Back in September, Charles Moore, a columnist in the Saint John Telegraph Journal made me livid.

            He wrote a column headed “Christianity Is Under Siege by Sacraphobes.”

            It began “When religion is the topic du jour in newspaper letters, columns, on open line radio and TV shows and journalistic commentary, a chorus of atheists, secular humanists, and cranks can be relied upon to regurgitate a threadbare inventory of the Christian Church’s shortcomings – imagined and real – over the past two millennia.

            “The standard complaint list includes hypocrisy, mediaeval corruption in the Church, sexism, patriarchy, the Crusades, the Inquisition, alleged bigotry and homophobia, clerical sexual abuse scandals – yada, yada, yada, all accusations calculated to put Christians on the defensive.”

            For one thing, Moore misleads about some of the things that outrage critics of some church hierarchy behaviour. Sexual abuse is a horror. The common practice of church hierarchies to cover up crimes, shelter offenders and transfer them to other unsuspecting congregations is the truly despicable action. It made church hierarchies accessories to the offences.

            To make light of the horrors he himself listed with “yada, yada, yada” is outrageous. It sounds more like a teenager reaction to a parent nagging about homework, household chores, curfews and safe driving than an indictment of crimes against humanity.

            There are, in my opinion, huge differences between Christianity and the church organizations which profess to practice Christianity.

            There are huge differences between many people who call themselves Christians and Christian behaviour.  Many who talk loudest about being Christian don’t even really talk the talk much less walk the walk.

            Crusades, inquisition, bigotry, yada, yada, yada?

            A “threadbare inventory?”

            “Imagined and real?”

            “Alleged bigotry and homophobia?”

            “Calculated” to put Christians on the defensive?

            My mother used to say that of all the jobs God has to do, the one people are most willing to help with is the judging.

            I identify myself as an agnostic, by the definition I like, which is that an agnostic does not know the true nature of God and does not believe that you do either. In my case, I am tempted to add “especially Charles Moore,” after the “you.”

            There are many good people trying to be good Christians which is, in my opinion, much the same as trying to be a good secular humanist. Walking the walk is what matters, not blindly supporting a power structure.

                                                                        DAC

            I learned a long time ago, if there is something worth doing, it is worth getting someone to do it. — David Cadogan

             New Brunswick is the only officially bilingual province in Canada.

            What a joke!

            Again this week, I sat among a roomful of Anglophones, many of them a third my age, who had signed up for French second language training at New Brunswick Community College night school.

            Some of them will make it. I’m especially impressed by a bear of a man who has made great progress over the past three years. He works for a federal government department with mostly Francophone co-workers. He’s smart, determined and driven by necessity.

            Most of us older students can speak some French to each other but, when we hear a first language French person speak, we realize we are speaking only a pidgin version of the beautiful tongue. We aren’t immersed.

            It is almost four decades since the late Premier Richard Hatfield came to power and replaced “The Picture Province” with “Nouveau Brunswick” on our license plates. How can it take three cycles of students from grades one to 12 to arrive at a point where the great majority of graduates are still functionally unilingual?

            What a joke!

            Earlier this year, Justin Trudeau, federal Liberal nominee and son of the Rt. Hon. Pierre Trudeau, spoke to a convention of teachers in New Brunswick.

            He made the common sense observation that it would be more practical and unifying to have all of our students in one school system learning both English and French simultaneously.

            There wasn’t even any big uproar about it. Over the weekend the hoary old power structures of the teachers, bureaucrats, and his party moved as one to have federal party leader Stéphane Dion publicy spank Trudeau and force him to apologize for his egregious error.

            That’ll larn him to speak sense and tell the truth! He’ll never do that again! And we wonder why politicians aren’t honest. It’s fatal.

            What a joke!

            Now New Brunswick is in a big political and bureaucratic turmoil about the Post Secondary Education report and plan and the long-term self-sufficiency of the Province of New Brunswick itself.

            No one is discussing the obvious fact that the northeast is shriveling away partly due to emigration.

