logos redux

I once heard a political hack complain because most of proposed conservative tax cuts went to the rich.

Um, yes. Quick civics lesson: Rich people pay the most taxes. Tax cuts tend to benefit the people that pay the taxes. Hence, any plan to cut taxes will logically benefit most those who pay the most, i.e., the rich.

Complaining about tax cuts benefiting the rich is like complaining that the egg-cuts in grocery stores are benefiting chickens. Er, yes. Where did you think the eggs came from, sir?

This is nauseating. I’ll sample a few quotes just so you can get a feel for it. Keep in mind that Twitter has done everything imaginable to make it clear that it is a fun, lighthearted, tool for sharing information.

“Last year, Voelz, a pastor, was tweeting at a conference outside Nashville about ways to make the church experience more creative — ways to “make it not suck” — when suddenly it hit him: Twitter.”

“In Seattle, Mars Hill churchgoers regularly tweet throughout the service. In New York City, Trinity Church marked Good Friday by tweeting the Passion play, detailing the stages of Jesus’ crucifixion in short bursts. At Next Level Church, outside Charlotte, N.C., it’s not only O.K. to fuse social-networking technology with prayer; it’s desirable.”

“On Easter Sunday, pastor Todd Hahn prefaced his sermon by saying, “I hope many of you are tweeting this morning about your experience with God.”

“It’s a huge responsibility of a church to leverage whatever’s going on in the broader culture, to connect people to God and to each other,” says Hahn”

“If increased government spending with borrowed or newly created money is a ’stimulus,’ then the Weimar Republic should have been stimulated to unprecedented prosperity, instead of runaway inflation and widespread economic desperation that ultimately brought Adolf Hitler to power.”

Thomas Sowell, “Random Thoughts“

I ran across this article recently, in which the author contends that,

“[M]usic without words is morally neutral. By that I mean that sound by itself cannot express truth, or communicate belief or propositional truth. I also contend that music style is neutral, ethically and morally. No style should be considered evil or off limits in expressing the Gospel. I believe that a Christian composer has the freedom to use any style, any materials.”

Barry Liesch

As a musician, I must say that this opinion is plain stupid. Continue Reading…

Here is another blogger saying exactly what I wanted to say (and, I think, did say) in my post on propriety in worship. Couldn’t have said it better myself:

“I hear this often. ‘Don’t substitute your taste for God’s!’ or, ‘Things vary from one culture to the next. It’s all contextual.’ (This is the emerging church philosophy applied to music that’s been around for years.) Here is my response… Continue Reading…

Here she checked herself in some alarm, at hearing something that sounded to her like the puffing of a large steam-engine in the wood near them, though she feared it was more likely to be a wild beast. “are there any lions or tigers about here?” she asked timidly.

It’s only the Red King snoring,” said Tweedledee.

“Come and look at him!” the brothers cried, and they each took one of Alice’s hands and led her up to where the King was sleeping.

“Isn’t he a lovely sight?” said Tweedledum.

Alice couldn’t say honestly that he was. He had a tall red night-cap on, with a tassel, and he was lying crumpled up into a sort of untidy heap and snoring loud - “fit to snore his head off!” as Tweedledum remarked.

“I’m afraid he’ll catch cold with lying on the damp grass,” said Alice, who was a very thoughtful little girl.

“He’s dreaming now,” said Tweedledee: “and what do you think he’s dreaming about?”

Alice said, “Nobody can guess that.”

“Why, about you!” Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly. “And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you’d be?”

“Where I am now, of course,” said Alice.

“Not you!” Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. “You’d be nowhere. Why, you’re only a sort of thing in his dream!

“If that there King was to wake,” added Tweedledum, “you’d gou out–bang!–just like a candle!”

“I shouldn’t!” Alice exclaimed indignantly. “Besides, if I’m only a sort of thing in his dream, what are you, I should like to know?”

“Ditto,” said Tweedledum.

“Ditto, ditto!” cried Tweedledee.

He shouted this so loud that Alice couldn’t help saying, “Hush! You’ll be waking him, I’m afraid, if you make so much noise.”

“Well, it’s no use your talking about waking him,” said Tweedledum, when you’re only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you’re not real.”

“I am real!” said Alice, and began to cry.

“You won’t make yourself a bit realler by crying ,” Tweedledee remarked; “there’s nothing to cry about.”

“If I wasn’t real,” Alice said–half-laughing through her tears, it all seemed so ridiculous–”I shouldn’t be able to cry.”

“I hope you don’t suppose those are real tears?” Tweedledum interrupted in a tone of great contempt.

“I know they’re talking nonsense,” Alice thought to herself: “and it’s foolish to cry about it.” So she brushed awayher tears and went on as cheerfully as she could, “At any rate I’d better be getting out of the wood, for really it’s coming on very dark…

-Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass, Chapter IV

Me: Do you want to be an organ donor?

Girl: Can I? Here?

“You seem very clever at explaining words, sir,” said Alice. “Would you kindly tell me the meaning of the poem called ‘Jabberwocky?’”

“Let’s hear it,” said Humpty Dumpty. “I can explain all the poems that ever were invented–and a good many that haven’t been invented just yet.”

This sounded very hopeful, so Alice repeated the first verse:

“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogroves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.”

“That’s enough to begin with,” Humpty Dumpty interrupted: “there are plenty of hard words there. Continue Reading…

…–and that shows that there are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents–”

“Certainly,” said Alice.

“And only one for birthday presents, you know. There’s glory for you!”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘glory,’” Alice said.

Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. “Of course you don’t–till I tell you. I meant ‘there’s a nice knock-down argument for you!’”

“But ‘glory’ doesn’t mean ‘a nice knock-down argument,’” Alice objected.

Continue Reading…