Wednesday, February 21, 2007

The Lion, the Witch, and the Valley Dude

More Hootage

Hays rocks on:

“Like a dissolute son of the peerage, he (Spencer) squanders his evangelical patrimony on the apologetics of self-pity.”

Can anyone speak this language and translate?

Since Spencer has difficulty parsing the King’s English, I’ll recast what I said in my best Valspeak:

What Spencer has done here is like, ya know, to play a game of chicken. Like teenage drag racers, like, who will blink first? Who will swerve before hittin' thuh oncomin' rod or slam on thuh brakes before careenin' over thuh cliff? The way hes set up his reply, like, wow, this is an argument from analogy, like, wow, based on a bluff: “I dare you—I double-dare—you to call me a liberal, like, cuz if you call me a liberal, oh, baby, then you gotta call C. S. Lewis a liberal too! Gag me with a SPOOOOON!”

To begin with, fer shure, this is an intellectually pitiful reply. A comparison between his position and Lewis’s, man, even if thuh parallel holds, like, wow, does absolutely nothin' to validate his own position. And why does he think I would hesitate to criticize Lewis’s theory of inspiration? Indeed, mostly, Ive done so in thuh past. Apparently, man, he’s attemptin' to create a pragmatic dilemma. Lewis has a really rad followin'. If I force guys to choose between my view and Lewis’s, mostly, then I will lose thuh popularity contest. So, mostly, if I back down, like, he wins, man, and if I press thuh comparison, man, he also wins—wins by hidin' behind thuh skirts of C. S. Lewis. You could hardly come up with a better example of Spencer’s poor-little-me-centered theology.

And it also illustrates his frivolity. Instead of showin' that thuh charge originally leveled by thuh Fide-0 boys is like, ya know, false, like, he turns this into a popularity contest and a game of chicken. Instead of askin' which theory of inspiration corresponds with reality, like, wow, he indulges in sophomoric sophistries. Spencer is like, ya know, way more concerned about his self-image, oh, baby, and public image, like, wow, and massagin' his wounded ego and hurt feelin's and personal insecurities.

All of us have our share of fears and weaknesses, like, but not all of us erect kneein'-rails around thuh altar of our fears and weaknesses. Spencer is creatin' a customized religion—designed to insulate himself from tripendicular slin's and arrows to his persecution-complex. Hes beginnin' to erect a whole edifice around thuh Religion of Spencerism—to pad and pamper his felt needs and hurts.

The time is like, ya know, past due for a grown nerd to grow up. If this were a private affair, mostly, it would be no one’s business but his own immediate social circle. Man, when he goes public to justify himself, like, and to justify himself by assumin' thuh role of a false teacher, mostly, then this needs to be publicly reproved.

Lewis was a layman, like, wow, fightin' on his own. Lewis improved on his circumstances. That dude parlayed a pair of deuces into, fer shure, if not a royal flush, like, then at least a full pad. By contrast, fer shure, Spencer has parlayed a royal flush into three of a kind on a way to deuces. Like a dissolute son of thuh peerage, man, he squanders his evangelical patrimony on thuh apologetics of self-pity.


  1. Steve,

    Didn't Michael Spencer post this a few weeks ago? C'mon, it was funny. Let it go, man.

  2. "past due for a grown nerd to grow up"

    pot, meet kettle