April 02, 2005

The Pope

. . . died today, as you're aware unless you live inside the trunk of a car. (If you do, get out: that's not healthy.)

As you can tell, I cannot bring myself to weep too hard for someone who died at an advanced age after living such a rich, full life. I'm a nominal Catholic, but was raised to "question authority," and I don't have quite the reverence for the office that cradle Catholics have. But I do have tremendous respect.

What I do know is that this man, along with Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher, helped to create the conditions that led to the downfall of Communism in Eastern Europe, saving an uncountable number of lives and improving the quality of life around the world.

He had the courage, when he was young, to study a religion that was prohibited by the state.

He spoke many languages.

He traveled more than any other pope.

He was the first non-Italian pontiff in centuries.

He was an important bridge-builder within Christianity and between Christians and Jews. And between Christians and Muslims.

He was a great man.

The world will miss him.

The world, and the church, will go on—and will be better off for his having been here.

How can one pray for the pope? The temptation is to believe that God wouldn't listen. Or, if He did, that he'd be listening to the devout believers ahead of someone like me.

But that's the wong attitude, and in any event—as Tom Stoppard once said—I should have the courage of my lack of conviction.

I'll pray for him tonight, and I'd suggest that those of you who are Protestant, Jewish, Islamic, Hindu, Buddhist, and agnostic try it as well. At the very least, a very good and powerful man has left us. So we mourn.

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December 29, 2004

Jerry Orbach Died

Via OTB. His most famous role, of course, was detective Lenny Briscoe on Law and Order (12 seasons).

I loved him, and I can't believe this happened. He was relatively young, too. Fucking cancer, snatching people away before their time.

He was a great pool player, and I do hope there are pool tables in heaven.

Goodbye, Mr. Orbach.

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December 27, 2004

Earthquakes, Tsunamis

If you're a praying person, now would be a good time. I don't know whom to weep for harder: the dead, the survivors, or the millions of newly homeless people.

And I'm angry. Angry because we—the nations of the world—are killing each other when we need to be developing early-warning systems for every country that has people living along the coast of any sea or ocean. We need to be encouraging minimal building codes for developing countries: even in Mexico, people still run out of their homes when earthquakes hit. Out! Not in. That's how well-built the structures are. We can do better.

There was a two and a half hour gap between when the quake hit and when the tsunami reached the beaches, where people were sunbathing, fishing and swimming, unaware.

Sure, this tragedy doesn't compare with what Hitler and Stalin were able to "accomplish." But my heart aches, and it was so unnecessary. All we need is for Asians to get the same warnings Alaskans get before they are hit with massive tidal waves. That's not too much to ask.

Please. War on Terror: Win it now, and let's move on to making the world a safer place. If Mother Nature still turns on us this way, we ought to be able to band together and fight her instead of other people.

I know, I know: I'm a bleeding-heart conservative to my very core. But think about it. Please.

This article contains information on the reactions of L.A.-based Indian and Sri Lanken groups to the disaster, and a listing of the international aid agencies that will be sending help. If you have a few dollars to spare, please write a check to one of these organizations. And when you are finished shaking your fist at God, please ask Him to protect, feed, clothe and house those who now have nothing.

I don't know what it all means, except that there was nothing most of us could really do after 9/11. The most generous country in the world, hit on its mainland by mass murderers, sent canned corn and homemade quilts to New York City because we wanted to do something, dammit. There was nothing we could do, because the dead don't eat canned corn and don't use quilts.

Now there is something we can do, and the disaster is on a magnitude that dwarfs 9/11. Send canned goods, warm blankets, and—most importantly—hard cash.

Thanks.

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December 20, 2004

A Sad Rejoicing

I'm not sure which version of this story I like better—the one at Beautiful Atrocities, which has pictures, or the one Photon Courier put together, which has more details.

It's the story of a 20-century heroine, Noor Inayat Khat, whom I find inspiring. We should weep for her, but in a hopeful sort of way. I think that's what she would have wanted.

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December 05, 2004

Goodbye, Dave.

Three weeks ago I went to a memorial service for one of the finest gentlemen I've ever known, David W. Arnold of Handguns magazine, who supported my efforts as a fledgling writer and encouraged me with my shooting (and early on in my management career).

I've been wondering what to say about him, but I finally realized that Jerry Lee has it covered. There's nothing more to add, except that Dave's courage in facing down two major health crises will be an example to me for the rest of my life.

Thank you, Dave.

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September 10, 2004

Prayer Requests

Aaron Hawkins of Uppity-Negro.com passed away suddenly. Please pray for him, and for his family, if that's the kind of thing you happen to do.


(Via Protein Wisdom; Jeff wrote a few sentences that serve as a nice mini-eulogy.)

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