Category: Mith reacts to stuff

The Worst Movie I’ve Ever Seen

April 2nd, 2026

CAUTION: SPOILERS for the movie Calvary (2014).

TW: the movie I’m discussing in this post deals with some extremely uncomfortable topics, such as clerical sex abuse, other terrible things happening to children and animals, suicide/self-harm, marital infidelity, & etc.

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Calvary (2014): while watching it, and for about a day afterwards, I firmly believed that it was the worst, most miserable, most pointless movie that I’d ever seen. I was, in fact, royally pissed that I’d given it an hour and forty-two minutes of my life, an hour and forty-two minutes that I’d never get back.

But upon reflection, I think it’s actually a really good movie.

Not an enjoyable one – I absolutely do not care to watch it again, and I can’t say I “recommend” it – but, a good and important one.

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To be fair, the movie made it clear from the very first line what kind of movie it was going to be. It literally opens with a scene of a dude walking into the confessional and just immediately telling the priest: “I first tasted semen when I was seven years old.” – … oh. okay. This is gonna be that kind of movie. They make it abundantly clear right from the get-go. If you’re not mentally prepared to watch that kind of movie, which I was not, then this is where you realize what the movie’s about, and turn it off. I could have just turned it off.

Why didn’t I? Not for any noble reason. I kept watching because my husband had paid money, actual money, for us to watch it. We virtually never shell out for those rent-to-own movies, because why should we have to pay additional money when we’re already paying for the damn streaming service? But this time, my sweet husband was really eager to try and find a movie that I would love, because it’d been a while since we’d found a show or movie that really did it for me. He’d scoured the internet, grilled ChatGPT relentlessly, researching titles, narrowing down options, and finally found this one, Calvary, from 2014. It looked like something worth paying for.

Based on the descriptions, it ticked a ton of boxes for “things Mith loves in a movie”: slow-paced, character-driven, thought-provoking, human drama, beautiful Irish scenery, Catholic themes. It sounded so promising!

But then… it was just misery upon misery. Just senseless torture from start to finish. As if the creators challenged themselves: “how can we completely ruin the audience’s day?” “How can we take a normal, healthy viewer and turn her into a clinically depressed and anxious one?” “How can we paint as grim a portrait of human nature as humanly possible in an hour and forty-two minutes??”

Like there was one scene where the protagonist, the priest, was just sitting in a pub minding his own business, and some dude comes up to him and is like “hey, I heard this horrible thing one time…” and proceeds to relate the most disturbing anecdote I personally have ever heard; I won’t go into details here, because you don’t need that in your life today, but suffice it to say that it had to do with a three-year-old boy suffering intensely. (As the mother of a three-year-old boy, I lost a lot of sleep that night, and had to do some research into whether such a horrible thing were even medically possible; technically, it is, albeit extremely unlikely.) To which our protagonist, understandably enraged, just kind of pauses and stares, and then replies: “WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT?!” and the dude just kinda grins and shrugs.

That is exactly how I felt watching this whole movie! The protagonist, in this moment, is me, the viewer. I was pissed! Because why?? “Why would you show me that?!”

It didn’t sink in until later that there actually is a reason why the filmmakers decided to inflict such suffering. An important reason. And it goes back, once again, to the very first line of the movie.

This is a movie about sexual abuse of children. – Think about it: why even watch a movie about such an unspeakably horrible thing? Isn’t a movie supposed to be entertaining?

I remember one time back in college, in one of my writing classes – journalism, maybe – a professor assigning us an article to read and analyze, about some horrible thing that had happened to someone: a house fire or something tragic, just a real downer, I can’t remember exactly. And after we read it, the professor asked us: “now, why did we even read this? Why read, or write about, something so horrible? Any ideas?”

No one raised their hand right away, so I slowly, shakily raised mine. (I loathe speaking in public, but absolutely love the thrill of answering a question correctly, so, it always put me in this weird tense emotional state, when I knew the answer to a teacher’s question.) “As an act of service to the victims,” I said, or something like that. “The same reason we read holocaust literature. To share in their suffering. It honors what those people went through.”

Professor was, I remember, very pleased with that answer. (I, as a 36-year-old mom, am still chasing the high of being praised by English teachers and writing professors.) We read/watch stories about victims of horrific suffering as an act of service to those victims – to share in their suffering. Because what else can we meaningfully do for them?

And so, what would a movie about sexual abuse of children even be, if it didn’t inflict senseless suffering upon the viewer? It would be an insult to the real-life victims.

To try and put a cheesy, happy “but everything’s really okay and all people are really well-intentioned on the inside and everyone’s a victim after all so let’s try and have compassion”-type of spin on this story, would be a huge injustice to those whose lives were destroyed.

And yeah, the movie did offer one tiny little slightly-redemptive thread, with the widowed woman on the airplane at the end, and the implied forgiveness in the very last scene where the daughter goes to visit her father’s murderer in prison. But still, it can hardly be said to be “uplifting” or “hopeful.” And that’s correct; it shouldn’t be.

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The depictions of Catholicism bothered me, too. All the priests and even the bishop were made to look like disingenuous flakes who didn’t really believe in any of the actual teachings of the Catholic Church; there was no actual faith. What we saw was a picture of a Church that’s entirely lost sight of its purpose. It appears hopeless. The burning of the church at the end is actually a very apt metaphor.

Which upset me, of course. That is not the Church that I attend on Sundays! My parish priests are not like that. That is not the faith that I’m familiar with! – But, if we look at this through the lens of the suffering of the victims of clerical sex abuse, then yeah, of course this is accurate; this is the picture of the Church that we, as Catholics, have shown them, and by our actions and indifference have convinced them is true.

Which brings me to one of the most interesting moments, that upset me the most and in retrospect is one of the most powerful: before the guy shoots the priest, he denies killing the dog (apparently it was the bartender that did that, I missed the clues), and then he asks the priest “were you sad, when your dog was killed? Did you cry?” Yes, of course he did. “What about when you read in the newspapers about what your fellow priests had done to those kids? Did you cry then?”

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No.

And then he kills him.

It’s just human nature though, isn’t it? The death of one is a tragedy, especially if it’s one of our own; the death (or suffering) of many, especially those we don’t personally know, just becomes a statistic, in our mind. Even if we are genuinely compassionate people and deeply disturbed or even horrified by the news, most of us aren’t likely to weep over it the way we would over the loss of a dear friend. That’s just normal. So our priest did not deserve to die.

But that’s the whole point, isn’t it. Christ didn’t deserve to die. A priest’s job is to live as Christ in the world. Christ willingly took on the punishment for our sins, and voluntarily went to his death, accepting that punishment.

Which is exactly what our protagonist does. He may not be an exemplary Catholic priest or represent the whole faith well, but he does certainly model Christ in this way. He was told that he was going to be killed for the sins of his brethren, and instead of resisting, he accepted. He saw all the sins and ugliness of mankind (that’s the whole plot of the movie: him seeing how ugly mankind is), and chose to die anyway. Christ died for us in spite of our ugliness, but in the case of our protagonist, I think seeing the depth of that ugliness actually made him all the more willing to die; like, it was so far gone, what else could he do?

“A spotless victim” – the dude in the beginning even says, “no point killing a bad priest, I need to kill a good one.” The unblemished lamb must be sacrificed.

An interesting premise, right? And there are all these other parallels to the Passion story: the characters Simon and Veronica, for one, and you could even argue that his daughter, whom he meets up with during the course of this week leading up to his death, is sort of a Mary figure. I didn’t notice all of these until after watching the movie, when I was lying there in bed pissed off and trying not to think about it but unable to think of anything else.

So, I think it accomplished what it set out to do. I think it’s actually a really good movie. Enjoyable? Hell no. Important and well done? Absolutely. Do I recommend it? Again, hell no.

But, also, maybe kind of yes, if you’re mentally prepared and think you can stomach it.

— Although, the children who were abused, did they get to be “mentally prepared”? Did they get to be “ready”? They didn’t get a “TW”, did they? – so, yeah, you know what, on that note, maybe I do recommend it. Maybe we should all watch it and suffer; it’s the least we can do, as fellow humans, isn’t it?
Why I don’t go to AA anymore

March 17th, 2026

First of all, if you’re in a rough spot and thinking about trying AA: do it. You should go. 110%. Go now! Close this tab immediately and go find your nearest meeting. Don’t let my whiny, nitpicky little complaints in this post deter you. Go find out what it’s like for yourself. I firmly believe that everyone, especially folks who struggle with drinking, can benefit greatly from AA, and it really does save lives.

But if you give it your best shot and it still doesn’t help, don’t give up. There are other ways out.

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Here it is: the famous White Chip. I picked up quite a few White Chips during my four years in AA. Even though I didn’t actually get sober in AA, this is one of the last ones I picked up there, and it’s the only one I somehow never managed to lose, so it stays with me to this day, even though I don’t count myself a member of the program anymore. It’s nice, isn’t it? You should go get one of your own!

March is Sobriety Month here at MiTHology (4.0), and so, going along with that theme, I wanna talk for a minute about the program of Alcoholics Anonymous.

You’ve probably heard me mention in previous posts that my sobriety saga began in AA. For some time, I was quite entrenched in it. But, I no longer go to meetings. In the following post I will elaborate on why that is.

Here’s the abridged version of my early sobriety lore. January 2015, at age 25: started going to AA meetings, and fell in love with it: the watertight logical soundness of the philosophy, the black-and-white clarity, the infinitely quotable literature. I went to at least one meeting a day, religiously. Spent four years in the rooms, going through the 12 Steps with two different sponsors, doing it all very “by the book,” achieving a year and change here, almost a year there, and many stretches of a few days or weeks. It didn’t stick though. On paper, I loved AA, but in practice, in my own life, it didn’t seem to work. Early 2019, at age 29: still not sober, fed up with it all, quit meetings and finally just struck out on my own and decided to try it in isolation. Seven years later, here I am, still sober.

So, AA didn’t work for me long-term. But I still love it, and would encourage anyone to try it.

Some people accuse AA of being a cult. That is a ridiculous accusation (and I’m willing to bet that those people probably got their feelings hurt by some sponsor’s brutal honesty). It’s not a cult. Yes, it is religious – which, imo, proves that at least some semblance of religion is necessary for basic human functioning, if the human in question is sane – but it’s about as secular as a religious program can be, so that anyone, even an atheist, can get on board. (If you can’t deal with AA because of the God stuff, then that’s a you problem; it’s not only possible, but encouraged, to make your Higher Power anything at all, as long as it’s not yourself.)

Some people complain that the program is too trite, its literature and signage too loaded with sappy little truisms that might be enlightening if you’re a total brainless doofus who’s never had a single coherent introspective thought in your life, but aren’t substantial or deep enough for an intelligent mind to really grasp onto or be moved by.

But here’s the thing: all those sappy little truisms, are truisms precisely because they are true. So many of the important truths of being a human are really very simple. We love to overcomplicate matters, we love to think that we are special and advanced – but the truth is, no one is too smart for the things they teach you in AA. If you think you are, then again, that’s a you problem.

So yes, I support AA and have great respect for those who thrive in it. Why, then, do I not participate myself?

I guess I’m a hypocrite. I’m guilty of the very thing that I just accused other people of doing: thinking my situation is too complicated, too unique. A big part of AA is Fellowship. I have AVPD, which makes “Fellowship” rather… tricky. It’s hard for me to reap much benefit from all that fellowship. It’s like I have an allergy to it. Some people are allergic to certain medicines; those people have to find alternative treatments.

Maybe if I didn’t have this disorder, I’d have been able to thrive in AA. I really wanted to. Desperately, in fact. If you know me, you know I’ve always had complicated (there it is) feelings about being a misfit; I’m kinda proud of it, but also I’ve always longed to belong somewhere, to find My People. I thought maybe the AAs were My People at last, but alas, the search continues. AVPD makes it really hard to be a participating member of a group like that.

But even if not for the AVPD mucking things up, I’m not sure if I’m as completely enamored of the AA way of thinking as I used to be. There are a few points about it that I take issue with.

(1) Some Of Us Actually Have Self-Awareness

The big one is this. AA’s Twelve Steps presume that you lack self-awareness; that you are lying to yourself about things, that you are avoiding taking responsibility for your own BS.

Some of us have the opposite problem. We know all the things that are wrong with us; trust me, we know them very well. We do take responsibility for our own failings, and already feel bad about them. Constantly. To a fault. AA was not designed with people like us in mind.

And I know that a seasoned AA, reading this, would tell me: “you’re just not being honest with yourself 😇”, which is like their trump card. You can always accuse someone of not being honest with themselves, because they have no way to prove you wrong.

Doing the Fourth and Fifth Steps never revealed anything to me about myself. There was never a breakthrough moment. I didn’t feel that seen or understood. Despite my best efforts, I didn’t feel like I’d bared my soul. It was just kinda tedious and awkward.

