The Last Wound
July 6, 2026 Leave a comment
Nighthawk Diner was almost empty by the time I walked in. My thoughts were rambling and looking for a place to land.
“Coffee, Roy?”
“Yeah, fill ‘er up. And a slice of your apple pie.” I shoved an empty cup across the counter toward Max.
The sound of gun shots came from the alley behind the diner. Then several more. I got up from the counter.
Max poured the coffee. “Roy, it’s almost The Fourth of July.” I sat down.
A couple at the end of the counter were setting off their own fireworks. She made it clear that she had changed her mind about him.
I sat with my coffee half-listening and half-mulling. Did she learn something that made her realize that she would never change him?
Whatever the reason, the woman got up, huffed out, and hailed a cab. The guy looked over at me and threw up his hands. I half-nodded half-smiled and returned to my coffee. It was late. I was tired and way past understanding anything.
There was another loud crack in the alley. I let it go. Max brought the pie.
“Say Roy, did you ever catch whoever vandalized the jewelry store a few doors down?”
“The smash and grab? Yeah, a couple of guys stole some expensive watches and fenced them to buy drugs. They’re locked up now.”
Max wiped his hands with the towel that hung from his waist. “They vandalize others so they can vandalize themselves. Makes no sense.”
“It makes the same sense as losing a finger or an eye playing with fireworks.”
As I was saying this, a fire engine with sirens blaring and lights flashing drove past the window. An ambulance and a squad car followed.
“I guess I better have a look.” I paid for the coffee and the apple pie, grabbed my hat and headed for the door.
“Say hi to Laci for me, Roy.”
“Will do, Max.”
Outside, I expected the sulfurous, rotten egg-like odor given off by fireworks. But the heavy acrid smell of a fire filled the air. I could see fire trucks at Center City College campus. That’s where I headed chewing on some Black Jack gum my best girl had put in my coat pocket.
~~~
I cleared the police barricade tape with my ID and walked toward the Larks Faculty Admin Building. A fireman stood in a fifth-floor window. He radioed below to the fire chief I walked up to. The fire was out, he said, and there was a body on the floor.
“Roy, the elevator is shut off. You’ll need to walk up.”
That was the corpulent sergeant Fullman. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. He wasn’t about to walk up the five flights of stairs. So, I had to.
The climb to the fifth floor wasn’t easy. The handkerchief covering my nose and mouth didn’t keep out the sharp-tasting smoke and I was already tired from being up the past 30 hours. My heart was thumping like a freight train passing through a small town at night.
The sign on the fifth-floor office read:
Arthur J. Talbot
Professor
School of Humanities, Arts and Cultural Studies
Inside, a fireman stood poking through a large pile of charred books. He was making sure that there were no more embers.
The shelves had been emptied. Books had been thrown into a pile next to the desk and set on fire. Everything had been doused with water. There was no vanilla-like smell of old books. There was a damp burnt wood smell.
A man’s body lay face down on the floor. I put on some nitrile gloves, knelt down, and lifted his shoulder to look at his face. A 50th anniversary photo on the desk confirmed the dead man to be Professor Talbot.
He didn’t appear to have any wounds, but the large book he was holding – Virgil’s Aeneid in the original Latin – had large gashes in the cover. Was he holding the book to protect himself?
Before I got up, I noticed something under the desk. I stuck my arm under and pulled out a wooden replica of a tall ship. The engraved brass label read USS Constitution, “Old Ironsides” 1797. A third of the ship had burnt away. I handed it to the fireman.
I searched the pockets of his tweed jacket, his waistcoat, and his pants. His wallet, his wedding band and his watch had not been taken. It wasn’t robbery. It was someone with a grudge making a deadly point.
The fireman pointed to the waste basket. “The fire started there.”
“How did it spread to the books.”
“Accelerant was used in the bin and on the books. Someone lit some paper, threw it in the bin and then dumped the blaze on the books.”
I stood back trying to imagine the scene and then went to the open window. I stuck my head out and yelled down to sergeant Fullman “Send up forensics.” The outside air didn’t clear my head. There was a pungent taste in my mouth. I tossed my gum out the window.
Ten minutes later, two white-coveralled techs with masks make it to the fifth floor. One of them starts taking pictures. The other examines the professor’s skull.
“I see no injuries. He might have been overcome trying to put out the fire and died of smoke inhalation.”
I left the techs to their work. I had to go back outside. My stomach didn’t know what to do with the taste in my mouth.
“Roy, what did you find out?” Sargent Fullman asked from his bench perch. I told him that it looked like a homicide. “Crime never sleeps, Roy. Not even on a holiday.”
“You better go home, Sarge. Mrs. Sarge will be worried about you in this heat.”
I stood there blowing my nose and looking around at the crowd that had gathered behind the police tape. Some of the onlookers were holding protest signs. One very anxious woman stood out. It was the woman in the photo.
I pulled her out from the line and brought her to a quiet spot.
“Ma’am, I’m Detective Winder. Are you Mrs. Talbot?”
“Yes, detective. I’m Alice Talbot. Is my husband OK?”
“I’m afraid, Mrs. Talbot, that your husband has passed. I’m looking into what happened.”
This news had her crumble into my arms and then she pulled back. The smell of smoke on my clothes had her wondering horrible things. I told her that her husband’s books had been burnt but that he was untouched by the fire.
She looked over at the protestors. I figured they were adding more pain to an already painful night for Mrs. Talbot.
“Mrs. Talbot, do you have someone you can stay with tonight?”
“My daughter.”
“I would like to talk to you again, tomorrow. Is that OK?”
“Yes, detective.”
“Just one question tonight. Why was your husband here on campus so late at night before a holiday?”
“He was to give the Fourth of July speech . . . at the bandshell in Larks Park . . . before the fireworks. He told me that he wanted to make sure it was his best. He said it would likely be his last.”
“Why did he think it would be his last speech?”
“Some students filed complaints against him. They thought his teaching was biased or not biased enough. I don’t know.” She looked over again at the protestors.
I had an officer wait with Mrs. Talbot until her daughter arrived.
I went home, put my clothes in a dry cleaner’s bag, put my gum on the dresser, took a shower, and then slipped into bed next to my best girl.
~~~
I woke up two hours later when I heard the TV. Laci had the news on.
“Fifty-nine-year-old Professor Arthur J. Talbot, a professor at Center City College, was found dead in his office. There are reports that his books had been destroyed in the fire.
“One colleague described Professor Talbot as the pillar of the School of Humanities, Arts and Cultural Studies. Professor Talbot authored several books about philosophy, ethics, and religious studies.
“He is most well-known for his books Minds Made Up: Ideology as Identity and Zero-Sum Culture and The Leveling of Society.
