Happy Statehood Day!

Arizona is 97 years old today. Here are some pics we took in Sedona last weekend.

Must Watch!

Thanks to Doug C. for drawing my attention to this.

St. Irenaeus, 2nd ct., "Against Heresies (Book I, Chapter 10)"

Unity of the faith of the Church throughout the whole world.

...As I have already observed, the Church, having received this preaching and this faith, although scattered throughout the whole world, yet, as if occupying but one house, carefully preserves it. She also believes these points [of doctrine] just as if she had but one soul, and one and the same heart, and she proclaims them, and teaches them, and hands them down, with perfect harmony, as if she possessed only one mouth. For, although the languages of the world are dissimilar, yet the import of the tradition is one and the same. For the Churches which have been planted in Germany do not believe or hand down anything different, nor do those in Spain, nor those in Gaul, nor those in the East, nor those in Egypt, nor those in Libya, nor those which have been established in the central regions of the world. But as the sun, that creature of God, is one and the same throughout the whole world, so also the preaching of the truth shines everywhere, and enlightens all men that are willing to come to a knowledge of the truth. Nor will any one of the rulers in the Churches, however highly gifted he may be in point of eloquence, teach doctrines different from these (for no one is greater than the Master); nor, on the other hand, will he who is deficient in power of expression inflict injury on the tradition. For the faith being ever one and the same, neither does one who is able at great length to discourse regarding it, make any addition to it, nor does one, who can say but little diminish it.

Jim, Why Hast Thou Smote Me?

I love a good smoke. I have for some time. There's nothing quite like a strong blend of well aged tobacco coupled with a good cup of joe, or a nice cask ale (maybe even a bottle of Glenlivet if I happen to be lucky enough to share a smoke with my brother) to spark lively conversation and enduring memories.

For me it started in the mid-90's while a freshman at Gordon College in Massachusetts. A group of us would head into Boston most Friday nights to a place (since moved from Newbury to Boylston) called Cigar Masters. It had just opened a few months before school began (summer of '96) and for the entire year was waiting for its liquor license to come through. So, for that freshman year it was a coffee house with a nice walk-in humidor, plush leather couches overlooking Newbury street, and an owner who took a liking to us "regulars." Such a liking, in fact, that every Friday he let me into the back of the shop where I filled the 5 disc cd player entirely with Dylan albums, hit shuffle, and enjoyed the next 3 hours in utter, smoke-filled bliss.

Since those times I have regularly had the blessing of getting together with friends over a good cigar or a pipe packed with a lovely aromatic. The high-point was undoubtedly 2 years of Wednesday get-togethers at the Royal Oak in Oxford with dear friends, British blends, and a couple pints each of delicious cask ales.

I say all this both to reminisce, as well as to suggest that over those years I thought I had come to know a thing or two about cigars. I had my favorites--a Punch Robusto Maduro ever since the Cigar Master days--and was confident that my "old-stand-bys" like Arturo Fuente, Macanudo, Romeo y Julieta, Punch, Ashton, Partagas, et. al. were decent cigars brands that consistently delivered a pleasant smoke. All this changed with Jim. Let me set the scene for you.

We spent Thanksgiving in Austin, TX where Allison's sister (Jess) and her sister's husband (Doug) live. It was a great time. They are nearly 5 weeks into parenthood, so there was much to give thanks for...though they might also say much to plead mercy from the Lord for.

On Friday night Doug and I went to Heroes and Legacies-- a fine tobacconist in North Austin -- for some "male bonding" time. This really is a great shop. The humidor is something else; a large walk-in with an extensive selection. It is so large, in fact, that it contains within it a second walk-in humidor. The picture below in no way does it justice.

Upon entering the humidor we were greeted by one of their tobacconists who asked if we needed help finding anything. As an FYI, on the Heroes and Legacies website it states "Our staff of on-site tobacconists, with over 31 years of combined experience, are eager to acquaint our patrons with the finest cigars available, to fit any price range." This is certainly true, the eagerness especially so. What happens next will make this clear.

I told the man I'd like a Hyde Park Macanudo. He nodded and I followed him to the back of the humidor. Around the corner came a voice quite inquisitively, "Who's asking for a Macanudo?" We rounded the corner and I motioned it was me. He shook his head with disdain and made clear that my choice was sub-par and proceeded to talk me out of it. He asked if there was an after-taste when smoking Macanudos. I said there certainly was. He gave a look suggesting his case against Macanudos was therefore made and waited for a response. I insisted that I didn't dislike the aftertaste to which he could only offer a confused glaze coupled with a slightly remorseful brow. He retorted with a quick breakdown of the tobacco plant: the top, the middle, and the lower leaves: Ligero, Seco, and Volado respectively. The Ligero is considered the finest on the plant. Not only is it said to provide the smoothest smoke (read: no strong aftertaste) it also carries with it the highest amount of nicotine.

