If it's Tuesday, that must mean there's another electryifying installment of the Diabolical Demystifying Divas and the Munificent yet Magnificent Men's Club.

Today's topic as we've begun calling it in chats amongst ourselves: Ring-Ring.

Ahem

Mike: So how long do I wait to call?

Trent: A day.

Mike: Tomorrow.

Sue: Tomorrow, then a day.

Trent: Yeah.

Mike: So two days?

Trent: Yeah, I guess you could call it that, two days.

Sue: Definitely, two days is like industry standard.

Trent: You know I used to wait two days to call anybody, but now it's like everyone in town waits two days. So I think three days is kind of money. What do you think?

Sue: Yeah, but two's enough not to look anxious.

Trent: But I think three days is kind of money. You know because you...

Mike: Yeah, but you know what, mabey I'll wait 3 weeks. How's that? And tell her I was cleaning out my wallet and I just happened to run into her number.

Charles: Then ask her where you met her.

Mike: Yeah, I'll ask her where I met her. I don't remember. What does she look like? And then I'll asked if we fucked. Is that... would that be... T, would that be the money?

Trent: You know what. Ha ha ha Mike, laugh all you want but if you call too soon you might scare off a nice baby who's ready to party.

Mike: Well how long are you guys gonna wait to call your babies?

Trent, Sue{unison}: Six days.

----Swingers which is a Cake Eater Approved Movie.

Do you honestly think Alexander Graham Bell had any idea of what he was about to unleash upon the world when he told Mr. Watson to "Come here"? Do you think good ol' Alexander could have possibly imagined how much freakin' angst his invention would cause billions of people, wondering when the object of their heart's desire would actually manage to let their fingers do the walking? I can't think that he knew. He probably thought that, gee whiz, here's this nifty invention and the whole world will soon be able to communicate with it! Think of all the problems this will solve! Wow. Wars could be averted because people could communicate directly! All the evils of society could be at an end because people will actually be able to talk to one another! This is neato!

I have to think the man's up in heaven and is a bit disillusioned at how trivial his invention has become. It's probably the same for the guys who came up with the Internet and the World Wide Web: another fantastic communications tool and what do people do with it? They have cybersex.

But, as usual, I digress.

Now, Mike in Swingers had a bit of a dilemma on his hands: when to call his "beautiful baby" so that he didn't come off as either too needy and anxious or, conversely, appear to be disinterested. He was searching for the Goldilockian Solution (TM): the one that was just right.

Sadly, he turned to Trent and the boy named "Sue" for this solution, which was not only a mistake because they're idiots, but also because they shot for the male solution to most problems: if you can quantify it, you can solve it, as if finding the key to a woman's heart was an algebra problem. Unfortunately, there is just no quantifying when a man should call a woman. It's a roll of the dice: no matter what he does he could come off as badly as Mike did when he kept calling Nikki. (I still cringe whenever I see that scene.) Or he could come off as well as he did with Heather Graham's character. You never know.

But I suppose this is something you already knew, right? You're probably getting a wee bit grouchy that I'm not "demystifying" this particular issue for you. Well, ok. I haven't handed out my number in quite some time, but here were my rules for what was and wasn't acceptable. If, for some unknown reason, there is a chick out there who reminds you of me, well, here are your guidelines.

Ahem. {Insert Kath blowing the dust off this particularly ancient scroll here}

Kath's Rules of The Ring

1. The guy is the one who calls. Always. You will never, ever, never ever catch me asking a guy for his number. Not. Going. To. Happen. He should never expect me to call him untill a month after we've been seeing each other exclusively. I chalk this up to being somewhat "old fashioned." Other people might chalk it up to me being a big, fat chicken. Toss of the coin. Ahem. Bygones.

2. One day is enough time to have passed for moi since the original meeting/handing over of the phone number. And by this I mean twenty-four hours should have passed. Call before then and you're a goner.

I am, at this point, not expecting you to call at all. The handover of my number does not constitute any such agreement between the two of us. There is no contract in place. As such, I will be slightly disappointed if you don't call, but hey, I realize there is such a thing as beer goggles, and if I was on the receiving end of yours, well, I don't honestly want to know about it. Ahem. Bygones.

3. When/if you call, please learn how to converse. Nothing annoys quite as much as dead air. Neither should you eat while you're on the phone with me. Bleech.

