Thursday, November 29, 2007

Who the hell am I?

It was never my intention to write about religion on this blog. I did my bit as a religion blogger years ago and found it ultimately unhelpful in my spiritual growth. So, I've contented myself in these later years with reading religion blogs, all the while remarking to myself how glad I was to get off that treadmill. Self congratulatory thoughts about how I'd risen above pointless Internet theological contretemps and argumentation without end were my bread and butter. I was better than that, I thought.

But as it is our common destiny to become that which we most loath, I now find myself blogging about religion. Which means that I owe you, my sad and lonely reader, some explanations.

I am Catholic, having swum the Monongahela in 2002 to enter into blessed union with the See of Pittsburgh. I spent nearly two years as a novice in a small monastery in the Mojave desert, along with a certain other blogger. After watching my vocation incinerate at 450 degrees in an industrial baking oven, I returned to the world with most of the wounds I brought to the monastery completely healed by the grace of God and the love of the monks, whom I will treasure as brothers for the rest of my life. The inevitable nicks and abrasions suffered in religious life are now distant memories and I ache for my lost vocation only occasionally, as if it were a phantom limb.

The Ochlophobist on factory wafers.

First, read this.

It is probably just as well that Owen shut down the comments... Arturo's stalker showed up which meant a future of nothing but non sequiturs and Dr. Dre references. But Owen made a final comment to me that I feel compelled to address. I reproduce his remarks below:

Sean,

"which is really a function of demographics, not theology"
- very well then, this phrase perfectly captures the ethos of big box praxis.

Eastern Rites do sometimes tend to join the bandwagon suggesting that the EOC is to small to be The Church, etc. One can be so small and be part of the Church, but not The Church, etc., following that general condescending attitude of RCs that Orthodox claims to be the One Church of Christ are quaint. A barking poodle, to use one (canonically) Eastern Catholic’s choice of terms.

"The Errors of the Latins and their Floor Waxes"

Here is the suggestion that the polemical target of this post, Mcwafers, is as arbitrary a target as what one finds in RC mop buckets. In suggesting as much, you unwittingly suggest that the origin and type of what is in the Cup (for Orthodox, in the hand or tongue for RCs) is not substantially more important that the origin and type of what is the mop bucket. This is exactly the inclination that a Mcwafer ecclesiological culture breeds. For if in that very thing that is most important to us we use something that is cheaply and inhumanly made (when we have and could use something else – and seeing the extraordinary works that Catholics routinely do on all number of fronts I refuse to believe that they could not handle making their own wafers on a parish level, though perhaps some difficulty in the effort might help sway what many conservative Catholics believe is an overly frequent Communion practice in AmChurch), is from an arbitrary or exchangeable source, as it were, is in its packaged form a product easily disposed of (which no one will miss because no one made it, certainly not the person who might throw it away on the parish level if its gets past the expiration date), and has been marketed by those who bask in their increased market share and market dominance, then, my friend, we have essentially affirmed that the whole cosmos is a mop bucket.

"very well then, this phrase perfectly captures the ethos of big box praxis."

I'm not sure what he means by this. I was simply suggesting that the fact that there are lots and lots and lots of Catholics in many of places and that it is often necessary to build bigger houses of worship to accommodate them all.

"...that general condescending attitude of RCs..."

This is truly rich. Catholics have, in general, a condescending attitude, says the man for whom, it sometimes seems, the Catholic Church can do no right, this bread obsession being only the latest example. Well, when you hate someone, the way they use their fork infuriates you. When you like someone, the way they lick their plate is charming.

"In suggesting as much, you unwittingly suggest that the origin and type of what is in the Cup (for Orthodox, in the hand or tongue for RCs) is not substantially more important that the origin and type of what is the mop bucket."

First of all, I don't believe it is possible to "unwittingly suggest" anything. Attempting to indicate a natural connection of ideas without plain expression would require far more wit than I posses and, were I even to attempt such a feat, I doubt I could do it unconsciously. I will leave aside the horrific insinuation that I actually believe that what is in the Cup is not more important than what is in the mop bucket, but I do dispute the notion that the way in which Catholic communion wafers are made somehow diminishes them.

Wheat does not plant itself or harvest itself, folks, even if it is no longer done by an army of serfs equiped with scythes but instead by a single farmer on a big John Deer rig (also made by humans). Somebody laid the tracks the carried the train to the grain elevator. Another fellow came up with the idea for whatever automation is at work in the bakery. No babies were sacrificed, no deals with the devil were made (though I'm sure Owen will insist otherwise).

