Blogworthies XIII

Because The Blog from the Core simply can't cover everything.

Noteworthy entries @ INDC Journal, Dust in the Light, Blackfive, Thrown Back, Power Line (twice), After abortion, little green footballs, Turnabout, Mere Comments, Lead and Gold, and Catholic Analysis.

INDC Science Series: Seasonal Moonbat IMF Migration, Part One @ INDC Journal:

.... Spring is in the air here in Washington, DC. The cherry blossoms have come and gone, the sun is shining, the air is thick with pollen and representatives of the IMF and World Bank are gathering, factors that all combine to form a perfect storm of seasonal moonbat migration in the downtown area of the District. As a research scientist dedicated to documenting the behaviors of the order Chiroptera, I considered this a miraculous opportunity, especially since my recent efforts to find these fascinating creatures had been met with rather disappointing results....

Useless Stereotype Comparisons @ Dust in the Light:

By now, most people who will read them have taken in the Washington Post comparison of a Red State household and a Blue State household. The parallels are, to put it mildly, problematic.

Rich Tucker, to whom Lane Core links, notes that the media elite "sees liberals as normal people, and conservatives as some strange species from somewhere 'out there'": ....

Taking Chance Home @ Blackfive:

The following is Marine Lieutenant Colonel Strobl's account of escorting the remains of Lance Corporal Chance Phelps. It's a long and beautifully written and it deserves to be read in it's entirety. It's about Valor, Honor and Respect....

Abortion Is The Foremost Issue @ Thrown Back (quoted ellipsis in original):

A number of commenters in my "More Than One Way..." post have advanced various arguments for why things like the death penalty and the war in Iraq are of equal moral weight as abortion. Some seem to think that their lack of distinction in these issues adds up to freedom to vote for pro-abortion politicians. They're wrong, and I'm going to show why. Their points ranged from the serious to the silly. I'll try to deal with the serious ones here now. I may progress to dispensing with some of the silly ones later....

Get me rewrite! Part deux @ Power Line:

Yesterday we posted two screenshots of John Kerry's DBunker showing significant editing of the DBunker post on Kerry’s medals. The phrase "he has been consistent about the facts and the symbolism of the medal-returning ceremony" was removed in between the two screenshots.

Gerry Daly of Daly Thoughts and PoliPundit of PoliPundit have forwarded us links to screenshots of the ORIGINAL Kerry DBunker post on his 1971 medals protest. Click here for the link to Daly and here for the link to PoliPundit. Don't miss this one. (Thanks to all who wrote us on this subject.) ....

Get me rewrite! @ Power Line:

A reader writes us as follows:

The linked screenshots show significant editing of the DBunker post on Kerry’s medals that was featured on Good Morning America. The phrase, “he has been consistent about the facts and the symbolism of the medal-returning ceremony” was removed in between the two screenshots enclosed. The first was taken at 9:50 am, the second at 10:26 am, as indicated on the timestamp in the filename.

Here are the two screenshots, the first taken at 9:50 a.m....

The march, 4-25-04, continued. @ After abortion:

Here goes....

Pearl 2001 @ little green footballs:

LGF reader James Croak, aka “Right Brain,” forwarded us these two emails that he sent out shortly after the September 11 atrocities; they speak for themselves....

God, man and the state today @ Turnabout:

So why are the Americans more religious than the Europeans? There have been a variety of explanations: ....

Science, Scientism, and Reality @ Mere Comments:

In a recent issue of The New York Review of Books (the issue of March 25, 2004), the physicist and writer Freeman Dyson reviewed a book exposing paranormal quackery. The book, Debunked!, by the Nobel laureate George Charpak and Henri Broch, looks like fun, if you have an interest in illusion and con artistry and to lengths some people will go to believe in anything but God....

Doctrine and Fad Surfing @ Lead and Gold:

I've lost count of the number of "change efforts" i've been involved with, participated in, and been subject to in the course of my corporate career. Most of them failed to yield the results they promised. Truth be told, some were actually harmful....

