Summing up the "donnybrook" over Kennedy's passing ...

... which Tom and I observed with prayers for his soul, but otherwise complete indifference. So much for "a nation in mourning."

However, in other places the blogosphere was reeling from punches exchanged right and left by various Catholics. The Anchoress sums up in her inimitable way, while turning the focus back where it belongs ... on ourselves.

And we should perhaps consider what our acceptance of a preferred, easier-to-take narrative concerning a dreadful summer night in Massachusetts has wrought forty years on; we are now a society comfortable with relativistic “truthiness.” Something may be true, simply because one wishes it to be.

How culpable are we for that? How much damage did we do to Kennedy, and to ourselves, by indulging and enabling his reckless behavior, because we loved his familial myth?

A good piece (as all hers are) and one that should be read by anyone who wonders why politicians do what they do ... and who should also consider our culpability. That includes everyone, I think, including Tom and me.

The Butterfly Circus: Interesting, Original, Unusual, and Full of Hope

At the height of the Great Depression, the showman of a renowned circus leads his troupe through the devastated American landscape, lifting the spirits of audiences along the way. During their travels they discover a man without limbs at a carnival sideshow, but after an intriguing encounter with the showman he becomes driven to hope against everything he has ever believed. Starring Eduardo Verástegui (Bella), Doug Jones (Pan's Labyrinth, Fantastic Four) and featuring the debut performance of Nick Vujicic.

About 20 minutes long and well worth the time.

Catholic Media Review where I saw this mentioned, says it is up for only one day so don't delay.

What's my defining post?

That's the question raised by Jen at Conversion Diary. Sheez. That gal is great at coming up with interesting questions. She has her answer and for the rest of us to join in, is holding an impromptu carnival to see what everyone feels their own defining posts are.

I'll be thinking about this, but frankly I feel I am so all over the place with posts that I really am not sure. I mean do I go with something like the post I wrote about forgiveness, the post where I first 'fessed up I was married in a nightgown (not the one with the photo and story ... the prequel to that), or the first movie I want to see in heaven? There must be something in between that is more defining.

If anyone has suggestions, maybe something that just springs to mind, I'll be more than happy to hear them.

Back to Movie Watching ... With a Vengeance

It occurs to me that the three movies we watched this week all had an element of, shall we say, forcefulness that was unintentional. C'est la vie ...

• Chinatown
  The classic neo-noir movie starring Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway, featuring a host of "hey, it's that guy!" character actors. Rose loved this movie so much that she continually asked if I'd seen it yet. Well, now I can say yes and, sadly, tell her how unimpressed we both were. The look was great, the actors were great ... but where was the dialogue? Out for a nap, evidently. Accompanied by the plot, which I found less than impressive as well. My grade: B-/C+


• Gran Torino
  I basically knew the plot of an aging Korean war veteran, Walt Kowalski (Clint Eastwood), whose neighborhood has changed drastically as it filled with Hmong immigrants and now edges on ghetto. I was ready for the racist talk, the helping the picked-on kid next door to learn what it means to be a real man, the look at how America has changed. What I was completely unprepared for was the much larger lesson underlying the entire movie. I appreciated those who didn't spoil my discovery by spelling out more, so I also will leave that unrevealed. This is going into my Top 20 Movies list ... although I'm not sure what I'm going to kick out to make room. My grade: A+


• JCVD
  Here's what I knew about the movie. Jean-Claude Van Damme plays himself in a self-aware role. I liked that idea. More about the plot:
  

  Jean-Claude Van Damme is an aging action star going through a bitter divorce and custody battle. He needs money to pay his lawyers, and new roles are not exactly rolling in by the pile. With few doors left open in Hollywood, Van Damme opts to return to Brussels, his roots, in order to clear his head and maybe find a renewed career in the international market. Upon arriving in Brussels Van Damme travels to the local post-office to pick up the funds he needs to pay his lawyer, only to stumble into a robbery attempt that quickly turns into a hostage situation. Through a combination of bad luck and public (mis)perception, Van Damme gets fingered for the crime-in-progress; his face gets splashed all over the news, and even while cops surround the post-office, a larger crowd of fans begins to gather outside the post office in support of their hometown legend. (Screen Rant)

  Here's what I didn't know about the movie. We expected it to be played much more lightly, a la My Name is Bruce (haven't seen it, only read about it) where actor Bruce Campbell is called upon for help by a town who mistakenly thinks his movie powers apply to real life also. That movie was played very lightly as I understood it.
  
