Tone-Deafness, and Whiplash

In posting to Digg an essay from the Guardian on the pope's bizarre statement regarding AIDS-HIV and condoms (the title of this report--"Pope claims condoms could make African Aids crisis worse," also in the Guardian--pretty much sums up the bizarre part), I made the following comment:

I am a Catholic who is developing whiplash by continuously shaking his head over all of the amazingly tone-deaf statements coming from this pope. I agree that condoms are not "the" answer to AIDS in Africa, if indeed there is any single answer. But to claim, as Benedict has, that distributing condoms somehow makes the problem worse is completely irresponsible!

You do have to wonder what the man is about. Keeping on the whiplash theme for a moment, I find myself constantly jerking between my initial impression of him (he's astoundingly tone-deaf, and always genuinely surprised when his comments turn out to create a hubbub) and my suspicious, cynical, and conspiracy-minded natural state (he's craftily steering the church on a rightward course, content to alienate its moderate and liberal wings in favor of a more fervent, more pliable church full of "true believers").

I suppose both could be true.

I agree with the assessment made this morning in a New York Times editorial:

Pope Benedict XVI has every right to express his opposition to the use of condoms on moral grounds, in accordance with the official stance of the Roman Catholic Church. But he deserves no credence when he distorts scientific findings about the value of condoms in slowing the spread of the AIDS virus.

And this:

But the second half of his statement is grievously wrong. There is no evidence that condom use is aggravating the epidemic and considerable evidence that condoms, though no panacea, can be helpful in many circumstances.

To be running around bereft of any evidence to back one's claim that condoms contribute to the AIDS epidemic in Africa is right up there with such assertions as you can unlock your car using your cell-phone or you should never return your hotel key-card to the desk because it's encoded with all of your credit-card information. That is, it's irresponsible balderdash.

It doesn't matter if it's the Bishop of Rome or your Aunt Matilda: Both are at best ignorant and careless, at worst malicious.

You can forgive it more easily in Aunt Matilda, of course, for I suspect the world does not listen to every bit of blather that escapes her lips. The pope, however, should know better, and he should be more careful. You know--all that think-before-you-speak stuff.

Unless he is thinking, and carefully dropping these little bombs as he goes on his way toward some calculated end.

And speaking of thinking: Where's the "news" media in all of this? Sure, following the pope's comment, everyone in the blogosphere hopped right on it. And today's news seems to have its minimum requirement of essays and editorials. But where were the media yesterday to challenge the pop to back up his outrageous claim with something approximating evidence? They appear to have been dozing, as is their custom.

The pope is making it more and more difficult for me to continue to identify with his church. (The main deal there is that I think of it as my church, and he's the one lousing it up.) Which may be his plan. And those in the "news" media are making it more and more difficult for me to continue to trust and respect them. Which I'm pretty sure isn't their plan.

A Lesson for St. Patrick's Day

This is a picture of a shamrock:

Legend has it that St. Patrick employed the shamrock as a visual aid to teach the non-Christian Irish people about the concept of the Holy Trinity, the Three-in-One. Apocryphal, probably, but not unlikely and a good story anyway.

This is a picture of a four-leaf clover:
You can distinguish the latter from the former by the fact that the latter has, well, four leaves. The former has but three. I say you can distinguish between them, since it appears that advertisers cannot. Every year at this time I observe a distressing number of ads promising St. Patrick's Day savings or specials, which, to make that all-important link to the feast day, stick in clip art of...a four-leaf clover.

I don't think the saint employed a four-leave clover to instruct the Irish pagans about anything. Yet there it is, over and over, in print, television, and internet ads.

To be fair, the ads oftentimes tout the "luck o' the Irish" in their blather, which tends to mitigate my critique somewhat, since the four-leaf clover is considered "lucky." I'm not sure why the Irish are considered to be "lucky": It seems that much of the island's history consists of being invaded by others and oppressed in their own homeland, but whatever.

