full house

Scotland has seven bishops — for the first time in a long time.

+Mark Strange was made bishop of Moray, Ross, and Caithness today, amidst much hope and expectation.

Official information is here.

Presumably there are juicer accounts by the Youth Network somewhere. Does the Youth Network really not have a blog? Or do they have trendier modes of communication?

17 thoughts on “full house”

  1. Thanks for that. Of course, I have no idea what’s on the other end of the link. I started to sign up for Facebook out of curiousity, and gave up half way through because I was tired of handing over personal information and making up screen names.

    The PYN offers more incentive to join than anything else I’ve encountered.

    Does anyone care to convince me that I actually need to do it?

  2. You need it, but I don’t have the words to explain why. It took me quite a while after signing up for it to get it sorted in my head.

    I tried Second Life, which is where Christine is at just now, and whilst I understood it, I couldn’t be bothered.

    However, Facebook is where the people are and they are known by their own names.

  3. Kimberly, those are major theological questions….but rather a pragmatic and instrumental approach…have you thought of transcending the reasonable, ‘what is it all for?’, to something more spiritual…like ‘can one join the cyber collective consciousness’?

    Personally I still think telepathy is easier.

  4. Hmm. If all facebook can offer is the sock wearing habits of clergy, I might not need to know…

    Vicky’s line on collective consciousness is more persuasive.

  5. But purple sock, no less! Sounds like the best reason I’ve heard and is truly tempting. Alas, in my initial forays into Facebook I managed to establish TWO accounts (by accident) and now have a hopelessly divided cyber consciouness.

  6. Now you see, Elizabeth has landed on the problem.

    Just last night, I was regreting my refusal to join LiveJournal because I wanted to comment on a certain post about water fountains. But I resisted because half the time I can’t comment on locked blogs that ask for unser-names that I already have, since I get the names and passwords all confused.

    If I can’t handle four wordpress accounts, three email addresses, two google accounts, and yahoo, what hope is there for me now that the world is moving on the Live Journal and Facebook? (and this is just my first life, remember.)

    I may relent and join Facebook. But I promise I shall never be tempted by purple socks.

  7. Why not use the same name and password for your entire life other than your bank account? It makes things simpler. If you’re on Facebook it means you don’t have to tell everyone what you’re up to – they all see it on your updates. And besides, all the very best people are there…

  8. OK. I’ve joined. I’ve looked around. And now I really see no need.

    I got as far as thinking ‘oh, Fred’s in San Francisco now… I wonder if that’s so-and-so from my Hardy seminar… Hmm, I don’t want to find her again…Well it seems he still hasn’t grown up…’ and then gave up.

  9. Well, since you’ve finally joined, perhaps someone will get you purple socks for Christmas.

    I joined Google so as to comment on a friend’s blog, and now I can’t remember my username and password, and none of the obvious combinations work, so I’ve just given up. Never mind even thinking of Facebook. I still have the hotmail account a student helped me set up in 1996! A different sort of simplicity of life. (-:

  10. The fact that someone can ask if I like scrabble is high praise indeed for the Firefox spell-checker.

    Though I find it slightly more amiable now that I can say, ‘oh, sorry. That must be the American/ British spelling’ (delete as appropriate).

    I like Set. Anyone?

  11. OK, suddenly I see.

    I gave up last night without finding anyone I wanted to contact.

    Then someone I never expected to hear from in any format asked to be added to ‘my friends’ (this language is aweful. So second grade.)

    Do I have anything to say to him after 20 years? Who knows. Would I have expected him even to remember me as more that a fly in the background? Absolutely not.

    Vanity is a terrible thing, isn’t it?

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