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Like many of my peers, I learned to read at a young age. With access to extensive school programs, a luxurious public library, and a community surrounding me with similar interests, I was well on my way to advanced literacy. Frederick Douglass learned to read by trading his own slave-rationed-bread with young, white boys. He literally used each measly piece to purchase a new word from their lips. And yet, he became the most forth-wright and infamous speakers of the abolitionist movement - a man of intellectual and historical importance. A man who forces open my eyes to my own ungratefulness, forcing me to take on life more solemnly and perceptively. The benefits of our modern luxury can deaden us to the beauty of simple privileges - reading, writing, and even singing freely. In the slave-era, luxury and power shut slaveholders' eyes to the inhumanity of their barbarism. We try to ignore the fact that too recently in our nation's history these human privileges were violently snatched from so many innocent members of our populace...in the name of religion. The purest Christian religion, a religion that demands love for the poor, by the wants of temptations - luxury and power - can be turned into justification for the most unjust sanctions, allowing institutions and mechanisms plagued by evil to thrive. The putrid, pharisaicalness of the southern religion should be a solemn lesson for us all, as Douglass notes, "They [southern, pro-slavery Christians]...are represented as professing to love God whom they have not seen, but they hate their brother whom they have seen. They love the heathen on the other side of the globe...pay money to have the Bible put into his hand...while they despise, and totally neglect the heathen at their own doors" (100). The cruelty of this barbaric slave-economy-hellscape is something that terrifies me...as a Christian. How can men so religiously dedicated participate in such a vast contradiction to their belief? How can the preacher plunder the cradle (to use Douglass' phrase)? How can the deacon deeply disregard the dignity of an individual? We are tempted to write off these men as "lost causes," yet they read our same Bible, our same Luther, our same Calvin, our same Paul and turned into demons...cruel, unloving demons. Douglass is no optimist nor pessimist about the matter - he points it out as it is, sometimes prosaically and other time poetically, Christianity in America has failed many of its trials. We close our ears when we need to be listening and open our mouths when we need to shut up. We eschew progressiveness with unthinking dogmatism and eschew dogmatism when progressivism thrills the passion, failing to arbitrate with more sincere discernment. We must all lay prostrate before the King, begging Him for aid and comfort and guidance... ...may He establish our steps. Find this/other reviews on Author's Goodreads Profile

Hi, Being logical can be a turn-off in our political culture. I blame the high school debate kids for it. Everyone remembers recoiling each time the high school debate kid asked his audience to "riddle him this" in that self-exultant, manufactured tone (FYI: to qualify my fallacy, by "everyone" I mean everyone except the debate kid and his mom - thank you debate kid for picking up on this fallacy). My humble hypothesis is that American debate-kids did to logic what American millennials did to MySpace: they made us all sick and tired of it. Okay, I am totally joking (besides the millennial part, right? Hilarious, Dylan. - the coffee cup). Our American culture's interaction with logic might be more complex than what I let on. To get technical, principles of logic are built into the language; language is inseparable from logic. The law of contradiction is manifestly present when you explain to grandma why you do not like the purple sweater (i.e. you assume with that statement that it is not true that you do like it). The law of identity is just as stubborn when your wife blames you for clogging the toilet (and it is equally as present when I deny it). In that sense, yes, our culture is pretty logical. Humanity, being rational animals, finds itself reasoning through problems whether they like it or not (try unclogging the garbage disposal without an instruction manual). Americans do have a grasp on this. Therefore, a distinction is appropriate. When I speak about "being logical," I mean it in the sense of "reasoning well," not in the sense of the inevitable logic built into language. D.Q. McInerny in his book helps tease out what I mean, "Being logical...presupposes our having a healthy respect for the firm factualness of the world in which we live...a lively awareness of how the facts that are our ideas relate to the facts that are the objects in the world, for logic is about truth" (McInerny). Sure, one may wrangle with particularities for how his definition relates to epistemological assumptions (but McInerny is a metaphysician, so I will shut up). But this is aside the point. If we take the definition at face value, one will notice that to fulfill the rigor of the definition one cannot be a lazy thinker. It requires a lot of work to foster that "healthy respect" and "lively awareness" of the objectivity of the world around us. It requires understanding premises, conclusions, and the proper ordering of argumentation disbarring fallacious facades. The point of logic is to see reality, to work on removing the blinders to the reality of how things ought to be (it is for truth!). One does not simply get out of bed and reason with sincerity (insert Boromir meme). In many contexts of our lives, we may be very logical. My point is that in our politics culture we lack the discipline required to foster sincere, logical thinking. We are "baby talkers" to borrow a Postman's phrase. The examples are obvious: Voting has become a lost art more concerned with gaining political prestige of a sectarian position than considering the impact of your vote on society (treating others the way you want to be treated). Political positions are more concerned with emotional appeal than constructive policy action. One of my favorites is a large faction on the Right that wants to disestablish the impact of our government in localities by active stalling and controversy for its own sake within the system (this confused position needs to explain how becoming established in government to dis-establish government is a coherent idea; this is an alteration of using the ring of power to destroy the ring of power). Originally, my intent with the book Being Logical was to prime my mind for Trachtman's "The Tools of Argument: How the Best Lawyers Think, Argue, and Win." Legal thinking is an impending direction in my educational path that warrants sanguine pre-law preparation. Being Logical (the book) was a concise reminder of basic logic. For those versed with intermediate logic (such as truth tables, more elongated contrapositives, etc.), this book might be too simple. I dealt with most of these ideas when studying for my LSAT. This served as a reminder more than a teacher. However, for those seeking to establish a rudimentary understanding of the first principles of logic, conjunctive/disjunctive/conditional statements, categorical syllogisms, and formal/informal fallacies, this book will serve a valuable purpose. However, as I read this book, a solemn tune arose in my chest relating to our political culture. My thoughts documented above were more concentrated and established at the conclusion. At the turn of each page, the discomfort of having many in our political leadership so bereft of sincerity vociferously bubbled in the back of my mind. It saddens me that those whom we choose to lead us prey upon our people with (basic) logical fallacies. Is it our leaders' fault for being insincere or our peoples' fault for being emotionally driven to the disbarment of reason (or both)? Reason is distant to our politics (maybe it always was distant). Maybe we deserve this. Democratic republics will struggle to subsist without a healthy soil of rationality, and a sovereign people of laws will fall into passion and prejudice if they lack reason and virtue. I am convinced this shortcoming pervades both sides of the political aisle. Having more familiarity with the "Right-side," I am convinced it is just as strong (if not as strong) as the other side. Weirdly, this basic logic primer left a solemn tune in my thoughts. It is a bit of a tragedy that being logical is so discouraged in politics. We may laugh at the debate kid, but maybe he yearns for something deeply lacking but seriously needed in our law-based culture? I pray for improvement in our national reasoning and, as best I can try to eschew the illogical view of national cynicism toward our relations. In the tradition of Niebuhr, I try to accept the complexity of our human existence that, due to the limitations of our reason, we will never fully comprehend. Prayer and hope in God's grace, seem the best treatment for such multiplexity. N.B. I do not know what I am doing in these reviews anymore. I think they are more therapeutic and help me remember what I read. Thank you for joining me in therapy. z

Hey Charlies, I must commend you for your bravery in coming to this post. If I were you, I would shield my eyes from such provocations towards this literary genius (and, I am sure, a father for many of those fiction-writers). Understand this, you are being tested. To quote Dickens, you may be "bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape." It is possible that you come out of this as a better, more seasoned Charles Dickens fan (or not - I would hope for the worst). As stated in a related post, A Tale of Two Cities is a difficult product to swallow. Though the same prose and effervescence of Dickens' style are present, the final work is sour. Honestly, there is nothing wrong with structure or storytelling, A Tale of Two Cities is a well-written work. It contains all the proper ingredients to be a remarkable work of historical fiction, but the mixture sours in the final product. Reflecting upon this, the sour taste stems from a disagreement with the themes and perspective Dickens chose to pursue. First, it advances an overall approach to the French Revolution that is too ambiguous to the detriment of its characters, and, second, it employs the resurrection and sacrifice theme in a way that feels divorced from the larger context of the French Revolution. Approach to the French Revolution In reference to Dickens' approach to the French Revolution, context is key. Readers will appreciate that Dickens looks through a Victorian lens when examining the French Revolution, providing a unique perspective on this astonishing insurgency. Some find this perspective to be valuable in providing “an outsider” view towards the themes pervading revolutions in the same way someone enjoys monsieur Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America. The problem, however, is that the Victorian perspective is too simplistic and offers too little to comprise a book. It was predictably ambiguous in taking sides, trying to find the humanity on both sides while giving little ideological stalwartness. The book was anti-political, eschewing the worst of both sides whilst hoping for the best outcome. What