SACRED PROFANITY My wife and I traveled to Italy in April, 2011, five years after a previous visit. We’d been studying Italian literature, and our ultimate destination was Palermo, because we’d read Giuseppe Tomaso di Lampedusa’s masterpiece Il gattopardo (which doesn’t literally mean “The Leopard,” but refers to a heraldic cat more like a lion
In Praise of Elitism I’m one of the librul elite, tra la! I Twitter not, nor do I Tweet, ha ha! I vote only for those Who speak in clear prose, And I don’t trust the Man in the Street, nah, nah! I’m a big innalekshual snob, nyah nyah! If you can’t turn a phrase,
I have been to England only twice, and both visits were brief. The first time, I went with an Army buddy while we were on leave from our base in West Germany during the Cold War. We stayed in London at a cheap B & B just off Russell Square (the word “cheap,” applied to
Today is Valentine’s Day, 2019, and I asked my Valentine which of the recipes I cook regularly is her favorite. She decided she liked my meatballs best. The recipe is basically Greek, but I’ve tweaked it a bit over the years. 4 slices white bread 1 lb. ground chuck 1 egg 1 medium onion, chopped
Anthem For Trumpets As the unfair Mueller witch-hunt continues its snail’s pace toward a conclusion which will certainly be bad for President Donald J. Trump, his die-hard supporters are getting a mite despondent. It seems that honest, upstanding white supremacists can’t catch a break nowadays. Armed bands of rabid, violent Antifascists are breaking up their
The Book of Trump 1: Now it came to pass that the Armorikans grew weary of choosing their leaders, and desired a king to reign over them, who would tell them what to do in every happenstance, and on their behalf, take dominion over the Earth and all that was in it. These same Armorikans
HONOUR And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honour. -last line of the Declaration of Independence Falstaff: Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; ‘tis a
There were two bars in Hochdorf. Both of them were on the ground floors of a couple of square gray stone houses with slate roofs – there was nothing picturesque about Hochdorf – but one of them boasted the village’s only neon sign, which proclaimed simply BAR, in red letters that flickered a little. It