Ah, yes. Victory via technicality. (Kids can be so good at this sort of thing.)
Archive for March, 2011
The following is a chapter from my book Not Exactly Allies, which is now available on Kindle. When I get a few other projects out of the way, I’ll try to learn how to do what needs to be done to make trade paperback editions of my books, but for now I’m just trying to get them all on Kindle.
To some degree, this could be called an extraneous chapter. None of the major characters are in it, and it has nothing to do with the main storyline. In a book with a fair amount of action, this is a chapter with little action. (On the other hand, I can share the whole chapter with you, and not give you any spoilers. Such a deal.)
I have it in the book, for one thing, because it addresses the theme of what makes a good marriage, and that is a refrain I pick up again and again in the seriocomic series of which this book is a part. For another thing – you may cue the laugh track now – in the early drafts of this book, Philip was an important character, and quite a fun one, too. But, in the later edits, he wound up on the cutting room floor. Except for here. And while I happily sent other minor characters back into oblivion for the sake of a smoother read, I enjoyed this bit with Philip and Father Jules too much to kill him off entirely.
I hope you enjoy it, too.
93 – Father Jules and company
Father Jules called a meeting of the men of the church. Some of the women were offended that they were left out, but since many of them were perpetually offended, he was well practiced in ignoring their sniffs and cold looks. Some of the men, however, were quite concerned.
“You do not know how much trouble you are causing me with my wife, Father,” one man said. “Really, she thinks we are up to no good whenever men get together by themselves.”
“That is your problem,” Father Jules said. The men sputtered. Father Jules smiled at them. “You will just have to educate your women, gentlemen, or you will have to learn to assume an air of mystery. In any case, I want no apologies for this project. Do you understand me?”
“Not yet,” a man who looked like an athlete said, with the hint of a wink. “You must explain your project first, I think.” (more…)
Just for fun. (Via Rachel Balducci, who wonders if this is what she sometimes sounds like to her boys…)
Personal note: The first kids I babysat were twin boys. They developed a language of their own, with which they plotted all sorts of things, openly. They knew English, and used it when it suited them. But they were the only persons on the planet (as far as I know) who spoke DaveAndDoug-lish. I have to wonder if the above brothers are well on their way to something like that.
Having found that some readers did not understand the irony (i.e., did not get the joke) of his suggestion that we revive the art of dueling (I linked to that post, and a related article, here), David Bentley Hart clarifies that, and then goes on to give us a history lesson in “the cut,” which he suggests might be of some use in dealing with uncivilized people who crave, and all too often get, public attention.
As he points out along the way, if you don’t know what a “cut” is, you won’t understand some of the jokes and jests in literature. He gives examples.