Dear Friends,
[I meant to get this Quarter Inch out yesterday, but enjoy it today instead.]
I noticed the other day that Stephen Wolfe re-posted on Substack his original “reply” to my negative review of his book on Christian Nationalism. That is a weird thing to re-post or brag about because it was completely inept and dishonest. He must think people won’t wonder if Mattson ever responded—and, in his defense, he’s right. His audience won’t wonder. But for everyone else, I thought I might balance the record by reminding everybody that I wrote a reply to this attempt, and it wasn’t pretty for him. Share away.
Now, you all know that I have been writing for years and years about the “Children’s Crusade,” this motley cadre of young white males raging at the world because it will not obey. I have documented again and again a virulent strain of conspiratorialism, vulgarity, and outright racism infesting the entire ecosystem. Wolfe’s book was a big catalyst for this movement. I do not know if the movement is growing; over a thousand people attended that conference in Ogden. But I do know that they are getting louder and prouder.
One of the best decisions I ever made was to restrict my social media feeds to my actual friends. If I don’t know you, or at least have some significant professional engagement with you, you’re just not included in my Facebook or Instagram circle. I have other friends who are not so fortunate. I see them post something about the ills of this brand of Christian Nationalism, and then watch their comment sections explode with dozens and dozens of the most outrageous non sequiturs, ad hominems, and incandescently stupid replies. It is so bad I throw up my hands, look to the sky, and wonder: Why bother?
My friends bother because they are better people than me. They feel called, futile as it might seem, to try to call some remnant out of the cesspool. They aren’t trying to win an argument with someone who, by definition, can never lose an argument. They are trying to signal to young men surrounded by these mediocrities that there is another way, a better way, a godly way to deal with their angst and anxieties. I applaud them for it.
That brings me to an essay to which I must call to your attention. It is essentially a MUST-read. As in, stop whatever you are doing and read it. It will not take that long. Virgil Walker has written probably the best, most insightful, and most heartfelt appeal to these people I have seen or am likely to see. Click on the link and read it.
Speaking of must-read essays, I will commend to you today’s essay by Erick Erickson. It will, um, not make him popular on the political right, but it absolutely, 100% needed to be written. Erick puts a spotlight on the rank and utterly intolerable corruption of the Trump Administration. Keep in mind: Erick voted for the guy, and supported him—holding his nose, sure, but supported nonetheless.
And what we have learned about the financial dealings of Trump, his family, and his closest advisers rather makes the “Biden Crime Family” stuff look tame. And that stuff was bad!
Gnash your teeth all you want. It is the truth. And the truth will set you free. Free to tell the truth, to call the balls and strikes as they are instead of what you wish them to be or whatever happens to align with the opinions of your tribe. Be free like Erick is free. Free to criticize and argue against the progressive left, and free to criticize and argue against the corrupt right.
You will have integrity and you will sleep so much more peacefully.
It is a balmy 89 degrees today, thankfully. We’ve just been through a pretty unprecedented three-day span. On Sunday the temperature reached 113 degrees (it exceeded that image at the top). Yes, in Montana. Yikes. It’s a (very) dry heat, but you know the thing about a dry heat? It’s still hot. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
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