Closing credits (2017)
Zero degrees, Fahrenheit. “Feels like −11°,” says the Weather Channel. Plenty snowy, too.
No heat in the church building, so tomorrow’s service is canceled. I’m glad Karin gets two full days off (the 31st and the 1st).
And so ends 2017. This is my hundredth entry of the year.
For providing material to discuss, I wish to thank:
Karin.
The kitties, Jasper and Ziva.
All the soccer players.
The weather.
Kazuo Ishiguro.
Bertrand Russell.
Russell (the dog).
My other family members.
My tutees.
The LimeBikes of South Bend.
The fire department of South Bend, for turning us out of our first marital dwelling. (That building has been demolished. There’s a vacant lot where once was so much love.)
The church camp.
President Lenín Moreno.
President Donald Trumpie.
ProQuest, for storing many dissertations.
The State of Wisconsin.
Brianna and other in-laws.
The Bee Gees, for singing “Fanny.”
The Isle of Man.
Wilkie Collins.
Flashman.
The Irish. I didn’t blog about them, but they figured prominently in what I read and watched on TV. A nod, also, to the Scottish (it goes without saying that I was obsessed with the English and the Australians). I wonder if 2018 will be the year of the Russians.
I hardly saw any new movies. The most I did was to catch up on the offerings of the last decade. Two standouts were It Follows (2014) and Man on Wire (2008). Tonight I saw Nerve (2016), which was a cut above most of what gets released nowadays. (It strikes me that all three of these movies supply a good dose of existential dread.) I did watch a lot of TV. I spent many happy hours immersed in Broadchurch, Midsomer Murders, and Shetland – British crime shows – and in Rake, which is about lawyers and politicians in New South Wales. (I was transfixed, if not happy, watching The Fall, another British crime show.) Of these, I urge everyone to try out Rake; as one reviewer puts it, beneath its farcicality it’s about how to be good. Man on Wire I also unreservedly recommend. It’s about how sometimes a person’s calling has nothing to do with being good, but with doing one beautiful and useless thing.
Good night!
No heat in the church building, so tomorrow’s service is canceled. I’m glad Karin gets two full days off (the 31st and the 1st).
And so ends 2017. This is my hundredth entry of the year.
For providing material to discuss, I wish to thank:
Karin.
The kitties, Jasper and Ziva.
All the soccer players.
The weather.
Kazuo Ishiguro.
Bertrand Russell.
Russell (the dog).
My other family members.
My tutees.
The LimeBikes of South Bend.
The fire department of South Bend, for turning us out of our first marital dwelling. (That building has been demolished. There’s a vacant lot where once was so much love.)
The church camp.
President Lenín Moreno.
President Donald Trumpie.
ProQuest, for storing many dissertations.
The State of Wisconsin.
Brianna and other in-laws.
The Bee Gees, for singing “Fanny.”
The Isle of Man.
Wilkie Collins.
Flashman.
The Irish. I didn’t blog about them, but they figured prominently in what I read and watched on TV. A nod, also, to the Scottish (it goes without saying that I was obsessed with the English and the Australians). I wonder if 2018 will be the year of the Russians.
I hardly saw any new movies. The most I did was to catch up on the offerings of the last decade. Two standouts were It Follows (2014) and Man on Wire (2008). Tonight I saw Nerve (2016), which was a cut above most of what gets released nowadays. (It strikes me that all three of these movies supply a good dose of existential dread.) I did watch a lot of TV. I spent many happy hours immersed in Broadchurch, Midsomer Murders, and Shetland – British crime shows – and in Rake, which is about lawyers and politicians in New South Wales. (I was transfixed, if not happy, watching The Fall, another British crime show.) Of these, I urge everyone to try out Rake; as one reviewer puts it, beneath its farcicality it’s about how to be good. Man on Wire I also unreservedly recommend. It’s about how sometimes a person’s calling has nothing to do with being good, but with doing one beautiful and useless thing.
Good night!