<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112</id><updated>2011-08-15T13:41:41.814-07:00</updated><category term='carbonara'/><category term='Frank Capra'/><category term='relationship'/><category term='Romantic Comedy'/><category term='news'/><category term='Sexual Revolution'/><category term='cupcake'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Sophie Scholl'/><category term='Catholic Studies'/><category term='Philosophy'/><category term='Saints'/><category term='Modern Literature'/><category term='Photography'/><category term='Christ Child'/><category term='Kate Nash'/><category term='Women'/><category term='Film'/><category term='Happiness'/><category term='Buddhism'/><category term='Saint Edmund Campion'/><category term='Tradition'/><category term='Saint Elizabeth'/><category term='Judaism'/><category term='Mantilla'/><category term='Classic Film'/><category term='french macarons'/><category term='Gerard Manley Hopkins'/><category term='Childlikeness'/><category term='charity'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='Leap Year 2010'/><category term='Plato'/><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Beauty'/><category term='Hot Chocolate'/><category term='Recipe'/><category term='History'/><category term='Humor'/><category term='Minnesota'/><category term='Chapel Veil'/><category term='Ethics'/><category term='Sin'/><category term='Notre Dame Conference'/><category term='Theology'/><title type='text'>campionist</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-1519815597014920697</id><published>2010-11-17T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T17:10:39.305-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christ Child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Theology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saint Edmund Campion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Childlikeness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Notre Dame Conference'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saints'/><title type='text'>A Childlike Trio (part I)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TOR7WkYPklI/AAAAAAAAAKA/xbJXNjuXhEE/s1600/joseph.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 273px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540689069225251410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TOR7WkYPklI/AAAAAAAAAKA/xbJXNjuXhEE/s320/joseph.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am presenting a paper at the Notre Dame Philosophy and Ethics Conference coming up on Friday. I thought I would post the paper bit by bit on this blog for the fun of it. I've never been to this conference and I'm both nervous and excited- more the latter than the former. If it weren't for my good Professor Kemp, I would never have been given the idea or opportunity to do this. Hats off to him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a society where self-sufficiency, indestructibility, and skepticism dominate the overall thought and lifestyle of the society, the need for understanding and practicing childlikeness is great. The life of the Christ Child is best suited as a model for our understanding of childlikeness. There have been saints throughout history who have practiced childlikeness. Using the Christ Child’s life, I will extract three elements of childlikeness. The first is obedience. The Christ Child was obedient to His Father in heaven, His Mother, and to His foster-father Joseph. The second is vulnerability. In choosing to be born in a manger, being exiled into Egypt, and having His identity be 'Nazarene,' the Christ Child made Himself vulnerable. The third element is childlike understanding. The Christ Child showed us childlike understanding in the temple before the elders and in His response to Mary. I will then demonstrate how events in the lives of three saints exemplify these three elements of childlikeness. I will use the 16th century English martyr Saint Edmund Campion as an example of obedience; for vulnerability, Saint Francis of Assisi; and for childlike understanding, Saint Thomas Aquinas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is interesting that Christ chose to be born in a time when children were treated much differently than they are today. The social status of children at the time of Christ was, according to Saint Paul, “no better than that of slaves.” 1 Obedience therefore permeated children’s lives at the time of Christ. Christ not only accepted this role but He embraced it and made it holy. Beginning with Luke’s narration of the finding in the temple, Christ is found in his father’s house, going about his father’s business. 2Fulton Sheen writes, “The temple had great fascination for Him, since it was the little figure or model of heaven; the Father’s house was His home and in it He felt at home.” 3In remaining behind in the Temple while his parents began the return journey home, Christ clearly places obedience to God above obedience to earthly parents. The Gospel narration ends with Christ being obedient also to his earthly parents. “And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them.” 4In choosing to be born to earthly parents to whom he made himself subject, Christ also demonstrates the need for obedience here on earth. Since Christ was no ordinary child, we have to look at his actions as transcending his age and culture. Sheen writes, “There was no fundamental difference between the Boy in the temple and the Man Who was to say that He ‘must be lifted up on the Cross.’” 5This understanding of childlikeness reaches beyond a child being obedient to his father and mother. As Christians we are all to love God above earthly things. And, as Christ showed us by being obedient to his parents, we are also called to obedience here on earth; specifically obedience to a Mother, Mother Church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many saints have lived out this childlike obedience. Saint Edmund Campion took it so seriously that he was martyred for it. Campion was born in London in the year 1540 to a candlestick maker. He went on to become the top scholar of Oxford, catching the attention and admiration of the Earl of Leicester and even Queen Elizabeth. He was ordained a deacon in the Church of England and would have continued onto the Anglican priestly office had not Augustine and Chrysostom come knocking at his pate. Wrestling with the Fathers of his ancestors and finding himself surrounded with the blood of English martyrs, he exiled himself to Ireland to contemplate these new voices beckoning him home; beckoning him to an obedience that went beyond the Queen’s court and Oxford’s halls. In 1573 Campion was ordained priest in the Society of Jesus. By 1580 he had returned to England as a missionary. He was captured the very next year. Queen Elizabeth, however, was not about to let her prized scholar go to waste. She personally met with Campion and offered him clemency on the one condition that he apostatize. Surely a man as reasonable, as learned as Campion would not be driven in the same mad vein as the eccentric chanting monks who threw their lives away for the sake of being Romish Papists. Surely Campion would see the need for a new Church. Campion refused. He was tortured in the tower then was hung, drawn, and quartered at Tyburn. 6 The beloved Saint Edmund’s ultimate act of martyrdom for the Church is the clearest embodiment of Christian childlike obedience. No ties severed his obedience neither to God nor to his earthly parent, the Church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for vulnerability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Footnotes:&lt;br /&gt;1 (Galations 4:1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 (Lke 2:49)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 (Sheen, Life of Christ, p 47)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 (Luke 4:51)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 (Sheen, Life of Christ, p 51)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 Evelyn Waugh, Saint Edmund Campion &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-1519815597014920697?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/1519815597014920697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=1519815597014920697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/1519815597014920697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/1519815597014920697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/11/childlike-trio-part-i.html' title='A Childlike Trio (part I)'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TOR7WkYPklI/AAAAAAAAAKA/xbJXNjuXhEE/s72-c/joseph.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-3287162129142366438</id><published>2010-11-06T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T10:33:12.050-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sexual Revolution'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kate Nash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><title type='text'>Why I LOVE Kate Nash</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNWDvsYmdLI/AAAAAAAAAJo/q8wAyQ8YR2I/s1600/Kate%2BNash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 236px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536476172313326770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNWDvsYmdLI/AAAAAAAAAJo/q8wAyQ8YR2I/s320/Kate%2BNash.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The only songs in my playlist on &lt;a href="http://listen.grooveshark.com/"&gt;Grooveshark&lt;/a&gt; are by Kate Nash... aside from "the Call" by Regina Spektor. I try to mimic Kate's fashion. She's just plain cute with her red hair, freckles, and yellow dresses. She's colorful, feminine, and spunky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her music is addicting in the best sense. That is, I have been listening to it for almost a year and I still am not tired of it. My favorite songs are Foundations (the edited/clean version), Merry Happy, Birds, Mouthwash, Don't You Want to Share the Guilt, Do Wah Doo, Habanera...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 137px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 122px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536486215290541778" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNWM4RY9VtI/AAAAAAAAAJw/TJoEInDXDMM/s320/Kate-Nash-350x350.png" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that long ago, she released her second album "My Best Freind is You." I was listening to it when I cam upon the "Mansion Song." It EXPLODED in an angry poem of f-bombs. It's safe to say that Kate is explicit in her language. But this was A LOT even for her. But through the f-bombs, the lyrics caught my attention. I never fancied Kate to be a woman of morals. From following her blog, I knew she had class and some sense of normallity. But this song was something a bit more than that. Here are the edited lyrics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mansion Song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Kate Nash&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fancy the hip rock 'n' roll scenester&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be **** and then rolled over&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'm an independent woman of the 21st century&lt;br /&gt;No time for knits I want sex and debauchery&lt;br /&gt;I read glamour &amp;amp; the guardian&lt;br /&gt;I like flowers &amp;amp; I'm hardy &amp;amp; I take cocaine&lt;br /&gt;I don't give a **** about her I want your name&lt;br /&gt;I can get **** like the best of men&lt;br /&gt;Like the best of men Like the worst of pain&lt;br /&gt;Inflicted on another young girl again&lt;br /&gt;Impressed by another guitar hero&lt;br /&gt;He's a top score &amp;amp; you're a zero&lt;br /&gt;You're out of your league&lt;br /&gt;There ain't no rubber on the tracks it's gravel&lt;br /&gt;You fall hard cut quick and it's an STD a cut knee&lt;br /&gt;You're a side of stage grasp a laugh&lt;br /&gt;An aftershow party in a bath&lt;br /&gt;**** and expected to be ****&lt;br /&gt;A gasp from an uninformed intruder&lt;br /&gt;The crowd go wild and things get ruder&lt;br /&gt;They're already out of hand and there's no-one here&lt;br /&gt;To take your hand. It's a cold shower and a scramble&lt;br /&gt;For a dirty pair of knicker don't get yours mixed up with hers&lt;br /&gt;Now get out of bed get out of bed get out get out get get out of bed&lt;br /&gt;Get up get down &amp;amp; get undressed! Cause that's what you&lt;br /&gt;Do best strip strip strip n s*** **** get **** 'n drag&lt;br /&gt;And be impressed by the better sex take a piece of raw&lt;br /&gt;Vegetable and hold it to your breast and say you stood&lt;br /&gt;For nothing. You were just a hole that lacked passion&lt;br /&gt;Another undegnified product of society. That girl&lt;br /&gt;Should have been a mansion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song is followed by drums and a bridge with Kate singing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have to be your baby (x4)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can make love (x3)&lt;br /&gt;You can get some&lt;br /&gt;You can get some&lt;br /&gt;This is not love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a mansion!