A Blog from Atobe

2010-01-02T18:14:00.008-05:00

I had planned on reflecting upon the past decade, but our internet was down for the last few days. Already I miss the zeros- whether they were good or bad for mankind, the decade as a whole was a great time in my yet young life.

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The last ten years perfectly encapsulate the end of a rare period of easygoing peace, the course of action America took under the leadership of George W. Bush, and the beginning of a new stage in our politics commenced under a spirit of hope which already appears to have been illusory. It is hard to imagine that Bill Clinton, the president of my childhood, left office only in early 2001. Despite his faults, which have inspired hundreds upon hundreds of Ann Coulter one-liners, his time at the helm will go down as one of the most peaceful and carefree in our history, though probably not thanks to him.

It was in the run-up to the 2000 election that I became a conservative. One of the hot debates in Massachusetts was over Question 4, an essentially non-binding measure to roll back the state income tax to 5%. Both sides aired ads, but even the No on 4 ads made the tax cut sound like an excellent idea. I was happy when the question won, but of course the legislature just ignored it. At the time (early in 6th grade), many of my friends were already politicized, but I do not remember any Bush supporters. On election night, I even took a picket sign a radio station had given out a few weeks before, wrote a pro-Bush message on the other side, and waved it about as the results poured in on election night; as far as 11-year-olds go, I think I was one-of-a-kind. When Bush was finally declared the winner weeks later, I was beaming for days, whilst the rest of Northampton spent the time moping with downcast faces.

During the first days of the war in Afghanistan, I remember a 7th grade teacher apologizing for how we would have to grow up during a war, and as it turned out, an additional war in Iraq. Indeed, our apprehension over worrisome affairs across the globe seems a new thing. In the 90s there had been, for example, warfare in the Balkans, but that was never perceived as a threat to our national security in the way the purported menace of Iran seems to be. I never really agreed with my teacher's assessment. War in itself is an evil, and in the case of Iraq, and likely the continuation of the war in Afghanistan, is not justified, though I certainly didn't think so during my hawkish neocon days. But war also brings out the best in men, and fosters certain virtues which rarely have their day in liberal democracy. The French Revolution launched what was to become the prototypical crusade for liberalism--and yet, as Nietzsche observes, it gave birth to Napoleon Bonaparte (who, interestingly, is also admired by the Catholic historian Hilaire Belloc). Now, as far as I know, General Petraeus is no Napoleon, but no one can help but be impressed by the spirit of those classmates who, formerly known mostly for clownishness or as jocks, upon graduating high school, signed up for the United States Marines knowing they may well be sent into combat. For those of us safely continuing our civilian lives, war demands justification, and we are called to reconsider the fundamental beliefs of our civilization. A just war effort is incumbent upon a just political order. By and large, I do not think most Americans have really weighed the virtues and vices of liberal democracy--most believe the ideals of our political order are perfect--but at least the wars, as anyone who has taken an Assumption College political science course knows well, a fitting context for re-raising the fundamental political questions. As an aspiring political philosopher, this is an ideal era in which to live. St. George, pray for our armed forces +

The Bush years were a good time for social conservatives. Unlike the fiscal conservatives, whose concerns were often ignored, and pro-peace conservatives (as I discovered when I came to oppose the war, liberals could not imagine that such an animal could exist, at least before the Ron Paul campaign), social conservatives had few real qualms with the policies of the administration and the Republican majorities in Congress. The Mexico City policy was back in season, federal support for ESCR halted and was twice vetoed,Leon Kass chaired the President's Council on Bioethics, the Supreme Court tilted to the right for the long term, we got the occasional grandstanding for an amendment to define marriage as between a man and a woman, etcetera etcetera. Sure, many especially among fellow traditional Catholics, said Bush didn't do enough against legal abortion or in other fields, but his record impressed me well enough. He was not ideal, but it took courage to make the veto threat which prevented homosexuals from being added to the groups protected from so-called "hate crimes". As with all Christian conservatives, he was subjected to unending abuse by the media, but held his ground pretty well for all of it. In the ObamaNation, however, the seasonal policies have shifted against the natural family, and things aren't looking good for America's Christians. Even last year, it would've been hard to believe I'd miss Bush so much.

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It was a great decade for manga and anime. Though a friend of mine says she lost interest in manga and anime when her favorite 90s series ended, my favorites are nearly contemporaneous with the decade as a whole. Though the first anime I really loved was Kazuki Akane's The Vision of Escaflowne (1996), Tite Kubo's Bleach, popular amongst many non-fanatics and in some ways a new generation's Dragonball Z, exploded into the manga scene in 2001. Everyone [generalization alert] loves Bleach. From the stylistic manga art and the rockin' theme music to the damsel-in-distress plots and the fine females, Bleach has the right stuff for everyone on your list. Just a year later, the manga-ka duo Peach-Pit, my favorite manga artists, got started with their first serialized manga DearS. Delightfully-yet-deceptively sexy, the manga-turned-anime perfected the ecchi (I could creatively translate it as "sketchy") genre, accenting its bawdy chastity with themes worthy of a Philosophy and book. (I successfully cited a few passages in an argument over the source of the moral wrongness of slavery in an exchange with a fellow Assumption philosophy major.)

[Rozen Maiden's Shinku holding her Detective Kun Kun doll]

Even DearS, though, could not live up to the sheer magnificence of their Rozen Maiden. Joining French aristocratic fashion, typical manga obsession with occultism and a bit of Christian imagery, an intriguing Cartesian-deterministic undertone, and adorable, innocent characters, the manga never hit the best seller list, but certainly won my attention; I've read most of the eight volumes at least five times. Japan's former Prime Minister, Taro Aso, is a famous reader of Peach-Pit's master work. I haven't read the duo's subsequent Zombie Loan, but from what I've read of it, their girly-but-good Shugo Chara! is another manga for the ages.

Over the decade, manga and anime grew in popularity in America. Manga is now regularly published in its original right to left format--hence I always tell my friends, "Manga is the crack you snort from right to left"--and thanks to the Internet, animes are available in the Japanese with subtitles, though whether it is good that it comes free depends on whether you watch or produce it. Anime films are also shown in more theaters than ever before. Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Awaywas shown in just 26 theaters in 2002, but this year, his Ponyo appeared in 927 theaters, and I was fortunate enough to see it. Undeniably the best anime film maker, Miyazaki does get on my nerves with his Hollywood-style leftism, so I often think of him as the George Clooney of anime.

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The Church, in these years, was humbled by the shocking sex abuse scandals, and failed to retain many who turned away from its offer of salvation in Jesus Christ. The dearth of priests persists, and the closings of parishes continue afoot--my own St. Mary of the Assumption, where I was baptized, confirmed, and first received the Holy Eucharist, holds its last Mass today. Nonetheless, the tradition-minded orders in the Church continue to flourish, and their priests serve more and more believers every year, in part due to and with the encouragement of our beloved Supreme Pontiff, Benedict XVI, fearless starer-down of secularists and misguided neo-Catholics alike, especially with the daring removal of the decreed excommunications on the bishops of the Society of Saint Pius X. The pope is, as truly as any saint honored with a feast day, an image of Christ in the world, and a model shepherd of His faithful. God grant him many happy years on the Chair of St. Peter.

And, of course, I became Catholic, though this poor sinner may prove more a liability than a gain to the Church founded by Jesus Christ Himself.

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My musical ignorance could easily make Jay Walking, but here goes. From my perspective, the decade began with *NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys, and ended with Stefani Germanotta, better known by her inane stage name. Since I never listened to Michael Jackson, I count the gradual breakup of *NSYNC as the biggest music tragedy of the decade. We still have Backstreet, thank God, but their popularity has plummeted to a remnant of their now aged former preteen girl base, plus me. My Mom was nearly laughed out of Barnes & Noble recently when she asked about their new release, This Is Us. Oh well, I'll just get it at the mall when I get back to Assumption. Justin Timberlake got himself a nice solo career, but I'm beginning to wonder if he ever plans on making a third album. Nelly Furtado's career has been contemporaneous with the decade. I have yet to get her new CD Mi Plan; though I don't follow my musicians too closely, I suspect I never heard of this one because it's in Spanish. Concerning She Who Must Not Be Stage-named, I'd be a bigger fan if she wasn't so darn evil. Her pop hits embody all the artificiality and purposeful superficiality which makes pop music great. Social critics often slam artists for singing about situations they've never experienced, i.e. being poor and jobless, and Ms. Germanotta zinged them one with "Paparazzi". Likening love to the press attention the stars contend with daily, she brought the common pop theme up/down to her own level. My, but my heart sinks into my stomach when I see how she dresses, not to mention how she wastes her time hawking gay causes. Until she wises up, I can't buy her albums in good conscience.

