I got word a few hours ago by e-mail that a friend of ours named Dale Peeke died this morning. Dale was a member of my church, St. Patrick's Anglican Catholic Church. He has requested that there be no funeral.
When I first came to St. Patrick's fourteen years ago, Dale was one of its most colorful members. As I recall it (my memory gets worse all the time), he actually drove up on his motorcycle at that time--a big, rough-looking guy, often wearing a leather jacket that said "Christian Motorcyclists Association" on the back. It was funny at a certain time of year, every year, to read a note in the bulletin, put there by Fr. Stephens (may he rest in peace), announcing the CMA "Run for the Son"--this very un-Anglican event. The announcement would always end, "Our own Dale Peeke is very much involved," which for some reason made me want to giggle.
Dale took a delight in each of my daughters--first as babies and then as they got older. He was often ill as time passed, and sometimes when he had been gone from church for a while and came back, he would look at Eldest Daughter and shake his head: "She just gets prettier all the time."
As time went on, he became not only a church friend but also, in a manner of speaking, an ally. The back-story there is of a kind that Trollope or perhaps even Sayers could fit into a novel with great humor. It boils down merely to the fact that musical tastes differ. I, being from a Baptist background, have in my role as organist tried to insinuate some old Baptist or Gospel hymns into the prelude (once we started preludes, about nine years ago, by my reckoning). Dale shared my taste for these, but not everyone else does. Whenever Dale was there I would feel more free to put in something that he would recognize, even if most of the other members didn't, and he would come back afterwards and tell me that he had enjoyed it. One of his favorites, one he mentioned every time I played it, was "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus." He called it "The Heavenly Vision."
Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.
A couple of months ago I learned that Dale was in hospice care and had been given only six months to live. By then he hadn't been able to get to church for some while, and at that time I conceived the plan of recording some hymns for him, including of course "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus." But the whole process was clunky, and all the while I had in the back of my mind a kind of embarrassment--wouldn't it sound incredibly amateurish? Wasn't it a little silly to record myself (and ED) singing things and to put it on a CD? Would he like it? I mentioned the plan to him over the phone once, and he seemed pleased. Nonetheless, I dithered. We got a recording device with quite a good quality mike about ten days ago and used it for a concert ED attended with her dad. It sounded good. Still I didn't actually make any move to record us singing.
Then on Sunday we learned that Dale had accidentally started a fire with his oxygen tank and was in the burn unit. This morning he passed away.
Now he doesn't need to hear "The Heavenly Vision." He has something better to do by far--enjoying the heavenly vision. I think I'm the one who lost out by not being more on the ball.
Rest in peace, Dale. I hope Our Lord gives you a new motorcycle and leather jacket someday to go with a new body that never, never needs an oxygen tank. And maybe we can sing some of those songs when we meet again.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
The things which belong unto thy peace
[This is a re-post from a few days ago at What's Wrong with the World. It was prompted by some of the posts it links from Wesley J. Smith's incredibly important blog, Secondhand Smoke (now at a new location as part of the First Things blog family).]
We humans usually don't know what's good for us. Jesus addressed the City of Peace and said that its inhabitants would not know the things that belonged unto their peace.
It is often said by conservatives, and rightly, that ideology is a great danger. The ideologue gets hold of one truth and makes it into the only truth, the only thing that matters. He sacrifices all else to that one thing. That one ideal might be equality, beauty, health, or love, but when one makes second things first, the second things always turn vicious, and horrors follow.
But there is another point, compatible with that point, that must be made too: When second things are made first, they destroy themselves. The ideologue does not even know what is best for the ideal he professes.
Take love, for instance. It's been said times without number that the sexual revolution wasn't really about love. But there were people who thought it was. If you had told them that the revolution they were founding would ultimately destroy love, even romantic love, even sexual love, they would not have listened. They would not have believed. Yet it was true, as numerous broken-hearted, broken-bodied men and women, men and women who have tried sex without honor can attest.
And now, in this our day, health is another god, another second thing made first. In the name of health we harvest the dead, we destroy embryos, our scientists promise us cures of all diseases if only we will dispense with ethical limitations on research. They are wrong, of course, and much of the promise is hype. But beyond that, we are in the process of losing all sense of what actually constitutes health. Doctors are under pressure to cooperate in the destruction of unborn infants as part of their profession. How is that serving health? Suicide on demand, for any reason whatsoever, assisted by doctors, is all the rage. What does that have to do with the medical profession's job of helping people to be healthy? Yet restless people whose relatives have had trouble finding people to cooperate in their suicide would actually like writing suicide prescriptions to be mandatory upon doctors. Bodily mutilation of healthy limbs is being considered as a "treatment." This is not serving bodily health and integrity.
In other words, the utilitarian attempt to elevate health as a good above innocent human life and above all ethical restraints has turned out to be profoundly anti-human and, consequently, is undermining the medical profession and the very notion of health itself.
If human beings knew the things that belong to their peace, then their perception of some good--love, health, beauty--would guide them to do the right thing. But they don't. They never seem to see it coming--the self-destructiveness of topsy-turvy priorities. They never seem to realize that when second things are made first, you end up with nothing, not even the second things.
It is time to ask ourselves what things belong to our peace. If we believe in healthy bodies, love, beauty, and human joy, we cannot serve these things best by treating the human body as mere matter. We will lose it all, and our house will be left unto us desolate.
And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! But now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation."
We humans usually don't know what's good for us. Jesus addressed the City of Peace and said that its inhabitants would not know the things that belonged unto their peace.
It is often said by conservatives, and rightly, that ideology is a great danger. The ideologue gets hold of one truth and makes it into the only truth, the only thing that matters. He sacrifices all else to that one thing. That one ideal might be equality, beauty, health, or love, but when one makes second things first, the second things always turn vicious, and horrors follow.
But there is another point, compatible with that point, that must be made too: When second things are made first, they destroy themselves. The ideologue does not even know what is best for the ideal he professes.
Take love, for instance. It's been said times without number that the sexual revolution wasn't really about love. But there were people who thought it was. If you had told them that the revolution they were founding would ultimately destroy love, even romantic love, even sexual love, they would not have listened. They would not have believed. Yet it was true, as numerous broken-hearted, broken-bodied men and women, men and women who have tried sex without honor can attest.
And now, in this our day, health is another god, another second thing made first. In the name of health we harvest the dead, we destroy embryos, our scientists promise us cures of all diseases if only we will dispense with ethical limitations on research. They are wrong, of course, and much of the promise is hype. But beyond that, we are in the process of losing all sense of what actually constitutes health. Doctors are under pressure to cooperate in the destruction of unborn infants as part of their profession. How is that serving health? Suicide on demand, for any reason whatsoever, assisted by doctors, is all the rage. What does that have to do with the medical profession's job of helping people to be healthy? Yet restless people whose relatives have had trouble finding people to cooperate in their suicide would actually like writing suicide prescriptions to be mandatory upon doctors. Bodily mutilation of healthy limbs is being considered as a "treatment." This is not serving bodily health and integrity.
In other words, the utilitarian attempt to elevate health as a good above innocent human life and above all ethical restraints has turned out to be profoundly anti-human and, consequently, is undermining the medical profession and the very notion of health itself.
If human beings knew the things that belong to their peace, then their perception of some good--love, health, beauty--would guide them to do the right thing. But they don't. They never seem to see it coming--the self-destructiveness of topsy-turvy priorities. They never seem to realize that when second things are made first, you end up with nothing, not even the second things.
It is time to ask ourselves what things belong to our peace. If we believe in healthy bodies, love, beauty, and human joy, we cannot serve these things best by treating the human body as mere matter. We will lose it all, and our house will be left unto us desolate.
What I've been up to--new horseback lessons
Just in case you all out there in readerland ever say to yourselves, "I wonder what Lydia McGrew is up to in her personal life lately," the latest fun thing is horseback riding lessons. It's still not absolutely clear that I'm going to be able to keep them up, but it's a case of so far so good. I have some minor back trouble that might have flared up and prevented it, but last week I recovered rapidly from the lesson and this week--we shall see. I feel fine just coming home now. Just a little stiff.
I rode a lot of Western trail riding when I was a kid, but there's nothing really "to" Western trail riding. You sit on your horse, and it follows the horse in front of it. If they trot or gallop, you hold the saddle horn. At age 10, I had a few English riding lessons, a very few, until Mom and Dad couldn't afford them anymore (understandably enough). Then it was just going riding with the church youth group now and then, hardly any riding at all, for years and years. And about twelve or thirteen years ago, I foolishly told an acquaintance that I knew how to ride, was given a horse I couldn't handle, and got myself thrown with the horse falling on top. Nobody hurt badly, not even the horse. But not fun. So after that I concentrated on raising children and not getting killed, and I haven't been back on a horse until last week. We're starting English riding from the very beginning.
I'm very fortunate to be having one-on-one lessons with a really good teacher. Last week we used one of the "school horses" from the farm, until she saw that I'm not scared of the horse or likely to freak out. Jake was very calm, but a little hard-mouthed, and with a fast, choppy trot that I could neither sit nor post. So today we had Hailey (sp?), and that was much nicer. Hailey is a tall Appaloosa and a pleasure to look at and ride. She has that long-legged walk straight down from the shoulder to the ground that always somehow reminds me of a lady in high heels. She has a lovely, smooth trot (as smooth as a trot can be, that is) that Barb, her owner and my teacher, calls a "Western" trot. I can sit it or post it, though I was still holding on to keep my balance while posting by the end of the lesson. I expect to be stiffer tomorrow than I was last week. Posting is a workout for a nerdy, sedentary type like me.
My mom called me a couple of days ago. She's nervous about the riding lessons. Ever since "what happened to Christopher Reeve," she says. Thanks, Mom. I told her I'm in far more danger driving to the lessons on a windey road where all the drivers push you if you're two miles below the speed limit than I am up on the horse. And that's the truth.
Hope to be able to keep it up this summer. Should be lots of fun if so.
I rode a lot of Western trail riding when I was a kid, but there's nothing really "to" Western trail riding. You sit on your horse, and it follows the horse in front of it. If they trot or gallop, you hold the saddle horn. At age 10, I had a few English riding lessons, a very few, until Mom and Dad couldn't afford them anymore (understandably enough). Then it was just going riding with the church youth group now and then, hardly any riding at all, for years and years. And about twelve or thirteen years ago, I foolishly told an acquaintance that I knew how to ride, was given a horse I couldn't handle, and got myself thrown with the horse falling on top. Nobody hurt badly, not even the horse. But not fun. So after that I concentrated on raising children and not getting killed, and I haven't been back on a horse until last week. We're starting English riding from the very beginning.
I'm very fortunate to be having one-on-one lessons with a really good teacher. Last week we used one of the "school horses" from the farm, until she saw that I'm not scared of the horse or likely to freak out. Jake was very calm, but a little hard-mouthed, and with a fast, choppy trot that I could neither sit nor post. So today we had Hailey (sp?), and that was much nicer. Hailey is a tall Appaloosa and a pleasure to look at and ride. She has that long-legged walk straight down from the shoulder to the ground that always somehow reminds me of a lady in high heels. She has a lovely, smooth trot (as smooth as a trot can be, that is) that Barb, her owner and my teacher, calls a "Western" trot. I can sit it or post it, though I was still holding on to keep my balance while posting by the end of the lesson. I expect to be stiffer tomorrow than I was last week. Posting is a workout for a nerdy, sedentary type like me.
My mom called me a couple of days ago. She's nervous about the riding lessons. Ever since "what happened to Christopher Reeve," she says. Thanks, Mom. I told her I'm in far more danger driving to the lessons on a windey road where all the drivers push you if you're two miles below the speed limit than I am up on the horse. And that's the truth.
Hope to be able to keep it up this summer. Should be lots of fun if so.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Blessed Ascensiontide
Well, golly, I wrote such a great post for Ascension Day last year that I'm strongly inclined just to link to it. It's here.
And here are the wonderful collects. We get two, because Ascension has an octave:
Grant, we beseech thee, Almighty God, that like as we do believe thy only begotten Son our Lord Jesus Christ to have ascended into the heavens; so we may also in heart and mind thither ascend, and with him continually dwell, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.
O God, the King of glory, who hast exalted thine only Son Jesus Christ with great triumph unto thy kingdom in heaven; We beseech thee, leave us not comfortless; but send to us thine Holy Ghost to comfort us, and exalt us unto the same place whither our Saviour Christ is gone before, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.
For any of you who are Peter Wimsey fans, the first of those (the one actually for Ascension Day) features in my favorite of all favorite Wimsey novels, The Nine Tailors. As you'll recall (if you've read the book), Wimsey first came to the small fen town in the story back in the winter, on a nasty, snowy New Year's Eve, rang a peal with the ringers (because several had fallen sick of the influenza epidemic and Wimsey had turned up providentially to ring bells for nine hours overnight), and left the next day. But just after Easter, a body is discovered unexpectedly, and the rector, Mr. Venables, writes to Wimsey asking him to come and help investigate. So Wimsey is back in the fens in the spring. He is inspired to guess the location of the mysterious emeralds (yes, there are mysterious emeralds) by the rector's sermon on the collect for Ascension Day.