The American Catholic "Establishment" @ Catholic Analysis:

In England there has been an Anglican Establishment since the martyrdom of St. Thomas More on July 6, 1535. In that same year John Cardinal Fisher, now St. John Fisher, was also executed by Henry VIII for opposing Henry's usurpation of the pope's role as head of the Church in England. Henry VIII--the corpulent, excessive, lustful, gluttonous emblem of raw power--had his way and imposed his own view of the Church through execution and intimidation. Both More and Fisher died to defend the principle that the only earthly head of the Church was the Bishop of Rome. Surely, they would have also been willing to die defending the Church's teaching on the Eucharist. Even Henry VIII did not seek to challenge that teaching.

Today in America there is an American Catholic "Establishment" that parallels the politicization of the Church accomplished by Henry VIII. The American "Establishment" has cowed most of the bishops in the United States into silence on the issue of Catholic political brokers advancing the agenda of abortion....

See also Blogworthies XII and Blogworthies XIV.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sat. 05/01/04 01:22:12 PM
Categorized as Blogworthies.

St. Joseph the Worker

Today the Roman Church celebrates the feastday of St. Joseph the Worker.

God, our Father, Creator and ruler of the universe, in every age you call man to develop and use his gifts for the good of others. With Saint Joseph as our example and guide, help us to do the work you have asked and come to the rewards you have promised. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

And today my parish, St. Joseph Church, concludes the year-long celebration of its centennial. Bishop Donald Wuerl of Pittsburgh will preside at the Centennial Mass this afternoon.

Please say a prayer from my church today. And please keep me in your prayers: I love my job, but I need to find a way to improve my financial situation to continue to keep this particular roof over my head. Thanks.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sat. 05/01/04 12:52:54 PM
Categorized as Religious.

Photos of Roscoe's Springtide

This week has been peak for the dogwoods in the neighborhood, and the lilacs are blooming.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sat. 05/01/04 10:40:14 AM
Categorized as Other & Photos.

A Bouquet of May Poetry

May

May! queen of blossoms,
   And fulfilling flowers,
With what pretty music
   Shall we charm the hours?
Wilt thou have pipe and reed,
Blown in the open mead?
Or to the lute give heed
   In the green bowers?

Thou hast no need of us,
   Or pipe or wire;
Thou hast the golden bee
   Ripen'd with fire;
And many thousand more
Songsters, that thee adore,
Filling earth's grassy floor
   With new desire.

Thou hast thy mighty herds,
   Tame and free-livers;
Doubt not, thy music too
   In the deep rivers;
And the whole plumy flight
Warbling the day and night—   
Up at the gates of light,
   See, the lark quivers!

Edward Thurlow, Lord Thurlow (1781-1829)
The Oxford Book of English Verse (1939) # 595
ed. Arthur Quiller-Couch

Young Love

All glorious as the Rainbow's birth
   She came in Spring-tide's golden hours,
When Heaven went hand-in-hand with Earth,
   And May was crown'd with buds and flowers.
The mounting devil at my heart
   Clomb faintlier, as my life did win
The charmed heaven she wrought apart
   To wake its better Angel in.
With radiant mien she trod serene
   And pass'd me smiling by—
0, who that look'd could help but love?
   Not I, sweet soul, not I!

Her budding breasts like fragrant fruit
   Of love were ripening to be pressed:
Her voice that shook my heart's red root
   Might not have broken a Babe's rest,—
More liquid than the running brooks,
   More vernal than the voice of Spring,
When Nightingales are in their nooks,
   And all the leafy thickets ring.
The love she coyly hid at heart
   Was shyly conscious in her eye;
0, who that look'd could help but love?
   Not I, sweet soul, not I!