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What else happened last decade? To sum up everything I can't cover: Pirates are back, and not just on the silver screen. Forget Pirates of the Caribbean--pirates now have a Swedish MEP. And shockingly, non-Internet piracy is back along the coast of Somalia, and more menacing than ever. Today's pirates capture much larger ships--such as oil tankers--with small, agile crafts launched from the anarchy that is the horn of Africa. Even with their modern weapons, today's pirates can't help get caught up in the romance of the pirates of yore. Witness this hilarious Somali pirate montage from Wikipedia. They look pretty proud of what they do:

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That's all. If you have some reminiscences you think I should've included, tell me so in the commbox.

2009-12-28T21:15:00.011-05:00

Greetings, readers. I am--if perchance we have never had the pleasure--Keigo Atobe, the new Guy with the Tie in the neighborhood. As I was surfing the 'net a few days past, I came across a fine blog, named The Young and Once Good Pundit, but pity thing! no sooner had I lain eyes upon it than it disappeared. After a lengthy inquiry, I discovered that the prior owner was set on abandoning it. Not that it was a bad blog, as he said in my confidence, but he was concerned over the fundamental goodness of blogging. Is there still, he asked, a net benefit to a good and moral blog even if its audience, that is the good, receive an incentive to quit their walks and book reading for the Internet, a notorious portal to iniquity and a magnificent waster of time? He is a firm believer--as am I--in the goodness of God's Creation, and of the virtue of the way of being-at-work lived by man until his own artifices began to fundamentally shift the way we must live in order to eke out a decent existence. I have, however, not come to the Crusader's ludditical conclusions; suffice it that I perceive more clearly the goods which come from maintaining a Catholic, conservative weblog such as this one. After some wrangling, and a concession on my part that the Crusader retain the right to publish, I have been handed this weathered little outpost, and have re-christened it, after my delightful movie (more on this must-see to come), A Blog from Atobe.

Reader, you are right to have questions. First off, you may wonder who-in-the-heck I am. Maybe you do indeed know me as the Atobe from the fabulous manga/anime The Prince of Tennis--if so join my fan club here--but you never imagined I was a living, breathing person, but just a cartoon character. Anyone who thought that is wrong. My good friend Takeshi Konomi was actually just writing about the exceptional season the Seishun Gakuen (Seigaku) tennis club had in 1999. The anime was, albeit, more dramatization than documentary, but that was largely necessary since most of the action went unfilmed, and we were all called back to reenact that year of triumphs and--for my beloved Hyotei Gakuen, among others--our regrettable failures. If you were perplexed by the appearance of all the kids who were still supposedly 12, 13, and 14, now you know why they looked and acted just shy of their majority. (What a trial it was on the makeup artists to keep our appearances consistent for the four years of anime!) Moreover, unlike Crusader but like everyone else these days I, Atobe, have a Facebook here, though as you can see I tired of it as of July. So if either of us is a phony, it's him.

I still must explain just what led to the present business. Why am I, Atobe, whom you will remember as the immensely popular (and immensely rich) captain of the tennis club at my Jr. High alma mater, Hyotei, one of the best tennis players in all Japan, already playing at a pro level at 14, dawdle hours and hours on the blog of a decidedly plebeian rightist with a Western religion? Remember that I was but 14 years of age in 1999, when the manga and anime were set; I am now 24, and a lot has happened in my life since the events there portrayed. Most importantly, just a few months after the manga ended I, Atobe, became a catechumen and entered the Roman Catholic Church the following Easter. I know, I know, it certainly seems out of character. I've always got the spotlight, and I know it--this fan was right to set me to a pretentious Britney tune. But right as the Nationals were wrapping up, two of the club members, Ryo Shishido and Chotaro Ohtori, began to be drawn to a Catholic church by Providence, even though neither had had much contact with Christianity. Since it made a nice aesthetic shot, they even included one such visit in the anime, though from before they came to believe (to see it, skip to 12:52 on ova episode 8). Well, it made quite the hubbub when they word of their conversion hit the world of Jr. High tennis, but you should've seen the gawkers when, after many leisured discussions with the pair I, Atobe, announced my intention to convert with them! The rest, as the Americans say, is history. The three of us were inclined toward traditionalism when we ran across Fr. Thomas Onoda from the SSPX mission in Tokyo. The SSPX in Japan could fit into a Mariott room, needs more priests, and could use an improved website; maybe I should pitch in a few yen one of these days and soak them with some much needed assistance.

Another reason for having A Blog from Atobe is that I share Crusader88's far Right politics. Always have. They didn't want to bring it in to the manga, but the Atobe family is renowned for using its dough (and me my tennis fame) to boost nationalist and patriotic causes. Just before the manga got going, my whole family was energetically campaigning for now-Governor Ishihara. At times coach Sakaki gave me a real talking-to for causing too much of a hubbub with the local Uyoku dantai. Though Japanese nationalists often have an anti-American attitude because of the management of military affairs by the United States, Crusader is an isolationist paleoconservative, so when I went to the USA for an Assumption education (I was so busy with the The Prince of Tennis anime that I couldn't enter college until Fall 2008, so even though I'm Crusader's senpai in years, he's one class above me!), and discovered the fate of this blog, I couldn't but feel an opportunity in taking the wheel.

Now that we have been properly introduced, I have some business to attend to. You see, Crusader88 had a sonnet due for one Agnes Regina, a good Catholic traditionalist blogger girl he met online. She blogs here with a few friends. The man was out of ideas, and gave up on writing a worthy sonnet to fulfill her request. Hence I, Atobe was called upon to pen one for him.

俺様の美技に酔いな! Or to use the English, Be awed at the sight of my prowess!

Sonnet CXXXV

Our Agnes, Queen, is Argentinian

By birth, but the United States have since

Become her home. A special Providence,

Now, brings her to New England. Second in

A healthy clan's eleven children, she

Distinguishes herself as pianist,

For nowhere in the wide world does exist

A maiden more attuned to melody.

That genius carries over into poems--

A little formulaic, pieties

That put the reader on their praying knees.

Atop her Vespa Tesla, Agnes brings

This grace to bear on every place she goes,

A grace that, like her hair, just grows and grows.

Though the request was for a sonnet, I stereotypically thought up a haiku for the fair lady. Now, like Crusader, I'm actually much more familiar with sonnets given my education heavy in Western culture, but on a cue the inspiration hit me:

My Agnes' name falls

like orange-red yarn from fingers

into toddler's hands.

For now I, Atobe, am back in Japan, enjoying Christmas in my chateau with my as-yet nonreligious family (prayers). Though Crusader may not have better to do, I do, so for now, this has been Atobe, the King of Tennis--

Be awed at the sight of my prowess!

2009-12-18T03:27:00.002-05:00

At long last, I am back home, curled up in a rocking chair with a candle at the side table... get caught with a candle at AC, and you might lose your housing. Nope, not here. Finals and term papers are, at long last, despatched, and rather well if I may say so. As I told my friends, whenever I despaired or simply felt lazy, I motivated myself by thinking of anime. When the going gets tough, the tough take a break to watch anime. If I ever had a daunting paper to write for a reputedly hard grader, I'd don my Prince of Tennis thinking cap and say to myself, "~, just hit a boomerang snake and show them how it's done!" (Watch the video; its only 1 min. long). Grades, by the way, come out on December 23, my 21st birthday, so I hope they'll make a nice present.

The tree is already up, so I am free to do some leisure reading (pursuant to my Dante class, I just began the late Fr. Ernest Fortin's Dissent and Philosophy in the Middle Ages: Dante and His Precursors), watch Glenn Beck and Red Eye, and sort through the month's political mailings. As usual, I have no cash on hand to help out the noble beggars come to my mailbox, but I am rather heartened by what I read. A belated letter from the National Organization for Marriage on the Maine victory, a few appeal from theologically orthodox convents and seminaries, a few petitions to send away. Perhaps best of all was the letter from House Minority Leader John Boehner on behalf of the National Republican Congressional Committee. The rhetoric of the Republican establishment has been increasingly populistic for a while now, but I was especially pleased by this paragraph:

Obama and Pelosi are beholden to the liberal special interests that bankroll their campaigns with hundreds of millions of dollars. Your opinions and concerns do not matter. To them, you are part of an "angry mob" or just a "mindless zombie" tricked into opposing them by talk-radio or a cable-news network.

