McBrien: ignorance is bliss.

h/t LarryD

There has been some discussion among bloggers about Fr Richard McBrien's latest article, in which he discusses the apostolic visitation of women religious in the United States, mostly debating his theology and errors therein. I have discussed some of McBrien's articles in the past using my training in deconstruction and rhetoric to examine how he creates himself to be the one true point of view. I don't do so very often, because, quite frankly, fisking McBrien is like hunting cows. His bag of tricks is rather limited, as I have shown in the past, and he shows an unwillingness to discuss or even engage with his opponents, even as he condemns them for being unwilling to discuss or engage his point of view.

This new article has an interesting twist to it. This time McBrien's argument hinges on absolutely nothing at all. His article is in blue, my comments black.


In a letter written on Feb. 20, the prefect of the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal William Levada, informed the officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious that the Congregation would be conducting a "doctrinal assessment" of the organization.

The Leadership Conference is an association of the leaders of congregations of Catholic women religious in the United States, with more than 1,500 members representing about 95 percent of the 68,000 U.S. women religious.

As is typical with McBrien, he begins with a few truths. He is an observer, presenting simple facts. He continues in this line for the next few paragraphs.

In a statement released soon thereafter, the officers acknowledged receipt of the letter and pointed out that the conference "faces this process with confidence, believing that the conference has remained faithful to its mission of service to leaders of congregations of women religious as they seek to further the mission of Christ in today's world."

The Vatican assessment became necessary, according to Cardinal Levada, because the three issues that were surfaced at a 2001 meeting in Rome between the officers of the conference and the Congregation remain in his mind unresolved.

Still true, but the facts are being canted slightly in their presentation. "According to Cardinal Levada" and "in his mind" are phrases that begin to shift the presentation. McBrien is still presenting facts, but his facts are the facts of someone's opinion- they exist in that person's mind. Pay attention to the "mind" in this one.

Those three areas of doctrinal concern are the 1994 apostolic letter Ordinatio sacerdotalis on the ordination of women to the priesthood, the Congregation's 2000 declaration Dominus Iesus on the unique role of Christ in salvation, and "the problem of homosexuality."

Levada informed the officers of the conference that "Given the tenor and the doctrinal content of various addresses given at the annual assemblies of the conference in the intervening years, this dicastery can only conclude that the problems which had motivated its request in 2001 continue to be present."

Levada also acknowledged that his decision to conduct this "doctrinal assessment" was reached in concert with Cardinal Franc Rodé, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, which had announced last December that it was initiating a "visitation" of communities of women religious in the United States, to examine the "quality of life" among their members and to determine why their numbers have declined in recent decades.

Still quoting, still citing facts, although the use of scare quotes- a common McBrien technique- begins to call to question and insert a kind of ironic observation on what are otherwise objective facts. McBrien is both establishing himself as a neutral observer- his favoured position- while at the same time setting up his perceived opponents for dismissal. And here it comes.

Not having at hand copies of the talks given at conference assemblies since 2001, I am not in a position to evaluate Levada's expressed concern about these addresses nor how the three issues (women's ordination, salvation, and homosexuality) were treated in these presentations.

Here's where people's jaws start dropping. This is the hinge point of the article. For the first time in this article, McBrien inserts himself. He moves from being an objective impersonal observer to a personal subjective one, and the first thing he does is admit a lack. The very thing he needs to address the concerns of Levada is something he lacks. As a former academic addressing an article written by someone who always, always touts their own academic credentials, this is a shocking omission. You always, always research the topic you address. If a potential academic were to sit before a board of examiners and admit they knew nothing of a critical piece of information, he would be flunked immediately with contempt. Yet McBrien flaunts his lack, and continues on. How then can he address the Cardinal's concerns?

However, I do know enough about the nature and history of the Leadership Conference to express amazement that there could be any "doctrinal" concerns about the organization and its leadership.

He addresses it by using his own personal experience. Once again, "trust me, for I know," is the unwritten underpinning of McBrien's article. Although, in conjunction with the last paragraph, he seems to be saying "Trust me, for I don't know." Also, note the return of the scare quotes. Irony and dismissal of Levada instead of addressing and dealing with Levada's concerns. After all, how can he address Levada's concerns when he doesn't even have the documents to which Levada referred? His ignorance becomes the enabling condition for McBrien's defence of the Leadership Conference. It reminds me of the old Matlock series: "Your honour, I don't know spit about law, but I remember when I was a boy catching crawdads up on crackleberry creek..." I believe the Latin phrase is "non sequitor."

Some of the finest women religious in the United States, and worldwide, have headed the Leadership Conference. By identifying only a sample, I do not mean to imply that those sisters who remain unmentioned are (or were) of lesser quality and achievement.

So he knows the women to be fine, and therefore the cardinal can have no objection.

The list of past national chairpersons and presidents of the Leadership Conference reads like a Hall of Fame of religious life: Mary Luke Tobin, Thomas Aquinas (Elizabeth) Carroll, Margaret Brennan, Francis Borgia Rothleubber, Joan Chittister, Mary Dooley, Theresa Kane, Nadine Foley, Doris Gottemoeller, Camille D'Arienzo, and so many others.

Moreover, the Leadership Conference's mission statement is as straightforward in its pastoral and doctrinal purposes as it could possibly be: "to promote a developing understanding and living of religious life by: assisting its members personally and communally to carry out more collabora-tively their service of leadership in order to accomplish further the mission of Christ in today's world; fostering dialogue and collaboration among religious congregations within the church and in the larger society; [and] developing models for initiating and strengthening relationships with groups concerned with the needs of society, thereby maximizing the potential of the conference for effecting change."

This is the only document from the Leadership conference which he cites, since he does not cite the documents to which Cardinal Levada referred in his letter. How, then, can this be a defence against the Cardinal's concerns? Because of the ethical proof upon which McBrien so often depends. "Trust me, for I know." He uses that proof to make two thrusts. First, note the positive terms with which he introduced the above quotation. Then look at the negative terms which frame the next paragraph, which is most emphatically not a quotation. But McBrien knows. McBrien even knows the Cardinal's "mind".

But there are certain key words and phrases, like "developing," "dialogue," "collaboration," "change," and "today's world," that are red flags for some church officials and a minority of women religious who are locked into the religious culture of the 1940s and 1950s, when nuns wore elaborate habits, remained for the most part confined to their convents and religious houses, took the names assigned to them, often those of male saints, and limited their apostolic activity principally to teaching children, and ministering to the sick, orphans, and unmarried pregnant girls.