“He is survived by his wife Alice, two children and seven grandchildren.”
I turned the TV off when Laci reminded me that it was the Fourth. I had hoped to spend it with her on the patio with some ice-cold lemonade and a couple of steaks on the grill. But murder has a way of deciding for others.
I called Mrs. Talbot and her daughter answered. I told her that I needed to spend a few minutes with Mrs. Talbot.
“Come right over. The family will be here soon. It’s 208 Larks Avenue, a brownstone across from Larks Park.”
It was the start of one of those searing and sultry days of summer. The package of Black Jack gum in my coat pocket was getting soft, too soft. I wanted to shed my suit coat, loosen my tie, and open my collar. But I had to look like business. I hoped the Talbot place had AC.
When I arrived, Mrs. Talbot’s daughter opened the door.
I addressed mother and daughter. “I am sorry for your loss. I am curious. Is there anyone who would want to hurt your husband, your father?”
Mrs. Talbot wiped her eyes. “I can’t think of anyone directly. But there are students who don’t like what he taught, don’t like what he wrote. The department chair received student complaints about his teaching style, his course content, and his courses on ethics and religion. He was penalized in his annual performance review for a bias toward Christianity.”
Mrs. Talbot wiped her eyes again. “I saw the protestors last night again. I saw them at his last talk on campus. I see them outside our house with signs.”
“Has a protestor ever harmed you or your husband.”
“Not directly. But we don’t feel safe in our home or leaving our home. Now they’ve had their way with him.” She couldn’t continue and laid her head on her daughter’s shoulder.
I asked the daughter if she knew of anyone specifically who had filed a complaint.
“I think my father said her name is Madison with a ‘y’ . . . Madisyn Sawyer. She lives directly across from us on the other side of the park.” She walked over to the window. “Right there.” She pointed to a four-story apartment building.
Before I left, I told them that there would be an autopsy to determine the cause of death. I would let them know what I find out.
“Detective,” Mrs. Talbot lifted her head, “Arthur was to give the Fourth of July speech today over at the bandshell across the street. He showed me the third draft of the speech. He went to the college last night to finish it – something about wanting to make sure of a Latin phrase from Virgil’s Aeneid.”
“Do you know what phrase he was thinking about?”
“Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito. It translates as ‘do not give in to evil but proceed ever more boldly against it.’”
“Ma’am, I wish I could have heard him deliver that speech.”
As I opened the door, a couple was just about to enter.
“Who are you?” asked the man.
“I’m Detective Winder. And you?”
“I’m her son Matthew and this is my wife, Mandy. Any information on my father’s death?”
I told him that I was there to find out who might want to harm his father. I asked him and he said that he knew of no one. I told them there will be an autopsy to determine the cause of death and that I would be in touch when I had more.
Walking down the sidewalk, I noticed someone standing with his bike across the street. He was watching the Talbot house. I decided to walk across the park to question Madison with a ‘y’. When he saw me coming in his direction, he got on his bike a rode away.
~~~
I make my way over and up to Madisyn Sawyer’s fourth-floor studio apartment. I knock. A short round woman with fuchsia-streaked pixie hair and an assortment of piercings and tattoos answered. I identify myself.
“The police! Are you here to arrest me?”
“Do I need to?”
“Isn’t that what police do, detective? Arrest people and find them guilty?”
“I’ll let you know. Ms. Sawyer. I’m looking into the events of last night and the death of Professor Talbot.”
“Come in.”
“Ms. Sawyer, I understand that you filed a complaint against professor Talbot. Is that correct?”
“Yes, detective. I had issues with his Introduction to Ethics and Issues in Death and Dying class. He had us reading Thomas Aquinas and asking us about the “highest good.”
“Is that a problem?”
“There are other perspectives, detective.”
“Were you aware that Professor Talbot was at his office last night?”
“Yeah. I was down on the third floor working on my Master’s thesis. I wanted to finish some research before the holiday. Professor Talbot came down to talk about my research for my dissertation. Then he went back up to the fifth floor, I think.”
“What time was that?”
“Around eight eight-thirty, I think. Before I went home, I went up to ask him about some research I came across. But he wasn’t there.”
“Was anyone else around the fifth floor then?”
No. But there was someone coming up the stairs as I was going down. “
“Describe him.”
“He looked like a high-schooler. He had black hair. He was skinny. Wore jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt and sneakers.”
“Anything else?”
“He was carrying a bicycle tire pump.”
I look around the studio apartment. Two bikes and two backpacks leaned against the wall. Outside the small open kitchen area there was a table with two chairs. On the table was a lit oil candle. On the wall was a TV the size of a billboard. The room filled out with a well-used arm hair holding a cat that couldn’t be bothered and a futon with protest signs leaning against it. Books were scattered around in piles. I scan some of the titles.
“These titles . . .? You don’t agree with what Professor Talbot teaches?”
“Is that a crime?”
“Only if it’s not by the book.”
I notice a photo on the refrigerator door.
“Who is this?” I was looking at a photo of a smiling Ms. Sawyer and a severe-looking dark-haired guy.
“That’s Hadrien Marie. We share the apartment.”
“Does he attend the college?”
“Oh no. He owns a vape shop on third street. He’s there now.”
I give her my card and ask her to call me if she hears anything about last night.
I came away with the impression that Ms. Sawyer’s prerogative was not used to change her mind, as they used to say of women. It was her prerogative to impose change on other people’s minds. She came across as a protest.
~~~
I grab another stick of Black Jack gum from my pocket and walk over to the college to ask about CCTV of last night.
The building superintendent tells me that there are cameras on the exterior of the building, the first-floor entrance, and hallway cameras. I ask to see the exterior footage from last night starting at nine-o’clock.
Just after nine, I see the man that Ms. Sawyer described entering the building.
I ask for the footage of the first-floor camera starting at nine. I see the black-hooded young man with jeans and the bicycle pump entering the building and heading up the stairs. I ask for the footage of the third-floor camera. It shows the hooded man heading up the stairs and Ms. Sawyer going down the stairs.
The fifth-floor footage shows the hooded man reaching the top of the stairs. He enters the professor’s office. He’s in there for three minutes and leaves.
The first-floor video shows him leaving the building minutes later. The exterior video shows him getting on his bike and riding off.
I need to find this young man. I capture a screen shot of him on the first floor. The image of him was a bit blurry but there was enough to show people. There was enough to show me that this guy looked a lot like the same guy watching the Talbot house. I walk back to the Talbot house.
~~~
Matthew opens the door. “Anything yet, detective?”
“I want to show your mother a picture.”
