Fun Museum Finds

Summer's winding down, but I can't bear to think about long sleeves yet. It's been too much fun hanging out in the sunshine and taking road trips to new museums. Before we pack away the sundresses and sandals for good, here are some fun images of outdoor festivity that I've seen recently. 

To start off, here are two paintings from the series Apollo and the Muses at the Cleveland Museum of Art. 

Erato, the muse of Lyric Poetry on the left, is basically Taylor Swift's spirit animal. She's all billows and curls, sitting in a romantic grove with Cupid while she literally writes with one of his arrows. I imagine this is how Swift's Wall Street Journal article was also composed. "[People] are buying only the [albums] that hit them like an arrow through the heart ... and I'd also want a nice garden."

Meanwhile check out the epic side eye Clio, the muse of History is giving her. "Are you serious girl? I'm over here writing about wars and plagues and fallen empires, and you're sitting under a billowing canopy? I hope the Persians get you with a spear." The two paintings really are displayed like this, with Apollo between them.

I'm not exactly sure what the artist Charles Meynier meant here. Clio's expression is pretty hilarious - but hey wait, is he saying female scholars are all ice cold? Does he think history is just dust and monuments? I do like the suggestion that maxi dresses and serious business can go together, though. 

Speaking of summer fashions, lest you think flower crowns are a new trend, check out this etching from the print collection of Washington's Headquarters in Morristown, NJ. George Washington is entering Trenton victorious after  crossing the Delaware River to defeat the British. The city's daughters have turned out for the parade in their best music festival apparel. 

George Washington also spent some time in Brooklyn, although he wasn't as successful there. NYC wasn't quite as built up back in the 1770s, as you can see in this 18th century map from Morristown. I love the little soldiers marching along the palisades.

See Charles Meynier, even military history isn't completely humorless.

Is Courtship Fundamentally Catholic?

The current courtship resurgence is an interesting facet of the Christian "purity culture" that has sprung up in reaction to the sexual revolution and and divorce trends of the 20th century. Joshua Harris' I Kissed Dating Goodbye came out in 1997, and its spouse-finding philosophy has been a cultural and spiritual force ever since. I was 12 when Harris burst into the scene, and his writing influenced me and my friends in our teen years. Harris' antidote to hook-up culture has been around so long that there is now some backlash as my generation assesses its results.

Recently, former courtship advocate Thomas Umstattd wrote Why Courtship Is Fundamentally Flawed, arguing that the system misinterprets scripture and does not safeguard against divorce. Even Harris himself has warned against excessive courtship legalism that makes young couples afraid to even speak to each other. For every couple whose courtship resulted in a happy marriage, there are stories of overly controlling fathers or jerk suitors who masked their toxic personalities with lip service to "biblical marriage."

On the other hand, courtship is more visible than ever, with People magazine covering the Duggars' strict courtship rules. Fundamentalist groups host "purity balls" where girls in formal dresses promise their dads that they will remain virgins until marriage. These father-daughter dances and chastity pledges have garnered much media attention for being "like a wedding, except to your dad."

Swedish photographer David Magnusson's exhibit of father-daughter purity ball portraits is one recent example of courtship in the spotlight. Documenting families in Louisiana, Texas, Colorado and Arizona, he photographed fathers and daughters near their homes in their ceremony clothes. Portraits were done in the early morning, with subjects choosing their poses “in the light of the decisions you have made.” Magnusson's purpose isn't just curiosity, but cultural analysis. "I wanted to create portraits that were beautiful; images that the girls and their fathers would like to see hanging on their walls at home, while someone from another cultural background might experience the very same portraits in an entirely different way."

Pierce and Jasmine Nunley, Grand Cane, Louisiana.
By David Magnusson

At first, the portraits are off-putting. Seeing a gallery of grown men embracing young girls in wedding-like dresses feels really creepy. It's like an incestuous combo of a quincenera or debutante ball. But when you look closer, each pair has unique expressions of their relationship and motivations. You can see determination, courage, tenderness, trust, and protection. Magnusson has successfully worked with his subjects to create a complex work of art.

The Catholic Church doesn't have official dating policies, so the way Catholics view courtship is not unlike the possible reactions to Magnusson's portraits. Some people cringe at the strict rules, some find inspiration to create more boundaries in their dating life, and others are enchanted by the promise of purity and parental love. There's no one best way for finding your spouse, but Catholics should be careful to examine the theology of courtship more closely. Some weird idolatry can lurk under the surface.

