Notes on the Times November 2004

Bush Nation?
By Prof. Erik S. Root

Dr. Tom Goes to Washignton
By Jane Grisham

The Future of the Democratic Party
By David J. Shaw

Tocqueville's Postmodernism
Carol Browning

The Forgotten Argument
By Michaela Willi

The Personal Problem of Evil
By Joshua Eller

Pure and Undefiled Religion: Why Bono Might be a Better Christian than You
By David Cooper

Insert Moral Here: A Brief Critique of Christian Fiction through Lens of Thomas Mallory's Morte Darthur
By Brianna Springer

A Review of Elliott Smith's Album From a Basement on a Hill
By Steven Rybicki


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Bush Nation?

Prof. Erik S. Root
The election is over and I suspect that most people are at once relieved and ebullient that it ended in a Bush victory. Many others are just happy it is over, period. Yet the campaign would not be complete without bringing to a close the spectacle we witnessed. Kerry was soundly defeated and the Republicans picked up seats in both houses. Overall, it was a great election for the Republicans and further solidified the creeping realignment that has been underway since 1994. The last time any Democrat candidate for presi­dent received 51 percent or more of the vote was 1964. Indeed, something important happened in this election, but in his own way Kerry contributed to the emerging Bush nation. In the closing weeks of the campaign, the Kern campaign engaged in two practical blunders.
The day after Superman succumbed to the mortal stab of the Grimm Reaper, John Edwards gave one of the most demagogic speeches in modern times: if Kerry and Edwards were in office, Christopher Reeves. Edwards divined, would have been able to walk again. The born again Kerry/Edwards campaign thus morphed into the Benny Hinn ticket. They prom­ised fantastic things in ways that challenged the most able mental gymnasts. Many Americans may believe in the scientific god, but most certainly know that such miracles are not just around the corner and ready for implementing. Aside from promises, Kerry/Edwards also tried to foist on America an October Surprise.
The New York Times wrote a "news" item explain­ing that somehow Bush was responsible for allowing explosives to be smuggled out of al Qaqaa. As Bill Kristol wrote in the Weekly Standard:
The allegations that nearly 400 tons of 'high explo­sives' were missing from the al Qaqaa arms dump are based on charges leveled by Mohamed al Baradei, chairman of the International Atomic Energy Agency. The claims are old and increasingly suspect. But that hasn't kept John Kerry's presidential campaign from using the story in a new television ad and in virtually every- stump speech and media appearance over the past two days.
Kerry was so desperate, seeing the election slipping from him, that he engaged in a grand lie. Kerry con­tinued to run his ad even though NBC did yeoman's work in criticizing the NYT story—they had an embedded reporter with the troops as they approached and inspected al Qaqaa. In essence, the material was not "smuggled" out of al Qaqaa after the invasion, but most likely disappeared in the weeks before the inva­sion. Even Richard Holbrooke, a senior adviser to the Kerry campaign, admitted there was no hard evidence for the accusation: "You don't know the truth and I don't know the truth." Bush went on the offensive and publicly criticized Kerry: "a political candidate who jumps to conclusions without knowing the facts is not a person you want as your commander in chief."
The al Qaqaa debacle planted a crescendo on a cam­paign already in meltdown mode. In taking the side of al Baradei, Kerry was accepting the U.N.'s word over the word of the 101 st Airborne and the 3rd infantry di­vision. Kerry's position on al Qaqaa also exposed him to flip-flopping charge again. Remember, he claimed that WMDs did not exist. If the weapons that were "smuggled" out of al-Qaqaa did not represent a serious threat, why should we care; if they were a threat, then the war might just be justified on those grounds. The talented folks at Powerline were the first to notice the contradiction.
All these practical missteps aside, Bush's victory might be a triumph of what James Ceaser has called "neo-natural right." Ceaser wrote that:
President Bush has identified the Republican party with a distinct foreign policy, which he has justi­fied by recourse to certain fixed and universal prin­ciples—namely that 'liberty is the design of nature' and that 'freedom is the right and capacity of all mankind.' Not since Lincoln has the putative head of a Republican party so actively sought to ground the party in a politics of natural right.
With the Republican majority now fully entrenched, we might expect another twenty years of Republican rule, but does the party and the people who make up this nation, believe in the idea of America? Bush has attempted to revive our ancient faith, which is a time­less idea, and he has stated it in such a way as to re­quire something of all of her citizens. In the process. Bush just may have refashioned the GOP.
Perhaps nothing captures Bush's understanding of America more than his July 2003 speech on Goree Island. Senegal. In that speech Bush reflected:
For 250 years the captives endured an assault on their culture and their dignity. The spirit of Africans in America did not break. Yet the spirit of their cap­tors was corrupted. Small men took on the powers and airs of tyrants and masters. Years of unpunished brutality and bullying and rape produced a dull­ness and hardness of conscience. Christian men and women became blind to the clearest commands of their faith, and added hypocrisy to injustice. A republic founded on equality for all became a prison for millions. And yet in the words of the African proverb, 'No fist is big enough to hide the sky.' All the generations of oppression under the laws of man could not crush the hope of freedom and defeat the purposes of God. In America, enslaved Africans learned the story of the Exodus from Egypt and set their own hearts on a promised land of freedom. Enslaved Africans discovered a suffering Savior and found he was more like themselves than their mas­ters. Enslaved Africans heard the ringing promises of the Declaration of Independence—and asked the self-evident question, 'Then why not me?1
And again.
These men and women, black and white, burned with a zeal for freedom, and they left behind a different and better nation. Their moral vision caused Ameri­cans to examine our hearts, to correct our Constitu­tion, and to teach our children the dignity and equal­ity of every person of even-' race. By a plan known only to Providence, the stolen sons and daughters of Africa helped to awaken the conscience of America. The very people traded into slavery helped to set America free."
And finally,
The evils of slavery were accepted and unchanged for centuries. Yet. eventually, the human heart would not abide them. There is a voice of conscience and hope in every man and woman that will not be silenced—what Martin Luther King called 'a certain kind of fire that no water could put out." That flame could not be extinguished at the Birmingham jail. . . . It was seen in the darkness here at Goree Island, where no chain could bind the soul. This untamed fire of justice continues to burn in the affairs of man, and it lights the way before us.
Bush did not just engage in a physical war. he pro­mulgated an ideological one as well. The argument against slavery emanates from the same idea that justi­fies fighting Islamofascism. In part. Bush's justifica­tion for the war both in Afghanistan and in Iraq are commiserates with the understanding that all men pos­sess natural rights. He contended as much before the United Nations on September 21. 2004. This nation was formed in order to secure those rights, and Safety and Happiness are the beginning and end—the alpha and omega—of politics. A nation (a president) that al­lows an attack without a response is a government that is not fulfilling its moral duty.
America is the first nation to be founded on the everlasting twin towers of liberty and equality. These convertible terms form the ground of legitimate gov­ernment. The Founders believed that all men have a divine spark for liberty sown into their constitutional make-up and Bush fondly reiterated that by contend­ing that men long for freedom. However, to prop­erly exercise this freedom, men need enlightenment. Certainly, Bush's statesmanship had the political effect of enlightening the American people to remember that timeless idea and hence act on behalf of freedom. The President's justification of the ill-named war on terror is, at least, a reaffirmation of the rights we all share. The election was in many ways a referendum on the w^ar, and when the people reflected on the American idea, they ushered Bush back into office. Ceaser ar­gues correctly that Bush held "there is a structure and order to human beings and their affairs, and standards that can be both known and used to guide political action." The war was no less a moral issue than same- sex marriage. Like the evil of slavery, Americans reasoned that the evil—ever inventive—of Islamofas-cism does not, and will not, stop at the water's edge. Was this a difficult decision? Surely. It is never a joy­ous decision to commit lives in order to secure liberty. Yet, to do nothing would be unjust.
The High Commissioner of the blogosphere, lawyer, professor, and afternoon drive talk show host, Hugh Hewitt, believes that this election ended the ideologi­cal grip, stemming from the 60s, on American politics. No more can the left effectively run against America for she is indeed a force of good in the world. She is not the vile country that the left successfully portrayed her as in Vietnam years. Gone are the days when left was able to find an audience to "blame America first." Even the far left editor of Dissent Magazine. Michael Walzer. criticized his own for their unpolitical politics.
Christopher Hitchens also delighted in the ideological defeat of his former comrades. Why? Because the left does not even pretend to believe in human, much less natural, rights. They stand at once for everything and nothing. The left's attack on the American ideal is politically dead. May they rest (forever) in peace.
Bush's statesmanship has dealt the left a serious, if not fatal, blow. However, the future of freedom is not assured. While Bush believes in the power of liberty, in a speech before the National Endowment of De­mocracy he warned that ''the success of freedom is not determined by some dialectic of history." Do Ameri­cans believe in the concept of liberty as expressed in the hallowed Declaration? Will they keep, and draw nearer to, our ancient faith? The next few elections will determine just how persuasive Bush was in rees­tablishing the GOP on Lincolnian grounds.

