Fear

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From We Were Here (2011)

  WE WERE HERE CaptionMax Page 8 3/23/2011 there were these little Polaroid photographs uh, that this young man had made of himself. There were at least three, maybe four of them. Uh, the first one was like this. (gestures, mouth open) And inside... these big, purple splotches. And then there was another picture, and he had taken his shirt and pulled it up like this. It was of his chest. These big purple splotches. And they were just on the window, and underneath it was a handwritten note that said something like, watch out, guys. There’s something out there. Something like that. And uh, oh my God, it made this huge impact on me. And then like I was really stoned, and I went and watched the movie, and with the whole movie, I was just thinking about that. It really made an impact on me. I went to see the movies with my- a friend of mine named Michael, and he and I worked together, and he had woken up kind of recently with this like red splotch in his eye. And he kept going like, what is this? What is this? And um, he um, he had been going to the eye doctor, and they hadn’t been able to figure out what it was, and-- (sighs) You know, uh-- Um, it turned out to be KS. He had KS in his eye. So it was right there in the movie lying with us, like already. Like it was already there. 1:17:57 REPORTER (VO) The pictures show the progression of how a few red bumps turn into the mark of Kaposi’s Sarcoma. It’s a rare cancer normally found in the elderly, but now it’s striking young men, most of whom are gay, like Bobby Campbell. After one month, tests are still being done on the red bumps on his foot. 1:18:13 BOBBY CAMPBELL I don’t know how I got it. I fit the profile, kind of the typical Kaposi’s patient in my age in that I’m gay and-- But I don’t know how I got it. 1:18:26 ON-SCREEN TEXT (on newspaper and headline clip) Gay Men’s Strange Diseases Mysterious gay cancer 1:18:26 DANIEL (VO/ON) The first time I heard about AIDS, I think it was called the gay cancer. It was KS. It was terrifying. And we had friends who were dying r- r- right at the beginning of the epidemic. I mean, this one person who helped my career greatly, who was a curator of the Brooklyn Museum, gave me a show at the Brooklyn Museum, and he died before the show happened. And that was bef- we-- Now,

• From The Case for God (2009)

  But these were only temporary conglomerations; eventually these objects would disintegrate, and the atoms of which they were made would mill around in the void until they formed another object. Even though the naturalists could not prove their theories, some of their insights were remarkable. In attempting to find a simple, first principle as an explanation for the cosmos, Thales and Anaximenes had already started to think like scientists. Parmenides realized that the moon reflects the light of the sun; Democritus’s atomism would be revived to great effect during the seventeenth-century scientific revolution. But some of their contemporaries were doubtful about the new philosophy, fearing that in seeking to know the mysteries of the cosmos, the phusikoi were dangerously guilty of hubris. They were like the Titan Prometheus, who had stolen fire from the gods and given it to men so that they could develop technology. But Zeus had retaliated by having the divine craftsman Hephaestus fashion the first woman, Pandora, who was beautiful but evil, the source of the world’s sorrow. The mathematician Pythagoras (570–500), however, took science in a different direction. 7 He had been born and educated on the island of Samos, off the Ionian coast, where he became famous for his asceticism and mystical insight, and had studied in Mesopotamia and Egypt before settling in southern Italy. There he established a religious community, dedicated to the cult of Apollo and the Muses, where the study of mathematics, astronomy, geometry, and music were not merely tools for the exploration of the physical world but also spiritual exercises. Apart from his famous theorem of the right-angled triangle, we know very little about Pythagoras himself—later Pythagoreans tended to attribute their own discoveries to the Master—but it may have been he who coined the term philosophia, the “love of wisdom.” Philosophy was not a coldly rational discipline but an ardent spiritual quest that would transform the seeker. This was the kind of philosophy that would develop in Athens during the fourth century; the rationalism of classical Greece would not consist of abstract speculation for its own sake. It was rather rooted in a search for transcendence and a dedicated practical lifestyle. Pythagoras’s vision was in part shaped by religious changes in Greece during the sixth century. The Greeks had a uniquely tragic vision of the world. Their rituals were designed to teach participants to come to terms with the sorrow of life by making them face up squarely to the unspeakable. Every year at the festival of Thesmophoria, for example, they reenacted the story of Demeter, goddess of the grain that provided the economic basis of civilization. 8 She had borne Zeus a beautiful daughter called Persephone. Even though he knew that Demeter would never agree to the match, Zeus had betrothed the girl to his brother Hades, lord of the underworld, and helped him to abduct her.

• From City of Night (1963)

