May 2009 Archives

http://www.kansas.com/news/breaking/story/833730.html

As any stay-at-home parent can tell you, there are highs and there are lows. There are moments when this is the best job in the world, and moments when you'd love to pull your hair out and go freaking berserk. You would do anything for a break. It's HARD work. It's not a walk in the park, and it's not a breeze. At times, it's aggravating. It's not just the kids you have to deal with. You're in contact with every single person that they're in contact with -- their teachers, their playdate's parents, their doctors, their dentists. It's a lot to manage having two kids, much less eight.

-Jay Brown in his commentary Jon Gosselin is NOT a Stay-at-Home Dad!

What I really want to know is how the powers that be in charge of the apocalypse bother to make the players so politically correct. Not the movie makers, you know, the fates, like in Angel or Charmed...

The world is destroyed and the people who are left are a smart white guy, a little black girl, a universal Indian like lady, a black rapper, an old woman and various generic white criminal types.

Well duh Mom, you always need a rapper. Sheesh.

As troubled as I am by the notion that Christians should be unable to judge right and wrong in our lives and in our culture, simply because we are not exempt from sin, I am more troubled by the notion that Christian love is about reminding people of the law that's written on their hearts ad infinitum rather than practicing love that feels impossible, loving those who are most difficult for us to love. "OH! But that's what I'm doing when I admonish!" they say. "I can't let them go to hell! That would be unloving!" What I know about hellfire and damnation is that Jesus has the power to redeem us, and it is questionable how much power we have to save others from hell. What I know of admonishment, from admonishing my children, is that the more I admonish them, the further they run from me, whereas the more I love them, hold them close, show them affection, the closer they stay and the more likely they are to listen to my corrections. -- Betty Duffy, via TSO

Joy and gaiety were so much a part of [St. Philip Neri's] normal disposition that Goethe, who esteemed him highly, called him the "humorous saint." It was his gay, blithe spirit that opened for him the hearts of children. "Philip Neri, learned and wise, by sharing the pranks of children himself became a child again" (epitaph). -- via Julie

“I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn’t lived that life,”

~Justice Sonia Sotomayor

Pansy's commentary: Dubya tee eff?!?

HT: Roseblue

Skimming lightly, wheeling still,
The swallows fly low
Over the field in clouded days,
The forest-field of Shiloh -
Over the field where April rain
Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain
Through the pause of night
That followed the Sunday fight
Around the church of Shiloh -
The church so lone, the log-built one,
That echoed to many a parting groan
And natural prayer
Of dying foemen mingled there -
Foemen at morn, but friends at eve
Fame or country least their care:
(What like a bullet can undeceive!)
But now they lie low,
While over them the swallows skim,
And all is hushed at Shiloh.

Herman Melville

Hat tip: Julie, who passes on this prayer composed by Benedict XVI:

Virgin Most Holy, Mother of the Incarnate Word and our Mother, venerated in the Shrine of Sheshan under the title “Help of Christians”, the entire Church in China looks to you with devout affection. We come before you today to implore your protection. Look upon the People of God and, with a mother’s care, guide them along the paths of truth and love, so that they may always be a leaven of harmonious coexistence among all citizens.

When you obediently said “yes” in the house of Nazareth,
you allowed God’s eternal Son to take flesh in your virginal womb
and thus to begin in history the work of our redemption.
You willingly and generously cooperated in that work,
allowing the sword of pain to pierce your soul,
until the supreme hour of the Cross, when you kept watch on Calvary,
standing beside your Son, who died that we might live.

From that moment, you became, in a new way,
the Mother of all those who receive your Son Jesus in faith
and choose to follow in his footsteps by taking up his Cross.
Mother of hope, in the darkness of Holy Saturday you journeyed
with unfailing trust towards the dawn of Easter.
Grant that your children may discern at all times,
even those that are darkest, the signs of God’s loving presence.

