The League of Bearded Catholics

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

 
The vendor hall at ChesterCon 2011! That's my table at the left. I inadvertently dumped the contents of my camera's memory chip, at one point, and lost some good stuff, but was able to hastily grab a few shots before bugging out.

Shocking, I know, that this report should be so tardy and incomplete, but my trip to the annual convention of the American Chesterton Society (ChesterCon) was, predictably, a blast and a privilege from the start.

First, I got to travel from the Northwest Arkansas Ozarks to St. Louis with a couple of members of our local Chesterton society, Tom and his daughter Michelle. Tom is the one who, incredibly, pulled together the local Society. We have a group that ranges from about 8 upwards to 12 or 15 on a packed night. From what I've heard, that would be an accomplishment even in a much more populous area. Tom and his wife have raised a wonderful Catholic family who are delightful to be around. Daughter Michelle is a real distributist, with a large garden and a beehive. She also brews her own beer. They kept me alert and awake while driving with some great conversation, and provided valuable navigation services.

I had asked a while ago about setting up a table at the conference, just thinking I might sell a few prints of some recent Chesterton artwork and help defray the cost of the trip. It was all very informal, and Dale Ahlquist made it simple and easy, which is good. Complexity makes me perspire and develop tics.

So, I arrived to find a very nice table, in the very nice hotel (I had under-dressed, it turns out) very near to the Versailles Ballroom where the conference was mostly held. Just two tables down was fellow artist Daniel Matsui, who - as you can see - had dressed much better.

 
The well-dressed and incredibly skilled Daniel Mistui

The conference was amazing, and too rich to recount very well in this brief post. Do I have a picture of me with Sean Dailey? Dale Ahlquist? Nope. But I did get this shot of Chris Check (with his son) who gave a great presentation with tons of helpful background on Chesterton's poem, Lepanto, topped off with a stirring dramatic recitation.

 
Chris Check (& son?)

There was, of course, great camraderie between talks, at meals and at the informal outdoor gatherings (the "afterglows") where home-brewed beer, homemade wine and a variety of cheesy comestibles were shared freely... and there was much rejoicing ("Yaaayyy..."). The conversations were a real highlight. At one point, Danial Mistui and I talked for more than a half-hour, and it was like getting another fascinating seminar speaker thrown in, gratis. What a kick to visit with him about his background and his approach to his philosophy and his art.

Leaguer Del was resplendent in his kilt as he talked with Dave, both accomplices from the Christian Pipe Smokers forum.

 
Del & Dave... both fellow CPS-ers.

It turned out to be a trip blessed many times over; as I said, I had mahhh-velous company on the drive, I sold enough prints to pay all my expenses, and even landed a very gratifying job offer, which it appears ever-more likely I will accept.

The cherry on top was getting the offer of a book-jacket deal from Ignatius Press for my Chesterton oil portrait before the paint was even dry. Here is how it looks;

 
Pretty bodacious, eh?

What a thrill to have my art on the cover of a collection of Chesterton essays! Thanks, Ignatius (especially John Herreid).

Next year, in Reno!

A Feast of Chesterton

I'm behind the curve, a bit, but today is what would be the feast day of St. Gilbert of Beaconsfield, if Chesterton were officially, you know, a saint... which he isn't... yet. It is in fact the seventy-fifth anniversary of Chesterton's death.

A list of suggested scripture readings from Kevin O'Brien, at his Theater of the Word, Inc. blog; http://thwordinc.blogspot.com/2011/06/feast-of-chesterton.html

And thoughts on the auspicious day from the American Chesterton Society http://www.chesterton.org/wordpress/?p=2931

Our family festivities are as yet up in the air.

Addendum! Jennifer Pierce continues her thoughtful series on Chesterton over at The Anchor; http://www.anchornews.org/columns/twitch_thread_jennifer_pierce/

 

Oh, and you really should be reading this;

http://distributistreview.com/mag/

Foxfire Books

 

Cool! I remember these books from my youth, my parents having had them in their library. These are a couple of the once well-known Foxfire books, a series of 12 anthologies published in the 1970s, from articles published in the Foxfire magazine. I borrowed these from my Mom.