"[I] refuse to believe that they could not handle making their own wafers on a parish level, though perhaps some difficulty in the effort might help sway what many conservative Catholics believe is an overly frequent Communion practice in AmChurch"

Owen insists that the level of production required to supply many large Catholic parishes with bread is available in the kitchen of the local rank and file. Well, if he says so, I guess. He goes on to suggest, wittingly I presume, that it might be all for the best if the last few communicants in line were turned away from the table. Nice.

What I was suggesting by my "Floor Wax" comment is that Owen seems determined to loathe the Catholic Church (here we may insert his standard comment about his many Catholic friends) and as far as he's concerned, "sucks to them". If the Red Sox were the official baseball team of the Vatican, he'd be a Yankee fan. If Catholics drink Coke, he'd be a Pepsi man. If Pope Benedict shouted "Great Taste!", he'd yell "Less Filling!". And no doubt he'd be full of incredibly well articulated justifications, all based in theology and orthopraxy, for each of these opinions.

For the record, let me say in advance that I am not suggesting anything else about baseball, soft drinks or Miller Lite.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Puppies

Puppies

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Yesterday and Today

Yesterday afternoon, I bugged out early and went to Spearfish to attend a recital at BHSU, given by some of Nancy's students. All were good, but there was a particularly beautiful setting of Psalm 23 by Dvorak that I really liked.

Afterwards, Nan and I drove back to Lead, in preparation for the concluding class of Basic Obedience. Brynn was doing really well until it was time to go off leash for recall training. She got distracted by a giant nerf football and we had to spend what seemed like hours trying to catch her. Tracy gave us some tips to deal with that situation that seem like they might help.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Weekend

A pretty quiet weekend in Lead. Friday night we enjoyed a Mystery Dinner at Enigma in Rapid City. The appetizer was one we'd had before and great favorite: fried brie with a crushed walnuts and raspberry reduction sauce. The pasta course was also pretty unbelievable: mushroom ravioli with crispy shitake mushrooms in a delicious broth. The main course was also quite good: some kind of crazy beef wrapped around asparagus with potatoes. Desert was the only disappointment: some kind of crepe with a slice of fried pineapple. 3 out of 4 ain't bad!

Saturday was spent vegging in front of the TV after a hike to Deadwood. Sunday was another lazy day, though we dragged ourselves and the dog up towards the Englewood trail head. We found the Bismark Mine and the Wasp Mine, two old gold mines that closed in the 20's. The mysterious Dr. Nero and I will probably make our way up there to go through the tailings.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

Game Night

Mike and I looked over Gunslinger and Republic of Rome... we didn't really have the time for either. Instead, we played Fantasy Flight's StarCraft - The Board Game. I was apprehensive, since a board game version of a popular video game didn't sound too promising. But it turned out to be kind of fun... plus, I won!

Mike and I planned on getting together November 28th. I think we'll try to make time for RoR... I'm going to see if I can come up with some .Net play aids to speed things along.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Tonight

Tonight I'm gaming with Mike in Wyoming... we are either playing Gunslinger, Republic of Rome or Tannhauser. All sound pretty good, though I confess I'd like to give Gunslinger a try. It will be interesting to see how Avalon Hill managed to remove all aspects of fun from this exciting concept.

I bummed out to hear that there would be no fake golf today, but apparently Steve had a pipe burst in house and won't be able to play.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Deadwood - Season 3

The wife and I finally finished Deadwood Season 3. Disappointment on all counts. First, what a bummer that this fantastic series got cut short. Second, the third season in general and the finale specifically were real let downs. With just a fraction of the intensity of the previous seasons, I wish they'd spent more time working with the characters they had than developing several of the pointless story lines that featured so prominently. I am speaking specifically of the theater troupe, although the saga of the livery and Aunt Lou's son were also a waste of time.

The season/series finale was also a bummer. Frankly, ending with a whimper would have been an improvement over the dull, soft thud of this ending. Why on earth did they think anyone cared one jot about Langrishe's whining that the opening night of their production might be delayed by the power struggle with Hearst?

Monday, November 5, 2007

The Book that Would Not End

Though I'm enjoying it thoroughly, I'm starting to wonder if I will ever finish Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. I read and read and read but the end never seems any closer.

Gold Fever

The mysterious Dr. Nero and I went prospecting this weekend, with some small success. Armed with an improved knowledge of both geology and panning techniques, we snorted around two spots in the Kirk valley, garnering several microscopic bits of gold dust. The areas we worked in had to be pretty picked over, due to their easy accessibility and proximity to the Homestake mine, but it was nice to find some "color" in our pans at the end of it all.