I love the feeling of a Saturday morning. Feeling a bit more rested, unwound, planning the day, having a nice breakfast. Such it is this hot June Saturday here in the land of Cowboys and Indians. As it were.
Woke up still early-ish but enjoyed part of an early movie snuggling with Peanut before rolling out of bed. And I’m now sitting here at the ubiquitous Okie staple Braums, a beloved Okie restaurant chain selling burgers, ice cream, and breakfast enjoying a “Big Country Breakfast” before doing morning errands.
Best Ice Cream in Town
Gotta love Saturday mornings.
Work:
Was a full work load this week with a few challenging cases. One colleague described the field we work in with people as “disgustingly beautiful.” And I’ve pondered that observation.
In this valley of tears are some people who are suffering at a level that is un-quantifiable, beyond adequate description to convey their misery, yet needing intensive care.
There is a peculiar kind of personal and professional development required in order to master how you manage your work, your own mental hygiene, and method of responding to “disgustingly beautiful” situations. As it were.
But I know that applies to every type of work...
Oklahoma:
So a fellow Trad and his, it seems, are about to take the plunge and move to Oklahoma!
To become fella’ Okie Trads, yessir!!
Air conditioning right now will be a plus. And lots of hydration. We’ve got nice weather here relative to some harsh environments out there, with mildly pleasant Spring, early Summer, Fall, and a Winter. But when the deep heat/humidity of Summer sets in by now, its a mental marathon until September. For me anyway.
But some good penance to avoid the decades or centuries of purgatory time that await most of us.
At least according to the tradition of private revelation to the Saints.
R&R:
R&R. Well the 20 minutes it’s taken me to write this out on my phone sitting up here at Braums already is resting and relaxing. I enjoy reaching out to like-minded, moderation loving Catholics, and right reason seeking people here in Oklahoma and beyond to share by own personal experience.
Gotta run. We’re planting flowers later in our garden and by our recently deceased dog's grave, then BBQ-ing by the river. Maybe read some too. I'm finishing a good book about a wrongfully imprisoned man in a Soviet, Siberian gulag.
Introduction: Friends and loyal readers. Fellow Okie Trads and Beyond. Lovers of right reason and civility. I shift gears to talk today about the passing of our dog Snowy, recently. She was a ten year old Japanese Spitz and died of cancer. I say "passing" because her "material soul" passed back to the elements, the night I had to bury her asap because of decomposition setting in, despite the torrential downpour of rain that Okie evening. Like all created things, as St. Thomas says, "we all come from God, and ultimately return to God." Of course like most dog owners who lose their member of the family, there is the rightfully lingering spiritual or religious question as to the ultimate fate of your dog. A dog who was more similar to a human being than most any animal on Earth. When in fact for centuries canines have artificially evolved, that is been bred, to be genetically linked and dependent upon us Homo Sapiens, and at least culturally we have become intimately linked to them. "Man's best friend." Snowy was the sort of dog you really love for how close an animal can be, at least materially and accidentally, to God. She was loyal, innocent as a dove, constantly obedient, almost never a trouble. She had eyes like that of an angel, the wonder and curiosity of a child, the heartfelt daily devotion, and the kind of creative, literally awesome playfulness that God intended for us human beings. Everywhere we went with Snowy, people stopped to pet her and admire her for her all white fluffy coat, her constant smile, and her innocence. The unique kind of innocence predestined not for us human beings who possess free will, but the kind of innocence God intends for his lower creatures. We've had two dogs since we were married. Snowy a white Japanese Spitz, who I call the "perpetual puppy" even 'til the day she died, and Peanut a black Dauchshund. We've joked how somehow Snowy was more my wife's dog, i.e. more attached to her, while Peanut is more my dog, going with me on hiking and fishing trips, and running around town. She loves her doggie pillow in the back seat and "cho-chos" from Chinese drive-ins. I call Peanut my "Backpacking Buddy," because she goes with me on solo backpacking trips into the deep woods and cuddles with me on my side of the bed. But both dogs truth be told, by default and not by choice, were, are, LIKE children. So the loss of Snowy was hard for us all here in our household. She will be missed. And if my personal theological opinion should perchance end up being correct, then if we make it through the Pearly Gates, we should hope to see Snowy on the other side. Syllogism: a) God is all powerful. b) He has the power to re-materialize pets in heaven. c) Scripture says God will in the end grant our desires, if we are saved. d) Well, I desire Snowy to be reconstituted in heaven, or by whatever metaphysical mechanism God chooses. to use. e) So if by God's grace I make it to heavenly glory I desire her to be there. f) Therefore....if God is true to His Word (He is), then Snowy will be wagging her tail, smiling, waiting for a cuddle when I should enter my eternal reward. God willing. Such is my syllogism. Take it or leave it. Which brings me to how Snowy died... Mother Mary's Intervention: On the night she died, she was laying on her bed on the living room. We were praying the rosary. We knew she was sick, but weren't praying as if she was