fun fact about me: When I was 6 years old I sent so much hate mail to the president (the second Bush) that the mail carrier had to tell my mom I needed to stop before we got FBI’d

I was COMPLETELY unaware of the US political scene or why the adults in my life hated Bush, but I knew I hated him because he let people shoot wolves from helicopters and that’s mean and shitty

I also had a poor grasp on how stamps worked, so given that I wasn’t allowed to continually throw money away by putting stamps on my presidential hate mail, a lot of the times I just drew squares with little pictures inside on the corner.

Love, love, love reading more proof that everyone should encourage the children in their lives to write to elected officials--it teaches them about citizenship and can also be very funny.

When I taught second grade, one of the options for students who had finished their work was to write a letter to the president. I would send all of the letters in a big envelope at the end of every month.

Watching my students get more and more frustrated with him (and concerned about his wellbeing) was not the result I'd hoped for when I came up with the idea, but it was kind of hilarious.

See, Obama had a standard packet with information and activities about his dog he'd send in response to letters from very young citizens...and of course his office sent one back to our class every single time we sent mail.

So eventually all of the letters looked something like this:

What we need to do is convince all the disney adults in america that high speed rail would be a preferable way of getting to disneyworld compared to driving or flying. We could maybe harness their fondness for the monorail or something, but this is a group of people that has time, income, and passion that we could leverage. If we could direct 5% of the enthusiasm they have for limited edition popcorn buckets into calling their representatives and demanding high-speed interstate rail, we could get it by 2030

Maybe, just maybe...

(by request, my homily from Sunday)

It’s not all about me.

It’s not all about you either. You and I know this. This is not news.

And yet, the way that you and I live our lives? It tells a different story.

I may say “it’s not all about me,” but the way I live my life? It says I don’t really mean it.

Here’s what I’m talking about – when someone says something to you or does something for you, what’s the basis for your response to that? What’s the benchmark that all of us use for our reaction?

How we feel about it.

Whatever they said, whatever they did, we stack it up against our expectations. We stack it up against our ideas about what they should have said, what they should have done.

And our reaction to what they said or what they did? That is where it comes from.

What’s more, you and I are completely inconsistent when it comes to people who don’t meet our expectations.

When it’s us, when we are the ones who don’t meet our expectations?

It’s like what we heard in today’s Psalm, “The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness.” That is how we treat ourselves. And for good reason.

After all, we didn’t mean to hurt anybody. We were just trying to help. We did it with the best of intentions. We did the best we could. We’re not bad people. And a thousand other things we tell ourselves.

Because when it comes to us? Why, we’re going to do it God’s way, of course.

We’re going to be gracious and merciful – with ourselves. We’re going to be slow to anger – with ourselves. We’re going to have great kindness – when it comes to us.

But when it’s someone else? When someone else doesn’t meet our expectations?

Then it’s all about us. It’s all about how we feel about it.

And all that “gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness” stuff goes out the window.

What they said will be weighed against however we’re feeling in that moment. And what they said will be found wanting, if it doesn’t meet our ideas and expectations. Even though we’ve never bothered to communicate any of our ideas and expectations to them.

If they guess wrong, then they are horrible, self-absorbed, and insensitive. The worst sort of people.

We’re basically setting them up to lose, by not telling them about our ideas and expectations – and then expecting them to meet our ideas and expectations. And we’re setting ourselves up to be miserable when they don’t.

And that’s before we even get into whether our ideas and expectations have any relationship to reality.

It’s something we don’t really think about. Because it’s something that most of us do without even realizing that we’re doing it. And we are good at it.

It’s a terrible burden to place on someone. And it’s the exact opposite of the burden that Jesus talks about in today’s Gospel,

“Come to me all ye who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart; and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

That is the only burden that Our Lord wants us to have. And that is the only burden that we – as Christians – should be placing on anyone.

So, what does all that mean in practice?

Let’s say that I’m dealing with something in my life. It could be a health problem or a relationship problem, an addiction or a family member, something financial. Whatever it is, it’s not easy. It’s something big. It won’t go away. And it’s just getting worse.

Right now, it is the biggest thing going on in my life. For me, it is sucking all the air out of the room, and I really can’t think about much of anything else.

So, I go to Father George or Father Saji to let them know about what I’m dealing with, to ask them to pray for me, and maybe talk it through a little.

Then, in those moments right after Mass that I can finally get to him, a truncated, garbled, highly emotional account of what I’m dealing with comes tumbling out of me.

All I get back? A few words of sympathy and a promise that he’ll pray for me. And then he turns to someone else.

I am livid! He is so full of himself. Doesn’t he understand what I’m dealing with right now? I can’t believe they let someone like that be a priest.

He is absolutely the worst priest in the world!

Maybe that’s true. Maybe he is the worst priest in the world.

Or maybe, just maybe…there’s another way to look at it. Maybe there’s something more going on.

Maybe, just maybe, he spent last night in the emergency room, with someone who didn’t make it.

