Is Pope Francis the Church's rock, or her millstone?

We were at Mass on Sunday, watching the Communion line come to its end, as mothers brought their small babies with them to the altar.  As is often the case, my wife turned to me and whispered about one particularly small one, "Look at that clueless face."

"Well," I replied, "I can't think of a better place for someone without a clue to be than in a Catholic Church."

That might sound like a harsh assessment, I know.  I'm tempted to think that it's OK for me to say it since I'm a practicing Catholic, but I'm not even sure I'd object if a non-Catholic mentioned it.

The Church is, to put it mildly, in a mess.  And a good deal of it has to do with the man in the white suit in the Vatican, or at least the guest house.

The Bishop of Rome, as he prefers to style himself, has been at it again, with more of his confusing statements that can leave the faithful every bit as clueless as that two-week old baby.  It's getting to the point where, even after reciting the Creed, I'm not quite sure what I believe in.  Or, rather, I'm uncertain as to what the Church believes in.

Sure, this is partially frustration talking*.  I don't think I've made it a secret that I'm not what you'd consider a fan of the current pope.  (Although if you're not sure, you can check here, here, and here for starters - oh, and let's throw this in as well.)  And if you've checked those links out (and if you haven't, go ahead - I'll wait), you'll be thinking, with some reason, that I'm not really saying anything new here.

*Though I'd like to at least be given credit for expressing said frustration with a humor and eloquence that's rare in the blogosphere.

The state of the Catholic Church today can be profoundly depressing, if you allow it to become so.  There are a lot of Catholics who are angry at a lot of people, especially including other Catholics.  It's true that Christ Himself said that He came to sow division, but even so it's hard to imagine a figure who's been more divisive than the current pope.  He's won worldwide acclaim, true, especially from non-Catholics, while at the same time turning many Catholics who once were friends into, if not bitter enemies, at least adversaries each questioning the other's good faith.  Every day he seems to say or do something that threatens to turn traditional Catholic thinking on its ear, and nobody can be quite sure whether he meant to do it, or that his words are being manipulated by the media.  In one of those articles I linked to above, I described the current pope as either "Machiavellian in his cleverness, Christ-like in his gentleness, or Ted Baxter-ish in his cluelessness."  I'm still not sure which it is, if in fact it's not all three.

There is, however, this growing feeling that you can't rely on the Church - at least the part of it here on earth, headed up by men - to instruct you in what it is you should know.  A case in point was that Mass I alluded to at the start of this article.  It was a perfectly orthodox Mass, done by the rubrics, but then there was this homily by the deacon.  To the extent that it was full of factual error, it can only be said that the man had to have been the product of a Catholic school education.  The topic was that day's twin canonizations of John XXIII and John Paul II.  The deacon started off by talking of how he had always liked John because John had been the pope to abolish Latin in the Mass, and that meant that the deacon, then a young altar boy, wouldn't have to deal with it.  John didn't do any such thing, of course - in point of fact, John composed a little piece called Veterum Sapientia, which among other things "stressed the importance of Latin" in the Church, including the Mass.  Latin never has been "abolished" in the Mass; the Vatican II document Sacrosanctum Concilium, which permitted use of the vernacular even while encouraging the importance of Latin in the Mass, wasn't even adopted until after John's death.

From there, the deacon went on to discuss John Paul II, for whom he also had a good deal of affection, although he mentioned that JPII had often been coupled with John XXIII; John had promulgated Vatican II, while John Paul had sought to end it.  Aside from the amusement this must have generated among traditionalist Catholics who accuse John Paul of everything from kissing the Koran to going soft on dissident Catholics, it's a disservice to a man who saw himself as being perhaps the first pope to truly implement Vatican II in the manner in which it had been intended.  Again, this is not to come down harshly on the deacon, for the perception he gave of John Paul was that which is found in the popular lexicon.  He didn't intend to maliciously slander the truth; I genuinely believe he didn't know better, because he'd never been taught otherwise.

I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that the last few generations of Catholics have been among the most ignorant when it comes to what the Church actually teaches.  In that sense we're our own worst enemies, for often those who oppose us do so because they understand our teachings better than we do; they fear them, or disagree with them, but at least they know what they are.  If only they were aware that the Church today is nothing but a giant pussycat, a soft touch for those seeking to "modernize" her teachings.

What does the Church teach?  It's not as if there aren't resources out there that lay things out in a pretty clear manner.  But to so many, including - increasingly - the current pope, they don't seem to matter so much.  As someone said, "if you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything," and that's what we face today.

I said in one of those earlier pieces that I wasn't sure I'd convert to the Church today, not because I disbelieved what it taught but because it didn't teach anything to which the wise might repair.  Rather than having Peter the Rock as the foundation of the Church, we now have something (or someone) more akin to quicksand.  And yes, it can be discouraging.  But rather than despair or hopelessness, the prevalent emotion I have is anger - outrage and indignation that, to paraphrase Benjamin Franklin, such a precious gift - in this case the Deposit of Faith - can be treated with such disdain and carelessness.  Even if the pope plans no dogmatic changes, the confusion he creates in his wake serves more to undermine the Church's authority from within than most anything that could be done by one of her true enemies from without.

It's an effort for me to write about this pope without delving into acts of uncharity, which is why I don't do it very often (although perhaps more often than I should), and why I try to stay logical in my reasoning.  I have said before that I do not hate this pope, which is true, but I don't like him either.  I pray for him, but freely admit that I don't pray hard enough or often enough, so perhaps I should take my share of blame when he makes another of his forehead-slapping comments.

The Bishop of Rome has done many things in the year-plus since his election, but he's not shaken my faith in my faith, in the Church, in the papacy.  Just in the pope.  But there are many people out there who are as concerned as I am, and many who are worried and scared.  There are many uncertain in their faith, and many others who have no faith, and perhaps will not be introduced to it because of the lack of definition present in Rome's teachings.  Ross Douthat, the New York Times house Catholic, remains confident that the pope will not introduce any radical change, but understands the fear that many have, and acknowledges that if such a change is made, the result is likely a schism within the Church.  It will be then, if that time comes, that everyone will have to choose sides.  My intention is to remain with the Church - whichever side that happens to be. ◙

It's not what Sterling said, but what it says about us

Let's start with this, from Bernard Goldberg yesterday.

But now that [L.A. Clippers owner Donald Sterling's] gone, I’m wondering who else among us has said things in the privacy of our homes that would get us in trouble if somebody recorded them and made our remarks public.

Rest assured, I’ve never ever said anything that might even vaguely be construed as politically incorrect.  But I’ll bet you have.

And I’ll bet a lot of players in the NBA have.

I’ll bet a lot of politicians have, too.

I’ll bet white people have and black people have and Latino people have and straight people have and gay people have.

So what lesson should we take of the public flogging of Donald Sterling, as deserved as it was?

How about this:  If anyone – an accountant, a garbage man, an MSNBC host, a college professor, an attorney general, a president, a truck driver … anyone! … says something racist in the privacy of his or her home, and if it somehow becomes public information, that person should lose his or her job and his or her livelihood – because racist words cannot be tolerated in America, not in 2014.

Exactly.  I'm no friend of Sterling; he's been one of the worst owners in sports for a good long time, and the recent success of the Clippers seems more in spite of rather than because of him.

But just where do we draw the line?  Is everything that everyone says, public or private, now subject to review?  And by whom?  And why stop at the spoken word - after all, the First Amendment absolutists assure us that burning the flag is an act of free speech, so shouldn't other acts be liable for our distain as well? Goldberg goes on:

I am confused, however, about why there is no universal condemnation of athletes who father children in every city in the league.  Or of athletes who beat up their girlfriends.  Or of athletes who drive drunk and kill people.  I guess none of those things warrant the moral outrage that bigoted words uttered by a foolish old man in private warrant.

But let me be clear:  I’m outraged over what Donald Sterling said.  Really, really outraged.  I say this because if anyone thinks I’m less than really, really outraged because of anything I’ve written here, I might get in really, really big trouble.