&lt;br /&gt;I am a mansion!&lt;br /&gt;I won't take none of your ****!&lt;br /&gt;[x4]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can try and have your way&lt;br /&gt;But I have far too much to say&lt;br /&gt;You will be asleep before I've taken off my shirt&lt;br /&gt;(x2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be a lady&lt;br /&gt;And I will be a lady&lt;br /&gt;And I will never let you... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I did some research on this song and found this article from &lt;a href="http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=19290"&gt;http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=19290&lt;/a&gt;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nash explained to The Daily Telegraph April 7, 2010 that the song was inspired by the fame-hungry groupies she encountered when performing at festivals: "There were these stupid girls kind of doing my head in. I felt really angry," she said. The London singer added: "They thought what they were doing was really cool and edgy, whereas everyone just thought they were idiots. No one else respected them – just being sleeping around on tour and picked up and ditched in the next town. It's not a career. It's not an ambition to, like, have sex with someone who plays guitar. It's almost like drinking when you're depressed. You know if you're really down and you're, like, 'I'm going to drink three bottles of wine,' and then you're, like, 'Boo hoo,' at the end of the night. It's a depressant. And, like, using sex as a way to make yourself feel better or cool is not going to work. You need to feel good, and then once you feel confident and happy and want to be promiscuous, or whatever, do it on your own terms. Don't let somebody use you, because those guys don't care."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nash explained to The Daily Telegraph the lyric, "Take a piece of raw vegetable and hold it to your breast" She said: "You know in Gone with the Wind at the end where she kills that guy and she goes off and says that speech, 'I'll never be hungry again,' [and holds up] a turnip? It was like a really righteous moment. She was, like, 'I'll never be abused again.' But those girls, at the end of the day, like, what have you stood for? **** all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nash told to The Observer that much of My Best Friend is You deals with female empowerment and one of her bugbears is the inappropriate sexualisation of young girls in modern society. "Young kids should be taught about sex but they shouldn't be taught to be sexy. It's really distasteful," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nash acknowledged in an interview with The London Times April 16, 2010 that this song's lyrics are explicit, however she considers Pussycat Dolls a considerably more corrupting force than her swearing. She said: "They do sexualise young children, it's a fact - look at their name, 'pussy' and 'dolls.' But even though I say ***** and **** and cocaine in that song, there's nothing in there as offensive as 'Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She added: "I'm sympathetic - if people don't want their kids to hear it, if they're offended by it, I accept responsibility. But I'm not gonna censor myself. I'm not a TV presenter. I'm an artist. It's unfortunate really that I became a pop star. 'cause that was accidental. I didn't mean to do that. So I apologise to parents who think that I'm gonna offend their children. But I actually think: you know what, your children won't be offended."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nash concluded that any young girls who hear this song and the rest of My Best Friend Is You will come away from the experience "not singing about stealing people's boyfriends. They're going to be singing about wanting to be an empowered woman with ******* morals and brains. And not thinking [chipmunk-bimbo voice]: 'I wanna be pretty, I wanna be thin, I wanna s*** people.' They're gonna be thinking: 'I wanna ******** do something.' That's much better in my book. So, apologies for the swearing, but no apologies for the meaning behind it.""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 223px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536486220470752658" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNWM4ksBFZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/TgUo5xqEHfg/s320/kate_nash_346813a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go Kate! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The "Mansion Song" is an eerie, ugly song. It's an acurate portrayal of the sad lives of those women Kate was mentioning. I agree with her completely that we sugar-coat sexual "freedom" in catchy songs. There's no controversy over songs like "California Girls" by Katy Perry. There's no swearing, but the lyrics are extremely degrading to women. They tell a lie which is as old as Adam and Eve: that sin is exciting, rewarding, enticing, a roller-coaster. While I don't intend on often listing to the "Mansion Song" because I don't like to get sin in the head, I will listen to it once in awhile just to be reminded: this is how ugly sin is. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-3287162129142366438?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/3287162129142366438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=3287162129142366438&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3287162129142366438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3287162129142366438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/11/why-i-love-kate-nash.html' title='Why I LOVE Kate Nash'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNWDvsYmdLI/AAAAAAAAAJo/q8wAyQ8YR2I/s72-c/Kate%2BNash.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-3895612992239934266</id><published>2010-11-03T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T10:33:40.917-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saint Elizabeth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie Scholl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saints'/><title type='text'>Sacramental, Not Sentimental</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNK-yiw9Y2I/AAAAAAAAAJY/xV05aEG9Fdo/s1600/SophieScholl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 224px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535696667526652770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNK-yiw9Y2I/AAAAAAAAAJY/xV05aEG9Fdo/s320/SophieScholl.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched my mind for posts. The elections were yesterday and so I thought it would be appropriate to give my critique on them. But it has been a long time since I have visited the world of politics. Or, maybe it's just that it's the very air I breathe that I take it for granted and don't even think about it. Coming from a family where a photograph of my great-grandfather shaking hands with President Truman is framed on the wall, I can't help but feel a little blood-rush at the thought of voting. And vote I did. It was a pain in the patoot! Since I moved to an apartment but did not change my legal address, I needed to find someone who lived in my district to vouch for me. My boyfriend was in the same predicament. It took us two hours to find someone. What aggravated me the most was the thought of illegal aliens being allowed to vote with ease, somewhere, somehow. It happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is over. My favorite candidate did not win (Teresa Collett -- professor of law at the University of Saint Thomas, devout Catholic, calls herself a "Papal Feminist." What a lady). And to be honest, I am a bit disillusioned with all the other candidates. I just wish someone would overturn Roe vs. Wade and get over it. That's all I'll say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the point of my post. Sacramental, Not Sentimental?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been my experience to feel close to someone who has died. Two people in particular stand out. One of them is Saint Edmund Campion. The other is Sophie Scholl. I suppose because she's a girl, I feel a unique closeness to Sophie Scholl, even more so than Edmund. And she lived in a time I can still reach and understand. She has been haunting me since my freshman year of college (three years ago) when I would pray outside of "Planned Parenthood" with the seminarians. Without sounding cheesy and strange, it hits me especially when I'm walking outside or when I'm getting ready in the morning. It hits me when I talk to myself in German (out of habit, not because I am trying to "be" Sophie). It hits me when I sit and think. It hits me when I pause to&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNK-knNailI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/48RNDO6Yj0M/s1600/38530482_d4127cc42e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 234px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535696428201577042" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNK-knNailI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/48RNDO6Yj0M/s320/38530482_d4127cc42e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; look out a window. It hits me when I listen to '40s music while I cook. I feel close to her. I feel like she is a friend of mine who goes out of her way to visit me. She's a companion. We share a lot; we understand each other quite well. Whenever I drink with friends, she is there. Whenever I dance, she is there. Whenever I curse I feel she is there. Whenever I feel sick, she is there. Whenever I find myself in sin, she is there. Whenever I feel alone, she is there. I know that she is a sinner. I've never had a sister, so I don't know if I am hitting the nail on the head or not when I say this- but it seems to me that what we share is like secrets that two sisters share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s not that we are similar people. In many ways we are different. She grew up in Germany. She is dead. Her father was thrown into prison for awhile by the Gestapo. She had sisters. She cut her hair short like a boy’s. I think there is a distinction between sameness and love. I don’t believe in having to be the “same” as something you have love. That defeats the purpose of charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned about Sophie first from watching the film "Sophie Scholl, die letzen Tage." Then I read a book about her called "Sophie Scholl and the White Rose" by Jud Newborn and Annette Dumbach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray she is a saint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saints! Here is my contention. I came to know Sophie as a girl like any other girl. She was human. The secular authors who wrote about her had no ulterior motivation. They didn’t have to present her in any particular light. They didn’t overly glorify her. They didn’t write long poetic prose about how she suffered and how she meekly and mildly offered herself up. The words she spoke are not translated into 17th century English dialect. Her image is not baroque. It’s Sophie. But it is also glorified. Sophie is dead, as I have said. And I believe she is in either purgatory or heaven. However, her memory is not over-clouded by this. I can look at her, at the great, saintly, things she did; I can ponder her fame throughout Germany and all over the world; and I simultaneously see a girl who is my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the only way the saints are presented to us is in the way we try to capture their glorification as saints. I came to know Edmund Campion as a human through his own writings and through the genius of Evelyn Waugh who was himself no sentimentalist. We can all agree, I think, that it is sometimes difficult to imagine the saints as they were on earth: human. It’s not anyone’s fault. The saints are in fact glorified, and it’s nice to see at least a partial image of where we’re going- what our reward will be. But it’s sad we can’t also see the other side of the picture. We can’t see the earthly side. At least, we normally can’t see it right away. I’m not here to bash artwork or poetry which is dedicated to the saints. I love beautiful artwork of the saints and even I have written sentimental poetry to them. I lament I cannot immediately see Saint Elizabeth of Hungary as a woman who probably threw up due to morning sickness; or cried when she was alone; who took walks in the afternoon and marveled at a sunset; who combed out knots in her hair; who became buzzed from wine and sometimes ate too much venison. If this is missing, then who are we to ever hope of attaining sanctity? Who were these people living perfect lives? I can’t understand them, they’re perfect, they’re glorified. They must have always been glorified because that’s all I know of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 194px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535697105313485602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNK_MBpeUyI/AAAAAAAAAJg/I7AaSjDr2oU/s320/stokes-st-elizabeth.