Man Was Not Meant to Think Alone

I’ve long been struck by the philosophical and theological sundering of man from other men that began in the 16th century. Since ideas matter, as Sola anything and Cartesian navel-gazing replaced living tradition and the Question method and, indeed, the very notion of a ‘school’ of thought, these bad ideas have also resulted in the physical separation of people from each other.

You need people, lots of people, for there to be traditions. You need people, generally a good number of people, to have a school of thought. Neither traditions nor schools of thought are created and maintained through correspondence or Twitter. Real, often obnoxious, people rubbing elbows make them and keep them alive. In the case of Sacred Traditions, those people included the Person of Jesus and His apostles and disciples, and their disciples down to the present day; schools of thought, at least until that fateful 16th century, were formed, developed and reinforced by actual scholars, often in actual physical proximity to each other in actual physical schools, arguing, yelling and occasionally knifing each other (1). It may not have always been pretty, but, boy, you can’t get any more human than that!

In the early 1500s, Luther declares his ‘Alones’ shifting the standard of religious study  from monasteries, which, despite the ‘mono’ in the name, were gatherings of men, to the lone plowboy reading the Bible all on his lonesome. Sure, that plowboy might benefit from talking with others, but in theory, all he needs for spiritual enlightenment is the Good Book and the ability to read it.

In 1630, Descartes goes to his room, pulls the curtains and writes his Meditations, shifting the process of philosophy from what men can figure out by interacting with the world around them – most particularly, interacting with the *people* around them – to what a man such as Descartes, Hume, Berkeley or Kant can figure out in the privacy of his own cranium. If that cranium can even be said to be known to exist.

Image result for school of athens
A gaggle of philosophers. That’s old school! That’s how you do it!

If we hold being Alone in our theology and philosophy to be the highest court above which no appeal can be made, how long will it take for us to assert that being alone in our personal judgements about, say, culture, government and my true self are likewise beyond appeal?

About 500 years, evidently.

Three things this day bring this to mind. First, this excellent essay by David Mills: The Bible’s not enough, which discusses the pervasiveness of Sola Scriptura even among Catholics. Second, a Twitter thread (so shoot me. I mean, think less of me.) where Morgon Newquist tells of her father, in a wheelchair at Disney World, offering to let a little girl sit in front of him to have a better view of a parade – and the parents react like he’s a child molestor. Finally, I’ve recently become part of the the RCIA team at our parish, and was given the task (and 10 minutes!) to explain how the Church reads Scripture.

We are so Alone. The ruins of go it alone theology and philosophy are everywhere. Rather than discovering ourselves in our relationships, we defiantly declare that only we alone can say who we are, depending solely on what we feel we are. We define *individual* rights, and deny they come from nature or nature’s God or even from our relationships to other people. Even the right to vote – especially the right to vote – is seen as definitive of *individual* worth, even if it is only practiced occasionally, and then as part of a large group for the purposes of the large group. It is an expression not of my role in society, but of my personal universe of truth. Thus, instead of seeing losing a vote as a worthy and acceptable outcome and motivation to try to change people’s hearts and minds, each loser is personally threatened, the victors seen as evil people trying to destroy his world.

Many seem to both want rights and want to be able to define them away from others. You must bake me a cake or give up your guns even if neither has any real effect on me, but I get to tell you who I am (and woe if you mess it up) and what world view you must adhere to so that I can feel good about my feelings. This trick is only possible for an more or less unconscious nihilist, who of course believes other’s worthiness depends on how well they support his view of himself, but also betrays how meaningless he feels his own feelings are.

The antidote is religious by definition. We must believe we are all in this together, that nobody can go it alone, in order to understand why the modernist nihilism won’t work. Or rather, why modernist nihilism should never be tried. We can try, doomed though the effort is, to believe in the unity of Mankind without believing in the God Who created that unity. But with or without God, the Brotherhood of Man is like the Equality of Man: nothing you can observe will support such beliefs unless you already believe them without evidence.

