BLOGIC: An Introduction

Nov 14, 2009 | Latest

BLOGIC:  An Introduction

   Long ago, when Sean first asked me to write for OurSeton, I sent a few samples to see if they were what he was looking for.  One of those was a logic piece with a title that was long and cumbersome and another was a continuation of the theme with a longer and more cumbersome title.  Things happened, and I never used either piece.  More things happened and I decided to use them.  Then other things….you get the idea.   The time arrived to use the first, but it needed a new title.  I remembered from the very first posting that Mrs. Ferri had used the word elision to teach us where the word blog comes from.  I thought this was a perfect opportunity to put into practice this word and came up with the above title.  To be sure I was using elision correctly, I looked it up and sadly this title is not an application of the word. Elisions require that at least one letter of a word is left out as in o’er for over.  My word, blogic, uses all of the letters of blog and logic.   So I guess it is a fusion rather than an elision.  Still, it is a great word.  I think we should refer to whatever it is I am doing here as Blogic, rather than a blog.  Blog seems weighted and slow, as in bogged down.  But Blogic, because of the softened “g”, connotes wisdom, truth, reason, apple pie, the American way and all good things.

   There are many people who influenced my decisions to and then not to and finally to post a modification of the original piece.   In order of appearance in the decision historically:  Mrs. O’Herron, President Obama, Sister Rose Marie, St. Alphonsus Liguori, Leo White, Gage Arnold, Mysterious Person, Carter Stevens.  I thank all of you. (These people are identified at the end of this posting, except for Mysterious Person who will remain forever a mystery.)

    Here is an aside.  One thing that has been bothering me a little, is the normal process to get to Blogic.  One goes to OurSeton’s home page and then scrolls down to that picture and if really bored reads again that beginning of an introduction about me.  The next step is to click on read more.  This implies there is more to read about me biographically.  Instead, there is the latest posting.  Maybe the picture could be changed to one of Aristotle; the biography stuff eliminated.  [My sisters Kath and Mrs. Carroll wrote more of a biography – Kath taking my childhood and Mrs. Carroll continuing from where she left off.  I have never seen this and it may be lost to humanity.]

   Before we get to the original inspired by Mrs. O’Herron, let us consider what Sister Rose Marie told me.  She said that in whatever we write, we should follow the advice of St. Alphonsus Liguori:  [roughly paraphrased]  write only to promote the truth positively without criticism of others, then we shall never fail in charity.  I have given this some thought.  It seems that often times we come to understand the good by seeing what is bad in the wrong.  If this is the purpose of criticism, then it seems to be of value in promoting virtue. 

    Here is an example.  According to the Weekly Standard 11/24/08 there are three countries which have or are considering these: giving rights to nature (Ecuador); declaring constitutionally that some plants have an intrinsic dignity because of their cellular and molecular similarities to humans (Switzerland) [I think this must include the cucumber which I understand has many similarities to us]; devolving humans into a community of equals with chimps and gorillas (Spain).   It is probably beneath us to criticize these things, but being aware of them may help us to see what ails our planet that might lead to such ideas.  I contend it is lack of knowledge – not knowledge that’s an accumulation of facts and principles, but knowledge as a Gift of the Holy Spirit.  The Gift of Knowledge makes us look at creatures from the viewpoint of their relation to their Maker.  All is creature except for the Maker.  Therefore, knowledge would give us greater appreciation of Blessed Mother, the Angels, the Saints.  It would give us a better appreciation of the elderly, the baby in the womb, our neighbors and family, ourselves.  It would also help us to keep in perspective the gifts of animal and plant life as we relate all to the Maker.  Is it criticism to say that some of mankind has gotten a little out of whack in relating creatures to God?   I think I need to read more of what St. Alphonsus said on this. 

   This is too long now to give the adapted version of the piece Mrs. O’Herron inspired. We will do that another day.  Here are the identifications of the inspirers. 

