Episcopal Symbols

With the new appointment of my friend, Fr. Don, as Milwaukee's newest Auxiliary Bishop Hying, I got to wondering about all of the clothes and symbols that a Bishop must don. (Did you catch the pun-heh!) My daughter, Mary, thinks it would be a good idea if someone would make a Bishop Barbie Doll that comes with all of the many vestments. She would like a church dollhouse to go with the doll, complete with an altar, the liturgical elements and pews filled with faithful dolls at worship. Sounds like a great idea to me!






















(picture courtesy of litugical publications)

But what about all of those pontificalia, or items of attire, that Bishops wear? I began to wonder about the significance of the clothes, after all, the clothes do make the man, don't they? And now the man must strive to faithfully live up to the significance of all of the new and wonderful pontificalia of his office.

As a priest is ordained a Bishop, he takes a pectoral cross, a ring, a zuchetto, a mitre and a crozier as the symbols of his office. The pectoral cross comes from the latin, pectus, which means abreast, and it reflects the dignity of his office. The Bishop wears the cross hanging from a cord, close to his heart. Some pectoral crosses are made with relics of the true cross within them. "When putting on the pectoral cross, traditionally the bishop says, "Munire me digneris," asking the Lord for strength and protection against all evil and all enemies, and to be mindful of His passion and cross." (Fr. William Sanders, Symbols of the Office of Bishop, Catholic Education Resource Center)

The ring, worn of the fourth finger of the left hand, symbolizes the union of the bishop with his diocese, in the same way that a marriage ring symbolizes the union of husband and wife. In years past, the ring was dipped in wax to seal documents. Catholics have had a tradition of kissing the bishop's ring as a sign of reverence, and a partial indulgence was given for this act of devotion. I've never kissed a bishop's ring before, but perhaps it's time to start!

When it was the custom for a cleric's head to be tonsured, they took up the practice of wearing a zuchetto, or skull cap, to keep warm in cold and damp churches. The bishop's zuchetto is violet in color and today, out of tradition, is worn during Mass but is removed during the sanctus so that his head won't be covered in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.

The mitre is only worn during liturgy and is a symbol of the bishop's authority as head and spiritual pastor. The word "mitre" comes from the Greek meaning "turban." There are three types of mitres known as Simplex, Pritiosa and Auriphrygiata, each made of different materials and used for different types of liturgy.

Fr. William Saunders has an excellent explanation of the significance of the shape of the mitre: "In the Latin Rite, the mitre originally was a headband with a veil, and eventually appeared more in its present triangular form pointing upward with two infulae or fans (two strips of cloth hanging from behind). Some suggest that the infulae originated from the sweatband that Greek athletes wore, which was wrapped around the forehead, tied behind the head in a knot with the two ends hanging down the back; since the victorious athlete was crowned with a laurel wreath, the whole headdress soon was seen as a sign of victory. The mitre took on a similar symbolic meaning. Such symbolism arises from St. Paul's analogy: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on a merited crown awaits me..." (2 Tm 4:7-8). Surely, the bishop should be leading his flock in the race to salvation to final victory in Heaven."

As shepherd of the flock, the crozier is carried during liturgical ceremonies. I like Fr. William Saunders explanation of the meaning behind the crozier: "St. Isidore explained that a newly consecrated bishop received the crozier "that he may govern and correct those below him or to offer support to the weakest of the weak." As one of those "weakest of the weak" I will look to Bishop Hying's crozier as a symbol of great support.

Finally, although it is not part of his pontificalia, the coat of arms is a very significant part of the episcopacy. The purpose of the coat of arms is to identify the bishop and his diocese. "Each coat of arms is personally designed by the bishop upon his nomination and includes his ethnic origin, previous service, devotions and interest. It is adorned with a shield, a galero(hat), tassels, cross, mitre, crozier, mantle and a motto." (Bishop's Insignias) Bishop Hying's motto is "Love never fails." To see Bishop Hying's coat of arms and learn about the significance behind his symbols, visit the Archdiocese of Milwaukee website here. Please keep Bishop Hying in your prayers as he prepares for his day of ordination which will be on July 20th.

Prayer (from Bishop's Insignias)

Lord Jesus Christ, you sent your Apostles to proclaim the Good News with Peter at their head and you strengthened them with the Holy Spirit. Remind us that our bishops are appointed by that same Spirit and are the successors of the Apostles as Pastors of Souls. Together with the Pope and under his authority they have been sent throughout the world to continue your work. Help our bishop to teach all members of his diocese, to sanctify them in the truth, and to give them your nourishment. Make us obey his teachings and love him as the Church obeys and loves you. May we remain united to him, growing in faith and love, and attain eternal life with you. Amen.

For a thorough listing of all Roman Catholic Vestments, visit the Catholic Doors Ministry.

Every Creature Under Heaven-A Guest Post by John Howard

I am delighted and overjoyed to share the words of my young friend and spiritual son from England, John Howard, who is just beginning his seminary career. Enjoy and learn from his words and then, please keep him in your prayers as he works and studies towards a life of service in the Church as a servant priest.















On Sundays and during vacation, I like to get to church about 40 minutes before Mass begins. No, it isn't to grab the best seat (I'm an altar-server, so seats are never an issue)! I love to use the tranquillity of the church and the presence of Jesus to meditate on the Sacred Scripture that is about to form part of the celebration. Somewhere I once read that when we attend Mass, we are fed from two tables: the table of God's Word and the table of the Eucharist. So it is vitally important that this Word is something truly alive and active in me. And it also gives me an opportunity to guess what the priest might be preaching about!

But in the last two months my spiritual director has introduced me to meditating on liturgical texts. These will never replace Scripture, but they are powerful texts and worthy of our time and love. It was St Benedict who urged us 'Let your hearts and minds be in tune with your voices'. I have begun by meditating on the Eucharistic Prayers, and especially number 4, which is my favourite. As my director explained, 'if you are going to become a priest, these prayers are the very foundation of your day... you act in persona Christi, and His words change humble bread and wine into the very presence of our friend, our brother and our redeemer, and at the same time the people are changed by the invocation of the Holy Spirit to become one body, one spirit in Christ'. As I see it, the danger is that we hear these prayers so often that the words just flow over us.

In the preface to Eucharistic Prayer 4, there is a passage which runs:-

"Countless hosts of angels stand before you to do your will; they look upon your splendour and praise you night and day.
United with them, and in the name of every creature under heaven, we too praise your glory....."

In the name of every creature under heaven! (The new translation of the missal says "giving voice to every creature under heaven"). I find that mind blowing! I'm not at Mass simply to further my own personal relationship with God, but to represent and give voice to all those who are part of God's creation, but may not have a voice to praise his glory!

