Flying

First of all, let me mention that it is a dream of mine to be a Medevac nurse. You know, one who goes out in a helicopter to critical situations and airlifts the injured to the nearest hospital/trauma center. Also does critical patient transfers (ie, Baby A is born at X General Hospital at 23 weeks gestation; since X General Hospital is in the boonies with no NICU for miles, Baby A is Medevacced to Generic Medical Center, which does have one). I don't mind helicopters.
I hate flying. I hate, hate, HATE flying.
Specifically, I hate flying on commercial airlines. I don't care if my chances of being on a hijacked plane are slim to none. I do not take comfort in the fact that I, a 5' 2" female of Irish descent am pulled aside for a "random security check" (on EVERY flight I've taken since 9-11, I might add!) while various persons of the only ethnic background known to fly passenger planes into buildings full of innocent civilians are allowed to hop on my flight with nary a blink of an eye from the TSA geniuses.
The last time I flew, it was August. I was flying into Dallas-Fort Worth Airport. The temperature in Dallas was approximately 120 degrees F with 99.5% humidity. I exaggerate, but only slightly.
I was flying out of Midway in Chicago. With a cat. And wearing a) bobby pins in my hair, b) glasses, and c) an underwire bra.
The cat (the story behind why the cat was flying with me is long and complicated) is, of course, accompanying me in the cabin. I might add that I had to pay $50 in order to get the airline to allow this, despite the fact that not ONE MEMBER of the crew noticed the fact that the cat was on the plane till I got off and a stewardess asked where I got my purse (which was, in fact, a dog-purse held closed with safety pins).
The cat is drugged in order to keep the crew from deciding halfway through the trip that our stop is 10, 000 feet up. The cat is showing all the signs of using heavy tranquilizers: hugely dilated pupils, inability to walk in a straight line (or at all), a remarkably positive outlook on life in general (despite being contained in a dog purse held closed by safety pins and having two HUGE German shepherds barking their fool heads off a foot and a half away from the owner of said cat), etc, etc. I decide to sign over my firstborn child to the vet who gave her these tranquilizers. The woman is a genius.
So, we get to Security. Bear in mind that this is just after the liquids-on-planes scare, so Security is slower than usual, even for Midway. (That's really saying something, considering the usual rate of Midway security).
So, I am informed that I must remove my glasses, my bobby pins, any jewelry and my shoes, get the cat out of the carrier so that the carrier can be Xrayed, and walk through the metal detector.
I would have payed to watch this.
Bear in mind that I am legally blind without my glasses. I was also in the process of growing my hair out from a short, layered cut, so when my hair wasn't contained by pins it stood on end in its curly, wavy, messy glory.
So here I am, attempting to walk through (vs. into) the metal detector, clutching a cat to my chest, with my hair on end. And the detector goes off.
I am (ahem) well-endowed. The only kind of bra I've ever found that...works properly...is a wonderful underwire one with silicon inserts on the shoulders. If Playtex ever stops making that bra, I will spend hundreds of dollars stocking up on them before the stores are out.
Suffice to say that by the time I finish with the TSA gal, I feel strongly that we should be married. Then the screener went through my makeup case, making certain that my eyeliner was, in fact, not a threat to national security.
The cat is then forcibly shut in the carrying case, and I am off to DFW. One totally uneventful flight later, I deal with a moron on a power trip (TSA job description) who feels that I am unreasonable in my expectations of at having my luggage arrive at the same airport at the same time as I get there. 45 minute later, I get my luggage ("Oops, we accidentally put it on the baggage corral from Talahassee.")
Arriving in DFW, I realize that I have nothing at my apartment for the cat. No kitty box, no cat food, no food dishes, etc. This could be a problem. The cat is still sufficiently tranquilized that I don't want to leave her alone.
No problem! I'll just take her into Walmart with me! Despite their no-pets rule, the Walmart in question did not stop me. They may have been more concerned with the large numbers of youths in hoodies and baggy jeans hanging out in the parking lot.
And I'm off to Chicago again. This time, I hope to return without drugged domestic pets. Or nondomestic pets. Or any person/critter/animal.

