Patriotism...what the heck is it? Is it flying Old Glory on the Fourth of July and Flag Day? Is it thanking our troops for the sacrifices they make? Is it paying our taxes and voting? Can we find it in a building or depicted in a work of art?
The symbols of patriotism in America are many and varied: the Stars and Stripes, our songs, the Washington Monument, the Lincoln memorial, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a Purple Heart, the Declaration of Independence, the Statue of Liberty. Of these, the Statue of Liberty is not an image of a real person, mortal or immortal, nor is it a memorial or recollection of the past. She is the present, an image of an immortal idea representing the passion for that idea embraced by our forefathers when they came to America to find jobs, to find a better life, to have the right to own land, to be able to hunt for food and to choose who should rule over them. It was exemplified by the men who drafted and signed the Declaration of Independence, and those who joined the fight against England that all may know our belief "That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, and among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." We hold these truths to be self evident. That is why we engaged in the World Wars, why we aided the fight in Korea and Vietnam: the rights of others were being violated. Were those who were violated Americans? No, but we certainly didn't let that stop us from coming to their aid. When the first attack in over 60 years to take place on American soil occurred only a few years ago, suddenly, people remembered Old Glory, and the Sentry of America, the Statue of Liberty. They began to fly the flag with pride, tears streamed from their eyes once again when they heard "the bombs bursting in air gave proof through the night that our flag was still there." Patriotism does exist in America...it just sort of seems to lay dormant until a tragedy happens that demands a rallying of forces .
Many don't know the words on the statue of liberty. She says "give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..." that's really what America is made of...and it is grand. Millions of poor, battered immigrants That a whole nation should "hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men a created equal," and that everyone has the rite to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness....that just sort of rocks the world and shakes it upside down! That's why the beginning of the revolutionary war was the "Shot heard 'round the World." It was such a new idea, it was earth shattering, flying in the face of every Western Nation of the time.
Patriotism is a love of Country, of countrymen, and of ideals. Ideas are dangerous and motivating, the shape the destiny of people, movements, and ages. When we proclaim our ideas, take pride in our country and our identity as Americans. Maybe that's why shivers run down my spine during the national Anthem, why I love knowing all the songs about America that I can find, why fireworks on Independence Day make me happy. God bless the United States of America.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Summer update #2
Well, summer is fast fading away, and the weather in Virginia is finally cooling off...for a very short time I'm sure. It has been around 92F for most of the summer, give or take, and very humid. However, the great summer of 2008 has seen a relatively new addition to our weather: smoke. The fire in North Carolina blows directly our way from the South, covering us in a blanket of thick gray smoke. It smells nice, but does a number on one's lungs. They say it is burning 3 feet below the ground cause of the peat moss out that way, and that the only thing that could really put it out is a hurricane. On top of that, the great dismal swamp is burning as well. Well, unfortunately the Lord will never wipe away the face of the earth by water again, so he's going to burn it off.
We've been able to make the garden look better this year than we have in the last 10 years. Seems like our work on the stubborn gray clay has payed off finally. Lots of top soil, turning, and dead plant matter later, we have Tiger Lilies, chrysanthemums, Bleeding Hearts, foxgloves, Zinnias, Hostas, Hydrangas, and several varieties of unknown bulbs. Peter and I have worked alot outside this year. Peter is trying to turn outdoorsman (thanks to books and boyscouts) and has taken to splitting logs. The little ones are happy to assist him in this, and scrape off the bark and stack after the logs are split.
I've a part time job with a nursing home for severely disabled children. I was unable to find a full time position anywhere cause no one wants out of town college students, but this is nice enough. There are some of the cutest kids there, all deformed to some extent from birth defects, diseases, or accidents. Some had childhood illnesses that left their brains dysfunctional. I work mostly with teenagers.
My siblings and I have passes to the local recreation center, the city kid's workout. we don't have pastures to roam and lakes to swim in, therefore we need a pool or some other body of water. We play in the street, but there are these things called cars and power lines that continually get in the way...and we have already knocked the mailbox down once with a body.
Well, that's all forthe update now. More later.
Good night folks and God love you.
We've been able to make the garden look better this year than we have in the last 10 years. Seems like our work on the stubborn gray clay has payed off finally. Lots of top soil, turning, and dead plant matter later, we have Tiger Lilies, chrysanthemums, Bleeding Hearts, foxgloves, Zinnias, Hostas, Hydrangas, and several varieties of unknown bulbs. Peter and I have worked alot outside this year. Peter is trying to turn outdoorsman (thanks to books and boyscouts) and has taken to splitting logs. The little ones are happy to assist him in this, and scrape off the bark and stack after the logs are split.
I've a part time job with a nursing home for severely disabled children. I was unable to find a full time position anywhere cause no one wants out of town college students, but this is nice enough. There are some of the cutest kids there, all deformed to some extent from birth defects, diseases, or accidents. Some had childhood illnesses that left their brains dysfunctional. I work mostly with teenagers.
My siblings and I have passes to the local recreation center, the city kid's workout. we don't have pastures to roam and lakes to swim in, therefore we need a pool or some other body of water. We play in the street, but there are these things called cars and power lines that continually get in the way...and we have already knocked the mailbox down once with a body.
Well, that's all forthe update now. More later.
Good night folks and God love you.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Intro to summer
Well, I'm home in Virginia for the summer now, so perhaps I'll have a chance to update things here more often. I'm working at the home for disabled children again, which is a very nice place and the work is fairly easy, but it's quite draining, emotionally and physically. By God's grace, the hours allow me to attend daily Mass. It is amazing what the Holy Sacrament of the Altar empowers and imparts in those who attend. Gee, I mean, the gospel today "those who partake of this bread remain in me and I in them." really makes a body feel like he's never totally divorced from the mercy and love of God, no matter how far he fall.
We had a strong gale last week, complete with wind gusts and hail. We came out alright, though several of my sisters and brothers did end up going around the neighborhood and helped our neighbors chop up fallen trees. The firewood gained from this experience has been masterfully crafted into a fort out back, approximately 3 feet in height with about 24 sq feet of space by the boyscouts and cubscouts of the family. It would be regarded with awe by any young lad interested in the fine things in life: namely nature and battles. The land finally looks like we take care of it, and the garden has been once again reclaimed from the invading yard. Squash, tomatoes, and peppers are off to a good start this year, and will hopefully remain healthy and blight-less for the remainder of the season.
Seven of us went out the strawberry field last week to continue the annual tradition and picked for about 90 minutes. Surprisingly, strawberry crops are actually a main attraction in this large city. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when I learned that we had acquired no less than 77 1/2 pounds, all of which had to be paid for. Scraping together all of our money, and Mom's, we paid for it. I'm thinking we should hire ourselves out to some farmer or other. I mean, that's like 700 pounds/day!
And, as always, dialup clogs the phone line, so this post must end now. A very merry summer and a happy feast of the Holy Eucharist to you all!
We had a strong gale last week, complete with wind gusts and hail. We came out alright, though several of my sisters and brothers did end up going around the neighborhood and helped our neighbors chop up fallen trees. The firewood gained from this experience has been masterfully crafted into a fort out back, approximately 3 feet in height with about 24 sq feet of space by the boyscouts and cubscouts of the family. It would be regarded with awe by any young lad interested in the fine things in life: namely nature and battles. The land finally looks like we take care of it, and the garden has been once again reclaimed from the invading yard. Squash, tomatoes, and peppers are off to a good start this year, and will hopefully remain healthy and blight-less for the remainder of the season.
Seven of us went out the strawberry field last week to continue the annual tradition and picked for about 90 minutes. Surprisingly, strawberry crops are actually a main attraction in this large city. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when I learned that we had acquired no less than 77 1/2 pounds, all of which had to be paid for. Scraping together all of our money, and Mom's, we paid for it. I'm thinking we should hire ourselves out to some farmer or other. I mean, that's like 700 pounds/day!
