Godsbody

Parting shot.

2010-04-20T11:07:00.000-07:00

I am holding a bottle of tequila shaped like a rifle. Your argument is invalid.

The Lansing Seminarian has an announcement to make.

2010-04-19T12:36:00.000-07:00

I wrote a story!

2010-04-19T07:04:00.000-07:00

When Miles the wannabe novelist sets out for his winey holiday in Sideways — the film that did for California Pinot Noir what E.T. did for Reese’s Pieces (kids, ask your parents) — he sets out from right here in San Diego. Why? Well, Rex Pickett (the guy who wrote the novel that inspired the film) might tell you that it’s because the book is based on a true story, and the true story is that he did a lot of wine-drinking while house-sitting in Ocean Beach. But who you gonna believe? I’ll tell you the real reason why: the story started here because it all started here. The wine thing.

I think that's just about enough...

2010-04-14T09:30:00.000-07:00

...don't you?

See you in the funny papers!

Grace

2010-04-14T07:22:00.000-07:00

Me, to The Wife: "There really had better be some kind of supernatural aid in this life. Because naturally, I'm a depressive slacker wannabe artist. Who for some reason..."

The Wife: "...has six kids."

(Photo: Easter in the hometown church.)

Douthat!

2010-04-11T21:49:00.000-07:00

Civilization

2010-04-09T10:27:00.000-07:00

Another great exchange from An Education, one I won't spoil with context:

"This is lovely. All your books and pictures."

"They're just paperbacks and postcards."

"But that's all you need, isn't it?"

I should mention that the film is playing under the stars this evening here in San Diego.

Go to Lefty's next door for dinner, then take in a fine film in a delightful setting. And omigosh, just look at the rest of their schedule for this summer!

Second Daughter Channels Lady Gaga

2010-04-09T10:24:00.000-07:00

Decadence.

2010-04-08T09:12:00.000-07:00

An Education is the kind of film that makes me wish I was still reviewing films somewhere. Just a lot of things done very nicely indeed. One that came to me yesterday: Danny's fancy cello. He tells Jenny that he used to play, and back when he did, he always swore to himself that he'd have a cello of that sort. But now that he has the La Dolce Vita life he does - spoiler? - and can afford the cello of his dreams, he never plays any more. And he rightly calls himself for keeping the thing on display. It's vulgar and fetishistic. Or else ironic and self-deprecating. Either way, he is shamed by Jenny's sincere delight - a sign that his conscience isn't dead, merely numbed in a few places.

All that in one brief exchange. Delightful.

'Nuff said.

2010-04-06T22:12:00.000-07:00

Sandra Bullock and the largest bottle of vodka ever produced, The Tasting Panel magazine, April 2010.

Oh, sure.

2010-04-05T08:19:00.000-07:00

As long as your story is about a human-turned-monster instead of a monster-who's-human, then we can make a movie...

/self-pity.

Easter.

2010-04-04T15:00:00.000-07:00

Exchange.

2010-04-03T09:53:00.000-07:00

Me, 11:20 p.m. on Good Friday: I could use a drink, but the fast is on.

The Wife: You could wait 40 minutes.

Me: But I'm pretty tired.

The Wife: Me too.

Me: I'll just wait and have a drink when I get up, then.

The Wife: Sounds good.

One.

2010-04-03T09:27:00.001-07:00

The Harrowing of Hell

2010-04-03T08:02:00.000-07:00

Teachout!

2010-04-02T09:44:00.000-07:00

Reviewing T.S. Eliot's The Cocktail Party for the WSJ, he delivers an opening that should thrill any artist who attempts any work that includes the exceedingly common yet somehow exotic human trait of religiosity:

"If you're willing to suspend religious disbelief and give Old Possum a chance to do his stuff, then I suspect you'll be transfixed by the stealthy skill with which he goes about the challenging task of making sainthood comprehensible to a secular audience"

"If you're willing to suspend religious disbelief." Fabulous.

Lenten Songbook

2010-04-02T09:36:00.000-07:00

Innocence Mission, "Every Hour Here"

Yeah, sappy. Sue me. G gave me the album back in college, probably because he knew I liked Cocteau Twins.

I like the line:

I wave up to you on the cross
Am I to come upon you suddenly like this forever?

Happy Good Friday!

Aphorism

2010-04-01T09:57:00.001-07:00

One of the most profound measures of a man is how he treats those whose views or behavior he finds abhorrent.

Progress.

2010-03-31T21:34:00.000-07:00

First Son: "Well Dad, you were right. Alvin & The Chipmunks: The Squeakquel was crap."

Dad: "Thank you, son."

I mean, it's not quite on a par with his comment after seeing the new Alice in Wonderland: "I mean, the world of Alice in Wonderland is really topsy-turvy, and they tried to impose this really dramatic narrative over it, and to do that right takes incredible balance. And they just didn't have it."

