I've always found that not having much to post is no reason not to post. Can I get an 'Amen'? Besides, you never know what you might write once you start to write. Reminds me of what a long-distance runner once said: “I can’t wait to see what new thoughts and ideas I think of on the run.”
So I heard that there were some commercials yesterday with a football game on the side. (Tivo reports their customers watched the commercials more closely watched than the game, including more replays of commercials than football plays.) I thought the commercial crop was average this year. Superbowl halftime shows tend to be uniformly lame but I was pleasantly surprised by Prince, who sounded great. I was mezmerized by the fact that his jacket seemed not to be getting wet. Usually, on my clothes at least, moisture (like, say, butter) causes the color to dampen -- more on that in a minute.
The game was pretty exciting. That ball popped out more often than verbal gaffes from Joe Biden. (Or Ah-nold). I guess I'm no football purist because those fumbles and interceptions make for an exciting game. Some nice long breakaway runs too. On the first play of the game reminded many of OSU/FLA with the Bears scoring on a return. Amazingly, this Colts guy caught up with the runner right at the endzone. He didn't even have that much of an angle on him - he just flat out outran not only his teammates but the Bears runner who, in fairness, was probably running on fumes after some 80+ yards.
One of the commercials showed a fellow suddenly becoming virtuous (I think due to drinking a Coke). He went about doing good works and making others happy, but one thing that surprised me was how he passed two other guys who carried placards that said "the end is near" and caused them to turn the signs around displaying the message "give a little love". Apparently the advertisement folks think that you're just a mean nasty person if you think "the end is near". Hmmm...I've never made that connection. I thought apocalyptic literature incites us to make our robes clean, not dirty.
I have to say that Dinesh D'Souza acquitted himself well and was even partially persuasive on C-Span's In-Depth concerning his view of Islam and 9/11. He says Islam itself is not the problem. I might have to borrow the book at the library and read it.
From the irresistable force meets immovable object department: Like Jody Bottum, I try to arrange things so as to avoid waiting as much as possible. General TSO was on the cafeteria menu which, even beyond the familiar moniker, is good eatin'. It must be since the line was bohemoth. I considered waiting. I could look at it in two ways: one, I was placing food as an idol in deciding to waste all that time in line. Or alternatively that not going with my first choice was proof that I'm not patient. This is what we call in the Christian world a 'win-win' since I would not only get to exercise a virtue but choose the one I'd be exercising. Would I eschew gluttony or impatience? I chose to eschew gluttony by chewing on a delicious pork chop with potato (or potatoe, in the Qualyeian spelling) and peas. I lathered on plenty of liquid butter on the peas and headed back to the orifice, office slang for 'office', with lunch in hand.
And all was well and good until I got back up to my floor and noticed I'd painted my whole left side with dripping butter. Apparently the dome wasn't tightly affixed to the plastic plate beneath it. It was a masterpiece of poncitude. From upper thigh to knee (heavy on the knees), then a little landed gentrified unmolested area before more dollops all over the calves. It made a sort of a zebra effect on my kahki pants. Here's an artist's rendering:
I tried to maintain a low profile the rest of the day. I slid into Dan's office and took a chair immediately and draped my arm casually over my thigh, thus blocking the view. Later I came across my boss and a comely female co-worker (can you say 'comely' on a Catlick blog?) in the hallway. I made eye contact, smiled and tried to hold their eyes as I slid by quickly. My boss stopped conversing with the co-worker and after I'd passed told me something about a file he needed. Rather than turn completely around I kept my feet in place and twisted around in something that probably looked as awkward as it felt. I'm ready to come clean now. Oh, and also, if nominated I shall not run! If elected I will not serve. I'm giving up awards for Lent, which is easy to do seeing as how I've never won any. (Of course, since far superior bloggers like Eve Tushnet & Eric Scheske & Bill Luse, to name three, haven't won I shan't complain.)
I think that's enough self-indulgence for one post. How about something spiritual? I really appreciate St. Peter, in his example of living with the knowledge that he could deny Christ utterly. Tis a painful thing to have to live with, and how much more painful for someone SO chosen. Of all who have ever lived he was among that small fraction who lived at the time of Christ. Of all who have ever lived at the time of Christ he was among that small fraction who lived in that obscure Roman outpost. Of all who lived in that obscure Roman outpost he was chosen to be among the 12. And of the 12 he was chosen to be among the 3, along with James and John, to be excluded from nothing, not even the Transfiguration. And of the 3 he was chosen for the top spot, the big gig, with the heaviest responsibility of all. And he failed. All the time and effort Christ put into him, the personal teaching, the grace and love, and he denied him three times. And Peter was forgiven, and he did not disbelieve in that forgiveness, but what is even more interesting was that he did not apparently live in fear that he would deny Him again. He lived and preached and evangelized in the wake of that knowledge. His triple denial of Christ might not have been premeditated, but that lack of premeditation would be all the more reason to suspect, in himself, that he might again betray the Lord. Yet he did not, and has received his Heavenly Crown.
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