Deeper in Drought, But 87.5% Vaccinated

Posted on July 17, 2021 by Brian H. Gill


(Drought conditions in Minnesota. (July 13, 2021))

There’s more to life than drought and disease, but that’s mostly what I’ll talk about today.

Partly because discussing what I’ve seen in headlines would mean more research and effort than I have time for this week. Besides, apart from a Hubble update and the Pope’s liturgical fine-tuning,1 it’s mostly routine.

Take this sample from yesterday and today, for example:

On the other hand, that “Covid deaths on the rise…” thing reminded me to check the Minnesota Department of Health’s Situation Update for COVID-19 page.

I’ll get back to that.

As for the rest —

In the News: Science, Religion, Chaos Stalking the Land, and Weather

I’m glad that the Hubble Space Telescope is back in working order.

Looks like scientists will be able to do that Hubble – James Webb Space Telescope teamup they’ve been hoping for.

Regarding Pope Francis and Latin Mass? Maybe we’re in for yet another ‘unprecedented catastrophic crisis of looming doom.’

Unless something juicier comes along. Don’t get me wrong. I take my faith, Mass included, seriously. Religion in news media? Not so much.

Climate change kills Germans as chaos stalks the land? Looks like global warming is 0ut, climate change is back in. And folks in Germany are having a bad month.

Drought intensifies in Minnesota? That’s much closer to home. But weather in the Upper Midwest isn’t national news.

Which isn’t an altogether bad thing.

This way, at least I’m not wading through screed: blaming either the previous administration or the current president for our excessive sunshine.

COVID-19, Peaks and Minnesota


(From Minnesota Department of Health, used w/o permission.)
(Minnesota COVID-19 deaths. (March 19, 2020-July 11, 2021))

Minnesota’s Department of Health has been tracking COVID-19 cases since March of 2020, including how many folks died because they’d caught the disease.

My state’s pandemic death toll peaked from April to June last year, and again from November to the end of January, 2021, more or less.

Minnesotans were dying from other stuff, too: old age, vehicle accidents, falling into a lake, drug overdose, whatever.

But at the moment, I’m looking at pandemic-related deaths.

We had a sort-of peak again this year, from April to June. But not much of a one.

Can’t say I’m disappointed.

I don’t see a peak starting now. Not in the MDH statistics.

Conspiracy Theories and Weirdness

'At the Sign of the UNHOLY THREE' cartoon, warning against fluoridated water, polio serum and mental hygiene. And 'communistic world government.' (1955)That could mean that a North Carolina-China conspiracy — in league with the Illuminati, pixies and giant mutant squirrels — stands ready to oppress us all with fluoridated water and polio serum.

Or COVID-19 vaccine. Or whatever seems scariest at the moment.

And that Minnesota stands alone, the last bastion of truth, justice and ice fishing.

Or maybe folks in my state have generally been more agreeable to getting vaccinated.

Or maybe we’re just lucky.

On the other hand, the Minnesota Department of Health could be in league with shape-shifting space-alien lizard-men.

Space-alien lizard-men who are using the Illuminati, pixies and giant mutant squirrels as a diversion. And that we’re about to be abducted by space aliens, destined to toil in the nougat mines of Wackadoo III.

And no, I do not think so. Seriously.

I’ve talked about mRNA vaccines, conspiracy theories and all that before. There’ll be a ‘more of my stuff’ link list later on.

The Usual Suspects and Me

I. Cruikshank's 1808 political cartoon, supporting Jenner, Dinsdale and Rose in the vaccination controversy.I’d prefer living in a world where at least a few of the frightfully faithful couldn’t be counted on to panic over new medical tech.

But the usual suspects have played their roles with smallpox and polio vaccines; and are back, denouncing today’s mRNA COVID-19 vaccines.

As for me, I think COVID-19 is a real disease; that it’s contagious, unpleasant and occasionally lethal; and that not getting my neighbor sick is a good idea.

Staying healthy myself doesn’t sound bad, either. Make that not catching COVID-19. I’m not, strictly speaking, healthy; and that’s another topic.

Apparently-religious scruples may not be the only issue in play currently. I gather that the newfangled vaccines are occasionally perceived as some sort of political plot. Or something dastardly, at any rate.

I’m not happy about the way some of today’s political hotshots have been using a real pandemic to get, keep, or exercise power. But, again, I think the pandemic is real; and that working for the common good makes sense.

So I waited until it was my turn to get vaccinated, and now have had both COVID-19 shots. And that brings me to “87.5% Vaccinated” in today’s title

Both Shots for Three, One Left for One

CentraCare, Sauk Centre, MinnesotaMy wife and I live with our son and a daughter. I’ve had both shots. So have my wife and son. The daughter who’s still under our roof has had her first, but not her second.

