If You Want To Be Catholic

Some big news here in St. Louis this weekend: Archbishop Burke, the recent and short-term leader of the Catholic church in St. Louis, was told to take a new position in Rome. The paper and pseudo-Catholics in the region rejoiced, calmly, and the paper helpfully illustrated the things it ran full color spreads on during Burke’s tenure in the story Burke’s tenure here was never dull:

  • Archbishop Burke excommunicated a couple of women who started calling themselves Catholic priests and offering mass in a synagogue where they could get space. The paper runs their picture with the story about Burke to give a human face to his totalitarian enforcement of actual, you know, Catholic teaching and doctrine.
  • Archbishop Burke reallocated assets of the church, including a Polish parish named for St. Stanislaus. The lay board of the church said no thanks and brought in a rogue priest to run the church. The lay board was shocked to then discover that a priest who would defy the archbishop would also start doing other non-Catholic things, such as recognizing women priests.
  • Burke took actions in support of Catholic anti-abortion, anti-embryonic stem cell research teachings, shocking the “enlightened” society of St. Louis.

In other words, he followed the theological mandates of his church and its hierarchy.

However, some “Catholics” and the anti-churching amongst the journalistic set like to run pieces on the authoritarianism and the non-do-your-own-thing vibe of the Catholic church. They want to pick their beliefs and their attitudes from the salad bar of modern day life and still call themselves members of the group, no matter how few characteristics they share with the group. Or, I suppose, they want to tear down something greater than themselves to prove their own power.

You want the mass without the international heirarchy? Become a Lutheran. You want to control your own church and its funds? Join or start a storefront Baptist church. You want women ministers? Become a Unitarian or a Methodist or any of the other sects that have them. You want to worship by having sex with a priestess of Mother Gaia on Tuesday afternoons? Become governor of New York (or some other political office holder) and pay full price same as in town. But do not think that your inclinations are just as Catholic as John Paul II.

I’m not even Catholic, and the media stories offend me.

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Another Country Blonde

All right, all right, GAC and CMT: Julianne Hough is attractive:


You’re only playing her once an hour, so I get the point.

She’s also a young one, like Taylor Swift. What the heck is going on with country music turning into pop music with its focus on young stars? I wrote back in 2003 about how the charts were skewing younger, which meant that as I grew older, I couldn’t connect with the music since I was no longer 20 and in love for the first time.

Fortunately, country and western hasn’t gone that far yet. For every Hough and Swift, we still get some Trace Adkins, Montgomery Gentry, or oldsters like LeeAnn Rimes.

Hopefully, though, success will allow Hough to buy something to eat. She’s got blue eyes, blonde hair, pretty skin, and functional bones, but it looks like her man will have to do a lot of gratuitous lifting in their relationship.

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The Movie So Bad The Critics Forgot It

In a review of Hancock, St. Louis Post-Dispatch cinema critic Calvin Wilson tosses in this aside critical not of the movie, but of plebes who go to films for their own pleasure and not for edification through serious cinema:

That probably won’t bother the film’s core audience, which is happy to see Smith in just about anything except “Ali.”

Dude, they didn’t exactly clamor for The Legend of Bagger Vance either, ainna?

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No Accident Unpunished

The St. Louis Post-Dispatch performs its simple hard-hitting journalism in sounding an unnecessary klaxon calling for more government oversight and regulation. This time, again, a tragic accidental death of a child should lead (in a perfect Post-Dispatch world) to more government regulation and intrusion. The accident:

A year ago last Thursday the Blechas’ second son, Nathan, died at age 4 months in a portable crib in Lutz’s home, after being placed on his abdomen for a nap. The St. Louis County Medical Examiner’s office ruled the cause of death “re-breath,” the breathing in of carbon dioxide exhaled by the baby, who was too young to turn his head away from a wrinkle in the mattress.

The next day, Lutz shut the day care for good.

Here’s what we glean from the bits:

  • The death was an accident.
  • The caregiver, riven by guilt, left the profession the next day.
  • The paper is not reporting on an accident; instead, one year later, it’s reporting on the parents of the dead child and their crusade to Make Sure Their Child’s Death Was Not In Vain.

The call to government control:

According to state records, Lutz had obtained a license to cut hair and one to practice massage, but when it came to child care, she never applied to the Missouri Department of Health and Senior Services’ Child Care Regulation section. That’s the unit that inspects day cares and issues licenses for people routinely caring for more than four unrelated children.