I actually regret both my Fifth Steps because, in trying to do everything by the book – “don’t trust your instincts, look where they got you! Trust your sponsor, who’s clearly doing what you’ve proven yourself unable to do!” – in taking this advice and ignoring my intuition, I was led to do some really awkward and unnecessary and even inappropriate Sixth Steps, which to this day I cringe painfully about. I was so desperate to do everything right, and really didn’t know whether to trust myself at all, which is understandable; but I wish I’d trusted my gut just a little.

Believe me! I wish I’d experienced a breakthrough with the Fifth Step. I’d kill to learn the secret, to be able to name the cause of my issues, to identify where the issue has actually been hiding so that I could begin to tackle it. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to figure out what my dark secret was, what I was hiding from myself, what was I being dishonest with myself about, like some repressed trauma or something. Nope. It wasn’t until I got my AVPD diagnosis that I realized that what I’d known intuitively all along was right: the problem was just me, my whole personality. It wasn’t something specific that I could identify and heal from.

“AA works for everyone,” the seasoned AA would reply, “and if you think you’re the exception, then you’re just not being honest with yourself 😇.” Ha!, I wish I weren’t being honest with myself!

I agree that everyone can learn something from AA – I don’t think anyone out there is “too smart” for it. But I do think some people have certain dispositions or conditions that make them less-promising candidates for the AA treatment. And having a high degree of self-awareness, or an untreatable disorder that affects one’s ability to be social, are both examples of such dispositions.

Which is not to say that you shouldn’t try AA, if you’re considering it. You absolutely should. Go and try it for yourself, but if it doesn’t work, don’t give up.

(2) Sponsors Aren’t Priests

My second beef with AA is this: sponsors are not priests. “Just do whatever your sponsor says” is not always good advice! These people don’t have psych degrees, they didn’t go to seminary – they are not necessarily equipped to be spiritual advisors or to give good advice.

I know, I know – the sponsor isn’t meant to be infallible, and if you treat them that way, that’s a you problem (all problems are you problems, in AA; that’s not hyperbole, that’s doctrine). The sponsor is just supposed to be a mentor, and their advice is supposed to be a simple “here’s what I would do in your shoes to help you stay sober.” I get that. But I guess as a Catholic, it strikes me as problematic to see folks in need relying on some other random alcoholic to hear their Fifth Step rather than a Priest in the Sacrament of Penance. This is where the program’s lack of actual religion causes it to fall short.

And yeah, I know, the very fact that the sponsor isn’t a professional nor a cleric is part of the magic. They’re just another recovering alcoholic with no particular obligation to you, not getting a paycheck, just doing this for the sheer love of the game. I understand that, in theory. But I still think you’re better off with the Sacraments, which are much safer, and have much more real effects on your soul.

(To be fair, I don’t really have any IRL friends, either, and still kinda struggle to understand the hows and whys of IRL human friendship; so this might just be a me problem.)

(3) Some Of Us Need To Touch Grass

My third and final beef with AA, and the main reason I don’t go back anymore, is really a personal one – not a philosophical issue, just a subjective experience.

For me personally, remaining steeped in the atmosphere of early sobriety, spending all those hours talking about booze and hearing about booze, making it such a huge part of my consciousness, is actually unhelpful. I had to move on. I had to touch grass.

Some people really need to stay in the program. For those people, their addiction was all they had, and so their life is just a vacuum without it, they have zero other passions or hobbies or interests. That’s not meant to be disparaging. It’s just a different type of addicted person. A person like that needs to stay entrenched in AA, needs to make sobriety their whole life and pastime, because the only alternative is going back to drinking. I get that. I feel for those people. I support them. I hope they never miss a single meeting.

However, I am fortunate to be someone who – even though booze was my #1 and held a special place in my heart that nothing else ever will occupy – cares about and enjoys other things as well, such as: my family, my imaginary inner world, reading, writing, art, my actual religion, watching TV, & etc. So I was able to kind of build a life and identity using those, when I got sober. Some people don’t have those to work with. It doesn’t make them more valid or their addiction more deserving of treatment. It’s just a different manifestation of the same disease.

Which is why I only started to get better once I stepped out of those rooms. But, still, some of the stuff I leaned in there was really invaluable; I got some great advice, met some great people, and can honestly say that no one there was ever cruel or shady or judgmental towards me – people were completely genuine and sincere. The magic is real. It just doesn’t work on me.

I kinda wish it did. I’d love to go back, because I miss it, the routine, the warmth, the familiar smells of coffee and basement. But there’d be no point. I’m not going to do the Steps again nor get a sponsor again — why would I?

And even though they’d welcome me back, and embrace me as one of their own, I know I’m unfortunately really not.

“If you think you’re not one of us, you’re just not being honest with yourself 😇,” they’d surely reply.

To which I’d respond: being sober in AA doesn’t make you omniscient. AA is not the Church. It’s just a bunch of people, and not all people have the same brain. But you know what?, if it helps you stay sober to believe that, that I, and literally anyone who’s ever been addicted to alcohol, “need” to be in AA, that I’d be better off there and that I’m doomed to relapse if I don’t go back to a meeting – then go ahead. You do you. I don’t want to prove you wrong if it means puttimg a crack in your support structure. I don’t need to win this argument at the possible price of your life.

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So yeah. If you’re newly sober or thinking about getting sober and reading this, and starting to doubt whether AA will work for you, I beg you, I am literally begging you, to go try it. This is just my stupid little blog where I come to process my stupid little feewings; and, after all, there’s a chance I’m not being honest with myself, and lack the self-awareness to see that! (😵‍💫) In any case, you really need to go check it out for yourself. My email address’s in the “about” page if you wanna talk about it (or anything else).
Another stupid little layperson’s thoughts on the upcoming episcopal consecrations

February 19th, 2026

I hesitate to even post this, because the world really doesn’t need another uneducated layperson’s opinion, on matters of Church politics or anything else. There are too many stupid opinions out there, all day every day, and everyone seems to think that theirs matters. I’ve seen so many garbage opinions on this topic spouted all over social media lately, which is what prompted me to word-vomit this out in the first place. As a response. I should probably just keep my mouth shut. No one needs Mith to defend their cause, and I’m probably just an embarrassment to those I’m trying to defend: a fat little unkempt shih tzu trying to bark and growl like it thinks it’s a big fierce guard dog. And you just look at it like “is that even a dog?”

I hesitate also because of how incredibly unqualified I am to talk about such subjects. I’m not an expert by any means. I’m sure some of you actually-smart Catholic readers will see this and just laugh and go “yeah, you should’ve hesitated more.”

But, maybe it’ll reach someone who likes it.

When I was discerning all of this back in 2024, I scoured the internet for concise, dumbed-down answers to philosophical questions that I had, that made the answers digestible. I wasn’t looking for a million citations from lengthy, lofty Vatican documents that I didn’t particularly want to read. But, I also didn’t need another oversimplified “just obey Rome”-type message. I needed to actually understand the philosophy in a way that made sense, in a way that I could verbalize myself. I needed personalized answers for a simple but curious person.

So, the following shall be my response to the haters, and shall attempt to be the sort of post that I was looking for in 2024.

And maybe just maybe there are other people out there looking for similar content, now that the recent news has put the SSPX back in the spotlight and gotten everyone talking about them again.

And besides, this is my stupid little blog, and what else is it for if not for sharing my random unnecessary opinions.

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The news of the upcoming SSPX episcopal consecrations: everyone on Catholic Internet has been talking about it, so I guess I’ll go ahead and throw my opinion out there too.

Which, I must emphasize, will be just that: an opinion. Mith is not qualified to speak knowledgeably about things like canon law, Church politics, or the liturgy wars. I am not a commentator. I’m just a silly little layperson who’s not even a very good Catholic, not very well-read, and has only been attending the TLM for sixteen months. This post will simply contain my reaction, my little musings, my own little personal experience/ opinion/ feelings about the matter. If you’re looking for useful, objective information, please seek elsewhere.

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For me, it’s been funny and sad to see Catholic Internet all aboil with hatred toward the SSPX. All these voices suddenly crying out “schism! schism!!” and saying the most hateful, ignorant things, when they clearly haven’t done their research, nor paused to consider the issue from a logical angle, nor had a single second’s actual experience with the real-life SSPX.

If this had happened two to three years ago, I’d surely be all upset about it like all these other Catholics online. “How dare they!” “Disobedient!” “They think they’re more Catholic than the Pope!” Yes, I have been in their position before, making these same weak accusations – refusing to understand, refusing to think, because I’d been told I wasn’t allowed to.

Which is why I just kind of roll my eyes and sigh at such nonsense now.

In retrospect it’s truly embarrassing how much time I wasted waffling and fence-sitting. I wanted to go to the SSPX Mass, wanted to live a Traditional Catholic life, but I was afraid to, because of the way the modern Church treats Tradition. Like some sort of taboo. Don’t even mention it in polite company. Did you know they’ll ban you from r/Catholic if you dare to utter a single non-negative word about the Society?

“Any average Protestant on the street has a better shot at getting into Heaven than a Bishop of the SSPX,” someone Tweeted.

“They’re not Catholic,” someone told me, interrupting me mid-sentence when I dared to casually mention the nearby SSPX chapel in conversation.

And, when I broke the news to an acquaintance from my former, NO parish that I was defecting for the SSPX, she was horrified – literally aghast. “Do not trust them,” she urged me.

Normally I’m super impressionable – a real doormat. So you’d think that that interaction would have swayed me. But luckily, I’d already done my research, prayed about it relentlessly, and at last made up my mind, by that point.

Catholics are fed so much BS about the SSPX. And told not to question it. Shhh — don’t even talk about them! The mainstream Church literally treats Protestants and Orthodox as their “brothers in Christ” – but the SSPX? Who are fully Catholic, have apostolic succession, teach the fullness of the faith, and btw have the “official” faculties of confessions and marriages (which, how can you do those if you’re not a Catholic priest?!)? Oh no. We don’t talk about them.

It’s really a tragedy.

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Back when I was debating whether or not to go the SSPX way, I found that all my painstaking research and persistent prayer left me at an impasse. I could understand the argument from both sides; both presented compelling cases. It became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to logic my way out of this one. I needed some real-world experience.

So I went out on a very scary limb, figuring that, if it were a mistake, God would have mercy on me because the sense of being called there would not relent, and I was earnestly trying to discern His will – and visited.

I wish more people would do that. I wish more of these NOrmie Catholics would just take some time to talk to a SSPX Priest and ask him questions. To see what it’s actually like.

But, to be fair, they’re taught not to.

They think we’re all crazy, Pope-hating sedevacantists, over here at the SSPX chapels. They think we think we’re the only real Catholics. None of that is true. Actually, I’ve never heard a single word of hostility or vitriol or blame or even dislike from any of the Society priests about the NO world. On the contrary, they speak of the modern Church with genuine compassion and sorrow. With fatherly concern for a flock led astray. I can’t say the same for the Novus Ordites.

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I’m not going to go into all the reasons here why the SSPX is right about what they are doing. If you’re interested, you can do the research. But I’d advise reading about it from more than one angle. Don’t just read what the “popesplainers” (as they are humorously called) have to say. Listen to SSPX sermons, listen to their podcast. Think about it. You have to be able to think with your brain and not your emotions.

People are so angry. They make such assumptions about the mindset/thought process of those who support the Society.

But I think what’s really angering these haters, what’s really getting under their skin, is that they actually love Tradition. (How could you not?) They love what the SSPX is doing, and would love to go to their Masses and support them – but they just don’t feel like they can, because that’s what the NO world tells you – and so they get bitter. And it angers them when they see other people doing what they themselves wish they could do but are afraid to. So they start screaming “no! You’re not allowed to do that!”

It’s the exact same phenomenon as the one I pointed out in a recent post on a different topic: there’s a certain sect of working moms who love to hate on those stay-at-home moms who’ve chosen to sacrifice financial comfort in order to stay home with their kids. “Must be nice! To have the luxury!”, they snipe and gripe. “Stop telling the rest of us it’s okay to quit our jobs and stay home, because I simply can’t do it! I’d be too poor!” When in fact they could do it but simply don’t want to be a little uncomfortable, and so they’re mad at those women who prove that it can be done. It’s easier to get mad and tell yourself it’s impossible, than to do the hard thing.

Which is why these sacrificing stay-home moms live rent-free in these bitter working moms’ heads. The same way the SSPX lives rent-free in the heads of so many of these “blind obedience” NO Catholics. They’d love a return to Tradition – who wouldn’t! Most devout Catholics, no matter where they attend Mass, long to see the Church return to her former beauty and glory, and love the rigor of Tradition, and long for exactly what the SSPX offers. But they are deluded and believe they can’t go. And so they’re mad.

Which is why they’re out here spewing all this hateful content online right now. .