Let's suppose, for example, that I'm outraged by an owner who "had discriminated against Hispanics, blacks, and families without children in housing."  He said, among other things, that "black tenants smell and attract vermin.”  Mind you, he didn't stop with saying things; he acted on them as well.  Well, that owner would be none other than Donald Sterling - back in 2009.  Why suspend him now?  As Ben Shapiro notes in that article, "words speak louder than actions."

What about an owner who was recently spotted at a game wearing a "necklace medallion for the Five Percent Nation, which sees black men as gods and white people as devils."  And who freely uses the "N-word" for fun and profit?   Try Jay-Z, sports agent and former part-owner of the Brooklyn Nets.

And then there was at least one owner who publicly supported the right to abortion, including the grizzly partial-birth procedure, and even voted against requiring that a woman view an ultrasound before having an abortion?  That's former U.S. Senator Herb Kohl, who supported those issues while he was also owner of the Milwaukee Bucks.  I know abortion is a polarizing issue, but that stand sure as hell offended me.  It's one thing to talk down to your fellow man, to dehumanize him with insult and discrimination - but is it worse than killing him?

But why limit the discussion to sports?  If you're looking for people who know how to denigrate through their speech, we could cite virtually the entire on-air staff of MSNBC, some of whom have in fact lost their jobs over their comments, while others - cough-cough-Al Sharpton-cough - continue to thrive.  And I won't even get into that whole kerfuffle about Brendan Eich - I can only expect my blood pressure medication to do so much, after all.

The line between public and private, already blurred beyond recognition, is pretty much gone at this point.  In order to be really safe, to make sure that nothing you say can ever come back to haunt you, the best thing is probably to say nothing.  At all.  Ever.  Even in the bathroom.  Just keep your mouth shut.  As Rod Dreher points out when talking about the latest - whether or not the DeVos family, owners of the Orlando Magic, should be in trouble for funding ads in marriage referendum states - "Error has no rights."

I'll close this mild screed with a quote from Ben Stein, who after saying that "I hate, hate, hate racism," adds this:

But I also love individual liberty. I would much rather have a system where people are free to hate me because of my race as long as they don’t lynch me than one in which the government or the media tell me who I can and cannot hate. I loathe Donald Sterling for his comments and I do not want him near me. But I am terrified that a man can have such a level of media rage directed at him even though he violated no law. He expressed a hateful opinion and that’s a bad thing. But in a world where there are as many horrible things going on as in our world, the private conversations of one drunken old man would not seem to me to be worth this level of fury. Isn’t this “Thoughtcrime”? Does it scare you? It scares me. And I am really terrified that “anti-racism,” like “saving the earth” and “income inequality struggles,” will legitimate any level of anger. Isn’t there such thing as “the law”? Aren’t we supposed to be more worried about violence than private nutty conversations?

I can sum this up easily: Isn’t Mr. Sterling being punished for his privately expressed thoughts and not for any action? Isn’t this deeply unsettling? When did privately expressed thoughts become fair game for punishment? Where does it end? In “1984.” 

That's it.  What the Donald Sterling fiasco provides us is not a glimpse into him, but into ourselves, and an America that with every passing day seems to stand for nothing at all.  Donald Sterling has served his purpose - he's given us the opportunity for our Two Minutes Hate, and now we're ready to move on, feeling just great about ourselves.

Until we find the next person to hate, and a spare couple of minutes.  ◙

Adeus Ayrton - Twenty Years Later

NOTE: The videos shown here and in the links contain images which some readers may find disturbing.

In the annals of Italian motorsport, there have been numerous serious or fatal crashes at top-level meets in top-level international motorsport meet involving world-class stars.

The legendary Monza speedplant was sadly home to many, most notably in 1928 as over twenty (it is unknown if it was 20 or 27) spectators were killed when a car lept into the grandstands at the five-year old circuit during the traditional race meet. Three star drivers were killed in the same race meet in the south banking (runs parallel to the Parabolica) in the September 1933 race meet there. In 1961, the run from Vialone to Parabolica at Monza led to a crash between Jim Clark and Wolfgang von Trips that led to the death of the Count and 15 spectators dying (it also led to von Trips' teammate, the new F1 world champion Phil Hill, skipping his home race, F1's first run at Watkins Glen).


In 1973, officials refused to clean up the track (no kitty litter used as you'd see) following an oil spill late in the 350cc class at the Nations Grand Prix, leading to two stars of international motorcycle racing, Jarno Saarinen and Renzo Pasolini, dying when they ran past that oil slick at Curva Grande on Lap 2 of the 250cc class race (motorcycles did not use the chicanes just installed for F1; that was changed by 1976). In 1978, Ronnie Petersen was killed in a crash at the start of the Formula One meet. And in 2000, a corner worker was killed by debris during a crash at Della Roggia.

This was just Monza. The terror of motorsport and stars also struck other notable circuits.

At Misano World Circuit Marco Simoncelli (renamed for the Italian rider who was killed at the MotoGP 2011 Shell Advance Grand Prix in Sepang; the Ferrari F1 team lays flowers in Turn 11 at Sepang where he died), reigning MotoGP world champion Wayne Rainey was paralysed when he crashed when he crashed his motorcycle in Misano corner, then the first corner (the circuit was reversed in 2007) during the Italian MotoGP round in September 1993. The first race winner in history of the modern 600cc formula of Moto2 was killed that season when a three-bike crash occurred, and officials did not follow the proper way to treat severely injured riders, which usually is to stop the race. (NOTE: Under current FIM nomenclature, MotoGP, Moto2, and Moto3 refer also to the former 500cc, 250cc, and 125cc classes when they were two-stroke motorcycles; under modern 4-stroke classes they are 1,000cc, 600cc, and 250cc. There were also 80cc and 350cc classes in the past, but are no longer used.)

But of all terrifying tragedies in Italian motorsport, we come Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday to the place that sadly, 20 years to the day, we mark a trio of horrific incidents in Formula One, and that is at the Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari in Imola.

On April 29, during the first of two 60-minute sessions, Rubens Barrichello's SASOL Jordan was launched by high kerbing in the Bassa chicane into the tyre barrier, and was concussed, done for the day.
But on Saturday, the second qualifying session, Roland Ratzenberger's MTV Simtek (a first-year team) running desperately to avoid being the only car to not make the field following Barrichello's medical disqualification, damaged a wing at Acque Minerale, the chicane that precedes the right-hander that leads to a straight cut by Variante Alta (the high chicane), into the double Rivazza corners. The front wing eventually failed at Villeneuve (a kink before Tosa) and led to a massive crash where Ratzenberger would die of a basal skull fracture (a symptom where Atlanta-based sportscar driver Jim Downing was developing what is now a mandatory piece of safety equipment in most motorsport today).

And Sunday would turn out to be troublesome. After a crash at the start, the race went under caution for a few laps before Ayrton Senna pulled ahead of Michael Schumacher on the restart. At 2:17 PM CET (8:17 AM ET), suspension failure on the Williams erupted, and the car headed straight-on into Tamburello, resulting in the crash that killed undoubtedly one of motorsport's greatest superstars.


Thursday morning at 8:17 AM EDT (2:17 AM CET), we pause to remember twenty years to the tragic death of a motorsport legend. And sometimes you wonder after further documentaries on other contemporary racers of the era why Ayrton Senna da Silva was such a superb driver, but reckless.

“He was a great racer, and it was a shame to see him go like the way he did.”

Yes, Dale, it was a shame in an era when many contemporary racing drivers of his era hung up the helmet and have been able to have successful lives outside of motorsport. Today's successful drivers can hang up the helmet and make five-figure salaries on the speaking circuit today. Contemporary racers who have hung up the helmet have become authors, and can easily make thousands per speech on the speaking circuit, in addition to successful business ventures. Drivers often reunite at old racers' reunions with vintage cars often, some even collecting their own cars.

But we imagine. What if Ayrton Senna had lived? Would he be on the speaking circuit and part of vintage F1 car reunions? Would he have been influential in more parts of industry?

We shall never know. It's been twenty years.

