Mack Hall
That Long and Nazi Road
The Nazi Party of Colorado has adopted a mile of US Highway 85 to keep tidy.
Yes, when you think of community service and good citizenship you naturally think of National Socialists.
The State of Colorado is, for some reason, unhappy with this sorry little herd of sh…um, civic-minded citizens, but the nation that the Nazis would destroy protects even Nazis, and so the Colorado Department of Transportation was required to license the leather-boys to care for a mile of American right-of-way.
Perhaps the Nazis are situated between the NAMBLA and ACORN sections, giving the American people three miles of litter-free but still malodorous highway.
One hopes the Nazis won’t be afraid to pick up food wrappers with Kosher symbols on them. And Wotan alone knows how they would react to a discarded Manischewitz bottle.
The Nazis could mark their section of highway by erecting little “Arbeit Macht Frei” signs at each end, and when they are actually out doing something other than beating up people could post another sign reading “Ubermenschen Working.”
How do Nazis pick up litter? After all, their record is of making messes, not cleaning them up, and the concept of tidiness may be unfamiliar to them. Can a comrade simultaneously goose-step and poke a soda-can with one of those little sticks with a nail in it? Does the stick have one of those swishtika flags attached? Do the neat Nazis sing The Discarded Vessel Song while marching along with their garbage bags? Other jolly marching songs could include “Nazi Road, Take Me Home,” “That Long and Nazi Road,” “Long, Long Nazi Road,” “Rocky Mountain Heil,” and “Heil the Hitler and Pass the Trash.”
At last report, however, the local Nazis hadn’t actually picked up anything. Possibly they were delayed by beating up some small, inoffensive person. Or perhaps they were waiting for a congratulatory message and an “Im Rollen Vor in Colorado” signal from Mel Gibson. They couldn’t access it, of course, because no Nazi would own a Blackberry.
Nazis cleaning up the roads will doubtless cause folks driving by to think better of them.
“Gosh, Martha, just look at all those Nazi lads picking up litter. Kinda makes ya rethink that invasion of Norway thing, eh?”
“You’re so right, George. I always said that Vidkun Quisling got a raw deal. He had a rough childhood, you know. Such a sensitive boy.”
“You know, Martha, just seeing the local Ubergollyshakennotstirredwhatsisfuhrer supervising trash suggests to me that Auschwitz was taken out of context.”
“Yes, dear, this matter of the local Nazis cleaning up the highways and byways of our great land has changed my thinking completely. There’s nothing like a thirty-second show of public service in front of the cameras to change completely seventy years of well-documented history. Stop the car, George; I’m going to give those boys a cookie and a hug.”
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A Cookie and a Hug for the Nazis?
Mack Hall
That Long and Nazi Road
The Nazi Party of Colorado has adopted a mile of US Highway 85 to keep tidy.
Yes, when you think of community service and good citizenship you naturally think of National Socialists.
The State of Colorado is, for some reason, unhappy with this sorry little herd of sh…um, civic-minded citizens, but the nation that the Nazis would destroy protects even Nazis, and so the Colorado Department of Transportation was required to license the leather-boys to care for a mile of American right-of-way.
Perhaps the Nazis are situated between the NAMBLA and ACORN sections, giving the American people three miles of litter-free but still malodorous highway.
One hopes the Nazis won’t be afraid to pick up food wrappers with Kosher symbols on them. And Wotan alone knows how they would react to a discarded Manischewitz bottle.
The Nazis could mark their section of highway by erecting little “Arbeit Macht Frei” signs at each end, and when they are actually out doing something other than beating up people could post another sign reading “Ubermenschen Working.”
How do Nazis pick up litter? After all, their record is of making messes, not cleaning them up, and the concept of tidiness may be unfamiliar to them. Can a comrade simultaneously goose-step and poke a soda-can with one of those little sticks with a nail in it? Does the stick have one of those swishtika flags attached? Do the neat Nazis sing The Discarded Vessel Song while marching along with their garbage bags? Other jolly marching songs could include “Nazi Road, Take Me Home,” “That Long and Nazi Road,” “Long, Long Nazi Road,” “Rocky Mountain Heil,” and “Heil the Hitler and Pass the Trash.”
At last report, however, the local Nazis hadn’t actually picked up anything. Possibly they were delayed by beating up some small, inoffensive person. Or perhaps they were waiting for a congratulatory message and an “Im Rollen Vor in Colorado” signal from Mel Gibson. They couldn’t access it, of course, because no Nazi would own a Blackberry.
