Grace

Joyce really has come around. His writing, as the stories mature, impresses me more and more. On page 141 of this Bantam-classic, Father Purdon spoke of the business like relationship he would have with his members. As a jack myself, I feel Purdon’s words as echoes from my former religious figures. The business men; with their pockets full, and their bellies fat. I recall they shook hands with the strength of Jesus.

I enjoyed reading the stories perspective about men who are of the world, because it is in their nature. Keep your tallies safe, and accounted for. If all is well, and the measures check, you stand right with d’Jesus.

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A Mother

Being a man, I had a difficult time with this story. It did not settle with me well.

Ivy Day in the Committee Room

Ah, the committee. What a thing. A few men, a dozen or so bottles of port, a fire, and some business. Patriotism, politics, work ethics, and mortality. The words, the words. The Irish. Joyce and his writing resonate with me today. I feel the preceding stories only made this one more rich and meaningful. The poem at the end made a profound impact upon me.

“He is dead. Our uncrowned king is dead.”

Paralysis

Hiatus

Just finished spring break. New posts soon.

First and Foremost

The following is taken from Robert Heinlein’s, Stranger in a Strange Land (1961): 

‘Grok‘ means to understand so thoroughly that the observer becomes a part of the observed – to merge, blend, intermarry, lose identity in group experience. It means almost everything that we mean by religion, philosophy, and science – and it means as little to us (because we are from Earth) as color means to a blind man.

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