Work and College

I work almost full time (30 hours/week) and attend school full time at a community college. Call me crazy, but it isn't reasonable that I should have to take out loans to get a %&*%$&#^@ associate's degree!
It seems like I spend all my time either studying or working. The cost of education has skyrocketed. Fifty years ago, one could get through college without having to take out loans if one was working this much. This is freakin' nuts!
I am so glad the semester is almost over. I am sick of school and working so much; I'm fed to the teeth with working my @ss off and getting Bs and Cs cause I just don't have the time to study as much as I'd need to to get better grades. I've also more than had it with teachers who think that one should get As and not work. Unfortunately, if I don't work, rent doesn't get paid and I don't eat.
There is something very wrong with looking forward to nursing school as RESTFUL, but that's what I'm doing right now. Once I'm in nursing school, I'll only be working on weekends (only! hah!). Of course, I'll also be doing 12-hour shifts at a hospital throughout the week and spending hours upon hours in class and studying, but I digress.
On the bright side, this is the first time ever that stress has caused me to lose weight rather than gain it. Until the last few weeks, I was wearing a size 17 in juniors. I am now in 14s-and they're getting loose!
I'm going to live in today for now--and try to remember that I really only have one more semester of this before I can apply to nursing school. I can't apply till September, and then I can't be accepted until January at the EARLIEST. I'll have several months--if not a year--to rest up by "only" working 40 hours/week (I'll get a second job to save money for nursing school) and attending lots of Al-Anon meetings. I work in retail now; maybe another area store needs a cashier on the weekends, or maybe Walmart (shudder of horror) needs a stocker. Perhaps I'll waitress. Who knows, I might even find someone who needs help with a special-needs kid. Heck, maybe I'll get a really good raise next year when I get my review and I won't have to get a second job!

Yes, in point of fact, I do live!

I won't even try to explain my 6-month absence; I have no readers anyway. Occasionally, I consider that a very good thing.

I'm sitting in Starbucks. There is holiday decor everywhere; snowflakes abound, as do Christmas songs.

It's not even Thanksgiving yet, but I'm already homesick for Christmas. Maybe I'm more homesick for the idea of home. I don't have many great Christmas memories with my family; we have virtually no extended family, and what we have we are estranged from. Alcoholism is a key player, of course. There are many arguements, much coldness, and despite decorations and Christmas music and homemade cookies, very little joy or cheer. This will be my first Christmas away from the family; I predict that I will be very lonesome. I guess this is normal, even though Christmas has been fairly ghastly there for as long as I can remember.

Yet every Christmas, however awful, I've gone outside at some point during Christmas eve. Usually, it's in the evening. Sometimes there is snow falling, sometimes it's just cold. But there will be a moment of silence and expectancy and poignant loneliness; the world is somehow waiting for Christ's birth all over again. Maybe Anne Sofie von Otter best explains it in her song Koppangem:

There is silence around me in the peaceful winter night;

From the church, down in the valley, I can see the candlelight;

And I stopped for a moment in this winter paradise,

When I heard a choir singing through the darkness and the ice,

And the rays from the lights behind the window’s vaulted frames

Had united the souls in hope that something great is waiting.

And I know that those who had left us here had the same thoughts as I:

They’re like flames in the darkness and the stars up in the sky.

And I can see how they sparkle, and they fade before my eyes,

And the truth is coming closer, like a wonder in disguise:

We are brought here a moment,

Like an imprint of a hand,

On an old and frosted window,

Or a footprint in the sand.

For a while I’m eternal, that’s the only thing I know,

I am here and we share our dreams about our destination.

It is cold out here, and the snow is white, but I’m warm deep inside;

I am warm ‘cause I know that my faith will be my guide.

Now there is silence around me; I have heard those words again

In a hymn of grace and glory, saying “Nothing is in vain!”

I can sing and believe it; let the message reach the sky!

Oh silent night, let your promise never die!

And I know before the others; it is peaceful in the church;

He was born for a purpose, and that’s why we’re here together.

Holy night, I feel like a child inside, and indeed He was sent,

So I’m lighting a candle each Sunday in Advent.

That feeling of waiting, of expectancy, and then of such triumph explains Advent and Christmas to me better than anything else.

