TV Review: Doctor Who “Joy to the World” 2024 Christmas Special is More about Loneliness than Just your Everyday Time Lord

Greig here, reporting for Stones of Erasmus! I’ve just caught the Doctor Who Christmas special, “Joy to the World,” now streaming on Disney+. Featuring Ncuti Gatwa as the Doctor, and Nicola Couglan as the Doctor's newest companion, Joy—the episode delivers a heartfelt holiday romp that deftly balances time-warp shenanigans, cozy Yuletide feelings, and profound meditations on loneliness. Below is a spoiler-filled review, pieced together from my own viewing and reflections—as well as tidbits you’ll see mirrored in fan discussions online. Let’s hop into the TARDIS and go!

"Ham and cheese toastie and a pumpkin latte?" Yes. Please!
Image Credit: Disney+

Plot Summary: A Time Hotel and a Bomb-Star

Premise. Fresh off the heartbreak of losing Ruby Sunday in last season’s final episode (“Empire of Death”), the Doctor finds himself wandering solo once again. This time, though, his path leads him to a futuristic “Time Hotel,” where it’s Christmas every moment—simultaneously. Patrons pop in and out of doorways leading to any Christmas from any time or place, which makes for a whimsical, if slightly disorienting, holiday getaway.

Loneliness and Joy. The Doctor’s search for a companion is a well-trodden theme—think back to the Ninth Doctor meeting Rose Tyler at the start of the show’s 2005 revival. Eccleston's Doctor was a sad-sack sort of a guy. Or, even Matt Smith's Doctor, before he meets Amelia Pond. In “Joy to the World,” the Doctor’s latest potential friend is Joy, a hotel guest who reveals a painful past: she was unable to see her mother in her final hours during the COVID-19 pandemic. Over the course of the special, Joy becomes entangled in the machinations of the Villengard Corporation, who have concocted a threat so preposterous only Doctor Who could pull it off—a bomb made from an incubating star, hidden inside a dinosaur.

Holiday Hijinks. The central comedic—and cosmic—conceit sees the Doctor sneaking through the Time Hotel’s ever-shifting corridors, inadvertently stumbling onto the Orient Express, engaging in Rube Goldberg–style escapades, and saving the day with a mixture of scientific know-how and plenty of empathy. Ultimately, the star that could have detonated as a cosmic bomb instead hearkens back to the Star of Bethlehem—tying together the show’s Christian allusions with the Doctor’s timeless message of hope.

Themes & Analysis: Solitude, Star of Bethlehem, and Home

Alone at Christmas. Tying in real-world statistics about those who spend Christmas alone, “Joy to the World” shines a light on the Doctor’s enduring isolation. The script cleverly parallels the Doctor’s solitary existence with Joy’s own journey: both are searching for connection, but they shy away from it out of hurt or regret. Watching them bond—when the Doctor reveals he spent a year waiting for a Time Hotel doorway to reopen—grounds this Christmas special in surprisingly raw emotion.

The Doctor on the Psychology of Hotel Rooms: 

I just spent a year in a hotel room that you chose. Do you know what you can tell about a person from the hotel room that they choose?. . . . So you see, a house, that's a . . . that's a disguise. It's a fortress. You can . . . you can hide yourself away with pictures and flowers and tables. But a hotel room? That's you without make-up. It's what you think you need. It's what you are willing to accept. Not a selfie that you posed for, more like catching yourself in the mirror. What's your mirror telling you . . . .?

Finding Home in a Hotel Room. One of the most poignant lines (which I reprinted above for convenience sake) addresses what it means to choose a particular hotel room as “home.” A house can mask who we are, but a hotel room is a quick choice that often reveals our unfiltered wants and emotional states. Joy’s reasons for picking a dull, almost drab room speak volumes about her sorrow—and the Doctor’s year-long stay there symbolizes how stepping into someone else’s space can illuminate both their pain and your own.

A Yuletide Miracle. The biblical references are more than window dressing. The Star of Bethlehem (and Saint Augustine’s idea that it was created as a miraculous sign) resonates with the show’s whimsical claim: perhaps each one of us has the capacity to “shine” like a star, or be guided by someone else’s light. This is typical Doctor Who: whether it’s a tyrannosaur swallowing a star-bomb or a grief-stricken companion longing for closure, the show always circles back to the miracle and fragility of being human.

Final Thoughts: A Whimsical, Welcoming Christmas Tale

While “Joy to the World” crams in a dizzying array of plot threads—part Victorian train chase, part apocalyptic star-bomb standoff—its real triumph is the Doctor’s renewed sense of empathy. Even if the pacing feels rushed at times, the episode’s emotional center holds firm: we see a lonely alien traveler and an ordinary human, both caught in cosmic chaos yet strangely united by the universal longing to not be alone during the holidays.

