The preface is truly awful. To summarize: This book is important. Celtic things are important. I am important. Do not forget these things, for I teach you. Surely is Ireland closer to Ireland, than India is close to Ireland. Surely: it was once, long ago.

This does not bode well: even for the words of a translator, IMO.

…. And the Introduction is no better: it just goes on and on…. And on, and then goes on some more, for half the book: a man speaking, who knows words, right—though this he does not know, right. He even speaks of “religion”, as though the word meant something to him. Perhaps he could define it. What more could be asked of anyone.

It’s enough to make one want to study Druidry in the RDNA way, right: deposit the books written in the precious old languages in the esteemed waste-to-energy drop-off, and head off to the forest, right—the sort of much-neglected sort of place that probably deserves more to be considered the “real” world than the Christmas Frenzy Shoppe, or certainly the majority of the fucking universities, you know?

…. Embarrassing doesn’t even begin to cover the status of the newly-minted non-cringe Celts and newly-minted non-cringe religious diversity scene—still pretty new in the 90s, really—being used to consolidate what might otherwise have been a parlous condition for piggish tribal males of the paleface way, you know…. Just: every time he plays up this random, piggish rivalry with India, I just want to toss aside my fear of being a self-absorbed, precious pretender, and give myself to Radha, you know.

I mean: where do you get off being surprised that one part of Ireland’s history hasn’t generated as many texts as the common speech of all of India across its whole history: when India has twice the population of EUROPE, and for much of its history, had a higher per capita wealth, right…. Do people sit around wringing their hands about the number of texts from Gujarat, in Gujarati, compared to the endless Latin ditherings of Aquinas?….

Like, where do you get off, being a fucker, right. “Oh, I’m a male…. It’s the way of things.”

…. I mean: Christians are fuckers, generally speaking, don’t get me wrong—and sure, the medieval Christian fetish for Latin could easily be construed as being a problem, right: but I wonder what “a totally independent culture” is right? (“A totally dry ship”, right….).

Like, fuck nationalism. Damn it to, “the hell of the Christians”, as it has been called, right…. And I can sorta get, I don’t know, Vietnamese nationalism in the 60s, right: say in “South Vietnam”, no…. What I can’t get in Irish nationalism in France in the 1990s, right…. It’s like…. Yeah, the Irish community in Paris is just under vicious attack, right…. You think the Egyptians have it bad, wait until you see the reputations some of these bars have, right…. People getting thrown out every night: sometimes it’s even our own kind!….

~Yeah, fuck nationalism….

…. “Unmistakably less significant…. limited to announcing peace and material abundance.”

I expect it: yet sometimes, the arrogance of men is breathtaking, right….

And why is it that men get to rule the world, and get credit for ‘peace and material abundance’ when they seem very often to constrict their activities to spreading fire and death over the face of the earth, and singing a song on the lute, to the beneficence of scholar-cave-poverty—and/or the-earth-is-covered-with-fire-poverty, right?

I mean…. Maybe that’s…. Stupid?

(shrugs) A theory worth investigating, right….

…. His treatment of the Irish mythology about the bright beginning and fiery ending of the world, makes it seem distinctly unappealing: although I cannot tell whether the sense of lack comes from, (a) the mythology itself, but perhaps only in either a particular version, or perhaps, an entire epoch; (b) myself, either in terms of interpretation of what I know, or else my newness in this field of study, or (c) the extremely unsympathetic editor, who’s just…. A lot. Fuck, this kid is a lot….

