11 April 2014 News

D'oh!

D’oh!

First off, a correction:Yesterday’s link regarding the slaughter of Christians might be a fake. Sorry, just learned about that. However, here’s a link to something real, from one of the most credible people on the planet.

 

Related: Brandeis disgraces itself with its treatment of Ayaan Hirsi Ali.

Kinda related: Is it me, or is Walid Shoebat starting to lean a bit Catholic? Look a this blog, and find the entries written by Walid Shoebat. . .

Capitol Hill Doings:

Lois Lerner Found in Contempt of Congress. Well, du~uh, and long past time for it tooDeansmile. Not that it’ll do much, but I appreciate the gesture. Although, I gotta say, everytime Trey Gowdy opens his mouth, I swoon like a teenaged girl meeting Jensen Ackles. ..

Sebelius resigns. She was given a crap job and no support, did the best she could with a turd sammich, tried to polish it nice for her d-bag boss. . . Truth be told, I ain’t gonna miss her, but I do have a bit of repect for the terrible position she was in.

The Bundy Ranch Seige

Attack Dogs and Tasers

Calling on the Sheriff to Arrest the Federales

The Next Waco (or Ruby Ridge, for that matter)

Bundy Ranch Blog (this goes right to the donation page)

There is word that the Militias are startign to arrive in numbers, now. I’ll try to post when I have something more solid.

Other updates:

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2 Dreams from the Past

It seems much of my impetus for non-fiction writing recently is my conversations with ChrissyTheHyphenated. In the combox for post Why a Rapture, I wrote of my dream about my someday-to-be-dog-friend, Anubis. As I wrote, I recalled another dream, definitely Revelations flavored, and featured a grassy hill. So, I’m gonna write about it, and then as a bonus, relate a funny dream that only Grunt and Lephael have known about until this point.

Dream 1: This was dreamed about 12-13 years ago. At the time, I hadn’t studied much at all in the way of prophecy (Christian or otherwise), but I dang well knew about angels, as angelology was a hobby of the time.

I’m standing on a field, the grass a bright, rich green. Bright like the sun is shining on it. The sky is dark and clear– not quite night-time dark, but I can see the stars in my peripheral vision. I’m looking at the horizon, at my eleven o’clock. From beyond the horizon, I see two fireworks shoot up and explode, one white, one red. The burning flecks radiate out, but instead of dissipating and falling, they elongate and grow brighter, becoming missile-like things headed right for where I (and others) are.

Somehow I know that they aren’t missiles, even before the unfurl/unfold. I know almost immediately that they are angels– the red are Seraphim (because Seraphim burn, yanno, so red), the white are Cherubim (because the cherubim–not putti!– are very intellectual sorts. Logic and Reason. Clear. White).

So, these angels come and land on the field, and line all us humans up into queues– one Seraph facing the head of each line, multiple Cherubim managing each line. I’m so distracted by all the angels all around (because Angels! Pretty! Shiny!!!) that I don’t pay attention to what’s happening at the front of the lines as we shuffle through. Before I realize it, I’m at the head of the line, with something coming right at my head.

On instinct, I lift my left hand to my forehead to block, and get a handful of sealing wax, imprinted with a design I can’t exactly remember. Part of the wax seal is on my forehead, but most of it is in the palm of my left hand. The Seraph with the self-waxing stamp gives me a level look as I mutter “Oh, crap! I’ll never be able to use this hand again!”

The Cherub to my right gently pats my shoulder with a somewhat rueful look. “It’s okay,” he says. “We all know who you are and where you go.” The implication is that I have something of a reputation among the angels, and that reputation is something along the lines of “Easily distracted, somewhat flaky klutz.” As I can think of far worse reputations, I don’t mind.

The Seraph huffs at the Cherub, and the latter points me to a hillside not that far away, and says “Your friends are over there.” I go, somewhat gingerly cradling my left hand, and sit down next to some very good friends of mine, who pass me a bread-basket full of popcorn. “We got good seats,” one says. “We’ll be able to see everything!”

End of Dream 1

Dream 2: I’m adding this because it’s funny and deals again with angels– or a rather specific one in this case. First, before we get to the dream, if you’re not familiar with Michigan J Frog, you need to be familiar with this:

The running joke with the frog is that he only ever sings in front of that one guy– if anyone else comes along, he reverts back to normal frog behavior. And then starts singing again when they go away.

This dream happened in late May of 2004– I was in the hospital, the first time I’d stayed overnight in a hospital, in the process of being diagnosed with cancer. I was not yet relocated to the “cancer ward”, still in the general unit with a roommate that was, I think, dying. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on– they’d run enough tests to seriously alarm the docs, but the biopsy wasn’t to happen until the next day. But they wanted to keep me, because they were afraid that I’d slip into respiratory arrest at any moment.