Mrs. O’Herron:  mother of 8 alumni and a guidance counselor at Seton///// President Obama:  US President////Sister Rose Marie:  Poor Clare nun and sister of Seton teachers Dick and Bob Pennefather//// St. Alphonsus Liguori: 18^th Century saint, founder of the Redemptorists/////Leo White:  college classmate turned college professor/////Gage Arnold:  Class of ‘09/////Mysterious Person:  at one time, perhaps, resided south of the North Pole////Carter Stevens:  Class of ’08.

Jezu, ufam Tobie.

Until Death Do Us Part

Nov 5, 2009 | Latest

A couple of notes:

Congratulations to Seton dad Ken Cuccinelli on his election to Attorney General of Virginia and to alumni dad Bob Marshall on his re-election to his 10^th term as a Virginia Delegate.

Check out Glenn Gregory’s comment on the last blog entry – he waxes nostalgic and hilarious when he considers his World Culture days.

UNTIL DEATH DO US PART

November 3^rd , Mom and I were outside on a beautiful day:  perfectly blue skies, 60 degrees, not the slightest breeze and that November desert-like quiet. I said to Mom that it was so quiet because all the song birds had gone south for the winter.  Just then two robins came flying by and one, of course, was chirping.  But that was it.  It was so calm and tranquil.  Still thinking about the Small Ball Game, I think, I began making snowballs from the patchy snow that remained from the foot that had fallen a couple days earlier, and I began throwing them toward a big barrel that we sometimes burn trash in.  My success rate of making a basket was terrible.  I’d throw a right hand, then a left hand and after many throws had only made one of each.  My goal was to make a right and a left consecutively.  The barrel was 38’ away (I just went out and measured with a yardstick), and my failure may have been because, like snowflakes, no two snowballs were exactly alike.  We had been out for over an hour, and Mom was ready to go in.  So I  made two last snowballs, threw with the right – perfect throw.  Threw with the left – perfect throw.  Obviously, I am great under pressure.  It was a tremendously exciting moment which Mom did not seem to care about in the least.  But considering that it is November, I think Mom was right to be unimpressed.

   November has a beginning like no other month.  We first have the exultant joy of All Saints Day as we look forward to our place in the Heavenly Kingdom, then we are immediately brought back to earth, so to speak, as we consider the Poor Souls and are reminded of our own sinfulness and need for penance.  This somber mood prevails liturgically through most of the month dedicated to the Church Suffering.  And it prevails environmentally, at least in this hemisphere at this latitude.  The trees are silhouettes of their former selves having shed their recent glorious past; the birdsong has quieted; the crops are harvested except for the desiccating field corn which hangs limply on brown stalks; the green sprouts of winter wheat stand in contrast to the prevailing brown, but even it is a reminder that unless the grain of wheat shall fall into the ground and die, it remains lifeless. 

   The Mass readings as we approach the Feast of Christ the King call us to consider the Four Last Things:  Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell.  We are asked to consider four things we know very little about.  We have undergone the death and rebirth of Baptism that has given us the life that no one can take from us, while we remain in this mortal body that we will one day, for a time, leave behind.    We can define death:  the separation of soul and body, but then we are left only with imaginings.  Lifelong partners from the womb, it must be a strange event to be suddenly separated from the body; to leave it behind to its decay while we now begin a quasi-assumption to our Particular Judgment.  Perhaps in this separation we will first truly appreciate what this union of soul and body is — how united they make us the microcosm of the universe and little less than the angels.  The separation will surely make us look forward to our reunion with the body at the resurrection.   The soul must come to Our Lord without its partner.  It gives us the image of standing naked before Him Who knows all things and from Whom we can keep no secret.  It is both sobering and liberating to consider this.  Sobering because we will clearly see how what we have been has made us who we are; liberating because the facades of this life are removed and no pretense is possible. 

   The soul will undergo its purification without the body, but we will know that the cleansing will make our souls suitable partners for the resurrected body in its glorified state. 

   The last three verses of “For All the Saints” gives us an idea of what we are saying here.

   The golden evening brightens in the west;

   Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;

   Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.

   But then there breaks a yet more glorious day;

   The saints triumphant rise in bright array;

   The King of glory passes on His way.

  From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast

  Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,

  Singing to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

Jezum, ufam Tobie.