I've been looking at the TV listings, and I see The Faith Network has some new reality shows running. Samples:
"Jim-Bob at Large"- Rev Jim-Bob Tucker of the Flountsville Baptist Church plans to perform a miracle with a couple chickens and some goats. (Animals not available at press time).
"Hello, Dalai!"-The Dalai Lama will cast demons out of some high-ranking Chinese leaders and reclaim his beleaguered nation. (Demons unfortunately will be available). "The Shirley Show"- We see Episcopal Bishop the Reverend Shirley Williamson as she presides over a gay wedding and is then hit by lightning on the way to her car.
"You Can Call Me Al"- Rev. Al Sharpton gets a manicure and a pedicure, and maybe a perm too, as he pretties up before meeting with some corporate chieftains to raise a few million for his "foundation".
"Don't Call Me Darryl"- Richard Dawkins regretfully informs God that He probably doesn't exist. "Jewis…
Those of us who are pro-life, those of us who are conservatives on most issues-we're not crazy about the Trump takeover of our party, which for all its flaws, did provide a real ideological contrast to the contemporary version of liberalism, which is merely authoritarianism in a Brooks Brothers suit.
So, what to do? Well, I only have one vote, so it doesn't matter much in the larger scheme of things-but I won't be a party to setting back the pro-life cause. No Bleeping Way. So Hillary's out. Next: Is Trump's pro-life "conversion" sincere? Is anything about Trump sincere? Could we assume, as so many do, that Trump would at least appoint better judges, ones more likely to not be avowedly pro-abortion, than Mrs. Clinton? Who knows? There are many Trumps, all of them unsavory.
And so it seems to me, at least at the moment, that Clintonism-rather than Hillary-is the real threat. As I implied above, I'm not at all sure Hillary would be a worse President on…
I notice that Miles Davis' 1959 classic, Kind of Blue (vinyl) leads Amazon's jazz CD/vinyl sales rankings.
In a world where Kenny G is considered a jazz musician, and Donald Trump is thought of by some as Presidential timber, any note that indicates the culture is not in utter collapse is wonderful.
1959, besides being the year of my birth, was a cultural milepost. The 60's were the Kid Decade, as William F. Buckley, Jr, aptly termed it, and in '59 popular culture was still,
well, good. Miles, Sinatra, Brubeck; Hitchcock and Billy Wilder-music and movies were more than assaults on the senses.
Well, just a little-2%. Let's see-that's 1/50; one great-great-great grandparent would be 1/32; one great-great-great-great grandparent, 1/64. So, a tiny smidgen.
My sister did a DNA test and the results came back 50% Irish; 31% undifferentiated Western European; 17% Southern Italian/Greek; 2% Jewish. I believe the 31% is the non-Celtic part of my Irish ancestry. It gets confusing because I had two great-grandparents who came here from England, but likely were Welsh or Irish, judging by the surnames. Also, my maternal Grandfather was born in Italy. That should, of course, correspond to 25% not 17.
I won't make any speeches about how I've always found anti-Semitism to be abhorrent, or how I've never understood the pro-Palestinian crowd, although both are true. I'll just say it's nice to be related, however distantly, to various Biblical figures. People do say I look a lot like Jesus.
For some reason the posts are now out of order. Being a real PICNIC ("problem in chair, not in computer") I have no idea how to fix it. (I tried). Anyway the Obama post below (President of the Playground) is actually the most recent post.
So...I saw a woman on the bus, whom I know slightly, and said out loud the thought that had often popped into my head when seeing her: "You look just like my Grandmother".
This was not well-received, despite the fact that the woman does in fact resemble my Mother's mother. Definitely one of those faces with the map of a particular corner of Ireland on it. Out West, I'd say. But in any case she said to me, "Well, I didn't want to hear that". This was perhaps the first time in my life I'd said something that offended someone, so I didn't know what to say (right).
I later pondered how I might have phrased my ill-advised comment. "My Grandmother looks just like you". Uhh, no.
"For a woman who quite obviously is far too young to be my Grandmother, you resemble her". Better, but sounds smarmy.
"You have the look of the West Country of Ireland, which my Grandmother also had". Huh?
THE average man votes below himself; he votes with half a mind or a hundredth part of one. A man ought to vote with the whole of himself, as he worships or gets married. A man ought to vote with his head and heart, his soul and stomach, his eye for faces and his ear for music; also (when sufficiently provoked) with his hands and feet. If he has ever seen a fine sunset, the crimson colour of it should creep into his vote. If he has ever heard splendid songs, they should be in his ears when he makes the mystical cross. But as it is, the difficulty with English democracy at all elections is that it is something less than itself. The question is not so much whether only a minority of the electorate votes. The point is that only a minority of the voter votes.
Having recently moved (only about 300 feet, but it was still an ordeal), I can attest to the truth of the headline. Way too many books. Way too many CD's. And too few items I felt comfortable throwing out, though I did dispose of some (cancelled checks from 2001, and the like).
Yet here I go again. Bought a bike yesterday (old one too expensive to fix). Bought a camera a few days before (want to have something better than my tablet to take pictures with). As an economist would say, I have a very modest propensity to save. I always think, Wow, what if I had just 10% of every bit of income I've ever had. I'd be loaded.
I have all this STUFF, despite the fact that I've never had much money. Yes, I know that's an example of The Butterfield Effect.
Buddhists say to want is to suffer. I guess I should've suffered more, and wanted less. This notion is about to get a trial, as my credit card approaches its limit. I'm about to do the most un-American thing one can…
And here I am again. You've seen me, in disembodied blog form, in various iterations. None was particularly popular, but some had colorful names, such as Mystic Chords, and Birdland59. My blogs have always lacked the one thing necessary for success: engaging content. This I hope to remedy by adopting a hipster persona that the public will find compelling...or maybe by just writing better.
On my other blogs, I focused on politics, music, Catholicism, and the occasional movie review. How boring. Here I will talk about politics, music, Catholicism, and the occasional movie review. I hope you notice the difference.