Chapter 9

nice bootie or bootay depending on preference :-)

If the Boston Red Sox were in playoff contention right now, you would have been subjected to another long post this week celebrating the joys of American baseball. Sadly, the Sox had a disappointing season this year so we can skip all that verbiage.

But at least their season is ending on a positive note unlike the Washington Nationals, whose season is ending with a dickhead manager named Matt Williams making a complete ass of himself because he has less sense in his entire body than my dick has in its head!

Indeed, for a baseball fan like me the only thing left to root for is the imminent demise of the New York Yankees, a team so base and depraved it sued for the exclusive right to be called the evil empire. Sued and won I should note!

“In short, the record shows that there is only one Evil Empire in baseball and it is the New York Yankees,” wrote the judges. “Accordingly, we find that [the Yankees] have a protectable trademark right in the term . . . as used in connection with baseball.”

So there you have it, people; of this there can be no doubt. The New York Yankees are indeed the evil empire and worthy of your contempt and hatred! Whereas the Washington Nationals are just a pathetic imitation of a well-managed baseball team.

Of course, not having baseball to celebrate this week meant I needed to find something else to celebrate; something in red as my little tribute to Beantown’s favorite team. So that’s how we ended up with that image above.

In case you’re wondering, I did indeed consider a red sock, but I’m not the world’s biggest foot worshiper. Don’t get me wrong; I love foot play as much as anyone else, but let’s face it. Other parts of the male anatomy definitely have priority.

The door was the clincher for me. I would be happy to open that door for that fine young man; wouldn’t you? And don’t ask which door I’m talking about :-)

Be that as it may, we learned about some of the pressures Holden is experiencing in last week’s chapter, but he’s not the only one feeling pressure so we’ll pick up our story at the end of Friday with Sean making his way home.

I’ve posted Chapter 9, which is narrated by Sean. It’s another long one, but have fun reading and be sure to let me know what you think.

Chapter 8

Robinson Hall

Rarely do I ask readers to think about what I write. Stories are typically read for the pleasure they provide, not to learn the difference between the right and wrong way of doing things in life (although a well crafted story may do that). But this week I hope you’ll read this lengthy posting and then think about it as you read Chapter 8.

If last week’s chapter marked the informal end of Part I, Chapter 8 represents the beginning of Part II. It’ll be narrated by Holden and may allow us to get to know a bit more about him; after all, life doesn’t come to a screeching halt just because we’ve met someone who’s captured our fancy.

It’s also a longer chapter, but one I hope you’ll enjoy. To set the stage, it’s the morning after Sean’s decision to spend a second night at Holden’s room in Wigglesworth Hall. It was an uneventful night. The boys slept in separate bedrooms and Sean was up early the next morning to go to work. We’ll catch up with him in Chapter 9.

By the way, I should probably mention I’ve buried a little joke within the chapter, two actually (although I’ve connected them); jokes you’re only likely to recognize if you’re familiar with Harvard (as I’ve now become). I kept thinking I needed to remove them, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

As the saying goes, it is what it is; and don’t worry if you don’t recognize them. There’s no reason you should and they’re not critical to the story in any way.

Much of tonight’s chapter takes place inside Robinson Hall, which is currently home to Harvard’s history department. Not surprisingly, that’s a picture of Robinson Hall up above. Like most buildings in Harvard Yard, it’s an interesting one. Sadly, that small image hardly does justice to it. But if you click on the image you’ll be able to access a much larger version.

If you do that, check out the plaque dedicating the building to the memory of Nelson Robinson, Jr., above the front door. Apparently the building was a gift to Harvard from his parents. Try as I might, I wasn’t able to find out very much about young Nelson except that he was shy and a member of the Class of 1900 who had been interested in architectural design and landscape architecture.

Sadly, as you can see from the plaque, he apparently did not live to graduate with his class.

Death at a young age is always hard; being forgotten harder still. But Nelson does have a building named after him even if it’s one of the more obscure buildings in Harvard Yard. Tucked into the northeast corner, it was the home of the Graduate School of Design until 1972. Hence the word ARCHITECTURE at the top of that enlarged image I pointed you to above.

