Guest Post: A Creaver’s Perspective

Hello. I am Creaver. Stallion is lazy, and he wanted someone else to post so he wouldn’t have to. So I am posting today. Resign yourself to it.

So I suppose you want to know about me. (Actually, no supposing is necessary.) I was born circa 1913, when records were spotty and English had not yet been standardized. I was raised in joint custody by a pack of wolves and the Department of Motor Vehicles. I don’t like the word “stat.”

I am currently old. I find things to be not as good as other things, like groove things that are shaken. Smells are common. I don’t think that’s something you didn’t already have the pleasure of knowing. But I raise that to point out that effluvia is a subject about which I find much interest, even against my better judgment. It will be plenty of time for questions later.

Now you know some about me, but not all. There is more. I came to prominence when Adria Watley and me stormed the vaudeville circuit singing “Kentucky Waters” even though we had not been booked on the stages and were often cited for disorderly conduct. Lockdown is once where I met my wife, whose name was Frieda Glutz. She is now dead, but that doesn’t stop her from sending me letters. She can be a rascal – stat!

This may have answered your questions. I may have some questions of my own. Just as an example, can you read this question? They say reading is fundamental, but you and I know who writes the checks. Nobody writes checks. It is of a bygone era, and this consternates me.

All of what I have written is encompassed in several categories. Perhaps there is one more to your liking then several of the others. A token of this can be found in several places. Sniff it out.

I have involuntarily patterned my life after Marie Osmond’s. I would have mentioned that at the outset if it weren’t so freaking obvious. I yearn to be a geodetic surveyor. Yearning is not a thing that I typically do, but typical isn’t always an obstacle.

I napped in between paragraphs. You may not have noticed the passage of time. I have chronicled it here for you convenience and for your review.

I think supermarket self-checkout machines are too chatty. They all me a “valued customer,” when everyone can transparently observe that this is a falsity. If it were a person, it would not be wishing me a nice day but rather be smacking me on the tuckus with a broom because I was fondling the grunions on aisle 3.

This is what I have written. I will conclude with a picture of some shoes that are not mine.




Dark Thoughts from a Calabasas Kid

I grew up in Calabasas, California, now known to the world as the home of the Kardashians. It was, and still is, a town rife with wealth and privilege. I went to high school with the children of sports legends and movie/TV stars, and my peers without fame still seemed blessed with a fortune well beyond mine. Everyone was better looking, better liked, and better funded than an awkward, skinny, pale kid who was bad at sports and incapable of speaking in complete sentences when within a ten-foot radius of the opposite sex.

Spoiler alert: that awkward, skinny, pale kid I just mentioned? It was me. Me, of all people! O woe! Woe beyond imagining! O thou baleful world, which doth cast its cosmic aspersions upon the trousers of my soul! O weep for me, the most wretched of God’s wretchedest thingees!


I find such self-pity to be silly in retrospect, but I couldn’t get enough of it back in the day. All too often, this perceived disparity between my meager blessings and everyone else’s bounty frustrated me to no end. I’d see a pretty girl, and I’d want her, and I knew I couldn’t have her. The crushing disappointment was almost physically painful. So I’d resent the girls, and I’d loathe the guys they chose instead of me.

This would occasionally lead me to indulge in dark thoughts.

Yes, I could imagine the scales of justice being balanced by me getting everything I craved and everyone else getting their comeuppance. Usually, these ugly musings involved humiliating people, not hurting them. But sometimes, I confess, the fantasies crossed the line into scenarios that are better left unblogged.

Yet in spite of all that, I’ve somehow made it to middle age without ever killing another human being. I’ve never even come close.

That’s not to say my dark thoughts never translated into real world petulance or cruelty. But it is to say that such thoughts were never allowed to fester unchecked long enough to become truly destructive. Good thoughts intruded on the bad, reminding me that what I was contemplating was inherently wrong, and that my jealous, angry instincts represented the very worst part of who I was.

As this internal struggle has raged on throughout my life, two other truths have helped the better angels of my nature stay on the winning side. The first is the recognition that this is a universal battle that all of us fight. Everyone encounters disappointment, and everyone occasionally finds themselves bogged down in spiritual mud and contemplating unacceptable options.

The second truth is an extension of the first – it’s the recognition that those I envied were all engaged in the battle, too. In my youthful resentment, I assumed the beautiful people never had problems, that they had no clue what it was like to feel awkward, abandoned, or ostracized.  I was very wrong. I was also stunned to discover later in life that some of these people even envied me. Me, of all people! That floored me. Didn’t they read that part about endless woe I wrote earlier?

The point is, to paraphrase The Police song “Message in a Bottle,” none of us are alone in being alone. And the internal conflict between light and darkness is both universal and intimately personal, and we should never assume that someone else isn’t right in the thick of it.

The good news is that most of us ultimately win that battle, more or less. Very few people allow their fouler impulses to dominate their character, which speaks well for us as a species. But, as exemplified this weekend by that other Calabasas kid who shot up Santa Barbara, there are rare and heartbreaking instances where some of us not only give in to that evil, they embrace it.

I think our collective response to this kind of evil is well-intentioned – we want to think the best of everyone, and we don’t want to admit that our fellow man or woman is capable of such monstrosity. That’s why we try to defang it by coming up with therapeutic or societal explanations. I read several articles claiming that this piece of human garbage “suffered from” this or that mental disorder or condition, implying this is a clinical problem that some medicine or treatment could have fixed. I saw several tired attempts to revive hoary civic debates, as if there were some piece of legislation that could keep everyone from giving in to evil. Some of those efforts come from a good place, but they’re hampered by an unwillingness to confront ugly truths about ourselves.

It’s not just that we want to think well of others. It’s also that we don’t want to admit the commonality of their evil with our own.