One of the things I like about Ascension as an Anglican feast is that it's the kind of thing a person with a Baptist upbringing and sympathies can be enriched by without changing one whit of doctrine. It's just a set of ideas that simply never occurred to you before: Jesus took our human nature back to the Father's right hand. Jesus reigns with God, so God and man are on the throne together. We sit with Him in heavenly places. He intercedes for us with the Father. If you are familiar with Scripture, all of that comes back. But if you don't have a liturgical background, you usually didn't think of associating it with Jesus' ascension. But that's when that all started. And of course, as Jesus' words to the disciples just before ascending refer to the promise of "the Gift," the Holy Ghost, so the Feast of the Ascension looks forward to next week, Whitsunday, Pentecost.
Lift up your heads, ye mighty gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in!
And here are the wonderful collects. We get two, because Ascension has an octave:
Grant, we beseech thee, Almighty God, that like as we do believe thy only begotten Son our Lord Jesus Christ to have ascended into the heavens; so we may also in heart and mind thither ascend, and with him continually dwell, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.
O God, the King of glory, who hast exalted thine only Son Jesus Christ with great triumph unto thy kingdom in heaven; We beseech thee, leave us not comfortless; but send to us thine Holy Ghost to comfort us, and exalt us unto the same place whither our Saviour Christ is gone before, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.
For any of you who are Peter Wimsey fans, the first of those (the one actually for Ascension Day) features in my favorite of all favorite Wimsey novels, The Nine Tailors. As you'll recall (if you've read the book), Wimsey first came to the small fen town in the story back in the winter, on a nasty, snowy New Year's Eve, rang a peal with the ringers (because several had fallen sick of the influenza epidemic and Wimsey had turned up providentially to ring bells for nine hours overnight), and left the next day. But just after Easter, a body is discovered unexpectedly, and the rector, Mr. Venables, writes to Wimsey asking him to come and help investigate. So Wimsey is back in the fens in the spring. He is inspired to guess the location of the mysterious emeralds (yes, there are mysterious emeralds) by the rector's sermon on the collect for Ascension Day.
One of the things I like about Ascension as an Anglican feast is that it's the kind of thing a person with a Baptist upbringing and sympathies can be enriched by without changing one whit of doctrine. It's just a set of ideas that simply never occurred to you before: Jesus took our human nature back to the Father's right hand. Jesus reigns with God, so God and man are on the throne together. We sit with Him in heavenly places. He intercedes for us with the Father. If you are familiar with Scripture, all of that comes back. But if you don't have a liturgical background, you usually didn't think of associating it with Jesus' ascension. But that's when that all started. And of course, as Jesus' words to the disciples just before ascending refer to the promise of "the Gift," the Holy Ghost, so the Feast of the Ascension looks forward to next week, Whitsunday, Pentecost.
Lift up your heads, ye mighty gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Lemon-roasted chicken
Okay, enough serious stuff. I offered this recipe on Facebook and had several takers, so here it is. Hopefully, the style will be more interesting than that of the ordinary cookbook. If you are not cooking challenged, pleased excuse the unnecessary details. (Recipe modified from one published in Reader's Digest donkey's years ago.)
Get one (dead) chicken, 4-6 lbs., and 2 fresh lemons. Bring them home.
Put the chicken somewhere where it won't matter when all that gross blood runs out all over everything, and cut open the wrap. Take out all the icky stuff in the body cavity--the giblets-in-a-bag and the neck--and throw it away.
Grab one of the fresh lemons and stab it all over with a sharp knife. Put the lemon into the body cavity of the chicken.
Put the lemon-stuffed chicken into some sort of roasting pan big enough to hold it. (Oh, pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees.)
Cut the other lemon in half. Squeeze the juice of half of the lemon all over the chicken. (Tip: If the lemon half doesn't want to squeeze, make several small cuts in the edge of the skin around the rim of the lemon half.)
Shake dried basil and dried oregano generously all over the lemon-juiced chicken.
If you feel like being fancy, tuck the wing tips of the chicken under its back. But if you don't know how to do this and don't mind the fact that the wings will pretty much be dried up and inedible if you don't do it, don't bother.
Make sure your oven racks are far enough apart to fit the pan with the chicken in it.
Place the chicken in the pre-heated oven and bake for one and one-fourth to one and three-fourths hours, depending on the size of the chicken. While it cooks, clean up the mess from opening up the chicken, etc., with hot soapy water.
Test the chicken for doneness using an instant thermometer stuck into the thick meat of the chicken somewhere (like on the breast). It should read 180 degrees. Or saw off a leg right at the thigh and see if it looks completely cooked and white with clear juices, not pink at all.
Serving suggestion--Serve with Uncle Ben's long grain and wild rice.
Oh, cut up the other lemon half into slices for people to squeeze over their chicken meat and rice.
Enjoy.
Get one (dead) chicken, 4-6 lbs., and 2 fresh lemons. Bring them home.
Put the chicken somewhere where it won't matter when all that gross blood runs out all over everything, and cut open the wrap. Take out all the icky stuff in the body cavity--the giblets-in-a-bag and the neck--and throw it away.
Grab one of the fresh lemons and stab it all over with a sharp knife. Put the lemon into the body cavity of the chicken.
Put the lemon-stuffed chicken into some sort of roasting pan big enough to hold it. (Oh, pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees.)
Cut the other lemon in half. Squeeze the juice of half of the lemon all over the chicken. (Tip: If the lemon half doesn't want to squeeze, make several small cuts in the edge of the skin around the rim of the lemon half.)
Shake dried basil and dried oregano generously all over the lemon-juiced chicken.
If you feel like being fancy, tuck the wing tips of the chicken under its back. But if you don't know how to do this and don't mind the fact that the wings will pretty much be dried up and inedible if you don't do it, don't bother.
Make sure your oven racks are far enough apart to fit the pan with the chicken in it.
Place the chicken in the pre-heated oven and bake for one and one-fourth to one and three-fourths hours, depending on the size of the chicken. While it cooks, clean up the mess from opening up the chicken, etc., with hot soapy water.
Test the chicken for doneness using an instant thermometer stuck into the thick meat of the chicken somewhere (like on the breast). It should read 180 degrees. Or saw off a leg right at the thigh and see if it looks completely cooked and white with clear juices, not pink at all.
Serving suggestion--Serve with Uncle Ben's long grain and wild rice.
Oh, cut up the other lemon half into slices for people to squeeze over their chicken meat and rice.
Enjoy.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Finding leads to losing
About thirty years ago in Chicago I went to a live concert by Ken Medema, a blind Christian pianist and singer. Ken was in rare form that night, and it hardly mattered that we were crowded into an auxiliary room watching on closed-circuit TV. He did the inimitable "Moses" and I think one or two others of his classics, but for the most part his concert was one long ad lib on the life and miracles of Jesus. In the course of it he kept coming back to this little chorus with doggerel rhyme, that I now half suspect he made up on the spot:
Finding leads to losing;
Losing lets you find.
Living leads to dying;
Life leaves death behind.
Losing leads to finding;
All that I can say.
No one will find life another way.
I lost count of the number of times he went back and sang that in the course of the evening. It is, of course, a paraphrase of the words of Christ: "He that saveth his life shall lose it, but he that loseth his life for my sake and the Gospel's, the same shall save it. For what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"
The tune has stayed with me all these years, and I can almost hear the guys from the youth group--not a very reverent lot, truth be told--singing it over and over again in the van on the way home.
And somehow, today, I had it going through my head in an entirely different context, a context which may be quite unrelated. (The temptation to blog sometimes has a negative effect on one's logical faculties.) But here is what I thought: The Internet has made it possible for me and for many others to find many friends that we would not otherwise have found--likeminded people, men of integrity whom we respect. Ideological loneliness is a real thing. We Christian conservatives, especially those of us who are traditionally minded, are not in a majority in our country or our world, and so we naturally reach out to allies and new friends, and the Internet has proven a great resource for this purpose. But that finding of friends also means that there are that many more opportunities to lose touch with people. It needn't be a matter of a falling out at all. Someone retires from blogging; a given blog closes down; people become understandably and rightly busy with real life. But just as it is a sad thing to lose touch with an old friend one has known in high school, college, graduate school, in person, it is also a sad thing to contemplate possibly losing touch with a person one has known only on the Internet.
So finding leads to losing. But in the end, whatever happens in cyberspace or physical space, we are not bound to the circles of the world. And in heaven, I think that even those we have never seen, whom we would not now recognize if we passed them on the street or in the store, we will recognize.
So losing leads to finding after all.
Zippy Catholic: Pax
Finding leads to losing;
Losing lets you find.
Living leads to dying;
Life leaves death behind.
Losing leads to finding;
All that I can say.
No one will find life another way.
I lost count of the number of times he went back and sang that in the course of the evening. It is, of course, a paraphrase of the words of Christ: "He that saveth his life shall lose it, but he that loseth his life for my sake and the Gospel's, the same shall save it. For what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"
The tune has stayed with me all these years, and I can almost hear the guys from the youth group--not a very reverent lot, truth be told--singing it over and over again in the van on the way home.
And somehow, today, I had it going through my head in an entirely different context, a context which may be quite unrelated. (The temptation to blog sometimes has a negative effect on one's logical faculties.) But here is what I thought: The Internet has made it possible for me and for many others to find many friends that we would not otherwise have found--likeminded people, men of integrity whom we respect. Ideological loneliness is a real thing. We Christian conservatives, especially those of us who are traditionally minded, are not in a majority in our country or our world, and so we naturally reach out to allies and new friends, and the Internet has proven a great resource for this purpose. But that finding of friends also means that there are that many more opportunities to lose touch with people. It needn't be a matter of a falling out at all. Someone retires from blogging; a given blog closes down; people become understandably and rightly busy with real life. But just as it is a sad thing to lose touch with an old friend one has known in high school, college, graduate school, in person, it is also a sad thing to contemplate possibly losing touch with a person one has known only on the Internet.
So finding leads to losing. But in the end, whatever happens in cyberspace or physical space, we are not bound to the circles of the world. And in heaven, I think that even those we have never seen, whom we would not now recognize if we passed them on the street or in the store, we will recognize.
So losing leads to finding after all.
Zippy Catholic: Pax
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Songs to Die for (and oldies): Amy Grant
I fear that only a small segment of my already-small readership will appreciate this post, but that's as may be. I am self-consciously dating myself here. This first song came out originally, I learn from Youtube, on the album Age to Age in 1982. That was the year I graduated (young) from high school. Amy Grant was considered rather radical in my fundamentalist crowd, a fact Eldest Daughter thinks is absolutely hilarious now. Yet we all listened to her. I have recently learned that she is only five years older than I am and am shocked to think how very young she was in 1982. Anyway, out of the blue today I found myself singing "In a little while we'll be with the Father," and I came home and introduced it to Eldest Daughter, who has found some of Grant's music already through the Internet. Favorite line: "We're just here to learn to love Him. We'll be home in just a little while."
In A Little While - Amy Grant
And then there's "Straight Ahead":
Straight Ahead - Amy Grant - Straight Ahead
In A Little While - Amy Grant
And then there's "Straight Ahead":
Straight Ahead - Amy Grant - Straight Ahead
Friday, May 08, 2009
The value of gun-ownership
More self-defense stuff: Kudos to the (for some reason) unnamed college student in Georgia who saved himself and his fellow students from murder and the females among them from rape by two armed intruders. The student pulled a gun out of his backpack, shot at one bad guy (driving him out of the apartment), ran into the room where the other bad guy was with the women, and shot him. One girl was shot accidentally but is expected to recover completely. And if I were she, I'd be thanking my defender 'til the day I died.
HT VFR
HT VFR
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
New issue of The Christendom Review now on-line
A new issue of a relatively new journal called The Christendom Review is now on-line. Bill Luse and I both have articles in it about Terri Schiavo, and those of my readers who are interested in legal issues will, I hope, be especially interested in my examination of the legal issues surrounding Terri's murder. I haven't had a chance myself to read many of the other pieces, but I already knew about the visual art of Timothy Jones and am pleased to see some of it highlighted in this issue. I especially like Bleu Cheese and Beer. (One thing I don't quite understand is where the section of Timothy Jones's page went that used to show his whole gallery, including paintings already sold. Some of them were very lovely, and it was great to be able to see them all.)
Anyway, check out the new Christendom Review, and hearty and insufficient thanks to Todd McKimmey for all the work he does and the space he provides to make each issue possible.
Update: Ah, here it is: Timothy Jones Fine Art (I was forgetting to try .net as well as .com) He should have this link front and center on all his other pages. I especially like Strawberries & Cream.
Anyway, check out the new Christendom Review, and hearty and insufficient thanks to Todd McKimmey for all the work he does and the space he provides to make each issue possible.
Update: Ah, here it is: Timothy Jones Fine Art (I was forgetting to try .net as well as .com) He should have this link front and center on all his other pages. I especially like Strawberries & Cream.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Don't let this be you
I'm going to touch on a touchy subject--the subject of race.
Larry Auster links and discusses a horrifying recent story of a young mother, out shopping with her baby, who was kidnapped at gunpoint and raped. She did not take precautions against her attacker because she "didn't want to seem racist." Ponder that. Anti-racism is now a religion, and people think that they must risk suffering and death for it. This woman could easily have been killed. As it was, she was "only" kidnapped and raped and lived to identify her evil attacker.
Don't let this be you or one of your beloved female relatives or friends. Whatever you may think of the religion of anti-racism, don't be a martyr to it. This woman saw a black man loitering in the parking lot of (of all places) Babies "R" Us, wearing a tattered coat. She felt uneasy and suspicious about him, but she simply walked to her car as usual, past him, because she "didn't want to seem racist." He came up behind her with a gun and threatened to kill her baby if she didn't drive away with him to wherever he directed her.