My son and I had a good chat when his second shot resulted in a trip to the emergency room. Probably resulted. His symptoms showed up hours after the vaccination and matched possible side effects, so I think the odds favor a cause-effect connection.

I experienced pretty much the same thing, only not nearly as extreme, after my second shot. And my wife’s going through much the same routine as I did. She’s currently recovering from her second shot.

It’s been and is unpleasant. But I still think lowering the odds of catching and spreading a potentially-lethal disease is a good idea.

Minnesota’s Drought, Very Briefly

I live in Sauk Centre, Minnesota, near the northwest corner of Stearns County.

Back in mid-June, we had moderate drought.

Last week we’d been promoted to severe drought. Now we’re at the edge of a severe drought area.

I talked about the drought last week.

As I said then, this isn’t good for crops, and so isn’t good for farmers.

And since this part of Minnesota is largely rural, anything that affects crops affects all of us. Directly or indirectly.

On a lighter note, I see that this week’s Minnesota drought map features a question mark shaped area of severe drought.

North Dakota’s Drought


(From Drought.gov, used w/o permission.)
(Drought conditions in North Dakota. (July 13, 2021))

Minnesota’s drought conditions are bad. North Dakota’s are worse. There’s a blotch of exceptional drought in the middle of that state.

They’re not in the news, not that I’ve seen, but I figure that wildfires in North Dakota, northern Minnesota and elsewhere account for Sauk Centre’s haze and less-than-comfortable Air Quality Index readings.

As for ‘not in the news?’ I could weave a conspiracy theory involving pixie pyromaniacs and whichever political party I figured my target audience hated and feared most.

But I won’t. I’ve lived in this part of the world most of my life. So I realize that wildfires aren’t news unless they’re local, Brobdingnagian, or in California. And that’s yet another topic.

Now, as promised, more of my stuff.

1 These three letters seem to be what inspired this week’s news media hoo-ha:

Posted in Discursive Detours, Journal | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Minnesota, July, 2021: Drier and Deeper in Drought

Posted on July 10, 2021 by Brian H. Gill


(Drought conditions in Minnesota. (July 6, 2021))

My part of Stearns County, Minnesota, had moderate drought back in mid-June. This week’s map promoted us to severe drought.

Maybe the map’s drought data included the 38 hundredths of an inch we got on Tuesday. But I doubt it.

Drought.gov’s map is comparatively simple, but it reflects a very complex set of data. So I figure the folks updating it need time. Or, more likely, folks and software need time.

At any rate, this has been a dry summer. That’s not good for crops, which isn’t good for farmers. And since my part of Minnesota is largely rural, anything that affects crops affects all of us. Directly or indirectly.1

Rain and Regional Rivers

Rain in the Upper Midwest. For one day. (July 6, 2021))
(From National Weather Service, used w/o permission.)
(Tuesday morning rain: welcome, if incomplete, drought relief. (July 6, 2021))

That said, Tuesday’s rain was welcome. And a nearly all-day affair, so the soil had time to absorb the water. Although that’s not so much of an issue around Sauk Centre. That seems likely, at least.

Our soil’s sandy by my standards. I grew up in the Red River Valley. Red River of the North that is. The Red River that runs, by our reckoning, from where the Bois de Sioux and Otter Tail rivers join northward to Lake Winnipeg.2

My Red River Valley isn’t so much a valley, as a huge lakebed. Soil there is the sort that gets packaged and marketed as potting soil in some parts of my country.

Not that potting soil is an export product. And I’m drifting off-topic.

Trends, Terror and Assumptions

Rain in the Upper Midwest. For one day. (July 6, 2021))
(From National Weather Service, used w/o permission.)
(“Annual average temperature for the contiguous United States from 1895-2016. … The linear trend of 1.45°F per century over the period is represented by a straight blue line.”
“Mapping U.S. climate trends,” Jake Crouch, Climate.gov (December 21, 2017))

My hat’s off to Jake Crouch. Instead of drawing a straight line from 1895 to 2016 on that annual average temperature graph, and telling us that pretty soon Earth’s oceans will boil; he talked about statistics and February.3

Basically, he — as I see it — tried explaining that climate is complicated. And changes.

That’s not particularly exciting, so I’ll have fun with that 1895-2016 graph and unwarranted assumptions.

Perils Abound! The Dust Bowl, a Coming Ice Age and Global Climate Angst

Doing a linear trend from 1911 to 1933, I’d get a really steep linear trend: continental warming to delight the hearts of tabloid editors and assorted activists.

More seriously, I’m not happy that the 1972-2016 linear trend is almost as steep.

If I accept the conventional ‘we learn nothing from history’ attitude, then I could assume that we’ve got a Mega-Dust-Bowl Apocalypse coming next year. Or maybe the year after.

Maybe so, or maybe not.

I’m guessing “not,” since I’ve noticed that we do learn. Some of us.

On the ‘down’ side, current average temperatures are higher than in the 1930s.

