quotes | dual personalities

January 20, 2015

Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening

by chuckofish

Did you enjoy your long MLK weekend?

We celebrated (belatedly) the birthday of daughter #3

and I celebrated (belatedly) the birthday of an old friend with my pals.

The OM and I watched American Sniper

with Bradley Cooper and–this is the last thing I thought I would be saying–he was awesome. He really deserves the Oscar. This movie is really, really good. Clint Eastwood–and I am not a big fan of his directing–knocked one out of the ballpark. I also have to say kudos to Clint, who is eighty-four, for even being able to attempt this at his age. (I know a lot of guys in their eighties and it is hard to imagine any of them making a movie in the desert.)

Put this movie on your “to do” list!

According to Forbes, American Sniper blew past all reasonable predictions and crushed the January record books with a scorching $90.2 million Friday-to-Sunday and an estimated $105 million Friday-to-Monday debut frame. Well, no kidding. This is a movie with an actual (non-comic-book) HERO in it, with a plot, characters, action, tension–the whole nine yards. Of course, people are going to go see it. Duh. Wake up, Hollywood.

In between bouts of reading Middlemarch, I read a Louis L’Amour oater, Ride the Dark Trail, about one of the innumerable Sacketts. I enjoyed it thoroughly. I am also enjoying Middlemarch, which is full of passages like this:

“My mother is like old George the Third,” said the vicar, “she objects to metaphysics.”

“I object to what is wrong, Camden. I say, keep hold of a few plain truths, and make everything square with them. When I was young, Mr. Lydgate, there was never any question about right and wrong. We knew our catechism, and that was enough; we learned our creed and our duty. Every respectable Church person had the same opinions. But now, if you speak out of the Prayer-book itself, you are liable to be contradicted.”

It is a sure sign that I am really getting old, that I identify with the minor, comic characters, I suppose.

Oh, lordy, life is good, right?

7 Comments

January 12, 2015

“I live my life a quarter mile at a time.”*

by chuckofish

So here we are well into January and I haven’t written anything about the new year or January or anything like that. Tant pis. I haven’t been feeling it.

This weekend, however, I spent all day Saturday and a good part of Sunday putting away Christmas decorations and generally getting the house in order. I feel much better about Life and 2015 and all that.

It is good to welcome back a few old friends who were put away for the holidays.

Hello, Nigel and Errol, you handsome devils. (My mother named these guys many moons ago.)

I hesitate to make any great claims for change in the new year. Change happens despite us, so I prefer to stay on course and hope for the best. The OM and I have pledged to clean up the storage area in the basement and Throw Away a lot of accumulated stuff. This seems like a worthy goal for the rest of the winter months.

Meanwhile I am back reading Middlemarch, which is really good!

People haven’t changed so much since 1871. I recognize quite a few in this study of provincial life.

The OM and I have also enjoyed watching the Fast and the Furious movies he received for Christmas.

I mean who can resist these two cuties?

Vin Diesel and Paul Walker

So onward, I say, in 2015.

Almighty and eternal God, so draw our hearts to thee, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly thine, utterly dedicated unto thee; and then use us, we pray thee, as thou wilt, and always to thy glory and the welfare of thy people; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Amen.

–BCP

*Dom in The Fast and The Furious (2001)

3 Comments

January 1, 2015

Happy New Year!

by chuckofish

Can you find the pixilated Dual Personality in this festive bunch?

I give you an old reliable–but still wonderful–poem for the new year by Alfred Tennyson. Nothing much has changed since he wrote it in 1850. I mean people are still people and it is good to keep that in mind. Tennyson was writing about the “faithless coldness of the times” back then too.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darknss of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

3 Comments

December 17, 2014

This and that: “Um Dasher, Dancer… Prancer… Nixon, Comet, Cupid… Donna Dixon?”*

by chuckofish

A Christmas Carol was published on December 19 in 1843.

Have you read it recently? One year our headmaster read it in chapel and was much mocked for his efforts. He was new, following a genuine Englishman who could read anything he liked (although there may have been some eye-rolling when he hauled out A Child’s Christmas in Wales every year). Unfortunately the new guy set the tone badly for his tenure at our school with his oafish and over-dramatic reading of this classic (“God bless us every one!”). At least that’s the way I remember it.

I usually watch one of the many versions filmed over the years. Scrooge, made in England in 1951, stars Alistair Sim, and is I believe a very close rendition of the original.

Indeed, much of the dialogue is taken word-for-word from the book (“An intelligent boy!” said Scrooge. “A remarkable boy!”).

I’ll admit I cheated yesterday and read the end of the book online. Dickens writes that the reformed Scrooge:

…went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patted children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows: and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk — that anything — could give him so much happiness.

Dickens himself was a great walker in the city and this passage probably is a pretty good description of himself, don’t you think?

Anyway, I think a re-reading might be in order.

In other news, here’s some interesting advice for my fellow introverts.

I love the “Humans of New York” blog, but I really liked this one. Is the world random or is there an unseen finger guiding us? Hello.

