As Lent begins, I've decided to repeat...

My last Advent's discipline and stay away from this silly blog (and from Twitter, too), among other things, although an exceptional item of news or other nonsense may merit a comment or two; am jettisoning the reading of large swathes of the usual 'content', too, not because it is in itself peculiarly inimical to spiritual health but simply as an exercise in self-discipline, the hope being that prayer and proper spiritual reading will be the replacement.  We shall see. Am not even trying to pretend to myself, however, that I will do without tobacco, this time around....

Was reminded of a bus commute home last week...

When I glanced through this post at Badger Catholic; the university students observed therein are upset that they may have to fund their own contraceptives and testing for sexually transmitted diseases. I think it must have been Thursday or Friday last that I overheard a group of five... well, my approximation is that they were probably thirteen or fourteen, perhaps; first year of high school, maybe. Three boys, two girls.  In any event, they were chattering about how often each of them has been 'gay', as in, 'I was gay for a couple of months back when...' and 'I am gay but we're going to Florida for the summer...' (the clear implication being that in Florida something may happen that will alter her 'lifestyle choice')--although it is true I heard only three voices (two male, one female), so forty percent of the group were keeping their judgments to themselves, I guess.  So far as I could tell by the minimal number of cultural tells I was able to glimpse they were 'middle class' kids; but, specially here in Eugene, who knows. How impoverished our society has become, how terribly parents are failing in their duties, how... et cetera, et cetera. Spes contra spem.

Vae illi per quem tradar ego....

Deo Patri sit gloria...

At Idle Speculations, a most excellent post on the Martyrs of Compiègne and the several dialogues des Carmelites; a long time ago, it-- the Poulenc -- was, maybe, where I first encountered the aesthetic power of Revelation. Don't think I had ever known that there is a film version (it isn't at Netflix, although two versions of Dialogues are).

In addition to the outside temperature being somewhere closer to zero...

Than to the 85 I prefer, silly Twitter seems to be hors combat this morning, and for hours....

Mr Thompson has done the 'Holy Smoke' blog for four years...

Or so, if I've been reading correctly on Twitter, and congratulations to him for what is, apart from the comments (and it didn't used to be this way, according to those who know), a most excellent insightul well-informed commentary on the Church in the UK; ad multos annos.  But my interest in that particular post is aroused because I've just gotten done with the first two series of Torchwood, which is spun off from Dr Who, of which I've seen precisely one episode. Perhaps two or three; but the point is I know only one Doctor and one of the Doctor's companions and have resisted knowing anything about the cultus of the franchise.  I find depictions of imaginary worlds that explicitly exclude the sovereignty of the divine Majesty and grace and the Church thought provoking, and wonder if their creators don't ever reflect on the fact that the same contests of virtue and honor that Religion perfects play out in their scenarios; they create putatively godless men and women but they are the same mankind redeemed by Our Lord. Am glad to know what UNIT is, ha.

"My soul is foolish. I’m cheap and jangly"...

"... I’m in poor taste, inadequate, irreverent, wanting and paltry in every way. My heart is made of little beige bricks and burlap. And for some reason, God keeps showing up anyway." Mrs Simcha Fisher has a certain moral and spiritual point, indeed, with respect to our attitude toward the sacred rites; she points out in a comment, "I was thinking more of what our attitude should be when we really have no choice in the liturgy or decor." One can set one's jaw and engage in brief but Pirellian exchanges with the pastor every Sunday, and write the appropriate letters when the occasion occurs (but it does only very infrequently because most of the "burlap" is arguably woven by the ecclesiastical authorities themselves), or else really have no practical choice for Masses of obligation but to simply accede to the existence of the "little beige bricks and burlap" and pray. What a mess they have made of catechesis these last forty years, alas... et cetera-- I have other things to do so won't conjugate myself to lamentation mode. @vaticanspy g a.

Missed the bus at half past because...

I was reading the clever and the wise on Twitter and delayed too long my departure from the house (am, alas, having to go off to do the weekly laundry; the landlord refuses to purchase new machinae).

Which mishap does, in any event, encourage reflection on Time and its use, particularly in the upcoming penitential season.  Was pretty successful at staying away from amusements, gossip and Internet frivolities during Advent and am discussing with myself what I ought to do in Lent.

Update on Sunday, February 20, 2011 at 10:54 by Marc

Father Stephen Wang notices some 'digital fasting'. Am inclining-- for Lent-- toward the abandoning of Netflix and Hulu and keeping the use of the machina to two hours a day, with the stipulation that 'unused minutes' can be transferred to the weekends.  I made my way through the Holy Father's Angelus address earlier in about... I didn't actually pay any attention; probably six or seven minutes (it wasn't reduced to publication-ready copy in that time, obviously, but was satisfied I understood the basic sense of each sentence and each expression).  Hmm. I wish not smoking tobacco were a candidate but alas I suspect it isn't.