So, being the amateur angelologist that I was, I knew that when you were sick or in need of healing, the number one angel to ask for was Raphael. He’s known a the Divine Physician, the Top Angel when it comes to Healing. He also has a reputation as being the “chummiest”, “most approachable”, and “goofiest” of the angels.

So that night, I finished out my nighttime prayers with the following: “And, God, if it isn’t too much trouble, and if he’s got a spare moment or two after his real work, and if it’s okay by You, tell Raphael he’s always welcome to come by. Even the smallest bit of help would be deeply appreciated. Thanks.”

That said, I snuggled down and went to sleep.

I dreamed I woke again in that same room, and in came Raphael, bright and shining, dressed in a tux with tails, and spats, and a top hat and cane and white gloves, singing that same song and dancing that same dance as the frog! Followed by all his Malachim helpers!

It was so ridiculously silly that I started giggling uncontrollably, and woke myself up I was giggling so hard! From that moment on I knew I’d be okay. It was something I couldn’t explain to the doctors or nurses, or even my distraught mother and father– though I did tell mom years later. I knew I’d be okay, because Raphael came by and made me laugh (it is the best medicine, after all).

And he seriously is the goofiest angel, ever. [Even keeping in mind that he whupped Asmodeus’ butt barehanded and locked him in the desert until the end of time. Mmhmm! He’s not one of The Magnificent Seven for nothing, you know!]

28 June 2012, St. Irenaeus of Lyons

Big News Day. See below for some SCOTUS and Colorado Fire coverage.

Let’s get to the rest:

The House votes 255-67 to hold Eric Holder in contempt. Ace writes that since 17 Dems voted for contempt, that means it’s a bipartisan move. And:“The Democrats staged a walk out. From WI and IN to the House of Representatives, when Democrats don’t get their way they walk away like spoiled little brats.”

UPDATE: Missed this earlier– Fulton Sheen declared “Venerable”. Heck to the yeah, man! Next step, Beatification!

Soros-Funded Group Plans to Undermine Fortnight for Freedom Campaign | Women of Grace

From Women of Grace

Soros-Funded Group Plans to Undermine Fortnight for Freedom Campaign

The memo contains “talking points” on how to handle the bishops, what kind of questions to ask them to trip them up and otherwise make them look bad in the public eye.

Read the whole thing.

16 Feb 2012 Feast of St Paul, Shipwrecked

1)St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.

Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil.

May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou,

O Prince of the heavenly hosts, by the power of God,

thrust into hell Satan, and all the evil spirits,

who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.

2) Today the spirits of frustration and despair are making themselves known. Apparently, not just to myself. I don’t know when St. Paul went and wrecked his ship, but it’s appropriate to how one feels today– shipwrecked. We look to the “leaders” of our Church, and think to ourselves about too many of them, “Damn, we been had. Bamboozled. Run amok!” Christ himself promised that the gates of Hell would not prevail against the Church, but they sure have been having a good go at it.

3) In that spirit, some music is needed. We’re not yet at the stage when Angela’s “Beautiful Fighter” is the theme, not quite yet. But, I do think my two favorite pieces from the Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle Soundtrack fit well.

Do Not Be Taken In By False Choices!

The news today is all about an “Accomodation” the White house is proposing in the whole Birth Control Mandate Dabacle. I hope and pray no one falls for this. Here’s how it’s being described:

One source familiar with the decision described the accommodation as “Hawaii-plus,” insisting that it’s better than the Hawaii plan – for both sides.

In Hawaii the employer is responsible for referring employees to places where they can obtain the contraception; Catholic leaders call that material cooperation with evil. But what the White House will likely announce later today is that the relationshio between the religious employer and the insurance company will not need to have any component involving contraception. The insurance company will reach out on its own to the women employees. This is better for both sides, the source says, since the religious organizations do not have to deal with medical care to which they object, and women employees will not have to be dependent upon an organization hostile to that care in order to obtain it.

This announcement would not go that far. Sources say it will involve health insurance companies helping to provide the coverage, since it’s actually cheaper for these companies to offer the coverage than to not do so, because of unwanted pregnancies and resulting complications.

Rick Moran adds:

Basically, the White House is offering a sleight of hand solution, allowing Catholic organizations to deliberately turn the other way when insurance companies offer the coverage, thus “sparing” them the burden of having to offer it themselves.