Wikipedia describes the series;

The Foxfire magazine began in 1966, written and published as a quarterly American magazine by students at Rabun Gap-Nacoochee School, a private secondary education school located in the U.S. state of Georgia. An example of experiential education, the magazine had articles based on the students' interviews with local people about aspects and practices in Appalachian culture. They captured oral history, craft traditions, and other material about the culture. When the articles were collected and published in book form in 1972, it became a surprising best-seller nationally and gained attention for the Foxfire project.

I remember being fascinated with the articles and the Foxfire project itself. It's an entirely different educational paradigm from what we see in most institutional schools (public or private) that is based on learning traditions, history and culture first-hand (or as close as possible) from previous generations.

The Foxfire books are still as helpful as ever for learning how to, for instance, build a log cabin or butcher a hog (though one could recently have learned a good deal about hog butchering just from reading Gilbert magazine!). They would no longer be the best resource for this kind of knowledge, however, since we have the internet, now, and through it a whole universe of useful, esoteric information. I've gone to the internet recently to get instruction on everything from knife-sharpening to fixing our washing machine. Video makes these things that much easier to learn, too. But the books are still neat and fun to browse. The article format makes them great for bedtime reading, and the whole outlook of the books makes them inspirational. Seems like they would be a great supplement for home-schoolers or scouts.

Education is simply the soul of a society as it passes from one generation to another. - G.K. Chersterton, The Observer, 1924

(NOTE: Foxfire is not to be confused either Firefox, the popular internet browser, or Firefox Starfox, the awesome video game, wherein I beat the evil Andross and saved the entire Lylat system. You're welcome...).

Happy Birthday, Gilbert!

Today, May 29th, is the birthday of G.K. Chesterton! Circumstances have worked out such that I am by myself for most of the day (wife and daughter are away for a Girls' Day Out). I will go to Mass and later will read a bit of Chesterton on the porch, wreathed in pipe smoke and quaffing Fat Tire (in a cheery nod to the prodigious girth that accompanied Chesterton's prodigious vision. I was about to say "prodigious intellect", but I think his real gift was wisdom, not mere raw intelligence. He truly had an Enlarged Heart, but not of the kind that will show up in an X-ray).

Distributism Defined

A blog called Bill Powell is Alive posts a succinct definition of Distributism penned by G.K. Chesterton in his G.K.'s Weekly paper.

Here's the juicy bit;

THE LEAGUE stands

For the Liberty of the Individual and the Family Against interference by busybodies, monopolies, or the State.

Personal Liberty will be restored mainly by the better Distribution of Property (i.e. ownership of land, houses, workshops, gardens, means of production, etc.).

The Better Distribution of Property will be achieved by protecting and facilitating the ownership of individual enterprises in land, shops, and factories.

Thus THE LEAGUE fights for:

Small Shops and Shopkeepers against multiple shops and trusts.

Individual Craftmanship and Cooperation in industrial enterprises. (Every worker should own a share in the Assets and Control of the business in which he works).

The Small Holder and the Yeoman Farmer against monopolists of large inadequately farmed estates.

And the Maximum, instead of the minimum initiative on the part of the citizen.

 

There is also a handy reading list. More shameless distributist propaganda to follow in the coming weeks!

Tip of the battered, shapeless fedora to The Distributist Review on Facebook.

Merry Christmas!

Time has been at a premium, but I leave you with this Christmas poem until next week. A blessed Christmas to you all!

A Christmas Carol
by G.K.Chesterton

The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)

The Christ-child stood on Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down

Well... He's Just This Guy, You Know?

The new Gilbert's here! The new Gilbert's here!

 

The latest issue of Gilbert magazine arrived on out threshhold a few days ago, and the event had our entire household practically fosticating with excitement. This is the long awaited Art issue, which features a number of reproductions of my paintings - and those of some other really accomplished artists - in glossy, full-color splendor... and there was rejoicing in Squirrelandia ("ya-a-a-a-y...").

The editorial staff, having finally succumbed to my patient and subtle mind control techniques, also inexplicably decided to interview me for the article, along with Jef Murray. They even make mention of The League of Bearded Catholics! Yes, everything is proceeding according to my nefarious and labyrinthine plan...

Anyhow, I always find the experience of reading my own words in print to be something like hearing one's voice on tape for the first time. Or maybe like the way Hermione Granger must have felt when she asked, "Is that really what my hair looks like from the back?".

In order to head off at the pass the inevitable indignant letters of complaint, I sat down and wrote one straight form my worst fear scenario. I don;t know if they'll print it, but I think it would be funny.

