me, after seeing a drum circle of middle aged people in santa hats and reindeer headbands at a cafe in a town a bit farther outside from DC: oh, this is where all the normal people moved to
my friend: you mean the weirdos (affectionate)
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Alfred: Who is this?
Seven year old Bruce: His name is Danny. He's my older brother
Alfred: You're an only child. You don't have a brother.
Bruce: Mom? Dad? Do I have a brother?
Thomas: I only ever loved your mother, and I find baby-making repulsive—no offense, Brucie—so biologically, no, you don't have a brother. Emotionally, on the other hand, if you feel like he is your brother, I don't mind calling him my son. It's not like I can't afford it, nor can this lad outrun me.
Alfred: That's... kidnaping, sir.
Martha: Oh don't be so uptight Alfred. You Brits worrry about the sillist of things.
Alfred: Silly thing? You mean the law!?
Martha: Yes, that's a pesky thing. Besides, he has my eyes and Thomas' nose! That's obviously our son.
Bruce considering Danny: He does have your nose, dad.
Thomas proud: A chip off the old block that one. Good job catching your brother Brucie.
Bruce: Thank you! I used my innocent face like you said, Mom!
Martha beaming: A pretty face is a valuable weapon, darling!
Alfred whispering to Danny: Blink four times if you want me to get you out of here. The Waynes are not entirely sane.
Danny:..... The kid just said he needed someone to walk him home cause he was lost.
Alfred: That's how they get you. I once offered Master Thomas my coat during a suprise downpour. That was four years ago, and now I'm a butler. He gave me an embroidered apron with the words, "You're mine now, Brit"
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There's this way of doing female-ness in Christianity that I call "pastel flower journal Christianity." I've got nothing against pastel flower journals per se, but for some reason people believe it's the end all and be all of female spirituality, and I think it's a real disservice towards young Christian women.
One of these days I'd like to start a prayer-and-reading group or something for young women, but there would be no floral themes or over-focus on how "God thinks you're beautiful even if the world doesn't" (a true statement, but it's wayyyyy too often the focus in women's spiritual reading). Instead we would be reading:
Seneca's Letters from a Stoic
Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning
Sheed's A Map of Life
Portions of Pieper's book on leisure
Kreeft's Three Philosophies of Life
Guardini's The Lord (or something similar)
Therese's Story of a Soul
and some select portions of the Nicomachean Ethics.
(Also they're all getting the porn talk. I don't know why we give the porn talk to young men but not young women. There's this idea that women don't use porn and they only need the talk about "guarding their heart." Bullshit. There's porn on the YA shelves of Barnes and Nobles and before that there were bodice rippers. Young women need the porn talk too.)
Every young woman needs to be getting a basic grounding in virtue ethics, logic, natural law, scholastic philosophy and Biblical hermeneutics if they're going to get by in today's spiritual landscape. Enough faffery and emotionalism in young women's spiritual education! Give them real food to chew on, not pasty sentimentalism!
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Has anyone considered the fact that Shen Jiu burning the Qiu manor to the ground and Yue Qingyuan arriving late to find the burnt manor means that not only was he convinced Shen Jiu died in that fire, he probably went back to the sect and made a memorial tablet for him. So yea, anyway, I was thinking, what if Shen Jiu found the tablet with his name on it later on after becoming a Qing Jing disciple and realized that Yue Qingyuan probably never showed up because he thought he was dead.
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