Sherrod delivered a stirring speech on the Senate floor during the smear campaign against public union reform in Ohio:

In order to meet the week’s quota, Sherrod was obligated to say government union reform goes “against workers on behalf of the richest people in our country.” Too invested to stop at his usual class warfare, Sherrod had the audacity to attack Governor Kasich, Governor Walker, and Governor Christie for failing to meet what he claims as a Catholic standard.

Not to put too fine a point on it, Sherrod’s sermon about “fairness, and equality, and egalitarianism” has nothing to do with any of these things – and everything to do with union power.

This clip only gets more outrageous with additional context: Sherrod Brown is an ardent supporter of government-funded abortion. Paraphrasing Sherrod, I’m not gonna judge his faith – but I’m appalled at my senator’s willingness to cite Catholic literature for a partisan attack on conservatives. A certain carpenter would have something to say about the blameless guy throwing the first stone.

I don’t recall adherence to the AFL-CIO line as part of my Methodist confirmation. My maternal grandparents’ Lutheran church has never mentioned unsustainable government spending as a moral obligation (though in fairness I’ve only been there for Christmas Eve services).

Help me out, Catholic readers: Does Sherrod have a point, or is this just another low in a career of union pandering?

Transcript of the above C-SPAN 2 clip:

SHERROD BROWN: The Bible talks a lot about poverty, and a lot about fairness, and equality, and egalitarianism, if you will, and for them to go against workers on behalf of the richest people in our country – and that’s really what they’re doing in the governor’s office in Columbus, in Madison, in, in Trenton and other places. It runs counter, at least to my faith; I’m not gonna judge their faith, they can – they worship what god they worship, and they read what scripture they read – but, when you look at what, what my faith means, and whether – I’m, I’m, as I say, I’m a Lutheran, I’m not a Catholic, but you look at Leo the 13th and, and, and what he said about what Catholicism means for workers and fairness, uh, you know it’s, it’s, it’s uh, point, match, whatever – point, set, match.

Cross-posted from Big Government.

A convicted rapist was charged with multiple murders on Tuesday after police dug up 10 corpses at his home, which produced a stench of death in the depressed Cleveland neighborhood.

That no innocent should ever be put to death by the state is, to my mind, the most convincing argument against the death penalty. So long as we remain human, there will be tragic cases where people are convicted of crimes they did not commit.

Neighborhood residents said they avoided Sowell, who was released from prison in 2005 after serving 15 years for raping a pregnant woman.

Anthony Sowell got a second chance, and he used it to rape and murder women. I can think of no punishment too cruel or unusual, but a series of injections guaranteeing he can never rape or murder again seems to be in order here.

“These struggles always boil down to a contest between hope and fear,” he said. “That was true in the debate over Social Security, when F.D.R. was accused of being a socialist. That was true when J.F.K. and Lyndon Johnson tried to pass Medicare. And it’s true in this debate today.”

This is President Obama’s argument? If throwing additional tax dollars and half-baked regulations at a serious national issue passes for hope these days, I’ll take fear. Look at Social Security and Medicare! Don’t you wish everything could be managed to insolvency by Washington bureaucrats? President Obama does.

The Weekly Standard has an Obama quote that’s not included in the NYT story:

“You’ve heard that this is all going to mean government funding of abortion. Not true. These are all fabrications that have been put out there in order to discourage people from meeting what I consider to be a core ethical and moral obligation–and that is that we look out for one another, that I am my brother’s keeper and I am my sister’s keeper. And on the wealthiest nation on earth right now, we are neglecting to live up to that call.”

“I am my brother’s keeper,” “we are neglecting to live up to that call” – does President Obama have any concept of Americans as individuals? I feel bad for the self-proclaimed socialists out there; Obama keeps annexing more and more of their worldview as bipartisanship/pragmatism/realism/centrism/whatever we’re calling it this week.

The Weekly Standard story goes into more detail about the abortion question and the general tone of Obama and Congressional Democrats lately. Republicans are stifling debate – on a bill that Obama wanted to pass weeks ago, before anyone had even read it. Republicans are lying about what’s in Obamacare – although the Mad Libs legislation being pushed by statists would leave politicians to fill in the blanks while taxpayers foot the bill.

I didn’t mean for “Mad Libs” to have a double meaning in that last sentence. Looking at it now, though… that may accidentally be the wittiest thing I’ve ever written. A low bar to clear, I know.

Regarding the Town Hall, it was pretty good. I went to see John McCain and Lance Armstrong in person, and was impressed by both. It’s no wonder Obama doesn’t want to be within a country mile of McCain without a prompter. Sure he’s a stubborn old codger, but he’s also sharp and quick of his feet and brimming with experience. He had my vote before and he certainly has it now, although I could have gone without mentions of McCain-Kennedy and McCain-Feingold.

In the vein of continuity (is that what this is?), continued prayers for the Roeths and Chivingtons. I don’t know how long the page will be accessible, but there’s a good article from the 7/18 edition of the Troy Daily News following Carrie’s passing.

Further continuity still, the book o’ Faces tells me the following:

Griffin House’s performance for The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson is now scheduled for Friday, July 25th.

Tune your TV and watch Griffin performing “The Guy That Says Goodbye To You Is Out Of His Mind” on national TV.

There you have it – a reason to watch Craig Ferguson. Who, apparently, is still on the air? Griffin will be on Conan soon enough, by golly!

Pray for Carrie’s family, her husband, and her son. May God bless them in a dark time and may we take refuge in his will.

So, while I was trying to sleep and wrassling around with my covers instead, I was tangling also with those weird semi-conscious thoughts that seem to surface when I’m almost awake. I got thinking about a girl I had a crush on my sophomore year of high school, and I thought of a conversation I’d had earlier in the day with a friend. I wondered what, exactly, has always allowed me to torture myself over girls who will never be more than half interested in me at best. I wondered why I feel like all my time in general is wasted.

And immediately, thanks to my awesome donut-powered brain, I knew that my stubbornness was to blame. I’ve got this cloudy idea of how a girlfriend should look and behave, and when I meet a girl who seems to fit the bill I behave in ways that’d put your average romantic comedy to shame. If you’ve seen any romantic comedy ever, you know that inducing shame is no small feat. And as for my overall achievements/lack of achievements, I arbitrarily choose something that seems good and then I go for it. When I get to whatever “it” was… meh. What else is there to do?

From that little realization I bounced (again, thank you donut) to another thought: I’m a poster child for the Dr. Phil “Be true to yourself” line of feelgood mumbo-jumbo. Such a huge portion of the decisions I make I base on what I want, to the exclusion of anything else. If for a moment I feel selfish or greedy, I consider the way I’ve lived – no drugs or sex or drunken misdemeanors – as if I’ve earned something. As much as I’ve been given, it’d be hard to earn anything.

