The Day of Hobbits

Yesterday, I encountered hobbits, twice. The first incident was at the retirement party for the man who hired me here. During his going-away speech, he gave Bilbo’s going-away speech, which is, as follows: “I don’t know half of you as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”

Then, at home, the Redheaded Kid came over to watch the game and I made some joke about how his mother must think we’re a bad influence on him as he seems to be in the process of renouncing* the Catholic faith. He said that he told his mom we were like hobbits, in that we sit around and talk about things all the time.

That cracks me up.

* The Professor and I were once talking about a scholar she knows who’s renounced Marxism, which totally cracked me up. I was like, “Of course,” because who other than Marxists renounce anything? Everyone else just stops doing it, but Marxists (or ex-Marxists) renounce it. The Professor claims to have renounced Christianity and, if this is the case, I feel very cheated, as I have never been to a renunciation, and would like to go.

When I finally gave up on it (Christianity, not renouncing things), it was more like deciding not to go see that relative one can no longer stand. Nothing formal, just started being it less and less and then one day, I wasn’t any more.

But if I can talk the Professor into some kind of public renunciation of something–Christianity, Marxism, Aleister Crowley, cottage cheese, whatever–that’s going to be great. I wonder what one wears to a renouncing? Something vibrant, I bet.

If the Professor renounces a bunch of things, then I could renounce renouncing and we could have a public feud that fueled our respective fames, even as we privately continued to be friends.

See, this is why there are still Marxists and ex-Marxists; it’s so much fun.

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8 thoughts on “The Day of Hobbits

  1. First, of course one wears something vibrant to a renouncing. More specifically, something lamae or sequined is ideal. However, renunciations are often not public occasions, except if they happen in a book where one is trying to distance oneself from past positions. But dressing up to read a book, even one’s own book aloud, isn’t much of an event.
    Still, there seems to me to be a significant difference between going to church less and less, even never again and refusing to go because you take issue with much of what church stands for. To do something less and less is a negative move, whereas to renouce is a positive move (away from something).
    But, the next time I am in a position to renounce something I will make sure it is a public event and you have time to plan your costume.
    But I can promise you that it won’t be about cottage cheese. why would one renouce cottage cheese?

  2. I RENOUNCE COTTAGE CHEESE!!! That stuff is nasty, yo. Who wants to ingest something the texture of puss nodules? I mean, seriously folks.

  3. As the anonymous Anonymous points out, cottage cheese is, indeed, nasty. Cottage cheese is the slimy older brother of ricotta cheese–always trying to snap your bra in the hallway between classes. Ricotta drives a Cadillac, for the luxury and the irony. Cottage cheese is driving a rusted-out ’85 Camero with Judas Priest blaring. If anything needs renouncing, it’s cottage cheese.

    Sadly, SOME folks have started renoucing things (granted, deserving things) without giving me adequate warning, so I’m not wearing anything vibrant or sequined.

    Also, I think that dressing up to read your own book is pretty fucking awesome. I’d attend bookreadings like that.

    Meanwhile, dear Professor, I’ll concede that renouncing soemthing appears at first to be postive, while neglecting to do it anymore seems negative, but I think in the end, I end up in the better position, because I’ve had to expend almost no energy, whereas you are now in a position to have to defend your stand.

    Yes, I believe inherent laziness trumps philosophical integrity. I’d explain it in more detail, but I’m tired.

  4. “I believe inherent laziness trumps philosophical integrity.”

    The will be a chapter heading in my autobiography.

    I am still laughing from your description of cottage cheese.

    I am wearing something vibrant today (a fake-fur vest believe it or not; may be not vibrant but it is fabulous) and do hereby renounce super-pointy-toed shoes, thong underwear, whining, crushes on people at work and Satan.

    I think that’s more than enough renouncing for the day.

  5. I am in with the Shill on this one…I totally renounce pointy toed shoes. They are the worst. Nothing in the universe is worse.

    Oh…and Satan. Definately renouncing Satan.

    -SuperGenius

  6. Well, sure, renouncing Satan is easy enough, and renouncing thong underwear just makes good sense (someday we’re going to look back on that and say “Why did we wear something that, when we had no pants on, made our butts look so funny, and when we did have pants on, could have been easily achieved by just not wearing undearwear?”), but who’s going to renounce something tough, like Kellogg’s cereal?

  7. I discussed renunciations with Aunt B’s Conduit and he’s all for the act but doesn’t have anything to renounce because he’s just stopped doing those things which he doesn’t want to do anymore, well mostly. But by the end of Spinoza, we were thinking of renouncing “fear that rules our actions.” Even if we don’t let it go, we can at least try.

  8. I love my Conduit! I’m glad I picked a wise, if slow-acting, one. The best part is that no matter how lazy he is, I am lazier. I was considering taking some lovers (in honor of Bessie Smith), but I think now a better plan would be for my Conduit to take some lovers and just tell me about it–much less of a headache for me.

    “Fear that rules our actions.” That’s good. Not as pithy as “Marxism,” but good.

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