We men used to could count on womenfolk to “sivilize” us.
We are now doomed. Enter the Red State world of the “Passion Party.”
From MSNBC:
Reinertsen, a no-nonsense 30-year-old suburban mom from Shawnee, Kan., goes on to demonstrate “Gigi,” . . . (snip) . . . by squeezing a generous amount of lubricant into it, then sliding and twisting it up and down the . . . (snip — you get the picture).
“This is going to make your job so much easier!” she says, sounding a lot like a vacuum salesman who’s just spread topsoil on the carpet.
At that, 15 women turn to look at me, as if to say, “Well?” It’s then I realize that being the only man at a Passion Party can be uncomfortable.
But in this room, I’m the only one blushing, which is saying something because Cathy Pearson, 44, is here with her two daughters, 18 and 24. Not only is she not embarrassed, she regards the sex toy party as a chance for some mother-daughter bonding, a deliberate effort to change the sexual conversation she heard as a girl.
“I was so sheltered … I was very naïve,” she tells me. Like many in the area, she grew up Southern Baptist, got married out of high school and “all I knew was this little world. When I got divorced 10 years ago, I felt so stupid.” She doesn’t want her daughters to feel the same way.
Five things pop into my brain, in no particular order:
1) Where are the Babdiss now when we need ‘em?
2) Where’s my late Aunt Sybil when we need her? (That’s jus’ not right, dahlin’! Put that stuff away! You tell them young gals to get married.)
3) I have no polite word for a mother who sees a sex-toy party as a means of bonding with her daughters.
4) Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions and at least one mortal sin.
5) If you need this crap, something’s wrong.
Tacky, tacky, tacky.
Categories: Uncategorized
If you make a name for yourself as an Inside Baseball critic of all that is wrong inside the Catholic Church, it makes people wonder when you up and leave. That’s what Rod Dreher has done. After half a decade of chronicling sex scandals and rotten prelates, he’s converted to Orthodoxy.
And that leaves folks wondering whether Catholicism is just so crooked deep down that it’s irredeemable, whether Dreher had some Eureka! moment when he realized that what he had so enthusiastically embraced as a “Pre-Scandals” Catholic was just so much bunk, or whether he still thinks that what the Church proclaims is true . . . but just not “true enough” to stand and fight for.
Given that the Church is a hospital for sinners, one can assume that goes for everyone in it, including its priests, bishops, cardinals and pope. Face it, in a family of more than a billion souls, there’s enough true bastards in the bunch to do a lot of damage to the Body of Christ. And the clerics of that bunch can do much damage, indeed.
That’s plenty justification for righteous anger. Lord knows, Rod — and many others of us — had plenty of that. Adding to that anger was the unfortunate tendency of many “clericalist” Catholics to put tribe above Truth and spend the past five years going “Neener, neener . . . cancel, cancel, cancel!” as they blamed the press (as opposed to Rampant Original Sin) for the Church’s problems.
But there comes a time when righteous anger has to be transformed. It must become something positive, something that leads to greater love and commitment, or it will devolve into an all-consuming bile that will cause you to do exquisitely stupid things.
The Mighty Favog (who considers himself a friend of Mr. Dreher) does not know a lot of things, and he is in no position to judge Rod Dreher, despite the grave nature of walking away from what Catholics believe was founded by Christ and possesses the fullness of truth. The Mighty Favog has been tempted to that himself but has been stopped by two questions (raised by Rod himself once or twice): Where then shall I go? If I believe Truth, and Christ, is here, how can I not be where Truth resides?
Even if I think some of the guys in red caps might be more justly attired in orange jumpsuits.
We, as Catholics, are called to Truth, not to where we’re least pissed off. We are called to be faithful, not comfortable. We, as Catholics, are called to stand with Christ and His Church.
Even if the homilies suck and the music is lame.
Why? Because it’s not all about you. Or me.
It’s about Jesus, and it’s about family. It’s about the Body of Christ being diminished when any one of us careens off the tracks.
Sick of cursing the darkness in the Church? Try getting off your ass and lighting a few candles. Start at your parish.
Combat evil by striving to be holy. Even if, most days, it doesn’t work out so good.
Fight your inner hopelessness by loving as if you had hope. Perhaps soon enough you will.
Let’s pray that Rod and his family embrace what they believe to be true in the depths of their souls, not what they find most peaceful and pleasing. May the grace of God lead them back home and strengthen them to cheerfully cope with all the family’s messiness, dysfunctionality . . . and occasional Crazy Aunt in the attic.
P.S.: Mark Shea says it all much better than I just did here.
Categories: Uncategorized
From MSNBC:
