Thanksgiving Prayer
Each day should be Thanksgiving, Lord, but oftentimes we find,
The praise and thanks we owe to you are somehow left behind.
We come to you on bended knees in time of stress or need,
For every want of family or friends, we humbly plead---
And you hear us, Lord! And grant us every good that we desire!
Giving Peace and Understanding even when the answer’s “No.”
So today of all days, Father, let us send our praises higher,
And Thank you for the Graces that you constantly bestow:
Father, thank you for the Soldiers, for the men who stand today,
Prepared to give their lives in lonely outposts far away.
For soldiers’ hearts mysterious who hear the call to arms,
Protect your martial angels, Lord, and keep them all from harm.
And thank you for the Cowboys, keeping faith with freedom, Lord,
Fighting predators and weather for the cattle that they tend.
With the humble creed of Chivalry, according to your Word,
May they see your Glory, Father, in the creatures and the land.
And thank you for the Fathers all, whose shoulders bear the load
Of caring for the daughters and the sons that you’ve bestowed.
Lord, strengthen them as they go out into the dragon’s lair,
Keep their eyes upon the cross and give them comfort, not despair.
For Mothers, then, we give you praise, who serve so faithfully,
Humbly and obscurely, guiding souls toward Your Light.
Whose tears and sacrifices only You will ever see,
Give them Joy and Peace, Dear Jesus—hear their prayers by day and night.
We thank you Lord, for virgin hearts whose prayers fly Heavenward,
And for Priests uncompromising, who recall us to thy Word.
And for children, Lord, for little maids and strong and gallant boys,
Lord make us truly thankful and mindful of these joys.
For Soldier hearts and Cowboy hearts, and for all creatures living,
For undeserved Grace we give You praise on this Thanksgiving!
Be with us in the coming days and help us, Lord, prepare
The manger for your coming and the will to find you there!
Syler Womack 2004
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
My biggest mistakes...
I catch a lot of heat from things that are merely the result of birth-order dynamics. To wit, my youngest is a Youngest: the Baby of a Large, Belligerent Southern Family...
She's remarkably mature in regard to most things, but she loses all credibility when she falls apart at the seams, which usually happens when her sibs are present, and then I get phone calls about how horrible she is---with implications that it's all my fault.
It isn't. Get over it.
She also lost a lot of credibility over her love for, and subsequent grief over, a psychopath. And that WAS my fault. Because I trusted her emotions and judgment more than my own---because I am in awe of the incredible graces owned by devout cradle Catholics...I failed to use my Veto. It is my fault.
But I've been no less guilty with the others---they just don't remember---except for that dear first-born who was, from the beginning, frankly graceless. "...a heart of gold, A lad of life, an imp of fame...and from heart-string I love the lovely bully..."
But all the rest of you---I've had far too much respect for you, and far too little sense of my own awful responsibility. I'm so sorry. It was cowardly and prideful, and if you'd had a better mother, much of your sorrow could have been avoided.
She's remarkably mature in regard to most things, but she loses all credibility when she falls apart at the seams, which usually happens when her sibs are present, and then I get phone calls about how horrible she is---with implications that it's all my fault.
It isn't. Get over it.
She also lost a lot of credibility over her love for, and subsequent grief over, a psychopath. And that WAS my fault. Because I trusted her emotions and judgment more than my own---because I am in awe of the incredible graces owned by devout cradle Catholics...I failed to use my Veto. It is my fault.
But I've been no less guilty with the others---they just don't remember---except for that dear first-born who was, from the beginning, frankly graceless. "...a heart of gold, A lad of life, an imp of fame...and from heart-string I love the lovely bully..."
But all the rest of you---I've had far too much respect for you, and far too little sense of my own awful responsibility. I'm so sorry. It was cowardly and prideful, and if you'd had a better mother, much of your sorrow could have been avoided.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Thanksgiving stuff...
From the book I made for my children:
Regarding Womack Family Thanksgivings---
Kids---this is intended to be a guide, not a mandate. If at any time you wish to vary from it, or even to ditch the whole thing in order to accommodate personal preference or the tastes of your spouses, you should do so with a free and happy heart! Traditions are wonderful and fun, and tie us to our past, but traditions such as holiday feast menus should never become oppressive. You will be no less "Southern" or "Catholic" or "Texan" if you do things differently---and what else matters anyway? I stress this because I was not given these options myself----I had to "rebel". So I am liberating you from the start!
We've always had blueberry muffins for breakfast on Thanksgiving, and I started that tradition---I don't remember when or why. If you like it, keep it up. Homemade muffins are fun, but mixes are fine, and I have often used them when short of time. I don't see any reason in the world why you couldn't just as well purchase the muffins ready-baked and then microwave them for a few seconds. Have fun watching the Macy's Parade!
I put my turkey in the oven the night before, in my big covered roaster, and let it slowly cook all night. I start it off at 400 degrees for about a half hour, then turn it down to 200 for the rest of the night. I usually put it in about 10 p.m., then turn it off about 5 am. The result is NOT a pretty turkey, but a tender and delicious one never the less. If you want it picture-perfect, you must sacrifice some of the tenderness and follow Martha Stewart's instructions. Never salt your turkey before cooking---although my grandmother did---for it dries it out. You may put salt inside it, however. Remember---I've always done a huge turkey, about 22 pounds---so if you do a smaller one, adjust cooking time accordingly. For a 10 pound turkey, start it off at about 10 pm on 350 for about an hour, then turn down the oven to 200 and set your alarm for 4 oclock and get up and turn it off! Go back to bed and get up again when you're ready to eat muffins and watch the parade.
As you are getting your turkey ready for the oven, you will, of course, wash out the cavities. Inside the larger cavity, you'll find the neck. Put that in a medium sized saucepan. Inside the smaller cavity, you'll find a packet containing the liver and gizzard. Add those to the neck, cover with plenty of water, and simmer gently for an hour before you turn down the turkey. Go about your business and just keep an eye on it. At the end of the hour, put a lid on the pan and push it to the back of the stove. You will use the broth for gravy in the morning. The gravy is about the last thing you'll do, but I'll tell you about it now. Simply remove the "innards" from the broth. Give the neck to someone to eat. It needs salt, but it's really good. IF YOU LIKE bits and pieces in your gravy, chop up the gizzard and add it back to the broth. Heat to simmering again. Put about 3 tablespoons cornstarch in a fruit jar, add about a cup of water or some chicken broth, and shake. Pour the dissolved cornstarch into the simmering stock and there it is: gravy. Salt and pepper to taste.
