tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6859634848761849692024-03-05T14:17:19.888-08:00Be Here NowArt, Myth, ConsciousnessUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger412125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-62773913765554868612023-06-03T15:16:00.006-07:002023-06-03T15:18:38.441-07:00Flaming June<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKvuFNyeyygDhIQt7rTrQe73fHAB4bLo_WQye6djxGDLjVYtHYmpzi0PTTWVDoZylCs1XKj5ekXI7-jguEo2ZKaweHUAJP3RnQUGA5BCVmncE0vOKUI0bgr-buYXyPH8CTYEgS1DFHgkQCW0Tgx2isgu2RSo_fHYvA-sZh8CG7Q7QmBR5Rz9TlOT9/s2552/Flaming%20June,%20Frederic%20Leighton,%201895.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2552" data-original-width="2550" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKvuFNyeyygDhIQt7rTrQe73fHAB4bLo_WQye6djxGDLjVYtHYmpzi0PTTWVDoZylCs1XKj5ekXI7-jguEo2ZKaweHUAJP3RnQUGA5BCVmncE0vOKUI0bgr-buYXyPH8CTYEgS1DFHgkQCW0Tgx2isgu2RSo_fHYvA-sZh8CG7Q7QmBR5Rz9TlOT9/w400-h400/Flaming%20June,%20Frederic%20Leighton,%201895.jpg" title="FLAMING JUNE" width="400" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">FLAMING JUNE</div><div style="text-align: center;">Frederic Leighton (1895)</div><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-75833358462475220692021-08-10T08:53:00.000-07:002021-08-10T08:53:18.010-07:00Flannery<p><a name="_Hlk79477192"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"></span></span></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JQD_PhBtfQc/YRKgJ_z8j_I/AAAAAAAAG1A/iZGkW8OX_mYu_ON3ItdOWRSUvDkD8UJBACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" height="168" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JQD_PhBtfQc/YRKgJ_z8j_I/AAAAAAAAG1A/iZGkW8OX_mYu_ON3ItdOWRSUvDkD8UJBACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><a name="_Hlk79477192"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">“The serious writer has always taken
the flaw in human nature for his starting point, usually the flaw in an
otherwise admirable character. Drama usually bases itself on the bedrock of
original sin, whether the writer thinks in theological terms or not. Then, too,
any character in a serious novel is supposed to carry a burden of meaning
larger than himself. The novelist doesn’t write about people in a vacuum; he
writes about people in a world where something is obviously lacking, where
there is the general mystery of incompleteness and the particular tragedy of
our own times to be demonstrated, and the novelist tries to give you, within the
form of the book, the total experience of human nature at any time. For this
reason, the greatest dramas naturally involve the salvation or loss of the
soul. Where there is no belief in the soul, there is very little drama.”</span></span></a><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-1433902479611870302021-08-08T14:49:00.002-07:002021-08-08T14:49:18.148-07:00<blockquote><p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dDzcd9yVwmY/YRBPwWbBWNI/AAAAAAAAG0w/Mfj1SojMASs38w0phAbIgB4yIzCJ5jtSgCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1506" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dDzcd9yVwmY/YRBPwWbBWNI/AAAAAAAAG0w/Mfj1SojMASs38w0phAbIgB4yIzCJ5jtSgCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="176" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">Edoardo Gelli, Portrait of Mark Twain (1904)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">"Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone, you may still exist, </span><span style="font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;">but you have ceased to live." ~Mark Twain</span></span></p></blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-88458364332270792382021-06-21T20:16:00.002-07:002021-06-21T20:16:20.588-07:00If Not Now<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzw4kEO5hxq2XQSabmzqUcyT3aNc4YQObiyImm58B93mXBB5IQf8xnIyZ-1MemwxFC0wVz_OvXPBR0rs9Q5fRWh24ObHxuzybv_9c6Tro1soZPV8ROqE7dy-92argY8SQa1alPTA6eRWA/s600/if+not+now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzw4kEO5hxq2XQSabmzqUcyT3aNc4YQObiyImm58B93mXBB5IQf8xnIyZ-1MemwxFC0wVz_OvXPBR0rs9Q5fRWh24ObHxuzybv_9c6Tro1soZPV8ROqE7dy-92argY8SQa1alPTA6eRWA/s320/if+not+now.jpg" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-11505097077829805602021-05-21T15:03:00.003-07:002021-05-21T15:18:02.292-07:00Happy Birthday Albrecht Durer<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mQ0YwmFCY4o/YKgtWurdZFI/AAAAAAAAGxU/PEwhXKXpIb0kXkUxZ469_YfeHndqxmNOACLcBGAsYHQ/s829/F795C338-B5CD-4479-B4D6-04211D7A1240.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="829" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mQ0YwmFCY4o/YKgtWurdZFI/AAAAAAAAGxU/PEwhXKXpIb0kXkUxZ469_YfeHndqxmNOACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/F795C338-B5CD-4479-B4D6-04211D7A1240.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: black;">Self-portrait, age 28, painted in 1500</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: black;">Take a tour of this ground-breaking painting here:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/09/25/arts/durer-self-portrait.html">https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/09/25/arts/durer-self-portrait.html</a></div><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-53773925227675937242021-04-28T14:44:00.004-07:002021-04-28T15:20:16.411-07:00<p><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: black; font-size: 13px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNdpXjnqbKQ/YInfbkx1GNI/AAAAAAAAGxI/2mfLZ52LSQgYyBFOOtIGjew9BaYOdHEcACLcBGAsYHQ/s550/seebeyond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="451" data-original-width="550" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNdpXjnqbKQ/YInfbkx1GNI/AAAAAAAAGxI/2mfLZ52LSQgYyBFOOtIGjew9BaYOdHEcACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/seebeyond.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">“Mysticism keeps men sane. As long as you have mystery you have health; when you destroy mystery you create morbidity. The ordinary man has always been sane because the ordinary man has always been a mystic. He has permitted the twilight. He has always had one foot in earth and the other in fairyland. He has always left himself free to doubt his gods; but (unlike the agnostic of to-day) free also to believe in them. He has always cared more for truth than for consistency. If he saw two truths that seemed to contradict each other, he would take the two truths and contradiction along with them. His spiritual sight is stereoscopic, like his physical sight: he sees two different pictures at once and yet sees all the better for that. Thus, he has always believed that there was such a thing as fate, but such a thing as free will also. Thus, he believes that children were indeed the kingdom of heaven, but nevertheless ought to be obedient to the kingdom of earth. He admired youth because it was young and age because it was not. It is exactly this balance of apparent contradictions that has been the whole buoyancy of the healthy man. The whole secret of mysticism is this: that man can understand everything by the help of what he does not understand. The morbid logician seeks to make everything lucid, and succeeds in making everything mysterious. The mystic allows one thing to be mysterious, and everything else becomes lucid.”</span></div><p></p><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">― G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (1908)</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-7168215231267742852021-02-01T12:32:00.000-08:002021-02-01T12:32:15.835-08:00<p><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: black; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: black; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pl-baTNWBhc/YBhlCXjSP-I/AAAAAAAAGuU/JzW7w6VzZEoqXGfSpiWeuEIi4qRoIECrQCLcBGAsYHQ/s750/Don_Quixote_errant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="750" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pl-baTNWBhc/YBhlCXjSP-I/AAAAAAAAGuU/JzW7w6VzZEoqXGfSpiWeuEIi4qRoIECrQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Don_Quixote_errant.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: black; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />“When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams — this may be madness. Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!” </span></span><p></p><p><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: black; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">~Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Don Quixote</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-66869242028175208682020-08-22T12:41:00.007-07:002020-08-22T13:15:25.235-07:00Tomorrow Again<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RwmIZFgncFs/X0F8Mu-Y34I/AAAAAAAAGpY/o9cuZ2Q9gsgwvJJlHrJ46nMrsv--sWsZgCLcBGAsYHQ/s800/durer%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="545" data-original-width="800" height="223" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RwmIZFgncFs/X0F8Mu-Y34I/AAAAAAAAGpY/o9cuZ2Q9gsgwvJJlHrJ46nMrsv--sWsZgCLcBGAsYHQ/w328-h223/durer%2B2.jpg" width="328" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Tomorrow, at dawn, somewhat miraculously,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">The landlord in Rotterdam unbombed</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Will raise the quayside shutters, polish his glasses and cups,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">And arrange them again in glittering ranks.