Trouble

Every one's boat has all the load it can carry. -this quote, in approximation, is attributed to W.E. Carleton.
Every one's problems seem large to them. We may comfort ourselves with comparison by saying, "It could be a lot worse. Just look at so and so." But, at the same time, our own problems wouldn't be problems if we could diminish them with such positive thinking.
I am reaching the point where I am beginning to view what I will call trouble (understood to include worry, stress, anxiety, mental or emotional anguish, sickness, pain, financial difficulties, etc., etc., etc.) not as a matter of comparative degrees, but as the portion allotted each of us as God sees fit, and equal to no one else's difficulty, but equal only to the measure of grace God makes available.
How bad are the chicken pox?
Seems to depend largely on whose children the pox has stricken.
The struggle of Sisyphus, the tragic Greek hero condemned by the gods to perpetually roll a boulder up a hill only to see it roll down again, may seem petty to a legend ten times his size, who, according to his greater stature, would see nothing but an ant rolling a pebble up an anthill.
And, conversely, Sisyphus might view Atlas' noble resignation as a little maudlin. Sure, he has to hold the world. But, look how big he is!
The great-grandfather I never knew must have reached a point of compassion attained by very few.
It is only natural, after all, to view human difficulties in the human. You might assume that lean, fit middle-aged gentleman driving past in the Lexus to have an obligation to be happy. But you couldn't know the deep-seated inadequacy that has driven him to success and now threatens to drive him to depression and thoughts of suicide.
It is a little defensive, in fact, the way we think of other's problems.
We hold to a standard of comparison so that we may reserve the right to be miserable about our own problems. And therefor stand in judgment of those whom we deem to be "making a mountain out of a molehill."
Case in point: It is largely held by today's adults that today's kids are spoiled and have it much easier than they did when they were kids. Granted, some things are much easier today than forty years ago. But, most children of the seventies were afforded the opportunity to be children and not miniature adults with schedules at the age of nine that would over stuff a day planner.
I am not a parent, but it seems to me that as mightily as you may attempt to spare your children some of the difficulty you faced as a child, that difficulty will only be replaced by something else.
Another problem with grading trouble is the assumption that there is a point of zero gravity.
Theoretically, if all trouble can be removed, we should then be happy. In fact, if everything is going smooth, you have an obligation to be happy!
It has been my experience in my short life that happiness (not to be confused with joy) runs in cycles and owes not a lot to actual circumstances.
Contentment, if based on this grading scale, is attainable with the absence of what we traditionally view as "trouble."
The area of the mind that houses worry abhors a vacuum. Financial worry, when removed, will be replaced by something else.
There is one answer.
The answer I run to more and more.
To the point where I think He is saying, "Why leave? Then you won't have to come back."

Back To Work

The only reason I haven't announced sooner, for those of you who remember my difficulty with my employer, that I returned to work three weeks ago, is because I have not had time to settle in my mind the benefits of my almost seven months of forced unemployment. Or, in another way of putting it, I haven't decided what God was about.
I like boxes. Moreover, I like to put things in them.
However, considering . . .

1. Both Devan and I have drawn light years closer to the Lord.
2. After being convinced that God would not, in fact, leave us begging on the street, we began to thoroughly enjoy our time together. So many Starbucks trips that Devan has earned the nickname "Peppermint Mocha", (not to be confused or even lightly associated with Peppermint Patty), Walks, talks and art museums, you know, the free stuff.
3. And a realignment of priorities. I have never been what I would call materialistic, but have always been what I would call impatient and uncomfortable with loose ends. This situation, you might know, has done wonders for that presumption.
. . . what other purpose need there have been?

Thank you all for your concern, prayers and help.

Miss Conservative USA

I, for one, am so thankful to have another fellow Christian as a spokesperson in a public arena. To think that God brought Ms. Prejean up through all those pageants and displays for just such a time as this! Not since Esther has there been such an obviously divinely appointed young woman who would, with God's help, speak the truth, mindless of the firestorm that would follow. It has been such an uplifting experience for all of us, reading about Miss Prejean's convicted stand. And now Christian parents all across America have a role model to which to refer their young daughters!
We all hope Miss California will continue her career in Christian standard-bearing.
Maybe she could star in a Mel Gibson movie.

The Spin Zone

My response to the question, Why did Obama garner 78% of the Jewish vote?

Initially, I might have responded, Yes, and why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway or why are men less emotional or at least less demonstrative than women?
But I read a piece very helpfully titled Why Are American Jews So Liberal? by a Professor Laurence D. Cooper, chairman of the department political science at Carleton College in Northfield, Minn.
I could just post the link, but in so doing, I would effectively be eliminating my middleman self from the process, and I certainly don't want to do that.
The first part of his explanation has a parallel in the American South. Up until the eighties, the Democratic Party held the South in a tight grip. Indeed, here in Kentucky, notwithstanding the presidential elections, the Democratic party still holds an inexplicable spell over some deeply religious and deeply rural parts of the state.
The prevalence of Democrats in the South, of course, dates to the 1800's, when belonging to the Democratic party was as essential to being "Southern" as believing in Christ was to being Christian. (As was being a Christian to being a Democrat. Figure that one out.)
So it is with American Jewry. The Jews of America are obviously the descendants of European Jews who were classically liberal in part as a measure of defense and a measure of reaction to European "conservatism."
This piece by Cooper was almost as instructive regarding the history of conservatism and liberalism as his explanation for Jewish liberalism.
It's necessary to point out that American conservatism is not European conservatism, especially not the Euro-cons of the nineteenth and early twentieth century. That strain of conservatism was particularly and often viciously anti-Semitic. There are several facets to this. Catholicism was obviously largely antipathetic toward Jews/Judaism. And unfortunately, Protestantism, beginning with Martin Luther, was little, if any, more sympathetic. Among the conservative dogma you'll find Luther's assertion that Jews should be driven to conversion under pain of exile or punishment. You'll find a paranoia of Jewish financial manipulation and the Jewish refusal to assimilate into other European cultures. (You'll find this concern, in fact, in a milder form even in the writing of the great G.K. Chesterton.)
Particularly ingrained in the psyche of the American Jew along with the persecution implemented by hypocritical Catholics and Protestants is the memory of the only group that, as a general whole, defended them; the humanistic left. It is a sickening miscarriage of Christianity that humanism, esteeming individual worth on its own dubious atheistic grounds, was the default protector of the hunted Jew. But too often, such is the contradictory example we provide the world.
You might think that the Holocaust, committed on ethnic grounds, and paved with the rationale of Nietzsche, would have been an effective counterbalance to the increasing secularization of the Jewish race. But then you would have to consider how Hitler is spun these days, i.e., an extreme right wing dictator who exploited racial antipathy to further his cause. What parallel is he given in recent American history? George Wallace, David Duke. Granted, Louis Farrakhan and Jeremiah Wright have said things every bit as incendiary as "segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever," but the label of racist has not been applied as often, consistently or effectively to Democratic racists and thus you have the modern association of Wallace with Hitler, while Wright and Farrakhan get off simply being tuned out when they start talking about "Jewish bloodsuckers" -Farrakhan, and "the United States of K.K.K.A." -Wright, the barely former ex Black Muslim and disciple of Louis Farrakhan, and then tuned back in when they begin spouting liberation theology.
One particularly puzzling aspect of the Jewish voting demographic is, of course, the traditional position of the GOP maintaining strong support for the nation of Israel, while the Democrats are anywhere from ambivalent to strongly condemning of anything Israel does.
Well, American Jews are not Israeli Jews. Note, for example the recent poll showing 75% of Israelis support some sort of military action against Iran whether the U.S. approves or not.
Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Rahm Emmanuel.
The point is that Israeli Jews do not have the luxury of misguided dependence on belabored diplomacy or "no pre-conditioned talks."
So, my answer, based on what I read from Cooper, to the question Why do Jews vote Democratic? is, the Republicans, once again, have made a sorry hash of salesmanship while the Democrats, aided by the larger portion of the media, have convinced another valuable demographic that the GOP is white, tight and racist.