  We didn't expect to see an art house quality movie where Van Damme breaks the 4th wall repeatedly. A fairly simple story, it showcased Van Damme's acting abilities which were surprisingly good. As well, we know all the jokes about Van Damme's career. So, it seems, does he and these are used in a very effective spot where we see him factually assessing his life and career, for the good, the bad, and the ugly. I'm not sure if we liked it so much because it was so completely something we didn't expect or if it was just that good. At any rate, my grade: B.
  

May God, who has begun this good work in you, now bring it to fulfillment

Via Deacon Greg. And, yes, I cried.

UPDATE
The Anchoress didn't cry but instead had some very uplifting thoughts which she shared with us. Go and read.

Mother's Loving Goodbye Saves Her Baby's Life

... Doctors had told the parents that baby Rachel only had only minutes to live because her heart was beating once every ten seconds and she was not breathing.

Isbister remembers:

I didn’t want her to die being cold. So I lifted her out of her blanket and put her against my skin to warm her up. Her feet were so cold.

It was the only cuddle I was going to have with her, so I wanted to remember the moment.” Then something remarkable happened. The warmth of her mother’s skin kick started Rachael’s heart into beating properly, which allowed her to take little breaths of her own.

We couldn’t believe it – and neither could the doctors. She let out a tiny cry.

The doctors came in and said there was still no hope – but I wasn’t letting go of her. We had her blessed by the hospital chaplain, and waited for her to slip away. But she still hung on.

And then amazingly the pink color began to return to her cheeks. She literally was turning from gray to pink before our eyes, and she began to warm up too.

The sad part is that when the baby was born, doctors took one look at her and said ‘no’. ...

There is more and a current photo of mother and baby. Once again, doctors' don't always know everything and I'm sure they were thrilled to be proven wrong.

Via the indispensable New Advent.

Giants of the Frost

Fleeing a failed engagement and mother who makes life decisions based on a psychic’s predictions, skeptic Victoria Scott joins a weather team on a Scandinavian island. Harassed by insomnia and her unpredictable boss, she writes off her dreams of a breath-sucking hag and forest creature made of twigs as nightmares. Eventually, however, she discovers that these creatures are real and possibly the least of those she may encounter.

The island is actually Midgard, a gate between our world and that of the old Nordic god, Asgard. The book alternately tells Victoria’s story and that of Vidar, a son of Odin, who has been waiting a thousand years for Victoria to be born. In Vidar’s world we meet, among others, his bondmaid Aud, who tells much of the story, and his cousin Loki, trickster god of the Norse pantheon.

The beginning of my review of Giants of the Frost. Read it all at SFFaudio.

Heavens to Betsy, I Almost Forgot St. Monica!

Icon Source
where you also may find a three day novena to St. Monica
(I know ... three day novena ... never mind, you might like the prayers anyway)

I don't mention St. Monica yet, but she and her son, St. Augustine, and I have been on a prayer journey together since right after I came into the Church. I have a special intention and told them that I'd pray for ten years, if necessary, just like she did for her bad, wandering son's conversion.

Thank goodness I didn't realize it was 26 years (or something like that)!

Now, I may be praying for the entire 26 years (or something like that) anyway, because I know God doesn't answer prayers according to our timetables. Good thing I have St. Monica to help me out with persistence in the face of never seeing a single sign that your prayers for someone will be answered. (We're on year 8 by the way.)

St. Monica has much more to recommend her to us than her prayers and persistence over Augustine, however. She put up with a lot and, indeed, is an excellent example for those who might like to insist that though Christ turned the other cheek, we weren't meant to be door mats.

