The Clam Rampant

Kasia August 16th, 2007

I don’t want to hear any criticisms about the US bishops today. They’re not perfect, I’m sure, but at least they’re not suggesting that we all start calling God “Allah”. Unlike one of their (mercifully) retiring Dutch brethren.

There are a couple of articles on this to which I’d like to draw your attention. The first is from MSNBC.com; the second is from foxnews.com.

The crux of the bishop’s argument, it seems, is that “Allah” is just another name for God, and that God doesn’t care what we call him. He also pointed out that when he spent eight years in Indonesia, they used the word “Allah” for God in Mass.

Yes. Of course they did. Because “Allah” is the Indonesian word for God. Don’t believe me? Google “english indonesian” and click on the free online dictionary. Enter “God” in the English section. It’ll look something like this:

So since Mass is presumably conducted in the vernacular in Indonesia, it would be proper to use the Indonesian word during the Mass, just as it’s proper for Arabic-speaking Christians to refer to God as Allah. Because it’s the correct word in their language!

Assuming I spoke all the requisite languages fluently, I would have no problem with referring to God as Allah to an Arabic or Indonesian speaker; referring to God as Gott to a German speaker; or Dieu to a French speaker, yadda yadda.

However, for an English (or German, or French) speaker to refer to God as Allah to other English (or German, or French) speakers connotes something very particular. It connotes that you are speaking of God as he is understood by Muslims. And frankly, if it’s “just a word,” I’ll stick with my own word, thanks.

I have no problem understanding a Muslim who refers to Allah to me. He or she is referring to the God of Abraham as he or she understands Him. Which is emphatically not the way I understand Him, which is to say one God in three Persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The Muslim is referring to God who does not beget and is not begotten.

Tell you what. I’ll consider calling God Allah when Muslims consider referring to Jesus as the Savior instead of a prophet. They’re just words, right? Isn’t it really our hang-up, not God’s?

AAAAAUUUUGH!!! [beats head against wall] WORDS MATTER. WORDS HAVE MEANINGS. THEY HAVE BOTH DENOTATIONS AND CONNOTATIONS. THEY HAVE NUANCE. THEY HAVE SUBTEXT. Why, oh why, is this so hard for this poor misguided bishop to understand?!

Has someone seen my sheep costume? It seems to have gone missing, and there was a strange man with a Dutch accent and a mitre hanging around…

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Kasia August 15th, 2007

Although I have to admit, it’s hard for me to see how “62%” equals “certainly a feminist,” even assuming that their egregiously unscientific and therefore not-to-be-taken-as-anything-more-than-a-laugh quiz is right about my alleged feminist percentage.

And if you decide to take this quiz, be warned that there will probably be some questions for which you don’t find a good answer. For example, it said “Men and women should be held to the same sexual standard,” with which I agree, but then the question went on to say “if men can sleep with anyone they want without being judged, women should be able to too.” Um, how about no?

Again curtsy to Stephanie, whose comments about gender-blindness rather than gender-equality are pretty close to my opinions on the subject.

You Are 62% Feminist

You are certainly a feminist - whether you know it or not.You believe in gender equality, at least most of the time. You also believe there are a few exceptions.

Are You a Feminist?

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Kasia August 15th, 2007

You know that old thing about “at least fascism made the trains run on time”?

While I appreciate efficiency - in fact, I probably appreciate it a little too much for my own good, in that I consistently overbook myself in the name of being ‘efficient’ - there are times when it’s just not worth it. Take, for example, the trains running on time. Sure, that’s a good thing. If it was actually true in Italy and Spain, given my experiences in southern Europe, that’s quite an achievement. However, it’s kind of a “duh” that timely trains are not worth thousands or millions of lives lost and a totalitarian government.

Today I was at my fast-becoming-notorious local parish for the Feast of the Assumption (hey Catholics, it’s a holy day of obligation! If you haven’t gotten to Mass yet, be sure you do sometime today, unless you’re deathly ill or otherwise unable to go). The priest, bless his heart, used the correct words for the Consecration this time, and though there were a couple of other…irregularities, shall we say?, mostly it was a reasonably reverent Mass.