As mentioned, the building is now occupied by the History Department. The Department says it’s home to about 100 to 130 graduate students and another 150 to 200 undergraduate concentrators (that’s Harvard speak for majors); apparently not all that welcoming a home if you’re an undergraduate, however, as we’ll learn soon enough.

By the way, notice the two griffons that flank the door of Robinson Hall, one of which you can view much better by clicking this link. What’s a griffon (or griffin or gryphon depending on preference) you may ask?

Good question; apparently it’s a legendary mythical animal with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion, and the head, wings, and talons of an eagle. Some, but not all, authorities claim that griffons are also part dragon. Not being an expert in such things, I don’t feel competent to settle the issue and will leave that to others more knowledgeable than me. But for sure griffons are part lion and eagle.

Because the lion is traditionally considered the king of beasts and the eagle the king of birds, the griffon is thought to be an especially powerful and majestic creature. Griffons are also known for guarding treasure and priceless possessions, which apparently include the library/lounge in Robinson Hall.

Access to that library/lounge is apparently priceless indeed. I know that because it was suddenly closed to undergraduate students in 2014. At that time, a sign reading “this lounge is reserved for graduate students only” was placed at the library entrance, at least if an article in the Harvard Crimson is to be believed.

How gauche is that?

The explanation given by one Cristina V. Groeger, a representative of the Henry Adams Society, which is apparently the History Department’s graduate student organization, was somewhat less than compelling in my humble opinion.

“My sense is that undergraduates didn’t really use the space much,” Ms. Groeger is quoted as saying by the Crimson.

Really, Ms. Groeger, your sense? That’s what you and others relied on in deciding to close a portion of the facility you share to undergraduates? You made no inquiries about the matter among the undergraduate history concentrators? You just relied on your sense; is that it?

Or perhaps your lack of sense; I mean, good God, your arrogance is suffocating, Ms. Groeger, at least in my humble opinion.

Having learned about this unfortunate incident, I was not surprised in the least to also learn that a History Department that enrolls students like Ms. Groeger would only rank fourth best in the United States after Princeton, The University of California at Berkeley, and, GASP, Yale! That’s according to U.S. News & World Report.

Indeed, Harvard is not even the undisputed fourth best history department in the nation. It has to share that lowly ranking with Stanford and the University of Chicago.

Of course, would be defenders of the Department might point to a USA Today survey that ranks it number two (still below, GASP, Yale, it should be noted). But other surveys rate the department much lower still; not even in the top ten for that matter.

But that isn’t surprising, of course, when you have a priss like Ms. Groeger sensing things rather than doing enough actual research to determine that undergraduates weren’t using the library/lounge and did not want to use it. Indeed, it confirms my worse suspicions about Henry James, who appears to have been something of a racist and anti-immigrant xenophobe and a closeted homosexual to boot all his life.

Some question just how closeted he was; but, as Donald Trump would say, look at that face! Would any of you have slept with Henry James except under the most extraordinary duress if you were on the receiving end of one of his little mash notes?

If James was indeed celibate all his life, as I suspect, his celibacy seems to have turned him into something of a male priss. Is it any surprise Ms. Groeger should emulate her hero in being that way? By the way, in a moment of generosity, Ms. Groeger did allow that “undergrads can still use the non-circulating books in the Lounge, but the understanding is that the space is for grad students primarily.”

How very generous of you, Ms. Groeger; how very territorial and welcoming. By the way, who died and made you the arbiter of these things? More to the point, where the hell is the adult supervision in the History Department to allow such an outrage?

Ah, but there’s the rub I suspect. I may have been too harsh on Ms. Groeger. As the saying goes, the fish rots from the head.

Perhaps I’m making too much of this unfortunate incident. It’s just that I found the whole thing terribly upsetting in light of tonight’s chapter where I draw a much more sympathetic portrait of at least one fictional member of the History Department. Be assured I was totally unaware of Ms. Groeger and the actual members of the Department before I wrote the chapter.