about to die. We were just praying our nightly rosary, including intentions Snowy would "pull through." Around the 4th Mystery, I glanced at Snowy and her respiratory rate was extraordinarily high. Imagine a dog literally breathing as fast as she can. In that moment she actually looked somewhat at peace. Suddenly, the first time in a day or two, she stood up and walked like a happy dog over to her mamma. But fatigued to the point she collapsed. I was reminded at that moment of the time my childhood dog died, suddenly getting up to walk like she was trying to get away. My wife picked up Snowy and put her back on her doggy bed. As soon as we finished the 5th mystery, and prayed for the "traditional intentions of the Supreme Pontiff" (when a family prays the rosary and prays for the Popes's intentions [even a wicked pope hell bent on overturning the Church] they help release a poor soul from purgatory via the plenary indulgence), at that very moment Snowy's eyes started to glaze over. Her breathing became very, very shallow and labored. We went to her side to finish the rosary, caressing her sweetly created little head. This little creature God gave to us to comfort our family this last decade. A minute or two later she breathed her last. And I can testify such a dramatic observation is life changing. You see face to face the raw truth of Death. Dust though art to dust though shall returneth. Friends, the point isn't really that Snowy is in heaven. It is that God in His own nature, and all His Creation, in so far as His Providence directs our lives within that Creation, has and continues to use the material goodness, beauty, and truth of His creatures to comfort us, build up a Christian family life and society, ultimately as an aide for our salvation. Snowy, we will always miss you and remember your blessed memory. In the end, the fact we happened to be saying the family rosary minutes before your death, after a long life of ten years, is proof that Our Lady--and therefore Our Lord--was with you. And with us.
Kindly share with others. It's almost the weekend!
Was discussing the noble ideals of Catholic manhood recently with trusted Okie Trad friend over super fresh Friday night fish (at must visit White-river Fish Market in T-town), and he praised a new book he was reading on the subject by another relatively new to Oklahoma Okie Trad Sam Guzman of the widely followed Catholic Gentleman blog. The discussion got my inner wheels turning lately thinking about the daily endeavor of being a Catholic man in today’s culture. It has to be admitted by even those on the Left that entertainment media, music, and pop culture in many of its forms has successfully spread the message that men in their past, traditional Christian roles of monogamous husband, primary breadwinner, leader of the family, disciplinary and self-sacrificing father, masculine in physical size and tone of voice, is by those measurements a threat to society and individuals everywhere. Even if that man is as meek and mild as St. Joseph, known for those virtues and his daily habit of being a “quiet man,” or perhaps especially if he is of such moral or psychological temparement, then he is often portrayed as a weakling misfit with bottled up anger. Meekness, esprcially seen in men, like any Christian virtue, is convoluted by the modern today as something not only repulsive but a social and always potentially physical threat. Unfortunately the default for some male believers is to feed into the narrative of the authoritarian, macho, bigoted a**hole. The ideal of being genuinely authoritative in one’s leadership roles especially over the family as its divinely instituted head, of a level of masculinity according to the physical and psychological design God have you, and the biblical call not only to charity but civility in public society, has been set aside. By some. I don’t myself set aside efforts to improve a man’s physical appearance, status, personal hygiene, self-confidence, and social standing especially in the world of work. All of those good traits help promote civility, order, and stability. Grace builds on nature, so a man should take care of himself. But again we feed into the narrative of the liberal feminist, anti-man attitude if we spin our wheels day after day trying to compensate because the current culture, or lack of real culture, makes men in general out to be lazy, weak, irresponsible idiots. Unless maybe you’re a naturally Type A, pampadora hairstyle-sporting guy with six pack abs, who makes a solid six figure salary. And there’s nothing I can see wrong with any of that. But if said man focuses more on work than his family, spends more time at the gym than in the spiritual and moral education of his children, if he sexually objectifies women including his wife, then he makes men look as bad to society as the fat, lazy, alcoholic, low life. If a man is short, fat, and bald, makes a lower income salary, say struggles with PTSD from serving in the military, is at best an “average Joe” with a blue collar job, with some malformed social skills, who nonetheless morning after morning gets out of bed, pulls himself up by his boot straps, gets dressed, puts in an honest day of labor, and comes home every night to help his wife with the kids, spend consistent family time, and lead his family in their night prayers, then that guy, who many or most would on some level consider a loser, is in fact a true man. He is a badass Christian hero in the sight of God, the angels, and all people around him still in possession of their mental faculties and moral compass. Run on sentence intended! Well I’ll step off my soap box and get back to the grind. Lunch time is over. Over the hump, approaching the weekend!
