Noah: Neither/Nor

On March 29th, Matt Walsh wrote a wedgie-twisting diatribe on Aronofsky's Noah, describing the film as "the most insipid, absurd, unimaginative, clumsily contrived piece of anti-Christian filmmaking to come along since, well, probably just last week."

And Brett McCracken roundly praised it: "Most importantly I believe the film — which ends up being an epic somewhere between Tolkien’s The Two Towers and Shakespeare’s Hamlet — retains the theological themes of the Noah story, powerfully bringing to life a 'second Eden' tale that highlights both the justice and mercy of the Creator, a God of grace and second chances."

Neither/nor.

Darren Aronofsky's Noah is not a flimsy, foppish anti-biblical attack on bull-pig-pseudo-Christian America, nor is it a great flower of Western culture. It is a somewhat interesting exploration of the Noahic themes that yet struggles to portray a convincing interpersonal conflict.

But let us first clarify something very pertinent if we are to avoid Walshian troubles.

Noah's success as a work of art is the only relevant plane on which it may be evaluated. The rest is observation and commentary, valuable to a point, but not ... well ... all that relevant in judging a film ... at which point I inadvertently stumble into a quote by Kierkegaard: "Anyone who is something, and is something essentially, possesses 'eo ipso,' the claim to be recognized for exactly this special thing, and for nothing more or less." (The Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an Actress)

For instance, if you found Noah offensive, this may be because you misunderstand the presuppositions of the movie theater. When one enters a playhouse or a movie theater, it is with the expectation that he is going to see a play or a movie, respectively. He is going to see a good story. On less frequent occasions, he may see a political, historical, or religious documentary.

However, Noah is not advertised as a documentary. It is advertised as an epic story that postures a man named Noah as its central figure. In no fashion is the film represented as "the biblical tale" or "the literal, word-by-word retelling of the flood story with fancy moving pictures". The lack of boundaries from preexisting material allows the story to be what it is, and this is true of any film. At the same time, those boundaries allow a certain depth by implied allusion, but that's another story. ;)

As a fictional story in the form of a movie, Noah proffers some worthy considerations, some new perspectives that invigorate the perceived dustiness of the OT story. As Brett McCracken posed:

• What was the mindset of Noah (who, apart from Gen. 9:25-27, never actually speaks in the biblical narrative) during this crazy episode in his life? What did his family think? What were the interactions between Noah and the wicked population doomed for destruction? Did Noah have a relationship with his grandfather Methuselah (Anthony Hopkins)? The film explores all of this in the spirit of midrashic interpretation, and takes the story far beyond the source material. Some of it works and some of it doesn’t, but (as far as I can tell) none of it directly contradicts anything in the biblical account. 

Unfortunately, there is contradiction. And I say "unfortunately" not for any other reason than that the introduction of a wifeless Ham is indeed "unimaginative". Were the story of Noah wholly new to us, the conflict perhaps may have worked. But as this story is woven so deeply into the fabric of the Western imagination, we see Aronofsky's manipulation as irresponsible in light of the artistic tradition. It appears that the director could not sufficiently develop the themes offered from centuries of paintings, sculpture, stained glass, and oral tradition, and thus sought to embellish a tale of such a magnitude that it renders significant alteration laughable if not incredibly pretentious.

There are certain departures in the film that are very interesting, but they find their origin in a profuse mythological structure: the Nephilim/rock angels, the wicked men/industrialists, the dramatic visions of "death by water".

Another very interesting departure is Noah's psychosis regarding the destruction of humanity, including his own grandchildren. This too could have more effectively provided a profound insight were his psychosis not so sudden in onset and not so drawn-out as to bore the viewer. The complexities of such a psychomachia were also obscured by their external consequences: Emma Watson all freaked out, Noah's wife in a tearful rage, Shem getting violent.

Overall, the film has an unfinished feeling to it, some major mashwork in the plot that brings it to its knees. However, we are certain of what the film is -- a colorful but limping depiction of an ancient myth -- and what it is not -- a bible-school-friendly reenactment or a primordial Hamlet.

As for Russell Crowe's performance: fairly compelling. Fairly. He is proof that it is possible to be a well-skilled actor while completely lacking discrimination. It may be that this record will mar his oeuvre as it has his ethos.

