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Incarnate Worship

In the first, surreal weeks of the lockdowns of 2020, we all marveled at how COVID had hit at just the right time. Thanks to our Silicon Valley saviors, we had the perfect technologies to shift all “nonessential” activities and gatherings into virtual space. Zoom, which few of us had heard of in . . . . Continue Reading »

All We Need Is Everything

In November 1945, Jacques Maritain wrote a letter to his friend Étienne Gilson in which he complained about “the integralists in Quebec” who were accusing him of “neo-­liberalism, neo-individualism,” and “­neo-­Pelagianism.” Maritain was particularly frustrated because he saw the . . . . Continue Reading »

Transgenderism: Escaping Limits

The progressive imagination envisions a limitless future. Karl Marx thought that modern industrial production marked a new epoch in human history. Amid explosive growth during the industrial revolution, he thought we were on the cusp of material abundance. Marx argued that if we rejected the . . . . Continue Reading »

Architecture of Repair

Although Christopher Alexander, who died this year on March 17, was officially an architect, the significance of his life lay in the challenge he posed to architecture. In a sense, he did not believe that -architects were necessary. Put a small group of people on a building site, give them materials . . . . Continue Reading »

Painting Over the Growth Chart

I had to squint to notice them. The linesthat bicker up to door jamb in the kitchen— a notch for every year, or half-a-year,depending on how much the kids had grown. A coat of paint is all it takes and ifit’s not like new, it’s good enough for now. Any sign they ever lived here is blotted . . . . Continue Reading »

The Wheel, The Wheel

Sixteen and a half with a brand new driver’slicense in my wallet, driving my father’s’47 two-toned old clunky Pontiac, I turnedleft off Hempstead Turnpike when a car swimsshark-like in front of me and I’m twistingthe steering wheel left right when somehowthe wheel takes over, spinning this . . . . Continue Reading »

Possum

On feet bare like a desert saint’s, it padsacross the porch and toward the dry cat foodmy wife pours out for strays. It doesn’t scarewhen I stomp, bellow, toss a pebbleat its rump, just hisses at me, geezerly,and keeps on chewing. Eyes like little radiodials and fur like coal snow, smog sky, or . . . . Continue Reading »

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