Larry Correia on Cooking Poor

The incomparable Larry Correia gives us another treasure of a fisk, this time tearing into an article where a guy tries to argue that fast food is actually more economical for poor people than grocery food

Let’s just say the author of the piece fails to put his case beyond reasonable doubt.

Mr. Correia, in addition to writing fast-paced, well-constructed stories of action and adventure, also frequently gives astute comments on political and economic issues. In so doing, and in apparent contrast to the author of this particular article, he has the advantage of actually having grown up poor. This time he comes to the task of mocking the ignorance of the arrogant armed with his mother, who provides first-hand insights into cooking while poor, as well as astute observations such as “what’s wrong with this asshole?”

Here’s a sampling of what you’re in for:

Article: You swap vegetable oil for olive oil, water for stock or broth, table salt for sea salt, etc.

Correia: My grandma used to run warm water through a chicken and call it chicken soup. I don’t think you’ve got a real strong grasp on what the word “poverty” means.

Read the whole thing.

On that subject, I’ve often noticed that most people of a certain ideological bent, though styling themselves as champions of the poor and downtrodden, often speak of poor people not only as if they’ve never met any, but as if the lower classes were a different species that they’d learned about solely through the official website of the local zoo (“The male hog farmer can hit thirty miles an hour when threatened”). There’s often not only ignorance, but a great deal of ill-disguised contempt (contrast the way, say, H.G. Wells portrayed the lower classes with how G.K. Chesterton did).

To the people who advocate a wholly egalitarian society and would overturn civilization in an attempt to eliminate poverty, the poor are ignorant, benighted children who must be awakened to the reality of their situation by their more educated and more intelligent superiors. To those who believe in tradition, Christianity, and the maintenance of order, even hierarchical orders, the poor are dignified human beings with great virtues and wisdom all of their own, who ought to be aided whenever they need it, but left free to manage their own lives whenever possible. This is one reason I’ve never found collectivist, revolutionary, or leftist ideas in general to be very convincing.

Anyway, read and enjoy the difference between actual knowledge and experience and someone speculating wildly in order to make himself look smarter and more enlightened than he really is.

 

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Cardinal Virtues Begin on Catholic Match

Over the next few weeks, CatholicMatch will be running a series of articles I wrote on the Cardinal Virtues. The Introduction went up today:

When we only have ourselves to consider, we can (and many do) distract ourselves with hedonistic indulgence, with ever more novel and transgressive pleasures, or, failing that, with the bitter delights of resentment towards a world that has ‘cheated’ us and so live what seems a tolerably happy life even without virtue. But when we share our lives with someone else, when we’re responsible for not just our own but another’s happiness, it’s much harder to fake contentment.

The other person generally doesn’t let us get away with it, and, assuming she’s just as bad as we are, we get to experience the abrasive, sandpaper-like results of vice without the anesthetic of self-approval. This is one reason why so many relationships fall apart, and why they often end so acrimoniously.

Basically, to have good relationship requires good people; you can’t live well together if you don’t know how to live well in the first place, any more than you would suddenly be able to draw well just because you’re partnered with someone who doesn’t know how to draw either.

Read it all.

David Warren Gets It

David Warren of Essays in Idleness eloquently says something that has been on my mind for a long time: that most of what we call ‘freedom’ is really a rejection of freedom.

We flatter ourselves, not only by the sins we commit, but by our modern conception of what sin is. We think that we are enacting “some momentous alternative to the good,” when really we are just being thick….

…And we, from pride, compliment ourselves when we have “gamed the system.” Having demeaned not the devil, but God, in our grey “agnosticism,” we praise the ruthless and successful, and sneer at all the humble “losers.”

Our whole conception of freedom has been reduced to the dumb idea that we are “free to choose” in our own – very short-term – interest. And we protest only obstructions to that paltry freedom, including the obstructions of Nature, which made us (to give only one example) male or female.

We are unacknowledged antinomians, and that is why we cannot understand that freedom from sin entails freedom from the law. For if we were free of sin, we could do as we pleased without transgression. But as we are not, we have to be restrained. The real choice is between humility and humiliation…

 

He concludes by pointing out that Rousseau got it exactly backwards: man is not “born free and is everywhere in chains,” but is born in chains and must achieve his freedom, which he does through humility and discipline.

Definitely read the whole thing.

New Years’ Resolutions at Catholic Match

My latest Catholic Match post is all about New Years’ Resolutions (and is largely written to myself):

One way or another, we are afraid to change, afraid to set aside what we’ve carried for so long, even though it’s a burden to us. We may genuinely want to make the change, or at least, we may intellectually acknowledge that the change would be good for us, and on a certain level believe we would be happier afterward. But still we are afraid to go through with the procedure.