  Then, in that unexpected way, he said this: “If I told you, right now, that I love you—and you believed it—what would you do?” I laughed, but Im sure hes aware that it’s a forced laugh—much like the laughter outside.... I had never stayed around anyone long enough to hear those words, except during the sex-scenes: words spoken over and over by hundreds of people, meaning the same thing each time—nothing.... I remembered that night in New York when I had made the decision that it would be with many, many people—through many rooms, through many parks, through many streets and bars—that I would explore that world. And what, really, had prompted that decision? An attempt to shred the falsely lulling, sheltered innocence of my childhood, yes. But had it also been, at least in part, fear?—a corrosive fear of vulnerability with which the world, with its early manifested coldness, had indoctrinated me; imbued in others: a world which you soon come to see as an emotional jungle; in which you learn very early that you are the sum-total of yourself, nothing more. I laughed again. “Im not sure what I’d do—if you told me that—and I believed it,” I said. “Maybe youre right: Maybe I would run away.... I mean: that word—... ‘love,’” and I had to pause before I could even bring myself to say it, and I smiled in order to emphasize that I wasnt taking the word seriously, “if such a thing exists as other than some sort of way-off thing, Way Out There, somewhere—if it exists more than as merely four letters—like ‘fuck,’” I said, trying to destroy the expected gravity of his answering words, to thwart it by anticipating it, “well, I dont really believe it.” The fact that with this man I can no longer resort to the street act of unconcern—and the intense sobriety after neardrunkenness—make me speak much more easily than I have before. “I guess the whole screwed-up world would have to change before I could feel that there was such a thing.” Laughing purposely now, I said: “And if there is such a thing as what you call ‘love,’ just the mention of it should send rockets into the sky.” “Be careful,” he warned, also laughing. “They may begin to do that outside at any moment. Then where would you be?” He added seriously: “But it doesnt have to be like that. No rockets. Just the absence of loneliness. Thats love enough. In fact, that can be the strongest kind of love.... When you dont believe it’s even possible, then you substitute sex. Life becomes what you fill in with between orgasms. And how long does an orgasm last? People—... people hunting different people every night—even someone they dont really want: They close their eyes, pretend it’s someone else.... The furtive, anonymous dumbshows in public toilets, in parks....”

• From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

  I said then. ‘Who would offer us a spot?’ ‘The manager here would. Tonight. I’ve already spoken with him -’ ‘Tonight!’ ‘Just one song. He’ll find space for you in his programme; and if they like you, he’ll keep you there.’ ‘Tonight...’ I looked at Walter in dismay. His face was very kind, and his eyes seemed bluer and more earnest than ever. But what he said made me tremble. I thought of the hall, hot and bright and filled with jeering faces. I thought of that stage, so wide and empty. I thought: I cannot do it, not even for Walter’s sake. Not even for Kitty’s. I made to shake my head. He saw, and quickly spoke again - spoke, perhaps for the first time in all the months that I had known him, with something that was almost guile. He said: ‘You know, of course, that we cannot throw over the idea of the double act, now that we have hit upon it. If you don’t wish to partner Kitty, there’ll be some other girl who does. We can spread the word, place notices, audition. You mustn’t feel that you are letting Kitty down...’ I looked from him to the stage, where Kitty herself sat on the edge of a beam of limelight, sipping at her cup, swinging her legs, and smiling at some word of the conductor’s. The thought that she might take another partner - might stroll before the footlights with another girl’s arm through hers, another girl’s voice rising and blending with her own - had not occurred to me. It was more ghastly than the image of the jeering hall; more ghastly than the prospect of being laughed and hissed off a thousand, thousand stages... So when Kitty stood in the wing of the theatre that night, waiting for the chairman’s cry, I stood beside her, sweating beneath a layer of grease-paint, biting my lips so hard I thought they would bleed. My heart had beat fast for Kitty before, in apprehension and passion; but it had never thudded as it thudded now - I thought it would burst right out of my breast, I thought I should be killed with fright. When Walter came to whisper to us, and to fill our pockets with coins, I could not answer him. There was a juggling turn upon the stage.

• From Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of Nike (2016)

  “Holland says we need to get our asses down to the bank. Pronto.” Next thing I knew, we were all sitting in a conference room at the Bank of California. On one side of the table were Holland and two nameless men in suits. They looked like undertakers. On the other side were Hayes and I. Holland, somber, opened. “Gentlemen...” Not good, I thought. “Gentlemen?” I said. “Gentlemen? Perry, it’s us.” “Gentlemen, we’ve decided we no longer want your business at this bank.” Hayes and I stared. “Does that mean you’re throwing us out?” Hayes asked. “It does indeed,” Holland said. “You can’t do that,” Hayes said. “We can and we are,” Holland said. “We’re freezing your funds, and we will no longer honor any more checks you write on this account.” “Freezing our—! I don’t believe this,” Hayes said. “Believe it,” Holland said. I said nothing. I wrapped my arms around my torso and thought, This isn’t good, this isn’t good, this isn’t good. Never mind the embarrassment, the hassles, the cascade of bad consequences that would follow if Holland threw us out. All I could think of was Nissho. How would they react? How would Ito react? I pictured myself telling the Ice Man that we couldn’t give him his million dollars. It chilled me down to my marrow. I don’t remember the end of that meeting. I don’t remember leaving the bank, or walking out, or going across the street, or getting on the elevator, or riding it to the top floor. I only recall shaking, violently shaking, as I asked for a word with Mr. Ito. The next thing I recall is Ito and Sumeragi taking Hayes and me into their conference room. They could sense that we were fragile. They led us to chairs, and they both looked at the floor as I spoke. Kei. Much kei. “Well,” I said, “I have some bad news. Our bank... has thrown us out.” Ito looked up. “Why?” he said. His eyes hardened. But his voice was surprisingly soft. I thought of the wind atop Mount Fuji. I thought of the gentle breeze stirring the ginkgo leaves in the Meiji gardens. I said, “Mr. Ito, do you know how the big trading companies and banks ‘live on the float’? Okay, we at Blue Ribbon tend to do that, too, from time to time, including last month. And the fact of the matter is, sir, well, we missed the float. And now the Bank of California has decided to kick us out.” Sumeragi lit a Lucky Strike. One puff. Two. Ito did the same. One puff. Two. But on the exhale, the smoke didn’t seem to come from his mouth. It seemed to emanate from deep down inside him, to curl from his cuffs and shirt collar. He looked into my eyes. He bored into me. “They should not have done that,” he said. My heart stopped midbeat. This was an almost sympathetic thing for Ito to say.

