Polonius- PWNed

I recently took a sabbatical from blogging for a trio of reasons: first, to mount a full-scale reading assault on Kevin Vanhoozer's Is There a Meaning in This Text? which represented a substantial allotment of cognitive dedication to say the least. Second, to ponder deeply the implications of media ecology upon any blog writing generally and mine particularly. Third, to establish significant breathing room between posts to allow thoughts to coalesce and mature. This point is really a subset of the second and a necessary consequence of taking that second point seriously and considering its ramifications.

Prior to the late 20th Century, the time between thinking a thought and publishing that thought (in any format- specifics are not of import at this point) was broader and allowed for dialogue between an author and his editor (acting as critic) as well as a thoughtful wrestling between the author and his or her text  before the text's submission to the reading world at large. This allows an author to reflect upon implications of her text, the illocutionary and perlocutionary force of passages within her text, the issue of whether she has shown responsible attentiveness to her sources, and a multitude of other such considerations which are often neglected in the world of instant publication and posting. My aim is to live with some of the ideas I'll be writing about for a season and grapple with all of the aforementioned issues by extending the time spent formulating the ideas I'll be dedicating to writing.

In light of this, my plan (if it can be dignified with that title) is to post less frequently but at greater length. Brevity may be the soul of wit, but let's face it: it's difficult to capture any idea and do it justice with less than 10,000 words. This doesn't mean I will never again post any snide machine gun strafings again (perish the thought!) but they will be few and far between, methinks. As with so many other things, we'll see how that pans out in real life, but after a thorough reflection I'm committed in head and heart to this methodology and excited to grow through the discipline it will require. Cheers!

The Fourth Will Be With You- Always or, "It's a Trap!"

If you were to stop and reflect upon Star Wars for any length of time (as I find myself so often doing), you'll realize that one the series' outstanding qualities is the peculiar fantasticity of its ensemble cast. Consider, for example, how greatly Return of the Jedi would suffer without Admiral Ackbar. You know- the fishy looking guy in the white suit with the huge black eyes coordinating the Rebel attack on the second Death Star. He's far from a primary character, but to expel him from the film would exponentially diminish the overall excellence of the saga's sixth installment. Admiral Ackbar owns that battle, and his mannerisms and dialogue are as key as Nien Nunb's (the Sallustan riding shotgun in the Millennium Falcon with Lando Calrissian).
Consider R2-D2 and C-3PO: hardly the stars of any of the films, but crucial nevertheless. No droids bailing for Tatooine in search of Obi Wan Kenobi = no Luke pwning the Death Star, ergo no Star Wars.

Chewbacca? None of his lines are even subtitled, but you know he's a massive force (no pun intended) in Episodes IV through VI. You know anyone else who can singlehandedly clear a room loaded with stormtroopers? True, you don't understand a word he's saying, but typically his tone conveys enough for you to get the picture.

And don't get me started on Wedge Antilles (possibly the finest fighter pilot in the galaxy after Anakin Skywalker!), Salacious Crumb (potentially the most annoying pet/creature/distraction thing to make Tatooine its home), IG-88 (robotic bounty hunter?), Boba Fett (only the coolest Mandalorian this side of the Ord Mantell!), Admiral Ozzel (who's as clumsy as he is stupid), Hobbie (Luke's not-so-lucky wingman on Hoth), R5-D4 (the malfunctioning droid who blows a fuse immediately after purchase by Uncle Lars), Admiral Needa (the one guy in the Imperial Navy who actually benefits from the fact that Darth Vader can force choke a dude from a Star Destroyer away), Jek Porkins (the unfortunately named first X-Wing pilot to bite the dust in A New Hope) and Roofoo! Who could forget Roofoo?

Roofoo: He doesn't like you.
Luke: I'm sorry.
Roofoo: I don't like you either. You just watch yourself. We're wanted men. I have the death sentence on twelve systems.
Luke: I'll be careful then.
Roofoo: You'll be dead!

That show of bravado leads directly to his buddy's arm getting chopped off by Sir Alec Guinness. Good work, bro.

The Star Wars Saga offers us a modern epic couched in the timeless archetypes of humanity's legendarium brought to life with vivid characterization and epoch-defining special effects. But even these notable and worthy achievements would prove more modest without an ensemble cast capable of thrusting the viewer wholeheartedly into the wider world of the films. Their idiosyncrasies lend credence to the suspension of disbelief which the story invites the viewer to participate and revel in. Without these unsung heroes, Star Wars truly would rank only as silver rather than gold. Cheers, gents!

Flapping Jaws Should Be Outlawed

Blast. That doesn't quite rhyme, dunnit?

