Double Standards

The following quote from a poster calling herself Sadie Vacantist on the quidnunc "The Hermaneutic of Continuity" was so good Estase decided to post it here.

"I am watching (not listening to) Andrew Marr on his Sunday morning show before I set off to Mass.  He is interviewing Peter Townshend who presumably has something to plug.  They are all smiles (I have the sound turned down).

Remember this is within a week of the {pedophile Jimmy} Saville story, so where's Esther Rantzen?

If the BBC rides out this storm, they will be back attacking the Catholic Church within a month.  Believe me."

A Character

  "A Bird, who mongst his other sins
    Had liv'd among the Jacobins,
    Tho' like a kitten amid Rats
    Or callow Tit in Nest of Bats
     He much abhorr'd all Democrats,
    Yet natheless stood in ill report
     Of wishing ill to Church and Court--
     Tho' he'd nor claw nor tooth nor sting--
      And learnt to pipe, God Save the King;
     Tho' each day did new feathers bring,
      All swore, he had but a leathern Wing--
     Nor polish'd wing nor feathered Tail
      Nor down-clad Thigh would aught avail--
      And tho' being tame, devoid of gall
      He civilly assur'd them all
      ' A Bird am I of Phoebus' Breed,
        And on the Sunflower cling and feed.
        My name, good Sirs! is Thomas Tit!'
      The Bats would have hail'd him Brother Cit,
      Or, at the farthest, Cousin German.
      At length the matter to determine
     He publicly disowned the vermin,
      He spared the Mouse, he praised the Owl
      But Bats were neither Flesh or Fowl.
      Blood-sucking Vampires, Harpy, Gouls,
      Came in full clatter from his throat,--
      Till his old Nest-mates chang'd their Note
      To Hireling, Traitor, and Turn-Coat--
      A base Apostate that had sold
      His very teeth and claws for Gold--
      And then his feathers!  smokes the jest.
      A tit indeed!  Aye, Tit for Tat
      With Places and Title, Brother Bat,
      We soon shall see how well he'll play
      Count Goldfinch or Sir Judas Jay!

      Alas poor Bird!  and ill-bestarr'd.
      Or rather let us say, poor Bard!
      And henceforth quit the Allegoric
       With Metaphor and Simile
      For simple facts and style historic--
      Alas, poor Bard!  no gold had he.
      Behind another's team he stept
      And plough'd and sowed, while others reapt;
      The work was his, but theirs the play.
      Sic vos non vobis,his whole story.
      Besides, whate'er he writ or said
      Came from his heart as well as head,
      And tho' he never left in lurch
      His King, his Country, or his Church,
      Twas but to humour his own cynical
      Contempt of doctrines Jacobinical,
      To his own Conscience only hearty
      Twas but by chance he served the party,
      The self-same things had said and writ
      Had Pitt been Fox and Fox been Pitt,
      Content his own applause to win
      Would never dash thro' thick and thin
      And he can make, so say the wise,
      No claim who makes no sacrifice--
      And bard still less;  what claim had he
      Who swore, it vex'd his soul to see
      So grand a Cause, so proud a realm
      With Goose and Goody at the Helm,
      Who long ago had fall'n asunder
      But for their Rival's baser blunders,
      The Coward Whine and Frenchified
      Slaver and Slang of th' other side--

      Thus, his own whim his only bribe,
      Our bard pursued his old A B C;
      Contented if he could subscribe
      In fullest sense his name, Estase
      (Tis Punic Greek, for He hath stood)
      --Whate'er the men, the cause was good--
      And therefore with a right good will
      Poor fool!  he fought their battles still.
      Tush!  squeaked the Bats;  --a mere bravado
      To whitewash that base renegado;
      Tis plain unless you're blind or mad,
      His conscience for the bays he barters;
      As true it is--as true as said--
      These circlets of green baize he had--
      But then, alas!  they were his garters!

      Ah silly Bard!  unfed, untended,
      His Lamp but glimmer'd in its socket:
      He liv'd, unhonour'd and unfriended
      With scarce a penny in his pocket:
      Nay, tho' he hid it from the Many,
      With scarce a pocket for his penny."

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
    

The Fifth Column: Splinters, Logs and Papal Fantasies

The Fifth Column: Splinters, Logs and Papal FantasiesI didn't know three quarters of what kind of a "hero" Gandhi was!

Poor But Proud

     "Jack Spindle and I were old acquaintance;  but he's gone.  Jack was bred in a compting-house, and his father dying just as he was out of his time, left him a handsome fortune, and many friends to advise with.  The restraint in which he had been brought up had thrown a gloom upon his temper, which some regarded as habitual prudence, and from such considerations he had every day repeated offers of friendship.  Those who had money were ready to offer him their assistance that way;  and they who had daughters frequently, in the warmth of affection, advised him to marry.  Jack, however, was in good circumstances;  he wanted neither money, friends, nor a wife, and therefore modestly declined their proposals.
       Some errors in the management of his affairs and several losses in trade soon brought Jack to a different way of thinking;  and he at last thought it his best way to let his friends know, that their offers were at length acceptable.  His first address was, therefore, to a scrivener who had formerly made him frequent offers of money and friendship at a time when, perhaps, he knew those offers would have been refused.
       Jack, therefore, thought he might use his old friend without any ceremony;  and, as a man confident of not being refused, requested the use of an hundred guineas for a few days, as he just then had an occasion for money.  'And pray, Mr. Spindle,' replied the scrivener, 'do you want all this money?'  'Want it, sir,' says the other;  'if I did not want it, I should not have asked it.'  'I am sorry for that, ' says the friend;  'for those who want money when they come to borrow, will want money when they should come to pay.  To say the truth, Mr. Spindle, money is money now-a-days.  I believe it is all sunk in the bottom of the sea, for my part;  and he that has got a little is a fool if he does not keep what he has got.'
       Not quite disconcerted by this refusal, our adventurer was resolved to apply to another, whom he knew to be the very best friend he had in the world.  The gentleman whom he now addressed received his proposal with all the affability that could be expected from generous friendship.  'Let me see, --you want an hundred guineas;  and pray, dear Jack, would not fifty answer?'  'If you have but fifty to spare, sir, I must be contented.'  'Fifty to spare!  I do not say that, for I believe I have but twenty about me.'  'Then I must borrow the other thirty from some other friend.'  'And pray,' replied the friend, 'would it not be the best way to borrow the whole money from that other friend?  then one note will serve for all, you know?  Lord, Mr. Spindle, make no ceremony with me at any time;  you know I'm your friend, when you choose a bit of dinner or so.  You, Tom, see the gentleman down.  You won't forget to dine with us now and then?  Your very humble servant.'
       Distressed, but not discouraged at this treatment, he was at last resolved to find that assistance from love which he could not have from friendship.  Miss Jenny Dismal had a fortune in her own hands, and she had already made all the advances that her sex's modesty would permit.  He made his proposal, therefore, with confidence, but soon perceived 'No bankrupt ever found the fair one kind.'  Miss Jenny and Master Billy Galoon were lately fallen deeply in love with each other, and the whole neighbourhood thought it would soon be a match.
       Every day now began to strip Jack of his former finery;  his clothes flew piece by piece to the pawnbrokers;  and he seemed at length equipped in the genuine mourning of antiquity.  But still he thought himself secure from starving;  the numberless invitations he had received to dine, even after his losses, were yet unanswered:  he was, therefore, now resolved to accept of a dinner, because he wanted one;  and in this manner he actually lived among his friends a whole week without being openly affronted.  The last place I saw poor Jack was at the Reverend Dr. Gosling's.  He had, as he fancied, just nicked the time, for he came in just as the cloth was laying.  He took a chair without being desired, and talked for some time without being attended to.  He assured the company, that nothing procured so good an appetite as a walk to the White Conduit House, where he had been that morning.  He looked at the tablecloth, and praised the figure of the damask;  talked of a feast where he had been the day before, but that the venison was overdone.  All this, however, procured the poor creature no invitation, and he was not yet sufficiently hardened to stay without being asked;  wherefore, finding the gentleman of the house insensible to all his fetches, he thought proper at last to retire, and mend his appetite by a walk in the Park.
       You then, O ye beggars of my acquaintance, whether in rags or lace--whether in Kent Street or at the Mall--whether at Smyrna or St. Giles's,--might I advise you as a friend, never seem in want of the favour which you solicit.  Apply to every passion but pity for redress.  You may find relief from vanity, from self-interest, or from avarice, but seldom from compassion.  The very eloquence of a poor man is disgusting;  and that mouth which is opened, even for flattery, is seldom expected to close without a petition.
       If, then, you would ward off the gripe of poverty, pretend to be a stranger to her, and she will at least use you with ceremony.  Hear not my advice, but that of Ofellus.  If you be caught dining upon a halfpenny porringer of pease soup and potatoes, praise the wholesomeness of your frugal repast.  You may observe that Dr. Cheyne has prescribed pease broth for the gravel;  hint that you are not one of those who are always making a god of your belly.  If you are obliged to wear a flimsy stuff in the midst of winter, be the first to remark that stuffs are very much worn at Paris.  If there be some irreparable defects in any part of your equipage, which cannot be concealed by all the arts of sitting cross-legged, coaxing, or darning, say that neither you nor Sampson Gideon were ever very fond of dress.  Or if you be a philosopher, hint that Plato and Seneca are the tailors you choose to employ;  assure the company, that men ought to be content with a bare covering, since what is now so much the pride of some, was formerly our shame. . . .In short, however caught, do not give up, but ascribe to the frugality of your dispostion what others might be apt to attribute to the narrowness of your circumstances, and appear rather to be a miser than a beggar.  To be poor, and to seem poor, is a certain method never to rise.  Pride in the great is hateful, in the wise it is ridiculous;  beggarly pride is the only sort of vanity I can excuse."  The Bee No.III by Oliver Goldsmith

