The Ayn Rand Movie Recall Hilarity

This might be an Onion story but…this just in: 100,000 Atlas Shrugged DVD’s Recalled for Perfectly Hilarious Reason

In what appears to be a legitimate press release on the blog of the official Atlas Shrugged Part I website, the producers of the film have announced that they will “replace more than 100,000 title sheets appearing on the Atlas Shrugged Part 1 DVD and Blu-ray versions.” Sounds like a pain in the ass. Why? Did child porn pics somehow show up on them? No! But the ultimate Randian curse word — “self-sacrifice” — did, and that’s worse. [Read more...]

For “Flannery O’Connor Nite” at the Movies

Originally published last year on this same day. Cue the Twilight Zone theme.

As I was reading Flannery O’Connor’s first novel Wise Blood, I couldn’t help thinking that this was almost tailor made for adaptation to the screen by the Coen Brothers. Then I found out that iconic film director John Huston had made the film version of Wise Blood in 1979. [Read more...]

Because Tolkien and Lewis Took A Walk After Dinner

I had someone leave a comment on a post who lamented questioningly,

“After all, do Christians proselytize to others as they wish others would proselytize to them? The very notion is ridiculous.”

Below is a great video clip, courtesy of Kevin O’Brien’s Theater of the Word, Incorporated, that puts that statement to the test. Because we are called to spread the Good News in ways that appeal to all people. [Read more...]

Because the Catholic Church Maintains Hope in the World

Just a few days ago, I asked if it was arrogant or audacious to seek objective truth during our sojourn here on Planet Earth.  A few tried to paint me into a corner (that I was both, and probably idiotic, if not psychotic) for my belief to having claimed to find the elusive truth through Christ and the Catholic Church.

Yes, I’m well aware that it is all the rage to love Jesus, but not the Church. Problem is, to do the one, you have to do the other. I mean, he himself said,

And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

Again Jesus mentions this word “church” when a question on conflict resolution is raised,

“If your brother sins [against you], go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother. If he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, so that ‘every fact may be established on the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ If he refuses to listen to them, tell the church. If he refuses to listen even to the church, then treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector. Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

so whether we like it, or not, Jesus, the God-Man, the Christ,  built the Church, and evidently he wants it to be around.

The apostles got this message, and as a result, the word, “church,”  occurs many times throughout the New Testament to describe the assembly of the faithful. In fact, St. Paul calls the Church the Body of Christ, remembering getting knocked down on the road to Damascas and having Jesus ask him, “why do you persecute me?”

For the past few days, I’ve had my nose buried in some very good books. I found a wee treasure written by a fellow named W. J. Williams that includes the names “Newman” and “Pascal” in the title, and as Blaise is one of my favorites, and Newman recently became a Blessed, I had to give it a look.

The book is entitled Newman, Pascal, Loisy and the Catholic Church. It turns out that Loisy was excommunicated in 1909, but he doesn’t figure prominently in the book so I’m mystified as to why his name is included in the title. Maybe it was for “sizzle” back when it was published. Controversy sells, right? [Read more...]

For All the Saints: Francis of Assisi, Deacon

It’s the feast of St. Francis of Assisi today, in case you didn’t notice. True story: My grandfather was a Catholic and his name was Francis too, and he was named after the fellow you’ll be reading about below. As it happens, that is also how I came to be named, but the Catholic connotation of that Christian name lay dormant for some great length time. My grandfather died, see, when I was a wee tot and my memories of him bear no mark of his (and now my) religion at all.

Dipping into my favorite electronic library, I came across this little review of “Mrs. Oliphant’s” Life of St. Francis in an English journal called “The Saturday Review of Politics, Literature, Science, and Art.” Wow, they don’t write journals with titles like that anymore! Now, I have no idea who the author of the following thoughts is, but the introductory paragraphs of the essay below start with the chagrin St. Francis causes amongst our non-Catholic Christian brethren. Because there really is no one closer to St. Francis in devotion to Christ, than perhaps the Blessed Virgin herself.