Dr. Tom Goes to Washington

By Jane Grisham
Imagine a right-wing conservative who was able to work closely with Democrats and write thirteen pieces of legislation that were signed into law by President Clinton. Imagine a Christian that fellow-shipped weekly with four other congressmen, two of whom were Democrats. Imagine a man that lived on C Street with a few elected officials and flew home even.- weekend to his wife, kids, and medical practice. This man is Thomas Alien Coburn, M.D., a leading conservative of our time.
He is a native of Oklahoma, a former businessman who sold his family's company to Revlon and then went to medical school. You will find this elected official either at church, mowing his lawn, or at the local barbeque dinner, "My Place." He is the modern citizen legislator and friend of our Founders.
I had the distinct honor of working on his campaign. I functioned as his only fundraiser until about a month ago when we incorporated Karma Robinson, a profes­sional fundraiser, to work in Oklahoma City while I maintained the fundraising in Tulsa and the eastern Oklahoma. Not only did I work for the man but I went
to church with him and participated in a Bible study he taught at his home on Sunday nights.
Why was Dr. Tom able to enter the Republican Primary in March, race against two other formidable opponents, win the nomination, and then go on to beat a popular Democrat from his old district? Some may say it is because he kept his word in 2001 when he honored his term limit pledge. Others may say it was because he, an obstetrician, delivered 1/1000 of the electorate and treated many others.
I think Dr. Tom's victory can be attributed to three things that are all very peculiar in modern politics. The first was a gracious, un-offensive, and undeniable reliance on Jesus Christ, the second was an emphasis on town halls, and the third was the quality of his staff.
From day one until its conclusion. Dr. Coburn's campaign was founded on prayer, honoring God's standards and remembering His promises. Each week the staff and Dr. Tom (when in town) spent at least 20 minutes in corporate prayer. Toward the end of the campaign we had nights of prayer and nights of praise. Around 9:00 each evening we had mandatory prayer conference calls that would last from ten minutes to forty-five minutes. We read the Bible to each other and Dr. Coburn would send out mini-sermons by the Spirit's leading. We had a rock named "Ebenezer" to remind us of God's faithfulness to us. Dr. Tom would pray before meals at all fundraisers, regardless of the audience and, only when asked, would speak briefly of his saving relationship with Jesus Christ.
Our most effective campaign technique was the use of town halls. About a week before Dr. Tom visited a town we would advertise in the local paper, notify the political organizations, and put flyers up around town inviting everyone to a public location to listen to a brief speech and have an opportunity to ask questions. The town halls were very effective—they attracted people from both political parties and gave Dr. Tom an opportunity to speak from his heart about where he saw America going and what he planned to do about it. Town hall attendees would quickly receive Dr. Tom
and on occasion our opponent's spies would change allegiance and become Coburn volunteers. This was the single most effective way we were able to build a strong grass roots organization. Those that met Dr. Tom became energized, educated, and ready to elect someone that they could identify with.
Dr. Tom's third strongest asset was his staff. It was a HUGE honor to work with people whose commit­ment to conservatism, the Constitution, and to term limits surpassed those of any I've ever met. Dr. Tom's staff was characterized by honesty and hard-work that can only come from people who are inspired and fully committed to a united cause.
Washington is already in an uproar over the coun­try doctors" return to office. Career politicians who have become mesmerized by power and forsaken their goals should watch out for Dr. Tom because in his mind there is no better day that today to start making changes in Washington.