Where the story truly succeeds is in reminding us that each person’s inner life is worth exploring. Whether it’s a fleeting cameo on a train or a quiet conversation about grief, every encounter has the potential to transform. And what better day than Christmas—when so many people struggle with isolation—to give audiences an allegory about love, hope, and the star shining in each of us?

“Joy to the World” might not be the Doctor Who holiday special you were looking for (fact-checkers note that it’s helmed more by the Disney-peeps, and is not solely BBC property), but in the realm of imaginative Christmas adventures, it’s a cozy gem. And if you’ve found yourself alone this holiday, let the Doctor’s foray into the Time Hotel remind you: you’re okay, and connection is always a possibility—even in the strangest of places or the simplest of gestures.

Stray Observations

• The Doctor speaks in his usual timey-wimey, scientific manner in most episodes (think, "Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow"), and in this episode, "mavity" is back, with the Doctor quipping something about rotational gravity. If you know, you know.
• Steven Moffat wrote "Joy to the World," and it shows—it's a smart move on Russell T. Davies's part. As showrunner, he isn't shy about including past writers while staying true to the show's vision. 
• I loved the nod to last season’s episode “Boom”—with ticking bombs, collateral damage, and the sentient consciousness heroes—Villengard's victims—(RIP Trev, and the Silurian). 
• I appreciated the nuanced portrayal of Anita Benn, the Sandrighman Hotel proprietor, played by Stephanie de Whalley. Her character's understanding of Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor resonates with the queer audience; in a poignant moment, she empathizes with the Doctor, noting that neither of them has a boyfriend. 
• Additionally, the woman the Doctor encounters reading Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express—Sylvia Trench, portrayed by Niamh Marie Smith—was revealed to be writing a letter to her girlfriend. I wished she had more screen time.

Happy holidays, fellow Whovians, and may your own hotel room—literal or metaphorical—feel a little less lonely this season.

—Greig,

Stones of Erasmus

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Navigating New Beginnings: Reflections on Teaching and Personal Growth in Jackson Heights

Discover a teacher's reflections on personal growth and career transitions, inspired by deep connections with students in Jackson Heights.

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step" — Lao Tzu

Jackson Heights in Queens is Aglow with May Flowers

On Leaving

Jason, whom we'll call by that name, arrived in the classroom accompanied by Corey, also a pseudonym. They exclaimed, "Mr. Roselli, are you leaving? You're my favorite teacher!" Indeed, there is a departure, but the term "leaving" should be viewed more as moving forward. The accuracy of being their favorite teacher might be debatable, yet what truly resonated in that moment was their genuine concern. Their warmth and optimistic demeanor were unexpectedly touching, especially since adolescent boys often oscillate between being reserved and taciturn or loud and brash. This encounter was a proud one, as it reflected a significant connection made.

Existential Moment

I find myself in a place in life that I haven't experienced in a long time. I'm just wrapping up eight years of teaching at my current school in the Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens, where I've had the honor and pleasure of working with a host of wonderful, curious students. I've gotten to know and work with these students over the years. The current seniors I'm teaching this year have been my students since they were in fifth grade. I taught some of them a research class in sixth grade, an ethics class in middle school, and English in 10th grade. Some I also taught as their history and humanities teacher in 11th grade, and now they're seniors. 

I find myself at a precipice because I am leaving my current school to venture out into a different world. Just like the phoenix, I am ready to rise from the ashes in a new place. This transition has prompted me to reflect on who I am and where I am in life. I am very proud of the work I have done, not only in the past eight years at my current job but also over my entire 13-year career teaching secondary education, covering grades 5 through 12. Just last year, I finally received my professional teaching certification in New York State, which is now part of my official records.

From One Place to Another

I find it fascinating to consider what teaching truly involves. We plant our feet in a specific place, within a specific community. And Oh! The places we go. Whether it is the New Orleans where I grew up, or the many visits I have made to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I am a sojourner. I've had the privilege of traveling to China with students and teachers and visiting other students in Beijing, Suzhou, Shanghai, and Xi'an. This past February, I traveled with 51 students and 10 teachers to London and Paris. And what about the journey of writing, of reading? I sometimes say you really don't need to leave a place to visit the world. Open a book. Think about it. Since 2017, I have created over 270 unique educational resources, sourced from the public domain, the New York Public Library’s digital collections, and various humanities-based topics, ranging from Socrates to Angela Davis. I can't be done yet, no m'am!