Just recently Anne posted a story about her hometown and how the church there had closed because of dwindling numbers, and it is the same here in England. It bothers me that some people don't attend Mass, or appear to suggest that four times a year is more than enough! It upsets me that Catholics sometimes can't find time to offer one hour to God in a week, and, as a young person, I am in a minority in church where boredom is an over-worked excuse. In the name of every creature under heaven - I am here to represent you, to praise the glory of God, to pray for you and on your behalf. Nobody has been excluded from God's tender mercy - this particular phrase itself has scriptural roots and is found in Colossians 1:23. And then what about those who have been hurt by the Church through scandal, or those 'whose faith is known to you alone... and all who seek you with a sincere heart'?

But this liturgical text keeps on inviting me in and expanding my poor horizons, almost on a daily basis! Why stop at non-attending Catholics? Every creature under heaven! Why can't I also include those who live godless lives, those who pour scorn on the Church, those who are too ill to pray, those who force children to become soldiers, those who are destroying God's creation, those who exploit the poor, the aborted children who never had a chance to praise God's glory? And so each time I attend Mass, I try to include someone or some body of peoples that I have never prayed for before. The heavens are the limit!

If as Church, we are truly the Body of Christ, then we offer the world healing and redemption, and I can find no better way of doing this than through the sacramental re-presentation of Calvary by which we all became God's children, and so were enabled to praise his glory!

You're A Robot, Asshole! (Part 3: Rise of the Instant Gratification Class)

Let's begin this final installment with a brief summary. Man makes technology, and then man adapts and evolves under technology's watch. We are irrevocably changed by what we make, both individually and on a social level. Also keep in mind that comment I made in the first part about that school of thought that seized public education in the 80's - the "You're Special" jibber jabber.

Moving along with this idea of adaptation to our media, I want to reference something else I said, how most kids watch a lot of flashing lights and images, sensations that seize their brain with loud noises, pretty colors, and rapidly flashing objects. If we all agree that we're adapting to our media, then it should be no surprise that as a culture, we're becoming more reliant on visuals cued with sound. Movies, TV, Video Games, Internet videos - some of these have slightly different effects than other, but the central key of learning and molding through visual cues is consistent. It should be no surprise with this in mind as to why comic books are becoming a popular form of entertainment either. Those bad boys are just keeping up our sensory demands.

With the invention of smart phones and the Internet, I also mentioned how attention spans are decreasing. The advertisers have noticed as well, if any of you flip on Saturday morning cartoons anymore. Kids shows are among the worst among programs with frequent breaking for commercials.

However, this is just all in the grand change of the human brain and human society. We're keeping up with our wonderful toys. We're being programmed to keep up, and our toys, in part, our playing the role of the programmers, incorporating different software that trains us how to perceive and how to absorb information.

I discussed increased anger, frustration, and stress when technology fails us anymore (i.e. cell phone dies or Internet doesn't work), but that's just a weird side effect akin to kicking a drug habit. Those sensations are pleasing to the brain, and if they're suddenly shut off... well.... One might want to check into rehab. If you think about a global catastrophe that shuts down the Internet for a while, can you imagine how people will react? We're possibly talking about a frenzy unlike any we've ever seen. It's like turning the Containment Grid off in Ghostbusters.

Anyone want to play that "It's Magic" song now?

Continuing on, I mentioned that our technology only programs us in part. That's roughly a quarter of what plays into the human psyche. Those drunken dumb-asses in matching shirts don't proudly spout off their oral resumes merely because they have smart phones.

Remember that "You're Special" movement I was complaining about? Like religious indoctrination, this psychological theory wrapped itself around the public education system like a noose. All kids suddenly were unique and special. They were all individual stars that could shine brightly in the night sky - for doing absolutely nothing. No longer was unique-ness and individuality something to be earned and something to strive for, it was handed over. It didn't stop there, either. Eventually, public schools changed their policies to where in some schools, there were no losers in sports games and where the red pen was eliminated from grading protocol because it was too intimidating. 

Of course, we see this idea echo in other areas of society too. What do you think political correct-ness is? It's just more sensitivity bullshit wrought by the idea that each and every one of us human beings is an illumination of wonder. Pfft. Tell that that to our servicemen (and women) who have given their lives so some multinational corporation can have at foreign resources.

Oops. Did I say that out loud?

To know how people absorb information is to have the keys for making them buy into whatever ideology you want. Why do you think sex and video go so well? Not only are we fulfilling our brain's need for sensation, we're also filling a biological void for bonin'.

Advertisement has typically been more about selling a lifestyle than an actual product anyway. After all, people want lifestyles and things to dream toward, purposes they can actualize, and if advertisements can sell them the idea that they'll be sex gods by drinking Bud Light, then those folks will drink Bud Light. The dream in the 50's and 60's was a suburban home with a two car garage and a nice lawn. Who gave people that idea? 

Ford helped.

Who didn't want a two car garage? One for the man. One for the woman. Freedom. Affluence. American lifestyle. Advertisers know this works, and they've known this probably since man first organized into communities and societies. Don't believe me? Look at RELIGION.

Why do you think there are so many belief systems? Why do you think each one has its own set of eternal rewards? Someone wanted to start a way to organize and order (control) people, and they needed those eternal rewards to sweeten the deal. If that doesn't work, there's always the threat of damnation too. That one scares people into believing you. I mean, what if they were wrong to question you... You sounded so... sure of yourself.

Heading back to technology, however, we're at a very interesting time for humanity. We're reaching a point where technology is increasing so rapidly, and we're so hopelessly juiced into the machines, that we'll form a connection - a singularity. Maybe. Then again, maybe not.

When I look around at many of the people that fill Western Society, I can't say I express hope for the evolution of humanity. All these things you've read are all percolating together into one stew, molding the minds of the youth in the fashion you see them today. They're jittery, easily stressed, emotionally and physically weak husks with a self-centeredness that would make even Charlie Sheen say, "That's pretty fuckin' self-centered of you!" They're the Instant Gratification Class, where life needs to be quick, relatively easy, and in their favor.

But, of course, they're all special, unique individuals who gain their outlooks, fashion trends, self-purposes, and opinions from a strobe light box. Robots.

On some level, we're all robots. If the brain is a computer, then everything in the brain is software. Only by thinking about this, can we truly work toward achieving a potential of serious self-analysis and critical thinking about who/what we are. 

My suggestion? Go outside, bask in the summer sun, embrace the ambiance of living things surrounding you, and think about your part on this planet. Like me, like that smelly guy on the bus to work, and like your significant other, we're all just creatures living on some planet in the middle of a vast, ever-expanding universe. We're tiny in the grand scheme of things, and we do have a natural purpose.

One of the issues I feel many people have when it comes to society is fulfilling some sort of destiny or individual mission statement. Advertisements tell them to fill this void by purchasing shit from Ikea. Religions will argue one needs to fill that emptiness by donating in the silver dish they pass around every Sunday.

Doktor nOnsensical, a little nobody trapped in a quaint, White flight, Middle Class, suburban town says you were born with a natural purpose - to live. That's it. You're alive. Enjoy it. What happens when you die, or what happened before you were born is of little consequence. Do what you feel is right, enjoy being alive, and go lean against a tree and read a book every now and then. 

