Wisconsin

It seems as though I've learned quite a few things about life and myself over the past three or four months. Unsurprisingly, however, as so often happens in life, this leads to more questions than answers. There is one thing that I have learned with a good deal of certitude, however, and that is that Wisconsin is my home.

Ever since I can remember I have longed to get out of the land of my birth. The cold weather, the lack of culture and non-camouflaged recreation left me feeling quite bored. I thought that the big city was where I belonged. I've always glorified New York City and imagined myself living there amongst the bustle of streets filled with people shadowed by the giant buildings of steel and brick scraping the sky high above. Indeed, I do still feel a certain affinity with that city which escapes me, but I've been awakened to the true nature of the big city, the coast etc.

Though not NYC, Washington DC was almost as exciting to me before I moved here. Though the city does not allow proper sky-scrapers, it has all the other hallmarks of a large, historical, and cultured town. Taxi cabs fly by. People are out at all hours of the night. Sirens can be heard every 20 minutes from my open apartment windows. There is always something happening and there is never a dull moment. Let me preface what I am about to say with this: I enjoy living here for the time being, if only because it is an experience from which I will hopefully pull some wisdom and growth.

That being said, I have no desire to live here for the rest of my life. I have no desire to live in NYC for the rest of my life. People are cold. Things are too loud. Those sky scrapers become nothing but albatrosses. And there are so few trees.

It has taken only a few months to discover, but I now deeply appreciate the place I had once forsaken. It seems as though the older I get the more I long for a quiet life in a cabin somewhere in the woods of northern Wisconsin. A beard, a few books with which to teach, and a family will allow me to die a happy man surrounded by nothing but the sound of birds and trees growing. (When life gets as quiet as He intended you can hear such things). No place in this world is perfect, but that cabin will do just nicely until Death creeps in under the door to pay me my last and most distinguished visit.

Simplicity, quiet, and kindness are such rare things in the world. They may very well be rare in Wisconsin as well, but not quite as much so as in many other places, as I am coming to see.

Perhaps the growing theme in my reflections here is a distaste, no... a hatred for the world. We want to "live life" and somehow that becomes synonymous with joining the world in revelry and frivolity. Perhaps ironically, it seems that to truly live life one must forsake the world and "hunker down", so to speak, with the few last glimpses of beauty and truth that the canopy of the modern world lets through. The city and contemporary man are convoluted and tangled messes. They have no direction and simply stumble loudly into one another without meaning. It's infectious and I am not surprised to see how it rubs off onto your own soul. It's mass hysteria.

But noise and bright, flashing lights don't make for a life well lived or fully experienced. In fact, they make quite excellent superficial diversions and distractions. They quell instead of quench the desire to truly live. In the quietness we truly experience life. Reflection and meditation are essential to not only experiencing, but pulling wisdom from our days. In the quietness we have room to be what we were meant to be. In the quietness there is freedom to recognize and appreciate those fleeting glimpses of beauty and truth.

There are two good examples that illustrate my point which immediately come to mind. The first is an anecdote told to my class by the great Monsignor Sokolowski. He once spoke with an old priest friend of his (who is now dead) about a visit that this friend had made to Egypt many years ago. This priest trekked out into the deserts of Egypt which are filled with true darkness unstained by the light pollution of modern civilization (especially so many years ago, before tourism and modernity had really struck Egypt). He said that the stars in the night sky absolutely radiate in that darkness and that the spectacle is too beautiful and surreal to allow for any sort of atheism or agnosticism. The ancients were blessed and their mythologies are fueled by this mirror of the Divine in those breathtaking skies. They made the Transcendent apparent. Monsignor Sokolowski extended this experience by saying, "That's why everyone is so crazy in New York. They never see the stars." A brilliant man.

The second thing that comes to mind is another brilliant man, one of my great heroes, Henry David Thoreau. For those unfamiliar, Thoreau wrote one of the greatest nonfiction works of Western literature in Walden which is a collection of essays and journals from his time living on Walden Pond in a small cabin built by himself deep in the Massachusetts woods. He lived as simply as possible, building his own cabin, growing and killing his own food etc. His one modern luxury were books. Walden is a masterpiece (even though Thoreau was a Romantic and quite off in many regards). There are countless quotations in that text which sum up my thoughts about living life quietly, simply, and well. They say more than I ever could. Here are a few of those gems:

A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone.

As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.

I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.

In what concerns you much, do not think that you have companions: know that you are alone in the world.

In wildness is the preservation of the world.

Men have become the tools of their tools.

Most are engaged in business the greater part of their lives, because the soul abhors a vacuum and they have not discovered any continuous employment for man's nobler faculties.

Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify.

Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.

That man is the richest whose pleasures are the cheapest.

The cost of a thing is the amount of what I call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.

To regret deeply is to live afresh.

Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.

Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention from serious things. They are but improved means to an unimproved end.

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.

When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

Peace and Quiet be with you.

Taylor

Thank You

It's really pretty late and I should be sleeping, but I just wanted to take some time to thank you who read this blog and who are good souls. These past few months have been really hard for me for reasons that I've talked to some of you about.

It's funny how people can still make you feel pretty crappy about life even when you know they aren't good for you. Life really is beautiful and it's too bad that we all get caught up in so much garbage. As bummed as I've been, and as lonely as I've gotten at times, it's been ok because you've reminded me that there are always people who have your back.

I don't know why the world is as messed up as it is. I don't know why relationships seem to only bring hurt to the people I know, but I do know we're doing the right things. There is a beauty in that and a weight is taken off the shoulders.

The older that I get the more I realize how sick the world is. The modern era is the most immature of all eras. Gone are the concepts of common decency and commitment.

Am I bitter? Sure. But, I think that's a normal response to these sorts of things. It's tough to have someone so radically reject your well-being as a person, especially someone who you've cared for and been cared for by.

In the end, you're left with only a quiet resolution that you're better off, even if it doesn't feel like it at the moment. Life, like God, is mysterious and there is a curious way for scars to turn into sources of real wisdom and growth. I've already learned so much about how to treat people and care for them unconditionally. Some of those things are learned in a beautiful way, some of them, unfortunately, are a bit more painful. How we learn them doesn't really matter as far as the effect it brings to our lives. It's important to take wisdom and not revenge from injury.

