In my columns about gay marriage and abortion, I did not mention religion at all, because I was not basing my arguments on religious belief but simply on logic, which, it may surprise some to hear, is not incompatible with religion, though they can be separated.
However, the negative response I received still accused me of wanting to impose a religion-based government on the nation. I’d like to acknowledge the positive responses I received, of which there were far more.
Read the rest here.
But now, given the privilege of writing the My View right before Christmas, it would be remiss not to mention that I am Christian, a Catholic. My college degree is in theology. So I’m going to talk about Christmas from a Christian perspective, but I hope what I say can be applied to a non-Christian experience of the holiday too.
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| St. James Matamoros |
Visiting Ireland in college, I entered a self-proclaimed socialist book store. The stock was mostly Marxist books and pictures of Che Guevera, but in a corner was a random pile of used books, including an art book of Romanian icons for €3 (then about $5). When I went to buy it, the young man at the counter stood unresponsive for a while, then said scornfully, “Three euros. Is it worth that much?” This shows a socialist mindset: he made no effort to encourage the sale or provide good service, no individual striving for profit and success. I left thinking we’d never have places in America openly call themselves socialist, but now I’m not sure. Presidential candidate Bernie Sanders does just that and many publications defend it. When and how did this become OK?
Read the rest here.
Socialism is defined as public ownership of the means of production. Supposedly the people own it, but an entire population of a country cannot manage every farm and factory. So you have government administrators who decide how goods and services are produced and distributed. Socialism promises free stuff for everyone. But history shows it delivers death.
Read the rest here.
Since I’m very far under 60, my memories of Aitkin don’t go as far back as those of many folks but I still remember fondly many places that are no longer here. Thinking of these long-gone shops, I feel I’m old enough to look at kids these days and think that they don’t know what they’re missing.
My favorite place to visit in town was Ben Franklin. Since we were on vacation and there were grandparents around, we had better chances of getting toys when we asked for them there than back at home. There was also the small pet section in the back, where we would spend what seemed like hours but was probably about 10 minutes watching the fish, hamsters and birds. There were bins of candy at one cent each and the front windows were covered with suncatchers, so many so close together so as to look like one huge stained glass window.
Read the rest here.
I grew up knowing next to nothing about sports.
When I was very little, my family went to a few baseball games at the Astrodome. (That shows how long ago this was.) I hardly paid attention to the game; the draw for me was ice cream, peanuts and lemon slushies. But over time, I did – very basically – learn how baseball worked.
That was the extent of my sports knowledge until, in college, I went to study abroad in Northern Ireland. We studied, then attended a game of the at-least 1,600-year-old sport of hurling. It was quite chaotic and the players were very passionate; sticks were broken, they kept playing after helmets fell off and intentional personal fouls happened almost every time a goal was made.
This covers all my knowledge of sports up until last year, when my sister and I moved to Aitkin and started attending Gobbler football games.
I've attended the Aitkin County Fair almost every year as long as I can remember.
Read the rest here.
First we would walk through the 4H and industrial buildings, get food, look at animals, then, finally, ride the rides. When I was a child, the buildings held little interest, except for saying hi to my grandfather, Dean Sanford, at the Minnesota Deer Hunters' Association booth. Now I’m older I find more than the rides and animals interesting but the industrial buildings are still where I’d spend the least time, preferentially. But that’s where I spent the most time this year, because for the first time, I volunteered at a booth.
It may be bold of me to write this column, as it is only my second and what I am going to say runs counter to the attitudes of many, including my fellow columnist Pam King, whose words you may have read last week. It may get me labeled a homophobe who cannot possibly be motivated by anything but pure hate. The fact that, as mentioned in my introductory column, I am proudly Texan may also get my argument rejected without consideration.
There are even newspapers which have announced that since the Supreme Court ruling, they will publish no columns nor letters opposing or criticizing same-sex marriage, since it’s now the law of the land. I wonder if they will be consistent and disallow opinions not in line with any current law, silencing argument for any change or new legislation.
I trust the impartiality of the Age enough to know I wouldn’t get fired for this, but I would at some places. Anyway, I am not now going to say anything about the right or wrong of same-sex sexual relationships. I am simply going to say something that should be obvious but seems to be overlooked: it is not the same thing as marriage.Read the whole thing here.
Read the rest here, if you like.
When there’s a place that is in childhood seen as paradise, living there in adulthood brings both gratification and trials. Such is my situation, having come to Aitkin every summer of my life, last year moving here for good.
Of course, everyone said I would hate the winter and while I still insist snow is magical, when it snowed on Easter Monday I finally admitted I’d had enough of it. Other trials spring from the economy, remoteness and more bureaucratic regulation than in my home state of Texas. I’m extremely lucky to have this job at the Age. It’s not what I wanted to be when I grew up – that’s an artist, which I also am, freelance – but I find means to be enthusiastic about it through my greatest passion, fiction.
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| Art by Anna MacArthur |
Someday I want to have on this blog a section where I talk about works of fiction that have a Pro-Life message. Abortion is the primary and greatest sin of our age, or any age, because when you look at the numbers of victims it is obviously the largest genocide in the whole of recorded history. Since 1973, there have been approximately 50,000,000 abortions in America alone. I want you to think about that number for a moment. Don't just read it as a big number; try to actually imagine that amount of people. This is more people than you have ever met. This is more people than you have ever heard of. More people than live in your state. More than every single person who died in the civil war. More than every single person who died in World War Two, including both soldiers and Holocaust victims. Now remember that that is only the number of victims in America.Read the whole thing here.
Not only is the death toll staggering, but these people are the most innocent and vulnerable people that exist. They are not soldiers or criminals, they are children, and they are being killed in some of the most excruciating ways imaginable. This is happening right now. It is happening constantly. Any time throughout the day when you're not thinking about it, it's happening.
Yes, I am trying to make you feel guilty.
