INTRODUCTION: There's something about Switzerland. Earlier on there was this piece on Von Daniken and why we are all living a lie. The world is not what it seems. It is as Matrix as old Egypt. All this if you are willing to take a joyride on the chariots of the gods.
The other swiss, Barth. The name alone could cause a bar brawl. Heck, Logan would be jealous! The last time Barth appeared, dogs were barking, yahoos were brawling, blogs were a closing! (*Stan Archives: The original Uncle Screwtape and a very messy but dearly missed Jeremiah Blues) It is still an evolutionary mystery when or when the scribe La Tey will be writing his piece on this anointed swiss.
Then there's this swiss - Francis Schaeffer. The man who struggled to make a difference. The man who saw the emerging post-christian world. The man who has been quoted by both the bastard sons of evangelickals and the assholes-emergent yahoos. The man who once thundered that we need to relook our world views for it is too narrow. The one who foresaw the great evangelical disaster. How his words fell on deaf ears! The one who lighted three candles and prayed that the lost generations could find a way in the darkness - He is there and He is not silent, The God who is there, Escape from Reason. I remembered the first time I picked up Schaeffer. I was told by the worthy librarian that it is a deep book best read by adults. I wonder if the librarian is still alive today? It would be great injustice if he were not to survive these great epoch where the 'adults' that he so honored are now fucking up the very deepness of his fucking adult religion. The second time I read Schaeffer was at this god forsaken office of another bastard adult. Anyway Schaeffer left me disturbed. Left me questioning my beliefs, my foundation. That's not a bad thing. Schaeffer contributed to MY post-christian existence. The third time I encountered Schaeffer was at a public library. What a nice old gentleman like him doing in a dump like that is beyond me. I took that tattered manuscript and brought it home, to repair. It was too damaged to be read. So i returned it. The next time I saw Schaeffer he seized me by the neck and demanded that I stood 40 days and night with him. This I complied and the madness of the years came back to me. In insanity I saw the world as it is and demanded a change in my worldviews. Thus I survived. It was many years later that I relooked Schaeffer and could actually afford the Trilogy. God knows how many times that old geezer has pulled me off the edge of the abyss. Time was lives were forged by fire. Time now you can get your B.Sc (Hons) by watching youtube. There is no shortcut but through the fire. Time was hungry students driven half-mad by lies had to struggle through pages of manuscript by Schaeffer. The old man did not have all the answers, not then and certainly not now. But he insist we not only survive put prevail over our post-christian existence. Time was, lives were forged by fire. Time now it still is.
In our modern forms of specialized education there is a tendency to lose the whole in the parts, and in this sense we can say that our generation produces few truly educated people. True education means thinking by associating across the various disciplines, and not just being highly qualified in one field, as a technician might be. I suppose no discipline has tended to think more in fragmented fashion than the orthodox or evengelical theology of today.
- Francis Schaeffer
EPILOGUE: Pltypus nodding to Schaeffer over Nanyang Coffee, listening to various headbanging mutation (Loudness, Helloween, Sweet Charity...), having a great time surfing youtube for rock nusantara, watching the great advisors out talk everyone else while war converge on two kingdoms.