Hope is important. I'm far, far from perfect (believe me), however, I know that someday I'll give my life for someone. As God is my witness, by his grace I'll die in some way for someone someday. Everyone deserves that and it was for this I was made. I couldn't have done that in the situation I was in. We all want to be loved and appreciated. We all want someone to meet us where we are, take the veil off of our facade, and truly love whoever it is we really are underneath. That's a special thing and we shouldn't settle for anything else.

I wasn't always who I should have been. In fact, I was far from it at times. But I do know that I gave it my all and learned to love, in some senses, unconditionally. It is tempting to feel wronged and to wish we'd never put ourselves in such a vulnerable position. It is tempting to regret it. I don't. The world may make you feel it, but that doesn't change the character of our actions. We can't become that which we rebel against (even if the people in our lives do) and so we continue on as best as we know how.

Too often people sell themselves short in this world. Too often people are too afraid or simply incapable of loving or being loved in a meaningful way. We should especially keep these people in our prayers. This world, our very inheritance, has robbed us of the natural goods we desire as human beings. These are injustices, but we have nothing to do but shrug them off and try to keep loving as Christ loved. There are a million choice words I'd like to use, but what good would that do? I'm thankful that God has given this sinner a clear sight on some of these issues. It doesn't make things easier now... and maybe it won't ever make things better in this life, but it's the only real option.

We must continue to love the eternal in a fallen and unjust world. On the other side of being unwilling to love in the face of injustice lies the other extreme which is to buy into the perversion of the world. It is infinitely important that we not fall into this extreme either. As the prayer says, "Stand by me that I may not be dazzled by the glitter and glow of the enemy camp." A hatred for the world that we live in is crucially important. As T.S. Eliot once said, "There is no more repulsive spectacle than an old man who will not forsake the world, which has already forsaken him." The world has forsaken all of us and will ultimately leave us alone and dying. In some senses, it is our Judas, the one who betrays us with a kiss of "glitter and glow." May we keep our eyes steadfastly on things eternal.

People can trick you and trick themselves into thinking they are something that they aren't. There's really nothing elegant one can say about that. It is what it is. You try to learn to not repeat the mistakes you've made yourself or those done to you. Then you hope to be able to give that suffering a meaning and make a better life for yourself and someone else in the future. The falling, the sadness, that is all inevitable. And so, instead of being upset I'm just going to thank you all for your support. It's not always easy to talk about these sort of things and perhaps it seems a bit dramatic, but you learn a thing or two by losing something so important in your life when you're already so far removed from everything and everyone else who means anything to you. One of those things I've learned is that life is short. Another is that we don't take the time to tell the people in our lives how important they are to us and how much their care and kindness means to our well-being. I am well because of you. If that's sappy then so be it. It had to be said.

News and Classes

I haven't written or kept up with this blog in the past few months nearly as much as I wanted to. There has really been a lot that has gone on in my life since I've moved out here and that kept me from wanting to blog at all. I'm setting a new goal, however, to pick up where I left off and begin writing at least twice a week on here.

In looking at the calendar it appears that I have been out here for about 3 months. In some ways, it feels like it has been a long time. I've grown into school and my schedule. Things like the subway went from being a novelty to something I hate getting out of bed to do. In other ways, it doesn't seem so long ago that I came out here. No matter how settled I get here, it always feels like I'm at a home away from home. I'm looking forward to seeing you all again at Thanksgiving time. It'll probably be the first Thanksgiving that has meant much to me, to be honest.

About my classes... I have 4, like a normal undergraduate semester, but we spend a little less time in class than in undergrad. As far as difficulty, I can say that things are definitely taken up a level from undergrad. The reading, concepts,and discussions are often times much more academic than anything I have experienced before. In some senses, this is a breathe of fresh air. It is challenging, but in a good way. I can say that I don't feel as if the material goes over my head by any means and that I have probably learned more in this semester than I learned in 4 years of undergrad. I was really worried before I started getting grades back on midterms and papers, but it turns out I did pretty well on everything. That went a long way to make me comfortable with my current lot in life. I suppose I could say a bit about each of my individual classes, but first a word about studying theology at the grad level in general...

Theology is basically broken into 4 broad schools that are quite different. Historical theology is just what it sounds to be. The historical theologian studies how theology has progressed since the Ascension and looks into the major and minor schools and movements. It is history, plain and simple, and is perhaps of the most value for apologetics (which is so sorely needed), particularly in addressing Protestantism. This is the type of theology that Adam Horn is going into. Moral theology is the second major type. This type is quite self explanatory again. Moral theologians study the nature of morality and how to interpret and speak about specific acts, their consequences, and their relation to both man and God. Biblical exegesis is the third major school of theology. These are the theologians who study and interpet Scripture. They must be fluent in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. And finally, in my opinion the most important school of theology (wink), we have the Systematics. Systematic theology is an attempt to create a unified picture of existence and the Catholic faith through study of the nature of God. When you think of theology and take out specific questions of morality or exegesis you are usually left with things under the jurisdiction of the systematics (though by the nature of being systematic in theology, this school must include morality and Scripture as fundamental to the whole scope of theology).

My classes:

History and Method of Theology



This is Fr. John Galvin who teaches my History and Method class which is basically a broad overview of the history of Catholic and Protestant theology. We focus mostly on the different forms and approaches to Theology from the early Patristic period of the Church up until the current time. I have learned a lot from this class, but it is also extremely boring. Fr. Galvin, God bless him, is one of the driest men I have ever met. He lectures the entire class period. I must say, however, that he is an amazingly kind man. He spent a decent amount of time on the phone with me this summer answering questions and helping me register as my advisor was out of state. He remembered me and introduced himself on the first day of class and often comes up to chat about small pleasantries after class. He is a good priest and a very intelligent man.