Mrs. Talbot is seating on the couch surrounded by her grandchildren. I have her look at the screen image.
“No. I don’t know him.” She handed the picture to her son.
“Has anyone noticed a young guy standing across the street watching your house?”
“What?” Matthew went over to the street window and looked out. “He’s there right now, detective.”
“Do you recognize him?”
“I . . . well . . . that might be the kid that used to vandalize our house when we were at church. That was years ago. Matthew looked at the photo again. “Yeah, that could be him.”
Mrs. Talbot came to the window. “There was a boy in our neighborhood who seemed to hate us. We’d come home from church and find the top of our tulips cut off. We’d find our garbage cans knocked over. We’d find dead animals in out mail box. We’d find our car tires flat. He’d ride by on his bike yelling all kinds of nasty things. In my day we called kids like that juvenile delinquents.”
“Mom, they’re called young offenders today, as if a change of designation was social progress. And, that kid was Brandon . . . Brandon Brix. I had a few run ins with him.”
I go out the door to speak with the young man. But he gets on his bike and rides off.
I leave the Talbots and walk to the station. I need to find out more about Brandon Brix.
Brandon, according to the police blotter, had committed a couple of misdemeanors at the age of twelve. He had been charged with defacing school property with spray paint and with petty theft of tools taken from several garages. He was sentenced to six months in juvenile detention and then placed on parole for a year. Brandon is now eighteen. He lives on Shore Oaks drive with his mother. That’s where I headed next.
I drive up to the Brix house and see a bicycle laying on the grass. I knock. A fiftyish woman with heavy bags under eyes answers.
“Mrs. Brix?”
“Yes. Who are you?”
“I’m detective Winder. I need to speak to Brandon.”
“Oh no. Don’t tell me he’s back to his old ways.”
“That’s what I’m here to find out, ma’am.”
“Brandon! Come down here!”
The young man I had seen across the street and in the screen-capture came down the stairs. He looked scared.
“Brandon, I’m detective Winder. I am investigating what happened to Professor Talbot last night. Cameras have you at the college last night. Cameras have you going into Professor’s Talbot’s office. Can you explain?”
“Oh, Brandon, you didn’t, did you?”
“No ma. I was there to apologize to Professor Talbot. I finally worked up the courage to face him. I watched him go to the college last night. I waited till there wasn’t anyone around. I just wanted to talk to him. I had messed with him and his family when I was a kid.”
“Detective, I divorced my no-good husband when Brandon was ten. He had a lot of anger over that. That’s what’s at the root of his troubles.”
“So, Brandon, you were there to apologize to the Professor?
“Yes sir. But the Professor wasn’t in his office. I didn’t want to walk around to find him. I didn’t belong there in the first place. So, I wrote him a note and left it on his desk. I wanted to take responsibility for the way I acted toward him and his family.”
“Ma’am, sounds like Brandon figured out what was at the root of his troubles. It was his bad behavior.”
“Brandon, that is a noble of you,” his mother hugged him.
“You saw no fire?”
“No sir. I heard about what happened to Professor Talbot on TV. I went over to their house hoping for a time to speak with Mrs. Talbot alone. But people were coming and going.”
“Why were your carrying a bicycle pump, Brandon?”
“I didn’t want it stolen. I used to steal things when I was a kid so I knew what could happen.”
I asked Brandon to come to the station to make a statement. I needed to establish a timeline, talk to the medical examiner, talk to forensics, and review the videos from the administration building. If Brandon didn’t start the fire, then who did?
~~~
I met with the medical examiner and the deceased.
“Roy, toxic fumes, not flames, were the primary cause of death. There are no major burn injuries or grievous external wounds, no blunt force trauma found that could be attributed as the direct cause of death. “
“Note the swelling around the faces and eyes. And there is soot and smoke particles inside his nasal passages. He inhaled large quantities of smoke which may have caused a fatal heart attack. I’ll know more later.
“You know Roy, he could have left the room to breathe in clean air. But he must have stayed inside trying to put out the fire destroying his books. He also could have used the fire extinguisher in the hall, but maybe he didn’t want that powder on his books. Maybe he thought he could put out the fire.”
Mike in forensics had more to report.
“Roy, the fire started in the garbage bin next to the desk. It was started with an accelerant – liquid paraffin. Liquid paraffin is used in lamps and candles. The building administrator said that no candles or lamps or anything flammable is allowed in the building. And no smoking and vaping is allowed within a hundred feet of entrances and exits. Someone brought in the liquid paraffin and lit it up.”
I asked Mike for pictures of the scene. I was hoping to find Brandon’s note to Professor Talbot.
“Roy, whatever paper was on the desk must have been pushed into the garbage bin. Here are pics of the charred scraps that had floated up from the fire and landed in the room.”
All but one document had been typewritten. The one handwritten scrap had “Mr. Talbot.” The rest of the note had burned off.
The videos were next. I start with the fifth-floor video at eight last night.
I see Professor Talbot walking down the stairs with a paper in his hands. I follow him to the third floor. He stops to talk to Ms. Sawyer. He hands her a paper. She looks it over and looks rather unhappy.
The Professor goes back to the fifth floor but he doesn’t go to his office. He goes to an office several doors down. He stays there for an hour. I call the college and ask about the office. I learn that it is Professor Cline’s office. He’s a close friend of Professor Talbot.
I call Professor Cline and ask about that meeting. He says that Professor Talbot wanted to go over his speech with him. He confirmed the time.
I watch the fifth-floor video and see Brandon go into Talbot’s office for three minutes and then leave. Professor Talbot was still down the hall.
Minutes later, Ms. Sawyer reaches the fifth floor and looks into Professor Talbot’s office. Then she walks halfway down the hall and then walks back to his office and goes in. She’s in the office for six minutes and then heads down the stairs.
Fifteen minutes later, Professor Talbot leaves Professor Cline’s office. Professor Clines heads down the stairs with his briefcase. Professor Talbot goes to the men’s room. He leaves the men’s room after a few minutes and returns to his office. He does not come out. He is not seen again. I see smoke. The automated sprinkler system must have gone off.
Ms. Sawyer was the last to enter the office. Or, was she? Old buildings like the Larks building have fire escapes. Was the office window opened by the fire department or had it been opened by someone using the fire escape to vandalize the office and start the fire?
Before I go to review the building’s exterior camera video, I call the fire department. The chief asks around and says that every fireman up on the fifth floor thought that the victim had opened the window.
I watch the video from building’s main entrance exterior camera. I see Brandon unchaining his bike and then riding off. Ten minutes later I see Ms. Sawyer with her backpack doing the same. The fire started after she left the Professor’s office. Was she in on it?
I rewind the exterior night footage video and then advance it slowly.
