Disco Effect

I clicked on a "Which of these doesn't belong" Quiz from a link accessed from the Drudge Report (I think -- you've seen them), and discovered I was taking an on-line IQ test. I decided to go ahead with the rest of the quiz, whilst eating dinner and watching a movie...not the ideal conditions for such an endeavor.


Here's what the folks at Tickle said about my test (results sent to disposable eddress that I'll delete tonight):







"In the same class as Bill Gates" -- gotta make sure to mention that to the reunion committee in a couple of years.



The score qualifies me for Mensa, assuming that "random Internet quiz" gets added to the categories listed here.



Sadly, I think my IQ may have been higher (based on GRE V&Q) before I sat down to watch the movie...this movie.







BeeGees' music seems to have pulled some of the smarts from my head. All those years, and Izzy was right -- Disco DOES suck! Who knew?

BTW, if you've ever been interested, Mensa is waiving the evaluation fee this month for people with PE (prior evidence) of qualifying scores. If you have ever wanted to join and have scores in the ranges shown here on various tests, might as well do it this month. I'm still undecided. Any good reasons to join?

Bollywood Night

6 bloggers (one, two, three, four, five, six -- includes the two residents) and one patient spouse here tonight for Bollywood and sweets.

We watched Lage Raho Munnabhai, a Bollywood film with dance numbers, some singing--beautiful settings of some songs, a couple of weddings, and an actual, honest-to-goodness moral. You knew there was a moral to the movie, because none other than Gandhi, hisownself, gave it to you at the end.

Sweet, funny, clean, fun, and the movie was great, too. Good messages; I see why the Indian Prime minister recommends it.

Great lines:

Jhanvi: Do you walk on the path shown by Mahatma Gandhi?

Murli Prasad Sharma - Munna Bhai: Of course! I walk 3 miles everyday on Mahatma Gandhi Street
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Murli Prasad Sharma - Munna Bhai: [Munna Bhai is slapped by a police officer] Gandhi said if you are slapped, kindly show them the other cheek!

[he turns his other cheek toward the officer]

Murli Prasad Sharma - Munna Bhai: [the officer slaps his other cheek, Munnbhai punches him] Gandhi didn't say what to do after he hits the other one!

Happy Bday to Dogwood!

Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut has died. So it goes.

I discovered his works at the age of ten or eleven in the S thru Z shelves of the fiction section of the library. There were some great authors there: Sainte-Exupery, Tolkein, Twain, Leon Uris, Vonnegut, H. G. Wells, others I can't recall, but I can see myself seated on one of those rolling library step-stools pulling down books to read.

Vonnegut first gave me the gift of dark fiction with insight, quite a change from the missionary stories I read at home. In high school, I grew to appreciate the value of subversiveness in fiction as a means to incite questions about the status quo.

• How was the threat of the world ending from "Ice-9" similar to the ever-present fear we had of a Russion nuclear attack?
• What did it mean to have a society where everyone was equal -- did we really need the services of Handicapper General Diana Moon Glampers to have equality (and what was the difference between equality of opportunity and equality of result? Read the short story here, if you haven't before.)
• I had to think seriously about the value of life after reading about the purple roofed ethical suicide parlors next to the orange-roofed Howard Johnson diners (I am often reminded of the suicide parlors when I pass the former HoJo on our side of the river.)
• I never heard about Desden in school--I saw it through Billy Pilgrim's eyes.

Vonnegut's contributions to my experiences, a few I can recall off the top of my head, as I consider his recurring characters (Kilgore Trout) and bizarre motifs (he ruined asterisks for me*), include:

Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.

We must do, doodily do, doodily do, doodily do,
What we must, muddily must, muddily must, muddily must,
Muddily do, muddily do, muddily do, muddily do,
'Til we bust, bodily bust, bodily bust, bodily bust.
(creed of Bokanon)

Rabo Karabekian meeting a woman whose first word to him were "Tell me how your parents died."

I appreciated the random things Vonnegut threw into stories (this collected from the Charlotte Observer obit):

In "Slaughterhouse-Five," Vonnegut introduced the recurring character of Kilgore Trout, his fictional alter ego. The novel also featured a signature Vonnegut phrase.