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">And at dusk, somewhere between Tiel and Nijmegen,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">The bell ringers will assemble again and spit in their hands</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Before grasping the sallies.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Peasants near Pforzheim</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Will hack with mattocks at frost-bitten grass</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">In a field that looks and sounds, once more, as hard as iron,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">While heavy-whiskered Viennese cabbies</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Will straighten the blankets on their horses' quarters</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">And give them their feed in buckets.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">And students, scholars, monks and clerks,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">In ones and twos, will rise again from straw</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">And spur along the highways, uncertain of a roof,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Reciting Plato, Shakespeare, Horace, Villon</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">As they go.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">All those who hold their ground and keep the continent in place--</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">The constant widows, landlords, blacksmiths, bargemen--</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Will eye their coming,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Then hear their plans,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Raise a brow, signal them to wait,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Bring down a long stone bottle</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">And some bread to share</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">Again.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: black;">~Michael Duggan</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-38165401348158467212020-07-31T19:12:00.003-07:002020-07-31T19:12:56.787-07:00Can I Have a Grant?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zKyjd2qfhro/XyTPcSpqzII/AAAAAAAAGoM/og8JQ1nRcwsMNJ4XIHY1z4J2RhrktCKpgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/image%2B%25281%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="610" height="223" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zKyjd2qfhro/XyTPcSpqzII/AAAAAAAAGoM/og8JQ1nRcwsMNJ4XIHY1z4J2RhrktCKpgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/image%2B%25281%2529.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-24355881695214041172020-05-21T01:00:00.000-07:002020-05-21T01:00:00.454-07:00Eucatastrophe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px; line-height: 1.4em; margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-top: 0.8em;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVPCSBjgNR4OdhSz_NnKzA1vhs8wlzUsRefU_I9q-F2vv2o_ZsvAbbUGUyXU26U5x3csPXfzLApQ1X9H719GibjoNgRe7h2trGee-wfjig4mgjN1Z1JVJWjE-HOWdbeE3537TduZ70lU/s1600/ascension+of+christ%252C+salvador+dali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="905" data-original-width="960" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVPCSBjgNR4OdhSz_NnKzA1vhs8wlzUsRefU_I9q-F2vv2o_ZsvAbbUGUyXU26U5x3csPXfzLApQ1X9H719GibjoNgRe7h2trGee-wfjig4mgjN1Z1JVJWjE-HOWdbeE3537TduZ70lU/s320/ascension+of+christ%252C+salvador+dali.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">Ascension of Christ, Salvador Dali (1958)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"><b>Eucatastrophe</b> is a neologism coined by J.R.R. <a href="http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/J.R.R._Tolkien" style="text-decoration-line: none;" title="J.R.R. Tolkien">Tolkien</a> from Greek <i>ευ-</i> "good" and <i>καταστροφή</i> "destruction".</span></div>
