Is it divine ordinance that the existential philosophers I (a cleric-ridden Roman Catholic) admire so much are Protestants? Take Kierkegaard. The freedom from papist conformity of his religious thought conjoined with the notion that this world will only cut you off at the knees is bracing. Bow to no one, knowing at the same time you must bow when you're knee-capped by the blow sure to come, inspires me more than any statue of the Madonna (as much as I appeal to her daily for help).
No, the Lutherans, monarchists and Swiss bankers have a point. Which is, all is pointless, except for picking a winning bracket in the NCAA basketball tournament.
Romantic that I am, I marked teams that have no chance for great glory in this madness that assaults us in March, just as the northern hemisphere is breaking free of the cold and the damp, tilting its axis toward the life-giving sun. I long for summer, sad at the same time because I know it must die.
Is there any finer sentence in the English language that begins, "I have an old friend who..." ? I have learned few things in my silly journey through this vale of tears, but one of them is that someone else always knows more than I do, be it in the realm of stock picking, tennis strategy, golf swing, love, or basketball picks.
Prediction: OU beats Memphis in the national championship game. (Blake Griffin already has 18 points and eight rebounds in the first half against Morgan State).
Good luck to all in this season of hope. Baseball is next.
No comments:
Post a Comment