My Sabbath days are rarely boring. My wife Shira and I often have guests for Shabbat meals on Friday nights and Saturday lunches. And just about every Friday night, Shira and I play Scrabble, a board game that is perfect for Sabbath observers: no electricity and no writing (another Sabbath prohibition). How do we keep score? We each have a big fat book where we match our score with the page number. If you get forty points, you turn forty pages. (Shira usually wins.)
Ari L. Goldman, writing about his Sabbath practices as an Orthodox Jew
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I’ll write a hymn again.
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One of the reasons I chose Qobuz as my streaming music service was the ability to download tracks in a DRM-free format. About a year into my subscription, I finally purchased my first album. Frankie Rose – Seventeen Seconds. Burned a CD and it sounds fantastic.
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I’ve been trying for years to get my oldest son to embrace blogging. He’s an excellent writer and has unique perspectives. I bought him a Blot blog but he never used it. Now I find out he’s publishing on Substack. I feel betrayed.
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If I could internalize the words of Thoreau that, “A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone,” then I probably wouldn’t have spent several days this week investigating cassette culture.
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So sentiments expressing objective claims of morality or beauty are still, as in Lewis’s day, found to be offensive, but sentiments expressing identity are seen as sacred.
Alan Noble, on C.S. Lewis and education -
Several years ago, I listened to Terry Gross interview the son of a prominent religious leader, who had publicly broken with his father’s legacy and migrated to another, rather different branch of the tradition. Gross asked why he had not simply let his faith go altogether. His reply has always stuck with me. He explained that it was, in part, because he was the kind of person whose first instinct, upon deciding to become an atheist, would be to ask God to help him be an atheist.
Source: L.M. Sacasas