July 14, 2019

I saw videos circling the internet– the video footage of Mike Pence in a black blazer and polo shirt, standing before a cage full of desperate men. The men were making fours and zeros with their fingers, crying that they had been there forty days with no shower.  And Pence stared absolutely coldly at them, not addressing them, just watching them suffer. Later he tweeted that the prisoners were receiving care that any American would be proud of, and that… Read more

July 14, 2019

In Eastern depictions, the Good Samaritan is Christ, the victim, Adam. You and I, already broken, waiting—Christ, the social outcast, helping when priests and holy men left us in the dust. Read more

July 14, 2019

I despise doing this twice in one month, and I’ll be on with actual content in a few hours. But I have to rattle my tip jar once more and remind everyone that more than 90% of my income as a blogger comes from gratuities. I work from home as a blogger because I struggle with fibromyalgia. I write about politics, religion and life in the Ohio Valley. If you like my writing, you put a few dollars in the… Read more

July 13, 2019

I’ve had to walk by the former House of Prayer and Peace several times this summer. It’s on the way to the pool, and Rosie is learning to swim. I try to walk on the opposite side of the street, because the abusive nun’s only recruit to her self-aggrandizing religious order still lives there. She is not allowed to wear the habit or go by her name in religion anymore, but somehow she got to keep the house. I have… Read more

July 13, 2019

  As I write this, it is Saturday, July 13. The ICE raids planned for Sunday have already begun in Detroit and some other places, according to what I’m seeing online. Their goal is to sweep up thousands of families– men, women, children and infants all over the country. Families will no doubt be broken up and sent to those squalid and inhumane prison camps we’ve all been seeing on the news. I’ve been trying for days to write something… Read more

July 9, 2019

    I just saw the most brilliant idea for a quick way you can help the migrants imprisoned at the Southern border by supporting one of my favorite charities, Immigrant Families Together. Immigrant Families Together is a charity that works fast to pay the bond for migrants trapped in those inhumane prisons, one prisoner at a time. Then they provide that person with legal representation for their asylum hearing, and pays for their housing, medical care, food and other… Read more

July 9, 2019

  [Blogger’s note: this piece was submitted to me by someone I’ve verified is a Catholic seminarian, currently studying at a seminary in the United States. I offered to let him write anonymously so that he could reach others without his privacy being endangered at the seminary. I think that young men like this, who understand what abuse really is, are the very people we need more of in the priesthood if we are ever to heal the Church. –Mary… Read more

July 8, 2019

We got through another Feast of Saint Maria Goretti and its aftermath, somehow. It’s over for a whole other year. I’ve already mentioned that I didn’t have a nice time. A rape survivor doesn’t look forward to fielding hordes of people who think that being raped makes you impure. That isn’t the saint’s fault; it’s the fault of victim-blaming culture and terrible catechesis. Still, I dread this time of year. The person who asked if I was “slandering Saint Maria… Read more

July 7, 2019

It’s been a rough twenty-four hours on the internet. It started Friday evening, with a man drunk-friending me on facebook so that he could tag me in a post bragging about how much tequila he’d had and how much he’d enjoyed watching a fight between me and somebody I’d blocked.  Yes, he tagged the blocked person as well. The next thing I knew, someone who has screenshotted my friends-only posts to bully me before was on the thread accusing me… Read more

July 6, 2019

  It is yet again time for that part of my job that hate most of all. I hate it worse than moderating comments, or answering the phone, or reading Chapter Two of a Baby-Sitters’ Club book. It’s the time when I remind everyone about my tip jar. I try to keep the number of reminders down to one or two per month, unless there’s an emergency. This month I saw a very puzzling comment, from someone who said that… Read more

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