Almost

Getting there...

New Blog format is coming. I'll be archiving old posts elsewhere.

Blogging Hiatus

For those of you who didn't know, 99% of blogs are regularly read by the inner circle of the blog's author. Lyons Den, it appears, is no exception.


While I'm happy to write for my friends and family, I feel Lyons Den suffers from a common blog-related dilemna:
a.) My target mission is too broad (crunchy conservatism, a culture of life, and a collective virtue),
b.) By not focusing on any one thing, I end up doing all three less effectively than I could do any one,
c.) I only have strongly held opinions in all three, not expertise in any one.

Ergo, I'll be spending the next few days/weeks revamping the blog into something:
a.) specific,
b.) effective, and
c.) expertise-driven.

Keep this page bookmarked, a link to the new site will be up. To my loyal readers/commenters, thank you for regularly checking in! I can't promise you'll enjoy the revamped effort, but I assure you that whatever is next won't pile on to the heap of unsubstantiated quasi-whining already so prevalent in blog world, as I fear Lyons Den is on the cusp of doing.

Sometimes I'm not Grown-Up

Last night, I went out with two friends with whom I room mated in college, Scott and James. James and I play on a softball team together; Scott moved back to the greater Madison area 10 days ago.

If you’re at all familiar with the Madison bar scene, you know that Brothers on University Ave. has 10-cent wing night on Wednesdays. You also know that Wednesdays are packed at Brothers. Scott, the recent Madison transplant, assumed that Brothers wouldn’t be so crowded during the summer, as classes aren’t in session. James and I, who commonly go out after our Wednesday softball games, knew better.

We both tried to convince Scott to meet us at the Great Dane in Fitchburg (although probably more so myself); equidistant from our three houses, what the Great Dane lacks in 10-cent wings it more than makes up for in an absence of crowds and noise. He wouldn’t hear of it. This is a man who was on a mission to eat a lot of chicken and not pay for it, and if he had to put his foot down, then dammit his foot was coming down!

So we went to Brothers.

Brothers was packed.

Brothers was loud.

Brothers had a line for wings that took 90 minutes to get through.

While pissed-off James waited in line, pissed-off Tom went to find somewhere to sit down. Taking my bucket of High Life (which is also a special on Wednesdays), I dropped five of them before James and Scott eventually showed up with food after waiting in the Great America-esque line. The ONLY two consolations on the night were running into an old acquaintance from my St. Paul’s volunteer days, and Scott admitting that we should have gone somewhere else.

Why am I telling you this? Because there are a few instances of pride rearing its ugly head here, and without calling them out, they may re-rear.

First, after it was suggested that we change course and head to the Great Dane, Scott’s foot got put down; he was fighting – if only subtly - this suggestion. Second, instead of just playing along, I wanted to fight back on Scott’s foot getting put down; no way I’M going into that cesspool of blaring music (so that I can’t hear my friends) and packed crowds. Third, I wasn’t going to be happy with the night unless Scott at best apologized or at worst admitted we should have gone somewhere else (which, coincidentally, he did).

This probably should have been handled better on a number of fronts.

There needs to be some system in place whereby the outing choices of all involved are respected over time. Once in a while, we go to Brothers, another time Great Dane, another time some other choice.

There needs to be mutual receptivity to suggestions. This is all about merely keeping an open mind. Periodically, someone will suggest something that is not among the preferences for others. That’s ok.

No one needs to get a kick out of someone else admitting they’re wrong.

I don’t know what should floor me more: that three grown-up men don’t know how to do this, or that these really stupid petty disagreements – that in the end are nothing at all – own such a large share of our collective emotional energy. Shame.

I Should Have That Job

So I admit that I think I could be the General Manager of a baseball team. Give me leverage to hire the right staff, an owner who’s willing to take some heat in the press for atypical moves, and my ego tells me that I could field a winner given a few years and an average payroll.

I think that through, though, and the only conclusion I can arrive at is I’m obviously missing something. It’s clearly harder than it looks, no my fantasy team doesn’t count, and I’d be in way over my head. My head knows that, my heart doesn’t.

But both my head and my heart are certain that I would be a better general manager than Jim Bowden and Brian Sabean. The latter received an extension from San Francisco today, and I was not considered by the Giants before the contract was signed. Their loss. No really.

