Dairy Queen's Stupid New Commercial

Usually, commercials fly by without registering on my consciousness. But the new ad from Dairy Queen was so despicable, I had to replay it to make sure I saw what I saw.

The gist is that a girl, perhaps ten years old (Darcy from The Young and the Restless soap) goes to Dairy Queen with her mother to get hot fudge sundaes. The little girl knowingly tells her mom to get just one. The little boy buys one for her. And then she tells her mom, "Like shooting fish in a barrel." It reminds me of that old country and western song: "There are women, and girls, and ladies/They start learning when they are babies."

What is digusting and disturbing is the sexist and sexualized undertone of the commercial, with the jaded nymphet reeling in the oblivious boy. Instead of selling ice cream, Dairy Queen is selling a seedy and somewhat perverse bar scene.

It's not cute. It's crude.

Speaking for myself, I'm giving Dairy Queen a pass next time I want a shake.

Meow

Mom

I believe that mom is in irreversible decline. But, in the meantime, she needs to be comforted and be kept comfortable. Since she cannot feed herself and since it is not the job of the staff there to feed her, it looks like family members will need to feed her. It is a cruel death indeed to die by thirst or starvation. It brought a wave of indescribable sadness to see mom lie in a wet mattress, shivering because she was too cold, and barely able to sip water from a straw.

I think we also need to recognize that people work through grief in different ways. Grief has many masks and some people express grief through laughter or numbness, by maintaining their routines, by emotional disengagement, or by spiritualizing. This is a difficult time, and we need to be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ has forgiven us. We also need to recognize that we have our own limits and priorities, and we need to protect ourselves from taking on more than we can or should handle, sometimes by saying no and sometimes by asking for help.

Finally, we need to come to terms with mom's imminent death. It may be days or weeks or months, but it may be that we're seeing mom's final battle. And the great gift that God has given us is time to reconcile us to her death. It's hard to do so, but for our own sake and the sake of our families we must do so. As she said to me "I know where I am going" and we need to be happy for that.

Anne has asked on more than one occasion the eternal why-- why this good woman of faith spent the last half decade in such pain. I think of C.S. Lewis who aggressively promoted the classic Christian answer to evil and suffering in The Problem of Pain. You may remember the movie “Shadowlands”, played by Anthony Hopkins as Lewis, in which he had a crisis of faith when he watched his young bride die of cancer. At the end of the day, there are no satisfactory answers—only the consolation of faith in the One who also suffered-- and our friends and family. In one of the last scenes in “Shadowlands,” we see the professor hugging his young step-son after his wife had just died-- both in tears. Perhaps that is the only real answer in the face of the silence and distance of God.

Faith is not all green pastures and still waters. The comforters in the Book of Job put forth their rational arguments, and at the end Job—without an explanation but with the real experience of God—turns from questioning to wondering silence: “I will lay mine hand upon my mouth.” In this fragment of time on this planet, we are in this together and we must help each other out. Suffering is inextricably part of the human condition, and if there is one thing we must believe in, it is that we can make a difference. To live is to suffer. To suffer is to find meaning. And, if there is purpose in life, there must be purpose in suffering and death. The Psalmist said that “My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.” It did not say, “My tragedy comes from the Lord.” The bad that happens in our life has no meaning. But we can redeem it by giving it meaning. When I have felt sad, I have taken solace in the familiar prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi: “O Divine master, grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

My Mom

My mother is currently at

Dresher Hill Health & Rehabilitation
1390 Camp Hill Rd.
Dresher, PA 19034

The office number is (215) 643-0600. She is in room 233, bed 1.

Mom is currently unable to sit up and is weak. She has difficulty speaking and wouldn't be able to respond to a telephone conversation. Mom cannot read nor write and she has lost much of her memory. Mom does recognize faces and takes pleasure in visitors, although she tires easily. I think she would appreciate cards and of course your prayers and best wishes. Mom's future is in God's hands, but I believe that mom may be fighting her last battle.

