It was a long time ago that I arrived at the conclusion that our technology is listening, parsing and ultimately categorizing us by political categories for boxcars when the revolution comes.

I know this because the most obscure conversations in my home about abstractions–say hand-held leather punches–will result in my receipt of either an email about leather punch sales, or having saddle-making tools show up as ancillary advertisements in my social media.

I recently had some back and forth on my Facebook about Flannery O’Connor, my affinity for her writing, and the fascinatingly-short life she lived.

All of a sudden, my inbox has a gift in it.

Think Christian–a site that prides itself on nuanced spirituality, intellectual discourse within theological contexts, and sometimes outright extrapolatory aberrance, sends me regular emails.  The tag lines are usually provocative enough to draw me in sometimes, as long as they’re not hunting for upward worldviews in atrociously-abominable cinema. (I’ve thought long and hard about submitting an in-depth attempt at parallelism between Friday the 13th and how cowering in a lake cabin is just like the Passover, but I just don’t have it in me.  I wilt at rejection.)

Yesterday, they got me, and I don’t think Siri was the culprit, unless Siri sent an email to Karen Swallow Prior and told her to post “Flannery O’ Connor’s Grotesque Grace.”

I’ll just cut to the chase.  A new, rentable documentary is out, and I’m going to watch it.  Here’s the trailer.  Take note:  Famous people apparently like her work.  I appreciate that. What I don’t appreciate is having my comfort zones challenged with thinking Conan O’Brien is a deeper guy than I wanted to believe.  I’ll take the Mulligan: