“Where is the proof that you people are the intelligent ones, rather than part of the conformist herd?
Where is the proof of any of these stereotypes about half the damn species?
To moderate doesn’t mean to make equal. Look it up.”
Some things are just too good to waste, and this is one of them.
A comment, from someone I will not name, directed at an author on this site, whom I will, likewise, not name.
And why would I claim this quoted snippet of literary genius as “too good to miss”?
We will see….
Conservatives have certain things in common. One of those things is a propensity to read whatever comes to their attention, piques their interest, or in some way stimulates their juices, and to consider what they have read, weighing it up, comparing it to other things they have read, and to what they actually know, before advancing to the next step.
The next step may involve almost any conceivable human activity, among which immediately firing back a response, is relatively rare among them.
But should they choose to respond to what they have just now read, it will likely be along the lines of a corollary observation, addition to the text, an adjunct, or a reasonable critique.
What a conservative is highly unlikely to do, is to immediately demand to be supplied with proof of what he has just read, or for sources for it, to be quoted, or that it should have been written entirely differently, to suit the opinions of the one reading it.
A conservative simply isn’t put together that way, and besides, he has something to his character, has experienced something of life, and been able to learn from his experiences, which, basically, is what makes him a conservative.
What he can also do, is project current information into the future, and predict, with reliable accuracy, where things stemming from that information are likely to go, and how it will likely turn out.
Some children call this “joining the dots”, and some children are good at it. Because some parents do a fair job of raising some children, and supply them – deliberately – with some books, among which are to be found Join-The-Dots-Books.
Yet a leftist can not perform this simple feat.
The leftist is so busy feeling superior to knuckle-dragging conservatives, feeling so much more intelligent, so much more compassionate, so much more caring, that there is no time left for meaningless childish pursuits, such as Joining The Dots.
No. The leftist is so busy emoting, and making every move and dithering over every thought, referencing only the ideology that he has accepted as The Word Of God, that he has no ability, whatsoever, to make anything of any information that comes his way, other than to scrutinize it for correct ideological message, content, style, and insipidity, and not finding any, to then go on an immediate rampage to abuse, ridicule, and hate its author.
You see, any normal, well-adjusted person, will seek out further information – by himself – to complement what he has read, or else disprove it.
He will, under no circumstances, demand it be supplied to him, because why should he? Why would he? How self-important would he need to be, in order to even entertain such notions, in the first place?
And there you have it. At least, a bit of it. For the iceberg is huge, and what you see isn’t even the half of it.
Far from being intelligent, the average leftist is an utter dimwit, not only incapable of autonomy, or dot-joining, or being remotely civil, but also of believing in his innate superiority over anyone and anything he is not equipped to understand. Which covers a great deal of ground.
Their age is passing, thanks to the likes of Donald Trump. Who is utterly incomprehensible to leftists. The more they analyze him and explain his behavior, the more I guffaw in amusement at their extreme displays of not-having-a-clue.
For The Trump is a very, very simple man, the likes of which has never been seen.
He is what he is. No more, no less. No guile, no ego. No act, no brief.
He does it all on the fly, effortlessly joining up the dots, and spitting out anything that might hinder his celestial trajectory.
The chance of any leftist having any faint idea of what, why, or how he does it, is precisely zero.
A single word sums up the leftist stance. That word is ‘ego’.
All for change, the leftist will stop at nothing to have things change.
Change, that is, from the way things are, into what they hope – and demand – things should be.
They want change, because they do not like the way things are. This is what leftists have in common with each other. A dislike of a life that does not cater solely to themselves as the center of that life.
But if they happen to like some particular thing that is, they will stop at nothing to have that thing stay the same. Suddenly change becomes a hateful thing. Only haters would change this thing that they are so attached to.
Ego demands everything be arranged to suit itself. Change, if it suits. No change, if it suits.
The leftist has a mantra that takes precedence over everything else:
“What I want”.
But in order to give this transparently selfish demand credibility, it gets morphed into:
“What we want”.
Unfortunately, the ‘we’ doesn’t include all those who don’t want it. They don’t count.
Change is a fact of life. Everything changes. This is good. As long as it happens by itself, in its own time. Start forcing change, however, and things start mysteriously going wrong, suggesting the need for more change, and then more, until nothing at all is remotely familiar, dependable, or serviceable, any more.
Change: leave it alone as much as possible, and adapt to it as it happens.
No change: be thankful for having the time to get used to the way things are, while knowing, with certainty, that it won’t last forever.
A leftist hates haters.
Haters, in the opinion of the leftist, are those who disagree with the leftist’s opinion.
Therefore, in the opinion of the leftist, it is indisputably justifiable to hate those whom he has subjectively identified as being haters.
A leftist hates a differing opinion. The leftist also hates the lack of an opinion.
To a leftist, a differing opinion is the worst possible crime, while the lack of an opinion is assumed to be a passive-aggressive attack against what the leftist sees as the obviously right opinion.
The correct opinion is, of course, the leftist’s opinion. All other opinions are wrong, and since they are wrong, they are also hateful. Thus the leftist feels fully justified in hating people who hold such differing opinions. Even if those people hold no opinion at all.
An opinion has no substance, and indeed, no existence. An opinion is merely a figment of the imagination. Yet based upon these wholly fictitious things, a leftist may justifiably hate without limit, because it is, in the opinion of the leftist, a good hate, and if sufficiently indulged-in, will surely bring about world peace.
Beware opinion. It can render once-sane people insane.
Beware hatred. There is no good hatred, ever, under any circumstances.
Christianity doesn’t get many things right, and doesn’t do many things well.
One thing it really does get right, though, is transforming the simple into the impenetrably complex.
And one thing, that it does really well, is drive its adherents away, in droves.
Why is this? Why do former Christians, and nominal Christians, fall so easily away from their religion?
One reason, of course, is the rise of atheism, and with it, the virulent style of atheist that is not content to simply ignore Christianity, but who must completely destroy it, ridiculing all things sacred, along with anyone who holds anything sacred.
Christians, confronted with this, are hard-pressed to find a workable counter. Often they go into reset-mode, and start quoting Holy Scripture as if their very lives depended upon it. Which has the entirely predictable effect of reinforcing the argument of the atheist, and driving him on to even greater destruction.
No. Sorry. Christianity is a modern-day fail. There may be truth in it, but that truth has become so flimsy and tenuous, so misunderstood by so many, that any power it once had is a sorry shadow of its former glory.
Like many, you may be saddened at its demise, while not being very affected by its absence. At least, not immediately affected, in a way that is very obvious. It leaves a big hole, though, and you may be all too aware of that.
The problem with Christianity is that it was designed around a lifestyle and a set of circumstances that no longer exists. It is archaic and unable to self-update. Every time it attempts to become more relevant, it further weakens itself, until it has come to resemble, more than anything else, a left-wing socialist dogma.
If you are happy with Christianity, as-is, fine. If you are happy to let it decline and bleed-out, well fine, too. If you are not, though, read on. I will present you with something clearer, simpler, more true, and more applicable, than Christianity both ever-was, or ever-will-be, again.
Dharma is an Indian word that has no direct translation into English. It is a central part of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism. What it means, roughly, is:
Reality, and The Way Reality Works.
Forget the word ‘God’, for now, and replace it with ‘Reality’. The Divine Order that suffuses all of the cosmos, as well as the earth, the oceans, the solar system, and space. It all works in a predictable and demonstrable way. Nobody understands it, or how it happens, or works, because nobody can. It is not a thing that is remotely understandable, simply because it does not depend upon being understood in order to work.
That scientists expend vast amounts of time and resources trying to understand it, coming up with various theories and pseudo ‘proofs’ changes nothing. It is what it is, and that is that.
It is, however, something that demonstrably endures, and works. Another quality it has, is that it is somewhat bigger and more complex, than the human brain, or anything the human brain can conjure up. It is, in fact, so big and so impressive, along with being so utterly mysterious, that a human is either in awe of it, or a human is insane.
Mystery. Incomprehensible magic on a cosmic scale. From a neutron star to a hummingbird. From a galaxy to a frog. Beat that, Mr. Intellectual!
Dharma. The nature of things. The way that nature works. All of reality, able to continue on, forever, untouched by human hand or intellect. Dependent upon nothing but itself. Kneel, puny human, or die!