Monica was married to a pagan official by the name of Patricius. He was a very generous man, but violent tempered and dissolute, although tradition tells us he never laid a hand on her. She also had her mother-in-law living with her and this woman is described as being very cantankerous. Monica suffered much insult and ridicule because of her family, but her patience, gentleness, compassion and love won out in the end and both her husband and mother-in-law were converted.

A brief, but good history of her may be read here.

Proclaim It: I am a Roman Catholic. I am not ashamed.

Much thanks goes to expat whose email led me to this video.

Jesus is My Bestie?

Yesterday, I linked to Darwin Catholic's musings in Jesus is Not My Pal. Darwin was prompted by those who like to get reassurance that we know Jesus "personally" to considering the concept of Jesus as "best friend." Which he rejected.

... The ways in which I would normally envision Christ are not guy-next-door, my-buddy-the-savior kind of images. Christ the King, enthroned in eternal splendor into union with whom all Christians wish to enter for life everlasting. Christ Crucified, pouring out his blood for the sins of the whole world. Christ Risen, triumphing over the reign of death which had doomed humanity since the Fall. Christ in the Eucharist, kneeling before the glittering monstrance in which the Body of Christ forms the center of a sunburst of golden rays, with the crucifix above and the tabernacle behind.

I could relate to this. One of my favorite meditations, and I know I am not alone in this, is Psalm 139.

O LORD, you have probed me, you know me:
you know when I sit and stand; you understand my thoughts from afar.

My travels and my rest you mark; with all my ways you are familiar.
Even before a word is on my tongue, LORD, you know it all.

Behind and before you encircle me and rest your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is beyond me, far too lofty for me to reach.

Where can I hide from your spirit? From your presence, where can I flee?
If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; if I lie down in Sheol, you are there too.

If I fly with the wings of dawn and alight beyond the sea,
Even there your hand will guide me, your right hand hold me fast.

If I say, "Surely darkness shall hide me, and night shall be my light" --
Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one. ...

I think about this and then I reflect upon all life and creation coming to be through Jesus' creative power.

Well.

That fills me with awe.

Thinking of that all-creative being stooping to befriend me? Even more awe. And thankfulness. Natch.

Jesus being my bestie though? Nope. I'm not feeling it.

However, Darwin's meditation galvanized Diana, the Faithful Traveler (who makes some great videos of American shrines, y'all ... check them out), into commenting at length about her conception of what a best friend really is and how this translates into her relationship with Jesus. She put her comment both here and at Darwin's, where there are also some other good reflections, though none with the passion which Diana feels and communicates beautifully. I especially liked the prayer she shared, written by St. Augustine (his feast day is tomorrow, btw) which is clearly destined for my quote journal. I have long had a special affection for St. Augustine who is my first saint "bestie."

Prayer of Saint Augustine

O Jesus Christ, you are my Father, my merciful God, my great King, my good Shepherd, my only Master, my best helper, my beloved friend of overwhelming beauty, my living Bread, my eternal priest. You are my guide to my heavenly home, my one true light, my holy joy, my true way, my shining wisdom, my unfeigned simplicity, the peace and harmony of my soul, my perfect safeguard, my bounteous inheritance, my everlasting salvation.

My loving Lord, Jesus Christ, why have I ever loved or desired anything else in my life but you, my God? Where was I when I was not in communion with you? From now on, I direct all my desires to be inspired by you and centred on you. I direct them to press forward for they have tarried long enough, to hasten towards their goal, to seek the one they yearn for.

O Jesus, let him who does not love you be accursed, and filled with bitterness. O gentle Jesus, let every worthy feeling of mine show you love, take delight in you and admire you. O God of my heart and my inheritance, Christ Jesus, may my heart mellow before the influence of your spirit and may you live in me. May the flame of your love burn in my soul. May it burn incessantly on the altar of my heart. May it glow in my innermost being. May it spread its heat into the hidden recesses of my soul and on the day of my consummation may I appear before you consumed in your love. Amen.

