Haven’t got much tonight. My lawn mowing (the rainy summer has made our grass situation in Minnesota almost tropical) took longer than usual, and no insights illuminated my meditations as I mowed.

Here’s a piece from Gene Edward Veith’s Cranach blog, which links to a further article by Anne Applebaum about Tom Sawyer, and how what was recognized as normal boyhood behavior in Mark Twain’s time, is labeled a personality disorder and medicated in ours.

I mention this purely as a matter of justice, having no personal dog in the fight. I myself was a quiet and compliant child, the kind of kid Tom and Huck would have tied to a tree and then left to his own devices, laughing as they ran off.



About the only other thought I have is one concerning the same-sex marriage dispute.

The side that favors the redefinition of marriage constantly appeals (or this is my perception) to science. They have science and reason on their side, they insist, while traditional marriage defenders have nothing but tradition and fear.

But doesn’t it take a certain amount of plain faith to be completely certain that abandoning a cultural template which has been universal as far back in human history as we can look, will surely have no adverse effects whatever? Is that not also an assurance of things hoped for, a conviction of things not seen?

I’ve gone a little nuts in the last two days, and it bothers me a bit. I expect it’s a sign of oncoming dementia.

What I mean is, I spent money on two things that were not absolutely necessary for me to have, and which were not books.

First of all, I replaced my cell phone. I’ve had my old, bare-bones one for several years now, and had been thinking it was time to replace it. My service provider offered a very good deal on a new Nokia. It has a camera, which is cool, though I don’t think I actually have the technology to upload its pictures anywhere. (Remember, I’m paying 10 cents a minute for calls on this thing. How many pictures do I take that are worth a dime?)

Also, it’s got a flip cover. So at long last, I have a Captain Kirk phone. This is extremely satisfying to my inner Sheldon Cooper.

Also, I’ve registered for the Vinland Seminar in Chicago, in October. Because of my acquaintance with some of the organizers, and my long-distance acquaintance with one of the speakers, Prof. Torgrim Titlestad (who did me the honor of mentioning one of my books in a couple of his), I decided I ought to go. It will be an opportunity to rub shoulders with some experts in the field of Viking studies, in particular Prof. Birgitta Wallace, who used to be the chief archaeologist at the Leif Eriksson Dig in Newfoundland. She carries the eternal honor of finding the butternuts. And if you don’t know what that means, you should research it.

Also I have permission to hawk my books there, so maybe I can make back part of my expenses.

Next week, I’ll probably run off to Vegas and get married. I’ll keep you posted.

Here’s something I fully expect to see in my lifetime, in an editorial in some newspaper (if newspapers still exist by then):

There has been a lot of impassioned demagogery in recent days over the latest decision of the U.S. Ninth District Court of Appeals. It seems to me what’s needed here is less emotion and more reasoned analysis. Let’s look at the facts.

The reality is, in the more than two centuries since our Constitution was drafted, great changes have been made in the culture of the United States. The Founding Fathers, for all their reputed brilliance, weren’t a very diverse group. They were without exception products of northern European culture and the Christian religion, whatever their personal beliefs might have been. They shared certain prejudices (referred to in the Declaration of Independence, some years earlier, as “self-evident” truths) that had not been greatly tested in the parochial environment in which they lived their lives.

Since that time, America has been marvelously enriched by the entrance of millions of immigrants, many of whom have come from cultures and traditions very different from that of the West. Some of these minority groups have very different attitudes to matters of governance and justice than those traditional in our country.

If our new neighbors have no trust in democracy, but feel more comfortable with a hereditary monarch, who are we to insist our way is better?

If our new neighbors see no sense in our legal system (and let’s be honest, it’s hard not to sympathize), but prefer, let’s say, trial by ordeal, can we truly be sure our approach is superior?