Adeus Ayrton. ◙

Retro TV Monday - this week in TV Guide, April 23, 1966

A mostly interesting "compilation of opinions about Andy Williams" is Dwight Whitney's cover story, which leads off this week's clip-filled TV Guide review.

I'm usually suspicious of articles like this, which consist of no original writing whatsoever, just a collection of quotes that could have been dug up (and probably was) by a research assistant.  However, it's a refreshing change from the celebrity hit pieces we read so often in this era of TV Guide, filled with snarky quotes from anonymous sources.  This one reads more like an authorized biography, as we get quotes from friends, family, and past and present co-workers, telling the story of Andy's rise to his current celebrity.  There's the odd sour quote, but the image that comes through is of a pretty good guy, one who's certainly ambitious and wants to succeed, but doesn't seem inclined to run over people in order to get there.

The most interesting thing to come from the story is how difficult it was for TV people to figure out what to do with Williams.  Is he an urbane sophisticate, dating back to the time when he and his brothers performed with singer Kay Thompson?*  Or is he the farm boy from Iowa, the kid in a tuxedo on a tractor, as he once put it?  Is he hip, simple, down-home, what?

*Fun fact: Although she had a successful singing career and was a mentor to Andy, she's best-known today as the author of the Eloise kids' stories, supposedly based on her goddaughter, Lisa Minelli.

The producer of his first television special, Bud Yorkin, puts it best when he says that "all he has to do is be himself."  He can control the audience now, Yorkin says, because "At last he is in charge."  And you know what?  Simply being Andy Williams led to a pretty good career for Andy Williams, didn't it?

Read the rest here. ◙

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide, April 12, 1969

What's with the talk about the Academy Awards in this week's issue, you're probably thinking. Wasn't that last month?  Why are you bringing it up now, in the middle of April?

Well, that's the way it used to be, back in the days when the only significant movie awards show besides the Oscars was the Golden Globes, and those were confined to an hour-long broadcast on the Andy Williams Show.  Back then, the Oscarcast was held in early April or late March, usually on a Monday night, and it was the only awards show for most people.  Now, it's just one of many.

TV Guide's take on the Oscars concerns the revamping of the show, under the direction of famed Broadway choreographer Gower Champion.  Bob Hope has been banished as host, to be replaced by ten "Friends of Oscar" who will share the emcee duties.  The venue has changed, from the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles.  The dress code is relaxed, with black tie replacing white tie and tales.  He even proposed getting rid of the bleachers outside the auditorium, where the fans gather to watch the stars walk down the red carpet, but that was going too far in the eyes of many, and Champion eventually relents.

Dwight Whitney, writing the article, expresses an appropriate level of skepticism regarding Champion's plans.  After all the Academy Awards are now "an electronic monster which no one seems able to control on any level."  But, in the end, the broadcast comes off pretty well.  It's one of the longer broadcasts in recent years, checking in at what now would be considered a svelte two hours and 33 minutes, but it brings in good ratings, along with some surprise winners, and Champion is accorded a standing ovation when he arrives at the after-broadcast party.  As stagnant and dull as recent broadcasts have been, it's a pity we don't have another Gower Champion waiting somewhere in the wings.

Read the rest here.  ◙

Mickey Rooney, R.I.P.

I don't know why I've always had fond memories of Mickey Rooney. I don't remember having watched his Andy Hardy movies when I was a boy, but perhaps I did. Maybe there was something about his broad comedy style, or perhaps it was his diminutive size that appealed to me as a child. But whatever the reason, and despite the negative publicity that often surrounded him, I always liked him.

Yesterday Mickey Rooney died at the ripe old age of 93, and thanks to my friend Lisl Magboo, here are some clips of Mickey from an interview he did with the Archive of American Television.

• Here's Mickey discussing his role in one of the landmark Playhouse 90 episodes, "The Comedian."
• He also talks about the "Andy Hardy" movies.
• And here he gives advice for the aspiring actor.

End of an era.  For better or worse, they don't make larger-than-life stars like Mickey Rooney any more.  ◙

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide: April 9, 1966

We're a hard lot to please, aren't we? First we wonder when TV's going to give us new movies, and now we complain about the ones they won't let us see!  It sounds a lot more sinister (or provocative) than it really is.

For the most part, we're talking about movies that don't appear on TV because of rights problems of one kind or another, something we've gotten all too used to when it comes to the release of DVDs. The Cat and the Canary, a 1939 flick with Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard, 1947's Life With Father with William Powell, Irene Dunne and Elizabeth Taylor, and Irving Berlin's This Is the Army are among dozens of movies that have fallen victim to the inability to reach an agreement with the rights owners, usually the widows or estates of the authors.

Other movies are no-shows for various reasons: Anna and the King of Siam was kept from television so it wouldn't compete with its musical version, The King and I.  The Buccaneer, The Desert Song, and So Big are among films that the studios themselves have withheld in order to protect remakes.  And when movies are remade - Show Boat, Cimarron, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, for example - the originals are often shelved to avoid confusion, or have their names changed - the original State Fair, starring Dana Andrews and Jeanne Crain, became It Happened One Summer to differentiate it from the newer version, with Pat Boone.  Blockbusters from years past - Gone with the Wind, the Disney movies like Pinocchio, Bambi, Snow White - are re-released periodically, and as long as they continue to make money for their studios, they'll be MIA on TV.

Have no fear, though; there's confidence that many, if not all, of these movies will eventually make it to the small screen - one way or another.  For example, a note elsewhere in this issue tells us that ABC has just paid a reported $2 million for the rights to the Oscar-winning Bridge on the River Kwai.  I just checked: you can get it today at Amazon for $8.48 and watch it as often as you want.

Read the rest here.  ◙

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide: April 5, 1958

When, the cover asks, will we see new movies on television?  Back in April of 1958, could one possibly have imagined that someday you'd be able to pay to see a movie on television the same day it premiered in theaters?  Or that the quality of some home theater systems would eventually rival that of a movie house?  That there would be entire networks that would show only movies, uncut and without commercial interruption (for a fee, of course)?  Or that you didn't even need television, just a machine into which you could put a tape or a disc and watch your favorite film, any time you wanted, usually less than a year after it premiered on the big screens?  This, I think, is one of the biggest ways in which we've changed the way we think about television, as a form of entertainment.  You don't even have to read the article - the headline says it all.

I do read the article, of course - it's part of my service to you, the loyal reader.  And the consensus is: television is hurting the theaters.  As our story opens, theater bigwigs are gathered in Mike Romanoff's Beverly Hills restaurant trying to figure out how to keep "new" movies - defined as those produced since August 1, 1948 - from making it to TV.  The Sindlinger research organization estimates that movie exhibitors have lost $50,000,000 due to movies being shown on TV, and that to release the post-'48 movies would be "'suicide' for the entire movie industry."

TV Guide, of course, isn't so sure about that.  Yes, it's "probably true" that old movies on TV have had an effect.  But there's also the high price of movie tickets (which in 1961 was $0.69), the increasing number of "boisterous youngsters" turning a trip to the theater "into an unpleasant experience," and that movies just might not be as good as they used to be.  And then there's the "dilemma" for talent guilds (actors, writers, producers, etc.) - on the one hand, they'd love to get the revenues that would come from selling newer movies to TV.  At the same time, they fear the effects on their business if television really is that harmful to the industry, so much so that if the studios decide to sell newer movies to TV, the guilds could strike.  In between are the television stations themselves.  They want the new movies, yes, but they point out that with over 10,000 already available, they can afford to wait for awhile.

Who knows where it will all end?  Well, of course, we do.  As I said at the top, I wonder if they could have imagined it?

Read the rest here.  ◙

Geoff Edwards, R.I.P.

The recent death of game show host Geoff Edwards at 83 reminded me of a very interesting comment I had read.

When Mark Goodson originally pitched Family Feud in 1976, he originally wanted Edwards to host Feud, but it never panned out.  Fast forward to 1988, when CBS had made an order for the first (of two) revivals of Feud (the second revival, in 1999, is now in its 15th season with Steve Harvey hosting).  Once again, Mark Goodson had a host in mind, but it was not the host that made it to final production.