Part of this is simply the fear of failure: we worry that we won’t have the courage or the ability to see it through.

We’re worried that if we reach for the big dream or the big goal, we will fall on our faces. If we ask the cute girl out, she may laugh at us. If we try to get into shape, we may find the work too hard. If we try to change careers, we may fail.

But we’re not just afraid of failure: we may be equally afraid of success.

See, the thing about success is that it always carries its own set of problems, pressures, and responsibilities. If we get into shape, we then have to maintain it by constant diet and exercise. If we start dating the cute girl, we then have to work at the relationship with all the hardships and sacrifices that entails.

Read the rest

Christmas Carol at Catholic Match

In my latest CatholicMatch essay, I talk about love and A Christmas Carol:

Coming from the master of the caricature himself, Charles Dickens, the story takes one of Dickens’s typical villains—a loveless, greedy old man—and casts him as the protagonist, while Dickens’s typical heroes—the honest, cheerful young gentleman and the hardworking family man—are relegated to supporting roles. The story then proceeds to invite the audience to sympathize with Scrooge; to ask what made him what he is now and what fate he has to look forward to.

What emerges from the ministrations of the three ghosts, especially the Ghost of Christmas Past, is that what Scrooge truly despises is less Christmas itself than love. Crushed in early life by the double blow of a sister who died young and a romance that failed through his own over-caution, Scrooge has become convinced that love is a lie: whatever people say, sooner or later they will all abandon you in the end. Hence his response to anyone wishing him a Merry Christmas: ‘humbug,’ meaning a trick or pose.

Scrooge sees love in general, and Christmas in particular, as a cheat: an attempt to bilk him by people who, whatever they profess, are really just as selfish as he is. When his nephew informs him that he got married because he fell in love, Scrooge considers that to be the only thing in the world more ridiculous than a Merry Christmas.

Read the rest here

Talking About Depression on Catholic Match

For those who don’t know, I suffer from mild-to-moderate depression, among other things. About a month or so ago it got really bad, and I ended up channelling that experience into the following post, which just went up on CM.

Depression isn’t sadness or feeling down. It’s pain. Raw, emotional pain, like there’s a wound inside you that just won’t heal. And you know it’s never going to heal; it’s just going to keep on throbbing and festering for as long as you live.

Except, it’s worse than that, because along with the pain is a sense of isolation; the sense that you are cut off from the rest of humanity, not for any one cause or defect, but simply because that’s who you are. It’s the sense that you are and always will be totally alone, no matter how many people are around you.

A good description of depression I found online was that, “It’s like drowning, but you can see everyone around you breathing.”

Now, my depression is relatively mild. I generally can manage it enough to get through life, and I’ve never had suicidal thoughts. A lot of people have it far worse. That said, I have found a few strategies to be useful in managing my own depression. And though I’m not an expert in the subject by any stretch, I understand that many other people with far worse conditions have also found them to be helpful.

Read the whole thing here

Really Good Post at First Things

I found this essay at First Things and had to share it. Of the many issues plaguing the contemporary Church, perhaps the strangest is our great fear of rigidity or ‘legalism.’ Really, who looking at Christians in America or Western Europe could honestly think “our biggest problem is that we’re too rigid, too intolerant of sin, and too zealous for the letter of the law.”

The author of this piece explains the mentality behind ‘legalism’ and how helpful it can be in fighting against sin and drawing us to greater heights of holiness.

Who has not reflected on a certain moment of temptation and been impressed by the mastery and expertise with which the trap was laid? A very fine temptation offers not only secrecy, but justification and promises of no harassment from a nagging conscience later on. If Christians would fight temptation, they must have not only the desire to win, but a strategy for obedience that respects the prowess of their enemy.

“I will not gossip at school” is not a rule, I explained to my students, “because it is a Christian obligation.” A monastic rule does not deal in obligations, but in voluntarily laying down your rights. No Christian is allowed to gossip. No Christian is allowed to be slothful. No Christian is allowed to lust. These are not rules a man gives himself, but commands of God, which are not up for debate. But Lucifer is a crafty devil and does not tempt every human in the same way. He tailors temptations. He has learned that men fall prey to certain temptations more readily than women, and vice versa. Healthy men are more tempted by pride, unhealthy more tempted by sloth. Thus, gluttony is prohibited by God, but ice cream and potato chips are not. If a man has no problem eating a modest portion of ice cream and laying the spoon aside, then he needs no rule to aid him in fulfilling God’s command not to be a glutton. If another man cannot eat a bite of ice cream without eating the whole bucket, he needs a rule to help him fight temptation.

Read it all. We need more of this in the Church.