            As bilingualism becomes more and more a requirement in government and retailing and business generally, young people are leaving the province. Some leave because, being unilingual, there are few jobs and even less upward mobility in a nominally bilingual province.

            Others are leaving because, with fewer unilingual young people, there is less business to be done with the smaller population.

            Even in the parts of the province populated by primarily one language group or the other, upward mobility is limited by the requirement for a language that was never really made available to everyone.

What a joke!

            For several years I promoted the idea of one school system and bilingual instruction from grade one and earlier.

            The Francophone segregationists made it bluntly clear that that concept verges on sacrilege, blasphemy and sedition. They, sincerely I think, believe that that must lead to assimilation. They feel the French language and culture must be preserved as opposed to creating a new bilingual, bicultural New Brunswick society.

            Anglophone teachers and bureaucrats are almost as resistant. Many of them seem to have convinced themselves that late immersion second language training or even second language training as a course in a unilingual program can work. They’ll say, with straight faces, that early immersion in a second language damages first language skills.

            What a joke!

            There has been no formal instruction in English grammar in English schools in the province for 30 years now. Very few teachers, other than the English subject teachers, in the English system have any real command of the language. How would they? They were never taught.

            Any hint English students have of grammar and parts of speech comes from whatever exposure they have to French.

            That joke is actually funny in addition to being ironic.

            Time to regroup. If Justin Trudeau can be so easily demolished, what chance have I?

            So, now I no longer promote the idea of one bilingual and bicultural school system in New Brunswick.

            Now I propose that the English let the Francophone segregationists go their own way while Anglophones develop a totally bilingual system everywhere in the province including Hartland and Sussex.

            The advantages are plentiful and obvious. French is sexy and bilingualism is an advantage in every aspect of life.

            Consider for a moment, the ongoing question of recruiting doctors and specialists to New Brunswick. If the great majority of New Brunswickers spoke both English and French, it wouldn’t matter whether the doctor did or not, would it?

            Doctors might also consider it a bonus attraction to New Brunswick to know his or her children would attend a school that would make them fluently bilingual and bicultural in a global village.

            Who knows? Over time, the children of the Francophone segregationists might even be attracted to join a new society. Perhaps we’ll devise one post-secondary education program too and achieve self sufficiency.

            What a joke!

            Why can’t I laugh?

            Could it be because segregation never leads to unity?

                                                            DAC

            Do you walk to work or take your lunch?

            Do you support our troops or want to bring them home?

            The second question is as much a non sequitur as the first.

            Does supporting the troops mean keeping them in harm’s way on the say-so of people with political rather than national security or moral objectives?

            I get very frustrated with people who ask why Canada sent troops to Afghanistan in the first place.

            After Al Qaeda attacked the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001, a huge majority of Canadians were devastated and outraged. Whatever differences we may have with Americans on a day to day basis, they are the best neighbours a giant can be. We share more basic principles with them than with most of the rest of the world. Even in their own interest, they have done a tremendous amount for us over the years.

            It was in their own interest to carry most of the freight in the cold war against Soviet communism but it also meant we lived under their umbrella with very little cost. We are, with them, among the original North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) allies.

            There was no doubt that the Taliban government of Afghanistan sheltered and protected Al Qaeda.

            What would we have done but join the UN-sanctioned, NATO invasion?

            Our troops have gallantly supported us in that endeavour. To date, 71 of their members and one diplomat have died.

            The question now is, when is the war over? When can we remove our young people from harm’s way with honour?

            That is a question we, as a nation, should be considering every day.

            It isn’t our job to occupy Afghanistan. We cannot force their choice of government upon them. Democracy can only exist where people want it to exist and can muster the internal strength to create and maintain it.

            Does that will and ability exist in Afghanistan? Will it anytime soon?

            Or is the alternative to the Taliban a mosaic of warlords and religious sects with no interest or allegiance to our democratic ideals?

