Terri Shiavo, RIP

Nope, not going to argue the case. It's over now, at least for Terri; and it's all too, too sad anyway.

So why blog? Because we all should have learned something here. And the lesson is:
PUT IT IN WRITING!

If you do not have a living will/physician's directive/medical power of attorney/whatever, do it now. You can go on the internet and find forms that correspond to your state's specific laws. And find a form that lets you be specific. Don't just say that you don't want "extraordinary measures" taken. Ask three people to define "extraordinary measures," and you'll get at least four definitions. One doctor might not consider it extraordinary to have you on a ventilator for a year. Another might consider water extraordinary if you can't swallow it yourself.

"But I'm young!" you say.
Terri was 26 when she collapsed. I don't care if you're 18-and-a-day. You could be in a car wreck tomorrow.

"But I trust my spouse/parent/significant other to make the right decision."
Yeah, but how do you know the hospital and/or doctors will, if you don't have it in writing? How do you know that Congress, which of course has nothing else to do, won't try to intervene? What if your spouse/parent/significant other isn't there? What if they're too emotionally devastated to think about it? What if they're in the same wreck?

Put it in writing. Do it now. Don't put your family through what Terri's parents & husband have been through for the last 15 years.

Nobody deserves that.

Stupid Catholic Tricks, March '05 Edition

Friends & neighbors, children of all ages -- only the 22nd of the month, and already we have TWO contenders!

In this corner . . .
Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone. Who, two years after its release, has suddenly decided to "warn" us against Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code."

His Eminence's objections? The book "aims to discredit the Church and its history through gross and absurd manipulations." And, "I think I have the responsibility to clear things up to unmask the cheap lies."

Manipulations? Lies? It's a NOVEL, fer-cryin'-out-loud!!!!
Repeat after me, Bertie: Novels are fiction. Fiction, by definition, is MADE UP!!!!!!!!!!! (You understand 'made up,' Bertie; that's like the hierarchy's early statements on the pedophilia scandal.) If it were all true, IT WOULDN'T BE A NOVEL!!!

But, wait, folks, it gets worse!
Cardinal Bertone is widely touted as being among the papabile, the potential successors to the papacy.

Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!

---

And in this corner. . .
(thanks to Third Base Line for this nomination)
Bishop Robert Brom, of San Diego. Bishop Brom refused a Catholic funeral Mass to John McCusker, who died at the horribly young age of 31 from congestive heart failure. Mr. McCusker's funeral services were held at an Episcopal church.

And the crime for which he was denied the Mass?

He owned a bar and dance club popular with gays. (He was gay himself, but the His Excellency's stated reason for cancelling the funeral service was "the clash between McCusker's business activities and the church's moral teachings).

Now, mind you, John Geoghan received a full funeral Mass. John Geoghan, who dishonored the word "human," who disgraced the priesthood, who committed assault & battery upon the Church that supported him most of his life, who attempted to destroy numerous young lives -- John Geoghan, pedophile 'priest,' had a funeral Mass.

John McCusker, small business owner, did not.

Kyrie Eleison.

Important Award Announcement

Even though it's early in the year, it seems painfully obvious that there will be an abundance of entries for the "Stupid Catholic Tricks" section of this blog. Embodying the philosophy "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade!" Fourth Pew, Center proudly announces the creation of:
(drum roll, please)

the Annual Bernard Cardinal Law Award!

The winner will be chosen each year from persons and events blogged in "Stupid Catholic Tricks." To qualify, one must perform acts of extraordinary dishonor to the Roman Catholic Church. Extra points are awarded for doing so in Latin.

The award itself will be a small New Testament with all the inconvenient passages -- such as "Judge not," "The greatest of these is love," and so forth -- deleted.
Accompanying this will be a small, cheaply printed card, commemorating the qualifying event.

Voting will take place in early January. Nominations are encouraged throughout the year. There will be no provisional ballots, exit polls, or legal wrangling. Ballot-box stuffing is encouraged. Decision of the judge (me) is final.

Little Jessica

Little Jessica Lunsford is dead.
We suspected, as time went on, but now we know.
Little Jessica, of the painted-on Halloween face, of the mega-watt smile.
Little Jessica, whose disappearance froze the heart of every parent who watches the news.

And do you know why she is dead?

Because we still do not fully grasp the fact that sex offenders do not rehabilitate.

If that man had been locked up for life, as he should have been, Jessica would be alive.
Her family's hearts would not be broken.
And yesterday would have been a better day.

Does It Get Any Better Than This?

Early March . . .
south Florida . . .
sunshine . . .
light breezes . . .
vacation with your daughter . . .

Does it get any better?

Well, yes, actually, it does.

All the above, plus --
Minnesota Twins SPRING TRAINING!!!!!

Spring training, when:

· The Boys are back at it, and the AA and AAA prospects get a chance to show their stuff right along side them.
· Baseball is played as it was meant to be played: in the afternoon, under the open sky, on real grass.
· You can get both of the autographs you most wanted within 5 minutes of each other just because your seats are in the fourth row from the field.
· (And seats in the fourth row from the field don’t cost the GNP of a medium-sized nation.)
· An attendance figure of 7000 is a darn good turnout.
· The crowd, largely made up of escapees from the Arctic Tundra, applaud the announcement of the game-time temperature (which is always in the 70's).
· Faxes are not piling up in front of you, clients are not complaining that they only get what they pay for, bills are stacking up 4 states away. All that matters is that distinctive crack of the bat, the beautiful arc of a ball perfectly thrown in from the outfield, the seventh-inning stretch . . .
The Game.

Nope, doesn’t get any better.


“The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again . . .”

P.S.
Dear Bart,
We miss you.
signed,
Baseball