Introduction to the Christian Moral Life

I'm always rolling my eyes about this class because it is straight up moral theology and I'm in Systematics. I suppose there could be a friendly rivalry between the two. That being said, I have learned an unbelievable amount from this class. We have focussed on St. Thomas (CUA appears to be a very Thomistic school) and the nature of man and God in this class. That has lead us to a thorough look into each of the cardinal and theological virtues as well as concepts like freedom, happiness, and conscience. St. Thomas is the most influential theologian in Church history and though he is the theologian that is most widely accepted as the greatest authority of Catholic theology, he is not the only one. There are people who look to Bonaventure or Don Scotus for their entire slant in theology. I now see that I am a hardcore Thomist and will be narrowing further and further in solely Thomist theology as I progress through school.

Dr. Mattison III teaches this class. He's a fairly young professor out of Notre Dame who gets really excited about being a moral theologian. He is quite orthodox and begins each class with a prayer (which still, because of my public school undergraduate education, seems so strange). He also sounds exactly like Conan O'Brien when he talks. If you closed your eyes during class you'd picture Conan going on about fundamental option theory, freedom for excellence, and Veritatis Splendor. I had an oral midterm with Dr. Mattison. I had to meet at his office and he grilled me on several topics we covered throughout the semester. I was initially nervous, but I ended up doing quite well. One of the biggest differences between graduate school and undergraduate is that the professors know exactly who you are and they take the time to be very available to you. They go out of their way to be friendly and personable, which seems especially true with the Masters students (as opposed to the seminarians). They are training future colleagues and you really are respected as a student and novice scholar which is intimidating and refreshing at the same time.

Theological Latin

I couldn't find a picture of my professor for Latin, Fr. David Thayer, but he looks a lot like the actor Brian Cox, only a lot more intimidating. This guy is old school in every sense. He yells if you aren't translating correctly. He'll make belittling comments to the students. He'll put you on the spot and then send you to the board in front of the whole class where he will continue to make you so nervous you consider dropping out of school and getting a job driving a truck. He stands outside O'Boyle Hall smoking a cigarette both before and after class. I have many middle-aged or older seminarians, brothers, and laymen in my class and he scares them just as much as those of us in our mid 20s. It's hilarious to watch other people at the board squirm because it just looks and feels too much like elementary school when Sr. Paula would all but get the ruler out of on me. It was really awkward the first few weeks of school when I would have to walk past him smoking to get to class. I was afraid to not say hello, but I was more afraid to look at him much less say anything. He'll say, "Good morning, Mr. O'Neill." And I say, "Morning Fr. Thayer. How are you?" "Fine," in the crabbiest voice imaginable. Haha.

Now, I must say, Fr. Thayer is really a very nice and funny guy. He jokes around in class quite a bit and after having him for a semester now I can tell that he isn't as mean as he appears (and I'm pretty sure he likes me. He's nicer to me than some of the others). He uses this all as a tool, I think, and is quite gentle underneath. That being said, he'll switch from joking mode to yelling about the ablative case in a matter of seconds. He's sarcastic and will let you just stand there looking like an idiot even when he knows you have no clue whether such and such verb is in the past perfect or pluperfect tense. Eventually you just start guessing and that only makes him more mad.

This class is tough. Latin isn't easy, especially for English speakers. The vocabulary is often similar, but English stresses word order. If you take any sentence in English and jumble the words up it makes no sense. Latin doesn't care about any of that. You can write the same sentences in 20 different ways and orders and it all means the same thing. Instead of using order to give meaning, Latin makes you know about 40 endings for every noun, verb, adjective etc. They all have to be in agreement and nouns are given different endings depending on how you use it. If the "sword" is the subject of the sentence it is in the nominative case and is "gladius" If it is the direct object it's in the accusative case and is "gladium." If you are talking about a sword as a matter of means it could be in the ablative case and be "gladio."

You get the point. The tough thing is that there are a handful of cases and several "declensions" where noun endings change and blah blah blah. It's difficult. The nice thing is that it is Pass/Fail and I passed my midterm and translations. I think I should be alright even though the class moves really fast. We have to be able to translate any of the New Testament and St. Aquina's Summa Theologica by the end of one semester, which is pretty intense.

Theological Functions in Philosophy

This is my best class. Monsignor Robert J. Sokolowski is one of the big boys here at CUA (the Philosophy department is even better than Theology). He's quite respected and well-known in the philosophical community and has written several widely used works on Hermeneutics, among other things.

He has more than a touch of Renner to him. Monsignor Sokolowski is perhaps one of the finest men I have ever had the pleasure of coming into contact with. He is the model Christian and academic. He is exceedingly smart, perhaps a genius, and yet is very humble and personable. He's charismatic and genuinely hilarious in a very understated way. It's hard to describe, but I imagine he exudes some of the same magic one would feel if they met C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien. If I explained to you the funny things that he says or the way he says them it would be lost, but suffice it to say that he is captivating. He's the only person I've ever met who opens one up to the Truth in such an effective way as Mr. Renner. And they both love to draw stick figure pictures to explain complex theological and philosophical concepts. Monsignor calls them his "phantasms." Haha. I wish a few of you could sit in on just one of his classes.

This class is more or less his work on the importance of what he calls the Christian Distinction and how Catholic theology and philosophy (and the errors in those fields outside the Church) can be completely understood in relation to the Christian Distinction. I'm sure I'll speak with some of you about it over a pint of plain when I get home, but the Christian Distinction is the radical transcendence of God from the universe. From that one point it is amazing how much of the universe can be understood.

I'm eternally grateful that all of my professors are very orthodox. For the first time in my life, I don't have to unlearn what I'm taught in class. Every one of them is a pretty amazing human being and teacher all around. This is the way Catholic education (and education in general) is supposed to be. It takes on such a vastly different form than everything else we are used to.

So anyway, as I said I'm going to keep this updated pretty regularly from now on. I've had a lot of interesting experiences out here. I hope to write some more about some of them and I intend to make sure I am writing about the ones to come. I'll be home in a week for Thanksgiving so don't be a stranger.

Dominus Vobiscum,

Taylor

The Darkling Thrush

by Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Some Pictures

So I'm working on finishing my first paper of grad school. Hopefully I'll be done with it by tonight. As I mentioned in my last post, I'm intending on getting pictures of my apartment up soon as well as writing about my classes and the Sufjan show coming up on Sunday. Those things will have to wait for another night, however.

