The definition of "irony."

That would be "an attorney having a slip and fall injury."

I planted my left knee quite nicely into some frozen Detroit asphalt after slipping on the only frozen surface in the entire parking lot. 2007 just keeps looking up.

Heather had enough of my wincing and sent me packing to the emergency room. X-rays negative, just a "deep bruise."

I'll be in the bunker with the ice pack, canned goods, Kevlar and Vicodin if anyone needs me.

The Accurate Pro multis Translation: Aggravating all the right people.

Bishop Trautman, bulwark against things Traditional, has issued another call to arms. Anyone else reminded how alpha-male baboons deal with challengers? So much to fisk, so little time.

So I'll just jump on this little nugget:

“That change easily could be misinterpreted as denying the faith of the Roman Catholic Church that Christ died for all people,” the press release quoted Trautman as saying.

Translation: the Ordinary of Erie thinks you are a USCCB-Certified, Grade-A idiot. And by "you," I am saying those in Holy Orders as well as lay people. He's assuming (1) pastors are faced with a theological conundrum equivalent to reciting from memory the canons of the Council of Nicaea, (2) said pastors are absolutely incapable of giving a three-sentence (maximum) explanation of the change, and that us dunsels in the pews are (3) lowing cattle mentally incapable of putting the round peg in the round hole and (4) are such delicate hothouse flowers we are sure to sprint from our parishes in tears upon hearing the change from "all" to "many."

We hear over and over that we are the "most-educated laity in the history of the Church." We have lay pastoral education initiatives out the wazoo. Adult education programs are a priority of the Church in America. But we simply can't get this one. Right. I mean, just imagine the spontaneous combustions that will occur when us poor dears read that the Lord uses "for many" in the Last Supper narratives in Matthew and Mark.

Sounds like someone's condescending ox is getting gored.

Curious about the doings of Der Tommissar?

Then go to the Express lane to read his confession to the near-decapitation of an Oklahoma Benedictine.

Helpful unsolicited backwoods advice: stick to what you know--like squeezing Cheez-whiz on "steak" sandwiches and screaming obscenities at non-Eagles fans.

Yes, what what.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: His Highness Dale the Pertinacious of Lower Wombleshire Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

You stout yeomen and other assorted peons are also free to address me as:

Reverend Earl Dale the Unusual of Bumswick by the Hole

-and-

Grand Duke Dale the Waspish of Lower Bumhampton

Hat tip to Mark Sullivan for the find.

FLEE TO EUROPE! STOCKPILE YOUR PORN! IT'S THE HANDMAID'S TALE COMING TRUE! THE AMERICAN TALIBAN ARE RISING TO POWER! THE FALWELL-ROBERTSON AXIS IS A HEARTBEAT AWAY FROM THE RED BUTTON! STOCKPILE YOUR PORN! THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT "ANOINTING" AND ARE CITING A BIBLICAL BOOK THAT ENDORSES THE SLAUGHTER OF ONE'S ENEMIES! THE THEOCRATS ARE COMING! STOCKPILE YOUR PORN!

Oh, wait--it's Jennifer Granholm.

Never mind.

[BTW, unless you've heard Bland Jen speak, you don't understand how hilarious the thunderous Biblical comparisons are. Let me put it this way: it's more than a little like heralding Mr. Whipple with Psalm 45.]

UPDATE: Oh, and please note that the Guv was actually anointed by the assembled reverendi. For those of you not in the know, the Hebrew word for anointed is "messiah." In Greek, it's "christos." Imagine the collective aneurysm if Jim Dobson and Fr. Neuhaus smeared a little sacred oil on Dubya's forehead. The assembled media horror chorus would sound like a 24/7 "This Is a Test of the Emergency Broadcast System" network.

Remember: "It's not a double standard if I'm doing it."

I'm pretty damn tired of seeing good people buried this year.

Two funerals in two days. The first for Christina, and the second (today) for Viola Elizabeth Murphy, the remarkable mother of the remarkable entrepreneur quoted here. I am proud to say I know the Murphys, and in one of the truly great moments of my legal career, I represented Nikole in a lawsuit. A retired schoolteacher, Viola was a thoroughly kind and decent woman who let my kids get away with lesser felonies when she saw them. Prayers for the Murphy family are welcome indeed.

Nativity Scene Theatre.

Rachel has taken to our Nativity Scene like an ant to a honeypot. Since there is no way to keep it out of her reach, and she doesn't play rough with it or move the figures from the general area, we have decided not to stop her.

This morning the littlest playwright set up a very interesting scene involving the angels and the Holy Family:

Angels: "Can we hold the baby? We're angels!"

Mary: [Jumping up indignantly and moving the baby away] "NO!"

I suppose it works--Our Lady is the Queen of Angels, too.

Christina Denwiddie, 1972-2007.

Christina, dear friend of our family and infrequent commenter at this blog, died this morning from a relapse of cancer. We learned she was going into hospice care last evening (Tony and Christina tried to avoid "burdening" people with bad news), but she never made it home. She had remained cheerful when we spoke and visited with her, but she never really healed from the surgery. She was readmitted to the hospital on Christmas Eve. She never left.

She was a twice-published author of fantasy short stories (under her maiden name of Krueger), a great story teller, and always filled with laughter. Her favorite trilogy was the Dies The Fire series, and I am happy to report she was able to finish A Meeting At Corvallis before she passed. The kids knew her as "Aunt Christina," and rightfully so. If we have another girl, she will bear the name Christina.

I can come up with a long list of people whom the Almighty could have taken before her, but He mysteriously took this great soul to Himself first.

Remember her and her bereaved husband Tony in your prayers today.

Prayers appreciated.

I'm not particularly interested in going into specifics--learn/remember the Rule--but prayers for Heather and the family would be much appreciated right now.

Over troubled waters.

Driving across the Mackinac Bridge during a "high wind warning" is doubleplus unfun. Yes, I know--only two vehicles have gone off the bridge in nearly fifty years, one a Yugo and the other probably a suicide, but hearing the wind whoosh under your vehicle while you spy the choppy surf of the Straits 150 feet below makes for some serious white-knuckling.


Make no mistake, though--she is a beauty (this is about what conditions were like yesterday, albeit considerably windier).

Just got back.

As in "an hour ago." As I type this, it is 10:05pm Eastern.

Long but basically good weekend with my brother and his family in Sault Ste. Marie. Love the Upper Peninsula--too bad I can't make a living there.

Watched the Bowl, am disappointed but hardly crushed. There are things more important in life than college athletics. Most things, in fact.

Anyway, glad to see 2006 dead and buried, and will update soon. Happy New Year to you and your loved ones.