Elmer can't be far behind...
This was found here:
Then we drove to Mardel, the Christian and Educational Supply store, which is just down the street from Cheddars. That was the highlight of the day. Frank is the perfect guy to walk through a massive warehouse-sized Christian retail store with. He's a Christian retailer himself, and he also works for a Christian publisher. I've been involved in various aspects of Christian publishing for 30 years. We could have spent the whole week at a place like Mardel and not run out of things to talk about.
We walked through the greeting-card aisle (an area where Frank's expertise is unsurpassed and I have asolutely no experience—not even as a customer, because Darlene does all the card-buying in our family). Frank gave me an education and a whole new appreciation for what's involved in writing, publishing, and marketing cards.
Babbitt meets Babbitt, Jr.
And I've been gently trying to introduce the Royal Way to these types in their environment.
Both of these world-beaters, by the way, have banned me with public statements of dramatic, bellowing righteousness...
One of them even said: "Most likally this indeevidool's one of those God Hates Fags people!"
In the 21st century version of Babbitt-world fag-loving is cool.
Babbitt retracted that statement later, by the way. He ended up thinking I probably wasn't associated with the God Hates Fags people afterall.
Babbitt, Jr. took great offense at my saying one should fear only God and not man. Man-fearing is a central pillar of Babbitt-world. I attacked his religion directly, and he showed his God he was a warrior by exercising blog-banning function software discipline on me. Then he, apparently, went back to getting up on the latest in the Greeting Card game.
Making a living selling greeting cards...whatever. Survival can demand worse things. Bringing Babbitt-world to the Word of God and calling it Christianity... That's another thing entirely...
4 Comments:
Don't take it too hard, anybody, I'm just trying to wake these boys up... ("Good luck.") I know, I know...
I should say, though my language seems very bad, because the guy chose to be 'anonymous' I could take liberties and use him as a foil for an absolute type. In his case 'the accuser'.
I use 'bad language' too to keep myself separated from the man-fearing church level. In their world 'bad language' is the worst offense they can think of. They use language to enforce their man-fearing. Those who only fear God don't care about 'bad language'. They may not use it, but they don't care if others do.
So why do I say 'church level'? Because the visible churches are synagogues of Satan. Man-fearing domains. Domains now owned by the devil. To varying degree, yet in these end times small degree is more than enough.
Their own best confession (Westminster Confession of Faith) tells them about synagogues of Satan, but they often delete it. Much easier to not have to look at it rather than be convicted by it.
The Church of which Jesus Christ is King of course exists (it should go without saying). And assembling of God's elect of course happens. As much as the church level wants to say that is 'wrong'... It is biblical. Wherever two or more meet in His Name, He is there.
They, with their 'no effort' and man-fearing doctrine, preach death pure and simple; so I'm very harsh with them.
Notice they back down. Because they know I know the Word of God. They know I know Reformed Theology (which is to say I know biblical doctrine). They know I know where they are weak and lame. They know I can embarass them. Any of them. Anytime.
Jeff, you write:
I read Vanity Fair a couple of years ago and was disappointed to find that I didn't care much for it. Thackeray--and Dickens, too, for that matter--seem kind of cobbled together: an inevitable result of the serial publication format, perhaps. I'll take George Eliot over either of them any day. Not because "they say" she's better; she's better in spite of "them."
Here's the value of Vanity Fair (despite it's faults purely as a novel, i.e. the 'baggy monster'ism it suffers from somewhat like you compare to Dickens): Vanity Fair (and Thackeray consciously meant it to be this) is a whole cosmos depiction of vanity, worldly pride, and self-will and the world in general in the devil's kingdom. It is literally a depiction of Bunyan's Vanity Fair. And it's a very honest and on-the-mark depiction of Vanity Fair. It's actually like a religious text in this sense. Like the Fable of the Bees or something. More than a mere novel. I actually place it in my list of the seven greatest novels of all time. War and Peace, Moby Dick, Don Quixote, Vanity Fair, Brothers Karamazov, Anna Karenina, and...I can yet come up with a definitive 7th. I'm prejudiced against the 20th century, by the way... The big ones tend to be overrated, or they tend to be junior status to the big ones that came before them...
Maybe I can cheat and make Rabelais' Gargantua and Pantagruel the seventh in the list...
Or maybe de Sade's Juliette... Even though it takes a container ship full of caveates to defend it's narrow worth...
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