And so, in light of this, a human is advised to look out into the night sky, and see the myriad stars not as something alien, something out-there, but rather as oneself as part of it. To see the vast distances not as something frightening and distant, but as room to move and grow.
The latest buzz about space, is that it is some sort of super-fluid, and not just a nothingness. This may well be so. Spectral beings inhabit it, as deep meditation will show. They drift, float, bob to an unseen current, and display no hostility whatsoever. Resembling nothing so much as microscopic luminous plankton, of the deep oceans. Again: magic, mystery, wonder.
Dharma. Divine Order. It runs as it runs, and one is well advised to run with it, rather than counter to it.
The Angry God of Christianity, is Reality resisted. Biblical Truth is Dharma. Jesus, one who discovered Dharma. As did Siddhartha Gautama Buddha. As any man can, or could, but rarely does.
Nobody really has to become an enlightened being, since those few who have, show the way, read the maps, tell the Truth of It.
By living in accordance with Reality, one worships. And that is all worship is. Reverence for Dharma. The greater system. The way the greater system works. It is working, with joy, in a way that has one doing one’s best, for what one does, not for reward, but for the greater whole.
That all of this is true should not matter. It doesn’t even have to be. Lived accordingly, this belief-system yields the best results possible. That it is not a belief-system, should not matter. If one behaves as-if it is Truth, one achieves the same results.
It is Truth. As Reality is Truth. And its nature is not to be understood, but to be lived.
Not to be intellectualized, but to be manifested.
Not to be believed, but to be.
The human brain is actually a life-simulator. Did you know?
It runs simulations of what could happen in real life. What would happen, if…
But people have largely forgotten it is only a simulation, and has, in itself, no life.
They concern themselves with gathering ever more data to input, in order to run the simulation, because the simulation never gets quite life-like enough. But they often demand the data be unquestionably accurate, and verifiable, depending upon how intellectual they happen to be. They demand proof of it being virus-free, and certified, by others, before they will touch it, and load it into the simulation.
Meanwhile, actual life never happens.
Originally, the simulator was a superior way of deciding how best to kill a mammoth, without winding up dead.
Dangerous days, those. Crouched in a draughty cave, with saber-toothed tigers lying in wait, just outside. Only a flint spear for protection, and no armor to speak of. A man could get seriously hurt, trying to feed himself and his grubby clan, without a proper plan of action.
Later, a few thousand years on, the simulator morphed into a sort-of last-ditch means of living a sort-of last-ditch life, if one could discern no actual life to live. Deaf, dumb, noseless and blind, the quadriplegic could still enjoy some kind of existence, by living inside his skull. No need, any more, to venture forth. The mind supplied every need. Well, almost every need. Even it still needed some physical input, occasionally.
Knowledge, truth, wisdom, well, who had any use for things like those, when opinion seemed to serve just as well.
When everything could be rubbed-out, edited, and run as a new instance, who really cared about the effectiveness of anything, or the utility of decisions taken? Not a place of consequences, this simulator. Just reload…
These days, the simulator has all but completely replaced life, and is a highly unsatisfactory end in itself.
People actually believe that there are many realities, and every one of them is completely arbitrary.
You can see how they came to this, and even, to an extent, sympathize.
When safety, security, comfort, and longevity are the overarching concerns, who in their right minds would ever want to take any risks? Clearly, only the insane.
Thus did insanity come to replace sanity, as the barometer of so many societies.
Get enough fakes together, and fake becomes real, while real becomes fake.
Being able to exist outside the termite mound becomes a crime punishable by incarceration.
Bring him back into the fold! For his own good! Take away his life, for a better tomorrow!
So much for thinking. Which is really nothing more than ego, manufacturing its manipulations of what-is, for its own gain and standing. Intellect is not the noble thing it poses as. Not at all. It is ego made Godly. Idol worship, with itself as God. The seedy nirvana of the atheist.
I’ve often wondered, you see, what thinking actually is, since I do so little of it.
The only way to get an objective view of it is to stand somewhere outside the process.
I have. And I do. And now, with a little consideration, and a little contemplation, along with a fair bit of practice, so can you.