I was plagued by this question after reading Diana's defense of Jesus as her best friend. I did not want to bother with it, truth to tell, but it recurred so often that I finally stopped what I was doing and just sat there considering how I would define my relationship with Jesus. I am truly indebted to Diana for her passion as otherwise it wouldn't have occurred to me to so something as simple as just sit and think about how I feel about Jesus. It's a good thing to do. I highly recommend it.

I possibly have shared before that I actually was moved to go on my CRHP retreat (gosh is it really over 5 years ago?) because I realized that I didn't know Jesus well enough. Or how about at all. I was reading book after book where saints and authors were going on and on about knowing Jesus personally. Finally, it occurred to me that I really ought to look into this if I was a Catholic. Certainly I never turned to Him in prayer.

God the Father, sure thing.

The Holy Spirit? Well, no. But no one I was reading at the time was rhapsodizing about the Holy Spirit so He was low on my radar. Ironically enough, I came out of CRHP formation realizing that I had a solid beginning to being in love with the Holy Spirit. That is a love and trust that has lasted and grown. It is a rare day indeed that goes by without my reaching out in prayer several times to the Holy Spirit.

However, this is about Jesus. I did experience Jesus during that CRHP retreat. Not as a friend, whether best or otherwise. As one of the three in one, working hand in hand with the Father and Holy Spirit. I realize that sounds vague but just trust me on this. It was the Trinity in force, albeit also individually, that I encountered. The Jesus I encountered was someone to know, love, and trust personally. But not a best friend. No.

Pondering, I realize now that the person I met in Jesus then and the person who I have become more and more fond of, trustful of, in love with, if you will ... is more than a best friend could be. He is my Master. And you know what? I'm ok with that.

He is my Master in the best possible way, in a way that we really have no equivalent for here on earth. He does embody all those qualities that we love and treasure in best friends. But there is so very much more. What comes to mind are two examples, both from The Lord of the Rings and both of which are better realized in the books than in the movies. Frodo and Sam are a wonderful example of a loving, trusting Master-servant relationship, that transcends best friend. The other that comes to mind is Gandalf and Frodo. I know that Tolkien's letters mentioned Gandalf as a guardian angel, but the loving, protective way that Gandalf guides Frodo and sacrifices himself for the others, while leaving Frodo free to make his own decisions, is for me an aspect of Jesus as my Master.

Clearly, our human language and relationships are all going to fall short of what Jesus means to each person. For Diana, he is "my best helper, my beloved friend of overwhelming beauty" and that is what speaks to her soul. I love that.

For me there is so much more that St. Augustine captures that rises above and goes beyond ... and they are all true for me as well. If I had to pick one sentence from that prayer that makes my heart sing and thrills my soul with recognition it would be this:

... my one true light, my holy joy, my true way, my shining wisdom, my unfeigned simplicity, the peace and harmony of my soul, my perfect safeguard ...

There is no word except the name of Jesus that means these for me. As we are human and must settle for words, however inadequate, I will settle as did St. Peter, St. Paul, and so many other greater souls before me ... my Lord and my God. My only Master.

On requiring conflict to be a good story ... and trying to find a good shoe to bang on the table

Jesse at SFFaudio turned in an excellent but thought-provoking review of Clifford D. Simak's Way Station, saying:

A couple years back a friend of mine (a filmmaker and used bookstore owner) was telling me about one of the scripts he was working on. He said something to the effect of “every story must have conflict.” That’s probably not a new concept, not original to him, but it was new to me – at least in those words. Now I love such sweeping declarations – they give my dialectical brain something to hack away at. It seems a fairly straightforward a concept – and on the face of it seems likely – but, that always gets me thinking: If it sounds so obvious it is probably at least partially false. So I thought about it for maybe thirty seconds and then pointed out that ‘pornographic films need not have conflict – but they can still have a story.’ Illustrating I said “Pizza delivery guy comes to the door – half naked woman answers – sex follows.” It has a beginning, a middle and a money shot. My friend and I both laughed. But, I’ve been thinking about this meme ever since. Now, with Way Station I think I have a more serious defeater to my friend’s all encompassing rule about storytelling. There is very little conflict in Way Station. That is actually a pretty common thing for author Clifford D. Simak. His stories are highly pastoral, full of backstories being revealed, mysterious farmers and friendly aliens. Conflict may be mentioned, as having happened long ago (or in some distant future) – but shots are rarely fired in anger. I’m thinking back on all of the Simak I’ve read, and in it all I can’t recall much conflict at all. And yet, I love his stories.