What else could she have done besides stifling her misgivings and going to the car? She could have gone back into the store and shopped more, checking from time to time to see if the suspicious man was still in the parking lot. She could have used the cell phone that almost everyone has to call her husband or a friend and ask to be met at the store. Best of all, she could have gone back into the store, told the manager about a loiterer who made her feel uneasy, and requested a male escort to her car. She could have done many things. But instead, she walked straight into the trap. And this is by no means the only incident of this kind that has occurred.
Use your brains, your knowledge, and your instincts. Don't stifle them as wrongthought. Better safe than sorry.
Larry Auster links and discusses a horrifying recent story of a young mother, out shopping with her baby, who was kidnapped at gunpoint and raped. She did not take precautions against her attacker because she "didn't want to seem racist." Ponder that. Anti-racism is now a religion, and people think that they must risk suffering and death for it. This woman could easily have been killed. As it was, she was "only" kidnapped and raped and lived to identify her evil attacker.
Don't let this be you or one of your beloved female relatives or friends. Whatever you may think of the religion of anti-racism, don't be a martyr to it. This woman saw a black man loitering in the parking lot of (of all places) Babies "R" Us, wearing a tattered coat. She felt uneasy and suspicious about him, but she simply walked to her car as usual, past him, because she "didn't want to seem racist." He came up behind her with a gun and threatened to kill her baby if she didn't drive away with him to wherever he directed her.
What else could she have done besides stifling her misgivings and going to the car? She could have gone back into the store and shopped more, checking from time to time to see if the suspicious man was still in the parking lot. She could have used the cell phone that almost everyone has to call her husband or a friend and ask to be met at the store. Best of all, she could have gone back into the store, told the manager about a loiterer who made her feel uneasy, and requested a male escort to her car. She could have done many things. But instead, she walked straight into the trap. And this is by no means the only incident of this kind that has occurred.
Use your brains, your knowledge, and your instincts. Don't stifle them as wrongthought. Better safe than sorry.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Welcome, Happy Morning
I haven't had a hymn post for a long, long time. This morning we sang "Welcome, Happy Morning" to the catchy tune "Fortunatus" by none other than Arthur Sullivan. The text is a translation of the ancient Easter hymn by Venantius Fortunatus, which some of you may know in its incarnation as "Hail Thee, Festival Day." Call me a Philistine if you will, but I like the Sullivan version better than the Vaughan Williams one! Perhaps this is partly because "Hail Thee, Festival Day" is a stinker to play and for the congregation to sing, jumping back and forth as it does on the hymnal pages. But I also prefer the text translation that goes with the Sullivan tune. Here are the words:
“Welcome, happy morning!” age to age shall say:
“Hell today is vanquished, Heav’n is won today!”
Lo! the dead is living, God forevermore!
Him, their true Creator, all His works adore!
Refrain
“Welcome, happy morning!”
Age to age shall say.
Earth her joy confesses, clothing her for spring,
All fresh gifts returned with her returning King:
Bloom in every meadow, leaves on every bough,
Speak His sorrow ended, hail His triumph now.
Refrain
Months in due succession, days of lengthening light,
Hours and passing moments praise Thee in their flight.
Brightness of the morning, sky and fields and sea,
Vanquisher of darkness, bring their praise to Thee.
Refrain
Maker and Redeemer, life and health of all,
Thou from heaven beholding human nature’s fall,
Of the Father’s Godhead true and only Son,
Mankind to deliver, manhood didst put on.
Refrain
Thou, of life the Author, death didst undergo,
Tread the path of darkness, saving strength to show;
Come, then True and Faithful, now fulfill Thy Word;
’Tis Thine own third morning; rise, O buried Lord!
Refrain
Loose the souls long prisoned, bound with Satan’s chain;
All that now is fallen raise to life again;
Show Thy face in brightness, bid the nations see;
Bring again our daylight: day returns with Thee!
Refrain
I've been slow all these years: I just this morning realized that "Come, then True and Faithful, now fulfill Thy Word" refers to Jesus' predictions before His death of His own resurrection.
As you can see, this is one of those Northern Hemisphere hymns. Having a reader from New Zealand particularly brings this home to me. Christianity originated in the hemisphere where it is dark and cold at Christmas and getting to be spring at Easter. In fact, the whole dating of Easter in the Western church calendar is predicated on the connection to spring. Easter is the first Sunday after the first full moon on or after the first day of spring! And so many hymns reflect this, particularly during Advent, at Christmas, and at Easter, from the gorgeous "Lo, How a Rose" ("She bore to men a Savior, when half-spent was the night...") to the one above.
The incorporation of the seasons into Christian symbolism, liturgy, history, and hymnody has been incredibly enriching. But I do have to admit that it must be harder to appreciate if you have lived all your life in a country where the seasons are the opposite, where it is just getting to winter at Eastertide and is the height of summer at Christmas!
“Welcome, happy morning!” age to age shall say:
“Hell today is vanquished, Heav’n is won today!”
Lo! the dead is living, God forevermore!
Him, their true Creator, all His works adore!
Refrain
“Welcome, happy morning!”
Age to age shall say.
Earth her joy confesses, clothing her for spring,
All fresh gifts returned with her returning King:
Bloom in every meadow, leaves on every bough,
Speak His sorrow ended, hail His triumph now.
Refrain
Months in due succession, days of lengthening light,
Hours and passing moments praise Thee in their flight.
Brightness of the morning, sky and fields and sea,
Vanquisher of darkness, bring their praise to Thee.
Refrain
Maker and Redeemer, life and health of all,
Thou from heaven beholding human nature’s fall,
Of the Father’s Godhead true and only Son,
Mankind to deliver, manhood didst put on.
Refrain
Thou, of life the Author, death didst undergo,
Tread the path of darkness, saving strength to show;
Come, then True and Faithful, now fulfill Thy Word;
’Tis Thine own third morning; rise, O buried Lord!
Refrain
Loose the souls long prisoned, bound with Satan’s chain;
All that now is fallen raise to life again;
Show Thy face in brightness, bid the nations see;
Bring again our daylight: day returns with Thee!
Refrain
I've been slow all these years: I just this morning realized that "Come, then True and Faithful, now fulfill Thy Word" refers to Jesus' predictions before His death of His own resurrection.
As you can see, this is one of those Northern Hemisphere hymns. Having a reader from New Zealand particularly brings this home to me. Christianity originated in the hemisphere where it is dark and cold at Christmas and getting to be spring at Easter. In fact, the whole dating of Easter in the Western church calendar is predicated on the connection to spring. Easter is the first Sunday after the first full moon on or after the first day of spring! And so many hymns reflect this, particularly during Advent, at Christmas, and at Easter, from the gorgeous "Lo, How a Rose" ("She bore to men a Savior, when half-spent was the night...") to the one above.
The incorporation of the seasons into Christian symbolism, liturgy, history, and hymnody has been incredibly enriching. But I do have to admit that it must be harder to appreciate if you have lived all your life in a country where the seasons are the opposite, where it is just getting to winter at Eastertide and is the height of summer at Christmas!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Ugly clothes
In less than two months, Esteemed Husband and I will be winging our way to Belgium for a short conference in Leuven. This is a Big Deal, because we almost never travel. Fortunately, we have found someone nice and efficient to stay with the girls, and Eldest Daughter will be a great co-babysitter as well. So we're going.
I wanted another skirt for the conference, and after shopping fruitlessly on-line, I ordered one from Lilies Apparel, which I have mentioned before. The skirt should be pretty, though I've never ordered a skirt from them before, but I won't see it for a few weeks. Ordering a skirt from Lilies is a little like ordering a book from Lulu. They don't start making the physical item until you order it. This is nice, because I got mine customized for length and waist size. I think it will come in time, though.
It's a bit pricey, and after ordering it I was seized with a sudden qualm: What if unbeknownst to me my local Meijer superstore had in the meanwhile started selling nice women's clothes and had a skirt I could have bought for much less?
But I needn't have worried.
I had to go to Meijer for something else and took a gander at the women's clothing section. With the exception of a few shelves of T-shirts, all the clothes there had been made in strict accordance with standards provided by the Federal Bureau of Ugly Clothes. I'm sure there is such a bureau, and if you doubt it, go look at the women's clothes at a local superstore sometime.
They were absolutely hideous. I'll start with the skirts, because that was what I was shopping for. The only ones I really looked at were the super-long ones, because the only other kind were the super-short ones. Nothing in between, of course. The super-long ones were called "peasant skirts," but any self-respecting peasant woman would, I'm sure, rather wear a garment made out of a cornmeal sack. They were made of something that I believe is called "crinkle cloth," and it looks just like you would think something called "crinkle cloth" would look--like the tissue paper that comes out of a gift bag and has been wadded up and then partially smoothed out again. Somehow this "crinkle" appearance made even white look like a dirty color. The other colors were a flat, dusty black and various shades of industrial sludge. And on top of everything else, they were see-through. How nice: A pseudo-modest skirt so long that it places a woman in danger of falling flat on her face when she walks while at the same time making Superman's X-ray vision superfluous for purposes of seeing through her clothes.
(While I was looking at these skirts, a young woman was wailing over the radio overhead, "I get so emotional, baby!" Over and over. Should she maybe see somebody about her problem?)
On the way to the skirts, I caught sight of the tops. I see these on women all the time. Most of them are what I would call the maternity camisole look, only often they are brown, which isn't a usual camisole color: Exceedingly immodest, thin little straps or a halter top, deep cleavage, and an ugly sort of bunched-up bodice-formation, with a maternity-style loose skirt underneath the bodice to form the rest of the top. Or, for the squeamish among us, there is the "wear your underwear on top of your clothes" look: The foregoing maternity camisole with a still rather plungy T-shirt sewn underneath it.
Who thinks of these things? Who would actually want to wear them? I suppose some women wear them because they can't find the T-shirt shelves or perhaps even because they buy their clothes without thinking. But the clothes are so, so ugly. The ugliness is in some ways even more striking than the immodesty.
So, reluctantly, I tore myself away from the women's clothing section, muttered something under my breath about the emotional girl on the radio, and took myself off home.
I wanted another skirt for the conference, and after shopping fruitlessly on-line, I ordered one from Lilies Apparel, which I have mentioned before. The skirt should be pretty, though I've never ordered a skirt from them before, but I won't see it for a few weeks. Ordering a skirt from Lilies is a little like ordering a book from Lulu. They don't start making the physical item until you order it. This is nice, because I got mine customized for length and waist size. I think it will come in time, though.
It's a bit pricey, and after ordering it I was seized with a sudden qualm: What if unbeknownst to me my local Meijer superstore had in the meanwhile started selling nice women's clothes and had a skirt I could have bought for much less?
But I needn't have worried.
I had to go to Meijer for something else and took a gander at the women's clothing section. With the exception of a few shelves of T-shirts, all the clothes there had been made in strict accordance with standards provided by the Federal Bureau of Ugly Clothes. I'm sure there is such a bureau, and if you doubt it, go look at the women's clothes at a local superstore sometime.
They were absolutely hideous. I'll start with the skirts, because that was what I was shopping for. The only ones I really looked at were the super-long ones, because the only other kind were the super-short ones. Nothing in between, of course. The super-long ones were called "peasant skirts," but any self-respecting peasant woman would, I'm sure, rather wear a garment made out of a cornmeal sack. They were made of something that I believe is called "crinkle cloth," and it looks just like you would think something called "crinkle cloth" would look--like the tissue paper that comes out of a gift bag and has been wadded up and then partially smoothed out again. Somehow this "crinkle" appearance made even white look like a dirty color. The other colors were a flat, dusty black and various shades of industrial sludge. And on top of everything else, they were see-through. How nice: A pseudo-modest skirt so long that it places a woman in danger of falling flat on her face when she walks while at the same time making Superman's X-ray vision superfluous for purposes of seeing through her clothes.
(While I was looking at these skirts, a young woman was wailing over the radio overhead, "I get so emotional, baby!" Over and over. Should she maybe see somebody about her problem?)
On the way to the skirts, I caught sight of the tops. I see these on women all the time. Most of them are what I would call the maternity camisole look, only often they are brown, which isn't a usual camisole color: Exceedingly immodest, thin little straps or a halter top, deep cleavage, and an ugly sort of bunched-up bodice-formation, with a maternity-style loose skirt underneath the bodice to form the rest of the top. Or, for the squeamish among us, there is the "wear your underwear on top of your clothes" look: The foregoing maternity camisole with a still rather plungy T-shirt sewn underneath it.
Who thinks of these things? Who would actually want to wear them? I suppose some women wear them because they can't find the T-shirt shelves or perhaps even because they buy their clothes without thinking. But the clothes are so, so ugly. The ugliness is in some ways even more striking than the immodesty.
So, reluctantly, I tore myself away from the women's clothing section, muttered something under my breath about the emotional girl on the radio, and took myself off home.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Excellent rant against PC-speak
Do you hate PC-speak? Do you hate all the deceptive, cloying, mind-befogging, euphemistic mental manipulation to which the self-styled Guardians of Culture want to subject you by means of telling you how you must talk?
You will love this post. It's a rant. It's a self-styled rant. Warning: It uses one bad word in the course thereof, once. (He says he will hereby redefine it, since language changes and we can make words mean whatever we want them to mean.) It's hilarious. Here are just a few quotes, but you will want to read the whole thing:
And there's more. Yes, he gets to feminist revisionist language, too. No one is spared. It's a tour de force (a few misspellings notwithstanding).
