Posts Tagged ‘downfall’

The Romance Has Died

Monday, June 27th, 2016


Trying to think about what happened in 2015 that caused what feels like a seismic shift in the layer below politics. People are less likely to be OK with follow-the-leader and imitate the dominant paradigm, and now are intensely critical, restless, uncertain and enraged, which form a thin but vivid layer covering a vast sleeping hope.

What happened? My answer: the romance died. For years we (culturally) saw modernity as exciting and having a possibility of greatness for our lives. From noir fiction to gangsta rap, we idealized the dysfunction as a chance for us to prove ourselves, to struggle against a new frontier, and to emerge refined by the crucible of adversity as a higher level of human beings.

I think what did it, more than anything else, were the images of SJWs. Everyone wants to discuss heady thinker with a pioneering, brilliant and attractive thinker, but what we saw instead were the pretentious lumpenproletariat that had learned to make its way through “education” by parroting and restating known theory. They were fat, tattooed, inarticulate, pointlessly angry, and most of all, ugly. The romance died when we saw the end result of modernity: alienated, frustrated people repeating dogma as if it would fill the holes in their souls. These were not life’s winners, but its losers, compensating for that fact with power and authority. In short, these were the same dimwits who ran the Soviet Union into the ground: obedient tools with an inner instability that propelled them forward through need.

At the same time, Western citizens woke up to find the house on fire. Infrastructure was collapsing; at every level of leadership, in both private and public spheres, those in charge seemed vastly incompetent and uninformed about every important issue, but capable of delivering a nagging nanny finger-wagging lecture about ideology at every turn. Our leaders knew how to tell us that terrorism would not threaten our democracy, but could not get a glove on the problem itself. And so people turned away.

In the past, from West Side Story and Great Expectations through The Sun Also Rises, decay had a certain nobility to it, and the promise of license like a Saturday night during your sophomore year of college. Anything could happen; there were no rules! This promised sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the notion that new ideas waited around the corner which would disprove how everything worked and show us a new frontier. Chaos theory. Gender theory, multiculturalism. Primitivism. Psychedelia. And yet every one of these turned out to be a hollow (((echo))) of the dominant paradigm, equality, which just so happened to require a strong government and lots of these lumpy ugly experts to tell us how to live!

No one wanted to have big families anymore. People divorced because they never really knew each other, and when you know that you are the 139th person your spouse slept with, the sacred nature of marriage becomes a joke. Jobs stood revealed as 90% make-work and covering up for incompetence, and 10% that actually needed doing, but because in an egalitarian society everyone must find a reason — horizontal (hip, good, moral) and vertical (money, power, status) — to rise above equal, we needed more jobs, more titles and more specialized education programs with unique degrees. The whole thing was rotted not by the act of a political party, but from within, but its assumptions.

It reminds me of when we were kids and went out plinking with our .22s. We would get far enough from civilization to be safe, and then start blasting away, trying to find exciting objects to hit among the litter and detritus. But then, just as the shooting competition intensified, there would be a small sound of vast finality: ching!

The clip would be empty. It was, in the words of a friend, a kicked clip: like a can you would kick away when its purpose was done. We rarely had a whole lot of ammunition, and so each rifle had a ten-round clip, and when that firing pin fell on empty space with a tinny metallic clang, we knew the night was over. The fun was gone. It had happened, was past tense, and now what remained was to clean up the brass and head home.

Western civilization has become a kicked clip. People are miserable and their only refuge comes through foisting more misery onto others, so that the individual appears to be on top of the others. Families are crushed, and there are no traditions to live for, so we are merely chasing our own dreams. No shared values exist, so we must rely on individual judgments, feelings and desires to guide us, and these most commonly lead to circular patterns based on fascinations we have adopted as compensations for having direction, not as fulfillment of it. Our jobs make us zombies and our personal lives make us hollow, and yet it is never discussed, so we all suffer in silence.

We could put these feelings aside for exciting collapse. When it seemed like a great storm was hitting, and all would be washed away and we could start again, we loved modernity… because we hated it. We hate living in it and so its only culmination is destruction, so that we can invent something new again, but no one knows what that is. The assumptions we must adopt to function in this society render us unable to visualize anything else.

With this, the dark noir dreams, the sci-fi hopes, and the gangsta fantasies fade away. They are like anything else in a world dominated by commerce and trends: a thin layer of advertising designed to baffle our minds with pleasant images, and underneath it, a vast reservoir of entropy and repetition. The dream was a lie. It took a long time, but now it has become visible as a lie, and even worse, a boring like much like that of the Soviets: a future living in grey concrete condominiums in rotted cities, slaving away in jobs doing nothing of importance in order to avoid being destroyed, while pollution and overpopulation and incompetence rise around us like a Biblical flood.1

All of the fascinations died out. Marijuana proved not to be the stargate to deep immensity of understanding the universe, but a one-way ticket to the couch and first-person shooters until our eyes fell out from boredom and we ate another slice of pizza just to knock ourselves out. Free love ended up being prostitution, which meant that when it was time to consider love or family, all that was left were rough-living washed-up whores. Rock ‘n’ roll turned into a farce, and died when black metal one-upped it permanently. The Beatles and Led Zeppelin cannot compete with dark mysticism, stashed explosives and the inversion of rock ‘n’ roll itself, a flirtation with Darwinistic and Nietzschean naturalistic fascism. Rock died like the rest of the dream.

What remains is the endless hangover: every day about like the others, leading to retirement in which we attempt to rationalize having wasted the best hours of our lives doing nothing of importance, and an utter powerlessness. When we cannot do good by social standards, and be recognized for having done so, all of our acts are empty. We serve our self-interest, but even self-interest demands more… a hint of meaning, of mystery, of hope and the unknowable. All of these were crushed and replaced with Soviet-style rituals of excess in which each generation repeated the last, and found that its rebellion led it to be an even greater affirmation of the dominant herd idea than the generation before.

The romance died. The modern life is a kicked clip. There is nothing here for the inner parts of the individual that seek purpose, discovery and truth. All that we find is more of the same human jive, like crowds at the shopping mall or people at the grocery store who cannot return the carts ten feet from their parked cars: selfishness, denial, stupidity, oblivion and mediocrity. Awakening from this dream turned sour, we need new adventures, and these will only come through the great storm that tears apart modernity and restarts society in a method that can possess a goal, values and some truths of a non-temporal — eternal — nature.

1 — or Plato’s “streams from the heavens.” If you mix up the Bhagavad-Gita, the Odyssey, The Republic and the Eddas and simplify, you get the Bible.

The Death of “Exit”

Friday, May 27th, 2016


Yesterday in Paris, France the concept of exit died on the floor of the Google headquarters. Leftists worldwide have realized how wealthy the technology sector is and they want their money so they can pay for the bennies that keep the citizens complacent and stupid:

A dawn raid was launched on Google’s office in Paris yesterday as part of a probe into ‘aggravated tax fraud’ and money laundering.

Around 100 police officers, five magistrates, 25 computer experts and about 100 tax officials entered the US internet giant’s premises at 5am as France ramped up its efforts to clamp down on alleged tax evasion.

Google is accused of owing the French government £1.2billion in unpaid taxes.

