
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.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Good Country People
Labora / Editions
Sutter's Casebook
Betty Duffy
Bitkin
By Way of Beauty
Charlotte was Both
I Have to Sit Down
The Onion
From Empty Hands
The Fine Delight
First Things
Dappled Things
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
Transcendental Musings
The Ironic Catholic
DarwinCatholic
Inside Catholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Catholic Radio International
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
The Lion & The Cardinal (Daniel Mitsui)
Babes in Babylon
Fort o' Tude
Ellen Finnigan
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Godspy
Godsbody
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Nicely executed, Mr Potter.
I.C., yes, Potter does a great job. But, keep in mind that he is a long time user of deer antler spray. Some might think that gives him an unfair advantage.
One non-scholer’s opinion is that Frost is the greatest. An onion the be peeled and enjoyed at every layer.
Thanks Jonathan.
An onion that makes one weep — with joy!
Yes, Frost is one of the greats.
As some wag posted on Facebook:
Robert Frost is dead
And angels fear to tread
Into the frenzied fray about
Whether he was or was not devout
But Kollektivists rush in
Cuz being foolish ain’t a sin.
I have seen evening fall on morning frost.
I’ve watched black woods fill up with moonlit snow.
I have looked down two roads from where they crossed;
I know that one of them, I’ll never know.
I have worked side by side with wordless men,
And thought ‘Good-bye’ when it was time to go.
I have thought homeward thoughts, once and again,
But winter was the wind against my back
When summer drove me west and drew me in
Until I reached the utmost end of track
On beaches gray as asphalt and exhaust;
And further west, the churning, chilly black
Said summer was not found and was not lost.
I have seen evening fall on morning frost.
Well,now.