For now, here are some pictures of my apartment door (riveting really) and the Basilica. They don't really do it justice. I'd like to get up some pictures of my campus too, because it is old and pretty, but that'll have to wait as well. Someone's sister stole my camera for about 4 months and might as well have thrown it against a wall. It's being difficult.

Don't forget to look at the last picture in the album. I'm not sure why, but the centerpiece of the Basilica is a huge mosaic of Jesus... and he sure looks mad.

The slideshow is small so you can just click on it and it should link you to the original, full-size pictures if you want. (You click play, Mom. Then you can click through the pictures).

Lol

This is the commercial I come home to every night. I laugh every time.


I haven't posted anything on here in awhile. I'm going to make a pledge that I start updating this at least weekly, if not more so. I've been here for over a month and one thing I have learned from life is that at times you can remain quite static for long periods of time, perhaps even years, and yet, other times so much can change in one month. The past 4 weeks (or so) have changed my life in a lot of ways. Nothing monumental has happened. I haven't had an epiphany or anything, but considering the circumstances I feel like a different person than I was when I left, in at least some perhaps small, but very significant ways.

To anyone who may read this blog, I miss you and love you. I look forward to seeing you all at Thanksgiving. I wish that we all had more time to speak.

I promised Mandy pictures of my apartment. I also want to write something about this upcoming Sunday night which should prove to be one of the more memorable and anticipated nights of my life. Sufjan Stevens. Bowery Ballroom New York, NY. I'm as giddy as a school girl. I am also planning on writing a bit about my classes and teachers. Mix all of that with general melodramatic ramblings about life and I should have plenty of material to keep this updated.

Until then, here is a video that I shot with my iPhone (R.I.P.) on Labor Day Weekend. All of a sudden I heard some fireworks right outside my window. I think they were coming from The National's Stadium in celebration of the holiday. They were pretty.

Talk to you all soon,
Taylor

Some Occurrences and Observations

It's been a week since my last blog and I believe that I have gotten accustomed a bit to living in Washington D.C. It's a very interesting place and I'm already begining to pick up on all the differences between big city, East-coast living and life in Wisconsin.

This is a big city and so things naturally move at a quick pace. Weekday mornings, noons, and 5 o'clock rush hour pack the subways absolutely full. The subway is always a great place to people watch. It is truly the great equalizer, at least in this city. I can think of nowhere else where you will find upperclass businessmen, construction workers, students, whites, blacks, hispanics, asians, those who must be wearing nearly $1,000 dollars in clothing, and those with dirty rags not only together, but sitting almost on top of each other, rubbing shoulders and sharing space while they zoom off to jobs, places, and experiences as varied as their appearances.

The hustle and bustle of the weekday is sharply constrasted by the relatively quiet atmosphere of the weekends. The Congressmen have presumably all flown home. Those who live outside the city stay there. As I mentioned in a previous blog, the city holds more than a million people during the work week. Most make the commute in from Maryland or Virginia either for the day or the week. At week's end, however, all those people go home and the city is left only with those who truly reside here. That number is nearer to 500,000. Effectively, the city's population is reduced by half on the weekends. That's still a large number and don't get me wrong, things are still extremely busy compared to anything you'll find in Green Bay or Madison, much less Oshkosh (just venture up to DuPont or Chinatown on a Saturday night and you'll find hundreds if not thousands of people bar hopping or just hanging around). The relative peace and quiet of the weekends is a nice break, however. Days feel lazy. People walk their dogs, go for rides, sit in the park. Sunday afternoons remind me of the midwest.

One of the things that took (and perhaps is still taking) time to get used to is being a minority. Growing up in Oshkosh, I did have contact with different ethnicities, albeit on a very limited scale. Washington DC is about 65% African American and 32% white and that does take getting used to. I've never known what it felt like to be the only person of a given race in a situation. It's easy to underestimate the strangeness of that feeling until you're actually in that situation. Many times I walk into the CVS Pharmacy by my apartment I'm the only white person. Most of the time that I'm in the Safeway Grocery Store by my apartment I'm one of maybe 2-3 white people. It doesn't bother me and I hope that no one mistakes what I am saying for racism. I mean merely to point out one of the ways that my life here is much different than at home. Indeed, I think that the strangeness of being a minority has all but worn off. I think it has been and will be a learning experience. If anything, it's only further strengthened my convictions about the equality of all men. I don't feel any different from the people whom I live around and grocery shop with. We're all just hungry. There's a beauty in this sort of desegregation that most of us must take for granted in the modern world. I don't ever get the feeling that anyone is thinking about the color of my or anyone else's skin and that's such a Catholic atmosphere.

The people here are busy and perhaps a bit more "professional" in their demeanor, but I am also surprised at how often people are outgoing and kind to strangers. I think I anticipated the East-coast demeanor to be less personable than it really is. This doesn't mean that things are the same as the midwest, however. When you go into a store it is rare (or at least much less likely than at home) for the cashier to say hi or ask you if you found everything ok. Most of the time they won't even tell me how much I owe. I try and at least say thank you when they hand me my things. Sometimes they respond, sometimes they don't. But, for every couple stiff responses or times you're ignored there are people who are generally very friendly and helpful. I've seen people obviously confused on the subway and someone will always stop to help them out. People will get up and stand in order to let an elderly woman or handicapped man take their seat on the subway. The security guards at the grocery store not only told me I was dropping money on the way out one day, but we had a good laugh about it. I was riding my moped in the city the other day and I heard a woman in the car next to me say, "I know you didn't ride that moped all the way from Wisconsin." (She was referencing my license plates). I ended up getting into a little conversation with this woman while we were stopped at the red light. It turned out that she was from Milwaukee and so of course knew exactly where Oshkosh was. Things like that make DC a more pleasant place to live. It gets a bad rap.

Yes, there are security guards at the grocery store. And at the Target. And pretty much everywhere else. I can only assume, using superior logic, that it is because they are actually needed. I've lived here for about two weeks now (counting the week when we moved my junk) and I've never seen or been in an experience that looked unsafe. I think all of the security guards must have something to do with that. The police presence is something new as well. When you ride past the Capital there is literally at least one if not two or three cops standing at no greater than 12 feet apart all around the huge area that the Capital sits on. I suppose this is necessary. My apartment also must be the area where the helicopters that circle the White House and Capital turn around. Every day, maybe once an hour, these two huge military helicopters fly in low and turn around just outside my window. It's intense.

