As I have commented a number of times, I HOPE people will take ideas they read here and riff on them. Let me lay down a beat or a melody, and you improvise on top of it.
The only people really still allowed to be creative, whose culture still values originality, are those of us who have not had our heads ritually chopped off by left wing Commissars.
What our universities are breeding are Borg. And the way they confuse the kids about it, is they call US the Borg. They pretend that “right wingers” all think alike and work solely off of talking points, when it is obvious that someone like Donald Trump ENJOYS figuring out what he thinks as he does along.
Joe Biden recently read “end of quote” from his teleprompter. That is very Borg-ish.
It’s astonishing, isn’t it, that the Left wants to elevate to our highest office a man a few months away from needing to be spoon fed? And who was a corrupt, stupid asshole before his brain started shutting down?
The growth of QAnon should not be a source of wonder. Some sort of conspiracy theory is needed to explain this madness.
The true enemy is always fear, and the greatest fear most of us have is uncertainty, of living in or entering a world whose rules we don’t understand. The great offering that the Left makes is that you don’t need to worry because you don’t need to think: you will be told what to think.
I am of course paraphrasing a Pink Floyd line there, and in their own time, they were speaking from a hippy, acid-dropping place, about Richard Nixon sorts of conservatives, who even then were by and large unjustly maligned, but who were certainly more straight laced and right flying than the hippies.
But all the hippies have become control freaks. They have bred neurotic, fearful, OCD children.
My task–and it is a considerable task–is to see all this clearly, and still figure out how to remain calm and confident about my own future and that of my children.
As a Coda, I will add that I am really enjoying reading Alexandra David Neel’s account of her trip into Tibet, sneaking in when no foreigners were allowed. Every day contains hardships, and not a few brushes with death. In one case, they trekked 19 straight hours through knee deep snow, on a meal that can’t have had more than 2,000 calories total for the two of them, so that they could get over a pass before the sun set and they froze to death at that high altitude. They had to guess where the path was, and she guessed right. When it came time to start their fire, their fire starter was wet and would not work, and if they could not get it to work, they were both going to die. At least, her companion was going to die. She had studied gTummo, so she put it under her shirt, and dried it out. When her companion came back with wood, they were able to get a fire going.
Having stories like this in my mind is useful. Our lives are so easy, that our minds have plenty of time to invent problems. Yes, the future of humanity may lie in the election. Yes, madness is stalking the land. Yes, these problems are deep and complex and seemingly insoluble.
But sufficient unto itself is each days march, and following rest.