<dl style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;"><dd style="margin: 0px 0px 1em 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">"<i>I coined the word 'eucatastrophe': the sudden happy turn in a story which pierces you with a joy that brings tears (which I argued it is the highest function of fairy-stories to produce). And I was there led to the view that it produces its peculiar effect because it is a sudden glimpse of Truth, your whole nature chained in material cause and effect, the chain of death, feels a sudden relief as if a major limb out of joint had suddenly snapped back. It perceives – if the story has literary 'truth' on the second plane (....) – that this is indeed how things really do work in the Great World for which our nature is made. And I concluded by saying that the Resurrection was the greatest 'eucatastrophe' possible in the greatest Fairy Story – and produces that essential emotion: Christian joy which produces tears because it is qualitatively so like sorrow, because it comes from those places where Joy and Sorrow are at one, reconciled, as selfishness and altruism are lost in Love.</i>"</span></dd><dd style="margin: 0px 0px 1em 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">― <a href="http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Letter_89" style="text-decoration-line: none;" title="Letter 89">Letter 89</a></span></dd></dl>
</blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-24668520399000409152020-05-15T16:07:00.001-07:002020-05-15T16:19:24.210-07:00Dogfight in the Sky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zmCDMHsLDf8/Xr8f2RpV0jI/AAAAAAAAGl4/KzvN1Ayfibs9MNbktDS9bRwjKLCxofnSACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Warplanes500Hero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="1260" height="126" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zmCDMHsLDf8/Xr8f2RpV0jI/AAAAAAAAGl4/KzvN1Ayfibs9MNbktDS9bRwjKLCxofnSACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Warplanes500Hero.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.25in; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After
consultation, the elderly squadron leader<br />
knew he would be fighting for survival:<br />
hormone therapy as back-up – thirty-seven sorties<br />
of carefully targeted external beam radiotherapy<br />
homing in on the prostate and surrounding area.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.25in; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When he
leaves the briefing room he’s kitted out,<br />
hands shaking, stomach churning, bladder full.<br />
Morning sunshine floods across the tarmac.<br />
This could be Biggin Hill in 1940. He can’t wait<br />
to take off, destroy the enemy, get the job done.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.25in; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The
other chaps have their own stories: one<br />
couldn’t climb up; another peed in the cockpit.<br />
He remembers those who didn’t come back:<br />
ditched; burnt; “some corner of a foreign field,”<br />
but, with the latest equipment, he should be fine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.25in; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He’s in
the cockpit, no longer troubled by nerves.<br />
Above him – a spotless blue sky: the face of heaven;<br />
the growl of the engines is music; a slight vibration,<br />
the gun carefully aimed, the button ready to press.<br />
He closes his eyes. It’s all over in minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.25in; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On the
runway a nurse is smiling at him.<br />
He climbs down and smooths his moustache –<br />
relief – the fuselage undamaged – no friendly fire.<br />
He slips off his gown and opens his log book:<br />
mission accomplished – one down, thirty-six to go.</span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.25in; text-indent: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Walking
across the tarmac he passes more pilots,<br />
one – no more than a boy, some – hardened veterans.<br />
He recalls that day in July 1940 when he was nearly<br />
shot down – saved for another kind of dogfight;<br />