Nanaw (remember Nanaw? Jeb and Bentley's maternal grandmother?) used to forget to take the packet of giblets out of the turkey. It never failed, and retrieving the horrid looking glob at the table used to be a yearly tradition. I do not recommend it. She also put orange juice and marshmallows and cinnamon in her sweet potatoes. I don't recommend that either, being a sweet potato purist.
Since you are cooking the turkey all night, you cannot "stuff" it with dressing---the stuff would go bad and give you food poisoning. You may, however, mix your dressing the night before and let it sit in the refrigerator all night, as we've always done. Basically, here's the dressing recipe:
Dressing
---you know how carefully I measure things :
three pans cornbread
1 loaf white bread
2 cups onion, chopped---no, you cannot leave out the onion and expect it to taste like dressing
1 to 1 ½ cups celery, chopped, MOSTLY LEAVES
2 eggs
2 Tablespoons salt
a teaspoon pepper
about 3 or four tablespoons sage or poultry seasoning or a combination of both----you have to taste for correctness
melted butter
Let everybody help taste, because it's more fun that way. Grandpeggy always used milk in her dressing, and 2 sticks butter. (I kind of like broth instead of milk—especially for the Christmas dressing). Just keep adding the milk until dressing is the right consistency---sort of like thick cooked oatmeal. I sometimes use a combination of milk and chicken broth, but you can do whatever you like. When you are ready, put the dressing in a big pan and pour lots of the juice/grease that has cooked out of the turkey over it. Bake it for an hour or so at 350---that should be long enough if you use a big flat pan like a pyrex. You may want to add more Turkey juice as it bakes, for you don't want it to be dry.
Candied sweet potatoes can be done the day before thanksgiving and reheated. This frees up your oven, and I think it's the best way because you don't want to rush candied sweet potatoes. Open several cans of sweet potatoes. You'll probably want lots. Drain them, and fish them out one by one, slicing them very thin into a heavily buttered big pyrex dish. After you have a layer of sweet potatoes, throw in several large chunks of butter and about a half cup to a cup of sugar. Continue layering thus until the pan is full. Pour in water up to the top of the sweet potatoes and bake in the oven at 350 up to all day until the potatoes are candied. The longer the better, but you want them sort of syrup, not completely dried out. The potatoes themselves should acquire a sort of transparency. If you have any questions, ask Stuart, as she does it best.
Cranberries---I think those canned ones are NASTY. Buy a package of fresh ones and follow the directions. You can do this several days ahead and refrigerate. Your Grandaddy Blake would only eat Cranberry JELLY, right out of the can, in a can-shaped blob, which he would slice in little round slices. Not my favorite way, but you might like it.
Stuffed celery: Wash celery and cut into three-inch chunks. Mash cream cheese and add enough miracle whip to make it malleable. Add a couple of tablespoons of finely chopped pecans. Dry the celery and stuff. Best done thanksgiving morning. Good job for novice helpers.
Don't forget the olives!
Choose a green vegetable that you can live with and add delicious ingredients sufficient to offset any healthy side effects. Sometimes we do broccoli wth cheese sauce, sometimes that green bean casserole with the French's onion thingies on top. Just whatever you like is fine! But I know Chisum and I wouldn't really be satisfied without
Martha's Squawk Casserole
I don't know why we call it that, but I'm not going to change now.
4 medium yellow squash, cut in large chunks
3 medium zuchinni, cut in large chunks
2 large carrots, grated
1 large onion, chopped
1 large jar chopped pimiento
8 oz. processed cheese spread, melted
2 tablespoons canned jalepenos, chopped
8 oz. sour cream
1 can cream of chicken soup
6 chicken boullion cubes, disolved in 1/4 cup boiling water
1 pan cornbread (Mix or home recipe)
Arrange squash in greased 4-quart pan, sprinkle carrots and onion over squash. Mix pimiento, chees, jalepenos, sour cream, soup, and dissolved boullion cubes in large bowl and pour over vegetables. Crumble cornbread over top of casserole and press down gently. Bake at 350 for about 1 hour .
Use the same criteria for the Jello salad. We've always used the Blueberry jello salad with the cream cheese and pecans, but there are plenty to choose from.
Blueberry Jello
2 small pkg. Grape jello
1 ¼ cup boiling water
1 small can crushed pineapple with juice
1 can blueberry pie filling
dissolve jello in water, add next two ingredients and chill
topping:
8 oz sour cream
¼ cup sugar
8 oz softened cream cheese
beat together until creamy and smooth. Spread over set jello. Sprinkle with chopped pecans.
Don't forget the pies---
Pie Crust
2 scant cups flour
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup oil
1/4 cup milk
Mix flour and salt with fork. Into a pyrex measuring cup, measure the oil, then the milk on top of it. Don't mix them up! Dump oil and milk into the flour at the same time and lightly mix together with a fork—just until it holds together. Roll out between wax paper.
Sweet Potato Pie Thanksgiving 2001
Unbaked pie crust
3 cups baked mashed up baked sweet potato. NOT CANNED
2 eggs
3/4 cup light brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger
1 stick butter, melted
1/2 cup canned evaporated milk—straight—don't add water.
Puree in food processor until smooth.
Bake in 9" pie shell at 400 til done—about 45 minutes.
Kentucky Derby Pie
Crust: 2 scant cups flour
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup oil
1/4 cup milk
Mix flour and salt with fork. Dump oil and milk into the flour at the same time and lightly mix together with a fork. Roll out between wax paper.
Filling:
2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup flour
1 stick melted butter
6 or 12 ounces chocolate chips (semisweet)
1 cup broken pecans
1 tsp vanilla
Beat eggs, sugar, flour and vanilla together---add butter. Mix in remaining ingredients. Pour into pie shell and bake in 325 oven for about an hour.
Pecan Pie
3 eggs
2/3 cup sugar
1 cup Karo, light or dark
1 cup pecans
Mix together and pour into unbaked pie shell. Bake at 425 degrees for 10 minutes. reduce to 350 and bake about 25 minutes longer or until knife inserted in center comes out clean. (always takes me longer than ten minutes).
Food may be consumed before, during and after The Game. Gig'em.***
Regarding Womack Family Thanksgivings---
Kids---this is intended to be a guide, not a mandate. If at any time you wish to vary from it, or even to ditch the whole thing in order to accommodate personal preference or the tastes of your spouses, you should do so with a free and happy heart! Traditions are wonderful and fun, and tie us to our past, but traditions such as holiday feast menus should never become oppressive. You will be no less "Southern" or "Catholic" or "Texan" if you do things differently---and what else matters anyway? I stress this because I was not given these options myself----I had to "rebel". So I am liberating you from the start!
