Thursday, February 23, 2023

Your Reminder…

...that NYT v. Sullivan ended the particularly Southern practice of politicians suing newspapers and journalists to keep stories about their racism and oppression of non-whites and poor whites out of the news.

It’s no accident the governor of Florida wants to overturn it. Old times there are not forgotten.
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Constitutional Rights And Wrongs

Or just plain stupidity. If you can’t get rid of mass shootings, make them a national symbol of pride.

🤷🏻‍♂️ 

Because “Congress shall make no law” clearly means we still have to privilege Christianity in the name of “tradition!” Hopefully they used the National Gun of ‘Merica!
According to WFTV-Channel 9, which also had journalists at the scene who were not injured, the shooter walked up to the News 13 vehicle van and opened fire," said the report. "'The man walked by our crew who was working in their car. Our crew ducked,' WFTV’s Nick Papantonis tweeted. 'The man then walked up to the other crew working in their car and opened fire.'"
Yeah, that trip to Ukraine was completely wasted. And a reminder MTG is not advocating treason; she’s “saving the very life of the Anglo-Saxon race.”
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Wednesday, February 22, 2023

“Decrease The Surplus Population”!

When you are a visionary/rabid Dickens fan, you are always without honor in your own legislature.
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Lawyers Do What They Do

I’m pretty sure it would be negligence if not malpractice (yes, it’s a thin line) not to try this. I’m also pretty sure it will fail.

I just don’t see how it ultimately compromises anything for the potential defendants. Mostly because this seems to be the state of affairs in Georgia:
And from everything I’ve heard/read, this jury member has avoided discussing deliberations, and hasn’t really said anything not in the redacted report. If Trump is right, his recourse is to seek a contempt hearing before the court. Of course the Georgia D.A. will do that if this undermines her investigation.

As long as she doesn’t, we can safely assume the state of Georgia law is as Ms. Bower says.
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What Did East Palestine Do To Deserve This?

Check the pictures below for any evidence of a “big show.” The bride at every wedding, the corpse at every funeral. Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem. In the end, he’s still a weasel.
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Ash Wednesday 2023


I didn't grow up in a liturgical tradition. In fact, my vague memory is that communion was an infrequent affair. I suspect, though my memory betrays me, that it was only celebrated in my Presbyterian church, in good Reformed tradition, once every three months or so. The "high holy days" I recall were Christmas Eve (ironically, now that I think of it), Maundy Thursday (of course; and appropriately), and maybe Easter Sunday (though I'm not sure about that). I think the other day was supposed to be Pentecost, but I don't recall hearing much about Pentecost, or Lent, or even the Easter season, in my youth in that church. Perhaps, as I say, my memory betrays me, because I have only the vaguest memory of Advent, either, and that usually started with "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" on the first Sunday after Thanksgiving (very American, in other words) and meant Christmas carols through Christmas Eve. So I never really learned anything about Ash Wednesday until I came across Eliot's poem. Which is why I always connect it with the day, even now.

I first received ashes in seminary, ironically. I think it's because the seminary was historically Evangelical (not in the sense that word is bandied about today), which meant Lutheran in practice, and besides, St. Louis is such a Roman Catholic city that the Baptists in St. Louis stand out because they don't have a smudge on their heads today. If the Catholics in my hometown (one of the few in East Texas with a Catholic church), or the Episcopalians, got ashes, I either never noticed, or they wiped it off quickly. Again, perhaps it's simply my faulty memory.

So I am still coming slowly to the practice and observance of Lent, and still doing it more through Eliot's words than through habit and custom. I have the former; I don't have the latter. And I will try, again, to keep Lent; and will probably do a poor job of it. I wrote some of  this over 15 years ago now.  I won't be going down to the altar to receive the ashes this year.  It's something I miss, now, every Ash Wednesday, because I am no longer a member of any congregation, any faith community.  That is enough reason to make my confession and take another stab at penitence, as I said I would do, originally, 15 years or more ago. It's a new year, and yet another beginning.  We'll see how I do this time.  For you, I cherish the admonition of the Evangelical tradition that ordained me, the words recited, ironically, at communion, and for reasons to do with the very idea of communion:  "May it be unto you according to your faith."

