Frank Maguire
The Plutopians in the Garden of Hedon
By Frank Maguire
August 22, 2010

The brilliant writer/philosopher G. K. Chesterton expressed the essence of Original Sin as clearly and succinctly as is possible. He wrote, "The first lie out of Hell is 'I am my own.'"

From "In the beginning" to our approaching end the goal of Satan has always been the same. To retake Eden using such lies as "I am my own."

Satan is patient. After all, what has he got to lose? But he has much to gain, and his gain is Man's eternal loss. That fallen angel, Lucifer, erstwhile Angel of Light and of Music, constantly seduces. His strategy is methodical, and he makes use of all that was created to be used for Good as he artfully twists it into Evil.

Satan knows quite well that for every martyr, there are a hundred who accommodate: a term used in United States contract law — Accommodation Bill, a bill of exchange; Accommodation (physiology), process of changes in bodily function due to repeated exposure to toxins; (Jean Piaget/psychology) The process by which existing mental structures and behaviors are modified to adapt to new experiences.

Satan's flavorful toxins amount, thus, to "a bill of exchange." "Look, Satan, I won't bad-mouth you, but just leave me alone to enjoy myself." Satan smiles (as Screwtape acknowledges Wormwood's success [The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis]) and accommodates the hebetudinous hedonist.

Then, those who are consistently immersed in the toxins that Satan supplies to the world in abundance become inured to the poisonous environment, finding it to their liking, and even describing it as "healthy."

The final result of the "process" is a behavior modified to live in an environment where God has removed himself, leaving Man on his own to work out his own destruction.

And, to reiterate Chesterton, it all goes back to the beginning: Man wanting to be his/her own god. "I am my own." Has America fallen this far? Oh, yes! It has been a long fall of Panglossian complaisance. Oh, yes! The long Fall that precedes the Winter of our eternal Discontent. Oh yes, friends and brothers and sisters in Christ, the brimstone rises up to meet us.

I was watching a ball game the other day — I do very little "watching" of the infamous "boob tube," to quote Newton Minnow, but I believe it was the Rays and the Phillies, trying to perform in a virtual typhoon.

An advert (to use the Brit term for a "commercial message") came on. I muted it, but continued to glance at it.

There stood an attractive young woman, in the foreground, with her (I assumed) family in the background. She was smiling and active, and as each scene changed she was adorned in clothing of the season, and the tools of pass-time associated with the season. Her husband merely formed the background, standing inert in front of a beautiful house. Their garb changed with each season.

But they — he, and three children — remained motionless, waving into the camera, with a grin affixed upon their faces. The soulless camera grin — that goes well with "cheese."

The well dressed, well coiffed female, well decked out in her golf clubs, skis, etc, was gleefully mouthing something. Which I did not hear. (I do like to guess what an advert is trying to sell, without listening to the actual sale's pitch.)

Finally, the glorious "product" that gave her such joy and liberty was displayed: a brand-new, super-duper, guaranteed to provide a lifetime of freedom and entertainment: the latest in intrauterine birth control devices. "Flip, flip, snap, snap," showed the close-up of the small but potent provider of impotency.

There you have it, folks, the fixed (I don't mean "fixed," you know, for that would have rendered the product extraneous) hubby and three kids. I concluded that it had to be three so that the woman could not be said to be negatively contributing to the irreversible diminution of the population. We are told, by population statisticians, that the replacement rate for maintaining a stable (demographically/ economically stable, not mentally or morally stable) population is 2.5 children per married (I'm sure they have adjusted this language) family. So, to be shown to be a responsible citizen, and since, as yet, science has not been able to produce ½ a functioning child, the advert had to contain three children. There the three stood with the father (I suppose, though nowadays one is never sure) as a rather useless grinning, technically-sterile backdrop, and resource for occasional amusement.

Satan's revanchism — revanche n. (from French) policy of a nation or an ethnic group to regain lost territory or status; revenge; act of retaliating ; Revanche (die) — German

n. revenge, vengeance, reprisal, retortion, retaliation; return match, competitive game played against a rival that beat the team the last time
has been, as we are told in Scripture it would be highly successful. Satan tantalizes the masses with Utopia, meaning, of course, Plutopia — the "underworld...Pluto being the god of the underworld," and his revanchist battle-cry has been "We shall retake Eden and make it a proper home for Man. It shall, thence, be known as Hedon."

Are we there yet? Oh yes! The Fall, which typically starts with November, certainly starts in November this year in the common-era 2010, which used to be called Anno Domini...the Year of Our Lord.

Lastly! God forbid that any one has the audacity to blame God. We had our chance, and we surrendered it. When courage and action were required, we hibernated with our material gains and amusements. And those ordained to lead God's people, they, instead, pleaded for new funds for the bloating campus. As Donald Wildmon sadly observed, "Three-hundred thousand pulpits were silent."

God is innocent. We are guilty. The most important word in all of Scripture is that tiny universe, "If." The "If" is what we ignored.

© Frank Maguire


The views expressed by RenewAmerica columnists are their own and do not necessarily reflect the position of RenewAmerica or its affiliates.
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Frank Maguire

(Frank Maguire passed away on May 19, 2021. His obituary can be read here.

Frank Maguire was born in Dorchester, MA, 1938, attended schools in Massachusetts, California, and Arizona, where he completed degrees in music and English writing/Journalism. Frank has been married to Helen Isabel Maguire Estevez of Culver City, California, since 1957. They have six children, 14 grandchildren, and 17 great-grandchildren.


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