Every person reading this – indeed, every person who has ever lived – has had opportunities to let the dark thoughts win. And each time the dark thoughts win, it’s easier for them to win the next time. Eventually, each of us could find ourselves in a place where we don’t even allow righteousness to offer a rebuttal. We could then make the choice to stage our own nightmarish “Day of Retribution” and convince ourselves that wickedness is justice.

For me, this incident highlighted that possibility in very stark terms. The killer was a Calabasas kid, as was I. Both of us had similar opportunities, or, in the case of girlfriend possibilities, a distinct lack thereof. Both of us felt the world was actively plotting to thwart our success, and both of us brainstormed about ways to get even.

But he indulged the darkness, and I didn’t. And he killed people, and I didn’t.

So you want to prevent this kind of atrocity in the future? You won’t do it by passing a law or prescribing a pill. You’ll do it by acknowledging the reality of evil in every soul, and you’ll do everything you can to help strengthen the forces fighting against it.

That strength comes not from the illusion that monsters like this other Calabasas kid are completely alien to us, but rather from the recognition that we could have been monsters, too, but we chose not to be.

X-Men Problems

X-Men-GermanSo I saw “X-Men: Days of Future Past” with my twin boys last night.

We had a good time. It was a good movie, probably the best of the X-films, with the possible exception of “First Class.” If you like this sort of thing, rest assured you will enjoy yourself during the watching process.

I am not particularly interested in reviewing it. It’s good. Quicksilver’s ten minutes are some of the best superhero moments ever filmed. Go see it. I will not stand in your way. I will, however, spoil the plot details for you from here on out if you have not seen it. (So, you know, spoiler warning, abandon all hope, yada yada yada.)

One of the big selling points of this movie has been that it’s designed to clean up the continuity messes made over the course of the X-film series. And according to every review I’ve read, it has succeeded brilliantly in doing so.

Well, I am here to tell you, unequivocally, that it hasn’t. If anything, it has made the problems far worse.

Does anyone recall “X-Men 3: The Last Stand?” You probably shouldn’t, because it was wretched. But lots of things happened in X3, things that ought to be consequential in DOFP. “The Last Stand” was the one where Professor X dies halfway through, where Magneto loses his powers at the end, and where Wolverine impales Jean Grey and James Marsden’s Cyclops dies offscreen in the first reel so Marsden could go play Lois Lane’s cuckold in “Superman Returns.”

By the end of this new movie, none of that actually happened. Isn’t that great? DOFP washes away all the X3 stink. Except the consequences of the X3 events ought to have been adequately addressed by the DOFP plot, and, for the most part, they’re ignored completely.

Let’s begin with the good professor, shall we? In X3, his body is completely obliterated by Jean Grey’s telekinesis, and they have a funeral for him and everything. Yet he pops up in the post-credits stinger of last year’s “The Wolverine” movie alive and well. That didn’t bother me, as I presumed they’d explain his miraculous rise from the dead in “Days of Future Past.”

Nope. They didn’t even mention it.

And before you get all geek-huffy on me, I recognize that there was a post-credits resurrection moment for Dr. X at the end of X3. We’re therefore supposed to assume that this was how he came back, and there’s no need to waste any screen time in explaining it further.

But for pity’s sake, doesn’t anybody remember how he came back?

There’s a scene in X3 where Charles Xavier is teaching a class on mutant ethics. He cites as a case study the healthy body of a man with no consciousness. If a mutant had the power to inject his consciousness into this brain-dead body, would that be an ethically acceptable thing to do? Before he can get an answer, however, the demands of the plot interrupt him, and the issue is never raised again – until the very, very end, when the woman monitoring the brain-dead dude hears him speak with Patrick Stewart’s voice. So Xavier has leapfrogged all ethical obstacles and transferred his mental hard drive into all-new hardware.  Presto! Our hero has returned!

Yeah, that’s swell. Except nobody seems to notice that our hero has returned in someone else’s body. Why, then, does he still look like Patrick Stewart?!

In Googling this, I came across an explanation from X3 director Brett Ratner, who apparently said in the DVD commentary that this body belonged to Professor X’s identical twin. Um, ok. That’s ridiculously lazy writing, as there’s never been any reference to Xavier having a twin brother who has been a vegetable on life support for six decades or so, but fine, that’s probably the best you can do.

So why does this convenient, out-of-nowhere spare body donor on reserve in case of Xavier’s death also have a spinal cord injury? Shouldn’t Patrick Stewart’s Professor X be up and walking now that he’s traded in his old fleshware for the new? Nope. he’s still tooling around in his really cool wheelchair. Why? Well, because. Stop asking questions.

As for Magneto, his return to form didn’t bother me as much in light of the last pre-credits shot of X3 when he barely moves a metal chess piece without touching it. But that’s a far cry from the kind of magnetic firepower he wields in the third movie. But OK, the future part of the third movie takes place decades after X3, so his powers could have come back over time. But what about the post-credits scene in “The Wolverine?” Magneto’s back in full force there, and that movie shows Wolverine dealing with the aftermath of the third film as if it happened relatively recently. So the X3 mutant “cure” wore off pretty quickly, didn’t it? Doesn’t that entirely negate the entire premise of the third film?

DOFP did nothing to resolve the myriad of  continuity issues with that Xavier/Magneto/Logan moment in the second solo Wolverine movie. There are so many crammed into such a short span of time that they simply stagger the imagination. Rewatch it, and then come back to me.

There, as Wolverine walks through airport security, he sees TV ads for Trask Industries that suggest they’re just starting to roll out the Sentinels that make life for all mutants hell on earth. These ads are being broadcast circa 2013.

