Friday, January 30, 2009

that superbowl ad

A number of bloggers are upset because NBC rejected the pro-life Superbowl ad. I'm not. I've seen the ad and I honestly can't say that it impressed me. It uses the Beethoven argument:Don't abort that baby, he might grow up to become something great. Yes, your husband ran like a bandit, and yes you've had to dump your kid on your parents to raise but hey, he might grow up to be president. Um no. 99% of the babies born today won't be another Beethoven and they won't be president. They'll have an IQ of somewhere between 85 and 100 and be plain ole average if they're lucky.

How about don't abort that kid becuase he's a human being and thou shalt not murder an innocent. And while you're at it dear, do the second great thing you can do for your child after sparing his life; give him a chance to be happy and sane. Put him up for adoption.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

love and marriage and the bright young things

On Dawn Eden's blog there's a discussion about love and marriage. As I read the comments I was inclined to wonder if any of these earnest youngsters have ever loved deeply or if any of them is married. Besides Holy Orders, marriage is one of the greatest adventures a human being could ever go on. You take two people with all their warts, quirks and sins and God willing, they become a functioning unit. It's amazing.

I've heard many people talk about how hard marriage is. I've never found it so, mainly because Rocky is a good guy. When he and I went to St. Ignatius and knelt before Fr. Werner (RIP) and heard him say the vows and we repeated them I knew this was forever.

When there is no other option you adapt, improvise and overcome obstacles on the road you're traveling. You realize that he's a big guy and expecting him to live with the dollhouse furniture you had when you were single is silly. So you buy a recliner and a big ugly sofa.

You learn that okay, so he leaves his socks everywhere-- he's not a selfish pig, he's just forgetful and you get over it. Pick the damn socks up, go on strike until he picks them up (warning: men can wait a long, long time) or spray a lot of air freshener until he gets the hint.

He learns that women need stuff. Your goose collection or that pink crystal chicken shaped candy dish is important to you so he lives with them. Besides the candy is good and it's kinda nice that it's in a dish instead of hidden in the sofa cushions. He not only puts up with your doll collection he goes down to the basement and builds you a doll case.

You learn that while your old lifestyle may've been fun and your family are what they are, the most important thing in the world after God is your husband and if those other things harm your marriage they have to be ruthlesslessly dealt with. And if you're a grown woman you do it.

He discovers much to his delight and amazement that he'd rather watch TV with you than go dirt bike racing every weekend with his single friends. You discover that you really never wanted to go to Paris and eat snails and fish eyes with Jeanne Claude. Meatloaf with your husband is far better. You both grow up like two trees that have wrapped around each other and are stronger together than you ever would've been apart.

The bright young things on Dawn Eden wonder if romantic love is even needed for a successful marriage. No, its not. And if you are a working class or poor girl who is lucky enough to have a choice between a good, kind man who loves you and has a job or a smokin' hot guy who's living the thug life you'd better run as fast as you can to the nice guy. Run!

I know a man who no longer feels passion for his difficult wife but stays because he made a promise. In hindsight they weren't suited to one another and should not have married in the first place. He's never going to look at his wife the way he used to but she's the mother of his kids, the queen of his house and the center of the pretty decent life he has. They are not Brad and Angie. The husband is no saint--yet but I think Sts. Monica, Rita, and Blessed Elizabeth LeSeur would understand him and are on his side. Not bad company at all.

But romantic love is not to be totally scorned as the kids in the Dawn Eden post seem to be doing. To feel like steel wool touched to a battery about your own dear spouse and have it be blessed by God is a lovely gift.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

SSPX Bishop Williamson drops a turd in the punchbowl

The Holy Father has lifted the SSPX excommunications. He's held his hand out in loving compassion. Now the SSPX has to respond. One of the first things they have to do is make a decision: Do they want to remain sitting on a hill watching the battle or do they want to provide reinforcements? Part of that decision is figuring out what to do about Bishop Williamson.