follows is a simplistic distinction between evil members on “both sides” following a dismissal of the bad and an exoneration of the good. Aristocrats are either running over people with their chariots (literally – Darnay’s evil aristocrat uncle, Marquis does this) or are handsome, dashing men who are sympathetic to the “plebians” – falling in love with them as Charles Darnay did. It is too obvious and lacks the complexity vested within the aristocracy. Sure, some aristocrats were bad but why were some aristocrats good? Tradition, of course, is the answer, but why ought we keep tradition? Marquis de Evremonde is the worst argument for keeping any sort of tradition. But so is Charles Darnay. But do either even embody tradition responsibly? In the tale, tradition seems to collapse against the inevitable force of a revolution and, even those who survive, find no value in tradition and get lost in plebian sauce (for Darnay literally). Is tearing down the French aristocracy good? Dickens seems to say “well… yes… eventually” in his depiction of Sidney Carton’s idyllic view of France at the guillotine. This goes back to the ambiguous approach to revolutionary ideas: Dismiss the worst on both sides and hope for the best. Sorry, this is too simple. The reality is that both sides were morally confused – by golly, revolutions are morally confusing! When playing around with revolutionary ideas, the rottenness spreads to many. Revolutions are, figuratively speaking, humanity’s collective vomiting as they churn out sour ideas that do not work. They are not glorious at the time. During such insurgencies, all ideas are suspended in the air as people try to root out the evils. Everyone is scrambling, scrappy, and hungry for an ideological resolution to the revolutionary angst. When I started the book, I thought Dickens understood this when he said, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” But then Dickens downplays this historical reality as the book goes on to his detriment. He makes his main characters so archetypal against the background environment that they begin to lack humanity. Dickens digs his own grave with his character development since, in an attempt to humanize the “good” on both sides, he makes them angels devoid of any humanity at all – especially considering the morally tumultuous conditions of the revolution. If he had just stuck to that first line of the book, he could have set up a perfect environment for character development. But as is natural from neglecting the tumultuous environment, there is no deep-seated inner conflict as characters reconcile the true, ideological battles of the revolution. As Darnay gets close to the guillotine, I was astonished that the many contradictions of the revolution were not mused upon or that Darnay, formerly sympathetic to the cause, would begin to “miss” the order of the old aristocracy. Nope. With superficial reflection, he mourns not seeing Lucie. Along with a host of critics, I would press that Dickens’ characters are “flat” due to the poor utilization of one of the most famous revolutionary insurgencies. Keeping it simple with revolutions does not always work in the development of characters. Ultimately, he does not discuss the revolution in too much depth. We know it is happening and that it is impacting the characters, but we do not grasp the inner struggle beyond the inconvenience of political upheaval. He could have chosen any revolution, but why this one? The question is not answered. If anything, the French revolution functions as an obnoxious problem child doing somersaults in the background of a more pressing display, baiting the audience to guess when this child will inevitably crash onto the scene and almost ruin everything (as happened with Darnay being captured by revolutionaries). The anti-political ambiguity dampens the impact of history on the fiction story. To be more specific, consider Charles Darnay’s development. At the outset, Darnay, in the horror of the aristocratic injustices, is running away from his uncle's aristocratic morality (even changing his name from Evremonde – oh my!). Some might argue that this is virtuous in the revolutionary struggle. But is it? Is it virtuous to run away from one’s identity, attempt to amend family’s wrongdoing by simply apologizing, and then opt for a “romantic” escape with one’s lover after having someone sacrifice their life for you? Escapism is no virtue and is not worthy of heroism. When Darnay is captured and sentenced to get his head chopped off, I was excited to watch his character develop and deepen. Alas, I thought, Dickens will deepen this Darnay! But then Darnay escapes while Sidney Carton takes his place, thwarting an opportunity for Darnay to ripen as an individual. Disappointed, I craved the tempest of inner conflict where Darnay comes to terms with his aristocratic identity and rises above the childish love for Lucie, emerging as a new man. A man like Alexey who, in The Brothers Karamazov, transcends both the loving Father Zossima and the negative Karamazov surname (brought upon by his scoundrel father and brother) to become a renewed man for which we enrapture "Hurrah Karamazov!" I did not cheer for Darnay’s salvation, but not because he did not deserve it. I did not cheer because not much came from it. There were no works that came from Carton's sacrifice. Darnay abdicated his duty to explore his identity and fit such identity in the course of this revolution. Sleeping with his lover and naming his child after Sydney is not enough. Darnay's character lacked a depth reflective of this historical context. Darnay’s lover is another example of a flat character deadened against the revolutionary background. The revolution was a chance for women to voice their concerns in history, finding a political voice in a system designed for men. Once again, the background of the revolution is richly suited to produce memorable characters. Yet Dickens uses cookie-cutter archetypes, making Lucie Manette the simple, faithful lover that is constantly gentle and perfect, even to rude men seeking her hand. Is this even believable? In the real world, women, like men, must also struggle to achieve the standards of virtue. They must pave their way and wrangle with the consequence of their failures. They have individual agency to pursue such a moral journey. But notice, all of Lucie’s character developments were fueled by grievances caused by other men. She is always attached to or ameliorating struggles that are from men. There is no personal vice she wrestles with (unless you count being obnoxiously supportive of those you love a vice) or problem she causes out of her own failed use of her free will. She is a cog supporting the wheel of the male characters. By making Lucie this way, Dickens effectively removes any personal struggle from her agency. Once again, is this even believable? But much more, is this desirable for storytelling? Compare Lucie to characters like Grushenka in The Brothers Karamazov (I reference this book a lot). Grushenka had a personal hand to play in her misfortune, having troubles caused by her vices, not by other men. There is an agency ascribed to Grushenka and she has a chance to earn our respect as with any other male character. Thus, when Grushenka starts to find a love in Dimitri that is soon interrupted, I mourn with her! And when she begins to find peace from her troubles from her vices, I can empathize. When Lucie Manette faces trouble, I feel a detached pity that does not truly grab at my emotions. As far as I am concerned, Sydney Carton comes closest to expressing the complex humanity I find lacking in Dickens' book. But the themes Sydney embodies lead me to the final trouble I have with the book… Dickens Utilization of Sacrifice/Redemption Themes As mentioned above, it is certainly possible that Dickens was employing Sydney Carton as a Christ archetype who sacrifices his life for Darnay to plant the seeds of idyllic morality in the new French Republic. There are other complex angles we can take. One might see a parallel to Christ as the French revolutionaries kill one of their own (Carton) and his blood goes onto their children for the future of an idyllic France. Yes, Dickens is quite Biblical at times (me-thinks he was writing with an eye to the radical Christians across the Atlantic who celebrated him vehemently). Yet Sidney Carton's motive for sacrifice seemed more directed towards clearing his name than enabling justice to be served. When Christ died, certain powers holding the goyim (pagan nations) were broken. There was a universal explosion as the powers of darkness were defeated at the cross. The kingdom not seen with eyes was established in the hearts of those who would believe. Yet intertwined with this breaking of the powers that held back Gentiles from coming to God, there was the forgiveness of sins – for Jews and Gentiles in Christ! Remarkable! Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection brought reconciliation, new life, and power (Holy Spirit). Does this bear similarity to Sydney Carton’s sacrifice? It is hard to say – at some points it is comparable such as when Carton idyllically muses, “…the evil of this time and of the previous time of which this is the natural birth, gradually making expiation for itself and wearing out.” There seems to be a redemptive aspect. Yet, this can all be interpreted as Carton’s attempt to clear his name. Furthermore, Christ knew his purpose that he must suffer. Sydney Carton just figured it out at the last minute, hustling in an almost adrenalin-fueled rescue mission to reclaim a personal honor. On the contrary, once again, Christ was not motivated for personal gain, but as St. Paul expresses, “Though he was equal with God, he did not count equality with God as something to be grasped but humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, yes, even death on a cross” One might also note that the guillotines symbolize a divorce from a national tradition where no attempt is made to bring anything together juxtaposed to the cross where God desires to save the world because He loves the world and wants to rescue them (John 3). The idyllic France Carton views play off none of these themes sincerely. This is why Carton’s sacrifice does not sit well and, while undoubtedly heroic, only links to the French Revolution in the future he envisions. I suppose my conclusion is that if Dickens was using this theme of sacrifice/redemption (which I am becoming more convinced that he was not), then it was poorly employed. And if he was not, then the event of Carton’s death stands aloof from the deeper struggles of the French revolution. It does not satisfy the “historical” side of the fiction. Once again, my “Charlies,” I think Dickens will go down as one of the greatest writers. Though it was the worst book I read this year – it still is a decent book. It pains me that Dickens landed at the bottom since I have much respect for his work. Candace Owens' book is 100 steps beneath A Tale of Two Cities. It was a book among the worst because it was a book among the best to my taste. It was a tale that yielded great wisdom, but one in which I despaired at the development of its characters and themes in the background of such tumultuous event in history. So keep your head up "Charlies," Dickens had better days.

