The RedMolly Picayune-Democrat

Goodbye, cruel Rainbow world

OK... so since two people asked to see my letter to Rainbow Resource Center telling them why I will no longer be a customer of theirs, I'm going to take that as a "post it, please." Especially since I can't seem to get it together long enough to write this truly amazing scintillating post on some recent good fantasy books that I read. I've been meaning to write this damn post forever and it's Just. Not. Happening.

So without further ado:

RedMolly, Queen of the Heathen Homeschoolers

[address redacted]

July 20, 2008

Bob and Linda Schneider
Rainbow Resource Center, Inc.
[address redacted]

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Schneider:

I have been a Rainbow Resource Center customer for three years, ever since our family began our homeschooling journey with our younger son. Your catalog has provided me with invaluable information and inspiration, and I have appreciated your company's broad selection, budget-friendly prices and (most of all) detailed product reviews. Since receiving the 2008-2009 catalog, I have already created a product “Wish List” totaling over $300 in potential orders.

However, during a more careful read-through of the catalog, I noticed your review for Institutes of Biblical Law by Rousas John Rushdoony (catalog page 683, product no. 003919). After reading this review several times and discussing it with fellow homeschoolers from a variety of faith backgrounds, I regret to inform you that I will no longer be doing business with your company and must request that you remove me from your mailing list.

This review, which describes Rushdoony's book as “a meaty discussion of many current issues with profound implications,” strikes me as disingenuous at best and possibly deceptive at worst. Nowhere in the review are Rushdoony's stated positions—such as his endorsement of the death penalty for adulterers or disobedient children, his description of democracy as “heresy” or his characterization of the civil rights movement as rooted in voodoo and “Negro” magic—discussed or even mentioned. Indeed, anyone reading this review with no previous knowledge of Rushdoony and his writings would have no idea of the meat of Rushdoony's primary thesis: that democracy is un-Christian and anti-Christian, and that true believers must work to replace existing forms of government with a theocracy rooted in the very most uncharitable and graceless interpretation possible of Old Testament law. Instead, the review contains neutral assertions such as “The next three chapters are devoted to the promises of the law and how the law was viewed in both the Old and New Testaments. Chapter 14 delves into the Church, and is somewhat different in that it is discussed in light of New Testament as well as Old Testament passages. The last chapter analyzes how biblical law has been reflected in Western society."

Please note that I am in no way condemning your decision to carry this book, though I might question its relevance to homeschooling. Rather, I question the wisdom—and possibly the motivation—of describing this book in such bland, inoffensive terms when the book itself is anything but bland or inoffensive. Even among the most conservative Evangelical groups, Rushdoony's ideas are hardly common currency. I believe that you have provided your customers with a less than honest assessment of a book whose proposals I think—as, I suspect, most homeschooling American families would—border upon treasonous.

If, at some point in the future, you should choose to revise your review of Institutes of Biblical Law and include a more thorough assessment of Rushdoony's statements, I will be delighted to begin shopping with Rainbow Resource Center once again.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read and consider my letter. I wish you and your family all the best.

Very truly yours,

Molly Newman

Too many words, huh? And now I'm going to get hits from creepy people Googling "Negro magic." Also, I should've probably included an e-mail address or a phone number or something. Alas. Which reminds me... I also wanted to write a post about the Alas Awards. Maybe some other time...

The end of the Rainbow

Didn't we go through this last year? (Yes. Yes, we did.)

Like the swallows returning to Capistrano, or the swifts returning to Chapman Elementary School... the arrival of the gi-freakin-gantic Rainbow Resource catalog each year heralds a change of season, a fresh opportunity to go completely overboard planning what we're going to do "next year," homeschooling-wise. (Isn't it odd how even homeschoolers get into the September-to-June academic year concept? In our case, I blame it on Village Home.)

Yesterday, the unlucky mailman stumbled up to our door with one thousand, three hundred seventy pages of pure homeschooling insanity. And I spent a while last night flipping through and seeing if there was anything I just had to add to our list of goodies for next year (right now, it mostly includes card games and art supplies, with the occasional smidge of math curriculum).

