
Well, this should be fun.

Well, this should be fun.
Atop a pirate ship rides Peter Pan
All spring and dance and Dionysian grin.
"This happy place is Never Never Land,
Where time is not and youth has always been,
"Where prince and princess ever after live,
While paper dragons ever after roar
Outside the walls, where fairy spirits give
You all your heart sought after evermore."
What deed the hero's meant to do, he does,
The villain's laugh turns daily to dismay.
And nothing is that wasn't what it was
The day before the day before today.
It can't be otherwise. A place where real
Things happen is a place where real things end.
The costumes, props, and sets are all ideal,
But time is kept at bay. The walls are thin.

Finally.
It’s been a bumpy twelve months for Good Work, the print zine I started last year. After two smashing successes, we got off track and haven’t mailed an issue since… Last summer, I think? Above, you can see the cover of our latest issue, which I sent to the printer just the other day. Issue #4 is nearly ready for the graphic designer (Theme: Mend and Make Do). I reckon we’ll be able to assemble one more issue in 2024 (Theme: Leisure).
After that, who knows? It’s funny how cheap the digital world is compared to the real one. My digital newsletter, Time’s Corner, costs me nothing but… well, time. Producing a single issue of Good Work involves many hours of work for multiple people, printing and postage, not to mention the costs of renting a PO box and keeping the website alive. I’d like to say the finished product is worth it, but it’s tricky to measure success when your readers are silent and distant. The best thing about Good Work (being print-only) is also its most challenging thing. I’ve been spoiled by the instant feedback that comes with online publishing.
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The Architect stood forth and said:
“I am the master of the art:
I have a thought within my head,
I have a dream within my heart.
“Come now, good craftsman, ply your trade
With tool and stone obediently;
Behold the plan that I have made—
I am the master; serve you me.”
The Craftsman answered: “Sir, I will
Yet look to it that this your draft
Be of a sort to serve my skill—
You are not master of the craft.
“It is by me the towers grow tall,
I lay the course, I shape and hew;
You make a little inky scrawl,
And that is all that you can do.
“Account me, then, the master man,
Laying my rigid rule upon
The plan, and that which serves the plan—
The uncomplaining, helpless stone.”
The Stone made answer: “Masters mine,
Know this: that I can bless or damn
The thing that both of you design
By being but the thing I am;
“For I am granite and not gold,
For I am marble and not clay,
You may not hammer me nor mould—
I am the master of the way.
“Yet once that mastery bestowed
Then I will suffer patiently
The cleaving steel, the crushing load,
That make a calvary of me;
“And you may carve me with your hand
To arch and buttress, roof and wall,
Until the dream rise up and stand—
Serve but the stone, the stone serves all.
“Let each do well what each knows best,
Nothing refuse and nothing shirk,
Since none is master of the rest,
But all are servants of the work—
“The work no master may subject
Save He to whom the whole is known,
Being Himself the Architect,
The Craftsman and the Corner-stone.
“Then, when the greatest and the least
Have finished all their labouring
And sit together at the feast,
You shall behold a wonder thing:
“The Maker of the men that make
Will stoop between the cherubim,
The towel and the basin take,
And serve the servants who serve Him.”
The Architect and Craftsman both
Agreed, the Stone had spoken well;
Bound them to service by an oath
And each to his own labour fell.
(Discovered in Sayers’ The Man Born to be King)
This past summer I called Spectrum to see if they could lower the price of our internet service. Not only did they cut it in half, they threw in a free Galaxy tablet. It’s cheap as far as tablets go, but it has had a huge effect on my reading habits this year. Since I don’t really like reading books on the computer, I never really made use of the treasure trove that is the Internet Archive.1 For some reason, reading on a tablet doesn’t bother me as much, so I’ve been able to dive into all the books I can’t afford to buy. I prefer paper books, of course, as does any sane person, but it’s hard to argue with cheap. Books I read on the tablet are marked with a **double asterisk. One *asterisk means I read it on my Kindle.

Total: 68
They, who in matters of war seek in all ways to save their lives, are just they who, as a rule, die dishonorably; whereas they who, recognizing that death is the common lot and destiny of all men, strive hard to die nobly: these more frequently, as I observe, do after all attain to old age, or, at any rate, while life lasts, they spend their days more happily. This lesson let all lay to heart this day, for we are just at such a crisis of our fate. Now is the season to be brave ourselves, and to stimulate the rest by our example.
Xenophon, Anabasis
A man’s thoughts [when death draws near] seem to be double-powered, and the memory becomes very sharp and clear. I don’t know what was in the others’ minds, but I know what filled my own… I fancy it isn’t the men who get most out of the world and are always buoyant and cheerful that most fear to die. Rather it is the weak-engined souls who go about with dull eyes, that cling most fiercely to life. They have not the joy of being alive which is a kind of earnest of immortality … I know that my thoughts were chiefly about the jolly things that I had seen and done; not regret, but gratitude.
Dick Hannay in John Buchan’s Greenmantle
At first glance, these two quotes express the same thing, that those who cling to life never really live at all, and those who are willing to risk everything enjoy it all the more. But Hannay is able to trace his sentiment to a source that Xenophon (apparently) knew nothing of: gratitude.
I also love that phrase, an “earnest of immortality,” meaning, of course, a pledge or promise of things to come. The real joy of life comes in knowing there’s more life to come.
When I was in the process of conversion, it was, as it often is, terrifying. One of the things that was terrifying was that there was so much that I loved about being human—good fiction and music and intellectual adventures and experiencing nature and careful thinking—and I didn’t know how of all those human things would look in light of the Gospel, with all its urgency.
Susannah Black Roberts
I knew an old couple that sat many evenings out on their porch. Sometimes both, sometimes one. They’d sit longer into the night than seemed reasonable, as if they were waiting for something that never came. It wasn’t until after the disaster that I believed I understood why.
Every subsequent evening, almost the entire street went, and sat, and talked, and shared, and played, for hours, around THEIR porch. Stubborn habit? Or had they just never forgotten a normal that everyone else briefly remembered?
Source
[C]onsider that the only character in Encanto… who has experienced any significant real-life adventure is the heroine’s grandmother. And Abuela’s adventures, which happened long before the movie takes place, are portrayed as a traumatic backstory that results in her stifling her grandchildren’s self-actualisation. In effect, it’s a Disney princess adventure about the impossibility, under modern conditions, of making Disney princess adventures.
Mary Harrington