How to explain the Benedict Option to your friends

You might not be able to explain the Benedict Option to all your friends because, let's face it, at heart understanding the Benedict Option requires a consciousness raised to that level which can grasp how a bear, a snake, a kangaroo, a fish, and a Buick are all the same thing. Those with their consciousness already raised to a high enough level immediately "get it" and intuitively grasp how all these things are the same: they're all something.

But this is hard for people of lesser intelligence to "get", so let me try to explain so that you, too, can understand the emperorograph that is the true Benedict Option rather than one of those mistaken or deliberately falsified representations enemies of the Benedict Option are likely to promulgate.

The Benedict Option is like a bear but it isn't a bear and, because it has fur, it's also like a kangaroo, but of course it isn't a kangaroo either, silly, and because, like a kangaroo, it has a flexible, sinuous tail it's also like a snake, but of course, and please stop being so obtuse here, because it has those things sticking out of the bigger middle part of it, it's very much like a fish as well, but of course as we know - right, it isn't a fish - but it is like a Buick because, like a bear, it's really big and heavy.

So, having raised our consciousness to this point, what do we all now understand about the Benedict Option? Right, the Benedict Option is something. Something. Not Nothing. Not the emptiness between the stars, which really isn't empty anyway, nor the rampant nihilism of doubting things that fall out of the hole in the front of my face, but something. Important. Something.

Okay, for those of you folks out there who might be slowly banging a cooking pot against the side of your head or whose education might amount to something different from four whole years of college plus a real journalism degree, let's go through the Benedict Option one more time. The Benedict Option is like a Buick. Why? Right, because it's big and heavy like a bear, which has openings on both ends, like fish, which has those things sticking out from that middle part like, what? Right, a kangaroo, which has a tail which reminds us of a snake.

Like I said, not everyone can "get it", and if you're now one of the ones who does, you can justifiably pat yourself on the back and stop worrying what that person down the hall really thinks about you or why that girl laughed at you that time. Because you get it, and that makes you special.

And don't let anyone tell you any differently or try to make you question your understanding of the Benedict Option as I've just explained it to you, because that's exactly how you can detect the corrosive effects of our nihilistic postmodern culture trying to insinuate itself into the very heart of your life: it tries to get you to doubt me and the importance and value of the Benedict Option as I've just explained it to you.

Now, slowly, patiently, go forth and explain this to your friends just as I have for you and put them on notice that soon there will be a book out, with pictures, explaining just what you heard here in exquisite 4-color separation detail. Preordering details as I get them.

Led Zeplophone

Tight.



Drummer is good. That snare is Bonham's snare.

These kids are officially immortalized by this.

If you need Rod Dreher to save you, are you really worth saving?

I've probably let it seep out that I'm not a big fan of whiners, particularly when it comes to Christianity and conservatism, both of which, it seems to me, should provoke us to more noble postures.

One expression of this that periodically irritates me is when I hear someone say that at the end of the day we can't be too hard on Rod Dreher - the archetype God studied when designing the weasel - because he stands up for us where we can't. Bullshit. Here's a prime example of just the opposite.

Today Dreher has a post up about a cop in Salt Lake City who found himself in some sort of trouble with his superiors for not marching in some sort of gay parade. Dreher's solution? Naturally, his Benedict Option - whatever that really is.

Coincidentally, or not so coincidentally,

This fall, a major university is planning a conference on the Benedict Option, as Christians and conservatives are considering the idea more seriously. I am planning a book about it, as a contribution to the public debate.

While the finer points of that LEO's obligations as an officer under orders remain unresolved, the main thing, the only thing, is that the officer chose to resign rather than fighting for his rights himself based on the abundance of rights and resources he already had available.

Dreher would encourage more to do the same, in the guise of a fatalistic vision of inevitable persecution, because it serves his personal bottom line.

One of Dreher's regular conservative commenters, Glaivester, comes to similar, if not quite as venally motivated, conclusions.

If you need a self-dealing weasel like Dreher to save you rather than standing up for yourself, what sort of Christianity or conservatism, exactly, do you represent that is really worth saving?

David Corn (huh-huh) get flushed

A friend in Pittsburgh, married now, related to me the story of how he received a phone call from another bachelor while viewing B&B on 7/15/1994. "Are you seeing this? Are you seeing this!?" his friend frenetically inquired. That was the Cornholio episode. It was pretty funny, I admit.

So people of a certain age might remember where they were when they first experienced Cornholio's "birth". I will remember where I was, driving through Fairview Park, Ohio on February 23, 2015, when I heard the complete dismantling of David Corn's credibility by Hugh Hewitt.



Hugh Hewitt irritates me on many occasions but he is a master at what he does. He is basically a photographer of sorts; he is really good at showing what is there. Once Corn gets flustered he is toast. Flustered, flummoxed, flushed.

Here's what being smug, lazy and just not very bright looks like

Rod Dreher on Terry Teachout on Bob Hope.

Dreher gets paid for as many hits which correct him as for those if he creates something of value, so the difference between his own farts and an opera are pretty much moot to him.Why not just phone it in as he does above?

By comparison, here's what being bright, acute, diligent and incisive looks like:

Steve Sailer on Terry Teachout on Bob Hope

Of course, being obtusely wrong has long been a mainstay of Dreher's schtick anyway. When you're paid in blog hits rather than the value of the content you produce, you say "Oranges are blue!", and dozens of college sophomores immediately fight for the chance to tell you, "Nuh unh!". Civilly, of course. So I guess except for comparisons like this, how would anyone really ever tell the difference?

Being profitably lazy and stupid for a living. Nice work if you can get it.

How Gators Can Save Your Life During Lent

A lot of people think we Catholics are complete idiots. And there are other people who know we are not, but like to go along with the crowd and pretend we are idiots, accentuating our idiocy as they do with our other faults. We are indeed painted as being so idiotic that we could easily starve to death if we thought we couldn't eat something we caught out in the swamp, for instance, because our imperious and hypocritical leaders might not let us.

Gee whiz. What would people who are still #Catholic do without @roddreher to tell them what reptiles they may eat during #lent . #SillyMe

— Ⓔⓢⓣ⋅Ⓠⓤⓞⓓ⋅Ⓔⓢⓣ (@estquodest) February 22, 2015

Not that he can let a drop of gator gumbo touch his goozlepipe as he informs us here.

As I've suggest several times, I agree with Casella; he sure talks and acts like he is still basically a Catholic. He's angry at the Church, he's obsessed with the Church, and he's obnoxious and condescending toward any Catholic not sucking up to him. Just like a lot of lapsed Catholics. The Orthodox who are repulsed by him aren't put off because he comes across like a Catholic but because he comes across like a Protestant minister.