But I'll take it.

Wow.

2010-03-31T12:35:00.000-07:00

"But, in fact, McDonough was sacked because of his refusal to do some heated love scenes with babelicious star (and Botox pitchwoman) Virginia Madsen. The reason? He's a family man and a Catholic, and he's always made it clear that he won't do sex scenes. And ABC knew that."

Today in Porn, Katy Perry Edition

2010-03-31T10:27:00.000-07:00

"Hi! I'm pop star Katy Perry! You know: 'I Kissed A Girl,' 'Hot n Cold,' 'Waking up in Vegas'? Anyway, I was a presenter at the Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards the other night, and I got slimed! And I cannot believe that some people on the Internet were suggesting that wearing a stripper wig and a skin-tight vinyl dress while getting my face sprayed with goo was somehow sexually suggestive? I mean, this is a kid's show we're talking about!

I mean, if I wanted to do something sexually suggestive, it'd be more like this, you know? My career thus far hasn't exactly been built on subtlety."

Lesson: If you can't be a Catholic school-girl, a Pastor's Daughter may be the next best thing!

Wanna Be The Biggest Pop Star in the World? Go to Catholic School!

2010-03-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

“A couple times, she came to the studio in sweatpants, and I said, ‘Really, Stef?’ ” says Fusari. “ ‘What if I had Clive Davis in here today? I should call the session right now. Prince doesn’t pick up ice cream at the 7-Eleven looking like Chris Rock. You’re an artist now. You can’t turn this on and off.’ ”

The problem was that she didn’t know how to turn it on: Though she wanted to be a star, she didn’t have a clear idea of what a star was, or where the main currents in pop culture were flowing. It was at this point that she began her serious study. Gaga picked up a biography of Prince, started shopping at American Apparel, and became entranced by aughties New Age bible The Secret, according to friends. As a Catholic-school girl, she interpreted Fusari’s remarks as a signal to cut her skirts shorter and make them tighter, until one day they totally disappeared: All that was left were undies, sometimes with tights underneath.

You stay classy, San Diego.

2010-03-30T17:15:00.000-07:00

Garage window and cardboard, 2010. Gotta keep the draft off the chicks.

Benedictus

2010-03-30T10:28:00.001-07:00

My Magnificat includes the Mass readings for the day. Today's Gospel includes Christ's promise to Peter that Peter will deny Christ three times - a promise made in response to Peter's declaration that he will lay down his life for Christ. The book also includes this from Pope Benedict XVI: "We have grown accustomed to make a clear distinction between Peter the rock and Peter the denier of Christ - the denier of Christ: that is Peter as he was before Easter; the rock: that is Peter as he was after Pentecost, the Peter of whom we have constructed a singularly idealistic image. But, in reality, he was at both times both of these...Has it not been thus throughout the history of the Church that the Pope, the successor of Peter, has been at once Petra and Skandalon - both the rock of God and a stumbling-block? In fact, the faithful will always have to reckon with this paradox of divine dispensation that shames their pride again and again."

Fantastic?

2010-03-27T21:08:00.001-07:00

Oof. My man at the Reader nailed it:

"Though the droll result has its charms... it’s not so much for children as a group or adults as a group as it is specifically for devotees of Anderson."

As in, people who never get tired of father issues. (And I say this as someone who admired The Royal Tenenbaums.) Thanks, but I really didn't need a film to introduce my children to the idea that dads would rather be doing something else (i.e., besides being dads), if only their wives would stop asking them to make impossible promises (i.e., I will sacrifice my own interests for the sake of my family). Or the idea that dads really value sons only insofar as those sons are extensions/replications of themselves. Basically, the idea that dads do not really love their kids for the kids' own sakes, and that it screws sons up.

But, you say, Mr. Fox tells his son Ash that he was glad that Mrs. Fox had him. Yeah, and even my 12 year old saw through it. "It had no emotional affect," he said afterwards. Dad only got really excited when it turned out his son was an athlete, after all.

Happy Feast of the Annunciation!

2010-03-26T10:36:00.000-07:00

'Twas also, of course, The Wife's birthday. Above is the image of the Annunciation that First Daughter drew for her mother's birthday card. Especially sweet was the image of the newly conceived Christ in Mary's womb:

We had a party. People who were Not The Wife staffed the kitchen. Good times.

Found on my hard drive.

2010-03-25T10:31:00.000-07:00

I’ve been down this rhetorical road sweetie. I know all the arguments, all the counterarguments. And I know the stalemate where it always ends.

You haven’t been down it with me.

Tell me that’s not a hand.

Tell me that’s not a widow. Tell me that’s not a burned child.

The people have spoken.

2010-03-25T10:09:00.000-07:00

"No," said the people.

Travel story.