4. After we have set up a time and place for a meeting, if, for some reason, things did not go well on our date, and you told me at the end of it that, "You'd call me" and yet did not call, realize I will not be pleased. It's pretty simple stuff: don't say you're going to call if you're not going to call. Don't think you're "being nice" by lying. Women do not, on the whole, appreciate fibbers. If you say you're going to do something, do it. If not, expect me to badmouth you to all of my particularly mouthy friends to the extent that you won't get any for quite some time. Actions do, indeed, have consequences, or didn't your mother teach you that?

Pretty simple stuff. The original handover means very little in the scheme of things: it's what you do afterwards that counts. Each and every woman does have a Goldilockian Solution to her: you're just going to have to deduce what you think will work and avoid what won't. It's the clever boy who wins the prize.

Now run along and see what the other Diabolical Demystifying Divas have to say about this topic, and while you're at it, you can also see what advice and consolation the Munificent yet Magnificent Men's Club has provided.

You should also note that our Daring Diva is scheduled for Divas Sez on Friday. Get your questions into the inbox---which you can find by clicking on the button on the right sidebar---by Thursday evening, by which time she should be done with finals and drunk enough that she'll come up with some seriously good answers.

January 10, 2008 ADDENDUM: Women! Seriously! Stop Googling for the answers to your problems!

You see, I have this thing called a "referral log" and I check it occasionally to see who's coming to this site and what they're reading whilst they're here. For some strange reason, an inordinate number of people Google into this site using the search phrase "Why Hasn't He Called?" Seriously. I get at least ten hits a day to this freakin' post, which I wrote two and a half years ago. I realize that life is a mystifying thing and that the urge to find the answers to it is overwhelming. But you need to realize that when you Google for said answers, well, you look like an idiot.

You're bright young things, I'm sure. You obviously know how to use a computer and a search engine. Most of you use correct spelling and punctuation in your queries, too. This tells me that you all have potential. So listen up: STOP WASTING YOUR TIME ON MEN WHO DON'T CALL YOU!

Furthermore, stop Googling for the answers to all your problems, ok? You look a bit desperate when you do this. I sit here and wonder if there's an epidemic of rude men, or if it's just a group of women who want answers---and who go looking for them. YOU SHOULD HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THAT SIT AROUND AND WAIT FOR SOME JERK WITH BAD MANNERS TO CALL YOU. Go out, get a degree and make more money than some man can make and take care of yourself. Don't take that kind of crap from ANY man. You're better than that. Go out and live up to your potential, for chrissakes. Life is extremely short. Don't waste your time on some random dude you met in a bar and to whom you gave your number. In fact, DON'T give out your number unless you're fairly certain the guy is a gentleman who will treat you right.

And, most of all, stop Googling in here wondering why he hasn't called.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:01 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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You wanna know why it's good to be poor?

Because if we had any extra money whatsoever, the husband would blow it on this.

Forget about buying a house. Forget about buying a new car. Forget about all of that. We'd be stuck with a friggin' X-Wing in the garage.

{Hat tip: Galley Slaves}

Posted by: Kathy at 12:17 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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...take this idiot out behind the barn and whupp his ass until he can't sit down for a week? Would that really be too much to ask?

According to StarWars.com, the saga's creator George Lucas told attendees at the fan convention Celebration III in Indianapolis Saturday that he is working on two "Star Wars"-related television projects after "Star Wars: Episode III -- Revenge of the Sith."

The first, "Clone Wars," actually exists as series of animated shorts on the Cartoon Network, but Lucas said it will be turned into a "3-D animated version full-series" 30 minutes in length.

But the surprise came with his announcement of a live-action spin-off series that will take place between movie Episodes III and IV.

At first, according to StarWars.com, Lucas said, "There's none of the main characters from I, II, and III" in the series, but stopped mid-sentence and said that "that's not exactly true now that I think about it." He concluded by saying it's hard to answer what will be in the show since it's a year away from going into production.

He added that a lot of issues from the films are connected, but you won't necessarily see a lot of the people that are connected," the site reported.{...}

The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles should be ringing a freakin' alarm bell right about now.

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Landing at Anzac Cove

Today is the 90th Anniversary of the Allied invasion of the Gallipoli Peninsula during WWI.

{...}The landings, which infamously saw waters on the coast stained red with the blood of dead soldiers, were intended to open a passage through the Dardanelles Straights separating Europe from Asia to provide a relief route to allied Russia via the Black Sea.

Instead the expedition ended in retreat and failure, after eight months of what Helen Clark, the New Zealand Prime Minister, today described as "hell".

Perhaps the most poignant illustration of the failure of the expedition is the fact that, with the allies forced to retreat from Gallipoli and unable to return until after the war, only 9,000 of the 22,000 Commonwealth soldiers who were buried lie in identified graves. The remains of more than 14,000 have never been found, their bones resting in the rugged terrain of Gallipoli.

