Thursday, February 28, 2013

Middle East Peace

Who wants peace in the Middle East?  Show of hands?  Not as many as you might think. Oh, there are plenty of poor civilian bastards all over the place there who would rather not be blown to pieces as the many conflicts drone (sorry) on.  But most of the people who aren't closely involved don't really give a damn one way or the other.  Wild-eyed idealists like Jimmy Carter want peace, and Jimmy is still confused about the fact that the Israel-Palestine thing is still simmering despite the billions of US taxpayers' money he passed around to various politicians there to pay them to make nice.  Such idealists are always confused, because they're idealists and not realists.

Nice church folks, liberal and conservative, naturally think that the Israelis and the Palestinians really, really want peace, because that's what they'd want in their place.  That's just one of the manifestions of the weird idea that all people are alike, which is pervasive in the Western World these days.  They're not.

Now, Palestinians don't want to make peace because the Israelis took Arab land and ran the Arabs off of it.  Note that I don't say Palestinian land, because if I did, some neocon doofus would tell me that there's never been a Palestinian nation, which he thinks is an argument.  Well, up till 1776 or so there had never been a United States of America nation, but that didn't mean the people there weren't justified in being annoyed about British oppression.

And Israelis (or their government, to be precise) don't want actual peace, because that might dry up some of the massive foreign aid they get, and peace would of course make it difficult to grab more Arab land in the future.

And Zionists in America certainly don't want actual peace, because that wouldn't be any fun.  As only he can, Steve Sailer explains with a zinger of an analogy, HERE.

The Meaning of Argo

I don't go to movies very much any more.  When I get the urge, I just watch Japanese cartoons till the feeling goes away.  Of course, Michelle "Dumbbell" Obama presented the award to Argo, and that leads me to speculate.  A few years down the road, will Erica Castro be presenting an Oscar to Benghazi, starring Scarlette Johansson as Hillary and Dulé Hill as Obama?

Anyhow, Gregory Hood went to see Argo so I don't have to.  His review:


The Hollow Empire

Why Argo Won Best Picture


Zero Dark Thirty is not propaganda. Argo is. Zero Dark Thirty lost the Oscar for Best Picture. Argo won.

Argo is not one of the flag waving, guns and glory cinematic tributes to God and Country of yesteryear. As the American Imperium grows more distant from the real American nation that gave it shape, its justifications have become more sophisticated. Argo is propaganda for America 2.0, Obama’s America, the Empire that will fulfill the founding destiny of the United States by eradicating all authentic nations and traditions from around the world, even if this means destroying itself.

While Zero Dark Thirty began with the deliberate provocation of audio footage from 9/11, Argo gives us a comic book. As Howard Zinn and his People’s History of the United States (and probably the comic book version) is now required reading in government schools, it’s not surprising that the graphic novel style intro checks off the required boxes of apologies for imperialism, Orientalism, and racism. The ancient land of Persia is simultaneously hailed for its ancient culture but condemned for its history of oppression under brutal monarchies. The evil CIA, all white men in suits and ties, overthrow the heroic Mohammed Mosaddegh and install the Shah, who is evil because he wears opulent clothes and has a secret police. His wife even “bathes in milk”! Therefore, when the Shah tries to “Westernize” the country, the masses rise up in righteous rebellion.

The entire Iranian hostage crisis occurs because the United States allowed the dying Shah to receive treatment for cancer in America, and, in the world of Argo, many of the characters are sick about it. As officials run around in the midst of a crisis, actors quickly utter lines like “What did you expect? We helped a guy torture and deball an entire population.” While some government officials grouse that the “Russians wouldn’t put up with this. They’d fucking invade!” and news reports show outraged Americans, Argomarginalizes these reactions. A relatively lengthy news report shows Americans striking an Iranian in front of an embassy. The point is clear – we are just like them. The masses are dumb, xenophobic lunatics who need to be managed carefully.

However, this is all front-loaded in the film, a de rigueur nod to political correctness that allows the remainder of the movie to focus on the fanaticism of the Iranian revolutionaries. It dodges many of the questions raised by other film treatments of terrorism. Zero Dark Thirty admirably confronted the desire for violent revenge and the complicated issues that arise in pursuit of “justice.” Some would suggest that it even hinted at a kinship between Maya and the jihadists, both driven by some inner fanaticism rather than careerism or money.

Argo simplifies it for us. The Americans in the film are victims, passive unfortunates in a world gone mad, paying the price for the sins of their wicked ancestors. The Marines are ordered not to fire to avoid starting a war, an embassy employee who goes outside to “reason” with the crowd ends up with a gun to his head being forced to let the mob in. Later, Marines are subjected to fake executions; after the empty “click” one of them falls to his knees and sobs. This is what Americans want to pretend to be – innocents abroad, not prideful centurions coolly administering their Empire.

Calling for a Pugilistic Pope

Here we go with the Pope thing again.  Interestingly, there's this "inclusive" thing going on that I mentioned yesterday.  Pope's have always been White guys from the Western World, so all the talking heads are tickled pink at the thought of an African Pope or a Latin American Pope, just to put us White guys in our place.  No talk about an Asian Pope this time around.  And of course the Church has already come as close at it legally can to having a Jewish Pope, what with the last few bending over backwards to assure the Jews of the world that the Church loves them even more than it loves Catholics.

Anyhow, I checked into the rules, and as near as I can tell, the Cardinals are legally able to elect any male Catholic Pope.  Once elected, he gets automatically consecrated as a Bishop, if he isn't one already.  Since the Church now recognizes married priests, from Eastern Rites, there isn't really a rule that the Pope can't be married.

Well, I think the Church should shift gears and start defending Western Civilization and the White race instead of helping to destroy them.  Oh, the Church can recognize Catholics of any race, provided that such people do their best to adhere to Western civilization and help defend it, but there should be no question that the Church is a Western thing and should remain so.

Well, the choice is obvious.  He's about the right age and has the right attitude about religion, politics and culture.  I recommend THIS GUY to the Cardinals.

But James Noel Ward has somewhat the same attitude I do, but is maybe more practical about it.  He writes:


Desperately Seeking Conservative Pope

Very soon all eyes will turn to Rome and mainstream media will have dissident “Catholics” bloviating away on the boob tube. They will be “very very disappointed” when the cry “Habemus Papam!” is heard and will dejectedly say, “This selection has put the Church back hundreds of years.”

I can’t wait.

The Church is in a state of sloth from suckling on the state’s teat because most Catholic charities around the world are funded by grants, not the faithful. Priests have disappeared from their confessionals and rectories to hang out in louche leather bars. Lawsuits and inner-city decay have bankrupted dioceses around the world. Folks in Europe don’t even pretend the Church exists anymore. So we do not need a black pope, we do not need a pastoral pope, we do not need a friendly pope, and we do not need some smiling old forgettable jackass. We need a son of a bitch pope. We need an unsmiling grumpy old man who says things such as “Get your ass to work on corporal works of mercy or you’ll go to hell” and “Now, therefore, we declare, say, define, and pronounce that for every human creature it is altogether necessary for salvation to be subject to the authority of the Roman pontiff.” If talking-head media libtard gasbags squawk, he can always use the papal form of the old F.U.: “I shall remember you in my intentions at Mass.”