But just like junk science, junk psychology is hard to avoid and harder to get rid of. So we get talk shows and dramas and even entertainment on the less-fuzzy end of the chart offering simple truths: Believe in yourself! Be true to your heart! You’ve got to put yourself first sometimes! …What a load of yuppie crap. You could cover every point as easily by saying “don’t be a lousy fraud,” but that doesn’t sound cute. Stupid as it is, how often have I made choices this way without thinking? Even my skull is not thick enough for me to go through life immune to prevailing advice and attitudes.

I can’t help but think of the silly chorus to an old Switchfoot song:

Go, go where you are
Anchor your roots underneath
Doubt your doubts
And believe your beliefs.

As faithful a Christian as I consider myself on my most pompous days, I tend to go around believing other people’s beliefs. Jesus didn’t use his brief time in the spotlight to say “Hey, dudes, God sent me here to remind you – be, like, true to yourself, man.” He insisted that we be dead to ourselves, and though I know that’s how I should think it’s easy to be true to me instead of… well, the Truth.

It comes back around to the simplest questions – if you’re going to believe in a god, I don’t know how you’d go with any other. If you’re not, “believe in yourself” is kind of the default option, kind of the source for all my failures, and kind of useless advice.

All that separates the faithful from the faithless is acceptance of this need. Not temperament, not IQ, not criminal record or social status. Only by being acutely aware of our hopeless state can we escape it. “Good” or “bad” doesn’t mean a lot in light of the fact that we’re mostly driven by selfishness and entirely unable to prevent ourselves or anyone else from dying at the end. Without God, life is sandcastles too close to the shore and energy wasted fighting the waves. Sure, we can all build something on our own… but not well, and not for long.

Enough with generalization; what about me specifically? I am, after all, the only person I know well enough to write very much about. Am I a better person for seeing my need and giving God control of my life? While I think so, it’s not my doing. And it wasn’t much of a choice, really. I’d consider myself a ‘good’ person, for whatever that is worth, somewhere on the world’s scale between the homeless guy and the billionaire. I’m usually smart, mostly honest, almost always responsible. Why, then, do I need God so much? Because, among other reasons: without him, I’d be crazy.

We’re not talking “boy, that guy’s a little crazy” crazy. I mean more like “have a nervous breakdown, drop out of school and move to Montana to hunt bison” crazy. Seriously. I am insightful, so I’m used to knowing how things – my computer, every electronic device my parents own, gravity, government, communication – work. Fortunately, I’m also intelligent enough to know that this has limits, and that even if I tried (and were a whole lot smarter) I would never understand everything. This tidbit of knowledge serves as an equalizer, with one fatal exception.

Girls. Yes, girls… real original, eh? Not girls in general, because that would just be stupid. Specifically, attractive girls who are nice enough to talk to me and popular enough to usually be talking to someone else. At least since tag on the kindergarten playground, it seems like I’ve usually got one girl or another stuck in my head. By 5th or 6th grade when I’d begun to decide cooties might not be such a bad thing to catch, I’d also realized I was smaller and less talkative than many of the other guys. In a classroom of 30 kids there might be 5 cute girls and 10 boys more popular than me; you do the math. I started thinking about girls more and talking to girls less.

I might go deep into nature vs. nurture, considering whether my character or early experiences were more responsible for making me self-conscious and intimidated. But nature vs. nurture has always bored the crap out of me, so let’s not do that. Fact is, I was shy in general and especially frightened of conversations with cute girls. What does an overly introspective boy do in a situation like this? Why, analyze to death and freak out, of course! To varying degrees, that’s what I’ve been doing since I was 12, and I can’t think of a single time when it’s served me well.

The “varying degrees” part is where God comes in. As I’ve mentioned probably enough to sound like a hugely arrogant nerd, I’m pretty smart. I got good grades in high school without much work. I get decent grades in college with only slightly more work. Given my blessedly encouraging family and friends, and assuming my B.S. snags me a career, what else do I need? I can get an apartment, then a house, then a new car every three years from this chapter until the conclusion, like your average Miami business graduate. By every worldly standard, I’m one good job interview away from being set.

Except for the way I bend myself to breaking over girls. Everything else I’ve needed has fallen into place: college acceptance, test scores, scholarships, summer work, housing, money from my parents for school and from my grandparents for a car. Were it not for girls, these self-centered things would probably be enough for me. I’m smart enough to know how dumb I am, but I don’t know whether I’m humble enough to admit it without extra pressure.

And talk about pressure! From junior high through high school, there was always a handful of girls I thought were really cool, really hot, and really scary. Although this unofficial group’s roll was in a fairly constant state of change, there always was someone I had to prep myself before running into again. At every school or church event, there was someone to whom talking required thorough preparation. I was ever thinking of lines in my head, ever cooking up scenarios that would get me a smile or a laugh or, dare I say it, a date.

If you’ve had to give a presentation or a speech in front of people, you’ve got some idea what this is like. The only thing worse than going in blind and completely unprepared is trying to memorize verbatim what you want to say; speeches don’t have multiple takes. Forget a sentence… a phrase… a word, and you’ve got an instant breakdown with no delay on the camera and everybody watching. This is sort of the way I’ve always felt about girls I’m interested in dating.

Under the weight of stress, stretched expectations, and emotional letdown (let’s just say I regularly forget my lines), I found myself at the end of high school beginning to understand the reasons my parents had always taken me to church. No matter how much better I got at talking to girls, and even if I were to find the right one, romance – this supposed peak of human existence, this glamorized salve for every cut – would be a challenge for me. Analysis is something my brain is always doing, whether I throw myself into it or not, and logic is one persistent beast.

Even the rare girl who is cool and approachable provides feelings that only hint at a more perfect Love. Even sweet girls who are a little too crazy or a little too trendy or a little too sold on the college culture leave me fumbling for words and planning my next moves. Thank God for these feelings. Sometimes I think they are the only stupid things keeping me from giving up on romance altogether. More importantly, I know rejection and broken expectations stab hard enough to make me feel more frequently my need for God.

Am I wrong in seeing this as blatantly amazing? God takes my most vulnerable point, a perpetually unstable aspect of who I am, and forces me to see him through it. I think there’s a reason people often “find” God at their worst, tend to grow closest to Him during the hardest parts of their lives. At any other time, we can get a new car or a new job or a new whatever, slough off/take pills for the depression, pick ourselves up and go on alone. There are certain things, though, we simply cannot get around: these turn us either numb, crazy, or Christian.

At the same time, the two party system is an awfully frightening thing. What if one party drops the ball? I think that’s what we have in America today: the Democratic Party has dropped the ball. I really think it started after their loss in the 2000 Presidential race. I don’t know the big players very well, but was Gore the best they could do in 2000? It seems like a stretch to me, but I guess I can understand; sure the guy was weird and unlikable, but he had been Vice President for 8 years. At any rate, November came, the weirdness trumped the experience, and Al lost.

Now, I would argue that I’ve made only one questionable statement thus far – namely, that the Democrats have dropped the ball. This one I’ll try and justify over the next few paragraphs. A serious part of the problem is that many Democrats would point out a second questionable statement I’ve made: “Al lost.” This is where the breakdown begins. Whether or not Al Gore was the best man the Democrats had to run for President, their reaction to his loss was devastating – not because it was harsh, but because it has lingered in the party for so long. The evidence? John Kerry.