The first episode of The Simpsons, “Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire,” aired on this day in 1989–25 years ago!

You will recall that in this episode Homer gets a second job as a Santa Claus in a shopping mall in order to pay for Christmas presents. He doesn’t make enough, of course, so he goes to the dog track where Santa’s Little Helper enters into the story and Homer says, “Did you hear that, Boy? Santa’s Little Helper. It’s a sign. It’s an omen.” Bart replies, “It’s a coincidence, Dad.”

Again with the random/not-so-random question. Hmmm. Amazingly, it all ends well.

Have a good Wednesday–we’re over the hump! Daughter #2 arrives on Friday! Can daughter #1 be far behind?

*”Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire” (1989)

5 Comments

December 15, 2014

Sleepers, wake!*

by chuckofish

Advent Three. The second lesson was I Thessalonians 5: 16-24, which you will recall I blogged about last month.

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise the words of prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil. May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this. (NRSV)

You would think that it would be easy to rejoice during this particular holiday season as we await the birth of our saviour. But it isn’t, is it? We feel harried and under the gun. We try so hard and no one seems to notice. We aren’t included causing us to feel left out and once again like our 8th grade personas. We miss our loved ones and feel lonely. Sigh.

Well, I say turn off Facebook and turn to your prayer book (or Walt Whitman) instead. Take a walk. Give thanks that you can. Have a glass of wine. Give thanks in all circumstances.

It’s all good.

*Hymn #61

4 Comments

December 9, 2014

“There’s a certain Slant of light”*

by chuckofish

Today is Emily Dickinson’s birthday!

Emily lived her whole life (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) in Amherst, Massachusetts. She lived in this beautiful house, called by her family “The Homestead”.

She had a room of her own, and for Emily, this seems to have been enough. She also had her family and she did not lack for friends. She may have seemed “eccentric” to some, but plenty of people thought she was pretty cool. If she was mysterious back in her day, she is increasingly misunderstood now.

The Emily Dickinson Home, a National Historic Landmark, is located at 280 Main St. in Amherst, MA. Although I lived in the vicinity during my college years, I never visited the house. I saw it, but never went inside. The property, which is now owned by Amherst College, is a museum and is open to the public for guided tours March through December. It is definitely on my “to do/see” list.

So tonight let’s toast Emily and read a few of her poems. Here’s a good one for a winter afternoon:

There’s a certain Slant of light,

Winter Afternoons –

That oppresses, like the Heft

Of Cathedral Tunes –

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –

We can find no scar,

But internal difference –

Where the Meanings, are –

None may teach it – Any –

‘Tis the seal Despair –

An imperial affliction

Sent us of the Air –

When it comes, the Landscape listens –

Shadows – hold their breath –

When it goes, ’tis like the Distance

On the look of Death –

2 Comments

December 5, 2014

Yet what I can, I give Him

by chuckofish

Today we celebrate the birthday of Christina Rosetti (December 5, 1830 – December 29, 1894), a 19th century English poet and devout Anglican. She wrote the poem that was set to music and is one of my favorite Christmas carols, In the Bleak Midwinter.

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk,
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air –
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man
I would do my part;
Yet what I can, I give Him –
Give my heart.

Here is a lovely rendition of this beautiful carol:

This may get you headed in the right direction–that is, not toward the mall, but to wherever you go to listen to that still, small voice in your heart.

Have a great weekend and enjoy Advent II.

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December 2, 2014

I couldn’t agree more

by chuckofish

“My love for the Prayer Book began in very early childhood, before I could read – when I could only listen to it. Of course, it was the only book used then. Later, when I could read, during long, boring sermons I would read it and specially loved the instructions – for instance, those to priests for giving holy communion in time of pestilence. That conjured up pictures in my childish mind of the priest walking with the sacred vessels through the almost deserted village, almost certainly to become ill himself; or the prayers for when in danger on the sea, knowing that they would have been read by everyone on board, and the ship would almost certainly founder.

“There is so much history, romance, and great beauty in it. And the prayers like the General Thanksgiving and the prayers after communion are so superb that they meet my need in praying much better than my own words do, and I still use them in private prayer.

“I enjoy services in other denominations, like those of the Reformed Church, or going to a Roman Catholic mass with a friend – but what is essential to me is an atmosphere of devotion and concentration on God. If there’s a great deal of happy-clappy singing and announcements of birthdays, and so on, I can see that it binds people together, but I don’t personally find it’s useful to me. I want silence, so I can concentrate on God – not just talking to him and giving him a list of my requirements.”

–Baroness P.D. James, who died last week, quoted in the Church Times, 2009

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November 26, 2014

Come, ye thankful people, come

by chuckofish

Raise the song of harvest home!

I am working a half day today. Then I will get ready for tomorrow’s feast.

I have already started to set the table.

I like to mix up my china, using some of my own fine china pattern (Autumn) and some of my mother’s pattern (Nydia)–both Lenox. And I love this vintage Vera tablecloth! So autumnal.