Do you think popes can’t be anything but cheerful avuncular uncle types? Think again. Stephen the VI was an SOB. He dug up his predecessor and had him tried for heresy and mutilated the corpse—twice. For three centuries, each new pope had to state at his coronation that he “smites with eternal anathema the originators of the new heresy, Sergius…together with Honorius, because he assisted the base assertion of the heretics.” Honorius is Pope Honorius I and the Roman Breviary contained the condemnation of him on the Feast of St. Leo II right up until the 18th century.
(Keep reading HERE for even more delicious historical facts.)

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Remembering Joe McCarthy

Some of you may be too young to remember, and maybe even to believe, that at one time we actually had anti-communist politicians.  The last time we had anybody prominent of that stripe it was Ronald Reagan, and since then our politicians have pretty much adopted communist ideology as their own, calling it something else, of course.

One of our most effective anti-communist politicians was Joe McCarthy, and so he was of course viciously attacked by the left in his day, and is even now universally maligned.  Objectively, though, of course McCarthy was right and his enemies wrong.  But you don't hear much anti-communist talk from our leaders these days.  It would be interpreted as opposition to Obama, and, therefore, racist.

Kevin MacDonald discusses a book about one aspect of the Joe McCarthy story:


Joe McCarthy and the Jews: Comments on Jewish Organizations’ Response to Communism and Senator McCarthy, by Aviva Weingarten (2008).



Beginning in the 19th century, liberal/leftist politics has been a hallmark of the Jewish community in America and elsewhere. The attraction of Jews to the success of the Bolshevik Revolution was an entirely mainstream movement among large numbers of Jews in America and led to one of several anti-Jewish stereotypes during the 1920s and 1930s — stereotypes that were aided and abetted by people like Henry Ford and Father Charles Coughlin. Into the 1930s the American Communist Party (CPUSA) had a Yiddish-speaking Jewish section. and Jews around the world had positive attitudes toward the USSR, at least partly because Jews had achieved elite status there.

After World War II, however, anti-Semitism declined precipitously in the US, and Jewish organizations were poised to spearhead the transformations in civil rights and immigration legislation that would come to fruition in the 1960s. By 1950 the Jewish community was part of the establishment — well connected to the power centers in the media, politics, the academic world and the construction of culture generally.

But there was a major problem that the organized Jewish community was forced to confront—a problem stemming from the long involvement of the mainstream Jewish community in communism and the far left, at least until the end of World War II, and among a substantial number of Jews even after this period. In Jewish Organizations’ Response to Communism and Senator McCarthy, Aviva Weingarten points to a “hard core of Jews” (p. 6) who continued to support the Communist Party into the 1950s and continued to have a “decisive role” in shaping the policies of the American Communist Party (CPUSA) (p. 9).

Weingarten notes that unlike other communists, Jewish communists continued to have an ethnic identity (p. 10) and often participated in the wider Jewish community. This is a refreshing change from a long history of Jewish apologetics over this issue. The standard line, not only among Jewish activist organizations but by academic authors such as Yuri Slezkine, has been that Jews ceased being Jews when they joined the Communist Party or participated in other far left causes. As a result, the focus of Chapter 3 of The Culture of Critique is to demonstrate that Jewish radicals retained a strong Jewish identity and a sense of pursuing specifically Jewish interests. Most egregiously, the American Jewish Congress — by far the largest Jewish organization in terms of membership — continued to be associated with the far left and was formally affiliated with organizations listed as subversive by the US Attorney General. The CPUSA viewed members of the AJCongress as “democratic forces” in their attempt to create “democratic and anti-fascist” policies in the World Jewish Congress (p. 25). (Keep reading HERE.)

Time Warps All

Received in e-mail:


Thanks to John/WA for this~

You should know that by today’s standards none of us were supposed to ever make it.

PUBLIC SCHOOL — 1957 vs. 2013

Scenario 1:
Jack goes quail hunting before school and then pulls into the school parking lot with his shotgun in his truck’s gun rack.
1957 - Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack’s shotgun, goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack.
2013 - School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in for traumatized students and teachers.

Scenario 2:
Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.
1957 - Crowd gathers. Mark wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.
2013 - Police called and SWAT team arrives — they arrest both Johnny and Mark. They are both charged with assault and both expelled even though Johnny started it .

Scenario 3:
Jeffrey will not be still in class, he disrupts other students.
1957 - Jeffrey sent to the Principal’s office and given a good paddling by the Principal. He then returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.
2013 - Jeffrey is given huge doses of Ritalin. He becomes a zombie. He is then tested for ADD. The family gets extra money (SSI) from the government because Jeffrey has a disability.

Scenario 4:
Billy breaks a window in his neighbor’s car and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.
1957 - Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college and becomes a successful businessman.
2013 - Billy’s dad is arrested for child abuse, Billy is removed to foster care and joins a gang. The state psychologist is told by Billy’s sister that she remembers being abused herself and their dad goes to prison. Billy’s mom has an affair with the psychologist.

Scenario 5:
Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.
1957 - Mark shares his aspirin with the Principal out on the smoking dock.
2013 - The police are called and Mark is expelled from school for drug violations. His car is then searched for drugs and weapons.

Scenario 6:
Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from the Fourth of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle and blows up a red ant bed.
1957 - Ants die.
2013 - ATF, Homeland Security and the FBI are all called. Johnny is charged with domestic terrorism. The FBI investigates his parents - and all siblings are removed from their home and all computers are confiscated. Johnny’s dad is placed on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.

Scenario 7:
Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mrs. Nelson. Mrs. Nelson hugs him to comfort him.
1957 - In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.
2013 - Mrs. Nelson is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in State Prison. Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy.

This should hit every email inbox to show how stupid we have become!
Visit 912 Patriots for Action at: http://912action.ning.com/?xg_source=msg_mes_network

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Konservative Kitch

I've said this before, but it bears repeating.  The vast majority of people who are called, and who call themselves, conservatives, are nothing of the kind.  Oh, they may think they're conservative, because many of them have never encountered actual conservatism.  It's to avoid being confused with such people that I normally call myself a libertarian nationalist — which is a pretty good definition of what actual conservatism is.

What most of these self-identified conservatives are is, well, liberal.  If they think some of the other liberals are altogether too flakily left-wing, they come to think of themselves, with some justice, as conservative in contrast to these other liberals, and, therefore, as actual conservatives.  No.  Conservatism isn't just more prudent liberalism.  Conservatism is a quite different animal.  It's not liberalism, but its definition is not "that which is not liberal."  No, conservatism is a preference for ideas and institutions that have stood the test of time.  In Western context, it's a preference for the values of Western civilization, and a skepticism about the values of others.  It's a preference for political freedom, and for social constraints instead of laws to keep people on the right track.  The last time we had an indisputably conservative President, it was Silent Cal there in the illustration.  Reagan was conservative in some ways, but was basically a New Dealer, as all Presidents have been since FDR.  Goldwater was still more conservative, but even he accepted many New Deal principles.  And the worst part was acceptance of the Rooseveltian (and Wilsonian) principle of sticking our nose in everybody's business.  A true conservative has a strong "mind your own business" ethic.  He minds his own business and expects everybody else to do likewise.  So obviously hardly any current "conservatives" are conservative.  One exception to this is Pat Buchanan, who is exceptional in many ways, and who should have been President.  Here's his lastest on the subject of conservatism and who qualifies:


Infantile Conservatism


Regularly now, The Washington Post, as always concerned with fairness and balance, runs a blog called “Right Turn: Jennifer Rubin’s Take From a Conservative Perspective.”