Candace Owens is not one to cower amidst controversy, neither is she unsuited to fashion tumults after her own causes. For avid supporters, the tenacious disagreeableness of Candace Owens is merely the fruit of an ideological insistency and consistency amidst a public square hostile to her political framework. Surely, such Candace aficionados muse, the conservativism of Candace Owens is a natural catalyst in a society wrought by progressive ideals hostile (the key word) to the interest of America; Candace Owens stands as a wall against the violent immigration of un-American and idiotic triumphs seated within “The Left”. Her book is comprised of chapters that detail the conservative perspective on separate philosophical, socioeconomic issues in American politics. She has chapters "On Property," "On Education," etc. so that it reads like a less-exhaustive version of John Locke's Two-Treatises of Government. She dives headfirst into the most controversial topics, having discussions that range from socialism to racial issues in hopes of showing how left-leaning Democrats are actually working contrary to the interests of the black community. The point of the book is to offer both a conservative perspective to black voters who are registered Democrat and persuade black voters (and anyone else along for the ride) to "blackout" of the liberal/leftist faction and become conservative (and vote for Trump the Republican). She places a weighty burden upon herself and maybe the weight of this burden explains her downfall. She seeks to address property theory, Marxism, racial issues, affirmative action, the effects of slavery, the effects of Jim Crow, and many other pressing matters in a measly 300 pages. She is also trying to both convince people to leave the Democratic Party and vote Republican (these are two separate claims). Nonetheless, does she meet the burden? My verdict: absolutely not. Black democrats should not be persuaded to leave the party and I would urge them to seek better arguments elsewhere. This book rambles like a manifesto, and, to put it bluntly, does not belong in the genre of political science. Overall, if it were incumbent upon me to recommend a non-exemplary work from the contemporary conservative movement – her book would surely make the list. Below I will explain three shortcomings that contribute to her inability to write a coherent case which are summed up as follows: 1) she presents strawmen/caricatures of her opponents' views and thus offers no serious engagement to their ideas. 2) Her arguments are sloppy and, at times, outright contradictory as she allows unargued for assumptions/anecdotes to pervade her book. 3) She fails to connect the ideas in her book to any sort of conservative political philosophy. Before continuing spelling these out in depth, it must be said that I am strictly concerned with demonstrating shortcomings in her political views, not her personhood (as has become popular in the news). Candace has both a right to be wrong and controversial. Clearly, such wrongness and disagreeableness ought not insulate her from criticism. Even more so, it also ought not license detractors to assassinate her character by ignobly surmising into unstated motivations. Surely, people like Owens are allowed to be dignified individuals even though they are seriously and unequivocally mistaken. This leads to Owens' first problem. As hinted at above, she does not ascribe charity to the viewpoints of her own political opposition and her arguments possess little professional respect for great intellectual sophistication of those that sternly disagree. The chief way she showcases this is in the failure to properly cite any of her detractor’s views in proper context. She claims to argue against feminism but never distinguishes between the different waves, philosophical flavors, or individual philosophers – never even footnoting her opposition in context. In academia, one would not get past the editors. Yet with Owens, such is commonplace with her unthinkably broad endeavor of covering some of the most complex political topics in a mere 300 pages. To the point, in one chapter she affirms that Dr. King's dream was realized, and that Democrats were “race-baiting hustlers” akin to the “ravenous wolves” Jesus mentions in the Bible. First of all, it is simply inappropriate and ridiculous to name-call your opponents with no evidence or specific citations of the case. Tangentially, it is theologically confused to assert that people who might support affirmative action or some other, race-based progressive measures fit into this passage. In context, Jesus literally says, “Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.” (Matthew 7:15, emphasis added) Why does she feel the need to alienate people who disagree with her? Many Christians support policies such as affirmative action out of conviction to help those who were historically discriminated against get on sound footing. Are these Christians “ravenous wolves” or “race-baiters” because they disagree with Candace Owens’ (ridiculously) short analysis of the impact of Jim Crow and slavery? This details the little respect she has for those who disagree with her. In terms of Dr. King’s dream being fulfilled, are we seriously to believe this because Candace Owens told us so? She presents no argument against contemporary historiography examining the impact of Jim Crow and slavery. She does not engage with any contemporary author in context and lumps them all into one blob of "race-baiters." Her claim that Dr. King's dream has been realized is also strange since, at the same time, she laments that affirmative action goes against the dream of Dr. King. Which one is it? This leads to the second shortcoming involving her poor argumentation. There are plenty of headscratchers due to some seemingly out of place argumentation. Take this quote by Candace for example, “Liberalism is defined as a political philosophy based on liberty and equality before the law…I will make an argument that liberalism has only ever been practiced by conservatives in this country” So, pause for a moment, her point is that self-proclaimed conservatives are actually more liberal in political philosophy? While I might agree with this assessment for different reasons (most conservatives don’t realize that they usually quote thinkers, John Locke for example, who are philosophically liberal), this does not make sense amidst her broader argument of getting people to “blackout” of the liberal, Democratic Party and join the (barely) conservative, Republican Party. A more fundamental distinction between liberalism and conservativism involves the role of individualism in the broader societal framework, yet this is disparate, and it is difficult to find meaningful discussion of such. Throughout the book, she seems to speak of certain virtues that she assumes (such as personal responsibility) without providing any argumentation or definition. I have much appreciation for many of the anecdotes she talks about her life. The problem is, however, that such stories begin to smuggle in values that are not argued for. Her argumentation assumes many values and ideas. Typically, this is fine if you are honest about your presuppositions. But with such honesty, one understands the limitations of their work. Yet she blows past this concern. For example, in her chapter against socialism she dedicates scant discussion on what actually constitutes property. How can you discuss socialism, property, or any other American issue without addressing the philosophical question of property? (Hint: you cannot if you are serious about this stuff). Unstated or unargued for assumptions along with out of place anecdotes are let loose in her book and contribute to her poor argument. Also, the greater irony is that many values she assumes are mostly liberal ideas rather than conservative. This leads to the last shortcoming. The last shortcoming involves her inability to tie her ideas to true, philosophical conservativism. She seems to be out of touch with the philosophy and has confused it with Republicanism or classical liberalism. She treats conservativism like a "common-sense" dictate that reasonable people in history have always grasped. Take this quote for example, “Conservativism then is about sense and survival. Leftism is the plaything of a society with too much time on its hands” Like I said, Candace treats conservativism as common-sense principles that are the obvious, unchanging choice for those wanting to be reasonable. However, Candace overlooks that many of the values we “conserve” today were progressive for their times. She forgets that conservatives have to play around with concepts and divorce from other ones in hopes of better establishing our scruples. That is literally a conservative scruple as conservative philosopher Roger Scruton notes, “Modern conservativism arose as a defense of the individual against political oppressors, and an endorsement of popular sovereignty” (Scruton – Conservativism: An Introduction to the Great Tradition). Being a “plaything” of society is at the heart of where conservative comes from. Having the time to reflect upon tradition, society, bottom-up, arose to challenge the prevailing idea of such singular political oppressors and, in the name of such tradition, allow those who disagree to have their own playthings as well. Conservativism embodies the wise notion that, though we have way of “sense and survival,” we might be missing out on other forms that we ought to conserve (and thus reform our own). Therefore, we ought to allow certain views to freely pervade our institutions predicated upon reforming some tradition. As Edmund Burke famously said, “We must reform in order to conserve.” Ironically, it is very "not conservative" of Candace Owens to demonize her opponents in the way she does and utilize lofty plantation rhetoric to bully detractors. She needs to establish a conservative philosophy she ascribes to. If she fails to do this, she limits herself to sounding like a manifesto. Overall, Owen’s disingenuous engagement with her opponents, failure to seriously substantiate her major claims by allowing weighty assumptions/anecdotes, and lack of serious engagement with broader ideals places her book among the worst this year. The irony is that I might agree with some parts (very little) of this book. Yet even in the parts I agree with, they are so poorly argued so as to outshine her main point. Without her ostentatious verbiage and political humor, the book is a poorly written argument for her brand of conservativism.

Hey, I read a lot of books this year. Last I counted, 50 books lined my 2022 "completed" book pile. Now, to the greedy bookworm, intellectual types who want to boast of book piles larger than mine, please cut me some slack. Unlike certain former presidents, I do not possess the innate ability to read every large volume in my collection in one night (and in one sitting). I am forced to confine my rate to about one book every 10 days. And yes, for those trying to make me feel better, I have considered incorporating Dr. Suess into my academic interests to (hopefully) speed up my abysmal reading rate. However, it seems his scholarship has disappeared entirely from the bookshelves. No matter how hard I try, I cannot obtain a copy of Scrambled Eggs Super for my intellectual delight. But 50 books are enough for me. Indeed, all this reading has allowed me to further develop my likes and dislikes in scholarship/literature so that, in the spirit of such, I have decided to list some books that I found to be dissatisfactory in hopes of stirring conversation (not controversy). Obviously, I disagree with many parts of these books since, as it goes with reading a lot of serious literature, you tend to disagree seriously (a lot). Yet it is important to grasp that mere disagreement does not make a book bad per se. At most, disagreement opens up one's nostrils to the scent of fishy scholarship or plot formulation. Yet one will notice that my critique of these books goes further than disagreement. Rather, I dig into what I see as serious misuses of key ideas, concepts, or logical argumentation in each author's stories or philosophy. Authors and intellectuals need this type of criticism. Honest, sincere criticism is the heartbeat of intellectual growth and ideological ascendancy. Without such criticism, the thinking men and women among us will shrivel into a cocoon of ideological rigidity intermixed with confirmatory reasoning that deadens their appeal. In short, criticism makes us better thinkers and allows us to surmount challenges that spur our minds toward the pursuit of the truth and