This is Sublime: The World's Worst Fitness Columnist

I’m not sure what exercise does for your body, but I do know what it does to your personality. And it’s not pretty

I love this quotation:

I have been writing a fitness column for a year and in this time I’ve digested very little about what exercise does for your body.

If you exercise, apparently it will cause you to think differently from the staff of The Guardian, and that is an unforgivable violation.

Still More Powerful Than Absurd Photocopies

How The Book of Common Prayer Became a Modern Worship Album

One of the Reasons I Don't Like Those Things

WACO WAVEPOOL CLOSED WHILE CDC TESTS FOR “BRAIN EATING AMOEBA”

The Coracle's Saturday Literary Corner

The Last Structuralist

In our contemporary cult of victimhood, we see supposed victims of oppression routinely set out on self-righteous crusades to humiliate and punish their former persecutors. Persecution “is pursued in the name of anti-persecution.” The former persecutors become the new scapegoats who must be sacrificed to eliminate social violence and allow peace to reign. That so many of the causes whose advocates now seek to “punish the wicked” are morally inimical to Christianity is incidental in comparison with Girard’s chief insight about them. Modern scapegoating resuscitates archaic religious sacrifice; the post-Christian world is also a pagan world redivivus, as it refuses to learn the lesson of Christ on the cross fixed at the center of history.

Cliff Young

Originally published on December 7, 2012

When she visits on the weekends, my niece goes to the gym with me.  [Yes, I still call it that, rather than "health club", "sports club" or any of the other terms that are probably more precise and certainly more contemporary.  In my earlier life, before the advent of the health club craze, I would attend either "the Y", which had a pool but no true weight room, or "the gym", which was Rocky Graziano's on West 25th St., which had a weight room but no true pool, unless you counted the accumulated rain water on the building's roof.  While my current gym has a pool, it is certainly way beyond what our small YMCA had in the 1960's.  But, I digress.]

Because of her interest in marathons, I've come to know something of that very particular world of athletic pursuit.  Mostly, it's because I get stung with her bills for running shoes, portable running computers, and some God-awful muck called Gu that marathoners "eat" while in the midst of a race.

This lead me to learn that there is a type of footrace that originated in Australia called the "ultra-marathon".   As it sounds, ultra-marathons cover over 550 miles of rough terrain for, well, for however many days or weeks it takes for the contestants to finish.  If they do.  It's the rough equivalent of 21 combined marathons.

Naturally, this pursuit attracts every sort of extreme sportsman or sportswoman, including, I'm sure, the standard collection of nutters, who desire to prove something by completing this grueling trial.  They are fit, trim, and appropriately muscled.  If you saw them, there would be no mistaking an ultra-marathoner for one of the usual gym rats.

Well, except for one, who was originally thought to be just another nutter.  And why not, considering that he had never competed in even a standard marathon, was already past his 60th birthday, was a farmer from the middle of nowhere, showed up to run in gardening boots, and was in rather desperate need of dental prosthesis?  

Oh, he had arthritis in his legs, too.

Apparently, in order to be a successful farmer from the middle of Nowhere, Australia, where vehicles cannot handle the terrain, one needs to be able to herd the sheep on foot, mainly by chasing after them.  For days on end.  Hence, Cliff Young figured a race like this wouldn't be any different than what he had been doing on the farm his entire life.  Well, except for the chasing sheep part.

You can maybe guess the rest.  At the start of the race all of the ultra-marathoners took off leaving Cliff the Nutter in their considerable wake.  After 17 hours, the runners retired for the evening.  The next morning, much to their surprise, Cliff Young was in the lead.  Perhaps I should have mentioned that when Young was herding his sheep, it was not unusual for him to run all over his 2000 acres for days at a time without stopping to sleep or eat.  Is there an adjective more extreme than "extreme"?

To make a long story short, Young won the race.  In fact, he broke the record by two whole days.  When he was presented with the prize check, he revealed that he hadn't realized that there was money involved.  He just did it for a lark.  In a moment of pure Australian-ness, he divided the prize money between the other contestants, as he felt they had worked just as hard as he had.  That's right, LeBron, this is what grown-ups do.

He would set six more long-distance running records before his career ended.  He would also compete again in the Ultramarathon when in his 79th year, while battling cancer.  He finished the race, of course.

I should add that along the way he changed the running style of long-distance runners.  Suddenly, every extreme athlete in the world was running like a mildly deranged Aussie farmer.  It turns out that physiologists realized that Young's natural running style was the most efficient for that type of foot-racing. 

