And now the earthquakes

 

If I were possessed of a certain theological bent -- or if I was a huckster televangelist trying to scare people -- I would be out in the streets suggesting that wildfires, plagues, earthquakes and all the rest are God's judgment on humanity.

I feel sad about Rod Dreher

 I used to enjoy reading Rod Dreher.

Dreher blogs these days at The American Conservative, but I first started paying attention to him back when he wrote regularly at Beliefnet. His social conservatism was never going to be my own, but I admired what appeared to be an independent cast of mind: He was a conservative who opposed the Iraq War, who questioned capitalism's corrosive effects on our souls, who sought out community, who righteously bore witness to sexual abuse in the Catholic Church, and left that church because of it. There were alarming moments in his writing -- a seeming hatred of Muslims, a disregard for immigrants that seemed un-Christian. But for the most part, he seemed thoughtful and generous of spirit. He modeled a kind of conservative thinking that these days I find best representative in writers like Alan Jacobs and David French. I don't always agree with their viewpoints either, but I sometimes learn from them.

Over the last few years, Dreher's writing has curdled into something mean and hard. I don't want to play armchair psychologist, but the shift seems to date from his book, "The Little Way of Ruthie Lemming," and a realization of how completely his small-town family hated and rejected him for his cosmopolitcan ways. I hate that he experienced that -- the end of "Lemming" was shattering to me, frankly.

But where Dreher once seemed curious and generous-spirited, he transformed into one of the most-shrill writers around. A lot of this was focused on sex -- his disdain and hatred for gay and transgender people defines most of his writing these days. Even when it seemingly makes no sense: He went out of his way this week to point out that the author of "In Defense of Looting" is transgender. (In the comments, he said he thought the author's "disordered" mind explained the defense of looting.) 

Dreher roots much of his writing in a Christian morality. But he applies his standards -- and his compassion -- differently to different kinds of people. This is what he wrote* about Kyle Rittenhouse, who stands accused of killing two people in Kenosha:

I’ve said it here before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t see Kyle Rittenhouse as a hero or a villain. I see him as a tragic figure, a kid who inserted himself into a situation where he didn’t belong, and that was way, way over his head. He meant well, but he shouldn’t have been there.

He also wrote about Breonna Taylor, who was killed in her bed by police, but who "had been involved romantically with Jamarcus Glover, a drug-dealing thug."

What happened to George Floyd, Jacob Blake, and Breonna Taylor would not have surprised a man like my father. Floyd was a career criminal and a drughead. Blake was a violent man too. Taylor’s extended romantic relationship with a career criminal brought her to ruin. All of these cases, regardless of how they are adjudicated in a court of law, would have been seen by my father as examples of what happens to people who refuse to live by the Tao (I mean this in the C.S. Lewis sense of “natural law”), or who entangle themselves with those who refuse to live by the Tao. 

So. Dreher is sympathetic of Rittenhouse, a young man who armed himself with a gun, went looking for trouble and found it. But he stands in judgment of Taylor, who found herself caught in a crossfire because of police mistakes.

We all have our rooting interests, I suppose. But Dreher applies a harsher moral standard to a woman who has been killed than the young man who killed. His morality -- the thing that defines him -- makes excuses for some and blame for others. It is ugly. I used to enjoy reading Dreher, and admired his independence of mind. Now, he just looks like a cautionary tale to me.

*I don't feel like linking him. His articles are easy enough to find if you want.

If it's too loud...

Old and busted: If it's too loud, you're too old.

New hotness: If it's too loud, you're my son.

"I can't hear myself think!" he shouted at me in the kitchen just now, while the radio was playing some energetic songs from my youth.

Two possibilities: He does not possess a rock n' roll soul.

Or I'm getting old and have all my electronics turned up to high volume because ... that's what I did when I was young and now my hearing is ruined.

It's possible both are true.

Personal note about the writing process

After 25-plus years in journalism, I can pretty easily write 700-1,000 words in one sitting -- sometimes, depending on the topic and how much reporting and research have been done ahead of time, I can hit 1,000 words in about an hour. And they're usually coherent! It's one skill I know I have.

The last few years, though, I've done a few more reported magazine-style pieces. Not terribly lengthy -- usually in the 2,500-word range -- and, hoo boy. It's a whole different process. It's not just longer. I have to think my way through the structure of a piece more. And I have to be willing not to do it in one setting -- the attempt can nearly destroy me. 

Instead, I have to break the work up -- writing for an hour here, an hour there, until I get my draft. I'm accustomed to a "see the assignment, write the assignment" kind of process, so slowing down and taking chunks is unfamiliar to me. It requires me to stretch my skills and even learn new ones. It is not in my comfort zone. But it seems worth doing. Not just because I get paid for it (though that's important) but because it helps me stay fresh. This is hard stuff. Which, in this case, means it's worth doing.

The frustrating silence of John Kelly

 I am sorry that the death of John Kelly's son has become a political issue, but I am not sympathetic to this: 

But Mr. Kelly, who served for more than 40 years in the Marines, has told associates that a retired four-star general should not come out against a sitting president in the heat of a political campaign, even though former Defense Secretary Jim Mattis, another retired four-star Marine general, publicly criticized Mr. Trump in June for lacking “mature leadership” and trying to divide rather than unite the country.

“He wants to avoid taking a position that might be perceived as political,” said Gen. Anthony C. Zinni, a retired four-star Marine Corps general and a close friend of Mr. Kelly, who had not spoken to him since the publication of the Atlantic article. “I also think he takes to heart the commitment to confidentiality in matters related to their interaction with the president.”

I don't buy it.

If Kelly wanted to preserve his neutrality as a former four-star general he shouldn't have taken on the political roles of Secretary of Homeland Security and chief of staff to this president. He chose to enter the realm of politics. His asserting of military neutrality is a bit late, then, and only works to obscure the deficiencies of the president. It's an excuse -- one that serves Trump, not the American people.

So...

 ...I am honestly trying to figure out what value I can create at this blog, rather than give an opinion that other people also have expressed.

Performative patriotism

A follow-up thought on the controversy over whether Donald Trump disrespected troops: It is clear that some people genuinely love their country and admire military service as a result. But it is also obvious that a lot of people are more interested in using patriotism (and a related respect for the military) as a means to their own empowerment. 

Trump's also likes feeling like a tough guy: That's why he loves military parades and pardoning war criminals. But the key thing to note about him is that he is almost entirely transactional. From that Atlantic piece:

“He can’t fathom the idea of doing something for someone other than himself,” one of Kelly’s friends, a retired four-star general, told me. “He just thinks that anyone who does anything when there’s no direct personal gain to be had is a sucker. There’s no money in serving the nation.”

We should view Trump's displays of militiaphilia in the same terms we do his relationship with evangelicals: He'd probably toss them under the bus in a second if doing so were to his advantage. Patriotism isn't always the refugee of the scoundrel -- sometimes it's the cudgel used by power-hungry grifters.