A fellow traditional Catholic “JH” commented the other day on one of my latest posts reflecting on the “modern work week,” aka “the grind.” With permission, here are his own thoughts on the subject as a guest post....
Aside from the mid/post-industrial revolution period of unique, and novel, work activity, the workday of all ancients, aside from slaves perhaps, was far more filled with rest/leisure than today. Even one's walk to work was, in a more classical sense as expressed by Josef Pieper, *leisure*.
The present go-go-go reality of modern work methodology, still trying to recover from the post-industrial revolution attack on the human person for material gain, practically demands pleasure since it leaves no room for leisure.
Think of it in terms of hydration:
What's better -- sipping water throughout the day, or guzzling half a gallon all at once after nary a drop for hours of toil? Traditionally, one "sipped" leisure throughout the day. Now, we are expected to become parched of it until the weekend, perhaps an hour or two at night, maybe. What's the result? A problematic cycle of being parched, engorgement with water, and the outright slaking thirst when coming back to being parched. It's a recipe for disaster.
I don't think our grandparents' or even great-grandparents' generations provide a good model -- especially when dealing with a so-called Protestant-Work-Ethic culture at large. I think we need to look further back, prior to the coal and steam powered destruction of society, beyond the sea, to the cultures which built not only empires, but beauty. We can't go back, but we can emulate as much as possible. How, though, is according to each man's capability and particular situation.
Got this comment after discussing the Trad Blogosphere as of late the last few days, from someone in Chicago. Could it be the witty rad trads blogger from the Windy City Oakes Spalding, I wondered? St. John Cantius Church in Chicago, Illinois is pretty popular amongst trads. Perhaps if the trads will not listen to you, they will listen to Saint John Cantius himself:
Fight all error, but do it with good humor, patience, kindness, and love. Harshness will damage your own soul and spoil the best cause” - St. John Cantius
The Saint is talking about fighting error. Struggling against, seeking to put an end to the threat, defending divine and sublime truths from, using our virile might to oppose wicked lies, calumnies, heresies, doctrinal and theological errors, and all poisonous and life-threatening false ideas. Why fight with good humor, patience, kindness, and love? Because the power to destroy error comes from God. The more we laugh at the human task of fighting error the more we shed light on the humbling truth that even with all our might and cleverness, in the end our ability to do so is small compared to the power of God to do so. Humor insures that when we fight error by engaging those who promote error, we keep our humility and keep open the channels of conversion of our opponents. We swing our weapons, that is true teaching and timeless wisdom, while hoping the other person in the end will not die but be converted. If we just scowl at them condemning not just their error and evil deeds, but their person, we help bring ruin to them and theirs, and in the end to ourselves. That is what I take away from this Saint. Me I’m no saint. I’ve gotten unduly angry online before. And can testify it brings no peace of mind afterwards. What is the point of keeping the Faith and adherence to true doctrine if the purpose isn’t a state of peace, that is the peace of God. Arguments to the contrary usually reference Christ getting angry turning over the tables at the temple of those sacriligeously selling goods in a holy place. But ask yourself how many times did Christ get irate in the Gospels. It has its time and place when holy things are immediately under attack. But look at how our Savior dealt with all those who opposed Him with false teaching. Was his habit snark, dark sarcasm, insults, sophistry? Christ fought error with patience and love. And when the opposing party wouldn’t change their pride, he simply dusted the feet from his sandals and moved on. I don’t think any of this should scandalize my fellow traditional Catholic readers. Anyhoo, yesterday was really relaxing by the waters of Blue Hole Springs as I blogged about yesterday. I can’t say this enough: Blue Hole is a hidden Oasis. But this morning I woke up to 9 out of 10 stabbingly sharp pain in my left toe, from gout, so I’m just lying here on the couch today semi-immobilized drinking a lot of water to flush out the uric acid crystals from my interphalangeal joint. Incidents of gout started when I switched to a low carb, ketogenic way of eating, making the mistake of eating instead on occasion too much protein and not enough fat. Keto done right is really low carb-moderate protein-high fat. Toe is feeling better. Deo gracias. Have a good week. Onward and upward.