That’s significant, assuming that recent temperature readings came from close analogs to the 1930s weather stations.

On the other hand, if 1930s readings were from thermometers a mile or so out on the prairie, while recent data came from thermometers at the same location: which is now a paved parking lot — that’s another topic. Almost.

An ‘up’ side is that we have learned. Farmers have, at any rate.

These days, for example, plowing across slopes is standard practice.4 In places I’ve seen, at any rate. That, and leaving plowed soil in biggish chunks, helps keep soil from washing or blowing away: come drought or downpour.

Beware the Coming Ice Age!

Global warming protestors in penguin suits: Vienna. (2017) via CNN, used w/o permission.Then there’s the 1953-1968 linear trend.

That inspired “global cooling” headlines, ‘coming ice age’ documentaries and science fiction tales.

The latter were of more interest to science nerds like me, I strongly suspect.

In any case, by 1970 we had juicier apocalyptic visions to embrace.

“…in ten years all important animal life in the sea will be extinct. Large areas of coastline will have to be evacuated because of the stench of dead fish….”
(Paul Ehrlich, on first Earth Day, (1970))

Somewhere between the mid-1970s and early 21st century, global warming worked its way to top-of-the charts for scary catchphrases. I hadn’t been tracking such things, and so missed when “climate change” came into vogue.

Maybe the current crop of “global warming” headlines in my news feeds heralds a return to traditional doomsday scenarios. Or maybe not.

Now, that post-1972 warming trend just simply must have been caused by someone.

Or, better yet, something big and familiar.

Starbucks, the Coming Shopocalypse and/or Global Warming


(From Starbucks, via AP/KOMONews.com, used w/o permission.)

It’s been five and a half years since Starbucks and the War on Christmas was an item.

Basically, the idea was that Christians were miffed that Starbucks didn’t take their frangible feelings into account when planning the chain’s holiday marketing.

Make that some Christians. I didn’t learn about the alleged crisis until I saw ‘red cup controversy’ headlines.

Anyway, casting Christians as easily-offended twits isn’t hard.

Procter & Gamble Panic

Proctor and Gamble's pre-1980s logo, before the Revelation 12:1 'satanic' rumors.Take when Procter & Gamble changed their logo, for example, back in the 1980s.

News media had a field day, discussing a rumor that the P&G logo was Satanic. And suggesting that Christians, aghast at Revelation 12:1 mockery and the dread number 666, were avoiding P&G in droves.5

I’m guessing that some Christians really were upset.

Maybe because someone drew a line between the logo’s 13 stars and Revelation 12:1. That’s the bit that mentions “…a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.”

And aimed their outrage at P&G instead of the Catholic Church.

The alleged subliminal “666” in the old P&G logo’s whiskers didn’t help. Now that I’ve mentioned it, you can probably see it in the whisker curlicues.

I figure that Revelation 12:1 is a reasonably clear reference to Genesis 37:9: Joseph’s dream, where “the sun and the moon and eleven stars” bow to Joseph. And that’s yet another topic.

“Reverend Billy” and the Shopocalypse

And sometime Christian crackpots are simply too good to be true.

Like when Reverend Billy’s Church of Stop Shopping marched on Starbucks.

When Reverend Billy isn’t dressed up like a 1980s televangelist with a dash of 1960s campus activist, he’s William Talen: from a Dutch Calvinist family in Minnesota, South Dakota and Wisconsin.6

They moved around a bit, I gather.

How much of his Reverend Billy act is performance art, and how much stems from a sincere desire to save souls from the — I am not making this up — Shopocalypse? I have no idea.

I’m drifting off-topic. Again.

Where was I? Drought, rain, statistics, linear trends and Starbucks. Right.

After That, But Not Necessarily Because of That

I pegged the current warming trend’s start as 1972. That’s a start, but I’m not through.

Scaring folks with global warming isn’t enough. If I’m going to get attention, I need to blame the crisis on someone or something.

Preferably something big and not beloved by my target audience.

My culture’s traditional ‘Biblical’ approach is to select snippets from Revelation and maybe some of the more metaphorical Old Testament books.

I’m not sure how I’d fit Revelation 12, say, into anti-Starbucks screed.

But never mind that. I’m taking a more up-t0-date “scientific” approach.

What started around 1972, and is still on my culture’s radar?

After sedulous and incisive research — checking out two ‘this year in history’ pages on Wikipedia — I had my answer: Starbucks!

It’s obvious!!

The first Starbucks opened in 1971, in Seattle.

Seattle, Washington, is the western United States.

There’s a dreadful drought in progress in the western United States.

The Starbucks chain has been growing ever since 1971.7

America’s average temperature has been rising ever since 1972.

YOU SEE??!!! IT ALL FITS!!!!!