The other portions of his explanation will have to wait.

A Christian in Obama's Court

Pundits have a hard life these days. Especially conservative pundits. While maintaining a hard line against the policies of Barack Obama, they must continue to express faith in the American public, who elected said president.
Conservative politicians must walk an even higher rope over a deeper pit. While criticizing the effect, they must be cautious not to alienate the cause. They must gain the favor of at least a certain portion of those who actually approve of President Obama's job performance.
Gallup puts Obama's 100-day approval rating at 65%. This is deemed "notable in that nearly all major demographic categories of Americans are pleased with his job performance, as evidenced by approval ratings above the majority level."
FOX fixes him at 62%. A Bloomberg poll has him at 68%.
Considering Obama garnered 52.9% of the popular vote, this means that anywhere from 10 to 16% of the folks that cast their vote for someone else didn't really mean it, or at least are being extremely credulous and forgiving, taking into consideration that, if anything, Obama has governed from a point far left of where he campaigned.
To avoid outright double-talk, in appealing to the public, the commentators and congressmen and women have come up with a party line.
The slogan struck upon by conservative pundits and pols is any number of variations on the following: The American people do not like Obama's policies, they just like Obama.
This strikes me at an odd angle. These polls are called "approval ratings", correct? The pollsters are not asking us if we think he has a cute smile or nice pecs, they are asking us if we "approve."
Now, if say half of those 6o something percent say they approve of Obama just because they think he is a nice guy, then, in addition to the other 30 some odd percent of people who do actually approve of his performance, we now have a 30% demographic that could be labeled "people who don't understand what the word 'approval' means", which is a statistic almost as frightening as the number of people who voted for him in the first place.
To be fair, considering the rock on one hand and the hard place on the other, this party line may be the only option. for pols and pundits. It's hard to win votes or enlarge audiences making speeches about how stupid everyone is. Unless you're Michael Savage, who enjoys an audience about half the size of Limbaugh.
Do you remember a blip in the ill-fated campaign of John McCain? (For that matter, do you remember John McCain?)
An advisor and supporter, one former Senator Phil Gramm made the statement that we were in a "mental recession", and that we had become "sort of a nation of whiners."
The truth contained in this statement (note I say, "truth contained in". I don't claim the statement to be 100% accurate) stung. How badly it stung can be illustrated in the fact that no one has ever heard from Gramm subsequent to those remarks, and he is, in fact, missing and presumed dead, or somewhere in Pakistan with OBL.
But I don't have a listening audience or a voter public, so I feel safe in pointing out what I see.
The American people do not, as a rule, take firm ideological positions on anything. The overwhelming majority vote on charisma, and what they think of as "competence." In other words, if the guy can get things done, as inexplicable as it seems, they don't really seem to care what things he is getting done.
So, in returning to this self-contradictory party line, where does that leave a Christian?
You got a better idea?, you may growl.
Yes.
Maybe pull that money you are donating to whatever political cause you think will change the world and fund a crisis pregnancy center with it.
When you start getting riled about Obama's destructive agenda, pray for someone, starting with Obama.
Think more about converting an acquaintance to Christianity than converting them to conservatism.
The one will eventually follow the other.

You Can't Teach a Sneetch

The First Church of Evangelicalism, now bearing a list of grievances on it's own front door, now knows what it is to be the establishment, and what it is like to bear the brunt of accusations such as hypocrisy, materialism and superficiality.
And, history being as repetitive as it is, the new Augustinian monks who nailed the updated theses on said door will soon find themselves in the same position.
For some years there has existed a polemic element in the evangelical movement. These at least have the favor of being called original. Eventually they demanded enough attention to be labeled, and post-evangelicalism became the new evangelicalism.
Various elements of the Christian music industry, frustrated pastors and astute seminary graduates began pointing out the emperor's immodesty.
Such independence could not last. The idea took a name, and began to suffer from organizational fatigue.
There is a perfect parallel in the world of rock music. In the early '90's, a rock band from Seattle called Nirvana fronted a new movement in rock music given the euphemism "grunge" rock. This in itself is ironic enough; the frustration with the "establishment" of rock, originally rock n'roll, the ultimate expression of individuality. "Grunge" became synonymous with "alternative" rock, and quickly gained a solid fan base. Sometime after the turn of the century, the worm turned again. The rebel image was fast losing its edge. Alternative accumulated such a raft of artists and such a burgeoning fan base that it was becoming, heaven forbid, commercialized and even successful. What was a rugged individualist rock fan to do? Thankfully, a new upstart birthed in the '90's emerged to become the new alternative. Indie rock, shortened from independent, stormed the college radio stations, and the "outsiders" could breathe easy again.
But there is another storm brewing. More and more and more indie rock bands. Not good, if you are one of those untold billions of music fans who love to refer to their music tastes as "eclectic."
I have heard this word invoked so many times by so many people that I am beginning to suspect fabrication. If everybody's tastes are eclectic, then who is buying all these mainstream pop albums?
At any rate, this should serve to illustrate something terribly absurd and irresistibly recurring.
More people than not like to think of themselves as the "anti-establishment." But, of course, when the percentage of the population who like to think of themselves as such rises above 49%, this becomes a problem.
In 1961, a prescient doctor wrote a parable that sticks in my mind when this concept of new newness arises.
It seems there are these unidentified creatures who live on a beach. Some of these creatures have a green star on their bellies. Some don't. The no-stars want a star. Those with "stars on thars" have more fun, like blondes. Along comes a capitalistic entrepreneur with the unlikely name of McBean. He has a machine which can duplicate the sought after stars quite nicely. The no-stars line up with their money and soon, the original stars are grumping around because they are not so special anymore. McBean, who begins to sound like some forward thinking advertising exec, invents another machine which removes stars, and markets it to the original stars. Soon, no-star becomes the new star, and so on and so forth. This continues until the stars and the no-stars, as if anyone could tell the difference any more, are flat broke and McBean leaves town a wealthy man.
The name of the book, btw, is The Sneetches, and the author went by the pen name, Dr. Seuss.
Post-evangelicals have already placed an undue burden on reform efforts by giving themselves a name.
The instant you form a "movement", your cause begins to stagger under the weight of the human element. After "movement", "organization" is just round the corner, and the wheels of reform grind slower and slower until you become an institution, hopelessly grounded by the trappings of power and politics.

A Waking Nightmare

FOXNews.com - 'Sorry' Note Left Near Texas Hit-and-Run Victim - Local News | News Articles | National News | US News

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How many times have all of us come within a hairsbreadth of what this individual experienced?
Assuming it was unintentional, empathy, if not sympathy, consumes me.
Whether it is the radio, food, cell phone or just fixation on a road side object, distractions have more than once caused me sheepishness and guilt.
Does that prevent me from muttering under my breath when someone else does it?
Alas, I confess that the immediate assumption made when I am cut off or nearly missed is a curiously angry one.
Though reconsideration often follows, my instinctive reaction is invariable and unforgiving.
The offending party is any one of the following: jerk, idiot, stupid idiot, moron, unspeakable moron, etc.
I posted a blog a looong time ago that asked the question Do automobiles cause us to channel our true nature? If that is the case, I feel I need a nice, long sabbatical in some nice Franciscan monastery.
But about this alleged hit-and-run driver; I'm sure you can imagine the fevered rationalizing.
It's a safe bet that whoever was driving the vehicle has a family. Perhaps in the shock that followed the thought process progressed along the following lines: terror, overwhelming remorse, deadly guilt, dawning fear, imagined consequences, involuntary manslaughter conviction, ten year prison term, iron bars, brutal cell mates, sobbing family members . . . . and before long, out comes the notebook and the pen.
Barring a supernatural fear of the long arm of the law, or the rare, indeed, near extinct impregnable conscience, any one of us might have written the same note on the same tear-stained paper.
The million dollar question is, in a vacuum, with no consequences, who remains after it is discovered that there is nothing to be done short of calling the morgue?

