Emotional Reaction Vs. Due Process
An interesting perspective on the South Carolina tragedy.
Horrible things assail us in the news at every turn like what happened in a quiet church in Charleston, South Carolina, Wednesday night. Our gut reaction is to be shocked, appalled, and outraged at these inhuman acts.
Emotions can break us out of complacency and motivate us to take positive steps in a fight against evil. The initial emotions flood over us, pumping adrenaline into our system.
At this point, though, we need to take a lesson from the press. Did I really say that? Yes. Even though there appears to be adequate evidence that Dylann Roof was indeed the shooter, reputable journalists refer to him as the “alleged shooter.”
Why?
Because we live in a country that was founded on the idea of due process. Our founding fathers believed that guilt or innocence should be decided in a court of law after hearing both sides of the story and…
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The waves will wash us away
“It’s interesting that there are only two sexes, male and female, and that those two sexes are required to produce a child. Therefore doesn’t it make sense that the offspring of those two sexes would need both sexes that created it to be a part of raising it? People feel sympathy for children who are raised without fathers either because they had dead beat dads or their father passed away, because it’s obvious those kids are missing out on something important…”
I remember the night Ellen came out on her TV show in front of millions of people. My mom and her girlfriend were big Ellen fans and we watched the show religiously. After the episode went off that night I was left with the sensation of a bomb having just exploded before my eyes and waiting for the fallout. Strangely, it never came. At least, not that I was aware of.
For me it seemed as though that was the beginning of this tidal wave that is currently descending upon society at the present moment. The onslaught of pushing homosexuality and alternative lifestyles into every nook and cranny is suffocating. I think that should speak volumes coming from a child raised by lesbians. From gay pride flags at military celebrations to smut mags at the grocery stores, homosexuality is being thrown up all over the place. While I agree that…
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Ode to the Hipster
This made me smile, particularly because here in my home city, we pride ourselves on our abundance of hipsters.
image: theberry.com
O, you magnificent Hipster, you!
You independent thinker, you counter-cultural devil!
Let us hear you espouse progressive politics and appreciation for art, indie-rock, and witty banter.
Let us hear you pooh-pooh your favorite band after they get played on the radio.
You are so hip!
Look at you puttering about your urban neighborhood in vintage thrift store clothing, tight-fitting jeans, complicated shoes, and special glasses.
Your messy hair bespeaks of effortless cool.
I see you are shunning mainstream advertising and media! (Except Apple).
And how diverse your friendships are!
But you reject the dude who says bro as your oppressor!
I suspect your choice of coffee is impeccable. Do you grind your own beans? But of course!
Hipster, you are the pioneer of trendiness! When we catch up with you, you have moved on. Or have begun to circle round behind us to wear something we stopped wearing long…
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Recipe for Single Moms
Many years ago, my three-year-old son discovered a love for food preparation. He’d come up with all kinds of concoctions. Here’s one of them:
½ gallon of milk
2/3 quart chocolate milk powder
Approx 8 tbsp salt
¼ can of pepper
¼ jar of onion powder
½ box of petit fours
In a saucepan, mix all ingredients together on medium-high heat, stir, and enjoy. Note: In order to capture every subtle flavor of each ingredient, it is EXTREMELY IMPORTANT to prepare before 6:00 am, before anyone else is up. I promise it will fill your home with a mysterious yet enticing scent, and will bring the rest of the family scurrying to the kitchen.
Doesn’t that look scrumptious? A half-gallon of milk mixed with chocolate powder sounds like a promising beginning, doesn’t it? Funny how life can imitate recipes. In my own case, life as a single parent started out not so bad. Once I rid my home of my alcoholic husband’s toxic influence, the atmosphere lightened as if the house itself breathed a big sigh of relief.
But then life threw a lot of salt into the mix. And way too much pepper. One of my sons began getting in trouble at school for disruptive behavior, and he was only 6 years old. His grades nosedived and his behavior grew increasingly unruly as the long year wore on. As this was happening, another son, the chef wannabe, was diagnosed with delayed development.
Sweet had turned to bitter.
I had eliminated one problem – abusive husband – but had acquired umpteen more. Child support was erratic, at best. Financial problems, like onion powder, is only tolerable in small doses.
Life had turned into a disaster that made me gag.
I decided I needed a way to sweeten up my life, and came up with the perfect solution: a delicious new romance! A purely selfish, yet pleasurable way to make life bearable again.
Of course, it didn’t work. Petit fours soaked in salt, pepper and onions aren’t so tasty anymore. Neither is romance when the rest of life isn’t working.