Why, unless they thought Bush was a complete idiot who could not possibly be re-elected, would the Democratic Party run such a straw man? When it comes down to it, there are three issues Americans vote on:

1) The economy. People want money, and they think the President holds all the strings to the stock market and the keys to the vaults.
2) Integrity. Hard-line partisans will vote for their party regardless, but everyone in between wants a candidate they feel they can trust.
3) Iraq. No one wants to send our troops across the ocean to die, but no one wants to live in fear at home.

With Bush’s first term winding down, all of these issues were up for grabs. The economy (1) seemed to be turning around, but not as quickly as anyone would like. The Texas National Guard questions or Haliburton issues (2) could easily be refreshed in voter’s minds. And Iraq (3)… wow. The current situation in the Middle East is probably the most difficult situation any leader has ever faced. How do you address a situation where entire civilizations want you dead, in a time where technology could easily make that wish possible? Certainly, a Democrat could have adopted a convincing anti-war stance.

But now, with October on the horizon, two of the three major issues have effectively been ceded. Can anyone present an argument as to how Kerry might salvage issues (2) and (3)? I certainly cannot. Kerry will and should continue to attack the economy. If he presents something that resembles a plan – it doesn’t have to be fancy, so long as it sounds mildly logical – he can win voters on (1). Integrity, on the other hand, is not Kerry’s strong suit. Why in the world did he spend the summer campaigning on his 4 months in Vietnam? WHY? Kerry’s most notable achievement is his 1971 testimony accusing the American troops of war crimes. Making the generalization that American troops committed atrocities and then basing a Presidential campaign on having been one of those troops is maybe the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Regardless of what Bush/Cheney mistakes and indiscretions the Democrats bring out in the next month, the best they can hope for is a tie on (2).

Finally, Iraq. Regardless of whether Saddam was convincingly connected to al Qaeda, regardless of whether the benefits prove worth the cost, Kerry has no position on Iraq. How can he defend his latest stance when it directly contradicts numerous statements he has made over the last several years? Kerry cannot argue with Bush about Iraq without also arguing with himself. This is linked tightly with the integrity issue; whether you are a hawk or a pacifist or somewhere in the middle, Kerry has shifted around far too much to be trustworthy. No matter how many people hate Bush, and no matter how many people will reflexively vote Democrat, I think Bush will win in November because of Kerry’s horrible inability to win votes on issues (2) and (3).

Recent polls have Democrats angrier still. Why is Kerry behind? Kerry should not be behind! Bush is a liar and a moron and Kerry has much better hair! But if their prescription for Gore failure is to throw in a waaaay left washed up hippie, the Democrats have problems bigger than two consecutive Presidential defeats. Where are the reasonable moderates to straighten these guys out? As much fun as it is laughing about the ridiculousness of Kerry, Edwards, McAuliffe & Co., and as much as I like having a Republican majority in D.C., in the long run nobody benefits from an ineffective Democratic Party.

See, having two and only two major parties is a double-edged sword. Things get done in the federal government, and knowing that the Democrats are watching keeps the Republicans sharp (and vice versa). But when the underlying theme of a Presidential campaign is “Our Candidate: At Least He’s Not Their Candidate,” we’ve got a problem. When we stray so far from the issues that Americans can hardly hear the name-calling under the layers of spin, we’ve got a problem. Earlier in the year, Kerry was proud to be traveling on a platform of issues and values… unfortunately, Kerry appears to lack a human grasp of either.

As much as I want Bush to win, I want to see a competition. I want debates where there are actual thoughts and ideas involved, not arguments over who said X on Tuesday and then insinuated Y on Thursday. I don’t want the major issue in the fall to be one candidate’s flimsiness on the issues. With two parties, there should be intelligent discussion of topics. With two parties, there should be pressure for honesty and excellence coming from the other side. I hope there are sane, respectable Democrats waiting to step into power when the current batch burns out, because a single-party country is not a place I’d like to inhabit. I am proud to be a Republican, but Republican politicians make mistakes and there are some of them who downright scare me. Please DNC, find someone better than Hillary for 2008…

Inspiration for this entry partly from “Profiles In Self-Destruction,” a far better article by Evan Maloney that makes a similar point.

It should come as no surprise that this is the sort of movie people will watch again and again. Whether we realize it or not, there is more truth in the Lord of the Rings movies than in every chainsaw massacre, softcore pornography, and annoying documentary film combined. Right and wrong are deeper and stronger than laws or traditions; we know that the honorable should win and the cruel suffer defeat. The special effects are stunning, the acting is great, the directing is masterful – but these are only means to the end. When you watch these movies, you identify with the characters and hope for their safety and rejoice in their victory. Deny it if you will, but you have witnessed possibly the best ever cinematic depiction of the battle between the greatest powers in the universe. And I don’t mean mythological heroes and dungeon monsters.

There are great powers in the universe, and they are greater than nature, and they are as obvious as the sun. Belief in God is popular, but only under the most watery and least reasonable definitions of Him. As plain as movie-screen good versus evil, there are only two paths in life. One of them is with God; the other, without. We can see these only poorly, if at all. Our scientific stubbornness cannot ‘know’ that God exists at all. But should we expect to? A God behind, below, above and beyond the scenes of an everything-sized movie is awfully big. What character, conceived in His mind and drawn by His hand, could possibly understand Him? Would J.R.R. Tolkein’s fictional dwarves and elves, brought to bigscreen life but existing only on film, discs, and paper, have any reason to expect a handshake and signed photograph from the director?

So this is where faith comes in. We fuss and argue about religion until nobody knows what ‘religion’ means, but FAITH… faith is a word that actually makes you think of something. Faith is belief in an incomprehensible “big picture.” It’s something hard to explain, yet simple – either you take a step and have faith, or you do not. Reality does not leave footnote space or empty lines to fill in with an Eastern religion of your choice or a doctored defintion of God. When I say ‘faith’ I mean a thoughtful belief in the God of the Hebrews, the Father of Jesus Christ; the Creator. Everything else I’ve tried was an escape hatch to pride and self-reliance.

I hope you’re with me here. If not, there isn’t much I can do. Read some C.S. Lewis (he was a friend of Tolkein’s, by the way) or meet with a local pastor. Think about why you look at the world the way you do; hold up your favorite alternative to God against the light of an ordered universe complete with thinking, emotional beings. Should you choose atheism or something else, live your life for awhile and honestly consider how that goes. If there’s a point to something as complicated as life, how could it be as bland as ‘to be happy?’ If there’s not a point, how could someone as smart as yourself be so hung up searching for one? Honestly, you may think I’m stupid but scratch out God and you’re missing the show.

