A presidential election is looming in my country. We have one every four years.
Maybe I’d get more attention by demonizing or deifying a candidate.
Or saying that nobody should vote, because “they” put subliminal messages in ballots. Oddly enough, I haven’t heard that claim.
Or I could express deep despair over the demonizing, deifying and drivel that dominates news and social media.
I could do any or all of the above. But my heart wouldn’t be in it.
I am quite sure that no candidate is a fascist, the Antichrist or a pawn of the Illuminati-pixie cabal. I don’t even think the Illuminati-pixie cabal exists.
And, although I’d prefer election campaigns with less sound and fury, that’s not how my country works. Emotional appeals and wild claims are an old American tradition.
Looking Back on Brawls of Yesteryear
Take the 1912 election, for example. Some folks still don’t agree about Roosevelt, Taft and anti-trust policies.
Then there were the 1896 election’s campaign issues.
The Panic of 1893 was still in progress. It was an economic depression, a bad one.
I suspect it felt even worse, since America’s economy had been growing during the 1870s and 80s.
(Over-) investment in an Argentine bank, a failed coup and a crop failure spooked European investors, who started pulling gold out of the U.S. Treasury.
Then the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad failed. Americans started pulling their money out of banks and academics are still discussing why the house of cards collapsed.
In 1896, some folks thought America should switch from a gold standard to a silver standard. Or maybe bimetallism, linking a monetary unit’s value to two metals.
And all that’s an over-simplified version.
Small wonder that some politicos boiled the issues down to America being nailed to a “cross of gold.” And reminding voters to be angry at the usual suspects.
That sort of thing’s much easier to remember, come election day.
The 1876 elections were no picnic, either. In some ways, they were even more — contentious? polarizing? — than the 1896 or 2020 fracases.
The 1796 election was the first time we had political parties pushing candidates: not today’s parties. The 1804 Burr-Hamilton duel threatened a cherished tradition,1 and that’s another topic. Topics.
Love of Country: Within Reason
My life might be easier, if I stayed offline and busied myself in reading Nero Wolf novels and playing solitaire.
But that’s not an option. Not if I take being a Catholic seriously. Patriotism comes with the territory. I’d better explain that.
The Merriam-Webster dictionary says a patriot is someone “who loves and supports his or her country.”2
As a Catholic, I should act as if loving God and my neighbors matters. And see everyone as my neighbor. (Matthew 5:43–44, 7:12, 22:36–40, Mark 12:28–31; 10:25–27, 29–37; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1789)
Being Catholic also means I’m obliged to do what’s possible in public life: which includes recognizing humanity’s solidarity and respecting authority. Within reason. (Catechism, 1778, 1915, 1897-1917, 1939-1942, 2199, 2238-2243)
And loving my country. Again, within reason. Letting love of country slop over into worship of country is a bad idea. A very bad idea. (Catechism, 2112-2114, 2199, 2239)
Happily, loving my country doesn’t take much effort.
I like being an American, on the whole. My ‘could take it or leave it, and would rather leave it’ attitude toward my country’s politics notwithstanding, I don’t even mind voting. I think it’s a pretty good way of getting citizen feedback.
But I don’t think our system is the only ‘correct’ form of government. Different cultures and eras have different needs, and that’s okay. Provided that the system follows natural law: ethical principles that apply to every time and place. (Catechism, 1915, 1957-1958)
Thinking, Voting and a Hypothetical Situation
Recapping: as a Catholic, I should be a good citizen, contributing to the good of society and taking part in public life. (Catechism, 1915, 2239)
In America, that includes thinking about issues and candidates, voting for whoever and whatever is best; or likely to do the least damage, as the case may be.
Clarifying “do the least damage” — I don’t mean “choosing the lesser of two evils.”
A few things are just plain wrong, no matter what the circumstances. Murder, killing an innocent person, is one of them. (Catechism, 1750-1756, 1786-1789, 2258-2283)
Let’s take a hypothetical situation —
Someone running for Minnesota governor supports my state’s farmers, resort owners and middle-to-lower-income taxpayers. For me, that might be an almost ideal candidate.
Just one problem. This nearly-perfect wannabe governor also promised to euthanize Minnesotans who are too old or sick to enjoy my state’s resorts.
Nobody’s going to run on a platform like that. Not blatantly, at any rate. Like I said: a hypothetical situation.
I think Minnesota’s tourism and agriculture industries are important. I also figure that non-upper-crust folks matter as much as those in the social register.
But I’m getting to be too old for water skiing, and have several health problems. And I prefer to keep breathing. Even if I was young and in perfect health, euthanasia would be the opposite of a good idea. Whether I was the euthanee or the euthanor.
It’d be a bad idea, even if I had an emotionally-compelling reason. (November 24, 2019)
Knowing how I should think about voting helps. But it doesn’t make the process easy.
I’ve voted in every election since I’ve been old enough, and have yet to see an ideal candidate. I have, however, had many opportunities to practice patience and detachment.
And that’s yet another topic.
Resources — or — Not Emulating the Burr-Hamilton Duel
I’ve updated my list of election resources.
They don’t tell me who to vote for, but do show me what’s important and what’s not in deciding how I vote.
This year I’m adding “Civil Dialog.” It includes a seven-point list of “… possible ground rules for civil dialogue:”
Make sure everyone has an opportunity to speak.
Share your personal experience, not someone else’s.
Listen carefully and respectfully. Speak carefully and respectfully. Do not play the role of know-it-all, convincer or corrector. Remember that a dialogue is not a debate.
Don’t interrupt unless for clarification or time keeping.
Accept that no group or viewpoint has a complete monopoly on the truth.
“Be more ready to give a favorable interpretation to another’s statement than [to] condemn it” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 2478, quoting St. Ignatius of Loyola).
Be cautious about assigning motives to another person.
And now, resources from the USCCB (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops):
I didn’t feel all that sick Friday evening. That was August 21, 2020: 45 days ago.
Online self-assessment guides from the Minnesota Department of Health and Mayo Clinic put me on the threshold of needing to call a doctor.
My wife said calling the local hospital was a good idea.
As it turns out, she was right.
I started writing about my hospital stay three days after I returned home. Several days and a few hundred words later, I realized that I’d been really sick. And was still recovering. Make that am still recovering.
I was in CentraCare Sauk Centre’s queue for some time before giving my wife our phone.
Long story short, she drove me to the hospital’s emergency room around 10:30 pm Minnesota time. My temperature was close to 105 Fahrenheit.
That was Friday, August 21, 2020.
Within 24 hours, I got good news. I didn’t have COVID-19.
Staph, Strep and Cellulitis
I did, however, have a staph and a strep infection. Which helped explain why an ulcer on my left calf had been hurting so much. And not healing.
That, I gather, is why “cellulitis” showed up in my diagnosis.
Cellulitis is what medicos call a bacterial infection in the skin’s inner layers.
Given time, it’ll work its way down to the bone, into lymph nodes and the bloodstream, and can be fatal. What I had didn’t get that far, happily.
Having Staphylococcus aureus on my skin is par for the course. The bacteria are often a part of the micro-menagerie living on us. Streptococcus dysgalactiae isn’t as well-represented in our skin flora, but obviously I’d acquired enough to start an infection.
Tests at the hospital weren’t all bad news.
An ultrasound Doppler scan showed that I didn’t have deep vein thrombosis. That’s a fancy way of saying there wasn’t a clot blocking normal blood flow in my leg.
In 20-20 hindsight, setting up an earlier appointment at the local wound clinic would have been a good idea. On the ‘up’ side, I was discharged before I was scheduled to see them — and now have more information for those folks.