"Robert Kennedy, whose summer home is eight miles from the home I live in all year round," Vonnegut wrote at the end of the book, "was shot two nights ago. He died last night. So it goes.

"Martin Luther King was shot a month ago. He died, too. So it goes. And every day my Government gives me a count of corpses created by military science in Vietnam. So it goes."

One of many Zen-like words and phrases that run through Vonnegut's books, "so it goes" became a catchphrase for opponents of the Vietnam war.

Expect to hear that phrase from me in the next weeks.

BabyDaddy revealed: You may now resume your regularly scheduled lives

I don't often stray to celebrity topics, but Boy, howdy, I wish I'd written this (I certainly thought it...)

From Miki Turner at MSNBC:

Baby daddy revealed! Can we stop caring now?

[Anna Nicole Smith's] life was one long sad joke, which is why I now believe that these have to be the last days that John prophesied about in the Book of Revelation. The world is in turmoil and we’re a nation that allowed ourselves to be caught up in Smith’s web of absurdity for far too long.

There’s something terribly amiss in the universe when you realize that the deaths of heads of state, Civil Rights and religious leaders have received less coverage than the drug-induced passing of Smith. The collective contributions of John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Mother Theresa and even Anne Frank are far more important than the news of who Dannielynn’s father is.

Right?

And while I am always sorry to hear the news of anyone’s death, the initial reports of Smith’s passing from an overdose of prescription meds was more stunning than sorrowful. The sadness didn't hit me until I realized that I didn't really care that she had died. I didn't care about how broken-hearted she must have been after losing her son Daniel. I didn't care that she had issues with her mother and I had almost stopped caring that her daughter would grow up without a mother.

The massive coverage had rendered me emotionally bankrupt.

I do care, however, that more Americans have died in Iraq. I care that more people have fallen off cruise ships and that legendary Grambling football coach Eddie Robinson has died during a time when thousands of African American boys could benefit from his guidance. I care that there are only eight more episodes of “The Sopranos” left. I am troubled by the facts that President Bush is still in office, that people are still being slaughtered in Darfur and that Elizabeth Edwards has incurable cancer.

And I care that in 2007 someone would have the audacity to “jokingly” call anyone a “nappy-headed ho” and think that it’s funny.

I wish I did care that Larry Birkhead will now know the joys of fatherhood. But unlike what is going on with Imus, I think this whole DNA debacle is truly funny. Isn't it hilarious that everyone in the world now knows his name because he used to have sex with Anna Nicole Smith? He’s like the Kato Kaelin of his generation. And isn't it even more amusing that there’s probably no end in sight to this ongoing saga?

The Kato Kaelin of his generation -- that's brilliant! Now to explain all this to Zsa Zsa's husband.

And yes, you can stop caring now (assuming you ever started.)

Holy Week 2007: Easter Sunday

(See 2006 post.)

Arrived at the Chapel 8:01 AM; the first worshippers arrived before 8:10 AM (Mass starts at 9 AM-ish.) No one, no one familiar with our Parish arrives more than 15 minutes ahead of time. The Chapel was full for Mass; lots and lots of folks we didn't recognize. Padre encouraged those who "only visit us once or twice a year" to consider joining our community. Pretty gutsy to acknowledge the C&E's.

More incense and lilies, no headache today. Yay, again.

We had two guitars (one guitarist sang) and two treble voices this morning. We sang almost exactly the same music as 2006; we ended with "The Strife is O'er." Once again, I was privileged to sing the Victimae Paschali with one of my favorite tenors.

Today was my 8th day in a row singing at/with the Parish. It's been busy and fun and I'll have a great soundtrack in my head the next few weeks.

Lunch afterwards at the Dell's. Great food, friends, fellowship.

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As Easter ends, and I'm typing it all up, we're watching "Barabbas" on TCM. Billed as "The motion picture that begins where the other big ones leave off," it stars Anthony Quinn as Barabbas, who apparently cannot die after Jesus took his place on the cross. He's now in Rome, in the gladiator corps with Ernest Borgnine, being taunted by Jack Palance. Gotta be one of the worst "Biblical" Sword and Sandals movies ever. Great bad...

