There are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity.

Fourteen theses to rescue wonder from the zeitgeist.

1. To discuss a thing, contemplate a thing, or enjoy a thing—either by tasting, hearing, or seeing—is not necessarily to wonder at that thing. This is true even when the thing being discussed or enjoyed is very good. Very few acts of thought or perception constitute wonder.  

2. Wonder cannot be scheduled, appointed, commodified, coerced, or sold. Unlike wisdom, wonder cannot even be offered to another. Wonder cannot be forced any more than contrition may be forced; however, adopting the posture of contrition often leads to genuine contrition.  

3. Wonder is a subliminal response to the perception of transcendence; for this reason, no man may decide to wonder. Nonetheless, we can create situations favorable to wonder. Our actions may bid wonder. While certain things are more apt to induce wonder than others, a mote of dust rightly understood may bring about the deepest wonder. Likewise, the doctrine of the Trinity or Caravaggio’s The Seven Acts of Mercy may inspire no wonder at all. 

4. A man may wish to experience wonder but be incapable of doing so.  

5. Many people adopt the posture of wonder without actually experiencing wonder; wonder is often pantomimed.  

6. The experience of wonder implies virtue; anyone who claims to experience wonder is also declaring, “I have done something virtuous”; people who often talk about their own virtuous actions are usually boors. 

7. The pleasure offered by wonder is like the pleasure of any virtue; virtue paradoxically offers a foretaste of the same pleasure it defers for later.  

8. Hence, wonder requires a long attention span; prolonged exposure to scrolling media, blockbuster entertainment, and screens in general makes wonder increasingly difficult, if not impossible.  

9. Like love, like friendship, like Chanel handbags, wonder is often faked. Like fake love, fake wonder is destructive to the soul in ways that often take years to manifest. 

10. Unlike curiosity, wonder is never satisfied; in this life, all wonder is necessarily unfulfilled; like hunger or thirst, wonder is quite vexing.   

11. One may enjoy a wonderful thing without experiencing wonder; impatient people often take pleasure from things when they could have pursued wonder. Receiving pleasure from a thing often puts an end to the soul’s search for wonder. 

12. Most people who experience wonder do not know to call it “wonder.” 

13. Wonder necessarily involves self-forgetfulness; in wonder, Peter walked on water; wonder should not be confused with the revelations that occur later, once wonder has ended, and the experience of wonder is being contemplated from a cool distance.  

14. Wonder arrives in silence; people who talk a lot rarely experience wonder; the fact a man is able to speak accurately about wonder does not imply he regularly experiences wonder. The author of these theses is not necessarily implying that he has ever experienced wonder.  

Read the rest of this article on The Classical Teaching Institute Blog.

This thing was probably made with shade grown organic aluminum that will slowly turn blue over the next thousand years.

Today, I spent around half an hour online filling out a 70+ question survey that would determine how biblical my worldview is. All the questions were multiple choice. Interestingly enough, many of the questions had nothing to do with what I believe, or even what I do, but rather how I feel when certain things happen to me.

At the end of the survey, this screen appeared.

One of the questions on the exam asked me to respond to the statement, “I always try to get something beneficial from from the way I spend my money.” I said this was “Occasionally” true. As such, I’m also the kind of person to blow $10 on the “Basic Scores-only” option. I’m just that curious.

I will let you know what my results were tomorrow, after the algorithm has assessed the biblicality of my weltanschauung.

Demon: You should watch a movie tonight.

Tom: I think you’re right. I will.

Demon: What are you in the mood for?

Tom: Something dark, I think.

Demon: Nice.

Tom: Ah, but here’s the thing. I’m going to view a dark movie with my Christian worldview.

Demon: Ooh, I’m really scared. Please don’t write a blog post reviewing the film which persuades other Christians they can watch dark movies, too. Whatever you do, don’t do that.

Tom: I’m going to. I’m going to write a blog post reviewing a dark movie with my Christian worldview.

Demon: Oh, no. How will I ever recover? Are you going to watch Fight Club again?

Tom: Yes, and I’m going to review it with my Christian worldview.

Demon: Fine, but whatever you do, don’t watch and review The Wolf of Wall Street with your Christian worldview.

Tom: Maybe I will, actually.

Demon: Is your blog post going to, like, talk about the nihilism in the movie?

Tom: Yes.

Demon: (yawning) Oh, no. Not that. You don’t think the movie has hidden Gospel themes, do you?

Tom: I might talk about the hidden Gospel themes in my review, too.

Demon: (lighting a cigarette) Oh, God. Please. Anything but that.

