All posts by Lars Walker

Last transmission from a sinking ship

I thought after the siege of common cold I suffered through in December, I’d enjoy some kind of immunity for the rest of the winter. (I know that idea has no scientific basis, but I cling to my superstitions.) But I’ve got another one. I’m canceling a couple things I’d planned this weekend, and hope to hunker in the bunker until Monday.

By way of Grim’s Hall, here’s an interesting site: Strangemaps.

I’m not a map fanatic, but I think they’re cool. I learned a whole lot about the Old West years back, when I worked my way through most of Louis L’Amour’s works with a Rand McNally atlas at my elbow. The geography in L’Amour is solid, and you’d be surprised what geography explains as you study history.

Have a good weekend.

Various things about conservatism

Cold today, but merely cold. Nature did not add insult to injury, and for that I’m quiveringly grateful. Thank you, Master! Thank you for torturing me less!



If I were a leftist,
my heart would go pitty-pat over this story (by way of the Thinklings). The guy who ran CleanFlix, a now-defunct service that served up sanitized versions of movies for family viewing, turns out to have been a p*rn merchant, and has been arrested for sex with underage girls.

The story doesn’t say whether he made any claim to be a Christian. And I’m not sure what the moral is—never do business with anybody until you’ve had a private investigator follow him around for a month? I remember an anecdote I read years ago, written by a guy who’d worked for a p*rn magazine. He once asked his boss, “What’ll I do with all these letters telling us we’re going to Hell?” And the boss replied, “Keep ‘em. Maybe we can sell them Bibles someday.”

But it’s a black eye for the pro-family movement, fairly or not. At least it’ll be spun that way.

Over at City Journal, Andrew Klavan has posted this tremendous, magisterial essay on the evolution of war films in American culture. You’ll want to take time and read this.



I’m going to stray into politics now,
which I try to avoid within these precincts. However, I won’t be hyping any candidate, as you’ll see.

This morning I was listening to Laura Ingraham, as I generally do at work. She was criticizing some things fellow talker Michael Medved had said on one of the TV news channels last night.

“Now he’s saying,” said Laura, “that all the rest of us in talk radio are liberals!”

As proof she played a clip from the interview. In the clip, Medved said, not that the other talk show hosts (who generally oppose the candidacy of Sen. John McCain, whom he supports) were liberals, but that they were “thinking like liberals,” because they were (in his opinion) responding to McCain on an emotional rather than a rational level.

Laura apparently didn’t notice that her own response in fact demonstrated Medved’s point. She was making an emotional response to something she imagined Medved had said, rather than paying attention to his actual words and responding to them in a reasoned manner.

By the way, I’m not a McCain supporter. I admire the heck out of him for his Vietnam War service, and I respect his devotion to his principles. I’m just not sure what all of those principles are.

But conservatives ought to engage in reasoned, civilized discussion. Let’s leave the theatrical outrage over imagined insults to the other side.

Of China and Spain

Today was actually colder than yesterday, but it felt warmer because we didn’t have that Ginzu wind that seemed to have something personal against us all on Tuesday.

News is that they’re having an unusually severe winter in China, and that all kinds of people are stranded in railroad stations, since this is a heavy travel period in that country (their New Year is next week). Normally, heartless Occidental that I am, I’m only vaguely concerned about what happens over there, be it never so cataclysmic. But as it happens my Youngest Niece is spending two years teaching in China right now, and she’s taking this holiday time for traveling too. I hope the worst that happens is that she’ll have some interesting traveler’s stories to bring back.

I’m reading Stephen Hunter’s Tapestry of Spies (originally published as The Spanish Gambit) right now. What strikes me most about it is the tremendous difference the lack of a strong hero makes. Tapestry of Spies is a fascinating fictional account of a proxy battle between Russian and English spymasters during the Spanish Civil War. There are sympathetic characters (in fact, most of the characters are sympathetic to some degree, which is a very good thing in a novel), but there’s no character you embrace with all your heart, like Bob Lee Swagger and his father Earl in Hunter’s Swagger series. (There is a “Bob the Nailer” in this book, but he’s a sniper on the Fascist side who never actually appears—at least as far as I’ve read to date.)

Here’s a tip for any writer who wants to write a bestselling series. Give us a big, strong, courageous, admirable hero to adore. I’m not saying he has to be perfect. Bob Lee Swagger, for instance, is a recovering alcoholic, and his social skills are lousy. But I still want to be him, and that keeps me coming back to the books.

The polysyllabic revolution

Whoo-boy. That was like a one-two combination from George Foreman. No, that’s wrong. It was like someone giving you a big warm kiss, then knifing you in the back. With a knife they kept in the deep freeze. I’m talking about the weather, of course. After yesterday’s (relatively) tropical temperatures, we woke this morning to plunging mercury and a carborundum-honed wind. The wind chill temperature tonight is predicted to be about 30 below. And tomorrow will be colder than today.