  1. Documents relate to “a student who attacked his professor with a sword” resulting in great damage being done to a lecture room – and to the lecturer himself.  From Medieval Students. Violence in medieval university towns was not uncommon.  I suspect there’s more than a bit of bias, both in the recording and interpretation of history – violent acts are memorable and judged noteworthy. A period of peace not so much. Read somewhere somebody saying that, by modern standards, the violence of the past was psychopathic. Of course, modern standards tend to overlook violence like firebombing cities, nuclear weapons, and the slaughter of a 100 million unarmed civilians by their own governments, so take that into consideration.
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Brick Oven Blowout: Gearing Up

The last 3.5 posts have been like, heavy, man – death of God, Luther, bad Science!, even quoting Camille Paglia! Therefore, to keep the silly/light quotient adequately high:

Sunday, we’re going to go for a total Brick Oven/Summer’s Over Blowout. Should have the oven door completed by then, which opens up a whole new world of stuff you can bake. Going to fire up the oven around noon or even earlier, heat it for a good 3-4 hours, then, around 3:00 p.m., we’ll start in on pizzas. I’ve been researching recipes that use a brick oven, and have found plenty – not surprising for a 2,500+ year old technology. The goal, such as it is, is just to try stuff, see what works, and, in the process, get to know the oven better.

Been surfing the interwebs in search of ideas. In addition to pizzas, we’ll be trying:

  • Breads – at least pizza-dough style and some light rye, maybe sourdough and ciabatta.
  • Baked potatoes
  • Carrots – saw a roasted honey-glazed recipe that looked pretty good
  • Steaks – skirt steak, if I can find any
IMG_4476
Charcoal and ash from a 90 minute burn. Will be shooting for a minimum 4 hour burn. To do real Italian-style bread properly, would probably require a minimum 6 hour burn – need to very thoroughly heat all that brick, mortar and concrete so it will hold the temp long enough to bake the bread. But that’s what this whole experiment is about.

The key to many of the vegetable items is cast iron cookware, of which we have some. You preheat the cast iron pans/pots in the oven, then add stuff, then let it bake/fry.

Saw Alton Brown do skirt steaks by simply throwing them – very briefly – directly onto 1000F charcoal. Sounds like fun.

We’ve invited maybe 15-20 people over. I’ve got 10lbs of brisket normalizing (soaking in plain water to pull some of the salt back out and even things up) after 6 days of brining, to make fresh pastrami. So we’ll need some brick oven bread suitable for sandwiches. There will be homemade sauerkraut and olives (from homegrown olives) as well as a few fresh off the vine tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, and peppers (late in the season, didn’t have very good volume this year). Hatch green chile is in the local Safeway, roasted a few pounds, so there will be authentic New Mexico style green chile sauce. What does one put authentic New Mexico style green chile sauce on? Just about anything!

Hatch Green Chile
Hatch Green Chile, grown in and around Hatch, New Mexico, is only available fresh for a few weeks in the fall. In Santa Fe, a couple hour’s drive north of Hatch, people buy it in 40 lbs boxes at the local grocery stores. Guys will set up roasters – 50-gallon drums where much of the sides have been replaced by expanded metal, on a rotating spindle over a fire – in the parking lot. Throw them a few bucks, and they’ll dump your box of chile into the barrel, spin it over the flames for a few minutes, then dump it back into your box (lined with plastic – doesn’t seem to melt it). You take it home, wipe the charred skin off with a cloth, throw the chile into baggies, and toss the baggies into the freezer. You’re now set for all your green chile needs until next year – if you go easy on it, that is. 

In addition to making the door, I might make a little expanded metal grill-on-legs that one can put into the oven to suspend foods over the coals (some people seem to like that, others throw everything right on the hot bricks or coals) Also got a metal pizza peel with too short a handle for reaching breads toward the back – got a long wooden handle, which I’ll need to swap out.

Got some shopping to do. Should be fun.

On an entirely different and more serious note: my wife heard an interview on NPR (the CD player in the car was giving her trouble, turned on the radio and that’s what was on) wherein a reporter who wrote a book on the Trump campaign opined that denying the results of a Pew study, which Trump is said to have done, was the same as denying gravity – anti-Science! Oh no! Couldn’t find a transcript, just the audio of the interview – and haven’t the time nor stomach to listen through to get the exact quotation. Will try later, time permitting. Suffice it to say that anyone who thinks polling data demands anything like the agreement an honest man gives to the theory of gravity and all its beautiful and useful math is a helpless babe in the woods, to be lead wherever her betters choose to lead her.