If I didn’t have diabetes and wasn’t overweight, my immune system might have kept these bacteria from spreading under my skin.1
That’s another incentive for me to keep trying to lose weight.
Conspicuous by Their Absence
I was living in room 20 of CentraCare’s Sauk Centre hospital from early morning of August 22 until around noon, September 2.
It’s a nice place, 15 feet on a side, give or take a bit, with a handicap-accessible bathroom in one corner.
Maybe halfway through my stay, I was transferred to a swing bed.
But I was still in room 20. What changed was the room’s designation. Calling my place a swing bed let the hospital keep treating me while easing back on how often they checked my vitals.2
Spending more than eleven days in one room, apart from chaperoned strolls in the hall, wasn’t how I’d planned to spend late August and early September. It did, however, give me time to read books my family sent in.
On the ‘down’ side, I didn’t see anyone apart from folks working at the hospital.
With a pandemic in progress, they’re being careful. One family member could have been designated as a visitor, passed health checks, and seen me. But my family is being careful, too: so we dropped books off at the front desk. In a plastic bag.
COVID-19 pandemic precautions probably explains the absence of a priest, deacon or Eucharistic minister in room 20.
I’ll get back to that, and why I didn’t go ballistic over the lack of a crucifix on the wall.
A Century of Antibiotics
A hundred years ago, someone with my health issues and a skin ulcer might have survived. But probably not without having at least part of my leg amputated.
And maybe not even then.
Germ theory of disease was catching on, thanks partly to lessons learned during the Second Boer War and the 1914-1918 war.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that antibiotics were still in the R & D stage, and mainly aimed at treating syphilis.
Getting killed by a bullet, explosion or gas was an option for World War I soldiers. But they were more likely to die from infections.
I really don’t miss the ‘good old days,’ and that’s another topic.
Alexander Fleming first noticed penicillin in 1928. Or maybe it was Sir John Scott Burdon-Sanderson in the 1870s. Or Joseph Lister, around the same time. Or an ancient Egyptian physician. Or someone else.
Penicillin applied topically cleared up gonococcal ophthalmia for two infants in 1930. Probably. Another two babies may or may not have had similar treatments. The medical records aren’t complete, and I’m drifting off-topic.3
Mice and a Man
Fast-forward to 1939.
Researchers at Oxford dusted off Fleming’s research. One of them, Norman Heatley, developed an automated process for extracting and purifying penicillin.
“…The automated process he came up with made use of bedpans, milk churns and baths all rigged together, yet it worked very well….”
(“Penicillin: the Oxford story,” J. Wood, Oxford Science blog (July 16, 2010))
By May of 1940, World War II had started and Heatley’s contraption had produced enough penicillin for testing. Eight mice were given lethal doses of streptococci bacteria. Four got penicillin injections. Those mice lived.
The Oxford folks kept Heatley’s penicillin extractor running. By February, 1941, they had enough to try with humans. Almost enough.
Albert Alexander, a British policeman, had scratched his face on a rose thorn. Or maybe he got hurt in a bombing raid. Either way, the wound got infected and the infection spread.
A doctor at Radcliffe Infirmary treated Mr. Alexander with a penicillin injection on February 12, 1941. Within 24 hours, he was on the mend.
Four days after the first injection, Radcliffe Infirmary’s supplies ran out. Mr. Alexander’s infection got worse in early March. He died a month later.
Meanwhile, World War II was hurting and killing folks in wholesale lots.
That’s why the USDA’s Northern Regional Research Laboratory (NRRL) in Peoria, Illinois, began a search for high-yield penicillin molds. Their quest led to a cantaloupe in a local farmer’s market. Or so the story goes.4
More Than You Need, Or Maybe Want, to Know About Penicillin
(From St. Louis Post-Dispatch and Missouri Historical Society, used w/o permission.)
(St. Louis Post-Dispatch Sunday edition. (June 27, 1943))
Penicillin was a “wonder drug” in 1943.
What we’d call clinical testing told doctors that the previously-overlooked fungal byproduct cured ‘incurable’ infections.
Meanwhile, folks at NRRL were learning how to mass-produce the stuff. That, in turn, saved a great many lives.
“…One soldier being treated at Bushnell’s Veteran Hospital in Utah lay sick in a hospital bed for 14 months with wounds containing bits of uniform, missile fragments, and shattered bone.
“Doctors didn’t risk operating on the gangrenous wound. Once the soldier began receiving penicillin injections, he began to improve almost immediately….”
(“How the ‘wonder drug’ penicillin went from discovery to mass production, and the role St. Louis had in it,” From the Post-Dispatch archives (March 13, 2020))
I think preventing death is a good idea. So is dealing with diseases and infections. Using penicillin and other antibiotics imprudently is another matter.
Antibiotics affect bacteria, not viruses. Using them to treat viral diseases does no good.
Usually.
Sometimes an antibiotic keeps a bacterial infection from taking hold when someone’s already sick from a virus.
And there are antibiotic-resistant bacteria.
They showed up right after we started using antibiotics. That’s not surprising. Bacteria develop immunity to toxins: fast.
Doctors who over-prescribe antibiotics haven’t helped. Neither have folks who stop taking antibiotics when they’re feeling better. Someone can feel fine and still be hosting bacteria. And they’re the resistant ones. The bacteria, that is. Not the people.
Like pretty much anything else involving medicine, it’s complicated.
The antibiotic I got is amoxik clav 875. I figure that’s amoxicillin and clavulanic acid. Amoxicillin is two steps removed from penicillin, chemically. It’s been around since 1972. Clavulanic acid makes the antibiotic more effective.5
Pandemic Precautions, Piety — and Prudence
(From Google Maps, used w/o permission.)
Spiritual Care Services, CentraCare
“Our staff consists of Catholic priests, Protestant pastors, Catholic sisters, and lay chaplains who visit patients….”
CentraCare’s records include my religious beliefs. They know I’m a Catholic.
So how come I didn’t see a single priest, deacon or Eucharistic minister while I was there?
And why aren’t I ranting at this lack of service?
First, that “Spiritual Care Services” excerpt discusses what’s at CentraCare’s St. Cloud hospital. I was in CentraCare’s Sauk Centre facility, about an hour up the road from St. Cloud.
Second, the COVID-19 pandemic is in progress. I figure that the folks running CentraCare know this, and are taking reasonable precautions.
Besides, I’m a Catholic. I take my faith seriously. That means, among other things, that life isn’t all about me.
I’ve talked about this before.
“The “Source and Summit of the Christian Life”
I’m a Christian, a Catholic.
I depend on Jesus for salvation. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 456-460, 519-521)
That’s why I think Mass is a big deal.
Each time I’m at Mass and hear ‘this is my body … this is my blood,’ I’m with our Lord at that Passover meal, and Golgotha, and beyond.
Mass is the Holy Sacrifice “…because it makes present the one sacrifice of Christ the Savior and includes the Church’s offering….” (Catechism, 1322-1405, especially 1330)
My senses tell me that the unleavened bread and wine are still bread and wine. But Jesus is really there, in the Eucharist: physically present. (Catechism, 1324-1327, 1378)
“The Eucharist is ‘the source and summit of the Christian life.’…”
“The Sunday celebration of the Lord’s Day and his Eucharist is at the heart of the Church’s life. ‘Sunday is the day on which the paschal mystery is celebrated in light of the apostolic tradition and is to be observed as the foremost holy day of obligation in the universal Church.’…”
(Catechism, 1324, 2177)
I’m obliged to take care of my health, within reason. (Catechism, 2288-2289)
And I’m supposed to work for the common good. Which includes, but isn’t limited to, acting as if I value the life and health of my neighbors. (Catechism, One/Two/Article 2 Participation in Social Life/II: The Common Good, 2258–2317)
The COVID-19 pandemic and my circumstances give me limited options.