Amen; which is to say, "May it be so."

I

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again

Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And I pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do hot hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

(VI)

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.


--T.S. Eliot, "Ash Wednesday," The Complete Poems and Plays 1909-1950 (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1971), pp. 60-61, 67)


MEMENTO, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.
Remember, human, that you are dust, and to dust you will return
--Genesis 3:19

HEAR my prayer, O Lord;
let my cry come to you.
Do not hide your face from me
in the day of my distress.
Incline your ear to me;
answer me speedily in the day when I call.
My days pass away like smoke,
and my bones burn like a furnace.
My heart is stricken and withered like grass;
I am too wasted to eat my bread.
Because of my loud groaning
my bones cling to my skin.
I am like an owl of the wilderness,
like a little owl of the waste places.
I lie awake;
I am like a lonely bird on the housetop.
All day long my enemies taunt me;
those who deride me use my name for a curse.
For I eat ashes like bread,
and mingle tears with my drink,
because of your indignation and anger;
for you have lifted me up and thrown me aside.
My days are like an evening shadow;
I wither away like grass.
But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever;
your name endures to all generations.
You will rise up and have compassion on Zion,
for it is time to favor it;
the appointed time has come.
For your servants hold its stones dear,
and have pity on its dust.

--Psalm 102:1-14

I said in my heart with regard to human beings that God is testing them to show that they are but animals. For the fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and humans have no advantage over the animals; for all is vanity. All go to one place; all are from the dust, and all turn to dust again.

--Ecclesiastes 3:18-20

THE cross, with which the ashes are traced upon us, is the sign of Christ's victory over death. The words "Remember that thou art dust and that to dust thou shall return" are not to be taken as the quasi-form of a kind of "sacrament of death" (as if such a thing were possible). It might be good stoicism to receive a mere reminder of our condemnation to die, but it is not Christianity.

--Thomas Merton, Seasons of Celebration, Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1965

ASHES, ashes, all fall down. How could I have forgotten? Didn't I see the heavens wiped shut just yesterday, on the road walking? Didn't I fall from the dark of the stars to these senselit and noisome days? The great ridged granite millstone of time is illusion, for only the good is real; the great ridged granite millstone of space is illusion, for God is spirit and worlds his flimsiest dreams: but the illusions are almost perfect, are apparently perfect for generations on end, and the pain is also, and undeniably, real. The pain within the mill-stones' pitiless turning is real, for our love for each other-for the world and all the products of extension-is real, vaulting, insofar as it is love, beyond the plane of the stones' sickening churn and arcing to the realm of spirit bare. And you can get caught holding one end of a love, when your father drops, and your mother; when a land is lost, or a time, and your friend blotted out, gone, your brother's body spoiled, and cold, your infant dead, and you dying: you reel out love's long line alone, stripped like a live wire loosing its sparks to a cloud, like a live wire loosed in space to longing and grief everlasting.

--Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm, HarperCollins, 1977.

IN some monastic communities, monks go up to receive the ashes barefoot. Going barefoot is a joyous thing. It is good to feel the floor or the earth under your feet. It is good when the whole church is silent, filled with the hush of people walking without shoes. One wonders why we wear such things as shoes anyway. Prayer is so much more meaningful without them. It would be good to take them off in church all the time. But perhaps this might appear quixotic to those who have forgotten such very elementary satisfactions. Someone might catch cold at the mere thought of it.

--Thomas Merton, Seasons of Celebration
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Ash Wednesday 2023

You can't conceive, my child, nor I nor anyone, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.--Graham Greene

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
2:1 Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the LORD is coming, it is near-

2:2 a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness! Like blackness spread upon the mountains a great and powerful army comes; their like has never been from of old, nor will be again after them in ages to come.

2:12 Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;

2:13 rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the LORD, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.

2:14 Who knows whether he will not turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind him, a grain offering and a drink offering for the LORD, your God?

2:15 Blow the trumpet in Zion; sanctify a fast; call a solemn assembly;

2:16 gather the people. Sanctify the congregation; assemble the aged; gather the children, even infants at the breast. Let the bridegroom leave his room, and the bride her canopy.