Ignoring Political Correctness in the Name of Prudence

I'm watching Cinderella with my daughter this weekend. For those of you who have been Cinderella-absent for a while, there's a scene where the King is brainstorming a way to get his son - the prince - married. "There's got to be one suitable mother somewhere in my kingdom," he says. The plan they hatch includes the ball, yadda yadda, you know the rest...

Now, the original Disney movie was made in 1950; had that line come out today, it would be seen as completely offensive and there would be calls for boycotts against Disney. Even at a wedding today, are we still allowed to compliment the groom on what a great mother the new bride will be? Maybe, but it's probably more taboo.

If you're going to get married or consider getting married, and you have one iota of a chance of ever wanting to bring up considering having children, and you don't factor in what kind of parent your significant other will be, then you're committing a REALLY bad oversight into your considerations. This is so beyond common sense, it's stunning.

To be fair to the PC crowd, parenting isn't everything, for sure. Skating isn't everything in hockey, either; flour isn't everything in cookies; potatoes aren't everything in a french fry. In marriages where there are kids, parenting is THE major thing (or ought to be), and nothing really comes close.

For those of you who aren't yet married and still considering it, please take a long time to get a good grip on what kind of parent your partner likely will become. It's grossly underemphasized, and you'd do well to spend time thinking about it.

Revisiting Roe-based Reservation

Revisiting my post from last month on the abortion debate's "middle ground."

Abortion is as polarizing of an issue as it is, not solely because of differing opinions on what starts when, but on differing talking points altogether. Pro-lifers (at least the ones who aren’t bombing clinics) are not “anti-choice” or “anti-women,” just as pro-choicers (at least the ones who don’t work for Planned Parenthood) are not “pro-death” or “pro-abortion.” Imagine the prohibition supporter calling someone who favored its repeal “pro-alcoholism.” That ending abortion has more at stake than ending alcoholism is true, but it is because life throws at us issues with differing degrees are why we philosophize at all: to maintain a principled approach throughout.

Ask someone who is pro-choice if they would prefer a world without abortion provided it remained legal, they quite probably would say yes. Ask someone who is pro-life if they would prefer a world without abortion provided it remained legal, they may very well say, “I’m confused as to the question, isn’t banning it how we end it?”

In the pro-life community, it’s commonly – although I admit subtly – held that reversing Roe is the equivalent to ending abortion, and therefore warrants 100% of all of our effort in building a culture of life. If, tomorrow, the Supreme Court reversed Roe, and further ruled that the Constitution guarantees a right to life for the unborn, one of two things will inevitably happen: abortion will end, or abortion will go underground. For the pro-life community to center their efforts on reversing Roe implies a faith that the former will happen.

Further, if it’s true that abortion would immediately end, then the current debate is entirely appropriate. Personally, I have my doubts, although we can’t prove one or the other. What we’re left with is figuring out a way, somehow, to end abortion. Pro-lifers can’t literally reverse Roe, but we can equip pro-choicers to do everything that non-legally centered pro-life battlers can do: peacefully persuade our fellow citizens to practice sexual responsibility (see also: abstinence) and ultimately choose against abortion; that is, SAVE PRECIOUS LIVES!

That co-operation involves merely noting that which is:
a.) already true, and
b.) can’t be immediately changed by anyone not sitting on the Supreme Court right now. Abortion, at present, is legal.

My point is not that we need to redefine when life begins to appease some members of the pro-choice crowd; Rome, natural law, and common sense have already defined it for us. Nor do I want to end efforts, necessarily, at reversing Roe. My goal is, in part, to point out to the pro-life community that my hypothetical situation (abortion over but still legal) mentioned above absolutely achieves the end we have in mind: the end of abortion.

Following Philosophies to their Logical End

I’ve long thought of myself as an advocate – in varying degrees - of libertarian philosophy. I trust in human freedom, perhaps blindly, and I hate the thought of involuntarily being controlled by a puppeteer, as in the authoritarian model.

When I follow libertarian philosophy to its logical conclusion, though, I find myself displeased. Perhaps selfishly, I don’t want to live in a society with rampant violence, drug use, prostitution, poverty, urban sprawl, polygamy, and any other of many social ills that human freedom affords society the chance in which to partake. It’s true that a society that permits extreme human freedom doesn’t have these social ills necessarily, but it’s also likely that they wouldn’t be eliminated.