The answer:  This "Broadway" legend was originally planned by Mark Goodson to host the 1988 (CBS) revival of Family Feud, but a contract could not be signed.  ◙

Congratulations, Serena!

Those who have read Our Word over this decade will have known for years I took voice from Serena Hill, now The Mrs. Michael LaRoche, and have sung with both Michael and Serena in two choral gigs (2009, Die Jahreszeiten excerpts, 2012, Fauré's Requiem and Mozart's Misse Brevis No. 10 in C Major).

On Monday, the LaRoches announced their newest project, a baby girl, Madeline Randal LaRoche. She was born Monday at 11:48 AM, seven pounds, twelve ounces, and twenty and a half inches tall. Their graduate school said Miss LaRoche has "a head full of dark hair and an incredible sets of lungs!"

Congratulations Serena and Michael! ◙

They're at it again

The "sexual freedom" fighters of the sexual deviancy lobby believe they have it won, and are using the common leftist propaganda terms to advance their cause.  Now this disturbing piece of news came across my wires this week.

A man who claims to be a "woman" after "gender reassignment surgery" has now sued CrossFit and The CrossFit Games for $2.5 million and the right for this natural male to compete in the events held at the StubHub Center, in the women's category.

A women read this news and had this to say about the absurd lawsuit"

Would I want to go into a women's locker room with a woman who has a (male sexual organ)? No. That would be out of line. (H)e chose to change h(is) body, CrossFit is trying to be respectful. I'm sorry, my personal opinion here is if you want to make a change in your life you gotta accept the consequences. Don't blame CrossFit for your decisions.

The disturbing point about this lawsuit was following domination by the Soviet-era Press Sisters in Athletics events at the 1960 and 1964 Olympics, the IAAF imposed gender verification tests for the 1966 European Championships after concerns by national officials some East Bloc women participating in events were actually men.  This issue began as early as the 1930's, when US Olympic Committee president Avery Brundage asked for tests after suspicious performances in 1932 and 1936.  The Atlanta Olympics was the last time such tests were mandated, though the IAAF can (and has) request one if suspicion arises (and there has been in 2006). After Atlanta, there has been a push by the sexual deviancy lobby to outlaws the sex tests, which happened in time for the next IAAF European Championships.

The organisation that conducts the CrossFit Games is based in Carson, California, and the this questionable athlete is using the legal system and Attorney General Kamala Harris, whose strategy brought down voter-approved Proposition 8, to apply the state's nondiscrimination laws to force this competitor into the CrossFit Games as a woman.  If the courts treat this man the same way as the sexual deviants have favourable judges to play favourites to claim "you can't put a check on us" by overturning state constitutional amendments, we clearly have a judiciary that, in the words of the Heritage Foundation, is "playing favourites".  It would make no sense for a man to be competing in a women's competition.   ◙

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide, March 25, 1961

It's possible you might be getting just a bit tired of 1961, since we've spent most of March there. To tell the truth, regardless of my affinity for the year I'm getting a bit tired of it as well. However, you deal with what you have, and for some reason March was never one of the big months in my collection.  Therefore, we're back to '61 one more time!

Unfortunately, in many respects this week's issue looks a lot like last week's.  NBC telecasts the NIT championship from Madison Square Garden on Saturday afternoon (Providence defeats Saint Louis 62-59), Channel 11 covers the championship of the Minnesota State High School basketball tournament Saturday night, and on Palm Sunday evening Hallmark Hall of Fame presents James Daly in "Give Us Barabbas."  Armstrong Circle Theatre is on both weeks, and Paul Hartman, subject of a feature story last week, is a featured player this week in NBC's Bell Telephone Hour on Friday night.

Don't despair, though - there are certainly enough differences for us to be able to squeeze something interesting out of this week.

Read the rest here.  ◙

The prodigal and the pope

Last Friday, you may recall, I compared the current state of the Catholic Church to that of a family without a father, or at least without one taking responsibility for keeping the family together. I was reminded of this reading through the Catholic blogosphere at the various sniping going back and forth between those who praise the pope and those who criticize him, and between traditionalists at odds with the pope and traditionalists who refuse to offer public criticism. Once again, as is so often the case, you can't follow these various disagreements without also appreciating that the future of your very soul seems to be at stake if you don't agree with someone who used to be your ally but now may be your enemy.  I'm tempted to think of the Church today as a group of teen-aged girls bickering back and forth, with each insult raising the stakes until the whole thing goes nuclear.

On the other hand, maybe it's more appropriate, in light of what I wrote last week, to compare it to one of those dysfunctional family dramas that every Lifetime program seems to contain, where everyone's sitting around the table at Thanksgiving or Christmas, pretending to get along, until someone recalls a long-ago insult, and before you know it everyone's at everyone else's throats.  That is the state of the Catholic Church today, and the problem is that there's no father sitting at the head of the table who finally stands up and tells everyone to shut the hell up.

Anyway, a friend of mine suggested that I should consider the parable of the Prodigal Son, and that those of us concerned about the future of the Church should not emulate the "other" son, the one who had remained loyal to the father, but instead turn away from bitterness toward both the pope and those, who haven't always (ever?) practiced perfect Catholicism, to whom he seeks to reach out.

Unfortunately, before I got to ponder this too closely I ran across today's Bleat by one of my favorite writers, James Lileks.  Lileks, for a completely different reason, was also pondering this parable, one of the most famous in the Bible, and while he makes some very humorous points (as he is wont to do), he also, quite seriously, voices the same reservations toward that parable that I have, ones that ultimately make it impossible for me to apply it to the current situation.  It's long, but worth it.

I have to tell you: I get it. But I do not. Yes yes happiness at the return of the one who was thought DEAD, rejoicing at the return to the fold. But the other brother has a point. The pastor explained that the Other Brother did not understand that his father loved him entirely and gave to him everything without condition, at which point I wanted to raise my hand:

Excuse me, rewind that to the point where the son says he never even got a goat to cook when his friends came over, and now you’re giving him the fatted calf?

Because that seems to be a salient point, and suggests a backstory wherein the favored son was indulged, and the dutiful son was held to a higher standard because Dad off-loaded his manliness lessons on the one who wasn’t going anywhere, and needed to toughen up. Golden Boy gets his talents and heads off to the big city to dip his wick and play knuckle-bone gambling games, but the dull son has to stay behind and run the barn. Dull son has his father’s managerial instincts, but his father does not value them as much as he prizes Golden Boy, who represents high-cultural attributes. As the favored son succeeds, so is the father enobled.

So Golden Boy goes off, and time passes, and Dad hears nothing. Assumes the worst. Then one day the son returns, and says in his abject humiliation that he blew all his money on hookers and drink. Dad doesn’t care because he’s glad to see his son again. I get that. I do not get why the dutiful son is the bad guy in this story. He’s making a good point: forgiveness is a noble act, but absolution without consequences is an insult to ME, THE GUY WHO’S BEEN RUNNING THE BARNS. I know, I know, judge not lest ye be judged, but what the hey, judge me, pop. Did I vanish one day with a bag of talents and never write and squander it all? No? Let’s start with that, then. My brother goes to Babylon and gets hammered every night on your dime and we’re having calf for dinner, but I bust my butt every day to make sure the flax gets in the granary and off to market and I don’t get a goat when my friends drop in once a year.

It’s the day after the celebratory banquet I’d like to visit.

Golden Boy to Dutiful Son: I imagine you’re a bit . . . put out.

Dutiful son: Don’t. Even. Start.

Golden Boy: honest, I was fully prepared to work as a slave. I was positively famished.

Dutiful Son: hand me the scythe. No, not that, that. By the grinding stone.

Golden Boy: Father said we should talk.

DS: I think he said it all last night. I suppose you’ll be calling on Sarah once word gets around you’re back.

GB: Oh dear Sarah, I hadn’t thought. How is she? You were sweet on her. I’d have thought you’d have -

DS: She was taken with the fits when you left and would see no one. Her family had her married to Mordechai the money-changer.