And, as always, dialup clogs the phone line, so this post must end now. A very merry summer and a happy feast of the Holy Eucharist to you all!
Friday, May 16, 2008
A Fairy Tale of Grace
There was once a great and noble King whose land was terrorized by a crafty dragon. Like a massive bird of prey, the scaly beast delighted in ravaging villages with his fiery breath. Hapless victims ran from their burning homes, only to be snatched into the dragon's jaws or talons. Those devoured instantly were deemed more fortunate than those carried back to the dragon's lair to be devoured at his leisure. The King led his sons and knights in many valiant battles against the dragon.
Riding alone in the forest, one of the King's sons heard his name purred low and soft. In the shadows of the ferns and trees, curled among the boulders, lay the dragon. The creature's heavy-lidded eyes fastened on the prince, and the reptilian mouth stretched into a friendly smile.
"Don't be alarmed," said the dragon, as gray wisps of smoke rose lazily from his nostrils.
"I am not what your father thinks."
"What are you, then?" asked the prince, warily drawing his sword as he pulled in the reins to keep his fearful horse from bolting.
"I am pleasure," said the dragon. "Ride on my back and you will experience more than you ever imagined. Come now. I have no harmful intentions. I seek a friend, someone to share flights with me. Have you never dreamed of flying? Never longed to soar in the clouds?"
Visions of soaring high above the forested hills drew the prince hesitantly from his horse. The dragon unfurled one great webbed wing to serve as a ramp to his ridged back. Between the spiny projections, the prince found a secure seat. Then the creature snapped his powerful wings twice and launched them into the sky. The prince's apprehension melted into awe and exhilaration.
From then on, he met the dragon often, but secretly, for how could he tell his father, brothers or the knights that he had befriended the enemy? The prince felt separate from them all. Their concerns were no longer his concerns. Even when he wasn't with the dragon, he spent less time with those he loved and more time alone.
The skin on the prince's legs became calloused from gripping the ridged back of the dragon, and his hands grew rough and hardened. He began wearing gloves to hide the malady. After many nights of riding, he discovered scales growing on the backs of his hands as well. With dread he realized his fate were he to continue, and so he resolved to return no more to the dragon.
But, after a fortnight, he again sought out the dragon, having been tormented with desire. And so it transpired many times over. No matter what his determination, the prince eventually found himself pulled back, as if by the cords of an invisible web. Silently, patiently, the dragon always waited.
One cold, moonless night their excursion became a foray against a sleeping village. Torching the thatched roofs with fiery blasts from his nostrils, the dragon roared with delight when the terrified victims fled from their burning homes. Swooping in, the serpent belched again and flames engulfed a cluster of screaming villages. The prince closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to shut out the carnage.
In the pre dawn hours, when the prince crept back from his dragon trysts, the road outside his father's castle usually remained empty. But not tonight. Terrified refugees streamed into the protective walls of the castle. The prince attempted to slip through the crowd to close himself in his chambers, but some of the survivors stared and pointed toward him.
"He was there," one woman cried out, "I saw him on the back of the dragon." Others nodded their heads in angry agreement. Horrified, the prince saw that his father, the King, was in the courtyard holding a bleeding child in his arms. The King's face mirrored the agony of his people as his eyes found the prince's. The son fled, hoping to escape into the night, but the guards apprehended him as if he were a common thief. They brought him to the great hall where his father sat solemnly on the throne. The people on every side railed against the prince.
"Banish him!" he heard one of his own brothers angrily cry out.
"Burn him alive!" other voices shouted.
As the king rose from his throne, bloodstains from the wounded shone darkly on his royal robes. The crowd fell silent in expectation of his decree. The prince, who could not bear to look into his father's face, stared at the flagstones of the floor.
"Take off your gloves and your tunic," the King commanded. The prince obeyed slowly, dreading to have his metamorphosis uncovered before the kingdom. Was his shame not already enough? He had hoped for a quick death without further humiliation. Sounds of revulsion rippled through the crowd at the sight of the prince's thick, scaled skin and the ridge growing along his spine.
The king strode toward his son, and the prince steeled himself, fully expecting a back handed blow even though he had never been struck so by his father.
Instead, his father embraced him and wept as he held him tightly. In shocked disbelief, the prince buried his face against his father's shoulder.
"Do you wish to be freed from the dragon, my son?"
The prince answered in despair, "I wished it many times, but there is no hope for me."
"Not alone," said the King. "You cannot win against the dragon alone."
"Father, I am no longer your son. I am half beast," sobbed the prince.
But his father replied, "My blood runs in your veins. My nobility has always been stamped deep within your soul."
With his face still hidden tearfully in his father's embrace, the prince heard the King instruct the crowd, "The dragon is crafty. Some fall victim to his wiles and some to his violence. There will be mercy for all who wish to be freed. Who else among you has ridden the dragon?"
The prince lifted his head to see someone emerge from the crowd. To his amazement, he recognized an older brother, one who had been lauded throughout the kingdom for his onslaughts against the dragon in battle and for his many good deeds. Others came, some weeping, others hanging their heads in shame.
The King embraced them all.
"This is our most powerful weapon against the dragon," he announced. "Truth. No more hidden flights. Alone we cannot resist him." Melinda Reinicke, Parables for Personal Growth (San Diego, CA: Recovery Publications, Inc., 1993), pp. 5-9
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Some favorites from an Irish Poet, Joseph Mary Plunkett
I see His Blood Upon the Rose by Joseph Mary Plunkett
I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice—and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.
My Lady has the Grace of Death
My lady has the grace of Death
Whose charity is quick to save,
Her heart is broad as heaven’s breath,
Deep as the grave.
She found me fainting by the way
And fed me from her babeless breast
Then played with me as children play,
Rocked me to rest.
When soon I rose and cried to heaven
Moaning for sins I could not weep,
She told me of her sorrows seven
Kissed me to sleep.
And when the morn rose bright and ruddy
And sweet birds sang on the branch above
She took my sword from her side all bloody
And died for love.
I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice—and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.
My Lady has the Grace of Death
My lady has the grace of Death
Whose charity is quick to save,
Her heart is broad as heaven’s breath,
Deep as the grave.
She found me fainting by the way
And fed me from her babeless breast
Then played with me as children play,
Rocked me to rest.
When soon I rose and cried to heaven
Moaning for sins I could not weep,
She told me of her sorrows seven
Kissed me to sleep.
And when the morn rose bright and ruddy
And sweet birds sang on the branch above
She took my sword from her side all bloody
And died for love.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Communications between sisters
My dear sister Deborah is always calling me and singing me popular songs, changing the words to fit to my situation. so I sent her this song one day, to the tune of "O Tenanbaum."
O Deborah, my Deborah
How lovely are thine eyeballs
O Deborah, my Deborah,
How lovely are thine eyeballs
They glance so sweet when morning comes
And are devious when day is done
O Deborah, my Deborah,
How lovely are thine eyeballs.
She wrote back with a nice poem, exploiting the fact that I don't have eyebrows.
Naomi, Naomi how thy eyebrows doth shine
O Deborah, my Deborah
How lovely are thine eyeballs
O Deborah, my Deborah,
How lovely are thine eyeballs
They glance so sweet when morning comes
And are devious when day is done
O Deborah, my Deborah,
How lovely are thine eyeballs.
She wrote back with a nice poem, exploiting the fact that I don't have eyebrows.
Naomi, Naomi how thy eyebrows doth shine
They are so light
And flutter through the air
You'd never know
that they were ever there
And perhaps some day
When the world's bereft of delves
They will deign
To show themselves
But until then dear
I fear we must be content
To bid them farewell
Wherever they are sent
And in the life they find there
I pray they become not a bore
But find some eyebrowless peasant
Who needs them more.
