As a young writer the force was strong in Orson Scott Card.

His Secular Humanist Revival Meeting was a model of the form. He came on in the guise of a Baptist preacher to speak against creation science, and for a secular society in the humanist tradition.

The strongest statement he made in that talk was to note that any religion which gained the power of the state could lose its holiness because its first task once in power would be to oppress other religions. “This was even true for my own religion, in the Rocky Mountains,” he said.

His reference was to the Mormon Church, of which he is a lifelong member. To escape its secular hold he made his home in North Carolina. Still does.

But with fatherhood, with age, and with Bill Clinton’s hummer, something changed in Orson Scott Card. The faith which had always been a subtext to his work took center stage. His books became preachy. He himself became hectoring.

With this column, however, he definitely put on the black helmet. It’s his own site, let him say what he wants. But writers can no more compel agreement than honest preachers can compel belief, and I choose to believe quite differently.

He was even more explicit on Beliefnet. Card finds more comfort in the Siths’ absolutes than the Jedis’ diversity. The man who gave the Secular Humanist Revival Meeting now finds common cause with the forces he once opposed.

Oh, and the revival meeting? It’s out of print.

There are some on the Left who now see evil in this man, a man whom I once thought freedom’s true friend.

I don’t see it that way.

I see tragedy. The Star Wars trilogy is told as one man's tragedy. Orson Scott Card's conversion to the Far Right is also one man's tragedy.