November 2003 Archives

Just got back from Pennsylvania. Traffic was horrific, so we peeled off at Breezewood (half an hour's wait just to get into the toll plaza leading to that graceful metropolis, so like Paris with its profusion of lights and fine cafes) and took the back roads through PA and Maryland, a route that took us through Emmitsburg (alas, no time for a pilgrimage, so we just said a rosary in the car.) I'm still not sure what flight from sanity led us to try the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

I may pop in for an occasional visit on a Sunday, but otherwise I'll see you after Christmas. Do drop me an email, if you feel like it. Have a blessed and fruitful Advent.

And, if I may....

Tomorrow, November 30, is a good day to start a novena for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception.

A suggested intention: over at his blog, dylan's mom says December 10 is going to be a key day for him.

Thank you, RC, for all your help with our new banner and purple template!

Just a few off the top of my head....

Thank You, Lord for...

my husband and our dear little boy
for our daily bread
for the roof over our head
for my husband's new job
for the little luxuries in our lives, including our computer
for the Sacraments
for our Holy Father, our bishops, and pastors
for the Saints and our Guardian Angels
for our family and friends
and for our St Blog's friends ('specially Pansy :) )
for a fun day today
for the opportunity to live near Washington DC and all its opportunities
for the ability to travel freely
for the expedient solution of Safeway's boxed Thanksgiving dinners

Today I have a really big day planned, including getting ready for our Thanksgiving trek to my mil's, so I may not get a chance to post again today. We're leaving first thing in the morning tomorrow and we'll probably be back on Saturday (avoiding the unbearable traffic on Sunday.)

I will be putting blogging (posting, reading, commenting) aside for the duration of Advent (though I may pop in on a Sunday.) Four weeks too long to endure the deprivation? I will be checking email. :)

So anyway, if I don't get a chance to post later, have a blessed Advent and a joyous Christmas.

here. I'll try to get my thank-you note up later today.

Mothering and Justice, by Juli Loesch Wiley

In our static links, I've tagged our link to the journal Caelum et Terraas "how Peony discerned her vocation." Articles like this one were what woke me up to the fact that I didn't really like being single, that I really wanted to get married. I had never heard the loving descriptions of family life and the vocation to married life that I came across in CetT. It was through the pages of this journal that I learned why contraception is a serious evil and learned about the beauty of being open to life.

here. I am frantically busy today and won't have time to address her objections point by point.

Michelle's first principle seems to be that breastfeeding in itself is an act that, like defecation, "bodily housekeeping," blowing one's nose, and the marital act, should be performed in private.

I believe this premise is incorrect. Breastfeeding is about feeding a baby, and eating is an act that is considered acceptable to perform in public. I wonder if American culture in particular has gotten a little prudish about breastfeeding simply because, with the aggressive marketing of artificial formula, it became so uncommon during the twentieth century. In centuries past, women of means did not breastfeed in public, but they also avoided appearing in public when they were pregnant and even avoided saying the word "pregnant." (For that matter, they avoided the trouble of feeding and caring for their children at all by hiring a wet-nurse.)

My other premise is that mothers who nurse in public should extend courtesy for others around them and make a reasonable effort to keep things under control.

Michelle brings us the news of an amazing new technology called "bottles." I addressed that in a comments box but briefly, some nursing mothers find pumping to be very difficult, especially for an occasional outing. With bottles, you have to buy them, clean them, sanitize them, fill them, bring enough with you, make sure the milk doesn't spoil, warm them when you get there... a different order of planning altogether than choosing a shirt with nursing openings. If the baby drinks only part of the bottle, the rest of it has to be wasted. And, again, what happens if you do all that and still "get caught"?

Bottles are not only an expense and a hassle, they are not always a workable solution. There is a theory of "nipple confusion" that cautions against using artificial nipples or pacifiers at all for very young babies. Slightly older babies may refuse to take a bottle at all, particularly when Mom is there. If a mother has a very young baby or is going to be out and about for a while, there's also the issue of her breasts getting full.

A mother boarding an airplane got hassled about her bottles of expressed breastmilk and was forced by a TSA official to drink some to prove it wasn't some dangerous substance. All that to avoid getting hassled over nursing her baby on the airplane, when she could have just excused herself, turned away, latched on the baby, and provided the baby with fresh clean nourishment (and instant relief from the ear pain caused by pressure changes.)

Michelle notes that the Holy Father describes breastfeeding as "an individual and private act." (emphasis on "private" is hers.) Private doesn't necessarily mean "hidden from the public eye"; the context of the paragraph seems to indicate private in the sense of an individual or family action, as opposed to a big social movement, so that reflecting on the actions and needs of a single nursing mother can lead us to consideration of large societal trends.

"Think of the children!" Answering awkward questions is part of parenthood. If another little child asks, "what is that lady doing?" and the other parent doesn't want to get into it (even with a straighforward answer such as "she's feeding her little baby") how about "she's taking care of her baby"? Should anyone who might prompt an awkward question stay home? Then all people who are pregnant, remarkably fat, disabled, extremely tall, extremely short, speak languages other than English, or wear clothing that's the least bit out of the ordinary should all stay home.

