Meanwhile, At My Father’s Former Employer

Two longtime workers dead at Roundy’s Distribution Center in Oconomowoc; suspect takes own life after chase, crash:

Two longtime workers were killed inside the sprawling Roundy’s Distribution Center and the suspect later died by suicide following a car crash in Milwaukee, authorities said Wednesday.

Law enforcement officials skimped on details, but the deaths sent a shock wave through the small suburban community and reminded people across the region of other incidents of workplace violence, especially the deadly shootings at the Molson Coors brewery just over a year ago.

Two law enforcement sources identified the suspect as Fraron Cornelius, 41, of Wauwatosa. A union official said Cornelius had worked at the facility for around 20 years.

Although, to be honest, my father worked for Roundy’s when its warehouse was in Wauwatosa. It moved out to Oconomowoc after he passed away.

When I was living with him, I worked at a Roundy’s-supplied grocery store, so he would sometimes write messages on the pallets coming to my store. Of course, when he would go on strike or get locked out, I’d cross the picket lines to go to work.

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Already Seen It

Oscar Mayer Weinermobile returns to Springfield! Here’s where to find it:

The Oscar Mayer Weinermobile is rolling through the Springfield area over the next few days.

Oscar Meyer has six weinermobiles touring the country year-round. From Thursday to Saturday, the hot dog on wheels makes it first visit to the Springfield area since 2019.

Spoiler alert: The first stop, yesterday, was at the Walmart on Kearney which lies between the Air and Military Museum of the Ozarks and ABC Books.

So we saw it on our excursion yesterday that took us from one to the other.

The boys, who are young men now, were so excited to see it that they were boys again briefly.

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One, Two, Three, To The Zoo Perhaps For The Last Time

Spring break: Yesterday, we went to the Dickerson Park Zoo, the Springfield Parks zoo.

You know, I might have only taken my boys to the zoo three times: Once in Saint Louis, with my brother and his wife and his son when my oldest was two. I have pictures of only the oldest, so I don’t know if the youngest, who would have been one, stayed home or was in a stroller and therefore not in many pictures. I remember the boy in the pictures and short videos, though, saying “There he is! There he is! There he is!” when spotting the black rhino for the first time and bending in half at one point while walking to lick the pavement–perhaps the paint looked like candy or frosting to him then.

I took them a couple years back (a couple being, let me do the math, six) when I had more free time in my schedule, again. Few photos exist of that excursion, as the number of photos we take of the boys has diminished over time. Which is odd, because now we carry the equivalent of a camera anywhere. I just don’t like to take out my phone in situations, perhaps, where I would not have minded pulling out a dedicated camera.

After we parked and as we crossed the parking log, the oldest said, “Aren’t you going to say ‘1, 2, 3, to the zoo?'” As I mentioned, I used to say this when they were younger when it was time for us to go somewhere–it’s the title of an Eric Carle counting book.

The boys were old enough now to go romp on their own, and they did, moving more quickly than my beautiful wife and I did among the elephants. The single Asian elephant at the zoo–it is a big zoo for a small city, but it’s a relatively small zoo–started out at the far end of its enclosure, but my wife talked to it and it slowly, nonchalantly approached us, taking a step, eating a couple snootfuls of some of the emerging greenery, and then taking another step, until it took a close look at us, posed for a picture, and then moved quickly away.

The boys, moving faster than we did, moved quickly through the exhibits and rejoined us for our last continent, Africa. They fed the giraffes, and we got to the enclosure of the Black and White Colobus (Colobi? Colubuses?).

C’mon, man. The zoo has Squirrel Monkeys and a Spider Monkey (no spider monkey puppy, though), but the fact that these creatures are called black and white colobusesi and not skunk monkeys is proof that they were named by scientists and not explorers or conquistadores.

At any rate, the zoo has a whole troop of them. They started inside their little enclosure, but a couple of them came out, and when the alpha male spotted my oldest, who was dressed in black and white, he (the skunk monkey male) came out, showed his genitals to my son, and then sat right in front of him, baring his teeth (but not his boy parts) because, I guess, he thought my oldest was another skunk monkey looking for a ready-made harem.