But in “Days of Future Past,” the Sentinels are rolled out by Richard Nixon way back in 1973. You can say that this whole process was sped up by the events in DOFP, but at the beginning of the new movie, they announce that Mystique’s murder of Bolivar Trask at the Paris Peace Accords sets the Sentinel Project in motion in the timeline of the original X-films. Yet in that timeline, the first mention of the Sentinels project isn’t until 2013! What accounts for the four-decade discrepancy here, other than extreme sloppiness?

All right, maybe if you have really strong belief suspension skills, you can assume that Trask Industries has been building Sentinels all along, and nobody’s ever bothered to bring it to our attention. But even if the audience didn’t know that, surely Wolverine would have. Yet when he’s approached by Professor X and Magneto at the airport, they warn him of the grave threat that threatens to destroy all mutants, and it’s the first time he’s heard about it. Magneto even says that there are “dark forces building [present tense] a weapon that could be the end of our kind.” So the idea that the Sentinels have been coming off the assembly line since the Watergate years pretty much falls apart.

There are so many more problems, and I’m already over a thousand words. More tomorrow.

Talking of Tenets

NOTE: The first six hundred or so words of this post deal with a tedious, somewhat tendentious issue in Mormon apologetics, which I felt compelled to describe in detail to illustrate my larger point. But if you want to just skip to that larger point, I highlight where it begins in  BOLD ORANGE TEXT below.


I stumbled across a rather bizarre article on an obscure blog where the author claims to have talked to several high-ranking LDS church officials – all unnamed, of course – who secretly confess that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is on the brink of collapse because… well, pick your favorite anti-Mormon meme. I won’t link to it here, because the blog only launched at the beginning of the month, which means it is undiscovered, and it deserves to stay that way.*

Among other things, the author insists that church founder Joseph Smith owned a “Jupiter talisman” that he considered to be one of his most prized possessions. The blog helpfully explained that a “Jupiter talisman” was a satanic artifact designed to gain the support of whatever evil spirits were in the vicinity. The blog insists that Joseph’s obsession with satanic jewelry was well-documented by historical records.

Now I thought I’d bumped into just about every wacky argument against my church that was out there, but this was one I’d never heard before. So I turned to the Almighty Google to do a little research, and I quickly discovered that the only reference to Joseph’s devil trinket came from a guy named Charles Bidamon, the illegitimate son of Lewis Bidamon, the second husband of Joseph’s widow, Emma Smith. In 1938, nearly a century after Joseph Smith’s death, Charles Bidamon sold a “silver pocket piece” to a Mormon memorabilia collector with an affidavit insisting that this piece “was in the Prophet’s pocket when he was martyred at Carthage, Ill.” This piece wasn’t specifically identified as a “Jupiter talisman” until 1974.

So there it is. Abandon ship, Mormons – Ol’ Joe Smith was a satanist, and your church is a fraud!

But there’s a problem. It turns out that everything Joseph had on his person when he died was itemized in a list given to Emma, which reads as follows:

Received, Nauvoo, Illinois, July 2, 1844, of James W. Woods, one hundred and thirty- five dollars and fifty cents in gold and silver and receipt for shroud, one gold finger ring, one gold pen and pencil case, one penknife, one pair of tweezers, one silk and one leather purse, one small pocket wallet containing a note of John P. Green for $50, and a receipt of Heber C. Kimball for a note of hand on Ellen M. Saunders for one thousand dollars, as the property of Joseph Smith.

No mention of Joseph’s supposed “prize possession” on loan from Hell can be found in this list, and no mention of Joseph owning such can be found anywhere else in any historical record. So the idea of a “well-documented” claim that Joseph just loved his Beelzebub bauble gives way to the reality that some guy conned a collector by selling him the historical equivalent of an autographed baseball card with Babe Ruth’s misspelled signature written in neon green ink from a “Hello Kitty” magic marker.


After digging through all the research necessary to refute this tiresome attack on my faith, I find that I’m seriously ambivalent in my approach to Mormon apologetics. Having had my first disturbing encounter with anti-Mormonism back in college, I am grateful for those back then who had taken the time and energy to patiently respond to the heated, misleading, and often baseless misrepresentations of what my church teaches and what its members believe. That’s why, when I encounter similar accusations today, my first instinct is to pay it forward by diving in, fighting back, and beating down those who would define my community in ways I don’t recognize. I’ve done that oodles of times on this blog, and I’ll likely do it again.

But is that always a good idea?

Back when I was a missionary in Scotland, my wise mission president pointed out that such discussions don’t necessarily advance the cause of righteousness. He quoted the Doctrine and Covenants counsel about “reviling not against revilers” which was followed by this instruction:

And of tenets thou shalt not talk, but thou shalt declare repentance and faith on the Savior, and remission of sins by baptism, and by fire, yea, even the Holy Ghost.
 - Doctrine and Covenants 19:31, emphasis added

I confess  I didn’t know what a “tenet” was when I first read that verse. My mission president described a “tenet” as a component of our history or theology that is a relatively small part of the big picture that is the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In other words, those trying to bring others to Christ ought to focus more on declaring repentance and less on squabbling over whether or not Joseph Smith owned a Jupiter talisman.

That’s good advice.

The fact is that tenet-based discussions rarely, if ever, change people’s minds, and those who are eager to smear Joseph Smith with made-up nonsense like this won’t be convinced of his integrity once you prove that your tenet is better than their tenet. More likely, they’ll just pick another tenet and move on to the next attack.

The other problem with a tenet-based focus it does not represent a genuine Latter-day Saint experience. Members of my church do not remain faithful because they’ve constructed a theological house of cards that can be brought down with the discovery of a Jupiter talisman. Rather, they continue to serve in the Church because they have had a genuine experience with their Heavenly Father and the Lord Jesus Christ that is far removed from heated confrontations with dissidents. So while belligerent critics aren’t likely to alter their opinion when you win a squabble over tenets, so it is that devoted Mormons aren’t likely to abandon their faith when they hear the latest recycled accusations against the church they love.

