Greetings from the Porch,

We got a burst of cold and snow this week. If this keeps up, there may be ice fishing in my future.

• In this week's Water Dipper I recommend essays about memorization, gamification, and sanctification.

• Brandon McNeice invites us to pay attention to frogs: "Our age keeps trying to seal things off—to make systems smooth, self-sufficient, and untouched by what lies outside them. We route streams into pipes, tuck servers into windowless rooms, design neighborhoods with no porches or sidewalks, and then act surprised when floods, outages, and isolation arrive on schedule. We talk about 'controlling outcomes' in ways that suggest we think our institutions float free of the places they sit in. And once again, frogs keep showing up."

• Christine Norvell imagines how bibliographies might be expressions of gratitude and delight: "I think authors should revel in their investigative work and model all the good research methods for our students. What if bibliographies were not required afterthoughts of citation ethics but instead showcases?"

• Alexander Salter critiques the phenomenon of very online candidates: "Very Online Candidates have a hard time distinguishing reposts on X or Instagram from votes. They are obsessed with seeming a certain way yet care not at all about being that way. They spurn traditional analog virtues—thriftiness and prudence in creating wealth, charity and honor in real community service—in favor of digital influence. They’ve never done much of anything, but they seem perfectly comfortable telling you how to live your life."

• Teddy Macker proposes a new cabinet for the next administration to fill out:

  Secretary of Kitchen Gardens and Small Diversified Farms
  Secretary of the Nameless Snowmelt Springtime Creeks Along the Highways of Wyoming
  Director of Indiscriminate Mercy

• S.C. Wiseman proposes nicotine as a means of rebelling against a culture that idolizes health and optimization: "In a world where most everything is permissible, civil disobedience can only be achieved through an action that is socially deplorable yet morally acceptable."

• Michial Farmer listens to songs about loneliness this week.

This week David Bannon’s new book A Hope Observed came out. It’s a beautiful book: hardbound, glossy pages, spacious layout, carefully selected artwork. The writing is also beautiful, as those of you know who’ve been reading David’s essays on grief here at FPR over the past few years. This book collects versions of many essays that first appeared here as well as other stories and meditations about grief and hope. One of my favorite essays is on the power of silent presence. You can read the essay here to whet your appetite for the book itself:

Rote condolences can seem hollow or insincere. Some may be. However, many people offer customary phrases because they do not know what else to say.

This may be one reason that the tradition of giving casseroles continues today. Supportive friends slave over their treasured recipes and present them to the house of mourning. When I worked at a busy funeral home, the bereaved sometimes scoffed, “Nothing says I’m sorry like a casserole,” only to learn later that their derisive statement was surprisingly accurate. In the onslaught of acute grief, faced with seemingly endless tasks before and after the funeral, mourners may slip a healthy and delicious casserole into the oven. No more effort is required. Such practical help is an act of love.

Thanks for spending some time with us on the Porch,

Jeff Bilbro