He died in 2003 at the age of 81.  All of the prize money that he had won over the years he gave to charities or friends and family in need.

Well, There Goes My Trip to Mars

SEC Suing Elon Musk for Fraud

A Valid Question, the Answer to Which is "No"

Do we really still need Banned Books Week?

Archaeological News

Archaeologists Have Discovered The Submerged Ruins Of Ancient Church Where First Council Of Nicaea Was Held 

Also, where the earliest version of what we know as The Nicene Creed was composed.

A Pungent Observation

Apparently, most of the members of the political/media class don't know what the word "corroborate" means.  That doesn't prevent them from using the word, of course.

[Yes, I broke down and peeked at social media.  That was an error.]

"The Preachers of the Great Awokening"

"Wokeness" is the ultimate realization of a world without a true religion to teach of mercy, community, reconciliation, and love.

From the sun-blanched beaches of California to the snow-covered cities of New England, a religious fervor is sweeping the United States. PhD-toting preachers spread the faith with righteous zeal, denouncing those who violate its sacred principles. Sinners are threatened not by an angry god, but by a righteous mob. The impenitent among them are condemned to be outcasts, while the contrite, if they properly mortify themselves and pledge everlasting fealty to the faith, can secure enough lost status to rejoin society, perhaps forever marked by a scarlet epithet. Racist. Sexist. Ableist. This is the religion of Wokeness, and this is the era of the Great Awokening.

Mental Health Time

Everyone, the discourse on social media is insufferable right now, and my long-held belief that our political/media class is dangerously stupid has been repeatedly reinforced and, amazingly, expanded and deepened in recent weeks.  As much as I enjoy eating popcorn while the elites of our society devour themselves, their world view is poisonous, infectious, and unpleasant and I'll be shutting down my media accounts for the time being.

Since those are the main sources of what winds up posted on The Coracle, this will mean a change.  Just for fun, I'm going to play Alan Watts for a bit and post bits and pieces of the roughest of drafts of my next "epic".  Relax, it's less interesting than it sounds.

The Friday profile redux will continue; the Saturday literary corner will, as well.  We may add a new feature for a bit on Thursdays; we'll see about that.  But, links to articles will diminish until we are, once again, in a less silly world.  Or, when the next civil war presents itself and the four horsemen make their ride.  That'll be worth some commentary.

Everything You Know is Wrong

Cornell review finds academic misconduct by food researcher

Wansink had previously helped update the U.S. dietary guidelines and is known for his research on consumer behavior, which has been widely cited including in articles by The Associated Press.

Ordinarily, shoddy research by someone with a government grant wouldn't draw my attention.  It's rather common.  But this joker's work was used in public school cafeterias for the better part of a decade, in fact it was the chief feature of the former First Lady's school lunch program, and has resulted in less healthy kids.  That's troubling.

The Coracle's Saturday Literary Corner

How C.S. Lewis Predicted the PC War on Literature

Art Pepper

Originally published on November 23, 2012

There is a moment, early in a recording by Miles Davis' The Rhythm Section, when the saxophonist seems to quiver a little, as if he were unfamiliar with the music, had lost the ability to read from the sheets, or transpose in his head, or wasn't quite sure where he was.  If you guessed all of the above, you'd be right.

Art Pepper, the saxophonist, had forgotten that he was to record in the studio that day; mainly because he was coming off of a heroin high and was not quite sure of the year [it was 1957], the place [it was Los Angeles] or the location of his instrument [it was under the bed in a rather poor state of maintenance.]  He managed to get to the studio, though, in some sort of condition; a studio filled with musicians of whom he had heard [everyone knew of Miles Davis by that time], but with whom he had never worked.  Since arriving at a studio in rather rough shape is not abnormal in jazz circles, they took it more or less in stride, as long as Pepper could play.

And play he did.  While a little rough at first, Art Pepper managed, on that long day in LA, to record one of the seminal works in jazz, "Art Pepper meets The Rhythm Section".

Pepper's life was not easy.  He struggled for many years with drug and alcohol addiction, lost out on gigs and chances for fame, went for long periods without employment and, seemingly, without friends.  But, talent will out, and he became a clean, sober, and trustworthy studio musician, and then, with no small amount of help from Davis and others, the originator of what's now recognized as the West Coast jazz sound. 

If you wish to read more of him, I cannot recommend more strongly his autobiography, Straight Life.

I could speak of him endlessly, but it's best to just listen to what he could do, while imagining yourself driving over the 6th Street bridge in LA in the middle of the night with the top down; or looking out over that sparkling city from Mulholland Drive.

