Every time someone reads this blog an angel gets its wings. - Zuzu, the Elder
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Smile
I first experienced this reluctance to look directly at me among the lepers that hung out around the marketplace in Jakarta when I was a boy: I guess they found that 'whole' people wouldn't look them in the eye or if they did, their 'look' would be filled with shock and horror. So the disfigured go through life avoiding visual connection with other people lest it once again remind them that to the world they are "hideous". Of course to them, they're not. Just as when I look in the mirror I don't think I'm old - but the disfigured have learned that looking 'wholes' in the eye is a painful experience best to be avoided. It must be a strange, lonely world - so much of what is essential about us is communicated through our gaze. As Shakespeare wrote: "the eyes are the window to your soul"
Despite never looking directly at me, Marta came to recognize me - I suppose by my voice and my typically "just got out of bed" appearance. Early on I tried a number of different stratagems to 'trick' her into looking me in the eye, including introducing myself "hi, I'm Bill, what's your name?" "Marta" she said, never raising her eyes above my chest. After a while I gave up - Marta had spent her whole life dealing with her appearance - who was I to try to manipulate her just to see if I could catch her eye? This went on for the longest time - we'd talk and joke (for I am terribly perky in the morning, it's quite a burden for others) and do all the other things that familiar strangers do in an open culture like Texas, but no eye contact.
Until one day when I was so preoccupied with my own problems that I didn't even really notice her serving me. When she asked me if I wanted my "re-goo-lar" as she puts it, I didn't even hear her. Then snapping back to the real world I looked over and there they were: her eyes - gazing steadily into mine. Her smiling eyes. I felt like I'd been given a great gift - a view into a soul more closely guarded than a fortress. And it was beautiful. Because she is beautiful - much more beautiful than I'll ever be.
We're friends now - and I'm eating a lot more McDonalds breakfasts than I probably should but I can't resist those eyes. Marta's smiling eyes.
Monday, November 21, 2016
The Man on a Horse, Poor Folks and Morale
2. Rorty predicts a strong man or "The Man on the Horse" will lead these disaffected to overthrow the constitutional order. But the last time a strong man overthrew the legitimate constitutional order in an Anglo Saxon country (UK, Ireland, US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand) was in 1066 when Duke William of Normandy beat King Harold at Hastings. Our culture doesn't do dictatorships and there's no indication that it's going to happen now. We're just seeing human nature play out. It's a bit like say a man...yeah...a man who when his affections are rejected by a woman walks off muttering darkly "she'll be sorry she blew me off" fantasizing about dread scenarios to make himself feel better. Eventually the loser, I mean losers will get over themselves.
3. The US Does have a strong history and tradition of successfully defying attempts to impose tyrannical rule by King George (13 original states) and by Santa Ana (Texas and California). Indeed when Santa Ana demanded that the Texas National Guard give back their cannon (preparatory to his invasion to subjugate texas) this was the first revolutionary flag of the Republic of Texas - we've always been gun nuts. And people in places like TX are far better armed today as well has having the loyalties of a significant share of the military's experienced combat arms.
4. Rorty is partially right about poverty. But there are two approaches in the US towards poverty: the California High-Low Materialist approach and the Texas favor the working classes Morale approach. They differ as to what they think the poor's primary problem is. I'd be happy to bore you about it if you like.
Thanks for sending me the piece, it was interesting.
Monday, September 19, 2016
The light in your eyes
I get lost chasing the light in your eyes.
I'm not sure I can't live up to your ways.
Monday, September 12, 2016
Us Cats IV-2
back and forth, top to bottom.
purring purring, purrrr.
Us cats rolling on.
Playing, fighting is so fun.
Bite my neck. Hold on.
Monday, August 29, 2016
Saturday, August 27, 2016
You can't own hearts
Some of them pretty, some of them plain.
I picked them up all the same.
"What are you to me?"
They'd tell me nothing that I wanted to be.
