American Clarity Essays political, philosophical, and theological from an American romantic.

A people’s forfeiture of self-rule — what does it look like?  Does surrender build piece by piece, day by day, law by law; or does it happen suddenly, publicly, officially — expressedly? Is it not debt that exceeds the boundaries of conceptualization?  Families broken — fathers who do not father, a birthrate shriveling into impotence?   A nation’s murder of millions of its own innocents?  Borders left open against the creeping Reconquista?  Yes — but even more than these; even more than the advance of state piracy, even more than the soullessness of Americanized Christianity, even more than teachers who do not teach virtue, and pastors who do not preach Law, we have another declaration of surrender far more blatant, yet like the others still implicit.  Though acts are the expressions of thoughts, and none of the above “circumstances” can be said to be circumstantial, but all very meaningfully enacted according to very specific and suicidal doctrines, there stands declaration above all these: that Americans, no longer capable of even calling themselves Americans — or as it can be proven later, any nation whatsoever — have forfeited their grip upon reality, and thus beg replacement by any invaders with any sense of cohesion and at least a hint of spirit.

That statement, as the title heralds, is the Boston interfaith vigil. (more…)

The future of the Republican party — this is what they say of you, dear Hispanics; but a future for better or for worse has yet to be seen. (more…)

Supposing evolution were actually true, and that the first pile of primordial soup, ignited by a lightning bolt or some other energetic source, were to suddenly result in life, the first question we should ask should concern the boundary of choice. (more…)

Whatever comes, whatever perils, whatever trials, whatever parties rise to power, I love my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ because He first loved me.  In times like these, when all the world seems to fall apart, when the wicked advance and my soul becomes burdened, I’m reminded that our hope — our everlasting Hope — lies beyond what we can see, that His hand guides the course of history, and that “all things work for the good of those who love Him, and are called according to His purpose.”  God is sovereign, there is no authority without His personal permission, and there is a Christian destiny, an eternal Kingdom.  Keep strong, my readers; look away from the earth, and keep your eyes upon  Christ.

One of the most memorable quotes from my youth is a line from Tyler Durden.  Leaning against a decaying building, addressing a few cultists engaged in heavy labor, his voice blaring in monotony through a megaphone, he spoke: “You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.”  At the time, the quote seemed bizarre and almost comically subversive, as I was immersed in the self-esteem saturated period of the century’s dawn.  But having spent a good amount of time as a humanist, the quote feels far more natural a fit for humanism than the feel-good rhetoric and “winner” mentality of the period.  For once the shock and dehumanization of Durden’s statement wears off, the viewer is left with an entirely inconvenient question: supposing God doesn’t exist, if a man isn’t known by many (or any), how much value can he possibly have? (more…)

Rome, I have been told by a certain Titus Livius, was a city founded upon the principle of clemency.  Romulus, knowing well that his survival depended partially upon numbers, granted safe haven to any man, foreigner or Italian alike, in search of a new life.  The city being filled with men on the lam, it soon took on a reputation of its own: Rome was known as a place in which aspiring Mediterranean foreigners could forego social and legal encumbrances and, if they had particular nobility of character — or at least, an upwardly mobile one –, could thrive according to their own personal merits. (more…)

If one happens to be in the market for a cultural shock, he oftentimes needs only rent a movie from the 1940′s.  In my particular case, I had the pleasure of watching a Jimmy Stewart movie titled “The Shop Around the Corner,” a film excellent in every way, and unusually witty for a romantic comedy.  But what struck me most powerfully about the film was not so much the clever script, the perfectly selected cast, nor the believable romance, but rather a statement made by several characters about their employment.  They stated, in terms which make the modern man’s head spin, that they “wanted to be somebody,” when what they meant was, they wanted to be either clerks or store managers. (more…)

There are perhaps fewer topics more uncomfortably discussed in America than the topic of slavery.  This horrible institution birthed a class of men who, though passing into the hereafter long ago, have bequeathed their whiplash scars to generations ever since.  It has cemented in certain races feelings of tremendous and unnatural guilt, and in others an almost irrevocable grudge, building from within to without, essentially destroying the very framework of liberty in the names of reconciliation and revenge; seeking a justice for which the time has so long since past, that any attempts at such result in injustice toward peoples who did not commit the crimes, oftentimes in favor of many who seek to explain their own moral deficiencies.  It is a horrible historical abomination, and one which all noble men wish could be put behind them, the hurt of yesteryear giving way to today’s camaraderie, and Americans living under one flag, under one God, and as one human race. (more…)

There was a time before I was a Christian, only about eight years ago, when I met a young midwestern blonde in college.  I spent my time between classes trying to get her attention, eventually getting her number and being invited to multiple of her parties, ultimately failing, as I have been known to do, at being a smooth talker.  Her roommates seemed to like me, as I believe she did to some degree; but though I was at times charming and I made my intentions fairly clear, there was one thing which stood between us.  She was married, to a marine who was on tour. (more…)

A high profile sexual misconduct case is oftentimes tragic whether or not the accused is actually guilty, as recent episodes in the lives of Justin Bieber and Herman Cain plainly display.  But this article does not concern whether or not Justin Bieber or Herman Cain are guilty of sexual misconduct; there are plenty of other highly-skilled investigators who have already accomplished quite a bit in that regard.  Rather, this article intends to analyze the laws pertaining to sexual harassment, both social and state-enforced, the need for such laws, and why both kinds desperately require reform. (more…)

A short while ago, I encountered an unusually bizarre speech on a leftist site.  A cancer survivor, Jim Gilliam, detailing his physical and emotional struggles with cancer, explained how his very survival depended not only upon his determination, but upon a sea of knowing and unknowing participants in a sort of indescribable camaraderie. In fact, had his activist friends not intervened for him, causing such an uproar that a medical center felt obligated to give him a lung transplant, it is likely that he would be dead today. (more…)

I have to admit that I’m a bit jaded when media-circus disasters show their obnoxious faces.  Perhaps it’s because I don’t understand the full reality of the disasters, perhaps it’s because nobody I personally know has been affected, and perhaps it’s because we seem to have a new disaster every year, but any way you look at it I’m not the kind of guy who holds a candle-light vigil every time a tsunami comes around.  Frankly, these situations feel so far away, the people seem so foreign, and I have my own life to worry about.

Part of the reason I felt this way was due to Hurricane Katrina’s aftermath: I’d donated my hard-earned money to the Red Cross because I felt it was the right thing to do, only to be disgusted later with the media-ignored tales from people who were actually there.  I couldn’t help but feel my stomach turn into knots when listening to witnesses describe the ghettoest of the ghetto inhabitants shooting at their rescuers, trying to loot their boats.  The coast guard eventually had to tell do-gooders not to try and rescue anyone, because the heroes were being attacked.  I heard about murders, I heard about rioting and looting, and I sat back and wondered whether my money had supported a rapist, or a mugger.  I wondered how many people’s homes were broken into and their families tied up while armed burglars rummaged through their possessions.  Suddenly, I felt like what I had done out of kindness had been turned into something vile, and I was determined never to send money into a Black ghetto disaster for the rest of my life. (more…)