Truly, how America would get along without Fox News I can't imagine. For the first time in years, the G.O.P. is more popular than the Democratic Party. {Certainly a good thing versus the alternative, though not so much thanks to the Republican example than as to President Barack H. Obama. Remarkable how he squandered his outstanding popularity in less than a year.} But there has been some Republican initiative I've been keeping up with. Besides Rand Paul, whom I've mentioned as running for Senate in Kentucky, I was excited to learn about one candidate from the lovely state of Iowa. Bob Vander Plaats, website here, promises to issue an executive order to stay the gay "marriages" forced on the state by its supreme court until it's put to a vote (why didn't Mitt Romney do that for us?). This guy is great. As a conservative Christian (and, it seems, Dutch) he's received support from a blogger/employee on Mike Huckabee's HuckPac and, for the liberals in the audience, he's been- I was flabbergasted to learn this- endorsed by the local NAACP President! The guy's a Baptist minister, so he understands the importance of the family, among other things. Good luck to Vander Plaats.

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I've been ranting for a while, but one more thing. Massachusetts voters should check out Scott Brown's campaign site. Running against Martha Coakley, the guy's a long, long shot, but I'm gonna try and get the word out anyway, since he's outstanding by Massachusetts standards. As you can see here, he's against amnesty, giving illegal immigrants in-state tuition and driver's licenses (Governor Deval Patrick ran promising to provide those; only in Massachusetts), wants to leave the definition of marriage to the states, and while he's not pro-life, he at least supports a few restrictions.

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Oh, I'm getting bad, one last, last thing I JUST found. This is funny!

2009-12-09T19:28:00.004-05:00

My Dante's Comedy class was canceled this morning, as there was a good fall of snow which subsequently turned to rain. It was, however, our last class, so we'll never get to discuss Dante's encounter with the Trinity. It seems as if, having glimpsed God, his last guide St. Bernard of Clairvaux turned him away and said, "All right, you have seen everything there is to see- let's go back now!" How unsatisfying it would be if there were but 99 cantos rather than 100!

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Gather 'round the hearth, and be all the family refreshed by a round of tea, coffee, and hot chocolate! It's that time of year again! Fortunately, there was little agonizing over this year's Christmas sonnet, which I wrote after a 3:20 AM walk in a snowy field. I give you, though not perfect,

Sonnet CXXXIV The Christ Child

He pines for cherishing in crossed, warm arms
That clasp Him to their bosoms, as to suns.
The dawn itself is still so new that men's
Awakenings are still to come, in turns.
The red sun's light, Norwegian, far-off, cold,
Can't touch His face till its communional.
Still we, like smaller, nearer stars, may all
Enwrap Him till its route is halfway sailed.

So young. His body still feels moist, from birth.
That body may look fixed, but isn't yet.
In our own chest, the cartilage will set
And cozily remember, when the earth
Lies desolate again, we helped His need
When He, when He required care and ward.

May this Christmas be a delight to all, and an occasion of closeness to the Son of God. Though it is only sixteen days away, given finals and term papers, I feel like ancient Israel counting off the centuries until their Messiah should arrive. Its at times like this, especially for those with real jobs I imagine, that you could almost pray like this

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

2009-12-06T18:18:00.002-05:00

The decade, regrettably, is winding down, but the best idea of the 00s has only come to my attention in this December of 2009. After checking in on the victory in New York, I came across a site devoted to one of my favorite things: a serious joke. Californian John Marcotte is attempting a political stunt to lampoom the logic of supporters of natural marriage in the Golden State. As he describes the effort on the About page,

RescueMarriage.org is the brain-child of concerned Christian and political activist John Marcotte, who felt strongly that Prop 8 did not go far enough in protecting traditional marriage. With the help of attorneys and friends, Marcotte is attempting to ban divorce in the State of California.

Now, the guy is clearly a sarcastic liberal (I can't remember where, but one of the articles on Marcotte's efforts said he'd opposed Prop. 8), and the website graphics are not very respectful of marriage, but his logic is right on. And he really seems to be collecting signatures; if he got the measure, to be dubbed the 2010 California Marriage Protection Act, on the ballot, I perceive four advantages:

-Christians would be able to vote their conscience and witness Christ's teaching on the indissolubility of marriage.

-Even satire can help to reopen the discussion on this social ill, which has long been accepted as if it were natural.

-The Catholic bishops, Protestant and Mormon churches, and pro-family orgs would all have to take public stands on the issue. While liberals often point out that St. Paul, and not Jesus, spoke against homosexuality in Romans I (as if God had never made use of preachers to spread His message for Him in the past- and the while forgetting what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah), there is no getting around the Christian teaching on the indissolubility of marriage. The Sermon on the Mount... that's as Christian as it gets. Either the clergy and spokesmen would get behind the initiative, or they would make fools of themselves for opposing the teachings from Christ's own mouth.

-If enough college morons, Hollywood liberals, and nonbelieving homosexuals jokingly voted with the minority of believing Christians and Oscar Wildes in California, could it actually pass?...

If I had a Facebook, I'd immediately join their already over 22,000 members here, so I recommend that course of action for you, my audience. A token donation would be in order, too, minus that I wouldn't trust this guy with a red cent.

2009-12-01T20:09:00.004-05:00

Bad news. During a "study break", I was perusing The Technodrome, a website devoted to that classic cartoon series of the 80s and 90s, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. The site's not the bad part; I'm glad to see a site devoted to an old favorite show going strong after 10 years, so it's headed for the sidebar. But there was some old news I'd missed posted there- Nickelodeon has acquired the rights to TMNT and is planning a new series and movie. That wouldn't be bad either, except that, like everything these days, they'll be in CGI, one of the numerous, though onerous, banes of my existence. Why adulterate the fine series, which lives so happily in the memories of all us Babies of the 80s?

Why, for that matter, was I thinking about the series at the library, you might ask? As my mind wandered whilst writing a paper (which I later finished), I was giggling about one of the sillier associations I've subconsciously made in my mind. For some reason, Sen. Jon Kyl of Arizona (left) reminds me of Bebop (right) from TMNT. Hmm. What do the two gentlemen have in common? Kyl is certainly the more genteel of the pair. Well, Kyl and Bebop are both steadfastly against gun control!

2009-11-30T19:23:00.003-05:00

Thanksgiving wasn't all that great (none of the extended family came over), but there is much I am belatedly thankful for. The Swiss have voted to ban the construction of minarets. The joyous news, as I read it in the New York Times this morning, took me by surprise- the prospects of victory had looked quite grim in the pre-referendum polling. I suppose that, as with gay "marriage" votes, some are simply too squeamish to give their real opinions to pollsters. Sadly, Rome was no help at all, with both the Swiss bishops and Vatican officials criticizing the vote. Gone are the days when the Church launched the crusades and promoted the Holy League to prevent the Muslim conquest of Europe. The defense of Christendom is indeed a thankless task. As the Conference of Swiss Bishops said, the ban "heightens the problems of cohabitation between religions". That is the point exactly. Apart from protecting their skyline from Islamic defacement is, the Swiss have sent a message that they won't allow Islamification without a fight. There is room for only one Faith in Europe (thankfully, Switzerland isn't in the EU; if it were a court would toss out this praiseworthy referendum in a second).

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Also of interest, just as I finished up Marmalade Boy, I was happy to discover that rarity of rarities, pro-life manga! A bit earlier, there was a nice appearance of the picturesque Oura Catholic Church in the protagonists' walk though Nagasaki. Manga characters frequently wear crosses, and even treat Christianity as a native religion in some circumstances; were it not for the obligatory attendance at Shinto temples around New Year's, they would be indistinguishable from genuine Christians. Despite their purely cultural interest in Christian iconography, I expect that, were the EU Constitution/Lisbon Treaty written by an assembly of non-believing manga-ka, it would have mentioned Europe's roots in the Faith.

2009-11-21T21:57:00.009-05:00

East indeed. Weekends are my prime opportunity to read manga. Since a kind, kind friend gave our Pundit all eight volumes of Marmalade Boy a month ago, this week #5 was up (but I find the cover on #4 too amusing to pass up). Notwithstanding, I have as little good to say about the East Side (of the USA) as usual. The weekend is just half over, and I've already come into contact with enough anti-social poets and heathen WPI students to leave my mind feeling unclean (I will spare the details, but I swear, whenever those WPI kids board the bus to the mall, the mean IQ drops 20 points). For those interested in the real East Side and whatnot, I found this funny hand sign guide for y'all to enjoy. And, to my fellow Yankees, be happy you weren't raised in LA; just look at the illiterate Myspace I got the East Side from!

