Thursday, February 24, 2005

Chesterton Quote of the Day

It is constantly assumed, especially in our Tolstoian tendencies, that when the lion lies down with the lamb the lion becomes lamb-like. But that is brutal annexation and imperialism on the part of the lamb. That is simply the lamb absorbing the lion instead of the lion eating the lamb. The real problem is -- Can the lion lie down with the lamb and still retain his royal ferocity? That is the problem the Church attempted; that is the miracle she achieved. (Orthodoxy)

Via Chesterton Day By Day.
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Friday, February 18, 2005

A Personal Confession

You probably thought I was joking about the connection between bells, mind control, and the Catholic Church. But the secret is finally out.
The methods are as simple as they are old:

The baptism:
A baby gets water poured over its head. Shocked by the cold water, separated from its mother by the godmother and exposed to an unfamiliar environment, the baby experiences a feeling of helplessness. In the baby's mind, this feeling becomes inseparably connected to the sound of the ringing bells, forming a psychological image. This image finally settles inside the subconscious thinking.

The bell tower: Later in life:
Each time a bell is sounded, this same feeling of uneasiness and being at someone's mercy and the helplessness encountered during the baptism becomes re-activated in the subconscious (depending on the individual's sensitivity). The countless bells ringing from every church tower - 24 hours a day - have for many centuries guaranteed a life-long, subconscious helplessness of the baptized against the sinister machinations of Catholicism.

http://members.aon.at/h.badhofer/bell.htm
Needless to say, I will be submitting my resignation as a Thompson Chapel bell ringer immediately. No longer shall I tintinnabulate my sinister Catholic machinations over the Williams campus, indoctrinating the innocent minds of unsuspecting college students and instilling the baptized with subconscious fear and helplessness. Check out the linked pages at the bottom, The war of cultures and the sinister I shall preserve life or bring death! for more zany anti-Catholicism.
When you extract life from NOTHINGNESS, the dead remains!
And Chesterton is once again vindicated, to wit, that when a man ceases to believe in God, he will believe not in nothing but in anything.
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Monday, February 14, 2005

Femina Contra Mundum

The sun was black with judgment, and the moon
Blood: but between
I saw a man stand, saying: 'To me at least
The grass is green.

'There was no star that I forgot to fear
With love and wonder.
The birds have loved me'; but no answer came --
Only the thunder.

. . . . . . . .

Once more the man stood, saying: 'A cottage door,
Wherethrough I gazed
That instant as I turned -- yea, I am vile;
Yet my eyes blazed.

'For I had weighed the mountains in a balance,
And the skies in a scale,
I come to sell the stars -- old lamps for new --
Old stars for sale.'

Then a calm voice fell all the thunder through,
A tone less rough:
'Thou hast begun to love one of my works
Almost enough.'


G.K. Chesterton, Femina Contra Mundum
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Friday, February 11, 2005

February 11- Our Lady of Lourdes

I have many fond and wonderful memories of my two trips to Lourdes in the summers of 2001 and 2002 with the Ampleforth Hospitalite from England. They range from the sacred- working with the malades in the hospitals and conveying them to and from the shrine in wheelchairs and voitures, attending Mass in the Underground Basilica, making a retreat in the village of Bartres- to the profane (har har); exploring the streets at night, watching the fireworks on Bastille Day, singing "Danny Boy" at the Ward party, eating the best country-style omelet of my life in the Cafe Eden at two in the morning, where they charged you for catsup by the packet. Perhaps my favorite memory is the torchlight procession, winding from the grotto into and around the main square in front of the basilica as the Rosary is recited. At the end, all join in the Salve Regina, and exchange the sign of peace. "Peace be with you" said someone to me in a language I didn't recognize. "Et cum spiritu tuo" I responded. "Oh, you're American!" said he, to my surprise. (Was it the accent?) The other essential element of any pilgrimage to Lourdes (at least in my opinion) is the "Grot Trot", a midnight visit to the grotto. The grotto can of course be visited at any time, but late-night visits are the most conducive to quiet reflection.