Or toss them in the sea
None of them meant very much to me.
I just had to have that pebble.
Or else I would die.
Love is about giving, love is about truth.
And the only thing you can keep of any man,
Is the sweetness of his love and the touch of his hand.
So I picked it up.
I held it so tight.
This was the stone for which I would fight.
Said it was mine.
Put it on a pedestal that was so very fine.
(Much to my dismay.)
Or possessed or ruled in any other way.
Love is about giving, love is about truth.
And the only thing you can keep of any woman born,
Is the sweetness of her love and the touch of her hand.
And used me in her way.
Until the day I fit no more and she tossed me far away.
great waves of pain.
So I swore that I'd never pick up pretty pebbles again.
Because I can never look away
From all the many pebbles that come pebbling my way.
that threaten waves of pain.
To see if it hurts when I hold them again.
Love is about giving, about becoming whole.
And the only thing you can have of any woman or man,
Is the sweetness of their love and the touch of their hand.
And the only thing I've learned,
Really the only thing I know. Is...
Love is about giving, about becoming whole.
And the only thing you can have of any woman or man
Is the sweetness of their love and the touch of their hand.
Saturday, August 06, 2016
A Bill and Hillary Clinton Parable
Monday, July 04, 2016
Ode to Karen on the day of her birth.
Oh Karen! Mighty Twin!
It is your birthday once again!
Your age advances as does the regard
of those who fell for you so hard.
Oh Karen! It is thee we beseech
because you are a helluva peach.
We lift our glasses to toast you on high,
it is your praises that we do cry.
Oh Karen! Sister of noble Kathleen,
who looks so much like you it must be seen!
So it can be said that God has made
two perfect creatures in one short day.
Oh Karen! One of a kind!
We look and say 'what a find'!
We are honored to sing your praise
and to wish you a happy birthday.
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Note to EU-Philes: We told you so, you fucking idiots.
But I'm afraid he's lost it on Brexit (he's a little more rational here but he plays the Norway card stupidly). But I love his moxie. Nick argues that Brexiting is in fact a moral crime. He does so by insulting as many people as he can think of as if he were shit faced drunk. So, rather than fisking an hysterical drunk, I'm going to take the high road and evaluate this EU thingy that 'everyone who's anyone agrees is just the best thing ever and if we leave our economy will collapse or at least the euros will be mean to us at Gstaad and Cannes and we can't bear the thought of that. After all we've spent our whole lives trying to be the cool kids and not be dorky English and we're not going to give up being invited to French parties just because some assholes voted the wrong way" but I really shouldn't paraphrase Twisted Nicky like that.
So let's just lay out a scorecard on the EU's basics, shall we?:
Free Trade: Pretty much everybody that's anybody on any side (including Trumpikins no matter what sewer gas he's belching today) agrees two thumbs up, way up. Particularly within Europe because of its fragmentation and the good Ricardian comparative advantage matchup. Particularly the 'make shit, do shit' divide whereby people in gloomy northern places make everything and then go south to cope with the stress of making all that stuff and let the laid back southerners rob them blind to buy more shit. Oh, and lest anyone get confused: the Swiss, Norwegians and other non EU bits of Europe have this deal and so will a Brexited UK, unless the Euros decide to go for actual depression rather than just their standard Euro quality stagnation - and no, the UK is not Norway).
Monetary Union: 'Oh my fucking God what a disaster'. Even Paul Krugman says so (of course this is post hoc Paulie so who knows what his un ergoed propter hoc was). I note that there were (pace Cohen) 'thousands' of experts saying the UK was making a 'terrible' mistake and that the Euro was going to 'conquer' or 'eat' or at least do something nasty to the dollar. Those thousands of experts are such scamps!