• From The Case for God (2009)

  Some extremists have even murdered doctors and nurses who work in abortion clinics. Like evolution, abortion has become symbolic of the murderous evil of modernity. Christian fundamentalists are convinced that their doctrinal “beliefs” are an accurate, final expression of sacred truth and that every word of the Bible is literally true—an attitude that is a radical departure from mainstream Christian tradition. They believe that miracles are an essential hallmark of true faith and that God will give the believer anything he asks for in prayer. Fundamentalists are swift to condemn people whom they regard as the enemies of God: most Christian fundamentalists see Jews and Muslims as destined for hellfire, and some regard Buddhism, Hinduism, and Daoism as inspired by the devil. Jewish and Muslim fundamentalists take a similar stance, each seeing their own tradition as the only true faith. Muslim fundamentalists have toppled governments, and some extremists have been guilty of terrorist atrocities. Jewish fundamentalists have founded illegal settlements in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip with the avowed intention of driving out the Arab inhabitants, convinced that they are paving the way for the Messiah; others throw stones at Israelis who drive their cars on the Sabbath . In all its forms, fundamentalism is a fiercely reductive faith. In their anxiety and fear, fundamentalists often distort the tradition they are trying to defend. They can, for example, be highly selective in their reading of scripture. Christian fundamentalists quote extensively from the book of Revelation and are inspired by its violent End-time vision but rarely refer to the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus tells his followers to love their enemies, to turn the other cheek, and not to judge others. Jewish fundamentalists rely heavily on the Deuteronomist sections of the Bible and seem to pass over the rabbis’ injunction that exegesis should lead to charity. Muslim fundamentalists ignore the pluralism of the Qur’an, and extremists quote its more aggressive verses to justify violence, pointedly disregarding its far more numerous calls for peace, tolerance, and forgiveness. Fundamentalists are convinced that they are fighting for God, but in fact this type of religiosity represents a retreat from God. To make purely human, historical phenomena—such as “family values,” “the Holy Land,” or “Islam”—sacred and absolute is idolatry, and, as always, their idol forces them to try to destroy its opponents. But it is essential for critics of religion to see fundamentalism in historical context. Far from being typical of faith, it is an aberration. The fundamentalist fear of annihilation is not a paranoid delusion. We have seen that some of the most formative creators of the modern ethos have indeed called for the abolition of religion—and they continue to do so.

• From From Jesus to Constantine: A History of Early Christianity (2004)

  1. Why do you imagine that a set of religions that was otherwise so tolerant (paganism) would be so intolerant of the Christian religion? 2. Why do you suppose that the Christian persecutions appear to have sprung from the ground up (that is, from the pagan mobs), rather than from the top down (that is, from the imperial authorities)? 166 Lecture Eleven—Transcript The Early Persecutions of the State In the previous two lectures, we saw how Christianity spread throughout the Roman world. There, I argued that the religion spread by word of mouth, and proved attractive to some pagans because the Christian God appeared to be so powerful, capable of doing great miracles for his people. Moreover, the exclusive claims of the Christians—that their God alone was the true God and all others were false, that their views alone were right and that all others were wrong—were unique in that world and facilitated the spread of Christianity, in that it necessarily destroyed the other religions when pagans converted to Christianity. This made Christianity unique; it destroyed the other religions in its wake. It would be a mistake, though, to think that the conversion of the empire happened quickly and unproblematically, for, in fact, there were major obstacles, seen in the circumstance that most pagans (as most Jews before them) rejected the Christian message, found it offensive and worthy of violent opposition. In this lecture, and the three that follow, we will consider the persecution of Christians throughout the empire during the first three centuries. We have numerous accounts of Christian persecution, some of them by Christian authors who celebrate the torture and martyrdom of the faithful as signs of divine favor, others of them by Roman authors, who considered the Christians’ refusal to give up their religion in the face of torture and death to be reprehensible and idiotic. We will begin our reflections by considering one of the most graphic and significant first-hand reports of a significant persecution against Christians, which happened in the towns of Vienne and Lyons in ancient Gaul, which would be modern-day France. This persecution took place in the middle of the second century, during the reign of the Roman emperor, Marcus Aurelius. We happen to have an account of the persecution of Christians from a first-hand source. There was a letter that was written by Christians who survived the persecution. The letter was addressed to other Christians who lived in Asia Minor. It has been preserved for us in the writings of the fourth-century church historian Eusebius. 167

• From Birthday Girl (2018)