On Useless Knowledge

       Does "useful" mean good?  And if "useful" means good, what does "useful" mean?  A Power Line blog about literature brought up some odd comments.  One commenter said that communications is a more "useful" major than literature.  I take it to mean this commenter thinks communications is more helpful at getting a job than literature.  But does this mean communications is more "useful" than literature?  Estase thinks there are many fields of study that are worthwhile that are nearly no value at all in the job market, and, conversely, there are many fields of study that may get one a job, and are not any more of an education than trade school.  Communication majors may be prepared to be local news personalities, but any familiarity they have with actual thinking about broad issues of right and wrong or reality versus illusion will be nil.  The fact of the matter is that the kind of thinking about abstract reason that was once the hallmark of a liberal arts education is nearly extinct.  Far more undergraduates will read "I Rigoberta Menchu" than will read Plato's Gorgias.  The reason for this is that the only abstractions modern colleges like to teach about are the three isms:  racism, sexism, homophobia.  OK, so the last doesn't end in "ism," but you get the idea.  My major as an undergraduate was political science, something that could get one lost in a miasma of crap, but which also allowed one enough wiggle room (at least in the mid 90s) to take plenty of philosophy courses.  Indeed philosophy is another "useless" major, odd since in 1940, most college students were philosophy majors.  What percentage they constitute now would be interesting.

NIH Study:Rob Halford Member of TEA Party

I have wondered who kidnapped Edmund Burke, and who decided Rob Halford was a member of the TEA Party.  Edmund Burke, according to the Investigation Discovery show "Evil Twins," is a name associated with white supremacist groups.  The eighteenth century Whig was also labeled as a homosexual by the ridiculously Freudian Isaac Kramnick book "The Rage of Edmund Burke," whose smoking guns on the homosexuality claim were quotes such as the one from the impeachment of Warren Hastings about "pure defecated evil."  Speaking of weird Freudian theories, and with a petasus tip to Protein Wisdom, a National Institutes of Health study (yes, even though we're broke, we can still fund junk science) by W.W. Tilden entitled "The Psychohistorical Roots of the American 'Tea Party' Movement" makes the ridiculous claim that Tea Partiers like it in the ass.  To quote:

       Extreme resistance to governmental taxation and authority is derived, according to Freud's theory of anal characterology, from premature and harshly coercive toilet training, in which a child is forced unfairly and against its will to surrender the product of his eliminations (which represent money, among other things, in the unconscious) to parental authority.  Among these individuals anal eroticism plays a significant role in the psychogenesis of paranoia and conspiracy theorizing, which may represent a defense mechanism erected against repressed fears of passive submission.

Isaac Kramnick couldn't have said it better!  And what decade did Kramnick write his piece of weirdness in?  The 70s!  The same decade that gave us "Deliverance," "Midnight Cowboy," and "Dog Day Afternoon."  No, people in the seventies weren't obsessed with homosexuality or anything.

The Sacred Cows

       I just read S.E. Cupp's explanation of why she thinks it is sometimes appropriate to call out Rush Limbaugh.  I have to say I wholeheartedly agree with Ms. Cupp that Rush Limbaugh is occasionally an obstacle, someone whose Texas-sized ego and big mouth add up to big trouble at the polling place.  Limbaugh used to be a genuinely hilarious entertainer in the Clinton years, when a three hour dose of Limbaugh was all that got many conservatives through the day.  Since then, something has changed.  Instead of crazy song parodies and political satire, Limbaugh for about the last thirteen years has taken on the mantle of a serious commentator, something he is tempermentally and educationally unprepared to do.  I think this trend started when National Review did a cover in the 90s that depicted Limbaugh as a founding father, the kind of stroke Cape Girardeau, Missouri's favorite son's ego hardly needed. 
       Another sacred cow that needs to be ritually butchered is Ann Coulter.  While undoubtedly smarter than Mr. Limbaugh, Coulter has an abrasive, hyperbolic style that creates more enemies than friends.  Coulter totally prostituted herself in a vain attempt to get Mitt Romney elected, and those whose candidates she lied about during the primary season will not soon forget her doing so.  Coulter has also contributed to the image of Republicans as a party for WASPs, people who spend their off time at the local country club. 
       If more commentators followed the example of George Will and Charles Krauthammer, perhaps the Republican party could start shedding its image as being hyperbolic, sarcastic, abrasive, and angry.  Occasionally questioning the excesses of Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh would be a start.

Rock and Roll Philosophy

  The two quotes that explain 99% of what happens in the world.

       1)"No good deed goes unpunished."  John Mellencamp, "When the Walls (Come Tumbling Down)"

       2)"All crimes are paid."  The Sex Pistols, "God Save the Queen"

Update:  Although it is not as all-explainatory as the two main quotes, honorable mention goes to the following from "New York," also by the Sex Pistols.  "You're condemned--to eternal bullshit."