Nazis cleaning up the roads will doubtless cause folks driving by to think better of them.
“Gosh, Martha, just look at all those Nazi lads picking up litter. Kinda makes ya rethink that invasion of Norway thing, eh?”
“You’re so right, George. I always said that Vidkun Quisling got a raw deal. He had a rough childhood, you know. Such a sensitive boy.”
“You know, Martha, just seeing the local Ubergollyshakennotstirredwhatsisfuhrer supervising trash suggests to me that Auschwitz was taken out of context.”
“Yes, dear, this matter of the local Nazis cleaning up the highways and byways of our great land has changed my thinking completely. There’s nothing like a thirty-second show of public service in front of the cameras to change completely seventy years of well-documented history. Stop the car, George; I’m going to give those boys a cookie and a hug.”
That Long and Nazi Road
The Nazi Party of Colorado has adopted a mile of US Highway 85 to keep tidy.
Yes, when you think of community service and good citizenship you naturally think of National Socialists.
The State of Colorado is, for some reason, unhappy with this sorry little herd of sh…um, civic-minded citizens, but the nation that the Nazis would destroy protects even Nazis, and so the Colorado Department of Transportation was required to license the leather-boys to care for a mile of American right-of-way.
Perhaps the Nazis are situated between the NAMBLA and ACORN sections, giving the American people three miles of litter-free but still malodorous highway.
One hopes the Nazis won’t be afraid to pick up food wrappers with Kosher symbols on them. And Wotan alone knows how they would react to a discarded Manischewitz bottle.
The Nazis could mark their section of highway by erecting little “Arbeit Macht Frei” signs at each end, and when they are actually out doing something other than beating up people could post another sign reading “Ubermenschen Working.”
How do Nazis pick up litter? After all, their record is of making messes, not cleaning them up, and the concept of tidiness may be unfamiliar to them. Can a comrade simultaneously goose-step and poke a soda-can with one of those little sticks with a nail in it? Does the stick have one of those swishtika flags attached? Do the neat Nazis sing The Discarded Vessel Song while marching along with their garbage bags? Other jolly marching songs could include “Nazi Road, Take Me Home,” “That Long and Nazi Road,” “Long, Long Nazi Road,” “Rocky Mountain Heil,” and “Heil the Hitler and Pass the Trash.”
At last report, however, the local Nazis hadn’t actually picked up anything. Possibly they were delayed by beating up some small, inoffensive person. Or perhaps they were waiting for a congratulatory message and an “Im Rollen Vor in Colorado” signal from Mel Gibson. They couldn’t access it, of course, because no Nazi would own a Blackberry.
Nazis cleaning up the roads will doubtless cause folks driving by to think better of them.
“Gosh, Martha, just look at all those Nazi lads picking up litter. Kinda makes ya rethink that invasion of Norway thing, eh?”
“You’re so right, George. I always said that Vidkun Quisling got a raw deal. He had a rough childhood, you know. Such a sensitive boy.”
“You know, Martha, just seeing the local Ubergollyshakennotstirredwhatsisfuhrer supervising trash suggests to me that Auschwitz was taken out of context.”
“Yes, dear, this matter of the local Nazis cleaning up the highways and byways of our great land has changed my thinking completely. There’s nothing like a thirty-second show of public service in front of the cameras to change completely seventy years of well-documented history. Stop the car, George; I’m going to give those boys a cookie and a hug.”
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Hapsburgs in Space
Mack Hall
For Blessed Karl I
Time is a trap for those who will not hear
The silver hymns soft-sighed among the stars,
Or invisible winds whispering truth
Among the conspiratorial pines.1
The moon prays perfectly her ancient dance
Between our planet’s orbit and the sun’s,
Stern2 orbit over orbit, neatly planned,
Layered within each other flawlessly.
And all of these speak of eternity,
And freedom in humility, the truth;
To violate this Order of the Star Is to enslave the selfish self in chains.
Because
The universe is not an accident,
Or fantasy of fact-filled-fevered brains;
It flows beyond all sunsets and all dawns,
Beyond the constructs of constructedness.
To grasp the Golden Chain3 is then to lose
One’s chains, to sail beyond pale time and find,
Transcending all dimensionality,
The Crown4, the Cup5, the Altar6, and the Star7.