Bonus link: If you have never read P. J. O'Rourke's glorious rant on this same subject (politically correct language), the one containing the sentence, "I feel a spate of better writing coming on," do yourself a favor and read it, too.
HT: Scott W. at Romish Internet Graffiti
You will love this post. It's a rant. It's a self-styled rant. Warning: It uses one bad word in the course thereof, once. (He says he will hereby redefine it, since language changes and we can make words mean whatever we want them to mean.) It's hilarious. Here are just a few quotes, but you will want to read the whole thing:
Unless you can tell me, off the top of your head and without looking it up, the name in any Eskimo dialect for a Virginian, I suggest your concern for their concern for our names for them is illegitimate......
Maybe if I video-taped myself with a kidnapped and innocent civilian journalist, one to whom I’d falsely promised safe conduct, and battered in his skull with a thurible while dressed in miter and alb all the time singing GLORIA IN EXCELSIS DEO, my tender feelings would be nourished and guarded. Or is it only the deadly enemies of their own culture the death-cult members of the death-culture Left wish to see lauded, aided and abetted?
Let me explain that I regard political correctness as worse than a lie....
A lie is a straightforward attempt to deceive a victim. It [is] almost honest by contrast. Political Correctness is a corrupt attempt to poison thought and speech, and to impose upon the nobility and courtesy of its victims to get them to deceive themselves. A frequent side effect of PC jargon is that it renders rational conversation difficult, indirect, or even impossible.
Innocent and well meaning people are actually fooled by this simple trick. Sad to say, most people think like magicians. They believe in the rule of true names. They think (or rather, they feel) that when they are calling one thing by another name, that the actual nature of reality changes. They put themselves in a position where they can no longer talk about real things. Words are severed from referents.
If you successfully substitute the word 'Inuit' for 'Eskimo' on the grounds that 'Eskimo' is an insult, you will have successfully convinced the next generation that all their forefathers who used the word 'Eskimo' deliberately meant and fully intended an insult, or were foolish or negligent enough to utter an insult by accident. That conviction will be false, a lie, and you (in a small way, one more straw on the camel's back) will have helped to perpetrate it.
And there's more. Yes, he gets to feminist revisionist language, too. No one is spared. It's a tour de force (a few misspellings notwithstanding).
Bonus link: If you have never read P. J. O'Rourke's glorious rant on this same subject (politically correct language), the one containing the sentence, "I feel a spate of better writing coming on," do yourself a favor and read it, too.
HT: Scott W. at Romish Internet Graffiti
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Y.D. on Infinity
Tonight at supper, Youngest Daughter (age 5 1/2) asked me, "What is the name of the biggest number?"
With some excitement, I told her, "There isn't one! If you name any number, there is always a bigger one." After talking about this for a while, and using the word "infinity" a few times, I asked her, "Do you understand?"
"No," she said, fairly cheerfully. End of subject for the time.
After supper, she got out a pencil and paper. "I'm writing the numbers up to infinity," she told me.
"But you can't!" I said. "It's not possible."
"Yes, I can," she insisted. "I have a paper and pencil, and I'm going to write them." A little later, she added, "I'm going to write the numbers up to 500."
"That's not infinity," I said. "Do you know what 'infinity' means?"
"No."
"If a thing goes on forever, that means it goes on to infinity. Numbers go on to infinity, and that means they never end."
A little later, she told me that she was trying to write, "The fact is that things go on forever. They never end." But, she added, she couldn't remember how to spell "things." I suggested that "numbers" is easier to spell than "things." We talked for a bit about how to spell "numbers."
Then I said, "Besides, it depends on what things you're talking about. Some things do come to an end, but others don't."
"Cups come to an end!" she said.
"That's right. Cups come to an end. But numbers don't."
Next stop: Actual and potential infinities.
With some excitement, I told her, "There isn't one! If you name any number, there is always a bigger one." After talking about this for a while, and using the word "infinity" a few times, I asked her, "Do you understand?"
"No," she said, fairly cheerfully. End of subject for the time.
After supper, she got out a pencil and paper. "I'm writing the numbers up to infinity," she told me.
"But you can't!" I said. "It's not possible."
"Yes, I can," she insisted. "I have a paper and pencil, and I'm going to write them." A little later, she added, "I'm going to write the numbers up to 500."
"That's not infinity," I said. "Do you know what 'infinity' means?"
"No."
"If a thing goes on forever, that means it goes on to infinity. Numbers go on to infinity, and that means they never end."
A little later, she told me that she was trying to write, "The fact is that things go on forever. They never end." But, she added, she couldn't remember how to spell "things." I suggested that "numbers" is easier to spell than "things." We talked for a bit about how to spell "numbers."
Then I said, "Besides, it depends on what things you're talking about. Some things do come to an end, but others don't."
"Cups come to an end!" she said.
"That's right. Cups come to an end. But numbers don't."
Next stop: Actual and potential infinities.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Bill Luse's great Easter Youtube
I don't do enough linking from here to my friends' blog pieces. There are a lot of reasons for that, and I'm not promising amendment of life. It's sometimes hard enough to put up something original of my own. (Hey! Maybe I don't have to, if I fulfill my sense of blogging responsibility at this personal blog by linking more frequently to other people's neat posts. Gotta think about that one.)
But it suddenly occurred to me that, since I enjoyed Bill Luse's Youtube video for Easter so much--and I e-mailed the link to a couple of people who definitely wouldn't have seen it otherwise--I should link it from here for any of my readers who don't go over to Bill's page regularly.
I won't tell you what the song is ahead of time. See how many of the people in the pictures you can identify. I got dry-eyed as far as Terri Schiavo.
Enjoy.
But it suddenly occurred to me that, since I enjoyed Bill Luse's Youtube video for Easter so much--and I e-mailed the link to a couple of people who definitely wouldn't have seen it otherwise--I should link it from here for any of my readers who don't go over to Bill's page regularly.
I won't tell you what the song is ahead of time. See how many of the people in the pictures you can identify. I got dry-eyed as far as Terri Schiavo.
Enjoy.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
How do you pedal backwards so fast, Rick?
I always knew I disliked Rick Warren. Read about his backpedaling on supporting Prop. 8. Simply disgusting. Nothing like handing the keys of the city to the sodomites just when they are on the attack. I've got a clue for you, Rick: If you want Larry King and his friends to like you...you'd better not be a Christian. Not one to whom Christianity means anything about, y'know, the real world.
HT Rick Pearcey
HT Rick Pearcey
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Because He Lives
Imeem beats Youtube, hands down for selection of songs. I spent a lot more time a year ago looking for a good version of this on Youtube, and every single one had something wrong with it. It took a while on Imeem too, but here's a nice, classic version.
Happy Easter!!!
Because He Lives - Heritage Singers
Happy Easter!!!
Because He Lives - Heritage Singers
Saturday, April 11, 2009
It's About the Cross
Eldest Daughter found this video and has urged me to embed it for Easter weekend. In fact, she wanted me to do it yesterday, for Good Friday, but I had the other post yesterday. It's actually a Christmas song, and the youtube video is of some people (the Chongs) whom I don't know. They have very cute kids, though.
So there are a number of incongruities--the pictures of the adorable children go for about three minutes before the pictures relate directly to the meaning of the song. And putting up a Christmas song at Easter time may seem a bit odd. But any of you who know a particular evangelical Protestant tradition know that Christmas songs with Good Friday themes are not unknown in that context. (I'm dating myself by mentioning this, but Christine Wyrtzen's "Shadow of a Tree" was pretty popular when I was a teenager.)
I think it's an enjoyable video, and great words to the song. Thanks to the Chongs, whoever they may be, for sharing it.
So there are a number of incongruities--the pictures of the adorable children go for about three minutes before the pictures relate directly to the meaning of the song. And putting up a Christmas song at Easter time may seem a bit odd. But any of you who know a particular evangelical Protestant tradition know that Christmas songs with Good Friday themes are not unknown in that context. (I'm dating myself by mentioning this, but Christine Wyrtzen's "Shadow of a Tree" was pretty popular when I was a teenager.)
I think it's an enjoyable video, and great words to the song. Thanks to the Chongs, whoever they may be, for sharing it.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Baby stays awake, saves her own life
All of you parents out there, perhaps mothers especially, have been through nights when a baby simply will not go to sleep. Fuss, fuss, fuss. Or sometimes, happily wide awake...until you lay him down. Youngest Daughter started out alert in the delivery room and has continued to be alert since then, pretty much non-stop. And she was a night owl. At 3 a.m., she would wake up for a feeding, and no matter how low I tried to keep the lights, I'd see those bright, big eyes looking all around. Head turning. The world was just so interesting. Why would anybody want to sleep? Ever?
Well, now there's a disturbing story out of Canada with a happy ending (or a happy plateau for the moment), because a baby wouldn't go to sleep.
Two-month-old Kaylee Wallace has Joubert Syndrome, which is causing sleep apnea. She breathes fine on her own when awake but is ventilator dependent (to some extent or other) while asleep. Her parents had decided to "let her die" and donate her heart to another child using the non-heart-beating donor protocol. I've written about this protocol here. At Kaylee's hospital, they planned to wait five minutes after her heart stopped before declaring her dead, but in some places where they use this protocol they wait only 75 seconds before declaring an infant dead and taking his organs.
So, in a macabre death-watch, they carted Kaylee off to the operating room around a time when they expected her to go to sleep, took her off her ventilator, and...waited for her to fall asleep and die, or "die"--stop breathing, let her heartbeat stop for five minutes, refuse to revive her, and then harvest her heart for another child. But it was just one of those darned things: Kaylee was too interested in living. Maybe she thought the operating room looked cool. She wasn't ready to fall asleep. No, no, no. Who knows what they tried. It boggles the mind. Did somebody snuggle her to try to make her comfy, so she would fall asleep and die, so they could get her heart? I don't know. It's hard to imagine people participating in such a process. But she wouldn't play ball. The story says the process was supposed to go through if she died in two hours. So I'm guessing she stayed awake for two hours, bless her little heart. (Literally.) Just went on breathing.
The hospital says that Kaylee is "no longer a candidate" to be an organ donor, but that this determination is "subject to change." I assume that at a minimum this means they aren't just going to try this little dance of death over and over again, hoping to catch Kaylee sleeping. But it's unclear what would make her a candidate once again.
Meanwhile, her parents are "scared" by the fact that she didn't die! You see, they've made up their minds that Kaylee is dying (though this is questionable), and now they consider that if she dies without having her organs harvested, they have also "lost" another child who might have received her heart. Says her father, "If she's going to die, we got to keep trying. I want my child to pass on because she can't survive, and to save that child. This is our first child and the dreams of the grandparents, the hopes of the future...have been dashed, yet the hopes of another child doing the same thing is what we live on for here." Get that? What they are now living for is the hope that their baby may die in such a way that her organs can be harvested. And, "That's what scares us right now," Wallace said Tuesday, his voice cracking. "Losing our daughter's OK, I understand that, but I don't want to lose two."
I wonder what they will tell Kaylee if she lives.
Well, now there's a disturbing story out of Canada with a happy ending (or a happy plateau for the moment), because a baby wouldn't go to sleep.
Two-month-old Kaylee Wallace has Joubert Syndrome, which is causing sleep apnea. She breathes fine on her own when awake but is ventilator dependent (to some extent or other) while asleep. Her parents had decided to "let her die" and donate her heart to another child using the non-heart-beating donor protocol. I've written about this protocol here. At Kaylee's hospital, they planned to wait five minutes after her heart stopped before declaring her dead, but in some places where they use this protocol they wait only 75 seconds before declaring an infant dead and taking his organs.
So, in a macabre death-watch, they carted Kaylee off to the operating room around a time when they expected her to go to sleep, took her off her ventilator, and...waited for her to fall asleep and die, or "die"--stop breathing, let her heartbeat stop for five minutes, refuse to revive her, and then harvest her heart for another child. But it was just one of those darned things: Kaylee was too interested in living. Maybe she thought the operating room looked cool. She wasn't ready to fall asleep. No, no, no. Who knows what they tried. It boggles the mind. Did somebody snuggle her to try to make her comfy, so she would fall asleep and die, so they could get her heart? I don't know. It's hard to imagine people participating in such a process. But she wouldn't play ball. The story says the process was supposed to go through if she died in two hours. So I'm guessing she stayed awake for two hours, bless her little heart. (Literally.) Just went on breathing.
The hospital says that Kaylee is "no longer a candidate" to be an organ donor, but that this determination is "subject to change." I assume that at a minimum this means they aren't just going to try this little dance of death over and over again, hoping to catch Kaylee sleeping. But it's unclear what would make her a candidate once again.
Meanwhile, her parents are "scared" by the fact that she didn't die! You see, they've made up their minds that Kaylee is dying (though this is questionable), and now they consider that if she dies without having her organs harvested, they have also "lost" another child who might have received her heart. Says her father, "If she's going to die, we got to keep trying. I want my child to pass on because she can't survive, and to save that child. This is our first child and the dreams of the grandparents, the hopes of the future...have been dashed, yet the hopes of another child doing the same thing is what we live on for here." Get that? What they are now living for is the hope that their baby may die in such a way that her organs can be harvested. And, "That's what scares us right now," Wallace said Tuesday, his voice cracking. "Losing our daughter's OK, I understand that, but I don't want to lose two."
I wonder what they will tell Kaylee if she lives.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Quote of the week--If you don't help Herod, are you "honoring" him?
I usually don't do quotes of the week, but this one was really good.