The Future of the Democratic Party

By David J. Shaw
Election Day, Tuesday, November 2, 2004, was a disappointing day for Democrats. John Kerry lost; so did Tom Daschle. George W. Bush won a ma­jority of the popular vote. The Democrats have now been the minority party in the House for a decade. After the Republican gains in the House, Democrats look to remain in the minority for years to come. The Republicans also made gains in the Senate, picking up a net total of four Democratic seats. Yet, in all this, there was one bright spot for Democrats. In the race for the open Senate seat in Illinois, Democrat Barack Obama trounced Republican Alan Keyes by a margin of 70 percent of the vote to 27. Democrats, not unrea­sonably, see Obama's election as a harbinger of things to come.
Meet the future of the Democratic Party. Barack Obama is, perhaps, the perfect candidate. Tall and handsome, he possesses a deep voice that resonates well on television and radio and he moves with a youthful earnestness. After spending eight years in
the Illinois state senate, his colleagues praise him as effective. And in the corrupt world of Illinois politics, where the former governor is under federal indictment and two of Obama's opponents in the Senate race were effectively forced out of it because of scandals stem­ming from unsealed divorce records, no one has even alleged anything corrupt or sordid against Obama. Winsome and charismatic, Obama has qualities remi­niscent of Ronald Reagan. You may not agree with him, but you will be hard pressed not to like him. His persona is warm and sincere. He seems to connect with people and, while coming across as passionate, he does so with good humor and doesn't take himself too seriously. When introducing himself he jokes that his name rhymes with "yo mama."
A graduate of Columbia University and Harvard Law School, as well as a professor at the University of Chicago, Obama is smart and articulate. He more than held his own in debates against Alan Keyes. the Re­publican candidate, and delivered the keynote address at the Democratic National Convention. Obama's intelligence isn't limited to law and theoretical knowl­edge; he is politically shrewd. Confident of victory in Illinois, Obama spent the summer and part of the fall raising money and campaigning for other Democratic candidates around the country. He enters the United States Senate with a host of favors to call in whenever he needs them.
What makes Obama most unique, though, is his ability to transcend racial politics. Barack Obama is the son of a black father and a white mother. He is embraced by the African American community, but unlike a Jesse Jackson or an Al Sharpton, he isn't limited by it. In a city as racially charged as Chicago, Obama was able to win the votes of poor African Americans, rich white liberals, moderate white sub­urbanites, and blue collar white ethnics. To echo the Economist, Obama is a "post-racial" candidate. The Illinois Republicans' decision to bring in Alan Keyes, who is also black, to run against Obama only served to highlight this fact. Undoubtedly, some of Obama's success so far was
serendipitous. Shortly before the Democratic primary in March, unsealed divorce records revealed that Blair Hull, a former investment banker who had spent close to $30 million on his Senate bid, had hit his wife. During the general election, Republican candidate Jack Ryan withdrew from the race after embarrassing allegations made against him by his former wife came to light, also from unsealed divorce records. Obama's biggest break came when the Illinois GOP decided to bring in Alan Keyes from Maryland to replace Jack Ryan. Alan Keyes is a smart man, but he tends to say unwise things. Take, for instance, his suggestion that Jesus wouldn't vote for Obama. Quotable and pithy, to be sure, but it was an utterly ridiculous and inappro­priate thing to say in the context of a Senate race.Good luck—which is to say unsealed divorce re­cords and discussions of Jesus' voting preferences— aside, Obama seized the opportunities afforded him and maximized them. Machiavelli noted that Fortune is a woman and that she prefers those who handle her forcefully. Barack Obama has proved forceful so far.

Tocqueville's Postmodernism

By Carol Browning
Equality is not a common word in contemporary society. There are equal-opportunity employers and equal-housing lenders and such, but as an ideal itself, equality is not often preached. Its place has been taken by such other virtues as freedom, diversity, and non-partisanship. When Alexis de Tocqueville, in the wake of European revolutions, wrote Democracy in America, he said as much about American equality as democracy. What, then, has happened to equality in the intervening decades?
It is undeniable that, at least politically, Americans are far more equal today than they were in the early 1800s. Though it has taken almost two centuries since its founding for America to finally rid itself of officially-sanctioned racism and sexism, it has been a steady development throughout her history. There are still quibbles over affirmative action and gender gaps, but it is obvious that equality has not ever had a surer hold on a people than in America of the twenty-first century.
Yet our society is again in the midst of major cultural change. The last century brought Western culture to the tragic but logical conclusion of rationalist moder­nity, and in response to this, the postmodern phenom­enon has risen in its place. With it have come new ideas on government, society, and equality.
Equality in twenty-first century America is moving beyond modernism. Having largely achieved personal and political equality for every citizen, the cultural mood is moving towards egalitarianism on a deeper, more philosophical level. For 200 years, it could be honestly said of America that here '"the precepts of Descartes are least studied and best followed" (De­mocracy in America, 403). While that statement described a historical America, it is not a sufficient description of the America that is coming to be.
Disillusioned with the rationalistic search for ul­timate truth that pervaded the modernist mindset, postmoderns are not concerned with finding a single, unifying ideal or any kind of sure method for perfect­ing society. Thus, it does not fluster them in the least to hold to a relativistic sort of equality—philosophi-
cal egalitarianism rather than a political one. They gain this equality by decreeing that all beliefs, values, viewpoints and opinions are specific to one's immedi­ate community, and all are equally valid. If there is no single unifying Truth, then all standards are equally true. This is the equality meant when spoken of with other words, like "diversity" and "tolerance." This is the equality of our generation.
Were Tocqueville to turn his perceptive eye upon our current cultural situation, I believe he would have treated the matter the same way he treated the philo­sophical and cultural changes of his own turbulent day. The democratic revolutions were certain and necessary historical developments—larger and more violent, to be sure, than most bends in history's course, but inevi­table nonetheless. Tocqueville saw the uselessness, on one hand, of condemning and eschewing the uncom­fortable changes in society, and the folly on the other of recklessly abandoning oneself to the enthusiastic bandwagon of revolution. In other words, he sympa­thized with the old order, but wisely sought to give sober attention to the new one that was taking over his world. This, I believe, would be his attitude were he to evaluate contemporary American society.
Postmodernism is bringing a different flavor of equality to our society, but Tocqueville would not see this as reason to expend effort to stop the change. Rather than crying over the death of modernity, he would instead make an effort to discover the character­istics of postmodern ideals, analyze them, and respond with encouragements for their benefits and warnings against potential pitfalls. This is the general principle held throughout Democracy in America. With regard to postmodernism in particular, however, I believe the argument can be taken further.
In a certain sense, Tocqueville can himself be seen as an early herald of postmodernism. In warning of the dangers of unchecked equality and individual­ism, he was also critiquing the overall philosophy of modernistic rationalism. The democratic revolu­tions—including the founding of America—were the children of modernitv. whether the modernity of the Enlightenment or of the Reformation. Thus in warn­ing against the pitfalls of equality, he was likewise showing his misgivings against modernity as a whole. As far as postmodernism exists as a reaction against and corrective to the errors of modernity, Tocqueville was postmodern, for he saw the same problems. This is evidenced in the solutions he offers as preventives against an overly egalitarian regime. Notice that his great hope for America lay not in her meticulously and rationally planned government, nor in her equal­ity of conditions, nor in her democratic birth. He saw private social institutions as the safeguard of American society - a communal, non-rational solution to the ex­cesses of alienating, reason-based egalitarianism (DA II 2.4-5). It is safe to say that of all the characteristics of postmodernism, Tocqueville would probably find himself most pleased with its affinity for community. That is not to say that Tocqueville would be happy with the overall state of equality in postmodern Ameri­ca. When reality is reduced to opinion, and equality of
viewpoint no longer refers to the freedom of a person to hold any view, but rather to the equal epistemo-logical legitimacy of any view, then all excuse for passionate belief is eroded. Yet Tocqueville foresaw this too, as he aptly describes equality's last men: "... a herd of timid and industrious animals of which the government is the shepherd" (DA 663). This passage is rightly famous, for it shows us ourselves with sharp familiarity.
Equality is a word that changes in meaning as it changes historical eras. An attempt at quantitative comparison of this ideal in different eras cannot escape the fact that "equality" signifies something radically different to a twenty-first century postmodern than it did to an eighteenth century revolutionary. Yet, as Tocqueville showed, there is hope to be found in any generation—it is not discovered in the past, though history may guide, but rather in sober guidance of the future.