            If that is the case, supporting our troops would mean getting them the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

            Neither does supporting the troops mean doing what they say we should do or they want to do. Most of them are testosterone-charged young men. That’s not an insult. I was one myself once and wouldn’t have missed it for the world. However, it is not the only qualification for decisions about making war.

            Those who die in battle “do not grow old as we who are left grow old,” but they’d certainly have liked to have had the chance.

            One of Cadogan’s laws is that, to go to war, you must be over the age of 65 and have a note from your mother.

            To me, supporting our troops means only betting their lives and bodies when there is a very clear reason and objective for doing so.

            It does not mean being willing to fight any battle to the last drop of their blood for a nebulous goal.

            This is such an important issue that it should be divorced totally from party politics. All party leaders should agree to make our national decision a free vote.

                                                DAC

        Mary Richardson is not a wealthy woman. Normally she might not be considered a powerful woman – one of the heavy hitters in the community.
        Mary has, however, pulled off an impressive, generous and inspiring feat. In one year of wheeling and wheedling, organizing and hustling and the lavish application of personal elbow grease she raised $10,406.53. Like a one-woman service club, she ran bingos, dinners, a concert, sales and a raffle for a cord of firewood.
        She donated the total take to the Miramichi Regional Hospital Foundation digital mammogram project, a $600,000 project.
        Imagine the determination, dogged effort, and tremendous commitment of personal time it took to do that!
Wow!

Scotty Bernard
        Scotty Bernard disappeared from among us very quickly. Most of us had just recently heard he was ill when he died. The cancer he had been fighting a delaying action against just ran amok in his body.
        He was 61, a city councilor and well known in the city for his good humour. Most conversations with him involved many smiles and a lot of laughter.
        Many and well-deserved tributes were made to his memory and his contributions to the community.
        If I had to define Scotty to you folks who didn’t know him with one story it would be, it is, this.
        For years, every single morning, he presented his wife Donna with a brand new poem he wrote for her that day.
        John Keats’ best known two lines of poetry are:
        “Beauty is truth, truth beauty, – that is all
        Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”
        I think you now know all you really need to know about Scotty Bernard.

The usual suspects
        Friday night was a night of running into usual suspects.
        One gang of usual suspects, music aficionados, was at Saddler’s for the Morgan Davis performance.
        It’s always a bit mysterious to find oneself so close to such a great talent. My judgment of Davis’s talent is borne out by the fact that he draws many of the best musical talents in the territory to his local shows.
        Owen Murdoch and George Washburn were among his most appreciative fans Friday.
        Davis and his guitars speak as one. He makes everything seem so easy that my eyes and my ears call each other liars. How can he make such beautiful and complex music so easily and smoothly.
        His wicked wit goes over well with Miramichiers too. His ode to his inflatable girlfriend, Polly Urethane, had everyone in stitches.

Ray Fraser
        Another gang of the usual suspects was at Books Inn where Ray Fraser was signing his new book, “When The Earth Was Flat.”
        Fraser, along with his then wife Sharon, David Adams Richards, Jim Stewart, and Leo Ferrari made up a creative, hard-partying, tireless gang of conversationalists who revolved around the brilliant, hilarious, wicked, poet, dramatist and columnist, Alden Nowlan.
        Another lad, name of Richard Hatfield, was an associate member and used Alden’s talents as a speech writer in his marathon 17 years as premier of New Brunswick.
        I’m not sure whether to describe that gang and those times as New Brunswick’s Camelot or New Brunswick’s Algonquin. It was golden like the Kennedy Camelot and literate and ironic like New York’s Algonquin round table of Dorothy Parker, Harold Ross, Robert Benchley, and Alexander Woolcott.
        Leo Ferrari’s main cause was the Flat Earth Society whence Ray’s book takes its name.
        Promoting Jim Stewart as the rightful King of England was Alden’s scheme to help the terribly shy young man meet women. The playful hoax spread and, according to Fraser, actually reached Queen Elizabeth II via Lord Mountbatten.
        Alden’s role in the Flat Earth Society was a junior one. He was the official court fool. When meetings opened with the pronouncement “The earth is flat as any fool can plainly see!” Alden would solemnly rise and say “I can see that,” and sit down.
        I’m just getting into “When The Earth Was Flat” so I may have more to report later.
        I can’t resist leaving the subject of Friday night with the famous hack line, “It was a dark and stormy night!”
        It was bad enough getting to Books Inn. Getting away was worse. The runoff overcame the storm drains and water was running a good foot deep beside my vehicle. I had to borrow two garbage bags for my feet to wade to the door.
                                                                   David Cadogan