Considering how easily crackpot notions get traction, I’d better make this disclaimer: I AM MAKING THIS UP. Seriously, I do not think that Starbucks causes global warming.

My intent was to blow off a little steam. And maybe suggest that taking a deep breath and thinking is often a good idea.

Finally, my usual review of flamingly-obvious points. Or stuff I think should be obvious.

Making Sense

Detail, Albrecht Durer's 'The Revelation of St John: 12.' (1497-1498 )I’m a very emotional man. That’s partly why I don’t trust my feelings, and that’s yet again another topic.

Letting emotions run my life is an option. A daft option, but an option nonetheless. I’ve got free will. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1704-1707, 1730-1738, 1853, 2339)

Emotions are part of being human. (Catechism, 1762-1770)

Being human, I’m a creature made of spirit and the stuff of this world, able to think — and decide whether I try to make sense, or not. (Genesis 1:27, 2:7; Catechism, 355-373, 1705-1706)

Sometimes folks don’t make sense. Making bad decisions, and experiencing their consequences, is possible. And all too common.

“…The Whole Law and the Prophets….”

Detail, Thomas Cole's 'The Journey of Life - Youth.' (1840)I won’t heap verbal abuse on folks who imply that (all) Christians were angry about red coffee cups, or on folks who followed Reverend Billy’s lead. That’s because I take our Lord seriously.

“‘Teacher, ‘which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
“He said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.
“This is the greatest and the first commandment.
“The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
“The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.'”
(Matthew 22:36-40)

Loving God wasn’t a new idea.

“‘Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD alone!
“Therefore, you shall love the LORD, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength.
“Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today.
“Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest.
“Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead.”
(Deuteronomy 6:4-8)

A set of tefillinNeither was loving neighbors. That’s covered in Leviticus 19:13-18.

The idea that everybody is my neighbor is, I think, implicit Psalms 146:9Psalms 146:9, and Malachi 3:5: “The LORD protects the stranger” and all that.

There’s taking metaphor literally, too. Which reminds me, I haven’t talked about tefillin in a long time. And that’s still another topic.

On the other hand, I have talked climate, being human and vaguely-related topics:

1 Minnesota and my town:

2 A river and a little rain:

3 Statistics, trends and straight lines:

4 The 1930s drought and farming:

5 Procter & Gamble, pareidolia and maybe paranoia:

6 I am not making this up:

7 A highly successful coffeehouse chain:

Posted in Discursive Detours, Journal | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Fourth of July, and Both Kinds at Mass! Whee!

Posted on July 4, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

United States of America flag.

I heard the occasional snap-crackle-boom of fireworks last night. Someone in the neighborhood, I’m guessing.

Sauk Centre’s municipal fireworks show is usually during Sinclair Lewis Days. I don’t know if that’ll happen this year, what with the drought. And the racetrack’s intermittent pyrotechnic displays are one with Nineveh and Tyre, along with the racetrack.

But someone, somewhere is honoring my culture’s traditions: or being a public nuisance, from another perspective.

Me? I enjoy municipal and private-sector fireworks. In moderation.

On the other hand, there was that time, a few years back, where we heard — and felt — a whacking great BOOM!!

Turns out, someone had been planning to burn dead timber and other combustibles.

No problem there. This is a rural area, so our rules and regulations aren’t nearly as tangled as a big city’s.

These folks had a fair amount of burnable stuff, so they’d dug a considerable hole, shoved the trash in, banked earth around it and poured in — diesel oil, I think it was — to get the fire started.

Which would have been a good idea, except for one thing: there wasn’t much wind, so conditions were just right for a little diesel fuel vapor to accumulate in that hole.

Result, when they introduced an ignition source, was an abrupt exothermic reaction between atmospheric oxygen and petroleum vapor.

A whacking great BOOM, in other words. Nobody, happily, was killed: or even hurt. Shook up a bit, though, I’d think.

Which doesn’t have much to do with Independence Day fireworks, now that I think of it.

I did, however, see a party cannon in the local Walmart; but never mind that. What I planned on mentioned happened at Mass today.

The Eucharist, COVID-19 and My Home Parish

The masked Minnesotan.Minnesota hasn’t had the worst possible experience with the COVID-19 pandemic, but we’ve had our share of deaths, illness and assorted inconveniences.

I emphatically did not enjoy missing Holy Week Masses last year.

But a pandemic was in progress, state civil authorities said that getting together in big crowds was a bad idea, and our archdiocese and diocese authorities agreed. To an extent.

So public Mass was a no-go for months. I didn’t like that, but acting as if death and disease don’t matter isn’t required: working for the common good is.

I’ve talked about that before, fairly often. There’s the usual links to what I’ve said at the end of this journal entry.

At any rate, public Masses resumed — with precautions that I didn’t enjoy, but observed. Again, it’s a ‘common good’ thing.

What I missed most was receiving Holy Communion under both kinds at Mass. That’s churchspeak for receiving bread and wine: the Body and Blood.