Bishop Richard Williamson, who I swear does more to turn people off from the traditionalist movement than anybody I can think of, has done it again. He gave an interview for Swedish TV back in November and apparently denied that any Jews died in gas chambers during the Holocaust.

Well now. Bishop Williamson has a right to his bizarre opinions but let us remember that some opinions are like jock itch. You have may have it but nobody really wants to hear about it. This interview is just like the old high school prank of going to the prom and sneaking a turd into the punchbowl.

Bishop Williamson's opinions make all of the priests and laity of the SSPX look bad. I'm afraid that the media, which is how most people get their information will use Williamson's interview to paint an ugly picture of everyone who loves the TLM.

If Bishop Fellay and the other leaders of SSPX are serious about normalizing their status within the Church they need to suggest that Bishop Williamson get a new pet subject to talk about in public. Something safe like beekeeping. Or better yet, how about getting him to retire?

Well, it's not a retirement but Bishop Fellay has rebuked Bishop Williamson and somebody got Williamson to write an apology letter.

Dedicated to all those who fight the good fight

Hold your grandmother's bible to your breast
Gonna put it to the test
You wanted it to be blessed
And in your heart
You know it to be true
You know what you gotta do
They all depend on you
And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end
There is no escape
From the slave catcher's songs
For all of the loved ones gone
Forever's not so long
And in your soul
They poked a million holes
But you never let them show
Come on its time to go
And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end
Now you've seen His face
And you know that there's a place in the sun
For all that you've done
For you and your children
No longer shall you need
You always wanted to believe
Just ask and you'll receive
Beyond your wildest dreams
And you already know
Yet you already know
How this will end
You already know (You already know)
You already know (You already know)
You already knowHow this will end
How it Ends... by Devotchka

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

When Jesus Came to Birmingham

When Jesus came to Golgotha, they hanged Him on a tree,
They drove great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary;
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days, and human flesh was cheap.
When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by.
They would not hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die;
For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain.
Still Jesus cried, 'Forgive them, for they know not what they do, '
And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through;
The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall, and cried for Calvary.

G. A. Studdert-Kennedy

Sunday, January 18, 2009

the old town's gone crazy

The big boys at my firm decided at the last minute to give us all the day off for the ignaugural. Thank God! I was not looking forward to struggling to get to work on a train jammed full of tourists. I intend to spend the day in bed with a book. DC is very, very strange right now. I've never seen such wild adoration before for any president. Obama's posters are everywhere. I'm not just talking about the vendors selling shirts. There are Obama window displays in the better clothing and jewelry stores up and down Connecticut Ave to Georgetown. One of my favorite stores has a huge glass sculpture of Obama in the window. It's all too Dear Leaderish for my liking.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Inspectors can be fooled

The Vatican has released a report on American seminaries that says they are generally healthy. I would be happy about this if I didn't remember Sr. Veronica Marie. Years and years ago when I was in grade school we had a nun who wasn't like the rest. Her hems were shorter than the other nuns. Her veil showed more hair than all the others. She didn't wear her rosary on her belt either. In gym class she wore sweats and and a scowl. Then one day Sr. Veronica Marie showed up at school in her full habit. You know why? Because the Mother Superior of her order was making a visit. The whole time Mother Superior was there Sr. VM was in her habit and looked as pious as my nun dolls. The day after Mother Superior left to check on another school somewhere else Sr. Veronica Marie was back in her old clothes.

The last time I saw her she was a principal at a boy's school which was a good place for her as I'd always gotten the impression that she didn't like girls much. She'd stopped wearing the mini veil altogether and looked more like your cranky old feminist aunt than a nun. I'll never know what Mother Superior thought of her visit but I'm willing to bet that she probably looked at Sr. VM and thought 'Nope, nothing wrong here.'