Looking for a Catholic who took the gospels literally? You’ve found him. These thoughts were penned in the Year of Our Lord 1872, or about half a heartbeat ago in the cosmic scheme of things. Have a look,

from a review of The Life of St. Francis

The Franciscan Order met a crying want of the age which the older religious communities failed to satisfy. But there is nothing to show that Francis had any such conscious purpose in originating it. From first to last he was the child of impulse, but of impulses which were always benevolent, generous, and devout. “He thought little of himself, even of his own soul to be saved;” his one idea and master-passion was how best to work for God and to help men.

The first murmurs were already beginning to be heard of the great democratic movement which has since overspread Europe, and the feudal system, still surviving in full force, was more and more felt to be an oppressive burden on the poor. Nor was the only power that could then act as a counterpoise itself irreproachable. There was a very general outcry against the pride of a wealthy and dominant hierarchy accused of caring more for its own aggrandizement than for the souls of men. And that cry had taken shape in strange forms of heresy, old and new, which threatened social as well as ecclesiastical order, and which Church and State—so far as the two can then be distinguished—were banded together to trample out with ruthless and indiscriminate severity.

But the Church, if she was to retain her moral supremacy, required a machinery which could convince as well as crush; there was needed a popular ministry to satisfy the wants of popular devotion, and a popular theology to meet on its own ground the advances of popular heresy. And this was the double work which Francis, however unconsciously, was destined to accomplish, though he might have seemed from his antecedents about the unlikeliest man in Europe for the purpose.

In the little city of Assisi, which lies beneath the Eastern slope of the Umbrian Apennines, there lived a worthy merchant, Pietro Bernadone di Mericoni by name, to whom was born in 1182 a son named Francesco, and known among his companions by the common Italian sobriquet of Cecco. The boy grew up to be the pride of his parents, the spoiled child of fortune, the darling of society, the idol of a glittering circle of youthful friends, gayest among the gay, of singular personal beauty, fascinating manners, and brilliant but genial wit.

At the age of twenty he was struck down by a severe illness, and from that hour is dated his “conversion—from a life of carelessness, not apparently of vice—the first result of which was his joining, in obedience to a dream, the army of the “Gentle Count” “Walter of Brienne, in the strife of Guelph against Ghibelline. But a second dream turned him back at Spoleto, and for a time he resumed his old life, but not in the old spirit. “Why so grave, Francis?” said his wondering companions; “are you going to be married?” The question suggested the reply: “I am; and my bride is—Poverty.”

Those strange nuptials have been immortalized by the greatest of French orators and of Italian poets, and the pencil of Giotto has familiarized to our eyes what the glowing words of Bossuet and Dante have made musical to our ears. The events which followed in rapid succession must be briefly dismissed here. In obedience to another vision Francis undertook to rebuild the little church of St. Damiano, outside the walls of Assisi, and incurred the fierce anger of his father, who had already been sorely troubled by his eccentricities, by selling some of his bales of cloth for the purpose. He was seized as a lunatic, and imprisoned for several months in his own home.

At length, after signing a renunciation of his patrimony, and stripping off his costly garments, he went forth, homeless and friendless, like the patriarch of old, forgetting his own people and his father’s house, and not knowing whither he went. But he now remembered an incident which had occurred some time previously, and had deeply impressed him. He had met a leper near Assisi, and, conquering his natural disgust, had sprung from his horse and embraced him. Those who know the peculiar care bestowed by the Church of that age on these unhappy outcasts, whom Christ, according to the Vulgate reading of Isaiah’s prophecy, had made types of Himself, will not wonder at the sequel. The seeming leper vanished, to appear again to Francis in a dream; for it was indeed none other than the Divine Sufferer of whom the prophet spoke.

To the lepers’ hospital at Assisi accordingly Francis now betook himself, and thence he came forth to supplicate alms to rebuild the church of St. Damiano, and another church outside the city formerly dedicated to St. Peter, but now restored under the name of La Portiuncola, or Our Lady of the Angels, and which is still the central home of the Franciscan Order.

