News flash
Kasia August 29th, 2007
Countercultural movements attract people who don’t like rules and structure. Unless, of course, they made up the rules and the structure. In that case, they really like them.
Archive for August, 2007
Moof? Weow?
Kasia August 28th, 2007
You Are: 60% Dog, 40% Cat |
 You are a nice blend of cat and dog. You’re playful but not too needy. And you’re friendly but careful. And while you have your moody moments, you’re too happy to stay upset for long. |
Curtsy to Sara…
Are they nuts?!
Kasia August 24th, 2007
A reporter from a major television news outlet was just asking our monsignor for a comment on the new book of Mother Teresa’s letters that’s coming out. He asked me if I knew anything about it – I had seen a few articles, yes – and asked if I wanted to comment.
Do I want to comment? On what? On the reports I have read about the book? I sure can’t comment on the book itself, ’cause I haven’t read it. It isn’t even out yet. Give me a break! Of what value would any comment I gave be, anyway?
“A random secretary at the diocese who has not even had her 90-day review yet said that she thinks that I was silly to ask her for comment about something she can’t have read yet, and privately opined that it’s akin to inbreeding to have people continuously commenting in the media on the news stories that they read. She then directed me to the diocesan communications office, since it’s their job to decide whether something merits comment on behalf of the diocese. Finally, she typed a post on her blog about the experience, adding that the only comment she has so far is that Christopher Hitchens is, as usual, being an obnoxious blowhard.”
One word, no explanations
Kasia August 24th, 2007
1. Yourself: idiosyncratic
2. Your spouse: pending
3. Your hair: long
4. Your mother: well-intentioned
5. Your father: smart
6. Your favorite item:
7. Your dream last night: forgotten
8. Your favorite drink: pop
9. Your dream car: newer
10. The room you are in: office
11. Your ex: which?
12. Your fear: failure
13. What you want to be in 10 years: faithful
14. Who you hung out with last night: myself
15. What you’re not: disappointed
16. Muffins: yummy
17: One of your wish list items: furnace
18: Time: flying
19. The last thing you did: ate
20. What you are wearing: suit
21. Your favorite weather: mild
22. Your favorite book: many
23. The last thing you ate: lunch
24. Your life: God’s
25. Your mood: noncommittal
26. Your best friend: several
27. What you’re thinking about right now: meme
28. Your car: runs
29. What you are doing at the moment: blogging
30. Your summer: hot
31. Your relationship status: committed
32. What is on your TV: TV?
33. What is the weather like: sunny
34. When was the last time you laughed: today
Curtsy to Fr. Erik.
2. Your spouse: pending
3. Your hair: long
4. Your mother: well-intentioned
5. Your father: smart
6. Your favorite item:
7. Your dream last night: forgotten
8. Your favorite drink: pop
9. Your dream car: newer
10. The room you are in: office
11. Your ex: which?
12. Your fear: failure
13. What you want to be in 10 years: faithful
14. Who you hung out with last night: myself
15. What you’re not: disappointed
16. Muffins: yummy
17: One of your wish list items: furnace
18: Time: flying
19. The last thing you did: ate
20. What you are wearing: suit
21. Your favorite weather: mild
22. Your favorite book: many
23. The last thing you ate: lunch
24. Your life: God’s
25. Your mood: noncommittal
26. Your best friend: several
27. What you’re thinking about right now: meme
28. Your car: runs
29. What you are doing at the moment: blogging
30. Your summer: hot
31. Your relationship status: committed
32. What is on your TV: TV?
33. What is the weather like: sunny
34. When was the last time you laughed: today
O Canada…where pot’s a sacrament…
Kasia August 22nd, 2007
Apparently there’s an organization called the Church of the Universe (founded in 1969 according to Wikipedia – as always, be wary of the Wiki article I’ve linked to, but I didn’t know where one would find a more reliable resource on something so ridiculous) which is trying to sue the government of Canada for their right to smoke pot as a sacrament. I could not make this up – here’s the link.
Right. Read the Star article (the second link)? Let’s look closer.
The article’s author starts off with what I presume is the “church’s” claim: comparing marijuana to the wine that is consecrated into the Precious Blood.
This strikes me as a very problematic comparison. First of all, wine is legal, and with a few notable exceptions, has been throughout the Christian world for the past two thousand years. That’s the first and biggest problem with the parallel.