  Me sacude. —Quieres tener sexo, entonces ve a conseguirlo en otro lugar. Inhalo y me giro para alejarme de él, empujando su cuerpo. Está en lo correcto. ¿Qué estoy haciendo? ¿Por qué habría de hacer eso? Me siento tan estúpida y me agacho, recogiendo rápidamente mi camiseta y mis zapatos. Pero no me lo estaba imaginando, ¿verdad? Hubo algo entre nosotros y venía tanto de él como de mí. ¿Solo vi lo que quería ver? Quiero gritar. Lágrimas bajan por mi rostro y simplemente se queda ahí parado, fulminándome con la mirada. —Ve a tu habitación —ordena. Se me sale una risa, el sonido es amargo goteando con incredulidad. —¡Vete a la mierda! —Me enderezo, endureciendo mi voz—. Esta noche encontraré otra cama, gracias. Cualquiera lo haría con una puta como yo, ¿verdad? Me giro rápidamente y corro hacia la puerta trasera, pero agarra el interior de mi codo y me arrastra hacia la pared de su pecho. Dejo caer mi camiseta y mis zapatos y nos obliga a movernos hacia adelante contra la pared de la casa. Estiro mis manos rápidamente, chocando contra el revestimiento. Jesús. Tiemblo, respirando entrecortadamente mientras mi corazón se acelera y mi sangre corre caliente bajo mi piel. ¿Qué demo...? Su mano me rodea, tomando mi rostro y su aliento caliente en mi oreja. —No me amenaces con una mierda como esa. Si quieres actuar como una mocosa, entonces tal vez debería castigarte como una, ¿eh? Casi me río a través de las lágrimas secándose en mi rostro. —Por supuesto —me burlo—. Me muero por ver cómo intentas controlarme. Ni siquiera puedes hacer que Cole haga sus quehaceres y ¿cuándo fue la última vez que una mujer consiguió excitarse en tu cama? Ni siquiera eres un hombre. Gruñe y su palma choca contra la casa frente a mí. Salto. Y lo siguiente que sé es que su mano está en mi cabello y mi cabeza está siendo girada hacia el costado mientras sus labios se estrellan contra los míos.

• From Birthday Girl (2018)

  Abro la puerta de un tirón y entro, lanzándole una mirada dura mientras todavía está sentado en el auto. —Vete a casa. Y cierro la puerta de nuevo, girando la cerradura y retrocediendo como si fuera a intentar derribarla. Me quedo allí, respirando con dificultad y temblando. No permitirá que eso pase. No hará nada esta noche, porque hubiera salido del auto más rápido de lo que yo hubiera podido llegar a la puerta del bar si fuera a intentarlo, pero estará lo suficientemente enojado como para no olvidarlo. Fue un error de seis meses que cometí en la escuela secundaria, pero no volveré a ser tan estúpida. Mi guardia está arriba ahora. Y no vino a llevarme a casa esta noche. No directamente, de todos modos. Tal vez después de haber terminado conmigo. Cierro los ojos, tratando de ahogar el recuerdo de él golpeando la ventana de mi auto una noche mientras yo trataba frenéticamente de poner la llave en el contacto. Todavía puedo sentir el fuego en mi cuero cabelludo donde jaló mi cabello. Me doy la vuelta y abro los ojos, alejando los pensamientos. Después de un momento, escucho el rugido del motor más allá de la barra y los neumáticos chirriando por la calle. Se ha ido. Pongo mi bolso en la barra y corro por el pasillo, deslizándome por los baños, revisando las cerraduras de la puerta trasera, abriéndola y volviendo a cerrarla, tirando del mango para asegurarme que no abre, y luego vuelvo a correr al frente y reviso la puerta de entrada nuevamente y las ventanas. Sacando el teléfono de mi bolso, me siento en un taburete de la barra, agarrándolo con mi puño. ¿A quién llamo? Probablemente Jay esté diciendo la verdad. Cole está borracho de nuevo. ¿Por qué haría eso? Sabía que estaba contando con él para que me buscara. Estoy segura que no sabe que Jay fue quien vino en su lugar, pero aun así... podría malditamente matarlo. Trago el dolor que sube por mi garganta. Llamo a mi hermana, pero como siempre, va al correo de voz. Probablemente ya está saliendo del trabajo o está en casa durmiendo. ¿Mi papá? ¿Madrastra?

• From The Case for God (2009)