Trust me, reading a book is sexy. Why? Because nobody hardly does it anymore. The fewer the people who practice it, the more alluring (and SPECIAL) it is. TV won't tell you that though. They'll tell you that you'll only be awesome if you bunch the same shit the rest of the populace is buying.

Stay away from hipster-ism too. Counterculture for the sake of counterculture is just an inversion of being a consumer whore. It's still bullshit.

Have a nice afternoon.

-Dok

You're a Robot, Asshole! .... Errr... Fellow! (Part 2)

"Yo, man! Even though all these multi-millionaires were purchased from other teams around the country, I still abdicate my sense of self-worth over to them and aggrandize my ego because the team name itself is from my area!"

God, I wish they talked like that. Don't you? It would make things a little more blunt and clear, and we could move on to another conversation without having pointless arguments over whose local team is superior.

Unfortunately, this will never happen. Many sports fans, like many fans of really any genre, interest, or hobby (same goes for religion, political association, etc.), really don't know why they like what they do. Similar to those Applejacks cereal commercials from the 90s, they just "like it".

I think this robotic mindset was best expressed in George A. Romero's 'Dawn of the Dead' from 1978. In it, Fran says to her companions, while they stare out at a wall of zombies pounding against the glass, trying to get into the mall, "They're still here."

She's referring to the fact that, even after the companions locked the doors to the shopping mall and surrounded the entrances with trucks, the zombies still crawled under the vehicles and creeped around to get at the doors, where they restlessly claw and pound the glass.

"They're after us. They know we're still in here," Stephen, her lover says.

"They're after the place. They don't know why, they just remember - remember that they want to be in here," Peter butts in ominously, correcting Stephen's faulty assumption.

Like zombies, we too don't know why and just remember. I said last time that we do it because we're trained to do it. At some point in our little lives, a piece of software (software can be any idea, civic manner, interest, trend, religious indoctrination, partisanship, etc.) is programmed into our hardware (brains). There can be counter-software that comes into play that knocks the original programming out of sync, and there also are more powerful ways of programming than others. We'll get into those at some point.

When that software settles, whatever it pertains to begins to take effect and mold us a little bit. If we experienced that bit of knowledge with the right stimuli (something pleasing or warm-feeling), then that software has added impact. For many kids, teens and even adults, this can be something as simple as needing to go out and buy a certain designer shirt because the flashing lights on the screen relayed this mystique of acceptance, joy, friendship, and sex. Light beer commercials do it all the time, even though there are far darker, stronger, and therefore more manly beers on the market. Right? Don't we normally associate strength and power with masculinity?

Not lately. Gender roles are changing. Thanks in part to advertising.

If you drink this beer, you'll be able to SCORE with this chick.

ANYWAY-

Back in the 60's, a man named Marshall McLuhan bashed Western Society in the face with a little book about media and mass communication. Several little books, actually. He dove into how the human brain reacts to each particular media, discussing how it absorbs information and how the medium itself can fundamentally change the way the brain works. "The medium is the message," is a common slogan tossed about from his work, without many of its users really knowing the depth of what it means.

In it, McLuhan discusses how we change media, and then inevitably how media changes us. One of his first examples to express this idea was the lightbulb. The lightbulb has no content that it conveys to us, per say, but it does influence us. With the invention of the lightbulb, man could do more at different hours of the day and in the darkest of places. It revolutionized the way we exist as a species and our productivity, and society adapted to it, building around it.

That's only in the beginning of the book. From there, it delves into "hot" and "cold" media, which is reflective of how different forms stimulate the senses, engaging the audience in different ways. McLuhan also posits a depressing, dystopian future, but that's for self-exploration. It's not really the basis I'm looking for in this particular discussion.

YET. (Cue ominous, spooky overtones.)

What I want to focus on first is that lightbulb. With that argument McLuhan was trying to make, he was also trying to convey how content is seemingly needless. I would beg to differ, and I can cite tons of examples as to why, but that's for Part 3. For now, I want to focus on the idea that mediums manipulate society and mold it into something else.

Within the last few decades, I've noticed a lot of older people commenting on how different and strange the youth is - how attached they are to technology and how egocentric it's making these (us) young folks. Even amongst our mini-generations, there's a bit of a difference developing betwixt the kids who grew up in the early 90's and the boys and girls graduating high school right now.

With McLuhan in mind, it can be argued that our technology and media is mutating us into something different, into a species that has been altered by its own creations. Frankenstein builds a monster, and he is forever changed by it.

Most people get their media off of screens with flashing lights. They are stimulated by these screens in multiple ways. Sights. Sounds. Colors. All of these sensations are swirling about and pleasing the brain with wonderful arrays of stimuli saturating our gray matter in ways we can't even fathom.

The colors, Duke! THE COLORS!

And this stimulation happens all the time. We watch movies, TV, play video games, and surf the web all day long. The Internet, in itself, is a milestone in that not only do we have TVs, and blu-ray players, and sound systems all over our house, now we have this crazy link through a fiber cable that connects with the world entire! Everything we could have ever wanted - right at our fingertips.

As God is my witness, my senses will never be DEPRIVED AGAIN! Scarlett O'Hara said something like that, right?

Think about smart phones. Not only is that infinite access readily available, it's portable. And what does it do to us?

Ever have your i-Pod crash on you, and you lose all your tunes (something in the ball park of several thousand songs). Then, you have to spend hours reloading all those groovy tunes in before you can take that baby with you again on long car trips. Ever notice how angry and impatient you get? How stressed you feel? How it gnaws at you?

You're texting with someone, and you have a heated conversation, and they take several minutes to reply. Don't those several minutes feel like an eternity of seething frustration and anger? Each passing second just makes you angrier and more likely to "Hulk-out".

If you answered yes to this, or if you have any similar examples where an insane amount of stress and frustration overwhelms you when something doesn't happen quickly, technology has already changed you. It's gotten us all - Doktor nOnsensical himself included.

Chew on that tonight, and come back tomorrow where I wrap everything into a neat little package that I gave its own special label.

You're a Robot, Asshole!
Part 3: Rise of the Instant Gratification Class

Thanks for reading. Seriously. I appreciate it.
-Dok

You're a Robot, Asshole! (Part 1)

I look at the people around me quite often and wonder what goes on in their little heads. Many of the males in my quaint, suburban, Middle Class neighborhood huff, puff, and beat their chests repeatedly throughout the day, spouting off oral resumes regarding how "awesome" they are. The chicks do it too. It seems, everyone does it.

I used to as well. I can't deny that. Then I woke up. A hard wake-up - the kind of feeling that someone dumped a bunch of cold water on me in my drug-induced slumber.

I remember back in Middle School our district would spend thousands upon thousands of dollars to hire this husband/wife asshole team to speak at our school. These massive assemblies incorporated the whole mess of kids all at once, and they revolved around one, life-changing theme. "You're special," these two paid speakers would exclaim over and over again. "Each one of you is a unique individual with his/her own glimmering moment ahead in life."

