The Natalist Diaries

CatholicPhoenix.com

2010-09-08T23:08:00.004-07:00

I'm posting every couple of weeks at a great new, local Catholic blog called Catholic Phoenix. Here's a link to my latest post.

Happy Fother's Day

2010-06-30T09:48:00.002-07:00

Below is a scan of the "Fother's Day" card Francesca gave to my grandfather (her Grand Pepere). How would you like to get a card like this one?

Everybody (except my grandfather and Francesca) thought this was hilarious.

Poor girl, she was just trying to be sweet.

Olivia Publishes Her first Book

2010-06-09T15:12:00.003-07:00

The title of Olivia's new book is Sophia and Joseph Get a Whole Can, but Olivia Gets a Half Cup by Olivia Drapeau.

I think it's brilliant.

Gemma's Birthday

2009-12-11T20:54:00.004-07:00

Here is what we're doing about overpopulation.

Once again, my wife has borne me the world's most beautiful daughter.

Gemma Noelle Drapeau came into the world at 8:25 PM, December 10, 2009. She weighed 7 lbs, 6 oz and was 18" long. She is fantastico.

We named her after St. Gemma Galgani.

Overpopulation: The Making of a Myth

2009-07-28T22:59:00.000-07:00

Overpopulation: The Making of a Myth

Is 'absolutely' overused? Absolutely! - CNN.com

2009-07-15T09:18:00.000-07:00

Is 'absolutely' overused? Absolutely! - CNN.com

The Phoenix Zoo - Otter Man

2009-05-18T16:15:00.001-07:00

Here is an abbreviated version of a commercial Sophia was in. Cool, eh?

Robertus, Episcopus, et Confirmandus

2009-04-22T21:56:00.005-07:00

Sometimes when I'm out visiting my public, random prelates jump in for a quick photo-op...

Joseph's First Communion

2009-04-20T10:08:00.005-07:00

Joseph was confirmed and received his first communion (at 6:33 PM) on Sunday, April 19, 2009, Divine Mercy Sunday. He was confirmed by Bishop Thomas Olmsted at St. Thomas the Apostle parish. The reading was the one about Doubting Thomas touching the wounds of Christ.

Blessed is the one (like our Joseph) who has not seen yet still believes. The image below by Caravaggio is amazing.

Madonna’s Grammy Award: National Catholic Register

2009-03-10T11:00:00.001-07:00

Madonna’s Grammy Award: National Catholic Register

Posted using ShareThis

Imaginary Good and Evil

2009-02-02T06:27:00.001-07:00

“Imaginary evil is romantic and varied; real evil is gloomy, monotonous, barren, boring. Imaginary good is boring; real good is always new, marvelous, intoxicating.”
--Simone Weil

Beauty Ever Ancient, Ever New

2009-01-31T10:03:00.003-07:00

Late have I loved you,
O Beauty ever ancient, ever new,
late have I loved you!

You were within me, but I was outside,
and it was there that I searched for you.
In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.

You were with me, but I was not with you.
Created things kept me from you;
yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all.

You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness.
You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness.
You breathed your fragrance on me;
I drew in breath and now I pant for you.

I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more.
You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

~ St. Augustine, Confessions of St. Augustine

Honey, Pack Your Things...

2009-01-26T21:32:00.002-07:00

...we're moving to Japan.

Maybe it's their way of making up for all the TV sets (a.k.a. poor man's birth control) they sold.

h/t The Duck

Pollywog in a Bog

2008-12-29T10:10:00.002-07:00

My kids' new favorite song, from one of my favorite bands.

St. Ambrose

2008-12-29T09:23:00.005-07:00

My last post concerned the Immaculate Conception whose feast day is celebrated on my twin's birthday. I've often complained that my sister gets to be associated with the Virgin Mary while I, having been born on December 7, am forever linked to "a day that will live in infamy"--Pearl Harbor Day.

December 7 is also the feast of St. Ambrose, someone I've mocked for having been named, well, Ambrose. My friend Cory insisted that, in spite of his delicate name, Ambrose was in fact a "Bad- A" and bought me a print of a copy of the picture shown here to prove it.

This painting is called "St. Ambrose and the Emperor Theodosius" by Peter Paul Rubens*. It shows Ambrose facing down the Roman Emperor, Theodosius, after he massacred a bunch of women and children in Macedonia. St. Ambrose denied the emperor entry to the cathedral at Milan and refused to lift the emperor's excommunication until he made public penance. This might not be a bad policy to adopt with some of our more "ardent Catholic" politicians. . .

Ruben's disciple, Anthony Van Dyck, painted an almost identical painting to this one. It's this copy that I now have a matted and framed print of, thanks to Cory. I would have included it in the post, but the best version I could find had a digital watermark.

*not to be confused with Pee Wee Herman

"More Spacious Than the Heavens"

2008-12-09T12:01:00.002-07:00

Our family had dinner at a Melkite Catholic church on Saturday night. Part of the evening included a tour of the church.

The Melkite Church is in communion with the Roman Catholic Church (they acknowledge the Pope as the head of their Church), but their liturgical traditions come from the East, not the West. Icons figure very prominently in the way they worship, especially icons of Mary, the Theotokos (the “God-bearer”).

The sanctuary of a Melkite church is very different from that of a Latin (Roman) church. Most notably, there is no crucifix behind the altar. Instead there is an icon of Mary similar to the one pictured here.

This type of Marian icon is known as Platytera, which literally means “wider” or “more spacious”. In the Eastern Church, Mary is venerated under the title, Platytera ton ouran. In English, this title is literally “more spacious than the heavens”. Mary is given this title because, unlike the heavens/universe, Mary, the Mother of God, could contain God and did for the nine months leading up to Christmas.

Yesterday was the Feast of the Immaculate Conception and Christmas is only 16 days away. It seems to me to be a fitting time to open our hearts to the one who was “more spacious than the heavens”. In doing so, we also welcome the One she carried within her.

The Saintmakers

2008-12-03T10:54:00.001-07:00

The kids at Boola and Pepere's house. Thanksgiving 2008.

One Little Indian

2008-12-03T10:40:00.001-07:00

Every year at the kids' preschool there is a Thanksgiving "play" put on by the preschoolers. It's the same thing every year. All the kids are divide into groups and deliver lines every time their characters are mentioned.

The narrator tells the story of the first Thanksgiving: there's a preacher ("Praise the Lord!"), pilgrim men ("Ahunting we will go!"), Indian men ("Brave and strong!"), turkeys ("Gobble, gobble, gobble!"), and pilgrim women ("Oh, my goodness!").

This year, our Francesca (nee' Annamaria Francesca) was spectacularly miscast as one of the Indian women concerned with keeping things quiet around their sleeping children ("Shhh! Baby sleeping!").

Cute and cuddly she is, but she couldn't sneak up on a buffalo to save her life.

BTW, the kid is much cuter than the picture.

What's Right With the World

2008-11-06T07:49:00.002-07:00

From GKC via Nancy Brown, etc.

For at present we all tend to one mistake; we tend to make politics too important. We tend to forget how huge a part of a man's life is the same under a Sultan and a Senate, under Nero or St. Louis Daybreak is a never-ending glory, getting out of bed is a never-ending nuisance; food and friends will be welcomed; work and strangers must be accepted and endured; birds will go bedwards and children won't, to the end of the last evening. And the worst peril is that in our just modern revolt against intolerable accidents we may have unsettled those things that alone make daily life tolerable. It will be an ironic tragedy if, more

A Hope Deferred: Justin McRoberts

2008-10-31T12:08:00.001-07:00

I stumbled upon this today. God has a funny way of sending messages...

What's Wrong With the World

2008-10-24T06:13:00.002-07:00

h/t my buddy Scorrahood

‘Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend’

2008-10-08T09:46:00.001-07:00

Justus quidem tu es, Domine, si disputem tecum: verumtamen justa
loquar ad te: Quare via impiorum prosperatur? &c.

THOU art indeed just, Lord, if I contend
With thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just.
Why do sinners' ways prosper? and why must
Disappointment all I endeavour end?

Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend, 5
How wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost
Defeat, thwart me? Oh, the sots and thralls of lust
Do in spare hours more thrive than I that spend,
Sir, life upon thy cause. See, banks and brakes
Now leavèd how thick! lacèd they are again 10
With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind shakes
Them; birds build—but not I build; no, but strain,
Time's eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.
Mine, O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.

--Gerard Manley Hopkins

Look Who's Four!

2008-07-21T11:03:00.002-07:00

Annamaria Francesca turned four last Saturday! Hooray for Kecka!

Hope you can open this

2008-07-15T18:35:00.002-07:00

Max and Papi talking about Boola in Flagstaff. Filmed with my new Palm Centro phone.

Silly Sisters - Geordie

2008-06-26T10:41:00.001-07:00

My foray into bawdy folk music has lead me to the Silly Sisters. This song is performed by June Tabor. I am addicted to it. People are starting to worry about me.

I just want to be referred to as "my dearie" by Amy, is that so wrong? (I also think it'd be cool if she threatened to make the blood flow upon the green if she didn't get her laddie.)

Here are the lyrics, more or less, in "English":

There was a battle in the north,
And nobles there was many,
And they hae kill'd Sir Charlie Hay,
And they laid the wyte on Geordie

O he has written a lang letter,
He sent it to his lady;
Ye maun cum up to Enbrugh town
To see what words o' Geordie.

When first she look'd the letter on,
She was baith red and rosy;
But she had na read a word but twa,
Till she wallow't like a lily,

Gar get to me my gude grey steed,
My menzie a' gae wi' me;
For I shall neither eat nor drink,
Till Enbrugh town shall see me.

And she has mountit her gude grey steed,
Her menzie a' gaed wi' her;
And she did neither eat nor drink
Till Enbrugh town did see her.

And first appear'd the fatal block,
And syrie the aix to head him;
And Geordie cumin down the stair,
And bands o airn upon him.

But tho' he was chain'd in fetters strang,
O airn and steel sae heavy,
There was na ane in a'the court,
Sae bruw a Man as Geordie.

O she's down on her bended knee,
I wat she's pale and weary,
O pardon, pardon, noble king,
And gie me back my Dearie!

Gar bid the headin-man mak haste!
Our king reply'd fu' lordly:
O noble king, tak a'that's mine,
But gie me back my Geordie.

The Gordons cam and the Gordons ran,
And they were stark and steady;
And ay the word amang them a'
Was, Gordons keep you ready.

An aged lord at the king's right hand
Says, noble king, but hear me:
Gar her tell down five thousand pound
And gie her back her Dearie.

Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns,
Some gae her dollars many;
And shes tell'd down five thousand pound,
And she's gotten, again her Dearie.

She blinkit blythe in her Geordie's face,
Says, dear I've bought thee, Geordie:
But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green,
Or I had tint my laddie.

He claspit her by the middle sma',
And he kist her lips sae rosy:
The fairest flower o' woman-kind
Is my sweet, bonie Lady!

Theology of the Bawdy: Amy, Will You Let Me

2008-06-18T12:24:00.003-07:00

Here's a little salt to go with the sweet of the last post...

Amy and I have been watching (and loving) the Sharpe videos starring Sean Bean as Richard Sharpe, a British soldier fighting in the Napoleonic Wars.

One of the best parts of the series is the music. Much of the music is composed and sung by Rifleman Dan Hagman, played by British folk singer John Tams. Tams' voice is amazing and the Napoleonic-era folk songs in the videos are wonderful. A song I particularly liked hearing was "The Spanish Merchant's Daughter" (sometimes called "No, John, No"). It's a bawdy song and I found it charming--so charming that I decided to try my hand at writing my own. What follows is what I came up with.

Imagine it being sung back and forth like "There's a Hole in the Bucket". I'll try to record this one later, too.

p.s. It's not really all that bawdy, but sing it to the tune of Tantum Ergo if you long for the thrill of scandal...

Amy, Will You Let Me?

Robert: See that girl there? Her name’s Amy—
She looks nice in panty hose.
I would like to have a look-see
Just how high them hoses goes.

Oh, Amy will you let me
see how high them hoses goes?

Amy: Yes, my Love, on one provision—
You must do just what I say.
Robert: But of course, dear. What’s my mission?
Amy: Wait until our wedding day.

Oh, Robert, patient Robert,
Wait until our wedding day.

Robert: Surely, Love you must be teasing—
what an unkind thing to speak!
Can you not just once appease me?
I will marry you next week.

Oh, Amy, will you let me?
I will marry you next week.

Amy: Since, my Love, you asked so sweetly,
You can see how high they go.
I’ll remove my hose completely--
Put them on and you will know!

Oh, Robert, patient Robert
Put them on and you will know.

Theology of the Body: Max's Song

2008-06-18T11:58:00.003-07:00

I wrote a song this morning for my son, Max.

I wanted to express the idea that he is an unmitigated blessing to our family and that he is the result of our fruitful love. He's an absolute delight and everybody's favorite. The first two verses are sung to him as if he still in the womb. Verse three is after he's been born.

The "crying and the laughter" mentioned in the second verse is a reference to this. Olivia ("Ala" to Max) has since gotten over the fact that he's not a girl and Joseph is still especially fond of him because sisters can be wearying.

I'll put up a recording here once I figure out how to do it.

Max's Song
Verse 1:
Baby, do you know
That you are something special?
Even if you don’t,
I’m here to tell you truly,
That you are being waited
for with eagerness and joy,
The long anticipated
baby brother for our boy.

Chorus:
You were made by Love,
Conceived in love,
You were made for love,
We love you, Boy

You were made by Love,
Made for love,
And we welcome you with joy.

Verse 2:

Baby, can you hear
The crying and the laughter?
Just wait till you appear—
It’s silence you’ll be after.
The home you’re coming into
Is filled with kids and toys,
It’ll take some getting used to
Though, especially the noise.

Chorus

Verse 3:
Baby, can you see
Now that we’re together,
Now that you are here we
All love a little better?
You’re bringing out the best in us
It’s such a great surprise
To see our family’s happiness
Increase before our eyes.

Chorus

Happy Feast Day, Olivia!

2008-06-10T08:56:00.005-07:00

When the little girl with the intoxicating smile pictured on the left was born, I quipped that the family martini finally got its olive. My mother-in-law thought I was being flippant. Then she realized I was just being unfunny. Anyway, today is one of the many days that we celebrate around here because today is the feast of Blessed Olivia.

Below is her entry on catholic.com's website. I don't know exactly how much about this Blessed is "pious fictional legend", but we're going to celebrate anyway. Our little lady does some pretty unbelievable stuff herself, so maybe it's something that goes with the name...

Bl. Olivia
Feastday: June 10

Olivia is a derivative of Olive whose feast day is June 10th. According to pious fictional legend, she was a beautiful girl of thirteen, of a noble Palermo, Italy, family who was carried off to Tunis by raiding Moslems. They allowed her to live in a nearby cave but when they found that her miracles and cures had converted many Mohammedans, she was imprisoned, tortured, and after converting her executioners trying to burn her to death, was beheaded.

When I read that entry to her, Olivia thought it was pretty cool. She said, "It's like the olive tree gets its head chopped off when it gets cut down." That's our Olivia. Very serious, very grave. She is the polar opposite of Sophia in that she has a pretty strong morbid streak. She's always asking to see gruesome things. Once she made us TiVo surgeries just so she could decide if she wanted to be a doctor. (She'd make an excellent doctor or nurse--she always takes care of her siblings and parents when they fall ill.)

Lately, Liva has been sleep walking. She wakes up completely distressed and comes to us muttering "it's just hard...it's just hard." We don't know if she's dreaming about math or Goldilocks' first mattress--maybe she's contemplating the challenges of converting the Mohammedans--but it's pretty entertaining.

On a side note, I can't believe how beautiful this kid is (the picture doesn't do her justice). Even when she's completely delirious, she looks gorgeous. I fully intend to send the names of any of her potential suitors to the vocations directors of multiple religious orders. I'm not sure I can part with her.

Smithlings

2008-05-29T08:55:00.004-07:00

My two college roommates and I meet once a month for a group we call the Innocence Smiths (named after a Chesterton character, Innocent Smith, from Manalive, which you are commanded to read).

Last Sunday, we got our families together. We thought we'd call it a Smithlings meeting.

Here are some pictures from that event.

Help Me Write a Song

2008-05-16T11:26:00.005-07:00

I started writing a song this morning when Sophia was complaining about a stain on her pants. Basically, I told her that nobody really cares about her pants--the world is too narsissistic to notice your pimple. Anyway, I ad libbed something great and, unfortunately, unrepeatable. So, I'm enlisting your help. I'll give you the verses I remember and the chorus (which can be modified) and you go at it.

The main thing I want to capture is that the world is upside down. Right now I'm approaching it as a song that gives advice on how to live in our world from different people's perspectives. But there's also the voice of reason. Help me figure it out.

FYI, the song is no longer for Sophia ( it's playing out too mature for her). At some point I want to work in a line about humanity entering an insanity plea at the Last Judgment.

Welcome to the World You Live In
Chorus:
Welcome to the world you live in
it's broken, but at least it's spinning
we're stuck with it, there are no trade-ins
so we make due, with what we've got

The Workaholic
You've got to wake in the morning
When the neighborhood is still snoring
If you want to get ahead,
get started while your friends are in bed

The secret to increase your pay,
is only to work half a day:
12 hours and then you can play
with the toys from the sweat of your face

CHORUS

The Voice
Look at the folks in all these homes-es
They're trying to keep up with the Jones-es
they're (jokes/living dead), and they'll soon be bones-es
That's not the life for you

CHORUS

The Sexual Revolutioniary
My advice? If it feels good do it.
Don't think twice, if you want to, screw it
Hey, I don't think that Eve blew it,
She was bold. She made a choice.

Who says there's a master plan
that requires me to keep a man?
I'm happy just the way I am
go to hell if you think that I'm sad

CHORUS

The Voice
We give the Pill to all our women,
They're equal now, but who we kiddin?
Their "partners" know they can bed 'em and leave 'em
Alone and bitter and used.

We worship youth, but we kill our babies,
deny the truth and embrace the maybes,
Our sainted dead, we treat like crazies,
meanwhile the War rages on.

CHORUS

That's what I have so far. Feel free to suggest other advice-givers and more from the Voice. In my head it's a little Jamaican-sounding so if that helps, use it.

Why I Love My WIfe

2008-05-16T11:15:00.002-07:00

This little email tells you a lot about Mrs. Drapeau.

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Rob and Amy Drapeau <drapeau@mac.com>
Date: Fri, May 16, 2008 at 10:38 AM
Subject: Fwd: Enlightening
To: Rob Drapeau <rdrapeau@gmail.com>

we need to pray for this guy.

love you baby, and our punishments -

Begin forwarded message:

