The 'I' in Obvious

I love book reviews, and love lefty books reviewed by lefty reviewers even more. High comedy, and capital amusement. Let me share with you…

In a review titled “Putting the ‘I’ in GLBT”, the reviewer introduces the primary author of the book ‘What Becomes You’”, a book about transgendered identity written by a pair of tormented souls:

“Aaron Raz Link was born Sarah, daughter to the now-celebrated University of Nebraska-Lincoln English and women and gender studies professor Hilda Raz. Aaron was a boy born, physically at least, as a girl.”

I’m sure that Sarah’s problems stem directly from mom’s occupation and philosophy:

“Raz Link talks about the arduous path of making his external self match up to the man he’s always been inside.
That path includes not only navigating the dense thicket of psychiatry and surgery — as it turns out, they don’t just let you get a sex reassignment operation — but also Raz Link’s struggles to leave womanhood behind, an act seen as a betrayal by the feminists that populate Raz Link’s life.”

More likely, it’s the feminists that betrayed Sarah, by poisoning her view of womanhood and femininity and driving her into the darkness she currently inhabits. But, for all the poisonous sociology, Sarah exhibits an unusually normal trait:

“And there’s another wrinkle: Not only is [Sarah] a former physical woman who is now physically a man, he’s also a gay man.”

Ok, so she’s attracted to men. Men with issues, but she shows an inclination towards men. You’d expect that from a woman.

Now a quick note to any readers who have any personal stock in the GLBTAN continuum; If you’re offended now, prepare to be appalled.

A quote from the author:

“People said ‘she’; I fought for ‘he.’ I got the word ‘he,’ complete with expectations of violence and invulnerability and testosterone jokes and shaving products advertised as the high point of my existence. So I fought for the word ‘I.’”

Isn’t ‘I’ the focus of all behaviours that separate us from God? “I want this”, “I feel that”, “I am this”, “I will not do that” are all mantras to define ourselves, and we often define ourselves contrary to the role God assigns us.

The focus on ‘I’ by Sarah is a learned trait from her mother, as unconsciously noted by the reviewer:

“Then, Hilda Raz’s part, the reaction of the mother saying goodbye to the daughter she never really had. Her assignment was to focus on herself, bits of her own autobiography and identity in addition to her daughter/son’s change, but the book actually would have been more cohesive had she dwelt less on certain aspects of her own life and focused mainly on Raz Link’s relationship to her and their family.”

Maybe, if Hilda weren’t so practiced at dwelling on the self, she may have enjoyed the daughter that God gave her, instead of twisting that gift into a mockery of femininity.

There’s an ‘I’ in “Faith’, ‘Humility’ and ‘Obedience’, but it’s nowhere near the front.

The End

Yesterday was the capstone of a sad and surreal week. Our organization gathered to celebrate my supervisor's life, and there were fun stories, and some tears, and the overall acknowledgement that we just weren't remotely prepared for this.

Ray’s children and ex-wife (still life-long friends) came from distant Vermont and Arizona to settle his affairs, and celebrated with us Ray’s life and accomplishments. National Public Radio sent a huge spray of flowers with their condolences, as did board members, the local symphony organization, and others in the community we serve. We received many emails, cards, and phone calls from others who knew him.

While being a private man in many respects, Ray shared his loves with many, and by the end of the celebration, we all knew him more completely than he let us in life. He loved trains and railroad history, and that’s one thing that everyone got to experience when getting to know Ray. He also loved to cook, and eat, from a wide cultural palette from Asia, Europe, and the Americas.

A few years ago, Ray took up coffee roasting in his kitchen. While the first results were terrible, he kept going until he got it right. He was also a skilled brewer and vintner, making fine beers and wines, which he shared with his family and friends. He also made cheese, which goes to show that you can take the boy out of Vermont, but you cannot take the Vermont out of the boy.

