[A quick translation for the feast today, from the "most Roman of Popes," whose Latin eloquentia shines through very strongly in the original. A very important document for understanding Late Antique Rome and the Papacy.]
Wednesday, June 29, 2022
Pope Leo I, Sermon 82 (for the Solemnity of Sts. Peter & Paul)
Monday, June 27, 2022
Column 06/27/22: Abortion, Infanticide, and the Hubris of Technological Modernity
Abortion, Infanticide, and the Hubris of Technological Modernity
For anyone living under a rock (or in a blessed state of not-following-the-news, which I highly recommend), this past Friday, June 24th, on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart and what would normally be the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist, the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, denying the presence of a Constitutional right to abortion and returning the issue of abortion regulation to the states.
The issue of abortion is in many ways a unique one in American politics; from its very beginning until now, it has cut across the typical lines of partisan affiliation and disrupted and forged ideological alliances almost at random. Starting out as a "Catholic issue"--one of a bevy of Eugenics-related progressive causes favored by almost every American social and religious group but bitterly opposed by Catholics--in short order it succeeded in breaking apart practically every existing political alliance that had defined American politics prior to the 1960s and forging (very unexpected) new ones. It would be difficult to overstate the potential of the present decision to alter American politics and aid in large-scale "realignment" of American coalitions, alliances, and ideologies.
I don't want to talk about any of that, though. What I instead want to talk about is what the abortion issue--and especially the terms in which it is debated--tells us about the society we live in and its underlying, broadly shared assumptions.
What is abortion?
Wednesday, June 22, 2022
Column 06/22/22: A Short Guide to Barefoot Walking
A Short Guide to Barefoot Walking
I do a lot of walking, and a lot of walking barefoot, regularly exploring roads, sidewalks, fields, and woods in this scandalous state of undress. When people learn this, they generally have some questions for me, questions like: why?
I have never really been able to answer this question, so here is an essay on the topic.
The simplest and probably most truthful answer to the question is that I've been doing it since I was a kid, when my brothers and I would spend summers on a cattle farm in rural Ohio, and I kept doing it when I got older because some of my brothers did too and I thought it was kinda cool and I don't know, it was something to do, you know?
In the eyes of the general public, though, barefoot walking has gained a great deal of mystique that is almost entirely unjustified. I promise that I do not walk barefoot to gain health benefits in regard to my posture, or because I want to be in closer touch with the Earth my mother. Barefoot running is supposedly good for you, and lots of people now wear barefoot-shoes to imitate the barefoot stride, but to be honest every time I've tried to run barefoot I've gotten horrible shinsplints. Go figure.
Still, I think the above qualifies this essay as CULTURALLY RELEVANT. So if you, dear reader, ever feel compelled to try to get into walking barefoot, here is a Guide to the topic, which mostly explains in great detail why you absolutely should not get into walking barefoot. It is divided into BULLET POINTS and STEPS, which are all out of order, and culminates in a mystical ramble on the nature of intelligence and divinity. I'm sorry.
Monday, June 13, 2022
Column 06/13/22: The Earth in Anarchy
The Earth in Anarchy
This is most likely the last thing I will ever write in this space on mass shootings.
This is not an issue I prefer to comment on for a very large number of reasons, the most emphatic of which is that it has become clear to me that it is precisely the writing and proclaiming and glorifying of such events that is most responsible for their continuation, as a virtually unique, imitative, mass-media-driven phenomenon. Mass shooters commit mass shootings first and foremost because they have heard and read about other mass shootings, have become deeply impressed by the cultural and social and political impact of such events, the fear and grief and anger they inspire, the iconic and symbolic nature of the killings, the manifestos and disaffection and claims and identities of the killers, and the deep, universally-acknowledged sense of meaningfulness about all the above, and so have decided to imitate them. The most directly impactful thing I, and probably most of you, can do to prevent mass shootings is to ignore them unless you are directly or indirectly affected by them. Even then, it is quite clear to me that the mass-media and political circus around such events deeply harms the actual victims of shootings, preventing them from grieving and moving forward by cynically channeling their grief into the news cycle. I have no desire to participate in any of the above, however remotely.
Nonetheless, in the current mass media landscape, such events as these are supposed to lead to conversations and policy debates about "gun control" and "gun violence." These conversations now commonly involve direct accusations of opponents being responsible for murder and the death of children, and lead, in practice, mostly to an increase in the generally violent valence of American society.
Despite the above cautions, probably for the only time, is my own contribution to this discourse. It will not be repeated.
I should perhaps repeat at the outset that I do not own a gun, have no desire to own a gun, and in fact possess a fairly strong personal aversion to firearms, which was perhaps inherited from my maternal grandfather, who despite owning a firearm as a practical necessity (in his career as a cattle farmer), had a strong aversion to guns and avoided using them as much as possible.
Wednesday, June 1, 2022
Column 06/01/22: City of Valleys
City of Valleys
I want to write something about the place where I was born.
Birmingham is the largest city in Alabama, but it is hard for me to think of it as a city at all. Here is a definition of a city: a place where the signs and efforts of human habitation have overwhelmed and defined the landscape. This is not what I feel when I am in Birmingham.
The people who built Birmingham were businessmen. Far from what was then considered civilization, it was discovered that the mountains contained iron ore. Railroads were built, and certain industrialists succeeded in getting them to intersect here, instead of somewhere else; and with an odd but characteristic mixture of simplicity and grand aspiration, they decided to name this conjunction for the greatest industrial city of the contemporary world.
Beginning as an aspirational Birmingham, England, it gradually transitioned into an aspirational Detroit, "the Steel City of the South." Now, the steel furnaces, mills, and factories that once darkened the sky have disappeared so entirely that it is difficult to believe they were ever there; and Birmingham has passed to presenting itself as an aspirational Atlanta.
All these urban and civilizational trappings sit lightly on Birmingham. When I am there, as I was recently, it is not these things of which I think.