Fountain of Joy

A short while ago my brother-in-law discovered the awesomeness of fountain pens. His personal story is below.


I just wanted to bear my personal testimony regarding fountain pens.

Until recently, I walked according to the ways of the Bic. I put a deathgrip on that white piece of plastic, and dragged it across the paper, all the while watching that inefficient little ball smear that goop, sometimes referred to as ink, across my page. Sometimes the ball would become fickle and leave a large blop of goop on the paper. Other times, it would stop rolling altogether, forcing me to etch word shaped indentations on the paper while I tried to get it writing again. By the time I got done writing something as long as, say, a blue book exam, my writing finger has a half-pipe sized indentation on it, and I had to soak it in Epsom salts just to get it working again for the next test.

Then one day, I watched Dr. C write effortlessly with an elegant piece of technology upon the margin of a book in Protestant Scholastics. I didn't think anything of it, but as I look back, I can see that the seed had been planted. I tried to ignore what I had seen. I was, in thewords of the Apostle Paul, "suppressing the truth in unrighteousness." Then one day Steve showed me his fountain pen. "Its a Parker 51," Steve told me. Steve reasoned with me. He forced me into an intellectual corner and showed me that if I didn't presuppose the existence of fountain pens, I wouldn't be able to prove anything. Ididn't have any response, but I wasn't about to submit myself to fountainpens. After all, Bic pens seemed reasonable in my own mind.

Well, one day I finally broke. I realized that all human reasoning was circular, and that I either had to choose fountain pens or autonomy. Another friend, Ted, told me that there was a wise sage who could teach me of a better life. "You mean my writing callous won't be bleeding and crusty after each blue book exam?" I asked. Ted answered,"Yes." When I knocked on Dr. B's office door, there was no hesitation. Dr. B saw my broken and empty demeanor. He saw the crusty writing callous and said, "Enter, my son, and let me instruct you in the way of wise writing." I held forth my shaky, bleeding hand, and into it, Dr. B inserted a late 50's Sheaffer Snorkel and a pad ofpaper. "Try this out," he urged.

I was speechless! Could this really be happening?! No longer was I dragging glops of sticky Bic ink over a piece of paper, I was gracefully allowing Sheaffer's Scrip to flow onto paper. Rather than watching a battle between paper and ball-point, I witnessed the elegant waltz of ink and nib. What a sight! It was as though the ink wanted to leave the pen and flow on to the paper! I asked Dr. B, "Is this for real?" He responded, "Andrew, why continue writing in a "soulish" (psukikon) fashion when you can write in a spiritual (pneumatikon) way? Forsake the error of your ways, and enter into the consummate reality that is theSheaffer Snorkel." I came forward - down the aisle of Dr. B's office. I laid my Bic on the alter, and walked out the proud owner of 2 Snorkels - one medium nib and one fine nib.

Since that day of my pen conversion, I have enjoyed writing with pens. Oh, I do use Bic pens at times, but only out of necessity. However, each time I exchange that Bic for one of my fountain pens, I am reminded of that wonderful day when I achieved the beatific vision of pens! So come, my brothers and sisters -- come to the ink well and allow your writing calluses to rest. Return to the golden age of history -- that age when the fountain pen ruled uncontested in all its glory! Each time you write, you will see the eschaton breaking into the present, and you will catch a brief glimpse of the way things are supposed to be!