Pro-Life Update

I look up briefly from my studies to note an e-mail in my in-box from Americans United for Life, which is urging people to write or call their congressmen today. I reprint the notice here:

As I write this, I've just come from a meeting on Capitol Hill, and I have an update for you on the battle to keep abortion out of health care. The bottom-line message I bring you from the Congressmen and Senators we talked with is this: now is the time to act . . . and we need YOU to win the day. Senator John Thune, Chairman of the Senate Republican Policy Committee told us, "This is when it gets down to the serious moment."

The message of the day was that your Congressman really needs to hear from you. A vote on the U.S. House health bill H.R. 3942 could come to the floor as early as this SATURDAY. We heard today that after the wins of two pro-life politicians, Bob McDonnell in Virginia and Chris Christie in New Jersey on Tuesday, abortion supporters in Congress are "really sweating." It’s up to us now to be sure they understand that Americans do not want abortion in health care reform.

The House Health Care BillYesterday, the House Rules Committee announced that the "rule" for considering the health care legislation will include language put forward by Representative Brad Ellsworth, D-Ind. which the House leadership is FALSELY describing as "pro-life." Rep. Ellsworth claims his Amendment would "prevent tax-payer funded abortions." Unfortunately, his amendment does NOT prevent taxpayer funding of abortion.

The Ellsworth Amendment allows the public option to pay for abortion on demand and allows government dollars to go to private plans that cover abortion. This amendment would undermine the only pro-life amendment that truly protects life in health care reform: the Stupak-Pitts Amendment.

Our pro-life friends on the Hill are concerned that the pro-abortion House Leadership will deny the Stupak-Pitts Amendment a vote. But without that amendment, pro-life Members cannot vote for health care reform.

Following this is a request for calls and e-mails to congressmen to make the following requests:

Ask him to vote AGAINST a "closed rule"
(the rule is a procedural vote that determines whether a bill can receive a vote and a closed rule will shut out the Stupak/Pitts Amendment).

Insist that House leadership ALLOW A VOTE on the Stupak/Pitts Amendment to prohibit abortion funding (and no other watered-down substitution like the Ellsworth Amendment).

AUL has a handy e-mail page here.

October Christian Science Fiction & Fantasy Blog Tour

This month's tour features Eric Wilson's Haunt of Jackals. Wilson's website is here and his book trilogy website is here. Check out the tour here:

Brandon Barr
Wayne Thomas Batson
Jennifer Bogart
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Amy Browning
Karri Compton
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Beth Goddard
Todd Michael Greene
Timothy Hicks
Becky Jesse
Cris Jesse
Julie
Carol Keen
Dawn King
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Nissa
John W. Otte
James Somers
Speculative Faith
Rachel Starr Thomson
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower
Fred Warren
Phyllis Wheeler
Jill Williamson
KM Wilsher

A Groaner

The philosopher Rene Descartes moved to Sweden in 1649 to tutor Queen Christina. Descartes was a lazy man used to sleeping late, and he was now grieving over the recent destruction of the robot he had built to replace his dead daughter (the robot having been tossed off a ship by ignorant and fearful sailors), so he was irritated to find he was expected to lecture to the queen every morning at five.

One morning, however, the queen did not send for Descartes. Though he was at first inclined to take advantage of the situation and remain in bed, his curiosity was aroused, and so he arose, dressed, and found the chamberlain. When he did so, he asked, "Why has the queen not sent for me?"

The chamberlain replied, "Monsieur, Her Highness find this morning that she has quite lost her voice, so she simply cannot see you."

Descartes thought about this for a moment. "She's not ill, then? Surely she doesn't need her voice to hear me lecture."

The chamberlain answered, "Ah, Monsieur, perhaps this is true where you come from. But here in Sweden we know it is unwise to put Descartes before the hoarse."

Best Web Original Ever?

Yes, I haven't exactly been posting at a regular clip lately, for what I assume are obvious reasons...

But a friend sends this along, a bizarre little three-part short film by Joss Whedon, and I must pass it on to you, since it is approximately the best thing ever, or possibly the worst thing ever, or possibly the so-bad-it's-goodest thing ever:

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

I should probably warn of a little unfortunate raunchy humor in the third part, but I think the merits outweigh the demerits here. This little three-part show uses a lot of schlock to build up to something unexpectedly moving. The finale had me almost in tears and emotionally affected for quite some time after I saw it. It's weird how cheesy stuff can work that way.

(Okay, as someone pointed out, this has been on the Internet for over a year, but it's new to me, and it's probably new to some of you, so I'm blogging about it now. Got it? And as for keeping current--forget it. I'm not keeping current with anything right now, though I am managing to squeeze in time for some Wright novels.)

Arguably, this little three-part short film has a flaw; the transition from humorous to dead serious has only a little build-up, so it might leave some viewers cold, though I happen not to be such a viewer, having a fondness, for whatever reason, for funny things that turn unexpectedly serious, which is why I enjoy such works as Bone, Into the Woods, and Fong Sai-Yuk. The trick, I think, is to make at least one character likable enough that the audience can continue to care when his situation goes from funny to unfunny. In this case, I could certainly empathize with Dr. Horrible's hackneyed but hilarious situation: A geek falls for a girl and then fumbles around before she's stolen away by a hunk--as far as I'm concerned, that never gets old no matter how many times it's played, so I can follow him when his disappointments tempt him to the dark side.

On top of that, Dr Horrible has a fine little moral at the end: it is no good to gain the world at the price of your soul.

September Christian Science Fiction & Fantasy Blog Tour

This month's tour goes out to The Vanishing Sculptor by Donita Paul. Paul's website is here, and her blog is here.

Brandon Barr
Jim Black
Justin Boyer
Rachel Briard
Karri Compton
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Linda Gilmore
Todd Michael Greene
Katie Hart
Ryan Heart
Becky Jesse
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Julie
Carol Keen
Krystine Kercher
Dawn King
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Eve Nielsen (posting later in the week)
Nissa
John W. Otte
Lyn Perry
Crista Richey
Cheryl Russell
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Speculative Faith
Rachel Starr Thomson
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower
Fred Warren
Dona Watson
Phyllis Wheeler
Elizabeth Williams
KM Wilsher

Introducing a New Product from the Creator of The Sci Fi Catholic

I've been away for quite a while, but as usual I have an excuse. Although my past business ventures, such as the Tossed Cookies Plug-ins and Shiatsu by Shih Tzu were failures, my current one is sure to be a huge success.

You can tell this is a gluttonous society: we now actually bathe in food. The other day, I was in the soap aisle at the grocery store looking at the body wash and began to notice the various ingredients: mango, green tea, yogurt, honey, and even oatmeal. I said to myself, "This isn't soap, this is breakfast." Yet the foods offered here in the soap aisle are all woman-on-a-diet breakfasts. Where are the manly, meaty soaps to get my day started?

That's why I've created Hearty Breakfast Soap for Men™, made with moisturizing sausage and eggs, exfoliating hash browns, and coffee (a skin toner and emulsifier). Hearty Breakfast Soap for Men™ rinses clean with no filmy residue, making your skin feel refreshed, leaving behind nothing but a light scent of bacon.

Hearty Breakfast Soap for Men™ is also available with grits for extra exfoliating action. And try our new hand soap, The Lumberjack™, designed to remove even the toughest grime.

Hearty Breakfast Soap for Men™ comes with my personal money-back guarantee: If you're not so satisfied that you think you could skip your next shower, I'll give you your money back. And as my added gift to you, each bottle comes with a free hotcake-shaped body pouf.

They say the morning shower is the most important shower of the day, so start your day off right--with Hearty Breakfast Soap for Men™.

At the Seminary

To let everyone know I'm alive, I'm now happily installed at Mount Angel Seminary in Oregon. I haven't had the chance to post before now as we have been in our tightly packed orientation week. I'll put up some more substantial posts later when I have the time.

Notes on a Recurring Topic

John C. Wright has produced a six-part essay on the subject of why chastity is good, why the erosion of marriage leads to a breakdown in society, and why homosexuality is disordered:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

On a similar note, I'd like to apologize to readers for some of my posting on the same subject. I can't recall ever calling names, but at least one post I can think of off-hand (this one) is too flippant and can be read as a personal insult, which is not the way to treat people who are suffering. The post was meant to hold up as ridiculous the idea of setting aside a month to celebrate sexual preferences, but it does not work well, and can be read as a personal insult. Also, in another place where this blog appears, an old acquaintance of mine called me a religious bigot in response to my comments on the APA and reminded me that my opinions were apparently different back in high school, so this is a response to that:

You read the rough draft of my post, which contained some sarcasm the final draft did not. I'm sorry for that. I didn't realize the rough had been archived, and I did not think anyone could read the flippant line I later took out. When I deleted it, your comment went with it, so if you want to make the comment again, feel free. This time, you might try adding something to the discussion instead of calling me names. The label "bigot" is so easy to achieve these days, it is meaningless.

