Day 4

Accidentally deleted the last one. I got a bit behind, because I was busy...but while I'm waiting for my rice to cook (curry), I'm doing Day 4.

Today's thing to squee over: the whole confession thing.

And as to why it's something to squee over, I'd like to share the story of my first confession. I was in 2nd grade. This was when I was having problems in school, and my teacher had discovered that the reason why I was having problems in school was because I was horribly bored. I loved my second grade teacher. But there were still problems. One such problem happened, and (as is wont to happen), my parents found out about it. Now, in hindsight, it wasn't a big deal, and my teacher wasn't overly bothered about it. But my parents (who weren't winning any parenting awards), raked me over the coals for it. Like I still have nightmares about that "discussion." Every time thereafter when I'd annoy them or do something wrong, they'd bring it up.

So when it was time for our first confessions, I was scared. Now, forgiveness isn't a concept that exists in abusive families. There's nothing that you can ever to do mitigate the consequences of your actions. You are always at fault, no matter what. Love is also conditional upon how good you are. When I had to tell my parents what I had done, it was literally hell on earth.

So when it was my time, I was terrified, and I confessed that incident. I remember crying, when the priest asked if I were sorry. I remember him telling me that God still loved me, which made me cry all the more.

After that day, my parents never mentioned that incident. I never told them what I confessed, either. I don't remember the priest's name, but I wonder if he ever knew what a grace I'd received.

30 Days of Squee, Day 1

So I'm really not feeling the blogging thing. It seems like the blogosphere is dominated by those who shout the loudest, and I'm really not interested in trolls. That having been said, I'm declaring a month-long ban on polemics in my blog. I'll save the bitching for my LJ, and I'm ruthlessly deleting comments that bitch on my blog. Y'all have your own blogs you can bitch on for a month.

That having been said, I'm going to do a "30 days of squee." In other words, each day I'm going to post something that keeps me coming back to the RCC through all the bullshit.

Day 1: There are people like Fr. Tom in the RCC. I know my LJ is probably tired of him by now, but I've never met a more saintly, wonderful person. He lost his battle with cancer yesterday, and although it's sad, I can't help but be happy that I knew him, however brief. I think either this picture or this one sums up how a lot of people remember him.

http://www.commonwealmagazine.org/article.php3?id_article=2417

Everyone's probably already seen this, but there's some good stuff in there. (If you can stand Yet Another Post about the last presidential election.) Like:

A hate-filled blogosphere, on the other hand, feeds a politics of odium, misleading people of faith and good will, diminishing and at times obliterating our ability to know one another. Our faith urges us to presume the stranger is kind, and to seek out opportunities to manifest love of neighbor.

I'd think that World of Warcraft would be the last place to look for commentary on social justice issues, but I've run into a few quests the past couple of days that bring up a number of issues.

First up is the quest, "Art of Persuasion." In it, the player is asked to "interrogate" a prisoner, since the quest-giver is forbidden from such things by his faction. There's no question what the player is being asked to do when given an item that will cause extreme pain, but no damage. There is also no way to progress the quest line without doing this quest, nor are there ways to complete it without torturing a prisoner. (For the record, while there's a lot I've done in video games, this quest was way over the line, and I dropped it.)

What's really over the line for me is that a player can keep poking the prisoner, after information is supposedly received (or so the write-ups on the quest say). That, and players can get other "neural needles" for free from another NPC in the same area. Yet another instance of the Milgram experiments.

Supporters of the quest will point out that it's no different from the TV show, "24," and the Death Knight opening quest sequence. One, the show "24" isn't accurate in that torture rarely gives accurate information. People will say whatever the hell they think the torturers want to get them to quit. Secondly, in the Death Knight opening quests, the person the player needs to get information from is fighting back the entire time. Plus, the Death Knights in that quest line are supposed to be evil and under the thrall of the Lich King. My gnome warlock who happened upon that quest is supposed to be one of the good guys, and fully in control of herself.

If this quest is supposed to be a critique of the Bush/Cheney policy of "special interrogations," it fails. There's no way to finish the quest without playing along, for one.

