Fencing Bear at Prayer

I have it on good authority that I was too cryptic in one of my previous posts , so I will endeavor to speak more plainly today. Let’s start with a question: Do you ever get the feeling you are living in a movie script? Ha! See? This is what I am up against. I have no idea where to start. What was it the King of Hearts told the White Rabbit when the White Rabbit asked where he should begin reading the paper of “evidence” against Alice?  “‘Begin at the beginning,’ the King said gravely, ‘and go on till you come to the end: then stop .’”  But what is the beginning? I am often asked how I came to convert to Catholicism, except in my mind, I didn’t really convert; I just “came home.”* I have been studying the history of Christianity for decades , but I have been studying stories even longer, ever since I could read.  I remember asking my teacher in second grade if I could take a book home from school because I wanted to rewrite the story we had been reading in class. I think it had a zebr

For Thanksgiving Day, I invited the poets in my Dragon Common Room to celebrate each other in verse—specifically, in Swinburne roundels—as a way of giving thanks for the work we have done together these past five months . We have finished our “Dunciad” (a.k.a. “ The Centrism Games ”) and are waiting for readers’ responses before we revise. So it seemed appropriate to revisit the verse form in which I invited Milo’s chat to celebrate him at the beginning of this year. Can you remember January 2020? It seems a lifetime ago. HOW TO WRITE A SWINBURNE ROUNDEL 11 lines—nine lines having the same number of syllables, plus a refrain after the third and last lines. The refrain must be identical with the beginning of the first line AND rhyme with the second line. Rhyme scheme: A B A R / B A B / A B A R, where R=first half of line 1, rhyming with B 1 Dragons in the chat write roundels for fun, Training in meter to challenge their wit. Rhyming for Joy of the Word they have sung, Dragons in the

The world hates clowns. Jesters, comedians, fools. Just look at what the world says about Jesus. “His mother was a menstruating woman and a hairdresser who committed adultery with a Roman soldier named Panthera .” “Jesus was a magician who learned his tricks in Egypt and used them to deceive his followers and lead them astray. When he was called out on his trickery, he set up a brick and worshipped it .” “Jesus didn’t die on the cross; he tricked Simon of Cyrene into carrying it for him. It was Simon who died, not Jesus .” “Jesus was a grandiose, narcissistic masochist who resented his mother for raising him fatherless. Mary knew the truth of her adultery, which is why she said nothing when Jesus handed her over to John from the cross, as if to say, ‘You gave me a fake father; here is your fake son .’” I don’t know about you, but I’m sure he deserved it. I mean, think about it. What kind of a fool goes around challenging the prestige and authority of the scholars and lawyers to tell

It all started with a bat. Bats fly about at night. I’m sure you’ve seen them in Halloween decorations, flying across the Moon.  Once upon a time, people knew to be wary of the Moon, with its 28-day cycle ( according to NASA, 27-days ) and its affinity for the feminine. Back in the Middle Ages, before Copernicus used his number magic to prove that the Earth revolves around the Sun, people understood that the sublunary sphere—that is, the Earth with its atmosphere—was a place of transience and change. People were wary of the Moon with its reflected light and its dark splotches. Were they shadows? Were they seas? People knew to pay attention to the Moon—and not just on Halloween. Moon magic—or so they knew, back in the Dark Ages—is dangerous. Moon magic drives men mad. Moon magic makes people put on masks and hide from the sun. Moon magic turns living souls into ghosts. * I went grocery shopping with my brother the other day. We are in Texas, staying with our mother, praying for our step