  21 But the meteoric explosion of this type of faith indicated widespread unhappiness with the modern rational ethos. It developed at a time when people were beginning to have doubts about science and technology, which had shown their lethal potential during the Great War. Pentecostalists were also reacting against the more conservative Christians who were trying to make their Biblebased religion entirely reasonable and scientific. As A. C. Dixon, one of the founding fathers of Protestant fundamentalism, explained in 1920, “I am a Christian because I am a Thinker, a Rationalist, a Scientist.” His faith depended upon “exact observation and correct thinking.” Doctrines were not theological speculations but facts. 22 Evangelical Christians still aspired to the early modern ideal of absolute certainty based on scientific verification. Yet fundamentalists would also see their faith experiences— born-again conversions, faith healing, and strongly felt emotional conviction—as positive verification of their beliefs. Dixon’s almost defiant rationalism indicates, perhaps, a hidden fear. With the Great War, an element of terror had entered conservative Protestantism in the United States. Many believed that the catastrophic encounters at the Somme and Passchendaele were the battles that, according to scripture, would usher in the Last Days; many Christians were now convinced that they were on the front line of an apocalyptic war against Satan. The wild propaganda stories of German atrocities seemed proof positive that they had been right to fight the nation that had spawned the Higher Criticism. 23 But they were equally mistrustful of democracy, which carried overtones of the “mob rule” and “red republic” that had erupted in the atheistic Bolshevik revolution (1917). 24 These American Christians no longer saw Jesus as a loving savior; rather, as the leading conservative Isaac M. Haldeman proclaimed, the Christ of Revelation “comes forth as one who no longer seeks either friendship or love. … He descends that he may shed the blood of men.” 25 Every single fundamentalist movement that I have studied in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam is rooted in profound fear. 26 For Dixon and his conservative Protestant colleagues, who were about to establish the first fundamentalist movement of modern times, it was a religious variation of the widespread malaise that followed the Great War, and it made them distort the tradition they were trying to defend. They were ready for a fight, but the conflict might have remained in their own troubled minds had not the more liberal Protestants chosen this moment to launch an offensive against them. The liberals were appalled by the apocalyptic fantasies of the conservatives. But instead of criticizing them on biblical and doctrinal grounds, they hit quite unjustifiably below the belt. Their assault reflected the acute anxieties of the postwar period and, at this time of national trauma, was calculated to elicit outrage, fury, and a determination to retaliate. Fundamentalism—be it Jewish, Christian, or Muslim—nearly always begins as a defensive movement; it is usually a response to a campaign of coreligionists or fellow countrymen that is experienced as inimical and invasive.

• From From Jesus to Constantine: A History of Early Christianity (2004)

  ©2004 The Teaching Company. 54 D. In this lecture and the three that follow, we will consider the persecution of Christians throughout the empire during the first three centuries. E. We have numerous accounts of Christian persecution, some by Christian authors who celebrated the torture and martyrdom of the faithful as signs of divine favor, others by Roman authors who considered the Christians’ refusal to give up their religion in the face of torture and death to be reprehensible and idiotic. II. We can begin our reflections by considering one of the most graphic and significant firsthand reports of a significant persecution against Christians, which occurred in the towns of Vienne and Lyons in Gaul (modern-day France) in the middle of the second century. A. The account is preserved for us in a letter written by the Christians who survived the persecution to Christians in Asia Minor and preserved for us in the writings of the fourth-century church historian Eusebius. B. The account indicates that the driving force behind the persecution was the devil, who inspired the mobs to oppose Christians and deprive them of public privileges and civil rights. C. The anger of the mobs against the Christians increased, and they physically assaulted the Christians and finally urged the authorities to have those professing faith in Christ to be arrested. D. The general unacceptability of the Christians was heightened by the claims of some of their slaves that Christians engaged in highly immoral and illegal activities, including cannibalistic practices and incestuous orgies. E. We then have an account of the arrest, trials, torture, and martyrdom of several Christians, including a church leader named Sanctus and a woman named Blandina. 1. The narrative provides graphic details of the public torments that these Christians endured (beatings, floggings, the rack, the iron seat). 2. It also stresses their absolute refusal to abandon their Christian faith, despite such horrible suffering. 3. Eventually, these Christians were put to death by being thrown to wild beasts; their bodies were left on display as an

• From The Case for God (2009)

  In 1917, during a particularly dark period of the war, liberal theologians in the Divinity School of the University of Chicago launched a media offensive against the Moody Bible Institute on the other side of town. 27 They accused these biblical literalists of being in the pay of the Germans and compared them to atheistic Bolsheviks. Their theology was, according to the Christian Register , “the most astounding mental aberration in the field of religious thinking.” 28 The conservatives responded in kind, retorting that, on the contrary, it was the pacifism of the liberals that had caused America to fall behind in the arms race; 29 it was they who had been in league with the Germans, since the Higher Criticism that the liberals admired had caused the collapse of decent values in Germany. 30 For decades, the Higher Criticism had been surrounded with a nimbus of evil. This type of symbolism, which takes the debate beyond the realm of logic and dispassionate discussion, is a persistent feature of fundamentalist movements. In 1920, Dixon, Reuben A. Torrey, and William B. Riley officially established the World’s Christian Fundamentals Association to fight for the survival of both Christianity and the world. That same year, at a meeting of the Northern Baptist Convention, Curtis Lee Lewis defined the “fundamentalist” as a Christian who fought to regain territory already lost to the Antichrist and “to do battle royal for the fundamentals of the faith.” 31 The movement spread. Three years later, the fundamentalists were riding high, and it seemed as if they would succeed in gaining the upper hand in most of the Protestant denominations. But then a new campaign caught their attention, which brought fundamentalism, at least for a few decades, into disrepute. In 1920 the Democratic politician William Jennings Bryan (1860— 1925) launched a crusade against the teaching of evolution in schools and colleges; almost single-handedly, Bryan was responsible for ousting the Higher Criticism from the top of the fundamentalist agenda and putting Darwinism in its place. 32 He saw the two issues as indissolubly linked but regarded evolution as by far the more dangerous. Two books— Headquarter Nights (1917) by Vernon L. Kellogg and The Science of Power (1918) by Benjamin Kidd—had made a great impression on him. The authors reported interviews with German soldiers, who had testified to the influence that Darwinian ideas had played in Germany’s determination to declare war. This “research” convinced Bryan that evolutionary theory heralded the collapse of morality and decent civilization. His ideas were naive, simplistic, and incorrect, but people were beginning to be suspicious of science and he found a willing audience.