Immigration: "The German race is the master race they go oom papa oom papa", wait, that's Spike Jones and that was old 'n nasty Der Fuehrer Germans not today's Der Frauhaus Germans. But it's as if EU immigration policy has become a way for Germany to get back at the rest of Europe for being so beastly to it for shifting the Jewish Question back to Palestine where it belongs. And the cool thing about it if you listen to the UN it's die Juden that are driving all these Muslims into Europe (and crazy, don't forget crazy). Only the smart ones don't want to be in "Europe" they want to be in "London" and tens of thousands of them cluster around the Chunnel desperate to escape beautiful France for wildly expensive and plodding London. The upshot is that England has experienced the highest rate of immigration of any European nation since the Visigoths told the Romans "we dig this place so we be hanging wit you" back in the 400s. And judging from the 1400 documented rapes of underage girls covered up by the police in the single town Rotherham (ignoring the other 'immigrant' grooming rings in all the other towns) the benefits have gone to the City boys and the downsides to the cloth capped, forelock tugging provincials that everyone is cursing. This isn't all the EU's fault but who's going to blame voters for what they see with their lying eyes?
The Socio-economic Triumph of the Administrative/Intellectual class: 60 percent of UK law is now made in the European Union. Not by elected parliament but by apparatchiks in the European Council or is it the Council of Europe - or maybe the European Commission - so many C's so little accountability. Much of this is just annoyingly pedantic - like saying that not only must you accommodate metric weights and measures (as the US has for decades) but you must ban all other forms of measuring and counting - but also lots of 'anti discrimination' legislation, social standards (some of which the UK has wriggled out of), the shape and size of bananas (a bigger deal than you would think, particularly to Germans), banning GMOs, invasive commercial regulation and other 'progressive' obsessions that intermittently sweep down from Scandinavia like blue northers. This is what is called the "Triumph of Progressivism".
Foreign Policy: One would think that the creation of the European Superstate would translate all of Europe's economic power into immense geopolitical power and that the world would quake in their wake. But the opposite has happened: a Europe that pretended that the EEC kept the peace when it was really American boots on the ground now has graduated to pretending that they're studmuffins of power just like 'merica. So they go into places like Bosnia or the Ukraine and go 'pew pew' with their fingers and the locals, not understanding that they're just playing, actually shoot back. So they scurry home loudly demanding that Americans do something. They've semi dissolved all of these nation states to the extent that they are almost completely disarmed without creating a loyalty to the dear old (pedantic, oppressive, self righteous, undemocratic) EU. As Gomer Pyle would say "surprise, surprise".
So now we have a "Europe" where the Eastern Europeans and the Finns are quaking at the thought of a wounded and dying Russia deciding to take them 'with' while the Southern Tier are just expanding their game of 'loot the stressed out northerners' to see how much more they can get until the scam ends, while the French pout, the Irish max out their "Hey America we're the only part of the EU that's rational, speaks English and won't tax your ass off so put all of your assets here" - which works for such a tiny place and then there are the Scans - Norway clipping coupons, the others living semi detached except for the terrified Finns. And there's Germany who seems to be doing swell, finally getting the sock puppet Europe they've always wanted.
And outside of England, Germany and the Scans, the thing is an economic and demographic black hole. The Euro area hasn't grown in forever and faith in the future is so low that native populations are cratering to be replaced by Shariah-ites. By contrast the offshore Anglo Saxon world is much richer and actually growing. The common English hear about it from their friends and relations there, can see so on the telly and when they vacation in Orlando or NYC. And these chaps haven't a single EU membership to their names....nothing but free trade and your bog standard global agreements. Hmm. But the experts, the thousands upon tens of thousands upon hundreds of thousands of experts who expert for the EU or its component elites say that 'the EU is swell as hell' and anybody who's anybody agrees - upon pain of losing their friends, their status, their job, their kids' admission to Oxbridge.
Indeed the only high status people who could possibly support Leave were people who had already made their break with the establishment and had nothing to lose. Which is why Nick's charming semi-ad hominem (list your enemy's sins but not your own in the hopes that people who don't know much about English politics will swallow it hook line and sinker) works so well: "But everyone who's anyone knows that Boris and Michael are such cads and bounders and just not the right sort, don't you know. To the sound of modern upper class English twits what-whatting accompanied by sitars amid a miasma of patchouli and roasting beef shawarma.