another kind of enemy; another kind of war.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">~ A. K. Shaw</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-14872235769164542932020-05-10T14:41:00.001-07:002020-05-10T14:42:28.446-07:00True<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixGzH_JcC9ulYZfZiROb-1RMG-RKqhH34cRbywWfD4EvxCkDpN_y4pvMaIhGWaUFhEHk2K-tM4byBTviB4wKKXP_CiZSKqrpvGgUaVioPs6hizQKjGmyQLXYXjrPNcmj8IXddO-QbTUmQ/s1600/shakespeares-creative-process_FeaturedThumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1000" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixGzH_JcC9ulYZfZiROb-1RMG-RKqhH34cRbywWfD4EvxCkDpN_y4pvMaIhGWaUFhEHk2K-tM4byBTviB4wKKXP_CiZSKqrpvGgUaVioPs6hizQKjGmyQLXYXjrPNcmj8IXddO-QbTUmQ/s320/shakespeares-creative-process_FeaturedThumb.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">"She often thought back to the court theater in Whitehall. She thought of the small gestures of the actors, of the long sentences, their ever-varying, nearly musical rhythm, now swift and clattering along, now dying gradually away, now questioning, now bristling with authority. There had been theater performances whenever she came to the court to visit her parents. People stood on the stage and dissembled, but she had grasped at once that this was not so at all and that the d<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">issembling too was merely a mask, for it was not the theater that was false, no, everything else was pretense, disguise, and frippery, everything that was not theater was false. On the stage people were themselves, completely true, fully transparent. In real life no one spoke in soliloquies. Everyone kept his thoughts to himself, faces could not be read, everyone dragged the dead weight of his secrets. No one stood alone in his room and spoke aloud about his desires and fears, but when Burbage did so on the stage, in his rasping voice, his very thin fingers at eye level, it seemed unnatural that men should forever conceal what transpired within them. And what words he used! Rich words, rare, shimmering like cloth of gold—sentences so perfectly constructed that they were beyond anything you yourself could ever have managed. This is how things should be, the theater told you, this is how you should talk, how you should hold yourself, how you should feel, this is what it would be like to be a true human being."</span></span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">~from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Tyll-Novel-Daniel-Kehlmann/dp/1524747467/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1589146788&sr=1-1">TYLL, a novel by Daniel Kehlmann</a>, translated from German by Ross Benjamin</span></div>
</div>
</blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-36199765234210223222020-05-07T14:32:00.003-07:002020-05-07T14:32:58.366-07:00Let My People Go!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kJuqcTzjE20/XrR436PtrpI/AAAAAAAAGks/91kVzWa1FCARpw1zbxha1cU7CCdDhBlegCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/seventh%2Bplague%2Bof%2Begypt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="1003" height="171" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kJuqcTzjE20/XrR436PtrpI/AAAAAAAAGks/91kVzWa1FCARpw1zbxha1cU7CCdDhBlegCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/seventh%2Bplague%2Bof%2Begypt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">John Martin, Seventh Plague of Egypt (1823)</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-12905895664703769662020-04-10T15:56:00.001-07:002020-04-10T16:03:09.596-07:00A Mother's Love and Pain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G4UTYHxXMbA/XpD5hmA0l6I/AAAAAAAAGj0/sHQ-8yj8vY8QtslqR4CWtWfQTM9YYYVhwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/pieta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="671" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G4UTYHxXMbA/XpD5hmA0l6I/AAAAAAAAGj0/sHQ-8yj8vY8QtslqR4CWtWfQTM9YYYVhwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/pieta.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"><em style="font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">"Is it right to bring a baby into this terrible world?</em><span style="font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> Every woman asks herself that question. Some say no, and they have their reasons. Mary answers yes, voluntarily, knowing full well what's to come — as do all mothers, if they allow themselves to see. It's an act of supreme courage, when undertaken voluntarily."