Humor Me, Part 7 (A Mere Rant)

Alrighty then…a rant I shall give. A little over a year ago I began to hear a certain word used to describe pretty much everything. Within the space of a couple of minutes, a young person with whom I was conversing mentioned something about the “amazing “cookie she was eating. After that, she said that a class she was taking was equally “amazing.” In short order, some person she had met was, you guessed it…”amazing.” I thought to myself that either this person was easily amazed or, poor dear, she had a very limited supply of adjectives.

It was actually much worse than either of those. This lovely young college student had contracted a nasty case of “tired word” disease. Whether she was the host, the “Typhoid Mary” as it were of a new contagion, or if this was an isolated case, I had no way of knowing. But my suspicion turned out to be correct. Before too long, “amazing” became the super adjective – infecting an entire nation.

I received an e-mail just the other day that began with: “Hello Amazing Pastors…” and it went on to describe the “amazing” ecumenical prayer meeting in which we had recently participated. The recent inauguration was filled with “amazing” declarations as well; to wit: “It is an amazing day for America;” “The scene at the Mall is amazing;” “Michelle Obama looks amazing;” “Aretha Franklin was just …amazing;” “As has already been mentioned, Barak is an amazing dancer.”

Yes, I have been following the ubiquitous outbreak of “amazing” like a crazed scientist at the National Center for Disease Control tracking an outbreak of Ebola. But the analogy breaks down. Ebola just kills people. A tired word makes life tedious and not worth living.

Alright, that was hyperbolic. But seriously, am I the only one who feels a little bile in the back of the throat when it comes to overused, trendy expressions? My wife is a school teacher. On her blackboard she has written a series of words with the heading: TIRED WORDS. These include, but are not limited to the following: “awesome, cool, amazing, nice, good, & sweet.” She corrects the students if they happen to use them in conversation or in a paper. The whole class is allowed to shout out, “Tired word! Tired word!” In my mind this is a proper use of scorn. We must begin early or one of these children might grow up to become a broadcaster for MSNBC.

C.S. Lewis once said, “Verbicide, the murder of a word, happens in many ways. Inflation is one of the commonest…” Studies In Words, chapter 1, pg.7 I couldn’t agree more. How many people really know the etymology of the word: “amazing?” The original meaning of the word lies right before our eyes if we will simply break apart the strong intensive prefix “a” from the second part, “maze.” A “maze” comes from the Old English word, amaison, which meant: “to stupefy, to bewilder, or to make crazy.” This was the common usage of the word in the 13th century, 1230 to be exact. Its more common meaning in today’s vernacular of: “great beyond expectation” didn’t show up until 1704. So, for a little over 400 hundred years, an “amazing cookie” was one you probably would not want to eat. To be described as an “amazing dancer” would make sense only if you saw ME dancing.

As I was warming up to the idea of writing this blog, a good friend of mine (and yes, he is “good”) asked what I would make of the song: “Amazing Grace.” I considered that pedantic meddling on his part. Growing up in the buckle of the Bible Belt, the song “Amazing Grace” was like the Baptist National Anthem. Here I was – about to launch a righteous tirade against a tired word, and my “good” friend presents me with a moral dilemma. Was I now to downgrade this most beloved song because of my own pet peeve?

But then I began to think that maybe, the author of this great song, John Newton, knew what he was up to. He wrote the lyrics to this song and presented each verse as an outline for a sermon he gave on New Year’s Day in 1775. The very first verse makes a strong argument for the original meaning:

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me…”

To John Newton, and to me, grace is “stupefying & bewildering.” It doesn't make sense. Is it also “beyond expectation?” Sure. I am big enough to grant that meaning. But…doesn’t the original meaning of the word give the whole concept of grace just a little more gas? God’s grace in my life does "stupefy and bewilder" a wretch like me. I don’t deserve it. He gives it freely. And, from what I can report thus far in my journey, this grace is never ending.

That is truly amazing.

(As a bonus to this blog, please enjoy the following link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mMVxzEueJ6A)

Be well blessed...

-CJ

Humor Me, Part 6

This is a “tweener” post. I am still dealing with humor, but not yet ready to crack the code in regard to the surprisingly humor-filled book known as Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. Perhaps I will get to that later this week. No, I wanted to pass along this story while it is still fresh. Funny stuff happens and it sometimes gives us a glimpse into the Father’s heart. Perhaps this story will bring a smile and some encouragement to your day.

I woke up this morning in a foul mood. I am not sure why – exactly. Just one of those, “Stay out of my way…I need to go fester, fester, fester all by myself” kind of funks. I hope you can relate.

I decided to go hit the gym. Jan and I gave gym memberships to each other for Christmas. A gift of love – almost as good as the vacuum cleaner I bought Jan for Valentine’s Day when I was a poor seminary student. For some reason she enjoys telling that story to roomfuls of women. The story has made her much happier than did the vacuum cleaner.

The gym has been great for foul moods. At least being sore gives one an excuse for foulness. For the first time in my life I had 200 pounds well within my reach – especially following the holidays. The only exercise I had been getting was the primal scream therapy each morning as I passed by the mirror - thinking a dumpy, naked man had entered my bathroom. I weighed 135 when Jan and I got married. She used to refer to me as her “Skinny Little Husband.” It has been some time since she has used that endearing phrase. I have suspected a new moniker has already formed in her nimble brain, but because she is fine Christian woman, she has held back.

Anyway…I began my morning routine on a cardio machine - a treadmill. The old ones were really boring. This one is spiced up quite a bit to help pass the time while walking in place. It has a TV monitor and an iPod docking station. I usually use the iPod.

Now, to get the iPod going you have to start the work-out program. It begins at a snail’s pace while you fiddle with your settings. Here is where a crisis of pride sets in. I have owned an iPod for 2 years and have just started messing with it. I have had other people load up songs on it for me. Being a “Rev.” people would assume I would want a few gigs of worshipful music. Not so. I find a lot (not all) of Christian music predictable and sometimes boring. I would say that 2/3 of my iPod music is merrily agnostic. Anyway…the pride thing sets in by how long you sense you are allowed to fiddle with your iPod before your work-out begins. Being the paranoid type, I assume people are timing me and rolling their eyes while I take one laborious step after another and squint and poke at the little buttons and arrows.