Dear Gilbert Magazine,

 

I received the July/August issue of Gilbert - the art issue - with great anticipation, and was pleased to find an array of what was, on the whole, some very worthwhile and beautiful artwork reproduced in glorious color.

 

But I was given to wonder what led you to devote so many precious column inches to this fellow Timothy Jones. Nothing against him... he has a fair start on being an artist, and might yet learn to paint well, but his unfocused ramblings on the philosophy and meaning of art reveal him to be quite out of his element. While the reproductions of his artwork are not altogether a waste of ink, his value as an amateur philosopher or even a very alert student of art history is open to some very legitimate doubt. In addition, one wonders; Who, after all, is he? What, of note, has he really achieved that we should care very much  what he thinks?

 

I was very gratified to find the article in which he was featured more or less rescued by the calmly rational Jef Murray and rounded out with some delightful artwork from several other accomplished artists - Anthony VanArsdale (the deserving cover artist) and Jason Tako come to mind as being especially outstanding. You even have right there on staff a very talented artist, Ted Schluenderfritz, who's thoughts and work might better warrant the time and attention of your readers.

 

I'll leave you with the gentle admonition that surely you can aim a bit higher next time.

 

Very sincerely yours,

 

Timothy Jones,

BFA (Blew Finances Aimlessly),

MFA (Mannered Frittering Accomplished),

BC (Bearded Catholic)

 

Thanksgiving

Over at the National Catholic Register, Mark Shea gives a tip of the slouchy, shapeless hat to The Most Grateful Man Who Ever Lived, Gilbert Keith Chesterton -

Chesterton muses on Robinson Crusoe;

After all, the process of making everything that one wants cannot be carried too far in this world. We have all saved something from the ship. At the very least, there was something that Crusoe could not make on the island; there was something Crusoe was forced to steal from the wreck; I mean Crusoe. That precious bale, in any case, he brought ashore; that special cargo called “R. C.,” at least, did not originate in the island... Even the pessimist when he thinks, if he ever does, must realise that he has something to be thankful for: he owes something to the world, as Crusoe did to the ship. You may regard the universe as a wreck: but at least you have saved something from the wreck.

I'm thankful for a lot this year. One is always led to single out this or that, but life is complex and I'm grateful for the grace behind all the complexity. For instance, though I am very thankful once again to have reliable, paying work, for the last few months this work has made it devilishly hard to find time to paint or to write, and so the League seems nearly comatose a year after it was begun. I say seems comatose. I look at it as being less like a coma and more like a long nap. It will take some disciplined effort, though, to wake it and get a mug of hot tea into it. My schedule has grown more rigid and unaccommodating than one of those blue-gloved TSA workers.

I'm grateful to have learned a bit more about beekeeping, recently, and to have made progress on the home brewing front this year.

To say I'm grateful for my family would be an understatement of scandalous proportions.

One more thing for which I'm especially grateful is our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI. Jonah Goldberg, writing in the Jewish World Review, gives a perspective on our beloved German Shepherd for which I am very grateful, indeed. As Mr. Goldberg's father wisely observed, "we need more rocks in the river".

I Have Issues

 
Cover of the new issue of Gilbert Magazine, by Anthony VanArsdale).

In what can only be seen as a regrettable and hopefully temporary lapse in editorial judgment, Sean Daily and his (ordinarily brilliant) staff at Gilbert Magazine decided to pad their latest issue on The Arts with some of my own rudderless musings, accompanied by a few reproductions of my paintings. The damage to their reputation is somewhat ameliorated by making the article in which I am featured a kind of tandem interview with an actual illustrator, the inestimable Jef Murray.

Make sure to order a bunch of copies. It really is a fine magazine.

I look forward to receiving my issue in the mail, partly because this will enable me to see whether they were able to pull of some kind of editorial miracle, but mostly so that I might be reminded of what it was I actually said. Something about art and the meaning of art. Something about modern art is in there somewhere, I'm almost sure.

Stop Using Art as a Weapon!

On a related note, those of you who have read C.S. Lewis' Space Trilogy may remember that at one point in the story, some examples of modern art are used against the main character as a kind of spiritual anesthetic or moral poison, as part of a general brainwashing program.