At any rate, or at least the rate we’ve been going, this is probably the last trip to the zoo we will take as a family. Until grandkids, maybe. On the plus side, I did not let the double-effect narrator, the part of me that knows this is the last time to overwhelm the day.

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Sad Trombone Sound For Chicago

Apparently, the Bears have another new old quarterback to lead them to further mediocrity, and Greg Couch at OutKick is unsympathetic:

The Chicago Bears will announce today that they have signed some guy named Andy Dalton. From here on, I’m going to refer to him simply as Some Guy.

Some Guy ends the era of Mitch Trubisky, who Bears general manager Ryan Pace traded up for in the draft. He picked Trubisky over Patrick Mahomes and Watson. Trubisky failed for four years.

Yes, I know who Some Guy is. For years, he was Cincinnati’s Trubisky. They stuck with him even longer than the Bears stuck with Trubisky. Some Guy then went to Dallas last year where he continued to be faceless and nameless.

The Bears didn’t want Some Guy. They wanted The Guy. Chicago is the black hole of NFL quarterbacks. It’s where quarterback careers go to die. The Bears haven’t had a real quarterback for 70 years, other than a few years of Jim McMahon 35 years ago.

Unfortunately, it probably won’t be a long-term thing, unlike the Jay Cutler or Mitch Tnopointnowinlearningtospellitsky things.

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Meanwhile, On My Block

Driver rescued after car is swept into Wilsons Creek
:

A man was rescued from the top of his car after it was swept into Wilsons Creek Tuesday night.

It happened along Wilson Road on the southern edge of Wilson’s Creek National Battlefield, between Clever, Mo. and Republic, Mo.

I have mentioned that I sometimes walk or run around the block across the street, which is 4.2 miles around and comprises a couple farm roads and a state highway. Well, the block I live on backs up to the Wilson’s Creek National Battlefield, and so to go completely around my block, you have to go something like 8.5 miles if you skip the cul de sacs, and it not only has a state highway (albeit one with a wide shoulder) and a farm road with lots of wooded curves with low visibility and narrow bridges, but it also has this low water crossing (basically, a ford–a bridge that is under water to some degree most of the time) that can turn your run into a dangerous duathlon quickly.

I’ve never tried that crossing on foot or in a car, and I’m not likely to try it any time soon, either.

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When You Succeed, They Walk Away

Light posting this week; it’s Spring Break for my boys, and since my schedule is more self-determined this year than in the previous three years of consulting on contracts with strict hours, I am spending most of the days with my boys.

We’ve gone fishing, and we’ve gone to the Springfield Nature Center so far. You know, ever since they could walk, we’ve been going to the Nature Center. A couple of times a year in the old days. I think we’ve skipped some years, but we went last summer and again this year. There’s a bench on the Fox Bluff trail that I insist they sit on every time, so I have a series of pictures that shows them growing up. Aside from that, the only pictures I tend to get are when I drop behind them and catch them as they walk.

You start out carrying them.
Then you ‘walk’ them by pushing them in wheeled conveyances.
The you walk with them, ever faster.
Eventually, they want to walk on their own, a little ahead or a little behind you, because they’re big enough to do that now, but still close.
Then, if you succeed as a parent, they walk away.

I wonder if there’s a poem in that, or if it’s too true for poetry.

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I’d Rather Not Carry The One

Apparently, the musical fiscal year has changed or something–the local Jack radio station (best of the 80s, 90s, and today, where “today” presumably covers the last twenty years) has started playing some different songs–which I will hear over and over as I work the dial for the next year.

Including “Unskinny Bop” by Poison:

Eesh, that song is from Flesh and Blood. In 1990. That song is 31 years old.

I saw Poison twice on that tour: Once at the Milwaukee Arena with Warrant and once at Summerfest.

