Up-ish Again. Yay!

Spent about a week feeling way, way worse. As in: Light-headed verging on headache-y if a sat upright. At all. So I watched movies, because writing flat on your back is not so fun. Interestingly (disturbingly?) the one thing I didn’t do was pray any better. But SuperHusband & I did do some contingency pre-planning, and discuss funeral music, because, well, we’re picky about music. Last night I pointed him to the Dies Irae, and he was alarmed no one had ever played it in church before. Makes you feel cheated. I’ve never heard it myself, I just look at in the hymnal and know that I love it.

So whichever one of us dies first, the other one gets to hear good funeral music live, and the early-departer gets the remote version. (Or, if we’re bad . . . let’s not think about that. I know there’s suffering in purgatory, but our Lord wouldn’t stoop so low as to open The Gather and . . . we’re not talking about that now. I’m going with those lines about pleading for mercy.)

So my kids have this weird notion that the way one faces serious illness is to give your spouse dating advice and watch movies all day.

And then I started feeling better again. I won’t say I feel *normal* sitting upright, but at least I feel normal enough that I keep doing it, because: More interesting.

And definitely not feeling all funeral-planny this week, so that’s good.

Follow-up appt with cardiologist next week, in which we figure out where I should go next.

***

I started back writing stuff, and if you don’t subscribe to the blorg, you can periodically check the archives and click on the interesting stuff. I’m trying to use titles that more or less tell you what the post is about. Here you go, I think this is all the interesting bits since last I posted here:

March 28, 2014 Students Angry at Catholic School for Teaching Catholic Faith – UPDATED News item out of Charlotte, NC, w/ prayer request for you to pray for Bishop Jugis, and also I rant a little.
March 28, 2014 Do the Ends Justify the Means? Blog catechism class, because some of my readers were unclear on how double-effect and don’t-do-evil-that-good-may-come-of-it work. Also, now my all time favorite intro to theology book can be purchased on Amazon — that is, there were six copies, used, when earlier I wrote. They might all be sold now.
March 27, 2014 How Can the Spirtually Flabby Be Helped? Link to my New Evangelizers column. I was irritated by the people who say, “Lent is So Easy! Quit Whining!”, so I wrote about how they could quite whining about the whiners (me), and make themselves useful around their parish.
March 27, 2014 How’s that Religious Freedom Thing Working Out These Days? The Constitution. I’m partial to it. Blame my upbringing. Interesting weird arguments going on in the combox. Someone brought Rastafarians into it, as people will.
March 26, 2014 What Makes a Catholic Book Catholic? Link to my column at the CWG. Because the day before I said I really really liked Funeral Kings (movie), and I do like it, and you should be briefly scandalized by that that assertion, but I have reasons. But no, it’s not Catholic — at least, not the kind of Catholic that gets a CWG Seal of Approval.
March 25, 2014 St. Dismas Day, and a Movie to go with: Funeral Kings More f-bombs in that movie than I think I have ever heard anywhere anytime, and that’s saying something. And yet weirdly, it’s a good movie, in it’s way.
March 23, 2014 On Evangelization: Even People Like You are Missionary Material Reprint from a few years ago, column from Amazing Catechists that coincided with the day’s Gospel, which was the Samaritan woman at the well. You may remember it’s the one where we see how she evangelized despite herself.
March 21, 2014 Radio Silence = Please Pray See. I was sick. Sick-Er. Proof.

***

That’s all I know. Some real life friends and I were thinking we ought to pick a reputable ~~Servant of God (~~a “venerable”) who’s angling for a promotion to be our next invoked-saint. Any suggestions? Favorites?

psst . . . Jen . . . quit mixin’ up your holy-people terms. “Servant of God” is the step before “Venerable.” See more here, Thank You, Wikipedia!

News & Links: Four Variations on the Parent Problem.

1. Now up at New Evangelizers, my latest contribution to the RE Conflagration:

The answer to the parent-problem is simple: Evangelize them. Mom or Dad (or Grandma or Grandpa) has darkened the doors of Church, and so what if they’re just there for the poinsettias or the white dress, run with it! Welcome them, share the Gospel with them, and bend over backward to make it possible for them to take another step forward in their faith. They might or might not choose to accept that invitation, but we can at least eliminate as many excuses as possible.

