Those of you who have known me in what passes for real life would no doubt be astonished to see me promoting a rhythm and blues concert in aid of African mothers with AIDS and their children, but that is just what I found myself doing not long ago, for reasons which will be clear, or at least clearer, when you follow the link I am about to give you.

The essay which appears today traces the pilgrimage of a right wing nutcase (as he has been called) from a small college in Indiana to New York's East Village (just visiting), or at least the Upper West Side, and gives some hints about Who Makes the Pope's Strudel and What it Means for the World.

http://www.takimag.com/site/article/pope_benedicts_secret_teacher/

Please enjoy, and feel free to leave a comment.

A healthy, prosperous, happy, and blessed (secular) new year to all who keep to the Gregorian reckoning, and of course a merry Christmas to those who favor the Julian.

Frank

We seem to be done with Santa Claus for the year, with Rudolph and Frosty and the whole demented and tiresome crew, who began to appear in shop windows around the middle of October. Of course the Christmas season, which only began yesterday, will be with us until what those pesky secular humanists brazenly call Groundhog Day, indeed, almost until Mardi Gras. And let that be my excuse for not sending my greetings out until now.

My wish for you, and for all my indulgent readers, has been published to the world as the conclusion to some reflections inspired by the late Mr. Emerson, to which I hereby direct your kindly attention, and invite your (equally kindly) comments.

I rather hope that my love and admiration for old Waldo will not unduly upset those of you who are attached to historical Christianity, and that my own admitted attachment to what can only be called Orthodoxy (or at least orthodoxy) will not distress the other friends and admirers of one who is no doubt posthumously proud to be known as America's great heretic.

Here is the link:
http://www.takimag.com/site/article/ralph_waldo_and_the_word/

And all the best to you and yours for the coming year.

A college friend bids fond farewell to love of country, and I reflect that the love she left behind is not the one I was raised with. If I felt that I must write again about a professional philosopher, at least it was about an unusually charming one, and perhaps I have had the virtue of not writing in an entirely professional way, so read it regardless. In any case, here is the link. Please drop by and, as always, feel free to leave a comment if you like.

http://www.takimag.com/site/article/real_patriots_dont_hate/

Do come along with me to the old neighborhood, and leave a comment if you feel inclined.

And perhaps some lines of sort of verse next time.

Don't take any wooden Indians.

Because 31 OCT = 25 DEC.

And 34 years ago tonight my then roommate and I were invited to dinner here with a truly vile academic, one who sought (vainly, I am glad to note) to advance her career by destroying that of the woman I subsequently married, whose apartment this was. It was some five years later I moved in.

During our time in the neighborhood the All State Cafe was our refuge. Until last Tuesday into early, very early Wednesday. The auction was Monday, and Srsti, the bar's mascot since long before she was born, scored a couple of tables and some chairs, which we (mostly she) managed to get through the book-infested hallway and into the kitchen yesterday.

And now the place feels a little more like home. Though I don't think we will be organized to feed the hungry ghosts. Indeed, I should like to take myself off to Djinn night at Je'Bon on St. Marks Place, without benefit of costume, though I might descend to the basement and dig up a mask.

Unless the Professor needs me at home for moral support. Today will be a landmark in her fight for the promotion she earned many years ago, but was denied, because she is neither white nor black in a Hispanic college where color is prized, and because she is openly heterosexual and, despite the dot of lipstick on her forehead, a practicing Catholic, though lately a rather Byzantine one.

All State Days

When my daughter came in some time before dawn I knew that the All State Cafe, part of her life since before she was born, and part of mine for more than half my tenure on this planet, was gone forever.( Read more... )
(First Installment)

From:

freder1ck
Sorry, I only now got the opportunity to play.

Here's my question: why Marsilio Ficino, but no Pico della Mirandolla? Henri de Lubac has a nifty article on Pico in his book, Theology in History.

I must admit I haven't read much of Lubac, if any. In fact I haven't even tackled Balthasar's major writings, much as I admire what I know of him.

