premise

Hey, I know that I’m supposed to know, love and serve God in this world to be happy with him forever in the next.  Topic:  Happiness.  Reality:  in this life?  This valley of tears?  Ain’t gonna happen too often.  And so, here is the place where I will pour out my heart to whomever wishes to listen.  They will be the outpourings of a Catholic dad who for the most part ignored his calling to catechise his children, relying on volunteers in the parish CCD program who could buy books, enlist teachers but never quite insist that the kids take it all seriously.  Their fault?  Hell no.  My fault.  My grievous fault.

My name is, after all, Max Culpa.

This is my opening salvo in what I can only pray will be a series of precision guided cluster bombs aimed at the culture of emptiness and death.  I’m going to make you a late Lenten promise now, y’all…  Bye bye television.  I don’t have the courage to smash it yet, like John Senior recommended in “Restoration of Christian Culture.”  But I can move to the other side of the house if its on, and turn it off when nobody is watching it.

There you have it:  I’m a nut.  To those who haven’t tuned out yet … more to follow.

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