To many, the concept of courtship is just shorthand for "pursuing an exclusive, chaste relationship with the intention of discerning marriage while consulting parental wisdom." At its most strict and biblically literal, though, courtship regards marriage as the transfer of a woman from her father's authority to her husband's. A father's permission is required for both courtship and marriage because he has the final say over his daughter's life. By doing so he reflects the role of God the Father giving Eve to Adam in Eden. The will of the dad is the will of God.

Frankly, my brothers and sisters, that is wack. Here are a few reasons why such scrupulosity isn't compatible with Catholicism.

Scripture does not depict strict courtship as mandatory or foolproof. As Umstattd points out, "Just because Jacob had two wives and a seven-year engagement does not mean that God wants all men to have two wives and seven-year engagements." In fact, Rachel and Leah's father abuses his authority to cheat Jacob. In the Book of Tobit, Sarah's father approves her marriage to seven different husbands, but each one ends in disaster anyway. Ruth bypasses courtship by pursuing Boaz, while Esther is sent to the king's harem against her male guardian's will.

The lives of the Saints don't embrace this type of parental control; in fact they often defy it. There are so many examples of holy women whose fathers opposed their desire for a life of celibacy. St. Catherine of Siena even chopped off her hair to keep her parents from marrying her off. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states, "Parents should respect [a child's call to the religious life] and encourage their children to follow it. They must be convinced that the first vocation of the Christian is to follow Jesus." (CCC 2232) Did Mary ask her dad's permission before she agreed to bear the Messiah? Nope, she said yes and then ran off to consult her female relative instead.

The Church teaches that girls should be taught "the right use of their reason and freedom," not protected from the world at all costs. (2228) At baptism, parents make promises of faith on behalf of their kids, but from then on children must cooperate with God's grace on their own. Elders can and should offer and advice and guidance, but your vocation is ultimately between you and God. As the Catechism states:

"Obedience towards parents ceases with the emancipation of the children; not so respect, which is always owed to them ... When they become adults, children have the right and duty to choose their profession and state in life. They should assume their new responsibilities within a trusting relationship with their parents, willingly receiving their advice and counsel. Parents should be careful not to exert pressure on their children either in the choice of a profession or in that of a spouse." (2217 & 2230)

The rite for the sacrament of marriage does not ask the father of the bride to "give this woman," a patriarchal moment that courtship fundamentalists often cite. The father does not take the place of God; we already have ordained priests to act in persona christi. In fact, the couple themselves are the ministers of the sacrament of marriage. "The Church holds the exchange of consent between the spouses to be the indispensable element that 'makes the marriage.'" (1627) Their covenant reflects the wedding feast of the Lamb in heaven, where the victory of Christ the new Adam is complete. 

Even though it appears charmingly old-fashioned and wholesome, strict courtship is neither a magic bullet against sin nor an oracle of God's will. If you need a framework of bureaucratic oversight and final veto power to prevent your daughter from making a bad choice in marriage, then her adult conscience is poorly formed.This doesn't mean that fathers don't have a role in their daughters' choice of a husband. Good male role models are essential to help a girl learn what to look for in a spouse.

I'm grateful for my own dad's example as a smart, generous, hardworking, tender-hearted husband and father. He's one of the people I admire most in the world, and I respect his opinion. I know if I had dated a guy who was a jerk, my dad would have told me his concerns. But after spending the first 18 years under the care of a man who loved me selflessly, why would I settle for anything less in my adult life?

One of my favorite memories of my dad is how he put up with my shy temperament as a little girl. I was too scared to enter school alone, so he would walk with  me to my 1st grade classroom every morning. He knew this couldn't go on forever, though, and he kept encouraging me to have confidence. "Maybe today I can walk with you just until the lobby tile ends, how about that?" he'd say. He took good care of me, but knew part of that care was teaching me to walk out on my own.

Of Museums, Monsters, And Men

Last week my cousin got married in Chicago, so we road tripped back to the Midwestern motherland for a family reunion. Along the way we found lots of cool history nerd places to visit, including thefor a Field Museum, which has great lakefront views, and the Cleveland Museum of Art, which has a gorgeous building and amazing new interactive technology displays. If you're ever driving through Ohio it's definitely worth a stop!