Fierce resistance from the under-rated Ottoman forces, inhospitable terrain and bungled planning, spelt disaster for the campaign, which involved British, Irish, French, Indian, Canadian, Australian and New Zealand forces.

Among those who suffered the greatest losses were the Anzacs, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, who made the first landings, swept by an unexpected current to a narrow cove rather than the wide beaches the planners intended. The campaign is seen as a defining moment in the move towards nationhood in both countries, and April 25 is marked as Anzac Day in both countries.

The campaign, centred on territory close to the site of the ancient city of Troy, was one of the biggest maritime invasion attempts ever staged. Unlike the recent D-Day commemorations there were no surviving veterans of the campaign at todayÂ’s international gatherings.{...}

For more information on Gallipoli, go here. Make sure to pay attention to the numbers of wounded and dead.

{Photos Courtesy of The Anzac Photo Gallery}

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Susan Estrich has petitioned the Vatican to do away with that ruffian Benedict XVI and appoint a female pope instead.

Thank God. That dumb wench's taking the heat off me! WooT!

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The backstory and previous adventures of my beer can be found here and here.

I'm late in posting this, but my beer has been making the rounds again, and made it to the Spring Game in Ames last weekend.

Russ reports:

Oh yeah, and "your beer" enjoyed the game. "She" got to pose with the Jack Trice statue outside the stadium. I was going to set her in his hand, but Jeez, that would be freakin' sacreligious.

Jack Trice, God Rest His Soul, was the first African-American football player at Iowa State University, and the first athlete ever to die for Iowa State. His is an exceedingly sad tale, which is why there are statues of him, not only at the football stadium that is named after him, but on campus as well. If I'm remembering the story correctly, nothing ever happened to the three Minnesota players who trampled him. They couldn't say for sure that it was intentional. (Pah!) I agree with Russ that it would have been sacreligious for my beer to have whined about not being placed into Jack's hand. My beer knows better than that.

It seems my beer is trying to make amends for hanging out with Hawkeyes and for her floozy-ish behavior in KC. One can only hope she learned her lessons after hanging out with a legend.

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So, the "interactive entertainment publishing rights" to Peanuts have been sold to Namco, a company which puts out games like Tekken and Soul Caliber. Not like I have any freakin' idea of what those games are, but I'm sure a few of you geeks will know.

Woody, over at GU Comics, was creative in his interpretation of the news. I thought it was humorous, so I thought I'd pass it along.

The phrase "good grief" has never been more loaded.

UPDATE: Man, I am such a loser. The appropriate commentary for this post should have been....

...Just go ahead and try to take the football away from me now, beeeeeyotch!

Why I didn't think of that last night, I have no idea.

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No, you get your chocolate out of my peanut butter!

The Cake Eater Chronicles: Where inbreeding with the Llamas is---apparently---just around the corner!

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If you've got the urge, go over and check out Andy at the World Wide Rant.

I've recently become a big fan of his. While I don't always agree with the things he writes or how he writes them, it's very refreshing to read a blogger who, unlike myself, takes no prisoners.

At times he can be about as abrasive as steel wool would be to your private parts, but he cleverly wraps this abrasiveness up in an impressive wit, so you really don't mind the stinging sensation all that much. I would highly recommend you go over and check him out.

Love him or hate him, you won't be bored.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:27 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 How could someone not agree with everything I write? It's simply impossible! Seriously, glad you like it and thanks for the blog-promo! Now, I must go figure out some other ways to be offensive to people with whom I disagree.

Posted by: andy at April 23, 2005 03:15 PM (jcIUB)

2 It's my pleasure

Posted by: Kathy at April 23, 2005 05:12 PM (RFVZA)

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Chrissy's daughter, Wee One, is my kind of girl.

It's probably just as well, Chrissy, that you never got past explaining the object of the game. I simply cannot imagine the pain of having to explain how a knight moves to a small child. Oy. The husband about blew a gasket when he had to explain the knights' movement to me, and that was when I was an adult. Don't tell anyone but they're still my glaring blindspot whenever I play. I just can't think as many steps ahead with the knights as I do with the other pieces. Everything else, I can pretty much suss out eight, nine, ten steps ahead. The knights, however? Well, sigh. They continue to baffle me.

