Category: Miscellany

Signs of the times

James Howard Kunstler probably coined the term “techno-narcissism.” He definitely uses it more than anyone I know. A related term is “techno-triumphalism.” I believe he uses that, too. He definitely does not think that technology is immanentizing the eschaton.

He may be understating it:

The second, Bitcoin, combines mania with techno-triumphalism. Almost nobody understands Bitcoing or Blockchain, but people are speculating in Bitcoin. One wise wag said “I know exactly what a Bitcoin is worth: one tulip bulb.” My theory that gold has no intrinsic worth (you can’t eat it, live in it or burn it for heat) commensurate with its totemistic value is similar.

Another bad signs: Mermaid academies, Abduction-for-hire services, and Designer cookie dough.

But if people couldn’t see doom in Donald Trump versus Hillary Clinton for President, they’re unlikely to see it in any of these.

* * * * *

“No man hath a velvet cross.” (Samuel Rutherford, 17th century Scotland)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

Where I glean stuff.

Integrity

                                                    But to behave like a cogwheel
When one knows one is no such thing,
Merely to add to a crowd with one’s passionate body
Is not a virtue.

(First Shepherd, The Vision of the Shepherds, part of the “Christmas Oratorio” For the Time Being, by W.H. Auden)

* * * * *

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

Where I glean stuff.

Our inhumane space fixation

This obsession with space is ridiculously adolescent. It is also vicious and inhumane, and founded upon a universally shared misapprehension.

Which is that there aren’t already aliens everywhere. We have all had close encounters of the first and second kinds and, occasionally, the third. As I write this thousands of them are shivering in doorways or under scaffolding in Manhattan and San Francisco, mumbling and screaming because they have spent years of their lives being silently urged to participate in the fiction of their own non-existence, and hundreds of thousands more are wearing MAGA hats and collapsing into ambulances in Ohio and Rhode Island and New Hampshire. I remember one from middle school, though I never once spoke to her, who smelled and wore bad clothes and had no friends; boys teased her for carrying around a Cabbage Patch doll. When she disappeared one day, no one noticed; later we learned that every afternoon after being either bullied or ignored at school she went home, where her uncle raped her.

The vastness of space is a meaningless void. The world we already have, of all things visible and invisible, is strange and mysterious and shot through with more beauty and majesty and brokenness and pain than we know how to account for, much less take care of. Let’s stop ignoring it.

(Matthew Walther, America’s alien freakout)

* * * * *

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

Where I glean stuff.

A note to my readers

I’ve perhaps mentioned that I’ve transitioned to 90%-plus retired this calendar year. Since my profession was (and remains, at <10%) the law, and since that is nicely remunerative and not body-punishing by most lights, I got a lot of “why?” questions.

My commonest answer, which was true and feels like the major reason retirement was attractive, is that I’ve had a lot of deferred gratification, with desirable activities on the back burner for about 45 years, and I’d like to move many to the front burner. Law has been my livelihood, not my life.

Among those back burner items were not more blogging (which didn’t exist 45 years ago, after all) or time on Facebook and Twitter (ditto). Among them was more physical activity. (Sedentary law practice is its own kind of body-punishing, and it’s measured in rising BMI.)

As I try to adjust to the role of retired guy, though, compulsion to blog (even just cut and paste interesting stuff) and, to a lesser extent, keep up with Facebook and Twitter have started to loom undesirably large, and are becoming habitual. I’m virtually as sedentary as ever; books go unread; weights un-lifted; laps un-swum; trails un-biked; travels untraveled; etc.

Did I mention books unread? There’s no magic in books versus bits and bytes, but books from real publishing houses undergo vetting and editing that blatherskites on the internet don’t undergo. The bits and bytes advantage is currency and the ability to cut-and-paste readily, wherein also lies their addictiveness.

It’s time, then, for a change—and soon, before compulsion and inertia become addiction.