But the Netherwing Drake quests in the Outland more than make up for the torture quest. In them, the player happens upon the Netherwing Drake flight in one of the Outland areas and eventually winds up helping free them from slavery in a nuanced fable about human trafficking. The entire quest line walks the player through earning their trust, to infiltrating the faction imprisoning them, working with others trying to free the drakes, and finally breaking the fel Orcs' domination of them.

Never mind that the end of that quest line is one of the coolest ever. It's not every day that you fly off into the sunset on the back of a huge dragon.

Yet another drive-by posting, but this link is too good not to share. It's an article written about Our Lady of Guadalupe. I was thinking to myself how she could possibly speak to a 21st century person. Here's how:

http://jesusindisney.blogspot.com/2008/12/nuestra-senora.html

Courtesy of Maria, who posted about it first.

You know, when conservatives start going off on feminism and how Mary (specifically Our Lady of Guadalupe) wasn't a feminist, I wonder who the heck they're talking about.

She was pregnant and not married in a time when that was a death sentence at the hands of men. She's the first contemplative, when she chose the better part of pondering everything in her heart. (It used to be that Trappists--men and women--would take her name at their professions.) She got Jesus off his ass at Cana, when women just didn't talk to men like that. She was there at the crucifixion and then in the upper room. Sounds like a wonderfully empowered woman, to me. She also has a habit of appearing to children and peasants, not exactly bourgeoisie.

And I just learned that she's got her own book in the Qu'ran. This is pretty cool. I think it would be fun to get a Muslim's opinion on Luke.

(Crossposted from my LJ.)

Kind of a drive-by posting. Haven't had much to say lately, I guess. Found a blog to share:

http://youngwomenandcatholicism.blogspot.com/

Now, when I hear "young women" and "Catholicism" on a blog, I immediately think of what the Catholic barfosphere thinks of the terms. That version of womanhood doesn't remotely describe or speak to my life. I was hesitant, but Sr. Julie of A Nun's Life writes for them, so I thought I'd take a peek. (Since she's cool and has interesting things to say.) Glad I did, because it's nice to be reminded that there are others on the 'Net who're like me.

I was trying to express everything I'm thankful for in my bloggy friends, but I think this video conveys a very special Thanksgiving message to everyone:

Bishops ask for stay of execution. This makes me happy with my archbishop. You don't want to read the comments on it. it surprises me how liberal Seattle can be, except when some undesirable is involved (homeless people, people on death row, etc.)

So this morning the video of Sarah Palin giving an interview with a man slaughtering turkeys in the background made its way through my blog feeds and friend's list. The whole fascination with Joe Six Pack makes me wonder a few things.

1.) When did we stop thinking critically about what people say? Seriously. A lot of people I know just trusted Palin without really thinking about what she was saying or the implications thereof.

2.) When did that kind of everyman appeal become a replacement for moral inscrutability? While the whole Troopergate thing was in the news, it seemed as if it didn't really matter. Either the GOP pulled off the greatest snow-job in the country's history, or people are just sheep.

Then I come across a new blog/website by the people who do Rosary Army by accident. Now in my great internet fast of a month ago, I realized a few things. One, I fill my life with a lot of noise, especially the kind of noise that vehemently disagrees with me and sees my life as morally repugnant. I'm not going to convince those types that I'm just as faithful a Catholic as they am. They don't want to be reminded that the Church is about diversity. But I need to get something off my chest.

Anyway, back to the site. On the surface, it's not something to draw attention to. There are the requisite pictures of family and friends. They go to great pains to portray themselves as normal. And they may very well be. I don't know them personally. But then you get to a "joke" page on their site.

Isn't this the same division they're accusing the rest of us of? It's Yet Another instance of the kind of us-vs-them fundamentalist rhetoric that got us into the war in Iraq, not to mention the underlying cause of division in the Church. I'm sick to death of people in the pews trumping themselves up on how good they are and how the rest of us--some of which who faithfully and prayerfully wrestle with some of the cultural aspects of the Church--are just "Catholics in name only" or "Cafeteria Catholics." I think I have a good sense of humor, but I fail to see it in Loophole Cereal.

Go to any blog lately that bills itself as the least bit Catholic, and you'll find screed after screed about why the other person shouldn't receive the Eucharist. There's all sorts of speculation about the state of anyone else's soul but their own, even if it's the thinly-veiled "satire" of Loophole Cereal.

