Vort

The American equivalent is "Herbert Hoover", that hit the scene in 1929. Not very popular, though performed better than expected given the circumstances. "Herbert Hoover" did not suck nearly as much as popular media of the time claimed.

Lest any cry out at the ignorance of attributing plains to the Judean landscape as a uniquely American display of ignorance, consider the popular English-language version of the popular French hymn/noël Les anges dans nos campagnes, called Angels We Have Heard on High, which tells of angels "sweetly singing o'er the plain". Here's a nice little arrangement of the French:

I suspect it may have been as simple as that Jesus' disciples did not consider being rich a sin. On the contrary, as in our society (probably moreso), the rich were considered blessed by God and probably more virtuous than the average person. If, as in the case of the rich young man, a rich person uses his wealth generously and honorably, and otherwise lives a covenant life, yet still is not fit to enter heaven, then who is? The answer, of course, is: No one. None of us is worthy to enter heaven on our own merits. The rich have an additional and substantial struggle: They must overcome the desire for their own money. As Christ taught, with men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible. That makes this into a tale of hope, not despair.

Someone's curious...

It was a group that, within a decade, posed a credible existential threat to the combined Nephites and Lamanites under Lachoneus, so it wasn't all that small.

Ozymandias, or maybe Galadriel.

What with venturing into space and the likelihood of off-world colonies, we're headed back to the future. Btw, urine from a healthy person is almost perfectly sterile. Some people drink their own urine for supposed health benefits. Disgusting? Yes, at least to me. Unhealthful? Probably not. While I doubt there's any benefit to it, there is very little risk to drinking your own (fresh) urine. Repurposing such bodily fluids to harvest useful chemicals seems eminently reasonable to me.

Whaut hauppenued tou theu euxtraneous "u"?

OR

The non-intuitive truth is that righteous living in a righteous society inevitably brings prosperity and wealth. It might take a generation or even two, but it's a sure as day following night. Success becomes its own trap for the spiritually immature, even for righteous folks.

I do not believe this is a misinterpretation. I think that is exactly what we are required to do. A camel can crawl through the eye of a needle more easily than a rich man can enter heaven. But aren't we always told how rich we all are in America and in western democracies in general? If we're all rich, does that mean none of us *are going to heaven until and unless we give up our riches? I believe that is exactly what it means. *"None" can be either singular or plural, depending on usage. This has been the case since Old English, so it's not some new-fangled construction. Just in case anyone was wondering. King Lamoni's father, whom the book of Alma calls "the old king", offered to give away his kingdom (and, more importantly, all of his sins) to know the blessings of God. And as we read, in the end that is exactly what he did. Exactly. He gave away all of his sins, or started down that path, and as a result he "lost" his kingdom, and shortly after he died. Salvation comes to us when we, like the old king, sincerely wish to have the blessings of God to the degree that we willingly give away all things, including our riches, our position, our standing among men, and any other vain and worthless thing that we value. When we take the sacrament, we remake our baptismal covenants, including the covenant to be willing to take upon ourselves Christ's name. Note that we do not actually covenant to take Christ's name upon us; apparently, Christ's name cannot be taken, only bestowed. So we cannot affirmatively take Christ's name by our own volition. Rather, when we have sanctified ourselves—better said, when we put ourselves in a position to be sanctified—then Christ seals us his and makes us like him, wherein we take upon ourselves his name because he allows us to do so. So we strive for this state of spiritual cleanness, humbling ourselves before the Almighty and relying on his saving grace. Can a man who depends in any degree on the saving power of money really be cleansed of the blood and sins of this generation? I think the answer is clear. We are cleansed by God when we repent and, to the extent of our ability, make ourselves clean in bearing the vessels of the Lord, whether those vessels are sacrament trays, gospel teachings, testimonies of truth, or our own children. I do not say how this sacrifice must be done, because I don't know. I'm still busily involved in trying to make this sacrifice and be found acceptable before the throne of the Father of us all. But I'm confident that the sacrifice must be done, and that our Father and our Savior will joyfully accept that sacrifice when we finally make it an offering to them. Whether that involves physically giving away all our money or something more subtle, I can't say. I can only say that the sacrifice is real and must be offered if we are to receive the blessings God would bestow.

