Blogic 2

Jan 19, 2010 | Latest

BLOGIC 2

  With the reminders of the 37^th Anniversary and the March for Life coming up this Friday, I was in a bit of a somber mood and thinking that I would need to write something somber.  Then I thought of Todd Summers’ (’87) pro-life speech his senior year.  It was a great speech which, if I remember correctly, he outlined how much there was to do for pro-lifers.  I think he used a line from a John Wayne movie in it.  For sure it was clever, logical with some humor and well-delivered.  It ended something like this:  Saddle up cowboys, we have a long way to go.  It was clearly the best speech at the district contest which involved a number of schools.  I was stunned when he didn’t win.  There were three judges, two of them had Todd’s as the winning speech.  The third judge was the previous year’s winner, and he had Todd’s speech dead last because, he said, there was no place for humor in a speech about abortion.  Let’s not critique the critique. 

   One of the most frustrating things we face in the pro-life cause is that we meet head on with seemingly intelligent people who have no concern for logic in their arguments.  They embody what Pope Benedict has labeled as the “dictatorship of relativism”.    I indirectly heard recently from three different people who have met with this dictatorship at college. 

   Carter Stevens is taking a college logic class.  The teacher said that they would be doing debates and wanted topics.  Carter suggested they debate the nature of truth.  The teacher said that she didn’t like that word “truth”.  Her substitution:  mutual agreement.

   Gage Arnold found he needed to name a new fallacy after a short time at college.  He called it “Negating the Question”.  People would answer a question such as “Why are you reading Marx?” with “Why not read Marx?”   

   A third person texted home after a college class with this description of what he had just endured – “Fallacy Festival”. 

   We must always know that it is truth, not mutual agreement, that we stand for; we must always be ready with clear answers when asked, in whatever form, why we are pro-life;  and we need to be able to identify the errors in the arguments that we hear so often because they certainly are fallacy festivals. 

    It’s easy to forget the names of fallacies that we have learned.  We know an argument is bad, but we can’t always name the fallacy.  A couple years ago Mrs. O’Herron sent me a birthday card and asked me to analyze it for fallacies.  I never got around to sending her the analysis, so here it is now.

   The card had two dogs talking to each other with the moon in the background.  The one dog was saying to the other “I do not know why, but if you howl at it all night it goes away by morning.”

   Clearly this is a funny card, but its full humor can only be appreciated by someone who has studied logic.  The non-logician would simply say something like, “Ha, ha, pretty dumb dogs.”  Unless, of course he was a member of PETA, then he might say, “What precious, thoughtful co-sharers of our planet.  If only we could understand their deep thoughts and intentions.”

   Now for the analysis.

   The humor in this card involves three fallacies.  It is rooted in the main fallacy of a category mistake.  We know that dogs cannot talk and reason, even poorly because they are non-rational, not irrational, non-rational.  So we first chuckle a little realizing the absurdity of dogs discussing the appearance and disappearance of the moon.

   But we now allow ourselves to consider the dogs as rational and look at their thought process.  We see that the reasoning of the “wiser” dog is based on induction, but that he has done a poor job of it.  He repeatedly howls at the moon at night and each time experiences the disappearance of the moon.  He concludes that it is his howling that has been the cause of its disappearance.  This is a clear example of the post hoc ergo propter hoc – after this, therefore because of this.  Detecting this fallacy prompts great laughter.

   The third fallacy is the specific induction error that has led to the post hoc fallacy.  This canine has not done his induction well.  He has, we assume, many times howled at the moon, therefore, there is no problem with the # of examples he is considering – he has not committed the induction fallacy of hasty generalization.  But look at the examples he has considered.  Every one of them is of the same type.  He has invariably howled at the moon when it appeared and continued howling until it disappeared.  If he had decided some nights not to howl at the moon and then had seen that it still disappeared, he would have realized that his howling was not the cause.  Thus, we can accuse the dog of selected instances – taking a non-representative sample to reach a conclusion.  By the time we recognize this fallacy we are howling with laughter. 

   It is clear that a little logic greatly increases our sense of humor.

   Pretty dumb dogs, huh?

Note:  Todd graduated the year of the big March for Life Blizzard when 20 inches fell in DC.  The busses didn’t run that year, but Mr. Purdy bravely drove a small band to the March:  Helen Purdy (’88) and Sharon Lloyd (’88), Mr. and Mrs. Scheetz and their two month old Annie (’05), Dr. and Mrs. Carroll, Dr. Antus and me.  The Vander Woudes drove their van and they had Kim Fejes (’87) with them.  There might have been others who made it, but those are the ones Mrs. Carroll remembers. 

EVENING CAME….

Jan 9, 2010 | Latest

Evening Came and Morning Followed, the Second Day

   The angel choirs had returned to the highest heavens; the shepherds had returned to guard their flocks by day.  The fanfare of the first Noel had ended, and now Mary and Joseph had hard realities to consider.  They were a displaced family far from their home in Nazareth and it was not practical to return home immediately; their current lodging was a stable; there were surely monetary and employment considerations made more dismal by the littleness  of Bethlehem; even the political landscape presented problems:  the Roman authorities edict had brought them to Bethlehem in the first place and here Herod wielded a scepter that he was soon to unleash on infant boys of the district.  Mary and Joseph’s  Child was God, Savior and King, but these marvelous truths did not mean that the world’s troubles were not part of the Divine Plan for the Holy Family.