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;This is my favorite painting of Saint Elizabeth. It captures her in her daily life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s true some saints were “glorified” even here on earth. I am referring to the mystics. I find them to be quite beautiful because they are like living artwork. I admire them and wish to study more about them. They are living examples as to where we’re headed. My concern is more with the saints who were not mystics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see where someone may say, “Katie, in fact there were saints who lived in 17th century England.” To which I say, true, there were people who spoke like that. What I don’t like is when we translate Queen Saint Clothild’s middle-high Germanic speech into 17th century English. Another objection may be raised- how are we to translate without deviating from how they spoke? It’s easy to translate Sophie’s modern German into modern English. But what about Latin or old Slavic? How can I say what is acceptable translation and what isn’t? Shouldn’t we go with a translation which best captures the spirit of the times? To which I say: we should do as the medievals did. They took things and made them their own. In paintings, Christ and His Mother are often dressed in medieval garb, taking part in medieval customs, and existing around medieval architecture. It’s not because the medievals were stupid and thought that all of history mimicked their dress and way of life. It was a part of their “way” to take things and make them their own. The medieval German ballads “Tristan” and “Der Arme Heinrich” are yet again examples of taking something old and making it both new and old. I submit we can best translate the words of the saints into modern English (or French, Italian, German, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, Norwegian, Dutch, Swahili, Portuguese, Chinese, etc. etc.) by choosing English words derived from their language, leaving out slang/idioms from pop/literary culture, choosing words based on the context of the sentence, and not slicing their sentences into our short little buggers. If this seems all hogwash to someone, then yes, fine, go with 17th century English as long as their humanity doesn’t get lost in it. I tried reading “Saint Elizabeth of Hungary” by a 19th century romantic author whose name I have forgotten. I could tell it was a work of romanticism almost immediately and had to give up on it. No way could I take the woman in that book seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another objection may be, “Katie, aren’t you imposing your 21st century American world view on the saints?” To which I reply, yes and no. Yes in the sense that I see nothing wrong in wanting to bring out their human side, and if that seems like 21st century realism, then so be it. And no because I think the following should be included in this venture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The physical world they lived in (details of landscape).&lt;br /&gt;2) The human world (details of customs, food, politics, cities, government etc. etc. Primary recourses are the best for these).&lt;br /&gt;3) The spiritual world. (Did they come from a society dominated by Christianity or paganism? What were the details of this?)&lt;br /&gt;4) What did they do that the Church recognizes them as a saint?&lt;br /&gt;5) What are human attributes which are common to us all? Sorrow, joy, jealousy, love, hope, sin, forgiveness, a thirst for God etc. etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I deeply love the saints. Aside from the Eucharist, it’s my favorite thing about being Catholic. I have an urge to break out of this pattern of artwork and prose and flesh out their lives on earth. We’ll see if I’m any good at it. It’s worth a try. Right? In any event someone out there has got to be good at it. And if you are reading this blog and thinking you might be good at it, please steal my idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Katie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I believe the adage that if you really like a particular saint, it’s probably the case that that saint particularly likes you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. Icons are the way to go. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-3895612992239934266?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/3895612992239934266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=3895612992239934266&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3895612992239934266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3895612992239934266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/11/sacramental-not-sentimental.html' title='Sacramental, Not Sentimental'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TNK-yiw9Y2I/AAAAAAAAAJY/xV05aEG9Fdo/s72-c/SophieScholl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-3722494774371380790</id><published>2010-11-02T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T00:42:51.143-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Classic Film'/><title type='text'>Halloween and All Souls</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-72sWblLI/AAAAAAAAAIg/0Vtu0EhJ7EM/s1600/DSC01258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 301px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534849015354201266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-72sWblLI/AAAAAAAAAIg/0Vtu0EhJ7EM/s320/DSC01258.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I was so proud of the decorations that I made for Halloween this year that I am not only going to keep them up until Thanksgiving, but I am going to give them a place of recgonition here on this humble little blog. Halloween is my favorite "secular" holiday as my beloved coined it. I love it because it takes place in the autumn when the colors are rich and I am in a mood for Universal black and white horror movies (Dracula and Frankenstein in particular), the fireplace at Nanny and Grandpa Gordie's, jack-o-lanterns with gaping glowing eyes, and Young Goodman Brown. Not to mention a bowl of Milky Ways, Butterfingers, Snickers and a cup of steaming hot apple cider that gives you a tickle in the throat as you sip. This year was a sucess. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 244px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 367px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534848520253040914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-7Z39HaRI/AAAAAAAAAIY/zhU-Oo68o_o/s320/DSC01254.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-8BpxENDI/AAAAAAAAAIo/shvRz7TUzws/s1600/DSC01259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534849203639170098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-8BpxENDI/AAAAAAAAAIo/shvRz7TUzws/s320/DSC01259.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;In my room. The tree was my own design. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-8MlBMWnI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Al86-0Lv4dY/s1600/DSC01262.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534849391343196786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-8MlBMWnI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Al86-0Lv4dY/s320/DSC01262.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;My tribute to Edgar Allen Poe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 187px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 271px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534849783772331986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-8ja7lv9I/AAAAAAAAAI4/PV5jHMrQTws/s320/DSC01264.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;A lantern.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-9vIfdomI/AAAAAAAAAJA/DtjzTs4Fmck/s1600/DSC01265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 327px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534851084492579426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-9vIfdomI/AAAAAAAAAJA/DtjzTs4Fmck/s320/DSC01265.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Looking for a bite? So are they!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534851168893052258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-90C6GpWI/AAAAAAAAAJI/V7tngicxn7E/s320/DSC01266.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy All Souls Day everyone! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Katie &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-3722494774371380790?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/3722494774371380790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=3722494774371380790&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3722494774371380790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3722494774371380790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/11/halloween-and-all-souls.html' title='Halloween and All Souls'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM-72sWblLI/AAAAAAAAAIg/0Vtu0EhJ7EM/s72-c/DSC01258.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-2040164696529866967</id><published>2010-10-30T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T03:31:45.734-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='french macarons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='news'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='charity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carbonara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cupcake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><title type='text'>Love, Cupcakes, and a Quick Hello!</title><content type='html'>Dearest Followers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since my last post! I am so sorry to have left you all for such a long period of time. I can’t promise a permanent return as I don’t plan on being less busy than I have been. I would like to give you a brief update on what has been happening in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I am happily in a relationship. We have been dating for 5 months and two weeks. I am grateful to God for this wonderful person to share myself with. Today I made carbonara for us both and then spent a lazy few hours watching “the Office.” The secret to carbonara is using only the yolks of the eggs. Fresh parsley is also a must. It isn't easy being in lo&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM1FHAaaEXI/AAAAAAAAAII/Btp79Lh-IoY/s1600/StAugustine.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 242px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534155503780368754" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM1FHAaaEXI/AAAAAAAAAII/Btp79Lh-IoY/s320/StAugustine.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ve. At the same time it's a far better thing than I could have imagined. It is freeing to take Saint Paul's words to heart that married people should not act as married people, but seek first the kingdom. This passage should not be interpreted in the light of shirking one's duty of charity towards loved ones. Rather, I find it is the key to happiness in relationships. Our charity towards God should be the focus of our hearts. How well I've learned this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charity. It's a new love of mine. I have never been able to pray as I have beenm now that I have a deeper understanding of charity. In my "Readings in Aquinas Class" we are studying charity as expounded upon in the "Summa." Charity- a friendship with God. What is friendship? Something which is shared, mutual, and benevolent. What is shared between God and us in charity? God's Happiness. We are to do nothing but delight in His happiness. That's what charity is. It is a resting in something which it outside of ourselves. To think we can delight and rest in GOD- the ultimate happiness, the ultimate goal- and to think it is attainable here on earth is mind blowing. Being in this wonderful relationship with a man and learning about charity has affected my prayer life and understanding of just what it means to love. I could go on about charity- how it orders all of our loves, how this order will be carried into heaven, how prayer can be transformed through charity. But it's sufficient to say that through charity I "have put away childish things" (1 Corinth: 13).