And then she presumes to lead us. With a sneer. O dolour!

But the party will be fun!

Lord of the World and the Death of God

As so often happens, a philosophical confluence. In the course of my more or less random reading, came across two writes, a century apart and coming at the issue from different angles, who notice the same thing. First, in Robert Hugh Benson’s wonderful and multiple-Pope-recommended 1907 novel Lord of the World, the rising English politician Oliver Brand thinks through what would nowadays be called his worldview:

As he looked from his window and saw that vast limit of London laid peaceably before him, as his imagination ran out over Europe and saw everywhere that steady triumph of common sense and fact over the wild fairy-stories of Christianity, it seemed intolerable that there should be even a possibility that all this should be swept back again into the barbarous turmoil of sects and dogmas…. Even Catholicism would revive, he told himself, that strange faith that had blazed so often as persecution had been dashed to quench it; and, of all forms of faith, to Oliver’s mind Catholicism was the most grotesque and enslaving….  There was but one hope on the religious side, as he had told Mabel a dozen times, and that was that the Quietistic Pantheism which for the last century had made such giant strides in East and West alike, among Mohammedans, Buddhists, Hindus, Confucianists and the rest, should avail to check the supernatural frenzy that inspired their exoteric brethren. Pantheism, he understood, was what he held himself; for him “God” was the developing sum of created life, and impersonal Unity was the essence of His being; competition then was the great heresy that set men one against another and delayed all progress; for, to his mind, progress lay in the merging of the individual in the family, of the family in the commonwealth, of the commonwealth in the continent, and of the continent in the world. Finally, the world itself at any moment was no more than the mood of impersonal life. It was, in fact, the Catholic idea with the supernatural left out, a union of earthly fortunes, an abandonment of individualism on the one side, and of supernaturalism on the other. It was treason to appeal from God Immanent to God Transcendent; there was no God transcendent; God, so far as He could be known, was man.

Later, Brand reads in the paper an account of the brave new world being ushered in by one Julian Felsenburgh, a mysterious American who is being called the Savior of the World:

“It is understood now, by fanatic barbarians as well as by civilised nations, that the reign of War is ended. ‘Not peace but a sword,’ said CHRIST; and bitterly true have those words proved to be. ‘Not a sword but peace’ is the retort, articulate at last, from those who have renounced CHRIST’S claims or have never accepted them. The principle of love and union learned however falteringly in the West during the last century, has been taken up in the East as well. There shall be no more an appeal to arms, but to justice; no longer a crying after a God Who hides Himself, but to Man who has learned his own Divinity. The Supernatural is dead; rather, we know now that it never yet has been alive. What remains is to work out this new lesson, to bring every action, word and thought to the bar of Love and Justice; and this will be, no doubt, the task of years. Every code must be reversed; every barrier thrown down; party must unite with party, country with country, and continent with continent. There is no longer the fear of fear, the dread of the hereafter, or the paralysis of strife. Man has groaned long enough in the travails of birth; his blood has been poured out like water through his own foolishness; but at length he understands himself and is at peace.

“Let it be seen at least that England is not behind the nations in this work of reformation; let no national isolation, pride of race, or drunkenness of wealth hold her hands back from this enormous work. The responsibility is incalculable, but the victory certain. Let us go softly, humbled by the knowledge of our crimes in the past, confident in the hope of our achievements in the future, towards that reward which is in sight at last—the reward hidden so long by the selfishness of men, the darkness of religion, and the strife of tongues—the reward promised by one who knew not what he said and denied what he asserted—Blessed are the meek, the peacemakers, the merciful, for they shall inherit the earth, be named the children of God, and find mercy.”

and Brand’s young wife Mabel,  trying to convince her dying mother in law to abandon Catholicism:

“Mother,” said the girl, “let me tell you again. Do you not understand that all which Jesus Christ promised has come true, though in another way? The reign of God has really begun; but we know now who God is. You said just now you wanted the Forgiveness of Sins; well, you have that; we all have it, because there is no such thing as sin. There is only Crime. And then Communion. You used to believe that that made you a partaker of God; well, we are all partakers of God, because we are human beings. Don’t you see that Christianity is only one way of saying all that? I dare say it was the only way, for a time; but that is all over now. Oh! and how much better this is! It is true—true. You can see it to be true!”