Again, my own experience is that most nursing mothers prefer to seek out a secluded place, but secluded places are not always available.

My father-in-law died when Hambet was three months old. We got an urgent call at six-thirty pm, urging us to hurry to Pennsylvania, as it would be unlikely he'd live through the night. I threw some clothes in a suitcase and we were on the road in an hour. For a week we lived out of a hotel room. I was spending most of the day in the public eye. Was I to pump bottles for eight to twelve hours' worth of feeding a day (plus keeping them cool, and washing and sanitizing the bottles and the pump at night in the hotel room sink?) Was I to stay home and send my husband off for a week?

How about moms who are on vacation?

Vales first: looks like Vociferous Yawpings is bowing out. Bummer. I'd read it just for the title.

Aves: Speaking of Caritate Dei, Robert Diaz is inviting everyone to check out his group blog Eternal Rebels, which has a cool Chestertonian title and some new members.

Hambet was sitting on my lap while I was surfing, and perked up when he saw the picture of Saint Anthony over at Caritate Dei.

Peony: Do you know Who that Baby is?
Hambet: Baby Jesus ("Baaaaaaaaaby JEEEEEEEsus!")
Peony: Right! That's Baby Jesus! and that's Saint Anthony holding Him.
Hambet: (furrows brow, getting upset, angrily addresses monitor:) No no no! Saint Anfony, needs give Baby Jesus back to Mary!

T.S. O'Rama posts on economic systems and "bridling capitalism:"

One of the negatives of a global economy is that inefficiencies are squashed, and inefficiences can be humane. For example, companies in France and Germany are having to become leaner in order to remain competitive with the U.S. and Japan. Vacation time and benefits in European companies are higher, and they are paying the price for it. Instead of America tending toward the "more civilized" European model, the Europeans are tending towards our more cut-throat model.

It would be interesting if we could get a sustained conversation on distributism and Catholic social teaching going around St Blog's, maybe after the New Year.

Michelle wonders "....why anyone would need to breastfeed in a public restaurant anyway. Certainly doing so is going to hinder your own eating, which is the point of restaurants. Couldn't you feed the baby before going out to forage in fast-food establishments for your own nourishment?"

This is where many people get confused, nursing is not entirely about nutrition. Nutrition is definately one of the side effects of nursing, but nursing is about bonding and comfort too. Children do not nurse the same way they bottle feed, they nurse and stop, nurse and stop. I often think that once a baby leaves the womb, there is still a long process of the child separating themselves from their mother physically because babies really do not seem to understand right away that they are separate people. Nursing and weaning are a part of that process. People often confuse the two-bottle feeding and nursing while bottle feeding really is a horse of an entirely different colour. It is entirely about nutrition. I think if you never had children or are not in a profession such as a lactation consultant, this is not entirely obvious.

As for going out and being able to put the baby down while you eat-BWAHAHAHA!!!! Good luck! On the other hand I am quite adept at pretending to be an octupus. I amazed ladies at Weight Watchers with my ability to hold Gorbulas on my hip, and put on my high heel zip up boots with one hand and balancing on one foot. Nursing while eating is small potatoes.

Lastly, if you have ever tried to not nurse a baby or toddler who wanted to be nursed, this would cause a much bigger disturbance and commotion than nursing a child in public ever will. If a baby is colicky and screams all the time, a breast maybe the only way to soothe the child. Let's not even talk about stubborn toddlers. Of course, does Mom really need to go to a restaurant once in a while she still has a nursling? Kyeah! Stressed out Mommies are not a pretty sight.

I allude, of course, to Burger King's new corporate policy, which states clearly that mothers who nurse their babies at BK will not be harassed, and that other diners who claim to be offended by the sight of a baby being nourished by the means designed by God will be invited to sit in another spot in the restaurant.

The policy was announced after an incident in a Utah BK on November 8, in which a mother nursing her baby was asked to either nurse in the restroom or leave the restaurant. In giving her that choice, the manager of the restaurant was breaking Utah law, which states a business "may not prohibit a woman's breast-feeding in any location where she otherwise may rightfully be, irrespective of whether the breast is uncovered during or incidental to the breast-feeding." (Nineteen other states have similar laws.)

But it seems like many people think BK made the wrong decision. I first heard about the policy over the weekend, when a local talk show host desperate for some calls was braying "so does this mean she can WHIP IT OUT whenver she wants?" The phrase "WHIP IT OUT" makes me see red, so I changed the channel before I drove the car off the road.

Now I see that Michelle has picked up the topic and reiterates her lack of sympathy for nursing in public (much more politely, of course, than the talk show host.)

Let me first issue my standard disclaimer: Babies have a right to be fed. Nursing babies have a right to nurse. Nursing mothers have the right to nurse their babies, including in public. Nursing mothers have the responsibility to make a reasonable effort to avoid overexposure. I don't care what they do in Scandinavia, nobody wants to see (warning!) this. ("Helsekost" means "health food;" this was a public service announcement.)