While Google is arrogant enough to hide its money however possible, let us be honest: this is a shakedown. If you have the money, Leftist government will take it because all of the voters want it. Leftism creates a perpetual cycle of not having enough and working too much, and this makes workers angry at anyone who is not in that condition. These shakedowns are frequent and eventually kill off industry so that the Leftist cancer can enter its final phase.

The reason that the concept of “exit” died is that a principle has been formalized: if you have money, They will come to take it from you.

The notion of fairness in laws or some kind of reason existing behind the whole process is fallacy. The French have creatively interpreted their laws, which democratic societies produce in vague abundance, to legitimize the theft of money from Google (who creatively interpreted tax and accounting codes for the opposite purpose). This is what Governments do. They also wage war.

Most “collapse” scenarios are like most human thinking, linear and binary. Suddenly there is a huge SNAP! and society just falls apart, leaving a smouldering ruin through which starvation-crazed people wander. In reality, collapse is like Brazil: a society slowly fades away into third world levels of hygiene, wealth and order. It never really fails, it just becomes useless, kind of like ancient Greece and Rome.

When an empire dies, you are left with vast monuments in front of which illiterate peasants squat to defecate. Brazil is in approximately that condition now. This does not mean an absence of government however, nor the more important problem caused by herd mobilization. In every society, the people create the government. When the herd needs money or fears the competition from an exit-stage, politicians arise who will promise to take action.

This creates the They mentioned above: a vast and desperate herd, needy for plunder, and its enablers — who also have a motive of corruption themselves. The enablers will in fact work both coming and going by taking protection money from businesses, and then confiscating a few to demonstrate their power and keep the rest in line. And when the herd calls for Google’s head? Then government will do whatever it has to in order to generate a pretext for seizure.

Not surprisingly, Silicon Valley will react with evasion as it is already doing in response to government demands that it decrypt its customers’ data:

In Silicon Valley, there’s a new emphasis on putting up barriers to government requests for data. The Apple-FBI case and its aftermath have tech firms racing to employ a variety of tools that would place customer information beyond the reach of a government-ordered search.

The trend is a striking reversal of a long-standing article of faith in the data-hungry tech industry, where companies including Google and the latest start-ups have predicated success on the ability to hoover up as much information as possible about consumers.

Now, some large tech firms are increasingly offering services to consumers that rely far less on collecting data.

Tech companies have already figured out that against governments, especially third world regimes, they cannot win. The internet exists in its wires, switches and servers, and all of those are located in the physical world, and can be controlled. Markets can be closed.

If we had a true Terminator-style collapse of civilization that was nice and crisp and binary, this would not be a problem as people could set up a bootleg internet and keep it running with energy generated from flatulence or something. But in Brazil, there is still government… corrupt, incompetent, and slow, but still able to feed itself.

The anarchist fantasy turns out to be far from the reality (although it sounds cool):

Night City was like a deranged experiment in social Darwinism, designed by a bored researcher who kept one thumb permanently on the fast-forward button. Stop hustling and you sank without a trace, but move a little too swiftly and you’d break the fragile surface tension of the black market; either way, you were gone, with nothing left of you but some vague memory in the mind of a fixture like Ratz, though heart or lungs or kidneys might survive in the service of some stranger with New Yen for the clinic tanks.

Biz here was a constant subliminal hum, and death the accepted punishment for laziness, carelessness, lack of grace, the failure to heed the demands of an intricate protocol.

Alone at a table in the Jarre de Thé, with the octagon coming on, pinheads of sweat starting from his palms, suddenly aware of each tingling hair on his arms and chest, Case knew that at some point he’d started to play a game with himself, a very ancient one that has no name, a final solitaire. He no longer carried a weapon, no longer took the basic precautions. He ran the fastest, loosest deals on the street, and he had a reputation for being able to get whatever you wanted. A part of him knew that the arc of his self-destruction was glaringly obvious to his customers, who grew steadily fewer, but that same part of him basked in the knowledge that it was only a matter of time. — William Gibson, Neuromancer

Human illusions always favor solidly defined and rigidly delineated events instead of the gradualism with which natural events occur. Decay is a natural event, since it is not deliberate like a human command, but the result of human actions in the world and the consequences created by those. This often resembles a “conspiracy of details,” with humans accomplishing their goal but experiencing unintended results as well.

For this reason, the concept of “exit” has died: there is no way out of a dying civilization except to overthrow the parasite (the government, the elites, and the less-than-honorable portion of its populace) and deport it, then set up a more sensible social order. This is why the wisdom of our forebears was always to stand and fight rather than try to escape, because in the end, there is no escape from the consequences of our actions, whether individual or collective.

Mayday, Mayday! USA Is Going Down.

Tuesday, May 3rd, 2016


You know your society is blithely passing into a twilight state when open advocates of one of history’s most pernicious notions are not just tolerated, but encouraged, by your elites. We now have open war on our streets, reminiscent of the 1992 LA riots, and the perpetrators fully admit their affiliation:

Around the world, union members have traditionally marched on May 1 for workers’ rights. In the United States, the annual events have become a rallying point for immigrants and their supporters since massive demonstrations in 2006 against a proposed immigration enforcement bill.

…About 300 people, including members of the International Longshore & Warehouse Union, held signs that read “Long Live May Day” and “Stop Police Terror,” and chanted “No Justice No Peace! No Racist Police!”

…Meanwhile, social justice advocates in Durham, New Hampshire, made the rejection of racism, xenophobia and anti-Muslim sentiment the themes of their annual rally.

Oh, so it’s a union holiday. Is that the full story, Amerikan media? Let’s go to the source:

At this time, socialism was a new and attractive idea to working people, many of whom were drawn to its ideology of working class control over the production and distribution of all goods and services. Workers had seen first-hand that Capitalism benefited only their bosses, trading workers’ lives for profit.

…A variety of socialist organizations sprung up throughout the later half of the 19th century, ranging from political parties to choir groups. In fact, many socialists were elected into governmental office by their constituency. But again, many of these socialists were ham-strung by the political process which was so evidently controlled by big business and the bi-partisan political machine. Tens of thousands of socialists broke ranks from their parties, rebuffed the entire political process, which was seen as nothing more than protection for the wealthy, and created anarchist groups throughout the country. Literally thousands of working people embraced the ideals of anarchism, which sought to put an end to all hierarchical structures (including government), emphasized worker controlled industry, and valued direct action over the bureaucratic political process. It is inaccurate to say that labor unions were “taken over” by anarchists and socialists, but rather anarchists and socialist made up the labor unions.

…On May 1, 1886, more than 300,000 workers in 13,000 businesses across the United States walked off their jobs in the first May Day celebration in history. In Chicago, the epicenter for the 8-hour day agitators, 40,000 went out on strike with the anarchists in the forefront of the public’s eye. With their fiery speeches and revolutionary ideology of direct action, anarchists and anarchism became respected and embraced by the working people and despised by the capitalists.

…Immediately after the Haymarket Massacre, big business and government conducted what some say was the very first “Red Scare” in this country. Spun by mainstream media, anarchism became synonymous with bomb throwing and socialism became un-American. The common image of an anarchist became a bearded, eastern European immigrant with a bomb in one hand and a dagger in the other.

