lawrence dominic


“They kicked me to the head of the stairs, and stretched me over a guard-bench, pommelling me. Two knelt on my ankles, bearing down on the back of my knees, while two more twisted my wrists till they cracked, and then crushed them and my neck against the wood.

To keep my mind in control I numbered the blows, but after twenty lost count, and could feel only the shapeless weight of pain, not tearing claws, for which I had prepared, but a gradual cracking apart of my whole being by some too-great force whose waves rolled up my spine till they were pent within my brain, to clash terribly together.


After the corporal ceased, the men took up, very deliberately, giving me so many, and then an interval, during which they would squabble for the next turn, ease themselves, and play unspeakably with me


At last when I was completely broken they seemed satisfied. Somehow I found myself off the bench, lying on my back on the dirty floor, where I snuggled down, dazed, panting for breath, but vaguely comfortable. I had strung myself to learn all pain until I died, and no longer actor, but spectator, thought not to care how my body jerked and squealed.

I remembered the corporal kicking with his nailed boot to get me up; and this was true, for next day my right side was dark and lacerated, and a damaged rib made each breath stab me sharply. I remembered smiling idly at him, for a delicious warmth, probably sexual, was swelling through me: and then that he flung up his arm and hacked with the full length of his whip into my groin. This doubled me half-over, screaming, or, rather, trying impotently to scream, only shuddering through my open mouth. One giggled with amusement. A voice cried, ‘Shame, you’ve killed him’. Another slash followed. A roaring, and my eyes went black: while within me the core of Me seemed to heave slowly up through the rending nerves, expelled from its body by this last indescribable pang.

By the bruises perhaps they beat me further: but I next knew that I was being dragged about by two men, each disputing over a leg as though to split me apart: while a third man rode me astride. It was momently better than more flogging.

I was feeling very ill, as though some part of me had gone dead that night in Deraa, leaving me maimed, imperfect, half myself. It could not have been the defilement, for no one ever held the body in less honour than I did myself: probably it had been the breaking of the spirit by that frenzied nerve-shattering pain, which had degraded me to beast level when it made me grovel to it, and which had journeyed with me since, a fascinatiоn and terror and morbid desire, lascivious and vicious, perhaps, but like the striving of a moth towards its flame.”

-T.E. Lawrence, Seven Pillars of Wisdom (Chapter LXXX)


In over 30 years from now on you will be living your adult life. You will have kids and a husband and a job and your fangirl / fanboy time will be over. Of course you will remember how it was to be obsessed with all those actors, singers, bands, authors, you tubers but with your life style you won’t have time to really take a moment to think about all this.
Then one morning you’re driving home from work.
You put on the car radio and suddenly you hear the reporter mentioning the name of a certain actor, band member , author or any other celebrity who influenced your life in your teenange years.
You will think back to how you used to listen to their music, have a fan account for them, reblog every single post about them on tumblr. How you used to freak out when a new movie featuring them was about to come out, or their new book, how you were dreaming of meeting them. How they inspired you and helped you to find yourself.
And right when you are thinking about them a small smile spreads on your face and then you hear three words following their name. “Has passed away.”
And you just park your car in the nearest place and sit there in silence and take a moment till tears start streaming down your face, memories all that those people who played such a big role in your life left.


Shrine of St. Dominic

Saint Dominic died in Bologna, in the priory now named after him. The Friars had to move the relics of St Dominic in order to renovate and enlarge the church. A huge crowd assembled on this day in 1233. The Master of the Order, Blessed Jordan of Saxony convened a General Chapter to coincide with the event, and 300 friars attended. The Pope was unable to come but many bishops and priests joined civil dignitaries. Dominic had been buried for 12 years, so people worried that the remains would be dreadful, but when they raised the stone, a sweet perfume was noticeable. When the coffin emerged, the pleasant fragrance filled the church. The body of Saint Dominic hadn’t changed at all. People fell to their knees with tears of joy. Blessed Jordan placed the body in a new casket, and the smell remained for awhile on his hands and clothing. Three centuries later, the relics continued to exude this lovely scent. Moreover, at the time of the translation (moving of his relics) and afterward, many miracles and cures took place. St Dominic, therefore, was canonized in 1234, a year after the translation. Eventually, St Dominic’s relics came to be housed in this beautiful shrine in the church of San Domenico, renamed after him, in Bologna.

Photos: Fr. Lawrence Lew


Dominicans worldwide celebrate the 800th jubilee of the approval of the Order of Preachers (Nov. 7, 2015 until Jan. 21, 2017). The Dominicans are also known as the Hounds of the Lord because of a dream that St. Dominic’s mother had when she was pregnant with him. That is also the iconic symbol of the Dominican: a dog with a flaming torch in its mouth. St. Dominic’s mother dreamed of a dog that sets the fields on fire. Her spiritual director told her the dream meant “her son will set the world on fire with God’s love.”

Photos: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9  from @lawrenceop (Fr. Lawrence Lew)

Thank you God for St. Dominic and all the Dominicans!

DOMINIC: You better check your tech!

TOPHER: That’s enough! You’re in my house now. Of the two people here, one of us is a genius, and the other is a security guard in a very lovely suit.

DOMINIC: All right, genius, tell me why Echo would kidnap the girl you programmed her to protect and bring her to the man who’s trying to kill her?

TOPHER: Wow. That does sound kind of bad.

Dollhouse, “Stage Fright (1.3)