The Forgotten Argument

By Michaela Willi
This past week, the American population was divided into two camps: Republicans and Demo­crats. We commonly define our ideas by such oppo-sites: liberal v. conservative, theist v. atheist, Christian v. Muslim, Protestant v. Catholic, idealist v. pragma-tist, modernist v. relativist. Two opposing systems of thought that have largely fallen out of usage are real­ism and nominalism.
Realism is a belief in universals. Realists see the es­sence of an object as part of a larger, abstract category. A squirrel is not so much an individual creature as it a replication of the ideal of squirrelness. Thus there exists a universal squirrelness somewhere in the meta­physical reality. In the same way, men and women are essentially variations of the metaphysical prototype rather than individuals that resemble one another. Our differences are not our essence, but rather our similari­ties, which reflect the ideal of humanity.
Nominalism is a reaction against realism. Nominal-
ists deny that the essence of a creature is found in its genre. They deny that a specific person or squirrel is primarily defined by its humanity or squirrelness. Rather, the human mind notes similarities between unique individuals and categorizes them for the sake of convenience. Similarities allow us to put individu­als in categories but they are not the essence of the man.
Although the terms realist and nominalist originated in the Middle Ages, the philosophical systems that underlie them began in ancient philosophy. Realism, strangely enough, used to be known as idealism. We first read of this in Plato, when he posited the theory of Forms. For Plato, there is an ideal realm where the essence of all objects exists - an ideal chair, an ideal squirrel and, presumably, an ideal man.
Philosophers still debate the extent to which Aris­totle deviated from Plato. Aristotle's methods seem closer to nominalism, even if he did not intentionally begin a new school. His school, although originally termed "realist," focused on concrete evidence from which we can induce general principles, just as the nominalists believe we create categories by observing accidental similarities.
Plato's school was revived and radicalized in the third century A.D. by Plotinus and his followers. These neo-Platonists relied less on logic than did Plato and were much more mystical, often even consid­ered pantheistic. They believed that the Forms Plato described existed in reality. By taking Platonism a step beyond Plato, they furthered the distance between idealism and realism.
Plato's idealism became known as realism in the Middle Ages. Until the twelfth century, realism was the orthodox position of the Catholic Church. In the late eleventh century, the philosopher Roscelin was condemned as a heretic for his deviant position on universals. His position was propagated by his fa­mous student Peter Abelard. As a young man, Abelard challenged the Parisian archdeacon, William of Cham-peaux, causing William partially to retract his position on realism. Abelard put forth a form of soft nominal­ism he called "conceptualism," which asserted that, although universals do not exist apart from individu­als, they are necessary constructions to comprehend the world. William of Ockham, famous among logi­cians for formulating "Ockham's razor," was also a nominalist. Thomas Aquinas tried to reconcile the two positions, although he favored realism.
These abstract philosophical distinctions may not hold the fascination of "bottom-line" Americans because they do not appear to be practical or relevant. Such a view underestimates the importance of univer­sals, whose importance reaches beyond the merely se­mantic. Realism and nominalism were actually deci­sive historical catalysts. Meryick Carre, who wrote an excellent book on the debate, believes that Ockham's nominalism directly led to the birth of science and the Protestant Reformation whereas Augustine's realism prefigured Descartes and the Enlightenment. Carre claims that contemporary socialists who uphold ideals of the State are direct descendents of the realists while radical individualists are heirs of the nominalists.
Whether or not we accept Carre's grandiose evalua­tion of the historical importance of realism and nomi­nalism, he is certainly correct in asserting that these ancient philosophies fostered modern, influential ones. We can use the concept of universals as a new way to evaluate our own ideas. Is a chair a chair because we see the similarity between it and other things that are meant to be sat in or because it is essentially a chair? Is there really such a thing as ideal beauty or are concepts of attractiveness only social constructs? Is a mentally-impaired woman still more human than a smart ape that can perform more of the functions we associate with humanity? The realism versus nomi­nalism debate provides insight into questions ranging in importance from intellectual brainteasers to social ethics.

The Personal Problem of Evil

By Joshua Eller

Margaret, are you grieving Over
Goldengrove unleaving? Leaves, like the
things of man, you With your fresh thoughts
care for, can you? Ah! As the heart grows
older It will come to such sights colder By
and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds
of wanwood lea/meal lie; And yet you will
weep and know why. No matter, child, the
name: Sorrow s springs are all the same. Nor
mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What
heart heard of, ghost guessed: It is the blight
man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn
for. —Gerard Manley Hopkins

There is but one truly serious philosophical prob­lem, and that is suicide. —Albert Camus