Oops

Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby, the spiritual leader of the world's Anglicans, faced accusations of hypocrisy on Friday after it emerged the Church of England holds shares in online retail giant Amazon and employs people on zero-hours contracts.

Probably should just stick to sermons about Jesus and leave social justice to the secular hypocrites.

Affirmed

Please, students, take that ‘impractical’ humanities course. We will all benefit.

Satire. Maybe. I Can Barely Tell.

SEATTLE, WA—After reading several chapters from the gospels over the weekend, local progressive believer Wendy Butler reportedly published a Patheos blog post in which she criticized Jesus of Nazareth for “not being very Christlike.”

The blog post took Jesus to task for His “unloving and problematic” teachings.

“He devotes entire sections of His sermons to ranting about archaic religious concepts like hell and the last judgment instead of just coming alongside the marginalized and affirming their sins,” Butler said. “Very little of what He did on earth I would describe as life-giving. Frankly, I do a better job of being Christlike than Christ Himself.”

At the New York Public Library, a permanent exhibit will showcase the library’s millions of treasures

Getting up close with the New York Public Library’s treasures is going to get a lot easier starting 2020. Thanks to a $12 million donation from philanthropist Leonard Polonsky, the NYPL will debut a permanent exhibition in the fall of 2020 that will showcase items like the Declaration of Independence written in Thomas Jefferson’s hand; manuscripts from the likes of Maya Angelou and Jack Kerouac; and original sheet music from Beethovan and Mozart.

Replace "Despite" with "Because of"

California’s poverty rate is still the highest in the nation, despite state efforts

That's Easy. The Latter.

Which Are More Reliable, Aristotle and Plato, or Matthew, Mark, Luke And John?

The Times, They are A-Changin'

Six gay candidates are running in Connecticut — as Republicans

I Still Miss Australia

Fighting pythons drop from ceiling into family's home, snake catcher captures attack in live video

Jeez, Talk About "Fake News"

Disco's Saturday Night Fiction

Twenty years later came a bombshell. In December 1997 New York magazine published an article in which Cohn confessed that there never was a Vincent. There was no “Lisa”, “Billy”, “John James”, “Lorraine” or “Donna” either. While 2001 Odyssey existed, it wasn’t the way the writer described it in 1976. The whole scene of disco-loving Italians, as mythologised in Saturday Night Fever, was exaggerated. The most bizarre detail was that his disco protagonists were in fact based on mods Cohn had known in London. The writer was “painfully aware” that everything Fever had brought him – the fame, the fortune – was the result of a lie.

So, "disco culture" was never a real thing.  No kidding.  The best part about it, though?  The reaction to the fakery of disco was the very real, visceral, primal Punk/New Wave music.  The reaction was built on the foundation of truly popular music and carried pop culture into new creative territory.

Two things should have tipped off our media thought-leaders about the artificiality of disco:
1.  Every bar and nightclub that shifted to a disco theme went broke, and
2.  Comiskey Park, 1979.

The Coracle's Saturday Literary Corner

Paul Scott’s “Raj Quartet”: The English “War and Peace”

If you enjoy 20th century history and a well-wrought story, this four-volume novel is not to be missed.  Or, you can cheat and watch the Masterpiece Theatre version from the 1980's.

Lou Kallie

Originally posted on November 2, 2012

It was one of those hole-in-the-wall places that you can find in any city, although usually the discovery is accidental or coincidental.  Like the many, many other people who lived and worked on the east side of Cleveland, I had driven by Kallie's establishment many times and never noticed it.  It was, and I hope still is, in the most ordinary of buildings, shared with a beauty salon, a small bank branch, the office of some personal injury attorneys, and a McDonald's.  For a few years the sign out front was cracked and, if traveling east on Mayfield Road, unreadable.  It didn't really matter, though, as all of the aficionados knew where it was.

I learned of it from a colleague during my first year of teaching at a high school.  He lived not far from there and, one day when our faculty lounge conversation turned to jazz, invited me to hear his brother-in-law's band play there. 

"What's it called?", I asked.
"The House of Swing"
"Where is it?"
He smiled and said, "It's where jazz is king."

Lou Kallie was the owner/operator/bartender/disk jockey/master of ceremonies of the biggest of the small jazz clubs of the Mid-West.  In terms of floor space, I doubt that it made it much past 1000 square feet.  But, on live music Fridays and Saturdays, it would host as many people as it could hold [roughly two people for every square foot] and, for the young musicians of the area, it was the Cotton Club, Birdland, and the Aragon Ballroom all wrapped up as one.

