An awful lot's happened in 2 days or so. Rue McClanahan, most famous for her turn as Blanche Deveraux on The Golden Girls, has died. For the record, that show was and is absolutely hilarious. Most people don't know this, it seems, because unless you are an elderly person or headed there soon, you wouldn't be a natural viewer, or so you would think. But I have watched it somewhat randomly for part of my teenage years and twenties, because like so many things from the 1980's, people my age and slightly older are getting nostalgic, and you can find it if you want (or even if you don't). I'm not sure how many full episodes I've seen; I think 30 or 40 is reasonable. Anyway, I've never failed to laugh at an episode once. [You think everything's funny.--ed.] I don't think I'm just saying that because there was a death. Try it out; it's funny. And you won't have to go to confession or the equivalent, though I won't promise that it's G-rated. Rue's character was a naughty minx, quite frankly, and though that's not good per se, it can be funny.
Surely everyone knows about Armando Galarraga's perfect game that wasn't, when umpire Jim Joyce mistakenly called the runner safe on what would have been the final out at first base. No, they shouldn't change it; yes, it really does suck; no, I don't think replay should be expanded, but I'll bet it will. Everyone has been really classy about it; poor Jim has been tearing up for two days. Jeremy Schaap is right: this was a "teachable moment," and it seems like everybody passed.
I'm on page 64 of "The Faith of the Early Fathers" by Jurgens, the first of three volumes. I'll make no other comments but this: Justin Martyr was a great apologist, and he is also a flaming papist. [Sidebar: For the record, I am reclaiming the adjective "flaming" from its normal usage in the semi-affirmative phrase, "flaming homosexual." I am doing this because it seems good to be "flaming" about things that are good, and because I would guess that the current homosexual culture in the stereotypical is about affirmation in the first place, and (though the things mostly affirmed are bad, if the Bible is to be believed) I am about affirmation whenever possible. If I do decide to be a flaming papist, I'm definitely "coming out of the closet" (another great phrase needing unmooring from its origin) in a large way. In fact, however this turns out, I'm throwing a party, and I'm inviting as many of my good friends as I can. And I will play "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross as my entrance music, either to say, "I'm a loud, proud, Catholic" or, "Look at all these various Christians who've been ignoring each other, but they're all my friends." Like I always am, I'll be the mollifying glue that joins people who'd probably despise each other. And yes, though I am not overly fond of "hip-hop," the sample-infused "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems" is partially responsible for my appreciation of the Ross tune. Thanks, Puffy, or P. Diddy, or whatever your name is.]
That's all.
Surely everyone knows about Armando Galarraga's perfect game that wasn't, when umpire Jim Joyce mistakenly called the runner safe on what would have been the final out at first base. No, they shouldn't change it; yes, it really does suck; no, I don't think replay should be expanded, but I'll bet it will. Everyone has been really classy about it; poor Jim has been tearing up for two days. Jeremy Schaap is right: this was a "teachable moment," and it seems like everybody passed.
I'm on page 64 of "The Faith of the Early Fathers" by Jurgens, the first of three volumes. I'll make no other comments but this: Justin Martyr was a great apologist, and he is also a flaming papist. [Sidebar: For the record, I am reclaiming the adjective "flaming" from its normal usage in the semi-affirmative phrase, "flaming homosexual." I am doing this because it seems good to be "flaming" about things that are good, and because I would guess that the current homosexual culture in the stereotypical is about affirmation in the first place, and (though the things mostly affirmed are bad, if the Bible is to be believed) I am about affirmation whenever possible. If I do decide to be a flaming papist, I'm definitely "coming out of the closet" (another great phrase needing unmooring from its origin) in a large way. In fact, however this turns out, I'm throwing a party, and I'm inviting as many of my good friends as I can. And I will play "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross as my entrance music, either to say, "I'm a loud, proud, Catholic" or, "Look at all these various Christians who've been ignoring each other, but they're all my friends." Like I always am, I'll be the mollifying glue that joins people who'd probably despise each other. And yes, though I am not overly fond of "hip-hop," the sample-infused "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems" is partially responsible for my appreciation of the Ross tune. Thanks, Puffy, or P. Diddy, or whatever your name is.]
That's all.
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