GB: That old sot? Sink me. Well, she doesn’t lack for anything, I’m sure.

DS: Nay, nothing but the love of a good man, but what’s that when you’ve pails of myrrh? I’d advise you stay clear.

GB: Is she still comely?

DS: (gritting teeth) Aye.

GB: Perhaps I shall enjoy being home again. You know I do recommend a stint as a slave, it really does give one a new perspective. One gets positively morose.

DS: (whirls around, face aflame) And I imagine that all the rest of the men felt a great pity for you, being the son of a rich man like them, each of you wondering when you’d finally swallow your pride and go home, am I right? Or did they not have the possibility? I can’t imagine you hid your story under a basket. I imagine you left because you heard them discussing which one would have the honor of slitting your throat while you slept.

GB: (sniffs) I got along quite well. They wanted for amusement and I would like to think I provided it.

DS: Oh I am certain that you did, brother, I am certain that you did. So why have you come to the barn?

GB: Father says I am to count the cows. He says that is my duty from now on. Every morn.

DB: There are thirty-two cows. Would you like to know their names?

GB: You name our cows? That’s precious.

DB: Our cows, he says.

GB: I didn’t catch that, brother.

DB: I said they’re our cows, are they.

GB: Well, yes. Ten for you, ten for father, ten for me. Tell me, what do they fetch in the market?

DB: You won’t be -

GB: If they’re all our cows, brother, then some of them are my cows. Oh, don’t look like that. You’ll still have yours. (looks at the ground) (looks up grinning) Sarah had a sister, didn’t she? Young thing when I left but time doth ripen the fruit in its wondrous ways.

DB: Amaranth.

GB: Oh, yes. That was her name.

DB: No.

GB: I’m sorry?

DB: Amaranth is the cow in the far stall there. You might want to visit her and give thanks.

GB: A cow. And why would I wish to do that?

DB: Because you ate her child last night. For your feast. Because all were happy that you had returned. Save one.

GB: Dear brother. Don’t tell me you hold a grudge,

DB: I don’t. It’s not a thing that does a man well. (glares) But if you have an apology in you, tell it to the beast. They listen. They hear much. You’d be glad to know they tell naught.

And therein lies the crux of the matter, for if we're gong to apply the parable as my friend suggests, we have to accept that the joy shown to the Prodigal (the "Golden Boy," if you will) is still different from that enjoyed by the Dutiful Son over all these years.

But what if the Dutiful Son has always felt like the red-headed stepchild, taken for granted, unappreciated?  As Tommy Smothers would say to Dick, "mom always liked you best!"  Under those circumstances, it could almost seem as if the father had wished it was the Dutiful Son, and not the Golden Boy, who had left home early.

See how family dynamics like this play out?  It is a soap opera!  But families often are, and without a strong, fair, impartial patriarch at the head, things can get ugly.  To view the pope as the father looking for the prodigal, the shepherd searching for the lost sheep, one must imply that the Dutiful Son is being nothing more than jealous and petulant, resenting the attention suddenly lavished on the lost sheep return home.  And that, I would contend, is not the situation facing the Church today.

True, over the time of Pope Benedict there was a sense that those who had kept the tradition of the Faith alive over the years had finally gained the upper hand (the "Cafeteria is Closed" crowd), but even then there were complaints that things didn't go far enough, that Benedict hadn't fully integrated the traditionalists back into the Church mainstream.  And though the pontificate of John Paul II was an enormous improvement over that of the disastrous Paul, you still get this feeling that, if anything, it's the traditionalists in the role of the Prodigal, seeking to be welcomed back into a Church that has marginalized them for the better part of the last fifty years or so, excluding them from influence, ridiculing them for holding on to "old-fashioned" values, mocking their desire for Latin and sacred music in the liturgy.  In fact, from many quarters there's been a thinly-concealed (if that) hatred for these people and what they represent.

The only difference in this analogy is that the Prodigal receives no welcome, no fatted calf, nothing but the back of the father's hand.  He's said that he'd be willing even to serve as a slave, and he'll be lucky if the father gives them that much.

Is that how the parable of the Prodigal Son plays out in the Catholic Church today?  If not, it's up to this pope to demonstrate in his actions and in his words that he's not that kind of a father.  Because, frankly, in a situation like this foster fathers are hard to come by. ◙

Top Gear remembers Ayrton Senna

This is a bit of a change of pace, I know, but the timing is right. Today would have been the 54th birthday of Ayrton Senna, arguably the greatest Grand Prix driver ever. Senna was killed in an accident during the San Marino Grand Prix in 1994; already a legend, what kept Senna from then becoming a myth more than a man was the way he had lived his life, as you'll soon see.

There are many reasons why I ranked Top Gear number one on my Top Ten list, but amidst the wackiness and absurdity and dumb fun, one of the things the show does best is to draw out the romance of cars and the humanity of those who drive them.  Never was that more apparent than in this tribute to Senna from four years ago on the occasion of his 50th birthday.  James May introduces the piece as "a slight change of mood," but even though the show's off-the-wall humor is replaced by an uncommon solemnity, the underlying theme is no different than it has been on so many occasions.

There is something magical about the automobile - always has been.  And when someone drives a car, as Senna did, doing things that few people had ever seen done before, then we take note that this is a special person.  It is right that we should honor people like that, for their accomplishments, for doing things that we would like to do but can't, for doing what we might not have even considered possible.  He was human, as we all are, oftentimes for better and occasionally for worse, and we remember him for his extraordinary humanity.  But when he got behind that wheel, Ayrton Senna ceased to be human; he was a visible representation of a gift that had been given to him and which he sought to make the most of, and in doing so he guaranteed that we would never forget him.

So here's Top Gear's remembrance of Ayrton Senna, which says much about both the man and the program. ◙

This piece originally appeared at It's About TV!

Classic phrases on the radio

The greatness of radio broadcasts in sports in the past is how crucial plays led to timeless phrases heard for many occasions, whether it's the catbird's seat, or the stories Vin Scully can form after being sent information from information staffers, or crucial plays that led to phrases that are forever etched in sport.

During Saturday's first game of a doubleheader in the Southeastern Conference, South Carolina radio broadcaster Andy Demetra went to one of those baseball greats in calling a crucial game-tying home run. As the game-tying home run went sailing, considering what had happened earlier in the series and why the player who hit the shot had been relegated to his duties of hitting at this point, you could have been somewhere else when listening to the radio.

You could almost sense one of the greatest home runs in baseball, over a quarter century ago, all over again when listening to the radio, down to the phrase that made it feel that way. ◙

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide: March 23, 1968

We are, in a sense, revisiting this week's issue, having used it once before in last year's discussion on the content of Saturday morning children's programming.*  And that was an interesting topic, but by no means does it exhaust the material at hand.

*I just love it when I link to myself.  Because, as they say, if you won't do it, nobody else will.

***
One of the great controversies of the 1950s surrounded Princess Margaret, Queen Elizabeth's sister, and her romance with the divorced Group Captain Peter Townsend.  A marriage between the two was vetoed by the Church of England, which at the time forbade divorce and remarriage (head of the church: Queen Elizabeth), and in 1960 she married the photographer Antony Armstrong-Jones, who upon marriage became Earl of Snowdon.  Tonight, CBS Reports presents "Don't Count the Candles," a photographic essay by Lord Snowdon on aging.  In addition to pictures depicting ordinary people dealing with various aspects of getting older, there are interviews with people at both ends of the aging spectrum, from Twiggy to Noel Coward to Field Marshal Montgomery.

For her part, Margaret turned out to be the black sheep of the royal family, having scandalous love affairs, saying outrageous things, and in general embarrassing the rest of the family at every opportunity.  My mother always thought Margaret did those things on purpose, and while I don't know whether or not there's any empirical data proving this, it doesn't require an advanced degree in psychology to suggest that Maggie was getting back at Liz for what happened with Townsend.  The only thing that could have made this story better was if the stymied Group Captain went on to become a rebellious rock musician, but such was not the case.

