Sure, we can talk about excellence. But we shouldn’t accept as fact the idea that we can rank the worth of a piece of art. That is a fiction itself, a fundamental untruth.
Can we ultimately trust the smirking ones in our midst, the sarcastic with a clever quip for our every move, for each vulnerable moment?
Many topics of great import were discussed at the meeting of the U.S. bishops. But they missed the mark on bingo, confession and whether cats possess prevenient grace.
That heartbreaking baseball defeat seeming to distill and crystallize all of it; pointing to something so bleak, sad and hopeless tucked into the fabric of everything.
Did the singer-songwriter era come about specifically to fill a demand by retreat directors for a poignant soundtrack to accompany the spiritual epiphanies of 16-year-olds?