~~**Welcome to my G.K. Chesterton Shrine!**~~

This page isn't going to help dissuade accussations of idolatry against Catholics,

but I don't rly care lol.

29 May 1874. That's the day the world was changed forever, because that's the day G.K. Chesterton was born and immediately starting crying and could not be pacified until he was given a pen and some paper to write his first words:

"It's a question of spiritual atmosphere."

G.K. Chesterton is like if C.S. Lewis was mean.

Lewis is so much more famous, so it's easy to take the Lewispill first. And there's nothing wrong with that, C.S. Lewis is great.

but G.K. Chesterton is the guy who converted Lewis from an angsty atheist to a Christian.

That means no Chronicles of Narnia without Chesterton. It means no Problem of Pain, no Mere Christianity, no Great Divorce, no Screwtape Letters.

All of it is-- okay, I'm not giving Lewis enough credit, that's not fair. The GK stands for Just Kidding. Just kidding, it stands for Great King.

Just like Lewis, Chesterton's own work is in another realm from the atheist slop we're expected to read in Current Year. no-one has ever made me want to read EVERYTHING THEY'VE EVER WRITTEN so immediately as GK Chesterton did. I dont even know what happened. I assume I must have been reading about Tolkien and the Inklings, and Lewis led me to him, but I have no recollection of Why I SUDDENLY became such a Chestertonhead, it was like LIGHTNING or somethingits it's like being born to become a Chesterton fan is like being born, you never know exactly when it happens

THERE WAS NO *BEFORE*, I WAS BORN LOVING GK CHESTERTON

Discovering old Christian authors, like GK CHESTERTON, who IS COOL, FUNNY, AND A GENIUS, is like the reading equivalent of uh, discovering Atlantis or something. Like there's all this ancient highly-advanced technology that's just totally incomprehensible. But also people are wearing loinclothes. That's what it's like. Words and ideas that have never passed through your plasticwrapped brain, but somehow "just work" and tear through everything you were raised to believe like a Halo 2 plasma pistol being dual-wielded with facts and logic.

"NOOOOOOO, you're not supposed to have energy weapons! You're a stupid desert religion from the desert from the longago times! You just wanna control meeeeee!!!"

"Sorry, Heretic. BZZZZTTS"
(NOTE: I know it's more effective when charged, the picture just looks better w/ rapid fire. You understand that.)

The amount of love and respect Chesterton's made me have for him in less than 1 year of discovering him is crazy. idk how he did it, i really dont. The guy was just an actual genius, and just as important, he was funny.

Tremendous Trifles is a series of short essays and stories about stuff like, arguing with cab drivers and feeling existential dread, Satanists being freaks, and trying to convince an art supplier to sell you brown paper instead of white when she really wants to sell you the white paper and you're like "pls just sell me the brown paper, i like it more. also, jury duty and lying in bed.

All of it's gold. Gold, just like Chesterton's heart and brain.

I was surprised to find out he wrote Father Brown, which the British Broadcasting Corporation, (appropriately acronymized BBC) has of course bastardized with a popular television series. I can confidently say that having never watched a single episode, simply because I understand modern media. Father Brown as written is simply not allowed on television in 2023.

That's a shame. There's not enough secular murder-mystery in the world to satisfy sick women? Sorry, stupid question.

There's about a million Father Brown stories, and I only finally finished them the other day, so I'm excited to read more of Chesterton's work. The Man Who Knew Too Much was like Sherlock Holmes for uh... not Doomers... idk, it's for people who know/hate how exactly politics work.

THE CLUB OF QUEER TRADES is what i'm currently reading and it's really good but i cant thinka bout it rn

CURRENTLY READING: The Man Who Was Thursday -- only 2 chapters in, wont comment butitsalreadysogoodaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa THE MAN WHO WAS THURSDAY WAS AWESOME.

if G.K. Chesterton was a Pokemon, he would be a Snorlax. BIG, strong, a nap enjoyer. and absolutely indispensible.

Critics might point to Chesterton being fat, because he was. His brain couldn't be contained in his head so it grew into his stomach. That's one theory I have. The other is just that he liked eating food and was too busy writing so many mind-blowingly good words on paper that he didnt have time to work off his caloric intake. Understandable.

Chesterton's writing has never been successfully criticized, because everyone who disagreed with him about anything he wrote was either stupid or, at best, simply stupid in comparison. That's not their fault, obivously. The man's simplest quotes were as stuffed with wisdom as he was stuffed with food. Because he was at his very core a truth-teller. Every single sentence he writes forces you to say "Ah yes, that's true"(because it was) but also "Wow, I can't believe he just said that, that's so out there."(because it was). He had a TALENT of writing things that are in hindsight completely obvious, but only in hindsight. It might be because he was an "ocular athlete". Noticing small details is an art somewhat lost to man. Who notices small details in our time? Speedrunners. The vilest creatures the Earth has known.

But all of existence is composed of small details. Details which Chesteron noticed and wrote about. But that's of course only 1/2 of the puzzle. It's too easy to get "caught up" in individual details, and then you've turned yourself into midwit, you've completely misread what the larger picture is. You need to be able to take this and that and this and that and this and that, and put them into something that reflects reality. And reality is terrible, but also beautiful.

to call G.K. Chesterton a defender of the Faith isn't accurate, the man was a pit bull. And not the cute "randomly get spooked and eat the baby" kind, but the kind with no on/off switch. The kind born and raised inside an inhumane murder pit that exists only to brutalize other animals for the amusement of perverted Anglos. He was a rhetorical Crusader: there is no "debating" G.K. Chesterton, there is only escaping him with your pride(Pride). I don't follow Warhammer 40K, but I'm sure there's some kind of super-wizard space marine. That's what G.K. Chesterton is. In fact, hold on a sec, I'll go check...

Ah, a Librarian? That looks perfect. Here:

That is literally G.K. Chesterton, and a good visual of why I love him so much.

He was the literary embodiment of the Yes Chad, and everyone dumb enough to try to defy him was a true Soyjak and he exposed them as such, in 4K. Or whatever resolution books are. It's impossible to read G.K. Chesterton and not feel humiliated either because you agree with him and you realize you're fucking up in some way, or you disagree with him and you know you're wrong.

A soyjak will cry out "OH SO UR DRAWING ME AS THE UGLY ONE AND THAT MEANS IM WRONG????" The Chadsterton would ignore that strawman entirely, and just say "Yes" in such a way that the cope unravels:

It doesn't matter that it was wrong, it turns out it was even more wrong than that.

At the very heart of every matter, is where Chesterton prefers to dwell. And that's why he was a great thinker, writer, and enjoyer of food.

Disclaimer for Protestants: I do not worship or pray to G.K. Chesterton.