Police, I-35W Bridge Collapse and All That

Posted on February 5, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

I’ll be talking about police, law enforcement and authority.

But this is not a ‘political’ piece.

I won’t be demonizing or deifying anyone, or demanding that Congress abolish the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB).

Back in 2007, when part of the I-35W Mississippi River bridge fell into the Mississippi River, defunding the NTSB would have made sense. Sort of.

As much sense as I’ve occasionally seen in 2020 politics, at any rate. And this year’s, too.

Thief Takers, Gaslamps and Bow Street Runners

'Blessed Effects of Gas Lights.' (1814)I read mysteries. The sort Agatha Christie and John Dickson Carr wrote. That’s not all I read, and that’s another topic.

Anyway, most of Carr’s “Fire, Burn!” happens in 1829 London. But never mind Carr’s time travel mystery historical romance.

In the story, Bow Street Runners were London’s existing and corrupt police force. As usual, Carr had done his research, giving readers an accurate picture of Georgian London.

Also as usual, Carr didn’t let historical detail stymie the story. The Bow Street Runners, London, England and all were far more complex than the mystery’s setting.

Which probably explains why Carr mentioned gaslamps and their explosive potential: but didn’t devote a chapter to the things. And I’m wandering off-topic again.

Depending on who you listen to, London’s Bow Street Runners were the city’s first professional police force. Or semi-private enforcers with extortion as a side hustle. Following Carr’s example, I’m over-simplifying the situation something fierce.

And I suspect that Bow Street Runners get confused with England’s thief-takers: a private-sector service.

A thief-taker would, for a fee, catch a thief. Catch someone, at any rate. Recovering stolen property was another service they provided.

Problem was, folks began suspecting that thief-takers were catching hapless mooks who couldn’t prove that they weren’t guilty. And occasionally arranging burglaries in order to drum up business. All of which wasn’t, in the long run, good for business.

Another version of who did what first says that the Thames River Police were the city’s first police force.1

Perceptions

'A London Fog. — Drawn by Duncan.' (1847)My take on the situation is that London eventually got the Metropolitan Police.

And that getting by for so long without organized law enforcement is — impressive.

I see that as a tribute to English pluck. Or incredibly good luck. Or something else.

I’m particularly impressed that London eventually accepted a government-sponsored police force. I gather that English perceptions of government enforcers were affected by France’s Maréchaussée.2

Can’t say that I blame the English for being diffident about a national military force tasked with enforcing government rules. The national government’s notion of local rules, that is.

And I am not going to get political.

Well, not very political.

I do not see laws or authority as threats to my life or freedom. But I think “legal” doesn’t always mean “right.”

And I think making some decisions at a local and regional level is a good idea. Usually.

Subsidiarity

On one level, having America’s national government establish a uniform building code for all 50 states sounds good.

Architects and contractors would have only one set of rules to learn.

Folks wanting a new building could choose the best team from any state, with no interstate code or permit concerns.

But I live in Minnesota. Outside, less than two feet from where I’m sitting, water is a mineral. And will be, probably, for a month or more.

If America’s uniform building code was designed around my area’s climate, I’d be okay. But I’m pretty sure that folks living in, say, Hawaii or Arizona might be unsatisfied.

Letting folks who are as close to grass roots as possible make decisions that affect them seems reasonable to me. Which is just as well. The Catholic version of subsidiarity is the reverse of micromanagement. Sort of.3

Subsidiarity is part of the Church’s social doctrine. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1883)

I’ve talked about this before. (March 11, 2020)

Memento More, Carpe Diem, and De Gustibus Non est Disputandum

I’ve also talked about authority, law and making sense before. Quite often.

If you know what I’ll say about it, feel free to skip over this next part.

Or, better yet, get yourself a cup of coffee. Take a walk. Sort your sock drawer.

Carpe diem! That’s Latin, so you know it’s smart. And I am not going to get started on that again.

Okay. Odds are that you’ve heard me say this before, but —

Respecting Authority, Within Reason

I’m an American, born during the Truman administration. On the whole, I like being an American. I even like our system of government. On the whole.

But I don’t think everyone should be an American, or have a government like ours. And I sure don’t think my country’s political style is perfect.

There isn’t a one-size-fits-all system of government. What matters is that whatever system we use follows the principles of natural law. (Catechism, 1897–1917)

Natural law? That’s the ethical principles woven into reality. Natural law doesn’t change. Our rules do. (January 30, 2021; September 13, 2018; February 5, 2017)

Responsibility matters. For leaders and citizens.

