Andrew Cusack

With a 60.5% turnout, here are the results of the elections for the House of Commons:

The Bloc Qu��b��cois had the advantage of a very catchy election theme.

I must admit I rather have a soft spot for Qu��bec, probably due to my general francophilia. Quebec is a nation that doesn't live up to potential and I mean this in a very different way than the Bloc Qu��b��cois probably think...

The seperatists these days, and I mean the leadership of the Bloc and Parti Qu��b��cois, are thoroughly uninspiring. Their vision for independence is ultimately self-contradictory and useless.

The main reasons one might support independence are A) cultural nationalism and B) economic opportunity. And in both regards, Qu��bec has something to gain.

A) Cultural Nationalism

Qu��bec is primarily a francophone nation which by the accident (or blessing) of being part of the British Empire was lobbed into the primarily anglophone Canadian Confederation. Curiously enough, Qu��bec was included in the Confederation, while Newfoundland was not (until 1949). Cultural nationalists are usually conservatives, as they seek to preserve their nation's culture (duh!) against cultural internationalism/globalism which is primarily liberalising. But the Bloc Qu��b��cois are not cultural conservatives; on the contrary they are pro-abortion and aren't going to complain about gay 'marriage' either. Not much in keeping with traditional Qu��b��cois values, which are traditional Catholic Christian values.

B) Economic Opportunity

The Canadian government is a tax-laden monolith. Seceding would mean the ability to end federal taxes, and roll back the welfare state that has stifled entrepreneurial spirit and encouraged oafish dependencies on l'etat. Qu��bec could become a low-tax, pro-growth haven. Because most Quebeckers have a working knowledge of both French and English they are the ideal place for brining together the economies of Western Europe, Francophone Africa, and the English-speaking world. But this is not the vision of the Bloc Qu��b��cois. They are economic leftists as well as cultural leftists, supporting the leviathan social spending that Canada might one day implode under unless reform is forthcoming (it isn't). There is a chance this would change after independence, as they would no longer have Ottawa to subsidise their misadventures.

If the Bloc Qu��b��cois woke up and smelled the proverbial coffee, then they could join with the Conservatives in a pro-life and (less importantly) pro-economic reform parliamentary bloc. Some may point out here that the Conservatives are ardently anti-seperatists, and this is true. But if dividing the Confederation is the price of saving the lives of millions of innocent children, it's a price well worth paying.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 08:20 AM | Permalink

Thanks to our Hollandic foundation, Saint Nicholas is the patron saint of New York. The Saint Nicholas Center has a great website telling you all about good Saint Nick, including this page with tips for celebrating the Saint from none other than the great Joanna Bogle.

Joanna is a brilliant woman who I had a great conversation with after her talk 'Does the Catholic Church Oppress Women?' at Canmore during Martinmas term. Mrs. Bogle (whose other half is Jamie Bogle, another UK activist who has visited St Andrews) is a no-nonsense public speaker as well as a brilliant journalist covering issues relating to ethics, conception-to-natural-death, the Church, and women, her most interesting work being on culture. I hope to purchase her Book of Feasts and Seasons sometime soon.

His feast, December 6, is also the birthday of Miss Sofie von Hauch, good friend and Scandinavian femme fatale of polyphony who will be forever remembered for bringing Latin back into our parish's liturgy at university.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 05:49 AM | Permalink

A fascinating article demonstrates how the Democrats have shot themselves in the foot over the issue of abortion. Definitely worth a read. Published in the American Spectator, available here at OpinionJournal.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 12:23 AM | Permalink

I bought a copy of France-Amerique, the international edition of Le Figaro, tonight and decided that I needed to brush up on la belle langue. I trekked up to the attic to find my old French textbook, and stumbled upon an indulgence granted by the Blessed Pope Pius XII and an Apostolic Blessing from Pope Paul VI. How random! Nonetheless, I must get on with France-Amerique.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 09:36 AM | Permalink

Tories in gowns: Mr. Stuart Paterson, Mr. Dickon Prior, Mr. Ted Brocklebank MSP, and some other Conservative & Unionist Association member. The red gowns are our undergraduate gowns. According to lore, they are red so students could be recognised going into or out of brothels and taverns, which were off-limits to students. Supposedly there is a law against wearing your gown in a pubs to prevent fuelling town-gown tensions). I doubt this is true, but the old barman in Aikman's once informed me it was and asked me to de-gown. I obliged.

The Conservative Party of Thornton-Donovan: Myself '02, faculty member Mr. Donald Johnson, and Mr. James Feddeck '01.