1 Pine trees always seem to be up to something
2 In the sense of precise
3 An allusion to Aquinas’ Catena Aurea
4 The Hapsburg crown, symbolizing earthly hierarchy, and God, symbolizing eternal hierarchy
5. Holy Communion
6. Where time and eternity meet in the actions of the priest
7 The Star of Bethlehem, and beyond
For Blessed Karl I
Time is a trap for those who will not hear
The silver hymns soft-sighed among the stars,
Or invisible winds whispering truth
Among the conspiratorial pines.1
The moon prays perfectly her ancient dance
Between our planet’s orbit and the sun’s,
Stern2 orbit over orbit, neatly planned,
Layered within each other flawlessly.
And all of these speak of eternity,
And freedom in humility, the truth;
To violate this Order of the Star Is to enslave the selfish self in chains.
Because
The universe is not an accident,
Or fantasy of fact-filled-fevered brains;
It flows beyond all sunsets and all dawns,
Beyond the constructs of constructedness.
To grasp the Golden Chain3 is then to lose
One’s chains, to sail beyond pale time and find,
Transcending all dimensionality,
The Crown4, the Cup5, the Altar6, and the Star7.
1 Pine trees always seem to be up to something
2 In the sense of precise
3 An allusion to Aquinas’ Catena Aurea
4 The Hapsburg crown, symbolizing earthly hierarchy, and God, symbolizing eternal hierarchy
5. Holy Communion
6. Where time and eternity meet in the actions of the priest
7 The Star of Bethlehem, and beyond
New Sayings from the Old West
Mack Hall
Cinema, like jazz, is an art form that originates in America, and America’s optimistic view of herself is best shown in western films. Actors as different in their political views as John Wayne and Gregory Peck found common ground in their depictions of western heroes to demonstrate their love of country.
The shabby revisionist westerns of the 1960s are rightly ignored now, and new generations celebrate America and the themes of love, loyalty, and community with the great films of the 1930s, 40s, and 50s. A few lonely producers still make good western films (Broken Trail comes to mind) about imperfect men and women finding the best in themselves in hard times, and this gives us hope for the future of the art of film.
But imagine the dialogue in films had the good old movies been made as 1960’s cynicism and anti-heroism:
“He’ll do to ride the river with.” / “He’ll do to work out at the health and wellness center with.”
“We all fought in the war, Colonel.” / “We all protested America’s evil, fascistic, imperial wars, you militaristic oppressor!”
“Gimme a beer, barkeep.” / “Construct me a double-decaf-latte-cinnamon-swish, barista.”
“Whatever else the young man is, he’s a fine judge of horseflesh.” / “Whatever else the young person is, they’re a fine judge of postwar Bulgarian existentialist cinema.”
“Outlaws!” / “Marginalized and dispossessed agricultural workers with revisionist attitudes towards property rights!”
“Injuns!” / “Native Americans with anger-management issues!”
“Cantankerous old mule!” / “Quasi-domesticated quadrupedal service animal!”
“Senor, we have the finest baths between Mexico City and New Orleans.” / “Senor, we feature an exclusive half-day spa experience with all-natural scented candles, a licensed masseur, and a complimentary selection of herbal teas.”
“Circle the wagons!” / “Valet parking!”
“Boots and saddles!” / “Designer flip-flops and Corinthian leather seats!”
“She’s a purty little filly.” / “She just filed sexism charges on me.”
“Fill your hand, you (ess of a bee)!” / “I’m referring this confrontation to the arbitrator for resolution.”
“They’ve holed up in that old church at the end of the street.” / “They’ve sought refuge in Swami Abbub’s ashram on HeatherWood Lane.”
“I’m ridin’ shotgun.” / “I’m ridin’ pepper spray.”
“Your fault. My fault. Nobody’s fault. If that boy gets hurt I’m gonna kill you.” / “Free to be you and me.”
“Check your guns at the edge of town.” / “Kindly switch off all cell ‘phones and other electronic devices.”
“I need a grubstake.” / “I’m giving you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to invest in gold.”
“Sorry, son, that leg’s got to come off.” / “But because of the medical lawsuits I have to leave you alone and let you die.”
“Ol’ Doc Boone’s a drunk.” / “Senor citizen Doctor Boone suffers chemical-dependence issues.”
“Ain’t nothin’ prettier than the desert cactus in bloom in early spring.” / “Did you remember my allergy medications?”
“Hank, where are your spurs?” / “Hank, where are the keys to your Toyota?”
