The Formal System, Part 2
This will be short
The Formal System I wrote about yesterday is real. It’s the system God designed and implemented.
He reveals it to us in various ways. Scripture is one. The observable universe another.
He also keeps much hidden from us. Or reveals only in shadow.
He hid the fact that planets circle around stars. He hid the fact that germs stress the body, sometimes to the point of disease. Maybe he’s hiding a pets-per-human ratio, too. And a billion other rules we haven’t recognized yet.
Chesterton made an argument in his book Orthodoxy that fairy tales are real and reason is sentiment.
It is the man who talks about "a law" that he has never seen who is the mystic. Nay, the ordinary scientific man is strictly a sentimentalist. He is a sentimentalist in this essential sense, that he is soaked and swept away by mere associations. He has so often seen birds fly and lay eggs that he feels as if there must be some dreamy, tender connection between the two ideas, whereas there is none.
The Branch Covidians prove him right.
Look at the faith those hapless souls put in their vaccines. Even the rationalist would say they’re being superstitious and blind.
For months we were told the vaccines prevented (95 to 100 percent) infection and transmission.
In August, the story changed, and the vaccinated were told to wear masks.
In October, it changed again.
In the last few weeks, the story changed dramatically. The CEO of Pfizer, of all people, admitted on CNBC:
“Two doses of the vaccine offers very limited protection, if any. Three doses with a booster offer reasonable protection against hospitalization and deaths. Less protection against infection.”
— Albert Bourla, Pfizer CEO
Branch Covidians cannot understand Bourla’s words. They’re like the people of Babel after the Tower fell. It’s all gibberish to them. They only know “safe and effective.”
Covidians believe what they want to believe, the fairy tale they were told in March, April, May, June, and July by Bourla, Fauci, and Biden: that vaccines make you invincible.
Alex Berenson published a devastating blog post about people’s blindness to the reality of the vaccines:
I’m stealing a few of his screenshots to demonstrate what insane superstition looks like:
There is absolutely ZERO scientific research to support a booster. Zero. None. Even the CEO of the company that’s sold about 2/3 of the vaccines to date admits three shots might only reduce your chances of dying. Three shots will not prevent you from getting Covid or from spreading it.
Yet, The New York Times and the BBC write wildly speculative articles based purely on superstition that three doses (and a magic incantation) might work. “Mixing and matching” might be the magic spell that delivers the protection promised.
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.
We who pray to an invisible God are mocked as superstitious by those who believe in a manmade serum concocted with the cells of aborted babies and graphene that has proven defective and dangerous since its release.
What could be more superstitious and, frankly, pathetic than that desperate New York Times headline: Why they just might work. Might as well cross your fingers and pinky-swear while you’re at it.
Only a few weeks ago, the Branch Covidians made me angry. Now, to paraphrase William F. Buckley, they elicit from me the sort of pity one normally feels for the ignorance of animals. Worse because animals lack the human capacity for reason and critical thinking. And worse, still, because animals lack the revelation of God that man alone was created in His image and likeness and that He deigned to become one of us to ransom us from our slavery to this world if only we would keep and share His commandments until He comes again.
I believe in that formal system in which demons can go into swine only by Christ’s permission. I disbelieve in the superstition that inspires the headlines of The New York Times.
G. K. Chesterton. Orthodoxy . E-Bookarama. Kindle Edition.
William Shakespeare, MacBeth