Ready?

I had been considering a certain passage of Scripture and its implications.
It grew upon my young mind, a burgeoning paradox, until it could be contained no more.
"You know that verse," I asked of my friend, Darren, "that says that the Son of Man cometh at an hour when ye think not?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it seems that everyone is expecting Him all the time. . . . . sooo, how can He return when at every hour of every day, someone, somewhere is expecting Him?"
Darren, somewhat less enamored of abstract paradoxes than I, and somewhat more enamored of common sense than I, considered this.
"Well," came his response, "You can't keep Him from coming back just by thinking about it all the time."
Whether or not he had discerned my motivation for so eagerly considering this idea I don't know, but he had effectively put his finger on it. In my insecurity at the prospect of His return, I thought I might forestall Him by expecting Him.
Imbecilic, yes, but no more than supposing that you might prevent His return by not expecting Him.
It is true enough that I have been expecting Him with varying degrees of trepidation and anticipation for twenty years or so, and others no doubt precluded my expectancy by looking for Him years before I was born.
Let's talk about this elephant. When I, and I suspect other Christians, grow a little weary of the struggle, we turn with greater eagerness to the idea of His imminent return. No less exhausted but some less resigned than Sisyphus himself, we begin to wish not that the rock might finally be laid to rest, but that the rock and the mountain might disappear and the endless task of living might be resolved at last with our final rest. It is the same desperation that prompts a dreamer, when presented with an untenable nightmare, to awake rather than confront whatever horror awaits him in the dream.
Unfortunately, the exchange of our present reality for the next is not so easily attained.
It is easy for some to conclude that considering the ulterior motive or the self-interest that Christians stand to gain by His return nullifies their objectivity.
Could it be that the convergence of world events could always, since the Ascension, have been plausibly construed to fit all the signs of His Second Coming?
It has long been the contention of the elderly that things are getting worse all the time. And I suspect their parents said the same, and theirs the same, and so on.
Historic evil does not seem so much to have inclined as it has risen and fallen and risen and fallen. There is nothing new under the sun.
However, the view that the world will grow more evil and more evil until the Abomination of Desolations cannot help but occur is no more logical than the postmillenial view of Christian socialists that contends that the world will improve until it is finally ready for the eternal reign of Christ.
No, I think that whatever evil exists in the world today compared to the evil that will saturate our world with the reign of Antichrist is analogous to the crime that rampages under a democracy compared with the organized, authorized crime that is necessary for the existence of a corrupt dictatorship.
So, to acknowledge that the world is no more evil than it was one hundred years ago, or that America is no more debauched than ancient Greece is not to place the return of Christ further in the future. It simply has no bearing on the issue.
But, in a sense, those who would prove that His return is not imminent by pointing out the sometimes over eagerness of Christians to place it soon, are no more logical than I when I thought to prevent Him by expecting Him.
Certainly, the overall cause of Christ is not helped by those who fix dates. Not only because they always turn out to be wrong, but because Christ informed us that we could not know.
But, too often, those like Joel Rosenberg who rationally point out the convergence of prophesy and events are classed with the date-fixers.
And could it not be the Father of Confusion himself who prompts people to unthinkingly blurt out date-specific predictions? The passing of those dates robs the lost of a little more dread each time.
It's no good asking if I think it might be tomorrow. The point is, it is an unavoidable event. It is fixed by the Father. Everything that happens; time, events, false predictions, saber-rattling, regime changes, elections, solar storms, Mayan calendars, Middle East tremors, whether or not these things in and of themselves signify the immediacy, they bring it closer.
The absolute uncertainty is the unsettling method of God to bring us into a state of dependence, of hopefulness, and of faithfulness.
So, as unsatisfactory as it sounds, it could be a thousand years from now, and it could be . . . . .

Michael Chicken Little Spencer

So evangelicalism is in danger of imminent collapse.
What, you haven't heard?
A former Baptist minister by the name of Michael Spencer experienced a meteoric rise to e-mortality when his January blog entry dealing with the coming deflation of evangelicalism was honed in on by the Christian Science Monitor. Within 1 day of the refurbished blog, now titled, The Coming Collapse of Evangelicalism, Matt Drudge linked it and the rest is history.
I was instantly intrigued when I saw the headline on Drudge.
The article led me then to his blog, internetmonk.com.
I've been reading ever since, and . . . my head is starting to hurt.
First, let me say that Michael Spencer is saying a lot, a LOT of good things.
He is decrying the mile width, inch depth of evangelicalism.
He disagrees with the mega-church model.
He insists that in our preoccupation with the culture war, Christians have diminished the message of the Gospel.
He is disgusted with over-emotionalism.
He points out that Christianity actually predates America and thus is not necessarily synonymous with U.S. citizenship, or patriotism.
(He scored a big point with me by pointing out the superficiality of that nice-looking young man with the year-round tan who pastors a large church in Dallas. Goes by the name Joel Osteen.)
More off-putting, he doesn't subscribe to young-earth creationism.
He does not believe that keeping the Sabbath is a New Testament requirement.
He does not believe that tithing should be taught as a ten-percent necessity.
He is sometimes unnecessarily provocative. For, example, in a post titled 25 Sort of Random Things I Do and Don't Believe, number 4 states: "I don't like or use the word inerrancy." Elsewhere he explains that he does not question Scripture, he simply dislikes the terminology.
This is the reason my head hurts.
I agree with about fifty percent of what Michael Spencer blogs.
The other fifty percent sends me scuttling for my Bible or just causes me to stop and consider why I disagree with him. His frankness is charming, his provocation is needless, but his insistence on depth and solid doctrinal foundations is what makes him truly a seismic event in evangelical culture.
So, take a couple aspirin and check it out.

Bellwether

Here in Kentucky, we are experiencing the warm-up for a 2010 election that I think will prove very interesting.
It stands to serve as a harbinger of what wilderness-exiled Republicans are going to do to stop encompassing the mountain and pass over into Canaan.
We have a Republican incumbent senator, one Jim Bunning, formerly a Hall of Fame baseball pitcher, currently the GOP counterpart to the human gaffe machine, Joe Biden.
Some of his faux pas include referring to his 2004 Democratic opponent, dark-complected Daniel Mongiardo, as looking "like one of Saddaam Hussein's sons." He also characterized the would-be Uday or Qusay as "limp-wristed."
More recently, he told an audience that Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg would likely be dead in nine months, in addition to using profanity in a press conference call.
In December of last year, the Lexington Herald-Leader reported that Bunning's non-profit foundation, appropriately titled the Jim Bunning Foundation, had given less than 25% of its proceeds to charity.
He is not known for putting in time on any particular issue in the Senate unless it is related to baseball.
He is also ranked as the second-most conservative member of the Senate, taking a back seat only to Jim DeMint.
To say that he is vulnerable is to say that McCain was not charismatic.
However, he maintains he plans to run for a third term.
Likely to jump in the race sometime next month is Kentucky State Senate President David Williams.
Williams is a Republican, but he has taken a beating from local talk-show hosts recently for acting too much like Barack Obama. Among other things, he supported a hike in Kentucky's cigarette and alcohol tax. This led Lexington talk-show host Leland Conway to refuse to allow Williams back on his show unless he first apologized to drinking, smoking Kentuckians for raising their taxes. Williams refused, and forfeited this public venue.
What pins this as such a bellwether for me is the contrast presented between Bunning, the stodgy conservative and Williams, perhaps this state's quintessential representative of a party that is seen by so many to be abandoning its principles.
What could serve to make the race more interesting still is the possible departure of Bunning from the primary.
In this event, waiting in the wings are two potential candidates.
Perhaps the most viable is Kentucky Secretary of State Trey Grayson. Grayson was an anomaly last election. He stood in a wind that blew Republican Governor Ernie Fletcher out of office with a 17% loss. Grayson won reelection by 14%.
By and large, Grayson has made no great enemies within his own party. He shrewdly neither enthusiastically endorsed nor, as many Republicans were doing that year, expressed public doubt about Governor Fletcher's chances.
But, we have another, wilder card: Rand Paul. Yes, that Paul, son of presidential candidate Ron Paul, and certainly his father's son.
Should Bunning remain in the race, his primary contest with Williams will serve to illustrate Kentuckian, and perhaps national, Republicans' appetites for traditional fare.
Will they order KFC, or go to Starbucks for a snack?
And if Bunning steps aside, we could have a 3-way between a man seen currently as a RINO, a Kentucky golden boy, or, perhaps the future of the GOP; a lean, mean conservative/libertarian cross.