Really? Each one of us? That chubby marshmallow over there picking his nose and eating his boogers? Is he special? That other fellow next to him with all the name brand clothing, spiked hair, and sticker still on his baseball cap? Him too? What about Suzie? She gives great hand jobs she learned about from television. We think she's special, but the others - are you sure?

They, being the husband/wife asshole team, were sure, and for all the generations conceived that grew up in the 80s and beyond, a weird sentiment would settle into all of our brains. We were all unique, special, twinkling stars, and we deserved everything the world had to offer. For the rest of our lives this mentality would percolate in our puny brains and build up that ego, that brand of self-centered importance that led to many an average Joe spouting off his oral resume drunkenly at a public setting.

The ironic twist to this was that it wasn't just one or two people. There were a lot of "average Joes" proclaiming to the Heavens their water-chugging feats (I call it "water", they call it "light beer"). They all wore the same clothes. They all had the same interests. Their customs and manners of greeting each other, while revolving around unique statements within their genre, were all the same. Was there some kind of factory that manufactured these folks somewhere? What about the other social niches and social groups? Was there a factory for them too? While they were separate from these "average Joes", they still had their own tribal codes, ethics, and interests.

When one stumbles around an Ikea, takes a moment to view the sights, and realizes that most people are dressed the same and have the same haircuts, that person should ask him/herself one simple question: "What the fuck?"

While none of us knew it, when we were watching TV and movies, playing video games, and living the consumerist dream in America (when it still existed), our ideas, thoughts, interests, and dreams were shaped and formed. We were mindless bots that spaced out to flashing lights on a bright screen, opening up our heads to different meanings and realizations those flashing lights wanted to sell to us. It wasn't our fault necessarily. That's just the shape and nature of the human brain. All those social etiquettes, civic mannerisms, and ways in which we communicate are trained behavioral ticks that we often do merely because someone thinks it's "nice" or "polite". Our interests are no different. Sports fans aren't born sports fans, they're trained that way like lab animals.

Think about this for the time being, and we'll continue this discussion (you folks and I) tomorrow. I promise. Doktor nOnsensical isn't going anywhere.

The Underground World of Suburban Bar Trivia

I enjoy writing about the bar scene, no matter where I go. It's usually very active, and people are always interesting to watch. To me, sitting in a bar and just cruising through the expressions is like channel surfing on the television. There are so many programs on, so many stories, and they each have the potential for their own surprise ending.

I've written about it extensively over the years - in books, in other posts, and even for news articles from time to time. One of my more popular blog posts is a description of a local dive bar, which you can find HERE.

However, today I'd like to explore a new sub-class to the suburban bar trivia I've recently indulged in. It's a monster of a scene wholly unto itself where adrenaline and testosterone rage high, and people are either made or broken.

I'm talking, of course, about BAR TRIVIA NIGHT at one of the local joints in Crystal Lake, Illinois. I'll refrain from mentioning the bar's name, but this place has built up its own repertoire and familiar patrons, many of whom indulge this location's warm, tavern-like atmosphere to taste exquisite, micro-brew beers. In essence, this ain't your blue collar dad's tap.

It's a hipster bar. The kind of bar where one can just look around at all the young, unworn faces and tell that these early twenty-somethings are still suckling their parents for cash. They don't look haggard. They don't look tired. These people are full of life, zest, gusto, and they've got enough time in the world to pop a squat during bar trivia night in hopes of gaining a gift certificate in exchange for the most useless, yet specific of knowledge. It's questions like, "What did the top of the fire station do on the Ghostbusters Firehouse Playset?" or "What was the last road sign Walter and The Dude passed when going to toss the ringer?" that make this nerd-fest uniquely its own monster.

Week after week, those who feel they can test their might against this machine and cross swords with one another rally up in teams of unlimited number. One team always seems to have a minimum of ten people that collectively crash their heads together to score card after card in dire hopes of winning enough to throw a party.

There are few women here. The only ones I've seen are the floozy bar flies that buzz about men in hopes of trading a drink for a little neck time. Some men are obviously paying for it, but then again, these men may also still be pooling this dough from daddy's wallet.

What's interesting to note about bar trivia night is the level of competition. Nerds are scrambling and climbing over another like star-studded, stereoid-popping 80's action heroes, proverbially beating each other with their carefully cultivated pop culture know-how. The host running the program enjoys the atmosphere, swooning his in suit and feeling the intensity that he created. Perhaps this manipulation is payback for his school days, for something befallen upon him as a child?

I found myself shocked to see such ferocity from such meek-looking dudes, the kind of sassy dudes who care most about what shirt and hat combo they're going to wear to the bar on a hot Summer night. They're calm and seemingly harmless at first, just push-overs one isn't afraid of shrugging out of the way to get the barmaid's attention. Once the game begins, however, these sassy, sexually questionable members of society leap down each other's throats with the harrowing roar of a frustrated and sexually deprived ape.

Complacency is replaced with anger. What once was a chill atmosphere becomes an asylum full of gorillas engaged in a circle jerk battle to see who can unleash the biggest load.

That's the only way to describe it. Ferocious masturbation - the kind only displayed by those weirdos talk show hosts like to have on teevee. Yet, here it was, night after night at bar trivia. Veins popping out of skulls, strange, orgasmic grunts, and bellows of haunting torture as some of their hands tired from stroking so long.

Is this what suburbia night life is like amongst the new, hands-free generation of workers?

And When I Die

"And when I die, and when I'm gone, there'll be one child born in this world to carry on, to carry on." ~Blood, Sweat and Tears

No visit to my hometown would be complete without a visit to my parent's grave site in Evergreen Cemetery. The highlight for my kids is in finding the trees the grow in the middle of the road in the shaded and well-cared for burial grounds. (Who plants a tree in the middle of the road?) The highlight for me is the opportunity to share memories of my parents with my children and to gather around their headstone in family prayer.

Visiting the cemetery always prompts Paul and I to talk about what types of funerals we might like to have when our time comes to pass and how we would like to be remembered. Paul is always sure to make a somber discussion into something joyful by making the family laugh as he talks about his desire for extravagant coffins and huge gravestones with life-size statues beside them. That is so not Paul!

I can never quite understand the need to show off once we're dead; does it really matter that a body without life is surrounded by silk in the finest mahogany casket only to be placed six feet below the ground where it will rapidly decay? I heard about "green" funerals not too long ago and I've decided that I want to be "green" when I'm dead. I tell the kids to bury me in a cardboard box out in the woods somewhere and whenever they miss me, they can just go for a walk in the woods to remember and pray for me.