Teaching Humanities, adolescents are exposed to different ideas. And that is an exciting space to carve out in a classroom. While I definitely have my own opinions, and beliefs, and I inhabit the world in a certain way, I wonder how distanced from myself I need to be as an educator to allow my students to begin thinking independently and not merely parroting my ideas (or someone else's). Today, someone asked me about the concern that teachers might indoctrinate their students, which made me think about how we barely have time for that in the classroom. I can be completely myself, yet also create a space for dissenting opinions, which I appreciate as long as we adhere to basic human integrity principles and aim to share rather than harm. I always start my humanities classes with this principle: We state our own opinions and ideas; we do not attack others’. For example, instead of saying, "Deborah thinks capital punishment is illegal, and she’s stupid for thinking so," we say, "I believe capital punishment should be legal in the United States." We take ownership of our ideas, and this is how I conduct discussions in my classroom. 

Reflecting on Mid-Life

Approaching middle age-I'll be 45 in December-I feel confident yet exhausted, and curious about what's next. Maybe that curiosity is what's pushing me to explore a new direction. If Dante, in his classic epic, can find himself guided to new places, where he is "mid-life in his journey," then so can I?

Right? Listen! 

I saw Jason and Corey again; this time, it was during lunch, where 1 sat with two very quiet, amazing teachers and about thirty loud teenagers. They had some stories to tell me-like, 'Remember that time you taught an entire lesson dressed up as Doctor Who?' or, 'When we were being rowdy, so you climbed on the table in your classroom to get our attention?' Yes, those anecdotes are most likely true. By nature, I am an ephemeral person; not much of what I do is permanent. Often feeling like a visitor in my own life, I am comforted when others can validate my experiences. For sure-my tombstone will not merely read

'Greig—he washed his dishes!'

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I Wish I Were a Timelord: And Other Flights of Fantasy

I look like an incarnation of the Doctor from @bbcdoctorwho (maybe an imitation of Tom Baker’s version of the infamous Time Lord from Gallifrey). I’d be a great character interpretation. And my companions would be @dyspraxic_nightmare, @juky_chen, and @enceladus415. 

I’m on my way to a friend’s Thanksgiving feast — in New Hyde Park. And I’m disastrously late. I brought dilly and spinach dip and chips. 

Counter-intuitively I’m also worried about whether or not either one of the @nasa Voyager spacecraft’s golden records will be intercepted by an intelligent species. Or will the human cargo merely drift along in space? If there is a real Doctor Who — maybe he’ll intercept it with an instrument from the TARDIS.

I'm grateful for friends, my bed, comfy clothes, Coke Zero, and unlimited data. What are you grateful for?

Have a great day, everybody!

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#doctorwho #hello #lirr #ronkonkoma #longisland #fantasy #innerdialogue #thanksgiving #2022 #holiday

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Book Review: A Tangled Mercy by Joy Jordan-Lake

In this post, I write a review of the novel A Tangled Mercy by Joy Jordan-Lake. Warning: spoilers are included in this review. 

I Had Read Octavia E. Butler Recently

I had recently read Octavia E. Butler's novel Kindred. It's also a story that goes back and forth between past and present, and it's also about piecing together clues about family relations, enslavement, and how Black protagonists resisted their White enslavers. Butler's novel is about a Black novelist in 1970s Los Angeles who goes to the past in 19th century Maryland. This novel is about a White graduate student from Boston who travels to her mother's hometown of Charleston, South Carolina. I mention this because it shows my reading trajectory and how I picked up this book. Also, the novel, as the author states in an interview, took her twenty years to write, and through the course of its development takes on many twists and turns. As you will see. 

Kate Drayton — Graduate Student from Boston

In A Tangled Mercy, Kate Drayton is the protagonist. But I found myself decreasingly interested in her. She's found herself in her deceased mother's hometown of Charleston, South Carolina. The novel is long, though. About four hundred pages, and it spends at least three hundred pages slowly revealing how Kate and her family's lives are interwoven with the events of an enslaved blacksmith named Tom Russell from 1822. And it ends — spoiler alert — with an explosive current event. All of the events, how they all fit together into one story, is a bit confusing, and I had to read certain parts twice, stop reading the book, put it down, and do some online background reading just to puzzle out what was happening. 

The novel plays into the historical events of a slave revolt that occurred in 1822, called the Denmark Vesey Rebellion. The novel juxtaposes Kate's narrative with the third-person story of Tom Russell. In my mind, the Kate chapters had a female voice and the Tom chapters had a male voice. We find out that Tom Russell was hung and shot for being part of the revolt. As I said, I did get confused at this point, because this sticking point, Russell's death, is put forth as possibly not ever happening — and that Tom might have survived. Spoiler alert: he didn't survive. But I will leave it to you, the reader, to figure out his legacy. 