As I walked through halls of dinosaurs, ancient artifacts, and taxidermy specimens, verses from the Book of Job kept floating through my mind. Somewhere in Pennsylvania I had read its last few chapters aloud as part of the Office of Readings. Have you ever read the whole story of Job? It's way crazier than the usual summary of "Man loses everything but trusts God." There are pages and pages of esoteric speeches about the meaning of life while Job's knucklehead friends tell him he's suffering because of his sins. Finally God speaks and shuts up those morons. He tells Job to "Gird up your loins now, like a man," and then, frankly, He gets a little sarcastic. (In the King James translation Chapter 38 sounds like a string of Shakespearean insults.) Basically He's got a lot on his plate and you don't even know the half of what His job entails.

Have you ever in your lifetime commanded the morning and shown the dawn its place
For taking hold of the ends of the earth, till the wicked are shaken from it? ...
Have you comprehended the breadth of the earth? Tell me, if you know all...
Has the rain a father; or who has begotten the drops of dew?
Out of whose womb comes the ice, and who gives the hoarfrost its birth in the skies? 

Seriously, God is busier than Mufasa.

Do you hunt the prey for the lioness or appease the hunger of her cubs
While they crouch in their dens or lie in wait in the thicket?

Mountain goats, ostriches, wild oxen and asses, hawks, and noble steeds - God directs them all. He even created some mammoth monsters.

Behemoth "carries his tail like a cedar; the sinews of his thighs are like cables. 
His bones are like tubes of bronze; his frame is like iron rods."

Sue the T. Rex, Field Museum

When Leviathan "rises up, the mighty are afraid; the waves of the sea fall back ...
He regards iron as straw, and bronze as rotten wood ...
Who can force open the doors of his mouth, close to his terrible teeth?

Jonah Cast Up, 3rd Century, Cleveland Museum of Art

I'm still pondering what God's speech to Job exactly means. Its purpose is to debunk the loser friends' claim that Job's sufferings are punishment for his sins. So what is the real reason? Are our human problems puny compared to the wide cosmic actions of the universe? Should we trust that God is in control because He makes the sun rise and set every day? Or is the world so vast and mysterious that we can never fully understand why things happen the way they do?

Either way, it's clear that humanity has been marveling at the power of nature since the world began. Pondering these things is part of who we are. And honestly, I've found some comfort in thinking about those mountain goats crouching down in the desert and the "storehouses of the snow."

An Open Letter to the Archdiocese of New York About Holy Innocents

Dear Cardinal Dolan,

Greetings in Christ! Like you, I am a transplant to the NYC area with Midwestern roots. It was an honor to attend the young adult Mass you celebrated at St. Patrick's Cathedral last December. Your joyful witness to our Catholic faith is such an inspiration.

It's come to my attention that the Archdiocese of New York is considering closing several churches. It's always a shame to see a parish go, but I get it. Neighborhood demographics change, and we're no longer in an era where multiple ethnic parishes need to co-exist within blocks of each other. Urban dioceses now find themselves with more real estate than they can handle. New York is an old city full of historic buildings, but it's also constantly evolving.

Among the parishes under consideration for closure is Holy Innocents on West 37th Street. Its closure would be a great loss to the spiritual life of the this city and a regrettable mistake.

The parish entrance on West 37th. 

I've gotten to know the parishes of Midtown West because of my daily commute from New Jersey to Brooklyn through Penn Station. Once Penn was a magnificent landmark, a beautiful space carefully designed by a famous architect. But Manhattan changed, as it always does, and the old Penn was deemed unnecessary. You know the rest - good design was demolished and replaced with a smaller dungeon. Today that unnecessary, beautiful old station is sorely missed and needed. The new Penn is too overcrowded to meet commuters' needs, let alone elevate their daily lives.

When I get weary from spending two hours a day in crowded underground metal boxes, I know there are refuges of peace and grace not far away. At first glance, consolidating the parishes of Midtown West might seem like an obvious practical move. There are three churches within five blocks of Penn Station, an embarrassment of religious riches. The largest of these, St. Francis, offers an impressive array of sacrament times and ministries, seemingly enough to serve the area. Both St. Francis and Holy Innocents have been godsends on bad days. St. Francis is like the department store of sacraments - it's big, convenient, and offers a wide selection to suit your needs. Mass, adoration, and confession happen nonstop during rush hour. I'm eternally grateful for the kind wisdom offered by Franciscan friars willing to get up early so we can sleepily stare each other down in a confessional at 8am.