…Today we see tens of thousands of activists embracing the ideals of the Haymarket Martyrs and those who established May Day as an International Workers’ Day. Ironically, May Day is an official holiday in 66 countries and unofficially celebrated in many more, but rarely is it recognized in this country where it began.

However, the above is also a bit spun in favor of its own side, which tends to use the term “socialist” for “Communist.” On Amerika, we recognize that all varieties of liberalism differ in degree only; a moderate Democrat is merely a Communist who has not yet become fully radicalized. A more accurate account of May Day follows:

This was the traditional day in the Soviet Union and the communist bloc countries for massive parades, replete with missiles, tanks, rank upon rank of goose-stepping troops, red flags, and huge posters of Marx and Lenin. This has not changed in countries that are still officially communist, such as China, North Korea, Cuba, and Vietnam. In non-communist countries of the world, the communist and socialist parties have continued to hold May Day celebrations, usually under the banner of International Workers Solidarity Day.

According to The Great Soviet Encyclopedia, communist countries and communist parties celebrate May Day “by mobilizing the working people in the struggle to build socialism and communism.” The same source goes on to report: “On May Day the working people of the Soviet Union show their solidarity with the revolutionary struggles of the working people in capitalist countries and with national liberation movements. They express their determination to use all their power for the struggle for peace and building of a communist society.”

…”The decision to make May 1st a day of annual demonstrations,” says The Great Soviet Encyclopedia, “was made in July 1889 by the Paris Congress of the Second International, to commemorate an action by the workers of Chicago, who organized a strike for May 1, 1886, demanding an eight-hour workday, and held a demonstration that ended in a bloody confrontation with the police.”

We see the same game being played today. The protesters say they are from unions, feminist and anti-racist organizations, but what this really means is Communism. That is not surprising, since in addition to being in bed with organized crime, unions have always been in bed with the Communists.

Let us make this clear:

  • Unions = Communism
  • Anti-Racism = Communism
  • .: Diversity = Communism

All of this is evident from a mildly critical reading of the original article cited in this post, as would have been done by a newspaper reader of the past century. Today’s reader, blighted by a mind stuffed with television, social media and pointless red tape, may be unable to parse it so I type it out for their convenience.

Communism, in addition to killing approximately a hundred million people in the last century, made wastelands out of every land it has occupied. It transfers the wealth of a nation to a few people who are in bed with organized crime, and then kills off anyone smart so it can remain in power, then collapses when the resulting society becomes totally dysfunctional, as it was obvious it would.

Any time Communism is openly tolerated around you, you should be screaming out a different kind of May Day: a distress call. Your nation is packing it in, going down in flames, and sinking faster than the Titanic. There are no lifeboats, so get ready to stand your ground.

Winter Is Coming Part I – What is an SHTF Event

Thursday, April 28th, 2016


I’ve borrowed a motif from a large, obnoxious Leftist slob. Not the one from Flint MI, but rather George R. R. Martin instead. It is his motto for House Stark from his Song of Fire and Ice novels.

Winter is Coming!

As society in America declines and grows worse, this meme of coming troubles fits our time too well for me to quibble over Martin’s Maoist political beliefs. The meme fits what is happening regardless of whether he ever finishes his septology of novels or not.

Since winter seems to be coming, getting ready may seem like a logical consequentialist strategy. Therefore I hope to embark on what will be a logical intelligent discussion of disaster preparation before the early frost kills our herbaceous borders. Today I offer part I, “What is a SHTF Event?”

When people think of prepping or planning for SHTF, there is a stupid, popular tendency to just assume these are morons who have spent too many hours playing Fallout on their PC and are just LARPING their (((end of days))) fantasies. This is inaccurate. SHTF events occur every year in several places around the globe. They also occur in scales of calamity. Prepping on at least some level is a wise and beneficial decision I would commend to all of you.

As America morphs into Amerika, SHTF events will continue at the same rate they occurred before the decline set in. There will be no more SHTF events and no fewer. The difference between these events occurring in America; as opposed to Amerika, is the extent to which you will be on your own as society continues its selfish degeneration into solipsistic crowdism. Hurricane Katrina, The Alabama Tornado Spree of 2011 and the Eruption of Mt. Saint Helens were all three SHTF events of varying magnitude that would have befallen people in the contiguous 48 states regardless of how well or poorly our society functioned.

The impacts on society differed. Hurricane Katrina was the worst of the three for two reasons. It struck a dense population. That population’s leadership and government on every level performed execrably. The Mayor delayed ordering evacuation until 24 hours before the storm hit. If you’ve ever been on the I-10 Bridge heading west the morning after a big party, you know that was the wrong call. So a city so shot through with corruption that a good chunk of its police force couldn’t be bothered to show up for duty and even looted a Walmart during the storm, left an awful lot of its people to quite literally sink or swim.

The Alabama Tornado Outbreak was also tragic, but less a disaster. The local governments responding were hampered by a lack of resources and pre-planning. Many public officials throughout Alabama could be justifiably criticized in that regard.

However, they didn’t loot any Walmarts and nobody on the Tuscaloosa police force deserted in the aftermath of the F5 that ripped through the downtown. There were one to two week aftermaths in places all over Alabama where the power was out and roads were blocked for miles. One advantage Alabama had over New Orleans was that volunteers came in waves to saw the roads clear and clean up the debris.

The point being, that places where order breaks down and the community is disinterested in mutual assistance will suffer a far worse fate from a SHTF event than places where people are being turned away as volunteers because there isn’t enough food to feed them or equipment to put them all to work in a gainful fashion. So as society degenerates, it is less and less unintelligent to prep for at least some form of SHTF event.

The worse our culture becomes, the more you will be on your own to look after yourself, your family and the people you care about. Let’s first address what you prepare for. SHTF events can be measure on the Bi-dimensional Feke Scale* from F1 to F5 depending upon length and severity. The scale is shown below.


The Length Scale addresses the length of time normal society is disrupted by the event. F1 events are acute, non-recurring events that hit and then move on. F2 and F3 events occur for progressively longer time scales and require greater preparation or outside help to survive. F4 events probably cannot be survived without prior preparation and will significantly impact the culture and history of an area from the time length of social disruption alone. F5 SHTF events are historical milestones that are burned into cultural memory. Think WWI, WWII and the Great Depression. For much of Europe, the time span from 1936 to 1950 could be viewed as a F5 Length SHTF Event.

The Severity Scale attempts to categorize how wide spread the fertilizer becomes once it blows off the oscillating rotary device. F1 events impact the vicinity around you. F2 events take out/ take down entire local regions. F3 events reduce us to maybe 48 or 49 states instead of 50 for a while. F4 events hammer an entire nation or continent while F5 events impact the entire globe.

An F(1,1) would be a major storm or tornado that damages houses and threatens lives but then blows away. The Alabama Tornado Outbreak of 2011 would be about an F(2,3). It killed 300 people and knocked the power grid out, but was over in 3 weeks and never posed an existential threat to life and limb once the storms subsided. Katrina could go up to F(3,3). The Yellowstone Caldera blowing up would rate F(4,4) or F(5,4). The thermonuclear Shoah-Jobs portrayed in A Canticle For Leibowitz or On The Beach would score F(5,5).

