acting and theory

To “act” is to go through the motions of behaviour without really feeling it, lacking the appropriate experiences…. Amateur actors, like political revolutionaries, are those who find the conventions hard to grasp and perform them badly, having never recovered from their childhood puzzlement.

Such puzzlement is perhaps what we call “theory.” The child is an incorrigible theoretician, forever urging the most impossibly fundamental questions. The form of a philosophical question, Wittgenstein remarks, is “I don’t know my way around”; and since this is literally true of the child, it is driven to pose questions which are not answerable simply in rhetorical terms (“The meaning of this action is this”) but which press perversely on to interrogate the whole form of social life which might generate such particular meanings in the first place. Theory is in this sense the logical refuge of those puzzled or naïve enough not to find simply rhetorical answers adequate, or who want to widen the boundaries of what mature minds take to be adequate rhetorical explanations.

…Theory begins to take hold once one realizes that the adults don’t know their way around either, even if they act as though they do. They act as well as they do precisely because they can no longer see, and so question, the conventions by which they behave. The task of theory is to breed bad actors.

— Terry Eagleton, “Brecht and Rhetoric” (1982)
It follows also that this new vision of ‘natural theology’ is equally concerned, let me also state at the start here, to be flexible in a variety of ways for use in different contexts and genres, for different audiences, and by means of varying forms of communication. The term ‘apologetics’, unfortunately, tends to come with as much bag and baggage from the era of brash modernity as does its cousin 'natural theology’; but its history of association with rationalistic brow-beating is one we need to live down. The art of giving a reasoned, philosophically- and scientifically-related, account of the 'hope that is in us’ in a public space is a Christian duty, and it may take a great variety of forms. As discussed last time in relation to Nicholas Wolterstorff’s analysis of Thomas Aquinas’s own variety of uses for his own Five Ways, 'natural theology’ must indeed at times be used apologetically and even polemically, when the occasion demands it: that is, if one is called to public debate in the university, in public political contestation, or in the press. There is a huge cultural interest in seeing theologians and philosophers of religion perform this undertaking in discussion with secular science, and we undermine our own credibility if we fail to take on this task with grace, clarity and humour.

But more often, I find, I am called to this task as a believer, as an academic, or as a priest, in quieter, less overt, but no less significant public contexts: in being asked intrigued questions about evolution and theology by the seeker who wanders into Ely cathedral looking for something, she knows not what; by the half-believer who wonders if science does indeed render Christianity invalid; by the generation of my children’s age for whom in so many cases the church has seemingly lost all intellectual and moral credibility; for those hoping to deepen their faith spiritually or make it more intellectually mature; and for the doubting amongst the faithful. The disposition, attentive prayerfulness and bodily grace with which these conversations must go on is especially crucial: this task is not about the soap-box, but it‟s not for the faint-hearted or defensive either. It has to be as philosophically and scientifically sophisticated as it is spiritually and theologically cogent; in short, it must not merely dazzle; it must more truly invite and allure.

— Sarah Coakley, from her 2012 Gifford Lectures (PDF)

[gallery] 50watts:

Birds by Chinese artist Huang Yao c. 1975

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typeworship:

London Transport Type

Last week I had the chance to visit the London Transport Museum in the old Flower Market building in Covent Garden Piazza.

I’d been meaning to go for a while, particularly after the 100th anniversary of Johnston’s pervading typeface last year, and to see the history of the iconic roundel logotype which first appeared in 1908.

With a rich visual heritage spanning 200 years there’s plenty of graphic design and typography to see. There’s a decent sized display dedicated to graphic design and signage of the transport system with lots of printed ephemera. However type and lettering examples cover everything: vintage buses, underground carriages, posters, wayfinding.

Above, you can see some print examples together with hand–painted signage, ceramics, metalwork, and even some beautiful Pouchée type in use.

[gallery] 60ansdevadrouille:

Roms. Plongée sur le Geirangerfjord, ses cascades, et, depuis leNid d’Aigle, sur le Djupvatnet dans l’intérieur. 

The New Testament never—not one time—applies the “Christian” label to a business or even a government. The tag is applied only to individuals. If the Bible is your ultimate guide, the only organization one might rightly term “Christian” is a church.
Why conservative evangelicals shouldn’t call a business ‘Christian’ | On Faith & Culture. Well, since the New Testament never — not one time — calls churches Christian, by Merritt’s logic we ca’t use that term for churches either. (The word “Christian” only appears three times in the Bible.) And how could there be Christian business or governments in the New Testament when we’re seeing just the very beginnings of Christianity and there were neither businesses nor governments in the modern sense of those terms? What a silly article.

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Raphael, Head of a Young Apostle

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Raphael, Head of a Muse

[gallery] thingsmagazine:

Britain’s R 101 airship under construction at the Royal Airship Works, Cardington, c.1928, The National Archives

[gallery] biblipeacay:

*Chemistry of Combustion and Illumination* from ‘Chemical Atlas or The Chemistry of Familiar Objects’ by Edward Livingston Youmans (1855) [source / via]