So bid them adieu
And shed not a tear
You look so much better
Since they are not here.
We are so silly. =)
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Nature, the Presence of God
I have recently been reflecting on Our Lord, and have focused on Him more. Funny how problems will help you do that. Just realizing (finally) that I really can no longer help myself. Actually, that I never was able to and I just need to rely totally and completely on him. But now, I've been seeing more and more that every time I turn around, He is there. In a new bud on a tree, the sunlight sparkling off the buckle on my pack, the spray of dogwood flowers in a drab little store downtown, in a kind word. He is there. Everywhere. Wanting to be seen, yet passed by by so many. How could I not have seen Him before?! Even now as I type, I look down at my hands and notice each marking, each freckle and realize that they more than the crucifix ring I wear speak of the glory and the wonder of God. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, and really have no reason to focus on my imperfections or those of the world around me, for the perfections are there. They are simple, and as such do not scream out for attention but wait patiently, as my Lord waits, to be notice and loved for themselves and not for the works they do.
Sacred Heart of Jesus, burning with love for me, inflame my cold heart with love for Thee.
I find that more and more, I am drawn to nature and feel close to my Lord and my Lady ("Nature's Solitary Boast") when I am surrounded or in touch somehow with creation. This poem is one of the favorites from my high school years, and speaks volumes on this sentiment, that nature is somehow alive with the life and love of God.
The Ballad of the Trees and the Master
Into the woods my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent.
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little gray leaves were kind to Him:
The thorn-tree had a mind to Him
When into the woods He came.
Out of the woods my Master went,
And He was well content.
Out of the woods my Master came,
Content with death and shame.
When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last:
'Twas on a tree they slew Him -- last
When out of the woods He came.
~Sidney Lanier
Sacred Heart of Jesus, burning with love for me, inflame my cold heart with love for Thee.
I find that more and more, I am drawn to nature and feel close to my Lord and my Lady ("Nature's Solitary Boast") when I am surrounded or in touch somehow with creation. This poem is one of the favorites from my high school years, and speaks volumes on this sentiment, that nature is somehow alive with the life and love of God.
The Ballad of the Trees and the Master
Into the woods my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent.
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little gray leaves were kind to Him:
The thorn-tree had a mind to Him
When into the woods He came.
Out of the woods my Master went,
And He was well content.
Out of the woods my Master came,
Content with death and shame.
When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last:
'Twas on a tree they slew Him -- last
When out of the woods He came.
~Sidney Lanier
Saturday, March 15, 2008
yay for the oldest...or not
Just read a study that says the oldest child in a family is often the most intellegent, due to keeping company with adults, teaching younger siblings, and taking responsiblity for a "clan."
I definitely feel like my younger siblings are going to be smarter because they were exposed to so much info earlier on, and also glean from my life experiences.
They will have life so much easier, and I'm sure they won't appreciate all the sacrifices I've made for them. Sigh.
But, as my little sister would say, "life is like that."
(insert here wiry grin)
I definitely feel like my younger siblings are going to be smarter because they were exposed to so much info earlier on, and also glean from my life experiences.
They will have life so much easier, and I'm sure they won't appreciate all the sacrifices I've made for them. Sigh.
But, as my little sister would say, "life is like that."
(insert here wiry grin)
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
The Chaplet of St. Gertrude for the Poor Souls
The prayer below was given to St. Gertrude of Sweeden, who had a great devotion to the holy souls. Our Lord promised that each time it is said, 1,000 souls will be freed. Later, the part in lower-case letters was added to include sinners still living.
"ETERNAL FATHER, I OFFER THEE THE MOST PRECIOUS BLOOD OF THY DIVINE SON, JESUS, IN UNION WITH THE MASSES SAID THROUGHOUT THE WORLD TODAY, FOR ALL THE HOLY SOULS IN PURGATORY, for sinners everywhere, for sinners in the universal Church, those in my own home and within my family. Amen."
Say this chaplet using regular Rosary beads. Begin with the Apostles' Creed, one Our Father, three Hail Marys and a Glory Be to the Father just as with Our Lady's Rosary.
On the five decades, say the above Prayer for the Holy souls on each Hail Mary bead and the Our Father on each separator bead between the decades.
--------------------------------------
Optional Prayers to add to the recitation of the Chaplet-
To be said after each decade...
Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, open the hearts and minds of sinners to the truth and light of God, the Father.
Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for the conversion of sinners and the world.\
"Glory be..."
To be said at the end of each Chaplet...
THANKSGIVING FOR GRACES BESTOWED ON ST. GERTRUDE
O most sweet Lord Jesus Christ, I praise, extol and bless Thee, in union with that Heavenly praise which the Divine Persons of the Most Holy trinity mutually render to Each other, and which thence flows down upon Thy Sacred Humanity, upon the Blessed Virgin Mary and upon all the Angels and Saints. And I give Thee thanks for all the graces Thou didst lavish upon Thy beloved spouse, St. Gertrude. I thank Thee especially for that ineffable love wherewith Thou didst pre-elect her from all eternity, didst enrich her so highly, didst draw her so sweetly to Thyself by the strongest bonds of love, didst unite her so blissfully to Thyself, dwell with such delight in her heart, and crown her life with so blessed an end. I recall to Thee now, O most compassionate Jesus, the promise Thou didst make to Thy beloved spouse, that Thou wouldst most assuredly grant the prayers of all who come to Thee through her merits and intercession, in all matters concerning their salvation. I beseech Thee, by Thy most tender love, grant me the grace . . . [mention it] which I confidently expect. Amen.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Link for the original story http://noroomforcontraception.com/cblog/index.php?/archives/78-New-Study-Abstinence-Works.html
New Study: Abstinence Works
Shortly after the publication of Douglas Kirby's Emerging Answers 2007, a study which found that abstinence programs were not effective, and after Virginia Governor Tim Kaine rejected federal funding for abstinence until marriage programs, a new study to be published in 2008 shows that a Virginia based program has been effective in delaying sexual activity.Of course, you know which study made the headlines...
Interestingly enough, Dr. Stan Weed, the author of this new study, is on the Effective Programs And Research Task Force, which reviewed Emerging Answers in early 2007.
Being on this task force should give Dr. Weed an equal standing and equal credibility in the media. After all, if he wasn't a credible researcher, he wouldn't be on the task force along with Dr. John Santelli, who is the Department Chair of the Population and Family Health department at Columbia University, would he?
When Douglas Kirby or Dr. John Santelli publish studies supporting comprehensive sexuality education programs, headlines across the nation echo, and quite often misrepresent, the conclusions of their work.
For example, the Associated Press' recent headline describing Emerging Answers reads 'Report: Abstinence not curbing teen sex' - yet this headline is misleading.
This AP headline, as well as others, has caused me to suspect that reporters don't actually read the studies, and if they did, they don't actually understand the issue well enough. Consider that in Emerging A nswers, Kirby acknowledges that abstinence increased from 1995 to 2005. (Page 28, paragraph 3) Had the reporter read this paragraph, they wouldn't have been able to honestly pen such a misleading headline.
Interestingly enough, I wasn't able to find an AP story about Dr. Weed's study. And this isn't the first time the media has ignored studies supporting abstinence until marriage programs.
It seems that a double standard exists - if a study supports contraception and comprehensive sexuality education, it is considered newsworthy, but if a study supports abstinence, it is not.
Dr. Weed's study, An Abstinence Program's Impact on Cognitive Mediators and Sexual Initiation, will be pub lished in the Jan/Feb issue of American Journal of Health Behavior. You can read more about it here: http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/88807.php
In closing, Virginia Governor Tim Kaine rejected Title V funding since he wanted to fund programs that are evidence based. Now that there is evidence that Virginia's program is effective, Gov. Kaine should accept the funding.
PS:
What can be done about the media blackout of studies supporting abstinence programs? Well, here are some ideas..