I’ll tell you a bit about my thought process, in case you’re interested. Keeping in mind that I’m not a historian, or an expert, or even that well-read, but just a slow little layperson who needs concepts dumbed down in very plain terms: these are some dumbed-down versions of the arguments that swayed me in favor of the SSPX.

Obedience is the big question here. What is meant by obedience? “As Catholics we must be obedient to Rome. That’s what unites us.” True.

But blind obedience is not the way. Yes, we must be obedient to Rome. But, just hypothetically now, what do you do if Rome becomes corrupted?

This was one of the things that finally swayed me, when I thought about it. How bad would it have to get? How much more modern and permissive would the modern Church have to get before I would say “okay, this isn’t right”?

Looking at the history, I saw the progression; I thought ahead to the future, centuries from now, when history books will probably tell of how, in the late 1900s-early 2000s, the Church endured a tragic crisis (foreseen by multiple saints), and it was only thanks to one brave Archbishop that the fullness of her teachings and liturgy were preserved. Which side of history would I want to be on? The side that just went along with it, or the minority that saw what was happening and did something about it, sooner rather than later? We all like to think we’d be the “good ones” in history: we’d be the abolitionists, the Underground Railroad custodians; we’d have sheltered Anne Frank. I decided to do something brave and trust my intuition – to try and land on what I believe is the right side of history. I saw all these other nice, normal families doing it, and that encouraged me. You can do it too. More and more of us are doing it.

“But Mith, roma locuta, causa finita est and all that!” I haven’t read all of the Archbishop’s writings, but I do know that he differentiated between physical, actual Rome and Eternal Rome. Which might strike you as absurd at first, as it did me, but think about it: you have to acknowledge the difference. Because if “Rome” simply equals “whoever’s currently in power,” then what kind of religion do we have? The people who are in power are there because they represent something eternal, something greater than them. It’s silly to think that we answer to the Pope because of who he is as an individual. No. We answer to him because he represents the eternal Catholic Faith.

So yes. Roma locuta, causa indeed finita est. Is my take.

“But Mith, ‘where Peter is, there is the Church!’” – The Society is not not where Peter is. They’re not in schism. “But they were excommunicated” – one: the excommunication was lifted years ago, and two: even if they’re excommunicated, if the source of the excommunication is corrupted, then maybe the “excommunication” should be taken with a grain of salt. And three: what even is an excommunication? It’s a severing of a connection, isn’t it? The SSPX does not see themselves as severed from Rome. They pray for the Pope and acknowledge his authority and supremacy. They cooperate with diocesan priests whenever necessary. They are still members of the family. Just members who dare to dissent.

If an American citizen complains about corruption in the government and tries to do something about it, do they stop being an American citizen?

Or, think of a nuclear family – a father, mother, and kids – and imagine the parents become mentally ill. They start telling the kids to do crazy things, and stop enforcing rules to protect the kids’ safety. If one of the older brothers takes the younger siblings under his wing and takes it upon himself to enforce rules and teach proper discipline the way he grew up with it before his parents fell ill – isn’t that very noble of him? Wouldn’t that be wise and loving of him, even if some of his other siblings accuse him of being disobedient to their father? The son in this case is not abandoning his family. He’s not denying that his mom and dad are his parents. He’s not even moving out of the house. He’s just trying to help his family, and to preserve the actual family values, lest they be forgotten – because if those values are forgotten, then what even is the family anymore? Just a group of people.

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The news of the consecrations is encouraging and exciting, because new Bishops are needed — but also troubling. So far, there haven’t been any conclusive results or decisions from the Superior General’s correspondence with the Vatican officials. But, take note: the SSPX is seeking permission to do these consecrations. Because they are Roman Catholic, they are part of the Church, and answer to the Pope.

“But that’s meaningless, because they’re just going to go through with it anyway even if Rome says no!” – true, because if that happened, it would constitute a state of emergency, and canon law permits such consecrations in a state of emergency. It is troubling because no one wants it to come to that. No one wants to disobey the Pope. No one wants this to lead to an excommunication.

It’s like calling 911 when there’s a masked guy with a gun at your door trying to break in. You beg them to send the cops. “No, we can’t do that right now.” Or maybe they’re dawdling and don’t arrive fast enough. Do you just lay down and die, then, or do you defend your home, even if it means doing something technically illegal? State of emergency.

No one wants to get excommunicated. But the Society exists to preserve the Faith. The eternal Faith must come first, before obedience to mortal, physical structure. Objective morality exists, and these structures (Church, the law) are in place to represent that. But if they fail to represent it, then, well, a certain kind of “disobedience” is not only permissible, but required.

“Oh, so now Mith knows the Catholic Faith better than the Pope?!” Lol please. If the Pope told you the sky was green, would you believe it to be so? Because that’s not how this is supposed to work. I’m just using my little God-given senses and faculties of reason to determine that something’s not being done quite right in the modern Church, and my family’s salvation (which is my priority here) is better attended to by the SSPX.

“But bearing with the things we don’t like in the modern Church is the cross we have to bear for obedience! Jesus Himself taught us that sometimes obedience doesn’t feel good, but we still have to obey!” Is the state of the NO world something that we should tolerate? What if the Church told you to murder someone? Even if you didn’t want to do it, would that be your cross to bear for the sake of obedience? Doesn’t feel quite right, does it. That’s because the Church can’t tell us to do something that’s morally wrong. And attending an irreverent, disrespectful liturgy is morally problematic. As is raising our kids in a church that doesn’t offer them the fullness of the faith. That’s harming our kids.

We, the faithful, are actually entitled to good teaching and reverent liturgy. Just as a mother owes her child nourishment and instruction because of the nature of their relationship, our Holy Mother Church owes us good formation and undiluted sacraments.

“Obedience” is not what they’re making it out to be. “Obedience” doesn’t mean blind obedience to whoever’s in power. You don’t have to “know more than the Pope” to see that some things have gone wrong. It’s really very simple, if you think about it. It’s really just common sense, imo.

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So yes. There’s a chance the consecrations will result in a formal or de facto excommunication. Even I can see that. Will that change things for me, if it happens?

It’d be sad, but no. It’d be sad because it would show just how far gone the modern Church is. But in a way, it’d be nice to finally have some clarity. All this murky “canonically irregular, “partial communion” (made-up term btw) business, is really confusing and off-putting. If an excommunication happens, at least we’ll all be able to see what’s really going on, in black and white. If the mainstream Church excommunicates the SSPX, I’ll be very sad, but I’ll still be sticking with the latter.

And I don’t imagine that much would really change, in practice. The Pope would still be the Pope. And I would still love him as my Holy Father. It’s not like the Society would elect a new Pope, because they literally don’t have that power (and they are obedient to Eternal Rome, so they follow such rules). There’s only one Pope. And they would continue to pray for him and see him as their Supreme Pontiff and Holy Father. They’d just have to wait and keep surviving as they’ve been doing, until Rome heals and embraces them fully again. Which will happen one day.

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So that’s just my little thoughts. I don’t reply to tweets or IG/FB comments, nor really post on social media at all, so I just needed a chance to respond to all these ignorant commenters, to scream into the void a bit, after reading so much hatred online lately. I am praying for the consecrations and everyone involved, and for the healing of the Church. I hope you are too.
A Defense of “PAW Patrol”

January 21st, 2026

PAW Patrol: parents love to hate it. It’s the worst! It’s so ubiquitous. It’s so annoying. It’s so bad for kids’ brains. I used to feel this way, too.

Since I’m apparently now in the business of defending TV shows that other people hate, allow me, if you will, to make my little case here for PAW Patrol.

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My kids were never supposed to watch PAW Patrol. As a new mom, I found it revolting. I never wanted them to see it, or even know about it. Nowadays, I love it; I’m a big fan, and we watch it together on the regular.

So what happened?

It started with string cheese. At their grandparents’ house, my kids were given string cheese sticks that had images of PAW Patrol characters printed on the packaging. Thus, they began to learn the different characters’ names and colors. Soon they could identify them on sight when they saw them in other locations. Putting cartoon characters on food packaging really is a genius marketing move.

My kids’ intensifying fascination with these characters from the packaging on string cheese (and diapers, and graham crackers, and kids’ shampoo, and pretty much everything else for kids), led to me at last, begrudgingly, allowing them to view clips of the show in our own home. Then, when I was in the first trimester with my fourth baby, and sick 24/7, I finally gave up the fight and just let them binge-watch full episodes on Paramount+. Just all day long: PAW Patrol!, PAW Patrol!, be there on the double!

But I hated it. I hated the lazy animation style, the skull-piercing voices, the brainless music, the sheer idiotic absurdity of the plotlines, and above all, the way my kids were so obsessed with it. Just ask the internet: they say that PAW Patrol was basically lab-created (that’s laboratory, not Labrador retriever) to hypnotize your kids and get them addicted.

What garbage. I resented it, but permitted it anyway because for a couple months there I was too sick to do much of anything at all, and by the time the sickness faded around week 20, my kids were hopelessly hooked.

As time went on, I occasionally tried to banish PAW Patrol from our house, thinking it was in my kids’ best interest. I’d pack up all the plastic toy pups and their plastic vehicles, the plastic cups and plastic placemats and all the plastic merch and chuck it in a plastic trash bag and hide it in the basement because I didn’t have the heart to just throw it away entirely.

“From now on, we will only watch wholesome shows like Little Bear and Puffin Rock,” I told myself firmly. “If I just never show them PAW Patrol again, never buy any more PAW Patrol shit and never breathe another word about it from this moment forth, they have to forget about it at some point, right? From this day on, we will be a proper old-fashioned Catholic family, cleansed of the stains of all that worldly garbage!”

Inevitably, the merch would come back out several weeks or days later, because my kids asked for it and I am a softie.

Recently, I got sick of this cycle, and decided to just let go ahead and let them have their beloved PAW Patrol.

Why? What happened?

I think the biggest factor in this decision was my realization that my oldest is about to turn six, and pretty soon, she won’t even be interested in PAW Patrol anymore. She will outgrow it, probably within a year or so. My nephew, who’s only nine months older than she is, is already over PAW Patrol, and on to more mature six-year-old things. Those days will soon be upon me. And it’s actually heartbreaking: the passage of time, how quickly your baby grows up. I’ll wake up tomorrow and none of my kids will care about PAW Patrol anymore. And I’ll look back on these days and wish for just one more minute of their precious innocence.

Because that’s what PAW Patrol is. It’s innocent. I mean, come on: it’s a show about superhero puppies. If you actually sit down and watch it, you will see just how innocent it is. The music, the animation, the way the characters dress and talk: it’s all very childish, very clean and simple. It lacks the glossy flashiness and Hollywoodesque aspirations toward tweenhood that you see in something like Super Kitties (which I abhor, and nipped that obsession in the bud without a trace of guilt) or KPop Demon Hunters. It also lacks the purely hypnotic, mindless, brain-numbing singsong quality of something like Cocomelon. PAW Patrol is just simple, colorful, back-to-basics animation with childlike stories and dialogue. There’s nothing sinister, nothing suggestive of anything more mature, and the “jokes” are painfully simple; that’s exactly why kids age out of it around six or seven.

And the stories in PAW Patrol are all about helping people. That’s the whole gist of the show: cooperation is fun, you can do hard things, and helping others is cool. Literally what is the issue?

“Lab created to hijack your kids’ brains and stupefy them” – blah blah, enough with that. Sure, it’s not high quality edifying stuff, but PAW Patrol isn’t going to make good kids bad. Like most worldly pleasures, PAW Patrol can be enjoyed responsibly, in moderation. My kids are not iPad kids. They have never owned a tablet. They love reading books, drawing, playing pretend, and going outside; they’re decently well-behaved; and all of them are highly intellectually advanced for their ages. And they also happen to love PAW Patrol.

So, I’m not convinced that all of the paranoia about PAW Patrol “ruining our kids’ minds” isn’t just a bunch of tin foil hat-type blathering. I really think people love to hate things that are popular. Back in the days when novels were a recent innovation, people thought those were brainrot and a waste of time, too. Probably thirty years from now, PAW Patrol will be considered vintage and cool and “crunchy” the way Little Bear is now. Hating PAW Patrol is just as much a trend as the show itself; change my mind. Being rational: there’s simply not sufficient reason to banish PAW Patrol entirely.

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Admittedly though, my change of heart about PAW Patrol was not entirely rational. My decision was based, about 75, maybe 80 percent, on emotion.

For one, there was the aforementioned realization that my sweet babies are growing up quickly, and all too soon will no longer care a whit about PAW Patrol. You ever feel homesick for a place while you’re already there?

And for two: after a year to eighteen months or so of PAW Patrol being part of our lives, it’s gradually become, well, just that: a part of our lives. It’s weird. In the beginning, PAW Patrol felt to me like this malignant force that encroached upon my family from without. But now, for better or for worse, it has become part of us, woven into the fabric of our family life. And I like our life. The citizens of Adventure Bay have become good friends of mine, by now.