…. The text itself is over-annotated, (and without the notes and introduction, it would only be thirty short pages: it is a very poor choice to stand alone as a complete modern book, quite possibly), and so I am biased against the text by its man-hysterical over-the-top inferior translation, I have to say that although it is probably over to the side of Christian Druidry, and not what I call special-interfaith religion—Druidism itself seems more like ‘science’ in the generalized pre-modern sense of a course of study, than a term that implies an exact religious provenance, right…. But yeah: it does seem relatively old/nature style, not over-the-top Christianized, which makes me hate the book less, after it’s over-the-top sell, right. (Not that Christians are ‘bad’, right: pace the man-hysteric, right. But yeah: the rules don’t apply to church fellows, right; it’s like, hey man: the rules about genocide were good rules!…. That’s a nice, deep serve, Jesus: very impressive! My return is to eat a vegan Vietnamese sandwich prepared by white people…. I’m worried this might be a quick point! 😧…. Oh, and let me know if EYE ever get any service games, right: I wanna help you out, homie 😹….)

And for a book short enough to be a meditation type book, meditation sentences, it does seem, although less worthwhile for making the subject of a special meditation-study or whatever like the Sefer Yetzirah—although it does have curious background knowledge about an old nature culture, right: it does still seem mostly brief for reasons of not being long, and not quite the sort of endlessly-writable-unwritten-book, like the SY, but…. I don’t know. The difference in quality doesn’t seem as ~absolute~ as the editor oddly somehow makes you think it will be, without his ethnocentric credential-thumping hot air, right…. So yeah: it seems like it could have been worse, right.

…. It’s funny: “Hidden Teachings from ‘The Colloquy of the Two Sages’”—does CJG (and it’s a scream how his name is “Christian”, given his hysterical outbursts at those people: it implies such legalism and materialism to keep it given his views; he could have called himself anything: {obscure Parisian reference} Druid—anything, right?….) actually claim to be drawing out “hidden teachings” from the Colloquy, as opposed to just translating and annotating it, as though it were the minutes of some 19th century Cabinet meeting, or whatever?…. Does he draw from words and hints in the texts to create arguments and draw in personal stories in order to create moral, practical, and speculative theses—all sorts of things—like, gods forbid we be like Christians, right, (when we can be like bureaucratic government ministers, hahaha!), like a Christian commenting on a scriptural passage, or one of these Hindu guys doing something like that: these Indians he “knows so much about”, right, or…. I mean, any kind of religious writing, right. DOES he meditate? What kind of spiritual practice does he have, right? Is his “spiritual practice” reading fucking “Great Irish-Americans, Volume Five”, right?…. I mean: what the fuck, honestly, swear to Gaea….

Anyway.

…. (text) (druids out in a field somewhere) Wow: plants. So fun. What’s this one called?

(annotation) Irish people love to know things: druids and male Irish people, most of all. Put it all together: they knew EVERYTHING, dog.

~Oh, for fuck’s sake: how much bullshit can anyone say! It’s NATURE! It ~matters~! How can you be a bloody, priest of nature, if you cannot wonder at plants, right!…. It’s woodcraft, for God’s sake! What witch or druid with any enviable amount of craft and knowledge whatever, doesn’t have some sense of woodcraft, for fuck’s sake!…. He thinks it’s because they’re IRISH! God, maybe the IRA and the Catholic Church in Cork, and fucking U2 fans in some anonymous part of nowhere: right, it’s all connected…. And it’s NOT nature, right? It’s ‘Ireland’, right…. Ire-what? ~Oh, we don’t get into that, here….

…. Yeah: a lot of times, pure craft/folk, human inventions, right: like cluttering up narratives with lots of random pointless place names, the trad Irish writers seemed to have done that a lot…. I guess Pentateuch and other biblical writers did the same thing. I can’t say it’s endearing, right. Like mental tchotchkes, you know….

…. Bricriu is Loki (and therefore Hermes and Coyote), curious….

…. And yeah: they trade veiled invective, which ends with a feigned customary, ‘but I mean that in a caring, objective, perfect way: because I’m a perfect person’, you know.

Lots of vain words traded between learned men, in any age we know of, right?