And in the overwhelmingly enormous "Bible" section that occupies 85 pages smack-dab in the middle of the catalog, I came upon this:

Institutes of Biblical Law

This is a heavy book, both in weight and in tone. Just shy of War and Peace in size, at 890 pages, author Rousas John Rushdoony* discusses the applicability of Old Testament biblical law to our world more than 3,000 years down the road from when the law was first given.

...Rushdoony covers dominion, theft, restitution and forgiveness.... He talks about big societal issues, like whether imprisonment is a biblical punishment, and whether state oversight of business practices is beneficial or harmful.

...[i]n discussing the fifth commandment, "Honor thy father and mother," we learn about various arguments by anti-family critics, claiming that the institution of the family did not come about by God's design, but from a patriarchal desire for personal power.

...This is a better book than I thought it would be. I expected a dry, academic disucssion of biblical law that only a theologian/attorney would love. Instead I found a meaty discussion of many current issues with profound implications. How we view biblical law does matter.

Exsqueeze me? Baking powder? "Big societal issues?" "Profound implications?" That might be a wee bit of an understatement.

This is the book, after all, in which Rushdoony wrote "[T]he heresy of democracy has since then worked havoc in church and state, and it has worked towards reducing society to anarchy... Christianity and democracy are inevitably enemies." It's also where he stated that "[Biblical] law is humane and also unsentimental. It recognizes that some people are by nature slaves and will always be so."

Oh, and this little gem:

Segregation or separation is thus a basic principle of Biblical law with respect to religion and morality. Every attempt to destroy this principle is an effort to reduce society to its lowest common denominator. Toleration is the excuse under which this levelling is undertaken, but the concept of toleration conceals a radical intolerance. In the name of toleration, the believer is asked to associate on a common level of total acceptance with the atheist, the pervert, the criminal, and the adherents of other religions as though no differences existed.

So what does Rushdoony think should be done with "the atheist, the pervert, the criminal," as well as those who engage in what he considers to be idolatry or blasphemy (Catholics... Mormons... Orthodox)? Or non-virgin wives, adulterers or kids who talk back to their parents? Death by stoning, of course. What else would constitute a right and proper fulfillment of biblical law?

Rushdoony's followers in the Reconstructionist movement (including the entirely terrifying Chalcedon Foundation), advocate the replacement of the U.S. Constitution with the first five books of the Old Testament, with their uniquely bigoted, misogynistic and bloodthirsty spin. They believe democracy to be inherently flawed and evil. They believe that "the Christian state should enforce Biblical civil law; and... that the responsibility of Christians is to exercise dominion in the earth for God's glory."

In short, they subscribe to beliefs that I consider un-American at least, and treasonous at worst. And for a flag-waving, mom-and-apple-pie, hooray-for-Christian-liberty company like Rainbow Resource to enthusiastically recommend a book like this one forces me to reconsider where I'm sending my (very) few, (very) hard-earned homeschooling curriculum dollars. They've gotten over $500 of my cash in the last three years, and I had a $370 wish list for this year. But no. I'm walking away.

(Maybe the reviewer didn't read the whole thing? Maybe he should have?)

So I'm having to do a bit of scrambling, since Rainbow was really the only place that carried everything I wanted to order for next year. (Not to mention that it was the cheapest by far.) But, y'know, I don't shop at Wal-Mart either. Us morally relativistic secular humanist types have got to maintain our inferior non-biblically based principles somehow, yes?

On the bright side, though: I really really wanted to use "The Elements: Ingredients of the Universe" for a chemistry resource this year. And wouldn't you know it, I couldn't find it anywhere except at Rainbow Resource, until one of the good folks on the Secular Homeschooling Yahoo! group pointed me to the author's Web site where I can order it direct, scary Dominionist theology not involved in any way.

*yes, I am fully aware that a grammatical snafu of this magnitude should've been reason enough for me to chuck the whole catalog out the window and go on my merry way

Fisher and the Friendly Atheist

As part of one of Fisher's classes at Village Home--Terry Purcell's excellent Explorers class--he was required to research a belief system or worldview and give a presentation to his class on what he learned. And though we tried to hook him up with an Asatru group so that he could indulge his fascination with Viking paganism, the meeting was not to be. So he interviewed our friend Ute about atheism instead, and came up with some really awesome results.

