Oddly, the New York Times reported today that the Colorado theater shooting suspect, James E. Holmes, bought much of his arsenal online — “It was pretty much as easy as ordering a book from Amazon,” the story said.
Twelve people were killed and dozens more were injured in the shooting. Holmes goes to court today.
And thanks, Amanda, for letting me steal this off of you on Facebook.
…read this from the New York Times’ David Brooks, and fired back rather nicely don’t you think? Olen took special offense at Brooks’ notion that:
Affluent, intelligent people are now more likely to marry other energetic, intelligent people. They raise energetic, intelligent kids in self-segregated, cultural ghettoes where they know little about and have less influence upon people who do not share their blessings.
Imagine blaming women for income inequality. Where do these guys come up with this twaddle?
And thanks, Leftover, for the link.
Don’t Indulge. Be Happy.
A New York Times Sunday Review piece by researchers Elizabeth Dunn and Michael Norton (authors of the upcoming book, “Happy Money: The Science of Spending“) says that once you’re earning $75,000 or so, you’re about as happy as you are going to be, and any extra money is just superfluous.
They also say you’re happiest when you’re sharing.
Sharon and Susan both sent me this, a recent Bill Keller’s New York Times column that included this gem of an idea for nuns who find themselves unable to stay in a church that condemns them:
There are many nuns who hold fast to the church out of genuine devotion. But there are others who stay out of fear — fear that they will grow old alone, fear of penury and homelessness, fear of losing purpose.
Thankfully, Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York has offered us one possible remedy for this problem. As Laurie Goodstein documented in The Times recently, when he was archbishop of Milwaukee Dolan authorized payments of up to $20,000 to predator priests if they agreed to leave the clergy without resisting. He described this as “an act of charity.” Bill Donohue calls it “a severance package.”
I suggest that any long-serving nun who has come to find church teachings incompatible with her conscience should be offered a generous severance. We could call these acts of charity “Dolan Grants.” Surely a church that offers a lifeline to men who brought disgrace on the institution can offer a living stipend to women who brought it honor at great sacrifice.
What would you say?
Sweden is trying an experiment, where regular Swedish citizens get to be the voice of the country on Twitter for a week. The country’s government allows people to take over the Twitter account, and you can read more about that here.
So what if God handed Her Twitter account off to regular people, and you had a week to tell people what you think they need to know. I’d start with “I love you. @God,” or maybe “It’s going to be OK. @God.” But then, that probably represents the God I worship, my version of God. Other people might tweet “You are in SUCH trouble…@God.”
Or, as Mike the Heathen, who sent this, says: “Ho-ho-hold on a second:”
At the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School in Midland, Michigan, would-be Jolly Old St. Nicks are being trained to help children downgrade their Christmas expectations. According to the New York Times story, the recession has resulted in:
…a Christmas season in which Santas — including the 115 of them in this year’s graduating class of the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School — must learn to swiftly size up families’ financial circumstances, gently scale back children’s Christmas gift requests and even how to answer the wish some say they have been hearing with more frequency — “Can you bring my parent a job?”
While I appreciate the notion that children shouldn’t view Christmas as a non-stop me-session (I don’t think children should be encouraged to make Christmas lists — unless those lists are the things they intend to make or buy others), there is something heartbreaking about telling a child “No.” And I say this as someone who, as a mother, was skilled at saying no — except maybe at Christmas. Maybe I’m getting soft. Or maybe I think the recession shouldn’t affect Christmas.