"Bloody lower orders don't know their place."
Author's Note:
Indeed, it's only when you remember that the formation and life of the "Union" has been during the most prosperous and peaceful time in the history of the world - that it's only 24 years old and it's already in intensive care - do you realize that this bizarre pseudo-heffalump imagined and created by chaps who by and large have never done a damned thing in their lives has no chance of surviving a real, honest to gosh existential crisis. This is the League of Nations re-imagined as an apparatchik racket that is going to continue to go phhhht because it is the most fragile thing that's ever existed and no one will fight for it. Ever. So the UK is just getting out before the panicked rush.
PS: I attended school with some of these guys and worked with many of them as Partners and staff. Nice guys, but like all of us, their judgement is impaired by their appetites and their regnant snobbery which is concentrated in a small parochial environment like London.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
On Holland, England, Declarations of Independence and Crazy Ass Admirals
Second, American freedom is based upon a Dutch/English Joint Venture. The Dutch had the first modern Republic in the world so when the English finally got sick of their jackass Scottish kings they had a "Glorious Revolution" and turfed them out (The Brits were always good at PR - even back then they were thinking about the tourist trade) . But that meant they needed a new king for the tourists so they imported a slick Dutch model called William (which is a bit ironic because after all, another Willie had invaded England in 1066 and made them kowtow to him in French which no doubt frosted their ale mugs pretty badly). The key selling feature of this guy - aside from him being married to an English Princess - was that he was house trained, specifically House of Commons trained to be a Constitutional Monarch. It's this "Glorious Revolution and King Adoption" that the American revolutionaries based our Declaration of Independence as "Free Englishmen" on. If the Dutch hadn't bred house trained princes then we might have been in trouble.
The third thing that I noticed in this film was that everything comes full circle: the Dutch gave us the Republic thing, whacked a prince with a rolled up parchment until he was trained enough to not wee on Parliament so the English could give us the Glorious Revo idea. And what did we give them in return? The Errol Flynn maneuver whereby movie stars who are supposed to be playing sober captains and admirals instead behave like......well, jackass Scottish kings - forgetting their duty completely and running amuck like baboons with swords and capes. Which is precisely what this de Ruyter hepcat did in the movie.
So thanks Dutch dudes for the constitutional republicanism and capitalism and trade and all that and here's your ridiculous movie cliche in return. Let us know if you need anything else. We've got a really cool large breasted ingenue cliche we call Marilyn Monroe-ism that we can let go for cheap. Or if you're into mid century ass wiggling rock star cliches we can let Elvis' Pelvis go for a song.
Sunday, May 08, 2016
Trans Bathrooms and Lenin's Who? Whom?
Thursday, May 05, 2016
Milo's Mind
Milo Yiannanopolis is best known for mocking politically correct Social Justice Warrior opinion. As he puts it: "I was born conservative and chose to be homosexual".
"Believing that a person’s sex, race and orientation defines the acceptable limits of the opinions they may hold is called 'identity politics.' It’s a bizarre but flourishing cult in America today that makes fools of its supporters by presenting an insultingly reductionist view of human nature."
You will hear a lot more about Milo. And will be told that to be a 'Good Person' who cares about 'social justice' you must hate him. But he's obviously right.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Yes, Transgender rights, but what about the vulnerable ones?