Kallie was a jazz drummer who had worked with many of the small bands that toured the Midwest from Chicago to Cleveland, playing the ballrooms and small clubs in places like Detroit, Toledo, and Indianapolis. He once played with a big name orchestra. When tapping out the rhythm to "Tangerine" night after night got dull, he bought an old Irish bar, mostly to house his collection of jazz records and related accessories, installed a turntable, and opened the doors.

In addition to serving as the godfather of Cleveland-area jazz, Lou's most spectacular contribution was his record collection; in the late 70's it numbered somewhere around 15,000 volumes, all housed on shelving surrounding Lou's turntable in the center of what space was available between the storage area and the restrooms.  On the nights when there wasn't live music, Lou would sit from around from 5pm until 2am playing from his collection, looping together themes in the music selections that made sense only to him, and talking about jazz in all of its forms and styles to anyone who desired the conversation. 

There are two things for which I thank him.  First, he introduced me to the music of Art Pepper.  Second, he gave me the best advice ever about playing in a small club.

"When the power goes out, and it always does in those small places, just keep playing.  It'll come back on sooner or later and that way you won't have to drop any songs from your set." 

That latter bit of advice rescued me time and again during my playing days, and also served as the basis of a pretty good sermon.  Once, I think it saved me from being trampled in a small club fire.

Lou Kallie died suddenly in the mid-1990's at the age of 67.  His widow and son still run the House of Swing and still host live music and play Lou's record collection every night.  They probably feel they must, as Lou's ashes are sitting on a shelf behind the bar, as if making sure that everything is at it should be.

Jim Steranko

Originally published on November 16, 2012 

It isn’t uncommon for young people to become bored or unfulfilled with their first career.  After all, it is during that first career that we learn to refine our strengths and reverse, or at least identify, our weaknesses.  Often, during that process, one realizes that the original career has been outgrown and new challenges are desired.

Now, imagine that your first career is that of escape artist.  Yes, just like Houdini or someone.  In addition to that pursuit, you also dabble in magic and fire eating.  Yet, somehow that isn’t enough; the niche you seek is still elusive.  So, you become a musician, a rock and roll guitarist, even befriending early rockers like Bill Haley, and that still doesn't seem to be it.

Then, one day, after experimenting with some free-lance work as an artist for an advertising agency and a third-rate comic book company, you are approached by the publisher of the fastest growing, and increasing popular, “intellectual” comic book company, Marvel.  Suddenly, being an escape artist seems rather bland.

It was as if someone handed Jim Steranko a multi-million dollar toy.  He served as an assistant to some of the leading, and most innovative, comic book artists of the 1960’s, was given a rather minor title on which to work as both artist and writer, and then took comic book art and storytelling to a level that had not been imagined.  Although it may not seem so to those who have never experienced high-minded graphic novels and their manner of re-working and re-imagining classic archetypes and tropes, the moment that comics made a jump into the realm of literature was with the advent of Steranko in the late 1960's.

[Steranko's story may sound familiar to those who read Michael Chabon's novel, The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, which was on the New York Times' list of bestsellers and won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction back in 2001; Steranko was the inspiration for one of the protagonists.  Clearly, I'm not the only one to find his life and art interesting.]

An example of a pre-Steranko comic book panel

Post-Steranko

While he started cautiously, he soon began to take elements from the burgeoning synthesis of surrealism and op-art, images familiar to the fans of Peter Max and Andy Warhol, and created something that had never been seen before.  Even to an eleven-year-old member of the Marvel fan club, it was clear that, as innovative as those comics had been, this was something shockingly new.  What was a minor title became a sensation; and its artist the one that was always sought out at the corner pharmacy’s comic book section.

Here are some samples from his work on the Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD and Captain America comic books graphic novels.  In the mid- to late 1960's, there was nothing else like it:

Bonus: He was the artist for the story boards for Raiders of the Lost Ark.  How neat is that?

He didn’t stay with one comic title very long, but continued to serve as an artist, writer, and inspiration to all subsequent writers and artists in the milieu.  The reason that he remains in my memory is that he revealed just how accessible art in all of its forms could be; and how an embrace of the new could inform even the most tired of forms.

More of him may be read and, more importantly, seen at this website.

(Guitar + Surfboard) x Hurricane = Our Hero

‘I Ain’t Afraid Of Dying’: Jimmy Buffett Goes Surfing In South Carolina As Hurricane Florence Approaches

Humans > Algorithms

What happens when you let computers optimize floorplans

No Wonder University Faculty Prefer Socialism. It's the Perfect System for Petty Dictators.

