This octave of neglect now ends. This being Saturday evening, I gladly await the start of classes on Monday the 30th. Whereas peers of mine frequently wonder at the speed with which our lives have progressed, for me God has moved time at just the right pace. Glories there are to a senior year. As Atobe pointed out when he returned today, I shall be an upperclassmen, or senpai, in the Japanese, in the truest sense of the term, receiving the admiration we once gave our illustrious forebears, and living the power and authority I merit as a four year member of the Student Senate. As in the corresponding senior year of high school, I am ready for these blessings, which have arrived neither a moment too soon nor too late. In the spirit of "One More Time", a fine and relatively innocent dance tune by some Daft Punk, the beat of life, this

Music's got me feeling so free
We're gonna celebrate
One more time

Yes, even we Naulties and non-substancers.

Granted, our seniority has not availed universally. Despite a streak of drizzly and unfathomably chilly days, my eminent SGA colleagues and I (our core of pro-Catholic mission senators has been jokingly termed the SGA Brain Trust by a friend) were unable to prevent our participation in the universally-detested and indoctrination-rife Student Leadership Camp. Included this year were multicultural awareness activities reminiscent of my elementary school brainwashing. By their structure the activities assumed, a priori, that all common notions about different races, believers of different religions (ex. Muslims, Jews, and Catholics), and even such groups as teenagers and the elderly are "stereotypes": that is, not grounded in reality. I don't know about you, but it'll be a long day when I believe teens are not, in fact, bad drivers. Besides the relativism inherent in multiculturalism, this ideological cancer prevents the "critical thinking" educators are supposedly so eager to encourage. To make things worse, the rain ensured that even the traditional delights of midnight pranking were off.

At least there is good news: the Brain Trust has a potential new prospect, in a gentleman who goes by J. Paul. As I told him, had I that moniker, I would always be adopting the persona of the late Supreme Pontiff of the same name in my varied discourses. Speaking of whom, I just finished his Memory and Identity, his conversational look, a few years into the third Christian millennium, at global politics, the future of nation and state, and the evil ideologies of the last century. Given the liberal reputation traditionalists rightly give Pope John Paul II for his treatment of the Archbishop Lefebvre and the SSPX, it was surprisingly good. While John Paul praises the Enlightenment belief in the rights of man and "liberty, equality, and fraternity" (the last of which is quite popular at the Worcester Polytechnic Institute across town, now that I think of it), an overly positive view of Vatican II, and claims the post-Reformation wars of religion were not in the spirit of the Gospels (I, of course, would have been the first to serve under the Iron Duke on his heretic-crushing campaign; and it were better for the tolerati, that millstone were hanged about their necks, and they cast into the sea, than that they should let the schismatics scandalize one of these faithful), he defends the nation (as distinct from the State) as natural and irreplaceable, forever setting aside the claims of post-nationalist Catholic liberals. Besides the few defects I mentioned just now, Memory and Identity would make a wonderful companion book to the Catholic political thinker Pierre Manent's A World Beyond Politics? A Defense of the Nation-State, which also discusses the essentiality of the nation in the context of the horrors of nazism and communism, and of the drawbacks of modern liberalism--of course, for someone as widely read as me, everything seems like a good companion book to any work written on such great and general themes! Additionally, John Paul uses the example of his native Poland in explaining the nation to his readers, and I for one was intrigued by his accounts of that Catholic nation about which I know so very little. Overall, a very profitable read, which may be read in two or three determined days if you are reading on a schedule.

Now, for my first anime break in eight long days!

In mere minutes your Crusader shall depart for his senior year at Assumption, early for student government training. A week and more without anime is a sad prospect, especially since I Cardcaptor Sakura was just getting good. The anime, which I selected as a counterbalance to the manlier Cowboy Bebop, is lethally cute. Just take a look at Sakura Kinomoto with her plush companion Cerberus! Bright-eyed Sakura-chan is shown in her grade school uniform below. Like her, I am quite happy. It will be nice to see all my friends, and return to a place where the Catholic faith is treated with greater respect than in Northampton. Also, no more TV to annoy me.

(The superficiality of the Ground Zero mosque debate was genuinely getting on my nerves. The Left defended the dubious project from a newfound commitment to religious freedom, and the Right pretended that one can rationally oppose the mosque without opposing the spread of Islam. Besides the usual wimpery, they pretended to merely act in the interests of the more sensitive 9/11 families; no one, of course, ever noted that these victims were either being irrational and therefore had no worthwhile input, OR that opposition to Islam was their motive, and therefor the motive of those speaking on their behalf. Me, I oppose the mosque, though I acknowledge that the presence of devout believers of any faith may be a boon to that godless city.)

Yes, enough of that! Before I go, here's "Catch You Catch Me", the opening theme to Cardcaptor Sakura. Watch it, it's good!

Good news from our friends at the deliciously notorious MassResistance. Pro-life, pro-family Massachusetts Republicans finally have candidates for Governor and Lieutenant Governor.