I got news for them: there's plenty of room at the steam table for everyone, as a friend of mine says, and they pick and choose just as much as the rest of us.

Blogroll got put back. If anyone's having problems with trolls finding your blog because of it, let me know. I had to axe it before, because a particular troll would follow peoples' links, like a virus.

Fear and Loathing in Seattle

I have a bunch of thoughts in my head, and none are too coherent. Hopefully once I've had more coffee, they'll condense into some sort of unified whole.

So last night I was watching the documentary, "Deliver us from Evil." Now when it's merely reporting on the facts and interviewing O'Grady, it's superb. When it starts hypothesizing as to why the sex abuse scandals happened, it starts to fail. When the documentary descends into Moore-like tactics to get two of O'Grady's victims to deliver a letter to the Vatican, it outright fails. Seriously, what did Doyle and the filmmakers expect to happen? If you're interested, it's up on fancast, but it's graphic in parts.

Then last week, this came to light about the Catholic Church's cooperation with the Mormons to pass Proposition 8.

It would seem like the proper response to all of this in some circles is self-loathing. I hate what some people do in the Church's name. I hate how a vocal minority is making things worse for everyone. I also hate how a TV station puts forth its opinions on Catholic teaching as gospel. I hate how the bishops in my country failed us on multiple occasions, not the least of which last week. But I can't bring myself to hate the Church, as would seem to be expected of me in some circles. But if I don't express the proper self-loathing, then I'm lumped in with those who would attend Sarah Palin rallies.

I guess I'm tired of people assuming I'm part of a monolith. Catholics have always been about unity in diversity, and that's still true, no matter what a vocal minority says. I'm willing to bet if I poll the people who read my blog regularly, there would be as diverse a collection of opinions here as anywhere else in the US. I'm also tired of people mistaking Roman law for anglo-saxon law. Being Catholic has never been about absolutism, but navigating a living tradition.

I wonder if it's a good thing that we can hear instant opinions from anyone about any subject matter. For instance, were my bishop to post that he likes Code Red Mountain Dew, we could hear about it instantly. He could even come on record saying he thinks all Catholics should drink Code Red Mountain Dew. But would it make it Church teaching? Nope, yet some are willing to elevate everything a bishop, cardinal, or Pope says as having the same moral weight. It's nice to know that the other side of this mess picks and chooses as much (if not more) as I do.

So I'm reaching my critical mass for stupidity: both regarding the elections in the US and about certain news of a show I obsessively watch. I'm not sure what annoys me more: people who insist that Catholics can't vote any other way but Republican, or those who insist that Doctor Who jumped the shark when Christopher Eccleston left the show. So long as I don't get anyone telling me that Catholics can't possibly like any other companion besides Rose, it's all good. But if something interesting happens in blogdom at large, let me know. I'm still reading my regular blogs, but I'm shutting off the feeds for everything else until the batshit cools down a bit.

5 minute chocolate mug cake

Again putting this here so I remember it.

5 MINUTE CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE
4 tablespoons flour
4 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons oil
3 tablespoons chocolate chips (optional)
a small splash of vanilla extract
1 large coffee mug

Add dry ingredients to mug, and mix well. Add the egg and mix thoroughly.
Pour in the milk and oil and mix well. Add the chocolate chips (if using)
and vanilla extract, and mix again.
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3
minutes at 1000 watts. The cake will rise over the top of the mug, but
don't be alarmed! Allow to cool a little, and tip out onto a plate if
desired.

It's tasty. I just made some, but I couldn't wait for it to cool. It definitely becomes more cake-like if you let it sit.

Where I stand

Hi. Sorry, I've been absent, but the Hoopy Frood and I have been playing World of Warcraft lately. The family that slays together...(level 61 gnome warlock, Misha, if you're interested.)

So I've been hearing people say how lonely they feel on the blogosphere, and how their opinions may not be shared. This is probably the only time I'm going to mention some of the topics, here, and I do so out of solidarity for those who're feeling kind of lonely right now. (As we approach election season in the US and those who think you can't be a good Catholic and vote a certain way start shrieking louder. As an aside, I heard a good term for those: they're the Catholic "barfosphere.")