But here I am, twenty years later, my sanity still intact—at least, I hope it is. My son the aspiring chef is on the verge of graduating from college. My unruly son made it through school and has been on his own for many years.
So, you might wonder, how did I get from there to here?
It’s a long story, one I’ll have to save for next time. But it’s a testament to God’s grace. His merciful concern for the widow and the orphan.
Be sure to come back for the rest of the story.
~~Dawn V. Cahill~~
An Odd Kyrielle
More light verse–credit to Fearless Linda.
After writing my first Kyrielle yesterday, I apparently had Kyrielle rhyme schemes on the brain when I went to bed. Once the lights were out, the first stanza of one with the rhyme scheme in which the refrain does not rhyme started forming in my mind. When I had repeated to myself four or five times I realized it wasn’t going to let me sleep, so I flipped on the light and write it down in the notepad I keep on my nightstand. It’s kind of silly, but silly is good sometimes.
The handwritten version
I wrote the next two stanzas mostly in the shower this morning. Then when I read it to my son, he wanted to know if the refrain had to end with purple. I said, “I picked purple because it is a word that doesn’t rhyme with anything.” He replied, “You could have used silver. Or orange.”…
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Did Courtney kill Kurt?
This is a fascinating article on Kurt and Courtney. True confession time: My character Howard, aka Declan Decker (When Lyric Met Limerick), was loosely based on Kurt Cobain. However, Luna, his lady love, was definitely no Courtney Love.
The two-decade long question of whether or not Kurt Cobain really committed suicide came up between myself and my friend today. It’s been bandied about for years, but it seems no one has ever bothered to take it seriously or re-open the case to further investigate Cobain’s death.
Even though Kurt may have been prone to depressions and shied away from the stardom he achieved as both an early pioneer of the Grunge movement and The Poster Child of Generation X, I never believed he really killed himself. Why would he? He had everything–talent, success as the frontman of Nirvana, a bestselling record, a baby daughter, and a…ahem…new wife who everyone believed was in love with him.
It’s his wife, Courtney Love, we need to take a closer look at here. Most people just take it on faith that Kurt killed himself because his music was dark and depressing and…
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Would a narcissist who lost their memory “forget” how to be a narc?
Why it’s okay to kick a narcissist in the head…Thanks, Lucky Otter.
I saw this posted on Psychforums in the NPD forum:
I’ve long thought what might happen if an N suffered complete lose of memory. Would he remember he was narcissistic? There is a novel in which this happened. Ursula Brangwen in D H Lawrence’s “The Rainbow” falls gravely ill and recovers as a near as damn it normal person.
I know it’s a weird question but it’s interesting. I’ve read that sometimes people who suffer head trauma (without severe brain damage or damage to only a small part of the brain) that produces complete amnesia occasionally display dramatic personality changes when they awaken–even to the point of seeming to have a completely different type of personality than they did originally. It’s as if they are forced to use a different part of the brain and form a new personality — and new brain connections — from scratch.
In most…
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More light verse
“To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it,
Whenever you’re right, shut up.”
~~Ogden Nash~~
“The bill from college came today
For all our children’s fees.
As parents we are doomed to grow
Much poorer by degrees.”
~~Charles Ghigna~~
Tribute to Light Verse
“The hunter crouches in his blind
‘Neath camouflage of every kind
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his decoys.
This grown-up man, with pluck and luck,
Is hoping to outwit a duck.”
~~Ogden Nash
“God in His wisdom made the fly,
And then forgot to tell us why.”
~~Ogden Nash
“Middle age is so much more
Than wrinkles on our faces.
It’s when broad minds and narrow waists
Begin exchanging places.”
~~Charles Ghigna
Poems, Headaches, and Mjolnir
Now this is poetry…
This is one of my most favoritest poems ever. If you can’t tell, I prefer poetry that speaks about something solid. Especially funny poetry.
I’ve Got An Incredible Headache
by Jack Prelutsky
I’ve got an incredible headache,
my temples are throbbing with pain,
it feels like a freight train with two locomotives
is chugging about in my brain.
I’m sure I can’t stand it much longer,
my skull’s being squeezed in a vise,
as regiments march to the blaring of trumpets,
and thousands of tap-dancing mice.
My head’s filled with horrible noises,
there’s a man mashing melons inside,
someone keeps drumming on bongos and plumbing,
as porpoises thrash in the tide.
An elephant herd is stampeding,
a volcano is blowing its top,
and if I keep hitting my head with this hammer,
I doubt that my headache will stop.
So often in life we do this. Not literally. But a…
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Dawn V. Cahill - Hot Topic Christian Fiction 