I’m a citizen, so I should respect authority.

Legitimate authority. (Catechism, 1903)

Here’s where it gets tricky.

Respect for authority is a good idea. So is obedience. Reasoned obedience. Blind obedience is a bad idea and I shouldn’t do it. No king, president, or other boss, is above the natural law. (Catechism, 1900–1903)

Respecting authority is, or should be, easy when leaders respect natural law.

But sometimes the folks in charge make laws and give orders that violate natural law.

When that happens, the right thing to do may be to not follow orders, or to break a law. (Catechism, 2242–2243)

Like I said earlier, this isn’t political.

Saying that a leader isn’t above natural law doesn’t mean that I see [politico A] as evil incarnate and [politico B] as a Moses-Wolverine-Batman mashup.

And I emphatically do not think we’re at the point where whatever happened on January 6 makes sense. Assuming that American news media’s version is vaguely accurate.

Still reading this? Thanks!

Looking for more of the same? De gustibus non est disputandum, whatever floats your boat and here you go:

1 Law enforcement and a mystery writer:

2 Enforcing lawn ordinances, a military option:

3 Subsidiarity, a Catholic perspective:

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Emotions, Options, Faith and Making Sense

Posted on February 4, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

I’ve been feeling frustrated.

Nothing unusual there.

Feeling frustrated, satisfied, discouraged, elated: that’s part of being human. Emotions happen. I’ll get back to that.

Feeling frustrated isn’t anything new, either:

“There he came to a cave, where he took shelter. But the word of the LORD came to him: Why are you here, Elijah?
“He answered: ‘I have been most zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts, but the Israelites have forsaken your covenant. They have destroyed your altars and murdered your prophets by the sword. I alone remain, and they seek to take my life.'”
(1 Kings 19:9–10)

Not that I think I’m in Elijah’s class. That’d be daft. And a case study of hubris on steroids.

About that bit from 1 Kings.

Elijah had been having a really bad day. He was ready to chuck the prophet thing and die. God rejected his resignation, gave Elijah a to-do list that included eating something and getting a decent night’s rest. When the dust settled it was Jezebel 0, God 1.

Moving on.

I’ve been feeling frustrated, but not surprised.

“A Catholic Citizen in America” isn’t anywhere near having as much traffic as — [insert this week’s hit parade here].

I didn’t and don’t expect that.

Options

March 15, 1915: Billy Sunday giving another rip-roaring performance.Maybe I’d get more attention, if I stalwartly denounced horrible heathens.

Or exposed fearsome fascists.

Maybe screed aimed at conservatives, liberals, conservationists, developers or someone else would attract attention. Since I’m a Catholic, and a Christian, I could even play my culture’s ‘revival’ card, spewing fire and brimstone.

None of that seems reasonable.

For starters, my culture’s fire and brimstone brigade started me on a quest for something that made sense. Which their weird take on Christianity didn’t.

I eventually became a Catholic, and that’s another topic. Or maybe not so much.

Folks who are Catholic have access to millennia of accumulated wisdom.

So do folks who aren’t Catholics, for that matter.

Sharing what we have with anyone who’s willing to listen is part of our job. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 4, 849–865)

Table-turning at a séance. (France, 19th century)I’ve run into a few Catholics who seem dedicated to America’s endemic fire and brimstone mode de foi.

That’s French for “mode of faith.”

Maybe perceiving anything French as automatically sophisticated or “cultural” finally joined corsets and frock coats in history’s dumpster, and that’s yet another topic.

Then again, I suspect that alternatively-accurate perceptions stem partly from emotions and emotional associations.

And that, finally, brings me back to —

“…Feelings, wo-o-o feelings,
Wo-o-o, feel you again in my arms….”
(“Feelings,” Morris Albert AKA Maurício Alberto Kaisermann (1974))

Feelings, Faith and Thinking

Experiencing emotions is part of being human, or should be.

Folks who have a hard time recognizing or expressing emotions also have a hard time getting along:

And that’s yet again another topic.

Again, emotions are okay. Experiencing emotions is okay.

