We have a verdict
Thanks for all the great suggestions about a title for a new blog. But I happened across a potential title this weekend that I'm really excited about. The title of my post from 2/13 reminded me that I'd seen that phrase somewhere else recently and I went looking through my email archives. Sure enough, I found three short words that explain in greater detail than I could with 50 posts where I am in my life right now. Here's the story:
A couple weeks ago I was emailing with a friend who I've known since college. We're really more "acquaintances" than "friends" now since our friendship mainly revolved around our mutual penchant for blowing our money on overpriced drinks downtown. One of the other things we had in common was our great distaste for religion, particularly Christians. We'd muster up our most condescending voices when talking about the "religious right" and "those family values people" and shared many laughs at the expense of Christianity. At one point we formed a close bond in our mutual horror and disgust that someone in our circle of friends had joined a church and wasn't interested in going out with us anymore.
In our recent email exchange I declined brunch plans on the grounds of going to Mass. (I would have loved to see the look on her face when she read that email). I got a quick reply asking who was pressuring me into going, my mom or my husband or what? I typed out a vague reply about just kind of, you know, sort of liking Mass a little bit every now and then. And then I deleted those words and wrote the truth: that I'm no longer an atheist and that the Catholic church is one of the best things that's ever happened to me. She replied with just three words, "Et tu, Jen?"
When I Googled the original Shakespearian phrase ("Et tu, Brute?") to make sure I understood its meaning I found an explanation that's so rife with symbolism that I immediately knew that it would be the title of my new site:
Perhaps the most famous three words uttered in literature, "Et tu, Brute?" (Even you, Brutus?) this expression has come down in history to mean the ultimate betrayal by one's closest friend. This scene, in which the conspirators in the Senate assassinate Caesar, is one of the most dramatic moments on the Shakespearean stage.
The audience has just witnessed the arrogance and hubris of a ruler who has sought, within a republic, to become a monarch, comparing himself to the gods. Brutus, a friend of Caesar and yet a man who loves Rome (and freedom) more, has joined the conspirators in the assassination, a betrayal which is captured by the three words above. [from eNotes.com]
I'd explain exactly why this is symbolic but I don't think Blogger has enough server space. Instead I'll just point you to my new site. To quote my atheist friend, "Et tu, Jen?"