Hereunder

St. Patrick in the Dock

Judge:	[reviewing papers]
	Alright. Counsel does your client have a last name?
Counsel:	No, you honor – he just uses "Padraig"
Judge:	Alright.
	Padraig, do you understand that you’ve been charged with multiple violations of the Endangered Species Act?
St. Patrick:	Ni hea!
Judge:	Sir.
	Do you understand that the government alleges that you did knowingly and willfully destroy a variety of species of snake by driving them from their natural habitat?
St. Patrick:	Sea. Ach...
Judge:	Counsel, does your client speak English?
Counsel:	No, you honor –
	only Gaelic, some Latin, and smattering of Old French.
Judge:	Do we have a translator?
Prosecutor:	Uh... actually, we have no Gaelic translators handy, your honor.
Judge:	Well, how can he understand the charges?
Counsel:	Well, your honor, that may not be necessary.
	You see, we have objections to the indictment.
Judge:	And, what would those be?
Counsel:	Well...
	First, the indictment does not specify the species of snake alleged to have been destroyed, as required by the Act.
	Second, the alleged destruction occurred some 1500 years ago – well beyond any applicable statute of limitations.
	And, third, the alleged destruction occurred on the Isle of Eire. With all due respect, your honor, this Court has no jurisdiction.
Judge:	What is the government’s response?
Prosecutor:	Well, your honor, we.. uh....
	To tell the truth, your honor, I am unprepared to respond. After all, aren’t we are the mere fictive imaginings of the Author of this transcript – a despotic Author at that.
	He’s capriciously placed us, here, without any means or resource to respond to your honor – as if you existed, at all.
Judge:	Counsel –
	I didn’t ask for your theosophical ruminations – just a simple response to the objections. And, hearing none, I have no choice but to quash the indictment and let this curious fellow go free.
St. Patrick:	Biochas le Dia!
Paddy:	[standing up in the gallery]
	Bless you, your Honor! Bless you! Ye’ve done the right ting!
Judge:	Sir, are you involved in this matter?
Paddy:	Well, I’d say so.
	Isn’t Padraig me own first cousin twice removed? Sure, he’s a saint if ever there was. And, amn’t I named for himself?
Judge:	Well, sir, I fail to see how you are involved, and I would ask you to sit down.
Paddy:	Ah, sure I will, your honor.
	But, wasn’t your decision pure Solomonic? I mean, not like, cuttin’ the babe in two, like. But, sure, that wasn’t the point was it. No, Solomon knew the story, just like yourself, your Honor.
Judge:	Bailiff, please escort this gentleman from the courtroom.
Paddy:	[being led out]
	May the road rise to meet ye, your Honor! May the sun....
	[transcript ends]

Blast From The Past II

Gentle visitors, the chill winds are still blowing in these parts, but the solar calendar insists that Spring is soon to come.  With this in mind, we think it fitting to refer you to a prior post, being poetical exhortation attributed to one Claude Faubush, a native of Ohio. 

Mr. Faubush had a varied career that including stints as a sportswriter for the now defunct Mahoning  Valley Messenger, a traveling salesman of household utensils and curiosities, and a roaming representative for the Mexican Sweepstakes.  In 1939, he pled nolo contendere to a charge of false utterance (passing a bad check) in Chillicothe, Oh. 

Thereafter, he seems to have reformed his life, and went on to preach revivals all around the Midwest region.   Mr. Faubush was reputedly a second cousin to Rogers Hornsby, and he claimed that his sister-in-law went to school with Bobby Jones. 

On that apparent authority, Mr. Faubush penned a brief tract on the relative virtues of baseball and vices of golf. 

Seven Deadlies Luncheon

Gentle visitors, let us listen in on the monthly luncheon of our constant companions, the Seven Deadlies.

Superbia:	I don’t know why I hang out with you losers.
Invidia:	Oh, Miss High & Mighty.  Aren't we special.
Superbia:	Envious are we? Typical for a lowlife. [looking over menu] God, there’s nothing here worth eating.
Invidia:	"Oh, I mustn’t spoil my gorgeous figure!"
Ira:	What a pair of snobs! You make me sick!
Gula:	[looking at menu] I’ll take the monster portion.
Ira:	Shut your yap tubbo! There ought to be a law!
Avaritia:	I’m not picking up the tab for all of this
Invidia:	Who would expect you to? You’re only the richest one here.
Avaritia:	Well, that didn’t happen by accident, dearie – it’s the fruit of sound investment policy and wealth preservation strategy.
Superbia:	Ah, the nouveau riche. How tiresome.
Acedia:	I’m tired. Are we done?
Luxuria:	Check it out – our waitress is hot, hot, hot!
Invidia:	Oh yeah, she’s beautiful – in a cheap kind of way.
Luxuria:	I didn’t say she was beautiful, just hot.
Ira:	What a perv! Someone ought to bust your chops!
Gula:	Can I get a second helping?
Superbia:	God, what a slob. Have you ever heard of a napkin?
Gula:	[chewing food, indecipherable]
Acedia:	This is boring. Can we go now?
Waitress presents bill
Luxuria:	[grabbing waitress] Hey, baby! Haven’t we met somewhere before?
Avaritia:	[examining bill] See – I told you they’d overcharge. I hope she doesn’t expect a tip.
Ira:	Skinflint!
Gula:	Can I get a doggie bag?
Acedia:	Do we have to walk to the car?

Lent Relent

Gentle visitors, we have arrived at about the mid-point of Lent, a season observed by the Romish and others.  Pilgrim that he is, your humble Contributor marks the season by trudging along with his fellow lowly cohorts in the faith.  But, at about this point, his rebellious nature begins to bray and stay put like senor burro, burdened and halfway up the cold, desert sierra. 

The issue, your humble Contributor tells himself, is the whole notion of self-denial so tied to Lent.   It seems such an out-dated concept, what with the new science of self-affirmation.  Why, he asks himself, continue writing the same old negative self-scripts for yourself when you could be writing positive self-scripts, by which you might take a "healthy 'selfish' or self-oriented route in your life so that you can 'let go' of people who drain your resources and keep you from experiencing full personal health?"  Goodness, it sounds positively wonderful! 

The first step, of course, is visualizing your healthy/selfish self, free from burdensome family, neighbors, co-workers, etc.  Visualize your own private magic omnibus, happily tooling along and tooting the horn ....  Do you see it?  Yes.  Now, visualize tossing these resource-draining others to the curb.  Off you go!  Farewell, burdensome baggage.

Next step, practice assorted self-affirmations: 

• "I am the best friend I have!"
• "I am the brightest, most capable, creative, intelligent, giving, loving, handsome, relaxed, and enjoyable person I know!"
• "I would have had nice teeth, if I had proper orthodontia in my youth!"

Whoops!  Already slipping into another negative self-script.  Let's try the next step: giving up whatever is non-self-affirming. 

• Give up doing the dishes -- the source of much pain and anger.   
• Give up admonishing yourself for your failures of will - "failure" is no longer in your personal vocabulary  -- everything is now a "success", even those successes that would land you in debt, prison, or Siberia for the winter.
• Give up giving up things -- give in and live a little -- you're worth it!

There.  Now, your humble Contributor finds himself feet up, consuming a quart of bubbly, flavored fructose, a tub of popped and larded corn, and a entertainingly vacuous program.  He says to himself, "Self, thou art affirmed."

Sadly, he will probably return to the same, tired old self-script on the morrow -- a man, once again, in denial.