Isaiah mentions brings it in with the readings in Advent; Awake, watch, look, prepare! Comfort ye my people, saith your God; The voice of him crying in the wilderness "Prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for your God."

No matter how unpleasant Christmas can be, I know from year to year that there will be the beautiful music, the creche, the glory and mystery and divinity of the Christmas Masses--and that moment of deep peace and great joy, of expectancy and fulfillment, of love and sacrifice. In that moment is everything of the Church and God and the divine, and I can be as a little child and believe with every fibre of my soul.

I have no idea why I just wrote all that. Maybe I'll look back on it at sometime in the future, or maybe a reader will find something in there that clicks. Whatever the reason, I'm glad I put in on "paper."

May you and all yours have that moment this Christmas.

Hair, sun, Texas et all

So here I am, hair carefully pinned up with the ends tucked under the pins (am trying to grow my hair out and if the ends get damaged it will have to be trimmed), wondering what possessed me to agree to stay in Texas during the summer.
It is May. In northern Illinois it is in the sixties. In Texas, it is well over 90.
There is something inherently wrong with a climate in which it is "normal" to be over 90 degrees in May.
I have submitted to the indignity of wearing a very, VERY wide-brimmed hat when I am outside. I have slathered myself in SPF 60 sunscreen (man, does that stuff stink!). I have even put large amounts of extra conditioner on the ends of my hair before I put it up.
Over 100 ounces of water per day? Check. Staying inside as much as possible during the hottest times? Check.
I strongly suspect that I look utterly ridiculous. However, I also must admit that I am not (however much I may wish to be) a Texas woman.
Texas women are tall, slender, tanned and, for the most part, blonde. I am 5-3, have an Irish peasant build (think broad shoulders and hips), can't tan to save my life (burn to a crisp if exposed to much sun), AND I have medium-brown hair wurly hair.
Finally, Texas women do not have to wear wide-brimmed hats to avoid horrendous sunburn.
Oh well. At least the hat is a wonderful shade of periwinkle. I think that I shall go put on some big, dangly earrings.
No wonder people think I look earth-mothery. Darn it, I am not a hippie!

Blessed Are The Spin Doctors

Courtesy of http://www.godspy.com/issues/Opus-Dei-and-The-Da-Vinci-Code-by-Austen-Iveriegh.cfm:

BLESSED ARE THE SPIN DOCTORS How Opus Dei took on The Da Vinci Code's hype machine - and won. By Austen Ivereigh

