And old friend hits the nail on the head. WaPo Link
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And old friend hits the nail on the head. WaPo Link
Too much sad truth in this article.
"...There was a lot of talk last year about the term “post-truth,” Oxford Dictionaries’ 2016 “international word of the year,” made popular across the Anglophone world by the Brexit referendum in Britain and the U.S. presidential election. The latter event, particularly as embodied by Trump’s campaign, was said to be uniquely bereft of respect for factual truth. Well, maybe; but surely we aren’t prepared to say that American political culture pre-Trump was characterized by reverence for truth. Long before Trump got here, our political debates teemed with disinformation of every variety: gross hyperbole, calculated non sequiturs, culpable omissions, unfalsifiable accusations, deliberate vagueness, outright lies. It seems wrong to associate only Trump with this allegedly new era of untruth; thousands before him did their part.
What makes Trump different is not that he treats the truth with contempt. What makes him different is that he does so openly, almost gleefully, as if he has discovered the phoniness of a myth that holds everyone else in check....
Trump perceived, correctly in my view, that political rhetoric in the United States had become empty, a vast collection of platitudes and bogus phrases that no longer bore any real connection to the truth. Everyone else pretended to mean what they said when they didn’t; Trump simply dropped the pretense. The result is a post-Christian political discourse of a distinctively American sort: blunt and self-assured and largely free of the obligation to express yourself with sincerity. The new post-Christian discourse uses words, not as vehicles to express thoughts and arguments, but as weapons — as instruments to wrong-foot adversaries and keep them guessing while you seize the advantage.
I find it hard to lament the quickening demise of the old honesty-based political culture. It had become cheap and false. If Trump hadn’t snapped it, somebody else would have."
Bart and I went to seminary together. My claim to fame I suppose.
Running - glad you've seen this.
For those who can read while holding their noses. What I read souned like satire, overstated and tacky, in other words, perfect.
Come out for the Domhnall, ye brave men and proud,
The scion of Torquil and best of MacLeod!
With purpose and strength he came down from his tower
To snatch from a tyrant his ill-gotten power.
Now the cry has gone up with a cheer from the crowd:
“Come out for the Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!”
When freedom is threatened by slavery’s chains
And voices are silenced as misery reigns,
We’ll come out for a leader whose courage is true
Whose virtues are solid and long overdue.
For, he’ll never forget us, we men of the crowd
Who elected the Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!
When crippling corruption polluted our nation
And plunged our economy into stagnation,
As self-righteous rogues took the opulent office
And plump politicians reneged on their promise
The forgotten continued to form a great crowd
That defended the Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!
The Domhnall’s a giver whilst others just take,
Ne’er gaining from that which his hands did not make.
A builder of buildings, employing good men,
He’s enriched many cities by factors of ten.
The honest and true gladly march with the crowd
Standing up for the Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!
True friend of the migrant from both far and near,
He welcomes the worthy, but guards our frontier,
Lest a murderous horde, for whom hell is the norm,
Should threaten our lives and our nation deform.
We immigrants hasten to swell the great crowd.”
Coming out for the Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!
Academe now lies dead, the old order rots,
No longer policing our words and our thoughts;
Its ignorant hirelings pretending to teach
Are backward in vision, sophomoric in speech.
Now we learnèd of mind add ourselves to the crowd
That cheers on the Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!
The black man, forgotten, in poverty dying,
The poor man, the sick man, with young children crying,
The soldier abroad and the mother who waits,
The young without work or behind prison gates,
The veterans, wounded, all welcome the crowd
That fights for the Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!
Whilst hapless old harridans flapping their traps
Teach women to look and behave like us chaps,
The Domhnall defends the defenseless forlorn;
For, a woman’s first right is the right to be born.
Now the bonnie young lassies that fly to the crowd
For Bedell: this isn't about post-truth, but perhaps post-Christianity, at least for one believer.