What we were doing was just fine, a real Eucharist and all that. And what we’d been doing before the pandemic was just fine, too.

Receiving under both kinds isn’t standard procedure for this region, but the parish had gone through proper channels and gotten the okay for our ‘both kinds’ Eucharist. That’s something I hadn’t pushed for, but which I was and am glad someone did.

Until the COVID-19 pandemic.

Just having public Masses again was great.

I missed the ‘both kinds,’ not because I think it’s the only ‘real’ Mass or that I’m holier that way: but just because I like it. The Eucharist seems more complete that way, even though I know the standard procedure for our area is good, too.

So this year’s Independence Day Mass was particularly special.

Pandemic precautions have been gradually eased back. And today we had the Eucharist under both kinds again.

And, like I said, I like it.

I’d have been okay if we didn’t resume the practice, but I’m glad we did.

More, or less, of the same; America, COVID-19 pandemic and worship:

Posted in Being Catholic, Journal | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Alabaster Cities, Fireworks, a Condo Disaster and Tears

Posted on July 3, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

Cheez-It(r) 'Big Cheese' carving inspired by Mt. Rushmore. (2007)

Grant Hamilton's cartoon comment on William Jennings Bryan's 1896 'Cross of Gold' speech at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago.Patriotism comes in many flavors: cheesy, sour, salty: and that’s enough ‘flavor.’

Maybe too much.

My country’s Independence Day celebration, our Fourth of July, started me thinking about patriotism.

Also screwball notions, drought and Florida’s pancaked condo.

But mostly, the impending holiday is probably why part of an old song has been on my mind’s playlist this week:

“…O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!…”
(“America the Beautiful,” Katharine Lee Bates, 1911 version, via Wikipedia)

So that’s what I’ll start with.

Professor Bates’ train ride from Massachusetts to a job in Colorado Springs inspired “America the Beautiful.” That’s what I’ve been told, at any rate.

Her itinerary explains amber waves of grain and purple mountain majesties. But I figure “alabaster cities” needs explaining. That phrase arguably happened because she stopped by the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago.1

Expo 1893

Charles Dudley Arnold's photo of Chicago Expo 1893; Court of Honor, Columbia fountain.
(From Charles Dudley Arnold, via Meisje L. J. Connor, used w/o permission.)
(“Court of Honor with Columbia fountain in the midground”
Meisje L. J. Connor, “World’s Columbian Exposition 1893: Architecture and Innovation in Context” (2011))

The Columbian Exposition’s nickname was “White City.”

Mainly because the Beaux-Arts city of the future’s buildings had white facades.

That was in 1893.

The exposition was a big success.

Apart from a fire that killed 16 people, and an assassin who killed Chicago’s mayor.

After that, Chicago’s “White City” became a potential white elephant.

Folks talked about upgrading “White City” buildings with real marble. But that’d be expensive. Besides, it might not be the best use of prime Chicago real estate.2

Then, in 1894, a couple fires settled the question.

Chicago’s “White City” in Retrospect

Charles Dudley Arnold's photo of Chicago Expo 1893; Court of Honor, Columbia fountain.
(From unknown artist, via Chicagology.com, used w/o permission.)
(Fire in the “White City:” Peristyle, Music Hall, Casino and Manufactures Building (1894))

A contemporary account said that the fire started in the Casino. Then it ran along the Peristyle into the Music Hall. Whether or not that’s fraught with figurative fancies and rife with significant symbolism — is another topic.

Off the cuff, I’d say “not.” But I could be wrong. A key term there is “fancies.”

Despite the passing of generations, Chicago’s big exposition wasn’t entirely forgotten.

In 1995, someone got 15 minutes of fame by saying that the “White City” stood for male chauvinist racist oppression.3

I’ll grant that America in 1893 wasn’t like my country in 1995. Or 2021, for that matter.

We’ve made changes. Some of those changes have been for the better.

But I won’t let Sixties sensibilities interfere with enjoying and appreciating a song suggesting that America isn’t a complete wash.

Besides, I think “patriot dreams” make sense. Make that can make sense.

Songs and Pigeonholes

Scott Adam's 'Dilbert' strip: Dogbert's Good News Show. ('We'll all die!') (1993)
(From Scott Adams, used w/o permission.)
(Dogbert’s good news show. Made sense in 1993. Still does.)

I wouldn’t mind if professor Bates’ song became my country’s national anthem.

Partly because I think patriot dreams matter at least as much as bombs bursting in air.