Historical Events are Interconnected — But What Does it All Mean?

So there is a lot of historical backdrop here, the AME church in Charleston where the riot originated, the story of how Charleston became the port of entry for half of the new world's enslaved population, and lots of other details the author obviously had done tons of research to mine for a novel. But I found myself losing interest in Kate's ambiguity; her, mission. And more interested in the novel's minor characters. I liked the character of Gabe, a young boy she befriends. He is funny, quirky, and often has the right answers to what's going on around him. 

I did like literary references in the book — and I laughed out loud when Kate and Scudder Lambeth are stuck in his pick-up truck discussing William Faulkner and Southern Literature. The character of Scudder, Gabe's uncle, is so much more eloquent than Kate. And the story offers a would-be love story that made me tear my hair out. Just go there! I thought. But perhaps it was not meant to be. Although Kate quotes Faulkner, I don't think she got the idea that the past seeps into the present. By the way — I do want a spin-off novel about either Gabe as a woke kid in South Carolina or about the subtle poetic genius of Scudder Lambeth.

And I liked how the city of Charleston is portrayed as a Southern town of secrets, gossip, and the like. My gripes were minor — like if you're going to dive into the ramifications of racial tension in America, go all the way. When Kate talks with Gabe and his father, both Black characters, she seems so tentative that it's like, OMG — get over your white fragility. But then I realized that's probably a realistic depiction. 

Because A Tangled Mercy is not about the experience of being Black in America, however, it doesn't purport to be (although it does include Black history, as seen through Kate's eyes, and the third-person narrative about Tom Russell). It's a story about a woman who doesn't trust others, is fragile, and is trying to become woke. It's a story about familial disappointment, failure, and other adult worries and anxieties. As, that, the story is fairly decent. Kate Drayton reminds me of very articulate, educated people who are so caught up in their search for truth that when they discover something special, it's hard for them to see it. Even when it's right in front of their face. 

Hints at Racial Tension Simmer Beneath the Novel's Historical Charm

I am not sure if certain plot points were included in later drafts — for example how Gabe is portrayed. I get that maybe including the bit where Gabe is thought to have a firearm in his pocket — and a policeman overacts — it's based on the lived experience of being Black in America — I thought the story could have explored this issue more deeply. Those elements seem forced and it felt misplaced, here. All American Boys by Jason Reynolds does a much better job at exploring this topic — and it also includes different point-of-view chapters. And while Lake, in her novel, alludes to Trayvon Martin, a boy who was gunned down when the skittles in his pocket was mistaken for a gun, it is an actual current event, its allusion in this novel confused me about the themes the novel wishes to convey. Why does the novel include these references? But why does it not go further?

I'd like to have seen Gabe's experience more, his point-of-view, rather than just being that intelligent, gifted kid who helps Kate gain clarity. Also — the novel alludes to an incident in 2009 when the Black historian Louis Gates, Jr., was arrested for trying to gain access to his home in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Someone called the cops because they thought he was a burglar. The novel mentions the incident, but Gates's name is not used. I appreciated the reference to current events, but it seemed a tangential mention and made me wonder what the book was trying to say. 

The Novel Includes the 2015 Charleston Shooting

Now, I do want to say that when I read the novel, I did not realize that it includes events from the 2015 Charleston shooting, when a white supremacist, Dylann Roof, walked into the basement of the church and gunned down nine church members who were participating in a bible study: The Rev. Clementa Pinckney, Cynthia Hurd, The Rev. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, Tywanza Sanders, Ethel Lance, Susie Jackson, Depayne Middleton Doctor, The Rev. Daniel Simmons, and Myra Thompson. 

I had to stop reading the novel, at this point and read about how Joy Jordan Lake had decided to include the event. It seems that Lake had written her novel before the shooting; but, if you did not know that, you would have been surprised to see that Lake mentions the AME church, from the beginning, because it is the same church where the Vesey revolt was planned, and it is the site where the shooting took place. And the pastor has the same last name, Pinckney, that Lake uses in the novel. Lake was alarmed by this and almost didn't publish her novel, on that June day in 2015. Also, the murderer, Dylann Roof, knew of the importance of the church, which is why he chose it. 

Lake says that her original manuscript was not the final product. The novel went through a lot of changes after the shooting. She almost abandoned the project altogether. But she decided to include it on the advice of her publisher. I mention this because if you did not know this backstory, like me, it'd catch you by surprise. And then, it made sense why Lake had included those references earlier, to Trayvon Martin, and Louis Gates, Jr — in relation to Gabe.