A figure appears on the far left. It looks like a black-hooded man with a backpack. He’s about the same height as Brandon but Brandon didn’t have a backpack when he left the building. The figure comes near the building. I switch to the building’s corner camera video to view the fire escape. Only the outside railing of the fire escape is visible in the video, but I can see movement on the fire escape each time the figure passes a lit window.
I check the main entrance video and the internal videos again. I don’t see the black-hooded man. He must have gone up the fire escape.
I watch and watch. I can’t see the fifth-floor window but smoke begins pouring out at that level. Minutes later I see the hooded figure walk away from the fire escape. The figure tosses something into a garbage can by the sidewalk. He gets on a bike and rides away.
I send Mike of forensics to check out the trash can on the campus. He calls after twenty minutes and tells me that he found a fire starter and a bottle of liquid paraffin. I tell him to grab the finger prints from both and to finger print the fire escape near the fifth-floor and the window. Our suspect has left his mark.
The campus has plenty of people walking around with backpacks. There were two at Ms. Sawyers place. And there was an oil candle.
An hour later I get the results. The finger prints match Hadrian Marie, the owner of a vape shop on third street. He had previously been arrested for criminal damage to property – fire damage to a church. He was more severe than he looked.
I get a probable cause warrant from the DA to search the studio apartment. I take Mike and two officers with me. The fireworks over at Larks Park were about to begin.
~~~
Back at the station, I put Ms. Sawyer in one interview room and Mr. Marie in another.
Mike calls me and says he’s pretty sure that one of the backpacks has liquid paraffin spilled on the bottom. And he found a black-hooded sweatshirt that smells like smoke in the hamper. He’s on his way back to the station with the items to analyze them.
I interview Ms. Sawyer first. I want to know if she was involved.
“Why am I here, detective? Why is Hadrian here?”
“Ms. Sawyer, video from last night has Professor Talbot handing you some papers and you looking very unhappy. What was that about?”
“I asked Professor Talbot to review my Master’s thesis. He said that before I narrowed my focus and framed my argument, I needed to broaden my perspective. He said I needed a more thorough review of existing literature to identify gaps in my thesis. He said that I needed to consider not only what I agreed with but also what I disagreed with. He handed me some resources to critically review.”
“Did this upset you?”
“Well, yeah. I was frustrated. I mean, I’d already spent a lot of time on the thesis and thought I had nailed it.”
“Ms. Sawyer, after you left the admin building last night, did you go straight home?”
“Yes.”
“Was Hadrian home when you arrived?”
“No. He came home later. He had to close the Vape shop. Why?
“Sit tight.” I leave the room and go talk to Mike.
“Roy, on the bottom of both backpacks there are drops of liquid paraffin. It’s the same liquid paraffin used in the candle. The fire investigator says It’s the same liquid paraffin that was used as an accelerant.”
“Thanks Mike.”
I head to Interview Room 2 to question the wild-eyed Mr. Marie.
I enter and find him standing in the corner with his arms crossed and a mean mug.
“Why are we here? And shouldn’t you be out watching your glorious American fireworks?”
“Mr. Marie, I am detective Winder. Have a seat.”
“Now, Mr. Marie, where were you last night between 9 PM and 10:30?”
“At my shop. Till ten. Then I went home.”
“Mr. Marie, we searched your apartment and found things that tie you to the fire and the death of Professor Talbot.’
“What?! How can that be. I was at my shop. I was at home.”
“We found traces of liquid paraffin in your backpack. It’s the same liquid paraffin that is used for the candle in your apartment. It’s the same liquid paraffin that accelerated the fire in the professor’s office.”
Mike walks in and hands me the finger print results.
“It appears, Mr. Marie, that you’ve left a trail of finger prints on the fifth-floor fire escape and on the office window and on the office trash can and on the fire starter and bottle of liquid paraffin found in the trash can adjacent to the admin building. It appears that you’ve crossed a bridge and burned it behind you.”
“What are you taking about?”
“I saw the plaque on the wall of your apartment.” I look at my notes. “It says . . .
“You are America. Unconstrained by habit and convention. Unencumbered by what is, ready to seize what ought to be. For everywhere in this country, there are first steps to be taken, there is new ground to cover, there are more bridges to be crossed. Obama, right?”
“Madisyn called me, Mr. Dick, and told me what the old guy said about her paper. She tells me everything that guy says. She told me that students complained about his teaching style and course content. They complained about his courses on ethics and religion, his Christian bias. He never includes teaching about decolonizing and anti-racism. He never includes the things that really matter!
“The “greater good!” Hah! He knows nothing about the “greater good” when there is so much injustice and so much inequality in the world!
“So yeah, I came in the window. Yeah, I threw the books on the floor. Yeah, I lit the fire. It was a statement. A statement against his old tired way of thinking. He’s stuck in the past. He needed a wakeup call.”
“Mr. Marie, did you strike Mr. Talbot?
“He came at me as I was going out the window. I only had the fire starter to protect myself. So, I swung it at him.”
Mr. Marie, did you strike Mr. Talbot?
“I struck the book he put up to his face. He was alive when I went out the window.”
“Professor Talbot perished from the fire. And now Mrs. Talbot, her children, her grandchildren and his many students must suffer the injustice and inequality of your act.”
At this point, I read Mr. Marie his rights.
“Detective, Madisyn has nothing to do with this. I waited by the window until Madisyn left the building. I didn’t want her involved.”
“We’ll see about that. Hadrian Marie, you willfully started a fire to intimidate Mr. Talbot. You are being charged with arson and the involuntary manslaughter of Mr. Talbot. Your unconstrained habits and convention will be remanded into custody. You will be encumbered by it is.”
“I want a lawyer.”
I returned to Interview Room 1 and Ms. Sawyer.
“Ms. Sawyer, video from last night has you going up to the fifth-floor, looking into Professor Talbot’s office, then walking halfway down the hall, and then walking back to his office. You are in there for six minutes.”
I show her the video.
“It looks to me that you checked Professor Talbot’s office to see if he was in there. He wasn’t. Then you hear his voice. You walk down the hallway and hear him talking with Professor Cline. Then, you go back to Professor Talbot’s office. What were you doing in there?”
“I was . . .I was writing a note about the research I found.”
“Did you see another handwritten note on the desk?
“Yeah. I looked like something a kid wrote to Professor Talbot.”
“Ms. Sawyer, we found your finger prints on the books piled on the floor. We also found your finger prints on the window you opened for Hadrian. And, we also found drops of liquid paraffin in your backpack – both backpacks found at your apartment.”
“It was supposed to be a statement, detective.”