“Hand over that strongbox or we’ll shoot.” / “Hand over those pretty shoes with the checkmark on ‘em or we’ll shoot.”
“All aboard for Lordsburg!” / “But first we have to wand all of you and strip-search Grandma.”
“Bugler, sound the charge.” / “Bugler, twitter Washington for permission for us to defend ourselves.”
“Chester, I’m going over to the Longbranch Saloon.” / “Chester, I’m off for my two o’clock encounter group.”
And finally, an old cowboy, a figure perhaps of John Wayne, rides with his son to a ridge overlooking a valley:
“Son, see that old Spanish church? Someday, someone will bulldoze it flat and replace it with a mosque. And over there where those deer are grazing will be a mucho grande gas station selling made-in-China western souvenirs. The trailer park will be over there where those 100-year-old cacti are now, and a motel will cover the Indian burial grounds. The Old West is passing.”
“Dad, where will they put the shopping mall? I need a new pair of knee-pants, and a tee-shirt with somebody else’s name on it, and the new Monster-Kill-Kill game.”
-30-
Cinema, like jazz, is an art form that originates in America, and America’s optimistic view of herself is best shown in western films. Actors as different in their political views as John Wayne and Gregory Peck found common ground in their depictions of western heroes to demonstrate their love of country.
The shabby revisionist westerns of the 1960s are rightly ignored now, and new generations celebrate America and the themes of love, loyalty, and community with the great films of the 1930s, 40s, and 50s. A few lonely producers still make good western films (Broken Trail comes to mind) about imperfect men and women finding the best in themselves in hard times, and this gives us hope for the future of the art of film.
But imagine the dialogue in films had the good old movies been made as 1960’s cynicism and anti-heroism:
“He’ll do to ride the river with.” / “He’ll do to work out at the health and wellness center with.”
“We all fought in the war, Colonel.” / “We all protested America’s evil, fascistic, imperial wars, you militaristic oppressor!”
“Gimme a beer, barkeep.” / “Construct me a double-decaf-latte-cinnamon-swish, barista.”
“Whatever else the young man is, he’s a fine judge of horseflesh.” / “Whatever else the young person is, they’re a fine judge of postwar Bulgarian existentialist cinema.”
“Outlaws!” / “Marginalized and dispossessed agricultural workers with revisionist attitudes towards property rights!”
“Injuns!” / “Native Americans with anger-management issues!”
“Cantankerous old mule!” / “Quasi-domesticated quadrupedal service animal!”
“Senor, we have the finest baths between Mexico City and New Orleans.” / “Senor, we feature an exclusive half-day spa experience with all-natural scented candles, a licensed masseur, and a complimentary selection of herbal teas.”
“Circle the wagons!” / “Valet parking!”
“Boots and saddles!” / “Designer flip-flops and Corinthian leather seats!”
“She’s a purty little filly.” / “She just filed sexism charges on me.”
“Fill your hand, you (ess of a bee)!” / “I’m referring this confrontation to the arbitrator for resolution.”
“They’ve holed up in that old church at the end of the street.” / “They’ve sought refuge in Swami Abbub’s ashram on HeatherWood Lane.”
“I’m ridin’ shotgun.” / “I’m ridin’ pepper spray.”
“Your fault. My fault. Nobody’s fault. If that boy gets hurt I’m gonna kill you.” / “Free to be you and me.”
“Check your guns at the edge of town.” / “Kindly switch off all cell ‘phones and other electronic devices.”
“I need a grubstake.” / “I’m giving you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to invest in gold.”
“Sorry, son, that leg’s got to come off.” / “But because of the medical lawsuits I have to leave you alone and let you die.”
“Ol’ Doc Boone’s a drunk.” / “Senor citizen Doctor Boone suffers chemical-dependence issues.”
“Ain’t nothin’ prettier than the desert cactus in bloom in early spring.” / “Did you remember my allergy medications?”
“Hank, where are your spurs?” / “Hank, where are the keys to your Toyota?”
“Hand over that strongbox or we’ll shoot.” / “Hand over those pretty shoes with the checkmark on ‘em or we’ll shoot.”
“All aboard for Lordsburg!” / “But first we have to wand all of you and strip-search Grandma.”
“Bugler, sound the charge.” / “Bugler, twitter Washington for permission for us to defend ourselves.”
“Chester, I’m going over to the Longbranch Saloon.” / “Chester, I’m off for my two o’clock encounter group.”