1.) I've yet to hear a compelling reason why people of the same sex shouldn't marry. I've tried understanding the arguments, but at the end of the day, the fact that two men or two women love each other and want to make the same commitment the Frood and I do to each other doesn't impact us in any way, shape or form. If anything, I'd think other couples in a sacramental kind of love would strengthen us.

And while we're at it, I really hate the "sacramental" or "non-sacramental" designation of marriages. Unless the Frood gets baptized, ours won't ever be a sacramental marriage. You know what? After he flew out to help me with Phase 1 of the bedbug invasion, I'm convinced beyond belief that our relationship is a sacrament. Here I am, getting all filled up over it, but that's when I realized what we've got, when we were ass-deep in bedbugs, getting bitten every night, and literally going through hell. Nobody can convince me otherwise, either. (And the whole fairytale wedding BS pales in comparison to him cleaning under my desk, so I could've gone to Mass.) Bah, I'm all verklempt now.

2.) If you call yourself pro-life and think the death penalty is a good idea and think torture is ever acceptable, just go pound sand.

3.) In the same manner, if you protest or pray at abortion clinics and ignore people begging for spare change nearby, there's a big pile of sand for you to go pound, too. The 40 Days for Life people are active at praying at a local Planned Parenthood, but Nickelsville is a matter of blocks away from them. If they really thought all life was sacred, they'd be pissed as hell that people have to live in tents in the middle of our city. Not to mention that the same group of people has been harassed, intimidated, and threatened.

4.) I think ordaining women in the RCC right now would be a spectacularly bad idea. We need to get everyone on board with the idea that women can contribute to the Church, and all women need to be on the same parity. What do you think would happen to a woman in an area of the world that routinely kills women for "honor" would do, if she proclaimed the Gospel? In the wake of Theology of the Body, I don't see women being ordained in my lifetime.

5.) Along with that, I think that people putting women in their special place of motherhood is ghettoizing them. Yes, I think some are called to be mothers, but some aren't. (Although truth be told, this is something you find in mainstream society, as well.)

6.) Every time I hear the term "culture war," I want to be sick. Look, Albigensianism went out of fashion in the 13th century. Yeah, there's a lot of ugly stuff out there, but people are so obsessed with it, they're missing the beautiful things, as well.

I'm Jen, and I approve this message.

"Did they beat the drum slowly..."

So a post on Waylon Jennings on William's blog got me thinking about the link between folk music and older forms of country. I think it was the Lomaxes, who discovered that pure strains of European folk music can be found in Appalachia, possibly purer forms of the same songs sung in Europe. (it was in the Journal of Ethnomusicology...I had the article, but it's still packed away somewhere.)

Anyway, my nieces referenced a song done by Johnny Cash. Now, I'm not a huge fan of country, and my nieces don't care for older country. (They prefer the newer stuff, where I can actually listen to the older stuff.) So I took a listen to it:



And it sounded really familiar. The melodic contour is very similar to this one, a song done by the Dropkick Murphys:



Right before the chorus ("Did they beat the drum slowly"), you can hear how the melody still follows the contours of "Streets of Laredo." When "Streets of Laredo" has the same lyrics as "No Man's Land," the two are almost identical.

Here is a version of "Streets of Laredo" that's even closer melodically to "No Man's Land." This version is closer to "The Unfortunate Rake," an earlier ballad, than "Streets of Laredo."

"No Man's Land" was composed in 1976 by Eric Bogle. Here's another version of it, done by the Fureys.



Then I started doing a bit of research on the two songs. Turns out that "Streets of Laredo" is sung to the same tune as an early 18th century Irish ballad, "The Bard of Armagh."



It turns out that "The Bard of Armagh" got recycled into the 19th century song, "The Unfortunate Rake." Ta-da! Eventually it changed from ballad form to the verse-chorus-verse form and got a bit more complex melodically. And guess what? "The Unfortunate Rake" becomes "St. James Infirmary Blues," when it goes to New Orleans.

Very rare political post from me. First, Keith Olbermann on Sarah Palin:



Next up, McCain's racisim:



Don't believe one guy? Read it for yourself in McCain's own account here.

