Do Journalists Have No Shame?

No respect for our precious language? No reverence for holy things?

…If anyone uses the word ‘iconic’ in my presence–actual or virtual–to refer to anything other than that which pertains to AN ICON

…he will receive a clerical beat-down that he will NEVER forget!

Please! Let’s have some restraint here. Words have actual meanings, people. They resemble tortilla chips at a cocktail party: No double-dipping! Use them to mean what they mean, and only what they mean, please!

One uses the word iconic PREPOSTEROUSLY when qualifying a bike design, Ralph Mooney’s steel guitar, a radio tower, a 747, or a wine label logo. I could go on and on and on. Journalists use the word ‘iconic’ even more often than they use the passive voice and almost as often as the verb ‘to be.’

May the Lord preserve us. Allow me to recommend George Orwell’s 1984 as a cautionary tale.

Short-Pants Era and other Reminiscences

Mount Tabor, seen from the north
Mount Tabor, seen from the north

One year ago today, we priest-pilgrims with were with Archbishop Burke at the top of Mt. Tabor.

Continue reading “Short-Pants Era and other Reminiscences”

Three and Out

I was dismayed to discover this morning that I was not named to the President’s Religious Advisory Council.

This leaves me with more time to compile lists of some of the best things in life.

The list below is now retired. There is a new, special-edition Bests above.

Best Scene from “Prince of Egypt“:

ph2006022100002Best Tori Amos Song: A Sorta Fairytale

Best Georgetown Hoya Ever: Patrick Ewing

Best Professor at Seton Hall University: Fr. John Grimm (pictured above with the Holy Father and a foolish tall priest)

Best Super Bowl Commercial:

Tigers! Bengals?

memphis_logobengals_logoFirst of all, did you know that in Europe, they put fried eggs on their club sandwiches?

This is something I never knew. I was reading a column in the Financial Times, a British newspaper. In order to make sense out of what I was reading, I had to put two and two together.

club-eggThe column only makes sense if a club sandwich requires a fried egg. The man who wrote this column lives a high-flying life, to which it will be hard for us to relate. Nonetheless his is an entertaining tale of sandwich enjoyment (or regrettable lack thereof).

Secondly, let me apologize for allowing SIX hours to go by since the Hoyas beat the Memphis Tigers in overtime before I got on this blog to whoop it up.



I couldn’t get to this sooner because the overtime ended literally at the very moment I had to go over to church to prepare to celebrate Holy Mass. And I just haven’t had a free moment in the past four hours. But let me repeat:


Last year, Memphis went to the NCAA finals. Admittedly, this year they do not have Derrick Rose. In fact, the Tigers do not have a point guard at all.

The Tigers made mistakes this afternoon. But so did the Hoyas. And the Hoyas couldn’t buy a bucket for long stretches of time. Somehow Georgetown pulled the game out nonetheless.

(Web facsimile.  Actual banner does not look like this.)
(Web facsimile. Actual banner does not look like this.)
The lead changed in the game 18 times. There were 15 ties.

When the game went to overtime, the Hoyas had more gas in the tank when they needed it.

I was sitting in the Verizon Center last night during the Caps game, looking up at the banners in the rafters. One of them reads: Georgetown Hoyas, NCAA Champions, 1984.

It would be nice to have another one of those.

Meanwhile…Redskins? Please? (1:00 kickoff tomorrow)