It is not news that being a graduate student, particularly in the humanities, means working for a pittance, often with no job security, let alone benefits. Even at the most prominent institutions, the salary of a teaching assistant does not cover the basic cost of living—a full graduate student salary at Duke doesn’t even pay a “living wage” in Durham, N.C. 

But the fact that one is no institutional check on the whims of senior professors who think of themselves as rock stars in need of an entourage (more Cher than Plato) makes life much worse. There are so few jobs for young academics—even the ones who are coming out of elite universities—that a single bad word from an adviser can mean the end of a career. Just as in the communist and socialist regimes that academics so admire, the universities all have an elite class at the top (permanently installed thanks to tenure), while the masses scurry around trying their best not to upset the rulers, lest they lose their livelihood. Maybe capitalist bosses are pigs too, but at least one isn’t subject to their moral preening as well as their abusive behavior.

I regret to hear this, as my own days as a professor's graduate "dogsbody" were humane and pleasant, but he was a practicing Christian and there aren't many of those left on campuses anymore.

By the Way, the World's Forest Cover is GROWING

Global land change from 1982 to 2016

Take that, you nature-hysterics who sit indoors playing video games.  An increase of 7.2% is significant and equivalent to 1.5 million miles of forest.

A Pungent Observation

Rather than an issue of sexism, the recent contretemps at the U.S. Open highlights the true disparity in 21st century culture.

Namely, a millionaire violated three clear rules of the game, played two garbage sets of tennis, is awarded over 2 million dollars and social media support, then claims victimhood.

A nobody tennis umpire gets booed for correctly enforcing the rules of the game, is name-called and yelled at, and is paid 600 bucks.  Using our contemporary neo-Marxist logic, he's the victimizer.

The elites need not follow rules, the normals have no recourse but to be abused.

Apres moi, le deluge.

A Pungent Recollection

I wonder if Dan Rather is missing the days when he used to strap himself to a phone pole to report on a hurricane.

I'm Particularly Proud to Have Been a Part of This

American Dunkirk:A shining light in our darkest hour

Whenever my attitude about the human race darkens, I remember what a gang of strangers, civilian and military, were able to do together on that day.

It's Politics, Not Swimwear Options

Viewership for Miss America 2019 plunges 23% after swimsuit portion is cut

I suppose it's easy to blame something superficial for a business disaster.  As stated in a post below, when those in charge are more interested in impressing their peer group rather than their customers, and do so in a scolding, condescending, and morally "superior" manner, the customers will lose interest very quickly.

The prosaic expression for this is, "Get Woke; Go Broke".

Consider when The Episcopal Church decided, in the wake of the Vietnam and Civil Rights era, to become a moral voice not just for things eternal, but in regards to secular ideology as well, even openly taking sides in presidential and other elections.  The Church lost two-thirds of its membership.

People want to learn of Jesus and do so in an atmosphere of acceptance.  So far, that acceptance has been extended only to those whose thoughts and words correspond to the consensus of the church leadership.  God forbid that someone openly admit that they voted for Trump or something equally outrageous.  They may be permitted a seat in the pews, especially if they donate, but they will be gossiped about, and sometimes even ridiculed, by their clergy.  It's a distasteful practice and regrettably very common; it causes me to wonder if the clergyperson's interest is in devotion to the Lord or in exercising petty power over other people.

More and more often, as I listen to my younger and/or newer colleagues, I realize it's the latter.

Ceci est une excellente observation

There was an intellectual difference, also. French intellectual life was far more oriented to theoretical rather than practical knowledge.... In its economic attitudes, the U.S. elite is also 18th Century French. It sees essentially no limit to its ability to make economically damaging regulations if some pet cause is at stake. It takes a far greater interest in the theoretical possibility of global warming a century hence and in theoretical dangers to the environment from coal extraction than in the practical problems of generating electricity from wind power on a calm day or from solar power on a cloudy day.

Whether in education, government, media, or, increasingly, business, it doesn't matter what the client/student/customer/consumer wants or needs or can afford.  What matters is how those in charge appear to their peer group.

The author makes the comparison to 18th century France, and it's apt.  However, speaking not as an economist, I also see a parallel with the priestly class of 1st century A.D./C.E. Palestine.  In either case, the end can be abrupt and unpredictable.

The South Yorkshire Constabulary Also Monitor "Non-Crime".