…. (unfollows girl who thinks that being Jewish means wishing that Palestinians would stop being a pill and just stop existing: but it’s ok, because they love queer people, and gets support from the church fellows who hate queer people…. And also people who hate Muslims!) (goes back his own dubious folk-fellows, right) I wonder who the Irish want to disappear, at this point, right: probably everyone, right: just, everyone, you know…. (chuckles darkly) Ah, nationalists…. I can’t even fucking start with these people, right…. “I’m Jewish: I liked ‘Annie Hall’” “I’m Jewish: I like Cabala [and yes: that is how I spell it: sorry not sorry].” “I’m Jewish: I think that it’s okay to murder Palestinians, because there is no such thing.” (heavy silence) “I’m Irish. I wish that Jewish lore had never come to Ireland.” (another heavy silence) (‘Annie Hall’) “We could have bonded over not liking Christian tyranny.”

…. “That is, white when one praises, black when one satirizes”

That’s funny. And that explains the American folk custom regarding candles and things like that: praise is rewarded, and satire is not allowed—(or at least, it OUGHT to not be allowed!)—as is true in any non-totalitarian state, right, (or rather, a non-totalitarian state, that has become a little, ‘lax’, right {frowns}).

lol.

…. I wonder how much remains of the knowledge that once existed of Druid astrology, and the Coligny calendar, and things like that. (And I’m not sure where to start with CJG’s smug self-short-circuiting of: “men of my race once knew: all I have to know”, right…. It’s like, {incredulous face} Is that a serious comment?….)

[re: the Coligny calendar, LOL: “one second it’s a blessing: the next it’s already gone…. You don’t want to fall in love!…. You don’t want to fall in love!” I swear, to be honest, I am kinda proud that I token the country boys, right: but this actually IS a good song, right…. If it’s a country song, but it’s in a minor key, right: like does that break the rules of the Matrix, right? Is it white for praise, or black for satire, right?…. And I can kinda get it, to be honest: not about someone I actually KNOW, lol—LOL—not my friend/little sis; or my family, right: but there IS this girl who is SO pretty, and although today it didn’t make me feel—convicted, anymore, in that ironic sense: like in the religious sense~ Brunette Freya coyly smiling from heaven and whispering: “so you don’t need anybody?”: it is like a song, like, the feeling comes when you’ve done something else with life, right…. Although you don’t always end up together: this girl is not like the…. Like, she’s not a character in a song, right: she has such substance, and I know what makes her safe or at least, that it doesn’t involve “friendship” at work…. These ads are wild; they’re better than a fortune cookie…. I hope it’s not Brick-Roo and his lies, right…. (Bricriu, right)…. I mean, I no longer feel the same sense that Freya (not the employee of the month from last year, right: FREYA), is trying to poke me in the eye because I slighted Her power, right…. Guilt is the wrong word: but it’s funny…. Pride is a funny word, and so is un-pride, right…. But yeah: she’s not any less pretty, for being completely off-limits: it’s SO ~~funny~~ omfg…. “You don’t want to fall in love…..”…. But yeah…. The Coligny calendar, right: one second it’s a blessing, the next it’s already gone…. Well, I guess you shouldn’t be too quick to “know” that something is “praise” or “satire”, right…. You don’t wanna fall in love…. You don’t wanna fall in love…. It’s funny: three possible meanings, at least, (it’s a triad!); (a) with him (wish); (b) in general (self-preservation teaching), or (c) with me (“observation”)…. The Wheel of Fortune, right….]

The actual brag-y banter, “(I am a) sword of singing; (I am the) ardor of fire”, could be used as affirmations, right—although these specific ones don’t land as seeming cool/empowering for me. It is curious how it implies a similar practice with the same goal, but different from vanilla new age affirmations in that they’re more concrete, and often involved with nature, or some other specific thing, or a metaphor more clearly derived from a specific thing, than a more abstract Greek-Indian kind of philosophical quality…. And also, this sort of ‘affirmation’ practice would involve theatric imitation of a specific dramatic/mythic model, right. So that’s a curious idea.