Intrigued, I couldn't remember if I had ever read Way Station so I requested it from the library. It really is a wonderful story, easy to read, and thought provoking in its own pastoral way.

However ...

You knew that was coming, right?

However, it is so far from being without conflict that I wondered if Jesse had actually read the same book I did. True enough the story is reflective, pastoral, and low key. Yet within those pages lies governmental interference, an abusive hillbilly father, an angry mob (and I think they might even have torches), galactic unrest, and an angry alien with a ray gun. That is without also taking into consideration the protagonist's very real concerns weighing his humanity and love of nature against his curiosity and desire to leave it behind and become a citizen of a larger world.

This has sparked an interesting conversation between Jesse and myself. As far as I can ascertain, his definition of conflict is so very different from mine as to require direct action. However, I could be wrong about that. (But let's face it, I don't really believe I am wrong about that! I am nothing if not self aware.)

I am hampered in this by having only Jesse's and my own opinions involved. If anyone else has read the book and has thoughts on the nature of conflict, its relationship to a good story, and whether it is contained in Way Station, please do join in the conversation. Nicely, of course.

Now, having found that I tend to wear soft-soled shoes, I am going in search of a properly hard soled one in order to begin pounding on the table!

Not long ago in a supermarket not so far away ...

Reposted for Mom and, frankly for me. I loved this.

Happy 21st Birthday, Hannah!

Where has the time gone?

From adorable little one to confident young woman ... all the time together has been a blessing to us. Even the tussles! Especially her gentle, loving spirit and sharp, intelligent humor (as evidenced in this superheroes series).

We will be going to Newport's for sophisticated seafood and for that all-important marker of being a legal adult, a cocktail in public.

I'm making a Doboschtorte, her favorite cake.

We're so happy that she is here with us this year and not already at college! (And we miss Rose, who is already in Chicago and we wish could be here with us for the celebration.)

I'm am repeating this viewing of the things she loves best, slightly updated ... simply lots and lots o' critters. (Don't just pick these up and pass them on, please. Click through on the links to check permissions, some of which I have obtained personally for this blog alone.)

Happy birthday , Hannah!

Cat Closeup

Owl

Goose

Colt

Mallard in Flight

Brown Hare

Pelican

Dinner Guest

Crystal River Heron

Hawk Landing

Pink Dolphin

Geese

How Long Has It Been Since You've Seen George Lucas in Love?

Reposted for Mom and anyone else who loves a clever homage melding Star Wars and Shakespeare in Love.

Well, pardner, that's too long.

Update: darn it, the video's been yanked. HOWEVER, the Tim Burton piece below this hasn't been. Apologies all 'round and here's hoping that you enjoy the Tim Burton/Vincent Price collaboration.



I had completely forgotten this until Rose brought home 16 American Short Films.

Hilarious!

It also contains a feature by Tim Burton, Vincent, narrated by ... you guessed it ... Vincent Price.

Weekend Joke

Found at Coffee Klatch.

Top 25 Signs You’re Part of the 00’s
(that’s pronounced “aughts”)

1. You just tried to enter your password on the microwave.
   
   
2. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three.
   
   
3. You call your son’s beeper to let him know it’s time to eat. He emails you back from his bedroom, “What’s for dinner?”
   
   
4. Your daughter sells Girl Scout Cookies via her web site.
   
   
5. You chat several times a day with a stranger from South Africa, but you haven’t spoken with your next door neighbor yet this year.
   
   
6. You check the ingredients on a can of chicken noodle soup to see if it contains Echinacea.
   
   
7. You check your blow-dryer to see if it’s Y2K compliant.
   
   
8. Your grandmother clogs up your e-mail inbox asking you to send her a JPEG file of your newborn so she can create a screen saver.
   
   
9. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home.
   