One Christmas, he made Tourtière, a traditional French Canadian meat pie, and brought that in to share. Like everything else, Ray had something special, and he would share it.

Ray was an interesting manager as well. We worked together on several important projects, and it was a rewarding experience. He really believed in my talents, encouraged them, and would challenge me with increasing responsibility. He knew that I worked hard, and never gave me grief for taking an afternoon off to golf, even suggesting it from time to time.

He was also was unafraid of change. He was always challenging us to look beyond our current state and assimilate ideas from a wide field of options. The phrase “But, that’s the way we’ve always done it” was anathema to him. But, he never instigated change for its own sake, but made calculated changes based on research and a great deal of deliberation.

Ray will be missed. What else is there to say?

R.I.P., Boss

My supervisor passed away, unexpectedly, this past weekend. He was almost 68 years old, and had spent most of last week battling an apparent stomach virus. After concerned calls from co-workers this morning, paramedics found him in his bed, where he died peacefully. Please pray for the repose of his soul.

Which Church Father am I?

O'er at The Way of the Fathers, there's a quiz:

You’re St. Melito of Sardis! You have a great love of history and liturgy. You’re attached to the traditions of the ancients, yet you recognize that the old world — great as it was — is passing away. You are loyal to the customs of your family, though you do not hesitate to call family members to account for their sins. Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers!

What's Next?

Next on Rev. Al's hit list:



Which is easier to criticise than:

Syllogism #70411

If

Al Sharpton is a Christian preacher

And

"Then Peter came and said to Him, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?" Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven." (Matt 18:21)

Then

"Don Imus has apologized, and therefore, as a Christian and follower of Jesus, I am bound to forgive him and bear him no ill will." - Al Sharpton

Actually, Rev Al said no such thing. Nothing even close. Here are Sharpton's actual statements:

"I accept his apology, just as I want his bosses to accept his resignation," - Al Sharpton

"I think to say that his statements were racist, as they've said, then that means they should not allow him to come back." - Al Sharpton

Just in case, Al, you don't have a Bible handy, here's a gem for you:

"Then summoning him, his lord said to him, 'You wicked slave, I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me.

'Should you not also have had mercy on your fellow slave, in the same way that I had mercy on you?'

"And his lord, moved with anger, handed him over to the torturers until he should repay all that was owed him.

"My heavenly Father will also do the same to you, if each of you does not forgive his brother from your heart." (Matt 18:31-34)


BTW, was the Hebrew word for 'Accuser' rendered as 'Satan'?

At War Against the Trees

Your humble narrator is currently besieged with a sinus infection, a consequence of the pollen blitzkrieg launched by the local arboreal flora. It comes at an inopportune time, as St. Jimbob is in the process of reconstruction of the Basement, and has been assailed with border skirmishes by Asymptotes and Conic Sections tribes. St. Jimbob is also managing a 10-page recommendation report for another class. And then there's work, where St. Jimbob is fighting an effort to transfer him to a different department with dysfunctional and micromanaging management.

I need 40 days off...

I'll start blogging again soon, I promise, when I can spend 10 minutes at the computer without a tissue in my hand.

Rites of String

March wind blows, virile
fights man and kite for control
taut string burns the palms

Enamoured with the Dung

Phillipians 3:8
"Furthermore I count all things to be but loss for the excellent knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord; for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but as dung, that I may gain Christ: "

or, if I may paraphrase, in faux scottish brogue, "If it's not about Christ, it's crap!"

And the copious piles of it are blotting out the rest of the horizon. Political bickering, duplicitous posturing, griping about war and illusions of peace. It's all dung. So why are we so entranced by it?

Heretics, pushing theology-wrapped dung, have been all the news this week, along with some signs of episcopal vertebrae in dealing with the heresies. Part of what makes the heresies so dangerous to the faithful and faithless alike, is the episcopal action, or inaction, and the viewers' perceptions of it. In the Maguire case, there are many orthodox believers that think that the USCCB's denunciation was both late and tepid, and many liberal believers that may take offense at the same denunciation. No one is satisfied, and both sides' view of the Church is dimmed that much further.