That may need explanation, or maybe not; in any case, I’ll back up about six decades.4

I was in my teens when McCarthyism’s dying gasps mingled with lyrics like these:

“…If the mind is baffled
When the rules don’t fit the game,
Who will answer?…”
(“Who Will Answer?” Ed Ames (1967))

“…Go ahead and hate your neighbour
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You can justify it in the end….”
(“One Tin Soldier” Dennis Lambert, Brian Potter (1969))

“…Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace….”
(“Imagine,” John Lennon (1971))

To this day, the words “patriot” and “conservative” register as ‘crazy person lost in yesteryearning’ — unless I think about it. Which is a reason I make thinking a priority.

I don’t call myself a conservative, liberal, libertarian, or whatever: mainly because today’s sociopolitical pigeonholes and my beliefs aren’t a good match.

I’m a Catholic, so my views on capital punishment, marriage, and staying healthy line up with liberal, conservative, undecided — and that’s yet another topic. Topics.

So, being Catholic, can I be a patriot?

Yes, but it depends on what the word means. I’ll take Merriam-Webster’s definition:5 “one who loves and supports his or her country.”

Love, Faith and Respecting Authority — Within Reason

Edison Lee comic: does anyone even know what truth looks like any more?Because I’m a Catholic, I should act as if loving God and my neighbors matters. And I should see everyone as my neighbor. No exceptions. (Matthew 5:43-44, 7:12, 22:36-40, Mark 12:28-31; 10:25-27, 29-37; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1789)

That means getting involved in public life — in whatever ways my culture and circumstances permit — recognizing humanity’s solidarity, and respecting authority. Within reason. (Catechism, 1778, 1915, 1897-1917, 1939-1942, 2199, 2238-2243)

That’s easier when my reason and emotions are in sync. But, easy or hard, using my brain is a good idea. (Catechism, 1777-1782)

Seeing my country’s version of government as something that works is okay.

Thinking that everyone should be an American? And that America’s constitutional republic with a strong democratic tradition6 is the only proper political system?

Not so much.

There isn’t one ‘correct’ form of government. Different cultures and eras have different needs, and that’s okay. (Catechism, 1915, 1957-1958)

But, getting back to “am I a patriot?”

On the whole, I like being an American. I think recognizing humanity’s solidarity, doing what I can with my neighbors, and respecting authority — within reason — makes sense.

So, yes: I suppose I’m a patriot.

Washington the Ascended??

Detail of 'The Apotheosis of Washington,' United States Capitol rotunda; Constantino Brumidi. (1865)
(From Constantino Brumidi, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(Detail of the U.S. Capital rotunda’s “The Apotheosis of Washington” fresco. (1865))

But that emphatically does not mean I think George Washington is a god, sitting between the goddesses of victory and liberty.7

Or that American presidents execute a divine mandate, trampling Tyranny and Kingly Power while wearing imperial purple.

Even if I hadn’t become a Catholic, spending my teens in the Sixties would have discouraged the notion.

Besides, the way Washington the Ascended is holding that blade, I get the impression that he’s about to stab Victory’s leg. And that’s yet another topic.

Celebrations, Somewhat Subdued

Juneau's harbor: boats and fireworks.A bunch of thoroughly fed-up British subjects signed a Declaration of Independence 245 years ago this Sunday.

I think that’s something to celebrate.

Even though it touched off a war with an 18th century superpower, and indirectly launched centuries of political squabbling. With the occasional brouhaha and one internal war.

But here in Minnesota, we’re discouraged from celebrating. With fireworks, that is. There’s a drought in progress, so sparking a wildfire is easier than usual.

Folks in the Miami-Dade area nixed municipal fireworks, but for another reason.

God Wills It?!!

Marco Bello/Reuters's photo of Surfside, Florida, Condo: bunk bed in what's left of a bedroom. (June 24, 2021)
(From Marco Bello/Reuters, used w/o permission.)
(“A bunk bed is seen in a partially collapsed building in Surfside near Miami Beach, Florida, U.S.” (June 24, 2021)
(Reuters))

Maybe someone’s said that Minnesota’s drought and the Surfside Condo collapse are “God’s will.”

I won’t.

That’s because I’m a Catholic. We’re told that God doesn’t make bad things happen.

“…57. If God is omnipotent and provident, why then does evil exist?
309-310
324, 400
To this question, as painful and mysterious as it is, only the whole of Christian faith can constitute a response. God is not in any way — directly or indirectly — the cause of evil….”
(“Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church” (2005)

I can’t, and won’t try, to summarize “the whole of Christian faith” — but I’ll skip lightly over one or two points.

Free Will

Walt Kelly's Pogo characters and 'Deck Us All With Boston Charlie.' (1961)Like every other human being, I have free will. I can decide what I do, or don’t do. (Catechism, 1730-1738)

God is the Almighty, infinitely good, and “a mystery beyond words;” beyond time and space, “here” in all places and all times. I’d explain how that works, but I can’t. I don’t fully understand God. Nobody, other than God, does. (Catechism, 206, 230, 268, 284, 300, 385, 639, 647-648, 2779)

Basically, God’s God, I’m not.