Folks with abilities and training I lack are developing vaccines. They’ll be wanting healthy volunteers for testing.6 That excludes me. I wouldn’t be overly-eager to volunteer in any case, and that’s almost another topic. (October 7, 2016)
I don’t have a problem with science, medicine, or testing new treatments.
Healing the sick and keeping folks healthy are good ideas. Provided that we respect each other. And don’t take crazy risks. (Catechism, 2292-2296)
Uncertainty
We didn’t know about COVID-19 before December of 2019.
Within a month, scientists found the SARS-CoV-2 coronavirus and started learning how it spreads from human to human. That’s part of the good news.
Part of the bad news is that SARS-CoV-2 is something new. It almost certainly didn’t exist in its present form before 2019.
Nobody was immune when the pandemic started. Probably.
Folks who’ve had COVID-19 and recovered also developed immunity to the disease. But we don’t know how long they’ll stay immune. I’ll call that good news: not great, but good.
Another bit of good news is that we know how the SARS-CoV-2 virus spreads.
That’s why outfits like the CDC say we should wear face masks, avoid big crowds and wash our hands.
More accurately, we’re learning how this virus spreads.
We know that SARS-CoV-2 viruses can ride tiny droplets through the air. We’re not sure how far they can travel or how long they’ll last after landing on surfaces.
We also know that the viruses get into an infected person’s saliva and mucus. That makes touching someone who has COVID-19 risky. My guess is that we’ll see an uptick in obsessive hand-washing. Maybe it’s already happened.
The CDC has been telling us to keep six feet apart.
The Australian Government Department of Health says to “stay 1.5 metres apart.”
European authorities apparently figure two meters is the minimum safe distance.
And the British Medical Journal says two meters isn’t enough.7
All this uncertainty helped inspire pandemic-related conspiracy theories. likely enough. (March 31, 2020)
Weirdness and Worship
(From St. Louis Post Dispatch, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
The COVID-19 pandemic isn’t just like the Spanish Flu. Which started in Kansas — or maybe somewhere else — and killed upwards of 17,000,000 people. And folks didn’t respond to it exactly the same way in 1918 as we are responding to COVID-19 in 2020.
On the other hand, today’s responses aren’t all that different.
I see no evidence that human nature has changed in the last century. Or the last millennium. Or since long before cuneiform was the latest thing in information technology.
Times change, human nature doesn’t, so we’ve got new and improved bogeymen.
Along with some tried and true phobias.
Back in 1918, at least one American newspaper said that the Spanish flu was from Germany.
Some folks figured it was in Bayer aspirin. Others blamed German agents at some east coast harbor. 1918 wasn’t a good time to have German ancestors and be living in America.
The last I checked, we still don’t know exactly how the COVID-19 pandemic started.
We’re a bit more certain about where it started spreading. That’s focused pandemic-related xenophobia on folks who look like they’re from east or southeast Asia.8
Ideally, nobody would blame their problems on strangers. Civic leaders would realize that churches aren’t a greater threat to public health than tattoo parlors. And priests wouldn’t use homilies to spread conspiracy theories.
We don’t live in an ideal world.
San Francisco’s Rules
(From Dennis Callahan / Archdiocese of San Francisco, via National Catholic Register, used w/o permission.)
(Following the rules in San Francisco. (August 22, 2020))
“…The DOJ on Sept. 25 sent a letter to Mayor London Breed, warning that the city’s rule allowing only ‘one worshipper’ in places of worship at a time regardless of their size — while allowing multiple patrons in other indoor establishments — is ‘draconian’ and ‘contrary to the Constitution and the nation’s best tradition of religious freedom.’
“San Francisco’s restrictions on public worship remain among the strictest in the country. Until Sept. 14, public worship in the city was restricted to 12 participants outdoors, with indoor services prohibited.
“As of Sept. 14, houses of worship are allowed to have 50 people at religious services outdoors, with indoor services still prohibited until at least Oct. 1….”
San Francisco’s ‘maximum occupancy not to exceed 1 persons’ rule for places of worship strikes me as unreasonably cautious.
It Could have been Worse
The city’s government could have required residents to register their religious affiliation, if any — and mandated rehabilitation for those with unhealthy beliefs.
I don’t know how classifying religion as a public health issue would fit into San Francisco’s reputation for tolerance.
I also don’t know how self-styled American patriots of my youth squared their unyielding allegiance to freedom with their equally-unyielding insistence everyone agree with them.
Maybe noticing the difference between “free” and “free to agree with me” is easier for folks who aren’t solidly in control. Or maybe trying to quash dissent starts looking good when folks are losing control.
We’re still uncomfortably close to the days when mental and social hygiene enthusiasts were trying to purify America.
(From Google Maps, used w/o permission.)
(Cathedral of St. Mary of the Assumption, seen from San Francisco’s Geary Boulevard.)
“…San Francisco’s revised health order from Sept. 14 states that ‘[o]nly one individual member of the public may enter the house of worship at a time,’ with no reason given.
“The DOJ letter called on the mayor to treat places of worship equally with other venues where people share enclosed spaces, such as gyms, tattoo parlors, hair salons, massage studios, and daycares.
“At those establishments, San Francisco city authorities already allow capacities of between 10 and 50 percent, depending on the type and provided that sanitary measures and 6-foot distancing is followed….”
(Catholic News Agency/National Catholic Register (September 28, 2020) [emphasis mine])
Putting the ‘one worshiper at a time’ rule into perspective, San Francisco’s Cathedral of St. Mary of the Assumption seats 2,400.9 Someone standing in the sanctuary’s center would be more than a hundred feet from the nearest wall.
That’s well over the European two-meter social distancing guideline.
Maybe allowing 1,200 Catholics inside at a time would be too much. But limiting occupancy to one seems excessive.
Happily, San Francisco now puts worshipers on a par with restaurant patrons. In terms of seating, at any rate.
“…Fr. Altier preached September 6 a homily at St. Raphael Parish in Crystal, Minnesota, saying the COVID-19 coronavirus is a ‘man-made virus, whose work had begun at a lab in North Carolina, then they shipped it to China to finish the work, then it was released so that people would get sick.’
“‘All this is being done on purpose.’…
“…Fr. Altier was ordained a priest in 1989 and has served in various capacities in the Minneapolis archdiocese. A 2018 homily from the priest also went viral online, in which Fr. Altier said in his view the Theodore McCarrick crisis and similar incidents in the Church had been caused by the systemic infiltration of the priesthood by predatory ‘homsexual networks’ [sic] and by communist agents intent on harming the Church….”
I’ve talked about “the Theodore McCarrick crisis,” what makes sense, what doesn’t — and why obedience shouldn’t be blind. (February 17, 2019)
I have no idea why Fr. Altier said that COVID-19 is part of a joint North Carolina/China plot. Or how he got the idea.
New Lyrics, Old Song
His ‘communist agents’ claim strikes me as oddly anachronistic.
From my viewpoint, anyway. I remember McCarthyism’s fading echoes.
But it fits his aversion to vaccines. And his perception that the COVID-19 pandemic is a conspiracy. Fr. Altier apparently …
“…said that only 9,200 people have died of the coronavirus pandemic, which is recorded to have killed more than 200,000 in the U.S., and that the virus was launched in order for unnamed figures to create propaganda networks and disinformation campaigns.