Nathan’s parents say they have been waiting “for the system to kick in.” But nothing has happened: no criminal charges, no fines, no outrage and no reform of a child-care oversight system that the Blechas feel did little to prevent or recognize Nathan’s death.

Steve Blecha said he called the Jefferson County sheriff’s office early this year and was told the death had been ruled accidental.

He also learned that the most Lutz could be fined for operating without a license was $200 — a fine so small that Blecha said it didn’t matter that prosecutors didn’t pursue it.

Of course, the article goes into detail about how the government can only fine unlicensed day care facilities and cannot bring down the wrath of the gods upon them. I suppose the “journalists” and certainly the tragically affected parents would like MURDER ONE charges or something to make the people who’ve thought twice THINK TWICE about having accidents, but jeez.

A license probably won’t prevent every accident. It will, however, raise the cost of doing business as a baby sitter/day care, which in turn will drive out conscientious people who won’t pay the money. Then, when the people who cannot afford au pairs need to drop their kids off while they work, they will turn to less conscientious family members, and further accidents will occur.

I hate it when children die, but I also hate it when their deaths lead to knee-jerk statist action that will have unintended consequences worse than the initial accident precipitating the knee-jerk reaction.

But the papers? Man, they love standing up for the outlier since the little guys have already been accommodated.

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Party Hardy

…it is only those who half know a thing that write about it. Those who know it thoroughly don’t take the trouble.

           Thomas Hardy, A Pair of Blue Eyes

It does, however, keep the blogosphere humming along.

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Greetings from Snobopia

The lack of culture is showing:

At a recent ‘launch’ of the out-of-this world project, Edwards showed up in a space suit, complete with Moonrise Hotel flag and the theme song from 2001: A Space Odyessey blaring in the background.

If only that theme had a name and additional relevance besides inclusion in a late 20th century film.

Ah, who am I kidding? American cinema is the pinnacle of artistic expression and cultural significance.

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Anti-Obama?

Fla. vandals tag 60 cars with anti-Obama messages:

Police on Sunday were investigating vandals’ spray-painting of dozens of city vehicles here, some with disparaging messages about the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama.

Sounds like those racist Republicans, probably on purpose. But:

They even left business cards on the vehicles that disparage both the Illinois senator and his rival, Republican John McCain. The cards voice support for Sen. Hillary Clinton, Obama’s former opponent.

Fortunately, AP had one of its mysteriously present stringers on the scene:

Mike Lowe, a videographer working for The Associated Press, first told police about the damage. He saw three cars with anti-Obama messages, while the others were just heavily painted.

Wait, I thought the headline said sixty cars were tagged with anti-Obamaisms. Truth is, it’s only 3?

Can’t anyone report the events without “hedging” the language into utter falsehood?

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Don’t You Hate It When That Happens?

Ever find yourself wandering down the street, unable to name the three members of Exposé?

I mean, I got Gioia and Jeanette Jurado, but I forgot Ann Curless’s last name. For Pete’s sake, I used to have a poster of them on my wall, and I bought the special cassette single version of “What You Don’t Know” just for that poster.

I must be getting senile.

I’ll leave it to you to determine whether my lapse in memory is evidence or the fact that I freaking care 20 years later.

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Everything Is Better In Wisconsin

In Wisconsin, the sky is bluer, the grass is greener, and the flood waters are browner. And the clouds, they are bigger:



Wisconsin clouds
Click for full size photo

I guess I need to work on my image program’s color compression settings.

Still. I’m not kidding about the sky, by the way. The St. Louis area must have extra haze or something, because it has a slightly greyer cast to its sky than home.

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A Wedding Toast

Instead of making off with the rings and with the cash used to pay off the peripheral wedding personnel, I stayed and made this toast as best man:

To B—- and H—-. One a dreamer, one practical. Jane Austen would have called this a good match. Fortunately, we didn’t have to suffer through 300 pages of Victorian prose to celebrate with them today. Yesterday was the first day of summer, but today is the first day of their spring. May they have many seasons, many fruitful seasons, together.

Yeah, I know, Jane Austen was pre-Victorian. Nobody in the back of the bar in the middle of Wisconsin called me on it. Probably didn’t want to start an argument about Jane Austen on the big day.

