the mystery of the archives

Anyways, so I've been reading, with immense joy, the archives of my divers writings scattered throughout the Internets. Most of what I write is completely memorable to me, but, occasionally, I run into something completely mysterious. For some context, I jokingly wrote frequently while in school about dropping out and becoming a goatherd, marrying suddenly, being tricked into being a monk, other such matters. Now:

In other news, I realized I could never be a monk because there are certain genres of people who I absolutely cannot stand to be around and it would be just my luck that I'd probably be in a small monastery with at least one such person. I've read Thomas Merton's journals, it's inevitable! But, quite fortunately for me, I happen to be the sort of person who really ought to be married [at least, according to Woman].

This was from sometime around Christmas of '05. I have no idea whatsoever what "Woman" this could be referring to. Later citations of that idea attached it to St Paul's counsel and, until today, I thought that had always been the case. Reading the archives around that date, of course, would not be any help in jogging my memory, since every woman is referred to as "Woman". It is all a mystery, especially as I cannot recall any person with whom I would have had such a conversation, at least at that date.

Emodox

This is not going to be my great treatise about the so-called "emodox", the terminally "emo" Orthodox Christians one sometimes sees (often converts, but not always). I am certain most religious traditions have their own equivalent. Some entire denominations of Protestantism encourage such a temperament in their forms of popular piety, in fact.

I was actually going to write more, but it would turn into uncharitable caricatures of specific British people, so I decided not to. So, I will spare you my thoughts but leave this post because "emodox" is such a great word. It must enter our lexicon.

That's right.

This web-log just got more pretentious.

on dilettantes

Honestly, prior to reading this post, I had considered affecting the usage of "might could" because it seemed so lovely to me, though I've never lived in or even been in a region where it would be colloquial. I took it as a sign of rootless dilettantism [sic], an attempt at appropriating a culture not my own, rather than a true appreciation of the semantic subtleties of the linguistic construction. I don't even know what my own voice sounds like or should sound like. I've been reading a self-help book to sort this out. I think most of the things I say are affectations, since I was taught utterly "standard" American English with an utterly unmarked accent, except for a few rural colloquialisms picked up from who-knows-where, namely, sometimes saying "gorsh" instead of "gosh" when flustered and having "bag" rhyme with "vague", though I've unfortunately begun overcompensating by making "vague" sound like the "normal" pronunciation of "bag", as my comrades in youth made fun of my pronunciation (so I didn't learn it from them, and, oddly, I didn't consciously change it until now, when nobody seems to care). I've noticed that when I read in public or drink excessively, I stop some yod-dropping and start broadening A's. But this is all quite a digression. So, anyways, if anybody knows what I'm supposed to sound like, please do tell, I'll be glad to conform to something.

In principio creavit Deus cælum et terram

Previously I remarked that translating it otherwise (ie, "made" instead of the usual "created") probably wouldn't throw anybody off, but, I have reconsidered and would agree in light of the original Latin. Consider this a public retraction of a previous comment.

And the Antiochians agree with the Russian ranking of bishops and not the Greek.

Carry on.

looks like i'm already reaping the rewards

After this morning's liturgy for the Archangel Michael and his posse, I come to work to find out that I'm getting a new better job in the new year. I'm already enjoying the benisons of my study, it seems. Well, I can't count my chickens before they're hatched, we haven't yet discussed remuneration. I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord. Of course, I'd say the same if I got canned today, though I might say I deserved it, too.