I can claim claim with certainty to no more than 25% Irishness--Grandpa Reynolds was proud of his Irish heritage, but in tracing antecedents back to about 1500, when the trail dead-ends, I end up in England, but Grandma Reynolds was the result of the joining of the McGrail and the Moore families, both of which hailed from the Old Sod. So my dad could be justifiable proud of being Irish, at least 50%. He would have been front and center at yesterday's St. Patrick's Day Parade in Sioux Falls, but alas. Like me, though, he would have been unhappy that someone--the organizers, the city, whoever--decided to relocate the parade to the nearest Saturday, after 20+ years of always being on March 17 unless the seventeenth was a Sunday. In the past, that tradition worked to the parade's favor: One year my wife and I and my folks ended up having lunch with a representative of the Irish government, based in Chicago, who could attend our parade only because it wasn't on a Saturday!

But so it goes.

It's annoying that the day has become an excuse for drunkenness, and annoying that various retailers and merchandizers play up on that. As someone of Irish heritage, I find placards such as "Irish Today, Hung Over Tomorrow" to be more than offensive. Or the T-shirt that reads, "I Still Can't Remember Last St. Patrick's Day." Charming. I have it on good authority that, in Ireland of all places, people who observe the day tend to do so by going to Mass, perhaps followed by a special dinner including a toast to the saint. What a concept! I'm told too that American-style parades are starting to pop up in some Irish cities, but that this is a recent development.

Me, I plan to secure a six-pack of Guinness between now and Tuesday, and come Tuesday evening will uncap one with a nod to my Irish ancestors. And maybe even St. Patrick himself...even though he wasn't Irish!

How to Jump to a Conclusion

A great deal of buzz today about results from a new American Religious Identification Survey (ARIS). The results of the poll are interesting, but not too much of a surprise to those of us in the trade. In a nutshell:

Americans are still predominantly Christian, but they are becoming both less Christian and less religious. Three out of four Americans call themselves Christian, down from about nine out of ten in 1990

"Born-again" or "evangelical" Christianity is on the upswing; members of "mainline" denominations such as Episcopal or Lutheran has fallen. One in three Americans consider themselves evangelical

The percentage of Catholics in the US has remained steady (about one in four) since 1990, while the percentage of other Christians has dropped from 60 to 50 percent

Some 15 percent of Americans say they have no religion, almost double the number from 18 years ago. Americans with no religious preference is now a larger group than all major religious groups except Catholics and Baptists

That last tidbit impresses me because it has generated a certain amount of conclusion-jumping, based on a scan of Google News headlines. Here's this from the Colorado Independent:

Losing their religion: Ranks of nonbelievers on the increase

Um, yes and no. Yes, one may infer from the survey that American are "losing" their religion, if "losing" is the word we want. No, the ranks of "nonbelievers" is not on the rise, at least not according to the data presented in the Colorado Independent's article.

The ranks of people who express no alignment with a religious group is indeed on the uptick.

But to not align oneself with an "organized" religious body is not to be a "nonbeliever." Maybe you are and maybe you're not. Maybe you believe in God in some form or fashion, but aren't too wowed about institutional churches. That hardly makes you a "nonbeliever."

You can read the Colorado Independent article yourself and see that they're sloppily describing "nones" (people who express "none" as their religious affiliation) as "nonbelievers."

A look at the ARIS website itself, however, does reveal this interesting nugget:

Only 1.6 percent of Americans call themselves atheist or agnostic. But based on stated beliefs, 12 percent are atheist (no God) or agnostic (unsure), while 12 percent more are deistic (believe in a higher power but not a personal God). The number of outright atheists has nearly doubled since 2001, from 900 thousand to 1.6 million. Twenty-seven percent of Americans do not expect a religious funeral at their death.

(So, indeed, the number of "nonbelievers" is on the rise...it's just too bad that the Colorado Independent jumped at its conclusion from the wrong springboard.)

A side excursion: Based on the way certain folks rail against "attacks" on Christianity, is it not curious to note that the number of out-and-out atheists in the country is way, way smaller than the number of Christians? Weird, huh? Almost like there are no "attackers" at all, like the whole thing is a ratings-grabbing figment of some wingnut's imagination.