To speed things up, I have just hit the go/all button and have been treated each and every time to the tormented life of Alanis Morissette’s first and best album, “Jagged Little Pill.” A lot of the words would make a sailor blush. For those familiar with the album, I end my cardio cool down with the song, “Ironic.” (Chorus: “It’s like rain on your wedding day. It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid. It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take. And who would have thought it? It figures.”). It is angry music - but strangely playful. It has served me well the first few weeks of working out.

This morning, there was no one around. I thought to myself, “I have time to fuss with this because the last thing I need is Morissette angst.” For once, I noticed the shuffle option. Somewhere in my deep heart of hearts I prayed, “Go God.” “Go God” is my default prayer when I don’t really feel like praying. It is similar to the wind and finger method of Bible study: “God, if you want me to hear from you – open the Bible where you want and reveal to me Your mighty wisdom.” (I was encouraged to hear that Jonathan Wesley actually did this from time to time). As I touched the shuffle mode on my iPod, I said the “Go God” thing.

Here’s what happened: God possessed my iPod and bombarded me with songs from the brethren: Dave Crowder; Steve Bell, Michael W. Smith, and Paul Baloche – each singing their joyful salutes to the Lord of hosts. But, it gets better. I hate the treadmill and am very particular about ending after 20 minutes so I can do all the fun, grunty stuff that men like to do in gyms. I hit the cool down button where you just shuffle along for about four minutes. Guess what song came on at exactly the moment I pressed the cool down button?-Ironic, by Alanis Morissette – my old “ending” tune. That’s God just showing off.

The word, ironic, is defined as: “incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.” I sort of expected God to be in the same mood as me. If I woke up foul, then I was pretty sure He was in a smiting mood. (I wonder how many sermons have gone all Cotton Mather because a particular preacher had a bad week). I know that we tend to do this with people. Somehow, when we are in a ratty mood, we project the black ooze within us onto everyone else. In spite of what we have heard, misery really does NOT “love company.” Misery despises company and pushes them down the stairs.

God pulled some irony on me today. God is not unlike a parent who takes a child, who is pitching a hellish fit, and attempts to re-direct his or her angst with humor. He is, after all, a Father. And we, even the best of us, are still infants. Of the hundreds and hundreds of songs in my iPod, God sent me four as a sort of “I dare you not to smile.” – A bit of Divine incongruity between what I expected and what actually occurred. Ironic, huh?

Humor Me, Part 5

Humor is, as I have mentioned, a gift from God. Humor can take almost any situation and somehow blunt the horror or the sadness of an event with a prescient & witty observation. We call our friends to cheer us up, to lighten our day, to make us laugh. We don't call them with the hope of hearing tales of woe and burning worlds. I have heard incredibly funny stuff at the bedside of a terminally ill, bed-ridden cancer patient - from the patient himself. I have experienced the joy and the relief of laughter at a funeral. Now, no one in the room was so calloused that they denied the physical and emotional torment of the moment – but humor did somehow expose this great truth – that the suffering was a moment.

Humor reminds us that suffering is not the norm. Tragedy invades us, and as one writer said, “surprises us.” The very reason that suffering seems invasive and surprising is due to the fact that our God is a good God who desires good for His creation. When it doesn’t play out that way, we are, naturally, surprised. Humor nudges us back to the truth that suffering is irregular & temporal – thus ultimately less powerful than joy. (Joy is eternal humor – the best kind to shoot for).

My dad relayed a wonderful story to me recently that involved a roomful of my Irish Aunties and my Irish Granny. All of them have long departed this earth – sad – right? But, somehow the anecdotes from their life lessen the loss I feel for each of them. They still somehow live through the gift of humor. Here goes the story…

The Riley sisters were gathered in Chicago at the home of Aunt Maude. My grandmother, Juanita (Note: Here is something funny - Grandma wouldn’t allow anyone to pronounce this beautiful Spanish name the way it was supposed to be pronounced. She insisted that it be pronounced: juh–night-uh!) had made the trek up to Chicago from her farm in Northeast Missouri. Also in the room was my Aunt Virgie. Aunt Virgie had gone totally Chicago –gladly betraying her humble rural origins. I saw pictures of her from the roaring twenties. She was a genuine “flapper.” Aunt Maude, who also lived in Chicago, had settled into the “Archie Bunker”, working class, section of Chicago. My Grandma remained unchanged throughout her life. She was a single mom who had raised her only child (my mom) and somehow kept the family farm solvent while going through the Great Depression and the death of her husband. To get these three together always provided ample opportunity for the most outrageous conversations.

My parents happened to be there on the day the sisters were gathered. Unfortunately, my dad was suffering from a nasty headache and had retired to a couch while the sisters visited. As he lay there suffering, he listened in as the three sisters carried on what seemed to be three different conversations at the same time. Finally someone brought up a name that all the sisters knew. This brought unity and focus to the conversation. Gossip always does. I will share with you the conversation as my dad relayed it to me…

Aunt Maude: “Well, you know...she has to shave now. (Long pause) She has a mustache…” (Another long pause)
Aunt Virgie: “That’s because of those 'harmones' (sic)…”
Grandma: “ Harmones HELL…She’s FRENCH!”

In spite of the splitting headache, my dad began to convulse in laughter – as did I when I heard the story. The funeral for my beloved, feisty, quirky, Irish granny was a moment in time. This story transcends time.

One of the most consistent themes in the voluminous writings of CS Lewis was the issue of joy. It was he who said this: “Joy is the serious business of heaven.” (Letters To Malcom: Chiefly on Prayer, p.93) Lewis never dismissed the notion of suffering. In fact, he wrote about it extensively. But, he never believed in the notion of suffering as a natural antecedent to joy. He spoke of it more in terms of a temporary vapor that would not withstand the light of day. Joy is eternal. Suffering is ephemeral.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is called “the good news.” It is referred to prophetically as the “glad tidings which bring great joy.” If joy is the serious business of heaven, Jesus is the poster child of that great enterprise. “…Because of the joy awaiting Him, he endured the cross, despising the shame.” Hebrews 12:2 Followers of Him take note…

Of all the people in the world who should be the least depressed and the least sidetracked by the vagaries of this life – it should be the person who not only has placed his or her faith in the glad tidings – but who is now internally & eternally connected with that source. Being a Christian is not the mental ascent to a preferred set of beliefs or values. It is not even really about trying hard to be good. Being a Christian means that you have allowed yourself to become inhabited by joy itself. A persistently “depressed believer” is an oxymoron. We’ve neither the commission nor even the right to carry such a burden. Our only commission is to carry Him.