Thursday, January 15, 2009

dreher, french mass, doubt and spiritual weaklings

I was going to write something about Rod Dreher then I decided not to. There's nothing charitable or lovely I could say and so I'll attempt to be a domina and pass.

Instead, take a peek at this. It is so cold in this French cathedral that you can see the priest's breath when he spoke! And yet, people were there. They are SSPX but so what? If people rolling around and shrieking in tounges and dancing girls are welcome at our parishes I can't bring myself to pick on people who just want to worship the way their ancestors did.

There's a scene in Doubt where the nun tells the mother of the boy who is being molested what is going on. The mother says she knows her 12 year old is homosexual and that the boy's father is a brute so she's just grateful that the priest is a kind influence. Oh hell no. I can not imagine a black woman in the 50s having that reaction. If someone had said this to my granny she would've had a conversation with her menfolk and a "visit" would've been paid to the offenders house.

Rocky said that there were only three people at bible study last night. It was 25 degrees but he was disgusted. Christians have risked their lives to go Mass and still do in places like Saudi Arabia and these comfortable, well to do suburbanites couldn't even go to a heated room to drink coffee and discuss the gospel among other Catholics.. because it's cold outside.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

I'm feeling grumpy this morning

I was reading (for the absolutely last time) a blog written by a guy who lives up North somewhere. He was bitching about the old people in his parish who frowned at his loud offspring. He stated that his kids are the future (oh that's deep-- somebody call Whitney Houston) and will replace these annoying old folks when they die. Maybe. But probably not. If his kids turn out like the average young Catholic they'll bug out as soon as they turn 18 and head to college. I've known kids who's parents didn't make them go to Mass regularly once they got confirmed. They went to gymnastics, or ball practice or the swim team instead. The kids may come back years later or not.

Don't be so smug Mr. Yankee. One day, if you're lucky you will get old and as you hobble to Mass on aching feet and swollen ankles don't be shocked if the bright young things in the pews push past you to get to their seat, frown at you becuase you don't realize that you're going deaf and are talking too loud, nearly run you over in the parking lot, and aren't shy about wishing that you'd shut up and die already.

Jesus said to let the kids come visit Him. He did not say disrepect the elderly. That old coot in the pew behind you is a child of God too.

calm down and thank God

Everybody from the ninnies on the nightly news to your annoying neighbor Gladys needs to calm the heck down. We are not in Great Depression II. Don't be a Peggy Noonan. This morning when you went to take your bath or shower did you go to your bathroom or did you make your way to the river? Did you flush a toilet today or do you need to empty your chamber pot tonight? Do you have a refrigerator or does your kid have to go the snow covered root cellar? Do you have a place to live? I'm not asking if it's an overpriced mini mansion that cost far more than it's worth. Do you have a safe, clean place to live or is the tribe next door a constant threat?

When your daughter gets her first period are you planning on selling her off to the highest bidder? When you get sick do you go to a doctor or does your husband kill a goat as payment to the local witch doctor? If you miscarry will your husband comfort you or will he kill you? Did your 10 year son go to football practice after school or is he working the evening shift at the rug factory? Is your teenager lying on the couch eating Oreos or is she following (not too closely!) behind an elephant to gather its manure to sell as fuel in the market?

We are the luckiest most spoiled, whiny people in the world. We, and England have obese poor people. Our rich and middle class have so much leisure time that they make up false illnesses for themselves and their children. We can afford to take care of the foolish, selfish and lazy with welfare payments. We give women apartments if they get pregnant out of wedlock.

Yes, things are going to be painful for a while and yes, people have lost jobs and houses but damn, we all need a reality check.

Monday, January 05, 2009

I don't get it

I was reading a traditionalist minded blog today and was perplexed at the amount of Jew hatred the blogger seemed to express. This particular blogger is a young man with a family and boy do I feel sorry for his wife. His attitude was not unique. I've been to two Catholic forums and both had ugly things to say about Jews in America and Israelis. What's up with this? How do these Catholics go to Mass and face Jesus, who chose to be a Jewish man and pray to his dear mother, a Jewish woman and live with themselves?