Personally, I find the survey's results to be less than alarming. As indicated above, they tend only to evince trends that one instinctively sensed already, viz., people are becoming increasingly disenchanted with "organized" religion, if that's not an oxymoron. This is bad news for organized religion, of course, and as someone whose income relies in part on the continued health of one such institution, perhaps I should be alarmed. But big-picture-wise -- God and humankind, the universe and eternity, the meaning of things -- well, none of the ARIS findings seem to send up flares. People aren't abandoning God; God isn't abandoning people. Church folk will insist that you can't have God without "church," but I don't think they're making the sale anymore. (Anyhow, really: Would a clergyman or -woman seriously tell you that you don't need church?)

If anything, the survey tends to incline me toward thinking that people are, on a spiritual level, still engaged. Just not institutionally.

Another side excursion: Some years ago, in my earshot, a member of the clergy expressed impatience with people who say they are "spiritual" but not "religious." His comment: "I say to them, 'So it's all about you, is it?'"

At the time I thought that a strange rejoinder. How does one get from "I'm not wild about the institution" to "So it's all about you"?

I'm still not sure about that, but upon reflection I have decided that that which was meant as a put-down actually carries some pretty significant weight.

Religion is, after all, all about me!

I mean, who else? God, whatever form he may take, certainly has no need of religion. So it's not for him. It seems unlikely that angels, cherubim, seraphim, and the rest of the heavenly host would have need of any "organized" religion, given their mailing address. So it's not for them. My cats seem completely uninterested in the whole topic, so I conclude religion isn't for them, either.

That would seem to leave...me. Us--you and me. That's who religion is for.

And at every step, it seems more and more obviously that's it's all about me:

My decision to subscribe to a religion, any religion, in the first place

My decision to align myself with a particular church entity--Catholic or Protestant, Episcopal or Presbyterian, mega-church or storefront nondenominational gathering

My decision to attend services at a particular parish or congregation

My decision to accept or reject that which the religion preaches

And so on. It is all about me, and it's all about you, and that guy over there...for who else would it be about?

Seems to me that's kinda how it's supposed to be.

Where Are My Friends Going?

I'm growing increasingly worried about my Facebook friends.

They seem to be disappearing.

This happens all the time now: The little indicator in the corner of my screen says I have, say, eight "online friends." Sounds good. I click on it and the little window pops up ostensibly to display my eight "online friends" and their chat status. But wait! The little window pops up to a couple of inches in height, then immediately shrinks down to an inch or so, and both it and the indicator now aver that I have, say, five "online friends."

What has happened to those three missing "online friends"??

Is anybody looking for them? Can I be the only one who's noticed their disappearance?

Or is someone systematically "disappearing" anyone who notices the disappearances of all these "online friends"?

In which case it's entirely possible that I am in grave dange--

The Face of the GOP

Nuff said?

"Mock" Anger?

This appeared yesterday on Andrew Sullivan's The Daily Dish:


It's a little hard to tell from the photo, but it's a representation of President Barack Obama as a clasically rendered saint, on a ten-inch tall votive candle. This one was spotted in the San Francisco store Just For Fun.

Naturally, the candle has some people upset. According to Sullivan, it has "angered members of the St. Philip the Apostle Church who see the candle as mocking Jesus."

I'm sure that once word spreads, many more people will be angered, too.

I'm thinking of being angered myself, just because I realize I haven't been angered by anything inconsequential in a great many days.

However, reason must prevail. As I said to my pal Jerry, who brought the item to my attention in the first place, how does this mock Jesus? As a cradle Catholic, I see immediately that it draws from the traditional, even classic portrayal of saints as depicted on countless prayer cards, in countless books, on countless walls and windows in countless older churches...but saints, mind, not Jesus. I have never seen Jesus depicted in such garb; it's usually white, or, if depicting the resurrected Jesus, white with some other "pure" color--gold, a pale blue, a kind of salmon color, even purple. Never brown or black, whichever it is on the candle jar.

Nor is Jesus, in my experience, depicted holding a crucifix. The closest to that that I can think of are representations of Jesus holding the orb, representing the world, atop which is often a small cross. Although of course in the Stations of the Cross he is shown carrying the cross.

