Five years ago today, inspired by the
The Haloscan commenting boxes were added later and applied themselves retroactively. There would be many other changes to The Secret Base, reflecting the changes in my life, but one thing has remained a constant: the anger. Yes, it's vitally important what brought us all together in the first place, a deep and abiding hatred for almost everyone and almost everything. Five years on and The Secret Base of the Rebel Black Dot Society's mission is the same today as on the day the credo was composed, "To kill some time and take my mind off other people, a topic that is altogether depressing."
"The Anniversary Party" will continue through Sunday, March 4 and I shall be republishing The Secret Base's first ten posts and commenting upon what this blog means to me, what I hope this blog means to you, the rise and fall of the blogging phenomenon, and the critical importance of pie to any family gathering. As ever, you have my most sincere thanks for your kind attention and my most sincere hope that I have not wasted too much of your time.
Ash Wednesday
Today is Ash Wednesday. I love Ash Wednesday. Ash Wednesday is my favorite day of the whole year to be Catholic. I am grateful every day for the existence of Christianity, but I wait all year for Ash Wednesday. The deadly sin of pride be damned, I love walking around all day with the ashes on my forehead. Back in Ann Arbor, I'd skip Flounder polo on Ash Wednesday because I didn't want the ashes to wash off. Today, I skipped the daily running and lifting sessions for the same reason. I was thrilled to see that Tony Reali, the host of Around the Horn, had ashes on his forehead during today's show. My glee was irrational, my exuberance excessive, but there it was. I love Ash Wednesday!
A caution, there is vulgarity ahead.
Of course, Ash Wednesday is not just a day to parade around like a peacock with incinerated palm leaves on your noggin, Ash Wednesday is the first day of the holy season of Lent, the time of fasting, prayer, and preparation for Easter, the most sacred day of the Christian year. And one of the most prominent, though Scripturally unsupported, parts of Lent is the personal sacrifice. I have given up chocolate more often than any other sacrifice. I've contemplated giving up pop for Lent, but dismissed the idea as the fevered dream of a madman; I could no more give up pop than give up oxygen and the other precious gases. Yet this year I have decided to brave the impossible. In the second bit of inspiration owed to The Watergirl in the span of a single post, I have decided to give up masturbation for Lent.
In this, I will fail. I have no doubt that I will fail. I am devoted to Almighty God, but I am also weak. I have not the willpower to resist my basest instincts for the entire Lenten season, but by the stars I will try. I will put every meager ounce of self-control I possess to this endeavour. Whether I masturbate tomorrow or successfully refrain will not determine if my immortal soul burns in the purifying flames of Purgatory or the punishing flames of Perdition, but it will stand as a symbol of the depth of my dedication to Christ. And symbols are important. I will surely fail, but what is more important is that I shall dare.
Addendum: I am fond, perhaps overly fond, of nicknames, codenames, and codewords. When I grew a beard, I christened the project the "Banzai Beard Bonanza." Sould I ever grow a mustache it will be the "Massive Mustache Mistake." The first time the Mountain cut his hair into a mohawk was called "Project Cobra." I thought about calling this endeavour "Operation Mongoose," but dismissed the name as it would invite all manner of puns about snakes and snake-like anatomical curiosities. Thus, welcome, long-suffering readers, to "Mission: Unpossible." (Thanks, Ralph Wiggum!)
Addendum to the addendum: Believe it or not, one of today's episodes of Seinfeld on TBS was "The Contest." I don't believe in signs and potents, but that's just spooky. Or in the sage words of plain, simple Garak, "Oh, I believe in coincidence. Coincidences happen every day. But I don't trust coincidence."
And so it is with a nod to the Herculean labor before me that I present to you the...
BTW South Song of the Day
Lit, "My Own Worst Enemy" from A Place in the Sun (T.L.A.M.)
Two consecutive posts, both at 11:07pm, exactly twenty-four hours apart? On my honor, I did not monkey with the time stamps. Great Caesar's ghost, this day's getting spookier by the minute.
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