A new computer has considerably slowed down my blogging. But it's almost configured. So, soon. A new wine review and some actual Catholic blogging, too.

Winesday returns in the coming week

I haven't posted any wine notes in a while because I went several weeks without attending a tasting of anything new, and hadn't opened any old favorites that I had not yet blogged. Last Saturday I tasted half a dozen wines, and will taste a few more today, so expect new recommendations in the next few days.

Don't know much about the calendar, either

The other day in a comment I mentioned that Saturday was my birthday. Ooops. Sunday is.

Prayer of St. Ignatius

I haven't posted this prayer in quite a while, but it needs posting periodically.

O Lord, teach me to serve you as you deserve,
To give and not to count the cost,
To fight and not to heed the wounds,
To toil and not to seek for rest,
To Labor and not to ask for any reward,
Save knowing that I do your will. Amen.

The more I reflect on my various failures at various times, and the more I study the Catechism's teachings on Sin, Confession, and Repentance, the more I conclude that Ignatius' prayer captures the essence of what we are called to do. The Power and the Glory has always spoken to me because it captures much the same thing: the one thing you must always do is keep going. Don't stop, don't stand still.

The biggest enemy is complacency, and the "not to" phrases above are all about complacency. Counting the cost, heeding the wounds, taking a rest: they all ask the same question. "Haven't I done enough for now, Lord? Don't I deserve a little break here?" Can't I just be pleased with what I have done, instead of considering what I haven't? The whiskey priest in the Power and the Glory is shaken out of his lethargy, his constant striving for a better parish hall or a nicer social stratus with which to dine, and sent out into the countryside, fulfilling a duty of which he knows himself to be completely unworthy.

Well, it may be true, and even obvious to the reader, that the priestwas unworthy, but it is probably less obvious that St. Ignatius was equally so. And by the end of the story, the other thing the two had in common was that willingness to keep fighting in spite of it.

Holiness, then, comes not exactly in what you do, but in a sense that you do.

Don't know much about biology

I have found a new guilty pleasure. One can arouse in all sorts of polite company a horror that a madman, an imbecile, even--horror!--a fanatic, is let loose amongst Respectability, simply by expressing some doubt about some elements of evolutionary theory.

You need not even say, “I don’t believe in evolution,” (and, in fact, I believe some sort of biological evolution to be the most probable explanation for the present state of the world’s ecology). All you need to do is point out that “natural selection” is a euphemism for “I, Charles Darwin, have no idea how it happens, only that evidence strongly suggests that it does.” When one points out flaws in the classic “spotted moth in pre- and post-industrial England” example most of us learned in high school biology (usually after being told about it in the overly loud and slow tones reserved for foreigners and especially simple children), one’s conversation partner usually begins visibly pondering deliberate spilling of a beverage, to create a distraction during which escape may become possible.

I enjoy this sort of thing a lot.

Immigration

Another comment at Disputations that needed posting here.

Boy, this is a seriously messy issue.

1) A person who injures himself in the commission of a crime is not "penalized" by that injury, even to the point of accidental death. If Valijean could only enter into his neighbor's house via the chimney in order to get to the bread, he should have found a better house to burgle, or else figured out a better way in. But it is not fundamentally a "death penalty" imposed by the neighbor on Valijean.

2) The neighbor, nevertheless, ought to take a good hard look at the circumstances that caused Valijean to climb down the chimney and get himself killed, rather than merely suggesting that Valijean got what was coming to him.

3) The US economy exploits illegal immigrants and to some extent depends on that exploitation to keep prices low and standards high. As our economy has moved from an industrial basis to more of a service basis, this problem has only grown worse. The so-called "hospitality" industry is perhaps the worst exploiter, but construction and other semi- or unskilled-labor intensive sectors are also heavily-dependent on such people.

4) The rewards of successful illegal immigration are comparatively high, even for all that. Far better than a system that kills many would-be immigrants would be a system where the benefits are lower even for successful immigration. This means, among other things, a system where the people who want tighter laws don't benefit by the efforts of the people who evade those laws.

5) Immigration laws are certainly not sacrosanct, but I have yet to hear a convincing moral or economic argument for open borders. A law that complies with a basic moral principal (and I consider "countries have a right to control their borders" to be a basic moral principal of interstate relations) has to be proven false.

A Humor break

If you look at the comments under the post about becoming a deacon, you will see that I replied to Tom, and made reference to my hoped-for participation in the Resurrection. One of the things Haloscan does, is allow the blog owner to see all the comments on a single screen. When I looked at it just now, I discovered that my reply to Tom happened to be the number of the Beast, comment #666. Gosh, I hope that turns out to be funny some day.

UPDATE: It's so funny, I deleted the comment, and reposted it, so now it's number 667. I'm not superstitious, of course, but you really can't be too careful with this stuff.

