I knew it had to exist, and was rewarded for my intrepid Googling;
Behold; Turducken... in a pig!
Now, if I can find the expansive soul who will nestle the whole affair inside a goat and wrap it all in a cow, I will be content.
I knew it had to exist, and was rewarded for my intrepid Googling;
Behold; Turducken... in a pig!
Now, if I can find the expansive soul who will nestle the whole affair inside a goat and wrap it all in a cow, I will be content.
Thanks to Beadgirl for the reminder!
So many little indicators, lately, that it's time to do this. I've been sitting on it for a while, but the world should no longer have to go on without The League of Bearded Catholics.
I started thinking about the need for such a thing years ago, as I began to notice that a lot of my favorite Catholics (like, say, on EWTN and elsewhere) were becoming more, shall we say, follically assertive. A significant number of Catholic men I most admired, I noticed, were sporting beards. I won't begin dropping names, yet, but they are many. I remember taking note of this (again), one day and thinking to myself, "There should be some kind of club... a brotherhood of hairy-faced Catholic dudes.".
I see this new enthusiasm for facial growth to be a very hopeful sign, an indication that, not only are Catholic men again embracing the God-given grace of manhood, but the whole Church in the West (or at least in America) may be re-discovering the testosterone that had been mysteriously drained over the last several decades. This transcends matters of mere sex, though. You see signs of a new boldness and intellectual vigor among prominent orthodox Catholic women just as you do in men. Catholic women bloggers are some of my favorite reads.
I'll be putting together a core group here in the Ozarks (those I can tempt with beer and cheese) that can serve as a sort of ad hoc national hub, but please don't think of this as another Catholic men's organization. Anyone can tell you, I'm far too disorganized to start an organization. My hope and my aim is that we will be something like the opposite of an organization. Organizations are too stuffy and are the enemy of fun. And budgets make my head hurt.
The idea is not even to be affiliated in any official capacity with the Catholic Church, or with any local parish. We of TLBC are Catholic primarily in character and sympathy and flavor, not in structure. Our local parish priests will certainly be invited, though. Our structure might be described as "amoebic" (as in "amoebic dysentery").
Nor is it strictly necessary that all in attendance have beards (though that will be encouraged), or that they even be men. A beard, however, will be necessary to gain admittance to all League meetings, without exception. This is one of the few hard and fast Rules of the League. That means that, for those without beards, one will be provided.
Naturally, the Lost Art of Catholic Drinking will be pursued (very important for warding off amoebic dysentery), so you could think of it as Promoting the Arts.
Finally, the name of the League was the subject of some research (okay, not a lot) as well as spirited debate. It happens that the letters TLBC may also stand for Tolkien, Lewis, Belloc and Chesterton, and the writings of these brilliant Brits will form a cornerstone of all League meetings, with members bringing favorite passages to read aloud, book recommendations, reviews and discussion, in a manner that can be instantly recognized as the opposite of a study group. The idea is not to study, the idea is to enjoy the writing of these men, and any others tangentially related to them, who influenced them, or who were influenced by them.
Look for a new TLBC Blog next week, with a pretty much arbitrary list of League Rules and By-Laws, articles, t-shirts, stickers, mugs and similar folderol.
Vintage Tom Lehrer (please note the last verse, which I found configured exactly that way on the site where I found the lyrics. An accident, but pretty creepy for a song about The Bomb). This goes out to Kim Jong Il and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad;
This is one of a new batch of family pets. They belong to my daughter. They have names, though I can't keep track of them. I think this may be Tito.
It has been interesting to watch them grow from their tiny eggs to full-sized whale food. It was even a bit of an adventure, as we kept them warm by the fireplace during the big power outage during the epic recent ice storm. We lost a few (*sniff*), but three of these specimens - I mean, these... cute, adorable and hardy crustaceans came through.
The packaging is a hoot... reminiscent of 1950s B-movie horror flick adverts, emblazoned with lurid, attention-grabbing prose like "From the Age of the Dinosaurs!!" and "They're ALIVE!!"...
I have had multiple hits on my daily painting blog by people looking for Tim "Teapot" Jones, champion Welsh dart player. See, I posted a painting of a teapot a few weeks ago.
Teapot and I have a few things in common; Our names, of course, plus I have a good deal of Welsh blood, and we are both southerners... he's from south Wales.
Wales Online reports;
Jones competes regularly in the Nottage Builders Premier Leagues and has won his division ever time he has competed.
He was presented with the Premier League’s senior award for his achievements and also reached the quarter finals of the GB CIU Singles Championship.
Jones, a 31-year-old carer, had earned the right to be in the final with victories over South England’s Lee Williams and Central England’s Darren Bennett.
In the final, he faced the challenge of North-East England’s Tommy “Magic” Dove.
Hey, anyone emerging victorious over the powers of Magic is a Good Joe in my book. As I couldn't find a photo I could verify as being Tim Teapot Jones, I give you this photo of a really big teapot, courtesy of WorldMag.com;
I also have the pleasure now and again of running across other artists who have visited my site. One of these is watercolorist Jeff Atnip at his blog, Watercolor Reality. I have very high regard for any decent watercolorist or potter, because these are things at which I have never learned to be decent... though I have never, I think, been positively indecent. They each require skill and practice to achieve any level of mastery.
This is a recent painting by Jeff Atnip, the various stages of development of which he demonstrates in a blog post;
According to this cool Tolkien-esque name generator (hat tip to Der Wolfanwalt), my Hobbit name is;
Porto Headstrong from The Far Downs
Also, according to the Red Book of Westmarch, Old World Swine is a "Tired Black Rider".
Odd, I didn't think Black Riders ever tired... but I could use a nap.
The Japanese company that brews Sapporo beer has announced -
Feh.
When they said Space Beer I thought it would be beer brewed in space, with exotic intoxicating properties as a result of being zapped by gamma rays in zero-G... but it's just brewed from barley that took a ride on the space station;
Oh well. Space travel has just not worked out like I thought it would when I was a kid;
"Here is that Space Beer you asked for, Colonel Zodiac."
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