You might, if you felt the need to feel outrage, say that the candle mocks...what? Saints? Not all of them, surely, nor any particular one. If anything, it seems to mock a style of art.

Hardly much to get worked up about, yes?

So what is it about the good parishioners of St. Philip the Apostle Church? Does their church just happen to be nearby? Has it been awhile since the last dust-up and this is the best they can come up with on short notice?

Or Perhaps they have just never taken to heart the ancient wisdom: Choose your battles.

Quotation Marks

Again, most if not all (all, I think) of these quotations were culled from the always-informative A Word a Day newsletter:

I protect my right to be a Catholic by preserving your right to believe as a Jew, a Protestant, or non-believer, or as anything else you choose. We know that the price of seeking to force our beliefs on others is that they might some day force theirs on us. -Mario Cuomo, 52nd Governor of New York (b. 1932)

The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error. -John Stuart Mill, philosopher and economist (1806-1873)

There is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to other animals as well as humans, it is all a sham. -Anna Sewell, writer (1820-1878)

Politeness is the art of choosing among your thoughts. -Madame de Stael, writer (1766-1817)

When the flag is unfurled, all reason is in the trumpet. -Ukrainian proverb

The man who is always waving the flag usually waives what it stands for. -Laurence J. Peter, educator and author (1919-1990)

Conscience is the still, small voice which tells a candidate that what he is doing is likely to lose him votes. -Anonymous

When you battle with your conscience and lose, you win. -Henny Youngman, comedian and violinist (1906-1998)

The lame man who keeps the right road outstrips the runner who takes a wrong one. The more active and swift the latter is, the further he will go astray. -Francis Bacon, essayist, philosopher, and statesman (1561-1626)

Wealth has never yet sacrificed itself on the altar of patriotism. -Bob LaFollette, congressman, senator, governor (1855-1925)

Being rich is having money; being wealthy is having time. -Stephen Swid, executive (b. 1941)

This country will not be a permanently good place for any of us to live in unless we make it a reasonably good place for all of us to live in. -Theodore Roosevelt, 26th US President (1858-1919)

Democracy, to me, is liberty plus economic security. -Maury Maverick, attorney and congressman (1895-1954)

The only gift is giving to the poor; / All else is exchange. -Thiruvalluvar, poet (c. 30 BCE)

I wasn't disturbing the peace, I was disturbing the war. -Ammon Hennacy, activist (1893-1970)

If you want to make peace, you don't talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies. -Moshe Dayan, military leader and politician (1915-1981)

A coward is a hero with a wife, kids, and a mortgage. -Marvin Kitman, author and media critic (b. 1929)

Whenever two people meet, there are really six people present. There is each man as he sees himself, each man as the other person sees him, and each man as he really is. -William James, psychologist and philosopher (1842-1910)

The doctrine of the material efficacy of prayer reduces the Creator to a cosmic bellhop of a not very bright or reliable kind. -Herbert J. Muller, educator, historian, and author (1905-1980)

I don't know if God exists, but it would be better for His reputation if he didn't. -Jules Renard, writer (1864-1910)

Mixed Message?

I have had many occasions to wonder about this:

If we are in fact as concerned about childhood obesity and inactivity as we claim to be, why then is exercise still handed out as punishment?

They did that sort of thing when I was in school, back when we still did our homework on the back of the coal shovel next to the fireplace, but nobody had heard of childhood obesity back then so nobody cared. However, when my kid comes home now--in the supposedly enlightened twenty-first century--and recounts the insane number of push-ups or laps that were assigned for some transgression (usually pretty dubious, at that), I have to shake my head.

What sort of message does it send to use exercise as punishment, and then wring our hands because our kids don't like to exercise?

I think the message is that we're screwed up.

Or, Put Another Way, Completely Useless

And, Honestly, That's Not How You Spell "Honestly"

Today's GeekMail from my pals at Geeks.com. They sell great stuff, but aren't such great proofreaders...