“He said the goal of those campaigns is to achieve social control, by inducing people, out of fear, to receive a vaccine that is ‘designed to change the RNA in your body.’
“Fr. Altier said he had told his elderly parents, ‘do not, under any circumstances allow them to put one of these vaccines in your body. The only way that I would allow it to happen to me is if they arrest me and hold me down and force it on me. There is no way.’
“‘It’s time we start to recognize that we are being lied to…. This is all engineered. This is all an agenda. And it’s pointing in a certain direction. So far, like the good sheeple that we are, we’ve all put on our masks and we’re all staying six feet apart, but there comes a part where we have to draw the line.’…”
(Catholic News Agency / National Catholic Register (September 23, 2020))
Vaccine aversion, agenda alarm and sheeple label notwithstanding, I’ll continue acting as if the COVID-19 pandemic is real. (June 12, 2020)
I’ll also continue acting as if ethics matter.
Sound, Fury and Making Sense
Finding ardently-held opinions isn’t hard.
Some, like ‘politicians control us with COVID-19 fear’ and ‘anti-vaxxers threaten our future,’ contain a grain of truth. Along with truckloads of sound and fury.
I try to make sense. Which doesn’t make me a good sheeple or anti-vaxxer.
Again, from my viewpoint. I’ve been called a sheeple. Which I am, for folks like Fr. Altier, since I wear a face mask in public. (May 23, 2020)
Getting vaccinated against diseases strikes me as a good idea. Besides helping me, being inoculated keeps me from infecting others: which is supporting the common good. In a small way.
Make that vaccinated against diseases that are a reasonable threat. Wanting every vaccination and inoculation in our pharmacopoeia doesn’t make sense. Not to me.
Vaccinations are generally safe, but not 100% safe. Accepting an unlikely and minor risk to avoid a likely and major risk makes sense. Taking an unlikely risk to avoid a non-existent threat doesn’t.
For example, I’ve yet to hear of a case of Rift Valley fever in my area.10 Getting inoculated against Rift Valley fever wouldn’t make sense for me.
Flu season is coming, so I’ve had my flu shot.
COVID-19 has been infecting and occasionally killing folks here in central Minnesota, so I’d probably have had a COVID shot, too. If a vaccine was available.
Vaccines can be ethically dubious, for reasons that don’t involve communist agents.11 And don’t lend themselves to snappy slogans.
Fear Appeal: Communist Agents, Tiny Cows and More
(From James Gillray, H. Humphrey, Anti-Vaccine Society; via Wikimedia Commons; used w/o permission.)
On the whole, I’d prefer living in a world where folks didn’t try striking fear into their followers by invoking communist agents rewriting the faithful’s RNA, or an inoculation producing tiny cows.
Whether and how well fear appeal marketing works is debatable, and debated. What’s more certain is that it’s been used to tout everything from deodorant and insurance to antifreeze and plastic surgery.12 And, extending the definition of “advertising” a bit, salvation.
Perceptions
I’m most familiar with American Christianity’s version of an angry god. (April 6, 2019)
But variations on an irritable Zeus aren’t uniquely American or Christian.
“for a man to infect a family in the morning with smallpox and to pray to God in the evening against the disease is blasphemy; that the smallpox is a judgment of God on the sins of people, and that to avert it is but to provoke him more; that inoculation is an encroachment on the prerogatives of Jehovah, whose right it is to wound and smite.”
(Contemporary reaction to inoculation experiments by American physician Dr. Zabdiel Boylston (ca. 1720) via Psychological Sciences, Vanderbilt University)
“…’…If the gods are angry, we will land into more severe problems than coronavirus. I have a serious objection against the Nepali government’s control of religions, which bounds on the sinful as far as I am concerned.'”
(Kapil Bajracharya, an elder gurjus in Bungamati, regarding the Rato Machindranath Jatra (2020) via BBC News)
I could see cross-cultural instances of “the gods are angry” as evidence that religious leaders use fear to control their gullible followers.
Which may be true, sometimes.
I think it’s at least as likely that preachers, priests and others who warn against communist agents and divine anger are sincere. Misinformed, but sincere.
Having a distorted image of God doesn’t help. And isn’t limited to Christians. We’re all dealing with consequences of a really bad decision. (Catechism, 397-401)
I also figure we’re not all that different from folks in Nepal.13 Some of us see communist agents and divine anger.
Obligations and Prudence
Others see prudence in using our brains.
“…’We are yet to discuss with the government regarding the goddess’s presence at Taleju temple … I think there will be no crowds this time like in the past. But we cannot take risks by taking her there.’
“‘Some people fear that bad things may happen if we don’t worship properly,’ he adds. ‘But in my view, we should be realistic. We can organise festivals and rituals and preserve our culture for the future generation only if we survive.’…”
(Kapil Bajracharya, 11th generation Kumari caretaker (2020) via BBC News)
“In ordinary circumstances, Catholics are obliged to participate in Mass on Sundays and other holy days of obligation. This obligation is suspended in cases of moral or physical impossibility, and may also be dispensed for a just cause when it is for the spiritual good of the faithful. In addition, the Church also has the obligation to protect those who are most vulnerable and those who care for the sick.
“Due to the increasing number of confirmed COVID-19/coronavirus cases in the Archdiocese of Saint Paul and Minneapolis, I determine it prudent to dispense all Catholics in the territory of this Archdiocese from the obligation to attend Sunday Mass, until further notice….”
(Statement Regarding Dispensation from Sunday Mass Obligation, Archbishop Bernard A. Hebda (March 12, 2020))
Complimenting an archbishop and a Kumari caretaker? Maybe I’d better explain.
I’m a Christian. I became a Catholic when I learned who holds the authority Jesus gave Peter. (September 22, 2018 )
As a Catholic I think that Jesus is “the way, the truth and the life.” I’m also obliged to respect folks who seek truth, goodness and God. Including those who don’t know Jesus and Our Lord’s Church. (Catechism, 150-152, 839-848, 2614)
Crucifixes and the Eucharist
Catholics, and some other Christians, have crucifixes on walls and altars.
We carry them in processions and wear them around our necks.
Crucifixes and crosses have been controversial for at least five centuries. Partly because some turbocharged zealots see them as idols.14
I’m a Catholic, so idolatry isn’t an option. Putting a figurine, money, fame, family or anything else where God belongs is a bad idea and I shouldn’t do it. (Catechism, 2112-2114)
But I don’t have a problem with “truth, beauty and sacred art.” All of which can help me stay focused on “the transcendent mystery of God” (Catechism, 2500-2503)
Which gets me back to room 20’s crucifix-free walls and absent Eucharistic ministers.
The Eucharist is the Christian life’s high point. It’s a big deal.
And, as Archbishop Hebda said, our Mass obligations take reality into account.
Sometimes getting to mass is impossible. Sometimes it’s not a good idea.
Risking the health and lives of others during a pandemic, or any other time, is not a good idea.
I can see adding Eucharistic ministers to the folks already passing through CentraCare’s Sauk Centre hospital as a dubiously-necessary risk.
Breaks in Routine
This isn’t the first time the Church has experienced breaks in routine. We have procedures for dealing with ‘new normals,’ drawing on millennia of experience.
I’d have preferred seeing a crucifix on room 20’s wall. Visible, physical things like that can make prayer and meditation easier.
But I don’t need to see a crucifix to remember that I’m a Christian and a Catholic, any more than I need a knotted cord to pray.
And nothing I see, or miss seeing, is going to keep me away from God’s love.
“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers,
“nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
(Romans 8:38–39)
More, mostly about life and faith during this pandemic:
The situation could be worse. I’m home, and don’t feel all that sick.
On the other hand, averaging the Minnesota Department of Health and Mayo Clinic Self-Assessment services, I’m either just below needing to check with a doctor. Or just above the ‘get medical advice’ threshold.
“Beirut port resumes partial operations a week after explosion”
Al Jazeera (August 12, 2020)
“…According to Lebanon’s caretaker economy minister, the port is now operating to unload vessels for merchants.
“‘There are 12 cranes out of 16 operating at Beirut port,’ Raoul Nehme said in a Twitter post on Wednesday….”
Last Tuesday, August 4, 2020, something exploded in Beirut. It was around 6:00 p.m., Beirut time, 15:00 UTC.
By Wednesday afternoon, I’d read that the blast killed at least 100 folks and hurt some 4,000. Upwards of 100 people were missing. My guess was that the body count would increase.
I was right about that, sadly. By Monday, August 10, the acknowledged death toll had passed 200.
I don’t know how likely it is that search and rescue teams will find more survivors.
Some of the good news is that there were search and rescue teams. And that many folks in Beirut “…rushed to the blast location … to offer support and assistance….”
“…President Aoun declared three days of mourning which started on Wednesday. Opening an emergency cabinet meeting, he said: ‘No words can describe the horror that has hit Beirut last night, turning it into a disaster-stricken city’.
“‘Amid last night’s smoke, flames and destruction, I would like to laud the zeal of the Lebanese who rushed to the blast location and perimeter and the hospitals to offer support and assistance,’ he added….”
“Video circulating on social media shows a massive explosion rocking central Beirut – shattering windows, knocking down doors and shaking buildings several hundred feet away. Lebanon’s health minister told journalists a ship carrying fireworks had blown up in the port, though the size of the blast heard across the country raised suspicions it might have resulted from a rocket strike or detonation of explosives – deliberate or otherwise. The source of the blast has not been confirmed….”
Minnesota is eight hours behind Beirut, so I started noticing headlines about a big Beirut explosion Tuesday afternoon.
An early set said that it happened in a fireworks warehouse or factory.
Given Lebanon’s lively political debates, I wondered if maybe the explosion was deliberate.
Some reports played up the “mushroom cloud” angle.
Wondering if maybe the explosion was deliberate wasn’t unreasonable, though.
Back in 2005, Lebanon’s former Prime Minister Rafic Al Hariri died when a truck exploded. The incident was obviously not an accident.
A UN-backed tribunal fingered four Hezbollah members. They’ve been tried in absentia, with a verdict due this week.
Maybe they were involved. Maybe Iran’s rulers sponsored the attack. Maybe someone else arranged for Al Hariri’s demise. Syria’s a front-runner in that scenario.
Whatever the tribunal says, someone’s going to be upset.
“Fifteen years after a truck bomb killed Lebanon’s former Sunni leader Rafik al-Hariri in Beirut, triggering regional upheaval, a U.N.-backed court trying four suspects from Shi’ite Hezbollah delivers a verdict on Friday that could shake the country again….”
“The explosion that tore through the Lebanese capital on 4 August claimed the lives of at least 80 people, injuring thousands, destroying numerous buildings, and practically leveling the city’s port….”
“Terrifying footage has emerged, showing a huge mushroom cloud of fire and smoke covering much of Beirut’s port area, blowing out windows and destroying nearby buildings, as a warehouse in the Lebanese capital’s docks explodes….”
“• According to the health minister of Lebanon Hamad Hassan, hundreds are wounded in the explosions
“• The port zone was immediately cordoned off by the security forces and the access is only allowed to fire trucks, ambulances and relatives of people inside the site of explosion
“• The reason behind these explosions remain unclear as of now….”
I don’t know why reporters and editors told us that fireworks caused the blast.
My guess is that we’re looking at what happens in a telephone game. Player one whispers something to player two, who relays it to player three, and so on. In this case, maybe player one said something akin to what BBC News reported the next day:
“…There was reportedly an initial explosion in the port area around about 18:00 (15:00 GMT) followed by a fire and small blasts that some witnesses said sounded like fireworks going off….”
Confirmation and Conspiracy Theories
The folks at BBC News can make mistakes, and have done so.
But I’ve seen evidence that they often do a little fact-checking and confirmation before releasing their articles.
That’s also, I figure, why BBC News is almost always a few hours to a day or so behind news media’s sprinters. And that’s another topic.
I gather that the current consensus says ammonium nitrate interacting with a fire caused the the big explosion.
That seems likely enough. But we’re getting conspiracy theories offering alternative explanations. I’ll get back to that.
Maybe someone will do free association: linking the letters in Beirut’s name, August 4, America’s presidential election and selections from Revelation — and enjoy fleeting fame as a wannabe prophet.
Or maybe not. I hope not. Craziness is not something we need more of. My opinion.
“Information minister says army will oversee house arrest of those responsible for storage and guarding at Beirut port.
“Lebanon’s cabinet declared a two-week state of emergency in the capital city and handed control of security in the capital to the military following a massive explosion in Beirut that killed at least 135 people and injured 5,000 others….
“…11:30 GMT – After blast, Lebanon has less than a month’s grain reserves
“Lebanon’s main grain silo at Beirut port was destroyed in a blast, leaving the nation with less than a month’s reserves of the grain but still with enough flour to avoid a crisis, the economy minister said….”
Many Lebanese officials have been displaying refreshing levels of common sense and enlightened self-interest.
None of them, apparently, have officially declared that there was no explosion in Beirut. Or that it was the fault of the Jews. Or Americans. Or shape-shifting, space-alien lizard men.
Now that I think about it, maybe ‘Reptilians’ weirdness is limited mostly to the British Isles and former English colonies. And that’s yet another topic.
I’m not sure what to make of the house arrest of port officials. I hope that it’s not revenge disguised as law enforcement.
More likely, I suspect, Lebanon’s powers that be realize that something went catastrophically wrong: and don’t want those responsible to escape.
Or, perhaps just as likely, they want the port officials to live long enough to tell their side of the story.
How and why someone thought storing so much of Lebanon’s grain supply near roughly 2,750 tonnes (metric tons), 3,000 US tons, of ammonium nitrate was a good idea is — a good question.
Ammonium Nitrate
Ammonium nitrate was discovered, or synthesized, by Johann R. Glauber in 1659.
Which verb applies varies, depending on who you listen to.
I’ve read that there’s no such thing as naturally-occurring ammonium nitrate.
And that naturally-occurring ammonium nitrate is rare, found only in very dry places like the Atacama Desert.
I’ve also read that a mineral called gwihabaite contains ammonium nitrate. Maybe.
I could begin a quest, burrowing through obscure and esoteric sources, seeking lore relating to ammonium nitrate and its history.
That might be fun.
Probably would be. It’s the sort of thing I enjoy doing. But I won’t. Not now, anyway.
Oklahoma City Bombing
(From Shutterstock, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(Oklahoma City bombing, 1995: 168 killed, more than 680 injured.)
Most Americans lived in urban areas in 1995, and may not have heard of ammonium nitrate before the Oklahoma City bombing.
That may help explain why some American lawmakers tried to make manufacture, sale and possession of ammonium nitrate illegal.
Their efforts were newsworthy at the time, but now are well under the radar. India’s leadership seems to have been much more effective at protecting their citizens:
Or, arguably, throwing a spanner into India’s food producers’ efforts.
Here in America, happily, someone seems to have gotten the attention of enough politicos to stop their (I trust) well-intentioned efforts.
Among other things, ammonium nitrate is an effective fertilizer.
And, when handled by folks who know what they’re doing, safer than many substances we use. Like anhydrous ammonia or gasoline. Or water, which can be lethal if inhaled.