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the s&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TMxvrbF3q7I/AAAAAAAAAH4/qT0e-s6soGQ/s1600/SouthernBelle_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 152px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533920833928932274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TMxvrbF3q7I/AAAAAAAAAH4/qT0e-s6soGQ/s320/SouthernBelle_web.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ummer I got a job working at “&lt;a href="http://sweetsbakeshop.com/"&gt;Sweets&lt;/a&gt;" bakeshop, only a few blocks from my apartment. I can’t express my gratitude for this job. It is a small, family owned business. Getting to know the owners and being with them as they celebrated the recent birth of their first child was a blessing. The people with whom I work are so kind. I actually look forward to going to work. The small family business is the best work environment to be in. It is a treat to serve the customers and show off our creations. We sell mostly cupcakes and French macaroons. Though we also do our special-order cakes, brownies, and blondies. "Sad Macs" are my downfall. They are our french maracrons which have broken or dried out. The employees can eat a few here and there. I eat far too many. :) The photo on the left is of our "Southern Belle" cupcake. It's a red velvet cake with a white chocolate cream cheese frosting. What are my favorites? Check out the "Feisty Goat"; "Pucker Up"; and "Triple Chocolate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying these autumn days. It is my favorite season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Deo gratias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 131px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533920954142629314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TMxvya7DHcI/AAAAAAAAAIA/CVLuPbEwL4E/s320/ChocMac_web.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Our chocolate "French Macarons"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-2040164696529866967?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/2040164696529866967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=2040164696529866967&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/2040164696529866967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/2040164696529866967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/10/love-cupcakes-and-quick-hello.html' title='Love, Cupcakes, and a Quick Hello!'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/TM1FHAaaEXI/AAAAAAAAAII/Btp79Lh-IoY/s72-c/StAugustine.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-6720436349406051170</id><published>2010-02-09T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T13:53:33.691-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gerard Manley Hopkins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Catholic Studies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Pied: patchy in color; splotched or piebald</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3HVViuZq5I/AAAAAAAAAHo/7ixMMi4TCVM/s1600-h/roasted-chestnuts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436360791288294290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3HVViuZq5I/AAAAAAAAAHo/7ixMMi4TCVM/s320/roasted-chestnuts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pied Beauty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gerard Manley Hopkins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GLORY be to God for dappled things—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="2"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="3"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="4"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All things counter, original, spare, strange;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="7"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="8"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="9"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3HU9M3vrfI/AAAAAAAAAHY/d6IO_PMzO0k/s1600-h/Rainbow_Trout_-_Mend_Less-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436360373105044978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3HU9M3vrfI/AAAAAAAAAHY/d6IO_PMzO0k/s320/Rainbow_Trout_-_Mend_Less-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Eastern philosopher desires to get out of change, as was touched upon in the last post. The quest of the Buddhist is to find the one which does not change. In existence there is change, and so to exist is to suffer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gerard Manley Hopkins, a Jesuit priest, looks at the cycle of existence differently. In his poem, Hopkins looks at the world- all the particularity and change and calls it good. He gives glory to God for it. This is a blatant denial of the Great Escape of the Buddhist. Hopkins poses the question, “Isn’t this all beautiful because it comes from the One Who is Past Change?” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To a Christian, it is more than likely self-evident that the world is good. And the reason for that is because it was revealed to the Jews. (Genesis 1:31, “And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good”). But to the rest of the world, this is not self-evident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that’s all for now. I just have to clarify something from my last post. I can see where it may have come across that I’m not a fan of philosophy. I have to laugh at that because philosophy is my greatest joy to study. I am madly in love with Socrates and Thomas Aquinas. Just thought I’d throw that out there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436360606752520834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3HVKzRpOoI/AAAAAAAAAHg/rId-Eb-Wpxw/s320/mmhopkins.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gerard Manley Hopkins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-6720436349406051170?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/6720436349406051170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=6720436349406051170&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/6720436349406051170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/6720436349406051170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/02/pied-patchy-in-color-splotched-or.html' title='Pied: patchy in color; splotched or piebald'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3HVViuZq5I/AAAAAAAAAHo/7ixMMi4TCVM/s72-c/roasted-chestnuts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-524963877105255834</id><published>2010-02-08T15:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T16:04:20.037-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Judaism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buddhism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Catholic Studies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>How to Scandalize a Philosopher</title><content type='html'>First of all, before I get into the actual post: I just have to apologize for the lack of posts! But I think this is how sporadic it’s going to be for the rest of the semester. Know that I have been faithfully checking out the blogs I follow, if I don’t always have the time to comment on them. Plus we barely have internet at my house. It comes in waves and will cut the connection at any given moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so, down to business. I made a mistake at the end of my last post. I said that there were two “philosophies” which split from the Religious/Philosophical view of Happiness. There is only one philosophy, the other is a history.&lt;br /&gt;See if you can guess which religion holds these 4 truths:&lt;br /&gt;1) To exist is to suffer&lt;br /&gt;2) Suffering is caused by desire&lt;br /&gt;3) The point of life to get out of desire and escape the suffering of this world&lt;br /&gt;4) There is an eightfold path to enlightenment/escape.&lt;br /&gt;If you guessed Buddhism, you hit the nail on the head. Buddhism is a philosophical religion. Their belief that we are trapped by our existence is quite similar to Plato’s teaching that we are souls trapped in a body. In dealing with suffering, Buddhism is fascinating in that it looks at suffering and isn’t superficial about it. It has a keen understanding of the passing nature of all things. Yet, their answer to suffering is that physicality is bad and we must escape it- to be on the run. The great enemy here is TIME. Time doesn’t permit us to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436025542786669890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3Ckbgu_3UI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hiOH_jJ6XWM/s320/Buddha_lantau.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now see if you can guess which religion I am about to describe this time. This religion did not spring out of a philosophy. It did not come from a moral code. It was not founded as a way to make the world a better place. In fact, the members of this religion were just going along their merry way when the encountered someone. And then they wrote a collection of books on how they failed in their relationship with this “someone.” Any guesses? It’s the Jews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story of the Jewish faith is the most unique in all of history. What is the Old Testament about? It’s about how time and time again God entered into a relationship with the Jews and how the Jews screwed it up. Their history is the history of God’s actions in the human race. Think about it. Christianity and Islam came about because of the Jews. In fact, as Catholics, we believe that we are Jews. Jesus, Mary, the 12 Apostles, they were all Jews. We are too. The experience of the Jews was the central experience of the human race. This is why Jews are so disliked. They are the great exception to the rule. They didn’t say, “We’re the greatest.” They said, “God chose us.” They didn’t preach a &lt;em&gt;philosophy&lt;/em&gt;; they didn’t &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; a lot about the nature of God. And this is where they differ from Buddhism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone loves an adventure story right? Just look at the Lord of the Rings and Star Wars and Indiana Jones. People love adventure stories because they echo the true drama: the drama of the human race and its relationship with God. The Jewish faith is a story. It’s a story of a struggle. It’s a story of important actions based on certain individuals. What would happen if evidence was found that Siddhartha was a legendary figure? Nothing much. The important thing was that the Enlightenment happened, it doesn’t really matter who brought it about. If it didn’t come through him- it came through somebody else. But, take Moses. Imagine what would happen if it was discovered that he never existed, that Jesus never existed. Judaism and Christianity&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3CkojemqMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/rkPXSaKjCp4/s1600-h/judaism_torah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 182px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436025766861514946" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3CkojemqMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/rkPXSaKjCp4/s320/judaism_torah.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; would cease to be. Everything depends on certain things that have happened in time. It depends on the particulars of the intervention of God in a very specific, particular way. The idea that “life is an adventure” comes from the Jews. Therefore, anyone who sees Christianity as boring has never encountered Christianity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the philosopher, this is the scandal of Christianity. The idea that God picked a bunch of barbaric shepherds over the great civilizations is something that is hard to wrap even my mind around. And let’s be honest, Christianity has entered the bloodstream of humanity. Denying this is like standing in front of a blazing fire and remarking, “It’s so cold.” Or like listening to Mozart and saying, “He’s not very talented.” Again, what happened to the Jews is the central religious experience of the human race.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-524963877105255834?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/524963877105255834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=524963877105255834&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/524963877105255834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/524963877105255834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-to-scandalize-philosopher.html' title='How to Scandalize a Philosopher'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S3Ckbgu_3UI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hiOH_jJ6XWM/s72-c/Buddha_lantau.