Fergus, Weaver of Autistic Webs > Recent Status Updates

JIM BLUDSO OF THE PRAIRIE BELLE
Wall, no! I can’t tell what he lives,
Be case he don’t live, you see;
Least ways, he’s got out of the habit
Of living like you and me.
What have you been for the last three year
That you haven’t heard folks tell..?
- John Hay, former US Secretary of State (ca. 1905)

I’ve got a Special Person
At my daycare, where I’m in.
Her name is Mrs. Something
But we mostly call her Lynn.
Cause Lynn’s the one that shows you
How to Squish a paper cup.
And Lynn’s the one that smells good
When you make her pick you up.

After it snows
I go and lie on things.
I lie on my back
And make snow-angel wings.
I lie on my front
And powder-puff my nose.
I ALWAYS lie on things
Right after it snows.
- Dennis Lee, Canada’s Father Goose,
1974.

‘Come Holy Spirit with wisdom blessed, and in my heart take up thy rest...’ His own little prayer, the only one (the old man) says for himself. It’s short, but if it was answered, he’d be fine, just fine. The other prayers are more like a little chat with the Boss.
- an old Irishman’s cheerful thoughts!

PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST
The one sits shivering in Fortune’s smile,
Taking his joy with bated, doubtful breath.
The other, gnawed by hunger, all the while
Laughs in the teeth of Death.
- Thomas Aldrich, ca. 1890

I don’t want to be demure or respectable.
I was that way, asleep, for years.

Elijah’s dream of his murdered wife:
That night she came to him in a dream.... she was happy...
She offered the cup of her palms to him, and he saw within it a small child, asleep.
‘This is our daughter,’ she said in words that were soundless... she sleeps but her heart is awake....’
Elijah woke with the first light.

I WAKE UP CLOSE TO MORNING
Why do people keep asking to see
God’s identity papers
when the darkness opening into morning
Is more than enough?
...Think of Sheba approaching
the kingdom of Solomon.
Do you think she had to ask,
‘Is this the place?’

Which was the greater miracle, the suspension of natural law for the sake of physical healing, or the conversion of the human heart by absolute love?

THE WHITE STAG
I ha’ seen them ‘mid the clouds on the heather.
Lo! they pause not for love nor for sorrow,
Yet their eyes are as the eyes of a maid to her lover,
When the white hart breaks his cover
And the white wind breaks the morn.

Currently rereading, for the first time since 1986. This man had an incredible, indescribably alert mind!

CINO
(Sun,) Bid thy ‘fulgence bear away care.
Cloud and rain-tears pass they fleet!
Seeking e’er the new-laid rast-way
To the gardens of the sun...
I have sung women in three cities
But it is all one.
I will sing of the white birds
In the blue waters of heaven,
The clouds that are spray to its sea.

There is a LOT of perhaps unnecessary filler in this novel, but on the whole it’s a pleasant enough and very USEFUL and personal look at how permissive trends in America back in the 60’s eventually stifled plain, reverent worship.

This is wonderful reading. The book is suffused with O’Brien’s affable and childlike faith, and takes me back to a time in my own life - as in these descriptions of Assisi - when life, though perhaps cluttered and busy, permitted an ingenuous joy now so foreign to my current open, jarring world of bemused senior citizenry!

Emmanuel Levinas’ view of the world is so dynamically different, yet by its religiosity allows a new kind of ethics to come into being...’what I become in relation to others: The Other allows a human to be opened and not dominated... this mutual experience of awakening changes his attitude of supremacy and replaces it with humility.’

‘Onward to Mordor!’ shouted Billy.
‘Mordor? We’re going to Capri.’
‘A figure of speech, Davy....’

The more a daughter knows the details of her mother’s life - without flinching or whining - the stronger the daughter.

I never liked the appeal to enlightened self-interest. I wanted to love my fellows; I loved the Poor with compassion. I could not be happy unless I shared poverty, lived as they did, suffered as they did.

‘Real suffering is always different from
what we imagine,’ Elijah said... ‘Obedience is the best form of poverty, Billy. I think that is the kind of martyrdom you have been given.’
- Father Elijah, laconic Jewish convert to Catholic monasticism, talking to an old friend from Jerusalem.

A very, VERY good read. O’Brien weaves a compelling tale!

‘We are not defined by our temptations. We are defined by our redemption.’

Now a-fifth of the way through this dark, slow-paced (but gripping) family mystery and exposé of the vast, monolithic mental health care system of post-war times...

Just then she looked up at the cliffs above.... In a tiny crevice... was a single plant. On the stem was one flower, blood red, which glowed....
‘What is your name, little flower...?’
‘My name is Bearing-the-Cost - but some call me Forgiveness.’

Beautiful!

Love this one!