The Left claims to care deeply about what they view as the severe plight of racial minorities (or more accurately, certain racial minorities) in a systemically racist society. But the moment an individual member of one such minority group professes to have Conservative beliefs they become an object of utter contempt for the Leftist. What happened to all of his compassion? Is this person not still the target and victim of a systemically racist society? In fact should they not even be additionally sympathetic because they are oblivious to the dangers that they will inevitably face and are therefore even more vulnerable to them? They may be duly guilty of certain ideological crimes in the eyes of the Leftist; but cannot the same Leftist who calls for mercy and understanding for violent criminals within the penal system find sympathy in this case for those for whom he once had such great compassion?
On hearing that her elderly grandfather has just passed away, Katie goes straight to her grandparents’ house to visit her 95-year-old grandmother and comfort her. When she asks how her grandfather has died, her grandmother replies, “He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning.” Horrified, Katie tells her grandmother that two people nearly 100 years old having sex will surely be asking for trouble.
“Oh no, my dear. Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. It was nice, slow, and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the ding and out on the dong.” She pauses, wipes away a tear and then continues, “And if that damned ice cream truck hadn’t come along, he’d still be alive.
Robert Johnson and His Deal with the Devil
Robert Johnson, or at least the mythical version of him, is pervasive in American pop culture. He is considered a “Faustian” character, which essentially means the story surrounding him involves making a deal with Mephistopheles (a demon) or Satan himself. Deals like these typically were said to take place at crossroads, often seen as a metaphorical or actual liminal space, a place where change happens.
The legend goes that Johnson fell distraught after his first wife died in childbirth and he turned to his love of music to cope but he was horrible at the guitar with an unpleasant voice. Johnson was said to have disappeared for a length of time and then returned with great musical skill and a wonderful, mournful singing voice. At a crossroads, marked with the three guitar statue (above), Johnson supposedly met a man who gave him these abilities–in return for his soul. People point to some of his songs like “Cross Road Blues” and “Hell Hound on My Trail” as evidence that he had made the deal with the devil and the hellhounds were there to collect.
Johnson only recorded three records and died at the age of 27 in 1938 due to “mysterious” stomach pains. Of course, the legend would have us believe that the Devil had come to collect his dues. Most people, however, believe that he was poisoned (one way or another) due to flirting with or having an affair with a married woman. Either way, he died very young after putting out only a little bit of music and had only a couple of photos ever taken of him. He’s a figure shrouded in mystery due to how little is known about him but he lives on in our collective imagination, still recognized as the King of the Delta Blues.
I believe in equality of OPPORTUNITY, not equality of outcome. Equality of outcome is nothing more than participation ribbons (you see where that generation is heading).
It’s human nature to want to succeed. Competition is in our DNA. If someone hit a caveman with a rock his first instinct would have been to find a bigger rock to strike back with. If everyone had the same income, the same house, the same car no matter what they did in life they would feel like a failure. The desire to better our situation has been the driving force behind every invention and innovation. Yes, a lot of them did better the entire world but most of them were a means to better the situation for an individual or small group.
Anyone that promises to “give” you everything that you need to survive isn’t looking to help you, they’re looking to CONTROL you. They aren’t looking out for your best interest, they’re looking out for their own best interest. Absolutely nothing is free. Everything has a cost. If you’re willing to take what others have earned then you’re a thief. If you’re willing to forcibly take what others have earned then you’re not a savior, you’re a tyrant.
Throughout history it has been shown that people are much more generous and willing to help those that can’t help themselves if they’re allowed to do it voluntarily. Not to mention that if they have more money to give (a.k.a. not taxed to death) they give it more freely.
Every socialist country has proven that socialism does not work and it only breeds corruption, tyranny and strife. Capitalist countries have done more to better the human condition, especially this great nation we call the U.S.A.
I’m not claiming that our country is perfect. It never has been. But, having the freedom and desire to better ourselves has brought us back from hardships, wars and epidemics. We literally built this great nation from the ground up.
The American spirit will not be pushed aside. It will not die. I truly believe this with every cell in my body. I will defend it with my voice, my hands, my guns and my life.
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CLUSTERFUCK NATION – BLOGAugust 7, 2020
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If this (first?) summer of Covid-19 has revealed anything about the current version of civilization, it’s the profound exhaustion of a culture reduced to going through the motions of its once-vital activities. A lot of things that we hope will come back are probably gone forever in the form we knew them, though they will eventually return in another configuration, reduced in scale, but perhaps finer in quality.
