David McElroy

I’m on the losing side of a bitter culture war. The hip postmodern folks won. The people they called prudes and squares — people like me — were the ones who lost.

The cool people don’t believe life has meaning or purpose. They don’t believe we came from anywhere or that we’re going anyplace. They say a person’s only real goals are pleasure and self-gratification.

If it feels good, do it. That’s their motto.

Of all the damaging effects of their sloppy thinking and slipshod ideas, it seems as though the worst have come from the mad rush to disconnect sex from love — and from the eagerness to unleash porn on immature and lustful people.

It’s not popular to talk about voluntary limits. Most people don’t want to see what these ideas are doing to those around them. They just want to laugh at the prudes who are dumb enough to disapprove. They don’t want to see the collateral damage of what they’re doing.

But if you look at the filth and degradation that are inside the minds of many millions of people today — and if you can see the damage they’re doing to themselves — you’ll see that this massive culture change has done serious damage that can never be undone.

The culture as a whole is doomed, but you can still decide whether this will affect you — or your children.

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Most of you shouldn’t waste your time listening to this. It’s not for everybody. It would bore most of you.

In Hermann Hesse’s great early 20th century novel, “Steppenwolf,” the protagonist, Harry Haller, encounters a strange place with a sign out front which says, “Magic theater. Entrance not for everybody. For madmen only.”

I feel almost like attaching such a sign here, because what I’m posting tonight is not for everybody. But for the few with the madness to want to go down this rabbit hole, I’ll offer it to everybody once — with a warning.

I’m recording something with no script or plan. It would bore most people. Honest. But I hope the right people might find it — maybe you — and somehow connect with me because of where this continuing conversation could lead. If you think there’s some madness about you that might eventually connect with the “magic theater” in my mind, enter by tapping or clicking below.

It’s really not for everybody.

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I’ve never had strong opinions about Urban Meyer. I knew he was a good college football coach — at Utah, Florida and Ohio State — but I didn’t know that much about his personal life. I knew he talked vaguely about faith at times, but many public figures do, so I didn’t think much about it.

Early this week, media was filled with talk about two videos showing the very married Meyer acting inappropriately last weekend with a young woman at his Columbus, Ohio-area restaurant, Urban Meyer’s Pint House. I eventually watched the videos and was mildly surprised. I had assumed he was a happily married and decent man who wouldn’t mess with other women, but I was wrong.

Because the incident had no relevance to my life, I didn’t think much about it after that, but the headlines continued about whether Meyer would be fired from his current job as coach of the NFL’s Jacksonville Jaguars.

I felt sorry for his wife, Shelley Meyer, who I thought must be hurt and angry and humiliated about what her husband had done. But then Shelley Meyer released a statement on social media that shocked me. Bizarrely, she seemed to think her husband’s fierce critics were the ones victimizing her.

In a strange way, her statement felt almost like a way to imply, “Well, boys will be boys.” Keep Reading