2:17 Between the vestibule and the altar let the priests, the ministers of the LORD, weep. Let them say, "Spare your people, O LORD, and do not make your heritage a mockery, a byword among the nations. Why should it be said among the peoples, 'Where is their God?'"

Isaiah 58:1-12
58:1 Shout out, do not hold back! Lift up your voice like a trumpet! Announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins.

58:2 Yet day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness and did not forsake the ordinance of their God; they ask of me righteous judgments, they delight to draw near to God.

58:3 "Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?" Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers.

58:4 Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high.

58:5 Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush, and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD?

58:6 Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?

58:7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

58:8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.

58:9 Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,

58:10 if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.

58:11 The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.

58:12 Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.

Psalm 51:1-17

1:1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.

1:2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.

1:3 For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.

1:4 Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment.

1:5 Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.

1:6 You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.

1:7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

1:8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.

1:9 Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities.

1:10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.

1:11 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me.

1:12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.

1:13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.

1:14 Deliver me from bloodshed, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance.

1:15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.

1:16 For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.

1:17 The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

5:20b We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.

5:21 For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

6:1 As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain.

6:2 For he says, "At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you." See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!

6:3 We are putting no obstacle in anyone's way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry,

6:4 but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities,

6:5 beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger;

6:6 by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love,

6:7 truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left;

6:8 in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true;

6:9 as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see--we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed;

6:10 as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

6:1 "Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.

6:2 "So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

6:3 But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing,

6:4 so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

6:5 "And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

6:6 But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

6:16 "And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

6:17 But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face,

6:18 so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

6:19 "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal;

6:20 but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.

6:21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

All the triumphant Christianity should die right here. It should crumple against these words like a speeding car against a brick wall. If it sees itself as an unstoppable force, this is the immovable object it impacts, and who wins? And all the obsequious, timid, too scared to speak itself to anyone Christianity, should accept the mark of ash with pride, and get off its knees, and stand up and blow the trumpet in Zion, and sound the alarm on God's holy mountain, and remember the Lord is gracious and merciful and slow to anger and full of steadfast love, should remember that even humility can be selfishness, that too much contrition can make must as much a stone of the heart as too much triumph. No, this is not a day for humiliation, nor for victory. This is a day for restoring the balance. This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it, and accept our ashes as the turn from Epiphany to responsibility. We must accept them graciously. By the end, we will have too much responsibility to bear. This is not a day for weeping, This is a day the Lord has made. This is a day to begin, again.

Someone challenged me, once, when I had used the 51st Psalm in worship. They challenged me about verse 15: "Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me." They wondered if that meant an infant was born in sin, born damned, corrupted, doomed from birth to hell. I didn't give a very good answer then. I can give a better one now. We have made sin the essential postulate of salvation, and so over centuries have put such a burden on the word as to make it a concept we dare not mention. "Sin" is ultimate condemnation. But it isn't. Sin is error; sin is doing what does not promote life. Sin is mistake and misdirection. If I am a sinner from my mother's womb, it is not because I participate in sin by the act of procreation, nor that sin is passed to me as my blue eyes and brown hair were from my parents. If I am born into sin, it is because I am prone to error, born in a condition in which mistakes will be made, created in a world in which I need direction, but am unlikely to take it. That's why I need to be purged with hyssop and washed clean, so my light will break forth, so the goodness that God gives will glow on the paths of all those who know me, all those who see me. I need to come and confess and be made clean, so I can be made whole. And I need to do this in the presence of the blessed community, in the public act of worship. I need to share this.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

This is the fast God chooses; the fast that means I am sharing with my brother and sister, not hoarding while I pride myself on my self-restraint, on my ability to know what it is to go hungry when my pantry is full, to be thirsty when I have more cups than I can drink from in a day, more plates than I can use in a week, so much food I will throw some out if I don't stuff myself with it now. That is why I need guidance, direction, to be washed clean by God: so I will see and know my sister and my brother and share my food with them, bring Carnival to my soul by sharing panem and carnem with those who have neither. Farewell to me, but hello to them. This is the feast the Lord desires.