Be Well Blessed…
-CJ

(Note: The next Blog on Humor – Part 6 – will examine that super hilarious book: Foxe’s Book Of Martyrs)

Humor Me, Part 4

When I was a youngster, my pop stepped forward and volunteered to coach my baseball team. He didn’t go off the clock for the next eight or nine years. Year after year, when spring rolled around, we would go down to Beavers Farm Implement where all the baseball equipment was stored for the winter and load up my dad’s truck. After that, we would load up a bunch of boys and drive to a local park for practice – and more practice. We ended up with two city championships for my little league team, the Farrier Construction Mets, and two for my Babe Ruth league team, the Kiwanis Club.

Youth baseball is a pure sport without much attention paid to specialization. It is a pastime of generalists who just enjoy the sport. During any given game, a kid who started out on the pitching mound might end up catching. A catcher might toss off his gear and be re-deployed to third base. A third baseman might make a move to the outfield. In other words, one person can serve many functions. In the majors, a person who can play many positions is called a utility player. You don’t see them too much anymore, but when I was a kid, the baseball cards I collected often said “utility player” underneath the player’s name. I loved those guys. They could play any position – just like us little leaguers. One summer, I had a real streak going with a guy named “Ducky Schofield – Utility Player.” It seemed as though every Topps baseball card I bought - which included that little flat, tasteless sheet of stiff bubble gum – there was my friend, “Ducky.” Ducky didn’t make it into the hall of fame, but he became a short-lived, common-man, hero of mine.

There are certain words that I have come across that play the roll of utility player. Because words evolve over time in their usage, they can mean one thing to one generation and something quite different to another. Allow me to illustrate…

I am used to reading old guy stuff, i.e. guys who have been dead awhile. Once you get into the rhythm and the vernacular of a different era, you can manage quite well. However, the sometimes jarring disconnects between their antiquated language usage and ours is occasionally brought back to me through questions asked by new readers of old stuff. I was chatting with a young fellow the other day who was reading, at my recommendation, a 19th Century preacher who was considered “the prince of the pulpit.” The title of the sermon that he read went something like: “The Importance of Ejaculatory Prayer.” My young friend was troubled. I suggested replacing that “e” word with “enthusiastic” every time he came across it and all would be well. You get that sort of thing when you read the old guys.

Now, there is one word that has managed to straddle two ages and whose meaning is clearly defined by context. The word is “wit.” Originally, the word “wit”, which came from the Old English word “witan”, meant: “To know.” It is closely associated with the Germanic word “wissen”, which means: “To see.”

We witness these variations in such colloquial usages as: “I am at my wit’s end”; “That was a witty invention”; and “It was a stressful situation, but he kept his wits about him.” All of these infer a sense of knowledge and perception.

The word “wit” in our day has also grown to mean funny or humorous. To be a “witty” person is a high compliment because from one’s lips or actions, something is expected that will bring amusement.

I will now venture some conjecture. How is it that knowledge, perception and humor have grown from the same soil? Is it one of those etymological accidents, or is there some great truth to be discovered? Well, of course, I believe the latter…

Humor, or wit, primarily derives its strength from the power of observation. Likewise, to keep one’s wits in a stressful situation means that you are able to see options – again through the power of observation. To be witty or to keep one’s wits – there is an ability to not allow a given circumstance to define one’s reality. Read that last sentence again. It is huge.

I have a witty friend – in both senses of the word – named James Lane. James is an engineer, a musician, a rancher, an inventor, a writer, and a mechanic. It is the last one that has made an impression on me time and again. Although I can work on cars when a gun is put to my head – I do not like it. As any good mechanic will tell you, fixing a car isn’t the hard part – diagnosing the problem is where the challenge lies. Checker Auto has been the happy recipient of many disgruntled (Pointless Note: Disgruntled, verb, 1) a pig who has lost his oink) visits from me as I have gone wholesale, buying part after part after part thinking that I had made the right purchase - only to be disappointed that the new part didn't fix the problem. (And being all honked up at myself for having just replaced a perfectly good part that didn’t need replacing). James doesn’t experience these trials. He usually can diagnose and fix a mechanical problem in one smooth motion. I have also witnessed him pulling a Macgyver. (Note: Urban Dictionary definition of “pulling a Macgyver”: Macgyver, verb, 1) To create or fix anything with something totally outrageous and unrelated. 2) Someone who can jump start a car with a cactus. 3) The ability to use a Dorito, a paper clip and duct tape to build a time machine. Example: Guy 1: “Dude, my car broke down on the highway.” Guy 2: “What did you do , dude?” Guy1: “I totally macgyvered that sucker with a shoe string, belly button lint and a leftover Budweiser can.” Guy 2: “Cool…dude.”)

The point is this: Most people, when faced with an automotive crisis on the side of a highway, allow the moment to define them. Their options narrow because they can no longer think beyond the circumstance. Not so with James. I have been with him on motorcycle rides where one of us has broken down. James smiles and gets busy and starts shouting directions: “Here, bring me that piece of wire off that fence over there, scrape up that piece of gum and grab that dried earthworm. That should do the trick.”

Humor plays the exact same roll in our lives. Stressful situations roll in on us and the humorless are overwhelmed. The mechanism by which a person keeps his or her wits to creatively fix a situation is the same employed by the person who can ferret out humor in the ordinary affairs of life.

And there is this - these two types of wit find an apex of agreement in the antonym: "dull". A dull person is neither funny nor terribly creative. Language usage tells a tale. Somehow the connection between “wit” as “knowledge or perception” and “wit” as “humor” has produced a marriage between the two. Over time people began to see, based upon experience – that, well, witty people are witty – and vice versa! :)

Now allow me to pull a Kierkegaard, he, of “leap of faith” fame. Just as the two definitions of wit have an apex of agreement in the antonym “dull”, so too I believe, they have an apex of agreement in what I will risk as a synonym with the word “faith.” Faith is knowledge, perception and yes – humor - all rolled into one. Faith does not allow circumstance to define what it sees. Faith always perceives better options and preferred futures – always. Faith rejoices (joy is holy humor) in all things because it knows how the story will ultimately end.