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Yep. It's that time. I got hit by the Daring Diva with a meme. She has charged me with the vital mission of "going forth and creating havoc." I doff my floppy, feathered hat in her direction and proclaim, while bowing before her greatness, that I shall humbly try do my best. (And no, I'm not going to freakin' curtsey. Bleh. The General Rule states you do not get to wear floppy, feathered hats if you're a chick. So, I'd probably pull a Twelfth Night sort of deal so I could wear the floppy feathered hat. But I'm pretty sure I'd skip the whole mistaken romance thing. Bleh. Who needs that?)

If I could be a scientist... I would try and cure all the bastard diseases out there. These are also called "orphan" diseases. That would be the more politically correct way of stating it, although I think "bastard disease" is more accurate because they treated like bastard children used to be treated...poorly. They don't affect enough people for it to be worth it, monetarily speaking, for pharmaceutical companies/research universities to devote time and resources for finding a cure. I'd particularly would like to cure this one so that my wee niece Maggie doesn't have to deal with people staring at her and then saying, loudly, "Good God! What is wrong with that kid? She has spots!"

People are so fucking cruel sometimes. And I'm not talking about kids here, I'm talking about stupid grownups who don't have the good sense to shut their pie holes, and who point and stare, treating her like she's a freak show, and then complete the cycle of their idiocy by asking my sister the most inane questions in the world, instead of looking past her skin and treating Maggie like she was the coolest little girl in the world. Which she is, by the way. If you think that in this country we're past judging someone by their skin, you're really, really wrong.

/angry

If I could be a musician...I'd try to weasel my way into any number of bands, the first and foremost of which would be The Foo Fighters, because I have to think that Dave Grohl is fun to hang with.

If I could be a painter...I'd be high all the time because I'd be huffing the paint thinner. I'd have to think the art I'd create under such circumstances would be critically acclaimed, even though I probably don't have an ounce of artistic talent in me. The critics smile on paint-thinner huffers.

If I could be a chef... I'd stage a coup at The French Laundry. I would take over, claiming that I was just taking back what was mine. That Thomas Keller had, indeed, stolen all my recipes and was making a fortune off of them, so I was just doing what needed to be done. Then I'd continue running the place just like he does.

If I could be a linguist... I'd finally be able to be as rude as some people have been to me and would be able to say nasty things about other people without said people cottoning onto the fact that, indeed, I'm saying nasty things about them. Right in front of them. Because they're clueless.

If I could be a bonnie pirate...I'd sail the seven seas, in search of adventure. I'd enjoy whipping out my cutlass, ramming ships, stealing loot, and talking like a pirate. "ARRRRRRGGGGHHHH! Swab the decks, ye scurrilous scabbies!" See? That would be fun.

If I could be a psychologist... I'd tell people to look beyond their childhood for the source of all their problems. I'd also tell people to give their kids a firm whack on the behind when they've earned it, because it's not going to scar their wee ones for life.

Ok, that's enough havoc wreaking for one day.

Time to pass on the meme, so here's how it works. Following there is a list of different occupations. You must select at least five of them. You may add more if you like to your list before you pass it on (after you select five of the items as it was passed to you). Of the five you selected, you are to finish each phrase with what you would do as a member of that profession. Then pass it on to three fine bloggers.

Here's that list:
If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a backup dancer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be a midget stripper...
If I could be a proctologist...

Three bloggers to pass this on to. Hmmmm. Who shall I pick?

Ok. I'm going to tag Sheila, The Puffster, and Jonathan, because I don't think he's ever participated in a meme before and it's high time that he did.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:41 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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And I quote:

"What I want is the full filibuster treatment: the whole Mr. Smith Goes to Washington kit and caboodle treatment."

I would have to agree with her on this one. I think it's wrong, wrong, wrong to mess with procedural rules that were put in place for a reason. As someone who is a big fan of the more arcane portions of procedural rules and who adores Robert's Rules of Order I have to applaud Frist for being very clever in attempting to work his way around the procedural rules, and for actually doing something about getting these nominees confirmed. Yet, it's nonetheless a violation of democracy. The filibuster is there for a reason. Just because you don't have the votes to overcome it doesn't mean you should get rid of it because it's more expedient that having to, you know, actually convince people to come over to your side of the argument.

Besides, when was the last time anyone actually filibustered a bill? I honestly can't remember. But, to my mind, it's always the threat of the filibuster that stops legislation dead in its tracks. If you don't have the votes to break a threatened filibuster, well, that's the end of that, and no one actually has to stand out there on the senate floor and talk until they drop. Call their bluff: make the Democrats follow through. I, like Fausta, would love to see it. The bit about Teddy Kennedy being bloated---read hungover---on the senate floor at three a.m. sounds like something I'd want to watch.