It's starting to get HOT here in the Sooner State, which calls for a day trip today to COOL off, at what I consider an almost unknown verifiable Oasis tucked away in the foothills of Eastern Oklahoma. More on that later. The Francis Effect ON US Trads: What an interesting week. Canon 212 has been extra saturated this week with its lately Top-Heavy headlines about the evil "PervFrancisChurch" enough to make many of us reach for the whiskey bottle, perhaps one too many times. But C212 is the default primary Trad News Source right now, which accompanies my morning constitutional, so we lovers of peace and sanity have to skim through the swamp of toxic headlines from the world to find something more sustaining, fruitful, edifying, and truly newsworthy. That is according to a few commentators here. Yet there is much that is offered daily on its pages of high caliber.
If you're reading this Frank, I hope you'll not take personal offense to my yes frank critique this week of the most current tone of your site. On behalf of daily readers like myself, who rely on your tireless, thankless, behind-the-scenes daily work of, who knows how, sifting through who knows how many hundreds of daily news sources and commentary...THANK YOU. I should buy you a steak dinner one day.....
So you're saying Okie the Trad Blogosphere isn't Real??
Huh...
But as I sit here after an eggs and bacon breakfast (thx wife) I ponder the underlying frustration that fueled the online backlash to my singular blog post the other day, as in Frank's polemical re-writing of the topic of my post which he posted smack dab at the top of his website (thanks for that), his v-blog comments later, and a few defensive trad bloggers reflexively questioning my...let us put it in PG language..manhood and state of my soul.
What's the deal, Okie Trad?
He thinks Frank you should stop the anger about Pope Francis, it seems.
Oh no guys. My blood sugar is just low. But seriously...
I Like You Pooh Bear...I mean Okie Traditionalist!
From personal experience in those said trad parishes and chapels, verified by many equal observations from fellow trads online, the Francis Effect on us trads needs to be addressed. The infighting, intra-trad fueds, needless divisions, obsessions with ideological differences on open questions, the growing bitter zeal and untempered snark, the ruin of friendships and collaborations (for example, for years weekly headlines at C212 and at 1P5 demonstrated a clear Walker-Skojec alliance; now turned on its head with ongoing sarcastic headlines) among fellow traditional Catholics, who are truth be told in the trenches together, is a serious scandal to all who encounter it.
The First Rule of Trad Fight Club:
Win the Argument at All Costs
On one hand, the Francis Effect has fortunately caused a certain paradigm shift in the Church for those Catholics who already have been espousing orthodoxy and pious practice, where conservatives are shifting to the right towards Catholic Tradition, the Traditional Mass, with growing numbers of motu proprio Masses, and trad parishioners and apostolates.
On the other hand, the very same Francis Effect has unfortunately caused a new phase or form of fomenting division among trads, brawling online and in the flesh over whether or not Francis is the pope, or Benedict XVI still is, or taking iron-fisted sides about online feuds between say Church Militant and Michael Voris VS. The Remnant and Michael Matt, or Frank Walker vs. Steve Skojec.
Ideologies giving rise to sub-ideologies giving rise to individualized micro-ideologies, made into quasi-dogmatic schisms between traditional Catholics themselves. It must be giving our traditional pastors grief how to manage the scandal.
In my opinion... Whiskey: Combined with soda water, or not, it makes for an excellent tonic in many cultures. I love it, truth be told. Our budget doesn't allow weekly purchases of Jack Daniels, which is oh so smooth, but it does of a fair substitute of Jim Beam. One of my just-got-off-from work Friday night purchases for the weekend.
Which calls to mind a post I'm proud of wherein I argued trads--me included--need to drink more alcohol! LINK Proves I am snarky too on occasion. All things in moderation, and all that.