This is the third presentation Fisher's given this year. Actually, it's the second. The first time, at the end of Village Home's fall term, he froze up and stood there and twirled his hair and couldn't say anything. The second time, he worked with two others in a group (they talked about Boys' Day and Girls' Day in Japan) and actually managed to get a few words out of his mouth, though he still twirled his hair and then backed up randomly and cracked his head against a shelf.

This time, though, made up for his previous two less-than-stellar experiences. His presentation (which, yeah, I helped him type and encouraged him to keep on task, but didn't write--he did it himself) went beautifully smoothly. It was funny; he spoke clearly and loudly enough so that we could hear him at the back of the room; he even made eye contact with the audience and modulated his voice rather than droning along in a monotone. And there was absolutely no reading of the PowerPoint slides involved!

Ute was there for the presentation, and she's already blogged about it... thank you so much, Ute!

In case you're interested, here's the slides and accompanying text for his presentation. I wish I had some video of it to share.

He's looking forward to giving his presentation again this afternoon--Eryn wants to hear it.

Congratulations, Buzz!

When you're evil

A very fine song by Voltaire (no, not that Voltaire; this Voltaire), BTW. Listen to it if you like.

So this whole "evil" thing has been weighing on me rather more than the results of a dopey online quiz have any right to do. Especially because my "angelic" dearly-beloved keeps giving me weird sidelong glances and getting all huffy when I tease him about fantasizing about entertainment. (I mean, really... spending valuable daydreaming time thinking about Jonny Greenwood and Chan Marshall... with their clothes on? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, my friends?)

And naturally, one thought leads to another and then one finds oneself musing about the nature of evil and its varying definitions by varying interest groups, from the Genitally Obsessed to the Environmentally Conscious to the Wiccan Threefolders. Is sex evil? What about premarital sex? Homosexuality? Prostitution? Is it evil to drive a car? To buy an imported-from-China unnecessary but highly enjoyable electronic gizmo? To use birth control pills, knowing full well that traces of the hormones they contain are accumulating in waterways and possibly wreaking havoc on innocent previously-non-gender-confused fish*? Is it evil to go merrily about one's business, knowing full well that billions around the world (probably including many of one's own friends and relatives) are, according to a particular read of a particular set of beliefs, destined to roast forever in the pits of Hell? Heck, does evil even exist, or do bad things just happen?

For a cranky old heathen freethinker like myself, the idea of "evil" poses a special problem--it seems that evil is often identified as an external force, intrinsic to the the universe and opposed to an equally externalized "good." The Force and the Dark Side o' the Force; Ahura Mazda and Ahriman; Jehovah and Lucifer; Batman and the Joker; Meatwad and Shake.

But if one considers evil to be not a specific force, but rather a choice and its consequences, then Big Scary Evil immediately loses its power--both its fearsomeness and its lethal attractiveness. Evil doesn't need the trappings of the black-spired castle, the fab black cloak, the sinister laugh.

Evil is as banal as the sweet-faced old Hutu grandfather who points out his Tutsi neighbors to the mob; as omnipresent as the legions of basement-bound keyboard warriors spewing their anonymous hate onto the Internet; as local as the alienated teenager who sits in his bedroom and strokes his rifle's stock and waits.

Evil consists as much of omission as of commission. Evil sees suffering in the world and passes by on the other side.

Evil is charging rape victims for the forensic tests performed on their broken bodies.

Evil insists that Christians have a duty to slaughter babies if it is God's will but that if God were to order "a man to lie down with a man," he would be no longer good and no longer God.

Evil is swindling an elderly woman out of $1 million for home repairs you claimed she needed, cleaning out her savings and sending her into foreclosure.

Evil is killing an Amur tiger to grind its bones into powder that some misguided idiot will swallow in the hope of enlarging his tiny penis.

Evil is sending troops into battle so ill-equipped that they are forced to capture enemy weapons just to make sure there are enough guns to go around.

Evil is selfishness writ large. But selfishness writ small is just survival.

Evil does not consist of thoughts; it consists of thoughts carried out. You can think whatever insane psychotic shit you want, but once it crosses the brain-body barrier, you have gone from Just a Little Twisted to Seriously Messed Up. And if you can't keep your thoughts from turning into actions, you have problems above and beyond understanding the philosophical definition of evil and should probably check into some nice inpatient program somewhere.