reality as bequeathed (and set) by God above. We must not allow the writers of our time or the works of the past to escape such benefits of constructive criticism! For those optimists who enjoy watching the fight from the outside and anxiously crossing your fingers for the best, first of all, thank you for being here. I promise to post some of the best books I read in 2022 later this week. But for now, sit back and open those nostrils wide as I detail the worst books within my 2022 book-catalogue (click the links below for full reviews). #1: Blackout by Candace Owens Having caught a lot of wind from “The Right’s” exoneration of Candace Owen’s bullish politics (to put it lightly), it seemed appropriate to explore her political framework and examine the political philosophy responsible for her stalwart vivacity. This led me to Blackout, the written apotheosis of her political ideals. After reading her treatise, I found no justification for her controversial approaches. The book was subpar. Indeed, if it were incumbent upon me to recommend a non-exemplary work from the conservative movement – her book would surely make the list. Blackout suffers in three areas: it presents strawmen/caricatures of her opponents' views, it is contradictory at times and possesses poor reasoning through complex ideas, and, lastly, it fails to clearly connect itself to any sort of historic, conservative political philosophy. It rambles like a manifesto, and, to put it bluntly, does not belong in the genre of political science. Owen’s disingenuous engagement with her opponents, failure to seriously substantiate her major claims, and lack of serious engagement with broader ideals places her book on this list. These deficiencies (sadly) outshine some of the redeemable aspects of her work. To read my full, in-depth critique of her work where I explain those three shortcomings in depth...please click HERE #2 A Tale of Two Cities – Charles Dickens Dear “Charlies” (my makeshift word for Dickens stans), I apologize for the difficulty I am about to put you through. Charles Dickens is undoubtedly a brilliant writer with the pristine ability to tickle the mind with verbosity and profound narrative. Interpret this critique as a testing of your tenaciousness rather than a mal-intended blow to Dickens’ ascendancy (and your tendency to be tickled). Indeed, as said above, Dickens is a master of his craft. He is verbose and effectively preys upon the readers' neglect of subtle details to bring about delightful (or terrifying) outcomes. However, A Tale of Two Cities is a difficult product to swallow. Though the same prose and effervescence of Dickens' style are present, the final work is sour. Honestly, there is nothing wrong with structure or storytelling, A Tale of Two Cities is a well-written work. I feel guilty placing it on the same list as Candace Owen’s gasconade-of-a-book. It is nowhere near as bad. It contains all the proper ingredients to be a remarkable work of historical fiction, but the mixture sours in the final product. Reflecting upon this, the sour taste stems from a disagreement with the themes and perspective Dickens chose to pursue. Unlike Owens, who suffers from deficient prose and abysmal argumentation, A Tale of Two Cities is well-written but advances a perspective that I think is misguided. Two problems particularly catch my eye. First, A Tale of Two Cities advances an overall approach to the French Revolution that is too ambiguous to the detriment of its character development and, second, it employs the resurrection and sacrifice theme in a way that feels divorced from the larger context of the French Revolution. To read full, in-depth review click HERE

The joy of reading Hume rests in his ability to arouse avidity in age-old, inchoate discussions of faith, reason, and experience. At the very least, his ideas ought to spur a mawkish unity of readers as we embark upon another exploration of our existence. Hopefully, we are brought together in our heuristic pursuits rather than pitted against each other in pure dogmatic indignation (though sometimes dogmatism is necessary). But enough of the sentimentalism, what of Hume's enquiry is worth writing about? As a background, Hume's epistemology is typically characterized as a mixture of indirect realism and skepticism. Though he asserts that our sensory faculties perceive real objects (outside of the mind), he also admits that it is not possible to rationally defend such assertion. This is because, as one commentator puts it, "in Hume's view...it is a mistake to demand rational justifications for all our beliefs; [for Hume,] many (perhaps all) of our beliefs are the product of ineradicable instincts, rather than reason" (Epistemology Contemporary Readings, Huemer 31). It is interesting to see his earlier discussion on experiences, customs, and inferences find coherency with these latter comments. It was provoking to think that our perceptions are copies of things we see, grounded in custom rather than reason. I found this observation fun to think about and provoking for discussion. However, I was not impressed by his discussion on miracles since it neglects a proper, probabilistic calculus of miracles (obviously, Hume did not have contemporary probability formulations - so he receives some grace). Take the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth as an example. Many erudite Christian philosophers opine upon this in length, yet even a casual reader might notice that Hume, when discussing miracles, makes background experience more authoritative than in earlier chapters. Earlier, he insists that what we see as a cause is merely a conjoining of two events or a coincidence that we, through experience and custom, understand as a casual power. Would we not then be limited by that which is customary? Yet, when he talks about miracles, he establishes that, even with the limitation of experience, we are able to comprehend a uniformity in nature. Many have remarked that Hume "shoots himself in the foot" by making authoritative a method of reasoning he has given reason to cast doubt upon. However, Hume finds experience to be sufficient so much so that the uniformity of experience represents “a direct and full proof, from the nature of the fact, against the existence of the miracle.” Men always die, therefore, there is proof against the fact that one lives. Further, for the testimony to be credible, it would have to be even more miraculous (contravening against uniform experience as well). Hume finds this to be self-defeating. After impugning the testimonies per se of those eyewitnesses, concluding that a more naturalistic explanation (such as they deluded themselves) is more probable based on those factors, Hume argues against a rational belief in miracles. Aside from making background experience too weighty, Hume bypasses a proper probability calculation. Sure, our background experience may show a uniformity of nature, yet this neglects the discussion of the explanatory power of the resurrection hypothesis that involves God's existence (which Hume does not outright address here). If one denies/accepts God, they have to argue for such when considering the explanatory power of the resurrection hypothesis - to circumvent this would leave the discussion unfinished. In this proper analysis, Hume must further provide a coherent naturalistic account of this event that must be weighed against the hypothesis discussed above (think of this as the denominator "y" in a probability of "x/x+y"). It might be true that we have not experienced miracles in our background customs, but this does not deal with the specific evidence, the explanatory power of a certain hypothesis, or the validity of a naturalistic explanation. Hume's naturalistic explanation was that they were deluded, but does this explain the fact that the body of Jesus was never found when both Gentile authorities and Jews put him to death? If they were deluded, and both prevalent authorities had a hand in his death, why not parade his corpse around to make them see (as they did with other "Messiahs")? If you find yourself answering that objection, then it shows that more discussion is needed for Hume's naturalistic explanation. It is, at best, incomplete. I was a but shocked at his somewhat fallacious attempt to impugn the credibility of the resurrection testimony because Second Temple Jews were, in his words, "barbaric". This sounds like a genetic fallacy and, though an interesting observation the early believers' psychology, is not sufficient to discredit their testimony. Overall, this was a provoking book that helped me think deeper about my perception of the world. Though I find myself grappling against much of Hume's arguments, it has helped deepen my understanding of the difficulties in epistemology.

Neil Postman’s nonfiction book, Amusing Ourselves to Death (1986) has recently impacted my worldview. The depth and swiftness of this impact baffles me. This text informs who I am trying to be. Postman argues that the epistemological functions of television are not only insufficient but harmed by the medium’s tendency to both appeal to emotions and subsequently revoke appeal to logic and reason. He elaborates the fundamental influence content mediums have on their cultures. The success of Printing Press produced a typographical society. The successes of telegram and radio have produced a culture where information move unrestrained by space. Television has produced a society that largely depends on sounds and images for information but confuses information with the entertainment they consume from the same picture-box. This is not the fault of humanity – even “serious information” on TV bears the marks of entertainment which is tailored by TV producers in response to audiences’ preference to be entertained. It seems that TV is unfit as a medium for serious information, but America before and after the 1980s relies on TV above all other content mediums for serious information. The result is an uninformed and harmed society which relies on TV as the insufficient harbinger of values – Politics, Current Events, Society, and moral values are all filtered through entertainment. Neil Postman’s son Andrew Postman republished this book in 2006; it occurred to him at the eclipse of The Age of Television that the dual advent of internet and smartphones further illuminated the book’s value. This book may be subjected to several judgments. Neil’s tone seems condescending at times. His confidence in his word appears supercilious. The text and examples are dated by the book’s original time of writing. But most of his commentary appears to me to be worse than correct. It is applicable to the current social moment – my sitting in a hall, typing this on a screen, with another screen occupying my pocket. The Television screen has shrunk to entertain us beyond our living rooms. It dwells in our pocket – following us so that we are never alone. Musician Bo Burnham wrote that today, “Apathy is a tragedy and boredom is a crime.” (Inside, “Welcome to the Internet). We are better equipped now than ever for the hellish disintegration of our own intellectualism as a society. We are amusing ourselves to death. I first encountered the text at the recommendation of an admirable peer. In spite of better counsel, I delayed ordering the book for excuses X, Y and Z. When my first quarter at UCLA began; however, it delighted me: finding the book on the syllabus for my communications class. I have attended the book’s council like a disciple. Perhaps the velocity of its influence is explainable – I enjoy the professor who assigned it and I admire my peer who suggested it. Nevertheless: baffled. My experience with this piece informs conclusions on my pseudointellectual campaign towards real intellectualism. The book tells me I am voluntarily demolishing my brain and grasp of reality. I react. I employ self-discipline in my phone usage – to the detriment of many relationships which rely on the connection my phone has furnished our relationships with. My response elucidates my desire to be a great reader and writer – I’m reading more in the aftermath of my complete reading. It furnishes my desire for Reason which I referenced in my About Me page on this website. This particular media form demands a public reaction. It is a sermon beyond the value of the heightened understandings of society, politics, and culture which is generated by adherence to typography. This is a fire-sermon against the way technology bends our understanding. It is affirmed by the passage of time. It demands a reaction unless we decide, perhaps within our preference for it, to amuse ourselves. To Death.