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-1598894638545969579</id><published>2010-02-04T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T16:01:10.329-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Catholic Studies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happiness'/><title type='text'>Two Other Views of Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2tGx6FliVI/AAAAAAAAAGw/LkjZoLtr4vM/s1600-h/hemingway-ernest-hemingway-portret.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 199px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 276px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434515198572857682" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2tGx6FliVI/AAAAAAAAAGw/LkjZoLtr4vM/s320/hemingway-ernest-hemingway-portret.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so, we know that the Epicureans deny truth # 2 (that Happiness is impossible to find). Now we come to the Absurdist’s’ explanation of Happiness. They embrace truth #2. In fact, its truth # 1 they deny. According to the Absurdist, Happiness cannot be found. Perhaps the most famous Absurdist was American author Ernest Hemmingway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ernest Hemmingway embodied the philosophy of the Absurdist. He saw the universe as absurd. It is chaotic, meaningless, unjust, and an imposing game to be played. How does one win this absurd game? By taking your life’s end into your own hands; by sticking it to the absurdity and unjustness of the universe; In other words, you commit suicide. Ernest Hemmingway once wrote to a friend that once he could no longer live life in a productive manner, then the game would be over and he could see no better way to win than to commit suicide. On July 2nd, 1961, Ernest Hemmingway shot himself in the head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where we get a sexually obsessed society. You see, there is much despair in this way of thought. Sexual excitement is a grand way to distract oneself from that despair. Some feel the need to constantly seek out new sexual partners. They grow tired of one and need constantly seek that excitement of the “first time.” Why? What are they running away from? Well, who wants to face the realization that they have nothing else to do but to despair? If I was an Absurdist, you bet I’d be out every night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final view of Happiness is the Philosophical/Religious. What makes this view unique from the others is that it says both truths are true. As far as resolving the dilemma goes, the dilemma is resolved not on this earth, but elsewhere- in a different state of life. The resolution to the dilemma moves beyond what we can see, taste, and touch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know many will think I’m biased when I say this, but this view seems to match the human experience most deeply. Bear with me here. Every civilization in history has held this view to be true, not just the Christians of Western Civilization. The Aztecs, the Iroquois, the Chinese, the peoples of India, the Romans, the Greeks, the Germanic and Celtic barbarians, the Egyptians, the Africans, everyone believed in a metaphysical world- another life which was supernatural and not of this world. The modern world we live in today, which denies this view of Happiness, is the first of its kind. This is the first time a civilization has denied the metaphysical, the &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2tG500R_jI/AAAAAAAAAG4/fQ0roWaD49k/s1600-h/aztec-calendar-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434515334597049906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2tG500R_jI/AAAAAAAAAG4/fQ0roWaD49k/s320/aztec-calendar-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;supernatural. Think about it. For thousands and thousands of years people believed in a supernatural being, or beings, or place or idea. They believed in Happiness. How long will this world continue to adopt the “new” views of Happiness? Well, considering that these views, which deny what thousands of years of human experience have embraced, I’m guessing that they won’t last long. Be not afraid: the Absurdist and the Epicurean are not here to stay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this philosophical/religious view has been split into different philosophies. Stay tuned. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-1598894638545969579?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/1598894638545969579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=1598894638545969579&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/1598894638545969579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/1598894638545969579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-other-views-of-happiness.html' title='Two Other Views of Happiness'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2tGx6FliVI/AAAAAAAAAGw/LkjZoLtr4vM/s72-c/hemingway-ernest-hemingway-portret.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-5084424431103953667</id><published>2010-02-03T15:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T16:02:05.157-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Catholic Studies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happiness'/><title type='text'>Happiness According to the Epicurean</title><content type='html'>It is my intention to share the knowledge I am gaining via my Catholic Studies class with as many people as possible. Today, one of the things we discussed was how people have searched for Happiness. Yes, that’s Happiness with a capitol “H.” Happiness with a capitol “H” means an ultimate, fulfilling happiness. We all have a deep desire for Happiness, a desire to be fulfilled by this Happiness. However, there comes a dilemma. There are two logical truths about Happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Because we desire Happiness, Happiness can be found.&lt;br /&gt;2) Happiness is very difficult, seemingly impossible to find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are three main ways people have dealt with this dilemma. I’m going to talk about the first one, the Epicurean way. The Epicureans deny truth # 2. They see the human race as animals, as material beings. Happiness is not a supernatural question. In fact, there is no supernatural. The world has everything we need. Voltaire is perhaps the most famous Epicurean. This where we get the idea of “the good life.” As material beings, we only need the materials of this earth for happiness. If you’ve ever heard the saying “eat, drink, and be merry,” you’ve been introduced to Epicureanism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434170066981299794" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2oM4mt7JlI/AAAAAAAAAGY/MYoq936jYGk/s320/life.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Epicureans are often mistaken for promoting wild, crazy, sexually promiscuous ways of life. This is not what Epicureans hold to be the good life. Rather, they believe that as long as you have the right amount: not too much, not too little, then you’re leading “the good life.” You need the right car, the right hair, the right food, the right exercise, the right friends, the right house, the right family size, the right hygiene (white teeth) to live “the good life.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2oNh1hD9pI/AAAAAAAAAGo/4GvlUkr9_kI/s1600-h/Voltaire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 182px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 215px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434170775328519826" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2oNh1hD9pI/AAAAAAAAAGo/4GvlUkr9_kI/s320/Voltaire.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the United States of America! This is the working philosophy of the US of A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what’s wrong with this philosophy? Or rather, what is its Achilles’ heel? Just this: it mocks the experience of human suffering. Having life the “right” way doesn’t answer my deepest longings, nor does it explain suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we suffer? Well, the Epicureans say we shouldn’t have to. Suffering should be eliminated at all costs, since we’re mere material beings. If a child is going to be born deformed and live a life full of “suffering”, the Epicurean would say, “kill it.” If a marriage has turned rocky and is causing suffering, the Epicurean would say, “end it.” That’s it, end of story. Well, that just doesn’t do it for me. We can’t eliminate suffering completely. And that certainly doesn’t explain why suffering exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing that’s wrong with this philosophy is that it is an “aristocratic” philosophy. Only a very few and fortunate can get this “right” way of living. If you’re born into circumstances where you can’t get the right car, the right house, the right white teeth… then, well, the Epicureans would say you’re just not Happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, my friends, is Happiness according to the Epicurean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-5084424431103953667?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/5084424431103953667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=5084424431103953667&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/5084424431103953667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/5084424431103953667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/02/happiness-according-to-epicurean.html' title='Happiness According to the Epicurean'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2oM4mt7JlI/AAAAAAAAAGY/MYoq936jYGk/s72-c/life.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-1285673249352364424</id><published>2010-02-02T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T14:05:21.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joys of University Life</title><content type='html'>Dear Friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t had a second’s time to post since I started second semester of my sophomore year at the University on Monday. I moved into my new house with friends on Sunday night and ever since then it’s been a wonderful whirlwind of friends, a wonderful day at work at the Center of Catholic Studies, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, intellectual conversation, German, and home-cooked meals! Not a day goes by when I don’t thank God that He brought me here, to this wonderful place. How awesome is it that I was born near this little niche of Catholic Studies?? That I have found a garden of young Catholics just like me who are wonderful people and also so on fire with the Faith, surrounded by the rich traditions of our Faith, and encouraged and broadened by our devout, faithful, learned professors is something I shall never ever take for granted. I am proud to call this place home. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2iguPKgV1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/wtPutA_JwIQ/s1600-h/DSC00848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433769666627524434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2iguPKgV1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/wtPutA_JwIQ/s320/DSC00848.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes have been wonderful. I can’t wait to attend the second day of “Catholic Studies 101: the Search For Happiness.” We will be studying C.S. Lewis’ “The Great Divorce”, Walter Ferrel’s “My Way of Life” and Josef Pieper’s “the Four Cardinal Virtues.” The professor, Father Keating, is one of the wisest men I know. Listening to his homilies is like bathing in the light of the marriage of Faith and Reason. And marking his devotion to the Holy Eucharist causes me to nearly tremble. I can’t wait to blog about what I’m learning in that class!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention the great friends and community that is here! Already on Friday I plan to attend “Cor Jesu” (Eucharistic Adoration). Then on Saturday is a “Fiddler on the Roof” party followed by swing dancing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask that you keep me in your prayers, that this semester will be a safe and successful one for myself and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I can’t thank God enough for placing me here. I only hope to watch it continue to grow and prosper in all corners of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will keep you in my prayers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deo Gratias!