You may be interested to note, then, that it has recently been revealed that some of what is now the most well known modern art of the twentieth century may owe a great deal of that notariety to having been actively promoted and used as propaganda during the Cold War years by the C.I.A.! Using shadow "foundations", they funneled money to artists, collectors and museums, and funded traveling exhibits in the U.S. and overseas (they had to cancel the one in the U.S. after just a few weeks because, well, everyone hated it). They also controlled a number of influential publications which they used to praise the new art as an indicator of the creative freedom enjoyed in the U.S. (as contrasted with the Soviet Union).

You can't make this stuff up! I always suspected it was some kind of plot... of course the article from London's The Independent points out that we are not allowed to say that sort of thing, that abstract expressionism would have been just as popular, anyway... "probably".

The thing is, I remember how the official art of the Soviet Union was denigrated as being mere "propaganda", while ours was a high and pure art. It's true that the heroic realism of the U.S.S.R. was stiff and not very good in a lot of cases, and it's also true that it was transparent propaganda. Every Soviet citizen knew it, too. But Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko were also propaganda, only of a somewhat more subtle kind... and we did not know it.

The Soviets would have been much better off letting their brilliant impressionist painters represent them around the world, that's for sure.

Is Jon Stewart Reading Chesterton?

If not... is he ready to?

Here he is talking about Glenn Beck (from a recent NPR interview);

The beautiful thing about what he does is, it's very difficult to argue with his facts. It's the conclusions [that are problematic]. ... It's that slippery slope. ... So what you do is, you just grab together facts and put them together and then do a grab bag of conclusions. Everything is discovered as evidence of secret plots, of secret things that could be occurring.

This reminds me of a classic passage from G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy;

Every one who has had the misfortune to talk with people in the heart or on the edge of mental disorder, knows that their most sinister quality is a horrible clarity of detail; a connecting of one thing with another in a map more elaborate than a maze. If you argue with a madman, it is extremely probable that you will get the worst of it; for in many ways his mind moves all the quicker for not being delayed by the things that go with good judgment. He is not hampered by a sense of humour or by charity, or by the dumb certainties of experience. He is the more logical for losing certain sane affections. Indeed, the common phrase for insanity is in this respect a misleading one. The madman is not the man who has lost his reason. The madman is the man who has lost everything except his reason.

The madman’s explanation of a thing is always complete, and often in a purely rational sense satisfactory. Or, to speak more strictly, the insane explanation, if not conclusive, is at least unanswerable;

Nevertheless he is wrong. But if we attempt to trace his error in exact terms, we shall not find it quite so easy as we had supposed. Perhaps the nearest we can get to expressing it is to say this: that his mind moves in a perfect but narrow circle. A small circle is quite as infinite as a large circle; but, though it is quite as infinite, it is not so large. In the same way the insane explanation is quite as complete as the sane one, but it is not so large. A bullet is quite as round as the world, but it is not the world. There is such a thing as a narrow universality; there is such a thing as a small and cramped eternity; you may see it in many modern religions. Now, speaking quite externally and empirically, we may say that the strongest and most unmistakable MARK of madness is this combination between a logical completeness and a spiritual contraction. The lunatic’s theory explains a large number of things, but it does not explain them in a large way.

Disclaimer; I am not saying Glenn Beck is a lunatic. However, he does have what seem to be some pretty looney ideas, which a disturbing number of people seem to accept as real explanations of the world and the state of our Republic at present. Why is it that, far from tempering the excesses of the other,  the Right and Left so often end up mirroring one another's most ghastly mental traits?

Oh, wait. C.S Lewis nailed that one;

Opposite evils, so far from balancing, aggravate each other.

Or, as he noted regarding his semi-biographical allegory The Pilgrim's Regress;

The attack on the soul from north and south represent, in Lewis's words, "equal and opposite evils, each continually strengthened and made plausible by its critique of the other."

So... evil is a two party system, where we are allowed the tormentor of our choice. And that passes for freedom.

Incidentally, The Pilgrim's Regress was my first exposure ever to C.S. Lewis and the first chapter had me howling with laughter, in recognition of my own confused religious upbringing. Not that this was anyone's fault, but so much of my boyhood grasp of the Gospel boiled down to this (from the aforementioned chapter 1);

...it all ended with pointing out that the Landlord was quite extraordinarily kind and good to his tenants, and would certainly torture most of them to death the moment he had the slightest pretext.