We've always had blueberry muffins for breakfast on Thanksgiving, and I started that tradition---I don't remember when or why. If you like it, keep it up. Homemade muffins are fun, but mixes are fine, and I have often used them when short of time. I don't see any reason in the world why you couldn't just as well purchase the muffins ready-baked and then microwave them for a few seconds. Have fun watching the Macy's Parade!
I put my turkey in the oven the night before, in my big covered roaster, and let it slowly cook all night. I start it off at 400 degrees for about a half hour, then turn it down to 200 for the rest of the night. I usually put it in about 10 p.m., then turn it off about 5 am. The result is NOT a pretty turkey, but a tender and delicious one never the less. If you want it picture-perfect, you must sacrifice some of the tenderness and follow Martha Stewart's instructions. Never salt your turkey before cooking---although my grandmother did---for it dries it out. You may put salt inside it, however. Remember---I've always done a huge turkey, about 22 pounds---so if you do a smaller one, adjust cooking time accordingly. For a 10 pound turkey, start it off at about 10 pm on 350 for about an hour, then turn down the oven to 200 and set your alarm for 4 oclock and get up and turn it off! Go back to bed and get up again when you're ready to eat muffins and watch the parade.
As you are getting your turkey ready for the oven, you will, of course, wash out the cavities. Inside the larger cavity, you'll find the neck. Put that in a medium sized saucepan. Inside the smaller cavity, you'll find a packet containing the liver and gizzard. Add those to the neck, cover with plenty of water, and simmer gently for an hour before you turn down the turkey. Go about your business and just keep an eye on it. At the end of the hour, put a lid on the pan and push it to the back of the stove. You will use the broth for gravy in the morning. The gravy is about the last thing you'll do, but I'll tell you about it now. Simply remove the "innards" from the broth. Give the neck to someone to eat. It needs salt, but it's really good. IF YOU LIKE bits and pieces in your gravy, chop up the gizzard and add it back to the broth. Heat to simmering again. Put about 3 tablespoons cornstarch in a fruit jar, add about a cup of water or some chicken broth, and shake. Pour the dissolved cornstarch into the simmering stock and there it is: gravy. Salt and pepper to taste.
Nanaw (remember Nanaw? Jeb and Bentley's maternal grandmother?) used to forget to take the packet of giblets out of the turkey. It never failed, and retrieving the horrid looking glob at the table used to be a yearly tradition. I do not recommend it. She also put orange juice and marshmallows and cinnamon in her sweet potatoes. I don't recommend that either, being a sweet potato purist.
Since you are cooking the turkey all night, you cannot "stuff" it with dressing---the stuff would go bad and give you food poisoning. You may, however, mix your dressing the night before and let it sit in the refrigerator all night, as we've always done. Basically, here's the dressing recipe:
Dressing
---you know how carefully I measure things :
three pans cornbread
1 loaf white bread
2 cups onion, chopped---no, you cannot leave out the onion and expect it to taste like dressing
1 to 1 ½ cups celery, chopped, MOSTLY LEAVES
2 eggs
2 Tablespoons salt
a teaspoon pepper
about 3 or four tablespoons sage or poultry seasoning or a combination of both----you have to taste for correctness
melted butter
Let everybody help taste, because it's more fun that way. Grandpeggy always used milk in her dressing, and 2 sticks butter. (I kind of like broth instead of milk—especially for the Christmas dressing). Just keep adding the milk until dressing is the right consistency---sort of like thick cooked oatmeal. I sometimes use a combination of milk and chicken broth, but you can do whatever you like. When you are ready, put the dressing in a big pan and pour lots of the juice/grease that has cooked out of the turkey over it. Bake it for an hour or so at 350---that should be long enough if you use a big flat pan like a pyrex. You may want to add more Turkey juice as it bakes, for you don't want it to be dry.
Candied sweet potatoes can be done the day before thanksgiving and reheated. This frees up your oven, and I think it's the best way because you don't want to rush candied sweet potatoes. Open several cans of sweet potatoes. You'll probably want lots. Drain them, and fish them out one by one, slicing them very thin into a heavily buttered big pyrex dish. After you have a layer of sweet potatoes, throw in several large chunks of butter and about a half cup to a cup of sugar. Continue layering thus until the pan is full. Pour in water up to the top of the sweet potatoes and bake in the oven at 350 up to all day until the potatoes are candied. The longer the better, but you want them sort of syrup, not completely dried out. The potatoes themselves should acquire a sort of transparency. If you have any questions, ask Stuart, as she does it best.
Cranberries---I think those canned ones are NASTY. Buy a package of fresh ones and follow the directions. You can do this several days ahead and refrigerate. Your Grandaddy Blake would only eat Cranberry JELLY, right out of the can, in a can-shaped blob, which he would slice in little round slices. Not my favorite way, but you might like it.
Stuffed celery: Wash celery and cut into three-inch chunks. Mash cream cheese and add enough miracle whip to make it malleable. Add a couple of tablespoons of finely chopped pecans. Dry the celery and stuff. Best done thanksgiving morning. Good job for novice helpers.
Don't forget the olives!
Choose a green vegetable that you can live with and add delicious ingredients sufficient to offset any healthy side effects. Sometimes we do broccoli wth cheese sauce, sometimes that green bean casserole with the French's onion thingies on top. Just whatever you like is fine! But I know Chisum and I wouldn't really be satisfied without
Martha's Squawk Casserole
I don't know why we call it that, but I'm not going to change now.
4 medium yellow squash, cut in large chunks
3 medium zuchinni, cut in large chunks
2 large carrots, grated
1 large onion, chopped
1 large jar chopped pimiento
8 oz. processed cheese spread, melted
2 tablespoons canned jalepenos, chopped
8 oz. sour cream
1 can cream of chicken soup
6 chicken boullion cubes, disolved in 1/4 cup boiling water
1 pan cornbread (Mix or home recipe)
Arrange squash in greased 4-quart pan, sprinkle carrots and onion over squash. Mix pimiento, chees, jalepenos, sour cream, soup, and dissolved boullion cubes in large bowl and pour over vegetables. Crumble cornbread over top of casserole and press down gently. Bake at 350 for about 1 hour .
Use the same criteria for the Jello salad. We've always used the Blueberry jello salad with the cream cheese and pecans, but there are plenty to choose from.
