Anyone who blogs around much (yes, that's a verbal phrase) ends up running into a lot of so-called poetry. Most of it is awful. Much of it, in fact, for reasons too numerous to be named here, makes you feel slightly queasy...or evokes a vague sense of pity.

That's why a blogger who can make a legitimate claim to the title of "poet" deserves recognition.

Check out these pieces from Anonymouse. I think of this collection as "Cathedral poems," an idea I took mostly from "Shhh...." and "Our Lady of Perpetual Springtime."

Do yourself a favor and read them slowly.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Augustine the Kid




Saint Augustine's Childhood - Garry Wills A+ (formative)

How does one “review” Augustine? In short, one doesn’t—seventeen-hundred years of history already have. It’s not a question of whether his writings are relevant today, but how many hours you’ll dedicate to reading them. Like Henry James or Shakespeare, Augustine’s brilliance is in effect timeless. This review, as a result, focuses not so much on Augustine’s thought (which justifies books) but on one translation.

I’d wanted to read The Confessions for years, and prior to jumping in, I felt compelled to evaluate the translations available. One thing emerged quickly: In terms of clout and immediacy, Will’s work was getting the buzz. I bit.

Now having read Wills’ first installment of “The Testimony,” as he translates Augustine’s title, I’m ready to add my vote to the New York Review’s take: “his translations…sizzle.” Childhood, as communicated and contextualized by Wills, flows smoothly, and the main streams of Augustine’s thought are exposed clearly. Wills’ introduction, annotations and commentary are perceptive, and thoroughly documented with complementary texts from the saint’s other writings; at the get-go, Wills' identification of The Confessions as a long, devotional prayer is enlightening—and other comments are similarly insightful.

To sum up, Wills has put in the time—extensive language work and Augustinian research (including a Penguin Famous Lives biography)—to make his translation the hands-down winner. Wills is a sterling frame for one of history’s keenest minds.

Filed in:

• Books
• Book_Reviews
• Garry_Wills
• Augustine
• Christianity
• Theology
• Literature
• Classics

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

I just ran into this post from Little Cabbages via the (increasingly popular) VRP website. She smoothly quotes C.S. Lewis, and playfully mentions anthropomorphism--and for these accomplishments alone she deserves some recognition.

And since I never post stand-alone links without a disclaimer, here it is:

I virtually never publish stand alone links, but LC's thoughts re: "Is yellow square or round?" really deserve a read.

Go try some cabbage.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

In the Greco-Roman world, victory was demonstrated by placing one’s foot on the neck (or spine, if the enemy had no neck) of the vanquished foe.

Sunday afternoon, after a period of combat lasting almost two months, a bitter struggle came to an end.

I decisively drove a final paragraph through the jugular of my Ancient Philippi research paper, slashed my “Ten Archaeology Site Reviews” project to the heart with a concluding critique, brutally speed-read the remaining 50 pages of my 600+ page allotment…and dismissively send the assignments to their maker.

It is over. The end-game was bloody, but now at last I can sheathe my battle-worn sword and return to the homestead, where provincial challenges of my own devising await.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

The words "I believe" are in themselves a paradox.

It’s been observed (recently by Paula) that belief in a purely material world requires faith just as surely as belief in a supernatural one. In fact, most every philosopher, theologian, or evolutionists—systematic thinkers of all persuasions—articulate this conclusion at one time or another.

The poem below is an act of recognition (perhaps an overly simple one)—an attempt to acknowledge the above fact: To trust in matter or to worship God each require belief. Worship sex or trust a savior—both take "unverifiable" trust, not in spite of the facts, but in light of our imperfect ability to apprehend them.

For my part, I deliberately assert the authority of the unseen spiritual over and against the weight of the tactile visible. By the same token, atheists and materialists must vie with the credence of the intangible. I have, of course, material reasons for my choice. But the corpus of evidence leads only to the brink of belief—and there it (or, if you will, our intellectual grip) falls away.

Therefore, my poem not an explanation of conviction, much less a statement of “blind” belief. Rather, it's an expression of divinely triggered faith-intention. A casting of the vote on the side of the supernatural. (We all cast our votes one day.)