Maybe when he finally got home in the small hours of the morning, he got a call from one of his siblings who’s in crisis on the other side of the world and needs their big brother.

Maybe he made it to Mass this morning on two hours of sleep.

Maybe as soon as he’s done talking to me and everyone else after Mass, he’s going to go see the spouse who was left behind last night, who’s trying to figure out how they’re going to raise three kids by themselves.

Maybe what looked like a thimbleful of support and empathy from my perspective, was actually 100% of what he had to give.

I’m not saying that happens every day for our priests. In fact, for their sake, I pray that it doesn’t. But what I am saying is this – it’s possible.

Because it has happened. That could be exactly what he’s dealing with.

But in terms of how we look at it?

The point is that you and I get to choose. You and I get to choose how we see things.

We can go to our default mode, where we are the center of the universe. Where it’s all about us. And everyone else has to meet our expectations.

When we do, we lay a burden on others and on ourselves that will make them, and us, absolutely miserable.

If you’re looking for something to separate you from other people and from God, this is horrifyingly effective.

Or, instead of reacting. On autopilot. Instead of making it all about us. Again.

Instead of placing that burden on them, and on us? Instead of making them, and us, miserable?

We can look at them the way that God looks at us. We can be “gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness.”

Which, if we’re honest, is nothing less than paying forward the grace and mercy that God has given to each one of us.

And the best way that I know to do that? To set yourself up, so that your heart is primed to look them the way that God looks at you? Is to pray for them.

To make a habit of praying for family, friends, loved ones, anyone, everyone who’s going to be part of your day. Make a habit of praying for them. Especially when it comes to our priests.

But it all starts with a choice. Our choice.

Whenever it happens again – and it will.

Whoever it happens with – family, friends, loved ones, anyone, everyone, even if it’s one of our priests.

Don’t let it just happen. Choose.

In that moment – before you react – choose to say to yourself, “maybe, just maybe…”

Sunday’s Readings

Being surrounded by basically nude hypersexualized images of women is bad for women and girls self esteem like this isn’t even an opinion it’s just a fact. It is humiliating for women to watch other women be humiliated

Like, I'm not gonna say that the X-Men and their various imitators are anything like a perfect allegory, but "it's a bad allegory because super powers really are dangerous" has never held water for me. Like, are we really just gonna uncritically accept the implicit assumption lurking in that argument that bigotry is only wrong to the extent that its targets lack the ability to threaten the status quo? Hand-wringing over whether certain minorities are inherently dangerous is – and, critically, always has been – a smoke-screen for the real conversation about who has the right to possess the capacity for violence, and you can't engage with that conversation if your opening move is to concede that the only legitimate victim is a powerless one.

To underline what I mean about "the right to possess the capacity for violence", let's peel back the allegory and bring it back to the real-world issues that are allegedly being allegorised.

Every time the cops roll up and shoot some poor guy thirty-seven times in the back because the cell phone in his pocket looked kind of like it might be a gun, the public conversation always centres around questions like "are the police telling the truth about thinking it was a gun?" and "were the police reasonable to assume it was a gun?"

These are not the right questions to be asking.

The right question to be asking is "so what if it was a gun?"

Would the public execution of a guy who was literally just walking down the street have been justified then?

It's not accidental that stories of this type are most popular in America, where the people who can be counted on to argue that cops are behaving correctly when they kill on sight every time they see a member of a visible minority who looks like they might be packing are the exact same people who argue that carrying concealed automatic weapons without a permit is the God-given right of every red-blooded American man, woman and child.

This is not hypocrisy. They know exactly what they're doing. It's not about who is and is not dangerous: it's about who has the right to be dangerous.

Useful information

The everest chronicles

Where is her award? She stayed in character for that whole thing!

She slipped a tiny bit near the end, but if you didn't know what was going on you wouldn't have caught it. 10/10 high quality spousal shenanigans

The commitment to the bit was impressive. She fucking DIVED after it and nearly hit her head on the cabinets.

Platinum medal to her for that alone

Love her evil anime laugh at the end

Give her all awards indeed

Dr. Gachey with foxglove, 1890

Some of Van Gogh’s best work was done during a period of his life that he spent in a hospital being treated for his mental health problems. I could be wrong but I think Starry Night was among those.

This is consistently the case. Creators tend to do their best work when they are in a healthy place and receiving proper treatment and not being self destructive in their efforts to cope. Go figure.

All our experiences, good and bad, inform what we create, but suffering is not the price of great art. Suffering is what prevents artists from completing great art.

I was not expecting this admittedly.

ajsdjfsjdf @lilaccatholic

Listen it's an EXCELLENT episode

even with those four numbers there are countless possible combinations good luck with figuring out which one is the right one you punk

*straightens calculator*

It’s pretty likely that it’s a four digit number, and as there are four digits chosen there, that means that there cannot be any repetition. This mean that there are:

n!/(n-4)! possible orders. As ‘n’ is 4 (number of digits available). 4!/0! which becomes 4x3x2x1/1 which simplifies to 24. That means that there are 24 possible combinations of codes. This would take you about two or three minutes to input all possible codes.