Col. 2:8

Warning: This is a long one.


One accomplishment (who's counting) gained through my temporary unemployment is reading.
I read all the time, employed or not, but I have taken the time to plow through a few books that I would consider tedious when picked up for a half-hour at bedtime after a ten-hour work day.
Not to say I haven't continued the purely gratuitous reading. I more or less try to alternate escapism with literature.
For example, I rewarded myself with Stephen Lawhead after Dostoevsky. I'm not intellectual enough to regard Crime and Punishment as "hard to put down," but, considering its credentials, I considered it worth my time, especially since I have so much of it at present.
I expressed my literary goals to my dad, and he, (perhaps in an attempt to call my bluff) handed me The Life and Times of Jesus The Messiah by Edersheim.
It is a substantial book, numbering over 900 pages. I keep it beside my bed so as to make it readily available for a few pages at bedtime or, a lethal weapon against intruders in the night.
Against such a housebreaker, I have then the option of shooting him with a snub-nosed .357 magnum, or, if I deem him especially dangerous, clubbing him over the head with the five pound tome.
Anyway, in slogging through Book 1, chapter the 2nd, in which the author discusses the influence of Hellenism on Jewish thought and literature around the time of the birth of Christ, I find an especially pertinent discourse on the effect that Grecian thought had upon Judaism and Scripture itself.
(Having gotten only so far, I hope to avoid jumping to conclusions and corrupting a valid point of Edersheim's, but what he had to say spoke directly to an ongoing debate in my mind about the value of philosophy.)
Greek had become more common than Hebrew, if not in Jerusalem, then certainly in almost all other lands and cities. It became practical, then, to publish the Scripture in Greek and to expound the Scripture in Greek. And it became as impossible to divorce the Greek worship of logic from the exposition and exegeses of the Word of God as it would be to make an authentic gyro sans the cucumber sauce or lamb. For the philosophy of a culture is marbled in its language.
(Which is a distracting concept when you consider the English language. No wonder we're so confused. We incorporate almost every major language on earth.)
At first glance, especially the first glance of a Western Christian, this cannot be all bad.
We currently employ logic and reason as our first line of defense against atheism, and are accordingly heavily indebted to the Greeks for this instruction.
But, the problem arises when Edersheim notes, "When the Jew stepped out of the narrow circle which he had drawn around him,"
(It is interesting, if unnecessary, to note what the author discusses preceding this. He has spent the last page or two portraying the inherent nationalism and ethnic pride of the Jewish race. Even dispersed throughout the East and West, and even profoundly affected by the different countries throughout which they were scattered, they still maintained a fierce determination to preserve their identity as Jews.
Interesting concept, when you consider the argument over assimilation in America.)
Moving on, "-he (the Jew) was confronted on every side by Grecianism. It was in the forum, in the market, in the counting-house, in the street, in all that he saw, and in all to whom he spoke. It was refined; it was elegant; it was profound; it was supremely attractive. He might resist, but he could not push it aside. Even in resisting, he had already yielded to it. For, once open the door to the questions which it brought, if it were only to expel, or repel them, he must give up that principle of simple authority on which traditionalism as a system rested. Hellenic criticism could not so be silenced, not its searching light be extinguished by the breath of a Rabbi. If he attempted this, the truth would not only be worsted before its enemies, but suffer detriment in his own eyes. He must meet argument with argument, and that not only for those who were without, but in order to be himself quite sure of what he believed. He must be able to hold it, not only in controversy with others, where pride might bid him stand fast, but in that much more serious contest within, where a man meets the old adversary alone in the secret arena of his own mind, and has to sustain that terrible hand-to-hand fight, in which he is uncheered by outward help."
Regarding the latter portion of the passage, my parents always viewed it as indefensible to bid or forbid me something on the grounds of "Because I said so." and for that I respect them. I appreciate their respect of their own child exhibited in their willingness to defend their position with reason. Furthermore, as Americans, we will accept no edict issued on such infuriating grounds. Practically, we are all Missourians.
(And as to the very latter portion, I have had no greater arguments than those within myself.
My early Christian experience was a lonely one, as I ill-advisedly took on everyone from Darwin to Satan on the battleground of my own mind.)
But, to the point, Edersheim is showing us the dichotomy confronting Hellenistic Jews.
It is the same untenable position we are in today.
While we have, and must maintain, every political and legal right to demand that everything be weighed by logic and reason, this "show-me" mentality becomes a little questionable when applied to the question of God.
Now, Edersheim thus far has not ruled on the advisability of combining the critical thinking of the Greeks with the theology of the Jews.
In fact, he says "-there was the intellectual view of the Scriptures, their philosophical understanding, the application to them of the results of Grecian thought and criticism. It was this which was particularly Hellenistic. Apply that method, and the deeper the explorer proceeded in his search, the more would he feel himself alone, far from the outside crowd; but the brighter also would that light of criticism, which he carried, shine in the growing darkness, or, as he held it up, would the precious ore, which he laid bare, glitter and sparkle with a thousand varying hues of brilliancy."
Here we see the attraction, and admittedly, some benefits, of applying critical thinking to Scripture. Dimensions hitherto unseen are laid bare to our excited eyes. But, note the word "excited." How excited, and why? I'll return to this.
He continues, "What was Jewish, Palestinian, individual, concrete in the Scriptures, was only the outside-true in itself, but not the truth. There were depths beneath. Strip these stories of their nationalism; idealise the individual of the persons introduced, and you came upon abstract ideas and realities, true to all time and to all nations But this deep symbolism was Pythagorean; this preexistence of ideas which were the types of all outward actuality, was Platonism! Broken rays in them, but the focus of truth in the Scriptures. Yet these were (emphasis mine) rays, and could only have come from the Sun. All truth was of God; hence theirs must have been of that origin. Then were the sages of the heathen also in a sense God-taught --and God-teaching, or inspiration, was rather a question of degree than of kind!"
Now, I believe that. I do believe that "in a sense" the sages of the heathen were God-taught.
It is remarkable to note how closely Platonism and so many other philosophies resemble the teaching of Jehovah.
But there is a door opened best left shut.
When you begin to look for truth, not necessarily excluding Scripture or ignoring it, but looking for other truth in conjunction with Scripture, extreme caution is warranted; to such an extremity, in fact, that it can be ill-advised.
Because, it is so easy to unintentionally begin to ascribe more gravity to philosophy to the displacement and detriment of theology or just faith, if you will, and critical thinking will slip to the bottom and theology floats to the top like fizz. It becomes the root of our doctrine; theology then becomes the fruit or, the structure and not the foundation.
It is precisely so easy because reason is the currency in which we deal in every other aspect of our lives! And it is very difficult to maintain the preeminence of faith.
On every hand, we are challenged to justify God, to defend our faith.
And we must!
But the problem lies in defending our faith to ourselves.
Philosophy must be exploited, not trusted absolutely. It is not the original language in which our faith was written, and when we begin to translate that virtually unspeakable language into a philosophical one, it corrupts the integrity, the purity of it. It vulgarises our faith.
Yes, we must learn their language. But, we must not forget our own.
Do not assimilate to that extent where you begin to except their premise, their terms.
Now, to return to an earlier allusion, what does this new light of philosophy flung against formerly observed doctrines and concepts reveal?
Well, it might be as simple as donning 3-D eyeglasses. The concept is the same. We are given the opportunity to view old things in a new way.
You might have always just simply been told "God exists" and expected to accept it.
It is understandable, then, why it is invigorating to be able to explain this insistence with Pascal's Wager or Descartes' ruthless crucifixion of assumption.
It is rewarding and exciting to study philosophy. In the same way, it is rewarding, not quite as much for myself as other more enthusiastic scientists, to study the physical universe and see the hand of God, much as you can see the mind of God in philosophy.
But, when a biologist goes from seeing God in a flower to resting his belief in that God on the proof of design in the flower, he has put the cart before the horse. The weight of God will not rest on the stem of a flower, nor will the entire created complex universe sustain the weight of God. But God can most certainly bear the weight of it all and be not diminished for it.
It is the same when a Christian accepts the world's terms of debate in his own heart and mind and begins to justify God based on anything.
Faith is the evidence of things not seen. That "not" isn't merely incidental, it is necessary to the birth of faith. We don't get to know, based on verifiable evidence, that God exists.
The moment God lets us see, all is lost in terms of His plan of faith through Christ. We would then become shackled by evidence to serve Him.
I was struck by an epiphany reading Kant and Descartes years ago. Weary of that lonely battle that Edersheim talked about, the arrival of the reinforcements, that cavalry of philosophy tempted me to lay aside my own shield and sword and leave the battle of the mind to logic. I felt I had been given the ultimate weapon. I could now bandy words in the parlance of the provable.
Now I understand how such a concept is justifiable!
But really, I hadn't been asked to justify the concept, and as Edersheim put it, I had now given up that simple authority.
In so doing, I anthropomorphize the vessel, and endue it with the ability to ask questions of the Potter.
God can be defended by the laws of philosophy, but ultimately, He doesn't recognize the authority of our court and will not be judged by it.
To distill all of that, now, again I say, philosophy and apologetics is the language we are given to introduce God to the neophyte. And, for this reason, I heartily encourage fluency in all dialects.
But don't forget your native tongue. Speak it in your heart.

