A Gothic Weekend

We, the elect eighteen, sat about a great table and spoke of the reshaping of Europe at the hands of Scandanvia. Gotland and Borgholm giving us Beowulf the Goth and Sigurd the Volsung. We watch a Christian heresy bring about the Fall of Rome rather than the Truth. And because of Euric the Visigoth in Spain, Emperor Anthemius calls on Riotimus the Briton. Is Riotimus Arthur? He is last seen at Avallon. And was Constantine III the usurper really the father of Uther Pendragon?
And then came victuals.
And then the Sagas... and cigars...and single malt... in my library.
Some would call it a good time. Still others would say that mankind was never meant to sustain such bliss this side of Ragnarok. We did. So there.

The Hareem

The golden tree, framed by oak,
Under glass above my desk,
Danced with joy as wind caressed
And tore her garment piece by leaf.
Day by day more lustrous few
Fell from her to grassy floor,
And all the other wives of wind
Swayed with same and nuptial joy.
The lord of this light urban wood,
Who dressed these dryads in their youth
In beauty green, o’ershadowed all.
With black and towering, tumbling sky
He treads the wedding isle
And sees their beauty, unadorned;
A promise fair of ruddy children
Springs from the Autumn ground.

by Evan Wilson

Brisk

With back to the wind warm thoughts
Of thanks within me breathe.
Collar up and cap down low, I ought
To mind the cold that seized
The world herebouts. But no, and not
A thought, my face is in the lee.
And smoke, all mine, whips ‘way and fraught
With fall, cold fingers, dancing free
About my pipe, find warmth. Caught
By life itself.
Good day, O God, to thee.

by Evan Wilson

Complaints?

"Do all things without grumbling or complaining."
Was this written by the Apostle because he didn't think there was any brokenness in the creation, any cause for complaint? Perhaps he thought we should recognize the fallenness and just internalize, husband the ulcer we have worked on since high school. Perhaps you don't understand the world in which you live.
Broken and full of fools? Yep, you betcha. To move from there to an internal or external complaint, another belief has to be clarified. Who is in charge here? Who has responsibility for governing the broken system and the annoying company of dunderheads? That is what a complaint or grumble is actually about. It is not about the flaw in the matrix. It is about the flaw in the governance. It is an emotional usurpation. It is the beginning of the seizure of power, of rebellion against those who rule, in your opinion, so poorly. The heart demands better than this. The lips cry out what is the abundance of such a heart. And finally some action, stress cadet sacrificial work loads demanded of self and others to fix what the fools wouldn't, until, with old age, bitterness and frustration hammers the mind into little miserable pieces, crumbling under the onslaught of the inevitable winner, Futility.
This is rebellion, not just against reality or the verse above. This is rebellion against God. Why did He subject the world to decay and futility(see Romans 8)? He subjected it in hope. And you thought that complaining was the the very voice of hope? If you complain, you complain like the Israelites in the wilderness. You have said that you don't trust Him to govern His world, certainly not as well as you would if you had all power. The decisions in the government of this world are different and more demanding than you think. This can be confessed. This can be changed.
I Corinthians 10:9-13 We must not put the Lord to the test, as some of them did and were destroyed by serpents; nor grumble, as some of them did and were destroyed by the Destroyer. Now these things happened to them as a warning, but they were written down for our instruction, upon whom the end of the ages has come. Therefore let any one who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall. No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

We can be better than this. We can honor the governments God has granted this world. There is a way of escape. The Bible says not to rail against, not to grumble about, nor complain to, but it does have a speech proper to the failings of the world. Have the governments allowed calamity to get through? Are you anxious? Request, plead, and thank.

Philippians 4:4-8 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let all men know your forbearance. The Lord is at hand. Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

If you are a complaining person, let it be known to you this day, that you don't sound any more like a Christian than someone who dropped the F bomb. Next time you are rendering your judgments, insert the F word before it. You know, "F-ing traffic!" or "F-ing friends who didn't f-ing remember my f-ing tastes!" I can't type it out because I am what is called a Christian. You can say it really because if you are complaining it will sound more natural, more poetically in keeping with the theme.

Since we are all f-ing dying, opportunities to f-ing complain will only increase.
But the Christian has a choice of other words to live by.
Rejoice.
Forbear.
Request.
Supplicate.
Laud.
Peace.

Dusk to Dark

Join us (Wes Callihan of Schola Classical Tutorials and myself of The Big Haus Society) for an Antiquities seminar! These are enjoyable days thinking and talking about the long ignored glories of the past.

Our Schedule:

Alaric the Visigoth through Attila the Hun
The Glory has Departed
Rome was realizing that she was in no position to be out so late alone. There were new gangs in the neighborhood and the condition of her virtue was suspect and no longer any protection.
Evan Wilson

Sandwich Lunch

Arthur, Sigurd, and Beowulf
The Tree of Dreams
The fifth century was a time of plowing, tilling under the centuries of classical glory but at the same moment, a time of planting. The seed was sown that became Western Europe's myth and cultural identity.
Wes Callihan

Attila the Hun through Theodoric the Ostrogoth
Extreme Unction
The Germanics and the Goths have played long enough with their prey. It was now a time for death and devouring.
Evan Wilson

Boethius and Benedict
Chaos & Consolation
The Mistress of the World was dying and everyone knew it. This shaking of the unshakeable was disturbing the souls. They needed to turn to something, in their religion and thought, to find consolation.
Wes Callihan

Dinner:
Residually Roman ergo Italian


Readings and Smokes:
Recessional: Lest We Forget
Wes will read perhaps of the Sagas and Evan will read C.S. Lewis' narrative poem Lancelot.

