L'Affaire du Wallet

I love franglais (mostly because it annoys the French.) The title of this post refers to a hysterical episode this evening, during which my sister lost her wallet. This was very bad, because my sister has a drug test for a new job tomorrow. And she needs her wallet for that.

"Ohime!" she exclaimed, in her best Italian accent. "All is despair, for I have lost my penny purse."

"Where," I inquired, "did you have it last?"

"But why do you ask this, gnocca" she replied. "You obviously don't care about my troubles, and are going straight to eternal torment in the inferno."

Thus commenced a display such as you have never seen. The wailing, the weeping, the sobbing and moaning! She was either going to a funeral, giving birth, are searching in vain for a wallet. It was the latter. She stayed upstairs in our room, hopping about like a mad woman, insensible to reason, flapping her arms in the fashion of a crazed bird.

I retreated downstairs to confer with our parents to decide: What Are We Going To Do. It was thought at first that she might have left the wallet at church yesterday. So we called dear Shannon, who gave us the number for the pastor. Oy, if I did not know that this certain pastor is numbered among the nicest people in the world, I would have died from embarassment! But there was no answer, only a voice mail machine, and the wallet was still unfound.

My Father is a low-church Protestant. That matter is settled, except when he is in the trenches. He suggested asking St. Anthony to help us locate the missing thing. St. Anthony is very very good for finding things, and we use him so much, I begin to think we abuse him. Poor, long suffering St. Anthony!

But at this point, it was we in this house who were doing the long suffering. The ceiling shook from the elephant above, and we prayed, "help us St. Anthony," and racked our brains for places to look. Where did she last have her wallet? In our bedroom.

"Garsh," our Ma drawled, "then the end is near. That room is such a mess, it's probably buried somewhere in your laundry."

At which point, we heard a half-choked sob sound forth from upstairs: "Fear not, for I have found it! I have found it! The Holy Grail, I mean, wallet!"

I rushed to the bottom of the stairs. "Was it buried in my laundry," I asked.

"Yes it was, stupido. And this sin of yours is nearly unforgivable. But I forgive you, because that is my way."

Then we had a group hug and ate some chocolate covered strawberries etc.

Seriously, this is more or less how it happened. And the only thing I've got left to say is: Thank you Saint Anthony!

I Like This "Saint of the Day" Thing

Because it gives me something to write about on my lazy days, when very few original thoughts course through my brains.

Today is an Ordinary Time Sunday. But tomorrow, friends, tomorrow is the Feast of St. Cyril of Alexandria. St. Cyril is cool because he was a doctor of the Church in the East.

St. Cyril is also cool because he ran the third Ecumenical Council in Ephesus. Now, Ecumenical Councils are always Very Big Deals.

The 1st Ecumenical Council affirmed that Jesus was Divine, smacked down Arianism.

The 2nd Ecumenical Council affirmed that the Holy Spirit was Divine, smacked down Macedonians.

The 3rd Ecumenical Council affirmed that Mary was the Mother of God, smacked down Nestorianism.

The 4th Ecumenical Council affirmed that Jesus was Human as well as Divine, smacked down Monophysites.


There have been 21 of them in all of history. You can see them all here.

Female Marines?

This morning delivered some very bad news:Female Marines were ambushed in Iraq.

The US Military does not allow women to be in combat. It traditionally does everything feasible to keep them away from the front lines. But Female Marines? Come on. Aren't Marines the front line people? Don't they always go in first?

I'm against women in combat, and not just because of the grenade throwing thing, either. It has more to do with the special privilege granted to women. Women generate other human beings. Violence against them therefore especially violates that which human beings should hold most sacred: Life.

The push to subject women to every form of brutality, and all in the name of "holy equality," is another sign that Feminism has jumped the tracks. Go read Papa Ratzinger, he agrees with me.

One of them Good Lawyers

Today is the Feast Day of St. Thomas More. The next time a "Catholic" politician gives that "I'm personally opposed, but ..." line, all you've got to do is remind them of St. Thomas More, who spat King Henry's flattery out of his mouth in mighty fine fashion.

And the next time you're depressed by certain members of our Wet-Noodle episcopacy, don't forget St. John Fisher. Its his Feast Day too. Only one loyal bishop in all of Merry Old England ... and they didn't have the distance of the Atlantic Ocean to contend with ...