Last week, I flew out to visit mom and I just returned home last night. The train arrived at the Roslyn station at about 10:30 pm and Tim picked me up moments later. Dad greeted me when we got home but Mom was slumbering. The next morning, I awoke and Mom was in the kitchen. I was immediately struck by the fact that she was almost completely doubled over, with a height perhaps now no more than half mine. Nevertheless, she pealed an orange with a knife and turned on the gas stove for a breakfast of shredded wheat with steaming water. Mom was grateful for Nancy's stained glass Serenity Prayer, and later that day I hung it in the kitchen window where it can catch the light.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
courage to change the things I can
and wisdom to know the difference.

The sentiment is much like Mom's favorite Bible verse from Proverbs 3.

Trust in the LORD with all your heartand lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him,and he will direct your paths.

Dad and Mom both had bad colds, so it was somewhat unfair to assess Mom's mental state. However, we did talk and I treasure that those moments at the kitchen table.

At sometime after eight, I heard mom call me from the bathroom. She was lying prone with her head on the bathtub about two inches from the floor, having tripped on the floor mats. Mom had a golf-ball-sized bump on the back of her head and, although I didn't know it at the time, her right arm was badly bruised. At about nine, Sherry, the physical therapist, arrived. She was adamant that Mom should be taken to the emergency room because of her being on Coumadin (a blood thinner), and Mom was equally adamant that she wanted to stay home-- fighting like a tiger to not go to a place that has brought her so much pain. About two hours later, Dad finally had me call 911, perhaps when he saw that Mom could no longer sit up. Anne arrived, and at about midday, we went to Abington Memorial's emergency room. Her physical and mental state has waxed and waned.

There are times when she is incoherent-- thinking that the year is 1918 or 1998 or that she needs to now help make the dinner for Dad as she pulls at the wires from her sparrow body. At other times, flashes of wit emerged, as for when Anne asked Mom if she was a tree climber. "Of course," mom said. "The higher the better."

But it was sad to see someone who was once so sharp and capable now hooked up to the same kind of machines that are used to monitor new born infants and also experiencing all the institutional smells, sounds, and sights that comes with that. Mom said of her experience in the ER that "I have been humiliated to the nth degree," and I think as a family we need to do what we can to honor mom's sense of propriety. It is out of that sense of propriety that she has asked for a closed casket funeral and that I suggest that during this time we forgo photos or videos of Mom while she is the way she is now. I know Mom would want us to honor her in that way.

What are the facts at present? Because of ongoing arterial fibrillation-- heart flutters-- her pulse has on occasion exceeded 150. But it is normal now with medication. Yesterday, she wasn't eating. Today, she is eating. Yesterday, she was paralyzed, unable to even sip water. Today, she is sitting up with assistance and eating food. She doesn't appear to be in pain. Mom does recognize faces and can give yes/no/of course answers or short answers. But I'm not sure that the words we're hearing are always associated with cognition.

The doctors reported today that she had another stroke on Sunday-- a TIA-- and is experiencing post-concussion syndrome. My view is that we are seeing a decline with ebbs and flows of mental and physical acuity. The plan is to be in rehab perhaps for two weeks. However, if she does go home, there needs to be a tough-minded review of the house from her point of view-- basically our vision on our knees. I've removed all the throw rugs, but Dad and Tim need to be sure that water is toweled up in the bathroom. There needs to be non-slip mats in the bathtub, better lighting, grab bars in the bathroom, removal of clutter, the habit of using the walker and wearing non-slip shoes, attention to vision and medications that can cause dizziness, and perhaps even sealing the door that goes to the basement. All of this seems like common sense, but the house is filled with stubborn people who for nine decades of their lives have in many matters leaned to their own understanding.

I was planning to visit my parents closer to my mother's birthday in October. However, the circumstances of the stroke and some of the decisions that were made at the time prompted me to come in earlier. I didn't anticipate mom's accident, of course, but I got a much more accurate sense of where things are now. While my parents are still living, I need to forgo other activities such as reunions and what Tim calls junkets, no matter how pleasurable they may be. I am at peace with this and I ask for understanding if I cannot spend more time doing things we have done in the past for fun. The remaining hours I have with my parents are precious. I have lived with mom and dad for no more than ten years. And, the last 25 years, I have spent the equivalent of a half year of my life with them, but spaced out over a quarter century. So the effect is like watching a stop action movie of a flowering and dying plant-- flourishing for a great length of time and then suddenly collapsing.