Holy Week 2007: Holy Saturday

(See 2006 post)

Headache gone (!) (Imitrex --> all day nap) and allergy meds once again held out for the duration against lilies and incense. I was more fortunate than others; there was lots of sneezing and coughing in all of the incensed services this weekend.

Unlike previous years with warm Carolina spring weather, the temperature was in the low 40's by the start of the Vigil. Folks threw jackets and coats over "Easter dresses" & suits as we assembled by the new fire. I'd put a couple of old palm crosses in before the fire was lit -- adding their energy to the light of the Christ candle.

In addition to singing the "Song of Miriam" (rousing duet) and "Lord, You have the words of everlasting life" (solo), I also got to read the opening OT reading (Genesis 1:1-2:2.) "In the beginning" at the beginning (after the Exulset, of course...) Yay.

We had a small RCIA class this year -- 4 candidates for full communion and one elect. It was quite dramatic and moving to watch our elect slowly, very slowly, add water to her baptismal font as we sang "Come to the Water."

Sometimes institutional memory is a very good thing: Everything that needed to happen happened, even with a few errors in the program. We just adjusted as needed.

We sang the Becker Litany for the first time--very pretty. In the category of minor miracles, I would include the discovery that a young lady who has sung this several times before showed up just as we were discovering that we needed another experienced voice. It was lovely.

I decided to take the lesson of "when in Rome" (see below) that I heard clearly at Fire at the Beach in 2005. I'm still not fond of "Lord of the Dance," but our Padre is and so I sang along with the rest of the choir this year on all the verses.

Home just after midnight -- I skipped the IHOP breakfast outing so as to be back at the Chapel at 8 AM.

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Posted at Open Book in December 2005, as part of a "What Did You Hear?" thread that addressed common complaints about music in the liturgy:

One reason it took our family so long to swim the Tiber was a recognition of what so many commenters have said--there's a lot of not-so-good-music out there in Catholic churches, especially when compared with what one can hear at larger Protestant churches. I don't think that this is just because of lack of trained musicians, or constantly changing alternatives in the annually revised songbooks from OCP, etc. I think that there is also less of a tradition of congregational singing--the full-voiced, multi-part, deeply-felt singing that one would hear for "A Mighty Fortress" or "Wonderful Grace of Jesus" or lots of the Fanny Crosby songbook. Maybe even for "Go Tell It On The Mountain"? I see plenty of Catholics sitting in pews week after week, not singing anything!

I get to hear Michael Dubriel speak on "Developing a Spirituality of the Eucharist" this past fall at a Eucharistic Conference in SC. One of his themes was "When in Rome..." and it addressed complaining and criticizing what you see and hear in church, rather than looking for ways to focus on the essentials--we are being presented with Jesus-body, blood, soul and divinity! He didn't say to ignore abuses or to not strive to improve what can be fixed, but I really appreciated Michael's
reminder that we are not there to be entertained. To get the most out of the Eucharist, we must bring ourselves to God and be prepared to put aside anything that seems to rival God in importance.

Holy Week 2007: Good Friday

(See 2006 post)

2nd day with the headache--not going away with the lower strength stuff.

Full Chapel, including larger than usual choir for the 3 PM Service of the Lord's Passion.

Music was nearly the same as last year--we did get to sing O Sacred Head (I think...memories fade after 55 hours...)

During the veneration of the Cross, I found myself tearing up as I watched people I've grown to love expressing their profound reverence for the Cross.

In an example of "the great bell curve of life" (one of my boss's favorite expressions), I experienced in the same service both joy and irritation. I've never raised children, but I've watched parents for years and I recognize when parents are and are not attempting to quiet noisy children in church. From what I could see from the choir vantage point, no one tried much of anything to quiet a very, very talkative toddler--not at any point in the readings, homily, communion rite, etc.

Why bother blogging on this and risk the wrath of parents? I want to be sure to remember the promptings I received in the midst of the frustration: to check my Pharisee hat at the door. Always a good idea.

