I Will Justify The Ways Of Christmas To Man

“My suspicion, then, is that as mankind gains more and more control over nature, we will need Christmas to begin earlier and earlier. If we are impatient, we are impatient to escape the atheistic world of time in which modernity has trapped us.

“So,” sneers the grinch, “you’d prefer Christmas to begin in January? Is that what you’re shilling for now?” Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. Absolutely.”

-from There’s A Good Reason The Christmas Season Keeps Getting Longer, my latest for CiRCE

Decluttering Your Way To Hell

“Americans have so many things that a certain kind of book has lately proliferated which is expressly designed to make readers want to get rid of their things, and to feel good about it. Simplicity and minimalism are hot ticket non-items this year. Of course, minimalism is really just another kind of thing you buy. We purchase food dehydrators as the accoutrements of diets which will help us lose weight so we can feel chic in our black mock-turtleneck sweaters… and then we purchase books telling us to simplify, to get rid of our food dehydrators, and we tell ourselves that such simplicity is part of a new, sleek, more European image we are adopting, which will, incidentally, need to be accessorized with a black mock-turtleneck sweater. Americans do not actually know this is European, but it seems European, for every American keeps a somewhat Romantic notion that somewhere in Sweden, or Austria, or Belgium, or perhaps Tokyo, there is a certain kind of sleek, sophisticated way of life which comes from wearing black, drinking white wine, having no children, and knowing who Mark Rothko is. Even ugly, stupid people in Austria know who Mark Rothko is. Austrian people are Criterion Collection human beings.”

-from Decluttering and Simplifying Your Way To Hell

How Do You Test On That?

“First, your work needs to be typed, printed, and stapled in the top left corner.

Second, you need to use the Calibri font and may not mess with margins.

Third, the paper itself needs to be pristine. If it’s wrinkled at all, I won’t accept it. Seriously.

Fourth, your work needs to be signed by a parent. Your parent’s signature should go below the last line on the last page.

Fifth, you may not extensively quote from any work. You may include two quotations, neither of which may be longer than ten words.

Sixth, do not print on both sides. Print on one side only.

Seventh, in the top left corner of the first page, put your name, your section, the date, and my name. This assignment should not have a title.

NOTE: On the day this work is due, I will inspect each individual submission before accepting it. If your work doesn’t meet the requirements listed above, your work will not be accepted. You will have to submit it the following day at a twenty-point penalty.”

-My latest for CiRCE offers a little help to younger teachers who have to give longer writing assignments.

Unintended Telos

There is a sense in which German higher criticism is simply a reductio ad absurdum of historical-grammatical hermeneutics.

The problem for those who depend entirely on historical-grammatical hermeneutics isn’t that higher criticism is wrong, but that it’s entirely possible within such a hermeneutical framework. In other words, the problem isn’t the assertions of higher criticism, but insufficient proof to back them up; however, this could change with a few archaeological discoveries.

I say all this as someone who is deeply impressed by Austin Farrer and Dale Allison Jr.

It’s Halloween. Let’s Talk About Dark Music.

“Gibbs: When I was your age, I liked a lot of dark stuff, as well, and I liked it for that very reason.

Student: Which reason?

Gibbs: It wasn’t happy-clappy pop music about how great life is all the time. Although, let’s be honest. It’s not happy-clappy pop music I was rebelling against. It was happy-clappy Christian pop music I was rebelling against, which is the happiest-clappiest stuff imaginable.

Student: Fair enough. I hate that stuff.

Gibbs: I did, too.

Student: The people who listen to that stuff make me gag. That music is so fake. It makes people who listen to it fake, too.

Gibbs: Huh.

Student: Do you still listen to dark music?

Gibbs: Not really. If Korn’s “Got the Life” came on the radio, I might listen to it for old time’s sake, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to track it down. But I don’t know why I’d be listening to a radio station that might play Korn.

Student: Korn? Seriously?

Gibbs: Back in high school? Absolutely. I died my hair black, wore Doc Martens, smoked British cigarettes. The whole bit.

Student: Who else did you listen to?

Gibbs: Marilyn Manson. Nine Inch Nails. And just look at me now: I wear a blue blazer to work and try to persuade you to confess to your parents all the bad things you’ve gotten away with.

Student: Wait, so why did you listen to Marilyn Manson?

Gibbs: Because it was dark. Because it was the antithesis of the gutless, smarmy, saccharine-sweet, Jesus-is-my-boyfriend, everything-is-going-to-be-fine pop music that typified Christian popular culture at the time. That stuff seemed as false and hollow as possible, so I wanted the opposite of it.

Student: Did it work?”

-from my latest for CiRCE

The First Time I Have Done This In Years

I deleted my Facebook account three and a half years ago, but I downloaded the entire account and look at the pictures every now and again. Tonight I went through a few years worth of old posts, most of which are pointless, and found the following posts which seemed worth saving, most of which pertain to my eldest:

One. Me: Who locked the front door?