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder ... or more forgetful" (of liturgical norms and related instructions issued by Rome in a serious don't-make-me-pull-this-car-over sort of tone.)

One of them Good Jesuits

Today is the Memorial of Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, patron of young people. You can read all about him here.

St. Aloysius was young and heroic, especially where chastity was concerned. If the grown-ups had many brains, they'd figure it out: Kids don't wanna hear that they're nothing but mindless dogs in heat: "We want you to be good, but we know you can't control yourselves, so here's a condom, at least be safe."

You moldy-oldy cynics. How about a little faith? "We want you to be good, we expect you to be good, and you can be good."

Rank and Foul Criminal That I am ...

I did the vile deed, and exceeded my allotted "photobucket" bandwidth. My punishment, as you can see, has been swiftly forthcoming and all too severe.

I am assured by Responsible People that all my lovely pictures will return shortly. In the meantime, we must twiddle our thumbs and go on a photo-fast. Good show!

Raise Your Kids In Lincoln

The Bishop of Lincoln, Fabian Bruskewitz, is a goodie. A goodie, for sure. Lincoln is a very peaceful diocese, because His Excellency doesn't tolerate any funny business, not from either side of the liturgical divide. He gets a lot of flack, but he can take it. And his seminaries are overflowing.

Lincoln, Nebraska produces a lot of Good Stock. Take the Bishop of Baker, for example. He was once a Monsignor in Lincoln, and as you can tell, he's "very hardy."

Cow On Roller Skates

Joy to the world, I got a pair of black, old fashioned quad roller skates yesterday. I used to love roller skating, and I'm determined to at least "like" it again.

Yesterday my brothers had dinner and a show; Ma made spaghetti, and then everyone gathered outside to point and laugh at me as I clodded around in the driveway. Should I wear a helmet? I like to think I won't be hit by a car in my own driveway. But its been known to happen.

In other news, my brother (the older younger one) has ringworm. Yes, ringworm. Welcome to the third world. This is what comes from hissing at Ma whenever she tries to wash your bath towels, little brother: "Don't touch them! There not yours, their mine. Mine! Precious!" (Use a Gollum accent, please.)

A MTV Thing I Actually Like

I have little use for MTV. And I don't listen to much "hip hop". But this song, from rap artist Nick Cannon, is among the more touching things I've ever seen. And its done in a really remarkable, non-cheezy way, too. You can watch the music video here.

Emergency 911: Church Under Attack by Blue Jean Clad Nuns! Papa to the Rescue!!!

Be a Teacher. So That Future Generations Will Be Spared This Crappiness:

Today I discovered my First Communion text book. I'm very sorry to say that I don't remember my First Communion; in the photographs my sister and I are wearing pretty white dresses, smiling nervously.

I don't remember anything, and now I know why. In my First Communion text book (published with the imprimatur of scandal-ridden Bishop Frank J. Rodimer) the table of contents appears like this:

"The Eucharist is about ..."

Chapter 1. Belonging
Chapter 2. Celebrating
Chapter 3. Listening
Chapter 4. Caring
Chapter 5. Making Peace
Chapter 6. Giving Thanks For Creation
Chapter 7. Giving Thanks For New Life
Chapter 8. Sharing A Meal
Chapter 9. Going Forth To Make The World Better

All these things are more or less true. But I read the stupid thing, and there is not ONE SINGLE WORD about the Real Presence of the Lord Christ Jesus in the Eucharist. The Real Presence is the REASON the Church exists AT ALL. It is THE most fundamental part of the Catholic Faith. And the book written to explain the importance of the Eucharist to little children completely ignores the fact.

Behold the "catechetical crisis" which the Curial Cardinals so often lament. I was supposed to learn about the Real Presence, but the authors of this book had an idiotic political agenda, so "who cares about Little Susie and Little Johnny's spiritual welfare, so long as my purposes are served." Oy, I'm furious.

In better news: Papa Bendetto is going to hold
a special catechetical meeting for children who just received First Holy Communion. Go Papa! Smackdown the Milk and Cookies Jesus stuff!

Marjorie Helen Bax Becomes a Postulant

Pray for her!
From the Monastery of the Heart of Jesus:

Go read my sister's funny "Howard Dean Gaffe Machine"

and kudos to the Curt Jester

Free Thinkers? Or Totalitarian Facists?

