Our house bravely faced the breaking of a new morn, and trundling off in the early haze of Phoenician heat, arrived at Veritas at a luxurious 8:15 a.m. The day was divided into lectures and a seminar wherein we discussed the "Meno" (only Hillsdalians could find a career where you're required to read a Socratic dialogue for job training.) We were bathed by speakers treating everything from income taxes to the distinctions between the High and Low culture of the West. Add to this my growing fear that someone would suddenly stand up, point at me and shout "Hey! That one's just pretending to be an adult by wearing a tie! Grab him!" and you have the makings of an interesting nine hour day.
And that was only just the beginning. Unbeknownst to Garrett and I, Parker had coolly invited about a dozen people over to our house for dinner. Inventory? Our house contained at the time a grand total of:
A bag of onions
A sack of potatoes
A pan
A two week old bag of asparagus
3 inside chairs (one folding)
4 broken plastic chairs (on the porch)
1 table strewn with Settlers of Cataan pieces
A bazillion books everywhere
And last but not least, the grit and determination of four Hillsdale men to prove their house as hospitable
There was much to be done before the nine women and three men arrived (Just the Great Hearts proportion, I promise). We piled into the car and Parker set our sights for the nearest grocery store. As we raced down the road, our windows were rolled down in celebratory excess. Confidence reigned supreme. Unfortunately, confidence was insufficient to stop Parker's temporary license from whooshing out of the back seat and out the window. Instantly. Only a minor pitfall as we whirled into the parking lot dispersing to buy groceries. Also, Garrett bought a chair. I possibly have not laughed harder in months.
By some miracle, the pasta was made (a la Parker's delicious red sauce), the guests arrived (including the illustrious PG), and a wonderful time was had by all. As night fell, only one guest remained, Michael. To the best of my knowledge he has two Master's in English (One from Notre Dame) and enjoys talking about Chaucer,Walter Benjamin,...and the merits of the Simpsons. The greatest triumph of the night was his capitulation to our charismatic idiosyncrasies-------tangential explanation here-------
Our house has developed the curious habit of Bane-imitation. That's right, the villain of Dark Knight Rises.
"So you've excommunicated me from the League. I'm forced to start my own order. The BANE-EDICTINES!"
Bane and St. Benedict. Both figures of tremendous spiritual influence that founded an order. Also, they both faced assassination attempts from within their own organization. Coincidence, or the result of Nolan's deeply Catholic imagination? You decide.
Truly frightening. Also, frighteningly funny. I'm simply asking you to consider your normal everyday conversation dubbed over in a strangely cultured yet pompous tone that always seems to inflect upward.
"Why do I always talk in questions, Mr. Wayne? Is it because I'm better than you?"
On a slightly more serious note, for those who have seen the movie, did you catch the tarnished monstrance that is settled nicely on the Wayne Grand piano? Mm?? Could Batman have a private chapel? Perhaps Alfred was an Anglican priest who came over to Rome and kept the English rite? The possibilities are endless.
"Add to this my growing fear that someone would suddenly stand up, point at me and shout "Hey! That one's just pretending to be an adult by wearing a tie! Grab him!" and you have the makings of an interesting nine hour day."
ReplyDeleteThis fear afflicts us all. Also, I didn't realize you had a blog, and I was unreasonably excited to learn this from Ryan.