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Good Book Hunting: June 28, 2008

Today J1 and my sainted mother and I hit some garage sales and estate sales because she desperately needs an Elvis on Velvet in the next week. The whole thing took on the feel of a weird MMORPG side quest, with this strange character wandering around asking all of the villagers about a Velvet Elvis, even when the people only displayed baby clothes and toys in their shops, as though the parser hearing the words would trigger them to tell my mother what cave to go to or would offer a special deal of the Elvis directly from their wall for a sum of silver. The only way it could have been more so, I suppose, was if she was asking for Velvet Elves.

Amid all of that and a bit of a spat between an estate sale “professional” and an estate sale buying aficionado over a mispriced bit of shelving, I found like four books for me and one for the Js inclusive:



Five books
Click for full size

That includes:

  • Two books in the Isaac Asimov Foundation series, I think; as you know, I read a couple of these on my honeymoon, lo those many years ago. I’ve forgotten how far into the series I got, so I’m gathering a bunch on my to-read shelves because I’m afraid I’ll skip a book or read them out of order. Maybe when I have the whole set I can begin again.
  • A biography of Ian Fleming.
  • Old Possum’s Practical Book of Cats by T.S. Eliot. My wife informs me that she already owns a copy of that book. However, as you know, our books remain separate, so I don’t care what she owns. I own it now.

Additionally, for the youts, I got a book about the lesser evil of the Roosevelts.

Not a lot, but reading is at a slow pace these days (backed up books to report on disbursed rapidly could lead to a different impression).

Or maybe I am saving myself for the Carondolet Y book fair coming later this year.

No Velvet Elvis, though, so my mother is probably going to fail her quest. I think she ought to get some XP just for trying, though. Next week, the world will be lousy with them.

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Book Report: Twice-Told Tales by Nathaniel Hawthorne (1837, 1989)

You know, once might have been enough.

Fresh from reading The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Other Tales, I jumped right into this book by another American author to see if my thesis that I could read American vernacular with more pleasure than the British was true. Apparently, it’s not unflinchingly true, as Hawthorne’s stories are more allegorical, high-faluting, and educational rather than enjoyable.

I read it slowly. At the beginning, I thought the style was overwhelming. Then, I amused myself in snickering at double entendres that would have made Hawthorne blush if he’d known how they’d sound to 21st century ears, such as the first paragraph of “The Maypole of Merry Mount“:

BRIGHT WERE the days at Merry Mount, when the Maypole was the banner staff of that gay colony! They who reared it, should their banner be triumphant, were to pour sunshine over New England’s rugged hills, and scatter flower seeds throughout the soil. Jollity and gloom were contending for an empire. Midsummer eve had come, bringing deep verdure to the forest, and roses in her lap, of a more vivid hue than the tender buds of Spring. But May, or her mirthful spirit, dwelt all the year round at Merry Mount, sporting with the Summer months, and revelling with Autumn, and basking in the glow of Winter’s fireside. Through a world of toil and care she flitted with a dreamlike smile, and came hither to find a home among the lightsome hearts of Merry Mount.

However, I eventually got acclimated to the book and got more into the tales, but they’re not really the sorts of things one reads for pleasure unless one gets pleasure out of saying, “I read Twice-Told Tales by Hawthorne for fun.”

So I guess I got some secondary pleasure out of it.

Less fun than the aforementioned Irving though, and only a bit more enjoyable than the Stallone but at greater investment.

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Book Report: Clash of the Titans by Alan Dean Foster (1981)

You remember the movie with the L.A. Law guy? No? Damn kids. This is the novelization, essentially a recasting of the Perseus myth with a bit of modern (ca. 1981) costumery.

I like Alan Dean Foster, as you know, and he got a lot of this sort of work. He adds some allusions within the text not found in the movie, but some of the off-script scenes sound completely different, as though a couple pages of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead were accidentally grafted into Hamlet.

Still, it serves its purpose: reminding me I need to watch the DVD of the film I bought some years ago. Actually, I think the real point was to make me go buy something related to the film to add to its bottom line, but I don’t think the lunchboxes still add to MGM’s bottom line 30 years later.

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Book Report: Contrary Pleasure by John D. MacDonald (1954, ?)

This is a Fawcett reprint of the original book, so you’ll have to forgive the back cover’s references to patterns of violence and evil lurking beneath the surface. Instead of a crime novel, this book depicts a decadent family in a milltown in New York that has a week wherein their lives break out of the rut into which they’d fallen. It’s a character study of each and the events that change them.