All that said, I still think it’s important that the answers to all of these questions be made available, which is why I applaud the Church for their expanded efforts in this area. When I respond to critics, I do so knowing that neither my mind nor their mind will be changed, but someone reading the exchange who was troubled by an accusation might realize that there are, in fact, reasonable and logical answers to the questions being raised. I’m grateful someone did that for me, and if I can help someone else, all the better.

But, granted, it can seem pointless and get pretty boring. You should know that yourself if you’ve read this post all the way through.

*In the course of writing this post, I discovered that, they with the great website and the lousy Facebook group, discovered the same “the-church-is-crumbling” piece that inspired this post, and they eviscerated it with ease. Not only is the original piece wrong, it’s also plagiarized. Again, I won’t link to the original piece*, but the fairmormon response is worth your time.

*And, it turns out, the original piece, including the entire blog that hosted it, has been yanked offline. So I couldn’t link to it if I wanted to.

This post means what you want it to mean

As an LDS missionary way back when, I remember a conversation with a man in Thurso, Scotland, who had participated in a discussion that introduced the basic elements of the theology of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At the end of this conversation, we invited him to read The Book of Mormon and pray to know whether or not it was true. To assure him that these prayers would be heard and answered, we asked him to read aloud what has come to be known as “Moroni’s promise,” found in Moroni chapter 10, verses 3 through 5, which you can review here.

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” he said afterward. “It’s very clear what that means.”

That was an encouraging thing to hear.  “How would you put it into your own words?” I asked.

“Well, basically, he’s saying that I should do what’s best for me and mine and stay with the church I’ve got.”

Sorry, what?

Moroni 10:3-5 talks about reading the Book of Mormon, pondering it, and praying about it. Moroni says that if you have faith and a sincere heart, the Holy Ghost will let you know that the book is true. But somehow, that became “stick with your old church, toss this book into the trash, and show the Mormons the door.”

Granted, Moroni 10:3-5 says a lot of things, but none of them are that.

This incident was probably the most dramatic and strange example of someone altering scriptures to suit a position they already had, but the phenomenon was evident throughout my mission. It was astonishing to me how easy it was for so many to ignore the plain meaning of simple words and replace any message with one they liked better.

I’ve found that this is a problem among the secular set, too.

I recently read a column by my father in the Deseret News about the economic consequences of implementing “fairness” through the redistribution of wealth. He shows that policies designed to help the poor by sticking it to the rich end up destroying the means to create the wealth they’re eager to redistribute, hurting everybody in the process. He concludes by saying that “the fundamental truth remains – wealth must be created before it can be redistributed.”

That last line is quoted in the comments section by someone who claims to agree. “I think that is the argument,” writes someone named Baron Scarpia in Logan, Utah. Except the argument, when he restates it in his next sentence, comes out like this: “The wealthy keep getting wealthier, but the middle and lower classes seem to be left out of the economic boom they’ve enjoyed.”

Well, okay. That’s an argument, but that’s not the argument, at least not the one that’s made in the column.

But, sadly, Baron isn’t the only one who seems to have read a different column than the one that was written. Another guy seems to think he’s talking about the capital gains tax, and another guy thinks he’s not adequately defending the GOP, and others say that the wealth has already been created, so it’s time to spread it around. But none of these guys address anything that was actually said.

This is par for the course in any global warming discussion. Alarmists use the bogus 97% figure to support any part of any argument they choose. What, you think a carbon tax and/or cap and trade is a bad idea? Well, 97% of scientists disagree with you! You’re not convinced that global warming will destroy life as we know it? Maybe you ought to talk to the 97% who say it will. You think Al Gore is a pompous, hypocritical know-nothing who spreads alarmism he doesn’t understand to fuel an extravagant lifestyle paid for by the fears of the ignorant? Well… yeah, that’s pretty much indisputable. But the 97% agree with me on everything else.

That stupid 97% figure comes from a flawed analysis of tens of thousands of scientific articles about the climate, 97% of which indicate that humans have some impact on the climate.

That’s it. Humans have some impact. Which is, of course, undeniable. I emit all manner of gasses on a daily basis, and those gasses have an impact. So I’m part of that 97%. (The real question is who these wacky 3% are. What, their poop smells like roses? You have an impact, people. Turn on the fan.)

But extrapolated from that statistic is every alarmist viewpoint imaginable, and it gets very tiresome when people decide things mean whatever they want them to mean.

It’s just like when Maya Angelou said ““Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud,” which clearly means “vote Republican.”


Bigotry on the Brink of Theocracy

Years ago, I read two novels by author Ben Bova, “Mars” and “Return to Mars,” which described scenarios by which mankind would explore the surface of the Red Planet. I vaguely remember enjoying them.

While wandering through Barnes & Noble, I stumbled upon a third Mars book by Bova, entitled “Mars Life.” It was a paperback priced at $6.99, so it was a low-risk purchase in which I indulged. Yet only twenty pages into the thing, I’m ready to throw it across the room and never pick it up again.

Bova’s book is built on the scientifically indefensible premise that the polar ice caps will melt in just a few years, which will result in… well, I’ll let you tell you himself.

From his preface:

The political results of massive greenhouse flooding will be, I fear, to accelerate a trend toward ultraconservative religion-based governments almost everywhere on earth, a trend that is already evident in much of the world, including the United States.

When I read sentences like that, I fall into despair.

Mr. Bova seems to be, by all accounts, a bright man. But if he truly believes that theocracy is just around the corner, then he has misunderstood me and others like me in such a profound way that it is impossible to believe that we could have any productive communication whatsoever. It’s also impossible for me to respect anything he says, as he has revealed himself to be vapid, arrogant, and almost irredeemably ignorant.

