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
© Copyright 2020 Korrektiv Press. · All Rights Reserved · Admin
And
Please make certain you turned off your headlights.
And
Please make certain you didn’t leave the stove on.
And
Please make certain the plants are watered.
And
Please make certain someone has fed the terrapin.
And… and… and…
Please make certain the door is locked before driving to La Mesa.
You, slow, man.
I dunno. In the cold light of a Saturday morning after Friday night, this sounds alarmingly akin to, “Please make certain to quench all smoldering wicks, and please make certain to bar the gates and not admit any strangers to the kingdom of heaven.”
Its in a sacristy, no?
Precisely. TAGGED WITH: Get me to a confessional.
Actually, it’s the notice on the door to the sacristy for the crypt chapel in the cavernous basement of the diocesan building which used to be a seminary and now serves as a senior priest’s home and administrative building for the diocesan curia.
The crypt chapel is quite the thing (pictures to come?) – all stone and columns and chiaroscuro and low-vaulted ceilings and such: the main altar is flanked with about four or five altars running down each of the side walls of the chapel. These were once used as part of the priest’s praticum back when the Mass wasn’t a color-outside-the-lines-if-you-wish, choose-your-own-adventure hootenanny.
These days, the senior priests go down there to celebrate their dailies and occasionally a TLM has been known to be celebrated there to, you know, please the lares and daemons in the House of Piety.
JOB
I should say the seminarian’s practicum.
Priests need practice too, though, of course.
Yes please on pictures.
Please make certain the Heisenberg is tucked in under the lectionary.
Please make certain Fr. Schrodinger’s cat doesn’t get out.
Of course, this could be Father Morrison in an alternative universe:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLAr-WlxMZY
JOB
In Copenhagen!
At least it isn’t a sign about firearms.
Yes, I live in Minnesota. Walk into any church here a few years ago…”No firearms or weapons on the premises.”
To which I typically said, darn, need to store it in the car trunk.
/sarcasm
Oh! I thought the sign you were referring to was addressed to the priests.
You see, I know one priest in my diocese who would need that advice. He has, shall we say, unique and creative ways of taking care of bats in the sanctuary and coons in the belfry….
JOB
By eating them?
I am thinking you are knowing the priest of which I am speaking…
JOB
Not the bats, though.
JOB
If I know the priest, please just let me know if I taught him, so I can adjust my moral theology syllabus accordingly.
Minnesota: where you (priest or lay) can carry a concealed weapon into a church without a requisite sign, but you can’t kill a bat without being arrested.
#missingDixie