She paused a moment, forcing herself to look at that piteous old face, the flushed wrinkled cheeks, the writhing knotted hands on the coverlet.

“Look how Christianity has failed—how it has divided people; think of all the cruelties—the Inquisition, the Religious Wars; the separations between husband and wife and parents and children—the disobedience to the State, the treasons. Oh! you cannot believe that these were right. What kind of a God would that be! And then Hell; how could you ever have believed in that?… Oh! mother, don’t believe anything so frightful…. Don’t you understand that that God has gone—that He never existed at all—that it was all a hideous nightmare; and that now we all know at last what the truth is…. Mother! think of what happened last night—how He came—the Man of whom you were so frightened. I told you what He was like—so quiet and strong—how every one was silent—of the—the extraordinary atmosphere, and how six millions of people saw Him. And think what He has done—how He has healed all the old wounds—how the whole world is at peace at last—and of what is going to happen. Oh! mother, give up those horrible old lies; give them up; be brave.”

Written in 1907.

Next, came across the Death of  God Fifty Years On by Matthew Rose at First Things, published a year ago. In 1966, Time magazine’s cover story was entitled “Is God Dead?” This article, what we would now call click bait, created a furor. For youngsters, way back then people took magazines like Time seriously as not only purveyors of “news” but as important social and cultural barometers. Weird, huh?

Rose’s essay is very hard to excerpt, as it spins together, from paragraph to paragraph, many sources and writers to paint its picture. What follows gives some of the flavor, but it’s well worth reading the entire essay:

Altizer was taken with Nietzsche’s idea that Christianity generated its own fatal undermining. But he challenged ­Nietzsche on a critical point: It was not Christians who murdered God, but God who abolished himself. Altizer arrived at this conclusion through a controversial reading of other theologians. Among them was Karl Barth, who according to Altizer had initiated the Death of God movement. (Alasdair MacIntyre made a similar reading of the Swiss theologian in 1967.)

A central thesis of Barth’s theology is that God’s nature is bound up with his revelation in salvation history. Since we cannot know God apart from his self-revelation, argued Barth, we have true ­knowledge of the divine only through Jesus Christ. Altizer translated this claim about knowledge into a metaphysical thesis. He stipulated that God has no being apart from the historical person of Jesus. This allowed Altizer to say, with quite shocking matter-of-factness, that God is dead because he died in history, on the cross. God is incarnate in Jesus—and he dies in Jesus. “The radical Christian,” Altizer wrote in his 1966 manifesto The Gospel of Christian Atheism, “proclaims that God has actually died in Christ, that this death is both a historical and cosmic event.”

From the perspective of classical Christian ­theology, Altizer’s views can only appear nonsensical, but his understanding of God differed in fundamental ways from that tradition. Its roots were in the nineteenth-century philosopher G. W. F. Hegel, who interpreted history as the progressive realization of human freedom. Hegel’s main idea was that contradiction—or more precisely, the overcoming of contradiction—is the law of life.

His Phenomenology of Spirit told the speculative story of how human beings attain free ­self-consciousness through conflict that always leads to a higher resolution. In this history, he claimed, we learn to see historical conceptions of God as symbolic representations of the human drama of cultural ­development.

Hegel was deeply entangled with Christian theology and saw himself as preserving the spirit of Christianity rather than overturning it. He maintained, with perfect sincerity and considerable ingenuity, that his philosophy advanced a rational articulation of the teachings of the Bible. There are many twists and turns to Hegel’s philosophical re-narration of the scriptural story, but its most important claim is that God entered history in order to abolish his separation from it. History’s meaning and purpose are no longer “above,” but instead operate within the ongoing flow of human affairs. God’s coming into the world in Christ represents, symbolically, man’s coming-to-himself as the rational author of his own destiny.

The essay concludes by remarking that, while the theology of the death of God has had little academic traction, as a reflection of what was going on in the culture, however inarticulately, it was dead on.

Benson might have agreed.