Ammonium nitrate isn’t an explosive by itself. Not in the form we’d use as fertilizer. Not if it’s fresh, or stored by someone who’s competent.
Mixed with fuel oil, aluminum powder or azides, it’s an explosive.1
As an explosive, it’s useful or harmful: depending on how someone decides to use it. And dangerous, particularly for folks who don’t pay attention.
“What We Have Here is Failure to Communicate”
(From National Archives Catalog, used w/o permission.)
(‘After’ photo of Repauno Works, Gibbstown, New Jersey. (1916))
Disastrous explosions involving ammonium nitrate go back at least to 1916. Du Pont’s Repauno Works in Gibbstown, New Jersey, had around 4,000 pounds of ammonium nitrate in a drying pan. The January, 1916, explosion killed one man, injured 12.
World War I was in progress, so folks assumed that America’s enemy’s set off the blast. Pretty much the same thing happened that year in Faversham, Kent and Oakdale, Pennsylvania.
Fast-forward to 1921. Germans were being punished for losing a war. And for being Germans. My opinion. Maybe crushing Germany seemed like a good idea at the time.
I think the chap who called what the Allies were doing the “Peace to end Peace” was right. (November 10, 2017)
At any rate, someone in or around Kriewald (German Silesia) let ammonium nitrate fertilizer aggregate in some wagons.
Instead of a manageable mass of crumbled ammonium nitrate, each wagon contained a single whacking great lump of the stuff.
Breaking up the lumps with explosives detonated the cargo, killing 19 folks.
Another 561 died, less than two months later, when pretty much the same thing happened in Germany’s Oppau plant. Twenty years later, folks working in Belgium used explosives to break up an aggregated pile of ammonium nitrate. Hundreds died.2
Several more-or-less-avoidable explosions later, the SS Grandcamp and High Flyer docked in Texas City. The cargo ships were loaded with, among other items, ammonium nitrate; which should have been used as fertilizer in Europe.
Maybe, if folks had passed along knowledge from previous disasters, and others had paid attention, the Grandcamp’s cargo wouldn’t have exploded.
Texas City, 1947
(From Moore Memorial Public Library, Texas City; used w/o permission.)
(What’s left of the Longhorn II cargo ship, after the Texas City Disaster.)
The “Peace to end Peace” became World War II in 1939. I see it more as the second phase of a conflict that boiled over in 1914. (December 24, 2018; November 10, 2017)
From one viewpoint, everybody lost. Some more than others.
But a remarkable number of us survived. Many, digging out from occasionally-radioactive rubble, decided that we’d had enough.
Even more remarkable, many surviving bosses cobbled together an alternative to the old empire-collapse-rebuild cycle. I don’t think the United Nations is perfect, and I’ve talked about that before. (April 15, 2018; November 3, 2017)
In 1947, Europeans were still rebuilding their cities and restoring farm land.
Oversimplifying the situation, they needed more of everything.
On the ‘up’ side, America wasn’t in nearly as bad shape, and had materials to trade.
Ammonium nitrate made and packaged in Iowa and Nebraska had been shipped to the Port of Texas City, a deepwater port on Galveston Bay.
It was being loaded onto the Grandchamp and High Flyer in mid-April, 1947.
The 2,300 tons, 2,086.5 metric tons, of fertilizer being loaded onto the Grandchamp was in 100-pound paper sacks. Surviving longshoremen said the bags felt warm. They also said they figured the fertilizer was like cement, in terms of safety issues.3
Besides, the Port of Texas City had already handled some 75,000 tons of the stuff. What could possibly go wrong?
Smoke, Fire and Exploding Fertilizer
Longshoremen opened the Grandchamp’s cargo hold on the morning of April 16, 1947. About 2,000 tons of ammonium nitrate were already on board.
They smelled smoke. Removing a few bags, they found a small fire.
Putting it out with jugs of drinking water and a small fire extinguisher didn’t work.
At that point, the folks in charge saw small-arms ammunition the Grandchamp had picked up in Belgium as the biggest threat.
Meanwhile, the captain ordered his ship’s cargo hatches closed and covered. Then he had the ship’s steam fire-smothering system activated.
“…He hoped this would put out the fire without damaging the cargo on the ship….”
(“Fire on the Grandcamp,” Moore Memorial Public Library, Texas City)
We’re not sure exactly what happened below decks. Tanks of fuel oil may have burst, leaking into the ammonium nitrate. What’s more certain is that temperatures in the hold reached 850 degrees Fahrenheit.
By that time, some 200 folks had arrived at Texas City docks to see the fire. And the Grandchamp’s ammonium nitrate cargo exploded.
Everyone on the ship, the firefighters and most of the bystanders died. Flaming bits and pieces of ship and cargo broke buildings, pipes and people, starting secondary explosions and fires.
A mushroom cloud rose some 2,000 feet over the site. Folks 150 miles away heard the blast.
One slip over from the Grandchamp, the explosion and (local) tidal wave broke the High Flyer’s moorings, lodging the ship against the Wilson B. Keene. The High Flyer’s ammonium nitrate cargo detonated 16 hours after the Grandchamp’s explosion.
At least 581 people were killed in the April 16-17 blasts and fires. Maybe more. The exact death toll is still debatable, and debated.4
Mushroom Clouds
(From Rocky Kolberg, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(Composite of photos taken 35 miles from Mount St. Helens on May 18, 1980.)
Let’s give credit to folks who saw a mushroom cloud and said a nuclear bomb had gone off in Beirut.
Above-ground nuclear explosions do produce mushroom clouds.
So do industrial accidents and volcanic eruptions that abruptly release massive quantities of energy.
One clue that the Beirut mushroom cloud was non-nuclear was the absence of a blinding flash, and lack of severely-burned survivors.5
History and a Current Crisis
(From Reuters, via BBC News; used w/o permission.)
(Port of Beirut, as the smoke was clearing.)
Beirut, 2020, isn’t Texas City in 1947. Or Gibbstown, New Jersey, in 1916.
But we’re still human.
We can make mistakes. We can run towards danger to help others. And we can blame others for our problems.
We generally don’t it all at once, though.
Ancient City, New(ish) Nation
(From BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(Beirut, Lebanon: as it was before the blast, with labels.)
Folks have called Lebanon home for quite a while.
One of its cities, Byblos, up the coast from Beirut, has been inhabited continuously for the last seven millennia. Apart, maybe, for a while after the Late Bronze Age collapse (LBAc).
Beirut is a comparative newcomer, with a history going back only five millennia. Unlike some cities, it’s kept it’s original (?) name, more or less: Be’rot. It’s a Canaanite and Phoenician word meaning “the wells.”
Be’rot apparently survived the LBAc: no small feat. Empires grew and faded. Centuries, millennia, passed.
Fakhr al-Din I was awarded, or seized, the Mount Lebanon Emirate: an autonomous region in the Ottoman Empire. That was about five centuries back.
Politics, wars and the Shihab dynasty came next, followed by the 1840 Lebanon conflict and Mount Lebanon Mutasarrifate. Like almost all history, it’s complicated.
The current nation dates back to 1943, 1946, or thereabouts. Their government is a unitary parliamentary democracy and a confessionalist constitutional republic.
The President and Prime Minister must be, respectively, a Maronite Christian and a Sunni Muslim. The Speaker of the Parliament must be Shi’a Muslim. The Deputy Prime Minister and the Deputy Speaker of Parliament must be Eastern Orthodox.
I gather that the system’s intent is to make sure no one group gets too much power.