Paul again, forever the lighthearted one, tells the kids to gather six banana boxes from the Aldi grocery store, line them up side by side, and just put me in there. It sounds strange and makes me laugh to think of it, but actually, it's quite fitting as those sturdy boxes are practically a symbol of my life! You see, my father worked at Weyerhauser Box Factory for many years and he had a fondness for boxes. I swear we had a whole room in our basement that was filled with boxes in which he organized everything from important files to my family's childhood toys. And he always brought his groceries home in a recycled cardboard box instead of a paper or plastic bag. He was "green" long before it was fashionable to be so.

Well, you know the saying, like father, like daughter, or the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, or should I say banana? Banana boxes are my favorite means of carrying home the family groceries from the Aldi Store each week as I always lug four banana boxes from my basement to the store, fill them with nutritious foods and lug them back home. They are useful for so many other carrying jobs as well, that it's not unusual to find me carrying a banana box filled with prayer books, donation baskets and rosaries to a Roses for Our Lady Holy Hour, or setting them out for the Salvation Army Thrift Store Pick Up Truck filled with the families discarded clothing! It makes sense that the boxes that are filled with so many symbols of my life would make a suitable container for my body as it leaves this world.

But as for the funeral Mass on the other hand, that's where my desires do become extravagant. My aunt Monica was the holiest woman I have ever known. She single-handedly and joyfully raised thirteen children and ran a farm by herself after her husband suddenly died when the youngest child was still a baby. She was a lay Carmelite, active in her parish, prayed outside of abortion clinics, and kept a weekly holy hour(her kids would tease her and say "Mom, we think you're just going to a happy hour each week," to which she would reply, "Child, when I'm keeping my holy hour, I am happy!") Monica was a daily Mass attendee and frequent world traveler in her later years. She died while leaving daily Mass on one of her travels. What a beautiful way to go, having just received the Body of Christ in Holy Communion and then immediately enter into eternal communion with the Lord!

At Monica's funeral the church was packed with over 400 people who stayed in the church for nearly three hours to share the stories of her life. There were three priests who officiated and every one of them was crying. It was a beautiful and holy occasion celebrating the life of a beautiful and holy woman.

And that is how I hope to leave this earth as well; lovingly remembered at a large funeral Mass with family, friends and at least three priests who all cry for me, and then bury me in six banana boxes in the woods, preferably near Lake Michigan where my remains will always be near the glistening water and the sparkling sea glass. Then, each time my family misses me, they only need to go for a walk in the woods near the lake and search for sea glass while they pray. My spirit will always be there.



For a Good Death

O most merciful Jesus, I praise and thank Thee for Thy most bitter death, and I beseech Thee, by Thy death and by the breaking of Thy Heart, to grant me a happy death. When my soul leaves my body, may it be immediately delivered from all sin, set free from all debt, and mercifully received into eternal joy. I know, O Lord, that I ask of Thee a very great favour, and a sinner like me ought not to presume to ask it; but it is as easy to Thy goodness to forgive few or many sins. It is not, indeed, our merits, but Thy infinite mercy that procures for us even the least share of heavenly beatitude. In order to be made worthy and fit to receive this favour, grant, O good Lord, that I may now truly and completely die to the world and to myself. From this time forth, may all appear to me worthless that is not Thee. May nothing interest me but Thee alone. For Thy sake may I look on everything with contempt, and may I rejoice when I am despised for Thee. O good Jesus, may I ever be wounded with Thy most pure and fervent love; may all that is not Thee be bitter to me, and may all that is pleasing to Thee become dear to me. Be Thou, my Lord and God, dearer to me than all besides, or rather, be Thou truly all in all to me." ~Dom John of Torralba, Ancient Devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Heart of Jesus, Our Life and Resurrection

"In my little town I grew up believing God keeps his eye on us all...nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town..."
~Paul Simon














My family and I went back to my little hometown of Manitowoc, WI for my niece Melissa's wedding. Melissa was a beautiful bride and her marriage to Shawn was a joyous occasion. The weather was gorgeous after a week of steady rain. It was a lovely day. But, there was something about the day that broke my heart and marred that joy.













(Sacred Heart Parish dedicated in 1905 by Archbishop Messmer of Milwaukee, and school built 1908)

When I was growing up in the late 1960's through the early 1980's, Manitowoc was a thriving little factory town of about 40,000 people. My home parish was Sacred Heart where I attended first through sixth grade. Today, Sacred Heart Parish is no more, along with several other Catholic parishes and schools in the community where factories have shut down and the economy has long been depressed. In fact, all but three of the Catholic churches in Manitowoc have closed their doors. The community has four priests serving one parish (St. Francis of Assisi) and I'm told that the reason is because Catholics aren't going to church anymore. Why should the churches remain open if they are always nearly empty? Thankfully, one of the remaining churches is Holy Innocents parish which was built by my great-uncle, Fr. Edward Radey. It was nice to see some tangible evidence that his life's work remains alive today.













(Holy Innocents Parish built in 1933 and dedicated in 1950)

Then again, the priest shortage is another contributing issue. At the wedding reception I was telling my sister Diann about the new associate pastor at my parish. I was speaking of the blessing of having an associate pastor who includes the psalms in the daily Mass (our previous associate skipped over them) and who washes his hands before the consecration of the Mass; I know it's a little thing, but I like it. And Diann countered with, "You have two priests? That's kind of greedy, don't you think?"

I laughed at her question, but when the realization of her words sunk in, I laughed no more. At my sister's parish there is one priest who is shared by three churches and sadly, that is becoming the norm in more and more places. How hard these men must work to serve those whose faith remains and who long to praise and worship Him within the heart of the Church at their neighborhood parish. Sadly, I hear it told more and more often that daily Mass is a rarity and there are fewer weekend Masses offered at many churches. I guess I have been quite sheltered and spoiled to belong to a large parish that still has two priests, four weekend Masses and a daily 7 AM Mass as well.

As my family and I arrived home, I couldn't help but feel discouraged and defeated. I spend so much time trying to climb inside of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, to feel His love for me, but maybe that's been a waste of time. Maybe what I should be doing is trying to get inside of his head. Tonight I stood in front of my life-size picture of His Sacred Heart and asked, "What do you want? What do we have to do to keep Your Church alive and vibrant? How can we fill the pews and bring in more good and holy priests? How can we please you? What is your will?"

Waiting for His response to those difficult questions is going to take great patience and trust, after all, those churches didn't close overnight, the lack of faith that caused so many to leave the Church wasn't lost in a single event and the shortage of good and holy priests took years to develop. Patience and trust are hard to hold on to when so much emptiness seems to abound.

"Heart of Jesus, our life and resurrection, have mercy on us. In the face of every expression of death, Christ's Heart was deeply moved, and for love of the Father and mankind, his brothers and sisters, he made his life a "combat stupendous" (Roman Missal, Easter Sequence) against death. With a single word he restored physical life to Lazarus, to the son of the widow of Nain, and to the daughter of Jairus; by the strength of his merciful love he gave spiritual life back to Zacchaeus, to Mary of Magdala, to the adulterous woman, and to all those who acknowledged his saving presence." ~Pope John Paul II Prays the Litany of the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Heart of Jesus, our life and resurrection, have mercy on us; breathe your single word upon your Church, restore our life. Heart of Jesus, our life and resurrection, have mercy on us; strengthen us with your merciful love. Amen.

