If you haven’t yet, I suggest reading his post on his thoughts on our killing of Osama bin Laden. (His blog is OhYouKnow…)

“Should we be happy about the killing of Osama bin Laden?”

The concerns James articulates reveal that he is not decided on the issue – at a later date he will be decided. The next time we have a beer together, I want one of the toasts to be the death of Osama bin Laden, and not just to his death but to America’s role in that death. To that I end, I write this post.

I will not quote scripture because I don’t have the time, but I speak to you as a Christian and as an American. The scripture passages quoted by James are typical things you might expect from a sermon on the mount, New Testament quotation. With that in mind, I would like to argue that these are not politically relevant. The focus of these teachings is for you and I. They focus on how we must love each other. Unfortunately, the state is not involved in love, it is involved in creating a stable environment, within which people may love and may be Christians (and of course, pursue a number of other private and social goods). The state does not love because it is not a person; it exists by the will of many people, for the protection of their life, liberty and property.

James also quotes proverbs, and this piece of scripture is politically relevant.

Proverbs 24:17-18:
17 Do not gloat when your enemy falls;
when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice,
18 or the LORD will see and disapprove
and turn his wrath away from them.

What does this mean for us? To know that, we must know King David, and I am afraid that would take too much time for my little blog post. But David, on many occasions, acted with an exacting political prudence. Let us put it this way: David ruthlessly kills his political opponents through the hands of his servants, shows remorse, and, depending on the usefulness of the servant, either kills them immediately after they have accomplished his political task, or has them later killed by Solomon after he is dead. (Cf. Jo’ab). My point is simply: this is a piece of political prudence, and it is not bad advice whatsoever. In fact, it is brilliant advice, which matches Machiavelli in insight and outshines him in beauty. Scripture wins, suck it Machiavelli. In this light, such words do not represent a moral ought to be followed on principle, but very good advice to the political ruler, especially to kings (who are held personally responsible for actions of the state.)

Why our jubilation is different; that is, why it is a political good: For the first time in a long time, I saw Americans with a little swagger, a healthy confidence and a tangible degree of solidarity. Americans have been catching the European sickness of failing to distinguish between friend and enemy for fear violating their Postmodern Pseudo-Piety of inclusiveness. Thankfully, two nights ago, we roundly shed such false pretences and called a spade a spade.

James’ best point was: “Was it all worth it?”

We agree with the sentiment James here displays – it is highly doubtful that it was all worth it. In the prosecution of these wars our national institutions, our economic well-being, and the lives of our citizens have all seen significant losses. Our nation has forgotten that wise statement of John Q Adams: “But she goes not abroad, in search of monsters to destroy. … She might become the dictatress of the world. She would be no longer the ruler of her own spirit.” I would like to say thinking people have come to realize just how much control we lose over our own destiny when we involve ourselves in the destiny of every “rogue state” or humanitarian crisis, but, then there is Libya…

Yet, we contend, we should still be celebratory. We need a reason to celebrate these days. We need to shake of that pseudo-piety of Europe. It is healthy for us to understand that not everybody is our friend, not everyone likes the way we live or thinks our institutions are just – it warmed my heart to see that Americans still have a fighting spirit.

That’s all I have time for, it is late and I have to go to bed! Go read James’ post now.

First, an funny anecdote. One person asked me how young the little brother was. “um.” – pause – “somewhere around 2?” This answer invited a quizzical look and the reply, “you don’t know his age?” End of conversation.

Anyway, onto the reason I am writing this post. The older brother has been watching Peter Pan and has decided that he is Captain Hook, a “bad pirate.” (When I asked him why, he answered “I have to grow up someday.”) Now, he wanted to go to the park because, naturally, the playground is his ship and he has to make sure mean girls do not take it from him.

He takes a bucket of toys to the park. I neglect to inspect this.

Immediately upon arrival, he speeds over to the playground. A number of children were playing in one spot. The rest of the playground is relatively empty. He marches up to the children, having placed his pirate patch over his eye and withdrawn his sword (a spatula), he shouts “Get off my ship!” And this is how he continued to begin his interactions with other children throughout our time there. Either the children would begin to play with him, or, as was the case on several occasions (two with the same child), an overprotective parent would whisk the child away and give me a quizzical look. Now, a spatula was unfortunately not all the bucket contained. It also harbored several fake guns and knives, which were distributed the children who decided to play. Cries of “walk the plank” were shouted at girls from the top of slides, and “shoot him” at those dubbed peter pan. Several parents were not happy that such violent toys had been brought to the playground and I must admit, I cringed every time I noticed other parents removing their children from the action, or giving me dirty looks. I spent a good deal of the time thinking to myself what I would say if I was approached.

