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COLUMN: Beating A Dead Horse In Memphis

01 Wednesday Feb 2023

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Beating A Dead Horse In Memphis

 

While it may be a horrible way to open Black History Month, I’ve decided to comment on the recent death of Tyre Nichols. Happy Black History Month.

Memphis, what the hell? I was told in the summer of 2021, after gremlin-like graverobbers disinterred Gen. Nathan B. and Mrs. Mary Forrest, that all problems in the city were solved forever. Speaking to the Washington Times, (then) County Commissioner Van Turner said that vandalizing the remains of the noble dead “will serve as an example of what we can do to move this city forward. The reality of it is if we don’t come together we won’t have the city that we all love.” The Forrests were shipped out of town, the General’s statue was toppled, and Forrest Park was renamed something like “Tutsi-Hutu Peace Love and Moving Forward Park.”

Where to start? I was unaware of the fiasco until the middle of last week when someone on Social Galactic posted an alert about the pending video release and the risk of unrest. Last Friday, for whatever reason I watched the videos. They are tedious and unpleasant, and I don’t recommend anyone else do the same. We’ve seen this show before, in Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Charlotte, and elsewhere. Many questions are raised, not that we may ever have comprehensive answers for them. Why did MPD initiate the traffic stop? Was Nichols “on something,” as reported by one of the officers? Who the hell trained the officers? Will there be any semblance of justice? Is justice even conceptually possible at this point? What do they smoke, in certain quarters, to find White supremacy in this tragedy? And more. Ubiquitously, I must say, based on the little I saw and know, Nichols did not deserve such a violent ending. Hopefully, he is at peace, and hopefully, something positive may be gleaned from his death. I, for one, am not holding my breath.

Nichols was a Black man. All five of the MPD officers who subdued and beat Nichols were Black. Nathan Bedford Forrest has been dead for 146 years. Most of the gaggle of officers who gathered at the scene in the aftermath of the beating were black. Forrest’s statuary horse was absent, as was the CSA 7th Tennessee Cav. Memphis is supermajority Black. There were no noticeable signs of Klan activity. So, naturally, some of the usual suspects tell us this affair is the result of White racism, supremacy, time-traveling, or elven magic. Their tiresome monomania, like others, isn’t even worth the shrugging of one’s shoulders. Things are what they are.

The United States, what’s left of them, are not the same as they were, not twenty years ago, and certainly not seventy years ago. Tennessee, still one of the Whitest Southern States, is only about 70% White. That’s down from 79% in 2000 and 84% in 1970. Shelby County is only 34% White; it has been minority White and majority Black for most of this century. Memphis is a mere 24% White, down from about 40% the last time I was there, 50% the first time I visited, and 63% in 1950. Demographically, the city begins to resemble Harare.

The transformation of Memphis is representative of many other major US cities, and imminently predictive of the future of the country as a whole. I don’t think any honest sociologist or anthropologist can anymore classify the US as a First-World country. It isn’t fully Third World, in the modern socioeconomic, and not the original political sense of the words, though it is steadily marching that way. We are, at present, in the middle, though still tethered by a fraying thread to European civilization. That thread will break soon.

The US is no longer a Christian country, by anyone’s definition, outside of the purely and nominally titular. By the end of this decade, it will cease to be a majority White European country. And it will most likely cease to be a unified political entity – which is the better outcome of the four great plausible possibilities. 

Today, Memphis is our microcosm, a compressed slide under examination. And what happened in the city was to be expected. People build and maintain cities that suit their culture and heritage. Given the chance, they revert to their ancestral traditions. Europeans build and run European cities. Africans run African cities. Ditto for Asians, Hispanics, and on, and on. Some, it is plainly observed, function differently than others. Average general intelligence, as measured by IQ, is a reliable indicator of how well societies function as measured by things like crime, justice, poverty, beauty, and contentment. The established cutoff for maintenance and preservation of advanced, modern standards of living is 90 (assumed WAIS or SB). Based on a cursory averaging by a weighted distribution of the available population groups, Memphis has an average IQ below 89. In technical terms, that is “not good,” but it does help explain the unfolding chaos.

