"Solomon, I have surpassed thee."

--The Emperor Justinian in A.D. 537, upon viewing the completed Cathedral of Holy Wisdom (Hagia Sophia in Greek). After the fall of Constantinople in A.D. 1453, Hagia Sophia was turned into a mosque, which entailed the painting over of the magnificent frescoes adorning the church. However, Kemal Ataturk, the first president of modern Turkey, ordered the building converted into a museum in 1934, and the frescoes are still in the process of being restored. The Turkish Republic has been, with the exception of renaming Constantinople "Istanbul," a solid (if not flawless), custodian of the city's Byzantine past.

Hagia Sophia still dominates the skyline today:

Another view:

From the East:

And then there is the interior:

Now for the frescoes:

This one is a closeup of the above, and depicts Justinian (left) presenting Hagia Sophia to the Infant Christ and the Virgin, and Constantine (right) presenting Constantinople to them.

Christ Pantocrator:

Next is a depiction of the Emperor John II Komnenos (Comnenus) (reigned 1118-1143) and his wife, the Empress Irene. John was beloved by his subjects and called "the Good." He never had anyone tortured or mutilated during his reign, which included a coup attempt at its very beginning by his elder sister, Anna (the famous historian and author of The Alexiad). It is suspected that Anna's reluctant husband, Nikephoros Bryennios, who was expected to be emperor if the plot succeeded, warned John. By the standards of the time, he was very lenient, merely sending the plotters off to a semi-comfortable banishment and confiscating their property. Moreover, he enjoyed several military successes, pushing back the Seljuk Turks and recovering territory lost to the Turks during the previous century. He and his wife also founded a large modern hospital for the poor in Constantinople:

Sts. John Chrysostom and Ignatius of Antioch, respectively:

More incurable Byzantinophilia to come. [All links except the first via the magnificent website of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople.]

Byzantium.

I don't know precisely when--or why--I got bit by the Byzantium bug. It was sometime in high school, though, and right after I went through my Ave Constantine Imperator! fascination with all things Roman phase. 

I suspect it was out of sheer joy that the saga of Rome had not ended with its collapse under barbarian assault, and now I would have even more to read. You know, there are times when I can actually hear Heather cringing from miles away. My high school friends may recall--with head-shaking, no doubt--me lugging obscure dust-covered tomes from the Alma College library, right down to one of the imperial treatises of Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus. 

What's that? "How many times did I go on dates in high school?" Um, 5 or so. Maybe less. Why do you ask? 

The good of it was that the obsession (call it what it is) culminated in a trip to the Island of Torcello, and the remarkable Church of Santa Maria Assunta. Santa Maria still has its cornerstone from 632, when the Byzantines built it. 

All of that is a prologue to say that I will be periodically posting bits about my fascination with this much-neglected part of history as time permits over the next several months, including book recommendations and the like. Here's a good start, though--a fairly-decent Wikipedia article about the history of the empire, a list of assorted primary and secondary source links, and a link to the incomparable art of Byzantium.

And because man cannot live on bile alone...

...though Lord knows I've tried.

The St. Blogger Formerly Known As Peppermint Patty has posted a wise essay on kids growing up. She's your go-to gal if you have perfume questions to address--and you know who you are.

I also liked her comment to me on kids growing up:

I hate to tell you, but once they hit school age, time just speeds up, and before you know it, you are watching them pack their things in a garbage bag and boxes and head off for their new life where you are just a spectator. But maybe we are always just spectators and fool ourselves into thinking it is more.

Maybe so--I think there's something to that last sentence.

RTWT.

Why so upset? It's just fiction.

Submissions Department
Random House, Inc.

Dear Sirs:

Enclosed is a copy of my first novel for your consideration. I think it will appeal to your readership at a number of levels: it is "simultaneously lightning-paced, intelligent, and intricately layered with remarkable research and detail." It centers on an explosive dark secret hidden by a very famous person and conspiratorial efforts to protect that secret. It also has plenty of sex, violence, nudity, along with violent sexual nudity. It will also be controversial.

With that introduction, I present to you: The DansMommy Code.

Yes, though fictional, it is based on aspects of the life of your hottest author, Mr. Dan Brown. Consequently, that will prove to be a useful hook to piggyback sales and simplify the promotional campaign.

The essential thesis of my fictional work is this: It was Mr. Brown's mother, Constance, who starred in the controversial film Deep Throat, not Linda Lovelace.

