Yesterday's Pipe Club went pretty well. I had forgotten my pipe, so Blake lent me one of his own. "A hobbit pipe," someone said upon observing it. We smoked good weed (in the Tolkien-esque way) and shared great conversation about Christianity, the nature of choice and responsibility, and the failure of the modern church to encapsulate what the gospel is all about, what church is all about. After we smoked our pipes, we went down to The Sunset Pub (a hole-in-the-wall Price Hill bar) and we got beers and some bourbon and chatted with the bartender, who had graduated from C.C.U. the year I started; and Mandy and Amanda joined us and we sat at a table as people tricked in and drank our beers and smoked some cigarettes and had a great time with much laughter. I do love going down to Cincinnati and seeing people, and I relish the conversations we have; and the conversation we had will spawn several upcoming contemplative posts about various things. Blake and I are "textbook-overthinkers", and I think that is a good thing. The art of study is something I've preserved since graduation, and it's a discipline I want to keep intact throughout the rest of my life. Yet in the words of Straylight Run, "The more I learn, the more I don't understand." But I guess that's the nature of the thing: once you begin peeling away the surface layers of something, observing it from various angles, you probe deeper and deeper into the thing itself, and it surrounds you and encompasses you and suffocates you until you don't know your right from left and your up from down. Here is a picture of me and Blake at the pub:
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