Our sphincter muscles are constricted, serotonin levels out of wack, cortex's shocked by endless traumatic events from both secularist society and the apostate New Church. We've been demoralized, humiliated, gas-lighted, banished to the "peripheries" where Francis the Merciful himself avoids, and even worse: mentally and spiritually raped, murdered, cannibalized, cremated and set to be erased entirely from creation.
So yeah something has to give. We have to laugh at ourselves, be open to above the belt criticisms of each other, commit to civil debate about the multitude of issues--including the problem of a heretical pope destroying the Church--and yes drink more spirits. Blue Hole Spring:
In a few moments I'll upload this Saturday morning reflection, for what its worth to you--and start loading the trunk. Soon I'll be bbqing brats and jalapeno poppers, while sitting under a day tent, feet from Blue Hole Spring near Locust Grove. A beautiful, peaceful, blue body of water, fed by a spring, 55 degrees F (brrr), on private land, with picnic spots. Will swim, fly-fish, hike, eat, drink, converse, and check comments here! I highly recommend my fellow Okies checking it out.
Love this Video
And Wanda the owner--at end of video
Blue Hole Spring
Near Locust Grove, OK Happy Weekend Fellow Okie Trads and Beyond!
My first online exposure to Dr. Taylor Marshall was, what, three or four years ago when I read about this new online Institute he founded where you can take classes in theology and philosophy with an emphasis on the wisdom of St. Thomas Aquinas. Having studied Thomistic philosophy myself, I even wondered for a moment if his program includes other teachers. Being a former teacher—actually I firmly believe in the saying “once a teacher, always a teacher”—I’d love to teach courses on Thomistic thought. But I digress. This week Dr. Marshall released his new book, which I expect to be a best seller in trad circles, called Infiltration: the Plot to Destroy the Church from Within.
The premise is that the Church has become in Her practical life overtaken by destructive forces that have come together progressively since the nineteenth century. He explains the Modernist Crisis and its roots in Freemasonry, Communism, and other fundamentally anti-Catholic ideologies. The price tag does seem modest, and listening lately on occasion to Dr. Taylor’s podcasts, I can say I like him personally and his theological perspective. He brings to the table something young and popular, appealing perhaps to younger generations. And consider the impressive fact he founded one of the most successful and fruitful Catholic scouting organizations, the Troops of St. George, as a rightful alternative to the Boy Scouts of America,pardon me the now PC gender neutral “Scouts BSA.” But reading reviews of this book, in particular this week by Fr. Z, while the book’s style may be fresh and interesting, it does seem to be mainly a re-presentation of what, frankly, many of us have already learned from traditional Catholic intellectual giants studying the post-Vatican II period. I have no doubt Dr. Marshall likewise sat at their footsteps, or rather on their shoulders to see the forest from the trees. Giants like Archbishop Lefebvre, Romano Amerio, Michael Davies, Fr. Malachi Martin, John Senior, Christopher Ferrara, to name a few. According to Fr. Z anyway, the book reads like it was written in a hurry and is somewhat lacking in footnotes.
What I would say is, this book may help a certain target audience who might otherwise be ignorant there actually is a Crisis in the Church, but even better if it could present the information as coming explicitly from the intellectual traditionalist giants of the last fifty years. Is all Okie Trad is saying sitting here this evening in my Okie Armchair.
Dr. Taylor Marshall, a concert from Anglicanism, who is still relatively new to the Traditional Movement, just like all of us, sits on the shoulders of giants to see the bigger picture. Wishing his book and future contributions a success.
The present go-go-go reality of modern work methodology, still trying to recover from the post-industrial revolution attack on the human person for material gain, practically demands pleasure since it leaves no room for leisure.
Think of it in terms of hydration:
What's better -- sipping water throughout the day, or guzzling half a gallon all at once after nary a drop for hours of toil? Traditionally, one "sipped" leisure throughout the day. Now, we are expected to become parched of it until the weekend, perhaps an hour or two at night, maybe. What's the result? A problematic cycle of being parched, engorgement with water, and the outright slaking thirst when coming back to being parched. It's a recipe for disaster.
I don't think our grandparents' or even great-grandparents' generations provide a good model -- especially when dealing with a so-called Protestant-Work-Ethic culture at large. I think we need to look further back, prior to the coal and steam powered destruction of society, beyond the sea, to the cultures which built not only empires, but beauty. We can't go back, but we can emulate as much as possible. How, though, is according to each man's capability and particular situation.