(Side question: does anyone know whether Catholic and Orthodox churches were permitted to use wine in their liturgies during Prohibition? I suppose it’s possible that there was an exemption for religious celebrations, considering how few people actually consumed any of the Precious Blood during the Tridentine Mass. However, considering that Prohibition ended shortly after Al Smith got spanked in the Presidential race for being a Catholic, I kind of doubt it.)
Anyway. Back to pot and the alleged Church of the Universe. For the moment let’s put aside the question of legality, since that’s part of the issue in the lawsuit. (I say ‘part’ for a reason, but more on that later.) And let’s leave, for the moment, the question of whether this “sacrament” or this “church” are valid.
Is smoking pot really analagous to sipping wine? I think not, and here’s why.
Using, for the sake of argument, the common form of the Mass used in most Roman Catholic churches worldwide – and I start with that simply because that’s what I’m most familiar with – with the exception of the celebrant, no one consumes more than a sip of the Precious Blood. Even that’s a generous measure, because in some parishes the Eucharist is administered by intinction, meaning the Host is dipped into the Precious Blood and placed on the communicant’s tongue. Furthermore, not all Latin Rite Catholics worldwide receive under both species. In many jurisdictions it’s standard practice to receive just the Host, though I believe the priest still consecrates the Blood under those circumstances. (Someone please correct me if I’m wrong on that.)
But OK. In Canada, which is where this lawsuit is being brought, most Catholics probably do receive under both species. So let’s say a sip of the Precious Blood.
Even a baby is not going to get drunk – or even buzzed – off the quantity of alcohol consumed by the average layperson at a Catholic Mass. (And unless you’re in an Eastern Rite, babies don’t receive the Eucharist anyway.) Even the quantity that I’m aware that the priest routinely consumes would be hard-put to intoxicate a child, much less a grown man. The only situation I’ve heard of where a priest might have to consume enough of the Precious Blood to actually have the alcohol content affect him – because the alcohol does remain after consecration, and no one’s saying it doesn’t – is in a situation like Fr. John described to us during one of our RCIA sessions, where he misjudged how much wine needed to be consecrated and consecrated way too much. He found himself in the sacristy after Mass, alone with a carafe of the Precious Blood, which cannot be simply dumped, even down the sacrarium, with less than 10 minutes until the next Mass he had to celebrate. So he downed the alcoholic equivalent of a bottle of wine by himself in 5 minutes. As he somewhat dryly put it (excuse the pun), “That next Mass could’ve been the best Mass I ever preached, or it could’ve been the worst. I don’t know. I don’t remember any of it.”
However, that’s not the intended purpose of the Eucharist, even for the priest. The purpose of the Eucharist is to receive and consume the Body and Blood of Christ, per His specific instructions. Situations like Father John’s unfortunate but one-time occurrence are the exception, not the rule, and are not the point of the sacrament of the Eucharist.
This “Church of the Universe” crowd, however, had this to say on their web site:
“The Sacred Herb, God’s Tree of Life, Marijuana of the Assembly of the Church of the Universe is considered KOSHER which is to say that God’s Tree of Life is a Holy Sacrament in the Church and as such it is imperative that our Holy Church Sacrament, God’s Tree of Life, Marijuana, by all its names and terms of endearment, be grown by our own Herbalists/Farmers, and distributed by our own Church Clergy. “
Keep it Holy – The Assembly of 69’ “
“Special Notice: It is open to each individual to use, maintain and grow The Tree of Life as required for worship, medicine, pleasure, paper clothing, food, fuel etc. etc.”
Putting aside the general inaneness of the verbiage, to say nothing of their cavalier treatment of the word “kosher” (something being kosher does NOT equal its being a sacrament, which even the questionable Judaic scholarship they cite should recognize), it’s pretty obvious that their basic raison d’etre is recreational pot use. The sacrament stuff is window dressing.
Look, people: Getting high is NOT a sacrament! Growing pot is NOT a sacrament!
This is so obviously the product of multiple (stoned) conversations by a bunch of (stoned) people who thought it would be, like, so gnarly if they could, you know, stick it to the Man by claiming a religious right to smoke pot, that I can’t believe I actually devoted this many pixels to it. It’s just so ridiculous that I couldn’t seem to help myself.
Just for Miss Jean… :-)
Kasia August 22nd, 2007
…ok, maybe for me too. 
I hate the Woodward Dream Cruise.
I know there are some who would have some choice words for me over that, but there you have it. I could go the rest of my life never hearing about the Woodward Dream Cruise and be a happy, happy Clam.
