Shmuel's Soapbox: Now available in bite-sized Weblog McNuggets!
Saturday, January 17, 2004
Today is the fifth anniversary of the start of this journal. In celebration, I have written a longwinded entry of reminiscence, to help my readers get drowsy enough to take the Traditional Journalversary Nap. Enjoy!
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Seven Deadly Entries: Envy
Envy is not something I usually have a problem with. About the closest I generally get is occasionally getting depressed about the fact that I'm not accomplishing nearly as much as other people are... but the lesson to be learned in such cases is not that the other people don't deserve their success, but that I'm a slacker. Which strikes me as something else entirely.
...after writing the above, I realized that I'm not being entirely candid here, and that I've had at least one run at the jealousy thing, but I think I'm going to punt this one. Sorry about that.
Monday, January 12, 2004
I'm back in Boston. Dallas was really nice. There's a much longer entry about that in the works, which'll probably be in the old journal format, but that'll keep a bit longer...
Seven Deadly Entries: Gluttony
Overeating has never been something I've been accused of. If anything, I've generally been told that I could stand to gain a few pounds. So one might think that gluttony is the one deadly sin I have no cause to worry about.
That, however, takes a rather narrow view of what "gluttony" encompasses. In Letter XVII of the The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis's demonic Screwtape points out that Gluttony of Excess is only one kind of gluttony, and that the more prevalent sort these days is Gluttony of Delicacy. "But what do quantities matter, provided we can use a human belly and palate to produce querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern?"
(This brief summation is hardly adequate. I'm tempted to quote the first two thirds of the letter in question wholesale, but I shall restrain myself. But if you haven't yet read this book, what are you waiting for? Go! Read! Trust me on this one. Besides, it's a short book.)
I'm so-so in that regard. On the one hand, I've never been terribly obsessed with food, nor do I generally take very much sensual pleasure from consuming it. On the other hand, I'm a notoriously picky eater; the list of foods I won't touch is far longer than the list of foods I like. And y'all know that I've devoted a lot of space in this journal to writing about the joys of Ghirardelli orange-creme-filled chocolate squares, Wendy's spicy chicken sandwiches, and pizza in general. So I'm hardly immune.
Still, on the list of my character flaws, I think this would be buried somewhere towards the bottom. Food just isn't that important to me, aside from the fuel thing.
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