Also, Lake chooses to have Gabe witness the events of the church shooting; in reality, there is no evidence of a boy named Gabe at the church that day. So it made me wonder how much of Gabe was in the first draft of the novel, and how much the character changed after the Lake changed it because of the events of 2015. Gabe is a witness to the shooting in the novel, so we the reader, have a enactment of events, down to Roof's description, and details of the massacre.

Anyway — there is a lot to unpack here. I started a novel thinking one thing, and by the end, it became something else. Entirely.

I give the book three out of five stars. It aims for eloquence, but ultimately fizzles at putting a finger on the pulse of real events.

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Stones of Erasmus Television Review — Doctor Who: Flux, "Village of the Angels"

In this post, I write about the fourth episode of Doctor Who: Flux, "Village of the Angels," that aired on BBC America tonight.

Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow!

I suppose you are a fan of the Doctor? Right? The Doctor is amazing! One of the best shows in the history of television! In any case, you might have noticed that when the Doctor is in a pickle — such as in tonight's episode, "Village of the Angels," — they can get out of anything. Shouts a few lines about reversing the energy of something or other —  as the following fantastic supercut from DoctorGeek illustrates:

How do you sum up the British Sci-Fi television series Doctor Who in a few sentences? 

The Doctor is a Time-Traveling Alien

The Doctor is an alien time-traveler who travels in a broken time machine that has been begrudgingly stuck in the shape of a British police box. The Doctor almost always has an earthling companion, and he (or she) has a penchant for the human beings of planet earth. The show is at its heart a story about saving the heart of humanity — seen through the perspective of someone who is not us — but who is madly in love with us, silly, stupid, harmful humans. In tonight's episode, part four of a Dr. Who mini-series entitled The Flux, the Doctor meets a devastating bind; by saving the life of a human, she falls into a trap. And viewers were left on the edge of their seats with quite a crazy twist.

Jodi Whitaker's Doctor Finds out More About Her Past — At a Cost

The Doctor is about to find out more about her past — more about the past that even pre-dates the narrative history of the show itself, the past the Doctor lived before they were our Doctor! The show has toyed with this idea for a dozen episodes so far, with the big reveal in Season Thirteen that the Doctor is not indigenous to the race of the Time Lord — the race they thought they were — but a "Timeless Child," whose regeneration properties the Time Lords retrofitted to their own purposes. 

And much of the Doctor's deep past on Gallifrey was wiped out from their mind — and what we know of the Doctor, as television viewers might be just a glimpse of a cosmic history of a character who already seems larger than life — so I have to say I am excited for the next two episodes of the show.

Can the Doctor Escape the Weeping Angels and the Division?

Will The Doctor be able to get out of this pickle? How will her friends get out of their pickle? Last season ended with the Doctor imprisoned by the Judoon and Jack Harkness came to the rescue — but I am not so sure the Doctor is going to escape Weeping Angels so easily. And then there is the Division. Who are they? And how much will they reveal about the Doctor's past? 

Are you a fan? 

Let me know your thoughts on tonight's episode in the comments.

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Feast of Saint Benedict — Photos of Work and Community from My Time as a Benedictine Monk (c. 2004)

Today is the feast day of Saint Benedict of Nursia, famous cenobite who, 1,500 years ago, carved out a rule for people to live together in community, living by a rule of Ora et Labora. I have been rummaging through old thumb drives, hard drives, and forgotten folders on my Google Drive and I have managed to come across some interesting finds that date back a decade or so — back when my life was a Benedictine monk in south Louisiana.
I had a Canon Sure Shot camera back then — and I would get my hands on black and white film and take photos of life in action. These photos are of jobs that I undertook when I was a relatively young monk in temporary profession (which means I had not yet made my final vows). At twenty-five years of age, I had just made my profession, and my life was caught up in the rhythm of work and community living.

We had a small barbershop in the monastery. If someone wanted a haircut they asked Br. Elias or Fr. Ambrose — and voilà you got a haircut. No need for SuperCuts.

Dom Gregory DeWitt created this painting on wood of Christ's first haircut. 

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Ideally, everything is provided for in Benedictine communities. People who become Benedictines often bring with them their skills. We had bread makers, honey maker, vintner, pianist, writer, and farmer. Famously, the community I lived in had hosted a Flemish monk who was a famed artist. This was in the 1940s and 50s. Dom Gregory Dewitt, O.S.B. painted the murals in the monks' refectory (e.g., the dining room) and the church. But he also painted small curiosities that one could still find. In the barbershop, where I had my haircut many times, there was a wonderful painting on wood of "Christ's First Haircut." It depicts an almost Norman Rockwell-esque version of the Holy Family. Christ has placed his halo on a nail so his father Joseph can cut his hair. Mary sits in a chair nearby sewing a piece of cloth, and an angel sweeps the floor!
Often we would have to go to the nearby town to run errands, or to bring older members of the community to a doctor's appointment or to go shopping for this, that, and any other thing.