Saturday, January 03, 2009

random, raggedy New Year's thoughts

  • Whenever someone writes or talks about their "faith journey," my immediate mental reaction is "Oh man, who farted?"

  • If Henry Ford hadn't been such a mean old bastard to his employees we might not have the UAW today.

  • Whenever someone bemoans the fact that modern Catholics don't evangelize I want to ask, "Dude, evangelize into what?" The average American Catholic is a Romanized Protestant. He doesn't even know his Faith and has been taught that every body's faith journey (see above) leads to God and that the church was wrong about darn near everything until 1962.

    He spends his time working on social justice issues (making an ass-nuisance of himself at the local military base, or handing out turkeys that he didn't buy at the local shelter once a year, or smiling inanely when the gay lector kisses his boyfriend in front of the church) instead of adoration because that's old fashioned. He laughs at his relatives who still wear a scapular and has two or more Obama stickers on his car. If you asked him to pray the rosary with you he'd probably decline because it takes too long. How the heck is this guy supposed to evangelize?

  • I think the reason why the people in so many Northern Virginia parishes are rude is because they're mostly government workers who just moved here and don't have any manners.

  • The saddest thing about this photo is that apparently not one New Yorker walked up to the illiterate savage and took the sign away.

  • Muslim immigration ought to be cut or at least severely cut down and while we're at it; legal immigration from countries that have nothing in common with ours should be cut out. A few years ago the Episcopalians brought a huge number of Somali refugees to my neighborhood. It was horrible. These poor people had never seen a toilet or sink or stove before.

    The fire department had to come once and sometimes twice a week because of all the fires. It was dangerous and unpleasant. Standing around in your nightclothes at 2 in the morning because the Somali lady next door tried to cook her goat the way she was used to at home was not fun. Plus beating one's wife or cutting up a daughter's clitoris and leering at American women going to the pool are not acceptable here. My neighbors raised a huge stink and the Somalis vanished. I have no idea where they were resettled but I don't think the Episcopalians will pull this trick again here.

  • Isn't it odd how everybody wants to be a Eucharistic minister but nobody is around to help Fr. carry the donated canned goods to the church pantry?

  • I wish Caroline Kennedy took more after her Bouvier blood than the Kennedy side.

  • I have a feeling that on January 21st, the media will start writing stories claiming that everything is great and that Americans are just being whiny, racists if they don't agree.

  • The meanest thing this country ever did to black people after the Jim Crow laws was the War on Poverty. Easy welfare unmanned the black man, turned him into a stud and forced the black woman into being superwoman---most black mothers have no husband and are told by our toxic culture and the country that sends the welfare check/snare-- that they don't need one anyway.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Mary, the Mother of God

Rocky had to go into work early today so we went to the 5PM vigil Mass at St. Matthew's Cathedral in DC. It's our old parish. The cathedral was beautiful. If you're in DC this week you should stop by. Mnsgr. Jameson was in fine spirits and came over to wish us a happy new year. Rocky got to usher and it was nice seeing old friends. Fr. Knestout, the brother of Bishop Knestout celebrated the Mass. He added a few things that are not in the missal and he felt the need to stand in the middle of the sanctuary and deliver his homily like a performer in the middle of a stage. The saving grace was that it was a good, homily. I guess he couldn't help the showmanship. Maybe that's what his generation of seminarians was taught and it's ingrained in him.

The music was very good-- we had the head organist and he can really make that old organ strut, but we couldn't figure out why the heavily pregnant and visibly drawn and tired cantor had to walk across the altar to sing the psalms and then back to her place to sing the rest of the music for Mass. The liturgist in charge of this mass should've given the poor lady a break.

We went home, had a glass of Asti and went to bed. Happy New Year.
This lovely image came from the 50 Days After blog.