Pealing Out

From Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice comes this little gem of dialogue occurring between sisters Jane and Elizabeth Bennet the evening of Jane's engagement to Mr. Bingley:

"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!" cried Jane. "Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled out from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!"

"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness."

In accord with the prime directive. . .

In an attempt to keep the Irvings up to date here - I've officially come out against restaurants and the Late Show with David Letterman this past week. Movie theaters are currently under review and the appeals process in the matter of Third Day has sadly ended in failure - my disfavor was upheld.

proofreading my own paper

Pretenses are bad things only when one excels in making them believable. Awkward, stumbling and bumbling pretenses are considered cute in their desperate earnestness. Of course I would just as soon have nothing to do with them at all. But alas. . . my labyrnthine manner of society has made simplicity impossible in some matters. I'd like to say something like "I'm committed to being more straightforward in these areas" but I know that possession of a candid tongue is not acquired through aspiration but rather a settled conviction.

Deja vu at the dentist office today. . .

Three things that are sure to happen while I visit the dentist for a cleaning:
1) The dental hygienist, having learned that I'm a pastor, will make available to me the dossier on her spiritual life and will wait to make the most ridiculous assertions about God and salvation until she has both hands, a mirror, and a pick in my mouth.
2) The song "Name" by the Goo Goo Dolls will be played faintly in the background but not faintly enough.
3) I'll have my bitewing x-rays taken and I'll think to myself what a cool word "bitewing" is.

This just in . . .

At a press conference earlier today, John Tate announced that he was coming out against the USA Today newspaper. While never a subscriber, Mr. Tate has been a long time supporter and patron of the popular daily. Reading from a prepared statement, the pastor, flanked on either side by the untrimmed hedges that mar the appearance of the otherwise stately parsonage, declared : "The decision to end my twenty year relationship with the USA Today has not been an easy one. The paper has been a faithful companion for many a flight, coffee break, and meal eaten alone at a restaurant. Concerning those meals, I would like to personally thank the paper for all the pity it has successfully deflected over the years. But in the end, my ongoing campaign against the doppelganger was being compromised by my addiction to useless information. I'm afraid that USA Today is now USA Todon't." Mr. Tate also cited cost increases and what he called "subversive attempts by the editorial board to curdle the faith of Christians" as reasons for the break-up. A spokesman for USA Today expressed shock and disbelief at today's announcement: "We've heard grumblings from Mr. Tate in the past; but he always comes back. Where else is he going to read a critical treatment of the weekend's color commentary of sporting events or find out the truth about the love lives of reality stars? He'll be back." Tate sounded resolute however when fielding questions from the imaginary gaggle of reporters assembled on the east lawn. When asked if he'd pick up and peruse an already purchased and discarded copy, Tate replied coldly "I might poach it for the crossword." Tate was seen late today outside of the Dunkin Donuts on Washington Road with what appeared to be a copy of the Augusta Chronicle. The doppelganger could not be reached for comment.

From the desk of the spiritual archaeologist. . .

Lasting holiness can only be achieved when abstinence at long last matures into abhorrence. To love what God loves and to hate what God hates is the only sabbath I know.

Obviously asea at sixes and seven here

A helium-filled balloon tethered to a cellophane-covered basket of pre-packaged and artificially-flavored "goodies" should be honest and read: "Get well soon or this antiseptic sentiment may be the last you're ever given."