“You mean you were showing him a different perspective when you tossed his books into a pile on the floor, opened the window for Hadrian, handed him the liquid paraffin and then left. You will be charged with murder, even if his death was not intended.”
“The last wound the professor suffered, Ms. Sawyer, was fatal. He was trying to put out the fire consuming his books. His fifty-nine-year-old heart gave out. He died of smoke inhalation and heart failure.”
At this point, I read Ms. Sawyer her rights.
~~~
Back at my desk, I make a note to call Mrs. Talbot in the morning. I’ll tell her about Mr. Marie and Ms. Madison with a ‘y’, and about Brandon Brix. I put it in my pocket with the pack of Black Jack gum.
I call my best girl.
“Roy, the fireworks are over.”
“Laci, I wrapped the case. I’ve been crisscrossing the campus all day long. My dogs are killing me and I’m beat. Listen, darling, tomorrow I’ll make sure there are lots of fireworks and then we’ll grill some steaks and watch The Thin Man.
“You never change, Roy.”
“That’s why you love me. See you soon.”
~~
©J.A. Johnson, Kingdom Venturers, 2026, All Rights Reserved
Cindy Wity 
No Country for Old Men Without Borders
June 1, 2026 Leave a comment
No Country for Old Men refers to a world that has become increasingly violent and chaotic, where traditional values and the moral compass of older generations are no longer effective or relevant. The title reflects the struggles of the aging sheriff, Ed Tom Bell, as he confronts the senseless violence and lawlessness that he feels ill-equipped to handle . . .
In the past six months I’ve come across two pastoral letters imploring Christians to think kindly toward the millions of foreign invaders that crossed our borders illegally.
The first (AI generated?) letter was posted “By A Country Pastor.” (Quaint, eh?) The second, from a Hispanic Anglican bishop out of California. (Surprise, surprise!). The document below is the latest missive. Like with my response to the first letter, I do not consider the current pastoral letter authoritative.
It’s not that an Anglican bishop doesn’t have authority to speak about such things. It’s just that there is nothing in the letter that compels me to change my understanding or my actions. I seek to love my neighbor as myself, I ascribe image-of-God dignity to all humans, and I hold myself and others accountable for what is done.
~~~
Here’s the letter’s opening and my comments:
“As bishop of the Diocese of San Joaquin within the Anglican Church in North America, I write pastorally to address the subject of refugees and immigration. I recognize that immigration is a complex matter involving legal, social, and economic concerns. Yet for the Church, it is first and foremost a biblical and pastoral issue, shaped by our allegiance to Christ and our calling to make disciples of all nations (Philippians 3:20; Matthew 28:19–20).”
What brought about the need “to address the subject of refugees and immigration?”
Did narrative-edited videos on CNN and MS NOW showing ICE rounding up the bishop’s would-be disciples provoke clerical stole clutching? Was it something preachy Morning Joe Scarbourough said?
Was it some attribution of unchristian behavior onto the millions of legal citizens never wanting their neighborhoods and their country overrun with and terrorized by the worst of worst criminal aliens, international criminal gangs, drugs, and scammers?
Was it Progressivism’s predatory foray into the church? (See video below.)
“After years of global elites lecturing us about compassion, diversity, open borders, asylum, labor flows, and all the buzzwords they love to force-feed us, The Economist is suddenly admitting that voters are right to think the system has been gamed to screw us over.”
The Economist suddenly changes its immigration tune…
Is it because “The globalist machine is sputtering and losing speed. And they can hear the America First engine coming up fast right behind them”?
Was it concern that Federal grant money to NGOs was drying up?
Was it Trump derangement syndrome?
Is it because Democrats need to keep their animus toward America, its Constitution and laws, always before us, so deportation resistance has to be revved up again?
What brought about the need “to address the subject of refugees and immigration?”
After giving lip service to the complex matters immigration invokes “involving legal, social, and economic concerns” – matters established by our country’s founders for the common good that include the principle of subsidiarity, protections both physical and civil, fiscal soundness, and a legitimate process for the integration and assimilation of legal immigrants leading to citizenship – the bishop, without saying any more about the very real down-to-earth “legal, social, and economic concerns” of not dealing with the complex matters that (illegal) immigration brings down upon our families, our neighbors, our communities and our nation, goes on to place the matter of (illegal) immigration into his safe space – his otherworld jurisdiction.
The bishop, you see, has a “first and foremost” trump card: entitlement of citizenship for (illegal) immigrants – citizenship in heaven – that overrides legal citizenship status and subjugates the concerns of legal citizens to a ‘scriptural’ utility of making disciples.
I wonder. Does the bishop assume that illegal immigrants will want to assimilate and willingly accept being discipled because of compassion extended toward them? Do Islamists assimilate and become disciples of Jesus? Do gang members assimilate and become disciples of Jesus? Will the Chinese from the CCP? Will the Somalians? If a comfortable living situation is the basis for entering illegally, the immigrant will be discipled by Democrats willing to give them all kinds comfortable living on welfare in exchange for their vote.
How convenient that the San Joaquin valley is inundated with Hispanic illegal immigrants! Now they can easily be colonized as citizens of heaven and as low-cost farm workers!
You tell me. Have you read anywhere in the gospels that before Jesus ascended into heaven, he said “Go. Open your borders. Let everyone in, even your enemies. This will facilitate making disciples.”?
The two letters are the same in their “pastoral” plea to be welcoming and hospitable to the invaders, the opportunists violating the law for access to another’s property and wealth. (See The Dark Side of the Immigration Debate and The Ungrateful Immigrant below.)
The letter goes on . . .
“Holy Scripture teaches that every human being is created in the image of God (Genesis 1:26). Therefore, all people—regardless of legal status, nationality, or ethnicity—possess inherent dignity. The Bible repeatedly calls God’s people to welcome the stranger, care for the vulnerable, and extend hospitality to those in need (Leviticus 19:33–34; Matthew 25:35; Hebrews 13:2). Our Lord Himself knew the life of a refugee when the Holy Family fled to Egypt (Matthew 2:13–23).”
Here, the bishop pulls out all the “social justice” stops. His words are coded in Biblical jargon to supply the naïve reader justification for open borders. We are to trade the real-world deleterious effects of illegal immigration for a high-minded other-world compassion that unleashes chaos with the senseless violence and lawlessness that we are ill-equipped to handle.
My understanding of image-of-God “inherent dignity” involves personal accountability and responsibility for one’s human agency. It’s not a badge we put on someone to give them a ‘social justice’ pass.
Tell me. When Jesus said “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy” (John 10:10) did he point out the inherent dignity of the thief so that we would take a compassionate view of him and his ways? Did he do this with the Pharisees or the woman caught in adultery? No. Jesus spoke of what they did against their image-of-God “inherent dignity.”
