This is just way too cool not to put up. From the opera house. I just wish blogger would let it be a little bigger. (Courtesy of Danni Ampi)
From the ballet several weeks ago at the opera house.
The Confessions of Julian Ahlquist (A continuation of the post by Romulus below. Read previous post first in order for this one to possibly make sense.) By Remus I contemplated abandoning the cursed suitcase at a different terminal and having that one shut-down and swarmed with bomb-squads and airplane delays rather than our terminal, so that we would be just fine. But then I was overcome by the small residue of conscience I had left, as most of it had been eroded away by violent thoughts against the French. My heart oscillated in painful gasps as I surveyed the Airport battleground. To me, this suitcase was worse than a bomb. I wished it was a bomb, so then it would blow up and disappear and leave me alone. But no, it was a normal suitcase. It wouldn’t go away. As I headed toward an alternate terminal, I threw myself at the mercy of the airport ticket agents, saying, “Excuse me, I thought this was my friend’s bag, but it isn’t. What should I do? It’s...
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I am sad because I could have been posting comments for three months on this thrilling blogg.
But I am happy because I have found a connection to a friend. (Yes, sort of like the woman who found her lost silver piece.)
And I would post a connection from my blogg, but I have committed to post only Advent postings.
With all Chestertonian admiration and best wishes, to the Heavenly Twins in the Eternal City, from a "distant uncle"...
Paradoxically yours,
Dr. Thursday