You’ve probably noticed several changes to the sidebar recently. Just one more thing to note, Kakistocrat is back. Since the link is now there I decided I’m too lazy to bother posting it here.
And yes, I am aware that probably none of our computers utilize cathode ray technology. It just sounds so good. Plus I’ve been thinking a lot about Videodrome lately. I have nothing to say about it. It’s just hanging in the closet of my mind like a musty shirt or something.
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Edit: In addition to this I have now added a haven for all those with weary soles, ready to dig up a little lore, or embark on a journey into the unknown. This is your starting point: Amon Sul.
[4]
Hahahahaha!
Worth the link.
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Peter Leithart, professor of Theology and Literature at St. Andrew’s college, and the owner of the site linked to above, completely amazes me. He’s no Ezra Pound, but he is an excellent scholar who competently explores and comments on a wide range of issues. He has been publishing prolifically for the past few years (books and regular articles), there’s always something new and interesting on his site, and he is the proud father of 10.
Yes, 10.
Some people simply defy space-time logic.
[3]
I have seriously considered axing Coal this past while. I no longer have the will to bother updating with the frequency that I used to. What I desire, though also am incapable of facilitating at the moment (I believe the situation will improve in a couple months’ time), is profound, stimulating, exploratory conversation. The kind of “fiendish allday-allnight-talk” enjoyed by burgeoning intellectual groups in every time and age. The kind of talk enjoyed by the itinerate students of life, language, the arts, relationships, God, and everything. I crave the collisions, tensions, and exuberant intercourse of ideas spurred by minds different yet alike.
We need students who are teachers and teachers who are students. Or, eager students who are humble but exacting and enthusiastic teachers.
I have also considered starting something entirely new, webwise. It could be that Coal is fulfilled and now exhausted. I was thinking of starting something of a more poetic / linguistic vein to better reflect my current disposition. This site was begun primarily, though not solely, as a place for discussion and debate, a purpose that I began to deviate significantly from about half a year ago. But now friends are far away and because we do not all study and meet at the same places points of overlap are fewer and further between. Or maybe I’m just too focused on other things to put the required energy into fruitful online conversational pursuits. There is probably a lot of truth in that as well.
Do not mistake my meaning. This isn’t intended to be read as a soliloquey of death. They are simply self-destructive contemplations, which may well be overcome with the changing of the seasons and accompanying renewal of mind and spirit. We shall see.
[9]
...is finally up.
More from me later this week.
[5]
Now that I’m back and settling in, I’m looking for parties interested in resuming something resembling the literature group (previously known as S-Club 7) that was formed last year. This kind of social mental stimulation is a must for me right now, as I’ve spent much of the last five months muttering to myself in a corner of a musty apartment. That’s not exactly accurate, but I certainly haven’t had large doses of intellectual discussion, and am feeling the effects of withdrawal. Viz. It feels like my braincells are evacuating a dying planet.
I’ll talk to some of you directly. Others who are interested and can be in Winnipeg once a week feel free to contact me. In all likelihood I’ll be turning many of you away – we only need about a half dozen members and, really, who wouldn’t want to be in this club? – so apply quickly. I’ll also be taking suggestions as to the future direction of the group. So far I’ve talked to only one former member, and he thought we should stay on the Shakespeare track, possibly resuming with “The Tempest”.
Other projects you may be interested in: self-taught latin. This is an informal affair between one of my housemates and I. Another person to meet with on a weekly basis may help our motivation. We’re just beginning.
Poker/Gambling night. Self-explanatory. We need more poker. Also, I will teach you a kickass Chinese card game. The other two are open to both sexes. For this one I’m thinking more of a male crowd, but if interest expressed by females is overwhelming, I’m always willing to throw the gates open.
And if you happen to be fluent in standard Mandarin Chinese, give me a call.
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As anyone with academic experience knows, the world is filled with great men (and occasionally women) whose early life biographies are tales of hardship, discipline, and ultimately, distinction. One studies and ponders these biographies, and it’s hard not to think that if you don’t know fifteen languages, play five instruments, and haven’t published anything by by the time you’re about 16, you might as well throw in the towel and become a plumber, or maybe a writer of other people’s bios.