In the run-up to the release of the film of The Da Vinci Code on May 19th the communications director for the UK branch of Opus Dei, a bundle of nervous energy even in calmer times, can hardly contain himself. “This is going to be the most exciting month of my life,” Jack Valero grins, as he passes me a bundle of some of the astonishing recent coverage: pages and pages from Time magazine, Le Figaro, the New York Times, Eve—upbeat coverage getting inside the “real” Opus Dei, contrasted with the murderous conspirators in the Dan Brown megaseller. The articles explain the difference between numeraries (celibate members) and supernumeraries (normally married); why they joined this Catholic organization of 86,000 worldwide dedicated to finding God in their daily work, and how, when you meet them, they are not sinister albino monks but prayerful insurance clerks of conservative temper. Opus Dei has stayed positive, patient and polite. You can’t buy this sort of publicity. But should you ever find yourself cast as the central villains in a film based on a novel that has sold 40 million copies and is about to be one of the most widely watched films in history, you can, at least, enable it. When that novel takes as its premise the “revelation” that for centuries the Catholic Church has covered up the “truth” that Jesus Christ fathered a line of children through Mary Magdalene—and, even more astonishingly, when people actually believe this stuff—why not step out into the spotlight and let people see you as you really are? Opus Dei calls this “turning lemon into lemonade” and in the weeks before the film is released it is producing it in industrial quantities. In New York, for example, Opus Dei offers the media the chance to meet Silas—the murderer in The Da Vinci Code—who turns out to be a Nigerian stockbroker in Brooklyn rejoicing in the name Silas Agbim. Thanks to Dan Brown, he regularly appears on all the major networks, cheerfully discussing his life and vocation as a supernumerary. “If we agreed to all the media requests to meet the ‘real’ Silas,” says Brian Finnerty of Opus Dei in New York, “he would have to give up his stock-exchange job and do this full time.” Watching Valero and his colleagues rush between TV studios, it is hard to remember that this was once the Catholic Church’s reputedly most furtive, defensive organization, obsessed with secrecy and taking an almost perverse pride in the media’s hostility. Once the whipping boy of progressive Catholics, long unfairly associated with shadowy Spanish politics and Vatican intrigues, the face of Opus Dei is now Valero’s: cheery, energetic, transparent, as open as its doors. You want to meet a supernumerary musician with twins in Notting Hill? No problem. Discuss mortification with a celibate numerary? Sure! “It’s like living in a goldfish bowl,” he says laughing. “People know everything about me: what time I get up, how much I pray, that I’m celibate, that I was born in Barcelona. There’s nothing private about us any more.” Opus Dei has even been happy to discuss the cilice—the spiky leg strap that some of its core members wear for an hour or so a day. Valero describes it as “a traditional practice among monks and nuns which, like contemplative prayer and the divine office, can now be done by lay people too.” “You guys are so nice,” they said. “That Dan Brown—he’s a liar. We don’t trust nothing in that book now. You should sue the sucker.” The architect of what has become known as “Operation Transparency” is Opus Dei’s canny global communications director, Professor Juan Manuel Mora. An expert in communications at Opus Dei’s Santa Croce University, near the Piazza Navona in Rome, he has in the space of 10 years completely overturned the organization’s shadowy subculture. It would be nice to report that Mora is a stooped, cowled, puffy-eyed octogenarian monk with nervous tics and scars from overzealous mortification. In fact “Juanma,” as everybody calls him, is, like most leading Opus Dei members, a genial middle-aged layman in a suit: passionate and charming. “We are not taking this lying down,” he tells me over lunch at the university. He has had no more luck than anyone else in securing a preview of the film, but the trailer—which includes a flagellation scene of ferocious sadomasochistic violence—gives a glimpse of what is to come. It is enough that the film be faithful to the novel, says Mora, to take the assault on the reputation of Opus Dei and the Catholic Church to a whole new level. “With the novel, it was a problem of information. We could respond with books, websites and so on, countering falsehoods with truth. But with a film, you have a problem of imagination. People will associate Opus Dei with violence, the Catholic Church with deception. That’s not something you can respond to with a book,” Juanma, who is from Spain, says. When it learned that Sony had bought the rights to the book, Opus Dei said nothing publicly but made contact with the corporation. Polite letters were sent asking that the name of Opus Dei not be used, and pointing out that because the novel claimed to be based on historical truth, many people were likely not to be able to distinguish fact from fiction. Sony replied with vague letters giving no information about the movie but insisting they had no desire to offend anyone. Mora asked for an interview with Amy Pascal, head of Sony’s motion pictures division, but was ignored. You hear this sentiment often on the lips of Christians: of course, if we were Muslims they would never dare... Then in December the film’s director Ron Howard told Newsweek that the movie would closely follow the book, and implied that Opus Dei was in it. Mora swung into action. Opus Dei would now say publicly, in a series of carefully timed open letters to Sony, what the corporation had not allowed it to put to them in private. The news this generated would generate public discussion about respect for faith and freedom of speech, and create yet more opportunities to meet the “real” Opus Dei, so that by the time the film opened