“You’re just being a lazy mom, Mith! If you really cared about your kids’ well-being, you wouldn’t show them this filth at all, much less let it infiltrate your lives to such an extent.”

Ah, the “lazy mom” accusation. Yes, this one gets thrown at moms on the internet all the time, whenever they have the audacity to try to make life easier. I honestly think people just hate moms and want them to suffer (and sometimes it’s moms who hate on other moms in this way, which imo just betrays a very-thinly-veiled self-loathing and a deep frustration with their own lives). As moms, we are, believe it or not, actually allowed to choose the easy way sometimes. Like most things, it’s not black and white (“giving screen time at all means you’re a failure!” “You don’t love your kids if you don’t cook them three meals a day from scratch!” etc.); it’s a matter of moderation. “Lazy” because sometimes I want my kids to sit still and be quiet so that I can give one of them a bath, or clean the house or, God forbid, sit down and drink a cup of coffee or something? Sure, why not. Call me lazy if you want. My kids are happy, healthy, intelligent, and loved; I’m solo parenting and homeschooling them (four five and under) on a tight budget, with no village around me, but, sure, go off I guess.

Not trying to say that I have it harder than anyone else. Parenting is hard, no matter what your situation. This is not the suffering olympics. PAW Patrol makes things a bit more fun and easy at times. And as far as I can see it does no harm. So try again to explain to me why it’s so bad.

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Finally, just for fun: being a Catholic mom and a PAW Patrol mom, I’ve taken the liberty of assigning a patron saint to each of the pups:

Chase: St. Michael the Archangel, the Prince of the Heavenly Host and defender against demons.

Skye: St. Joseph of Cupertino, obviously: famous for levitating during prayer.

Rocky: St. Joseph the Worker: quiet, responsible, happy to be in the background, good with tools.

Marshall: St. Lawrence, who was a comedian and, like Marshall, associated with fire.

Zuma: St. Brendan the Navigator, famous for sailing across oceans and exploring the world.

Rubble: St. Thomas Aquinas: bit of a counterintuitive choice, maybe, but Aquinas was a chunky fellow who was nicknamed “the dumb ox,” so I think he might actually identify with Rubble the most out of all the pups.

Is PAW Patrol a good Catholic show? No, of course not. It’s very secular. In their holiday special, they even said some cheesy line like “the real meaning of Christmas is giving!” – thankfully, my five-year-old heard that and exclaimed “no, the real meaning of Christmas is the Birth of Jesus!” Which led to a good conversation about how we need to share the Gospel with those who haven’t heard it. See? It may not be a good Catholic show, per se, but it can be part of a good Catholic life.

That’s the thing. It’s not good. It’s not bad. It’s just (if you’re a toddler parent in 2026 who doesn’t literally live under a rock) a part of life.

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I imagine one day when I’m old and gray and an empty nester, I’ll be sitting alone in my clean, quiet living room, reminiscing, and I’ll look around at the emptiness and lack of clutter and toys, and sigh, and pick up the remote with my withered, liver-spotted hand and switch on some PAW Patrol, just for old time’s sake, and probably sing softly along with the songs, PAW Patrol!, PAW Patrol!, in my creaky lonely old-lady voice: be there on the double! And I like to think that I won’t have too many regrets.
“Run Away” (2026): a Defense, & a Complaint

January 16th, 2026

Caution: Spoilers for the limited series “Run Away” (2026) on Netflix, which is based on the book by Harlan Coben, so this probably contains spoilers for the book too.

The Defense

Wait, so I just Googled and saw that apparently people are hating on this show? What, why? FFS. Redditors really are the most insufferable people. They hate everything, including each other and everyone else. Every time I decide to casually check something on Reddit, I always leave feeling like I need a shower. All of the criticisms in this discussion – “this was stupid,” “that was stupid” – I must really be incredibly stupid indeed, then, because I loved this show.

Okay, I will admit that it did overuse the “dramatic musical sting” effect, especially in that one scene. And I will also give them this, that it did seem totally out of the blue how Simon randomly remembered his wife’s old modelling photos at the end of the show like that; that seemed to come out of the blue. Maybe the circumstances leading to his decision were explained better in the book.

As for the Reddit remarks about gun ownership in the UK and the availability of same-day DNA test results for significantly less than 10K, I can’t comment on that, other than to say that, for me as an ignorant American, it was convincing enough. I once had a writing professor tell me that fiction writers don’t necessarily have to get everything 100% realistic and accurate – they just have to be confident and sell it. And IMO, Harlan Coben really sold it.

One other minor complaint that my husband and I had was: why is the wife in a medically-induced coma for weeks after a shot to the shoulder, when Simon suffered pretty much the same exact injury and was out and about just a few days later? We kept wondering why she was still comatose, lol. Maybe this, too, is explained better in the book.

And now that they mention it, I guess it was pretty silly that Paige was just in rehab the whole time. Like really? While a missing persons report was active? And while her dad was running around getting in all kinds of trouble with drug dealers and such? The wife and her sister knew all along but were keeping it a secret, even through all of this high-stakes drama, simply because Paige has asked them to because she didn’t want Dad to be disappointed? That was the whole reason? 🤔 Imagine how Ingrid will feel when she finds out her husband blew 70k on this while she was asleep. 70k! In retrospect, the rehab thing just didn’t feel like an expensive enough secret.

However: none of these issues took away from my enjoyment of the show while I was watching it. I guess that makes me an idiot. Oh well, that’s not news to any of us around here, is it?

I agree that glaring plot holes do ruin the effect of a story… but I guess in the case of “Run Away,” the holes were, well, not exactly “small/minor” enough, but “sold” well enough that they just didn’t bother me. They blended in. It didn’t feel lazy. It’s like how some people pay good money for ripped jeans. Sure they have holes, but it works!, they look cool!

Like a great pair of ripped jeans, this show, as entertainment, is a 10/10 from me. It’s everything I needed it to be. The storytelling, the pacing, the characters, the twists – no complaints there. Totally engrossing. Just peak escapism.

I’ve never read any Harlan Coben books before, but now I think I probably will. As you know if you read this blog, I am very much in awe of mystery/suspense writers. They’re like sorcerers to me. The ability to captivate a reader/viewer like that, and hold their whole attention span and their emotions in the palm of your hand — to be so wildly entertaining that you can get away with a plot hole or two: it’s a superpower. I’d love to know how they do that.

This was, in some ways, a pretty standard crime thriller – formulaic, some even said – but there were a few things it did that kind of flipped the stereotype on its head, which particularly delighted me:

1, When Elena’s “tech person,” the computer whiz who can hack into anywhere and find out anything online, is her little 75 year old MIL, Lou.

2, Isaac + Ruby’s relationship. I know all the Reddit critics called it “unnecessary,” and maybe it was, but if we always boil a story down to just what’s “necessary,” what are we left with? A single Tweet? A 20-second reel? Why even read (or watch), if you only want what’s “necessary”? Come on now. Imo the love story added something of value. And the thing I really liked about it was, for once we see a very fit, conventionally-attractive man completely enamored of a heavyset woman with a sharp wit and sense of humor. And she seems to wield the power in their relationship: he wants to go public with it, she wants to keep it a secret because of work. Not to mention the way she objectifies him for fun, lol. I’m very much here for this role reversal (and their happy ending).

3, Professor VdB actually being a good guy. It would have been so easy to include another tropey, creepy male professor. I’m kinda glad they showed that it was actually just rumors perpetuated by thirsty female students.

Overall, 10/10 entertainment. I will say though that I had just one serious complaint about the plot. And it is more of a philosophical disagreement than a technical criticism.

The Complaint

When Elena finds out that her dead husband’s secret child was the product of not an affair, but of his so generously donating his sperm to a female friend who wanted to have a baby… and never telling his wife about it… and this exonerates him, in her eyes? She can now forgive him? 🤮 As I told my husband, I would actually much rather he have some passionate affair with another woman than deliberately conceive a child with another woman. Because the latter is so much more serious! Passion is fleeting and meaningless, but the human soul, joined to the body at the moment of conception, is eternal. And the fact that Joel did this knowing that Elena, his wife, couldn’t conceive a child – what a slap in the face! If I were Elena, I wouldn’t have gone and gotten myself killed because I’d be too busy trying to get a posthumous divorce, and/or drawing dicks all over Joel’s headstone with a Sharpie.

For me as a Catholic, this whole brushing off of the seriousness of Joel’s offense as “a selfless favor for a friend,” is just a glaring symptom of our culture’s distorted views on human reproduction. Children are not commodities that you can just decide to piece together at your convenience just because you want one. (Ironic, that this gross offense is cast in such a positive light in this show, while in the same breath the show decries illegal adoptions and the selling of babies, when these two are basically the same thing.) Children are the fruit of the singular, sacred love between husband + wife, co-created by God and entrusted by Him to those parents. When people try to play God with “reproductive technology,” surrogacy, sperm donation, what have you, it distorts that design. (And all kinds of bad things happen: surrogate mothers forced to undergo abortion if the “customer” changes their mind; wrong embryos implanted in the wrong mothers; not to mention the emotional/psychological distress and confusion that comes from being cut off from your biological relations (I mean just look at the whole plot of this show!); & et cetera.) Your DNA, your lineage, isn’t just something you should give away to a buddy or sell to someone who wants to buy it. Children are not products to be bought and sold.

In Conclusion

But, to step off my little soapbox, that’s the only thing that pissed me off about the show. Everything else is excusable, even Elena stupidly hopping in that car with Dee Dee, which was out of character for her. Super entertaining show, tight twists and turns, suspenseful as heck, even some bonus beautiful British scenery thrown in; don’t listen to those bitter Redditors who never like anything anyway.

I especially loved the slightly ambiguous ending. A lingering question is such a juicy cherry on top of a story, for me. Will he tell Ingrid the truth about Aaron, or will he not? IMO, he absolutely should not. Because what good would that accomplish? Why burden her with that knowledge? He better take that secret to the grave. But if you disagree, my inbox is always open, feel free to make your case.
Watching “Adolescence” as a Catholic Mom

September 18th, 2025

Needless to say, this post contains spoilers for the show Adolescence.

A month or so ago, my husband and I watched Adolescence, which as you probably know is a highly critically-acclaimed British limited series, released earlier this year, available on Netflix. Which, btw, I just saw that that young actor just became the youngest boy ever to win an Emmy; well deserved, he acted the heck out of that role, damn. And I guess it was nominated for a ton of other Emmys as well, so I needn’t waste any time talking about what a good show it is. Personally I love the limited series format, and I wish that more shows would limit themselves to just one season; all too often, the creators keep on dragging things along long after the story’s died and rotted, just because there’s money to be had, and it’s disgusting.

But so anyway, as you know if you read this blog, I am a really stupid person and not any kind of critic or anything, so I can’t contribute anything of value to the existing discussions of this show. I don’t pay any attention to the whole “redpill” thing or to whoever Andrew Tate is, so I can’t comment on any of that, although it did seem painfully obvious to me that whoever wrote this show has like intense personal beef with this Andrew Tate. I haven’t been inside of a high school in seventeen years (thanks be to God), so I can’t comment much on the state of public education, either, although from what I’ve heard this show depicted it very accurately, which, yikes.

No, as is the case on this entire blog, I have no expertise, so the only thing I can really put out there is my personal reaction, in case anyone out there, like me, just wants to talk about it. And for me, the big takeaway, the thing that I was left thinking about for days and weeks afterwards, was: do we have any control, then, over who we are, and how our kids turn out?

As a mom of little kids, I worry about this a lot. Maybe it’s a “millennial mom” thing, but it gives me a lot of anxiety, trying not to mess up my kids. I always overthink about every single thing I say to them, and worry that I’m psychologically damaging them no matter what I do. At the end of the day: “I was too mean and strict, they’re going to be traumatized and go no-contact with me as soon as they’re grown up, and rightfully so!” Or: “I was too lenient, I’m spoiling them, what would my priest say?!, they’re not going to have any sense of respect or discipline, I am one of ‘those’ modern parents, I am part of what’s wrong with society!” It seems that no matter what I say, I always look back on it at the end of the day and think that I should have said the opposite. No matter what I do, I am damaging them somehow, and setting them up for a future full of misery and expensive psychotherapy. But, how much control do I actually have over my kids’ outcome?

In the last episode of Adolescence, it seemed like the show was simultaneously blaming Jamie’s parents, and excusing them from culpability for his actions. Yes, it was their fault, because Dad had unresolved anger issues and was at work all the time, and Mom didn’t pay attention to the warning signs, like the way that Jamie was just in his room on the computer all the time. But, also, Dad couldn’t really help it, could he, because his own dad was violent with him, and Jamie’s dad was just doing the best he could, trying to contain his rage and not take it out on his kids (but instead on things like sheds and vans). And I guess the idea was that Mom wasn’t really at fault because she lives in a world where teenagers sitting on their computers all day is normalized. Both parents were, in their ways, just products of their own upbringing and environment.