1. Bring these studies to the attention of reporters who you have spoken with in the past
2. Announce this study on your blog or website in a prominent location
3. Email news about the study to your mailing list
4. Send out press releases discussing the study
5. Email news about Dr. Weed's study to your friends.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Christmas Sequence
The twenty-fifth day of December.
In the five thousand one hundred and ninety-ninth year of the creation of the world from the time when God in the beginning created the heavens and the earth;
the two thousand nine hundred and fifty-seventh year after the flood;
the two thousand and fifteenth year from the birth of Abraham;
the one thousand five hundred and tenth year from Moses and the going forth of the people of Israel from Egypt;
the one thousand and thirty-second year from David's being anointed king;
in the sixty-fifth week according to the prophecy of Daniel;
in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad;
the seven hundred and fifty-second year from thefoundation of the city of Rome;
the forty second year of the reign of Octavian Augustus;
the whole world being at peace,in the sixth age of the world,
Jesus Christ the eternal God and Son of the eternal Father,desiring to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming,being conceived by the Holy Spirit,and nine months having passed since his conception,was born in Bethlehem of Judea of the virgin Mary,
being made flesh.
The Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
You might be a 90's kid if:
You've ever ended a sentence with the word "PSYCHE!"
You know that "WOAH" comes from Joey on "Blossom" and that "How Rude!" comes from Stephanie on "Full House"
You remember when it was actually worth getting up early on a Saturday to watch cartoons.
You got super excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.
You remember "Goosebumps."
You know the profound meaning of "Wax on, wax off"
You have pondered why Smurfette was the only female smurf.
You took plastic cartoon lunch boxes to school.
You remember the craze, then the banning of slap bracelets and slam books.
You remember when everyone said "NOT" after (almost) every sentence and you still get the urge to do it...Not...
"Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?" was both a game and a TV game show.
When playing power rangers with friends you fought over who got to be who............and everyone still ended up being Tommy.
You remember when super Nintendo's became popular. Super Mario 3!!!!
"I've fallen and I can't get up."
You remember going to the skating rink before there were inline skates.
You never got injured on a Slip 'n' Slide
You wore socks over leggings scrunched down (oooo!)
You played: "Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black, with silver buttons, buttons, buttons, all down her back, back, back" She asked her mother, mother, mother for 50 cents, cents, cents to see the elephants, elephants, elephants jump over the fence, fence, fence he jumped so high high high he touched the sky sky sky and he didnt come back back back til the forth of july ly ly he jumped so low ow ow he stubbed his toe toe toe and thats the end end end of the elephants show show show
You remember boom boxes vs. cd players
You played and/or collected "Pogs"
You had at least one Tamagotchi, GigaPet or Nano and brought it everywhere
You watched the original Care Bears, My Little Pony, Ninja Turtles, Wishbone, Magic School Bus, Bill Nye the Science Guy, Full House, Pinky and the Brain, The Wonderful World of Richard Scary, Ghostwriter, Mr. Rogers.
You knew Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys were the best mystery books ever, and topped your Christmas wish list.
You loved the Little Mermaid
You cried when Mufasa died in the Lion King.
You remember Happy Meals where you chose a Barbie or a Hot Wheels car.
You remember getting the privelage to sit in the front seat of the car, (and you better believe it was a privelage!)
You remember Capri Suns, and Kool Aid.
"Campbells makes everything Mmm Mmm Good!"
You were part of dinosaur craze, or you were intimately connected with it.
You remember Alladin...before the trilogy.
Sailor Moon.
You knew Snick (?) & Nick @ Nite with I Dream of Jenie, I Love Lucy, The Cosby Show.
Your parents read Little Bear (I love those books still)
You remember Busy Town--books, the show, songs, Lowly and Huckle
Under the Umbrella Tree
You remember PEE-WEE!!! ...and other things 90s kids would like to deny.
Yikes pencils and erasers were the stuff!
All your school supplies were "Lisa Frank" brand.(pencils.notebooks.binders.etc.)
You remember when the new Beanie Babies were always sold out.
You used to wear those stick on earings, not only on your ears, but at the corners of your eyes and on your forehead.
You know the Macarena by heart.
You always said, or always heard, "Then why don't you marry it!"
You remember the slinky craze.
You remember when light up sneakers were cool.
You remember when you rented VHS tapes, not DVDs.
You remember gas being $0.91 a gallon & Caller ID was a new thing.
Your family recorded stuff on VCRs & paid $3.50 for a movie.
You remember when camcorders were about as big your little sister, and almost as heavy.
You remember when computers were big, white, ugly, slow as molasass , and pixelly...and you weren't allowed to touch it.
When $5 seemed like a million, & another dollar a miracle. $10 made you rich and happened only once a year.
When Toys R Us overuled the mall.
Go back to the time when:
Decisions were made by going 'eeny-meeny-miney-moe'.
Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming 'do over!'
'Race issue' ment arguing about who ran the fastest.
Money issues were handled by whoever was banker in 'Monopoly.'
It wasn't odd to have two or three 'best' friends.
Being old referred to anyone over 20.
Scrapes & bruises were kissed & made better.
It was a big deal to finally be tall enought to ride the 'big people' rides at the fair.
When playing Nintendo was the hardest thing ever.
When Ninja Turtles ruled the world.
When Aladdin was new, before the trilogy was complete.
Sockem Boppers
When we were younger:
Before the MySpace...
Before the Internet & text messaging...
Before Sidekicks & iPods...
Before MIKE JONES...
Before PlayStation2 or X-BOX...
...Back when you put off the 5 hours of homework you had every night....or not...you might have played or done:
-Cops and Robbers!
-Tag. (Freeze, chinese freeze, and normal)
-Hide-n-Go Seek at dusk. Or, even better, Ghost in the Graveyard.
-Red Light, Green Light.
-Heads Up 7 Up.
-Playing Kickball & Dodgeball until your porch light came on...or you couldn't see the ball anymore.
-Hopskotch.
-Simon Says and Mother/Father May I. (we didn't have role confusion back then)
-Tree Houses.
-Hula Hoops.
-Hot wheels!
-Furbies.
-Running through the sprinklers...the neighbor's, not yours.
And "all good things must come to an end..." so died the 90s, along with pogs, nitendo, etc.
You know that "WOAH" comes from Joey on "Blossom" and that "How Rude!" comes from Stephanie on "Full House"
You remember when it was actually worth getting up early on a Saturday to watch cartoons.
You got super excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.
You remember "Goosebumps."
You know the profound meaning of "Wax on, wax off"
You have pondered why Smurfette was the only female smurf.
You took plastic cartoon lunch boxes to school.
You remember the craze, then the banning of slap bracelets and slam books.
You remember when everyone said "NOT" after (almost) every sentence and you still get the urge to do it...Not...
"Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?" was both a game and a TV game show.
When playing power rangers with friends you fought over who got to be who............and everyone still ended up being Tommy.
You remember when super Nintendo's became popular. Super Mario 3!!!!
"I've fallen and I can't get up."
You remember going to the skating rink before there were inline skates.
You never got injured on a Slip 'n' Slide
You wore socks over leggings scrunched down (oooo!)
You played: "Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black, with silver buttons, buttons, buttons, all down her back, back, back" She asked her mother, mother, mother for 50 cents, cents, cents to see the elephants, elephants, elephants jump over the fence, fence, fence he jumped so high high high he touched the sky sky sky and he didnt come back back back til the forth of july ly ly he jumped so low ow ow he stubbed his toe toe toe and thats the end end end of the elephants show show show
You remember boom boxes vs. cd players
You played and/or collected "Pogs"
You had at least one Tamagotchi, GigaPet or Nano and brought it everywhere
You watched the original Care Bears, My Little Pony, Ninja Turtles, Wishbone, Magic School Bus, Bill Nye the Science Guy, Full House, Pinky and the Brain, The Wonderful World of Richard Scary, Ghostwriter, Mr. Rogers.