I tell you this because I know you care. Because I want you marvel at my sheer, primal will to survive. Because I want someone to persuade me to move south!

No, not really. I tried living in Florida. I missed the titanic struggle, the clash of man against nature. Also I missed spring.

Today’s subject: long words. If you read an older book in English, and then read a contemporary book, one of the differences you’ll note is that the older book will have used a lot more big words. Since the time of Hemingway, big words have gone out of fashion in the Anglosphere. There are good reasons for this change, since most every writer has discovered that cutting out the big words and going for simple ones adds considerable punch to prose. Whenever I give advice on writing, one of the first things I suggest is replacing long words (which usually come from Latin by way of French) with short words (which tend to be Anglo-Saxon ones). Write “door” instead of “portal.” Write “cat” instead of “feline.”

This is odd in a way, because Anglo-Saxon was a Germanic language, and German is notorious for its long words. In a bizarre twist, it was the infusion of French/Latin that permitted us to avoid the famous German monstrosities that read like “gerfundenlieberanbrachtsblechtzheitzgrund.” (That’s not a real word, just in case you were wondering.)

I talked about this with a friend in the Viking Age Society a while back. He used to work as a machinist, and at one point his company had to install a piece of equipment made in Germany. The installation manual was in German. My friend isn’t fluent in the language, but he knew a little, so got stuck with the job of figuring out how to put the thing together. He found one item missing, and had to order it. It was a special kind of cotter pin. He told me what the thing was called in German, and it was a ridiculously long name for a very small piece of steel. “But,” he said, “that name was incredibly precise. It described exactly what the pin was for. In English, we just say, ‘cotter pin,’ and that doesn’t really tell us anything.”

It was his opinion that this extreme precision of vocabulary is one of the reasons Germans do so well in the world of engineering. Our English language, compared to German, is sloppy and inefficient.

On top of that, our really technical words are generally borrowings from Latin or Greek. This worked well when it was assumed that all educated English-speakers knew Latin and Greek, but that’s no longer the case. When a German looks at one of his millipede words, he can break it down into its constituents and figure out what it means. When we English-speakers look at our long words, we generally go away as ignorant as when we started.

What’s to be done? Shall we surrender our English-speaking primacy in the world to the greater efficiency of Germans and others?

No, I say. I say we must institute a program of English compounding. From now on, instead of saying, “philanthropic,” we should start saying “humankindlovingandgenerous.” Instead of “polygamous,” we should say, “marryinglotsofpeople.” Instead of “progressive,” we could say, “happytospendotherpeople’smoney.”

I share these ideas at no cost, because I care about making a better world for all of us. Because I’m humankindlovingandgenerous.

Warming up Mom

The Minnesota blog Freedom Dogs posted this YouTube video yesterday, and I forwarded the URL to several people, because I thought it was hilarious. Maybe you’ve got to live up here to appreciate it, but this is gritty, slice-of-life filmmaking.

By the way, Minnesotans for Global Warming is a real group. They’re planning a rally at the state capitol this weekend.

I’d be tempted to go, except it’s so cold this time of year.

Today was quite nice, actually. The mercury rocketed up to about 40° F. (that’s about 5° Euro). Driving home, I saw people sitting at outside tables at a coffee shop (they were wearing parkas, but they were nevertheless drinking their coffee outside).

But it’s all a cheat. All tease. Tomorrow the high temperature will be 25 or 30 degrees lower than today. And the high Wednesday will be about zero. Then it’ll ease up a little, but there’s plenty of freeze left in the freezer.

That’s why I think nature worship will never catch on in Minnesota. If you live in California, you might be able to join some animist cult and delude yourself into thinking Mother Nature is a soft and indulgent sort, a nurturer. Up here we know her better. We figured out long ago that if she doesn’t take her medication regularly she’s likely to wander out of the house in her nightgown, and sometimes at night you hear her playing with the cutlery in the kitchen, and you wonder…

For a writer without a publisher, this is just about the last straw

The fact that he’s going to have his memoirs published probably surprises me less (in today’s media world) than the fact that he’s still alive at all.

Via Blue Crab Boulevard: Cheetah, the chimp from the Johnny Weismuller movies, will finally tell all.

Expect a heart-wrenching account of a life-long struggle against speciesist stereotypes.

“I never got the girl,” the hominid will complain. “I really wanted to direct, but I couldn’t get past the glass ceiling.”

Fred Scuttle eclesiology

Since I’m on a roll with this anti-unity argument (by the way, what do you have when you don’t have unity? You have diversity. That’s a good thing, right?), I’ll extend it with some remarks on the subject of Christian unity. The opinions expressed below are my own, and do not represent the views of Brandywine Books, its employees or parent corporation, or of real persons, living or dead.

It may be different for those of you not connected to “mainline” denominations (so called because their leaders either use intravenous drugs or act as if they do), but for those of us who are so connected, it’s hard to go a week without hearing or reading some lament about “the shameful lack of unity within the Christian church,” or even “the sin of disunity in the church.”