It's a literally no-win situation. All a heretic has to do is push, and they win, knowing that any counteraction, or inaction, will further diminish the reputation of the Church.

Pray for our bishops, that they will stand up for the true Gospel, regardless of the cost. Pray for the heretics, that they can learn humility and obedience. And pray for the audience, that we can love the Church beyond the players on the stage before us.

I'm Not Dead (yet)

Jimbob's been fairly busy, despite Diogenes' opinion. I've been working hard at work, and at school, and with a basement remodel, and other projects.

My penance has been with mixed results; as sincerely penitent as I can be, I am still too self-indulgent in many respects. Pray for me. During Mass this morning, the priest exhorted us to not be disheartened by our failures, but to remain hopeful in Christ's mercy.

itaque qui se existimat stare videat ne cadat

We adore You, O Christ, and we praise You, because, by Your holy cross, You have redeemed the world.

Returning to the Stations

['Tis a long post, so click on the 'read more' link at the bottom of the post for the epic version]

‘O Lord, as penitent as I wish the world to be, make me doubly so.’

The first round of this Lent’s Stations of the Cross was as powerful as I remember it last year. The opening prayer started things rolling:

“My Lord, Jesus Christ, You have made this journey to die for me with unspeakable love; and I have so many times ungratefully abandoned You. But now I love You with all my heart; and, because I love You, I am sincerely sorry for ever having offended You. Pardon me, my God, and permit me to accompany You on this journey. You go to die for love of me; I want, my beloved Redeemer, to die for love of You. My Jesus, I will live and die always united to You.”

My throat tightens as I pray these words, my vision blurs. My sins, though thoughtless on my part, are grievous insult to Him that goes to the Cross for me. My soul is shown in stark relief next to Him, and the difference is almost unbearable. The priest is now at the icon of the Condemnation:

“My adorable Jesus, it was not Pilate; no, it was my sins that condemned You to die. I beseech You, by the merits of this sorrowful journey, to assist my soul on its journey to eternity. I love You, beloved Jesus; I love You more than I love myself. With all my heart I repent of ever having offended You. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

Do I love Jesus? More than Myself? My behaviors too often indicate the opposite. Were that I was always this conscious of my misplaced affections. The Priest winds from Condemnation to Christ receiving the Cross, and from the Cross to the First Fall:

“My beloved Jesus, it was not the weight of the cross but the weight of my sins which made You suffer so much. By the merits of this first fall, save me from falling into mortal sin. I love You, O my Jesus, with all my heart; I am sorry that I have offended You. May I never offend You again. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

My voice breaks as I pray, the tears swell, as my sins are laid bare before me. Insouciance has a price, and that price was paid by Another. This knowledge is too convenient, and also, too antiseptic. Like a child who lives richly by the sweat of his parents, it is too easy to be comforted by platitudes about “being Saved.” Would the Bridegroom accept me, one who so often takes His saving gift for granted? The priest leads us to Mary, Simon the Cyrene, and to Veronica:

“My beloved Jesus, Your face was beautiful before You began this journey; but, now, it no longer appears beautiful and is disfigured with wounds and blood. Alas, my soul also was once beautiful when it received Your grace in Baptism; but I have since disfigured it with my sins. You alone, my Redeemer, can restore it to its former beauty. Do this by the merits of Your passion; and then do with me as You will.”