And finally, an old cowboy, a figure perhaps of John Wayne, rides with his son to a ridge overlooking a valley:
“Son, see that old Spanish church? Someday, someone will bulldoze it flat and replace it with a mosque. And over there where those deer are grazing will be a mucho grande gas station selling made-in-China western souvenirs. The trailer park will be over there where those 100-year-old cacti are now, and a motel will cover the Indian burial grounds. The Old West is passing.”
“Dad, where will they put the shopping mall? I need a new pair of knee-pants, and a tee-shirt with somebody else’s name on it, and the new Monster-Kill-Kill game.”
-30-
Sunday, January 17, 2010
If They Told us the Truth
Mack Hall
You are not a valued customer.
Your telephone call is not important to us; if it were, a human would be talking to you.
This is just a few ounces of coffee pretending to be a pound. We don’t give a hamster’s heinie about the poor farmers who grow it; we just stick on labels about “green” and “fair trade” and charge you more so you can feel good about being sensitive and ecological and, like, y’know, stuff.
We at (name of tractor company goes here) don’t make the name-brand tee-shirts and plastic cups and all that other junk you buy; we make tractors. Chinese companies, all ultimately controlled by the Red Chinese Army, pay us to use our name on their shoddy wares so you can wear a funny-looking hat and identify with a corporation that wouldn’t care squash about you if it even knew you existed.
Well, yeah, we can paint one of our cars green for you. Otherwise, there ain’t no green cars. Cars are four-wheeled machines that run on gasoline or electricity. Some are more efficient that others.
I’m not really the doctor of democracy; I dropped out of college, avoided military service, didn’t vote until I was in my thirties, and got away with doctor-shopping prescription drugs because I’m rich. And I got rich telling you how to live. You know, if you think about it, and you won’t, the only difference between me and the coffee shop windbag know-it-all is that I pass gas on the radio instead of at the front table.
This organic material is not farm fresh. You bought it out of a store. It was brought to the store in a truck. It was stored somewhere before that. It was shipped to that somewhere from a processing plant. It spent some time in a processing plant. It was shipped to the processing plant from where it was harvested or slaughtered. We print this lie all the time, you know it’s a lie, and you aren’t offended by the lie. Curious.
Nothing in this café or store was homemade. A café or store is not a home. If you want something homemade, go home and make it.
Made in China by underpaid workers who have no rights, no safety protection, no health insurance, no nothin’. Hey, we’re the folks who poison your pets and your children, and you keep buying from us.
We guarantee (that there is a three-dimensional object in this box you’re buying from us. Whether or not it is useful, aesthetically pleasing, or well-made has nothing to do with us.).
Unlimited usage (until you reach the limit).
Faster than dial-up (except when it isn’t).
You pay us to wear our advertising, demonstrating that you have no sense of self. We love it. In a sane world we would pay you to wear our advertising, and your friends would pity you for doing so.
Our product has a low carbon footprint. Come to think of it, nothing on this planet actually has a carbon footprint at all. How dumb are you to believe our advertising about low carbon footprints, huh?
News alert – which is only the same stuff we’ve been telling you all week.
I have no intention of changing the culture in Washington. If you elect me, I will become inside-the-beltway just like everyone else who goes there. Now buy my book, don’t do any critical thinking, be true believers, assemble in large groups to chant and wave, and feed my ego with your adoration.
It’s the must-see movie of the year – and if we tell you that you must see it, you must obey.
User-friendly – hahahahahahahahhahahahahaaaaaaaa!
You are not a valued customer.
Your telephone call is not important to us; if it were, a human would be talking to you.
This is just a few ounces of coffee pretending to be a pound. We don’t give a hamster’s heinie about the poor farmers who grow it; we just stick on labels about “green” and “fair trade” and charge you more so you can feel good about being sensitive and ecological and, like, y’know, stuff.
We at (name of tractor company goes here) don’t make the name-brand tee-shirts and plastic cups and all that other junk you buy; we make tractors. Chinese companies, all ultimately controlled by the Red Chinese Army, pay us to use our name on their shoddy wares so you can wear a funny-looking hat and identify with a corporation that wouldn’t care squash about you if it even knew you existed.
Well, yeah, we can paint one of our cars green for you. Otherwise, there ain’t no green cars. Cars are four-wheeled machines that run on gasoline or electricity. Some are more efficient that others.