Hello Kitty in glitter

Did a nail design inspired by one of the cutest and favorite character, Hello Kitty i tried to draw her and honestly she's extremely hard (there's so many way you can go wrong with her) I think i'm a bit scared to continue trying to do her. So instead i bought the Konad plate of her's and it's one of the best things i could of done. She looks fantastic. I'm still going to stick to doing my hand drawn art, because i feel like a cheater just stamping but it's a great alternative. Hope you like

Mary's Birthday

I can't believe it-my baby is ten! How swiftly fly the years!














and she gazes in the distance
His glorious face to see
she lives her life on the solid Rock
her love for Him strengthens me

I love my precious daughter
the joy of all my days
she fills my life with sunshine
from her sweet and tender ways

born on a day of remembrance
my own dear mother's day of birth
my beloved daughter Mary
fills my days with mirth

for ten years God has blessed me
with her kind and endless love
my daughter is an angel
a gift from far above

she wraps her arms around me
her kisses are so dear
sweet God I thank you for Mary
forever hold her near

Camp Jeremiah

It's that time of year again...time for St. Francis de Sales Summer Camp for boys who are considering the priesthood. My son Jack attended the middle school Camp Jeremiah with my great-nephew, Carson. Carson was a rookie camper this year, so Jack took him under his wing, since he had attended last year as well. The middle school camp was host to 26 boys this year-a record number! Camp Jeremiah was hosted by St. Francis de Sales Seminary's Vocations Director, Fr. Peter Berger, along with Deacon Ryan Preuss and seminarians Michael and Patrick. Of course, the camp would not be complete without the assistance of the Vocation's Office phenomenal administrative assistant, Susi Kurek. The weekend included opportunities for confession, time for adoration, praying the rosary at the Seminary Grotto, the Divine Mercy Chaplet, the Stations of the Cross, Liturgy of the Hours, Mass and lots of fun!

This year the camp concluded with a Mass in Christ King Chapel for the campers and their families. After Mass, the first thing Jack told me was that part of the camp included a talk by Bishop-elect Donald Hying, who concluded the session by blessing everyone's rosaries. On the long drive home from the seminary, Jack clutched his blessed rosary tightly in his hand and once we settled in back home, he gave his rosary to me, telling me that it would be a wonderful keepsake for me since my dear friend had blessed it. My youngest son, he is so sweet, loving and sensitive; if God wills it, he will make a fabulous priest some day!

The True Fountain of Youth by Bishop-elect Donald Hying

A reflection on the Feast of Corpus Christi by Bishop-elect Donald Hying originally published in the Milwaukee Catholic Herald 6/23/11


















One of the early Spanish explorers, Juan Ponce de Leon is famous both for naming Florida and his search for the fabled fountain of youth. Legends of some magical elixir which could stave off aging and death abounded in the European Age of Discovery and propelled more than one expedition to the Americas. These myths and journeys speak of the innate human desire for immortality that abides deep within all of us. We all want to live forever.

Today’s feast of Corpus Christi proclaims Jesus Christ as the Bread of Life, the One who offers us eternal union with God in the kingdom of heaven. In John’s Gospel, Jesus proclaims His flesh and blood to be the great antidote against the power of sin and death. “He who feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has life eternal and I will raise him up on the last day.” In the Eucharist, God fulfills our desire for immortality beyond all of our expectations. When we partake of the Body and Blood of Christ, we digest within ourselves the great power of Jesus’ resurrection which is life eternal with God, a glorious existence freed from the corruption of sin and death.

I am reading a fascinating book, “Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist,” by Brant Pitre, a Scripture scholar who teaches at Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans. The author develops the connection between the manna given to the Israelites in the wilderness and the Eucharist in several ways. As clearly articulated in the book of Exodus, manna was a heavenly bread, given by the Lord to sustain the Israelites during their long sojourn through the desert on their way to the Promised Land. The manna stopped when Israel entered the land of Canaan, but a pot of it was preserved in the Tabernacle. Its mysterious appearance on the face of the desert every morning and its distinctive flavor proclaim the manna as a new and supernatural sign of the Lord’s providential care of His people. Even its name, which comes from the Hebrew “man hu” meaning “what is it” tells us that this bread was no ordinary phenomenon.

Pitre goes on to quote many rabbinical writings which articulate the belief held by some Jews of Jesus’ time that the manna would return at the coming of the Messiah and would serve as a sign of the Messianic age. This belief helps us to understand today’s Gospel, as Jesus refers to Himself as the new manna, “the living bread come down from heaven.” The manna does reappear as the flesh and blood of the Messiah Himself. Just as the Israelites were fed and sustained by the hand of the Lord until they reached the Promised Land, so too we are spiritually nourished by the Bread of Life until we pass through the mystery of death into eternal life.

Belief in the Eucharist requires great faith. To believe that ordinary bread and wine become, through the power of the Holy Spirit at Mass, the sacramental Body and Blood of the risen Christ is a pretty tall order. But maybe faith in the Eucharist is sometimes a struggle because it seems too good to be true. Can God really love us that much, that He would humble Himself by becoming so small and vulnerable in a tiny host and a sip from the chalice? Can my life be so valued by God that His greatest desire would be to abide within me, to literally become one with my flesh, blood and soul? Perhaps, I can only believe in the Eucharist to the extent that I believe that God loves me. I am convinced that the only reason Catholics would stay away from the Eucharist is that they either do not understand or do not believe. Once we have faith in and knowledge of this Bread of Life, the Lord Jesus who comes to us in Word and Sacrament to feed us, to live within us, to offer us eternal life, how could we ever absent ourselves from the Eucharist?

The Church will be renewed to the extent that each Catholic discovers and lives the great secret of the Eucharist, that the risen Lord desires this intimate communion with us, this love relationship which will propel us into eternal glory. The true fountain of youth flows daily at your local parish church. Go, eat and drink and live forever!

1. How can you deepen your faith in the Eucharist? How can you witness that faith to Catholics who do not attend Mass?
2. What are the social implications of the Eucharist? If the Lord abides in all of us, how must we live and act with each other?

Unsung Heroes of Writing

I saw an article regarding that early 90's Super Mario Bros.: The Movie the other day. It was about how Bob Hoskins hated that movie, and it was also a blogger using that as a launchpad to trash the film in general. It must have been a slow day. Anyway, you can read it HERE.

I'm not going to argue that Super Mario Bros.: The Movie is a great film. Fuck no. It's a rather bland kids movie at best. However, what I'm a bit sick of is this badgering of it as "one of the worst video game movies of all time" reputation that it gets. Mainly, the film gets that acknowledgment because it's not like the game. At all.

