Why Identity Politics / Social Justice Warriorism is driving me mad

Genius? Dunces? Him? CONFEDERACY???

Mainly because it's killing satire. What would Jonathan Swift have said to all the craziness going on in North American society these days? Possibly, nothing: he'd have been hauled before some human rights or social justice tribunal for writing Gulliver's Travels (alternately, he'd have been given an award by Planned Parenthood for his essay "A Modest Proposal" wherein he --satirically-- suggests that society solve the "overpopulation" and poverty problems in one go by eating their children.) It is satire. He wasn't serious. You have to explain that these days.

When satire is dead, comedy is dead. Also drama, poetry, song, fiction and film. I avoid Hollywood movies for the most part, because  they are no longer interested in telling entertaining and exciting stories. Most of them contain lame preaching on trendy topics, and thus have become the equivalent of medieval morality plays  (in fact, they're probably far worse, becuase at least back then, people knew how to write).  It's the same reason why some Christian ghetto novels and films are so bad. The story must come first; the moral or lesson must be incidental, not central to the purpose of the artwork. But I digress.

I enjoyed this essay/article by Lionel Shriver. I must admit I had not been interested in her work until I saw her interviewed by Mark Steyn, back when he had a TV show on CRTV. Those videos are also worth checking out.

It doesn’t take much parsing to conclude that protecting all and sundry from the terrible experience of having your feelings hurt is the end of free speech altogether. Since nowadays “you can’t argue with what people feel,” umbrage is freed from rational justification. Given that the better part of the human race is crazy, stupid, or both, there’s nary a thought in the world whose airing won’t offend somebody. Doesn’t Darwin offend creationists? Furthermore, in granting so much power to woundedness, we incentivise hypersensitivity. If we reward umbrage, we will get more of it. We do reward umbrage, and we’re buried in it by the truckload.

If you feed me, I will grow.

Trigger warnings/Microaggressions

More from Ms Shriver:

Yet these days, straight white fiction writers whose characters’ ethnicity, race, disability, sexual identity, religion or class differs from their own can expect their work to be subjected to forensic examination—and not only on social media. Publishers of young adult fiction and children’s literature hire “sensitivity readers” to comb through manuscripts for perceived slights to any group with the protected status once reserved for distinguished architecture.

Good heavens, what hope do aspiring writers have, unless the culture regains its sanity?
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From our Killer Headlines files

And my adjective is meant as a sad and tragic irony. I read this article, but I didn't really need to, because the headline says it all.

Deputy Who Didn't Enter Parkland School Defends Himself 

Well, yes, that's rather self-evident, isn't it? He didn't go in because he needed to defend himself, not the kids and staff who died.

Protocol, orders, yadda yadda. Law enforcement is hard; heroism even harder. My nephew and brother are city police officers who have faced danger and threats and death and the whole nine yards. Serve and protect. May God have mercy on those who died, and those who have to live with grief and shame.
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Fashion for us fifty-plus folk

I'm not quite ready for this yet. 

So this Yahoo article is titled: "Are you too old for jeans?" And I had to click, because I still wear jeans. So does my dad, and he's 92: if he's not too old for jeans, no one is. I read the article so that you don't have to.

From Our Belgio-Canadian Friend

By whom, of course, I mean Mark Steyn. Read his latest on our culture’s ongoing descent into a technologically advanced Dark Age.
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You can't make this up

The same people who told us to "Let it all hang out" and "Everybody's doing it" in the 60s and 70s are now issuing "Hugging Guidelines" and forcing employees to spy and report on each other for "inappropriate" relationships, whatever that means. No more eye contact at the water cooler? Hester Prynne, call your office pillory.

(HT Dr JB Peterson on FB)
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An interview so remarkable

That I was tempted to change the name of our blog to "Sane Women Doing Sane Things." Seriously, I can't believe there are living, breathing North American university professors who openly say such things (and I mean that in a GOOD way). Strange times, indeed.  Professor Paglia sees the death of Western Civ looming (don't we all), but I'd like to hope that if a few more of us have the courage to speak up and denounce the lunacy of post-modernism, there is still a chance to keep barbarism and totalitarianism at bay. Thank you, Dr Peterson, for all you continue to do. It has been life-changing for so many of us.