Was 1984 a "how-to" manual for these people?

In addition to reporting hate crime, please report non-crime hate incidents, which can include things like offensive or insulting comments, online, in person or in writing. Hate will not be tolerated in South Yorkshire. Report it and put a stop to it #HateHurtsSY pic.twitter.com/p2xf6OLoQZ

— SouthYorkshirePolice (@syptweet) September 9, 2018

I enjoy false compassion as much as the next person, but aren't there "crime crimes" in the Dales?

By the way, thank you, Gramps, for leaving the U.K. and coming to the U.S.A.

A Pungent Realization

I'm convinced this "millionaire as victim" narrative from the U.S. Open is part of a conspiracy to make me watch tennis.  Yeah, nah.

The Wages of Socialism

Officials destroying crosses, burning bibles in China

Maybe It was the Russians

It’s shameful what US Open did to Naomi Osaka

The media's preferred person didn't win, thus busting the narrative.  Time for a sustained tantrum.

This Week's Long Read

What We Have Here Is Failure To Educate

Although, to be fair, sometimes students ask apparently thick questions out of an absence of self-confidence rather than ignorance.

Ah, Those Free-Thinking Academics

Academic Activists Send a Published Paper Down the Memory Hole

Rule #1 in University Life: Never break a narrative, no matter how inaccurate it may be.

Meanwhile, My Physician Can't Take an Accurate Blood Pressure Reading

Physician Solves Mystery of Mona Lisa's Smile While Waiting in Louvre Line

Of Course

Pluto should be reclassified as a planet, experts say

This Week's Jack Kerouac Reference

It's a corker.  See #6.

The top 10 male fragrances for fall

"I'd like to smell like a dissipated alcoholic, please", said no one, ever.

No Kidding. Most Admistrative Jobs in Higher Ed. are Scams.

New Study Finds Zero Evidence That Hiring a Chief Diversity Officer Produces More Diversity on Campus

Related:  University demotes Title IX coordinator in midst of lawsuit claiming she’s anti-heterosexual

I Think This is Satire; Who Knows, Anymore?

Pope to Purge Priests Who Drink from Plastic Straws

The Perils of Ecumenism

U.S. Muslims Increasingly Harassed for Working With Jewish Groups, Activists Say

Ocean Clean-Up Day is Coming

For those interested who live anywhere in the coastal U.S., there will be an international beach clean-up held on September 15.  An interactive map is available to help one find the clean-up activity nearest to them, or nearest to their favorite beach.

This is a Little Extreme, but Gives an Interesting Perspective on How Political Marketing is Shaped These Days

Marvel's (and DC's, too) sales keep falling, year by year, and more and more comic book shops keep shuttering, unable to sell the dreck that these onetime titans used to sell by the literal hundreds of thousands. 

Now only a couple of books sell 100,000 reliably, and most "hit" books sell around 30,000. Many sell 8,000 to 10,000 copies a month. The line at which comic books used to be cancelled for low sales was around 60,000 in Jim Shooter's day.

We must all have the same thoughts; We must all use the same words.

Archaeological Bad News

Rio's 200-year old National Museum hit by massive fire

Approximately 20 million artifacts will have been lost or damaged by the time the fire is over.

Bubba, There May Be a Greater Emergency for You to Address

Pope calls plastics littering oceans an ‘emergency’

This Week's Long Read

John Coltrane and the End of Jazz

Well, So Much for the Gospel of Reconciliation

Meghan McCain rips Trump at father’s memorial service

I guess I wouldn't care if they were doing this anywhere other than an Episcopal cathedral.

Wut?

The Episcopal News Service has disabled comments on its website. Here's their rationale:

"...increasingly, some voices have come to dominate the discussion, which at times has strayed from the stories themselves into theological and ideological arguments."

Yeah, who would expect theological arguments on a denominational webpage?

Again, the church's apparent motto is, "We all must have the same thoughts; we all must use the same words." It appears that some folks are violating that carefully constructed chimera*.

There are no theological/ideological arguments permitted in the church!  Also, there's no fighting in the war room!**

If the concern is about theological/ideological arguments, then who was it that originally injected those into Episcopal Church discourse?  Wait, wait, don't tell me.  Was it...The Episcopal Church?

When you launch a torpedo, always be aware that it can circle back on you.

*A thing that is hoped or wished for but in fact is illusory or impossible to achieve; synonyms: illusion, fantasy, delusion, dream, daydream, pipe dream, figment of the/one's imagination, castle in the air, mirage.

**Classical film reference.