Divided We Fall is divided into three parts: a diagnosis of national polarization, a demonstration of the danger of polarization, and a solution to ameliorate national division. Part I & II David French’s diagnosis of American polarization is well-researched and certainly plausible. He argues that conflict is geographical – pointing to the divide between red and blue states with the (obvious) reason being that state sub-cultures are different and fueled by geographic separation. It is hard to deny that Los Angeles has vastly different sub-cultures than Dallas. Simple enough. Further, sub-cultures tend towards the general state culture (red or blue). This means that Californians (even gun-owning ones) will struggle to understand Tennessean gun culture, and Tennesseans (even pro-sanctuary state ones) will struggle to understand the extent of immigration sentiment pervading the Golden State. This alone is not problematic for French. In line with the Founder’s tradition (Federalist No. 10 specifically), he recalls the Madisonian philosophy, “liberty is to faction as air is to fire” (Federalist No. 10). Faction is fine – it means liberty is in play. States can have groups of passionate people, even if they tend generally towards a side of the aisle. However, French presses that general state factions have become unhealthy. Taking a lesson from the Civil War, he argues that modern state factions tend towards a factor that served to split the North and South during the mid-1800s: “an unreasonable fear of violence [of the other side]” (42). In the South's case, it was a fear of the North. Today, it is cast in terms of the right and left. But French muses that both sides have a deeply radical and untrue view of each other which fuels this unreasonable fear. Partly due to mass media, people typically engage with the most extreme persons on each side (when each extreme side accounts for less than 10% of our national political makeup). The result: “We define ourselves by opposition. We’re united by loathing” (French 85). For French, polarization has escalated to a boiling point. The window of acceptable dialogue has not shifted but split into two. There are now two Overton windows, one for the right and one for the left. Therefore, there is no dialogue since each side is dismissed as unacceptable. This is not just a left-leaning problem. When Kaepernick kneeled during the pledge of allegiance, the Republican party leader (Trump) went so far as to suggest that Kaepernick be discriminated against for his 1st amendment activity. What? How can he say this while in the same breath assuring pastors of religious freedom in the public square? This is not mere cognitive dissonance, but a deeper problem showing that the Overton window now forbids certain dialogue. Freedom of expression was stretched beyond the limits of Right's window. They missed the point because it was unacceptable. So how do repair polarization? How to make our two windows into (at least) a Venn Diagram. French shows an abundance of wisdom at this point in the book. He accepts that readers on the Right and left will shut his diagnosis down as petty pandering to unify with enemies or try to blame the other side for polarization (and people still leave book reviews doing just that ha!). People are caught up in a will for power over solidarity. People will continue to insist that their political opponents are enemies. Both sides will turn a blind eye to the similarities and dismiss the other side. Thus, he prefaces that his solution will embody realism above the idyllic musing of most pundits. But before presenting his solution, he provides some hypotheticals in part II that demonstrate the risks of polarization (national secession). For prolixity, these will not be discussed here since they merely establish his general point practically. Review of Part I & II I think part I is an excellent diagnosis of national partisanship. I would urge all readers to frequent his discussions on negative polarization. However, I would have liked to see an analysis that deals with Republican/Democrat sentiment across state lines. Do Californian Republicans lean more left than Alabaman Republicans? Are the political emphases different or the same for each group across states? The general inquiry is whether regional polarization is as strong as national party polarization. If it turns out, for example, that a regional blueness bends the red opponents in that region towards the blue majority – that could be an interesting factor. But overall, his discussion about the dual Overton Window in our politics was particularly illuminating. Truly, the quixotic cultural practices of one region are not even on the radar of far-off regions. But now people cast it existentially - everyone must culturally function in a way similar to their own. This was a point I was excited to see him address in his solution. Before moving on to Part III, I want to discuss briefly one more point. Namely, how increasing emphasis on political identity exacerbates polarization. I cannot address this in depth due to prolixity, but find it to be a fruitful point. Namely, people come to see other people by partisan affiliation. This is such a demeaning aspect of polarization that has many implications - why have we allowed politics to transcend the deeper aspect of individuality? I encourage readers to check it out since I will not write on it. Part III Now we proceed to French's solution. Off the bat, French says some “no-no” words that many conservatives are sure to quickly dispel in one of their boring soap-box speeches about leftism. Indeed, too many book reviews have already done this. Instead, I hope we can take French's argument as he intends it and ignore the soapbox sonnet. The first no-no word French drops on us is tolerance. Now, do not get me wrong, tolerance has been hijacked by many to mean “inclusivity for those whom I like.” But let us not get confused. French is not arguing for those wacky applications. Rather tolerance is “respect or kindness for people toward people who are out of [my] group...[t]he word ‘tolerance’…implies that there is something to tolerate” (French 186). If someone says something you do not like, you cannot shut them up or disrespect them as a person. It applies to "out-groups" and not "in-groups." The idea is simple but the application is lacking in our country. But tolerance alone is not sufficient to solve the polarization. It is only the virtue that grounds a greater framework. Now we meet no-no word no.2: pluralism. I can already hear the soapbox speeches in my ears. But on a second glance, these railings against tolerance express profound naivete toward French's idea. Pluralism is a fruit of the founding philosophy, an idea that conservatives can identify with and argue for within the tradition. It is nestled within the Madisonian way of thinking (Federalist No. 10). French is not reading a Kimberly Crenshaw essay to extrapolate this idea - he is reading the original framers. And he uses pluralism and tolerance to advance an extremely conservative, political mechanism: Madisonian federalism. He emphasizes a return to a Madisonian, “healthy federalism.” He defines it as follows, “Under healthy federalism, American citizens would enjoy guaranteed civil liberties that didn’t vary from state to state and they would enjoy a much greater degree of social control…public policy would be variable, customized for local interests” (215). So, think of pre-civil war federalism minus slavery, religious establishment problems, discrimination against women, and other such issues that were later incorporated into the states with the 14th amendment. Essentially, states are in total control of all public policy outside the federal protection of individual rights and laws concerning such. To exemplify, think of immigration policy. French discusses Arizona and California sanctuary state laws to illustrate the distinction. Both states advanced or inhibited the crackdown (respectively) against illegal immigration. When Arizona’s laws reached the supreme court, Kennedy (delivering the majority opinion) concluded that Arizona could not even make complementary policy to federal policy. In short, if AZ wanted to make laws that even complement federal priorities on immigration – suck it up – you cannot. This minimizes the role of the state outside of the Founding view for French and gives the federal government complete control over a matter that requires some social control. French agrees with Scalia (who dissented in part). And presses that “[t]he Founders recognized that America wasn’t a single sovereign entity but rather a unified nation comprising multiple districts and different states with their own sovereign interest” (220-21). The ultimate idea is that “[t]he federal government is supreme, but in the absence of conflict of federal law, the states have considerable discretion to fashion their own policies” (221). Proper federalism would give discretion to the state for issues not relevant to the national legislature, to issues outside of the Constitutional guidelines. Now blow this distinction up to any issue outside of federal control. This is the original, conservative idea. Localized social control with broad federal oversight of individual liberties. Sounds very neat in theory. My inner conservative impulse cannot help but smile. To exemplify again with immigration, one would not petition the federal government to change immigration law for the whole country, but only to their local government for their state. Beautiful. But French breaks the bad news, “…a return to federalism is not on the table. The drive for domination is still too strong, and the hopes of domination are still high” (222). So, how do we return to federalism if human nature is weak? French argues that it would take an extreme event that divorces federal involvement from localized issues. Of course, he places his bets on California. How? If California goes through in creating a single-payer healthcare system (which he shows is extremely plausible), California could completely sever a tie between the federal government. Indeed, a single-payer system would diminish federal financial connections since the 200-billion-dollar Medicaid and Medicare premiums would no longer serve as federal revenue. This progressive move could shift the state to extensive self-governance, separating itself from the federal inquisition in healthcare. French himself shudders at the thought of a single-payer system (and so do I, as a Californian) but the point still stands. This would be a separation from the government's social control in such an extreme way, that the federal government has no substantial recourse. California, with its robust economy and populace, is a state that could seriously tip the balance. And, French argues, once California does it, what is to stop everyone else? Precedent has been set – healthcare is localized – pandora’s box is fully open for stronger state governance for all social issues. From this, pluralism can thrive since California can do more (crazy) California things and the federal government is no longer a tool to infringe upon state governance. But this applies to all states. Tennessee too can do (less crazy) Tennessean things and so on. In short, the Madisonian solutions of pluralism supplemented by political virtue of tolerance would require a strong assertion of state independence from government involvement in localized areas. This is the far-off oasis that French presents to our polarizing desert. Review of Part III I’ll admit, this is a creative solution (and super fun to think about). It outdoes much right-wing punditry that merely calls the U.S. to “love more,” “be better,” and essentially "hug it out with each other" by returning to a specific (polarized) way of thinking about things (as Shapiro does in his book about polarization). But I still find a return to Madisonian federalism impracticable. Really, on both the right and the left the federal government garnishes way more attention than localized government. Indeed, there are many fruits of centralization we observe every election. To name a few, many have no idea who the local candidates are on the ballot, could not name their assembly representative, lieutenant governor, or even explain what a lieutenant governor does (this is California’s system). It would be funny if it were not so embarrassing. But this is the fruit of utilizing the federal government to solve all social problems. I repeat what I said earlier as well – it is an impulse the right indulges in (especially with its nationalist streak) just as much as the left. The Right just calls it a culture war. As Paul D. Miller says in his book, “Culture war is only possible when Americans look to their government to establish a cultural template for the nation but disagree about what the template should look like” (Miller 108). The right, like the left, is guilty of foisting a utopian template on the country. (For an argument why this is a bad thing and poor American philosophy – see Paul D. Miller's Religion of American Greatness). But a state movement toward progressive healthcare is such a radical move. I want to believe French. But the impulse toward nationalism and extreme progressivism (both require top-down use of federal government) makes me doubtful of this return. Cynically, I hypothesize that people would simply sue California, using the Supreme Court to somehow strike down the progressive healthcare system, rejecting bids for Madisonian federalism. I struggle to find French's oasis practicable. In terms of his two no-no words, I do not find pluralism (the second word) to be problematic. Having a pluralistic society is good, it means that a vast number of ideas, opinions, and doctrines are spread about for people to debate, comprehend, and reject – strengthening the mind and exploring natural law. J.S. Mill’s On Liberty (Chapters 2 and 4) has excellent arguments for how liberty that fosters a sort of pluralistic polity benefits even religious folk. Further, most American Christianity partially owes some of its greatest theological contributions to a political environment that allowed disagreement from incorrect tradition (Nathan Hatch’s Democratization of American Christianity deals with this development well). Pluralism is not the problem, as French acknowledges, contemporary factionalism from polarization is the conundrum to solve. This is why he supplies tolerance as the political virtue necessary for pluralism. This is how he glues people together in a way conducive to the pluralistic vision. But I would disagree with French that tolerance is the correct political virtue. Not because it is “a fruit from leftist ideas” (please, no soapbox sonnets), but because it demands too little of our citizenry. A society in which the polity is asked to merely tolerate each other sets the bar too low for civic virtue. I tend to agree more with Baron De Montesquieu (Spirit of Laws) that “a love for the Republic” ought to inform. Indeed, as Montesquieu argues, democracies are breeding grounds for virtuous engagement since the laws a person advocates for directly affect them. People are forced to “do unto others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:31). Every bad law one advocates for will come back to bite them in the butt too. Tolerance is the wrong political virtue to supplement in light of the virtuous environment democracy has the potential to inhabit. But tolerance does not make use of this suitable environment. Instead, it places the individual in the center of the equation and makes other people an afterthought in the political processes. When we are asked to tolerate someone, much is not required. Duties and obligations are cast in the negative – i.e do not kill, attack, or offend this person. No positive duties exist – i.e. what does this person need, how do I serve them, etc. Friedrich Nietzsche argued that democracy would breed “little tyrants,” (Beyond Good And Evil 242) meaning that people will end up utilizing the system “for the people” to serve their greater inclinations to power and prestige (a concept developed in Reinhold Niebuhr’s Children of light et al. quite well). I think tolerance is the moral virtue that breeds this individual despotism. It allows one to display virtue without doing anything especially virtuous. One is rewarded for “not shouting down their opponent” when such should be the norm. We become little tyrants when democracy becomes about us as individuals. We try to game the system to suit our immediate passions. We should not allow the virtue of tolerance to be the moral dictate that grounds action - I think it would also work against French's pluralism eventually. We need something stronger as an ideal - even if it is not perfectly followed. This is why I like Montesquieu's Love of Republic. It asks one to not only respect but serves their fellow citizens. As epitomized in the Christian ethic, love means stepping into the world of those who are your enemies (ahem: this is an implication from the doctrine of Christ’s incarnation). Tolerance, a contrario, means staying in your world and respectively viewing that which goes on around you. Problem is, if you do not relationally engage beyond the mere toleration of people, you risk alienating yourself from them altogether. This is a huge step towards polarization 0 one I think America took a while ago. As you can see, this is a very underdeveloped idea in my thinking. Yet within it, one can see kernels of my quibbles with tolerance. Overall, however, I recommend this book and think it is an excellent contribution to conservative literature. I think the underlying message further sounds the alarm about the American polarization problem and the dangers of leaving it unaddressed. His call to courage is something I will take to heart as I flee the toxic public discourse now accepted as normal among my fellow Americans.