After dismissing the concerns of the Cardinal, he now presents what he sees as the Cardinal's real motives. He has once again raised a straw man to be bashed about, even though there is no trace- none- of this in the first part of his article, nor is it to be found in Cardinal Levada's letter by McBrien's own admission. Had these concerns been presented in Levada's letter, it would have made sense for McBrien to have cited it rather than create this out of whole cloth. Again, McBrien is dismissive and contemptuous of those with whom he disagrees. McBrien now launches into his peroration, his final act of rhetoric to convince everyone of his truth, leading up to a final statement.

It was unthinkable in those pre-conciliar years for a nun to appear in secular clothes, however simple, to engage in apostolic activities outside the convent or religious house, to reclaim their baptismal names, and to become engaged in ministries of social justice, human rights, and peace.

It was even more unthinkable that these now highly educated women would begin to think for themselves and to speak and act accordingly.

That is what seems to bother their critics the most.

McBrien has dismissed everything he started with in the beginning of this article, a typical McBrien move, everything about the Cardinal's letter asking for an examination of certain specific doctrinal issues stemming from certain specific presentations at certain specific conferences, as being dishonest in order to present his own view of what this visitation is really about. Breathtakingly, he does this not despite the fact that he doesn't know what the Cardinal was speaking about in his concerns, but because he doesn't know what the Cardinal was speaking about. Not having those conference notes in front of him is not a hindrance to this article, it is the article's enabling condition. Ignorance is not only bliss, it is a virtue to be trumpeted. I don't know anything about that, says McBrien. But I do know something else. His entire article makes about as much sense as a conversation that runs like this:

1: How you feeling today?

2: Not so good.

1: That can't be true, because I feel fine.

"I have concerns," says Levada. "That can't be true," says McBrien, "because I don't know what you're talking about. It must be something else." Judging from this article, this is McBrien's idea of proof.

Hermeneutics of Control

H/t LarryD

A while back I did a couple of fisks of articles by Richard McBrien. At the time I pointed out how McBrien set himself up as a neutral observer, while at the same time promoting one side of a debate and denigrating the other. He used a variety of tactics- snide remarks, straw men and others- to promote his argument.

I haven't done many fisks after that, and I rarely read his articles. The few I have read are slightly different in tone than the ones I fisked. He wasn't using straw men so much, and he made fewer asides or backhanded remarks. It is possible he is growing more mellow. It is also possible he is using more sophisticated rhetoric now. It is also possible he is doing neither. With that in mind, I am going to examine a recent article of McBrien's in which he examines the recent lifting of the excommunications of the four SSPX bishops. As always, my main focus will be on how he goes about making his arguments. His article is in blue, my comments are in black.

Pope Benedict on Vatican II

The controversy generated by Pope Benedict XVI's recent lifting of the excommunications from the four bishops of the Priestly Fraternity of St. Pius X (also known as the Society of St. Pius X) has given some critics, on both left and right, occasion to question the pope's commitment to the Second Vatican Council.

This is all true and even fair. As I said, he is not taking potshots. Rather he is setting himself up as an observer making comments on a controversy.

On the left, some voice the suspicion that the pope is really in sympathy with those who question whether the council really changed anything in the Catholic church, even if his views do not exactly match those of the Society of St. Pius X, which openly rejects the council in whole or in substantial part. (Emphasis added)

This is also true. There are two points of curiosity here for me. The first is the double use of the word "really". Really is tricky term. It indicates that the writer or speaker is looking through a veil and seeing what lies behind. They are seeing reality, when others are not. But here he uses the word for the visions of both the left and the right. The left suspects the Pope is really in sympathy with those on the right who question if the council really changed anything. The balance is almost perfect. As I said, curious.

The second curious point is that McBrien is already separating the Pope from the SSPX. Their views, McBrien says, "do not exactly match." In the past, at least in the articles I read, McBrien showed little inclination to defend the Pope. Yet here it is. Let's see where he goes with this.

On the right, there is quiet rejoicing (And I would say a lot of not so quiet rejoicing- McBrien is being diplomatic.) over the lifting of the excommunications because for these critics the action confirms their belief that Pope Benedict also harbors serious reservations about Vatican II.

And again, I have no argument against this. In fact, I agree with it. I will say it: McBrien is exactly right so far. I cannot deny it.

So now he has set up the two sides, and outlined their basic points, and, if I am to evaluate it, he has been fair thus far. In many of his past articles, he endorses one side and dismisses the other, uses it as a "straw man" to make his own preference seem stronger and more forceful. If he is intending to use a straw man here, it is unclear which side it will be as yet. Let's continue.

Both sides, however, seem to base their judgments on the pope's previously stated views (especially in his address to the Roman Curia at Christmas 2005) that distinguished between two opposing interpretations of the council: what he called, on the one hand, a "hermeneutics of discontinuity" and, on the other, a "hermeneutics of reform."

This too is good. McBrien has outlined his point quite well. He is writing in a tone that is objective; he has not chosen sides and he has spoken- I cannot call it anything else- the truth. He has here introduced a term we used to call a "shifter", in this case, the word "however" This indicates that he is about to move in a different direction from what has come thus far. This is the crux of the matter. At the moment, he has just collapsed the two sides: for all their differences, they share a common point of origin. In the next paragraph, he explains that there is a problem with this.

The problem is that both sides, left and right, have interpreted the pope's own view, not as he actually expressed it, namely, as a "hermeneutics of reform," but as they assumed he meant it, namely, as a "hermeneutics of continuity."

Here is a problem indeed. McBrien is now proposing to explain the varying interpretations of the Pope's attempt to explain the varying interpretations of Vatican II. To explain myself fully, I need to digress away from this article for some length to speak about McBrien's key term here: "interpreted".

Interpretation and hermeneutics has long been a hotbed of debate, particularly after the arrival of post-modernism on the academic scene. To cut to the chase, the post modernists claimed that no interpretation of a "text" (and what they mean by text is really, really open to interpretation) is ever perfect. (I should hasten to add that none of the people they opposed ever claimed that there was such a thing as a perfect interpretation.) Since there is no such thing as a perfect interpretation, or reading, as we were fond of saying, then a valid reading is also, to a certain extent, a mis-reading. As sometimes happens, the argument was pushed further, and the "to a certain extent" get removed. Now you have the statement: A valid reading is also a misreading. Later still, with a stunning leap of illogic and hubris, the terms were reversed: A misreading is a valid reading. My failure to agree with this equation lead to no small trouble for myself in the department.

