We live in a soft age. Our idols are soft and so too our fears.
In the old days, our idols were hard. Quite literally. Stone. Wood. Sculpted and carved. Today our idols are supple, passed through the air, light as speech, mutating three and four times a year, made and remade as new virtues and progressive posthuman ideologies, demanding genuflection and honor.
The shift from hard to soft idols says nothing new of course about idolatry’s source. It is still the sinful human heart. This means the primitive embrace between idolatry and earth’s oldest fear remains. It is still the fear of man.