This post was adapted for the Josh McDowell Blog (here). I have posted an original draft here. I can still recall the precious moment that I devoted myself to Christ. I remember becoming totally sold-out, convinced that Jesus rose again, saved me from my sins, and loves me forever. From that point on, spreading His message of salvation became so meaningful to me that it had to be my life’s purpose. I wanted nothing more than for people to accept the historical and spiritual truths of the Christian faith. But early on, as I began telling people about Christ, I found that most people were not receptive to the message. To my surprise, many conversations ended quite abruptly. I couldn’t understand why people could so easily reject the Gospel message that I deeply treasured. How could they not love hearing about what I treasured most, especially after what He did for them on the cross? Telling – But Not Showing – People Jesus After this kept happening, I soon discovered that though I was sharing and defending the TRUTH of Jesus’ work, there was something seriously wrong. But it wasn't with the message itself; it was with me. I thought people were rejecting the truth of Jesus because they couldn’t stand to hear the message. Turns out, many times they simply couldn’t stand talking to me. If it were not for me, they would hear what Christians had to say. I began to realize that the way I spoke was flawed. People were not having it. It wasn’t helping people hear the message and it was why many conversations ended so abruptly. I’ve heard Christian apologist Josh McDowell say in his talks, “Truth doesn’t change, but the way you present it better change.” This strikes at the heart of what my problem was. I would not change how I told others the truth of Christ. I spoke in the same tone, convincing myself that the unchanging truth of Christ meant I too could be unchanging in how I spoke to others. But speaking to everyone the same way made me sound like an insensitive robot. Really, I just wanted them to “get it,” but ended up pushing these people away! The passion on the inside, came out wrong — how could I fix this? How could I show people Jesus without pushing them away with how I speak? Maybe you can relate. Sometimes we are not aware we are in a bubble or when we become aware that we are, struggle in finding a way to “pop” it. Deep down, I wanted people to get excited about the truth of Christ like I was. But the way I told the truth was holding me back from being an effective, accessible, sharer of the truth. How I Speak to Others Matters When reading my Bible one day, I was overjoyed to better understand how to escape this conundrum. It began with this verse, “Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ” (Ephesians 4:15). Sometimes the simplest verses are so powerful. It was manifestly clear — I spoke the truth, but without love. But what does it mean to speak in love? Amazingly, the next part of the verse clues in as to what it is and how we can learn. I’ll repeat it here, “grow up in every way…into Christ.” When we were young, many of us had certain people we wanted to be like when we grew up. Maybe it was a superhero character, a president, or (for me) “Spiderman as President.” In admiration of the person, many of us would imitate who they were — going so far as to put on costumes or adopt their mannerisms. As said by Aristotle, “Imitation is natural to man from childhood…he learns first by imitation [and] delight[s] in [it]” (On Poetics). Interestingly, this verse is communicating a similar idea. As children of God, growing into Jesus Christ means we are called to imitate Who He is. This is what being a Christian is all about. Christian literally means “little Christ” in Greek. Imitation is something inherent to much of human expression. For example, it is necessary for the development of language. God has placed this within our faculty of reason --- admiring and thus imitating the person of Christ is a place where we exercise this faculty. It is God-given (I hope to develop this in subsequent posts). And imitation is not a boring task! Remember, as children, we took great joy imitating the person we admired (I loved wearing my spiderman costume). With Christ, it is even more so since becoming more like Him not only makes us treat others better, but also feel better about ourselves (as we become like Christ). This was the key to speaking the truth in love. Instead of trying to measure up against a list of “do’s” and “don'ts” or simply “be nicer;” I opened up my Bible to simply admire Jesus. I soaked up His example like a sponge, just as I did when I was a boy with superheroes. In the past, I have read and listened to advice that bordered on legalism. Advice that sounded more of the platitudes of the Stoics than Christian living. "Don't speak this way," "do this to sound more persuasive," or "disagree gently" are few popular templates. But these overlook the fact that audiences change and sometimes disagreement must become personal. It also is devoid of a teleological aim. Why should I speak gently? Is my goal to persuade others better to my point devoid of a relationship with them? To feel better about how I reason? These are all self-inflating directions that are not imitative of Christ - how I still struggle to avoid this! But with Christ we start differently, it starts with a love for the individual before a word is spoken. This is the example God sets...one that I deeply admire. And as I admire it, I naturally imitated Him. This is why spending time with Christ in prayer, reading about Him in the Bible, and learning from others is essential. When we admire something, we become obsessed with it — studying, analyzing, praising, and thinking about it constantly. But — let us not get it backward: It is not about doing more to become like Christ, but rather enjoying Christ and letting Him make you more like Him — naturally coming to imitate Him. When I simply enjoyed Jesus, I began to admire Christ more deeply and thus imitate Him more fully…His Word changed me…and (slowly) I began to speak the truth with love. I did not follow arbitrary platitudes one can find in any philosophy of rhetoric - it came from Christ and in Him only. I trust that any deficiency I have He will work for good too. My confidence is not in my speaking abilities but in Christ. Jesus Connected With Each Person One particular Bible passage that deepened my admiration of Christ is about a woman in Mark 5:25-34. These were on of those passages that made me sit back in pure acclaim. The story begins with Jesus in a crowd, “pressed around” on all sides. One in the crowd trying to get close to Jesus was this woman, who “had been subject to bleeding for twelve years.” Before diving into the Bible passage, it is important to note the context of the story. At that time, the Old Covenant Law was still in effect and stated that women with blood issues had to be “put apart” from the community for seven days (Leviticus 15:19) because they were unclean. This woman had been bleeding for 12 years. Pause and ponder that. Twelve years of bleeding would have debilitated, depressed, and weakened anyone for its sheer medical implications. But on top of that, she was constantly “put apart” from her community, friends, and family. She must have been exhausted, lonely, and desperate for a way out — desperate for connection and love. She would have also known that it was not merely impolite to frequent a crowd in her unclean state, but a personal offense to their religious practice (in that day, unclean people made others unclean). Yet Mark 5 tells us of a remarkable encounter: And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind Him in the crowd and touched His cloak, because she thought, “If I just touch His clothes, I will be healed.” Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering. At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from Him. He turned to the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?” “You see the people crowding against you,” His disciples answered, “and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’ But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at His feet and, trembling with fear, told Him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” Wow, notice how Jesus told her the good news. He stopped everything, gave her His full attention, and addressed her as she truly was: not defective, not worthless, but as His beloved child. I envision this woman sobbing tears of joy. After years of separation from her own people because of her problem, Jesus healed her and fully accepted her. Jesus also refused to compromise the Good News, that He is for all people who freely come to Him and recognize Him as Lord and Savior. In Him, the unclean must become clean. That is the subtle point here - contrary to religious expectations, when the unclean were around Christ they became clean. He told her the truth in love - which was a mere subpart within the larger story of His love that plays out in history. He let her speak and carefully noted her desperation—leaning into her vulnerability. Now imagine if Jesus had utilized the same approach as He did with a different audience, the Pharisees (religious leaders focused on the Law). These Pharisees needed, to use apologist Josh Mcdowell's magnanimous phrase, “to get their head out of cement.” They were rightly called snakes by Jesus (Matthew 12:34). But this woman needed a tender Savior in her moment of vulnerability. What’s Jesus’ secret to this? The answer lies in the incarnation. He became like one of us (though not sinning) to relate to us, live among His creation, and ultimately save us from death. Telling us the truth was wrapped up in an action of love. It was not a detached argument or message. Though He could have stayed with the Father in Heaven, He reached out to us by becoming human, seeing eye-to-eye, to bring us the truth (Himself). I had it all upside down. I realized that I must start with a love for the individual as Jesus did, then let that love guide how I speak to him/her. And to love someone, I must understand that person. I must step into their world and be relational — just like Jesus was when He became a man and dwelled among His own creation. Following Jesus’ Example So here is the big question: Like Jesus, is my attitude to understand the person I tell the truth to? Truth be told, in my early days of evangelizing, I spoke to everyone as if they were Pharisees. Meaning that even though what I was saying was right, all anyone heard was my direct, “take it or leave it” approach. Fortunately, by the grace of God, I have learned to listen to people’s experiences, and to speak lovingly. By sitting back and admiring Christ’s example, He began to develop this ability. Before concluding this post, I invite you to reflect upon your own journey with Christ. How did God reach you with the Good News? How does that change how you tell others about the truth of Christ? The answer to this question further transformed how I began sharing Jesus with others. As I meditated on how loving God is to me, I realized that I needed to do my best to be loving to others. How I need to keep working on this! I hope you feel encouraged to imitate Christ in what He taught, but also in how He taught. Simply stated: let’s embrace our sonship/daughtership in Christ! Let’s admire Him and get excited about being like Him.