This video (like all his others) is worth every minute*, I assure you.



*Some may ask: "Where do you find the time to watch a video that long?" You may as well ask how a football fan finds time to watch a game, or how a chick finds time to watch a chick-flick, or how an epicure finds time to enjoy a dinner at his favourite restaurant.

PS Apologies for the sporadic blogging. I'd really meant to do better, but September decided to be a rather insane month.
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Whenever I get the urge to correct bad grammar

I give in. The feeling never passes. 

Poster seen at a local bargain store. Some bargain.

1) The first line should read "work [space] out," not "workout."  "Workout" is a noun, not a verb/infinitive.

2) "Lie" not "lay". Lay is a transitive verb, requiring a direct object. You can lay bricks, or a wreath, or floor tile or an egg. You cannot "lay down."

Yes, I am a grammar geek. It's not about shaming people; it's about defending Western Civ. The way we speak (and write and spell) does matter. Just ask Professor Higgins. Or Dr. Jordan Peterson.
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How to write a best-selling book

Well, if I knew that, I wouldn't be sitting here, all poor and obscure, would I? In my 20-odd years of freelance writing (and most of them have been very odd, indeed), I've penned hundreds of thousands of words. Some of them have even taken the shape of books, but only theoretically and/or germinally--that is, they still languish in Word files, and have not been bound and printed for sale. (One or two are even fiction, but something tells me I'm never going to give J.K.Rowling a run for her money.)

Say what you will about "repressive" Victorian society.

And I'll tell you that some behaviours damn well NEED to be repressed (hello, Quebec! Freedom of speech isn't one of them). A Victorian gentleman would not leer at a woman, never mind be verbally vulgar, grope her, or worse. Far worse. What on earth to make of stories like this? Happening in "civilized" Europe? God save us from those who do not respect the dignity of the human person.
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Have you seen Mockingjay 2?

I did, and contrary to some reviewers who gave it a pass, I loved it. Yes, some moments were rather silly, and others were utterly predictable (I find most movies are; it annoys my kids to death when I predict things as we're watching films, but then I am old, and they don't realize how cliched mainstream filmmaking has become). Anyhoo, if you message me on Facebook or email we, we can discuss why I liked this movie, but I won't discuss it publicly because… spoilers. But I'll give you a hint: read this Idlepost by David Warren, and see if you can find the connection. Let's just say this: I feel vindicated.
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Want to understand the Middle East?

Graph representing historical alliances, wars and grudges in  Middle East.

Good luck. A friend recently told me that it is nearly impossible for most westerners to comprehend what's going on "over there." And after reading these two pieces (by Ben Shapiro and David Warren), I believe him. God help us. Going to pray for Our Lady's intercession with my olive-wood rosary from Bethlehem, and then make some chocolate chip cookies. 

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Fretting over the demise of western civilization?

Or perhaps I should say, "Fainting in the sultry glebe"? Yeah, me too. As if you couldn't tell (we have an entire category devoted to that). Well, shame on you. And me. Though it is just a teeny bit surreal when some of us on the planet are listening to Chopin, and others are throwing their feces around ...and yet secular leftist humanists shrilly insist that all cultures are equal. They are not. But why cry or rant over it? Pray instead. And embrace beauty. And do not be afraid to proclaim that no one and nothing has brought more beauty to the world than Christ and Christendom. 

And mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa for so often failing to remember all of the above.

Now go to the Divine Office site and listen to this hymn (sung by the Choir of Christ's College), and then pray the Office for the hour where you are.

The Lord My Pasture Shall Prepare

The Lord my pasture shall prepare
And feed me with a shepherd’s care;
His presence shall my wants supply
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noonday walks He shall attend
And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the sultry glebe I faint
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary, wandering steps He leads,
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds, I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile;
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crowned,
And streams shall murmur all around.

Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill,
For Thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid
And guide me through the dreadful shade.

“The Lord my pasture shall prepare” by Choir of Christ’s College; 

Words: Joseph Addison, 1712.

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"Now we have 'airheads'"

Lib-lefty politician: Vote for me and you will get lots of free stuff!
Electorate: Yay! 