Yes, a truly good movie is a great thing. But how sad it would be if that were the greatest thing… a scripted course of events starring a cast of fake characters, all designed to evoke emotions that serve no other purpose. How easily we forget that God is here. His amazing plan is for our greatest good: and every day, we forget. I can glance in awe at the sunrise. I can take in the comforting, powerful words of the Bible. I can enjoy a beautiful song that doesn’t scratch the surface of God’s vast power… all while completely overlooking the facts that I am an adopted son of a God who does not make mistakes or concessions, and that I live in a world poisoned by Evil. Does God love his children? He gives us life and choice, and I can’t think of grander, better gifts. But I shuffle along feeling bored and unimportant 300 days out of the year.

Only once in awhile do I vaguely glimpse the plot. I really don’t know what is planned for me, let alone how I’ll get there. I know enough to see, at last, that Christianity is never a set of rules or a class on self improvement. Following Christ is a doorway opened, not to a quiet pasture or a golden road but to everlasting life… through a world at war. Good is fighting evil, but in our storyline we rarely choose a side or even realize the lines are drawn. I am often burned out because I want to tell my own story, with the entire thing planned and scheduled and padded for safety. I want to serve God, but I’d like to have a 12-step program or something to hold onto.

I should be holding onto God instead. This is GOD we’re talking about here. Outside of time, space, every other thing that restricts us. Awesome and creative and loving enough to put romance deep in our hearts. He made this world and if He chooses, He can unmake it. He will not die: at the perfect time, God will conquer. Think back to Return of the King and try to picture the horrifying odds; while enjoying the outcome, remember the theological relevance and beauty of that miraculous final victory. I cannot imagine – I cannot begin to imagine – the unbelievable God I claim to know, but I conveniently assume He’ll take care of me while I do my thing and try to be nice. This is not true.

In appreciating the good we must not forget the evil. Every day can bring me nearer life, or nearer death. If I insist on standing still, it will not be long before I’m shaken. I will try to ignore it, but many times I’ll have to choose: trust God to lift me forward again, or trust myself and fall to useless pride? Life lies at the handle of a bright but heavy sword, offered selflessly to undeserving hands. Dare you turn away and deny your loving King? Will you draw, but fight only for selfish glory? Darkness creeps in powerfully and in many forms. To share in victory, we must kneel and grasp Truth with a humble warrior’s heart. Not merely in one dramatic instant, but throughout our lives, as battles rage both inside and out.

this must be that nagging reminder of my insufficiency, creeping up on me again. nagging in the same way a lion is a nagging reminder to the antelope that he’s tired and is about to be eaten. i feel my inability when i first wake up in the morning: soo… a day of class, and i’ll talk to maybe three people outside this house, and probably put off what little work i should do, and then repeat. soon the usual distractions get the day spinning, but again when i go to bed i remember that i’m useless at doing anything worthwhile. on my own, i am just another loser writing because i’m not good at much else. if i get my joy from cool music, a decent essay, or some new website feature, i will never stay happy for long. i may as well devote my life to a 4.0 or weekends of ignorant drunken bliss or a continuous cool-guy popularity act (or do the Miami thing and try all three at once). it’s true – my acutely incomplete belief in God does not give me immunity from distractions or depression.

my attitude is not good. it’s not terrible, and i will be ok, and if i were more stubborn i could probably live out my time here in my current mindset. even when i do move on, i will never get over my pride in my intelligence and creativity. i will never stop trying to be independent of my Creator. i can’t say for certain, because i’ve never been an alcoholic or a prostitute, but i’ll assume that my insistence on being insightful is just as spiritually hazardous. as long as i keep trying to accomplish and communicate and persuade as ends in themselves, i’ll have chosen to be stagnant – my attitude will stay “not good.” only when i look to God for my inspiration, only when i keep him in the front of my mind more often, will anything i do benefit myself and others.

and isn’t that the idea?

Call me biased, but this ‘natural selection’ thing… it’s a pretty sweet deal. I mean, you start with some tiny cell and then that becomes a few tiny cells. And those become something bacteria-ish, which after a few million years is a lizardy critter. Some of the lizards get a switch bumped that gives them fur, more randomness pumps up the brain a bit, eyes that were once light-sensitive spots end up seeing detailed colors. The stuff that’s good, stays; the stuff that’s bad — ends up eaten or stepped on. Mix in a mass extinction once in awhile, and voila: cave-man!

It seems a little unfair that I know how to make spears and fire and slings to launch rocks. My ancestors don’t stand much of a chance, which is ironic since their better chances are what eventually gave me chances that are better still. But then, random is random so who cares about philosophy as long as I can figure out which lizards taste good and what colors I should avoid. See, even now, I suppose evolution is still doing its thing. If I eat a few too many rotten Dodo eggs I will be evolutioned right out of the system. Those who had a ‘bad taste means poison, poison means no eat’ mutation will evolve onwards to become Frenchie wine makers… all I’ll get is the honor of being lizard food.

And that is all I need know about ‘fair.’ Instincts provide a basic government system where if an inpidual gets out of control, the rest of us know to whack him before he kills us all. Health care is not a biggie as long as we stay away from anybody who looks like they might die. After all, that’s just common sense. I don’t know exactly how disease travels but I don’t want to be close. I mentioned spears and slings and, yeah, I wish I could say that was all my idea. But one thing leads to another and the sketches on the local diner wall gave us a starting point. Just like nature, we learn to keep the things that work and pitch the things that don’t. Nature is always watching.

This is another reason I don’t need fairness or feelings. Aside from taking extra room in a brain with precious little useful space, non-survival instincts or “emotions” can be downright harmful. What if for some unintellible reason I become “friends” with someone and they get contagiously sick? My care for them will grind against my knowledge that I ought to get away. If the caring wins, I’m that much more likely to die. And so, even if mutation sticks me with a ‘friendly’ gene, a nasty dose of Monkey Fever(?) will keep that from being passed very far. Even disregarding disease, a cave-male spending time with “friends” when he could be stocking up on mammoth or making babies is a male whose genes will not leave very big ripples in the pool. Finding enough to eat, keeping myself from freezing, avoiding cliffs and making babies: that’s what it’s all about.

Or, might it be beneficial for me to “care” about the females I breed with? If I decide to care too much about the first one, perfectly suitable partners will go mate-less. So, you see, if I waste my energy on fidelity, my silliness will be selected away in a generation or so: my “love” gene will be spread to a considerably lesser degree than the free-sexin’ genes of my neighbors. Popular opinion would take care of any chance that my new idea of “something more important than reproduction” might catch on. Because if love didn’t come from my mind, it would just have to come from someone else’s… after all, brains pre-programmed with anything other than survival would not be passed on to something as advanced as cave-man. Unless monogamy was somehow favorable, any inpidual who cooked up such a concept would have no more chance of affecting the population than would a lizard who decided he should teach his friends to line dance.

Natural selection doesn’t care about cozy, happy families. The very best I can do is stockpile food, figure out how to survive harsh winters, and reproduce every chance I get. If I do this, the babies I help make will be as well-equipped as possible for survival. Like me, they will have food and shelter. Like me, they will see the importance of gathering and staying warm and making babies. I need not read them bedtime stories, or give them piggyback rides, or take them to watch sabretooth tiger races. Unless emotions already exist, personal relationships don’t matter… and didn’t I just prove emotions would be lucky to make the recessive gene list? No, meat and warmth and new cave-men who know how to get both are the only evolutionarily important things.