Obama and Abortion
Is the Democratic Frontrunner Most Pro-Abortion Ever?
BY TOM MCFEELY
WASHINGTON — Veteran Democrat David Carlin knows what he's going to do if Illinois Sen. Barack Obama becomes his party's presidential nominee.
He's going to vote for the presumptive Republican nominee, Arizona Sen. John McCain.
"Any Catholic who takes the abortion issue seriously will not vote for Obama," said Carlin, who served as majority leader of the Rhode Island Senate in 1989-90.
Pro-life leaders describe Obama — who is now the heavy favorite to defeat New York Sen. Hillary Clinton for the Democratic presidential nomination — as the most pro-abortion presidential candidate in American history.
"Based on his record he appears to be the most pro-abortion candidate ever to seek the presidency," said David O'Steen, executive director of the National Right to Life Committee. "It's hard to be more pro-abortion than Hillary Clinton, but he seems to have managed to do that."
Obama has promised that his first act as president would be to sign the Freedom of Choice Act, a bill that if enacted would prevent any federal, state or local government entity from restricting access to abortion. O'Steen said this indicates that to Obama, "the most important thing facing America is to promote abortion."
Both Clinton and Obama currently have 100% ratings from NARAL for their pro-abortion voting records in the U.S. Senate. But unlike Clinton, Obama has opposed legislation to protect babies who are born alive following unsuccessful abortions.
In 2002, Clinton voted in favor of the federal Born-Alive Infants Protection Act, which was approved unanimously by the U.S. Senate. Obama was not sworn in as a U.S. Senator until 2005, but he opposed similar state legislation in 2001 while serving as an Illinois state senator.
Obama argued against such legislation specifically on the grounds that it might undermine the right to abortion-on-demand throughout pregnancy.
"Whenever we define a pre-viable fetus as a person that is protected by the Equal Protection Clause or the other elements in the Constitution, what we're really saying is, in fact, that they are persons that are entitled to the kinds of protections that would be provided to a — a child, a 9-month old — child that was delivered to term," Obama warned during debate over three state bills that would have offered protection to babies who are born alive after unsuccessful abortions. "That determination then, essentially, if it was accepted by a court, would forbid abortions to take place."
Former U.S. Senator Rick Santorum (R-Pa.) is scathing in his assessment of Obama's opposition to born-alive legislation.
"That's pretty doctrinaire — that's about as pro-death as you can get on the abortion issue," said Santorum. "He's a candidate who is not just for abortion, but also for infanticide in order to protect the right to abortion."
Santorum said Obama is continuing to affirm his embrace of abortion on the campaign trail. He cited remarks the candidate made at a March 29 town hall meeting in Johnstown, Pa.
At that meeting, in response to a question about sex education for children, Obama argued in favor of educating young children about using contraceptives.
"Look, I've got two daughters, nine years old and six years old," Obama said. "I am going to teach them first of all about values and morals. But if they make a mistake, I don't want them punished with a baby."
Said Santorum, "To view a child as a punishment, under any circumstances, to me shows that this is not a man who values life, who respects the dignity of human life."
Obama's campaign office did not reply to questions about his position on abortion and other life issues that the Register submitted by e-mail.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that a child has a right to be considered as a gift, now as a punishment:
"A child is not something owed to one, but is a gift. … A child may not be considered a piece of property, an idea to which an alleged 'right to a child' would lead. In this area, only the child possesses genuine rights … [including] the right to be respected as a person from the moment of his conception" (No. 2378).
Judges
O'Steen said Obama's position on life issues is a stark contrast to McCain's. He noted that McCain has a 100% pro-life record on abortion in the U.S. Senate, has voted against a Senate resolution to express support for Roe v. Wade and has stated that he believes Roe should be reversed, supports parental notification and opposes the use of taxpayer funds to facilitate abortion.
Perhaps the most significant difference between Obama and McCain is their position on judicial appointments. Obama has indicated that if elected president he intends to make it a top priority to nominate pro-abortion judges.
In contrast, in a speech May 6 at Wake Forest University, McCain pledged to nominate only lawyers with "a proven commitment to judicial restraint." He attacked Obama's "judicial activism" and was
particularly critical of the Democratic candidate for voting against the confirmation of Chief Justice John Roberts and Justice Samuel Alito.
While McCain did not refer directly to abortion in his speech, opposition among Senate Democrats to the Roberts and Alito nominations centered largely on fears that if confirmed, the two judges might overturn Roe v. Wade and other federal decisions supporting abortion rights.
Said McCain, "Somehow, by Sen. Obama's standard, even Judge Roberts didn't measure up. And neither did Justice Samuel Alito. Apparently, nobody quite fits the bill except for an elite group of activist judges, lawyers, and law professors who think they know wisdom when they see it — and they see it only in each other."
In response to the speech, Obama's campaign said McCain would nominate judges who would threaten abortion rights, Associated Press reported May 6.
"What's truly elitist is to appoint judges who will protect the powerful and leave ordinary Americans to fend for themselves," said Obama spokesman Tommy Vietor.
Santorum, who earlier in the campaign cycle was critical of McCain's pro-life commitment primarily because the Arizona senator does not oppose embryonic stem-cell research, said McCain's speech "was a home run from my perspective."
Said Santorum,"It hit all the salient points, and it should give a lot of comfort to pro-lifers."
Paying the Piper
Carlin predicted that Obama "would certainly" apply a pro-abortion litmus test on all judicial appointments if elected.
And Carlin said abortion is only one of a number of areas where Obama, even more than Clinton, is advancing positions that appeal primarily to the most liberal elements of the Democratic Party.
"His support is among the secularist wing of the Democratic Party," said Carlin, who teaches sociology and philosophy at the Community College of Rhode Island. "He's beholden to that wing of the party, the most extreme wing of the party, the "moral left" of the party. And if they put him in office, you know, 'he who pays the piper calls the tune.'"
Added Carlin, "So I think if he gets elected as president, it's going to be a very, very bad time for pro-life Catholics."

Mother's Day

2008-05-15T10:09:00.003-07:00

My mother-in-law doesn't like Mother's Day. I think she resents the fact that the greeting card industry has made it too easy to neglect one's mother for 364 days of the year and still feel good about yourself as long--as you buy mom a box of chocolates, brunch, and, of course, a greeting card on one Sunday in May. I think she has a point.

Honoring one's mother and father is not optional. It's a full time gig. And, as unpleasant and difficult as it can be, we've got to do it. In fact, we're commanded to do it. So the notion that we can neglect our parents all year and then make good on one particular day seems pretty feeble to me. I don't have time to explore the reasons for this mindset--we can also see it at work in CAPE Catholics* and dying Rockafellers--but I'll say I think it's indicative of a particularly American, materialistic view of the world, which is a species of the sin of presumption.

I resent Mother's Day because it's just another way the Market tries to sell you something you can, and should, do for free. It smacks of formula companies selling their product to third world mothers.

BUT, there's something to be said for feast days and it should be obvious that that's what Mother's Day is--a secular feast day. Just as the therapist's couch replaced the confessional, Mother's Day is an attempt to fill the void in our lives from not having feast days. In a sense, it's a move in the right direction. It demonstrates our profound need for ritual and celebration. At our house, we're always inventing reasons to feast. We celebrate birthdays, baptismal days, saints days, the dogs' birthdays, whatever. It's wonderful; it gives the kids a sense of the gratuitousness of the world.

I have to go now...I'll try to revisit this topic again. Meanwhile, post some comments, start a discussion.

Peace!

*Christmas Ash Wednesday Palm Sunday Easter

Sophia's First Communion and Confirmation

2008-05-15T09:30:00.008-07:00

One of the many things that I've neglected to write about is my daughter Sophia's First Communion and Confirmation. She received both sacraments on April 26th, 2008. She was so beautiful and so excited, it was truly inspiring.

I'm thrilled that our bishop has lowered the age of Confirmation. As a former high school teacher, I can confirm that our young people need as much grace as they can get. Going into adolescence equipped for battle just makes sense to me.

The ceremony was pretty funny. The Dean, Fr. Chuck (who confirmed the children on behalf of Bishop Olmsted) had such a hard time getting decent answers from the kids when he questioned them that I wanted to ask him how long he had been in dentistry.

"What do we receive when we're confirmed? Bobby?"
"The gift of Confirmation!"
"Good, Bobby, but when we get the gift of Confirmation what do we get?"
"Confirmed!"

It went on like that forever. He finally got them to start listing the gifts of the Holy Spirit and some were dubious. I don't think St. Paul mentioned the gift of Niceness.

Sophia chose St. Josephine Bakhita as her confirmation name. Here's what she wrote about her on the prayer cards we made as party favors:

St. Josephine Bakhita was born in the Sudan, captured by slave traders at
age 10, and lived most of her life as a slave. She was tortured severely—beaten, burned and forced to work very hard. Despite all of this, she saw the wonderful works around her and wondered what master could have made them.

Although she did not know the name of God, Bakhita always knew He existed. She was sold many times and eventually ended up with nuns in Italy. It was there that she learned the name of God: Jesus Christ, her "Good Master." She was so happy to know Him that she served Him with her life. She forgave her kidnappers and torturers and had great love for everyone she met.

I chose St. Josephine to be my confirmation Saint because of her bravery, her
longing to know Jesus, and her great love for Him.

St. Josephine Bakhita, pray for us!

Heigh ho, Snappy!

2008-05-14T10:50:00.003-07:00

I feel like I have to reacquaint myself with my readers (both of them) because I haven't written in such a long time. There really is no excuse for not writing, especially since I'm supposed to be a writer/wordsmith (at least that's what is says on my business cards). The truth is, I'm a lot like this guy, and well, that's just sad. Nevertheless, the secret to success is getting up one more time than you fall off, so here I am, back on the turtle again.

My hero says if a thing's worth doing, it's worth doing badly. Ultimately, I think this blog is worth doing: my life is pretty interesting, my kids are pretty funny, my wife is pretty, and I'm a pretty good writer, so I might as well keep going. I just want everyone to have real low expectations. I'm too tired to wring the life lessons out of the unwashed loads of laundy laying around our house--I have a hard enough time putting on pants before I go to work in the morning.

Happy Feast Day

2008-04-23T06:56:00.001-07:00

Today is the feast of Madonna Della Strada, Our Lady of the Way. She is the patroness of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits). I've never heard Mary addressed under this title (despite all my years in Jesuit education).

I had no intention of posting anything today but Karen over at Some Have Hats posted a little blurb about today's feast day and I thought I would, too.

I confess I am charmed by this title. It seems like a very first century name for Mama Mary. I can imagine the Apostles, who referred to the early Church as "the Way", naturally thinking of Mary as the Lady of the Way.

I also think the image of Our Lady of the Way is quite lovely. I might even take to calling Mama Mary "Della". That has a nice ring to it.

h/t Karen

The Distributist Review: A Request To Our Readers

2008-04-08T11:39:00.000-07:00

The Distributist Review: A Request To Our Readers

Easter Break in Mexico

2008-04-01T12:47:00.004-07:00

Easter Photos

2008-03-25T10:16:00.001-07:00

My friend Joseph is a published movie reviewer!!

2008-02-29T11:35:00.001-07:00

Check this out: Obscure Russian Movie review.

Jackie Moon Old Spice Commercials All 8

2008-02-25T06:26:00.002-07:00

Ridiculously funny.

Chesterton on You Tube, part 2

2008-02-11T10:50:00.001-07:00

Chesterton on You Tube

2008-02-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

"Un-freaking believable!!"

2008-02-08T16:11:00.001-07:00

Sent to you by Rob via Google Reader:

"Un-freaking believable!!"

via The Blue Boar by chestertonian on 2/8/08

Well this is stunning. The St. John's Valdosta blog says that chess grand champion Bobby Fischer was familiar with G.K. Chesterton through Dale Ahlquist's book, The Apostle of Common Sense.

According to the blog, when Fischer, who died January 17 in Iceland, was arrested in Japan in 2004 for allegedly attempting to travel on a revoked passport. "San Diego attorney Richard Vattuone, a Catholic, flew to Japan to act as counsel for Fischer. After his release, Fischer emigrated to Iceland." The blog says further:

Vattuone is intrigued by Fischer's final act. "When I met him in Japan, I gave Bobby a book about G.K. Chesterton, The Apostle of Common Sense. The book covered many matters of culture and religion. I know Bobby had read at least some of the book. Chesterton was a convert and the book contained an article about his conversion. We had also discussed religion." While Vattuone makes no claim that he "converted" Fischer, he can't help but wonder if he played some role in moving Fischer towards the Church.