If St. Francis is Macy's, Holy Innocents is an independent boutique. Its building is smaller and more intimate, marked by a small neon cross peeking out between wholesale clothing shops and a kosher falafel/shwarma place. It has fewer Mass times, but what it does offer is superb. The reverent liturgies there are exquisite and even better, accessible. Attend any of their Latin masses, and you'll see everyone from commuters in business attire to the kid in a plastic vest who was hawking tour bus tickets outside. Getting to know the extraordinary form of the Mass can be challenging. To us born after Vatican II, this part of our Catholic heritage feels like a foreign country. Holy Innocents makes our liturgical patrimony feel one of the rich cultural experiences available here in NYC, ready for new explorers to dive right in. At other homes of the EF I've felt like an outsider, but at Holy Innocents I've only found a warm welcome with humility, not snobbery. 

The Constantino Brumidi mural at Holy Innocents

The EF Mass could happen at any parish, but there are two more reasons not to close this gem of a church.

1. Closing Holy Innocents would mean the loss of an important artist's work. The mural behind the altar is an historic fresco by Constantino Brumidi, the same Italian immigrant who decorated the rotunda of the US Capitol building in the 1860s. Brumidi is so significant, he posthumously received the Congressional Medal of Honor in 2012. He left Italy because he was on the outs with Pope Gregory XVI, so a painting he did for the Church is an ironic rarity. Much as I love the Apotheosis of Washington, the sacrifice of Calvary is even more valuable. The parish has already invested a good deal of time and money to restore the mural's original brilliance. The scaffolding currently surrounding St. Patrick's Cathedral demonstrates the Archdiocese's commitment to historic preservation, so I know the Church can continue to keep up with the federal government in promotion of great art.

Brumidi's Apotheosis of Washington mural in the Capitol rotunda
(Via Architect of the Capitol)

2.  On a more practical note, Midtown West is just too crowded for just one parish. The soon-to-open 7 subway line extension and Hudson Yards redevelopment are only going to bring more traffic to the West Side. (My job involves transit news, so I have subway construction on the brain.) If there's a Duane Reade every ten feet in this town, surely one busy neighborhood can handle multiple churches.

For example, on Good Friday my husband and I initially planned to attend the 3 pm liturgy at St. Francis since it was earlier than other nearby offerings. Arriving at 2:45, we found It was already standing room only with packed aisles. So we walked up six blocks to the 3:30 at Holy Innocents, which was also well attended. If St. Francis is that busy now, imagine the crowds with two more parishes' worth of attendees. 

Please, don't make the same mistake the railroads did with Penn Station. Holy Innocents is cherished now and elevates the lives of many New Yorkers. It may be even more needed in the future.

God bless,
Sarah D. 

Happy Pentecost

Gian Jacopo Caraglio after Raphael, Pentecost, 
National Gallery of Art, Ailsa Mellon Bruce Fund 1972.34.3

Since I was analyzing Florence + The Machine lyric at Eastertime, here's her song "Between Two Lungs." It always reminds me of the life-giving breath of the Holy Spirit. May our souls be filled with His grace and gifts today. (Don't you just love how Confirmation comes with a clearly itimized list of powers?)

Gone are the days of begging,

The days of theft.

No more gasping for a breath.

The air has filled me head to toe

And I can see the ground far below. 

I have this breath and I hold it tight

And I keep in my chest with all my might.

I pray to God this breath will last as I gasp...

St. Joseph the Worker

Teaching young Jesus how not to lose a finger to a plane.

Today is the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. This is a young saint day, established by Pope Pius XII in 1955 in response to Communist "May Day" celebrations. Other countries still observe May Day/International Worker's Day. (This includes my Romanian colleagues, lucky ducks.) Dear St. Joseph really does deserve extra days dedicated to his awesomeness. His wife has about a bazillion, after all. His vocation as spouse, parent, and laborer is something anyone can relate to.

Those are some legit clamps on that work bench. Source. 