The application of “dignity,” like with applying “love,” can be used to Ok of all kinds of inordinate things, such as same-sex marriages: [IN Senator Todd} Young Op-Ed: Marriage Bill Ensures Dignity and Respect for All Hoosiers. S.J. James Martin uses “inherent dignity” to justify all kinds of unholy things
Both pastoral letters imply that foreign invaders should be treated as possessing human dignity. But do the illegal immigrants respect the inherent dignity of the ICE officers and their lawful task?
ICE has its hands full with those who resist – you know, the “strangers” who crossed the border illegally and are now putting up a fight with law enforcement. And with those “strangers” financed and deployed by Democrat NGOs to put up violent resistance. Where’s the dignity in that?
Why doesn’t the bishop publicly denounce and admonish the ICE protestors and the chaos they bring? His higher law says to speak the truth in love. Maybe he agrees with the NYT’s op-ed columnist David Brooks who says “It’s time for a comprehensive national civic uprising.”
“I’ll kill your whole f-cking family! Your whole f-cking family is dead!” the agitator yawped. “Your children, your wife—all dead!”
Acting AG Blanche: Anti-ICE Agitator Will Be Arrested for Threatening Agent During NJ Riot
At some point, ordinary, law-abiding people are going to get sick of the disorder protected and excused by their degenerate liberal governing elites. I will continue to ask the question “Where are the adults?”
Saying that Jesus was a refugee – is that said to invoke empathy for the refugee? How so? Mary, Joseph, and the baby traveled to Egypt under God’s protection and direction. They also remigrated home under God’s protection and direction. The Illegal immigrants can do the same.
The letter goes on . . .
“At the same time, Scripture affirms the legitimacy of nations and civil authority (Romans 13:1). A faithful Christian response must therefore hold together two truths: the responsibility of governments to uphold the rule of law and protect their borders, and the obligation to treat immigrants and refugees with justice, mercy, and compassion, in accordance with God’s law (Matthew 22:21).”
Let’s be clear. U.S. immigration laws are not unwelcoming or imposing hate. They are not anti-human anti-dignity. They, in fact, affirm human dignity by holding the people who placed themselves in the lawless positions accountable.
“Justice, mercy, and compassion” have been extended toward illegal immigrants and “refugees”:
USCIS Supports “Project Homecoming” Self-Deportation:
If you are here illegally and you want to go home, the Department of Homeland Security now offers use of the CBP Home Mobile App so that you can voluntarily self-deport. Through the CBP Home Mobile App, you receive a complimentary plane ticket home, receive a $2,600 exit bonus upon your return, and will have any unpaid fines for failing to timely depart forgiven.
But the opposite is portrayed by left-wing media. Such have a financial and political stake in promoting open borders. The opposite is also portrayed by church leadership that has accepted the media’s lies.
I agree. We are to treat all people with “justice, mercy, and compassion” in accordance with God’s will. That would include our neighbors who are having to deal with the invasion of millions of illegal aliens. There is nothing merciful, just or compassionate about an invasion of millions of foreigners into our communities.
The letter goes on . . .
“In my episcopal ordination vows, I pledged to be “gentle and merciful for Christ’s sake, to poor and needy people and to all strangers destitute of help” (BCP 2019, p. 504). Guided by that promise, I call the Church to bear faithful witness by loving our neighbors, advocating for the vulnerable, speaking the truth in love, and offering practical care to those entrusted to us (Luke 10:25–37; Matthew 5:13–16).
Who are the vulnerable? Children. Trafficked children. Exposed children.
“These children are vulnerable; they’re actually the ones who need the help,” Rivera said. “They’re brought against their will, and they have no say in where they’re going, whether it’s mom or dad, aunt or uncle, or some stranger getting something out of it.”
Border Crisis: CBP Fights Child Exploitation: Without a choice, thousands of children are forced to make a perilous journey
Open borders have been a gateway for the exploitation and oppression of human trafficking.
Open borders have been a gateway for the child trafficking.
Biden admin failed to probe more than 7,300 reports of migrant child trafficking, startling HHS findings show
Biden-Harris admin loses track of 320,000 migrant children — with untold numbers at risk of sex trafficking and forced labor
Open borders have been a gateway to make billions:
US Govt. Paid Catholic Charities $3 Billion to Traffic People across the US/Mexico Border – Public Intelligence Blog (phibetaiota.net)
Our children are now exposed to the flood of unvetted pedophiles entering the country during Biden’s (and the bishop’s watch). Arrested: Worst of the Worst
Our children are exposed to the flood of sickness entering the country during Biden’s (and the bishop’s) watch.
Open borders import disease.
New York City’s health commissioner announced last week that the influx of migrants from the southern border — more than 50,000 to New York City alone in the past year — is delivering contagious diseases, including tuberculosis and polio, to our neighborhoods.
Per the CDC: While still abroad, immigrants, refugees, and others who apply for admission to live permanently in the United States must undergo a medical examination.
Did this happen during the Biden open borders invasion? No.
Biden’s open borders are bringing contagious diseases to your neighborhood
The letter goes on . . .
“ Our Anglican tradition has long affirmed the Church’s responsibility to care for refugees and immigrants while engaging society with moral clarity and charity. Respect for civil law must always be informed and corrected by God’s higher law, which calls us to justice, dignity, and mercy.”
Again, I wonder what brought about this letter? Who is NOT engaging society with moral clarity and charity? Who is NOT “informed and corrected by God’s higher law, which calls us to justice, dignity, and mercy?” “Is it the “basket of deplorables”?
I view the deportation of the millions of foreign invaders as respect for civil law, as respect for my neighbors, as respect for “God’s higher law.”
I understand God’s higher law as that which holds people accountable with “justice, dignity, and mercy.”
The letter ends . . .
“I encourage the faithful of this diocese to live into these convictions: welcoming the stranger, discipling those within our care, and assisting immigrants and refugees to live responsibly and faithfully within our communities. I pledge to engage our diocesan leadership and civil authorities with these biblical values, and I pray for the nations of Canada, Mexico, and the United States, that we may act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.
Signed,
The Rt. Rev. Dr. Eric Vawter Menees, SSC”
If I see a stranger in my neighborhood, I say “Hi.” I try to connect.
I will continue to insist that all illegal “immigrants and refugees” be deported or remigrate home and then apply to come into the country legally.
Otherwise, our land becomes increasingly violent and chaotic, where traditional values and the moral compass of older generations are no longer effective or relevant. We will be confronted by senseless violence and lawlessness that we are ill-equipped to handle . . .