The blog tells us what the Post regards as conservatism.

On Monday, Rubin declared that America’s “greatest national security threat is Iran.” Do conservatives really believe this?

How is America, with thousands of strategic and tactical nuclear weapons, scores of warships in the Med, Persian Gulf, Arabian Sea and Indian Ocean, bombers and nuclear subs and land-based missiles able to strike and incinerate Iran within half an hour, threatened by Iran?

Iran has no missile that can reach us, no air force or navy that would survive the first days of war, no nuclear weapons, no bomb-grade uranium from which to build one. All of her nuclear facilities are under constant United Nations surveillance and inspection.

And if this Iran is the “greatest national security threat” faced by the world’s last superpower, why do Iran’s nearest neighbors—Turkey, Iraq, Azerbaijan, Afghanistan, Pakistan—seem so unafraid of her?

Citing The Associated Press and Times of Israel, Rubin warns us that “Iran has picked 16 new locations for nuclear plants.”

How many nuclear plants does Iran have now? One, Bushehr.

Begun by the Germans under the shah, Bushehr was taken over by the Russians in 1995, but not completed for 16 years, until 2011. In their dreams, the Iranians, their economy sinking under U.S. and U.N. sanctions, are going to throw up 16 nuclear plants.

Twice Rubin describes our situation today as “scary.”

Remarkable. Our uncles and fathers turned the Empire of the Sun and Third Reich into cinders in four years, and this generation is all wee-weed up over Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

“For all intents and purposes, (Bibi) Netanyahu is now the West’s protector,” says Rubin. How so? Because Obama and Chuck Hagel seem to lack the testosterone “to execute a military strike on Iran.”
(Keep reading HERE.)

The Rubio Ruckus

Us White folks like to be nice. We like to include people, if they'll let us.  Sometimes, we get downright pathological about it, and want to include people who damn well don't want to let us, and we even include people who make it clear that, once included, they'll happily stab us in the back.  So when we have a decent young chap like Marco Rubio show up, we fall all over ourselves welcoming him in, and in a Pedro-for-President Paroxysm, start thinking about putting him in charge of us.  That's kind of what happened with Obama, you know.  When Crazy Uncle Joe Biden said that he was clean-cut and well-spoken (i. e., not all that Black), many of us nice White folks happily voted for him not once, but twice.  Now, of course, all American Blacks are very grateful for that and have completely stopped complaining about White racism and no longer demand handouts or special treatment of any kind. [insert irony emoticon here]

But Rubio is better than Obama, of course. For one thing he's in that strange 'Hispanic' classification, and somehow we can count him as nonWhite, despite the fact that he could easily pass for a Lindbergh nephew.  And he actually is, in contrast to hard-left Obama, sort of conservative about a couple of things.  Sort of.  And while Obama reminds us of Will Smith and Sidney Poitier, Rubio reminds us of the guy in the photo.

But there's a disconnect.  Us nice White folks think that "Hispanics," a group of people from Tierra Del Fuego to Barcelona, from Baja to Luzon, are all going to be just thrilled that another "Hispanic," Marco Rubio, is running for President, and they'll abandon everything else they think about politics to vote for this twerp.  Fact is, none of them care.  The only people excited about Rubio are White Republicans.  Only them.  Steve Sailer has the statistics HERE.  Maybe Republicans should forget about rainbows and unicorns, which the Democrats have a monopoly on, and think about nominating somebody with clear conservative principles.  That's harder than it looks, of course, but how about at least considering Jeff Sessions?

Steve Jobs as a Japanese Cartoon Character

Sort of.  What's happening is that Steve Jobs' biography is being rendered in comic-book form in Japan by a well-known mangaka (manga creator, manga artist), Mari Yamazaki (ヤマザキ マリ), who is famous for doing a manga about the baths of ancient Rome called Thermae Romae (テルマエ・ロマエ).*  No kidding. Read all about it HERE (Caution: this site can be a little R-rated).

*It's really a lot more complicated than that.  Thermae Romae was made into a live-action movie, and if you think you can handle the unpredictable comic/cinematic creativity of Japan, do watch the trailer below:

Monday, February 25, 2013

The Hoaxtables


Received in e-mail:

WHY BARRY AND MICHELLE LOST THEIR LAW LICENSES


FORMER LAWYERS?
I knew they had both lost their law license, but I didn't know why until I read this.

This is 100% legit. I check it out at https://www.iardc.org/ Stands for Illinois Attorney Registration And Disciplinary Committee. It's the official arm of lawyer discipline in Illinois ; and they are very strict. (Talk about irony.) Even I, at the advanced age of almost 65, maintain (at the cost of approximately $600/year) my law license that I worked so hard and long to earn.

Big surprise.

Former Constitutional Law Lecturer and U.S. President Makes Up Constitutional Quotes During State Of The Union (SOTU) Address.

Consider this:

1. President Barack Obama, former editor of the Harvard Law Review, is no longer a "lawyer". He surrendered his license back in 2008 in order to escape charges he lied on his bar application. A "Voluntary Surrender" is not something where you decide "Gee, a license is not really something I need anymore, is it?" and forget to renew your license. No, a "Voluntary Surrender" is something you do when you've been accused of something, and you 'voluntarily surrender" your license five seconds before the state suspends you.

2 Michelle Obama "voluntarily surrendered" her law license in 1993. after a Federal Judge gave her the choice between surrendering her license or standing trial for Insurance fraud!


4. A senior lecturer is one thing, a fully ranked law professor is another. Barack Obama was NOT a Constitutional Law Professor at the University of Chicago .

5. The University of Chicago released a statement in March 2008 saying Sen. Barack Obama (D-Ill.) "served as a professor" in the law school-but that is a title Obama, who taught courses there part-time, never held, a spokesman for the school confirmed in 2008.

6. "He did not hold the title of Professor of Law," said Marsha Ferziger Nagorsky, an Assistant Dean for Communications and Lecturer in Law at the University of Chicago School of Law.


7. The former Constitutional Senior Lecturer (Obama) cited the U.S. Constitution the other night during his State of the Union Address. Unfortunately, the quote he cited was from the Declaration of Independence ... not the Constitution.


9. Free Republic : In the State of the Union Address, President Obama said: "We find unity in our incredible diversity, drawing on the promise enshrined in our Constitution: the notion that we are all created equal.