Those who live in diverse areas, if they’re not going to relocate soon, need to adjust their expectations. This is how things are, like them or not, and they are worsening. History provides guide after guide to our present and near-future conditions. A suitable title for a sequel to Jared Taylor’s 2017 book If We Do Nothing, might as well be Because We Did Nothing. Yes, the reality is a little worse than that, as instead of doing nothing we did the wrong things. 

It is distinctly possible that, if they don’t already, all peoples in the US may come to regret the transformation and decline. I am least sure about the attitudes of Asians and Hispanics, as their in-group preferences are generally so strong as to override many external concerns. Many Whites are currently either too timid or too stupid to admit what has happened. That will change. Likewise, most Blacks, even as many begin to silently doubt and question, are not quite ready to recognize reality. They will. Their kin in southern Africa, many of them, by way of comparison, already do.

The late Dr. Walter E. Williams wrote authoritatively about the shift from the woes of Blacks under Apartheid in South Africa to their joys under modern democracy. Statistically and observably, many were before off when they were second-class citizens in what was at least a first-class nation. He was not alone in his determination. Other videos are readily available that show exactly how Black police officers in SA treat Black suspects (they are not for the faint-hearted). There’s always hope, and not that most Westerners will notice it, but 2023 may be the year that Black-ruled SA begins to prove itself a worthy modern society. If one is interested, and again, most are not, then watch Cyril Ramaphosa’s work this year, particularly in two areas. First, he takes the helm of BRICS+ this year, and he’s already showing some signs of determination to pursue greatness. Second, if a certain plan goes through, watch what he may do with (not to) White farmers in SA, in conjunction with other African countries. Time will tell.

Another example of life in the aftermath comes from the former Rhodesia. I read somewhere that Ian Smith reported the strangest thing happening later in his life. My reading of the report was confirmed by a great man who once personally knew Smith. At intervals, frequently at night, Smith would find himself swarmed by a horde of mostly older Black Zimbabwean men, who would beg him to return to power and save the nation from Mugabe and the ZANU. While he developed a heartfelt, grieving connection with the disaffected majority, he, of course, was if anything simply too old to act. Yet, hope persists. Mugabe is dead and gone, and a new generation in Harare may be interested in accompanying the Sovereign World forward. Let’s, today, call it a “lions for tractors” interest.

There are lessons to learn from all of this, but we don’t really do that anymore. Active discussions need to happen, along with more than a little planning. But we don’t do those things well either. Talking to White Americans, including many Southerners, is a lot like talking to Black Americans, which is very much like talking to the ghost of Old Roderick. I only talk to living horses, so I’m letting this drop right now.

Shifting gears, a few other, semi-related matters have stormed into my attention zone. Whether people notice them and prepare for them or not, things are moving. My digital friend Andrei Raevsky, The Saker, is closing his blog this month. This will have the effect of limiting some of the best information on the web about global affairs, but it will also hopefully prevent Andrei from telling the right kind of truth in the wrong kind of dying empire. The ominous translation: this shit is about to get heavy. I look for three major fronts to break wide open in our current World War, possibly in coordination, very soon, though I cannot calculate exactly when “soon” is. 

Russia is probably about to steamroll what’s left of Ukraine. The only question is where they will stop. Remember that no part of NATO is out of the MOD’s range. Also, I expect China to do something. It may or may not be something regarding Taiwan. And, there’s Iran. Last weekend, I wondered why Israel risked such a pathetic and ultimately futile attack on Iran. Then I learned about the arrival of the 24 SU-35s (very good air defense jet fighters) in Iran from Russia. 40 more are coming, and they are bringing multiple S-400 systems (the best world’s best AD missile system, excepting only other, more advanced Russian systems) with them. Later, this year or next, once the assembly lines are cranking out the export models at speed, a squadron of SU-57s (best jet fighters in the world) is also on order. These new weapons, along with Iran’s house developments of the past two decades, mean that the balance of power has changed in the Middle East. This also disproves a little of the NATO-MSM BS about Russia running out of arms. Russia has twelve times the military productive capacity (the thing that wins modern wars) than all of NATO, including the satanic states. Russia also makes more missiles of all kinds than the entire rest of the world combined. Thus they can afford to sell hefty quantities abroad while still kicking the mess out of the satanic world disorder.

