On Chesterton, on Kipling, on Comet and Cupid
I was glad today to find my keyboard grew a centimeters. Now I can see when I type. Im old overnight. But reading this morning, I reminisced that once I was young, empty, full, and cryptic. My favorite thing about the laptop I use is that it has open tabs of things I continually hold onto. It is like laying out a gown over a chair that you mighy remember the night of dancing again and again. There are a few tabs open there. One of them is a pea soup recipe. Another tab is my Chesterton article I already wrote about. It was insightful and reminded me of myself. Only better. So you can imagine my surprise revisitng the Catholic site's articles for more Chesterton and finding him against the great Kipling in the author's musings. He held Kipling in the highest esteem, (who wouldn't?) But Chesterton, who he argued was always with question, he had critical thoughts of, and shared them with careful applause. He said this, and I realized in his doing so that the question he had ...
