…they don’t seem to have any rules in particular: at least, if there are, nobody attends to them…
From the mild-mannered Reader-in-Chief
Pistrina Liturgica has now reached the two-thirds marker in its narrative of the Reader’s misadventures in the slang-encrusted, one-dimensional Blunderland known as Work of Human Hands. In this blog’s remaining chapters, the Reader will have neither the time nor the patience to bring to light all the flaws that Anthony Cekada’s miseducation has occasioned. Father's unlettered transliteration of προεστώς as proestoos (p. 121, note 74), his ignorance of liturgical terms of art (e.g., p. 209, the Indulgentiam is better called the absolution formula), and the reductive simplemindedness of his conclusions (v.g., “No more Amish crockery— the restoration has begun!”on p. 188) must be left without further remark.
As a body of writing, Work of Human Hands is covered over with a mass of malignant lesions, some basal, many necrotic—all fatal. Tomorrow’s post will be of signal interest to everyone, for it commences a three-part series to expose decisively this academic imposture. Reader #4 —exhibiting, we caution, a soupçon of ill-tempered “tone” — returns from academe with a detailed post affirming beyond a doubt that Work of Human Hands is fit but for the dust bin, not the library shelf. Anthony Cekada follows no rules at all: he roquets and peels by fits and starts. Bottom line: Tell everyone you know to read tomorrow’s post; they will be grateful, for it will spare them from making an unsavory purchase.
Nativity of St. John the Baptist
No comments:
Post a Comment