This Wonderful Man

Has been giving me a terrific headache.

*Ow*

St. Thomas Aquinas,

Pray for us.

An official post from the life of ME

Hmmm . . .

I've been going a little overboard with the pictures lately. So sue me. :)

The past couple of weeks have been as follows:

Mr. Thomas Hobbes was a slimy ignorant good-for-nothing. I prefer his striped cartoon namesake any day of the week. I just spent two whole weeks of seminar trudging through his "Leviathan" and I just about snapped. . . . and now I have to read Spinoza (who is already looking like he's missing a few bolts - and I haven't even finished the Preface) - I'm not so sure about this Junior Seminar deal. *sigh*

My Math tutor has revealed that he thinks Sesame Street, in it's earlier, worthwhile years, was full of formative clips that developed philosophical inductions to many first principles about our surroundings. HaHA! I knew there was some reason I was still so fond of those nostalgic Sesame Street Clips. I mean, who didn't love this one?

And nobody can forget all the educational clips (e.g. - "Near . . . FAaaaaR!", and "Is It Alive?") from your loveable furry old friend,

Grover. Along with scads of other clips from various characters with themes such as, "Air, Air, it's Everywhere" and "I Love my Elbows".

On to other topics:

I was miraculously able to write 1500 words on my philosophy paper draft yesterday. It just came spilling out onto the keyboard- I must've been, as Mrs. G would say, "kissed by my muse". I wrote another three hundred this morning but I've turned the draft in to Obsession #2 in order for him to tell me where I should expound. Better to do that than spend the energy writing frivolously and then have to delete it all in the end.

Over these past few days of much needed vacation time I've been, aside from working on my paper, crocheting a baby blanket for a friend who's pregnant (due in April or May), reading relievingly light material by J.R.R. Tolkien (a story entitled Farmer Giles of Ham) and talking in the commons with the handful of people left here on campus for the break.

I hope you all have had a wonderful Thanksgiving. My love to you all!!

Pax Christi,

ME

The Mystery

If sunset clouds could grow on trees
It would but match the may in flower;
And skies be underneath the seas
No topsyturvier than a shower.

If mountains rose on wings to wander
They were no wilder than a cloud;
Yet all my praise is mean as slander,
Mean as these mean words spoken aloud.

And never more than now I know
That man's first heaven is far behind;
Unless the blazing seraph's blow
Has left him in the garden blind.

Witness, O Sun that blinds our eyes,
Unthinkable and unthankable King,
That though all other wonder dies
I wonder at not wondering.

-G.K. Chesterton

My Week Has Been . . .

Well, . . . a picture says a thousand words.

Lo! I am come to autumn,
When all the leaves are gold;
Grey hairs and golden leaves cry out
The year and I are old.

In youth I sought the prince of men
Captain in cosmic wars.
Our Titan even the weeds would show
Defiant, to the stars.

But now a great thing in the street
Seems any human nod,
Where shift in strange democracy
The million masks of God.

In youth I sought the golden flower
Hidden in wood or wold,
But I am come to autumn,
When all the leaves are gold.

'The Wild Knight.' - G.K. Chesterton

< On campus, down below by the Hacienda. Taken last Friday afternoon with Mort's digital camera. Nice, huh?

I have a lot of seminar to read. Will post more later on.

Pax Christi,
Emily

A Hymn

A Hymn
by G.K. Chesterton

O God of earth and altar,
Bow down and hear our cry,
Our earthly rulers falter,
Our people drift and die;
The walls of gold entomb us,
The swords of scorn divide,
Take not thy thunder from us,
But take away our pride.

From all that terror teaches,
From lies of tongue and pen,
From all the easy speeches
That comfort cruel men,
From sale and profanation
Of honour and the sword,
From sleep and from damnation,
Deliver us, good Lord.

Tie in a living tether
The prince and priest and thrall,
Bind all our lives together,
Smite us and save us all;
In ire and exultation
Aflame with faith, and free,
Lift up a living nation,
A single sword to thee.

A Christmas Carol

A Christmas Carol
The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast,
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)

The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown.
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.

-G.K. Chesterton-

We are more powerful than God?

It's the age-old question:

"Could God create a rock so heavy that he couldn't lift it?"

And Mr. B's reply:

"After my reading of St. Thomas,

the answer would be quite plainly 'no'.

The question is more or less tantamount to asking,

'Can God do stupid things?'
And of course the answer is, well, 'no'.

It's contrary to his infinite wisdom.

And one would think that it were contrary

to our finite wisdom as well . . . .

*pause* *frown*
Nevertheless, you might still say,

'Well then, if I can do stupid things and God can't,

. . . . that means . . . . . .

HAha! I have a power God doesn't have!'

And to you I would say in reply,

'Yes, you do.

Congratulations, you idiot.'

*deep frown* "

A little humor for the day.

Will chat more when I have some . . . well, time . . .
*laugh*

Pax Christi,
ME