Update on Sunday, February 20, 2011 at 11:27 by Marc

Pre-Lent - Septuagesima: Introit from Corpus Christi Watershed on Vimeo.

An interesting article on editing and editorial styles...

From yesterday's Guardian, by Alex Clark. The gruesome pages (and yet more pages) of thanks and acknowledgements that one reads in popular fiction (if that is the term I mean; thrillers and mysteries and 'novels of suspense' and the like, the sort of book I read for twenty minutes before sleeping) are certainly obnoxious and perhaps also a symptom of the "more collaborative" authorial and publishing worlds that Miss Kirsty Gunn decries.

"Sometimes referred to as baited hooks"...

At Wired, an amusing (and useful...) article about scratch off lottery tickets, ahem. @Londiniensis g a.

O tempora, o mores...

Watched this with some little amazement at Mark Shea's site. Mr Seymour, apparently, didn't realise that he had witnessed President Lincoln's assassination. I suspect that this is perhaps the only time on American broadcast television when the word, 'withal' was spoken (at least, outside a dramatic or historical program of some sort).

Drinking Hotlips blackberry soda is like...

Eating handfuls of the best and ripest blackberries in February, the pure essence of blackberry; rather costly (consequently I have so far avoided trying the pear and raspberry varieties available at Kiva) but worth every cent.

I have an irrational fear of falling...

It happens, rarely but often enough that even I, thoughtless wretch that I am, have noticed, over the years; there seem to be no specific antecedents or triggers but, as it were out of the blue, this particular half flight of stairs (and I secretly dread the report of possible ice storms) can cause a momentary flash of panic. In any event, this item-- a man fell a thousand feet and landed upright and more or less unharmed-- is what caught my eye as I looked at the newspapers this morning; good heavens.

The Most Holy Father is going to Serra San Bruno...

On the Sunday following St Bruno's feast day. The interview with Dr Fabio Tassone doesn't seem to be on Zenit's English page, alas. The Flickr gallery of photographs of chartreuses from which this one is taken is here; moderatoribus g a.

A night for Maurizio Pollini performing Chopin nocturnes...

"This story reveals the profound refusal to peacefully accept difference"...

While waiting for the washing machine to do its cleansing work, trying to finish the last of the Camels-- this is a real parenthesis: for many years, I smoked nothing but Camel straights, with the single interruption of my decade in the monastic desert (of course, there were the occasional odd breaks, for a day or two, due to lack of funds or an oppressive cold in the head); but out here in the Oregonian wilds the number of retailers still selling non-filtered cigarettes is small compared to that which proudly sells American Spirits, and since their manufacturer also sells a filterless version the price of which is rather less than that of Camels, when they can be found, I converted-- before going off to the library, I persuaded myself to look at the current issue of the Eugene Weekly. This essay about 'Tucson', by a professor of some species at the University of Oregon, reminded me that next time I ought not to yield.  

As may or may not be noticed...

I'm playing with the appearances; it'll work itself out of my system before too much longer. Thanks for your patience.... This is the moment's favorite, apart from the glitch that I see on one post in which the machina has neglected to give every word in the title an initial capital. 

Update on Saturday, January 22, 2011 at 20:59 by Marc

I have just realised that the size of videos is more or less halved with this layout; tsk. Later. Have decided that am not going back to adjust all the embedded videos; I suspect that everyone reading has the skills to access YouTube video.

"I always preferred 'Quum.'"

Winston Churchill, in his My Early Life, courtesy of the erudition and wit of Dr Gilleland at Laudator Temporis Acti.

... If the reader has ever learned any Latin prose, he will know that at quite an early stage one comes across the Ablative Absolute with its apparently somewhat despised alternative 'Quum with the pluperfect subjunctive.' I always preferred 'Quum.' True he was a little longer to write, thus lacking the much admired terseness and pith of the Latin language. On the other hand he avoided a number of pitfalls. I was often uncertain whether the ablative absolute should end in 'e' or 'i' or 'o' or 'is' or 'ibus,' to the correct selection of which great importance was attached. Dr. Welldon seemed to be physically pained by a mistake being made in any of these letters. I remember that later on Mr. Asquith used to have just the same sort of look on his face when I sometimes adorned a Cabinet discussion by bringing out one of my few but faithful Latin quotations. It was more than annoyance, it was a pang. Moreover Headmasters have powers at their disposal with which Prime Ministers have never yet been invested. So these evening quarters of an hour with Dr. Welldon added considerably to the anxieties of my life. I was much relieved when after nearly a whole term of patient endeavor he desisted from his well-meant but unavailing efforts....

"It was more than annoyance, it was a pang." Friday evenings after the work week dispose me to be amused by much that wouldn't otherwise catch my attention but in this case I think the writer deserves his laughter.

Fussed with the site layout et cetera...

And would welcome any comments about the new appearance and so forth.

Indo-Portuguese Creole has died...

Alas; it was a language spoken in Cochin. This news was reported in the first issue of Popular Linguistics, which looks to be a monthly treat.