I feel so vindicated (and affirmed) when I discover I've been thinking the same thoughts as a smart person. Of course, it's a tragic thing to feel affirmed when cultural and civilizational collaspe is in the offing. I really hadn't planned to post about the election, because it's too depressing. (Like Mrs. Beazly, I'm planning not to watch the news for the next decade or so.)

However, if you need our new Prime Minister (T-who-cannot-be-named) summed up, look no further: David Warren's "The Triumph of Drivel." The money quotes are just too numerous, so you should read the whole thing.

Much as I despised his Liberal predecessors, they also knew what a budget was, and could discern differences between large and small numbers. [...]

In addition to snowboarding, his experience includes nightclub bouncer, and teaching high school in Vancouver. To many (me for instance), his father was a devil in human flesh, his mother demonstrably insane, yet the lad was not really exposed to politics until it came into his head, or into the heads of Liberal Party organizers, that thanks to his family connexion, he could probably get elected to Parliament, in Montreal. This happened in 2007; he now has approximately eight years of bewilderment under his belt. [...]

His sincerity shines when it comes to a small range of policy enthusiasms, such as the legalization of marijuana and brothels, and he is visibly convinced that peace is much nicer than war. [...]

So how did this happen? Mr. Warren explains:

As I’ve mentioned before, the overwhelming majority of the general, voting population have been morally and intellectually debilitated — “idiotized” is my preferred term — by post-modern media and education, and by spiritual neglect within 

Amen, brother. 

Hands-down, Theo Caldwell wins the prize for the most engaging epithet: "ridiculous ballerina," but when he's not being funny, he too is struggling to wrap his head around how the majority of Canadians can be so utterly clueless as to elect someone even more shallow and incompetent than Barack Obama (audio for this vid not great, unfortunately).

At this point, I really am unsure whether to go gently into that horrific night, or to rage rage against the dying of the light. The latter is so exhausting. Perhaps there is a third way. If I wish to retain my sanity and my hope, I must continue to believe it. 

Laura Rosen Cohen's advice (snippet below) is remarkably similar to that of Bl. Mother Teresa: "Deal with what is at your feet." 

Thus, my post-election advice:
In my view, the important thing in times like these is to focus on the micro. Let the Liberals expend their hot air (and your money of course) on the Big Picture Save the Planet stuff and let them really knock themselves out. Focus on the small stuff because the small stuff is really the big stuff. 
Keep raising your children well. Speak up for what you believe in. Take on the battles that you can, (not what you can't). Live well, tell jokes. Tell your family and your friends you love them. Sing. Dance. Paint. Pray. Give thanks. Give hugs.
It's always darkest before the dawn

Amen, sister. 

Time to shower and get ready to take the kids to music lessons. Jesus is our saviour, but Chopin, Bach, Mozart and Beethoven certainly help.

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The Gospel According to...

Lovely vintage wedding photos here.

Ashley Madison: "Life is Short; Have an Affair."

God: "Eternal Damnation is Long: Maybe Don't."

Oh, those poor Ashley Madison customers!! They signed up in good faith, assuming their secrets would be faithfully protected; that the adultery website would be a safe, secure, place. That their secrets would stay that way...forever (or at least till Death did them part!). Their hope and faith in Ashley has been BETRAYED! Those poor... oh wait.

Like that brilliant Matt Walsh guy says, Cheating on Your Spouse is not a Mistake.

"stupid enough to register their names in a database of adulterers compiled by a company whose very business is dishonesty..."

May God have mercy on Western Civ. 
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Every so often, you have to give thanks

...that the Sixties are over. I was watching Sponge Bob Squarepants with my 11-year-old and they used this song on the background track. I'd never heard it before, but of course I immediately recognized the voice, and googled accordingly.

One thing I found remarkable was how natural and incredibly at ease he was throughout the entire performance. Cringeworthy, and it makes you wonder how Simon Cowell would have reacted, had those "Whatzit's Got Talent" or similar shows existed back then. Enjoy. Or not.


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Are you ready for the new religion?

The French Revolution with their goofy re-invented Republican Calendar and attempted abolition of Catholicism had nothing on this. Who needs goddesses of Reason and Liberty when you can have a coy, 65-year-old airbrushed goddess-man wearing a push-up bra? The scary thing is how seriously the talking heads are taking this. (And I guess we MUST take it seriously, because it's the new theocracy.)