How We Roll

       The verdict of Salon's Alex Pareene (you know, the same Alex Pareene that called Robert Stacy McCain a "Neo-confederate?) is in on the Socially Liberal Republican Victory Project (AKA the Conservative Victory Project) of Karl Rove.  Alex lauds it, saying so by way of remarking that his social conservative opponents are just in it for the money.  Because Pareene's pet theory is that no one really is a conservative, they just pretend to be to get contributions and sell books.  Which is best illustrated by comparison with President Obama, who never did anything tawdry like suggest people contribute to his reelection campaign in lieu of giving loved ones gifts, and Rachel Maddow, who apparently does her MSNBC show for free just for the joy of evangelizing.

     Pareene is wrong.  Conservatives don't do it for the money.  They do it for the sex.  I can't tell you how many women Estase has gotten in the sack by telling that he was a pro-life Republican.

Corruption of Our English Tongue, From the Tatler

       "The following letter has laid before me many great and manifest evils in the world of letters which I had overlooked;  but they open to me a very busy scene, and it will require no small care and application to amend errors which are become so universal.  The affectation of politeness is exposed in this epistle with a great deal of wit and discernment;  so that whatever discourses I may fall into hereafter upon the subjects the writer treats of, I shall at present lay the matter before the world, without the least alteration from the words of my correspondent.

To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire.  Sir,
       There are some abuses among us of great consequence, the reformation of which is properly your province;  though, as far as I have been conversant in your papers, you have not yet considered them.  These are, the deplorable ignorance that for some years hath reigned among our English writers, the great depravity of our taste, and the continual corruption of our style.  I say nothing here of those who handle particular sciences, divinity, law, politics, and the belles lettres;  together with those by whom books are not translated, but, as the common expressions are 'done out of' French, Latin, or other language, and 'made English.'  I cannot but observe to you, that until of late years a Grub Street book was always bound in sheepskin, with suitable print and paper, the price never above a shilling, and taken off wholly by common tradesmen or country pedlars;  but now they appear in all sizes and shapes, and in all places.  They are handed about from lapfuls in every coffee-house to persons of quality;  are shown in Westminster Hall and the Court of Requests.  You may see them gilt, and in royal paper of five or six hundred pages, and rated accordingly.  I would engage to furnish you with a catalogue of English books published within the compass of seven years past, which at the first hand would cost you a hundred pounds, wherein you shall not be able to find ten lines together of common grammar or common sense.
       These two evils, ignorance and want of taste, have produced a third;  I mean the continual corruption of our English tongue, which, without some timely remedy, will suffer more by the false refinements of twenty years past, than it hath been improved in the forgoing hundred.  And this is what I design chiefly to enlarge upon, leaving the former evils to your animadversion.
      But instead of giving you a list of the last refinements crept into our language, I here send you a copy of a letter I received, some time ago, from a most accomplished person in this way of writing;  upon which I shall make some remarks.  It is in these terms:
                'Sir,
                        I cou'd n't get the things you sent for all about Town.-----I tho't to ha' come down myself, and then I'd h' brot' um;  but I ha'nt don't, and I believe I can't do't, that's Pozz------.  Tom begins to gi' mself airs, because he's going with the Plenipo's ------.  'Tis said the French King will bamboozl us agen, which causes many speculations.  The Jacks and others of that Kidney are very appish, and alert upon't, as you may see by their Phizz's------.  Will Hazzard has got the hipps, having lost to the Tune of five hundr'd pound, tho' he understands play very well, no Body better.  He has promis't me upon rep, to leave off play;  but you know 'tis a weakness he's too apt to give into, tho' he has as much wit as any man, no Body more.  He has lain incog ever since-----.  The mob's very quiet with us now------.  I believe you thot I banter'd you in my last, like a country put-----. I shan't leave town this month, etc.'

      This letter is in every point an admirable pattern of the present polite way of writing;  nor is it of less authority for being an epistle.  You may gather every flower in it, with a thousand more of equal sweetness, from the books, pamphlets, and single papers offered us every day in the coffee-houses.  And these are the beauties introduced to supply the want of wit, sense, humour, and learning, which formerly were looked upon as qualifications for a writer.  If a man of wit, who died forty years ago, were to rise from the grave on purpose, how would he be able to read this letter?  And after he had got through that difficulty, how would he be able to understand it?  The first thing that strikes your eye is the breaks at the end of almost every sentence;  of which I know not the use, only that it is a refinement, and very frequently practised.  Then you will observe the abbreviations and elisions, by which consonants of most obdurate sound are joined together, without one softening vowel to intervene;  and all this only to make one syllable of two, directly contrary to the example of the Greeks and Romans, altogether of the Gothic strain, and a natural tendency towards relapsing into barbarity, which delights in monosyllables, and uniting of mute consonants, as it is observable in all the northern languages.  And this is still more visible in the next refinement, which consists in pronouncing the first syllable in a word that has many, and dismissing the rest, such as 'phizz, hipps, mob, pozz, rep,' and many more, when we are already overloaded with monosyllables, which are the disgrace of our language.  Thus we cram one syllable, and cut off the rest, as the owl fatteneth her mice after she had bit off their legs to prevent them from running away;  and if ours be the same reason for maiming our words, it will certainly answer the end;  for I am sure no other nation will desire to borrow them.  Some words are hitherto but fairly split, and therefore only in their way to perfection, as Incog., and Plenipo.  But in a short time, it is to be hoped, they will be further docked to Inc. and Plen.  This reflection has made me of late years very impatient for a peace, which I believe would save the lives of many brave words, as well as men.  The war has introduced abundence of polysyllables, which will never be able to live many more campaigns, 'speculations, operations, preliminaries, ambassadors, palisadoes, communication, circumvallation, battallions,'  as numerous as they are, if they attack us too frequently in our coffee-houses, we shall certainly put them to flight, and cut off the rear.
       The third refinement, observable in the letter I send you, consists in the choice of certain words invented by some pretty fellows, such as 'banter, bamboozle, country put, and kidney,' as it is there applied;  some of which are now struggling for the vogue, and others are in possession of it.  I have done my utmost for some years past, to stop the progress of 'mob' and 'banter,' but have been plainly borne down by numbers, and betrayed by those who promised to assist me.
       In the last place, you are to take notice of certain choice phrases scattered through the letter, some of them tolerable enough, until they were worn to rags by servile imitators.  You might easily find them though they were not in a different print, and therefore I need not disturb them.
       These are the false refinements in our style which you ought to correct;  first, by argument and fair means, but if those fail, I think you are to make use of your authority as Censor, and by an annual Index Expurgatorius expunge all words and phrases that are offensive to good sense and condemn those barbarous mutilations of vowels and syllables.  In this last point the usual pretence is that they spell as they speak:  a noble standard for language!  to depend on the caprice of every coxcomb, who, because words are the clothing of our thoughts, cuts them out and shapes them as he pleases, and changes them oftener than his dress.  I believe all reasonable people would be content that such refiners were more sparing in their words and liberal in their syllables;  and upon this head I should be glad you would bestow some advice upon several young readers in our churches, who, coming up from the university full fraught with admiration of our town politeness, will needs correct the style of their prayer-books.  In reading the absolution, they are very careful to say 'Pardons and Absolves';  but in the prayer for the Royal Family, it must be endue'um, enrich'um, prosper'um, and bring'um.  Then in their sermons they use all the modern terms of art, 'sham, banter, mob, bubble, bully, cutting, shuffling, and palming;'  all which, and many more of the like stamp, as I have heard them often in the pulpit from such young sophisters, so have I read them in some of 'those sermons that have made most noise of late.'  The design, it seems, is to avoid the dreadful imputation of pedantry;  to show us that they know the town, understand men and manners, and have not been poring upon old unfashionable books in the university.
       I should be glad to see you the instrument of introducing into our style that simplicity which is the best and truest ornament of most things in life, which the politer ages always aimed at in their building and dress, simplex munditiis,as well as their productions of wit.  It is manifest that all new affected modes of speech, whether borrowed from the court, the town, or the theatre, are the first perishing parts in any language;  and, as I could prove by many hundred instances, have been so in ours.  The writings of Hooker, who was a country gentleman, and of Parsons the Jesuit, both in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, are in a style that, with very few allowances, would not offend any present reader, and are much more clear and intelligible than those of Sir Harry Wotton, Sir Robert Naunton, Osborn, Daniel the historian, and several others who writ later;  but being men of the court, and affecting the phrases then in fashion, they are often either not to be understood, or appear perfectly ridiculous.
       What remedies are to be applied to those evils I have not room to consider, having, I fear, already taken up most of your paper.  Besides, I think it is our office only to represent abuses, and yours to redress them.  I am with great respect, Sir, Your, etc.