We suffer no lack of public intellectuals in our current era. To our collective dismay, a vast seething mass of them are more of the former than they are the latter. Media outlets aren't interested in reasoned opinions- only opinions, and the more puerile, the better. Sophisticated arguments are mosaics of intricately crafted logic, ornamented with sumptuous jewels of wisdom. The mosaic's sheen is honed through patience, discipline, and insight gathered through seasons of experiment, disappointment, and periodic success. Treasure these, endeavor to learn their methodology, and appropriate their understanding and let the winds scatter the chaff of foolish prattle.

My boy Carl Trueman is thinking along a parallel trajectory in his latest Reformation 21 piece http://www.reformation21.org/articles/the-price-of-everything.php. Ponder, truly ponder the last line: "After all, most of what goes on today in the name of earth-shattering paradigm shifts has no value, whatever the price tag." I love idealistic cynics! Don't hate the player- hate the game.

Reactionary Post #376, or "Fool of a Took! Throw Yourself in Next Time and Rid Us of Your Stupidity!"

The internet, as Carl Trueman noted fairly recently, is bandit country. It's a wild and lawless place where anyone can get away with virtually anything and all without getting their hands dirty. The internet is the haven of cowards who can summon wagonloads of bluster and bravado on a message board or in the comments section of any given page, but in all likelihood are spineless provocateurs who could not look you in the eye in a verbal exchange here in the real world. Only when the impenetrable armor of online anonymity is donned are these craven sons of Belial prepared to hurl cheap cracks and idiotic insults at their opponents. They are able to do this because the internet is a medium which demands no integrity nor even ability to exploit. The internet is a fitting home to the likes of nobodies such as the 15th Century sailor who hears the report of Columbus' discovery and retorts, "Anyone can find North America- just sail west." Or the hack who hears a Chuck Berry guitar solo in 1958 and boasts, "Anyone can do that- it's just an E pentatonic scale and some overdrive." (insert huff of braggadocio here)

If "anyone" can accomplish those things, then why didn't you do it? Why is it that you haven't accomplished anything significant? Why are you bemoaning the world's lack of appreciation for your copious talents and your paradigm-toppling, revolutionary proposals? Because you have none. And that's why your worthless opinings find a home on the internet. That's why you slink in the shadows of forums for fear of the scrutiny of critics you can put a face to and hear speaking as they respond to your garbage.

The internet is the enemy of disciplined, reasoned thought and discourse. The internet sets no bar, has no criteria to be satisfied to allow a person to utilize its facilities. No sign at the entrance saying, "You must be this tall to ride." No quality control maintaining rigorous standards for contributions being offered. You just sign on- therein is the sole condition for usage. The internet is as unencumbered as so much of our speech is and that's why pirates thrive in its murky depths; the internet's complete and utter lack of entry level requisites ensures the reign of qwerty terrorists as barbarian overlords of the anarchic wasteland they find ripe for the picking.

And ill-informed arguments posted in an instantaneous fit of blind passion as a response to other ill-informed arguments hardly help the cause- it really only digs the hole deeper and plunges us a little further down into the dark. Any defensive retort is usually 66% hurt feelings, 30% wounded pride, and 4% reasoned out argument*. Don't give buffoons the benefit of a soapbox by responding. Buffoonery is eradicated by severing the root- the humiliation both of contempt and of being ignored. Buffoonery does not recognize the legitimacy of strategic withdrawal- it only responds all the fiercer to those that respond in kind. Beat their swords into plowshares and unravel the very arena of their combat by refusing to give buffoons the time of day. They are not worthy of even a second's time. Shake the digital dust from your web-surfing sandals and invoke your anathema by refusing to recognize their right to communicate. Dialogue is not being sought here- only wounds. When their insignificant provocations fail to elicit the responses they desired, these weeds will wither and die in the obscurity and shame of their laptop-lit bedroom fortresses.

If tomorrow six billion people woke up (not at the same time, obviously- I am aware that time zones exist) and reconsidered the importance and impact of the internet upon their lives and said, "Eh... I can live without it," I would click my heels in a giddy fit of joy. Not only because implicit within this arrangement is the fact that Facebook would go down in flames (as it should) but because most of the world's population would be ridding themselves of a carcinogenic parasite that poses itself as an angel of light. There's literally nothing worth having on the internet you cannot obtain through another, better medium. Convenience does not equal worthiness- quite the opposite is so, I would argue strongly. So what if six million books are available online in .pdf form? The attention span the internet facilitates and nurtures guarantees that I won't finish one of them before I abandon my reading and endeavor to look at something that is a waste of time. The internet does not foster the virtue of deferred gratification. Impulse is the normative principle here in the sinkholes of the world wide web.

