Welcome to Deplorable Cultus Anonymous, an organization devoted to helping individuals break free from slavish addiction to fanatical obsessions that devour an individual’s ability to judge the value of literature. THE TWELVE STEPS OF DEPLORABLE CULTUS ANONYMOUS
Am I trudging to the end of the day, longing for an impractical tomorrow?
Am I ignoring the current moment, waiting for a time that will never exist?
Am I dismissing the tangible things, looking for unreal beauty?
Am I not seeing where I am, because I’m looking where I want to be?
Maybe today is a day for wonderment.
Maybe this moment of pain is worth more than an impossible joy.
Maybe those tangible things are far more beautiful in their solid reality than anything I could imagine.
Why are we so blind?
Why can’t we see? A veil lies between The real and the seen More than we can imagine Even if we can’t glimpse Beyond Don’t stare at the veil too long It blinds our hearts And doubts, if left unchecked, Turn our hearts Away from all his love The living water To wander in the desert For you don’t heal the hurting By wounding their faults Even their whispers of truth Rest on lies Why do we turn Back to the tombs He’s called us out Fools Like you Like me Like us Inspired by the blindness of Samuel of Hunter and the Circle in Green by Ted Dekker
Last night my friend Rosemary and I had an interesting conversation via Facebook chat.
She had figured out why she loved Jane Austen. I realized I had never thought of that! What exactly is it that makes Jane Austen's writing special?
To war! To war!
With brandished sword
And pointed spear
And arrows bent
And banners raised
We lift our voices high!
For life and land
Queen and kin
We shout out to the sky!
To war! To war!
We might not return
But fear do we spurn
We voice our battle cry!
To war!
So the Fairy Folk sang as they marched to battle.
I'm off the beaten track, there
I'm off without a clue.
And when you see me floundering
You'll know just what to do.
You could be my Pharisee,
Carefully walk away.
Carefully walk away, Love
Every single day.
St. Foy sees cities smiling
Amidst the pilgrim siege.
And when she slowly prompts, Dear
You'll know just what she means.
You could be my Samaritan
Carefully take my hand.
Carefully take my hand, Love -
But only if you can.
The calm of night is ever blest
With sweet serenity and rest
As I lie buried in my nest
My dreams I keep.
The sky, with stars, is also blest,
Before it brings, while wheeling West,
The coming dawn, that glowing pest;
O, precious sleep!
The dark of night begins to fade,
The light of day will now invade,
And ruin the Sand Man’s serenade;
My dreams sublime.
My rest, cut short, has been betrayed;
O, stay, you sun! O, be delayed!
If only time were disobeyed.
It can’t be time!
For then there would be a question rusting at the back of our cerebral cortex.
If we are equations and matrixes
Then soullessly let's plunder
Indignant to a tee.
Robots with strong AI just might take over the entire world -
So posits a nerdy chap
Philosopher as he casts
His die, and taps
His fingers to kill mutants.