For those caught up in the dull dreariness of a faithless life – I offer you Jesus. Take just one snapshot from His life and you can begin to see the story of a Savior who kept His wits about Him.

In the book of Mark chapter 4, you have Jesus taking a boat ride with His disciples to catch a little R & R. As the boat moves out across the Sea of Galilee, a storm arises. The boat begins to take on water and Jesus just snoozes away. The disciples – trapped by a lack of perception, and seeing a watery grave as their only option, begin shrieking. It should be noted that there were many fisherman aboard who should have manned up to the situation – but as it so often goes with unbelief – it became a fast-spreading contagion. More than likely, Matthew the tax collector was the first melt-down, but that didn’t matter. It soon became a chorus.

The disciples poked Jesus and informed Him of their dire situation. And, being Jesus, He exercised His option by simply telling the wind to hush up – and it did. And then, He in effect told the disciples to “hush-up” by saying: “Why are you so timid? Where’s you faith?” In so many words Jesus was asking them why they had chosen this one option , fear, when they had so many others from which to choose – options which faith would have revealed. (Of course, waking up Jesus turned out to be a pretty good option – it always is).

The story doesn’t end there. As they debark from the boat, we are given the account of a horrific greeting party. It is the middle of the night, they have just survived a terrific storm, and where do they guide the boat? - To a graveyard. That is troubling enough. But, this graveyard happens to be the home of a guy who Mark tells us was filled to the brim with demonic guests – a thousand or so. So, get the picture: The disciples have not even had a chance to dry their togas from the passage across the sea when they land their boat in a graveyard and are met by Hannibal Lecter, naked and in chains.

What would you do in this situation? Some obvious options would be to: run, scream, cower, or hide – or all of the above. Fear is the opposite of faith, and thus the opposite of wit. Fear paralyzes and narrows possibilities. Faith and wit frees and releases possibilities. They help you to play loose. Jesus exercised faith. He kept His wits about Him and reached for the very best option and healed the man.

How is it with you? Are you at your wits end? Has a circumstance overwhelmed your mind and your heart to the extent that your options have narrowed to the thin gruel of worry, fixation, and fear? Listen up -we serve a God who is never, NEVER surprised or vexed by our circumstances. While we may be overwhelmed, He is not. Faith, wit, is the ability – and even the responsibility – we have of: “…casting our cares upon Him, because He cares for us.” I Peter 5:7 Just as fear is contagious, so is faith. As we place our faith in Him, He will pour His faith into us. He who “rides above the heavens” will give us a Divine perspective on things. He has made it pretty easy for us – the only thing that we need to remember when trying to keep our wits about us is...Him. He really doesn’t mind being bothered in the midst of the storm.

Thanksgiving

Most of the news sweeping our country – and indeed, our world - is troubling. It is difficult to get our minds around words like “depression” and "economic fixes" that reach into the trillions of dollars. To try and find something to feel good about as it relates to economic health and well-being seems a lost cause. Along with that, we still have young men and women serving in harms way in nations that have grown increasingly hostile and unthankful as it relates to their efforts. We are a nation that is broke and at war.

And yet, here we are at Thanksgiving – a time when we as a nation pause to say "thank-you." Most of us know that our first Thanksgiving was celebrated in 1691 by our forefathers to commemorate the harvest reaped by the Plymouth Colony. It was not an “official” holiday as such. It was more a spontaneous outpouring of thanks to God for His provision.

President George Washington was the first President to declare Thanksgiving a holiday in 1789. If you have never taken the time to read this declaration, please take a moment to do so. I would even encourage you to read this with those whom you share Thanksgiving. It almost qualifies as a devotional…

The Thanksgiving Proclamation
New York, 3 October 1789

By the President of the United States of America: a Proclamation. Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor--and whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me `to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.' Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be -- That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks -- for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation--for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his Providence which we experienced in the tranquility, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed--for the peaceable and rational manner, in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national One now lately instituted -- for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed; and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us. And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions--to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually -- to render our national government a blessing to all the people, by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed--to protect and guide all Sovereigns and Nations (especially such as have shewn kindness onto us) and to bless them with good government, peace, and concord -- To promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us -- and generally to grant unto all Mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best. Given under my hand at the City of New-York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.
George Washington

Seventy-four years later, a tortured President in the midst of a national struggle and a nation awash in the blood of its youth, would codify Thanksgiving as not “a” holiday, but as a “national holiday.” In an attempt to unify our fractured nation, Abraham Lincoln made this declaration:

Abraham Lincoln's Thanksgiving Declaration:
"The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added which are of so extraordinary a nature that they can not fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever-watchful providence of Almighty God.

In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign states to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere, except in the theater of military conflict, while that theater has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defense have not arrested the plow, the shuttle, or the ship; the ax has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well as the iron and coal as of our precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege, and the battlefield, and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow-citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next as a day of thanksgiving and praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners, or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the imposition of the Almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it, as soon as may be consistent with the divine purpose, to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and union.

In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed. Done at the city of Washington, this 3d day of October, A.D. 1863, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty-eighth.

It is fitting to remember that Lincoln made this proclamation during a very depressing, eventful and hopeless time in our nation’s history. Let me give you a brief timeline…

May 3, 1863 Abraham Lincoln and congress institute the draft. Every able man from age 20-45 is called upon to shore up the Union forces.

May 1-4, 1863 The Union Army is soundly defeated at Chancellorsville under “Fighting” Joe Hooker. The Union Army losses are 17,000. The South loses 13,000.

May 10, 1863 The South suffers a huge blow as Stonewall Jackson is accidently felled by one of his own sentries.

July 1-3, 1863 One of the most memorable and epic battles of the Civil War takes place at Gettysburg. What began as a skirmish ended up involving over 160,000 soldiers. The Union loses 23,000 men while the Confederates lose 28,000.

July 13-16 Upon returning from the smoking battlefields of Gettysburg, the tired soldiers are called upon to quell anti-draft riots in New York City. 120 citizens would die along with property damage estimated at 2 million dollars. (about $70,000,000 in our current economy).