You knew Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys were the best mystery books ever, and topped your Christmas wish list.
You loved the Little Mermaid
You cried when Mufasa died in the Lion King.
You remember Happy Meals where you chose a Barbie or a Hot Wheels car.
You remember getting the privelage to sit in the front seat of the car, (and you better believe it was a privelage!)
You remember Capri Suns, and Kool Aid.
"Campbells makes everything Mmm Mmm Good!"
You were part of dinosaur craze, or you were intimately connected with it.
You remember Alladin...before the trilogy.
Sailor Moon.
You knew Snick (?) & Nick @ Nite with I Dream of Jenie, I Love Lucy, The Cosby Show.
Your parents read Little Bear (I love those books still)
You remember Busy Town--books, the show, songs, Lowly and Huckle
Under the Umbrella Tree
You remember PEE-WEE!!! ...and other things 90s kids would like to deny.
Yikes pencils and erasers were the stuff!
All your school supplies were "Lisa Frank" brand.(pencils.notebooks.binders.etc.)
You remember when the new Beanie Babies were always sold out.
You used to wear those stick on earings, not only on your ears, but at the corners of your eyes and on your forehead.
You know the Macarena by heart.
You always said, or always heard, "Then why don't you marry it!"
You remember the slinky craze.
You remember when light up sneakers were cool.
You remember when you rented VHS tapes, not DVDs.
You remember gas being $0.91 a gallon & Caller ID was a new thing.
Your family recorded stuff on VCRs & paid $3.50 for a movie.
You remember when camcorders were about as big your little sister, and almost as heavy.
You remember when computers were big, white, ugly, slow as molasass , and pixelly...and you weren't allowed to touch it.
When $5 seemed like a million, & another dollar a miracle. $10 made you rich and happened only once a year.
When Toys R Us overuled the mall.
Go back to the time when:
Decisions were made by going 'eeny-meeny-miney-moe'.
Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming 'do over!'
'Race issue' ment arguing about who ran the fastest.
Money issues were handled by whoever was banker in 'Monopoly.'
It wasn't odd to have two or three 'best' friends.
Being old referred to anyone over 20.
Scrapes & bruises were kissed & made better.
It was a big deal to finally be tall enought to ride the 'big people' rides at the fair.
When playing Nintendo was the hardest thing ever.
When Ninja Turtles ruled the world.
When Aladdin was new, before the trilogy was complete.
Sockem Boppers
When we were younger:
Before the MySpace...
Before the Internet & text messaging...
Before Sidekicks & iPods...
Before MIKE JONES...
Before PlayStation2 or X-BOX...
...Back when you put off the 5 hours of homework you had every night....or not...you might have played or done:
-Cops and Robbers!
-Tag. (Freeze, chinese freeze, and normal)
-Hide-n-Go Seek at dusk. Or, even better, Ghost in the Graveyard.
-Red Light, Green Light.
-Heads Up 7 Up.
-Playing Kickball & Dodgeball until your porch light came on...or you couldn't see the ball anymore.
-Hopskotch.
-Simon Says and Mother/Father May I. (we didn't have role confusion back then)
-Tree Houses.
-Hula Hoops.
-Hot wheels!
-Furbies.
-Running through the sprinklers...the neighbor's, not yours.
And "all good things must come to an end..." so died the 90s, along with pogs, nitendo, etc.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Men! A Call to Arms!
What makes the difference between: A, a gentle, loving, strong character-ed, Godly woman who can raise saints, be a wife to her husband, and provoke/help along healing in people's lives, calling all she knows to Christ: and B, a loose, provacative, selfish woman who lives for her own pleasure, hates men, and is always out for her own gains?Perhaps a little bit has to do with her temperament and her personality. Even more has to do with her education. Still more has to do with her peers, her society, her environment. However, none of these is the pivotal point on which her person will turn. A girl from a conservative Christian neighborhood may run away from home and live a loose life, while another who has grown up in Harlem may carry herself like a lady and remain faithful to her man her entire life. Is faith the difference? yeah, but her faith is based on something very much more pivotal, more concrete, more close to home than the pulpit or the chatechism. What is the real difference?
Her father.
Girls need a mother around, yes, and should not live without a mother figure. After all, somethings are just easier when another woman is there to help you along. However, she draws her ideas of what it is to be a real woman from her father. His approval is what really matters. That is why a little girl will put on her mother's lipstick, tie her hair in 25 different ribbons, put on a polka-dot shirt and a flowery skirt, tie 10 scarves around her waist, put on all the necklaces and bracelets she can find, wear her mother's high heels, and run to her father, who is very busy at some task or other. She begins to twirl, saying "Daddy, look! Look Daddy! Daddy daddy daddy! Look! Look Daddy! Daddy Look!" Hopefully, he looks, because then she smiles her biggest smile and says "Am I pretty, Daddy." He thinks "gosh, how did she get so much lipstick on that much surface area?" but he doesn't say that. He bends down to her level, smiles and says "you are so beautiful. You look just like your mother," and she smiles even bigger, runs into his arms, and he holds her close, despite the fact that her rumpled hair is scratching his face and her lipstick is coming off on his shirt. She knows in that moment that she is beautiful, that Daddy thinks she is pretty, that she is worth something.
A great example of this is a story. I once heard from a friend about how her young sister was sitting up in a tree with her older sister, about 14 feet upin the air. Their father walked over to tell them it was time for dinner. She looked up from her book to see her little sister's smile as she lept out of the tree. The girl screamed, and a look of horror flashed over her face and the face of her father, as his heart stopped beating and he lunged forward. He caught the girl just before she would have hit the ground. The older girl watched as her sister continued to laugh and to hug her father, and the father said nothing but held his daughter tight.The little girl was not afraid. She had never been dropped. It never dawned on her to think that maybe daddy would not catch her. Of course he would catch her. He is, after all, Daddy.
So many girls have been dropped.If daddy says "yeah, you look great honey" and continues at his task without a backward glance, the little girl may not show it, but she has been dropped, smack on her heart.A child's veiw of God the Father is drawn from his view of/relationship with his dad. If Dad is always busy, can't stop for a game of battleships, cannot take time out to say "my goodness, Jenny, you look beautiful in that dress," if he doesn't kiss Mother when he walks in the door, a child may grow up thinking that Dad doesn't care about them. "What should I do, Dad?" she will ask, "Oh, I don't care. Do whatever you want. Doesn't make a difference to me."
Think about it.
Girls become the sort of women their father likes. They are always searching for approval from their fathers. All those loose women out there, who are falling out of their clothes, or the ones who are power hungry, CEOs of a large corporation and cannot think of anything but money...yeah, you guessed it. All those nuns and model wives and mothers........yep, that was probably Daddy too. Either that or there was another man who stepped in and picked up the gauntlet, the dropped girl, and took her father's place, rescuing her from the shambles she was in.Don't believe it?
One year, the top model for Playboy magazine was asked why she does what she does. Her answer: because my father loves this magazine and was always looking foreward to when it came, and I want him to love me too, and to make him happy.
One of my friends is right now in a legal battle for her child, born out of wedlock, with the father of her child who is an emotionally abusive, crude, and selfish man. When asked about her father, her response was "Oh, he was there, and I love him." Does he love you, "uh..........I don't know. I guess he does." Several co-workers of mine have children and are unmarried...nor are they still "with" the father. What is your dad like: "Oh he's just there. He comes home from work, sits down with a beer in front of the TV, and that's my dad." Does he love you? "What kind of question is that?" or "I'm sure he does. He's just a man, and you know men, they can't express it love very well. And it doesn't mean as much to them."
