The internet may be a gift from God,
As the Pope says, a utility
We can manipulate but not see,
Neither tangible nor abstract, an odd
Reality we can demonstrate
But not touch, invisible as space
But informing all around us. Like grace?
Something we use but never really understand.
At meetings now, before our working day begins,
We sit with our heads bowed and stare,
Backlit breviaries in hand,
Rocking in a pantomime of prayer.
—Patrick Duddy
How to Write a Russian Novel
The Prodigal of Leningradby daniel taylorparaclete press, 256 pages, $21.99 There is of course no generic “Russian…
Knausgaard’s Mephistopheles
Back in college, one of my literature professors once remarked that the first hundred pages of a…
Living with Wittgenstein
In the autumn of 1944, Ludwig Wittgenstein noticed a young doctoral student in attendance at his lectures…