It's also eye-opening to see how hard a lot of people here have it. Many of the people that I live around are quite poor and their lifestyle is so different from what I'm used to. It is very normal here at the grocery or any other kind of store for customers to put their items on the counter or conveyor belt and tell the cashier the order to ring in the items. Many people simply don't have much money and so they grab what they think they can afford and they have to watch as the cashier rings up their stuff. They take the most important things first and the things that they don't need last. If they go over they ask the cashier to put the leftovers back. They don't just buy them because they grabbed them. They don't have the money. It makes me more appreciative of the situation that I was blessed into.

The sacramental options in this city are astounding. Not only are there like 7 daily mass options as the Basillica on campus, but there is also two daily masses at the parishes throughout the city (one of which is walking distance from my apartment). Confessions are heard daily at that parish and all the others, not to mention that they are heard for about 6 hours daily at the Basillica as well. That might be seriously be one of the greatest blessings I've ever had in my life.

I found a parish to attend on Sundays. St. Mary Mother of God is located in Chinatown and I attend the Traditional Latin Mass there at 9 on Sunday mornings. They have been having the TLM there (1962 missal) since long before Pope Benedict's motu proprio unleashed the Latin Mass to all priests, so this parish looks to have a very healthy and devoted group of Traditional Catholics. I could, and probably will, speak at much greater length about the Latin Mass and Traditional Catholicism in a different blog, but suffice it to say that the beauty is astounding. I have thought of myself as a Traditional Catholic for awhile and now I finally have the TLM available to me every week. The men almost all wore suits and the women almost all wore veils and beautiful 1920's style Great Gatsby dresses. I finally feel so at home.

My greatest joy of my entire experience here so far was the priest at my new parish. It almost brings tears to my eyes just thinking of him now. I couldn't ever describe him even nearly as well as I should, but he's truly an inspiring priest. You couldn't even imagine my surprise when this older, chubbier man walked to the lectern and began giving his homily... in the Queen's English! Now, if you know much about history then you will know that English Catholics have been a rarity at least since the reign of Bloody Mary. Englishmen are Anglicans and Anglicanism is (or was) so close to Catholicism that it just kicked out and replaced the Church in England since King Henry VIII and the English Reformation. I can honestly say that I've rarely seen an English Catholic on television (if I ever even have) much less one in real life. Much less one that is a priest. Much less one that is the priest of my TLM new parish. Much less in the middle of Washington DC. Needless to say, it's strange and I'd love to hear his story.

Anyway, this isn't the greatest part. He began his homily on the Theological virtues. I leaned in and listened, still astonished by his accent. As he started speaking I realized that everything about him reminded me of someone. His demeanor, his accent, definitely his thinking and speaking style, and even his appearance. This is C.S. Lewis! You may all think I'm a nerd and that's fine, but I love Mr. Lewis like I knew the man. He's been at least as influential in my life as many of the people that I actually know and his work echos eternally in my own existence and my own eternity. As I mentioned in my first post, if Mr. Renner isn't the man to introduce me to heaven (God willing that I make it; Lord have mercy on such a reprobate as myself) it will undoubtedly be Mr. Lewis. You get the idea of how happy I was with this priest. He must be a Lewis fan. Maybe it's his cousin. His homily was straight Lewis in style, presentation, wording, and even personality. He was so reverent and yet witty that you couldn't help but chuckle. I will paraphrase a few of the best moments that I can remember from his homily and the Lewis readers should be able to pick him up immediately. "Faith is essentially spoken of in two different ways. Faith can mean the actual things that we believe about God and it can mean the act of trusting in God. When we pray for an increase in faith we aren't asking God to give us new bits about Him to think about (haha), but to increase our trust and clinging to Him." "Faith, Hope, and Love are called the Theological virtues because they pertain to God. Faith in God, Hope in God, and Love in God. They are not named Theological because theologians necessarily do them. In fact, I've always made the argument that in the modern world it's quite the opposite." There were many more great lines that I can't remember. You had to be there, I suppose. Everything in him rings with Lewis. God bless that priest and I can't wait for next Sunday to hopefully hear him speak again. It's such a great preparation for the Eucharist.

Another interesting note about my parish, it is also the parish of famous politician and political commentator Pat Buchanan. If you don't know who Pat Buchanan is you are missing out. I've followed and loved the guy for a few years now so I was so happy to find out that I'd be going to the same church as him. He's one of the few last true conservatives in the country (not the neo-cons we've had for decades) and probably the only truly Catholic politician that I can think of. He's got a way about him that allows him to get away with things no one else could. He's really feisty and politically incorrect and gets into hot water quite a bit. He's also one of the only conservatives who calls out the so-called conservative Republican party. He's on television often, usually cable news networks.

He talks about race a lot and reverse discrimination. Here's Mr. Buchanan on Republican and Bush Cabinet Member Colin Powell endorsing Democrat Obama for the President:


Mr. Buchanan on Affirmative Action:


Mr. Buchanan on McCain:


Lol:


Anyone interested should check out Pat vs. The Neo-Cons as well. He's one of the last bastions of political truth in this country.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugesi_gaqLU

Anyway, he was at mass and seemed extremely kind. A lot of the parishioners said hello to him and he said hello and talked with a few people after mass. Awesome guy.

What? You didn't think my blog would get political? I moved to Washington D.C.


I started classes today, but I only had one and it was introductory. I intend to write another entry either tomorrow or Wednesday more particularily about school. I can tell you that things went well on my first day and that I am very excited about seeing what the next few weeks bring.

Dominus Vobiscum,
Taylor

I'm Here

Well... I finally made it here. The train ride wasn't too bad. I left Milwaukee at 3 and got into Chicago at about 4:30 yesterday. I had a bit of a wait and then we left out of Chicago at about 7. The train seems to have gotten a bit behind at some point. I remember going to bed at about 4:30 AM Eastern time and waking up at about 5:30 in Pittsburgh. And then I'd wake up again... and we'd still be in Pittsburgh. And then again. And again. I started getting freaked out that I was in some even crueler version of Groundhog's Day: Pittsburgh Edition. Thankfully I eventually got up and saw Pittsburgh no more.