It seems like a little thing, but it is true. Ask any woman who is perverted or has been degraded about her father. I can gaurantee you that in 95% of cases she will say "I never knew him" or "I met him a couple of times" or "I hate him" or "oh, he's my dad" or she may just try to brush it off. Girls love their fathers, even if they abuse them physically, emotionally, or sexually. How can you love someone who is so horrid to you? Well, that is the mystery/weakness of love...and of women. They give everything or nothing at all. God is like that too: he continues to love a person despite the fact that they are covered in putrid, slimy gook, and may never really turn back and love him.
I know a girl who was perhaps a victim of the love of her father. Her father set rules on everything: she could not wear jeans, or any shirts that had lettering accross the chest. She had to wear skirts when she became a teenager all the time. She must say the Rosary with the family every day at a certain time (despite accademic or work related conflicts). She must go to daily mass at the church he designated, at the designated time. No make-up, no peircings (not even one earlobe) no nail polish. These sorts of things are not in themselves right or wrong, but the way in which it was done, the manner in which it was enforced was abusive, to the point where she was basically not allowed to do anything and was chastized every day without fail. She was very much in danger of going wild, and did to some extent....when her older brother stepped in to be her "father."
The father is the pivotal point on which a girl's character, ideals, and virtue turn. He is her foundation for what she knows of God, of her Father in heaven. He is where she learns how she should be loved, how much she is worth, and where she will base her standard of men in her life. Women don't naturally jump from one affair to another, or throw themselves into the arms of a worthless man, a man who sees them as a hunk of steak or a video game. If she didn't get love from her father, she will search for it in the places she thinks her father may have found it....or anywhere where a man might hold her and "love" her for a few moments.
All men are called to be fathers, whether or not they are married. A priest who loves his spiritual children may be that man who rescues a girl or boy from destruction by his approval, his acceptance, and his encouragment. The father is missing, the preist takes the place of the father, and the child's ideals are formed on the preist. A single man in the world is still called to be Christ to everyone he meets, to the old Lady in the next appartment, to the girl at the checkout with 25 peircings on her cranium. Never judge a woman, at least outwardly, or tell her she is ugly or worthless because she will remember it for the rest of her life.
Love your daughters and your sons. Love thier mother. Express your love to them in a way that is meaningful to them, not just to you. It may not mean much to your daughter that you drop her off at school every day, or that you give her permission to go to a sleep over. She may want to hear that you love her, or be hugged and kissed. It may not mean much to your wife when you buy her flowers, but it does when you take out the trash, or fold the clothes with her. Every person is unique in the way that they need love. Encourage your children. Set limits in appropriate places (don't force your kids to wear certain colors of clothes for example), like what movies they can watch. Love God, and be the Father to your children, spiritual or biological. It really will make all the difference in the world to their salvation and their character.
Her father.
Girls need a mother around, yes, and should not live without a mother figure. After all, somethings are just easier when another woman is there to help you along. However, she draws her ideas of what it is to be a real woman from her father. His approval is what really matters. That is why a little girl will put on her mother's lipstick, tie her hair in 25 different ribbons, put on a polka-dot shirt and a flowery skirt, tie 10 scarves around her waist, put on all the necklaces and bracelets she can find, wear her mother's high heels, and run to her father, who is very busy at some task or other. She begins to twirl, saying "Daddy, look! Look Daddy! Daddy daddy daddy! Look! Look Daddy! Daddy Look!" Hopefully, he looks, because then she smiles her biggest smile and says "Am I pretty, Daddy." He thinks "gosh, how did she get so much lipstick on that much surface area?" but he doesn't say that. He bends down to her level, smiles and says "you are so beautiful. You look just like your mother," and she smiles even bigger, runs into his arms, and he holds her close, despite the fact that her rumpled hair is scratching his face and her lipstick is coming off on his shirt. She knows in that moment that she is beautiful, that Daddy thinks she is pretty, that she is worth something.
A great example of this is a story. I once heard from a friend about how her young sister was sitting up in a tree with her older sister, about 14 feet upin the air. Their father walked over to tell them it was time for dinner. She looked up from her book to see her little sister's smile as she lept out of the tree. The girl screamed, and a look of horror flashed over her face and the face of her father, as his heart stopped beating and he lunged forward. He caught the girl just before she would have hit the ground. The older girl watched as her sister continued to laugh and to hug her father, and the father said nothing but held his daughter tight.The little girl was not afraid. She had never been dropped. It never dawned on her to think that maybe daddy would not catch her. Of course he would catch her. He is, after all, Daddy.
So many girls have been dropped.If daddy says "yeah, you look great honey" and continues at his task without a backward glance, the little girl may not show it, but she has been dropped, smack on her heart.A child's veiw of God the Father is drawn from his view of/relationship with his dad. If Dad is always busy, can't stop for a game of battleships, cannot take time out to say "my goodness, Jenny, you look beautiful in that dress," if he doesn't kiss Mother when he walks in the door, a child may grow up thinking that Dad doesn't care about them. "What should I do, Dad?" she will ask, "Oh, I don't care. Do whatever you want. Doesn't make a difference to me."
Think about it.
Girls become the sort of women their father likes. They are always searching for approval from their fathers. All those loose women out there, who are falling out of their clothes, or the ones who are power hungry, CEOs of a large corporation and cannot think of anything but money...yeah, you guessed it. All those nuns and model wives and mothers........yep, that was probably Daddy too. Either that or there was another man who stepped in and picked up the gauntlet, the dropped girl, and took her father's place, rescuing her from the shambles she was in.Don't believe it?
One year, the top model for Playboy magazine was asked why she does what she does. Her answer: because my father loves this magazine and was always looking foreward to when it came, and I want him to love me too, and to make him happy.
One of my friends is right now in a legal battle for her child, born out of wedlock, with the father of her child who is an emotionally abusive, crude, and selfish man. When asked about her father, her response was "Oh, he was there, and I love him." Does he love you, "uh..........I don't know. I guess he does." Several co-workers of mine have children and are unmarried...nor are they still "with" the father. What is your dad like: "Oh he's just there. He comes home from work, sits down with a beer in front of the TV, and that's my dad." Does he love you? "What kind of question is that?" or "I'm sure he does. He's just a man, and you know men, they can't express it love very well. And it doesn't mean as much to them."
It seems like a little thing, but it is true. Ask any woman who is perverted or has been degraded about her father. I can gaurantee you that in 95% of cases she will say "I never knew him" or "I met him a couple of times" or "I hate him" or "oh, he's my dad" or she may just try to brush it off. Girls love their fathers, even if they abuse them physically, emotionally, or sexually. How can you love someone who is so horrid to you? Well, that is the mystery/weakness of love...and of women. They give everything or nothing at all. God is like that too: he continues to love a person despite the fact that they are covered in putrid, slimy gook, and may never really turn back and love him.
I know a girl who was perhaps a victim of the love of her father. Her father set rules on everything: she could not wear jeans, or any shirts that had lettering accross the chest. She had to wear skirts when she became a teenager all the time. She must say the Rosary with the family every day at a certain time (despite accademic or work related conflicts). She must go to daily mass at the church he designated, at the designated time. No make-up, no peircings (not even one earlobe) no nail polish. These sorts of things are not in themselves right or wrong, but the way in which it was done, the manner in which it was enforced was abusive, to the point where she was basically not allowed to do anything and was chastized every day without fail. She was very much in danger of going wild, and did to some extent....when her older brother stepped in to be her "father."
The father is the pivotal point on which a girl's character, ideals, and virtue turn. He is her foundation for what she knows of God, of her Father in heaven. He is where she learns how she should be loved, how much she is worth, and where she will base her standard of men in her life. Women don't naturally jump from one affair to another, or throw themselves into the arms of a worthless man, a man who sees them as a hunk of steak or a video game. If she didn't get love from her father, she will search for it in the places she thinks her father may have found it....or anywhere where a man might hold her and "love" her for a few moments.
