November 2008 Archives
How would a foray end, when the sudden invasion of private property reveals that there is nothing left to loot? that the attack, the quest for the spoils of private pension funds, for example, is left empty-handed because the last decades have already been spent destroying wealth and undermining capital accumulation?
What happens when the promise of wealth distribution fails because what wealth there was has already been silently stolen and distributed? who takes the fall? what's the next promise?
His zealous supporters, filled with blank eagerness, have been maniacs expressing fervor with strictly no specific object. There is no plan of action to be enthusiastic for. There is no actual ideology to be dedicated to. What banners, signs, effigies, and propaganda posters will stand the test of reality?
We're not in the Soviet Union. Millions can't be starved or murdered when they don't implement the idiotic orders of the supreme leadership. A whole people can't have its liberties stolen at the point of a gun. So, how will the Marxists run the country now that they have obtained comfortable majorities? They have 2, maybe 4, years at their disposal.
So many are excited to have supported and chosen a footless fool. That he as a person, as a thinker, as a doer, is not substantial -- has been irrelevant. That his beliefs, as ideology, as plans, as solutions, are without support -- has been hidden.
His good luck has been to show up when the one seemingly in charge was an illiterate unable to formulate coherent sentences, let alone paragraphs, and to face an opponent who mainly believes that physical suffering, mindless duty, and rejection of principles are marks of honor.
As usual, the Republic gets the leaders its people deserve. It hasn't been a pretty sight for a long, long time.
So, he lacked in social experience. His demeanor abhorred grace. His words weren't tactful. His goals were crude. You could have said he was gauche, but knowing how much money he was grabbing, you had to see he was merely ill-mannered, coarse, and contemptible. His cloak of culture was what always threw people. As a maggot, he'd have qualified as gauche. As it were, he was an opportunist. Radical leftist when it pleased the girls, reformed maoist when the wind turned, always on the side of pleasurable expediency.
Silently they link us to our dear cousins --birds, trees, dolphins, carrots, worms, fungi.
Former holders of eminent positions on the planet, they never knew who and how we would be.
Without office or title, they arose from stardust, sustained themselves, begot, and always returned to the same dust.
For billions of years, they each became successful predecessors in turn. Ancestors, forebears, forefathers, they gave each new generation the genes and context needed for more successors.
From time to time, remember them, be grateful, and think of what legacy you shall leave.
Molded by what they hear, reshaped by the notions of passing strangers, their opinions are like clay, easy to use for beginners but without spine when life, liberty, and happiness are the crux.
Confused by their own sarcasm, muddled by their rejection of logic, their rotten mind releases the putrid vapors of stale ideologies. Are they dumb? are they fooled? no. They choose to evade facts, they embrace emotionalism, they wallow in irrationalism. Often, liquor and drugs have helped them stultify their brain. When they talk, they piss on your leg. When they smile, liquid filth oozes out. Their eggs are rotten, empty, vain, idle, unsound, of the wind.
Social life creates the need to parry, the evasion of weapons and blows, the avoidance of meddlesome questions. Be nimble. Recognize attackers and defeat their instruments. Practice adroit answers. Think of parasols, parapets, parachutes... prepare and be prepared.
To cause a riot in another's mind and heart. What action could be more disturbing? Perturbation for the sake of spiritual domination. Destroying not public order but personal peace. Provoking unrest, discomfort, and trouble -- sowing disorder and commotion in unsuspecting victims, by design. The skilled manipulator will make you believe that their work is the regular state of things, that turbulence is your natural desert, that you are the cause of your own agitation. They want you to believe that you are your own troublesome bedfellow!
Belated by incoherent demands, the young man mumbled something about an overdue revolution, under his breath.
Each generation is late to the banquet, delayed by the fears and strictures of power-crazed elders.
The storm has picked up, not to abate. No one should expect collectivists to miraculously vanish, or even to retreat, in the days --decades-- ahead. The intensity of their hope, the force required for their desired change, none of it will decrease; not until their numbers diminish, until the evil philosophy behind their movement becomes null and void.
Tribalism will be at and end when the cult of sacrifice is, too.
The story of these days is the upcoming election of a Sacrificer in Chief. One who will sacrifice you on the altar of his intentions. You will be reduced to deducting from your life. Lose money. Limit health. Count your days. Forget freedom.
Fight that, or we will all be beaten down, felled, slaughtered -- as if with one neck presented to the haters of individual liberties, to be collared or slit depending on the whims of the lovers of sacrifice.