Our Lady of Sheshan, sustain all those in China,
who, amid their daily trials, continue to believe, to hope, to love.
May they never be afraid to speak of Jesus to the world,
and of the world to Jesus.
In the statue overlooking the Shrine you lift your Son on high,
offering him to the world with open arms in a gesture of love.
Help Catholics always to be credible witnesses to this love,
ever clinging to the rock of Peter on which the Church is built.
Mother of China and all Asia, pray for us, now and for ever. Amen!

One of the many, many detestable habits of the chattering class kids is their trick of finding some eight-bit word (perhaps vaguely remembered from the days of Vocabulary for the College Bound) and then using, using, and using it again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

Remember "gravitas" in the late 'eighties or 'early nineties? So-and-so had "gravitas," so-and-so didn't. Did the candidate have enough gravitas? Who did have gravitas?

And what exactly was this gravitas they were all yapping about? It certainly wasn't "real" gravitas , which was and is a very unfashionable virtue. By "gravitas" they more or less meant "appearing serious, though not too serious, on camera" -- or, put another way, "not being like that uncool unperson Dan Quayle." It was a three syllable word for "approved." So "gravitas" was everyone's new favorite word, and it was all gravitas all the time for about eight months, and then all mention of gravitas ceased.

"Gobsmacked" was hip for a while. Now the fashionable word seems to be "nuanced" -- 2,770,000 hits on Google, with the very first hit after the dictionary entries appearing in the same sentence as "Obama." Every word the President utters is "nuanced", because he's sooo smart and all.

But what "nuance" are they talking about? I thought it meant "subtle, delicate shades of meaning." Is that really a positive quality in Presidential speeches? Am I just a barbarian for thinking that speeches should be clear and unambiguous? Or is "nuanced" just another word for "I like it"?

Now we learn that Charles Krauthammer's writing lacks "nuance" because his paraplegia prevents him from not being "able to see the situations he's writing about." Now, am I understanding Joe Klein's nuances correctly? Writing at a remove precludes subtlety of expression? If that's the case, those people Twittering in the movie queue must be pouring out torrents of nuanced eloquence.

Well, enough already. "Nuance" does not mean "hypnotic". It does not mean "sounds nice." It does not mean "equivocal", it does not mean "plausibly deniable." It does not mean "cool" or "approved" or "unlike those terribly dull people who keep wanting to bring divisive words like right and wrong into the discussion."

THEREFORE,

I hereby declare a moratorium on the use of the word "nuanced" by any organ of the major news media.

This includes, but is not limited to, daily newspapers, their websites, and all content published therein; news and commentary on broadcast and paid television, news and commentary on broadcast and paid radio, and news and commentary on major websites.

Offenders shall, for each use of this word, handwrite the following quotation fifty times, using correct spelling and punctuation:

"Ready acceptance of vogue words...stands for the herd instinct and lack of individuality." -- H.W. Fowler

Repeat offenders shall, in addition to the above, spend an hour in the pillory, during which they shall read aloud, slowly and clearly, "Politics and the English Language" (Orwell, 1946) in its entirety.

SIGNED BY MY HAND on the 21 of May, in the Two Thousand and Ninth Year of Our Lord,

PEONY MOSS

enough is enough already. Please explain to me why for crying out loud, why one of the countries most notable universities named after our Blessed Mother, 12K people who sought a Catholic education, none of those people in the auditorium knew what our faith is. I don't understand it. This campus should have bells chiming at noon, and everyone stopping and praying the Angelus, reciting the words "And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us..." Do they not know Christ was our Redeemer in the womb? My mother grew up in Harlem in the fifties and remembers the bells chiming for the Angelus, and she wasn't Catholic then, let alone attending a fancy, Catholic University.

We are lacking in formation. We are in worship. And we are lacking in a Catholic culture.

Shouldn't this be a sign? Enough of being a nice Church. It's time to be a Catholic Church.

Whew, just, you know, had to get that out my system.

It's all about the photo op; the President got what he wanted. And as for "dialogue", what has Notre Dame as an institution done to clearly speak up for life, particularly in the actions-that-speak-louder-than-words line?