Maybe in a few dozen generations there will be “games,” and “art,” and other time-wasting stuff. These will only last if, as I expect, their conception results from spare cave-man time on account of us having worked together to master getting food, keeping warm, and reproducing. If the sons of my grandsons’ sons are so efficient that they get bored and must find new things to keep them entertained, more power to ‘em. And if countries form, and cultures, these will be well and good so long as staying alive to pass on helpful genes is their focus. Plague will wipe out cave-men too sentimental to abandon their friends: only cave-materialists will thrive. Bad mutations combined with too much monogamy would spell disaster: in a matter of centuries, we’ll have learned to mate with no fewer than five different cave-persons.

Turn back on the “TV.” Impress yourself with the number of “songs” you have memorized and how much you can do with that new “computer.” But don’t forget the lizard who would have never passed us his genes unless his insticts focused on survival. Don’t confuse inventiveness with importance, and don’t assume emotions evolved same as knees and toes. Nature favors not the nicest or the most creative or the best dressed, but the sharpest at survival. I may be just a cave-man, but at least I know my place. You may be a smarter cave-man, but deep down a cave-man is all you are. I’m gonna go light something on fire, and maybe line dance.

I realized, what a cool trade-off! It wasn’t fun studying for a couple hours the night before, but even four hours of studying would have been worth it for the peaceful feeling that came from being more prepared than usual. I knew I had made a smart decision for once, and had foregone an evening of TV or laughing with the guys in order to be more responsible. Yes, I would even go so far as to say I was GLAD I’d studied!

As I walked down the street – I don’t know whether it was God or just my mind wandering – I got to appreciating how most of the decisions we make are big trade-offs. Granted, many of them are so unbalanced they are hardly choices at all. If you buy gas you’ve got $15 less to spend on other stuff… but there’s not a lot of other stuff you can get to when your car’s out of gas. If you have the joy of being a business student, you’ve heard all about opportunity costs in accounting. When you make a decision you have to consider the value of each alternative.

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too,” they say. Which I have never understood, because isn’t eating cake the only benefit of having it? The saying should be “you can’t eat your cake and eat it too” but then, that doesn’t roll off the tongue nearly as well. Good saying or not, the point does seem to be true. And anyone serious about being responsible with their money (accountants, for instance) knows the importance of making informed choices. Most big opportunities come around only once and if you miss the train, tough luck.

Time itself is much more important than money – if you do it right, it’s far from impossible to save more money than you can spend. In that case, you can have your cake and eat your cake, or do whatever else you’d do with it. But, although time is harder to manage and impossible to hoard, we often give our days less attention than our dollars. Every hour comes only once and we only get so many; do we weigh each trade-off as carefully as we should? Aren’t our hearts and souls more important (and harder to handle) than our cash?

I definitely do not put my decision making energy where I ought to. I am really bad about starting off my morning without prayer or time reading the Bible, although I know both of these will ready my heart for whatever the day holds. I know God’s there for me but most of the time still try to do everything on my own – and I wonder why at the end of the day I’m burned out. But the crisp fall morning mentioned above, I made a point of spending more than three sentences talking to God, and I let the few verses I read before class sink in.

It turns out God reinforced me after all! As much as it felt good to know I’d studied, my peaceful mood held something deeper, too. It’s amazing what God will do if you give him more than a passing glance and a “thanks for the fruity pebbles” in the morning. I stop to think about which stocks I should invest in and how I should lay out the newest page of this website, so why not give my spirit a fair share of time? When I start my day by reminding myself I’m clumsy but loved, it takes so much weight off my shoulders and proves the most obvious trade-off of all.

Everyone wants to be happy. And everyone wants to feel as though he or she is contributing something. Only the most extremely spaced-out academics would argue against these truths. But even when we accept what we undeniably feel, we tend to take the feeling for granted and leave it at that. The source of these longings is a dangerous, complicated topic that usually seems better left unanswered. Denial is pretty easy when we are scared of the answers. It gets easier with practice, until only your worst days stir the shouting in your soul – something is missing.

Obsession with unimportant things goes hand in hand with denial. If a bad day were all it took for people to seek real truth and turn their lives around, the world would be very different. But instead, when everything goes wrong we can blame lack of posessions or power. Immediately I can think of lots of cool stuff that maybe, if I could get my hands on, would fill the gap in me. This basic idea is the foundation for the very lives of many people: ie. “when I get out of school and get a good job, my sense of pointlessness will go away.” Sound familiar? From then on, the variety of potential achievements, experiences, and belongings available to me could probably occupy me for the rest of my life. A new car every few years, an attractive wife who shares my sense of humor… that should do it.

And this is a shame. If I work hard enough in school and at my job, I can make enough money and meet enough people to keep me distracted and denying the emptiness underneath it all. That’s it. All a person would have to do is ignore the longing that still surfaces once in awhile and maybe learn to be content with less than they’d originally planned. Again, this is what a great many people do – and enough people do it well that it’s become self perpetuating. The American dream of climbing the ladder and partying it out when you reach your desired level is popular, visible, and easy enough to imitate.

But obviously, something that requires success and money will not work for everyone. Capitalism really is a brutal thing and if you don’t have the right skills, work ethic, or timing well that’s just too bad. So you get stuck at the bottom, or knocked down part way, or just not as far as you want. The natural human reaction is to get angry, so that’s what we do. And rather than realize what we’re fighting for is pointless, our bitterness often spreads through every aspect of life. Whether we give up or keep plugging along, we’ve become mad at the world. Someone angry at the world is not likely to believe it was created by a loving God.

So, one way or another, pride has its way of making us so self-centered we cannot believe in anything bigger than us. For any or all of the above three reasons, God is cornered out of our lives. Not a good idea. God is the only thing capable of answering our deepest longings and making us worthwhile. He did create us to have fun but more so to experience true, unconditional love — which is not possible apart from him. Obviously I haven’t lived an entire lifetime but I’m not so sure that reduces my credibility. Maybe if I’d tried for 40 years instead of 18, perfection would have come to me and brought me peace. I say this sarcastically, but maybe people out there would agree.

Also sad is the fact that nothing I say can convince someone their frustrations are needless. I can’t write based on honesty and leave out the fact that, honestly, I know I can’t persuade people to give up their obsessions and ask God to step in where they’ve failed. Thankfully I do believe I have some degree of talent in writing, and if my words might bring one person a little closer to God that’s awesome. A real, daily relationship with God is possible thanks to Jesus and while it does not involve any strange religious voodoo it does require admitting you need Him. The decision is yours.