However, there was one thing that really bothered me. Something I’ve never seen someone do before.

When it came time for the offertory, he told us that “to save time” he wasn’t going to walk up and down the aisles with the baskets. Instead, they were just going to sit up at the edge of the sanctuary by where they distribute Communion, and we could just drop our offerings in when we went up for Communion.

WOW.

Since I could not really imagine going up, receiving the Body of Christ, and dropping a fiver into the basket on my way over to receive the Precious Blood, I opted not to make a contribution this morning.

Wow. Just wow.

The worst part is, it really didn’t even save any time. Because usually what happens is that the gifts (the hosts and wine) are brought up during the offering, so the priest has a chance to start prepping things before the baskets are brought up with the offertory. As it was, he did the first prayer (the prayer over the gifts?) and then had to go back into the sacristy (which, mercifully, adjoins the sanctuary) for another packet of Hosts, which he then put into the paten right there on the altar.

Now, maybe the poor priest had a new sacristan who hadn’t prepped things like he ought. Maybe he didn’t have a sacristan at all today. Maybe the altar girl was supposed to set things up and didn’t do everything she was supposed to. I don’t know.

But eeek and egad.

Actually, I was wrong. That was the second-worst thing (that it didn’t save time). The worst thing was that I still was back in my car AND ON THE MAIN ROAD (not even pulling out of the space in the lot) at 7:37 a.m. So it was a half-hour Mass, maybe thirty-four minutes tops. That’s not that long. Why do you need to save time?

But - to reiterate - he was much better than last time. Maybe I’ll send him a gentle e-mail, explaining why I didn’t contribute to the offering and offering to send my contribution to the parish instead.

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Kasia August 15th, 2007

  Which Author’s Fiction are You?  

Flannery O’Connor wrote your book. Not much escapes your notice.
Take this quiz!

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Curtsy to Stephanie for this…I’m almost afraid to take the “are you a feminist” quiz…

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Kasia August 14th, 2007

…or all the people who stand at Nine Mile and Woodward protesting it have decided to quit protesting. (For The Big Seester’s sake, I have to say: maybe they’ve gone and gotten jobs? Har de har.)

That, or I should leave work on time every day. Because when I drove past Nine Mile, there was nary a soul on the sidewalk or the dividing easement, not a sign to be seen, and (thank you, Lord!) no obnoxious passersby honking. (And for the record, “obnoxious passersby” would include people who honk and flip them off, as I expect a few do. I expect that because I’ve done too much protesting in my life to think otherwise.)

In all seriousness, I was against going into Iraq. Very against it. But we’re there, we did the deed, and IMHO, to pull out now while the country is teetering on the verge of a civil war would be unconscionable. Frankly, pulling out any time after Hussein’s government fell would’ve been unconscionable IMHO, because we went and created a big ol’ power vacuum there that numerous factions, states and terrorist organizations are vying to fill. Are there serious problems with the situation in Iraq? Yes; I think that’s pretty clear. But pulling out is only going to make it worse.

Yesterday the protesters were there in force - apparently it was a beautiful day for protesting - and while I sat at the light at Nine Mile on my way from my first job to my second, despite being two or three lanes over from the median easement I could still hear one protester loudly explaining to her neighbor how, you know, if you don’t CARE about other people, you know, then, you know, what’s the, you know, like, point? (Because surely everyone who cares about other people is at the protest, and all of us poor slobs just driving by must not think about anyone beyond ourselves.)

So I made up my mind then and there to post on it, and to take the opportunity to post lyrics to one of my very favorite Tom Lehrer songs. Mr. Lehrer, if you see this and you object, just e-mail me and I’ll take them down. But I’m not making any money off this, I’m giving you full credit, and if you’d heard the girl, I think you’d agree she needs a rousing round of The Folk Song Army:

We are the Folk Song Army!
Every one of us CARES!
We all hate poverty, war, and injustice,
Unlike the rest of you squares!

There are innocuous folks songs, yeah,
But we regard ‘em with scorn
The folks who sing ‘em have no social conscience;
Why, they don’t even care if Jimmy Crack Corn!

If you feel dissatisfaction
Strum your frustrations away!
Some people may prefer action, but
Give me a folk song [or: protest] any old day.