…. “(I am) the hero who explains.”

In other words—I’m a man; I’m a man; I’m a man…. I once knew (vaguely, you know) a mentally ill/mentally handicapped young Haitian-American man, who used to go around saying, (in a state of obliviousness: like, the world didn’t exist for him, right…. He was happy: but he used to sometimes almost get in trouble when we left program to go on field trips, right…. Like, he didn’t know how to bowl right, you know….), “I’m a man; I’m a man; I’m a man.”

Which is funny: because that’s also the main feel for life, that many males who are NOT mentally ill/mentally handicapped young Haitian-American men have, right….

But yeah: it’s funny, you’re reading a book, and people are making banter, or one of them is, right: trying to signal that they ‘like and respect’ the other person, so to speak, but only because of neediness…. Self-promotion…. The felt compulsion to generate noise…. And I kinda roll my eyes without actually doing it….

And then I’m like: but the book I’m reading is nothing except silent noise; there’s no difference, you know…. Except in various details, right. Which side of “David Copperfield” (1850), right…. And then there was that religion that DC/CD was a part of, right…. What was it called again…. Started with a ‘C’…. Ah, slips my mind. I’ll come to me.

But yeah: what ever REALLY ever changes, right?

…. “(I am) the son of Poetry,
Poetry, the daughter of Scrutiny,
Scrutiny, the son of Meditation,
Meditation, daughter of Great Knowing….”

And on and on and on. The length is excessive—ironically, they are kinda long-winded at times, despite producing a book of thirty small pages, right—but yeah: if you’re going to boast, that’s a good one, right.

…. “I am the man who has been and was not born.” ~the Colloquy

“If you label me you negate me.” Kierkegaard

And I don’t really know Soren: but I know that he did not want to be just a generic Dane, European, philosopher…. Or man, even.

But yeah: that’s a very powerful statement, right. Artemis gave birth to me, but she is not my birth-giver. Artemis is my mother, but she gave not birth to me, right.

There’s a time and a place for kinda generic vanilla affirmations, right: I am dependable; I am efficient; I arrive at work on time…. Blah blah blah generic adjectives, blah blah blah, right…. I have a degree in commodity corn agricultural science at Military Empire University of Iowa….

There’s a time and place for that. But it’s nice to dispense with it, right….

Words to remind you…. There of things that cannot be spoken of, right. It’s like that song Ringo sang, right: “‘Could it be….! Any-body?’ ‘I want somebody to love….’” It sounds so vain; it can BE so delusive, right…. But it’s a good song. There no WORD you can use, that would eliminate that possibility, right….

It’s curious the gloss in the original manuscript(s) of this being “Adam”, and it’s hilarious, if not surprising, that CJG argues that this is “not biblical”, but a “Celtic” first man, right…. The “Celtic” theory of universal past, right…. The particular understand of the unconditioned, you know…. The first thing, here, is to note historical provenance, right…. “What are those people?” “That’s a French class.” “OMG—they’re American.” “Er—sure.” “Excellent—I can practice my English….”

Patriotism of a certain kind isn’t unlike how men treat women sometimes, you know: often, you know. Just the pious patronizing…. Quasi-sacrificial…. You know: “She…. (Never a thought for ourselves) Is leaving…. (We gave her most of our lives)….”…. Just the, low-quality shit gifts, you know…. I don’t know what else you’d say, right…. Phony praise…. Without the slightest interest in the actual identity, needs, or strengths or the person or group in question, right….

Phony praise, is it, right….

…. “Everyone’s path will be destroyed (at the end of the world, or whatever).”

I feel like this whole, book-end finale, needs like, a teenage girl who rolls her eyes and walks away, with attitude: and a WWII movie that no one is watching, blasting on a TV, right.

…. And of course, the obligatory, “Here on the left we have the ruins and body parts from the Church Jesus Apocalypse, and on the right, we have the ruins and body parts from the Irish-Pagan-Themed Medieval Lore Apocalypse. You see the difference? You see the differences, right?”