From a commentator at Zippy's blog, apropos of Obama Catholics who defend Notre Dame in offering him an honorary degree with the "we are supposed to honor our leaders" shtick:
That just nails it.
From a commentator at Zippy's blog, apropos of Obama Catholics who defend Notre Dame in offering him an honorary degree with the "we are supposed to honor our leaders" shtick:
[T]he Magi's circumvention of Herod was in direct contrast to Paul's command to honor leaders.
That just nails it.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Optimistic naturalists
A correspondent was recently asking me about a particular argument naturalists sometimes use. Now, to me, this argument sounds so incredibly lame that I can never understand why smart people are the least bit impressed by it. It's just like saying, "Oh, never mind the evidence. I'm sure we'll figure that out eventually. Move along. Nothing to see here." Why would anybody listen to this?
But it's been put forward very seriously by various people and was worrying my correspondent, so Tim and I responded, and I have a post up at W4 based on that response.
The naturalist's argument basically goes, "Science has made great strides and achievements and has explained lots and lots of stuff that we didn't used to understand. So eventually, whatever it is that you are bringing up as evidence for the existence of God or for any entity that isn't strictly non-naturalistic will also be explained as a purely naturalistic phenomenon."
This is just such a bad argument. The sense in which science has made great strides and achievements--you know, finding the causes of diseases, discovering very small particles and figuring out how they interact, seeing the inner workings of the cell, figuring out the basic laws of planetary motion--in no sense tends to confirm that there is nothing but matter in the world and that everything has a physical cause. How could it?
To my mind, this is just one step up, if that, from the Bultmannian claim that we can't possibly believe in miracles in the age of the electric lightbulb.
But my W4 post is much more dignified than this little rant. (Ahem. Really. Much more dignified.) Enjoy.
But it's been put forward very seriously by various people and was worrying my correspondent, so Tim and I responded, and I have a post up at W4 based on that response.
The naturalist's argument basically goes, "Science has made great strides and achievements and has explained lots and lots of stuff that we didn't used to understand. So eventually, whatever it is that you are bringing up as evidence for the existence of God or for any entity that isn't strictly non-naturalistic will also be explained as a purely naturalistic phenomenon."
This is just such a bad argument. The sense in which science has made great strides and achievements--you know, finding the causes of diseases, discovering very small particles and figuring out how they interact, seeing the inner workings of the cell, figuring out the basic laws of planetary motion--in no sense tends to confirm that there is nothing but matter in the world and that everything has a physical cause. How could it?
To my mind, this is just one step up, if that, from the Bultmannian claim that we can't possibly believe in miracles in the age of the electric lightbulb.
But my W4 post is much more dignified than this little rant. (Ahem. Really. Much more dignified.) Enjoy.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
I've Got the Joy
The rest of the family is recovered, and I'm on the road to recovery. Being able to breathe again more or less freely is nice.
I hope later to have a post linking and briefly summarizing a contentful post at W4 about science and naturalism. But as I haven't yet written that contentful post...below is a song by the Gofish guys called "I've Got the Joy." Normally I am a "less is more" kind of person in music and tend to look down a bit on fancy effects with electronics--voice altering, stuff like that. But these guys do it all with such an innocent love of fun, and of kids, that I can't help enjoying it. And it sure beats the version of "I've Got the Joy" that we sang in Sunday School when I was a kid!
Eldest Daughter (16) has found several of these Gofish videos on-line and plays them for Youngest Daughter (age 5). This particular one is probably their favorite, but there was a brief tragedy when it disappeared temporarily from Youtube. It's back now, and also safely downloaded in case it disappears again.
"I've Got the Joy" by Gofish:
I hope later to have a post linking and briefly summarizing a contentful post at W4 about science and naturalism. But as I haven't yet written that contentful post...below is a song by the Gofish guys called "I've Got the Joy." Normally I am a "less is more" kind of person in music and tend to look down a bit on fancy effects with electronics--voice altering, stuff like that. But these guys do it all with such an innocent love of fun, and of kids, that I can't help enjoying it. And it sure beats the version of "I've Got the Joy" that we sang in Sunday School when I was a kid!
Eldest Daughter (16) has found several of these Gofish videos on-line and plays them for Youngest Daughter (age 5). This particular one is probably their favorite, but there was a brief tragedy when it disappeared temporarily from Youtube. It's back now, and also safely downloaded in case it disappears again.
"I've Got the Joy" by Gofish:
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Inasmuch
2 1/2 years ago or so I read the story below on, of all sites, Little Green Footballs, in a comments thread. I have gone back since then and tried diligently to find that comment with the story, but I haven't been able to find it, so you'll have to take my word for it. I no longer read LGF. It's changed for the worse (to put it mildly). But this story will always remain with me and deserves to be told and heard more widely, even though it is hearsay. The comment author said that a family friend used to tell this story about herself--that is, she was the woman in the story--at meals with his family. And here it is, in my words, and as I remember it. I am not sure that the city was Odessa, though it was in that part of the world.
**************************************************************************
Once there was a woman who lived in Odessa. The Nazis came, and they began killing the Jews. One early morning, the woman went out with a basket on her arm to shop. As she was walking across a square in the city, she saw a large group of children coming, marshaled by a soldier. When they got near, the soldier said to her, "Ma'am, can you take any of these children with you? Perhaps even just one? They are Jewish children, and where I am taking them, they will die." One beautiful little boy broke away from the group and ran up to her. "Auntie," he said, "Please take me with you. I promise I won't eat much." She looked down at him for a moment, and then she slowly shook her head and hurried on. A few streets away, she was suddenly horrified at herself. She ran back to the square, but the children and the soldier were gone, and she never saw any of them again. And later in life, the only thing she could do to make amends was to tell what she had done.
**************************************************************************
And Jesus took a little child, and set him by him, and said unto them, "Whosoever shall receive this child in my name receiveth me: and whosoever shall receive me receiveth him that sent me."
Then shall the King say to those on his left, "Inasmuch as ye have not done it unto the least of these, ye have not done it unto me."
**************************************************************************
Once there was a woman who lived in Odessa. The Nazis came, and they began killing the Jews. One early morning, the woman went out with a basket on her arm to shop. As she was walking across a square in the city, she saw a large group of children coming, marshaled by a soldier. When they got near, the soldier said to her, "Ma'am, can you take any of these children with you? Perhaps even just one? They are Jewish children, and where I am taking them, they will die." One beautiful little boy broke away from the group and ran up to her. "Auntie," he said, "Please take me with you. I promise I won't eat much." She looked down at him for a moment, and then she slowly shook her head and hurried on. A few streets away, she was suddenly horrified at herself. She ran back to the square, but the children and the soldier were gone, and she never saw any of them again. And later in life, the only thing she could do to make amends was to tell what she had done.
**************************************************************************
And Jesus took a little child, and set him by him, and said unto them, "Whosoever shall receive this child in my name receiveth me: and whosoever shall receive me receiveth him that sent me."
Then shall the King say to those on his left, "Inasmuch as ye have not done it unto the least of these, ye have not done it unto me."
Sunday, March 15, 2009
They really do want your children
Most of you will have seen this post of mine already at W4, but for anyone who hasn't...My husband found an incredible, amazing quote from the well-known (now late) philosopher Richard Rorty openly bragging about discrediting Christian parents in their children's eyes, about reprograming them, and the like. I want to point out for those of you who are (understandably) hesitant about quoting what you see on the web that Tim verified this quotation from the "look inside" function for the book itself on Amazon. It's legit, and in fact the full version is even more shocking than the portion quoted on Wikipedia. Here's a teaser to get you to go to W4 if you aren't a regular W4 reader:
And there's more, here.
The fundamentalist parents of our fundamentalist students think that the entire “American liberal establishment” is engaged in a conspiracy. Had they read Habermas, these people would say that the typical communication situation in American college classrooms is no more herrschaftsfrei [domination free] than that in the Hitler Youth camps.
These parents have a point. Their point is that we liberal teachers no more feel in a symmetrical communication situation when we talk with bigots than do kindergarten teachers talking with their students....When we American college teachers encounter religious fundamentalists, we do not consider the possibility of reformulating our own practices of justification so as to give more weight to the authority of the Christian scriptures. Instead, we do our best to convince these students of the benefits of secularization. We assign first-person accounts of growing up homosexual to our homophobic students for the same reasons that German schoolteachers in the postwar period assigned The Diary of Anne Frank....I think those students are lucky to find themselves under the benevolent Herrschaft [domination] of people like me, and to have escaped the grip of their frightening, vicious, dangerous parents.
And there's more, here.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Schiavo case trial transcripts available on-line
I am blogging this in multiple places to bring it to the attention of the Google bots for searching researchers. My thanks to Zippy who has put it up on his blog.
I have just finished an article for the forthcoming issue of The Christendom Review on some legal aspects of the Terri Schiavo case. In the course of doing research for it, I managed (by dint of much and persistent e-mailing) to get hold of the trial transcripts of all the witness testimony in the Schiavo case. As far as I have been able to tell, these transcripts are not available elsewhere on-line.
Because people will be studying and discussing Terri Schiavo's death (murder, I would say) for many years to come, it seems to me extremely important that the witness testimony be available. The judge's job was to decide that there was "clear and convincing evidence" that Terri would have wanted to be dehydrated to death. Judge Greer's opinion is on-line here. (Greer's opinion, unlike the testimony transcripts, has been available on-line all along.)
Greer's opinion does not quote the witness testimony he is using. He just alludes to it, sometimes extremely vaguely, and sometimes even erroneously. News stories usually contain only bits and pieces, and their sources are unclear.
Greer dismissed Diane Meyer's testimony on the basis of his erroneous belief that Karen Ann Quinlan died before 1982. It is interesting to see how Meyer stands up to George Felos, the opposing attorney, who tries to put words into her mouth and confuse her. She did an especially good job given that Felos apparently succeeded in temporarily convincing everyone at Terri's trial that Quinlan actually died in 1976 when her ventilator was removed. In fact, she lived until 1985.
On my personal web page I now have
--A PDF scan of the testimony transcript of Diane Meyer
--A PDF scan of the testimony transcript of Scott Schiavo
--A PDF scan of the testimony transcript of Joan Schiavo
--A complete transcript of all the witness testimony, including the testimony of Michael Schiavo and Mrs. Schindler, in a web page html form.
These five were the witnesses who claimed to have had conversations with Terri about end-of-life issues.
I owe the Diane Meyer transcript directly to Pat Anderson, one of the Schindlers' lawyers. I owe the complete transcript to Atty. Joe Bell, who took a PDF that he had from Pat Anderson and made a careful project of translating it into searchable text.
My hope is that now when people search "Schiavo" and "trial transcripts," "Diane Meyer," and other such phrases, they will have more luck than I did in finding these important documents on-line.
Cross-posted
I have just finished an article for the forthcoming issue of The Christendom Review on some legal aspects of the Terri Schiavo case. In the course of doing research for it, I managed (by dint of much and persistent e-mailing) to get hold of the trial transcripts of all the witness testimony in the Schiavo case. As far as I have been able to tell, these transcripts are not available elsewhere on-line.
Because people will be studying and discussing Terri Schiavo's death (murder, I would say) for many years to come, it seems to me extremely important that the witness testimony be available. The judge's job was to decide that there was "clear and convincing evidence" that Terri would have wanted to be dehydrated to death. Judge Greer's opinion is on-line here. (Greer's opinion, unlike the testimony transcripts, has been available on-line all along.)
Greer's opinion does not quote the witness testimony he is using. He just alludes to it, sometimes extremely vaguely, and sometimes even erroneously. News stories usually contain only bits and pieces, and their sources are unclear.
Greer dismissed Diane Meyer's testimony on the basis of his erroneous belief that Karen Ann Quinlan died before 1982. It is interesting to see how Meyer stands up to George Felos, the opposing attorney, who tries to put words into her mouth and confuse her. She did an especially good job given that Felos apparently succeeded in temporarily convincing everyone at Terri's trial that Quinlan actually died in 1976 when her ventilator was removed. In fact, she lived until 1985.
On my personal web page I now have
--A PDF scan of the testimony transcript of Diane Meyer
--A PDF scan of the testimony transcript of Scott Schiavo
--A PDF scan of the testimony transcript of Joan Schiavo
--A complete transcript of all the witness testimony, including the testimony of Michael Schiavo and Mrs. Schindler, in a web page html form.
These five were the witnesses who claimed to have had conversations with Terri about end-of-life issues.
I owe the Diane Meyer transcript directly to Pat Anderson, one of the Schindlers' lawyers. I owe the complete transcript to Atty. Joe Bell, who took a PDF that he had from Pat Anderson and made a careful project of translating it into searchable text.
My hope is that now when people search "Schiavo" and "trial transcripts," "Diane Meyer," and other such phrases, they will have more luck than I did in finding these important documents on-line.
Cross-posted
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Very miscellaneous
We, corporately, have a cold. That is, my family is now passing around a real doozy of a cold. So far I have been mostly spared, except for a pretty bad earache (of my own) and fatigue from going pointlessly into Youngest Daughter's room in the middle of the night when she's coughing her head off and saying, "Do you need anything? Do you need to go potty? Are you okay?"
However, this just adds to the general lack of inspiration for posts here at Extra Thoughts which seems to have been afflicting me for some five weeks or so now and for which I apologize to any readers I have retained. Over at W4 I have a new post about the latest and craziest manifestation of what I call the "choice devours itself" phenomenon: "Suicide assistance" as outright murder. The person who supposedly wants to die gets his hands held down by his "exit guide" if he changes his mind and tries to tear the plastic bag off his head. I can't help thinking, "They can't come up with anything worse than this," and then they do.
