The Epistle of Brother Alexander

It’s Matins in The North Spire of Solitude.

Brethren and Sistren,

Good Tidings! In my most recent epistle, I imparted to you my desire to replace you all with new, anthropomorphic animal-friends, but in recent weeks I have repented. Rather than replace you, I have chosen to retain you, in fact, but with a new stipulation: I shall no longer be able to actually see you, physically.

Because I have taken the holy orders.

Driven by my inability to procure an internship, I have found refuge in The Moste Secluded and Holy Monastery of Our Lady of Glade Street, and am currently residing there as a monk. I was tonsured only yesterday, and, already, I am becoming acclimated to a lifestyle of asceticism. But despite what you may have gleaned from Monty Python films, the monastery is not without its pleasures, and I have chosen to focus mine energies on its positive aspects: the rather forgiving brown habit, the simple, physical labor, the happy lack of stress, and the singing to wayward Austrian children are only a few of its moste blessed boons. And just last week, sister Mary-Silas permitted me to try on her wimple! If these are not enough to make a postulant out of you, consider my daily routines:

I arise at the moste early hour of 9:00 A.M. and immediately concoct a double espresso (you will remember, of course, the monks of Capuchin, for whom that heartbeat in a mug, the cappuccino, is named)*. While enjoying our avian choristers, who are ever chirping sacred melodies from the clerestory, I practice my daily devotions.

From the hours of ten thirty to one in the afternoon, I scribble away in the North Spire of Solitude, praying fervently to the patron saint of writer’s block. I drink often and deeply from the consecrated coffee pot, and mortify mine stubborn mind my standing on my head.

This is usually followed by lunch in the refectory, where, since I live in a monastery, no television is watched. I have certainly not, in the span of one month, watched two seasons of a television show concerned with the miraculous crime-solving abilities of a forensic anthropologist named for a Cardinal Virtue. This would be sinful, and would result in my expulsion from the order.

In the afternoon, mine earthly body is committed to chores (picking apples in the orchard, laundering our habits, giving last rites to the grass before cutting it) and errands. When my time is unencumbered, I am often reading books such as the moste holy novel “How To Buy a Love of Reading” by Saint Tanya Egan Gibson or the equally holy “The Patron Saint of Liars” by Saint Ann Patchett**. In the coming days I will fortify myself in order to reade Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, which, of course, is a moste evil book. I am only reading it in order to formulate strong arguments as to why it should be burned, not for any feelings of intense pleasure or happiness.

In the evenings, I am often meeting with and witnessing to my friends who inhabit the secular sphere. Occasionally, we attend movies together, so that I might point out the evils in said films. After viewing these movies, I retreat to the monastery for a time of intense meditation and prayer, wherein I implore Our Lord to cause accidents on the set of the upcoming Judd Apatow endeavor. Such evils must be stopped.***

All in all, monastic living has been agreeable to me. I send my love to mine sisters at The Moste Crowded New York Nunnery of the Holy Trifecta, and to mine lone brother at the Praise Be To Our Lord’s Moste Wondrous Mercies Monestary in Koreatown. I am sorry I am unable to join you in person, but, until I see you again, think of me in the cloister, and when you pass the fancy shops on Fifth Avenue.

Yours Moste Humbly,

Brother Alexander.

A Moste Necessary Addendum:

It is time we all began a second round of posting on this, our blog with the interrogative title. I do not wish to see you, brethren and sistren, two months from this date, and be forced to ask “What did you do this summer?” Better, I would rather simply say, “Did you bring me any of those delightful pastries you mentioned so often?” Blessings upon you, my children.

A Moste Helpful Set of Footnotes

* This is not a fabrication, but the light of truth!

** These novels are not holy in the least, nor were they written by saints, but they were both extremely enjoyable.

***I am moste serious in this point.