More importantly, and the reason why I have gone on about this at some length, is that I want to encourage you as readers to contrast the figure portrayed in this chapter with Ms. Groeger, a graduate student and would be teacher presumably.

Who would you prefer as an adviser or teacher in college? Truth be told, Ms. Groeger is merely a symbol of just about everything wrong with American higher education these days.

She and too many of her fellow graduate students only seem interested in looking up to their so-called mentors, not down to their younger charges. Apparently, they totally lack any interest in, or curiosity about, the undergraduates they may be teaching some day; to have no interest at all in mingling with them.

What can you expect from graduate students like this? Not very much good, I fear.

In any event, Chapter 8 is up. Have fun reading and be sure to let me know how you feel about the chapter or even Ms. Groeger for that matter.

Site & Gallery Updates

are those killer eyes or what?

Take a peek under the sheets as I’ve made a few changes around the joint this evening, including updating my About page to reflect the existence of the Galleries among other things. I also updated the Galleries themselves while I was at it.

Each of them now has fifty-five images carefully chosen from among the blog and chapter postings I’ve made over the last four years. And the best part is they’re only to get better in the future

How to comment

I wanted to say a couple (hundred) words about commenting in this post because I suspect some of you may not be doing so for two reasons. How to do so may be confusing you; or you may be concerned your information will be abused.

While the commenting system WordPress uses is not especially intuitive, it’s not that complicated either if you want to comment but just aren’t sure how. For example, if you click on that Leave a comment link at the top of this post, you should be taken to the spot where you’re invited to leave a reply. Start typing a reply and still more boxes appear that give you some choices.

You can click on one of the icons for WordPress, Facebook, Twitter, or Google to log in to those sites and use information you may have shared with them. I don’t see any advantage to doing that, but there may be. If someone can think of a reason, let me know.

Alternatively, you can fill in an e-mail address and a name. The website box is optional and does not need to be filled in. After that you just click on the Post Comment button. You should then see the message you’ve written along with a comment that your message is awaiting moderation.

That just means your comment is waiting for me to approve it. I try to approve them the same day if possible, usually with a response from me. But it may take a bit longer on some occasions.

There have only been a very few occasions where I have not approved a comment. The most recent was when someone tried to use the comments to link to some right-wing wacko bird video that would have explained to you how Calvin Coolidge was really a better President than Franklin D. Roosevelt, among other things.

As I told the fellow, this is my site and I’m not prepared to let it become part of the right-wing propaganda machine that’s damaged American so greatly. Having said that, you can count on one hand the number of people whose comments have not been approved by me.

Like Holden, I’m easy :-)

Now that I’ve explained the process, let me add a few other words. Some of you may not be commenting because you’re concerned (as you should be) about divulging information on the internet. Here’s what I can tell you I know about that.

As for me, I don’t collect any personal information about you if you post a comment. If you provide an e-mail address, I won’t sell it to anyone or use it to spam you with tons of e-mails and your e-mail address will NOT be published as part of your comment.

I will probably add you to my mailing list if I remember (unless you ask me not to or later decide you’d prefer not to be on it and ask to be removed, which I will gladly but sadly do). But I only use that list to announce new stories so I haven’t been bombarding people with lots of e-mails.

I can’t be absolutely certain whether WordPress is collecting information on you and what they might do with it if they are. If that concerns you, you can provide a fake e-mail address as far as I’m concerned. Just be aware that I won’t be able to be in touch with you in that case.

From my point of view, you can also provide a fake name (and I would encourage you to only provide a first name in any event).

I would prefer that you not use Anonymous as a fake name because multiple people could use that, which would complicate things; whereas using something unique like Joe69 helps me to know that you may have posted before using that same nym.

Get your freaking mind out of the gutter, Kit; that’s Joe 690 you pervert :-)

Finally, and most important of all, I really like getting comments, even critical ones. That’s assuming they’re not malicious and I did have one person commenting at one time who was being malicious. But that’s one out of hundreds who’ve commented.