10. Um, wrong citing, wrong founding document there Champ, I mean Mr. President. By the way, the promises are not a notion, our founders named them unalienable rights. The document is our Declaration of Independence and it reads:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

11. And this is the same guy who lectured the Supreme Court moments later in the same speech?

When you are a phony it's hard to keep facts straight. Keep this moving -- educate others

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Note:  I posted this yesterday, and I have two comments so far that say the accusations are bogus, and which sound plausible.  Unfortunately, they're both from "Anonymous," which puts them in question.  Anybody who knows the facts here, please comment.  If this isn't valid, I don't want to leave it up. — Ex-Army

Feminism as Arrested Development, Among Other Things

A wise man once said that a feminist doesn't want to be dependent on a man — She wants to be dependent on 535 men.  (Congress — get it?)  Like all liberals, feminists are simply immature. They don't want to grow up and be actual women, just as male liberals don't want to be actual men.  They all want to be children, and to be taken care of like children.  Children, you see, don't have any responsibilities in return.  They're taken care of for their own sake.  And that's a cozy way to be, and of course liberals don't want to leave the womb ever, really.  Another joke:  I honest-to-god heard some ditz on TV say that she wanted free day care for her kids so that — drum roll — she could be independent.  If you don't see the irony in that, you, too, can be a feminist.

So, in reality, feminists don't want to be independent at all.  They want the illusion of independence, and there are plenty of enablers out there to underwrite their illusions.  Matt Parrott has a nice analogy to illustrate this:

The White Knight vs. The Wire Monkey

Matt Parrott

The first misconception to discard when grappling with modern feminism is the proposition that feminists are opposed to patriarchy — patriarchy being defined as the woman’s reliance on men for protection and provision. Modern women are no less reliant on men for protection and provision than they were in prehistoric times. They merely achieve it through more indirect and institutional means, so they can afford to be far less agreeable.

Rather than cry for a hero on a trusty steed when endangered, they dial an officer in a Crown Victoria. Rather than applying charm and grace to woo a suitor into providing for her, she uses votes and lobbying networks to influence the government into extracting wealth and privilege from the males she’s never met and will certainly never kiss.

In psychologist Harry Harlow’s notorious experiments in primate psychology, he simulated one monkey from wood and wires which provided nutrients and created beside it another adult monkey from cloth which did not provide nutrients. The infants overwhelmingly preferred the fuzzy monkey with its “contact comfort” over the wire monkey, only visiting the wire monkey long enough to feed.

Metaphorically, the government and its derivatives are the wire monkey and we actual men are the fuzzy monkey.

Even when we can compete with the system’s copious protections and provisions, our services are largely superfluous. And we still typically insist on loyalty, fidelity, and obedience in exchange for these services they can obtain elsewhere for free. While the protection and provision is originally plucked from our hands, the hand that feeds is the system. Even though I’m the one who purchases the cat food, our cats are loyal to my daughter rather than to me because she’s the one who directly feeds them. Even though White middle class males are creating much of the wealth that Obama redistributes to women through his cornucopia of programs, they’re loyal to him because he’s the face of the system protecting and providing for them.

After all, the welfare handouts are called Obamaphones, not Whitemaletaxpayerphones.  (Keep reading HERE.)

Sunday, February 24, 2013

A Miscellany From L. Neil Smith


Cute Japanese girls dance while L. Neil Smith makes observations.