I got into DC around 2:30ish and got on the subway to go home. My bags were heavy and big. It was kind of a chore to move them around on a weekday in the subway.

Now I have a week with very little to do before classes start on Monday. My only plans are to drive around on the moped and try to get some of my routes to downtown and school figured out. I think I'll also go to the Smithsonian sometime this week. Maybe some shopping. Probably a lot of sleeping. On Saturday there is a grad student orientation thing. I suppose it might be a good idea to go.

I'm sure I'll post something a bit more meaningful about my first few days here, but right now I'm too lazy and tired from the train ride.

I know a number of people were asking for me to post up pictures of my apartment. Unfortunately, I forgot my digital camera on the counter at my parent's house. It is on it's way out here, however, and I will post up some pictures as soon as it gets here.

Dominus Vobiscum,
Taylor

The Schlemiel

As I mentioned in my last post, I have what would probably be called an unhealthy obsession with pain and suffering. Though I envy and deeply respect the mass of men that shrug off pain and courageously take all things in stride, I also have a philosophical and emotional interest in suffering itself. The brightest men I know seem to put much concentration here. Indeed, suffering has to be one of the chief concerns and questions on our mind. All else is illogical.

Perhaps the great contradiction in my worldview is the strong inner pull toward two conflicting approaches to pain. I call it Woody Allen vs. The Church.

I owe Nick for introducing me to the great modern Jewish comedians, specifically Woody and Jerry Seinfeld, though I must admit that when I "met" them I found them eerily familiar. The first time I watched Annie Hall my girlfriend turned and stared at me with a look that could only be described as half pity and half disgust saying over and over, "Oh my gosh. That is sooo you." If this sounds prideful, perhaps it is, but I am only happy to be lumped into this sorry clique because I so greatly identify with it. Indeed, any person hoping for an answer of Woody Allen when asking a loved one who they reminded them of would be deemed a very pitiful creature.

But alas, we are who we are. Now, I speak of Woody Allen vs. The Church not because one gives suffering a prominent place in their worldview while the other doesn't. They both are focussed very much on the idea of pain, but they approach the topic in vastly different ways. I could wax poetically about the differences, but let's be pithy. The Church sees suffering as a means to perfection, the greatest sign of love, and the center of human contact with a Divine Savior that suffered completely selflessly for men who reject Him. Woody Allen whines alot.

Perhaps it was my upbringing or genetics or some combination of both, but I must admit that it is within my nature to feel very sorry for myself. Woody Allen is a self-centered, anxiety ridden, neurotic hypochondriac. Unfortunately I identify completely. But because of all his difficulties with pain, modern living, women, social situations, love, loss, fitting in, and being happy I view him absolutely as my anti-hero of choice. Woody Allen (and his louder, but equally depressed and hapless brother George Costanza) feel what I feel and think what I think. They are the only ones who are worth a serious conversation with in this world.

I bring this up only because I find it interesting and because perhaps those who know me will understand me, and thus this blog, better because of it. One of my favorite moments in cinema is the first moments of Annie Hall. He sums up life so well.




I'm not sure what creates the melancholy, introspective, socially uncomfortable & eccentric, self-induced nervosa type, but there appear to be a number of people out there who know how I feel. Maybe Nick is the only one reading this blog who gets it. I'd like to be able to explain it, but when you watch and listen to Woody Allen you either completely understand every word and feeling that he expresses or you think he's annoying. That's about all there is to that.

Of course, the greatest men that I've come into contact with seem to take Woody's obsession with suffering and turn it into something positive instead of self-pity, which some of us are so easily inclined to do. Instead of thinking how others mistreat them and how the world misunderstands them they let go of themselves and try to figure out how to serve others. As far as I'm concerned, this is where every human being needs to be, but getting rid of Woody isn't easy, and even so, I think there is something appealling about a guy who knows just what's wrong with life and how to sum it up in an intelligent and funny way. I also think there is something to be said for a grave distaste for those who are truly considered charming, handsome, beautiful, funny, classy, sophisticated, rich, famous etc. (See above picture). Detractors will say it's jealousy, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, maybe we can salvage something even greater from Woody. It is my opinion, that his view of the world is much healthier than many others in the modern world. He focusses on things of importance and calls a spade a spade. He has the great cosmic problem of suffering fueling all of his questions and concerns in life. He just doesn't know exactly yet how to properly view it and use it. In my last post I mentioned Catholicism and Buddhism being the two religions of suffering. Woody's head is stuck in the sands of Buddhist philosophy (whether he knows or it or not), but he may very well be one look upward from finding peace and that, in my opinion, is more than you can say for most people.


Perhaps all of this about Woody Allen vs. The Church can be best described by Woody himself...




Though I would certainly disagree with him about many things, Woody Allen is as smart as he is funny. He's one theological step (albeit a very big one) from having the potential to be holier than either.

Long live the Schlemiel!

Dominus Vobiscum,
Taylor

P.S. Again, many thanks to Semenas. He discovered the Schlemiel in our group of friends and it is his picture I used for this post. For that I am forever in his debt.

"Why do I get pesto? Why do I think I'll like it? I keep trying to like it, like I have to like it. Everybody likes pesto. You walk into a restaurant, that's all you hear: pesto, pesto, pesto. Where was pesto ten years ago?"

What's Happening...

I just returned home from moving all of my stuff out to my apartment in DC. The weather was beautiful and the move went about as easily as something like this could.

My apartment is beautiful, clean, and really homey. I'm moving into an apartment that was completely remodeled after it changed owners just about a year ago. I'm probably only the second person to ever live in my apartment and it shows. With the exception of a small ding in the floor it basically looks brand new and still has some of that elegant dry wall smell. It's a really trendy apartment building with really modern layouts, dark wood floors, and ceiling to floor windows. If my apartment were one floor higher I'd be able to see the river, but as it is I have a really nice view. I can see the waterfront community and watch airplanes coming and going from the airport just across the river. The other tenets seem to be, for the most part, students and young professionals from 20-30 years old. I'll post up some pictures of the place when I get back in a couple weeks.

