that last one was moody... and it feels very childish... well, adolescent... i'd been reading in the coffee sutras... wherein kurt was pondering current issues in the anglican church... and wondering about his quest for a meaningful christianity... he writes in one spot:

... for a time I began to journey back to the Catholicism of my youth. As one prone to look at religious practices as primarily exercises in the use of symbols, I felt pretty good there. However, my anti-authoritarianism could not accept such doctrines as a males-only priesthood, a closed communion table, the Church's teaching on divorce, and the historical tradition of the papacy. Fortunately, I found my way to Anglicanism.

well... i've got thoughts about these issues too... but what struck me was the freedom he and his commentors have... to say... just to say... about their search for a spirituality that is congruent with their experience... to name their (ongoing) paths...

what? of course they are free... to speak their minds... of course they are... but i am not? ...of course i am also free... it's a free world... free free free... but do i need to quote kristofferson/joplin lyrics here?

it's a simple equation... put up or shut up...

a teacher needs to be a model citizen... a brother needs to be a model catholic christian (christian catholic?)... the whole world is watching... truth is... i may not want the bother of having to be step-by-step rational and responsible... i'd rather blurt... and when i do... complications follow... backtracking... clarifying... all that damn boring explanation... no... i just want to blurt... and be done with it... i guess...

and just now i notice that kasey has made a link to this journal... i wonder what that means... do i want somber sober drunken goofy poets and bloggers wandering in here... watching brtom among flowers on walks in class on the floor talking stoopid to the cat under the bed.... what's that gonna do to hermano mysterioso? i don't care... welcome all... i'm working on my exhibitionistic timidity... the next phase...

who remembers the table-juggling baranton sisters, fantasio's magical doves, the amazingly true really bad badnesses of vanilla fudge jerking through "shotgun", peter and gordon just being peter and gordon (all five hundred miles of 'em), and the otherwise great temptations torturing "the best things in life are free"? we saw it all on the ed sullivan show... and yesterday on pbs... i remembered... how bad... and had a great deep laugh... at everything... and felt much better.

It is clear that all verbal structures with meaning are verbal imitations of that elusive psychological and physiological process known as thought, a process stumbling through emotional entanglements, sudden irrational convictions, involuntary gleams of insight, rationalized prejudices, and blocks of panic and inertia, finally to reach a completely incommunicable intuition.

Northrop Frye

talk to me

brtom.org