            New Orleans is one of my favourite places on earth.

            Jazz & Heritage Festival – http://www.nojazzfest.com/ – is the best time to go for music. It is held on the last weekend of April and the first weekend of May every year. The weather is hot but tolerable then. The music! The food! The art! The history!

            It’s worth it to stay in the French Quarter for safety and to be within easy walking distance of all your favourite places day and night. We stay at the St. Louis – http://www.stlouishotel.com/ , or the Marie Antoinette –  http://www.stannmarieantoinette.com/. They’re sister hotels.

            Have a great pastry and coffee breakfast at Cafe Madeleine on the right hand corner of Jackson Square as you face the church. Have an Italian muffaletta sandwich lunch at Central Grocery on Decatur. You’ll never foret it.

            Visit the galleries and antique shops on Royal Street. Looking for an emerald estate bracelet in the $250,000 range? No problem. Perhaps a Chagall or a Piccasso? No problem. Perhaps a nice two-storey crystal chandelier in the $175,000 range? No problem. You won’t be intimidated. Royal Street shops treat you the same in jeans, T shirt, ball cap and fest sunscreen as in a suit.

            Check out the Dirty Dozen Brass Band – http://www.dirtydozenbrass.com/ – and the New Orleans Nightcrawlers – http://www.neworleansnightcrawlers.com/ – two of the long line of classic jazz funeral bands. I dare you to try to stand or sit still while they’re playing.

            The magic of New Orleans is from all of the cultures that crashed into each other there and created exciting new art, music, cuisine, and style that is different from but familiar and attractive to people from all over the world.

May I propose a toast to your coffin!
May it be made from an oak tree so old and grand that one, clear, unjoined, board from it provides sides, ends, top and bottom.
May it grow from an acorn that you and I shall plant in the morning.
(Attributed as old Russian and as Irish.)

In Crete, I was intrigued to see cabbage and avocado salad on a restaurant menu. It sounded weird so I tried it, loved it and figured out how to make it at home.

Ingredients
• 1-pound pork tenderloin
• 2 cloves garlic, minced, separated
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 1 teaspoon minced fresh ginger, separated
• 1 small bag shredded cabbage
• 1 avocado, cubed
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• Juice of 1 lime
• Honey-roasted peanuts
• 2 green onions, sliced

Preparation
Butterfly the pork tenderloin.
Mix one minced garlic clove, half of minced ginger and 1 tablespoon soy sauce and cover both sides of pork tenderloin with mixture.
Place tenderloin on broiler rack and broil about 8-10 minutes on each side, until meat is done.
Allow pork to cool, then cube.
In a salad bowl, layer cabbage mix, cubed pork and cubed avocado.
In a shaker jar, mix remaining soy sauce, ginger and garlic, plus oil and lime juice. Shake well and pour over salad.
Toss gently and top with green onion plus desired amount of honey-roasted peanuts.

Glassy sunset on the riverGlassy sunset on the riverGlassy sunset on the river

(courtesy of Sheila Cotton-Bardes) Quarter one head of iceberg lettuce;  In a wok, lightly sautée a bit of chopped garlic in high quality olive oil; Add wedges of the lettuce. It will wilt but not completely disintegrate like spinach – it keeps its crunch and bulk. Add walnuts and quality gorgonzola cheese for a moment, then a tiny, tiny gentle hit of balsamic vinegar,  sea salt and ground pepper – then dig in.