::

Spirit Over Sand

I saw a rock wall
A wall of granite grey
Without a growing thing—
And I believed you could do it.

I saw a sheer sky
A page of canvas brown
Without a beating wing—
And I believed you could do it.

I saw a sand waste
A world of desert red
Without a flowing spring—
And I believed you could do it.

I lived a fool’s life
A search for future’s blue
Without a mortal king—
And I believed you could do it.
I believed you could do it.

Filed in: Controversy Lifeview Philosophy Poetry

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Yesterday there was a minor fiasco over at the Vocabulary Reclamation Project, and because of my excessive humility, I'm letting you all in on it.

Actually, I'm buying time for a real post...and the situation is pretty humorous.

Filed in: Stories Updates

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Can "truth" be eclectic?

Common sense and common experience reveal that to go looking for a truth that “suits us” will inevitably meet with success—and the package deal will likely include a gift shop and a tour guide to the magical kingdom.

When people shop for faith like it’s clothing, the search is over before it begins. We find “answers,” of course, but our “finds” have the same precariously-perfect style we’d expect of the summer’s fashion trends. And the same staying power.

Ultimately, there is nothing for it but to go searching simply for the Truth—color and style preferences be damned—and accommodate ourselves to its reality. Then our joys and our rewards, when they arrive, will be genuine—the kind that last forever.

Still later, we will find, to our astonishment, that the Truth is in fact what fits us, meets our deepest needs entirely, like lock and key—but we had to approach it as the truth in order to find it, and not merely look for the sweetest deal going.

Because the truth was larger, far larger than us, we had to discover the truth—and then grow into it. In the final reckoning, to craft designer truth, to build heaven to suit, is to reinvent the wheel.

And in the case of the truth, it can’t be done.

Filed in: Freedom Lifeview Philosophy

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

My bball game has been on the backburner so long it's slightly charred. But today I had an opportunity to turn on the heat and mix it up.

After work, for reasons known best to himself—but which involved a girl—my brother felt compelled to challenge me to a one-on-one hoops game.

I felt bad about doing it, since his self-confidence has been growing by leaps and bounds lately, but I really had no choice. It hurt me, it really did, but I hung the decisive L on him—which is not to say the game was a cupcake. But I needed to make a statement.

There may be an extra bounce in your step, bro, but I am still the man in this sport.

That being the case, I’m sorry I had to prove it at your expense.

Well, sort of sorry. But better luck next time… ;)

* The full title of this post, suppressed for semantic reasons, is "Love & Hoops & Smack."

Filed in: Hoops Stories

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Last night it rained soothingly and the temperature fell thirty degrees, from the muggy, torpid 90s to cool, fresh 60s. This morning I walked out the back door and entered Autumn in July. Some of the trees were losing leaves and I swear the air smelled like wood smoke.

Few things so refreshing materialize so suddenly. Tolkien’s concept of “eucatastrophe” came to mind: a sudden, inexplicable change for the good. I think in a sense we’re all waiting for the world to change; to wake up and discover it is better—really better, like the way you thought life would improve after your tenth birthday.

We wait for a feeling of genuine world alteration, as if a drought that has lasted as long as anyone can remember has suddenly broken. Unexpected “small” things—like today’s reviving air, or the first snowfall—hint at the unarticulated wish.

We long silently to be awakened by an unthinkably lucky sunrise—heaven surfacing in full view. The old immanence shattered.

Or maybe I’m just strangely moved by weather, but I don’t think so.

Filed in: Bittersweetness Clues Speculation

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

A decisive point has arrived. A great bridge has been crossed. The Vocabulary Reclamation Project has just attracted its first paying member.*

Understandably, this was an emotional occasion for all involved. Overlyconscious wrote, “The link and banner are up and my eyes are, like, welling.” And I concurred.

The man deserves a quick life story, no doubt—and his site will soon grace the VRP’s new blogroll. As it is, I’m at least giving him a link.

* But I thought it was free! It is—and enhanced panache and class seldom come this cheap. “Paying” is merely metaphorical; or, if you will, it refers to overlyconscious’ placement of a VRP button and link on his site.

Filed in: Updates

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.