The time for establishing that Order had now come. We must pass over the touching story of the conversion of his two first companions, Bernardo di Quintavalle and Pietro di Catania, who settled in a little hut on the plains of Assisi to form the first nucleus of the new community. In a few weeks the numbers had increased to twelve, and already Francis heard in spirit “the tread of multitudes”—French, Spaniards, English, Germans—thronging to join them. He traced out a cross on the ground stretching to the four points of the compass, and despatched his little band in four companies on their mission of mercy to the bodies and souls of men.

The Order was now formed, but it had no legalized existence, and the members were simple laymen. Francis, therefore, who was no “nonconformist,” but a devoted son of the Church, resolved in Izio to repair to Rome, and ask for the sanction of the Pope. Innocent III., whom he and his companions found pacing at sunset along the stately terraces of the Lateran, looked with amazement on these strange visitors, in their rough shepherd’s dress, and remanded them till the morning.

That night, we are told, he dreamt, like the Syrian King of old, of a palm-tree which rose beneath his feet, and its branches stretched over the earth, and the weary and world-worn from every nation came to repose beneath its shade. And again he dreamed that the great Lateran Church was falling to the ground, and was propped up by the poor beggar in big brown shepherd’s dress who had stood before him the previous evening. He hesitated no longer, and, in spite of the remonstrances of his cardinals, dismissed his visitors with his blessing and a solemn, though as yet unwritten, approbation of their stern rule of poverty.

That went something like this,

The return of Francis to Assisi was like a triumphal procession. Bells were rung and litanies chanted, and crowds came forth to meet him, and the church of the Portiuncola was at once formally made over to him. The conversion of St. Clare soon followed, and the Church of St. Damiano was assigned to the female community of Poor Clares, the “Second Order” of Franciscans, instituted under her rule.

And now Francis, who but two or three years before had been hooted as a madman through the streets of his native city, was preaching in the cathedral, though only a deacon, to enraptured crowds, who hung upon his every word. We must pass rapidly over the first General Chapter of the Order, the second journey of Francis to Rome to obtain a fuller confirmation of the rule from Honorius HL, and his meeting there with St. Dominic, when the founders of the rival Orders vowed before the altar an eternal friendship, to note his first acquaintance with Cardinal Ugolino, afterwards Pope Gregory IX., who remained ever afterwards the warm friend and patron of Francis and his community.

St. Francis, pray for us.

Pray For Anu Garg? You Betcha!

Remember me and my pal Anu Garg? We went around the block a few times. Well unlike all the other times I’ve posted about him and his A.Word.A.Day website, this time my hat is off to him. Maybe caught wind of today’s readings.

Whatever the reason, in a string unmatched in my memory every single one of the words featured on his list this week had a trademark Thought of the Day that could be appreciated by believers as well as atheists. Amazing grace!

Maybe Anu is starting to come around? I don’t know. He’s gone on record as an atheist (I believe), and as being skeptical about religion. I think it’s safe to say he’s an agnostic. But maybe he’s a seeker in disguise? Weren’t /aren’t we all?

His theme for this week has been eponyms and you can check them all out here. But I’ll share their accompanying Thought of the Day quotes from his current selections here.

Monday: This one’s a home run. If God put one person on this earth (besides Christ Himself) who can convert the skeptics of the world, this is the fellow. My buddy Blaise!

We are usually convinced more easily by reasons we have found ourselves than by those which have occurred to others. -Blaise Pascal, philosopher and mathematician (1623-1662)

You got that right, Anu. Thanks for noticing!

Tuesday: This one’s a double, if not a triple. I don’t know what Galbraith’s religious persuasions were. I know many dub him as a Liberal economist, but I appreciate the great (and prophetic) book he wrote titled The Great Crash. Reading it as a young stock broker prepared me for the storm we have lived through recently. They say history doesn’t repeat itself, but sometimes it rhymes. Qoheleth knows.

Faced with the choice between changing one’s mind and proving that there is no need to do so, almost everyone gets busy on the proof. -John Kenneth Galbraith, economist (1908-2006)

Ain’t that the truth?!