For further evidence of such, consider this fictional scientific presentation to a California school board that Bova thinks is a plausible prediction of the near future:

Maxwell remained in his chair, smiling back at the board members. He was a stocky man in his late forties, with crinkles around his deep set eyes.

“This won’t take long. I represent the Mars Foundation, as most of you know. The Foundation wants to make its package of learning materials available to the schools of your district.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “For free, of course. ”

“A package of learning materials?” asked one of the board members.


“About Mars. About the exploration work going on there,” Maxwell said. “The lifeforms they found. The cliff dwellings. The ancient volcanoes. The kids’ll love it.”


One of the two male board members, tanned and sun-blond as a beachcomber, knit his brows. “This is science stuff, isn’t it?”


Nodding, Maxwell replied, “The exploration’s being done by scientists, yes. But it’s exciting. It’s an adventure in discovery!”


The beachcomber shook his head. Turning to the chairperson, he complained, “Look, they tried to ram Darwin down our throats years ago. The scientists are always trying to sneak their ideas into the school curriculum. It’s our duty to protect our children from their secularist propaganda.”


“But it’s not propaganda! “Maxwell cried, sounding genuinely hurt. “It’s real. They’re actually searching for the remains of a village that intelligent Martians lived in millions of years ago!”


“Yeah. And I’m descended from a monkey. “

Granted, the possibility of ancient Martian villages may seem absurd, but it’s far less ludicrous than the possibility of a California public school board rejecting Darwinism as “secular propaganda.” Maybe that’s why Bova moves onto an easier target at the end of this passage.

For it seems that having been rejected by the Sacramento Inquisition, this poor fictional scientist dreads what comes next.

From page 20:

Reluctantly Maxwell got to his feet and shuffled out of the meeting room. He knew what the board’s decision would be. And he didn’t look forward to the next stop on his itinerary: Salt Lake City.

Oh, spare me.

We are left to assume that the Mormons like me epitomize the tyrannical theocracy that is to come. Mr. Bova fears me, but he clearly does not understand me. There is a word to describe people who slander others they fear but do not understand.

That word is “bigot. And “bigot” is a label that Ben Bova goes out of his way to earn.

Only prejudice can explain the premise that the Western world is on the brink of theocracy. The fact is that, outside of the Middle East, religion has never been more marginalized in affairs of state than it is today, and the worldwide trend is decidedly toward the secular, not the sacred. Europe is now essentially a post-Christian continent, and anyone who tries to mention God in a state-sanctioned setting in America is subject to lengthy and costly litigation. Maybe Bova’s worried that China, the world’s fastest growing economy and an officially atheistic nation, is about to wholeheartedly turn to Jesus?

That’s something that can only be believed by willfully ignoring reality. And the willful ignorance of reality is a primary criterion for bigotry.

So this is why I despair. Asking me to find common ground with a bigot like Bova is like asking the Chairman of the NAACP to reach out to the Klan. There can be no productive discussions until bigotry is set aside and people treat each other with respect and courtesy, all the while acknowledging a common set of facts.

But Bova’s bigotry is not accepted as such by the cool people, the people who consider prejudice to be enlightenment, who hide behind scholarly pretense to breed ignorance and stoke fear.

So, to sum up, I’m done with “Mars Life,” and I wasted seven bucks. Maybe I’ll just read Harry Potter again.

A Few Mini-Rants

None of these subject deserve a full-fledged rant of their own, and/or some of them are the subject of previous rants, so I’ve edited down these additions to four bite-sized chunks.

Mini-Rant #1 – The Earth Isn’t Getting Bigger

I could write – and have written – dozens of global warming-themed rants, because global warming alarmism keeps people in developing nations in crushing poverty and does so under the pretense that the alarmists hold the moral and scientific high ground. This is despite the fact that there has been no warming for 17 years and nine months, something the much-ballyhooed “consensus” utterly failed to predict, and the fact that none of the so-called “solutions” would alter global temperatures at all, something the much ballyhooed “consensus” has been forced to concede.

17years9monthsIt’s not surprising, then, that alarmists are scraping the bottom of the panic barrel to come up with new nonsense to scare people into voluntarily supporting the willful impoverishment of just about everyone on the African continent. And today’s announcement that the earth is “expanding” because of our SUVs represents precisely that. They even have a picture where they can say “you can almost see it happening!” (Click on the link in the previous sentence to almost see it.)

“You can almost see it happening” reminds me of my cousin’s excuse for not lending a hand when my sister was moving - he couldn’t commit to help because “something might come up.”

Mini-Rant #2 - I’d rather not be Bill Maher

Bill Maher, who I don’t like, referenced Kathleen Parker’s column about the Donald Sterling controversy where she called for all of us to edit our more outrageous thoughts before we give voice to them, even in private. “Always editing? I’d rather be a Mormon,” Maher said. “And that’s what we’d all be: Mitt Romney.” ‘Cause, you know, all Mormon are inexpressive automatons.

Granted, this isn’t nearly as bad as some of the dreck Maher has said, but it’s still stunning to me that nobody bats an eye when Mormons are mocked. This quote came to my attention when Mrs. Cornell told me she had heard it on Sean Hannity’s radio show, and that Hannity agreed with Maher and had no problem with Maher’s casual dismissal of all Latter-day Saints

This isn’t a crisis, but it’s obnoxious, and people ought to recognize the double standard.

Mini-Rant #3 - Mormons and Moms

Speaking of Mormons who do, in fact, speak their minds, I read this piece by an old friend of mine from college, titled “On The Subject Of My Highest And Holiest Calling,” wherein she takes issue with the church for referring to motherhood as a woman’s highest and noblest calling. To quote from the piece:

Telling women that parenting is our highest and holiest calling—while failing to say the same to men—displays a freakishly bad double standard.