Andrew Sullivan, a unanimous first-ballot addition to the Blogger Hall of Fame, had to go cold turkey for a while. Rod Dreher may be pushing that, too. My less radical plan for change is:

  1. Random half-baked thoughts to my private journal. (Yeah, my followers have been getting too many of those.)
  2. Rage-monkey dies a merciless death (he’s pretty near death already).
  3. Mere curation shrinks dramatically. I’m adding to my standard footer a list of favorite website links again (see last line of this), though, should you find that helpful.
  4. What remains will be a higher proportion of original thought, often prompted by something I’ll cut-and-paste or quote from books (one of those back burner things), but probably more like a few times per week rather than daily.

This has been a pleasant hobby for me, but “moderation in all things” became a nostrum for a reason. If the world can survive me cutting my law practice by 90%-plus, it can survive my cutting blogging, too.

* * * * *

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

Where I glean stuff.

Where I go gleaning

Some WordPress themes would let me put links in a sidebar, but instead of switching themes, I’ve prepared this list of places I often go on the internet and blogs I watch.

News & Commentary — the usual suspects:

Conservative sites beyond the usual suspects:

Blogs (I keep open a Feedly tab and use the Feedly app on mobile devices):

Urbanism:

Laughs:

Legalese:

Parallel universes:

 

 

I call that neat as neat

My first scoop! I have gotten an eyewitness account of Thursday’s discussions between Congressional Democrats and Republicans on one another’s sexual misbehavior:

‘You come back,’ shouted the soldier, ‘or I’ll report you!’

Who to? Not to your precious Shagrat. He won’t be captain any more!

‘I’ll give your name and number to the Nazgul,’ said the soldier lowering his voice to a hiss. ‘One of them‘s in charge at the Tower now!

The other halted, and his voice was full of fear and rage. ‘You cursed peaching sneakthief! he yelled. ‘You can’t do your job, and you can’t even stick by your own folk. Go to your filthy Shriekers, and may they freeze the flesh off you! If the enemy doesn’t get them first. They’ve done in Number One, I’ve heard, and I hope it’s true!’ The big orc, spear in hand, leapt after him. But the tracker, springing behind a stone, put an arrow in his eye as he ran up, and he fell with a crash The other ran off across the valley and disappeared.

For a while the hobbits sat in silence. At length Sam stirred. Well, I call that neat as neat,’ he said. ‘If this nice friendliness would spread about in Mordor, half our trouble would be over!

‘Quietly, Sam,’ Frodo whispered. ‘There may be others about. We have evidently had a very narrow escape, and the hunt was hotter on our tracks than we guessed. But that is the spirit of Mordor, Sam; and it has spread to every corner of it.

* * * * *

“Liberal education is concerned with the souls of men, and therefore has little or no use for machines … [it] consists in learning to listen to still and small voices and therefore in becoming deaf to loudspeakers.” (Leo Strauss)

There is no epistemological Switzerland. (Via Mars Hill Audio Journal Volume 134)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

Sunday early, 10/22/17

I’ve got a more political blog coming up later this morning, but I encountered something in my morning devotions. I quote it in full because it might appear a blank page in your browser at Sister Vassa’s site.:

“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side…” (Lk 16: 19-23)

 

The “rich man” in this parable has no name, while the “poor man” is dignified with a name, Lazarus. Why? Because Lazarus has an identity, having become himself, and self-aware, through his “hunger” that he “longed to satisfy”; that is to say, through his deficiencies. I don’t know if this will make any sense to anyone, but Lazarus has become himself through the painful recognition of, and longing for, the things he wanted, but didn’t have. Conversely, the “rich man,” who never “longed” or wanted for anything, because he “feasted sumptuously every day” of his life, never got to know himself, or to become himself, through any painful recognition of what he lacked, because he never lacked anything and just took it all for granted. That’s why he is nameless in this parable.