The Liberal Catholic Church is an actual independent entity, made up of so-called "Old Catholics." It, like many horrible and destructive things, was spawned by the Dutch.

On their rather amusing website, the Liberal Catholics explain that they have smells, bells, and traditional ceremonies, all without the annoying obligations and responsiblities of the Church (the real one.) They criticize the evil oppression of the "non-Liberal" Catholic Church:

"Membership [...] rests on the acceptance of a common belief. There is frequently wide discrepancy between the real belief of a thoughtful individual and the official profession which is expected of him. This leads to suppressed disbelief, to say nothing of insincerity, and tends to check the free exercise of the mind."

Acquiescing to unity of Faith? Resisting temptations to disbelief? The horror, the horror.

"The Liberal Catholic Church permits to lay members entire freedom in the interpretation of Creeds, Scriptures and Traditions, and of the Liberty. It asks only that differences of interpretation be courteously expressed."

In other words, come for the fancy costumes, and all the fruit salad you can eat! Thats whats holding these people together. It's a marvelous "we believe we don't have to believe" thing.

These "Old Catholics" (as opposed to the "New Catholics") find authority to be a real downer. So instead of choosing the liberty and freedom guaranteed by obedience, they embrace an ideology which Papa Ratzi calls "the dictatorship of relativism."

Today's Sign of the Apocalypse

Tonight I decided to go sprawl out in the grass and watch the stars come out. I listened to Allegri's Miserere. I had fun sending airplanes to Cairo, Jakarta, and Buenos Aries. I shut the music off and spent some time with Christ Jesus. Allll good, right?

So the sun went down, the diamonds appeared, and I was content. All of a sudden, I heard a crash in this thicket which abuts the backyard. I ignored it. But then it happened again! I sat up and stared into the darkness ... silence. I thought: Holy fudge. I'm going to fall asleep here, and when I wake up I'll be surrounded by a herd of rabid deer.

But I decided: stop being silly, you twit. And I fell over again, and peace returned. Five seconds later, I heard snorting coming from the thicket. You know, snorting. The kind of noise male deer make right before they skewer intruders on their territory?

So, tonight, I was chased out of my own backyard. By a deer. Soon they'll be walking on two legs, wielding high powered rifles, and accusing us of overbreeding. They'll blend right in with the birth control imperialists at the United Nations.

There are persistent rumours that my bishop, Cardinal McCarrick, will be retiring soon. He's hitting the mandatory offer-your-resignation-or-else age of 75 this July. The whisperers say it will be accepted by the Vatican on an "expedited" basis. (His Eminence's performance during the 2004 Kerry Katholic dust up made a certain Doctrine Chief cranky!)

So, if that happens, who will replace him? The Vaticanisti say perhaps Edwin O'Brien, Charles Chaput, or maybe William Lori?

These are all stand up guys. True Knights, totally. But I'm hoping for Raymond Burke, the hammer of Saint Louis! I'd feel badly about poaching another red-hat candidate from St. Louis (them losing Rigali was so not fair.)

But DC is swarming with Kerry Katholics who need smackdowns, and Archbishop Burke cuts the fat without counting the cost. His appointment is Papa Benedetto's nuclear option. Papa has nerves of steel, so I wouldn't bet against him using it. Lets just hope there's no Cardinal McCain lurking in the background, waiting to muck things up.

I know its been awhile ...

But it's not my fault! I've been at work all week! It's a ten hour day and an hour long commute, at the end of which I'm so beat I can barely lift my derriere out of the bucket seat of my Dad's jalopy.

Nanny Tips For the City (and the Country)

Is Baby fussy? Smell and kiss his little feet. Try not to get kicked in the face.

Out for a walk with Baby? Threaten over-curious vagrants with pepper spray.

Feeding Baby? Applaud the successful digestion of every single bite.

Changing Baby's diaper? The operation must be run with the precision of NASA: All systems go, clear for take off, countdown, launch!

I'll post something more substantial later. Tomorrow its pick up the recently-often-cranky-but-nevertheless-lovable sister time! Wish me luck and safe travels!

A Question About Scripture and Whether There Is A God At All

Two equally honest, well-meaning, faithful, intelligent people read the Bible. They ask the Holy Spirit to guide them. They pray. They meditate. One reads and decides that the Lord's Supper is merely symbolic. The other reads and believes that the Eucharist means "this is, really and truly, my actual Body." This happens all the time.