August 21, 1863 Out west, the notorious pro-slavery guerilla leader, William Quantrill, leads a massacre that fells 182 men and boys in Lawrence, Kansas.

Those are just a few of the highlights that offer the backdrop to a sad and tired President announcing that Thanksgiving would become, now, a national holiday. It seems counter-intuitive does it not? And yet, it was exactly the right thing to do at that moment.

Thanksgiving is one of those commands of Scripture that requires some grit on our part in order to obey. The command is monolithic in its sweep: “…in everything give thanks, for this is God’s will concerning you in Christ Jesus.” I Thessalonians 5:18 The command just sits there – cold and unfeeling - without any particular concern for our particular circumstances. The word “everything” really means everything. It is one of the least practiced commands that I can name. Many commands of Scripture are peculiar to a given circumstance of temptation. “Do not steal…” merits practice on those occasions when we might have an opportunity to actually help ourselves to something that is not ours to take. That is true of many of the commands – they are situational and opportunistic in nature.

But – this positive command to walk through life as a “thanker” [sic] – requires a wholesale rewiring of the defective units that we are. We are born complainers, whiners, dark-siders, foreboders, critics, nay-sayers and nit-picks. Thankfulness and gratefulness are neither inborn gifts nor are they natural inclinations. Thankfulness is an intentional, willful and sweaty discipline.

I have found that it is best to remain elemental in the practice of this discipline. In other words, I begin with those things that I am able to do each morning. Because I have had friends over the years who were paralyzed, I begin by thanking God that I can shower, dress, and feed myself each day. That is a big deal.

As I tool about my house, I thank God for all the “stuff” that makes my life richer than a medieval king. I have cold food in the fridge and freezer. I have a magic flame that appears when I merely turn a handle that will cook my food. If I am really in a hurry, I have an enchanted box that will enhance the speed of cooking to a mere minute or two. The only reason I have to burn candles is if I want a nice fragrance in my house – not in order to see. I get into my mode of transportation and my beast of burden carries me safely back and forth to work –with heated or with cooled air depending on the season - and I only have to feed it two or three times a month. Most of my work is done in the confines of an office. I can access the entire database of man’s knowledge with the press of a finger. I can write and make mistakes and not have to use white-out.

My point is this – there is an endless list of categories given to us to explore that could easily invoke a steady stream of thanksgiving from our hearts and lips. The command to be thankful at all times is not all that difficult to do. We just have to remember to do it.

And here is the thing that I have found – the practice of thanksgiving is transformative. Becoming a thankful person changes our perspective from one of narrow-minded pessimist to possibility-filled optimist. An ungrateful heart sees lack, limit and disappointment. A thankful heart sees millions of “colleagues” in the host of good things that have graced his or her day. Having taken note of these heretofore unseen graces, the thankful heart can lay a sure bet that there will be more good things to come – at just the right moment and in the right amount.

Which person would you rather be?

Humor Me, Part 3

Segue – It is more than an odd form of unsuccessful transportation used by Google employees - which they spell "Segway." Segue is a smooth transition from one set of thoughts, scenes, rhythms or scales to another. Sometimes the segue is seamless. Sometimes it is abrupt and offensive. You be the judge as to the relative skill I exhibit in pulling off, in this blog, a smooth segue. Your vote counts!

…But not so much – if you voted Republican. Alas, the man with the beloved Celtic “Mc” in his name was shot down for the second time in his life. Fortunately, there were no angry Viet-Cong waiting to torture him – just a host of finger-wagging Republicans. “Ah, Mac, we barely knew ye.”

My personal props to President-elect Obama - I pray God’s best for you and your family. Your success is our success. May the wisdom that transformed Illinois’ former favorite son – old Honest Abe – be yours in double portions.

To Governor Palin – the woman who can “bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan” (and field dress it when necessary) – take good care of that crude oil up there in the land of Seward’s folly. You might consider hosting a hunting party with some of your media detractors who could think of nothing more important to talk about than your clothing budget. Be sure and invite Dick Cheney. Up to this point, he has only shot his friends. He might jump at the chance to “wing” a left-winger.

And Vice President Biden - what joy you will bring the disenfranchised party for the next four years. As Katie Couric nodded in agreement, you reminded us that President Roosevelt went on national TV during the great stock market crash of 1929 to comfort the nation. (Never mind that President Roosevelt wasn’t inaugurated for his first term until 1933 and that television was in its infancy in 1929. 

(See: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTBZHf6WyG0&feature=related). 

But, no worries Joe, I’ll send you an MP3 file of the Gettysburg address I downloaded from YouTube. Man, Lincoln rocked at that one!

Oh, and one more…President Bush. Near history is almost always unkind to departing Presidents. Perhaps one day historians will be amazed that you were able to keep another 9-11 from happening for seven years. I read that, last week, one of your dogs bit a White House reporter. Was that one last pre-emptive strike?

Let’s see….where were we? I believe that before the elections and all of that brew-ha-ha, I had set my heart on talking about humor. I need it and our nation needs it. So, let us be done with the wearisome ways of politics, crashing stock-markets, “prop” this and “prop” that, and return to some decent mirth.

And with that, let me just say: sniglets are cool. A sniglet is a word that doesn’t appear in the dictionary, but should. Let me share a few examples…

Nagivator: a spouse who sits by and criticizes the driving or his or her spouse.

Cheedle: the orange residue left on your fingers after eating cheese-puffs.

Bo'zone: the atmosphere surrounding stupid people that will not allow bright ideas to penetrate.

Cashtration: the act of a young couple buying a house, new cars and amassing credit card debt to the extent they become financially impotent.

Hipatitis: terminal coolness.

Reintarnation: coming back to life as a hillbilly.

Arachnoleptic Fit: that crazy dance you do when you walk into a spider web.

Now that you have the hang of it, I thought I would take a crack at a few church sniglets – having logged several decades in and around the brethren. I will offer a brief narrative set-up for each. Here we go…

Potential sniglet combo: Organ + Spasm…I once dated a German Lutheran girl back in my early college days. One Sunday, she invited me to her German Lutheran Church to hear her play the organ. Growing up a low-church Baptist, I was expecting to hear her wail away on a Hammond B3. Much to my alarm, I saw her seated on high, a mere speck in a choir robe, encircled by a monstrosity of an instrument complete with ginormous pipes that ran from floor to ceiling. The music was, to this young lad, somewhat sonorous and depressing. The congregation mumbled along with none of the Baptist zip to which I was accustomed. But the thing that I was totally unprepared for was the ear-shattering burst that took place when the organist put the petal all the way to the floor to signal the congregation that it was time for them to join in with the melody of doom. It nearly shot me out of my chair, this boisterous: organ-asm.

