I was born in a typical American small town, the son of a man whose childhood was spent in near-poverty, and whose entrepreneurial efforts lifted him into the great American middle class right about the time I entered grade school. My father was an atheist libertarian who despised liberals, especially when they tried to tax and regulate him halfway out of existence. For several years he plunged into conservative Republican politics. In elementary school, I buttonholed my fellow second-graders, and formed a “Nixon gang” that held hands and swept the schoolyard, in head-to-head confrontations with rival “Kennedy gangs.” I couldn’t stay awake election night, and I still remember the exquisite pain I felt when my mother woke me, and told me Nixon had lost. That pain was easily surpassed four years later when Sen. Barry Goldwater, my childhood hero, was overwhelmed by Lyndon Johnson in the 1964 presidential election. I became obsessed with the idea of a conservative president. Ronald Reagan became my new conservative icon in 1968. I followed his career closely, praying for him religiously every day for eight consecutive years, and for four years after that daily praying and weekly fasting for him, until he was elected president in 1980. Election night was the happiest day of my life, still unsurpassed. He is still my hero. When he died a national hero, and it took the nation an week to bury him, I realized I was not alone in my admiration and affection for that wonderful man.

It took me several years to realize that God never meant politics to be a religion. In fact, politics came to be almost an idol, and very nearly an addiction. While I was attending a large state university, a political friend simultaneously introduced me to intellectual conservatism, intellectual Christianity, and the charismatic movement. Through the readings of C.S. Lewis and Francis Shaeffer, not to mention William F. Buckley, I gradually learned that the political order is not, and can not be, the summum bonum of the Christian’s existence.

My Christianity took root during my college years, the years of pot, acid, rebellion, and George McGovern. As all around me barbarians camped on my campus, and as I saw tear-gas wielding National Guardsman deployed against the hippies (I ardently pulled for the cops), I realized what a fragile thing civilization really is. I also realized that the culturally-compromised, institution-based conservative church was helpless against the forces arrayed against it. I was haunted with the fear that Christianity was going to go down, because I was embarrassed and ashamed of those who publicly represented it (as I am today). In my mind I linked Christianity and civilization, and I was not certain either was going to survive.

Another thing that I developed during my university years was a passion for Christian community, Christian koinonia. I lived in Christian community, hunkered down against New Left barbarians. We had some of the counterculture come to Christ, and long-haired Jesus freaks became frequent participants in our meetings.

So, into my adulthood I have carried abiding influences from the contradictory intellectual forces of my youth. In economics, I am proudly libertarian. I believe in the middle class, and I despise those politicians who claim they care about the middle class, and then proceed to tax them to death. I find it especially distasteful when the politicians do it in the name of “compassion” and “humanity.” I have actually read Ludwig von Mises’ Human Action cover to cover (however, I make no claim to actually understanding it!)

My college experience in Christian koinonia tempered my libertarianism. Libertarianism’s nineteenth-century liberal roots ignored tradition, ignored all sorts of human community, and treated humans as self-acquisitive, singular atoms floating about it space. I find this quite hard to reconcile with Christianity as revealed in Scripture. Nineteenth-century liberals, despite their wonderful contributions to economic progress and world peace, were too optimistic about human nature. They didn’t live in a world with Barack Obama, Nancy Pelosi, and Hilary Clinton.

My college experience as a radical, countercultural Christian also made me realize that the Reader’s Digest, Norman Vincent Peale, sit-in-a-pew-and-sing-hymns-while-the-world-burns-down-outside denominational, institutional, conservative fundamentalist and evangelical Christianity was culturally and spiritually impotent. My adult views on that remain unchanged.

My post-college years have been characterized by two major disappointments. The first is that the Reagan Revolution failed. I’m still glad for the years of booming prosperity during which I raised my family, which would not have been possible without those courageous Reagan tax cuts opposed by liberal Democrats and pussy-wuss Republicans. Reagan also had the guts to stare down and defeat the Soviet Evil Empire. For that I will be eternally grateful. But, a quarter-century later, the government is bigger, the deficits are larger, sodomite “marriage”is established as the law of the land, and babies made in the image of God are still being sliced up in abortion mills.

The second major disappointment I have experienced is that evangelical Christians did not unanimously pitch in to help destroy the anti-Christian leftism that is bleaching the very life out of America. I still find it amazing that a majority (probably) of American evangelicals are functionally, if not theologically, feminists.

I  don’t think I will ever live in a perfect world, but if I did, my world would not be encumbered by the presence of leftists of any kind. Especially not evangelical leftists. And so, as a small voice of protest, I’m writing this blog.

2 Responses to “Bio”

  1. Super blog

  2. awful awful blog by an awful person. OH GOD FEMINISTS.

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