Loosely translated: “Sometimes, / When I look deep in your pants, / I swear I can see your soul.” Ha ha! Just kidding. But remember that terrible song “Sometimes” by that medium-terrible band, James? James: because what the world needs now is more Irishmen singing. He didn’t actually say “pants,” but it would have been a better song if he had. Hey, and look, it’s a bunch of guys wearing dresses! I suppose this is all my fault, too. Not... Read more
Thanks to all the linky love (oh sheesh, did I just say that?) from real websites like Mark Shea’s, Bearing, Betty Beguiles, And Sometimes Tea, New Advent, Betty Duffy, Darwin Catholic, Korrektiv, Alexandria, and others, I got a lot more attention than I’m used to for all this pants stuff. And, as Mark Shea’s readers pointed out, with great pants comes great responsibility. Which is to say that with a bigger audience comes many more misunderstandings. Some of that is... Read more
completely different. You’re welcome! This is our new favorite show: Pingu. Love the claymation, love the emotive language (especially the way the penguin midwife talks, that combination of meditative and matter-of-fact — why does it crack me up? And she carries a stethoscope and a SPOON in her bag!). Fairly sure Pingu (the big brother) is one of my sons. Ahh, nothing like anthromorphic penguins to soothe the soul after a long, hard week of arguing about pants. Truly, we... Read more
Sick of talking about pants yet? TOO BAD! I want to talk about pants! Some more! Actually, I want to talk about creeps. Because that’s what this is about: it’s about creeps forgetting to hide how creepy they are. So many people said so many smart things yesterday — but the best comments were the ones which rooted out the worst part of the original pantsalog. The worst part was this: [Wear skirts] for us, the minority of chaste men... Read more
Consider the following food for thought, and not a hard-and-fast directive. So in case you were under the bizarre impression that some random essay written by a layperson has some moral force, then rest at ease. I repeat, this is not a directive! But you better listen to me, or you’re going to hell. Top ten reasons I wear pants 1. I live in NH, where winter happens. Pants. 2. My husband finds most women’s pants to be more or... Read more
Hey, is anyone actually going to participate in the feebly-advertised link carnival for search term poems? I was going to have it tomorrow, but I’ll just skip it if you’d rather. Anyone? Also, I wrote something silly (no, really!) and just posted it at both The Anchoress and The Inside Blog. In the words of Gnarls Barkley, “Would it be so hard for you to come and visit me here?” Read more
In our recent discussion about the dubious heroism of Columbus, Lincoln, and Joel Hodgson (well, somebody should have said Joel), The Jerk did his job as peacemaker, and poured soothing oils on the stormy waters of our dialogue by bringing up the subject of fluoridation. For readers who are not familiar with The Jerk, he is this guy who writes for my blog, and he is a jerk. What’s the matter, The Jerk — sick and tired of having a... Read more
I don’t think Betty Butterfield is an acquired taste — I think you either find her funny right away, or just turn away in disgust and bafflement, and that’s that. Since Betty doesn’t explain herself, I won’t, either, but here are a few of my favorite clips. (These are not for kids!!) Betty does a whole series on visiting churches, and I think the Catholics come out looking the best. Here she is on her visit to St. Assisi Francentine:... Read more
In discussing history with my older kids, I always try to hammer home the following point: when someone tells you that this or that issue is perfectly simple, then that person is either stupid or lying. Here’s a satisfying case in point: a recent Salon article (h/t to Kevin James) reminds us that, despite what renowned scholar Dan “I know how to type” Brown tells us, it wasn’t the mean old misogynistic Church who led those infamous European witch... Read more
How sad — the long weekend is over. We had a lovely time devouring sausages and hot cheese dip, drinking beer and visiting with family, including our new godson, who is plenty cute, let me tell you. But I really didn’t mind handing him back to my sister when he wouldn’t quit squawking. Come see the stupid thing I wrote. It’s cross-posted at The Anchoress and Inside Catholic’s Inside Blog, so why don’t you pretend to be two people and... Read more
I Have to Sit Down
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