The Arrogant Bill Whittle Breaks It Down for You
January 27, 2012 by at 2:02 pm
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
JOB
Conflicted in early life between his desire to be a weatherman for local community access cable stations and a man who wears pants in July, JOB took the middle road and now writes poems between every waking moment. [Read More …]
Southern Expat
All you need to know is that I'm a lady, understand?
Behave yourselves accordingly. [Read More …]
Superficial.
I have to agree with Bill. The Mystic predicts collapse too. All systems implode.
To quote the psalmist, “The future’s uncertain and the end is always near.”
It’s not easy facing up when your whole world is black.
Hi Angelico
I am facing up. Clarify what you mean.
Mystic,
I was just glibly quoting a Rolling Stones lyric (‘Paint It Black’) that Webb’s post brought to mind and that seemed semi-relevant to your comment. (Perhaps my glibness is itself a way to avoid facing up?)
Certainly I never doubted that you are facing up; quite the contrary!
Oops gotta go compline
Thanks Angelico. Not much of a stones fan. Doors.
Just wanted to understand. You don’t miss much. Wondering what you were trying to say. There is a lot of crap to face up to these days.
There are a lot of folks who don’t face up. I have to point things out. Makes you unpopular. I went to my neighbors the other day to return something I borrowed. Sure enough they were having a party. The whole neighborhood was there. I felt bad, but whatever. So as I was leaving, trying to assure my neighbor that her evite must have gone into my spam directory, when sitting in the corner was none other than Death himself. Just sitting there smiling drinking a bud light and munching on some cheese an crackers talking to the PTA president, and one of HOA board members. I look at Death and then I looked at my neighbor who you can tell just wants to crawl in a hole she is so uncomfortable. And I am like all like WTF? And she totally starts apologizing and pushing the spam mail box bull shit excuse and trying to get me to stay. I am just in my casual filthy rags and flip flops, but there is not way I am staying even if I was wearing my dress rags. I just look at her and say “Death?” “I mean you can’t take a little truth with your neat little lawn and mono-color cookie cutter housing???” But you can invite death to the party but not ole mystic!” I got all Jack Nicholson on her about truth, and I just turned and took off and didn’t say another word. So that’s why I had to clarify and what not. Because I am like Mr Face-up. I don’t hold back even at block parties I am facing up.
Flip-flops? You don’t go barefoot all the time? Your mortifications are a mite cushier than I’d pictured, Mystic. But then, even John the Baptist, that austere entomophage, was known to eat honey on occasion.
Angelico
At the Cubeland Monastery it is always Lent and never Easter. It’s part of the charism. The flippies were a reverse austerity I imposed on myself to keep the pride down.
‘Reverse austerity?’
Wow.
I’d compliment the brilliance of that idea, but praise might harm the humility you’ve so assiduously cultivated. I’ll just start looking, quietly, for ways to adopt your practice and adapt it to my own penitential privations, such as they are.
Joking around aside. That is truly a spiritual practice. Some folks suffer from spiritual pride. So they fast out of pride or achieve austerities under their own will because they are type A’s and can kick everyone’s butt in the spiritual life. The type A kick butt alms giver and self flagilator might think they are doing good but they are stroking their own ego. So the wise director will give them a penance like sleep in a comfortable bed, or go to the spa for a massage once a week, and treat yourself to a fine lunch at a great restaurant. It sort of freaks them out.
Is that new knowledge?
Whew! The heart really is perverse above all things, and unsearchable! Who can know it?
That is new knowledge, Mystic, and thank you very much for the lesson. It does match up with some things I’d gleaned here and there. For example, regarding mortifications (or sacrifices generally), I’d heard that ‘the sacrifice God wants from you isn’t always the one you want to give Him’. And as for spiritual pride, I’d heard about the Penitentes Brotherhood of remote north New Mexico, who carry out very grueling communal penances but wear masks and hoods the whole time, so that each penitent suffers publicly yet anonymously, without gaining any bragging rights.
Strange world, strange species. Thank God we have a religion to match.
Thank you again for the lesson, Mystic.
yw
If I come across some literature I will share it.
Someone mentioned to me that the next Korrektiv fest my be in NM. Santa Fe would be a nice gig, maybe it could even be at that monastery. Always wanted to go there.
He doesn’t really seem that arrogant, though.
It’s nigh baby. Is that how you spell nigh?
Aye.
Naye baby.
Igh.