Support the Finishing

Sometime I think that, even amidst all these ruptures and renovations, the biggest divide in media exists simply between those who finish things, and those who don’t. The divide exists also, therefore, between the platforms and institutions that support the finishing of things, and those that don’t.

Finishing only means: the work remains after you relent, as you must, somehow, eventually. When you step off the treadmill. When you rest.

Finishing only means: the work is whole, comprehensible, enjoyable. Its invitation is persistent; permanent. […] Posterity is not guaranteed; it’s not even likely; but with a book, an album, a video game: at least you are TRYING.

Robin Sloan

I didn’t know it at the time, but this was surely the impetus behind Good Work, a reaction against the endless “now” of social media. A print magazine must be finished before it be mailed to subscribers. When it’s finished, it’s done. It exits. The work has ended for now. You can rest.

In the new year, I plan to start a crowdfunding campaign for a limited run of Good Work. I think that’s the way forward: plan the issues, raise money, write, print, send. I’m sure I’ll cite Robin’s newsletter here in support of the project.

An Ambassador from the Transcendent World

Teacher: The modern world isn’t the only world there is, though. There is another world and it is at play right now—it’s a world behind the modern world, beneath it, beyond it—and you might need to walk around in this world “for more than ten minutes” in order to understand how things work there. [This book] is an artifact from this other world, and the way I’m interpreting it for you is a skill born of this other world. Every day during class, I do my best to present this world to you—to create entrances into it, so you can spend a little time there and see “how they do things there.” But, it’s difficult.  

Student: Why? 

Teacher: Because it’s not a physical place and I can’t force you to go there. It’s an intellectual place, a spiritual place, and the only way to enter this place is to genuinely want to be there—and you have to want to be there before you fully understand what it is.  

Student: I’ve never heard anyone say anything like this before.  

Teacher: That’s because it’s a bit alarming to hear it stated in such terms, even though it’s the most accurate way of describing it. 

Student: What is it? What is this other world? Does it have a name?  

Teacher: Yes. Your world, the modern world, is the immanent world. The other world is the transcendent world.    

Student: And what’s your relationship to the transcendent world? 

Teacher: As a classical teacher, I’m an ambassador of the transcendent world. My job is to present the transcendent world to you in such a way that you’ll want to take up residence there, be naturalized, and become a subject.   

~Gibbs

Obviously a conscious choice to use “subject” instead of “citizen” in the final sentence.

Present Laughter

To be conservative … is to prefer the familiar to the unknown, to prefer the tried to the untried, fact to mystery, the actual to the possible, the limited to the unbounded, the near to the distant, the sufficient to the superabundant, the convenient to the perfect, present laughter to utopian bliss. 

Michael Oakeshott

FOMO

Even the definition of FOMO itself has started to change. For millennials, FOMO meant fear of missing out on what was happening in the real world: physical experiences and events other people were enjoying. Now it seems to mean fear of missing out on what’s happening online: notifications, memes, group chats, TikTok trends, Snapchat Stories. For Gen Z, FOMO isn’t a harm of social media; it’s a motivation to use it. It’s what traps young people on TikTok and Instagram. They fear being left out of social media itself.

Freya India

Better Drowned than Duffers

I’m only a few chapters into Arthur Ransome’s Swallows and Amazons, but already I’m convinced that the children have some of the best parents in literature.

The Free Academy

Sometime in the eighties, my brother Evan and I, together with some others, started something we called the Free Academy of Foundations. This was actually the precursor to New St. Andrews, and it was basically a reading list of great books—Dante, Augustine, Calvin, et al. This was not a list of books we had read, but was rather aspirational instead—books we thought we ought to read. I think I made it through the list, but if not, I read a bunch of those books at the time. That is where my real education started.

Shortly after that, we started offering classes at Evan’s house. These were basically community enrichment classes. They did not go anywhere, and non-matriculation was the name of the game. I remember teaching a logic course there, and Nancy also taught a course in English grammar. But this is where the name New St. Andrews was first applied. I think it was Evan who suggested the St. Andrews, and I thought we should attach the New. After I became a Calvinist in 1988, Evan and I parted company in such joint ventures, and we agreed that I could keep the name New St. Andrews. We began offering the kind of classes that would culminate in a degree in 1994.

Doug Wilson

I find it fascinating to trace the headwaters of the institutions that have shaped me (Logos School, NSA, etc.). It’s good to remember their small beginnings—for example, as community enrichment classes that went nowhere. Until they did.

Ko-fi

I do most of my work on side projects for free. One day, Lord willing, Little Word will be financially sustainable, but for now, it’s a labor of pure love. We’re in the process of setting up a donor system, so if you want to help carry us through these early days, consider lending your support. I’ll let you know when it’s set up.

Good Work has a dedicated support page where you can donate via Stripe. I use every cent (and then some) for printing and mailing.

A friend asked me to enable payments on my newsletter, Time’s Corner, so you can support me financially via Substack, if you wish.

I do a lot of other writing, too. I post poetry and prose on this blog. I adapted The Scarlet Pimpernel into a play. I write articles for Theopolis, CiRCE, and occasionally, others. A (very) short story of mine will appear on the Silence & Starsong website soon. And there are other projects in the works.

Does that sound like a lot to keep track of? It is! If you want to support my work in general, without allocating it to a specific project, you can now do so via my Ko-fi page.