</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">~Jordan Peterson </span></blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-61570910998354188322020-03-22T14:51:00.000-07:002020-03-22T14:51:29.348-07:00The Greatest Mystery of All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vAb-V9XnT6c/Xnfcn46V9xI/AAAAAAAAGi0/t_Bm4btc1iQoqPfWtQ2JeS7AgvA0FgH6wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/baby%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="175" data-original-width="600" height="93" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vAb-V9XnT6c/Xnfcn46V9xI/AAAAAAAAGi0/t_Bm4btc1iQoqPfWtQ2JeS7AgvA0FgH6wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/baby%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“...a little creature, formed in some mysterious fashion . . . by the fusion of two mysteries, or rather two sets of a trillion mysteries each . . . and then permitted to accumulate trillions of its own mysteries; the whole suffused with consciousness, which is the only real thing in the world and the greatest mystery of all.”</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">~Vladimir Nabokov, "Bend Sinister" (1947)</span></blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-5414442347426225602020-02-22T14:47:00.000-08:002020-02-22T14:47:15.437-08:00Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ftugg5RE2P4/XlGtYCeaUJI/AAAAAAAAGiI/EhehnyDwIPAOcmLk0Wjk2zapV05RcVNewCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/oldies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="1184" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ftugg5RE2P4/XlGtYCeaUJI/AAAAAAAAGiI/EhehnyDwIPAOcmLk0Wjk2zapV05RcVNewCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/oldies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">"Love is only surpassing sweet when it is directed toward a mortal object, and the secret of this ultimate sweetness only is defined by the bitterness of death."</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">~<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Rosenzweig">Franz Rosenzweig </a></span></span></blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-44966811973465023042019-11-14T09:30:00.000-08:002019-11-14T09:31:43.025-08:00Grilling Gretel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3TqgXDc0yLs/Xc2PJXV0gVI/AAAAAAAAGg0/Vstoij3fB60K7GsGFye5hqQ_EDWOcOI6gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/bliss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="486" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3TqgXDc0yLs/Xc2PJXV0gVI/AAAAAAAAGg0/Vstoij3fB60K7GsGFye5hqQ_EDWOcOI6gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/bliss.jpg" width="282" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-63965555664923962192019-11-08T12:51:00.000-08:002019-11-14T09:33:44.149-08:00The World Must Be Romanticized<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8a2fqHJTV68/XcXUiQPWiwI/AAAAAAAAGgg/1udnvy2t3pUApeEe5t8Bs0NLUR9-cO4LwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Accolade_by_Edmund_Blair_Leighton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1374" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8a2fqHJTV68/XcXUiQPWiwI/AAAAAAAAGgg/1udnvy2t3pUApeEe5t8Bs0NLUR9-cO4LwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Accolade_by_Edmund_Blair_Leighton.jpg" width="186" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">The Accolade, Edmund Leighton, 1901</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">"The world must be romanticized. Only in that way will one rediscover its original senses. Romanticization is nothing less than a qualitative raising of the power of a thing... I romanticize something when I give the commonplace a higher meaning, the known the dignity of the unknown, and the finite the appearance of the infinite."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">~ <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novalis">Novalis</a></span></blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-81109960222319874592019-10-27T14:26:00.001-07:002019-10-27T14:27:52.699-07:00al-Baghdadi - Into the Void<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QM7obVQ1LG4/XbYKV99aftI/AAAAAAAAGgQ/7pS2ot3s6GwsypceL8zz9U9mOOBY7HX8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/bag1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1344" data-original-width="940" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QM7obVQ1LG4/XbYKV99aftI/AAAAAAAAGgQ/7pS2ot3s6GwsypceL8zz9U9mOOBY7HX8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/bag1.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">"There is in Islam a paradox which is perhaps a permanent
menace. The great creed born in the desert creates a kind of ecstasy of the
very emptiness of its own land, and even, one may say, out of the emptiness of
its own theology... A void is made in the heart of Islam which has to be filled
