1. President Obama visits China.
2. China tells America to go to hell.
3. Obama comes home, tells America to start packing.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Back to School--for a degree in Theology
A few people have asked me how it's possible that at the age of fifty, I could become active in religion, especially in Catholicism?
It's not an easy question to answer; and while my story isn't particularly complex, it is long.
So to simplify it somewhat, let me answer that it is a combination of events, big and small, that have left me with no doubt.
All my life I have been on a path to some sort of faith--starting with the rather wishy-washiness of Methodism, the emptiness of various philosophies (which I'll admit I didn't study closely because none that I encountered ever held up in even the dimmest light of my observed reality), and the dry ice of atheism.
For me, there was always something missing--something that at the core could speak to both my sense of the immediate and the eternal--without treating me like an idiot (for lack of a better term).
(As an aside, a former co-worker was a fan of a particular TV preacher, and in an attempt to convert me she gave me transcripts of several of his sermons. I read them carefully, and in all honesty, I couldn't figure out what the hell he was talking about. He seemed to take some scriptural passage and wrap some vague message around it--in a way that was neither informative, inspirational, or to my mind, even remotely related to the meaning of the text, like thinking the story of the Prodigal Son was a divine endorsement of eating veal.)
When I married a Catholic girl, it opened a door to a real majesty of faith. Not just in the grandeur of Catholic churches or the solemnity of the Mass, but in the greatest kind of majesty, the sort that shines from certain individuals. In this case, the best example was my mother-in-law, a woman who had endured unspeakable horrors (made a slave-laborer by the Nazis, later married and had 12 children, and survived traumas the likes of which would crush most other people I know). Her faith never wavered despite all that happened to her. It caused me to wonder what sort of religion could instill such courage and loyalty.
Over the years of my marriage (12 and counting), I learned a little more about Catholicism, but nothing really made a serious impression on me until I read a book by Pope Benedict XVI. I had read a couple of books by JPII, and they convinced me of his piety and greatness as a man, but I never saw how that could reach me personally.
But reading "God and the World" changed my life. When I first picked it up, I expected a rather dour glimpse of a stern, dogmatic German, about as lively and engaging as a hike through Death Valley. However...I could not have been more wrong. From the very first, I was riveted by the man's intellect, candor, wisdom, insights, and above all, his abiding faith.
For the first time, I saw how a person could be both devout and a lively intellectual. (Well-educated Catholics will laugh at my naivete, but I had been raised with the typical secular view of Catholicism as repressive, medieval, and anti-intellectual.) To say that this piqued my curiosity is a vast understatement; I felt as though I had tripped over the entrance to a spiritual treasure trove.
Since reading "God and the World" in November of 2008, I have probably read fifty or sixty books on Catholicism, each one of them filling in piece of a huge, complex jigsaw puzzle. I have started attending Mass weekly, joined the Knights of Columbus, am in process of becoming confirmed, and am starting classes towards a degree in Catholic Theology.
I'm not sure where this will lead--but I am trusting to God that it will work out. (And many, many thanks to my wife for her support in this endeavor. It's not easy to have your spouse become a "religious nut" to the point of pursuing Theology as a vocation.)
I'll keep you posted.
It's not an easy question to answer; and while my story isn't particularly complex, it is long.
So to simplify it somewhat, let me answer that it is a combination of events, big and small, that have left me with no doubt.
All my life I have been on a path to some sort of faith--starting with the rather wishy-washiness of Methodism, the emptiness of various philosophies (which I'll admit I didn't study closely because none that I encountered ever held up in even the dimmest light of my observed reality), and the dry ice of atheism.
For me, there was always something missing--something that at the core could speak to both my sense of the immediate and the eternal--without treating me like an idiot (for lack of a better term).
(As an aside, a former co-worker was a fan of a particular TV preacher, and in an attempt to convert me she gave me transcripts of several of his sermons. I read them carefully, and in all honesty, I couldn't figure out what the hell he was talking about. He seemed to take some scriptural passage and wrap some vague message around it--in a way that was neither informative, inspirational, or to my mind, even remotely related to the meaning of the text, like thinking the story of the Prodigal Son was a divine endorsement of eating veal.)