In regards to the quote you attribute to me, I've little doubt I said that or something like it. I said a lot of stupid things in high school, and I even meant some of them. Again I apologize to you: on a few occasions now, both back then and in the present, I have done a poor job of representing myself, my opinions, and my religion to you. My religion allows neither bigotry nor self-indulgence, and you've seen me practicing both.

I do, however, find it strange that you praise me for something thoughtless I said years ago, especially since the comment was a disparaging remark about women. When I criticize the American Psychological Association for refusing to treat homosexuals who want treatment, you call me a bigot, but when I practice misogyny, which is actually a form of bigotry, you praise me. That makes no sense to me.

Road Trip, Part 4

It has been a long journey, but I'm finally in Oregon. I'm currently in Troutdale, and will be in Mount Angel tomorrow morning.

The worst part of the trip of course was yesterday--I say "yesterday," but of course what you all experienced as a day, I experienced as approximately fifty years, since I had to drive down I-84 through the Waste Lands at the base of Purgatorio, between Utah and Idaho. As you know, I-84, considered one of the greatest engineering feats of the modern world, stretches in a long, three-thousand-mile arc around the toe of the Mountain, running generally northwest. Its historic construction was costly, both in terms of money and lives, as approximately twenty-five workers died mysteriously every day during its construction, not to mention the goats sacrificed every hundred feet along its length to appease the dead who haunt the Wastes. Most of those who died in the construction died of consumption, and some speculate that their lives were sucked away by the spirits of their departed relatives.

It is a strange, twilit country, those Waste Lands. Settlements along the freeway are few: small, creaky gas stations and greasy diners, mostly; towns are rare. The sparse trees are short and twisted, no buildings stand more than a story high, the road signs are bent, and the churches, what there are of them, have no steeples, for the spirits in that land of the dead suffer nothing to stand straight and compete with the Mountain itself, which rises in impossibly steep, unending layers above the highway. The people living here are also bent, hunched, as if the heavy presence of the Mountain has pressed them, crushed them down. The nights in that country are as bright as the day, lit with an angry red glow from the Mountain's peak, which is rimmed with unquenchable fire.

Just as other gas stations on other highways sell figurines or cheap toys, the gas stations along I-84 sell amulets to ward off the dead. At my first stop, I saw a small cross, which the clerk swore was made of real silver and cold iron intertwined around a sliver of white oak bark, blessed by the pope himself. I doubt this, though: It was too cheap, and the papal runes too shoddy to be genuine. I bought it anyway.

The motels along the road are filthy, but well equipped. The beds are not like normal beds, of course, but are instead cold tables inscribed with pentacles, the lines of which--at least in the best motels--are carefully maintained to ensure against breaks where a spirit might slip in. The nightstand always has an instruction manual in several languages, and for several religions; following the instructions for Catholics, I was always careful to arrange the proper objects around the pentacle every night before sleeping: a vial of holy water, an icon of St. Michael, a blessed Bible (open to 2 Maccabees 12.43), a crucifix, a garlic clove. Tying a cord around my waist, I would lie down in the protective circle and try my best to sleep, closing my eyes against that eerie red light streaming in through the curtains.

At either end of this three-thousand-mile stretch of ugly road, at Brigham City and Twin Falls, are stations where they make you stop to ensure your vehicle is properly equipped for the arduous journey. I've been down this stretch many times before, and the questions at the stations are always the same: do you have the proper amulets? have you learned the proper spells? do you know about the time dilation? any family history of vampirism, incubii, or tuberculosis? After the ministers of seven religions had exorcised my truck, and after I had been handed the obligatory multifaith amulet to hang from the rear-view mirror (but which I threw in the trash, as no self-respecting ghost could be afraid of it), I was free to drive on--on and on, through that never-ending hell that is Purgatory, a trip of decades that takes a day. I didn't age during the journey, of course, except for my hair, which is now full of gray, but I still had to live every monotonous minute of it. Small wonder every crossroads along the way--few though they are--is choked with the graves of suicides.

But I made it. The Mountain is behind me now, and from here in the Gorge I can't even see it, though it will be visible again, that cloud-rimmed cone, when I reach Mount Angel and the view is unobstructed.