Eventually, Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon divorce (a delightful line from the always-reliable Wikipedia notes that their marriage was "accompanied by drugs, alcohol, and bizarre behaviour by both parties such as Snowdon's leaving lists between the pages of books the princess read for her to find, of 'things I hate about you'"); Snowden goes on to marry (and divorce) the former wife of film director Michael Lindsay-Hogg, while Margaret never remarries, but carries on a, shall we say, colorful life.

As was the case with the Ingrid Bergman story last week, what we see here (albeit in a far more tangential way, since Margaret is mentioned nowhere in the listing*) is more evidence of how perspectives on marriage have changed over the years.  It was one thing for Margaret, not even the heir to the throne, to scandalize Church and Country by marrying a divorced man; it is, apparently, something else that the current heir is, in fact, married to a divorced woman with whom he apparently conducted an affair while married to his former wife.  Again, no judgement here, merely observation.

*But if you insist on a television link, the subject of Margaret's later relationship with Roddy Llewellyn was once brief fodder for an episode of We Interrupt This Week, a show I looked at a couple of days ago.

Read the rest here.  ◙

The Fatherless Church

From time to time I’ve had occasion to talk with friends about what life was like in our families while growing up.  I myself grew up without a father, my parents having gone their separate ways prior to my birth, but that is not quite the same thing as having a father who shirked his responsibility, which is the case with several of my friends.

The culprits were the usual ones, booze being at the top of the list.  And so while the father was around, his presence was almost spectral; there but not there.  Depending on the strength of the mother, the family was held together with varying degrees of success, but what remained the same in all cases was that a spectral father left a void every bit as gaping as having no father at all.  The children managed, for the most part, adapting to their circumstances (as children often will), and with few exceptions they turned out to be stellar adults, though they also bore the wounds of childhood.  But one thing that they almost all agreed on was that something was lacking, that even though they managed without an active dad, there were some gaps that could not be filled, some absences for which there was no compensation.  And almost all of them were filled with regret, to one extent or another, at the things they missed, the memories that never were, the guidance that should have been but wasn’t.  Life may have turned out exceedingly well for them, but it was still incomplete.  In the drama that was their lives, there was a role that had been cast, but had not been filled. There was something missing.

Which brings me to the state of the Catholic Church today.

We’ve just passed the first anniversary of the election of the current pope, and it’s a fair assessment that he’s thrilled some, angered others, and confused many.  Depending on who one talks to, he’s either Machiavellian in his cleverness, Christ-like in his gentleness, or Ted Baxter-ish in his cluelessness.  Even now I’m not sure which of the three he is, though I haven’t ruled out the possibility of them all being valid.

As I’ve written before, I would not consider myself to be a “fan” of this pope.  I’ve ceased reading much about him, for the choices often seem to be either fawning obsequiousness or slanderous contempt; either one would be enough to make my blood pressure rise.  In the event, I try to avoid much about him whenever possible, lest I expose some latent, simmering rage.  I still avert my eyes whenever his picture scrolls into view - again, an effort to avoid a proximate cause of sin.  (Like many, I found something disturbing about his initial appearance on the balcony, a feeling which remains with me still.)  As you may have noticed, it’s still an effort for me to even use his name – an effort I generally don’t try to mount.  It would be very wrong to think that I hate him; that's too personal a feeling for me to have toward him.  Indifference, however, can be just as damning.

A commenter at another blog mentioned that after a year he still mourned the end of Benedict’s pontificate.  “Mourned” seems a strong word to me, not the kind of word I generally use, but also it doesn’t quite summarize my attitude.  It’s too gentle, too sentimental.  Were I to select a word of my own, it would perhaps be “bitter.”*

*Putting me in mind of one of my favorite poems, Stephen Crane’s “In the Desert”:

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.

I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;
"But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”

***

The origin of bitterness, if such exists, is because in converting to the Catholic faith it sometimes seems as if, in Whittaker Chambers’ words, I’ve joined the losing side.  What makes this more frustrating is that this side – the Church – has all the correct answers.  What it lacks is someone to articulate them.

Someone has pointed out that prior to last year’s Conclave, it would have been inconceivable to suggest that it “didn’t matter” who the pope was.  Yet for many Catholics, it seems that this is exactly what is called for today.  And when the best way to avoid anger is to ignore the pope and what he says, that’s not a good thing.  It’s true that the faith of the Church is constant and unchanging – the truth, after all, is the truth – and in that sense it’s also true that when the tracks run straight and true, it isn’t that important who the engineer is.  But the pope also has a role with regard to the faithful – to care for their souls, to instruct them, to correct them when necessary, to lead them.  Just as the father is head of the family, the pope is head of the Church’s family.  And what we have today is a fatherless Church.

It operates; Mass is said, confessions are heard, souls are saved, the Eucharist is received.  The Catechism spells out exactly what the Church believes, and why.  It functions, as the fatherless households of my friends functioned.  But there is something missing.

Think of the paternal figure teaching a young boy how to be a man.  There is the wise comforter wiping tears from a daughter's eyes.  There is the husband who is the rock of the family, who helps out when help is requested - and, even as important, when it isn't.  This is what the father provides a family, what my friends were unable to experience.

Think of the tireless advocate for the unborn who hears from her pontiff that she may be "obsessed" with single issues.  Think of the defender of the Church's teachings who feels dismissed with not even a how-do-you-do to show for it, while his pontiff lavishes attention on those who don't even seek it.  Think of the believer of tradition, the unbroken line of some two thousand years that unites the Church militant to the Church triumphant, only to see those beliefs under attack, while the pontiff scarcely raises his voice.  Abortion.  Euthenasia.  Homosexual marriage.  The authority of the Magisterium.  Precisely the kinds of things that a father stands up for within his own family.

Crickets.

***

I'm reminded of another poem*, this one by T.S. Eliot, an Anglican who likely would have converted to Catholicism had he lived to see the meaninglessness into which his church has descended, a meaninglessness of doctrine, a lack of teaching, a foundation that looks like nothing more sound than quicksand.

*I don't mean to turn this into Poetry Corner, by the way.

According to the always-reliable Wikipedia,  "The Hollow Men" deals with post-World War I Europe under the Treaty of Versailles, the difficulty of hope and religious conversion, and possibly his own failed marriage.

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass<
In our dry cellar

The Bishop of Rome assures us that he is a loyal "son of the Church."  A son, of course, suggests a father, and I've no doubt that the pope draws great strength and comfort from his Heavenly Father; but he must also know the importance of an earthly father.  After all, Christ's earthly father, St. Joseph, is the protector of the Church.

It is time for the Holy Father to be an earthly father to that Church.  Let's not forget how "The Hollow Man" closes, with one of the most famous stanzas in literature, lines that even those who don't read poetry are likely familiar with:

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Today we are The Fatherless Church, and though we continue to function it is often without a hand on the tiller, and even if we keep on course we are acutely aware of what we are missing.  We are The Fatherless Church, and we fear that we're being led by Hollow Men, headpieces filled with straw. We wonder when the father will start to act like a father, to fill the gap that only he is capable of filling - indeed, which he has been charged with filling.

Will it be too late?  Or will it all end, not with the banging of the doors of nearly empty churches, but with whimpering from their nearly empty pews?  ◙

Checks and balances

One part of the American judicial system's signature calling cards is the checks and balances system.  Sadly, the judges are too arrogant today and believe nobody can put a check on them.

When sexual deviancy groups began to flaunt "sexual freedom trumps religious freedom," as Administration official Chai Feldblum has publicly mentioned, the rules changed.  Courts began forcing homsexual activism of all colours, and in states, legislatures began placing checks on the courts, stating believers have a right to religious freedom.  After hours of bullying on CNN, MSNBC, and every mainstream popular culture outlet, Governess Brewer vetoed common sense tightening of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act.

And unfortunately, popular culture is wrong.  Suppose a local Bible publisher is told by a sexual deviancy organisation to print flyers for a "pride" rally that features child pornography (which is against the law) on the flyer to promote the grotesque sin peddling event.  The publisher refuses, and the deviants sue the publisher.  With Miss Feldblum's singular chant of "sexual freedom trumps religious freedom," the courts could, especially with this Administration's notorious court-packing that FDR could only imagine he had with the Reid Rules, declare the law against child pornography illegal and force the publisher to print the illegal pornography, similar to companies fined for refusing to serve sin-peddling events of their convictions.