The Fred Scuttle principle applies here, just as in politics. Fred’s idea of “popular prices” is prices he likes. The ecumenists’ (that’s the name for people who promote institutional Christian unity) idea of reconciliation is a world-wide church that runs precisely along the lines they approve of.

This is the part they never talk about. Their proposals are all very touch-feely, very kum-ba-ya. They include very few concrete proposals at first.

Because somebody’s got to give up something. I believe in congregational church government (that’s odd for a Lutheran, but I belong to an odd Lutheran group). My Catholic friend (I have at least one) believes strongly in episcopal government (that means bishops call the shots). Continue reading Fred Scuttle eclesiology

Fred Scuttle politics

The temperature was subzero and bitter this morning when I went to work, but it eased gradually through the day. Didn’t get as warm as the forecast promised, but tomorrow is supposed to be in the teens, and we may actually see a little melt over the weekend.

This is the point where we say to ourselves, “Maybe this will be the last hard siege of the winter. Maybe it’ll be uphill from here.”

This is pure self-delusion, but self-delusion is one of the coping devices that permit us to live in this part of the country.



Today’s subject: “Bringing us all together.”
One of the presidential candidates (let’s call him, oh, Baback Orama) made a speech about wanting to bring all Americans together. Dennis Prager pounced on it and has been jumping on it off and on ever since. I thought I’d comment too, because it’s a general subject I’ve been thinking about for a long time.

I first started noticing this, if I remember correctly, while watching how the news media reported on religion. Every time a liberal was elected to the leadership of a denomination, it was treated as a straight story. “Dr. Bozo, a world-renowned expert on Syro-Phoenician gerunds, has a disarming sense of humor, plays the harmonium, and is well-liked both by supporters and opponents.” That sort of thing. Continue reading Fred Scuttle politics

Bowling — the next big thing

Today the temperature didn’t claw its way up much past zero (about 17 Celsius, for our European readers), but according to the best authorities it will be warmer tomorrow, and may get up around freezing by the weekend. Oh, how sweet that sounds—“up around freezing.” Where did I put my sunscreen?

I’ve had an unaccustomed streak of feeling unusually good for the past week or so, but tonight I’m depleted. It probably has something to do with my renter waking me up at 5:00 a.m. to jump-start his car, but I also feel as if I’m coming down with another cold. So I’m galvanizing my stomach with zinc tablets, as Phil has counseled me.

I found myself, while driving home tonight, behind a car with a bumper sticker that said, “Equal Rights Are Not Special Rights.”

I don’t think it was an act of unreasonable stereotyping for me to assume that anybody with a bumper sticker like that is very likely homosexual.

Then the car turned off into a bowling alley.

What’s wrong with this picture? I thought.

Perhaps I was observing the first emanations of a harbinger. Perhaps the creative minds that determine what’s fashionable and what’s not in our culture have decided, at long last, to embrace the noble and ancient sport of bowling.

Think of it—bowling, the new feng shui.

Bowling shirts will suddenly be trés chic, seen on all the A List celebrities, and on sale in trendy shops at exorbitant prices.

Bowling shoes will come in exciting new colors.

Bowling alley snack bars will start selling brie and espresso and white wine.

The movie “Kingpin” will be adapted into a Broadway musical.

“Bowling For Dollars” will be revived on network television in prime time.

Go now and invest in Brunswick stock. And remember, you read it here first.

A character’s character

You may have noted I’ve slowed down with the book reviews. This is because I’ve been writing more (for reasons I may or may not explain, depending on future events), and so have spent less time reading.

But I’m working my way through another Koontz, Midnight. One thing that strikes me as I read it is how much I appreciate the “nice” characters. This is common in Koontz, and more uncommon in novels generally than you might expect. It reminds me a little of C.S. Lewis’ That Hideous Strength, because you have to slog through hard, dry stretches featuring evil characters who are gradually losing their humanity, which only makes the bright sections, with people you like and root for, even more enjoyable.

Good characters (I think I’ve blogged about this before) are a real problem for the novelist. Villains are easy. Good characters have tripped up authors by the dozens. Sometimes they’re so wishy-washy, dull and passive that they bore the reader. Other times they’re unconvincingly cheery and chipper, and you just want to strangle them.

I can think of two reasons why authors have this problem.

If the author is not himself a very good person, he thinks he understands good people, but probably doesn’t. John 1:5: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not comprehended it.” There’s a great scene (If I remember correctly) in Charles Williams’ All Hallows Eve, in which an evil scientist uses a device to try to monitor the mind of a virtuous woman. He finds that he can’t stand it. The environment is incomprehensible and painful for him.

On the other hand, if the author is a pretty good person, he probably isn’t paying close attention to himself, and so knows as little about how his mind works as the bad person knows.

But when it works, it works, and your reader will want to come back.