 

 I invented "Book Face Friday" way before its adoption on social media. In this photograph, taken sometime in 2004, I had Br. Bernard take a photo with a cover of a book I was reading entitled "A Brief History of Everything".

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Sometimes in the evening after prayer, we would have small group activities, like one night a week, we did poetry readings. I don't remember much of what we read, but I remember it was heavily attended by some of the older community members, so it made me become more familiar with caring for Senior citizens. I fondly remember Fr. Dominic and Fr. Stan who were consistent members of our poetry reading sessions. Fr. Dominic had been poised to enter the world of operatic drama and singing but he ended up joining the community in the 1950s and was a strong supporter of Civil Rights and liturgical reform. He had a booming baritone voice, that he used proudly. I took him on many outings during my time, and while we were never really close friends, I think he appreciated how I initiated creativity and sparked his more associative thinking process. Fr. Stan had lived in New York for many years as a parish priest, but when he retired he came back to our community in Louisiana. I remember he was soft-spoken, sometimes passive-aggressive, but he was a writer, especially of poetry. I wonder where his writings are now and whether any of his stuff was published?

After dinner on Sundays, it was considered a more-or-less-leisure time. We could talk at table (while eating dinner), invite guests, and have a beer or a glass of wine. After dinner, each evening, one of us was assigned to wash dishes — which was a fun job — because we used this industrial strength dishwasher!

Outside of the monastery building were a set of benches where we could relax, talk, and if people were smokers, they could smoke.

Although most of us were not allowed to smoke, because the Abbot made a new rule saying younger members had to quit smoking, but those who had already developed the habit were silently allowed. Those were the rules.

 

 In the kitchen, we had a crew of workers, some from the outside, like this woman — her name is L. and I remember we used to talk a lot about her children.

For a couple of Summers, I was part of the camp program — where we had campers from across the state come in for weeks at a time; they stayed in a campground, replete with a chapel, cabins, swimming pool, dining area, and a Pavillion — about a quarter-mile from our community, but still on the property. On Sundays, the kids would come to the church for Mass and I would give a tour of the buildings, pointing out some of the features of Dom Gregory DeWitt's artwork. I love how in this photograph I have most of the kids' attention.
Lagniappe (More Photos)

Quotation: On the Process of Healing (And the Surprises of a Pandemic)

Time is usually the best medicine

— Ovid (43 B.C.E.-17 C.E.), Roman Poet

In this post, I get a little personal with Ovid's quote on time and healing.

A young boy dresses up as a physician for Halloween.

Is Ovid's Prescription for Healing On Point?

     Thank you, Ovid. You old miser of a poet. I think of you and your prescription on time when I think of my ankle. Ever since the global outbreak of the Coronavirus and nearly the entire planet in isolation — I have been off my legs more than usual. Staying at home, I can elevate my ankle even when I am working and I have taken to piling up a corner of my bed with pillows. I prop up my leg and watch whatever's popping on Amazon Prime Video. 

*snapshot of me looking not quite so elegant* 

      I am pitiful at self-care even though I preach it to my friends. "Self-care," I tell my work wife Amira, "Yes, mama." "No," I tell her when she imitates me. It's "Ma-MA" — you have to enunciate it like a proper gay homo sapiens. Of course, she reminds me that she is not gay (so how the heck would she know how to pronounce it correctly?) — but she loves my epithets and exonerations. I call Amira my work wife because she is. We work together at the same school and even though we had a rocky start to our relationship — she thought I was a creepy straight, nerd guy with glasses — we hit it off once she realized I am a flaming homosexual and yes, I'm still a nerd guy with glasses. Yay! Identity politics at play. And friendship. It comes in joyous bursts way more comforting than an ill-fitted ankle.

Ankle Pain and Estranged Boyfriends (And a Shoutout to My Work Wife, Amira) 

     I've had ankle pain in my left leg for, oh, about five years. It comes and goes. Short spasms of pain, then the pain subsides, and I forget about it. And like a surprise call from my estranged boyfriend, it returns — a familiar pain — I've almost become used to it. Like I've become used to my former boyfriend who sends me Facebook messages when I least expect it — a familiar cycle where I realize why we are estranged, what brought us farther apart. But. I like him. But the lingering sadness of why we broke up still remains. 