If our new neighbors want to continue ancient traditions of arranged marriages, or human slavery, is it really appropriate for “native born Americans,” carrying as we do the immense burden of guilt arising from our shameful, imperialistic history, to forbid such time-honored practices?

Certainly not.

And for that reason, Judge ________ ___________ was well justified last week, in declaring the U.S. Constitution unconstitutional.

I don’t think I need to expound here on what I think about yesterday’s decision by a U.S. District judge that California’s Proposition Eight marriage protection measure is unconstitutional. The judge’s name is Walker, which is (I hope) irrelevant. I’m not sure that it’s also irrelevant that he’s an open homosexual (appointed by the first President Bush—thanks again, George).

It’s tempting to call the whole thing unfair because the judge must have been biased. But if the judge were heterosexual, would that be less biased (though I’d expect a straight Ninth District judge to rule pretty much the same way)?

Any issue of gender has to be one where it’s hard to find anybody neutral. I don’t think we have a lot of eunuch judges available (though my knowledge of judges is limited).

But it reminds me of another issue involved in Njal’s Saga, about which I wrote yesterday. A common way of settling a legal dispute in the sagas (I’ve used it several times in my novels, because it cuts through a lot of red tape) is to offer “self-judgment.” Self-judgment is an option when you’re up against another man and have a sneaking suspicion you’re in the wrong, or that you’re representing someone who’s in the wrong. You can’t apologize, because that isn’t done in an honor-based culture. But if your opponent is an honorable man, it can be a shrewd strategy to offer him self-judgment—to say, “Set your own price on your injuries, and I’ll pay it.”

Offering self-judgment pays a compliment to your opponent (you’re publicly demonstrating that you consider him fair-minded. And if he asks an outrageous fine, he’ll forfeit some of the honor you’ve just paid him).

I don’t think Judge Vaughn Walker is someone I’d offer self-judgment to.



One further item—my Australian friend Hal Colebatch has a new column up at The American Spectator. It’s called “Don’t Be Scared of Godwin’s So-Called Law,” and deals with the common “rule” (which I’ve never known liberals to observe for themselves) that it’s always out of order to bring Nazis into a political discussion. Colebatch says, oh no it isn’t.

Try mentioning to a euthanasia advocate that the Nazi extermination program started off as an exercise in medical euthanasia. And as for suggesting that Jews and Israel are in danger of a second holocaust if Muslim extremists have their way, just wait for: “Godwin’s Law!” “Godwin’s law!” repeated with a kind of witless assumption of superiority reminiscent of school playground chants.

Worth reading.

The blog of a Cuban who became an Orthodox Priest has a post on Calvin & Hobbes. Ahh, the virtuous life! What a dream of happiness it is.

For reasons I’ll keep to myself (for a change), I’ve been thinking about growing old lately. That leads me to consider my whole generation, that fabled company known in the West as the Baby Boomers. I’m confident that future historians (I trust there will be some) will certainly rank us as one of the greatest disasters in western history.

The generation of Americans that survived the Depression and won the Second World War faced the post-war years with two firm goals—to have families, and to give their children everything they never had. The children they bore were (by and large) the most cherished, the most cossetted, and the most privileged in human history. Many (not all, but enough) were taught that they were the center of the universe, the most important people in the world. As they grew older, they were confidently informed that they were the smartest, best-educated, wisest generation the world had ever seen. They would, they were assured, change the world forever.

And change it they did. Continue reading The wreck of the Narcissist →

World’s Anthony Bradley describes his motive for teaching a class of boys the fundamentals of the faith.

A ninth-grade history teacher and I decided to create a “Men’s Bible Study” for our students because we noticed that the feminization of church was churning out a generation of “nice guys” who were not capable of leading, had no sense of why God created them to be men—other than have a family and a nice job—and were oddly passive. The ninth-grade boys would walk the halls with heads bowed and shoulders slouched as if they were carrying 80-pound weights in each hand as their bodies were carried along by an airport terminal moving sidewalk.