Our Loss, Our Peril

I come from a long line of divorce. My parents were divorced when I was two (or younger--I don't remember, it was a long time ago), and both of my sets of grandparents were divorced. And though I don't have a firm grasp on the more distant roots of my family tree, I know that at least one of my sets of great-grandparents were divorced before them.

You probably already know where this is going, but please lend me your attention anyway. I promise I won't preach at you or repeat the worn cliches that have blunted all of our dialog about the American family.

I love my parents. Both of them. And I love all my grandparents, living and dead. I think they are all good and admirable people. Their failure to sustain their first marriages does not make them failures as human beings. But here is a truth: their children have suffered. It is an inevitability, when two people who got married and had kids decide they can't wait till death do they part, that their offspring will pay dearly.

This is an obvious truth, but it is so buried in the terror of offense that it seems almost impolite to say it. Divorce sucks. It's stupid and wrong and it represents a crumbling of health and holiness. In retrospect, it is easier to see the costs of failed marriages in the repercussions that manifest in the lives of those who are totally blameless; no child ever caused his or her parents to split up, but they bear the heaviest cost.

As horrible as divorce is, however, it has become the norm. There is a popular line of humor, lately, suggesting that marital longevity is some sort of torturous feat. That if two people have been together for more than twenty years, it's almost a given that they're miserable. The people who preach this stuff seem to think they're cutting into fresh and necessary truth, but in fact they have been blinded by misery. It's easy to look around and see what's done the blinding. Lots of married people are unhappy.

This presents us all with an important question: Should we accept something on the basis that it has become status quo? I hope that sounds familiar to you, because its answer has motivated every socially progressive agenda ever. We are not tolerant of hopelessness, nor should we ever be. And yet the received wisdom of our era is that marriage is a fleeting institution of mutual gratification at best, and a nightmarish consensual prison at worst.

Last week, I asked the question, "What one thing poses the greatest threat to the future of the United States?" What is the United States? Is it the institution of our federal or state governments? Is it the physical territory that occupies the bottom half of North America? Is it the founding documents, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, or the current fifty-mile ream of active legislation?

Some wise people have described our nation as a set of ideals, and I like that. But the thing about an ideal is that it only exists in the mind of a person. Principles, truths that dictate human behavior, wisdom distilled from ages of hard learning--these are things that evaporate into nothing if they are not held in the minds and hearts of a people. But what holds them there over generations?

Our answer has always been education. That's fair, but we seem to be doing a pretty lousy job of it lately. Lots of people have lots of ideas as to how we can do better, but there are only a comparatively few lonely voices suggesting the painful notion that perhaps the youth of this country are too busy paying the high cost of their parents' mistakes to have the time or energy to absorb the sorts of principles upon which this great country was founded.

There is, of course, endlessly more we could and should say about marriage--what it's for, and what we lose when it fails--but for now, I'll try to summarize my ramblings thus far. The family is the only institution capable of deeply educating the nation's children to become powerfully contributing citizens. We don't want to believe this, because the ideal nuclear family, that bastion of love and learning, has become so rare. Easier to claim that it is outdated, and that our society has "evolved" beyond that simplistic model. And so many of us have ceased to strive for it.

In so doing, we have opened the gates of catastrophe. How, in our dust-speck efforts, can we close them up again?

After some years, some thoughts

I should have waited another couple of weeks to make it an even three years from my last post on this blog. 

Anyway. I created “That Hideous Strength” because I needed a medium through which to express some of my passions more tangibly. Words are a powerful tool for organizing thoughts to be reviewed and responded to. Periodically, I rant about things to friends (and unfortunate acquaintances), but verbal diatribe are disorganized and ephemeral. It’s actually pretty tough to really exchange ideas in such a haphazard way. 

I’ve been passionate about politics for at least the past six years or so, but it’s only been recently that my failure to record some of my thoughts has become painful enough to motivate a resurrection of this abandoned blog.

Four years ago, I looked around and despaired as I perceived a broad apathy. It was to this that I ascribed the title. Now, however, I feel somewhat differently. I think there’s still plenty of apathy, but now the dominant sentiments seem to be either frustrated resignation (politics are horrible), or ignorant passion (close-minded antagonism). Of both, I have been and am by turns guilty. But they too are hideous strengths, just as dangerous and destructive as apathy. 

Passion is great, but let it be informed. Let it be arrived at by reason and great efforts toward understanding. Let it be charitable. I won’t promise not to rage and rant, and I expect to be called out when I’m being intolerant, close-minded or boorish. It’s OK, I have thick skin. But I will promise to do my best to present my arguments, opinions and ideas coherently, and with as much understanding as I can bring to the table. And I promise to speak as charitably as I know how. I won’t attack people, mostly (Harry Reid is one obvious exception). 

That said, here are the topics you’ll likely see me cover in near-future posts, some of which will receive treatment, I’m sure, in multiple posts:

• The philosophical foundations of the left
• The philosophical foundations of the right
• Gay marriage
• Welfare
• Financial policies
• Founding doctrines (how our government got started)
• Communities
• Families
• Capitalism, Socialism, Communism...Darwinism(!)
• Politicians and pundits I hate (there are plenty)
• Politicians and pundits I love (there are some)
• Lying
• What “Republic” means
• What “Democracy” means
• Racism
• Religion
• Et cetera!

Pretty much none of those things, I realize, are specific. The posts themselves will be, sometimes. BUT! I really want to know what kinds of things really fire YOU up. What kinds of conversations would you like to see me start? I can keep soap boxing forever on my own (if you’ve met me, you know this totally), but it’ll be more interesting, maybe, to respond to some specific topical interest. So if you’ve got one, leave it in the comments. 

As an end to this re-introduction of my political blog, let me pose this question: What one thing, in your opinion, poses the greatest threat to the future of the United States? I suppose that would be as good of a place as any to start, so I’ll answer my own question in my next post. 

Until then.