But Frist doesn't want to do that. He wants to shoot past it entirely, and he's dragging the Vice President into the fray. It behooves me to mention that he shouldn't act surprised and outraged when this comes back to bite him on the behind. Because it will. If you don't think the next time the Democrats are in power and won't attempt the same sort of stunt, you're nuts. In fact, I'm sure more than a few of them are sitting in their offices saying to themselves, "Gee, I wish we would have thought of that."

I didn't vote Republican so that we could gain control of the senate and weasel past rules that have been in place for hundreds of years. Frist, ultimately, is trying to make a small majority worth more than it actually is. That I can understand why he's doing it and sympathize with his frustrations nonetheless doesn't make it right.

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I'm assuming your local news station did a "I'm FREAKING OUT ABOUT THIS" story tonight like mine did. You know, the one where the five-year-old got arrested for throwing a temper tantrum.

Well, if you're interested, there's a whole lot more video than what they showed on the news.

To watch the respective videos first go here for the classroom video and here for the office video.

That's what people call a temper tantrum these days? That is not a temper tantrum. That is what is called willful behavior. There's a difference. The word "tantrum" implies that there is no way the kid is coming out of it; that the child is uncontrollable/inconsolable/dangerous to themselves and others. I've seen and dealt with many kids who were in a full-blown tantrum. This kid was not in a tantrum. A tantrum involves incessant screaming, crying, kicking, more screaming, biting, hitting, more kicking, more screaming, more hitting. They are in the throes of an epically proportioned meltdown.

This child was controllable. Every time it seemed like she was being ignored, the child acted up. She pulled things off the wall when she realized someone would be upset if she did. She deliberately climbed up on that table after being told not to. Why? Because she was told not to. She was simply being willful. She thought she could win, and she proved it by doing it even though she was rebuffed once. The Vice Principal and teacher just did not have the means to control her. Why? They couldn't touch her for fear of a lawsuit. You'll notice the only time the Vice Principal touched her was when the little girl was in danger of harming herself. As Robbo points out, seither did the Vice Principal inject a little force into the tone she employed. Apparently, they're not even allowed to threaten the little buggers with adverse consequences.

Given that the school's staff was completely hamstrung by regulations, I can't blame those teachers for calling the campus cops. While one wonders why they have cops at the campus of an Elementary School, they were nonetheless the proper people to call. Unfortunately, they're being sued right now because they placed the girl in cuffs, which is a measure police generally use to subdue criminals, but is also a protective measure meant to ensure the officers aren't harmed. I don't honestly think they had any other choice, given that the girl had been kicking and screaming. You'll note how quickly she sat down and started behaving herself when she learned policemen were on the way. You'll also note that the police officer asked her if she remembered him and did she remember that he'd told her mother that the next time he'd put her in cuffs?

Why would a five-year-old be chummy with a police officer? Why would that threat be the only one this little girl would listen to? Makes a person wonder about that child's home life, doesn't it?

It seems as if the policeman was the only person who was willing to put his money where his mouth was about actions and consequences. His department doesn't deserve to be sued because he was doing his job. One can only hope this makes her straighten up and fly right. I don't think it will, considering her mother is suing the cops, and she's bound to learn the wrong lesson from that action, but one can hope.

{Hat Tip: Robbo and Wizbang}

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Random Pensees' post on the demise of the Rover car company (replete with pretty pictures) reminded me of a thought I was going to share with you all the other day, but forgot about.

Earlier this week, I was walking home from the store when a beautiful late-50's, butter yellow, MG convertible whipped around the corner and took off down the street right in front of me. This thing was mint. Everything shone and gleamed and looked as it should look. A gorgeous car. Someone should consider themselves really fortunate to own such a beautiful vehicle on a gorgeous day, when they would be able to enjoy it to the fullest because it was a convertible. Well, guess who that special someone was, that lucky soul who was driving that gorgeous car?

Behind the wheel was a redheaded, sixteen-year-old, well-dressed brat who was undoubtedly skipping school as it was ten in the morning.

That would be when I started turning green with envy. It's completely possible that some stupid parent here in the fair fiefdom of Cake Eater Land, where there's more money than sense, had given their kid this car as a present. It's also completely possible that this kid had ripped it off from his parents' garage and was pulling a Ferris Bueller.

Either way, I hate them. I hate them. I hate them. A pox on their house.

Gosh, I really miss driving. I really miss Miss Marie, too.

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...in my duties as the blog hostess with the mostest if I didn't send you over to Rob's place.

