THE DASTARDLY SLAYING OF DOOWY THE WEIRD

More on Herman Dooyeweerd at Fearghas MacFhionnlaigh's blog site: 

https://freumh.wordpress.com/

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

Herman Dooyeweerd (1894-1977)

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: Herman Dooyeweerd.

Kees van Koninkrijk: Cornelius Van Til. [“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 H. Bahnsen, consummate exponent of Van Til’s

thought, and masterly debater. [Author’s attempted humour here includes play on term
“autobahn”].

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.