A January 23 article from the Catholic News Agency confirms that Fischer had a Catholic funeral, which he had requested before he died. However, Church officials in Iceland could not confirm if he died a Catholic, though "that doesn't mean he didn't," the CNA article quotes a priest as saying. Fischer was notoriously guarded about his private life.

By a small miracle I just reached Apostle of Common Sense author Dale Ahlquist, who is in Seattle giving a series of lectures, and gave him this news. His calm and measured reaction: "No way!! Un-freaking believable!!" Chaa! This is HUGE!

Yeah, I know that Fischer had some unsavory opinions. Though a Jew, he was known for harboring anti-Semitic opinions and even, I've read, expressed support for the 911 attacks. Reprehensible though that may be, we are all sinners. Has any of us had even a day when we did not play in the muck? And if Bobby Fischer did find solace at the end of his life, the kind of solace that leads to one only place, Chesterton's "ultimate inn," the inn at the end of the world, then let us raise our glasses in joy, and raise a prayer of thanskgiving to Heaven for G.K. Chesterton, who is the Apostle of Common Sense, and yet more prayers for the soul of Bobby Fischer. Checkmate, Professor Lucifer.

And good going, Dale.

EDIT: Robert Kumpel, from whose blog I got the original story on this, also has a comlete article here.

Things you can do from here:

Subscribe to The Blue Boar using Google Reader
Get started using Google Reader to easily keep up with all your favorite sites

Took my lady to a show...

2008-02-06T10:35:00.001-07:00

You, too should go.

Gemini Trumps Cancer

2008-02-05T20:43:00.000-07:00

This is so unbelievably cool.

Happy Birthday to Amy

2008-02-04T10:42:00.000-07:00

I love my wife. Love her. (That's her on the left.)

She's great. She's greater than great--she's super great.

She makes me feel like a s'more. She's just terrific.

Today is her birthday so I bought her the song below on iTunes. Everyone in the whole wide world knows it from the Mac commercials. There are many things to like about the song, but I like it because it's like Amy--delightful and it makes you smile when you think of it.

I dare you not to smile when you hear this song or when you think of Amy. It can't be done.

Advice for Angela

2008-01-30T09:30:00.000-07:00

Angela, one of my co-workers is getting married soon. When her fiance arrived to take her home, Paul--the only other male on staff at St. Max--and I seized the opportunity to pontificate a little about married life.

My advice (to the fiance) was "If you think about it, you're not all that attached to your opinion." I owe my life of bliss to following that proverb, and I don't care who knows it. Consequently, my recommendation to every engaged man is "Surrender. Resistance is futile."

Paul's wisdom was directed toward Angela: "You have three years to train him. If you don't like how is by then, it's your own fault."

Of course, Chesterton, who wrote "Marriage is a duel to the death that no man of honor should refuse," is far more poetical in his advice:

"Every woman has to find out that her husband is a selfish beast, because every man is a selfish beast by the standard of a woman. But let her find out the beast while they are both still in the story of 'Beauty and the Beast.' Every man has to find out that his wife is cross -- that is to say, sensitive to the point of madness: for every woman is mad by the masculine standard. But let him find out that she is mad while her madness is more worth considering than anyone else's sanity."
-- G.K. Chesterton, "Two Stubborn Pieces of Iron" in The Common Man

Angela, may you and John's domestic safari be as wild and fun as mine has been.

HT to Chestertonian at the Blue Boar for the Chesterton quotation.

Fr. John Becker, S.J. (July 9, 1925 – January 19, 2008)

2008-01-29T07:03:00.000-07:00

May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

The first class of my high school career was Fr. John Becker's 6th period English class. Over 20 years later, some of the most influential books of my life are the ones that came from his assigned reading list.

Fr. Becker was my favorite teacher and the best I've ever had. He is likely responsible for whatever writing ability I display and definitely to blame for my love of really, really bad puns.

When we worked together at Brophy, Fr. Becker became a close friend and mentor. He always insisted that the purpose of a Jesuit education was to prepare young people for an "eyeball to eyeball" meeting with Jesus Christ. As a teacher at Brophy, I always did my best to stay true to that ideal. In spite of my many shortcomings, I think I can say that I did that much.

I will always cherish the man who introduced me to Chesterton and nurtured my latent natalist tendencies with stories of Suzie Schmotts and books like Cheaper by the Dozen. I'll write more about Fr. Becker when I'm not like the butcher who backed into the meat grinder--a little behind in my work.

Rest in Peace, Old Priest.

Obituary

Feel Free to Patronize Me

2008-01-23T09:26:00.001-07:00

I would really like to go to this and could use some a$$i$tance getting there...

Volunteer Children

2008-01-18T16:36:00.001-07:00

This woman must be a lost relative of mine.

"Jesus, here is John the Milkman"

2008-01-18T15:22:00.001-07:00

When St. Josemaria was a young parish priest, there was a milkman who entered his Church every morning for a few seconds. "Jesus, here is John the milkman." To the young priest, that prayer seemed simple and beautiful (Weekly Video: 01'21'').

Click Here for the Video

I found this video clip and was charmed by the story. I like how St. Josemaria shounds like heesh lishping.

Olivia's Version of Our Family

2008-01-18T15:21:00.001-07:00

Olivia is quite an artist and has quite an imagination. This image of our "famley" includes a mysterious dark-skinned girl and a dis-armed Joseph ("the better to NOT hurt you with, my dear...").

From left to right the figures are (I think): Mama, Sophia, Baby Max, Black olive Olivia, BANANAMARIA FRANCESCA, Armless Joseph, Beardless Papi.

One Wild Place...

2008-01-16T16:39:00.000-07:00

The Chesterton quotation I have in my header says:

For a plain, hard-working man the home is not the one tame place in the world of adventure. It is the one wild place in the world of rules and set tasks.

This afternoon, Chesterton was proven right yet again.

I came in from my office to get a glass of water and I spied my little Olivia talking to her mother in the hallway. From the waist up Liva was the pretty Catholic school girl I had just brought home from Kindergarten; from the waist down she looked like Eve shortly after the Fall of Man.

Why are you in your underwear?
Because.
Because what?
Because we're having an underwear picnic on the trampoline.
Ah. Of course.

Milady tells me that's also the reason the baby was diaperless and crying when I came in. Thank God we don't live where they actually have Winters...

Chesterton Monologue

2008-01-11T10:11:00.000-07:00

I just saw a link to this on the blog of the American Chesterton Society.

Mancold

2008-01-03T12:54:00.000-07:00

This is pretty funny.

Our Recent Trip to the Zoo

2008-01-02T20:19:00.000-07:00

My cousin Andy and his family came down from Denver to visit over the holidays. We loaded up our 5 kids and his 6 kids and went down to the zoo. Next time we'll have to remember to bring passports because the park rangers almost didn't let us out with some of the more wild kids...

The Star of Bethlehem

2008-01-02T10:00:00.000-07:00

Probably the best Christmas present I received was a DVD about the Star of Bethlehem. Check out the Web site associated with the film. It is a truly amazing video that shows what great lengths God goes to to reveal himself to us.

Here is the link: The Star of Bethlehem

Below is a short promotional video about the DVD.

Grow The Heart of a Man

2008-01-02T09:44:00.000-07:00

Grow The Heart of a Man

Here is a new blog from my friend, Michael. I've got a link to his other blog on the left. He wanted me to pass it on. So, please go check it out.

Lightsaber Battle

2007-12-21T13:48:00.001-07:00

I'm posting this in honor of my son Joseph, who insists lightsabers are real and that I'm just too stingy to buy him one.

What I like about this is that they do many of the things that should have been obvious things to do in a lightsaber duel when you have the Force at your disposal.

You'll see.

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous...

2007-12-18T10:38:00.000-07:00

The Drapeau Men's Family Revue

What Have We Ventured for Christ?

2007-12-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

I have this thought that if Americans weren't afraid of brown skin, Islam could spread through our culture with ease. It's my opinion that Allah and the god of country music are not so different from each other. If the "Good Lord Up in Heaven" could be persuaded to only insist on, say, 5 commandments, and if he could be talked in to letting us love our friends and hate our enemies, we'd have Islam and few Americans would object. At least, that's what I suspect.

I'd love to be wrong, but I won't hold my breath. Another thing that makes me think this way is the fact that, historically, one of the ways Islam spread was by freeing the slaves and pardoning the debtors of their enemies--on the condition that the ex-slave/ex-debtor submit to Islam. With the amount of consumer debt in this country I think we're especially vulnerable on that front. It would add a whole new meaning to filing for bankruptcy. If I'm right that it's basically racism that keeps Americans from giving Islam a foothold, how sad is that? A vice is keeping us "virtuous"?

My friend Matt sent me this excerpt from a sermon given by Cardinal Newman. I think he (Newman) expresses a similar idea. If our faith is merely of the Country Music/American Civil Religion variety have we really risked anything to follow Christ? Remember the old addage: nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"What have we ventured for Christ? What have we given to Him on a belief of His promise? The Apostle said, that he and his brethren would be of all men most miserable, if the dead were not raised. Can we in any degree apply this to ourselves? We think, perhaps, at present, we have some hope of heaven; well, this we should lose of course; but after all, how should we be worse off as to our present condition? A trader, who has embarked some property in a speculation which fails, not only loses his prospect of gain, but somewhat of his own, which he ventured with the hope of the gain. This is the question, What have we ventured? I really fear, when we come to examine, it will be found that there is nothing we resolve, nothing we do, nothing we do not do, nothing we avoid, nothing we choose, nothing we give up, nothing we pursue, which we should not resolve, and do, and not do, and avoid, and choose, and give up, and pursue, if Christ had not died, and heaven were not promised us. I really fear that most men called Christians, whatever they may profess, whatever they may think they feel, whatever warmth and illumination and love they may claim as their own, yet would go on almost as they do, neither much better nor much worse, if they believed Christianity to be a fable. When young, they indulge their lusts, or at least pursue the world's vanities; as time goes on, they get into a fair way of business, or other mode of making money; then they marry and settle; and their interest coinciding with their duty, they seem to be, and think themselves, respectable and religious men; they grow attached to things as they are; they begin to have a zeal {302} against vice and error; and they follow after peace with all men. Such conduct indeed, as far as it goes, is right and praiseworthy. Only I say, it has not necessarily any thing to do with religion at all; there is nothing in it which is any proof of the presence of religious principle in those who adopt it; there is nothing they would not do still, though they had nothing to gain from it, except what they gain from it now: they do gain something now, they do gratify their present wishes, they are quiet and orderly, because it is their interest and taste to be so; but they venture nothing, they risk, they sacrifice, they abandon nothing on the faith of Christ's word."

My Birthday

2007-12-07T08:56:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture of some of the loot I got for not dying last year. The stuff on the left side of the table is from my kids: 2 Jiffy Pop popcorns, a single chocolate chip cookie, 3 previously-owned figurines in various states of repair, one cracked Narnia snowglobe from McDonalds, some stuffed things, 2 cards and a counterfeit dollar bill. On the right are gifts from my Kolbe students (they went with a coffee theme): a customized travel mug with pictures of my students that are a few years old, a balloon on a stick, an enormous Starbucks mug (which says "Established 1971", like me), a bag of coffee, a can of coffee, German cookies, a ziplock bag of sugar, 2 creamers, and--my favorite--gift wrapped coffee filters.

This is why I love my birthday and why every one is better than the last. You couldn't script better gifts. They're great and they practically beg to be worked into a reflection on how our gifts to God are just like these, but, you're all smart and I don't have the time to write that reflection, so fill in the blanks. I'm just sure that God must be as pleased with our efforts to love Him as I was with these kids' efforts to please their grumpy (now old) teacher.

G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown Reader cover artwork the Perfect Christmas Gift

2007-12-03T08:52:00.001-07:00

My friend Nancy Brown asked her friends to publicize thiseBay auction for the original artwork to her new book's cover, so I did.

This might save your marriage.

2007-11-14T16:21:00.000-07:00

Priceless.

The Dangers of Education

2007-11-14T09:58:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official: my daughter Olivia can read. Normally, this would be a cause for celebration, but it really puts a damper on my "parenting" style.

What I mean is that, with this development, my wife and I can no longer spell secret messages to each other in front of our middle child. Now, only the baby and Annamaria remain clueless.

Yesterday, Joseph was busy being a boy at the dinner table and he messed up the cushion on the window seat. This cushion was something that Amy wanted for a long time and now that we finally have it, it gets quite a bit of attention from the mistress of the house.

"Don't bend the cushion!"
"Don't hold your sandwich over the cushion!"
"Don't walk on the cushion with your dirty feet, I just cleaned it!"

You get the idea.

Well, last night Papi had the midkids--Joe and Liv--while Mama took the bookends--Sophia, Annamaria, and Max--to Sophia's audition (The Princess and the Pea, if you're tracking). Anyway, after dinner I noticed that the cushion had somehow found it's way under the table.

I announced to Joseph that Mama was going to be "P-I-S-S-E-D Off" if she came home and saw that. Because he's a good boy and loves his Mama (we all do), he fixed it immediately.

That's when I heard what I thought was Olivia spitting out a hair or something.

"Puh...puh...puh..."
"Liva, are you okay?"
"ih...ih...ih...ssss...ssss..."

Oh, hell.

"eh...eh...eh...duh...duh. PISSED!! Papi, what does 'pissed' mean?"
"It means Papi's in trouble."

In my defense, the "P-I-S-S-E-D Off" line is not how I usually speak in front of my kids; it's a quote from a song composed by one of my favorite singers, Tonio K.

Tonio K. is a brilliant satirical lyricist who sings about the twistedness of love after the Fall of Man. I've learned more about true love from him than probably any other influence in my life (sadly, including Popes). Trouble is, he used to have a potty mouth, and his song H-A-T-R-E-D (from which Liva's new vocabulary word was plucked) is peppered with a number of expletives. (It's a breakup song, he was drunk when he recorded it, etc., etc.) It's also hilarious. So I sing it. And quote parts of it. In front of my newly literate daughter.

So, for those of you that care about our Domestic Safari, some of the cubs are learining new tricks and one of the gameskeepers is in the dog house.

The Toes-ary

2007-11-05T09:28:00.000-07:00

On a lighter note...

Recently, the kids have discovered that knuckles pop. Now popping knuckles is something they all want to do, all the time. Taking advantage of this, I have developed a new form of prayer. We call it the "Toes-ary".

Basically, it's a cross between "Little Piggies" and the Rosary. I grab a toe and start a Hail Mary while popping the knuckles. With each toe, we say a little more of the prayer until we finish. Then, we repeat on the other foot. Last night we decided that the mystery from the life of Christ we'd reflect on is the washing of the disciples feet.

It's not likely to go down in history as one of the great forms of prayer like these, but this is something distinctly Drapeauvian and proof that happy families are happy in unique ways.

In the future, I'll post some more of our family's quirky habits/sayings for your amusement.

Our Greatest Fear

2007-11-05T09:09:00.000-07:00

An old friend from South Africa recently got in touch with me and sent me the following quotation in response to post on Heroic Leadership. It's from a woman named Marianne Williamson but is often attributed erroneously to Nelson Mandela. When I first saw it it had Mandela's name attached, so every time I think of it, it's Mandela's voice delivering the lines in my head.

I really like the quotation and I think it certainly has Ignatian overtones. It reminds me of St. Irenaus' saying that the "Glory of God is man fully alive." I'm a little suspicious of the rest of this woman's oeuvre. (It has that "I'm not religious, I'm spiritual" vibe that drives me nuts.) Anyway, the quotation:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Thanks, Craig!

Reflections on Heroic Leadership

2007-11-01T11:11:00.000-07:00

The following is an excerpt from my journal that I thought I'd put up here. If it is boring or rambling, forgive me and just scroll down to the previous post of my kids' videos. At least they're cute.

I have started reading a new book called Heroic Leadership written by a former Jesuit and given to me by a dear friend. So far it is interesting, but not fascinating. I think my exposure to things Ignatian has lessened the novelty of many of his insights, but he is making me think of things I haven’t thought of in a while.

This morning I want to consider and explore one of the things that comes up in that book, namely, the importance of self-awareness. Also, I want to examine the Ignatian legacy in my life.

The current state of my life is best characterized by the phrase “in transition.” As I’ve written elsewhere, I see what has been going on these last few years as an Exodus of sorts. Certainly the most resonant scripture account has been the story of the Israelites’ journey from slavery to freedom in the Promised Land. I have identified closely with this recently and when I say I’m “in transition” this is what I’m referring to—the transition from slavery to freedom; from death to new life.
But, this new life I’m experiencing/preparing to experience is an enigma to me. I’m genuinely bewildered about what “new life” means for me.

In many ways I find my experience analogous to being born. The transition is laborious and quite painful, and now that I’m in this new environment, I have to learn everything from scratch. I know how to be a slave; I don’t know how to be free.

This is a very unusual position to be in for me. I who prided himself on being so self-aware, for keeping a journal, for being wise, etc. find myself wide-eyed and paralyzed in my current situation. In my mind’s eye, I appear as mystified as my son Maximilian waking from a nap in the afternoon. How odd to not know myself.

This brings me to the discussion on Ignatius and the influence of the Jesuits on my life. Am I Ignatian? Have the Jesuits marked me for life? If so, how do I cultivate the good of the Jesuits and filter out the poison that seems to be contaminating the order at present? Am I not Ignatian? Is my desire to be Ignatian a romantic notion akin to my desires to speak Latin, have a degree from TAC, and be physically/lethally fit? Is it a lie for me to consider myself a product of the Jesuits when I am not financially successful, politically influential, whatever? Am I not primarily a Chestertonian? Do I not identify with Opus Dei more than with the Society of Jesus?

On the other hand, do those things not come from my love of my Jesuit education? After all, I learned of GKC at BCP; I came to love the idea of AMDG present in Opus Dei from Jesuit priests and authors I met and read while in high school. In fact, the most influential books I’ve ever read are ones I came across during my time as a student at Brophy Prep.

So, what? How do I make use of my Jesuit legacy? Must I still be involved with the place that was for me both the Egypt of Joseph and the Egypt of Moses? Can I truly maintain an Ignatian character apart from a vital connection with the order? Will I wither and fade like a cut flower in my isolation? Will Brophy/the Society of Jesus become the Great Pyramids of my life’s landscape—impressive edifices, filled with hieroglyphics and dead men’s bones?

How can I distill from my time with Ignatius’ company a practical potion for making my own company prosperous? What can Inigo teach me about freedom and learning to walk? I don’t know the answers to all these questions. In reading Heroic Leadership, I’ve come across a few phrases that sparked this reflection:

“our way of proceeding”
“greater love than fear”
“magis”

Greater love than fear. This is how Ignatius hoped to characterize his order. It is emphatically not how Brophy was run during my time as a teacher there. It is however the way I want to live my life.

This theme of love being stronger than fear has run through my life for a long time. I think freedom from fear is one of the most important things I need to learn/am learning here in the land of Canaan. For me, this virtue of courage is crucial. I need it so that I can give it away, lead my family, inspire my sons. I need I to be real, too. I need to be brave so that when I talk to students, my consolation is strong and not merely a platitude.

I believe more than anything in the power of love. From John Donne to Tonio K. to Amy Elizabeth to my children to wordSwell, I believe in love connections. I believe in making them, keeping them, strengthening them. I want my life and my work to be like St. Andrew—I want to bring people to Love; I want to love people to God.

Our way of proceeding. The author of Heroic Leadership points out that the Jesuits “way of proceeding” is never written out as a formula. Rather, it issues forth from a state of being that St. Ignatius inculcated in his company. This simplest way to explain this is that Ignatius didn’t give a man a fish, nor did he merely teach a man to fish. What he did was more radical: he helped men become fishermen.

My way of proceeding must also necessarily flow out of my being and not be limited to my doing. I think here is a place for intuition to operate. At Brophy, my intuition was the first place that seeds of self-doubt were sown. I’m still affected by it. Here, too, the role of habits becomes so obvious and important. Good intuition comes from good habits; habits form one’s way of proceeding. Consequently, I do not proceed how I would.

The question for me is “how do I effectively change my habits?” I’ve gotten past the immaturity of strongly worded resolutions and may just be coming out of a jaded cynicism, but here is a prime example of where I’m a newborn without a clue.

As a slave, my habits were more conditioning than anything else. I acted as was expected (out of fear) or as unexpected (out of passive resistance), but never truly out of virtue. Even my fidelity to the Church was largely a rebellion against the “System”. (I have always wanted to be orthodox, but my self-identification as “Mr. Orthodoxy: heroic martyr” was not authentically me. The real me is a reconciler; a defender of the Faith who seeks understanding.)

As a free man, how do I form good habits? I am accustomed to failure and disappointment. I fear success more than anything else, so I sabotage myself constantly by overextending myself and causing chaos. Steven Pressfield might insist that doing my Work will form my work habits. I think that’s true.