I would probably feel the same way about the Auto Show, but considering what the Auto Show’s leaving Detroit would mean for the Michigan economy, which of course is already in shambles, it gets a pass. I just never want to try to take the Tunnel Bus again during the Auto Show.
But the Dream Cruise…no. It gets no pass.
Don’t get me wrong. I dig old cars. And it’s a neat idea to have a given day where all the old cars are cruising Woodward like they used to do way back in the day, even if what you end up with is a bizarre historical mishmash, from Model Ts to Hummer limos.
Here is why I hate the Dream Cruise, broken down into points:
Point One: the Dream Cruise went from being a one-day event to being a week-long boondoggle.
Have a one-day cruise where one of the major arteries of the metro area is blocked off for cruising. Fine. But don’t have sixteen events leading up to it that clog the area for miles around! I used to work at a bank at Twelve Mile and Greenfield, so a couple of miles west of Woodward, and by Thursday night the streets were a mess. (For you lucky non-Detroiters, the Cruise is on a Saturday. Last Saturday, in fact.)
Point two: on a related note, it turns living, working, and driving in the area into the sixth ring of Hell. I have yet to meet anyone who works along that section of the Woodward corridor who has anything good to say about the Cruise, although I imagine the restauranteurs like it, seeing as they actually might turn a profit from it.
Point three: not only has the Dream Cruise been blown up into a monster, but like any good Hydra it is sprouting heads. Next they started talking about a Gratiot Cruise, and who knows how long before Grand River falls prey to cruise mania. Keep it manageable, guys! Some of us still have to drive in this city!
Point four: the snobbery. Good heavens, the snobbery! Look here, people with ‘63 split-window Stingrays and Model Ts and Edsels: if we’re going to close off Woodward so you can relive your glory days and we can all ooh and ahh over your slick rides, you can share the road with the Pintos and the Gremlins and yes, even the ‘78 Grand Torinos. Come to think of it, you can share the road with ANYone who wants to drive it with you. Even an ‘88 Escort wagon.
Don’t whine to me about how ‘old’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘classic’. ‘Classic’ is about the most useless term you can use in this context, because it’s just about impossible to come up with a meaningful, practical definition. So either suck it up and deal with it, or cancel the Cruise and just show off your Stingray via regular driving, like people have to do in most cities.
For the record, when I lived down by Wayne State, I hated the Dally in the Alley, the Festival of the Arts, and the Thanksgiving Day Parade too, for similar if not identical reasons.
The Dally: Thinly disguised drug fest. At least half the booths sell paraphernalia. One year some tripping twenty-somethings dragged a sofa out into the middle of Second Avenue so they could bask in their high there. Then they left the sofa in the middle of Second. This is midtown Detroit. Stuff like that doesn’t get taken care of. It was still there several days later. Plus, the Dally means lots of loud drunks walking by your house at 1 a.m.
The Festival of the Arts: Not as bad as the Dally, and has some neat stuff, but parking is even worse during the Festival than it is during the Dally. Plus, the morning after the Festival ends you can drive down Woodward and see litter practically coating the sidewalks and grass. It is NOT that hard to find a trash can during the Festival, people. Be considerate – other people actually live and work where you just threw your half-eaten hot dog and squashed-out lemonade cup! Though it could be worse…I used to have a friend who lived in New Orleans, in the French Quarter, back before it became the French Swamp. Apparently it’s the height of chic to pee on someone’s porch during Mardi Gras. My friend’s husband used to hide in the bushes with the garden hose to discourage potential porch-pee-ers…
The parade: Actually the least-worst of the three, probably partly because it’s so temporally contained. They block off the streets the night before, and they’re unblocked by noon. My main gripes are (a) the litter (see comments about the Festival), and (b) the fact that the first year I lived there, I was trapped on foot one side of Woodward while The Big Seester sat waiting for me in her car on the other side of Woodward so we could go to our family Thanksgiving thing. The traffic, the parking…they’re a nuisance, but hey, it’s less than a day. Not that hard to work around, really. But hey, as long as I was griping… 
I don’t know about “never pushy”…
Kasia August 20th, 2007
What Your Latte Says About You |
 You are easygoing and pretty simple to please. You don’t put up a fuss… ever.You can be quite silly at times, but you know when to buckle down and be serious. You have a good deal of energy, but you pace yourself. You never burn out too fast. You’re addicted to caffeine. There’s no denying it. You are responsible, mature, and truly an adult. You’re occasionally playful, but you find it hard to be carefree. You are expressive and friendly, but you are never pushy. |
Urrrgh…
Kasia August 20th, 2007
Don’t mind me. I’m still twitching.