Humility that is aimed at me is not what God desires. Humility that is aimed at hospitality, at opening my home to the stranger, at making what is mine available to someone else in need, that is the wisdom of God. "You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart." That is the wisdom God would teach to my secret heart, if I will only open it, if I will only humble it and listen.

What reward then, should I look for? Feasting and drinking and celebration are their own reward, but the works of humility are done in secret, so that God and not humankind will reward me. But what reward will that be? In the hereafter, in the sweet bye and bye, in the kingdom yet to come? Perhaps. Seems a long time to wait, and the rewards here are so plentiful and so easily taken. But what greater reward is there than kindness and openness and hospitality? If we have to account for every good thing we might have enjoyed and did not, what reward will we have for that? Pleasures are neither sins nor selfish, but selfish pleasures are sins indeed. Can I be washed of my sins and still enjoy my pleasures? Can I be led by God and still be free?

We are putting no obstacle in anyone's way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry,

but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities,

beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger;

by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love,

truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left;

in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true;

as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see--we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed;

as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

But this everything is clearly "a condition of complete simplicity,/ costing not less than everything." That is quite a price to pay. Surely Ash Wednesday is about the price to pay, too. Surely that is the obstacle in the way. Surely there is no such thing as a free lunch!

Of course, there is not. But think of the price you are paying now, the interest accumulating on the debt you owe each other that can never be paid in full, the endless rounds of gift and exchange that can never be ended except by a violent irruption into the cycle! And how do you ever do that?! Without a complete interruption, without festival and celebration leading to humility and penitence, what hope is there?

Who is this who has said:
The house of God is a House of Sorrow,
We must walk in black and go sadly, with longdrawn faces,
We must go between empty walls, quavering lowly, whispering faintly,
Among a few flickering scattered lights?
They would put upon GOD their own sorrow, the grief they should feel
For their sins and faults as they go about their daily occasions.
Yet they walk in the street proudnecked, like thoroughbreds ready for races,
Adorning themselves, and busy in the market, the forum,
And all other secular meetings.
Thinking good of themselves, ready for any festivity,
Doing themselves very well.
Let us mourn in a private chamber, learning the way of pentitence,
And then let us learn the joyful communion of saints.--T.S. Eliot

Mourning we can do in private; indeed, when we mourn for ourselves, we have been instructed to keep it a secret. But the communion of saints can only be shared, can only be public. We cannot commune privately, individually, in our closed rooms. And we cannot learn from the saints by cutting ourselves off from the sinners, from the others as miserable and joyful, as misery-making and inspiring, as we are. Even Ash Wednesday is a day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it, and the pleasures it offers.

Rune before prayer (from Carmina Gadelica)

I am bending my knee
In the eye of the Father who created me,
In the eye of the Son who purchased me,
In the eye of the Spirit who cleansed me,
In friendship and affection.

Through Thine own and Anointed One, O God,
Bestow upon us fullness in our need,
Love towards God,
The affection of God,
The smile of God,
The wisdom of God,
The grace of God,
The fear of God,
And the will of God.

To do on the world of the Three,
As angels and saints
Do in heaven;
Each shade and light
Each day and night,
Each time in kindness,
Give Thou us Thy Spirit.

Amen.
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Revisiting For No Reason

Or maybe I do have one: D’ya think not?




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Ash Wednesday 2023

Ash Wednesday by T. S. Eliot

I
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power

Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is
nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessèd face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

II 

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been
contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.
Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each
other,

Under a tree in the cool of day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.


III 

At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jaggèd, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond
repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an agèd shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind
over the third stair, 
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only. 

IV 

Who walked between the violet and the violet
Whe walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary's colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary's colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke
no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew

And after this our exile


V 

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny
the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season,
time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people.

VI 

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit
of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee. 
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Tuesday, February 21, 2023

The Way Of The World 🌎

That’s not all they suck at. At least they have plenty of cannon fodder. The offensive Russia mounted against Ukraine is floundering, despite Russia having a much larger population (which they are quite willing to throw at a war). Ukraine isn’t worried about the offensive; just about running out of ammunition and weapons. Which is equal parts horrifying and hopeful.