the public would be better able to distinguish myth from fact. In February, against the background of the row over the cartoons of the prophet Muhammad, Opus Dei called on Sony to make changes to the film “in these days in which everyone has noted the painful consequences of intolerance.” By making the changes, Sony would demonstrate that freedom of expression is compatible with respect for beliefs while also offering “a service to the cause of dialogue among cultures.” In the same tone of pained regret and elaborate politeness, Opus Dei in Tokyo wrote to Sony’s shareholders and directors in April, appealing to Japanese corporate virtue and asking for a disclaimer in the film that would make clear that it was fiction. A disclaimer, the letter said, “would be a sign of respect towards the figure of Jesus Christ, the history of the Church, and the religious beliefs of viewers.” Sony has been rattled enough to hire PR companies specializing in “reputation management.” Although it has not agreed to the disclaimer, the corporation has continually stressed—unlike Brown—that it is a work of fiction. The movie is “a thriller, not a religious tract,” according to a Sony spokesman, Jim Kennedy. But belying that statement is a website Sony has created “to educate people” about theological issues raised by the film. They include essays and some basic information about the Bible, noting where the book “suggests” conclusions that differ from mainstream Christian belief—thus placing the risible “theories” of the novel on a par with 2,000 years of theology. But Opus Dei has stayed positive, patient and polite. The word “attack” is never used. Sony’s intentions are never presumed. There is no ping-pong counterresponse to the corporation’s statements. There is barely indignation, let alone anger, in the letters and statements; no calls for boycotts or protests or threats to sue. There is none of the arrogance and defensiveness typical of religious groups deploring offensive books or films. “Sony is King Kong,” Mora says. “I want to be cast as the blonde girl..." Contrast this approach with the speech given in Rome recently by Msgr. Angelo Amato, the number two at the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. He called on Catholics to boycott the film and organize protests. If “such lies and errors had been directed at the Koran or the Holocaust, they would have justly provoked a world uprising,” Amato said. “Instead, if they are directed against the Church and Christians, they remain unpunished.” You hear this sentiment often on the lips of Christians: of course, if we were Muslims they would never dare… Not only does this cheer on violence, but it fails to recognize that the anger of the indignant victim quickly moves sympathy away from the victim—as the popular abhorrence of the Muslim protests showed. This is what Mora has grasped. “Sony is King Kong,” he says. “I want to be cast as the blonde girl. If I’m the policeman who fires on King Kong, then sympathy will shift from the blonde girl to the beast.” The brilliance of Opus Dei’s strategy is that it realizes the bind that Christians in the contemporary West are in. Muslims and Jews deserve respect for their beliefs because they are minorities, while Christians are seen—in spite of all the facts to the contrary—as a hegemonic body which it is therefore legitimate to denigrate. The presupposition of The Da Vinci Code is that the Church is powerful, secretive, misogynistic and violent, acting through history like a big, bad corporation. Ironically, this prejudice has been bolstered by secularization: the less contact people have with churches and Christians, the more inclined they are to believe damaging nonsense about them. The novel may have its qualities as a page-turner. But only that combination of credulity and prejudice in Western culture can explain why The Da Vinci Code has become the biggest-selling book after the Bible. That is why the real victim here is the Church. How can the Church contest a best-selling calumny which purports to be fact—or protect its good name against a reputation-smashing Hollywood film? The answer is given by Opus Dei. The Church’s best response is to switch public sympathy to where the facts demand it be directed. It can do this only by inviting people to come in and see the truth for themselves. If it tries to play the victim’s power game—angry, defensive, proud, placard waving, violent—sympathy will switch back from the blonde to the beast. “If we agreed to all the media requests to meet the ‘real’ Silas he would have to give up his stock-exchange job and do this full time.” That is why Mora’s strategy is paying dividends. Before The Da Vinci Code the peak of interest in its US website was 200,000 in 2002—the year of the canonization of the founder, Josemaría Escrivá. Last year it was 2.5 million—on top of a rash of documentaries, news slots and magazine profiles. A number of Opus Dei’s newest members say they first heard of the organization through The Da Vinci Code. Opus Dei’s strategy has not stopped the film, and it won’t stop millions watching it and believing it. But turning lemons into lemonade has meant, at least, that millions more will know that it is nonsense—and unfair on Christians because of Dan Brown’s claim to a basis in fact. And in some there will have been the kind of conversion which a group of American tourists on a “Da Vinci Code pilgrimage” underwent last year. Seeing them gawping outside Netherhall House, Opus Dei’s student residence in north London, Valero invited them in for tea, introduced them to his numerary colleagues, and sat them down to his PowerPoint slides. At the end of the visit the tourists were incensed. “You guys are so nice,” they said. “That Dan Brown—he’s a liar. We don’t trust nothing in that book now. You should sue the sucker.” Tempting, but that would be to play the power game. And anyway, they’re having too much fun. “It’s going to be amaaaazing,” beams Valero. “Then it’ll die down, and we’ll be happy to be the best-known group in the Catholic Church.”