This tobacconist later introduced himself as Jim. Jim insisted that I put back the Macanudo and replace it with a selection of his choice, one with a higher precentage of Ligero leaf. I conceded and was quickly handed a cigar (the brand now eludes me) with a picture of Martin Van Buren, chops and all, on the label. Jim promised this cigar would leave no aftertaste and would prove a very delightful smoke. Jim also grabbed a selection for my brother-in-law, Doug, with the promise that it would be both sweet and also leave no aftertaste.

Within the shop there were some double doors that lead to a private club in which one could enjoy their smoke. They graciously let us in. It was a magnificent club. Best of all, it was quiet that evening so Doug and I were able to share an entire room together without disturbances.

Both cigars were pretty good. Doug had no major complaints, though he was certain the claim to no aftertaste was overstated. My cigar was amazingly smooth and had a great draw. The evening was shaping up to be quite wonderful.

9pm rolls around and the shop and club are closing so Doug and I head to the car. We both have a bit left on our cigars so we spend a little bit of time outside finishing them off. By this point we are both beginning to feel the affects of the cigars. And with each passing minute those affects are becoming unpleasant. Now, usually when I have a cigar or two -- or maybe 3 or 4 bowls when I'm smoking a pipe -- I feel little to no affects at all; no dizziness, no nausea, no overall sickness. This particular time, I felt it all.

We hopped in the car and Doug states very candidly that he doesn't feel well-enough to drive. I tell him I'm in the same boat. We decide to attempt to walk-off the affects and head next door to Barnes and Noble. For what is almost the next hour I am in a daze of nicotine induced infirmity that finally puts me on the floor of the sports section trying my best to read "The Wit and Wisdom of Abraham Lincoln." Doug is off in the bathroom recounting all the States he's been to hoping sobriety will soon follow. Needless to say, we were undone. Jim had destroyed our bodies. Time will tell if he also got to our souls.

My sense of all this is that Jim is some sort of tobacco guerrilla. His war is fought under the cover of virtue. His camouflage consists in the splendid colors of caring, concern, and wise counsel. His weapons are the pride and prejudices of his unsuspecting victims, which renders him all the more deadly. He wields these weapons with exact precision as his victims never suspect the forthcoming assault. Jim is an evil mastermind. Jim is the most dangerous man I know.

So, be aware my friends. Be aware when you entrust not only your taste buds, but your bodies to those would-be purveyors of pure puff. And whenever at Heroes and Legacies, stay away from Jim.

Poetry

I've always enjoyed poetry. Eliot and Auden rank among my favorites, though I did go through a damnable phase where all I read was Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, and Corso. Dark days for sure. In fact, as I recall, it was during those days that I was also writing some atrocious poetry for a girl I was dating at the time; not at all the girlfriends fault, she was a good woman. It was simply due to the fact that I'm a despicable poet and for most of that season of my life was trying desperately to be Bob Dylan. However, I'm sure any trace of that poetry was burned -- probably along with an effigy of me which was something I most certainly deserved -- so while I continue to harbor shame for past sin, at least all traces of my poetic sin have most likely been cleansed by fire.

Anyway, all of this is a pathetic intro to a post where I offer an example of my "early work." Below is a poem I wrote shortly after Clinton won a second term. Boy, I thought I was being really clever. Now, as another Democrat is poised for a two-term stint, this is still the best I could probably come up with.

The Central Fair

Well the Chameleon of the Central Fair
He’s kneeling toward the shrine
Set against those dying clowns
Whose songs have all lost their rhyme

Midget men stand in the back
Fists clenched up toward the sky
“Death to all those” they scream,
“Who care not for the little guy.”

The clock it tics uneven tocks
Still the swine dance to its time
Elephant men all look like asses
And speakers can’t speak a line

There apathetic moans like Sunday hymns
Call to the Central Fair
As the Chameleon opens his wallet wide
Though that money is not his to share

Yet sheep shall come when shepherds call
And the Chameleon he knows just how
To point his staff toward the fatted calf
As he milks the distracted cow

Jugglers then jolt to dark, smoke-filled rooms
To conceive another shade
So the Chameleon can then kiss the foreheads
Of the children he has betrayed

:-)

Finally, An Uncle!

