Mar. 16th, 2003

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Well, I just got back from attending the church to which I've been going the last few weeks. This church, Glendale Christian, has three services: a traditional at 8:30, contemporary at 9:45, and blended at 11:00. I had been going to the blended, but since I was on an earlier schedule thanks to work anyway, I figured I'd go to the 9:45 and get it over with earlier.

I don't think I'll attend the contemporary service again. Standing up for 40 minutes straight and singing praise choruses over and over just doesn't do it for me. I prefer the some standing, some sitting, old hymn style of the blended. I haven't yet tried the traditional; maybe next week I'll get myself up early enough to go there, just for completeness's sake.

The contemporary service does seem to be the most well-attended, though; blended tends to have just a couple of dozen people there on any given day. And most of the people who were attending did seem to enjoy it. Some of them were so overcome with feeling that they even lifted their hands into the air while they were singing, looking alternately like they were up against an invisible wall being frisked by a nonexistent police officer, or like they were dancing with an unseen watermelon. It kind of reminded me of one of those Native American war dances you read about, where the braves would work themselves up into a frenzy by spending time singing and dancing without rest.

The minister, a grandfatherly fellow named B.A. Austin, does give a good sermon, though. Most impressively, he gives it without any notes. All things considered, I think it's a good church; I'll just attend one of its services that suits me better next time.
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The Cats of Ulthar

by H. P. Lovecraft

Written 15 Jun 1920

Published November 1920 in The Tryout, Vol. 6, No. 11, p. 3-9.

It is said that in Ulthar, which lies beyond the river Skai, no man may kill a cat; and this I can verily believe as I gaze upon him who sitteth purring before the fire. For the cat is cryptic, and close to strange things which men cannot see. He is the soul of antique Aegyptus, and bearer of tales from forgotten cities in Meroe and Ophir. He is the kin of the jungle's lords, and heir to the secrets of hoary and sinister Africa. The Sphinx is his cousin, and he speaks her language; but he is more ancient than the Sphinx, and remembers that which she hath forgotten.

Click here to continue )

Courtesy of the Gizmology.net H.P. Lovecraft library.

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