A Guy Named Claude

As I sit here ruminating and pecking away at a paper on Hamlet, eating popcorn and wishing the kitchen weren't so far away that I have to get up to get a drink of orange juice, a typo strikes my eye and sparks a thought.

There Is Much Difference ...

... between imitating a good man, and counterfeiting him.

Dreaming of a White ...

... House.  Again.  I know.  But wouldn't you live here if you could?

From Our Mother's Arms

Here it be, mon freres.

On the Beauty of Saying Goodnight

Exercising the prerogative that sole proprietorship confers, I hereby decree Thursday to be the middle of this week, and promise (with the almost infinite condescension commensurate with such greatness) to provide a piece of music for you then.  As to the movement of the day, the Europeans and the great GKC himself give us a precedent in any case; as to the music, it may not be very much better by having been waiting for, but at least it will be—which it isn’t now—and existence, they say, is a good thing in and of itself.

The Tongue of Slander Slays Three

... the speaker, the spoken to, and the spoken of.

I've Never Been Able to Decide ...

... whether this song is the perfection of misery or the misery of perfection.

One Week Later

Aside from being a cheesily-voiced Bob Hope line from that scintillating all-star war-time radio drama entitled "Dick Tracy in B Flat" (listen to a four minute clip), "One Week Later" strikes me as being an apt way to introduce the topic of last Tuesday.

Patient Waiting ...

... is often the highest way of doing God's work on earth.

Even More Than Yesterday

We'll do see-I-told-you-so's another time.

Because We Need a Muse Today

There will be mourning or celebration tomorrow, of course.  But it seems appropriate to to express this request now rather than then.

When the Fox Preaches ...

... beware of your geese.

And Now, for Something Completely Different

So, you think "We Will Rock You" is what they played at medieval tournaments?  You think Chaucer had that on his playlist?  Think again.

Wumpick and the Wimpy Apostolate

[On occasion, when I produce some fictional missive or dialogue for this blog, I feel it necessary to remind my readers that the persons represented bear no resemblance to other persons, real.  (Their resemblance to other fictional persons is a matter of course.)  In the present instance I think it prudent to reiterate for the sake of my friends that the patient is NOT me, nor her state of mind mine.  What relation my habits of thought bear to those of the other characters in this drama, it should—even to those who know me well—be wholly unnecessary to state. ~Saturday.]

My dear Wumpick,

Have You Looked Outside Today?

Fortunately, our house is on a hill.

It Is Cruelty to the Innocent ...

... not to punish the guilty.

When Only Handel Will Do

Yes, you've seen these folks before!

Truth Has a Handsome Countenance ...

... but torn garments.

"Lazy"

Sooooo, grad school ... it brings out strange things in the heart of man (or woman). Tendencies of which one wotted not before.  First I find myself relating to Hamlet, and now this:

If You Didn't Come Here from NCR, Go Right Back

And read about Justice Scalia.