• From Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of Nike (2016)

  I couldn’t imagine him chatting up cannibals in New Guinea, or scouring Anasazi campsites with a toothbrush, sifting through goat dung for pottery shards. But these, he said, were merely his daytime drudgeries. On weekends he was following his heart, selling shoes. “No!” I said. “Adidas,” he said. “Screw Adidas,” I said, “you should work for me, help me sell these new Japanese running shoes.” I handed him a Tiger flat, told him about my trip to Japan, my meeting with Onitsuka. He bent the shoe, examined the sole. Pretty cool, he said. He was intrigued, but no. “I’m getting married,” he said. “Not sure I can take on a new venture right now.” I didn’t take his rejection to heart. It was the first time I’d heard the word “no” in months. LIFE WAS GOOD. Life was grand. I even had a sort of girlfriend, though I didn’t have much time for her. I was happy, maybe as happy as I’d ever been, and happiness can be dangerous. It dulls the senses. Thus, I wasn’t prepared for that dreadful letter. It was from a high school wrestling coach in some benighted town back east, some little burg on Long Island called Valley Stream or Massapequa or Manhasset. I had to read it twice before I understood. The coach claimed that he was just back from Japan, where he’d met with top executives at Onitsuka, who’d anointed him their exclusive American distributor. Since he’d heard that I was selling Tigers, I was therefore poaching, and he ordered me—ordered me!—to stop. Heart pounding, I phoned my cousin, Doug Houser. He’d graduated from Stanford Law School and was now working at a respected firm in town. I asked him to look into this Mr. Manhasset, find out what he could, then back the guy off with a letter. “Saying what, exactly?” Cousin Houser asked. “That any attempt to interfere with Blue Ribbon will be met with swift legal reprisal,” I said. My “business” was two months old and I was embroiled in a legal battle? Served me right for daring to call myself happy. Next I sat down and dashed off a frantic letter to Onitsuka. Dear Sirs, I was very distressed to receive a letter this morning from a man in Manhasset, New York, who claims...?

• From Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of Nike (2016)

  One living thing being eaten by another? This was nature, wet in tooth and claw, and I couldn’t help wondering if it was also to be the story of Blue Ribbon and the Marlboro Man. We spent the rest of the evening sitting at Johnson’s kitchen table and going over the letter from his Long Island informant. He read it aloud, and then I read it silently, and then we debated what to do. “Get thee to Japan,” Johnson said. “What?” “You gotta go,” he said. “Tell them about the work we’ve done. Demand your rights. Kill this Marlboro Man once and for all. Once he starts selling running shoes, once he really gets going, there will be no stopping him. Either we draw a line in the sand, right now, or it’s over.” I’d just come back from Japan, I said, and I didn’t have the money to go again. I’d poured all my savings into Blue Ribbon, and I couldn’t possibly ask Wallace for another loan. The thought nauseated me. Also, I didn’t have time. Price Waterhouse allowed two weeks’ vacation a year—unless you needed that two weeks for the Reserves, which I did. Then they gave you one extra week. Which I’d already used. Above all, I told Johnson, “It’s no use. The Marlboro Man’s relationship with Onitsuka predates mine.” Undaunted, Johnson pulled out his typewriter, the one he’d been using to torture me, and began drafting notes, ideas, lists, which we could then turn into a manifesto for me to deliver to the executives at Onitsuka. While Stretch finished off the crab, we munched our pizza and guzzled beer and plotted late into the night. BACK IN OREGON the next afternoon, I went straight in to see the office manager at Price Waterhouse. “I’ve got to have two weeks off,” I said, “right now.” He looked up from the papers on his desk and glared at me, and for one hellishly long moment I thought I was going to be fired. Instead, he cleared his throat and mumbled something... odd. I couldn’t make out every word but he seemed to think... from my intensity, my vagueness... I’d gotten someone pregnant. I took a step back and started to protest, then shut my mouth. Let the man think what he wants. So long as he gives me the time. Running a hand through his thinning hair, he finally sighed and said: “Go. Good luck. Hope it all works out.” I PUT THE airfare on my credit card. Twelve months to pay. And unlike my last visit to Japan, this time I wired ahead. I told the executives at Onitsuka that I was coming, and that I wanted a meeting. They wired back: Come ahead. But their wire went on to say that I wouldn’t be meeting with Morimoto. He was either fired or dead. There was a new export manager, the wire said. His name was Kitami. KISHIKAN. Japanese for déjà vu.

• From City of Night (1963)