To distill it further, as Paul said "See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deception, according to the traditions of men, according to the elementary principles of the world, rather than according to Christ."
Well, you ask, mightn't you have simply quoted Paul and forgone all this?
Well, don't forget, I'm currently unemployed.

The Inevitable Sack of Athens

Democracy is the recurrent suspicion that more than half of the people are right more than half of the time. E.B. White
Since he also wrote Charlotte's Web, and Stuart Little, we may be certain Mr. White spoke this with his tongue tucked firmly in his cheek.
Garrison Keillor illustrates our sometime difficulty with democracy thusly: The trouble with a democracy is that people will often vote the wrong way when they think no one is looking.
Of course, it may be said, in a perfect world, a dictatorship would be a governmental system approaching perfection.
Taking into account the unfortunate consideration that no one immediately accessible has ever lived in such a flawless place, we are left with the consolation that democracy, as Winston Churchill put it, is the worst form of government except all those other forms which are tried from time to time.
After all, according to Reagan, even socialism boasted of two successful experiments; heaven and hell, respectively.
We will all be given, accordingly, the opportunity to see first-hand the workings of those
However, democracy is currently functioning as well as might be expected, recent election results aside.
It served Greece well, and gave the Roman empire a promising start before being sacrificed to ambition.
That is the lion's share of the problem with democracy; it is a delicate balancing act in a strong wind on a high wire strung over a bottomless pit. The gales of whimsy, mob-rule and ambition constitute a vicious cross-wind.
At the moment, we're teetering, and no amount of well-intentioned faith in "democracy" will save us if, God forbid, we're ever knocked off and fail to grab the wire on our way down.
C.S. Lewis approved of democracy not because he trusted man to govern himself, but because he distrusted the nature of man to such an extent that it becomes necessary to risk anarchy to guard against the level of evil that may be achieved while power is in the hands of one man.
At least every man is given a fighting chance.
It is a poor bargain, but it is the only one we have.
Personally, I have no great affection for democracy.
I simply much prefer it to anything else.
What I would really like is a theocracy, and am expecting our current system of government to fall to an invading benevolent Dictator at any time now.

I'm well aware that the above could be described as rambling; what the average person might accomplish on the telephone or . . . Facebook.

Mitt Romney??!

I may very well be wrong.
Perhaps the GOP may not be tracking libertarian.
Judging from the presidential straw polls at C-PAC, they must just be tracking stupid.
I confess I do not understand why favoring a certain former Massachusetts governor constitutes a fresh new direction.
Jindal, people, the word is Jindal.
Not Romney.


I feel better now.

Lighten Up

It's a sad day in America when a Hollywood producer has to be the one to point out how politically correct we've become, and how it has shriveled us.
Clint Eastwood made a very good point and it illustrates something I've always though but been afraid to say.
We are a nation of different ethnicities and all of those ethnic groups have idiosyncrasies and most of them are funny.
Perhaps part of the reason we can't close the racial divide in this country is because we can't joke about it.
Personally, that is the best way that I know of to diffuse a tense situation.
I have had many black friends and we laughed hardest when we were telling racial or ethnic jokes.
I have had not as many Hispanic friends as I would like but the issue of race was always something to laugh about, not tiptoe around.
I have had even fewer Asian friends, but about the only one that sticks in my mind was a guy I worked with at Cracker Barrel. On a busy night, I was stuck behind him in a narrow aisle.
"Chop chop." I said.
"Oh, oh," he turned, "Because I'm Asian, you say 'Chop chop."
Another time, coming up behind him I mistook him for another Asian that worked there and called him by the wrong name. He turned with a wry face, "Yeah, we all look alike, right?"
Once I was working with two black guys, Toby and Jonathan. As it happened, I was the one doing what might have been considered the easier of the three jobs. I was scanning boxes while they unloaded them.
At once, they stopped and looked at each other and said, "What's up with this? The two black guys here are doing the manual labor and the cracker is back there with his little tiny scanner."
I chuckled and said, "Get back to work." Then, in a fit of mischief, I added, "Boy."
I confess I even cringed a little when I said it but it got the desired result. Howls.
I used to have a bad habit of calling people "cotton picker" in mock anger. More than once, I inadvertently applied the label to black men. And I'm still alive.
Once shortly before Martin Luther King Day, I ran into one my sups who was black.
"I guess you and Greg (another black sup) will be taking Monday off." I prodded.
"I will," replied Donny, a former second stringer for the Miami Dolphins, "Greg just gets a half day."
Greg's skin is considerably lighter than Donny's.
My black friends like to kid us about being pigment challenged and uptight.
They're right, we are. And it's funny.
I like to think that the few friends I have that are members of a different race than I am know that I like them for who they are and their stereotypical trappings only make me like them more because we can laugh about them.
One of the funniest jokes I've ever heard actually has a Democratic source.
What do you call a black man at a Republican banquet.
The key-note speaker.
I didn't have a whole lot to say on the issue, I just thought I would take perhaps the only opportunity I'll ever have to praise a Hollywood icon.