The Encyclopedia of Philosophy defines the Prob­lem of Evil as "the contradiction, or apparent contradiction, between the reality of evil on the one, and religious beliefs in the goodness and power of God...on the other." This contradiction is essential a metaphysical issue that takes two forms - deductive and inductive. However, Ronald Nash offers a third categorization of evil viewed as a "personal or pastoral problem." While a well-informed Christian should be equipped with the knowledge and ability to refute the philosophical and theological arguments that utilize the problem of evil against God, it is the pain and iso­lation that individuals suffer—the effects of evil—that constitute evil as a problem. Because man cannot overcome evil, he is left with his consciousness that now tortures him with its understanding. In a funda­mental way, the problem of evil is now a problem of consciousness. In this I will attempt to redefine the problem of evil as man's consciousness or self-aware­ness and, in the light of this definition, to explain the Scriptural approach to dealing with both believers and non-believers about the problem of evil. Dr. Martha Nussbaum, a professor at Brown Uni-
versity, used Lucretius' epic poem. On the Nature of Things, to offer indirectly a definition of the problem of evil. Lucretius organized conscious beings into three distinct categories. The first category consists of the first humans who lacked the reflection to consider the frailty and mortality of life - they were undis­turbed by death. The second category consists of the Epicurean gods who "have reflection without vulner­ability" and thus live in eternal bliss. Caught between these extremes are modern men who are "the only beings both vulnerable and reflective, who go through life in the grip of fear of their own existence, straining to understand and also improve their condition through the reflective capacity that is also the source of much of their agony." Lucretius thought that human anxiety-stemmed from the vulnerable-fear of the god's wrath and offered a mechanistic explanation of the universe in order to dismiss the blind actions of foolish deities. His answer was to conquer the unknown by reason. Perfect reason would cast out all fear.
In modern times, Albert Camus reformulated the problem of evil when he said, "There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide." Camus also understands man's essential problem as his consciousness. This is most clearly asserted in his treatment of the ancient Greek myth of Sisyphus who convinced Pluto to temporarily release him from the underworld and the spent several years hiding from the gods. As punishment, he was eternally condemned to roll a large boulder up and down a long, steep hill forever. Camus comments, "If this myth is tragic, it is because [Sisyphus] is conscious. Where would his torture be...if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him? The workman of today works everyday in his life at the same tasks... [but] it is tragic only at the rare moments when it becomes conscious." Thus man's consciousness of his dilemma, and not the di­lemma itself, haunts him.Although written well over a century before Camus, Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther is a brilliant presentation of man's tragic situation. Werther, blind­ly ensnared by youthful passions and foolish hopes, is driven to suicide in an act of pure hatred of life and his fellow man. In the midst of his digression, he becomes acquainted with a local lunatic. Reflecting on the lunatic, he says of the man, " 'You were happy!' I exclaimed, 'as gay and contented as a man can be!' God of heaven! And is this the destiny of man? Is he only happy before he has acquired his reason, or after he has lost it?"
Significantly, the Bible's most extensive treatment of the problem of evil, the book of Job, also pres­ents the perspective that man's consciousness is his real problem. In the third chapter, when despair has finally overwhelmed Job, the reader is given a chilling glimpse of suffering. Forsaking all pretense, Job curs­es his own existence. "'May the day perish on which I was born. May that day be darkness; May God above not seek it, nor the light shine upon it. May darkness and the shadow of death claim it." What can the Chris­tian say to such despair? What is the answer that will heal the wound of sin?
First we must acknowledge that there is no "answer." The fall is not fixed with formulas or arguments. The problem of evil is separation from God and man. The answer, then, must be unity; the Biblical model for unity—for salvation—begins with communication. Indeed, God's image in man is distinguished by the type of communication God shares with man and the type that men share with one another. The mark of man qua man is linguistic in nature.
Walker Percy, inspired by the work of Charles Sander Peirce, simplified the anthropological hypoth­esis man is linguistically distinguished from non-man in his essay, "Is a Theory of Man Possible?" Percy classifies every event in the universe as either dyadic or tryadic. A dyadic event is "nothing more or less than the phenomena studied by the conventional sci­ences, whether the collision of subatomic particles...or the performance of a rat in learning to thread a maze." Triadic events are "man's transactions with symbols, of which...the prime example is his use of language." For humans, the first triadic event occurs when a child understands, for instance, that when his parent makes the sound "ball", the parent means that the sound "ball" means (i.e., signifies, refers to, etc.) the round object. It is the association of the sign with the object.
A triadic event between a person and a non-person occurs between two fundamentally dissimilar things. They share an "I-it" relationship. However, triadic events that occur between two humans are universally unique. Triadic interaction between people is more than a biological classification of the other but an af-
firmation of being, an interplay between equals. This "I-you or interpersonal relation is, accordingly, not merely a desirable state of affairs...but is rather the very condition of being and knowing and feeling in a human way." Understanding the importance of triadic communication is the key to understanding how God dealt with Job's suffering.
A surface reading of Job in light of the problem of evil, especially the tension between God's power and goodness, will seem lacking. God's entire confron­tation with Job is one long-winded assertion of His own unfathomable power and purpose which Job has no right to question. However, Eleanore Stump, a philosophy professor at Cornell University, suggests that the form of God's communication constitutes an entirely separate mode of communication and, in the end, shapes the actual content of the words.
Dr. Stump asserts that the second-person dialogue from God to Job serve to personalize God's message to Job. The exact content cannot be known by a third party, but its effect upon Job was unmistakable, caus­ing Job to instantly repent. Dr. Stump suggests that Job's complaint, which only questioned God's good­ness, was personal. Job's prior relationship with God was one of trust and obedience. "His protest against God in the dialogues thus at least includes a charge of betrayal of trust. But for this charge, a face-to-face en­counter can make all the difference." The significance of Job's story is three-fold. First, it clearly testifies that there is no answer for evil for the fallen human mind. Second, it shows that pain can be comforted. Third and most important, it shows that the method by which comfort is shared begins with a fundamental recognition of equality between humans. It redraws the lines by which Christians parse the world. More fundamental than the sinner-saved distinction is the unity of triadic beings - a unity that bridges all nation­alities and cultural barriers. This final point is also im­portant because it demands that Christians understand and share not only the content of God's communica­tion but also the form of that communication insofar as the form determines the content. Therefore, just as God shows His own dealings with Job. so ought Chris­tians deal with their fellow man.
While the problem of evil has no solution, there is hope for deliverance beyond the grave and hope for relief on this side. The core of the Biblical response is to imitate God and active care for our fellow man as equal beings before our almighty father.