Blueberry Jello
2 small pkg. Grape jello
1 ¼ cup boiling water
1 small can crushed pineapple with juice
1 can blueberry pie filling
dissolve jello in water, add next two ingredients and chill
topping:
8 oz sour cream
¼ cup sugar
8 oz softened cream cheese
beat together until creamy and smooth. Spread over set jello. Sprinkle with chopped pecans.
Don't forget the pies---
Pie Crust
2 scant cups flour
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup oil
1/4 cup milk
Mix flour and salt with fork. Into a pyrex measuring cup, measure the oil, then the milk on top of it. Don't mix them up! Dump oil and milk into the flour at the same time and lightly mix together with a fork—just until it holds together. Roll out between wax paper.
Sweet Potato Pie Thanksgiving 2001
Unbaked pie crust
3 cups baked mashed up baked sweet potato. NOT CANNED
2 eggs
3/4 cup light brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger
1 stick butter, melted
1/2 cup canned evaporated milk—straight—don't add water.
Puree in food processor until smooth.
Bake in 9" pie shell at 400 til done—about 45 minutes.
Kentucky Derby Pie
Crust: 2 scant cups flour
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup oil
1/4 cup milk
Mix flour and salt with fork. Dump oil and milk into the flour at the same time and lightly mix together with a fork. Roll out between wax paper.
Filling:
2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup flour
1 stick melted butter
6 or 12 ounces chocolate chips (semisweet)
1 cup broken pecans
1 tsp vanilla
Beat eggs, sugar, flour and vanilla together---add butter. Mix in remaining ingredients. Pour into pie shell and bake in 325 oven for about an hour.
Pecan Pie
3 eggs
2/3 cup sugar
1 cup Karo, light or dark
1 cup pecans
Mix together and pour into unbaked pie shell. Bake at 425 degrees for 10 minutes. reduce to 350 and bake about 25 minutes longer or until knife inserted in center comes out clean. (always takes me longer than ten minutes).
Food may be consumed before, during and after The Game. Gig'em.***
Saturday, November 1, 2008
liberal "tolerance"
"Tolerance is the virtue of the man without convictions."
Thus spake that early twentieth genius, GK Chesterton, and never has it been more true or more relevant than today.
A man of conviction will not tolerate certain acts, words and even expressed thoughts. That is, he will not sit idly by and say nothing. He may refrain from arbitrarily challenging every wicked thing he encounters, but don't ask him how he feels about something if you don't want to hear it stated plainly. And if you are possessed of the popular insanity which dictates that any disagreement with your whim is a personal attack, then prepare yourself to lose your feel good.
A man of conviction will NOT, however, discard friends, family, or even acquaintances simply because he disagrees with them, no matter how vehemently. The man of conviction will instinctively love the sinner even as he hates the sin. He will realize that his acquaintance or friend is a unique person regardless of his misinformation and will be the same person when and if he corrects his metaphysic, only better, and ultimately happier. The man of conviction would no more reassure a friend re his wrong theology than he would urge him to ignore a cancerous tumour simply because his friend feared surgery.
This is in STARK CONTRAST to the modern liberal to whom "tolerance" is a shallow mantra! My family has recently experienced the hateful wrath of two such "tolerant" erstwhile friends. Their practice of tolerance runs thus: Declare that you hate "racists", conservatives and true Christians (nominal Christianity is okay). Declare that it is wrong to discriminate against anyone based on color or creed or behavior---and discrimination means whatever *I* say it means. Declare that no one has the right to disagree with you and that, if they do, they are intolerant and must be cut off.
These people are quite capable of ending long friendships based on a word. They are vicious, self-centered and their reason for hating people with convictions is that convictions make them uncomfortable. Professing convictions will make you their hero, but actually carry through with your convictions and they will turn and rend you. Eschew them. Regardless of how close you think you are to them, they will cut you off in a heartbeat and with total dispassion if you dare to gainsay them or if you become in any way inconvenient. Find yourself a good, passionately right or wrong friend who will stick by you no matter what.
Thus spake that early twentieth genius, GK Chesterton, and never has it been more true or more relevant than today.
A man of conviction will not tolerate certain acts, words and even expressed thoughts. That is, he will not sit idly by and say nothing. He may refrain from arbitrarily challenging every wicked thing he encounters, but don't ask him how he feels about something if you don't want to hear it stated plainly. And if you are possessed of the popular insanity which dictates that any disagreement with your whim is a personal attack, then prepare yourself to lose your feel good.
A man of conviction will NOT, however, discard friends, family, or even acquaintances simply because he disagrees with them, no matter how vehemently. The man of conviction will instinctively love the sinner even as he hates the sin. He will realize that his acquaintance or friend is a unique person regardless of his misinformation and will be the same person when and if he corrects his metaphysic, only better, and ultimately happier. The man of conviction would no more reassure a friend re his wrong theology than he would urge him to ignore a cancerous tumour simply because his friend feared surgery.
This is in STARK CONTRAST to the modern liberal to whom "tolerance" is a shallow mantra! My family has recently experienced the hateful wrath of two such "tolerant" erstwhile friends. Their practice of tolerance runs thus: Declare that you hate "racists", conservatives and true Christians (nominal Christianity is okay). Declare that it is wrong to discriminate against anyone based on color or creed or behavior---and discrimination means whatever *I* say it means. Declare that no one has the right to disagree with you and that, if they do, they are intolerant and must be cut off.
These people are quite capable of ending long friendships based on a word. They are vicious, self-centered and their reason for hating people with convictions is that convictions make them uncomfortable. Professing convictions will make you their hero, but actually carry through with your convictions and they will turn and rend you. Eschew them. Regardless of how close you think you are to them, they will cut you off in a heartbeat and with total dispassion if you dare to gainsay them or if you become in any way inconvenient. Find yourself a good, passionately right or wrong friend who will stick by you no matter what.
Friday, October 31, 2008
More Feasts...
These next three are from by The Feast Day Cookbook by KATHERINE BURTON & HELMUT RIPPERGER. I think I accessed this at the EWTN site, but it was years ago...