I’m not really the doctor of democracy; I dropped out of college, avoided military service, didn’t vote until I was in my thirties, and got away with doctor-shopping prescription drugs because I’m rich. And I got rich telling you how to live. You know, if you think about it, and you won’t, the only difference between me and the coffee shop windbag know-it-all is that I pass gas on the radio instead of at the front table.
This organic material is not farm fresh. You bought it out of a store. It was brought to the store in a truck. It was stored somewhere before that. It was shipped to that somewhere from a processing plant. It spent some time in a processing plant. It was shipped to the processing plant from where it was harvested or slaughtered. We print this lie all the time, you know it’s a lie, and you aren’t offended by the lie. Curious.
Nothing in this café or store was homemade. A café or store is not a home. If you want something homemade, go home and make it.
Made in China by underpaid workers who have no rights, no safety protection, no health insurance, no nothin’. Hey, we’re the folks who poison your pets and your children, and you keep buying from us.
We guarantee (that there is a three-dimensional object in this box you’re buying from us. Whether or not it is useful, aesthetically pleasing, or well-made has nothing to do with us.).
Unlimited usage (until you reach the limit).
Faster than dial-up (except when it isn’t).
You pay us to wear our advertising, demonstrating that you have no sense of self. We love it. In a sane world we would pay you to wear our advertising, and your friends would pity you for doing so.
Our product has a low carbon footprint. Come to think of it, nothing on this planet actually has a carbon footprint at all. How dumb are you to believe our advertising about low carbon footprints, huh?
News alert – which is only the same stuff we’ve been telling you all week.
I have no intention of changing the culture in Washington. If you elect me, I will become inside-the-beltway just like everyone else who goes there. Now buy my book, don’t do any critical thinking, be true believers, assemble in large groups to chant and wave, and feed my ego with your adoration.
It’s the must-see movie of the year – and if we tell you that you must see it, you must obey.
User-friendly – hahahahahahahahhahahahahaaaaaaaa!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
What to Name Your Pet or Human
Mack Hall
Ashley Sanders, one of the many fine writers at The Beaumont Enterprise, posted in her Sunday column a list of the top ten pet names according to an organization called Veterinary Pet Insurance. For dogs, those are:
1. Bella
2. Max
3. Bailey
4. Lucy
5. Molly
6. Buddy
7. Maggie
8. Daisy
9. Chloe
10. Sophie
What strikes the perceptive reader is that the top ten dog names are almost as Christian as the top ten human names.
Bella, meaning beautiful, appears as the prefix Bel in many saints’ names. Max, for Maximus, Maximian, and Maximilian, is popular in both Roman and Greek hagiography, and Bailey, Old English for bailiff, appears in several English and Bretagne saints’ names and as the middle name of St. Elizabeth Seton. Lucy (Bringer of Light) is the happy name of many saints all over Europe and the Mediterranean, Molly is a diminutive of Mary just as Maggie is of Margaret, and Daisy, the day’s eye flower in Old English, is also another name for Margaret since in France the daisy is called the marguerite. Even Buddy enjoys a Christian connection; in Old English it means messenger / friend / brother, and is associated with the Twelve Brothers of Carthage, Africans who were martyred for their Christian faith. Chloe is Greek for young growth and is not in itself a saint’s name but the root Chlo / Clo appears often. There are many saints named Sophie / Sophia, Greek for wisdom, and the mother church of Orthodoxy, profaned by the Turks from 1453 until the present day, is named Hagia Sophia, meaning Holy Wisdom. (Sheehan, Dictionary of Patron Saints’ Names)
Now that we have dismissed the doggies, let us consider the top ten baby names of 2009 according to Babyfirstyear.org:
Girls:
Ella
Grace
Emma
Elizabeth
Lorelei
Riley
Rory
Isabella
Chloe
Anna
Boys:
Aiden
Jayden
Dylan
James
Gavin
Benjamin
Caleb
Nathan
Jack
Andrew
All these names except one enjoy a Christian or Jewish origin, reversing a generation-old trend of labeling children after soap opera characters, geographical features, or simply noises that sounded good to the young parents. God help the child whose parents thought “Urk” made a nice sound. Well, when he comes of age he can change Urk for a real name.
One kinda worries about Lorelei, though.
-30-
Ashley Sanders, one of the many fine writers at The Beaumont Enterprise, posted in her Sunday column a list of the top ten pet names according to an organization called Veterinary Pet Insurance. For dogs, those are:
1. Bella
2. Max
3. Bailey
4. Lucy
5. Molly
6. Buddy
7. Maggie
8. Daisy
9. Chloe
10. Sophie
What strikes the perceptive reader is that the top ten dog names are almost as Christian as the top ten human names.