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2ihHGKQ82I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/fe2_9ufrj40/s1600-h/DSC00850.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433770093707326306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2ihHGKQ82I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/fe2_9ufrj40/s320/DSC00850.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-1285673249352364424?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/1285673249352364424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=1285673249352364424&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/1285673249352364424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/1285673249352364424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/02/joys-of-university-life.html' title='The Joys of University Life'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2iguPKgV1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/wtPutA_JwIQ/s72-c/DSC00848.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-632757071127722717</id><published>2010-01-30T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T23:18:43.125-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tradition'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beauty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mantilla'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chapel Veil'/><title type='text'>A Bride Every Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PLSAb7LlI/AAAAAAAAAFY/uCy-r0Z89HE/s1600-h/ld+1++4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432409085754158674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PLSAb7LlI/AAAAAAAAAFY/uCy-r0Z89HE/s320/ld+1++4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wondered what it really feels like to be a bride? Have you wondered what it will feel like to walk up the isle and meet your beloved at the altar? Have you ever wanted to go wedding dress shopping just to try on the lace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this: you can do all those things every Sunday! Well, maybe not the wedding dress shopping, but you can wear the lace! Now you’re probably wondering what in tarnation I am talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For starters, I’m talking about wearing a mantilla, or chapel veil, to mass. It was required for women in the Catholic Church (eastern and western) to wear chapel veils for nearly 2,000 years. Chapel veils and mantillas are basically the same thing, so from here on out I am going to simply&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PO_Z-NvcI/AAAAAAAAAGA/1O8qx7XW-s4/s1600-h/jfk-dating.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432413164237864386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 245px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PO_Z-NvcI/AAAAAAAAAGA/1O8qx7XW-s4/s320/jfk-dating.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PMNajB-uI/AAAAAAAAAFg/DVz2MzS3ECs/s1600-h/jfk-dating.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;refer to them as mantillas. The origins of the mantilla are Biblical. See 1st Corinthians 11. Many people are under the false assumption that Vatican II got rid of the mantilla. This is, however, incorrect. According to Father Keating (a jedi master of the priesthood and professor at the University of Saint Thomas) all Vatican II did was remove the “mandatory” aspect of the mantilla. They had confidence that the women of the Church would continue to wear the mantilla because they would want to. Sadly, this was one of the things which got corrupted after the council. Women were told that the mantilla was a sign of oppression; a sign of degradation. We were told that it was the men’s way of bullying us; of putting fretters on us and all that doom and gloom sort of stuff. What remains today? Aside from seeing them at Latin masses, the mantillas are gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the thing is, mantillas don’t just belong at the Latin masses, they belong at EVERY mass! Why? Well, here’s where the whole bride thing comes in. Ladies, if you’re looking for Mr. Right, or if you’ve already found him, keep on looking or keep celebrating that you’ve found him… but don’t forget your first and only truest love: Christ. No man has ever and will ever love you as much as Christ loves you. It doesn’t matter if you’re called to be a nun or married: you are always called to be a bride of Christ. Consecrated religious answer the call in a different way than &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PMrDzqP1I/AAAAAAAAAFo/2_lUpfOyvDs/s1600-h/Francis_Luis_Mora_Lace_Mantilla_222_540_larger_210x234.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432410615667375954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PMrDzqP1I/AAAAAAAAAFo/2_lUpfOyvDs/s320/Francis_Luis_Mora_Lace_Mantilla_222_540_larger_210x234.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;those who are called to marriage in this life. But nevertheless, I’ll say it again: we are all called first and foremost to be the bride of Christ. Christ laid down His life for His Bride, the Church. Talk about a MAN! And every time we are at mass and we approach the altar in the communion line… are we not brides approaching our beloved Christ? I challenge you, next time you are in line for communion, think of yourself as a bride approaching your Prince, your Bridegroom, your beloved. I promise you, if you always remember that, you will never be bored at communion again. And ladies, having a mantilla (a veil) helps us to recognize ourselves as the beautiful brides we are. Would anyone ever tell a bride that her veil is a symbol of oppression? Of degradation? That it’s the groom’s way of bullying his bride? I hope not. So why do we listen to people who tell us the same thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s the real kicker, if you’re not convinced yet. Men are not allowed to wear a mantilla or anything on their heads at mass. If it was the way around: men could wear a mantilla and women couldn’t… wouldn’t we throw a fit? Here we women have a right, a privilege that men don’t. So why aren’t we taking advantage of this? Hahaha, sorry guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I admit- it’s hard to be the only woman in the entire church wearing a mantilla. I have been there and often still am there. And I admit again- sometimes I just don’t wear it because I’m tired of being the only woman in the church with a mantilla, wondering if people are judging me as some crazy uptight Catholic girl who thinks she’s better than everyone and has never had a drink in her life. Sometimes I’m afraid guys won’t want to talk to me because I’m wearing a mantilla and they’ll think I’m a nun or something. I’m ashamed of that- but I’m not perfect. Yet it seems that wherever I go with the mantilla, if I return to that church later, I will see at least one or two women wearing one. That is so cool. The Holy Spirit is working in our hearts to revitalize the Church. Ladies, let us be instruments of the Holy Spirit. Let us help women recognize the dignity and beauty we have as brides of the King of heaven and earth. Let us teach men a lesson: that we are protected under the arm of Christ as a woman is protected under the arm of her husband. We are not to be trifled with nor are we play toys for their enjoyment. We are meant to be loved as Christ has loved the Church. That is the challenge we send to our men by wearing the mantilla. And trust me, the cool young men secretly love it. The cool old men and seminarians make it no secret that they love it. Be prepared to be complimented on your mantilla! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432411105333844978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 308px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PNHj9Pm_I/AAAAAAAAAFw/xUNm2xn9Xh4/s320/CHAPELVEIL1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This is not a picture of me. It’s an add from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.monkrock.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;http://www.monkrock.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Picture Resources:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.acagalleries.com/artists/m"&gt;“Lace Mantilla” by Francis Luis Mora&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://rosesandjessamine.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jackie Kennedy wearing Mantilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kristenelizabethveils.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bride&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-632757071127722717?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/632757071127722717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=632757071127722717&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/632757071127722717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/632757071127722717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/01/bride-every-sunday.html' title='A Bride Every Sunday'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2PLSAb7LlI/AAAAAAAAAFY/uCy-r0Z89HE/s72-c/ld+1++4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-3513336851577764747</id><published>2010-01-29T09:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T07:20:56.181-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hot Chocolate'/><title type='text'>Deutsche Hot Chocolate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JXRtzpUfI/AAAAAAAAADo/mzaW-A9fOG4/s1600-h/DSC00765.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432000062427845106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 205px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JXRtzpUfI/AAAAAAAAADo/mzaW-A9fOG4/s320/DSC00765.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Last night I made hot chocolate. I have made up a recipe of my own that I always prefer over the store-bought mixes of hot chocolate. I discovered it a few years ago when I wanted something that was sweet, warm, chocolaty, and with no granulated sugar (I never use fake sugar: cancer in powder form). I remembered a recipe for chai tea late which I loved. It didn’t have a lot of sugar, using honey and spices to make it sweet. So, I combined the recipes and came up with what I call “Deutsche (German) Hot Chocolate.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put about two Tbsp. coco in a saucepan. I’m talking about the coco powder that’s pure coco powder and has no sugar in it. Then put a little milk, just enough to fill the bottom of the pan for a few centimeters. Turn on the lowest heat and stir the coco and milk until it’s combined for the most part. I learned this tip from my dad. It distributes the coco better, rather than having it all clumpy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JWyXaVcqI/AAAAAAAAADg/kpfGSzrpxZY/s1600-h/DSC00758.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432000527497012082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 227px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 159px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JXsyUxo3I/AAAAAAAAADw/kWglofHNu3c/s320/DSC00758.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add more milk (as much as you want) and a bit more coco. Then comes the honey. I don’t measure out how much I dump in, but I’d estimate it’s about half of ¼ cup for two servings. You can taste-test it, starting out with less. If you don’t think it’s sweet enough- add more. Then I add a pinch of ground cinnamon and a dash of ground cloves. If you really want a strong German flavor, then add a bit of ginger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JZC2rWCuI/AAAAAAAAAEI/eeOAdlKpJzo/s1600-h/DSC00762.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JaNl9J6CI/AAAAAAAAAEg/P-ruBlfVJbk/s1600-h/DSC00761.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JZW2TnLwI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/KINvlpL5-e4/s1600-h/DSC00763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432002349632007938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JZW2TnLwI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/KINvlpL5-e4/s320/DSC00763.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432179917722271474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2L62q_YvvI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/I3ojyC2pIS0/s320/DSC00761.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Step 3:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy with friends, a good book (At the Sign of the Lion and Other Essays by Hilaire Belloc), a good film (Meet Me in Saint Louis), or enjoy these pictures I took of our farm.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432004112055474738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 350px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2Ja9b2HGjI/AAAAAAAAAEo/oVTmt_FG-tA/s320/DSC00748.