This seminar is two weeks from yesterday. If you would like to come from out of town and need a place to stay, just ask and we will see if our guest rooms are still open.

The Difference a Day Makes

Friday: Rollerblade punk
Saturday: Defender of the Freedoms of the West

Hoo Ah!

Graeme has joined the Army National Guard and was processed Friday and is serving his first duty weekend beginning today.
I gave him the haircut last night.
He will serve his senior year in the Guard, go to boot camp in the summer and enter the Army ROTC at UI in the Fall. Heck, I'm proud. The New Empire needs soldiers and I am certainly one who believes that the Legions deserve our honor and service. As always, it is Peace through superior firepower and the Story of Man is writ on the battlefield.

The Arrogance of Man

As I have said before, we define ourselves by the range and success of our wills. It becomes a problem of folly and then evil when we claim a range and/or a success where we have it not. This is the problem declared by St. James in perfectly reasonable and often echoed plans stated in his fourth chapter, verse 13. "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and get gain." This is "boasting arrogance". The remedy is not to always live spontaneously but to dodge the arrogance. "If the Lord wills" is the addendum but not for incantational benefit and as a verbal pretend awash in "Christian speak". We state it out of the abundance of our hearts. Our will in our plans is not the highest will. We are but a vapor. Even your continued living will be at the permission of powers higher than thine.

We all enjoy growing our little emotional, financial, or real estate fiefdoms but the evil (which beset many satraps of the Persian Empire) is to be confused by your downline successes. With the focus of your manifest will expected to be a guide and authority for your citizens, you too ought look up at your own overlords with similar clarity. You are a citizen of God's kingdom. He might have other plans. The rich man in Luke 12 was making very reasonable plans. His view was all downward as he said "I will do this... I will store...I will say to my soul.." God said to him, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you." The richness of our selves, found in the expanse of our kingdoms, must be second to the richness of God's kingdom. His rules ours.

Days of Portent: The Royal Treatment

Al Guyer and The Oracle in tag-team birthday splendor surrounded by babes who proffer gifts of tobacco and hooch.
As one who has an ongoing knife fight with futility, these words I hiss through my clenched teeth to those appeasers who look on this scene and say, "It doesn't get any better than this." Yes is does, and it shall, both in this life, and the Life to Come! So there.

(For those familiar with The Haus who find this scene strange, we moved the dining tables into the living room and vice versa in order to dine in long banquet pomp. We put it all back.)

Hurricanes

On the bombing of Iraq

The sound of thunders coursing blue,
Ripping clouds in sundered night,
Ringed with eyes, (Ezekial's wheel),
They see the fleeing stricken reel.
Dervish, can you lift the fallen?
With cries of ‘Jihad’ from the rubble?
Twisted rock and timber rising
In anger at the tears, (surprising),
The sky gods in their justice weep.
Presumption is laid less than flat
As craters fill with smoke and dead.
The signature of nations’ dread
Upon the deed and lease of least.


by Evan Wilson

Octoberfell

And when October fell
And dark descended golden,
Hearts that dormant lay
Leapt out of Summer’s molten
Heat to Harvest, filled with angels,
With reaping to be done.
The season called for dying,
And they answered, all as one.
That angry answer roiled above.
Hands fair clenched the Holy Rood.
They come to bathe their feet anon
In the dying wicked’s flowing blood.

by Evan Wilson

The Halls of Mojo

Did they believe me?
They certainly liked the food.
They got a free highlighter and pen with their notebook.
Cigars. Did I mention I provided cigars?
They'd better believe me.

Saying the Unthinkable, You Know, Like Oracles Do

Here's a thought. What women call love is actually honor. Certainly not the broad honor (no pun intended) we give some governing official but the same heart/head notion and expression. A governor's relationship to us is as one to many. "Love" occurs when a woman is personally and intimately secured by an agent that was not in the Great Chain of Being for her heretofore.
A woman's love in marriage is weak when the husband only has possession of the honor given to "husbands" ( general honor belonging to a kind) or no honor at all. Her love is strong when she perceives and reveres the individual honor given to his actual individual excellences. This notion of honor/love becomes the love we speak of romantically when the personal, intimate securing qualities of the man reaches a certain pitch in the woman's mind as she regards her jeopardization in life. Her own personal, immediate fief needs a particular, local rule. This encounter with "love" is particular and unique because of particular and unique subjective vantages but, in kind, it is not some arcane other magic for which understanding is impossible, it is honor.
Such is feminine love.
Masculine love is all Mojo.
I guess you should have been at the seminar this weekend.