All men are called to be fathers, whether or not they are married. A priest who loves his spiritual children may be that man who rescues a girl or boy from destruction by his approval, his acceptance, and his encouragment. The father is missing, the preist takes the place of the father, and the child's ideals are formed on the preist. A single man in the world is still called to be Christ to everyone he meets, to the old Lady in the next appartment, to the girl at the checkout with 25 peircings on her cranium. Never judge a woman, at least outwardly, or tell her she is ugly or worthless because she will remember it for the rest of her life.
Love your daughters and your sons. Love thier mother. Express your love to them in a way that is meaningful to them, not just to you. It may not mean much to your daughter that you drop her off at school every day, or that you give her permission to go to a sleep over. She may want to hear that you love her, or be hugged and kissed. It may not mean much to your wife when you buy her flowers, but it does when you take out the trash, or fold the clothes with her. Every person is unique in the way that they need love. Encourage your children. Set limits in appropriate places (don't force your kids to wear certain colors of clothes for example), like what movies they can watch. Love God, and be the Father to your children, spiritual or biological. It really will make all the difference in the world to their salvation and their character.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Excerpt from "The New Medicine: Life and Death After Hippocrates"
'The most fascinating recent coment onthe Hippocratic Oath is one which originated with Margaret Mead, the great anthropologist. Her major insight was that the Hippocratic Oath marked one of the turning points in the history of man. She says, "For the first time in our tradition there was a complete separation between killing and curing. Through the primitive world the doctor and the sorcerer tended to be the same person. He wit the power to kill had power to cure...He who had power to cure would necessarily alos be able to kill.'"
'"With the Greeks," says Maragert Mead, "the distiniction was made clear. One profession...were to be dedicated compltetley to life under all circumstances, regardless of rank, age, or intellect--the life of a slave, the life of the Emperor, the life of a foreign man, the life of a defective child...but society always is attempting to make the physician into a killer - to kill the defective child at birth, to leave the sleeping pills beside the bed of the cancer patient...'"
Maurice levine, Psychiatry and Ethics, New York, 1972.
'"With the Greeks," says Maragert Mead, "the distiniction was made clear. One profession...were to be dedicated compltetley to life under all circumstances, regardless of rank, age, or intellect--the life of a slave, the life of the Emperor, the life of a foreign man, the life of a defective child...but society always is attempting to make the physician into a killer - to kill the defective child at birth, to leave the sleeping pills beside the bed of the cancer patient...'"
Maurice levine, Psychiatry and Ethics, New York, 1972.
Bipolar kids or bad parents?
This article really shocked me, and Ithink it does point out an important issue in our modern day American society: that we look for excuses for everything, for all of our shortcomings, for someone else to wipe our noses, and medication fixes everything. Not so. Think about it. The sentiment contained herein applies to many more issues than just 2 year old being diagnosed as bipolar when they simply have temper tantrums.
At the urging of parents, doctors are medicating far too many kids who just need a better upbringing, according to Dr. ELIZABETH J. ROBERTS
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Stacy Innerst/Post-GazetteOn Dec. 13, 2006, 4-year-old Rebecca Riley died, drowning in her own lung secretions. Her death was the direct result of psychiatric medications which had been prescribed to her for a presumed diagnosis of bipolar disorder -- a diagnosis first given to her when she was only 2 years old.
In September 2007, researchers at Columbia University reported that there had been a 40-fold increase in the number of children diagnosed with bipolar disorder from 1994 to 2003 -- an increase which has shown no signs of slowing.
Worse than the current frenzy to diagnose children with bipolar disorder is the practice of medicating kids as young as 2 with the kinds of psychiatric medications that were once prescribed only to psychotic adults. The shocking reality is that the use of these potent anti-psychotic drugs in children increased more than 500 percent between 1993 and 2002.
This dramatic rise in childhood bipolar disorder has spurred a raging debate in the mental health field. Some psychiatrists insist that this incredible increase is entirely due to the identification of mentally ill children who had been previously overlooked.
Yet a 4,000 percent increase in childhood mental illness, specifically bipolar disorder, is simply implausible and difficult to justify based solely on improved diagnostic techniques. To the contrary, in the 30-plus years that I have been treating, educating and caring for children -- half of that time as a child psychiatrist -- I have found that the approach to diagnostics in psychiatry clearly has deteriorated over time, not improved.
There was a time when doctors insisted on hours of evaluation with a child and his parents before venturing a psychiatric diagnosis or prescribing a medication. Today many of my colleagues brag that they can complete an initial assessment of a child and write a prescription in less than 20 minutes. Many parents have told me it took a previous doctor less than five minutes to diagnose and medicate their child.
How, then, is it possible that in 2007 doctors are now able to identify hundreds of thousands of previously missed cases of bipolar disorder in children by reducing the time they spend with patients from multiple hours to just a few minutes?
On the other hand, there simply is no possible way that the number of children who actually have bipolar disorder has increased from approximately 20,000 to 800,000 in a nine-year period. Yet the arguments of skeptics are being dismissed by academics in psychiatry. Research psychiatrists appear to be more invested in defending their research conclusions -- funded by pharmaceutical companies -- than engaging in a meaningful discussion to examine these preposterous demographics.
What I find more astounding than the claim that there are 800,000 American children with bipolar disorder is the fact that there are that many children whose conduct is so aberrant that their parents are seeking psychiatric treatment for them.
The symptoms, which are regarded as evidence of bipolar disorder, usually are what most people recognize as ordinary belligerence. Children who have anger outbursts, who refuse to go to bed, who are moody and self-centered under the current standard of care in child psychiatry are being diagnosed with bipolar disorder. To most rational human beings, these behaviors describe an ill-mannered, immature and poorly disciplined child. Nonetheless, the temper tantrums of belligerent children are increasingly being characterized by doctors as the mood swings of bipolar disorder.
The over-indulgent parenting practices of the past 20 years have created a generation of dysfunctional children who are becoming increasingly more entitled, defiant and oppositional. In a poll by Associated Press-Ipsos, 93 percent of people surveyed said that today's parents are not doing a good job when it comes to teaching their kids to behave. According to Dan Kindlon, a Harvard psychologist, 50 percent of the parents he interviewed described themselves as more permissive than their parents had been.
The permissive parents of spoiled children seek refuge from blame by using the excuse that their child's angry outbursts are the result of a chemical imbalance. Since a psychiatric condition is completely beyond a parent's control, a diagnosis of bipolar disorder is the perfect alibi. Once a child has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a parent feels absolved of guilt or responsibility for the child's misbehavior and therefore, the parents' discipline practices cannot be called into question.
Parents looking for a psychiatric explanation for their child's misbehavior will find an abundance of support in the media and on the Web for the conclusion that their child's temper tantrums are due to a psychiatric disease rather than the result of bad parenting. Psychiatrists, for their part, are more than willing to accept, without question, the assessment offered by a parent. Doctors have found it easier and less contentious to comply with a parent's wish to have their child diagnosed with a psychiatric condition than to confront the parent with the notion that their own weak parenting is the root cause of the child's aberrant behavior.
Using the diagnosis of bipolar disorder, doctors then justify the sedation of these children with powerful psychiatric drugs. Even though some children treated with anti-psychotics may be temporarily sedated, their belligerent attitude continues unchanged. Of the many children I treat every year who had been previously diagnosed with bipolar disorder, not one of them stopped throwing tantrums after being treated with psychiatric medications. Yet doctors continue to misdiagnose and overmedicate children to appease frustrated parents in spite of the many serious, permanent or even lethal side effects.
Tragically, as in the death of Rebecca Riley, her parents administered the multiple medications prescribed by their psychiatrist for Rebecca's "bipolar disorder" until the meds killed her. A few weeks ago, in an interview on 60 Minutes, Rebecca's mother told Katie Couric that she now believes that her four-year-old daughter had been misdiagnosed, had never been bipolar, and that Rebecca was simply mischievous.