The patriarch, 50 something Ben, runs the mill he and the others inherited, but his progenitors allowed it to run down, so he’s barely holding it together. A major financier comes along to buy the mill, and Ben has to determine what’s best for the family.

Ben’s son Brock has been expelled from school after falling in with a bad woman and stealing from another student to support her. He has to deal with his father’s sanction, but he meets another girl who draws his attention.

Ben’s daughter Ellen is dating an older boy and hangs with some older kids, college students now, but she thinks that they’ve changed or she has.

Ben’s half-brother Quinn, a vice president at the mill, is intimidated by his robust and energetic wife. He doesn’t work for his salary and keeps a woman on the side.

Ben’s half-sister Alice married a construction man and deals with frigidity.

The construction man used to build good homes, but now speculates with his construction, cutting corners and using cheap materials.

The youngest brother of the family marries a strong woman in Mexico City, where both work for the State Department, and they return.

Over the course of the week, Alice has a sexual awakening of sorts, which causes the construction man to reevaluate his life and goals and stop doing shoddy work. Ellen’s boyfriend stumbles through a rape attempt, and she grows up. Ben tells off Quinn, who must be the evil guy as he engages in the pattern of violence–beating his girlfriend to death (he thinks) and then killing himself. Brock regains his father’s trust as he helps the patriarch with the crises. And Ben decides not to sell, even though it might drive him to an early coronary, because he likes keeping the mill–and the family–together ultimately.

A decent character piece, a bit awash in characters though, more like MacDonald’s business books than his crime fiction. But a good read nevertheless.

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Book Report: Paradise Alley by Sylvester Stallone (1977)

After almost winning an Academy Award for writing (Rocky, which ties Stallone with the number of almost Oscars as Roger L. Simon and puts him only one ahead of me), Stallone unleashed this book in bookstores before turning it into a film starring Stallone. Unlike Rocky, which dealt with boxing, this book deals with wrestling. And it’s set in the 40s, not the present day (then), so it’s completely different.

It’s wooden, it’s written pretty specifically in scenes for a movie, and it uses concrete poetry style arrangements of words to make points. But ultimately it didn’t suck as bad as some novels movies are based on or some novelizations of movies.

Plus, I get to say I read Stallone’s novel. It’s mixed in with Austen, Dickens, and Hardy this year, but jeez, any kid in college reads those. I alone read Stallone.

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Book Report: Bread by Ed McBain (1974)

I passed up a couple of copies of this at the St. Charles Book Fair because I knew I had a copy of it at home. The copy I have is an ex-library copy, so because I wasn’t that attentive, I passed up a chance to upgrade. One of these days, I should really add my to-read shelves to my database and run a comprehensive report before I go so I know what to look for and what to buy. But that’s more organized than I pretend to be.

This book is a 1974 87th precinct book, which means you’ll not find it as easily in the wild (St. Charles Book Fair notwithstanding) as you’ll find the 80s-00s books, so I’m glad I got it regardless of the edition. One finds that McBain’s quality remained pretty steady throughout his career.

This book deals with an arson fire that destroys a shipment of toys, putting a company’s owner in a bind. Investigating leads the 87th Squad to find some dubious investment schemes and a series of related murders that indicate something more than toy selling was going on.

It’s a good book, and it’s dated a bit. I mean, pushers want bread, dig? But still a worthy read.

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Junior Undersecretary, US Department of Truth Tryouts

A small newspaper’s editor comes out in favor of nationalizing the oil industry:

Here is one question: If the free market is the answer, how come gas at the pump is far, far cheaper in countries where governments run the oil business – Russia, Venezuela, Indonesia. Please, I am just asking a question. I am not a commie.

Just asking a question facilely; I thought journalists wanted answers, but not when the answers undermine their glib socialism. Since he’s not bothering to discuss the lifespan or quality of life of regular citizens in those countries, he’s really just pushing a commie viewpoint.

Perhaps Corrigan would like to talk about how cheap microwave dinners are in Cuba, since that worker’s paradise is only now giving its citizens conveniences we’ve taken for granted for decades. I would guess the same sort of dynamic holds true for cars; only a small percentage of people have cars, and even those who do tend to use them to try to escape to America and its high gas prices.

On the other hand, perhaps Corrigan hopes nationalization will save his industry, as newspapers are in precipitous decline as a business model (link via Instapundit).

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