Regardless, I think that the film is worth watching as long as you fast-forward a bit through the arduous annoyance of life on the ark during the flood.

A Challenge to the Pro-Life Establishment

Abortion and the Postmodern Imagination

"If the law purports to require actions that no-one should ever do, it cannot rightly be complied with; one's moral obligation is not to obey but to disobey....If the lawmakers (i) are motivated not by concern for the community's common good but by greed or vanity (private motivations that make them tyrants, whatever the content of their legislation), or (ii) act outside the authority granted to them, or (iii) while acting with a view to the common good apportion the necessary burdens unfairly, their laws are unjust and in the forum of reasonable conscience are not so much laws as acts of violence....Such laws lack moral authority, i.e. do not bind in conscience; one is neither morally obligated to conform nor morally obligated not to conform." 

"All who govern in the interests of themselves rather than of the common good are tyrants....Against the regime's efforts to enforce its decrees, one has the right of forcible resistance; as a private right this could extend as far as killing the tyrant as a foreseen side-effect of one's legitimate self-defence."

-- from the Summa Theologica of Thomas Aquinas

Today, I go to work, wait anxiously for lunch time, sit outside and bask contemplatively in the play of sunlight through oak leaves, turn quickly into the building at the appointed time, let the last hours of rushing and typing and talking fly by, and go home to entertain myself with -- maybe -- a short read and certainly a show or two. Cigarette and wine after cycling and water. Aestheticizing. Bed.

Tomorrow, I will behave similarly, and perhaps call it "the holiness of the ordinary". 

In fact, many Americans will do likewise. They will be educated, self-educating, confident, secure, and moderately sane. They will be capable of thoroughly and admirably condemning the social ills around them, especially in the company of friends, of making sweet moan about the many seething injustices that exist almost by default in our rotten society. They will swear, philosophize, and prophesy. 

They will go out to eat on weekends, sleep in on Saturdays, mow the lawn, hate and love themselves -- with a little more love than hate -- and live quotidianly.

Aestheticizing on the non-despairing hope of helplessness as parousia slowly grows nearer.

The Metamorphosis of Narcissus, Salvador Dali

We only do what we like. We go off to die in wars when peace is hell. When peace is not quite hell, but a fine balance of leisure and self-deceit of salvation, we can endure.

And hence the ever-crumbling edifice of abortion yet lingers.

There was a story a few years ago about a woman who stood her ground as a large man armed with a hammer beat her door down. Her two children were with her in the house, and she was going to protect them. She told as much to the 911 dispatcher. When the man rushed through the door, she shot him full in the chest with a 12-gauge shotgun. 

We consider it right and just to kill a man who would harm an innocent. The woman in the story had no charges placed against her. 

We consider it admirable to defend a human life, admirable because it is a difficult duty. We would call a soldier a coward who hid as his wounded brethren were murdered. We call soldiers heroes who defend their country, placing themselves in the sight of death in order to kill.

In keeping with this consideration, we ourselves organize large marches on Washington, elaborate displays of passion with no follow-through. ...

The citizens of the capitol prepare their businesses for great profit, concerts are organized, politicians make seasonal speeches pantomiming deep commitment to the cause, friends meet and talk, tourism abounds, and everyone goes home fat and happy. Thanks for coming, pro-lifers. See you next year!

And the intellectuals aestheticizing on leisure in a sinking world, waiting for the sun to liven gray tendrils that pull forth dawn.

Our moral fantasy is our great masque of protestation. It is a device of self-preservation, an intellectual necessity if we are to maintain personal safety, and, furthermore, comfort, convenience. Our great masque: our legality, our passive inoffensiveness, our pattering-about on sidewalks. 300,000 strong could shake a country. 300,000 strong could certainly shake a capitol. ISIS is not nearly so strong. But we are poor stewards of our flesh, and allow the murders.

Indeed, we have such complex rationalizations which we describe as peace, patience, humility, hope. Unfortunately, these are in practice fear, sloth, helplessness, anxiety.

We permit the mutilation and murder of innocent human beings. Right now. This minute. And the next.

The plea through the courts has been accomplished. The plea has been rejected (Cf. 1973). This was, in truth, a declaration of war. Those who met that devil's declaration -- priests who chained themselves to the doors -- are now despised and ridiculed for tarnishing the reputation of the cause.