In other news that looks like satire but isn't, the AP just put up a headline this morning, "Karzai Welcomes Obama Call to Reach out to Taliban." That's right. You read that right. We're supposed to "reach out" to the Taliban. I suppose that's what they mean by Hope and Change--acting like liberal fools towards some of the most evil people in the world, people who have devoted their lives to figuring out how to murder more American civilians. Oh, wait, I missed it: We're supposed to be reaching out to the moderates in the Taliban. Well, that's different, of course. Glad we got that cleared up.
And finally, I had a mildly interesting technical thought in church this morning. (Priest: "The Lord be with you." Youngest Daughter: "Coughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcough." Eldest Daughter, "It looks like C. [Middle Daughter] is crying." Me (whispering to Middle Daughter): "What's wrong, honey?" Middle Daughter: "I'm losing my voice." Me: "Do you need anything now? Please don't cry." Middle Daughter: "I'm not crying." Priest: "Lift up your hearts..." And so forth.) Anyway, the technical thought was that probability theory is neutral as between substantive conclusions. There isn't such a thing as a "Christian" probability theory. That, I already knew. But people may be confused into thinking that it isn't neutral when we notice that some correct form of probabilistic modeling (like, say, Bayesian probability theory) helps us to model evidence accurately in a way that prevents certain confusions that anti-religious skeptics like to exploit.
I played "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus" for the postlude. I wonder if anyone besides my family recognized it. Years ago a friend (who is now Eastern Orthodox but was then Baptist) asked me, "Do Baptists have any Lent hymns?" Well, yes and no. It seems to me that all the dedication and devotion hymns are absolutely perfect for Lent. "Have Thine Own Way, Lord." "Take My Life and Let It Be." And especially, "Must Jesus Bear the Cross Alone." But not hymns any more specifically about Lent than that, for obvious historical reasons. Still, it would do some stuffy Anglicans good to learn, "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus" ("no turning back..." "the world behind me, the cross before me...") and all those others. And to sing them and enjoy them, too. And a good Lenten meditation into the bargain.
Okay, ththththat's all, folks.
However, this just adds to the general lack of inspiration for posts here at Extra Thoughts which seems to have been afflicting me for some five weeks or so now and for which I apologize to any readers I have retained. Over at W4 I have a new post about the latest and craziest manifestation of what I call the "choice devours itself" phenomenon: "Suicide assistance" as outright murder. The person who supposedly wants to die gets his hands held down by his "exit guide" if he changes his mind and tries to tear the plastic bag off his head. I can't help thinking, "They can't come up with anything worse than this," and then they do.
In other news that looks like satire but isn't, the AP just put up a headline this morning, "Karzai Welcomes Obama Call to Reach out to Taliban." That's right. You read that right. We're supposed to "reach out" to the Taliban. I suppose that's what they mean by Hope and Change--acting like liberal fools towards some of the most evil people in the world, people who have devoted their lives to figuring out how to murder more American civilians. Oh, wait, I missed it: We're supposed to be reaching out to the moderates in the Taliban. Well, that's different, of course. Glad we got that cleared up.
And finally, I had a mildly interesting technical thought in church this morning. (Priest: "The Lord be with you." Youngest Daughter: "Coughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcough." Eldest Daughter, "It looks like C. [Middle Daughter] is crying." Me (whispering to Middle Daughter): "What's wrong, honey?" Middle Daughter: "I'm losing my voice." Me: "Do you need anything now? Please don't cry." Middle Daughter: "I'm not crying." Priest: "Lift up your hearts..." And so forth.) Anyway, the technical thought was that probability theory is neutral as between substantive conclusions. There isn't such a thing as a "Christian" probability theory. That, I already knew. But people may be confused into thinking that it isn't neutral when we notice that some correct form of probabilistic modeling (like, say, Bayesian probability theory) helps us to model evidence accurately in a way that prevents certain confusions that anti-religious skeptics like to exploit.
I played "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus" for the postlude. I wonder if anyone besides my family recognized it. Years ago a friend (who is now Eastern Orthodox but was then Baptist) asked me, "Do Baptists have any Lent hymns?" Well, yes and no. It seems to me that all the dedication and devotion hymns are absolutely perfect for Lent. "Have Thine Own Way, Lord." "Take My Life and Let It Be." And especially, "Must Jesus Bear the Cross Alone." But not hymns any more specifically about Lent than that, for obvious historical reasons. Still, it would do some stuffy Anglicans good to learn, "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus" ("no turning back..." "the world behind me, the cross before me...") and all those others. And to sing them and enjoy them, too. And a good Lenten meditation into the bargain.
Okay, ththththat's all, folks.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
A conjecture
I conjecture that the present economic difficulties of the U.S. will strengthen the grip of political correctness in both business and in higher education. People will be afraid either of losing their jobs or of not being hired in the first place and hence will be more susceptible than ever to intimidation, more careful than ever not to say anything to offend the noisiest and nastiest of the bullies in their fields. I would think the effect might even be stronger in the business world than in the academy. In the business world you can't even say, "I have tenure."
What do you think?
Crossposted at W4
What do you think?
Crossposted at W4
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Comic relief
I have been doing taxes. This is not fun. It will give me a break to pass along something funny. (HT Esteemed husband)
If you want to read a normal and serious blog post on a (very) serious subject from me, here is my most recent post at W4.
But now for something completely different. I thought the appeal of this might depend on one's being of a (ahem) age to have heard it a bit closer to its original time period, but evidently not. All three of the young McGrews, even the one who usually thinks jokes are "weird," have been going around singing this and laughing their heads off. So I guess it has age-transcending humor value.
Poor elf. I hope someone can help him out.
If you want to read a normal and serious blog post on a (very) serious subject from me, here is my most recent post at W4.
But now for something completely different. I thought the appeal of this might depend on one's being of a (ahem) age to have heard it a bit closer to its original time period, but evidently not. All three of the young McGrews, even the one who usually thinks jokes are "weird," have been going around singing this and laughing their heads off. So I guess it has age-transcending humor value.
Poor elf. I hope someone can help him out.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
How to get hold of a person
Among the many vital life skills I'm going to have to convey to my poor children before sending them off to live on their own, one that I have had to hammer out for myself (it not having been necessary when I was twenty years old) is this: How do you get past the determination of government agencies and big companies not to let you speak to a real human being?
It's getting ridiculous. I'm going to a conference next summer which requires a passport. I picked up the form at the post office, looked it over, and had a bunch of questions. Like, "When it says 'mother's place of birth,' is state enough, or do I have to know the city?" These are not going to be found in a pre-recorded message. So I call my local post office and get a recorded message saying, "If you need information on passports, hang up and dial ________." So I hang up and dial the number, where I get a recorded phone tree, one branch of which is "information on passports." I (stupidly--I should know better by this time) press that button and get recorded information which is obviously not going to answer my seventeen detailed questions about the application form. So I hang up and try again. This time I refuse to press any of the phone tree options. The phone tree, by the way, is run by a perky-voiced computer. The only way, I discover, to get it to give you a human being is to say something the perky lady computer can't understand. When I say, "Other information," the computer says, "Okay, state briefly what you are calling about." When I say, "I have some questions about how to fill out a passport application form," the computer says, "You want passport information, is that right?" I say, "Not if you're just going to send me back to that pre-recorded message." "I'm sorry," says the computer, "I couldn't tell if you answered yes or no." I yell, "I want to speak to a human being!" The computer says, "I'm sorry, I couldn't understand you." After a little while of this back and forth, it transfers me to a human being. I state my purpose in calling. The human representative says, in a bored voice, "If you want information about passports, you have to call the National Passport Information service." After expressing a little outrage, I ask for that phone number, hang up, and dial it.
At the Passport Information Service I encounter another phone tree. But this time I'm canny. I resist the temptation to press 3 for information on applying for a passport, because I know it will be a recorded message rather than anything that will answer my questions. I sit on my hands and grit my teeth, even when we get to the end of all the options and none is given for speaking to a representative. (The National Passport Information Service doesn't have a chatty computer.) But magically, when I just sit there for about five full, long, seconds, it says, "Hold on while I transfer you to a customer service representative." It worked! This final person has a very heavy Asian accent and is barely understandable, and she has trouble understanding some of my questions, but she answers most of them. Phew! Mission accomplished.
It's getting ridiculous. And more seriously, if I weren't already used to this problem, it could sometimes be scary. I cannot count the number of times that I have wondered if it would ever be possible to get hold of a person to answer a specific question and what I would do if it turned out to be impossible to reach anyone. Companies and government bureaus have stopped even offering you the human representative option. It's a game: Can you figure out how to get to talk to a human? So here are my tips, when "speak to a customer service representative" is not a given option.
1) Say something the talking computer can't understand. I've used this successfully with JC Penney now as well as the Post Office.
2) Press zero. This has worked many times even when the computer didn't list zero as an option in the phone tree. It usually doesn't do any harm to try it, but wait until after all the options in the phone tree have been listed. I seem to recall using it successfully with banks.
(Either 1 or 2 is necessary for sending a package from your house using Federal Express, but I can't remember now which it is.)
3) Wait until all options have been given and then sit tight. Count to ten, at least, to see if it rings you over to a human representative.
4) Hang up, call back, and see if you responded to the phone tree too early. There may have been an earlier point in the process where one of the above options would have worked if you hadn't chosen a numbered option.
5) Most importantly, if you have a specific question, never fall for the invitation to press a number for "information," even if the description of the information corresponds to the area you want to ask about. It's almost always a long-winded recorded message that won't answer your question. And such messages are a dead-end road on the phone tree. There is never an option given to speak to a representative after you patiently listen to the recorded information. It's just a waste of time.
There is something mildly alarming about the fact that we even have to talk about this stuff. But I'm quite serious about telling my kids how to do it. With humor, but I'll certainly tell them. I can imagine some young person newly out of the nest and trying desperately to get his electrical service connected, unable to get hold of a human being.
The world shouldn't be like this.
It's getting ridiculous. I'm going to a conference next summer which requires a passport. I picked up the form at the post office, looked it over, and had a bunch of questions. Like, "When it says 'mother's place of birth,' is state enough, or do I have to know the city?" These are not going to be found in a pre-recorded message. So I call my local post office and get a recorded message saying, "If you need information on passports, hang up and dial ________." So I hang up and dial the number, where I get a recorded phone tree, one branch of which is "information on passports." I (stupidly--I should know better by this time) press that button and get recorded information which is obviously not going to answer my seventeen detailed questions about the application form. So I hang up and try again. This time I refuse to press any of the phone tree options. The phone tree, by the way, is run by a perky-voiced computer. The only way, I discover, to get it to give you a human being is to say something the perky lady computer can't understand. When I say, "Other information," the computer says, "Okay, state briefly what you are calling about." When I say, "I have some questions about how to fill out a passport application form," the computer says, "You want passport information, is that right?" I say, "Not if you're just going to send me back to that pre-recorded message." "I'm sorry," says the computer, "I couldn't tell if you answered yes or no." I yell, "I want to speak to a human being!" The computer says, "I'm sorry, I couldn't understand you." After a little while of this back and forth, it transfers me to a human being. I state my purpose in calling. The human representative says, in a bored voice, "If you want information about passports, you have to call the National Passport Information service." After expressing a little outrage, I ask for that phone number, hang up, and dial it.
At the Passport Information Service I encounter another phone tree. But this time I'm canny. I resist the temptation to press 3 for information on applying for a passport, because I know it will be a recorded message rather than anything that will answer my questions. I sit on my hands and grit my teeth, even when we get to the end of all the options and none is given for speaking to a representative. (The National Passport Information Service doesn't have a chatty computer.) But magically, when I just sit there for about five full, long, seconds, it says, "Hold on while I transfer you to a customer service representative." It worked! This final person has a very heavy Asian accent and is barely understandable, and she has trouble understanding some of my questions, but she answers most of them. Phew! Mission accomplished.
It's getting ridiculous. And more seriously, if I weren't already used to this problem, it could sometimes be scary. I cannot count the number of times that I have wondered if it would ever be possible to get hold of a person to answer a specific question and what I would do if it turned out to be impossible to reach anyone. Companies and government bureaus have stopped even offering you the human representative option. It's a game: Can you figure out how to get to talk to a human? So here are my tips, when "speak to a customer service representative" is not a given option.
1) Say something the talking computer can't understand. I've used this successfully with JC Penney now as well as the Post Office.
2) Press zero. This has worked many times even when the computer didn't list zero as an option in the phone tree. It usually doesn't do any harm to try it, but wait until after all the options in the phone tree have been listed. I seem to recall using it successfully with banks.
(Either 1 or 2 is necessary for sending a package from your house using Federal Express, but I can't remember now which it is.)
3) Wait until all options have been given and then sit tight. Count to ten, at least, to see if it rings you over to a human representative.
4) Hang up, call back, and see if you responded to the phone tree too early. There may have been an earlier point in the process where one of the above options would have worked if you hadn't chosen a numbered option.
5) Most importantly, if you have a specific question, never fall for the invitation to press a number for "information," even if the description of the information corresponds to the area you want to ask about. It's almost always a long-winded recorded message that won't answer your question. And such messages are a dead-end road on the phone tree. There is never an option given to speak to a representative after you patiently listen to the recorded information. It's just a waste of time.