Following are comments from the Prophet Brendan O'Neill (he really is). I wonder how long it'll be before they stone him to death for not scraping to the new deity (aka a certain photoshopped Vanity Fair covergrrrrl, and all he/she/it stands for):

It’s iconic in the traditional sense, too, in that it’s being venerated as an actual icon, a devotional image of an apparently holy human. It’s an image we’re all expected to bow down to, whose essential truth we must imbibe; an image you question or ridicule at your peril, with those who refuse to genuflect before it facing excommunication from polite society. Yesterday’s Jennermania confirms how weirdly authoritarian, even idolatrous, trans politics has become.

Thomas L. McDonald at patheos goes one further:

I have a more serious reason for resisting it. Normalization of transsexualism is not just the trailing edge of the gay rights movement: it’s the leading edge of the transhumanism movement. It’s a deeply gnostic sense of the body that is at cross-purposes with a healthy understanding of the individual. It’s also driven by the idea that we can redefine fundamental issues of humanity by mere acts of will. It is the Nietzschean will to power applied, forcefully, to the body and sexuality itself.It’s bad enough when this will to power warps instruments of civilization such as the family and marriage, but in transhumanism it seeks to bend the meaning of our embodied being. Nothing good can come of this.

He points out that science is no longer based on truth (biology, emperical evidence, and so forth) but is "merely a matter of assuaging hurt feelings." It stands to reason that politics, religion, education, economics, and the rule of law must therefore follow.
Well, if you can't beat em, join em. To hell with 2015! Let this be Year 1, BC, of our Brave New World (the BC, of course, stands for "Bruce-Caitlyn".) And let's rename North America too, while we're at it. Maybe we can call it Trans-ill-vain-ia or something.

Oh, and in future, being cast out of polite society will surely be the least of our worries. Reign of terror? You ain't seen nothin yet. There are guys roaming the planet who don't give a tinker's dam about hurt feelings (except their own). There won't be any Bruce-Caitlyn debate with these monsters.

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Trinity Sunday

I have such good childhood memories of the parish in our small home town. I can still remember how packed the church was, pretty much EVERY Sunday. And I remember all the men coming in suits and ties, and parking their Frank Sinatra hats at the back, and the entire congregation singing hymns--yes, real hymns. (I especially remember my dad's booming joyful voice singing these hymns.)

But of course it wasn't about us. In those days we still thought church had something to do with worshipping God. It's a great comfort to hear these hymns after all these years of "Peace is Flowing Like a River," and "Thank You, God, For Giving Us Us," and "Break Not the Circle of Enabling Love" (honest, I didn't make that last one up; it's real).

"O God Almighty Father" (sung by regular folk, but lovely):



And... "Holy! Holy! Holy!" (King's College Choir):

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George Orwell, call the head office of your Hymnody Division

Yo, God, I did you a favour and came to church; 

you're welcome.

Anthony Esolen. Oy, but this guy is brilliant. And funny (to wit: "Muddlesome broke out in hives at leadeth and feedeth.") He had me laughing out loud at, "Fetch the smelling salts, Nellie..."

"Rescuing Hymnody from Stupidity":

To Muddlesome, “the vernacular” meant the colloquial: an office memo ending with an amen. That’s all. He’s no linguist; just as the people who vandalized our churches were not painters or sculptors. He can’t imagine that a mother tongue might “contain multitudes,” including the register of the sacred. He’s a subtractor. If peasants want to be courtly in their oral poetry and folk hymns, too bad for them. Drag them into Future Church for their own good.

 So he had to eliminate those pronouns...

Thus openeth the first Can of Worms.

And my, how far those worms can travel. I actually heard an ordained personage (who has been through like, a hundred years of university and everything) say (out loud) from the ambo: "God calls us to Godself." (Not "himself". Godself.) So allergic was he to masculine pronouns, even referring to GOD THE FATHER (is Jesus' testimony in that regard not enough? Gee, I don't think the chain of authority for Christianity goes any higher than that, but whatever), that instead of uttering a grammatically correct statement, he was willing to sound as though he was having a stroke. But I digress. That was a homily, not a hymn. But church "music" has fared no differently. Read Mr Esolen's article if you share my frustration that we began the century* with hymns like this:

 To Jesus Christ, our Sov'reign King,
Who is the world's salvation,
All praise and homage do we bring,
And thanks and adoration.

