Man, I am old. Longtime readers will agree: this blog owes much to First Son’s wit.
Man, I am old. Longtime readers will agree: this blog owes much to First Son’s wit.
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
Literature & History
Letters from an American
Beau of the Fifth Column
This American Life
The Writer’s Almanac
San Diego Reader
The Stranger
The Inlander
Adoremus
Charlotte was Both
The Onion
From Empty Hands
Ellen Finnigan
America
Commonweal
First Things
National Review
The New Republic
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
DarwinCatholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Ben Hatke
Daniel Mitsui
Dappled Things
The Fine Delight
Gene Luen Yang
Wiseblood Books
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Dude, my reaction to these photos, before I read your comment at the bottom, was, “Man, this guy is so young and he’s had so many kids… I feel ashamed.”
Happy Birthday to Primo. He once gave me a poem. I now return the favor.
Please give him this below from me. I stumbled across it in my journeys. Producing this type of work is the mystic’s labor out there in the desolation. This gift comes with an assignment. Ask him for me to not judge the work hastily, but to please ponder it for the next fifty years or so before coming to any conclusions.
Here is an excerpt
“O my beautiful universe: dream of Reality and Reality will tell you everything. Admit the Reality, of which you are a dream, and you will awaken, and will no longer ramble about beauty, but will be Beauty. There is only one Reality and only one Beauty, and it is the reason for your dream.
Do not tell me, children, about the beauty of the stars. If the Lord withdrew Himself from the stars, your mouths would be struck dumb. Stand in the thick darkness by my lake and try to sing to it. Truly you will be struck dumb and remain silent until the sun dawns, until the sun pours its beauty over the lake and gives your speechless throat its voice.
Your face pours beauty over all creation. The universe swims in Your beauty as a boat swims in the sea.
And when You bend over cold ashes, the ashes are transfigured and receive a face.
Bring my heart to its senses, my Lord, so that it may not be captivated by mortal beauty but by You, my Immortal Beauty.
O my only Beauty!
Allow me to see Your Face, just more and more–of Your Face.”
From Prayers By the Lake
Link to full meditation
http://www.sv-luka.org/praylake/pl31.htm
I will do, CM.
Don’t feel shame, Santiago. Your situation has its own compensations. And besides, it’s not like I set out upon some grand quest for marriage and family, and now bask in the glory of my offspring. I met The Wife, and things sort of took off from there.