I need to refactor my listening to contemporary music and to old music from the 1940s through the 1960s and leave a big doughnut hole in the playlist for the music from when I was young because the calculations are making me feel my age.

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On History’s Great Military Blunders and the Lessons They Teach by Professor Gregory S. Aldrete (2015)

Book coverI borrowed this set of lectures from the library because I was getting bogged down in the Buddhism lecture series I popped in to break up the Great Masters of music biographies I’d been listening to (and which I’ll be listening too again, and more, as I received others in the line for Valentine’s Day and for my birthday last month).

Purportedly, the point of the lectures is to study these stories and analyze what causes great military failures, and they boil down to a couple of obvious things: Failure in planning, failure in execution, overconfidence, unclear orders, unclear chains of command, lack of cooperation between rival commanders or branches of service, failure to adapt to conditions, failure to recognize failure and to cut the losses.

But, really, come on. It’s really an excuse to talk about battles in history. The aural equivalent of coffeebook tables about war. Something to browse with one’s ears whilst driving the kids to and from school. And, to be honest, I kind of get to my boy’s school early for car line/to pick the other up from activities so I can listen to lectures like these. Lectures on Buddhism–eh, not as much.

The lectures include:

  1. Petersburg: Union Digs Its Own Grave
  2. Syracuse: Athens’s Second Front–413 B.C.
  3. Carrhae: The Parthian Shot–53 B.C.
  4. Red Cliffs: Cao Cao’s Bad Day–208 A.D.
  5. Barbarian Gate: Adrianople–378, Pliska–811
  6. The Fourth Crusade: Byzantium Betrayed–1204
  7. Kalka River: Genghis Khan’s General–1223
  8. Courtai: Knights versus Shopkeepers–1302
  9. Nagashino: Taking Swords to a Gunfight–1575
  10. Cartagena: High Walls, Short Ladders
  11. Culloden: The Bonnie Prince Blunders–1746
  12. Russia: Napoleon Retreats in the Snow–1812
  13. Afghanistan: Khyber Pass Death Trap–1842
  14. Crimea: Charge of the Light Brigade–1854
  15. Greasy Grass: Custer’s Last Stand–1876
  16. Isandlwana: 25,000 Zulus Undetected–1896
  17. Adwa: Italy’s Fiasco in Ethiopia–1899
  18. Colenso: The Second Boer War–1899
  19. Tannenberg: Ineptitude in the East–1914
  20. Gallipoli: Churchill Dooms Allied Assault–1915
  21. World War II: Royal Navy Goes Down–1941-42
  22. Dieppe Raid: Catastraphe on the Beach–1942
  23. Operation Market Garden: A Bridge Too Far–1944
  24. The Great Blunders: Four Paths to Failure

It’s a broad sampling throughout history which kind of gives one some reminders and/or insight into different epochs. I mean, I was familiar with Custer’s Last Stand and the Charge of the Light Brigade, for example, and I have a contemporaneous book about Napoleon’s incursion into Russia that I might want to dig out and read. As I mentioned, the battle of Carrhae was mentioned in The Judgment of Caesar, so I felt smart knowing it from these lectures before I read that book.

Each lecture gives a bit of the history leading up to the battle followed by the battle itself, so each is a self-contained narrative that holds together individually. One thing that struck me, though, is that each of the stories is about groups of people in conflict, but in the lectures on Americans vs. Native Americans and Europeans vs. Africans (Isandlwana and Edwa), the lecturer took time to offer judgment against the Americans or Europeans for their policies that led to the battle. I don’t know if the judgment was lighter in other lectures or if I have just turned into one of those bean counters in the 21st century. But here we are.

At any rate, a fun, informative listen that really didn’t make me a better student of military tactics or strategy. All I know is that some of those poor bastards were doomed at the outset of their maladventures due to very poor planning on the parts of their leadership. Which makes some of these stories tragic more than heroic.

But enough of the fun stuff: it’s back to the Buddhism for me.