Added to this mix was another post modernist idea: infinite possibilities of readings or interpretations. Many post modern critics would claim that the number of possible readings/interpretations of a text was infinite, and then, as a demonstration of this infinitude, would iterate five or six.

While I could agree that no interpretation is complete or perfect, and I could also agree to the potential infinity of variations of readings, I used to warn my students against carrying this theory too far. A text may support any number of readings. This does not mean that it will support just any reading. For example, if a student were to explain to me that Hamlet is the story of a young farm boy on a distant planet who one day receives a cryptic message carried by one of his two new droids which direct him to seek a meeting with an old warrior of an ancient society who happens to carry with him the young farm boy's father's magic sword etc etc etc, this student would not be giving me a misreading which is still valid, that student would be flat out wrong.

Or, to put it in terms more familiar to the Catholic bloggers: How can one take the phrase: "The use of the Latin language is to be preserved in the Roman Rite" and interpret it to mean "Latin is hereby banned."? Is this misreading a valid reading, or is it something else? A lie, perhaps?

There are many tricks to lying, many ways. There are, of course, the gross and overt lies. There are also more subtle ways. One way is to tell just the right amount of truth, and then stop. Another is to sandwich a lie between two truths. Either way, I wish to now return to McBrien. Remember how I said how everything he said was true? Here McBrien makes a distinction between hermeneutics of reform and hermeneutics of continuity. The Pope used them as synonyms. McBrien has just told a lie. From what he has set up, he is now going to base his interpretation on that lie.

He has also answered a question: which of the original two groups is going to be the strawman? The answer is: both. Let's continue now.

In an article in the Feb. 2 issue of America magazine, Fr. Joseph Komonchak, professor of religious studies at The Catholic University of America, effectively challenges this assumption ("Novelty in Continuity: Pope Benedict's Interpretation of Vatican II").

Now McBrien has done something typical. he has introduced a favoured authority, one who will explain McBrien's point of view, and he endorses this point of view, but in seemingly objective terms. This new article "effectively challenges this assumption". McBrien is still observing, but now he is trying to direct your attention to this new point of view. He doesn't present this view as it challenges his left/right dichotomy earlier, rather it is presented as already having challenged and defeated that point of view.

The pope had begun his address to the Roman Curia by contrasting two ways of interpreting the council. The first interpretation Benedict did call the "hermeneutics of discontinuity," which he described as an approach that runs the risk of positing a rupture between the preconciliar and postconciliar church.

This is true.

According to Fr. Komonchak's rendition of the pope's remarks, this approach "disparages the texts of the council as the result of unfortunate compromises and favors instead the elements of novelty in the documents."

No argument here. Once again, we are starting off with some truths.

Komonchak notes that some undoubtedly expected the pope to call the position he favors the "hermeneutics of continuity," in contrast to the "hermeneutics of discontinuity." Instead, he called it the "hermeneutics of reform" and devoted the greater part of his address to explaining what he meant by that phrase.

Now McBrien will interpret Komonchak's interpretation of the Pope's interpretation etc etc.

He did not mean that the council changed nothing. "After all," Komonchak writes, "if there is no discontinuity, one can hardly speak of reform."

This is true, but with a caveat. Remember my line about how the academics reversed the reading and misreading dichotomy? Same thing here. Reform is a mixture of continuity and discontinuity. It is based on the old, but it introduces something different, something new. Both sides exist, in sort of the way that an elephant can be simultaneously like a wall, a tree, a snake, a leaf and a rope. Pope Benedict spoke of both reform and continuity. McBrien and Komonchak turn that into discontinuity, along the same lines of "Latin=no Latin"

On the eve of the council, Pope Benedict pointed out, three "circles of questions" had formed, all of which challenged the church to a new way of thinking and acting: about the relationships between faith and modern science, the church and the modern state, and the church and other religions.

In each area, the pope insisted, "some kind of discontinuity might emerge and in fact did emerge," but it was "a discontinuity that did not require the abandonment of traditional princi-ples."

"It is precisely in this combination of continuity and discontinuity at different levels that the very nature of true reform consists."

As I said, the Pope is addressing both reform and continuity. McBrien and his preferred writer here wish to see that as the Pope embracing discontinuity.

Vatican II's new definitions of the relationships between the church, on the one hand, and science, the state, and non-Christian religions, on the other, required the council to rethink and even correct earlier historical decisions in order to "preserve and deepen the church's inmost nature and identity."

Komonchak concedes, however, that "the clear disjunction between the two rival hermeneutical orientations with which the pope began his remarks [became] rather blurred in the course of his argument" -- which is also why some readers may have difficulty fully grasping the central point of this week's column.

The Pope's words were not sufficiently clear, which is why we need these people to help clear out the cobwebs. The Pope's distinctions become rather blurred, some people don't understand it (McBrien often makes claims about some people not understanding this or that and therefore needing someone like him to come along and clear things up) and therefore McBrien and Komonchak are doing a public service by coming around and clearing it up with their brand new clarification: Continuity=discontinuity.

Benedict's concept of reform involves important elements of discontinuity. In Komonchak's words: "A hermeneutics of discontinuity need not see rupture everywhere; and a hermeneutics of reform, it turns out, acknowledges some important discontinuities."

After that clarification, McBrien and Komonchak concludes with a few more such clarifications, and with these we see the return of the weasel words "really" and "real"

Komonchak suggests that the real target of the pope's words may have been the traditionalist followers of Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre, who reject the council because of its perceived discontinuities from church doctrine.

The papal address could be read, therefore, as an effort to persuade traditionalists "that a distinction is legitimately made between the level of doctrine ... and the level of concrete application. ..."

However, some critics on the left and right have concluded, in the aftermath of Benedict's lifting of the excommunications, that the pope is really siding with the Lefevbrites.
Such an assumption is open to serious challenge, and Joseph Komonchak's article in A-merica helps us to see why this is so.

A curious article, not as polemic as some of McBrien's writing, but curious nonetheless. What I see here is a subtle shift in debate. McBrien, rather than arguing that the Pope is wrong, as he has done in the past, is here providing the reader with an interpretation of the Pope's words- the interpretation that he, McBrien, endorses repeatedly. A "Spirit of Pope Benedict", if you will. Very often, to interpret a work is to assert control over it: the interpreter makes the work say what he wants it to say, while at the same time claiming that this is what the work "really" said in the first place. A cunning argument. All McBrien's interpretation needs is for the reader to swallow one small, insignificant lie. Then all becomes clear. Misinterpretation=interpretation. discontinuity=continuity. lie=truth. wrong=right.