Culture

Devan and I visited the university art museum today.
It is incumbent upon culturally engaged people to take in the sweep of artistic achievement, to appreciate properly the complexity of the human race, to feel the epic emotions that rage in each of our psyches and . . . it was free.
Now, I am no country bumpkin. I know when to clap at the symphony. Which is precisely at the point when everyone else begins to clap. At the last concert we attended, I got lost in the movements of Beethoven's sixth. I was back on the third movement, waiting for the thunder and lightning of the fourth. The movement ended and I settled in. Ah, now for the climax. I was horrified when everyone began clapping.
Uncultured swine, I snarled under my breath.
As it happened, I was the swine, or at least the uncultured one. The thunder and lightning had been some less bombastic than I was expecting. (Think of a soft summer Seattle shower, as opposed to the Oklahoma frog-strangler I was anticipating.)
But, in the interest of broadening my horizons and smoothing down my dog-eared corners, I suggested we go to the art museum.
Upon entering, we were asked if we were here to look at anything specific. I hedged. I'm accustomed to brushing off sales clerks with, "Nope, just lookin'." but is such a dodge acceptable in an art museum?
Devan, on the other hand, did not hedge and responded precisely with that retail brush-off I was avoiding.
"We're just looking around."
This surprised me, as Devan is normally somewhat cowed and intimidated in the face of the unknown; generally a real hand-wringer.
I cringed.
"Okayyy." the girl leaned across the desk with that smile she no doubt crafted for the fifth-graders on a field trip from Harlan County.
"The exhibit on this floor is a paid exhibit." The word "paid" had a curious force to it and a little shower refracted the sunlight streaming in the glass doors.
I looked around the first floor and caught sight of a work to which I could instantly relate. It shouted frustration and confusion, even anger. At a passing glance it resembled a scrambled scrawl.
The reason I could relate to it so well was because it resembled a work that I keep by the phone in the kitchen. It's on a Post-It pad. I completed the work one day when I was on the phone with the insurance agent and my pen wouldn't write. The deep swirling scratches in the yellow paper remind me of despondency on a sunny day.
This particular artist had communicated well his angst. It was even darker than mine. I felt for him.
"And," the magnanimity continued, "the upstairs exhibit is our permanent exhibit and it is free."
"Well," said I, catching Devan's free-spirited chutzpa, "that's probably where we'll want to go."
The dazzling smile did little to melt the frost from her eyes.
I grabbed Devan's hand and together we clomped up the stairs. (I wore boots, which in retrospect, may not have been the proper footwear to wear to an art museum. If I had not left my ballet slippers at home . . )
As we ascended the stairs, I began to open my mind, discarding all prejudicial preferences.
This is not a Thomas Kinkade gallery.
I did well throughout the first six or seven works, giving each the attention it deserved.
I came to a point where there hung a roughly 4'x6' frame. Glued to the canvas, covering every square inch, were straight twigs, approximately three to four inches long. They were all affixed vertically. There were slightly different shades of brown, some twigs still retained the bark.
I knew immediately what to do. I backed up several feet and let my eyes glaze over.
My aunt and uncle had a calendar like this back in '92. If you look at it long enough, something will jump out at you, like a coffee-cup, or a portrait of Abraham Lincoln.
Devan interrupted my reverie. "It's called 'Rain'." she pointed to the placard.
I studied it some more. "Yeeesss, yes, I see that!" If you looked at it long enough it became unbelievably clear. The twigs . . . . were raindrops! Somewhat elongated, somewhat solidified, somewhat brown, somewhat . . . .wooden, but raindrops nonetheless. I moved on, satisfied with my appraisal and furthermore determined never to get caught in rainstorm like that! Beethoven should've composed a movement about that rainstorm.
Further down, we came to a particularly expressive piece. It was a wide piece of canvas tacked to a framework of two-by-twos. Vertical tears ran strategically down the work, exposing the skeletal two-bys. The canvas was predominately brown and black. In large block letters, one in between each tear, was the word HA!
Instantly the spirit of the artist spoke through his work and I began laughing too.
I felt I could even discern what he was amused about! It was too hilariously funny, the mischievous nature of this artist. I could even see him laughing, head thrown back, embracing the moment as he counted the money paid him for the ripped, bespoiled canvas.
Just around the corner, I was taken aback by a stark representation. The emotions one felt gazing at this masterpiece literally ran the gamut of experience.
At first I was sobered, even saddened by the somber tone of it all; so black, so . . . . rigidly utilitarian. The rectangular work suggested a trapped man, one desperate to break free from the chains of society. It was eight feet tall and approximately six feet wide. Then I saw a touch that brought tears to my eyes, a neon EXIT sign perched at the top. What torture, what futility had this man experienced and portrayed so well in his art!
Then, I began to see another dimension to his idea. It was satire! He was displaying a bold contempt of the conformity adhered to by our capitalistic society. The triumph of his journey from incarceration to independence, futility to freedom, captivity to contempt burned a smile through the tears.
Next to this masterpiece, there was a large, clashing cacophony. A dual toned irregular rectangle thrust bluntly down into a splotched white expanse.
I sneaked a peek at the placard.
Odorless.
I sniffed.
It was, except for a little acrylic whang.
Next up, I was simply not prepared for what I saw. It was a landscape scene. Two blurry figures walked along a deserted beach. Little dot-dash-dot clouds flocked in the sky.
Here I was stumped. What a cryptic message. What dark implication lay behind the azure sky?
Then I smacked my forehead.
Devan said, "Babe, don't do that."
"Of course," I said, "He is trying to get us to see the emptiness of mere Impressionism."
"How so?"
I couldn't believe she asked.
"Well, " I explained, "just look at it! It's as plain as the nose on your face."
Her brow wrinkled. "That one?" She pointed.
It so happened the next painting was a large, bald head shaped like a thumb. A large Roman nose took center stage.
"No, no." I motioned. "Here. This ghastly beach scene. Doesn't it just send chills up your spine the way he portrays the presumption of Impressionists."
Devan shivered. I still haven't asked her whether she got it, caught a sudden draft, or was being a peasant.
I marveled at the artistic finesse and satirical wit before moving on.
Devan was gazing at a pastoral scene with trees that were grossly and crudely depicted as trees with actual branches and leaves. Moreover, there was green grass and a house.
I puzzled over this for some time before deciding that some artists just didn't get it.
Walking out of the gallery was what did it. Observing the unwashed masses of college students streaming around us I mused, After all, there are bound to be some prosaic schmo's out there who have nothing better to communicate than, than . . . natural beauty.
Bourgeoisie was the word for which I was searching.

Irreconcilable Differences

My wife and I had an argument last night.
I was attempting to appeal to her reason.
She deals with a certain problem in a haphazard fashion. Instead of starting at square one and working it out from there, leaving no unfinished details, she plunges in at the middle and begins working at it from there, leaving half of the problem unattended.
We can get to that later, she says.
But why not attend to it now? I say. And then it won't be preying on your mind.
It's not preying on my mind, says she, because I know I'll deal with it later. No sweat.
But why not do it now, I persist. There's nothing to be gained by procrastinating and nothing to be lost by seeing to the whole thing at first.
The way you see it, she stonewalled. The way I see it, it is positively manic to obsess about the possibility of failure every time you deal with a problem. I mean, how morbid is that? Do you then consider death each time you wake up in the morning? Do you calculate the odds of an aircraft engine plummeting through the roof as you drift off to sleep each night?
That's preposterous, I sputter. An errant aircraft engine I cannot control! Things beyond my control I leave to fate.
Ah, but you could- she arched her eyebrows. -you could live in a cave.
A cave.
Yes, and be relieved of the fear of death from the sky.
You're reaching, I mumble.
Not really, she answers and then hastens on, But then, if you live in the cave, there is always earthquakes.
Really, I protest.
It's perfectly logical, she continues, If every possible scenario is to be taken into account, and every precaution taken, then you will, . . .you will . . .
I will . . .
-Be extremely preoccupied, not to mention fearful and you'd likely develop an eye twitch or some sort of tic and contract high blood pressure which would doubtless kill you before the jet engine or the earthquake had the opportunity.
My way, she advances, is actually healthier.
That's a leap, that's an Evil Canievel leap, I say.
No, no it's not. And really when you think about it-
I don't think you're thinking about it.
-when you think about it, it is more responsible. Yes, and more efficient. The more you worry about unlikely possibilities, the more likely you are to neglect some necessary responsibilities. So you see the enormity of the situation. You must not obsess about everything, because too much else depends on you.
Well, here then, I could just walk across the interstate for a shortcut, and hang the traffic. I can't be bothered with it! It's obsession.
Well, now, let's don't be silly.
Me . . .ME?
Certainly, you're stretching the analogy to the breaking point. There is a greater likelihood of you being hit by traffic than not being hit by traffic walking across the interstate. There is almost zero likelihood of dying by aircraft engines. You have made quite a leap there yourself, mister.
I'm just- . . .I'm only taking your philosophy to its logical destination!
But, don't forget the original argument. You said to obsess about everything, I said you musn't obsess about everything, only big things. You must leave such small things to take care of themselves. In reality, there is a very small chance of expiring due to falling engines or earthquakes in Kentucky.
I'm temporarily speechless
Then, finally, But . . .but- we're talking about squeezing the toothpaste tube from the middle!