But really, is that what we're talking about? I wish that people who dislike nursing in public would be more clear what exactly makes them so uncomfortable. Is it mothers who overexpose themselves out of lack of concern for the feelings of others? Then I'm with them on that point; nursing mothers should be polite just like everyone else.

But the vast majority of nursing mothers are not "whipping" anything out, and are not interested in overexposing themselves. In the Burger King case, the mother was nursing her baby under her sweater. With a little practice, most moms can easily use clothing, slings, and blankets to preserve their modesty while nursing a baby. Check out these photos (scroll down to the bottom) from the Elizabeth Lee website to see what I mean (warning, text alludes to sewing, nursing, shopping, bargain-hunting, and other estrogen-soaked topics.) Are these mothers really invading anyone else's visual privacy? When I talk about nursing a baby in public, that's what I mean.

Is the sight of a woman nursing a baby offensive, even if nothing's showing? Is the mere fact that a breast is in use offensive? Is a nursing mother supposed to just stay home all the time, then, in case the baby might get hungry while she's out and can't find a place to hide?

Michelle wonders "....why anyone would need to breastfeed in a public restaurant anyway. Certainly doing so is going to hinder your own eating, which is the point of restaurants. Couldn't you feed the baby before going out to forage in fast-food establishments for your own nourishment?"

Why would one need to breastfeed in a restaurant? Perhaps because the baby is hungry? Nursing hindering your own eating? Welcome to motherhood! (although one of the nice things about nursing is that, if the baby cooperates, you can feed the baby and still have a free hand to eat, type, manage other children, etc) As for pre-feeding, that's not always an option -- you can't force a nursing baby to eat when he's not hungry. Or you could feed the baby before you go in the restaurant, but find that he's still hungry or thirsty once you get inside.

Let's say you're a mom with a nursling and a couple of older children. You've been running errands and are still a long drive from home; maybe you're travelling. Your baby fell asleep in the car, and your older children fed in a hurry because they're hungry and crabby (and come to think of it, you're getting hungry too.) So you feed the older kids, get a bite to eat yourself, and turn the older ones loose to burn off some energy in the ball pit. By now, the baby's waking up from his car-induced slumber and is ready to eat. What do you do? Let the baby scream in hunger while you round up the disappointed siblings, stuff their feet into their shoes and their arms into their coats, and drag them out to the cold car where they just sit there while you feed the baby, twisting yourself behind the steering wheel? Or turn your back to the restaurant, get the baby started, arrange your sweater so nothing's showing, and feed the baby while the other kids play?

I suspect most nursing mothers prefer to find as private a place as possible to nurse, both to avoid attracting unwanted attention ("eeew, that's gross, can't you go sit on the john, tie up the stall for fifteen minutes, and feed your baby there?") and to get a little rest and quiet themselves. But it's not always easy to find a nice, private place. Nordstrom's and IKEA are the only stores I can think of that have mother's rooms. And then what if there are other people with you? Maybe you'd like spend your time out with them, to enjoy that nice dinner with your husband at the table you're paying good money to sit at.

This is a life issue. Pope Pius XII stated that "it is more desirable that the mother should feed her child at her own breast", and Pope John Paul II has also warmly encouraged breastfeeding, noting that nursing mothers need "support." How do we show support to nursing mothers by chasing them out of public places when they try to feed their babies? One of the reasons women don't breast-feed is that they think they'll be tied down at home all the time. They hear people moaning about how unreasonable BK is being, and think they're going to be harassed if they go out to run their errands or get some lunch and find that they need to nurse their baby. It contributes to the idea that babies are troublesome and unwelcome, and that motherhood is drudgery and an end to normal life.

Michelle notes that BK's new policy states that if a customer complains about a breastfeeding mother, the complaining customer is to be offered another place to eat in the restaurant. Michelle's comment: "Ah, the old "If you don't like it, it's your problem" argument. How enlightened and mature; the perfect example for young children."

So instead, BK should offer that same argument ("If you don't like nursing in the john or leaving the restaurant, that's your problem") to a mother who wants to feed her baby?

Pope John Paul II again:

"Even this brief reflection on the very individual and private act of a mother feeding her infant can lead us to a deep and far-ranging critical rethinking of certain social and economic presuppositions, the negative human and moral consequences of which are becoming more and more difficult to ignore. Certainly, a radical re-examination of many aspects of prevailing socio-economic patterns of work, economic competitiveness and lack of attention to the needs of the family is urgently necessary."

Sparki had a good post a couple of days ago on avoiding Chinese-made products. Davey's mommy picks up the discussion and links to this article on the fight to keep Wal-Mart out of the little town of Abingdon, Virginia.

I would like to add to the discussion, but my thoughts are all a-jumble and today's to-do list is very long. A few random thoughts:

1. I dislike Wal-Mart because it's a crowded, cluttered, ugly store. Yet there are a few products that I know I can reliably find at Wal-Mart. Last summer I underpacked and needed some plain white cotton underwear. We were traveling through Michigan's Upper Peninsula and I knew Wal-mart would have them, even in my size, and that I'd be able to get them on Saturday evening.