This should be a ready sign: that we put on a pretty face for murder. "Listen to us, postmodern society. We're legitimate!" we whine.

And the intellectuals just waiting and aestheticizing. Not helping the psychosis of the masses.

And any mention of physical resistance is met with the argument that it would be paradox. An unworkable contradiction.

An unworkable contradiction is declaring abortion to be the most heinous evil we now suffer and standing by while the perpetrator struts from his Bentley to the clinic door.


This is a posture against hope.


The revolution in policy will begin. And if it does not, then ISIS will have been our moral superior: they annihilate what they perceive to be evil.

Ships in the Night

Cycle of Terror, Graydon Parrish

Many of us are very concerned with our surrogate morality of politics.



From this base we mobilize against the enemies of our rights, gracing our elegant platitudes with the Constitution's old lace. Thus we are kept secure and fervent for awhile. We cannot be assailed in our perfection of doctrine. Is there anyone more doctrinal than one American trying to prove a legal point to another. 

It's not a question.

We often hear we should respect the office of the president even if we do not respect the man. This is perhaps not so clear or shocking as the greater fabric of propaganda that feeds the American desire of divine imperial right, of secular sanctity. Jupiter and Jefferson, Neptune and Ben Franklin.

Our Pantheon, like any which is untrue, is manipulable, subject to the requirements of the time. Our views and values shift, some towards decay, others toward growth and fertility. I am not suggesting that allowing our political system to change as development requires is inadvisable. But allowing our political construct, which is intrinsically changeable, to become the basis by which we measure the human good -- to allow popular consensus to override the necessity of moral considerations -- is deranged.

Since when has the populace en masse been a moral authority. It has become the surrogate morality.

Those who support gay rights may very well have a legal basis for doing so. But considering a woman may choose to sue a family if her child hurts himself of his own fault on said family's property, or considering the hypocrisy of asserting the "right to choose" whilst forcing religious institutions to forgo that right, who should place his faith in the republic?

It becomes more and more apparent that supporters of gay rights are not a minority. They are making slow headway toward the achievement of their ironic goal. This is the public thing. It is a part of the ideological doctrine, and it will be enforced.

So why debate the issue on the legal plane? Why discuss in the arena a question of fundamental import to the understanding of the human person and his dignity. The sanctuary in the stock exchange.

I don't believe that the majority of those concerned with the effects of homosexuality on the cultural -- and indeed the personal -- sphere give two little lumps of refuse about what is legally sanctioned in the United States of America, or any other state for that matter. The question has political implications, sure, but it is, at its root, a theological discussion requiring a holistic approach.

Hence the absurdity of claiming a political institution such as civil marriage as a sort of banner of moral rectitude. Civil marriage is ultimately an agreement between two human beings who do not necessarily understand the spiritual significance of human relations. Civil marriage is something surfeit, another part of that ideological framework that says freedom is doing what one likes. It even speaks to the machinery of capitalism, the form of the business agreement. Civil marriage is for one or both parties who are not yet capable of acknowledging the transformational significance of sacramental marriage.

Doubtless, there is meaning if the promises made are kept, but that meaning derives from the secular desire to give just as much as one must without sacrificing the farcical ideal of the autonomous self. Moreover, let us remember that the official acts with the authority vested by the state.

The state is a format. It is not an authority. It's the clothes we wear, and no one needs a talking hat (unless there are some magical, faerie qualities of which I am unaware).

In the end, if same-sex unions are permitted, nothing will have been proved. It will simply be fact. Arbitration du jour.

Deep ontological disturbance will remain beneath the animal accretions of the postmodern self who seeks to war in arrogance like a prancing bird of paradise in its alpha display. See me. Love me. That is my only cry though it is the burning song of hatred.

Finally, the postmodern homosexualist rests his argument upon the naught. If his rationale is "liberal" and "progressive", then it has foundations in youthful inexperience and discounted sophism. If it is based on the state, then it is simply unseasonal (if he is trying to prove the goodness of homosexual acts). Freedom is meaningless if used to refer to a political "right". "Goodness" is meaningless if dressed in the same trappings. We determine the state. It does not determine us.