Pure and Undefiled Religion: Why Bono may be a Better Christian than You

By David Cooper
Once in a while, a truly great musician comes along makes rock-and-roll history. Artists such as the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Elvis, Jim Morrison, and Bob Dylan have made their permanent mark in the American psyche, and in­deed in the musical consciousness of the world. After almost 25 years, U2 has earned their spot among the musical greats.
What makes U2 great is difficult to define. In the first place, they have achieved a longevity and rel­evance rarely enjoyed by rock bands. U2 has managed to craft a musical formula that has endured from the teenage punk sounds of Boy to the soulful melodies of All You Can 't Leave Behind. Their open faith and charitable works have given hope to millions. They have been described as the last great rock band, but if Bono has his way, they won't be going anywhere for a very long time.
Born Paul David Hewson in Dublin, Ireland, Bono is the lead singer of the rock group U2. As a teenager, Bono helped form the band in 1976 with three school­mates. Early on, the band had little musical talent. What they lacked in talent, however, they more than made up in enthusiasm. They soon grew into accom­plished musicians, destined to make their mark in music history.
In addition to the musical brilliance of the band, Bono has proven to be a quite effective political lob­byist. His work for the relief of third-world debt and AIDS in Africa has been the subject of much media attention. He was also an honored guest at the Repub­lican and Democratic conventions. Books have been written about the greatness of U2, but few discuss the faith and work of its leader. Before one can understand why Bono does what he does, one must first under­stand where he came from.
The Life of Bono
Paul Hewson's early years were unique. He was born to a protestant mother and a Roman Catholic
father, a mixed marriage rare in the strife-torn Dub­lin of the 1960s. Before his death, his father Bobby described young Paul as a "bloody exasperating" child but one who was also very curious. He was always extremely optimistic and enthusiastic, traits that would remain for the rest of his life.
When he was 15, Hewson's mother died of an an-eurysm while attending her own father's funeral. The pain of this loss can be seen in much of his music. It was at this time that Hewson became interested in mu­sic and took up the guitar, drinking up the sounds of emerging punk music. During this time, young Hew­son acquired his nickname, "Bono," from a hearing aid store called "Bono Vox." Somewhat prophetically, his friend Guggi, christened him with this Latin name meaning "good voice."
By the time Bono was 17, two more very important things had happened. He had met Alison Stewart, the woman who was to become his wife of over twenty years, and he had answered Larry Mullen Jr.'s adver­tisement on the school bulletin board to start a band. The result was U2.
The Faith of Bono
Dublin in the 1960s and 1970s was the scene of much religious violence and hatred. Bono saw evi­dence of this in his own family. It was his disgust with the sectarian conflict that drove him to the Shalom fellowship, a non-denominational charismatic home-church in Dublin.
It was at Shalom that three members of U2 would find Christ. Bono, Dave Evans, nicknamed "The Edge," and Larry became excited with their newfound faith, but it was Bono who lead the way. Bassist Adam Clayton would remain an agnostic. Bono was the first one interested in the Bible studies and fellowship meetings that would shape the faith of one of rock's most influential icons. It was at Shalom that Bono found the inspiration for his music, and ironically, it was his music that drove him from Shalom.
Many members of the Shalom fellowship began to condemn U2's music and their "involvement in the world." Bono, Edge, and Larry all struggled intensely between their passion for the Kingdom and their pas­sion for their music. In the end, they choose a synthe­sis of both. Music permeated by their faith. This was unacceptable to many in Shalom and the members of the band eventually left, turning their back forever on organized religion. Their spiritual nourishment would come now through informal fellowships: theological discussion with Christian friends, on-the road Bible studies and the like. Although Bono had turned his back to religion, he had embraced Christ with a re­newed fervor: "I have this hunger in me...every where I look; I see evidence of the Creator. But I don't see it as a religion, which has cut my people in two. I don't see Jesus Christ as being any part of a religion. Religion to me is almost what like when God leaves—and people devise a set of rules to fill the space." He later said "I often wonder if religion is the enemy of God. It's almost like religion is what happens when the Spirit has left the building."
Bono's reluctance to talk about his faith has sparked much criticism from the Christian community. How­ever, it is evident the critics have never listened to his words or his music—at least not with any depth. Bono has always made the reasons for his reticence very plain:
The problem is, when I [talk about religion], the way it turns out in the tabloid papers here and in England is, 'Bono Pontificates on the Holy Trinity.' And then we're off! But at the same time, I can't let them gag me. There are the uninformed, unfocused thoughts of a student of these things, not a master.
U2 has also always been uncomfortable with the desire by many to label them as a "Christian" band. American pop-evangelicalism was trying to sanitize pop culture for the consumption of their squeaky-clean teens. While U2 was excited about Christ and learning about His Word in the early days of their conversion, they were ignorant of what Christianity meant for most of the world. Their first experience with Ameri­can Christianity was revolting. Television evangelists and the like were largely unknown in their native Ireland. Bono said, "When I see these racketeers, these snake-oil salesmen on these right-wing television sta­tions, asking not for your $20 or your $50, but your
$100 in the name of Jesus Christ, I want to throw up."
It was this initial revulsion that caused U2 to react they way they did to their "Christian" label. Bono and the others have acknowledged that manner in which they dealt with the labeling unnecessarily alienated much of the Christian community. However, in their attempts to reconcile with Christians, they remain uncompromising. Bono's views on the purpose of his music are very clear. When discussing his faith and music he said, "I believe carrying moral baggage is very dangerous for an artist. If you have a duty, it's to be true and not cover up the cracks. I love hymns and gospel music, but the idea of turning your music into a tool for evangelism is missing the point. Music is the language of the Spirit anyway. Its first function is praise to creation." But Bono's faith does not end here. Still the ever enthusiastic, optimistic boy from Dublin, he eagerly carries his faith to the next logical step—action.
The Works of Bono
In 1985, an energetic young man performed to raise money for famine relief in Africa. During the course of the show, the young man leaped from the stage into the crowd below, still crooning people to action. That man was Bono, and the concert was Live Aid 1985.
Bono's stage diving stunt was the genesis of U2's international fame and political activism. Shortly before their release of The Joshua Tree U2 involved themselves with Band Aid and Live Aid, movements designed to encourage action on famine relief. Few knew this Irish rock group, as popular as they were, was on the edge of superstardom.
Live Aid 1985 signified a transformation of the band. While The Joshua Tree was the culmination of what they had been building musically. Live Aid was the beginning of Bono's new mission—using rock-and-roll to change the world.
Since Live Aid, U2 has championed the cause of the needy everywhere. From third-world debt relief to funding for AIDS relief in Africa, U2 has used their star-power to help those suffering around the globe. For Bono, it is his Christian duty. "To me, faith in Jesus Christ that is not aligned to social justice—not aligned with the poor—is nothing."
Bono recognizes God's blessing in his life. He knows he has been given a gift and feels bound to use it for the greater good of humanity—loving his neighbor as himself. Bono recognizes the power of fame. "Celebrity is currency and we want to spend it this way," he says on his campaign for AIDS relief. His fervency for his faith has often been the force behind strong indictments against the church. "Christ's ex­ample is being demeaned by the Church if they ignore the new leprosy, which is AIDS." Perhaps speaking prophetically, he goes on, "the Church is the sleeping giant here. If it wakes up to what's really going on in the rest of the world, it has a real role to play. If it doesn't, it will be irrelevant."
Bono's anger with the church over this issue is not unwarranted. In a poll of American evangelicals in 2002, only 3 percent said they would "definitely help" an orphan of AIDS. Bono's assessment of Christianity is sadly on-target.
Judgementaiism, a kind of sense that people who have AIDS, well, they got it because they deserve it. Well, from my studies of the Scriptures, I don't see a hierarchy to sin. I don't see sexual immorality regis­tering higher up on the list than institutional greed... problems we suffer from in the West.
Bono's tireless work on behalf of the poor has required much sacrifice. He delayed production of his 2000 album All That You Can 't Leave Behind for over a year to work with groups like Jubilee 2000, a coalition de­voted to third-world debt relief. He has traveled across the globe, spending countless hours with economists and international bankers, learning and teaching along the way. His path has taken him to the halls of power across the globe, and he counts Presidents, Prime Ministers and even the Pope as partners in his mission. Bono's politics are not a betrayal of his faith, but the fruit of it. These are the works of Bono, the evidence of a vibrant faith in Jesus Christ.
"Go Ye and Do Likewise"
Jesus said that the entire law and prophets could be summed up in two simple commandments. The first was to love your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; and the second was to love your neighbor as yourself. The apostle James defined pure and undefiled religion as simply helping orphans and widows in their affliction, and keeping oneself from the sins of this world.
Bono is a shining example of what true faith in Christ is all about. He does not put himself up as any type of Christian to be emulated, and would likely be uncomfortable with this article. However, Bono's faith is one that should be emulated.
He is not bound by a building, a denomination, or a prayer book. He is bound by a love of Jesus Christ for the grace He extended. Yet, if Bono is such a good Christian, why has the Christian community rejected him? The answer is simple. The church is worried about the wrong things.
Today's Christian culture is obsessed with exter­nalities. We create our Christian music, Christian television, movies, and magazines. We have Christian colleges and businesses. We have created a parallel culture, one which believes a squeaky-clean image is evidence of true faith. This culture rejects U2, and many like them, because they do not fit into the ac­ceptable mold. They drink, they smoke, and they curse at their concerts and on national television. However, the church has missed the point. Obsession with exter­nalities has blinded the church to the true issue. Jesus ate with sinners and reprobates. He loved all men as He loved himself. All he asked is that we do likewise. Christ did not give us a set of rules to follow as evi­dence of faith, He simply told us to love God and our fellow man, and to help them in their affliction. For as we help one another, we do the same to Him.
Bono's faith acknowledges and embraces this piv­otal tenet of Christianity. His music proclaims his love for God and His children. His concerts explode with an effervescent attitude of worship that affects all who experience it. As James said, faith without works is dead. Bono's faith is alive and evident in all aspects of his life. The church would do well to learn from his example.