Comments help me understand what you’re thinking. If you think the story is moving too slowly or that I’ve contradicted myself or whatever, let me know. I may or may not agree, but hopefully we’re all adults and can have an adult conversation about things.

The other point I would make is that I love my characters, at least most of them. Your comments help me understand how they’re coming across to you and that’s important for a writer.

Finally, as I’ve said before, I can’t get better as a writer without people talking to me. Commenting is one way of doing that. E-mailing me is another way.

I’m happy with whatever works best for you and I know I’ve made some good friends this way. I’d like you to become one too.

Chapter 7

what is the boy in red thinking?

Some wrestling imagery seemed appropriate for this latest installment of our story, partly for reasons that will become evident soon enough but also because Sean seems to have been wrestling with himself quite a bit these last few chapters.

Indeed, Sean and Holden seem to have been wrestling in some ways as well although neither seems to have achieved the upper hand in their little match. That’s probably a good thing I suspect.

Finding a good wrestling image proved difficult, however. It turns out that high school wrestlers grimace a lot as they go about the task and grimacing is hardly ever aesthetically pleasing. They also seem to end up in some incredibly odd positions which, while occasionally interesting and perhaps even revealing, were not what I was looking for.

In the end, I searched the internet far and wide trying to find a compelling image. I looked at sculptures of wrestlers, both small and large. I looked at marble wrestlers and bronze wrestlers, wrestlers who were upside down and heels over head, but eventually settled on the image of the two wrestlers you see above.

While probably not entirely satisfactory, there was something about the look on the face of that boy in red that kept drawing me back to the image. Is he tired; resigned to defeat; planning his next move? Your guess is as good as mine.

Tonight’s chapter marks the unofficial end of Part I of The Opened Door. I had actually planned to make the division official, but forgot to do so initially and then it became too much of a hassle to fix my mistake. But take my word for it. The story does have two parts and Chapter 7 is the last in Part I.

It’s also a bit shorter than most of the rest, but hopefully these first seven chapters have collectively laid a good foundation for what comes next.

There weren’t too many comments or e-mails about the last chapter so I could be wrong, but apparently most of you missed the surprise hidden in that chapter. I won’t fill you in for now, but perhaps next week’s chapter will prove a better reminder.

In any event, it’s been another insanely busy week for me working on future stories so I had little time for any internet research other than my search for the right two wrestlers.

However, the good news is I’m feeling excited about the stories I’ve been working on; or, to put it another way, I haven’t experienced some of the agonies associated with this story so hopefully that’s a positive sign.

I still have a ways to go, however, so hold your breath. I could still manage to screw things up in the next couple of weeks. If not, you’ll start to see some of the fruits of my labor pretty soon.

Chapter 7 is up. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, feel free to let me know by posting a comment or sending an e-mail. As I mentioned to one person who commented on the last chapter, comments are like hugs for the author.

Depending on how you envision me, of course, that may or may not be a good thing :-)

Chapter 6

pensive but cute

I was busy this week working on the next two stories I plan to share with you, one of which will likely run simultaneously with The Opened Door later this year if all goes well. This is the American way after all. Buy one, get one free!

In any event, I did manage to do a lot of writing this week, most of it pretty good I think although you may beg to differ when I get around to posting the stories online.

The point is I was writing and didn’t have time to do my internet research for the week; and it was a short week in any event given the Labor Day weekend. Labor Day is a holiday we celebrate in America where we prove how hard working we are by taking an extra day off to relax or buy stuff.

It’s not one of the more popular of our holidays because it traditionally signals the end of summer; and also because it celebrates unions and the labor movement, neither of which Americans are especially fond of these days. In America we love to think everything we’ve accomplished in life is because of our own hard work.

God forbid we give any credit to the collective efforts of working men and women. Indeed, I kind of expect we’ll be changing the name of the holiday pretty soon to Entrepreneur Day or, better still, Capitalism Day, so we can celebrate those captains of industry who have done so much for America; like giving us ever increasing income inequality.

The point is it was a short work week in America as we prepared for the weekend; and since tonight’s chapter takes place inside Wigglesworth Hall again in any event and there was no obvious landmark or building to research, I was left with a dilemma. What image should I share with you this week?