      


     

Crazy About Chicago

        Leftists assume all actions have a locus of responsibility lying outside the self.  If you achieve greatly, it is because society helped you.  If you become a criminal, it is because society wronged you.  Nobody is responsible for their own actions.  But isn't a mental hospital where we put those who are not responsible for their own actions?
       Vide the case of Democratic Chicago Judge Cynthia Brim.  Since her original 1994 election, Judge Brim was the subject of five psychiatric hospitalizations.  The bar association described her as "not qualified" when her retention was on the ballot in 2000, 2006, and 2012.  Despite this, the Democratic Party still backed her reelection.  When Judge Brim was put on trial for shoving a Deputy at the Daley Center, she was found not guilty by reason of insanity.  Now subject to review by the Judicial Inquiry Board, the liberal belief that people are not responsible for their actions finds one true example in Judge Cynthia Brim. 
       Last March, Brim went on a tirade while presiding over traffic court and was asked to leave the courthouse.  The next day she attempted to complain to the Judicial Inquiry Board about another judge who took too much sick leave.  After throwing her keys to the courthouse on the floor of the office as a protest, the Deputy tried to ascertain who Brim was and how she got the courthouse keys when Brim shoved him.  Enter Judge Pamela Hill-Veal, Brim's cousin.  The second judge came to the jail to secure the release of the first.  Hill-Veal claimed that Brim had no history of mental illness.  Do you have to be crazy to be a judge in Chicago?  Apparently it doesn't hurt.
 

Primrose League v. Steve King

Karl Rove's American Crossroads is starting something it calls the Conservative Victory Project.  Petasus tip to RightScoop.  The Conservative Victory Project, or as Estase would call it, the Socially Liberal Republican Victory Project, has picked as their first target Iowa Congressman Steve King, who committed the unforgivable sin of crossing Rove by supporting Missouri Senate candidate Todd Akin. 

Karl Rove is the physical embodiment of what Estase calls the Primrose League, the amoral wing of the Republican Party.  Primrose Leaguers want candidates who run only on economics.  The Primrose League bristles at the suggestion of running on social issues, especially abortion.  As dumb as Todd Akin's theories about conception and rape were, those were not really what the Primrose League objected to, but Akin's conviction that abortion is wrong.  Not impolite, not unpopular, but wrong.  As a matter of fact, Primrose Leaguers don't like the idea of right and wrong in general.  They are often Hegelians, in the sense that winning is more important than morality.  Hegelians at the end of the day are often Machiavellians as well.  And here you have Karl Rove, the Bush Machiavelli.  He sees himself as the sachem, dictating to the bumpkins on how they need to run for office.  It's Karl's party, not yours!  Rove has ruled Steve King can't win, so who are you mere mortals to question him?

Love and Enlightenment

1 COR
(4-10)
Charity is patient, is kind:  charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely;  is not puffed up; Is not ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil;  Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth;  Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.  Charity never falleth away:  whether prophecies shall be made void or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed.  For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.  But when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away.

(11-13)
When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child.  But when I became a man, I put away the things of a child.  We see now through a glass in a dark manner;  but then face to face.  Now I know in part;  but then I shall know even as I am known.  And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three:  but the greatest of these is charity.

Douay-Rhiems Bible

The Conservative Case for Black History Month

I just saw a conservative quidnunc argue against the whole idea of Black History Month as being anti-American.  While such tendencies are always to be guarded against, the fact of the matter is that the Republican Party was the party of black people until FDR stole them away.  Witness Governor Charles Deneen, who was one of the few people who stood up for black people in the mess that was the 1908 Springfield Race War.  One may read "Something So Horrible" by Carole Merritt at www.alplm.org/events/aa_history/Race_Riot_Catalog_2008.pdf.  The fact of the matter is that white Americans do have a history to answer to, and as one who holds up the mantle of Charles Sumner, Estase is hardly going to pretend that black people have not been abused.  Conservatives should celebrate Black History Month, proud that it has often been Republicans who stood up for blacks.

Update:  Estase recommends www.nationalblackprolifeunion.com for blacks who recognize the sanctity of human life.

The Fifth Column: Giving to the Church (State)

The Fifth Column: Giving to the Church (State)Super point.

Tu Quoque

Several caveats must be stated aforehand with regards to this story.  One, Estase's partner first heard this story on CNN, hardly the friend of Catholicism.  Two, a Google search led to a write up on the athiest channel of Patheos by Hemant Mehta, who is apparently still burned up by the Indian lady who died in Ireland due to the pro-life laws there.  With these caveats stated, the case of the Scranton hospitals run by Sister Keenan and the Catholic Health Association show that Catholic hospitals are often run with scant regard to Catholic human life ethics.

       The facts are supposedly as follows.  Lori Stodghill, a third trimester mother brought to St. Thomas More Hospital in Colorado, died of a heart attack, and her doctor was responsible for the death of the twins Stodghill carried because he failed to perform a caesarian section.  The wrongful death lawsuit filed by Mr. Stodghill was argued against by the hospital's parent company, Catholic Health Initiatives, on the grounds that fetuses are not people, a clear disavowal of everything Catholics believe about pregnancy.  While many would say this is merely legal cynicism, the obvious ramification is that Catholic Health Initiatives has opened the door for pro-aborts to claim (as they are already doing) that Catholics do not really believe that fetuses are people.  Estase will wait for further coverage of this story, but is not sanguine that the Colorado case will do anything but hurt the pro-life position of the Church, and will only bolster the pro-abort argument that conscience rights for Catholics are not warranted.

Estase has been thinking about the 1908 Springfield Race War again. A might-read is James Krohe's Summer of Rage. The horrible thing about this event is the impunity with which it met in the courtroom, as none of the perpetrators were convicted.  Such will probably also be the case with New Jersey Senator Bob Menendez, who petasus-tip to Riehl World View, engages in sex tourism for underage girls in the Dominican Republic.  I am sure that CNN, in between coverage of The Assault Weapons Ban of 2013, will make no mention of this scandal.  Incidentally, Estase is starting to think conspiratorially.  Most Congressmen are Republican right now.  But on C-SPAN the other day, it turned out that both Aurora, Colorado and Sandy Hook, Connecticut are both served by Democratic Congressmen.  Hmmm. . . almost like whoever planned these attacks did so with an eye to having gun-control friendly Congresswomen speak on behalf of the already-named bill (which, if the truth be told, was probably already written and on the shelf!).