2010-03-23T11:01:00.000-07:00

Someday, I'd love to tell the whole story of my New Orleans trip. A sample of the goodness:

As we strolled away from two tiny houses that housed the Maple Leaf bookstore and its signed fourth-printings of John Kennedy Toole's Pulitzer-Prize winning novel, A Confederacy of Dunces, Father Samway launched into a story about Mrs. Toole, who had so famously imposed upon Walker Percy to read the manuscript written by her son. "Mrs. Toole used to have these signing parties." (This was after Toole's suicide, and Samway told another, less amusing story about that...) "She would wear her best pink chiffon, and she would always have a piano, and she would sing. She was an elocutionist. So she was having one of these parties at Maple Leaf, and Walker was sitting out in the courtyard, and at one point she stopped and said, 'Dr. Percy, you're not listening.' Then she addressed everyone there. 'As you know, Dr. Percy was instrumental in the discovery of my son, the genius' - she always referred to him that way, as if 'the genius' was the last part of his name. So then she said, 'I will now sing Dr. Percy's favorite song.' Walker was amazed. He turned to me and said, 'I can't wait to find out what my favorite song is.' And do you know what she sang? Zip-a-dee-doo-dah."

How utterly perfect. The man who wrote The Moviegoer, who laid a stethoscope on the sagging chest of the South and sought to untangle the symptoms of its systemic race troubles (and the the patient's attendant compensations), now being linked up with the theme song from a Disney movie, the one Disney movie that, thanks to its racial hamhandedness, has never been released on DVD. We really don't get to write our own epitaphs.

And speaking of epitaphs: when, the next morning, after Lauds in the St. Joseph's Abbey church and a stroll into the recesses of the Abbey cemetery, we found ourselves standing before Percy's leaf-strewn grave under a clean blue sky - well, how could we not follow Potter's inspired suggestion that we sing Dr. Percy's favorite song? 'Round and 'round we marched, the three of us, jazz-hands waving, voices ringing: "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay/ My oh my, what a wonderful day..." All the way through, and then down on one knee for the final note, like a short-staffed barbershop quartet. Silly, sure, but not, I think, unfitting. We were paying homage to a satirist, the man who gave us Father Kev Kevin at the Love Clinic, reading Commonweal as he sat at his console of vaginal indicators. Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, indeed.

And then there were three.

2010-03-23T10:57:00.001-07:00

A good deal in life, it seems to me of late, depends on paying attention to things glimpsed out of the corner of the eye, to things that seem a touch off or out of place, to things that trigger a momentary flutter in the gut. The things that one is tempted to gloss over. Silly, obvious case in point: yesterday, I noticed that the back gate to our yard was open. It's not like it's ever locked or anything, but neither is it ever used. Why was it open? More importantly, why didn't I shut it? If I had, I might have stymied whatever it was that came into our yard last night and slaughtered one of our chickens.

Happy Feast of St. Joseph!

2010-03-20T13:47:00.000-07:00

We had our Fourth Annual Lickona Family Gallery Fundraiser on behalf of Culture of Life Family Services last night. Good times.

Happy Feast of St. Patrick!

2010-03-18T08:09:00.000-07:00

Good times.

I wrote a story!

2010-03-17T10:20:00.001-07:00

November 21, 2009 — A gold-rimmed sea serpent undulates around a trident along the end of the narrow blue flag as it ripples in the morning breeze that blows across the gopher-pocked green of Lakeside’s El Monte Park, which spreads out below the brown face of El Cajon Mountain. And if that sentence sounds high-flown, well, there’s a reason why. The flag is only one of maybe a hundred ringing the field that will see today’s combat — armored, unarmored, and rapier — and the serpent is only one of four symbols on that flag, but it is the symbol of the Barony of Calafia. The barony covers San Diego and Imperial Counties, and today is its anniversary tournament. It’s an event grand enough to command the presence of King Patrick O’Malley and Queen Kara the Twin of Kelton, the reigning monarchs of the Kingdom of Caid, the sixth kingdom in the Society for Creative Anachronism, a region that encompasses southern California, southern Nevada, and Hawaii. (Yes, it helps that their majesties are locals, but still.)

Five.

2010-03-16T11:37:00.000-07:00

For reasons which Science has been either unable or unwilling to explain, Godsbody has now endured for five years. Ha!

Today in Porn, Terry Richardson Redux Edition

2010-03-16T10:47:00.000-07:00

Hey, remember this post? Well, The Awl has a link to an amazing follow-up. [Language alert very much in effect; this is not a pretty story.]

To recap. The original post contained this, er, money quote:

"Porn kind of bums me out because there is so much sadness and pain in that world. So little joy or even pleasure. I don't use porn or even go to strip clubs, like a lot of my friends. I don't like to exploit anybody. That's not my bag. Everyone has fun on my shoots.'"