Iran has suffered attack after attack, for years now, from Israel and the satanic states. The yankees got stomped flat back in January 2020 (Go, I-RAN!). Iran will retaliate again. I now almost half expect, again possibly timed in conjunction with Sino-Russian offenses, that Tehran will directly attack IDF assets and national power infrastructure in Israel. Many of the pre-targeted (I’ve seen the maps) facilities are located in urban areas. Iran may be about to do to Israel what Israel has done to Gaza. They indeed have the means and the provoked reasons. 

There may be other fronts as well. If, or when all of this happens, I will lament that one of those other fronts isn’t a little closer to home. Imagine, just for a second, what Forrest could accomplish with just the three aforementioned modern weapon systems. But unlike others, many of my people cannot be bothered with even the idea of preparation. And again, I do not talk to dead horses. At least the wicked rulers of the USSA will lose WW3. Come what may.

*Author’s Note: In the very likely scenario that the forces occupying my nation declare formal or informal war on the Christians of Russia or the noble people of China, Iran, or elsewhere, I will cease writing about such martial matters. My situation is slightly different from Andrei’s and I do not have to necessarily cease all operations. Accordingly, rather than report war news that few read or understand but which might anger certain annoying parties, I will instead start presenting weekly installments of a new fictional fantasy series that I’ll create on the fly. Any resemblance between the affairs in my totally fictional world and those of our reality will be completely intentional.

Deo vindice!

COLUMN: Teaching The Trivium: A Review

25 Wednesday Jan 2023

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Teaching The Trivium: A Review

 

Dear readers, our topic for today is one of the most important books of this century: Teaching the Trivium: Christian Homeschooling in a Classical Style, Harvey and Laurie (RIP) Bluedorn, Trivium Pursuit, Muscatine, Iowa (2001). If my review drives home nothing else, then I must at least emphasize that this book is critical to those who either have young children or who intend to have young children. It’s also important for those with older children, or grandchildren, along with those who have no children, or those who only want to further their own intellectual development. It is a cogent defense of and general plan for preserving high Christian Civilization. 

Do not send children to schools. Let that stand as my second critical point. Please take all contrary excuses and burn them. I am angered by the fact that generation after generation of our children (this includes you, your children, your grandchildren, your parents, and even your grandparents) have been, are being, or will be misled or forced into the same trap. Most people do not realize what they’ve missed and what we’ve collectively lost. Teaching the Trivium sheds a bright light on this tragedy while offering a wonderful escape from it. 

When I finally sat down with the book and started thumbing through it, I was struck by how comprehensive the Table of Contents alone is, and how much the relayed organizational wisdom differs from what passes for institutional educational doctrine. For purposes of commentary, I reproduce a small segment, for Chapter One:

(Bluedorns, Trivium, page 11).

Contrast any part of the foregoing with what passes for valuable systemic pedagogy in, say, fag queen pedo hour, a horror with a purpose even conservatives finally begin to notice.

Perhaps the greatest veritas of this partial page is the line: “All true education must begin with the revelation of God.” The entirety of the text is a roadmap for implementing proper Holy education. One of the tell-tale Hasbara one-star reviews I read at Amazon, while subtly chastising Christianity, stupidly lamented the lack of a comprehensive, easy, ready-to-go curriculum. “Breaking out of the mold” means just that; this is a task that no formal syllabus is capable of adequately presenting or fostering. As a guide, it is an extensive map of a long, meandering road – one well worth the effort. The Table of Contents is fourteen pages, and it sets a better cursory direction than any other work I have ever seen. It covers everything from the Christian formation of the nuclear family to fueling the family by having children, to raising children, to shielding children from the evil of the world, to properly coaching children through grammar, logic, and rhetoric, to successfully sending children forth on their most important earthly endeavor – having and raising more children. The whole matter is a testament to God’s plan; the “conventional-minded” detractions I’ve read are also, negatively and indirectly, testaments to His intention. 