Update:  As of February 4th, LifeNews.com reports that after consultation with three Colorado bishops, Catholic Health Initiatives has decided not to use the argument that fetuses are not persons.  This is good news, but one wonders why it took the intervention of the episcopate to convince Catholic Health Initiatives not to make this utterly amoral argument.

Church Thermometer, from the Tatler

"The Church Thermometer, which I am now to treat of, is supposed to have been invented in the reign of Henry the Eighth, about the time when that religious prince put some to death for owning the Pope's supremacy, and others for denying transubstantiation.  I do not find, however, any great use of this instrument until it fell into the hands of a learned and vigilant priest or minister, for he frequently wrote himself both one and the other, who was sometime vicar of Bray.  This gentleman lived in his vicarage to a good old age, and, after having seen several successions of his neighboring clergy either burned or banished, departed this life with the satisfaction of having never deserted his flock, and died vicar of Bray.  As this glass was first designed to calculate the different degrees of heat in religion, as it raged in Popery, or as it cooled and grew temperate in the Reformation;  it was marked at several distances, after the manner our ordinary thermometer is to this day, viz. 'Extreme Hot, Sultry Hot, Very Hot, Hot, Warm, Temperate, Cold, Just Freezing, Frost, Hard Frost, Great Frost, Extreme Cold.'

       It is well known that Toricellius, the inventor of the common weather-glass, made the experiment in a long tube which held thirty-two feet of water;  and that a more modern virtuoso finding such a machine altogether unwieldy and useless, and considering that thirty-two inches of quicksilver weighed as much as so many feet of water in a tube of the same circumference, invented that sizeable instrument which is now in use.  After this manner, that I might adapt the thermometer I am now speaking of to the present constitution of our Church, as divided into High and Low, I have made some necessary variations both in the tube and the fluid it contains.  In the first place, I ordered a tube to be cast in a planetary hour, and took care to seal it hermetically when the sun was in conjunction with Saturn.  I then took the proper precautions about the fluid, which is a compound of two very different liquors;  one of them a spirit drawn out of a strong heady wine;  the other a particular sort of rock-water, colder than ice and clearer than crystal.  The spirit is of a red fiery colour, and so very apt to ferment that unless it be mingled with a proportion of the water, or pent up very close, it will burst the vessel that holds it, and fly up in fume and smoke.  The water, on the contrary, is of such a subtle piercing cold, that unless it be mingled with a proportion of the spirits, it will sink almost through everything that it is put into;  and seems to be of the same nature as the water mentioned by Quintus Curtius, which, says the historian, could be contained in nothing but the hoof, or, as the Oxford manuscript has it, in the skull of an ass.  The thermometer is marked according to the following figure;  which I set down at length, not only to give my reader a clear idea of it, but also to fill up my paper.
                                                   Ignorance
                                                    Persecution
                                                   Wrath
                                                    Zeal
                                                    CHURCH
                                                    Moderation
                                                    Lukewarmness
                                                    Infidelity
                                                    Ignorance
       The reader will observe that the Church is placed in the middle point of the glass, between Zeal and Moderation;  the situation in which she always flourishes, and in which every good Englishman wishes her who is a friend to the constitution of his country.  However, when it mounts to Zeal, it is not amiss;  and when it sinks to Moderation, is still in a most admirable temper.  The worst of it is, that when once it begins to rise it still has an inclination to ascend;  insomuch that it is apt to climb up from Zeal to Wrath, and from Wrath to Persecution, which always ends in Ignorance, and very often proceeds from it.  In the same manner, it frequently takes its progress through the lower half of the glass;  and when it has a tendency to fall, will gradually descend from Moderation to Lukewarmness, and from Lukewarmness to Infidelity, which very often terminates in Ignorance, and always proceeds from it.
       It is a common observation that the ordinary thermometer will be affected by the breathing of people who are in the same room where it stands;  and indeed it is almost incredible to concieve how the glass I am now describing will fall by the breath of a multitude crying 'Popery;' or on the contrary, how it will rise when the same multitude, as it sometimes happens, cry out in the same breath: 'The Church is in danger.'
       As soon as I had finished this my glass, and adjusted it to the above-mentioned scale of religion, that I might make proper experiments with it, I carried it under my cloak to several coffee-houses and other places of resort about this great city.  At Saint James's coffee-house the liquor stood at moderation;  but at Will's, to my great surprise, it subsided to the very lowest mark on the glass.  At the Grecian it mounted but just one point higher;  at the Rainbow it still ascended two degrees;  Child's fetched it up to Zeal, and other adjacent coffee-houses to Wrath.
       It fell in the lower half of the glass as I went further into the city, until at length it settled at Moderation, where it continued all the time I stayed about the Exchange, as also while I passed by the Bank.  And here I cannot but take notice that though the whole course of my remarks I never observed my glass to rise at the same time that the stocks did.
    To complete the experiment, I prevailed upon a friend of mine, who works under me in the occult sciences, to make a progress with my glass through the whole island of Great Britain;  and after his return, to present me with a register of his observations.  I guessed beforehand at the temper of several places he passed through, by the characters they have had time out of mind.  Thus that facetious divine, Doctor Fuller, speaking of the town of Banbury near a hundred years ago, tells us it was a place famous for cakes and zeal, which I find by my glass is true to this day as to the latter part of this description;  though I must confess, it is not in the same reputation for cakes that it was in the time of that learned author;  and thus of other places.  In short, I have by now by me digested in an alphabetical order all the counties, corporations, and boroughs in Great Britain, with their respective tempers, as they stand related to my thermometer.  But this I shall keep to myself, because I would by no means do anything that may seem to influence any ensuing elections.
       The point of doctrine which I would propagate by this my invention, is the same which was long ago advanced by that able teacher Horace, out of whom I have taken my text for this discourse:  we should be careful not to overshoot ourselves in the pursuits even of virtue.  Whether zeal or moderation be the point we aim at, let us keep fire out of the one, and frost out of the other.  But alas!  the world is too wise to want such a precaution.  The terms High-church and Low-church, as commonly used, do not so much denote a principle, as they distinguish a party.  They are like words of battle, that have nothing to do with their original signification;  but are only given out to keep a body of men together, and to let them know friends from enemies.
       I must confess I have considered, with some little attention, the influence which the opinions of these great national sects have upon their practice;  and do look upon it as one of the unaccountable things of our times, that multitudes of honest gentlemen, who entirely agree in their lives, should take it in their heads to differ in religion."

Looking for the Himmler

The one person in the entire Third Reich who was a more loathsome, vile monster than Hitler himself was Heinrich Himmler, the onetime chicken farmer who headed up the S.S., an organization of war criminals, none of whom should have been suffered to draw breath at the end of the war.  So one asks, if Obama were Hitler, who would be his Heinrich Himmler, the person who outdoes the chief himself in pure villainy?  I have some candidates.

1)George Soros   A billionaire who funds repulsive left-wing causes, Soros already has engaged in many deeds worthy of Bond villain Ernst Blofeld, including making himself wealthy at the expense of the British people by currency speculation.

2)Kathleen Sebelius  It is not terribly surprising when the denizen of a Marxist black church violates the conscience rights of Catholics and other Christians, but it is truly bizarre when a supposed Catholic is the architect of that policy.  Sebelius, before bringing her dubious services to the Federal government, acted as the promoter of abortion as Governor of Kansas.  Perhaps more like Judas Iscariot than Heinrich Himmler, Kathleen Sebelius is one of a number of Democrats who turned on their own.