Nick Merrick, vegetarian Buddhist.

Sarah Silveri '04 with her brother Scott. Scott's one of the people we can hold responsible for inflicting the grievous crime against humanity that was Friends. He was one of the writers.

Nick Merrick '05 and Richard Tompkins '08. Note to self: middle school graduates look like idiots in aviators. Dagnabbed Pelhamites!

The interesting fashions of Mr. Langston Fishburne '05.

Marissa McKinney's party celebrating her graduation from the University of Massachusetts. L to R, Katie, Marissa, me, Sharon.

That typical "Yes, Dad..." look on Marissa's face. Mr. McKinney is an exceptional man, and a fellow port-drinker.

Aunt Naomi and Uncle Matt at some event in December at the Seventh Regiment Armory.

The Kate Kennedy Procession 2004! L to R: Crossbearer to Benedict XIII (me), Bishop Wardlaw (Ed Henley), Antipope Benedict XIII/Pedro de Luna (Y***** O****), Heraldic Shieldbearer to Benedict XIII (Sofie von Hauch).

The Boat Club Ball 2003. J.N. Roberts (UK) and Ezra Pierce (CA) in the back, Randall Blom (ON) and Andrew Ogletree (CT) in the front, and I'm in the middle.

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This afternoon I found this photo of Thornton-Donovan back in the day in the School's archives. The structural changes to the Main Building since then are slight but noticeable.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 04:51 PM | Permalink

Via In Pectore.

As In Pectore points out, His Grace is only 53 and the coadjutor bishop of Orlando. Why do they send the good bishops to diocese that, to a New Yorker, are seemingly arcane? I can't wait for the day we hear of Cardinal Bruskewitz, Archbishop of New York and Cardinal Chaput, Archbishop of Los Angeles. Perchance to dream. Instead they stick these folks in Nebraska and Colorado (respectively) and give New York the mindless bureaucract/enemy-of-Christ Egan whilst Los Angeles has Mahoney, the demon cardinal.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 02:17 AM | Permalink

Today I came upon this old article from the Christian Science Monitor.

Translation: Seminary studies used to be about Christianity. Now its about kayaking. With offerings like Wilderness Spirituality, is anyone surprised by a 25 percent drop in enrollment?

These seminaries have been diluting Christianity for a generation now, and when they see they have no more students left, their ingenious solution is to dilute Christianity further. Further, and faster.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 08:54 PM | Permalink

The greatest university in the world finally gets recognition in American news for granting Bob Dylan an honorary doctorate, of all things. It's only the second honorary degree he's accepted, the other being from Princeton (one of those newfangled schools here in the New World). Nonetheless, there's Sir Ken capping the new Dr. Dylan and Jim Douglas, one of the nicest people I've met, about to give him his doctoral hood. Huzzah for St Andrews. And huzzah for Dr. Bob Dylan, even though I don't like his music. Here is the AP's take on events.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 10:39 AM | Permalink

The chapel at Trinity College Hartford, designed by Philip Frohman, the architect who was primarily responsible for the National Cathedral.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 09:26 AM | Permalink

Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoy the New York Sun? It's wonderful to come home to the Great Metropolis and read a broadsheet that doesn't come off as sanctimonious and elitist (ahem, überliberal New York Times). I'm beginning to think the Sun may even be better than the Daily Telegraph. After all, I don't believe I've ever seen any articles about 'Posh and Becks' in the New York Sun.

Like the Mitre, I dare say, it has a layout that is both contemporary and traditional. (There's also a definite 1920's aura to the Sun). And most unlike the Times, it is succint, taking up only twenty-two pages to the Times's one-hundred and sixteen. Mind you, I'd be the last to complain if it expanded in size. In fact, it could do to grow to perhaps thirty-something pages. But as our old headmaster used to say, to write, you have to be pompous. You have to believe others ought to be reading what you write. And at one-hundred-sixteen pages daily that means the New York Times is one of the most pompous newspapers around. No shocker there.

Some have complained that the Sun doesn't use completely original content. Many of their obituaries are lifted from the Telegraph, which has some of the best obituaries in the world. There is a very insightful and amusing collection of thoughts from OpinionJournal.com, the online comment arm of the Wall Street Journal. The oft-printed bits from William F. Buckley, Jr. are, of course, syndicated.