Chicken and stuffing scratch space

Crockpot recipe I'm making tonight. It's really good, but I'm putting it here, because I can never remember where I found it:

24 baby carrots, sliced lengthwise (Yeah, I don't bother, because they turn to mush. I like carrots with substance.)
24 tiny whole potatoes
1 1/2 pound boneless, skinless chicken breast halves, cut bite size (Don't bother cutting up the chicken, because it only falls apart anyway)
10 ounces can cream of chicken soup
2 cups frozen peas (Gross. I don't do peas. Broccoli works well.)
1/2 cup hot water
2 tablespoons butter
6 1/4 ounces stove top stuffing package (I use the cornmeal one)

Directions:
Place carrots, then potatoes in bottom of crock. Layer chicken over potatoes.
Whisk soup in small bowl. add peas to soup. Stir gently. Spoon over chicken.
Stir hot water and butter in bowl to melt butter. Add stuffing. Stir; spoon over chicken mixture.
Cook on low 8-9 hours or high 4-4 1/2 hours.

This one goes out to Rev. Mommy:

And we're baaack!

I'm all moved in to the new place, and I'm liking it. If you'd like to see pictures, go here. (Think they're all captioned.) DSL got hooked up yesterday, so I'm back on the 'net.

On the one hand, I can't really do without internet. Too much of what I do requires email communication--emails are sent to my chair, my work communicates via email, and Steve and I use internet-based methods of communication a lot. (Plus we play games online with each other. I'm now playing a warlock in WoW.)

On the other hand, I think my internet fast was good for me. Now, I'm by no means a Carmelite in terms of asceticism. I'm attracted to the Trappists and Camaldolese, but I also realize that I (as a lay person) have different needs than they do. Knowing that I need certain things isn't pride. If anything, it can be a discipline in itself to use responsibly the things one has. (I believe this is a point Chittister makes in her commentary on the Rule of St. Benedict, which is still packed up.) For instance, I could've done without a good computer desk, but the one I have makes life so much easier, with as much work on the computer as I do. (I could really use a better chair, though. Ergonomics aren't negotiable.)

But as the week without regular 'net access went on, it became obvious to me that I was using the internet at home to fill my life with noise. Suddenly I had to be more organized, so I'd have time to head to a coffee house to check email first thing in the morning. I had time for the Divine Office because I didn't have the 'net to distract me. And I recovered some of the silence that had been missing from my life over the summer.

But I'm glad I've got the 'net back. It's cheaper to make coffee in the new kitcheny area and surf, for one. For the other, the Hoopy Frood and I need some sort of online communication, otherwise the phone bills get onerous. (for instance, I had almost 800 minutes on my phone at the start of the Great Internet Fast. At the end of it, I have 200 left.)

I keep thinking, though: Do I really need a nice place to live and DSL that's at T1 speeds? Sure, I could--and did--make do with a place that wasn't the greatest and with slower broadband, but after upgrading both places, I wished I'd moved and gotten faster DSL sooner. I mean, now, I can watch a YouTube video without it stuttering or loading all the way. (YouTube videos aren't necessary for life, but they're relatively small--it should give you an example of how slow my old DSL was.) New furniture--a bed, a desk, and a chair--wasn't optional. One good way of bringing bedbugs with you is to move furniture. Plus, the stuff I had was stuff that was hand-me-downs or garbage picked. I've since learned that's a great way to get bedbugs, as well.

As an aside, I so wouldn't wish bedbugs on anyone. Cockroaches, if you have them and don't live somewhere tropical, it's generally something you did or didn't do. Bedbugs? They're just an act of God. You get them, it's nothing you did or didn't do. they're pure chaos.

Sure, I could make do with less--we all can--but the things I have are concessions to make life a bit easier. I think what separates Benedictines from other orders is the attention to the ordinary. Caring for the tools you have is as much a sacred thing as caring for things used in the Mass, for instance. Your everyday work is a form of prayer. But what I think differentiates this from other organizations (say Opus Dei) is that it should be "nothing harsh or burdeonsome." That is, it should be something to give the stronger something to strive for and the weaker nothing to run from. (Paraphrasing a line from the chapter on the qualities of the abbot, since my copy of the Rule of St. Benedict is also packed.)

The Benedictine notion of asceticism isn't asceticism for the sake of punishing one's self, but for making it so that a person appreciates the things he/she has. (Merton makes this point in New Seeds of Contemplation. That book is also still packed.) Right now, I could use some coffee.