Things I Know But Can't Prove
by L. Neil Smith
lneil@netzero.com


Prepared for L. Neil Smith's The Libertarian Enterprise

"It's a mad house! A mad house!"
Like most people reading this, I've spent the past several weeks writing and talking—again—about very little except the most recent effort of collectivist demagogues to illegally suppress the unalienable individual, civil, Constitutional, and human right of every man, woman, and responsible child to obtain, own, and carry weapons.
They call it "gun control".
Its real name, as you will see, is "victim disarmament".
We've been through all of this garbage at least a dozen times in the past fifty years. Despite what ought to be widely exposed as the humiliating failure of "progressive" gun laws to affect the violent crime rate (of course this assumes that "progressives" are decent, and therefore capable of feeling humiliation), despite the indisputable reality that the more guns there are in civilian hands, the less crime there is, and despite the fact that gun control is a bottomless moral abyss: an irrational assertion that it's better to see a woman raped in an alley and strangled with her own pantyhose, than see her with a gun in her hand, the same old nonsense goes on and on, over and over again.
Are liberals really that stupid? Well, yes, they are. But they're also crazy, and they're also evil. In this case, those attributes are probably a bit more significant than a lack of intelligence on their part so profound that even their enemies often feel embarrassed for them.
That's because, after giving the matter a great deal more thought than I ever really wanted to, mostly lying awake in the middle of the night, and after discussing it with a small handful of individuals who exhibit absolutely no deficit in the intelligence department, I have come to the conclusion that the past several weeks have not really been about victim disarmament at all. The real "progressive" agenda— at least in the short run—isn't about gun control, but population control.
Understand that the villains of the piece, the Feinsteins, Obamas, Pelosis, Schumers, McCarthys. Bloombergs, and DeGettes, are in this game for many reasons, ranging from metal detector company profits, to sneaking into in a warm, dark closet and masturbating, while chanting, over and over and over again, "I control the lives of 300 million people!"
However there is persuasive evidence that the core motivation of this regime's "intellectual" leadership is so unspeakably evil, so preposterously gigantic, and so surrealistically ridiculous, it's all but impossible for any reasonable human being to get their head around it.
It starts with planet Earth, a ball of mostly-molten rock about 8000 miles in diameter—a living entity to the least stable and intelligent among them, a goddess they revere as "Gaia". This wouldn't be so bad—personally I regard all religions as equally absurd, but your mileage may vary—except that the fuel driving this particular crazy-cart to human extinction is a hot, dark, churning, acidic self-loathing.
Mental and moral basket cases of this variety—of which there is an astonishing number, especially in politics, but in the "news" media, academia, and Hollywood, as well—radiate this psychopathetic self-hatred (to coin an expression) of theirs outward, in concentric circles.
They hate themselves above everything else.
They hate their families and their so-called "friends".
They hate their neighbors and their neighborhoods.
They hate their cities and yearn to alter them beyond recognition.
They hate the states they live in and their inhabitants.
Thy hate the country of their birth.
They hate Western Civilization.
They hate everyone and everything everywhere.
Peanuts' Lucy van Pelt, a rather typical "progressive" who always knows better how other individuals ought to live their own lives than they do, confesses, "I love mankind, it's people I can't stand."
In general, they hate their own species.
"Progressives" always accuse others of the very sins they're most guilty of themselves. When it's unconscious, it's called "projection". When it's not, it's called "scapegoating". They're always badgering others not to hate, when they are full of very little besides hate, themselves.
Libertarians and a majority of the Constitutional conservatives I know generally can't be bothered to hate anyone—possibly excepting the "progressive" pests who won't leave them alone to live their own lives.
However to this regime's "intellectual" leadership—the grand champion haters of the world—humanity is nothing more than a kind of skin disease, attacking their beloved deity, the 8000-mile diameter ball of rock. If you doubt me, simply ask your kids or your grandkids. They've heard it all in public school—or something very close to it.
To stop this human "disease" from doing further damage, Obama's advisors and cohorts in the United Nations feel that the population must be drastically reduced to the planet's "carrying capacity", most agree by nine tenths, ninety percent. Which is to say, that of the seven billion human beings living today, they want to do away with 6.3 billion. They don't specify how this is to be done, although they must already have ideas—and plans. They talk a lot about "a really good plague".
What we do know—because they feel free to talk openly about it among themselves, and occasionally in public—is that they plan to round up most of the remaining 700 million, "clearing the countryside" so that lovely Mother Gaia might recover from the disease that is ... us.
Every man-made structure will be bulldozed. Humans will be forced to live in camps until a few giant concrete beehive tenements called "arcologies" can be built, and work to feed and clothe the socialist aristocracy—the nomenklatura—who, if the old Soviet model is followed, will enjoy their palatial country estates—or dachas— staffed by the prettier peasant boys and girls they select from the arcologies.
Yeah, I know. All of this sounds like the paranoid ravings of a lunatic. Except that the more publicly palatable portions of the plan—including clearing the countryside—are openly endorsed by the United Nations, where it originated, and by various hangers-on in the Obama regime. It's called "Agenda 21" and you can find it easily online.
So before you resort to the magic mantra "conspiracy theory" to stop thinking about what I'm saying here, answer me the following questions:
Exactly what would you call the criminal, treasonous collection of underground plotters who eventually became America's Founding Fathers?
Or the banker-politicians who gathered secretly on Jekyll Island in 1913 to saddle us with the Federal Reserve System and the income tax?
Or the mercantilists who forced President-elect Roosevelt to shift all of his cabinet appointments to the right by threatening him with a coup?
Or the four-flushers and mass-murderers who arranged for us to enjoy the Spanish-American War, World War I, spent years provoking the Japanese into attacking Pearl Harbor, and lied us into the war in Vietnam?
Believe me, I appreciate that it is supremely difficult for those who are sane to grasp the profound depths of megalomaniacal insanity. Today confront a Presidential administration composed almost entirely of dementedly evil creatures, who, moved by the convenient mythologies of over-population and global warming, and by the United Nations' open advocacy of worldwide genocide, have forfeited their own humanity by plotting to murder nine tenths of the rest of us simply for being alive.
Still, there are things to be wondered about. If you simply want to get rid of nine tenths of humanity, and return the Earth to nature, why not just nuke the right number of cities to reduce the population to the desired level? Since the 1960s, there have been weapons— neutron bombs—fully capable of killing living things with minimal lingering radiation or damage to inanimate objects, real property, or infrastructure.
And then, after a long telephone conversation with my old friend Ernie Hancock, the energetic genius behind Freedom's Phoenix and many other libertarian undertakings, certain pieces began falling into place.
Ernie is very deeply concerned over a phenomenon presently going on all around us, of which relatively few individuals realize the ominous significance. Everybody that we have to do business with, one way or another, banks, grocery stores, gunshops, doctors, dentists, pharmacists, and most of all, the IRS, the department of motor vehicles, and every other unit of government at every level, collects as much personal information as they can from us and puts it in their databases.
As the increasingly open War on Freedom grinds on, all of these databases are starting to merge, so that not long from now—maybe within the next couple of years—humanity's one natural enemy will possess a highly detailed dossier on each and every one of us: our likes and dislikes, our practices and preferences, what we've done, what we are, what we think, what we want, where we live, and what we own.
Ernie believes the present flap over gun ownership is a feint. The real objective of our would-be masters isn't to steal our weapons, not yet. What they really want is data, and there are those, nominally on our side, who are so pathetically stupid, so contemptibly incapable of learning from their own experience, let alone that of others, that they're willing to offer that data to our oppressors in exchange for a moment of apparent peace, an interval when the political pressure lets up.
Okay, okay, they tell the enemies of liberty, we'll register our weapons, just as long as we're allowed to keep them ... for a while longer.
This is a perfect example of why my old friend Aaron Zelman, the late founder and director of Jews for the Preservation of Firearms Ownership, called the National Rifle Association "the world's oldest and largest gun control organization". The NRA doesn't really oppose regulation of a supposedly inalienable right, he maintained, they want to be the regulators. They've already compromised away two thirds of our rights for us. Now they're going to bargain for us once again. They're going to wheel and deal like the clueless, incompetent clucks they are, and compromise away what ragged remnants of our rights are left.
For Aaron, JPFO was (and remains) in the genocide prevention business. I never knew a man more bitterly opposed to any form of compromise. It was Aaron who had discovered an historic correlation between sweeping gun control laws such as those being demanded now by the most obvious fascists in the government, and the phenomena of genocide and democide, the mass-killings of millions that will mark the century we've just lived through as one of the darkest in human history.
Unless this one turns out darker.
If they get our data—the serial numbers of our rifles, pistols, and shotguns, the amount of ammunition we keep for them, whether or not we reload that ammunition—the government will put it all in the database. The machines will quickly discover, largely thanks to Obama's Marxist medical system, that you once had a medical marijuana card, or that you've been prescribed Prozac or Ritalin, or that you're a combat veteran who's needed a little professional help dealing with the horrors that the government subjected you to, or that you once raised your voice to your spouse, or that you were once mistaken by the police for a criminal and put in handcuffs. It will use all or these little bits of data to deny you your rights. After all, stopping crazies from getting guns is vastly more important than the quaint old and outdated notions of dead white European males about freedom, isn't it?
Isn't it?
Meanwhile, government will continue watching you constantly with its cameras mounted everywhere, its drones, its satellites, even the little CCD eye on your own computer. It will track your every move, exploiting your own telephone and car (which they are lobbying for the power to control remotely). And if you vary from your established routines, somebody, alerted by the machines, will want to know why. And in the name of National Security, you will be obliged to tell them.
Or else.
Of course government will define "crazy". With the enthusiastic assistance of the whorish American Psychological Association—the Southern Poverty Law Center of medicine—a group that invents a new mental "disease" every day (even now, anyone who may mistrust the government is said to be suffering "Oppositional Defiance Disorder"), they will diagnose away your rights, including the one to own and carry weapons, or even buy a box of .22 cartridges at the hardware store. Never forget that if someone wants to take your guns away, it's because he wants to do things to you that you wouldn't let him do if you had your guns. And those who think they own us have lots of plans.
In time, the electronic checkout system at the grocery store will take a look at what you're attempting to purchase, and forbid you to buy a T-bone steak if you're overweight or have had a heart attack, or candy, cake, or Coca-Cola if you're diabetic. God help you if you try to buy a bottle of whiskey. Not even the black market can be counted on because governments around the world are now doing away with cash altogether.
So there's the real mystery: why are the enemies of freedom, our would-be slavemasters—or more correctly perhaps, herdsman—going to all this trouble, if they're planning to kill nine tenths of us anyway?
And then I started thinking about labels. Labels were a very big deal, back in the 60s, when I was in college, during the glory days of Paul Erlich and Chairman Mao. Labels were quite politically incorrect (although that phrase hadn't yet achieved currency). The very same "progressives" we're opposing now (at the time, some called themselves liberals, while others professed to hate liberals and liberalism) didn't like labels. They didn't want to be labeled, they complained, whenever I laid my cards on the table as a libertarian. As it turned out, that was because they didn't want to be correctly identified as what they really were: left wing larvae—nasty little baby murderous collectivists.
For years, I've said that they had to abandon the good old word "liberal" because they'd soiled it so badly they didn't want to be seen wearing it in public any more. And to a degree, that's true. But their adoption of the word "progressive" also signifies a kind of coming out. They are continuing the objectives first established in the 1870s, by a movement that reached its peak in the 1920s, then seemed to fade away following World war I, with events like the Great Depression.
Of course "progressivism" didn't really fade away at all, it simply assumed different trappings, terminology, and mannerisms, and went on in the guise of the "New Deal" and similar socialist undertakings.
"Progressivism" had a lot of bad habits. It wanted to measure everything and everybody, especially all of those things that can't be measured. It wanted to tell everybody the best and most efficient way to do things. Everything they could get their nervous little hands on—cars and drivers, for example—had to be serial numbered and duly licensed. Even worse, "progressivism" begat expertism, the absurd belief that we're all too stupid to live our own lives, to house, clothe, feed, and especially to defend ourselves, and must be watched over and protected, mostly from ourselves, by certified minions of the state.
However the "progressives'" most repulsive obsession was—and remains—a prurient wish to selectively breed human beings to their notion of perfection. This bonnet-bee, and the pernicious movement it spawned, is called "eugenics", a word coined in 1883 by Sir Francis Galton. Eugenics has had many enthusiastic advocates over the years, including such kindly, humane, and enlightened individuals as Winston Churchill, Paul and Anne Ehrlich, Clarence Gamble of Proctor and Gamble, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, James (t-shirt) Hanes, Obama's adviser on pseudoscience John Holdren, John Kellogg, W.K.Kellog, John Maynard Keynes, Linus Pauling, Theodore Roosevelt, Margaret Sanger, George Bernard Shaw, Sidney Webb, H.G. Wells, and the ever-popular Adolf Hitler.
Every single "progressive" advocate of sweeping victim disarmament in American politics has a strong association with the United Nations, whose "small arms treaty" was deliberately designed to render every one of us helpless, and whose Agenda 21 is the blueprint for "clearing the countryside, drastically reducing human population, and using the remainder of our species as breeding stock in the massive eugenics experiments that "progressives" have longed for more than a century to conduct.
That only scratches the surface. In an intelligent, rational, decent society, such specimens, and their enablers in Congress, the courts, and the media, would be wearing straitjackets and gibbering away at themselves in an institution for the criminally insane somewhere.
In the short run, we must stop their attempts to disarm us cold, and repeal, nullify, or otherwise dispose of every gun law that already exists. The very survival of the human race, as we know it, depends on it.
In the long run, we have no remaining choice but to denumerate our civilization completely, to remove from every individual and every object the alphanumeric designations that permit a government with murder on its mind to count us, track us, find us and our belongings. No drivers' licenses. No Social Security or Taxpayer Identification numbers. No license plates or vehicle identification numbers. No street address numbers. No serial numbers on weapons or anything else. For a while, before we sort it all out again (the way it was only 150 years ago), this may create chaos, but there is safety to be found in chaos.
A first clue might be found in the way Robert Heinlein did phone "numbers" in The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress—your number was your name.
We also need "fire-breaks" between data bases held by various corporate parties like insurance companies and banks. Should these data bases happen to meet online, they both get encrypted or otherwise scrambled, with extreme prejudice, right back to the file allocation table.
A century after the invasion by Mongols from the north, the Chinese got their civilization back because their oppressors couldn't figure out their complicated writing and mathematics and had to hire Chinese scribes and accountants to run the empire. There is something extremely important Americans can learn from that. Among other things, we must hold onto the complicated English system of weights and measures, and the English should return to their old, undecimalized currency.
However in the final analysis, the one central, unavoidable fact of the matter is that anybody who wants to take your guns away from you is planning to do something to you that you wouldn't let him do, if you had your guns. Barack Obama is a dictator. There can be no question about it. He and his vile, disgusting minions—Michael Bloomberg, Diana DeGette, Diane Feinstein, Eric Holder, John Holdren, John Hickenlooper, Carolyn McCarthy, Nancy Pelosi, Jared Polis, Harry Reid, Charles Schumer, and a cast of endless thousands—desperately want to disarm you because they want to feel that it's safe to kill you (nine tenths of you, anyway) and breed your children like farm animals.
If, at one time or another, the British, Mexicans, Spaniards, Germans, North Koreans, Russians, Chinese, and Muslim Jihadists have been regarded as our mortal enemies, then what, exactly, are these people?