The obvious choices were pizza, which is central to this evening’s chapter, or that picture up there of me sitting in my alcove scribbling away on my next stories.

Hmmm, Kit . . . pizza or me; pizza or me. Which do you think your readers would prefer?

Not that I actually have an alcove, of course; and I believe I may be the only person in the whole world who doesn’t drink coffee since I’m already much too wired. And usually I try to avoid looking pensive like that, of course. I don’t do pensive well. But other than that I suppose that could be a picture of me hard at work.

By the way, that image really does look much better in the larger version, which you can access by clicking on it; although that young man definitely needs a good moisturizer for his skin :-)

And if you prefer pizza to me after looking at the larger image and are reading this at The Annex, feel free to grab a slice from that image in the Gallery to your right. I would avoid the Cracker Jack bag though; that stuff can be hard on your teeth.

There are some fresh tomatoes and apples waiting for you in the Gallery if you’re reading this at the Café, but neither of those have anything to with tonight’s chapter as far as I know.

The point is that I don’t have any good gossip to share with you this week about Harvard so that’s how you ended up with that image above. He’s a fine looking lad and I’m sure he’ll eventually make his way to one of the Galleries.

Having said all of this, you may recall Sean was attempting to say good-bye at the end of the last chapter so he could go home. But Holden, being enterprising and knowing everyone in America loves free food, took advantage of Sean’s hunger and offered to buy a pizza for the two of them.

Given the choice between free food and being nagged by his mother, what do you think young Sean will do? But even if you suspect you already know the answer, you may still want to read the chapter because who knows? There might be a surprise buried somewhere in there for those of you who’ve read my other stories; or, then again, maybe not :-)

The only way you’ll ever find out for sure is by reading the next chapter, which is now up; and feel free to share your reaction to this week’s turn of events by commenting at the end of the chapter or sending me an e-mail.

Galleries Updated

He's back :-)

I’ve updated the Galleries at both The Café and The Annex with seven new images, different on each of the sites. At The Annex Gallery this includes one of my own favorites, Josh’s goat (shown above) from Connected. Your task, if you choose to accept it, is to see whether you can find the new images.

By the way, please feel free to comment on these images as you view them if you wish to. I probably will not respond to those comments, but I will moderate them and will not approve any I consider lewd or otherwise inappropriate.

I may even add my own comment occasionally, as I have done on the two images (one in each Gallery) of illustrations by Norman Rockwell.

Have a nice Labor Day weekend. I certainly plan to do so now that I’ve finished this post.

Chapter 5

Where food goes to die :-)

Here I am again, dear reader, back with another week’s worth of internet research; and contrary to what some may believe, that image above is NOT the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the fictional British magic school of Harry Potter fame. It’s actually a picture of Annenberg Hall, which serves the more mundane purpose of feeding Harvard freshmen.

Perhaps that explains why J.K. Rowling has sold millions of copies of her books while my own, illustrated with less enchanting images like this, have sold somewhat fewer. Whatever the case, feel free to click the image above (or most images for that matter) for a larger view if you’re interested.

I chose this particular image because Annenberg will make a brief verbal entrance in tonight’s chapter; to be followed later, I believe, by another more substantive appearance or two if I recall correctly. But I could be wrong about that so don’t hold me to it.

I should also note that Annenberg is part of Memorial Hall, a place made famous by Henry James in The American Scene as “the great bristling brick Valhalla …. that house … which … dispenses … laurels to the dead and dinners to the living.”

Less poetically, Memorial Hall is a massive structure that, among other things, commemorates the lives of the 126 Harvard alumni who fell fighting to preserve the Union during the Civil War. It does so in a portion of the facility known as the Memorial Transept, which you can read about here. The 71 Harvard graduates who died fighting for the Confederacy are not similarly memorialized; an issue still debated to this day.

In addition to Annenberg and the Memorial Transept, Memorial Hall also houses Sanders Theatre, home to several choir and orchestral groups and a venue for many professional performance ensembles, and Loker Commons.