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Meanwhile, Close To Home

Runner struck by projectile at Battlefield, Mo. park:

The Battlefield Police Department is trying to figure out what hit and injured a runner Thursday at a city park.

Police say a runner was on the track that circles the city park, then struck by some kind of projectile. That person went to the hospital Thursday with minor injuries and has since been released.

Hopefully, we’ll see a follow-up story. This really does nothing but lead to questions. What kind of projectile? Nerf dart? A crossbow bolt? A BB? A pellet from a pellet gun? Did the runner possibly know whomever fired it?

This park is only a couple miles up the road from me; my boys walk to it from time to time. It’s attached to the Battlefield City Hall and Police Department. It is quite likely just as safe as it ever has been, but incomplete stories like this lead to inchoate fear.

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When Does “No” Really Mean “Yes”?

When a twentyager Internet content generator wants to OWN! the Religious Right!

Fetal Cell Lines Were Used to Make the Johnson & Johnson COVID Vaccine—Here’s What That Means

Two LSU employees had troubling records. Many ask why they’re not fired.
Former Fox host Eric Bolling considering congressional campaign

Earlier this week, the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of New Orleans urged its parishioners to avoid the Johnson & Johnson vaccine, calling it “morally compromised” because it was developed and tested using cells derived from aborted fetal tissue, reported NBC News on March 2.

The stance conflicts with that of the Vatican, which said in December that it was “morally acceptable” for Roman Catholics to receive any COVID-19 vaccine, even one based on research that originally used cells derived from aborted fetuses.

If you don’t have a solid grasp of human biology, this is where it gets pretty confusing. To be clear, there are no vaccines that involve stem cells from aborted fetuses.

Please, help confuse things further.

Johnson & Johnson confirmed in a statement released Tuesday that the vaccine formula itself includes no fetal tissue. So what does make their COVID-19 vaccine so much more controversial than the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines?

The particular cells that are involved in the Johnson & Johnson vaccine are called PerC6 cells. “These are retinal cells that came from a fetus that was aborted in 1985 in the Netherlands, which were treated in the lab to allow them to reproduce in lab settings since that time,” Barker explains.

Okay, so the cells used in the vaccine were the product of aborted fetus cells, not directly aborted fetus cells. So there’s not fresh aborted babies in each dose, much to Planned Parenthood’s chagrin–there go the profits!

But, truly, the unsigned author of this piece has a dizzying intellect, capable of narrowly tailoring definitions to get exactly the explanation he or she wants, regardless of whether it’s completely true or not.

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Book Report: Mission: Impossible by Peter Barsocchini (1996)

Book coverI don’t want to make you feel old, old man, but this novelization is from the first Mission: Impossible movie which came out 25 years ago. I mean, I was still working in a printing plant. Five years later, when I worked for my first start-up around the turn of the century, I had the audiocassette single of the theme song from the movie queued up, and if someone asked for something outlandish, I’d ask them to wait a minute, and I would play the cassette while they asked. Here we are, twenty years later, and I’m reading the paperback novel of the film because some such movie novelizations percolated to the top of my to-read shelves while I was looking for something else recently. Meanwhile, the 7th film in the series is scheduled for release this year, but probably not to theatres. Somehow, Tom Cruise has not aged, unlike the rest of us.

At any rate, the plot: The IMF finishes an op in Russia and immediately heads to Prague to hunt for a mole who might be selling the list of Eastern European covert agents. The mission goes South, and the team is killed. Ethan Hunt, the only surviving member of the team, is accused of being the mole, but manages to escape and recruit a team to clear his name. To do so, he must meet a shady information broker, to whom he promise to sell the worldwide covert operative list for $10 million and for the person who was going to sell the other list–the mole who got his team killed.

A couple of set pieces later, and a couple of outrageous stunts in the movie later, Ethan discovers the mole was closer than he thought.