Emotions come with being human. They connect “the life of the senses and the life of the mind.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1763–1766)

By themselves, emotions aren’t good or bad. They just happen. (Catechism, 1767)

Feeling an emotion can tell me that something needs attention. Feeling angry, for example, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. What I decide to do about feeling angry, or frustrated, or elated or whatever — that’s what can be good or bad. (Catechism, 1765, 1767–1769)

Ideally, my feelings and my reason would be working together. In any case, I’m expected to think. (Catechism, 1777–1782)

I’m a very emotional man. Feeling angry comes easily. So does feeling discouraged. Feeling elated or jubilant, that’s not so easy.

Decades of undiagnosed depression, along with an impressive list of other psychiatric and neurological glitches, don’t help. On the ‘up’ side, prescribed medications now let me use my brain without fighting the machinery.

One of those meds is a controlled substance. Paperwork problems resulted in my experiencing withdrawal. Several times. I’d rather not repeat those experiences.

But now I have a better understanding of what withdrawal feels like. That helps me understand what others with similar experiences endure. And I work with another pharmacy.

But getting back to feelings and faith. Because I’m a Catholic, rational thought isn’t an option. It’s a requirement.

I Live, Surrounded by Beauty and Wonders

I’m Catholic, so for me faith means willingly and consciously embracing “the whole truth that God has revealed.” (Catechism, 142–150)

That’s the whole truth. Including what we find in the natural world’s order and beauty. Appreciating the wonders surrounding us is a good idea. (Catechism, 32, 41, 74, 283, 341, 2500)

Faith isn’t reason: but it’s reasonable, and certainly not against an honest search for truth. (Catechism, 31–35, 159; “Fides et Ratio;” “Gaudium et Spes,” 36)

It’s faith and reason, science and religion. (Catechism, 159, 2293)

I say that a lot.

And it’s not a new idea.

“…God, the Creator and Ruler of all things, is also the Author of the Scriptures – and that therefore nothing can be proved either by physical science or archaeology which can really contradict the Scriptures. … Even if the difficulty is after all not cleared up and the discrepancy seems to remain, the contest must not be abandoned; truth cannot contradict truth….”
(“Providentissimus Deus,” Pope Leo XIII (November 18, 1893) [emphasis mine])

“Question the beauty of the earth, question the beauty of the sea, question the beauty of the air…. They all answer you, ‘Here we are, look; we’re beautiful.’…
“…So in this way they arrived at a knowledge of the god who made things, through the things which he made.”
(Sermon 241, St. Augustine of Hippo (ca. 411))

Valuing Truth, Enjoying Imagination

I’m running out of “today,” so wrapping up this journal entry is a good idea.

Let’s see.

I said I’ve been feeling frustrated, talked about getting attention by acting crazy, then discussed faith, feelings and using my brain.

And admitted that I’ve got enough psychiatric glitches to qualify as “crazy.” Which is still another topic.

Getting attention by acting like a crackpot is an option, but not a viable one.

Not for me, since I preferred truth before becomming a Catholic: and now now that preference is an obligation. An agreeable one one, but an obligation nonetheless.

But my obligation to be truthful doesn’t keep me from sharing what I hope are entertaining notions. Like my Unified Conspiracy Theory: UCT. (May 23, 2020)

Clarifying what I clarified last year, I do not think that Memorial Day is part of a psychic attack on humanity, waged by Illuminati New World Order Space Aliens. (I.N.W.O.S.A.)

And I once again assert that I.N.W.O.S.A. doesn’t operate out of a secret underground base beneath Denver International Airport.

It might make a good story, though.

I’ve talked about some of this before. Most of it, actually:

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On This Date in Some Year, Not Much Happened

Posted on February 3, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

That’s not true, actually. A quick check told me that stuff happened on February 3rd:

  • 1488: Bartolomeu Dias landed in Mossel Bay
  • 1690: Colony of Massachusetts issued paper money, first in the Americas
  • 1793: Enlightened French leaders removed insufficiently liberated citizens
  • 1916: Seven people were killed when Canada’s parliamentary Centre Block burned
    • Rumors said it was Germany’s fault
    • Others said that someone left a lit cigar in the wrong place
  • 1918: San Francisco’s Twin Peaks Tunnel opened

Problem is — ‘February 3rd’ items I found would either take too long to research, be too potentially provocative, or both.

Research legwork, the virtual sort, isn’t a problem. Neither are provocative topics.

But, since I prefer making sense to other options, legwork and making (reasonable) waves take more time and effort than I’ve got. Time, particularly.

Wait a minute. Can I “have” effort? Never mind.