Loker offers a student pub, music practice spaces, and classroom and administrative offices. By the way, that infamous statue of John Harvard was originally housed on the west side of Memorial Hall. It was only moved to its current location inside the Yard in 1924, allegedly because he couldn’t stand all the smells emanating from Memorial Hall any longer.

Whew! Even with all the research I do, I’m beginning to get confused by all this worthless detail. But what can I say? Although Memorial Hall is an impressive building, it’s also confusing. And yet, dedicated in 1874, its high ceilings, wood paneling, and stained glass windows make it impressive enough to be fit for Hogwarts’ finest witches and wizards.

By the way, take a good look at that image above as Annenberg is one of the few places not open to the general public at Harvard. I had to sneak in to take that picture for you; and if you believe that, I also have a bridge to sell.

As noted, Annenberg is the dining hall for Harvard freshman, serving about 3400 meals each day. As one might expect, there is some debate regarding the quality of the food served. A 2006 Harvard Crimson article called it the place “where food goes to die.” Others dispute this, however.

One thing I was able to discover during my research is that Harvard’s dining hall charged the grand sum of $3.97 for a month’s worth of meals back in 1884. Isn’t it amazing what you can find on the internet if you search hard enough?

But, then again, not all internet facts are real facts are they, especially when taken out of context like some people mindlessly do? They’re just faux facts; things thrown up by people who are brain dead to defend their prejudices and stupidity.

Whatever the case, none of what I’ve posted so far will be tested on the quiz I plan to administer after you’ve read tonight’s chapter. You should feel free to promptly forget everything I’ve just reported.

As you’ll recall from last week, however, Sean spent the night with Holden at Wigglesworth (although he definitely did not get his wiggles worth by doing so). When last seen, Sean was at the kiosk in Harvard Square about to start still another day that will prove both interesting and eventful.

In order to find out how eventful, though, you’ll have to read tonight’s chapter and the two that follow. Have fun reading and be sure to let me know what you think.


let's hope he's spied someone skinny dipping :-)

As you know, I like to break up the text at my web sites with images like the one above. It makes things less boring for one thing; in addition, sometimes images illustrate something about one of the story chapters I’ve published or the point I’m trying to make in one of my blog postings.

I’ve been doing this I started these sites back in 2011 so I’ve posted a lot of images over the years. Recently I discovered WordPress includes a feature that allows you to post images in galleries you can include in the sidebar to the right.

I’ve decided to test that out on both of my sites. Keep in mind The Café Palermo is primarily a blog, one that talks about issues relevant to the LGBTQ community or political issues that affect Americans more broadly. The Annex is the site where I post my stories.

In short, the important thing to me on these sites are the words, not the images. But I put a lot of time into finding the right images so I figured I see whether the galleries add anything to the overall experience.

Not all of the images in the galleries may have headlined a post. I’ve often tested multiple images before selecting one. I’ve included some of those as well; and I’ll try to make sure the images on the two sites don’t overlap. If the galleries work out, I’ll probably add to them in the future.

For now, if you have any views on this, feel free to comment or to send me an e-mail.

Chapter 4

doomed, all of us doomed :-)

Just to reassure everyone, the image above has little to do with tonight’s chapter. Neither Sean nor Holden are doomed, thank God! Otherwise our story would be over much sooner than planned. Since the chapter takes place mostly inside Wigglesworth Hall, however, it seemed only appropriate to share this image with you after completing my internet research this week.

By the way, consider the name Wigglesworth for a moment; is that a cool name or what? Wouldn’t you love to live in a dormitory named Wigglesworth if you were in college? Or better still to make passionate love to someone named Wigglesworth in Wigglesworth Hall for that matter?

Think about the possibilities; once you finished the deed, you could actually ask your partner whether he or she got their wiggles worth? Thanks for that, Dan!

As for the image, I just happened to be reading my copy of The Day of Doom before sitting down to write this post. Originally published in 1662, that’s a religious poem written by Michael Wigglesworth.

