Last time, in Part 1, we covered Christian upbringing out in the country, and opined on a possible connection between morality and rural or urban locations. In the continuation of my interview with author Paul Hair, we talk Christianity, child rearing, and books worth reading.

Where I left off, I had just diagnosed Paul’s upbringing as “sheltered.” He disagreed, and went into some detail. We’ll pick up there:

PAUL: Public school exposed me to the world and worldly ways.

So I really didn’t experience culture shock when I hit the world…with one exception: professing Christians weren’t necessarily all that Christian outside of church (and this is what I meant when I mentioned my one major shock was sort of connected to Christianity). I continued realizing this throughout my 20s and even 30s. I think by my late 30s I fully realized that the people I worshiped next to in church weren’t necessarily the allies I thought they were. This isn’t to say I view fellow churchgoers askance; only that I do not assume that the person to my right and to my left believes what the Bible and God teach.

HANK: I’ve discovered through experience that most self-proclaimed Christians don’t study or believe the Bible. IOW, they don’t study or believe the teaching of Jesus. Therefore they don’t follow Christ, and therefore are not Christian. This is why I have begun calling them Churchians.

Of course, actual Christians will remember that we were warned a great apostasy was coming upon the Church. Message confirmed.

PAUL: In short, my upbringing was an advantage. It taught me the right way to live. So even when I chose the wrong thing as an adult, I always knew what the right thing was, which helped bring me back to the correct path.

As to if I would raise children the way my parents raised me: no—because it would be next-to-impossible to do so.

Our world is one where if your son declares he’s a girl you risk having the government take him away from you if you refuse to indulge that lie. Now imagine trying to raise a child in today’s world where you won’t allow him to listen to popular music, go to movie theaters, or watch disrespectful TV. Now throw in refusing him a cell phone and connectivity. On top of that, try spanking him or administering other types of corporal punishment.

How long until the government would take him away from me?

Perhaps the only place I would be able to try to raise children the way my parents raised me would be if I removed to some really remote place like Alaska, where even today the government would have a slightly harder than normal time accessing my children on a day-to-day basis. It might be possible to raise children like that without losing them. But even then it would be iffy.

That lifestyle is odd to the world; people view that as being a “Religious nut.” It wasn’t, of course. But, regrettably, I’ve let the world influence me too much instead of the other way around. I’ve lost a lot of those positive habits and practices, exchanging them for some worldly ones. That needs to be corrected.

But the only reason I know they need to be corrected is because of how my parents influenced me.

HANK: You just identified, in my opinion, a huge reason why the Church has become apostate: it has let the world influence it, rather than the Church influencing the world.

PAUL: Yes. And I don’t see much pushback on this.

Reading-wise (I didn’t forget about that part of the question), I read books that everyone knows (such as “The Hardy Boys,” The Island of the Blue Dolphin, Sounder, and so forth) and books that no one has heard of (such as “The Sugar Creek Gang” series of books).

My parents encouraged reading. Also, because my TV and video game time was limited, and because I didn’t listen to music or go to movies, that was a great thing to do when I was bored or when I needed a break from working and playing outside in the heat of summer or the bitter cold of winter.

School also provided me with an opportunity to read. That exposed me to Shakespeare, which I discovered I enjoyed. We read Beowulf, Chaucer, Austen, Dickens, and at least one of the Brontë sisters. Jane Eyre remains a book I enjoy. I also learned to like American literature. We read books such as Call of the Wild, Of Mice and Men, The Martian Chronicles, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and so forth.

For the longest time, Huck Finn was my favorite book. But then, as an adult, when I realized that teachers and scholars liked it so much because it was “an indictment of America,” I lost a lot of respect for it. I lost even more respect for it when I discovered that Samuel Clemons was a less-than-decent guy. (Yes, I know, we’re not supposed to judge books by the authors’ lives. If we did that, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy any book. Nevertheless, I remain firm in my reassessment of Huck Finn for my stated reasons.)

HANK: I wonder how old you were when the revelation occurred to you about Huck Finn. I’m guessing that, in addition to all their other villainy, your parents also raised you to (gasp! The horror!) love your country?

PAUL: Probably older than I should’ve been. Definitely in my thirties and perhaps mid to late thirties. And, yes, my parents did instill in me that patriotism is valuable.

Your question doesn’t address which books I enjoy as an adult but I’m going to throw a few in here anyway. I read both Frankenstein and Dracula, and liked them. (Specifically, I initially read the Bantam Classic editions of them. I was introduced to Bantam Classics by way of high school because the books are cheap. I’ve come to love these old books—the introductions to them, highly politically biased as they are, the smell of them, the feel of them, and the way they read.) Neither of the books is like any filmed adaptation available. Both books are much better. I later read the Cliff’s Complete edition of Frankenstein. Teachers hate Cliff Notes for good reason. But as an adult, when you’re committed to reading the actual book and not just the notes, Cliff Notes are quite helpful. And when you find a book that you enjoy, reading the Cliff’s Complete version of that book is an exceptionally enjoyable experience. It provides a wealth of background information and insight that expands the reading experience.