Bella, meaning beautiful, appears as the prefix Bel in many saints’ names. Max, for Maximus, Maximian, and Maximilian, is popular in both Roman and Greek hagiography, and Bailey, Old English for bailiff, appears in several English and Bretagne saints’ names and as the middle name of St. Elizabeth Seton. Lucy (Bringer of Light) is the happy name of many saints all over Europe and the Mediterranean, Molly is a diminutive of Mary just as Maggie is of Margaret, and Daisy, the day’s eye flower in Old English, is also another name for Margaret since in France the daisy is called the marguerite. Even Buddy enjoys a Christian connection; in Old English it means messenger / friend / brother, and is associated with the Twelve Brothers of Carthage, Africans who were martyred for their Christian faith. Chloe is Greek for young growth and is not in itself a saint’s name but the root Chlo / Clo appears often. There are many saints named Sophie / Sophia, Greek for wisdom, and the mother church of Orthodoxy, profaned by the Turks from 1453 until the present day, is named Hagia Sophia, meaning Holy Wisdom. (Sheehan, Dictionary of Patron Saints’ Names)
Now that we have dismissed the doggies, let us consider the top ten baby names of 2009 according to Babyfirstyear.org:
Girls:
Ella
Grace
Emma
Elizabeth
Lorelei
Riley
Rory
Isabella
Chloe
Anna
Boys:
Aiden
Jayden
Dylan
James
Gavin
Benjamin
Caleb
Nathan
Jack
Andrew
All these names except one enjoy a Christian or Jewish origin, reversing a generation-old trend of labeling children after soap opera characters, geographical features, or simply noises that sounded good to the young parents. God help the child whose parents thought “Urk” made a nice sound. Well, when he comes of age he can change Urk for a real name.
One kinda worries about Lorelei, though.
-30-
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Great Work -- Now Go Away
Mack Hall
Last fall a Navy commando unit in a brilliant operation captured a notorious terrorist alive. Alive. But the terrorist later said that the sailors socked him during the confrontation and gave him a fat lip, and now the sailors are being court-martialed. So will the Japanese government now sue World War II veterans for hurting Generalissimo Tojo’s feelings? Will Grandpa be yanked off his rocking chair and sent to jail because he once said something rude about Adolf Hitler during the Battle of the Bulge?
More recently a police officer in a city far, far away was suspended with pay after he fired his pistol at a man who was threatening people, including the officer, with a knife. In such matters one would think that the suspension would be for the sake of the officer, for a good man does come away from such a matter the same man who went into it. But the matter always seems to project as a suspicion of the officer, and the dreary electronic comments from the sort of people who take their ideology from street corners and their grammar from twitting support this grim conclusion. Folks want to be protected but then they sideline-quarterback the protectors. As someone (the sources conflict) said, (Newark) hath no fury like a non-combatant.
The concept of suspending someone for doing his job does not obtain in most vocations. One does not imagine the head of surgery saying “Doctor Snorthbargle, you were simply brilliant today in saving the life of that emergency patient. You’re suspended until the medical board investigates you. Now go away.”
The supermarket manager does not call for an inquiry on little Siegfried the sack boy because the customers compliment him for his good work.
When a team wins a football game they are not sent home while a court determines whether or not they acted wisely in doing so.
Consider the possibility of a police officer observing a citizen driving carefully, following all state and local laws while operating a safe and well-maintained motor vehicle. The officer arrests the citizen and brings him before a justice of the peace who rules: “Citizen Jones, you were seen driving in a prudent fashion. Your license is suspended while I refer your case to the grand jury. I am impounding your car. You may have one telephone call to send for someone to come and get you. You might want to tell that friend or relative to drive irresponsibly unless he too wants the full majesty of the law to come down on him like a ton of cliches’.”
What if Captain Smith had parked the Titanic for the night long, long ago? “Captain Smith, you brought the company’s newest ship and all her passengers and crew safely to New York. Until the Board of Trade considers this matter carefully, your master’s license is suspended.”
The judge summons Perry Mason to the bench. “Mr. Mason, you were wonderful today. You saved an innocent woman from the death penalty and you helped the police find the real murderer. You represent everything that is true and noble in the legal profession. Your license to practice law is suspended until further notice, and the bailiff will now escort you to your cell.”