Thus, an SHTF event involves some form of major natural or manmade disaster that causes destruction, loss of life and a breakdown of social order. These can classified using a standard risk cube scaled from 1 to 5. The two axis of SHTF can be Length and Severity. The length axis measures for how long social order is disrupted, the severity axis measures how wide of an area will be torn up or non-functional. In the next piece I’ll discuss some of the types of SHTF events that may occur in “Winter Is Coming Part II – Classifying SHTF Events By Type.”

*-I made this up. So sue me.

The enemy is within

Wednesday, January 6th, 2016


Humanity resembles a wide-open plain with a few mountains poking above the relatively consistent but not uniform grasses and scrub brush. From those high places, much can be seen, but most ignore them, since their concerns lie in the nice equally short bushes.

One of the mountaintops came to us from Jamaican-American thinker Marcus Garvey who, as a nationalist and integralist, intuited that no tribe can coexist with others, even geographically, because they will then be inherently in conflict and will use each other as scapegoats. He spoke of a condition called fatalism to describe those who find such long-term goals inconvenient and prefer the “pragmatic” short-term goals that end in certain (but delayed) failure:

Some of us seem to accept the fatalist position, the fatalist attitude, that God accorded to us a certain position and condition, and therefore there is no need trying to be otherwise. The moment you accept such an attitude, the moment you accept such an opinion, the moment you harbor such an idea, you hurl an insult at the great God who created you, because you question Him for His love; you question Him for His mercy.
― Marcus Garvey, Selected Writings and Speeches of Marcus Garvey

Fatalism takes many forms; the simplest occurs when people decide that their choices have no impact. They look at a much larger structure above them and induce in themselves the belief that what they do has no relevance because it is smaller in scale. They are both right and wrong.

The individual cannot have direct effect on the scope at which the mountain exists. We cannot, as individuals, kick out our feet and level the mountain. And yet, our choices have consequences. They influence others, and push back against certain ideas, which is where they are most effective. By driving out delusional ideas, we can not only subvert the mountain but change its fundamental nature. We also stop the spread of those delusional ideas by not passing them on to others as if they were true.

The biggest impediment to us having effect is not others, but ourselves. Humans are half-computer, half-monkey, and since the monkey half is simpler it is what we default to as we mature. Any human who wants to have an effect on the world must first grow past his monkey, and then defeat the various illusions that inherent to the early stages of thinking about an issue.

What follows is not popular, because it affirms the idea of us conquering ourselves instead of choosing an external option — God, democracy, drugs, love, money — that will do it for us. This is the philosophical version of the old joke: a traveler rolls down his window and asks a man on the curb, “Do you know how to get to Carnegie Hall?” to which the cynical bystander replies, Practice!

Indeed: analysis does not happen without practice. If you are stepping onto the floor with philosophical, political or social issues, analysis is what you are doing and the only method by which you will succeed. Sometimes called critical thinking, before the 1968ers ruined that term, analysis refers to the act of logically breaking down a problem, figuring out how it works, and then testing the solution as a whole to see what is a sensible answer.

Most people — about 80% — are biologically incapable of this level of thinking, and most of the remaining 20% are either too immature, too obsessive or too dishonest to do it. It falls to about 1% of the population who are both capable and of the moral character to make themselves receptive to the process. This is why almost everything in society is blockheaded: most people can repeat what succeeded for others, but not understand why, which creates an insect pathology of repetition which ignores context and situation.

If you are wondering why the internet is awash in conspiracy theories, liberals and white nationalists, the reason lies above. People are incapable of the analysis necessary and so they default to monkey behaviors like scapegoating, group identity, victimhood/revenge and projection. These theories are in fact the most popular because they are understood by the most, and people recognize truth up to their cognitive limits and assume anything above that is voodoo or a typing error.

On the right, for example, there are those who blame The Jew™ or The Negro™ while on the left they blame White Men or The Rich™ apparently without realizing the irony of “We’re the victims, so let’s victimize someone else!” In fact, this pattern repeats in both monkey tribes and human groups, which is that any party which is failing or troubled will immediately seek out a weaker party to clobber, raising its own group status to having someone to bully.

We need to turn to our logical side and point the finger where it belongs: at democracy, altruism, equality, tolerance and other illusions which cause civilization collapse. These are the cause of our decline, and we know this both through history and through the logical fact that if we remove them, our society rises out of its misery and neurosis.

This requires us to be mature and accept that we did this to ourselves. We made a bad choice, basing it on what flattered us emotionally instead of what was obviously true, and since then our society has thrashed in helpless decline. We hide that decline behind wealth, prestige and the even greater incompetence of other societies, but the mirth and power has left us. We are falling.

Why are our leaders so bad? They are chosen by voters, and (1) most people cannot make this decision with any realistic basis and (2) in groups, humans choose compromises that make the group happy instead of addressing complex real-world issues. We The People™ chose these leaders. Even if the media, entertainment and intellectuals misled us, we pulled the levers and made the choice when we should have known better to be capable of making those decisions.

Why do we suffer under degeneracy, diversity and relativism? Once you start with an idea like “equality,” the assumption that people are equal means that in every situation where someone fails, there is a scapegoat. People always blame those with higher standards for the failings of those with lower standards. Through this process, a rule of having no standards spreads through all of society.

Why is our society incompetent? We insist on altruism, which measures external characteristics like obedience through schooling and attendance, and ignore internal ones like character and intellectual traits. As a result, we promote the shallowest people for having the “right” ideology and then watch them flounder when confronted with complex problems off the beaten track.

Is the problem Jews, Africans, or even whites? Much more complex, and yet simpler: the problem is an idea. This idea flatters us. It says we are all equal. This causes us to act mechanically and treat all people as identical cogs in a big machine, which in turn much like Communism robs them of their will toward excellence, doing good and planning toward the long term.

Democracy misleads us. In the name of a kind of pacifism — the idea that we can control others by considering them “equal” — we have made our society into hell. Under the surface, it is a miserable place. People act with a “committee mindset,” taking no unpopular risks to affirm what is right, and we enable millions of parasites to take from the good. Until we fix this outlook, everything else is just a scapegoat, which is why we have failed to reverse our decline so far.

Liberalism self-destructs

Monday, November 2nd, 2015


Across the West, liberal policies are creating the opposite of what the voters were told they would do. As a result, liberalism is self-immolating with all the grace of the fall of the Soviet Union or the end of the Napoleonic regime.

In Europe, the citizens voted enthusiastically for policies like multiculturalism which were promised to end the wars of the past and redeem Europe. Instead, they have made Europe the sap of the world where every grifter goes to get the free benefits, welfare and indulgence of the tolerant nanny state.

Finally, even the New York Times is reporting the grim truth: diversity is ethnic replacement of Europeans. Their grand liberal plans lead to suicide:

In early October, the district government informed Sumte’s mayor, Christian Fabel, by email that his village of 102 people just over the border in what was once Communist East Germany would take in 1,000 asylum seekers.

…Germans face “the destruction of our genetic heritage” and risk becoming “a gray mishmash,” Mr. Niemann added, predicting that public anxiety over Ms. Merkel’s open-armed welcome to refugees would help demolish a postwar political consensus in Germany built on moderation and compromise.