   For us, for a day or so, Christmas seems to melt away our concerns.  Good presents, good wishes, good food, good music good friends & family and good liturgies can make us forget problems for a moment.   Then evening comes and morning follows, and we may be given cause to wonder if His coming has really changed things.  If nothing else, we know of Herods and Grinches, some of our own construction, lurking to steal away the glad tidings of great joy from us.

   The glorious tidings came this year for me amidst the strangest set of circumstances of any Yuletide of my life.  Here’s what happened.

   It all began one day when a rabbit or a group of rabbits (a herd?) decided that our car was better fodder than the acres of edible stuff that surrounded it.  Peter Cottontail & friends hopped down the bunny trail and began gnawing away at the spark plug wires on the car.  Each morning and evening I would see three cottontails around the car.  I did not realize that I should have been fearing them.  Watching Bugs Bunny as a kid had led me to believe that carrots were food of choice for rabbits, but now I know that the soy that is used in the spark plug wires’ casing is their preferred winter dining.  My sympathies are completely with Elmer Fudd now.   Chewed wires can disable a car and did ours this Advent.

   Then Mom settled down for a long winter’s nap and really went overboard.  I could not wake her up, so I called the ambulance, and we were off to the hospital.  Thirty-six hours after dozing off, she awoke in the hospital room as if everything was perfectly normal.  This deep sleep and trip to the hospital was repeated 10 days later on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception.  One of the many doctors we saw during this time suggested that the best thing for Mom would be to take her home where she would be more comfortable.  I said that she needed to be able to get some food and water into her.  He said that if the goal was to keep her alive then an IV would have to be started and she would have to be in the hospital.  This did seem better than taking her home to starve and dehydrate.  After the second stay, we moved in with John and Wendy (brother-in-law and sister) and their five boys.  The convenience of this is that they live a block from the hospital, just in case we needed it again.   Otherwise it was not convenient for them, especially for son Phillip whose room we occupied.  Mom and I became a displaced family though the Whittum’s home is much nicer than a stable.

   We were still at the Whittums during the Octave of Christmas when we found out that our accumulated mail, about a week’s worth, had been stolen out of our mailbox.  I understand this was a common sort of theft this Christmas – the thieves were hoping to find gift cards and treats and whatever might be of use to them in a Christmas greeting.  I wonder if they were merry gentlemen with what they got from our box. 

   The Child has come, but we all have our troubles great and small.  What difference does His coming make?  Blessed Mother shows us.  Jesus’ coming is not a short-lived instance.  It is not a fanfare event.  It is a quiet coming into the heart where we can ponder and treasure Who He is and be always recollected in that grace.  Peace on Earth doesn’t do away with the warfare in Iraq or Afghanistan, but it does give us the peace that an Army chaplain said is realized in placing ourselves in the center of God’s Will.  We fail Christmas in letting difficulties great and small overwhelm that tranquility that should be present within us knowing that the Will of God, His Love, is to be found among them if we will ponder and treasure that Love in our hearts.

   Mom teaches this every day.  If she relied on things or people of this world for her happiness, she would be primarily dependent upon me.  That would be depressing.  Walking, talking, eating, drinking, bathing (but not sleeping!) are all difficult or impossible for her to do on her own.  Yet she is happy – ready to clap or smile or laugh or sing throughout the day.   Troubles – they don’t seem to exist for Mom.

   How did the events within the Will of God during Advent/Christmas turn out for us? 

   The Rabbit-Eaten Car.  John Whittum went out to the farm on a freezing night after getting home from work about midnight and put in the spark plug wires which nephew Brent had purchased.  So eaten were the wires that he couldn’t tell the firing order, but he was able to get it off the internet on his cell phone and successfully got the car going.  Phillip went out to the farm and shot some rabbits.  (This was good practice for his elk hunting trip a few days later.  He, of 16 years of age, got his first elk near Craig, Coloraodo.)

    Mom’s Sleeping.  All the tests, including an EEG, showed no reason for her deep sleep.  The doctors said she seems to be in exceptionally good health.  But greater than the good news on her physical condition was the great graces bestowed on her through the Divine Physician’s instruments, his good priests.  The first night in the emergency room came Father Bermudez who had just finished saying the 5:30 evening Mass after having flown back from visiting his home in Puebla, Mexico.  He anointed Mom and gave us Holy Communion.  The next evening, a Sunday, Father Thuerauf came again with Holy Communion.  Tuesday of that same week, Father Chiapa came to our home to anoint Mom and give us Holy Communion.  This was the first time in my lifetime that a priest had come into our home and the first time anyone in the family can remember that our Lord had come into the house.  On the second hospital trip Father Thuerauf came to the ER and anointed Mom.  Father Chiapa came the next day to the hospital  and gave us Holy Communion.  This is the Year of the Priest, and for sure I have never been more grateful for the priesthood and the powers that have been given to priests and for these three tremendous priests that in no way would let Mom be left starving for Our Lord. 