1.5 But then did I really need them? Couldn't I have just washed out a couple in the sink and dried them overnight?

2. It's true that Wal-Mart drives small retailers out of business. Just ask my uncle. He used to have a hardware store in a small town in South Dakota. Wal-Mart opened up outside of town. He scarcely lasted a year afterwards. I'm told that most of the other downtown merchants succumbed as well, and that now the downtown is a ghost town.

2.5 Wal-Mart brings products to small towns that small-town retailers might not otherwise have been able to stock. But is it worth it? Couldn't they have ordered those products in the mail? Did they even need those products? Was it worth destroying their downtowns?

3. I hate buying Chinese products (and it really frosts me when you see religous goods made in China.) But as Davey's mommy and Sparki point out, it's getting harder and harder to find things that aren't made in China. Are there any lights for the Christmas tree, for example, that aren't made in China?

4. It seems like our entire economy is based on retail these days, but very few retail employees are in unions.

5. I've been a member of a union (most bedside nurses in Washington, DC are union) and I was horrified by how thick-headed our leadership was. After I left my union position, the nurses went on strike -- this at a time when the hospital was struggling to stay afloat. I thought the timing of the strike was a poor idea to begin with, and then the strike dragged on for a couple of months. Striking nurses who were out of money started to sneak across their own picket lines and return to work. The union ended up accepting a proposal that the hospital had offered four weeks previously.

I also saw nurses with bad attitudes hiding behind union rules. My husband, who works for the federal government, sees the same thing all the time: lazy and incompetent people hiding behind union rules. I would have a lot more sympathy for unions if they weren't so stupid and did more to encourage excellence in their employees.

6. I ordered our Thanksgiving dinner (long story) from Safeway. Should I cross the picket line to pick it up?

7. Hambet wants cornflakes. Time to wrap up.

8. I am growing more and more uncomfortable with the way we're shaping our economy. I'm growing mistrustful of globalization -- the world is simply too large and complex to be considered as a single market. People's needs are better served by smaller, local institutions whereever possible.

Is our economy going to end up destroying itself and seriously damaging our country? What are we going to do when we run out of countries with cheap labor to produce our goods for us? What are we going to do if we go to war with China and can't import from them?

What good is it going to do to have all these U.S. companies making goods overseas and importing them back to the U.S., if people back in the US can't afford to buy them?

Through zoning and other projects, cities are aggressivly wooing singles and childless couples (including homosexual couples) because they pay in more money to the city treasury than they take out. Children are seen as an economic liability, as a civic burden. So families with children have fewer places to find housing.

It just doesn't seem healthy. The economic decisions our country is making seem to be based on short term gain and not on the long-term economic health and security of our country. But who cares if we have a major depression in the future? We've got to show a big profit this quarter so our stock doesn't tank!

And then what can we, as individual consumers, do about it? As Davey's mommy writes,

...I feel like without organized resistance on a large scale to Chinese-made products, avoiding them is like taking a penny out of the pocket of Bill Gates and a lot of dollars and hours from ourselves trying to find alternatives.....

The Washington Post (marketing questions) had two interesting book reviews yesterday on globalization and debt (and the abyss of our trade deficit.)

9. And then I haven't touched the Catholic social teaching on these topics.

10. I haven't touched distributism either.

is here.

I wonder if Burke and Pieper count as "major philosophers"? Oh well, it wouldn't make a difference in my results: "the downtown library serves most of my needs."

Actually I order my library books online and go to the branch to pick them up.

Lift up your heads, ye mighty gates;
Behold, the King of glory waits;
The King of kings is drawing near;
The Savior of the world is here!

A Helper just He comes to thee,
His chariot is humility,
His kingly crown is holiness,
His scepter, pity in distress.

O blest the land, the city blest,
Where Christ the Ruler is confessed!
O happy hearts and happy homes
To whom this King in triumph comes!

Fling wide the portals of your heart;
Make it a temple, set apart
From earthly use for heaven’s employ,
Adorned with prayer and love and joy.

Redeemer, come, with us abide;
Our hearts to Thee we open wide;
Let us Thy inner presence feel;
Thy grace and love in us reveal.

Thy Holy Spirit lead us on
Until our glorious goal is won;
Eternal praise, eternal fame
Be offered, Savior, to Thy Name!

This hymn is usually sung to Truro but I think it sounds awesome -- a sure bringer of "Godbumps" -- sung to Jerusalem.