Hollow Men, part ii

Our Dried Voices

Last week I posted on an article by Father Richard McBrien about the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum and the liberalisation of the Extraordinary Form. (Thank you, Paul and Dad29 for your kind reviews) Rather than attempt a direct theological rebuttal of his arguments, I rather sought to explain how he made those arguments, and attempted to persuade his reader that his viewpoint was the correct one.

He does this in a few ways. He takes the pose of a casual observer who is merely observing a debate. He is not making an argument, you see, he is merely observing one, and evaluating it. In so doing he is hiding the fact that he has created both sides of the debate himself, and we know this because he offers no quotations and no proof for anything he says for most of the article, until the end. He uses the Straw Man Technique extensively, in which he builds up one side- the side which is against the return of the Latin Mass- as having an "overwhelming majority" armed with certainty and backed by "many liturgists" while he diminishes the other side of the debate as a "tiny minority" which only "seems" to know what they want and only have the back of a pope who writes solely on his own authority. Finally, the entire proof for McBrien's article is an unspoken "Ethical Proof," which, simply put, is "Trust me, for I know."

At the end of his article, McBrien introduced his one piece of corroborating evidence: an article by a Bishop Wcela, whose tale of how a Latin Mass was let go at one of his parishes provided the entire justification for McBrien's article. McBrien ended the article by promising to come back next week with more on Wcela's thoughts.


He has now come out with that article, and I will go over it again as I did with the last. Again, it is not my aim to debate theology, but rather how McBrien constructs his point to be the only true one.


When We Speak


He begins thusly:

The Latin Mass, continued

He continues with the title from last week. Again, he this title conflates two Masses into one. While the Extraordinary Form must be done in Latin, the Ordinary Form may be done in Latin as well. As we saw last week, his argument that the Extraordinary Form should not come back ultimately rested on an anecdote that people didn't miss the Ordinary Form in Latin. He is continuing that non sequitor here.

By Rev. Richard McBrien

Bishop Emil Wcela, the retired auxiliary bishop of the Diocese of Rockville Centre, has written one of the best articles on the controversy surrounding the pope's recent authorization of the Tridentine Latin Mass. The article is entitled, "A Dinosaur Ponders The Latin Mass," and was published in the October 8 issue of America magazine.

As with last week's article, he is beginning by making observations. He is setting up his subject- an article by a bishop on the controversy. He is beginning by evaluation the article- it is one of the "best".

Wcela, who is now 76, has had broad pastoral experience - as a seminary professor, a bishop, and as pastor of one of the largest parishes on Long Island. That experience has taught him "that the vast majority of people find that [the Mass in English] enriches their understanding and participation."

Here McBrien outlines the bishop's credentials, and is setting him up as someone who should be trusted, so when the bishop says "the vast majority of people etc." he is already established as a knowledgeable source. He is going again with the ethical proof. Trust him, he knows. He must, because not only does he have all this experience, but he also wrote one of the "best articles" on this subject.

He concedes that there have been some minor problems in translating a few of the Latin prayers into English, and that "there are still priests who look upon the Mass as a showplace for their dubious creative talents rather than as a shared worship of the community of which they are a part."

Concessions are always interesting, for in a concession one takes control of one's opponent's argument and represents it in the way you choose. Further, by conceding a point, one is also in a way absorbing the opponent's argument and making it part of one's own, or at least controlling it. For example, the first point he concedes is minimized- at least in McBrien's synopsis- as "some minor problems" dealing with a "few" prayers. The second concession, quoted directly from Wcela is made more strongly and without qualification. But next comes another minor, qualified concession.

He also recognizes that some of the music employed in the liturgy leaves something to be desired. Trying to participate in Masses where the music is peculiar to a particular parish "calls for special dedication, because one encounters music known only to the local parishioners and to God."

Here we have a third concession. On the whole the writer is saying "Yes, there are problems... Yes, some people do have a point..." This is similar to last week's article where McBrien conceded that the people who advocate the return of the Mass had a right to speak- except what they said was irrelevant. Notice how the points are again minimized. "Some music", he allows, "left something to be desired."

I mentioned they made a strong and unqualified concession about priests exercising their dubious talents. That concession is now sandwiched between two minor qualified concessions. Does anyone remember Moonstruck, and Cher going to confession? She would talk at length about some minor sins, quickly slip in something major, and then back at length to another minor sin, in the hopes the priest wouldn't catch the big one in between. Same thing here. But I'll give a little credit: it could have been left out entirely.

Concessions, as I said, seem to admit that the opponent has a point. But it also allows the writer to control the representation of those points, and how they come through in the debate. That is what has happened here. McBrien and Wcela have allowed some points of their opponents do exist, and in so doing have taken control of those points. Further, it makes it seem that those points are the only points the other side has. One of my old Professors used to call this technique "inoculation". By injecting some of one sides points into an argument, the other side renders itself immune to the rest.

One more point: notice these concessions are made to no one in particular. No one in particular is making these points. These men are speaking simultaneously for themselves and for their opponents- except they are creating their own opponents once more. The straw man has returned.

But first, there's another concession coming. Perhaps the other side of the debate has another point. Or does it?

Bishop Wcela notes that when the Mass in English first arrived in the years immediately following the Second Vatican Council (which adjourned in December 1965), there were early reports of liturgical abuses. It was said that some of the so-called "new breed" of priests were celebrating with Pepsi and pizza instead of bread and wine.

This is a sort of concession, but a distanced one. Instead of saying these problems actually existed, he is saying they existed as "reports". As with the other concessions, these reports come from no one in particular. If this claim is true, then it is the worst of all the claims against them so far. But watch for what happens next.

Are As Quiet And Meaningless As

"Despite all the talk," Bishop Wcela writes, "I never met anyone who had actually been at such a 'mass.'" Nor did I.

No One in Particular, it turns out, is a very unreliable source. Wcela is suggesting that because neither he nor anyone else attended such a Mass, it never happened. McBrien lends his own voice to this suggestion. And you know what? I'll lend my own voice to it as well. I never even heard of such a thing, nor have I heard of anyone who has heard of such a thing, until this point was raised.

So why is it raised? It does a few things. Mostly, it makes the last objection from No One in Particular a fiction. If he had stopped at, say, the point about music, the last point made would indeed be a valid (if weak) point. This way, the last point of those who would oppose themselves to Wcela (and McBrien)- the strongest of the points they admit against themselves before they deny it- is not a point at all.

