Matthew P. Schmidt
My Blog
The Plutonium Idol
The thing with idolatry in ancient Israel wasn’t that the Holy People did not worship the LORD. Far from it–they simply worshipped everything else, too. It is such idolatry that remains to this day: while mankind once bowed before idols of gold and stone, now it pledges fealty to idols made of silicon and plutonium.
The Devil has succeeded in quite a trick: convincing some who call abortion a bloody holocaust to Moloch to worship at the altar of passing entire nations through the nuclear hellfire. I am certain that if this blog was more popular I would get angry comments defending the latter practice. Instead, no one cares at all. But it is what it is: a sacrifice of others–hundreds of millions of them–for our own peace of mind. Hail your god, America, the Trident! Kneel before the Minuteman! For the LORD might not protect us from nuclear war–but we know they will!
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What to the Modern White Guy is “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?”?
I have always been inspired by the story of Fredrick Douglass, a slave who escaped slavery to become a renowned orator and author. His is not the story of a man who was second-rate, shooed into the spotlight only for his relative accomplishments compared to his past. What use would that be? No, he was not merely any random speaker, but Fredrick Douglass, a name that survives to this day in history books, no matter how often it is skimmed over.
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The Taste for Realism
I have seen, and admittedly indulged in that fan activity I will call the Fact Checking Game. It goes like this: First, you take some work of fiction, particularly a popular one, and you find some fascinating idea or claim it has. Then you deconstruct it with real world logic, checking all the facts and invariably coming up with an unrealistic or at least implausible conclusion. At this point, bemoaning that the creator did not think of this may commence. As a sequel, you can find some plausible counterpoint, and argue with the proponents of the former conclusion until the cows come home.
This is not, in itself, a bad thing.
Well said!