Wednesday: Another triple, but with fewer words. I don’t know John Ruskin from John D. Rockefeller, but truer words were never written than these,

When a man is wrapped up in himself he makes a pretty small package. -John Ruskin, author, art critic, and social reformer (1819-1900)

Thursday: Probably a single, but keep in mind that Anu is 4 for 4 so far in his appearences at the plate. We have a genuine streak going on here with this quote. I think he knocked in an RBI with this one too. My buddy Qoheleth agrees.

Time has a wonderful way of weeding out the trivial. -Richard Ben Sapir, novelist (1936-1987)

Friday: Woke up this morning, and what did I see? This kernel of wisdom from a good (and holy) Pharisee! Short, sweet, but a walk-off grand slam for the win (FTW!).

Be the master of your will and the slave of your conscience. -Hasidic saying

Anu? How’d these good seeds get mixed in with the weeds? A minor miracle perhaps? I’m starting to see our relationship with a clearer eye, and in a whole ‘nother light. See you next week mon ami, and I’ll be praying for you and your readers brother.

This calls for a song! Deacon Scott Dodge and I are on the same wavelength,

YouTube Preview Image

For Evelyn Waugh’s Prayer of a Convert

Psst…I finished reading Evelyn Waugh’s novel Helena. I think it is fantastic and I enjoyed it immensely. Reading it makes we want to head with my family to the Holy Land on pilgrimage, bankrupting us in the process. St. Helena, as the empress dowager, never faced that particular financial aspect of her own journey to Palestine.

Careful, because if you read this book you too may feel compelled to do the same. As I was racing through the pages, I came upon a section that I call “the Prayer of the Convert.” It applies to those who were born into the Church as well, the cradle Catholics who wandered away from their faith and have been called back to it. Waugh was a convert like me, see, and so was St. Helena, who begs the intercession of the magi when she attends Mass on the eve of the Epiphany in the cave where Our Lady gave birth to Our Lord,

“This is my day,” she thought, “and these are my kind.”

Perhaps she apprehended that her fame, like theirs, would live in one historic act of devotion; that she too had emerged from a kind of ουτοπια or nameless realm and would vanish like them in the sinking nursery fire-light among the picture-books and the day’s toys.

“Like me,” she said to them, “you were late in coming. The shepherds were here long before; even the cattle. They had joined the chorus of angels before you were on your way. For you the primordial discipline of the heavens was relaxed and a new defiant light blazed among the disconcerted stars.

“How laboriously you came, taking sights and calculations, where the shepherds had run barefoot! How odd you looked on the road, attended by what outlandish liveries, laden with such preposterous gifts!

“You came at length to the final stage of your pilgrimage and the great star stood still above you. What did you do? You stopped to call on King Herod. Deadly exchange of compliments in which there began that unended war of mobs and magistrates against the innocent!

“Yet you came, and were not turned away. You too found room at the manger. Your gifts were not needed, but they were accepted and put carefully by, for they were brought with love. In that new order of charity that had just come to life there was room for you too. You were not lower in the eyes of the holy family than the ox or the ass.

“You are my especial patrons,” said Helena, “and patrons of all late-comers, of all who have had a tedious journey to make to the truth, of all who are confused with knowledge and speculation, of all who through politeness make themselves partners in guilt, of all who stand in danger by reason of their talents.

“Dear cousins, pray for me,” said Helena, “and for my poor overloaded son. May he, too, before the end find kneeling-space in the straw. Pray for the great, lest they perish utterly. And pray for Lactantius and Marcias and the young poets of Trèves and for the souls of my wild, blind ancestors; for their sly foe Odysseus and for the great Longinus.

“For His sake who did not reject your curious gifts, pray always for the learned, the oblique, the delicate. Let them not be quite forgotten at the Throne of God when the simple come into their kingdom.”

Amen, brother Evelyn—Amen.