It's fiction. We've never argued about the toilet paper, either.

The Fountainhead

I think cautions are cheesy, for the most part, but, be forewarned that one of my points turns on a novel scene that depicts rape.


Add Glenn Beck to the list of conservatives in awe of the writings of Ayn Rand.
Reading Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis, I was made to think of Rand.
Lewis' protagonist, Ransom, has been abducted by a Professor Weston and taken to a distant planet, where he is to be given as a sacrifice to the inhabitants. Ransom escapes and finds the natives friendly and helpful. Weston, viewing the inhabitants through his own parameters of greed and gain, has misunderstood the alien intelligence to be hostile and so brought Ransom as a gift.
After escaping, Ransom becomes well-acquainted with the aliens and their comes a culmination where he and Weston are brought together before the Oyarsa (similar to an arch-angel.) In explaining his actions to the Oyarsa, Weston proudly proclaims that he is seeking the betterment of humankind, to the detriment of all other life forms, be they intelligent or no. He views Ransom as a traitor to the human race for not submitting to the fate that he had deemed necessary and being the intended sacrifice to the aliens. It was Ransom's duty, he contends, to further mankind by his own sacrifice, and furthermore, Weston sees no immorality in slaughtering all the natives of any given planet because he is making great gains for man in the process and, in all his frank pride, he tells the Oyarsa so.
The Oyarsa is puzzled by Weston's paradox and asks the professor how it is that he claims to seek the good of mankind by destroying a member of mankind. Weston curtly responds that he is a scientist and doesn't wish to be distracted by philosophical conundrums.
There are two things here that serve as a perfect foil for Ayn Rand, the patron saint of conservatives.
The first is a simple reminder that Rand held traditional philosophy in utter contempt and blamed it for most of the world's problems. It is the common scorched earth retreat of humanists to snarl at the superfluity of philosophical and moral debate.
The second contrast is more disturbing.
Weston's assertion that Ransom was obligated to submit to his fate and fulfill his role as a lesser member of the human race, and by his sacrifice further the race relates specifically to a bizarre, erotic scene in Ayn Rand's first novel, The Fountainhead. The hero of the book, Howard Roark, takes advantage of the heroine. Rape is strongly implied, and yet, the heroine, Dominique, despite thinking of it as a rape, privately recognizes that she wished it. Rand, when criticized as depicting a rape in less than its horrific domination, replied that she supposed if it were truly a rape, it was a rape by "engraved invitation." And, indeed, Dominique loves Howard Roark as a man who has simply taken possession of what was his. It has shades of the ultra-chauvinistic contention that from a woman, no means yes, and non-consensual sex occurs because the woman subconsciously agrees to it.
Besides the sickening implications for rape victims, her explanation of the incident tells more.
Rand described herself as a hero-worshipper, so it can be assumed her heroine was prey to the same adulation and despite struggling against Roark, could not but submit to the man who had a right to her because he was a superior man.
The parallel I see is obvious. Weston asserted the right of the powerful, as did Roark.
Ransom, thank God, defended his right to life. Dominique capitulated.
Now, as an integral part of her ode to humanism, this submission of one human to another may seem contradictory. But humanism ultimately seeks as its end the good of "mankind", not men.
It's code for self-advancement. Since we can be assured that secular humanism would not seek the furthering of human goals if all humans came to be subservient to a higher power, such as God Almighty, their altruistic dodge can be debunked. They seek the advancement of humanism, and are not to be convinced that the true ideals of humanity be anything other than complete authority; masters of their own destiny and captains of their own fate.
Rand believes that ultimate power lies within human control, stating that "-man's ego is the fountainhead of human progress." But, even as the individualist she was, in subjecting Dominique to the degradation of Roark, she recognized that though individual will was supreme, there must still be a hierarchy to maintain forward progress. Each individual will competing with all others, asserting their own dominance, seeking their own goals, will inevitably collide.
Now I know, or assume, that if asked to trace their propagation of Randian ideology to it's fountainhead, most of today's conservatives would deny her premise. Most of their identification with her may be strictly on the basis of her contempt for socialism and the diminution of the individual for the good of the state. But there is a sweet seduction in her premise that appeals to the individual in us. It is dangerous to laud a person and a philosophy so indiscriminately when her reason, her basis for her proposals and her philosophy was the authority of man and his ultimate power.
There's a hook in all that bait.

A Way Out of the Wilderness

Conservatives are embroiled in an identity dispute. Their time in the wilderness recently underway predictably and understandably has engendered a lot of "soul-searching", strategizing (to be definitely differentiated from "strategery") and house-cleaning. Michael Steele, the newly elected chairman of the Republican National Committee, has used some revolutionary lingo (if you're not conservative, get out of the way), and proceeded to fire every current staff member.
Pragmatism being what it is, there will be some new marketable platform, complete with one-liners, and catch phrases.
Now, this is not necessarily a prediction, since certain signs of this have already become evident; it is simply what I believe will begin to emerge from conservative think tanks and punditry over the next two years or so.
Conservatism will be increasingly displaced by libertarianism. I have mentioned the love affair that conservative thinkers have with Ayn Rand and objectivism. Libertarianism is not technically objectivism, in fact, Rand made a point of distancing herself from the libertarians of her day. But the seduction of "individualism" binds them together ideologically. Rand's worldview is exactly opposite of socialism, which is what conservatives now are drawing up as the opposition. Objectivism has the added allure of seeming very American, very independent.
Conservatives as a whole have had something of an uneasy alliance with social conservatism.
Libertarians, as a whole, have no dog in the social hunt. This determination to "keep government out of the bedroom" is what will, I believe lead to greater popularity of libertarian ideas in conservative circles. Americans, for instance, may be more pro-life than pro-abortion, but the middle truth is they are more pro-choice. In other words, they may dislike the idea of abortion, but they would dislike more the idea of a total ban on abortions.
Libertarians, by and large, are very fiscally conservative and socially, morally disinterested.
Look for more creeping libertarianism from your favorite talk show or columnist.
I believe it is coming.