(long drag of a pause, then) Not…., really….

…. A lot of the medieval lore does seem vaguely Christian, if not in a very specific way, right…. A lot of it does seem to reflect the idea that one day the wise elite men who graciously guide society with their “sound doctrine” will be betrayed by numbskulls who “can’t bear” it, right…. There was pagan patriarchy—less intense, it’s true, in the Celtic part of the north, especially, than in the classical south, and even there more conciliatory—at least when it pleased to be—with the more austere and pure “fairness” and “impartial” (yet absolutely male and hopefully celibate) justice, right, which the Christian movement idealized, in the Middle Ages and after…. But yeah, there was pagan patriarchy, with the goddess movement kinda falling away towards the end of antiquity, and there was Christian patriarchy: different, but…. I mean: with the same class and economic structure, (same classist fears, right: the end of the world happens when slobs form mobs, basically), the same relationship with nature/no industrialization for many hundreds of years: the economy may expanded, but very very slowly by modern standards, no ‘nature’ alarm bells, right, and, aside from the hardliners, a certain amount of fossilization of old customs and ways, that to me seems contemptible dead and useless, although, yeah: that’s what I’m talking about, medieval—

You know what: you’re right—let me take care of that, right. this. SECOND: because after all, we wouldn’t want your “mental” job to become too stressful for you, right: we should create a non-stressful environment for staff, right—so that they don’t snap…. I swear, the committees are really riding me today, (along with the gods, and traffic conditions: I swear to God, traffic is ruled by Mercury, right?), and it’s like, (car, then) “Oh, your medicine isn’t free anymore. It costs three dollars. Sorry about that.” Och, aye: but at least I still get to throw a penny down Brigit’s Well, shiver me timbers, Jiminy Cricket. And you know: it’s because the benefits are under new management, laddie: some wealthy, influential person, has to make some small, nagging, inconvenient change—or else they would not be reassured, knowing, that they are valuable. I wouldn’t steal another man’s joy, you know. Or his vacation. (Not what I said, right: not even vaguely.)…. And then I swear by Gaea, I get home, and explaining it to them is like pulling teeth, because some things don’t make sense if you don’t bother to learn my schedule now that they don’t have to drive me around: even though where I work my schedule virtually never changes, right?…. I swear to God: people are so dumb…. You need credentials before you can get this dumb: you really do…. But yeah, “withdrawing support” equals “independence”, right: and now I really should pick my meds so they don’t get hissy over three dollars, right…. It’s like, some people would take “independence” promotion to be expanding people’s skill sets, not ~exclusively~ trimming the things that you’re solid for doing for me so you can go back to playing games on your phone or doing busywork for corporate so that somebody’s cousin can pull in a nice salary, right…. Oh, my my my…. (sighs) It’s kinda a good thing, but…. You know: like how the USA isn’t a prison planet, right—(brightly) that is kinda true…. (darkly) Although meaningless customs and oppressive institutions hem in all of us, hmmm…. (brightly) Let’s celebrate!….

(sighs) But where was I…. But yeah: medieval patriarchy and customs differ from ancient patriarchy and customs, right: but until the post-c.1800 period, when society started throwing off church monopoly over control of customs—church and vocally Christian kings, right: everyone’s a critic of everyone else, in both church and state, but everything was like: either illegal, or, Christian, somehow, right…. As illegal as soccer, as Christian as killing the king’s jealous brother (the heretic! Devil’s spawn!….)…. Right? Church customs and all old customs started to decline, along with the stasis (near-stasis, of course, practical stasis) of humankind’s relationship with the environment, and got replaced with industrialization, and then ecologically- and feminist-leaning ‘pagan’/‘alternative’/‘occult’ movements started bubbling up, over many many decades, to kinda draw inspiration from an very ancient past—since they did things better than we do them now, in many ways: even if circumstances have changed so tremendously—to be a path into a better future, and against the church-dominated old customs of the mainstream past/tradition, right.

