Behavior Modification

BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION: FROLLIE, TAKE 2

I remembered two things: what else I was doing early this morning and how to get Sweetie out of the Dropbox, since after that account of our adventures I thought she needed her picture out there too.  The first thing I was doing before taping Mutts into the Prayer Book #3 and copying verses was buying books: three of them to be exact though I went looking for only two: a Jack Taylor novel by Ken Bruen (bought Purgatory) though I have seen only the Netflix series of eight episodes, and an introduction to Beauty by Roger Scruton, maybe.  I also ended up with a seventeen or eighteenth century devotional work for .99 cents: Abandonment to Divine Providence by Jean-Pierre De Caussade.

Beauty, I think, is what life is really all about, that first, for me, but Truth and the Good as well.   Those three concerns are what ought to be at the heart of a Liberal Arts Education.  See a sixties essay by Wayne Booth entitled, "Is There Any Knowledge a Man [sic] Must Have?"  As a precise linguistic term, "man" is the only word in the English language, so I have read, that includes absolutely every one.  In the beginning, after all, God created Man, in His own image, male and female God created them.  Not exact, I know, but I believe that is what the text used to say.  The RSV says Man, I noticed this morning, the NRSV says Humankind.  Well, I have been here long enough for several weeks, so this is me signing off.  I wish you all well, male and female, female and male, man and woman.  I did learn on the very late news last night that the American women have won 60 plus percent of the American gold medals.  One hopes that being a jerk is limited to only the male contingent, but human nature being what it is, I suppose that is too much to hope for, though I liked very much the first female black gold medal swimmer who felt truly "blessed" to be where she was.  And the 4 x 100 winners praying after their race?  They were very lovely ladies, perhaps as in the Song of Solomon, who knows?