I would like to especially recognize the Birch family for their hospitality over the last week. Jennie and David are amazing children, bright, loving, and capable, and they can look forward to wonderful futures, and they owe much to their parents. I appreciate Anne's steadfast, tireless love for mom and medical erudition as well. It was a benediction to the soul for Anne and me to be on either side of Mom while we read from the Psalms and sometimes cried. I couldn't have asked for a better sister, and Mom could not have asked for a better daughter. So for Anne and Wayne, a heart felt thank you.

Some of the time we spent with Mom was sad-- sad that a woman who was fluent in several languages, who was triple certified in nursing, who traveled the globe and had friends throughout the continents is reduced to such paralysis and dependency. But Mom was never sad and on many occasions she was happy-- positively lighting up when she saw her nephew Frank White from Australia. What a kind man he was to remind us from Job that "I know my redeemer liveth" and mom's days are in God's hands.

The last hour I spent with mom-- possibly the last hour I will have with mom in this life-- was a time of smiles and hugs. Her voice was feathery and fluttery as she said "Philip, ever since you were a baby, I have loved you." I said "I will always love you." "Ditto," My Mom said. "You will always be with me." In 1981, Mom was by the side of her own mother as she died. Shortly after, she wrote this poem "in loving memory of my mother." It's the way I want to remember Mom, not the way I see her now, but in her vital and beautiful prime.

O Lord, Thank you for today and
for the happy memories of yesterday.
Help me to understand the mysteries of old age
and to rejoice in your countless favors.
I am keenly ware of my limitations
and dependence upon others, but do give me
a kind word and smile
for any who may come my way.
Save me from the critical fault finding habits
into which many old people fall.
As my mind takes pleasure in walking through
the corridors of the past, only let me go
loving, forgiving, and forgetting
any who have hurt or caused me pain
Help me to be wise, serene, patient, helpful, and unafraid
lest self-pity and anger take away
the peace of heart and joy of companionship
with you my God.

Thank you Lord Jesus.

Sharing as I do Mom's love for literature, perhaps it is appropriate that I close with Prospero’s loving praise of Miranda in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, because it applies perfectly to My Mom: “She will outstrip all praise and make it halt behind her.”

Flying to Philly

I leave today to the City of Brotherly Love mainly to visit with my aging parents and siblings and their family but also for business. I

Hillary's Faith

Said Hillary: "I grew up in a church-going family, a family that believed in the importance of living out and expressing our faith."

How Hillary Lives Out Her Faith.

Vulgar Candidates

Some blame the Viet Cong for McCain's short fuse.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpsDIjoI1pY

Hillary also isn't so high toned.

http://www.worldnetdaily.com/news/article.asp?ARTICLE_ID=39329

A Bitter Pill

Said Obama: "It's not surprising, then, they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."

Because of the stakes, I think anything is fair to test the character of next president including Obama's misfired words. But I think there is a whisper-in-the-wind quality is this statement and also in the Reverand Wright statements that distort the susbtance of the comments. The implication from Clinton and McCain is that Obama doesn't like the folkways of Main Street America with their belief in guns and God.

As far as the Reverand Wright statements are concerned, there isn't very much that is different from what many evangelicals have said, although using milder language. A common thread in countless sermons is that the 9/11 attack occurred not so much because of who we are-- a multi-religious, multi-racial people who believe in the rule of law and principles of the constitution-- or what we did-- specific policies that have promoted Israeli or oil company interests for example-- but the collective sins of the American people. Thus, the moralizers say, God allowed the towers to fall because of what lesbians in San Francisco and abortionists in Dallas were doing. I think this makes no sense, but I have heard people of faith make that claim.

Finally, I think it is ironic that McCain and Clinton are using statements like that to suggest that Obama is arrogant and aloof. McCain comes from old money and Clinton comes from new money and the wealth of both McCain and Clinton exceeds Obama by many orders of magnitude. I thusly question the pretense that they are in touch with most Americans whereas Obama is not.