Finally, how does this sort of thing metastasize across a culture? Benson gives a clue earlier in his novel. Mabel and her mother in law went to hear Oliver deliver a speech. The people gathered began to sing:

There was no doubt that these Londoners could sing. It was as if a giant voice hummed the sonorous melody, rising to enthusiasm till the music of massed bands followed it as a flag follows a flag-stick. The hymn was one composed ten years before, and all England was familiar with it. Old Mrs. Bland lifted the printed paper mechanically to her eyes, and saw the words that she knew so well:

The Lord that dwells in earth and sea.” …

She glanced down the verses, that from the Humanitarian point of view had been composed with both skill and ardour. They had a religious ring; the unintelligent Christian could sing them without a qualm; yet their sense was plain enough—the old human creed that man was all. Even Christ’s, words themselves were quoted. The kingdom of God, it was said, lay within the human heart, and the greatest of all graces was Charity.

Global Community

What, really, does that even mean?

Saw an ad for an all-girls Catholic school that promised to prepare girls to contribute and thrive in a global community.

global community
The actual text.

And here I was, thinking: wouldn’t it be better to prepare girls to to contribute and thrive in their own local community? Their own current and future families? Being a good daughter and mother is something tangible, something confirmed in a million little ways. The results of taking part in church and school and local charities and activities is real and right before your eyes.

How would you even know if you were a contributing member of the global community? Objectively, I mean? Where is the child’s smile or the firm handshake, or the meal or clothes handed out to someone in need? I imagine it’s possible some of these young women might join a missionary religious order or otherwise find themselves far from home serving people. Then – and here’s the key – they will serve them in exactly the way they have learned to serve their parents, siblings and neighbors back home. Right? Apart from some comparatively minor cultural differences, there’s not some magic serve global people thing that’s different from serving the people you already know.

It’s long been known that religious vocations come disproportionately from big families, and that the chances of getting and staying married improve markedly if one or more of the marriage partners came from an intact family. Can’t get any more local – or less global – than that!

Chesterton often points out that our most important relationships are the ones we don’t get to pick. We’re more likely to hear the truth about ourselves and have a real opportunity to practice Christian virtue with the grumpy lady who lives next door than with our select group of friends. We will almost certainly have whatever opportunities we get in this life to put our freedom and unique personalities into practice among family. The freedom to march in public protest or vote once or twice a year are insignificant compared to the freedom to tickle the baby or sing snippets of corny musicals at the top of our lungs most any time we want – at home, among family.

Destruction of the family has enslaved us. No theoretical global community, whatever that even means, can take the family’s place.

Reading/Writing/Thoughts Random Thursday Updates

City of Corpses: The Dark Avenger's Sidekick Book Two (Moth & Cobweb 5) by [Wright, John C.]
Ami’s skimpy outfit is part of the story and the occasion for a very age-appropriate, not at all preachy discussion of modesty and virtue. 
Reading aloud to our 13 yr old, finished up Daughter of Danger and are now on into City of Corpses. He’s still digging it, even though the opening couple chapters are a bit expositional – not a lot of physical action, but more clever banter and psychological games. It’s holding his attention. It is a good book, a good story well told. Highly recommended, can’t wait for book 6.

 

I’m parallel reading Machiavelli’s The History of Florence and the Affairs of Italy  (about 60% through) and Stephanie Osborn’s Rock and Roll: The New Madrid Fault System a 75-page discussion of what the New Madrid fault system is and what it means that Dr. Osborn put up on Amazon more or less as a favor to people who attended one of her talks. It’s sort of like a really good, really long Wikipedia article, written with more verve. I’ll have both these read and review them in a couple days.

Recently ordered a hard copy of Lord of the World just to have a copy to lend to my kids. Not everybody has a Kindle or can tolerate reading on a screen. Reviewed it here.

Aaaaand – ordered a copy of Edward Feser’s Locke and Lafferty’s Okla Hannali. The Lafferty is due to both Mike Flynn’s and Kevin Cheek’s recommendation – and Lafferty is a hoot and a great writer. The Locke I got because I’ve been trying to work some Feser into the pile for some time, and this seemed timely, and is short and relatively cheap. Have Scholastic Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction on my wishlist, but it is comparatively long and expensive, so went with Locke for now.

