Respectable Evil

The following is an excerpt from The Marketing of Evil by David Kupelian:

"C.S. Lewis’s seven-volume Chronicles of Narnia, the poignant and brilliantly insightful final book,  The Last Battle, describes how the good-hearted but naïve inhabitants of Narnia throw away their cherished civilization—losing both their lives and their world itself—by falling for a shabby ruse perpetrated by a few cunning and unprincipled characters. When you read it you can’t help thinking, 'Oh, my gosh, this isn’t even a very clever con game; it’s crude, full of contradictions, and easily seen through from a thousand different directions.' You just want to shake them and say, 'Don’t you see what you’re falling for?' Nevertheless, as the con men ruthlessly play on the doubts and fears of the Narnia folk, their lies take hold, and the light of civilization goes out.”

He then goes on to point out that we in America are no different. For decades we’ve been suckered into the lie. We know the emperor isn’t wearing any clothes, but we’re too afraid of being labeled racist, judgmental, or homophobic. So whoever is playing emperor that day, or month, or year continues to flaunt his nakedness and we continue to cower under the threat of being politically incorrect.

Kupelian continues, “How strange. Out of the thousands of years of suffering and oppression that comprise human history, a light burns brightly for just a couple of hundred years. The American experiment: a revolutionary idea that the common man can be free, master of his own government, so long as he himself is ruled by God. For a short time this brilliant young country dazzles all the world and all of history, not just with its power and productivity and progress, but with its goodness.

“And then, out of pure hatred—the same rage and rebellion institutionalized in communism, Nazism, and all the other ‘isms’ that have paved the world’s roads with corpses throughout the last century—haters of truth scheme to extinguish this shining light. So they concoct an absurd, fantastic ruse—that animals should have the same rights as humans beings, that white people are inherently racist and oppressive, that self-destructive sexual compulsions are perfectly normal and noble. Each passing year brings new and more bizarre delusions being held up as truth.

How much stranger that we’ve bought it.”

In the 1983 movie The Dead Zone, based on Stephen King’s novel, Christopher Walken’s character Johnny Smith awakens from a five-year coma to find his girlfriend Sarah has married and that he has been imbued with strange powers: by touching someone he can see into their lives and futures. The end comes when he shakes the hand of a popular politician, Greg Stillson, and sees him as future president, starting the final war. He sets his sights on assassinating this guy, played by Martin Sheen—and he almost succeeds in shooting him—until Stillson, sensing danger, shows his true colors by grabbing Sarah’s baby, holding the child in front of him as a shield.

I remember how righteously outraged and horrified we were. Even though Johnny dies for his efforts, truth and justice prevail: Greg Stillson’s career is ruined. Keep in mind this was 1983. Ronald Reagan was president. There was still a modicum of sanity in Washington. Most sexual deviation was still considered a disease—or a sin. We still had dominion over the animals, or so we thought. It was okay to be white without apologizing. The Dead Zone spoke to the decency in all of us. It was easy to understand why Martin Sheen’s character had committed political suicide by one cowardly act.

The line between good and evil, already on its way to blurring even then, has now become nearly imperceptible. Two years ago we began watching a young, bright senator from Chicago, who burst on the scene in a blaze of glory, the promise of a new era in America. “Our next president,” we heard from every corner of the media. We began learning fascinating details of his life: that he was born in Hawaii to a white mother and black (sort of) father; that he attended a prestigious law school and shot his way up the political ladder; he would be the perfect candidate to inject new life into a bogged-down America. Then we learned still more: that he got his political start in the home of Bill Ayers, a known terrorist; that, for twenty years, he attended a church run by an America-hating, white-hating, vitriol-spewing radical. He used Saul Alinsky and Frank Marshall Davis as role models. He was closely connected to Tony Rezko, who gave his early bid for the senate a financial lift. During his run for the presidency he was stripped bare. Every day brought a new revelation about his socialist/Marxist commitment. As late as October of last year, bloggers were publishing lists of Obama’s friends and associates, dating back to his childhood. America haters all.

Ah, but this was the candidate of hope and change. This was the silver-tongued, spellbinding Black Man, who told us what we wanted to hear. This was America’s escape from guilt. Vote for the Black man; all your white responsibility will be swept away in the winds of change.

If you don’t vote for him you’re a racist.

Now we have a president who has no need to pretend anymore. His agenda is clear; his actions speak for themselves; his change is rapidly bringing America to the brink of extinction. He could hold up that baby to protect himself, but it wouldn’t make any difference; with a stroke of a pen shortly after the inauguration he sealed the fate of thousands of babies without a moment’s hesitation. What difference would one more baby make? Who would be outraged?


Love,

Granny