Not a whole lot of that is in this book:most vocally near the end with its crescendo of classism, basically. I mean: the end of the world happens when slobs form mobs thesis does have SOME validity, right: I’m not arguing for the inviolable pure nature of the common slob, you know. Sure, of course: one of the things Brendan likes about going home with his parents some weekends is not having to do his chores while he’s away, right. And of course: he doesn’t do them BEFORE he goes away, either, right? Not the day off, nope. Oh god, it would have killed him: it would have sent him into an early grave…. What if it rained? Don’t rain cause suspicious, paranoid Christian’s to melt? It was one of those, metaphysical-defined groups, that that happens to, right…. Dirty Brendan. Just such dirty energy. He can sit in a chair like a slob, right.

But the idea that people like him cause fireballs to fall from the sky and destroy Planet Earth, right…. It just seems kinda theatrical, if not hysterical. Doesn’t leadership bear some kind of responsibility for society taking the wrong path? Isn’t that almost the whole POINT of, HAVING, leadership? Isn’t Vacation New Benefits Company CEO probably driving climate catastrophe more than fucking Dirty Brendan?

(swipes air with hands) Classism would say, No. When slobs form mobs, the world ends. (sighs, shakes head, mutters)

…. But yeah: getting through, I think a little more than half, of that Ronald Hutton history book about Gardner and that generation, and all the decades leading up to it, over a dozen, right, over a dozen decades, right: all the forces that came together to form modern witchcraft, you know, such a weird name the book had, right: “Triumph”—yes, wherever I go, I hide my, triumph: you know, just like a Fortune 500 CEO hides his (always: his, right) fortune from a society that hunts down and slays rich men in order to feed the dragon Fafner, right…. Yeah, maybe not a triumph: emergence, maybe…. And obvious Ronnie as a secular historian leaves a good chunk of things you can mentally chew over outside of his chosen demesne, right: but he’s not hostile, and he does what he sets out to do, rather well: it’s useful….

And yeah, a LOT has happened since the bones of the old ways were fossilized and sunk into church walls and renamed, or whatever, by medieval scribes, and so on, you know…. Nothing comes from nothing: god didn’t invent the world by pulling it out of his buttocks, you know, that’s just…. A story useful for colonialists, somehow. It’s hard to explain…. Nothing comes from nothing: and the study of the past, even rather archaic periods, can be useful: but the religion of ~these times~ has to arise from the needs of ~these times~, just like it was for the people in the past: the pattern, not the details, right….

A lot has happened since medieval Europe was drawn up into little fiefdoms, right. Of course, if you’re the average biblicist or whatever, or church traditionalist: the story was mostly over by THAT time, even, right, it’s like…. It’s like, how was your town doing, in the 12th century? “Oh, it didn’t exist yet.” Okay…. “The whole town I live in could go poof! And it wouldn’t matter to religion. Of course, that’s just religion. I’m also on the municipal beautification committee….”

People probably literally say shit like that, all the time, right. Like, “normies say the damndest things”, right?….

…. Kids say the damnest things, if you don’t get the reference: what was that, the 80s? I don’t think I ever ACTUALLY watched that show: I just use it as a stock phrase occasionally, I don’t know, like some people do.

But yeah: the terrorism of the church aside, I don’t blame the Christians of the Middle Ages or whenever—I mean, it was a little hard reading, “The Mists of Avalon”, and having it be like: “it’s all over now, honey bunches of oats: but I’ll always be inside this little tchotchke in the church, and I’ll be a vague wimpy spirit, you know”…. Like man, at least talk to the president of medieval England sometimes! ~”No, I’m not gonna do that no more. Peace, chick!” (laughs)…. But yeah: I don’t blame the Christians of the church centuries: which haven’t REALLY ended, right: the situation is a little ambiguous, but many people are far from happy about even that, right…. But yeah. But yeah I don’t blame them for—I mean tchotchkism is so weird: but I don’t blame them for seeing “paganism” as primarily an attitude of the past, and seeing the world as improved, at least to some marginal degree, right, by the mission of Jesus. They were just trying to live in their own time, right. You OUGHT to think, maybe, that there’s something good about your own time: because otherwise, are you really living? Are you in your own time, right?…. Are your feet on the ground?….

