Marvin Olasky

A raucous red glare, bombast bursting in air ...

 That's the face and sound of media conservatism these days, as celebrated on best-seller lists, top-rated talk shows and books like Brian Anderson's "South Park Conservatives" (Regnery, 2005). His title comes from the cable cartoon program known for its helpful ripping of political correctness, but also its harmful endorsement of rage and sarcasm.

 These days, being a "South Park" conservative is in, and the working definition seems to be: Hit hard, and don't worry about hitting below the belt, because there is no belt. If you counter the left's sputum with your own, talk show appearances and book contracts will follow.

 What big-shots endorse, little shots snort. Anderson quotes one undergraduate talking about himself and cohort members who "get drunk on weekends, have sex before marriage ... cuss like sailors -- and also happen to be conservative."

 Conservative, maybe -- but if "South Park" is our future, there won't be much to conserve. Must we accept the bipolar belief that either we're (Michael) savages or we're wimps? Is it possible for us to regain what New Jersey pastor Matt Ristuccia calls "earnest grace, the re-association of sensibilities that we moderns have judged to be beyond association: specifically, passionate conviction and profound compassion"?

 Ristuccia wisely suggests that if we understand how Christ combined justice and judgment with forgiveness and hope, our earnestness can be seasoned with grace. But show business pulls us in the opposite direction: Fighting words sell. Ann Coulter, for example, says people don't respond to subtle reasoning and need to be bopped on the head.

 She's probably right: Rapid-fire attacks keep people awake. But the columnist has another side that a former student of mine, Amy McCullough, caught in describing a Coulter appearance at the University of Texas: "When a young, conservative woman asked how she could stand the awful things people said about her because of her stand on abortion, she hesitated, messed with her hair, and said: 'Well, it's the same way I don't care about anything else: Christ died for my sins, and nothing else matters.'"

Marvin Olasky

Marvin Olasky is editor-in-chief of the national news magazine World. For additional commentary by Marvin Olasky, visit
Be the first to read Marvin Olasky's column. Sign up today and receive delivered each morning to your inbox.