Gerald Massey (1828-1907)
The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse (1913) # 328
ed. Arthur Quiller-Couch

An Even-Song

In the spring twilight, in the colour'd twilight
Whereto the latter primroses are stars,
And early nightingale
Letteth her love adown the tender wind,
That thro' the eglantine
In mixed delight the fragrant music bloweth
On to me,
Where in the twilight, in the colour'd twilight,
I sit beside the thorn upon the hill.
The mavis sings upon the old oak tree
Sweet and strong,
Strong and sweet,
Soft, sweet, and strong,
And with his voice interpreteth the silence
Of the dim vale when Philomel is mute!
The dew lies like a light upon the grass,
The cloud is as a swan upon the sky,
The mist is as a brideweed on the moon.
The shadows new and sweet
Like maids unwonted in the dues of joy
Play with the meadow flowers,
And give with fearful fancies more and less,
And come, and go, and flit
A brief emotion in the moving air,
And now are stirr'd to flight, and now are kind,
Unset, uncertain, as the cheek of Love.
As tho' amid the eve
Stood Spring with fluttering breast,
And like a butterfly upon a flower,
Spreading and closing with delight's excess,
A-sudden fann'd and shut her tinted wings.
In the spring twilight, in the colour'd twilight,
Ere Hesper, eldest child of Night, run forth
On mountain-top to see
If Day hath left the dale,
And hears, well-pleased, the dove
From ancient elm and high
In murmuring dreams still bid the sun good night,
And sound of lowing kine,
And echoes long and clear,
And herdsman's evening call,
And bells of penning folds,
Sweet and low;
O maid, as fair as thou
Behold the young May moon!
O, happy, happy maid!
With love as young as she
In the spring twilight, in the colour'd twilight,
Meet, meet me, by the thorn upon the hill!

Sydney Dobell (1824-1874)
OBVV # 302

The World's May-Queen

When Spring comes back to England
   And crowns her brows with May,
Round the merry moonlit world
   She goes the greenwood way:
She throws a rose to Italy,
   A fleur-de-lys to France;
But round her regal morris-ring
   The seas of England dance.

When Spring comes back to England
   And dons her robe of green,
There 's many a nation garlanded
   But England is the Queen;
She 's Queen, she 's Queen of all the world
   Beneath the laughing sky,
For the nations go a-Maying
   When they hear the New Year cry—

"Come over the water to England,
   My old love, my new love,
Come over the water to England,
   In showers of flowery rain;
Come over the water to England,
   April, my true love;
And tell the heart of England
   The Spring is here again!"

Alfred Noyes (1880-1958)
OBVV # 726

Corinna's going a-Maying

Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
      See how Aurora throws her fair
      Fresh-quilted colours through the air:
      Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
      The dew bespangling herb and tree!
Each flower has wept and bow'd toward the east
Above an hour since: yet you not dress'd;
      Nay! not so much as out of bed?
      When all the birds have matins said
      And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
      Nay, profanation to keep in,
Whereas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
      And sweet as Flora. Take no care
      For jewels for your gown or hair:
      Fear not; the leaves will strew
      Gems in abundance upon you:
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept;
      Come and receive them while the light
      Hangs on the dew-locks of the night:
      And Titan on the eastern hill
      Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying:
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
      Made green and trimm'd with trees: see how
      Devotion gives each house a bough
      Or branch: each porch, each door ere this
      An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
      Can such delights be in the street
      And open fields and we not see't?
      Come, we'll abroad; and let's obey
      The proclamation made for May:
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

There's not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
      A deal of youth, ere this, is come
      Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
      Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream
      Before that we have left to dream:
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth:
      Many a green-gown has been given;
      Many a kiss, both odd and even:
      Many a glance too has been sent
      From out the eye, love's firmament;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd, yet we're not a-Maying!