Now, let’s say that I decide to throw a lit sparkler into dry grass.

That’d be daft, but I could. Free will, remember?

Next, let’s say that God puts out the wildfire I started.

Maybe a highly localized downpour, miraculous evacuation of oxygen from the area: whatever. It’s possible, but I’d say very unlikely.

So, in this hypothetical scenario, I’ve acted like a nitwit arsonist and started a wildfire. Is that “God’s will?” Is God responsible for the property damage and loss of life that may result?

I don’t think so.

And I doubt that ‘it’s God’s fault’ would be my best defense during subsequent trials.

Happily, that’s a hypothetical situation. I won’t be lighting any sparklers this weekend, and wouldn’t chuck them into tinder if I did.

There’s precious little reason for celebration where about half a condo collapsed.

Children, grandparents and parents went to bed Wednesday night and either didn’t wake up, or woke up while their homes fell.

That empty bunk bed may be the most eloquent image from the disaster that I’ve seen.

“…She Heard the Sound of the Tower She Lived in Collapsing…”

Surfside condo collapse: six moments in 21 seconds, from surveillance footage via BBC News. (June 24, 2021)But I’ve run into some not-entirely-bad news, like this:

“…she put her pills and her credit cards in her purse and lit the candle for the Lady Guadalupe, considered a national symbol and matriarch for Mexicans and Mexican-Americans, as well as an important Catholic figure….

“…Believing the feeling came from an open balcony door, she went to her living room to try to close it. But then behind her she saw a crack coming from the ceiling, quickly snaking down the wall and opening fast.

“Something inside of me said run,” Monteagudo said. ‘You have to run to save your life.’

In moments, she put on the first clothes she could find, grabbed her phone and her purse, blew out the candle and ran out of her apartment, she said.

“Once in the hallway, she found quiet: no panic, no alarms and no one else running.

“She knew not to take the elevator but didn’t know that the emergency stairs were just beside her unit, so she went to the farthest set of stairs instead….”
(“A Florida woman saw a crack forming in her condo and told herself, ‘You have to run to save your life’,” Madeline Holcombe, CNN (July 1, 2021))

Monteagudo multi-tasked on her way down the far stairs.

“…as she was flying down the six floors of stairs, pleading with God to let her see her sons and grandsons again, she heard the sound of the tower she lived in collapsing. If she had been in the stairs closest to her home, she likely would have been crushed, her son said….”
(Madeline Holcombe, CNN (July 1, 2021))

Monteagudo’s survival is good news.

But it raises questions.

Some Live, Some Die, I Don’t Know Why

Champlain Towers South condos before and after aerial photo. From BBC News, used w/o permission.Why did God answer her prayers — but, apparently, not those of folks who had a few moments before being crushed?

Why did God let a building with so many folks sleeping in it collapse? And why did the Almighty let folks who could have prioritized repairs on the condo — not do so?

I don’t know.

As I keep saying: God’s God, I’m not. And we should all be very thankful for that. I’m not qualified. Not even close.

Now, the usual allegedly-related stuff:

1 A song and a professor:

2 World’s Fair, Chicago:

3 Expo 1893, legacy:

4 Remembering the Sixties, briefly:

5 Definition:

  • Merriam-Webster dictionary

6 My country, very briefly:

7 I am not making this up:

Posted in Being Catholic, Discursive Detours | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Health and Surfside Condo Collapse: Siloam Scenarios

Posted on June 26, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

Sunday’s rain dampened Sauk Centre’s streets, but delivered under four tenths of an inch.

Ash Street South, Sauk Centre, Minnesota. (June 14, 2021)That’s been good for our weeds, and for grass next to sidewalks. But it’s nowhere near the two or three inches we need to get back to adequate soil moisture in these parts.

Medical issues have been distracting me.

I took one of the kids to an unscheduled clinic checkup with follow-up lab work.

Then another enjoyed, if that’s the word, a day or so in the hospital. Not Sauk Centre’s hospital. One up in North Dakota, near where she lives.

On the ‘up’ side, I’ve been okay this week, which left me free for chauffeur duty.

I’m hoping the next week here will be less eventful.

But, quoting an old Minnesota saying, it could be worse.

I woke up Thursday morning.

A Hallway, a Neighbor and a Balcony

Champlain Towers South condos, old marketing photo.
(From Miami Condo Investments, used w/o permission.)

At least four folks sleeping in a nice Miami/Surfside beachfront condominium didn’t.

Or, maybe, they woke up while being crushed in a collapsing tower.


(From FOX 13 Tampa Bay, via YouTube, used w/o permission.)

Granted, I don’t know that the four known fatalities and maybe 99 missing bodies were asleep when half of Champlain Towers South fell. But since the incident happened at half past one in the morning, give or take, I’d say it’s a reasonable assumption.

Those numbers may have changed by the time you read this.