A quick read, but it suffers from the pacing problems I noted in Alien Nation and a bunch of Executioner novels that are written from provided outlines: A lot of development in the first half, but then the book runs through set pieces to end quickly. I haven’t seen the film in ages–perhaps twenty-five years–but I don’t remember the Prague elimination of the team taking up half the movie.

Also, SPOILER ALERT, but the book uses a limited omniscient narrator who peeks into the heads of the people and tells what they’re thinking at times. Which is cheating the reader badly when it dwells for chapters on Jim Phelps, the leader of the IMF team, and SPOILER ALERT, I REPEAT, who is eventually revealed to be the mole along with his wife and other team member Claire, and none of his thoughts are about his plans to betray his team. For Pete’s sake, that’s some cheating right there. In the movie, you don’t get that interior life, so it works better. A straight third person narration would have served better. However, it couldn’t have provided the depth in the characters, even though some of that depth was the false bottom in a briefcase.

At any rate, I did mark a couple of things for the quibbles section.

Where The Wisconsinians Go

He’d been making serious judgment calls his entire life. Bachelor’s degree from Wisconsin State University, master’s from Princeton, FBI training, CIA training, special tactics and forces training, special weapons training, advanced linguistics and electronics. Ethan knew his judgment calls were not pulled out of thin air. They were based on solid training and field experience, not to mention the stability of a strong family background.
He’d grown up on a farm not far from Madison, Wisconsin, the only child of devoted parents who recognized early on that their son was exceedingly bright.

Given the proximity to Madison, I believe that the author means the University of Wisconsin. When I was attending the premier university in Wisconsin, not far from University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, I liked to call it University of Wisconsin-Madison to take the flagship state university down a peg. But I would not have called it Wisconsin State University.

Although I understand changing the names of universities for some prestige reason was a thing for a while. Maybe the author was trying to get ahead of the curve here.

The Deep State As The Bad Guy
Phelps tries to name a civil servant as the mole:

Phelps went silent, brooding into his coffee. “When you think about it, Ethan, it was inevitable. No more Cold War. No more secrets you keep from everyone but yourself, operations where you answer to no one but yourself. The one morning, you wake up and find out the president of the United States is running the country–without your permission. The son of a bitch! How dare he? You realize it’s over, you’re an obsolete piece of hardware not worth upgrading, you’ve got a lousy marriage and sixty-two grand a year.”

The good news is that in the 21st century, we know that the President of the United States no longer runs the country. The last one couldn’t because of the resistance of the lifers, and the current one probably isn’t, either.

The 90s Ubiquity of Oprah

This book, like Alien Nation, refers to the all-powerful one:

“I told him not to hold his breath. Just chalk it all up as another sign of the decline of Western civilization.”
“He’d probably rather hear that from the president.”
“Exactly what he said to me. Maybe he’ll settle for Oprah.”

Twenty-five years later, she [Oprah] has just perhaps (the tabloids hope) aired the interview that might end the monarchy in Britain. Although, honestly, the tabs can’t hope it ends. Their stories of Katie Price (who?) won’t last forever.

Eight Track Technology
The books sometimes really tries to impress us with the latest technology, but it would better have served its own longevity to obscure the tech a bit (I did once write and sell, for money, an article to a writing magazine about how to avoid these pitfalls, although it was twelve years too late for this author). While talking about diskettes (instead of disks, which one could almost conflate with a CD or DVD or microdisc), while mentioning various architectures (unfortunately, probably from movie dialogue which needed preservation) to talking about laptops with PCMCIA cards–really, you’re dating it more than you have to.


Still, a quick thriller that made me wonder if I should pick up watching the movies. I am pretty sure that I saw the first and the second of these in the cinema, but I haven’t seen any of the other ones since then. Perhaps I should give them a try, but I already have a cabinet full of videocassettes and DVDs to get to.

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A Dispatch from Brian J.’s Musical Crushes, Thirty Years On

When talking about Milwaukee radio stations last week, Friar and I got to commenting on the Triplets, and I mentioned that, in researching my comment, I saw that they had released new music in the interim between my rounding out their then-complete catalog in 2015 and last week.

So I ordered a couple of their new CDs.

I ordered from their Web site, and they included a thank you note:

You know, if I traveled back in time to 1991 and said that, in the year 2021, Brian J., you will live in the country with a beautiful wife with a couple of kids, will hold a black belt in martial arts, will weigh almost 200 pounds, will do a couple of triathlons a year, but the country will have a pandemic where the government orders you to stay home and wear masks if you go out in public, and the Triplets will write you a card with hugs expressed in it, and I am pretty sure I would be nodding along right up until the last bit, which I would not believe at all.

Also, perhaps not the almost 200 pounds bit, either. Or the martial arts. You know, I would probably think me from the future was a liar. Or a cyborg or clone whose agenda was trying to manipulate me somehow into changing the course of history to its own advantage.

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Wonderlic Throws Brian J. Some Shade

So I’m taking the Wonderlic test as part of a recruitment process, and one of its personality sampling questions is this:

I would like to write a great novel or play. Agree | Neither Agree nor Disagree | Disagree

Ah, but I have already written a great novel and play.

I guess most people have to treat that question as a hypothetical.

But Wonderlic is saying that neither of them is great.

Perhaps I can agree if we use great to mean successful.

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Tiger Doesn’t Love F*ng Science

Endangered tiger dies during artificial insemination procedure at Colorado zoo:

nine-year-old female tiger, Savelii, has died due to complications from an important artificial insemination procedure at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado Springs Thursday. The zoo says it was part of a globally important reproductive effort to prevent extinction of the Amur tiger species.

For several months, the zoo had been working to breed Chewy, the male tiger, and Savelii naturally. Natural breeding for tigers can be precarious as it can often be aggressive and even result in death.

You know, there might be a metaphor for politically driven science in there somewhere.

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Milwaukee Brewers Catcher Does Good

Scouting for art, not ballplayers: 833 works from Ted and Maryanne Simmons go to St. Louis Art Museum:

In some baseball cities, after Cardinal Ted Simmons took off his catcher’s mitt, he put on a pair of white gloves.

He became friends with a museum docent near Philadelphia, a curator in Houston. They’d let him wear gloves to examine fine pottery or open an antique desk or cabinet to see it up close. “I wanted to hold that Paul Revere tankard in my hand,” he said.

In exchange, Simmons left tickets at will call so his museum friends could go to the Phillies’ or Astros’ stadium for a game.

A fair trade for a guy who, off the field, scouted art, not hitters.

Back home in St. Louis, he and his wife, Maryanne Ellison Simmons, would discuss and research art they wanted to buy. A married team for 50 years, their passion meant a home filled with beloved furniture and artwork.

Not a framed jersey to be seen.

“Collecting art enabled me and Maryanne to have a life separate from baseball,” Simmons said. Sports memorabilia was kept in the attic.

Now they are sharing their art: The St. Louis Art Museum has acquired 833 works, mostly contemporary prints but including drawings, collages and photographs.

Read the whole thing.

Although Ted Simmons also played for the St. Louis Cardinals, or so I heard, and lives in St. Louis, c’mon, man, to a boy growing up in the housing projects in Milwaukee in the early 1980s, he was a Brewer and was on the one team (one!) that went to the World Series. And lost to the Cardinals. Oh, how a Milwaukee boy born to a woman from St. Louis suffered. As did the neighbors on either side of the apartment in which we lived, as she would bang on the walls with a plastic baseball bat to let them know the Cardinals had scored a run.

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Book Report: The Biggest Lie in the History of Christianity by Matthew Kelly (2018)

Book coverMy wife spotted this book on my to-read shelves and brought it to my attention: I should read it soon, or it might disappear from my shelves. She has read other things by the author, a three-time cancer survivor, so that might be how she knows of him. So after I finished the Winter 2021 Reading Challenge, I picked it up.

