Catholic, Gay, and Feeling Fine, Thanks
“Death is the mother of beauty.” Dear Wallace Stevens, you brilliant, urbane, doddering old insurance-salesman of a poet: no it isn’t. Yesterday being All Souls’ day, I spent some time thinking about death. I wasn’t depressed. I felt (and feel) great, actually. Thinking of death is what you’re supposed to do on that day and…
Following my strange little wee-hours rant on apes and desire last night, reader Jamie added a quotation from C. S. Lewis, which of course is where I got the idea in the first place — thanks, Jamie: If you find in yourself a desire which no earthly thing can satisfy, the logical conclusion must be…
“But my dear Sebastian, you can’t seriously believe it all.” “Can’t I?” “I mean about Christmas and the star and the three kings and the ox and the ass.” “Oh yes. I believe that. It’s a lovely idea.” “But you can’t believe things because they’re a lovely idea.” “But I do. That’s how I believe.”1…