Evil causes harm, and where there's no harm there is no foul. Where there is no choice but to cause some harm, evil fails to minimize the damage. When it comes time to pay the piper, evil shrugs and says "Don't look at me."

Evil is not cognate with "sin." There is a difference between evil and trashy, ill-considered or even self-destructive behavior. Lust? Gluttony? Sloth? Have at it, y'all... you know I'll be right there next to you partying like a snowboarder, or sitting there like a particularly recalcitrant bump on a log, or whatever the occasion calls for.

But, y'know, don't listen to me. I'm evil myself. Some quiz on the Internet said so.

*On a skeptical Science Fridayish note, it should probably be made clear that this "study" consisted of dumping vast amounts of estrogen into a "small lake in Canada" to see what happened to the fish and was not based on any observations made in nature. Also, before you succumb to the siren song of the concern-troll anti-contraception nutjobs who are certain to leap onto this particular hobbyhorse, please note that it's apparently not a big deal to retrofit sewage treatment plants to filter out estrogen.

**One more song for you on an evil theme: Reggie and the Full Effect's truly weird cover of Slayer's "Raining Blood."

In which I wax unpoetic about my favorite thing about America

So I got an e-mail from my favorite wacky local art-goodies store, Collage. And it announced that they are having a super! incredible! "shopping-mall-proportion!" sale in tandem with several other local indie stores. Awesome! Swell! Let me grab my wallet!

But wait a minute. When is this event scheduled?

On Superbowl Freakin' Sunday, that's when. Right. During. The game.

Hello, Collagians! Don't you know that that's like scheduling a big sale on CHRISTMAS? Just because I'm female, incorrigibly non-athletic and generally divorced from all things Middle American doesn't mean I don't like to settle down on the couch (well, bed... we have no TV in our living room) of a weekend and get my game on.

Yes! I love watching football. I love marveling over the sheer size of the linebackers, swooning over the high-school handsome quarterbacks (though my favorite QBs are all... well, rather less than handsome), deciphering the obscenities the coaches are barking into their headsets, imitating the bizarre end-zone antics of the receivers (flinging the ball into the play clock? srsly?), eating Cheesy Beer Squares (neither cheesy, nor beer, nor a square. Discuss.), having Jim explain to me the more arcane ins and outs of the official rules, flinging around the jargon like I know what I'm talking about (ask me about two-point conversions!), yelling "GO PACK GO!" at appropriate and inappropriate moments, yelling "TOUCHDOWN [WHOMEVER JIM'S ROOTING AGAINST]!" whenever possible, laughing at the dorky signs the fans hold up, commenting on the clever and less-so commercials...

...yeah, basically I like everything there is to the art of watching football on TV.

And it never fails to astonish me how people get all snootier-than-thou about their chosen hobby of not watching sports. "Oh. Football. You mean American football?" (sniff) "I don't know if that even really counts as a sport." Or just the cut-dead "I don't follow sports."

Well, la-dee-freakin'-da for you, Petunia Polopants. I'm so glad you're too refined, too special to see the fun in (boozily) yelling exhortations at a bunch of three-inch-tall players (yeah, we've got a little TV) who can't freakin' hear you anyway. Or too classy to want to waste your time in a sports bar with a bunch of other people (some of whom may even be wearing jerseys!) boozily yelling exhortations. But don't harsh my mellow, huh? I mean, I really couldn't care less if you want to spend your Sundays watching lacrosse or playing table tennis or crocheting afghans or sorting buttons or what have you.

But spending our weekends during the season wrapped up in football... especially during playoffs, for heaven's sake!... is as close as our family comes to anything resembling Religious Ritual. And you gotta respect my religion, man, and I gotta get all cranky and uptight if you don't accommodate me by scheduling your sales in such a way as to allow me to fulfill my religious obligations and still attend. 'Cause it's the American way.

(Go Pack Go!!!)

Slayer on a Sunday morning

Televangelist Benny Hinn mows down the faithful with his Holy Ghost machine gun.

That'll get your blood moving!

There's also a version of some of the same footage set to "Yakety Sax," the Benny Hill theme. Funnier, perhaps, but not as long or as carefully edited to match beats in the music with beatings on film.

Technorati Tags: Benny Hinn, Slayer

The Church of Listening to Radiohead

So via Pharyngula, I found out about this post at I Blame The Patriarchy, which stumps for an end to all sorts of ritual--religious, and, it seems, otherwise. Imagine there's no heaven/God/communion/baby dedication service where the kid won't freakin' quit crying. Hm.