We now have the great "Transgender Liberation". Up until now if I had seen a person that looked like a man going into a women' bathroom or locker I would have personally gone up to them and told them to get the hell out and if they resisted found enough other men to throw them out. I have no doubt any number of seriously Trans men went in unbeknownst to me and did no harm but if I had seen someone questionable there's no doubt what I would have done. No more. For to do so in today's rights environment would get me punished. Now the Transgender bathroom issue isn't really a big deal for my daughter or her friends - they're upper middle class and live in communities where there are lots of responsible and vigilant civic minded people who will keep the craziness to a minimum. But I keep thinking about those doomed boys. And their sisters in inner city schools where misogyny and sexual violence are already endemic. The doomed boys no doubt will interpret the new regime as giving them another form of 'fun'. And the schools will struggle to fight against it, fearing - as we did - to be brought up on civil rights charges.
So once again we may end up with a situation where middle class, progressive, white society - through its self centered, self righteousness - finds a new way to hate poor boys and girls to death.
Sexual Predators are like wolves: they adapt.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Progressive Paradoxes
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Appropriating cultural appropriation appropriation-wise
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Hello
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
And so it begins
Monday, March 14, 2016
This chick is nuts.
The Chain
The chain was biting into his ankle. The unbreakable chain that bound all the continental children. Up until now, it had been loose but some of the others had tipped over the edge into the abyss and now it was getting tight.
"Well of course there are problems" the Wise One said in an exasperated tone as he bit into a ripe peach he had just plucked from the tree. "Look at these peaches!".
"Yes, but the chain."
He looked down at the links around The Boy's ankle and their taughtness that stretched off into the distance connected to their friends and their friend's friends and others who were already gone. He looked at his own, which was as loose or looser than than The Boy's had been and shrugged.
"You worry too much."
"But it hurts!" The Boy said, straining against the chain. His shoes skipped a fraction of an inch as he pulled.
"You must be exaggerating because I don't see Cal or Jurgen squawking....." tossing the now exposed pit aside. "Things are just like they've always been, have a peach" proffering the ripe, beautiful fruit to The Boy who had both hands around the chain and his feet jammed and scrabbling the ground.
Off in the distance they could hear Cal and Jurgen laughing and calling back and forth to each other. They were lying on the ground and their respective chains were dragging them slowly, ever so slowly but they didn't seem cut into their ankles the way it did The Boy's and anyway, they didn't seem to mind.
And the Wise One was right: things were beautiful. The trees were filled with fruit, the sky was a sparkling blue and there was a babbling brook darting and dancing all the way down to the abyss. The roar of the water as it fell in almost drowned out the cries and moans of those inside. The Slavic kids scrabbling at the steep sides, trying to stop their slide, the Asians, almost all boys, grim jaws set, climbing over the bodies of others clamped to the wall and the Bantu wails from all the little ones at the bottom - too young and weak to even begin to escape the dark, cold water.
A number of the children walked over to talk to The Boy and The Wise One - the ones without chains. "Why do you have a chain?" they asked.
"Because we are Continentals!" The Wise One answered proudly.
"But you'll end up in the Abyss"
"No we won't" The Wise One said a little too defiantly as one of the littlest fell screaming down the side.
"Why don't you just unlock your lock? Take the chain off?"
The Boy winced but not from the pain of the chain in his skin but from the mention of the treason he planned.
"There is no key", The Wise One said. "Well, to use a key wouldn't work", he finally admitted "because all of those other kids further down - the ones that don't realize what is happening to them - would fall in all the faster" he said with an intensity that belied his feigned nonchalance. "There is no choice, we must remain linked no matter what".
"Do you think you're your brother's keeper?" said the Free Leader incredulously.
"Yes, of course, we're the responsible ones"
"Then why are you letting the chain drag you all down to the abyss? Do you like coldness and darkness?"
"No, of course not. But this is what we've always done"
"That's a lie" shouted, The Boy - "There never used to be these tight chains, we all stayed together in the meadow and played but it's only been a little while since we were all chained together, ever since the abyss opened in the middle."
The Wise One rounded on him "for your own good, so you wouldn't stray. Please be quiet, you're making things worse" as The Boy's straining legs and shoes skipped again.