What a cheery post!

Now, after wading through the grime of all these negative assertions, here's the manifesto expressed positively:
Do real things with real people.
Read real books.
Talk face to face.
Write letters that take a few days to get somewhere.
Call people. And take the time to frame and formulate what you're going to say before you say it.
Grow in patience.
Embrace the truth that anything worth having is worth waiting for.

None of these things are being typed by one who has arrived. Truth be told, I am one of the most impatient people I know. And obviously there's the fact that I'm posting something on the internet about the lousiness of the internet. The irony is not lost on me, I assure you**. And I text message like a Viking berserker marauds coastal settlements! I appeal to you brethren because all of these things ought not so to be, in my own case most of all because I am the one making the appeal. Would that we put no stock in the flurries of binary soaring around us every second, tempting us with instant fulfillment of our appetites and strapping us with vanity's dead weight! Would instead that we grow in wisdom and humility with the means that guarantee accountability and restraint, the means that connect us vitally with those who have preceded us, the means that bridge our own experience in our time to the rich history that encompasses the majority of human experience, the universal story so similar to our own in all but the least pertinent of details. May we all awaken from the stupor of technological progress and its resulting discontent and by the grace of the triune God recapture the joy of living and worshiping within the unfolding drama of redemption by taking hold of reality and the significant once more!


*These numbers aren't hyperbole! This is a serious diatribe here- of course I would only cite concrete, objective data...
**But riddle me this: why would I fly to Zurich if I wanted to address the people of Mombasa?

Official Facebook Bummer #3,762

Why do businesses bother having Facebook accounts? Is it to bank in on the privilege of having fake digital friends? Is it a shameless grab at "relevance?" Or is something much more insidious afoot?

It's vexing to drive past an auto repair shop and see on its sign, "Friend us on Facebook." "Friend" Jiffy Lube?? What in the world-? Why would anyone waste precious nanoseconds of time checking their news feed for updates from Jiffy Lube, or any other retail outlet with a Facebook account? What status is enjoyed by knowing that Home Depot is in your friends list? What possible benefit is there to having Barnes and Noble as another icon when you peruse your online social empire?

I think it's deeply revealing that "friend" has become a verb. Clicking "Yes" on a prefabricated request form somehow instantaneously confers that status upon another. Shouldn't there perhaps be a "Hand shake" request, then maybe a four week trial run of perfunctory introductions and small talk to at least somewhat simulate the beginning stage of real life relationships? After these two conditions are met, you could make mixes for each other and if they're halfway tolerable to each party, that would cement the burgeoning friendship.

Part of me assumes that "friending" Big Lots will prove to be as glib and inauthentic as most Facebook dealings are and will represent little more than another silhouette to paint on the side of your plane or another notch to put in your belt. Two similar sounding words ring in unison- "voluminous" and "vacuous." Voluminous because probably the sole reason someone would pursue Jiffy Lube's "friendship" is to pile on yet another integer in a friends count, vacuous because the substance of that "friendship" simply must give some kind of insight into the person's understanding of what being someone's friend actually means.

I presume it's only a matter of time before the UN gets a Facebook, and in all likelihood the WWF and the CIA fill follow suit soon afterwards. At that time impersonal electronic masquerades will fully and finally clench online networking within its icy grip and extinguish every vestige of humanity from the world wide web. The internet will become a necropolis, a massive monument preserving the dead, a shrine to marvel at the splendor that was once a living entity, frozen forever in its final form and venerated.



Yes, the internet is a tool- but so is a hammer. We don't ever see anyone friending a hammer (and if we do, we lock them up because they're clearly cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs). Pet Rocks made more sense, because you actually possess the rock! (I'm not recommending you go buy a rock, but if you chuckle at the absurdity of that idea, ponder again the thrust of what I've been saying.) Jimmy Stewart's invisible 6' 3 1/2" tall rabbit buddy in "Harvey" is more logical! Go to Jiffy Lube, certainly, if the price is right and the service is above average, but for heaven's sake, don't "friend" them, unless you already make a habit of sending them letters and dropping by and seeing how everyone is doing.

And if you do do that... you're nuttier than a Pay Day bar and probably just straight up weird.

To close the "Harvey" loop I opened a few moments ago, I recall now a key line from the film that I should probably ponder a little more often: "Years ago, my mother used to say to me, she'd say: 'In this world, Elwood,' she always used to call me Elwood. 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh, so smart or oh, so pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. And you can quote me."

Thank you, Jimmy Stewart. Give my regards to Clarence!