Most interesting fifteen minutes you ever spent.

If you weren't ill before you heard the talk, you would have been afterward, anyway.

Hollywood bakes dog doo sugar cookies. Vidangel is an attempt to extract the dog doo so that the cookies are less unhealthful; you get that good sugar cookie taste without the nasty dog doo! Best of both worlds! Except that there's a fundamental flaw in the plan. Hollywood makes dog doo cookies. Even if you extract (most of) the dog doo, the cookies are what they are. Hollywood has spent three full generations teaching us the glory of revenge (in unison: "A dish best served COLD, heh heh heh..."), the joy of carnality, the ineffectuality of meekness. Femininity is weakness, masculinity is toxic, the best women are basically men with a difference in plumbing, the best men are, well, nonexistent, really. Families are oppressive, the patriarchy is evil to its core, and our very best model for action is the foul expressions and outright street rebellions in certain elements of 1960s radicalism. Religious expression is embarrassing foolishness, and exists solely to be mocked. Free thinking and action is always encouraged, as long as it leads away from the traditional family. There is no Bowdlerization that fixes this. No amount of censoring of nasty words will change the fundamentals of what Hollywood offers. Vidangel, for all their good intentions, offer nothing more than a bandaid on the amputated stump of Hollywood productions. What we really need is a society that rejects Hollywood's venomous offerings and demands something much better, and some production companies that cater to that desire and that have the actual depth of character and conscience to make something worthwhile, something that leaves the audience better off than they were before they went to the movie theater. Lady Ballers is not that movie, though arguably it may be a small step away from Hollywood orthodoxy. The pessimist in me doesn't believe this will ever happen. But another part of me thinks it's possible, if people will turn away from the vomit that is Hollywood and hold out for something better. Being addicted to "entertainment" does not help the cause. /rant

My wife took me on a date to the movie. It was not bad, better than I had been thinking going in. Supposed to be a sci-fi retelling of Job. I'd say more fantasy than sci-fi, but a reasonable effort. I enjoyed it, and would watch it again.

Many years ago, I wanted to thank Sister Gabbott for this hymn. I tried to find information about her, but got nowhere. Several years ago, I tried again, and found out unsurprisingly that she had died. A similar thing happened some years or decades ago when I was thinking about my old high school shop/driver's ed teacher, a Mr. Simon. He lived in a very small town, so I thought it would be easy to find information, but for some reason I couldn't. A few years ago I tried again, searching online for the area of Tekoa, a tiny farming town in eastern Washington state. I finally found a newspaper notification that he had died—again, not surprising, seeing as he was older than my father. So I missed my chance on thanking an old and influential teacher who provided an example for me. I trust that, not many years hence, I will be able to express my thanks to Sister Gabbott and Mister Simon face to face. Until then, the good they wrought lives on at least in my own heart.

Perhaps my favorite hymn.

Just to clarify, my experience had little or nothing to do with handicapped or special-needs children. It was an entire (and humongous) ward where child discipline was apparently non-existent, where a dozen or more little children would run screaming up and down the aisles and even on the pulpit, where the average ambient noise level from the congregation was sufficient to render the speaker inaudible, even over an amplified PA system. Again, I am not exaggerating.

Nah. I was mostly joking anyway.

Yeah, I've seen that before. I find it inappropriate and a sign of parents lacking in parental skills. A bishop should pull such parents aside and kindly counsel them to control their children and not allow them to wander around. But again, what I'm describing goes way, way beyond that.

"Silly" originally meant "stupid". This is the sense I believe it was meant in the Book of Mormon (and in the Bible, for that matter). Today, we use "silly" to mean something like "childishly or entertainingly foolish". It is often a term of endearment. That's probably the idea your friend had in mind when objecting to such a "non-scriptural" word. I share no such feelings at all, though I can understand how one might feel that way. For me, the word "silly" works just fine.