Are you a skeptic? by Josh McDowell
Ancient evidence for Jesus from ‘non-Christian’ sources by Christianity.com

combine these things, and it’s only a matter of time before the Christians – who, being human, rarely practice the love that they preach – start to grind on the non-Christians’ nerves. everyone has different tastes but that’s all they are: inpidual preferences. therefore, no one can pretend that what they say is fun or appropriate is more fun or appropriate than anyone else’s favorite activity. no one – except for those darn Christians, who have to complicate the matter by claiming their morals come from a higher power and apply to everyone. but then the radical doubt philosophers came along and said, ‘hey, don’t get all worked up about these Christians with their right and wrong and absolutes! there’s no logical proof that God exists at all, so religious beliefs are just another personal taste!’ (by the way, not a direct quote, but you get the idea). their arguments were not great but the implications of there being no God sounded good to many people.

and for many, from academic elitists to pop-culture fanatics, it’s been all downhill ever since. what we know of science and technology has been built upon exponentially, allowing for more and more sources of fun and distraction – and an ever increasing number of things to sample and choose favorites from. strictly speaking, the philosophers (and later the Darwinists) never disproved God – but things sure are easier without the idea of someone smarter than us always looking over our shoulder! so, as usual, the bulk of society took the easy route and just let God sit somewhere in the stack of things to check out whenever we get around to it. if you don’t want to think about something, you don’t need much proof to be convinced it’s fake. with God “disproven,” it only made sense that ‘religion’ should become just another column of check boxes on a survey, a personal taste no more right or wrong than choosing blues over jazz.

in spite of all this, the Christians continue to grow in numbers. unfortunately, many aren’t bothered by the relativist theory of multiple ways to God* and heaven. because again, like everyone else, Christians are human and get sucked in by culture as surely as anyone else. yet in spite of foggy vision and widespread misdirection, there are believers in God who still try to spread his truth and love. while some of us apply our gifts wisely, others make a downright mess. the result, naturally, is the prominent feeling that Christianity is a way for the judgmental to ruin everyone else’s good time. we live in a culture turned off to ‘religious’ people and the old-fashioned, stuffy, boring tone carried by such a word. is this what the radical philosophers of centuries past intended? some have, at least, come up with a popular alternative not only to Christianity but also to any sort of absolute truth.

“relativism” is a very popular, academic-sounding word. the thinking man’s replacement for any connection to God. unlike “religion,” relativism is a word with worldliness and education practically oozing from its every syllable. and, it’s a cop-out. ask a Christian how he knows that right and wrong exist, and he’ll tell you because the Bible and our own deepest instincts tell us so. the philosopher’s reply? Christians beg the question, beat around the bush, retreat from the issue. ask your local relativist philosopher the same question about right and wrong, and he’ll reply that they are relative: what’s good for you may be bad for me and vice-versa, and there’s not a lot we can do about it. right and wrong change to keep up with the latest issue of rolling stone; that’s not to mention differences in truth from one continent to the next. as a dedicated seeker of logical answers, how can a philosopher overlook the fact that relying on culture for truth is nonsense? if relativism is truth then truth is meaningless…and every philosopher is out of a job.

an example problem: who gets to pick the definition for ‘society?’ what if i have always lived alone, and decide one day to start kicking every person who walks past my house? if the only practices and ideas i knew were my own, i would be blameless in kicking all hapless bypassers, (and punting their dogs) so far as relativism is concerned! who says that a society has to be a country or even a state or county? if i never have contact with anyone besides myself, i am society – as far as my crazy brain is concerned. but, no, i’m sure there is some handy rule that works around little kinks such as this. i suppose in their spare time after disposing of God, the great atheist thinkers found a few social absolutes to apply to their theory that there are no social absolutes. what happened to being flawed, less than omniscient, human? those seem to have gone out of style along with philosophies that make sense and worldviews that are not self-contradictory.

* – Jesus told him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me.” John 14:6 New Living Translation

I realize that other people have noticed said problem, and further I do understand that many think it’s no problem at all. I also realize the whole scantily-clad women issue is equally problematic in the entertainment industry, hence my mention of movies and television back in that cheesy first sentence. And while neither of these are good news, what we are most affected by on a daily basis is just that: who we are daily in contact with. Drooling over half naked (or just plain naked, for that matter) movie stars is no good but at least you don’t have to face any realistic temptation to jump into bed with them. When a guy is directly surrounded by immodest females, however, the potential for obsession and temptation enters a whole new dimension. We’ve got a vicious cycle going, and failing to acknowledge it as a problem is not likely to help.

Call me a prude. I’ve been called worse, so if you are all about “freedom to act like a jackass and dress like a whore” then feel free. You’d be overlooking the real issue. But if you’d like, you could glare at me and call me a moral extremist, turning things around so I look like the one whose thinking is distorted. Heck, if you’ve put thought into it you could slap together an entire semi-impressive argument; I’ve heard the joke about sex being clean, healthy fun and other related theories. “Why fuss over self restraint if the best method is to do it with whomever you’d like at any given point?” I have heard some academics say self-control is only repression and they tell us that’s not good, while still other crazies insist that marriage is prostitution. You should be warned that these people are idiots. If you are one of them, please reconsider. Honestly. Do you really think you can have sex whenever you want, and it won’t mess you up emotionally? And that’s not to mention all the diseases.

Clearly, some people think that the more skin we see, the better. Think twice: it’s a trap. A painful lure that, for men and women both, can be difficult to escape. Gone are the days when girls dressing questionably was a shock. A shallow Rolling Stone culture and large quantities of denial have numbed us through that stage. Now we’ve run headlong into an atmosphere where only the ‘very conservative’ make a conscious effort to dress appropriately (or, in the case of men, try not to stare). It seems that, as nearly-naked women become nearly-naked mothers, a whole generation is growing up without parents who will tell them “You’re not leaving the house in that!”

The more adjusted men become to seeing women in public practically undressed – and the more adjusted women become to seeing other women that way – the more skin we gradually accept as normal. But it’s not normal — suggestion is a powerful thing. How much further than a 4-inch skirt will a girl go for attention? How convinced can a guy become that sex is a harmless way to have fun?

When people fool and harm themselves, it cannot be anything but catastrophic for society. Look at the teenage pregnancy rate. It has dropped recently, but is it low enough? Do a little research and see what percentage of marriages end in divorce; how many stories have you heard of an enjoyable divorce? But we refuse to learn. Too many parents have begun telling their kids to use protection instead of teaching them to wait. Too many view abortion as an option for the one out of a hundred cases when our beloved “protection” doesn’t work.

People are starting to have sex at younger and younger ages, more children are being born into single-parent homes, the list of tragedies goes on. And we say that society’s general disregard for any form of physical modesty is not a problem? When sixteen year old girls dress like prostitutes, it’s going to cause huge difficulties not only for them but for their male friends as well. When kids are having sex in junior high, it should be no surprise that a scary percentage of college students have contracted STDs.