When I read here that Scott Lively, write-in candidate for Governor, is "founder of Abiding Truth Ministries, the Pro-Family Law Center, DefendTheFamily.com, and most recently the Redemption Gate Ministry Society in Springfield, Mass.," that "[o]ver the past 20 years he has also lectured and consulted on pro-family strategies in more than 30 countries," and that he "is everything that Charlie Baker is not. He is principled, pro-family, pro-life, pro-traditional marriage, pro-2nd-amendment, pro-religion, pro-parents' rights, and utterly fearless," I knew MassResistance had struck gold. Or to put it another way: "Like Glenn Beck, Rep. Michele Bachmann, Ron Paul, the Tea Party Movement, MassResistance, and many more, Scott Lively has been demonized by the far-left Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) as a 'hate group' ": what else do you need to know? Write in Scott Lively as Republican nominee for Governor on September 14. MassResistance says they'll have more information coming in the future.

MassResistance also had a few good things to say about Keith Davis, write-in candidate for Lieutenant Governor, right; this image, of January 2008 vintage, is really neat, since he and Rep. George Peterson flank the still-unknown Scott Brown, perhaps foreshadowing a bright future for Mr. Davis. He "lives in Holyoke and is a long-time pro-family leader and organizer in Western Massachusetts. He is head of the FIAT (Faith in Action Team) of Pioneer Valley, and is also an active Tea Party / 912 Group member," and "is everything that Tisei is not. He pro-family, pro-life, pro-traditional marriage, pro-2nd-amendment, pro-religion, pro-parents' rights, and anti-activist judges." He has his own corner of the Internet here. So likewise, write in Keith Davis as Republican nominee for Lieutenant Governor on September 14.

For readers unaware of the horrendous records and unconscionable platforms of the Republican establishment's clown Charlie Baker and his homosexual activist sidekick Richard Tisei, read up here. Lest we should have to settle with independent candidate Tim Cahill, the best of the big three, in November, let's change the game on the heathen Party establishment and nominate two stalwarts for the big race!

These final days of summer, so bittersweet. Not three weeks remain before I, Atobe, need return to America to begin my third year at Assumption College in Worcester, in the state of Massachusetts. Though I anticipate those frigid regions will do little good to my temperate physiology, my veritable American cousin Crusader reports the New England summer to have been humid almost unexceptionally and sweltering as often as not. For me this would be optimal tennis weather—wears down an opponent faster—the hot air has merely incentivized his typical reading and anime watching passtimes. While he reported little on the literary front, he did report one surprising accomplishment: finishing all 200 episodes of Sailor Moon, plus three movies and several specials.

That brings back memories! For I, Atobe, was but a middling chibi when that fine series swept the airwaves and, mostly for my female peers, redefined the magical girl genre of anime. Truth be told I, Atobe, watched much of the series myself but when it got into the fifth season no, that was enough. And yet, my American kōhai very greatly adored that ignominious season. Partly for a certain character I will note later, but more importantly for the sake of a featured band. Three of the sailor soldiers introduced in the new series live their ordinary lives as the members of a boy band called Three Lights. I, Atobe, may thankfully say I have never been into boys bands, but upon Leslie's insistence I admit their hit single, "Search For Your Love", was pretty good. Alright, make that addicting. In the series, all the main sailor soldiers are Beatles in love with the Three Lights, even studious and usually tempered Ami Mizuno, Leslie's favorite and mine as well. This, even though the boys, when they transform into sailor soldiers, become female—a very Northamptonish transformation, as I reminded my friend.

Otherwise, the fifth witnessed the completion of the long series's colorful cast. Aside from the aforementioned aqua pedant, here shown to advantage against a marblized backdrop, there are also the—sniffle!—utterly adorable Chibiusa, right, and Chibi Chibi, left, here illustrated beside Usagi, the protagonist (as I, Atobe, hope you all remember from your happy childhoods) and Chibiusa's future mother. Manga. As an art, it certainly has moments where it ascends to the heights of Heaven.

*************


America, reports Crusader88, is being set aright. At the close of last night's program, Glenn Beck promised he would devote this upcoming Founders Friday to President Calvin Coolidge, the onetime Northampton mayor—it was a better time—whom Leslie adores. Be sure to watch, either at 5PM or, if you're like him, at 2AM—and that includes all the progressivist cretins who expend their time denouncing the good American Mr. Beck. Even I, Atobe, am not eminently familiar with this reportedly Silent Cal, so I will tune in as well. Leslie would have blogged this himself, but he is busy with an over-the-summer paper, and could not be bothered.

Be awed at the sight of my prowess!

The Mill River runs through Northampton, but in many places is well removed from the parallel streets, and accessible only after a brief trek through a mostly pathless wood. A few days ago, as I walked through a residential street, I noticed a convenient path thence behind a former auto dealership, and voilà.

Reflections along the Mill River

The visage of the creek, the shimmer of
Her woodringed surface in the shadebound wind,
Precipitate with legs of bugs who mind
Their own above young crayfish whose remove

In rockends seldom meets the sun. A tune
The crickets interlude between the nights
Succumbs to patter currents as the banks,
Stones blanched by countless summers passing on

Behemoths cut with human industry,
Enclose a swifter creek, her narrowed bed
A fluid cipher in the watershed.
The steep embankments, vacant but for me,

A restful couple aiming to enjoy
The glades in solitude, to whom I wave
In passing, and a cat, one slow to move,
Black, orphan, leisured as he makes his way

Long water's edge, rise to a lot outside
Aquadro's warehouse. Reams of planks and frames,
Square, arsenaline racks of iron wares,
These architectural colosses hid

Noachian anchors, tied with smelted cords
Runged in a gumdrop ton of concrete shank.
A titan built abandoned where he sank.
A man then feels right anchored where he stands.