~~~
Some Thoughts
-During COVID there was a lot of Karen-like shaming going on. Not wearing a mask, not social distancing, and not vaxxing meant ridicule for not submitting to “We’re all in this together.” I get the same “get with the program” vibe from the two pastoral letters.
-There are those who think they know all about me even though they never write, call or visit. They “know” me from a distance, from what the media and church leaders present about people “like” me, as in CT’s Russel Moore (See below.) I get the same vibe from the two pastoral letters.
-That we should help the “vulnerable among us” sets up understanding illegal immigration in terms of the “oppressed” and the “oppressors.” Stay away from Marxist narratives.
-Out of context verses can be used to endorse all kinds of unscriptural church policies – from saying women should not be pastors/teachers to open borders to anything goes sexuality. Out of context, out of bounds.
-Much of what comes out of the church today about Jesus, comes from the TV. That is how some came to see Jesus as the docile, friendly, welcoming, and unwaveringly accepting Mr. Rogers. Being nice his emotional landscape and children’s. Do these same people think that ICE should take off their LE gear, put on a sweater, and say “Won’t you be my neighbor?” I will continue to ask the question “Where are the adults?”
-I once knew a female assistant rector. She saw herself as the PBS version of a female rector in an Anglican church in England – as the Vicar of Dibley. It came across in her PBS-like sermons.
-One cannot read the gospels and come away with Jesus being docile or unwaveringly accepting. Jesus didn’t accept whatever people did with their “inherent dignity” or “love.” He held people accountable. The gospel according to Progressivism doesn’t hold people accountable except for those who don’t go along with their narratives. See letter above.
Very reliable social media sources tell me that Jesus was a Progressive: he helped the vulnerable, the oppressed, and the foreigner. Why, they say that Jesus was down with socialism, abortion, LGBT-ism, social justice, DEI. Jesus was down with anything man came up with in the last five minutes to make the world a fairer and more equitable place, i.e. to make the world less God-saturated and more man-saturated.
Higher Law Bigotry
Two Judean religious leaders see a half-dead man lying on the side of the road as they walk along. A Judean had been beaten and robbed. But the two principled men stay away from “lesser” concerns to stay true to a higher law.
Someone the two religious leaders consider of low estate, as without their higher-law pedigree, comes along and helps their assaulted neighbor.
Turns out that the neighbor in Jesus’ parable is the one who sees what is going on around him and helps his neighbor. It is not the high-minded principled. And so it is with Christian leaders who ignore broken boundaries and their broken neighbors so as to observe a higher law.
~~~
https://www.dioceseofsanjoaquin.net/news–events
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt33324911
~~~
Victor Davis Hanson:
“I live on a farm beside a rural avenue in central California, the fifth generation to reside in the same house. And after years of thefts, home break-ins, and dangerous encounters, I have concluded that it is no longer safe to live where I was born. I stay because I am sixty-five years old and either too old to move or too worried about selling the final family parcel of what was homesteaded in the 1870s.”
The Diversity of Illegal Immigration
~~~
From my post Two Visions Three Questions:
What hard evidence do you have that an open borders policy is a good decision? Your feelings? Your empathy? Any talk about “welcoming the stranger” in the abstract is not hard evidence in support of an open borders policy. Is the evidence your need for cheap labor? Democrats Once Again Concerned About Who Will Pick Their Crops
And . . .
Lest anyone think that I am an “ignorant hillbilly” and can be known by my smell (Peter Strzok), lest anyone think that I am a rube and an uncaring Christian xenophobe nativist, and lest anyone think that I haven’t traveled outside my shire and am not cosmopolitan, know that I have traveled to many parts of the world and have met and worked with many different people during my 70+ years. I am not a misanthrope.
My travel, mostly for engineering work, included a trip to Seoul South Korea and within five miles of the DMZ, to Dhahran and Jubail Saudi Arabia and the oil fields worked by Saudi Aramco, to Warsaw and Bialystok Poland, to England during the Queen’s silver jubilee, to Rio De Janeiro, to Mexico – Tuxpan and Tampico, Mexico City, and Sonora state, to many of the provinces of Canada, including Saskatchewan when it was 40 degrees below zero, and to most of the U.S.
I did love coming home to the U.S. after each trip to some distant place.
~~~
Podcasts:
“American Citizenship and Its Decline: Illegal Immigration and the Loss of National Sovereignty” from The Hillsdale College Online Courses Podcast by The Hillsdale College Online Courses Podcast.
Citizenship is rare in human history but essential to free government. Today, the constitutional rule of citizens in America is threatened by a new form of government, unaccountable to the people, in which power is held by a ruling class that seeks to transform our society. In this eight-lecture course, students will examine the origins and history of citizenship in the West and the grave challenges American citizenship faces today.
America’s founding principle of equality created an opportunity for people from all over the world—regardless of race or birth—to immigrate to the United States and become full citizens. This led to a system of immigration that proceeded according to established laws and required a willingness and ability to assimilate into American society. These criteria have been abandoned in favor of a system of widespread illegal immigration that erodes the rights of citizens. (Emphasis mine.)
https://podcast.hillsdale.edu/american-citizenship-and-its-decline-illegal-immigration-and-the-loss-of-national-sovereignty
https://podcast.hillsdale.edu/american-citizenship-and-its-decline-introduction
~~
Influence Campaigns Inside Evangelical Institutions Podcast:
https://cis.org/Parsing-Immigration-Policy/Influence-Campaigns-Inside-Evangelical-Institutions
~~~
Eric Metaxas: Christianity Today Had an Easter Message: We’re Just … Better Than You
“Lord, I Thank Thee That I Am Not Like These Deplorables”
[CT’s Russel] Moore quotes the evangelical sociologist James Davison Hunter, who in a previous patronizing essay made the case that it is the begrudging resentment of groups who once had power that fuels our societal woes. Hunter doesn’t actually say “working-class white Christians” so much as dog-whistle it. Everything such knuckle-dragging relics do is actually only so that they might cling to what power they still have — or mebbe to yank it back from them’s what took it. . .
Cheap Amateur Psychoanalysis
Moore explains, for example, the real reason that some people want secure borders:
“In Hunter’s view, a ressentiment posture is heightened when the group holds a sense of entitlement — to greater respect, to greater power, to a place of majority status. This posture, he warned, is a political psychology that expresses itself with “’the condemnation and denigration of enemies in the effort to subjugate and dominate those who are culpable.’”
Here Moore might very well die in the irony mines, as he condemns and denigrates his own cultural enemies for … condemning and denigrating their cultural enemies. Because the rules are apparently different for the right sort of people. . .
Damn the Kulaks, Full Speed Ahead!