I am a little frustrated with Weight Watchers because I am really not sure how many points I should eat. I can eat 30 points a day and lose. I can actually eat a little bit more than 30 and lose more , but I am not sure how much more before it is too much more. I am also not sure how much under 30 points I can eat and still lose. The 20 points my Weight Watchers leader-person insists I am supposed to eat because my nursling does not nurse exclusively is unrealistic unless I pass out. For example, if I do not lumberack it up at breakfast, by 10:30 AM, I am shakey, sweaty and seeing stars. An example of my "lumberjack" breakfast is one bowl of oatmeal made with half a cup of oats, 1 tablespoon of blackstrap molasses (iron) and two tablespoons of flax (omega fatty acids and fiber). That is four points, One orange, another point. Maybe a piece of light bread toast and margarine and a cup of coffee simply for pleasure, another 3 points. That would leave me with 12 points for the rest of the day, which I think is too low for a nursing Mom.

I asked my WW person again about this, and she really thinks I am trying to sneak a few extra points in there. She is very nice, but is oblivious to the concept of a nursing two year old who really takes calories from you. Anyway, I would like to have some extra points for Thanksgiving, but not sure how low is too low to bank or how high I can go on Thursday. My normal pre-nursing course of action is to starve all day on Thanksgiving until dinner, but again, I would be passed out if I attempted that now.

The Curt Jester brings our attention to Steve's great post on the seven capital sins, Seven Means to Seven Sorrows:

It’s amazing really. From Bach to Eminem, every bit of music is a variation on eight simple notes. The same goes for literature – the Greeks identified roughly a half-dozen different plots, and that’s all anyone has ever used. Unhappiness is the same way. There are only a handful of ways to become unhappy....

Take that, Tolstoy! I hope Steve follows up with a discusssion of the seven cardinal virtues.

1. List five things you'd like to accomplish by the end of the year. Establish a better daily routine. Establish a daily exercise program. Write and send Christmas cards. Finish potty-training Hambet. Get pregnant.

2. List five people you've lost contact with that you'd like to hear from again. Only one: I'd like to talk again with my high school English teacher, Ms. Priscilla Rooth. Mostly to fall at her feet in homage.

3. List five things you'd like to learn how to do. Knit. Play the piano with more skill. Sew better. Write clever rhyming poetry. Dress better.

4. List five things you'd do if you won the lottery (no limit). Send big checks to my favorite charities, including anonymous gifts and donations to individuals and families I know who could use a little good news. Fix up and sell the Prussian Green Money Pit, get a nice old house, fix it up, and decorate it. Visit my mom more often and buy her new furniture.

5. List five things you do that help you relax. Surf the net. Make something. Read. Rent movies. Go someplace beautiful (basilica, garden, historic house, even a store with pretty things to look at.)

Well, actually kind of a bluish-greenish grey. A few weeks ago I mentioned taking Hambet to the pumpkin patch, and how Iris and I brought home some heirloom pumpkins.

Mine was a bluish-gray thing, and I recently discovered that it is a"Jarrahdale" pumpkin.

Last weekend I set about cooking and eating it. This was the first time I'd cooked a pumpkin (I usually use canned.) I took out the seeds, scraped out the pulp, and cut the pumpkin into wedges. The wedges went on a baking sheet and into the oven for about at hour at 300 degrees.

After the pumpkin was cooked, it was time to puree the flesh. That was such a hassle. I went for the food processor first and discovered it's broken. So then I tried the blender, which was miserable -- I had to puree the stuff in microbatches, and even then it didn't work well -- the thick pumpkin kept getting wedged under the blades. I had to add bits of water so that it would move around in the blender jar.

Eventually I got the knack of it, but it wasn't until the second to last batch that I remembered the food mill. That would have been the ideal tool.

One pumpkin yielded about two pounds of cooked, pureed pumpkin flesh. I made a pie with half of it, and I might make some muffins with the other half.

I did save the seeds, so maybe I'll be able to grow my own grey pumpkins next year.

I am not sure what the situation is here, but the thing I cannot understand (molestation allegations aside) is why any parent in there right mind would let their children hang out with this guy after that bizarro interview last winter.

my smelling salts.... head...swelling.....

First, why don't they just change the name of the show to Spike instead of Angel? I am wondering how we are supposed to feel about Spike and Angel because Angel is so annoying. Spike however is kinda cool. Gone are the days of Angel the Champion, Helper of the Helpless sacrificing himself for pregnant women whose demon champions he accidently killed, and the greater good. Now he is a Fat Cat who sits behond his desk at Wolfram and Hart. Boring...

Now the good part was the end when they brought Lindsay back. Yes, Lindsay, true to form and recognizable because the boy needs a haircut. What they are up to, no one knows, but we do know this, he is a dead man walking. Angel told him in Season Two to leave town and of he comes back, he will kill him.

Worst Episode EVER!

Are my husband and I the only people in the lower 48 watching this show? It seems like it sometimes. If that's the case, the writers should not antagonize us, as they did so egregiously last night.

The word spoilers never seemed so appropriate: the show stank morally, dramatically, and every other way you could think of. Good points first: they showed the Captain's dog. Hambet is always pleased when they show the dog. I think he thinks the dog is the star of the show.