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As bad as poets and students might be, we did have a few fine student poets at an Assumption poetry event yesterday. I read "Sonnet CXXXI", but would have read the newer poem below were it not for the circumstances. Penned for one Miss Taylor Nunez, it's entitled

Sonnet CXXXIII~ the Tudor Cherryblossom

A wholesome girl arises from the ground.
Belonging so much that she stands apart,
I learned her character is in the art
Incorporated with her when I found
A Tudor cherryblossom or a rose
Or an azalea tattoo she put,
Like a convenient cinque'foil, on her foot.
It's visible whenever Taylor goes
To find a dance at night, or saunters through
The pale and early morning, so to eat,
Abloom below black tights that never meet,
Her ankles. My advice is that, should you
Encounter Taylor, try to get to know
Her well, so friendship flower's roots will grow.

Hers is the first tattoo I have seen that is an addition to rather than a mutilation of a woman's beauty (and probably the last, as I tried to argue her out of plans to submit to the needle in the future). Taylor was actually present to cover the event for the Provoc, but sadly her cherry blossom tattoo (which looks more like a Tudor rose) was obscured, so she could not indeed be my Exhibit A; apparently her leggings do sometimes "meet her ankles".

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For the first time, I think, I have a favorite painting. Yester evening, I was milling through the Kevin Alfred Strom Art Gallery, the site of the renowned white nationalist. His taste is impeccable, and my, some of the works simply make one's heart melt. Witness the sweetness of Morgan Weistling's "Emerald Dreams", left. Weistling, apparently, is a contemporary American artist who adores to paint rustic images of this sort, as well as some Christian images. His website is here. However, the favorite I spoke of is John Everett Millais's "Apple Blossoms", below. It rather reminds me of the Campus Ministry office, where Assumption's ladies of beauty and virtue are often gathered in wholesome company. If young women were like that, it would be my utopia. Not that men too haven't strayed from their proper occupations, manners of conversation, and dress, but I have a feeling we are more hopeless, so 50% will just have to cut it.

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Finally, as I was browsing the 2010 Senate races on Wikipedia, I was surprised to learn of Rand Paul's good fortunes. I knew one of Ron Paul's sons was planning to run for Senate in Kentucky, but I hadn't heard of how well his campaign's taken off. In the polls, he's caught up to the other Republican, and he's within a few points of potential Democrats for the November election; he can easily catch up in the meantime. The younger Dr. Paul, website here, is the real deal- proudly pro-life, wants out of the UN, and against the Iraq war ... yeah, remember that? Obama has been Nixonianly slow with his withdrawal.

2009-11-10T13:22:00.003-05:00

This morning I picked up a copy of the Worcester Telegram & Gazette, a respectable local newspaper of a centrist orientation. The above-the-fold article reports that Martha Coakley, the front runner for the Democratic primary ahead of the election to replace Senator Kennedy, would vote against the health care reform bill because the anti-abortion Stupak amendment passed. My my, Democrats are always trying to outdo themselves in devilishness, but this is ridiculous. Even the far-left Boston Globe thinks she's gone too far (naturally, the Globe treats abortion as an obligation recipients of government subsidized health care would be "forced" to pay for). The other three contenders for the nomination, despite their pro-choice position, would still have voted for the bill, so perhaps it would be worth the time of registered Democrats to vote for one of the either Capuano, Khazei, or Pagliuca as they see fit (I recommend Capuano- if he won there'd be an opening for a Republican challenger in his district). Neither of the Republican candidates- moderate Scott Brown and liberal Jack E. Robinson III- for the seat are stellar, but I suppose expecting there to be one pro-life candidate among the six is rather too much in the Bay State.

[UPDATE: Rep. Capuano performed a singularly royal flip-flop on the issue in just one day, so that leaves just two somewhat more pragmatic pro-choicers to choose from.]

However, my own representative, Richard Neal, deserves a shout out- he voted for the Stupak amendment (he even gets flowers in his picture). He deserves our thanks for that- Northampton's congressional district does not deserve a Democrat of his decency. Still, he's far from ideal, so imagine my pleasure when I learned that, after twelve years of running unopposed, he has not one, but two Republican challengers lined up for November 2010! Tom Wesley (right) is a Navy veteran, while Dr. Jay Fleitman (left) has a special place in my heart- like Our Pundit, he's a Republican from Northampton! His campaign has apparently been active since April, so he apparently missed me during the summer. But he has- brave, brave soul!- been campaigning in the streets of ~~Gomorrah~~ Northampton. The following passage and picture are taken from a July post on his blog chronicling these ventures; I reproduce them for their sheer charm:

The first foray into a public venue that is not already political, and the sidewalk sale in Northampton does just fine. A warm, sunny day, the sidewalks are full. It seemed like it would be a good idea to find out who is from my district, so I approached folks by asking if they were from Northampton or Hadley. It shouldn't have surprised my that 9 in 10 were not. There were a large percentage from Connecticut, and NY, with a smattering from Florida as well as a Hawaiian.

I expected to get assaulted by the locals, as Northampton is a very Democratic town, but only one of the natives absolutely refused to even look at a Republican. He needs a sense of humor...

Having one of their local physicians running for congress is clearly a curiosity.

He may not be Dr. Paul, but he may yet prove to be just the prescription for the Springfield district's woes. Their issues pages aren't much different, but Mr. Wesley is reputed to be more conservative by the bloggers I've surveyed, while Fleitman is more a one issue (health care) man. Naturally, neither of them is bragging about their pro-life or pro-family credentials, if they have any. Otherwise, Dr. Fleitman seems to be Jewish, whilst Wesley makes note of his involvement in the West Avon Congregational Church. It's nice that he's a Christian (Rep. Neal is Catholic), but in Northampton the Congregational Church is best known for abetting the heathens, colluding with the atheist Left, and making obnoxiously un-patriotic displays around Independence Day. But he doesn't seem to be of that mold (maybe in West Avon Congregationalists are still Christians)- might he be, rather, the next Calvin Coolidge? That exemplar of all that was best in the New England Protestant spirit would be ashamed of the UCC today. May Wesley impress the schismatics of the commonwealth with his fine example.

2009-11-06T22:02:00.006-05:00

One sonnet is never enough. Some months ago my friend Christina Graziano, an SGA executive and the recipient of "Sonnet XC", politely requested another poem. I protested- What if all the ladies demanded additional poetry? There'd be no end to it!- but since she'd become an exec in the meantime, it did fit with my tradition of writing sonnets for all the female execs. But for months and months not one inspiration came to me, until last night when I went to the lounge to do my homework. Christina and I are in the same Dante's Comedy class, and I realized that, reading at the rate of one canto a day, Friday the 6th is the day Dante enters Paradise: the perfect occasion for a sonnet. It describes a sweethearted habit of staring-unto-smiling we've developed:

Sonnet CXXXII - ~'s Comedy

I leave my Hell and Purgatory in
The Comedy; my heaven walks with me
To Charlie's. As she starts typing, we
Discuss our classes. Often, I begin
To stare. Christina answers me. Although
Her eyes of cocoa liquor, bright but flat
Will hardly shift, I start to notice that
She's trying to manipulate me so
That I will smile. Dante cannot hold
His breath for long when wise Matilda dips
Him in the Lethé; neither can our lips
Refrain from looking quite the same. I fold
My arms around her smaller body, say
Some things to make my gentile lady's day.

Professor explained that by comedy, Dante meant being brought from a bad situation to a good, the opposite of tragedy. Hence the title.

2009-11-04T12:15:00.002-05:00

All I can say, folks, is YES!1!1! 53/47 again, baby! Had you asked me the day before, I never would've guessed Maine had it in herb to stand up to the gay "marriage" mob. A friend with whom I was sharing the good news this morning was wearing a black-and-white striped shirt; as I told him, it would've been more appropriate attire had we lost. Unlike Bay Staters, Mainers needn't worry about getting fired for their belief in marriage according to nature. This is as close as traditional marriage can get to a positive victory; as the northernmost state of New England, I expected, and have a feeling most others did too, that once Maine went to the heathens we weren't getting it back. But Fortress New England has been stormed, and Question 1 has earned its place alongside Proposition 8. I suppose something of the Christian knight remains in the New England minuteman yet.

And if that isn't good enough, the Republicans swept the governorships in Virginia and New Jersey. The governor-elect of Virginia, Robert F. McConnell, is a good Catholic who really excites me. Apparently, in his younger years, he resembled yours truly. As you may read in the linked article (keep in mind it's in AP idiom),

At age 34, he wrote a 93-page thesis for his graduate degree that called working women a detriment to society and argued that government was justified in discriminating against gays and unmarried "cohabitators" to shield traditional families.