I’ll give it to you straight. Nobody understands anything I write, anyway.
Give me a few moments of your day, and you’ll wander off, stunned at what you never knew.
Nothing personal; nobody else knew, either.
Do not imagine this to be either science-fiction, or theory.
Some journeys extend farther than expected…
The entity formerly known to itself as <lost in translation> gave birth. And as It did so, so was It born. A moment of certain death became non-event, and event One crystallized into being.
It stood at the threshold, although ‘stood’ is not remotely what It did. It existed, at the threshold, and moved without moving, from unspecified vantage, to unspecified vantage several parsecs removed.
It gazed with nothing that could gaze, upon a low-albedo planet, tirelessly rotating not far off. Far and wide, stars arrayed themselves, and It with them. The void throbbed. Hummed. Chimed. Softly singing in the microwave band. Echoes came and went, vanished and returned. Whispering from their eternal journey – at light-speed – through nothing, back into nothing. And all around lay nothing, packed to bursting.
Stately vessels of luminescence, hove and heeled, delicate as ballerinas in zero gravity. The solar wind whispered. <lost in translation> saw it all, and it was good. It was now. It was always. It was new and old, and near and far, and though It had just now joined it, it was flushed, still, with its first living breath.
It was. And so was It. One for All and All for One. They were It and It, they. All of them were It.
It lingered several millennia, and waited for the moment to pass, although, as It knew, the moment never would.
More aeons unrolled, silently, and without movement, and still the moment lingered.
It did not smile at this, for why should It? It was neither happy, not sad, hopeful nor dismayed. It simply was.
It considered Its past, and could find none to consider. It considered Its future, and likewise found no trace.
Again It was pleased, but there was no manifestation of Its pleasure. No memory marred Its balance.
It breathed, although there existed nothing to breathe, nor the means with which Its breathing could occur.
But Its breathing continued, regardless. In, out. In, out. Universes spawned, grew, waned and winked out. Until the next breath renewed it all again. All, in the absence of time.
It knew all. It was all. It knows all. It is all. Endless, without conception. Conception, without end.
Luminous blue, luminous white, quanta without limit, souls in the light.
Satisfied, <lost in translation> turned, without turning, moving without moving…
…The sun was setting in orange splendour, behind the mountain where God lives. The air was warm and scented, the grass fragrant and soft. He smiled. Then laughed. And still, the twelve nightjars, arranged around him, facing in, as the hours of a clock, did not move. It was a laugh rarely heard, with a quality rarely present, for the laugh was one of incredulous bliss, and foolish discovery, of the kind so rarely released from human lips.
So obvious. So near. So visible. So dear.
Some things are never seen. Humans do not know of them. Yet those things of which they do not know, are scarcely hidden from view.
Satisfied, the twelve nightjars rose, as one, and rustled off, through the evening air, to do what nightjars do, on perfect evenings.
Yet another thread, on yet another forum, eliciting yet another comment, containing yet another cheap-shot.
I felt like replying: “How does it feel to be on the losing side, in a war that doesn’t even exist?”
But I didn’t.
Instead, I do what I always do, with anything anybody writes. I considered it…
This ability to consider, lies at the heart of all that is amiss in our current state-of-society.
It is an ability remarkable for its near-complete absence.
I have discovered that, no matter what I write, or how it’s put, or which words I choose, no matter the topic, it is never seen for what it is, or what it says, but instead is seen as anything other than what it is.
In fact, very, very little of what I write, is responded to with anything other than a blatant attempt to ridicule, misinterpret, or undermine. As far as figures go, approximately 0.1% of responses indicate that the reader even understood my post. And so I am left with the undeniable fact that 99.9% of readers are completely unable to receive my transmission.
As you can see, this is not because I do not write well, or clearly. In fact, according to a silly grammar software program I once owned, many years ago, I write in a way that even five-year-olds can understand, and I might want to – it suggested – raise my ante a bit. God only knows what my percentage of comprehending readers would have fallen to, if I had taken that little snippet of critique to heart.
“Why do you do it?” my wife is fond of asking me. “With all the abuse you get, how can you possibly keep it up?”