When I married a Catholic girl, it opened a door to a real majesty of faith. Not just in the grandeur of Catholic churches or the solemnity of the Mass, but in the greatest kind of majesty, the sort that shines from certain individuals. In this case, the best example was my mother-in-law, a woman who had endured unspeakable horrors (made a slave-laborer by the Nazis, later married and had 12 children, and survived traumas the likes of which would crush most other people I know). Her faith never wavered despite all that happened to her. It caused me to wonder what sort of religion could instill such courage and loyalty.
Over the years of my marriage (12 and counting), I learned a little more about Catholicism, but nothing really made a serious impression on me until I read a book by Pope Benedict XVI. I had read a couple of books by JPII, and they convinced me of his piety and greatness as a man, but I never saw how that could reach me personally.
But reading "God and the World" changed my life. When I first picked it up, I expected a rather dour glimpse of a stern, dogmatic German, about as lively and engaging as a hike through Death Valley. However...I could not have been more wrong. From the very first, I was riveted by the man's intellect, candor, wisdom, insights, and above all, his abiding faith.
For the first time, I saw how a person could be both devout and a lively intellectual. (Well-educated Catholics will laugh at my naivete, but I had been raised with the typical secular view of Catholicism as repressive, medieval, and anti-intellectual.) To say that this piqued my curiosity is a vast understatement; I felt as though I had tripped over the entrance to a spiritual treasure trove.
Since reading "God and the World" in November of 2008, I have probably read fifty or sixty books on Catholicism, each one of them filling in piece of a huge, complex jigsaw puzzle. I have started attending Mass weekly, joined the Knights of Columbus, am in process of becoming confirmed, and am starting classes towards a degree in Catholic Theology.
I'm not sure where this will lead--but I am trusting to God that it will work out. (And many, many thanks to my wife for her support in this endeavor. It's not easy to have your spouse become a "religious nut" to the point of pursuing Theology as a vocation.)
I'll keep you posted.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Happy Birthday in Abilene...
So, let me tell you about my whirlwind weekend in Fun Capital of the World, Abilene!
Friday was kind of a downer, with the funeral Mass and all--really rainy and miserable, so we spent a pretty quiet day.
Saturday, we were up at 4:30 (yes, AM) to get on the road. A leisurely drive out west, with our usual stop in Eastland for breakfast (nothing good, just McDonald's) and to stretch our legs by walking around their Walmart.
Outside, they had a bake sale, and I bought everything. Okay, not everything, just a couple of brownies, some banana bread, and some peanut butter cookies. Hey--I wasn't just being a pig, it was for a good cause!
We reached the outskirts of Abilene a little after 9:00; we killed some time cruising around town, where I hit a couple of pawn shops (found some classic DVDs for $2 each, really lit up my cheapskate nature), then went to McKay's, a great local bakery. Irene asked me if I wanted a birthday cake...I looked at her like she was nuts. Me, *not* want a birthday cake? Was she kidding?
Yes, she was, because she'd had them bake me a nice red velvet cake...it was waiting for us. That sneaky little devil! I was completely surprised. (She's so good to me; there's no joy in the world like a happy marriage.)
Being satisfied with herself for having successfully sandbagged me, we killed some more time having lunch at a local Chinese place (Szechuan) until we could check into our hotel...where we settled in and took a nap. (Really exciting, yes?)
We decided to skip dinner, since I'd nibbled on bake-sale stuff and Irene was still stuffed with whatever she'd had for lunch, so we got organized in time to get to the Civic Center for the 8:00 performance--Copland's Appalachian Spring suite and Beethoven's Ninth.
The place was nearly sold out, which is quite surprising--we've been to several Abilene Philharmonic concerts, and they're usually well-attended but nothing close to sellouts. (Beethoven brings 'em in, I guess--unless there's a big contingent of Copland fans in Abilene.)
One thing about the Abilene Philharmonic--they sing the National Anthem at the start of every concert, and the audience really belts it out. It's incredible, and beautiful, and more venues should do it. I remember as a kid going to Cubs games in Chicago, at a time when people would sing the anthem...for years afterwards, I thought that the last two words of the Star-Spangled Banner were "Play ball!"
(...Okay, dumb joke.)
The performance was wonderful, except for the audience, which coughed so much throughout that the Copland sounded more like a Concerto for Tuberculosis Ward and Orchestra. It was distracting, to be sure. (Many years ago I attended a TV taping of a Chicago Symphony concert, and before the performance they threatened us within an inch of our lives to be quiet--or leave before the start. I wish they'd do that at every concert.)
