Banal theories...

A post with no headers or subdivisions or links to what I'm talking about.
.
I posted this clip a couple of days back and then pulled it thinking I'd use it another day when there is nothing to blog about.  But like Andre in the film - I just keep talking and talking so I always have something to write about.  Banal theories - love that line.  I have a lot of them, as well as pointless stories.
.
Although this morning I'm sad over a number of things, some of which I can't control.
.
The oil spill/leak in the Gulf for instance. What a terrible disaster, it affects people, wild life, industry - the ecology: mercy, mercy, mercy me. Seriously!  I see the photos, it is a disaster and it will only get worse.  It makes me sad.
.
The immigrant problem. I am apolitical about the issue - I can empathize with both sides, but my sympathy is with the poor men, women and children who struggle. I see souls. Souls who need salvation - like me and you. So I pray to Our Lady of Guadalupe, San Jose, and San Toribio. Minneapolis has a very large Latino community - I love Latino people and pray for them - I'm especially concerned they remain Catholic.  Actually, that is my greatest concern.
.
Banal theories - I told you I love that line. I suppose I have a lot of them - and so it seems other bloggers do as well.   Blogging is like My Dinner With Andre in some ways - forgettable diatribes about nonsense - today everything seems like nonsense to me.  Today is one of those days I wonder, "Is the world nuts or is it just me?"  (Note to crazy people, forgive me for using the "nuts" word.)
.
I read a post last night by a priest sort of warning about charismatic founders of new religious communities - and I thought, "I write about these things quite frequently, yet people always get annoyed with me and think I'm criticizing them."   (Honesty is often perceived as cruelty by the effeminate.)
.
"But you are crippled Blanche, you are!"  Baby Jane told her sister.
.
And so yes - maybe I was writing about them - but criticizing them?  Not so much.  Pointing out that they are crippled?  A little bit.  We all are in some way.  So I wonder if Father was doing that too?  (Now I do sound crazy, don't I.  Well maybe I am Kathy Bates.)
.
People criticize me all of the time of course - because "I'm out there, George!  I'm out there!"  They seem to criticize me precisely because I'll point out a few things just as Father does in his post.  So what?  We all make mistakes and it's good to know we are all quite fallible.  It just makes me sad when we pretend we are something we are not.  This probably makes no sense, I know.
.
As my regular readers know, I'm sometimes sad about church people - I don't want to get too involved with them.  Recently someone asked me if I wanted to gather some information for the Church - I can't say on what, where, or whom.  I thought about it.  I would be acting "undercover", infiltrating a group, spying.  I just kept thinking, "That's what Judas and the scribes and pharisees did."  I got this creepy feeling in the pit of my stomach.  If something seems bad - it is - follow your gut.  When you sense something is wrong - something is wrong.  But good or bad, I can't do it.  That is not part of my religion.  No offense to my friend who suggested the plot to me.
.
The other day, I was reading something from Garrigou-Lagrange and came across a bit of paper I used for a bookmark.  It was a newspaper clipping from several years ago now.  A church lady friend cut out the news story, neatly pasted it on a recipe card with a note explaining when the item appeared in the papers.  She had informed me about the case earlier but I told her I didn't believe it could be true and did not want to discuss it.  To prove to me it was, she gave me the news article which detailed how a married man had been convicted of a crime.  The man in question was a highly respectable member of the local Church, quite active, a third order member, a founder of a religious community, known for his devotion, happily married, and so on.  He did something naughty with a client.
.
While it is true I never liked the guy, he was sort of a traditional snob, very proud of his academic achievements, and terribly knowledgeable about liturgy - no English translations for him;  I always treated him with respect and kindness.  In other words, I was friendly and helpful towards him when he asked for a favor - I even did some art work for him gratis.  I did my best to avoid talking about him, although the church lady must have known somehow I wasn't fond of him, which is why I imagine she gave me the news clipping.  Rather than turn me against him completely, his public failing helped improve my attitude towards him.  Despite the fact the entire town knew about his crime - he never changed his mode of life.  He remained as devout and faithful as ever, although he seemed much less officious when dealing with inferiors.  He seemed more down to earth.  I admired him for that. 
.
Why do I tell this story?  The man is dead now - when I heard his story I was much younger - and he the same age I am today.  (I thought he was so old that such a crime would be impossible for a man his age.  The Devil laughs at youth.)  Anyway - it was a good lesson for me.  For me it demonstrated first hand what happens when a person, motivated by personal antipathy, even envy, attempts to dig up dirt on another person, exposing their faults, in order to discredit them or turn others against them.  It's creepy isn't it - the fact that we keep going over the same lesson plan until we get it right I mean.  I'll bet this fellow struggled all of his life with these issues.  God allows us to fall that we may become humble and charitable.
.
Not infrequently things which bother us in others sometimes reveal more about ourselves than it does the other person.  What annoys us in others often enough is mirroring what we ourselves are guilty of, or in other words, exposes the log in our own eye.  So like when Baby Jane told Blanche the truth, that she was crippled, Blanche might have responded, "And you're mental and your make-up is hideous!"  Does that make sense?
.
No, of course it doesn't.  Finish your dinner.
.
Anyway, I'm still sad.  Blogging is like My Dinner With Andre - a lot of banal theories and hot air - and like the film, very forgettable.  Although I'd like to see a remake of the film, only this time they would be drinking heavily.
.

Icon source and meaning.