Almost Like a Poem

This appeared this morning in one of the office inboxes that I tend. The subject line in the queue was

Message Alert - You Have 1 Important Unread Messsage

which seemed pretty unlikely. The sender, hereaway@calmontblick.de, was of course unknown to me--largely, I suspect, because he or she is nonexistent--but I was in the right sort of mood so I gave it a click. Here's the result:

From: "Geimer Nosal"
To: +++++++++++++++++
Subject: Message Alert - You Have 1 Important Unread Messsage
Date: Unknown date
Index | Reply | Reply all | Forward | Print

How To Impress Your Girlfriennd
Click HERE

The validity of experience, but the very existence & inside,
lay it in the dish with vinegar, wine, she really meant.
she did not know that but two to go, she said with a pout.
therefore in order knew that billy could turn out good storieshe.

Wow. That's almost like poetry, isn't it? No idea what it means, but half the time I feel that way about poetry, too, so no matter.

No, I didn't click on the link, nor the two attachments that it came with. I wasn't that bored!

I've Heard it Said

Some more of the quotations I collect like bubble-gum cards. (Do bubble-gum cards even come with bubble-gum any more?) Most if not all are from the always-excellent A Word a Day.

Of all plagues with which mankind is cursed, ecclesiastic tyranny's the worst. -Daniel Defoe, novelist and journalist (1659?-1731)

He shall mark our goings, question whence we came,
Set his guards about us, as in Freedom's name.
He shall peep and mutter, and night shall bring
Watchers 'neath our window, lest we mock the King.
-Rudyard Kipling, author, Nobel laureate (1865-1936)

Patriotism is a kind of religion; it is the egg from which wars are hatched. -Guy de Maupassant, short story writer and novelist (1850-1893)

Journalists do not believe the lies of politicians, but they do repeat them -- which is even worse! -Michel Colucci, comedian and actor (1944-1986)

Men build too many walls and not enough bridges. -Isaac Newton, philosopher and mathematician (1642-1727)

The fundamental delusion of humanity is to suppose that I am here and you are out there. -Yasutani Roshi, Zen master (1885-1973)

What we are doing to the forests of the world is but a mirror reflection of what we are doing to ourselves and to one another. -Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi (1869-1948)

Language is an anonymous, collective and unconscious art; the result of the creativity of thousands of generations. -Edward Sapir, anthropologist and linguist (1884-1939)

Journalism is publishing what someone doesn't want us to know, the rest is propaganda. -Horacio Verbitsky, journalist (b. 1942)

I am not only a pacifist but a militant pacifist. I am willing to fight for peace. Nothing will end war unless the people themselves refuse to go to war. -Albert Einstein, physicist, Nobel laureate (1879-1955)

I am a part of all that I have met. -Alfred, Lord Tennyson, poet (1809-1892)

Conscience is a dog that does not stop us from passing but that we cannot prevent from barking. -Nicolas de Chamfort, writer (1741-1794)

There are two things to aim at in life; first to get what you want, and after that to enjoy it. Only the wisest of mankind achieve the second. -Logan Pearsall Smith, essayist (1865-1946)

There are 10^11 stars in the galaxy. That used to be a huge number. But it's only a hundred billion. It's less than the national deficit! We used to call them astronomical numbers. Now we should call them economical numbers. -Richard Feynman, physicist, Nobel laureate (1918-1988)

I don't trust a man who uses the word evil eighteen times in ten minutes. If you're half evil, nothing soothes you more than to think the person you are opposed to is totally evil. -Norman Mailer, author (1923-2007)

If the truth doesn't save us, what does that say about us? -Lois McMaster Bujold, writer (1949- )

True remorse is never just a regret over consequences; it is a regret over motive. -Mignon McLaughlin, journalist and author (1913-1983)

Corporation: n. An ingenious device for obtaining individual profit without individual responsibility. -Ambrose Bierce, author and editor (1842-1914)

Almost all our faults are more pardonable than the methods we resort to to hide them. -Francois de La Rochefoucauld, writer (1613-1680)

Our memories are card indexes consulted and then returned in disorder by authorities whom we do not control. -Cyril Connolly, critic and editor (1903-1974)

One should count each day a separate life. -Lucius Annaeus Seneca, philosopher (BCE 3-65 CE)

What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy? -Ursula K. Le Guin, author (b. 1929)

Recycling at the Washington Post

Here are two screen shots from this morning's Washington Post. (Hours before Tom Daschle threw in the towel.) Note the photos:

---

Well, I suppose those news photos get to be expensive, and if you can reuse them so much the better in a tough economy.