The only determination that is meaningful will be a discussion on a theological basis: what is the meaning of man? And the "progressive" "liberal" must join if he is to be considered. Otherwise, his cries are irrelevant, his attempted discrediting of religion (from a position of postmodern secular doctrine) laughable. The cart does not lead the horse: politics must nod to the wisdom of religion. Things go badly when they do not.

This is not a question that the state can answer or was designed to answer. The impending legislation is asinine: posterior end first. Again, the state can rise, fall, remain with a limping mediocrity -- this has no bearing on the question of what is right, what is good, what is fitting. Parties on either side of this debate must not be afraid to abandon the town hall (if it becomes a center of propagandizing) for the churches and universities.

I would start with an in-depth consideration of John Paul II's positive explication of human sexuality, which is not based on a fervid desire to discount the validity of homosexuality, but a desire to understand man. Hence, you will not find the popular phraseology you seek. Bring your anti-ego.

He starts from the beginning. Head first.


See Susannah Black's Brave New Cold War

"College Kids" and the Narrative of Egotism

Money, Frantisek Kupka

Short of brimming with delighted anticipation at the next years harvest of ripe young graduates ready to enter the professional world, employers seem less than enthused.

They publish articles describing why they refuse to hire college graduates, and generally project an air of disapprobation, at best.  And why not? College graduates lack, well, everything needed to succeed in the North American sea of capitalistic furor.

And indeed, there are a host of reasons for this failure to be perfect.

But let us examine the disposition that allows resentment toward the ignorant.

Why are employers actively en garde against the little-cocky-twerps-who-think-they-know-everything who veritably drown HR department in resumes (as instructed)?

I submit that all of the popular reasons are a farce.

The modern corporate employer seems to suffer from a sort of amnesia regarding human nature and personal development. Either he is a totally disconnected father of college-aged children, or he is somewhere in the range between 35-45 and his children are still at home.

Is there any reason to think that college graduates should know better than the corporate employer the difficult and only semi-permeable sphere they are trying to access. Is it any wonder that graduates are inexperienced, unskilled (regarding a potential employer's values), and immature? No. It is, however, increasingly wondrous how immature men of power can be in their disbelief in the face of youth.

But this disbelief reveals them. This disbelief betrays them as credulous little boys and girls who seem to think that human dignity can be stratified into castes, that the college graduate is an opponent, an entity to be staved off, an invasive species that will set upon their financial security like locusts in a cornfield.

Is there anything more childish than attempting to blame someone for circumstances which are beyond his control? The college graduate "lacks interviewing skills", as Mr. O'Toole so kindly informs us. But isn't this a no-brainer?  Of course he lacks interviewing skills. How many interviews has he experienced?

Why does the modern corporate employer seek what cannot be found? Why does he endeavor to discover a fully grown whale in a tide pool? Either he is stupid (quite possible) or he is attempting to defend what he believes to be his very self: a position of pride, power, wealth, and enviability.

Symptomatic of an abortive culture, the employer hates the youth because they signify his death, his imminent irrelevance, the loss of his having. They signify humanity, and the employer has forgotten that humaneness does not sustain selfishness.

Reveling in his fortress, the employer ironically dispossesses himself of every professional "skill" he claims the graduate lacks: "communication skills", "interpersonal skills", adaptability. If the corporate employer owned any of these, he would not be concerned about the host of unknowing humans entering the workforce.

He would instead acknowledge that they -- as he himself had learned -- will learn the ways of men and women. He would acknowledge that new eyes uncover unknown possibilities. He would instead focus on training up these young minds to receive the great task, and the great debts, that will be laid upon their shoulders. He would be apologetic about messing everything up instead of arrogant about his own achievements. He would not look for their faults, but seek their virtues, and thus accelerate their education by encouragement. He would not see them as a threat, but as both a responsibility and a blessing.

Instead of proffering a throw-back to freshman year's clashing ivory towers of faux-intellectualism, the corporate employer would display a wise bearing, a patient hand. He would make that windowless office seem appealing.

As it is, the bully mocks the blind beggar. But one doesn't need so much reliance upon analogy when, straight from the horse's mouth, he hears "You were two minutes late."

The youth may make some changes.


