Organic Moralism

From Doug Wilson:

When it comes to food choices, I think catholic and eclectic is good -- live and let live, eat and let eat. What I can't abide is moralism about food. In the absence of any word from God on it, it would be wisdom on our part to keep quiet about what we see on the other fellow's fork. But we don't. We legislate for others, and make censorious faces at them. We launch crusades.

In short, a sexually guilty people have accepted as "normal" the most unnatural practices imaginable, and they have then demanded that their food be "all natural." Wisdom is vindicated by her children. This guilt-driven desire has resulted in an entire industry springing up that caters to the deep desire that a morally inferior people have to feel morally superior. That's hard to do, and so there's money to be made there if you pull it off. You have to pick something out at random, and then make people bad for deviating from the new arbitrary norm.

The "Told You So" Edition

A couple of events that transpired this week demonstrated the profound, prescient, and...I don't know--I'm looking for one more "p" word here...pusillanimous?--former nature of this blog, back when I actually used to write it.

First, baby-faced congenital liar John Edwards finally admitted this week to being the father of his former mistress's baby. That should have come as a surprise to absolutely no sentient human being (except perhaps Mrs. Edwards), and should particularly not have been a surprise to any regular Rabe Rambling's visitors. On the day Edwards finally admitted the affair in 2008 (after the National Enquirer got the goods on him while the mainstream media determinedly looked the other way), he was quick to assure us that the baby was not--could not have been--his. I helped you understand that of course it was his baby, and that he was a huge liar:

Elizabeth Edwards' cancer reoccurred in March 2007. Assuming normal gestation, this child would have been conceived in May 2007. If that child belongs to John Edwards, he's the world's biggest cad, and as a politician he knows this. It's over for him. So he claims that the affair ended in 2006....But does that claim withstand even a moment's scrutiny? If the affair ended in 2006 as he claims...[w]hy was he photographed in his former mistress's hotel room holding some other guy's baby?

I also noticed this week that the liberal radio network Air America finally gave up the ghost--just as I said it would, and for the reasons I said it would--on the very day of its launch back in 2004:

The spectacular flop that will be "the liberal talk network" (known officially as Air America Radio) launched moments ago, in case you hadn't heard....you'll want to tune in quickly (if, that is, you happen to live near one of the five enlightened radio stations carrying this insightful commentary). Something tells me it might not be around for long.

Frankly, it's amazing that it was able to limp along for nearly six years. It was non-entertaining, unfunny, and just bad radio. It started bouncing checks only weeks after its debut, and seemed to be in near-constant bankruptcy proceedings. Don't worry, though--it's only a matter of time before media chuckleheads begin claiming that AA failed not because it was terrible radio run by business incompetents, but rather because its target audience was just too darned smart to listen to talk radio anyway.

I also obliquely predicted the death of Artie Lange last year, and while he is still alive, he did try to kill himself a few weeks ago. So I get at least partial credit for that.

Let the lesson be learned: I know stuff. If you wish to know what future months and years hold, just go back and read the archives. And Harry Morgan--I've got quite a track record, so you'd better be looking over your shoulder.

Air America John Edwards Artie Lange

Happy New Year!

A few notes to start 2010 off on the right foot.

• It shall henceforth be pronounced "twenty-ten," NOT "two-thousand ten." We had a bit of confusion during the first decade of the new millennium because of those double-zeros. It would have sounded strange to say, for instance, "it's twenty-oh-seven." So we got a bye for the first decade. But that's it. Nobody walks around saying, "I was born in one thousand, nine-hundred and sixty-eight." If we continued along our current pronunciation path, we'd be encumbering future generations with an awful burden. So, henceforth, we are adopting "twenty." Hey, that's the way it was in all the futuristic predictions anyway (e.g. "Why, by the year twenty-thirty seven, people will no longer have saliva but will instead have their food digested for them by specially built androids!") So twenty-ten it is. Your immediate assent and cooperation is appreciated.

• Please, someone needs to stop Dick Clark. I liked the guy as much as anybody, but it has to stop. It's not getting better--it's getting worse. Retirement's not bad; he can spend the time counting his piles of money. I as much as anyone appreciate his apparent desire to refrain from inflicting the full measure of Ryan Seacrest on us for as long as possible, but things are getting embarrassing. Perhaps the only thing more embarrassing is that I was in front of the TV watching "Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve" at midnight on December 31.

• Since we were in front of the tube, though, I do appreciate ABC's consideration, as my kids got to see Jennifer Lopez in a see-through unitard (though I don't think that's actually why Dick Clark was drooling) and to hear the Black Eyed Peas tell us how bad they want us (ooh, ooh, ooh). Keep it classy, ABC.

• For Christmas, I received a DVD copy of Collision, the documentary film chronicling series of debates and discussions between vehement atheist Christopher Hitchens and devout Christian Doug Wilson. I highly recommend it. It's thought-provoking and instructive as two of the best champions for their viewpoint slug it out. As in the Christianity Today exchanges that launched the film project, Hitchens repeatedly (and necessarily) avoids answering the question of where he finds the stringent moral standard he urges upon all of us in his writing. As Wilson points out, in the atheistic worldview, there is (as John Lennon famously sang) "above us only sky." Which means, above Auschwitz, only sky. Above Buchenwald, only sky. The bare universe doesn't care whether you help old ladies across the street or run over them, but Hitchens cannot bring himself to write as if this were really true. I recommend the film, and as far as I can tell, Hitchens is pleased with it too (having appeared on numerous programs to promote it after it was completed). It's something most modern "debates" are not: thoughtful.