I've recently been attending Mass on a somewhat regular basis.
Don't worry, I'm not going to start shoving any religious beliefs off on you, like how Jesus walked on the water and calmed the seas and fed ten million people with a fish and a hunk of bread or how Jesus fought a grown T. rex with his bare hands on the steps of the Temple. What? Why do you think the temple's not there any more?
Oh, right. The gays probably destroyed it.
Anyway...like I said, I've been attending Mass a lot more regularly in the past few weeks. It's a nice distraction from sleeping in on Sunday mornings, plus they have recruited a lot of attractive high school girls to work as alter servers. What? The priest can't be the only one enjoying this "perk" of the job. Spread the wealth! It's what Jesus would have wanted.
So, during the Mass, there's a lot of singing. And by a lot, I mean, most of it. If it's not standing in line waiting for snacks, then it's singing. Or shaking hands. Or surreptitiously passing the collections basket to my neighbor, whistling lightly--and innocently--as I do.
One of the neater things about the songs for the Mass is that some of them are in Latin. Before I started this hobby of teaching myself a language that has fallen out of vogue, I would have just hacked my way through the songs that are in Latin. Now, however, I can entertain myself while singing about promises of a peaceful afterlife or temple mount T. rex carnage by translating the songs in Latin.
Because I can't keep this information to myself, I have to tell someone about it. Unfortunately for her, this means it's my nine-year-old daughter. As the hymn we're garbling our ways through begins winding down, I'll smack her in the shoulder and point to the words, saying something like "That means 'praise the Lord!'" or something like that. For her part, she rolls her eyes in that fantastic pre-teen way of hers and scoffs, retorting with "I know." As if she can translate Latin.
Anyway, this has inspired me for the most recent incarnation of the Latin lesson. Being that we're coming up on the holiday season, most of us will be partaking in grand feasts in which we will praise the Lord for this wonderful bounty he has provided us. Well, him and Squanto, who showed us that whole burying dead fish in the fields to fertilize the land and all. Because we couldn't eat the fish or anything. Thanks, Squants. My kids are starving now. I can't wait until September for an ear of corn.
To that end, I thought it important to perhaps give everyone a head start on prayers in Latin, since they seem to reach the Big Guy a lot faster than prayers in English (it's tedious for him to have to flip through the dictionary to translate):
Pronounced: "Lao-dah-tay doh-mee-noom, et mee-hee pair-nahm dah."
Do is the Latin verb "to give", which is used in a general sense. Dono is the verb for "give" as in giving a present (which is donum). My wife first taught me about do by singing the four principle parts of the verb: do, dare, dedi, datum. When these are said with the proper inflection, it sounds a lot like "domo arigato" from the Styx song that Cartman doesn't have to sing all the way through when he hears it. After she gave me the four principle parts of do, I hesitated a second, and then said "Mr. Roboto?" Giggling ensued.
It's not just a dead language; it's an aphrodisiac.
You might also notice that datum ("having been given") is in there, which is the root for the word "data", which are "given pieces of information". You know, the kind of stuff that Mr. Roboto spews forth.
Wow. Full circle.
Anyway, have a nice weekend. Here's to hoping that Notre Dame can beat our ugly step-brothers like...ugly stepchildren. *shudders* Mini vinum da. *glug*glug*glug*glug*glug*