It took me a while to figure out but I've reformatted the blog to make it more readable and searchable. I didn't think to put together tags for subjects and categories for years, which I now realize was a mistake. But at least now I've got the blog formatted so that you can go back and read posts by week rather than by month, and it's now possible to read a lot more of the archived blog entries if you'd never come across them before.
So if for some reason you care what I had to say about Anton Diabelli's guitar sonatas or his work as an engraver or something like that you can look that up. It would appear that the most popular point of reference for this blog is from people looking for a summary of Daniel Levitin's (sic?) book This is Your Brain on Music. So as far as that goes, I figure I could at least try to make it easier to access those blog entries if someone just stumbles on to the blog and wants to read the entries in order. Up until now the monthly archive hid most of the etnries in any given month. My apologies to any readers for that accidental quasi-Luddite approach to formatting.
For folks who read this blog because of that other frequently visited topic (you know, that one) this link is to a poem I wrote a few months after some things happened.
That clunky poem, dear readers, was the beginning of oblique ruminations on what was going on at my then church at that time. I started ruminating on the divided kingdom in Israel; on David taking a census and how this was a disastrous late career move; and those were oblique ways of discussing where I was at in my life at my old church. A clunky poem about an obscure biblical figure as a commentary on a pastor and his church For anyone who wonders about subtext the canary is not in the coal mine.
I was also starting to read Frank Schaeffer's Crazy for God, and the son's mercenary branding of himself as against his father Francis is another thing I at times write about. Frank's mediocrity seems to only be sustainable by cashing in against his father's legacy. In its way, though, this fits in with one of my perennial concerns about Christian men building legacies. Sometimes the legacy you build is something your kids trade in against as a way to make a living. Sometimes the legacy you invest in yourself turns out to be nothing more than a puff of air. Frank Schaeffer's pipe dream that his dad could have been a hero of the Religious Left does not fail to amuse me. Franky is apparently trying to make sure he takes the role that he now wishes his father had had, perhaps.
But enough rambling for the moment.