The follow-up has this reply:

“'I love tampons!' he said, in that psychotically upbeat way that temporarily convinces so many girls that what’s fun for Uncle Terry is fun for them. (I can just imagine him chirping, 'Why don’t you wear these fairy wings while I [lalalalalala]? Wouldn’t that be like, so fun?' to some attenuated girl fresh off the boat from Eastern Europe. Either the man’s totally delusional, or he gets off on the fact that many of these things are not, in fact, very much fun for the girls.)"

Also, this heartbreaking example of the self dissociating from itself:

"This is where I zoom out on the situation. I can remember doing this stuff, but even at the time, it was sort of like watching someone else do it, someone who couldn’t possibly be me because I would never touch a creepy photographer’s penis. The only explanation I can come up with is that he was so darn friendly and happy about it all, and his assistants were so stoked on it as well, that I didn’t want to be the killjoy in the room. My new fake friends would’ve been bummed if I’d said no."

Today in Porn, Covington Church Edition

2010-03-16T08:22:00.000-07:00

Well, not porn exactly. But lust, anyway. I really loved the apse painting in the St. Joseph's Abbey church. And it was only after studying it for a good long while that I noticed the demons tucked in the recesses between the angels. Turns out they're the seven deadly sins, plus Satan and the monk's sin of murmuring.

Some were easier to decipher than others. I'm thinking this one is lust, seeing as how he is entangled. It reminds me of the unrest of Paolo and Francesca in the first circle of Dante's hell. It was kind of a process of elimination.

Heh.

2010-03-16T08:03:00.000-07:00

My favorite line from this New York piece on a rekindling of Hollywood's fizzled relationship with the Evangelicals:

“The church has been willing to embrace Hollywood anytime it gives a nod to what they’re trying to do,” says Harwell, “which is capture the beliefs of Christians.”

Right. Because they all flocked to The Nativity Story.

I've said it before: The Passion was a moving icon, a chance for people to see God die on their behalf - the event they give thanks for every blessed Sunday at church. There is no story like it, not even the Second Coming. Though the Second Coming would be pretty amazing to see, onscreen or otherwise.

In the meantime, we can look forward to dueling versions of Satan's fall: Fall From Grace and something called Paradise Lost.

Not gonna mention my own angel-themed treatment. Nope. That was years ago.

Me for that.

2010-03-16T07:53:00.000-07:00

Ross Douthat in the NYT:

"Our nation might be less divided, and our debates less poisonous, if more artists were capable of showing us the ironies, ambiguities and tragedies inherent in our politics — rather than comforting us with portraits of a world divided cleanly into good and evil."

You see how I suffer.

2010-03-15T09:10:00.000-07:00

Third Daughter casts her eyes heavenward.

I Don't Want To Know.

2010-03-15T09:06:00.001-07:00

Baby lunges at computer.

Dad: Baby, don't lunge at the computer. Daddy's got bills to pay."

Third Son: Just put it on your check.

He meant "Just put it on your tab," of course. A fine mindset with which to enter life. "Just put it on my tab." That's my boy.

The above photo is not related, merely terrifying.

Early graphic novel, St. Louis Cathedral, New Orleans

2010-03-13T22:29:00.000-08:00

St. Joan, inside and outside.

2010-03-13T22:14:00.000-08:00

Bourbon Street Caution Light

2010-03-13T21:03:00.001-08:00

Special bonus image from Decatur Street:

This blog has moved

2010-03-13T10:22:00.001-08:00

This blog is now located at http://matthewlickona.blogspot.com/.
You will be automatically redirected in 30 seconds, or you may click here.

For feed subscribers, please update your feed subscriptions to
http://matthewlickona.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default.

All Flesh To Thee Shall Come, Part III

2010-03-13T09:51:00.000-08:00

Walker Percy's grave, St. Joseph's Abbey, Covington, Louisiana

All Flesh To Thee Shall Come, Part II

2010-03-13T09:37:00.000-08:00

St. Joseph's Abbey Church, Covington, Louisiana

More here.

All Flesh To Thee Shall Come

2010-03-13T07:23:00.000-08:00

From this morning's prayer, Psalm 65. Image from the rear wall of the Abbey Church at St. Joseph's Abbey, Covington, Louisiana.

Gone Fishin'

2010-03-09T11:07:00.001-08:00

Here.

And incidentally, hello, everybody.

Painter's Corner

2010-03-09T09:30:00.000-08:00

Ryan Hannigan does good work.

Ruins - Paging David Fincher

2010-03-09T09:25:00.000-08:00

The Wisconsin Poet passes along this blearily brilliant link to Marchand-Meffre's The Ruins of Detroit. How the above room has never served as a horror film set is beyond me.

Ruins

2010-03-09T09:18:00.001-08:00

The Wisconsin Poet passes along this marvelous link to Britain's (former) Cistercian abbeys. His comment: "Sadness for what could have been."