William McGurn:

In a letter to Notre Dame's Class of 2009, the university's president, the Rev. John Jenkins, stated that the honors for Mr. Obama do not indicate any "ambiguity" about Notre Dame's commitment to Catholic teaching on the sanctity of human life. The reality is that it was this ambiguity that the White House was counting on; this ambiguity that was furthered by the adoring reaction to Mr. Obama's visit; and this ambiguity that disheartens those working for an America that respects the dignity of life inside the womb....

With its billions in endowment and its prestigious name, Notre Dame ought to be in the lead here. But when asked for examples illuminating the university's unambiguous support for unborn life, [University spokesman] Mr. Brown could provide only four: help for pregnant students who want to carry their babies to term, student volunteer work for pregnant women at local shelters, prayer mentions at campus Masses, and lectures such as a seminar on life issues.

These are all well and good, but they also highlight the poverty of Notre Dame's institutional witness. At Notre Dame today, there is no pro-life organization -- in size, in funding, in prestige -- that compares with the many centers, institutes and so forth dedicated to other important issues ranging from peace and justice to protecting the environment. Perhaps this explains why a number of pro-life professors tell me they must not be quoted by name, lest they face career retaliation.

The one institute that does put the culture of life at the heart of its work, moreover -- the Center for Ethics and Culture -- doesn't even merit a link under the "Faith and Service" section on the university's Web site. The point is this: When Notre Dame doesn't dress for the game, the field is left to those like Randall Terry who create a spectacle and declare their contempt for civil and respectful witness.

It's very rare that a Saint calls me a saint...

This gem comes via The Dawn Patrol:

A lovely reflection at Catholic Exchange:

Psalm 139:13-16 rejoices, "My frame was not hidden from You when I was being made in secret ." Earlier in the chapter, verse 13 marvels, "You formed my inward parts; You knit me in my mother’s womb." This word "knit " is also sometimes translated "wove" or "woven." David sings that his being was woven together secretly by God. Often this section of Scripture is used by pro-life activists to emphasize the inherent sacredness of conception and birth, the invisible invasion of created body by God-breathed soul in the protected covering of a mother’s person. But more than a wonder, it is the holy preparation of God.

The word translated "knit" in Hebrew is sakak , meaning “covered.” This word is used almost exclusively in the Old Testament to describe the veiling of the presence of God from human eyes in the Holy of Holies....

So I came across this article by Harold McGee that described a way of making yogurt at home -- without a yogurt maker. My husband and I have been on a bit of a yogurt jag, so I decided to give it a try. I followed the method carefully -- twice -- and got nothing but milk.

Lemons:lemonade::failed yogurt:homemade sherbet, so that came out all right. Now I'm trying a crockpot method, so we'll see how that goes.

Do you make yogurt at home? Do you do it freestyle or with one of those cunning little yogurt makers? Any suggestions?

The Importance of Jack Kemp:

blockquote>...his lost presidential run in 1988 did land him in the unlikely spot of Secretary of Housing and Urban Development. It was there that Reaganites huddled in what was generally viewed as one of the least important backwaters of the federal government, a place touched by scandal at that. Ignored by the powers of the Bush 41 administration, Kemp blew into this concrete box with the force of a category five hurricane. If you worked for him you were quickly a part of an ongoing tutorial -- done under the guise of a "brown bag lunch" -- that featured everything from Heritage Foundation policy wonks to Sir Martin Gilbert, the biographer of Winston Churchill, to Alex Kotlowitz, the author of There Are No Children Here. The last was a gripping tale of two boys growing up amid the abysmal failure of liberal urban policy, in this case Chicago's Henry Horner Homes. Also up for discussion was Assets and the Poor, a book about the failures of the welfare system.

It wasn't always tutorials, either. Kemp himself was not only out there in America's inner cities inspecting the failures of urban liberalism, he made damn sure his staff got out there too. I remember one particular tour of the Ellen Wilson project in Washington -- a serious disgrace surrounded in broad daylight by drug dealers that is, I believe, now gone. The entire department rocked, at times shell shocked, to Kemp's preaching of the gospel of capitalism and tax cuts.

The divo has fallen ill, but the show must go on. Who can take his place with only 45 minutes to rehearse?