Aren’t we all? How much control do I even have over myself and my own choices? I’m not going to talk about whether or not free will exists. That question is too mind-bendy for me. As a Catholic, I know that it is somehow both true that free will exists and that God has the ultimate power as well as foreknowledge of how everything will end up – that I simultaneously have control over my actions and have no control whatsoever, which is confusing, but it makes sense as long as you don’t think about it too hard, because it certainly appears true that we have free will, and it feels weird to think otherwise. As you can tell I’m far from equipped to talk about such lofty subjects as free will.

So I guess the question here is, can anyone ever not be just a product of their own upbringing and environment? Can anyone ever not doom their children to be just products of their upbringing and environment? Is it really all just one big hopeless vicious cycle of disorder and trauma?

I admittedly stress about this a lot, and that stress definitely swelled up again, for a while, after watching Adolescence. But fortunately for me, I am, as I already mentioned, Catholic, and in the Catholic Church, we are shown the way to freedom – to breaking that hopeless cycle.

Sure, as long as you’re just being yourself, living according to your own human limitations, seeking no more than as much human satisfaction as you can get, you’re going to be stuck in the cycle. You’re probably doomed to misery. I do not know this firsthand, as I am definitely not a saint, but I know from reading the lives of the saints, that the only way to escape that cycle – to breach the surface of these whirling murky waters of human pain and struggle, and finally take a breath of air – is to become a saint. I’m pretty sure that’s the only way to be actually free. A saint is the only kind of person who’s entirely free from the world and all its emotional/psychic/material anguish. A saint lives entirely in the truth.

Hm, so, does that mean that, if I’m not a literal saint, I’m doomed to be a shitty parent, and my kids are doomed to generational trauma?

Well, first of all, I think there’s a common misconception about saints that they never do a single thing wrong. That’s not what a saint is. The saints are not the same as Christ or the Blessed Mother. On earth, they weren’t perfect. They sometimes get things wrong. But the thing that made them saints was that they loved God very much and were entirely devoted to doing His will, not their own. They are already living in eternity; they have their priorities straight. But they’re still people, i.e. imperfect. So, I don’t think it’s necessarily true that one must never ever make a single mistake in order to be a good parent, to raise mentally-healthy kids.

What, then, is the secret? – No, really, can somebody tell me? Lol. I try to do my best, but my oldest is still only five, so despite having four kids, I’m still quite new at this.

I figure probably one of the most important things one can do, when it comes to raising kids who are free from the vicious cycle that is the human condition – i.e., kids who have the best chance at true happiness – is to pass on the Faith to them. That is the most important thing that we can give them. But of course, we should also practice what we preach. It’s not going to help our kids much if we teach certain habits and virtues but behave completely differently in our own everyday lives. That will just lead to confusion and fallen-away souls. The responsibility of being a Catholic parent is incredibly daunting. Which is why stories like Adolescence make me so anxious. Am I doing enough to save my kids? Am I doing enough, am I doing enough, am I doing enough?? If you’re a mom, even a secular mom, you get it!

I’m never doing enough, it seems – but, at least my children will know their Blessed Mother, who is perfect, and who will never fail them like I inevitably will to some degree.

It’s always interesting to me when secular stories like this accidentally profess the truth of God and His infinite love. Yes, every person is indeed doomed to a cycle of hopelessness and ruin, evil and pain, if they try to live without God. I guess all good art tells us something about God, really, and that’s why it is good.
Some thoughts on the passing of Pope Francis

April 30th, 2025

I write this not as any kind of expert on the papacy, the history thereof, or of Vatican politics or personalities. In fact, I admit, I am not really interested in politics at all. AP Government was my least favorite class in high school (besides gym); it all just seemed so arbitrary. I wish I were the kind of person who was interested in politics; it seems like such a mature, socially-responsible, unselfish thing to be interested in. But, unfortunately, the topic bores me to tears. And Catholic politics are only marginally more interesting to me than regular politics. I don’t really follow the news from Vatican City, beyond reading headlines. So, this little post will be mostly about my personal thoughts and reactions, and my experiences of being Catholic during this papacy.

It’s been over a week now since Pope Francis died. I’ve been digesting the news and sort of collecting my thoughts. I feel like I wouldn’t be a proper Catholic blogger if I didn’t at least post something responding to his death. So, here we go.

I loved Pope Francis. I respected him very much; he said and did a lot of great things, and touched a lot of hearts. He was our Holy Father, the Pope that God chose for us. I was shocked and deeply saddened to learn of his death, and have been praying for him daily.

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My initial discovery of Catholicism in 2012-2013 coincided with the end of Pope Benedict XVI’s reign and the beginning of Pope Francis’s. I was in college. I began my inquiry — attending Mass and meeting up with the campus ministry group and researching the faith — several months before the news that Benedict was retiring.

Here is a weird and silly little thing that I’ve never told anyone or even verbalized before, but may as well share with the internet, why not: I had a strange conviction, which I could not explain (it feels similar to the intuition that I get regarding the gender of my children in utero, which thus far has been correct 3/3 times), that my conversion was the direct result of Pope Benedict XVI’s prayers on behalf of sinners and unbelievers; that he was, somehow, at least partially responsible for my conversion. I still feel this way. I was a fan of his from the beginning, and, unlike some converts, never had any trouble getting on board with the concept of a hierarchy or a Supreme Pontiff, a Vicar of Christ on earth.

But, as you know if you know me or if you’ve read my little conversion story, I was very conflicted, in those early days, about some other aspects of Catholicism. I was still politically and socially quite liberal, and I didn’t feel right about joining a Church that opposed gay marriage, women priests, birth control, and abortion. I spent a lot of time and energy trying to figure this out. It was a weird time for me (for many reasons).

At some point in the midst of this turmoil, I heard the news that Pope Benedict XVI was retiring, which even I knew was unheard-of; the whole Catholic world was shook. Enter Pope Francis. It was a dramatic moment. He was so new and different. The first Jesuit Pope (I was not familiar, at the time, with all the controversy about the contemporary Jesuits), the first Latin American Pope, the first Pope to take the name Francis. Already, people seemed to be talking about him as the “liberal Pope.” Early in his papacy, he made the famous “who am I to judge?” comment, which, basically set the tone for the next twelve years.

You’d think that I, as a liberal-leaning wannabe-Catholic, ought to have been thrilled. This was the direction that I wanted the Church to go – wasn’t it? But something about it rubbed me the wrong way, and I couldn’t even explain why. It felt like something was crumbling beneath me. What was there to rebel against now?

I think it was evident, even then, that I didn’t actually want a modern Church. What I wanted was a secure foundation, a tradition to belong to: belong to surely enough that I could rebel against it, for a little while, like a teenager against its parents, but eventually come home. (I never really had a rebellious phase, as a teenager; I think perhaps this confused time was the substitute that my psyche came up with, for me.) Everyone knows that what stubborn, oppositional kids need is a firm hand: they need discipline, not permissiveness; that’s what they instinctively crave. It’s the same with unruly horses. A feisty horse only trusts a handler who’s strong and firm and fearless. It’s kind of counterintuitive; you’d think such creatures would thrive on gentleness and softness, but, it’s the exact opposite. That was me: I was the green horse, the oppositional child. On some deep level, I already knew that what I needed and wanted was something solid and unyielding.

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For the last week, it’s been seriously annoying me how everyone, especially non-religious atheists, are all over social media posting about how Pope Francis was “the best pope ever” and “just what the Church needed.” As if they’re experts on what makes a good Pope! Shouldn’t the fact that the liberal atheists love him so much, be a red flag in itself?

Yes, I loved Pope Francis. I loved seeing his photo on the wall in the vestibule in Church. He was our Holy Father, and I loved him like a member of my family. My own family of origin is not Catholic, and I don’t always agree with all of their life choices, and I love them none the less.

I don’t think Pope Francis was “the best Pope ever” or “exactly what the Church needed.” I’m no expert, but based on all the evidence I’ve seen, there are a lot of things that did not go well in the Church during his papacy. For example, Germany. It disturbed me quite a bit that Pope Francis would say mean things about Traditionalists and push further restrictions on the TLM, while turning a blind eye to the bishops in Germany, who are doing blatantly heretical things.

I know the stupid secular media likes to distort a lot of things Pope Francis said, to push their own liberal agenda. Like, he never actually, literally said that “all religions are a path to God,” nor did he approve “blessing of same-sex couples” (what he approved was blessing of each individual, which is kind of a no-brainer; literally anyone can get a blessing from any clergyman, no matter what the state of their soul). But, I did take issue with the way Pope Francis phrased some of these things. It just created more confusion. I think what we need at this time is a Pope who’s uncompromising, who leaves no room for misinterpretations.

A lot of the quotes from Pope Francis that I see these non-religious liberal fans of his posting, have nothing whatsoever to do with Christ. A lot of feel-good, warm-and-fuzzy, vaguely spiritual, “one big human family” type sound bites. I don’t know how much of that is accurate, like, how much of this the Pope actually said; and it’s certainly not true that he never spoke about Christ, of course he did!, but, I just don’t love that that’s the image that people have gotten of the Pope. Doesn’t it seem like he ought to be inseparable, in the eyes of the public, from Christianity? Surely this is largely the media’s fault. I’m not trying to make accusations. I just don’t feel right about where things are at, with this papacy.

I also am not entirely comfortable with the whole liberation theology philosophy that he pushed, which basically turns the Church into one big charity organization, and gives the impression that the way to save your soul is by being nice to others and giving money to charity. That is not what the Church teaches. We are not saved by doing good stuff. If our soul is in order and our priorities are straight, then good works will, without fail, arise naturally from that; which is why “faith without works is dead.” But it doesn’t go the other way. The Church is not a social justice organization. Its mission is Christ’s mission, i.e.: to save souls. You don’t save your soul just by doing charity work. If you read even a little bit of the Gospel or the great saints’ writings, this is painfully evident.

This liberation theology thing trickles down from Rome to individual parishes around the world. Which explains why I always so lost and misplaced in the NO churches that I belonged to.

I’m not built for missionary work, marches, or volunteering on the streets. I’m an INTJ/ILI with AvPD. I’m still figuring out how to best serve God and the world in my life, but I know for sure, after many, many awkward failed attempts to “push myself out of my comfort zone,” that ministry work, committees, and “being active in the community” are not my calling. For someone like me, there’s no place in the modern Church. Someone like me will always feel like they simply cannot belong or fit in, in a Church that teaches liberation theology. It wasn’t until I found the SSPX, where real Catholicism is taught, that I understood all of this about myself and the Church.

Why would a Pope eschew the beautiful, perfect Catholic Tradition, which is the actual essence of Catholicism itself? It’s confusing, to me. Confusion, that’s the thing. I feel like this papacy was marked by confusion. I’m grateful that I found a safe haven of sanity in the SSPX.

The Society has the most commonsense approach to all this. Of course Pope Francis is our Pope. Sedevacantism is silly. Vatican II was a valid council. But it’s also true that, since Vatican II, Rome has veered away from Tradition, which is a problem. Thus, the SSPX recognizes the authority and legitimacy of the Pope while also continuing to teach the faith in its entirety, because someone’s gotta do it.

So yes, I loved Pope Francis. One of my favorite things about him was that he addressed climate change head-on. I know the whole question of climate change is up for debate, in the Traditional community; lots of people aren’t even sure that it’s real, or firmly believe it’s a hoax. But I feel like there’s enough evidence for it (including the simple fact I’ve observed myself, over my 35 years of life, that fall and winter are getting warmer and less snowy, and summer is getting longer and hotter) that we ought to do something about it. And by “we,” I mean humanity in general: specifically big corporations, the food industry, the air travel industry. Little people like you and me, there’s really not much we can do, and tbh I’m sick of being shat on from all angles for not doing enough when even my very best efforts are not even a drop in the bucket compared to the steps that need to be taken by these huge organizations; but, what else is new. But that’s a rant for another day, lol.

And I loved that he was so compassionate. He was nothing if not compassionate and loving; in so many ways, he was really Christlike. I was sad when he got sick. I helped my young daughter mail him a get well soon card, and we pray for him all the time.

But no, I don’t think he was the best Pope ever. And I sincerely hope and pray that our next Pope is someone friendlier to Catholic Tradition.

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It’s scary to think about dying. About going before the judgment seat of Christ. Even more so for a priest, let alone a Bishop or the Pope himself! With that much responsibility for souls, the judgment will be so much stricter. I read somewhere once that “the road into hell is paved with the skulls of bishops.” It’s a sobering thought. I’m not pretending to be any expert, like I said, but I do think it’s super important that we all pray for our deceased Pope. Pope Francis himself once said that he likes to think of hell as empty. It’s a nice thought, and I sure hope he’s right, but unfortunately there’s a lot of evidence to the contrary.