Unless an alarm goes off if you don’t get it right in 3 tries

*straightens calculator again*

Kick the fucking door in

well ‘technically’ the code is most likley 1970. statistically, a majority of people, when told to choose a 4 digit code will choose their birth year. and this key pad is obviously a few years old to put it nicely, thats most likley it. 

some sherlock holmes shit just went down over here

No, no, no. Don’t base your deductions of psychology. Let’s talk chemistry. When you first press a button, there’s more of the natural oils on your skin, and therefore it wears down the numbers on the keys faster. Obviously 0 is the first one, then. Try 0791 first.

Sherlock out.

woah.

it got better

and this is why the sherlock fandom could either rule the world or end it….

Close, but not quite, I think. People will almost always choose a number they can remember. What’s memorable about 0791? Try 0719 - a birthday, 19th of July. That is more likely.

Those deductions are great and all, but unnecessary.

The light is green.

The door is already open.

And that’s why we have a John Watson.

This is “top 10 favorite posts” level.

Omg, it’s actually on my dash! This post is like a fossil!

Idk if I’ve rebloged this before, but I’ll reblog this legend again

Smithsonian? I’ve found the quintessential Tumblr and Sherlock fandom post. Yes. I would consider it definitive.

Ahh it’s back.

Legend of a post. 10/10 recommend reblogging.

this post is on my dash I feel HONORED

THE POST OF LEGENDS HAS RESURFACED ON MY DASH

I’VE ONLY EVER SEEN THIS IN SCREENSHOTS OMG

On your dash? I dig for gold like this,,, by looking at my mutual pages.

I’ve only seen this on Pinterest!

*gasp* THE SACRED TEXTS!

:O

THIS IS A LEGENDARY POST I HAVE BEEN GRACED BY IT’S APPEARANCE!!!

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

yesssss

Why did Tumblr stop doing stuff like this, it’s genuinely fascinating, and cute that we include our favorite media in things we do

Well. Since you asked. I was on tumblr as this post was being built in 2013. The height of superwholock. Which has, since then, been declared peak cringe. So people picked new fandoms to openly love in earnest. Which were also eventually declared cringe. Eventually the youth decided to cut out the middleman, and declared loving anything in earnest to be fully cringe. So it has been a really long time since the day to day users of tumblr have let any fandom create anything nearing the cultural phenomenon that was superwholock. And it is exactly those cultural phenomena that are needed to create posts like this.

So. What happened? Cringe culture happened.

Try and imagine what would happen if this post wasn’t the “sacred texts” only ever seen in screen shots and in pinterest. Try and imagine any current pop culture detective media fandom creating this post today. They’d be slaughtered for being cringe by the time (in this case) Sherlock was mentined.

But because this post is 10 years old and completely broke containment, it’s celebrated when it graces our dashes.

I blazed a small fandom event announcement.  Because I was genuinely excited to be part of a Big Bang for a wonderful movie.  One of the first responses I got was “Why would you blaze this?” Because of genuine excitement. Because I wanted to celebrate the friends I’d met in the fandom To spread joy to people who might also like the content but hadn’t seen it yet.   The fact that that was genuinely not realized made me sad.  I love thing, I celebrate thing.   I’m too old for cringe.  Cringe is dead.  Love what you love.  Enjoy the small things in life, it’s too short to do otherwise.

CRINGE CULTURE DIED AND WE KILLED IT.

CRINGE CULTURE DIED AND

WE KILLED IT.SPREAD THE LOVE FOR

YOUR FAVORITE SHOWS

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

objectively, this is the funniest way he could have killed twitter

Urgent prayer request

Please pray for a family from my church. Their young son (8 years old) fell off their boat and is missing. They have dive teams and radar looking for him, but it’s been over an hour and isn’t looking good.

Please pray for all the search teams and for peace for the parents with whatever the outcome is.

Update: Search has switched to recovery mode, which means they aren’t expecting to find him alive. Still hoping for a miracle, but praying for peace and strength for his family regardless.

This is going to be exceptionally tough on his family, including his younger brother. His little sister is too young to know what’s going on, but she’ll still feel the impact in her own way.

It’s also going to be tough on his friends and our whole church - we are an extremely tight-knit community. I can’t wrap my mind around this yet.

No offense but the internet gives you the most wrong and fucked up idea of helping people because people get mad if you don't care about disasters happening in 72 countries, meanwhile the people in real life that are doing the most good picked one VERY SPECIFIC thing to care about and care about it REALLY HARD

Walks up to a guy working on restoring a native tree species to his downtown "why aren't you posting about grasses in Turkmenistan!"

The internet has taken a whole generation of bright, motivated, passionate young people who care and have big hearts and turned them into paralyzed, shattered wrecks too crushed by the weight of the world's pain to hand a pair of socks to a person in need