Archives for March 2014

The Day

Let the day’s trouble be sufficient unto the day.

Also: Give us this day our daily bread.

Further: This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Addendum: Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. Be reconciled while it is light.

Appendix 1: The parable of the laborers.

Appendix 2: Choose ye this day whom you will serve.

Appendix 3: Walk while it is light.

Appendix 4: Carry your cross every day.

Appendix 6: Day by day, O dear Lord, three things I pray.

Appendix 7: One day at a time.

Late to Post

Friend of Korrektiv (FOK) Sam Rocha has a Kickstarter going and he’s done quite well with it. Still a day or so to kick in if you’re so inclined!

Late to Love

Limerick for St. Pat’s

Now Scotch, it tastes too much of peat
And Bourbon, it’s just a hair sweet
But your Saint Paddy’s Day
Won’t gang aft agley
If your whiskey is Irish, served neat

A Pig’s Sphincter is Fair Game


Coming to Gerasene ’14 …

The Jewish Cardinal

The-Jewish-Cardinal-0001.showcase_3Oh, look – a film in which religion is taken seriously. In particular, the way that religion influences a person’s identity, and the way experience influences religion. It’s full of the kind of ecumenical politicking that gives JOB gallstones, but other than that, it’s outstanding Catholic Family Viewing. Very fine performances, especially Aurelien Recoing as John Paul II.

The End of an Era

Jonathan Potter hosted his last Naked Lunch Break at the Riverpoint Campus of Eastern Washington University.

The Mill and the Cross

Gruesome Fleshpicking

I don’t know if anybody out there has Netflix streaming, but they’ve got The Mill and the Cross right now. There’s some brief (non-erotic but fetching) full frontal nudity, some gruesome fleshpicking, and it’s full of the kind of ecumenical lovingkindness that makes JOB break out in hives, but besides that, it’s fantastic Catholic Family Viewing. For the Lentminded, there’s even a depiction of the Passion. There are moments – one in particular – that are almost (almost) enough to make a soul believe that art matters.

Frog legs are fair game.


persophone 2
For Cecilia

Imagine time the place where shadows grow
Divine, and spread like fans that winnow noon
From dawn and dusk from rotting bones in snow
That marks the melting margins of the sun.

Then conjure thoughts of breadth: from apse
And nave to chthonic crypt, from heaven’s womb
To Hades’ tomb. What fires your cold synapse?
What Aprils march to February’s doom?

Where ice has borrowed, spring is lent away:
A princess comes to live in exile’s realms,
Her pert magnificence at close of day –
Though holding fast – reveals and overwhelms.

The nothing left is less than chaff – a creed
Of stones. What’s gone is everything that lasts:
The bittersweet and many-seeded need
To see beyond the light that darkness casts.


From Kevin Williamson:

“But Chris Hayes and others of that kidney are so committed to the narrative of helplessness—particularly black helplessness—that they either will not or cannot account for the facts of the case.”

Yep, kidney. From Websters:

3: sort or kind especially with regard to temperament: “a nice helpful guy, of a different kidney entirely from the …” Secret Police, Paula Lecler.


When Jonathan Webb and I approached the Catholic Church as thirty-something post-Protestant outcasts nearly two decades ago, it was a fine twist of grace–or at least a bit of good luck–that Fr. Michael Sweeney, O.P., was the priest that met us at the door. He himself was standing outside the door, taking a smoke break. Now Fr. Sweeney is President of the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology (DSPT) at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley. Check out his Lenten reflections.

Wise Blood Books Throws a Rock in the Pond

The Catholic Writer Today

Dana Gioia’s The Catholic Writer Today sets a mighty finger on the scales of literature: on the one side what matters and lasts, and on the other what’s shallow and doesn’t. This electrifying essay is a guide to the perplexed. Its arguments about Catholic literature could be applied to American writing in general. Without the complications of tradition and history—the history of meaning—what’s left?

– Cynthia Ozick

True Detective

Season Two

The New Yorker on religion: two items

First, atheist Lawrence Krauss’s remarkably dumb essay entitled “Why Hollywood thinks Atheism is Bad for Business,” a piece that doesn’t even really care about its headline. What it cares about is making the case for a cultural bias against atheism. Hollywood was just fine releasing the smarmy-funny Religulous, and it paid off: $13 million on a $2.5 million budget. But Krauss is bitter because Hollywood won’t release his documentary on the folly of belief, so clearly they’ve got a bias. Special minus points for this bit of drivel from Ricky Gervais: the actor says that he is regularly told, “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, so why don’t you just keep quiet about your atheism!” By whom? Certainly not the op-ed folks at the Wall Street Journal. And Gervais’ frequent proclamations of unbelief don’t seem to have hurt his career any. Hell, Hollywood even let him make a movie, The Invention of Lying, in which he got to lay his anti-religion cards on the table. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Gervais himself isn’t worried.

Second, a piece about a book about cloistered Carmelite nuns. Much less whiny. Just go and read.

The Lydia Stone

judas kiss

Condemned to shine, it’s rubbed or cut and set
Within a thorny gallery. Clean to bone,
The chasing hammer cleaves – and eyes forget
Their first impressions, leaving God alone.

With perpendicular inlay of place
And time, such stone is cold as early spring;
Its dogwood winter strikes a lifted face
For silver coins; it sounds the golden ring.

Its standard currency becomes the name
That royalty bestows with spreading palms.
It bites against the grain; it drills for flame
As shadows beg to seize at midday’s alms.

The ancients rightly called it βάσανος
For proving mettle with a tortured kiss.

Couplet for Ash Wednesday

Korrektivians enjoy (being bad) Lent,
to Easter as to Christmas is Advent.

A Pope Francis fan fiction wet dream.