The Church is really divided and confused right now, and it’s sad. I hope that, in praying for Pope Francis and his successor, we Catholics can find unity. Hopefully the next Pope will help us work towards that.
Mith’s Favorite Thing About “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent” (2022)

February 14th, 2025

Caution: spoilers

Here I am again, late to the party on a movie that came out in 2022. I am always slow to see new movies.

But I’d been curious about this one for quite some time. I mean, the meme was one of the best of the last several years. Plus, as you may know, I’m unironically a huge fan of Nic Cage, solely because he starred in my personal favorite movie of all time, The Wicker Man (2006) (yes, I unironically love this movie; I have always thought it was creepy and beautiful and captivating, and better than the original (yeah I said it), and have always had a girl-crush on Kate Beahan’s character; this is one of very few movies that I can and do watch over and over again, which, as you can imagine, just delights my husband).

But so I didn’t really know what I was expecting, when we started watching Unbearable Weight. I knew it was, like, meta, with Nic Cage playing himself, or something. Whatever; I will watch pretty much anything he’s in (the only movie of his that really disappointed me was The Pig (2021) – grim, boring, depressing, no redeeming qualities IMO; weirdly, I’ve heard that this is Nic Cage’s personal favorite of his movies?!).

So I had zero expectations, and ended up very pleasantly surprised!

For one, the humor. I have a pretty weird, gen-Z type sense of humor (caused, probably, by overexposure to internet memes and shitposting), so I typically don’t find movies funny, especially not comedies. But this one was genuinely hilarious. The part where Pedro Pascal’s character, high on LSD, turns and laughs at the two men who are, supposedly, “watching them” — you just know they were having so much fun filming that. And just in general, you have to respect Nic Cage for making so much fun of himself in this movie. It was honestly such a brilliant career move, on his part; really the smartest thing he could have done, as an actor, at this point.

For two, the story writing. I am always so in awe of a really smart, intricate, perfectly-assembled plotline, in which all the pieces are parts of a well-oiled machine. When no moment, no word of dialogue, is wasted, and things keep hearkening back to other things. I’m especially awed by mysterious and suspenseful or exciting stories; how do writers do that?! Like, the way the random monologue he recites at the beginning makes another appearance at the end, where it fits perfectly. And the way the movie that the two main characters are writing ends up coming true, and then becoming a movie again. It was just so freaking clever.

But the best thing about this movie was not the humor, nor the story writing, but: the friendship.

It really is, essentially, a Platonic love story. How often do you see those, in movies and shows? Especially about straight men? Almost never, right? I can’t think of any others, and I’ve been thinking for several days. I guess there was Napoleon Dynamite (2004); but I wouldn’t call that a Platonic love story, even though the friendship with Pedro was one of the biggest story elements; that was more of a self-discovery story. Can you think of any other movies that glorify male friendship, or, you might even say non-romantic soul mates, like this one does?

If only there were more shows, movies, and songs about best friendship rather than romance! I feel like our culture would be so much healthier. Speaking as someone who is admittedly obsessed with drama, romance, and sexual tension in stories, I really think we as a society are way too obsessed with such things. An alien observing our pop culture would probably think that sex and romance are all humans care about, the whole purpose of our existence. I remember being a little kid of perhaps seven, asking my Dad “why is it that every song on the radio is about someone’s boyfriend or girlfriend?”, and he was like: “You’ll understand when you’re older. 😊” And yeah, I do now, but also, I don’t. We should celebrate and glorify best friendship more.

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Friendship is such a fascinating thing to me, as someone with AvPD who doesn’t really have friends. I haven’t had a “best friend” of the Nic Cage/Pedro Pascal, Saweetie/Doja Cat variety since I was, probably like 14. I have some excellent friends with whom I correspond online, and I love them dearly, and those friendships are really all I need, in the way of a social life. But that type of close, intimate friendship where you do stuff like: share clothes, call on the phone whenever, get in an argument and then make up, talk about gross personal stuff, and call each other “bitch” for fun? I can only fantasize! That level of intimacy is so crazy, so terrifying.

It’s scarier than a romantic relationship, IMO, because in a romantic relationship, there’s sort of a transactional element. The other person wants something from you, and you know what that is: affection, attention, sex; or, if you’re going about things the proper way, marriage. There are pretty clear expectations, usually, when it comes to romance. Whereas, with Platonic friends, it’s like… you want what from me? My company? Lol, why??! What could you possibly get out of that?! This is probably why, throughout my late teens and twenties, I had quite a few boyfriends, but almost zero girl friends (and of those few, none of them were what I’d call “close”).

Friendship is so cool, because, in theory, a friend literally just likes you for who you are, and doesn’t want anything from you except to just be around you. That’s kind of wild to me. What’s even more wild is that, to lots of people out there, this kind of relationship apparently comes naturally! They don’t even need to think about it! 🤯

Female best friendship is pretty well represented in the media, even if it’s usually portrayed only alongside a romantic relationship, like a background thing. But straight male friendship? An intimate and loving but completely non-sexual relationship between two grown men? I feel like you just don’t see it that much, in the mainstream media; am I wrong?

It’s such a cool thing, and honestly a sign of a really healthy and secure man IMO, for him to have close male friends. This is one thing I’ve always found really attractive, and fascinating, about my husband: as a grown-ass man, now in his late thirties, he still has best friends that he hangs out with, for no reason, just for fun. They will seriously just go to each other’s houses, with no specific plans, and, do what? Hang out? Talk?? I don’t know! To me that is wild! They even go out to eat together and stuff, and, like, text each other for support when they’re having a hard time. To my AvPD-having ass, that kind of stuff is just unfathomable, lol. As much as I give my husband a hard time about abandoning me to go chill with his bros, I must admit that his ability to maintain friendships is one of the coolest things about him (don’t tell him I said that).

But yeah, so, to get back to the point, Unbearable Weight represents beautifully this magical, fantastical phenomenon of human existence that deserves to be more celebrated and glorified in our society, and I love it for that reason. I’d love to see this become more of a thing.
Mith’s take on the “17 Diapers”

February 12th, 2025

I know: I am, as usual, late to this story. I have never had TikTok; I am too old for that, so I rely on reposts on Instagram to get my social media news. Over the past few months, I’ve occasionally read up on this “17 diapers” mom’s story, and I find people’s reaction to her pretty troubling.

Now, as I said, I am not at all familiar with this influencer, whatever her name is – Nurse So-and-so. From what I’ve heard, she posted a lot of problematic content in addition to the video in question, like for example that she didn’t receive prenatal care during her pregnancy, or that she only changes diapers if they’re poopy, not just wet – both of which are, obviously, major red flags. I know there are also accusations of physical child abuse, based on certain behaviors that people observed in her videos. Which, I didn’t watch the videos, so can’t comment.

But! All that other stuff aside, I just want to focus on the topic that she actually went viral for. The issue of the “17 diapers.” Let’s pretend, for the purposes of this post, that she’s an otherwise harmless mom, and consider this issue in isolation.

In case you’re not familiar: Nurse So-and-so posted a video about her life at home when she was a few days postpartum, with a newborn and a toddler. Her husband had left to go on some kind of trip, abandoning her to solo parent both kids when she was fresh out of the hospital. Needless to say, she was struggling, and the house was a wreck. She posted this video, in which she says something like “let’s see how many used diapers are sitting around my house right now!” and proceeds to walk around her house counting them as she picks them up to take them to the trash for the first time in, presumably, several days. And, she ends up finding: seventeen used diapers. Just laying around her house, on the floor, on tables, in random places, not taken to the trash.

And the internet lost their mind over this. In both directions.

Half responded with: thank God! I can relate! Postpartum is so hard, thanks for being real and vulnerable and sharing, now I don’t feel so alone anymore!

And the other half was like: shame on you!! You have time to be on TikTok but no time to walk a diaper to the trash?! Your kids are going to get sick! This is child abuse, your kids are going to be traumatized, you are disgusting and don’t deserve to be a mom, etc. etc.

And it is this second group of people that really worries me.

Because, to start: how is it that, in 2024-25, people are not aware of how hard postpartum is, for a mom? The internet these days is absolutely obsessed with boasting about “my depression,” “my anxiety,” “my neurodivegence,” “my struggles” to the point where people are competing in some sort of suffering olympics, gatekeeping their “mental illnesses” with such presumptuous accusations as “you’re not really depressed, you don’t know what real depression is! I once stayed in my bed for an entire week, not bathing, not eating, just pissing myself right there in the bed because I was too depressed to go to the bathroom – and if you judge me for that, then you just don’t understand my struggle!” And people wear these types of anecdotes like a badge of honor. Their gold medal in the suffering olympics.

And yet, in the midst of this idiotic internet culture that celebrates mental illness, why is it that a postpartum mom – literally, medically speaking, a person most vulnerable to extreme depression, due to the massive hormonal changes, on top of the lack of sleep, the physical pain that she’s in, and the constant demands on her – why is it that her mental health struggle is invalid? Why is her depression not seen as real?! I’d argue that hers is probably way more real than that of a lot of these attention-hungry kids on social media.

To reiterate: it’s “cool” for some single twentysomething person to be so depressed they can’t leave their bed, and we don’t get to judge them – but, for a newly postpartum, solo-parenting mom to be so depressed that she has to prioritize keeping everyone alive, and doesn’t walk diapers to the trash? Unacceptable!

And also, why are we attacking the mom, and not her husband, who abandoned her at literally less than a week postpartum? Can anyone who doesn’t have kids really understand what a dick move that was? Where is your feminism now, internet?

Make it make sense.

“But, Mith,” you may perhaps be arguing, “of course she deserves more judgment than that single twentysomething rotting in his bed. She chose to have kids. She has a responsibility. It’s not about her anymore. She has to put on her big girl pants and take care of the house, even if it’s hard!”

First of all, yes, it is absolutely true that she has a responsibility. That is why she is up feeding her kids and changing their diapers when she would surely rather be rotting in her bed. I feel like, if you are judging her for not walking to the trash can, you have probably never been in survival mode.

I don’t know about you all, but I have three kids five and under, and our main trash can has to live in the sunroom off the kitchen, behind a door that we can lock, because otherwise they get into it, like little raccoons. And I solo parent most of the time. So yes, there have been occasions, like when I’ve been very sick, or had a rushed morning, when a used diaper gets left on the floor for a few hours before I’m able to walk it out to the trash. So, although my floor diaper count has never reached anywhere close to seventeen (because I married a decent man who would never even think of abandoning me like that!!), I can relate to her video. I’ve had a c section before. I know how painful and crippling postpartum can be. You physically can’t move around and do chores.

Second of all, let’s stop being hard on moms for choosing to have kids. Choosing to have kids should not mean subjecting oneself to judgment from strangers everywhere. Choosing to have kids is natural. It’s the most normal thing an adult in their 20s-30s can do. And it is a good thing, an objectively good thing to do, contrary to what all these sad antinatalists and misguided pro-choicers will try to tell you. Just because a woman chose to have kids, does not mean that she automatically has to be superhuman all of the time. (In fact, this expectation that moms have to be these enlightened superheroes, might be part of the reason why there are so many antinatalists and DINKs these days. Who wants all that judgment from everyone?!)

And furthermore, to get a bit gross, let’s look at the actual issue of the diapers themselves. (Let’s pretend that they’re not all fully loaded poopy diapers, as some have said that they apparently were, which is an issue.) If these were mostly just wet diapers, changed at the stage when a normal parent would normally change them – and, if they were tightly rolled up and taped into one of those neat little diaper balls that seasoned parents know how to make – then, is this seriously a bad enough offense to merit the “abuse” accusations? Obviously, if the diapers were all soiled and left unfastened and open where little hands could reach, then yes, that’s vile and that’s a huge issue; but the mere fact of a closed, wet diaper existing in a room – I don’t think that’s that terrible of an offense. Yes, it’s bad, and icky, but, child abuse? Calling CPS? Really?

Sometimes, I really think the internet just hates moms. Hates parents, hates babies, hates families – hates life. It’s a dark place.

“You’re probably really gross, then, Mith, if you’re defending this situation. I sure wouldn’t want to come to your house! Anyone who doesn’t think it’s always a terrible crime to leave used diapers out, is simply a disgusting person.”

We do have a moral obligation to keep our homes clean, especially if we have children. But the reason why we have that obligation is because we need to keep our families healthy and happy. We must take care of our families. Sometimes, in survival mode, taking care of our families means prioritizing the bare necessities: feeding, changing, clothing, washing. Cleanliness is important, but it’s not the be-all, end-all; it is not the deciding factor. You can have a clean house and still be a bad parent, just as you can have a dirty house sometimes and still be a good parent. Cleanliness of the house is only one of many things that factors into the quality of parenting.