Ageism, Sexism, Racism

Three potential US presidents have opponents representing sexism, ageism, and racism.

In the US, which bias is most prevalent and which is least prevelant, generally?

My opinion is the ranking of bigotry in the US from the greatest to the least is ageism, sexism, and racism.

I think this has to do with the ageing population in combination with our youth-oriented culture and, on the other extreme, the acceptance of different races throughout all segments of our culture.

What do you think and why?

Responses

Saturday at the Phoenix Zoo

Collard peccary (javilina) are hiding in the brush. In the background is the grave site of George W. P. Hunt's pyramid tomb.


Bald eagle. We also liked the scarlet ibis, capybara, lions, watusi cattle, and orangantan baby.


Ben (with the Cub's hat) feeding shrimp to a stingray.

Hillary's Wealth

Hillary Clinton, the champion of the blue collar class, earned $109 million dollars over the last eight years. Shall we celebrate this as yet one more rags to riches of American family ascending to astonishing wealth through their own effort and the magic of capitalism? Maybe. However, the release of Clinton's tax returns and especially their public financial disclosure report reveals relationships to power brokers and foreign entities that raises questions about Hillary's reformist claims-- that she is the handmaiden not just of corporate interests but also possibly criminal interests. The sheer volume of the money involved suggests to me bets made by power brokers itching to exploit Hillary's enthronement in January, 2008.

In the coming days, journalists and political opponents will start data mining through the tax returns and reports, and they will raise questions on self-benefiting chairtable donantions, offshore shelters, and ties to shadowy and possibly criminal figures.

Hillary and Bill Clinton tax returns: 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006

The questions lie in the minutia. Hillary's 42 page Public Financial Disclosure Report, signed on June 13, 2007, lists the sources of capital to her net worth. Here are some details that jumed out at me.

Citibank Account 5,000,001-25,000,000

Bill Clinton Honorariums. I assume these refer to speeches. They ranged in value of between $100,000 and $300,000, with most being in the $250,000 range. From February, 2006 to June, 2007, there were 91 "honorium" events.

The Clinton's hold large positions in a variety of stocks. Their largest holdings include the following.

Between 250,001 - 500,000

Anadarko Pete
Cisco Systems
General Electric
Home Depot
Johnson & Johnson
Merrill Lynch
Microsoft
Quellos Alpha Engine Cash Receivable
Texas Instruments
Time Warner
Walt Disney

Hillary does report one liability-- a credit card debt of between 10,001 and 15,000 to Citigroup.

She also describes herself as the secretary/treasurer of The Clinton Family Foundation in Chappaqua, New York, the same foundation that received the charitable donations that show up on her tax returns as write offs.

What is Meaning?

Meaning is an understanding that can be shared.

I chose the word meaning rather than equally elusive concepts such as God, evil, beauty, and truth because it opens entire classes of semantical and philosophical questions, relating to linquistics, semiotics, ontology, epistomology, and values.

I disagree that that either understanding or the sharing of understanding are necessary requirements of meaning. For example, a solipsist finds meaning in his solipsism, perhaps merely imaging that he has understanding or that he shares that understanding with equally imaginery others.

Questions that could be raised are as follows:

1. Is meaning an imputed quality or an intrinsic quality? I would say it can be either.
Thus, we might say "Life is sacred" and by so doing we are imputing a value onto something that is objectively real but appears to emperically lack that quality. On the other hand, we might say"The meaning of my cat's life is to sleep and eat." This would be an intrinsic quality, that is to say, sleeping and eating are components of the ontology of Kitty's existence.

2. Is the symbolic representation of reality real? I would say no. The presence or the absence of language of any kind including logic and mathematics neither voids nor advances truth per se. However, as instruments of our comprehension of reality, they are indespensable to discerning truth.

