Cats, Resident
The Big Freeze broke up. I didn't want to let Serena roam around alone outdoors, or even alone with young Drudge, so I went out and puttered in the yard with them. It was a pleasant, sunny afternoon, a little above refrigerator-temperature, quite pleasant after a Big Freeze as long as we dress warmly and keep moving.
Trumpkin came back to visit. Silver did not. I'm fighting off thoughts of "If they hadn't let Trumpkin STEAL my junior cat, I might have SAVED her," because they may or may not be true; I think the home treatments I can offer may have saved Serena; they did not save Pastel; the chance that they would have saved Silver is, therefore, one in two. But, although as a loyal beta cat she never really acted like a pet, I was very fond of Silver.
Cats, Other
Too funny! And the photos of British cats are all clear and adorable.
Christian
St. John Chrysostom made a good case for the "continual celebration" philosophy, reprinted online with minimal commentary:
But although there are measurable boosts to our moods and even our health from singing, praying, and doing works of charity (how else could Mother Teresa have lived so long?), I think Chrysostom's argument still needs balance--today. In bygone days when people were taught from infancy that it was rude to laugh out loud, open their mouths wide in a tooth-baring grin, or indulge in jokes or giggles in the presence of the recently bereaved, the idea that there was still something it was possible to celebrate with spiritual songs and good meals might have needed more publicity. Today we're more likely to run off the other side of the road, as people who are in fact tired drag themselves to church to encourage others and are then battered with discouraging remarks--"Why so glum? Where is your smile?" We need to insist that, despite the benefits of the genuine smile that can't be faked (although it can be kept from baring teeth), the physical reaction that shows when "my eye delights in the sight of you," there is no benefit at all in demanding that people smile when the mood the body actually intends, and needs, to communicate is weariness. We need to tell the people who think they're called to be cheerleaders that, unless they are in fact young women employed to add sex appeal to sports events, they are mistaken, and that CELEBRATING THE GLORY OF GOD DOES NOT INCLUDE INDULGING THE SELFISH, BOSSY MANNERS OF EXTROVERTS. Not for a moment.
When a Christian looks tired, the correct response that needs to be pounded into the heads of some contemporary Christians is "Thank you for coming to church, in spite of everything!" Any little note of discord with that chorus needs to be pulled aside for some prompt and strict discipline.
Michigan
Toward the development of that healthy pride that motivates people to help their neighbors recover from disasters...That's sooo condescending. The blogger just took visitors to the museum. This web site has no way of knowing whether it's being read by any rich people in Michigan but, if it is, in view of last week's news this web site wants to encourage that sense of We take care of our own! Hurrah! And Jeanie takes such good clear photos...
Psychology
Here is a video interview between two men who were at least trained in medical fields, though neither one identifies as MD, a degree people usually want to publicize if they've earned it. The one who says the sensible things has been discredited for his errors on COVID, we are told. (In this video they don't discuss COVID.) The one who parrots the lies that are not merely stupid but toxic--like "there are no proven risks with pesticides," so go ahead and eat those poison-soaked grains and buy pills to try to medicate your symptoms forever--does not disclose having been disciplined by an employer. Wouldn't it be instructive if YouTube received thousands of messages this week, from regular viewers demanding that he disprove some of the known risks of pesticides (which he can't) or pull down the video?
Would that change his views? Probably not, because of the phenomenon sometimes described as testosterone poisoning. He's just been educated by a more competent "doctor." Did that help? No, he'll dig further into the delusions he's been paid to parrot, lock horns with anyone who tries to help him bring his beliefs closer to reality, and spew hate over those who correct his errors. Men like that can be discredited and banned from practicing medicine, but they can't really be helped, because they would rather die than admit they were wrong.
In some speculative fiction I've written, males are just not admitted to academic professions, because, even though some men can do science honestly and well, the risk of having science done by testosterone-poisoned greedheads is thought to exceed the benefits of competent male scientists' contributions. I would hate to think that the real world needs to go that far.
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