This beautiful reflection from First Things comes to us via Amy Wellborn about the Notre Dame Scandal. Still the internal story is so lovely:

You see, I was three months pregnant.

That March, I had gone—alone—to a local woman’s clinic to take a test. The results were positive, and I was so numb I almost didn’t grasp what the nurse was getting at when she assured me I had “other options.” What did “other options” mean? And what kind of world is it that defines compassion as telling a young woman who has just learned she is carrying life inside her that she has the option to destroy it?

When I returned to campus, I ran to the Grotto. I was confused and full of conflicting emotions. But I knew this: No amount of shame or embarrassment would ever lead me to get rid of my baby. Of all women, Our Lady could surely feel pity for an unplanned pregnancy. I recalled her surrendered love to God’s invitation to become the home of the Incarnate Word. “Let it be done to me according to thy word,” she had said. In my hour of need, on my knees, I asked Mary for courage and strength. And she did not disappoint.

My boyfriend was a different story. He was also a Notre Dame senior. When I told him that he was to be a father, he tried to pressure me into having an abortion. Like so many women in similar circumstances, I found out the kind of man the father of my child was at precisely the moment I needed him most. “All that talk about abortion is just dining-room talk,” he said. “When it’s really you in the situation, it’s different. I will drive you to Chicago and pay for a good doctor.”

I tried telling him this was not an option. He said he was pro-choice. I responded by informing him that my choice was life. And I learned, as so many pregnant women have before and since, that life is the one choice that pro-choicers won’t support.

Still, I count myself lucky. I was raised by a mom and dad who marched for life—and who walked the walk when I needed them. However much I may not have wanted to embarrass them with my pregnancy, amid my troubles I always knew I had a priceless gift: a family that would welcome into their hearts the life that God had put in my womb.

It is a common and familiar story. People such as Fr. Jenkins do not understand that while they think they are not stepping on toes and being judgmental, they are not supporting the girls who look to the Church for comfort and support who choose to follow the Church's teaching.

My brother sent me this email yesterday which kind of freaked me out. Be warned, it is a bit disturbing, so if all you need to hear is "those guys really need our prayers and support"...you get the picture:

Viewing the other marines or other people is something you do because you want to see how everyone is doing.

Larry* came the other day, I feel real bad for him. They stuck him at this camp in the middle of no where with just him and this other marine. He told me he would go on top of the roof and he could see right outside the wire and it will be very quiet all the time. The marines back in 2003 plowed that whole village down and built a base on top of it. Larry got really affected from KV by being alone because he had to live and watch the post office that was his duty. So he told me he would get scared because the post office was an easy target and it was just him and the other marine. Larry will send the marine home to another section on base while he would stand duty every night. At that time he would get very lonely. Anyways they moved him to TQ where i am at. He comes to me and tells me all of his problems. I feel really bad because he looks very depressed.

Larry moved in with me and wouldn't leave me alone he followed me everywhere, needed someone to talk to we stayed up till 0200 talking. Finally he fell asleep and I am up writing this. Loneliness can be very hard and it affected Larry.

Please pray for George* he is having his first child in May and came here to support his family because Marines get paid more when they are out here. The other night George* had duty and the Marine living next door to him shot himself. George* was ordered to clean up all of his remains and it really affected him. He hasnt been the same and he needs our prayers.

Baghdad is getting hit real hard, real hard just look at the news. The other day I saw these Marines talking and one of the Marine was depressed because his mom is dying and he wants to be there with her. Anyways Billy Blanks came today the tai bo guy and this morning i saw him when I was walking to work, he looked at me and I looked at him. We both nodded at each other and I walked on to go to work. The other night this marine sang a song being out in the dessert. He was a grunt singing about his friends dying in front of him and being trapped in this hellish land. This Marine also sang about his son who is 5 years old and his son wrote him a letter. The letter said "I miss you daddy a lot, don't worry about us I am taking care of mommy for you and I love you." I hear a lot of people say well it is your choice that is why we are here right? Yes it is our choice but this choice is about sacrifice so you can sacrifice yourself so your loved ones wouldn't have to do what you do.

------------------------------------------------------------

*changed names to respect privacy