On Thursdays, for some time now, I’ve been reproducing old posts — reproducing the whole post. Today I must make an exception, because the comments on this post became much more significant than the post itself. So I will merely link to the original:
The December 14, 2012 Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting was, at the time, the worst mass murder shooting in American history. It left the nation stunned. The perpetrator, Adam Lanza, was a singularly troubled young man, and likewise his mother — the title says it in a nutshell, about her. The original post links to a WaPo article about her.
Concerning Baltimore City’s recent ordinance about panhandling, Dan Rodricks complained that the ordinance didn’t address “the underlying issues;” but then, he didn’t, either. So I thought I would, here. These posts pertain:
In 2012, during a trip by President Obama to a conference in Columbia, a number of Secret Service agents hooked up with some hookers in a hotel room. One service provider wound up having a dispute with one client over how much she should be paid. She evaluated the services she’d rendered at ~$750. He did not. The dispute spilled over onto the street and drew the attention of the police. Thus we had a bit of a scandal.
In my view, however, the most outrageous feature of the event …
… is that he only offered her $30.
Any woman I’d engage gets more than that merely to bat her eyelashes and giggle.
In context, this detail only epitomizes the overwhelming hubris of the entire situation, and is well worth costing the gentleman his job.
But for the racial aspect, the Trayvon Martin case would not be noticed.
I admit being less concerned about him than about the dozens of other teens who are gunned down every month across the country for no better reason and by people of their own race. Someone will object that a black perpetrator would have been arrested. I answer that an arrest and prison term won’t bring back the dead.
I mean to include in my audition audio files, a telling of the story of the Trojan horse — or Trojan War. I’ve wanted to conclude that telling, with the story of how the man who discovered the modern location of the actual ancient Troy, supposedly did so based on information he saw in a dream. To verify my information, yesterday I read portions of the book Finding the Walls of Troy, by Susan Hueck Allen. I did not find exactly what I was looking for.
Dad was still in good health back in ’83-85, when I became so deeply interested in spiritual healing. He maintained a pragmatic skepticism about it throughout; in essence, “What’s the use? We’re all going to die anyway.”
I recalled that Monday night 12/07/09 on my way home from Rite Aid, where I’d had to go buy a few things. I was having pretty severe pain in lower left abdomen, after having had several “difficult” eliminations earlier in the day. I took the pain for infection-inflamed ureter; later concluded I was passing a stone. Long time since I’d passed a stone. Long time by my standards, that is.
The state I was in at that hour, I was inclined to cancel all appointments and errands for the next day, and plan to spend all day Tuesday flat on my back in bed. With pain like this, you can’t do much more than just stare into space and feel miserable.
I would recall one author’s answer to Dad’s argument; Lawrence Althouse is the guy’s name. He said the sheer alleviation of pain — without opiates — is justification enough for the practice of spiritual healing. Pain occasions loss of productivity, as just described. It also stresses relationships; with any less self-control as to these things than I’ve learned in the past few years, had anyone crossed my path the wrong way on that trip home, I might well have snapped at the person.
That’s not something you want to do in the ghetto. Especially at night.
There are other was to effect spiritual healing, besides prayer.
Just being nice to people, as opposed to choosing, say, to inject needless pain (“static”) into their world — that’s one.
Crystal happened to wait on me at the Rite Aid; she’s my favorite clerk, and I’d not seen her in months. Damn if she didn’t smile at me and give me a cheery greeting as soon as I came in the door.
Damn if my pain didn’t go away — completely — for some time, later after I got home, as I recalled that encounter. “Spiritual” — healing — indeed.
Every word can work good or ill. My choice; your choice. on air talent, radio talk show, talk show host, the homeless blogger
(Transcribed from a letter to my mother dated 25 September 2007.)
This conversation yesterday with a co-worker astonished me.
“Peaches” is a 42-year old, very short woman, certainly a grandmother and very likely great-grandmother, who has about half her teeth. She works principally as a cashier, and is a really good worker and co-worker. She constantly teases me by pretending to flirt with me.
I was stocking the trash bags shelves, and became aware that she was in quite a pickle. Her shift was over, and she had appointments she had to keep at a certain time across town; but she also had assembled this bag full of items she needed to buy at once and before leaving the store. And the line at the cash register was quite long. (Long lines at cash register are a constant, intractable problem at this store.)
I told her facetiously, “Just go down there and push ’em all out.” She said, “No, that would be unmannerly, and that’s not like me.” (Conduct that can be called “unmannerly” is a big, big issue in this community, and a big issue for me personally since I see so much of it and find it offensive.) She went on: “Now, I like your manners. You speak to the customers …” Continue reading I really have nothing better to do→
(Originally posted 10/11/13. Transcribed from an e-mail I sent my mother 24 August 2010.)
Jesus said any number of things in large part, at least, for shock value.
Their outrageousness is easily lost on 21st Century students, for two reasons. First, we have heard or read these things so many times that any shock value they might have at first had for us — when we first heard them, say, perhaps at age 4 or age 5 — has long since worn off. We’re not likely to remember it, and also not likely to give the opinions of our 4- or 5-year-old selves, the credit they, in this case, deserve.
Second, by virtue of “respect for authority,” for centuries students of Chrstianity have trained themselves to ignore, deny or suppress any outrage they might feel at anything The Teacher says. Instead, one expects oneself and all one’s fellow students, approvingly, to “tip my hat … take a bow … smile and grin …”[*]