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Our farm is pretty old. This is the old outhouse.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432004792200410354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 341px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JblBlTNPI/AAAAAAAAAEw/EPZNTXypUVQ/s320/DSC00750.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432005126275142658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 338px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2Jb4eG7FAI/AAAAAAAAAE4/84Vv6WpN5k4/s320/DSC00751.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432005640496301938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 340px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JcWZuzR3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/4f-axx7ctHs/s320/DSC00752.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One of our barns. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432006123870998850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JcyicT0UI/AAAAAAAAAFI/u3kwPYKKMfw/s320/DSC00756.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;View of the road and distant farm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Deo Gratias!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-3513336851577764747?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/3513336851577764747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=3513336851577764747&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3513336851577764747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/3513336851577764747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/01/deutsche-hot-chocolate.html' title='Deutsche Hot Chocolate'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2JXRtzpUfI/AAAAAAAAADo/mzaW-A9fOG4/s72-c/DSC00765.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-6671747623850900050</id><published>2010-01-28T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T09:20:09.687-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Minnesota'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>You Might Live in Minnesota If...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I needed a "fix" after the State of the Onion Address last night. This is it. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If you consider it a sport to gather your food by drilling through l8 inches of ice and sitting there all day hoping that the food will swim by, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If you're proud that your state makes the national news 96 nights each year because International Falls is the coldest spot in the nation, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If you have ever refused to buy something because it's "too spendy", you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If your local Dairy Queen is closed from November through March, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431840947772271250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2HGkBhjKpI/AAAAAAAAADI/5-tg90iEDk8/s320/dairy-queen-259x300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If someone in a store offers you assistance, and they don't work there, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If your dad's suntan stops at a line curving around the middle of his forehead, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If you have worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If your town has an equal number of bars and churches, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If you know how to say Wayzata, Mahtomedi, Edina and Shakopee, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- If you think that ketchup is a little too spicy, you might live in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "Vacation" means going up north past Brainerd for the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You measure distance in hours.- You know several people who have hit deer more than once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You often switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard, without flinching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You see people wearing hunting clothes at social events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You think of the major food groups as beer, fish, and venison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You carry jumper cables in your car and your girlfriend knows how to use them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- There are 7 empty cars running in the parking lot at Mill's Fleet Farm at any given time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You know what knee-high by the Fourth of July means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You buy Christmas presents at Fleet Farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You spent more on beer than you did on food at your wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You hear someone use the word 'oof-dah' and you do not immediately break into uncontrollable laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You think fast food is hitting a deer at 65 mph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You or someone you know was a 'Dairy Princess' at a county fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You can identify a southern or eastern accent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You consider Minneapolis exotic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Your idea of creative landscaping is a statue of a deer next to your blue spruce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2HGsgf48jI/AAAAAAAAADQ/VkNd9rWVpdM/s1600-h/200409361-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431841093525762610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2HGsgf48jI/AAAAAAAAADQ/VkNd9rWVpdM/s320/200409361-001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Down South to you means Iowa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A brat is something you eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You go out to a fish fry every Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You find 0 degrees "a little chilly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You think Lutheran and Catholic are THE major religions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Football, Deer Hunting &amp;amp; Opening Fishing schedules are checked before wedding dates are set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- At least twice a year, the kitchen doubles as a meat processing plant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Your mom asks, 'Were you born in a barn?' and you know exactly what she means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- You think that the start of deer season is a national holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Pop is not only what you call your dad, but is the ONLY name for soda.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431841195207039362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 168px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2HGybSmGYI/AAAAAAAAADY/Yg4XSHBy4Xc/s320/root-beer-float.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-6671747623850900050?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/6671747623850900050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=6671747623850900050&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/6671747623850900050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/6671747623850900050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-might-live-in-minnesota-if.html' title='You Might Live in Minnesota If...'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2HGkBhjKpI/AAAAAAAAADI/5-tg90iEDk8/s72-c/dairy-queen-259x300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-8296090885375760309</id><published>2010-01-27T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T08:36:24.614-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romantic Comedy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Film'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frank Capra'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Classic Film'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leap Year 2010'/><title type='text'>The Giant “Leaps” of Leap Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BpcypSyeI/AAAAAAAAAC4/-UG2kc5dQTw/s1600-h/2010_leap_year_wallpaper_002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431457093961042402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BpcypSyeI/AAAAAAAAAC4/-UG2kc5dQTw/s320/2010_leap_year_wallpaper_002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmKdXbbGI/AAAAAAAAACI/o5L_Hp4N7Cg/s1600-h/2010_leap_year_wallpaper_002.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January 8, 2010 was a big day for actors Amy Adams and Matthew Goode. It was the opening day of their recent film, “Leap Year.” The film follows the story of Anna Brady, a type A New Yorker living the fast-paced, social-networking obsessed life. When her boyfriend goes to Dublin Ireland on a business trip, Anna is determined to take part in an ancient Irish tradition on leap year. On leap year, the women of Ireland get the chance to propose to their boyfriends. But on her way to Ireland, transportation issues take Anna on a detour that will change her life. She hires Declan, a pub owner, whose character was along the lines of Mr. Darcy, to drive her to Dublin. What ensues is an adventure which will leave you longing for Ireland. The film grossed $3,301,965 opening day. As of January 26, 2010, the film has grossed $23,049,280.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While watching this film, I was struck by two things. The first thing which struck me was the wit of the film. It is rated PG for sensuality and language. But, the language issue was basically nothing. Imagine, the writers of the film (Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont) were able to write a script that was believable, entertaining, and emotional without taking the easy way out and having the characters drop f-bombs every other line. Amazing!!! Truly a rarity! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmKo4z0oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/45AjE0vGi7I/s1600-h/alg_movie_leap_year.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431453483569238658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmKo4z0oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/45AjE0vGi7I/s320/alg_movie_leap_year.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another great thing about the script was the lack of a sex scene. The romantic tension was so well acted out, that these characters and their situation spoke more clearly to me than many films I have scene where, again, the writers took the easy way out by throwing in a sex scene or two. It’s great to see some originality in a screenplay and talent in actors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second thing that struck me was how much this film resembled a Frank Capra film. Frank Capra directed all-time favorites such as “It’s A Wonderful Life” “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town” and “You Can’t Take it With You.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431453493885830242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmLPUehGI/AAAAAAAAACg/IvVa_MrltI4/s320/you-cant-take-it-with-you-title-still.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won’t say too much of the film for the sake of my readers. But many of the themes present in “Leap Year” were the driving themes of Capra’s films. At the end of “Leap Year” there is a scene which is literally taken out of “It’s A Wonderful Life” and “You Can’t Take it With You.” Like the Capra films of old, “Leap Year” has no special effects. And speaking of classic films, Amy Adams had the grace and charm of a modern day Grace Kelly. Matthew Goode had the presence of a modern “silent man” Gary Cooper. At last, directors and actors are catching on: mimic the old stuff and you just might get somewhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like Fra&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmK4mEa5I/AAAAAAAAACY/bI7R67H_gIk/s1600-h/frank_capra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431453487785601938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmK4mEa5I/AAAAAAAAACY/bI7R67H_gIk/s320/frank_capra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nk Capra's films got awful ratings by the "big critics" so this film too has suffered the critic's disapproval. Maybe the big guys who criticize films for a living won't like it; but everyone I have talked to on the street has loved this film. It will succeed- if not now, then certainly in the future. It’s no coincidence that the films catching the critic’s attention and gaining their approval are the ones with crazy special effects. I’m talking about films like “Avatar.” The special effects are great… but what about the dialogue? The acting? Not so great. Today, if you’ve got insane special effects, you &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmLnP6nGI/AAAAAAAAACo/aZgKuMWI2dA/s1600-h/avatar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431453500309150818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BmLnP6nGI/AAAAAAAAACo/aZgKuMWI2dA/s320/avatar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;don’t need an intelligent script and talented actors. You can get by with crap as long as you’re stimulating people’s eyes with blue creatures swinging through the trees. But when these special effects become out-dated and are looked upon as “old” and “goofy,” what films will remain? Capra’s films have stood the test of time and succeeded beyond their critics’ wildest dreams. I think the same will happen for films like “Leap Year.