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    October 24, 2014

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    Friday
    BYCU It's not often that I read something at Slate and say, "Rat own!" But this guy pretty much nails it, even if he doesn't go quite far enough in my opinion: Don't Say Goodbye. He advocates a thing called "ghosting":
    Ghosting—aka the Irish goodbye, the French exit, and any number of other vaguely ethnophobic terms—refers to leaving a social gathering without saying your farewells. One moment you’re at the bar, or the house party, or the Sunday morning wedding brunch. The next moment you’re gone. In the manner of a ghost.
    Back in my more youthful years, I was a master of drunken ghosting. I'd be at the bar, over-imbibing, then go to the bathroom and, while standing there, think to myself, "I've had enough. Time to go." I'd then leave without announcement and walk the two blocks or two miles to my home. I thought it was my "thing," but I read years later in Modern Drunkard Magazine that it's a common magic vanishing act pulled off by drunks all over the land (alas, I couldn't find that article at MDM while writing this post). Anyway, the Slate writer says ghosting should be acceptable, even if you're not drunk:
    Goodbyes are, by their very nature, at least a mild bummer. They represent the waning of an evening or event. By the time we get to them, we’re often tired, drunk, or both. The short-timer just wants to go home to bed, while the night owl would prefer not to acknowledge the growing lateness of the hour. These sorts of goodbyes inevitably devolve into awkward small talk that lasts too long and then peters out. We vow vaguely to meet again, then linger for a moment, thinking of something else we might say before the whole exchange fizzles and we shuffle apart. Repeat this several times, at a social outing delightfully filled with your acquaintances, and it starts to sap a not inconsiderable portion of that delight. Let’s free ourselves from this meaningless, uncomfortable, good time–dampening kabuki. People are thrilled that you showed up, but no one really cares that you’re leaving.
    Amen to that. I've thrown many parties over the years, and it's never, not once, crossed my mind that someone ought to come seek me out and say good-bye. Indeed, it would've been a hassle for me to say good-bye constantly as I constantly tried to re-fill my cup. The writer says it would be inappropriate to ghost at a party of fewer than ten. He might be right, but I disagree. Fewer than three, yes, because then you're leaving your wife at the table by herself (which, to the best of my recollection, I've never done), but with nine people at a party? I think you can ghost, especially if it's late and it's drunken ghosting. If 11.11% of the party leaves, that's no big deal. So where would I draw the line? I'd say fewer than four, but each circumstance is different. If it's you, your wife, and another couple, you can't ghost by yourself, and if you ghost with your wife, it's the same as ghosting with fewer than three, so the number is fewer than five. If you're the designated driver in the Amish hauler, the number is fewer than thirteen: which is how many an Amish hauler typically holds. If you're the guest of honor, the number might be fewer than twenty, depending on the occasion, the lateness of the hour, and precedent (I've ghosted at my own parties, albeit involuntarily, while a lot of people were still there; no one took offense and, indeed, were, I'm assured, quite entertained by it). Regardless of the correct number, you can also, as the writer suggests, "set up" the ghosting ahead of time: tell your host upon arriving, "I'll say goodbye now, even though I plan on being here for a long time, because I don't like goodbyes." I've done that. I've never once had anyone remotely take offense. Anyway, my heartfelt thanks to the writer. He has, hopefully, done all of us a public service by getting rid of a form of politeness that has, in my opinion, run its course. Please pass along his message or this post.

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    BYCUish Pics/Tweets
    October 23, 2014

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    Rominations
    Ruminations on the Fall of Rome The bottom line is: Everything that makes a European different from the rest of mankind was originally peculiar to the Roman Empire or is demonstrably derived from something peculiar to it. This is seen in material things: wheeled traffic; our building materials, brick, glass, mortar, cut-stone; our cooking, our staple food and drink; in forms, the arch, the column, the bridge, the tower, the well, the road, the canal; in expression, the alphabet, the very words of most of our numerous dialects and polite languages, the order of still more, the logical sequence of our thought; implements: the saw, the hammer, the plane, the chisel, the file, the spade, the plough, the rake, the sickle, the ladder. It is also seen in our institutions: the divisions and the sub-divisions of Europe, the parish, the county, the province, the fixed national traditions with their boundaries, the emplacement of the great European cities, the routes of communication between them, the universities, the parliaments and congresses, the courts and their jurisprudence. All these things spring from Rome. It is our well-spring, and the Catholic Church was the soul of this well-spring as it flowed into the Middle Ages.

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    October 22, 2014

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    Grand Rapids, Michigan

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    Humorous

    GKC Wednesday
    Background: When I was the editor of Gilbert Magazine, I was responsible for the "Tremendous Trifles" column. It was occasionally hard to find a sufficient amount of interesting GKC material to fill the page, so John Peterson sent me a file full of Chesterton ancedotes. They were idiosyncratic, historical, and Chestertonian. He gave me permission to use them here. I hope y'all find them as interesting as I have over the years. Most of them have never been published. Chesterton Short(s) In September of 1909, Vivian Carter reviewed Chesterton's new book George Bernard Shaw and concluded that "Shaw and Chesterton are one and the same person." The tall, thin, and abstemious Shaw, she revealed, kept a secret cellar in which he could quickly remove his false whiskers and Jaeger tweeds, and as quickly don padding, cloak, and pince-nez, in order to emerge as the self-indulgent GKC enjoying the cafes of Fleet Street. Thomas Leitch suggests that Carter's amusing fancy gave Chesterton the inspiration for "The Duel of Dr. Hirsch," a Father Brown story published in 1914. [The Critical Judgments, p. 210-11; The Dictionary of Literary Biography, vol. 70, p. 74]

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    October 21, 2014

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    Indian Summer in the Neighborhood

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    All Manner of Things
    Belinda’s Brain
    Bethune Catholic
    Betty Duffy
    Book Reviews and More
    Catholic Blogs
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    Get Blogs
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    Godspy
    Happy Catholic
    Mark Shea
    Mere Comments
    Michelle Reitemeyer
    More Last Than Star
    National Catholic Register
    New Advent
    Phat Catholic
    Pillar and Fire
    Post Modern Papist
    PowerBlog
    Pro Ecclesia
    Quaffs and Quibbles
    Reasoned Audacity
    Reconnaissance of the Western Tradition
    Roman Catholic Info
    Ruri et Orbi
    Scheske at Catholic Exchange
    Scholium
    Shadow of Diogenes
    Signs of the Times: Salvo Blog
    Some Have Hats
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    St. James Journal
    St. Peter Canisius Apostolate
    Standing on My Head
    Stella Maris
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    Stupid Scholar
    Suicide of the West
    Summa Minutiae
    Taki
    The American Conservative
    The Blue Boar
    The Cafeteria is Closed
    The Crescat
    The Curt Jester
    The Dawn Patrol
    The Drunken Dollar
    The Impractical Christian
    The Inn at the End of the World
    The Michiana Blawg
    The Muniment Room
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    The Saint Wannabe
    The Scratching Post
    The Snoring Scholar
    The Summa Mamas
    The Waffling Anglican
    The Western Confucian
    Things and Stuff
    Thursday Night Gumbo
    Uncovering Orthodoxy
    Victor Lams
    Video Meliora
    Vita Mea
    Vox Nova
    What's Wrong with the World
    With Both Hands
    Within the Garden
    Without Having Seen
    World Wide Words

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