On a fine autumn day several liberal arts graduates from the United States Department of Agriculture descend upon Farmer Brown with briefcases full of legal documents. “Farmer Brown, you raised fine crops of wheat and soy this year. You provided part-time employment for three transient laborers and for five high school kids during the haying season. You filled out all your government forms accurately, paid your taxes, demonstrated wise agricultural practices, and in all ways are an excellent man. Your livestock are well cared for and you are unfailingly considerate of your neighbors and the environment. Therefore, we must investigate you. During this investigation, which may take a year or two, you are forbidden to farm. This means you will lose the land that’s been in your family for generations, but don’t worry; it will make a nice parking lot for Giganto-Mart. Further, your federal government, for whom you voted, is in its infinite generosity giving you a discount on your monthly rental of a public-housing unit.”
These are humorous imaginings, but there are very real exceptions to the idea that the laborer is worth of his hire: the illogical ways the American people sometimes mishandle their own police and their own young men and women in the services.
-30-
Last fall a Navy commando unit in a brilliant operation captured a notorious terrorist alive. Alive. But the terrorist later said that the sailors socked him during the confrontation and gave him a fat lip, and now the sailors are being court-martialed. So will the Japanese government now sue World War II veterans for hurting Generalissimo Tojo’s feelings? Will Grandpa be yanked off his rocking chair and sent to jail because he once said something rude about Adolf Hitler during the Battle of the Bulge?
More recently a police officer in a city far, far away was suspended with pay after he fired his pistol at a man who was threatening people, including the officer, with a knife. In such matters one would think that the suspension would be for the sake of the officer, for a good man does come away from such a matter the same man who went into it. But the matter always seems to project as a suspicion of the officer, and the dreary electronic comments from the sort of people who take their ideology from street corners and their grammar from twitting support this grim conclusion. Folks want to be protected but then they sideline-quarterback the protectors. As someone (the sources conflict) said, (Newark) hath no fury like a non-combatant.
The concept of suspending someone for doing his job does not obtain in most vocations. One does not imagine the head of surgery saying “Doctor Snorthbargle, you were simply brilliant today in saving the life of that emergency patient. You’re suspended until the medical board investigates you. Now go away.”
The supermarket manager does not call for an inquiry on little Siegfried the sack boy because the customers compliment him for his good work.
When a team wins a football game they are not sent home while a court determines whether or not they acted wisely in doing so.
Consider the possibility of a police officer observing a citizen driving carefully, following all state and local laws while operating a safe and well-maintained motor vehicle. The officer arrests the citizen and brings him before a justice of the peace who rules: “Citizen Jones, you were seen driving in a prudent fashion. Your license is suspended while I refer your case to the grand jury. I am impounding your car. You may have one telephone call to send for someone to come and get you. You might want to tell that friend or relative to drive irresponsibly unless he too wants the full majesty of the law to come down on him like a ton of cliches’.”
What if Captain Smith had parked the Titanic for the night long, long ago? “Captain Smith, you brought the company’s newest ship and all her passengers and crew safely to New York. Until the Board of Trade considers this matter carefully, your master’s license is suspended.”
The judge summons Perry Mason to the bench. “Mr. Mason, you were wonderful today. You saved an innocent woman from the death penalty and you helped the police find the real murderer. You represent everything that is true and noble in the legal profession. Your license to practice law is suspended until further notice, and the bailiff will now escort you to your cell.”
On a fine autumn day several liberal arts graduates from the United States Department of Agriculture descend upon Farmer Brown with briefcases full of legal documents. “Farmer Brown, you raised fine crops of wheat and soy this year. You provided part-time employment for three transient laborers and for five high school kids during the haying season. You filled out all your government forms accurately, paid your taxes, demonstrated wise agricultural practices, and in all ways are an excellent man. Your livestock are well cared for and you are unfailingly considerate of your neighbors and the environment. Therefore, we must investigate you. During this investigation, which may take a year or two, you are forbidden to farm. This means you will lose the land that’s been in your family for generations, but don’t worry; it will make a nice parking lot for Giganto-Mart. Further, your federal government, for whom you voted, is in its infinite generosity giving you a discount on your monthly rental of a public-housing unit.”
These are humorous imaginings, but there are very real exceptions to the idea that the laborer is worth of his hire: the illogical ways the American people sometimes mishandle their own police and their own young men and women in the services.
-30-
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