Who's right? Who's guided by the Holy Spirit? They both prayed for help, didn't they? But one answer is the truth, the other is a lie, and the Holy Spirit inspires no lie. The Lord Himself went so far as to say that whomever does not eat His Body does not have eternal life. Understanding what He meant by "my body" is vitally important. But how are we to choose? How are we to know what is the truth? Are we to go wherever our individual experiences lead us? Has the Lord left us twisting in the wind?

There are those two things the world despises: authority and obedience. These are two great gifts of a truly merciful God. If there were no obedience, no authority, I would be in Hell by now. I would have surely died of despair. I'm weak and stupid, but I'm smart and strong enough to realize it, and admit it. The prospect of entrusting the judgment of eternal Truths to my feeble brain is a nightmarish one. Imagine having to decide whether "this is my body" is literal or figurative, or if the doctrine of the Trinity is true or not, or if St. Paul's admonitions against homosexuality "apply" to our culture. Like I said, I know myself, and I would die of despair. Or fright.

So what to make of people who rely only on their own personal interpretation of Scripture? Either 1.They don't realize how easily led astray human beings, including themselves, are or 2. They do know, but they are being very very brave about it all.

Myself, I don't think a Just and Merciful God, knowing our incompetance, would leave individuals the unbearable burden of deciding the answers to these extremely important questions. And an unjust and unmerciful God is not worth having. Can such a God even exist? That is another reason I am grateful for obedience and authority: If those things were absent, I would not believe in the existence of God. I would be an atheist, and confronted with the un-opposed evil of the world, I would die. Of despair or fright.

So Obedience is yet another way Christ Jesus preserves my life. Thank you, Jesus, for my life!

Okay, guys. In case I haven't mentioned it before: this Summer, I'm a Nanny for a little almost-2 year old boy we'll call "Baby." Baby is a real cutie. He's an only child. The Ma is very religious, and she tried to convince me celibacy was evil the other day. She's sweet and you can tell she really cares about her kid (in my experience, not all parents do.)

But the kid is over-stimulated. His Ma has things planned for him for every day, twice a day. I don't really mind driving everywhere, but I can tell Baby is going to be a really smart, socially mal-adjusted doctor when he grows up.

Kudos to For Lack of a Better Term, purveyor of "Ratzinger's Rottweilers,"a new Papa fanclub. Of course I'm a member, silly!

Here's looking at you, kids

16 Eggs Benedict

Hat-tip to the Holy Whapping

I Stole This From Just A Hick

My version is heavily edited, because I was too lazy to answer all the questions...

TWO: On The Inside
Your heritage: On my dad's side: My grandma is from Austria. My grandpa is from Romania. My Ma's family were all born here, so they're just plain American.
Shoes you wore today: My blah uniform Nanny Shoes
Your weakness: mashed potatoes + gravy.
Your fears: Most things scare me, but I'm extraordinarily brave.
Your perfect pizza: Plain, big crust, extra cheese.
Goal you'd like to achieve: Get those all important letters (St.) attached to the beginning of my name

FIVE: Do You?
Smoke: No
Cuss: Everyone has accidents
Sing: Everyone has accidents
Take a shower everyday: Unless I'm prevented
Have a crush(es): Nah. Guys who pray the Rosary drive me crazy though:)
Think you've been in love: of course!
Like high school: It was mind-numbingly dull, but not excruciatingly painful, the way third grade through middle school was. Its all relative.
Want to get married: Nope. The correct word is espoused.
Believe in yourself: Often enough
Get motion sickness: Nope
Think you're a health freak: Nope
Get along with your parents: Not recently
Like thunderstorms: I love them I love them I love them
Play an instrument: Violin. Very badly

EIGHT: Getting Older
Age you hope to be married: Don't think I'm ever getting hitched.
Numbers and Names of Children: If I had kids I was going to name, their first names would be classics, but the middle names would be obscure medieval saints who died magnificent deaths. Of course, I'm hoping to have tons and tons of spiritual children. So there.
How do you want to die: warm in my bed, a good priest at my side, the Salve ringing in my ears ...
What do you want to be when you grow up: Sr. Mary Something O.P., O.C.D., O.S.B., or some such thing.
What country would you most like to visit: Italy. TUSCANY!!!!