I have disfigured myself, by my choices, when I chose sin over the Cross. By no merit of mine does He come to rescue me from myself. The priest speaks, and Jesus has again fallen:

“My most gentle Jesus, how many times You have forgiven me; and how many times I have fallen again and begun again to offend You! By the merits of this second fall, give me the grace to persevere in Your love until death. Grant, that in all my temptations, I may always have recourse to You. I love You, Jesus, my Love with all my heart; I am sorry that I have offended You. Never let me offend You again. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

Patterns repeat, a dog returns to its vomit, and I, too, sin again. How can He love me so much, to see me ever fail, and yet still beckon to me? The priest announces the Meeting of the Women:

“My Jesus, laden with sorrows, I weep for the sins which I have committed against You because of the punishment I deserve for them; and, still more, because of the displeasure they have caused You who have loved me with an infinite love. It is Your love, more than the fear of hell, which makes me weep for my sins. My Jesus, I love You more than myself; I am sorry that I have offended You. Never allow me to offend You again. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

I’m sure that many will perish who will protest that they deserve better. I cannot protest, for I know what I, for my sins, deserve. Yet I am humbled by the promise of Life in trusting Christ. The priest brings us to the Third Fall, and then Jesus is Stripped of His Garments:

”My innocent Jesus, by the torment You suffered in being stripped of Your garments, help me to strip myself of all attachment for the things of earth that I may place all my love in You who are so worthy of my love. I love You, O Jesus, with all my heart; I am sorry for ever having offended You. Never let me offend You again. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

Ever so attached to my comforts, I resist so many mortifications for Him. Even tonight, upon hearing rumor of some new imposition, I seethe at the agents of the impending crisis. It is a rare cross that is picked up with perfect joy, may I quit rebelling against mine. The priest is now at the icon of the Crucifixion:

“My despised Jesus, nail my heart to the cross that it may always remain there to love You and never leave You again. I love You more than myself; I am sorry for ever having offended You. Never permit me to offend You again. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

My journey leads me to the foot of the Cross; I can embrace it, at great pain to myself now, or I can disregard it, to my eternal peril. Only the most stalwart could bear the proximity to our crucified Lord, where God’s Will loomed so large, and our conscience looms large as well. Who else could so closely witness the consequences of my sins, but our Blessed Mother, Mary. The priest moves on, Jesus dies on the Cross:

“My dying Jesus, I devoutly kiss the cross on which You would die for love of me. I deserve, because of my sins, to die a terrible death; but Your death is my hope. By the merits of Your death, give me the grace to die embracing Your feet and burning with love of You. I yield my soul into Your hands. I love You with my whole heart. I am sorry that I have offended You. Never let me offend You again. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

The price has now been paid, the debt to the Father now forgiven, but now, I am to be judged by Christ. Can I be faithful? How do I return the love so dearly shown? By taking up my own loathsome cross, to follow Him. The priest intones that Jesus is taken down from the Cross, then buried in the Tomb:

“Oh my buried Jesus, I kiss the stone that closes You in. But You gloriously did rise again on the third day. I beg You by Your resurrection that I may be raised gloriously on the last day, to be united with You in heaven, to praise You and love You forever. I love You, Jesus, and I repent of ever having offended You. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.”

Jesus was confident of the Father’s promise to raise Him up. So shall I be confident in Jesus’ promise to raise me up from my sins. May I always be steadfast in my love and obedience to Him.

We adore You, O Christ, and we praise You. Because, by your holy cross, You have redeemed the world.

Bacchanalia and Penance

Mardi Gras is upon us once again, and time to get hammered and entice women to be immodest, right? I don't understand how debauchery before a season of penance shows any sign of sincere penitence. For some, it was like filling up the car's tank before a snowstorm, or stocking up on water before a disaster. Either way, the behaviour betrays what's really dearest to the heart.

Another irony is that far more people will party for Mardi Gras than will show up for Ashes the next day. I wonder, thinking mathematically: Is the enthusiasm for Mardi Gras inversely proportional to the likelihood for a penitential Lent?

Lenten Internet Fast

Well, my friends, I wish you a good, penitent, and grace-filled Lent. Last year, I abstained from Internet usage for Lent, and found it sufficiently difficult, enough to warrant doing it again this year. I'll likely post musings on Sunday evenings, so drop by occasionally.

