So I got my proposal in at... 11:59 p.m. Exactly. Editing till the very last minute. It was close. The proposal was also shorter than my usual blabla, though there is a limit of 1,000 words and if you go over the electronic thingie stops you. (Computer technology is a wonderful thing when it works.) I logged 733 words and I think that included the title. I love the title and am rather proud of it, but I can't tell you what it is because a blog is a public place. If the paper gets accepted I'll let you know. We are supposed to find out on April 1. Fools that we are.
And now I am going to finish writing my sermon for tomorrow, which is almost done and involves Scarlett O'Hara and the prophet Samuel. The Holy Spirit told me to do it. Seriously. Yes, the man born blind is in the sermon too.
A blessed 4th Sunday in Lent to all you Lenties out there. And to all, peace.
4 comments:
Yes, blogs are public, as I found out.
As for "self-referential silliness" I am going to call you on that whenever I see it, just because I think the concept is BS and is false self-deprecation.
Now, about Scarlett O'Hara--I haven't seen a moment of GWTW in over 10 years, since my ex and I split up (it was her favorite movie), and I was surprised by two things: (1) how Scarlett has that thunderbolt revelation when Ashley admits his forever-love for Melanie (on the surface of the words, I don't believe him) but (2) how emotionally real the whole thing seems if you let it hit you. At "ground level," I don't believe Scarlett's deathbed conversion, even if the deathbed is Melanie's. Her role is overwritten and Vivien Leigh overacted like a sober warm-up for Blanche DuBois. Yet the emotional core of the scenes in the Wilkes house and in what follows is quite intense and emotionally true, even to Scarlett's hammy invocation of Tara and "Tomorrow...is another day!" I sympathize if not empathize with Rhett Butler, if only because this exploitive and smug gentleman reveals himself as vulnerable to being deeply hurt, first by his daughter's terrible death but then by his wife's ongoing emotional betrayal. "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn" is an effective emotional concealment that allows him the final push out the door. Its shock value has long since passed but the pain beneath it is still there. Gable was not the greatest actor in the world but he got that moment perfectly.
Scarlett, BTW, remind me of the Woman At The Well...or she will get there.
I did create a new label called "self" which I use when I am not being silly, but perhaps I should ban that other one, eh? I just used the "self" one above (and have used it before) when talking about my parents' friend's death.
Wait till you hear/read the sermon. Heheh.
Sermons are supposed to be silly because Death is the ultimate silliness. It laughs at us and all we can do is laugh back. Maybe?
What, you want Profound on a Sunday afternoon when I've spent another weekend accomplishing Zilch?
She's so beautiful!
Sorry: carry on.
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