Skip to main content

What To Wear To See The Pope

My taste in literature is like my taste in music - varied and eclectic. So after reading Dharma Bums, I read What to Wear to See the Pope by Christine Lehrer. The two books could not be more different, and my reasons for enjoying them couldn't be either. I did, however, think in regard to both of them, I would rather read a well-written book whose content/philosophy I disagree with, than a poorly written piece whose morals or worldview I would endorse

This book taught me US history (I'm ready for you, Jeopardy!!):
James Polk, as you may recall, became president in 1845, and it was during his tenure that we won the Mexican-American War and thus acquired California, Texas, Colorado, Utah, Arizona New Mexico, Wyoming, and Nevada, without which, if you think about it, we would have no movie industry, no avocados, no surfing, no powder skiing, no cactus gardens, no Walt Disney, and no dude ranches. There would be no illegal immigrants in LA, and Mexico would have Olympic skiers. It seems fairly clear why the shipping company would name a liner for Polk, rather than Millard Fillmore or Grover Cleveland, for instance.

And reminded me of the beautiful reality of family:
When the telephone rang Olivier picked it up and I immediately knew we were about to plummet down the long chute of regression into stupid jokes we found funny as children. This was a hazard of spending time with siblings, and one of the best reasons for ensuring that familial visits be spent in private; it was also an excellent way to infuriate, alienate, and even disgust one's in-laws. Which was not always a bad idea.

"Right you are, Sweetness, because that is what we do, this family. We tell the same jokes, and pick the same fights. It's the only way we can tell we love each other."

And made me laugh at the dramatics of domestic life:
"Because it's the best knife. I need it," Gus said.
"I hate that knife," I said. I used to think it was a good knife, but I have changed my mind. That knife is a deadly weapon. It's taken on some evil personality all its own, like some teenage horror movie. I now regard that knife as the Quisling, the Malinche, the Judas Iscariot, the Benedict Arnold, the Kim Philby of knives."
"But it's the only decently sharp knife we have."
I started sniffling. "Are you listening? I can't live in the same house with that knife anymore. That knife has turned against me - me, who has kept it and used it and washed it probably thousands of times. I regard that as betrayal, or worse."
"What is worse than that?"


Popular posts from this blog

What About Travis!?

I just watched Hope Floats, the second movie in my I-really-need-to-vegetate night. Now that we have more than three channels, there are so many quality programs on TV! Like movies in the middle of the week. I enjoyed many of the lines in this movie, including:

"I went home and told my mama you had a seizure in my mouth."
(referring to her first french-kissing experience)

"Dancing's just a conversation between two people. Talk to me."
(the conversation in our living room then went,
Girl 1: Only Harry Connick Jr. could say that line without it being incredibly cheezy.
Boy: Without it being cheezy? That's all I heard. Cheez, cheez, cheez.
Girl 2: Yeah, but it was sexy, sexy cheez...sigh.)
"Better do what she says, Travis. Grandma stuffs little dogs."

Bernice: At home we had a pet skunk. Mama used to call it Justin Matisse. Do you think that's just a coincidence? All day long she would scream, "You stink Justin Matisse!" Then one day she just…

I Like to Keep My Issues Drawn

It's Sunday night and I am multi-tasking. Paid some bills, catching up on free musical downloads from the past month, thinking about the mix-tape I need to make and planning my last assignment for writing class.

Shortly, I will abandon the laptop to write my first draft by hand. But until then, I am thinking about music.

This song played for me earlier this afternoon, as I attempted to nap. I woke up somewhere between 5 and 5:30 this morning, then lay in bed until 8 o'clock flipping sides and thinking about every part of my life that exists. It wasn't stressful, but it wasn't quite restful either...This past month, I have spent a lot of time rebuffing lies and refusing to believe that the inside of my heart and mind can never change. I feel like Florence + The Machine's song "Shake it Out" captures many of these feelings & thoughts.

(addendum: is the line "I like to keep my issues strong or drawn?" Lyrics sites have it as "strong," …

Simone Weil: On "Forms of the Implicit Love of God"

Simone Weil time again! One of the essays in Waiting for God is entitled "Forms of the Implicit Love of God." Her main argument is that before a soul has "direct contact" with God, there are three types of love that are implicitly the love of God, though they seem to have a different explicit object. That is, in loving X, you are really loving Y. (in this case, Y = God). As for the X of the equation, she lists:

Love of neighbor Love of the beauty of the world Love of religious practices and a special sidebar to Friendship
“Each has the virtue of a sacrament,” she writes. Each of these loves is something to be respected, honoured, and understood both symbolically and concretely. On each page of this essay, I found myself underlining profound, challenging, and thought-provoking words. There's so much to consider that I've gone back several times, mulling it over and wondering how my life would look if I truly believed even half of these things...

Here are a few …