Eh? Blotcher Bulldo?

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The miscreants and felons that we have appointed to interpret our Constitution for us have managed, over the years, to stretch the commerce clause to a point where only theoretical physicists can understand quite how they did it. A farmer who raises his very own grain to feed to his very own cattle, the manure from which he uses to fertilize the next crop, with nothing whatever ever leaving the ranch, is still subject to the feds’ regulation under the “interstate commerce” clause because, had he not been self-sufficient like this, he might not have been. Had he not raised his own grain, he might have needed to buy some from out of state, and that’s interstate commerce. And just when we thought it couldn’t go any farther than this, believing we might not need any more whiteboards covered with arcane legal equations, along comes Obamacare and the individual mandate. The argument now is that if you are just sitting there, breathing quietly, pulse rate low, as long as you are not buying insurance, this too is interstate commerce.

Know what this means? It means the end is near. More on that in a minute.

This brings us to the ghoulish murder case in Philadelphia, where an abortionist named Kermit Gosnell is charged with murdering seven babies by inserting scissors in the back of their necks and severing their spinal cords. For many, this is being taken as one of those appalling things that happens from time to time in every society. But no, actually. These babies were conceived in a country where they had, in utero, absolutely no right to be alive. These seven were preceded in death by what? Forty million others? They had no right to life, and now they aren’t alive. So what is the problem then? The charge is that Gosnell killed them “this way,” instead of the constitutionally protected “that way.”

My point here is not the seven murders of these seven precious children — as wretched as that is. My point here is that in order for things to get to this point, there must first be an antecedent murder of the Word and then, as a result of that, words. They always kill Jesus first.

This is as though some euthanizing nurse on an individual crusade found herself charged with murder because she stood on somebody’s oxygen hose with her left foot instead of her right.

“When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.”

“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”

“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master— that’s all.”

The will to power is quite a different thing than the will to make sense. And at some point (early on), the two part company and those in power make the long descent into lunacy. Before Nebuchadnezzar came to his senses, which is defined in Scripture as recognizing that God in Heaven rules, he had to eat quite a a bit of grass.

In That Hideous Strength, there is a tremendously satisfying scene as the novel crescendos, the scene when the confusion of tongues descends upon Belbury. When Jules gets up to address the banquet and says, “Eh? Blotcher bulldoo?” there are a number of things this means, but one of them is that the story is almost over.

Our cacophony of voices, the babble and chatter, has gotten to the breaking point. We are waiting on one thing only. Only one thing remains. But how shall they hear without a preacher?



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