As noted above, though the book is fiction, it is based on the factual research done by myself. OK, me and my wife. The following is FACT:

• Mrs. Brown and "Linda Lovelace" were both alive the year the film was made;
• Mrs. Brown and "Linda" are both women;
• Mrs. Brown has no documentary evidence that she was not on the set while it was being filmed;
• Most startlingly, according to a respected pornologist I consulted who owns a copy of the script and some 8mm bootlegs of the film, DT contains a coded message: If you rearrange letters in the script, you get the phrase "I am Constance Brown." This is indisputable. [As an aside, I discovered this by using the scientific approaches similar to those taken by that Bible Code guy and the people who first played Stairway To Heaven and Walking On Sunshine backward and heard Lucifer talking.]
• There are coded images in the film which spell out the phrase.
• The Brown family would have an understandable motive to keep this quiet.

Now, the idea that Mr. Brown's mother could suck-start a leafblower will prove controversial, and no doubt the Browns might possibly take offense. However, (1) it's just fiction, and (2) DT was a revolutionary film with a resonating impact on culture, which continues to echo in the so-called "culture wars" of today, making these important ideas worth discussing. It is safe to say that the discussion generated will be fascinating, as will be the input of scholars of both print and film.

I look forward to your response.

Very truly yours,

Dale Black [pen name]

The Church Extremely Militant.

We made it to the Tridentine Mass again on Sunday--the elder two were clamoring for another visit. This time, they were much better behaved. Rachel, alas, was not--no patience for it yet.

The crowd was a little bigger than the last time, and a whole lot younger.

More good news: I think the TLM is reviving the parish to a degree. There were new steps leading to the entrance, and a new parish sign proudly advertising the Mass. Moreover, there was restoration underway inside the parish itself. Emphasis on "restoration"--not renovation. The old-school Stations of the Cross--entirely in Polish--were carefully protected and prepared for resetting. Scaffolding is in place, and new ceiling paint seems to be the order of the day.

Maddie: "This is the most beautiful church I've ever seen." Of that, I have no doubt. When she is of an age to travel, I'll direct her to Santa Maria Assunta on the island of Torcello in Italy. I'm pretty sure her Dad's rabid love of all things Byzantine will prove contagious. OK--most things Byzantine--the blindings and mutilations aren't on the list.

Moving on.

One of the great things about the old iconophile churches is that you are always noticing new details, or appreciating old details in a new way. This time, it was the former: somehow, I just noticed a major mural in the church this weekend.

In a remarkable coincidence, I read Tom's post on the Black Madonna of Czestochowa last Friday. I was familiar with the Black Madonna beforehand, having read and re-read James Michener's Poland, which features the icon--and has great battle scenes--as a teenager. We attend a parish which is about half Polish and has two Polish priests, so the Prices are well on our way to becoming honorary Poles--that is, if the Italian half of the parish doesn't get us first. But the Poles are in the lead--our one relic is from St. Faustina, and both our priests allow the kids to punctuate the liturgy with misbehavior short of confessed contract hits, so the Italians have some catching up to do.

So, as I am looking up to the immediate left of St. Josaphat's high altar, I spot a mural with some odd details. No, not the Virgin standing in the sky above a river, surrounded by the heavenly hosts, but the details below--soldiers? Modern soldiers? With rifles?

Yes--and also abandoned Maxim guns. I start craning my neck to get more details, but I already know what it is--it's the Battle of Warsaw, August 1920, a/k/a Cud nad Wisla, the Miracle at the Vistula.

In fact, the mural is a copy of this painting:

Picture credit here.

Yep, the mural even has the priest raising the crucifix as the Poles send Tukhachevsky's Red hordes into pell-mell retreat. Apparently, it wasn't quite triumphant enough for the exultant parishoners, who prevailed upon the artist to make it obvious that the Polish biplane was strafing the Russians.

I'll see you your Santiago Matamoros, and raise you the Miracle at the Vistula. Make sure you stop by to see St. Josaphat when you are in town.

Happy Birthday, Molly!

My brother's lovely daughter turns 6 today.

Happy birthdaaaaay toooo youuuuuuuuuuuuu....

And, because your uncle was charged with the task, you will get your card later this week...

Christina Update.

The cancer was a little more widespread than originally thought, but the good news is that the surgeons are confident they got all of it. Chemo will address the remaining sources of potential concern.

She is in relatively good spirits, having flipped off Heather during both visits--Saturday and today. The nasal tube is out, which is a great relief. She will likely be released during the next 3-7 days, depending.