November 1: All Saints' Day
THIS DAY, formerly known in England as All Hallows and in France called "Toussaint," honors, as its name implies, all the saints canonized and uncanonized, known and unknown. Long ago the church bells rang for most of the night before All Saints' Day to praise the saints "risen in their glory." Everywhere patronal and family saints are especially remembered. It is a feast to give them praise rather than to ask favors of them, a day for praising them to God rather than asking them to remember the living to Him. The observance of this feast merges into the next, which is All Souls' Day, so that by evening it has become the eve of the day of the dead. On All Souls' Eve the graves in Hungary are lighted with candles and decorated with flowers. Indeed, the custom of visiting the cemeteries and adorning the graves of relatives and friends with wreaths and bouquets prevails in most Latin and Central European countries. In Czechoslovakia, and in Belgium, there is an old tradition of eating special cakes on All Souls' Eve. In many old English towns, maids still go "souling" on All Souls' Eve, that is, singing for cakes, and one hears such ancient ballads as: Soul! soul! for a soul-cake! I pray, good misses a soul-cake-- An apple or pear, a plum or a cherry, Any good thing to make us merry, One for Peter, two for Paul, Three for Him who made us all.
Soul Cakes
1 yeast cake
2 cups milk
1/2 cup sugar
6 cups flour
1/4 cup lukewarm water
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 lb. Butter
3 teaspoons cinnamon
Dissolve the yeast cake with 1 teaspoon of sugar in the lukewarm water and let it stand in a warm place. Cream the butter with the sugar. Add the milk which has been scalded and slightly cooled and then add the yeast. Sift the flour with the salt and cinnamon and add to the mixture, kneading for a few minutes. Place in a bowl and allow it to rise in a warm place to double its bulk. Shape the dough into round buns and bake at 375 degrees F. for about thirty minutes or until lightly browned. Originally, these cakes were shaped like men and women and were given raisins or currants for eyes.
November 2: All Souls' Day
After the feast in honor of the saints in heaven, comes the day of praying for the dead, particularly for members of the family, so "that they may quickly attain to the fellowship of the heavenly citizens." As we have said, many of the observances of this day take place on the eve. In the Old World, superstition was more observed than doctrine and lights were set in windows to guide the departed back to their homes, and food was placed beside a candle or lighted lamp on the table to await them. In Brittany, where belief in the supernatural is intensified on this night, the people, dressed appropriately in black, hurry home after vespers to talk together about the departed, speaking of them in low tones as if at a funeral. On the table with the best cloth are placed plates of bread and cheese and mugs of cider for the refreshment of the departed ones. As the living sit whispering together, they hear, or think they hear, in creaking floorboard and empty benches about the table the movements of the ghosts who have come to rest that night in their former home. And knowing that the saddest of all are the homeless dead who roam about the countryside on this one night of the year permitted them on earth, it is a custom of Celtic people to set food and drink on doorstep and window sill, so that homeless spirits too may have a share. In Italy, and especially in Sicily, good children who have prayed for the dead through the year are rewarded by having the "morti" leave gifts, sometimes cakes, none the less welcome because they have been made by the hands of mundane bakers. Especially good are these "Fave dei Morti," and as fine a reward for a pious child as was the "Pretiolium" or pretzel of the Middle Ages.
Fave dei Morti (Beans of the Dead)
1/4 lb. Almonds
butter, size of a walnut
1/4 lb. sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons flour
1 egg
1/2 lemon peel, grated
Pound some of the almonds (unblanched) with some of the sugar in a mortar, and then rub through a sieve. Continue this process until all of the almonds and sugar have been used. Any of the mixture remaining in the sieve should be pounded again until it is fine enough to pass through the sieve. Work this paste with the flour, butter, cinnamon, egg, and lemon peel until the whole is quite smooth. When done, roll into long thin rolls; divide into small pieces and shape them to resemble a broad bean. Bake on a greased tin at 350 degrees F. for about twenty minutes or until light brown. Though soft at first they will harden when cold.
In Poland on All Souls' Day vespers are sometimes sung in the churchyards, and alms are given to the poor who in return are expected to offer prayers and petitions for the dead of the donor's family. Lighted candles are placed on the graves. In Spain every theater gives a performance of the famous play "Don Juan Tenorio" and thrills anew to the drama of the wicked lover who is dragged to hell by the ghost of the fair damsel to whom Don Juan proved unfaithful. The "Dia de Muertos" is an occasion so important in Mexico that its observance lasts for several days. Several days before, on October 30th, the souls of dead children are said to revisit their homes and spend the night. They are welcomed with flowers and food in gourds, as many gourds as there are "angelitos"--souls of dead children expected. And in the doorway of homes are placed chocolates and cakes and a lighted candle for those children who have no one to remember them. On the Day of the Dead, Mexican crowds stream into the cemeteries long before daybreak, bearing flowers, candles, and food. Breads, candies, and cakes have been made in the form of grinning skulls with eyes of shining purple paper, of little chocolate hearses [emphasis mine] and coffins and funeral wreaths. With picnic gaiety the families group about the graves in the cemeteries, everyone laughing and enjoying the fine fiesta and sharing the food they have brought. And as in Spain, in the evening the whole village repairs to see the perennial drama of the faithless Don Juan and his luckless lady.
Pan de Muertos (Bread of the Dead)
1 yeast cake
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup lukewarm water
6 eggs
5 cups flour
1/3 cup orange blossom
1 teaspoon salt water
1 cup butter
1/3 cup milk
1/4 cup anisette
Dissolve the yeast in the lukewarm water and let it stand in a warm place. Sift the flour with the salt. Taking about half the flour, add the yeast, mix well, and allow to rise in a greased bowl in a warm place until double in bulk. Cream the butter with the sugar; add the egg yolks and the orange blossom water. Then add the remaining flour, the milk and anisette. Mix well and knead for a few minutes. Then add the egg whites, one at a time, kneading after each addition. Finally add the fermented dough and beat and knead until thoroughly mixed. Allow it to rise in a greased bowl in a warm place until double in bulk. Knead once more and divide into two portions. Remove a bit of the dough from each portion, enough to form two "bones." Shape the dough into round loaves and moisten the tops with water. Place the "bones" in the shape of a cross on each loaf and bake at 375 degrees F. for about fifty minutes or until done. The loaves are usually covered with a light sugar glaze when baked.
November 3: Feast of Saint Hubert
Born in the 8th Century, St. Hubert is the patron of hunters, and is a saint greatly honored in France and Belgium. Saint Hubert lived a full life. He became bishop of Tongres and traveled through his huge diocese on horseback and by boat, preaching and building churches to the glory of God. He was the friend of the great of his day--Pepin of Heristal and Charles Martel among them--and also of the poor. In particular his heart went out to prisoners, and he would secretly place food for them before their dungeon windows. As he died he said to those about him, "Stretch the pallium over my mouth for I am now going to give back to God the soul I received from Him." In parts of France and Belgium there has long been a custom of holding stag hunts on Saint Hubert's Day, and the hunters gather before the chase for Mass and the blessing of men and horses and dogs. After the hunt is over, those taking part gather for a bountiful breakfast consisting of fish, meat, salad, cheese, and dessert. Naturally the meat is venison of some sort, and the salad may well be one of dandelion greens.