The Bluedorns note, on page 34, “Education is for a purpose. If the purpose does not have God in view, then it is  godless education, and it will eventually produce godless results.” They also maintain, correctly, that the only real education begins with, and consistently maintains, the revelations of Almighty God. One may be aware that in the USSA, God has been banned from schools and from the larger society, and the result has been a kind of hell on earth. The book also does a masterful job of clarifying and interweaving the Greco-Roman classical model of learning with that of fundamental Christianity. In that context, their wise view of the purpose of education does not so widely differ from Old Tully’s: “The purpose of schooling is to free the student from the tyranny of the present.” For a century and a half, our wicked, stupid culture has dispensed with all such wisdom, with our schools becoming the tyranny of the present.

With very few exceptions, homeschooling children, under the authority of the family, is not only the best way to educate the young, but it is the only way that fulfills various Biblical commandments. That may be the key takeaway from the book, along with the general “how-to” structure of the curriculum. It offers a one-size-fits-one approach; the exact Bluedorn route might be slightly different from mine, as mine might be from yours. This is fine and, in fact, great for us, but it is anathema to the luciferian status quo. And make no mistake, the schools, by design, are satanically evil. They were always that way, literally instituted to turn people into wage slaves, dumb down the population, terminate the family unit, and destroy Christian Western civilization. They have been extremely successful, an Enlightenment gift that keeps on killing. They cannot be fixed unless the fixing involves a Caterpillar D9 and an ample quantity of fire. But my own experience, and likely the reader’s, is almost exclusively set within the confines of the unnatural, anti-traditional, and unproductive K-12 classrooms. We are to be forgiven then, or at least a little lenient with ourselves, as we think about the schools and about saving future generations from them. 

To properly assess the wickedness of the schools is to ultimately dismiss them. Perhaps the best words to that end belong to Anthony Esolen. “There are only two things wrong with our schools: everything that our children don’t learn there and everything they do.” Esolen, Out of the Ashes, page 68 (another must-read). The Bluedorns partly refer to this as teaching trivia instead of the trivium, coddling along with pre-packaged nothing facts rather than teaching the elemental processes of thinking. This maleducation is a grievous sin. It also fails even by its own pitiful metrics.

The cat is out of the bag that the USSA’s school systems produce results, in all areas, far below other developed, or even developing countries – even as compared to foreign systematized schools. George Carlin summed it up well when he said “they” only want people who are “just smart enough to run the machines and do the paperwork, and just dumb enough to passively accept [all the Carlin-Esque explicatives]”. Again, the schools have not failed in their intended purposes. They have worked almost perfectly. And that near-perfect working literally kills real learning and any notion of legitimate education. The Bluedorns have a subsection about this phenomenon called “Regressive Learning,” pages 97 – 98. They’re not alone.

The late, great John Taylor Gatto went into some depth with this lurid concept in his 2009 book, Weapons of Mass Instruction (read it too). Gatto noted, as early as 1990, that homeschooled children were five to ten years ahead of their state-abused peers. Things have become much worse since then. In addition to noting the disparity and that compulsory schooling indisputably lowers things like literacy rates, he focused on a little-known university study about university studies (the UCONN study_. Read all about “Another Inconvenient Truth,” pages 37 -38, and how roughly half of the colleges in the USSA teach nothing and the other half force negative learning on their victims. 

I’ve added to this sad observation, elsewhere, by tracking mathematical failure, in a Georgia school system, from elementary (14% math proficiency), to middle (11.9%), to high school (7%). From end to end, our worse-than-useless schools reverse learning. Frequently, the longer a child is in school, and the more he is instructed, the less he will know. 