Whether it achieves that goal, or encourages backroom deals with a comfortable lack of accountability — is a matter of debate. And protest.6
Beirut’s Fixer-Upper Harbor
(From Airbus DS, BBC News; used w/o permission.)
(‘Before’ and ‘after’ aerial photos of the Port of Beirut.)
“The Port of Beirut ‘is no more’ according to an official, after a huge explosion in Lebanon’s capital ripped through the port area….”
Even without pre-existing dissatisfaction with Lebanon’s politicos and the COVID-19 pandemic, Tuesday’s explosion would have been bad for Beirut.
However, I think saying that the Port of Beirut “is no more” isn’t accurate. Not quite.
The harbor is still there. Mostly. But I strongly suspect that it’ll require dredging before deep-water shipping can come in.
The explosion took a sizeable divot out of the bit that held grain silos. I haven’t read anything that discusses where the fill went, but figure much of it fell into the harbor. Hence the likely need for dredging.
On the other hand, the unnamed official had a point.
The breakwater and other (earthworks?) are more-or-less intact, but a real estate agent might call the Port of Beirut a ‘fixer-upper’ harbor.
Most of the buildings are obliterated or heavily damaged. Much of the port’s machinery is kaput, and many folks who worked there are dead or missing.
The Capsized Queen
Even so, the situation could have been worse.
There apparently were survivors on the Orient Queen cruise ship, docked across the water from the epicenter.
The ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures leave out a few intermediate steps.
Seems that the blast damaged the Orient Queen, which started taking on water and eventually capsized.
Surviving crew members had time to evacuate. And that the ship wasn’t filled to capacity with 370 passengers.
“Habib Battah, a journalist and founder of the news site beirutreport.com, described the incident as ‘a natural disaster’ because it caused widespread damage far beyond the explosion site.
“‘I have friends who live 10-15 minutes away who showed me their entire house was blown out. I am wondering how people are going to sleep tonight without windows,’ he said.
‘This country is not prepared for disasters,’ added Battah. ‘We always lived in the fear of a major catastrophe. A natural disaster, an earthquake … this country has no emergency readiness and no response. There are barely enough police to control highways which are extremely dangerous. In no place you will find the government trying to put regulations and safety for its citizens – so there are no highways patrols, no fire inspections of buildings.’…
“…‘Youssef, dad is in heaven’
“At Hotel-Dieu hospital, itself left damaged by the explosion, dozens of people trying to enter were told to go elsewhere.
“‘It’s a catastrophe, a catastrophe,’ a man said in disbelief.
“Inside the crowded lobby, a family got the news that their relative was dead. A young woman bent over in anguish, spread her arms open to an infant child and said ‘Youssef, dad is in heaven.’ An old man fell to his knees and smacked the ground, over and over….”
Disasters happen. Houses collapse. People die. We grieve our losses. That’s how life works.
When a disaster is preventable, folks often experience anger. Understandably, I think.
“Lebanon’s 9/11”
(From BBC News; used w/o permission.)
A day after the Beirut blast, BBC News asked three young adults about Lebanon, their lives and their future.
“…Her school is now completely destroyed, and her university damaged. She graduated just a week ago, but now wants to leave Lebanon.
“‘The revolution was our last hope to get back our country. Now after the explosion, I’ve convinced myself to leave.’…”
“… ‘We have already gone through a lot this year – coronavirus, unemployment, the protests in November 2019. It was all accumulating, and this felt like the last straw.’
“He says the government should be doing more to give people hope during this time.
“‘This is Lebanon’s 9/11. When 9/11 took place in the USA, people came together. The president came down to the rubble, to give hope to people. None of our political class has done that so far…..”
“… ‘Leaving Lebanon goes through my head, because not having stable security and economy is worrying,’ she says. ‘We worry about our families, about our careers, about our friends. We don’t have hope any more.’…”
I don’t know what the first interviewee meant by “the revolution.”
Maybe it’s the 1978 Hundred Days’ War. Or the 1982 Lebanon War, the Mountain War or the War of the Camps.
Or all of the above, the “Lebanese Civil War” in today’s terminology.
Or maybe it was the 2011 Intifada of Dignity and/or the 2012 Syrian Civil War spillover.
Or, perhaps more likely, the October Revolution: the name many Lebanese give to their 2019-2020 protests.8
Lebanese Abroad
A sample of three, taken 24 hours after a horrific shock, may not give a full picture of Lebanon’s present and future.
Probably doesn’t.
But I strongly suspect that many who’d rather stay in Lebanon are seriously considering moving somewhere with fewer explosions and more hope.
If they leave, they’ll join the millions of Lebanese who either fled Lebanon or were evicted.
Statistics on Lebanese expatriates are iffy. Or speculative, for folks who like big words. Low-end estimates say that someone who’s Lebanese is more likely to be outside Lebanon than still in the disaster area.9
Can’t say that I blame folks who got out while they could. But I also think it’s rough for the folks who didn’t want to leave. Or couldn’t.
On the whole, I’d rather live in a country folks are trying to break into — not out of. And that’s yet again another topic.
“Perceived Government Corruption and Incompetence”
“International donors have pledged a quarter of a billion euros in aid for Lebanon five days after the explosion which devastated a swathe of Beirut.
“But an online donor summit arranged by France called at the same time for reforms to be made.
“The blast at a warehouse holding over 2,000 tonnes of ammonium nitrate has focused local outrage on perceived government corruption and incompetence….”
Perception and reality don’t necessarily overlap.
However, an ex-premier’s and current president’s behavior strike me as regrettable. I’ll get to that in this post’s next section (“Contested Correspondence…“)
And a whole lot of Lebanese leaders are resigning. Including, at last count, seven Members of Parliament. (Al Jazeera (August 9, 2020))
Contested Correspondence, “The Judiciary Should be Swift…”
(From Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(Swift justice — or blame, at any rate. Headlines from 1913.)
“…18:14 GMT – Aid summit raises $300m to be given ‘directly’ to people…
“…15:46 GMT – Michel Moawad becomes latest MP to resign from parliament
“…11:37 GMT – Ex-Lebanon premier denies knowledge of Beirut shipment
“Former Lebanese premier Tammam Salam has denied receiving correspondence or information about the arrival of a hazardous chemical materials shipment in Beirut, which caused the deadly blast in the capital on Tuesday….
“…10:56 GMT – Lebanese president condemns calls for international probe into blast
“Lebanon’s President Michel Aoun said that demands for an international investigation into Tuesday’s deadly blast at the port of Beirut aimed at ‘wasting time’.
“‘The judiciary should be swift to confirm who is a criminal and who is innocent [with regards to the blast],’ said Aoun in a statement released by his office and shared over Twitter….”
Maybe Michel Aoun’s top priority is speedy justice. Which isn’t a bad thing, necessarily. Provided that the process is likely to deliver honest, ethical decisions.
Or maybe he has other reasons. I don’t, and can’t, know what’s happening inside his head.
His diffidence regarding an international investigation might be based on national pride, or concern over what outsiders might find. Again, I don’t know.
I do, however, know that I’m uneasy about what’s being said.
I hope I’m wrong, but I feel that who gets convicted of what may rely partly on who is best at finding and shredding documents. And dealing with witnesses.
“Endemic Corruption”
(From Getty Images, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(Cleanup at a mosque and a church in Beirut.)
Calling the Lebanese Prime Minister’s resignation of his government good news sounds odd, at least.
But I think, and hope, that it may reflect an effort to start what he called “real change.”
“…[Lebanon’s Prime Minister] Diab, in a televised speech, said the detonation of highly-explosive material warehoused at the port in the capital for the last seven years was ‘the result of endemic corruption’.