  And, man, what a weirdo that old guy is. Dig: he pays by the hour, and talks, talks, talks!—hes a teacher or something—laid up in bed from an accident. I used to fall asleep—I’d wear sunglasses—and he never knew the difference, just kept on talking....” At least once I regretted not listening to Pete’s advice. “See that one over there?” he said, pointing to a harmless-looking middle-aged man in a raincoat. “Stay away from him, spote, hes psycho.” But remembering what he had told everyone about the theater whose manager wouldnt let him in, and remembering what he’d done to the hustler whod taken his score in the park, I figured this may be some kind of revenge on the man for whatever reason. The man looked entirely harmless, and I went with him. After we had made a very ordinary scene—and I still hadnt got any money from him—his composure changed suddenly into savage rage. Before I knew it, he had pulled a knife on me. I dashed out, down the creaking steps. Like a demon—his shadow flung grotesquely down the stairs—he stands at the landing shouting: “God! Damn! You! God damn all of you!” 4 Then, one day—in the midst of that cold bitter winter, when the snow cut across the streets like an icy knife and the wind shrieked like something from Hell—one day, the memory of my Mother—accentuated by the long painfully written three-times-a-week letters without punctuation asking when I would be Back, asking me to promise not to get into trouble—that memory seized me with a racking violence—and I decided to put down Times Square again—a pattern of guilt which would recur periodically. I got a job, with a Foundation dedicated to Spreading The Greatness of The American Way of Life. And I kept away from The Streets. At night I would stay home or go to the movies—but not on 42nd Street or The Others. But—again—that job lasted only briefly, and impulsively, I quit. The cold air outside struck me like my lost freedom, regained. That very night I was back on Times Square. “Where you been, spote?” Pete said. “I thought you got busted or something, I looked around for you. Dont split like that again, hear?” For the first time since I had known him, we shook hands. After that, I saw him more and more often. Sometimes—having scored—we would meet afterwards and sit in the automat at 42nd and Park Avenue (this appealed to him as Classier). He told me he was staying in the room which the black-dressed Al rented to keep his motorcycle clothes in. “He dont dig anyone staying there,” Pete told me, “but I finally conned him into letting me.” Yet, although I saw Pete at least once a day now, there was still the urgency, on both our parts, to split abruptly—to get away from each other. Occasionally, we would go see “Mom.”

• From City of Night (1963)

  He told me this without selfpity, merely as the recitation of his life. And I found that I was revealing myself to him, letting slide off more than ever before the mask I had protectively cultivated for the streets and bars. At times, I felt he knew even more about me than I told him, which alternately pleased and disturbed me. “Why do you hustle?” he asked me once. It was the first overt reference he had made to that, and it was the kind of statement that, from almost anyone else, I would quickly have put down. I was tempted to point out that I hadnt asked him for anything. Instead, I merely said. “I have to.” “Thats not true,” he challenged. “Youve told me youve worked.” Annoyed far beyond his question, I said: “Okay, then, I prefer to.” More and more, I was now in the bars or on the hustling streets only when I had to score. I avoided Main Street altogether. The craving for the sexual anarchy began to diminish for the first time since I had begun that journey through nightlives. I felt a great friendship for Dave (and an amount of pity for the paradoxical fact of him in a world of furtive contacts; he should be married, the father of adored children).... But all this, I told myself, was merely a welcome friendship in a period of ennui with the turbulence of the chosen world. Still, there were those times when a different kind of fear began to seize me. Im sitting with Dave in the outside arena of Pacific Ocean Park in Santa Monica, watching the animal circus. It’s a bright breezeless afternoon, when, miraculously, the usually hazy Los Angeles sky is purely clear, like a childhood-remembered Texas sky. “Miss Pinky! The Graceful Elephant!” The announcer, who has just introduced the next animal performer—“Miss Pinky”—leads a small elephant into the arena. Painted a garish purplish pink, the elephant wears a small, multicolored, flowered hat perched absurdly on the giant head, slightly bowed as if in shame. The liveried trainer puts the pink elephant through a series of dance routines, accompanied by music. The elephant with the ridiculously flowered hat goes doggedly through the motions of a hula, a mambo, a waltz. The trunk sways clumsily, enormous legs execute the steps ponderously. The flowered hat fell over one eye, and the trainer coaxed the elephant to push the hat back on with its trunk. The audience rocked with laughter. As the elephant lurched from side to side, the great ears as if rejecting the hat, the announcer says: “Miss Pinky isnt really a dainty young girl, Folks!

• From From Jesus to Constantine: A History of Early Christianity (2004)

  we. They were able to provide us with what we needed in order to thrive in this world: rain, health, prosperity, love, and peace. One of the motivating factors in ancient religion was the fear of the gods. Gods did not actively involve themselves in human affairs very often, or all the time, but gods were to be feared because they could bring calamity if things didn’t go well between the humans and the divine in their cultic experiences. If the gods were not worshipped in the way they were supposed to be worshipped, then, in fact, their wrath could be manifested against humans: earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes, famine, drought, disease. These were things that the gods could bring if they were not worshipped properly. Religion, therefore, sought the peace of the gods. This was a technical term in ancient religion, the pax deorum, the “peace of the gods.” If the gods were at peace both among themselves and with people, then things would go well, and so you wanted to make sure that the gods were on your side. Religion was a way of making sure that that happened. The gods did not demand a lot, in fact. The gods did not demand exclusive devotion. The gods did not insist that you spent all of your time concerned about them, but there were ritual practices that the gods had asked humans to follow, and when humans did this, then things went well. You maintained the peace of the gods. What were these ritual acts? Well, the gods were worshipped principally through acts of prayer, and especially, sacrifice, sacrifice of animals. Pagans had temples throughout their world. Some were majestic temples to the great gods, some were just small local temples. Even within the home, there might be a small sanctuary, a place dedicated to a god. Sacrifices to the gods were performed in the temples, in the sacred places that had been set up for the purpose. Often, in local city religion, there would be a particular day set aside for a particular sacrifice, and this was a time of celebration for ancient pagans. Most people in the ancient world didn’t eat meat very regularly. Meat would be eaten only during a time of sacrifice, and so this would be a party time. Suppose a city had a particular god, and they had a particular day in which they worshipped this particular god. They would perform a sacrifice in the temple. You would bring an animal to the temple. The priest sacrificed the animal. Then, they didn’t destroy the animal. This was how you got your meat. They might have burned some of the inedible portions. Those would be the portions for the god, but then they would cook the meat 29