Secondly, it tends - implicitly, not explicitly- to cast doubt on the other points of No One In Particular as well. The point is cast as an urban legend. It is not put into this piece in spite of its fictionality, but because of its fictionality. McBrien and Wcela are implicitly saying: 'look, those other guys will even make up stuff and use urban legendsto bolster their arguments, whereas we use only our thinking and experience.' This puts Wcela (and McBrien- let's not forget who is writing this piece) in a strong position as they begin to represent their own point of view. It sets them on the road of rejecting counter arguments, which is what they proceed to do. For that, they need a few more straw men. This time, however, they actually exist. Sort of.

Wind in Dried Grass

Bishop Wcela cites two recent articles in support of the Latin Mass that, for him, only underscore the weakness of the arguments that have been mounted in favor of it. The one that appeared in Time magazine (July 30) was mainly concerned about the poor quality of sermons. The author's solution, however, was hardly designed to correct the problem.

I have not seen this article, and with the poor citation- no author's name is mentioned and we must wait until the next paragraph to learn that this person is a "she"thus the number of possible authors in half- it is not easy to look the author up. Not to wory, they'll tell us everything we need to know about this author and her article. Notice that this person's argument is dismissed as it is presented. McBrien/Wcela is not refuting the argument as presenting it as already refuted.

The "argument" was that, if the Mass were celebrated in a language that nobody understands and the priest presided with his back to the people, then she wouldn't have to listen to sermons on social issues with which she disagrees.

Ah, scare quotes. Putting the word argument in quotation marks is something like saying a word in an ironic tone. It does not change the literal meaning at all. What it does change is the effect of reading it- shifts the force- to the opposite. It suggests the argument is not worthy of the name argument, and is not an argument at all.

Furthermore, instead of quoting the article, he gives a synopsis, so the author's own words are not to be seen in this piece. What she actually says in this article I cannot tell. McBrien/Wcela may be giving an accurate portrayal of the piece. They may not. One way or the other, they have created a flyweight for themselves to push over.

"The Mass itself," Bishop Wcela observes, "would be a kind of mantra, a reassuring background for her personal thoughts about God and other things. Not much of a reason for a Latin Mass," he continues, "especially since not every bishop, priest or deacon will always be an inspiring preacher --- regardless of the language spoken."

A technical point- the sermon is no reason for denying the Latin Mass, which is what this whole article is about. Even in a Latin Mass- whether Ordinary or Extraordinary Form- the sermon is in the vernacular. So the bishop responds to "her" non sequitor with one of his own.

The other article, in The Tablet (July 21), the weekly newspaper of the diocese of Brooklyn, favored the Latin Mass because of what Pope Benedict XVI has referred to as "arbitrary deformations of the liturgy." Bishop Wcela's impression from reading the piece is that the author believes that every Mass in English is by definition a "deformation."

Another article by No One in Particular. This one is reduced in its entirety to Wcela's "impression." But trust him. He knows. Or McBrien knows. Or McBrien knows that he knows, and you should know because they know, y'know?

The author pointed out that she "loves to have the priest with his back to the congregation, facing the east, the direction from which Christ will some day return."

Huzzah! A quotation from this "She-Who-Is-No-One-In-Particular". At least we now have a solid point to be refuted.

Bishop Wcela's rebuttal-question is decisive: "Does it count for nothing that at the Mass Christ is with us then and there? When I imagine celebrating again toward the back wall, even an eastern wall, I remember how deeply moved I was the first time I was able to celebrate facing the congregation, whose faith and life I shared."

Except this decisive counter rebuttal has nothing to do with her statement. A technical point for McBrien: A rhetorical question is never a decisive counter argument. It is no counter argument at all in this case. He is not responding to her point, he is shifting the terms of the argument. In so doing, he has left her point intact. Also note, his statement is nothing more than his own personal impression and feeling. He was "deeply moved". He and McBrien expect us to be as well.

The author of the Brooklyn Tablet article readily admitted that she understands little Latin. But for her, "That's what the missal is for."

Here we have another quotation set up for rebuttal. And here it comes:

Again, Bishop Wcela punctures the "argument": "I certainly cannot dictate for anyone what brings them more deeply into the Eucharist. But I can only shake my head in puzzlement when I hear people talk of how good it is to celebrate Mass in a language they do not understand, while I continue my struggle to learn Spanish so that members of a different congregation can celebrate Mass in a language they do understand."

Again with the scare quotes. Apparently there is some rule for debate I missed: if you can't refute 'em, mock 'em. Once again, the argument is no argument, it is already null and void, all that is left is the burial. Wcela allows that he won't dictate what brings anyone closer to God, but then proceeds to ironically do just that. He shakes his head in puzzlement: He does not understand. This is how Wcela- to use McBrien's term- "punctures" the argument. He shakes his head in confusion.

Bishop Wcela expresses his appreciation for Pope Benedict XVI's "deep pastoral concern" toward those who have separated themselves from the Catholic Church because of the loss of the Latin Mass, and he hopes that the pope's initiative will prove to be fruitful.

This is very nice of the Bishop and McBrien to approve of the Pope. By now you should know McBrien/Wcela are only allowing points in order to refute them. And here it comes.

"Over the years, though, my experience with a few members of these splinter groups has convinced me that the Latin Mass is at most a rallying point, a handy focus. The real issues go much deeper, into faith, the meaning of church and God's salvific will."

The first part of the article- last week's article- started with the Motu Proprio and ended up mixing the Ordinary Form in latin with the Extraordinary Form, reducing the entire debate to language. This last quotation, placed in its context of following the statement about Benedict's "pastoral concern" is saying that the whole project was misguided in the first place. The entire debate is again reduced to language. Wcela and McBrien rise above that. They see more clearly than the Pope.

Again we get a punchline:

Bishop Wcela's article is required reading for anyone with an opinion on this subject.

McBrien is again authoritatively dictating the terms of the debate. They are his terms, and Wcela's article, which he agrees with so thoroughly that he spent an entire column summarizing it, is given more authority than the Pope. Even if all you have is an opinion, you must read this article. This one work alone is singled out as require reading, as opposed to, say, Summorum Pontificum.

I can see why McBrien would say that. In spite of all his claims to knowledge and certainty in these two articles, Wcela's article is the only source cited. From the evidence of these two articles, McBrien read Wcela's article and no other on the M.P. You should too.

A final statement. I have favoured an analysis of form over content in these two posts on McBrien. Why? After reading these articles, and several others on the net, McBrien's content should be written like this: "content".