You would have to be smoking crack to think that diversity could ever work. Two groups cannot occupy the same space without destroying one another. In the meantime, they guarantee a society permanently divided and focused more on struggle within itself than struggle to accomplish anything outside of itself.

Government delighted in this idea because it gave government new power. To make anything happen, they only had to argue that it was good for diversity and tolerance. This created a permanent mega-state which wants to administer all areas of our lives in what would be called “totalitarianism” if we were not brainwashed to never consider that word.

European leaders — especially the autocrat bureaucrats of the European Union — delighted in this plan because it created permanent employment for them, and allowed them to micromanage the citizens to avoid the dangerous flare-ups that triggered the last two world wars. Note the term “triggered” instead of “caused”: the real causes remain exactly the same, which is the orgy of power-hunger that liberalism unleashed across Europe starting with the Revolution of 1789.

In the United States, the same effect is being achieved by Democratic politicians who are scrambling to import as many third-world people as they can, knowing that these will vote leftist forever as that is what they did in their home countries. Government does not care if it destroys the ethnic population of its lands, because government depends on voters and dollars.

Like other liberal policies that will end in tears as the new Occupants earn less and take more, having come from cultures and genetically-entrenched mindsets of this nature. But liberal governments have shown themselves united in a single attribute, which is a total inability to predict the consequences of their actions. Liberal voters seemingly join them in this by approving plan after plan with no basis in reality.

All of these grand plans are collapsing at once in multiple ways. The governments of Europe and the United States are broke and dependent on selling their own loans as their currencies plummet in value; they can never pay their obligations to their own citizens, much less their insane pension debts. Crime is rising and our ability to suppress it failing; diversity is detonating in the same way it did in the 1860s, 1920s, and 1960s; corruption of our government by moneyed interests increases and public services decline, while the dollar and euro steadily leak value.

Liberalism is self-destructing as we sit here but liberals are so far invested in the idea of enforcing ideology that they have noticed, and moderate through right-wing voters find themselves in the unenviable position of being targeted as ideological enemies of the left. As with most civilizations that collapse, the end will be a surprise to anyone who is vested within the system, but to no one else.

White Noise, by Don DeLillo (1985)

Tuesday, July 7th, 2015


White Noise
by Don DeLillo
Penguin, 326 pages, $11

Reviews of postmodern novels present a problem because the postmodern novel, which quotes freely from mainstream fiction genres and wraps them around a metaphorical core, builds itself outward from setting more than character to the point where revealing too much about the setting is to reveal the plot. The characters are generally like occupants on a fast-moving train, watching the changing setting outside the window and rarely able to take any action except periodically have extreme responses when the absurdity peaks.

White Noise entered American consciousness in 1985 and accurately reflected how Western civilization saw itself at the time: going through the motions, unsatisfied and empty, in fear of death constantly because of the purposelessness of it all, and trying to distract from that fact. The thesis of this novel might be summarized as “the self-conscious society dedicates itself to death,” and that phrase could also serve as a handy epitaph for the West. Throughout the book, characters navigate a web of rules — both official and social, but mostly damaging where values have become rules — which have converted life from a process of having a goal, to an endurance test of reacting to a civilization dedicated to social engineering removed from life itself. Characters know what they ought to be doing not on a moral level, but on a social level, as they try to have lives that others would admire. They also know how to succeed by manipulating The System and that also defines what they must do, but they have no heart in it. Hilariously, the most human scenes in this book occur when people are shopping, which from what I remember of 1985 America is pretty much spot-on accurate.

The book centers around a professor, Jack Gladney, who is the leading expert in Hitler Studies, a genre of academia he conjured up that has since become popular. As he struggles with the emptiness and sublimated fear of suburban existence, a chemical spill near his town forces its evacuation. This provides him with a backdrop for analysis of death and its relationship to the self-conscious society — that which critiques, analyzes and compares itself as itself instead of relative to some external goal, like natural law or reality at large — through the highly artificed characters of his wife and children. As in most postmodern novels, characters are “larger than life” or transparently symbolic in their attributes and roles, and his family provide most of this contrast within the book. Frequently these characters discuss death and meaning in life with the gravity of philosophers, using the consciousness of itself in the postmodern novel to allow characters to be both transparent and viable. Gladney illustrates the point of the novel in an accidental thesis statement:

When the showing ended, someone asked about the plot to kill Hitler. The discussion moved to plots in general. I found myself saying to the assembled heads, “All plots tend to move deathward. This is the nature of plots. Political plots, terrorist plots, lovers’ plots, narrative plots, plots that are part of children’s games. We edge nearer death every time we plot. It is like a contract that all must sign, the plotters as well as those who are the targets of the plot.”

Is this true? Why did I say it? What does it mean? (26)

Plots factor heavily into the narrative of the book because both shadowy government forces and individual characters constantly hide information from each other for manipulative purposes, or plots. They justify these events with “good” moral-sounding ideas but ultimately are scheming to control, and through control to have power over death by driving out any thoughts except that their lives and careers are excellent. As a result, no character speaks honestly except when in philosopher-mode, and then most of the comments are speculative as with the above. As the family evacuates from one location to another, trying to avoid the mysterious cloud of industrial waste that hovers above the city, they are left in a void of clarity created by the plots of government and corporations as well as their fellow citizens. In addition, they start to see how in their own lives they have plotted around meaning and actual connection to existence, and instead have become symbolic in what they do even if they find it meaningless. If the disaster reveals anything, it is that most of what people do is indeed unnecessary and can be suspended, but that they have no idea how to fill their own time. This outlook proved prescient over the next three decades. In addition, DeLillo observes — through his characters — some flavors of reality that readers of this blog might enjoy:

“How familiar this all seems, how close to ordinary. Crowds come, get worked up, touch and press — people eager to be transported. Isn’t this ordinary? We know all this. there must have been something different about those crowds. what was it? Let me whisper the terrible word, from the Old English, from the Old German, from the Old Norse. Death. Many of those crowds were assembled in the name of death. they were there to attend tributes to the dead…Crowds came to form a shield against their own dying. To become a crowd is to keep out death. To break off from the crowd is to risk death as an individual, to face dying alone. Crowds came for this reason above all others. They were there to be a crowd.” (73)

The crowd to which they belong has assembled itself on the basis of altruism, or the use of gift-giving from commerce to unify itself as a control mechanism (84). Gladney however cannot acclimate to this life because it is fundamentally a tool in search of a purpose, and unlike the crowds described, does not acknowledge death but attempts to hide it. He sees much of his own life revealed as pointless during the evacuation and subsequent events, and this puts him on a new quest which involves suppressing his fear of death. That in turn brings the book to a revelatory finish in which he uncovers the nature of plots, which is — in classic postmodern form, derived entirely from Nietzsche’s On Truth and Lies in a Non-moral Sense — that symbols have replaced reality and in turn, have replaced our ability to have honest intent with constant manipulation, neurosis and control:

The drug not only caused the user to confuse words with the things they referred to; it made him act in a somewhat stylized way…The precise nature of events. Things in their actual state. Eventually he worked himself out of the deep fold, rising nicely, sharply outlined against the busy air. White noise everywhere. (310)

Here is why I get off the Don DeLillo train and call the above out as nonsense: our problem is not symbol replacing reality, but appearance replacing reality because in our egotistic altruism of equality, we have made reality-study taboo and replaced it with what the Crowd thinks. Nietzsche described the mechanism of this happening, which is that the egalitarian surge of the enlightenment changed the definition of symbols and values, forcing their re-evaluation according to their purpose and not our moral consideration of them. Popular opinion translated that into blame of the symbols themselves, since we cannot blame ourselves and admit the failure of the People’s Revolution, so we blame our tools like every lazy and inept laborer since the inception of time. Seeing this sentiment at the core of an otherwise sensible book makes someone who still lives for the purpose of excellence want to throw the book out of the window for being so tragically flawed despite so much other quality writing, thought and analysis.