Also you learn something about the state of my garden. Which is no better than the state of my housekeeping, as it happens. Despite the fact that I love the one and could happily dispense with the other. Go figure.

2. Update from yesterday’s round of vexation, condensed and paraphrased version:

Dr. W: I dunno what’s wrong. How about we do a heart cath?

Us: Really?

Dr. W: Really.

Us: Really?!

Dr. W: Really.

We did that about twenty different ways, then set a date for March 12th. He said I was probably quite safe checking the mail in the meantime. And anything else I feel like doing.

(He didn’t mean “anything I feel like doing” as in: Break into the box of Easter chocolate. He meant like physical exercise and stuff.)

UPDATE TO CLARIFY per a question from a friend: By “twenty different ways”, what I mean is that we talked about all the medical issues and agreed on a plan. Didn’t mean that to sound like we just shook the 8 Ball or something.

3. If you want do something double-good this Lent, consider reading one of Ann Frailey’s books.

4. Please pray for the repose of the soul of Larry D’s father. Who popped into my mind for entirely other reasons, which I’ll chat more about a different day.

Rant-o-Rama – Catechesis Edition + Proof I Can’t Proofread But You Should Write Your Story Anyway

1. If you haven’t seen Dorian Speed’s posts on Catechesis, look now. #2 is up. Don’t neglect the combox. But here’s what: If your parish has to wring hands over whether to give the 2nd Graders a pre-sacramental quiz, the question isn’t, “Should we give a quiz?” The question is, “How have we gotten into this bind, and what do we need to do radically differently from now on?”

The answer is not in the quiz. It’s not about the quiz. Soul at a time. Soul. at. a. time.

2. You should never, ever, write something like this:

There’s a fine line between humility and stupidity, and I try my best to stay on the better-edited side of that line.

Yes, I used the word “try”. I was trying. I was. trying. I proofread that post. I did. Proofread. Solemn assurances of truth-telling. And yet we’ve found three egregious typos in it so far today. Read it yourself and see what else you find.

[Hint: I tell you that if you like to write, you should write the stuff you like to write. Not complicated, and yet weirdly people get all confused about this. Also I plug the CWG, because trust me your favorite best-selling mega-busy author is not your critique service. But the CWG? We do this. Amateurs welcome.]

3. Back to catechesis: Allow me to tell you a terrible story. I once had a DRE tell me how much she loved her current job, because it was so different from her previous parish. “Here, all the catechists go to Mass on Sundays!”

I was happy for her. I was.

But seriously. Problems in catechesis run deep. It’s not about the quiz. The quiz conundrum is the nasty festering ulcer everyone’s tempted to chop off, and maybe it does need to be chopped off, or filled with leeches or maggots or I dunno what. But until you figure out what’s causing that festering wound, new ones are going to keep popping up. There are bigger problems. Deeper problems. Fix those.

4. Prayer and fasting. That’s how.

About that sweet ‘lil prostitute next door . . .

She doesn’t want to be there. One of the most offensive and pernicious lies in the film industry are those “cheerful prostitute” characters. It’s all well and good to write nuanced characters. But the whole happy-whorehouse thing isn’t just cheap tricks for lazy writers who can’t think up real stories. It’s the glamorization of something that, if it happened to you, would destroy your whole world.

***

I will spare you the thought exercises, since I try to keep this blog shiny clean. But don’t tempt me. I’m a writer, and that means I can make you see things you didn’t want to see. Just go ahead right now and throw into the trash every DVD you own that perpetuates that lie. And change the channel, forever, if you see it on TV. Thanks.

Papal Economics + We Don’t Want Your Stinkin’ Snow Plow

Over at the the blorg bookshelf, I do a book club bleg. I’m reading Papal Economics, which is a good book, but one that wants to be discussed. So if that’s your scene, get a copy and chat with me. Your place, my place, whatever suits. Let me know what you like.

***

Meanwhile, speaking of economics:

1) Usually snow does not actually cause any more problems in the South than it does anywhere else. That thing going on in Atlanta is an aberration. And really? Atlanta? It’s Atlanta. ‘Nuf said.

2) Ice causes problems. There is an economic case to be made in favor of below-ground power lines. But the call-before-you-dig people probably have the winning charts, so I bet our lines stay overhead for a long, long time. And really, the ice mostly just makes things cold and unpleasant. It can cause the same terrible problems it can cause anywhere. But most people don’t experience that. So you’d have to have some serious cost-benefit studies before even taking on much in the way of anti-ice measures.

