After some years absence I am now returning to Mere Comments, at least in a small way.  I left primarily because while I was drawn to reading the responses to my postings, I found them frustrating and depressing.  For every reasonable and thoughtful response–whether in agreement, disagreement, or a mixture of both–there seemed to be one from someone who maliciously misread me, two that were off-subject, and three that followed one of the first two. (Well, perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration–but only a bit.)  Knowing at the beginning that encounters with the free-range nincompoop were par for this course, facing the naked reality made me complain to my wife with increasing frequency that I didn’t have to put up with this stuff, so I left MC blogging to hardier souls.

Now that I have ended my twenty year employment in the public library and my encounters are mostly with my family and people associated with the Fellowship of St. James, I can go weeks on end without having to deal with a nincompoop, which our society is breeding in ever-larger numbers.  It’s not that I miss them, but feel guilty that I’m probably not pulling my weight.  Besides that, there seem to be a number of philosophical fragments and concluding unscientific postscripts batting around in my head that can’t all go into Touchstone Quodlibets.

Most of these don’t appear to me as simple expressions of personal opinion, but digests, ruminations, of a spiritual and intellectual patrimony that I have an obligation to  pass on.  This, indeed, is one of the greatest advantages of the conservative–that he is called principally to conserve.  His task is essentially mimetic, to meditate upon and repeat in his own words what has already been said.  As such he dwells in a very rich land and enjoys the luxury of never having to make a fool of himself by coming up with something new.  As Mortimer Adler forcefully noted, in what is generally called the humanities we are not obliged to advance as though we were technologists.  Rather, we are called to participation in the Great Conversation, where the principal desideratum for both Jew and Greek is the acquisition and transmission of Wisdom.  So begins my Second Series.

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This may be the height of the glory days for the homosexuals who wish to invade the Boy Scouts, as well as for the organization that is welcoming them.  The Boy Scouts has now made itself into something in many ways like a liberal religious denomination that, dying, commends the taste of its own blood.  How many families even that in theory approve a very loose sexuality would send their daughters to sleepover outings where men with normal heterosexual appetites stayed in the tents with them at night?  Likewise, when smoke of all the ideological incense from the Boy Scouts holocaust those liberal families are presently inhaling with such righteous satisfaction clears away, how many of them will want to send their sons to what may or may not be a gay sexual initiation at a Boy Scout event?

I have a hard time believing that many who are professedly pro-gay really want queer sons, or would be at all happy with something their ideological commissars require they welcome.  This is because I firmly believe, and have seen much evidence, that many liberals actually love their children.  Few, despite what they confess about “welcoming,” are so far gone that they can be at heart benignly neutral about what nature continually confronts them with as the sexual perversion of a son, just as there are few who find meaningful religion in churches that now scorn the faith of their fathers as fundamentalism.  Both will die slowly for the same reason–severance, as a plant pulled from the soil–from their source of life, which among the Boy Scouts included a pledge to be morally straight.