She makes some very good points in that piece. Mother’s Day is often an exercise in cringeworthy patronization as Mormon men take to the pulpit to condescendingly praise the little women by their sides who made it all possible. (That wasn’t the case this Mother’s Day in our ward, though, as the speaker was pretty much perfect – and he even sang beautifully, too!)

Much of what thus writer mentions here is right on target.

I take issue, however, with the idea that Mormon men aren’t told that fatherhood is their highest and holiest calling. I have been told this innumerable times, and it’s also been pointed out to me that God could have us address Him with any number of titles, but we are supposed to approach him in prayer as “Our Father in Heaven,” so God Himself sees fatherhood as His highest and holiest calling, and we should do likewise.

Mini-Rant #4 – Ice Cream Truck Music Isn’t Racist

I just read this piece over at NPR that tells us we should all be offended when we hear an ice cream truck drive through the neighborhood playing “Turkey in the Straw,” because “Turkey in the Straw” was used as the melody in the antebellum South for a really awful racist ditty whose title is too offensive to repeat here.

How stupid is this? Very.

Fact is, most melodies that have been around for centuries have been attached to a number of different lyrics. The text of Martin Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” is  sung to the tune of an old drinking song, and “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” was grafted on to the melody of “John Brown’s Body Lies A-mouldering in the Grave” to redeem that song from the various filthy lyrics that Civil War soldiers used to improvise in order to one-up each other. These songs are not stained by the history of the tunes that accompany them.

As for “Turkey in the Straw,” kids and adults who hear that annoying piece of drivel recognize it as, you know, “Turkey in the Straw” –  or maybe “Do Your Ears Hang Low,” which may be offensive to those with really big ears that they can tie in knots. It seems churlish to remind anyone that this innocuous tune was misappropriated a century and a half ago by racists who have been mouldering in the grave for over a hundred years.

I still take offense, though, because I loathe any MIDI jingle being broadcast by loudspeakers on top of a van in front of my house.



A FairMormon Rant

I’m a big fan of, an LDS apologetics website that confronts some of the thornier issues in Mormon history and theology. So I joined their official Facebook group in the hopes of having some interesting conversations.

Be careful what you wish for.

One of the threads focused on controversy surrounding past Mormon racism.  One member asked a question along these lines:

“In light of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’s definitive essay on the subject which states that ‘the Church disavows the theories advanced in the past that black skin is a sign of divine disfavor or curse,’ how do you reconcile that position with Brigham Young’s racist statements about Cain and such?”

I read the responses and felt my stomach turn. All of the answers tried to maintain that Brigham wasn’t necessarily wrong, that the exclusion of black people holding the priesthood wasn’t really racist, and that it is somehow possible to believe Brigham’s racist rants are reconcilable with the church’s current position. In doing so, these people invoked all the same tortured logic and tired arguments that were being tossed around when the ban was in effect.

So I dove in.

“How do you reconcile these statements? You don’t,” I said. “You accept that Brigham Young was wrong, and you move on.”

The outcry was immediate. Wait a minute! Brigham Young was wrong?! Wasn’t he a prophet of God?

Yes on both counts. He was a prophet, and he was wrong. He followed the Lord to the best of his understanding, but he was not free from the prejudices and prevailing cultural attitudes of the day. The theory about the curse of Cain was a common justification for the evils of slavery, and Brigham bought into it, much like most religionists of the time.

You’d think I’d shot somebody in the face based on the responses I got.

But the fact remains that two statements are irreconcilable. When the modern church explicitly states that black skin is not a sign of divine disfavor or curse, and Brigham Young says that black skin is, in fact, a sign of the curse of Cain, you can’t possibly say that both statements are true. For my part, I choose to follow the living prophet over the dead one. Isn’t that the reason we have a living prophet in the first place?

I’m not alone in this, incidentally. “[I]t is time disbelieving people repented and got in line and believed in a living, modern prophet,” said one observer right after the 1978 revelation that extended priesthood blessings to people of all races. “Forget everything that I have said, or what President Brigham Young or President George Q. Cannon or whomsoever has said in days past that is contrary to the present revelation.”  Based on the reaction from my similar statements to that effect, you’d think this was an essay from some virulent critic of the church and not by one of its most scholarly apostles, Elder Bruce R. McConkie.

I passed along this quote, along with Dieter Uchtdorf’s recent conference talk where he admits that sometimes leaders have made mistakes.  I quoted Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, who said that “[e]xcept in the case of His only perfect Begotten Son, imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with. That must be terribly frustrating to Him, but He deals with it. So should we.”

But I was told, over and over again, that I was missing the point. Sure, Bruce R. McConkie said forget what Brigham Young said about this, but that doesn’t mean what Brigham Young said was wrong. (Um, I’m pretty sure it does. Why forget it if it’s right?) Sure, President Uchtdorf said leaders have made mistakes, but he wasn’t talking about big mistakes. (He wasn’t? Then why say it at all? Little mistakes don’t shake anyone’s faith.) Perhaps the weirdest response was “maybe leaders are fallible, but the church is anything but!” (Yeah, how is that even possible?)

On Facebook, a friend of mine pointed out that the Catholic Church teaches papal infallibility and the Catholics don’t believe it, whereas the Mormons teach that prophets aren’t infallible, and the Mormons don’t believe it.

I tried to continue the discussion and was told I was faithless, that I was bowing to political correctness, and that I was a NOM – a “New Order Mormon,” which is a term I had never heard before.  I think its sectarian equivalent is a “Cafeteria Catholic,” someone who picks and chooses which of their church’s doctrines they will conveniently believe. Apparently, real Mormons believe their leaders are perfect even when the leaders themselves insist they are not. Even, the site upon which this group was based, rejects that position, NOMS that they are.