The premise of the episode is that Tucker, the chief engineer, suffers "neural damage" in an accident and needs some kind of transplanted "neural tissue" to recover from his coma. I guess in the future they don't have ordinary closed-head and spinal cord injuries. Time, of course, is of the essence since they are in some kind of anomaly field and the ship's getting covered with big blobs of metallic crud -- the typical Treknobabble setup. They need Tucker to recover so that he can come up with the way to get them out of the field so they can go hunt down the evil Xindi and Save Earth. (Apparently they set out with only one officer in Engineering who went to engineering school, and there's nobody else in the department who can be promoted. So without Tucker the whole mission is in jeopardy and the Earth is doomed.)

In the future they also seem to have forgotten all about the promising adult stem-cell experiments run in the twenty-first century. Instead, Dr Phlox (creepy alien ship's doctor) uses some kind of alien critter's skin as a substrate and they make a "symbiont" -- actually, a clone -- of Tucker (a procedure illegal on the critter's home planet.)

First objection: Trek writers. Don't try to pull a fast one on us. They didn't make a symbiont. They made a clone.

Bigger objection: nobody seemed to have any problem with this at all. Captain Archer gives only a token three seconds of reflection before he concludes I don't care what we've gotta do, we've got to save Tucker so we can Go Save Earth! And nobody is shown even suggesting to him that this is wrong.

Clones made from this critter, like the animal clones being made now, mature and age rapidly. So the clone, which they cruelly name "Sym," goes from infancy to adulthood in about a week, with a life expectancy of fifteen days. And in a touch of extremely bogus science that brings the ol' voluntary suspension of disbelief crashing to the floor, Sym has Tucker's memories. He actually thinks he is Tucker until they tell him the truth.

The Trek writers wimp out and do not show the moment when they tell Sym the truth. They just show him afterwards looking extremely happy and well-adjusted, as if learning that all your memories are false and that you were actually concocted in the lab with the express purpose of providing tissue for a transplant isn't anything that would shake you up. Sym conveniently possesses Tucker's memories of engineering school, so he sets about making himself useful down in the engine room.

It comes time to perform the transplant, and it becomes apparent that, contrary to initial expectations, Sym will not survive the tissue donation. Archer is angry but wants to proceed with the surgery. For a moment the clone behaves somewhat realistically when he angrily resists -- he wants to live out his life. Archer warns him that he doesn't "want to be forced" to force Sym to submit to the surgery.

Now, instead doing something really dramatic and showing Archer marching Sym to the O.R. under an armed guard, the writers wimp out again. Sym sulks for a couple of minutes and then cheerfully trots off to give up his neural tissue: "I guess this what I'm here for!" He is even shown thanking the crew for a happy life. Problem solved. The transplant is successful and Tucker recovers so quickly, he's able to attend his clone's funeral.

And are they going to show Tucker's reaction next week, when he learns about the short life of his identical twin? (Tucker recently lost his only sister when the evil aliens attacked Earth.) If they do, I doubt they'll show him doing anything more than shrugging it off.

If TV shows are going to be entertainment, let them be entertainment. But if they're going to try to Look At The Issues, then they shouldn't wimp out.

I complain again that they are also showing way too much of the Vulcan woman. This "Vulcan acupressure" she's teaching Tucker seems to entail postures that are less about acupressure than about seriously titillating adolescent male viewers. Even the sexuality on this show is cynical and jaded. The original Enterprise certainly had its implied sins against chastity, but even with their torn shirts and go-go boots, Captain Kirk and his crew seemed a bit more professional and concerned with decorum than this bunch (and more sincere and likeable in their amorousness.)

I know, Pansy and Victor, we should be watching Angel instead, but it comes on at nine and we are early-to-bed types. Plus, we haven't been watching it, so we'd have no clue as to what was going on.

If you are interested in sending her a birthday card (or even a present), the Foundation has a mailing address and suggestions.

Just don't send flowers. Michael says Terri's not allowed to have flowers.

Over at Catholic Light, RC links to this article by Stanley Kurtz about the implications of the Supreme Court of Massacussetts (SCoM): get ready for polygamy!

Thank you, feminists and other '60's radicals, for working for a society where women would no longer be treated like property! No more of those wicked days -- we've made progress! We have dignity! Now we're treated like.... rentals!

We live on a busy street, so I have taken to asking my Guardian Angel for help getting out of my driveway, particularly if I want to go left.

Today when Hambet and I were out driving around, I heard on the radio that the Massachussets Supreme Court decision would be announced today, so I said the St Michael prayer. I was delighted to hear Hambet pipe up from the back seat, "Gua'dian Angel, hewp us! Mehwy, hewp! Aaaaa-men!"

My little heathen won't stay put in church and won't let me teach him the Sign of the Cross, so I'm glad something's sinking in. Thanks for indulging me in this proud mommy moment.

Anne Rice is writing your life. Go you goth girl, go.



Which Author's Fiction are You?

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They are running around outside with ski masks, gloves and their coats on but wide open and unzippered.

...The jubilant music, clapping, shouting and swaying -- more commonly affiliated with a service at a Baptist church -- are a regular part of St. George's worship service.

