Alligator: Dead

There has been an alligator in our pond at work. It apparently came up from the creek. Well, it is no longer. Dad got permission from the game warden to shoot it.

Happiness: An Inferior Goal?

A few weeks later, I am still pondering a statement in Mary Gordon's essay "Flannery's Kiss", which I posted earlier on my blog. This section, namely:

Flannery O'Connor: orthodox, celibate, childless, living with her mother, devoted entirely to her art. To the perfection of a form. Unafraid to look at the darkness; unafraid to imagine that human happiness is an inferior question, an inferior goal. Flannery O'Connor: radically unseduced. How can I think of her and not think of myself as heavy with the things of this world: men, children, dogs, food, clothing, all the distractions of sexual allure? The demands of art ignored, pushed aside for the demands of what I call life. But what would she call it? Distraction? Illusion?

Unafraid to imagine that human happiness is an inferior question, an inferior goal.

I don't imagine that Flannery would have said this in her words, but did she say it with her life? It is an interesting question: is there more to life than being happy? If I were to venture into this question, this is what I might say:

It is obvious to any thinking man that every human being seeks happiness in everything he does. Is happiness, though, the end, or the means, of life? I'm tempted to compare it to hunger. Hunger is an appetite that is sated by eating food. Yet, is the feeling of fullness the purpose of this appetite? It seems to me that we experience the desire to eat, not for the feeling of satiety as an end, but as a means to the perfection of our bodies by nourishment. The perfection of the body, via nutrition, is the end of this appetite. The feeling of fullness is pleasurable as a means to entice us toward the perfection of our bodies.

If we look at happiness, then, as an appetite of the the spirit, happiness no longer appears as the purpose of life, but as a means to life's purpose. As hunger drives us to the perfection of our bodies, the desire to be happy drives us to the perfection of our existence. The perfection of our existence is to be true, beautiful, good, and one with God, Who is Truth, Beauty, Goodness, and One. The happiness that can only come from this perfection is what entices us towards it. It seems, then, that we should not say that we seek to be perfect so that we can be happy. Rather, we experience the relentless desire to be happy in order that we might reach perfection and not stop short of it.

Happiness, then, like feeling full from eating, is a side effect growing toward perfection and in its attainment. But, just as the body reaches perfection not only in nourishment, but also in the pain and stress of growing stronger, so our existence grows toward perfection not only by seeking happiness, but also by redemptive suffering.

It seems, then, that happiness, though we cannot help but seek it, is an inferior goal. It is a means toward our perfection. But, if the desire to be happy ever interferes with our growth toward perfection, because of being distorted by concupiscence, it must be subjected to violence, as God does when He permits suffering in this life that leads to perfection.

Lye Bath

I discovered a new use for lye, other than soapmaking. You can soak cast iron cookware in lye to remove the seasoning. Since seasoning is polymerized fat and lye converts fat into soap, it makes sense. After submerging two cast iron pieces in the lye bath, the water turned nearly black within minutes. From what I've read, they should soak in it for a few days before all the seasoning is removed. After that, I plan to reseasoning them with flax oil. 

How Priests Celebrate Mass

The present tendency among Catholics to seek out a particular Mass - one celebrated by a devout or orthodox priest, or compassionate and merciful priest, or friendly, joyful, and energetic priest - shows just what a severe blow the liturgy has received since the aftermath of the Council. The German writer and intellectual Martin Mosebach put it perfectly in his collection of essays on the liturgy called The Heresy of Formlessness. 

"Many people [...] ask, 'Isn't it still possible to celebrate the new liturgy of Paul VI worthily and reverently?' Naturally it is possible, but the very fact that it is possible is the weightiest argument against the new liturgy. It has been said that monarchy's death knell sounds once it becomes necessary for a monarch to be competent: this is because the monarch, in the old sense, is legitimated by his birth, not his talent. This observation is even truer in the case of the liturgy: liturgy's death knell is sounded once it requires a holy and good priest to perform it. The faithful must never regard the liturgy as something the priest does by his own efforts. It is not something that happens by good fortune or as the result of a personal charism or merit. While the liturgy is going on, time is suspended [...] How can a man be made to see that he is leaving the present time behind if the space he enters is totally dominated by the presence of one particular individual? How wise the old liturgy was when it prescribed that the congregation should not see the priest's face - his distractedness or coldness or (even more importantly) his devotion and emotion."

Beautiful weeds

Sometimes weeds are the most beautiful.

And sometimes the beautiful are the ones for which you don't know a name.

How things will end

Ever since I got a water-saving shower head, I've been less concerned about spending longer in the shower. I can spend 14 minutes in the shower and use the same amount of water as 5 minutes with a standard shower head. Yes, I know this defeats the purpose of the water-saving shower head.

This morning, I was drowsy and didn't want to get out of the shower. The hot water just felt so good. "All good things have to end," I though, half asleep. "All good things must end."

Then I snapped. "All good things must not end," I thought, in a flash of wakefulness. "Everything evil must end. Good shall endure. Good is the only thing that will endure."

"Endure, yes, endure," I thought, lingering longer in the hot water. Then I snapped awake again and turned off the water. "Good shall endure in eternity. In this life good things must end. They only prepare us for life in the next."

Salix

A red postal jeep with the steering wheel on the right side landed in the driveway drawing a trail of gravel dust. The woman handed me a box with three stamps on it: a bleeding heart and two Madonna lilies (Tränendes Herz 100 Deutschland, Madonnenlilie 260 Deutschland). Inside was a glass bottle of the iron/gall-nut-ink in the color "Salix". Salix is Latin for willow.

This kind of ink dates back to the Middle Ages, at least, and was commonly used in manuscripts. It's very long-lasting. I've read good reviews of this ink, and hope to put it to work using my fountain pen again.