But the parts that are home-grown are very good too. Though the grim visage of neo-conservatism hangs over this paper, the editorials are usually spot-on. They had an editorial yesterday which masterfully made the Secretary-General of the United Nations look like a complete nincompoop which, no doubt, he is. (I doubt anyone but Eugenio Pacelli could reach that level of international diplomacy whilst not achieving nincompoopery). Columnists Alicia Colon and that Errol Whatshisname are informative and interesting reads as well.

    So I think that were I forced to compile a list of my favourite newspapers to read, it would go something like this:

1. The New York Sun
2. The Daily Telegraph
3. The New York Observer (weekly)
4. The Scotsman (a damn fine paper)
5. The Financial Times (most likely the best newspaper in the world)

Were there room for two more: Scotland on Sunday for Gerald Warner and the New York Post for it's jagged populism. As for dead newspapers, I used to love the European in its broadsheet days.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 11:25 AM | Permalink

The Armenian Seminary of St. Nersess has begun work on a massive extension which will greatly enhance their facilities. New Rochelle's St. Nersess, in Stratton Road near Iona Prep, is the only seminary of the Armenian Apostolic Church (not in communion with Rome) that's outside Armenia. The building it currently is house in was formerly owned by William Randolph Hearst. He never actually lived in it himself, but lent it out to friends he knew would be staying in New York. A new library and chapel will be built to serve the growing institution.

Ever explorers, fellow Thorntonian Lucas de Soto and I decided to check it out one day. The people there were incredibly inviting, and quite interesting as well. We just popped in without them expecting us and we got a short tour, as well as a conversation with who we were late told is "the world's foremost expert on Armenian history." We were also offered the chance to take Armenian language classes on the cheap, an idea which I found intriguing at the time. I still wouldn't mind having a detailed knowledge of Armenian, but I'm crap with languages.

For more on St. Nersess, check out their website here.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 11:50 PM | Permalink

Well today was graduation day at good ole Thornton-Donovan. A chance to see some faces old and new. I was very pleased that the Rev. Benoit van Lesberghe's heavenly opening Invocation ended with "we make this prayer in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." [See Touchstone's Mere Comments on public prayer, and the necessity for Christians' prayers to be unmistakably Christian in nature.]

Mr. George Herbert Peabody Brokaw, a real great guy from an old Huguenot family, was the valedictorian, and Miss Kelly Ann Webster, whom I was formerly engaged to (jokingly), was salutatorian. George, Kelly, and I were in Ecclesiastical Architecture together during my final year. That was a great class during which much mischief was had by all. It was held in the La Rochelle room, which has a beautiful yellow fleur-de-lys pattern on blue carpet.

Mr. Cove turned up in his old Morgan, pink trousers, purple sunglasses, and handlebar moustache. I believe he currently has possession of a certain flask gifted to me that I have yet to receive. I am currently fostering plans for its speedy reposession.

I was very impressed by the latest issue of the School's Overlook Journal. It features a left-wing rant by Miss Antonia Cove which was ridiculous to the point of being laughable followed by a basically coherent and thought-out right-wing rant by Mr. Andrew Kagan. What I probably enjoyed most of all was Mr. David Kudlowitz's paen to limited government in his article 'Alexander Hamilton: The Notorious Forefather.' A very jolly photograph of our late president, Mr. Ronald Reagan, graced the back cover.

I do have one complaint though, and that is the universal black gowns that are enforced upon the faculty. Whilst I enjoy the general idea, no doubt some of our outstanding and respected faculty have much more interesting and formal academic dress than the generic black gowns that they find foisted upon them every June, especially given the number of doctors. I seem to recall that in the graduation exercises of 2001, the Headmaster wore his proper academic dress, but from my graduation in 2002 onwards it has been a return to the black.

It was good to be back with Mr. James Feddeck '01, Miss Sarah Silveri '04, and teacher Mrs. Robert LoAlbo. We four were the main Christian gang at Thornton. Mrs. LoAlbo is a Lauren who was rechristened 'Lenore' by our favourite Opus Dei 'whippersnapper', Mr. Steven Kane. Despite repeatedly writing Mr. Kane signed notes and handing them to him in person, he never got her first name right. The last I heard of Mr. Kane post-Thornton he was in Navarre.

Lastly, a very heartfelt congratulations to the Class of 2002. May God continue to bless them all. Sapere aude!