True story: my elder daughter Teresa works in the office at a little Catholic grade school in the L.A. area where the Fesers send their kids. While in general she would have little opportunity to meet him, she saw him and his family as some sort of school picnic. She texted me, since she knows I am a fan of his blog. I told her she needed to say hi, and tell him thanks for linking to my blog (which he has done once or twice).  He was surrounded by people, and she was understandable shy, so it didn’t happen. Next time, I will tell her to screw her courage to the sticking place – she’s got that theater degree and did a one-woman Taming of the Shrew, after all.

Next time, I’ll tell her to tell him how much I like his books. I hope.

Anyway, I’ve got possibly, guessing, maybe 50 books on the short-term to be read pile, and literally hundreds on the eventually read/reread shelves. Just hope I’ve still got some eyesight and energy when/if I retire…. 6 years, 11 months to full SS, but who’s counting?

As far as writing goes, I really, truly have little time now, a situation I hope will resolve itself in a few weeks. Just too much going on, trying to get the front yard brickwork farther along before it’s totally dark after work, and have something going at church 2 and sometimes 3 nights a week – good stuff, but still. Once it’s dark after work, I’ll be forced to move inside – where the writing is!

For now, must content myself with stuff I do for work (anybody want to know all about lease finance? Physical asset management by leasing companies? No?) and the prep I do for our Feasts and Faith Thursday classes. Today’s class: got the Nativity of Mary, St. Peter Clavier, and St. John Chrysostom (we do Thursday – the following Wednesdays)  – all fun, plus the Sunday readings.

As far as thoughts go, this amusing little thing crossed my Twitter feed:

Red

This was brought to mind by a semi-random comment made in my hearing about how certain radical educational ideas, such as abolishing age-segregation and compulsory classes, would support progressive education. Um, what? Progressive education is what we have NOW – the graded classroom, age (not need or talent) segregation, the mewling idiocy of virtually all textbooks, the thinly-veiled efforts to keep us stupid – ALL that is the product of the best Progressive minds. Every great figure in the sordid history of education that has brought us to the point we are today was a Progressive, or would have been had the term been around at the time. Take Chicago – please. They will proudly identify themselves as Progressive, and do, in fact have among the highest paid (last I checked, it was THE highest paid) teachers in the nation. They count education reformer Dewey among their favorite sons.

So, with a century of uninterrupted Progressive leadership, with very well compensated teachers, what kind of schools does Chicago have? How are those teachers dong?  Not too good.

Just like in the cartoon above, it is hilarious to see Progressives trying to pin it on somebody else. Rahm Emanuel, you see, isn’t the right kind of Progressive – or something. When I think of Progressives, my mind turns to Chicago as the living laboratory of a century of Progressive government, and – no thanks.

Crazy People By the Numbers & Finding Your Guy Fawkes

Quick review:

Current Estimated Population of America:                                    325,000,000

Est. Number & Percent of Sociopaths:                                             3,250,000 – 16,250,000: 1% – 5%

Est. Number & Percent of Schizophrenics:                                    1,125,000: 0.5%

Est. Number & Percent of Americans w/ Bipolar Disorder:        3,325,000 – 9,975,000: 1% – 3%

And so on, through a menagerie of psychiatric disorders. These were just the ones that came to mind first. Not in any way making light of the horrible suffering endured by those afflicted with these disorders and by those who love them. Merely pointing out how common people who have severely crippled grips on reality are. Not to mention the milder but still debilitating forms of delusion, such as socialism and political partisanship.

With this in mind, I was actually a little surprised that only a few hundreds showed up for that demonstration and counter demonstration that I’ve been diligently ignoring. The organizers could not have been trying very hard if what they wanted was a good show of numbers – there’s a large pool of potential participants. If that’s indeed what they wanted.

Guy Fawkes, aka Guido FawkesThe more interesting issue for me has been tracking the efforts of the suicidal narcissists to find, or, if necessary, produce their Guy Fawkes. As long as your opponents keep appearing sane, non-violent and, you know, human, violence against them tends to backfire in the court of public opinion. That’s why any and all opposition is labeled ‘Nazi’. Trouble is, those enemies keep screwing it up by not acting at all like Nazis, and keep pointing out that the inflammatory rhetoric, threats and violence are all coming from the other side.