Suppose a photographer refuses to photograph a "pride" event with X-rated acts I cannot mention in a family-friendly commentary.  He says it is because of his high standards and decency.  However, the organisation sues, again trumping the sexual freedom card.  That is our problem with rogues, and a reason why that Arizona bill should have been signed.

If we replace our Freedom of Speech, Press, and Religion with Sexual Freedom and Government intrusion into everything else, we have a Communist government that is dictating humanism as the state religion.  Our Founding Fathers would be very angry with us as one group of roughly 12-15%, those of no faith, control the nation and forces everyone to cave to their standards.  Keep in mind that group gave us the current Administration, as their 3:1 easily beat the 5:6 Catholics and Protestants had against this Administration in the 2012 elections.  Furthermore, the teachings in schools and in popular culture promote the propaganda of such humanists today.

How can we have a checks and balances system if rogue judges cannot be checked?   ◙

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide: March 18, 1961

Perhaps no star demonstrates the change in popular culture over the last 60 or so years more than Ingrid Bergman.

In 1950 there were fewer stars bigger than Bergman, who had appeared in a string of hits including Intermezzo, Casablanca, Joan of Arc and The Bells of St. Mary's, and had won an Academy Award as Best Actress for Gaslight.  She then became involved in a scandal - an affair with director Roberto Rossellini (they were both married to other people at the time) which left her pregnant, and her reputation in tatters.  Her adultery got her denounced on the floor of the U.S. Senate (as "a horrible example of womanhood") and disinvited from The Ed Sullivan Show, and she remained in something of an exile even after winning her second Oscar in 1958 for Anastasia.  It wasn't until 1958, when she made a triumphant appearance as a presenter at the Oscarcast, that she returned to the American spotlight, and even then the lengthy ovation she received from the audience was controversial - some felt it amounted to a tacit endorsement of her past behavior.

This week, Bergman prepares for a rare television appearance, in the drama Twenty-Four Hours in a Woman's Life* on CBS Monday night.  Gilbert Millstein's profile only alludes to that scandal, remarking that "in the last two decades, she has been successively praised, blamed, boycotted, picked over, analyzed, adjured, sympathized with, litigated over and clasped once more to the public breast without any noticeable erosion." Bergman herself says that "Everybody feels that you belong to them.  I would have liked to have my own problems in peace, but it was not to be and I could not change any of it."  Having played a nun in The Bells of St. Mary's and a saint in Joan of Arc led people to view her not as a woman, but through the prism of the roles she played.

*Written by John Mortimer, better known as the creator of Rumpole of the Bailey.

SOURCE: HADLEY TV GUIDE COLLECTION

And that is just one of the ways in which we see the massive cultural changes over these years.  It's hard to imagine, for example, that the public, cynical as they now are, would feel so betrayed by an actress' personal life.  For that matter, adultery itself doesn't have the cache it used to, Tiger Woods notwithstanding.  The old saying, "there's no such thing as bad publicity" seems to be more true now than ever. Hugh Grant's indiscretion a few years ago was played mostly for laughs, and probably helped Jay Leno's career more than anything else.  With the advent of reality television to go along with the fanmags, embarrassment and public ostracism are things of the past.

The fallout over Ingrid Bergman's scandal was probably excessive (didn't the Senate have anything better to do?) but it came from a period in time when there was a common moral code, a sense of right and wrong that was generally accepted by a majority of the public.  If people lacked charity in their reaction, it could be said that their hearts might have been in the right place.

Ultimately, though, it's time to live and let live.  Ingrid Bergman, her elegance and her talent, are back - and we're the more fortunate for it.

Read the rest here. ◙

On Governess Brewer's Veto: Wrong for Arizona, and The Dangers of Deviancy Actions

The recent veto of toughening the Religious Freedom Restoration Act in Arizona by Governess Brewer (see picture at left) was very disturbing.  The Family Research Council called it one of the dirtiest wars in liberalism, where the press used its powers to distort the bill.  Freedom of the press, built on religious liberty, has been destroyed because speech control, part of this Administration's accomplishments in the Shepard-Byrd Hate Crimes Act, took place in the advancement of propaganda against it.

One disturbing phrase I have read in recent debates between the Biblical and Humanist Worldview was made by a law professor working now with the Obama Administration, Chai Feldblum, who has publicly said “sexual freedom trumps religious freedom.” Now let's take the worldview of the Left to its full extent regarding this bill, and ask yourself what you would do in light of what has happened in other states that led to Arizona legislators proposing this bill.

Suppose a printer, a devout Southern Baptist, has a printing company, and the company actively is printing Bibles for various churches in the community (most likely a Public Domain version, not one of the numerous copyrighted versions that have appeared in the late 20th century to the present), church order of worship, newsletters for various churches in their community, and flyers for various speakers that come to churches.  Then, there comes a sexual deviancy activism group attempting to bring their “flock of lions” rally (if you remember the nickname of a minor league hockey team and the nasty rivalries in a Southern state in the late 1990's to early 2000's, you will understand the reference – the rivalry was downright nasty at times – the older of the two clubs still exists today and is Boston's AA affiliate today with the team president being a player during that era, and I'll never forget a road game I traveled that went into overtime in the playoffs and the reaction hotter than any football rivalry at the time) to the city, and they ask the printer to print flyers for the event.  The printer inspects the flyer and notes both child pornography other explicit material being featured in the file he was sent, and refuses to print such.

Now that's the issue in question.  None of the major professional sports federations that offer authentic and replica jerseys will permit customised jerseys to feature X-rated custom text.  And a business has a right to refuse printing indecent material if they refuse.  The sign outside the shop specifically says “We reserve the right to refuse printing explicit material or if it is against the law.”

But the deviancy activists sue, demanding the printer print the material.  Their claim, as would be made in the courts, is “Sexual freedom trumps religious freedom, and there are no religious exemptions, as Administration officials have stated.”

Seriously, folks, that is the issue.  Does a Bible publisher have a right to deny a sexual deviancy organisation the right to print child pornography on their printing presses?  Even though child pornography is against the law (and duly so), we know that activists will press to declare even that ban to be illegal and will use courts to advance their cause.  The deviants will almost certainly use the “sexual freedom” chant to force their agenda, and with numerous court victories, will work on their wins against Christians to advance their cause.  And in many states where marriage was redefined by courts or city-state dominated state legislators, the first line attacked is always churches and their related organisations, as we have seen with Catholic Charities and with other groups with adoption and foster care agencies.  At a recent Citizens for Life event, a former Massachusetts resident informed me that after court-ordered redefinition, they pushed sexual deviant couples to the top of the adoption and foster care line, and Bible believers were sent to the end of the line, which effectively allows for deviants to run rampant and perform child abuse on the children they exploit by adopting or caring that they cannot be prosecuted because of “sexual freedom,” as they demand.

It is religious freedom, and this type of issue, that the ill-fated Arizona bill that should have been signed, except for the massive CNN and MSNBC propaganda push that had the tell-tale signs of the CCCP, was designed to protect the Bible publisher from having to print X-rated material they refuse to print.  People need to wake up and understand how sexual deviancy activists are stopping to advance their cause, and prosecuting anyone whose worldview opposes theirs is the signature of the New Tolerance:  Accept Our Worldview Or Be Prosecuted, endorsed by Dear Leader via the Shepard-Byrd Hate Crimes Act and his minions of supporters, especially those of no faith that put him over the top.  And thanks to humanist teachings in schools, that group is sadly growing.  What gives for this New Taipei City native whose formative years was spent in parochial schools teaching a Biblical worldview?  Am I headed to jail for refusing to cave to humanism?

