Counting Coup, Atheist Style

The Cheyennes and other plains tribes had a practice called counting coup.

Counting coup, Cheyenne style, meant taking a life-threatening risk to dash up to a bear or a rival tribe member and touch them, then dash back to your fellows to get well-earned kudos for your bravery. The essential component to counting coup, Cheyenne style, was that it took actual guts to do it.

I never understood this before I began blogging, but evidently counting coup has moved forward into the tribal rites of various on-line social clubs. At least on this blog, atheist trolls are the ones who seem to practice it.

For reasons I don’t fully get, the atheist bloggers on Patheos have zeroed Public Catholic in general and little ole me in particular, for their disdain. According to them, we’re all crazy over here on the Catholic portal and need a good dressing down from time to time.

I come in for more than my share of this rhubarb. It’s the usual stuff about how I’m a politician who’s writing all this religious stuff for political gain and I’m a religious fanatic with an IQ about three points above asphalt. That sort of thing.

What interests me are the coup-counters. They come dashing in here and drop off a random insult in what is usually a totally non sequitur fashion and then dash back to the Spanky and Our Gang Christian-Haters Clubhouse to tell the tale of their courage.

The Cheyennes risked their lives when they counted coup. It took both intelligence and actual courage for them to do it. Since almost all these insult-dropping dive-bombers from the atheist zone arrive under cover of pseudonym, they aren’t even risking their reputations. It also doesn’t take a whole boatload of intelligence to type some version of “sez you, you piece of dirt” and then go running off.

It’s kind of fun to watch this spectacle. And when its not kind of fun, I just delete.

It is interesting though, how people who say they don’t believe in God also can’t say it enough times to feel good about themselves. They really do protest too much. When tasked on this point, they usually come up with an explanation about how they aren’t obsessed with God. It’s just us Christians who force them to behave as if they were obsessed with God because they can’t, well, live in a world where people believe things that they don’t believe.

Oh well.

I pray for them. And I want them to know that God loves them as much as He loves any of His children. Anytime they decide to stop running around waving their arms and pulling their pants down, they are always welcome at His table. They are my lost and somewhat ditzy brothers.

In the meantime, I get a kind of there-they-go-again amusement from their coup-counting. As for the insults, I’m still waiting for them to come up with one I haven’t already heard a few thousand times before.

It Must Be Almost Thanksgiving Because I’m Steam Cleaning the Shower

So I was steam-cleaning the shower; giving the house it’s Thanksgiving go-over.

I have an industrial-strength steamer that, when it’s fully rigged up, looks a lot like one of the bugs in Starship Troopers. It produces hot, hot steam in violent jets that dissolve dirt and slay bacteria with a single hiss.

I was running it with the squeegee attachment, going up and down the shower walls, steam coming out in an angry zzzzzzzz, my laboriously straightened hair collapsing into tight little curls, when my youngest son popped his head around the bathroom door.

“Whachadoin’?” he asked.

(Duhhhhhh …)

“Cleaning the shower.”

“I want you to come do that to my shower,” meaning, the shower in the house he shares with his brother, a shower so dirty that there’s no way to be sure what color the enamel might be; a shower so dirty that self-respecting bacteria moved out months ago; a shower so dirty that I wouldn’t use it to bathe a dog.

“Nope. But you can borrow the steamer.”

“But I want you to come do it.”

“Nope.”

“All right then,” he said, wandering off.

I guess I’m responsible. After all, I raised him.

When he marries, I plan to begin my relationship with my new daughter-in-law by apologizing.

 

 

Where’s My Princess Purse?

Convos with My Two-Year-Old.

This one is about playing princess with Daddy.

Enjoy.

YouTube Preview Image

Patheos’ Beer Guy and Choc Beer

Fw

Patheos’ Beer Guy, Frank Weathers

My husband and I took a rambling drive through the Oklahoma hills yesterday. 

We wound around the Talihina Drive and ended up at Pete’s Place in Krebs, Oklahoma. For those of you who don’t know, that means we were well and royally fed. 

I admired the beer menu, and the good folks at Pete’s gave it to me. Here it is, for the perusal of all you poor folks out there who aren’t Okies. (And, of course, Patheos’ own beer connoisseur, Frank Weathers) I’m not a beer drinker, but those who are say that Pete’s and Choc beer are beyond compare. 

Untitled002 pdf005

Untitled002 pdf003

Boxing the Cat

Do big cats like boxes as much as little cats?

Watch and see.

YouTube Preview Image

Convos with My 3-Year-Old: Ferngully and Gas Prices

Convos with My 3-Year-Old. My fav YouTube.

Enjoy.

YouTube Preview Image

Guess What? Heaven and Hell are BOTH in Oklahoma!

Hell Fire

It seems that a number of the Catholic Patheosi are blogging about hell.

Since all I know of hell is what I’ve learned during the last week of session in the Oklahoma Legislature, I’ve decided to talk about that other place.

Enjoy.

YouTube Preview Image

Telekinetic Girl (Not)

Belated Halloween prank video. I’m not much of a practical joke fan, but since every person in this video had to sign off on being part of it, I decided that it is ok to publish.

And of course, there’s the likelihood that every person in this video, including the customers, is an actor, and the prank is really on us. All I know is that the people in the coffee shops around here aren’t nearly this well-groomed, fit and attractive.

See if you can figure out how they did it.

YouTube Preview Image

Music: My Piano Hates Rain

Musical

It took me a while to figure this out, and now that I have, I’m still trying to figure it out.

It begins with the simple facts that I love the sound of rain and we’re now in the fall rainy season here in Okieland.

What that means in practical terms is that I often open the back door and shove up a couple of windows so I can hear the rain. I’ve found that I especially love the sound of the rain while I play the piano. It’s a kind of unexpected bliss.

But here’s the weirdo catch.

I noticed a couple of weeks ago that my piano had gone out of tune. It has migrated a tiny bit since I had it tuned when I first got it, but this was so gecky that I would hit a key and then hit it again and go bleh. Then, I’d decide that, even though I don’t have a piano tuning in my budget until January, I am going to call and get the blamed thing tuned because I. Cannot. Stand. This. Ugly.

The next day, it would be back in tune.

This happened repeatedly.

I began to think my piano had a poltergeist. I decided that maybe, instead of a piano turner, it needed a priest.

Then, I began to see a not-so-subtle correlation. On rainy days, when I open the door and windows and turn off the central heat and air, the piano goes out of tune. On dry days, it goes back in tune.

It’s raining today, but, in deference to my piano, I’ve left the doors shut, the windows down and the central stuff on. So far, it’s in tune.

My piano does not have a poltergeist.

It does, however, appear to have arthritis.

Poll Results: Hemorrhoids, Toenail Fungus and IRS More Popular Than Congress

Colbert

86% of the American people disapprove of the job our Congress is doing.

Public Policy Polling tested Congress head to head with various entities. According to the results, all these things are more popular than Congress.

Hemorrhoids 52 Congress 31

IRS 42 Congress 33

Mothers-in-Law 64 Congress 20

Dog Poop 44 Congress 41

Toenail Fungus 44 Congress 42

Department of Motor Vehicles 58 Congress 24

Charles manson

Congress did beat out one contender (drum roll):

Charles Manson 18 Congress 56


CLOSE | X

HIDE | X