When it comes to misdiagnosing and overmedicating children, doctors have an unwitting, though not unwilling, accomplice -- the parent. Ultimately, it is the parent who is the gatekeeper for their child's health-care delivery. It is the parent who pursues psychiatric treatment for their child, fills the prescriptions and administers the medications. Parents have a duty to protect their children from the folly of this disastrous approach to childhood behavior problems.
Instead of grooming, feeding and educating the next generation of Americans to be the fittest, brightest, most competent contributors on the planet, we have indulged, placated and spoiled our children into dysfunctional misfits. We are teaching our children to use a psychiatric diagnosis to excuse their antisocial behaviors. This will inevitably lead to a greater reliance on psychiatric medications, which unfortunately do not endow an individual with improved self-control or maturity.
Under the guise of treating childhood bipolar disorder, the spoiling of American children not only undermines their healthy social development, but it also puts them at great risk for the serious medical complications inherent in the use of psychiatric medications, including death.
First published on November 18, 2007 at 12:00 am
Dr. Elizabeth J. Roberts is a child and adolescent psychiatrist and the author of "Should You Medicate Your Child's Mind?" (Perseus Books, 2006). She practices in California and recently took part in a symposium on bipolar disorder at Point Park University which contributed to a new book, "Bipolar Children: Cutting Edge Controversy, Insight and Research," edited by Point Park Prof. Sharna Olfman.
At the urging of parents, doctors are medicating far too many kids who just need a better upbringing, according to Dr. ELIZABETH J. ROBERTS
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Stacy Innerst/Post-GazetteOn Dec. 13, 2006, 4-year-old Rebecca Riley died, drowning in her own lung secretions. Her death was the direct result of psychiatric medications which had been prescribed to her for a presumed diagnosis of bipolar disorder -- a diagnosis first given to her when she was only 2 years old.
In September 2007, researchers at Columbia University reported that there had been a 40-fold increase in the number of children diagnosed with bipolar disorder from 1994 to 2003 -- an increase which has shown no signs of slowing.
Worse than the current frenzy to diagnose children with bipolar disorder is the practice of medicating kids as young as 2 with the kinds of psychiatric medications that were once prescribed only to psychotic adults. The shocking reality is that the use of these potent anti-psychotic drugs in children increased more than 500 percent between 1993 and 2002.
This dramatic rise in childhood bipolar disorder has spurred a raging debate in the mental health field. Some psychiatrists insist that this incredible increase is entirely due to the identification of mentally ill children who had been previously overlooked.
Yet a 4,000 percent increase in childhood mental illness, specifically bipolar disorder, is simply implausible and difficult to justify based solely on improved diagnostic techniques. To the contrary, in the 30-plus years that I have been treating, educating and caring for children -- half of that time as a child psychiatrist -- I have found that the approach to diagnostics in psychiatry clearly has deteriorated over time, not improved.
There was a time when doctors insisted on hours of evaluation with a child and his parents before venturing a psychiatric diagnosis or prescribing a medication. Today many of my colleagues brag that they can complete an initial assessment of a child and write a prescription in less than 20 minutes. Many parents have told me it took a previous doctor less than five minutes to diagnose and medicate their child.
How, then, is it possible that in 2007 doctors are now able to identify hundreds of thousands of previously missed cases of bipolar disorder in children by reducing the time they spend with patients from multiple hours to just a few minutes?
On the other hand, there simply is no possible way that the number of children who actually have bipolar disorder has increased from approximately 20,000 to 800,000 in a nine-year period. Yet the arguments of skeptics are being dismissed by academics in psychiatry. Research psychiatrists appear to be more invested in defending their research conclusions -- funded by pharmaceutical companies -- than engaging in a meaningful discussion to examine these preposterous demographics.
What I find more astounding than the claim that there are 800,000 American children with bipolar disorder is the fact that there are that many children whose conduct is so aberrant that their parents are seeking psychiatric treatment for them.
The symptoms, which are regarded as evidence of bipolar disorder, usually are what most people recognize as ordinary belligerence. Children who have anger outbursts, who refuse to go to bed, who are moody and self-centered under the current standard of care in child psychiatry are being diagnosed with bipolar disorder. To most rational human beings, these behaviors describe an ill-mannered, immature and poorly disciplined child. Nonetheless, the temper tantrums of belligerent children are increasingly being characterized by doctors as the mood swings of bipolar disorder.
The over-indulgent parenting practices of the past 20 years have created a generation of dysfunctional children who are becoming increasingly more entitled, defiant and oppositional. In a poll by Associated Press-Ipsos, 93 percent of people surveyed said that today's parents are not doing a good job when it comes to teaching their kids to behave. According to Dan Kindlon, a Harvard psychologist, 50 percent of the parents he interviewed described themselves as more permissive than their parents had been.
The permissive parents of spoiled children seek refuge from blame by using the excuse that their child's angry outbursts are the result of a chemical imbalance. Since a psychiatric condition is completely beyond a parent's control, a diagnosis of bipolar disorder is the perfect alibi. Once a child has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a parent feels absolved of guilt or responsibility for the child's misbehavior and therefore, the parents' discipline practices cannot be called into question.
Parents looking for a psychiatric explanation for their child's misbehavior will find an abundance of support in the media and on the Web for the conclusion that their child's temper tantrums are due to a psychiatric disease rather than the result of bad parenting. Psychiatrists, for their part, are more than willing to accept, without question, the assessment offered by a parent. Doctors have found it easier and less contentious to comply with a parent's wish to have their child diagnosed with a psychiatric condition than to confront the parent with the notion that their own weak parenting is the root cause of the child's aberrant behavior.
Using the diagnosis of bipolar disorder, doctors then justify the sedation of these children with powerful psychiatric drugs. Even though some children treated with anti-psychotics may be temporarily sedated, their belligerent attitude continues unchanged. Of the many children I treat every year who had been previously diagnosed with bipolar disorder, not one of them stopped throwing tantrums after being treated with psychiatric medications. Yet doctors continue to misdiagnose and overmedicate children to appease frustrated parents in spite of the many serious, permanent or even lethal side effects.
Tragically, as in the death of Rebecca Riley, her parents administered the multiple medications prescribed by their psychiatrist for Rebecca's "bipolar disorder" until the meds killed her. A few weeks ago, in an interview on 60 Minutes, Rebecca's mother told Katie Couric that she now believes that her four-year-old daughter had been misdiagnosed, had never been bipolar, and that Rebecca was simply mischievous.
When it comes to misdiagnosing and overmedicating children, doctors have an unwitting, though not unwilling, accomplice -- the parent. Ultimately, it is the parent who is the gatekeeper for their child's health-care delivery. It is the parent who pursues psychiatric treatment for their child, fills the prescriptions and administers the medications. Parents have a duty to protect their children from the folly of this disastrous approach to childhood behavior problems.
Instead of grooming, feeding and educating the next generation of Americans to be the fittest, brightest, most competent contributors on the planet, we have indulged, placated and spoiled our children into dysfunctional misfits. We are teaching our children to use a psychiatric diagnosis to excuse their antisocial behaviors. This will inevitably lead to a greater reliance on psychiatric medications, which unfortunately do not endow an individual with improved self-control or maturity.
Under the guise of treating childhood bipolar disorder, the spoiling of American children not only undermines their healthy social development, but it also puts them at great risk for the serious medical complications inherent in the use of psychiatric medications, including death.
First published on November 18, 2007 at 12:00 am
Dr. Elizabeth J. Roberts is a child and adolescent psychiatrist and the author of "Should You Medicate Your Child's Mind?" (Perseus Books, 2006). She practices in California and recently took part in a symposium on bipolar disorder at Point Park University which contributed to a new book, "Bipolar Children: Cutting Edge Controversy, Insight and Research," edited by Point Park Prof. Sharna Olfman.
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