If We Were Not Called Upon To

Deconstruction Insists Not That Truth Is Illusory But That It Is Institutional.

Evil Is Unintelligible. It Is Just A Thing In Itself, Like Boarding A Crowded Commuter Train Wearing Only A Giant Boa Constrictor. There Is No Context Which Would Make It Explicable.

What Was Needed Was A Literary Theory Which, While Preserving The Formalist Bent Of New Criticism, Its Dogged Attention To Literature As Aesthetic Object Rather Than Social Practice, Would Make Something A Good Deal More Systematic And 'scientific' Out Of All This. The Answer Arrived In 1957, In The Shape Of The Canadian Northrop Fryes Mighty 'totalization' Of All Literary Genres, Anatomy Of Criticism .

What's Wrong With A Bit Of Nostalgia Between Friends? I Think Nostalgia Sometimes Gets Too Much Of A Bad Press.

Christian Faith, As I Understand It, Is Not Primarily A Matter Of Signing On For The Proposition That There Exists A Supreme Being, But The Kind Of Commitment Made Manifest By A Human Being At The End Of His Tether, Foundering In Darkness, Pain, And Bewilderment, Who Nevertheless Remains Faithful To The Promise Of A Transformative Love.