In Christ,

St. Jimbob

Deep Shiite

So, Muqta al-Sadr is conferring with his mentors in Iran. Is anyone really surprised? It's natural that he would be touching base with his allies, making sure that the supply lines stay open.

Despite the official denials from Iran, which are quite plausible, it's the mullahs that run the country. If the mullahs say that al-Sadr is to be armed, it happens, with or without any government paperwork.

Expect to see redoubled efforts in Washington, aimed at evacuating, retreating, withdrawing our troops from Iraq. The last thing that Americans want is a war with a country where every last man, woman, and child would pick up arms to defend their country. It might make us look bad.

Meme-orable

I got tagged by the hyper-intellects at Cosmos|Liturgy|Sex, so here it is...Five things that few people know about St. Jimbob

1) I'm the eldest of nine children, the last being 20 years younger than myself.

B) I've got multiple tattoos, but none visible when wearing my usual kit.

III) I've been programming computers since I was 8, back when games were programmed in one line at a time, starting with

10 PRINT "Adventure"
20 INPUT "What is your name? " ; U$
30 PRINT U$ ; "is facing north. There is a cave.."
et cetera

Four) I used to smoke Camel Wide Lights, partially because they would fit snugly in one's nostril. I'd be on stage, playing my bass, with a cigarrette jutting from one, or both, nostrils. You'd have to be there.

Cinq) I had been diagnosed with ADD, but I don't really believe in it, or at least, I'm a concientious objector when it comes to psychological pharmaceuticals. I prefer to be a bit flaky than to be hooked on antidepressants and amphetamines.

And there you have it. I tag Unseen Blogger.

Whoville Publishing Threatened

The Whos, down in Whoville, have a time-honored publishing tradition: they publish a periodical book called "Who's Who", so that all the Whos can tell who's who from you. This cellulose-based communication media has been declining in popularity, due to Whos using Google, Facebook, and Myspace to tell who's who anew. This upsets the Whoville cellulose-based media barons, and while this innovation is beyond their control, they are still compelled to act. What's a Who to do?

Well, a non-Who, otherwise known as a nobody, was invited to join their ranks. The Whos use the most tantalizing visions of vanity to get nobodies to submit flattering biographies for listing in the Who's Who to-do. Oh, did I mention that the exchange involves money? For several billion Lira, you too can be a Who!

So, the nobody in question was not moved by the tantalizing promise of being a Who, and decided to blog about the Who's Who crew, from his nobody point of view. Cue the attorney Who, who may threaten to sue. "Cease and Desist" rings the Who cry and Who hew. What is a nobody to do? Blog about this too!

To the Whoville publishers; Don't stew. Time marches on, and you know this is true: Innovators make money, when they make something new. So get with the times, that is your clue, and you can have wealth that will quickly accrue.

Or not.

h/t Regular Guy

Pawns

Unrest is causing problems in Nigeria, impacting oil production. From CNN:

Nigeria is Africa's largest oil producer. In 2005, it was the world's sixth largest exporter of oil, but the conflict there has cut distribution by an estimated 500,000 barrels per day, according to the U.S. Department of Energy.

The militants are threatening to hurt the oil sector even more.

While this may only seem to be a symptom, I imagine that oil production disruption is a distinct goal here.

More than 2 million barrels of crude oil is pumped out of Nigeria every day, according to the U.S. Energy Department. International oil conglomerates from the United States, China and other countries have taken up stakes in the Niger Delta. Among the oil giants are Shell, ExxonMobil, ChevronTexaco, and oil service companies like Schlumberger and Brazil's Petrobas.

And there's the stakes. While it's the Nigerian militias that are demanding a cut of the profits, there's another party/parties at work here, here's the clue:

Nigerian forces have struggled in the battle. The navy doesn't travel to the regions where CNN went because the waters are so dangerous, patrolled by armed militants in speed boats that quickly navigate through the swamps.