up again and again by a mere repetition of the revolution that founded it.
There are no sacraments; the only thing that can happen is a sort of
apocalypse, as unique as the end of the world; so the apocalypse can only be
repeated and the world end again and again. There are no priests; and yet this equality
can only breed a multitude of lawless prophets almost as numerous as priests.
The very dogma that there is only one Mahomet produces an endless procession of
Mahomets.<span style="font-size: 13.3333px;">"</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">~G. K. Chesterton </span></blockquote>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-88711726006463556282019-10-11T11:54:00.001-07:002019-10-11T12:00:19.699-07:00Rembrandt Painted The Best Portrait Of Freedom Ever<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0yzlYar2AM/XaDP_pggTvI/AAAAAAAAGf8/LJTcGNCeZN41RrScBz6E36SP4gImkaW6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/1024px-La_ronda_de_noche%252C_por_Rembrandt_van_Rijn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="834" data-original-width="1024" height="260" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0yzlYar2AM/XaDP_pggTvI/AAAAAAAAGf8/LJTcGNCeZN41RrScBz6E36SP4gImkaW6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/1024px-La_ronda_de_noche%252C_por_Rembrandt_van_Rijn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
No other well-known work of art claiming to reflect the idea of freedom seems to withstand a real competition with <a href="https://thefederalist.com/2019/10/11/rembrandt-painted-the-best-portrait-of-freedom-ever-and-here-it-is/?fbclid=IwAR0V0VMzhuE4gffKO8ztAdPx0HQVERNs2mtT3LpFO994KvHKKhTdMEuXhQM">The Night Watch (click for more</a>).</blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-77793236758276891302019-09-19T16:30:00.001-07:002019-09-19T16:30:22.046-07:00Ouroboros <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKHr2ybezJE50m1NgdjXiEt7efithHS4uslmzP7FPGXMeoHh2V-WWDfFxJRbvUnllMO497ZOrhiZd6ZTIbRZ54tSjfGyW7OGWuKtTi9VDg0aqrxuIT_WC-WRxJ2Mhatu2Fl6RnFyKhXo/s1600/oro.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKHr2ybezJE50m1NgdjXiEt7efithHS4uslmzP7FPGXMeoHh2V-WWDfFxJRbvUnllMO497ZOrhiZd6ZTIbRZ54tSjfGyW7OGWuKtTi9VDg0aqrxuIT_WC-WRxJ2Mhatu2Fl6RnFyKhXo/s1600/oro.jpg" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_1wp" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px;">
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">"Symbols are the natural speech of the soul, a language older and more universal than words." </span></div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_1wp" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px;">
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">~Edmund Spencer</span></div>
</div>
<div class="_3x-2" data-ft="{"tn":"H"}" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
<div data-ft="{"tn":"H"}" style="font-family: inherit;">
<div class="mtm" style="font-family: inherit; margin-top: 10px;">
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<a ajaxify="/317948435812210/photos/a.324698011803919/375618063378580/?type=3&eid=ARAHRqvxDRtRSJNeBbSWVdWJHuLE6sMbpg4fX8P-qYEa0xzTOx0Aez8vYqDJCcy95qTrKECHAmvETCdI&size=622%2C490&fbid=375618063378580&source=13&player_origin=unknown&__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARCvs_n-LDWYBmf82wMV9CR_p4L2nAknQtvqVQ0fpLPgYLX0dKeyubD9EjOymqOb9VSw8T4wVFYsMhEzVSAVGz1nHCf7ISDTHQ_3D0dQg_0B-0QzwlGUFPh3rjcE4K7G1DbsJbOfYFs0EW9z4cMlID_QqtoW5MmBOfClCoC5cFlbWn_9BrzYzv_XD9xOwloFaHvjP73cminzuss5eu46UK5RpssptkFgt-Jq0ZE-asTjkN6QQYWbbn9iuJaCtgsOSVo3MsQLw65a2f6QG03iM8FsOKaZ99Bbb4MUXhzIlxi49gf9CxNJO8E0F3EOQFRJkz8669YdYbnAUT2Rog3uqJ7M8iLjEX6TT2NUcRr9P1Ohv0GrgheJ&__tn__=EHH-R" class="_4-eo _2t9n" data-ploi="https://scontent-lax3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/71401654_375618066711913_4229962188585959424_n.jpg?