These fleeting sketches […] amount to no more than a sort of sporadic diary–a diary recording one day in twenty which happened to stick in the fancy–the only kind of diary the author has ever been able to keep.  Even that diary he could only keep by keeping it in public, for bread and cheese.  But trivial as are the topics they are not utterly without a connecting thread of motive.  As the reader’s eye strays, with hearty relief, from these pages, it probably alights on something, a bed-post or a lamp-post, a window blind or a wall.  It is a thousand to one that the reader is looking at something that he has never seen: that is, never realised.  He could not write an essay on such a post or wall:  he does not know what the post or wall mean.  He could not even write the synopsis of an essay; as “The Bed-Post; Its Significance–Security Essential to Idea of Sleep–Night Felt as Infinite–Need of Monumental Architecture,” and so on.  He could not sketch in outline his theoretic attitude towards window-blinds, even in the form of a summary.  “The Window-Blind–Its Analogy to the Curtain and Veil–Is Modesty Natural?–Worship of and Avoidance of the Sun, etc., etc.”  None of us think enough of these things on which the eye rests.  But don’t let us let the eye rest.  Why should the eye be so lazy? Let us exercise the eye until it learns to see startling facts that run across the landscape as plain as a painted fence.  Let us be ocular athletes.  Let us learn to write essays on a stray cat or a coloured cloud.  I have attempted some such thing in what follows; but anyone else may do it better, if anyone else will only try.

G. K. Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles, Preface

I am heartily sorry to add to the already large and grossly burgeoning blogosphere – truly I am.  I have no idea whether I have even a fig-leaf of an excuse for this ‘blog at all – we shall see, I suppose. 

I feel especially for those who have stumbled upon it expecting an on-going encomium upon puddings, something upon which I myself should always be glad to alight.  But I have little to say upon puddings except “Mmm-mm,” and “Perhaps I could manage just a little piece more” – and besides, it’s Lent. 

And that’s the other thing I ought to mention.  This blog can be expected to be shot through with the spirit of what Chesterton (the site’s unauthorised patron) called “The Thing” – i.e., the Catholic faith.  Thus it is with Chesterton that I began this ur-post, as he does introductions better than I ever could. 

Be thankful, poor reader, that I abandoned my initial thought of pinning my colours to another Catholic mast – and that you were thus spared a site entitled “WeBelloc”.  If puns of this nature distress you (and whom don’t they?), you may find this site best avoided altogether. 

You are thus most heartily welcomed and duly cautioned.

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