Come, let us go while we are in our prime;
And take the harmless folly of the time!
      We shall grow old apace, and die
      Before we know our liberty.
      Our life is short, and our days run
      As fast away as does the sun;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
      So when or you or I are made
      A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
      All love, all liking, all delight
      Lies drowned with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
OBEV # 255

Glycine's Song

A sunny shaft did I behold,
      From sky to earth it slanted:
And poised therein a bird so bold—
      Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted!

He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he troll'd
      Within that shaft of sunny mist;
His eyes of fire, his beak of gold,
      All else of amethyst!

And thus he sang: "Adieu! adieu!
Love's dreams prove seldom true.
The blossoms, they make no delay:
The sparking dew-drops will not stay.
            Sweet month of May,
                  We must away;
                  Far, far away!
                        To-day! to-day!"

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
OBEV # 568

The Young May Moon

The young May moon is beaming, love,
The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love;
            How sweet to rove
            Through Morna's grove,
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!
Then awake!—the heavens look bright, my dear,
'Tis never too late for delight, my dear;
            And the best of all ways
            To lengthen our days
Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!

Now all the world is sleeping, love,
But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,
            And I, whose star
            More glorious far
Is the eye from that casement peeping, love.
Then awake!—till rise of sun, my dear,
The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear,
            Or in watching the flight
            Of bodies of light
He might happen to take thee for one, my dear!

Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
OBEV # 592

Ode in May

Let me go forth, and share
The overflowing Sun
   With one wise friend, or one
Better than wise, being fair,
Where the pewit wheels and dips
   On heights of bracken and ling,
And Earth, unto her leaflet tips,
   Tingles with the Spring.

What is so sweet and dear
   As a prosperous morn in May,
   The confident prime of the day,
And the dauntless youth of the year,
When nothing that asks for bliss,
   Asking aright, is denied,
And half of the world a bridegroom is,
   And half of the world a bride?

The Song of Mingling flows,
   Grave, ceremonial, pure,
   As once, from lips that endure,
The cosmic descant rose,
When the temporal lord of life,
   Going his golden way,
Had taken a wondrous maid to wife
   That long had said him nay.

For of old the Sun, our sire,
   Came wooing the mother of men,
   Earth, that was virginal then,
Vestal fire to his fire.
Silent her bosom and coy,
   But the strong god sued and press'd;
And born of their starry nuptial joy
   Are all that drink of her breast.

And the triumph of him that begot,
   And the travail of her that bore,
   Behold they are evermore
As warp and weft in our lot.
We are children of splendour and flame,
   Of shuddering, also, and tears.
Magnificent out of the dust we came,
   And abject from the Spheres.

O bright irresistible lord!
   We are fruit of Earth's womb, each one,
   And fruit of thy loins, O Sun,
Whence first was the seed outpour'd.
To thee as our Father we bow,
   Forbidden thy Father to see,
Who is older and greater than thou, as thou
   Art greater and older than we.

Thou art but as a word of his speech;
   Thou art but as a wave of his hand;
   Thou art brief as a glitter of sand
'Twixt tide and tide on his beach;
Thou art less than a spark of his fire,
   Or a moment's mood of his soul:
Thou art lost in the notes on the lips of his choir
   That chant the chant of the Whole.

William Watson (b. 1858)
OBVV #595 / OBEV #871

May, 1840

A lovely morn, so still, so very still,
   It hardly seems a growing day of Spring,
   Though all the odorous buds are blossoming,
And the small matin birds were glad and shrill
Some hours ago; but now the woodland rill
   Murmurs along, the only vocal thing,
   Save when the wee wren flits with stealthy wing,
And cons by fits and bits her evening trill.
Lovers might sit on such a morn as this
   An hour together, looking at the sky,
Nor dare to break the silence with a kiss,
   Long listening for the signal of a sigh;
And the sweet Nun, diffused in voiceless prayer,
Feel her own soul through all the brooding air.

Hartley Coleridge (1796-1849)
OBVV # 48

See also John Milton: Song on May Morning.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sat. 05/01/04 10:22:05 AM
Categorized as Literary & Most Notable.