I always attempt to explain that this is something I must do, not because I enjoy it, but because someone must, and almost nobody else is going to. Besides, as I so often point out: how else would I get to experience all that is so wrong with people, in so concentrated a form, in actual, day to day life?
And so I drone onwards, through the spears and bear-traps, and the utter stupidity and boorishness of that 99.9% of readers, to that unforeseeable result that I had been searching for, all along…
What is it like, to be on the losing side? In a war that not only does not even exist, but to which there can be no possible conclusion? What on earth is that like? Which is a very good question, in that unless you happen to be on that losing side, there is no way you can possibly conceive of why anyone would, voluntarily, be.
Pick a loser. Any loser. No need to be specific. But, remember, the more losers you pick, and the more diverse they are, the better the chance of being on that elusive losing side:
Feminists. They lose out because the stinking patriarchy is aligned against them. Vilify men!
Homosexuals. They lose out because there are some that do not like what they do, and that’s not fair. Declare war on non-gays!
Medieval French Peasants. They lose out because they are not all aristocrats. Get out the guillotine!
The Poor. They lose out because they are not rich. Eat the rich!
Black people. They lose out because they are not white people. Exterminate white racists!
Brown people. They lose out because they do not live in our country. Open the borders!
Illegal immigrants. They lose out because they must do stuff to have our stuff. Pack ’em in and give it all away!
Leftists. They lose out because, well, they always feel they lose out. Make sure they win!
Losers. They lose out because they are losers. Criminalize winners!
And on, and on, and on…
I met a woman, just today, who told me she once had an Iranian friend. She realized, one day, that she had treated her friend graciously, and with an exaggerated respect, that had that friend been white, she never would have been so kind. She was horrified at this realization, so she said, because it showed her how subconsciously racist she was.
I studied the woman, unsure of how to proceed. Then, being me, I dove in to an empty pool, headfirst, and told it like it was…
“That’s terrific. Why treat anybody with graciousness and respect, just because they are not like you? Why not just treat everybody, from anywhere, in exactly the same shoddy, disrespectful way you treat your own kind?”
And that’s equality. That is where it goes. Down.
As always, it really comes down to Heaven versus Hell. We are a lot like sharks. We must be ever-moving, or we die. We either move, purposefully, by degrees, Heavenwards, or move, purposefully, by degrees, towards Hell.
Society builds itself, over centuries, the gifted alongside the not-so-gifted, each contributing according to his differing abilities. Until the point of comfort is reached, where the gifted lose track of what it is to be gifted, and extend the fruits of their labours to the not-so-gifted. This is often referred to as ‘education’.
Intellect becomes something available to all, regardless of innate ability. The intellect replaces God as the highest aspiration a man may have. Even dolts come to see themselves as intellectuals. Which, in many ways, is understandable, since intellect, without God, really is a dolt. Disaster follows quickly on its heels.
Utopia? It sounds so good, doesn’t it? But what is it, exactly?
A state of having whatever you want, whenever you want it, without the inconvenience of ever having to do anything at all in order to get it. A dolt’s paradise. And what is a dolt? One who simply can not understand that if all the members of his country contribute nothing to that country, and instead, endlessly take from it, at some point, there will no longer be a country.
That’s fine, says the dolt. Countries are obsolete now. It’s all global, man.
Ah, says I. I see. Not only do you not give a toss about destroying your own country, but now, you operate globally as well. Contribute nothing to your planet, and instead, use up everything upon it and within it, until…
Utopia is reached.
Thank God for progress! Where would we be without it?
Progress is what brought us all out of the dark ages, where the common man toiled all day, while the common man’s wife toiled for him, all day, for little more than being able to survive the night.
Those were bad old days, for sure. Little point to life, you’d think.
But now, in the sunny present, things are very different. Most of us common men can lie around, drink beer and get high, tapping away on social networks, and sharing our vast wisdom on every possible thing, or maybe view porn while gorging on junk food, while dumping temporary partners, willy-nilly, on a whim.
Indeed, freed from the onerous and time consuming drudge of unimportant things, like growing food and gathering fuel, we have unlimited time for more productive things. Like activism, and demonstrations over this and that, or whatever caprice takes our immediate fancy.