Thus, the search is on for a useable Guy Fawkes. In a country of 325 million people, millions of whom are certifiably off their rockers, that doesn’t take long.

Keep in mind that, as with the historical Fawkes, the goal here is establish a pretext to silence and eventually get *you*, the calm and rational opposition. Nobody sane objects to locking up dangerous loonies, after all.

The Benighted Rich

Several topics obsessively addressed on this here blog have walked together luminously over the last few days.

“Among the rich you will never find a really generous man even by accident. They may give their money away, but they will never give themselves away; they are egotistic, secretive, dry as old bones. To be smart enough to get all that money you must be dull enough to want it.”  ― G.K. ChestertonA Miscellany of Men

I here point out the dominance of the tech industry by obsessive college dropouts, each brilliant in his own very narrow way. While many – Jobs, Gates – are literally drop outs, others – Page, Brin – merely dropped out in spirit, after the fashion described by Chesterton above.

These men, who found fabulous success at ridiculously young ages, did consume enough conventional schooling – Stanford! Harvard! Can’t get any more conventional than that! – to embrace two notions without which much of their current behaviors and attitudes would be nearly incomprehensible: that you, the students, are the best, most well-educated, open-minded and moral people to ever walk the earth, and that the foundational virtue is to be one with the group we assign you to. These poor souls therefore believe both that they are wise, good and open to new ideas and that the tribe they find themselves a part of is, definitionally, the font of all virtue and right thinking. The comfort that comes from establishing themselves among only people who agree with them is only exceeded by the evident panic induced by the vigorously resisted realization that that little group is immersed in an ocean of people who don’t.

If a new idea was so reckless as to wander into their purview, an idea new enough (to them, anyway) to challenge the established, visceral idea feeling dogma that they are on the good team, and that they hold the right beliefs, their lack of meaningful education and their bullet-proof self-esteem has no way to accommodate it.

It is a sign of a cultivated mind that it can entertain an idea without accepting it.        – Aristotle

It is likewise the sign of an uncultivated mind that it cannot entertain an idea it has not already accepted. Modern schooling assiduously lets young minds remain fallow – they are not cultivated, not tilled nor sown nor reaped. The ‘A’ in the SAT stands for ‘achievement’ – in the eyes of the schools, the SAT tests achievement, the specific achievement in view being the ability to do well on the SAT. That’s why there are SAT classes and sample tests, and existential panic over the results.

Actual achievements – fluency in a foreign language, say, or mastery of calculus or welding – don’t get anywhere near the emphasis the SAT does. Given the years and hours dedicated to schooling, often an order of magnitude greater than was typical 100 years ago, one might expect 10 times the actual achievements to be achieved. We should be flooded with multilingual kids who play several instruments, can design and build in many different media, who can manage a business and build relationships and laugh and love. Instead, the pinnacle of achievement is to be the sort of crippled adolescent who, sitting atop a mountain of money, has a good cry with his friends when the wrong candidate wins an election.

And then fires people whose agreement with his positions isn’t sufficiently enthusiastic.

I’ve written on how the vast increases in wealth over the last century allows for the survival of many people whose fundamental beliefs and behaviors would otherwise get them killed. In the past, you could not be detached from all family relationships and expect to get fed and housed; someone who railed against the foundations of society – family, for example – would at best be shunned and, if he kept it up, banished or even killed in an act of societal self-defence.  No responsible father, at least, was going to marry his child off to such a one.

Now, we are ruled to a growing extent by people who believe their suicidal nihilism is sweetness and light itself, that if we only flatten the moral universe enough, we will see that surrender is victory and life is death. Any defense of the virtues of each man’s hearth is a vicious attack on someone who hates that hearth, who hates the idea that a man and a woman might find their deepest human happiness gathered with their parents and children and friends before the fire in their own home.  All ideas that surround and support such a vision of happiness offend, while any that celebrate its destruction are a cause of rejoicing.  That our society was built by men who shared that vision of family specifically to support that vision only means that society must be destroyed.

I take some comfort in the realization that the rich tend to fall fast and hard. When considering how I might speed that process along in my own small way, saw this instant classic of an ad:

So, see? I can still laugh. Think I’ll go sit with my wife and children tonight and watch an old movie.