When cast down, and driven to outer dark regions of soul, where the sight of the true, beautiful, and good recedes like a faded sun, I find myself in need of writers who make me laugh at human folly and who seem to believe that reason and goodness will prevail–that human folly, man’s fallenness, and rivers of vapid assertions, will ultimately fall away and be revealed for what they are.
I return once more to Charles Dickens’ characters, where in his fictional universe of Pumblechook, David Copperfield, Pip, Scrooge, Charles Darnay, Estella, Sydney Carton, Miss Havisham, and many many more, the reader discovers folly to be sure, but also redemption, laughter, and hope.
The reader rediscovers hope, yes, and finds a world wherein sanity prevails, where children are to be protected rather than preyed upon, where the Oliver Twists are redeemed rather than reduced to endlessly pickpocketing as street urchins.
As I complete my reading of this wonderful biography of Dickens, I salute you, Charles Dickens. I have read your works for decades now. You’ve been dead for 154 years, but your words live on. Your characters live on. And you remain dear to those of us blessed by your word-rich, jolly, effervescent literary universe.
“When the righteous increase, the people rejoice, but when the wicked rule, the people groan” (Proverbs 29:2, ESV). The polarity is clear. Righteousness vs. unrighteousness; joy in goodness vs. delight in wickedness. It was like it was ripped from today’s headlines. Below is an example of what I mean.
When the homes of teachers are unsafe because the jihadist mobs invade even there, you need to know that no one is safe. The mobs don’t care. This is Exhibit 7,568,931 of the consequences of ideas. When evil is not prosecuted, don’t be surprised when the mobs and fools descend upon your doorstep. Behold, the consequences of nihilism and the rejection of God. It’s Christ or chaos–every single time. You will be made to care.
It reminds me of some of Dylan’s most powerful lyrics as found in “Desolation Row.” They read as follows:
They’re selling postcards of the hanging, they’re painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner, they’ve got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the other is in his pants And the riot squad they’re restless, they need somewhere to go As Lady and I look out tonight, from Desolation Row
Cinderella, she seems so easy, “It takes one to know one, ” she smiles And puts her hands in her back pockets Bette Davis style And in comes Romeo, he’s moaning. “You Belong to Me I Believe” And someone says, “You’re in the wrong place, my friend, you’d better leave” And the only sound that’s left after the ambulances go Is Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden, the stars are beginning to hide The fortune telling lady has even taken all her things inside All except for Cain and Abel and the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love or else expecting rain And the Good Samaritan, he’s dressing, he’s getting ready for the show He’s going to the carnival tonight on Desolation Row
Ophelia, she’s ‘neath the window for her I feel so afraid On her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid To her, death is quite romantic she wears an iron vest Her profession’s her religion, her sin is her lifelessness And though her eyes are fixed upon Noah’s great rainbow She spends her time peeking into Desolation Row
Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood with his memories in a trunk Passed this way an hour ago with his friend, a jealous monk Now he looked so immaculately frightful as he bummed a cigarette And he when off sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabet You would not think to look at him, but he was famous long ago For playing the electric violin on Desolation Row
Dr. Filth, he keeps his world inside of a leather cup But all his sexless patients, they’re trying to blow it up Now his nurse, some local loser, she’s in charge of the cyanide hole And she also keeps the cards that read, “Have Mercy on His Soul” They all play on the penny whistles, you can hear them blow If you lean your head out far enough from Desolation Row
Across the street they’ve nailed the curtains, they’re getting ready for the feast The Phantom of the Opera in a perfect image of a priest They are spoon feeding Casanova to get him to feel more assured Then they’ll kill him with self-confidence after poisoning him with words And the Phantom’s shouting to skinny girls, “Get outta here if you don’t know” Casanova is just being punished for going to Desolation Row“
At midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew Come out and round up everyone that knows more than they do Then they bring them to the factory where the heart-attack machine Is strapped across their shoulders and then the kerosene Is brought down from the castles by insurance men who go Check to see that nobody is escaping to Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero’s Neptune, the Titanic sails at dawn Everybody’s shouting, “Which side are you on?!” And Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting in the captain’s tower While calypso singers laugh at them and fishermen hold flowers Between the windows of the sea where lovely mermaids flow And nobody has to think too much about Desolation Row
Yes, I received your letter yesterday, about the time the doorknob broke When you asked me how I was doing, was that some kind of joke All these people that you mention, yes, I know them, they’re quite lame I had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name Right now, I can’t read too good, don’t send me no more letters no Not unless you mail them from Desolation Row
What you’re witnessing is a deliberate destruction of the biblical moral foundations of Western civilization and a reshaping of ziggurats and towers of Babel to erotic paganism. The restraints designed by God are now mocked and discarded and scoffed at as repressive joy-killers and the lies of ‘progressivism’, infanticide, and sexual perversions that stagger the mind and destroy the soul are the new religion and the cultus of death.
Tear down the U.S. flag but fly the rainbow jihad flag of perversion. Anti-semitism is permitted but don’t dare ‘misgender’ the she-male with purple and blue hair. Don’t pray outside of abortion mills known as Planned Parenhood because you’ll be arrested, but by all means celebrate June as LGBTQIA+ Pride Month. It goes on and on and on, and still the sheeple go along with it. Be of good cheer, dear reader, though, because, rest assured, it’s coming for you. You can pretend that you’re in a bubble, but these mobs don’t care. It’s Christ or chaos. By and large, the West has chosen chaos, and you’re seeing the consequences.
Got home at 0200 this morning from time away with fellow soldiers. But was able to spend the day in territory I relish and appreciate. No wonder the Cherokees worshipped the ways they did.