Sassetta’s Journey of the Magi

Gone Readin’ Helena by Evelyn Waugh

Why haven’t I been posting much lately? You can blame Fr. Steve Grunow, who suggested the book you see above to me a few days ago. I’ve never read anything by Evelyn Waugh, and I’m not ashamed to say that for most of my life I figured Evelyn was a lady, and I wasn’t much interested in what she had to say.

Yeah, yeah, I’ve got me a college degree and all, and after I became a Catholic and snooped around a bit I learned that Evelyn was a man, a Catholic, and he wrote some great novels that were turned into classics for Masterpiece Theater. Still, I was about as excited to read anything written by him as I was interested in say…watching paint dry, or grass grow. Yawn.

But then I found that neat book about the True Cross by Louis de Combes, and Fr. Steve suggested Waugh’s book. I checked the catalog at the library, noted a copy was on the shelf, and I strolled over there and picked it up pronto. I haven’t been able to put it down since. Here’s a taste:

“Chlorus, is it true what they are saying in Ratisbon: that you are going to be Caesar?”

“Who say that?”

“The governor’s wife, the widow of the banker, all the ladies.”

“It may be true. Aurelian and I have spoken of it before. After the battle, he spoke of it again. He has to go to Syria now, to tidy up trouble there. After that he will return to Rome for his triumph. Then we shall see.”

“Do you want it?”

“It’s not what I want, ostler; it’s what Aurelian wants that counts, he and the army and the empire. It is nothing to be shy of, just another, larger command—Gaul, the Rhine, Britain, possibly Spain. The empire’s too big for one man; that’s been proved. And we need a secure succession, a second-in-command who’s been trained to the job, knows the ropes, can step in straight away when the command falls vacant; not leave each army to declare for its own general and fight it out as they’ve done lately. Aurelian is going to talk to the senators about it when we go to Rome.”

See? Clear thinking like that is what I was just talking about a few days back. And does everything go according to plan? As if!

I’m not going to tell you anything more about the book but this: Helena has just embarked on her quest to find the True Cross and you can forget about me posting anything remotely intelligible until I finish this book. Color me gone!

For Thoughts On Fame by Hilaire Belloc



On Fame, from This And That and the Other

Fame is that repute among men which gives us pleasure. It needs much repetition, but also that repetition honorable. Of all things desired Fame least fulfills the desire for it; for if Fame is to be very great a man must be dead before it is more than a shoot; he therefore has not the enjoyment of it (as it would seem).

Again, Fame while a man lives is always tarnished by falsehood; for since few can observe him, and less know him, he must have Fame for work which he does not do and forego Fame for work which he knows deserves it.

Fame has no proper ending to it, when it is first begun, as have things belonging to other appetites, nor is any man satiated with it at any time. Upon the contrary, the hunger after it will lead a man forward madly always to some sort of disaster, whether of disappointment in the soul, or of open dishonor.

Fame is not to be despised or trodden under as a thing not to be sought, for no man is free of the desire of it, nor can any man believe that desire to be an imperfection in him unless he desire at the same time something greater than Fame, and even then there is a flavor of Fame certain to attach to his achievement in the greater thing. No one can say of Fame, “I contemn it;” as a man can say of titles, “I contemn them.” Nor can any man say of the love of Fame, “This is a thing I should cast from me as evil,” as a man may say of lust when it is inordinate, that is, out of place. Nor can any man say of Fame, “It is a little thing,” for if he says that he is less or more than a man.

The love of Fame is the mobile of all great work in which also man is in the image of God, who not only created but took pleasure in what he did and, as we know, is satisfied by praise thereof.

In what way, then, shall men treat Fame? How shall they seek it, or hope to use it if obtained? To these questions it is best answered that a man should have for Fame a natural appetite, not forced nor curiously entertained; it must be present in him if he would do noble things. Yet if he makes the Fame of those things, and not those things themselves his chief business, then not only will he pursue Fame to his hurt, but also Fame will miss him. Though he should not disregard it yet he must not pursue it to himself too much, but he will rightly make of it in difficult times a great consolation.

When Fame comes upon a man well before death then must he most particularly beware of it, for is it then most dangerous. Neither must he, having achieved it, relax effort nor (a much greater peril) think he has done his work because some Fame now attaches thereto.