It’s a contemporary Christian….self-help book? It’s in the vein of The Power of Positive Thinking or Eat the Cookie…Buy the Shoes with a bit of focus, I guess, on living as a Christian in the 21st century and helping to expand the Church’s reach/the power of the Church. The author is either first or also a business consultant, so it has a lot of focus on large-scale outcomes and uses the term continuous improvement referring to the experience of Christianity.

Spoiler alert: The biggest lie in the history of Christianity is that holiness, living a holy life, is impossible in the 21st century.

The book is a little bifurcated: He creates the concept of Holy Moments, essentially paying-it-forward by doing nice things for people to represent Christianity well, and then, rather unrelatedly, he then talks about The Church as if it’s some monolith that need Christians to band together to maximize its influence and whatnot. I am not sure that he leads from one to the other very well, and I’m not sure you can do that very well. I mean, Christianity is about one’s own relationship with Christ; once you start talking about the organization of the Church, especially as some ecumenical megalith, you start losing me.

He talks, briefly, about the Church doing a big thing, all Christians together:

Everybody knows the world needs changing. We may disagree with our non-Christian sisters and brothers about what changes are needed, but the need for change itself is indisputable. And so, the key to repositioning Christianity as an incredibly positive and powerful force in our culture is what I like to call a 100 percent issue. A 100 percent issue is one that no reasonable, rational man or woman of goodwill can disagree with. For example, I believe that no child in the United States should go to be hungry. That’s a 100 percent issue.

. . . .

If I said no American should go to bed hungry at night, it would no longer be a 100 percent issue. Some people would argue that many of the hungry and homeless are lazy, are voluntarily abusing substances, and have chosen the lifestyle they are living. They may be right. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter right now, because while some people may disagree about every American, everyone agrees that no American child should go hungry. This is a 100 percent issue, which means nobody can disagree with you without looking foolish at the very least.

Now, just one minute, Admiral. Before I, who might not be reasonable, rational, or of goodwill, will check those terms and conditions:

  • What is a “child”? Up to age 26 like a medical insurance dependent?
  • What is “hungry”? Hankering for a snack even though they’ve already had their necessary dietary needs met?
  • When, exactly, is going to bed going to occur? Must we guarantee that an eighteen-year-old who has been playing Far Cry for eighteen hours should have a banana at four o’clock in the morning?
  • Can parents opt out, or do reasonable, rational men or women of goodwill get to compel behavior?

The book and its conception of the Holy Moment can be useful as a frame of thinking of small acts of kindness that a Christian can perform every day to act more according to the teachings of the New Testament, but too often it kind of veers into the macro. Also, it really kind of goes from deontology–do good works because it’s the right thing to do or because it’s God’s will–to teleology–do good works to show everyone what good Christians do or to make the Church look good/broaden its power and influence. That is, do good with a worldly goal in mind.

So, yeah, not buying it.

At any rate, the book is only 114 pages, but it took a fair amount of themeatic repetition to get there. So I will mark this into my library database and annual reading total, but instead of onto the read shelves, I will probably pass it onto my wife. Perhaps she will enjoy it or get more from it than I.

Oh, and other things I marked upon which to comment:

Check Your Theology

Other common lies today include: Christians hate all non-Christians; Christians think everyone else is going to hell; smart people are not Christian; Christianity isn’t dying and won’t be around for much longer.

I disclaim that I did not even complete my (Catholic) theology minor at the university (I dropped Philosophy and Theology because it was an 8am class, had used all my absences by midterms, and thought I was getting a worse grade in it than I was), but I am pretty sure that the the only way to the Father is through the Son is still taken pretty seriously if not stridently. Some denominations in the diverse monolith that is the Church emphasize it more than others, but I’m not sure that those who have eliminated it constitute a majority. So it’s not a lie told about Christians.

Endymion Rears Its Head

This is a thing of beauty. The first line of John Keats’ poem Endymion reads: “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” A Holy Moment is a thing of beauty. The poem continues, “Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.”