Insert Moral Here: A Brief Critique of Christian Fiction through the Lens of Thomas Mallory's Morte Darthur

By Brianna Springer
American Christians have created a bubble for themselves. Perhaps the most visible is the "Christian" bookstore. For the faithful, these estab­lishments are little snatches of celestial rest. Gener­ally they are meticulously clean and play wholesome, elevator-like music at a sleep-inducing volume. Their shelves are lined with books that promise happier, more peaceful lives. For children, brightly colored plush toys abound, just like in secular stores. Only there's a difference. These cuddly creations spout a plethora of Christian platitudes at the push of a button.
All of this can seem quite pleasant, even virtuous. On reflection, however, the modern Christian approach to culture is ineffective and impotent. It sterilizes hu­man nature and makes complex problems seem simple or non-existent. This trend is nowhere more sadly evident than in the realm of popular Christian fiction.
Gone are the days of Thomas Mallory and Fydor Dostoevsky. Authors of that brand and caliber wrote from a Christian perspective, but they wrote with subtlety, finesse, and realism. In their place are writers such as Lori Wick and Frank Peretti. This new breed is professedly, unabashedly, and even—if one may so express it—disgustingly Christian. Far from subtle, many modern Christian authors bludgeon their readers with the gospel. Somehow, Christians have come to believe that, if a work is to be profoundly Christian, it has to be grotesquely explicit and heavy-handed. Such thinking is misguided.
So what does it mean to be "profoundly Christian" if overt references to Christ and salvation don't fit the bill? Two of the most common misconceptions are: "To be profoundly Christian, literature must have a moral" and "To be profoundly Christian, literature must portray clear distinctions between good and evil." Both of those statements are partially true and thus partially helpful. Mallory's Morte Darthur, how­ever, simultaneously demonstrates and transcends their
deficiencies.
First, "To be profoundly Christian, literature must have a moral." There are many morals that one could reasonably draw from Mallory's masterful recount­ing of Camelot's demise. "Do not commit adultery" or "Be loyal to your king" are two obvious examples. Those injunctions play key roles in the work. If nei­ther occurred to the reader. Morte Darthur would not be as powerful and Mallory would not be as awe-in­spiring. Such negligence would reduce the work to a morass of battle scenes and overblown speeches. But to view Morte Darthur as merely conveying the wis­dom of those two commands is to settle for a shallow reading that loses the scope of Mallory's accomplish­ment.
Second. "To be profoundly Christian, literature must portray clear distinctions between good and evil." This maxim is problematic when applied to Morte Darthur. True. Mallory does paint as villains some characters who commit immoral acts. Most notable is Sir Mordred, recalcitrant knight and killer of his father the king. However, even more striking are Mallory's sympathetic portrayals of Sir Lancelot and Guinev­ere, two adulterers whose misdeeds prove the catalyst for the tale's disastrous events. Sir Ector's eulogy of Lancelot expresses Mallory's empathy succinctly and pointedly:
Thou were the courteous! knight that ever bore shield. And thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse, and thou were the truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman, and thou were the kindest man that ever struck with sword [emphasis added].The phrase "truest... of a sinful man" is key. Mallory shows a deep and abiding understanding of human reality. He skillfully avoids the trap of oversimplification.
Good and evil exist, granted, and Mallory freely acknowledges that much. But he refuses to enforce a strict dichotomy between the two among his charac­ters. Mallory vividly demonstrates that good and evil are both within the potential of every man, even every good man.
That message may be more difficult to stomach than saccharine accounts in which good always does good, evil always does evil, and good always triumphs nicely and neatly at the end. If the reader wants only perfect heroes, Mallory's brutally honest depiction of the demise of Arthur will be troubling. The reader is not comforted by any flawless triumph of virtue over villainy. On the contrary, he is reminded that even "good" guys can be bad.
Through the course of Morte Darthur the reader grows to love Lancelot, and Guinevere. Such affec­tion is fitting. He identifies with them. He may even see himself in them as he vicariously lives the adven­tures of the Round Table and the court of Camelot. The twist at the end. the war between Arthur and Lancelot, is all the more jarring and effective. Mal­lory is saying in a subtle but profound way, "Beware! These giants stumbled. You are no better than they. Take care."
At first reading, the flaws Mallory paints onto his
great heroes may seem surprising and out of step with any Christian message or moral in the work. On fur­ther consideration, though, one discovers that it is pre­cisely the opposite. Like the heroes of the Bible, from King David to the apostle Peter, readers learn more compelling and important lessons from the fallibility of heroes than from their perfection. It is aggravating, perhaps, that Lancelot and Guinevere failed so miser­ably, but it is more true to life and helpful that they did so.
Mallory forces readers to wrestle with their own frail, fallen humanity. He does not placate desires for easy resolution. Morte Darthur is sobering. Long after the reader flips the final leaf of the volume, the questions the story raises will not easily be put aside. Nor should they. Insipid moralizing fades away. Morte Darthur remains because Mallory challenges readers on the visceral, intellectual, spiritual, and moral levels alike. Without sugar-coating it, Mallory makes the universal personal.
That is what all great writers must do to be worthy of the designation. Christian authors should hold themselves to the same high standard. They must real­ize that not everyone lives in the bubble. If Christians don't meet people where they are, they'll never meet them at all.