Working in the hospital I found difficult and exhausting at first, persevering merely because I had to. It was not until the first several days had passed that I began to see into the real significance of Lourdes, not by looking past the work, but through it. During a brief retreat in the nearby village of Bartres, we discussed how we could apply the lessons of Lourdes in our everyday lives. "Is there something in Lourdes which cannot be found anywhere else?" someone asked. I suggested that perhaps it was not a question of something found only at Lourdes, but that in Lourdes the value of service and the virtue of charity were somehow more focused and easily recognized. The challenge was to follow the call when it was less clear, obscured by the confusion of the outside world. From that point, although the work was no less exhausting, it was easier to understand and to recognize its value; to recognize gratitude in the faces of the malades simply for a kind word or a thoughtful gesture, and to recognize in turn that I was learning and benefiting from them and through my service to them.

Our Lady of Lourdes, ora pro nobis.
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Wednesday, February 09, 2005

memento homo quia pulvis es

"What of vile dust?" the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.

"You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space."

Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently."

Rich white and blood-red blossom;
stones, Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust."

Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree--I know it well--
Under a lattice ledge,

"The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day

"When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more."

G.K. Chesterton, "The Praise of Dust"
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Sunday, February 06, 2005

Star Light, Star Bright

A chance encounter over breakfast Saturday morning precipitated an evening stargazing trip to Petersburg Pass with Jono, Devin, and Daniel. For stargazing purposes, it's hard to beat the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere. Barring the hazy glow in the valleys to either side and the occasional passing car, the stars had the place all to themselves. To the north was the Big Dipper balancing precariously on its handle above its lesser counterpart; to the south was Orion, the original comic book superhero with his broad shoulers, narrow waist, and tiny head. Saturn and Jupiter were in attendance, the former overhead, the latter rising above the eastern horizon to the left of the twin star Al-Ghrei'loq. Sirius was twinkling madly to the south, as was Arcturus in the northeast- the latter so colorfully I first took it for an airplane.

For the full effect of being suspended in the cosmos, don't look up at the stars- try looking down at them. It's all very well and good to stand comfortably on the nice solid earth and contemplate the heavens, but try hanging precariously by your two feet and looking down at the stars floating in an infinite abyss. It will inspire profound thoughts, and possibly profound vertigo. It's also much closer to the truth. Of all Chesterton's paradoxical and wonderful insights, this is one of my favorites:
“We were talking about St. Peter,” he said, “you remember he was crucified upside down. I’ve often fancied his humility was rewarded by seeing in death the beautiful vision of his boyhood. He also saw the landscape as it really is: with the stars like flowers, and the clouds like hills, and all men hanging on the mercy of God." (The Poet and the Lunatic)
If you think about it, the force of gravity is really a wonderful metaphor for Divine Providence. It's a mysterious, invisible force that no one really understands that keeps us from falling off the face of the earth at any given moment. We don't really stop to think about it any more than we ever stop to think about the fact that we are being held in existence at every moment by nothing more than the love of God. A bit humbling, really- what have I done today to justify my existence being sustained for another 86,400 seconds? Not much... besides, um, updating this 'blog. Does that count?

Anyway, we stood out there for about an hour, pondering the vast array of Greek constellations with their Latin names and their Arabic stars, pondering the vastness of the cosmos and talking about whatever tangential topics popped into our heads. You know, when I was a little kid I used to read about astronomy, but I didn't really have a good idea of relative timespans. I used to worry a lot about the sun running out of hydrogen gas and consuming some of the inner planets, not to mention the inevitable collision of the Milky Way with the Andromeda Galaxy- both scheduled to happen about five billion years from now. I mean, sure that sounds like a long time from now- but you know humanity is gonna wait 'till like the night before and then start freaking out. I mean, what are we gonna do? And then somebody's mom is gonna be like, "How long have you known about this assignment?" and everyone's gonna be like, "um... five billion years..." And don't even get me started on black holes. I mean, what are we gonna do if one of those shows up and starts eating everything?