Naturally, he went on to say his views have changed. My hope-against-hope is that they haven't. Either way, good for him. Meanwhile Christopher J. Christie, a less socially conservative Catholic, won in New Jersey, which really surprised me. While I wish he were more pro-life, I consider him the political equivalent of a Christmas and Easter Catholic, since he's promised to at least veto any gay marriage bills, and is a huge supporter of parochial schooling. However much traditionalists may rightly criticize Christie, and however watered down Catholic schooling has become, keeping more kids out of public schooling could save hundreds, even thousands of souls over the years when you think about it.

On the subject of oversized politicians, things didn't turn out so well in Northampton. How, how did Mary Clare Higgins win a sixth term!! She's been mayor since I was in elementary school, and as I said a few posts ago, she came in second in the primary, but no such luck in the general election. And yes, the Conservative lost in New York's 23rd district, but you can't win 'em all.

Giddy as I am, I am celebrating by sporting my Republican National Committee pin for the day. When I stopped by the Campus Ministry office, a friend and I jacked up some Frank Sinatra- I'm talking "New York, New York". Quite a nice contrast to last year, when Mozart's "Requiem" was more appropriate fare.

[Ah, gotta love it when stars SMOKE!!]

2009-10-31T16:57:00.002-04:00

A Happy Halloween to all! I have often thought on what a unique holiday Halloween is: in modern times, it is the only day of the year a person may arrive at a stranger's door and expect hospitality- what would the ancient Greeks think? Consider it fortunate that confectioners took charge of Halloween festivities instead of Mattel. Our Pundit, in case you should wonder, dressed up for the occasion on Thursday (Taylor Dining Hall had their festivities early). Donning a scary skull mask, I bore a tray I found in a lounge (it's mine!) and taped a paper reading: "Bring trays back... from the DEAD" on the front. A hit, as expected.

*************

Though I've been a bit down since the hate crimes bill, the news from New York's 23rd congressional district has me excited. Conservative party candidate Doug Hoffman is in a dead heat with the Democratic candidate, Bill Owens. A third party candidate actually has a chance of winning against a liberal Democrat and a liberal Republican! Even should he lose, it will teach the New York Republican party to avoid liberals if they don't want to end up in 3rd place. And Republicans are in place to pick up the governorship of Virginia, and there's another tie in New Jersey. Dare I hope that, for the first time since 2004, it will actually be a Republican year? Naturally, I don't have any Republicans to vote for in Northampton. Sigh.

2009-10-20T21:04:00.002-04:00

Too much Ralph Waldo Emerson can be a good thing. Last night I was trying to finish his "Nature" (1836) essay, but wanted to turn in for the night instead. Emerson is not a difficult writer- his writing is colorful and imagerial, though at the cost of consistency, which he openly spurns and disregards- but he grew redundant fast. Bored, though not beyond my wits I hope, I wrote a poem as an intellectual compromise between monotony and sleep.

Sonnet CXXXI

The light, the shine, the residue of God
Peeks out at me as I'm returning to
The dorm. I have a lot of work to do,
But I look up, and almost see Him nod
Me on my way. I want to touch Him, like
The shiny dimes in public fountains that
Are tempting when my wallet's feeling flat,
But lo and, halfway on my homeward hike,
His hand is messing up my hair, like rain.
The sky is covered, but I follow whim
And linger, so to spend some time with Him.
Though coming out to walk must be a pain,
His seeing stars and moon are gonna try
Since God (I know Him) isn't very shy.

Beauty in Nature is elusive when we hunt it out, saith Emerson, but I'm usually able to experience it just as well on my planned excursions and outings. Hence the sonnet, with all of the inspiration and none of the pantheism.

2009-10-13T01:44:00.003-04:00

Work, work, work. I would have blogged sooner had I the time- for once my deficit was of time only and not of ideas- but the last two weeks were piled ceiling high, since I now need to read augment the normal work for my six classes with research for my Honors Thesis, the preliminary to my Honors Capstone project. The first draft of the thesis proposal is due in less than three weeks. My subject is to be man under democracy according to de Tocqueville and Nietzsche. Many and interesting are the reflections I have had on the two, especially de Tocqueville, whose attempts to legitimize modern democracy for the faithful, and his belief that religion and piety can be relied upon to moderate modern egalitarianism in the long run, leave much to be desired (looks pretty suave though; Nietzsche not so much). Nietzsche, a half century later, got it right in Twilight of the Idols when, in a "whisper to conservatives", he explains that [within the dialectics of a modern democracy] man cannot be stopped where he is, but- one can almost hear his voice turn from snickering to gentle sympathy- is doomed to become weaker and weaker, to devolve unto the last man. Elsewhere, he contends that Darwin misunderstood evolution- it is the weaker and more numerous members of the species, not the superior few, who prevail. Though Nietzsche's vision is much more hostile to the Faith than de Tocqueville's, those of Catholic sensibilities are unlikely to find Nietzsche's condemnations of "pity" as he finds it in the Christian religion damning. De Tocqueville, however, offers what I see as a false remedy to the degradations democracy affects on the human spirit, a problem Nietzsche addresses with the utmost zeal. Though he was, as one of his works is entitled, an Antichrist, his wisdom is the refutation of the divers Antichrists of our own day (John Rawls, Fareed Zakaria, I could go on and on...)

Okay, maybe I've had some free time. But I tell you, if I couldn't keep up with Ryoma Echizen, The Prince of Tennis, and the rest of the Seigaku Tennis Club as they try to become prefectural champs, my life would simply be over. Yes, anime has managed to get me, that most un-sportive of men, into a tennis show! On a more typical note, I've also gotten into Rosario + Vampire. The series is, by way of understatement, risque, so there are few excuses to promote it on a Catholic blog. Excepting that one of the protagonists, Akashiya Moka, is a vampire whose powers are hidden unless the cross on the "rosario" on her chest is removed by her friend Aono Tsukune, the main character. Not much like an actual rosary, but I find these vacuous usages of popish things, especially when they involve a cute and innocent damsel like Moka, irresistible.

One final thing. Today I was reading through the Hobbes chapter of Pierre Manent's An Intellectual History of Liberalism. Hobbes being so evil, I desired to make light of his thoughts with some humor. Then I thought back to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, which I read just before the semester began. Pondered I, wouldn't it be cool if instead of the Leviathan ruling,

The Cheshire Cat was LARGE and IN CHARGE!!!

2009-10-01T19:57:00.007-04:00

Some things are to funny for words. Sadly, save the ever-helpful Google Image Search, words are all I have. Yesterday Assumption College held a colloquium to remember Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn on the first anniversary of his death. Ignat Solzhenitsyn, his son and a renowned musician in his own right, was a special guest (we've got connections. The other week I found an autographed copy of Allan Bloom's The Closing of the American Mind-great book- in the library). However, nearly everyone at the college has a cold, and I was very far from the exception. Tissueless, throat sore, nose running, I could barely pay attention to a lecture on The Red Wheel. And I didn't want to be rude by wiping my nose or sniffling. SO... fate had it that I had a dozen fortune cookies in my pockets from Taylor Dining Hall (to replace vending machine snacks for my late night studying). I figured, correctly, that eating would soothe my throat and alleviate the on symptoms, so I began discreetly chowing down. Or so I hoped. In the front row, I couldn't help but be heard, and in a while a professor gave me a genuine Poke of Death on the shoulder, so I stopped. The next day I brought up the incident while talking with a professor of mine who'd been on the colloquium panel. "Yeah," he replied, "Ignat told me, 'There was this one guy in front who just ate fortune cookie after fortune cookie the whole time.'" How embarrassing! I fear he would recall, "Oh, you're the guy who ate all the fortune cookies!" should our paths ever cross again, so it's a good thing I'm not a piano aficionado.

*************

Meanwhile Leisure, the Basis of Culture has inspired another delightful sonnet. A girl in my class has a name which reminds me of a bad old 1960s song, so I jokingly proposed she change it to Maybell, so she could say Maybelline was named for her and that, as Justin Timberlake says in "Damn Girl," she

Don't need no Maybelline,
Cause you a beauty queen.

I have always loathed makeup after all. Women: save the money and save the freckles. Back to the point. Inaugurating such a fine new name demands a festival. In part V of the lecture eponymous with the book, Josef Pieper notes that, without grounding in religious cult, which takes root in leisure and time spared from servile work, celebrations are always artificial rather than organic. Though Pieper bemoans the phony celebrations so rampant in our the modern world, I decided to organize an artificial event myself.