      Suffering is not an abstract concept. However, suffering is also not transitive — it does have a discernible object — it's there, you feel it but it's not like you can say, "There. There is my pain." I say, for instance, "I am sad. I am forlorn. I am aggrieved;" in fact, "I feel" is a grammatically correct sentence. But you cannot say, "I am pain." To say, "I suffer" is a close approximation, but even this utterance seems to lack the punch of an object, of a source of suffering. Perhaps that is why we call people who suffer, "patients" — since suffering (and by extension) pain — is a passive emotion, a feeling of protracted misery that takes time to heal.

Healing Wounds With the Best Medicine — Time

     One version of Ovid’s quote is “Time heals all wounds,” rather than time is a proper drug. I like the idea of time healing wounds — but did you know that Alfred E. Neuman once said time heals all wounds, except for your belly button? And I am fairly positive that Adam and Even did not have to worry about that particular wound since they technically did not have umbilical cords. Thank you, first parents. You made it suck for the rest of us.

The outbreak has brought me a strange gift of healing. I am grateful, right?

     The photo (above) is cringe-worthy. I step outside. How ’bout dat? And I say, “You did this for what?” Crossing the avenue to drop off mail in the blue U.S. Post Office box, I think, ‘Who will collect this? I hope they stay safe.’ I feel a tinge of worry. This feeling of needing to stay protected. How everyday activities have become tinged with anxiety. The social contract has taken a beating this season. It’s rainy. Today. And I just read in the newspaper that a polar vortex is set to hit the northeast. I long for a long hike in the Catskills. And for the fun of it - a visit to the sauna - I could use a peppermint soaked hot house shower - don’t you? And my ankle feels better. I am surprised. I feel strength returning to my tired tendons. A source of life has come back to me — a paradoxical gift of this damn epidemic. Thank you, Covid-19 — you ugly, mothereffer. Self-care, yes, Mama! (That’s pronounced Ma-MA).

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Quote on Beauty and Difference from the Classic Series of Dr. Who — "The Genesis of the Daleks" (1975)

"Why must we always destroy beauty? Why kill another creature because it is not in our image?" I keep the classic series of Dr. Who on replay at my house. I want to catch up on episodes I have missed — and I particularly like the Tom Baker episodes. He's the fourth incarnation of the Doctor, and he portrayed the character from 1974 to 1981 (the longest-running tenure of the role in the show's history).

The Genesis of the Daleks:     In the Terrance Dicks written chapter entitled "The Genesis of the Daleks," — the Doctor is sent back in time and space to the Dalek planet Skaro to prevent war between humans and the Dalek race from occurring in the future. The episode is an origin story of the Daleks —  a race of boxy, dangerous aliens. The Daleks have proved to be the doctor's most fearsome, persistent nemesis. With their vibrating cry of "Exterminate!" it is not a hard extrapolation that the Daleks are meant to represent the extreme version of what happens when a species goes all-out bonkers with racial superiority and hatred of difference. The Daleks annihilate difference and vouchsafe sameness in the universe. There is a twist in this episode, however, since the Doctor learns that the Daleks are the creation of a figure named Davros — a humanoid with a Dalek-shaped lower body. The Daleks are the master idea of a diabolical mastermind. Are you getting a Hitler-tingle? Well. You should.

Are Humans More Destructive or Creative as a Species?     
As per the course of a Dr. Who narrative — there is a lot of meaningful talk about what difference (and how humans deal with that which is different) means for the future of humanity. Are we more like the Daleks — whose prime directive is to kill all lifeforms, not like their own? The writers of the show make obvious nods to humanity's own track record for acting like Daleks — think of violence enacted in the name of racial superiority or the banal way in which humans become exterminators under certain conditions — think of the gas chambers that annihilated Jews, homosexuals, people of color, and other so-called dissidents — or the way guards at Guantanamo Bay tortured and debased human beings under their supervision. 

A Trenchant, Relevant Quote    
One scene in particular is a miniature of the grand themes Terrance Dicks is hashing out in the show. In a brief episode of capture, Sarah Jane Smith, one of the Doctor's classic companions, is considered for extermination. But a voice cries out. And asks a question: Why destroy beauty? Why destroy another creature because it does fit into one's own image?

(Sarah is out cold as a muto strokes her face.)SEVRIN: She's beautiful. No deformities, no imperfections.GERRILL: She is a norm. All norms are our enemies. Kill her now for what she's done to our kind.SEVRIN: No, why? Why must we always destroy beauty? Why kill another creature because it is not in our image?GERRILL: Kill her! It is the law. All norms must die. They are our enemies. And if you won't, I will.