"There’s been this generalized attitude in the conservative movement, as long as I’ve been alive, and well before it, suggesting that to what you think on a moral level and to say it with confidence is somehow some sort of imposition on somebody else, it's an act of violence, it’s something cruel and if somebody gets offended it is probably because you did something that was worthy of offending them. And when people start to get up on their hindlegs and say ‘you know what just no, the answer is no - then that doesn’t just have an impact in terms of this content we’re putting out. It also means that when the Left pushes their content it fails, so the key example of this from the past month is Lightyear. Disney decides that they’re going to put a lesbian kiss in a film that is designed for small children. And all people who were Conservative said is, “You might want to consider whether or not you want your kids to see this.” I tweeted that – the left went insane. Maybe it is not impolite for me to live out my values the way I wish to live out my values. so Lightyear is the biggest failure Pixar has ever had bar none, not even close.” - Ben Shapiro Disney/Pixar’s adventure flick Lightyear is an odd production from many angles. The most controversial angle; however, is the studios’ decision to include a lesbian character. This decision breaches the film’s premise. Disney and Pixar have each made decisions over the last several years to make their content more inclusive towards lgbtq+ people groups, beginning with Beauty and the Beast in 2017 and Finding Dory in 2016. This inclusivity seems shallow at most – ornamental at least. The respective scenes have been described as “blink and you’ll miss it,” since they are brief and unimportant to the plots and main characters. That discussion warrants its own article. Lightyear’s attempt at inclusivity is also shallow. It is mentioned once in conversation and depicted on-screen in a sympathetic and mute montage. Its inclusion is as inoffensive as any confident articulation of values by any party would be. Though its inclusion at all betrays the film’s fundamental idea. Lightyear is more than protagonist Buzz Lightyear’s origin story. The movie claims in its first scene that its story is canon to the Toy Story franchise insofar as it received a theatrical release in-universe. Andy, the boy who owns the cast of toys (between Toy Story films I - III,) viewed Lightyear in theaters when it first released in 1995 – according to the movie’s opening scene. This fundamental idea connects it to the franchise as we know it otherwise Director Angus Maclane has been involved in the franchise’ production since the first film. He adds to the concept, “I’d always wondered, what was the show or the movie that Buzz Lightyear came from. That was always something clicking in the back of my head.” (Beyond Infinity). Both Maclane’s vision and the movie’s claim correspond with the theatrical release of the first Toy Story movie: it graced our theaters in 1995. This correspondence alludes that the world of Toy Story is similar to ours; different insofar as toys are animate in that world but inanimate in our own world, and that the Lightyear film was released in that canon when Toy Story was released in real-world 1995. This is Lightyear’s fundamental idea. Toy Story fans’ stake in the movie is its affect on Andy and the world he lives in. The Lightyear movie seems to have produced a cultural phenomenon in Toy Story I and II: video games, mass manufactured toy lines, and mania follow its release in 1995. Therefore it would be important for Toy Story fans. If Lightyear were released in 1995 in our reality, it would not have seen such success and mania. Lightyear would have been criticized by audiences across political affiliations were it released today. ‘The Left which pushes this content’ (Shapiro) is unrecognizable from the Democratic party in 1995. The Democratic Party Platform today claims “Democrats applaud last year’s decision by the Supreme Court that recognized that LGBT people—like other Americans—have the right to marry the person they love. But there is still much work to be done” (Democrats.org). The platform employs the term ‘lbtq+’ 30 times over 41,396 word length. The Democratic Party Platform in 1996; however, references the terms ‘gay’ and ‘lesbian’ once respectively over its 18,098 word length. It omits discussion around legalizing gay marriage. Such a statement would have been a nonstarter at the time since 68% of the American public opposed gay marriage (Washington Blade). Gay marriage became legal for the first time in America (exclusively in Massachusetts) in 2004: eight years after the Democratic Party Platform publication, and nine years after both the real release of Toy Story and the fictional release of Lightyear in the world of Toy Story. This is a roundabout way of showing how most Americans were either indifferent or opposed to lgbtq+ advocacy in the time when Toy Story was released. It is reasonable to conclude that Americans would be more indifferent or opposed toward content directed at children while depicting lgbtq+ oriented themes directed toward child audiences – which is Shapiro’s primary gripe with the film. It should be reasonable, though perhaps odd, to conclude that political inclinations would be similar in Toy Story’s 1995 as to the real 1995. No movie directing lgbtq+ oriented content toward children would usher a cultural phenomenon the way Lightyear did in the world of Toy Story, given that the world of Toy Story is like our own. So the world of Toy Story is not like our own. That world was more inclusive toward both lgbtq+ people groups and more receptive toward content which appeals to those groups in 1995 compared to our world in 1995. Lightyear produced a cultural phenomenon because that world was primed to receive it with its inclusive content. That could be; but isn’t true. If it were so, that inclusivity would likely have been alluded to at any point between Toy Story films I-III and the content surrounding them. That theming is missing from those but present in Toy Story IV because Disney and Pixar themselves were not prepared to display those ideas in their content until the time between Toy Story III (2010) and Toy Story IV’s (2019) releases. The appeal to LGBTQ+ is only present in Lightyear because Disney and Pixar believe it benefits themselves to signal popular virtues. They are not predicated on any real values or sympathies. Disney and Pixar are not the stalwart includers nor passionate storytellers for people who identify with lgbtq+. They have revealed their heartless tendencies to pursue what is popular, because popular pays. Either the Toy Story World has been secretly gay-inclusive since 1995 unlike real America, with less than a hint of such theming occurring between 1996 and 2007, or Pixar failed to consider that they would undermine history by pandering politically in their most successful property's prequel. Lightyear’s fundamental idea is a loose skin, thrown over Disney and Pixar’s most recent effort to appeal to as many groups as possible, to make as much money from them as possible, without any real consideration.