Something like eighty to ninety percent of US schoolchildren are doomed to languish in evil government-run schools. Roughly ten percent (my hasty estimate) attend private schools, of one degree of value or another (most increasingly dreadful as they conform to public expectations). Around five to ten percent of our kids, the homeschooled champions, receive one degree of real education or another. I once said that the C19 Hoax was the best thing that ever happened to the schools because it temporarily closed them. No education is better than maleducation! And, happily, a few more parents woke up and started allowing their children to learn. Still, the hyper-majority of them continue to send their precious young off to indoctrination and grooming centers. For that, they should perhaps be horse-whipped. Or, perhaps, forgiven. They either don’t understand the importance of education, or else they just don’t care.

But the other side does care about homeschooling if malice counts as caring. The nefarious educrats, most of whom deserve to be burned at the stake, know that the valid alternative of home education not only makes them and their evil work look like what it is, but they also know that homeschoolers, like latter-day monks in little, quiet monasteries, hold the potential to carry the seeds of civilization through the spreading fires. Therefore, the acolytes of the devil’s enlightenment hate with a passion the ordinary Christian families who properly raise and teach their children. These low, crawling Deevs make war on noble homeschoolers. Know their intentions and actively resist them.

Chapter two is an exposition of why the family, and certainly not the state, has genuine authority to educate children. Subsequent chapters explain what, exactly, that entails, along with how to go about doing it. For most of us, this is foreign territory. For instance, while we may associate classical grammar with Latin instruction, too many of us would neglect Greek. I, for one, was somewhat surprised by the logical and forceful arguments for including Hebrew studies as well. 

The recommended course of instruction is broken down by age and ability levels, and also by sex differences. The book assumes that some or most parents will not have anything but a rudimentary understanding of what they are teaching their children. Rather than viewing this deficiency as an obstacle, it is presented as a great opportunity, with the adults gaining a real education alongside their children. As many autodidacts have discovered, it is never too late to learn. The Bluedorns note that as many as three generations of homeschoolers may be required before parent instructors are masters of the material they present. Happily, those who started early are now one generation into the new era. May many more follow the trailblazers. 

The Appendixes are almost 200 pages of relevant articles and resources, beginning with The Lost Tools of Learning by Dorothy Sayers (1947). In short, there is something for everyone within these immaculate 600+ pages of encouragement and wisdom. Some of it may appear unusual, but all of it is unusually beneficial. Several myths, even as held by general homeschool advocates, are dispelled. For instance, my understanding of the theory of “un-schooling” was misplaced, barring, I still suppose, exceptional circumstances. Read chapter ten to understand why. And there are so many more topics even the intelligent and curious might not have independently fathomed. 

Personally, I have already taken one such lesson to heart: “Protecting a Child in the Library”, page 325: “Libraries have become dangerous places for children. The covers alone on some books on display are very wicked.” This was observed over a decade before the pedo queers in dresses and clown makeup first polluted the library assembly rooms. But it was observably true, just as to the book covers, and it was so at the beginning of this century as well as at the end of the last one. Therefore, I have resolved that no book cover of mine, regardless of subject, shall ever appear risque or salacious, to say nothing of appearing “wicked.” I am proud to say that no existing cover of mine risks contributing to this problem, though I had never reflected on the possibility; however, having now reflected, I intend to keep it that way. The odds are that no matter who one is, one will find something of interest and value, even if it is something as mundane as my example. If one happens to have young children, then the odds are one will be walking into a goldmine with Teaching the Trivium. I still have never developed a rating system, therefore I will merely mark this book as an absolute must-read. Read it!

And, if one has a little extra time, then I have another book to recommend – and it’s a short one: Christian Nationalism, Andrew Torba and Andre Isker, GAB AI, Inc. (2022). It’s not perfect, but it is one heck of a statement in defense of Christendom in the post-modern age. Among other things, it provides a list of the official state religions, through time, of the several sovereign American States (one will note that they all fell away by the latter half of the 19th century when the unofficial religion of the US Empire was instituted), and a rebuke of the heretical nonsense of the “Judeo-Christian” idea. 