The decay of reason.

David Klinghoffer points out why the success of the Da Vinci Code is the symptom of a broader problem:

Consider that the alleged conspiracy underlying the “biggest cover-up in human history” bears a remarkable resemblance to another phony conspiracy: the famous hoax called “The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.” Apparently authored by Russian monarchist and anti-Semite Mathieu Golovinski in 1898, “Protocols” tells of a secret society of Jewish elders that work to keep gentiles ignorant of a plot to rule the world through “Darwinism, Marxism and Nietzscheism.”

* * *

Besides highlighting the word “Zion” or “Sion,” the two conspiracy theories share an understanding of how to deal with ideas you disagree with. Rather than taking traditional Christian beliefs at face value and arguing against them (as I do in my current book, by the way), Brown portrays the religion itself as resting upon a conscious deception. That excuses him from having to make arguments at all.

Anti-Semites do the same thing. Rather than coming out honestly against Darwinism or Marxism or modernity in general, they concoct a story about Judaism as a lie and a conspiracy. “Protocols” remains a global phenomenon of staggering popularity, especially in the Arab world.

I emphasize that Brown never intended to foment bigotry. Yet to the cause of conspiracy theorizing, he has done a wonderful favor, training his readers in the habits of paranoia and gullibility. For people committed to finding the truth through investigation and argumentation, that’s depressing.

As for Jews, we haven’t fared well when the culture we live in turns to entertaining fantasies and delusions at the expense of an unfashionable religion. The success of Brown’s book, now transformed into a movie blockbuster, is bad news indeed.

[Thanks to Bill Cork for the link.]

Just a brief housekeeping post.

1. Christina's in for surgery today--yes, another delay, but by her choice. Should take about 4-5 hours, so keep the intercession/good thoughts coming.

2. Happy birthday to my little brother, Doug--who turns __ today. [Intentionally left blank because I'm three years older. Urk.] Have a good one, and watch an episode of Reno 911 for me [either the Burning Man or crossing guard ones].

3. People who are expecting stuff--be patient. Been far busier than anticipated the last three days.

Plenty to come--once the ducks are in a row. Watch this space.

The Southern Test is causing page loading problems.

I'm going to see what I can do to tweak it, then repost later.

Yes--we met Amy Welborn and Michael Dubruiel yesterday!

At Amy's presentation at St. Thomas the Apostle in Ann Arbor.

Ann Arbor: Where Driving Around The Cannabis-Inspired Road Grid Is Half The Fun!

Free Advice: Don't get lost in Ann Arbor. Ever. I don't know how many times variations of the phrase "degenerate/dirty hippies" were murmured by yours truly, but I suspect I'll found out the next time I attend St. Josaphat's and it comes tumbling out The Boy during the consecration.

Let me clarify slightly--I sorta met them. I said about three disjointed words to Amy (punctuated by "Rachel!" in my Warning Voice), and made sure Heather had Michael autograph the two books I wanted, and that may have been it. More one of those "in passing/in the same room" things.

You see, even at her young age, Rachel already knows The DaVinci Code is ten pounds of crap in a five pound bag, so she decided to go exploring instead of listening to the presentation, and I rode shotgun.

Why didn't you restrain her? you ask.

You've never had toddlers, I reply.

So, I followed her like a Secret Service agent. Into the parish kitchen, down the hall, out the locked doors leading to the outside (oooops), into the brick-lined street (I played goalie to ensure she didn't get much past the curb), up the stairs to where fruit tree blossoms were raining down in the wind, back down the stairs into the parish conference room, back up the stairs...

I think I said "Hi" to Amy and then raced off to prevent Rachel from doing something potentially tragic. She also tried to unplug the microphone wire twice, but was again thwarted by her no-fun-allowed father. I think--hope--Heather heard more, but apparently the elder two had BB bladder syndrome, so she had to race for the toilets at least twice.

[To clarify, yes, Heather is the primary writer of Blog No. 2--her contributions are in red.]

But, the napless managed to settle down enough for us to purchase three books (two fine ones on the Mass and the Eucharist by Michael, and a devotional by Amy that Heather lunged for) and get our previously purchased books autographed. Which lead to The Boy's shining moment, referenced in Amy's post.

Heather told him he could take it to Amy for autographing. But not while she was up at the mike answering questions....

Have I left the impression that patience is not his strong suit?

But Amy laughingly and graciously signed it, and Heather retrieved the copy, to the laughter of the audience.

Ah, well--a good time had by all.