Culture

The Cross Disintegrates

by

I’ve been wondering about how people will regard Christianity in America in the future. This is for obvious reasons (the religious right, hypocrisy) and the personal (I love to speculate). Truth be told, I don’t see it being anything good.

First, it’s really obvious that the Religious Right et al has made Christianity synonymous with “Bigoted, sexist, homophobic, reality-denying wealth-worshiping asshole who’s a total hypocrite.” Yes, plenty of American “Christians” violate their own religious tenets which is obvious as hell when you have even a passing understanding of the teachings of Jesus. They also do not care that they are hypocrites and have no spiritual curiosity, if they ever had any. Honestly it’s kind of a joke how Christianity has gotten branded.

Secondly, the media has run with this because the Religious Right is loud. They have money, they are publicity hounds, and they are of course politically active – and useful. The Religious Right has been happy to get involved in everyone else’s damn life, and of course the media amplifies that. Plus the American media loves to both-sides things even when people are ranting or opportunist.

Third, the Religious Right is and will be defined by horrible things. Climate denial. Cruelty towards immigrants (despite a lot of that being critiqued in the Bible). Racism. Selling out. People will be hurt by this, people will be hurt by them, and they seem to enjoy that.

Fourth, and sadly not addressed, I think that non-religious right Christianity hasn’t really fought back. Sure I see some truly good people, you can find all sorts of people doing good things. But I don’t see a fight for the soul of Christianity in America which you’d think would be really freaking necessary. There’s so many people being utter assholes in the name of Jesus, you’d think there’d be a willingness to battle.

But I just don’t see it. Some of it sure, but not enough that’s big, bold and in your face. Christians should be utterly pissed at the legacy of grifters like Robertson and Falweel and the like. They should be out there in people’s faces. Heck, maybe some kind of big public act of repentance and penance that would name names.

For whatever reason, the Religious Right has defined Christianity these days. I don’t see that going away, barring some kind of gigantic Great Awakening/Bonfire of the Vanities type activity. Which might happen, but I’m not holding my breath.

So the future of Christianity, in America, is that the Religious Right has pretty much won. They have the dominant description of Christianity. It’s a cruel, greedy, unstable, pile of hypocrisy glad to elect and worship any grifter that comes along. I don’t see it changing too.

What this means is that in future political and social changing, Christianity – even people who aren’t religious right – will be judged as if they are. People won’t be looking to be Christian if they’re not into the whole asshole paradigm That is if anyone is even looking for a specific religion.

I feel a strange . . . sadness to all of this? First, that there’s just so many assholes, of course. But I feel bad for the non-asshole Christians even if I’d wanted them to fight more. I supposed I’d have liked to see a transition to a broader spirituality, but it feels like part of it will be utter, life-ruining, life-endangering failure.

But I don’t see a future for American Christianity where “Christian” isn’t at least secondarily associated with “awful person.” Maybe there will be some kind of syncretic reformist movement, but that’s just maybe.

–Xenofact

Screaming Through The Cracks

by

I’ve previously speculated that some conspiracy theorists and spiritual grifters don’t so much have beliefs, but an internal narrative they’re trying to keep up. These people are constantly telling a story, and can’t really interact with people so much as constantly self-soothe by making their internal narrative external. I believe I’ve witnessed a case of someone transitioning to this stage.

Unfortunately, it’s Russell Brand. So this might get rough because he’s painful to deal with.

I had followed Brand with some interest because of his transition from weird actor to accused sex criminal to weird right-wing anti-science religious crank. There was something strange about the man, but the podcast/videocast On Brand helped me understand Brand better – though be warned, if you listen to On Brand, you’ll find Russel even more annoying in large doses.

They had been following Brand for some time, and analyzing him. This got into my sphere as it intersected with my interests in conspiracy theories, politics, religion, and medicine. Russell had been heading for crankdom for some time, but the accusations of committing sex crimes seems to have accelerated his decline – obviously crying “conspiracy” is a way to insulate himself.. Curious about what I might learn about him, I tuned in to On Brand, and faced the verbal firehose that is Brand.

Russell is a fast talker, what one wit once called his “Artful dodger” routine. He comes on fast, goes in loops, says the same things many times, asks and answers his own questions and keeps going. He also will talk to utterly objectionable people while still maintaining he’s all about Jesus, love, humanity, and so on – and of course he keeps going. There’s not a moment of self-relfection in there, and in fact it takes time to figure if he’s talking about anything.

(Often he isn’t).

But as I listened, while only occasionally regretting my choices, I could feel him trying to make leaps of logic to deal with his situation. Verbal diarrhea to try to not deal with what he’s talking about, throwing out questions as opposed to answers, and constantly not settling on any one thing. The man wasn’t just trying to do a narrative, it felt outright avoidant of reality or any form of solidity.

There was a painfulness to it, not just cringe, but it felt like part of him knew he was full of bullshit. Brand wasn’t to the stage where he was entirely lost in his narrative, he knew down deep he was bullshitting, or at least wasn’t good enough to cover up the fact he was. Somewhere in there was a person that knew he was full of it.

It was unsettling. Brand’s an objectionable person, probably outright sex criminal (if not yet tried), and is probably going to end up founding a cult before things degenerate. But he didn’t have the decades some would-be gurus had, didn’t quite have his story as smooth, and you could tell. There was a bit of cringe, a bit of fear, just enough that you knew he knew what he was.

An actor that knew he was acting while ignoring his own acts.

In time, I’m sure he’ll be lost in his narrative. But for now I could look at the man, listen to him, and see someone in transition to that constant narrative, that endless self-soothing. Much as my first experience with Knowledge Fight helped me see self-soothing behavior in conspiracy figures, On Brand helped me see the transition.

I saw an awful person who still had bits of humanity in the cracks, as he worked to seal them away. I see people like him and how they work to be awful, and see how much work goes into becoming such monstrous, devouring, living narratives. It’s uglier than I would have thought.

  • Xenofact

Saints Not Gods

by

We all hear people accused of “treating people like gods,” from politicians to tech entrepreneurs to actors. We may make such accusations, and might even be the targets of such criticisms. It’s something that got me thinking recently, noting the worshipful way people approached individuals over the years.

However, when I think about it when we say people are “treating others as gods” we’re actually not saying what we think we’re saying.

Consider when people approach another human being, from a podcaster to a writer, in an almost religious way. They praise their talent and vision and knowledge and whatever, but they also treat them as infallible. Such worshipped people aren’t just talented or beautiful, but morally accurate and superior.

Know what? Doesn’t sound like they’re gods to me.

Even a passing acquaintance with any mythology reveals that your average set of deities isn’t perfect. They are powerful, they are beautiful, they are wise or talented in their sphere of action. However they’re not what we’d call perfect in a moral way, because they are beings of specific spheres and inclinations and powers. Indeed some of my favorite myths are of the peccadilloes of the gods, from Thoth’s wordiness to Hermes’ tricky plays to Lu-Dong Bin’s post-Immortality love affairs.

Gods may have something to say but they’re not perfect creatures in the moral sense in most cases. Maybe that’s what makes them so accessible, since neither are we. They’re relatable.

I think when people get strangely religious about other humans and attribute to them some great moral meaning, they’re being treated as saints. They’re being treated as some morally perfect being, unquestionable, the same way a saint is seen as some approved-by-a-superior-being creature. They are being treated as perfect.

Which let us be honest, is often hilarious because people find some of the biggest dinks to worship. Like the more messed up they are the harder the worshipers work to act like they’re some moral paragon.

So next time someone talks of another human being who is treated like a god, ask if they really mean saint. Because it seems too often that’s what people really mean.

-Xenofact