3)Harry Reid  As Senate Majority Leader, this soft-spoken Nevada Mormon has been waging a vicious and highly partisan campaign to back Obama spending in the Senate.  Not above using false accusations of racism against Republicans, even other Democrats like Kent Conrad who wish to pass a budget cannot get any traction with Reid, who was also one of the advocates of turning tail and running with regards to the Iraq War.

I am sure that many are fuming at the comparison of Obama with Hitler.  If so, then tough, because a long line of liberals starting with Linda Ronstadt and progressing through Michael Moore pioneered the art of comparing Bush 43 with Hitler.  Obama, unlike Bush 43, has chosen to make freedom of conscience a thing of the past, so in that respect anyway, Obama is a tyrant.

With a tip of the petasus to Creative Minority Report, NPR's Louise Schiavone compares the Catholic League, Catholicism's version of the Jewish Anti-Defamation League, to the KKK.  This only a couple of months after "Wait, Wait. . . Don't Tell Me" refers to Papa Ratzinger as a gay rights icon.

Kindness of Providence

"So little do we see before us in the world and so much reason have we to depend cheerfully upon the great Maker of the world, that He does not leave His creatures so absolutely destitute but that in the worst circumstances they have always something to be thankful for, and sometimes are nearer their deliverance than they imagine;  nay, are even brought to their deliverance by the means by which they seem to be brought to their destruction."Robinson Crusoe,Daniel Defoe, Bantam ed., p.227.

Premonitions

"Let no man despise the secret hints and notices of danger, which sometimes are given him, when he may think there is no possibility of its being real.  That such hints and notices are given us, I believe few that have made any observations of things can deny;  that they are certain discoveries of an invisible world, and a converse of spirits,we cannot doubt;  and if the tendency of them seems to be to warn us of danger, why should we not suppose they are from some friendly agent, whether supreme, or inferior and subordinate, is not the question;  and that they are given for our good?" Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe, Bantam ed., p.225.

Meditation on Human Potential

"This frequently gave me occasion to observe, and that with wonder, that however it had pleased God, in His providence, and in the government of the works of His hands, to take from so great a part of the world of His creatures the best uses to which their faculties and the powers of their souls are adapted, yet that He has bestowed upon them the same powers, the same reason, the same affections, the same sentiments of kindness and obligation, the same passions and resentments of wrongs, the same sense of gratitude, sincerity, fidelity, and all the capacities of doing good and receiving good that He has given to us;  and that when He pleases to offer to them occasions of exerting these, they are as ready, nay, more ready to apply them to the right uses for which they were bestowed than we are.  And this made me very melancholy sometimes, in reflecting, as the several occasions presented, how mean a use we make of all these, even though we have these powers enlightened by the great lamp of instruction, the Spirit of God, and by the knowledge of His Word, added to our understanding;  and why it has pleased God to hide the like saving knowledge from so many millions of souls, who, if I might judge by this poor savage, would make a much better use of it than we did."  Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe, Bantam ed., p187-88.

Limits of Natural Reason

"'Well, well," says he, mighty affectionately, "that well;  so you, I, Devil, all wicked, all preserve, repent, God pardon all.'  Here  I was run down again by him {Friday} to the last degree, and it was a testimony to me how the mere notions of nature, though they will guide reasonable creatures to the knowledge of a God, and of a worship or homage due to the supreme being of a God, as the consequence of our nature, yet nothing but Divine revelation can form the knowledge of Jesus Christ and of a redemption purchased for us, of a Mediator of the new covenant, and of an Intercessor at the footstool of God's throne."Robinson Crusoe ,Daniel Defoe, Bantam ed., p. 96.

Bullying the Church

Liberal Canadian education minister Laurel Broten announces that Catholic schools may not teach abortion is wrong without violating anti-bullying Bill 13.  Broten claims abortion is a settled issue, and claims that opposing abortion is a form of misogyny.  Estase thinks it should only be about ten years before it becomes illegal to oppose abortion in the United States.

Update:  Facebook suspends comedianne Victoria Jackson for posting a grisly abortion photo.  This brings Estase back to a point he has made before.  Why is it OK for ASPCA to use footage of abused animals to raise money, but the same television networks that make it possible for ASPCA to use photos of sick and mutilated animals would NEVER, NEVER allow a pro-life advertisment to use pictures of mutilated fetuses.  Why the double standard?  Also, Robert Spencer's engagement to speak at a Catholic college canned by local Bishop of Worcester McManus at behest of Boston Globe's Lisa Wangness.  Apparently, all one needs to do to get a Catholic bishop to cave is make a few phone calls accusing some one of Islamophobia.  When will the Saudis allow a Catholic Church to be built there? Or any other Muslim country, for that matter?

Fighting Irish Thomas: Dick Durbin, Herod, and Pilate: my Feast of the Holy Innocents letter

Fighting Irish Thomas: Dick Durbin, Herod, and Pilate: my Feast of the Holy Innocents letter

A Dangerous Satire

Petasus tip to Northern Illinois University www.lincoln.lib.niu.edu for this writing which got Lincoln challenged to a duel with Illinois State Auditor James Shields.  So, without any further ado, here is "A Letter from the Lost Townships."

"August 27, 1842
Dear Mr. Printer:  I see you printed that long letter I sent you a spell ago.  I'm quite encouraged by it and can't keep from writing again.  I think the printing of my letters will be a good thing all round--it will give me the benefit of being known by the world, and give the world the advantage of knowing what's going on in the Lost Townships, and give your paper respectability besides.  So here comes another.  Yesterday afternoon I hurried through cleaning up the dinner dishes and stepped over to Neighbor S------ to see if his wife Peggy was as well as might be expected and hear what they called the baby.  Well, when I got there and just turned round the corner of his log cabin, there he was setting on the doorstep reading a newspaper.  "How are you, Jeff?" says I.  He sorter started when he heard me, for he hadn't seen me before.  "Why," says he, "I'm as mad as the devil, Aunt 'Becca!"  "What about," says I; "ain't its hair the right color?  None of that nonsense, Jeff;  there ain't an honester woman in the Lost Townships than"---"Than who?"  says he;  "what the mischief are you about?"  I began to see I was running the wrong trail and so says I "Oh!  nothing:  I guess I was mistaken a little that's all.  But what is it you're mad about?"

       "Why," says he, "I've been tugging ever since harvest, getting out wheat and hauling it to the river to raise State Bank paper enough to pay my tax this year and a little school debt I owe;  and now, just as I've got it, here I open this infernal Extra Register, expecting to find it full of 'Glorious Democratic Victories' and 'High Comb'd Cocks,' when lo and behold!  I find a set of fellows, calling themselves officers of the State, have forbidden the tax collectors and school commissioners to receive State paper at all;  and so here it is dead on my hands.  I don't now believe all the plunder I've got will fetch ready cash enough to pay my taxes and that school debt."

       I was a good deal thunderstruck myself;  for that was the first I had heard of the proclamation, and my old man was pretty much in the same fix with Jeff.  We both stood a moment staring at one another without knowing what to say.  At last says I, "Mr. S-----, let me look at that paper."  He handed it to me, when I read the proclamation over.

       "There now," says he, "did you ever see such a piece of impudence and imposition as that?"  I saw Jeff was in a good tune for saying some ill-natured things, and so I tho't I would argue a little on the contrary side, and make him rant a spell if I could.  "Why, " says I, looking s dignified and thoughtful as I could, "it seems pretty tough, to be sure, to have to raise silver where there's none to be raised;  but then, you see, 'there will be danger of loss' if it ain't done."  "Loss! damnation!" says he "I defy Daniel Webster, I defy King Solomon, I defy the world--I defy--I defy--yes, I defy even you, Aunt 'Becca, to show how the people can lose anything by paying their taxes in State paper." 

       "Well," says I, "you see what the officers of State say about it, and they are a desarnin' set of men.  But," says I, "I guess you're mistaken about what the proclamation says.  It don't say the people will lose anything by the paper money being taken for taxes.  It only says 'there will be danger of loss;'  and though it is tolerable plain that the people can't lose by paying their taxes in something they can get easier than silver instead of having to pay silver;  and though it's just as plain that the State can't lose by taking State Bank paper, however low it may be, while she owes the bank more than the whole revenue, and can pay that paper over on her debt, dollar for dollar;  --still there is danger, of loss to the 'officers of State;'  and you know, Jeff, we can't get along without officers of State."

       "Damn officers of State!" says he.  Says I, "You know I belong to the meetin', and swearin' hurts my feelings."  "Beg pardon, Aunt 'Becca," says he;  "but I do say it's enough to make Dr. Goddard swear, to have tax to pay in silver, for nothing only that Ford may get his two thousand a year, and Shields his twenty-four hundred a year, and Carpenter his sixteen hundred a year, and all without 'danger of loss' by taking it in State paper.  Yes, yes;  it's plain enough now what these officers of State mean by 'danger of loss.'  Wash, I s'pose, actually lost fifteen hundred dollars out of the three thousand that two of these 'officers of State' let him steal from the treasury, by being compelled to take it in State paper.  Wonder if we don't have a proclamation before long, commanding us to make up this loss to Wash in silver."

       And so he went on till his breath run out, and he had to stop.  I couldn't think of anything to say just then, and so I begun to look over the paper again.  "Ay!  here's another proclamation, or something like it."  "Another?" says Jeff, "and whose egg is it, pray?"  I looked to the bottom of it, and read aloud, "Your obedient servant, James Shields, Auditor."  "Aha!"  says Jeff ('one of them same three fellows again.  Well, read it, and let's hear what of it.')  I read on till where it says 'The object of this measure is to suspend the collection of the revenue for the current year.'  "Now stop, now stop!"  says he;  "that's a lie already, and I don't want to hear of it."  "Oh! may be not," says I.
  "I say it is--a--lie.  Suspend the collection, indeed!  Will the collectors, that have taken their oaths to make the collection, dare to suspend it?  Is there anything in law requiring them to perjure themselves at the bidding of James Shields?"  "Will the greedy gullet of the penitentiary be satisfied with swallowing him instead of all of them if they should venture to obey him?  And would he not discover some 'danger of loss,' and be off about the time it came to taking their places?"  "And suppose the people attempt to suspend, by refusing to pay;  what then?  The collectors would just jerk up their horses and cows, and the like and sell them to the highest bidder for silver in hand, without valuation or redemption.  Why, Shields didn't believe that story himself--it was never meant for the truth.  If it was true why was it not writ till five days after the proclamation?  Why didn't Carlin and Carpenter sign it as well as Shields?  Answer me that Aunt 'Becca.  I say it's a lie, and not a well told one at that.  It grins out like a copper dollar.  Shields is a fool as well as a liar.  With him truth is out of the question;  and as for getting a good, bright, passable lie out of him, you might as well try to strike fire from a cake of tallow.  I stick to it, it's all an infernal Whig lie!"  "A Whig lie!  Highty tighty!"  "Yes a Whig lie;  and it's just like everything the cursed British Whigs do.  First they'll do some devilment, and there they'll tell a lie to hide it.  And they don't care how plain a lie it is:  they think they can cram any sort of a one down the throats of the ignorant Locofocos, as they call the Democrats."  "Why, Jeff, you're crazy;  you don't mean to say Shields is a Whig!"  "Yes, I do."  "Why, look here!  the proclamation is in your own Democratic paper, as you call it."  "I know it;  and what of that?  They only printed it to let us Democrats see the deviltry the Whigs are at."  "Well, but Shields is the Auditor of this Loco---I mean this Democratic State."  "So he is, and Tyler appointed him to office."  "Tyler appointed him?"  "Yes (if you must chaw it over), Tyler appointed him:  or, if it wasn't him, it was old Granny Harrison, and that's all one.  I tell you, Aunt 'Becca, there's no mistake about his being a Whig.  Why his very looks shows it;  everything about him shows it;  if I was deaf and blind I could tell him by the smell.  I seed him when I was down in Springfield last winter.  They had a sort of gatherin' there one night among the grandees, they called a fair.  All the gals about town was there, and all the handsome widows and married women, finickin' about trying to look like gals, tied as tight in the middle, and puffed out at both ends, like bundles of fodder that hadn't been stacked yet, but wanted stackin' pretty bad.  And then they had tables all around the house kivered over with caps and pincushions and ten thousand such little knic-knacks, tryin' to sell 'em to the fellows that were bowin' and scrapin' and kingeerin' about 'em.  They wouldn't let no Democrats in, for fear they'd disgust the ladies or scare the little gals, or dirty the floor.  I looked in at the window, and there was the same fellow Shields floatin' about on the air, without heft or earthly substances, just like a lot of cat fur where cats had been fighting.  He was paying his money to this one, and that one, and t'other one, and sufferin' great loss because it wasn't silver instead of State paper;  and the sweet distress he seemed to be in, -- his very features, in the ecstatic agony of his soul, spoke audibly and distinctly, 'Dear girls, it is distressin, but I cannot marry you all.  Too well I know how much you suffer;  but do, do remember, it is not my fault that I am so handsome and so interesting.'  As this last was expressed by a most exquisite contortion of his face, he seized hold of one of their hands, and squeezed, and held on to it about a quarter of an hour.  'Oh, my good fellow,' says I to myself, 'if that was one of our Democratic gals in the Lost Townships, the way you'd get a brass pin let into you would be about up to the head.'  He a Democrat!  Fiddlesticks!  I tell you, Aunt 'Becca, he's a Whig, and no mistake:  nobody but a Whig could make such a conceity dunce of himself."

       "Well," says I, "maybe he is;  but if he is, I'm mistaken the worst sort.  Maybe so, maybe so;  but if I am, I'll suffer by it;  I'll be a Democrat if it turns out that Shields is a Whig, considerin' you shall be a Whig if he turns out a Democrat."