By the by The Wise One wandered off to debate with the Free Ones, he had so much slack in his chains he could walk the entire meadow. The Boy, exhausted from his fight looked around furtively and digging in his pocket retrieved the golden key that they all had before they accepted the lock and the chain. But many of the children had been careless or improvident and had lost or sold theirs. Not The Boy. He looked at the key's gleam - it read in finely etched letters: "Liberty". All of a sudden a wail went up among some of the other tightly dragging children who jealously pointed at The Boy, chanting "key, key, key". He frantically began trying to fit the key in the lock and release it but his hands were tired and bloody from the fight with his chain and he kept dropping it.
The Wise One looked up from his reverie, and called out the alarm to his still loosely chained friends. As The Boy finally recovered the key one of them kicked it out of his hand and it flew far away....out of reach for the tightly chained Boy.
"Please, he begged, please give me my key back".
"No, you're not allowed to flee, you're nothing but a coward."
"For God sakes! I'm going to be dragged into the abyss, don't you understand? Please, please give me my key! It's mine! I saved it."
The Free Children came over, looking pensive.
"Well surely you'll help me, please just go get my key - it's right over there. There's nothing they can do to you".
But they just stood there, staring.
"Why won't you help me?" The Boy cried out.
"We can't" Said the Largest of their group "Every child has to choose to be tied to a chain or to become truly free of their own accord. We can't do anything except encourage. It's every child for themselves".
The Boy sobbed as his shoes finally broke their friction connection with the ground and he landed unceremoniously on his back - moving a full half a foot Abyss-ward in the process. He lay there softly crying as the chain dragged him towards his end. After a while he began humming and laughing, talking to himself and smiling.
The Wise One turned to the Free Ones "See, I told you he wanted to stay chained" and walked away with his steadily shortening chain in tow.
Monday, March 07, 2016
Someone Great
But asking is easy. Getting and becoming are the task.
You say you want someone great well so do I.
Someone with the love and faith to fly.
So we can ride on angels' wings
And remember our forgotten dreams.
Is the task of a lifetime, greatness to achieve.
Someone with the love and faith to fly.
So we can ride on angels' wings
And remember our forgotten dreams.
And in the end it would be enough, enough to say
We loved each other every day.
Sunday, March 06, 2016
Where fools and knaves tread on us - the Presidential election and the fall of the Roman Republic
So let's review the candidates from a Roman perspective. As of today there are four likely candidates for President of the United states. They are in descending order of age:
A septuagenarian socialist gadfly supported by overpaid government employees with lifetime employment, academics in state subsidized garden spots like Berkeley, Boulder and Ann Arbor and a certain type of white liberal who live in areas of the country little touched by the 'diversity' that they promote for everyone but themselves. He's the Gracchus brothers who to get power promised to loot the state on behalf of their supporters. And to be stopped they had to be killed.
Two elderly centimillionaires who have lived privileged lives of comfort and legal immunity ever since they left Yale Law. Notoriously, the first time they entered the White House they claimed to be a co-presidency. This time around it's quite apparent that they must be co-Presidents because the female member of the team is clearly suffering from mental exhaustion and possibly dementia. Her appearances are described as 'wooden', 'going through the motions' interspersed with 'deranged'. This lack of mental acuity explains why she used a clearly illegal mail server and when questioned argued (after she had to have been carefully briefed by her handlers to the contrary) that the server was 'secure' because the closet she had it in was protected by the Secret Service. Her Husband, who clearly intends to be the power behind the Eagle Throne in what is increasingly looking like a reprise of late Woodrow Wilson (all they need is a milquetoast Veep to play ball) will enter office having sold upwards of $250 to $500 million of indulgences to the world's most powerful and ugly people. The Clintons enter this phase of the contest knowing they must win because 1. Their investors will not tolerate their failure. 2. They need the politico-legal immunity that being President or likely to be President has bought them what with Hillary's national security crimes and Bill's dalliances on convicted underage sex criminal Jeffery Epstein's Lolita Express. There are simply too many bodies half buried and no one will buy the Chelsea for President gambit. Their age and long separation from real world accountability will make them a modern day Marius in his dotage: entitled, self indulgent, corrupt and erratic....in a word: dangerous.