May 16, 2006

AUSTEN IVEREIGH is the director for public affairs of England’s Archbishop of Westminster and coordinator of the Catholic Church in England and Wales’ Da Vinci Code Response Group. He stresses that he is not a member of Opus Dei. This article originally appeared in "The Spectator" (London) and is republished with permission of the author and the Da Vince Code Response Group. @copyright 2006, Austen Ivereigh. All rights reserved.

In the opinion of UC, these actions are infinitely more effective than placard-waving, protesting and/or boycotting Sony. Combine this with seeing a movie that isn't the DVC this week, and you've got yourself a master plan for turning, as it was so eloquently put, lemons into lemonade. Bwahahahaha! (for those who don't know, that is an evil Catholic cackle)

Step Three

I'm in Al-Anon; long story there. In any case, for those of you who are not familiar with Al-Anon or AA (yes, there IS a difference; Al-Anon is a support group for families and friends of alcoholics while AA is Alcoholics Anonymous and is a support group for --you guessed it--alcoholics) Step Three is "Turned our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him."
I've had a much harder time with that step than I had with Steps One and Two. Admitting I was powerless over alcohol/the effects of alcohol on others was something I had done kind of unconsciously; I had to think about it and make sure that there was no part of me that was saying "if I was just x (insert prettier, thinner, more helpful, nicer, other adjective here) then Mom wouldn't drink and Dad would get a job." Of course, there were a few shreds of that but once I confronted them head-on they went away. As far as coming to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity, I knew somehow that there was sanity at the end of the road, and I also knew that there was no way in heck for me to achieve it alone. I just had to have the faith to say that, and I was willing to.
However, Step Three is a more active step. I had to turn myself over to God and allow Him to do with me as He sees fit. To my mind, I could take care of myself far better than anyone else (up to and including God) could, and there was no freaking way I was going to turn myself over to someone who I had always pictured as judge, jury and executioner.
My sponsor kept telling me to redefine my idea of God. I did that by writing down all the things I thought God was and, more necessarily, what He wasn't. At the end of that, I kind of liked my idea of God, but I couldn't believe in it. The idea of a wrathful God who didn't care much about what we did so long as we went through certain motions was firmly ensconced, and didn't seem to be going anywhere.
I learned this week that I was going to have to move. Now, I am in Texas, which is about a thousand miles away from my family. I am renting a small house with two other girls; it is owned by the school I went to this past year. I am not going there next year. I work, but I don't make enough to pay the $450-$500 or so of rent that I'd need to pay for a reasonably safe apartment, leaving aside utility bills. In addition to all this, I would need someplace with at least a washer, if not a dryer; I am allergic to the dyes/perfumes in fabric softener and scented detergent, and that stuff is impossible to not get in one's clothes if you use a public laundromat. That's leaving aside the migraines I get from the overwhelming fumes in such a place. Obviously, stuff can hang dry in a pinch, but you CAN'T wash everything by hand.
My folks are simply not going to come up with financial help. They are both trapped in a very sad disease (alcoholism); they are doing the best they can for now, but that best isn't enough to help me financially.
On Friday night, I realized that there was NOTHING I could do about this until Monday. I worked the weekend, but I had Monday off. So, I planned that I would spend much of Monday trying to find a room mate and apartment, but for the weekend I would give the whole situation to God to do as He wanted. So, I prayed something along the lines of, "God, I can't do anything about this now, and it is really worrying me. Take it, please. I'll deal with it Monday, but worrying about it now will only upset me. It's yours; do with it as You will." I left it at that. That simple prayer was extremely hard for me; in the back of my mind I was thinking that I would solve something by worrying about it, even though I KNEW I wouldn't. Insanity, huh? ;)
Anyhow, I didn't think about it at all on Saturday except to ask God to take it again. Sunday morning, I did the same thing. I happened to mention the rental situation to a friend at church yesterday. God must have inspired me to tell her, cause I wasn't planning on doing so. Anyhow, she stopped by my work later on that day to ask me if I would move in with her; she and her fiance didn't want her to live by herself or me to live by myself; we could split rent and utilities, which would make things MUCH easier on both of us financially.
I never even thought that something like that would happen, and it just fell into my hands.
I am walking on air. Letting go and letting God really does work!! Step Three was suddenly very, very easy; if He could accomplish this, surely He could do much better than I have been doing!
So, God, here is my will and my life. Take them, and do with them whatever You want!

