Category: John Samuel Tieman

Brother, Can You Spare A Salinger?

| Humor, John Samuel Tieman, Prose

When I travel, I am often struck by who makes it on to the local money. Recently, when I was in the Czech Republic, I saw John Amos Comenius on the 200 crown note. Comenius was an educational theorist and philosopher, someone I have long admired. When I lived in Mexico, the poet Juana Ines …

A Brief Essay on Love, Art, and Staring at a Woman’s Breast

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

There is a level in which we all stare, but it’s usually done surreptitiously. I know that I am perfectly capable of “checking-out” a woman at great length. I’ve even developed techniques to aid my endeavor. Scratch my forehead to cover my eyes. Hold the menu just high enough, so that it comes between her …

Why I’m Catholic

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

First, a confession. I am, after all, Catholic. I watch EWTN, the Catholic TV station. In any case, I was flipping through the channels, and came across a Mass on EWTN. It was being said by a Passionist. I have a fondness for Passionists, for their combination of the contemplative and the active. The guy …

A New Left?

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

I asked a buddy, a fellow social science teacher, his opinion about joining a third party. “Is there a reason for joining any party?” I’m not quite that skeptical, but I get it. I generally vote Democrat, but, were I a card carrying member, I’d resign. Folks call Barrack Obama “a socialist.” I want to …

On Catholic Anti-Semitism

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

Perhaps the greatest challenge for anyone religious is to consider The Answer, but hold off on The Rule. Not long ago, I wrote an essay about growing up Catholic. It was generally sentimental. Among other things, I wrote about the comfort I took from the Church during an emotionally turbulent childhood. Comfort. Stability. When I …

Reenactment: A War Story

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

A friend invited me to a Civil War reenactment. He was well meaning enough, although why he’d think I, a Vietnam veteran, would enjoy such a thing, who knows? Then he said, “It’s realistic.” To which I replied, “You want realistic? Here’s realistic. Fill their rifles with real bullets. But the blood and the gore, …

On Nothing: A Summer Essay

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

I love being alone. I love staring out my window at nothing, and sitting here thinking of nothing. This is an essay about nothing at all, an essay addressed to the whole world, which is to say no one in particular. The world is a nice, but you just can’t hang out with the world. …

Life in Missouri

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

Here, in Missouri, I live in a fairly liberal enclave within a larger, stupider state. I really should say a stupider state and a half, since southern Illinois is really us, and it’s the stupider half of that state. Even within relatively liberal St. Louis, I live in University City, the most liberal bit. We …