Cutesy One-Liners Won't Do It

No.235: November 1, 2024

Welcome to The Square Inch, a Friday newsletter on Christianity, culture, and all of the many-varied “square inches” of God’s domain. This is a paid subscription feature with a preview before the paywall, so please consider subscribing to enjoy this weekly missive along with an occasional “Off The Shelf” feature about books, a frequent Pipe & Dram feature of little monologues/conversations in my study, and Wednesday’s “The Quarter Inch,” a quick(er) commentary on current events.

Dear Friends,

November. How did that happen? The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand Twenty-Four has just blazed by and I can scarcely believe we are nearing Advent Season already. I keep waiting for stretch of time to open up when I have an opportunity to set some things aside and get to work on a laundry list of domestic projects, but I’m doubtful that is going to come. November around here kicks off a string of celebratory events: birthdays, Thanksgiving, an anniversary (a silver anniversary this year), followed quickly by our annual trip to San Francisco for the CCL symposium. Then Christmas season will be in full swing. It is as if the final two months of the year are a fulcrum; time seems to pick up speed to swing us into the following year.

This week I was able, with the help of some generous friends, to get one project (nearly) finished. Years ago I had a dream of putting a Heat-N-Glo gas fireplace in my basement. The local fireplace store quoted me $4,500 for the model I wanted and its installation. That was simply out of the question. However, with the help of Facebook Marketplace and my friends, I now have that exact model installed in my basement and all-told I’m into it for only a thousand bucks—that includes the concrete guy coring the hole for the vent pipe through my foundation. We’ve got it in just in time for the snow to start flying, but I still have some troubleshooting to do to get it fired up.

Then I have two vehicles that need some repair. Again. Sigh.

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I cannot wait for this coming week to be over. I can barely stand to open up Facebook or Instagram or X. People are really invested in this Presidential election, and as you know I couldn’t be less invested. This is by far the most vacuous, policy-free, who-can-give-out-the-most-pandering-goodies campaign in my lifetime. It is all about “vibes,” and I get no good vibes from anyone—not even the people I voted for. I am sick of progressives filling my feeds with hysterical promises of doom if Trump wins. I am really sick of my conservative Christian friends and acquaintances writing hyperventilating posts trying to convince me that all manner of hell will be unleashed if Trump doesn’t win.

I wistfully imagine, in my mind’s eye, what it would look like if every Christian I know was half as excited about the gospel of Jesus Christ as they are about Donald Trump. Yes, that is probably a very unfair “Jesus Juke”—one can care about more than one thing—but I can’t help it. The religious fervor surrounding this candidate is gross. The guy is completely unfit; the gal is also completely unfit. Vote for him, if you like. Rationalize away—some of those rationalizations might even have a kernel of truth (maybe—maybe—he’d be less bad than his opponent). But please stop projecting grandeur and world-historical significance to this small, petty, self-absorbed man.

As for me, I am a classical liberal (i.e., conservative) and I don’t vote for Statists, regardless of party affiliation.

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I really hate to bring this up, but I think I should. I mentioned in The Quarter Inch this week that the Christian Nationalists were having themselves quite a kerfuffle—some of the influential bigwigs are having a nasty fight with some of their constituents. Two years ago I called this movement a Children’s Crusade, and the kids are now forming factions and throwing sand in each other’s eyes.