Ficino's Letters have inspired me in good times, and helped me get through bad times. You perhaps know the one on Divine Frenzy:

It is thus that the heavenly spheres are set in motion and governed by Jove, the spirit and mind of the whole universe, and that from him also arise the musical songs of these spheres, which are called the Muses. As that illustrious Platonist says, ‘Jove is the origin of the Muses; all things are full of Jove, and that spirit which is called Jove is everywhere; he enlivens and fulfils all things.’ And as Alexander Milesius, the Pythagorean, says, ‘touching the heavens as though they were a lyre, he creates this celestial harmony.’ The divine prophet Orpheus says, ‘Jove is first, Jove is last, Jove is the head, Jove is the centre. The universe is born of Jove, Jove is the foundation of the earth and of the star-bearing heavens. Jove appears as man, yet he is the spotless bride. Jove is the breath and form of all things (spiritus omnium), Jove is the source of the ocean, Jove is the movement in the undying fire, Jove is the sun and moon, Jove, the King and Prince of all. Hiding his light, he has shed it afresh from his blissful heart, manifesting his purpose.’ We may understand from this that all bodies are full of Jove; he contains and nourishes them, so that truly it is said that whatever you see and wherever you move is Jove.

From:

seraphimsigrist
seven is a lot but perhaps one?
abandoned buildings is there
a particular abandoned building that
comes to memory when you thing of these?

This is embarassing. I was about to write about how the abandoned record factory down by the tracks at the foot of the gorge in my college town is now a museum dedicated to the pioneers of recorded jazz, but when I went to the site of the foundation, I discovered that the record factory is in fact on the other side of the river, so the place I walked around in the middle of the night my freshman year (different times!) must have been something else, and may have been torn down since. But I will give you a link to the foundation anyway, as it seems to be worth visiting, and to have some rare old pressings remastered for CD:
http://www.starrgennett.org/

From:

kubilai9
ok. i'll do it. but i'm only picking a few highlights ...
Chartreuse?

When I was a kid, that was the color of the chairs in the living room. As for today, well, just take a sip and you will see!
http://www.chartreuse.fr/
Of course the monks who make this were the subject of a wonderful film, The Great Silence.

Western mystery tradition?
Ah yes, I see. Might be something like Gene Autry, Singing Cowboy Detective. (Didn't he cut his first record in Richmond, IN?) But no, I had things like Kaballah, alchemy, ceremonial magic, maybe even astrology in mind. But this is a topic, or these are topics, so weighty I may have to return to them later.

Melkite Catholics?
Well, I am a Russian Catholic. The first (or second, if philosopher and mystic Vladimir Soloviev was the first) Russian Catholic in our sense of the term was a Father Tolstoy, an Orthodox priest who wanted to convert to Roman Catholicism but was refused on the grounds that he had a perfectly good tradition as it was. The Pope (Leo XIII?, St. Pius X?) told him that he could be a Byzantine priest in communion with the Holy See under the Melkite Patriarchate of Antioch, an Orthodox body which united with Rome in 1725, I think, but was persecuted by the Ottoman Empire, which imposed an Orthodox hierarchy ruled by Constantinople. My present pastor is a Melkite priest, married, with children, retired from the NYC Board of Education. See http://www.melkite.org/

(Tolstoy was a follower of Soloviev, and Soloviev received communion from him after his change of jurisdiction, which is why some Orthodox consider Soloviev an apostate and heretic, and others insist that he must have "repented" before the end.)

Because I'm tired and cranky.

If it amuses you, pick seven interests from my interest list and ask me about them, and, if you like, post this suggestion on your own journal.

Warning: I haven't even looked at my interests for ages and ages. I wonder what's there. Pickled wombats, perhaps? Quantitative metatheses? WOR radio personalities of the 1950s? Coptic Orthodox Heavy Metal?

Not very long ago I walked into my bedroom and found The Art and Science of Love at the foot of the bed. I dwell in a typical Manhattan apartment, where any book may turn up anywhere without notice. It happens. I didn’t actually recall buying this particular old paperback, but that happens too. Maybe it was a message...

I checked the web site to see whether Sex, Politics, and Gnosticism had been posted for tomorrow, and saw that something else had been. I went to the page which lists links to my archived articles to see if the link to it was still up, and it is, though it doesn't go anywhere, and there is another one for the articla after that, Theosis in White Harlem, which of course doesn't go anywhere either. At least my editor has gotten around to reading it. And he has assigned me more chapters for that other thing he has me working on.

Meanwhile, I have created a group on Faceboon for the All State Cafe of Mister Goodbar fame, which may or may not be closing. If you know the place, give it a click. I think you can see the page even if you aren't a Facebook member, though in that case you can't join. And, of course, if you are a member, please consider connecting with me. Let's see, where's that code for my thingy? Ah, here:

Good night, all!

f

As a fifth grader put it my first week of teaching (not counting college and university).

