Sunday, November 01, 2009

Do not go gentle into that bureaucratic night.

Congress may say, "Sun, stand thou still." And the people surely avenged themselves upon their enemies - twice, no less. Is not this written in the Statutes at Large of the United States? And yet the sun did not stand still.

Harding reversed Wilson's inane insanity, as he did with Wilson's Depression of 1920-21. Several wars later, and most of the US is back to the future.

But rejoice! The nation has made its annual repentance of fake time. Time to carry on redeeming the time, as always.

Song of Jesus

J. and I were discussing the Song of Solomon last night (she's reading it). I was struck by the beloved's belly of wheat and her navel of mixed wine (7:2).

I suppose it is easy to see that the wheat and mixed wine prefigure the Lord's Supper. First, the heap of wheat is the bread of the eucharist, while the goblet of wine is the cup of the new covenant. When the church eats this bread and drinks this wine, the food and drink enters the body and travels to the belly; so it is with all food. But all food and drink also combine with the body, and the body and blood of Christ transform the body of the church because, once they are eaten, the bread and wine become part of her body.

This order of separation and incorporation is again prefigured in that the woman is taken from the side of man and then is reunited with him when they become "one flesh." The church is also taken from the pierced side of Christ (out of which flows the mixed wine of blood and water). Christ returns to his bride in the Lord's Supper so that her body is his and his body is hers. By eating the body of Christ, the church becomes the body of Christ. But the body is more than just wheat and wine: the beloved's neck is strong, for instance, a pillar and bulwark supporting her head and prevailing against any attempt to sever that head from her body. The body of the church has an organization that is Christ's.

Some or all of these observations may be commonplaces, however. And I might be wrong.

Other parts of the song are so erotic - such as when the beloved invokes the wind to blow upon her garden and let her spices flow - that the Shulamite appears to be a hedonist. Now, hedonism is wrong - unless, of course, the hedonic delights are properly ordered. And what if the first delight is of God? For the bride is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.

Puritans

Even though the term was and still is pejorative - even perjurious, perhaps - who would not want to be a "puritan"? I'd rather be a puritan than a Calvinist or a Lutheran.

If: You're Living in a Fantasy (World)

The story is that Philip II of Macedon threatened the Spartans with a conditional sentence. The conditional was along the lines of, "If I win the war, you will be slaves." Or, "If I invade your land, I will raze your city." The Spartans responded with a single solitary laconic: "If".

I've talked to the dreamers and poets and idolators - the monarchists, the episcopists, the medievalists. The Republicans, too. All of these people could be called conservatives, but they didn't want to conserve anything so much as to restore something lost.

They talked, as we do, in enthymemes. They thereby suppressed an absurd hypothesis.

For example, a monarchist told me in no laconic terms that a monarchy is better than a republic. When he later said that the American president was a king, I disregarded the discrepancy. The discrepancy was only a symptom of his unstated hypothesis, which was: "If the US were governed by a king, then the US would be better." But not just any king; the hypothesis required a king of certain qualities to ensure its apodosis. The monarchist feigned abstractions while his argument demanded a very particular king to best a very particular republic. The problem was that his particular king did not exist.

He was arguing for nothing, then. Such a person is a liar and an anarchist. Anthony Burgess was more honest when he conceded that "since the ideal of a Catholic Jacobite imperial monarch isn't practicable," his principles were "really a kind of anarchism." And so on: the episcopist is a congregationalist in clerical costume (is it still Reformation Day?); the very name "medievalist" implies a modernity (any modernity will do); the Republican too is a cognitive dissident. These nihilists whisper absurdities yelling in my ear. If only - if.

What advantage, then, is there in using conditionals? Much in every way! And what is worse? Using a conditional to conceal a void, or writing about conditionals into a void?

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Model as Muse in Museum

I visited New York City and its Metropolitan Museum of Art (no qualifications on the art). The galleries were various and many. One exhibition, called "The Model As Muse: Embodying Fashion," displayed (or "explored") fashion from the 1940s to the 1990s. Each decade had its own room, and each room played a song from that decade. A portion of the Who's "My Generation" was playing in the sixties room. Thus below.

And our sorrow over extinct species may be weird because we know that, even though we may not want to destroy an entire kind of creature, still these animals disappear - perhaps irretrievably so - and we are responsible. Thus below also.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Talking About My Generation

"We hope you die before you get old."