The tune don’t have to be clever,
And it don’t matter if you put a couple of extra syllables into a line,
It sounds more ethnic if it ain’t good English
And it don’t even gotta rhyme…excuse me, “rhyne”…

Remember the war against Franco?
That’s the kind where each of us belongs!
They may have won all the battles, but
We had all the good songs…

So join in the Folk Song Army,
Guitars are the weapons we bring
To the fight against poverty, war and injustice,
Ready!…Aim!…SING!!!

(All credit for this song goes to Mr. Tom Lehrer, whose songs highlighted the soundtrack of my childhood.)

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Kasia August 14th, 2007

Yes, this I know. For my pot belly tells me so.

The only question in my mind is when. Will it be at…78, when my paternal grandmother died of an aortal aneurysm caused by a heart attack?

Or what about at 60, like my paternal grandfather, who died of a massive heart attack?

Or maybe at 43, like my paternal uncle, who died of - yep - a massive heart attack?

Or will I perhaps start getting symptoms in my 50s like my father did, having an angioplasty at 55 to correct a 95% blockage in my major arteries, and live a while longer (Deo gratias!) thanks to six different medications that will make me fall asleep every time I sit down?

I quit smoking four and a half years ago, so I doubt my mother’s family history of cancer and circulatory disease will catch up to me before the heart disease does.

But I know that because of my pot belly. No other clues. Nope, none at all.  :-p

/sarcasm

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Kasia August 14th, 2007

For those of you who don’t know, Chez Kasia is in an inner-ring eastern suburb of the city of Detroit. I work in the city proper, just north of Grand Boulevard. So most mornings I take I-94 to work. On the many mornings when 94 is backed up, I usually take Harper. This morning 94 was pretty clear up until Conner, so I hopped off at Conner and jogged up to Harper, which I took until it goes all wonky by the GM plant (I’m not sure whether it’s still Harper there or whether it turns into Grand). Then I turned left on Milwaukee to get over to Woodward.

Would you believe I nearly hit an Eastern wild turkey that had decided to cross Milwaukee right there by the train tracks?

No, I’m not kidding. This is a great opportunity for me to play with the photo feature of this software, which I haven’t yet mastered…

It looked just like this:

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Kasia August 10th, 2007

My friend Jenn’s friend Ryan has some serious health issues, and could really use some prayer. Please also pray for his wife, who is also a friend of Jenn’s, and their young daughter.

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Kasia August 8th, 2007

An e-mail forward from my friend Jen:

The Teacher Applicant

After being interviewed by the school administration, the teaching prospect said, “Let me see if I’ve got this right:

“You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning.

“You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride.

“You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job.

“You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the state exams.

“You want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card.

“You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, a big smile, and a starting salary that qualifies me for food stamps.

“You want me to do all this and then you tell me…

“I CAN’T PRAY?”

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Kasia August 8th, 2007

To quote the inimitable Mark Shea, file this one under “Sin makes you stupid.”

I heard on WWJ this morning that the Capuchin Soup Kitchen was vandalized. Specifically, someone or some persons ripped apart the heating and cooling units, looking for scrap copper and aluminum. WWJ cited the damage at $20,000.

Here is the Detroit News article about the same vandalism, but they’re listing the damage at more like $50,000. Either way, it’s a huge chunk of change for anyone. It’s particularly a huge chunk of change for a religious order, and even more so for a mendicant order like the Capuchins.

I think what turns my stomach the most about this whole thing is that the Capuchins do such good work among the poor, of which there are plenty in Detroit. If you took the Capuchins and the regular Franciscans (down at St. Aloysius) out of the city, you’d have a considerable hit on the other service agencies. So this is almost literally biting the hand that feeds, although I suppose there’s no real reason to assume that the thieves were (a) local or (b) patrons of the soup kitchen. I guess it’s possible that it’s a suburban gang that hits the city because they know that police protection is scantier. Either way, it’s despicable.

I know anger itself can’t be a sin, because Our Lord got angry when he turned over the tables in the temple. Where’s the line? Anyone know? I need to know if I need to get to Confession this weekend…

Sigh.

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