Some say that after a man has died the spreading of his earthly Fame is still a pleasure to him among greater scenes: but this is doubtful. One thing is certain, Fame is enjoyable in good things accomplished; bitter, noisome and poisonous in all other things—whether it be the Fame of things thought to be accomplished but not accomplished, or Fame got by accident, or Fame for evil things concealed because they are evil.

The judgment of Fame is this: That many men having done great things of a good sort have not Fame. And that many men have Fame who have done but little things and most of them evil. The virtue of Fame is that it nourishes endeavor. The peril of Fame is that it leads men towards itself, and therefore into inanities and sheer loss. But Fame has a fruit, which is a sort of satisfaction coming from our communion with mankind.

The elderly Belloc

They that believe they deserve Fame though they lack it may be consoled in this: that soon they shall be concerned with much more lasting things, and things more immediate and more true: just as a man who misses some entertainment at a show will console himself if he knows that shortly he shall meet his love. They that have Fame may correct its extravagances by the same token: remembering that shortly they will be so occupied that this earthly Fame of theirs will seem a toy.

Old men know this well.

Bonus time! Thoughts on Fame by another British fellow. Sorry, but I can’t help myself. Note both artist’s names start with a “B.”

Want to Fight Truthiness? Come to the YIMCatholic Bookshelf. Please.

Sheesh! I wonder if the video below was done before or after the allegations of problems with the staff of Real Catholic TV came to light. It is so far off the deep end, as you’ll see. Anyone with access to books can refute this asserted notion in under two minutes.

YouTube Preview Image

That the Priscillianists were heretics is undisputed. But alas, Priscillian and his staff were excommunicated (and executed, by the way) not because they were “taking communion in the hand,” as alleged in this video. Unless, that is, you mean they took Our Eucharistic Lord by the hand and carted Him home with them, which was (and is now) an abuse. You see, Priscillianists wouldn’t communicate inside church at all, had weird ascetic practices, orgies at night, and assorted other troubling routines. Take a look,

The doctrines held by the Priscillianists were a mixture of Manicheism and Gnosticism.. They denied the Trinity of Persons and advocated Dualism and Docetism. They held the use of flesh-meat and marriage to be unlawful, but permitted sexual intercourse, on condition that generation should be prevented. They celebrated their orgies with great debauchery, and principally at night. For the suppression of this abominable sect, stringent laws were enacted by the Synods of Astorga and Toledo, in 446 and 447. Even as late as the year 563 the second Council of Braga found it necessary to adopt measures against the Pricillianists. After that, the sect disappears from history.

And there is this, and this, and this.

This would seem to me to be spinning an erroneous narrative from out of a tiny thread of truth. Isn’t that some new word that Stephen Colbert coined? Yes. Truthiness. And as everyone knows, books are the sworn enemy of truthiness, as Stephen explains here (forgive any commercials please).

Go with your gut—not! And seriously, once again, stuff like the RCTV video at the top of this post leads folks, who presume that what Mr. Voris is saying is factual, to doubt their appointed leaders. I’ve already covered that topic once before, remember? Follow your bishop.

This is where the YIMCatholic Bookshelf earns it’s keep, see? Because if what I found there supported Mr. Voris’s assertions, this post would have been written to reflect that. But, as my research shows in this particular matter, the Priscillianist heresy has nothing whatever to do with what he purports it has to do with. So this latest video, then, is much ado about nothing. Zilch. Nada. Zippo.

But you don’t have to take my word for it. Using the search window of the YIMCatholic Bookshelf will bring you at least 27 books explaining this heresy in varying detail. Want to see what St. Alfonso Maria de’ Liguori has to say about them? Please do! While you’re there, look up assorted other information alluded to, like the Council of Sarragossa, etc. And then, there is Google.

Got reference questions? Want to do some fact checking? Fight “truthiness!” Stop in to the YIMCatholic Bookshelf. It’s open 24/7 and all at the low, low, price of “free.”


CLOSE | X

HIDE | X