Venaison Roti (Roast Venison)
If the venison is young, it does not need marinating; otherwise marinate several hours or even overnight. For the marinade use
1 pint of vinegar,
1 pint of red wine,
several bay leaves,
4 shallots,
2 sliced carrots,
1 lemon cut into thin slices,
some freshly ground pepper,
and a handful of juniper berries.
Carefully remove the skin from a loin of venison without tearing the meat and wipe it with a damp cloth. Lard the loin symmetrically with bacon (not larding pork). Dust with salt and pepper, cover liberally with butter, and roast in a hot oven for one hour, basting almost continuously with the butter in the pan and 2 cups of sour cream. Remove the meat to a hot platter; carefully stir 1 tablespoon of flour into the pan, then add a cup of hot stock, cook for several minutes, and strain through a fine sieve. (Though not orthodox, a leg of lamb may be substituted but in that case marinate for several days.)
Pissenlit au Lard (Dandelion Greens with Bacon)
Wash the dandelion greens carefully to remove all grit and dry thoroughly in a salad basket. Cut up 1/4 pound of lean bacon into dice and fry over a slow fire until very crisp. Add 3 tablespoons of tarragon vinegar to the bacon grease and season lightly with salt and freshly ground pepper. Pour, while hot, over the greens, mix well, and serve at once. I’m actually not sure one can find dandelion leaves in November…
November 1: All Saints' Day
THIS DAY, formerly known in England as All Hallows and in France called "Toussaint," honors, as its name implies, all the saints canonized and uncanonized, known and unknown. Long ago the church bells rang for most of the night before All Saints' Day to praise the saints "risen in their glory." Everywhere patronal and family saints are especially remembered. It is a feast to give them praise rather than to ask favors of them, a day for praising them to God rather than asking them to remember the living to Him. The observance of this feast merges into the next, which is All Souls' Day, so that by evening it has become the eve of the day of the dead. On All Souls' Eve the graves in Hungary are lighted with candles and decorated with flowers. Indeed, the custom of visiting the cemeteries and adorning the graves of relatives and friends with wreaths and bouquets prevails in most Latin and Central European countries. In Czechoslovakia, and in Belgium, there is an old tradition of eating special cakes on All Souls' Eve. In many old English towns, maids still go "souling" on All Souls' Eve, that is, singing for cakes, and one hears such ancient ballads as: Soul! soul! for a soul-cake! I pray, good misses a soul-cake-- An apple or pear, a plum or a cherry, Any good thing to make us merry, One for Peter, two for Paul, Three for Him who made us all.
Soul Cakes
1 yeast cake
2 cups milk
1/2 cup sugar
6 cups flour
1/4 cup lukewarm water
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 lb. Butter
3 teaspoons cinnamon
Dissolve the yeast cake with 1 teaspoon of sugar in the lukewarm water and let it stand in a warm place. Cream the butter with the sugar. Add the milk which has been scalded and slightly cooled and then add the yeast. Sift the flour with the salt and cinnamon and add to the mixture, kneading for a few minutes. Place in a bowl and allow it to rise in a warm place to double its bulk. Shape the dough into round buns and bake at 375 degrees F. for about thirty minutes or until lightly browned. Originally, these cakes were shaped like men and women and were given raisins or currants for eyes.
November 2: All Souls' Day
After the feast in honor of the saints in heaven, comes the day of praying for the dead, particularly for members of the family, so "that they may quickly attain to the fellowship of the heavenly citizens." As we have said, many of the observances of this day take place on the eve. In the Old World, superstition was more observed than doctrine and lights were set in windows to guide the departed back to their homes, and food was placed beside a candle or lighted lamp on the table to await them. In Brittany, where belief in the supernatural is intensified on this night, the people, dressed appropriately in black, hurry home after vespers to talk together about the departed, speaking of them in low tones as if at a funeral. On the table with the best cloth are placed plates of bread and cheese and mugs of cider for the refreshment of the departed ones. As the living sit whispering together, they hear, or think they hear, in creaking floorboard and empty benches about the table the movements of the ghosts who have come to rest that night in their former home. And knowing that the saddest of all are the homeless dead who roam about the countryside on this one night of the year permitted them on earth, it is a custom of Celtic people to set food and drink on doorstep and window sill, so that homeless spirits too may have a share. In Italy, and especially in Sicily, good children who have prayed for the dead through the year are rewarded by having the "morti" leave gifts, sometimes cakes, none the less welcome because they have been made by the hands of mundane bakers. Especially good are these "Fave dei Morti," and as fine a reward for a pious child as was the "Pretiolium" or pretzel of the Middle Ages.
Fave dei Morti (Beans of the Dead)
1/4 lb. Almonds
butter, size of a walnut
1/4 lb. sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons flour
1 egg
1/2 lemon peel, grated
Pound some of the almonds (unblanched) with some of the sugar in a mortar, and then rub through a sieve. Continue this process until all of the almonds and sugar have been used. Any of the mixture remaining in the sieve should be pounded again until it is fine enough to pass through the sieve. Work this paste with the flour, butter, cinnamon, egg, and lemon peel until the whole is quite smooth. When done, roll into long thin rolls; divide into small pieces and shape them to resemble a broad bean. Bake on a greased tin at 350 degrees F. for about twenty minutes or until light brown. Though soft at first they will harden when cold.
In Poland on All Souls' Day vespers are sometimes sung in the churchyards, and alms are given to the poor who in return are expected to offer prayers and petitions for the dead of the donor's family. Lighted candles are placed on the graves. In Spain every theater gives a performance of the famous play "Don Juan Tenorio" and thrills anew to the drama of the wicked lover who is dragged to hell by the ghost of the fair damsel to whom Don Juan proved unfaithful. The "Dia de Muertos" is an occasion so important in Mexico that its observance lasts for several days. Several days before, on October 30th, the souls of dead children are said to revisit their homes and spend the night. They are welcomed with flowers and food in gourds, as many gourds as there are "angelitos"--souls of dead children expected. And in the doorway of homes are placed chocolates and cakes and a lighted candle for those children who have no one to remember them. On the Day of the Dead, Mexican crowds stream into the cemeteries long before daybreak, bearing flowers, candles, and food. Breads, candies, and cakes have been made in the form of grinning skulls with eyes of shining purple paper, of little chocolate hearses [emphasis mine] and coffins and funeral wreaths. With picnic gaiety the families group about the graves in the cemeteries, everyone laughing and enjoying the fine fiesta and sharing the food they have brought. And as in Spain, in the evening the whole village repairs to see the perennial drama of the faithless Don Juan and his luckless lady.