I really could use some help in the labor department these days, since I'm still an underemployed twenty-something. The museum of my dreams liked me a lot, but decided to hire a good friend of mine instead. This one hurts. I hope that place and I can "still be friends," but this does feel an awful lot like a prom love triangle. To top it off, my awesome temp job is finally ending.

I feel terribly adrift, but really this change is the best thing to happen in a while. It's time for something new. Despite all the uncertainty, I have a feeling that God wouldn't let me lose my job unless He had something better in store. Guess I'll fire up the novenas again.

By John Collier. Via Terry Nelson at Abbey Roads. 

Last weekend I went to confession at a nearby church named for Jesus' foster father. As I knelt before his statue, I looked up and noticed the hatchet in Joseph's hands. And realized I'm an idiot.

Who better to ask for help in my job search than the patron saint of workers? Wouldn't Joseph love to examine some historic furniture with me? I'm sure he'd be great at identifying wood types or tool marks. Did he, like me, make a mess of things the first time he tried to use a gouge? Did he sneeze from all the wood shavings in his nose? I wonder what he would have thought of Thomas Chippendale's Director.

I tried some planing in Colonial Williamsburg last year. Photo courtesy of JRG. 

So St. Joseph the Worker, please pray for me to find a job. And pray for everyone adrift in this messy economy of ours, whether they are new graduates or old veterans hoping to retire. Remind us that no work is pointless if it's done for God.

Florence + The Machine + Divine Mercy

Somewhere in between thesis chapters I got hooked on the ethereal power-ballads of Florence + The Machine last year. Florence Welch's lyrics get more interesting with each listen. In particular, the song "Blinding" from her first album can have several different interpretations. At first glance, it's about a girl realizing she needs to break free of a toxic relationship. But one line tipped me off that it could also reference Mary Magdalene on Easter Sunday.

 "No more dreaming of the dead, as if Death itself was undone.

No more crying like a crow, for a boy, for a body in a garden" 

Noli Me Tangere, Lambert Sustris, late 16th century

In the song, realization of truth overwhelms the subject both emotionally and physically.

Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids

Shaking through my skull, through my bones, and down through my ribs.

Like a repentant sinner freed from the seven demons that plagued her, the song's subject has rejected her past ways forever.

No more dreaming like a girl, so in love with the wrong one...

And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack

All the world was waking, I never could go back. 

Mary Magdalene's encounter with Jesus, both during the thunderstorm at the foot of the Cross and then at His Resurrection in a garden, gave her the strength to change her life and brought her into a new reality of redemption.

Noli Me Tangere, Martin Schongauer, 15th century

Their meeting on Easter Sunday is one of the most poignant scenes in literature. Her heartbreak, confusion, and final joyful surprise get me every time. Jesus' line of "Woman, why do you weep?" is so succinct and compassionate. He doesn't tell her she's wrong or that she should shut up and stop crying. Instead, he gently reveals the redemptive truth that things are better than they seem. Those words were a great comfort to me on one spiritually difficult day in my teens, and they still are.

This is how I imagine Divine Mercy working. We come to God contrite, sorrowful, and He saves and forgives us with great Love. In the past year I've lost sight of that somewhat. I've let discouragement over my job search wear me down, and I've listened to the lying voices that tell me I'll never be good enough, that I have accomplished pathetically little in my 27 years, that God has forsaken me and the people I love. That is not the truth, and I have been slowing waking up to the reality that God's plan is always good, even if it's not my own.

Continuing my novena addiction, I prayed the Divine Mercy novena this past week. On day 4 I got an interview with one of my favorite museums, and on day 9 another company asked to interview me.I don't deserve it, but God has been very merciful, and I feel rich in Faith, Hope and Love.

Wounded

I am forgotten like the unremembered dead; I am like a dish that is broken. 
Psalm 31 

"The 5 Wounds of Our Lord" from The Glossary of Ecclesiastical Ornament &Costume
by A.W.N. Pugin, 1844. March "Print of the Month" at the Victoria and Albert Museum. 

 My life is like a broken bowl,
 A broken bowl that cannot hold 
One drop of water for my soul 
Or cordial in the searching cold; 
Cast in the fire the perish’d thing; 
Melt and remould it, till it be 
A royal cup for Him, my King: 
O Jesus, drink of me.