(And if we take a closer look at Mr. O'Toole's lovely slideshow, we might just notice that the more young graduates feign knowledge and experience, the more likely they are to be hired. He loves the glitz. What a shiny door to an empty vault. Maybe corporate America is empty after all. ;) )

The Community of Culture

La Soledad, Carlos Saenz de Tejada

When we speak of "culture", we are often referring to a sort of status quo, the condition of education, technology, science, and the arts that we experience in our daily lives. We often refer to "culture" as if it is something without agency, something "out there", without considering our own participation in its formation. It may be for this very reason that we often fail to challenge our own actions, our own way of life, our stock viewpoints -- we see culture as an accumulation of practices and values that may be verbally dispensed and objectively discussed, but which have little interrelation with the manner in which we order our existence. 

Notwithstanding, the word "culture" carries certain connotations. We make judgements about culture because it may contain positive or negative elements. It may be a "culture of death", which is an oxymoron for, according to the frighteningly powerful Google machine, our usage of "culture" derives from

• Middle English (denoting a cultivated piece of land): the noun from French culture or directly from Latin cultura ‘growing, cultivation’; the verb from obsolete French culturer or medieval Latin culturare, both based on Latin colere ‘tend, cultivate’ (see cultivate). In late Middle English the sense was ‘cultivation of the soil’ and from this (early 16th cent.) arose ‘cultivation (of the mind, faculties, or manners)’; sense 1 of the noun dates from the early 19th cent.

Hence, we comment upon practices that are retrogressive for culture, that facilitate the accession of the inhumane, the violent, the brutish, the ignorant. (Recently, Brett McCracken commented upon the attitude in American culture (another oxymoron? not always) of "fame for fame's sake" and the prostitution of art for recognition of the ego (e.g. Lady Gaga, Jay-Z, etc.).)

If we make assertions of value in reference to culture, then we recognize that humanity is responsible for culture, and thence that we are individually responsible, for our part, for the state of culture. We recognize, too, that "culture" is not merely a label for what is, but a concept defined by continual movement toward excellence in all things human (e.g. education, technology, science, the arts).

Matthew Arnold, the 19th century British critic, describes culture as "the pursuit of light and perfection", and explains that "light and perfection consist, not in resting and being, but in growing and becoming, in a perpetual advance in beauty and wisdom" (Culture and Anarchy).

Immediately great names come to mind: Plato, Homer, Virgil, Dante -- the list goes on. The list goes on indeed ... but why do these cultural monoliths stand so solitary against the dark background of history? Why does not a great host of luminous figures swarm around them, equal or greater to the tide of human depravity and squalor?

The modern world is not devoid of cultured minds: Karol Wojtyla, Walker Percy, Arvo Part, Krzysztof Kieslowski. Yet they stand in almost diametric opposition to the crass flashing of famous names in headlines and on the little black boxes of misinformation that constantly invade our homes. Their names are not heard so loudly nor so very often as those which strive harder and harder not to be forgotten like  the finite novelty of autumnal leaves.

Perhaps because they are taproots, hidden and essential. One must dig to find them, and one must get dirty. And one must not leave the soil disturbed.

Why is the community of culture small? The community of culture is the community of the human. The human calls these facets of himself "culture" in order to distinguish them from the spoiling diction of faddism that pervades postmodern society. The human must constantly distinguish himself from that which fades. The human does not fade.

You often hear older people, when they mention the names of actors, films, musicians that no one else knows remarking upon how this particular knowledge dates them, how it is a sign of aging, a movement toward obscurity, disconnection from youth. But the youth are equally old if they speak of what their parents do not know or do not care to know.

The old betray their youth by not caring about Kardashian or whoever's next on the altar of sensationalism. The youth betray their age by caring. To be human is to learn and cling to excellence. That is a perpetual youth, a perpetual becoming, an ever-widening beauty.

And so our culture may be called a "culture of death" in many ways, one being that it clings not to the excellent, which is universal and enduring, but to the ephemeral, which is just that.

If you find yourself lonely in such a milieu, consider this.

Are you infatuated with the esoteric (pride)? Do you wrap yourself in fantasy to deny reality (e.g. the infamous MMORPG, niched obsessions, etc.)? Do you choose to be? Or are you lonely because the way of enculturation is difficult -- the road obscure, the company often silent, the goal something as seemingly unattainable as sainthood?