Summer of a sort has finally arrived here in Boston, and I am especially grateful because the summer season marks the return of Farmer's Markets. If you have never visited these wonderful things, you really ought to. The produce is really excellent--especially the tomatoes. A few really big, tasty, meaty tomatoes from a farmer's market will make you swear off those miserable little pebbles they sell at the grocery store all winter long for the rest of your life. The fresh bread, green beans, lettuces, melons, and berries are delightful because for the most part they have been picked that same day and were actually appropriately ripe when picked.

I am no ritual purist when it comes to organic produce. I would rather have something that hasn't had chemicals sprayed all over it, of course, for many reasons. (But for all the "sustainable agriculture" fascists out there, I remind you that it is only in the last couple of years that organic farming has learned to yield quantities and qualities of food that can compete with "conventional" farming. Like many environmental movement issues, organic farming has been something of a luxury of rich nations.) It now usually tastes better, for one thing, and even if conventional farming isn't unhealthy, it would seem logical that minimizing our intake of chemical fertilizers and pesticides is basically a good thing. (On the other hand, I have no idea how "organic" many Farmer's Market farmers are. They could be detonating pesticide clouds over the corn hourly and I'd never know.)

But Farmer's Markets also bring out the anti-capitalist in me. For all my defense of capitalism and free markets (and I truly believe that no other economic system can be made to work in advance of the Rapture), I'm actually fairly suspicious of modern life. Right now, I'm typing on the new keyboard I got for the computer I bought a few weeks ago, but I'm planning in a little while to use them to search the internet for the text to the UNABomber's manifesto. (For a short story I'm working on, about the negative aspects of technology in our lives.) When people start talking about nanotechnology, I start drawing floorplans for a shack in the mountains, and start thinking seriously about renewing my firearms permit.

Small farms are inefficient. In fact, farms in New England are such hardscrabble affairs, with the glacial moraine turning every field into a gravel pit, that a hard core Adam Smith guy could argue that we should pave the whole region, build a lot of condos, and move all the non-farm-staff residents out of the rest of the country, so that the land can be used more efficiently for farming.

But the beauty of capitalism is that sentimental fools like me can use our money to pay a little more for produce that was a bit more hard won from the ground, and keep Archer Daniels Midland at bay just a wee bit longer. Efficiency is nice, but it is hardly everything, after all.

I had a really profound insight last night, as I was going to sleep. If I could only remember what it was, I would share it with you.

I would also like your prayers. I have been contemplating for a couple of years now on the prospect of becoming a Permanent Deacon. The Boston archidiocese starts a new class every even numbered year, and the admissions process begins this fall. When I went to the meeting two years ago (the first year in which I was old enough to apply), they basically told me to get lost (very politely) because I was too young. (As an aside: I have never understood the point of setting admissions requirements and then not following them. If I am too young, then RAISE THE FREAKING AGE REQUIREMENT. Don't waste my time at a meeting and with a lot of earnest advice seeking from friends, only to tell me, "See you in a few years, kid.") As it happens, I am less certain that I will apply in this go-around, with a new baby on the way and our near-term circumstances a bit up in the air, but I am beginning to contemplate on it again. (Tom suggested I may not ever want to be a Deacon. He thinks the pastoral counseling aspect will cause me to commit more than a few mortal sins. He may be right.)

Mrs. Kairos Guy has now been pregnant for about 11 months, excepting only 6 or 7 weeks after the miscarriage, when her body was still shedding the effects of pregnancy after the miscarriage. If you could keep her in your prayers especially over the next few weeks, that would be appreciated. Most women, once they reach 7 or 8 months seem really ready to deliver the baby. Imagine knowing, in your 11th month that you still had two to go.

Tuesday Intentions

For Maj. Chris H, USAF, safely back with his family, and LT (jg) David C, USN, who remains “in the Persian Gulf region.” For all the members of the Armed Forces, and for the people of Iraq. For a true, just and lasting peace there, and across the Middle East. For the people of Afghanistan. For POWs, MIAs and those killed in military conflict, whatever their nationality. For Dylan and for Karen Marie Knapp. For the Kairos Guy family, especially the child due in August. For Reynolds, during a tumultuous time, and for his son. For Victor Lams and his family. For Bishop Richard Lennon. For Roger, Randy, Deb and the ones whose names I did not know. For Katherine G. For Michelle. For me, a sinner. For Monica M. For victims of terrorism in so many places. For Karen and Dale.

There Is a Balm in Gilead

Refrain
There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the sin sick soul.

Some times I feel discouraged,
And think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit
Revives my soul again.

Refrain

If you can’t preach like Peter,
If you can’t pray like Paul,
Just tell the love of Jesus,
And say He died for all.

Refrain