The Way I See It

I reached the age of political accountability in 1992.
Prior to that election year, I possessed about as much knowledge or opinion about the subject as you might expect of a fourteen year old. I knew I was a Republican. I even vaguely remember listening to the '84 election returns. As each state came in over the radio, I wondered (without being terribly concerned) what either candidate would do with all those boats. (Radio "v"s are practically indistinguishable from "b"s, especially to a six-year-old. In '88, we held mock elections in my 5th grade class and I knew enough to vote for Bush, as did every other kid in the twenty-something member classroom, except for one Jesse Porter. He was a likable kid. I even remember speculating that no doubt his parents were pro-Dukakis, and he was simply following their lead. I, on the other hand, had come to the pro-Bush position independently and as a result of careful consideration.
It was in '92, however, that I began to take a greater, if still one-dimensional, interest in politics. This was due mostly to the growing popularity of Rush Limbaugh. I listened innocently, and became acquainted with satire, and punditry for the first time. (My repertoire of 'sixties music increased exponentially as well, as I listened to countless parodies sung by a Bill Clinton stand-in.) The race between George Bush, Sr. and Bill Clinton was the atmosphere in which my views began to form. Pres. Clinton is something of a watershed in my experience. Everything political is now measured against and compared to the reign of this polarizing politician. My 14-yr. old choice was very black and white. Clinton was the personification of everything I knew I should be against. The outcome of the election was bitter, and my adolescence was spent in political exile.
The Congressional elections of '94 added to my experience, as the fickle public issued a mandate of a different sort to the man they had elected two years before.
'96 was another distasteful experience. Being somewhat less than thrilled about the Republican nominee didn't lessen the disgust of the prospect of another Clinton term.
.2000 was predictably the dawn of a new era. Social conservatives, initially divided and generally ambivalent about the son of a tepidly conservative former president, soon came to see a firm pro-life advocate and a President clearly uncomfortable with the militant homosexual agenda. 2001 was a very brief, almost evanescent glimpse of national unity spawned by a horrific terrorist attack. Then just as quickly as it was formed, the united front dissolved, aided by the corrosive frankness of the cowboy president. The punching bag issue of the war on terror aside, the next seven years proved to be at least as politically contentious as the Clinton years.
George W. Bush, whatever else might be said of him, was a man of conviction, a man who, in his words, despised "hand wringing" or second-guessing. The poll-driven relativism of Clinton that elicited such outrage from the right in the '90's was replaced by the dead certainty of Bush, which garnered a greater response of anger from his opponents than Clinton's hair-splitting ways had from his.Historically low approval ratings, however, failed to prompt one single politically expedient decision from the lame duck, whose resolution only served to infuriate his detractors further. I remember animosity from the right during the Clinton years, but I was increasingly stunned by the nastiness of the political climate as Bush's second term rolled on.
Now, to the point of the blog, there are, certainly, a bloc of perhaps 35% who will as a matter of simple genetics vote Republican and another 35% who will vote Democratic for the same reason, but the 30% in the middle are the ones who decide the fate of the nation. Therefore, it is this 30% I will hereafter refer to as the voters.
Among other tendencies of the voting public, I seem to see a reactionary pattern, at least since Reagan. The economic prosperity and the triumph over Communism carried over into four years for Reagan's VP, but amidst a mild recession in '92, the public wanted to try something different. Eight years of Clinton bred contempt for the Democrats in 2000, so they elected the Republican, perhaps also as a conciliatory gesture toward the man they'd booted out eight years earlier. And now, once again, they wish to try something different.
A stronger tendency is the penchant for personality contests. In '92 Clinton was effused with all the youthful charismatic energy of the ghost of JFK. In '96, he'd lost some of his mystique, but whatever charm he retained was still more than a match for Bob Dole, who was seen as stiff and even angry. In 2000, Al Gore, sinking under the weight of eventual Clinton fatigue, took on more water with his unapproachable elitist anger and sank, albeit agonizingly slowly. Bush, in my opinion, was elected not on his merits or his policies. (Both of which gave him excellent credentials, for my vote) He was elected because he was more likable than Al Gore. In 2004, the early-on favorite for Democratic challenger, Howard Dean, shrieked his way right out of the campaign and left it for John Kerry to pick up. Now, one might have expected greater things from Kerry. A Democratic senator from Massachusetts, with the initials JFK, no less, not to mention beautiful hair, a coif second only to that of his running mate no doubt held more of the aura of the slain hero of Camelot than did Clinton. Not to mention that anybody, Walter Mondale, should have been able to vanquish the battered incumbent, especially given the cosmopolitan urbanity of the Vietnam Vet contrasted with the Texan National Guard pilot curmudgeon. Alas, the detachment of Kerry proved more disenchanting to the voters than Al Gore's anger, and although the election was no landslide, it was nowhere near the nail biter of four years before. The cowboy lived to fight another day.
Then, in 2008, it is almost as though the public admits that they just gave Bush another term because they felt obligated to make it up to his father. In Bush up to here, they shut the door on his party so fast that it dealt John McCain a humiliating blow on his way out. Here again, though, we have the issue of personality, more clearly defined than ever before. In the Democratic primary, the Clinton coronation collapsed under the weight of yet another Kennedy comparison. Hillary was a given before personality was weighed. For her part, Hillary gave it the college try, but she had an unshakable ex-wife shrillness. Then there was the Bill baggage. The repudiation of Hillary was in part a tacit admission of guilt on the part of the voters for their '90's dalliance with her philandering husband. Their other choice was a young, fresh face and an electrifying speaker. And in the general election, the personality choice was an easy one. Youthful energetic change in one box and old, cranky monotony in the other. Issues be hanged.
Simply, simplistically, you may feel, put, the outcome of elections are based on popularity, and these popularity contests are decided by the fence sitters, who call themselves moderate.
What that means to them one can only guess, but the result is clear. They hold no convictions on social issues, and their views on fiscal policy are negotiable and for sale to the highest promise. They hold our future in their hands for the foreseeable future; a future that if left undisturbed by a higher power, holds only more cycles and treadmills.

More Incoherence

I suppose the question left unanswered by my last blog is only troubling if you find relevance in debates concerning fairies and pin heads, or flies and holy water. I do find these questions pertinent, even if you consider "fairies" in its modern contextual slang. (I'm sure the question has arisen in theory more than once in performance rehearsals of Swan Lake or The Nutcracker.)
Seriously, the questions that we sometimes diminish as superfluous or just silly because of their abstract nature are what underpin our basic doctrines and beliefs. For example, a child's curious agnosticism may cause him to ask, "If God can do anything, can He make a rock so big He can't move it?" The average reply is a snort, but really, the question is making a specific point of God's omnipotence and exposes the ultimate inadequacy of logic when explaining the concept of God.
So, the nonexistence of objectivity I proposed naturally creates a follow-up question.
If no one can be truly objective, how can we ever be sure of finding the truth? If nobody can weigh the question without any preexisting bias, doesn't it become impossible to establish anything as the absolute truth?
You must acknowledge the beginning bias, which in turn acknowledges the precondition of instinct. From whence came your desire to believe in an Almighty or your desire to disbelieve in Him? I'm not talking about upbringing, not talking about environment. As a child, when you were first presented with an idea or statement concerning the nature of the spiritual or the material, you were predisposed, however slightly, to choose one view or the other. If you insist on the impossibility of the child totally uninfluenced by upbringing or environment, consider a hypothetical child brought up in a vacuum, say a round room, with no human interaction, sustenance delivered by automation. You would have to contend that this child, deprived of any interaction with any means of shaping his views, would be a blank slate upon reaching adulthood, and have no preferences or inclinations. (Assuming you would not propose something so ridiculous, let's move on.)
If you acknowledge an inherent predisposition, independent of any influence, you acknowledge something unexplainable. Now, if it was an evolutionary development, let us take it all the way back to the first man, or first life form in possession of reasoning capabilities. Upon what did his or its choice hinge upon? What, for instance, gave it the instinct for survival that dictated the actions of the man or organism? Don't tell me survival is simply inherent. It makes as much sense as saying that the universe has always existed in some form or another; or, that something cannot come from nothing. That statement is a monstrous inconsistency for the atheist or the theist. It protests both arguments and there is no third choice, so it is an illogical statement.
So, to sum it up, if you can bring yourself to acknowledge an intangible, truly acknowledge it and accepts its implications, you then have a point of reference and everything else can then be mapped and established.
Frank Peretti gives an excellent example in a speech in which he uses a chair for a point of reference. He asks us to imagine that we are in a round room, no corners, and completely dark. We have no concept of location or distance; completely lost. But, in our stumbling and groping, we come upon this chair. The world settles into place. We now have a point of reference, and everything makes sense.
As I said before, atheistic nihilism doesn't lend itself to sanity. Even computers have logic to operate on. To disavow any absolutes sets us adrift in the round room, and there is no chair to comfort us.
(Again, notice the inconsistency of our vocal atheists. They all protest the existence of absolutes but yet make statements that subscribe to a moral code, however oblique.)