Additional reading:

The State vs. the People: The Rise of the American Police State by Claire Wolfe and Aaron Zelman, with indtroduction by James Bovard
Buy at Amazon.com

Death by "Gun Control": The Human Cost of Victim Disarmament by Aaron S. Zelman and Richard W. Stevens
Buy at Amazon.com

Agenda 21: The United Nations Programme of Action
official web site
Download Document PDF
View publication directly: Read online

Saturday, February 23, 2013

The Shamrock and the Swastika

You know how it goes. Everybody is equal, but there are inferior people who don't believe that.  It gets a little recursive, but this isn't a logic thing as much as a propaganda thing.  We're all familiar with doublethink, the principle of believing two contradictory things simultaneously. Even if we've never heard the term, we've certainly had the training, and we know that 1. All people and all races are completely equal in every way, and 2. White people are especially hateful and immoral and stupid. Oh, and ignorant, too.  Whenever you bombard a liberal with facts that disprove all his daffy egalitarian notions, his first (and often only) reaction is to call you an "ignorant redneck."

And as hideously bad as all us White folks are, some White groups are even worse than others.  Kevin MacDonald reports on the latest Irish atrocities:


Those Irish-American racists


NYT has a recent article complaining about ethnic solidarity of Jewish communities in New York and their connections to Israel.

Complicating the current embrace from abroad is the gated community’s extreme insularity. Borough Park and Williamsburg are the most Jewish neighborhoods in the city, a demographic makeup that critics say illustrates the enclave’s entrenched xenophobia, a dark flip side, perhaps, to all that ethnic pride. The consul general of Israel said he and others had made special efforts to avoid the impression of “the Jews looking after their own.”

Actually, I made some substitutions. The article is actually about Breezy Point, an Irish enclave in New York City receiving aid from Ireland following Hurricane Sandy. The article refers darkly to Breezy Point being “the whitest area of the city,” its “extreme insularity,” its “entrenched xenophobia,” and its ethnic pride.

Friday, February 22, 2013

A Fighting Man of Mars, and Other Delights

My first crack at Edgar Rice Burroughs was a copy of Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle when I was nine or ten.  It was only several years later when I got hold of his other books, and several new worlds opend up to me.  I'd hate to have to decide between his Tarzan series and his Mars books, never mind his lesser-know works about Venus, Pellucidar, etc.  I'd continue to rhapsodize about how that all affected me, but Unca Bob can do it much better than I can.  Here's what he has to say on the subject:


A Sense of Wonder

When I was 11 years old my parents and my other adult relatives would go to my grandparents' old, 1920's two-story brick home on Sunday, to play a card game with the very strange pronunciation of "pea-knuckle." Since my idea of playing cards was "Go Fish," I didn't participate. Instead, I hid. I was the only kid in a house full of grown-ups.