Never Forget

United 93

First of all, to my readers (all three of them, LOL), I have not dropped off the face of the earth. I would encourage anyone who would be critical of my lack of contact to go to college full time while working 30+ hours/week. Did I mention my B average? ;) (gets off her defensive soapbox)
Anyhow, regarding United 93: See it.
I am not, as a rule, a person who cries terribly easily. I didn't cry on 9-11. Of course, some of my family-based issues are responsible for that, as well as my not crying at all for a couple of years. Many long stories there, which I will probably not go into on this blog.
I saw United 93 last night, and I bawled my eyes out.
Anyone who thinks that Islam is a "religion of peace," that we shouldn't be over in Afghanistan or Iraq and that we should allow Iran to continue their nuclear enrichment program should see this movie.
Anyone who thinks that America had this coming because we stand by Israel should see this movie.
Anyone who thinks that the American spirit is something to be mocked, snubbed or laughed at should see this movie.
And, finally, anyone who thinks that it is a good idea to ignore the fact that 9-11 HAPPENED because it is hard or painful should see this movie.
This movie has not come out "too soon." As Dr. Laura said today (and she was crying over the air while reading a letter about it), you can't ignore a suspicious lump because it is "too soon." If that lump is cancer, it will eventually kill you whether or not you pay attention to it. You can't ignore the fact that these Muslims hated us so much that they killed three thousand innocent civilians. It happened, and I hope and pray that we as a country never, ever forget.
Every high schooler, every college student, every teacher, professor, citizen, and soldier should see this movie. It happened. Our glossing over of the facts will not make them go away.
God bless America, and may He always bless us with the kind of men and women who would not go quietly into the night, but were willing to fight back with their flatware, fire extinguishers and bare hands to keep these monsters from killing hundreds more innocent civilians.

Joke, huh?

Suspect: Church Fires Started As "Joke"
Three Birmimgham College Students Arrested, Charged

