*Add “white nationalist” to the list of insults that have no meaning. “Racist” lost meaning long ago, as did “bigot” and “Fascist.” All words to connote someone who simply disagrees with the Left. So broad, they’re no longer reliable.
*I’m afraid North Korea has to be taken out. I hate war, but I fear this really is a threat that can’t be ignored any longer (thanks, Obama, for kicking the N. Korean can down the road for eight years).
I listened to a Tom Woods podcast last night, in which he said he had an excellent debate night at Yale recently. At a time when colleges and universities condemn free speech and open debate, he said Yale upholds it in the highest degree every Tuesday night. I never thought I’d say this, but congrats, Yale. Link to Woods’ account.
I never got through the entire book, but I was sad to see this yesterday: “Robert Pirsig: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance author dies aged 88.” He rides around the United States with his son and a married couple. He carries a kit to fix his motorcycle. His friend doesn’t. The difference in approach somehow signals an existential divide, but I couldn’t hang with it long enough to get to the bottom of it. The prose is good, and I found it enjoyable overall. My attention simply failed me on my three attempts to read it.
I’m continuing to dip into Dorothy Day’s diaries a few times every week. I think I’m at 1955 (about a third of the way through). There’s lots of great stuff in there, like this, “There is a Russian saying, ‘For every sin of another which we conceal, three of our own are forgiven.'” For a man always tempted to point out others’ faults, and a man who has three times as many, this is poignant advice.
Happy birthday to my mom. She’s a wonderful woman. They say a mother’s love is unconditional. My mom proves they are right.
I took Michael and Meg out to eat Saturday night, and one of the big screens was showing the NFL draft. I was puzzled because I didn’t think it started until this week. It turns out the NFL Network is broadcasting previous years’ drafts. Man, and I thought I was a loser for watching the first round of the draft until the Lions pick. I can scarcely imagine what troglodyte sits around, watching, say, the 2010 draft.
That Manent sentence from yesterday’s post is worth repeating: “We invite catastrophe by sincerely believing that the religious affiliation of a citizen has no political bearing or effect.” Pierre Manent.
Another quote from Manent worth pondering: “Christian hope is based on faith. I believe that, amid the crumbling of Western civilization, which has begun, the supernatural character of the Church will become, paradoxically, more and more visible. The hatred of the world will turn against it more and more clearly. More clearly than ever the fate of all will depend on the ‘little flock’ of Christians.”
I am obliged to re-produce Chesterton’s great poem, “The Englishman”:
St George he was for England,
And before he killed the dragon
He drank a pint of English ale
Out of an English flagon.
For though he fast right readily
In hair-shirt or in mail,
It isn’t safe to give him cakes
Unless you give him ale.
St George he was for England,
And right gallantly set free
The lady left for dragon’s meat
And tied up to a tree;
But since he stood for England
And knew what England means,
Unless you give him bacon
You mustn’t give him beans.
St George he is for England,
And shall wear the shield he wore
When we go out in armour
With battle-cross before.
But though he is jolly company
And very pleased to dine,
It isn’t safe to give him nuts
Unless you give him wine.
“We invite catastrophe by sincerely believing that the religious affiliation of a citizen has no political bearing or effect. . . We invite catastrophe when we confuse the obligation to rescue a person who is drowning with that person’s right to become a citizen of our country. We invite catastrophe when, in the name of charity or mercy, we require old Christian nations to open their borders to all who wish to enter.”
The warm weather, combined with kids sports tonight, drove me to the gin and tonic last night. I even made a return trip to the drinking club, so I could sit on its back deck and overlook the lake while discussing plans for the urban “farm” that I’m going to start the first week of May. It’s not really a farm, but rather a produce stand for my son Max to run. I’ll grow the produce on the 3/4 acre behind the stand. The excavator is supposed to come the first week of May to strip the sod (a mix of grass and weeds) and till.
That endeavour has devoured a large chunk of my time this week, hence the abbreviated blogging. And now a small hangover is devouring a small chunk of my time this morning.
Fortunately, I have a drinking post readily available: Let’s Bring Back: The Cocktail Edition (2012). Marie bought me this book last year but I forgot about it and didn’t crack its spine until a few weeks ago. My delayed loss. It’s great.
It’s not a book that explains how to make every drink, but rather a collection of more obscure recipes and commentary: light banter, anecdotes, history. Most of the recipes appear to come from the 19th and early 20th centuries, but it features older stuff, too, like Ancient Roman Mulsum: “Warm 1/2 cup clear honey. Add one bottle of medium-dry white wine and stir. Chill before serving.” I doubt I’ll try it, but the recipe, combined with the commentary on Roman wine, is entertaining.
The author of the book writes for the Huffington Post, so she’s probably a screaming leftist, but based on the parts of the book I’ve read so far, she leaves any political persuasions at the door. It’s a delightful read.
*The Aaron Hernandez story is sad. You expect more from a guy with such a great set of tattoos.
*My son’s track team won its last meet against a more “urban” team by one point. The other team’s lead 200-meter runner, who was the favorite to win the 200, left the track meet early to get All-You-Can-Eat Shrimp.
*My daughter’s soccer game went to a tie-breaker last night: a shoot-out. I really dug it. The soccer purists in the stands hate the shoot-out, but I, an uncultured slob, really dug it.
*One of the funniest Tweets I’ve seen in awhile:
You should call it the Eric Garner Memorial Choke Hold & Organized Crime Enhancement Act of 2017https://t.co/jjx7IANzjY
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