Those of us who believe in God's Word should not be treated, as Dear Leader and his minions demand, as teams that play on Al Jazeera instead of being on NBC in the English football pyramid.   ◙

US-USSR hockey, 1960 Winter Olympics

A little late perhaps, but I just ran across this footage today: CBS' coverage of the first period of the US - USSR hockey game at the 1960 Winter Olympics in Squaw Valley, CA, with - I believe - Bud Palmer at the mic for the play-by-play.  (There are several versions available; this one appears to be the complete game.)

A few observations: first, Bud Palmer isn't exactly an unbiased announcer, is he?  But I always enjoyed listening to his work.

As was the case with the 1980 Miracle on Ice, this isn't the gold medal game; the medals were decided based on the overall record of the teams in the medal round.  The US finished with a perfect 5-0 record in that round, followed by Canada at 4-1, and the Soviet Union at 2-2-1.  The US actually clinched the gold with their 9-4 victory over Czechoslovakia the next day.  (By the way, the corners on the ice surface are really deep, aren't they?  It makes the rink look almost rectangular.)

And did you notice the sunshine streaming across parts of the ice and the crowd?  Olympic regulations of the time required all events to be held outside (or, more precisely, they couldn't be held "under a roof"); thus, Blyth Arena  was constructed with one complete side open (the one facing the camera).  The Olympic rings were attached via cables, and ropes were hung down in an effort to cut down on the sun's glare on the ice.  I don't know how you all feel about it, but I think it's kind of neat.  And with the success of the NHL's Winter Classic, why not have all the skating events outside?  The arena in Cortina for the 1956 games did this to great effect.*

*Not to mention it's appearance in the James Bond movie For Your Eyes Only.


Al Michaels, eat your heart out!  ◙


Cross-posted at It's About TV!

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide: March 4, 1961

Raymond Burr was on the cover of TV Guide at least a dozen times, between Perry Mason and Ironside, not to mention his turn as Pope John XXIII.  There's very little new to be written about him, and we know that much of what we've already read will turn out not to be true.  There are a couple of things that remain consistent through all these stories, however: that Ray Burr is a very private man, and that he's a mensch to work with.

Richard Gehman's profile of Burr this week alludes to his life as "one long series of heartbreaking tragedies," most of which didn't actually happen, but there's a significant line in this section, in which Gehman remarks that "few of Burr's friends know anything about him."  It's likely that, in retrospect, what they did know of him might not have been so.  Lest you think I'm hammering Burr, I'm not, or at least I don't mean to.  It is, however, impossible to write about him without picking up these small pieces, which appear in so many articles about him, and contrast them with what we've since learned about him.

Raymond Burr is one of my favorite actors, just as Perry Mason remains one of my favorite series.  And the comments from Burr's colleagues on Mason demonstrate why he was so well-liked on the set.  He's a practical joker, for one thing, his favorite victim being Barbara Hale, who plays Mason's devoted secretary Della Street.  He's good to the crew, with "a desire for everybody to be happy, to be wanted and to belong," leading one person to refer to the Mason set as "the happiest company in Hollywood."

He's also loyal, and not afraid to fight for what he believes in.  When William Talman, who plays Mason's nemesis Hamilton Burger, was suspended from the show following a morals charge (later dismissed), Burr was outraged and fought CBS constantly until Talman was reinstated.  And Ray Collins, who plays Lt. Arthur Tragg, remained listed on the opening credits even after his health prevented him from appearing on the show.  This was, of course, also at Burr's "request."

This article is the first of a three-part series on Burr's life; subsequent parts will go into detail on the more dubious assertions about Burr's past.  In later years, articles will elaborate on these events, but they'll also discuss Burr's devotion to visiting American troops in battle areas, and his continuing commitment to his colleagues. A mensch indeed.

Read the rest here. ◙

Wish I'd Written That

Now that the Olympics are over, maybe it's safe to share what I really think.  From Paul Lucas at Uniwatch:

Hmmm — artistry, theater, glitz, glamour, storytelling. Those are all perfectly valid terms, and they do indeed seem to be central to figure skating’s ethos, and even its scoring rules, which are completely subjective and include grades for “Composition and Choreography” and “Interpretation and Timing.” All of which reinforces a simple point I’ve been making for years (and feel obliged to make again, now that the winter Olympics are taking place):

Figure skating is not a sport.

Paul goes on to answer a few objections he knows people might have to his opinion - or, as I would put it, statement of fact:

Having winners and losers makes skating a competition, not a sport. Lots of things are competitions but not sports: ballroom dancing contests, battles of the bands, chess tournaments, American Idol, video games, fantasy baseball leagues, Uni Watch design contests, bake-offs, and so on. At least one of those things is athletic, but none of those things is a sport, and neither is figure skating. 

(Of course, we could probably say that about half the events in today's Winter Olympics, but never mind that.)

Read the whole thing here.  ◙

Retro TV Monday - This week in TV Guide: February 24, 1979

The last time we saw James Arness,he was patrolling Dodge City as Marshal Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke.  He's now on a different network, ABC, in a different role, Zeb Macahan, on a different show, How the West Was Won. But Arness remains a larger-than-life star in a genre that's been very good to him: the Western.

Westerns used to dominate television - in 1959 alone there were 26 of them.  But there hasn't been a successful one since - when? Brisco County, Jr.?  That was a quirky series that really tried to transcend the genre to make it more relevant to the 21st Century, but perhaps it was too far ahead of its time, and it only lasted one season on Fox.  Firefly?  That was another series that Fox didn't really get, and it too ran only one season.  It was a blend of the old West and the new West - space. For all its sci-fi trappings, though, its sensibility was the Western.  Then there are the modern-day Westerns, from Walker, Texas Ranger to Justified to Longmire, but those are programs that I'd say are set in the West geographically more than philosophically. Little House on the Prairie had a good pedigree, Michael Landon having been one of the stars of one of the last big-time Westerns, Bonanza.  Doctor Quinn probably qualifies as a Western in spirit as well as setting, but that strikes me more as soap opera than horse opera.

How the West Was Won wasn't what you'd call a long-running success, but it's one of those shows that seemed always to be on TV one way or another.  It started as a TV-movie in 1976, The Macahans, then had a go in miniseries format the next season, before becoming a regular series for 1978 and 1979.  As the notoriously reclusive Arness sits down for his "one and only" interview of the new season, he explains to Dick Russell the difference between his two titanic characters.  Machaan, he says, is a man from "an era when men were the law unto themselves," making their own rules, taking advice only from themselves.  Matt Dillion, on the other hand, "was the opposite - a guy who not only had to see that the laws were carried out, but live by them himself.  He had to do the right thing." Arness took this code to heart, as "Miss Kitty," Amanda Blake, recalls: "He didn't want Matt to make a mistake."  She wondered why he couldn't be "on the other end of the pole" even once.  "Might've been interesting.  But Jim would never hear of it."

How the West Was Won gives Arness a chance to live out a different kind of Western hero, one closer to his own persona - the rugged outdoorsman, less restrained and buttoned up than Dillon.  But the strength of Dillon, and of James Arness the man, remains paramount.  In real life, as a close friend confides, Arness "really believes in the law of the West - what's right is right, and wrong is wrong; there are no grays."  It's impossible to not see this quality in Arness, and perhaps that had to do with the end of the Western.  As the 50s morphed into the 60s and 70s, society was less confident, less able to tell the difference between right and wrong, more willing to see the shades of grey that Arness was unwilling to acknowledge.  The kind of self-assuredness of a Matt Dillon or Zeb Macahan threatens people at times like this, people who lack that kind of knowledge of themselves, and when confronted with it they often shut their eyes to it.  By the time the public was again ready for that kind of television hero, as Steven Stark comments in Glued to the Set, the maverick cowboy had been replaced by the maverick police detective.

How the West Was Won leaves the air in 1979, and James Arness will return to Gunsmoke, making five TV-movies between 1987 and 1994. His own foray into police procedurals, McClain's Law, has a brief run in 1981-82.  Arness' character, Jim McClain, is described as an "old-school" cop; but when it comes to taking the bad guy to school, nobody does it better than the heroes of the Old West, the ones James Arness plays so well.

Read the rest here.  ◙