The area is called the Southwest Waterfront. DC is divided into 4 major quadrants and I'm living in the SW quadrant. NW is downtown and contains most of the museums, shops, and monuments that you think of. I'm less than a mile from The Capital and the Smithsonian, about a mile from the White House, and a few blocks from Nationals Stadium. I'll drive past the Washington Monument and The Capital on my ride to school every morning. There is a Metro subway station just a few feet from my apartment building so I can be anywhere in DC in just a matter of minutes. The area around my apartment is one of the up and coming areas of DC. There is a mall being built right next door to my apartment and a huge outdoor stage/arena right across the street.



This isn't the best map of DC, but you can see the major landmarks. I'm living pretty much exactly where you see the dot that says Southeastern University (towards the bottom right of the map). It's even closer to downtown than the map makes it look because DC is extremely small in actual geographical size. If you look at the key you can see how much space .6 miles stretches through the city. It's probably no bigger than Oshkosh in actual ground space, but it has the population of Milwaukee living there. That number actually doesn't give you a good idea of just how packed it really is however, because while only 500,000+ live there, the city swells up to over 1 million people during the day working in DC. They may go a few miles out of town to Maryland or Virginia to go home, but during the day it's absolutely packed.

There is a lot of talk about how dangerous DC is and I think certain parts are absolutely as bad as anywhere else in the country. SE is the bad section, but as long as you stay on the west side of the Potomac River things should be fine. I don't ever need to go over to that section and my apartment is far away enough that it shouldn't matter. I just have to make sure I don't fall asleep on the Green Line home and end up lost in Shady Grove gangsta territory.

A Catholic church is 2 minutes ride on my moped away and has daily mass at noon which I will try to get to as much as possible. I'll also be able to attend mass on campus at the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception National Basillica. It's right on the CUA campus and is the largest church in the country and something like the 7th or 8th largest in the world. I haven't been inside yet, but it looks like it. It makes St. Patrick's in NYC look like a chapel. I'll be heading to St. Mary's for Latin Mass on Sundays. There are so many exciting and interesting things at my fingertips. I think I'll never run out of things to do.

We spent a few days getting everything moved in and ready in my apartment and then we did a few things around DC. We went to a Nationals game, which was really cool, and we got to see them win their 7th in a row. I'm confident they'll post a better record than the Brewers next year. Seeing as how it's a few blocks from my house, I think I'll make my fair share of games. The subways can be packed at times and I think my mom was weirded out by being wedged like sardines into the subway on an occasion or two, but that doesn't bother me. I'll bring hand sanitizer and stop using deodorant to gain some extra space.

I'm looking forward to spending the next two weeks with friends and family. I'll be heading back out probably on Monday, August 24th. That'll get me home in time to buy books and get ready for orientation.

And Thus It Begins...

It's been almost an entire month since I made my first post and I believe that it is just setting in that I will actually be leaving. I've begun preparing myself for all of the weirdness of living alone and trying to gain some courage and insight through this experience.

I am leaving with my parents and a U-Haul trailer for Washington DC early Thursday morning. We'll be moving all of my junk (and a few things that actually have eternal value) to my place and getting situated. I'm really happy to have the opportunity to get used to the place while my parents are in town. It seems that it will make the transition easier.

I also decided that I will be coming back home with my parents sometime around Monday or Tuesday. With class not starting until August 31st, I thought coming back would give me a good opportunity to spend some final days with friends and family without having to worry about the hassle of moving. I will be grabbing a train back to DC sometime around August 21-23rd and probably will not be home then until Christmas break.

So much has changed in the past month regarding my life in DC. As many of you know, my girlfriend and I split after nearly 2 years this past week for various reasons, not the least of which being my own eccentricities and quirks (more on that later).

This means that this move will be, in every possible way, a starting over and the begining of, in many ways, a completely new life. In some ways, it is a freeing feeling. I am now able to fully discern whatever God is calling me toward. Ever since I was little I have felt called to be a husband and father, but since my conversion (or reversion, if one could call it that) I've had various moments where I felt very called to the priesthood as well. Through various contacts, I have already gotten in touch with several priests in DC and will hopefully be meeting with one to start spiritual direction as soon as I move. I'll never hear where God is calling me (married life, the priesthood, single life etc.)if I don't listen and I hope that I will be able to be a better listener as I move forward in life.

Perhaps the two things that interest me most about being alive are suffering and death. (My next post should highlight this in a better and hopefully more humorous way). I realize that this sounds pretty morbid and perhaps it is, but it seems that there are hardly two more important topics that weigh down on the shoulders of all those who grapple with existence. There are many things that I fear in face of moving and living all by myself, but I also see them as a blessing. While I will certainly be opening myself up to all sorts of new and fun things, I will also be forced to grow up and grapple with certain things that are tough and painful. I think, if I am lucky, that these experiences can be a sort of Purgatory for me. Indeed, I fall short of being an Imitation of Christ, but hopefully with God's grace the difficulties before me shall be like God's hands molding and kneading me into the shape that I need to be. Catholicism is the religion of suffering, but unlike Buddhism it does not shy from it. Suffering has always existed and will follow us doggedly to our graves. The great hope of Catholicism lies not within running from suffering, but embracing it by uniting it with Christ's. In doing so, we give our suffering meaning. We let it be Christ's tool to wake us up, purge out all that doesn't belong, and save us from ourselves. As C. S. Lewis stated, "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

Of course, it is easy to say all of this in theory. It is indeed much harder to accept suffering when we meet it head on.

Lord, make haste and answer; for my spirit fails within me. Do not hide your face lest I become like those in the grave.


