Wow, check out this prayer from the Orthodox matins service for the fifth week of Lent:
I am like the man who fell among thieves, O Master of all, for I have fallen among my sins and have been cruelly wounded by them. Yet leave me not without healing, O Lord who camest not from Samaria but from the pure Virgin. Jesus, Name that means salvation, have mercy upon me.
More here.
Over at the Lenten Ascent blog, my friend Elena is not just reflecting on Dante's Purgatorio, she's couching her reflections in sonnet form.
Due to this post, I am now going to be on the alert after Easter for Easter egg dyes at 90% off. Apparently you can use them to dye things other than eggs.
I don't know if Britney Spears does have a mental disorder, or if fame is just really corrosive, but I found this a (mostly) compassionate and thought-provoking essay about her and the odd path her career and life have taken. (Language warning, especially if you venture into the comment section.) I read this and the SAHM-mom-I'm-the-same-age-as-her part of me says, "huh," but the author part tilts her head and says, "hmmm . . ." and starts trying to understand and plots start spinning in my head.*
Now, onto good music stuff, have you heard this woman's voice? She reminds me of Ella Fitzgerald (and the drum+water glasses thing is cool too):
Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell
*This might be terrible of me. I realize that.
3 comments:
Oh, hon, I don't think it's terrible of you at all. Writers are like psychologists: we are students of human nature. If you didn't start thinking about how someone's personality issues would impact their lives and their relationships, you could never write a good story.
That was a compelling article. I definitely feel we as a society need to back off. Maybe we have too much time on our hands so we discuss things that shouldn't be everyday topics of conversation. Sort of like news overload.
Britney Spears has achieved a near-perfect union of form and content. We know that words that she lip-synchs aren't her own, but they nonetheless ring with a necessary truth, because the songs are about the (very real and compelling) pathos of a little girl turned into a performing puppet for men to ogle. The very fact that they aren't her words is part of their meaning and power.
Her music was like a syllogism, establishing her with absolute deductive certainty as the perfect embodiment of a particular vision of femininity.
And now, as her life plays out, we can't stop watching, because ultimately, the story isn't hers, but Eve's.
Anyway... I think there's fodder for a fantastic novel somewhere in there--you should see where it goes, Jessica!
Thank you, Tienne. It's such a strange paradox: people who are famous usually sought the fame, and that involves a loss of privacy. But it seems like there should be - I don't know - privacy that is okay to give up (i.e., you can choose to give up your right to go to Starbucks w/o being photographed) and privacy that no one should give up (i.e., details of your relationships, health, etc.). I don't know though.
And, Elena, it seems that you should write that book! Or at least that poem. The parallel you see there between her and Eve is fascinating, and now I want to read a piece of literature that tells that story!
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