Greetings from the Porch,

I spent most of this week at a gathering to discuss liberal arts education hosted by Kansas Wesleyan University. A highlight was finally making it to the Land Institute for a tour and hearing from Wes Jackson, who is still going strong as he nears his ninetieth birthday. On the way home, I made time to stop at Eighth Day Books, though I didn't have enough room in my luggage for even a fraction of the books I wanted to bring with me.

• In this week's Water Dipper I recommend essays about groceries, sin, and the grail.

• Alex Sosler kicks off our series responding to Magnifica Humanitas by giving a primer on Catholic Social Teaching: "Catholic Social Teaching has been called the best kept secret of the Catholic church. It seems like the secret is getting out, and for that, I’m glad."

• W. Aaron Vandiver counts the physical toll of AI's exponential growth: "AI may be perceived as an 'immaterial' technology, but it totally depends on data centers that have intense physical demands."

• Adam Smith talks with Joel Carillet about the possibility of being a transient localist: "Sometimes I’ll sit still for, say, an hour, and imagine all the people around the world who have embraced me, shook my hand, kissed my cheek."

• Elizabeth Stice reflects on the odd, hydra-like enemies we face each day: "The hydra we face is not only hard to defeat; it’s hard to define."

• Colin Gillette ponders the strange paths his life followed and the place and people who took him in when he needed a home: "Sometimes, God does not simply give or withhold. Sometimes He rearranges who belongs where."

• Michial Farmer listens to songs about the ocean this week.

One of the novels I’m reading this summer is Toni Morrison’s Beloved. I can see why it’s regarded as a classic. It’s a hard book to read, but after all the pain and unresolvable trauma that haunts the narrative, the ending surprised me with its tenderness and beauty. One exchange that evokes the book’s core is between a mother and an old friend who is talking with her about her child:

“Excuse me, but I can’t hear a word against her. I’ll chastise her. You leave her alone.”

Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous, especially if it was her children she had settled on to love. The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you’d have a little love left over for the next one. “Why?” he asked her. “Why you think you have to take up for her? Apologize for her? She’s grown.”

“I don’t care what she is. Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What’s that supposed to mean? In my heart it don’t mean a thing.”

Thanks for spending some time with us on the Porch,

Jeff Bilbro