It is not merely the place of cultural icons to effect culture. It is the way of culture -- the way of the human -- to come out and speak, to stand one's ground among others and assert whatever merited authority one may possess. To share and to accept, certainly, but to be firm in the right.

At the base of the mountain is the battle against physical endangerment, which allows no possibility for culture. The battle against the enemies of culture (e.g. sloth, sentimentalism, political platforming, etc.) ranges in a thicker wood at a higher tier. It is even more essential to the becoming of humanity. Undoubtedly, it is a gift to be here. But it is a curse if we fail our nature and submit to the mediocre strummings, cooings, and ooings of pop folk or the abstract unartistic assertions of obscurantist "postmodern" writers or directors. They wrap the status quo in mysterious trappings and bring despair in the unveiling. Artist's shit (Cf. Duchamp).

There is always a subculture trying to be avant-garde. It is always subculture.

So let your heart be abused. Seek the shifting sifted community of culture that wants to be as best it can. People of culture see the world in its wholeness. They decry and forgive and bring in lost sheep. They acknowledge their own silly sheepishness. But they never stop striving after every ounce of unounceable eternity. They are sometimes artists, sometimes laymen, sometimes clergy, and often on low salaries. But they always try to get the world to listen with the lovingest things. At the same time, they do not reduce truth, beauty, goodness. They do not put pearls forth to be trampled by swine.

Critics called director Eric Rohmer's La Collectioneuse boring. They could not see it.

I therefore encourage you, my friends, not to forget the unity of all things, and how what is separate must be brought together, how the world fights itself but nevertheless tends to communion. To wait is not so bad as to despair and lose oneself to postmodern animalism. Do not fall to easy emotions. Be vigilant. If it were easy it would not be itself. Increase in the virtue of finding loneliness -- beauty awaits the contemplative and forbearing mind. Find and give the lovingest things. You may die cold, quiet, and alone like God.

II. Trois Couleurs: Rouge

Valentine, played by Irene Jacob, is beautiful, vivacious, passionate, assertive. We want to sympathize with her. Her personality is sweetened by a certain scent of innocence that causes us to desire identification with her, to simultaneously fall in love with her.

Indeed, her supreme beauty is central to this part of Kieslowski's trilogy.

A very important moment arrives, however, in the studio where she is photographed as a model. We see her sitting there, artificial wind blowing her wet hair about her face. And at the word from the photographer -- "triste" -- her beauty is transformed by an unutterable sorrow.

Although Valentine has suffered -- her brother a heroin addict, her mother an unforgiven adulteress -- we are given the sense that she has called forth this emotion from outside -- it is borrowed, learned, used for theatrics, but perhaps without completely genuine content.

And in rushes forcefully another theme of the film: external, supernatural movements that intimately interact with the willed movements of the film's characters. An overarching wellspring of meaning and purpose -- a silent smiling whisper in which Valentine, Auguste, and the old judge participate without creating.

We humans can name sorrow, joy, fear, but we cannot know them in their full intensity at any given moment. We can, however, experience little hints of that memory of humanity, what some call the historical memory or collective memory. In my mind, this refers to God, who after all is one of us in a way none of us can be. He is more human than we are, and he is the origin of every sense. Because of this, I think, we have access to feelings that are not our own, access to at least an awareness of the depth of human feeling, desire -- due to our necessary and constant connection with him: complete dependence, our drawing of life from him. We draw everything from him.

Such a beauty illustrated in this film. The old judge reflects upon his life, his decline in sourness and cynicism grown from an experience of betrayal. And who grants him knowledge of this?

As a voyeur, he seeks knowledge to which he has no right. But none of it grants him any insight into his own condition. It is precisely through knowledge gratis that he is able to understand himself, and to love once more.

The beauty and love of the hint. God is a life-hack. I beseech you to give yourself to these films. God love you.

Irene Jacob on Rouge and Kieslowski:

Freedom in a Culture of Hotdogs and Scapegoats

Self Portrait, Istvan Ilosvai Varga

Rene Girard speaks of a tension that necessarily arises in society with many individuals seeking the same thing. This tension, for Girard, has most evidently in ancient cultures involved a scapegoat. For instance, in Aztec culture, a scapegoat was offered up to the gods in satisfaction. In turn, those who offer the sacrifice require a remediation of their hurts and the bestowal of what they desire.

