Adventures in Empathetic Prayer

Yesterday I prayed the Chaplet of the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady instead of playing ePlush over my lunch break, as is my Lenten wont, and it occurred to me on the second sorrow that putting myself in Mary’s place would make the prayer that much more meaningful. (So I didn’t imagine hearing the Prophecy of Simeon.) It was so vivid: I could imagine during the Flight to Egypt that I would be tired and hot and thirsty, not to mention trying desperately to learn Coptic since I only spoke Aramaic. Then I could imagine searching for my missing preteen son, running desperately all over Jerusalem, hollering, “Yeshua! Where are you?” I could imagine St. John and Mary Magdalene trying to convince me not to see how they were treating my Son as He carried His cross, but I would insist and then see Him beaten and staggering under the heavy cross, and I would think, “Unfair! Even the worst criminals are either beaten or crucified, but not both! And what has my Son done? Spoken about the love of God? Healed the sick?” I could imagine myself watching them nail Him to the cross and waiting below it as He died, and the soldier spearing His side, and being amazed to see water and blood pouring out. I imagined Mary Magdalene saying the one blessing of His having been beaten is at least He didn’t suffer as long on the cross. I imagined the soldiers taking Him down from the cross and placing him in my arms, and I rocked Him like an infant, murmuring, “My son! My son!” I could even imagine how bewildered I would be when the soldiers told me some man named Joseph from Arimathea had claimed the body, but St. John talked to him and found out he was secretly a disciple of my Son, and I felt a tiny bit of joy that at least His followers might continue what He had begun. I imagined we all followed Joseph to a new tomb in a lovely garden, and I felt some peace when anointing my Son’s body with herbs and wrapping it in linen, seeing that at least in death He would have some of the dignity He was not given during His execution.

Sounds very spiritual and Lenten, right? So logically I thought it would be a great idea to use the same technique while praying the Rosary. However, yesterday being Wednesday, I prayed the Glorious Mysteries…with much less success using this imagination technique. The first Glorious Mystery was fine, as I imagined my joy at discovering my Son had risen from the dead, but trying to imagine the Ascension was difficult because I got stuck on the question of whether Jesus ascended slowly or quickly. Then I got really distracted trying to imagine Pentecost, because all I could think was, “Now do I have all knowledge? Does that mean I understand calculus?” And the last two Glorious Mysteries? Forget it! I have no idea what it would be like to be assumed body and soul into Heaven, or to be crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth. So this method of praying definitely has its limits, at least for me.

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Madtown 1911

I found this amazing footage on YouTube.  Apparently Madison was just as crazy a century ago as it is today.  Here is the St. Patrick's Day parade from 1911.

And because you know how I like to post pictures, here are some from the second day of Daylight Savings Time, when Kathbert and I took advantage of the extra hour of daylight to take a walk in the Arboretum.  Here is a picture of some geese on Lake Wingra, which is a scene very similar to one a person could have seen in 1911.

Here is a close-up of a pussy willow opening, much as it would have in the spring of 1911.

Here is a sunset over Lake Wingra, just like one that could be seen on an evening in 1911.

However, in 1911, as in my day, most people carved their own or their sweetheart's name into wooden surfaces like this railing on the boardwalk. But what are those crazy kids carving nowadays?  Check it out - the food pyramid!

Speaking of food, these photos were all taken on 3/14, which is Pi Day, so a local bakery was selling pieces of pie for $3.14.  Which would probably be an exorbitant price in 1911, but in 2011 it sounded like a deal, so I got a slice of Packer Backer pie to celebrate Pi Day.  It's only once a year, after all.  Much like St. Patrick's Day three days later, which is still being celebrated in Madtown in much the same way as a century ago.

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Guess What? We're Protesting!

Today:  two posts for the price of one!  Hardingfele and I went up to the Square for the big protest today, the anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr's assassination.  Here are some photos:

And here is a movie of the bikes in action:

And here are a couple more short movies of the protest:

Then we missed our bus and got a ride from the Deacon and the Irish Doctor, and then Hardingfele made an omelet and screwdrivers.  Can you tell I've had some vodka?  Yes?  Now Rockstar Tailor is writing a "personal narrative" about Hardingfele taking her to a friend's house on her motorcycle.  (n.b. Hardingfele does not really own a motorcycle.)

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Zombie Bunnies

Toque McToque and I were wondering if only humans can be zombies.  As you can tell from this shocking piece of evidence, the answer is NO!!!  They are coming for us, and they want our bananas!!!  Or brains!!  Or... something!!

When I showed this picture to my office mate Light Bright, she did not get it.  Toque McToque pointed out that Light Bright would be perfectly safe in a room full of zombies; after all, they only go after brains.

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Zombie Walk

Yesterday Richard Bonomo and I watched the Zombie Walk down State Street.  Mind you, this was not a frivolous Zombie Walk; it was a Zombie Walk to protest Scott Walker.

Figure A:  Scott Walker

OK, I admit that it is somewhat presumptuous of me to assume that this voodoo doll in a planter full of cigarette butts is supposed to be Scott Walker.  It could just as easily be Scott Fitzgerald.

Here is a three-minute movie of the Zombie Walk.  Toque McToque had said she was going to attend, and I may have spotted her in this movie.  See if you can spot her too.

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Planting Guinness the Juniper

Here is a picture of the Cuddly Rosaries my mother knits in red, yellow, and blue:

Aren't they cute?  Wouldn't you like one for yourself?  I have three red ones immediately available, and my mother is happy to knit them in any color you like.  They are $20 plus $1 to cover shipping costs.

Today Kathbert and I planted the little juniper that has been taking up so much space in Plant World in Richard Bonomo's sunny backyard, where it will hopefully be very happy.  Rich, meanwhile, was searching for a different shovel, and Luxuli brought out a bottle of Guinness to split among us, so we decided to call the juniper Guinness.  Here is a photo of it after we planted it:

On the right you can see the shovel Kathbert and I used (Rich located the "better" one just as we finished putting the dirt back), and on the left you can see the edge of the pot Guinness lived in while it resided in Plant World.  After the successful planting, we celebrated by throwing black walnuts at the pot, trying to make a basket.  Luxuli won, then Rich came in second, Kathbert got a rebound off the back stairs, and I was dead last... but I did finally do it.  Here is a close-up of Guinness:

And, for Hardingfele, here is a picture of the pastel tortoiseshell cat we had never seen before, who hung around as we planted Guinness the Juniper.  She didn't have a collar so we don't know her name.

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Fish Fry Descends into Chaos

Check out this shocking story I found online today:

Springfield – a church basement fish fry descended into chaos on April 1, 2011 when a Protestant somehow snuck in.  The deception was not discovered until the pastor of Our Lady of Good Perch, Father Noah Boddy, led the gathering in the typical pre-prandial Papist prayer that begins, “Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts…” and Calvin Luther slipped up and used the word “your” instead of “thy.”  Worse, he pronounced the final word of the prayer “AH-men” instead of the more typical, incorrect Catholic pronunciation of “AY-men,” thus arousing the suspicion of the diners around him.  When questioned about his denominational loyalties, Luther leapt over the table and tried to escape out the basement door, but he was seized by two brawny acolytes, and soon the entire basement was thrown into pandemonium.  Damage incurred include a corpus separated from a crucifix, possibly by Luther, and an entire pan of Mrs. O’Malley’s homemade brownies flung at Officer Dougherty as he attempted to get things under control.

When will we ever learn?

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