Ain’t that the way of the world?

Oh, and about traveling to Ohio and the way of the world:
You’ll notice the junior Senator from Ohio is not listed there. You’ll also notice Biden wasn’t done: Whatever could he mean? D’ya miss Trump yet? Neither do I. How can we when he won’t go away? I’m pretty sure we settled that question in the era of the telegraph. Purely coincidental, I’m sure.
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Working Class Authenenticity

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Matt Taibbi Is The Real Victim Here

"Valid or otherwise." But how do you know the point is valid, if you don't also know otherwise? That's not even a question of journalism; that's just basic reasoning. Must confess I'm not sure how no. 4 works, or how it exonerates journalists from not simply being stenographers or microphones; but no. 5 is dead on (and, IMHO, eviscerates no. 4, as well as Taibbi). As I said: Taibbi is the real victim here. Just ask him, he'll tell you.
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Shrove Tuesday 2023


THERE is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink and find enjoyment, for these are from the hand of God.--Ecclesiastes 2:24

CARNIVAL celebrates the unity of our human race as mortal creatures, who come into this world and depart from it without our consent, who must eat, drink, defecate, belch, and break wind in order to live, and procreate if our species is to survive. Our feelings about this are ambiguous. To us as individuals, it is a cause for rejoicing that we are not alone, that all of us, irrespective of age or sex or rank or talent, are in the same boat.--W.H. Auden

IN Europe some of the most famous celebrations of the three days before Ash Wednesday occur at Nice in France (La Bataille des FIeurs), Binche in Belgium (where there is a rewarding museum on the worldwide cult of Carnival), and Cologne and Munich in Germany. In all these spectacular events, the mask plays a prominent part, symbolizing as it always does the opportunity for licence, buffoonery, ribald jokes and a general relaxation of inhibitions.

From ancient times the importance of Carnival in Venice, which lasted for almost two months from Christmas until Ash Wednesday, was really based on the tacit participation and consent of the rulers of the city. Political despotism was suspended, and a mask could provide a protective cover for all types of games, adulteries, love affairs and conspiracies under the guise of popular merrymaking.

One of the most remarkable of all European carnivals-the Fasnacht of Basle in Switzerland-is however celebrated after Lent has begun. In the sixteenth century the church banned all masking, and the fiercely independent Baslers were so furious that they decided to double their sins and celebrate Carnival on the Monday after Ash Wednesday.--Lionel Lambourne

COME, therefore, let us enjoy the good things that exist, and make use of the creation to the full as in youth.
Let us take our fill of costly wine and perfumes,
and let no flower of spring pass us by.
Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither. Let none of us fail to share in our revelry;
because this is our portion, and this our lot.--Wisdom 2:6-9

We shall have mead
We shall have wine
We shall have feast
We shall have sweetness and milk
Honey and milk,
Wholesome ambrosia,
Abundance of that,
Abundance of that.

We shall have harp,
We shall have lute,
We shall have horn.
We shall have sweet psaltery
Of the melodious strings
And the regal lyre,
Of the songs we shall have,
Of the songs we shall have.

And the King of kings,
And Jesus Christ,
And the Spirit of peace
And of grace be with us
Of grace be with us.--Celtic blessing on Ash Eve

My memories of a childhood spent among the Presbyterians, raised by a former Primitive Baptist and former Methodist who compromised on Presbyterianism, are that "Lent" was barely known.  I knew Ash Wednesday from Eliot's poem, but that was in high school, and it was still exotic to me until seminary.  It was an old E&R seminary in a dominantly Catholic town (they weren't the St. Louis Cardinals because people loved redbirds in Missouri).  Ashes were as socially acceptable as revivals had been in my childhood East Texas hometown.  Ashes were also consistent with old E&R practice, which was still more Lutheran than Reformed.