Potential sniglet combo: Spiritual + Stifle…I readily admit that I found church quite boring as a young boy. My eyes were forever casting about to find something interesting or amusing to get me through the service. Highly attuned to the little sinner that I was, I found myself parked snugly between my father and mother each Sunday. My mom always made certain she had her pearl ring turned upside down in order to whack my little butch-waxed head should I momentarily lose control. As I grew older and my parents released me to sit wherever I wanted in church, I found that the little boy in me remained. Because of my powers of observation, I had noticed that a person’s face, in the moment of some deep spiritual revelation, contorted in a way that was remarkably similar to a person attempting to stifle a laugh; i.e. tightly shut eyes, little tears trickling down the cheek, and bent over, shoulder-shaking convulsions. Thus, one Sunday, when in a “Selah” moment of the church service, an elderly gent released a rather garish discharge of gas, I was immediately able to employ the: spifle posture. I was spifling. Many were impressed at the sincerity – and the frequency - of my deep spiritual contortions and thought that I was surely destined for ministry.

Potential sniglet combo: Hippopotamus + Hypocrite…And, I was frequently reminded of those things I should not be doing, thinking, or thinking about doing. It was a lot to remember. In fact, I spent a great portion of my life trying so hard not to do things, I forgot to DO things. Many of the sermons on self-control were delivered by gents who apparently felt that gluttony was sacrosanct to the issue at hand. As they maneuvered their colossal bellies around the pulpit and shouted at the elect to knock it off, I could think of but one word: hippotocrite.

Potential sniglet combo: Prayer + Snooze…Returning for a moment to my incredible powers of observation, this one has come in quite handy over the years. But, alas, it has been a sword that has sliced both ways. During a church service, thoughtful, meditative prayer is always an accepted option. But, it is amazing how quickly prayer can degenerate into a selfish nap. I must admit, I have enjoyed a few refreshing moments myself with the pleasant “white noise” of a dull sermon humming in the background. I have, however, not been so pleased when I have been the speaker and have caught a congregant in the act of: proozing.

Potential sniglet combo: Deacon + Terminator…In the church in which I grew up, the fellowship hall was located in the basement directly under the sanctuary. The flooring of our sanctuary was a hard-wood floor. When I was about eight years old, a friend of mine and I escaped from the church potluck and wandered off to explore the rest of the building – to see what it looked like and felt like without big people around. We went up to the second story and rifled around a bit. We investigated the Pastor’s office. Finally, bored – again- we decided on a game of tag and began tearing around the sanctuary in our little hard-heeled church shoes. The wooden pews, we found, offered a great challenge as we leapt from pew to pew. The waxed wood floor provided a surface like that of an ice-skating rink. It was then that Deacon Grigg appeared. His face was a color similar to that of the purplish red beets which were the customary accoutrement to a Baptist feed. He was doing some heavy breathing from having sprinted up two flights of stairs. It was at that moment that my friend and I experienced the apocalyptic wrath of the: deaconator.

It has been an odd journey to be a churchman these many years; and, moreover, to be one who is so easily and so sophomorically amused. I was rebuked once by a man who I never once saw smile, let alone laugh, that I needed to be more sober – like him. I found the prospect dreadful. I was trying earnestly NOT to be like him. Yet, there have been times when I have prayed with great urgency and fervency that God would help me to hold it together – whether preaching or listening. So far, that prayer remains unanswered. The human condition – mine included – is a never-ending source for material that moves at light speed from observed act to funny bone – with nothing in between. I was born without a buffer. I blame both my parents. They remain in their golden years notorious inappropriate laughers.

Yet, even as I have chuckled and laughed my way through life, it has not been without its costs. I have a permanent callous on the inside of my right lower lip where I have bit down hard while in the act of spifling – hoping that the pain would somehow tame the mirth. It did not. It has not. And, I would not be surprised to find that I may have sacrificed a few blood vessels in my brain, and destroyed a few synapses trying to hold in an incautious and ill-timed guffaw. The pressure of restrained laughter really does hurt. It should be discouraged.

No…I recommend laughing and asking for forgiveness later. Laughter heals us. It is a gift from God. It helps us not to take ourselves all that seriously. That is a good thing. Self-deprecating humor is close kin to humility and God says that we need that to both love Him and to move His hand on our behalf. He is not interested in the proud, and by extension – the humorless.


Be well blessed…
-CJ

Cultural Conditioners & The Etymology Of Conservatism

Election Day + One, 2008
By CJ Alderton

Note: I take a break from writing about humor in order to do a sort of self-exorcism in regard to politics and the season we each have just endured. I am so looking forward to hearing once more about the virtues of Viagra, Preparation H and local car commercials. Anything - ANYTHING besides one more universe ending, back-stabbing political drone. Bear with me this brief rant. This should hold me for about 48 months. I hope to be funny again soon. :) Here we go...

_______

I have said little during this overheated, hyperbolic political season regarding my views -save to family and a few friends. There is a natural bias against encouraging the clergy to become too politically engaged. Add to that bias my own advanced talent in regard to conflict avoidance, and you have the perfect ingredients for what appears an apathetic sideliner. I am anything but…What follows is my reflective apercu at some sort of resolution regarding the seismic shifts that have occurred in the last few months. This is also my own humble plea for a return to conservatism – rightly defined. Let’s begin there… (If you consider yourself more liberal in your persuasions, please don’t abandon my project just yet. I believe that we may be “good friends well met” before we’re finished).

The etymology of the word conservatism is found in its verbal root: “to conserve.” The dictionary definition says this: “the disposition to retain what is established and to practice a policy of gradualism rather than abrupt change.” A true conservative conserves that which is good and elemental in a society, in a family, a church, a business or even a baseball team. And, a true conservative understands that any change carries the risk of unseen consequences; thus, it is wise to move toward change in a thoughtful and measured fashion. Because of the advanced pace of change in the past few decades, the late William F. Buckley, that erudite conservative voice for over a half century, described his task as standing astride culture and yelling, “Stop.” This conservative sensibility is not, nor should it be the exclusive domain of either the Republicans or the Democrats. To the extent that one is comfortable with the etymology of the word conservative, a “liberal” could be called a conservative. (A good read of history proves this to be true. In some countries, liberal actually means conservative).