The author here is referring to a good deed or a single action as a thing of beauty; however, Keats himself is referring to actual things:

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. 5
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways 10
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils 15
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
’Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms 20
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

Keats is talking about actual things, earthly things that one can enjoy, externally triggering joy, over and over again. Hey, I know the feeling. See also my preference for personal relics as physical triggers for memories I might not remember otherwise.

Also, this might be a good time to drop in a little design knock on this book. A lot of books have callouts, where they put little snippets of the text in a larger font on the page so you can remember it when you’re flipping back through the book or to emphasize a point. When I read books that use them, I skip the larger text because it’s generally a little aphorism out of context.

This book, however, puts whole paragraphs in larger font; text which does not otherwise appear, so they’re not callouts, they’re emphasized part of the text. The stuff the author would underline for you if he could, and it’s whole paragraphs.

I think that’s poor design. And you can take it to the bank since the closest thing I have to an official review of my last collection of poetry was the poetry sucks, but the design is awesome!

Take That, Pelagius

It is also important to note that we need God’s grace to create Holy Moments. We can’t do this alone. This is not self-empowerment.

I always feel smart when I can name the heresy.

Top-Down Approach

So, it is going to take a brilliant strategic effort to place Christianity back at the center of modern culture. But the most brilliant strategies are usually simple, and the simplicity at the center of whatever strategy we can all agree to adopt will be Holy Moments.

Again, this is the greatest dispute that I have with the book. It talks about doing good and being holy as part of a strategy with an earthly goal in mind. I think that any resurgence of Christianity and traditional morals must be a by-product of people just doing it, not the goal of a strategy.

Whoa, There, Joseph Smith

Kelly starts out a chapter called “Everyday Miracles” with a story that must be a parable, but:

A thousand years ago, a missionary was visiting a village on a small island deep in the Amazon, when he came upon three old friends talking, singing, and laughing.

I think the parable is about how the Church and its official emissaries cannot teach holiness to Christians who are already holy. I don’t think this squares with the Church having an official strategy. But I do know that missionaries weren’t visiting the Amazon a thousand years ago. The official Church wasn’t even going to retake the Holy Land in the Crusades yet, and Constantinople and the Byzantine Empire hadn’t fallen.

It’s a glaring mistake. But the book itself has a bit of a dashed-off quality.

It looks like the author dashes off a couple books like this every year. So that explains it.


So, a quick read. Not a lot of depth, just a couple of ideas repeated in various forms like motifs in a musical work. And little for me.

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So That’s Why The Wards of Iasos II Is Still “Coming Soon”

My bike shop posted a bit about someone losing weight riding bikes:

Hey, I know that guy. It’s the author of The Wards of Iasos Book 1: The Leftovers which I read in 2017. When I bought his first book in September 2017, I said:

I saw him at LibraryCon 2017, but he was speaking in a panel when I passed by his table on the way out, so I didn’t buy his book. I saw him and caught a little of a talk he gave at the Ozark Mini Maker Faire the next week. When I saw him yesterday at a table in Hollister, his old home town, I told him if he was going to keep following me to fairs and festivals, I’d buy his book. Now, when I see him around, I’ll remind him of that.

I would think he was stalking me to buy his second book, but:

  1. It’s not out yet after four years. But, Brian J., you haven’t self published a novel in almost ten years. Shaddup, italics voice. Shaddup.
  2. I don’t do the Bicycle Outlet Monday Night Rides because we only have a three bike mount for the back of a car, which means one of our family would have to ride out to Bicycle Outlet to join in and then back some seven or eight miles in the dark. As a result, currently, the family does the Friday night rides in Battlefield, which is only a couple of miles away.

Of course, this means I’ll be looking for him when the Friday night rides start up again, and I’ll have to start seeing him at events and hounding him for the next book in the series.

Which, truth be told, I’d only buy and throw on the stack.

The only local author I can look in the eye at the next LibraryCon, someday, is Joshua Chase Dodge Merrin. Because I’m way behind on Shayne Silvers and William Schilcter.

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