“I do not think we did go blind, I think we are blind, Blind but seeing, Blind people who can see, but do not see.”
In a recent interview with Rolling Stone, Stephen King thumps his gavel on the whole organized religion thing:
When you see somebody like Jimmy Swaggart and he’s supposed to be this great minister touched by God, and he’s paying whores because he wants to look up their dresses, it’s just all hypocrisy.
In other news, there is no such thing as Camembert because Easy Cheese exists.
“My name is Barry Allen and I’m the fastest man alive. A friend recently gave me the idea for a new name and something tells me it’s gonna catch on…”
Barring a handful of shows I’ve followed with more or less regularity over the years (The Walking Dead, Parks & Recreation, Fringe), I don’t watch much TV, and I don’t pay close attention when networks air their latest and greatest. But there’s one new show I’m honestly happy about. That show is CW’s The Flash.
It’s DC territory from now on, so if watching a man get struck by lightning and turn into a speedster isn’t your thing, it isn’t your thing. For the rest of us, The Flash has all the ingredients of sly, good-hearted comic book fun.
It’s brand-spanking-new, of course, so I might eat those words in a few months’ time, but I’m choosing to be optimistic. Here’s why: Barry Allen is a good man.
He’s good in much the same way that Steve Rogers is good, because with or without his powers, he’s ready to be a hero – one with a moral compass that points very stubbornly north. If chivalry is dead, Barry didn’t get the memo. He seems determined to make us believe in knights again.
A good man is hard to find. But when you do, it’s nothing short of inspiring. He even inspired me to take a swipe at the old keyboard again, and given how busy this season of life is, that’s saying a lot.
Joe Carter over at TGC recently wrote about the link between Fifty Shades of Grey and the normalization of abusive behavior toward women. Carter (along with the study he cites) observes that while the books are popular with older women, their target audience “is young women between the ages of 18 and 25. The effect of targeting this young audience can be that it conditions them to accept abusive relationships in the future or to justify abuse they’ve already suffered at the hands of older men.”
He goes on to say that Fifty Shades is “also the latest blockbuster series to celebrate the attraction of young women to older, abusive predators. In an earlier era of fantasy stories, the goal of a hero was to protect a woman from evil by slaying the dragon. In many of today’s fantasy stories, the hero is the dragon, whose mission is to seduce a woman by his evil.”
Taken from this angle, it’s easier to grasp why the postmodern mind has such a turbulent relationship with older tales – and hence, with the virtuous bedrock they’re built on. We’ve reached a stage in our cultural rebellion that sees our popular stories vilifying St. George while ennobling the monster he was sent to slay. Candice Watters’ remark about turning the moral universe upside down is most fitting. (For another example, look to the upcoming film Dracula Untold, which casts the famous literary villain in a sympathetic and even heroic light.)
First, it cannot come as a surprise that celebrations of sin – yes, even “imagined” sin – yield consequences as practical as dirt under your fingernails. It wasn’t for kicks and giggles that Solomon wrote, “Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.” (Prov. 4:23) Taking your soul on walks through pornographic wastelands and then raising your eyebrow at the physical and emotional fallout is like eating Taco Bell and acting surprised at the diarrhea.
In his book Fidelity, Doug Wilson points out that “if God doesn’t want us to do it, He doesn’t want us to get pleasure from thinking about doing it,” and this is just good sense. But there are some things in this life that cannot be overestimated: one of those is the deceitfulness of the human heart.
Second, nature does indeed abhor a vacuum. In the absence of the healthy, the mature, and the morally robust, the diseased and the dying rush in. So it isn’t enough to avoid Fifty Shades and its plague-ridden dishes. Abstinence is less than half the battle. The right kind of food is needed. In a culture that feasts on ashes and filthy rags, we have a ravenous obligation to get fat on the good stuff – and to fatten our children with it, too.