inappropriate advertisement time!
inappropriate in that it is one of the least important things i could have chosen to focus on today, but my heart is weak, and i turn to familiar comforts in times of trouble. that, and if i didn't take a break from keening over my government's nauseating ineptitude once in a while i'd have ripped out my eyes about a week ago.
my secret boyfriend has returned from his nearly eight-month-long hiatus with a big-ass bang, with an article in each of the past three week's issues of the new yorker. the september 12th article is on rick warren, the author of the christian-living manual the purpose-driven life, and how he managed to acquire his now massive evangelical following starting with a base of, well, practically nothing. the theory is that by maintaining a network of small groups of congregants with similar yet distinct ideologies, instead of trying to force a single hard line of thought on a massive group, his church has been able to network more successfully than most and has benefited from that in huge ways. it looks like they really have done a lot of outstanding work, and warren himself comes across as a decidedly decent guy, but my stomach always rolls at the notion of spiritual teacher as ringleader. you should read it for yourself, though, and make up your own well-informed mind. here's some more gushing, er, info, on the other things mr. gladwell's been up to. he's sassy. buy him a beer. a good one, none of that light domestic swill.
juniper pearl, shamelessly promoting her loved ones since 1979, when she first developed language skills and demanded that a stranger in a restaurant say that her mommy was pretty.
postscript: seriously, buy the new yorker this week. the "talk of the town" contributors have said everything we've all been thinking for the past week or so, and they've done it concisely, solemnly and beautifully. i've cried wolf a number of times at this point, so i won't say it again, but when i did say, before, that i intended to leave the commentary to the pros, this is what i was talking about.
my secret boyfriend has returned from his nearly eight-month-long hiatus with a big-ass bang, with an article in each of the past three week's issues of the new yorker. the september 12th article is on rick warren, the author of the christian-living manual the purpose-driven life, and how he managed to acquire his now massive evangelical following starting with a base of, well, practically nothing. the theory is that by maintaining a network of small groups of congregants with similar yet distinct ideologies, instead of trying to force a single hard line of thought on a massive group, his church has been able to network more successfully than most and has benefited from that in huge ways. it looks like they really have done a lot of outstanding work, and warren himself comes across as a decidedly decent guy, but my stomach always rolls at the notion of spiritual teacher as ringleader. you should read it for yourself, though, and make up your own well-informed mind. here's some more gushing, er, info, on the other things mr. gladwell's been up to. he's sassy. buy him a beer. a good one, none of that light domestic swill.
juniper pearl, shamelessly promoting her loved ones since 1979, when she first developed language skills and demanded that a stranger in a restaurant say that her mommy was pretty.
postscript: seriously, buy the new yorker this week. the "talk of the town" contributors have said everything we've all been thinking for the past week or so, and they've done it concisely, solemnly and beautifully. i've cried wolf a number of times at this point, so i won't say it again, but when i did say, before, that i intended to leave the commentary to the pros, this is what i was talking about.
Labels: malcolm, new yorker, religion
posted by juniper pearl @ 1:59 PM
12 Comments:
At 7:10 PM,
Me said…
your mommy IS pretty.
your secret boyfriend however isn't so pretty.. but you two look really pretty together.
At 7:38 PM,
juniper pearl said…
he is too pretty, you take that back. but i'd stand my ground even if he were flat-out ghastly, because i'm mostly in it for the brains--the socially hyperconscious, leftist-leaning, determinedly objective, must-figure-out-how-everything-everywhere-works brains. mmmmmm.
we do look lovely, it's true. if only this blasted secretiveness didn't preclude our being seen in public together...
At 8:16 PM,
Me said…
okay i'll take it half back. :)
At 8:23 PM,
juniper pearl said…
half? half?!?!?! unacceptable. you must not be looking at him right. try again.
At 8:44 PM,
Me said…
actually I wasn't looking at him right.. I was looking at his upside down.. ah yes, he's very pretty.. okay now we will have to duel for him! "onguard!"
At 8:49 PM,
juniper pearl said…
oh, lsz. drop the epee and accept that there are some things that are meant to be, and you kicking my ass to get at malcolm gladwell...
tee hee hee. hee hee. tee. hee.
At 9:03 PM,
Me said…
aw i was just yankin your chain... he's not my type. he's ALL yours!
*puts down her butter knife*
At 9:14 PM,
juniper pearl said…
damn straight.
*hesitantly loosens grip on homemade toothbrush shiv in pocket*
At 9:20 PM,
Me said…
yeow! that woulda hurt.
At 9:28 PM,
juniper pearl said…
of course it would have. there's no point in fashioning a weapon that won't hurt, much less clutching one in your fist during a heated argument with an invisible enemy.
At 9:37 PM,
Me said…
first of all, I wasn't arguing :p.. it was a fair duel (kinda)! secondly, i'm only invisible when you close your eyes. thirdly, okay, so I am your enemy now. I feel honored. /curtsey
At 9:52 PM,
juniper pearl said…
i was arguing. even fair duels don't rise up out of cordial small talk. but we don't have to be enemies anymore. we just were in that moment--you know, when i was going to kill you with a toothbrush. everything's kosher now. and thank you for the curtsey, that was delightfully prim.
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