But what of authoritarianism? To make things “better”, I could be the authority, the puppeteer. I could decree the “perfect” society. But with no obligation to respect human freedom, I have no deterrent to not legislate for a perfectly moral society, and enforce it as I saw fit. The result might be a society that is indeed rid of terrorism, drugs, violence, etc., but where my puppets have become zombies, robbed of their freedom in the 1984esque world I’ve created.

The logical conclusion of both schools produces nothing resembling a society in which I want to live. Therefore, either:
a.) I actually ought to prefer one of these,
b.) I'm not applying something correctly, or
c.) There’s a third way I’m missing.

I’m quite probably heading out of my theological league with this next point, so I’ll try to keep it both simple and brief. Flow with me on this argument.

1.) Lucifer – then an angel - sinned against God while in heaven. (Given)
2.) Lucifer’s being an angel was not the cause of his sinful action. (Given)
3.) Ergo, humans can sin in heaven. (1 & 2)
4.) God is aware of this logical possibility. (Given)
5.) Sin is, necessarily, an abuse of free will. (Given)
6.) God created heaven. (Given)
7.) Heaven is the highest most perfect place among all creation. (Given)
8.) Ergo, in God’s opinion, perfect places maintain the possibility of sin occurring for sake of free will. (3, 4, 5, 6, & 7)
9.) By virtue of my love of God, I should mirror His thoughts, actions, and directives where possible. (Given).
10.) THEREFORE: I should prefer places that maintain the possibility of sin occurring for sake of free will.

Now, to be fair, there’s a whole other set of logic about how Earth is a fallen world v. Heaven maintaining perfection that I’m not going to even attempt a similar argument on. All that would do, though, is pave the way to justifiably apply some prudence to determining under what circumstances acts of the free will are to be banned by an earthly society. Not that they’re my only two choices, necessarily, but I’m merely trying to decide which extremely-applied philosophy ought to be preferred: the authoritarian camp, or the free will camp.

I think I have to go with the latter.

(I smell a series of blog entries coming on this topic…)

On Forgiveness

I received a phone call yesterday from a former client of mine from my financial advising days. I’ve known this person for at least ten years, I’m particularly close with a member of this person’s family, and we’ve been quite friendly with one another for as long as I can recall.

As it turns out, I committed an act of oversight when I left the industry. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that my own lack of diligence particularly stressed this person and caused some justifiable anger on their part. I’m listening to this individual on the phone yesterday, and it became quite clear to me: I’m wrong, they’re right, we have nothing to argue about, we both know the facts and the facts say that this person being upset with me is completely justified.

I felt completely inadequate apologizing, but I still did so profusely. I wrote a letter immediately reiterating how sorry I am, again hoping that somehow I wouldn’t lose this person’s friendship. This person doesn’t warrant special attention relative to other clients I had per se, but I wasn’t personal friends with all of my old clients either; losing that is a tough pill to swallow.

This whole ordeal has gotten me to think a bit more seriously about the nature of apology, forgiveness, and justice. I thought that might be blog-worthy.

First, it seems to me that my living with the knowledge that this person may hold a legit grudge may be perfect justice for my error. I’m thinking of the scene from Godfather III, when Michael confesses his life of crime and then sobs pathetically, only to hear the Archbishop reply, “It is just that you suffer.” Not that suffering is ideal, nor is my offendee’s potential grudge, but it may very well be what I deserve.

Second, my Catholic upbringing wants to scream that this person owes forgiveness, but thinking about it more I think that’s wrong. I am in debt to this person because of my error; they’re not in debt to me because I apologized. I would argue we all have a moral burden to care for our bodies as gifts from God, but does that mean we all have a moral burden to exercise regularly, necessarily? I’m not sure it does. I might be able to say definitively that this person’s mental/emotional/spiritual health would be bettered via forgiveness, but that doesn’t necessarily mean forgiveness ought to be expected. “To forgive is divine,” that is, in that it’s a free gift of the forgiver.

Third, being a forgiver by nature helps the process of seeing one’s own errors. This realization doesn’t exactly apply to this case, as the offendee hasn’t erred at all. Speaking broadly about offense and subsequent forgiveness, though, and I think that it’s clear that forgiving the errors of those who have offended us sheds some light on where we too have made mistakes. Perhaps that’s why forgiving others can be so difficult? It also may be the case that consciously forgiving another’s mistake forces an easier self-reflection on our own committing of the same mistakes in the future, thus further purifying virtuous conduct.