Tragic Christian (www.tragic-christian.org)

About Miranda

She is almost 11 years old, gliding effortlessly on the ice.  Miranda did not come into ice skating by inclination – she’s not naturally talented in this.  She got to where she is through hard work and dedication, and I think that’s a better way to get anywhere.

Adolescence is rushing upon her like a train.

She appears to be half legs in her skating outfit.  She is outwardly calm, but inwardly a mass of contradictions and emotions.  The constant sea-change of girl’s relationships at this age – who’s friends with who, who doesn’t like who, etc. – occupies much of her mind. 

Going to the devil --- cheap!

How nice that Amazon's selling their satanic jewelry for a discount! (see third row down)

What an Odd Movie! #1

A new series, to share discoveries I've made.

Gabriel Over the White House (1933).  Where to begin on this one?  Walter Huston (father of John, grandfather of Angelica) plays a bachelor President of the United States who likes to remain hands-off, uninvolved, a good ol' boy among good ol' boys.

So during a trip he takes over the steering wheel of his car from his driver, and speeds at about 110 mph down the road, getting into an auto accident and lapsing into a coma.  When he recovers some weeks later, whenever he makes a decision, he's surrounded by beatific light.

He fires his corrupt cabinet -- he creates a new army for unemployed workers, to put them on projects until the economy kicks up again and can absorb them (much like Roosevelt's WPA, but with uniforms and everything).  He creates another uniformed private army to conquer gangsterism (not before the chief gangster sprays the White House with tommygun fire in a driveby shooting -- I told you, this movie's off the rails!).

And in the end, he pretty much threatens the other nations of the world to pay off their WWI debts because the US can put together a larger and more deadly army than they can ever dream of.  So they opt not to build armies of their own, but pay us off instead.  This movie is capped by a treaty signing (notably by the ambassador from Japan), and then the President drops dead. 

I'm still trying to figure this one out.

Back from Vac

We spent a week on vacation up North.  We visited some friends in Santa Cruz (aka Boulder-by-the-Sea), took in the Monterey Aquarium (kind of …) and then went to visit the in-laws.

I lived for six years in Boulder, Colorado, going to school and helping found the NPR public radio station there, as well as the university’s radio station. It’s an uber-liberal university town with no discernable middle class – there are some very wealthy people, and some educated people who don’t mind living at the poverty line (Ph.D’s waiting tables, for example) just to be there.  But not much of a middle class.  Housing is very expensive.  It’s just like Santa Cruz!  Get your graduate degree, work in the organic market, live like a student for the rest of your life!  Sign me up!

"Chromosomal Racism"

This article talks about the recent death of the man who discovered the chromosomal cause of Down Syndrome.  He was very pro-life, and called the aborting of these children "chromosomal racism," a term I plan to use!

Prayers needed

Bad news this week.  Dr. Wife's mom, the bulwark and strength of her family, is seriously ill with cancer.  She flew over to supervise Mom's treatment last week.  We were planning to visit next week, and we will, but it's with a new sense of urgency and poignancy right now.

Mom is a staunch Catholic, and they're all about saints, of course.  My Protestant mind has found a lot to appeal about saints.  To my understanding, we don't pray to the saints, we must always pray to God -- but if Christians are a great cloud of witnesses where death is no barrier, then it doesn't hurt to ask your fellow Christian to pray on your behalf, does it?  So I can ask a saint as well as a fellow parishioner, can't I?

Of course.  So I am sending appeals to Bl. Brother Andre (Mom's cousin), and his patron, St. Joseph.  Great Aunt, Mom's elder sister and the repository of all things deeply Catholic in the family, recommends that we pray to John Paul the Great as well.

Signs O’ the Times

Dot’s regular physical therapist was on vacation yesterday.  Her substitute was a raven-haired beauty who spoke with a distinct laid-back California accent.  Once Dot transitioned to her well, I left to wait in the reception room and let them do their thing unimpeded. 

When they finished, the PT was shaking her head, amazed.  “She knows a LOT of signs,” she said.

By “signs” she means words and phrases in American Sign Language.  Dot loves to use her hands to speak.  We’re so glad we discovered signing for kids.