Anyway, the Beethoven was wonderful--the only mitigating factor being the relatively small size of the orchestra. During the finale, they were almost overwhelmed by the *three* combined choruses. Still, a great evening; I was left with a lump in my throat at the conclusion. Just astounding that someone stone deaf could compose anything so celestial. (If that isn't proof of a higher power, what would be?)
Sunday, we had a relaxing morning and checked out, stopped for an early lunch at an excellent local burger place (Rick & Carolyn's), then had a quiet drive home. Later, my neighbor brought over her 9-year-old grandson Robert for cake and presents (I was very touched; Robert conspired with Irene on a gift for me--I don't know why that kid likes me so much, but he's definitely the current president of my fan club.)
All in all, one of my best birthdays. Ever since my 39th, which I spent in the Emergency Room with a knee injury that put me in wheelchair for four months, any birthday I walk away from is a good one!
That's probably more than you wanted to know...but it was a good weekend. Too bad I was too busy to take any pictures!
Friday was kind of a downer, with the funeral Mass and all--really rainy and miserable, so we spent a pretty quiet day.
Saturday, we were up at 4:30 (yes, AM) to get on the road. A leisurely drive out west, with our usual stop in Eastland for breakfast (nothing good, just McDonald's) and to stretch our legs by walking around their Walmart.
Outside, they had a bake sale, and I bought everything. Okay, not everything, just a couple of brownies, some banana bread, and some peanut butter cookies. Hey--I wasn't just being a pig, it was for a good cause!
We reached the outskirts of Abilene a little after 9:00; we killed some time cruising around town, where I hit a couple of pawn shops (found some classic DVDs for $2 each, really lit up my cheapskate nature), then went to McKay's, a great local bakery. Irene asked me if I wanted a birthday cake...I looked at her like she was nuts. Me, *not* want a birthday cake? Was she kidding?
Yes, she was, because she'd had them bake me a nice red velvet cake...it was waiting for us. That sneaky little devil! I was completely surprised. (She's so good to me; there's no joy in the world like a happy marriage.)
Being satisfied with herself for having successfully sandbagged me, we killed some more time having lunch at a local Chinese place (Szechuan) until we could check into our hotel...where we settled in and took a nap. (Really exciting, yes?)
We decided to skip dinner, since I'd nibbled on bake-sale stuff and Irene was still stuffed with whatever she'd had for lunch, so we got organized in time to get to the Civic Center for the 8:00 performance--Copland's Appalachian Spring suite and Beethoven's Ninth.
The place was nearly sold out, which is quite surprising--we've been to several Abilene Philharmonic concerts, and they're usually well-attended but nothing close to sellouts. (Beethoven brings 'em in, I guess--unless there's a big contingent of Copland fans in Abilene.)
One thing about the Abilene Philharmonic--they sing the National Anthem at the start of every concert, and the audience really belts it out. It's incredible, and beautiful, and more venues should do it. I remember as a kid going to Cubs games in Chicago, at a time when people would sing the anthem...for years afterwards, I thought that the last two words of the Star-Spangled Banner were "Play ball!"
(...Okay, dumb joke.)
The performance was wonderful, except for the audience, which coughed so much throughout that the Copland sounded more like a Concerto for Tuberculosis Ward and Orchestra. It was distracting, to be sure. (Many years ago I attended a TV taping of a Chicago Symphony concert, and before the performance they threatened us within an inch of our lives to be quiet--or leave before the start. I wish they'd do that at every concert.)
Anyway, the Beethoven was wonderful--the only mitigating factor being the relatively small size of the orchestra. During the finale, they were almost overwhelmed by the *three* combined choruses. Still, a great evening; I was left with a lump in my throat at the conclusion. Just astounding that someone stone deaf could compose anything so celestial. (If that isn't proof of a higher power, what would be?)
Sunday, we had a relaxing morning and checked out, stopped for an early lunch at an excellent local burger place (Rick & Carolyn's), then had a quiet drive home. Later, my neighbor brought over her 9-year-old grandson Robert for cake and presents (I was very touched; Robert conspired with Irene on a gift for me--I don't know why that kid likes me so much, but he's definitely the current president of my fan club.)
All in all, one of my best birthdays. Ever since my 39th, which I spent in the Emergency Room with a knee injury that put me in wheelchair for four months, any birthday I walk away from is a good one!