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 09:49 AM | Permalink

THE SCENE: The Headmaster's Office, the Thornton-Donovan School. The walls are glass-covered bookshelves with oak trim with intricate plasterwork on the ceiling. The room is full of books, paintings, artifacts from around the world. (e.g.: A carved jade chess set from Yucatan). The HEADMASTER is a grey-haired gentleman heading towards the evening of his life, seated in a comfortable chair behind his large desk. MR. CUSACK is seated in one of two seats on the other side of the desk.

HEADMASTER: Heh, watch this.

He picks up the phone, dials 4-1-1, then hits the Speakerphone function.

OPERATOR NO. 1: (aloud) City and state please?

HEADMASTER: Uh, correct!

OPERATOR NO. 1: One moment, please.

(Pause)

OPERATOR NO. 2: What listing?

HEADMASTER: Hello, I was wondering if you can help me. I'm looking for my socks.

OPERATOR NO. 2: I'm sorry, Sir?

HEADMASTER: My socks, do you have any idea where my socks are?

OPERATOR NO. 2: Sir, I have no idea where your socks are.

HEADMASTER: Well, I really need to find them.

OPERATOR NO. 2: Sir, you do realise you're paying for this call?

HEADMASTER: Not as much as I paid for those socks! I'd really like to know where they are!

OPERATOR NO. 2: Sir, I can't help you find your socks. You're paying for this call.

HEADMASTER: You should be grateful!

(Click. OPERATOR NO. 2 has disconnected.)

HEADMASTER, with shocked expression, turns to MR. CUSACK and points to phone in hand: She's not grateful.

MR. CUSACK nods approvingly.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 09:40 AM | Permalink

I have updated the Mitre's webpage to make it a bit more visually appealing. Check it out here.

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The entire movie in thirty seconds, re-enacted by bunnies: hilarity!

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One year later, in March of 1983, Reagan made his famous speech in which he called a spade a spade. The Soviet Union was "an evil empire" and "the focus of evil in the modern world."

Roger Kimball notes Anthony Lewis of the New York Times described the speech varyingly as "primitive -- the only word for it," "simplistic," "sectarian," "terribly dangerous." Anthony Lewis sitting in the comfort of Manhattan could afford to make such judgements.

Natan Sharansky couldn't:

Lech Walesa:

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 09:01 AM | Permalink

In one of those truly bizarre things that you really have to see to believe, multimillionaire "Reverend" Sun Myung Moon was crowned messiah on March 13, 2004 in the Dirksen Senate Office Building in Washington, DC. Attending the ceremony were apparently seventy-one congressmen, including two senators, dozens of ambassadors to the United States, and various other figures from the religious and political establishments of the nation. Rev. Moon runs the 'Unification Church' cult, as well as owning the faux conservative Washington Times and a number of other media outlets worldwide.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 04:32 AM | Permalink

Whilst sipping a pint of de Koninck at about 1:00am in Croxley's Beer Garden down on Avenue B in Manhattan, who did I run into but La Tuna de Derecho de Barçelona!!! Thorntonians will remember them as the group of law students from Barcelona that provided us with an evening of song and sangria in the Library way back in the fall of 2000. The funny costume, the guitars, the lively Catalonian folk tunes, it's all apparently part of the academic tradition of the universities over in Spain.

Anyhow, it was quite interesting talking to a drunken Spaniard in a perhaps seventeenth-century academic costume at such an hour. I'm pretty sure I managed to use all my nifty Spanish phrases, e.g. "Dondé esta la biblioteca?", "Me gusto los crustaceos", and "Mis pantalones estan en fuego."

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 01:36 AM | Permalink

Last Christmas, Robert Leggat received a card that "made [him] sit up with a jolt". "It was from Angus McVitie, who had been at St. Alban's a little before my time," Mr. Leggat recalls, but by pure coincidence was a member of a church he and his wife went to when they arrived in their current home. "He had recognized my OP tie, and from then onwards we met from time to time, and travelled to London to attend an OP reunion. (For the uneducation: and Old Philomathian is a former student of St Alban's).

"His card stated simply that his cancer has spread, and that he expected to be called Home in the next few weeks," Mr. Leggat writes. "He added that he had 'the privelege of an interesting and rewarding life and my Christian faith to sustain me."

As predicted, a few weeks later, Mr. McVitie did die, and his eulogy was read by Jack Wardle, who was his cousin as well as being an Old Philomathian. Here is part of it, reproduced from Mr. Leggat's website:

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On my last day in St Andrews before summer break, Michelle Romero and I were lucky enough to finagle our way into a private showing of the University's maces to the Kate Kennedy Club organized by the Head Janitor and Bedellus, Jim Douglas, M.A. It was truly amazing. The metalwork on these maces (six in total) is so intricate and beautiful.

