The DASTARDLY SLAYING of DOOWY the WEIRD (2009)

The Dastardly Slaying of Doowy the Weird 

by Fearghas MacFhionnlaigh (2009)

Scene: 

A derelict dockland warehouse in an unspecified American city. 

We are startled as, from one particulary gloomy corner, the just-visible barrel of a tommy-gun summarily delivers its non-negotiable message in a prolonged cardiac-arresting thunderclap of pulsating, tapering, flame. A funeral ululation of such ear-pounding amplitude that it sends a seismic tremor through the girders of the cathedral-high roof, jettisoning hitherto somnolent pigeons heavenwards like an eruption of tattered old hymnbooks through the grime-stained broken-glass skylights. 

The camera cuts to a high bird's-eye shot of an isolated figure stood in the centre of the warehouse floor, then zooms casually down and in, while executing a 360 degree pan of the subject. Finally we recognize who it is - big ‘Doowy the Weird’, the man mountain. And he don't look so good. He stands there transfixed, as if he has just remembered the most important thing in his life. Is he OK? No he ain’t! He begins to topple stiffly like some East European autocrat's oversized bronze effigy, uncivilly rope-yanked from its public-square pedestal in celebration of another new ex-communist state. 

We watch Doowy fall in ultra slow-motion until he impacts on the unsprung concrete. He does not bounce. His gently deflating greatcoat tucks him in like a good-night blanket. A supernova of skylight-gilded dust silts tranquilly downwards, suckered by his undeniably significant gravitational charm.

Now we have a high-definition close-up of his twisted glasses, which must have abruptly jilted his face as he kissed the ground. One lens is smashed. In the other lens we see the distorted reflection of roof-girders, sky, and fleeing pigeons. From the right, a trickle of blood enters the screenshot, forming a disturbingly glamorous red puddle beneath the wrecked eyewear. The camera pans over to the bulging suitcase Doowy has dropped. It has spewn half its contents out, like some dead warthog who got sick eating a mailbag. 

We are guided slowly over a plethora of important-looking documents in some foreign language - Dutch maybe. Then over a heap of dollar-bills (counterfeit?), still rustling in the slipstream of Doowy's nosedive. A dollar-bill has wedged under his fallen hand. The camera moves in closer and closer till we find ourselves reading: "In God we trust".

The camera leads us back to the dark corner of the building. A murky figure, machine-gun still-smoking in his hand, takes a step forward so we can just begin to make him out. The camera slowly pans up past the small scrapyard of shell-casings on the floor, the incongruous, carefully polished brown-leather shoes, the casually belted trenchcoat. Though the face is mostly in shadow under the hat-brim, we can distinguish just enough of the strong features of "Nutcrusher" Shooltz, law-enforcer with ATT-i-tood, scourge of more than a few corrupt police precincts. "Nutcrusher" suspected Doowy the Weird of heading up an international trafficking ring, dealing in illicit mind-altering substances. He had recently heard that two respected colleagues, Kees van Koninkrijk and his doughty chauffeur, Otto “The Lip” Bahnsen, had been blown away by (maybe renegade) members of Doowy's fraternity. 

Shooltz's leather-gloved hand strokes his resolute jaw. The face is sternly impassive, until we notice a corner of his intelligent mouth begin to subtly curl. Almost inaudibly, he murmurs - "I sure drilled that guy full o' holes...”

*  *  *

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Doowy the Weird: Herman Dooyeweerd (1894-1977)

Kees van Koninkrijk: Cornelius Van Til (1895-1987). [“Kees” was a real-life nickname of Van Til. “Van Koninkrijk” means “of the Kingdom” in Dutch - author’s attempted humour].

Otto “The Lip” Bahnsen: Greg L. Bahnsen (1948-1995), consummate exponent of Van Til’s presupposionalist thought, and masterly debater. [Author’s attempted humour here includes play on term “autobahn”].

"Nutcrusher" Shooltz: Hooded name of a prolific contributor to a Van Tilian discussion site of yesteryear.

Historical Context: Although Van Til was an enthusiastic early supporter of Dooyeweerd’s philosophy in its initial Dutch presentation [‘De Wijsbegeerte der Wetsidee’ (1935-36)], he felt very strongly that in the subsequent expanded English translation [‘A New Critique of Theoretical Thought’ (1953-55)] Dooyeweerd had unforgivably compromised on the issue of apologetical “starting-point”. Dooyeweerd passionately rejected the accusation. This dispute, and related disagreements generally involving attitudes to Scripture, estranged the Van Til and Dooyeweerd camps from each other in North America.

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Links: Dooyeweerd in relation to Van Til
Dooyeweerd: Van Til & Starting-points
Extracts from 'Jerusalem & Athens’: 
Dooyeweerd to Van Til (1)
- "'Transcendent' and 'transcendental' distinguished."
Dooyeweerd to Van Til (2)
- "'States of affairs' such as 2x2=4 are not 'brute facts."
Dooyeweerd to Van Til (3)
- "A typical rationalistic scholastic tendency in your theological thought."
Dooyeweerd to Van Til (4)
- "Supra-rational should by no means be confused with irrational."
Van Til to Dooyeweerd
- "There are no steps."
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GENERAL DOOYEWEERD RESOURCES:
Free downloads of BOOKS by Dooyeweerd
The Cosmic-Root Christian Philosophy of Herman Dooyeweerd
Mouse in a Glass
Dooyeweerd Site of J. Glenn Friesen
Andrew Basden's Dooyeweerd Pages
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