I don't think I'm ready to go there. Yes, the last time I was in church was for my sister's wedding (and a lovely wedding it was!). No, I have no intention of sitting through a religious service any time soon. But theres still something about ritual--completely apart from any symbolic meaning--that's not only comforting, but gives me a sense of something bigger than myself, a transcendent communal feeling. It's not a spiritual manifestation... I think it's the combination of sensory overloads. The smell of incense... the sound of stately music echoing off arched rafters overhead... the shattered rainbow of half-light streaming through stained-glass windows. That's the part I like. I think it may be the part that got me into medievalism in the first place.

There must be others out there who like the general solemnity of High Church ritual without buying into the belief system behind it. If this describes you... I humbly present, for your consideration, the Church of Listening to Radiohead.

Picture the scene: a stone-walled, or perhaps timber-framed building, on a Sunday morning. (But not early in the morning. Early Sunday mornings are reserved for the entirely different secular ritual of reading the Times and drinking coffee.)  Rows of high-backed wooden pews (note: these pews are comfortable and have nice fuzzy cushions on them. Maybe they even rock back and forth like the chairs at the new movie theater.). Flickering candles clustered near the entrance and set into sconces lining the aisles. As you take your seat, the spiky-haired usher hands you your communion cup, filled with your choice of ancient-vines Zinfandel or frothy Guinness (or, for the less alcoholically inclined, some steaming dark-roasted Fair Trade coffee). Go ahead and drink it now if you like--you can get a refill later.

The celebrant ascends the platform at the front of the room. She welcomes you all very briefly, then presses a button on the lectern and goes down to take her seat somewhere among the congregation.

An expectant pause of a few seconds--then a warm electronic hum rises in the air, followed by Thom Yorke's plaintive reverb-laden cry: "Ev'rythiiiiiiiiiiiing... in its riiiiiiight plaaaaaace..." And another service at the Church of Listening to Radiohead has begun.

No sermon. No prayers. No tithing, no "small groups," no hymns, no moralizing, no guilt, no unified worldview to which you must adhere. Just you, the tasty beverage of your choice, and the chance to listen uninterrupted to Radiohead on a really bitchin' stereo system for an hour or so. And then afterwards, if you want, you can hang out and grab another beer with your fellow congregants and then maybe go on a mountain bike ride or out to lunch or something. Or you can just go home and get on with your Sunday.

(Why Radiohead? Because their music has a dense, layered sound suitable for amplification in an acoustically echo-ey environment, overlain by an omnipresent keyboard that reminds me of a church organ, typically set at a slow, deliberate tempo that lends itself to unconscious back-and-forth swaying like that of people in deep religious ecstasy. But without the religious part, and probably without the ecstasy part too. Radiohead's pretty damn depressing.)

And since this "church" involves no actual belief system, holding nothing sacred (hey! Radiohead's next album could suck and be totally unsuited to communal High Church listening. Probably won't happen, but it could.), we obviously can't call it the Church of Radiohead. The Church of Listening to Radiohead is a much more accurate name.

I look forward to applying for tax-exempt status and opening an umbrella organization for homeschoolers in Tennessee, where non-college graduates can't homeschool their kids except under the aegis of a church. More homeschooled kids should spend more time listening to Radiohead.

Technorati Tags: Radiohead, religion, church

The Varieties of Religious Experience

Brothers and sisters, I have seen the light... I have turned from my ignorant and wicked ways and become a member of this guy's church.

Our key tenets:

• Crescent moons are evil. (Really, you must scroll down and look at the pictures.)
• A man's we-wee [sic] retracts into his body during the crescent moon of October ("holloweeny") unless he engages in practices resulting in "seed loss."
• GE, inflatable churches, the Pope, Cheerios and Luna Bars are also evil.
• Sleep deprivation and unmedicated schizophrenia are valuable tools for creating a new translation of the Bible.

I know what this fellow says is true, because he has seen God (or was it Satan? he's a little unclear). Unfortunately, I cannot contact him and thank him for setting me on the path to eternal righteousness, since he has not had access to e-mail since January 2003.

Hallelujah and pass the potato salad!