As the cliché goes, a greatest strength becomes a greatest weakness, and DeLillo goes astray because he is an excellent writer with a lot to say but lacks the consciousness above that to edit this stuff down. Too many long conversations make their points through extended repetition, and too much is figurative without need to be. These characters could act out many of their ideas and demonstrate more connection to them with everyday events, and do it quickly, in the style of the father of the postmodern novel, William S. Burroughs. In Naked Lunch, figurative transfer occurred through setting and narrative voice entirely, with characters taking on roles but retaining strong personality. In White Noise, like most postmodern novels of its era, personality is washed out and replaced by an almost robotic duty to act out role. That in turn forces much of the dialogue to have the pace of a New Republic article, painfully exploring the depths of some topic without ever really gaining a position of strategic view. Burroughs cuts to the chase; DeLillo talks around it; this book could lose the usual hundred pages with no loss of communicative power.

Books exist both as objects in themselves, where the writing convinces us to enjoy the story, and within context, where they form part of the wave of thought on an idea and serve to articulate it much like the conversations they so rigidly memorialize. White Noise showed the Western world that in its postwar state, switching from culture to consumerism and ideology, it had completely lost control of its own destiny. Its people are bored, lonely, purposeless and miserable about mortality because life has literally no meaning except commerce, pleasuring others socially, and obedience. Humanity, the clever animal, plotted itself out of tension but in doing so, released itself from purpose, and so everything that we do becomes a background hum to an ego unleashed to find a purpose for itself. Our victory is our defeat, our strength is our weakness, and in the meantime, people wander like the characters in this book, giant brains in search of something to use them on. White Noise remains shocking and vital to this day because conditions have not changed, and inspired whole generations to secede from the nonsense chain of obedience to the Crowd that is modern society. Despite its flaws, it still carries the fire of discontent and emptiness and channels it outside the individual toward a loss of direction on a cultural level, and creates from that a viable critique of the lost West.


Monday, June 8th, 2015


“The mistake that most students make is to consider history a series of discrete events, with the past distant from the present,” his professor droned on, “but the reality is that history is — a language. Events trigger responses, and each society at any given time could be viewed as a culture of responses. Time shows how successful those are, with some societies even lasting for thousands of years.”

David Burleson zoned out in his chair. He had read about a school where they assigned you books, you read the books and then wrote an essay or participated in a debate about the topic. Classroom time always killed him because he got bored before he could get interested. His mind traveled back to what he considered his actual education, a trip across the continent last May…

“Come along, students,” said Mr. Marchant, the lead chaperone on the trip. Like all of their teachers, he had served in the military during active war, and his left leg lagged but David had no illusions: this man would crush and kill opponents in a fight. The others were similarly broad-shouldered, alert and almost paranoid in how they saw every person or event as a potential threat, and regarded most people as basically criminals held in check by fear. The students filed onto the train, a vast metal caravan with cars bristling in weapons on the front and rear.

David knew he was lucky to be on this trip. The son of a hardware store owner who had the wit to install a machine shop in the rear, David knew he was “prosperous” in the sense that his family had enough money to do most of whatever they wanted. His father invested heavily in education. “This won’t make you rich, but it might make you whole,” he said, while signing the admission forms to St. Augustus Academy. As part of that education, David would be exposed to the world outside of their isolated mega-hamlet in Northern Idaho. Set off the main roads and rivers, their spiderweb of towns and small cities thrived on its own production alone.

The train set off, moving more quietly than he thought, with the guns on the forward and rear cars tracking the hills with increasing urgency the farther they got from the valley. The rhythmic passage of tracks lulled him in to a kind of trance. He woke from it suddenly when the scene around him changed from green to grey as they passed through the ruins of another city. The buildings were not bullet-pocked, but abandoned, covered in graffiti and surrounded by the scattered waste from successive generations of looters. A few people who looked like beggars — skin of the universal brown that all Outpeople had, with mostly Asian features but sturdier bodies showing some hybridization with Caucasians, Africans and Indian-Australian aboriginals — picked their way through the ruins.

David knew how people on the rest of the continent looked because some, usually the very prosperous, came to visit, but it was agreed among the first families that they should not stay. Apparently once this had been tried and it was a disaster, but they did not teach that until lessons in later years. As David watched, several of the beggars moved toward one another near a heap of hay, and then, more adroitly than he would have thought based on their appearance, dove into the hay for weapons and opened fire. He saw they were using the rocket launchers he had read about in his textbook on the history of the 20th century. To his surprise, this shocked him more than the attack itself. Surely the weapons of the Outpeople had improved since those ancient and pointless wars? His mind jolted back to reality as one of the rockets struck a hit, blasting a man-sized gap into the engine car. Smoke filled the cabin and the machine guns returned fire wildly at first, but then zeroed in and chased down several of the miscreants. Looking out the window on the other side, David saw that the ambush had been staged from several points, with more than a dozen participants, several of whom now lay unmoving in pools of blood.

“Rare for them to hit us this early in the run,” said a dust-covered and bloodied railman as he came back into the cabin. He spoke to David almost instinctively, trusting the alertness of this tall teenager. “Round up the others, make sure no one was hurt, son.”

Having been born to practical people, from a long race of practical people who nonetheless nurtured their inner dream, David acted as he was told. He visited each of his classmates, boys and girls within a few years of his age, and verified no injuries. The shuttered bulletproof glass had kept out machine gun fire and no rockets had hit this car. David went on to the next car and did the same, and then the next. There he found that a wild miss had sent a rocket into the luggage compartment. He helped two other boys from his group beat down the flames, taking water from the bathroom to soak the smouldering remnants of obliterated luggage.

One girl had taken a small rocket fragment to the orbit above her eye, but sat stoically with blood streaming down her face. Knowing his first aid, David washed his hands, then the wound, and extracted the fragment which he put in an envelope for her. The cut would need stitches however, and so he backtracked with her to the railman, who pointed them to a former army medic who carefully sutured the wound. David held her hand — he thought her name was Helena, but did not pay particular attention to those around him — and felt the pulsing of her heart between the little squeezes she gave each time the needle bit into flesh. Sealed and disinfected, she hopped off the bunk and he took her back to her seat, gave her some water, and then joined his other classmates in hunting down the last of the fragments and salvaging what could be saved from the luggage. Thus ended the first encounter of David Burleson and the outside world.