Today’s Wednesday, which is when I get an hour at the local Adoration chapel. And that hour neatly splits my afternoon into two sub-optimal intervals for writing.

So I’ve picked a topic that deserves days of time and effort. And I plan to spend the next hour slapping out something I can review, revise and post today.

Saint Faustina Kowalska’s Divine Mercy Devotion

Eugeniusz Kazimirowski's 'Divine Mercy.' (1934)Normally, I’d start by talking about Saints. They’re folks who earned reputations for heroic virtue. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 828)

Sainthood’s fast track is deciding that being killed for taking Jesus seriously makes more sense than going along with someone’s preferred reality.

Over the last couple millennia, a fair number of folks took that option.

But many Saints weren’t executed.

Some lived long and generally healthy lives.

Some, like St. Faustina Kowalska, got sick and died young. But that’s not why they’re Saints, and that’s another topic.

I’ve talked about this before.

Folks who enjoy taking time with a name and title say “Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska of the Blessed Sacrament” when they’re talking about St. Faustina.

That’s proper and correct. But I’ll be calling her “St. Faustina” in this entry. Mostly.

Anyway, St. Faustina was a Polish nun in the early 20th century. Back then she was Faustina Kowalska. She wasn’t vetted for Sainthood until later.

She said that she was having conversations with our Lord. Nothing unusual there. Lots of folks say they’re on a first-name basis with Jesus, Napoleon or some other bigwig.

Due Diligence and a Polish Nun

What’s different about Faustina Kowalska was that an assortment of clergy in her part of the world went through our routine for dealing with such claims.

And they decided that she might be making factually-accurate reports. Which is one reason we’ve got her diary. And that’s yet another topic, for another time.

Long story short, Faustina Kowalska kept making sense. A priest had her tell an artist how to present visual information she’d received, and that’s how we got the Divine Mercy picture I put up there.

There’s nothing ‘magical’ about the Divine Mercy picture. It won’t cure warts, help you sell your house or give you whiter teeth.

It is, however, a good visual aid for folks doing the Divine Mercy chaplet. Like me.

Saying the Divine Mercy chaplet isn’t magic, either. No prayer is magic.

Prayer: Always Possible, Not Always Easy and Always a Good Idea

If I don’t pray, I can’t act as if I take what God says seriously. (Catechism, 2098)

I also can’t make stuff happen by going through the motions. (Catechism, 2111)

Again, prayer isn’t magic. Trying to make someone on the ‘other side’ do something is a very bad idea. (Catechism, 2115-2117)

Prayer is — a library could be filled with books about that.

Basically, prayer is getting together with God. It’s always possible. (Catechism, 2559, 2564, 2567, 2743)

Again, prayer is always possible. I didn’t say it was easy. We’re not told that it is, and I’ve noticed that it’s often anything but easy. It’s a good idea, anyway.

Now it’s nearly time for my ‘Adoration chapel hour.’ I’ll very likely be doing the Divine Mercy chaplet twice during my hour in the Adoration chapel. Not because I’m particularly pious. And that’s yet again another topic.

Like I said, I’ve talked about this sort of thing before:

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Groundhog Day, and Me in Three Words

Posted on February 2, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

It’s February 2nd, Groundhog day. It’s a North American tradition, one of Punxsutawney’s local events and — at least in my country — national news.

Punxsutawney Phil didn’t see his shadow this year.

North American folklore says that this means we’re in for six more weeks of winter. Which, here in central Minnesota, is likely enough: cloudy day in Punxsutawney or not.

Groundhog Day’s folklore is, or was, superstition.

I see it as an opportunity for Punxsutawney’s VIPs to wear top hats, and a pleasant mid-winter break from shoveling and heating bills.

However, there’s no getting around it. Groundhog Day has roots in Pennsylvania Dutch superstitions. Or folklore. Depends on viewpoint, maybe.

Hoo boy. Groundhog Day’s roots could be trouble.

Being superstitious is one of the things we’re told is a bad idea. It’s religious feeling gone wrong. Really wrong. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2111)

If I was superstitious about, say, the Divine Mercy Chaplet, I’d think that the words and what I do with the prayer beads had magical effects.

They don’t. Which reminds me: I want to talk about the Divine Mercy chaplet again some time. But not to day.

If I burned berries before a picture of Punxsutawney Phil to lower the household heating bills: my wife would complain. And I’d be well-advised to rethink my attitude toward groundhogs. Which, I see, are the critters I call woodchucks.1

A Pennsylvanian groundhog’s presumed prognostications might lead me down the primrose path to perdition. If I took today’s cloudy weather as a Sign to the Faithful.