I’ve written extensively about this subject on this blog – see here and here – and I provided links to both of those posts to clarify my position. My posts were deleted on the basis that I was linking to an anti-Mormon website – the very website you find yourself reading right now, you anti-Mormon, you!

I was then summarily booted out of the group and have no idea what happened after that.

So I just wanted to take this opportunity to tell that they’re not infallible, either. While their main website is a valuable resource that does admirable work, their Facebook group is filled with misguided zealots who reject living prophets in the name of honoring dead ones.

It is, in short, a pile of dung.

End rant.


An Anti-Clinton Rant

I planned to focus this rant focusing on policy, but the news that Monica Lewinsky is resurfacing to air her dirty laundry over at Vanity Fair got the Clinton pathogens in my blood boiling again.

Here’s the deal – I don’t care if you agree with his politics. I don’t care if you think he’s charming. The fact of the matter is that Bill Clinton is a repugnant person, and he should be shunned by decent human beings. He treats women with less dignity than what he scrapes off the bottom of his shoe.

I remember the 1990 Clarence Thomas hearings, wherein the then-nominee for the Supreme Court was accused of making crude remarks about public hair and Coke cans, talking about pornographic movies, and badgering a woman for dates. The single source who made these accusations was countered by a score of women who insisted that Thomas’s behavior was above reproach, and, at the time, opinion polls suggested that the American electorate overwhelmingly believed Thomas and not his accuser.

Democrats were furious.

This outrage led directly to what pundits called “The Year of the Woman,” which resulted in the election of two female senators from California and the election of perhaps the dumbest person, male or female, ever to serve in the U.S. Senate – I speak, of course,  of Patty Murray, Senator from Washington, who thinks Osama bin Laden built day care centers.

Four years later, I went to work for Senator Alan K. Simpson of Wyoming, who, as a senior member of the Senate Judiciary Committee,  questioned Anita Hill and poked significant holes in her story, which drew the ire of leftist women across the country. I spoke to many such women when I answered phones in Senator Simpson’s office. The message was that Simpson and other men “just didn’t get it,” and that a woman’s complaint of sexual harassment should be believed over the word of a boor like Clarence Thomas who was clearly just trying to cover his tracks.

The hypocrisy of this position in light of the left’s kamikaze defense of the Clintons is almost physically painful to contemplate.

Suppose, for instance, that everything Anita Hill said about Clarence Thomas was true. What would that mean? It would mean that Thomas spoke about a pornographic movie in a work environment, made a joke about a pubic hair being on a can of Coke, and badgered Anita Hill to go out with him. These are the actions of a boorish oaf. Such boorish oafishness, while certainly offensive, has a long way to go before it approaches Clintonesque behavior.

Clinton was first accused of rape in 1969 by a 19-year old English woman named Eileen Wellstone. Clinton admitted to the sex but said it was consensual, and, apparently, the Anita Hill standard that the woman is to be believed didn’t apply in 1969. Nor did that standard apply in 1972, when an unnamed 22-year-old woman made similar accusations to the Yale University police. These cases never went to court, which isn’t surprising, given the large number of rape cases that go unreported and unprosecuted today, when the legal environment is much more sensitive to the crime of rape than it was four decades ago.

But since then, the accusations have come from all quarters and from independent sources. Arkansas state troopers reported that seven different and unrelated women reported various sexual assaults by Bill Clinton over a period of decades. One of Clinton’s students when he taught at the University of Arkansas claimed that Clinton refused to let her leave the classroom and forcibly shoved his hand down her blouse.  A similar incident was reported by Kathleen Willey, who approached President Clinton in the Oval Office on the day her husband committed suicide, only to have the president forcibly place her hand on his erect penis. Feminist Gloria Steinem then wrote an op-ed piece insisting that Clinton should be praised for his the Willey incident because he stopped his sexual assault after that. (This became known as the “One Free Grope” rule.)

You know the names of some of the more famous Clinton accusers – Paula Jones, Kathleen Willey, and Juanita Broaddrick, who credibly claims Clinton raped her in 1978 – but there are many, many more that you probably don’t know.  The allegations have accumulated over a span of decades. They come from women of every education level and every socioeconomic class, although Clinton minion James Carville dismissed them all. “Drag a hundred dollars through a trailer park,” Carville said, “and there’s no telling what you’ll find.”

Just imagine if Alan Simpson had said something like that about Anita Hill – he’d have been tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail. But Bill Clinton is feted and adored by millions, and none of these accusations have done anything to tarnish his reputation, even after the man lied under oath about his relationship with Lewinsky – which was legally abhorrent, but mild in comparison to the kinds of behaviors that Clinton has been accused of over the years.

“But they’re just accusations,” I can hear a straw man say. “None of them have been proven in a court of law.”

Well, first of all, some of them have. In a tearful 60 Minutes interview with his faithful wife Hillary by his side, Clinton vigorously denied his affair with Gennifer Flowers, even after audio tapes of him and Flowers surfaced. Clinton later acknowledged that affair in his Paula Jones deposition.  His relationship with Lewinsky, about which he perjured himself in both the Jones deposition and his later grand jury testimony, is now a matter of record. And it’s hard to pay off Paula Jones with a high six-figure settlement and then claim that her accusations were a whole lot of nothing.

But, okay, fine. He’s not a convicted rapist. And I’m confident that some of the allegations against him are baseless. But,  Mr. Straw Man,  do really believe that all of them are?

Democrats who once told us that the singular accusation of boorish oafishness against Clarence Thomas was to be taken at face value, and all those who doubted Anita Hill’s story were lowlife scum. But the dozens of accusations against Clinton, who has provably lied under oath about his sexual misbehavior, should all be dismissed, and the man is the keynote speaker of a Democratic National Convention where the theme is that Republicans are engaged in a “war on women.” And the warriors supposedly fighting for women call Clinton’s victims trailer park trash.

