We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. ~Isaiah 64:8

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Rethinking the mundane

I'm in a bit of a cooking funk right now. This just happens to me sometimes - most especially when life is particularly busy, which it is. This also means grocery shopping holds very little appeal for me. Not that it has ever been the highlight of my week, but I can usually find some joy in an hour of quiet contemplation of "Nutritional Labeling", or methods of can stacking, or the delightful variety of apples. (Of course that is when I am able to go alone!)

Well, tonight is the night I HAVE to go to the store. No milk, no bread, ... the cupboard is bare.

Of course it isn't REALLY bare, just my perception of bare. This post today at "Et tu?' blog made me stop about my perceptions...and it made me rethink the mundane.

Hat Tip: PalmTree Pundit

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Aldous Huxley on holiday

***Because my son and some of his young friends occassionally read this blog, I'm putting this disclaimer here: the content of this post may be unsuitable for children. Please, if you are under 18, have your parents read this (and the links) first. Thank you!***

The new travel slogan for Norway has been announced:

"Norway, it's a Brave New World"

Didn't hear that?

Well, that is because I made it up...but it certainly would fit. Here is an excerpt from Huxley's book, Brave New World:

"That's a charming little group," he said, pointing.

In a little grassy bay between tall clumps of Mediterranean heather, two children, a little boy of about seven and a little girl who might have been a year older, were playing, very gravely and with all the focussed attention of scientists intent on a labour of discovery, a rudimentary s**ual game.

"Charming, charming!" the D.H.C. repeated sentimentally.

(...)

From a neighboring shrubbery emerged a nurse, leading by the hand a small boy, who howled as he went. An anxious-looking little girl trotted at her heels.

"What's the matter?" asked the Director.

The nurse shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing much," she answered. "It's just that this little boy seems rather reluctant to join in the ordinary e**tic play...And so I'm taking him in to see the Assistant Superintendent of Psychology. Just to see if anything's at all abnormal."

(...)

For a very long period before Our Ford, and even for some generations afterwards, erotic play between children had been regarded as abnormal (there was a roar of laughter); and not only abnormal, actually immoral (no!): and had therefore been rigorously suppressed.

A look of astonished incredulity appeared on the faces of his listeners. Poor little kids not allowed to amuse themselves? They could not believe it.

Like I said, it would fit.

hat tip: Stand Firm