But in my childhood church there was always a "Pancake Supper" on the Tuesday before Lent started.  I say "Lent" and "started" though I don't remember Lent actually being observed, except for Holy Week.  All I really remember is pancakes for supper!  Cool!  I think, too, we called it "Shrove Tuesday," though we really didn't know why at all. Still, dangerously ecumenical as it may sound, in the words of the old E&R order of worship, "Let it be unto you according to your faith." And this year, try some spices in your pancakes (I particularly recommend cinnamon and/or nutmeg) for, as one website observed, "a little decadence." I have a recipe for gingerbread pancakes from a restaurant I loved in Austin.  I ate them the morning my daughter was born, so they have a special meaning now.  It'll be that or buttermilk waffles.  Lent is coming, after all....
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"Say It Ain't So, Joe!"

In a war beset country that needs a morale boost and a renewed sense of what they are fighting for, Biden delivers a "rally" speech?!

They are really struggling to find something to criticize, aren't they?  Or judging by the comments from Republicans that absolutely parrot Russian media talking points, maybe it's the truth that's upsetting them:
Yup:
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I'm Not Through With Peter Doocy

Cheering crowds. Children. Flag waving. Very inappropriate behavior. Most unseemly, eh, Peter?
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Only Nixon Could Go To Communist China

Only a Southern Baptist could fix America's beer. And no, I'm not kidding.
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🃏

This goes on forever; I'm not going to. But let's start with letting states "completely control things like education." She might want to talk to her party's frontrunner for the Presidential nomination:

"We will end the leftist takeover of school discipline and juvenile justice," Trump says in a five-minute pre-recorded campaign video released Monday....

"Many of these carjackers and criminals are 13, 14, and 15 years-old. I will order the Education and Justice Departments to overhaul federal standards on disciplining minors," he added. "So when troubled youth are out of control, they're out on the streets and they're going wild, we will stop it. The consequences are swift, certain and strong and they will know that."

We're back 40 years ago to "wilding" and the Central Park crime that falsely arrested innocent children and charged them as heinous monsters.  What could go wrong?

"I will not hesitate to send in federal assets including the National Guard until safety is restored," Trump says.

Which is a sure way to shrink the federal government, n'est pas?  Well, in Greene's vision it would be, because she would eliminate the very department Trump is going to use as a national police force (let's overlook the fact DOE has no law-enforcement authority at all, shall we? Trump's ignorance of what government does and how it does it is matched only by Greene's):

Apparently this "divorce" would eliminate the Constitution, too? 🤷🏻‍♂️ Details, details....  Wait, no, it can't.  The federal government has to provide for the common defense (see below) and Congress has to continue to regulate interestate commerce.  Well, more or less; and only along lines MTG approves of, because this is not fascism, it's a democracy.  But a democracy of one.

Ein volk, ein reich, ein...atmosphere and water system?  So, in a divorce, who gets the rivers that run from Minnesota to Louisiana?  Or New Mexico to Texas, for that matter?  You get the idea.  And are we now imagining that atmosphere stops at the political boundaries?  Or basic nuisance laws reasoning that determine how your use of your land affects my use next door, won't apply to state boundaries and environmental laws?  Because that's too...woke, even though the legal principle goes back to the English common law?
So interstate trade, travel, and boundaries continue...how, again? On an ad hoc basis? As the states decide? Or even federal districts? Is this where we point out that Georgia is a purple state, if not blue by now? And that Greene's opinions don't reflect the opinions of the majority of the citizens of Georgia?

"I highly doubt Walmart could place sex toys next to children’s toothbrushes."  Are they doing that now?  I'll admit I don't shop at Walmart, but even my local grocery store doesn't sell "sex toys" next to the toothbrushes.  I don't think they even sell sex toys at all.
  I.e., police could jail blacks and browns without consequence, but white people rioting in D.C. are de facto innocent and can never be proven guilty. I also love that the DOD "would have to remain." Not sure under what Constitutional principle that's true, or why it would "have to" at all, since we're shredding so many Constitutional provisions to give MTG her own private Idaho, but...okay.

Oddly, no word on what happens to Medicare and Social Security....

This is where I give up.  This kind of crap would embarass a 5th grader.  Holy crap, but this woman is stupid.  I mean, you know it's bad when this makes more sense:
"But I digest...."
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Your Daily Reminder....