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven’t already, see “Leap Year”!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431456418663737426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2Bo1e93qFI/AAAAAAAAACw/rFDUJcahFYU/s320/CyclopsSmall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) was groundbreaking in its use of special effects. It was the first film using stop-motion animation effects to be completely shot in color. It was a number one choice for the critics. While it remains a well-liked cult film, its popularity among Americans today is nowhere near that of Capra’s films.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-8296090885375760309?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/8296090885375760309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=8296090885375760309&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/8296090885375760309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/8296090885375760309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/01/giant-leaps-of-leap-year.html' title='The Giant “Leaps” of Leap Year'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S2BpcypSyeI/AAAAAAAAAC4/-UG2kc5dQTw/s72-c/2010_leap_year_wallpaper_002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6487109266311945112.post-5319823987766322645</id><published>2010-01-26T17:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T22:13:35.839-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Modern Literature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Plato'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ethics'/><title type='text'>Tennessee Williams meets Socrates</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-X4bVd1XI/AAAAAAAAABM/SPzEElMPw6U/s1600-h/CAT10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431226671298368882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-X4bVd1XI/AAAAAAAAABM/SPzEElMPw6U/s200/CAT10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cat on a Hot Tin Roof Case Paper&lt;br /&gt;Part 1:&lt;br /&gt;Cat On A Hot Tin Roof Script-&lt;br /&gt;Screenplay: Richard Brooks and James Poe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: What are you doing over there now?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Freshening up my drink.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Son you know you've a real liquor problem?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Yes, sir.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Is that why you quit sports announcing son ‘cause of liquor?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: I guess so. Yes, sir, that's it.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Don't guess! It's too important! So you quit. What was that, some kind of a disappointment?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: I don't know. Do you?&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: I'm asking you. How should I know if you don't? Son do you think a shot of that whisky would injure my spastic condition?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: No, sir. It might do it some good.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: The sky is open again, boy. It's open!&lt;br /&gt;Brick: That's the way to feel.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: I can breathe. All my life I've been like a doubled-up fist poundin’ and smashin’ and drivin’! But now I'm going to take things easy with them. Do you know what I'm contemplatin’?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: What's that, sir?&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Pleasure! I'll tell you somethin’ boy, I still have a feeling for women, and I'm 65.&lt;br /&gt;Brick: That's mighty remarkable Big Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Remarkable?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Admirable.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: It's not only remarkable and admirable, it's downright satisfying. I'm going to have me a ball.&lt;br /&gt;Brick: A ball?&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: I'm going to pick me a choice woman and I'm going to smother her in minks and choke her with diamonds. I'm going to be happy! Why are you so restless? You got ants in your britches?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Yes, sir.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Something hasn't happened yet.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: What's that?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: A click in my head.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Did you say, "click"?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Yes, sir. That click in my head that makes me feel peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Boy, sometimes you worry me.&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Like a switch clicking off in my head. Turns the hot light off and the cool one on. All of a sudden, there's peace.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Boy you're a real alcoholic!&lt;br /&gt;Brick: That is the truth. Yes, sir, I am an alcoholic. So, if you'll just excuse me.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: No, I won't excuse you!&lt;br /&gt;Brick: I'm waiting for that click and I don't get it unless I'm alone!&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking to no one. When it's absolute quiet!&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: You'll hear plenty of that in the grave. But Right now we're going to talk.&lt;br /&gt;Brick: This talk is like all the others. It gets nowhere and it's painful!&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Let it be painful.&lt;br /&gt;Brick: I can crawl on one foot and hop if I have to.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: If you aren't careful, you'll crawl out this family and have to hustle your drinks on Skid Row.&lt;br /&gt;Brick: Yeah, that will come too.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: No it won’t. Now that I'm straightened out, I'm going to straighten you out. Sit down!&lt;br /&gt;Brick: It's no use. Now we talk in circles and we have nothing to say to each other!&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy: Where are you going?&lt;br /&gt;Brick: To get me another bottle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2:&lt;br /&gt;In Plato’s Gorgias, Socrates and Callicles debate about excellence and pleasure. Callicles argues that to be an excellent human being, one must not “restrain his appetites but let them become as large as possible and then should procure their fulfillment from some source or other” (492d-e). In other words, unless one is constantly seeking for ways to get pleasure, one is not happy as a human should be and therefore lacks excellence. When Socrates argues that the man who is able to restrain his appetites has fullness of contentment (493 e), Callicles says, “The man who has filled himself up has no pleasure any more, and when he’s been filled up and experiences neither joy nor pain, that’s living like a stone… Rather, living pleasantly consists in this: having as much as possible flow in” (494a-b). Socrates seeks to clarify Callicles’ position. “Tell me now whether a man who has an itch and scratches it and can scratch to his heart’s content, scratching his whole life long can also live happily” (494c). Callicles says this is true. Then, Socrates takes Callicles’ argument to its logical conclusion. “What if he scratches only his head- or what am I to ask you further? See what you’ll answer if somebody asked you one after the other every question that comes next. And isn’t that the climax of this sort of thing, the life of catamites, a frightfully shameful and miserable one? Or will you have the nerve to say they are happy as long as they have what they need to our hearts content?” (494e). A catamite is a boy who has sexual relations with a man. What Socrates argues is that allowing one’s appetites to grow as large as possible and then seeking to fulfill them at all costs does not make an excellent human being but leads to shameful actions and therefore a shameful life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 3: &lt;br /&gt;In “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof”, the character of Brick exemplifies Callicles’ argument that one should let one’s appetites grow as large as possible and seek to fulfill them at all costs. Brick admits he has a liquor problem. He admits that his drinking has gotten in the way of important things, such as being a sports announcer. So why does he drink? He drinks because it’s pleasurable. Brick explains this pleasure as a “click.” This “click” is pleasurable because it brings him peace. He seeks this pleasurable “click” at all costs: at the cost of quitting his job as a sports announcer and even at the cost of possibly being extracted from his family and ending up a bum on Skid Row. He has no wish to avoid these things as long as they give way to him being able to get that “click.” The only things he wants to avoid are the things which will not allow him to gratify his appetite. In this case, the obstacle keeping him from getting that “click” is Big Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;Big Daddy also embodies some of Callicles’ argument. He sees seeking pleasure through women as an admirable action. In other words, the fact that Big Daddy can satisfy his appetite for pleasure through women is part of an excellent human being. Although Big Daddy similarly seeks pleasure as the way to happiness, he is also the voice of Socrates. He sees where Brick’s large appetite is leading him: to a shameful life. Big Daddy points out that Brick has succumbed to shameful actions on account of his drinking. He realizes these shameful actions have made Brick unhappy. He knows that Brick quitting his job as a sports announcer is important. He is trying to help Brick see his action of quitting as shameful by asking him, “So you quit. What was that, some kind of a disappointment?” Big Daddy also points to Brick the shameful actions that are yet to come on account of his unchecked appetite. He warns Brick that he will end up a bum on Skid Row, out of the protection of the family. Like Socrates’ quest to correct Callicles of his false beliefs, Big Daddy seeks to cure Brick of his drinking problem. And like Socrates, Big Daddy does not care if Brick suffers pain, so long as Brick can save himself from further leading a shameful life. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-X48RyE5I/AAAAAAAAABU/-xowSjyJSOI/s1600-h/philo-socrates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431226680141288338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-X48RyE5I/AAAAAAAAABU/-xowSjyJSOI/s200/philo-socrates.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6487109266311945112-5319823987766322645?l=campionist.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/feeds/5319823987766322645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6487109266311945112&amp;postID=5319823987766322645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/5319823987766322645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6487109266311945112/posts/default/5319823987766322645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://campionist.blogspot.com/2010/01/tennessee-williams-meets-socrates.html' title='Tennessee Williams meets Socrates'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13296062624236209156</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-pledie5I/AAAAAAAAABo/GDKK4rsZouU/S220/7822_303237745301_627060301_9189751_2504465_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JnYDVXwVDWA/S1-X4bVd1XI/AAAAAAAAABM/SPzEElMPw6U/s72-c/CAT10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