   
10. Every commercial on television has a web-site address at the bottom of the screen.
    
    
11. You buy a computer and a week later it is out of date and now sells for half the price you paid.
    
    
12. The concept of using real money, instead of credit or debit, to make a purchase is foreign to you.
    
    
13. Cleaning up the dining room means getting the fast food bags out of the back seat of your car.
    
    
14. Your reason for not staying in touch with family is that they do not have e-mail addresses.
    
    
15. You consider second-day air delivery painfully slow.
    
    
16. Your dining room table is now your flat filing cabinet.
    
    
17. Your idea of being organized is multiple-colored Post-it notes.
    
    
18. You hear most of your jokes via e-mail instead of in person.
    
    
19. You get an extra phone line so you can get phone calls.
    
    
20. You turn off your Modem and get this awful feeling, as if you just as if you had pulled the plug on a loved one.
    
    
21. You get up in morning and go online before getting your coffee.
    
    
22. You wake up at 2am to go to the bathroom and check your E-mail on your way back to bed.
    
    
23. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. :)
    
    
24. You’re reading this.
    
    
25. Even worse; you’re going to forward it to someone else.

Upcoming Changes to the Mass -- Get 'Em While They're Hot!

Or ... as the USCCB puts it ... ahem ...

This area includes information and resources for the assembly with implementation and practice of the new Roman Missal.

It's got a print button and a "share" button which says that you can post it to your blog, but the Blogger part can't find my blog. Perhaps they were thinking of people who had just the one blog?

So much for that.

Anyway, scoot over there to see a nice chart with old and new.

Via the indispensable New Advent.

Speaking of Books on My "To Read" List ...

... check out Ana Markovic.

Emerging from an alcohol-poisoned sleep that should have left her dead on the streets of Toronto, Ana Markovic slowly began to remember the dream that came to her while she was unconscious. Ana hadn't always been homeless. Once, she had a home and a family. And then there was war and all that she knew burnt to the ground. Ana came to Canada with her husband as a refugee of the former Yugoslavia and fell into a depression that led her into a self-destructive, alcoholic spiral. Eventually, she abandoned her husband and young child to live on the streets in a perpetual state of self-hate. But God was not about to let Ana fall to eternal perdition without a fight. While she lay passed out, St. Michael the Archangel, appeared before Ana to offer her a final chance to redeem her soul and accept her worth in the eyes of God. This story lays bare the struggle for salvation as it travels through the shattered life of one lost soul and beyond to the Garden of Eden, to the life of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the redemption God's love offers every human being.

Author David Murdoch was born in Toronto, Canada and graduated from Queen's University in Kingston. David converted to Catholicism after having been raised as a Protestant. Ana Markovic was written as a means of sharing the gifts God has given him, and doing something with God's grace

Sounds painful but powerful, right? I'm really looking forward to this one ... which is en route, or will be soon.

Perry Como and Abraham Lincoln: you just can't make this stuff up

Tom was looking on Wikipedia at Perry Como's entry after I'd asked him about a crossword clue to one of his songs. He came across this reference which left us both laughing and incredulous.

In downtown Gettysburg, there are two statues in front of the house where Lincoln stayed the night before he gave the Gettysburg Address. One is of Lincoln with his left arm raised, using his stove-pipe hat to point to the window of the room in which he stayed. His right hand is on the arm of a "tourist", as if he's showing the tourist the room. The tourist depicted is Perry Como, in his famous cardigan sweater.

Wikipedia

It sure looks like Perry Como ... you can see the photo at Roadside America.

Wow, what a great smile!

Reposting this for Mom and, of course, anyone else who'd like to see it again!

A fantastic little film about validation ... and smiles. It doesn't hurt that it has my favorite cast member from Bones either.

Enjoy (thanks to The Anchoress ... hey, do you know how wonderful she is?)

Lost Gods Book Review

Kweku Anansi is just another down-on-his luck con man who preys on the more fortunate during the day and goes home to his loving wife at night. That seems rather a comedown for the African trickster god, which is his real identity. ...

My review is up over at SFFaudio as is the link to Podiobooks where you can get the book free.