In Memoriam Ronnie James Dio

Ronnie James Dio died on May 16th of stomach cancer.

I listened repeatedly to Black Sabbath's Heaven and Hell during my late teens and early twenties. I have always considered Dio one of, if not the, greatest singers from the classic metal period of the 70s to the 80s. He had a powerful but clear and melodic voice. Dio, especially on that album but on his solo work as well, sang what a friend of mine called "Mystical warrior" metal. The subjects were often magical, e.g Lady Evil, or involving mystical warriors of some type, e.g. Neon Knights, but the themes were universal. Perhaps they were cliched, but they spoke to me of rebellion against authority and the value of thinking for oneself (e.g. Heaven and Hell, "Well if it seems to be real, it's illusion/For every moment of truth, there's confusion in life" and "They'll tell you black is really white/The moon is just a sun at night"), living life to the full (e.g. Die Young, "So live for today/Tomorrow never comes"), and being true to oneself. I think they also spoke to me indefinably of the alienation and loneliness of youth, of attempts to achieve greatness or the impossible or make the most of myself, in the face of an often uncaring or even hostile universe. But it was ok; we could find worth in the struggle itself. At the same time, the music just rocked and helped make all the trials of youth more bearable.

To some it might seem absurd that a rocker who sang "Die Young" (Final chorus: Die young, young! Die young, die young! Die young, die young, young! Die young, die young, die young, die young, die young!!) should live to 67. But when I think back on my own youth, and the part of it the music of Ronnie James Dio played, Dio will always be young to me. Die young, Ronnie, die young.

Specter loses to Sleestak

Pulling myself from my baby-induced torpor this morning, I woke to the bizarre news that 80-year-old spring chicken and (alleged) former Dutch-cleanser smoker Arlen Specter lost the Democratic primary for a Pennsylvania senate seat. I had always been a bit surprised that one of the undead could represent the great state of Pennsylvania (is that anywhere near Transylvania?). But I got over it, and even own a Specter: Senator-for-Life/Undeath bumper sticker. I was more surprised, however, to discover that Specter had lost his primary battle to a Sleestak. I didn't know there were any Sleestaks left after the great Will Ferrell Land of the Lost debacle or that they lived in Pennsylvania. But it wasn't that Specter lost to a Sleestak that shocked me. As Wikipedia explains, Sleestaks can be dangerous. For example, Sleestaks "attempt to capture and sacrifice humans to their god (an unseen beast who dwells in a smoky pit) at every opportunity". No, what's shocking about the news is that neither the undead nor Sleestaks are Republicans!

Louisiana Bill on Guns in Church

I remember from my childhood seeing a bumpersticker that said, "An armed society is a polite society." This was often next to another that said "God said it, I believe it and that settles it." Or "In case of Rapture, this car will be empty." But I would not have expected one that said, "An armed church is a polite church." Or: "An armed congregation gets better sermons." Or: "When guns are outlawed in church, only outlaw churchgoers will have guns."

Talking Points Memo has the story of a bill allowing people to carry concealed weapons in church that passed the Louisiana house.

The bill's sponsor, State Rep. Henry Burns (R), argues that it is necessary for making churches safe. Remember, if George Tiller had been packing heat in church, he could have shot Scott Roeder and saved himself. Or if the other parishioners had been packing, Roeder, and no doubt a few innocent bystanders, could have been cut down in a hail of bullets. No doubt it's the media's obsessions with ideas of these firefights that keeps the media portraying such bills negatively. From the TPM site:

But despite the negative portrayals by "media types," it makes sense "for the good shepherd or the minister to protect his flock," and this bill is "a gift of intervention that's provided to ensure their safety."

Puzzlingly, this bill allows parishioners to carry guns when the justification for the bill is that the minister is supposed to protect the parishioners. I suggest that the bill be modified to allow only ministers, or perhaps deacons if there's a particular need for lots of armed personnel, to carry guns. Some ministers misunderstand their role as representatives of God on earth and think that they should serve humanity with peace and love, but in fact, each must learn to be, to quote From Dusk till Dawn, a "mean, motherf*#king servant of God". They should not just give names (in christening) but should kick ass and take names. They can still bring comfort to those in need, but they also have to bring the pain to those who need it. And when the minister cuts down some maniac--you know, the kind of idiot who would bring a gun to church--he'll be right there to deliver the last rites.

And if you think about it, the pulpit really is the best place to see the whole congregation. I propose that Tennessee pass a law mandating that every church come with a gun emplacement in its pulpit, and each minister be required to man the gun. After all, what could be more important than the safety of the congregation? And we know that "A mighty fortress is our God", and perhaps our churches as well.

All of this suggests one more bumper sticker: An armed minister makes for a polite congregation.

We could be sure there would be fewer people falling asleep in the pews or skipping out early to catch the football game. And the "Amens" and "Alleluias" might be a little more heartfelt. And most importantly, the collection plates would be a lot fuller with an armed minister watching over the flock.