Of course, we'll be lucky if we make it that long. It was just five years ago or so- my 16th birthday in fact, May 5 2000, that some alarmists were predicting that the alignment of the planets would cause a net gravitational disturbance that would mess up the earth's axis, shifting the poles around and generally playing havoc with just about everything- you know, the ice caps melting and flooding everything, that sort of thing. The ancient Egyptians knew this, of course, which is why they left us all those secret messages in the Great Pyramids- and you can bet the Freemasons and the Knights Templar knew about this for a long time but didn't bother to tell anyone else. Some guy published a book- 5/5/2000 (Ice: the Ultimate Disaster) which of course I bought, after the fact. Seems he had some crazy plan for airlifting everybody for a month- well, i wouldn't call it a plan exactly- he had a list of objectives like:
a) develop a suitable airship design
b) develop a suitable propulsion system
c) develop a suitable system for recycling food and water
Way to state the obvious, buddy. It's a good thing those ancient Egyptians were just playing a practical joke on us, because if they had been serious, there wouldn't even be anyone around for you to say "I told you so" to. Not that you would be around either, unless you figured out some airship designs in a hurry.

I forgot to mention that I saw National Treasure on Saturday night which is what got me into this whole Egyptian/Masonic conspiracy mindset in the first place. The premise of this movie, for those who haven't seen it, is that the Founding Fathers- Freemasons to a man, of course- smuggled the treasure of King Solomon (previously in the custody of the Knights Templar) to America and hid it from the British, conveniently leaving a trail of clues including a secret message on the back of the Declaration of Independence for future treasure hunters to find. It was actually quite entertaining- an excellent film to watch with an audience who doesn't mind you keeping up a running commentary of sarcastic but appreciative remarks.

On that note I'll wrap up this entry with a preview of what is to come. What do bells, mind control, and the Catholic Church have in common? Tune in later for a personal confession.
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Wednesday, February 02, 2005

My Civic Obligation

An Open Letter to the Jury Commissioner of Massachusetts

Dear Sir or Madam:

What a pleasant surprise to receive a summons in the mail today from your office. While it would give me great pride to serve my country as a trial juror on April 14, 2005 at the Pittsfield Superior Courthouse, I regret to inform you that I have already served nine (9) days of Jury Duty at that venerable institution within the past year. In fact, it was such a profound and enriching experience that it was almost worth the first seven (7) days of fall semester classes which I missed in order to fulfill this valuable civic obligation. Unfortunately, this previous service disqualifies me from future Jury Duty for a period of three (3) years. Please feel free to contact me then if I am still residing in Massachusetts at that time and have not changed my name and address. Speaking of which, please endeavor to spell my surname correctly in the future. The proper spelling is McDonough. McDongough is not only incorrect but linguistically absurd, and I have already corrected you twice (2wice) on this matter. The Gaelic Mac Donnchadha is the only alternative spelling which I will accept. In addition, my address is not, nor has it ever been, "101 Lynde Lane". Although I do indeed reside adjacent to this humble thoroughfare, my address, like that of all Williams students, is "Baxter Hall". Despite the fact that the aforementioned building was recently demolished, I cannot possibly imagine where you got this "Lynde Lane" nonsense. Is it possible that I received a summons meant for someone else? A certain fellow hight "McDongough" residing at 101 Lynde? Barring this unlikely possiblility, I can only conclude that you have ignored my previous attempts to correct my name and address. In that case, Sir or Madam, I can only beg you to reconsider. The United States Postal Service should not have to deal with these shenanigans. If left unchecked, I fear your cruel whims will surely cripple our postal system and bring our once-proud nation to her knees. But I have said enough. I trust you will find it in your heart to do what is right for freedom and democracy.

Sincerely,
Joseph McDonough
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