Back in his car, David struck up a conversation with the railman he had seen before. “They hit us when they can,” said Henry, who had come from a mega-hamlet one-removed toward the river from where David originated. These autonomous regions operated without government for the most part, having only a handful of wise elders and volunteer civil services. In contrast, the rest of the continent had government, but from what Henry said, it had little control. “In the cities, they have power,” he said. “But the cops take bribes, and the politicians are buddies with the guys with money, so the laws are all messed up and everyone works around them. The more order you get, the more disorder happens.” Henry went on to explain that the only useful order came from corporations, like the rail company, and unincorporated tribal areas like the mega-hamlets. Everything else was “all about the same,” he said.

The students crowded to the windows as they passed through first towns and then cities. They all looked about the same: crooked roads shaped by buildings that seemed to spill out of the ground like foam, constructed on top of one another with no sense for architecture or stability. Helena stepped up next to him at the window. Like David, she was a clear Western European Caucasian: long face, blue eyes, lighter hair and elegant bone structure in the style of this ancient people. “I read that these are what they once called favelas in a place in the South Atlantic Protectorate,” she said. “They make them out of bricks, concrete and wood, and they fall down a lot. Then they just build them again.”

“I never knew the world was so disappointing,” David said. “I imagined vast kingdoms, interesting places, culture and learning, but instead I see dirty savages in the ruins of civilization.”

“It may be both,” said Helena. “I study literature and music, so I sample much of what they produce. These people have more music than we do. More books also. And many theories that their scientists and academics develop. The problem is that the content of these works is generally low. Their songs for example are very musically similar, and operate on only a few principles but many techniques and different sounds. After a few hours of listening, they all run together because they are all in effect the same song in different keys and with different instrument textures. Their books tend to have many fragments of theory in them, but no central point, so they become these complicated stories that end at a very simple idea because nothing holds together all their parts. Their dances are not like ours, which are orderly and have structure from beginning to end, but are improvised like much of their music, which means that they tell the same story over and over again in different forms. I am both impressed by what they write and play, and prefer ours immensely.”

Having never cared for either literature or music, David knew not how to proceed. Being an intrepid adventurer, he kept the conversation going. “What do you like about literature?” he asked.

“The same thing I like about science and history, I suppose,” she said. “People do things a certain way, and they get similar results because of that. In literature, characters must overcome their fear and self-doubt to do what they know in their inner selves is true, while everyone around them tries to confuse the issue for their own convenience. Most people do not want truth or beauty because they want personal power over things that are less important than they think they are, but they are afraid to abandon them because they are all they know. This is why our great stories are all adventures, where the heroes leave a comfortable state of mind and see how primitive and criminal the world is, and then they decide to do what they can to improve it. That can be as simple as having the right conversation, or slaying a dragon, or running the right business, or even what you do in science lab or on the farm, which is to make things work better.”

David raised an eyebrow. “I saw your independent project last semester,” she said. “About using capillary pressure in stone to produce never-ending irrigation.”

“Oh, that,” he said. “It was a fun idea… but it fails because it needs constant cleaning from the mud build-up. It would never be eternal, which is what I wanted it to be, so that I could create a forest that would always thrive.”

Helena nodded. “Eternal, well, that is quite a goal to shoot for. But at least long-lasting, I can understand. That will require people to take care of whatever it is, whether it needs irrigation or defense against those who would abuse it, or just clearing out the dead wood. If there are no people who understand, the thing no longer has utility, and fades away into history.”

“True,” said David. “I just like the idea that people a thousand years from now my sit in my forest and love it as I have.”

“There is a term for that,” said Helena. “Civilization. We all make the best of everything we can, then write down what we have learned, so that others may do it a thousand years hence or longer.”

As the day went on, David and Helena saw more of the Outworld. Fallen bridges, rivers covered in oily rainbows of chemicals, vast fields dead and burned long ago which did not regrow, smashed monuments, wreckage of machines, great piles of garbage and endless tenements of the kind they had seen before, with stores and homes lumped together and built on top of each other.

“It is a crazy world out there,” said Henry. “It is why our people moved away. The cities had more money, and probably still do, but everyone who adopts that lifestyle becomes changed. They get shorter, darker and less honest. Soon they mix blood with others, not just other tribes but outside of their place in life, and then it becomes like the jungle savages but with technology. All the time, dancing and drinking, making a big deal out of nothing. The pipes stop working, the water turns foul, pollution fills up everything, but what do they care? They have their dancing, their drink and their parties. They can just buy more water, or put a wall around their houses so they do not have to hear the chaos outside. People seal themselves up into little bubbles and as a result what they share, what we call the commons, falls apart and turns into this mess.”

David watched as twilight fell. He could not remove his eyes from the tragedy scrolling by outside. It both enthralled and terrified him. But as he saw how unending it was, how relentless and common it all was, something changed in him. He clenched his fist and whispered to himself, “I will never let this happen to our lands… our good people… our future.” A single tear dropped from the center of his eye and he brushed it away angrily.

Helena stepped forward from where she had been standing, next to him and behind him. “All of the world is this way,” she said. “So few of our people realize that we are the rare exception not by fortune, but by choice. To avoid this, we have to care about being good. About keeping the forests alive, children pure and happy, and learning what is true and placing it above whatever we hoped was real instead. I do not wish to be unkind to my own sex, but it seems to me that very few women in comfortable homes recognize what is required to have those homes and how… different… these people are, that they make what seems like the opposite choice.”

David nodded. “Their forests are all wrong,” he said. “Just little bits here and there, filled with garbage, and only the small animals stay and they live off the humans. We travel through a land of death.” He exhaled heavily. “I have not known how much I wish to live, until now.”

She stepped closer and put her head on his shoulder.

Henry the railman blew the whistle as the train returned to its station several days later. The students filed out, subdued. Even the slower ones had seen what David and Helena had witnessed. The world was heavier, the air more threatening, as they went back to their golden valleys and warm homes surrounded by vibrant green trees and a diversity of animals. That night, each grabbed a pillow in a world that was suddenly darker and colder, but sleep would not come. Only the thought, echoing in their minds, how without positive choices the world became an evil and ruined place, and most people wanted it that way. It was paradoxical, inconceivable… evil.

At the school, Marchant poured himself his second whiskey. “I hate doing it,” he said. “Every time, to see those little hearts shattered. Like the first day we faced the enemy. I had never known terror before.”

Henry poured himself another as well. “It was not a happy mission,” he said. “But it is necessary. The other side of love is terror. If you love something, you cannot protect it from the world. You have to show it why your way is right and everything else is disease. Otherwise, it will never protect itself, and your efforts will be its doom.”

“I will drink to that,” said Marchant. “Still, it was no happy duty.”

“As we said in the fields of battle,” said Henry, “Like Christ and Socrates, we will face hell so that the future will be brighter. They are honoring our service with their own, in a little way. Someday they will take over from us, and this valley will stay golden. The children will not be innocent, no, but one can never be innocent. Evil exists nowhere and everywhere. It is a choice, like an error or illusion, that people fall into. And without inoculation against it, our people are ready victims for the enemy.”

Marchant raised his glass. Henry touched it with his. “Who dares wins,” he said finally.