The main room was L-shaped, with the dining room at one end and the living room at the other. Each end was so far from the other it might as well have been two separate rooms. The adults sat at the dining table at one end, where they played that odd card game (the rules of which I still haven't learned), while I would lie on the couch at the other end of the L, in the living room, by the fireplace.

On both sides of the fireplace were bookshelves, built into the wall. There weren't many books on them--perhaps half a dozen. All of them were Reader's Digest Condensed Books--the concept of which to this day I still don't quite understand--with the exception of one paperback, a cheap tattered copy which even then had the pages falling out of it. It was a 1963 Ace copy of Edgar Rice Burroughs' A Fighting Man of Mars ("Hidden Menace on the Red Planet!" claimed the sentence below the title. There was no exclamation point at the end, but I always see one in my mind.)

Although I had certainly heard of Tarzan, Burroughs' most famous creation, I had never heard of him. But his name was forever imprinted in my mind along with the cover of that book, which sported a glossy color painting by Roy Krenkel, Jr. It hooked me on the spot. After all these years I can close my eyes and see that cover just as vividly as if it was in front of me.

Wow, what is this? I wondered. I had never seen anything like it. The cover had two huge moons floating in the night sky above a city of spires and towers. There were what appeared to be three huge airships floating high in the sky. In the foreground were two men, one flying through the air with a dagger in his hand, the other, with his Roman centurion-type helmet flying off of his head, turning toward his attacker with his hands coming up to defend himself. He looked really surprised, with the implication being his attempt at defense wasn't going to do him any good. Why this fight, with a knife aimed at this man's heart? If there was ever a cover that would make me open a book, that was it.

That's certainly not Earth, I thought about that cover. But it's not Mars, either. At least it wasn't the uninhabited and barren Mars I knew from school. So, then, what was this place? Lying there on the couch, next to the fire in the fireplace, I opened that copy of A Fighting Man of Mars.

It was Mars, alright, but it was a Mars that existed only in Burroughs' imagination. It wasn't called Mars, though. It was called Barsoom (Earth was "Jasoom"). At least that's what the natives called Mars, natives who happened to be green-skinned men. Well, sort of "men." The women laid eggs, which hatched little Martians. Until then, I assumed only chickens came out of eggs. But Martians? Ones that carried swords!?

There were other inhabitants--giant, vicious whites apes, ones with six arms. There were also Cackling Mad Scientists, cannibals, disintegrator ray-guns, sword fights, invisibility cloaks, huge spiders (with fangs), cruel tyrants, Damsels in Distress, and a hero with the unlikely name of Tan Hadron of Hastor (our hero's rank: a poor Odwar of the 1st Umak, although he fought in service of the Earthman John Carter, who had become the Warlord of Mars). Adventures galore, more than enough to put an 11-year-old in a tizzy. Years later I realized that although Burroughs had a workman-like style, he could by God tell a story. That's why he was as popular in his day as J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter books are in ours.

That particular copy, which I took home, is long gone. It simply fell apart from my reading it so much. I don't know what I did with it. I probably just threw it away; I'm sure with regret that Ace put out such cheapo books (which it did all the time in the '60s). But today, I have three copies of that Ace version, which I keep in plastic wrappers. I'm scared to read them; I use a newer copy for that. And every time I find another one of those Ace F-190 40-cent copies, I buy it. Someday I'll corner the market on every existing one of them.

As best as I can remember, that was the first novel I ever read. It's hard to describe the effect it had on me. I had never felt that way before. It sure beat the hell out of "See Dick. See Jane. See Pony. Run Pony run!" Even at six years old I knew the whole concept of Dick and Jane was just plain nuts. And godawful boring, too.

I liked the feeling I got from reading that novel. Not a little bit, but a lot. To use some '60s' slang, I dug it. There was something in me that said, More! More! More Barsoom! More Tan Hadron of Hastor! More of those Kali-armed apes and enormous fanged spiders! More of that unforgettable style of "’Silence, coward!’ I commanded.” More wonder, even more of the terror!

Not long after I found that book on my grandparents' bookshelf, I discovered the term for what I felt-- "a sense of wonder." It's applied almost exclusively to science fiction, but it can apply to fantasy, even children's fairy tales. I have my own definition for it--a combination of love and awe. Awe, I believe, involves some fear, although not necessarily a bad fear. That combination of love, awe and fear can make you feel more alive. Dipping into your imagination, and fantasy, can make the real world more enchanted. Anyone who's felt it knows what I'm talking about. To those who haven't felt it, I don't know if it's possible to convey the experience.

It also involved gratitude and what I only describe as humility. The fantasy writer George MacDonald, in his lifelong quest to describe the child-like (as opposed to the immature and childish) could only describe it as humble. It's the humility that comes from feeling awe and wonder, and the gratitude from receiving those gifts, freely given. Imagination is one of the few great gifts I was given then. I didn't even have to try for it.

After A Fighting Man of Mars I moved on to other books, all of them almost exclusively science fiction. That sense of wonder was very strong from the ages of 11 to 14. Even now, all these years later, I can still find it, although faintly as compared to those early years. But it's there. And Burroughs' novel will always have a special place in my heart.

I had not been a particularly imaginative kid, not that I can remember. I can only remember a few times I felt that sense of wonder, all of them only lasting several seconds, all of them from movies. One, I remember, was from watching the movie, The Colossus of New York, and once it was while seeing The Valley of Gwangi. I vaguely remember feeling that way, although to a far lesser degree, while watching such exuberant, anarchistic cartoons as Merrie Melodies or Looney Toons.

But while reading that novel I found the feeling lasted for hours. Why it started at age 11, I have no idea. Reading it, I found that imagination can be as vivid, and in some cases more vivid, than reality. I was absorbed in another complete world, one whose existence I had never even suspected. Who needs drugs when you have something like I had? I am reminded of a quote from Thomas Browne: "We carry within us the wonders we seek without us."

Love, and awe. It's why I grokked that book so much. Or maybe I should use a term Theodore Sturgeon created--"blesh." To blend and mesh. I became One With the Book. In a sense, I "lost" my self--I became less aware of "me." When reading the novel, if someone had called my name from around the corner in that room, I doubt I would have heard them. And if I had, I would have been very annoyed at the truly amazing spell being broken.

That's what it was--a spell. A spell of wonder, of love and awe and fear. "Small wonder that spell means both a story told, and a formula of power over living men," says J.R.R. Tolkien. The purpose of such a spell--and it's a good spell (which means there are bad ones)--is to create what Eugene Ionesco called a "world of miracle and wonder...utterly new and fresh and astonishing." He also said, "The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us."

I wasn't exactly a child when I encountered that book. If anything, I was heading out of it. But what I felt then, I still feel today was somewhat of a miracle. It was astonishing. I feel a bit sorry for people who have no idea what it's like, people who lack imagination. Stephen King wrote he considered such people to be in a mental state akin to color-blindness. I understand what he means.

A certain kind of person thinks that imagination is merely day-dreaming, a running away from the world. It is an escape, but it is much more than that. Tolkien said that imagination was "the power of giving to ideal creations the inner consistency of reality." He believed there was a link between imagination and the final result, sub-creation. His term "sub-creation" meant that Man, to him and many others now and throughout history, shared the ability to create with God, the Creator. Imagining a fully realized world is, in Tolkien's opinion and mine, Art.

