We are going to separate because diversity is a miserable failure. #WhatIfAltHist addresses this in an interesting intellectual exercise. Let’s hope for the lowest impact version because the heaped skulls of my enemies just wouldn’t mesh well with the carefully tended herbaceous borders (but might make an appealing “man cave”).
Assuming that it doesn’t go Mad-Max, than places like Amerika.org will remain the front lines of the coming separation. I’ve personally helped test military weaponry and figured out how much some of it really costs. Therefore, I am fundamentally more pacifist than many of my Alt-Right peers. I tend to hope we can separate peaceably based upon a legal and social restoration of Freedom of Association. The Rightists and the Leftists, meet, break bread, discuss amongst themselves and realize that they totally can’t bloody stand one another. Being mature adults, they therefore both #WalkAway.
Does it have to be that bad? Can we really not just along? I dunno. Just ask Stephen King. This is what happened to the Trotskyite who tried to come in from the cold.
“Like Saturn, the Revolution devours its children.” Currently though the left is busy consuming its own parents. The boomer lefties who support it keep finding out that sooner or later, the lunatics they’ve been cheering on will come after them and start shouting about their privilege. Stephen King, one of the more obnoxiously lefty celebs whose writing skills had deserted him years ago, tried to suggest a ceasefire for the Fourth. “Progressives, go find a Trump supporting friend — the one you haven’t spoken to since November of 2016 — and give him or her a hug. Trumpies, find a “liberal snowflake” friend and do the same. Just for today, let’s all be Americans.”
It wasn’t the Dawning of some Purple State, Centrist Age of Aquarius.
It’s a nice enough sentiment. It wouldn’t have been all that extraordinary a generation ago. But this time around it unleashed a howling mob of lefties lecturing King about his “privilege” and putting out the usual twaddle about how Trump’s very existence is endangering their lives. Or the lives of all the oppressed people they know. King came back the usual lefty virtue signaling defense. “Responses to my 4th of July tweet suggest that politically-minded Americans aren’t willing to drop their grudges and talking points for even a single day. If Russia isn’t paying Trump, they should start, because he’s doing a helluva job of dividing us.”
Contra John Lennon: War isn’t over, if just you want it. The other dudes get a vote. Hugs do not a nation make. The other side took to Twitter after King invited them to hug it out and voted for King to go get butt-fornicated by his funky horror clown. Trump isn’t dividing us, Stevo. Diversity and socialism are doing to us what they did to the CCCP. So could there be violent civil war in Amerika? Could the Left and Right throw down in a Texas Death match? Many voices out there answer that question by simply urging you to prepare, and the sales of bomb shelter yearlong food supplies at Costco are going through the roof.
If it’s going sideways you need to prepare you. We’ll start with a diagnostic exam. You go to the local Middle School football field. Limber up with fifty jumping jacks, fifty push-ups and fifty dead cockroaches. After some stretches the sprints begin. Run from one sideline to the next, touch dirt and sprint back. Do this ten times. At this point we’ll line up in one end zone, sprint to the fifty, knock out twenty. Then back again, kiss ‘Bama earth twenty times. Run back to the forty, knock-out twenty. Return. Do twenty more. Then the thirty, then the twenty, and then the ten. That’s the good old 200 push-up suicide. If you haven’t puked yet, jog a lap around the track to catch your breath then repeat all the sprint work I just recommended above.
OK. Back to reality. The last time I could get through a second repetition of that sprint work was about fifteen years ago while I still indulged in maybe fifteen competitive rugby matches a year (counting sevens). If I still could, I’d feel somewhat optimistic about my basic rifle marksmanship after about three hours of close combat. People yelling about a desire for war had better get themselves at least as based as the stickman. I haven’t mentioned the roadwork involving the backpack, the Red Hawks and several twenty-five pounds weights. When’s the last ten mile road march you went on, and how much were you carrying? I’m not saying there won’t be Civil War II. I am saying that I and probably most of you as are not even close to being in any sort of shape to survive it by anything other than stupid, blind luck.
I appreciate your patience with my somewhat off-putting tone today. I’ll make one more suggestion that I think could be the best preparation for Civil War II that is possible. Let’s prevent it from happening. Let’s pre-emptively separate from one another. Let’s agitate to change the laws and cultural mores that tie us together against our wills. Good fences make good neighbors. We all go to our separate spaces where we are appreciated, not merely tolerated through gritted teeth. Distance defuses antipathy. Freedom of Association is the real key to letting us all #Walkaway. That wouldn’t require anyone to do suicides, 200 push-up or otherwise…