• From Educated (2018)

  Luke had forgotten all about the gasoline … when he jammed the torch into his hip and struck flint to steel, flames burst from the tiny spark and engulfed his leg. … Luke was unable to get out of his gasoline-soaked jeans. … His footwear didn’t help, either … Luke might have severed the twine and hacked through the boots in a matter of seconds, but he went mad with panic and took off, dashing like a marked buck, spreading fire through the sagebrush and wheat grass …

• From The Case for God (2009)

  8 She had borne Zeus a beautiful daughter called Persephone. Even though he knew that Demeter would never agree to the match, Zeus had betrothed the girl to his brother Hades, lord of the underworld, and helped him to abduct her. Distraught with rage, Demeter left Olympus and withdrew all her gifts from humanity. Without corn, the people began to starve, so the Olympians arranged for Persephone’s return on condition that she spend four months each year with her husband. When Persephone was reunited with her mother, the earth burst into flower, but when she returned to Hades during the winter, it seemed to die in sympathy. Thesmophoria compelled the Greeks to imagine what might have happened if Demeter’s favors had been permanently withdrawn. Married women left their husbands and, like the goddess, disappeared from the polis. Together they fasted, slept on the ground as people had done in primitive times, and ritually cursed the male sex. The festival forced the Greeks to contemplate the destruction of civilization, which depended upon the institution of marriage, and to appreciate the real antagonism that existed between the sexes. They also meditated on the catastrophe that would ensue if the crops ceased to grow. At the end of the festival, the women went home and life returned to normal, but everybody knew that the alternative was a lurking, fearful possibility. As the concept of the individual developed in the polis, however, Greeks wanted a more personal spirituality alongside the public cult and developed the Mystery Cult. The word “mystery” needs clarification. The musterion was neither a hazy abandonment of rationality nor a self-indulgent wallowing in mumbo jumbo. In fact, the Mysteries would have a profound effect on the new philosophical rationalism. Musterion was closely related to myesis , “initiation;” it was not something that you thought (or failed to think!) but something that you did. 9 The Mysteries that developed during the sixth century were carefully constructed psychodramas in which mystai (“initiates”) had a direct and overwhelming experience of the sacred that, in many cases, entirely transformed their perception of life and death. The most famous of the Mysteries was celebrated annually at Eleusis, some twenty miles west of Athens. When Demeter had stormed off Mount Olympus after Persephone’s abduction, she wandered all over the earth, disguised as an old woman, searching for her daughter. Metaneira, queen of Eleusis, had taken her into the royal household as a nurse for her son Demophon, and to repay her kindness, Demeter decided to make the child divine by burning away his mortal parts each night in the fire.

• From Ulysses (Kindle edition — verify full work) (1922)

  "I Got Started Like Everyone Else Does [...] I Opened My Legs": Sexual Politics, Violence, and Desire in Eva's Man In Eva's Man, Jones illustrates these very notions regarding sexuality as an apparatus that has historically and systematically been used to subjugate, violate, and oppress. Just as sexuality has the ability to restrict and suppress, if it is to be liberated (and liberating), it necessitates rescue, and indeed transformation, especially where gender dynamics are concerned. This is, in part, what Jones attempts to illumine in Eva's Man. In this regard, the treatment of sexuality, as well as its function, in Jones's text is incomparable to the other novels in this study given the extent to which it is extremely overt and violent-not representative of black sexuality but more a commentary on its potential state. In Eva's Man, sexuality, perverse eroticism, and sexualized violence are ubiquitous, as sexual tension pervades and always escalates into violence; and, Eva, unlike most other characters, is always already confronted with it as if it is inevitable. Even as a child, full sexual disclosure is not precluded, as she learns at an early age about the precariousness of sex(uality). As an only child growing up in her two-parent home, one of her earliest recollections is that of her family and its unconventional dynamics. Such memories are not so much of its nuclear structure, but rather an infringement upon it, as evidenced by her mother's lover, Tyrone, and her extramarital affair: What I remember about the musician [Tyrone] was that he was ten years younger than my mother. [...] When my mother and the musician started going together, my father said nothing. He knew what was going on, but didn't say anything at all. My mother knew he knew, but she would bring the musician home when my father wasn't there. My father would know he'd been there, though, because the musician used to open his packets of cigarettes upside down. [...] And so when my father came home, whenever he'd been there, there'd always be an empty packet of cigarettes in the house, opened upside down. After a while it got so every day there was that packet of cigarettes. (25) While Eva's memory of this is unquestionable, as it is not characterized by a stream of consciousness, the passage is as suggestive and telling as it is rife with symbolism of the sexual. Eva never names Tyrone-consistently referring to him as "the musician," which is, in and of itself, somewhat detached and distancing-in the same fashion that her father, John, while aware of the affair and its intrusion upon his marriage, does not express anything: at least nothing verbally, in a way that evades and makes it appear as if they are "normalized" behaviors/circumstances.