There is something mildly alarming about the fact that we even have to talk about this stuff. But I'm quite serious about telling my kids how to do it. With humor, but I'll certainly tell them. I can imagine some young person newly out of the nest and trying desperately to get his electrical service connected, unable to get hold of a human being.
The world shouldn't be like this.
Friday, February 13, 2009
The liberal refusal to face implacable evil
On What's Wrong with the World I have a very brief post connecting part of the quotation below to Britain's refusal to admit Geert Wilders to the UK. The quotation fits very well in that context, but here I am giving it in full. It is a short capsule review by Lawrence Auster of a book by Ruth Wisse called If I am Not for Myself: The Liberal Betrayal of the Jews. Here is Auster's summary:
I've not read the Wisse book, but it makes me want to go right out and do so. What I do not say in the W4 post (because I was making a different connection) is that this same problem bedevils Israel itself. The reason Israel is so infuriating for her hawkish supporters, like me, is because there are all too many Israelis who have this very problem: Despite the overwhelming evidence of the existence of an "unappeasable Other" in the form of the "Palestinians," not enough Israelis are willing to give up the sham of the "peace process." Partly this is America's fault, as President after President, including (shamefully) President Bush, insists on the continued pretense that there is some point to "negotiations" and that the former PLO (of all things) is a "peace partner" for Israel. This dangerous and suicidal rubbish never ends, and because Israel is too dependent on the good will of the U.S., they never tell us to go jump in the lake. But make no mistake: They have their own internal liberals who meet the above description to a T and who hate the truth-speaking Right in their own country.
And Western nations do something similar with respect to their immigrant Muslim population.
In this lucidly written, devastating anatomy of the liberal mind, Ruth Wisse shows how Jewish liberalism has weakened Jewish resolve in the face of Arab rejectionism and has unwittingly given anti-Semitism a new lease on life. Liberals cannot admit the existence of real evil, of an enemy beyond the reach of reason, of an unappeasable Other. The result is a fatal collusion "between the aggressor, who wants to conceal his intention in order to execute it effectively, and the liberal fundamentalist, who has to deny aggression so that he can continue to believe that humans were created in his image." Thus liberals, grown weary of opposing an unrelenting and unreasoning Arab rejectionism, have concluded that the cause of anti-Semitism must be Israel's own behavior. Beyond its immediate focus on the Jews, the larger interest of this book lies in what it has to say about liberalism--namely about the inability of liberals to oppose the forces of evil that would destroy the nations of the West.
I've not read the Wisse book, but it makes me want to go right out and do so. What I do not say in the W4 post (because I was making a different connection) is that this same problem bedevils Israel itself. The reason Israel is so infuriating for her hawkish supporters, like me, is because there are all too many Israelis who have this very problem: Despite the overwhelming evidence of the existence of an "unappeasable Other" in the form of the "Palestinians," not enough Israelis are willing to give up the sham of the "peace process." Partly this is America's fault, as President after President, including (shamefully) President Bush, insists on the continued pretense that there is some point to "negotiations" and that the former PLO (of all things) is a "peace partner" for Israel. This dangerous and suicidal rubbish never ends, and because Israel is too dependent on the good will of the U.S., they never tell us to go jump in the lake. But make no mistake: They have their own internal liberals who meet the above description to a T and who hate the truth-speaking Right in their own country.
And Western nations do something similar with respect to their immigrant Muslim population.
Milton Friedman on Capitalism: Donahue gets more than he bargained for
This is great. Friedman makes some excellent points. Donahue's loaded questions are posed as if there is some actual alternative polity under consideration that directly encourages virtue and is based on high-minded ideals. Friedman exposes Donahue's assumptions by going on the attack rather than playing defense. And he never misses a beat. Even the audience, likely inclined to favor Donahue, cannot help laughing.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
And now for some shmaltz
Or is that "schmaltz"? I'm too lazy to go look it up. The one and only Julie Andrews and "Our Love is Here To Stay."
Monday, February 02, 2009
Audio of me on the radio
The audio is now up of my interview last night (Feb. 1) on the James Allen Show in Phoenix. Go here and choose the top item in the audio archives. I come in at about 4 minutes, I'm told. The commercials are still in there, so you can try to slide through those.
Bill Luse points out to me that I should have mentioned that my writing on the subject of religion in the public square is best exemplified by my article in The Christendom Review. That was in fact why I suggested the topic to James Allen when he made contact with me about being on. He's quite right. I should have put it into my notes for the interview.
Editor of What's Wrong with the World Paul Cella has absolved me for mispronouncing his name. The C is soft rather than Italianate.
James Allen did an excellent job as an interviewer. I had a lot of fun doing the interview, and if you have some time, you may enjoy listening to it.
Bill Luse points out to me that I should have mentioned that my writing on the subject of religion in the public square is best exemplified by my article in The Christendom Review. That was in fact why I suggested the topic to James Allen when he made contact with me about being on. He's quite right. I should have put it into my notes for the interview.
Editor of What's Wrong with the World Paul Cella has absolved me for mispronouncing his name. The C is soft rather than Italianate.
James Allen did an excellent job as an interviewer. I had a lot of fun doing the interview, and if you have some time, you may enjoy listening to it.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Songs to Die For--"If Heaven"
I know nothing about country music, but I just heard this song for the first time at Stony Creek Digest, the blog of my cyber-friend Jeff Culbreath. "If Heaven," by Andy Griggs.
I note the allusion to "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes"--"If heaven was a tear, it'd be my last one."
My "Songs to Die For" series started here, with "Poor, Wayfarin' Stranger," almost a year and a half ago now. They don't have their own label. I probably should give them one, but for now they are scattered among the "hymns" and "songs that are not hymns" label. They are (almost) all songs related to death or heaven.
"If Heaven" has several unexpectedly profound things in it. For example, there is the verse that begins, "If Heaven was a pie it would be cherry," which hardly seems like a promising beginning. But then there is this line: "And just one bite would satisfy your hunger/And there'd always be enough for everyone." Which reminded Eldest Daughter, when she heard it, of the following section of Dante:
Or as Augustine says, "Truth ravishes all her lovers, yet is faithful to each."
I've just finished reading The Last Battle to Youngest Daughter, so heaven has been on my mind a good deal. When "If Heaven" connects heaven with earthly joys--finding the people you love alive, your home town, the best memories of childhood--I am reminded of this passage in The Last Battle. Professor Digory is speaking first:
Oh, and while we're at it, when I put up my post last year on B. J. Thomas's "Home Where I Belong," it was not available on Youtube (or I didn't know how to find it). But it is now. And so as a bonus, here it is, too.
I wish they could play that one at my funeral.
Hebrews 11:13-16, "These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off...and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country...But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly, wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he hath prepared for them a city."
I note the allusion to "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes"--"If heaven was a tear, it'd be my last one."
My "Songs to Die For" series started here, with "Poor, Wayfarin' Stranger," almost a year and a half ago now. They don't have their own label. I probably should give them one, but for now they are scattered among the "hymns" and "songs that are not hymns" label. They are (almost) all songs related to death or heaven.
"If Heaven" has several unexpectedly profound things in it. For example, there is the verse that begins, "If Heaven was a pie it would be cherry," which hardly seems like a promising beginning. But then there is this line: "And just one bite would satisfy your hunger/And there'd always be enough for everyone." Which reminded Eldest Daughter, when she heard it, of the following section of Dante:
"It is because your desires are fixed where the part is lessened by sharing that envy blows the bellows to your sighs; but if the love of the highest sphere bent upward your longing, that fear would not be in your breast. For there, the more they are who say ours, the more of good does each possess and the more of charity burns in that cloister....That infinite and unspeakable good which is there above speeds to love as a sunbeam comes to a bright body; so much it gives of itself as it finds of ardour, so that the more charity extends the more does the eternal goodness increase upon it, and the more souls that are enamoured there above the more there are to be rightly loved and the more love there is and like a mirror the one returns it to the other." (Purgatorio, XV, 49ff, Virgil to Dante when they leave the terrace of the purgation of envy)
Or as Augustine says, "Truth ravishes all her lovers, yet is faithful to each."
I've just finished reading The Last Battle to Youngest Daughter, so heaven has been on my mind a good deal. When "If Heaven" connects heaven with earthly joys--finding the people you love alive, your home town, the best memories of childhood--I am reminded of this passage in The Last Battle. Professor Digory is speaking first:
"You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy. All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. And of course it is different; as different as a real thing is from a shadow or as waking life is from a dream."...It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right forehoof on the ground and neighed and then cried: "I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this."Like, and yet unlike, the joys of this earth. As Lewis says in The Great Divorce, everything good that dies will be resurrected, but it must die first.
Oh, and while we're at it, when I put up my post last year on B. J. Thomas's "Home Where I Belong," it was not available on Youtube (or I didn't know how to find it). But it is now. And so as a bonus, here it is, too.
I wish they could play that one at my funeral.
Hebrews 11:13-16, "These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off...and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country...But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly, wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he hath prepared for them a city."
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Here's something really funny
I want to announce that next week, February 1, I will be interviewed on the James Allen Show, a talk radio show out of Phoenix, AZ, on religion in the public square and, to some extent, reason and faith. The show goes from 8-9 p.m. Phoenix time. The "What time is it" web site tells me that this should be 10-11 p.m. Michigan time. I'm supposed to be on starting at about 8:15 Phoenix time. Readers, please tell me if I'm missing something here about the time, as I want to be sure to call in at the right time. I've never done anything like this before and am rather nervous about it, but I think Mr. Allen has some good questions planned.
He sent me, for fun, some mock commercials his show had produced, and he kindly gave me permission to put up a link to this one. It hasn't been aired yet, as far as I know, and it is very funny. It spoofs the campaign of a Republican Presidential primary candidate whose initials are R. P. and whose name rhymes with "Don Ball." If any of you are wondering about my precautions in naming this person, they arise from the fact that during the primary this candidate's rather creepy followers (who are his worst enemies, in my opinion), had Google set to notify them whenever his name appeared anywhere, however obscurely, on the web. They would then descend upon any such post like the proverbial wolf on the fold. And I don't want that to happen here.
I'm also posting this because, as Zippy will know from our economic debates, I'm somewhat sympathetic to criticisms of fiat money, and I wouldn't want it to be thought that I've lost my sense of humor. We've had a good laugh here at my house about the paper money bills with Paulian slogans hand written all over them, referred to in this commercial. Maybe you've seen the notes on the money, too.
So click on the link above and enjoy the commercial. And remember--resistance to the New World Order is futile...
He sent me, for fun, some mock commercials his show had produced, and he kindly gave me permission to put up a link to this one. It hasn't been aired yet, as far as I know, and it is very funny. It spoofs the campaign of a Republican Presidential primary candidate whose initials are R. P. and whose name rhymes with "Don Ball." If any of you are wondering about my precautions in naming this person, they arise from the fact that during the primary this candidate's rather creepy followers (who are his worst enemies, in my opinion), had Google set to notify them whenever his name appeared anywhere, however obscurely, on the web. They would then descend upon any such post like the proverbial wolf on the fold. And I don't want that to happen here.
I'm also posting this because, as Zippy will know from our economic debates, I'm somewhat sympathetic to criticisms of fiat money, and I wouldn't want it to be thought that I've lost my sense of humor. We've had a good laugh here at my house about the paper money bills with Paulian slogans hand written all over them, referred to in this commercial. Maybe you've seen the notes on the money, too.
So click on the link above and enjoy the commercial. And remember--resistance to the New World Order is futile...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Uneasy nights post on W4
I have few readers here who do not also read What's Wrong with the World, but for those few, I want to highlight my new post there called "For Uneasy Nights." It is my recommendation about how we should pray for Barack Obama.
Monday, January 19, 2009
I Am Excited
...about something this week. But it certainly isn't the inauguration of Barack Obama, that's for sure.
It's the commutation of the sentences of former border agents Ramos and Compean, which they received for shooting a drug dealer in the rear end. This commutation, after two years in federal prison, isn't justice for them, but it's better than their being left in prison for eight more years. News reports say that they will be in prison for a couple more months. I hope they stay safe.
It's the commutation of the sentences of former border agents Ramos and Compean, which they received for shooting a drug dealer in the rear end. This commutation, after two years in federal prison, isn't justice for them, but it's better than their being left in prison for eight more years. News reports say that they will be in prison for a couple more months. I hope they stay safe.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Looking up legal docs
Update: Document found. Thanks to Jonathan Prejean, who directed me to LEXIS/NEXIS. Yeah, I know: Why didn't I check that myself first. Well, see, I've never done it before, and... It took a bit of searching even there, but I now have the entire text. An interesting document. It looks to me like the 2DCA was very reluctant to say that her death was not "imminent," and that this was why they referred it to the Supreme Court as a question. There is even an urgent little bit at the end where they ask the Supreme Court to hurry up and hear the case lest (heaven forbid) the person in question should die with feeding and hydration in place while waiting for the courts to "assert her right of privacy." In fact, that's exactly what did happen in this case. But it does contain the "err on the side of life" direction, for what it is worth.
**************************************************************
(Original post)
Not being a lawyer, I refer the following question to my sage readership. How can I get a copy of the actual text of the following appellate court opinion from Florida?