Which I don’t. And that’s another topic. Topics.

Adoption: Simply Fill Out These Forms, and These, And – – –


(Another overcast day here in Sauk Centre, Minnesota. (February 2, 2021; 1:25 p.m.))

I talked, briefly, about family and children yesterday. (February 1, 2021)

Recapping, in part: our number-two daughter and son-in-law adopted their daughter. Which is okay. (Catechism, 2379)

The hoops they had to jump through in the adoption process warrant more attention than I’m willing to give today.

The good news, part of it, is that they finally had all the forms filled out. And could spend two months as residents in another state.

My son-in-law, happily, is the sort of entrepreneur who can take a two-month vacation and still have a ‘job’ when he gets back. Not everyone can do that.

I’m pretty sure that many couples who aren’t like our granddaughter’s adoptive parents would also make good mothers and fathers. But we’re not likely to find out, as long as American adoption regulations stay the way they are.

If you’re bracing for a rant, relax. My father and I have, between us, lived through eras that inspired today’s bureaucratic tangle.

Our laws and regulations were, I think, innocuous.

I think the folks who set up the system meant well.

How it actually works could use improvement. Much improvement.

Describing Me in Three Words: and a Three-Week Anniversary


(Me, Saturday before last. I do not usually wear a mask at my desk. (January 23, 2021))

Before I forget — this is my 21st consecutive daily ‘journal’ entry. But, important as this milestone is to me, I don’t expect to see it in national news. And that’s yet another topic.

Now, getting back to the adoption process.

One of the many forms and reports that number-two daughter and son-in-law filled out included instructions to describe, in three words, the prospective adopters’ parents.

Which, I think, makes sense. Or should. In any case, I’m impressed, relieved and pleased that number-two daughter’s three-word description of me didn’t cause trouble.

She, quite accurately, said that I was:

  • Eccentric
  • Scholarly
  • Eclectic

We’re not entirely sure about the second word, “scholarly.” Their copy of the actual report is on a disk drive that is on my son’s to-do list of things to fix. It’s a long list.

But she said I was scholarly or academic, or something like that. And I think she’s right.

She’s right about eccentric and eclectic, too.

Which should be obvious, from the stuff I write:

1 More than pretty much anyone really needs to know about:

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A Family Visit is Still in Progress: Kids and Adoption

Posted on February 1, 2021 by Brian H. Gill

Yesterday’s visit continues. Granddaughter and I have enjoyed watching cartoons. I’m looking forward to reading her a book from my childhood, plus another from my father’s and mine.

Our granddaughter’s parents are her ‘real’ parents in practical terms.

And they adopted her. Which, this family being the way we are, means that our granddaughter has more than the conventional two sets of grandparents.

I don’t mind, partly because I don’t see family relationships as a zero-sum thing.

When we had our second child, I didn’t assume that number-one and number-two daughter would each have half a father.

At any rate, I didn’t fear for our third child, who would — if I made zero-sum assumptions, which I didn’t — suffer from being stuck with a mere third of a father.

The point I’m trying to make is that zero-sum assumptions don’t apply to family relationships. Resource allocation? Sometimes but not always.

But our kids didn’t have a fractionalized father. “Fractionalized???” Never mind.

Then our number three child died, early in the pregnancy. That was not a happy experience. Neither was the death of our sixth child. (October 9, 2016 )

On the ‘up’ side, we have been and are blessed with four surviving children.

And one grandchild.

A Brief, Succinct, Terse and Very Short Look at Family and Children

Streaming together for ThanksgivingIt’s been a while since I talked about what the Church says about family and children.

Books could be and have been written on the subject. But I’m squeezing writing this post into the second and last day of a family visit.

So, briefly: marriage and having kids is a good thing. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2366-2379)

Not getting married is a good thing.

I’ve touched on vocations before. (January 28, 2021; August 14, 2016)

Sometimes folks who are married can’t, physically, have kids. It’s not the only reason that adopting children is a good idea, but it’s one of them. (Catechism, 2379)

There’s a lot more to say about all of the above.

But I’m running out of ‘today.’

So, briefly: I have enjoyed talks with number-two daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter. My granddaughter and I enjoyed reading her great-grandfather’s childhood special book.

And I’ll add links to posts I referred to while writing this:

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