Lenten Songbook

2010-03-09T09:08:00.000-08:00

And in this moment, I need to be needed
With this darkness all around me, I like to be liked
In this emptiness and fear, I want to be wanted
'Cause I love to be loved

- Peter Gabriel, "Love to be Loved"

November's Visit to Cubeland Mystic?

2010-03-08T07:29:00.000-08:00

Headed out into the desert with the family and sought CM in the caves. Got wedged at one point, crawled into a dead-end wormhole at another. Never did find the Mystic himself. A pity. I brought a handful of harissa to sprinkle on his grubs 'n lentil stew. But the kids had a good time.

Alphonse in the news.

2010-03-05T16:42:00.000-08:00

The American Culture gives Alphonse a shot, and sees something worthwhile.

Alphonse in the news.

2010-03-05T15:49:00.000-08:00

Guns and/or Roses gives Alphonse a shot, but declares it a failure:

"This leaves us with two questions. The first is whether or not this particular device to scare you constitutes pro-life propaganda. The second is if you have some cognitive dissonance about the morality of abortion-as I do-does Alphonse succeed in converting those conflicted feelings into the free-floating dread and twitchy anxiety that are the measure of a good ghost story?

...

But the real question is whether or not it's scary. In this sense, I think Alphonse fails. Chris Gugliotti, who drew the book, uses the unsightly, ugly appearance of a developing fetus to unsettle you. In the moment, when you're reading it, it sometimes does. At other times though, it's laughable kitch. Alphonse is like Chucky; he's alternately creepy and hilarious. The longer you read it, the funnier it becomes, until after a certain point, you can't imagine how you ever found it scary to begin with- just like the Child's Play movies. When this 'monster' starts leaping at people with knives, the moral overtones of the story seem like crass attempts to make a lame story 'important.'"

Hope?

2010-03-04T20:42:00.000-08:00

I love Whit Stillman's film Metropolitan. (Lord help me, I had this poster on my dorm room wall freshman year.) And I'm not alone - The Criterion Collection! But you know what Metropolitan wasn't? Commercially successful. I mean, wow - an Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay, and it pulled in only $3 million in theaters? (Of course, Box Office Mojo says that the film's widest release was only five theaters - which means Cinemopolis on the Ithaca Commons, where I saw it, was in pretty rare company, and that the per-screen average was pretty darn impressive.)

I mention this because I was recently discussing my own little project, Alphonse, with a friend who works in publishing. He said something about how, at the very least, my experience with trying to get the graphic novel made might teach me something about fitting my projects to a prospective audience.

I saw his point. Alphonse has been, shall we say, slow to take off, despite receiving a better-than-decent amount of attention. The attention itself may give some indication as to why that is. The comments at The Awl, Jezebel, and Broadsheet made it clear that the concept was more than a little radioactive - some people clued in to the fact that a revenge-minded fetus wasn't exactly the most sympathetic character, but still weren't able to imagine that what I was trying to make was anything other than propaganda. They still weren't able to discuss a work of art about abortion that explored the moral anxiety surrounding the fetus without entering into a political argument.

Tracy Clark-Flory at Broadsheet, for example, decided that Alphonse was "yet one more attempt to argue for the personhood of the fetus by literally giving it a voice." She decided that I had created a caricature of my own moral viewpoint.

To the latter claim, I say - damn straight. Alphonse is absolutely a caricature. That is, he is a gross exaggeration - a fetus whose personhood is so manifest that he can walk and talk and think and fight. But Clark-Flory was dead wrong about the purpose of that exaggeration. Alphonse is not arguing for the personhood of the fetus by literally giving it a voice. It's not arguing for anything at all. It's telling a story. There's a difference. As I said at the end of my essay at The Awl, "I was trying to make a work of art (however minor) that would do some of the things that art does - reflect experience, engage imagination, and just maybe, enlarge perspective."

Which brings me to problem number two: it's not propaganda. Folks looking for something that's straightforwardly "Yay for our side, boo for their side!" are going to be disappointed. So who's my audience?

Fair question. Maybe it's just me and a curious few. But my friend in publishing is - sadly - mistaken. Two issues in, I haven't learned anything about fitting my projects to my prospective audience. I'm still begging, still trying to finish the story. Metropolitan was worth it, even at five screens and three million. I think Alphonse is worth it, too.

Which brings me, at long last, to my point. The ridiculous generosity of both friends and strangers is about to bump my Kickstarter fund for Issue Three from $600 to $1600. Still shy of halfway to my goal of $4000, but gosh-all, it's amazing. As of tomorrow, I will have twenty days left to raise the rest. I had pretty much given up. Now, I'm daring to hope again.

So if you're still reading by this point, and if you're at all intrigued, please consider helping out. If you've already donated, maybe forward this post on to a friend. If you blog or Tumble or tweet, maybe consider tossing me a link. I've gotten this far. I don't want to quit before it's over. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Lent, Day 16

2010-03-04T07:13:00.000-08:00

"For a moment, they" - the apostles on Mount Tabor - "experienced ahead of time something that will constitute the happiness of paradise. In general, it is brief experiences that God grants on occasions, especially in anticipation of harsh trials. However, no one lives 'on Tabor' while on earth. Human existence is a journey of faith and, as such, goes forward more in darkness than in full light, with moments of obscurity and even profound darkness."

- Pope Benedict XVI

This is Christianity's number one spokesperson talking. Heck of a sales pitch, no? I'm going to try to remember this one for the many times I hear the Church treated as a purely political organization, one with no real interest besides swelling the ranks, filling the coffers, demonizing the Other, and controlling the masses.

Life is Precious

2010-03-03T08:49:00.000-08:00

Or, you know, not.

Lent, Day 14

2010-03-02T06:50:00.000-08:00

Ask and ye shall receive. Just yesterday, I was expressing amazement that the Mass readings for the day weren't doing their usual number on my sense of personal sinfulness. Then, last night, I came across this awesome little book from the early '70s about the strange and exotic world of Italian cookery. No idea where I got it. But as I paged through its wonderfulness, taking particular delight in this image (which really ought to be the banner pic for a food blog), I suddenly remembered the second reading from Sunday:

"Join with others in being imitators of me, brothers and sisters, and observe those who thus conduct themselves according to the model you have in us. For many, as I have often told you and now tell you even in tears, conduct themselves as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction. Their God is their stomach; their glory is in their 'shame.' Their minds are occupied with earthly things."

Ah, yes: "Their God is their stomach." Guilt restored. Lent continues on its merry way.

Lent, Day 13

2010-03-01T10:46:00.000-08:00

Very strange Mass readings today. All about how we have sinned, and stand in deep need of God's forgiveness. Viz:

"Lord, do not deal with us according to our sins. Remember not against us the iniquities of the past; may your compassion quickly come to us, for we are brought very low." - Psalm 79

Strange because this is one of those exceedingly rare days when my sin is not quite so ever before me as usual. I only hope that some kind soul will stop in the comments and refresh my memory.

In other news, someone seems to have lost a shoe at the corner of Palm and La Mesa Boulevard.

Lent, Day 12

2010-02-28T09:31:00.000-08:00

Welcoming party for newlyweds Mary and Fred.

Failure.

2010-02-27T10:43:00.000-08:00

I think that I shall never be
Able to photograph this tree
At least, not properly
But golly gee
It pleases me.

Lent, Day 11

2010-02-27T08:26:00.000-08:00

While we're looking back at Friday, here's another entry for the Tom Waits Lenten Songbook.

Well the rampaging sons of the widow James
Jack the cutter and the pock marked kid
Had to stand naked at the bottom of the cross
And tell the good lord what they did
Tell the good lord what they did
- "Get Behind the Mule"

Lent, Day 11

2010-02-27T08:23:00.000-08:00

A look back at Lent, Day 10, around 1:30 p.m. Clam sandwich. You see how I suffer.

Lent, Day 10

2010-02-26T08:02:00.000-08:00

Jesus says, "Mother I couldn't stay another day longer"
Flies right by me and leaves a kiss upon her face
While the angels are singin' his praises in a blaze of glory
Mary stays behind and starts cleaning up the place

- Patty Griffin, "Mary"

POW Bunnies

2010-02-25T10:22:00.000-08:00

Every day, they let us out of the cage and give us time on the ground. But there are still bars. Mary always starts trying to dig out from under - you can see where she's working in back there - but it's no use. They just keep moving the pen.

Lent, Day 9

2010-02-25T08:05:00.000-08:00

Well I've been faithful
And I've been so good
Except for drinking
But he knew that I would.
- Tom Waits, "Jesus Gonna Be Here"

New Feature: POW Bunnies

2010-02-24T08:12:00.000-08:00

The chickens get free run of the grounds because they lay eggs. But they're either too dumb to leave, or they actually like it here.

Second Son Made Pancakes

2010-02-23T10:58:00.001-08:00

Cinder-who?

2010-02-22T08:18:00.001-08:00

Lent, Day 6

2010-02-22T07:58:00.000-08:00

Just when I thought I was done quoting lyrics to pop songs (and from Sting!)...

"Men go crazy in congregations, they only get better one by one."

That said, I do of late have a tendency to look around the inside of a church during Mass and think, "If this congregation could be roused to act..."

Lent, Day 5

2010-02-21T08:51:00.000-08:00

"Moral posturing is part and parcel of temptation...It pretends to show us a better way, where we finally abandon our illusions and throw ourselves into the work of actually making the world a better place. It claims, moreover, to speak for true realism: What's real is what is right there in front of us - power and bread. By comparison, the things of God fade into unreality, into a secondary world that no one really needs. God is the issue: Is he real, reality itself, or isn't he? Is he good, or do we have to invent the good ourselves? The God question is the fundamental question, and it sets us down right at the crossroads of human existence."

- Pope Benedict XVI, from today's reading in Magnificat

Lent, Day 4

2010-02-20T00:18:00.000-08:00

Saturday, 12:20 a.m.

Lent, Day 3

2010-02-19T15:50:00.000-08:00

How on earth did I miss hearing about Lourdes?

"Jessica Hausner’s strange, mesmerizing Lourdes approaches this religious mythology with an ambiguousness that can be deeply frustrating at first, as Hausner refuses to take a position on whether the town is a wellspring of spiritual gifts, or a gaudy, exploitative tourist trap. Then the story shifts, and the film becomes an inquiry into miracles—who gets them, who doesn’t, and how it all fits into God’s inscrutable plan."

Lent, Day 2

2010-02-18T07:11:00.000-08:00

"The terrible thing is that a perfectly good God is in this matter hardly less formidable than a Cosmic Sadist. The more we believe that God hurts only to heal, the less we can believe that there is any use in begging for tenderness. A cruel man might be bribed - might grow tired of his vile sport, might have a temporary fit of mercy, as alcoholics have fits of sobriety. But suppose you are up against a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would have been useless. But is it credible that such extremities of torture should be necessary for us? Well, take your choice. The tortures occur. If they are unnecessary, then there is no God or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary. For no even moderately good Being could possibly inflict or permit them if they weren't.

Either way, we're for it."

- C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Happy Ash Wednesday!

2010-02-17T07:22:00.000-08:00

"The fool says in his heart, 'There is no God.'"

Happy Mardi Gras!

2010-02-16T10:12:00.000-08:00

This song features Branford Marsalis playing one of the happiest saxophone solos I have ever heard. Not that I've heard that many. But I like this one. It starts at about 2:23.

Beginnings.

2010-02-16T06:33:00.000-08:00

First Daughter knows the first step to founding your own world order is to have an awesome flag.

Very cool.

2010-02-16T06:27:00.000-08:00

Minimalist TV show posters. (The one for Knight Rider is so awesome that I couldn't post it for fear of my blog bursting into flames.)

Wanna Be A Gooder Writer?

2010-02-12T07:31:00.000-08:00

Then hie thee hence to the blog of the Gerasene Writer's Conference, Wisconsin Poet presiding. The online part is free!

I wrote a story!

2010-02-11T10:33:00.001-08:00

The stucco-and-tile façade of the Chee Chee bar glares blackly out onto Broadway; inside, the stale air is tinged purple. A half-dozen men hunch over the bar; four of them are drinking from 24-oz. tallboys of Pabst Blue Ribbon. The bartender has stepped away from his post; that might be him studying the jukebox on the back wall, or it might not. He doesn’t have to worry much about his neglected post; “urgent” is not the watchword here. “Grouchy” might be a better call, gauging from the loudest man at the bar. “You know the old saying, ‘Women and children first?’” he asks the man next to him. “Children, I get. I don’t know about women.” It seems that love, sweet love, has struck again.

Alphonse in the news.

2010-02-10T09:24:00.000-08:00

Jezebel and Broadsheet weigh in.

Incidentally, issue one is now available online.

Alphonse in the news.

2010-02-08T13:54:00.001-08:00

The intrepid souls over at The Awl let me try to explain myself.

Lights Out?

2010-02-02T09:55:00.000-08:00

Blogger just announced that they will no longer be supporting blogs that publish via FTP come March 26. Guess Godsbody can start making the necessary arrangements.

Today in Porn, Hatbox Edition

2010-02-02T08:10:00.000-08:00

The Manhattan Lawyer passes along, appropriately enough, this bit about the legal efforts underway to make sure that nobody ever sees the John Edwards sex tape. (Insert caustic comment here about what exactly it says about society that such efforts should be deemed in any way necessary.) My favorite part of the story concerns the magic hatbox: "The video, which Hunter hid in a hatbox at her North Carolina residence, apparently came into Young's possession in mid-2008 after Hunter asked him to retrieve her passport, which was stored in the hatbox."

"Hunter! Get me my passport!"

"Where is it?"

"In the hatbox, silly! Under the sex tape!"

"Ah. Of course."

Moon, seen through my office window.

2010-01-31T22:32:00.000-08:00

Why?

2010-01-31T14:15:00.001-08:00

Because screamin' semen, that's why.

Geez.

Why, he asks. This guy.

The Party Tree is lit!

2010-01-30T07:16:00.000-08:00

First Son hosted a gathering.

Jailbreak

2010-01-30T07:14:00.000-08:00

"Come on, ladies! Over the wall!"

Ten minutes later, they were, indeed, over the wall. The chickens are restless.

It was comforting to know the neighbors had stopped speaking.

2010-01-29T09:22:00.001-08:00

The Wisconsin Poet sends along a link to a bit of genius hilarity: Unhappy Hipsters.

Exchange

2010-01-29T07:12:00.000-08:00

Me: Look at this tree I saw today. There's not a leaf on the thing.

The Wife: It's like the California version of Charlie Brown's tree! It's...it's like your career!

Me: [bitterly searches for right turn of phrase involving being stunted and sad and yet somehow, hilariously, fruitful; gives up; goes to sleep weeping softly]

From the comments section of The Awl.

2010-01-28T10:56:00.001-08:00

liz [#3108]

Updike: 1/27/09
Salinger: 1/27/10

!!
:(

1:49 PM REPLY

True Religion

2010-01-28T07:55:00.001-08:00

This review of Gene Yang and Derek Kirk Kim's The Eternal Smile at The Comics Journal is smart, perceptive, and well-written, and yet I couldn't disagree more with its conclusion: "this is a strong, well-executed, but modest work that feels like a warm-up for more ambitious future comics."

I think the book is kind of genius, and anything but modest, seeing as it takes careful aim at the unhealthy escape from reality that can be sought in both comics and religion, two things which are both hugely important to the writer. I'd call that pretty ambitious. The central story, Gran'pa Greenbax and the Eternal Smile is a flat-out amazing (and sort of harrowing) story of the uses and abuses of faith, and contains this wonderful, stammering speech from an abused employee:

"You know, I used to come here wh-wh-whenever I felt op-opressed by my - uh l-life. Seeing the Eternal Smile w-w-would g-give me hope - hope that maybe, j-just maybe, the underlying p-principle of the universe isn't m-m-monotony or fear or c-competition, but j-joy. I'd w-wonder if the Eternal Sm-Smile was the sm-smile of existence it-itself. And if existence itself c-could sm-sm-smile, then m-maybe s-s-someday I would too."

The review calls it a "satire of organized religion (somewhat surprising, given the devout Catholicism expressed in Yang’s previous comics)" Or, you know, not so surprising.

Oh, and I should add: that Gran'pa Greenbax story is about a whole lot more than the uses and abuses of faith. It's about man's creations (tech and wealth) obscuring his heart's true desire even as they approximate it. It's about how even our sad little conceptions of the divine may still be aiming us toward the real thing. It's about lots of things.

Today in Porn, Fox News Edition

2010-01-28T07:50:00.000-08:00

Oopsie, Mr. Garrett. Gotta watch those links. Nice job blaming bit.ly, though. Naughty technology! Later, he called the naughty linkage "an innocent mistake." Well, sure - the mistake was innocent...

File under: nobody cares about your stupid grammar.

2010-01-28T07:40:00.000-08:00

I just got an email from Wine Enthusiast, which sells glasses and openers and such. Apparently, they're selling a new sort of glass for Port, and they have decided to use the first line of a customer review as a pitchline:

From: newsletter@email.wineenthusiast.com
Subject: 'You haven't really drank port until you drink it from these glasses.'
Date: January 28, 2010 7:41:45 AM PST

But, I wonder: Can you say you haven't really drunk Port until you've drunk it from these glasses?

Or is it dranken?

Or maybe I'm just drunken?

Must be something I drank.

Outer space?

2010-01-27T09:39:00.000-08:00

Or dirty roasting pan?

So good.

2010-01-26T16:57:00.000-08:00

Ibraheem Youssef designs posters for Quentin Tarantino movies. Design is not dead. It's just working the edges.

[Via Gorilla Mask]

Bookmark

2010-01-26T10:12:00.000-08:00

"Tarrou has some comments on the sermon preached by Paneloux: 'I can understand that type of fervor and find it not displeasing. At the beginning of a pestilence and when it ends, there's always a propensity for rhetoric. In the first case, habits have not yet been lost; in the second, they're returning. It is in the thick of a calamity that one gets hardened to the truth - in other words, to silence.'"

- The Plague, Albert Camus

Some days are harder on faith than others.

2010-01-25T16:26:00.000-08:00

This collection of people trying to contact Mel Gibson via the comments section of a guy's blog post makes me very sad. It's not just people with screenplays. It's people with messages from God, people with troubled marriages, people who need money, people who want jobs, people who want a Noah's Ark movie with dragons and giants, people who have a strange spiritual connection to Mr. Gibson that they cannot explain, people who want help suing a hospital, people who want him to speak at their church, and on and on. Possibly the most heartbreaking: "take me seriously, please."

In other news, the guy played Hamlet. I think now he may be ready for Lear.

I cannot believe, that in today's society, with record numbers of people taking record numbers of anti-depressants...

2010-01-25T11:17:00.001-08:00

...and with the general admixture of helplessness and hopelessness that hangs like a fog about modernity, that no one has snapped up sigh.com.