Dr. Who "Genesis of the Daleks" Original Airdate on BBC television: March 8, 1975 / image from the BBC 

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Coming Out Stories: Inspired By a Quotation From the Documentary Paris is Burning, I Write about Growing Up Gay in Louisiana

Paris is Burning © 1990—a documentary about the gay ballroom scene in New York City.

N.B. This post is about growing up gay; and as such, it deals with content that some may find offensive. I know there is a lot of heat about the Tayler Swift Song "You Need to Calm Down" - but I will say to my possible haters: "You are somebody that I don't know / But you're taking shots at me like its Patron." And I don't even drink Patron!

     I am a slow learner. Growing up gay in South Louisiana in the early 1990s I had no idea there was a subculture just for me. I could have had a family. I could have been like the fem boys and the drag sisters and mothers of the street. I could have jumped on the Greyhound bus in Mandeville, Louisiana and landed as a street kid in New York City. However, as a twelve-year-old kid who had a semblance of his own gayness, I did not come out to my friends as gay until I was seventeen years old (which is an entirely different story) - and I was not out to any of my family members until way later in life (when I was in my 20s and 30s). I remember my mom asked me when I was about sixteen if I were gay and I flat-out said: "No, Mom." I did not have to think about it. I was not ready to go down that road. I think I had a deep sense of secrecy because I had internalized that my gayness was not something to share. It was a part of me but it was not something I wanted other people to know. And as the kids in Jennie Livingston's documentary Paris is Burning attest to - coming out as gay was not a safe option - even for the ballroom kids. In fact, it was the rejection of their gayness that led the ballroom kids to ascend on New York City's underground club scene in the first place where they ineluctably formed their own version of families (called "houses").

     I recently watched the documentary (which I am ashamed to say was my first viewing). I had only seen clips on Youtube and had listened to Ru Paul Charles preach about the film on her cable TV reality show Ru Paul's Drag Race  - which has gathered a lot of its aesthetic and jolt from the ballroom culture. Ru Paul rightfully references the show on her show - and I think she sees it as "a peering into" the world of drag culture that perhaps not many people are privy to. I could have used the truth of Paris is Burning growing up. I am sure my story is not unique. Growing up in the suburbs - which the filmmaker Xavier Dolan once said was "the place where dreams and ambitions go to die" - I wanted something more than "this provincial life." Thank you, Belle. Little did you know that as a gay kid Disney's animated bibliophilic French country girl was my hero. When you are gay - and you do not have a lot of representation in movies and on television - you go and find it; you make it; you see it in the subtext - which is probably why gay folk are really good at reading between the lines (and why some of us have made a name for ourselves in literary theory). Looking back on it I was crafty as a kid. I consumed gay identity - but I did it covertly and I was careful about learning how to be gay. I think I failed because when I went to my twenty-year high school reunion no one was surprised; I realize now that the superlative I received in the yearbook for "most friendly" was actually a substitute for "most gay." In the 90s there were emerging examples of gay representation but you had to look for it. I did buy a copy of XY magazine at the newsstand (I had to go in the back and look behind the Playgirls; but I found it - and I was internally satisfied by the magazine's outright celebration of gay male beauty. As a way of marking my gay desire, I did cut out my favorite pin-ups and pasted them in my notebook (that is a true story). I also hunted the shelves of the local public library for gay-themed books. I stumbled upon a copy of Gore Vidal's The City and the Pillar and read its frank discussion of surreptitious male desire and came to understand that homosexual desire was not only universal (not just tacked on to my identity) but something that existed and has existed for a long time and in different civilizations and dispensations.

    I say I am a slow learner because I have accumulated gay culture in drips and drabs. In 1996 I discovered the musical Rent - and I listened to it with my friend Jonathan like a billion times - along with tracks from Tori Amos's album Under the Pink and Crash Test Dummies. As a teenager, I was a theater kid. Being involved in community and school theater helped me to form my first sense of belonging. It was the closest I got to the ballroom scene as a kid. Not to say I was out in the small theater world I participated in (nor were any of my friends). We were the kids who did not do sports, were not especially interested in academic accolades, and we just wanted a space to hang out, to be on stage, to work together and to put on plays. My closest friends were straight boys and girls; and very rarely did sexuality ever come up in conversation; I never had a gay friend or lover in high school, and, as an adult, I was surprised when someone I knew in high school had come out as gay as an adult. Austin, for example, was a shy kid in my Seventh Grade American history class; his father was the vice principal of the school; he made excellent grades and he was intelligent and well-spoken; however, I don't think we ever socialized. Ever. Why didn't we connect as kids? Being gay is not an immediate reason to become besties, apparently. I had heard on Facebook that he had come out in college and he was, according to a mutual friend, very gay.