I miss baseball horribly, and its sad, half-assed attempt to present a rump season with no live bodies in the seats only amplifies the loss. But then, I haven’t gone to a stadium in twenty years, and I certainly won’t pay a hundred bucks or more to sit in Fenway Park. I used to go to night games there all the time when I was a starving bohemian writing for the Boston hippie newspapers back in 1972. You could get a decent field-level seat behind first base for five bucks. When I was a kid in Manhattan in 1960, a bleacher seat in the old Yankee Stadium was a quarter (plus 30 cents round-trip on the IRT subway).
They weren’t writing $100-million-plus player contracts until fairly recently, either, and of course that’s been a symptom of pro sports’ slide into fatal decadence. If baseball does try to stage a full season in 2021 or 2022, they will not be selling many hundred-dollar seats to an economically demolished middle-class. The teams will be functionally bankrupt by then and if they survive restructuring, there won’t be many million-dollar players. Maybe none. Carl Furillo, the veteran right-fielder for the 1955 World Series champion Brooklyn Dodgers, used to work construction in the off-season. He was on the crew that built New York’s Verrazano Narrows Bridge. Imagine Mike Trout hanging sheet-rock (if sheet-rock even exists as a product a few years from now).
I can imagine baseball reorganizing into two separate East and West leagues for a while, to reduce costly airplane travel, but even that might not last very long. If pro sports survives the political turmoil ahead, it will come out the other side as a strictly local and regional thing — and that will be the theme for all the things we like to do and must do. The idiocy of pro football will not survive at all. Its farm system (college sports) will be long gone.
Higher education committed suicide with its dual racketeering model. First was the college loan racket, in which schools colluded with the federal government to jam too many “customers” through the pipeline who didn’t belong there, and who buried themselves under a lifetime debt obligation they could never escape. The second was the intellectual racket of creating sham fields of study that contaminated all the other “humanities” with poisonous bullshit theory, and eventually even invaded the STEM disciplines. Covid-19 screwed the pooch on all that, scotching the four-year party-hearty in-residence part of the deal. For now, who needs an online class in Contemporary Sexual Transgression ($2000-a-credit) when you can just click on Porn-hub for free? Hundreds of colleges and universities will be going out of business in the years ahead.
The outlook for the big centralized high schools is also pretty dark. The teachers’ unions’ insatiable needs are only part of the picture. Consolidating many smaller schools to save on administrative costs seemed like a good idea at the time. But we ended up with thousands of gigantic schools that looked like insecticide factories and felt like minimum security prisons. They all depend on the costly yellow bus fleets to collect the kids from far and wide. The whole scheme ended up as an elaborate day-care operation that actually retarded the development of young people into functional, autonomous adults.
Covid-19 and the economic collapse it triggered will put an end to all that. How will the school districts cope with an epic loss of tax revenue from all the homeowners defaulting on their mortgages? They won’t. Schooling will have to reorganize, and probably at a very grassroots level, with home-schools evolving into neighbor-pods of tiny schools, and only among parents who have the literacy and numeracy to pull it off. We’ll be lucky if, years from now, we’ll see something like local academies spring up that can handle a few hundred students. I’d also warn you about assuming that the Internet is a permanent installation of the human condition. It depends utterly on a pretty fragile electric grid. We do, after all, have libraries, and maybe they can be persuaded to stop trying to get rid of all their books.
These Covid months have prompted Americans to pass the idle hours of joblessness and anomie with Hollywood’s canned entertainments. Could that all be over, too? The theaters were already sucking wind before the virus landed — relying on an ever more brain-dead repetition of comic book movies — while the quality product moved to Cable TV. Now that’s saturated, with the newer product fermenting into garbage. But who is going to keep paying for all that with unemployment at 30 percent, and moving higher?
Are you already bored out of your skull with reruns of the old classics? People truly need narrative art forms to make sense of reality, but they have to be tuned to the times we live in. My bet would be on the eventual return of live theater on local stages for original stories keyed to the new post-collapse reality — which will not be understood via Star Wars or Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Broadway is finished, with its endless reiterations of old hits, and also, of course, because New York City itself is only beginning a long journey down the drain before it can be reorganized into a functioning entrepôt. I’ve got half a mind to invest in an outfit that can put on puppet shows in my little flyover town.
As you can surely tell by now, the trend is local and smaller for all of these things. That may even be true for national elections and the venerable thing called the United States of America. The Democratic Party was initially only striving for mere suicide, but lately it looks like they want to destroy the country altogether — and they may succeed beyond their wildest dreams. Fifty years from now, several separate American nations may be sending their own regional baseball league champions to some kind of World Series, if we’re not still at war with each other.