But buckle thy seatbelts, pilgrims, for the condescension will soar yet higher. Moore continues:
“Often, the most contentious aspects of American life center on the question ‘Who is trying to take America away from us?’— whether that be immigrant caravans overwhelming the border, the concept of American elites developing a global pandemic to control the population with vaccines, or the rhetoric of Satan-worshiping pedophile rings at the highest levels of government.”
Moore confidently assures that his critics are driven by sheer resentment — pardon me, ressentiment — and are clinging to some America in which they were top-dogs. But the positively Himalayan irony is that it is Moore and his friends in subsidized, institutional Christianity who are losing cultural power. So they’re lashing out, in essays such as this.
~~~
Christian leaders shouldn’t be more concerned about protecting illegal aliens from ICE than protecting the religious freedom of their congregants.
https://thefederalist.com/2026/01/20/if-your-pastor-values-illegal-immigration-more-than-your-right-to-worship-find-a-new-church
~~~
Here’s what the media does to people: James Woods: On Memorial Day, a veteran dies from being beaten to death for the way he voted – in America… – Revolver News
Where are the pastoral statements about this murder? None I suspect. This is a lesser concern and not the business of following the “higher law.”
~~~
We are to be the Welcome Mat:
Texas state representative James Talarico compared the nation’s southern border to a “front porch,” saying it should function like a “giant welcome mat.”
~~~
J.B. Shurk, writing at American Thinker:
Globalism Seeks to Kill the Nation-State: International government threatens the whole planet.
People are beginning to understand that those who rule in their name have long been working to eliminate the nation-state….
. . .That’s another part of internationalism’s linguistic magic trick: The same global corporate news machine that has spent the last eighty-plus years conditioning people to understand the word “nationalism” as something evil, militant, and barbaric has simultaneously conditioned the world to see anything “international” as inherently good, peaceful, and progressive. The “national / international” dichotomy didn’t happen by accident; it’s been shoved down our throats all our lives. But once again, if a rational person takes a moment to consider the semantic manipulation, it is quite absurd.
. . . internationalism’s true intent: Internationalists are building a global empire. This empire is authoritarian (because it demands global compliance at the expense of personal freedom) and totalitarian (because it requires complete subservience to a centralized and dictatorial global government). There is nothing “democratic” or “representative” about this international system of governance. It has no interest in protecting an individual’s rights and freedoms. It has no interest in respecting a nation’s sovereignty. It will permit both individuals and nations to be raped in the name of “global peace.”
Therefore, it makes perfect sense why the United Nations encourages mass illegal immigration into the United States and Europe. When you are in the business of destroying nations, you do not care if murderers and rapists destroy local families. You do not care if Islamic terrorists burn down Christian churches. You do not care if the “newcomers” to Europe and America have pledged to conquer the West. (Emphasis mine.)
~~~
E. Jeffrey Ludwig, writing at American Thinker:
Illegal Is Legal, Immoral Is Moral – American Thinker
[American society is] also are contending with millions of foreign nationals who were admitted illegally during President Joe Biden’s administration, whom Democrats defend against being rounded up and deported. This expulsion of illegals is an affirmation of our legal system, which has set up rules for legal entry into the USA. The rules were approved by our legislative system, but now and for the four years of the previous administration, those laws are being denied and repudiated by one of our two major parties. The Democrats are doing what they can to defund the offices of government responsible for rounding up those illegals. They are encouraging illegal behavior yet do not believe that a stigma is attached to that intention.
They are sentimentalizing immigration laws as though our already generous laws were overly strict and against the pro-immigration traditions of the USA. Illegal entry by “huddled masses yearning to breathe free” is being propagandized as being more “moral” than obedience to the legitimately passed laws. (Emphasis mine.)
Suicidal Empathy is Killing the West
In the new book Suicidal Empathy, evolutionary behavioral scientist and professor Gad Saad makes the case that the West’s most celebrated virtue has been weaponized, mis calibrated, and taken to a place that is actively destroying the societies it claims to protect.
“ . . . the “West’s elitist progressive political class is infected by a mind parasite that causes its empathy module to misfire in every conceivable manner. Many of the policy decisions that are wreaking havoc in the West stem from this poor calibration of empathy, resulting in a society that is galloping toward the abyss of infinite lunacy.”
The Road To Hell Is Being Paved With Suicidal Empathy
~~~
This Is NOT what Jesus would do:
New York City shouldn’t be flooded with filthy water, garbage, or aggressive illegal foreigners.
“When you first watch the video, you’d think this was some filthy, chaotic scene from Bangladesh.
“But sadly, this isn’t Bangladesh.
“It’s Canal Street in New York City.
“Yep, the Big Apple looks downright rotten, folks. And the kicker is that this is basically a no-go zone for Americans.
“And before the “refugee welcome” crowd starts screaming about how America was a nation shaped by immigrants. We know about the olden days. But the Ellis Island era worked because there was an expectation of assimilation. People came here, brought parts of their culture with them, and still understood they were joining something that already existed.
“That’s not what this clip looks like.
“This looks like a city that has stopped enforcing any American standards whatsoever. It looks like an illegal street economy operating out in the open, and it also looks like counterfeit goods, sidewalk chaos, territorial vendor control, illegals, foreigners, and Americans citizens being chased away from streets in their own country.” (Emphasis mine.)
Look at this horrific street in a popular US city. American citizens aren’t welcome… – Revolver News
~~~
The wolves – Globalism and Progressivism – have snuck into the church dressed in sheep’s clothing.
When Progressivism snuck into the Anglican church I was attending in Illinois via a female Wheaton college professor who became an assistant rector, I left. I knew the woke virus was already overtaking the congregation.
Progressive Christians believe “God is bigger than our borders, bigger than our language, bigger than our certainty.”
Megan Basham: How Progressivism Creeped into Evangelical Churches
Megan Basham: When Progressive Foundations Fund Evangelism
The political projects men like Christianity Today editor Russell Moore and New York Times columnist David French undertake involve a contradiction. While lamenting how partisan American Christianity has become (frequentlyaccusing other evangelicals of shilling for “Christian Nationalism”), they continue to launch and participate in programs designed, albeit covertly, to inject progressive politics into the church. (Emphasis mine.)
Progressive Powerbrokers & Corruption in the American Church | with Megan Basham
How Naivety Is Allowing Unbiblical Progressivism Into Evangelical Churches
~~~
Rate this:
Filed under 2026 Current Events, Christianity, Culture, Globalism, human trafficking, Immigration, Political Commentary, Progressivism, The Church Tagged with American Values Coalition, Christianity, church, culture, Globalism, God, Immigration, J29 Coalition, Jesus, progressivism, The Anglican Church in North America