(And, btw, is my house sparkling clean? No. Do I have any used diapers on the floor right now? Also no. I clean daily, and my kids are healthy and happy, thanks for your concern.)

And also: let’s not forget what this mom was actually doing, in her video. She was cleaning! Yes, it had been a few days, and she’s not pretending that’s okay. The thing is, just as soon as she was able, she cleaned up! It would of course be an issue if a mom left diapers around all the time, as a rule, and thought it wasn’t an issue. That would be really bad. But sometimes, a good, well-meaning mom goes through a hard time, and lets some things go; but, as soon as she’s able, she gets back up and improves things. She doesn’t let it become a pattern. The 17 diapers mom was not letting this become a pattern.

“But, if she had time to be on TikTok, then clearly she had time to pick up diapers!!”

This might be the most inane comment of them all, lol, and anyone commenting this immediately outs themselves as someone who has never met a newborn. A newborn wants one thing, and that is to lay on its mom, to snuggle with its mom 24/7. A mom with a new baby is, typically, couchbound, especially in the very early days – as she should be, as even the smoothest of births leaves a massive open wound inside your body and needs a lengthy recovery. What’s a new mom in 2024-5 going to do, while nap-trapped or nursing on the couch? Probably scroll her phone. It’s not that she’s loafing around when she could be cleaning. She cannot clean right now, so she’s scrolling to entertain herself while holding the baby. Which is also not a crime, and we all do it.

As I was saying, I’m aware that, in the specific case of Nurse So-and-so, there was more going on. Most of the responses to the viral video didn’t go into all that, though – the main shock factor was simply the “17 diapers” themselves, so that’s all I wanted to address here. And that issue, in and of itself, does not merit the harsh reactions that some people out there were having. The internet needs to leave moms alone.
The fundamental difference between pro-life & pro-choice

February 9th, 2025

The other day, I saw an excellent little video from one of my favorite pro-life content creators (“secularprolife” on IG: although I’m not “secular” myself, and don’t agree with every word she says, I love how she proves that abortion is wrong not just from a religious POV, but for everyone, even if you don’t believe in God at all). In this video, she pointed out something very helpful to consider, for anyone who wishes to engage in meaningful debate about this topic: namely, pro-life people believe that abortion ends a life, whereas pro-choice people tend to believe that abortion prevents a life from beginning at all.

I’m not here to delve into all of the reasons why it’s idiotic to believe that a baby in utero is not already alive (why would you need to abort it if it wasn’t alive?!). A quick biology lesson, or googling even the most rudimentary, basic info on the science of human reproduction, will fill you in on that, if you’re interested.

No, I am actually here to point out something else that I believe is a fundamental difference between the pro-life and pro-choice philosophies. Possibly an even more fundamental one than the one just named, because there are plenty of pro-choicers who are fully aware that abortion ends a life, but they simply don’t think it matters (or matters enough).

And that is because of this fundamental difference: pro-life folks believe that life is good, and pro-choice folks do not. To be more precise, the pro-life belief is that life is an objectively good and worthwhile thing, always, whereas pro-choice folks believe that life is only good under certain conditions.

A pro-choicer might say that, if a child is going to be born seriously ill or disabled, it is better off not living. Or if a child is going to be born to a very young mom, or a very old mom, or a mom who is poor, or a mom who is herself sick or disabled, then that child is better off not living. Or if the parents aren’t ready to be parents. Or if the child simply isn’t enthusiastically wanted by both parents. They claim that a child is better off being killed than being born into a life of any kind of sadness or hardship.

It is actually really very sad, when you think about it, to believe that life is only good in certain circumstances. Even if you don’t believe in God and His goodness, surely it’s evident merely from observing life, that life is an objective good. Why else would all living things strive to remain alive, to reproduce and create more life? I think it takes some real bizarre mental gymnastics to believe that life is not a good thing. It’s like finding some reason to believe that 1 + 1 does not equal 2.

But, I guess not too many people believe in any objective truth anymore. In a society where all belief systems are supposed to be seen as equally good (except, ironically, the one that teaches that objective good exists), nothing is really true anymore, is it.

I used to be an atheist, and I remember the moment when I began to finally see the flaw in this belief system. I was a junior in college, taking an upper-level philosophy course (because I guess I wanted to get as deeply and hopelessly into debt as I possibly could, lol) called Meta-Ethics. Early in the semester, our professor was asking us to think about what moral values actually are. Do they exist in the world, and if so what actually are they, and how can we identify them? I thought for a while, and took a look at my own idea of moral values: obviously they existed, because some things, like murder, were objectively wrong; but how did I know, really? Because it just felt wrong? I guess I had some vague concept of like an internal sensor that people must be equipped with; but to detect what? And if that were the case, why did people’s moralities differ so drastically? This philosophy, I began to realize, with a slight chill, did not hold water. (A couple years later I began converting to Catholicism.)

In our modern world, everyone has their own truth. Which, btw, brings me to one of my pet peeves: the phrase “my truth.” As in, “speak your truth” or “I’m telling you my truth.” There is no such thing as “your” truth! There is only the truth. What you’re referring to is your experience, your feelings, your side of the story – what you, an imperfect and non-omniscient creature, believe to be true. All of which are valid and important, sure, but they’re not necessarily any kind of truth. Let’s stop saying “my truth” and start saying “my side of the story.” Ugh, every time I hear the phrase “my truth” I throw up a little in my mouth. But anyway, that was a tangent.

People don’t believe in objective truth, nor do they believe in objective good. (Do we believe in objective beauty? I’m not sure if we do or not, that’s a different blog post.) Things are only “good” for a specific individual if that’s what that individual believes is good for them.

Which is a super dangerous way to think about goodness. An underweight anorexic person might believe it is “good” for them to not eat today, or that they need to lose more weight; are we going to honor their beliefs and respect their personal values, or are we going to do what’s actually good for them and encourage them to seek help, because they are simply wrong? An alcoholic really believes it’s for the best if they get drunk (even if they fully acknowledge that it’s damaging their health, to them, the apparent “good” that is pleasure and relief outweighs the health risk); should we tolerate diversity of opinion here? Or would the more loving response be to intervene, to let them know that they are wrong?

And if you admit that objective good exists in these situations, then you must follow that to its logical conclusion: so objective good does exist.

Health, for example, is good. But why?

Because, life is good.

So yeah, subjective morality is a very slippery slope. Pro-choicers do not believe that life is a good thing, and that is deeply sad.

I think you will generally find that people who are pro-choice tend to be less happy than people who are pro-life. And by “happy” I mean not “college educated, wealthy, healthy, successful” but rather “convinced that their life has an actual meaning and value regardless of their circumstances.”

Realizing that most pro-choicers are really sad, helps perhaps to see them in a more compassionate light. For example, some individuals I know who are pro-choice were never taught about the value of their own body or the tragedies of sexual immorality, and had to learn about sex in public school or from TV or their peers – either that, or they had morality violently shoved down their throats at a young age, and their “liberated” philosophy is a retaliation against that violence. Some of them are SA victims who are still healing from trauma. And a lot of it is just exposure to our depraved culture; we’ve “normalized” way too much, and to be “not normal” is a terrible social sin. So people will try to be normal so that they’ll be seen as valid and worthy. It’s all really very sad.

I wouldn’t call myself a “happy person.” I’ve always been gloomy, pessimistic, melancholic, negative, prone to bad moods and discontentment and periods of depression, and, as you know, I have diagnosed AvPD, which is chronic, and hardly a picnic in the park. But, in the grander sense of the word, I am deeply happy, because I know that there is hope of salvation.

At some point, subjective morality becomes impossible to live with, if you really look it in the face. If there is no objective meaning to anything, and life is not objectively good, then, sure, absolutely, abortion is as good as anything else! Why not get an abortion! Why not kill anyone! When you arrive at that point, in all seriousness, suicide is the only option. It’s pretty much necessary. I am not trying to be dramatic, this is a simple fact. What pleasure you can milk out of life is just that, just a blip, just a few moments of sensory pleasure in an expanse of suffering, with an eternity of blackness stretching out on either side of it, if you don’t believe that pleasure means anything more than just pleasure. We are not built to live with the knowledge that life is that meaningless. So, what’s more likely, that this universe is all some kind of random, material, evolutionary accident, or that we are built this way because there actually is a greater meaning we’re supposed to find?

But, ahem, that’s just my take, and I’m not here to try to prove the existence of God, lolol. I got way off track there! My point is, objective good exists, and life, more than anything else on earth, is absolutely objectively good. It’s kind of a no brainer, tbh. But I guess not for everyone, sadly.
Has anyone else noticed this about pop music?

February 8th, 2025

I wonder if anyone else has noticed this trend in pop music. Specifically, the upbeat, danceable kind of pop – I’m not talking about pop ballads, which have always been and will always be a thing. Since I noticed this, I can’t stop thinking about it, and pondering what it might mean.

I write this not as any kind of critic or expert, or even that big of a fan. I’m just some random person who’s been alive in America for 30-some years, sometimes listening to the radio. It would be interesting to see if anyone who is actually knowledgeable about pop culture over the last few decades had anything to say about this, or if they could disprove my theory.

Here it is: I’ve noticed that, over the last ten, fifteen years or so, pop song lyrics have become, in general, much more, shall we say, cocky. Overconfident, conceited, full of this spirit of “it’s all about me, I don’t need anyone.” “I’m so hot, everyone wants me, but they’re all just playthings to me.” A lot of talk about getting money and nice things. You see it in both male and female pop singers.

Yes, obviously Madonna did “Material Girl” in the ‘80s, and BSB did “We’ve Got It Goin’ On” (which, while playfully boastful, isn’t even quite the brand of cockiness that I’m talking about) in the ‘90s; but I feel like these examples were just occasions, not indicative of the general voice of pop music at the time. Whereas today, you see it everywhere. “Espresso” and “Taste” by Sabrina Carpenter, “thank u, next” and “7 Rings” by Ariana Grande, “FRIENDS” by Anne-Marie and Marshmello, “I’m The One” by Justin Bieber, “Strip That Down” by Liam Payne (may he rest in peace), just to name a few that come to mind. Even Taylor Swift, over the course of fifteen years or so, went from “Love Story” and “You Belong With Me” to “Out Of Style” and “Ready For It” (which is, actually, my favorite of her songs/videos).

I’m comparing these kinds of contemporary songs to the ones that were hugely popular when I was a kid, in the true Golden Age of pop. Yes, I know, everyone says pop music peaked in their youth, but in the case of my generation, who were kids in the late 90s, that is actually true. Britney’s “…Baby One More Time” and “Oops I Did It Again,” Spice Girls’ “Say You’ll Be There” and “Wannabe,” BSB’s “Millenium” and “I Want It That Way,” NSYNC’s “Bye Bye Bye” and “It’s Gonna Be Me,” even your less well-remembered pop hits like “Candy” by Mandy Moore and “Another Dumb Blonde” by Hoku – all of these had an emotional, sincere, vulnerable, well-meaning tone to their lyrics.

Yes, they were sexual, and by no means “that innocent” (lol), but, they tended to talk about relationships with an individual, desiring one individual, or trying to express something important to someone, or to express sadness about a failed relationship.

And yes, sure, you still see these kinds of lyrics today – but not in the flashy, hot pop songs. You tend to see them in the more subdued, soft-rock flavored brand of pop (like Maroon 5 or Teddy Swims or Ed Sheeran), not the fun, danceable ones. Vulnerability and sincerity seem to have lost their sex appeal. It’s like having a conscience is lame now. Caring has become cringe.

I wonder why this is.

Part of me wonders if it is the influence of rap and hip-hop. Mainstream rap and pop are merging, in a lot of ways. You see a lot more crossover these days than you ever did in my youth: rap stars featured on pop tracks is really normal nowadays. (The same thing is happening with country and rap right now, interestingly – look at this Morgan Wallen guy, featured on that new song by Moneybagg Yo. I actually am very much here for this flavor of crossover; in my neck of the woods, there’s a huge market for it, and I’ve been waiting for it for a long time.) Rap lyrics do tend to have this cockiness that I’m talking about: “I’m the best, everyone wants me, I’m so good at what I do, I get so much money,” etc. Now, as my loyal readers know, I am fascinated by rap and hip-hop, and am not at all belittling that genre or its themes. I just think it’s interesting to see how rap culture has become more and more influential on pop culture.

Or, is it caused by something else? Is it just that this younger generation loves irony more? Is it just that they are more sad, more jaded, more scarred by early exposure to the toxins of social media and modern life? They are growing up too fast (ever seen those “13 year olds today vs. me at 13” memes?). It seems like this generation has seen too much, too soon, and doesn’t have time or energy for feelings. Judging from their internet humor, they’re the generation who collectively wishes they’d never been born, and is filled with dread about their future, and copes via irony and brainrot; so, I guess this kind of jaded music speaks to them in a way that the sugary, enthusiastic lyrics of early Britney or BSB would not.