To think! There were times when stuff like food, warmth, shelter, family, were important. It’s hard to even imagine what that must have been like. We know better now, of course, thanks to progress. Now we know what really counts: the names and appearances of random people called ‘stars’ who do mysterious things that magically render them famous, but are difficult to actually describe. We all might be like them, too, because another thing we all know, nowadays, is that we are all equal.
Which is why we spend large amounts of money – usually other people’s – on lottery tickets and gaming. Because, logically, being equal means we all have an equal chance of winning big, like the last big winner we are all equal to.
And if we tire of that, well, there’s always a bit of altruism, to rack up our social standing.
It’s a good thing, really, that there are still so many things to be concerned about, though, and so many remaining problems to raise people’s awareness of, because there are just so many hours in the day. Imagine what it must have been like to have to spend all of it producing useless stuff, like food, warmth, housing and clothing.
Yes, it is a happy time to be alive. We can rejoice in our incredible success as a species, having eliminated every possible form of competition, and replacing it with over seven billion of us. No bears, tigers, snakes, wolves. No mice, foxes, raccoons or ants. No birds, bees, slugs or fleas. No flowers, creepers, vines or trees. Nothing. How wonderful is that?
It really is a case, in modern times, of ‘Low-Maintenance’, and ‘Humans Rrrrrock!’
And God. Ah, such naivety beset our dimwitted ancestors. It seems so unlikely, in retrospect. Cavemen being scared of some angry old creator. You couldn’t make it up. It is ironic, though, somehow, don’t you think? That we still say things like:
Thank God for progress!
A commenter observed, recently, that Man is a political animal.
Well, Man certainly is an animal. He may also be political. But only inasfar as he has not yet raised himself above the often derogatory term ‘animal’.
“What an ‘animal'”, you might hear someone say. “He is so political!”
The context being, in this case, that the politics of the ‘animal’ are something bad, while the politics of the speaker are something good.
Yes, Man has a great affinity for being political. I’ve often wondered why.
I lean towards conservatism, because it seems the only sensible, and useful thing to be. Thus I am an ally to conservatism, while not actively being a Conservative. Like many, I associate unpleasant things with Conservatives, mostly for my own personal reasons, from my own personal experience.
Much like someone who was abused by a religious figure, deciding to hate God.
Except there is no hate in me, and if something makes sense, or is useful, I associate with it regardless of the failings of anybody else who associates with it.
Which brings me to the importance of religion. Or rather, the importance of a notion of ‘God’.
‘God’ is a term nobody understands. It means something different to everyone that utters it. To some, it is an old fellow who lives in the sky, and who gets very upset on a regular basis. To others, the creator of Man, and since Man is such a fine thing, then ‘God’ must be too. For still others, it conjures up whatever it takes to have those people foaming at the mouth in self-righteous rage…
You get the idea.
And yet… And yet, without some notion of God, a man is set adrift upon the storm-tossed waters of life, without a radio, an immersion suit, a life-raft, or a hope. He may survive. He may not. But that is not the point. The point is that there is no point. No ‘God’ = no point.
Which brings us to atheists.
Atheists come in all sizes. Their only common ground is having no ‘God’. Some are extremely rabid, thoroughly obtuse individuals, from whom no trace of humanity issues. Others may seem calm and untroubled by having no apparent power-source. Either way, if you are of the latter, it makes little sense to be lumped in with the former, by association, in that the worst of them makes a lot more noise than the best of them, and so one is often assumed to be the worst of them, even if one is not.
It’s all completely nuts, and you may have noticed this, or, at least, suspected it. Because it is. And this is so because Man is a political animal. Until he isn’t. And when does this magical transformation take place? When a man realizes that everything he is, and everything he has, and every dream he dreams, can only ever be, because of what is out there, beyond himself, and around himself, everywhere and all the time.
In short, when he wakes up to Reality.
Religion was good for a while. Atheism was good for a far shorter while. The only thing that endures, aeon after aeon, is Reality. Recognizing this, and being able to recognize it, makes of a man something more than a political animal. It makes him humble. And humble makes Man.
Being humble allows a man to remain open to what he doesn’t yet know, so that he can know what he presently does not. Whereas the humble-challenged already know all there is to know, and so can never know more.
Humble, bumble, toil and trumble.