Let me make something clear. There are two ways to sin– by commission and by ommission. Commision is doing something sinful. Omission is failing to even try to prevent sin when you have the ability to stop it, or failing to do something you ought to be doing. It works like this: If you murder someone, you have sinned by commission. If you see someone being murdered, and take no action to stop it, you sin by omission. The second is equally as severe a sin as the first. Got it? [My own failings on some issues condemn me, I fear, as I have not been as zealous in my duties as I should have been.]

So, what the WH is offering here, is basically this: “Instead of forcing you to sin by commission, we’re offering the option of sinning by omission instead.”

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Our Lady of Vailankanni

Meandering through the Crypt Church under the Shrine, I was thinking a lot on my friends Grunt and Shalini. One little chapel in particular really brought Shalini to mind– the Chapel for Our Lady of Vailankanni.

Standing just outside the chapel of Our Lady of Vailankanni

Visiting The Shrine

Around these parts, when a Catholic like yours truly talks about going to the Shrine, what they mean is “I’m going to visit the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.”

I was down there all last night because they were taping the masses for shut-ins, and my church choir was the choir for those two dates (3rd and 5th Sunday of this upcoming Lent). They have the masses in the Crypt Church, which is one of my favorite places on the planet. If the upstairs is all Majesty, the downstairs Crypt Church is all Mystery.

I took some pictures with my cell phone of some of my favorite things. A friend was taking some others, and I’m hoping she emails me copies to add.

Oh, and there will be another post coming up right after this with a set that goes together.

Pictures after the break ^_^!

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Something Ain’t Quite Right

Ok, ok . . . let me first say that I believe that Osama binLadin is Dead, for realsies. He is an ex-terrorist, he is no more, he has gone to meet his maker, to wonder why his virgins are so ugly, and why it’s so goddamn hot in Paradise.

And, I admit, I’m quite pleased and happy at the notion. To every servince man and woman who was part of bringing this rabid dog down, THANK YOU! May God Bless and Smile upon you and your way.

Now to the part where I prove, once and for all, that I am a total KillJoy.

Something here ain’t right. I can’t put my finger on it. I know it’s rooted in the fact that I don’t trust this administration any more than I can throw them. Not only is there no trust, there is a lot of distrust. So yes, much bias to begin with.

My first thought, when I heard they buried him at sea was “Really? Well, I hope they got some good pics, or kept some essential parts behind for DNA purposes . . .”

Timing is questionable as always.

And my intuition is pinging me like sub on crack.

Let me explain a few things, first. Back in college, I went to school in New Orleans. I and a bunch of other out of state kids got to be good friends. We used to sit around in common areas and talk about the coming storm that would drown the city, and we all swore to each other that we’d be out of the area before it came. This was 1998-2002. The last of us left New Orleans for good three months before Katrina hit.

A little after Katrina, I started getting those feelings again, that lingering, approaching doom, ticking on me like the 24 clock. tick-thunck, tick-thunk, tick-thunk. My eyes were drawn to economic matters, and the feelings just mounted and mounted. It felt like the world was spinning out of control. I discussed this with my old college friends, many of whom felt the same thing. In Dec 2008, one called me, and I remember telling her I felt like we’d tipped off the edge, just didn’t know it yet. “It’s going to get bad out there,” I said. “It’s gonna get so much worse before it gets better. . .”

Witness the last several years economy, and various political issues, and the strain our society is experiencing.

Understand, I only recently studied economics, finance, all that. I didn’t know any of these things at the time. I was a Music major, with a love for theory and a talent for Tarot.

Interesting, that it’s these latter talents that, I believe, inform my intuition to such a degree. I have training in recognizing patterns, in stringing together signs to form larger pictures, in analyzing rhythm and harmony.

The news of Saddam’s Capture was a major chord, played by shining brass and snappy drums.

The news of Osama’s Death is a minor chord, a cadence signaling a shift of key, played by low strings and piccolo. That piccolo is trying to draw our attention, but what the hell are the cellos and basses up to? Where are the brass? The percussion?

My intuition, that warned me years in advance of Katrina and the economic collapse, is telling me that something here ain’t right.

Moreover, the other manifestation of intuition is that I get suddenly ill before major Badness happens– with no explanation. I was suddenly very sick the night of 9/10/2001. Likewise before Mumbai and Ft. Hood. Last night, at 9:30 pm EDT, I was suddenly very nauseated. I was able to forestall illness by dosing myself liberally with ginger, but there was no cause for me to be feeling this way. Nothing has been “going around”, dinner was perfectly cooked. No cause for illness.

Then I awoke to the news this morning, and my first reaction was not the jubilation I expected, but wariness.

Look, right now, I admit, this is all baseless. I just want it written, for the record. Something ain’t right.

UPDATE: Ann Barnhardt hits on my concerns re: timing: Continue reading