...that Tailgunner Joe only left the Senate feet first. He died midway through his second term, though is popularity waned after the Army-McCarthy hearings and subsequent censure by the Senate.  Even the Senate didn't try to oust him.

Scandal is not the powerful tool popular fiction tells you it is.  Nixon only resigned because it was clear he was going to be the first President to be impeached AND removed from office.  Trump was impeached twice, and is running for a second term a second time.  Which would make him the first President to be a lame-duck the moment he was elected (not re-elected), in U.S. history.

The FoxNews story isn't a bigger story because it's about employees of a news organization.  Where was the breathless coverage of Jeff Gerth or Judith Miller?  Gene Lyons got two books out of Whitewater, but he remained a reporter from Arkansas, not a journalist for the NYT.  The MSM doesn't cover stories about other news company's employees, except to note when Bill O'Reilly is forced out, or Loud Obbs is removed from his platform.  And even then it's mostly the immediate event that gets any attention. I can think of a number of talking heads on CNN who've left under ignominious circumstances, but no one talked about it much, or for long.

It's the nature of the industry, not the nature of the scandal or the FoxNews audience.
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“Beware False Prophets!”

I have no love for Joel Osteen, but there isn’t a word of this that is even close to being true. Indeed, the thread reads like one on my local NextDoor: a farrago of ignorance.  No. Lakewood bought the Compaq Center 20 years ago. And no, Osteen doesn't pay himself $54 million a year out of the church. The church doesn’t generate nearly that kind of money.

I do like the “I heard” portion of that. If Osteen spent that much, he grossly overspent. The construction cost of the building in 2021 dollars is $165 million. And pastors pay income tax on their income. The idea they don’t, or only do when they “go to other churches” (which are not obligated to pay; it’s an honorarium of usually a minimal amount), is just farcical. (And when does Osteen preach in other churches?) So is this:
This is purely ignorant drivel. This is the ignorance of a man who has no clue how the tax system works, but imagines it screws only him and leaves everybody else alone.  That's a form of narcicissm:  everybody gets away with it but me!

Even Snopes says Osteen's net worth is estimated at between $40 million and $100 million, and most of his income is from book sales (as Osteen himself says) (that bit above about the garage full of exotic cars is bullshit, too). At $54 million a year, his net worth by now would be closer to Elon Musk's. And it isn't; not nearly.

Osteen is a businessman, and his business is selling a very weak form of Christianity that mostly sells self-satisfaction.  Lakewood is the extreme example of the Church of Meaning and Belonging.  There is no sacrifice involved at all, just the satisfaction that God wants you to get rich.  To be fair, I don't know too many Christian denominations or preachers who preach "Damn you, rich!  You already have your consolation!"  But even those churches are more known for their charity than Osteen's church.  Lakewood is not known as a paragon of charity, let me put it that way.

I had one random and all but chance encounter with his church when I was in active ministry and his church was near a public housing unit the local UCC churches own and operate here in Houston.  Mr. Osteen's church, under his father, had been regular donors of turkeys at Thanksgiving (or was it Christmas?) to the residents of the units.  Sometime after Mr. Osteen took over for his deceased father the church decided the residents should drive to the church to get the turkeys, rather than await delivery.  This most couldn't do, as they didn't have cars or were working when the church was willing to hand out the birds; so the local UCC churches had to take up the slack.  It wasn't long after that Mr. Osteen moved operations to downtown Houston, and all hope of turkey charity from Mr. Osteen's congregation for the residents of the housing unit stopped together, as the poet put it.

If you want to know what I think of him, my opinions have been expressed freely around here, though not recently; but those opinions haven't really changed.  This kind of claptrap, however, especially when its repeated credulously by people who should be more skeptical of such outlandish claims, is just annoying.  Especially when it's used to claim all churches are money pits who collect coin without paying any taxes, and revel in their wealth because of their status as charities.  What can I say?  That kind of stupid just annoys the shit out of me.
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And Because None Dare Call It Racism?

Or is it too gauche to point that out? No, I’m serious: I mean, we can’t say all those people are being racists because…rude!…and …how offensive!…, so…

Never state the obvious; it leaves too many wannabe emperors naked.
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