Camilla: Not me.

Beatrice: Not me.

Me: Well, momma is gone, so it was one of you two.

Camilla: It wasn’t me.

Beatrice: It wasn’t me.

Me: Who locked the door?

Camilla: It wasn’t me.

Beatrice: It wasn’t me.

Me: Camilla, did you lock the door?

Camilla: No.

Me: Beatrice, did you lock the door?

Beatrice: No.

Me: Beatrice, did Camilla lock the door?

Beatrice: No.

Me: Camilla, did Beatrice lock the door?

Camilla: Yes.

Me: Beatrice, did you lock the door?

Beatrice: No.

Me: Beatrice, do not lie to me. Did you lock the door?

Beatrice: No.

Me: Did you lock it?

Beatrice: No.

Me: (holding up icon of the wedding at Cana) Did you do it?

Beatrice: No.

Me: Tell Jesus you did not lock the door.

Beatrice: I locked it.

Me: You did?

Beatrice: Yes. I locked it.

Two. Camilla brings a half dollar to me.

Camilla: Who is on this coin?

Me: John F Kennedy. He was a president who was assassinated in 1963.

Camilla: Was he important?

Me: I suppose every president who is assassinated becomes important. He was also the only Catholic man who has been president.

Camilla: You mean George Washington was Orthodox?

Me: Uh, no.

Camilla: Who is president now?

Me: Barack Obama.

Camilla: Ha ha! Is that a stage name, like “Lady Gaga”?

Me: No, it is his real name.

Camilla: Are you going to put this on Facebook?

Three. Paula: Camilla, would you get my wallet?

Camilla: (running off) Ooh-da-lolly!

Four. Camilla wrote on a friend’s valentine, “You are my third best friend.” When asked who her first two best friends were, she said Jesus and Peter Pan.

Five. Me: David Bowie died last night.

Camilla: Oh, no! I hope he used his life properly!

Six. Camilla regarded a decorative placard which said, “You Light Up My Life,” and remarked, “That’s nice, but if it said, ‘Light Up My Life, You,” that would be very demanding.”

Seven. “God is like Obi-Wan. He comes to you in your mind.”

Eight. Camilla: There’s a cemetery.
Me: What’s a cemetery?
Camilla: It’s a place for dead people and for living people who respect them.

Nine. Camilla got a rabbit fur scarf from her grandmother for Christmas.

Camilla: Rabbits are the only animals that are soft enough to kill and wear.

Me: Well, there are others.

Camilla: Like horses?

Me: I don’t think horses have fur.

Camilla: Hamsters are soft and have fur, though.

Ten. Me: We’re both going to school today.

Camilla: That’s right.

Me: Where do we go to school?

Camilla: Veritas. Veritas is an old Indian name.

Me: It’s an old Latin name.

Camilla: It’s an old Latin name that might have belonged to an Indian.

Eleven. Camilla: Pie is an old kind of dessert.

Me: That’s true. Who told you that?

Camilla: The things that cannot talk told me that.

Twelve. Pulled out the Bible this evening to read from early Exodus.

Me: Camilla, whose story are we reading?

Camilla: Moses.

Me: What is Moses trying to do?

Camilla: He is trying to get God to stop hurting the Egyptians

Thirteen. Camilla: If you make good music, then you’re a good person.

Gibbs: That is sometimes true, but not always.

Camilla: What about David Bowie? He made good music and he was a knight. He was a servant of the queen. That’s good.

Gibbs: That is true, and it was good he served the queen. But David Bowie lived a life full of sin. He didn’t really pursue virtue until he was quite old. When you think of David Bowie, you should pray for his soul.

Camilla: Well, it’s good he pursued virtue when he was old. What about Michael Jackson?

Fourteen. Gibbs: What are you writing?

Camilla: My autobiography.

Gibbs: What’s the first line?

Camilla: (turns over to first page) “Hello.”

Gibbs: What’s the second line?

Camilla: “There, I said it.”

Gibbs: What part are you on now?

Camilla: Chapter two.

Gibbs: What’s chapter two about?

Camilla: How I want a horse.

Fifteen. Camilla: Have you ever heard of someone being named ‘Beef’?

Paula: No. Why? Have you?

Camilla: (sadly) No.

Sixteen. Gibbs: The Son is God, but so is the Father. But the Son and the Father are different.

Camilla: This is very hard to understand.

Gibbs: It is a mystery.

Camilla: Trixie Belden solves mysteries.

Seventeen. Camilla: I want to go swimming in the Trevi Fountain. Dad, has anyone ever gone swimming in the Trevi Fountain?

Me: Famously, yes.

Camilla: George Washington?