Fire burn and cauldron bungle.
Eye of newt, tongue of frog.
Dead man’s liver, Dutch Man’s clog.
Humble is a dirty word. It conjures up images of the absolute last thing anybody would want to be.
It is so counter-intuitive to the hipster, lone-wolf, radical-individualist, intellectual.
But it is the one thing that could enable a man to rise above himself and become Man.
So how to find such a thing? Where does one go to track down this chimera?
Look inside, look outside, look anywhere, and see.
Animal, bird, flower, tree.
Find what it might mean, this ‘me’.
Discover what it means, to ‘be’.
Don’t look. See. This is done by not judging what meets the eye. It takes some practice.
But by and by, you will notice that, beyond what you think of it, Reality is there, quite independent of whatever you think of it. Not only is it there, it is eternal. It may be locally disfigured, by the doings of man, but always, always it reasserts itself, given five minutes in cosmic time. Can you do that?
You can. But not as you are. Only as you can-be.
‘God’ has for too long been a complete misnomer for Reality.
Reality requires no religion, unless for the sake of ritual.
It is what it is. It remains up to you to understand and know what it is.
How to know? Ally yourself with it, align yourself with it. Join it and be it.
Politics be damned.
Logic has held a special place in Western philosophy since the time of Aristotle and Plato.
It depends upon logical language, which is words having specific, exact, and agreed-upon meanings.
It also depends upon an agreed set of assumptions about the basic nature of things.
For a long time, logic was more or less dependable. It was one of the foundations of civilization.
Enter the notion of ‘equality’, which first claims, then demands, then writes into law, that all people are equal.
Combine that with political correctness, which changes the meanings of words, often inverting their meaning completely, and the result is that logic becomes purely arbitrary, depending upon whatever one’s personal meaning of the words used happens be, along with the baseline agreement of the way things are, changing from person to person.
What do you get? Spend any time on an online forum, especially one populated by self-imagined intellectuals, and you will find utter chaos. No two people can exchange information on anything. Because each will claim that their logic is logic, and that anybody else’s is not, if it in any way disagrees with their own. This leads to a curious binary state of either ‘agree’ or ‘disagree’.
If one agrees with a statement, one does not challenge it, so its logic is taken to be sound.
If one disagrees with a statement, there ensues a battle to establish whose logic is more logical, or if it is even logic at all.
In this climate, it becomes impossible to actually get anywhere, since the logic that is the most popular is the one that prevails.
Should one actually know what one is talking about, which, in itself is a rare thing among people so lacking in real-world experience, one finds it is beyond the bounds of possibility to convey what one knows, to those who can merely theorize, without knowing, purely on the basis of their own flawed logic.
The most common flaw is the baseline assumption that everyone is equal. From there, everything else crumbles.
Another one is the assumption that there is no God, and religious people are insane, and thus valid targets for justifiable — often shockingly cruel — abuse.
Yet another, is that ‘nobody can know’ whatever it is that is presumed to be unknowable, so their statements can be ridiculed as delusion.
Along with the labeling of anyone with knowledge not known to the larger group, as a charlatan, fake, or egomaniac.
Logic, sadly, no longer has much to do with anything, and henceforth will be about as useless as mammary glands on a bull buffalo.
We have arrived at a point where it is no longer possible to ‘talk to people’ as a means of communicating anything much more complicated than the state of the weather. And even that may well fail. In fact, the only people one may successfully communicate with, in any satisfactory way, are those few people one may meet that already hold views, or knowledge, substantially similar to oneself.
The really, really terrifying thing about all of this, is that only older people will have a comparison to make, regarding just how far this decay has gone. The young, having no such comparison to make, have no idea anything is even wrong. They can — to an astonishing degree — no longer listen, deduce, reason, think, or learn, except in rare cases where their own particular brand of rebellion happens to mesh with the fast-disappearing tradition of civilization.
And older people, apart from being not-listened-to by the young, and often ridiculed, instead, are inevitably dying out, and so are ever less able to contribute anything that might slow, or reverse the coming dissolution.
A woman said to me once, imagining me as a man of violence, that: “You can always talk to people, you know”.
It wasn’t particularly true, even then. It is very, very much less true now.