Operational definitions are important. That is why we should leave the definitions of words in the hands of those who give us our dictionaries. Unfortunately, the word “conservative” has picked up a few barnacles the past few years, losing - as has so many words - its original meaning. It has come to signify: mean-spirited; selfish; greedy; bigoted and far-right. By its etymology, it is not that.

On a practical note, most of us live out the day to day affairs of life as conservatives. Conservatism in our daily lives means that we are pursuing a kind of peaceful & predictable equilibrium. There are things in life – many things - that we like to have “stay put.” We like them the way we are. We work hard; we pay our bills, fix up our house and mess around in our yards so that we can establish a place that is comfortable and predictable. We frequent a certain coffee shop or restaurant – not because of its novelty – but because of its predictability. If someone were to drive around and do donuts in our yard and re-arrange our house – and if our coffee shop began serving watered down drinks – we would be upset. Why? Because something peaceful and predictable – something that works – has been disturbed. That is conservatism.

So, let’s return to the definition of the word conservative for a moment: “the disposition to retain what is established and to practice a policy of gradualism rather than abrupt change.” Please note the last word of the definition – the word, “change.” That little word has been the catchphrase of one side of the political combatants this political season. It has been, to a lesser degree, employed by the other side as well.

When our founding fathers gathered to do their own version of blogging, viz. diaries, and books, The Constitution and such – they were doing so with a very cosmopolitan world view as a backdrop. They were men who had witnessed the devastation and tyranny of a government system that had become incredibly domineering. These were men of letters. Many were fluent in several languages. Nearly all were entrepreneurial in character. As they formed up their new union they tried their very best to codify a system of government that would safeguard liberties which would allow future citizens to advance in life as far as their own talents and energies allowed them. Their understanding of a good government was one which preserved the right to follow after life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness with as few restrictions as possible.

It was the over-reach of the British government that helped foment the rebellion. There were simply too many rules, too many demands, and too many affronts to personal liberties that oppressed the human spirit. In addition, our founders became highly suspicious of a government that would try to curry favor from the people by promising to do for them those things they were capable of doing for themselves. They feared, as they wrote our founding documents, that there would come a day when the people of the United States would, one by one, weaken and surrender their liberties in exchange for more government solutions and hand-outs. In a prophetic look down the road, Thomas Jefferson expressed these fears by saying :

“Nor should [a legislative body] be deluded by the integrity of their own purposes and conclude that… unlimited powers will never be abused because [they] themselves are not disposed to abuse them. They should look forward to a time, and that not a distant one, when corruption in this, as in the country from which we derive our origin, will have seized the heads of government and be spread by them through the body of the people, when they will purchase the voices of the people and make them pay the price. Human nature is the same on every side of the Atlantic, and will be alike influenced by the same causes.” - Thomas Jefferson: Notes on Virginia Q.XIII, 1782. ME 2:164

Our nation has grown to almost three hundred million people. Yet, much of our lives are determined by the few hundred people who make up the legislative, judicial, and executive branches of government. As a nation, we have gone the way of other failed cultures by asking for more and more government involvement in our lives – just as Jefferson had feared. There is a predictable result to all of this: The more government we ask for, the more we are governed.

Pick any issue that you can think of and I can guarantee that there is a warehouse full of career bureaucrats wheedling away at policies who will eagerly rush in to: constrict, restrict, plan, fine, complicate, hinder, disallow, and tax that enterprise. Government, i.e., governing others, is a tumor that can only grow. It knows no other function. This governmental creep has often been compared to a pig. But perhaps a better analogy is a sheep. A sheep has no natural mechanism for signaling to its brain that it is full. It will literally eat itself to death. To save the sheep, the farmer has to “stick” it by cutting open its belly and pulling out the fermenting gorge. (Although somewhat tempted, I will not chase that analogy any further).

I have no political home these days because both parties have proven themselves ravenous sheep. Granted, one sheep seems to be further skilled in its gluttony – but that is merely a matter of degree – not intent. Both of their compasses are pointed at the “all you can eat” buffet. Why do I say this? -Because this political gluttony is endemic to both Republicans and Democrats. Each side promises those things which will perpetuate until death political careers. And we, the people, continue to leave the gate open for our particular favorite sheep.

Let me speak plainly. The old maxim: “All politics are local” underscores this point. We might loathe a political hack such as Republican Senator Ted Stevens who, while convicted of seven felonies, brazenly chose to defend his long-held seat in the senate. Or, we may de-cry the boorish behavior of Senate Majority Leader, Democrat Harry Reid, who has lined his pockets with favorable land deals but has managed to avoid any investigations because of the power he wields. Yet, there is little we can do about them unless we happen to live in their state. And they, skilled at bringing home to their own constituency a few pieces of political pork, continue to get re-elected, ad infinitum. We who have asked for our little piece of the pork find ourselves incrementally more dependent on and obligated to our pet sheep. We despise another state’s sheep. Another state hates our sheep. Because we are not able to vote out another’s sheep (which would be a grand idea!) we become more and more governed. Now and then the electorate rises up to vote in a President who plays the conservative card to remedy this frustration – but the conservatives elected to the highest office invariably turn out to be poorly named.

What is distressing about the past few months is that the checks and balances meant to impede government overreach have been blurred beyond distinction. A supposedly conservative President Bush has, on his watch, brought the country to a place where nationalization of our economic sectors is not only seen as necessary, but good. In the past, when a tin-pot dictator in another country has nationalized his countries energy supplies and infrastructure – and in so doing has booted out American companies who had made massive capital investments – both Republicans and Democrats have decried such actions with great alacrity. Hugo Chavez of Venezuela is the most recent example. To have heard Democratic Senator Chuck Schumer – a dependable Bush-basher - defend President Bush a couple of years ago against the rants of Chavez was refreshing…and rare.