Review of the albium "From a Basement on a Hill"

By Steven Rybicki
Smith's 2003 suicide functions as a melancholy ac­cent to his work. Investigators are still perplexed about the nature of his death. They are stuck on the question of whether it was a suicide or a homicide. Though to fans and critics, of course, it will always be suicide. We were all waiting for it... anticipating it... suspending some interpretations of his records for that moment when his "suicide" would lend those opinions authenticity. He's a Camus, he's a Drake, he's a Co-bain and we are all "responsible" for this death in the same way he is not the "author" of any of his lyrics. As produced, arranged, and programmed by Rob Schnapf and Joanna Blome, Elliott Smith's posthu­mously released record, From a Basement on the Hill begins, "Last stop for a resolution/end of the line, is it confusion1."' Quite appropriately, as evidenced by his mystery shrouded death, he never seems to care whether he answers that question. This record finds him again pontificating upon his emotional landscape. Additionally, he opts to open a new wound: a self-loathing hostility and contempt he feels towards his work and that work's correspondence to, and partici­pation in, the record industry. He spits out, "I've got no new act to amuse you/I've got no desire to use you, you know/but anything that 1 could do would never be enough for you."
The crowning achievement of the record is the two track climax, "King's Crossing" and "Twilight." Personal and professional issues dominate the cuts. The record is too recent to posit these as quintessen­tial offerings from Elliott, but all of his musical and textual hallmarks are present and finely, painfully, and melodically informed. Issues of involvement in the record industry are front and center, as well as the perfunctory Elliott Smith lamentations on love, loss, addiction, and despondence.
"I can't prepare for death more than I already have" is the haunting line that figures "King's Crossing" as an epic piece of songwriting. His melodies emote and soar and he obsesses over his writing and career:
"The method acting that pays my bills/keeps a fat man feeding in Beverly Hills/I got a heavy metal mouth it knows obscenity/and I get my check from the trash treasury/because I took my insides out."
He includes surreal, visceral images that serve as homage to his Beatle heroes, John and Paul, but are profoundly relevant to the music scene that has existed in what Stylus magazine named the "Beatles are Dead" era of the indie record (which began after the release of Radiohead's OK Computer). Elliot contributes: "It's Christmas time/and the needle's on the tree/a skinny Santa bringing something to me" and "open your para­chute and grab your gun/falling down like an omen, a setting sun." The song ends with a brilliant, bitter line that incorporates Smith's self-hatred and love of music: "But I don't care if I f— up/I'm going on a date/with a rich white lady/ain't life great?give me one good reason not to do it/(because I love you)/so do it."
"Twilight" is one of Smith's most brilliant blends of hope and despair set in that familiar context of contact between men and women. Light is the dominant motif of the song, "go off to sleep in the sunshine/I don't want to see the day when it's dying" and "because your candle burns too bright/well, I almost forgot it was twilight." But the song is most poignant with his description of yet another female savior of his wretched, retching soul: "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time/I better stop now before I start crying." And he alternates between the "she's a sight to see, she's good to me/I'm already somebody's baby/she's a pretty thing and she knows everything/but I'm already somebody's baby" and "I'm nice to you, I could make it through/that you're already somebody's baby/if I could make you smile if you stayed a while/but how long will you stay with me baby."
The record ends w ith "A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free." Adopted as one of the songs on Moveon.org's Soundtrack for the Future of America, the track contains intimate imagery entangled with political dejection. The personal images of the song strikingly focus upon Smith's resignation to his drug usage and depression, "I'm floating in a black bal-loon/o.d. on Easter afternoon/my mama told me baby stay clean/there's no in between" and he pleads with his object of attention, "shine on me baby because it's rainin' in my heart." Smith transitions to a more political tone with the song's chorus "You disappoint me/you people rakin' in on the world/ the devil's script sells/you the heart of a blackbird" and the record's fi­nal lyric, "sun is rising on a chopping glare/rain drop­ping acid blotter in the air/a distorted reality is now a necessity to be free/so disappointing/so first I put it all down to luck/god knows why my country don't give a f—." The ending line is appropriately Smithian in its
politics because of its context. Politics is not a process which demands attention for its "essence," rather, it's only another aspect of Smith's grief about the world around him. It is noteworthy to see the shift to the "po­litical" because of the rare incidence of Smith's work concentrating on social, rather than personal, ideas.
Attention to this record has remained on the evalu­ation of this record in Smith's oeuvre. I don't know where to place it, because if it's not obvious by this point in the review, I'll condescend to admit: I'm an Elliott Smith partisan. His work is soothing for me, and as selfish as this sounds, I believe it's true: I miss him.