SONGS in my head today: Adeste fideles, We three kings, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, It came upon a Midnight clear, and many such christmassy cheerfulnesses. All thanks to the carol service yesterday which, being an usher at, meant standing all hour-and-a-half long. Which wasn't as bad as it could have been, as I'm a sucker for lustily-sung christmas carols and after a couple of them, the world seemed a beautiful, joyous place.
SAINTS of the day are the martyrs Rufus and Zosimus (107), who lost their lives during Trajan's persecutions.
Of all the reporting I've read, Jonathan Freedland's article best captures the weird, crazy disappointment/relief/contempt/satisfaction at Saddam turning out to be human and worse, pathetic at it.
"IT IS AS IT WAS" JP II likes The Passion. Here and here and here.
EXCELLENT! A little survey of travelling to Ethiopia, from another Genyaan blog. Inspiring stuff. Allow me to recommend his blog as well.
THE NILE KERFUFFLE there's a decent summary of the stuff and good links from mostly africa and it is here
JAMHURI DAY, you ask? There's very little to celebrate, apart from the fact that we're freer than at any time in our recent history, peaceful, and are undergoing (quietly!) quite the cultural revival. Beer's on me, form an orderly queue to the left...
KANU is up to its old tricks again. That great flushing sound you hear is what's left of my respect for Simeon Nyachae going down the toilet. A world-class administrator, who just doesn't understand that democracy involves actually listening to other people, is about the kindest possible thing that can now be said about him.
QUINE, v. (1) To deny resolutely the existence of importance of something real or significant. "Some philosophers have quined classes, and some have even quined physical objects." Occasionally used intr., e.g., "You think I quine, sir. I assure you I do not!" (2) n. The total aggregate sensory surface of the world; hence quinitis, irritation of the quine.
-the Philosophical Lexicon-