When I got to my room, I found that Janie was in there with her ironing board all set up and a huge pile of ironing she was working on. It looked like a bunch of men’s shirts, so I didn’t ask her about it because really I didn’t want to know. The Jesus-flavored pop music she was singing along to didn’t seem terribly conducive to appreciation of Shakespeare, so I just said hi and dropped off my things and took my copy of Hamlet to the study room at the end of the hall. Read the rest of the story »
Related Posts
Calling all ex-mormons: the Great Mormon Novel?
So, I’ve been reading a series of articles about the possibility of the Great Mormon Novel (the great fantasy of all Mormons since Chaim Potok came to the Jewish scene or since we all fell in love with that dairyman Tevye and his daughter)…some say that the Great Mormon Novel…
Love, Mormon Style
by Bob Bringhurst Harlan Poke liked MTV. When he wasn’t studying accounting, when he wasn’t avoiding his five roommates who shared his Raintree apartment, when he wasn’t hunting for a wife at BYU dances, he watched MTV. MTV shows beautiful women in taunting poses. These poses caused Harlan’s hormones to…
Interesting Jewish/Mormon story in the New Yorker!
I’m sure I don’t have to tell you guys how much the Mormons love to compare themselves with the Jews (or, if you do need a hint, read this post). This comparison is usually kind of one-sided — Mormons love to contemplate the parallels, and the Jews are (usually) blissfully…