       "A bargain, by jingoes!" says he;  "but how will we find out?"  "Why,"  says I, "we'll just write and ax the printer."  "Agreed again!" says he;  "and by thunder! if it does turn out that Shields is a Democrat, I never will. . ." "Jefferson! Jefferson!"  "What do you want, Peggy?"  "Do get through your everlasting clatter some time, and bring me a gourd of water;  the child's been crying for a drink this livelong hour."  "Let it die, then;  it may as well die for water as to be taxed to death to fatten officers of State."  Jeff run off to get the water, though, just like he hadn't been saying spiteful, for he's a raal good-hearted fellow, after all, once you get at the foundation of him.  I walked into the house, and "Why Peggy,"  says I, "I declare we like to forgot you altogether."  "Oh yes," says she,"when a body can't help themselves, everybody soon forgets 'em;  but thank God!  by day after to-morrow I shall be well enough to milk the cows, and pen the calves, and wring the contrary ones' tails for 'em, and no thanks to nobody."  "Good evening, Peggy," says I, and so I sloped, for I seed she was mad at me for making Jeff neglect her so long.  And now, Mr. Printer, will you be sure to let us know in your next paper whether Shields is a Whig or a Democrat?  I don't care about it for myself, for I know well enough how it is already;  but I want to convince Jeff.  It may do some good to let him, and others like him, know who and what these officers of State are.  It may help to send the present hypocritical set to where they belong, and to fill the places they now disgrace, with men who will do more work for less pay, and take a fewer airs while they are doing it.  It ain't sensible to think that the same men who get us into trouble will change their course;  and yet it's pretty plain if some change for the better is not made, it's not long that either Peggy or I or any of us wil have a cow left to milk, or a calf's tail to wring.
                                                              Yours truly, Rebecca

Update:  What is it about people named Colbert?  A man named Scott Colbert called a black woman "an Uncle Tom" and "an ignorant c**t" on Ignorance Central, also known as Twitter.  The dumbest part of this is that the guy said the Republican Party had a bad record on race!  Yeah, like slavery and Jim Crow were Republican creations.  Note to Scott Colbert:  Democrats created Jim Crow and Democrats tried to expand slavery in the 1850s.  Dumbass!

Restore-DC-Catholicism: Notre Dame Establishes "GLTBQ" Student Organization

Restore-DC-Catholicism: Notre Dame Establishes "GLTBQ" Student Organization
Worrysome.

Palestinian Indians and Irish Arabs

Estase's liberal friend was riffing the other day about how the so-called "Palestinian Refugees" were like the American Indians.  The main differences being Imprimis, That the Jewish people were natives of the land of Palestine:  They were not interlopers who had no history in this area.  Item, The Palestinian refugees left because they were hoping that the five-nation Arab army that entered Palestine in 1948 would exterminate the Jews of Palestine:  After all, why did the Arabs of Palestine leave?  So that the army coming in could kill indiscriminately, knowing that all the Arabs had departed.  The American Indians did not abandon the Western United States in hopes that their fellows would exterminate the homesteaders that they might later return.  Item, the governments of Jordan and Egypt could have easily assimilated the Palestinian Arabs, which they chose not to do so that there would be a large population of displaced people that Arab propaganda could then blame on those evil Israelis, who really should have been wiped out by the five nation Arab army that invaded Palestine in 1948.

My sister has a similar delusion, thinking that Palestinians are like the Irish, people whose land has been stolen by an invader.  This is absurd for much the same reason.  The Irish did not leave their country so that kindred peoples could exterminate their neighbors.  It is really funny to think of the Cromwellian English as having anything to do with Jews, as the Puritans were probably as anti-semetic as anti-Catholic.  If anyone are like the Irish, it would be the Jewish people, whose attempted extermination is worse than the 1848 potato famine.

Blago Scandal Continues

I found an interesting accusation about Chicago Tribune reporters at www.illinoispaytoplay.com/2012/11/30/chicagogate-coverup-exposed/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_campaign=feed%3A=illinoispaytoplay%2FNfhA=%29illinois+pay+to+play%29
It brings into question whether U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald is really the straight-shooter we have always thought he was, or just a corrupt underling of AG Eric Holder.

Commentarius de Prognosticis: A Warning to the President

Commentarius de Prognosticis: A Warning to the President
Estase personally hopes Jamie Foxx was kidding.  Otherwise. . .yee-yow!

Illinois: Get Out While You Can!

Life in the People's Republic of Illinois is looking to get even shittier with the proposed 5% tax on satellite TV.  I have an idea for an advertisment for people to move to Illinois.  The scene opens with a wide shot of a badly neglected section of Detroit.  The announcer says in the voice over:"Interested in getting in on the ground floor of a burgeoning liberal utopia?  You could move to Detroit, but wouldn't you prefer a state that's just escaping the bonds of fiscal discipline?"  The picture then shifts to a statue of Lincoln.  The voice over continues:" Illinois, home of the sixteenth president who saw the nation through Civil War!  The state that was home to the Sears Roebuck empire before we chased them out with anti-business legislation!  You too can pay high taxes to one of the worst managed governments in America!"  The advertisment then closes with a graphic of an anarcho-socialist style clenched fist surrounded by the words, "Illinois, Down With the Man!"

 

 

How Not to Blog

Every blogger wishes to be a virtuoso.  Estase wishes to be as a writer what Alex Lifeson of Rush is as a guitarist.  In reality, he probably, to stick with the guitar metaphor, is more like Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols.  It makes one feel better to compare oneself to the mediocrities that actually get paid for their writing, from Donna Basile on the Left to Ann Coulter on the Right.  Vapid sells.  Stupid really sells.  And when one pursues political commentary as something to do online less stupid than YouTube videos involving cats, there is little left to lose.
  
Tips to get really poor visitorship at your quidnunc: 1)Make constant reference to the Elegant Eighteenth Century.  2)Express opinions that are not popular and that do not make people happy or excited.  Opposing abortion even in cases of rape are a good example.  This will be the kind of thing that really endears you to the Primrose League.  3)Point out the moral corruption of the Terrible Twenty-first Century.  No one likes to believe that people's behavior is loathsome;  after all, liberals tend to believe that society advances over time, improving every day.  No one wants to think about why recently schoolchildren in Chicago murdered a peer by smashing his head with a 2'x4".  Follow these three tips, and you will be sure to be ignored as a quaint holdover, a bitter xenophobe who clings to God and guns.

Sad but True

Petasus tip to Steve Kellmeyer of The Fifth Column:

"The new SCOTUS will make the Warren Court look like Jerry Falwell's Ice Cream Social Club."

Letter to the Primrose League

Apparently Estase is what's wrong with the Republican Party.  Mitt Romney decided to run on economic issues, was cagey about touching any social issue, and allowed the Salon types to depict him as the ultimate selfish rich guy.  So why the Primrose League thinks I am the problem mystifies me.  My dream candidate was Rick Santorum, whom most of the party couldn't wait to kick to the curb.  But, as Disraeli said, "Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party!" And, "Damn your principles, stick to your party!"  The thing I'm wondering is why the Primrose League ran a values-free election, and is now blaming values voters for their defeat?  It kind of strikes me as unfair.  The Romneyites told us that they knew best, that they alone could win, yadda yadda yadda.  And now, it isn't their fault, that a President whose handling of the economy has been atrocious defeated a candidate who ran only on the economy.  Estase feels like he just walked into a black tie affair wearing a polyester leisure suit from 1975.  The problem is, the polyester leisure suit from 1975 is going to be all anyone can afford by 2016.

With a tip of the petasus to William Oddie at CatholicHerald.uk, one of my favorite historians apparently has clay feet.  Oddie reports that Eamon Duffy is defending a scholar named Tina Beattie, whose invitation to speak at the University of San Diego has been rescinded based on her support for gay marriage.  The thing that is either odd or not odd (depending on your opinion of Cardinal Newman) is that Duffy is quoting Newman on the importance of having heretics speak at Catholic colleges.  Mr. Oddie claims Newman was a conservative, which is 180 degrees from John Cornwell, who did a recent biography of J.H. Newman--a book I would never have read simply because the fevered mind that produced Hitler's Pope created it.  Not being a Newman scholar, I will hope Oddie is correct.  Duffy, on the other hand, created the must-read book for anyone with even a passing interest in the so-called Reformation (which might have been called the Great Religious Tinkering) in his The Stripping of the Altars.  Bravo, Mr. Oddie.