"The militants are far more well armed than the Nigerian navy. They have bigger guns and speed boats that can practically go anywhere, even shallow waters," she said.

A week ago, the militants sailed into Port Harcourt and boldly made their way to the central police station in the middle of the town and shot their way out, rescuing 15 of their comrades who had been arrested by the navy.

Ok, so how does a group, that claims to be extremely poor and deprived, end up better armed and equipped than the nation's government forces? Outside agitation. Proxy war. It's a time-honored African tradition to fund rebel groups in your neighboring countries. Or, it's someone who stands to gain much by disrupting oil supplies to the countries listed above, which may be more likely. It's time to start following the money..

I'm Not Gay

Inspired by Ted Haggard's stunning confession that he's not gay, and the media's fascination with the gay lobby...

GAY LOBBY : Bring out your gay!
GAY LOBBY : Bring out your gay!

MEDIA: Here's one.
GAY LOBBY: Ninepence.
TED HAGGARD: I'm not gay!

GAY LOBBY: What?
MEDIA: Nothing. Here's your ninepence.

TED HAGGARD: I'm not gay!!

GAY LOBBY: 'Ere. He says he's not gay!
MEDIA: Yes, he is.
TED HAGGARD: I'm not!

GAY LOBBY: He isn't?
MEDIA: Well, he will be soon. He's very poofy.
TED HAGGARD: I'm getting better!

MEDIA: No, you're not. You'll be flaming queer in a moment.
GAY LOBBY: Oh, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.
TED HAGGARD: I don't want to go on the cart!

MEDIA: Oh, don't be such a baby.
GAY LOBBY: I can't take him.
TED HAGGARD: I feel straight!

MEDIA: Well, do us a favour.
GAY LOBBY: I can't.
MEDIA: Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't be long.
GAY LOBBY: No, I've got to go to South Beach. They've outed nine today.

MEDIA: Well, when's your next round?
GAY LOBBY: Thursday.
TED HAGGARD: I think I'll read a Playboy.

MEDIA: You're not fooling anyone, you know. Look. Isn't there something you can do?
TED HAGGARD: [singing]
Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to..
[whop]

MEDIA: Ah, thanks very much.
GAY LOBBY: Not at all. See you on Thursday.

[apologies to Monty Python]

Not Bad for a Revert

You are a 97% traditional Catholic!

 

Congratulations! You are more knowlegeable than most modern theologians! You have achieved mastery over the most important doctrines of the Catholic Faith! You should share your incredible understanding with others!

Do You Know Your Baltimore Catechism?
Make Your Own Quiz

Not bad, considering that I've never picked up the Baltimore Catechism. I was brought up in the hippy-dippy 70's Catholic Church, left the Church in the 90's, after tiring of felt banners and stewardship campaigns (to buy more felt banners, I s'pose). Came back to the Church a decade later, after moving to Lincoln, Nebraska. Since, I've been a tireless proponent of real Catholic theology, annoying to both the liberal Left, and sometimes the blinkered Right.

h/t Leticia

Dear Senators

A letter to my senators, that though they may not read it, you and Google can:

Senators Hagel and Nelson,

This is embarrassing, guys, and not what I elected you for. Looking at the news reports, it seems you guys, along with many others in Congress, are running around like Frenchmen; arms in the air, looking for someone to surrender to.

I get it, you guys want to get reelected someday, but screwing up this war is selfishness. A common criticism of the war in Viet Nam was that Congress meddled with how to fight the war. Another factoid about Viet Nam is how many people in the region were slaughtered, by the regimes we left intact, after we gave up.

Whether we were suckered in rightly or wrongly, let us agree to be men about it and finish the job so that we don’t leave the populace of Iraq in peril. It may not be in the “National Interest”, at least in the short-term, but it should be a point of national honor. I hope you have the courage to do the honorable thing.

Sincerely,

[St. Jimbob's real name will remain a misery, um, mystery]