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Late did I love you I had a very pushy voice tell me that I simply needed to update at this moment, so I am. Hopefully now it will leave me alone. Germany is wonderful, but right now Victor and I are going drinking, so I'll give a proper update later. -Aj I just wanted to tell everybody that Victor and I are alright. I meant to post sooner but...we got carried away. London is such a beautiful city - I always seem to forget how different Europe is. Jimmy - Everybody here says hi, and there is a bag of marbles on its way to you, but I don't know why. Victor says hi too - we're going to dinner now, I just thought I'd do a quick update. I'll have pictures later in the week. Yours, Jimmy & Victor Benedictus Dominus Deus Sabaoth in Saecula Saeculorum. Benedictus Euphemum. Benedictus Iacobus Matthaeus. Benedicta Ioanna. Benedictus Papa. Benedictus Elia. Benedicta Elisa. Benedictus Geoffreus de Monumetensis. Benedictus Geoffreus Chaucerus. Benedictus Arsamoris. Benedictus Dominus Byronis. Benedictus Thoma Edvardus. Benedictus Christoferus. Benedictus Nigerus. Benedicta Aemilia. Benedicta Maria. Benedicta Isabella. Benedictus Victorus. Benedictus Ioannes Ronaldus. Benedictus Aurelius Augustinus. Amen. Lord, I feel like I'm lost...as if every time I open my mouth I push people away from me. What good will that do, Lord? You can keep me apart from everybody here, but what can I accomplish alone? The disciples had companions...St. Peter even took his wife. Heck, if the Doctor can have them, why can't I? I think I scared Victor with my collection, and the Tolkien you made has changed a great deal. Although I like him...and I have pipe tobacco for him. Care packages from home never make sense until later, but I suppose that's part of the cosmic joke. Or at least Vergil's. I figured out the reincarnations...I knew it would just take some praying. I've started the essay...perhaps I'll let the school paper publish it if I can't get anybody else to. Dear Sartre, Voltaire, Camus, et alia, Congradulations. You finally have the society you always wanted. The might and majesty of God's Church, which gave the world art and music and literature unprecedented in the history of the world, has been overshadowed by an easily defeated enemy - the vile and loathesome radicals which have spit poison and called it Protestantism. Society has become so secularized that there is no middle ground between your nihilism which teaches men that they are animals and should look no higher than their own gratification and the vapid Bible-thumpers who teach that with a few words and no action one can share in the Grace and Salvation which was won with blood. You can have your way - Christianity lies broken, perverted by the heretics who hijacked the Faith so throughly nobody knows the difference anymore. Even the members of the Church cannot see when they are fed venom. Destroy James Dobson and Jack Chick and Fred Phelps and verily I say you shall inherit the Earth. Atheist society is in your grasp, gentleman. And there is only one tiny piece of Roma which might, might, be safe, and if I have to, I'll live out my days there. I...I can't believe it. He's up there. He did it. The Eucharist healed Ambrose. Jesus healed Ambrose. Forgive me for doubting, Lord. Forgive me. And thank you. Thank you more times than it is possible for a tounge to say it. After the experiences of Easter 2006, it's hard for me to say the rest of this, but I'd rather put it into words, even if nobody else will read it. Terry is Terry - she isn't intested in anything but that which is interior, and never will be. I'm not surprised. Ambrose just isn't into sex, so ditto for him. But the rest of them... They fell over Byron. I mean, he is pretty, but not so gorgeous that they should forget about me. I know I'm not a lot to look at, but something else should matter too, shouldn't it? Ovid and Vergil barely spoke to me all week, they were too busy drooling. I think Jimmy's interest is other than sexual, but that didn't stop him from getting awfully close. Of course, I got home and Eliza had left, so not even the emotional hermit could put up with me long enough to let me know she was leaving. Plus I know how much booze was in the bar and how much is in there now, and I know how to subtract: That's just not cool, Eliza. It seems so selfish of me to desire being desired, or at least cared about, but I fear it is a mortal passion I shall not conquer while I have a body. Lord, thou hast restored my faith in thee, my God, who art all good and almighty. I pray, take from me the jealousy I feel toward the others, that I might serve thee with all my mind and all my heart. Well, Brothers and Sisters, I'm home. I have returned his Lordship more or less in tact (although I think Ovid and Virgil showed him some things he won't soon forget) and have one more noble than I started with (Sir James Matthew Barrie, whose journal I pointed out previously). The Triduum in Easter is always amazing, but in Italian...it can hardly be beat by anything concieved of by mortal men. Although the liturgy 'Brose wrote comes pretty close. For those of you wondering, Ambrose is...fine. Better than I could ever hope for, actually. If you really want to know, I'll tell you in person. On Monday 'Brose, Terry, Ovid, Virgil, Mal, Nick, Jimmy, Byron and I took a roadtrip to Rome and shared a few suites at a hotel near the nightlife. After all the religion (Ambrose made everyone go to the Vigil) I felt I owed it to the others to show them a good time, so we celebrated the Grace of God with some old fashioned Heathen Immorality. Needless to say, Byron was completely in his element even without knowing the language. Although I did spend a day wandering from church to church. There are some things that just can't be avoided, I suppose. Very soon I would like to have a dinner for Jimmy. I have yet to meet several of you, and none of you have met him, so it seems most reasonable for us all to get aquainted. I promise not to let Byron get drunk and suggest Truth or Dare this time. Ciao bella, darlings. Comment or some find me or the other two to hear more about the trip. Even if it is spring, I love the drive on the Turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston. Although I'm not sure how much Byron appreciated me singing the song - I should stick to chants. Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anybody see what I see? Current music: Cool, Cool, Considerate Men - 1776. Lord, have mercy. My dearest Jimmy, |
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