If one were to argue all the many ways it diverts from the source material, that person would be ranting for over an hour, nit-picking and making a fool of him or herself (let's face it - most likely himself). Why? Well, if you wanted the video game, it exists on multiple systems and in abundant sequels - some of which are supposed to be educational romps about history and geography that didn't go over well. There was also one on Gamecube that made some smart kids wonder about sex and biology, considering it featured Baby Bowser kidnapping Peach because she, apparently, was his mother.

Boom! Boom! Acka-lacka boom boom!

As its own movie though, Super Mario Bros. is a strange piece to analyze. Think about it. Imagine you're one of the three screenwriters tapped and credited to put this baby together (preferably the writer most responsible for the final, filmed product). You've got a few side-scrollers as your source material involving an Italian plumber jumping on turtles, bullets, and walking, brown turds in an adventure to save a princess and some mushroom people from an evil, dinosaur tyrant. Sure, you could stick with that plot and make it exactly like the game, or you could consider budget constraints and get creative.

Or you can get really creative and put some ultra-crazy shit in there...

Interdimensional lizard people bent on trying to conquer our dimension and enslave us all? Ones who evolved from the dinosaurs after a meteor ripped our worlds into two different dimensions? It sounds like somebody was reading some UFO/paranormal fringe writers - possibly David Icke with the interdimensional lizard people bent on enslaving us all bit.

Think about it though. Who reads that heavy duty stuff, one that requires a different frame of mind to even read and take seriously to begin with, and then decides it's ripe for a kids movie? Whoever the Hell wrote the majority of the polished script of Super Mario Bros.: The Movie, that's who. Think about that next time you're going to trash this film. Think about how some guy took a simple side-scroller and then based the entire plot off a writer and researcher who believes that our world leaders are actually Reptilian/Human hybrids bent on preparing us for servitude to their full-blood Reptilian masters. Then, said writer preparing it for submission, knowing full well that it was going in a light-hearted, whimsical movie for children.

That's fucking creative.

Doktor nOnsensical out.

If you're looking to get your summer reading list going, and you want to have 25% of your purchase go toward cancer research, purchase Doktor nOnsensical's novel on Amazon. You can find it HERE. The charity offer ends July 20th.

One Heart With Jesus

"Here we see the goal toward which by its very nature the devotion to the Sacred Heart tends-to have one heart with the heart of Jesus, to surrender oneself wholly, that is, to give up all self-seeking, to forget oneself entirely in order to live only by that fire which the love of Jesus has enkindled in us, to live by His love, to live through His love, to live for His love."

"If the pure sentiments of Christ are to live in us, we may love nothing created, absolutely nothing at all, for its own sake, but only for God's sake; we must purify our hearts of all love of earth, because only a detached heart can love God as the heart of Jesus loved Him. We may love men, we must love all men, we must love some more than others; but the motive and the measure of our love must be the love of God....this is, of course, the highest perfection, and it is questionable if we shall ever attain it fully in this life. Yet all our efforts must be directed toward it...Freedom from all deliberate attachment to creatures for their own sake is, therefore, the second degree of union of our hearts with the heart of Jesus."

~Our Best Friend, Christian Pesch, SJ

"Lord of infinite mercy, through this Wound of intense love, through this Wound so great that it can contain the earth, the heavens, and all that is therein, I unite my love to Thy Divine love, in order that, in this way and by it, my love may be made perfect, may lose itself in Thine, and be blended with it as two metals liquefied by fire and mixed together form but one. May our two wills become only one, or rather, may mine be wholly united to and always in perfect conformity with Thine. Into the burning furnace of Thy Heart, into this Wound of love, I cast my affections, my inclinations, my thoughts and my desires, that all that is covered with rust and defilement, all that is imperfect and in disorder, may be destroyed by the flames. Then will my heart, all cleansed and renewed, be wholly consumed in Thee and for Thee."

~Lanspergius from Ancient Devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus

Today begins the Novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. May we all have one heart with Jesus! Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in thee!

Electric Daisy Carnival 2011

So a few of my friends and my brother (Edgar) will be attending the Electric Daisy Carnival in Vegas this coming up weekend so i decided to do a design just for them. Using the logo of the Daisies and colorful lights hope u like.

China Glaze 'Ghoulish Glow' Review

What better way to compliment this Raver design then glow in the dark nails! Well i was a little hesitant to use China Glaze 'Ghoulish Glow' because almost every single review i have read say's it doesn't work! Well i have just proven them all wrong because it really does work. You just really have to know how to use GLOW in the dark objects. Firs u have to really shake the bottle i mean like crazy (about 20-30 times or after each coat)  took about 12 coats which is a little too much but if u really want it to work then just do it! Once all my nails had the necessary coats  i recharged my nails (ha ha ha sound funny but seriously i did) under a normal light bulb and that automatically did the trick, check out how bright they got! These are definitely raver nails!

that's some serious glow Reminds me of Kriptonite 

here's the bottle 

(sorry so blurry, but my Nikon Coolpix without flash does that)

Seven Bridges Trail

"Enter this wild wood and view the haunts of nature."
















We cross the bridge
and enter into the cool
of the lush green woods

enveloped by
silence and beauty
and peace

the path ends
at a washed out bridge
and we backtrack around the creek
to find another way
to the lake
roaring and majestic

the icy waves crash to shore
and lap at my feet
splashing ever closer
trying to capture me

they are like grief
overtaking my heart
drowning my joy

and before I lose myself
too deeply
in that dark thought
I hear my children cry

"storm clouds are coming
please let's go"
and I reluctantly follow

leaving the search
for my treasured sea glass
and the thoughts
of my aching heart
behind

I re-enter the wood
and leave my grief
to yesterday
knowing that His walk
with me will always

lead me to beauty
and love
if only I trust
in His lead

"May the God given peace of this leafy solitude rest upon and abide with thee."

Move over leopard print it's all about the SNAKE SKIN!

I've seen several manicures strutting the snake skin and it looks really cool so i thought i should give it a try. Love how it looks. Hope you like. Used several shimmery polishes to create this look. 

Used: Orly 'Dazzle', and 'Rage', Essie 'Master Plan', Rimmel 'Black Satin' and 'French White'

The All-American Air Show

Spring and Summer are operating in full swing, skipping hand-in-hand into our part of the hemisphere like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. With them, come festivals, outdoor shows, pedophile ice cream vendors, beautiful women in skimpy outfits, parades that are still considered "extreme interrogation techniques" and not "torture" by some news outlets, political bullshit, drive-in movies where most virile young men learn how to operate stick-shift in their cars, and long walks on paved paths by lakes where spooky signs warn patrons not to stray from the asphalt.

One particular event that always boggles my mind is the air show. These babies are set up all over the country, and they more or less consist of a collective yard sale. Rich people show up sporting off their old and new aircraft. Military venues show up to try and use their magic blabberings to ruse young men and women into "fighting for our freedom" by blowing the piss out of foreigners with resources we need. Restauranteurs and shysters set up food stands. Multinational corporations come to push their products, be they relevant or irrelevant. Oh, and planes fly around all day, sometimes doing stunts or pooping out people in parachutes to trashy 80s power ballads.