Thursday, April 02, 2009

March, April

You may find weird sorrow in these photographs of extinct animals. Still, do have a look at these beautiful creatures. Sometimes sorrow is better than mirth.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

February

Not the cinema clips, but the song, even 2:29.

Update: The YouTube clip is gone. The song was by Regina Spektor, and at 2:29 she sings Pasternak's poem on February:

Февраль. Достать чернил и плакать!
Писать о феврале навзрыд,
Пока грохочащая слякоть
Весною черною горит.

Достать пролетку. За шесть гривен
Чрез благовест, чрез клик колес
Перенестись туда, где ливень
Еще шумней чернил и слез.

Где, как обугленные груши,
С деревьев тысячи грачей
Сорвутся в лужи и обрушат
Сухую грусть на дно очей.

Под ней проталины чернеют,
И ветер криками изрыт,
И чем случайней, тем вернее
Слагаются стихи навзрыд.

Perhaps our Fearsome Comrade can interpret it.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Everyone's Interest Is Stronger Than Mine

Thomas: the first stealth bomber was flown as a memorial for Vernon Orr.

Again a bomber flew overhead (over my head) at the Rose Parade. But Elliott Smith describes the rest:

Sunday, December 07, 2008

B-2 Spirit?

A stealth bomber is repeatedly flying over my head.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Divine Election

I wrote in the propositions and voted No for president.

Wait, that's not it...

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Good Idea

Archaeologist Israel Finkelstein of Tel Aviv University in Israel, [sic] added: "Taking the biblical description of King Solomon literally means ignoring two centuries of biblical research."

Say, This Farming Thing May Pay Off...

Make hay while you are in the eye of the storm. I now have three jobs, anyway.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

(I speak as a Keynesian.)

What then? Shall we incur debt that liquidity may abound?

Friday, October 10, 2008

Actual Conversation Actually Edited

I: I forgot to tell you that I spent three days with Donald Miller. In the mountains.

S: Which texts?

I: Well, all of them, I guess: the incarnational Donald Miller. In the flesh.

S: The incarnational Donald.

I: Yes.

S: Flee to the mountains.

I: He sat down with me, J., J.'s friend, and this other guy. It was my chance, my friend.

I said to him:

"Do you know that you spelled Elliott Smith's name wrong in your book Blue Like Jazz?"

He said that he didn't.

S: That's a glorious story.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

New Job

I now have two jobs, which means that this blog's layout will remain an ugly mess.

Why hasn't this blog meant much recently, anyway? The answer lies here, and here, here, here, and here. But I don't understand why I wasted so much on this.

And please do go and read Thomas here.

"I am king of the Americans and above economics."

Don't piss down my back and tell me it's liquidity.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Rock Me, Dr. Zaius

I'd love to hear it.

Scott Cairns

I think only John H. would care about this, and he doesn't read my blog. But:

In May, I saw the poet Scott Cairns. Cairns read from his various works.

Afterward, he talked of Mount Athos ("I'd encourage you to go there, but I know some of you can't."). Cairns said that he had been raised a Presbyterian but left to become Orthodox and that sometimes he wished he would have stayed put because he was "a pretty happy Presbyterian;" perhaps "a braver story would have been staying put;" perhaps he should have stayed to share with them the beauty that he discovered.

Afterward, I talked to him about Greek, Calvino, Calvin, and Kundera. When Cairns mentioned that he had not read Hart's The Beauty of the Infinite (though someone from Eighth Day Books had recommended it to him), I insisted that he take my copy of the book, which I happened to have with me in my angel bag.

Cairns commented on J.'s boots, and then the five of us drove to a pub in downtown Fullerton. I shared some beers with Mr. Cairns, J., D., C., and one other. I talked about the Arab Conquest and Cairns danced to Annie Lennox.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

On the Radio, Spektor-Style

"If you have life-threatening cancer, can a robot named da Vinci help you recover faster?" I don't know.

"We're Kaiser Permanente, and we want you to thrive" - so that we don't have to pay for the maintenance of you health, and thereby profit maximally.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Shine On in the Great Gig

Richard Wright has died.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

History, Depression, Doom, Repetition, Chiasms

"We have crossed the Rubicon," Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk said on Thursday, perhaps unaware that Caesar's crossing of the Rubicon was an act of war.

Ah, the vicissitudes of European politics!

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Chiasm of History

The Cold War is over.

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Fragment of a Hand-Written Note from January

The Fed will "inject" new money into the economy (oikos or soma), which will "flood" the market to help the "sinking," "evaporating" dollar.

"Mommy, he's laughing because he has faith!"