I was in Iowa with fellow soldiers. After training I went to the local barber shop to get tightened up a bit. When I entered the barber shop, I knew I had found my kind of place. There were three chairs for the barbers. Each woman’s first name was posted behind her chair on the mirror. And the lunch hour for each woman was posted, too. For example: Amber: Lunch (1200-1300). I liked the place immediately. It was clean. And there was lots of local memoribilia–local newspapers and flyers; photos of the town’s events; stories related to farms and pork, etc. And it was a cash-only business. My fondness continued to grow.
As I sat on the bench and waited for my turn in the owner’s chair, I perused the interior walls full of pictures and the shevles of interesting trinkets. One of the things I noticed is that the owner kept us all engaged in conversation. She spoke to the customer in her chair and even brought me in on their conversation. He was a retired Iowa State Patrolman who’d been having his hair cut here for 30 years. And I was here for my first time as a soldier, but they were both super-friendly and welcoming.
I noticed what was an important connection. No one was on gadgets. No one had phones out or was scrolling. We were talking and looking one another in the eyes. Then I saw the lesson and how it was being lived out. Next haircut time I’m in Iowa, I’m coming back. Well done, Johnston Barber Shop. Well done.
When it’s a sunny day in the Midwest, and I’m flying in, it’s hard to beat–at least if you love farmland. There’s something about this region that gets me each time I fly in-the breadth of earth in cultivation, the churches that dot the landscape, the long driveways, the copses of trees marking property lines, the barns and silos, and on and on it goes.
The flight is full. A very kind retired couple is seated next to me to my left. I always try to get a window seat. I do not ever seem to tire of looking out. The woman is at my elbow. She sees me reading Dostoyevksy.
“How’s your book?” she asks.
“It’s great,” I say. “I have not read this one since college, and that was quite awhile ago. I had forgotten a lot of it.”
“I have never read that one, but I’ve heard it is good.”
“It is. It’s a tome,” I said. “It’s taken me several days to get through it. Almost a thousand pages, but worth it.”
She looks at me in uniform and asks, “Where are you headed?”
“To teach some soldiers,” I say. “In the Midwest this week.”
“Well, thank you for what you do.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She returns to reading on her Kindle and chatting with her husband on her left occasionally about golf.
They are both very tanned, and they look the part of a couple who spends a lot of time in the sun and on golf courses.
St. Louis, Missouri fades into the background and Iowa is in view below now. I read a few more pages of my Dostoyevsky novel. Raskolnikov is being interrogated by his mother and sister, and his conscience is murdering him for his earlier crimes.
I was reading and trying to wrap my head around all this identity politics insanity and the political vitriol erupting across our land. I was reminded of a note I have inside one of my Bibles: “Our world is not divided by race, color, gender, or religion. Our world is divided into wise people and fools. And fools divide themselves by race, color, gender, or religion.”
I remember the story of Joshua when he was met by a man with his sword drawn. It’s important that this occurred just before the conquest of Jericho. Joshua asked him, “Are you for us, or for our adversaries?” The meaning implied is that Joshua was likely being impulsive, impetuous, and overly zealous. He needed to be reminded of God and of God’s ways. Remember the man’s response? “No; but I am the commander of the army of the LORD. Now I have come” (Joshua 5:13-14, ESV).
The idea should be obvious. Conquest is to be done God’s way via God’s means. And God’s means in the metanarrative of Scripture is the cross of Christ. Political power cannot change the human heart; only the gospel does that. And Joshua, as mighty as he was, as gifted as he was in warfare, needed to be reminded that the ultimate battle is the Lord’s because only He is sufficient for such things.
I’m not one to lionize folks prematurely, but Thomas Sowell’s wisdom has been so consistent for so many years now, recognizing his wisdom is not premature but rather long past due. It is recognizing a man of courage who has told the truth for years and suffered the hatred of the foolish crowds.
“One of the most important reasons for studying history is that virtually every stupid idea that is en vogue today has been tried before and proved disastrous before, time and again” (Thomas Sowell).
Intro: I read the news online in the morning. Photo after photo, article after article, paragraph after paragraph—all of it carried the message that the West is amidst moral freefall and divine judgment. Students from Columbia and Yale are videoed screaming, “Tear down our society!” Students who, call me crazy, should be learning history, or in the library doing research, reading a classic, (remember those?), and discovering a coherent worldview are instead puppets on strings–demonic marionettes parroting demonic screeds, manifesting not so much a coherent argument or worldview as sophomoric hubris and utter immaturity.
It does not bode well for this culture or any culture. Education has been largely replaced by indoctrination. The result is predictable: automatons of rage who cannot think for themselves because they’ve not been taught how to think but only to rage, rage, rage, and all the while playing the victim. It’s so silly on one hand and so utterly predictable on the other. But this is where we are–tuition dollars going to pay for indoctrination camps that produce intellectual and moral children.
Wisdom from God: Does God speak to this? Do His Scriptures speak to this? Of course. “When a man’s folly brings his way to ruin, his heart rages against the LORD” (Pr 19:3, ESV). What we’re witnessing—national borderlessness; no prosecution of violent crime; justice for sale to the highest bidders; anti-Semitism; violence in the streets; a deliberate dumbing-down of every arena; the alphabet identities, et al.–is demonic and there’s no political cure, only a spiritual one—the one of Scripture, where man recognizes and repents of his own sin, and flees to God in repentance and faith. That’s it. But will we do that? We shall see. In the meantime, Rome burns.
A Prayer from Daniel: “O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive. O Lord, pay attention and act” (Dan 9:19a, ESV). For we have departed and are reaping the fruits of our fallen ways.
MIND & MATTERS 