Preface I tried enjoying this book...but the reasoning in most chapters is quite problematic and seemingly disingenuous. There are plenty of 3/5 star critiques online that share this sentiment. To avoid repetition, I will thus limit my discussion to some of her most problematic points. Candace's book details what she sees as inherent, ideological troubles within the Democratic Party. She attempts to provide critical exposé to the sentiments typically espoused by Democrats (she aligns their ideology with those of "The Left"). Each chapter documents a subcategory within the Leftist/Democrat ideology that is both wrongheaded and detrimental to the black community. She lists topics like slavery, and socialism, and even dedicates a chapter to the American media. Synthesizing the evidence of all chapters, she showcases the inefficiency and immorality of the Democrat Party and concludes with a "call to arms," inviting black Americans to vote for Donald J. Trump and "b(l)ackout" of the Democrat party for good. Review Upon concluding the book, I was disappointed to find a common, yet serious flaw that overshadowed her entire argument. Simply stated, she erroneously assumes that any reason not to vote Democrat is a reason to vote Republican. The careful reader must dismiss such argumentation with a resounding "no." It is wrongheaded to conflate these two claims. Indeed, this trots out a dichotomy that is neither real nor necessary in a constitutional, multi-party democracy. To fix (or save) her argument, she must at least give reason for accepting this dichotomy OR supply separate reason to vote Republican (and also for Donald J. Trump). By not doing so, readers have no good reason to operate on her assumed dichotomy---at least in the context of this book. Though some might argue that she escapes this flaw. They might say her argument touts Trump as the best way and not the only way to escape these dangerous democrats. Again, however, a question surfaces. Why is Trump the best over all other candidates? Does this not complicate the argument even more since she must account for all other independent, Democrat, third-party candidates too? And if she does not account for independents, then she must argue for a similar dichotomy like the one above. Instead she plows right through these considerations and dedicates a mere 13 page defense of Trump. Within this argument, she highlights his temperament (calling him a bull in a China shop - I am puzzled how this helps), labels him boisterous, and quotes parts of his speeches (which he probably did not write). Policy discussions are seriously lacking in her desperately weakened argument and the greater irony is that many of her reasons serve to dissuade many from Trump. Furthermore, there are arguments against voting Republican and good faith dictates a footnote or allusion to such argumentation at least, but this too is lacking. It is disappointing to witness her overall method and generosity toward her opponents. Such contributes little to the broader discussion. To cut short my lamentation, however, I must digress to the content within her chapters. Chapter Content There were a couple of chapter discussions that were simply problematic. For prolixity's sake, I will limit my discussion to a few stand-out ones. 1) Her discussions about feminism exemplify a disingenuous engagement with her opponents. You would be shocked to find that throughout her chapter "On Feminism" she never delves into the "philosophical" differences between certain waves of feminism, never singles out a specific view of feminism to engage with, and does not supply any quotations from the work of modern feminists (she fails to quote any serious academic feminist). The cautious reader turns each page slowly realizing that she doesn't know much about feminism nor its different academic flavors. From what I could collect, Owens' definition of modern feminism is anything that is a "witch hunt against men" (67). Not only is this not modern feminism, but it is also deeply concerning that many agree with her assessment. I was hoping she would quote academic feminists like Virginia Held, Robin Dillon, or even Kimberly Crenshaw just for the sake of worthwhile engagement. Like many cautious readers, I wanted her to "steel-man" (or "steel-woman") her opponent's argument. To those detractors, I am not a feminist. I have merely engaged with some of my opponents' literature. One should expect the same of Owens, considering she has placed this book within the (strict) discipline of political science. Her methodology in examining feminism is replicated through the book, especially (sadly) with Marxism. To the point, most of her Marxian quotations come from the Communist Manifesto. I quibble with this due to the Communist Manifesto's brevity, spanning a short 100 (and something) page treatise with limited academic discussion. In reality, Marx published 15 complete works that span hundreds of pages. Proper engagement must go beyond the mere ramblings of a manifesto if one seeks to enter into an honest debate against Marx's intellectual tradition. 2) Owen's discussion on slavery demonstrates problematic reasoning. "On Slavery" commences with the claim, "the injustices of slavery ....[has] (highly implausible) lingering effects ... four hundred years later" (239). Once again, the cautious reader requests proof for the claim that antebellum slavery, an inhumane, demeaning, deadly institution, has not spurred any plausible detriment to generations today. Indeed, hundreds of pages of historical analysis would be expected in contemporary scholarship. Instead, however, she spends most of her chapter supplying details on slavery throughout world history and among Native American tribes. The emperor does not have new clothes - this is the old talking point that slavery was around for a long time therefore slavery in America is...expected? Less horrific? Justified? Not important to analyze? Should not be heavily discussed? Really, no one has any idea where this argument goes, except some folks like Owens who argue it. Further, this is a textbook example of a red-herring. The discussion is supposed to be about the impact of slavery in American history upon black folk, not the impact of slavery in the larger scheme of world history. It is also puzzling why she dismisses the detrimental effects/inherited inequities passed down due to the dark parts of history (even today). There is a considerable debate to be had here as well. Regardless, if she had recognized inherited inequities in her argument this would not undo it. She already notes (astutely) that certain problems exist within the black community. Acknowledging an evil historical influence that (she might say partially) caused such problems does not undermine her ultimate call to vote more in line with your interests and be more personally responsible. DuBois, a brilliant sociologist and black man living in the generation after slavery, was an example of someone who did just that. He acknowledged the deeply, egregious evil of slavery and racism of the white men at that time, refusing to hold back his comments upon its effects and the hypocrisy regarding the American ideals. Yet he also argued for a standard of excellence among the black community. One which he exemplified in his brilliant writing and excellent career. Consider this quote, "The supplementary truths must never be lost sight of: first, slavery and race-prejudice are potent if not sufficient causes of the Negro's position...[and] while it is a great truth to say that the Negro must strive and strive mightily to help himself, it is equally true that unless his striving be not simply second, but aroused and encouraged...he cannot hope for great success" (403) Granted her argument is contemporary contra this quote, but the case is still plausibly constructed (and is plausibly made by those in the NAACP, founded by Dubois). 3) She argues that slaves on democratic plantations are somehow comparable to black people continuing to vote democrat. I have heard her explanations and I understand it is a metaphor. However, her analysis massively "cherry-picks" historical evidence. As stated above, there is simply no discussion of Republican policymaking up to the present nor the distinction between abolitionist and non-abolitionist Republicans. More importantly, I do not see the wisdom in telling the very people you desire to persuade that they are systemically endorsing an institution comparable to Antebellum slavery. To tell your target audience that they are still (somehow) slaves is a deeply lofty rhetorical tactic. It is no wonder that many readers slightly to the left of Owens were a bit troubled by the book's implications. I am sure many are confused about why Candace chose this tactic and, as someone (technically, not happily) closer to Owens on the ideological scale, I am puzzled as well. I must add, however, that this book has some redeeming qualities. These include some very heartening anecdotes about her life lessons, moments of taking personal responsibility, and a great discussion about education. I applaud such moments of moral realizations that drive one toward the pursuit of truth and enjoyed hearing of how she hopes for black Americans to pursue education. This is a point that many, brilliant leaders from the black community have emphasized (see WEB DuBois critique on Booker T. Washington in The Souls of Black Folk for an example). Nonetheless, it is challenging to keep these in mind in light of her former tactics. Even now I struggle whether to address her deep misunderstanding of Marx's political philosophy (it is really bad, as is her poor use of a quotation from Hobbesian philosophy - I could write on this part alone). I want to conclude the discussion by noting my political affiliation: I do fall on the right side of the political spectrum, though not as far Right as Owens. My overarching concern is that Owens is neither engaging with her opponents nor her tradition. It was very difficult at times to see any connection between her ideas and traditional, philosophical conservatism. She never distinguishes (clearly, at least) between the classical liberalism of John Locke and the conservatism of, say, Edmund Burke. Most of her conservatism sounds like Lockean individualism that is more concerned with self-expression involving personal responsibility, over the burden of tradition and convention (though she is religious). This is essential - the philosophical underpinnings of a view must be thought through to strengthen arguments against our opponents. In another post, I might discuss my concern with her philosophy. However, the brevity of a book review compels me. I hope my review spurs more thoughtful discussion that is more cognizant of reasonable (or unreasonable) argumentation. And most importantly, I hope to encourage you to dive into a pile of books once more!

Quite simply, this movie was spectacular. Top Gun was the third movie I watched in the theaters since August 2021; I loved every second. I also took my grandfather to the film which made it all the more wholesome and memorable. Top Gun was an experience, thrill, and adventure that, while remarkable, did not sacrifice any realism. Indeed, at the film's outset ol' Cruise himself got on the big screen to emphasize that the aeronautical stunts were real. I called bluff. Why are you telling me about these effects if they're so legitimate? If they're real then they'll speak for themselves, Tom. Nonetheless, I decided to trust ol' Cruise who, with a chuckle and toothy grin, coolly reassured me that the effects were legitimate ... And wow, he was not bluffing. The entire time I was blown away (no pun intended) by the aeronautical effects and stunts peppered throughout the movie. The "flight test" scene alone had my adrenal glands firing and blood pressure spiking beyond the medically prescribed limitations. No previous knowledge was required for the audience to understand our protagonist from that point on: Maverick was an ass, but a bad one indeed. Top Gun was also one of the few movies where I was not annoyed with the superfan (who was sitting next to me). Within each flight scene, the laborious breathing of the superfan made me realize something: I was laboriously breathing too, and so was Grandpa (I was a bit concerned about that). The super fan and I were one in our enjoyment - and Maverick was the badass facilitating it. More importantly, however, I want to emphasize that it is almost indisputable that Maverick is a metaphor for Tom Cruise. Think about it: in both scenarios we encounter an older veteran who is still trying to thrive in an industry slowly becoming deadened by technological advancement (think of CGI as those 5th generation drones)... such technology is also coming to replace the older skills acquired by this veteran actor/pilot for a perceived "gain" in monetary profit by lazy, detached audiences. It is not too long until a dying industry sees the need for Mav's/Tom's skills to outperform the technology (CGI or drones) that terrorizes the airwaves in hopes of redeeming the value of human acting/piloting currently entrenched in technological handicaps that steal the thrill of a true "sky-high" experience. I confidently assert that, like the movie's ending, the veteran actor who performs the stunts himself (without the co-pilot of CGI) seriously outperforms those high-tech, protoplasmic conglomerations of movies (think of Marvel). There is no doubt that Top Gun unearthed a long-lost nostalgia for movies that are truly genuine, more realistic, and not dominated by computer technology that ruins sincere expectations. Indeed, picturing Ol' Tom in the plane, toothily grinning and maniacally laughing in the air, birthed an adrenaline rush that almost pushed me to join the military. I cannot stress the good taste in including "Ice's" deteriorating health but growing wisdom, the preservation of goose's legacy, Maverick's awkward father figure moment, and the nostalgia of the old F-14 at the end. These were all fruits of sincere dedication to this film. Like many fans, I was also thrilled that they got Val Kilmer to return in light of his health and appreciated their portrayal of what one might call a "humble bravado" that famed, old-timer veterans usually possess (ironically, this is something that Maverick nor Tom Cruise seem to demonstrate in their personal lives). In short: Top Gun is an amazing movie. Though I have flown past discussions of his love interest, Miles Teller's performance, the humor, and the politics (note: this movie has no serious geopolitics at play here---This is a ploy by the annoying political commentator to deaden the movie's impact by his comment), I am here to praise the movie for what it stood for: an embrace of more genuine filmmaking that does heavy grunt work. Audiences do value grunt work when they hear of it. To conclude rather bluntly: this movie has rekindled my hope in a future of action movies that take themselves seriously and, one might facetiously add, an audience that takes themselves seriously as well.