Tom: What are you going to do about it?

Demon: There’s nothing to be done. I’ll probably just go take a nap until it’s over.

“Teacher: Can we talk about Oliver? 

Principal: What has he done this time? 

Teacher: Today, just a lot of the same small stuff.  

Principal: Then what’s the problem? 

Teacher: I know that re-enrollment contracts are going out in a couple weeks and I wanted to know if you’re planning on inviting Oliver to come back next year? 

Principal: Look, Oliver is a tough student. I get it. But I’ve seen students turn things around during sophomore year and I think Oliver is capable of change.  

Teacher: Is there any student at this school who isn’t capable of change? 

Principal: No, I think everyone is capable of change.  

Teacher: I agree, but do you ever think it is appropriate to kick a student out? 

Principal: Sometimes, sure.  

Teacher: Then you sometimes have to kick out students who are capable of change.  

Principal: I suppose so.  

Teacher: Then why offer Oliver a re-enrollment contract?” 

-from my latest for CiRCE

Donostia anchovy stuffed green olives: for a memorable martini.

Torres brand foie gras potato chips: according to the label, made with real foie gras.

Primo specialty foods Blackberry Serrano Preserves: the best savory jam I’ve ever tasted.

This Caesar dressing is many orders of magnitude better than every other Caesar dressing.

Divina grilled green olives: not what you’re expecting (but in a good way).

Winter cocktail of the moment: Frangelico and lemon. Very après-ski.

This playlist is fifteen hours long and I’ve been putting it on shuffle and letting it run all day, all week.

It has been the better part of a decade since I was sufficiently dialed into new stuff that I could make convincing lists of the best movies of the year, the best television shows, and so forth. Instead, here’s a list of what made my year good, some of it new, some of it old.

Ripley on Netflix: It wouldn’t be possible to outdo Anthony Minghella’s jazzy, sumptuous, sun-soaked 1999 version of Patricia Highsmith’s novel, so Steven Zaillian completely reimagined every single character, the mood, the look, the music, the themes. Nonetheless, it’s somehow still Highsmith’s story. One of the decade’s great triumphs of adaptation.

Merely & Malibu’s Essential Mixtape: The pretensions of ambient music are softened by the goofiness of new age in this absolutely beautiful snooze fest.

Trust by Domenico Starnone: I was hooked after I heard the premise: boyfriend and girlfriend don’t want to get married, but they do want to be deeply indebted to one another, so they tell one another about the absolute worst thing they’ve ever done. Then break up a few days later.

Easy Does It by Julie London: For the first time in five years, my top Wrapped artist wasn’t Harold Budd, but Julie London. This 1968 record has a blue, gin-soaked tone that typifies my favorite Julie London recordings.

Black Magenta by D.S. & Durga: The only 2024 release I picked up this year: “City at night in bold colorful fumes—pineapple glow, magenta dianthus, iris twilight, tobacco, and black amber. Pair with loud music.”

Laughter in the Dark by Vladimir Nabokov: I picked this up at the Mall of America while marooned in Minneapolis after the Delta Meltdown last summer. This is Nabokov’s most readable book, and his most horrifying.

The Princess on HBO: While I’m an unapologetic Lady Di fan, this 2022 documentary is so elegantly assembled, it might win over a few who are generally indifferent to celebrities.

Good Pop, Bad Pop by Jarvis Cocker: I’ve loved Pulp since I was sixteen. This memoir from Jarvis Cocker was delightful, humane, and I was regularly surprised by how much of his childhood seemed like my own.

A Handful of Dust by Evelyn Waugh: I love a novel that ends very, very, very, very far from what you’re initially expecting.

Baby Reindeer on Netflix: I got Magnolia vibes.

Adarra in Richmond, Virginia: Richmond’s best restaurant, which I only discovered four months before moving. Of the three times I ate there, nothing was less than perfect.

“With the terrible place we’re at historically and with climate change and all that, I don’t know, do you really think it’s ethical to bring another cat into the world?”

“Say It Right” is the latest episode of “In the Trenches,” and this time we’re talking about classical Christian cliches: what they are, where they come from, how they take over, why they make us weak, and what to do about it.

It’s inevitable that a strong movement or institution will create cliches. In this episode, I argue that cliches are basically “intellectual repetitive motion injuries,” they emerge apart from our best intentions, but that once we realize we’ve created cliches, we must work to repair the damage they cause. I would love for flourish, thrive, and wonder to become potent terms again–but we have got to put a moratorium on those terms for a few years.

Listen to the latest episode of “In the Trenches” here.