Wars without goals breed atrocities

The title is a link to my latest column.  --EFP

Beyond Coincidence, Our Lives Were Enriched

My latest column is as close to a profession of faith as I am likely to get.  But, more than that, it is also a heartfelt eulogy.  (The title is a link to the column.)  --EFP

Palm on Guns--A Dove in Hawk's Clothing

I'm indulging in another true confession this week.  (The title is a link to my column.) What can I say?  I guess I've always been a dove in hawk's clothing.  --EFP

The Way We Were--Collins Park, 1959

This time around, I thought I would indulge in some true confessions.  The original article was posted on September 18, 2009.  
        For those who are interested, below I have added the rest of the story.  --EFP

            I remember that my mother and stepfather couldn’t resist driving by on the morning after the second bombing.  Much to my surprise, they allowed me to come along.  The left stucco sidewall was bowed out, like a giant abscess.  There was a jagged crack running from the ground to the roof.  That image haunts me still.  All the windows were blown out.  The lawn was littered with glass shards.  Even mother seemed to be taken aback by the sight.  I’m sure she never expected things to go that far.  My stepfather seemed relieved that it was finally over.  He, too, was a racist, but he and my mother had had bitter arguments over her activism.  He had mother’s number.  He knew she was enjoying the attention, and he feared that she was needlessly putting all three of us at risk.

            A local contractor, who just happened to live in Collins Park, and who had access to dynamite, was soon arrested and later convicted.  He went to prison.  His wife went door-to-door trying to collect money for her husband’s legal expenses.  I still remember when she came to our door.  My mother refused to contribute. She claimed to have been broke and behind in her bills, neither of which was true. 

Orwellian Newtspeak

In today's column, I couldn't resist having a little fun with Gingrich's Orwellian Newtspeak.  The title above is a link to my column.  --EFP

A Postscript to My Alzheimer's Column

A Christian friend reminded me of a couple points I wish I had had room to make in my column "Alzheimer's:  It's All in the Family."  (The title to this post is a link to that column.)

     There is a theory of the mind that I think is consistent with Christian theology, although it is admittedly closer to the Eastern view.  This theory holds that the brain does not create consciousness; it receives it.  It makes perfect sense to me that as the Alzheimer’s plaques form in the brain they progressively interfere with the reception of consciousness.  However, I do wonder if, like a radio receiver with a loose connection or a misfiring diode (or whatever), sometimes, for brief intervals, reception returns to normal or close to it. 

      I say that because I remember how on my Aunt Jo’s 79^th birthday, when the disease was fairly far advanced, she seemed to be her old self for a few moments.  When no one else was in the room, she stood looking at the cake and actually initiated a conversation with me.  Addressing me by name, she said, “Can you believe it, I’m actually 79 today?”  Sadly, it didn’t last.  She didn’t say anything to anyone else for the rest of the evening. 

      I suppose one could also call this a moment of grace.  I know that it is a common occurrence for terminally ill people to rally shortly before the end, almost as if they are given an opportunity to say their goodbyes. 

     In any event, what I witnessed on the evening of my aunt’s 79^th birthday may just have been one of those examples of how science and faith intertwine. --Ed

A New Twist on an Old Movie Theme

My friend and former Vietnam sergeant, Bill Cook, was just commenting on the shortcomings of today's electric-car technology. He pointed out that I would be hard-pressed to drive the 100 miles from my home to Forks, Washington, in an electric car. As I admitted to Bill, even if I made it to Forks in an electric car, there would be no recharging stations--only vampires and werewolves, according to Stephenie Meyer of Twilight series fame.
      But it occurs to me that this scenario would make for a good contemporary twist on a classic horror movie theme. I can see it now: It is a dark, stormy night, and an environmentally conscious young guy and his low-carbon-footprint, beautiful young girlfriend are motoring through Forks in their electric car when the battery gives out. They knock on the door of a spooky-looking old Victorian mansion hoping to find a place to plug in and recharge their car, and . . . .
     Well, you know the rest, except that the vampire of the manor could be a global-warming denier. That and his thirst for blood would make for a powerful motivation and some damned good acting. --S/f, EFP
P.S. to Stephenie: I expect to be paid if you use my idea.