The Assumption

 

Today's the great Feast of the Assumption, which is typically ignored or hated by protestants because they think it idolatry. Here at the Compound we think it a singular devotion appropriate to the Mother of God, Mary Most Holy, the House of Gold. Here:

Deus, qui virginálem aulam beátæ Maríæ, in qua habitáres, elígere dignátus es: da, quǽsumus; ut, sua nos defensióne munitos, jucúndos fácias suæ intéresse festivitáti: Qui vivis et regnas, cum Deo Patre in unitáte Spíritus Sancti, Deus, per ómnia sǽcula sæculórum." 

Roughly translated by AI:

O God, Who chose the virginal dwelling of the blessed Mary to be Your abode, grant, we beseech You, that, defended by her protection, You may make us joyful to participate in her festival. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever.

In other news, it's VJ Day and a friend went to the Cenotaph in London to mark it. Well done him, but he was one of a small handful to honor our forgotten army. Bad show, quondam Great Britain.

Best,

LSP

Patriotism

 

Rightly moved by small town Itasca's war memorial, Wild  commented:

I once heard Chris Matthews pontificating on his tee-vee show trying to explain the xenophobia of the red state hick by saying the little guy loves his country because that's all he's got. Meaning, the more enlightened portion of the populace would not be such fools... Not only did he miss the point, he put his Oldsmobile in reverse and drove off the bridge a second time.

 

he put his Oldsmobile in reverse and drove off the bridge. Dam straight. Patriotism, true love of Patria, begins at home, not with abstract bi-coastal Harvard inspired imagination but with love of where you actually are, the one you're with, your family, village, town, city and on. Chesterton expounds:

Let us suppose we are confronted with a desperate thing, say Pimlico. If we think what is really best for Pimlico we shall find the thread of thought leads to the throne or the mystic and the arbitrary. It is not enough for a man to disapprove of Pimlico: in that case he will merely cut his throat or move to Chelsea. Nor, certainly, is it enough for a man to approve of Pimlico: for then it will remain Pimlico, which would be awful. 

The only way out of it seems to be for somebody to love Pimlico: to love it with a transcendental tie and without any earthly reason. If there arose a man who loved Pimlico, then Pimlico would rise into ivory towers and golden pinnacles; Pimlico would attire herself as a woman does when she is loved. For decoration is not given to hide horrible things: but to decorate things already adorable. A mother does not give her child a blue bow because he is so ugly without it. A lover does not give a girl a necklace to hide her neck. If men loved Pimlico as mothers love children, arbitrarily, because it is theirs, Pimlico in a year or two might be fairer than Florence. 

Some readers will say that this is a mere fantasy. I answer that this is the actual history of mankind. This, as a fact, is how cities did grow great. Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her.

 

GKC and Wild, I'd argue, are right in the X Ring.

Your Patriotic Pal,

LSP