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Home for a lite meal, then back for a Tenebrae service in the evening. This is the 3rd year I have gotten to sing "The Lord is my Light and my Salvation" with the woman who leads music at the weekly vigil Mass. Our voices work well together and I really enjoyed the opportunity to harmonize with someone whose strong voice could carry the melody.

From an email I sent to a student earlier in the week (general info on Tenebrae and then a description of what happens at our Parish):

A Tenebrae service begins in a well-lighted sanctuary, which gradually becomes darker as lights are turned off, candles are extinguished, and the outside light fades after sunset. A Good Friday Tenebrae service is meant to evoke the increasing darkness and despair felt by the disciples after the crucifixion while Jesus lay in the tomb.

At our Parish, there will be some readings, some responsorial Psalms and some Psalm prayers, prayed as they are in the Liturgy of the Hours. Every so often, with a solemn drum accompaniment, a dancer will approach the candles placed in front of the altar and extinguish one. She will then run back into the shadows, as the disciples left Jesus one by one during the Crucifixion. The Christ candle is usually carried from the room last--symbolizing Jesus' death and burial.

When the room is entirely dark, there is a period of waiting, followed by a loud crash. The crash is meant to symbolize the power of Christ breaking the bonds of sin and death. The Christ candle is returned to the room, showing us the hope of the resurrection that we will celebrate at the Easter vigil the next night. All of us leave by the light of that single candle.

My memory was a bit faulty -- the dancers retreat more slowly (they don't run), but I still see their actions as being those of the disciples. Our actions, should we choose to be honest.

The talented cantor that I mentioned last year, back for a bit, was a delightful addition to the evening.

We left the Chapel in the dark, preparing to enter it in the same state Saturday night.

Dinner here with an engaged couple from the Parish. Izzy cooked fish, which was served with grits & salad; we also had the lovely brie with onion confit.

Holy Week 2007: Holy Thursday

I re-read last year's summaries of our Liturgies and services, and thought I'd post for this year.

Holy Thursday 2007 (see 2006 post)

Very little different in the music for this Mass, or most of the other services this weekend, for that matter. This is my 3rd (I think) Holy Week singing with the 11 AM choir--so I've about learned how they do each of the songs.

Highlight: as always, the bells.

I had a bit of a headache during Mass, so I don't know if that, familiarity with the music, fatigue or something else interfered, but I didn't experience the overwhelming emotions that I have in previous Holy Thursday liturgies. That's when I am so grateful for the Truth that supersedes emotions, grateful that the power of the Eucharist does not rely on my experience of it.

Paraphrasing a theme from Evangelical Is Not Enough (Thomas Howard), "How was Mass?" is the wrong focus. There WAS Mass and Christ again became truly present to us.

Dinner afterwards with a delightful group of (mostly) younger adults from the Parish.

Holy Thursday in the Hospital

S2's daughter (S2D2) arrived at her house with one of our great nephews* Thursday morning. S2 had felt badly for 3 days, headache, nausea leading to lack of appetite, making headache worse, etc. Thursday, she was staggering around the house and (1) hit her head on the wall and (2) fell (not necessarily in that order.) Daughter called 911 and Sis was transported to local ER.

One call to S3, and the family phone tree was activated. Amazingly, the person hardest to reach was our Mom, who was actually working a volunteer shift in the same hospital where we were.

Not impressed with the history taken by the ER doc. I'd comment on the physical examination, except -- oh, yes -- no one did one! (Not even rudimentary ophthalmic!) I saw an MD make a snap judgement based on the first thing my sister said, and then act very dismissively towards her the rest of the time she was there. I personally might not have relied on the "testimony" of someone whose pain level was so obviously acute and intense. He started in immediately on a lecture about use of the ER (EMS opted to transport; if they thought this was serious enough, then don't give the patient a lecture. Especially, don't talk about the health care system to someone who cannot stop moaning and who cannot give sensible answers to questions...) No chance to give family input...

CAT scan was negative, and I'm hoping a neurology referral can uncover what was happening.

