From The Detroit News, Oct 27, 2004

I just found out that my current trip will be cut a little shorter, so I will get to watch election returns at home. The down side is that after 6 days in Michigan, I'll be back in St. Louis for two weeks. It makes me wonder why I gave up my St.L. apartment.

I was part of a dialogue about "choice" over on Open Book. I wanted to extract my remarks here, not because I was particularly eloquent, but because I was able to articulate my thoughts better than I often do.

My thoughts were in response to this commentary on the original post:

[By "The Americanist"] Psst.... "pro-choice" simply means the woman gets to decide. It doesn't mean women in comfortable shoes who think they're pagan goddesses. It doesn't mean sex without consequences. It doesn't mean that men are pigs -- nor paragons. It simply means that SHE gets to decide. Not the government. Not ... you guys. She does.

So long as the baby is inside her body -- and it is HER body -- the civic issue is: her body, her choice.

The less pro-life folks admit that as a simple fact, somehow found in the Consttution and upheld by the Supremes for 31 years, and continue t preclude its centrality to the argument (as the bishop did by excluding that most women actually CHOOSE to give birth), the more you alienate the very folks you want to persuade.

Here's what I posted:

[The Americanist said:] "So long as the baby is inside her body -- and it is HER body -- the civic issue is: her body, her choice.

There, straight out, is the arrogant fallacy.

My money, sitting on deposit in Joe's bank, is not Joe's money but mine. He is responsible to me for his stewardship. The owner of a beating heart inside me with a gene map different from my own is not me, and that being is not mine to dispose of. He or she is being held in a trust account for which stewardship I am responsible.

Accepting this is part of being a grown up."

And a little later, in a discussion about the term "pro-choice":

"A civilized society sometimes, when necessary, restricts the right to make particular choices when it is in the interest of society as a whole or those of its members not in a position to otherwise protect themselves. The use of "right to choose" when applied to whether or not to abort is a euphemistic label designed to eliminate the word "abortion" from discussion of the topic and should be acknowledged as such. "

In a nutshell, that's what I think.

When we were kids playing on Hobart St. and saw somebody geeky coming down the block, the cruel cry would go up: "No new joiners!"

I hope Red Sox fans don't feel the same way. I've always had a soft spot for your team, honest. There's a fraternal allegiance between Detroit and Boston - teams with real tradition, won nuthin' lately, etc. I really want to cheer for your guys, honest. Can I join? Please, please! To demonstrate my bona fides, may I point out that my initiation into baseball passion came as my beloved Tigers took it to those same St. Louis Cardinals in 1968. Ah, Al Kaline, my heart still belongs to you.

For a fun read about the Triumph of the Sox, click here.

Mind you, the Red Sox had to have a little help on their climb into the ranks of immortality. Welcome to real life, New York.

A friend tells me he considers any day a success when he can cause someone to laugh hard enough to involuntarily expectorate on his or her shirt. Well, the authors at the Shrine of the Holy Whapping have done it again with their short biography of St. Malachy O'Less who, "unlike his illustrious sibling [St. Malachy O'More], did not have the gift of prophesy, and instead forgot nearly everything that occurred to him in the past. As a consequence, he became famous as a great confessor." He may have been a writer, although "an epistle bearing his name that denounces Thomas Kinkade as a sign of the Apocalypse is thought to be apocryphal, as is another fragmentary prophecy which alleges the anti-Christ will come to earth in the form of a velvet painting of a crying clown. "

To top it off, the author responds to a commenter who is transferring his affections to St. Malachy from that great philosopher, Mediocrites. "Mediocrites...I love it! Author of "The Phido," about his dog, "The Apology," in which he says he's sorry for wasting so many people's time, and the "Nicotimachian Ethics," describing the moral ramifications of smoking. And then there was Barmenides, who owned a pub." (Matthew of the Holy Whapping.)

These are all Notre Dame students. When, exactly, do they study? And does it matter?

You are a neurotransmitter. You believe in the
good-naturedness of man's biology and soul.
You're happy, everyone's happy, and no one will
ever take that away from you. Or else you'll
make them go insane.

Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

"Stem cell research" and "embryonic stem cell research" are two different things. It's the second that raises serious moral and ethical concerns because of its use of aborted fetuses.

However, there's research underway that might lead to the medical benefits of embryonic stem cell treatments without the moral downside. If you or someone you know is pregnant, you/she might consider donating umbilical cord blood after delivery to support this research. Only a limited number of medical facilities are equipped to collect it, but it's worth a look. Follow this link for more information.

My parish priest, Fr. Ed Fride, is beloved and highly esteemed by many. (You've gotta love a man who knows all of Star Trek inside out but who has also seen The Passion of the Christ 13 times (or more, since the DVD came out.) I'm blessed that he is leading our parish Christ the King because he is hip-deep in love with Jesus and communicates that in a way that inspires me to draw closer to God.

He'll be telling his conversion story tonight (10/11) on The Journey Home on EWTN at 8:00 or whenever your broadcaster sees fit to put it on. (Replay times available at the Journey Home website.) It's a good story. I recommend it.

I found an interesting viewpoint on the parish and Fr. Ed -- click here.

Shamelessly plagarized from TSO's blog:

• "My other car is on blocks"
• "My child makes average marks at Taylor High School, but he's taking Honor Level courses so the competition is tougher"
• "Bush or Kerry? They're both so good!"
• "If you're close enough to read this, you must like me. Wanna meet for lunch?"
• "Let go and let . . . oh what the heck, go ahead and try to control everything"
• "Equal rights for the people who really annoy me"
• "Visualize global warming"
• "How's your driving? 1-800-APOLOGIZE"

Your turn.

I'm sure you're all familiar with the teaser subject lines by which spam e-mails try to entice you to open and respond. I don't know if the one I received today reveals above average creativity or if the sender's hook simply isn't fully baited:
Subj: Link established between pregnancy and sex

To my mind, there are few things more lovely than the early stages of autumn color, when fiery reds and golds are backdropped by the tawny green of trees waiting their turn to take the stage.

Well, I had a treat. I was in Seattle last week, and I took a half-day to drive through the Cascade Mountains and through Mt. Ranier National Park. Fall is a couple of steps ahead in that part of the country, and they've had enough rain to pop out the colors. There weren't many of the bright reds of our sugar maples, but at least one tree out there turns an eye-popping luminous shade of gold. Picture a mountainside of evergreens punctuated by these gold grandnesses that look like they're lit from behind. Wonderful.

I heard a weathercaster on the news last night saying that we might miss the height of fall color if we don't get some rain soon. Apparently the leaves will drop before they turn if they don't have enough water. Did you know that drizzly days in the Fall are a blessing? Neither did I.

I'll be in Ann Arbor for the next several weeks before I have another jaunt to Seattle - St. Louis - and then Seattle again at the end of the month. A friend asked me if I was planning a vacation with all those frequent flyer miles. I hadn't even thought about it. Maybe I'll want to go somewhere warm when the winter months grow wearying, but for now I'm feeling like quite the homebody. And I'm waiting for the rest of the leaves to turn.