When you draw away from this imaginative world, when you return to the "real" world, you can, if you're lucky, return to it with a gift--you sometimes see everything in a different, and better, light. You can see the ordinary with wonder, with what that old scary TV series The Outer Limitscalled "awe and mystery." And that, to me, is without a doubt a component of sanity. G.K.Chesteron noticed this when he wrote, "The Greeks were right when they made Apollo the god both of imagination and of sanity."

I am also reminded of some of the sayings of Jesus: "Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." The humility of which he spoke, I see as opposed to the arrogance so often found in those adults who I can only describe as crackpot realists, the ones who are convinced they know the hard-headed truth about life, but who in reality know only a small part of it.

I don't mean to imply people should live exclusively in their imaginations. That's a bad thing. There has to be balance. But when people can't escape into their imaginations, that's a bad thing, too. For one thing, it's nearly impossible to create anything. When Robert Fulghum wrote, "Be aware of wonder. Live a balanced life--learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some," he was exactly right. Such balance makes you "whole"--and is it any surprise the word comes from the same root as "holy"?

It would be, well, wonderful to live every second of your life in that state of love and awe. Ray Bradbury, who knows what he's talking about, wrote, "Stuff your eyes with wonder ... live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories."

Bradbury's asking a lot, and I don't know if it's possible to live every second of your life like that. Perhaps it is. Some very rare people appear to have found the way to it. But I do know it requires accepting everything in life, the good as well as the bad, the terror along with the wonder, the gigantic fanged spiders along with rescuing the Damsel in Distress--the whole complex and violent thing. That's why it's bad, again as Tolkien noticed, to bowdlerize fairy tales--or any story--clean for "the sake of the children." Or even for the adults.

Robert South said, "Wonder is from surprise, and surprise stops with experience." That's true. But it's possible to go from innocence to experience and on to something that encompasses both of them. It's a state to which those very rare people have somehow wandered. They've returned to the child-like wonder and wonder, humility and gratitude.

"The moment one gives a close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world unto itself," wrote Henry Miller. A blade of grass is pretty mundane, really. That's what our experience tells us. But in reality it's more than that. It is, as Miller and others have noticed, an entire world--an entire universe--all in itself, full of awe and mystery and wonder. It is possible, as William Blake wrote, to see a world in a grain of sand.

After all, I found awe and love and mystery and adventure and wonder in a cheap paperback book that was falling apart as I read it. Aren't there such stories even in a blade of grass or a grain of sand, if we only listen to them?

Burroughs' novel wasn't sanitized and tidied up. Had it been, A Fighting Man of Mars would have been one boring book, one certainly not worth reading. It might as well been called, Dick and Jane and Spot and Pony on Mars.

Yet, for all the horror and terror that can be inherent in this fallen world, there is still that wonder and love and awe. One of the main purposes of the latter is to not only learn to accept the former, but to also push it back. Tolkien called this "consolation" or eucatastrophe, i.e., the happy ending. It is the moment of joy at the deliverance from evil. Tolkien, who was a devout Catholic, related this happy ending to Christian theology, specifically the Resurrection, or the overcoming of death. To him that was the greatest eucatastrophe of all.

I occasionally wonder what the world would be like without imagination and fantasy. I know it'd be an awful place, something that would make you go like a shot to live in the old East Germany. I am reminded of those shuddery, grit-your-teeth places like Brave New World, or perhaps even more horribly, 1984. It would be a world with little wonder, little awe, little creation. Einstein was right on the mark when he noted, "Imagination is more important than knowledge." Knowledge is important, but imagination more so.

Personally, I prefer not only Burroughs' Mars, but better yet The Circus of Dr. Lao, where you if look at it in the right way, the whole world is a circus, and where a handful of dust is not just dust, but a mystery and a marvel.  (Go HERE to see Bob's original post, plus a relevant video.)

Anthropologizing the Anthropologists

“Anthropology used to be a science just like any other. Today it is a stomping ground for dogmatic lesbians and socialists with no balls.” — Gavin McInnes

I remember way back getting introduced to the anthropologists in college, Malinowski was the first name I remember, but Margaret Mead wasn't far behind.  And of course her Coming of Age in Samoa was anthropological gospel.  The second time I heard about Margaret Mead was years later, when she was denounced as naive at best in her research and conclusions about Samoa.  The story you'll hear is much like THIS. 
I've accepted this latter version ever since, because, well, I'd come to realize that a big portion of "anthropology" isn't science at all, but political propaganda cast in pseudo-scientific terminology.  And that's nothing new.  It started at the beginning.  But now I'm informed that it wasn't the anthropology-as-real-science types who "outed" Mead's poor scholarship, but quite the opposite.  And that maybe her naivety wasn't quite as pronounced as I'd been led to believe.
This is all because of a new book by Napoleon Chagnon, Noble Savages: My Life Among Two Dangerous Tribes -- the Yanomamo and the Anthropologists.  Gavin McInnes tells us the story here:

Anthropologists Gone Wild


Controversial anthropologist Napoleon A. Chagnon released his new book Noble Savages: My Life Among Two Dangerous Tribes—the Yanomamö and the Anthropologists on Tuesday. The fact that his career has generated so much outrage is a shocking example of how widespread political correctness has become.

Anthropology used to be a science just like any other. Today it is a stomping ground for dogmatic lesbians and socialists with no balls. How did it get all the way over there? Isn’t anthropology merely old guys with white beards studying nomadic cavemen’s bones? My personal theory is this: In the 1970s, a lot of Jews, Marxists, and Marxist Jews decided sociobiology sounds too much like eugenics, and since that’s what the Nazis used to justify the Holocaust, this line of study is verboten. Anthropology was then changed from the nature-based science of human evolution to an art that nurtured the notion that no culture is more advanced than another and we’re all equal in this big, groovy melting pot called civilization. Promoting fear of Nazis on college campuses seemed like a good idea at first, but when hating white males led to an “ugly war against Israel,” Jews quickly peaced out. Since then, other so-called oppressed minorities have grabbed the PC torch with barbaric enthusiasm and are now willing to set fire to anything that stands in their way, even their own kind.

Chagnon was there during the crossover and seemingly overnight went from a well-respected scientist to an evil Nazi responsible for genocide. “Impassioned accusations of racism, fascism, and Nazism punctuated the frenzied business meeting that night,” writes Chagnon of a talk he and a colleague had in 1976. They were at the American Anthropological Association and wanted to examine how genes affect behavior, but their peers demanded the discussion be shut down. Eventually, AAA head Margaret Mead was forced to point out that these anti-Nazis were acting like Nazis themselves. She likened their behavior to a book burning.

The savages then turned on her and proceeded to smear her career by claiming all her research was a hoax. Mead had done some fairly PC work in the past claiming Samoan tribes were OK with adolescent infidelity and that free love can be a natural, beautiful thing. However, defending Chagnon meant she was persona non grata in the Ivory Tower, and a rumor spread that all the test subjects she interviewed were only “joshing.” The 2009 book The Trashing of Margaret Mead may have vindicated her, but the damage these people have done to anthropology and education itself is downright totalitarian. (Keep reading HERE.)