Magis. I won’t say much about this except perhaps “Amen”. I want my life and work to be more than the minimum--I want to live for God’s great glory. But I also want it (my contribution to his glory) to be truly great.

Kids' Saint's Day Speeches

2007-10-31T15:31:00.000-07:00

Every year, in lieu of a Halloween celebration at the school, our kids have a saint's day celebration. All the kids in the school research a saint and then give a short presentation about that saint's life dressed as the saint they've chosen.

The quality of the video is not that good, but I posted them fast, so no complaints.

This year, we had the following saints:

Olivia, as St. Clare of Assisi

Joseph, as St. Jude Thaddeus

Sophia, as St. Colette

For good measure, we also have Max as St. Luke (Skywalker)

A Song That Chokes Me Up

2007-10-23T08:35:00.000-07:00

Last night at Monday School we were discussing Jesus' parables of the Hidden Treasure and the Pearl of Great Price. I mentioned a song called "How Much Do You Think You Are Worth?" that always makes me verklempt.

Below are the lyrics to the song and a link to where you can hear it performed by the original artist (I prefer the version of my friend who introduced me to the song, but she's not on the Internet...)

You'll need Real Audio Player to listen.

How Much Do You Think You Are Worth?

Is a rich man worth more than a poor man?
A stranger worth less than a friend?
Is a baby worth more than an old man?
Your beginning worth more than your end?

Is a president worth more than his assassin?
Does your value decrease with your crime?
Like when Christ took the place of Barabbas
Would you say he was wasting his time?

Well, how much do you think you are worth, boy?
Will anyone stand up and say?
Would you say that a man is worth nothing
Until someone is willing to pay?

I suppose that you think you matter
Well, how much do you matter to whom?
It’s much easier at night when with friends and bright lights
Than much later alone in your room

Do you think they’ll miss one in a billion
When you finish this old human race?
Does it really make much of a difference
When your friends have forgotten your face?

If you heard that your life had been valued
That a price had been paid on the nail
Would you ask what was traded,
How much and who paid it
Who was He and what was His name?

If you heard that His name was called Jesus
Would you say that the price was too dear?
Held to the cross not by nails but by love
It was you broke His heart, not the spear!
Would you say you are worth what it cost Him?
You say ‘no’, but the price stays the same.
If it don’t make you cry, laugh it off, pass Him by,
But just remember the day when you throw it away
That He paid what He thought you were worth.

How much do you think He is worth, boy?
Will anyone stand up and say?
Tell me, what are you willing to give Him
In return for the price that He paid?

Graham Kendrick
Copyright © 1974 Make Way Music

Hear it.

Today's Message from Opus Dei

2007-10-23T07:03:00.001-07:00

In Opus Dei, they speak of the "heroic moment"--that first moment of
the day when you awake and must choose whether to hit the snooze
button or start the day. They consider it a heroic act to mortify
oneself ("die to self") by getting up immediately and offering your
day to the Lord.

If this is indeed a measure of heroism, I am a villain whose perfidy
may never be fully plumbed.

All kidding aside, I did manage somehow to get out of bed at an
early-esque hour today and I found this in my inbox. Once again, I
think it's good advice.

MESSAGE
October 23, 2007
"Practice meditation for a fixed period and at a fixed time"
Practice meditation for a fixed period and at a fixed time. Otherwise
we would be putting our own convenience first; that would be a lack of
mortification. And prayer without mortification is not at all
effective. (Furrow, 446)

Overcome any sluggishness you may feel, and the false excuse that
prayer can wait for later. Let us never put off this vital source of
grace until tomorrow. Now is the right time. God, who is a loving
spectator of everything we do, watches over our most intimate needs.
You and I, I tell you once again, we need to confide in him as we
might confide in a brother, a friend, a father. Tell him, as I am
telling him now, that he is all greatness, all goodness, all mercy.
Tell him also, 'This is why I want to fall in love with you, despite
my rough manner and poor hands, soiled and ill‑treated by the dust and
grime of this earth'...

Each day without fail we should devote some time specially to God,
raising our minds to him, without any need for the words to come to
our lips, for they are being sung in our heart. Let us give enough
time to this devout practice; at a fixed hour, if possible. Before the
Tabernacle, close to him who has remained there out of Love. If this
is not possible, we can pray anywhere because our God is ineffably
present in the heart of every soul in grace. (Friends of God, 246.249)

New Pics of Kids

2007-10-21T09:56:00.001-07:00

Our friend Alishia took some pictures of our family this weekend. I like this one of the two brothers. If you follow the link below you should be able to get to the others.

by alishialinn
© All rights reserved

Just follow this link to see the photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/alishiahanson/sets/72157602590972643/

(If the link doesn't work, try copying and pasting it from this email into your browser's address bar.)

“God does not lose battles”

2007-10-21T08:55:00.001-07:00

I get a daily email from that nefarious organization known as Opus Dei. Below I've copied the email reflection I got yesterday in the mail.

I don't think it's especially profound, but I do think it is indicative of the manly nature of St. Josemaria's advice. For a guy like me who tends to beat himself up when he falls, this stuff is really encouraging.

For a while I was getting a daily reflection from another religious order and it was good, but Escriva's words seem to always have more depth, wisdom, and virility than the other group's.

When I went to my first Opus Dei meeting 5 or 6 years ago, I told the friend who invited me that I had never experienced anything like it. "That was the drumstick of faith," I quipped. "There wasn't an ounce of fat on it. No red punch, no 'hi-how-are-ya's--just strong meat and Grace. Wow." I still feel like that.

The image that's not displaying is the Opus Dei logo.

MESSAGE

October 21, 2007

"God does not lose battles"

If you fall, get up with greater hope. Self-love alone is incapable of understanding that an error, when put right, helps us to know and to humble ourselves. (Furrow, 724)

Forward, no matter what happens! Cling tightly to Our Lord's hand and remember that God does not lose battles. If you should stray from him for any reason, react with the humility that will lead you to begin again and again; to play the role of the prodigal son every day, and even repeatedly during the twenty‑four hours of the same day; to correct your contrite heart in Confession, which is a real miracle of God's Love. In this wonderful Sacrament Our Lord cleanses your soul and fills you with joy and strength to prevent you from giving up the fight, and to help you keep returning to God unwearied, when everything seems black. In addition, the Mother of God, who is also our Mother, watches over you with motherly care, guiding your every step.

Holy Scripture points out that even 'the just man falls seven times' [1]. Whenever I read this phrase my soul trembles with love and sorrow. This divine indication shows us Our Lord once again setting out to meet us and speak to us about his mercy, his tenderness and clemency that know no limits. Be sure of this: God does not want our wretchedness, but he is aware of it, and indeed he makes use of our weakness to make saints of us…

I prostrate myself before God and I state my situation clearly. Immediately he helps me, he reassures me, and I hear him repeat slowly in the depths of my heart, meus es tu! [2], I know the way you are, as I have always known it. Forward! (Friends of God, 214-215)

[1] Prov 24:16
[2] 'You are mine' (Is 43:1)

My New License Plate

2007-10-02T17:40:00.001-07:00

Seriously, how cool am I?

14 Minutes, 40 Seconds Remaining...

2007-10-02T10:57:00.000-07:00

My fifteen minutes of fame is slowly getting eaten up.

Today I got an email from Dappled Things informing me that I'm officially published.

Dappled Things is an online (now print as well) literary magazine for young Catholic writers/artists. As of my next birthday, I am no longer a young Catholic (I turn 36 this year). So, this was my last chance to get in.

My poem is called "Bread from Heaven". I hope you enjoy it.

The Pitter Patter of Tiny Feasts

2007-10-01T08:48:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about being a Catholic is that there's always a reason to celebrate. This week alone our family will be celebrating 3 special feast days. Today is the feast of St. Therese of Lisieux. This day is special to our Olivia Therese and she's loving living it up. Tomorrow is the feast of guardian angels, which we all have (Sophia claims she has two) and Thursday is the feast of St. Francis of Assisi--one of Annamaria Francesca's patron saints.

There are a million ways we can honor our saints and reflect on their good examples. Today we let Olivia eat off of our "You Are Special" plate and Amy made a crumb cake; tomorrow we might have angel food cake; Thursday we're eating Italian and the kids are stripping of all their clothes in public like St. Francis.

Another good thing is that we have the kids' saints to back us up on discipline/family issues. For example:

"Olivia! Do you think St. Therese ate with her fingers??"

"Sophia, why can't you be more like St. Clare and embrace poverty and fashion-backwardness?"

"Joseph! There's no way the foster father of our Lord would condone hitting girls."

"Annamaria! Seriously, kid, there's no way Mamma Mary was this stubborn."

At the moment, Max (named after Maximilan Kolbe) is perfect and, like his patron, dotes on his mother. Eventually though he'll need to be punished and then we'll let him know that his patron was martyred in prison so "Time Out" is really an opportunity to emulate his role model.

Anyway, find out who your saints are and then make a big deal about it. We do it and we love it.

I'm performing in this play.

2007-09-27T17:15:00.000-07:00

Worth a Read

2007-09-27T09:29:00.001-07:00

http://www.catholicexchange.com/node/64091

Domestic Safari Update

2007-09-27T06:28:00.000-07:00

I don't have time for a long field report today. (Actually, I never have time...) I just thought I'd share a few things that struck me as funny/telling about my kids.

First, my son Joseph is on a "little league" soccer team called the Knights. This, however, is not the name he and his friend Petey lobbied for. They wanted "The Bloodsuckers". I think that's a terrifying name for a soccer team--what is this, professional wrestling? Can you imagine a horde of 7-8 year old boys screaming down the field in KISS make-up? It seriously scares the poo out of me.

Maybe they were playing off the homophony between soccer/sucker--if I go with that, does my boy sound a little more literate? Or maybe it was veiled protest against corporate team sponsorship? The back of their shirts might then read "The Bloodsuckers/Smith and Jones Accounting" or something like that...

Second, last night was, in my wife's words, "a little miracle". Why? Because the kids all played together in peace. The irony here is that their peaceful activity was creating and naming all sorts of Lego weapons. My daughter, sweet Sophia of the hook-hand dreams, was chirping out all kinds of horrific names for their creations:

Pursuit of Darkness
Day of Doom
Bloody Bud
Romeo

That last one gave me some hope that my kids weren't hopelessly morbid, but then I remembered that Romeo met his demise in a double suicide. Perhaps we should feed them Quaker Oats in hopes that they'll develop pacifist tendencies.

On a happier note, when I told Olivia that she could make other things besides weapons with her Legos, she lovingly told me that she'd make me a flower once she was finished with her "space guns".

