Recent
True Romance
Mentioned last week the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, a term used in film to refer to a female — not a woman, mark you, but a girl or perhaps female, depending on the level of [im]maturity — who exists in a story not for herself, more deeply not as a Self, but only for the
On Real
Learned of late that several people — at least three husbands in young marriages, two with young children, everyone in his 20s — had not only never read The Velveteen Rabbit … but hadn’t heard of it. That sorta explains why it’s public domain and I can link to it here. Also explains why when
Subjective, Objective
The other day I wrote on a wing and a whim … and misremembering. Or as Prufrock put it, quoting Woman — That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all. Nearly nothing I recalled happened in that way. Except of course the recalling. And a bit more. Wasn’t a
People do the Craziest Things
Adam — did he do what he did for love? Did he say, ‘I will join her; I can’t bear to be without her.’ — is that how it went down? He at after Eve; was it because he’d rather skulk around the earth a sojourner and pilgrim at the mercy of the people in that
Random
Why Not Two Cupcakes?
Something we know well and another I know little. Remember … re-member … before we begin Dallas Willard on knowing — namely … named-ly … not intellectual apprehension but interactive relationship. Each and both come from the same aim: good and right and lovely when well and harmful on all counts when not, as is
Everyone’s From Somewhere
On this the last day of August, is my only post for August. It’s been busy. I don’t much like that word — busy, not August — but it’s good shorthand, and right about nowshorthand is most welcome. In August we got new flooring in the kitchen and bathroom had the entire interior of the
Like A Rolling Stone
A totally unscientific survey — texted my brother-in-law on the other coast — shows [my] fears of the death of the ice cream cone have been at least mildly exaggerated … tho looking, literally, a little topsy-turvy. A’course, I’d not heard anything specific; the reports were only in my head because about nothing from this
The Fat Guy and Buttons
Buttons are the bane of the Fat Guy’s existence. Buttons leave gaps when the Fat Guy’s fat rolls jiggle around and peek through them. Buttons catch on drawer pulls, come undone at the belly, and are generally uncooperative. Buttons are generally on costlier clothing, which means the Fat Guy is spending too much money on