“‘Today we follow the will of the people in their demand to hold accountable those responsible for the disaster that has been in hiding for seven years, and their desire for real change,’ he said. ‘In the face of this reality … I am announcing today the resignation of this government.’…”
I’m not sure what to make of Diab’s saying that the explosive material was warehoused “at the port in the capital for the last seven years….”
I gather that the MV Rhosus arrived at the Port of Beirut on September 20, 2013. Maybe the Prime Minister was rounding up.
MV Rhosus? That’s the cargo ship that carried 2,750 tonnes of ammonium nitrate. And, apparently, was declared unseaworthy. The ammonium nitrate was offloaded into Warehouse 12, assorted legal stuff happened and the Rhosus sank in February 2018.
Seems that customs officials sent letters to judges, asking for a decision about the increasingly-unstable stuff in Warehouse 12. The judges apparently had better things to do, and Warehouse 12 exploded last Tuesday.10
Small wonder folks in Lebanon are upset.
“It’s Much Bigger”
(From NASA ARIA team/Earth Observatory of Singapore/ESA, used w/o permission.)
(Moderate-to-heavy damage in Beirut. (August 7, 2020))
So far, Beirut has survived the 20th century global war(s), the Ottoman and Roman empires and the Late Bronze Age collapse.
I think the city, and the people, will pull through the current mess. Not comfortably, not easily: and not without problems.
But folks living in those parts seem to have at least their fair share of resilience.
And it looks like they’ll need it. The city and the nation were already in trouble when that warehouse blew up.
On the ‘up’ side, there’s at least one convent near Beirut that’s gotten involved in helping folks with immediate needs.
“…A convent outside Beirut has opened its doors to people left homeless.
“One of its members, Sister Jocelyne, told the BBC: ‘We are open in our guesthouse, we are supporting people in order to help them… we are providing food, water [and] clothes.’
“‘In that way we could help them to admit what’s happening because it is beyond what you see in the photos – it’s much bigger.’…”
(BBC News (August 10, 2020)
On the ‘down’ side, there will almost certainly be con artists posing as charitable organizations. And that’s still another topic.
Happily, there are also charitable outfits with good track records. Some more high-profile than others. No pressure, but Catholic Relief Services (CRS) was in Lebanon before the blast; and could use help with the latest uptick in trouble there.
CRS is a Catholic charity. Like other Catholic charities, they’re notoriously indiscriminate about who they help.
“…As part of the universal mission of the Catholic Church, we work with local, national and international Catholic institutions and structures, as well as other organizations, to assist people on the basis of need, not creed, race or nationality….”
(CRS Mission Statement)
I see that as good news. Others, apparently, don’t. (September 20, 2016)
Charity, provided that it’s charitable, is a virtue. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1813, 1822-1829)
I figure that’s because I should love my neighbor. And see everyone as my neighbor. Everyone, no exceptions. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40, Mark 12:28–31; Luke 10:25–37; Catechism, 1706, 1776, 1825, 1849-1851, 1955)
Prayer
Prayer is a good idea, too. (Catechism, 2558–2565, 2566-2567)
Prayer comes in five varieties: blessing and adoration, petition, intercession, thanksgiving and praise. (Catechism, 2623-2643)
When I do petition- and intercession-type prayer, I’m asking God for something. Asking, not demanding. And I can’t make God do anything.
Prayer isn’t ‘magic.’ Uttering a predetermined sequence of words and making particular gestures is, at best, performance: not prayer. What I’m doing ‘on the inside’ matters. (Catechism, 2111)
Prayers, I’ve found, can be long or short. Some are very short. Like this one, recommended recently by Pope Francis:
That will change. News agencies, having exhausted variations on the Beirut blast theme, will turn to another incident’s drama.
And maybe Lebanon’s politics will change. Maybe the powers that be will start focusing more on the common good of their country, and less on whatever they’re doing now.
I’m not entirely convinced that the Lebanese Prime Minister’s gesture of dismissing his government will guarantee change for the better.
Lebanon’s ‘powers that be’ seem to include local and regional leaders whose ‘business as usual’ has roots older than Abraham. That’s a tangle that won’t get unraveled for generations. Centuries. Maybe millennia.
– – – And the Long Haul
(“Coppernia city,” Jaime Jasso, used w/o permission.)
“…Human-nature will not change. In any future great national trial, compared with the men of this, we shall have as weak, and as strong; as silly and as wise; as bad and good. Let us, therefore, study the incidents of this, as philosophy to learn wisdom from, and none of them as wrongs to be revenged….”
(Lincoln on the 1864 Election | November 10, 1864: In Response to a Serenade)
As I see it, the bad news is that Lincoln was right. Human nature hasn’t changed. We’re as weak, silly and bad as we were when Be’rot was a Phoenician port city. (June 13, 2018)
And the good news is that human nature hasn’t changed. We’re as strong and good as we ever were. (February 23, 2019)
Maybe even a little wiser. As I’ve said before, we do learn. Slowly. (November 10, 2017)
I think that we are, many of us, learning that working together is a good idea. And that fearing the future isn’t.
Maybe, eventually, if enough of us act as loving our neighbors and working together makes sense, we’ll build a reasonable facsimile of Pope John Paul II’s “civilization of love.”
Astronauts Bob Behnken and Doug Hurley rode Crew Dragon Endeavour down to the Gulf of Mexico, off the Pensacola coast.
They’re on SpaceX recovery shop GO Navigator, headed back to Florida.
Bob Behnken and Doug Hurley flew Crew Dragon Endeavour, C206, to the International Space Station on May 30. They’re leaving this afternoon.
I missed this morning’s farewell ceremony on the ISS. But NASA recorded it, so I’m a happy camper:
NASA’s live coverage starts in about a half-hour:
“…Live coverage of NASA’s SpaceX Demo-2 return will begin at 5:15 p.m. and continue through the targeted splashdown at 2:41 p.m. on Sunday, the first return of a commercially built and operated American spacecraft carrying astronauts from the space station. It will wrap up NASA’s SpaceX Demo-2 test fligh after more than two months at the International Space Station….”
(“NASA’s SpaceX Demo-2: Teams Targeting Gulf of Mexico for Splashdown,” Marie Lewis, Commercial Crew Program, NASA (August 1, 2020))
I’m embedding the NASA Live YouTube channel after listing links to stuff I’ve been looking at lately. This sort of thing fascinates me. Your experience may vary. 😉
I had, and have, more to say about the ISS, commercial spaceflight, being human and all that.
But, happily, my number-one daughter called this afternoon. We had a good talk, I’m looking forward to our next chats about Sabaton, winged hussars, psychology-sociology-psychiatry stuff and a mess of other allegedly-related topics.
Speaking of which, here’s the usual related (more or less) posts link list:
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Something new each Saturday.
Life, the universe and my circumstances permitting. I'm focusing on 'family stories' at the moment. ("A Change of Pace: Family Stories" (11/23/2024))
Blog - David Torkington
Spiritual theologian, author and speaker, specializing in prayer, Christian spirituality and mystical theology [the kind that makes sense-BHG]
I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
Maybe I’d get more attention by demonizing or deifying a candidate.
Then there were the 1896 election’s campaign issues.
And all that’s an over-simplified version.
But that’s not an option. Not if I take being a Catholic seriously. Patriotism comes with the territory. I’d better explain that.
Recapping: as a Catholic, I should be a good citizen, contributing to the good of society and taking part in public life. (Catechism, 1915, 2239)
I’ve updated my list of election resources.
I was living in room 20 of CentraCare’s Sauk Centre hospital from early morning of August 22 until around noon, September 2.