Maybe this is the crotchety old lady in me, but, I feel like this younger generation is also more self-centered in general. Not in bad way, necessarily: it’s just that these kids have grown up chronically online, and were isolated during their formative years thanks to COVID; not to mention the explosion of the “self care” movement, and the related pop psych trend of adult children going no-contact with their families of origin as a way to “set boundaries” and “protect their own mental health.” These kids have it easy, in a way; they never had to pick up their family telephone to call their friend on their friend’s family phone, and endure the mortifying ordeal of asking their friend’s mother if so-and-so was around! Much less approaching a person of interest irl and asking them out! Nope, nowadays you can just text “wyd.” These kids are lonely, jaded, and simultaneously too soft and too hard for their age. At risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, I really think all of this has contributed this “all about me, fuck everyone else” attitude that we see in their pop music.

When did this become a thing? Like I said, it’s not completely new, but as far as I can tell only very recently seems to be the norm. I wonder if the turning point wasn’t in the late ‘00s, when Lady Gaga rose to power. She was obviously really innovative, as a pop star. Her lyrics weren’t quite “2020s cocky” yet, but she definitely had this brazen, IDGAF, galvanized, “queen bitch who won’t slow down for no man” kind of quality, that vanity and self-celebration that’s fueled by a deep sadness. Because that’s what it really is, I think: this attitude is the fruit of emotional trauma, of a deep sadness. Sia, who’s probably my favorite pop singer ever, addresses this sadness head-on in her lyrics more than anyone else I’ve heard on mainstream radio. The Weeknd does it, too.

But anyway, Lady Gaga – I remember when “Just Dance” came out, it was a huge deal. It spoke to so many of us kids at that time: “I’m sad, I don’t want to think about my problems, I just want to get wasted and hook up with strangers to numb my pain.” And then, “Poker Face” and “Bad Romance:” both songs about, not being in love, not caring about the other person, but about a manipulative but sexy “situationship,” about people using each other. The lyrics acknowledge how sad this is, while also glamorizing it: the message is, basically, “fuck it, I can’t afford to care anymore.” Lady Gaga was saying these things out loud, in a fun and catchy way, and made it cool. I think it’s generally true that people who really love and idolize her are deeply sad people.

Sadness has really become much more mainstream, these days. When I was a kid, it was weird to be in therapy or on antidepressants. Today, all the cool kids are depressed and on meds and in therapy, or self-diagnosing with all kinds of mental illnesses; it’s actually weird not to be mentally ill now. Which is itself a glaring symptom of a broken culture, IMO, but that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms and a way bigger problem than pop music.

But, this mental illness trend probably underlies the tonal shift in pop music. So I think it’s all of these things – the convergence with rap culture, the jadedness and sadness and self-centeredness of the younger generation – which fuel what I’ve come to think of as 2020’s cockiness in pop music.

None of this is meant in any way as a jab at pop artists or at today’s youth. I remember when I was younger, I hated listening to older people bitch about millennials; I hated that they’d assume something to be true of me just because of what was popular among other people my age, none of whom I even really related to. It wasn’t until I was older, and began to have some more perspective, that I identified strongly as a millennial, and could begin to see what was funny and sad and cool about millennials at large.

Anyway – what I mean is, I’m not trying to say that every individual born after the year 2000 is selfish and immature; nor am I trying to say that music has gotten worse.* I respect Sabrina, Ariana, Taylor, and all the rest; I think they’re talented and cute and good at what they do. I’m just idly observing what I see as an interesting, and perhaps telling, trend.

*That being said, though, early ‘90s pop will always be superior to all other eras, as previously stated.
Mith’s one issue with the movie “The Whale”

February 3rd, 2025

Warning: this post contains what I’d consider “spoilers” for the plot of the movie The Whale (2022). If you haven’t seen the movie already, definitely go watch it ASAP, then come back and read this if you want.

I’m late, I know. I’m always slow to see new movies. Even before I had children, I pretty much only ever went to a movie theater if someone else invited me. The last time I set foot in a movie theater was a rare occasion in September of 2022, when my husband and I went to see Nope for our birthday (we have the same birthday, four years apart, and we’re both big fans of Key & Peele, and loved Get Out, so we were pretty stoked about Nope; IMO the chimpanzee scenes were better than the alien ones, and creepy as heck).

But so anyway, true to form, I only just watched Darren Aronofsky’s highly-acclaimed film adaptation of the play The Whale a couple of nights ago, even though it’s apparently been out since 2022?!

What finally inspired me to watch it was: well, for one, my husband recently decided to delete Netflix because they keep hiking their ridiculous prices up (guess we’ll have to temporarily resubscribe in the fall for GBBO), so, since we canceled our subscription but still had the service for a few days, and we didn’t have a show to watch that night, we decided to just scroll Netflix like “well, let’s see if we can get anything out of this while we still have it.”

And, for two, I love Brendan Fraser as much as any other millennial, and had read that this movie was like his big comeback after Hollywood did him dirty and tried to ruin him. And, for three, as we were scrolling Netflix and I saw that they had this Brendan Fraser movie that I’d read a bit about, I noticed in the description that it was directed by Darren Aronofsky, of whom I’ve been a huge fan since I first saw Pi in like 2009 or ‘10 (it was shown to my class one day during an elective I was taking called “Magic, Science, and Religion”). Black Swan was huge for me, as I’m sure it was for anyone with an ED. In fact, that was one movie that I did go out to the theater alone to see (one day when I was desperately trying to find some reason to get the hell out of my house because it was a really bad ED day, so it was perfect). So already when I saw that name I was sold.

But also, for four, I saw that, obviously, the movie deals with the issue of weight/fatness, which, as you know, is an endlessly fascinating topic to me. And it was about a writer – a writing professor, actually, and I have a fair bit of experience with those (believe it or not). Plus, it sounded like one of those quiet, character-driven stories that I’m such a simp for. So, seeing all of this in the Netflix description, I told my husband to hit play immediately.

What I did not realize before watching The Whale was that it takes place in northern Idaho, as do pretty much all of this playwright’s works. I haven’t read the play – I’m not huge on reading plays, tbh, and have never really enjoyed reading one – but I looked up Samuel D. Hunter, and I guess he lives in and writes pretty much exclusively about the Idaho Panhandle. Which, if you know me, you know I absolutely flipped out about, because a certain fictional character of mine also hails from the Idaho Panhandle (his hometown even got a mention in the movie!). In fact, some years ago, I was so intent on learning about this character’s backstory in this location, that I once flew out there solo (a long flight, from where I live) and spent two weeks just hanging around the town, exploring, sleeping at a motel, getting a feel for the place – which was super weird, objectively, because it’s not really a tourist town, and I was just a lone 25 year old woman who didn’t know a single (real) person in that town, and it was just seriously super weird, but super interesting for me. I was delighted to find that the place was exactly the way I’d seen it in my imagination – even more so, if that makes sense. The whole time I was there I kept looking around at the most mundane things and going “but of course!!”

So, yeah, I kind of have a weird passion for that whole area, and one thing I loved very much about The Whale is that it manages to capture a very strong sense of northern Idaho without once leaving that little apartment. In college, one of my most memorable courses was one called “Writing About Place,” and the professor (whom I idolized, and whom I’ve mentioned on this blog before) once said something along the lines of – I paraphrase roughly – every story is irrevocably tied to a place. It must always be true that that story could only happen in that place. You really feel that, about The Whale and northern Idaho.

The other thing I did not realize before watching this movie, but that pleasantly surprised me, was that it is very much about God and religion, as well as the ethics of sexuality and marriage: both favorite topics of mine. However: this brings me (finally) to the actual point of this blog post.

This movie was perfect, IMO. I could not stop watching it. My husband and I always watch something on TV at night after the kids are in bed, and always, if it’s a movie or a longer episode of TV, anything longer than like an hour, I need to pause it halfway through and go to bed, because I am old and tired and a mom of young kids. But this one, I could not pause. I stayed up stupidly late to finish it, and felt it the next day, but had no regrets. It was riveting and wildly entertaining and also brilliant, and forced me to experience Emotions, which I simultaneously love and hate. To say nothing of the obviously-stellar acting. All in all, flawless.

But actually there was, for me, just one flaw. And it’s not even so much a flaw of the movie itself, so much as perhaps a flaw in the understanding of the individual(s) who created it.

It’s in that scene right near the end, when Thomas shows back up to the apartment all excited because he believes he’s finally figured out why God brought him to Charlie’s place. Thomas explains to Charlie that he (Charlie) is suffering because he’s living according to the flesh (accurate), and that God wants him (Charlie) to turn to Him and allow Him to help him. And Charlie calmly debates him on this, and the conversation turns to Charlie’s deceased lover Alan, who died tragically, and it ends up reaching a point where Charlie asks Thomas: do you really think God turned His back on Alan because they (Alan and Charlie) were in love? And Thomas, with whom I’ve pretty much loosely/tentatively/conditionally agreed this whole time, thinks about it, and admits: Yes.

That’s the flaw!! I feel like the filmmaker was hereby trying to represent the POV of religious folks in general, and failed. Well, maybe certain sadly misguided Protestants out there think this, that God turns His back on sinners – but well-formed Christians know that’s not true. God never turns His back on us. As we see in the story of the Prodigal Son, God is a loving father, always waiting for us with open arms! In His mercy He has given us free will, so that we can choose to love Him. He could have just created us to be robots with no choice but to love Him, but that wouldn’t be meaningful, would it – it’d be dumb and sad, the same way it’d just be depressing and sad to be married to a robot you’d built yourself for the express purpose of loving you. I don’t know about you, but I want my spouse to freely choose me with his whole heart and mind, just as we are free to choose, or not choose, God. God does not turn His back on us. If we go to hell, it’s because we chose hell, and God in His mercy is honoring our free will, even though it saddens Him greatly when we turn away from Him. I’m clearly no catechist or apologist here, but I think this more or less sums up the correct, Catholic POV of God’s attitude toward sinners.

It’s unfortunate that the filmmaker(s) seem to think we Christians believe in a God who would abandon us for making mistakes. No wonder they resent us so much! I find myself wishing that Charlie had been approached by a Catholic, instead of whatever weird sect Thomas was supposed to belong to (in the play, he was actually Mormon, apparently, and was called Elder Thomas. How weird is that, a nineteen year old “Elder!”).

I feel like the creators have perhaps not been exposed to any real Christians. Which is sad, but unsurprising, considering that I’m pretty sure the SSPX presence in the Idaho panhandle is approximately zero. 😀

But, perhaps I misunderstood what they were doing here. Maybe they were not actually trying to comment on religion as a whole. Maybe Thomas only spoke for himself, and for that weird Mormonish flavor of Protestantism in which he was formed. Maybe, since this story is so firmly grounded in northern Idaho, it was only commenting on the particular brand of religion that’s widely available out there. But, somehow, I really got the impression that his character was meant as a symbol of Christianity in general. I wonder what you all think.

And to be fair, Thomas was, in spite of all that, portrayed pretty sympathetically, as a realistic, fleshed-out, sincere and smart human being, albeit somewhat naïve. You don’t often see that in anti-religion stories – usually, they’ll portray religious folks as shallow, stuck-up, two-dimensional idiots – so, I appreciated that. But they seemed to imply that he will eventually “outgrow” his religion. And I got the vibe that that’s what the writer(s) think about religion – that it’s something to be outgrown. Which is unfortunate.

However. I think, in trying to show that religion is wrong and bad, they actually managed to show us something true and beautiful about religion and God.

Because they did a great job of portraying sinners sympathetically, too. Charlie obviously epitomizes “living in sin” – I mean, he left his wife and child for “love,” which is an irrational, unreliable, and flesh-driven phenomenon, regardless of your sexual orientation – and yet, he is a smart, wise, and compassionate guy, and you really feel for him, and see where he is coming from. It could be said also that he is gluttony incarnate, but, I don’t think he can be held accountable for gluttony, because he’s clearly an addict and emotionally unwell. It’s like how someone who commits suicide when they’re very depressed cannot be held accountable for this terrible sin, due to their disrupted mental state. Although Charlie, like any addict, obviously carries some responsibility for getting himself into this position in the first place. But, you can understand why he did. You completely relate and sympathize (at least, I did).

And for that reason, this movie actually does a really good job of portraying God’s mercy. When a story causes you, the viewer/reader to see things from God’s POV, and you see the goodness and spark of divine in a character, no matter how disgusting that person’s behavior – you start to see them through the lens of God’s mercy – that is, I think, the mark of a really worthwhile story.

So perhaps they might have messed up in trying to portray religion, but, regardless, I personally think they did a really good job (whether intentionally or not) of making a movie that shows us something about God: something edifying and true and beautiful.