The elephant in the room continues to grow

Friday, November 21st, 2014


See life through the eyes of a child: adults worry, and hide their worry, then raise their voices and deny the worry, then cast a worried glance at the kids.

What do they fear?

Let me introduce my theory of denial: our will to deny a problem exists in inverse proportion to its triviality. That is, we do not bother to deny the unimportant; but the really big problems tend to make us go into denial.

I observed this with mice in a laboratory once. A technician would place the killing device — it beheaded them — on the table next to the glass tank full of mice. They knew what it did and feared it. But they needed to eat, to reproduce and to play, so they left their cardboard shelters and did so, right in the shadow of the death-machine. There was nothing else to do.

Humans have the same attitude toward death, but also toward what really is the elephant in the room for modern people. I watched every adult I know firmly assert denial of it, and yet probe around the edges in conversation like someone flirting with the edge of a cliff and certain death below. They knew it was there, but life must go on, so…

The elephant which inhabits our room and continues to grow — perhaps someone helpful is feeding it cream puffs — is the fallen nature of our society. Once, the Greeks and Romans walked the earth, and they told of a golden era before their time. Once, art was beautiful and music was magically complex and yet clear. Once, people had decorum, and were not just sloppy creatures of convenience, promiscuity and deception who shuffled off to jobs like inmates.

But now? We not only can see that our society is miserable, but we can see how this wave has come toward us through the centuries of history. We know from our reading that decay came slowly, reducing these proud people to the shambling wrecks that now define the norm.

We also realize that whatever opposes this decay is both something eternal, and an idea that most of these people will not only deny but fight tooth and nail because they are in desperate and needy denial upon which they base their self-esteem. To notice the elephant is to be subversive, and they don’t want that. They will even radically shift ideology or lifestyle, anything to avoid seeing that elephant.

How do we know our society is miserable? Look at how people act: mean, territorial, dishonest, and prone to ignore actual problems and focus on symbolic acts instead. What about our world? Covered in advertising, with ugly square buildings, filled with smells of exhaust and human waste. Ruled over by sportsball and entertainment. It’s the slaves’ holiday dressed up as liberation.

Absolutely nothing in the world can make sense until we identify the elephant, talk about it and admit its existence. Most people will do anything but this because they are massively afraid of it and in weakness determine to hide that fear instead of working together to fix the actual problem. Such is the nature of our society, and every society before it that has fallen.

Overpopulation is the cause of environmental damage, global warming

Sunday, May 4th, 2014


Most political issues are “proxies,” or highly visual events which stand for more complex underlying needs. Symbols tend to hide their actual meaning because that to which they refer is bigger than the symbol, and yet people tend to treat the symbols literally. Global warming symbolizes our impact on the environment as a whole, and the anti-carbon agenda represents our hope that we can avoid changing all that needs changing and instead focus on just one aspect.

A more sensible thought is to look at the basic equation of human impact:

D = P x I

Damage (D) is the result of Population (P) times Impact Per Person (I). This simplifies a complex issue to demonstrate a simple fact.

That fact is that population has more effect than changing impact. This equation shows us two scales along which we can slide. We can adjust Impact Per Person, which lowers Damage. Alternately, we can lower Population which also lowers Damage. The glitch is that if we adjust Impact Per Person, and population keeps growing, we end up with the same Damage as we would have had we kept Impact Per Person the same.

Thus, a world of seven billion people living in mud huts, eating vegan diets grown in their own gardens, and walking instead of driving has the same effect as perhaps three billion people living 1960s American-style lifestyles. Trying to reduce impact becomes a losing game once we see how low we would have to make impact in order to accommodate our sprawling population. Even more, that misses out on the real problem brought on by overpopulation, which is land overuse.

Recently Ašţal Journal published an insight into the overpopulation dilemma:

John Barry writes:

The remarkable thing is that the real cause of global warming is rarely mentioned. It is the elephant in the room. Everyone can see it but no one wants to speak about it, presumably because this subject is a contentious one and challenges the core beliefs of many religions.

The undeniable fact is that we, the human race, are the cause of our own difficulties and unless we reduce our numbers, we will self-destruct.

In our last issue, we were supporting very similar views:

That climate change and its cowardly short-term compromises may gather so much attention while overpopulation remains in the shadows as the elephant in the room is an eternal source of contrived astonishment. Out of all the explanations provided for the increase in carbon dioxide production, overpopulation should figure again and again at the very top. The pressure that overpopulation puts on the planet has become ―to employ a fashionable word― unsustainable; as unsustainable as the collective forgetting that pervades throughout the majority of countries, from decision-makers to social scientists, from educators to laymen. What is most disturbing and enraging is that it has been more than a half-century since the full disastrous consequences of population explosion have been worked out, and that so little progress has been made, so little goodwill displayed, so little awareness raised.

Even our thinking about the environment itself is based in the same denial described above that denies global warming, as another source writes:

The very fact that we debate global warming endlessly while ignoring this ongoing process of decline shows that we, as a species, are in denial about our effects on our natural world. As products of our modern era, we’re accustomed to using a process:

  1. Isolate a factor.
  2. Norm to some iterative constant.
  3. Reduce to cause-effect logic, exploit.

Despite its effectiveness for producing internal combustion engines and digital computers, this process is useless for understanding architectonic systems, or systems where the parts interact to form a self-supporting whole, meaning that no part functions as a pivot but all parts are in some way pivotal. Dragonflies eat mosquitoes, and bluejays eat dragonflies; bluejay excretory waste feeds yeast, which grows enough yeast to break down organic products and attract more advanced creatures, and these return nutrients to the earth to grow plants which in turn feed male and immature mosquitoes. It’s a giant cycle composed of many counter-dependent internal cycles.

People are afraid to face these simple truths, so they invent symbols to use as proxies. If we just each buy a Prius and eat organic local foods, we can prevail. Right? Well, no. Everyone else will go on doing what they’re doing and create the same catastrophe. Even watching wealthy first worlders decide they’re going to avoid having children “for the environment” reeks of this same mentality. This is symbolic, not a look at actual reality.

Actual reality is that Earth is finite and humans, aided by first world modes of living, are seemingly infinite. We will eventually expand to cover every livable space and then tackle the rest. This will happen because we cannot say NO to anyone, since they are all equal. If someone shows up, and “just” wants a place to live, go to school, work, hospitals, roads, food, cars, etc., who are we to say no? — if you want to know why we need arrogant kings, there’s one answer.

Something else to consider is that blaming technology is a dead end. What enabled this growth was not technology per se, but the level of organization common to a first world mode of living. We use soap; we deposit feces away from food; we remove vermin and stop epidemics. This enables us to grow like an unchecked weed. And yet, it also dooms us to the suffocation of overgrowth, which either we will stop or nature will use to stop us.

Like all human problems, the crisis begins within. It is dishonesty (and thus, sin) to take an abstraction from nature and proclaim that the symbol stands for the whole. It is dishonesty to ignore reality in favor of a proxy or symbol because it is easier to understand the symbol and thus to communicate it to others and bring them onboard. As it is outside our heads, inside our heads we are also suffocating from an overgrowth of lies because the simplicity of truth is something we fear.

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