I feel better.
I may or may not have wiped out every user comment ever on this blog.
Okay, now I feel bad again.
See, this started a year or so ago when I tried to allow Disqus commenting capability for the site, just like a real blog. But Google, the host of Blogger, hates Disqus and wants it dead. So I found the only way to do it was to screw around with the code. Well, apparently Google was onto those tricks, because all I managed to do was screw up the commenting on the site. And I never could quite set it to rights again.
If I knew how to properly code, I'd be making some real money, instead of what I make now, which is like Monopoly money with fewer 0's.
Anyhoo, my pal St(ii)eve alerted me that the site had sunk to a new low last week, preventing any original comments and only allowing comments on comments, which is nuts. So I reset the preferences... and wiped out everything.
Sorry!
On the bright side, you should now be able to comment without having a Google (or Gmail) account. So I do hope you will, and I'll stop messing with code from now on, even if it means we wind up with comments about Free Vigara and Russian women Want to meet american Men now.
If it helps, I went down to Confession yesterday. Not for the sin of comment wiping, but for other problems and sins that have weighed on me. I was really mad at one guy last week, for example, which I've decided was probably not fair. Plus, today is Pentecost, the birthday of the Church, and I wanted to get all shined up for the big day.
Confession, or Reconciliation as the kids call it now, went very well. Of course I went to a different parish than I usually attend, because I'm scared our priests will think less of me -- not that that's true, but it's hard to overcome that feeling (and I know a deacon who does the same thing). The priest who helped me is a very kind man, and I did feel better when I left.
Historically Catholics have gotten razzed for Confession, first because it's so hard and second because it's so easy. "Why do you have to tell some dope in a collar what you did wrong? That's between you and God." Or, "You can kill a guy and say two Hail Marys and you're off the hook?"
I won't address the first razz today, but as for the second: I've never killed a guy so I don't know. Probably a lot more than two Hail Marys. I would think the priest would instruct me to give myself up to the police, among other actions.
The penance in Confession is usually pretty light, although it can feel heavy to the sorrowful heart. But really, what else can we do but pray? If I thought I could have a huge tattoo put on me, or carve a bloody mess of my thigh, and that would not only pay for my sins but prevent me from ever doing them again, I'd be all for it. The Church might approve of that plan. But humans don't work that way. One of the reasons I suspect tattoos are so popular these days is that people sometimes use them as a means of keeping themselves true -- a guy may not actually say I don't trust myself to stay faithful so I will tattoo my wife's name on my neck, but that's what his heart is saying. Then he winds up paying a lot of money for tattoo removal, because we are what we are; if we don't learn to control ourselves we can't trick ourselves into control. But that too is a topic for another time.
Titian's take on Pentecost. This kid's got talent. |
As for today, the comment bar is open, so please feel free to share your comments on that, or comments on comments, or comments on Free Vigara or Nigerian princes or British princes or anything else that catches your fancy. And if the commenting feature still doesn't work, all I can say is, I won't be surprised. And SORRY!!!!! 😢 I'll go carve something in my thigh now.
3 comments:
Shame!
I have nothing to say, really, but after that last paragraph, I kinda feel obligated.
And I appreciate it, raf!
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