You may now shake your head in puzzlement. Apparently it's the most effective rebuttal there is.

The Hollow Men

Fr. McBrien's "argument"
My Comments,My italics

We are the Hollow Men

I noticed several blogs speaking of a new article by one of the greater bete noirs of the traditionalist blogs: Richard McBrien. Several people have gone over his theological stance, others have gone off on rants. I thought I might take a stab at analysing the article for myself. I should note, however, that I am not a specialist in theology. Where I do have some expertise, however, is in the uses of language and particularly rhetoric.

Rhetoric is, in short, the art of persuasion. It is the ability not merely to form a logical argument, or not even to form a logical argument at all, but to form a persuasive one- one with the force behind it to prove one's point, and to bring others to believe your point to be the true one- the only one. Notice, however, that one's point does not necessarily have to be true in order to persuade others that it is so.

Rhetoric was once considered to be the queen of the sciences, and the heighth of education. It is rare now, which is unfortunate, because not only does it allow one to persuade, but also helps one to recognize when someone else is trying to persuade one. Without a knowledge of rhetoric or logic, people are vulnerable to other people's hollow and empty rhetoric. I go now to Richard McBrien.


We are the stuffed men.

Father McBrien (for the man is indeed a priest) begins his article thusly:

The Latin Mass

This is actually his title. His use of the definite article is a little perplexing, for as the reader probably knows, there is not one Latin Mass, but actually two. There is the Mass variously named the Tridentine Mass, or the Traditional Latin Mass, or the Old Mass, and so on. However, the Novus Ordo Mass is also a Latin Mass. So he is here mixing two together into one. We shall see where this leads.

The pope's recent authorization of the Tridentine Latin Mass, without the need to seek the local bishop's permission, has stirred some measure of debate within the Roman Catholic Church, especially in letters-to-the-editor and on blogs written by individuals who seem not to have day-jobs.

Here he begins with an innocuous observation: "the Pope's authorization of the Tridentine Latin Mass" (Thus clearing up some of the confusion of the title- maybe?) has "stirred up some debate within the Roman Catholic Church, especially in letters-to-the-editor and on blogs." Thus far we have a value neutral observation of a situation- and presumably, the topic of his essay. But the neutral observation quickly changes with the addition of a pointed observation about those partaking of the debate: these bloggers are "individuals who seem not to day jobs." The use of the word "seem" is odd within the ostensibly objective observations of the opening sentence. It slips in a subjective value judgement into an otherwise objective statement, and thus covers the statement's subjectivity. Furthermore, it is a stab at one half the debate. More on that to come.

The overwhelming majority of Catholics, however, are apparently unaware of, or have already forgotten, the July 7 papal letter, entitled Summorum Pontificum (Latin, "Of supreme pontiffs"). Indeed, those who attend Mass regularly would never prefer Mass in a language other than their own.

Here we get another sweeping generalization under the cover of objective observation. Two statements: the people have forgotten, the people would never prefer, come with no statement, only a sense of numbers without any actual Math: "an overwhelming majority" but with no survey, no poll- no footnote, nothing. This "overwhelming majority" has absolute certainty: they would "never" choose otherwise. The only proof he has set up for himself is his tone of objective observer. He is setting up for an ethical proof: that is, the argument is proved (or disproved) on the character of the speaker/writer. Two paragraphs in, and the argument is totally dependent on the character and credibility of the writer. Except he's not making an argument in his manner of presentation. He is merely making observations.

Let me make an observation of my own. Back when I studied with my fellow scholars, when we made a statement, we had to back it up with proof. If you didn't and you went to school in the eighties, a witty prof may scribble in your margins "Where's the beef?" In the nineties, it was "Show me the Money!" This statement of McBrien's is both meatless and penniless, for it comes without any proof.

Those who do claim to prefer the Latin Mass, whether Tridentine or Novus Ordo (that is, in keeping with the reforms of Pope Paul VI), constitute a tiny
minority of the Roman Catholic Church, which is not to say that they have no right to speak their minds about the matter or to take advantage of the
concessions which the Vatican has offered them.

Against the absolute ("never") certainty of the overwhelming majority we have the "tiny minority" who do not speak with certainty, but rather "claim" to "prefer" the Latin Mass. Notice the shift in tone. They aren't only smaller, they're not as sure if this really is what they want. Perhaps they don't even know what they really want, they're only making claims. Perhaps they need someone smarter than they to show them the truth- someone with a generous spirit, someone who is will to give the tiny minority a pat on the head an admit that "they have a right to speak their minds," even if they aren't all that certain what is on those minds.

So, three paragraphs in, and McBrien is an absolutely certain objective observer, who is willing to be benevolent to those who lack his clarity and objectivity. And not only that, he makes it sound as though he is personally granting to this tiny minority the right of free speech- in this case, the right to speak in favour of concessions granted to them by the Pope. By extension, that implies he has more authority than the Pope. But back to the tiny minority- just how benighted are they?

But if such Catholics are under the ages of 45 or 50, they have little or no hands-on experience of the pre-Vatican II Mass. It is a mystery how one can be nostalgic for something one had never experienced.

Now he ascribes motives to a subgroup of that tiny minority: They're nostalgic. It would seem the objective omniscience is dropped, and the man who could blankly state the opinion of the vast majority is now mystified by the tiny minority: except, notice he does not state he is mystified, only that "it is a mystery." It is objectively a mystery how this can happen. So the mystery is not something on the part of the writer, it is shifted on to the group of "such Catholics"- they are the ones who are mystified, not the writer. No other possible motivation is mentioned, or considered, and the tiny minority are left, in McBrien's construction, ignorant even of themselves.

So we have two groups- one the Vast majority, certain etc, and the tiny minority, who have a right to speak, except they don't really know what they're talking about, and who are- by the way- most likely unemployed.

Headpiece filled with straw.

This, gentle reader, is what is known as the "straw man". In order to prove oneself right, we must have someone else who is wrong. Therefore in this style of argument you set up someone who is as wrong as wrong can be. However, although this style of argument is rather popular, it is also rather weak. Someone being wrong does not automatically make someone else right, unless there are only two possibilities.

Which, according to McBrien, is all there is. And again, his side (surprise, surprise) is the one with more weight.

In the past three months, liturgical scholars have published articles which carefully pick apart the reasoning behind the papal document that authorizes the use of the Tridentine Latin Mass. (The document is technically known as a motu proprio, in that it is produced by the pope "on his own initiative.") Each
critical analysis usually provokes a flurry of indignant reactions from a
handful of Latin-Mass advocates.