In re Guardianship of Browning, 543 So.2d 258 (Fla. 2d DCA 1989)
I rather fancy myself a rad Googler, but I've googled 'n' googled, and what I've come up with is the Florida Supreme Court opinion by the same name from 1990, here, and a summary of the 2DCA appellate court's opinion, here. It's at least mildly interesting that the summary of the 2DCA opinion says that it held that "a guardian of a patient who is incompetent but not in a permanent vegetative state, and who suffers from an incurable but not necessarily terminal condition, cannot terminate life-sustaining treatment and feeding by tube." The Supreme Court decision by the same name holds just the opposite. In fact, it concludes that a person's death is "imminent" if that person's death will be imminent if food and hydration are removed. Cute, huh? So all of us are "imminently" dying. One would normally conclude that the Florida Supreme Court had simply overturned the 2DCA on this point, yet the Supreme Court's decision is worded rather as an answer to a "question" which the 2DCA has referred to it. In fact, there's no reference in the Supreme Court's opinion at all to the fact (if the summary article is right) that it is coming to the opposite conclusion to that of the appellate court on a fairly important point. Just to make things a little more interesting, the appellate opinion is often quoted as stating that a proxy must "err on the side of life" when trying to decide what a ward's wishes would be regarding treatment (where "treatment" includes, perversely, food and water), but the Supreme Court decision neither affirms nor rejects this instruction. It doesn't mention it at all.
All of this makes me curious to see the full text of the appellate court's decision. Since Google has failed me, I'd like to know what to try next. Esteemed husband has a pretty good interlibrary loan service here at Big State University, but there is (as far as I'm aware) not an actual law library. Does one simply take the reference for the opinion to ILL and say, "Here, find me a copy of this, please"? Or is there some other database one can sign into to see it if one's university subscribes?
This is all for an article I'm working on that will be a restrospective of some of the legal issues surrounding the murder of Terri Schiavo.
Thanks to all you legal eagles in my readership for info.
**************************************************************
(Original post)
Not being a lawyer, I refer the following question to my sage readership. How can I get a copy of the actual text of the following appellate court opinion from Florida?
In re Guardianship of Browning, 543 So.2d 258 (Fla. 2d DCA 1989)
I rather fancy myself a rad Googler, but I've googled 'n' googled, and what I've come up with is the Florida Supreme Court opinion by the same name from 1990, here, and a summary of the 2DCA appellate court's opinion, here. It's at least mildly interesting that the summary of the 2DCA opinion says that it held that "a guardian of a patient who is incompetent but not in a permanent vegetative state, and who suffers from an incurable but not necessarily terminal condition, cannot terminate life-sustaining treatment and feeding by tube." The Supreme Court decision by the same name holds just the opposite. In fact, it concludes that a person's death is "imminent" if that person's death will be imminent if food and hydration are removed. Cute, huh? So all of us are "imminently" dying. One would normally conclude that the Florida Supreme Court had simply overturned the 2DCA on this point, yet the Supreme Court's decision is worded rather as an answer to a "question" which the 2DCA has referred to it. In fact, there's no reference in the Supreme Court's opinion at all to the fact (if the summary article is right) that it is coming to the opposite conclusion to that of the appellate court on a fairly important point. Just to make things a little more interesting, the appellate opinion is often quoted as stating that a proxy must "err on the side of life" when trying to decide what a ward's wishes would be regarding treatment (where "treatment" includes, perversely, food and water), but the Supreme Court decision neither affirms nor rejects this instruction. It doesn't mention it at all.
All of this makes me curious to see the full text of the appellate court's decision. Since Google has failed me, I'd like to know what to try next. Esteemed husband has a pretty good interlibrary loan service here at Big State University, but there is (as far as I'm aware) not an actual law library. Does one simply take the reference for the opinion to ILL and say, "Here, find me a copy of this, please"? Or is there some other database one can sign into to see it if one's university subscribes?
This is all for an article I'm working on that will be a restrospective of some of the legal issues surrounding the murder of Terri Schiavo.
Thanks to all you legal eagles in my readership for info.
Monday, January 12, 2009
"Little Jazz Bird" by Glad
And a big HT to reader Stuart for suggesting imeem as a source of Glad clips. I'd been looking all over Youtube for a good recording of "Little Jazz Bird," but with no luck. (I didn't like the ones that were there, and of course they didn't have Glad.) Here is Glad's. I hope Gershwin won't be turning in his grave if I say that this song is absolutely adorable. It would be a lot of fun if some professional child singer had recorded it long ago--like Shirley Temple or somebody. The imeem clip is only missing a little bit at the end.
Little Jazz Bird - GLAD
Little Jazz Bird - GLAD
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Break out the world's smallest violin
Okay, I know I'm blogging more often here than usual, but can you believe this garbage???
An AP news story headlined "5 Pirates Drown With Ransom Share," and it tries to drum up sympathy for the pirates. For crying out loud! I say, thank God there is poetic justice in the world after all. But here are some bits from the story:
Well, cry me a river. See, they can't do anything but take innocent hostages and demand ransom, because that's one of the few ways of making money in their country! Piracy: Main source of income in Somalia. I feel so sad for them.
Or how about this...
I just love that quote from "Pirate Daud Nure." As if "pirate" were just some normal appellation. But I suppose we should be glad that the AP is revealing its source. And we're supposed to feel so bad that those nasty, nasty warships caused the death of the poor pirates because they might be (shiff) chasing them. And this is "grim news." God forbid we should have a sense of justice. Maybe they should have interviewed the relatives of some of the hostages and asked them if they think this news is grim.
I'm pretty nearly speechless. This is outrageous. I know that if I read more AP news stories I'd see more outrageous stuff than this, but this is the one that I happened to see today.
An AP news story headlined "5 Pirates Drown With Ransom Share," and it tries to drum up sympathy for the pirates. For crying out loud! I say, thank God there is poetic justice in the world after all. But here are some bits from the story:
Piracy is one of the few ways to make money in Somalia. Half the population is dependent on aid and a whole generation has grown up knowing nothing but war. A recent report by London's Chatham House think-tank said pirates raked in more than $30 million in ransoms last year.
Well, cry me a river. See, they can't do anything but take innocent hostages and demand ransom, because that's one of the few ways of making money in their country! Piracy: Main source of income in Somalia. I feel so sad for them.
Or how about this...
Abukar Haji, uncle of one of the dead pirates, blamed the naval surveillance for the accident that killed his pirate nephew Saturday.
"The boat the pirates were traveling in capsized because it was running at high speed because the pirates were afraid of an attack from the warships patrolling around," he said.
"There has been human and monetary loss but what makes us feel sad is that we don't still have the dead bodies of our relatives. Four are still missing and one washed up on the shore."
Pirate Daud Nure said three of the eight passengers had managed to swim to shore after the boat overturned in rough seas. He was not part of the pirate operation but knew those involved.
"Here in Haradhere the news is grim, relatives are looking for their dead," he said.
I just love that quote from "Pirate Daud Nure." As if "pirate" were just some normal appellation. But I suppose we should be glad that the AP is revealing its source. And we're supposed to feel so bad that those nasty, nasty warships caused the death of the poor pirates because they might be (shiff) chasing them. And this is "grim news." God forbid we should have a sense of justice. Maybe they should have interviewed the relatives of some of the hostages and asked them if they think this news is grim.
I'm pretty nearly speechless. This is outrageous. I know that if I read more AP news stories I'd see more outrageous stuff than this, but this is the one that I happened to see today.
A Cappella Gershwin
My old college friend Rich recommended this album to me when I had an earlier post about Glad. I only wish I could find a link that had more samples. Amazon appears to have no audio clips at all.
I got it for Eldest Daughter for a Christmas present, and in her jargon, "it's the bomb." (For all you old fogies like me out there, that's a compliment. I understand that "you are a total beast" is also a compliment.)
Anyway, it's excellent. Glad's top-notch musicianship is on display, as is what I read someone somewhere describing as "Ed Nalle's uncanny high tenor." Some of the pieces have words, some don't. Their vocal renditions of "American in Paris" and "Summertime" in the Gershwin medley are fantastic.
But my favorite was "Little Jazz Bird." I'd never heard it before and can't find a good Youtube or other on-line recording of it. Frankly, I can't stand these female jazz singers I find sort of simpering it out. Ick. But Glad does it straight up. If you should get the CD and hear the song, you'll have it going through your head and cheering you up for weeks. I recommend it.
I got it for Eldest Daughter for a Christmas present, and in her jargon, "it's the bomb." (For all you old fogies like me out there, that's a compliment. I understand that "you are a total beast" is also a compliment.)
Anyway, it's excellent. Glad's top-notch musicianship is on display, as is what I read someone somewhere describing as "Ed Nalle's uncanny high tenor." Some of the pieces have words, some don't. Their vocal renditions of "American in Paris" and "Summertime" in the Gershwin medley are fantastic.
But my favorite was "Little Jazz Bird." I'd never heard it before and can't find a good Youtube or other on-line recording of it. Frankly, I can't stand these female jazz singers I find sort of simpering it out. Ick. But Glad does it straight up. If you should get the CD and hear the song, you'll have it going through your head and cheering you up for weeks. I recommend it.
A word on life in Sderot
I've been restraining myself from writing much here or elsewhere on the situation in Israel. Those who read me here with religious regularity know that my opinions on Israel are somewhere to the right of Likud.
I thought this post was good on what life is like in Sderot. (HT View from the Right)
Few things make me angrier when I read people talking about Israel's response in Gaza than the nonsense about how few people have actually died from the continual and direct rocket attacks from Gaza over the years. They will also mention that those attacks do not by themselves threaten Israel's very existence. (And these are people who claim not to be anti-Israel, yet.) That's absolutely absurd. Think about this: The U.S. could move all of its citizens back fifty kilometers from its borders if rockets started coming over into, say, Laredo, Texas, and showed no sign of stopping. We could just tell the Laredans to live with it or leave, to let Laredo turn back into a ghost town. And the U.S. would survive as a country. We're a lot bigger than Israel, after all. But that would be a shocking abdication of our government's responsibility to protect its citizens, including those in border towns, from unprovoked attack by our neighbors.
No, an attack doesn't have to constitute a threat to a country's existence before there is a just cause of war in responding to it.
I thought this post was good on what life is like in Sderot. (HT View from the Right)
Few things make me angrier when I read people talking about Israel's response in Gaza than the nonsense about how few people have actually died from the continual and direct rocket attacks from Gaza over the years. They will also mention that those attacks do not by themselves threaten Israel's very existence. (And these are people who claim not to be anti-Israel, yet.) That's absolutely absurd. Think about this: The U.S. could move all of its citizens back fifty kilometers from its borders if rockets started coming over into, say, Laredo, Texas, and showed no sign of stopping. We could just tell the Laredans to live with it or leave, to let Laredo turn back into a ghost town. And the U.S. would survive as a country. We're a lot bigger than Israel, after all. But that would be a shocking abdication of our government's responsibility to protect its citizens, including those in border towns, from unprovoked attack by our neighbors.
No, an attack doesn't have to constitute a threat to a country's existence before there is a just cause of war in responding to it.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Back to the mundane--got any advice on Charter telephone?
From the intellectual to the mundane:
AT & T has gotten increasingly aggressive in their marketing, sending pairs of salesmen (one older woman and one young man each time) to thunder on my door repeatedly. They want to sell me a package in which I have to sign up for cable TV, which I do not want, have my house wired for it, and then cancel it. I really do not want to do this.
However, I am indeed paying too much for Charter internet service. Having internet with one company and phone with a different company does get you a poor price for each. So I'm thinking of switching my phone to Charter. Somehow I feel less nervous about making a change in my phone technology than making a change in my internet technology. This may not be rational, however.
Do any of my esteemed readers have experience with either AT & T internet (I hear it's DSL rather than cable modem) or Charter telephone? On Facebook I have so far one very negative review of AT & T internet service. In December, my Charter internet has had a few connectivity problems, but I will say that they have resolved them. More importantly, when I called tech support and talked to a person, I got a nice American guy with a charming southern accent who knew what he was talking about. This was a big improvement over someone with an Indian accent you could cut with a knife who patronized the customer and was clearly working from a flip chart. So I'm cautiously still satisfied with Charter internet. But they are charging me too much, which they will stop doing (they say) if I switch my phone to them.
Hmmm. One doesn't want one's phone suddenly not to be working right, either.
It would be ironic if A T & T's pushiness lost them a phone customer, though. The devil in me would sort of like to make that happen.
All advice taken in the spirit in which it is intended.
AT & T has gotten increasingly aggressive in their marketing, sending pairs of salesmen (one older woman and one young man each time) to thunder on my door repeatedly. They want to sell me a package in which I have to sign up for cable TV, which I do not want, have my house wired for it, and then cancel it. I really do not want to do this.
However, I am indeed paying too much for Charter internet service. Having internet with one company and phone with a different company does get you a poor price for each. So I'm thinking of switching my phone to Charter. Somehow I feel less nervous about making a change in my phone technology than making a change in my internet technology. This may not be rational, however.
Do any of my esteemed readers have experience with either AT & T internet (I hear it's DSL rather than cable modem) or Charter telephone? On Facebook I have so far one very negative review of AT & T internet service. In December, my Charter internet has had a few connectivity problems, but I will say that they have resolved them. More importantly, when I called tech support and talked to a person, I got a nice American guy with a charming southern accent who knew what he was talking about. This was a big improvement over someone with an Indian accent you could cut with a knife who patronized the customer and was clearly working from a flip chart. So I'm cautiously still satisfied with Charter internet. But they are charging me too much, which they will stop doing (they say) if I switch my phone to them.
Hmmm. One doesn't want one's phone suddenly not to be working right, either.
It would be ironic if A T & T's pushiness lost them a phone customer, though. The devil in me would sort of like to make that happen.
All advice taken in the spirit in which it is intended.
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