Well for one thing, I am noodling away in my paper journal, thanks to one of my friends here, not

kesil, it seems, who mentioned Noodler's ink the other day. Last night, ordering Chinese at Ollie's, I circled three items on the takeout menu, and ran it under the hot water when I got home. And yes, these colors don't run. This black, at least. I well remember the day my wallet got so wet in the rain that a phone number on a slip of paper ran away. And when I'm in a mood for something a bit brighter I'll take the one, two or three train down to City Hall and the place under the mosque, which has the full line.

I am writing at something digging up some stuff from my past, from the end of eighth grade, when I was denied the education appropriate to my tested intelligence on the basis of racial profiling. My wife, passing the computer, saw certain words and phrases, and came down hard that I have to be very careful not to offend certain people. It is about, or at least takes off from, holocaust denial. The Armenian holocaust. Not that I'm Armenian. Just a wannabee. Such a pretty script. (I am also partial to the Aramaic and Bengali. Maybe even Tibetan and Mongolian. Not that I can read anything in any of these. Yet? At my age, who am I kidding? But you never know.)

I know I haven't had much to say lately apart from posting links to my Taki rants -- the next one will be on Albert Ellis, Robert Anton Wilson, and Richard Weaver (!!!) -- but I do have a life outside the worlds of politics, ideology, philosophy, and religion, though you might not know it. I was going to send this link to my friends in Colorado Springs, but the MySpace function that does that is broken, so I shall post it here for all to see, as even non-Coloradans might find it of interest, including, of course one of my friends list who appears on it. The URL itself says it all, as of course a good URL should:

http://www.myspace.com/gothicbellydancedvd

Six years ago today (tomorrow as I write), some time around ten in the morning, I sent many of you an email to reassure you that I was all right. By the end of the week I followed this up with a longer account of my adventures that Tuesday, such as they were, and my subsequent reflections. A friend subsequently circulated these to the readership of a local newsletter, and they were the basis of a page on my old arisbe.net site. That site is gone now, and I am taking my time to build another.

Much has happened since September 11, 2001, and I have taken the occasion of this anniversary to revisit my memories and revise my reflections from another perspective. It was not easy to do so, and I feel I must apologize for any roughness in expression.

I must again thank Taki for giving me the opportunity to share this with you : Adrift Among the Dead. (The title is not mine, but it is probably an improvement.)

Until the next time,
Frank

Cathedral Fire-Bombed

Priest's Family Homeless

Islamic Terrorism Suspected

My latest on Taki. Above is the headline I would have preferred, but you can't always get what you want, and I am happy to be published at all. I have submitted the final revision of the 9/11 story, and I will be glad to have other things to think about. Would be glad, I suppose. I will be happy when it is Wednesday. There is something about the date and the day of the week lining up again that makes this year sadder.

I am very tired now. Must eat something and try to sleep.

"Theosis in White Harlem" is in the hands of the editor; when (if?) it goes up I'll link to it here. As I mentioned the other day, something about a church fire in Queens has been approved (don't worry, +S, I was vague about the details) and something about Albert Ellis and Robert Anton Wilson -- and Richard Weaver -- is (still) under evaluation.

elementalmuse and her betrothed should be between a third and a half of the way back to Colorado after a visit of a night and a day, which was little more than half the time it took them to get here. Their car is lighter by the weight of her son and his things who and which are now inhabiting a dorm room where Luchows used to be. I hope to hear of their safe return, and to get a review of the beer garden I favor. I trust that next time we will meet in person.

I must admit to being a bit bewildered by some of the response to my essay on Russell Kirk. Not that some folks call him a racist, but that they think that's a good thing, and that I am some kind of nasty neocon for setting the record straight. He liked Lincoln, too, remaining on the far side of the pons asinorum dividing the neos from the paleos. Odd sort of site, Taki's. Good piece today on the neue Atheismusstreit.

Anyone care to join me on Facebook? The box at the top should do it.

Cheers

f

My brief essay on the Sage of Piety Hill has somehow provoked even more discussion than my reflections on Nixon and Kent State, though so far no claims that I am a pampered Quaker who needs to be stomped into submission. I invite you to read it here.

As always I welcome your comments.