But, please, dear northern friends, do not form a 501(c)3 and start collecting funds for poor, snowplow-deprived southerners.

3) Because here’s the clincher: When we get “winter weather”? We want to stay home.

Not only is there no financial justification for, say, your county owning a snow plow when you have a perfectly good Sun that will be back again by Friday . . . who’d want one? Why on earth would anyone want to go to work on the only snow day in a year? If you’re lucky enough to get snow that often. Way better to get out the ATV, hitch up a towline and an inner tube, tell the kids to hang on tight, and do donuts on the school playground.

Clarification: I don’t actually think parents should do this. But I approve of the spirit of such recreation. Only mean nasty evil people think innocent children should do school work during the Snow Minutes. Sheesh, one shouldn’t even have to do housework doing the snow minutes. You shouldn’t have to go to bed. You should just admire, photograph, touch, shape, throw, sculpt, and roll in the stuff.

I do feel cheated, though, because NOAA’s revised their forecast, and it’s not supposed to hit 60 by the end of the week. I was looking forward to short sleeves. Meanwhile, yes, of course we have harvested our icicles and tucked them away safely in the freezer. Waste not want not.

The Hard-Headed Life

Snippets since I fell off the internet – no, nothing bad going on, not really. Just my life. You know the scene.

1. The weekend before Thanksgiving, three kids are outside playing tag after dark. Seven-year-old daughter comes inside, weeping and telling us she hit her head. Mandatory concerned-parents questions, but we determine that it wasn’t that bad, she’s just tired, because what she hit her head on was her brother’s shoulder. She settles down, though she keeps reminding us her head hurts.

A few minutes later, Mr. Boy comes inside. His shoulder hurts. You know — where his sister’s head hit it. Can’t be that bad, right?

Next morning, as someone who shall not be named is trying to persuade the boy to quit favoring the shoulder and move it around a little so the muscles don’t get tight, the Mom-alarm goes off. Something is not right with this scene. Further Mom investigation, followed by confirmation at doc-n-box: Broken collarbone.

PSA: Do not play rugby with my 7-year-old.

2. I wrote this article at New Evangelizers. I knew it was slated to run on Thanksgiving, but I wrote it anyway. Hint: I rant about the usual things I rant about, instead of telling you to be grateful for stuff.

How did writing this column change my life? I resolved to wear hats more often. Not at church, necessarily. Just around. Because I like them.

3. At CatholicMom.com, I answered this post from Rebecca Frech. In my column, which you can find here, I assert that my children are not too sheltered, though I give no particular evidence on that point. Those who worried that by “being selective about the movies they watch” you feared I was depriving them of sappy puppy-themed formula films, or hyper-violent Korean parodies of Clint Eastwood films, fear not. We’re covering those bases tonight, that’s why I have time to blog.

4. Awkward blogger moments: I’m at the Family Honor in-town class session that finishes out the course Jon & I took last summer. Great class. Highly recommended. We’re sitting at dinner, and the program director turns to me, and says, “Jen, I just found out you blog. I just started blogging. Tell me — how often to you post?”

I had to explain to him that I had recently fallen off the internet. I went home resolving to post here ASAP, so I’d look more respectable when he clicked on my blog. But the DSL was out.

#5 – #17: About the Internet

5. SuperHusband had to take a child to a violin concert Sunday afternoon, so he put Mr. Boy in charge of contacting AT&T to get the DSL fixed. All part of the child’s education. (So. About all our sincere efforts to not make other people work on Sundays. Isn’t DSL like an ox in the ditch? Isn’t it?)

So the boy gives it his best. Of course, he does not himself work in telecom, so he’s fresh meat. Customer service convinces him we need a new modem.

SuperHusband comes home and rejects this diagnosis. A new modem is the two-aspirin of the Telcom customer service world. He starts to make the boy call back customer service and argue more, but I step in and plead mercy, mostly on me but a little bit for the boy and his father, too. SuperHusband gets on the phone, talks customer service off their ledge, and after a cordial but intense discussion with Nathan in India (is it Sunday in India?), they get the idea that maybe a change of service is in order. AT&T will send a guy around in the morning. No, they won’t charge for installation.