Refrain:
Christ Jesus Victor, Christ Jesus Ruler!
Christ Jesus, Lord and Redeemer!

2. Thy reign extend, O King benign,
To ev'ry land and nation,
For in Thy kingdom, Lord divine,
Alone we find salvation.
(Refrain)

3. To Thee and to Thy Church, great King,
We pledge our hearts' oblation,
Until before Thy throne we sing,
In endless jubilation.

--by Msgr Martin Hellreigel

ex-pat German priest, *1941, so... a comment on Fascism

And ended the century with campfire songs like this:

Thank you, God, for giving us us.
Thank you, God, for giving us us.
Thank you, God, for giving us us.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiii-ght where we are!
--ex-Rev. Carey Landry

Peace out.


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Code Blue

I feel another business opportunity coming on: manufacturing T-shirts in blue (or really, any colour) that read: I WILL NOT BE BULLIED INTO WEARING PINK.

The Prophet Steyn (pbuh):

"Awareness-raising"? I think we need to raise awareness that, unless you've got the T-shirt concession, all these Pink Days are worthless crap that do nothing for the problem they claim to be addressing. If you've chanced to see me in person, you'll know I often wear a pink shirt. Like the country song says, "I Was Pink Shirt When Pink Shirt Wasn't Cool — Er, Mandatory." But, on Pink Shirt Day, I would wear mauve or turquoise or chartreuse or anything but pink, because, when the state is committed to coercing a ruthless conformity, that's the time to show that a flickering flame of the contrarian, iconoclastic spirit still flickers in the Canadian schoolhouse. You may get bullied for not wearing pink on the Day of Pink, but you'll feel better for it.

You are not supposed to be weary of the world, only 4 days into the Easter Season, but I'm getting there. Time to stop reading current events and Pray.
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I agree with Simcha: Ditch the Prom

Classic Simcha. This is a great article, and you should pop over and read it for yourself, especially if you have kids in high school. (h/t Daria on FB)

The prom has long since ceased to be formal and dignified. It's a circus at best or (no apologies) a Slutstravaganza at worst. It's hard to believe that in some parts of the world, girls want to go to prom mostly naked and (so to speak) drop acid, and in other parts of the world, girls have to wear body bags in public, and sometimes get acid thrown in their faces, just for wanting to go to school.

Never give up on a dream

Follow your Dreams

Believe in Your Dreams

Don't Stop Believing...in Your Dreams

Dream for Tomorrow...Today

Today is the Tomorrow you Worried About Yesterday

Trust in Tomorrow 

Today is the First Day of the Rest of Your Life

...as a Quadriplegic if You're Foolish Enough to Drink and Drive

Word: homeschooling. My first three high school "seniors" (graduates) never wanted so much as a dinner or even a small family party to mark the occasion (which is a bit sad, but there you have it). #4 is having a grad party: along with the families of 3 other cousins, we rented a church hall and are having a by-invitation potluck dinner and an old-fashioned dance, with real music and real dancing. But you don't need to homeschool: any student and his family could do the same. And yes, I do realize that some schools are good, and have nice proms and graduation ceremonies on a relatively modest scale. 

I'm just not much for that sort of thing. When I graduated from high school, I was part of a rebel movement to have our theme be: "Another Brick in the Wall" (yes, we wanted the Pink Floyd ditty as our grad theme song). We had votes on our side, but the Principal vetoed it. He could not, however, stop me from wearing a Halloween costume to my graduation, which I did. (Relax, it was a gown, but I'd borrowed it from my sister, who had worn it as a Halloween costume, which I also did six months before I wore it to grad. It was a peach-coloured lacy pioneer-lady type gown. The material point is that I paid nothing for it, and was not the least bit freaked or ashamed that I had not kept it under wraps --like a wedding gown!-- as some folk apparently think is necessary.)

I guess I also have a thing about long, boring speeches. At my husband's convocation from Engineering, I slipped out as soon as I saw him receive his degree, and went shopping at a nearby mall. At my own convocation, as soon as I received my degree, I slipped out and went to play in a badminton tournament with Mrs. Beazly. Good times.
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