…. “The great art of embroidery will pass over to the insane and the prostitutes, such that colorless clothing will come to be expected.”

See: I don’t just disagree with that—I don’t even know what that MEANS, right…. It’s like a Hollywood movie, one of those ones that make you go: just tell me what I’m supposed to think, Big Brother—just give me another chance; I’ll figure it out! I’ll crack the code!

Like, loony tunes schizophrenics and wild-eyed whores dress in nondescript grey clothes?…. I guess the whores can only get the threads that the loony tunes knit, right: they can’t, like, I don’t know, BUY, something…. ~red~?

The past is a different country, right. Sic ICE on it, (laughs)…. You know I love the Mexicans, y’all….

…. “I know my hazel tree of poetry.
I know my strong God.”

“(You are my teacher;) may you be yourself.”

And that is a blessing, right?…. No greater exists, I should think.

…. “The Precepts of Cúchulainn”

Aside from the suggestion that classism should trump nationalism, right—Cúchulainn was the first Biden Democrat, right…. He was a right-wing Democrat and regular contributor on MSNBC…. Let’s just put that aside as something that causes me pain…. And then there’s the command to continue family lines and customs, right: also a painful suggestion to me, although one wonders what people could have done in those early days, of course…. The only non-familial institution were mostly monasteries and escape hatches, to be honest….. But yeah: that part could have (song and dance for three minutes) preceded Christianity: although there’s the obvious Mosaic parallel, right…. But yeah: then most of it is, while not quite as bloodless and exaggerated as Dickens and the Victorianism movement, right—obviously heavily influenced by Christian teaching, if not simply written as a sort of entertainment by a Christian scribe or monk, with modest and occasional limits laid down by the “pagan” kingly law of strength, right…. But yeah: mostly just—don’t be rude, be polite; follow the godly rule of prudence in all things…. Folk not metal, when it comes to music…. It’s not obnoxious to me: but to hallucinate that we are looking at something here that is a bold shot across the bow to the church fellow movement, or really anti-Christian or opposed or even strongly non-church or opposed to church customs, you know…. What, just because it wasn’t written in Latin? Is that the argument? You’ve been translating things too long….

…. “Titles of Poet and Rank in Middle Irish Institution of Learning: A Brief Film to Make Benefit….”

Wow, ok….

~scans over this incredibly irrelevant, crazy educated micks, crap, much of which isn’t in English, but in Irish or occasionally some other language….

—And: we’re done.

…. But yeah: to say that you can make a decision about something based on its culture: it’s like no—what is its content, right. It’s like, if you say: “Oh that’s something written in (French/Chinese/whatever)”—and then you make a decision based on that, like some pseudo-scholar (curious and curiouser!) or pseudo-patriot (nativist), right?

But it’s like, no: what does it SAY! They’re words: what do they MEAN?

~Oh, well: that parts not important.

—And: we’re done.

[(Dragon-Rider Jesus is flying around in the sky, doing the crescendo of classism Armageddon, right)
(some girl is in like a movie and she’s like got her hands on her head and is sitting on the ground, freaking out)
(Bailey Zimmerman, leaning back and bellowing and pointing theatrically because he’s really getting into this) You can act like you’re doing fine!
(Bob Dylan, uncharacteristically non-reserved/sympathetic mood) (reaches out for her hand) C’mon. You’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.

~Ambiguity is my favorite flavor…. Although the MOST ambiguous thing…. Is to be, OUTRAGEOUS, right…. So much.]