Where he's heckling the Llamas with graphic storytelling.

Heh.

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Silk has the answers to all your important questions.

Sadie is up for next week. Get your questions in so our Daring Diva may enlighten you. Clicket on baby got back girl on the right and ask away!

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I can't believe I'm writing this, but God Bless E.J. Dionne!

"I worry that Pope Benedict sees liberal Catholics primarily as products of the worst excesses of the '60s and not as people who are genuinely grateful for the Catholic tradition and the Church's efforts since Pope John to interpret it anew for our times. Many of us know that modernity urgently needs criticism and agree with the new Pope on the importance of asserting that truth exists. We remain Catholic precisely because we think that the Church's emphasis on the sacramental and the communal provides a corrective to a culture that overemphasizes the material and lifts up the narrowest forms of individualism.

But we also think that not all that is new is bad. Our Church was soft on slavery. It was terribly slow to embrace democracy. It still does not seem to understand that the desire of women for power in the Church reflects legitimate--and, yes, Christian--claims to justice, not weird ideological enthusiasms. Those who say that change in the Church is simply capitulation to a flawed culture must explain whether they really think the Church would be better off if it had not come to oppose slavery, endorse democracy, and resist anti-Semitism and other forms of religious intolerance."

Yep. Yep. And more Yeps until I can't say "Yep" any longer because I've lost my voice.

I wish I could read the entire article, but as I have no subscription to The New Republic, I cannot. (If anyone out there would like to share for this one special occasion, send me an email.) Of course, I'm sure that more than a few of you will automatically dismiss Dionne's words because they're found on Sully's site. Because he's been caterwauling over the past couple of days about how betrayed he feels at the election of Pope Benedict and you find said caterwauling either a. funny b. pathetic or c. heretical. But please do realize that for every conservative who's lauded the election of Pope Benedict, that there are a few of us conservatives out here who aren't so pleased. Sully is our lightning rod, for better or worse, and he's been taking the hits for us. Well, no longer. No matter what excuse you find to dismiss his writings over the past few days, you should know there are a few of us who---gasp!---actually agree with what he's written. We've just been keeping quiet because we don't feel like being called heretics or apostates. Neither do we want to be accused of not really being conservatives because, as the conventional wisdom of the blogosphere has been proclaiming over the past couple of days, if this pope doesn't do it for you, well, you must be a liberal. He's pissing off all the right people, he must be great!

Well, pardon my French, but fuck off.

I have really had it over the past couple of days with what's been spewed from Catholics and non-Catholics alike. Take it or leave it. What'd you expect? An Episcopalian Pope? You disagree with the Pope? How dare you! You're obviously not for doctrinal truth but instead are guilty of egotism! You're a moral relativist! You think you know better than the Church! You heretic! Your conscience is nothing compared to the Church Approved Truth (TM). We don't want your kind here! I can access the Vatican website, I've read the documents. Furthermore, since I can cut and paste from these documents to suit my arguments, I'm now a theologian of the first order. I am more than justified in lecturing you on the requirements of the Faith and I say you're not worthy! And so on and so forth. I have never felt so personally attacked even though the attacks weren't directed at me personally. These attacks were directed at "my kind," as if to suggest that since Pope Benedict wasn't what I had hoped and prayed for as the leader of my church, I am suddenly in league with the kind of Catholic who advocates a carefully orchestrated attack on St. Peter's Basilica to rip all the art off the walls because the proceeds could be better used to feed the poor. I'm in league with those who believe that Liberation Theology really, honestly and truly, is the way to go. I'm in league with those who believe the Church should approve on-demand abortion and euthanasia.

To put it bluntly, you people should get bent.

Would you like to know the main reason I wish we had a different pope? There are many things I would like to see changed within the Church, but I know won't happen. That's fine for me. Those are issues that should be raised every now and again, because that's what should happen. Thought is a good thing, otherwise God would have made us sheep. But there is one issue that I believe must be changed immediately. It believe a change in this bit of doctrine is crucial for the survival of the Church. My problem with Pope Benny is that he has already written and declared that this one issue will not be addressed during his papacy. He believes that the Church should never address it. This one issue that Pope Benny and I disagree about is the role of women in the Church. And it's not a personal issue for me in that I want female priests because sexual equality is the standard of western society. I want women to be priests so that people are not dependent upon the availablity of a man to receive the sacraments.

Did you get that? This isn't about me being an "egotist." This isn't about my being "morally relativist." This is about the much ballyhooed shortage of priests that still---ahem---exists even if we do have a new pope. This is about the practical ramifications of this shortage of priests.