Sonnet CXXVIII

The maybells rang, songs singing from the lips
As breezes swashed the strands from every bough
To other, slumping inbetween, like how
The ribbons hang at auto dealerships.
A maypole, hoisted like a fasces, bound
Atop with ribbons on an iron hook,
Is slidden to the ground. The pagans look
For explanation, none is to be found.
They reveled still, and round the maypole ran,
So consecrating that October 1,
A day within the year that wasn't worst
For artificial feasting as began
To bring the maybells out of moths, as due,
And holiday for them— I mean, for you!

A little pre-Christian, but it sounds a lot more fun than Presidents' Day. I have, come to think of it, concocted a lot of cool ideas regarding the proper appropriation of less-than-popish culture. Recently I saw a well-cut, hilarious video of Lou Bega's "Mambo #5," the quintessential 90s song, set to the anime Love Hina. Back in 5th grade (ahh, the Elder Days!!), the school bused kids to the bowling alley to play two games each Friday. The second game was Disco Bowl, and aside from "YMCA" and Backstreet Boys hits, "Mambo #5" was a staple, assuring the melody personal legend status. Lately it occurred to me, "Hey! 'Mambo #5' is King Solomon Catholicism!" Should I become SGA President next year, I'll have to blast the Bega classic from my cubicle as often as possible.

2009-09-29T15:21:00.002-04:00

Last week, we were arguing about the nature of experiences of the intellectus, or in layman's terms those timess when we feel a connection with the Beyond, such as we may receive when watching a sunrise or looking into the night sky (or my favorite, patrolling the parking lot of a mall!). The discussion soon darted to an important consideration: are these experiences the highest point of human life? One among us objected that man is a social animal, and hence it cannot be so since these are individual experiences. I posited that the best of these experiences is communion with God in the Eucharist, and mention was made of lovers gazing into each-other's eyes, an example from Leisure, the Basis of Culture, the book we were discussing. Still, we did not reach a satisfactory conclusion. Two days ago, though, the objection was set aside forevermore: I had one of those experiences as I listened to another's words.

Some individuals are saints. Some people are such saints that they walk the world like immutable suns. During the usual late night in the lounge (2 AM), I heard out one such soul. A self-described go-to person, she has saved lives by hearing stories and, like a priest bound by the seal of confession, securing them unconditionally. A consolation in dire moments, great-souled for her boundless compassion, she professes the helping of others- unto the saving of the world even, and I believe her- as her vocation. And almost one of necessity. As she said it, she lives with a severe insomnia and a tendency toward immoderate lengths of sleep- the only time she ever got to sleep as long as she wanted and wake up naturally, she slept 18 hours! For that reason, she invariably remains awake late into the night, awakening after only the briefest rest. Understandably the condition frustrates her, but as I pointed out, if she weren't up so late, she couldn't be the go-to girl. Ergo, the condition points to the authenticity of her vocation. Only in death will she be a beauty who has (having heard those in need out unto her last breath) fallen asleep, as we Christians say it.

Inspired, I wrote her a sonnet, which she simply adored. The title is a play on her name and a variation of a joke I made off of it: "You're pretty in lieu of... getting any sleep!"

Sonnet CXXVII- Bellelieu

Her soul is pretty in the lieu of sleep.
A two s'd Ulysses, she hears sweet songs,
Enticing stories of dramatic wrongs.
No hours close her eyes, no ropes can keep
Her from the sides of those who have a thing
To say, or still her lust to do the good.
The tempest sprays on every side, and would
Subsume her, and some others, were the swing
Of captainacy missing at the wheel.
Told everything, and trusted not to tell,
The secrets given this artesian well,
In time, are pacified by Jesus' heal.
His Blood absolves them, readying the balm,
That she may slumber, ocean dead, and calm.

She especially enjoyed the presence of Jesus, which I thought a stock reference, since she was working on a Bible paper! Moral of the story: if you are trustworthy to man, God will trust you with His goods as well.

2009-09-17T20:33:00.013-04:00

In sad news, I learn that Taro Aso, formerly admired on this blog, is no longer the Prime Minister of Japan. I know little very little about his successor, Yukio Hatoyama, save that he's a member of the center-left Democratic Party, may not be so easygoing as his Liberal Democratic Party predecessor was. At least, according to Wikipedia, he comes from a family engaged in politics since the Meiji Era; ironically, his grandfather was a co-founder and the first PM of the LDP his party just threw out of power. Alas, the Catholic light of the East, everyone's favorite manga otaku, passes into political history. May he be sweetly remembered in the histories yet to be written! Shown below is one of a dozen gorgeous photos I found of him in an audience with our beloved Supreme Pontiff.

A few other interesting bits of data. The new Newman Guide is out. Once again, Assumption College hasn't made the list, but this place has only gotten better since I arrived in the late summer of 2007 (coincidence?), so maybe by senior year the Newman Guide pride will finally be ours. At least, unlike our rival Holy Cross, we are a Catholic and not a "Catholic" college.

Back in Paradise City, much has happened during the short time I've been away. In the mayoral primary, Northampton's longtime mayor, who shares my last name, came in a far second after city councillor and challenger Michael Bardsley. A change-up will be refreshing- our lackluster Mary Clare Higgins has been in office since I was still in elementary school- though I expect rather little from Bardsley should he go on to victory in November. Much more distressingly, though rather old news by now, three of Northampton's five parishes are to be closed, and one of the remaining is to be degraded to a chapel of my own St. Mary of the Assumption, the only one to be left intact. I knew our pagan city of lukewarm faith could not cling to all five forever, the heroic efforts of devoted church ladies and gents notwithstanding. But five to one in a clean sweep is awful! Gone will be the historic French and Polish parishes, their stained glass inscriptions a testament to the faith of the immigrants who built them. Ah, but for the days (basically until the post-Vatican II reforms from what I gather) when St. Mary's alone was so overflowing that a second Mass needed to be held in the parish hall below to squeeze in the overflow crowd. Back then St. Mary's had five priests all to herself, and Northampton had a Catholic high school; many of the pious elderly I mentioned above fondly remember graduating from St. Michael's School, whose attractive building still exists, in the late 1950s. What Northampton might have been, had it been taken over by Roman Catholics rather than lesbians and Castro sympathizers!

Finally, I can't resist posting the following image, an example of Platonism in manga! I showed it to one of my professors, and he thought it was neat too.

Hmm, MangaFox stole back the image, so just go here :

http://img03.dc.us.mangafox.com/store/manga/1194/05-026.0/compressed/0045.jpg

2009-09-16T22:18:00.005-04:00

Though the Great Tray Revolt failed to materialize (we did not seize the day as we might have- though a good article by a pro-tray SGA colleague should be out as of today), the Student Government Association is off to a very good start this year. Besides that my committee, Policy Review, is forging ahead with its initiatives at an impressive pace, the element of whimsy, rare but necessary to every truly happy and harmonious body politic, is not absent. Most notably, we have arranged for a dancing-procession into Taylor Dining Hall tomorrow, based on a popular You Tube video, to encourage freshmen to run for SGA. Rich existence verily, though I loathe the idea of the original. As I tried to explain to the organizer of the event why pop music, no matter how fun and proper to one's frivolous moments, has no place in the celebration of sublime and sacred matrimony, I came up with an aphorism which expressed the general principle at hand:

The lights are good, except when they obscure the stars.

Restoring the holy to itself is a labor and a full time job; hoisting the worldly to the level and the improving light of the heavens is a still harder task still. Aside from the writing of a few poems which I do not feel like posting, I have been keeping at it by virtue of those constant insights which impregnate existence with meaning, and more still laughter. For the most part, these arrive in my mind as fanciful ideas or associations. Two of the best (since I
am not in the mood to reflect on today's lecture on John Rawls, and I fear the political science and philosophy I am engaged with are somewhat above the rabble) are:

The Society of Future Church Ladies: Aware of the "need" for a female counterpart to the Pickwick Club in the realm of ideas, and inspired by the piety of several young women on campus, I "founded" the society for a few lady friends who, I reasoned, are the future of that breed of church ladies who are the backbone of every parish. [Though probably older, whoever this example of femininity is she fits the bill quite nicely. One of the "members" resembles, maybe more in manners than in appearance, Rozen Maiden's Suiseiseki, above.] They were rather fond of the idea when I informed them of their membership (all that's required is being seen at daily Mass, by me, at least once, and being of course a Catholic in good standing). However, besides the activities they could organize in a Catholic community with a Dickensian imagination- frequent homely crafts events, young womens' book clubs, and dance-offs upon the sending-off or returning of the Pickwick (or dare I dream ~) Club from its adventuring, which in a Catholic context would include advertising for traditional Catholicism and promotion of the home community- they haven't much to do right now. Obsessed as I am with it, a few days ago I "presented" their honorary leader with their official theme song- what else- Ali Project's "Seishoujo Ryouiki", or "Domain of the Holy Girl", though the lyrics are perhaps not a discourse on Christian holiness.

Back to Taylor Dining Hall. I am sure Taylor made an important contribution to Assumption College, the facility is due for a timely rename. I was thinking: in light of Socrates' proposed alternative "punishment" to drinking hemlock- getting free meals for life in the Prytaneum- we should rechristen Taylor the Prytaneum, since, like students basically get fed for free by their parents as a reward for pursuing the life of the mind. At right is not the (old) Prytaneum, but what Wikipedia says was the site of Plato's Academy. I'm glad AC's classrooms aren't so cramped. Not as impressive as the School of Athens, but just as satisfying.

2009-09-08T21:17:00.002-04:00

At last I have a few minutes to write... something, that it may be known, especially by my parents, that I live still. This semester is busy beyond belief; the weekend waits before me like a mirage,

during which time, I can only hope, there will be time for those precious comics which read right to left (oh, can't wait to read Rozen Maiden volume 6!). I am, I find, such a jovial and laughloving person that, to fully savor my classes, I must always preserve a delightful moment or two from an anime or a good joke or anecdote in the back of my head to prevent boredom. Last semester it worked marvelously- may this year prove the same!

Not to say my courses were absent amusing moments in their own rights. Of all places, my Biomedical Ethics class has been witness to some big laughs of late. And we are discussing arguments on abortion! Somehow, extraterrestrials keep finding their way into our conundrums on the worth or expendability of children in the womb. Writes one supporter of legal abortion:

In searching for such criteria [for the definition of personhood or what makes one morally human], it is useful to look beyond the set of people with whom we are acquainted, and ask how we would decide whether a totally alien being was a person or not. (For we have no right to assume that genetic humanity is necessary to personhood). Imagine a space traveller who lands on an unknown planet and encounters a race of beings utterly unlike any he has ever seen or heard of. If he wants to behave morally toward these beings, he has to somehow decide whether they are people, and hence have full moral rights, or whether they are the sorts of things which he need not feel guilty about treating as, for example, a source of food.

She goes on to concoct arbitrary criteria to determine whether an individual is morally human. Yes, there would be something wrong about killing other intelligent life (though still not so wrong as killing members of one's own species, whom we must naturally give first priority). However, the writer later "highly advanced, self-aware robots or computers, should such be developed [God forbid]" to her list of the morally human, and I would never accept them. The pure artifice of man or a hypothetical other intelligent race can never rival the works of our Creator has made. Sorry IG-88.

As I noted in class, the introduction of aliens into the argument when we don't even know that other intelligent life exists tends to reduce the sense of humanity's sacredness as a species and his special place in creation. Furthermore, she does not even consider that, supposing there were another race she would consider persons, that fact does not immediately devalue human or alien fetuses. Since writers who like this type of argument always come up with their own criteria for personhood, virtually all of which would exclude those in comas or even the sleeping from the college of persons, if we abstracted from the immediate issue of the morality of abortion, the logical conclusion would not be a clean division into persons and non-persons, but a graduated scale of moral worth. There would be some we could kill in good conscience, some we need merely not kill, and some (ethicists chief among them) so important they'd deserve their own body guards or security detail. If either we or ET desire a sensible standard for the "morally human" (hate that phrase) without loopholes, the best option remains "from conception to natural death".

2009-08-29T14:30:00.003-04:00

Since it is Saturday and there are yet no buses to the Blackstone Valley Shoppes there is little to do, so in my boredom I began Burke's Reflections on the Revolution in France, a text for the upcoming semester. I rather like it (maybe I have finally grown used to 18th Century texts), but now need a break.

I might attempt to recount the many happenings of the last week of student leader training, but even the most cursory account would span too great a space to make for pleasurable reading. Suffice it to say: SGA training was productive, and helped us develop our agendas for the just-opened session of the student government more fully. This year's camping experience, at Connecticut's Camp Woodstock, though burdened with a few politically correct games, and too many exercises purportedly teaching us a sort of teamwork we could better master by getting a head start on the year's bills, was buttressed by enough BB gunnery, archery, swimming, comraderie, and midnight tomfoolery (pranking) to make the two days and a night well worth the 40 grand price tag. Nonetheless the whole silly sojourn does make a person realize that, however easy pessimism is, the well over 200 students who embark on the trip are all just as seriously concerned for the good of Assumption College and her student body as this Pundit, and one is reminded of the good element in human nature they exemplify- rather like the scene in the Apology where Socrates was astounded that so many of the jurors had voted for his innocence.

Meanwhile, sonnets were distributed, and sonnets were requested in turn. To my great and total surprise, one recipient, Miss Laura Hall, our Senate Speaker in SGA, became Miss Vermont over the summer (in the traditional Miss America competition, not to be confused with Donald Trump's Miss USA). Ah, how pretty she is, and how proud we are of her! Supposedly I would have found it out sooner if I had Face Book, BUT, since I knew it not as I wrote her poem, I can now say I was one of her groupies before she became Miss Vermont (and long before she does, we all hope, become Miss America in January). Here is her admiring poem, crowning her just as she also received her tiara as the preeminent Green Mountain girl, which she rather enjoyed and desired published as below:

Sonnet CXXII- A Fluff and Bubbles Queen

It came to me one night: Miss Laura Hall,
Our Speaker, is a Fluff and Bubbles Queen.
You're asking what exactly does that mean.
Well when I wrote it, I knew not at all,
But when I put these sentences to ink
The meaning of my intuition cleared,
And as it dried I closer closer neared.
The meanings in the titles are, I think:
-That Laura likes her conversation plush.
Her words are rarely tough, like salted meat,
A malleable fluff, or something sweet.
-A good director'd place her, all ablush,
At bath, relaxing, bubbles over breast,
Because, when happy she will smile best.

And, you see, I can't remember her ever being unhappy. I, too, have continued living the good life of late, and look forward to the beginning of classes on Monday the 31st.

2009-08-21T11:03:00.004-04:00

Today, after an about perfectly-lived summer, I return to Assumption College for SGA training. Please expect no new blog posts for a week and a few days, or for comments to be posted within that time. Though I am apprehensive about my demanding course schedule, generally I am quite happy about the whole affair. Plus, I am bringing along a nice new volume of manga- Neon Genesis Evangelion 1- to read inbetween SGA activities. Indeed, after the academic year begins, I may be in the mood to speak of something else for once!

2009-08-18T18:41:00.006-04:00

Anime can sometimes sidetrack a person. Yesterday, in George B. Sansom's A History of Japan to 1334, which I have almost finished, I read that Minamoto no Yoritomo, the first shogun, appointed constables to keep order in the provinces. Parenthetically, he noted that the original word for the officers is shugo. Instantly I lapsed into a daydream, thinking of how nice it was of Yoritomo to dispatch cute little shugo charas to provinces near and remote. Shugo charas, or guardian characters, figure prominently in the excellent Peach-Pit anime Shugo Chara!, of which I cannot get enough. Luckily I still have time for reading, however difficult it remains to pay attention.

Aside from my serious readings and delightful animes, little time is left for much else. Our Lady's Feast of the Assumption has already transpired and been duly celebrated, but, whether due to a deficit of time or of good ideas, I didn't finish my celebratory sonnet until yesterday:

Sonnet CXXIII- Mary's Assumption

A Woman perished out of charity,
Her body healthy, free of sin, with grace,
Perfections hidden by a boastless face.
The wide, magnificent disparity
Between the homely, hearthly goodness of
That Mother, sewer, psalmist for her Son,
And fallen man, who does do good, but none
So humbly as this Lady in her love,
Became apparent only after life.
She left for Heaven's houses, where she could
Rejoin her Child, Jesus. Though she would
Have merited a passage that was safe
And deathless, always following His ways,
She had Him leave her body three more days.

The songwriting details are from The Mystical City of God. In Sr. Mary Agreda's account the Mother of the Church composed and sang so many original pieces for the glory of God that I determined, if she had lived her earthly life in more recent times, her biographers would've put her career as composer/ songwriter in addition to stay-at-home mom. Of her death, Agreda was told that Mary perished instantly when the Lord ceased to supernaturally preserve her from dying on account of love. Given that normal human beings can get strokes after a shock or surprise which overwhelms their capacity, the explanation is not at all outlandish. Afterwards, the traditions say, she rose bodily in much the same manner as Christ.

