That which is filthy can be washed, and made clean, and redeemed. But that which is filth itself cannot be made clean: for if it is washed, all of it will be removed and nothing remain. It is fit only to be cast into the midden, or consumed by fire.
On a lighter note…
16 March 2015 by 1 Comment
From 1968, George Coe does Ingmar Bergman, and only one of them comes out alive.
If you watch closely, you’ll see Madeline Kahn in her first film role. If you listen closely, you’ll hear the Swedish language dying of embarrassment, eight years before the Muppets disinterred the corpse for their own nefarious purposes.
‘After the real world has passed away’
15 March 2015 by 8 Comments
After the death of his wife, Edith, J. R. R. Tolkien wrote to his son Michael:
I do not feel quite ‘real’ or whole, and in a sense there is no one to talk to.… Since I came of age, and our 3 years separation was ended, we had shared all joys and griefs, and all opinions (in agreement or otherwise), so that I still often find myself thinking ‘I must tell E. about this’ – and then suddenly I feel like a castaway left on a barren island under a heedless sky after the loss of a great ship. I remember trying to tell Marjorie Incledon this feeling, when I was not yet thirteen after the death of my mother, and vainly waving a hand at the sky saying ‘it is so empty and cold’. And again I remember after the death of Fr Francis my ‘second father’ (at 77 in 1934), saying to C. S. Lewis: ‘I feel like a lost survivor into a new alien world after the real world has passed away’.
(Letters no. 332)
I am sad to report that these descriptions of feelings fit me rather exactly. My mother was a difficult person to deal with, and nearly impossible to talk to; she had the fixed habit of listening to the first half-dozen words that you said, ignoring the rest, and then responding to what she imagined you might have said; and she had a short and fearsome temper. Our relationship could be charitably described as ‘fraught’; yet one has, as a rule, only one mother, and whatever she may be, one feels the loss when she is gone. My father was my chief friend, supporter, and confidant for many years, and I still miss him terribly. Now that I have lost them both, and in rapid succession, I feel rather like the little girl from London in the Second World War, who was interviewed by a reporter after losing her home and family in the Blitz: ‘Now I am nobody’s nothing.’ It is a disorienting and indeed frightening feeling.
A postscriptum about practical matters: It will probably take some months to settle my parents’ affairs, but once that is done I can expect to come into a small inheritance, which if used frugally, will keep the wolf from the door for some time while I get my bearings and (I hope) find a way to make my work pay my bills. I thank all those generous donors who have helped me through my recent difficulties with gifts of money (and still more, of time, attention, and care). I believe I shall be all right for the time being.
Maria Auxiliadora Shearer, 1927–2015
15 March 2015 by 11 Comments
I am sad to report that my mother died about 4 p.m. (MDT) yesterday. I managed to pay her a short visit before the end; she was drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to speak, and I am not sure whether she recognized me. She seemed to have suffered a stroke or some other cerebral catastrophe, for all the muscle tone had gone out of her face, and her lower lip had curved back in on itself to cover her gums. Her face was unrecognizable; it was the characteristic pattern of the arthritis in her right hand (the left was under the bedclothes) that proved to me that I was in the right room.
She had been married to my father for 52 years, and had no desire to outlive him; and indeed she took such poor care of herself (being a fairly heavy smoker and drinker for as long as I can remember, and disdaining to eat regular meals) that we were surprised she lived as long as she did. Once my father was gone, she went into what soon proved to be a terminal decline. At any rate she is at peace now, for the first time in many years; God rest her soul.
Thanks very much for all the prayers and messages from my 3.6 Loyal Readers and other friends.
The other shoe drops
13 March 2015 by 12 Comments
I have just been notified that my mother has received Extreme Unction and is expected to die at any time. A family friend is picking me up shortly to go and see her.
I will be grateful for the prayers of my 3.6 Loyal Readers.
Reading the Great Books
2 March 2015 by 2 Comments
A new group has been formed on Goodreads, with the intention of reading and discussing as many as possible of the Great Books, as identified in the curriculum of St. John’s College, Annapolis, Md. Our reading for March is the first half of the Iliad, and if anybody wants to join us, I believe it is not too late to do so. You can find out as much as you need to know by visiting the group’s home page:
When fusion bombs
25 February 2015 by 8 Comments
I have just returned from my G.P. pro tem, with news from my various tests and things. My cholesterol is high and my thyroid is low, both of which are treatable with common sense and a bit of Synthroid. My neck troubles are more serious: in fact, probably incurable. It seems that somehow two of my cervical vertebrae have fused together, probably by the improper healing of a slight fracture sustained when I fell down the stairs a couple of years ago. So I can expect my limited range of neck movement, and my recurring pains, to go on for the rest of my days; unless someone comes up with a treatment for cracking the bones apart and rebuilding the joint between (without damaging the spinal cord in the process).
No Sir, no Ma’am, spinal fusion is not what the kids till recently called ‘the bomb’; especially when done, not by a surgeon, but by a flight of ice-covered concrete stairs. At least I shall be able to bore people, when all other boring topics fail, with boring stories about my broken neck.
Huzzahs and bemusements
24 February 2015 by 4 Comments
I must say, that fellow John C. Wright knows how to throw a party. He has just finished the fair draft of his latest book, The Vindication of Man, and this is how he announces the blessed event:
Unlimber the big guns, ring the church bells, release the kraken, remit all executions, free the gladiators, gather the greenskinned Orion dancing girls, decree a clone parade of endless twins, and have the Death Star blow up the peaceful and unarmed planet Alderaan in joyful celebration! Two firkins of water shall be distributed to every Fremen!
In other news:
Earlier today, I received from CreateSpace my printed copy of Sci Phi Journal #2, in which Yr. Obt. Svt. has the honour to be published. It makes a lovely product on paper, with a single caveat: Somewhere in the production process, an extra blank page got added at the beginning, so that all the odd-numbered pages are on the left and even numbers on the right. I am hoping this oversight will be corrected for future printings (if that is the cromulent word for the single-copy print runs of print-on-demand books).
On her Superversive blog, L. Jagi Lamplighter conducts an excellent interview with my Honourable Number One Boss, the publisher/editor of Abyss & Apex, Wendy S. Delmater.
And over on the SuperversiveSF site (my, how that word is getting around!), Jason Rennie (who is also the publisher/editor of Sci Phi Journal) takes a well-aimed shot at the racist and sexist claptrap of K. Tempest Bradford. Yr. obt. svt. is mentioned therein, to his nearly infinite surprise.
On a personal note, tomorrow I am due to see my G.P. for the results of the tests, pictures, pokings, proddings, and siphonings that have been performed on me over the past couple of weeks, in the interest of diagnosing more accurately what is wrong with me and why I cannot concentrate well enough to get any damned work done. My apologies to those among my 3.6 Loyal Readers who have been expecting blog posts and/or fiction from me.
Shooting blanks
22 February 2015 by Leave a Comment
A champion of reason uses fact, and the logical deductions from facts, as the basis for his beliefs. He does not use falsehood. Why bother? No man shoots blanks at a foe when he has bullets.
Distinguo: There are two kinds of men who may shoot blanks when they have bullets. One is the man who is so ignorant of firearms that he cannot tell the difference, and loads his gun with both indiscriminately. The other is the man who is such a bad shot that he knows he cannot hit anything, and only wants to make a lot of noise.
I note, however, that extending the analogy in this way does not make it any more flattering to the liar who pretends to be a champion of reason.
‘The War of Ignorance versus Faith’
21 February 2015 by 9 Comments
Yet another ignoramus announces his belief, founded upon nothing but prejudice and public education (but I repeat myself), that the Catholic Church is the mortal enemy of science; and John C. Wright boils over with justified dudgeon. In his response, he lists well over 200 Catholic scientists, and not merely Catholics, but Catholic clergymen every one, new and old, living and dead, who have made important (dare I say cardinal?) contributions to the sciences, from José de Acosta to Giovanni Battista Zupi. (I confess my own ignorance: I myself had never heard of quite half of these persons.)
Hmph. I just came across another antieducated sophophobe who declared there to be a war between science and faith, especially the Roman Catholic Church.
I asked him to name the Papal Bull or Encyclical, or any other official document of the Church prohibiting or condemning the practice of scientific inquiry. He did not know what a ‘bull’ was.
I asked him if he knew anything about science and the history of science, and he said yes. I asked him for the evidence of any Catholic interference, or even lack of enthusiastic support, for any scientific inquiry of any kind, in any time or place?
He mentioned Galileo. I asked him if he knew the circumstances of Galileo’s trial, or what Galileo was accused of? He said no. I asked him if he knew who Cardinal Bellarmine was. He said no.
I asked him if he had read Dialogues Concerning Two New Sciences? He did not even know what the book was, much less who the characters in it were, or what positions in the contemporary debates they represented.…
Calibrating my questions to the level of someone without a Saint John’s College level of education, I asked him if he knew who Albertus Magnus, William of Ockham, Roger Bacon, Nicholas Steno were. He said no.
I asked him who invented the mechanical escapement used in clockwork. Or when. He did not know what mechanical escapement was. (Villard de Honnecourt circa 1237, in case you are wondering.)
Recalibrating my question to the high school level, I asked him if he knew who Pascal was, Copernicus, Descartes. He said no. Mendel. No. Still no.
He then told me that all the European inventions in mathematics and medicine came from the Muslim world. I asked him if he knew where Andalusia was, or when the Reconquista happened. Did not recognize those terms. I asked him what religion the people were in the lands conquered by the Muslims in the Seven, Eighth, and Ninth Centuries, et cetera? He guessed that they were some sort of pagans.
I did not bother to ask him if he knew who Abu Hamid al-Ghazali was.
He did not even know enough to raise and throw into my face the old, tired, and oft-refuted slander about Hypatia the neoplatonic philosopher (always described as a female scientist) being flayed to death by a Christian mob wielding sharpened clamshells.
In other words, I could have argued in favor of the War between Science and the Church better than he. He had not even memorized his side’s own talking points.
He was a disgrace to the forces of evil.
Go and read the whole thing; or better yet, bookmark it for permanent reference. Links are included to information about nearly every scientist in the list. (At the moment, there is no link for Fr. Benito Viñes, who does not have his own page on Wikipedia, though he is mentioned in other articles there. Fr. Viñes was a Jesuit priest who invented the first system for forecasting hurricanes.)
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