Pan de Muertos (Bread of the Dead)
1 yeast cake
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup lukewarm water
6 eggs
5 cups flour
1/3 cup orange blossom
1 teaspoon salt water
1 cup butter
1/3 cup milk
1/4 cup anisette
Dissolve the yeast in the lukewarm water and let it stand in a warm place. Sift the flour with the salt. Taking about half the flour, add the yeast, mix well, and allow to rise in a greased bowl in a warm place until double in bulk. Cream the butter with the sugar; add the egg yolks and the orange blossom water. Then add the remaining flour, the milk and anisette. Mix well and knead for a few minutes. Then add the egg whites, one at a time, kneading after each addition. Finally add the fermented dough and beat and knead until thoroughly mixed. Allow it to rise in a greased bowl in a warm place until double in bulk. Knead once more and divide into two portions. Remove a bit of the dough from each portion, enough to form two "bones." Shape the dough into round loaves and moisten the tops with water. Place the "bones" in the shape of a cross on each loaf and bake at 375 degrees F. for about fifty minutes or until done. The loaves are usually covered with a light sugar glaze when baked.
November 3: Feast of Saint Hubert
Born in the 8th Century, St. Hubert is the patron of hunters, and is a saint greatly honored in France and Belgium. Saint Hubert lived a full life. He became bishop of Tongres and traveled through his huge diocese on horseback and by boat, preaching and building churches to the glory of God. He was the friend of the great of his day--Pepin of Heristal and Charles Martel among them--and also of the poor. In particular his heart went out to prisoners, and he would secretly place food for them before their dungeon windows. As he died he said to those about him, "Stretch the pallium over my mouth for I am now going to give back to God the soul I received from Him." In parts of France and Belgium there has long been a custom of holding stag hunts on Saint Hubert's Day, and the hunters gather before the chase for Mass and the blessing of men and horses and dogs. After the hunt is over, those taking part gather for a bountiful breakfast consisting of fish, meat, salad, cheese, and dessert. Naturally the meat is venison of some sort, and the salad may well be one of dandelion greens.
Venaison Roti (Roast Venison)
If the venison is young, it does not need marinating; otherwise marinate several hours or even overnight. For the marinade use
1 pint of vinegar,
1 pint of red wine,
several bay leaves,
4 shallots,
2 sliced carrots,
1 lemon cut into thin slices,
some freshly ground pepper,
and a handful of juniper berries.
Carefully remove the skin from a loin of venison without tearing the meat and wipe it with a damp cloth. Lard the loin symmetrically with bacon (not larding pork). Dust with salt and pepper, cover liberally with butter, and roast in a hot oven for one hour, basting almost continuously with the butter in the pan and 2 cups of sour cream. Remove the meat to a hot platter; carefully stir 1 tablespoon of flour into the pan, then add a cup of hot stock, cook for several minutes, and strain through a fine sieve. (Though not orthodox, a leg of lamb may be substituted but in that case marinate for several days.)
Pissenlit au Lard (Dandelion Greens with Bacon)
Wash the dandelion greens carefully to remove all grit and dry thoroughly in a salad basket. Cut up 1/4 pound of lean bacon into dice and fry over a slow fire until very crisp. Add 3 tablespoons of tarragon vinegar to the bacon grease and season lightly with salt and freshly ground pepper. Pour, while hot, over the greens, mix well, and serve at once. I’m actually not sure one can find dandelion leaves in November…
Thursday, October 30, 2008
What's Wrong with the World, and Why I hate Old People
[The discussion herein is explicit.]
What's wrong with the world, apart from the "Protestant Reformation" and the failure of the Hierarchy to Consecrate Russia to Our Lady, is screwing. Rampant, indescriminate screwing. Screwing without attachment, without commitment, without consequence. Screwing, indeed, without striving and without even caring about whom we screw.
Sex was never intended as a casual passtime.
The entire splendor and solemnity surrounding the Wedding ceremony and the elaborate bridal garments stems from the fact that these two people are going to live with each other and have sex with each other and no one else, and SUPPOSEDLY that they, and at the very least SHE, have/has never had sex with anyone else!
Western history has been shaped by two things: War, and Who Won Which Woman. "Four things greater than all things are: Women and horses and power and War" opines the narrator in Kipling's Ballad of the King's Jest. At the end of the poem he amends his statement to: "Two things greater than all things are: the first is love, the second is war." Which makes sense since horses certainly fall into the category of War and power comes from either War, or Who Won Which Woman.
May I digress? Of course, I may---It's my blog. In more intelligent ages, princesses and other ladies of privileged birth were raised to be Queens. They did not expect to receive---they expected to give. They expected to be supportive of the old man to whom they were married. They expected to assume responsibility not only for his House, but in a very real sense, for his subjects. They expected to lose their figures to childbearing. They expected to be self-sacrificing, dignified, courageous, charitable, chaste, pious, generous, and somewhat taken for granted. Self-pity used to be considered a fault...What planet were Di and Fergie from, anyway? My pre-adolescent daughters were shocked at their ignorance and self-indulgence. How did Diana become a sainted martyr? Which leads me back to my original theme...
No doubt liasons were formed which contained no affection and did no more than ally two kingdoms, but how many dynasties and kingdoms and indeed civilizations have risen or fallen because of one woman's ability or inability to bear sons for the king? What lies concealed between a woman's legs---NOT easily accessible, interestingly enough---was not INTENDED to be accessible. It was INTENDED to be a well guarded holy of holies accessible to one man and one man only and for the purpose not only of pleasure but of creating life and extending the very civilization.
There were reasons why whores and loose women were eschewed: not only did they spread disease, they caused young men to waste the precious seed needed to establish kingdoms and families. And the reason we are in such a mess today is because good women, what few there are, tolerate the whores.
It isn't FAIR that it is the woman's job to maintain domestic morality. But, by Heaven, that's the way it is. Or was. And all our screaming for equality only meant that we wanted out of our responsibilty. We stopped trying to bring our husbands and brothers up to our level and demanded to be let down to theirs. We stopped trying to live as God demanded and started demanding our share of the orgasms, as if that were the only thing that mattered. We traded secure and loving families, reverence for life, respect for our gender, societal stability and Heaven itself for Our Share of the Orgasms. The horrendous divorce rate, abortion rate, suicide, murder, drug use and ruin are our just rewards.
