Monthly Archives: January 2013

“Hey, uh… wanna come see my dice collection?”*


The past couple days has allowed it to fully sink in: I officially qualify as a geek.  Not that I didn’t know this, already, since I write lengthy analyses of TV shows for fun, but still.  My proof is as follows:

I see this

and this gets stuck in my head:

I hear this:

And sing this instead, until the original goes way longer:

My dorm advertises a “Board Game Night.”  Instead of these:

I think of these:

And, the one which has been getting me for the past few days, time and time again… when I hear this

I sing this:


*…and yes, I do have a dice collection.


Spotted at the National Basilica…


More strange Jesus art.  Bear in mind, the gift shop here is a polarizing mixture of kitsch and class, with objects from each category often sharing shelf space.  You’ll find stuff that is either really really cool or really really odd.  And so I give you… Soul-Patch Jesus Pieta.


“How do you expect me to follow THAT?”


(This is a simul-post with Ignitum Today)

At daily Mass on Friday, the priest made a reference to this article in the Wall Street Journal.  The idea was that modern fiction is not, in fact, faithless, but contains faith in but a whisper–as opposed to the literary giants of the 20th Century whose faith was quite prominent: figures like G. K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc, like the Inklings, the literary circle of J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, or like the poet Roy Campbell and the novelist Evelyn Waugh.

The Inklings

This sort of a lull in strong Catholic writers hearkened back to something which we both said and heard while playing a new game we got for Christmas: Uncle Chestnut’s Table Gype.  Each of us has a copy, so we are hoping to share the joy of the game with others.  However, one of the special things about this game is that pieces can jump other pieces, Chinese-Checkers-style.  And when one player gets a phenomenally good series of jumps (often landing in the other home row), the next player whose turn it is hangs her head in her hands and goes, “How on EARTH do you expect me to follow THAT up?”  After a series of smaller, subtler moves, she may end up with a monumental jump, prompting the cycle to repeat again.

Such is the way of the world in the literary field now, it seems.  Greats such as G.K. Chesterton (whose writings about Table Gype are actually the basis of the game), J.R.R. Tolkien, and Flannery O’Connor have just gone before us.  We have hung our head in our hands and asked how we are supposed to follow that up.  And we are quietly moving our pieces around, setting the board for a most phenomenal move.

Everyone’s a hero in their own way… or a banshee.


Most of you probably know Quill and me from our posts on Ignitum Today.  Very few might still remember me from my days at Cleansing Fire, a site from which I have all but completely retired.  This is not going to be a plug for myself; I’m just listing my qualifications for what I’m about to write.

I’ve noticed a trend in what sparks the lurking banshees hiding in the shadows of the Catholic blogosphere to come out of hiding.  For the most part, it’s controversy.  And according to the audience at hand, different topics create different levels of controversy.  Something which never fails to cause a big stink, however, tends to be the finer points of such things as the liturgy.  Postures, gestures, liturgical vestments, licit and illicit things… the list goes on.  It is easy to nitpick rubrics and other such things, but honestly: to the degree this occurs, it is monumentally disappointing.

My proof:

Article on contraception – 9 replies as of this post. (often there are 2 pingbacks, which count as replies, so this means only 2 comments.)

Article on chastity – 15 replies.

Article on Catholic marriages disappearing (!!!) – 19 replies.

Article on the Church helping young families – 14 replies.

Article on five signs in the liturgy we often miss or don’t do – 136 replies and counting.

Personally, I side with Fr. Z on this matter: say the black, do the red, follow the rubrics and do Mass as it should be because the Mass is written to glorify God present in the Eucharist in the most beautiful way possible: like the angels in Revelation.  Nonetheless, is something like that really worth almost 100 replies?  I started reading them the other day, just to gauge the responses.  There is a LOT of argument (for and against, with people stepping up on both sides to jump into the fray), some thanking for the information (I’d be on that side if I piped in), and some calm discussion.

Maybe it’s time for these lurkers to either be more active all over the site or risk turning satire into reality.