If you’d ask me to name my favorite book right now, I don’t know what that would be. In the past year I read A Princess of Mars (Penguin Classics edition—another good series) and liked that. But I’d probably go with A Light in the Forest by Conrad Richter. It’s a novella written in the 1950s. It’s an easy read but also very literate. Exceptional ending that is tragic and yet very satisfying.

HANK: I’m glad you talked about your current reading proclivities despite my failure to bring it up. It sounds like you rather enjoy “literary” fiction as well as some genre work. By the way, I also quite enjoyed A Princess of Mars. If you are ever again in a mood for some classic pulpy sci-fi, you might want to check out Armageddon: 2019 AD by Philip Francis Nowlan. It’s the original Buck Rogers novel.

PAUL: Armageddon: 2419 AD. I think I heard of that before but I wouldn’t have remembered it if you hadn’t mentioned it. I did some quick internet research on it and apparently it and The Skylark of Space by E. E. Smith both debuted in August 1928 in Amazing Stories magazine. The Skylark of Space is said to have originated the space opera genre.

TO BE CONTINUED…

The world of Indie Publishing is one of the only mediums in which self-identified Christians and right-leaning thinkers still have a voice and an opportunity to express their ideas. It’s the last outpost in the entertainment industry for ideological mavericks. However, these mavericks are committed to nothing as fanatically as they are to noble defeat.

They prefer to surrender rather than contend for their faith or conserve anything of value from our way of life. Their version of Christianity, for instance, believes that gender roles (assuming they still admit there are only two genders) should be the opposite of what the Bible teaches and what biology indicates. Were one of these typical mavericks to attempt explaining the concept of sin, they would likely list “homophobia” at the top of God’s list of unforgivable crimes. They disagree with the devil only by degrees–not in principle. They are most angered by Christians who fight; who rebel against the god of this world; who call out evildoers and hypocrites the way Jesus did; who don’t conform to the Terms and Conditions of Churchianity (as dictated by the enemies of Christ).

The “Christians” and “conservatives” who have the most clout, the loudest voices, and the best-defended platforms, are the most likely to cuck; the most likely to shrink in the face of evil; and the most likely to condemn those who don’t make the same compromises.

With allies like this, who needs enemies? But we have them, in spades, and their advantages are considerable. It can be very lonely when you refuse to bend your knee to Baal.

I’ve learned all this the hard way, via experience.

Virtual Pulp remains small because I’ve been very selective in who I allow to sport our brand. I used to dream of having a huge stable of authors, and enjoying literary success (to the extent it’s possible in the 21st Century); but it may be likely that there’s never more than a small handful of authors who want anything to do with me and my narrow-minded, puritanical vision. I piss people off and step on toes pretty much everywhere I go–not because I “can’t play nice with others;” but because I want to be part of the solution instead of part of the problem.

But solutions are sexist. And homophobic. And Islamaphobic. And, of course, racist/Nazi/white nationalist/blah blah blah fear blah blah blah hate.

Paul Hair joined the small team of bloggers at Virtual Pulp a while back after I failed to scare him away with my puritanical hateful hot hate, and I saw evidence that he doesn’t want to be part of the problem. He has contributed some articles and fiction here at VP that has added quality to the site. I’ve just finished an interview with him that covers a range of topics of interest to Virtual Pulp readers, and here is Part One:

HANK: Let’s start at the beginning: childhood, formative years…what were the most important influences on you, looking back? What did you like to read? Why did you like to read?

PAUL: I was born and raised in a rural life. Like any kid, I didn’t realize the full extent of my childhood until I was an adult. So I didn’t realize how rural my life was until I grew up. As a child, I knew I was “country,” but I didn’t realize how much so. For instance, I thought going to the Big City was going to a small city that was 15 miles away. (And it was something we rarely did, so much so that it was at times viewed as a vacation.) The city (then and now) doesn’t even have any true skyscrapers. It’s small geographically and by population too. Less than 50,000 people to this day, I believe.

On top of this, my family didn’t have any next-door neighbors. The closest neighbors were a tenth of a mile or so away. No neighbors across the road (just thick woods) and no neighbors behind us (a gigantic farmer’s field). And then there was a buffer of field and woods on both sides of the family property.

HANK: So you’re a country boy, like me. I didn’t appreciate my rustic upbringing at the time, but now I sure do.

There are exceptions to everything, of course, but I’ve noticed a definite correlation between stacking multitudes of people on top of each other, and moral implosion. It could be argued that talented people tend to be drawn to huge population centers (for whatever reason). It could also be argued that an individual is much more likely to be handed over to a reprobate mind after living in a city for a lengthy time period. Lot in Sodom (for all his failures) would qualify as an exception to this rule, but his wife and daughters were poster children for it. Have you noticed this same correlation? If so, why do you suppose it works this way?

PAUL: I would add the Tower of Babel and even the prophesied Babylon in addition to Sodom. As far as if I’ve noticed the correlation between urban areas and moral implosion…I’ll leave it at I’ve certainly been thinking about it a lot lately. I won’t say what I’ve concluded because I want urban and rural readers alike to purchase and read my books.