To explain, I went to a Catholic all-girls high school. This high school was run by the order of the Servants of Mary. We had a convent attached to said high school, and by the time I attended the school, the convent was not a thriving place, but rather a nursing home for aged nuns. Most of these nuns were, obviously, pre-Vatican II nuns and they were cared for, mostly, by younger nuns and a small nursing staff of one person. These older nuns felt the need to take the sacraments daily. For that to happen, you needed a priest who was willing to drive to the convent to deliver them.

Normally, this wasn't a problem. There was a small cadre of priests who came to the convent regularly, but when one dropped out, and another could not take their place it was a daunting task to find a priest who could come to the convent to say mass. Or listen to confessions. Or, in a few rare cases, deliver the Annointing of the Sick. All of these sacraments must be delivered by priests, and if there are none to be found because they're all off on retreat, or at a conference, or they have other duties to attend to, who suffers then, I ask you people who are so interested in banging the sacramental drum? Why, it's the nuns. In this example, they're the ones who were consistenly asked to take one for the Catholic team.

Ever seen a nun panic because she's called every priest she knows and no one's available to come out to the convent to say mass? I have. It's not a pretty thing. Nuns are supposed to be steady, stable creatures. When a nun freaks out, well, let's just say that it's shocking. This particular nun knew how important it was to the older nuns to be able to take the sacraments daily. She knew how crucial they felt the sacraments were to their faith. And she was going to have to let these women down because there was nothing she could do about it. There were no priests to be found. Nor could she deliver them. She was a nun. A priest was needed. It didn't matter that she'd taken the same vows of poverty, chastity and obedience when she devoted herself to the Church. It didn't matter that she was an Ecumenical Minister of the Eucharist and could deliver the Body and Blood of Christ during Mass. She didn't have a penis, hence she couldn't deliver the sacraments to women who so desperately wanted and needed them.

The "doctrinal truth" of the priesthood only being reserved for men doesn't really cut it in this situation, does it?

But there are plenty who say it would be "radical" to have women priests. That this violates a tradition that was established by Christ himself when he "chose" male apostles. Never mind that Mary and Mary Magdalene were just as devoted to Him as the apostles were. It's not relevant to the discussion. Surprisingly enough, though, despite their sexual defects, they were there, on the day he was crucified, walking up to Golgotha with him, weeping at the foot of the cross, never once abandoning Him as He suffered through a slow and painful death. These women didn't run and hide and deny their Savior like the Apostles did because they weren't too chickenshit to admit they knew, loved, and followed The Man. But they don't count. Never mind that they were the ones who found someone to bury their Lord and Savior to follow the demands of their faith when all the apostles were hiding. They don't count. Never mind that they were the ones who found the tomb was empty three days after Jesus' crucifixion, something the apostles were too chicken to do. It's completely coincidental that they were the finders of this fact because they were just there to pray. They don't count. Women didn't count.

And they still don't count. All Catholic women---lay or clerical---are to follow the lessons of the Virgin. We're supposed to submit, like she did, to the demands of our faith, because we're the better sex. We give life. We're more compassionate. We keep the men from killing one another. And even if you're a nun and aren't allowed to give life, you're supposed to model your life after the Virgin anyway, because you have the same biology that she did; you're just modeling your life after different qualities she possessed. This shared biology makes a nun capable of serving our Lord, but not capable enough to deliver sacraments and preach the Gospels. For that you have to be a man.

Now, think of all the priests you've ever known. I'm sure some were fantastic. Ive known a few of those, too. Some, however, probably were really bad at their jobs. I've known boozer priests, one of whom once took my confession on a Saturday afternoon and breathed liquor fumes on me from the other side of the screen. I knew a priest once who, in direct contradiction to his vow of poverty, drove a Jaguar and had a marked taste for the finer things in life. He married one of my brothers and when offered a glass of wine or a beer at this brother's rehearsal dinner, snorted loudly and condescendingly at the choices presented and then chewed me out for not having any scotch on hand, wondering aloud if my parents were just being cheap or if they honestly didn't know that's what he drank. I've known priests who weren't exactly comfortable delivering a homily, so they skipped it altogether. I've known priests who let their deacon do all the heavy lifting at mass. I've known priests who had no issues betting on Notre Dame games, or who cut mass short because they wanted to watch a football game. The priest who married the husband and myself is one of the most gossipy creatures God ever created, and still, even though I haven't seen him in going on ten years, talks about me behind my back, and has no hesitations about asking my family if we're divorced...yet. But, you say, priests are human. They're allowed their faults. Well, ok. I'll buy that. But, how, exactly, with all these flaws in mind, are they more qualified to preach the Gospels and to deliver the sacraments than a woman?