"Our black folks find it difficult to go to white parishes because they're laid back. Here we try to touch our African roots," said Martin Amissah, musical director at the Arbor Hill church and brother of the pastor, the Rev. Kofi Ntsiful-Amissah...

Do You Know Where Your Children Are?
Most likely, they're watching PG-13 movies. Those would be the ones with the foul language, oral-sex references and torture scenes.... (WaPo; marketing questions)

An interesting and disturbing article about "ratings creep", exacerbated by the introduction of the PG-13 movie rating (and ultimately made possible by parental inattention and laxity.) Thank you, Hollywood, for serving up incredible filth to teens and younger, all in the name of greed.

Case in point: the new Cat in the Hat movie (which looks awful to me.) This movie is based on a book beloved of preschoolers and beginning readers -- and is rated PG. Couldn't Hollywood show a little restraint (and a little consideration for the parents of young children who might want to see the movie?)

Ugh. I can't write more about Hollywood and the laughable ratings system without resorting to invective.

Flannery O'Connor wrote your book. Not much escapesyour notice.


Which Author's Fiction are You?

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I'll be ordering some peacocks terreckly. Thanks to Michelle for this quiz.

Erik gets the gold star!

It is the year 1977. My family just moved from New York City to Trenton, New Jersey because of my father's new job with the New Jersey State Department of Education. Since we have only lived in the community one day, my parents are unfamiliar with the community and attend Sunday Mass at the closest, most visible Church. The name of the parish is St. Hedwig's. The Church is filled with marble, statues, the faint smell of incense and the life sized crucifix that looks as if you can actually see Our Lord's blood dripping down. The Church is also packed. While the Mass is clearly recognizable as the Mass, my parents are a bit embarressed about not responding because they did not realise the Mass would be said in Polish. After Mass I present my parents with a five dollar bill. My parents who are absolutely surprised ask where I got it from and I point to an elderly gentleman walking down the street who sat next to me in Church. They apologise to the man and try to return his five dollar bill. He refuses and states it was a present for me because I was such a sweet little girl. Even though St.Hedwig's ministered to the Polish community of Trenton, there was no sense that being Polish took precedence over Catholicism here. On the contrary my father said he has not stepped foot in such a catholic Church since his childhood.

Fast forward to the year 1989. I am sixteen and ticked off because my parents whisked me half way around the world to the Fiji Islands in the South Pacific. The past few days have been eventful, flying from Newark, to Hawaii, to Fiji. Then driving three hours around a volcanic island (in other words-hilly) to have a breakfast of curried vegetables. That was two days ago. Now we we had to find Mass in the middle of a Fijian village of all places. When we found it, Mass was being said by an Irish missionary priest. The villagers were dressed in their Sunday best-meaning shoes and pocket sulus. But I take notice because they do the oddest thing before Communion, they genuflect. After Mass the priest who we never laid on eyes on ever before stops my mother and says "I saw you come in. I was wondering what an Anglican is doing in our midst?" What did he say? How could he possibly have known my mother was Episcopalian?

A few months and some crash catechism lessons involving Peter Kreeft books assigned by the Colomban Father, my mother would receive her first Communion in LoMary, the place where the first Columban missionaries would set foot on Fiji. The Mass would be in Fijian and my mother would reply "Amen" when the Irish priest offers her The Bula Modrai, or roughly translated "Bread of Life" pronounced mm-BOO-luh MON-dry.

Jump ahead again to 2001, Diocese of Albany. I am sitting in a parish council meeting. Tonight are to discuss social justice and reaching out to the community in a Christian manner. Laughter is just dying down because that witty pastor made a remark (again) "and the Italians here all know what stubborn is because they are all married to Irish people. Ha ha!" No we are not. My father is organising a baby shower at the Church for people to donate to Community Maternity Services. One lady states that even though she knows what the Church teaches about contraception, we really need to teach these black people about safe sex because they just keep having babies in poverty. Other topics addressed are how we will no longer kneel during the Consecration as "we are waiting for Rome to catch up with the rest of the Church...", and reaching out to the Community. Sister states she wishes she knew Spanish so she could attract some of the Jamaican immigrants to the Food Pantry. Um, Jamiacans speak English. Someone else comes up with the great idea that we should publish the names of the families we help at the food pantry in the weekly bulletin.

The previous Sunday I am sitting downstairs with my neighbor. She is like me half black half white with a Puerto Rican significant other. Our children could be siblings. She is adopted though. Her mother is white and after she adopted her daughter, decided her mission in life would be to teach her about all things black. One of ways is to attend "The Black Catholic Apostolate" Sunday Service. It used to be called St. George's. She shows me pictures of the procession where they blow horns and beat on drums. My neighbor rolls her eyes because even though she is not a practicing Catholic, there is nothing about this Church that "seems real" to her, so she does not go. Her mother tells me I should go because "it is better" there. They learn lessons about black history for Sunday school. I suppose my family would feel right at home there because since I am black, I raised to beat drums and blow horns to announce the daily rosary. Get real.

