Barnabas, Son of Consolation
Barnabas, Son of Consolation
For Brother Barnabas.
Mostly Catholic Thoughts
By thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.
Compared with the beautiful Schönborn, Dulles seemed dull. I am reminded of Robert K. Greenleaf's observation: Much intellection is just noise. I'm glad to learn that Models of the Church appeared more than 40 years ago. Perhaps the "later Avery Dulles" that Robert Royal refers to is more tuneful?
Vaughan Williams proposed a five-year ban on German music in England. We can propose something similar: a five year ban on recorded music. “What I want to see in England,” Vaughan Williams tells us, “is everybody making music-however badly.” It is better to play “The Kesh Jig” badly than to listen to an exquisite recording of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, because “even at some immediate sacrifice of good we must develop our own culture to suit our own needs.” What I want to see is the same thing—everyone playing ethnic [not folk] music, even if they play it badly—in the new ethnic America freed from the bad dream of global hegemony.
Imagine the Outrage! if someone had put a crescent in a vat of pee and called it "Crescent in Piss." Or if someone smeared feces on a representation of Mohammad. Or if someone wore a Muslim holy symbol in a music video with lots of un-Muslim-like behavior going on. . . Or if someone referred to American Muslims in a prestigious American newspaper as "poor, undereducated, and easily led." Imagine Dead Like Me using Mohammad's name as a curse at least once an episode, and treating F-ing like his middle name.
Petra is a rock city in a deep gorge on the NE slope of Mt. Hor. Its temples and dwellings are carved from rose, crimson and purple limestone. It was a great commerical city for several centruries, captured by the Moslems in the 7th century and by the Crusaders in the 12th. Its ruins were discovered in 1812.
Petra was a prize poem, recited and published in Oxford in 1845. The phrase “half as old as Time” is set off with quotation marks and was probably borrowed from the 1838 revision of Samuel Rogers’s Italy (ii.5).
Familiarity with Burgon’s line is regarded as a touchstone of academic literary elegance. The knowledge that it is taken from Rogers offers a splendid opportunity for one-upmanship, especially the knowledge that it was an addition to the original form of Rogers’s poem. However, even further vistas of triumph have been opened with the discovery that Rogers probably borrowed the phrase from a satirical poem entitled Heroic Epistle to Burke, published anonymously in 1791. Therein we are told that
. . . awful grandeur guards the Gothic hall,
And crests and mantles dignify the wall;
Ensigns armorial, pedigrees sublime,
And wax and parchment half as old as time.
This would seem to take the phrase back to its origin were it not that the anonymous author states that there is in his poem “scarcely as single image which is not extracted from Mr. Burke’s celebrated Reflections.” No one has yet found the phrase in Burke, but it may be lurking somewhere—and Burke may have borrowed it; he was a widely-read man!
Dear Eighth Grade Parents,
There are many wonderful events for our eighth graders these last few weeks of school, and everyone is looking forward to celebration and good times.
It has come to my attention that a number of parents do not yet have Virtus training. If you do not, this does mean that you may not be with the children at the field trip at the dude ranch. Please teach our children to follow the rules. Even though not everyone agrees with the requirements, they are the Diocesan rules and we will adhere to them.
Please do not put Mrs. Q— or I in the difficult position of enforcing this rule for adults.
Virtus training is not required for Class Night or Graduation!
Peace and prayers,
Composed Upon Westminster Bridge
September 3, 1802
EARTH has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!