I’d been planning to go to Chik-Fil-A in the morning to check my e-mail, but I agree to stay home so the problem can be solved.

6. 8:10 AM the friendly customer service guy rouses me from a sleep even St. Josemaria couldn’t touch. He’ll be there at 8:40, will that be okay. Yes. I lie and tell him yes. It is not exactly lying if you are also praying that by 8:40 it will be okay.

7. My excuses for being tired include the fact that we are gradually shifting #2’s sleep schedule later and later, so that she can sing at midnight Mass. Thus, all children are asleep. Or faking it because they know it’s Monday, always a risk they might have to do work on a Monday.

8. I have no excuses for the way my house looks.

9. So what I need is a WWMDC bracelet. I go to the kitchen and start asking myself, “What would Mrs. Darwin clean next?” I clean that thing, then repeat repeat repeat. By 8:40, as long as the blinds remain closed, and all the lights except in select cleaned-places remain turned off, the house looks like a place that would not cause a telecom tech guy to call social services.

10. I failed to think about the phone guy when we put chicken prison in exactly the place where the phone lines enter the house. I apologized. He pretended it was no big deal. Tech guys lie just as much as housewives.

11. He was incredulous when I explained that we had no crawlspace, and yes, the phone lines go through the attic. A tech had just fallen through someone’s attic only last week. AT&T does not want to send people into your attic.

12. There were complications. Complicated complications. We eventually get hold of the SuperHusband, who has an intelligent conversation about telecom things with the tech guy.

13. Tech guy gets permission from AT&T to install the new service on our ancient phone lines. Since running a new cable would involve the attic. And other things.

[Note: During all this time, I am continuing to clean my house. The children wake-up eventually, and I convince them to clean the house, too. I am acting as if there is some good reason why I woke up to a trashed house on a Monday morning, and that naturally if no DSL problems had arisen, I would not have spent the morning answering e-mail and blogging, I would have done those dishes! Right away! By the time the tech guy has his marching orders, the house is looking sort of civilized. My children transition to acting like they are doing school work. They are pro’s at this, and even I am briefly fooled.]

14. There’s a problem. The newly-installed service works, but not to the company’s quality standard. More investigations. A manager is called. They visit all the phone jacks in my house. They are gathering evidence that we have the weirdest wiring in the Southeast. (There’s a place that’s weirder, I’ve seen the photos, but it’s in Baltimore.) They need to install new cable.

15. The manager moves on, the tech guy installs the new cable. Through the attic, of course. He sustains no injuries, thanks to my helpful tips. (Stay on the plywood. Not on the pink stuff.)

16. It’s not the cable in the attic after all. Maybe it’s the box at the curb . . . the one with the oak roots entangling it, such that the box cannot be opened.

17. More investigations. Actually, the problem is a few blocks up the road. Tech guy apologizes for mistakenly upgrading my wiring.

Utterly unrelated. Not really. #18. I agreed to be one of CatholicMom.com’s Gospel-reflection writers for 2014. Lisa H. immediately signed me up for the 16th of each month, before I had time to change my mind. This means I have to read a snippet from the Gospel twelve times a year, and think about what the snippet says.

Yes. I know. It seemed like a good idea to me, too.

7 Takes: Shakespeare Makes Me Sick, Rant-o-Rama, and Other Beautiful Things

1. So. Shakespeare.

I started the week all productive. New quarter. Got the checklists printed out, vowed, “This time I will stay on track!” all that. Also, I had to pick Mr. Boy’s next literature choice. I went through the Kolbe Jr. High Lit Course Plans, and Merchant of Venice kept popping out at me. I was leary after the Great Poetry Fiasco of 2013, but I heeded the little voice.

And I got a brilliant idea: Since two big kids are always hanging around wanting to talk to use from 9-10, formerly known as “Kids Are In BED AND PARENTS HAVE ADULT TIME”, yes I am shouting by the end of that sentence, I figured out a way to either get the children to go to bed, or live out the homeschool fantasy of everyone sitting around reading Shakespeare together in the evening. Win either way, right?

So Tuesday night I hand out copies (mismatched, but we rolled with it) of the play, we divied up the parts for Act 1, Scene 1, and it went pretty well. Some of us were having so much fun, we went ahead and started scene 2.

At which point, Splash.

Yes. My child vomited over Shakespeare.