I have heard of this Church. I have also heard of the Spanish Church because it seems everytime I am introduced to someone, they usually say "you know there is a Spanish Church. They have Mass in Spanish there and everything, you should check it out." I had to tell one priest four times "But I do not speak Spanish!!!" It would be so affectatious and pretentious to start fabricating ethnic customs that truly do not exist in my family in order to feel accepted in a parish on the other side of town.

My problem with ethnicty in a parish community is not when the community is simply of a certain ethnicity and that is reflected, as long as the focus of the Parish is to bring the Sacraments. My problem is when ethnicity overrides the Catholicism. In a diocese such as mine where formation is minimal and people really have no idea why they are at Church (or at least that is what someone said at an Parish Council meeting "I do not know why I am here, it is part of my culture or something I guess.") many Churches start to become meeting areas for people of similar ethnicities. I can pull out more stories, such as one where people looked at my family and said "what are they doing here, don't they know this is a private Mass?" Or the time I my family was sitting in the same Church, where I was on Parish Council and some middle aged women sat next to us and said to each other "oh look, a LA-TEEN-O family" and when we knelt during the Consecration they said "it's because thay have a language barrier." but I am hoping I illustrated the contrast and difference between the two.

So I was watching my new favourite TV show (since Angel has gotten so dorky and boring) Mythbusters
on the Discovery Channel. It is a show in which these two smart, geeky guys attempt to prove or dissprove urban legends by recreating them. In last's nights epsiode they ate a whole bunch of poppy seed bagels and lemon poppy seed cake to see if it would cause a false positive on urine sample drug tests. To everyone's surprise (at least mine) it did.

OK, now if this is true, I find this scary. My husband works a job that administers random urine drug tests, and according to their findings, he may very well eat one of my yummy homeade lemon poppy seed shortbread cookies, come out positive and get fired. This really seems not right.

I am curious if companies who rely on random drug testing realise the potential for false positives and if the concept is truly to deter drug use rather than to prove drug use?

In the meantime, this is a recipe for Lemon Poppy Seed Shortbread Cookies which I cannot eat anymore because of my diet. Bummer. This is not my exact recipe which is still packed away somewhere, but very similar. Enjoy and stay away from random drug tests.

I want to thank Pansy Moss for her first-hand example of racial attitudes in America. To address Mr. De Nunzio's point further, there was no question in the comments on this Blog of ignoring or trivializing racial differences. Indeed, as Pansy says, they are deeply entrenched. The question is, why do these differences exist and to what extent are they exacerbated by centuries-long non-Catholic attitudes. This is exactly what Pansy alluded to. To bring us back to the original topic, Jeff and I voiced concern over racialist views being touted as “traditionalist” (in both the political and religious sense). I completely agree that the “anti-racist” crusade is generally so much leftist agitprop. I’m not concerned that Nazism is going to take over the U.S. But that doesn’t change that fact that in a small community like traditional Catholicism, which liberalism seeks to marginalize, that fringe views can make themselves more strongly felt, whether they are promoting false apparations, errroneous theology or political error. Jeff’s concern with the ideas of Jim Kalb (or mine with Sam Francis) is the idea that ethnicity should be a fundamental factor in formulating political ethics and Catholic social policy. Nor is this some vague paranoia. None of us would care in the least except that there are more explicit examples, like the “Legion of St. Louis,” which claims to promote Catholic Action yet sells works by anti-Semites, racists and extremists. The deeper danger is that the spiritual struggle is reduced to an ideological one in which “holiness” is equated with arcane or even dangerous political preferences. These groups do exist, and where their presence is felt, dissension and confusion follow.

First, I would like to give a shout out to Jeff because he is a fellow Trad that doesn't buy into any of this BS, and that is why I am one of his biggest fans.

One of the reasons why I love the Traditional Latin Mass is the culture that is held in esteem above others is Catholic, not Spanish, not Irish, not black or Italian but Catholic. This is hard to find in many Novus Ordo Masses around here. That is why this racist attitude that seems to permeating the Traditional movement is so heartbreaking. The Catholic Church is Universal and all men are created in the image and likeness of God. If a person wants to stick to the true traditions of the Church Christ established, then we need to look at a person as a human and not as simply someone of some race.

The notion that since liberals promote "diversity" and "tolerance" (which are also buzz words for racism) it is also OK to support some type of white supremecy such as The Caucasian Club or whatever is stupid, reactive and nothing more than an excuse to get Catholicism to fit someone's own racist agenda. And last I checked, when you try to change the Church to support what you believe rather than what the Church teaches, that is called Protestantism.

Someone told me once that the notion of "integration" is nothing more than black people wanting pity for their dark skin? What the? No, integration is what happens when people stop being afraid of each other simply on the basis of race.

Steven Greydanus, my movie guru, raves Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World -- and he's even read the books! (Thanks, Victor, for the heads up.)

I could blog on and on about how much I love the books. I'm still only halfway through reading the series for the first time -- I'm pacing myself to prolong the pleasure of the first reading. Come for the adventure, but stay for the characters and O'Brian's exploration of how we humans can b