We opened this page in the expectation of garnering some awards in the near future, since many of our visitors comment upon the site's pleasantness, thoughtfulness, and technical viability.  Yet our estimate was deceived, apparently.  Those self-ordained arbiters to whose e-taste we have appealed are unimpressed by all the thought, labor, intensity, and sincerity displayed here.  A brief review of their blue-ribbon favorites has revealed to us (among other things) that we should have deployed black backgrounds barely pricked by lurid purple lettering in microscopic pitch, unfurled a sultry urban skyline or an array of Belle au Bois Dormant pink flowerets along the lower home-page panel, shrugged up some "whatever" jive (liberally using the polyvalent phrases "me again" and "blah-blah-blah"), set the whole thing visually pulsing like a dyspeptic neutron star, and piped in our favorite hard-or-soft rock musack to reassure those whose unsteady literate skills can project no sound upon letters.  Obviously, our failure by all of these criteria was dismal.

On the other hand, it has occurred to us that being disdained by people who spend most of their day idly browsing the Web is itself a badge of honor.  We therefore and hereby award ourselves the Cer-webellum Award for Cyber Entertainment Resistance.  Thank you, thank you.  And to all visiting Web reviewers, we extend the standing offer of a handsome traveling basket from whose ample straw the navigator may steer a direct and uneventful descent to Hell rather than await the tedious, certain dénouement (that means "unraveling") of Web culture. 


"When joy is greatest, grief is nearest."

The Irish proverb's sentiment is not very optimistic.  Yet the Greeks, too, shared this mistrust of fortune (for instance, the proverb, "Let no man be deemed blessed until his life is entirely finished," which appears in both Sophocles and Herodotus); and the Stoics made freedom from chance's whim into a philosophy ("Nil admirari," warns the Roman poet Horace: "Be surprised by nothing").  In an age when "passion", quite unclassically, is considered a "good" word, we would do well to rediscover how to slow our shallowest emotions and, with patient thought, make them run deeper.

home to The Center          more about us          Praesidium