And then this.
I’m reading Humphrey Carpenter’s biography of J.R.R. Tolkien, who pretty much fits the above description of a dedicated young genius. Impressive, yes, but it’s a story I’ve heard before. What stopped my pulse was a teacher of his named Joseph Wright, who is a story of another kind altogether.
Joe Wright was a Yorkshireman, a truly self-made man who had worked his way up from the humblest origins to become a Professor of Comparative Philology. He had been employed in a woollenmill from the age of six, and at first this gave him no chance to learn to read and write. But by the time he was fifteen he was jealous of his workmates who could understand the newspapers, so he taught himself his letters. This did not take very long and only increased his desire to learn, so he went to night-school and studied French and German. He also taught himself Latin and mathematics, sitting over his books until two in the morning and rising again at five to set out for work. By the time he was eighteen he felt that it was his duty to pass on his knowledge to others, so he began a nightschool in the bedroom of his widowed mother’s cottage, charging his workmates twopence a week for tuition…
...And so on, until he arrives some years later at Oxford and becomes a distinguished professor of Philology.
If that doesn’t make a man feel like he’s wasting his life away, I don’t know what would.
[1]
After a three year hiatus, Flough’s finally back! Static link on the sidebar.
Greatest Christmas carol ever: O Come O Come Emmanuel.
Second greatest: Carol of the Bells. It’s too bad this song is irrevocably associated with Home Alone.
Greatest non-traditional Christmas song: It’s a toss up between Sister Winter and Did I make you cry on Christmas (Well, you deserved it!), both by Sufjan Stevens.
Greatest Christmas movie ever (and one of the greatest movies of all time): It’s a Wonderful Life.
Second greatest: Scrooge (or A Christmas Carol), starring Alistair Sims.
Worst popular movie: Miracle on 34th Street, any version.
Greatest Christmas novel: I have to go with A Christmas Carol, though that is doubtless partly due to the fact that I’ve never read many of the classic Christmas stories. Maybe I’ll get to The Gift of the Magi later this week.
Best present I received this year: Catholic Matters: Confusion, Controversy, and the Splendor of Truth, by Richard John Neuhaus, from my parents.
Something more people ought to know about Christmas: “Xmas” is not, as some people think, the de-’Christ’-ianized version of “Christmas”. It is in fact leftover from early Church tradition, and the Greek spelling of Christ, “Xristos” (textpattern doesn’t support the greek font, but you can find it elsewhere online).
And you?
[9]
Time to write. Time to write. No time to write. Hosea part 3 is in the works, but not ready for posting yet. You’ll just have to wait, my literary piranhas.
New to the blogosphere, is the currently under construction “Your Face Is A Website,” by njero. Whether or not that will be the finished site’s name I don’t know, but when it’s up be sure I’ll post the link.
Joseph Bottum offers reflections on Dicken’s A Christmas Carol, here, or here. The reason I never summarize these things, by the way, is because if I bother to post the link it’s worth reading. Though to be fair, I think almost everything First Things prints is worth reading.
There were supposed to be some more knicks, and possibly even a few extra knacks, in this post. But it’s just going to have to do as is. There’s plenty of reading over at First Things to keep you busy this time of year. Perhaps I’ll have some Christmas reflections up soon. Or something.
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Whenever I read or hear about anyone doing, um, pretty much anything, I get jealous and want to do the same. I’ve written about my inability to be content with life as is before, and nothing has changed. I just read that my old friend Caitlin is in University studying, among other things, the Greeks. I really want to study the classics. And learn Latin. And continue learning Greek, but this time Attic, not Koine.
How is it that I’m 21 and haven’t read The Iliad, or the Aeneid, or the complete Nicomachean Ethics, or the complete Canterbury Tales (it’s not just Greek and Latin literature I’m missing out on), or Paradise Lost (completely inexcusable), or Finnegan’s Wake (slightly more excusable) or Pliny’s Natural History, or anything by Cicero? I could go on and on with the deficiencies of my education, and have no one to blame but myself. But there’s just so much to learn, in and out of books. How does one narrow one’s interests down to essentials? I don’t seem capable of narrowing interests, or focusing in. I’m cursed to float on the surface of everything.
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