I am proud to introduce to you Andrew Boyd Connolly: 8 lbs 14 ounces, 21 inches.

10/24/2008

Wisdom

THE FOUNDATION: BUDGET

“We must not let our rulers load us with perpetual debt.” —Thomas Jefferson

INSIGHT

“Underlying most arguments against the free market is a lack of belief in freedom itself.” —Milton Friedman

“Every government interference in the economy consists of giving an unearned benefit, extorted by force, to some men at the expense of others.” —Ayn Rand

“Government cannot make man richer, but it can make him poorer.” —Ludwig von Mises

“The state is the great fiction by which everybody seeks to live at the expense of everybody else.” —Frederic Bastiat

UPRIGHT

“How odd that all those boring lessons from our grandparents turn out to be true in the globalized, hip 21st century: Save your money. Don’t borrow what you can’t pay back. Look first at a man’s character, not his degrees. And if a promised return on an investment seems too good to be true, it probably is.” —Victor Davis Hanson

We Are All Keynesians Now

A Day in God's Country

There's nothing quite like being in the AZ mountains. The Almighty is close on the Mogollon Plateau among Aspen and Ponderosa. It was a day well spent.

It's a Boy!

Tocqueville from the Grave

But epochs sometimes occur in the life of a nation when the old customs of a people are changed, public morality is destroyed, religious belief shaken, and the spell of tradition broken...The country then assumes a dim and dubious shape in the eyes of the citizens; they no longer behold it in the soil which they inhabit, for that soil is to them an inanimate clod; nor in the usages of their forefathers, which they have learned to regard as a debasing yoke; nor in religion, for of that they doubt; nor in the laws, which do not originate in their own authority; nor in the legislator, whom they fear and despise. The country is lost to their senses; they can discover it neither under its own nor under borrowed features, and they retire into a narrow and unenlightened selfishness. They are emancipated from prejudice without having acknowledged the empire of reason; they have neither the instinctive patriotism of a monarchy nor the reflecting patriotism of a republic; but they have stopped between the two in the midst of confusion and distress.

In this predicament to retreat is impossible, for a people cannot recover the sentiments of their youth any more than a man can return to the innocent tastes of childhood; such things may be regretted, but they cannot be renewed. They must go forward and accelerate the union of private with public interests, since the period of disinterested patriotism is gone by forever.

Suffer the Little Children to Come Unto Me

A Personal Update

Baby #3 on the way. Will know gender on Oct. 6th.

Contraception & the Homosexual Playground

Elizabeth Anscombe (Wittgenstein's greatest understudy) was a great defender of traditional Christian sexual ethics. She is not the only, though certainly one of the most profound apologists to have written in English on the issue of contraception. Her supposition that the social acceptance of contraception (especially among the churches) would result in the fundamental breakdown of sexual ethics has been corroborated by the past 40 years. To quote Anscombe:

If contraceptive intercourse is permissible, then what objection could there be after all to mutual masturbation, or copulation in vase indebito, sodomy, buggery (I should perhaps remark that I am using a legal term here -- not indulging in bad language), when normal copulation is impossible or inadvisable (or in any case, according to taste)? It can't be the mere pattern of bodily behavior in which the stimulation is procured that makes all the difference! But if such things are all right, it becomes perfectly impossible to see anything wrong with homosexual intercourse, for example. I am not saying; if you think contraception all right you will do these other things; not at all...But I am saying: you will have no solid reason against these things. You will have no answer to someone who proclaims as many do that they are good too. You cannot point to the known fact that Christianity drew people out of the pagan world, always saying no to these things. Because, if you are defending contraception, you will have rejected Christian tradition.

Contraception detaches sex from procreation. Sex is now first and foremost a unitive act. The pleasures of orgasm can be had in whatever form one desires. Mutual pleasure is the common goal. Yet, Christian tradition has -- with unanimity up until the 20th century -- called such a view of sex pagan and Godless. Today you would be hard pressed to find a handful of Christians who agreed. And in departing from the tradition Christians have left themselves without a coherent argument against the abomination of Homosexuality.

Homosexuality, like contraception, ignores the natural design. Where contraception attempts to deny the procreative element, homosexuality denies the very physical nature which makes any and all sexual unions coherent. Homosexuality constructs a playground where the intention of the designer is overlooked; enjoyment by any means is deemed legitimate. The body is made a playground of self-centered chaos; no law but the law of personal desire. And contraception among men and women is what opened the door. "Put another way, once heterosexuals started claiming the right to act as homosexuals, it was not long after that homosexuals started claiming the rights of heterosexuals."