Sex, and heirs which are the fruit of sex, used to be the good man's reward for courage, fidelity, physical prowess and all the other virtues required by Chivalry. Now, however, sex is free. Why strive? And men DON'T strive anymore. They buy their wives, as they buy power, not with excellence but with money. And when the wife no longer pleases, there is no reason not to replace her.
And that is what's wrong with the world.
I hate Old People because they are the most ridiculous and damnable players in this universal tragedy. They have lost their Faith and have nothing to cling to but medical science and the promise of longevity. They think that having "sex", or what passes for sex---clumsy contact between artifically stiffened flacid penises and profusely lubricated withered vaginas---means they are young. No. It means that they are simply old, without any of the grace and wisdom that should be a part of their advanced age. They complain about the younger generations and their ignorance, but they teach nothing because they are too busy trying to hang on to a stage of their life which ended with their fertility. There is a reason that their parts no longer naturally engorge and become wet. God is telling them to move on.
A recent Simpson's episode included a pharmaceutical "commercial" which exactly illustrated this sad phenomenon: "Sorry, Jimmy, I can't go fishin' with you! Grandma and I are gonna go have Old People Sex! Thanks, Jamitin!"
Next month, Grandpa will be bitching about the fact that little Jimmy doesn't know how to bait a hook. Grandpa should be spending more time casting nightcrawlers into the murky depths and less time, well, never mind. Use your imaginination.
I'm sickened by our society's inability to value anything beautiful or fine or holy. I think this is why my agoraphobia gets worse with every day that passes. I just don't want to know what's out there.
What's wrong with the world, apart from the "Protestant Reformation" and the failure of the Hierarchy to Consecrate Russia to Our Lady, is screwing. Rampant, indescriminate screwing. Screwing without attachment, without commitment, without consequence. Screwing, indeed, without striving and without even caring about whom we screw.
Sex was never intended as a casual passtime.
The entire splendor and solemnity surrounding the Wedding ceremony and the elaborate bridal garments stems from the fact that these two people are going to live with each other and have sex with each other and no one else, and SUPPOSEDLY that they, and at the very least SHE, have/has never had sex with anyone else!
Western history has been shaped by two things: War, and Who Won Which Woman. "Four things greater than all things are: Women and horses and power and War" opines the narrator in Kipling's Ballad of the King's Jest. At the end of the poem he amends his statement to: "Two things greater than all things are: the first is love, the second is war." Which makes sense since horses certainly fall into the category of War and power comes from either War, or Who Won Which Woman.
May I digress? Of course, I may---It's my blog. In more intelligent ages, princesses and other ladies of privileged birth were raised to be Queens. They did not expect to receive---they expected to give. They expected to be supportive of the old man to whom they were married. They expected to assume responsibility not only for his House, but in a very real sense, for his subjects. They expected to lose their figures to childbearing. They expected to be self-sacrificing, dignified, courageous, charitable, chaste, pious, generous, and somewhat taken for granted. Self-pity used to be considered a fault...What planet were Di and Fergie from, anyway? My pre-adolescent daughters were shocked at their ignorance and self-indulgence. How did Diana become a sainted martyr? Which leads me back to my original theme...
No doubt liasons were formed which contained no affection and did no more than ally two kingdoms, but how many dynasties and kingdoms and indeed civilizations have risen or fallen because of one woman's ability or inability to bear sons for the king? What lies concealed between a woman's legs---NOT easily accessible, interestingly enough---was not INTENDED to be accessible. It was INTENDED to be a well guarded holy of holies accessible to one man and one man only and for the purpose not only of pleasure but of creating life and extending the very civilization.
There were reasons why whores and loose women were eschewed: not only did they spread disease, they caused young men to waste the precious seed needed to establish kingdoms and families. And the reason we are in such a mess today is because good women, what few there are, tolerate the whores.
It isn't FAIR that it is the woman's job to maintain domestic morality. But, by Heaven, that's the way it is. Or was. And all our screaming for equality only meant that we wanted out of our responsibilty. We stopped trying to bring our husbands and brothers up to our level and demanded to be let down to theirs. We stopped trying to live as God demanded and started demanding our share of the orgasms, as if that were the only thing that mattered. We traded secure and loving families, reverence for life, respect for our gender, societal stability and Heaven itself for Our Share of the Orgasms. The horrendous divorce rate, abortion rate, suicide, murder, drug use and ruin are our just rewards.
Sex, and heirs which are the fruit of sex, used to be the good man's reward for courage, fidelity, physical prowess and all the other virtues required by Chivalry. Now, however, sex is free. Why strive? And men DON'T strive anymore. They buy their wives, as they buy power, not with excellence but with money. And when the wife no longer pleases, there is no reason not to replace her.
And that is what's wrong with the world.
I hate Old People because they are the most ridiculous and damnable players in this universal tragedy. They have lost their Faith and have nothing to cling to but medical science and the promise of longevity. They think that having "sex", or what passes for sex---clumsy contact between artifically stiffened flacid penises and profusely lubricated withered vaginas---means they are young. No. It means that they are simply old, without any of the grace and wisdom that should be a part of their advanced age. They complain about the younger generations and their ignorance, but they teach nothing because they are too busy trying to hang on to a stage of their life which ended with their fertility. There is a reason that their parts no longer naturally engorge and become wet. God is telling them to move on.
A recent Simpson's episode included a pharmaceutical "commercial" which exactly illustrated this sad phenomenon: "Sorry, Jimmy, I can't go fishin' with you! Grandma and I are gonna go have Old People Sex! Thanks, Jamitin!"
Next month, Grandpa will be bitching about the fact that little Jimmy doesn't know how to bait a hook. Grandpa should be spending more time casting nightcrawlers into the murky depths and less time, well, never mind. Use your imaginination.
I'm sickened by our society's inability to value anything beautiful or fine or holy. I think this is why my agoraphobia gets worse with every day that passes. I just don't want to know what's out there.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Hanging Palin in effigy
It's not a hate crime. It's in very poor taste, but people have been hanged in effigy throughout history, with no ill effects to them.
It ISN'T a hate crime. What one resents, however, is the hypocrisy of the Left. Can you IMAGINE the hue and cry if Obama were hanged in effigy?
It ISN'T a hate crime. What one resents, however, is the hypocrisy of the Left. Can you IMAGINE the hue and cry if Obama were hanged in effigy?
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