And now, back to anime. Verily, except for The Journey Home on EWTN, Red Eye late, late night on Fox News, and often some network news throughout the day, I really don't watch TV. I would almost certainly nix the TV altogether if it wasn't a necessity to other family members. Indeed, my newest slogan is:

Kill Your TV...

Anime is Online!!!

2009-08-12T22:44:00.007-04:00

Rushing as I am (if sluggishly) to finish my summer reading before the return to college, I should take a few moments to note the virtues in The Way of Divine Love, a life and account of the private revelations given to Sister Josefa Menéndez (1890-1923), a Spanish-born nun who resided in France while living her vocation. From a literary standpoint, I confess, the book is one of the most redundant I have ever read- the apparitions and interactions Josefa was so blessed to receive were, apart from the message to the world, meant more as everyday reminders than material of hagiography. The repetition does, for those who persevere in the read, more chances for the saving message to sink in. Near the end of her life on earth, Jesus said, as part of a refresher he gave her before she was to report the message to the bishop:

Never shall I weary of repentant sinners, nor cease from hoping for their return, and the greater their distress, the greater My welcome. Does not a father love a sick child with special affection? Are not his care and solicitude greater? So is the tenderness and compassion of My Heart more abundant for sinners than for the just.

This is what I wish all to know. I will teach sinners that the mercy of My Heart is inexhaustible. Let the callous and indifferent know that My Heart is a fire which will enkindle them, because I love them. To devout and saintly souls I would be the Way, that making great strides in perfection, they may safely reach the harbour of eternal beatitude.

Bear with me now. While, of course, Our Lord's message of Divine Mercy and His love for us is fully communicated in the gospels, the above is a favorite of mine in the book, striking powerfully in my heart. Private revelations, as it is often said, are not necessary in themselves, but they serve as reminders in forgetting ages.

A person might imagine, though, that God's mercy and love for us, so comforting (and perhaps "affirming" in the modern's lexicon), would be easily remembered, and that reminders chiefly concerned with the need for moral reformation and penitence, or else (La Salette, Fatima) are most needed in an age which holds itself in too great esteem. Though I have seen that this is not the case, the reality still astounds me. I recently took a rather broad course which basically surveyed the universal catechism. When we were discussing the sacrament of Penance, how I was amazed when not one but several kids, raised Catholic for the most part, believed mortal are called mortal because they cannot be forgiven. Luckily, our professor frantically but most ably set straight their misconceptions, no fault of their own. For non-Catholics out of the loop, mortal are so called because 1. they are of grave matter, 2. fully willed, and 3. done by one conscious of their evil; they alienate man from God (but not His overtures), and can lead to damnation if not forgiven. Enough has been said of the unarguable worthlessness of CCD already, so I need say nothing myself. Rather, what to do?

In modern times, it seems especially hard to render believable the idea that the Creator of the Universe so loves us, that he would sacrifice His Son for our eternal happiness, and forgive, over and over and over again, our sins and indifferences against Him. Bewildered by the idea that God the First Cause really loves to His death a seemingly insignificant race inhabiting just one planet in all the expanse of space, we forget that He, who made us in His image, also sees in perspective. The geocentric model, though scientifically mistaken, is a truer map of the heart, both human and divine, than a proportional map placing the solar system and Milky Way in their astronomical niches. Observe:

How, still, to communicate this to make it understandable? As I said, we are fortunate to have all the resources needed in the gospel, so all that must be done is a little explication. The Parable of the Lost Coin would be especially helpful here. Usually overshadowed by the Parable of the Lost Sheep, remember, the old widow finds a lost coin, and is so excited, she invites over the neighbors to celebrate. A priest-professor had fun pointing out the absurdity in an Early Church course I once took. Sometimes the only way to communicate God's love is by a nonsensical anecdote. To put it in terms of Assumption College terms, that would be like finding a quarter in the sofa, and throwing a kegger for all your friends to celebrate. Verily, this is perhaps the easiest of Jesus parables to render intelligible to Assumption College spirituality ^

2009-08-07T17:59:00.004-04:00

Foiled again, I said to myself as I read Product of Japan on the back of the box of Pocky I had purchased. Manga, like most books, is generally printed domestically, allowing one to feel good about their buy as they peruse foreign literature. However, after seeing the Rozen Maidens crunch down some Pocky in the eponymous manga, I needed a pack of my own. At the time, though, it never occurred to me that I might needlessly be buying a foreign product when an equivalent American snack would be cheaper. It was, though, delicious, but made me wonder how the Japanese are so healthy. The stuff is sold by the vending machine, and has to be the most unhealthy snack I have ever seen. There are two servings per little box, each under two ounces, and each has about a quarter of the daily value of saturated fat. Ironically, the logo of Glico, the manufacturer, says "A WHOLESOME LIFE IN THE BEST OF TASTE". How innocent; the packaging design looks like something from the 1950s or early 1960s.

After that, I was determined not to bungle the next opportunity at supporting this Nation's pallid manufacturing body. It was a sad parting, but for the first time since elementary school I selected a new pair of shoes that aren't Chuck Taylors. Though Converse All Stars have the classic style I have come to expect from Chinese sweat shops, I opted for a pair of New Balance 993s. Hailing from one of their five New England factories, I decided upon black since it tends to negate their flashiness.

2009-07-29T18:36:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I wonder whether I have ever been a pawn in God's Providence. Certainly, there is little of the mystic in me, other than the sober hobby of walking about under starry skies. However, I am tempted to think God has advanced me a few spaces, so that He might bring out the heavy artillery later. At least that is the plan, if I'm not just imagining it (or He isn't playing a trick on me and a certain someone)!

See, a few nights ago, I had a dream, in which I drew an illustration called "The Tree of Heaven" while I was on the phone with a cute Protestant fundamentalist. She had almost convinced me to spend a semester or two at a college of the same confession in Appalachia (I think it was based off the premise of The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner’s Semester at the Holiest University in America, which I've heard about but haven't read, but from a traditional Catholic perspective). I had an inkling that I should tell her what the drawing looked like (I didn't know why I drew it: I never draw anything; for that matter I don't like speaking on the phone either), but there was too much background noise (part of the roof and exterior wall had collapsed, and there was great commotion), and I could not. Hence, As soon as I woke up, so as not to commit a crime against art, I redrew The Tree of Heaven. Intuition told me I should give the drawing to a fundamentalist hottie since I couldn't describe it in the dream, in the hope that it will prove a physical manifestation of grace, sort of like a holy relic, bringing her closer to Catholic orthodoxy and unity; not knowing any a mainstream Protestant will have to do. If it turns out the image really has no purpose, no harm done. What does it look like? I wrote an explanatory poem:

The Tree of Heaven, for Miss ??? and other young Protestant Women

The Tree of Heaven was a gift to me,
Come on the coattails of a happy dream.
I sketched it with a telephone in hand,
Pinocchio entrapped, appendaged to
A trunk, as just another branching limb,
Felt baseball cap and gloves still dangling.
"The Tree": because, by what he had become,
And by his shape, he represents the "T"
In "Tree". Below, and rather larger, is
The proper "Tree of Heaven", not the "T".
Enmisted by the sparkle of the sun
On fog, and flying fairy lights, the roots
Stretch far, like woven vines upon the earth.
A not-too-massive trunk shoots straight up, like
A nail that's resting on its head. Atop,
The branches reach, and parallel the roots
With horizontal striving into sticks.
I drew it like an "I": but it's an "H"
As well. A row of Red Deliciouses
Around the trunk, beads strung upon its sides,
Become an "H", the confluence of earth
And Heaven in a corporeal form.

I think it's Heaven's graces reaching down,
For in the now-vague dream, I nearly spent
A year or one semester at a school
In Appalachia, fundamentalist
In bent, because a pretty Protestant
Encouraged me to join her there. I drew
The Tree of Heaven, speaking on the phone,
For her, and tried describing it, because
The fruits resembled graces that could change
Her heart, and bring her over to the Faith.
(But there was too much background noise to tell
Her what it looked like; she hung up on me).
Reminding me that ancient Paris gave
A golden apple "for the fairest" (though
There's more of these, and they are red), I thought,
"The Tree of Heaven should be given to
A fundamentalist: that's what I'll do!"
But knowing none, instead I've chosen you.

Chosen who, you ask? Well, even my fellow Assumption greyhounds will have to wait till we return for junior year to figure out who's getting this mediocre drawing and mercenary poem! (Here's the lower part; I wanted you to use your imaginations before showing you this rudimentary-if-faithful sketch. Note the unnatural belt of apples at the center).