I should probably read this again. Which, by the way, is a post that was commented upon by somebody in New Zealand. (If you're still visiting, we should arrange a house-swap vacation or something. I live near the biggest hole in the world and you live near Hobbits...)

In my next field report I'll write about the new self-defense courses my son Max (9 months old tomorrow) is offering his siblings and I might also discuss the new class I'm offering at our parish, Monday School.

Sluggard's Lament

2007-09-27T06:04:00.000-07:00

O Lord, in your wisdom you've shown me
something that I often forget--
I like to wake up in the morning
when it's dark out and flowers are wet.
In quiet, I eat and I praise thee
In silence, I write and I pray
but, still, Lord your wisdom evades me:
why send mornings so soon in the day?

Born to be Mild

2007-09-26T09:30:00.000-07:00

For the record, I can't drink to save my life. I like beer and wine, but they don't like me. I consider this a pretty major flaw in my otherwise Chestertonian constitution, but we all have our crosses to bear...

One of my favorite poem-ettes is from Hillaire Belloc:

Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine,
There's always laughter and good red wine.
At least I've always thought it so,
Benedicamus Domino.

So my apology for not being able to drink ad hiliaritatum (Aquinas):

I'm much more of a thinker
than I am a drinker.
But I am an advocate
of getting one's dry whistle wet.

Alarmed

2007-09-26T09:25:00.000-07:00

As I awoke, all thick and groggy,
my morning thoughts were still quite foggy.
And I considered from my bed
how I would feel if I were dead.
But at that moment it occurred,
"If I were dead, I'd not've stirred."
Alarmed with insight into life,
I snoozed the clock and hugged my wife.

Irish Advice/A Toast

2007-09-26T09:13:00.000-07:00

Drink a Guinness, then Recite (in your best brogue):

Drink 'til you're merry
and not 'til you're bad.
Then, when you're buried,
all will feel sad.
None will regret sharing with you his liquor.
and you might get prayed out of Purg'tory quicker.

Wine As Aquinas Recommends

2007-09-26T08:32:00.001-07:00

St. Thomas with sincerity
said, "Drink until hilarity."
But if you drink much more than this,
you might become Anonymous.

A little bit famous...

2007-09-25T11:31:00.000-07:00

Apparently my vanity knows no bounds. This isn't a big deal, but I made it on someone else's blog...

14 minutes, 50 seconds of fame left...

Drinking Songs and Poem-ettes

2007-09-19T18:13:00.000-07:00

I recently came across recordings of Hillaire Belloc singing and it made me think about the lost art of bar singing and whimsical versification. So I've been trying to write very, very light verse every day as a sort of grown-up recess activity. Here's the latest:

I have a notion that this nation sorely needs to hear
more songs that are inspired by the drinking of good beer.
Not the raucous rock songs a piss-drunkard sometimes bellows,
but rather rousing choruses from blokes and their good fellows.

Seriously, though I think it's high time for a national pub singing movement. Local chapters could be called wePods and meetings could consist of singing and drinking beer and burgundy (but not too much). Every week the lad with the most original/most singable song gets to drink for free.

In the spirit of this, I've composed a drinking song about a man who's been betrayed by his chum:

I'll tip a pint to you, Old Friend, I'll tip a pint to you.
And, when I finish this one, I'll tip another, too.
For I remember you, Old Friend--yes, I remember you,
but I'm trying to forget ya, so, I'll drink until I do.

Here are some other poem-ettes I've written recently:

A Little Exercise
This is a little excercise
that I have under taken--
to practice writing verse until
the habit can't be shaken.

I wish to speak in couplets
and pithy epigrams
so that a rhyming rhythym
will capture who I am.

Two Men
The man who lives in ignorance
(through no fault of his own)
can claim a primal innocence
from sins he might have known.

But we call that man foolish
who will not seek wisdom.
'Cuz ignorant or schoolish,
an unwise man is dumb.

Bedtime
Going to bed at three,
is often a pleasure for me.
But getting back up at 6:30
makes all of my bones start to hurty.

Balls
I have so many balls up in the air
that I can't take the risk of looking down.
So even though I'm juggling with care,
I sometimes slip on marbles on the ground.

Now, remember: these are not meant to be good or profound--they're meant to be recess. Also, I'm pretty sure they'll sound better after a few drinks. The image above is from these guys.

Cheers!

Of Hooks and Mirrors

2007-08-27T08:21:00.000-07:00

I called this blog the Natalist Diaries because I wanted it to be a sort of field journal of my domestic safari. Home, as my man GK puts it, is “the one wild place in the world of rules and set tasks.” Truer words were never spoken. This morning the Queen informed me of some very strange goings on indeed.

Apparently, my eldest daughter, Sophia has been having nightmares. She’s always struggled with being fearful at night, but this time her fear is so outrageous (even for her) that I had to comment on it.

Two nights ago, Sophia crawls into our bed apologizing to Amy for the dream she just had (this is a quality of her first-born, “I-have-to-be-perfect-and-never-do-anything-that-might displease-my-parents” constitution).

“Don’t get mad at me,” she whimpers, “but does Olivia have a hook for a hand?” (Olivia is our two-handed third child.)

“No, sweetie, Olivia doesn’t have a hook for hand.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

What elevates this incident from the mundane to the ridiculous is that Sophia kept asking Amy if Olivia had a hook for hand all the next day.

“Mama, are you sure she doesn’t have a hook for a hand?”

“Sophia, she’s standing right there. Look at her HANDS.”

“Okay, Mama, but are you sure?”

This is life with Sophia, our little actress. She’s an amazing kid—smart, funny, kind, beautiful, fashionable—but everything that happens to her is so the drama, all the time.

The funny thing about this hook-for-a-hand farce is that it really isn’t about Olivia, it’s about Sophia. What would she ever do with hook-handed little sister? This is just another of countless examples of her unselfconscious ego-centricism. She’s completely oblivious to her narcissism.

Sometimes she’ll come in at night, worried about kidnappers.

“Mama, are you sure no one’s going to come and steal me through the window?”

“Yes, Sophia. I’m sure.”

I always like to chime in at this point.

“Sophia, why would someone want to steal you? Think about it: why would a bad guy break into your window, which has a locked shutter and a chest of drawers pushed up against it, just to steal the heaviest, most verbal kid in the family? The baby’s in the room next to yours and he’s way more portable than you are and far more likely to forget about Mama and Papi as he grows up poor in a dirty trailer park with desperate, unfashionable, kid-stealing foster parents.”

Silence.

“Mama, are you sure no bad guys are going to take me?”

What amazes me is that as crazy as my kids can be, they always hold a mirror to my own irrationality. It seems each of our kids embodies some of the good and bad traits of Mama and Papi. This makes for a pretty entertaining home life, but it also serves as looking glass for the Queen and me to see our own faults and strengths.

In Sophia, I see so many of my irrational fears and so much of my unwitting selfishness; but, thanks be to God, I also see such a desire for goodness and so much beauty, creativity, and trust.

Something to shoot for...

2007-08-04T23:28:00.000-07:00

We watched this at our writer's meeting today. It was really worth the time.

Annamaria Turned 3!

2007-07-26T14:07:00.000-07:00

Annamaria's 3rd Birthday

Click on the picture of Annamaria above to see more pix.

Ah, three years old, that magical age. I find it odd that all my children go through what I like to call "a Jurassic Park" phase. Remember the cute little dinosaurs that suddenly eat the fat guy? That's kinda how my kids are when they hit three. It goes away, but Joseph has a few scars from Annamaria that might not...

If you need reminding:

Apparently, Chesterton has met my son...

2007-07-25T01:56:00.001-07:00

What can they mean when they say that we must not put militarism into boys? Can we by any possibility get militarism out of boys? You might burn it out with red-hot irons; you might eventually scourge it out as if it were a mediaeval devil; but except you employ the most poignant form of actual persecution, you certainly will not prevent little boys thinking about soldiers, talking about soldiers, and pretending that they are soldiers. You may mortify and macerate this feeling in them if you like, just as you may mortify and macerate their love of comrades, or their love of wandering…

A child’s instinct is almost perfect in the matter of fighting; a child always stands for the good militarism as against the bad. The child’s hero is always the man or boy who defends himself suddenly and splendidly against aggression. The child’s hero is never the man or boy who attempts by his mere personal force to extend his mere personal influence… To put the matter shortly, the boy feels an abysmal difference between conquest and victory. Conquest has the sound of something cold and heavy; the automatic operations of a powerful army. Victory has the sound of something sudden and valiant; victory is like a cry out of a living mouth. The child is excited with victory; he is bored with conquest. The child is not an Imperialist; the child is a Jingo – which is excellent. The child is not a militarist in the heavy, mechanical modern sense; the child is a fighter. Only very old and very wicked people can be militarists in the modern sense. Only very old and very wicked people can be peace-at-any-price men. The child’s instincts are quite clean and chivalrous, though perhaps a little exaggerated.

But really to talk of this small human creature, who never picks up an umbrella without trying to use it as a sword, who will hardly read a book in which there is no fighting, who out of the Bible itself generally remembers the ‘bluggy’ parts, who never walks down the garden without imagining himself to be stuck all over with swords and daggers – to take this human creature and talk about the wickedness of teaching him to be military, seems rather a wild piece of humour. He has already not only the tradition of fighting, but a far manlier and more genial tradition of fighting than our own. No; I am not in favour of the child being taught militarism. I am in favour of the child teaching it.

- The Illustrated London News, 20 October 1906.

Mes Aïeux - Dégénération (English Subtitles)

2007-07-15T18:08:00.001-07:00

This song made me sad. Maybe I'll write more about it later. My family is French Canadian way back and this song makes me think of what my great-great grandparents were like. It is supposedly the number one song downloaded in Quebec.

Book Review: The War of Art

2007-07-03T08:37:00.000-07:00

A couple of posts ago I mentioned that I was reading a book by Steven Pressfield called The War of Art. In this post, I want to briefly review and reflect on the book, but, just enough to “free the prisoners” of my thoughts on the book; this is not the definitive review/interpretation of the book. I am very interested in hearing what other readers think, so please comment on this post.

The book’s title is obviously a play on the title of Wesley Snipes’s movie, er...Sun Tzu’s book, The Art of War and it is a particularly fitting title for a book on writing by a man whose body of work consists mostly of historical war novels set in ancient times. Like Sun Tzu’s book, The War of Art presents very practical, very solid, straightforward advice about its subject; like the Wesley Snipes movie, the appeal wears off rapidly and the last third is barely coherent.

