Deafening Silence & inconvenient truth:

If a blogger blogs in a forest and no one reads it . . . ?
I figure that the lack of any response to my previous post is due to a combination of realities:

• Some young evangelicals have already gone on to something else. Deciding who to vote for is just "So yesterday."
• In post modern-fashion they don't want to wade into another utterly frustrating argument/discussion with a hopelessly hung-up modernist--you know one of those guys who really holds that there are things like right and wrong, and true and false. I mean, how do you reason with someone like that?
• Probably more important than anything else though, is essentially no one reads this blog.

Since postmoderns are supposed to get truth through story let's try this:

Once upon a time there was a kingdom. It was a very nice place to live. High-speed wireless Internet was available even in the most remote points of the realm. The king in his totally awesome benevolence had decreed that access to this network was a right to all citizens and no one was denied.
"Myspace, Facebook, and Twitter to all!" was the slogan heard round the kingdom. In the capitol of the land there was a huge sphere named Blogo. All admired it greatly and looked to it for truth and inspiration. On top of this globe the king had erected a throne. on occasions of great import he would ascend there, and the people marvelled. "He gets it. He is one of us!" They cried. Every house in the land had not only plumbing for hot and cold water, but Starbucks was piped in as well, to provide stimulus.

The citizens of the kingdom existed in blissful satisfaction, except for one thing. The totally green, ecologically-balanced, cool-earth landscape had one problem. In many of the yards around the kingdom there were large, brown, cardboard boxes--you know the kind of containers that ozone-friendly refrigerators come in. Some of these boxes were in driveways, making it terribly inconvenient for some young, hip, up-and-coming citizens to make their way to their upwardly mobile, totally fulfilling jobs, in their totally electric vehicles. Others said that for some having a box in the yard might be a good thing, but for me, right now, it just isn't.

Rumors abounded that there was something in these boxes. People heard noises--remarkably life-like sounds--and others who had ventured to bore holes in the side of a box said that they actually saw children living in the boxes. The strongest evidence of all was offered by those who had seen children come out of these boxes--children that went on to live remarkably normal lives. Others, of course, denied all of this. "These products of recycling cannot be fully alive. Certainly, they do not deserve any particular concern from us. Those that are alive after emerging have life because big people want them as their own and say they are alive. Without that magic blessing they lack true life."

Still the debate continued. Some demanded the right to remove the boxes. Others said that to do so amounted to the unwarranted taking of life. The king of the land chose to remain blissfully ignorant. He gave no heed to those who sent him video that showed that children lived in the boxes. He said that such rhetoric and images were devisive, and interferred with the important business of the kingdom. He declared: "I am not an expert on life-in-boxes. To say what is in the boxes requires more knowledge and education than I have." (Some wondered why he did not seek more enlightenment on the matter, but others judged his answer so wise, clever, and post-containerish that they simply let it pass, or applauded him for his wisdom.)

Soon a special day came when the king had the privilege to grant to his subjects some new boon, as if the magnificence of his reign were not already reward enough. Sweeping aside all the evidence offered by those who sought to protect what they regarded as true life in the boxes, he declared that all, everywhere, may burn, shred, or in other ways dispose of the boxes and their contents. Furthermore it was decreed that should anyone not be able to afford the removal of such an impediment to personal progress, that the king would insist that resources be made available from the coffers of the kingdom--coffers made continually full by the joyful contributions of the citizens. Indeed, one of the king's trusted advisers and allies applauded this decree. She announced that it would lead to the further enrichment of the kingdom.

The citizens marvelled at the wisdom of the king. "He chooses not to know what might interfere with our doing what we want to do. Let us all pray for greater ignorance so that we might be more free. Long live the king."

And all in the kingdom lived happily ever after, except for those who lived in boxes. They didn't live at all.