The Power and the Glory

I don't exactly know why these words resound in my head when I thik of Notre Dame. Maybe because I meant to bring that particular work of Graham Greene's on the trip. (Forgot it, unfortunately). But I can think of no more fitting title for a post about a university so unparalleled in its Catholic tradition and grandeur.

The feeling this place evokes awakens as soon as you step on campus. It doesn't originate in the traditional tips of the fingers or toes. It starts in the heart, a deep and warm glow that envelopes the entire experience. Not often can you walk across a place and know that every one you pass by feels as you do, and the students are possesed of a passionate loyalty unlike most collegiate emotions. I believe that its mystique arises not so much from the stunning architecture and grounds as from the fact that, whatever negative publicity it has received, it is and will always be specially loved and blessed by God and His mother.

There are a lot of memories for just three days. The surreal: staring at the Golden Dome, or the steeple, or the Grotto at night, or out the old wooden windows of the classrooms, and thinking every time, "Hey! I'm at Notre Dame!" The thrills: going to a class taught by Alistair Macintyre, going to the Navy v. Notre Dame game (which really is a post unto itself). Fun times (watching Hairspray, watching New England beat Indianapolis) and hilarious times (discovering that the Alma Mater played by bells is horribly creepy at night...discovering that there is not only Touchdown Jesus, but also First Down Moses, Fair Catch Corby, and Draw Play Jesus...some athletes actually can consume an entire bunch bananas in one sitting...).

Put simply, it's huge. Huge campus, number of applicants, number of opportunities, number of choices in the dining hall; huge experience. There is emotional pull toward here that the other colleges in the running lack. I had been trying not to think about it too much because it is unlikely that I would be picked out of 17,000 applications to be accepted. But the game last Saturday against Duke changed something. With it being the last Senior game at home the win was glorious of course. And I was practically screaming when Zbikowski went in at quarterback. It really hit, though, when they played the Alma Mater. Before it's always just been a pretty tune I didn't know the words to. This time there were tears in my eyes and chills down my spine, and I thought "I want this to be home. I don't want to love Notre Dame by extension anymore". Provided I am even accepted, I want to go with all my heart. Which means I have to pray even harder to follow God's will and not my own.

College Quest Part I

Hillsdale was smaller than I imagined, but other than that lived up to all my expectations. I could definitely see myself there, but am unsure that I am supposed to be there. Unlike our other options it actually has merit scholarships which is exciting if I can impress them. It was a beautiful campus, I have to say. With the fall colors everywere, the arboretum was particularly spectacular.

Sports is a bigger deal there than I would have thought, which is attractive to me. There are a couple of rather hideous freshman dorms, but maybe that's for bonding purposes. There are also Greek houses, which is a black mark in some people's books. The cafeteria wasn't terrible, but wasn't really inspiring.

Catholic church is in walking distance, downtown. Dowtown Hillsdale is really picturesque, it would be fun to walk around there.

I don't have any stories except that at a swing dance one guy asked me to dance and danced through three songs straight. Didn't stop when the music did, just kept going. It was quite something. I left.

this and that

Huddle as they might, they still couldn't stop the Pats from scoring FORTY NINE points against them. Yeah.

Last night NBC aired a tiresome little piece on nightly news on Cubans immigrating (in a manner of speaking) to the US. Oddly enough, most of their officious disapproval was directed toward the smugglers who make a fortune out of sneaking Cubans out of Havana into Miami. My only complaint against the smugglers was the rates they charged. But no, the silly little investigative reporter sympathetically made the rounds with the Cuban police, commiserating with him on how difficult it was to stem the flood of people racing to Miami. A moderately intelligent person might ask...now why would these people risk anything, money, life, or limb to cross that body of water? What exactly would drive a family to build a boat out of styrofoam in the faint hope of making it to America?

Maybe it's because they like the beaches better in Florida. But judging from the idyllic scenery presented of Cuba, I would guess instead that they're trying to escape the satanic hellhole that Fidel Castro (may God have mercy on his soul) has turned it into. Maybe they don't like being spied on by their neighbors or being told to do it in their turn. Maybe they don't like warrantless search and seizures, arrests, torture of the most savage and inhuman variety, and mass murder.

