Apparently, the organizers of the Synod on Synodality have requested poems about the Synod. Weary at the prospect of yet more yakking about synodal governance and conforming the Church’s teaching on sexual morality and the nature of man to the latest demands of the Sexual Revolution, which have done wonders for the Church of England, I set the following lyrics to what Tom Lehrer called a...
By Wayne Allensworth Yevgeny Prigozhin (english.nv.ua) In my recent article on the “coup” that wasn’t in Russia, I raised the question of what the popular reaction to Yevgeniy Prigozhin’s aborted “March for Justice” might be; i.e., would the crisis this past weekend undermine Putin’s poll numbers, for instance? And what would the incident do to Prigozhin’s poll ratings? Possibly, I wrote, the...
by Wayne Allensworth Christina’s World (Andrew Wyeth) Once upon a time in a world that seems like a galaxy far, far away, I wrote a creative writing piece inspired by Andrew Wyeth’s painting. I was 13 or so, and the paper was for an English class. The teacher liked it and read it aloud to her classes. I can’t remember what I wrote, but that painting made quite an impression on the young me...
By Wayne Allensworth Yevgeniy Prigozhin and Vladimir Putin (ideapod.com) Here’s a preliminary take on the events in Russia this past weekend: Yevgeniy Prigozhin, a Putin crony from St. Petersburg who heads the Wagner Group mercenary organization, after claiming that regular Russian army units had opened fire on Wagner camps in the war zone, announced that he was organizing a column of Wagner...
By Wayne Allensworth (Pexels.com) A certain older gentleman of my acquaintance, let’s call him “Mr. K,” is noticeably, steadily declining. He had been hale, hardy, and robust, even after receiving his doctor’s grim diagnosis. Now he appears pale and drawn. The decline has been sudden and swift, but not unexpected. Mr. K, after all, is nearing 93. He suffers from bone cancer, and his once...
By Wayne Allensworth (Factfile.org) The man who was our greatest living writer, a man who wrestled with God along with the ghosts of Faulkner, Melville, Dostoevsky, and Conrad, has passed away at the age of 89. May he rest in peace after having struggled mightily as an artist with the big questions—meaning, purpose, God and Man, life and death, good and evil–he never let go of in his...
By Wayne Allensworth I’ve always known there were dogs that wouldn’t hunt, and that you should let sleeping dogs lie. I’ve walked in high cotton, bit off more than I could chew, kept tabs on something or someone, had to be careful what I’ve wished for more than once, and have been disturbed to find the fly in the buttermilk (or ointment). Your humble servant is always fixing to do...
by Wayne Allensworth Consider this a follow up to my Memorial Day Message. Harold Oliver Allensworth was my uncle and namesake (My full name is Harold Wayne Allensworth). He was killed in action on June 6, 1944, D-Day, the Allied invasion of Europe. Sergeant Allensworth, the ball turret gunner on a B-24 christened “Sweating it Out” by its crew, would have turned 19 on June 29...
By Wayne Allensworth The deer have spotted me. They freeze for an instant, then go about their business, even as their eyes are subtly fixed on the human figure in the distance. I slowly move away from them, and they trot off into the distance. I come out to watch them in the mornings, their ever present, subtle grace, the stately solitude of their presence. The only sound the cooing of the dove...
By Tom Piatak I am too young to have seen Jim Brown play for the Cleveland Browns. Which means I am too young to have seen him play professional football, because the Browns are the only NFL team he ever played for. The Dirty Dozen star retired when he was still the best player at his position in football. Among the people I trust who did see him play, the consensus has never changed: this man...
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