More broadly, meaning ties into the question of the meaning of personal human existence. The question as to whether there is meaning in life isn’t meaningless. A cigarette jingle when such jingles were legal hymned “To a golfer, it’s a hole in one… to a smoker, it’s a Kent.” The meaning of life is what animates our consciousness. The meaning of life for a tiger is to devour small game. Every individual is animated by metaphors—flags under which we march because we believe those flags have transcending value. These metaphors might be called God, materialism, science, politics, race, or art. From these metaphors, we find community and satisfaction. Some people however find meaning in seeking isolation and pain. According to Kant, practical reason allows the mind to accept things even if it cannot prove things. The claim that “life is pointless” is like the statement “life is sacred.” The same must be said for such statements as: “the God of the Bible is”, “reason is”, and “tradition is.” These are statements of meaning—a prioris—rather than statements of fact. The meaning of life is not an object—something that exists in time and space—but ourselves as we encounter time and space. "Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather must recognize that it is he who is asked,” Viktor Frankl writes in Man’s Search for Meaning. “In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible." Meaning in life, therefore, is in my view the set of those conscious or unconscious presuppositions from which we deal with our life.

Karl Rove is the Nutty Professor

I watched C-SPAN's coverage of a speech given by Deputy Chief of Staff and Senior Advisor to President Bush Karl Rove at George Washington University, where at two points students heckled him.

http://www.citizensugar.com/1513121

Just as the fantasy and horror of H. P. Lovecraft can make for entertaining reading, so too can the fantasy and horror of Rove make for entertaining listening. It's the kind of discourse that can cause fact checkers to throw their hands up in despair for Rove was in his usual mode of spinning like a top on all subjects great and small.

There was one curious topic that he raised and also expanded on in response to a question from a student. And this was Rove's role in fomenting a smear campaign against McCain in 2000. Particularly despicable was the push polling about McCain's daughter Bridget, who was adopted from Mother Theresa's orphanage in Bangladesh, suggesting rather that McCain had fathered a child from a black prostitute. Voters were asked "Would you be more or less likely to vote for John McCain...if you knew he had fathered an illegitimate black child?" In the C-SPAN speach, Rove naturally denied any responsibility for these dirty tricks and said that a "nutty professor" from Bob Jones University had spread miscegenation rumors in church-distributed flyers and using whisper campaigns. According to the New York Times, "Richard Hand, a professor at Bob Jones University, sent an e-mail message to “fellow South Carolinians” telling recipients that Mr. McCain had “chosen to sire children without marriage.” Other smears include these gems: that McCain was gay and was a traitor and that his wife was drug-addicted.

All of this was just a prelude to the shameless swift-boating of Senator John Kerry during the general election. Perhaps this accounts for why McCain showed tepid excitement at Bush's endorsement and is making no secret of distancing himself from the albatross that is our president.

I Went To a Party

I went to a party,
And remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink, Mom,
so I had a sprite instead.

I felt proud of myself,
The way you said I would,
that I didn't drink and drive,
though some friends said I should.

I made a healthy choice,
And your advice to me was right.
The party finally ended,
and the kids drove out of sight.

I got into my car,
Sure to get home in one piece.
I never knew what was coming, Mom,
something I expected least.

Now I'm lying on the pavement,
And I hear the policeman say,
the kid that caused this wreck was drunk,Mom
his voice seems far away.

My own blood's all around me,
As I try hard not to cry.
I can hear the paramedic say,
this girl is going to die.

I'm sure the guy had no idea,
While he was flying high.
Because he chose to drink and drive,
now I would have to die.

So why do people do it, Mom
Knowing that it ruins lives?
And now the pain is cutting me,
like a hundred stabbing knives.

Tell sister not to be afraid, Mom
Tell daddy to be brave.
And when I go to heaven,
put ' Mommy's Girl' on my grave.

Someone should have taught him,
That it's wrong to drink and drive.
Maybe if his parents had,
I'd still be alive

My breath is getting shorter,Mom
I'm getting really scared
These are my final moments,
and I'm so unprepared.

I wish that you could hold me Mom,
As I lie here and die.
I wish that I could say, 'I love you, Mom!'
So I love you and good-bye.

MADD
P.O. Box 54168 8
Dallas , TX 75354-1688
1-800-GET-MADD (1-800-438-6233)