Source: http://www.cnn.com/2006/LAW/03/08/alabama.churches/index.html
BIRMINGHAM, Alabama (CNN) -- Three Birmingham college students were arrested and charged Wednesday in connection with a string of Alabama church fires that is described in court papers as a joke that "got out of hand," authorities said.
The students -- Ben Moseley and Russell DeBusk, both 19, and Matthew Lee Cloyd, 20 -- are suspected in nine of the 10 fires last month. Translation: 3 bored testosterone-driven morons with too much time on their hands thought it would be cool to burn down some churches.
The suspects were held on federal charges of conspiracy and setting fire to Ashby Baptist Church in Bibb County. In court filings, all three admitted being involved in the arson fires. No one was injured in any of the blazes. No thanks to these soon-to-be felons.
U.S. Attorney Alice Martin said further charges are possible and that, if convicted, the students would face minimum sentences of five years for each count. So they traded one night of practical "joking" for a minimum of forty-five years in prison if convicted. Brilliant.
Authorities will seek indictments from a federal grand jury "in due course," she said.
"It's a good day when we can tell the people of Alabama that we believe this is an isolated instance," Alabama Gov. Bob Riley said.
All nine fires occurred in rural counties southwest of Birmingham -- five in Bibb County on February 3, and four in Greene, Sumter and Pickens counties on February 7. Five of the churches had predominantly black congregations, and four had predominantly white members. (See map)
No one has been arrested in connection with a 10th fire, set February 11 at a mostly white Lamar County church.
"We don't think that there is any type of conspiracy against organized religion or against the Baptists or against religious beliefs in particular," Riley said. "I think that, today, Alabama and all of the faith-based community in this state can rest a little easier."
Moseley and DeBusk are both sophomores at Birmingham-Southern College, which is affiliated with the United Methodist Church. They made initial appearances Wednesday morning in a federal court in Birmingham.
All three face a bond hearing Friday in a federal court in Birmingham. (Watch one of the suspects after he was arrested at a college dorm -- 1:12)
DeBusk's lawyer, Donald Colee, had no immediate comment. Tommy Spina, the attorney for Cloyd, said "Where we are headed with this case, I do not know." You are headed for another loss on your record. Trust me on that one.
Efforts to reach lawyers for Moseley were unsuccessful. What lawyer in his right mind (oxymoron there) would admit in public to representing this clown?
'Diversion did not work'
Birmingham-Southern President David Pollick said the students have been suspended and barred from campus since their arrest. He pledged that Birmingham-Southern will help rebuild the churches "both financially and in terms of our own labor."
"The students, faculty and staff of our college are at once shocked and outraged, and we share the sorrow of our neighbors whose churches represented the heart and souls of their communities," he said.
Cloyd, who attends the University of Alabama at Birmingham, was taken into custody later in the day, federal law enforcement sources said.
UAB spokesman Gary Mans said Cloyd was a junior who transferred to the university in fall 2005 and lived off-campus. He would not disclose Cloyd's field of study or any disciplinary action, citing federal privacy laws.
According to court papers released Wednesday, Cloyd told a witness that he and Moseley "had done something stupid." Ya think?!
"Cloyd stated to the witness that Moseley did it as a joke (Hysterical. I'm rolling on the floor laughing here) and it got out of hand," an affidavit in the case states. "Cloyd stated that they set a church on fire."
Moseley and DeBusk admitted involvement in the fires, as well, the affidavit states. DeBusk said he was at the scene of the fires in Bibb County, where the three had been deer hunting the first weekend of February, and kicked in the door of two churches that later were set ablaze. (Watch churches reduced to smoldering embers -- 2:17)
Moseley told investigators that he and Cloyd set the other four fires "as a diversion to throw investigators off," the affidavit states. When questioned by investigators, "Moseley said the diversion obviously did not work." No sh*t, Sherlock.
None of the three has a previous criminal record, said Richard Montgomery, Alabama's state fire marshal. Well, I suppose everyone has to start somewhere.
DeBusk is a theater major at Birmingham-Southern, while Moseley's major was undeclared, college officials said. Mark Doll, a Birmingham-Southern sophomore who said he plays in a band with Moseley, told CNN he never heard Moseley speak of religion.
"There was nothing that we can see that would lead us to think he would do something like this," he said. What, he never said, "My buddies and I are going to burn down nine Baptist churches?" Would that be obvious enough for you?
Pollick said he met with Birmingham-Southern students Wednesday afternoon and said they are determined to repair a reputation they said was "tarnished" by their classmates' arrests.
He said students, faculty and staff now feel connected to the communities "in a way that we didn't, in all honesty, yesterday." Oh, I'm touched. You still admitted these arsonists to your school.
"The one thing we are certain of is that this is a place where we belong," he said. "This is a place where we should extend our muscles and our resources and help seek out more resources."
Tire treads tip off investigators
Officials said the arrests were the result of good police work by a task force of about 250 state, federal and local law enforcement officers.
Investigators had said they were looking for a dark-colored sport-utility vehicle that had been seen at the burned churches. According to the affidavit, tread marks left at the scene of four fires matched a rarely purchased set of all-terrain tires. Clearly the three arsonists never watch CSI or any sort of forensics show. That would probably require far too much intellectual ability.
Investigators tracked a set of those tires from a tire shop in the Birmingham suburb of Pelham to a green Toyota 4Runner registered to Cloyd's mother. She told agents from the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives that her son was the vehicle's primary driver, the affidavit states. Note to scumbags: If you are going to burn down nine churches, don't be stupid enough to buy rare tires that leave tire tread marks at the scene.
That was one of about 1,000 leads involving 500 vehicles and about 1,300 people that investigators chased down over the past month, ATF spokesman Jim Cavanaugh said.
"We just pushed and pushed and pushed until we could make the break," Cavanaugh said.
CNN's Rusty Dornin, David Mattingly, Mike Phelan and Susan Walsh contributed to this report.


What is wrong with society that three college students would consider it a "joke that got out of hand" to burn down nine churches?
Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's the lack of moral standards, the refusal of public institutions to impose any sort of restrictions on society, the parents who are never around and expect daycares and schools to raise their kids...the list goes on and on.