In the first part of the book Pressfield introduces a concept he calls “Resistance”, which is broadly defined as anything that keeps us from our work. Our work, Pressfield says, is what we were meant to do on this planet. Don’t read that wrong. He’s not saying that we’re called to be ants in a hive, he’s saying that each us has a particular job to do, a special vocation. For some, it could be writing; for others it could be painting or starting a business or being a mom. Our work is the thing that we are uniquely suited for and that we must do for our own sake and the sake of the universe. We avoid this work at our peril. Resistance is anything and everything that we put in the way of doing our work. It’s all the excuses, neuroses, diseases, relationships, and rationalizations that we give in to instead of doing what we’re supposed to.

His litany of the many ways Resistance manifests itself was easily the best part of the book. It was, if you’ll forgive the expression, shock and awe. I was had like Bagdad. He named every one of my evasions and left me with nowhere to run. He kicked my ass. And his recommendation for overcoming Resistance is tough love at its finest. Basically, his advice is “Man up, Nancy. Get over yourself and do your work.” So far, so good, but then the book starts to go wonky.

Pressfield is dead on target about what’s wrong with most writers, artists, and people: we are afraid of our own potential greatness so we sabotage ourselves. Everything he says about Resistance rings true, even if the term itself is inexact. What he has to say about muses and the gods (they’re real…kinda), the evolution of man (we are inexorably getting better), and God (a.k.a. the Universe), does not ring true. It rings inconsistent and potlucky. The world view he proposes as response to Resistance is a syncretistic, new-agey mess.

For Pressfield, art comes from resisting Resistance and doing one’s work. The manly advice he gives at the beginning of the book seems to be heavily influenced by his study of ancient Sparta and stoics. That’s fine as far as it goes, but what is glaringly absent (at least from this Catholic’s point of view) is a sense of grace. His notion of cooperating with the muses is profound, but not as profound as Tolkien’s idea of man as sub-creator. His notion of work is noble, but not as noble as Josemaria Escriva’s.

To sum it all up, I recommend this book, especially the first two thirds, but with reservations. For anyone who is used to exact terms and a consistent worldview, this might be a bit tiring—it was for me. But for anyone who needs a good kick in the pants to start writing, working, starting a photography business and getting out of the corporate world, this is a great motivator.

Some Pictures from Pinewood, AZ

2007-07-02T22:32:00.000-07:00

Amy and the kids are on vacation in Pinewood/Munds Park, AZ just a few miles outside of Flagstaff. I'm mooching bandwidth from a neighbor to work remotely. So far, we're tired.

Olivia and I went for a picture walk today and snapped photos of anything that caught our fancies. She was really cute about the whole thing, but still has a long way to go...

We picked up Joseph and Sophia from drama camp and Joseph got jealous of Olivia with the camera. He took it upon himself to make things right and relieved his sister of the camera so he could take some pix himself. Both of their work is represented in the slideshow, as is mine.

I like photography. I think I'm pretty good, too, but there's a lot to learn to be great and I don't want to make that investment. If, however, a reader wishes to purchase a wide angle lens for my Canon Digital Rebel that reader would be heartily thanked...

Sophia got a main part in the play. She's Baghera in Jungle Book. Joseph has been cast as an elephant, but he wanted to be a monkey. I told him it wouldn't be acting if he was cast as a monkey

God is good.

Mom My Ride

2007-06-29T13:13:00.001-07:00

Here is a funny little video that my wife's friends were passing around for a while. Enjoy!

Do You Know This Man?

2007-06-29T08:02:00.000-07:00

His name is Steven Pressfield and he's been kicking my ass for over an hour.

My new friend Mark of the Kindlings turned me on to Pressfield at our last writer's meeting. I got the CD of his book The War of Art at the library and have been listening to him describe all my bad habits as if he knew me. It's a bit spooky.

I'm about a third of the way through the book and it's very good. He writes very directly, in a no-bullshit manner. So far he's spent a lot of time talking about what he calls "Resistance". This is a term he applies to anything that keeps us from doing our work. As far as I can tell, Resistance is roughly equivalent to Freud's thanatos impulse, or Death Wish, that force in our lives that moves us toward death and not life. The life force (Freud calls it eros) pushes us out of the comfortable womb, through pain to life. Thanatos moves against this, seeking pleasure that ultimatley leads to death. You can imagine the deadly effects of trying to be a grown man inside a womb.

Pressfield says that there are a million ways that Resistance can manifest itself--writer's block, illness, addiction, drama--but it must always be combatted by doing one's work, what one was put on the planet to do.

He seems to be headed toward Mother Theresa's "faithfulness, not success" comibined with a heaping helping of Josemaria Escriva's philosophy of work. I'll keep you posted.

The Queen

2007-06-29T06:34:00.001-07:00

This is a picture of the beautiful woman responsible for blessing/genetically rescuing the children whose images you see littered throughout this blog. She is the finest woman I know. Most people are mystified by her decision to consort with likes of me (I include myself in that number), but she does, and I'm keeping her.

Chesterton says that limiting yourself to one woman is a small price to pay for the privilege of being able to see one at all. He was thinking of my wife when he wrote that.

He also had this to say about the "drudgery" of motherhood. It applies equally well:

To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors, and holidays; to be Whitely within a certain area, providing toys, sheets, cakes, and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone and narrow to be everything to someone? No, a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute.
--"The Emancipation of Domesticity" from Chesterton's 1910 classic What's Wrong with the World.

The Defense of Christianity

2007-06-29T06:31:00.001-07:00

"You cannot evade the issue of God, whether you talk about pigs or the
binomial theory, you are still talking about Him. Now if Christianity
be. . . a fragment of metaphysical nonsense invented by a few people,
then, of course, defending it will simply mean talking that
metaphysical nonsense over and over. But if Christianity should happen
to be true - then defending it may mean talking about anything or
everything. Things can be irrelevant to the proposition that
Christianity is false, but nothing can be irrelevant to the
proposition that Christianity is true."

G.K. Chesterton
Daily News December 12, 1903

Makes Good Better

2007-06-25T15:00:00.001-07:00

Here is an outstanding little commercial that captures the Natalist philosophy quite nicely. Hat tip to Mamapajama.

Full Houses and Zip Codes

2007-06-25T11:28:00.001-07:00

I met a guy after church on Sunday who also has 5 kids. I told him we both had full houses: mine is Queens full of Jacks, his is Jacks full of Queens. (At least I think that's how you say it. I've got 2 boys and 3 girls, he has the reverse.)

Anyway, I asked him if the kids were born at "NFP Spacing" (every two years). He said, "Almost exactly." I told him we were the same way, and he said something I'd never heard before: "Ah, you have a ZIP code, too."

I love it--a ZIP code: 86420. Sophia, Joseph, Olivia, Annamaria, Max.

This is worth reading: Making Babies: A Very Different Look at Natural Family Planning

Blessed R. Drapeau

2007-06-22T22:04:00.000-07:00

So, I'm sitting around worrying about my finances, when this comes in the email:

Matthew 6: 24-34
Jesus said to his disciples: “No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ´What will we eat?´ or ´What will we drink?´ or ´What will we wear?´ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. "So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today´s trouble is enough for today.”

That's uncanny, right?

Sophia keeps asking me if we're poor. I'm not sure what she thinks it means to be poor. I ask her if she's going without anything she needs, she says "no". I ask her if she's unhappy, she says "no". I ask her if she knows her Mama and Papi love her, she says "yes". I ask her if she loves her brothers and sisters and if they love her, she says "yes". I tell her that there are a lot of people with more money who can't answer those questions the same way, so, no, we're not poor. But she has eagle-ears (if there are such things) and always manages to overhear Mama and Papi talking about money. What a kid.

Anyway, rich we ain't. At least not in the "we-don't-look-at-price-tags" way. But, I've got half a dozen friends who love me like a brother, supportive parents and in-laws, cool siblings (including brothers-in-law and their wives), five amazing, beautiful, loving, and fun kids, and a wife whom future generations of women will pray to under the title of "St. Amy Elizabeth, Martyrfamilias". That's a lot.

The Natalist Diaries

CatholicPhoenix.com

Happy Fother's Day

Olivia Publishes Her first Book

Gemma's Birthday

Overpopulation: The Making of a Myth

Is 'absolutely' overused? Absolutely! - CNN.com

The Phoenix Zoo - Otter Man

Robertus, Episcopus, et Confirmandus

Joseph's First Communion

Madonna’s Grammy Award: National Catholic Register

Imaginary Good and Evil

Beauty Ever Ancient, Ever New

Honey, Pack Your Things...

Pollywog in a Bog

St. Ambrose

"More Spacious Than the Heavens"

The Saintmakers

One Little Indian

What's Right With the World

A Hope Deferred: Justin McRoberts

What's Wrong With the World

‘Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend’

Look Who's Four!

Hope you can open this

Silly Sisters - Geordie

Theology of the Bawdy: Amy, Will You Let Me

Theology of the Body: Max's Song

Happy Feast Day, Olivia!

Smithlings

Help Me Write a Song

Why I Love My WIfe

Mother's Day

Sophia's First Communion and Confirmation

Heigh ho, Snappy!

Happy Feast Day

The Distributist Review: A Request To Our Readers

Easter Break in Mexico

Easter Photos

My friend Joseph is a published movie reviewer!!

Jackie Moon Old Spice Commercials *All 8*

Chesterton on You Tube, part 2

Chesterton on You Tube

"Un-freaking believable!!"

Sent to you by Rob via Google Reader:

"Un-freaking believable!!"

Things you can do from here:

Took my lady to a show...

Gemini Trumps Cancer

Happy Birthday to Amy

Advice for Angela

Fr. John Becker, S.J. (July 9, 1925 – January 19, 2008)

Feel Free to Patronize Me

Volunteer Children

"Jesus, here is John the Milkman"

Olivia's Version of Our Family

One Wild Place...

Chesterton Monologue

Mancold

Our Recent Trip to the Zoo

The Star of Bethlehem

Grow The Heart of a Man

Lightsaber Battle

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous...

What Have We Ventured for Christ?

My Birthday

G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown Reader cover artwork the Perfect Christmas Gift

This might save your marriage.

The Dangers of Education

The Toes-ary

Our Greatest Fear

Reflections on Heroic Leadership

Kids' Saint's Day Speeches

A Song That Chokes Me Up

Today's Message from Opus Dei

New Pics of Kids

“God does not lose battles”

My New License Plate

14 Minutes, 40 Seconds Remaining...

The Pitter Patter of Tiny Feasts

Jackie Moon Old Spice Commercials All 8