Said child reported after, “My stomach felt weird, but I wasn’t sure . . .”. So hard to tell the difference between a stomach virus and Literature Dread.

[Everyone’s better now, thanks for asking.]

When we restart, I’m issuing a bucket with each manuscript.

2. I updated my e-mail software. I hate it. That is my excuse for why I can’t find your e-mail anymore. I will grow and change and find your message and reply to it. Soon. But not before late afternoon today.

2.5. Visit our hostess for useful information about this:

photo 3 7 Quick Takes about haunted houses, affordable weekend wines, and #TWEETSONAPLANE — I borrowed this photo without asking. Because I never, ever, want to lose the link to this post. If Jen F. makes me take it down, I will. But you know why she’s a superstar blogger? Because: Affordable Wine. Doesn’t get much more Catholic than that.

3. Let’s talk about your vocabulary, hmmn?

Good Catholic friends, please tell me you know that you’re not supposed to take the Lord’s name in vain? So I will charitably assume that if you gasp “Oh my God!” when talking about someone else’s clothing choice, or the water bill this month, or what happened in Congress, that you are in fact moved to prayer. I think you should cut it out, because everyone *thinks* you’re just taking the Lord’s name in vain, and maybe you even are. But I’m not going to presume.

What with being Catholics, we tend to cling tightly to our right to use “strong language”. All those things St. Paul has to say about our word choice are trumped by our Lord’s choice insults, yes? So we say. I’ll not take up that fight today.

But if you’re going to resort to coarse, over-used cliches of insults for lack of a broader vocabulary — perhaps your imagination is foiled in the face of tribulation — would you please kindly restrict yourself to accurate metaphors?

For example, some people accuse the Church of thinking sex is dirty or shameful or I don’t know what. It’s nonsense of course — quite the opposite: If we are very particular about chastity, it’s because sex is so powerfully good, holy even, and should not be profaned in any way. We only have seven sacraments, and one of them has to do with sex. Yep.

So, please oh please oh please, speak as if you’ve been catechized. Do not sling around crude terms for the marital act as your insult of choice — let alone as your darkest and strongest insult. Do you really think that intercourse is some foul, nasty, evil thing? When you search for some vivid way to describe a sordid injustice, is the first thing that comes to mind your experience with the marital act?

I certainly hope not. Clean it up.

4. Come see me talk. St. Peter’s Catholic Church, Columbia, SC, Saturday Nov. 9th, daytime. I’m just doing a panel in the afternoon, on the “Classroom Management” topic. In the morning I’ll be listening. I kinda wish I could listen in the afternoon, too, the other panelists look pretty interesting – I can’t find an internet link, but the overall topic is stuff like bullying, working with special needs students — useful. Contact the Diocese of Charleston Catechesis Folks to get more info or to RSVP. There’s a nominal cost that covers lunch -n- stuff. Gorgeous site, too, do visit the church and cemetery if you come.

5. Speaking of sex . . . I’m hosting a blog tour and giveaway for Simcha’s new book on NFP. Where should I do it? Here? Amazing Catechists? Patheos? I need to pick a spot.

6. Speaking not of sex . . . My friend Karina Fabian has a new book out. I haven’t read it, but I keep meaning to blurb it. If you like clean adult sci-fi, Catholic-themed usually, fun and a quick read, take a look. I’ve never not enjoyed reading one of her books, though I don’t do the zombie thing — I had to crop her cover for my presentation on finding a publisher this past summer at CWG, because, gross. Firmly planted in my Hardy Boys Not Thomas Hardy preferred category.

7. Aren’t these beautiful? I can’t decide whether they’re in budget or not. I do need a holy water font for the house. I’m nervous about the glass. But wow. Pretty.

Be Careful with those Precendents

My thoughts on a pair of related conversations I’ve witnessed lately.

#1: Liberal friend, offended by Barilla’s opposition to using gay couples in their advertising, declares that corporations have no conscience rights.

–> The precedent she’s proposing: If the religious right gains power, she’s volunteering to carry out in her business and public life whatever religious or moral requirements those tea party extremists manage to pass.

(Hint to subversive types: Consider hunting down the openly and adamantly pro-choice owners of a local printing company, and commissioning a pile of anti-abortion literature from them. Consider hiring the local pagan to print your anti-Wiccan Christian tracts. They haven’t the right to discriminate against you, we’re being told.)