Why is that, exactly?

Give me one good reason why priests should always and forever be male, knowing full well that I will not accept Church Dogma or the reason "that it's always been this way," as a good reason. The Church has no issues moving away from dogmatic teachings and you all know it. Mass only used to be said in Latin. The Church moved away from that. The Church actively advocated anti-Semitism. The Church moved away from that. The Church used to think slavery was fine and dandy. The Church moved away from that. The Church used to sell plenary indulgences, guaranteeing that if you donated a large sum of money to the Church, you could buy your way out of hell. The Church moved away from that. The Church used to preach that a mother's life was expendable, whereas the life of her child was not. The Church moved away from that. The Church used to wage wars in the name of Christianity and the defense of the Papal States. Now the Church believes there are very few moral wars. The Church found the excuses for these moves in Church Dogma. The same dogma that tells us we cannot have women priests.

Please realize that the Church can do anything it wants to do and it can find an excuse in two thousand years worth of teachings to justify their actions. "Doctrinal Truth" is subjective, in other words. Hence, dogma as the only reason you can hand forth justifying that women cannot be priests isn't going to cut it for me. It's just not. Times have changed. It does not mean the world is going to end or that the Church will end if they decide to allow women to become priests. It simply means that the world has changed and that the Church has recognized that fact. Women priests could, conceivably, solve a lot of practical, everyday problems within the Church, the first and foremost being that they would be allowed to deliver the sacraments to people who wanted to receive them. How that could be seen as a bad thing, I don't know, but I'm sure somebody is just dying to tell me.

Posted by: Kathy at 05:30 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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...my name is Suzy Homemaker. You fucked up my coiffure. Prepare to die.

Posted by: Kathy at 06:26 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Dude, I do not even want to know.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:41 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner are reportedly engaged.

God help us all.

We all know from watching Alias that Jennifer could probably do a four-minute mile if she pushed it. I would highly recommend running. That boy has serious issues.

In other Alias related news: I simply cannot believe that they're going to kill off Jack. I want to weep in my beer. I adore Daddy Bristow. Daddy Bristow is sexy as all hell (even though it appears Daddy Bristow is gay in real life.). He's one of the major reasons why I watch Alias. I don't want him to die! Waaaaaaah. Jack's like a sexy Henry Kissinger who not only knows about balance of power intimately---and could write you a thesis on it---but also knows how to throw a mean karate chop if needs be. Could you ask for more? I don't think so.

And for those of you who might think I'm a wee bit obsessive about this, just know that the husband has been rooting for Mommy to come back for quite some time and still holds out hope that Jack didn't actually do the dreaded deed and that's she's alive somewhere. Even if Sydney did see the body and buried her. This is Alias we're talking about, here, kids. Anything's possible.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:38 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 Did they kill Jack last night? We haven't seen much of Alias this season, as a result of the new night/time. We aren't big on recording and watching TV later, either. The show kind of jumped the shark once Sydney and Michael did it, and even moreso once Syd joined the CIA. And while the actress who plays Irina Derevko may be 12 years older than me, I always thought she had it going on. I, too, have doubted that she's actually gone. By all means, bring her back.

Posted by: JohnL at April 21, 2005 03:46 PM (YVul2)

2 I can't bring you entirely up to date, but the short story is that two weeks ago, Sydney, Vaughn and Daddy were sent to a nuclear plant in remotest Siberia to recover a transformer coil that a mad scientist was using to mutate human DNA radically. One of the test subjects "melted" in about three minutes. Sydney was in the room, trying to get the coil, but a snafu occurred and the reactor turned on at the same time. To save her from being melted, Jack went into the reactor to shut it down and was exposed to a huge amount of radiation. They've been working their way up to it, but it looks as if Daddy's going to buy the farm. Sigh. Unless they have an Alias twist up their sleeve, which is conceivable.

Posted by: Kathy at April 21, 2005 04:52 PM (RFVZA)

3 hmmmmm. Maybe the CIA will stuff his corpse in a photon torpedo tube and launch it into the newly created Genesis Planet. Someone will have to store his consciousness until the Genesis Daddy reaches full maturity, but other than that, I don't see any serious credibility problems. Oh, and Ben? With the death spiral his career is traveling down, that pretty boy is MAYBE two flicks away from performing in gay porn. How 'ya like THEM apples, Bennie?

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at April 21, 2005 09:10 PM (6krEN)

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