The last I heard, rescuers have extracted at least 35 survivors from what’s left of Champlain Towers South.

Maybe 11 were injured. All, I’d imagine, were flustered by the incident.

One chap said that he and his wife noticed the commotion, grabbed a few things and scooted out their front door.

Just one problem.

Most of the hallway on their level wasn’t there.

On the other hand, some of it was.

So they looked around, noted an absence of conventional exits, and joined a neighbor on his balcony. Where emergency responders with a crane rescued them.

Distress and DNA

Champlain Towers South condos, website landing page.
(From Champlain Towers South condos, used w/o permission.)

When I saw ‘Miami residence collapse’ headlines in my news feed, my first guess was that the owner of a low-rent building had decided that maintenance and repairs didn’t matter.

Although witless management philosophy may have been a factor, maybe it wasn’t.

All I’m certain of right now is that a few people are definitely dead, and very likely upwards of a hundred and fifty stopped living in the wee hours of Thursday morning.

On the other hand, searchers have heard noises inside the rubble that survivors might be making. Maybe some of the missing folks are alive.

Authorities are getting DNA from relatives of folks who may have been inside. That’ll help sort out who’s who while sifting through rubble and remains.

Names and Loss

Champlain Towers South condos before and after aerial photo.
(From BBC News, used w/o permission.)

I figure it’s bad news when anyone’s squashed in their sleep. Or while awake, for that matter. But I also figure it’s natural that a victim’s status matters. At least to folks connected with the stricken bigwigs.

Paraguayans, for example, have probably lost their First Lady’s sister and her family.

Folks with name recognition in Chile are missing, too.

Champlain Towers South was also home to folks from Argentina, Venezuela, Colombia and Uruguay.

Maybe that’s why Miami search and rescue folks have been getting help. Or maybe city, state and national decision-makers see the incident as a situation where folks need help. I strongly suspect the latter’s closer to the mark.

It’s early days, but I’ve been glad to see no wild accusations or crackpot assertions. Not that I’ve looked for such.

I figure it’s just a matter of time before someone gets attention by blaming the current or former American president. Or by claiming that an Agarthan-Masonic-Colombian cabal collapsed the condos.

Meanwhile, we’ve learned a few names.

Jonah Handler, 15, and his mother lived in Champlain Towers South. He’s alive. His mother is missing.

Stacie Fang, 54, endured blunt-force injuries but died at Aventura Hospital.

Barry Cohen, his wife and a neighbor waited on a balcony until rescuers arrived with a crane.

Some folks lost their homes Thursday morning. Some lost their lives. Others lost friends and family. No pressure, but prayer for all of the above couldn’t hurt.

Expectations

Surfside Condominium: a human and canine search and rescue team.
(From Miami-Dade Fire Rescue Department, via Wikipedia, used w/o permission.)
(Search and rescue in the Champlain Towers South ruins. (June 24, 2021))

There’s more to say about the Champlain Towers South collapse.

Some of it’s being said in the news, although the George Floyd trial’s taken over top billing in my news feed. Possibly because I live in Minnesota.

I expect we’ll see the usual progression: names and mini-biographies of the dead, pronouncements by politicos, speculation by experts; and eventually analysis and discussion of why a high-end residential tower built in 1981 pancaked in 2021.

Memento Mori, Carpe Diem and Me

Pieter Claesz's 'Vanitas Still Life.' (1630)I was going to be writing about prayer this week, but between two family health-related situations and Thursday’s news haven’t got more than a few notes.

Looks like I’m more ruffled that I’d realized. Ruffled? Flustered? You get the idea.

I could try bluffing my way through what I’d planned. But that doesn’t look like a good idea. So instead I’ll repeat — paraphrase? — what I’ve said before.

Life happens.

Death happens.

Breaks in routine are, by definition, unexpected.

Assuming that God smites sinners, and that therefore folks experiencing breaks in routine are naughty, is all too common.

Jesus talked about that.

“Or those eighteen people who were killed when the tower at Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem?
“By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!'”
(Luke 13:4–5)

The old cliche — ‘[verb] in haste, repent at leisure’ — notwithstanding, I can’t be sure how much leisure I’ll have.

I’ve got free will, so I’ve got options. Lots of options.

I could take a page from my culture’s spiritual tradition, writhing in anguish and making life miserable for myself and anyone in earshot.

Or I could be more up-to-date, proclaim that all this religious stuff is a scam, and [verb] like there’s no tomorrow. Which, eventually, there wouldn’t be. For me.

Those options strike me as silly at best. So I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing: trying to avoid my [verbs], and keep trying when I fail in that effort.

And praying. I’ll keep praying. Maybe I’ll get around to writing about that next week.

Then again, maybe not.

In any case, here’s the seemingly-inevitable list of links. And after that, links to resources I used while writing this.

Posted in Discursive Detours, Journal | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments