Fencing Bear at Prayer

For Milo Come, ever-darkening, shadow-laden night!  Descend! Descend upon this sleeping earth. Her rocky back grown cold, she cries, “Alight! Bring me my brother from our nurse’s bed, For he is grown and ready now to fly! Fly high, my well-beloved son—Take flight From out the sabled, hallowed inky sky, Afire and limned in crimson flames, hot red!” Hark! his foot drums, beating ever faster, Trembling with each pulsing of my veins. Channels deep that course like ancient rivers As ancient and as new as he and I. Approaching swift, the dim’s mist fast unfurls As bowing, kneeling, kissing taloned feet, It rushes soft along his mirrored scales. Hear! Hear! His voice is calling, “Time to fly!” Mine eyes op’ wide in concert with the moon; The soil resounds the thunder of his voice Atop the mountains crying out earth’s doom: “Op’ wide, O Earth, and let thy brother in!” The darkness of the heavens is his might. The seven-flamed Spirit is in

It is often said, “The fool was the only one who could speak truth to the king.” Tyler Hummel and I talk about the role of the fool in speaking truth to society and the way in which his truth-speaking restores harmony to the world. Join us at Fox Valley Film Critics as we talk about great holy fools in film ! Films “ The Court Jester ” (1956), with Danny Kaye, Glynis Johns, Angela Lansbury, Basil Rathbone, and Cecil Parker; directed by Melvin Frank and Norman Panama “ The Fisher King ” (1991), with Robin Williams, Jeff Bridges, Amanda Plummer, and Mercedes Ruehl; directed by Terry Gilliam References Heather Arden, Fools’ Plays: A Study of Satire in the Sottie (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980). Jonathan Pageau, “ Kanye West—‘Jesus is King’: The Fool and the Inversion ,” The Symbolic World , October 29, 2019. Milo Yiannopoulos, “ Why I’m Counting on Generation Joker: Western Civilization Has Just One Hope—Zoomers ,” censored. tv, October 31, 2019 For

A dragon poem by my sister-in-arms In the quiet of the morning, In the still of the break of day, Rises the wing’d immortal, In his churlish, Godly play. Rising up to meet his Maker. Rising up to meet the dawn. Rising up further and far— Crushing demons in his song! God and angels bow to greet him, Bow to laugh, to dance and sing! Heaven is much the better For the love here unfolding! For Milo’s and my continuing adventures training in the imitation of Christ, see The MILO Chronicles: Telegram Diaries (from August 2019). Our journey begins in Milo Chronicles: Devotions 2016-2019 , available in hardcover on Amazon and direct from the publisher at Castalia House . Watch Milo’s interview with me about my book at censored.tv or on his YouTube channel .

TW: Some images NSFW—Not Safe for Women. Even knowing what had been going on in Milo’s Telegram chat for the last several months , I was not entirely prepared for what I found when I opened the app on Friday for the first time in a week . No longer Milo’s Finishing School ,* the chat was now 𝕳𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖄𝖎𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖔𝖘   and the members were all changing their names to reflect their house loyalty. I had been promoted to Grandmother Yiannopoulos, while Milo was now Mother and the other admins were Brothers, Sisters, Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins. There is even a Big Gay Uncle, an eternal Karen, a Brother-in-law, and one Maid. There were also some new rules, most notably a Death clause. (If declared dead by Mother, the chat member would become a ghost, and anyone who talked to him or her would be sent to the sanatorium for being crazy enough to talk with dead people.) There was also a rule against cursing—“unless you are a male Elder”—which the admins were busy enforcing

The bickering and in-fighting had been intensifying for weeks. Like dogs to their vomit, the members of Milo’s Telegram chat kept returning again and again to the same-old, same-old rivalries they had been cultivating for months. “She hates me!” “He said mean things about me!” “The admins have too much control.” One of the admins got so sick of it that he left both the admin group and the main chat entirely, declaring himself weary of the drama and how serious it had become. Milo asked the admins how we might put a stop to the nonsense. “I’m tired of everyone whining about the ‘mean atmosphere,’” he told us. “So what’s the solution?” I had excused myself from speaking  that week  after blowing up at the chat for precisely this reason, so I first asked whether Milo wanted my thoughts. Milo replied, “I already said I want people’s opinions. Why ask again? JUST ANSWER!” I opened gently. “I have learned an important lesson in the past week about what kind of effect even positive

Boys love games. They love making up rules, arguing over how to play by the rules, testing the rules by breaking them. They love competing with each other within the context of the rules,  and  they love demonstrating that they know the rules exist to be broken. They make rules solely in order to test whether they are willing to abide by them, and they make rules that define the possibility of having a game at all. They know that the rules are arbitrary because they have agreed to them, and they agree that the rules are absolute insofar as they define the game. When a boy says, “That’s not in the rules!,” it is at once a challenge to own up to one’s fault and  an invitation to determine whether the rule was a good one. Girls, on the other hand, have no idea how to play boys’ games . Some girls ( raises hand) think they do, but we really don’t. Girls—as Carol Gilligan’s famous study showed —play a wholly different game from boys, even when we play with the boys at the games the b

In festo Pulchritudinis Rosae, filiae et amicae 1 Hail most illustrious Maid Rosie! Shall we immortalize thy glory?! Who will carve thy form? Can stone or clay capture such beauty? Nay! But for all the world there is not another Like unto this gentle Child. Go then good men— Artists, Sculptors weep! Your craft is brought to naught. For our fair Lady Whom we magnify today Is God’s handiwork And none can imitate! Rejoice then all Angels! Praise Christ All Godly people, For this His wondrous creation! 2 Of my beautiful Deer there is never enough time in the day to sing her praises. For how can love ever be forced? My love for her is as immense as the heavens and as deep as the oceans.  The more I love her the more I want to love her! My love is unmatched! Come men! Bring your sonnets! Your words of love! Let us battle—love for love! No one loves Rosie more than I, save my lord Milo! 3 To my beautiful Deer, I a