If we will not recognize the threats of casual sex, things will only get worse. Sex used to be considered reserved for married couples – and with good reason. Approaced in any other fashion, it is a poison or at best a time bomb for later relationships. Yet we continue doing whatever we want, and then get pissed that our dating lives are complete garbage. Meanwhile we seem to become more confused and twisted every day. “Alternative lifestyles” that are clearly wrong are pushed as acceptable; men and women having promiscuous sex with each other has become such a foregone conclusion that the elite are moving on to more exciting topics. This must not be the direction in which we continue. Gentlemen, have some respect and stop obsessing over curves. Ladies – put a shirt on, for crying out loud!

At this rate, in 20 years we’ll be back to running around draped in vines and assorted leafy materials. That would not be good.

My feeling of only semi-severe but no less authentic loneliness lasts only a moment, which is longer than it should. Two more seconds of my thought are wasted on the pretty girl sitting at the front of the sanctuary. I think of how apathetic she seemed the last time I tried to talk to her; the front of the sanctuary might as well be miles away. As usual, this depressing thought leads me through a catalog of the girls at school I have considered dating – they all seem a little too popular to pay attention to me. This point is where I usually give up on every female I know and tell myself if I could only be patient, I would meet the right one.

But for the first time my daily quarter-minute of feeling pitiful does not stop here, with halfhearted self-assurance and loneliness mutated into sentimental hope. Something causes me to honestly reflect on what I’ve been thinking. I give my heart a chance to reject the all-too-accepted idea that as long as I’m single, I’ll be missing out. As I allow my mind to slow from its buzzing pace and force myself to look away from the girl, the floor of the church catches my eye. Suddenly I feel God’s hand firmly on my heart: simple but beautiful, this hardwood paneling and the tall, beautiful stone building above and around it have stood for over a hundred years. My current crush will not last for a fraction of that time, and as I grasp this a smile sneaks onto my face.

Like so many others, this unexpected realization’s power is in its simplicity. I know that God is with me, loves me, and has a great plan for my life. And every time I have moped the way I started to just moments ago, I’ve looked back with shame for being so childish. Noticing how irrelevant your worries are is an excellent way to kill them. This should be obvious, but one way or another we always let ourselves forget. Instantly a handful of examples come to mind where I tied myself in knots over someone, spent energy trying to impress her, and in the end wondered why I stressed over her at all. Does this mean I should not think about or talk to girls; that I should swear them off for life? I certainly hope not – but sense and experience prove that I ought not obsess over brief glances or 12-word conversations.

What an incredible truth I’m finally getting into my head! Here I am sitting next to a great friend in a beautiful church with a couple hundred cool people, worrying myself about a minor relationship I’ll probably have forgotten in six months. Maybe the girl I’m into likes me, maybe she does not, either way I should relax and simply be myself instead of trying to plot a possible date or think of perfect things to say. Greater still, this idea of peace applies to everything: I’ve got tests next week but will have enough time to study. My GPA is a little lower than it needs to be but I still have my scholarships and am doing well this semester. I’m angry and pessimistic more often than I’d like but that’s slowly improving, too.

Is there any aspect of my life that God can’t take care of? I doubt it. How could there be, when He designed my mind and soul and the very stone used to build this church? The last few years, I’ve seen that the more seriously I focus on God, the more things seem to fall into place. He has gotten me through difficult times, helped me realize when I’ve messed up, forgiven me when I ignore His direction. I may be single, but I am not alone. I don’t doubt that God will guide me into far better times even than this, mold me into a stronger, kinder person, teach me patience, joy, and peace. Right now, I have so much to be thankful for – I’m at a good school, I’ve got a good roommate and reliable friends, I’m healthy and near my family. I am learning, very, very slowly, to relax.

Why do we feel like this? And why do we pretend this feeling is less real than the foolish thoughts we entertain? Well, humans aren’t perfect…we all die and makes mistakes and so forth – I can handle that idea. At least I can until I get sick or do something less than perfect and want to weasel out of it. Who came up with this right versus wrong garbage? I did my best and that was awfully good, but here I am getting hosed again. I thought there was a God but why does he have me puking when cokehead Billy next door is meaner than me and didn’t catch the flu? In no time at all here I am with all kinds of reasons for saying “screw it” and going on as if my shifty feelings of right and wrong are the best I can do. I don’t need evidence – I’ve got bad experiences that tell me the world sucks, so I’d better stick to looking out for myself.

But nearly as often as I’d like to doubt all else and hold on to my rationality, I get the impression there’s something bigger that I should be holding onto instead. These feelings don’t fit with the rest of my picture. In fact, when I help someone or am helped by someone or fall in “love,” it’s like the focus of my lens auto-zooms away from me and onto a different image altogether. As often as I’ve been wrong, I wonder if maybe the pain I’ve experienced is truly due to everything being crap or instead is simply a product of others being almost as self-centered as me. It’s a question that even on a bad day I have trouble shaking, and one that on good days tugs at my pessimistic side and roars at my brain for some answer.

Now I come to school and find myself in a pre-med science course on genetics and the evolution of species. Its lack of real rational, scientifically proven fuel stuns me. How did you say we got here? Millions of years of random mutations that started for no reason on sea-foam and/or mud? The part of me that believes in God and feels the real weight of love chuckles at how preposterous this is. Even my coldly logical but proud brain tells me its incomprehensible workings did not come from luck and a smart monkey somewhere along the line pushing a big, dumber monkey out of a tree. Basic polymers plus the perfect environment plus a whole lot of chance do not add up to thousands of species of animals and one distinctly different creature at the top…animals with complex thoughts and feelings had to come from somewhere special. A gorilla that can do sign language and chimps digging with sticks are pretty sad proof that we’re only another link in an intricate but meaningless chain.

Here at last is a source of progress. We sometimes imagine that faith in God is shaken out of the rational tree, so to speak, without considering that there is no more evidence against God than there is for Him. With this in mind, why does the college community seem so anti-religion, and against Christianity in particular? Someone might tell you it’s because the traditional (which in and of itself has become a bad word amongst educated people) American childhood is a brainwashing process whose spell is broken once we get into the “real world” we’ve heard so much about. But all political correctness aside, I wonder what percentage of college students nationwide have stopped to honestly consider the weight of Jesus versus self. Self-righteous professors and the stupid media hint constantly at the silliness of Christianity, and bad impressions from imperfect Christians tip the scales – ‘nope, I’ve seen enough, that Jesus business is not for me.’ Is faith in God un-cool because people seriously think about it and find it makes no sense, or because we do what’s easier and pretend our own way is best?

My bias towards Christianity will not let me overlook the grossly overestimated brainwashing argument. How much time have I spent praying and reading the Bible, opposed to the amount of time I’ve spent watching moral-free TV or listening to the dirty radio? If I weigh my hours spent focusing on God against my hours doing otherwise, I see that if anything has been leeching off my ability to think for myself, it’s the screwed-up world. I don’t understand everything about human life or the universe that surrounds it…but neither does anyone else. When I’m being honest I see it’s the worldly thoughts that wreck my healthy relationships and my own mistakes that get me hurt in the first place. Aren’t these bumps and bruises what originally led me to doubt the standards that, if I’d followed them better, would have served me well? Now what is it that makes doubt so “rational,” exactly?