   The Stolen Mail.  While Mom and I were still at John and Wendy’s, my brother Jim went out to the farm to check on things and while there a call came from the post office that some of our mail had been found 10 miles from our house, on a back road west of Wiggins.  The person who found it was a high school classmate of my brother John.  All the mail had been opened, but the items had been put back in the envelopes and left in a pile.  This included three Christmas cards all from Virginia:  one from the Whittums (John’s parents), and two from Nokesville:  one from Steve and Erin Vander  Woude and one from Bob and Bea Pennefather.  Who would have thought those Christmas cards would have had such an adventure in getting to us.  There is at least one thing that the thieves made away with:  brother Dave in Reno had sent us some Christmas cookies that he had ordered.  This is a tremendous loss to be sure, but we are glad that the mailbox looters left what we presume to be most of the mail where it could be found and redelivered and without any residue of cookie crumbs to be found.

   There is much more to be told about this Christmas and the goodness and generosity that were shown to Mom and me, but it is too much for me to talk about now. Adequate gratitude is impossible to express, but the overwhelming charity we have experienced, which is an expression of God’s love in others, is something to be pondered and treasured.  And it is certainly something that prompts daily prayer of thanksgiving and of petition that God will bless and reward the generous. 

   Mom and I returned home, evening came and morning followed – a bitterly cold, windy, snowy morning.  The night brought -13 degree temperatures and a frozen water pipe to the kitchen sink.  I see rabbits, three of them, hopping around the car this afternoon.  But Mom’s awake and our mail, which is being held at the post office now, will be brought to us some day.   Ponder and treasure, and be at peace.  So easy, right?  Hey, I just checked and the water is flowing in the kitchen sink again.  Troubles do just melt away.  St. Teresa of Avila is right:  Todo se pasa.  Dios no se muda.

   For 2010 we will be posting on the 10’s:  10th, 20th and 30th of each month, except in February when we will do one on the 28th since there is no 30th.

Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year.

Jesu, ufam Tobie.

Advent Ponderings 4

Dec 19, 2009 | Latest

ADVENT PONDERINGS 4

St. Matthew goes on to tell us that the angel then appeared to Joseph in a dream and said to him (addressing him with his full, honorable title), “Joseph, son of David, have no fear about taking Mary as your wife.  It is by the Holy Spirit that she has conceived this child.”  His intuition is verified!  This truly has been the work of God and God’s messenger is telling him to proceed in his marriage!  Joseph must surely have been thrown into exhilarating joy tinged with wonder at what all of this meant.  The Gospel text continues, “When Joseph awoke he did as the angel of the Lord had directed him….” We can almost see him running through the streets in the early morning dawn to Mary’s house.  With reverent and eager awe he must have told her, “God has revealed your secret to me.  Come now into my home to be my wife.”  Joseph was entrusted by God to be the guardian of Mary’s virginity and the guardian of her secret.  He kept both trusts inviolably to the end of his life.

   How the young bride and groom must have rejoiced and talked together about all of these events – about what the title “Son of the Most High” meant, and about what giving him “the name Jesus because He would save His people from their sins” meant.  How exceedingly happy they were together in their poor, little home awaiting the birth of this Child whom neither of them fully understood.  “What manner of child would this be?” as had been queried at the birth of his cousin John.

   Then when Joseph came home one evening with the news of the decree from King Herod that they must leave their home and go to Bethlehem to register for the census, Mary must have received this news with mixed emotions.  She surely could not have liked the idea of traveling so far from her home and all the things she held dear when she was so near to the delivery of her Son.  And yet, perhaps, there was also some sigh of new expectancy and joy as she recalled one of the prophecies she had heard proclaimed in the synagogue at the Sabbath celebrations, “And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the princes of Judah, since from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel”.  Mary knew well the exalted vocation of her nation as did all of her people.  Hers was not a sterile waiting for this expected ruler.  She had surely prayed for his coming and studied and pondered everything she heard about him.  One who was capable of singing the song of the Magnificat was indeed one who had retained many of the prophecies she had heard proclaimed in the synagogue Sabbath after Sabbath since she was a child.  Was this call to Bethlehem another indication of who this child in her womb would be?  Was there some connection between the familiar title “Messiah” and the title the angel had spoken, “Son of the Most High”?, between the angel’s description “He who would rule over the house of Jacob forever” and the prophet’s description, “a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel?”  Was this call to Bethlehem another opening of Mary and Joseph’s minds to God’s magnificent plan which would eventually reach out to encompass all mankind?

   Now with her heart and mind brimming with angelic messages and ancient prophecies and her womb fruitful with the Son of God, Mary with her husband, Joseph, promptly set out to make her way to the city of their ancestors.  The rest of the story is plainly laid open for us in the Gospel of St. Luke.  We have only to watch and adore as it reaches its climax with more angelic voices “singing mad songs above Bethlehem plains.”(3)

1        from a homily by Father Gregory Kant

2        from “Exile in the Stars” by Father James Donehue

      3     ibid