So today I am grateful for the things I have longed for, but was not given, because the “not” getting what I wanted has helped me understand who I am, and who I am not, in God’s eyes. I have been denied certain things and certain people that did not “fit” with me, even if I wanted them or their company, and this has, at times, been painful. But through it all, I am guided to become who I am, in God’s loving vision and purpose for me. O Lord, “lead us not into temptation,” amidst any of our wants and longings, “but deliver us” to be with You, where we are meant to be, according to Your vision and purpose.

(Emphasis added)

This adds some depth to the idea of “the deceitfulness of riches” in Christ’s Parable of the Sower, doesn’t it?

* * * * *

“Liberal education is concerned with the souls of men, and therefore has little or no use for machines … [it] consists in learning to listen to still and small voices and therefore in becoming deaf to loudspeakers.” (Leo Strauss)

There is no epistemological Switzerland. (Via Mars Hill Audio Journal Volume 134)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

50th Reunion

I spent the weekend at my 50th high school reunion.

I’m at (something of) a loss for words to describe it, but that may be because I don’t want to do kiss-and-tell, and I don’t want to generalize (at least publicly) about the 26 or more precious individuals who came (out of a class of about 60, with at least 6 having died). But I can still reflect on it for an audience only one of whom, so far as I know, was there over the weekend.

There’s an unusual reason why my reunions are such a draw for me, though they’re at a campus some three hours away: for about 40% of us, including me, it was a boarding school. And I entered at age 14. It’s a major life landmark to get that much “distance” (geographically and emotionally) from parents at that age especially. Maybe college means that to you, but it’s probably less intense because you were older.

The 50th reunion, I think, is a draw because we’re all feeling our mortality. Where in the heck did 50 years go? How can 10% of our classmates be gone already? Does anyone know how Jane died? Cal? Randy? (We knew what took Rich, Gwen and Carol.) Most of us looked pretty healthy, but one of the really rowdy and athletic young men is crippled (his own word) as a result of accidents the bade well to kill him. But he’s glad to still be here. And we were glad he made it, too; his undiagnosed ADD made him pretty unforgettable.

Ten years ago, one of our classmates was awarded alumnus of the year and I couldn’t remember him! There’s a good reason for that: he was there only 5 months, second semester senior year, and had to study constantly to compensate for his prior educational deficits. He didn’t even have time to run track, where he would have excelled.

In the world of evangelicalism, he’s our most famous classmate, but I didn’t know that, either, as I had left evangelicalism, at least equivocally, about the time he joined the little evangelical charity he turned into a huge evangelical charity. He’s the kind of guy of whom evangelicals might say “You know him?!“ Too bad the answer would need to be “sort of.”

The weekend brought testimonies of how the school changed us, including that former alum of the year. But the world has changed, too, and we’re in the middle of a continuing revolution in how devout Christians will be allowed to live in the culture. So Saturday night, some of us were huddled earnestly discussing how our grandchildren or great-grandchildren are going to survive the unfolding social revolution as Christians.

One of us, now retired from teaching, said “Classical education. Then Hillsdale, or St. Johns, or Thomas More.” I tend to agree, but would generalize: some place that has had the foresight, integrity, and private support to shun government money, and maybe even to scorn the accreditation martinets.” I could go on a little longer, too. Read The Benedict Option, and Shop Class as Soulcraft, and some of the delightful books of Joel Salatin, even — maybe this (which I’ve read) or this (which I haven’t). [UPDATE: Or anything by Wendell Berry, of course.]

I wish we’d had time to probe “why classical education” at greater depth. But I’m going to connect that to something a school leader said in my hearing Saturday morning. He is adamant about the name “Academy:”

“High school” is a made up category, born of the industrial revolution. And it’s going away.

I appreciate the vision that tacitly says “our mission is too distinctive to do exactly what other high schools are doing at the moment but with a little Jesus thrown in. The current ‘high school’ model isn’t even very healthy.” Classical education gives the tools for being a good person in any kind of society.