Anyhow, as I think about this a few days later, I'm struck by how often my behavior or judgements mirror those of the ER doc -- rapid, firm, unchangeable. I think folks are bright enough to figure out the conclusions I'm drawing -- I'd hate to have to write yet another sermon to myself.
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Side note: I got a bit dehydrated in the very warm ER room. This triggered a headache that I couldn't completely shake until Saturday. I know it affected some of my perceptions of Holy Week services. Descriptions will follow this post.

* S2GS2? I'll have to figure out how to indicate grand kids now that my siblings have them.

Sniffle City

What do these dots have in common? If you've read about the rankings from the Allergy and Asthma Foundation of America, these are the Spring Allergy Capitals of the US. Apparently, this group ranks the "100 most challenging places to live with allergies in the spring and fall seasons." Rankings are based on pollen grains (counted how?), allergy medicine use and numbers of board-certified allergists per patient (letting the free market confirm what we see when we step outside--it's yellow out there!)

I have lived in both of this year's top two cities: Tulsa and Dallas. In neither city did my car look like this:



Pause, while Izzy reminds me that in one city I had a beige Mustang and in the other I bought a blue Hyundai. (End pause.)

The Capitol across the Congaree is ranked 14th this spring, outranked by Charlotte, Atlanta and even Augusta, GA. I think those folks need to come look a bit closer...

Lots of miserable folks out there. Maybe the cold front this weekend will slow down the tree sex and folks can resume breathing.

"It is Fitting" Updated

From a post at New Liturgical Movement, I am directed back to the English translation of Sacramentum Caritatis.

Paragraph 62 has been re-translated to address a concern lots of folks (here & here, for example) raised about the use of Latin in the Mass. It now reads:

The Latin language
62. None of the above observations should cast doubt upon the importance of such large-scale liturgies. I am thinking here particularly of celebrations at international gatherings, which nowadays are held with greater frequency. The most should be made of these occasions. In order to express more clearly the unity and universality of the Church, I wish to endorse the proposal made by the Synod of Bishops, in harmony with the directives of the Second Vatican Council, (182) that, with the exception of the readings, the homily and the prayer of the faithful, it is fitting that such liturgies be celebrated in Latin. Similarly, the better-known prayers (183) of the Church's tradition should be recited in Latin and, if possible, selections of Gregorian chant should be sung. Speaking more generally, I ask that future priests, from their time in the seminary, receive the preparation needed to understand and to celebrate Mass in Latin, and also to use Latin texts and execute Gregorian chant; nor should we forget that the faithful can be taught to recite the more common prayers in Latin, and also to sing parts of the liturgy to Gregorian chant. (184)

It is fitting. No longer "such liturgies could be celebrated in Latin."

As Izzy commented at Mark's:

And frankly, at international gatherings I'm more than ready to "better express the unity and universality of the Church" by leaving behind personal and cultural references in favor of a universal language and form. Isn't this what it means to be Catholic? To be Universal rather than personal?

Something to think about as we enter Holy Week.
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Update 4-3-07 (4+3=7, hmmm)

Izzy posted a response at Fr. Z's (What does the prayer really say?) about a particularly interesting and unfortunate phrasing (& the distributive power of adjectives.)

Basically, as currently worded, divorced and remarried individuals are exhorted to live the lives of lapsed Catholics:

“Yet the divorced and remarried continue to belong to the Church, which accompanies them with special concern and encourages them to live as fully as
possible the Christian life through regular participation at Mass, albeit without receiving communion, listening to the word of God, Eucharistic adoration, prayer, participation in the life of the community, honest dialogue with a priest or spiritual director, dedication to the life of charity, works of penance, and commitment to the education of their children.”

So, these folks SHOULD come to Mass, but SHOULD NOT receive Communion, listen to the Word of God, participate in adoration, etc... They don't even have to educate their own children! I sense a need for a couple of do-overs in the translation...

Perfect Palm Crosses

I'll keep this on top during Holy Week for a couple of days, repeated from last year. Follow this link for easy, step-by-step, illustrated directions for making Palm Crosses.

