Friday Five – Volume 96

Friday Five-Mere Observations

— 1 —

Andy is a friend that I have not met in person. We met through a social networking site six years ago and that friendship has carried over onto Facebook. We became friends due to our interests in reading and writing. Andy spent the last several weeks with his wife Viv sailing down the Ohio River and back again and chronicling their journey on Facebook through photos and even short videos. He has also at long last began to blog and I am glad he did. One of his initial posts was called “Orphans” and it brought out some memories and musings for me that I shared with him in the Facebook combox and will post below.

I remember going to auto salvage yards all the time with my dad when I was young. The “office” you described is spot on the money with accuracy, and it was the same in the auto garage/gas station in a small South Dakota town that my dad owned. I can remember going there with him early in the dark morning before the sunrise. He’d put the coffee on for those who always came by first thing and I would play with the adding machine, smell the freshly brewed coffee and wait for the school bus to arrive. I love those places.

Andy’s response: I do too…I get excited about a trip to a place like that the way my wife does about IKEA.

I really do remember those early days. I was in the first and second grades when I met the bus each morning at my dad’s gas station along the highway. Fedora, South Dakota was a town/burg/dot-on-the-map of 50 souls. I went to school in Howard, 30 minutes away, instead of Artesian (only 7 miles west) because Artesian was in another county. We moved to Artesian (pop. 200) after two years in Fedora and I attended third and fourth grades by walking across an open lot a half-block wide. The bus ride to Howard took an hour each way. An ice box in the winter and an oven in the early fall and late spring, that yellow bus and its crusty old driver was an education all by itself. I only missed the bus once when I failed to get to it on time after school and screamed my head off outside the locked doors of the school until my teacher found me in hysterics and was able to call my mom to come pick me up.

Anyway, I’ve digressed. I meant to write about those mornings with my dad and even the many trips we took to auto salvage yards looking for the right part for a car he was fixing. Maybe another time. Autumn always seems to bring these types of memories to the forefront for me.

— 2 —

In Book X, Chapter 23 of his Confessions, St. Augustine said this regarding truth. Here is an excerpt.

Why, then, does truth generate hatred, and why does thy servant who preaches the truth come to be an enemy to them who also love the happy life, which is nothing else than joy in the truth–unless it be that truth is loved in such a way that those who love something else besides her wish that to be the truth which they do love. Since they are unwilling to be deceived, they are unwilling to be convinced that they have been deceived. Therefore, they hate the truth for the sake of whatever it is that they love in place of the truth. They love truth when she shines on them; and hate her when she rebukes them. And since they are not willing to be deceived, but do wish to deceive, they love truth when she reveals herself and hate her when she reveals them. On this account, she will so repay them that those who are unwilling to be exposed by her she will indeed expose against their will, and yet will not disclose herself to them.

Thus, thus, truly thus: the human mind so blind and sick, so base and ill-mannered, desires to lie hidden, but does not wish that anything should be hidden from it. And yet the opposite is what happens—the mind itself is not hidden from the truth, but the truth is hidden from it. Yet even so, for all its wretchedness, it still prefers to rejoice in truth rather than in known falsehoods. It will, then, be happy only when without other distractions it comes to rejoice in that single Truth through which all things else are true.

They love truth when she shines on them; and hate her when she rebukes them. This brought to mind those who are always saying “Who am I to judge? Jesus loved sinners and forgave everyone.” They love that truth. They hate, however, and therefore never mention what Jesus said after he forgave someone their sins.

“Go, and sin no more.”

— 3 —

I read something the other day that both shocked and disgusted me. Take a look.

‘I want them all to die in a fire,’ said one man with a doctorate. ‘I would be in favor of establishing a state for them … . If not then sterilize them so they can’t breed more,’ said a middle aged man with a master’s degree. ‘The only good Muslim is a dead Muslim,’ said another under-45-year-old man with a doctorate. ‘I abhor them and I wish we could do away with them,’ said a middle-aged woman with a master’s degree. ‘A tortuous death would be too good for them,’ said a college-educated man between the ages of 36 and 45. ‘They should be eradicated without hesitation or remorse,’ said an elderly woman with a master’s degree.

Gotcha! That wasn’t what was said. After all that’s horrible! Who would ever wish that on another human being, who though of a different faith, is still fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of our Creator? Here’s what was really said.

‘I want them all to die in a fire,’ said one man with a doctorate. ‘I would be in favor of establishing a state for them … . If not then sterilize them so they can’t breed more,’ said a middle aged man with a master’s degree. ‘The only good homosexual is a dead homosexual,’ said another under-45-year-old man with a doctorate. ‘I abhor them and I wish we could do away with them,’ said a middle-aged woman with a master’s degree. ‘A tortuous death would be too good for them,’ said a college-educated man between the ages of 36 and 45. ‘They should be eradicated without hesitation or remorse,’ said an elderly woman with a master’s degree.

Holy crap that’s terrible! The hubris of someone saying such a thing and hiding behind their so-called higher education. I don’t care if you do have a Master’s Degree or your Ph.D., to advocate such a horrific crime against someone just because of their sexuality and in this, the Golden Age of Tolerance®! Such thoughts are surely to be shunned by people of a more liberal and progressive slant.

Oops. I messed up again. In my rush to condemn I mistyped. Here, finally, is what was really said:

‘I want them all to die in a fire,’ said one man with a doctorate. ‘I would be in favor of establishing a state for them … . If not then sterilize them so they can’t breed more,’ said a middle aged man with a master’s degree. ‘The only good Christian is a dead Christian,’ said another under-45-year-old man with a doctorate. ‘I abhor them and I wish we could do away with them,’ said a middle-aged woman with a master’s degree. ‘A tortuous death would be too good for them,’ said a college-educated man between the ages of 36 and 45. ‘They should be eradicated without hesitation or remorse,’ said an elderly woman with a master’s degree.

Oh. Well…nevermind then.

[Source]

— 4 —

The continued release of videos exposing Planned Parenthood brought to mind something I recently read in a book by Paul Thigpen.

I looked to the heart of the nation,
and, behold, an army of children,
an infantry of infants,
naked except for a covering of blood,
crawling and calling their mothers and fathers.

“You champions of choice!” they cried out to them.
“See now what you have chosen!”
Their souls were radiant, but their bodies a horror:
some burned, some disemboweled,
some dismembered,
and some with their brains sucked out.

“We are the lost generation;
we are the unborn nation;
we are the disposable souls,
the holocaust of your lust for leisure.
We are the birthright you traded
for a stew of pleasure,
the future you forfeited
for a crib of convenience,
the heirs you betrayed
for thirty pieces
of silvery selfishness.”

The doctors of death have made their fortunes
digging tiny graves
and singing as they dig:

“We wage the war for women;
we are the health care heroes;
we are the friends of freedom;
the keepers of your secrets;
the pillars of your privacy.
Our bloody hands are trophies.”

Rachel no longer weeps for her children,
but joins hands with Herod.
Mothers, fathers, and their children’s assassins
sit down to dine together.
They feed on the flesh of their babies,
and wipe their mouths, and say,
“We have done nothing wrong.”

While all along, the multitudes
pass by and look the other way,
busy with their banalities,
preoccupied with their pleasantries,
complacent in their comfort.

[excerpt from The Burden, by Paul Thigpen, pages 14-15]

— 5 —

I was too busy to add this back on August 24, the anniversary of the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD. It is interesting to watch one rendering of what the destruction of Pompeii may have looked like. Watching the initial minute and the morning of that day, with its blue skies, reminded me of the blueness of the skies over New York City, as well as Lincoln, Nebraska, back on Sept. 11, 2001.

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