"A Better Resurrection" - Christina Rosetti

I can see your halo, halo, halo

The Calling of St. Matthew; Caravaggio; 1599-1600; San Luigi dei Francesi, Rome

Today is the day to think about All the Saints, and I am reflecting on the many patrons to whom I owe thanks, some old and some new.

St. Jude and St. Therese have been unexpected novena friends. Today I realized that St. Matthew is the patron of accountants, and thus my pal now too. I always loved his conversion story.

Then there are the English martyrs that The Beau has been researching, like priest and poet Robert Southwell. Blessed John Henry Newman is more connected to my own "scholarship," and their spiritual descendant.

And then of course the strong women whose names I share. St. Philomena, the idealistic and brave teenager whom I claimed in Confirmation. Sarah, the patriarch's wife who laughed when God told her His plans. I like to think she regretted her hard-headed mistakes.

Also the Elizabeths - a queen of Hungary and an Episcopalian convert. Ms. Bayley Seton and I should be better friends - she lived in the early republic! She was a Vincentian! My high school is named for her! She's totally historically significant! Elizabeth Ann, please pray for your fellow American down here.

Since I'm a historian, the Communion of Saints is one of my favorite Catholic concepts ever. Those who went before us are not just words on a page - they're alive! We can talk to them, they can help us out just as if they lived down the street and sat a few pews over at Sunday Mass. There is such a tangible sense of power knowing I can make personal connections with the past.

All you holy men and women, pray for us. 

Evelyn Waugh blog alert!

As I have mentioned on this blog before, I like Evelyn Waugh's writing. A lot. A crotchety, snarky English convert to Catholicism, he alternates between withering criticism of modern society and flowery episodes of spellbinding beauty. 


I'm always excited to find Waugh devotees online - there are even some other blogs with Brideshead Revisited as their namesake! 


The Black Cordelias ( "Send five bob and ask your friends to do the same.")  cites young Cordelia's hilarious enthusiasm for sponsoring babies in the foreign missions. Kudos to this blog's group of authors for finding such adorable pictures of kids in nun costumes.


Sacred Monkeys of the Vatican is a lovely collection of "The Strange, the Random, and the Beautiful." Its author gets a million bonus points for mentioning Cordelia's pranking of half-hearted convert Rex Mottram. That poor unsuspecting Canadian. Teenage little sisters make the worst RCIA instructors.


Earlier this week Why I am A Catholic posted about the convert's prayer in Helena, one of Waugh's loveliest but more obscure works. In that passage, recently-baptized St. Helen prays to the Magi, reflecting on how she and they were late-arriving pilgrims. 


Another of my favorite passages in Helena is her exchange with the peddler who helps her locate the true Cross. (There are some unfortunate twinges of "wandering Jew" anti-Semitism in that character, but that's another story.) Their discussion of relics and kitsch is so marvelously full of material culture. (Emphasis mine.)

"'How I see it, this new religion of the Galilean may be in for quite a run. A religion starts, no one knows how. Soon, you get holy men and holy places springing up everywhere, old shrines change their names, there's apparitions and pilgrimages. There'll be ladies wanting other things besides the cross. All one wants is to get the thing started properly. One wants a few genuine relics in thoroughly respectable hands. Then everyone else will follow. There won't be enough genuine stuff to meet the demand. That will be my turn. I shall get paid. I wouldn't take anything from you now, lady. Glad to see you have the cross. It won't cost you a thing.' 

Helena listened and in her mind saw, clear as all else on that brilliant timeless morning, what was in store. She saw the sanctuaries of Christendom become a fair ground, stalls hung with beads and medals, substances yet unknown pressed into sacred emblems; heard a chatter of haggling in tongues yet unspoken. She saw the treasuries of the Church filled with forgeries and impostures. She saw Christians fighting and stealing to get possession of trash. She saw all this, considered it and said:'It's a stiff price'; and then: 'Show me the cross.'"

Excessive materialism is the ironic flipside of a faith steeped in sensory beauty and physical reminders of the divine. If there are beautiful cathedrals, there can also be glow-in-the-dark Jesus ashtrays, crusaders bickering over bones of saints, and near hoarder-levels of holy card collecting. But is tangible connection to God worth with risk? Oh yeah. 

A star spangled hunk of patriotic kitsch

That's right, it's George Washington vs. Bengal Tiger... in a hurricane. This is pretty much made of win.