Chief among the sights and sounds of the air show are the more recent aircraft - the ones that can break the sound barrier. The tremendous noise across the sky as fighter jets roll in busting a nut through the sound barrier is earth-shaking, literally. It's not a sound anyone misses, and it's one people remember for the rest of their lives.

Americans remember it so well, that they pay 15, 20, 25, 30, and sometimes up to 85 bucks a person just to walk in, hear that noise, and possibly witness some pyrotechnic displays of explosions across the run-away. Why people want to feel the heat blast of a large explosion 400 feet away on a hot, humid day where the temperature is climbing above 99 degrees is beyond me.

Yet, it's a symbol of our inherent "American-ism". It's a past time many people love to enjoy, crying out in "awe" as they're shocked by the tremendous amount of fuel being burned in the sky. When most Americans hear an F-15 or an F-18 burst through the sound barrier - one thought always rolls to mind:

"Where's the bratwurst stand?"

It's funny to think about this American tradition in relation to other countries. While most of us chunky nationalists, with our pudgy digits waving a cheap, plastic flag made in China around, wait for hours to buy lousy, overpriced food dish after lousy, overpriced food dish with planes zipping by, in Libya, air shows are free.

Yup. Can you believe that? They get them every day too! Except, of course, when those people hear the screeching wail of a plane breaking the sound barrier, they shit their pants and run for cover, knowing full well that some man, woman, or child is going to die. It's all thanks to a Nobel Peace Prize-winning president on a humanitarian mission.

Think about it. It's a weird concept. In one country, an "air show" most certainly means imminent death for some poor fucker. In another country, it's just another sign for some fat fuck drinking coke that Summer is here. Go figure.

Doktor nOnsensical out!

Oh, and if you enjoy reading nOnsense and want to add a full-length book to your summer reading list, be sure to check out Doktor nOnsensical's first novel on Amazon. You can find it HERE. Also, from now until July 20th, 25% of all book sales will be donated to nationalbreastcancer.org.

The Community of Catholic Bloggers

Joining with Holly and Paying it Forward: (click on Holly's name for the link)




There are some wonderful and holy bloggers who have joined together in community to share a blog of faith. The most recent posting by Barb Schoeneberger is an amazing reflection on the True Presence and includes a ten minute video about a Eucharistic Miracle in Argentina. It's truly amazing! And who knows, if you visit the site frequently, you may even find a post or two by yours truly, a contributing writer to the group blog. The following words by Mary at A Beautiful Gate (click on blog name to link!)describe this site very well:

"Last week, a few Catholic Bloggers and I joined together and started a new blog called the Community of Catholic Bloggers.The blog is up and running and I invite all my blogging friends to visit this new site. I also ask for your help in spreading the news about this community. Without the help of our fellow Catholic bloggers our goal of sharing Christ's love with others becomes far more difficult and, so I ask, in the spirit of Catholic unity, for your help in getting this blog off the ground.

Here are some ways you could help:
- by adding our link or banner to your sidebars
- by inviting your friends to visit
-by following the new site.

I also ask for your prayers - that we may glorify God through our posts and draw others closer to our Lord.In the coming weeks we will be adding new authors and guest bloggers to the Community of Catholic Bloggers and I invite those who would like to participate as guest bloggers to contact me. We are looking for faith-based articles that focus on unity, community, prayer, and anything that contributes to the building up of the Church. The only thing we ask is that the posts be written in a spirit of charity and respect and that the writers avoid issues that cause dissension in our Church.I thank you ahead of time for any help you can give us. I am always touched by the wonderful support of the Catholic blogging community and the incredible outpouring of help that I always receive when asking for prayer and support. May God bless each and every one of you.

Many thanks to Victor and Karinann for all their hard work in setting up this site!"

Please visit the Community of Catholic Bloggers(click here!) and Pay it Forward(click here!)!

Silent Man

"We celebrate Father’s Day. The sacred word “father” implies “mother.” ...These words are so basic that they’re the first ones a baby says; so foundational that they’re among the first words of the Creator recorded in the Bible." ~Archbishop Dolan

The Silent Man








I remember his wrinkled hands,
fingertips calloused from glucose testing,
nails yellowed with age,
hint of dirt beneath them from working in the garden.

Forty-three years old the day I was born
an old man, and yet a new father
ninth time around for him, an expert father by now.

I suppose he expected me to be like all the rest,
wild and naughty;
and I was-
I made sure to cause him to lose his hair,
lose his sleep, possibly lose some sanity, too.

Like all my siblings before me
he raised me the same-
quietly, with few words.

A pat on the head each morning
while eating my lumpy oatmeal
was the love he gave me
on his way to work;
"bye now" and he was gone-

-until he was too sick to work in the factory,
too sick to drive a cab,
too sick to spend much time outside of the hospital.

Months passed in diabetic comas
my quiet father, now silent;
wild daughter, now invisible;
shaken by the threat that dad won't live long.

Returning home with a brain damaged by his illness
his tolerance worn thin,
wild daughter was now "damn kid!"
and those hands came at me with swats
instead of pats.

The threat of near-death that hung over our heads
never arrived and he lived to be eighty-three.
In his old age, I silently sat with him;
watched those weathered hands
finger the rosary, often losing track of his place
as he would doze off to sleep.

Finally the day came when those hands could do no more-
no more finger pokes for glucose tests,
no more gardening,
no more cooking oatmeal,
no more love pats,
no more swats,
no more fingering the rosary.

I held his worn and wrinkled hand,
feeling the bones beneath the dry skin
noticed him squeeze my hand as I whispered
"I love you, Dad."

I watched as the silent man
whose hands were now silent, too,
held a rosary without praying,
as the lid was the closed
and the silent man was no more.

(A re-post from February 2010)

~Missing my dad who passed from this life five years ago and noticing how sometimes, my Heavenly Father can be as silent as my earthly father had been. Treasure your father if he is still with you! Honor him with prayer if he is not! Happy Father's Day to all dads! For a brilliant and flawless reflection on Fatherhood and the Trinity, please visit Dr. Lilles at Beginning to Pray.

The greatest show alive

About a month ago I read 'Water for Elephants' by Sara Gruen, It's a wonderful book about life in the Circus but mainly it's a love story the movie just came out starting Robert Pattinson and Reese Witherspoon anyways i had promised i would do a circus design and like promise here it is. 

I tried to incorporate main circus attractions like a show elephant 

(specially since in 'Water for Elephants' Rosie the Elephant is one of the main characters)

we then have a juggling monkey, the circus tent, a very bright clown and colorful balloons.

Hope you like

The Circus

I'm so in love with the elephant i drew I'm going to name her 

(Enelope)

This color blew my mind away it's so beautiful i 

Used: DS OPI 'Reserve'