The Canuck was in town this weekend, and didn’t sleep well Saturday night. As a result, he was exhausted when it was time to get up and go to church Sunday morning, so we decided not to drive the 1/2 hour each way to the parish I belong to; instead we’d catch a slightly later Mass at my territorial parish, which is maybe 1/4 mile from my home.
In case you were wondering why I don’t go to my territorial parish, I’m hoping this account will clarify things for you.
Before I start, though, I must stress that this was not the parish I attended for Assumption last Wednesday. That was an entirely different parish. And as an editorial correction, I found out for certain who the priest was at the other parish who did that interesting twist on the offertory. He is not the new associate pastor; he’s just been filling in there until the new associate pastor arrived.
Anyway. The Canuck and I were running a little late, having had the opportunity to lounge a bit before it was time to go to Mass, and got in about 5 minutes before Mass was scheduled to begin. I was pretty embarrassed, as I try very hard not to play “beat the priest” – I think it’s disrespectful – but I understand that it happens. Happens to me, happens to everyone, and we just (one hopes) all do our best not to let it happen often.
There were only about a dozen people in the church when we arrived. Well, maybe two dozen. About four minutes after we arrived (so about one minute before Mass was scheduled to begin, and yes, the procession was lined up at the back of the church to begin Mass) a flood of people arrived.
“OK,” I thought. “It’s drizzly outside, and that makes everyone run a little slower. Plus I’m sure a lot of these folks have kids, and that can slow you down too. And Heaven knows I run late sometimes – the Canuck jokes about my having come on my due date being the last time I was on time for anything.” So I didn’t think much of it – I figured it was unlikely that they were ALL just running late this once, but I also figured, quite rightly, I think, that it really wasn’t my concern. That was between them and God.
So Mass began.
And at least at first, it was pretty uneventful. I don’t like that the tabernacle is kept off in a side chapel, but they had added a corpus to the cross since last I was there (which was probably Assumption last year), and the priest was doing a fairly good, reasonably reverent job. Of course, 90% or more of the chairs (not pews, chairs) didn’t have kneelers, and I hadn’t realized any of them did at all, so I hadn’t thought to scout us out chairs with kneelers, so I wasn’t sure what the Canuck was going to do when the Consecration started (I don’t have knee or back problems to speak of, so kneeling on the floor isn’t an issue for me at present). But apart from having difficulty blocking out the infants and toddlers who were fussing, I wasn’t having any real issues. The Gospel reading actually had a Gloria *after* as well as before, so I automatically sat down before I realized everyone else was still standing. Whoops – I jumped back up. Figured hey, a little more praise of God can never be a bad thing, right?
Then the homily started.
Father started off talking about how it can be difficult to go against the grain. Fair enough. Then he started talking about people who have done just that, citing (St.) Joan of Arc, (St.) Thomas More, Dorothy Day…all fine so far. Then he mentioned Mahatma Gandhi.
Errmmm…ok, well, citing him as someone who went against the grain…OK.
He mentioned a couple of others, then Martin Luther King Jr.
Again…errrmmm…ok…yeah…
Then he said, “All these have died in Christ.”
‘Scuse me?
MLK was, at least, a Christian. Gandhi wasn’t.
To be perfectly clear here, I’m not taking issue with the possibility that Mahatma Gandhi is in Heaven. He may well be. The Church does teach that, while the Church possesses the fullness of Truth, that depending on various circumstances someone outside the Church may be saved.
No, that’s not what turned my head. What turned my head was his stating as plain fact that Gandhi died in Christ. Whether he meant in baptism (and to my knowledge Gandhi was never baptized) or in literal death, I can’t see it applying. Christ died for all of us, yes, but does it follow that we all die in Christ? If so, what’s the point of saying it?
Then he went on to cite Bishop Gumbleton as another brave soul who, according to this priest, is being punished by the higher-ups in the Church for “daring to question the authenticity of our witness.” Mmm. No comment.
Finally, he cued the music. I didn’t know Garth Brooks counted as “sacred music”.
Yes. He played Standing Outside the Fire. After the two introductory verses and choruses, during the instrumental portion, he came back to the microphone and intoned a few tight sentences about how we need to be inside the fire. Then Garth finished up.
The Canuck and I looked at each other.