You may already have received this notification by email. If you didn't but you would like to get similar news, subscribe to my list.

Meanwhile, Taki's editors have one more scheduled to go in soon and another under review. I have a third completed but for the hypertext references, and a few more under construction. I should probably revise my 9/11 piece and get it to them in time for the anniversary first, though I find it rough going even after six years.

Wish I were going to Burning Man, though that would have been a bit of a challenge at the best of times.

Cheers!

Frank

Call it Monday night still, if you like. So it is in most of the country.

Even better than If you're so smart, why aren't you rich, is If your dissertation is such a contribution to knowledge, why isn't it published? My advisor got me the .pdf from the library at Columbia, and I extracted text files and stare at them from time to time, though not for a while, I admit. Yeah, it's good, I'm impressed. But a lot of it just doesn't sound very today. Of course back then it didn't sound very back then, which is why some folks, the outside reader, I mean, a vile creature, hated it. Oh well.

What inspires this reflection? I Googled my undergraduate mentor and saw that his Th.D. dissertation has been published. In Denmark, which makes sense:
http://www.sk.ku.dk/Goldenagestudies/volume_2.html

I remember the day Bob defended it. He had flown to New York, and, as it turned out, the defense took place in a professor's apartment, as Columbia was shut down by student protests. So, back in his native city (not really, according to the technicalities of municipal incorporation) we held the Philosophy Tea without him in the Meetinghouse library. Our guest was Carl Ogelsby, a New Left figure I, on the Old Right, found sympathetic, and when someone asked about what intellectual roots he acknowledged, rather than mention Marcuse or Brown he waxed eloquent about Alan Heimert's study of the role of Evangelical Christianity in the American Revolution.

You can't tell the players without a scorecard, as the vendors at the ballpark used to say.

Meanwhile, I now have the opportunity to acquire the definitive study of Danish Behmenist H.L. Martensen, against whose Christendom Kierkegaard famously protested. (Hegel had little to do with it.) Now, if only Bob would publish his archaeological reflections on the dramatic date of Plato's Republic.

Can I sleep now, I wonder, or will I have to dig out some leftovers?

And I missed Howard's birthday. Which was also Ron Paul's.

So thirty years ago today I am for some reason sitting in a chiropractor's waiting room with my future father in law when the radio says something about the death of Elvis. When I ask idly about details somebody says something about a heart attack while f*cking a sheep. Somehow I now remember this as his pet goat, the memory no doubt drawn into the orbit of POTUS.

My Russell Kirk article is in the hands of the editor, with no response. I really would like a reaction -- I am taking risks with this stuff, writing about serious matters in a nonacademic way for a generation (or two) who just weren't there then. I started something about Richard Weaver, which turned out to be more about the deaths of Albert Ellis and Robert Anton Wilson, and my wife can't make head or tale of it. Tail. Whatever.

Need to add a para to Theosis in White Harlem, but want to ask one of the subjects whether he's OK about my mentioning some personal details about his background.

Should maybe finish Confessions of a Working Class Catholic Intellectual...

Meanwhile some people still have too much time on their hands. The other night I downloaded a four hundred page grammar of Modern Indo-European written by a bunch of linguists in Spain who want the European Union to use it as an alternative to English as a common language. I am not making this up, people. You can't make this stuff us. Neo-proto-indo-european. Right. (Whatever happened to Interlingua?)
http://indo-european.eu/wiki/index.php/Main_Page

Since this is not Tuesday, you are spared the story of the Eight Hundred Martyrs of Otranto, which I got a day too late to be timely with it. Lucky you. Here's the link anyway:
http://chiesa.espresso.repubblica.it/dettaglio.jsp?id=161401&eng=y

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arisbe

Recent Entries

Of Popes and Paleocons

My Christmas Wish for You

What is this thing called patriotism?

An Evening Uptown

Geek Christmas

End of an Era

All State Days

Why Ficino is on my interest list

My Interests Questioned

Meme me

Sex, Politics, and Gnosticism

Web stuff

Whassup, suckah?

And now for something completely different...

http://www.myspace.com/gothicbellydancedvd

My Multiple Intelligences

Adrift Among the Dead

(no subject)

Cathedral Fire-Bombed

Priest's Family Homeless

Islamic Terrorism Suspected

Tired

The Pragmatic Dr. Kirk

Tuesday

Thursday Morning