contretemps

Life gets very early, but the day doesn’t begin so early that I’m completely off my rocker. But, early this morning, about the time the newspaper carrier bonks Linda’s PCNH against 7H door, I read two things online then went elsewhere meaning to return. One was Anu Garg’s word "contretemps" for today, the other was an article - - neither of which I can find now, I don't recall punching "delete" which makes me half, no, ten-percent, doubt my sanity - - about scientists receiving an award and commenting that the earth is one maniacal rant and impulsive stupidity from self-destruction. I can’t find those now, must have pressed “delete,” but …

Last evening celebrating grandson Ray's 30th birthday with laws, in-laws and outlaws at Gulf Coast Burger Company PCB, my first margarita in forty years

At any event, contretemps (yes, “contretan”) is interesting, and nasal French pronunciation of slurring off word endings though not as interesting as German or Russian or Hebrew or Greek that I’d love to be fluent reading and especially conversing in. But especially am I aware of living in an age of profoundly stupid insanity ruled by the mothers of all imbecilic narcissists backed by trembling sycophants, and indeed either idiot’s impulsive knee-jerk will end all that is as far as the eye can see. If future analysts are interested in assigning guilt and blame, which we love to do but which by then will be pointless, they will have to say that humans should have looked in the gardenia mirror: it will have been your fault and will have been done in your name, by your electoral choice, in an age of certitudinous subhumans vomiting ethics into the rubbish bin before heading for the polls. Today, for instance, will be the most informing day in American history since we woke up on Wednesday morning, 20161109 ho anaginoskown noeito. 

Looking at the gospel reading for upcoming Advent3B, the latest narrative of all four canonical evangelists damning with faint praise the Wild Man of the Desert’s messianic chair competition by having he himself personally disclaim. Renunciation begun by Mark, beautifully and elaborately told by Luke, and now Gospel John’s (it was actually Lazarus) good spell that will be crowned the next day when John Baptist acclaims the Lamb of God, Gospel John’s beginning to end theme that turns out as poignant as the annunciation scene that has a crucifix hanging subtly in the shadows behind Mary as the angel beguiles her so persuasively; or in the heavens above and beyond the multitude of heavenly hosts. We won't read it in Advent, but tucked quietly among his masterpieces, "Ἴδε ὁ ἀμνὸς τοῦ θεοῦ ὁ αἴρων τὴν ἁμαρτίαν τοῦ κόσμου," the Lamb of God is Gospel John's ultimate "gotcha."

John 1:6-8,19-28

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.

This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’” as the prophet Isaiah said. Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing.

The next day, ...