Not that Wigglesworth Hall is named after Michael Wigglesworth; it isn’t. From what I could learn doing my research, the place is named after Edward Wigglesworth; not just one Edward Wigglesworth but two of them, a father and son.

The father, apparently known to some as Doubting Wigglsworth for his more questioning religious views, was a member of the Class of 1710 while his son graduated from Harvard with the Class of 1749. Neither of those classes held reunions this year as best I could tell, but apparently the father and son lived for nearly seventy years on the site where the residence hall is now located.

So that’s how Wigglesworth Hall got its name.

By the way, the father was the first holder of the Hollis Chair of Divinity at Harvard, the oldest endowed chair in the United States, the first professorship in theology in the country, and considered to be the most prestigious endowed professorship in America in the early 19th century, at least if Wikipedia is to be believed. The father was appointed to the Chair in 1722, his son succeeding him in 1765.

Neither of these gentlemen apparently is noted for much else although they were, respectively, the son and grandson of Michael Wigglesworth, a much more interesting character in my humble opinion. Yale historian Edmund S. Morgan has characterized Michael Wigglesworth as a “morbid, humorless, selfish busybody;” someone who exemplifies all the negative stereotypes we have about Puritans.

Whether Morgan can be entirely trusted in this harsh judgment is hard to say because, although educated at Harvard, Morgan taught most of his life at Yale, perhaps best known as Harvard’s arch-rival and the loser of the last eight meetings between the Harvard and Yale football teams.

It can make one bitter.

As a totally irrelevant side note, Yale was apparently founded in 1701 “to counter Harvard’s drift from orthodox Calvinism” (at least if an article at is to be believed).

How about them apples! Bulldog, Bulldog, bow wow wow!

Quoted below is an especially lewd paragraph from Wikipedia about Michael Wigglesworth that seemed to me to be worth noting.

[Michael] Wigglesworth believed that he was essentially not worthy of believing in God as a result of merely being human. When he underwent a series of nocturnal emissions in his early life, he was thereafter convinced of his damnation. Through his diaries, he recounts his struggle to remain pure and good, despite continually relapsing into what he viewed as man’s natural depravity.

Omigod, the horror! Michael Wigglesworth apparently considered himself damned because he had wet dreams as a boy.

Shocking as that may be, it’s apparent Michael did find other outlets for his, uh, emissions as he did go on to father Edward Wigglesworth, who in turned fathered his own son, also named Edward, both discussed above; and although not relevant to anything else in this post, I should probably note the younger Edward also fathered a son named Edward Wigglesworth as well.

Sadly, however, none of the three were ever nicknamed Fast Eddie by the local girls , at least as far as I could find out on the internet.

Which is not to say Michael Wigglesworth didn’t have issues, of course. He did. Among many other things, he apparently lusted for some of his young male charges as a teacher at Harvard. If the link works, which is doubtful, you can find out more about this here; although, compared to Michael’s youthful emissions, the article I’ve linked to makes for rather, uh, dry reading.

If the link doesn’t work and you insist on knowing all the disgusting details, try googling The Curious Case of Michael Wigglesworth and you may be able to access the article.

Alas, you may also be disappointed as it seems Michael heroically managed to avoid doing anything nasty like bedding one of the young lads; much to their regret, perhaps, although Michael was definitely not the hottest dude in Cambridge from the images I’ve seen of him.

Whew! Is all of that interesting or what? You see the lengths I’ll go to provide you with worthless trivia about Harvard.

In any event, as you’ll recall, Sean eluded campus security last week by gaining entrance to Wigglesworth Hall and then being rescued by our story’s second main character, a student at Harvard College named Holden.

We learned a bit more about both Holden and Sean in that last chapter; and we’ll learn still more tonight. Whether it will be enough to keep you happy is hard to say. But, then again, as Michael Wigglesworth understood all too well, happiness can be a pretty elusive thing in life.

Don’t believe me? It’s all there in The Day of Doom, which describes a judgment day on which a vengeful God renders his decision on each of us, going into detail as to the various categories of people who think themselves excusable who will nonetheless end up in Hell.

Let’s hope you’re not one of them for reading or commenting on this chapter :-)


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