Letter #212: Those Who Live to Please

Giving up Popularity for Lent

Tonight, Wednesday 3/19, at 7PM Eastern, Spencer and I will be livestreaming here on Substack. This is open to all but we hope you’ll love it so much, you’ll become a paid subscriber.

Spench.

Well, I must confess it: every smelly thing you said was true. We are in an information crisis. On the one hand, the people we’re supposed to be able to trust — journalists and experts and government operators — have lied to protect the failing philosophy on which their power depends. And on the other hand, many of those who oppose those lies are themselves hateful or enraged or alienated or just plain cynical so that even their truth is “twisted by knaves to set a trap for fools,” as the talented Mr. Kipling would have it.

But this is exactly how scripture describes the world. It’s the passion narrative in a nutshell, in fact. The religious urge the people to hatred. The hateful urge the government to violence. The government washes its hands of responsibility. The truth is crucified.

Which brings us back to more edifying Lenten topics. Giving things up. Emptying oneself out. Hoping God will fill up the empty places. But also secretly hoping he’ll leave us alone so we can keep wanting the meaningless orange-head crap we so desperately want.

One of the more pitiful taunts the Jew-haters hurl at me is that I’ve been “ratioed.” Fortunately, I’m too old to consistently remember what that means, but I think it has something to do with the fact that some of my X posts aren’t popular. It’s pitiful because the same skewed, shallow, ignorant values that lead a man to Jew-hatred also lead him to believe you can judge another’s words by the number of people who like them. There are, after all, more fools than wise men in the world, as my old friend Socrates used to say.

Which raises a confusing paradox concerning Lenten give-uppery. Art, capitalism, democracy — all depend on popular support. Those “that live to please must please to live.” But to depend on popularity is to surrender to the judgement of a sinful world.

So, for instance, when you write for a living, it’s natural to want your writing to be read. But momentary popularity is no measure of the worth of the work. Most books that make the bestseller list are trash, but some are great. Many books that are ignored are trash, but some are great. You literally can never know whether you’re an immortal working in obscurity, or a hack being honored with every prize, or an obscure hack or an honored immortal, or anything else along the spectrum.

The wise man writes as well as he can and tries not to care whether anyone reads it in the moment. But he’d be a fool to write without caring if anyone will ever read it at all.

The same crowds that cheered Christ’s entry into Jerusalem called for his crucifixion a few days later. He must have known it would be so, yet on he came. And on he preached, so that those who had ears to hear might hear.

Love, Dad