Or instead, look at it another way – I listen to a lot of rock, alternative rock, and punk music, which typically is not the most romantic sort of stuff. Yet while past mistakes have made me seriously cautious, CDs full of broken-hearted lyrics and angry guitar jamming do not shake my feeling that some day I’ll find true love in a relationship deeper than fun times or commitment with an expiration date. Could you suggest that this idea of love springs from watching romantic movies for days on end – long enough to counter the time I’ve spent listening to anti-girl music? How many hundred exposures would I need to Beauty and the Beast for that argument to make sense? But maybe by now you’d rather not think, and will shrug me off as an idiot instead. If you’re realistic you’ll call the thing an emotion that leads you to react so strongly. Where do you think that emotion came from? Nature?

People are always attempting to become invincible or at least complete something that will give us a sense that when we are gone, an immortal trace of us will remain. Everyone does it, whether through conquering the business world, winning football trophies, writing poetry, or designing buildings. Some of us feel younger around our children, feel secure if we move into a bigger house every few years, feel more influential with each salary increase. If I can invest shrewdly enough and speak well enough to impress or simply shock the world around me, I will serve a purpose. If I load up on hazard insurance and watch my weight and maintain careful control over my daily life, I can practically live forever. And once my greatest goals are accomplished, the mark I leave on society means part of me will never die.

But sometimes it seems I cannot succeed. Everyone wants a cut of what I have earned. When I have finally put the kids through school and bought my wife all that she asks for and sent the tax man packing, all that will be left for me is a shadowy reminder of my formerly impressive income. I will not be able to buy all the things I want or do all the things I want or maximize my enjoyment. And common sense teaches me this is life’s point – day to day, moment to moment, having all the fun I can. Because as I get older I must be realistic; my mind is gradually slipping and my joints are weakening and one day I will not be able to walk. Even with the greatest technology and the most powerful friends, someday I will die. That day will come too soon; not long after I have done what they said I could not and earned the millions I dreamed of and made my mark, the respect these things bring will be useless.

Will at least my children remember me? Maybe. If I gave them the things they asked for and went to most of their little league games and didn’t hassle them, they might visit me fairly often in the final years before I expire. A broken old man, at the end I will be little more than a burden to those who “love” me. And what of love? The wonderful sensation we call love fizzles out, runs dry, itself dies of age. Can I find a woman who will not leave me, friends I can count on for life? Can I enjoy being around my children enough while they are home to counter the pain when they move away? All the truest love will one day fade, disproving the very definition of an overrated term. Is “love” as we use the word truly a capacity of the human animal? I have seen too many examples of the opposite to believe it is. I say we should look at this as the most harsh of the four-letter-words: a fable passed down by generations of childish people, fools scrambling for acceptance and long term feelings that simply don’t exist.

I will concede that sounds crazy at first – but what is love if not mere overemphasized attachment? The so-called wise look to love to fill in for other wants, to feign some sort of meaningful life, to distract themselves from their material failures. Day in and day out we hear that love is bigger than genes or thoughts or money, that love is the point of life on earth, even that a loving deity put us here in the first place. I know too many shattered families, harmful relationships, heartbroken lovers to rely on such a fairy tale. So in the end, it seems there is no way to be invincible. My money will go to children who were wishing I might die as soon as I couldn’t maintain myself any longer. Their children will forget what I looked like and how the wealth they inherit was made. One day, it will be forgotten that I ever lived at all.

And what if there is something else after life? Even as a youth I was too smart to buy into that, and I will not be one of those people to sell out now that I realize I’ll eventually die. What weakness, to parade under the banner of strength while physical ability is with you but just as highly wave humility’s colors when no longer can you fight for, argue with, inspire those around you. Is physical ability, then, the source of power? Money is not, for it intoxicates us to seek more but can potentially be stolen or lose its value without warning. Dollars may last longer than muscles but cannot be enjoyed, once your muscles have worn out. All good things, it appears, are fleeting. Again, what of the afterlife? I have never seen an angel, never heard gods shouting from the sky. I have no proof, no sensible reason to think I will continue on another level when I have died. I might as well go back to pretending I’m invincible.

But yes, I am young. I can stand, I can fight for myself and for the things I want. I am intelligent. I agree with the scientists, when they bring overwhelming evidence that man evolved from the apes. I revel at the simplicity, the energy, the power that our ancient relatives possess. Perhaps we should not think ourselves so unlike them; maybe we have become too caught up in ourselves. I waste my strength climbing someone else’s ladder because self-righteous men decided I had to “earn” the things I enjoy. However, I’m not convinced our superiority over the apes lies in our competitive market structure or sense of justice. Power in feelings, philosophies, and social systems? We can hardly keep track of half our own emotions or thoughts. These are not our source of power, but further wasteful attempts at immortality.

Youth and our natural gifts are the only real sources of power. Inpiduals once settled issues, decided who was the best, made the rules – long before we were domesticated, before we fell off track and into the cages we now call home. We are better than the chimpanzees and gorillas. The human brain knows greater depths of trust and fear, more intricate senses of deceit and diplomacy. Why squander the strength and intelligence we have, spending our days in front of a computer or behind a counter or next to an assembly line? Meaningless rules pen us in, break our drive, keep us from the things we would have. Simple, rational justice has been forgotten in the race for wealth and love and fleeting power. Survival is the key. If society were pure, based only on what we rationally know and freed from the muck of old religions and traditions, the truly strong would be most likely to survive and prosper. Then man would see his full potential: more intelligent and creative than the primates but not such a different species that some set of higher laws must be obeyed.

Bear with me: realizing that survival is the highest goal in life, do we really need so many laws to protect the weak? Science has shown us what we really are, leaving no more excuse for imaginary gods or proud notions of justice. Tradition, armed with tales of good and evil, “right” and “wrong,” is the weapon of every government. From birth we are told, like our parents were, that there is a correct way to act and an acceptable way to live. We are tied by nonsense to our families and told we must follow made-up rules to be happy. We are permitted to strive for what we want only within these strict terms. We can maximize our enjoyment only in doses. We are trapped by generations of rhetoric and left with one solution.

Centuries of tradition are not changed easily, but living in a society does not necessarily mean abiding by its standards. What can you do, knowing that there’s no bigger picture? Ignore the rules to the greatest extent you can get away with. You have no reason to look over your shoulder. Forget what you have been tricked into believing, and remember that daily enjoyment is what really matters. Only a fool would search for more. If each would take what he could get, his true intelligence, willpower, and cunning would determine his happiness. His weaker opponents deserve not what they cannot take by plotting, cooperation, or force. Let them lose if losing is in their genes. The very history of life itself is a story of survival: follow the rest of the planet’s example.

this is not at all how i feel…i wanted to set up an anti-God argument and realized anything halfway is watered down. ie. if you don’t believe in God or creation then believing in love or truth would be silly. this is extreme and exaggerated, i know — but proves my point, i believe. read part 2 for the opposite opinion.