#2: Conservative but sophisticated friend dismisses the concerns of those who don’t like certain literature choices mentioned in the common core standards. She argues that kids are going to be exposed to such things eventually, etc., etc..

–> Here’s the reality for the vast majority of young people: Whatever the public schools put on their reading the list, the student is now required by law to read. Failure to comply means failure to be admitted to nearly every job opening that offers a living wage.

Private schools? Home schools? The refuge of a privileged few. Most parents have no option but to send their child to the local public school. And if they fail to do so, their child will be seized by the state and put into the care of the foster system.

Yes, that’s the reality. Your child is literally forced by law to read whatever is on the list, or forgo every economic advantage that high school graduation confers.

That’s not me being reactionary. That’s me summarizing life in the US today.

So, precedent #2: Be careful what you say is an acceptable choice for that high school literature curriculum.

Verse and Censure for the Feast Day + Chris Tollefsen at Public Discourse

Since we’ve been speaking of wealth ’round here lately . . . a limerick for today’s feast:

When faced with a room full of clutter,

I’ve been known to piously utter,

“Help me to know,

what should stay, what should go?

Oh blessed Teresa of Calcutta!”

In other news: Chris Tollefsen writes brilliantly at Public Discourse today. I’m a shameless Chris T. fan, so no surprise that I like the message. But I don’t get to say it as often as I’d like: This is far and away his best piece ever. That I’ve seen, anyhow. Go take a look.

In places NOT to look: Front Porch Republic, which I subscribe to but very rarely read, because publishing just a snippet for the feed reader is a very effective way to discourage me from reading your work, recently ran a piece about liturgy and limericks. The idea was spot on, unfortunately the chosen limericks were dreadfully lewd. Really? Was that necessary? No it was not.

To which end, perhaps not the most incisive wit, but making the same point as the FPR piece:

The rabbit who traveled by plane

said, “Security can be such a pain.

They opened my baggage,

and out fell my cabbage,

and I had to re-pack it again.”

The point FPR was making? A good genre, delightful in its context, is not necessarily the right genre for the holy liturgy. And another example, same rabbit theme, we have quite the collection growing*:

To my door came a poor little bunny,

who needed to earn some money,

“I’ll cut your grass for a dime,

one bite at a time–“

But in the end, the lawn looked quite funny.

See? Perfectly moral, g-rated limericks. It can be done. And the argument FPR wants to make is stronger when you acknowledge the genre isn’t used soley for smut. Show tunes are wrong at Mass not because Hollywood’s a den of sin, or because the cabaret / jazz / pop sound is always and everywhere associated with immorality. It’s because these types of music are about something else — something that can be beautiful and true and good and inspiring — but it’s something other than the worship of God.

And thus a final contribution for today:

On the feast of Teresa of Calcutta,

this pundit is likely to mutter,

“You’re housed and you’re fed,

but your brain is half dead,

’till you rescue your wit from the gutter.”

Happy Feast Day. Straighten up and fly right, FPR.

*The limerick fest began because, to my genuine shock and surprise, no irony there, my teenage boy does not love his poetry course for literature. I was stunned. A teenager? Not like poetry? Really? It’s all about love, death and self-centered dramatizing . . . that should be just the thing! Certainly was for me at that age. SuperHusband wisely suggested we begin with something a little lighter. And thus I succeeded, not in converting my skeptical teen, but in launching a festival of animal-themed verse among the the two youngest.

I’ll take my victories where I can.

Meanwhile, any poetry recommendations for less-romantic, very modern boys, who mostly read Dr. Boli?

Rabbit Photo: Larry D. Moore [CC BY-SA 3.0 or GFDL], via Wikimedia Commons

Death by Liturgy

Over at New Evangelizers, I pander to sensationalism by talking about the Catholic train-wreck topic, church music. It’s important to make as many people mad as possible, right? Isn’t that why we blog?

***

Or not. Re-reading my post a week after I wrote it, I see that it really is important to read this post first. None of my thoughts at NE make a whole lot of sense unless you’re party to the conversation in progress. Which is maybe not the conversation you think I’m having.

***

And about that column at Circling Jericho, which is the same one I link to in the NE post: Don’t say mean things about it in any combox of mine, because I’ll know you either didn’t read the whole thing, or you’re outing yourself as a violator of rule #1.

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