And again, large groups authoritative groups- "liturgical scholars" -are put against a tiny group which contains a pope who writes -notice how he puts in the definition of Motu Proprio here, rather than earlier in the first paragraph- solely on "his own initiative"- and a "handful of Latin-Mass advocates." Even as he invokes the Pope he is minimizing the Pope's authority- the Motu Proprio was just the pope alone. Also notice he inserts another kind of motivation to that handful: they are "indignant". They are writing emotionally, not objectively, as is, say, Father McBrien and his liturgical scholars.

By the way, any one catch the name of those liturgical scholars? Any one? A name? A quotation? A something?

Again, while no one should question their freedom of speech, not one of them, to my knowledge, has presented a credible justification for their preference. A few substitute ridicule for reasoning.

While these tiny minorities may speak, they don't speak well. Not one of them has a credible justification. His statement that a "few" (again, small is the defining characteristic of this group) "substitute ridicule for reasoning." I think McBrien is sliding into comedy here. Given that he has not offered an ounce of proof, that he has not made any kind of logical point here, given that he has minimized his opponents to unemployed idiots- the irony just becomes crushing. How can his description of his opponents thus far be construed as anything other than ridicule? But he's nice, he admits they have a right to speak. It's just that they have no reason, no knowledge. They're just idiots.

The whole argument still hinges on an unspoken "trust me, for I know" and "they're all wrong". By this point, I think there's going to be a straw shortage this winter.

And on we go:

The challenge to offer a specific, compelling argument for the Latin Mass has
just been made more difficult by a witty, down-to-earth article in the October 8 issue of America magazine, written by Emil Wcela, the retired auxiliary bishop
of the diocese of Rockville Centre, who also happens to have a degree in Sacred Scripture from Rome's Pontifical Biblical Institute. Bishop Wcela, however, proceeds neither from biblical evidence nor an exegetical analysis of the papal document, but from common sense and long pastoral experience. One does not have to be a liturgical scholar to understand what he is saying.

Now he brings in his outside proof. Of all the possible liturgical scholars he could have chosen, he chose this fellow. Notice the set up. No compelling reason (notice the subjective term compelling hiding as an objective one. There has been no compelling reason for him, and being the objective reasonable type that he is, that must mean there is none at all.) for the Mass in Latin, and the possibility of such a compelling reason has just shrunk because of a "witty, down-to-earth article." And now the subjective points are rolling right in. McBrien spent the first few paragraphs setting himself up and knocking his enemies down, so that by the time he starts voicing his opinion it does not come across as opinion, but fact. McBrien sets this author up with a series of credentials, thus extending the ethical proof to him. In short, we extend the trust-me-I-know to trust-him-he-knows, and we know he knows because McBrien says so.

Further, notice that while the other side, that tiny minority which certainly has the right to speak, must present "credible justification" and "compelling reasons" for their "preference", this bishop doesn't have to. This Bishop does not need to invoke the Bible, nor exegetical evidence- he can just speak off the top of his head. Which, incidentally, is what McBrien is doing. No wonder McBrien chose this man as the provider of proof for his entire argument.

Entitled "A Dinosaur Ponders the Latin Mass," the article avoids the scholarly path favored by specialists in liturgical studies. That type of work is absolutely necessary, but it is over the heads of most readers, who do not know a motu proprio from an encyclical --- nor do they care to know. Unlike many Latin-Mass devotees, Bishop Wcela (who is 76) learned and recited the Latin prayers as an altar boy (all altar servers were boys in those days). There were no sermons at daily Masses, no congregational responses, and few Communions.

Again, his chosen authority's credentials are lined up again- including his age- (the only other people whose ages are mentioned in this article are those who were mystified in their nostalgia, remember? This guy, by contrast, is old enough to remember and isn't nostalgic.)- to cement his authority. So what does this retired bishop authoritatively say?

He also recalls his years in the seminary where each day began with a Latin Mass. (At my seminary in Boston, there was a second Mass, called a "Thanksgiving Mass," which followed the community Mass. We remained --- always silently --- for only part of it.)
On Sundays and major feasts, a solemn high Mass was sung, complete with priest-celebrant, deacon, subdeacon, and a host of altar servers. The seminarians, however, would never receive Communion at this Mass since they had already done so at the early community Mass. As a young
priest, ordained in 1956, Bishop Wcela knew and celebrated only the Latin Mass, in which the celebrant "proclaimed" the Epistle and Gospel in Latin while facing the back wall. On Sundays, he would also read the Gospel in English from the pulpit, just before the sermon. While doing graduate work in Rome in the early 1960s, Bishop Wcela and other student-priests celebrated a daily Latin Mass without a congregation, but with a priest-partner. concelebration had not yet become common.

And the good Bishop says? Here are more credentials and memories, but nothing to any argument. Just more observations about the way things were. I could say something about the "facing the back wall" line but I see no reason to bother at this point. I am just waiting to be overwhelmed by this paragon of clarity, wittiness and down to earthness. That is, should he say something to the point.

After teaching in the seminary for several years, he became pastor of a large parish. By 1979, he writes, "Latin had pretty much disappeared, except for some hymns." His parish, however, had the custom of a Latin Mass one Sunday a month --- and in prime time, at 10:30, with full parish choir.

Good for him! But so what?

During the summer months, however, the Latin Mass was suspended because of vacation schedules and the influx of visiting priests. "After one of those
breaks," Bishop Wcela continues, "I suggested to the other priests an experiment: in the fall, we would not reintroduce it unless people asked for it. The months came and went without a word of interest. So the Latin Mass simply stopped."

And here you have the final proof. After all that- at one parish- one!- Latin was not missed. That is the entire justification and proof for every statement McBrien made thus far. His vast, overwhelming majority of well informed objective non-irate Catholics comes down to one parish.

There is another little slip here as well. Remember when I said the title conflates the Extraordinary and the Ordinary Form in Latin? He fulfills that here. The Bishop was not speaking of the Extraordinary Rite, but of the Ordinary Rite done in Latin. On the one hand, he has brought the entire debate he has been observing done to the issue of language. On the other hand, this little piece of 'evidence' he has slipped in ultimately proves nothing. The Motu Prioprio, which was the subject he proposes to discuss- or proposes to make observations on discussions he has seen- was not about in what language the Ordinary form should be celebrated: it was about the Extraordinary rite.

But here's a punchline, of sorts:

More on Bishop Wcela's thoughts next week.