Time for photos:

The darkness and oppressive sky of the unending Wastes.

Why, it's Baker City, Oregon, my old stomping grounds, where I grew up, fell in love, and did all that other important stuff.

Sort of, but not really, a wider view of Baker City.

Baker High School, the site of much adolescent melodrama, which doesn't look as important now as it used to. Notice the sign in front there: that's a fitting sign to put up in front of a modern public school.

August Christian Science Fiction & Fantasy Blog Tour

Oops.

I've been on the road and visiting home, and I was about to start in on an important post I hope I can get up tomorrow or the day after, and realized I once again spaced the blog tour. That's what I get for moving and utterly changing my life during a blog tour. My apologies to all tour members and visitors who have come to this blog looking for a book discussion and instead found narcissistic personal notes. I bet you never expected to see those on a blog.

Okay, the author this month is Robin Parrish, and the novel is Offworld*; as you can guess from the title, this novel is being published in a new experimental digital format broadcast from deep space. Contact your local SETI representative for your copy.

Hm, even I can't laugh at that. Okay, that's enough for title jokes. Let's get on to content:

First, you can see Robin Parrish's website here and his blog here.

The plot summary goes like this: The crew of the first manned Mars mission returns to Earth to find everyone else on the planet has disappeared, and...wait, didn't we talk about this novel in June? (Checking old post.) No, no, this one's different, though it has the same premise of a large-scale disappearance.

Says Frederation:

My biggest complaint was that Offworld shut down my willing suspension of disbelief at several points, and that takes some doing in a story I like. There was the characters’ Wile E. Coyote-like resistance to injury, a few car stunts that would make Hollywood filmmakers blush, and a key element of the story that gave me a whole new perspective on deus ex machina. [more...]

Whoa, that's actually a recommendation in my book. (And I'll add this is the only criticism; the review at Frederation is otherwise quite positive.

Projecting A has a brief bio of Robin Parrish.

A Place Called Fiction has a book trailer as well as a sample chapter.

Now the rest of the tour:

Brandon Barr
Jim Black
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Gina Burgess
Canadianladybug
Melissa Carswell
Valerie Comer
Karri Compton
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Linda Gilmore
Beth Goddard
Todd Michael Greene
Katie Hart
Ryan Heart
Becky Jesse
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Julie
Carol Keen
Krystine Kercher
Dawn King
Melissa Meeks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Eve Nielsen (posting later in the week)
Nissa
John W. Otte
Lyn Perry
Steve Rice
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Speculative Faith
Stephanie
Rachel Starr Thomson
Steve Trower
Fred Warren
Dona Watson
Elizabeth Williams

*Because it's off world, get it?

Road Trip, Part 3

I'm here in Kansas hanging with the fam, so I haven't had much time for blogging. The U-Haul is gone and everything in the truck is repacked, and it looks as if I'll get out of here with all the books I intended to take. A few last things to wedge in there, but I think I'll manage it. I will probably hit the road again early on Thursday.

The trip down, a total of two days, I made on a total of one complete meal, one granola bar, and two cans of caffenergy sauce. I arrived severely dehydrated and took a day to recover. I think I will treat myself a little better when I turn back around and head to Oregon, so I'm fit enough to pack all those boxes of books up to my room. Since this time I won't spend the morning of the first day packing and cleaning, I should be able to leave early and make good time even if I stop for meals.

I meant to have some Kansas photos for you; contrary to popular believe, Kansas is only mostly, and not completely, flat; I had a great view of beams of light shooting down through the clouds above the rolling plain, but it was gone by the time I found a safe place to pull over, so all I got was a lousy hill with a cloudy sky behind it. That's the second good photo I missed; I had a great rainbow on my first day, but it too had disappeared by the time I found a spot from which to take the picture.

Speaking of clouds and rainbows, I was followed by Oregonian weather on the entire trip from Utah to Kansas, and we've had intermittent thunderstorms the last couple of days, which have made my computer access especially spotty. This is, I assume, heaven's way of warming me up for things to come. On the plus side, since I assisted Mass on Sunday morning before hitting the road again, I dressed up and had, due to the weather, opportunity to wear that black greatcoat, which billows nicely in the winds of Colorado and Kansas.

Road Trip, Part 2

After much combined effort, we managed to hit the road this morning at about 10:30 or so. Weather was surprisingly wet and cold; as I'm headed for Oregon, Oregon apparently decided to visit with some weather. Today, I was in shorts. Tomorrow, I'll dress more appropriately--and it will probably be hot again.