Another rich entitled, elderly charlatan and long time associate and frequent donor to the Clintons whose crude language and anti-immigrant rhetoric obscure his otherwise impeccable Clinton-Crony political credentials. Like the Clintons he's a notorious if much less artful (or perhaps just not protected by a complaisant press) liar, he's done many, many unethical things with many half buried bodies that stink to high heaven. The Clintons figure that if they can't get in they definitely want their Good Friend Donald to win because they can hold each other hostage with the debris from their decades of immoral and criminal activities. If he gets in he'll play Sulla the thuggish dictator to their dementia and perversion overwhelmed Marius.
A brilliant forty something of Latino heritage who doesn't pander to "La Raza". He has no bodies buried, no scandals and leads an exemplary family life. He is promoting a traditional Reaganite foreign and domestic policy agenda. He is hated and feared above all the others by the power elite in Washington DC because they know he means it. He's the spitting image of the self righteous and inflexible Cato the Younger whose highly principled, self righteous and ham handed political machinations led to Julius Caesar's coup and the collapse of the Republic.
All of these candidates are fighting to replace the man who has presided over the longest period of stagnation in American history. His vigorous leadership has achieved the most precipitous declines in liberty, economic competitiveness, labor force participation and now for the first time: life expectancy ever recorded. Author of a string of notoriously corrupt initiatives in healthcare, 'clean' energy, banking and IRS intimidation, he is proudly promoting the results of a 'recovery' that has increased the poverty rate. This child of privileged African elites and white radicals who got into office by claiming the mantle of African American victimhood is held in contempt by most foreign leaders who recognize that his foreign policy of rewarding our enemies, punishing our friends and otherwise standing paralyzed is the product of his uncomprehending and delusional radical worldview. Who is he in our Roman story? He is the combination of every shallow, vain, incompetent, impotent Consul to sit as magistrate over the Republic in the years of its collapse.
Now if you'll recall your history of the late Roman Republic you'll note that starting with Marius there were repeated bouts of political violence and civil war until some 50 years later an exhausted Rome fell into the arms of Octavian who would become Rome's first Emperor: Caesar Augustus. I get the real feeling that we are in the early stages of a modern version of this tragedy. Except our weapons can kill by the millions.
This is why I think it rather irrational to support and sustain an immense, continental scale centralized state ruled in effect by a single executive through unfireable lifetime apparatchiks that are largley unconstrained by a squabbling legislature and cowed judiciary. I am much more comfortable with most power being devolved to the states or the people. They might do stupid or cruel things but not all at once. The problem with strong men and women is that they're strong even when they're pandering, demented, corrupt or self righteous. The Federal Statists have gotten the form of government they've always wanted. I give them the joy of it.
Now. For God's sake, will someone please stop them before it's too late.
Monday, February 29, 2016
Are you still?
No. You are fairer still.
And filled with light and whimsy.
You wear beauty gently.
A gossamer gown flowing with light.
I stop. I stare and stutter.
Beauty overcomes and my joy is complete.
Where did such wondrous grace emerge?
What sorcerer conjured you from dust?
Twas God and Nature and Truth together.
For none could by themselves.
I revel in your shadow.
And wonder that you are my child.
No one deserves such bounty.
No man could hold such wealth.
All one can do is to love and be loved.
By that which cannot be possessed.
To love my own blood. To love you. My Amelia.
Friday, February 19, 2016
ATM Monopoly takes all of the fun out of the fraud
Monday, February 01, 2016
Fun with Foucalt - Jacques Lacan's Penis Edition
Lacan sought to give his deconstruction some methodical rigor with the following equation:
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Die drones, die?
Trying to be Tolerant of the Tykes New Toys in Texas. And Failing.