But so as to not entirely weasel out of the question (even as I go in a slightly different direction), I’ll say this: urban versus rural is an interesting topic, and definitely one that is very important to our times. It’s becoming increasingly relevant to political and cultural life. The Journalist-Democratic Party (which is now transparently communist) has taken over every institution of America. It runs everything in the nation. And this is particularly true in urban areas. That saturation of power in urban areas has become a focus for the communists, who are now frothing at the mouth about abolishing the Electoral College so that their urban centers can determine every future presidential election—so that they can prevent we “hicks” from ever having any say in anything significant in the nation again.

We’ll never see this change in our lifetime either. Urban areas are, by their nature, places where there will always be more government involvement. It’s inevitable. A larger amount of people means a larger amount of conflicts. And who do people expect to solve conflicts? Government. And when it comes to larger government, who is better at convincing people to put them in charge of it? Who is better at manipulating it to favor them and their agenda—better at manipulating it to crush their enemies? The communists or the GOP / conservatives—their ostensible opponents? The communists, of course. So the communists’ center of power in urban areas is only going to grow. As that occurs, of course, their power in the cities and nationally will grow. Big government is never going to go away. It literally can’t because of the nature of America in the 21st century. As soon as big cities became a thing, the country changed for good. Communists control it now. And it’s pretty easy to see where things go from here.

So urban versus rural is an important topic for contemporary times, and anyone who is interested in how things are going should be paying attention to it and thinking about it.

Conflict between American urban and rural has been brewing for a long time too. In the 1970s, there was the Rural Purge on TV. The powers that be (whether TV execs, advertisers, a combination of both, or other parties) wanted to get away from appealing to “ignorant country folk” in favor of urban viewers. Perhaps the conflict goes back even further.

(By the way, this conflict between urban and rural provides an opportunity for authors to explore it. How can the urban versus rural conflict factor into themes and motifs? Settings? Into entire plots? I can think of a few good ways to use it.)

I’ll conclude my answer on this subject by going back to where I started on it. I won’t answer on if I believe there is a correlation between moral implosion and urban areas because I want readers from both types of places. But I also don’t want to answer because I don’t want people who live in urban areas to think that they’d be better off in rural areas. One of the big reasons I like rural areas is because there are fewer people there, and if I convince people who reside in urban areas to move to rural areas, those rural areas cease to exist and instead become urban areas. So for all those who live in an urban area, I support you living there. I’ve lived in urban areas and I understand your reasons for doing so. I hope you’re happy and live a fruitful life. (And I write that with all sincerity.)

HANK: I lived in urban areas for many years, which is how I came to formulate my theory. I’m also thankful I had that anchor from a childhood spent mostly outside the high-population moral cesspools.

PAUL: I’m extremely happy I had this childhood, by the way. It’s something I look back on fondly. And it influenced me; helped shape who I became.

My parents were the single most influential people in my life. That is, I had a father and mother. Who were married to each other. And who had never been married to anyone else. Strange times, they were. But I digress. They influenced me by being certain that I was taught about God and the Gospel for my entire childhood. Again, I thought it was very normal during my childhood and even into my early adulthood. Now I know that’s not true. We went to Sunday school and church on Sundays (often listening to sermons by James Montgomery Boice during the car trip), had Sunday evening “house church,” went to Wednesday night services, prayed before meals and incorporated prayer into our lives, regularly read the Bible, read devotionals, and so forth. My father also worked at a Christian business. We weren’t allowed to swear, weren’t allowed to listen to secular music (until we were about 15 or 16), and weren’t allowed to watch crude or disrespectful TV shows. (They didn’t even allow us to watch much of “The Dukes of Hazzard” because of how it portrayed police—not cops—in a disrespectful manner.)

HANK: So this brings up something else I give a lot of thought. It sounds like you were sheltered—very sheltered, by non-Amish standards. (In fact, your parents might have been charged with child abuse in some jurisdictions for the care they took in raising you.) They eased up a bit in your teen years, but I’m guessing the culture shock was heavy when you did venture out on your own eventually. Was that youthful sheltering an advantage, or disadvantage, ultimately? In retrospect, would you prefer they had let you see reality in all its ugly horror at an earlier age, while using it as a perpetual teaching opportunity about right and wrong? Assuming you have kids of your own some day (if you don’t already), would you follow your parents’ model?

PAUL: I don’t necessarily believe I was sheltered. For one, going to church meant I knew about suffering and evil. It’s in the Bible. But the Great Commission also means that Christians go out into the world. And that’s often realized as missionaries. So I heard plenty of accounts of suffering and evil across the world by way of hearing the stories (firsthand or otherwise) of missionaries. There were also the stories of Christian converts with whom I ran across by way of attending church. My parents also had done mission work (youth work) on Long Island in the 1960s and early 1970s. I heard some of their stories. So I knew evil existed by way of being a Christian; I wasn’t shocked in that sense. There was only one major shock about the world that was sort of connected to my Christianity. More on that in a bit. First, though, here is another reason I don’t believe I was sheltered: I attended public school.

TO BE CONTINUED…