I'm presently in Fort Collins, Colorado, which is halfway along the first leg of my first journey, the one I'm taking before I turn around and go all the way back again. Phenny and Frederick have already moved into Snuffles's cave, where they'll be living now that I'm no longer paying rent. Lucky wanted to come along for the trip because she wanted to spend time with me or something (I don't remember how she put it because I wasn't listening). Snuffles is accompanying me of course, because by grabbing the roof of the truck and flapping his wings, he can lighten the load and improve the gas mileage. He gets a lot of comments at diners, but he helps keep the cost down.

Having gone through Wyoming, my old stomping grounds, I'm reminded of just how big Wyoming skies are. When describing the sky in Wyoming in "Dragonsaint," I didn't have to exaggerate much.

The rig, ready to go.

Leaving Utah.

When the clouds look like that, it's a good sign you're in Wyoming.

Another shot of a Wyoming sky, with windmills.

Road Trip!

Tomorrow morning at 5:00 AM, I was planning to start the road trip that would eventually, God willing, bring me to safe harbor at Mount Angel Abbey.

Not gonna happen.

If I'm lucky, I'll leave at noon tomorrow, after I've cleaned this apartment and found a spot for those last few items I forgot to pack. Like the toaster. Curse you, toaster.

The plan, at present, is to pack all the junk I'm not taking to seminary in a U-Haul trailer and ditch both the trailer and its contents in the town near the fairy woods where my birth parents live, and then, my truck overflowing with the goods I am taking, turn around and drive to Oregon. Fortunately, I've given myself a number of extra days for this trip because, as I just said, it's not going as planned. If I'm lucky, I'll be out of here by noon tomorrow, and I'll have to repack everything once I get to fairy woods: it seems I tried to cram too many boxes of books in my truck, leaving no room for important things. Like clothes. I must make sacrifices; do I give up my books on folklore? On religion-themed science fiction? On martial arts styles? On guerrilla warfare? This is a quandary. I have already given up so many books that must now go into storage, I hate to give up more, but life does not, after all, consist in the quantity of our possessions. Not even, alas, in the quantity of our books.

Plus, I am not getting out of here as fast as planned because I spent half the day today just picking up the trailer, which was waiting for me in another town over an hour away, a town so obscure I had to ask directions three times just to get there, and at one embarrassing point I found myself getting cross with a clerk at entirely the wrong U-Haul dealership because I couldn't follow directions properly. The trailer being in the wrong town is not anyone's fault; apparently, I had reserved the last such trailer in all of Utah, or at least within a sixty-mile radius, and that just happened to be where it was. I guess it's moving season.

I will attempt to document the road trip on my blog. Occasional photos will be forthcoming, along with some musings about why I am going to seminary at all, a subject I have meant to post on but have not, mostly because I've been too busy getting ready to go to seminary, and partly because it's a personal subject I will have difficulty discussing without publicly embarrassing myself even more than usual. Plus, it will require me to drop character; the personality I portray on this blog is mostly an exaggeration of my real personality mixed with a number of outright fictions.

After today's comedy of errors, my priest and and a good friend in town were kind enough to send me off in grand style, with a vigil Mass for tomorrow's holy day, a fine dinner, and some parting gifts. Also, this road trip already has its inside joke ("It was impossible, man, like trying to rent a U-Haul") and a large cache of caffenergy sauce, which is also taking up space that could be occupied by clothes.

Lastly, I must add, without giving too many personal details having to do with someone else, that the father of a friend mine has recently passed away. Please pray for the friend, the father, and the family.

Best Movie Ever?

This movie preview for Raging Phoenix got me so totally pumped, I nearly kicked my mom right in the face. It's the new JeeJa Yanin flick from Thailand, and though it is unfortunately still made with that "real fighting" and "real injuries" garbage...it has dance-fu! Do you hear me? Dance-fu!!! And it has JeeJa Yanin, of course, which is also a bonus, and it even claims to contain the first film presentation of Chinese Drunken Boxing vs. Drunken Muay Thai.

St. Philomena's Feast Day!

Agh, I feel awful. Here we are into August and I completely forgot that today is the feast day of St. Philomena, [unofficial] patroness and muse of struggling, absent-minded science-fiction-writing seminarians! Some of my readers remembered my patroness better than I did and sent me reminders. For shame, Deej.

Hermeneutic of Continuity has a short write-up, and a picture I stole.