Not to nit pick, but the use of "more" is not proper here. In order to show "more" at another time, one must show a minimum of "one" here. There was none. Only observations and memories.

And at the end, we have one last line: the publication states the author's credentials:

Fr. Richard McBrien is the Crowley-O'Brien Professor of Theology at the University of Notre Dame.

This whole essay has the intellectual honesty of a three card trick. McBrien sets up two possible groups which, in spite of his effort to make himself seem to be an objective observer- are completely of his own creation. He ascribes poor motivation to the group with which he does not agree, and dismisses them with contempt. But what does he have for his own side? His vast majorities, his liturgical experts, hides the fact that in the end he has one. Just one. Incidentally, in the way he has set this up, he has this up, he seems to have inadvertently given the tiny minority the pope (see the paragraph where he defines "motu proprio") whereas, ultimately, all his vast majority has is one bishop, who is, incidentally, retired. And this in an essay where the entire proof rests on the credentials of the author. When it comes down to that, whom would you trust?

I would not hesitate to flunk this paper were it to have come across my desk when I taught. There was no logical argument in this entire essay, no research, and the proof for everything he says comes down to single parish and his own authority. I said "Where's the beef?" and he hands me tofu. I say "Where's the money?" and he tosses me a wooden nickel. If you trust this guy, everything he says is true. It all sounds very nice, but in the end, it is nothing but rhetoric. And you can trust me on that. I at least quote the people of whom I am speaking.

Alas!

Post number 1,000

Yippee.

One thousand posts, boring, tedious, showing a lack of insight, and perhaps the occasional flight of brilliance, if in spite of ourselves.  Our readership has always been small, at the most reaching about fifty to sixty hits a day at its highest.  It has declined considerably since then, although once in a while, and it has been a good while since the last, someone links to us, and we get a brief avalanche, a few hundred people who drop by within a day or two, and then leave, never to return.

When we began, this was a blog to discuss church music, as we were both involved with a choir at our church- I a singer and Puff as a researcher.  We discovered how a Mass should be done, and realized our church was doing otherwise, and we began to blog about it.  I left that choir over a year ago, as a new member of Parish Council showed up at a choir practice one day and demanded we play nothing but her favourite hymns, which consisted of Haugen/Haas/Schutte and their ilk.  I was always prepared to sing their works, but I never wanted to sing nothing but their works.  I left the choir. Puff researches no more for them.  Research is no longer necessary.

For a time we posted at least once a day.  We went out from music and began blogging about other topics.  Family.  Daily life.  Literature. News.  I occasionally fisked other writers- my fisks of McBrien were fairly popular, but the exercise ultimately seemed rather futile.  McBrien's writing is practically self fisking.  It is read by people already inclined to agree with what he has to say.  My fisks were also read by people already prepared to what I had to say.  No battles were won, or even fought.  No minds were changed, no opinions modified.  I find McBrien's writings tedious and repetitve, and fisks of such writing would become so as well.  I moved on. I stopped posting every day.

 I have seen other blogs come and go.  When we started out, the star blog was Gerald Augustinus' The Cafeteria is Closed.  Gerald, a staunch defender of the faith who used the word Liberal as a curse, became one himself, and shut down his blog.  Christus Vincit went through a period of fluctuation.  One writer, Jason, left the Church and went back to the Lutherans.  BMP lost his job as an organist, and delivers food now.  Posts there are scarce.  Posts are also a rarity at another one of the most popular blogs, Curt Jester,  as they are at my favourite blog, Dyspeptic Mutterings.  Other blogs came up and filled in the gap.  

It seems to me most blogs do ultimately become rather repititious, the same viewpoints repeated, the same straw men raised up to be struck down, the same dead horse whipped over and over again.  Perhaps the phenomena of blogging is burning itself out.  Looking back on it all, there are times when I think I can say of blogging, a la Churchill, that never before in the field of human endeavor has so little been said so often by so many.

I doubt I will be writing a 2,000th post, reflecting back on the next thousand.  I still may write about Literature.  I still have to write a little more of the history, as I promised someone I would.  I have an upcoming birth to announce.  An upcoming death to announce.  Some news as yet unknown to announce.  There's still a little life left in this blog.  We'll continue on; run the race; keep the faith.

Here and there

I attended my first Knights of Columbus meeting last week. I'd tell you about it, but then the Ninjas of Columbus would track me down and make me disappear.

***

I sang at Mass today. The music wasn't anything to write home about, one way or the other. Good and solid, but standard stuff. My wife requested that I sing Be Thou My Vision for Communion, and then Frodo got sick and she stayed home. I also intoned Alma Redemptoris Mater after Communion, as well as the proper antiphon in English before. I won't be singing again until Lent. The down side of Lent is that our hymnal doesn't have much. On the plus side of singing in Lent, I won't be singing that Gloria, so there's that.

***

Speaking of my singing, I don't often get feedback, but the other day a few people told me they wished I sang more often, or even that I became the only cantor for our Mass. They say they like hearing a male voice for a change. (I am one of three or four in a rotation, the only male and the only volunteer.) Being the only cantor would probably be a bad idea. They would get bored of me eventually and start longing for a female voice 'for a change', or I would get bored of me.

On the other hand, if I were the only cantor, I could insist we change the Mass setting from time to time...

***

Found this video last week. It's an example of 'hyperreal art'.



Here, then, is one of the differences between abstract and realistic art. In abstract art, either you get it or you don't; you either see something or you don't, and if you don't, there is nothing else to look at. But in well done realist art, even if you don't 'get it'- after all, a crushed coke can?- you can still admire and wonder at the skill and the technique of a near perfect representation.

Now I want to break out my pencils and try and draw a can of coke.

***

Incidentally, Frodo looked over my shoulder while I was watching that video, and then indicated that he wanted to see more like it, so we spent the better part of an hour together watching more of the hyperreal art videos. I wonder what he saw in them.

***

Lot of death in the news. Another Mountie has died, may he rest in peace. Toller Cranston has died, may he rest in peace. Fr. Richard McBrien has died, may he rest in peace.

***

Anyone else find themselves looking back on their lives and wishing they had told more people to go shove it? Or is it just me? Being nice to people generally just lead to them regarding me as weak and, eventually, screwing me over. Sometimes I think it might have been better to have been rude, struck first. Make them the doormat. Trying to be nice to people, getting along to get along, really never got me anything. On the other hand, it is better to endure a wrong than inflict one.

***

Anybody have anything else to add?