_nc_cat=100&_nc_eui2=AeHRstNiUjq9JrUr600ttq9XFMoJZlFIYJKkpF71P0ndT3JI7f0whSmG9ZrDDQXcwyooXUC7bGqR-TyawLE19oGNqzOIaEj4MMwgfv0hWQltTw&_nc_oc=AQm6l40Bk6D5zZpQV91795kWefHN7wOYGRlU2uaBoXXf8Pnq-sFceGywUm2OCKUbjhc&_nc_pt=1&_nc_ht=scontent-lax3-2.xx&oh=a0f4bb282f7c851660cbab0399ad370f&oe=5E3D97BB" data-render-location="newsstand" href="https://www.facebook.com/317948435812210/photos/a.324698011803919/375618063378580/?type=3&eid=ARAHRqvxDRtRSJNeBbSWVdWJHuLE6sMbpg4fX8P-qYEa0xzTOx0Aez8vYqDJCcy95qTrKECHAmvETCdI&__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARCvs_n-LDWYBmf82wMV9CR_p4L2nAknQtvqVQ0fpLPgYLX0dKeyubD9EjOymqOb9VSw8T4wVFYsMhEzVSAVGz1nHCf7ISDTHQ_3D0dQg_0B-0QzwlGUFPh3rjcE4K7G1DbsJbOfYFs0EW9z4cMlID_QqtoW5MmBOfClCoC5cFlbWn_9BrzYzv_XD9xOwloFaHvjP73cminzuss5eu46UK5RpssptkFgt-Jq0ZE-asTjkN6QQYWbbn9iuJaCtgsOSVo3MsQLw65a2f6QG03iM8FsOKaZ99Bbb4MUXhzIlxi49gf9CxNJO8E0F3EOQFRJkz8669YdYbnAUT2Rog3uqJ7M8iLjEX6TT2NUcRr9P1Ohv0GrgheJ&__tn__=EHH-R" rel="theater" style="box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.05) 0px 1px 1px; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; display: block; font-family: inherit; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none; width: 500px;"></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-82748222813086730872019-09-09T11:47:00.001-07:002019-09-09T11:47:44.341-07:00"the raving ones"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0TFqFAQQNyA/XXab_50sZlI/AAAAAAAAGfc/WLi6bB8f6wgj1s5arzM3R6VwZntOMRGVACLcBGAs/s1600/beautiful-Girl-In-Water-Desktop-blue-eyes-women-HD-Wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0TFqFAQQNyA/XXab_50sZlI/AAAAAAAAGfc/WLi6bB8f6wgj1s5arzM3R6VwZntOMRGVACLcBGAs/s320/beautiful-Girl-In-Water-Desktop-blue-eyes-women-HD-Wallpaper.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">"Suffice it to say that what the word “freedom” has generally come to mean for most of us now, when our usage is at its most habitual and unreflective, is libertarian autonomy and spontaneous volition, the negative freedom of the unrestrained or, at least, minimally restrained individual will. It is a concept of freedom not only impoverished, but ultimately incoherent."</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">~David Bentley Hart </span></blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-66459469356449966982019-08-19T17:24:00.000-07:002019-08-19T17:24:52.755-07:00Here Be Dragons<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qeuuo3dTS-8/XVs8fn1qiBI/AAAAAAAAGe8/BU0tjPxrkbc7GV8fzxVEf8qriBq_RO3JwCLcBGAs/s1600/Elena%2BKukanova%252C%2BThe%2BDeath%2Bof%2BGlaurung.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="543" data-original-width="745" height="233" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qeuuo3dTS-8/XVs8fn1qiBI/AAAAAAAAGe8/BU0tjPxrkbc7GV8fzxVEf8qriBq_RO3JwCLcBGAs/s320/Elena%2BKukanova%252C%2BThe%2BDeath%2Bof%2BGlaurung.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">The Death of Glaurung by Elena Kukanova</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_198" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;"></span><br />
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">“Fairy tales are more than true — not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.”</span></div>
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</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_198" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px;">
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">– G.K. Chesterton</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3;">(from <a href="https://themedievalprofessor.com/?fbclid=IwAR1bSi7DtszURRXcQv2gGk2vHavgBDvMsKtNeIEw9CMzD55YZquipFNbsgc">The Medieval Professor</a>) </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-55797077373859977302019-07-24T21:12:00.002-07:002019-08-05T17:39:45.156-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g6fsVN3YxOE/XTkrtOVEylI/AAAAAAAAGeM/1C2IECQJY2AL7JA2ufBr1n4KZu6cxhDRACLcBGAs/s1600/crossroad%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1600" height="134" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g6fsVN3YxOE/XTkrtOVEylI/AAAAAAAAGeM/1C2IECQJY2AL7JA2ufBr1n4KZu6cxhDRACLcBGAs/s320/crossroad%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: rgb(0 , 0 , 0); font-family: "georgia" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“Stand by the crossroads, and
look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and
find rest for your souls” (Jer. 6:16).</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
</blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685963484876184969.post-64127476907026393122019-06-14T07:33:00.001-07:002019-06-14T07:33:57.645-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Q1cJOad6OJpxzYggs5ubgd2Ea-i1-kaeDINpwdV6FjWo5fztjpkOsazm5wEr-0216udrSm1mt-vnf4mQgbqXXfezZhoYrb5wkwZ9lmDE9wKZLOYwBEHnJhHAQKUKSWK1Cx2hj3xVDas/s1600/image1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="486" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Q1cJOad6OJpxzYggs5ubgd2Ea-i1-kaeDINpwdV6FjWo5fztjpkOsazm5wEr-0216udrSm1mt-vnf4mQgbqXXfezZhoYrb5wkwZ9lmDE9wKZLOYwBEHnJhHAQKUKSWK1Cx2hj3xVDas/s320/image1.JPG" width="282" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0