At first I thought this might be a discussion of the radical differences between the official Watchtower position on 607 b.c.e. and the rest of the entire planet Earth's scholars.
But, then....it became abundantly clear that something else was happening. It is not unlike listening to two musical instruments playing simultaneously. The dissonant harmonic structure of the posts emerged as an effect in itself.
Scholar is merely chain-yanking by hewing to his line and repeating the "celebrated Watchtower scholars" mantra because it produces the desired effect. He is rattling the cages and driving the critters into mad fits as they hurl themselves against the bars. The funny thing is that it is an illusion in a reverse universe. It is scholar who is behind the bars and cannot emerge from Watchtower prison. Yet, his only joy remains; he can trap everybody else into actually treating him as if he had something to say worth responding to!
Folks, the merits of the discussion ending pages and pages ago.
What is now transpiring is the mad debate over how many angels can dance on the head of pins.
Scholar cannot and will not cry "Uncle" because he doesn't need to. His visits are to stir up the folks the way a kid will step on a red ant hill just to watch the buggers streaming out to do battle with an invader.
He keeps kicking the hill and the red ants have nothing to sting. The melee is illusory but the spectacle provides amusement.
In short: Scholar is certainly bright enough to know his apologia of Watchtower scholarship won't stand up against even the most casual examination. Thus, he descends into minutia the way you can stir up the bottom of a clear pond by scraping a stick against the sediment causing all sorts of effluvia to float about obscuring a clear view of anything.
This pseudo-debate is a windmill joust.
Fred Franz was bright enough to fool Nathan Knorr into thinking he could see deeper and farther than the rest of the world of humanity. Franz enjoyed that and began believing it himself. He constructed a house of matchsticks and plunged headlong into a bizarro cartoon world of "the sky is falling" because I say so. 1975 laid out reality's trump card that shut him up but good. It proved once and for all time he pulled his theology out of his lower intestines.
The embarassment to the celebrated Watchtower scholar (singular) brought him down to size. His only recourse was to make everybody's life miserable until the day he died.
One such casualty is the rank and file members who are loyal to these huckster doctrines and try to defend them.
Scholar isn't the first and won't be the last to die on that hill in a Last Stand that destroys their own personal integrity as their eyes are suddenly opened to the nothingness they thought was pure gold. The remaining recourse is to toy with the enemy (apostates) and make them dance like jiggling puppets on a string.
A dog grabs a stuffed toy and shakes it until the stuffing comes out.
Scholar is doing just that right here.
T.