The offertory started. The Canuck leaned over to me and whispered, “Would you like me to keep the check in my pocket?”
I whispered back, “I’m tempted. What do you think?”
“Honestly,” he whispered back, “I can’t in good conscience support this kind of thing.”
I agreed, and we passed the basket without contributing.
The rest of the Mass was relatively uneventful too – I only saw one person besides myself and the Canuck kneeling for the Consecration, and because I was kneeling near the back I couldn’t see what the priest’s behavior was like at all. And when I walked up and opened my mouth to receive on the tongue (like I always do), I thought the priest hesitated a moment. I half wondered if he wasn’t going to give me the Eucharist. But he did.
The one thing I have to say in defense of the priest is that he seemed to be a basically decent guy who really cares about living a Christian life. He’s not like a lot of apathetic priests I’ve encountered.
That doesn’t mean he isn’t sincerely wrong.
The other thing that really bothered both of us was the behavior of some of the children there. Now, I’ve said before and I’ll say again, babies crying at Mass doesn’t much bother me, provided the parents are paying enough attention that they figure out when the little one needs to be taken out into the narthex. Same goes for small children who are too small to really know better, and even older small children who probably ought to know better but are misbehaving. Kids are kids. As long as you’re being a reasonably responsible parent, I don’t really care to put up a fuss about noise.
This parish didn’t have a cry room. However, a few people who were sitting in the back of the church seemed to think that there was an invisible wall in front of their section that created a cry room. One woman was interacting with her two-or-three-year-old son in a normal speaking voice throughout most of the Mass. I also heard some noises from an electronic game (which, mercifully, was either taken away or at least muted early in the Mass). Etc, etc.
Uh oh…
Kasia August 17th, 2007
Looks like Dr. Mabuse and I had better strike each other from our blogrolls…
You Are a Ham Sandwich |
 You are quiet, understated, and a great comfort to all of your friends. Over time, you have proven yourself as loyal and steadfast. And you are by no means boring. You do well in any situation – from fancy to laid back.Your best friend: The Turkey Sandwich Your mortal enemy: The Grilled Cheese Sandwich |
What Kind of Sandwich Are You?
Good thing I don’t place much stock in personality tests of any kind, much less Internet quizzes that try to equate me to food/Crayolas/European cities in five questions or less.
Clam Pet Peeves
Kasia August 17th, 2007
I think I’m going to have to start a weekly “Pet Peeves” post. I have so many peeves…
This week I have three pet peeves for what I hope will be your reading enjoyment. If I start sounding too grumbly (as opposed to a little grumbly but kinda funny too), let me know.
PEEVE #1: Apparently I need a sign for my windshield. Maybe I can get it airbrushed on or something. I want it to say “I’M NOT PARKING IN YOUR LOT.” I get really frustrated when I’m trying to drive downtown to go to the Chancery or to cross the border, and every ten feet I have guys waving their arms like crazy, trying to get me to park in their lot for the event they assume I’m coming down for. I go to about three such events per year, tops, and when I do I almost always park in the Campus Martius structure. It’s cheaper, safer, and better-lit than most lots, plus it’s paved and has a roof. And there’s a Detroit Police substation on the first floor. What’s not to love?
PEEVE #2: This goes out to some of my fellow Latin Rite Catholics. Look, guys, I realize you’re probably right about the etymology of the term “Roman Catholic”. It probably was originally pejorative. But language does change. Otherwise “nice” would mean “ignorant”.
So next time you’re tempted to get all uppity about Protestants referring to us as “Roman Catholics”, I urge you to consider the following points:
a. My parish has a big sign out front that reads “St. [X] Roman Catholic Church” (emphasis mine);
b. My paycheck comes from the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of [Y] (again, emphasis mine);
So rather than being offended at a name that apparently well-meaning Protestants use for us that we ourselves use at least part of the time, let’s focus on being offended by names that actually ought to offend us. Like “Papist”. Or “Romanist”. Or “Maryolator”. You know. That kind of thing.
PEEVE #3: I got my first payment reminder from CSA yesterday. It had my name, my account number, and a space for “Amount Remitted”. It didn’t say how much I’d pledged, how much was due…nothing. So I called CSA this morning…and it turns out they only include that information QUARTERLY. Helpful, guys. Really helpful. Especially since I didn’t get my July statement. :-p
Come to think of it, I made a pledge to a local parish’s building campaign back a few months ago. I still have not started getting reminders. I wonder if they’re not doing reminders?…