Just a thought.

Some spokeswoman from the Cuban government got to speak her piece on how damaging and dangerous it is for the US to grant asylum to Cubans who touch US soil. And then we got treated to a sorrowful mother mourning three children who tried to make it to the US and died en route, all because of the enticing immigration policy. (For shame, America!) Well, I hope I wasn't the only American cheering on the Cuban speedboats running away from the Coast guard toward the Miami beach. Even if it was stock footage, I couldn't help screaming, "GO!! GO!!!!!!!!!" and couldn't help feeling that the CG speedboat wasn't going as fast as it possibly could. (I wonder why that could be...)

At any rate, I doubt these desperate victims are fleeing to Miami in search of a football team. ;)

copying Esther's idea

#1. The Patriots blow my mind. They really do. I mean...it's to the point where it's a joy to watch them because they are SO IMPOSSIBLY GOOD. It's magic. What's his face from SNF said they are the best team he has EVER seen, and grew up on the '72 Dolphins. #2. The Crofter and the Laird, which I got for my birthday, forgot about, was reminded of, and read is absolutely beautiful. I don't know what I was expecting; some kind of patriotic, anti-England story, I suppose. I didn't realize a simple study of a simple agricultural life could be that engrossing. And was it ever! I hardly put it down after I started, and finished in under 24 hours. As soon as Mom's read it, I'm reading it again. #3. Dancing With the Stars is slightly scandalous most of the time, but I'm addicted to it. And I love the tango. I think it might be the most beautiful dance ever thought of, the waltz notwithstanding. At least when it's done correctly, proper music and attire included. #4. The SAT II American History book I'm studying is vexing me. If you say the 90's aren't important yet because they're too recent, don't spend a page and a half on Clinton. Please. Especially when you only give a little paragraph Ronald Reagan in which you falsely claim Reaganomics caused only a slight economic boom which ended in 1987. #5. It is St. Ignatius of Antioch's feast day and I still think Ignatius Athanasius would be a great boy's name.

Things and stuff

Yesterday, Katie Smillie walked up to me and asked if I had a blog called the morning oil. I said yes, but I do not post on it, Stephen's sister Catharine does. This made me feel guilty. So here is a post. Katie Smillie is probably reading it right now. (Hello Katie! :P)

In recent news, trees are spontaneously collapsing, civil unrest is rising to amusing levels, and I have my dorm addicted to Astro City comic books. All is well. Tomorrow I am 21. I think I will take the day off.

jest a leetle update

Well, the reading population has decided not to comment anymore. Fortunately I am still able to rack my brains for slight inspiration. The Patriots are doing so well I just don't know what to do with myself except do an eaglesbobbleheaddolldance. I did decide that the Patriots needed their own celebraty cheer, so I made one up and will perform it on demand. I have made but negligible progress in the Federalist Papers. I have a sneaking suspicion that Alexander Hamilton actually wrote all of them. I read Wuthering Heights again and liked it marginally better than when I was twelve. But the fact remains that Emily Bronte managed to create about as unlikely a set of characters as was humanly possible. The odds of people really being that irrational, evil, whiny, petulant, nosy, passionate, and mercurial are astronomically remote. However, it is a good book to read if you are angry or upset.

reason number 14 not to steal large amounts of cash

You might be attacked and slain in a shower.

I saw Psycho for the first time this weekend and it made quite an impression. I make it a habit not to watch scary movies because it takes very little to disturb or frighten me...and I did scream out loud not once but twice. Once when the detective goes up the stairs and...well, anyway, and then again when the boyfriend character walks past an open door and Norman is just standing there...I couldn't take it.

But it was so well made and so well scored and such a perfect example of how to scare people. Don't try to gross them out. If you really want to terrify people, don't show them much of anything and let their imaginations take over. Works much better that way.

Fortunately for me, I was preoccupied enough with how cute Anthony Perkins is (was, whatever) that I wasn't as scared as I could have been.

Anyhoo, good movie, fun to watch with people who haven't seen it. I think I should watch more Hitchcock.