Living In The Past

*These columns can’t find much traction lately. Short stories may just be the answer. For now, it’s an esoteric gripe. And this one runs a day early! You’re welcome.

Living in the past. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Several folks who watch the show have applauded some of my boring old stories about life in America before it was ruined. Cheap donuts. Aluminum Christmas trees. Peppermints in banks that paid interest on accounts. Tacky furniture and cigarette smoke. Norman Rockwell kind of things. I know that these good people also remember, and that is well. 

Why do we do it? Psychologists who study nostalgia suggest it may have to do with remembering a brighter past as compared to a perceived unfavorable present. To that, many a moron will add, stupidly and blindly, something about greener grass or things being what one makes of them. Silence, fools. Some of us will not live by the first law of “Brave New World.”

For those who caught the very end of it, life in civilized Columbia was better – by far – than what passes for existence in our fear-based, post-modern circus. 

I prefer remembering a time when I saw my people wherever I went as opposed to watching their numbers decrease at an accelerating pace. 2020 was a terrible year; we suffered a net loss of some 627,000 White Heritage Americans. 2021 looks to be even bleaker. Based on the very limited information now trickling out, it would not surprise your author if we said farewell to another 1 – 2 million of our kind.

Those who remain are what? Fat, mentally-ill, retarded, drunken, hedonistic heathens? At times, it seems so.

And they are being replaced – that is the only word that fits – by a host of boisterous, even duller-witted primitives who, in all the history of the Earth, have demonstrated zero ability to build or maintain any semblance of civilization.

All of them appear complacent if not happy being lorded over by wicked tribalists who literally worship the devil. 

Find a real member of the Posterity, or his Irish, German, or Italian proxy, tell him any of the foregoing, and watch as the wicked idiocy runs through his tired mind. Listen to his craven responses. “That sounds a certain way!” Good! “They’ll call you bad names!” Good! I have names for them too. “Yeah. We just need to get back to the [Constitution, Republic, Republican majority, Enlightenment fantasy, etc.].” Go with the pine box. It degrades faster. Be useful for once!

If you’ve not made any resolutions for this new year in the new abnormal, then might I suggest a few? Try ditching the fear, degeneracy, and willful stupidity. If you’re in but not of the World, at least act like it. In the meantime, I am more than happy to reminisce about a world that no longer exists. I also have fictional worlds I control. Those need more attention this year. If you are literate, feel free to read along.

And, the real future? It could be bright if some would put forth a little effort. Who knows?

I come not to praise Utoya but to cleanse it.