I'm planning to bring my old ones from previous years back on Holy Saturday and place them into the "new fire" lit before the Vigil.

Roundball

We're watching the end of the NCAA men's championship game. My pick to win it all (Florida) is maintaining a 7-11 point lead in the 2nd half. I'll likely still have 8th to 10th place in the competition with friends from NC, but at least I won't be dead last.

Ohio State has a player that just seems wrong for NCAA level play. Click here, and ask yourself if this is the face of a freshman... He just seems like some sort of 30-year old, especially next to the rest o the kids on the court. I'm likely watching his last college game, as with several other of these guys. (Pic of Oden in high school.)

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And now Florida has repeated as National Champs 84-75, showing the value of staying in school (OK, the value to some incredibly talented guys.)

Can't wait until October, when we start all this all over again.

Bury the Dead

"Bury the dead" is the last in the list of the Corporal Works of Mercy. Based on Matthew 25, this list of evidences for our faith is aimed at the body.

• Feed the hungry;
• Give drink to the thirsty;
• Clothe the naked;
• Harbor the harborless; (or Shelter the homeless)
• Visit the sick;
• Ransom the captive; (or Visit the imprisoned)
• Bury the dead.

Tonight we had a chance to participate in this last work of mercy. One of our parishioners died last Sunday AM. He had just walked up what many of us call "Heart Attack Hill", and he had a massive heart attack right in front of our Student Center. Our Padre, a nurse and two physicians (from Benin) did CPR and revived him, but he died either en route to or upon arrival at the hospital.

His family traveled in from Puerto Rico and we had the funeral Mass this evening. (He'll actually be buried back in Puerto Rico next week.) Izzy and I didn't really know him, but we knew that it would be important to have people from the Parish there to support those family and friends who had traveled so far.

When I arrived a bit early, Padre asked if I would be willing to read, if the family hadn't arranged for a reader. Certainly. Oh, and by the way, could I sing the Gospel acclamation? (No musician had been arranged for...) Sure. Maybe lead Amazing Grace in the entrance procession? I asked and was told: Yes, it would be nice if the Responsorial Psalm were sung, and OK, let's do a post-Communion song (I picked a bi-lingual one.)

Until the Sunday after Katrina, I don't know that I would have ever considered singing not just lead, but accapella lead. I recognized tonight that singing was a good way to give the gift of music (turns out that music was really important to this man) to a grieving family. Folks sang along with everything, including all the verses of the Responsorial Psalm.

Izzy and I have helped honor the dead by holding flags at service member's funerals. (& here, & here.) Tonight I got to help with final rites--as close as I might come to actually burying the dead.

A special Holy Week gift for both of us.

Angel, requiescas in pace.

April Fools Day

So the alarm goes off this morning at 6:50 and I cannot seem to get up (worse than usual, if that's possible.) It's just sooo dark outside. I figured it must be overcast. I was worried that Izzy wouldn't awaken, so I reminded him how dark it was when I kissed hm goodbye at 7:45.

I grabbed my cup o'cereal and headed out the door to drive to church. I need to be at the Chapel at 8 AM to practice music and warm-up for the 9 AM Mass. Had to turn the lights on. My goodness it's darker than usual out here! I turned on NPR (Sumter SC station) to help me gauge the time on the drive, and I didn't hear "On the Media." "Living on Earth" is playing. The car clock says 6:47. So does the pager. So does the cell phone.

In my morning confused state, I briefly entertained the thought that Izzy had decided to pull an April Fools' Day joke on me. Pretty clever he was (!)--changing the alarm clock to get me up and out of the house an hour early. I was fairly certain, as I contemplated heading back home, that the correct time was about to be 7 AM and not 8 AM. (It was too early for me to be completely sure.) Finally, I heard a promo for a program "coming up this morning at 7."

Waking me up at 5:50 in the AM? What sort of an April Fools joke is that?

And then I remembered something else that might cause an alarm clock to advance the time ahead (aka "spring forward") on the first Sunday in April. Hmmmmm, I'll have to account for that little "feature" 4 times a year now, until we replace the alarm clock.

Back home, quick power nap, back in the car for Palm Sunday.