The hypocrisy is enough to make you want to gouge your own eyes out with a handful of toothpicks.

As long as the Democratic party hails Bill Clinton as its champion, it has no moral authority on any subject whatsoever. Columnist George Will once said that Clinton was not our worst president, but he was the worst man ever to serve as president. Yet in two years,  he will likely become the worst person, male or female, to ever serve as the president’s spouse.

Heaven help us all.

A Prequel Rant

I’ve neglected this blog. I know I have. I feel just awful about it. Well, not really, but I ought to pretend I do.

I don’t want to abandon this blog. Yes, I write columns and such for the Deseret News, but I can’t let loose there the way I can here, and I don’t want to give this up. So how to get excited about writing here again?

Simple – I need to get a few good rants out of my system. That ought to be fun. (For me, anyway. Not sure if anyone else wants to read them, but you’re here, and no one’s holding a gun to your head. )

In my latest column, I compared “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” to the execrable Star Wars prequels, which I do not consider to be Star Wars movies. I called these films “miserable failure[s]” and dismissed the whole prequel trilogy as a “joyless, plodding mess.”

My column produced several comments, some from those who agreed with me, but also some from prequel apologists.  “Bennett was a little harsh me thinks on the Star Wars movies… All in all they were pretty good… Sure made a lot of money for being failures,” wrote goosehuntr from Tooele, Utah. Someone named vangroovin said “I like all six Star Wars movies. And I still enjoy watching them. I think the prequels were not as fantastic because you already knew the end result.” And Mike Johnson of Stafford, Virginia said “Interesting, a movie (Phantom Menace) makes over half a billion dollars and is called a ‘miserable failure.’”

Boy, those would be great blurbs on movie posters, wouldn’t they? Instead of “two thumbs up!” or “five stars!”, the posters would say “not as fantastic!” or “pretty good!” or “well, they made a lot of money, so, you know, that’s something, right?”

No. No, it isn’t something. They made a lot of money because there is an almost inexhaustible well of good will left over from the original trilogy, and everyone desperately wanted the prequels to be good or at least palatable.  With each new movie, everyone held out hope that the next prequel wouldn’t be as horrid as the last. And each time, those hopes were dashed, and now, in hindsight, it’s clear that there is nothing good about these movies.

I repeat: there is nothing good about the Star Wars prequels. Nothing. Nothing at all.

There are no redeeming features. There is no silver lining. There is nothing but missed opportunity, crushing disappointment, and Jar Jar Binks.

I will now argue with a straw man who disagrees.

“Oh, Stallion, but what about the cool lightsaber battle in Episode I between Darth Maul and Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon?”

It was bad.

“No, it wasn’t! It was so much cooler than anything in the original trilogy, where they couldn’t do all the flips and kicks and double-bladed saber stuff. ”

You’re right, they couldn’t. The very first lightsaber battle in “Star Wars” – I hate calling it “A New Hope” – featured an aged Alec Guinness up against Darth Vader, and nobody flipped once. In terms of pure gymnastics, it had nothing going on – but it was infinitely more compelling than a cluttered, noisy battle between cipher characters that didn’t matter. When Obi-Wan died, it meant something. When Darth Maul died, it only meant the movie was almost over – which was the best something that “Phantom Menace” had to offer.

“But what about all the cool visuals? The space battles? So much better than the originals, no?”


The original rebel attack run on the Death Star – pre CGI-cluttered Special Edition version – was fairly simple and straightforward, but you cared about the outcome, so you were on the edge of your seat the whole time. Compare that with the Episode III opener, which is a wildly complex, visually oppressive CGI assault on the senses with no other goal than to show how nifty it is. I don’t even remember what was supposed to be going on.

The prequels are nothing but visuals without context in the service of plots that don’t matter.

Allow me to illustrate with an illustration:

This is an album cover. It’s got all kind of weird images in it. Neat, huh? Well, maybe, if you like that sort of thing. None of these images are connected to any ideas that matter to me, so I don’t really care about them much. Why does the pyramid have eyes? Because it’s supposed to be cool that a pyramid would have eyes. Yeah, whatever.

All the prequel visuals come from the same self-indulgent hubris that produced this album cover. Funky ships and weird landscapes and quirky aliens are supposed to be applauded for their own sake, not because they matter.

Because they don’t matter. And neither do the prequels.

“Oh, but Stallion, you’re just put off because Jake Lloyd/Hayden Christensen/whoever wasn’t a very good actor.”


Anakin Skywalker: You are so… beautiful.
Padmé: It’s only because I’m so in love.
Anakin Skywalker: No, it’s because I’m so in love with you.
Padmé: So love has blinded you?
Anakin Skywalker: [laughs] Well, that’s not exactly what I meant.

What pair of actors, living or dead, could make that scene work? Go ahead – I’ll wait. But I don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere. Not like here. Here, everything is soft and smooth.

Fact is, the dialogue in these movies was impervious to talent. Whenever anyone quotes a Star Wars movie, they quote from the original trilogy – unless, like me, they’re trying to mock the prequels.

“Oh, but Stallion, the Clone Wars TV shows/novels/other crap are really good and have enhanced the prequel story.”

No, they haven’t. The plotline of anything connected to the prequels is doomed from the outset. The Clone Wars – the fictional wars in question, not the shows that use that as the title – were all a ploy by the Emperor to grant himself unlimited power. The outcome, then, is completely irrelevant – if either side wins, Palpatine wins regardless.  Battles in a pointless war are pointless themselves.

“But what about…”

Oh, shut up, straw man. I have defeated you utterly, and my defeat of you is even more significant than anything connected to the Star Wars prequels, which are not good and filled with badness. I’d rather breathe the bottled farts of a thousand eskimos than sit through “Attack of the Clones” one more time.

Well, that was fun. Next rant will be political, which may not be as fun.