But here we are: a nation of failed banks, strapped hedge funds, and tightened credit markets - a stock market that has shed trillions of dollars of people’s retirements - and what we are promised is more government. The very people who led us into this swamp are now asking us to trust them again. And congress, right on cue, reacted in a predictable fashion to the 700 billion dollar bailout plan. With all of that money in play the sheep lined up for the buffet. At one point there were 2000 proposed earmarks attached to the bailout. An earmark is a barnacle that is added to a piece of legislation by a local politician that…brings home money…to his or her constituents…so that he or she can get re-elected…and; ad. inf., ad naus.

The most disquieting thing about this election is that we have had presidential candidates promising to act like congress, i.e., to act like sheep. Both candidates promised more government help and more government solutions. This isn’t change. It is the old buffet system on steroids. One of the reasons that only two Senators had ever been elected President in our nation’s history was the wise understanding within the electorate that these Senators were too accustomed to standing in line at the buffet table. With the Senatorial halls being peopled with folks who had little experience or appreciation of restraint, the good judgment of the American people leaned more toward governors. Governors, it was thought, had at least some skill at operating a brake pedal. We have had no such choice in this election. Senators we have been given.

Moreover, neither has owned a business or have had to worry about making a payroll. And, I am sure neither of them has read the 18th Century classic by Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations. Had they done so, they would understand that prosperity flows from liberty and that liberty produces liberality, i.e. more jobs for more people. Government cannot create jobs that produce. Government can only create tax-supported bureaucracies that consume. But, government can play an important role by getting out of the way. The current electorate seems anxious for just the opposite. I was watching the news the other night and heard a supporter of President-elect Obama say this: “When Barak is elected, I won’t have to worry about putting gas in my car or paying my mortgage. If I help him, he is going to help me.” Oh really? She has inadvertently stated the quid pro quo - perfectly.

As I mentioned earlier – I am done with political parties. If I could bring back the Whigs, I would do so. They believed in the genius and energy of the common person to solve his or her own problems and to create wealth for all by hard work and ingenuity. They were resistant to a large, intrusive government that would propose to dictate every facet of life and to involve itself in every challenge. That is a foreign idea in our present political climate to both the elected and the electorate. Professional politicians have a vested interest in sustained dependence. As that dependence grows, the political machinery can mold the willing recipients of the bread-crumbs thus cast into whatever they wish.

C.S Lewis foresaw this in his remarkable series of lectures to a somewhat hostile audience in England, and later published in the book: The Abolition of Man. Few people have read that book these days – even Christians. They find it too difficult. (A more humorous version of these thoughts is found in Lewis’ work: That Hideous Strength). That is a shame because in it, Lewis presciently describes our current situation with these words:

“But the mind-molders of the new age will be armed with the powers of an omnicompetent state and an irresistible technique: we shall get at last a race of conditioners who can cut all posterity in what shape they please. "

–CS Lewis The Abolition of Man

Have we crossed into that moment in history where we are now unwitting subjects to the cultural conditioners? I would say yes. As the political parties dole back to us a fraction of the money and sweat they take from us – those political gifts will come with conditions – the quid pro quo will be enacted. Nothing will be off limits to the future corrosion of liberties – food, drink, transportation, industries, allowable speech, values, morals, risks, income – all will be moved in a direction to please the faceless, hum-drum cultural conditioners who work their craft in and through elected officials. Thomas Jefferson warned against this as well…

[A very capital defect in a constitution is when] all the powers of government, legislative, executive and judiciary result [go] to the legislative body. The concentrating these in the same hands is precisely the definition of despotic government. It will be no alleviation [relief] that these powers will be exercised by a plurality of hands, and not by a single one. One hundred and seventy-three despots [congress] would surely be as oppressive as one. - Thomas Jefferson: Note on Virginia Q.XIII, 1782. ME 2:162

If you sense a strong libertarian streak in what I am saying, you might be right. Be that as it may, my appeal for true change in the form of smaller government along with neutered and spayed politicians has a recent historical precursor in my beloved Ireland. Having for centuries been the impoverished step-sister of Europe and Great Britain, a few years ago the Celts decided to try something different. They decided to abolish the practice of taxing individuals and corporations in a confiscatory way and to reduce their nanny state chain of rules and procedures to a minimum. In addition, they decided to invest in education in such a way that it moved their young people toward marketable, high-tech skills. Businesses flocked to Ireland. The result has become one of the greatest stories of financial prosperity in the history of Europe. It is known as the “Celtic Tiger” and has moved the Republic of Ireland to the top of the heap. It is a model for what could happen here if the people – you and me – actually rose up and demanded less.

So there – I have given you my political rant – unasked for and perhaps unwelcome. I realize that I run the risk of being pigeon-holed within the ranks of those old men who sit around in their tweeds, sipping brandy, smoking their pipes and saying: “Harrrumph, Harrrumph.” To this accusation I would cheerfully reply: “Hear, Hear.”

Be well blessed…
-CJ

P.S. My treat – other great political quotes for you to enjoy…

“If you don’t read the newspaper you are uninformed; if you do read the newspaper you are misinformed.” - Mark Twain

“I contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle.” - Winston Churchill

“A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul.”

- George Bernard Shaw

“A liberal is someone who feels a great debt to his fellow man, which debt he proposes to pay off with your money.” - G. Gordon Liddy

“Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.” - James Bovard, Civil Libertarian (1994)

“Foreign aid might be defined as a transfer of money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.” - Douglas Casey, (Classmate of Bill Clinton at Georgetown University)

“Government is the great fiction, through which everybody endeavors to live at the expense of everybody else.” - Frederic Bastiat, French Economist (1801-1850)

“If you think health care is expensive now, wait until you see what it costs when it’s free!”
- P.J. O’Rourke

“In general, the art of government consists of taking as much money as possible from one party of the citizens to give to the other.” - Voltaire (1764)

“Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried.” -Winston Churchill

“The statesman [politician] who should attempt to direct private people in what matter they employ their capital would…assume an authority which could safely be trusted to no single person, to no council or senate whatever, and which would nowhere be so dangerous as in the hands of a man who had folly and presumption enough to exercise it…To prohibit great people from making all that they can of every part of their own produce…in the way that they judge most advantageous to themselves, is a manifest violation of the most sacred rights of mankind…” –Adam Smith

“We the people are the rightful masters of both Congress and the courts, not to overthrow the
Constitution, but to overthrow the men who pervert the Constitution.” - Abraham Lincoln