My apologies for taking so long to get part II up, but here it is. In this section, I examined any and all exceptions that Islam allows to their no-abortion policy.
With this restriction in place, are there any exceptions to the prohibition of abortion? All Muslims agree upon the point that ensoulment occurs around one-hundred and twenty days into the pregnancy. Hanafi scholars, however, whose views are predominant in Turkey, the Middle East, and Central Asia[1], “permi[t] abortion until the end of the fourth month… but [the mother] should have reasonable grounds for this act”[2]—example reasons being the presence of another child who still requires a wet nurse[3], while a majority of past Malki jurists described abortion as “completely forbidden.”[4] But even among those groups which expressly forbid abortion, all agree that it is allowed in cases where the mother’s life is put in danger because of the pregnancy —or if the pregnancy would cause difficulties prior to ensoulment, according to Ayatullah Sane’i[5]—due to the principles of the lesser of two evils[6] and the alleviation of distress[7].
John Ahern scribbles deliriously,
Some storm-tossed sailors have just landed on some coast outside Africa. They’ve just been saved from a gale sent by Juno, who has a thing with these Trojans. Venus, who has a different thing with these Trojans (Aeneas happens to be her son), comes whining to Zeus, calling him out for not keeping his promises to the poor, destitute Trojans. Not particularly worried about pandering to the special interests of lobbyists—he is a somewhat partisan figure himself—Jove consoles Venus, telling her that, in fact, the Trojans’ luck will turn. They’ll settle in Latium and someday have an empire. Bigger than anybody else’s. An imperium sine fine.
Sarah Roorda takes a stab in the dark. (And uses italics more than she should)
When you hear “Old Testament” Bible stories told (often for children, although not always), they’re often told as though they were quaint morality plays with a cute, clear-cut moral at the end. David and Goliath is about how God will back you up against your personal enemies, Esther gains courage and self-confidence, Joseph is a good boy and gets rewarded, etc. These may or may not be correct interpretations of the stories (and in the David case I would say
not on account of it being a story about Israel, and I suspect any kid that tried to apply it in a simplistic way in regard to a bully or something might get beat up), but I am doubtful that this approach is really helpful.
After all, at the end of each story in the Bible there is no general sum-up. I can just hear the song from Veggie Tales “What we have learned applies to our lives today. God has a lot to say in his book.” And in the case of Veggie Tales they will pull a verse (or half a verse) from the NT out of context and we’ve all been inspired. View Full Post
Regina Bertilson yammers obsessively,
I wrote this analytical review of the book Ender’s Shadow last fall. If John still has that ridiculous limit on words, well, Psha to him. He deserves a Psha anyways. If you haven’t read Ender’s Shadow (and/or Ender’s Game), I would recommend that you do before reading this, as I spoil a good many things in the story. If you have read the books, well, I hope this will give you more of an understanding of the book. Also, expect more analysis from me in the future. I may analyze an episode or two of Star Trek, since they provide very good material for pondering upon and discussing.
John Ahern writes,
This may be somewhat confusing, since I’ve posted on here before about Classical music being dead and Classical music really being an output of Classical Greece. Using two different definitions of the word Classical about the same issue is hard enough—here, I’m going to add a third. When I say “classical education”, I mean the liberal arts and sciences. Think Dorothy Sayers. Classical and Christian schools. That classical. This is about applying the concept of paideia to music.
Philip Hilton scribbles,
In this week of Advent, we are all reading the story of Jesus’ birth according to Luke. For some, this may inspire joy, credulity and various levels of inspiration. These chosen mortals can relive the Annunciation, and feel only what they ought to feel — the joy of the coming, the terror of the angel, the solemnity of the presence of the wise men. Unfortunately, I am rather willful, and I have been endowed with a regrettable amount of skepticism, particularly when it comes to the angelic pronouncements.
A term that’s thrown around liberally in debates about education is ‘brainwashing’.
“Home-schoolers aren’t educating their children, they’re just brainwashing them.”
“Public schools are brainwashing children into liberalism.”
“Christians should stop brainwashing children and let them choose for themselves.”
Brainwashing is clearly a bad thing, and no one wants to be accused of it. We are teaching and educating, not brainwashing.
Right?
But the question is not whether we are educating or brainwashing; but how we are brainwashing.
All education is brainwashing. It’s how humans learn: We don’t present various forms of language to infants and determine which one they want to learn– we immerse them in one (usually) and expect them to pick it up. We don’t make sure they get to see different styles of ambulation so they can choose one for themselves– we make sure they learn how to walk.
The same holds for basic education– reading, math, etc. We don’t ask; we expect every child to learn them
Most people realize this to a certain extent. And you could point out that philosophy and religion (subjects in which choices are expected by today’s standards) are distinctly different from speech, reading, writing, etc., and I’ll grant this (at least partly).
But a person cannot receive an education devoid of philosophical or religious thought; they can’t choose for themselves where they get their morals. Everyone has had their philosophy communicated to them through what their teachers chose to teach and not to teach, and how they were taught.
Humans aren’t original. We don’t come up with these things on our own; everything is either from the Father of truth, or the father of lies.
Laura Russell muses,
Sophocles’ play Philoctetes is a gripping piece: but exactly whose story does it tell? Identifying the protagonist in this complicated drama has proven a challenging task. In order to do so, I would like to first define the term “protagonist” in two subcatagories – abstract, and dramatic. These definitions clarify the roles of Philoctetes and Neoptolemus and supply a framework for the analysis of these roles. View Full Post
I sat down to write a true story I’ve had in my head nearly my whole life. Somehow, I ended up writing this instead:
I seem to have sent most of my life in sleepy little towns. Some are sleepier than others, of course, but there is still that indefinable air to them, something that makes them, and the thing that happen in them, the same. The people and the places differ in the little details, and yet it is these details which make them the same.
The hardware store in Monroe was just like any other hardware store. We didn’t know this as kids—we just liked it for its toy aisle full of farm toys, and the fact that it had enough interesting tools to keep us entertained for however long Dad was in there. And besides, the store held two great fascinations for me: a cat that lived there, and a lifesize cutout of the Maytag Man. View Full Post
Laura Russell writes,
The poem under examination can be found here: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15806
Theodore Roethke (1908 – 1963) was a prize-winning American poet, and his poem “The Storm” serves as an excellent example of his talent. The basic structure of this poem is fairly simple. It is divided into three parts: the first begins with detached images of the approaching storm; the second part extends these images and introduces a first person perspective; the third stanza chronicles the violence of the storm through this perspective. Roethke employs a plethora of poetic tools; the most prominent are grammatical structure, imagery, and sound.