(This distaste was not universal, mind you. Several parents cared very little. It is interesting to note that the two were distinct groups. Upper class white fathers were universally appalled at my decided non-interference. Lower class moms were unconcerned or amused. Take from it what you will.)

As I watched the scene unfold, I wondered if I was ever that assertive as a child. I honestly can’t remember a time when I marched up to any group of strangers and told them, under no polite circumstances, to obey my will. ‘This is my ship, you have to leave.”

What struck me was one occasion where the father began to whisk his little girl away, the boy I babysit yelled “hey! don’t do that!”

When I had arrived to babysit earlier that day, he had run outside and was jumping up and down. “we’re going to the park, we’re going to the park.” (I had promised him the week before. It had been rainy, and we stayed inside the entire time.)

Remembering his enthusiasm at going to the park, and his dismay at the loss of his potential playmate, made me realize – he had been eagerly waiting, possibly all week, to go play pirates. The way he decided to get things rolling was to simply go be a pirate. Surely the other kids will respond by also playing pirates. You have to get the ball rolling somehow, right? His “embarrassing” assertiveness was just a call to a game, a game he really really wanted to play.

Anyone who knows me, especially those of you from my pre-UD existence, knows that I do exactly this sort of thing. That is, I say something absolutely certain to offend, or provoke, someone into conversation. (Interesting people see these as invitations.) I do this because talking is what I like to do, and I need other people to join in and, preferably, someone to oppose me. You see, we boys don’t mean any harm by it, but how else can we get everyone to play along?

“You could ask, nicely.”

Wrong! What if you don’t want to play? Or don’t understand how much fun the game is? What if part of the game – and this is the fundamental point – is pretending it’s real life? For the little guy and myself, the game is no fun if nobody cares.

Some may wonder about this development of mine, that is, I used to be a George Eliot partisan. I certainly remain a lover of Middlemarch, but I no longer think Eliot has a leg up on Austen. They are different pleasures, simply.

“Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feeling towards him. She told the story however with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous.”

And, another part that brought me up into happiness:

Mr. Lucas: ‘What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy!- There is nothing like dancing after all.- I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies.’

Mr. Darcy: ‘Certainly, Sir;- and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world.- Every savage can dance.’”

If he exalts himself, I humble him.

If he humbles himself, I exalt him.

And I go on contradicting him

Until he understands

That he is a monster that passes all understanding.

- Pascal, Pensee 130

Which, by the way, has become a weird process for me over the past couple of years. Some time during my senior year at St. John’s, I became acutely aware of how non-sensical my thoughts get right before sleep. Just absolute random connections that make no sense and are probably even less coherent than a decent dream. Since I made this connection, these thoughts commonly prompt the thought “oh, I’m falling asleep.” At this point something terrible occurs. I am falling asleep, which is always some magical gift that I receive and not something upon which I can rely. And in the midst of that magical moment, before rest overtakes consciousness, I have this re-insertion of myself and become aware: “I am falling asleep” is a completely coherent thought. Often times followed by other coherent thoughts like “I hope I continue to fall asleep” or “what one earth was I thinking?” This is always a moment of slight alarm (because I really want to sleep) but sometimes of relief (because I am falling asleep). During the moments when I am alarmed, I purposely attempt to impel my mind back into senselessness, by recreating what thoughts had led me to it. (Recreating the exact thoughts that lead to senselessness is, I take it, not really responsible for the general success I have in falling asleep this way; rather, I’m just so tired that any concerted effort on the part of my brain matter leads it back into sleep, and therefore the senseless stage before sleep.)

Well, if any psychologists read this blog and want to analyze this sequence of brain activity, please do. If any of you have similar experiences, I would love to hear about them. That is, of course, if anyone reads this post. Anyway, it’s laundry day.

Happy Friday,

Cole

“I watch an insect and it falls on its back, unable to turn itself. I flip it over. Have I performed a miracle? When it repeats the action and I do nothing, am I cruel? Christians have always known that man is an animal.”

The answer is: yes and no.

Enter Eva Brann: here (sorry they won’t let me embed the video.)

Just listening to her talk about reading and learning made me happy. And not Nietzsche “I am the AWESOMEST PERSON IN THE WORLD” happiness but, “I like this world” happiness.

This is what I call an argument from sentiment and authority.

I mean, I still love Nietzsche. I am just, too, oh, what would old Friedrich say? “DAMN HERD ANIMAL. WHERE IS YOUR STRENGTH!? WHERE IS YOUR LAUGHTER!?” Well, Mr. Nietzsche, you laughed it out of me. For now.

“Leave Mr. Simmons’s fragile physiology alone, Nietzsche! He is but a Peasant Johnnie.”