Dominus Vobiscum,
Taylor

Everything Begins With an Ending

This blog begins with the death of something quite large, though I am a bit unsure as to what that really is. Perhaps the blog is the last lament to true human interactions in a world that has gone digital. Perhaps the blog marks the beginning of the end of Western Civilization and human physicality; the laughter of friends, the lover's kiss, and a mother's soft and comforting cradle may, at worst, be endangered by this overwhelming and yet subtle behemoth that we call the internet and all her social implications. But, just perhaps, it gives us a tool, in an increasingly busy and distant world to share some piece of ourselves with those who mean much to us. Which is the truer sense of looking at the blog I cannot say (though I suspect a combination of both), but in an effort to keep in close contact with friends and family I intend to not so much document, but share about my life as it grows, changes, and adapts over the next few pivotal years. I will miss the passing conversations beginning with, "How are you?" and "What's new?" and hope that, in some small way, this blog can be a substitution for the very small, but oh so significant chatter that fills our lives.


Issues of psychology and societal philosophy aside, this blog, on a personal level, begins with a death as well. In one month I will be moving from Oshkosh, WI, having just graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh with a Bachelor's degree, to our Nation's Capital to continue my education in pursuit of a Master's degree in Catholic Theology. On the surface, it seems simply a step forward and a shortish move to a slightly warmer location, but this move could not carry any more significance in my life. It signals my movement from childhood to adulthood (though I am still grappling with the meaning of these terms). It signals the end of a very large and beautiful chapter in my life. I will be leaving behind the city of my birth and childhood, the city of first loves, best friends, family, normalcy, and the center of everything that I know to embark on an exciting, but terrifying journey to a very different city and a very different life. People are the centers of our life and I am leaving behind everyone that I've ever known and all of the people that have meant so much to me. I face change on the grandest scale and it certainly rings loudest with melancholy and a touch of the bittersweet.


Words are funny things. They are weightless and yet they can weigh us down, trip us up, and can be a source of great difficulty. I will never be able to tell all of the people around me how much I will miss them and what they have meant to me. Thankfully, words can also be the source of our greatest joys. It is often times easier to speak what we really feel with the time and reflection that must be put into writing. Hopefully, I will be able to say and speak things through this blog that I would have otherwise been too embarrassed, shy, inattentive, or forgetful to say.


In the face of so many unknowns and endings, I have a great excitement for my future. I will certainly keep in close contact with those I love and I will see them as often as life permits. My relationships will change, but they will remain. I do not face to lose very much, but I may gain much more. Education, independence, warmer weather, a bigger city, and sheer newness all sound pretty exciting right now.


I wanted to start this blog now, as opposed to that first week in DC, because I think that endings are a crucial part to new beginnings. How can we understand the future without the past? The next month will be bittersweet as I try and pack in as much time as possible with all the people I love before I move. I could never have enough time. But I know that it will be an interesting month and I'm happy that Nick brought up the idea of blogging now. I can't promise that every post will be serious, entertaining, informative, or even coherent, but that should be an accurate portrayal of life.




Thank Yous are in order-

For the past year I have lived at Fr. Carr's Place 2b helping, hopefully in some small way, to feed the hungry and give the homeless in our area a place to stay. I wish I could say that I worked as hard as I could have. I didn't. But I do feel that I learned quite a bit about myself and the world over the past year and I hope that in giving some of my time to help the place that I helped for things to run just a bit more smoothly. I had the privilege of meeting so many new people and have felt very loved and supported, even when I'm hard to live with. I really appreciate all that everyone has done for me here and I will always feel a part of this family.


I also need to thank my friends. We've spent a lot of time together and helped each other through the painful and sort of absurd process of 'growing up,' whether we knew it or not. I have been shaped and molded by this group in innumerable ways and I could not have made it a day past 5 without them. We've always been there with each other and I know that that will continue on with those closest to me until we sit on a porch somewhere, pipes extending from wrinkly faces, discussing the good old days of the summer after freshman year, nights in the Campus Center, ketchup popsicles and "...if anything it's gonna be a mountain", Call of Duty at Kev's, weenie whistles etc. etc. (you know who you are).


My girlfriend has stood by me through thick and thin (literally). I've really learned a lot from her and she means the world to me.


Mr. Renner is the subject of an entire book, but along with my parents, he has introduced me to Truth and been absolutely instrumental in my life. Words fail epically in trying to sum up his significance. Indeed, my whole move, education, and career choices stem directly from his influence. (A lot of professors would tell me to lose the comma after 'education' in that last sentence, but I stick by it because that's the way Mr. Renner said it ought to be done and anything else is simply an English heresy of modernism and laziness). In The Great Divorce, C.S. Lewis mused that those who have had the largest impact on our lives and our relationship with God, those who have taught us and helped us discover ourselves, the world, and our Source greet us in heaven and show us all that is to be seen. For Lewis, this was George MacDonald and if this is truly how heaven works and if I have succeeded in life only through God's infinite mercy I am positive that I'll be looking for Mr. Renner to introduce me to heaven just as he has always done.


I owe my biggest thanks to my parents. They have loved me unconditionally for 22 years and I know that that alone has pushed them to the brink of sainthood. (My brother seems more than capable of providing that final nudge). I owe everything to them for making my life and dreams attainable via financial support, but more importantly through teaching me by word and example how to be a decent human being. They taught me to keep things in perspective, to always do the right thing, to work hard, and keep things tidy. I'm still working on all 4. I hope that in some way, I can resemble them as I grow older and that all of my childishness and crabbiness will not outweigh their pride in who I will turn out to be. They have been the clearest picture of Christ to me as they continue to sacrifice their entire being for my brother and I.


There are so many countless people who I could and should thank. There are so many countless family members, friends, and acquaintances that I wish I could have more time with to grow closer, but I suppose that is always the case with life. All of these people have been a part of who I am.


I apologize for the length of this post and also for its overdramatic flare. As W.B. Yeats said, "Being Irish, I have an abiding sense of tragedy which sustains me through temporary periods of joy." He was a funny guy.


I'm reminded of another quote. I'm not sure if he made it up, but my father certainly said it a lot growing up. It goes something like, "You can wish in one hand and shit in the other, but guess which one will fill up first." Here's hoping that you all can have a laugh or two at me as I try to figure out what being an adult means. Here's also hoping that God blesses you all and that relationships stay strong even as life, work, school, marriages, travel, etc. puts physical distance between us. Start a blog yourself and we'll keep in touch.





Dominus Vobiscum,
Taylor