My alma mater is not a classical school, then or now, but with leadership like that, it has, I think, the integrity to make costly refusals of the unacceptable demands that I’m all but certain will be coming. The open question is whether the prosperous parents (who probably have big influence in the school’s leadership) will understand why the Academy cannot offer even one pinch of incense on the altar of Leviathan.

At a closing Alumni Chapel Sunday the Alumni Choir sang something that I’d never heard before:

We’re pilgrims on the journey
Of the narrow road
And those who’ve gone before us line the way
Cheering on the faithful, encouraging the weary
Their lives a stirring testament to God’s sustaining grace

Surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses
Let us run the race not only for the prize
But as those who’ve gone before us
Let us leave to those behind us
The heritage of faithfulness passed on through godly lives

CHORUS:
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
May the fire of our devotion light their way
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

After all our hopes and dreams have come and gone
And our children sift through all we’ve left behind
May the clues that they discover and the memories they uncover
Become the light that leads them to the road we each must find

REPEAT CHORUS

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

(Find us Faithful, by Steve Green)

As we rehearsed it, I thought “This is kind of a thin gruel, middle-class-American version of why my Church has icons. ‘Those who’ve gone before us’ are the great cloud of witnesses of Hebrews 11. They’re not just stories. They had faces and bodies and can be pictured. They’re worshipping with us as we worship. They’re cheering us on. I appreciate the visible reminder.”

And many of them suffered, and entered into glory, for refusing to offer that pinch of incense.

I could be wrong, but I don’t think anything that bad awaits us in the U.S. during even my grandchildren’s lives. But we’ve gotten soft. It might not need to be threat of death to trigger apostasy. It seems to me that it’s very, very likely to reduce us from middle class to a kind of dhimmitude, but under secularism, not (yet) Islam.

I remember nothing about Fox’s Book of Martyrs, the only martyrology the Academy knew back in my day, except the feeling “those dirty, murderous Catholics!” I knew nothing of the pre-Protestant heroes of the faith, Catholic and Orthodox, whose martyrologies leave one not hating their killers, but marveling at their lives and courage and how they won glory.

I’ll try to be fair to evangelicalism at its best, which I caught many glimpses of this weekend, but they need to get to know the earlier martyrs. In fact, they need to get deeper into history generally; the Church did not disappear, or become contemptible, with Constantine and until Luther.

Ultimately, they need to get into the ark that is the Orthodox Church, but the troubles may be coming sooner than that’s plausible. May God find my old friends faithful anyway.

* * * * *

“Liberal education is concerned with the souls of men, and therefore has little or no use for machines … [it] consists in learning to listen to still and small voices and therefore in becoming deaf to loudspeakers.” (Leo Strauss)

There is no epistemological Switzerland. (Via Mars Hill Audio Journal Volume 134)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.

 

A Moveable Feast

There was going to be everything that a man needed to write except to be alone.

A Moveable Feast: The Restored Edition by Ernest Hemingway, Kindle location 2298

Anything you have to bet on to get a kick isn’t worth seeing.

A Moveable Feast: The Restored Edition by Ernest Hemingway, Kindle location 885

When you were skipping meals at a time when you had given up journalism and were writing nothing that anyone in America would buy, explaining at home that you were lunching out with someone, the best place to do it was the Luxembourg gardens where you saw and smelled nothing to eat all the way from the Place de l’Observatoire to the rue de Vaugirard. There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were heightened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought it was possibly only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I thought Cézanne was probably hungry in a different way.

A Moveable Feast: The Restored Edition by Ernest Hemingway, Kindle location 997

* * * * *

“Liberal education is concerned with the souls of men, and therefore has little or no use for machines … [it] consists in learning to listen to still and small voices and therefore in becoming deaf to loudspeakers.” (Leo Strauss)

There is no epistemological Switzerland. (Via Mars Hill Audio Journal Volume 134)

Some succinct standing advice on recurring themes.