FTR, children in LDS meetings, especially sacrament meeting, should never be allowed to "run free". I think we take it as a point of pride (if I may put it so) that we gladly include our children in our congregations, even though that means we have to make allowances for some minor disruptions. We're okay with that, because that's what it takes to rear a family, and we're all about that. Non-LDS visitors often notice, and occasionally remark, on this phenomenon. To many, it seems baffling to allow such interruptions, and makes the meeting seem less reverent to them. This is a social point, something that visitors will have to adapt to, because we're not leaving our children alone while we go to sacrament meetings any time soon. If this is what you're talking about, Gator, then I understand and I sympathize with the viewpoint of the visitors, even while I hold fast to the LDS point of view. But what I was attempting to describe is something that went way, way, WAY beyond that. I have never, before or since, participated in any Church meeting or activity that approached the atmosphere we experienced for those six weeks. I have sympathy for those in the ward who longed for a Spirit-filled meeting of Saints but who never got it. I understand how difficult the challenge would be for a bishopric. I don't mean to be critical of individuals. I have just never experienced anything else like that, and frankly hope I never experience anything like it again. Or if I do, I hope I'm in a position to help such a ward find a better way.

I admittedly get irritated with Utah-bashing, especially the bashing of the Utah Saints, and normally speak up against it when I see it. Forgive me if I indulge just a bit in what may seem like Utah-Saints-bashing. It is not meant as such; just a recounting of my experience. We were students at BYU when Sister Vort and I married in 1988. At BYU, Church student wards are provided for all students, both single and married. Sister Vort and I met and married at a singles BYU ward (namely, the language houses ward, whatever it was called, back in the olden times when there were actually individual language houses scattered around the perimeter of campus). But we bravely decided that rather than continue in a BYU married ward, we would venture out and join the Real Ward® that included the house we were renting. So the Sunday after we returned from our short honeymoon, we dutifully set off for Our Real Ward. For me, it was an interesting experience. This ward had so many young men that it had two rather large elders quorums. (Quora, I suppose. Don't get much chance to use that plural, so I had better take advantage when I can.) I was assigned, IIRC, to the second quorum. The people were very friendly and as welcoming as one could expect. My wife's experience was similar. The Relief Society was enormous. For the time we were there, she was asked to introduce herself EVERY WEEK. Apparently, the RS presidency couldn't keep track of who was new and who had already introduced herself. So although people were friendly enough, we were lost in the crowds. But the point of this story is sacrament meeting in the ward. Every sacrament meeting was an exercise in utter futility. There were LITERALLY (i.e. I am not making this up) small children running up and down the aisles screaming and running around the congregation, even on the pulpit. You may disbelieve me if you choose, but I am not exaggerating. It was unending pandemonium every single week. (In the six weeks we attended, we managed to hear exactly one sermon: A young (maybe 14-year-old) woman complaining about how awful her life was and how she didn't get the support she needed from her YW leaders.) After six weeks of this, we admitted defeat and fled back to the confines of our new BYU married student ward, where we greatly enjoyed worship and fellowship for a couple of years. I don't know what ever happened in that ward. I do not understand why the bishopric did not put an end to such disgraceful actions in their first few weeks. I wonder if people just get inured to the noise and irreverence and don't notice it any more. I could also believe that some ward members might take offense and get their nose out of joint, which would be too bad. But what good does such a "meeting" do, anyway? Maybe it would be worth offending some to create an actual reverent atmosphere. It's one thing to have babies and little children occasionally crying out during a meeting and having to be taken out of the congregation area; that's how life is, and most Saints understand that. But utter pandemonium is not acceptable, and cannot possibly be pleasing to him whom we claim we're worshipping.

FTR, Harrison Bergeron is the sad tale of a society gone completely lunatic, where "equalization" means that anyone with any gifts, either physical or intellectual, is handicapped by the state to make sure he does not excel. That way, everyone is truly equal. When one young man throws off the shackles of this society and allows himself to enjoy and share his wonderful abilities, the lady with the shotgun is there to enforce the rule of law and make everyone equal again. A different kind of equalization, one I thought contrasted humorously (though admittedly a very dark humor) with the TV (or probably movie) version of the Equalizer.