The late R.G. Cant said that if he had to put a value to the maces, Bishop Kennedy's mace (made in 1461 in Paris) would be worth £10 million, and the mace of the Faculty of Arts would be £5 million, though in effect they are priceless. I have to admit it was nearly frightening to hold £10 million pounds in your hands.

It's such a shame that the mace for the whole of the University (furtherst left in the photo) pales in comparison to the others, especially since it is the mace used at Chapel and thus the mace used most often. Mr. Douglas told us that the rod of the Rector's mace (not pictured) is actually a broomstick painted black. Apparently, the Principal and Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Brian Lang, is going to have it replaced with a lengthened ebony rod.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 09:33 AM | Permalink

It's a tune we all know and love. And who can deny getting a bit sentimental during the scene in Casablanca when they sing it? But as all good traditionalists know, the lyrics to le Marseillaise are downright vulgar, republican, and revolutionary. So here we have reproduced the thoroughly-acceptable lyrics used in the die-hard Catholic region of la Vendée, and supposedly still sung today:

Perhaps this could be a marching tune for the annual Paris-Chartres pilgrimage?

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 09:44 PM | Permalink

An interesting story for all my fellow traditionalists.

PARIS - France laid to rest one of its most intriguing mysteries on Tuesday when it installed the tiny heart of Louis XVII - the son of beheaded king Louis XVI and queen Marie-Antoinette - in a royal crypt outside Paris.

European aristocrats were among the 2,500 people who packed into the Saint-Denis Basilica north of Paris to watch the 209-year-old heart in its crystal vase given a final burial after spending a long period as a much-traded curiosity in the wake of the French Revolution.

A 12-year-old descendant of France's former royal family, Amaury de Bourbon-Parme, handed over the heart in a formal Mass broadcast to another 1,000 people watching outside. The presiding priest, Archbishop Jean Honore, paid homage to the "lost child who knew nothing of what he was and of what he is".

Louis-Charles, the so-called "lost dauphin" who would have reigned as Louis XVII, died of tuberculosis at the age of 10 on June 8 1795 in a windowless cell in the French capital's Temple Prison, where he had been incarcerated with his parents before they were guillotined.

"This is a way to give this child-martyr, who passed away in tragic circumstances and around whom mystery swirled for more than 200 years, a proper death," said Charles-Emmanuel de Bourbon-Parme, one of Louis XVII's relatives.

(Agence France Presse)

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 05:21 PM | Permalink

I have just checked my results on the Student Portal and it turns out that I have passed every single course this term. "Big deal!" you cry? Well it is a big deal for we, the generally disinclined to work. Especially since I took one more course than usual each term this academic year to make up for the failures of my first year.

This means that I have passed my first two years of university and am now into honours. Thus, God willing, in two years time I shall be Andrew K.B. Cusack, M.A. (Hons) St Andrews.

I'd like to thank all my staff, most especially my secretary, Miss Alexandra Jennings, and my cook, Miss Jocelyn Archer, for selflessly contributing to the Cusack effort and ensuring that Candlemas Term 2004 was a resounding success.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 10:24 AM | Permalink

Check out the high altar in the brand new Church of Our Lady of Walsingham in Texas. The church was designed by HDB, formerly known as Cram and Ferguson. They are the firm responsible for the second plan for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine here in New York. (The design most completed of the three so far). A new stained glass window has since been installed behind it, and more glass is to come. Visit the Church's website here.

Posted by Andrew Cusack at 08:43 AM | Permalink

Langston Fishburne is probably one of the most fascinating people I know. He always adds that extra bit of surrealism to an everyday situation to make it extraordinary. Among his many achievements, he is the only person to have pinched Sarah Silveri's bottom on three different continents. A ballet dancer as well as a keen equestrian despite his ghastly horse allergy, Langston tells me that he has inherited my old Math textbook under the tutelage of the infamous Mr. Donald Johnson at Thornton-Donovan.

I seem to recall one day in the thoroughly uninspiring refectory of the aforementioned academy, Langston and I convinced Thomas Mills that Langston's father was known around the world as the premier builder and designer of aquariums, rather than the award-winning thespian that he actually is. Tom seemed rather upset to find out Langston's father is not, nor has ever been, an aquarium impresario.

Nevertheless, Mr. Fishburne fancies himself a writer, and we look forward to the day we shall be able to read his first novel Diary of a Nomad in print. Here follows a synopsis:

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