That's probably more than you wanted to know...but it was a good weekend. Too bad I was too busy to take any pictures!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Any day now...
Our Obama, who art in Washington, Deficits be thy name.
Thy socialism come, thy will be done, On Wall Street as it is in Congress.
Give us this day our daily food stamps, and forgive us our income, as we fail to forgive those who actually create jobs.
And lead us not into bankruptcy, but deliver us from free markets.
For thine is the Oval Office, and the teleprompter, and fawning media forever and ever.
Amen.
Thy socialism come, thy will be done, On Wall Street as it is in Congress.
Give us this day our daily food stamps, and forgive us our income, as we fail to forgive those who actually create jobs.
And lead us not into bankruptcy, but deliver us from free markets.
For thine is the Oval Office, and the teleprompter, and fawning media forever and ever.
Amen.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Obama snacks...no wonder they don't sell well
I saw this news story today:
"A gimmicky snack bearing a caricature of US President Barack Obama making a peace sign has gone on sale in Indonesia, but worried consumer activists are already calling for it to be banned.
The "Obama" snack packet shows a grinning Obama making a peace sign with his right hand and spinning the globe like a basketball on the fingers of his left hand."
http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=CNG.e51d3128469e20a697ca763ff37e9031.21&show_article=1
No wonder Indonesians want them banned--they're probably too much like their namesake:
Great packaging, but nothing inside except a bill for $20,000,000,000,000 that's due in ten years.
Scott
"A gimmicky snack bearing a caricature of US President Barack Obama making a peace sign has gone on sale in Indonesia, but worried consumer activists are already calling for it to be banned.
The "Obama" snack packet shows a grinning Obama making a peace sign with his right hand and spinning the globe like a basketball on the fingers of his left hand."
http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=CNG.e51d3128469e20a697ca763ff37e9031.21&show_article=1
No wonder Indonesians want them banned--they're probably too much like their namesake:
Great packaging, but nothing inside except a bill for $20,000,000,000,000 that's due in ten years.
Scott
Friday, December 5, 2008
Islamic Terror in Mumbai
Ever since Vietnam, we've propagandized ourselves with the idea that nothing is worse than war, and therefore it is to be avoided at all costs.
The effectiveness of this propaganda is reflected in how unwilling countries are to face something that is really so much worse than war, and is getting worse (and more widespread) every day.
Islamic terrorism transcends borders and nationalities; it is a broad, relentless attack on civilization itself, and cannot be negotiated away, or bought off, or waited out.
How many more innocents are going to die before we wake up?
The effectiveness of this propaganda is reflected in how unwilling countries are to face something that is really so much worse than war, and is getting worse (and more widespread) every day.
Islamic terrorism transcends borders and nationalities; it is a broad, relentless attack on civilization itself, and cannot be negotiated away, or bought off, or waited out.
How many more innocents are going to die before we wake up?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Should we bail out big auto?
Should we bail out big auto?
Nope.
Sooner or later, everyone who’s made a bad decision has to take his lumps. Automakers have spent decades making bad decisions, and they’re going to have to face it.
Yeah, it’s tough to think about all those high-paying jobs being lost. But if they’re not value-added activities, they need to end.
This “bailout” is really corporate welfare, in which the rest of us get to subsidize the wages of automakers because their own efforts can’t justify their pay. Terrible idea.
I live in a city that twenty years ago went through a local depression; energy, transportation, and defense jobs went away simultaneously. It was painful - extremely so - but not ruinous. The economy diversified, some of those cyclical jobs returned, and things are better now.
So it’s far better to pay the piper and get over it than to throw good money after bad trying to perpetuate an unsustainable economic model.
Scott
Nope.
Sooner or later, everyone who’s made a bad decision has to take his lumps. Automakers have spent decades making bad decisions, and they’re going to have to face it.
Yeah, it’s tough to think about all those high-paying jobs being lost. But if they’re not value-added activities, they need to end.
This “bailout” is really corporate welfare, in which the rest of us get to subsidize the wages of automakers because their own efforts can’t justify their pay. Terrible idea.
I live in a city that twenty years ago went through a local depression; energy, transportation, and defense jobs went away simultaneously. It was painful - extremely so - but not ruinous. The economy diversified, some of those cyclical jobs returned, and things are better now.
So it’s far better to pay the piper and get over it than to throw good money after bad trying to perpetuate an unsustainable economic model.
Scott
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