When we think of this current in American culture, we may encounter some fairly astounding revelations regarding our use of scapegoats and the ends we seek by external sacrifice. The world has its own Lent, its own process by which it seeks to approximate itself to the things it values. America, in brief, values a peculiar definition of freedom. 

This concept of freedom is manifested more or less materially: the trappings of pleasure (e.g. boys and cars, girl and boats, the NFL), laws protecting entitlement (e.g. welfare, separation of church and state, and the incoming so-called “gay marriage” laws), and convenience (e.g. internet, pre-nuptial agreements, contraception).

Freedom involves sacrifices. Egotism threatens freedom; violence threatens freedom; intellectual oppression destroys freedom – these are not welcome in a free society. Quite often, however, we conflate two different concepts, and in doing so place human rights in danger of utter loss. These two concepts are 1) free will and 2) freedom. 

Free will refers to the inherent and obvious capacity of a human being to choose one thing or the other: a sandwich or a smoothie (not green). 

Freedom refers to a state of being in which the human is able to make the best possible choice without hindrance (e.g. “I will better myself and no one can stop me”). The concept of “freedom” thus involves the moral idea of goodness, whereas the concept of “free will” allows for both good and evil. This is simply a matter of defining terms. 

Many Americans use “freedom” in the sense of “free will”, and truly believe that they may do as they please whilst they dwell in this country. Of course, they will enter into argument about how their sense of “freedom” depends upon the cultural context in which they were raised. However, this cultural context is ever-shifting: the argument means nothing if the concept of “freedom” can change at the whim of the masses. How can we define “freedom” if the word becomes unmanageable due to uncertain content? 

And America has multiple cultural contexts! Oh, the rabbit trails we could run.

We could ask the contextualist, “And so ‘freedom’ could refer to a position of complete oppression depending on the context in which it is used? This is simply a matter of language, then. You are using one word which previously had one meaning to refer to another. How can one know what he values, then? How can we discuss this thing called a ‘cultural value’? And if we assert that freedom is changing, how can we decry the dictatorship?” Indeed, we do not decry the dictatorship.

What the American is truly trying to say is that he has the right not to be bothered by any doubt of his correctness in living how he chooses to live, and he will deflect any doubts with whatever means necessary, including casting doubt upon the value of language and its ability to order our world. Language even becomes a scapegoat. When language becomes a scapegoat (it hasn’t worked with us), this is a sign that the self is willing to sacrifice his communion with other human beings in order to have whatever he craves. The autonomous self – the dead self.

In the end, the sense intended is this: “Freedom”, for many Americans, refers to uninhibited will.

However, as we see in effect today, this uninhibited will often clashes with the will of others. What is needed to mollify the escalating anxiety caused by the infringement upon our will by another? A scapegoat. To preserve a semblance of peace, the members of society come together at various points – waves reach over the sandbar and touch. As long as the scapegoat is there, society may go on with its mediocre state of temporary pacification. When the scapegoat disappears, war – the waves clash.

And what preserves our American stasis, our lone wolf syndrome of doing what one likes? What preserves our pleasure, entitlement, convenience?

• We all believe that love can and should die.
• We all believe that children can and should die if they interrupt our particular phase of life.
• We all believe that the enemies of uninhibited will should be scorned and defaced.
• We believe in the dead self, a hatred of self sold as a love of self.

And if these things hold our society together, they are like the abyss that opens in the ground, so that the walls of earth seem to join as they collapse, falling inward upon themselves. We commune only when we wish to break apart, and we shall break apart if we do not commune.

The self is not autonomous. It depends upon its intricate bonds to other members of society for survival, comfort, and even personality. When it begins to sever these bonds for the cry of mere inclination, it ceases, in unsustainable ways, to be human. It distorts nature and bends her to its will like Kim Jong Un, Hussein, Hitler. Imagine the horror and the isolation of an entire nation of “autonomous selves”, each attempting to sacrifice each because of the turmoil caused within, until the scapegoat becomes the self in that final surfeit of guilt that is yet a selfish act. Alone in a bunker with cyanide.

And true guilt? The answer that G.K. Chesterton gave to the question, “What’s wrong with the world?”:

 “I am.”

This is freedom.




"It is a poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish"
-- Mother Theresa of Calcutta