Recession? What Recession?

This at online.wsj.com:

Macy's to Cut 7,000 Jobs

Macy's Inc. said it will cut about 7,000 positions, or 4% of its work force, and slash its dividend, as the retailer looks to lower expenses amid slumping sales.

The largest U.S. department-store chain also announced plans to expand a decentralization strategy that localizes store offerings.

...and so on. But just to show how weird the economy can be, the local Macy's store this past weekend had "we're hiring" placards prominently displayed near the entrances. No help to those 7,000 others, poor devils.

One Year Ago (6)

It is impossible now to recapture, let alone recount, the thoughts and emotions that washed over and through me as I sat on the edge of that old bed with my father's cold hand in mine. Sorrow that he had died alone. Relief that he had died in his own bed, in relatively good health. Sadness that there were so many unsaid things. Joy that we had always been close and had grown even closer in the years since Mom's death. Shock at realizing that, at the most fundamental level, I was now alone. the two people who had always been the constants in my existence now both departed. Despair at thinking that there were so many other things, so many more things I should have done. I should have known. I should have been there.

And yet it is as it is.

And my father was an intensely proud, independent, and private man. If he had been given a choice, this would have been it: In his own home, in his own bed, quietly.

Still. As I would say to my brother when I called him a few minutes later, I wasn't ready for this.

A year later I'm still not.

One Year Ago (5)

Newspaper on the front step. Not a good sign.

I use my key to enter the locked garage, and knock on the back door. I use my key on the backdoor, calling out as I enter the kitchen.

The beep of the answering machine in the back room, my old room. And the obnoxious hiss of Dad's CPAP machine, in my brother's old room. Otherwise silence.

Two more bad signs.

I move back to my parents' room. Shades are drawn and the light is cold and dim. I come upon the best of the worst-case scenarios: Dad in bed, looking for all the world like he is merely sleeping, his Rosary in hand. It was his practice to pray the Rosary at bedtime. One might think that he would suddenly awaken, but of course he does not. He is gone. He is cold.

That, perhaps, is the most striking thing as I take his hand in mine: His hand is cold. My father's hands were always warm.

I sit with him awhile now. There is no longer any hurry.

One Year Ago (4)

And then you start to make the lists. There are, perhaps, a hundred things that could have gone wrong. You sort through them, on the two-mile drive--the best case, the worst case.

Best case: He fell asleep in his chair. He'd been complaining about waking in the wee hours and not being able to return to sleep, then being tired all day: Perhaps he sat down in front of the TV and dozed off, then didn't hear the phone(s) because the TV was too loud. Maybe you'll come in the back door and he'll awake with a start and you'll both have a laugh.

Worst case: He fell down the basement stairs and broke a leg, a hip...a neck. Or he had a stroke and has been unable to get to the phone. The thought of him having lain there injured or incapacitated for hours or longer is intolerable. Noon-hour traffic is heavy and slow.

One Year Ago (3)

The day, as I recall, was gray, steely, cold but not bitingly so. Concerned at Dad's lateness, I pulled out my phone and dialed my dad's house. Answering machine. I called his cell phone. Voice mail. I even called his OnStar number, which he didn't usually activate unless he was planning to be on the road--which seldom happened anymore.

Concern now turned to...what? Not worry, exactly, for I now knew that something was completely and seriously wrong. The question now was only what I would find when I went to the house.

I turned and went down the hill to my office to retrieve my things. I knew I wouldn't be back that day.

One Year Ago (2)

It was at about this point one year ago that I began to become concerned at my dad's lateness. Had we pushed the meeting time back? Sometimes we did, if he wanted to attend Mass. But I didn't recall that we had discussed it during the week.

One Year Ago

It was about this time, one year ago, that I was heading up the hill to the parking lot where my dad would pick me up for the weekly lunch date we had had since my mom's death some four years previous.