Read, read often, and teach your children a love of reading. Deus vult.

Deo vindice!

Anniversaries

23 Monday Jan 2023

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Boy, do we have a few, here, now and around the corner.

For instance, we just past the 8th anniversary of perrinlovett -dot- me, starting to use the “me”. I’m still waiting on the pirate ransom on -dot- com to come down a little. This marked the beginning of an eight year run of consistency that continues to this very day. It’s also almost the tenth anniversary of the true start here, back in 2013. The old blog’s overall 11th birthday is coming in June. Between now and then, we’ll cross the 10th anniversary of my observations of the 20th anniversary of something else.

Thanks for being along for the ride. We’ve a ways to go yet.

P

COLUMN: How About Murder? Why Them Young Kids Won’t Work! And More

18 Wednesday Jan 2023

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How About Murder? Why Them Young Kids Won’t Work! And More

 

Hello, frens and feds. We’re going to have a little lesson about economics and civilization. I owe the immediate inspirational credit (or blame) to two recent happenings. Somewhere around here, a brilliant young woman wrote: “The comfortable, easy First World the Boomers lived in is dying with them.” And last week, I found myself out amongst the people, where I overheard part of a conversation between two Boomers.

They were talking about labor, and one asked, in a haughty Boomerific tone, why the Millennials, the younger “kids,” won’t work (you know, like his g-g-generation did back in the good old days when they were getting high and rolling in the mud at Woodstock). The other one started saying something about “handouts.”

Walking away, leaving the callous to their heathenry, I thought of a tripartite answer. First, the “kids” were not raised properly. As for the Millennials, the fault lies with their wicked, stupid parents, the Boomers. And we’re only talking about half of Gen Y because the Boomers preemptively murdered the other half, along with a sizeable portion of my generation, with their abortion genocide. As to the disemployment issue among the survivors, the second reason is that the Millennials were not raised in a functioning Christian culture. Few people alive today in the West have even the vaguest idea of what we’re missing. And third, virtually no employers in the US pay anywhere near an appropriate wage. While all three reasons are related, we will primarily concentrate herein on the third.

In the abstract, Lord Boomer was correct that many people, of all ages, are less enthusiastic about working these days. The Wall Street Journal recently reported that the seeming phenomenon of those who do work working less is real. This has A LOT to do with poor remuneration. Better pay is driving 96%!!! of US employees to look for new jobs this year, says CNBC. This trend carries across the Atlantic, where, as one might guess, the globalist witch Christine Legarde warns that wages must be suppressed in order to suppress inflation (which is at best misplaced illogic). All of this – ALL OF THIS – is deeply dysgenic and dyscivilizational. The Daily Mail reports the obvious, that Americans are simply no longer having children and building families. There is the fact that so many younger Americans were coerced into taking a depopulation sterilant poison, but there’s also the fact that they can no longer afford to have children. 

“Socialism” is to blame, friends. That is if retards like the woman who wrote an article in a third-tier ‘Murican daily I won’t link to are to be believed. They are not, as this particular idiot echoed the other Boomer’s stupid assertion that the “kids” were content to live large off of imperial handouts. There’s been much babbling about that nonsense these past few years. If you’d like, then just run the math on it. From any direction. It does not add up. Increasingly, nothing adds up in our play-pretend world. 

The dim woman linked to a base article from Moneywise (which isn’t): “Here’s the average salary each generation says they need to feel ‘financially healthy.’ Gen Z requires a whopping $171K/year — but how do your own expectations compare?” Boomers, Gen Z is the younger, newer generation that you’re mistakenly calling “Millennials.” I’ll tell you my macro salary expectations in a moment.

The Money Unwise bit starts with a ridiculous lie: “As the global COVID-19 pandemic rages on…“ Three years later, they’re still spinning the hoax. It doesn’t get any better as it goes through a little nothing before advising readers to “deal with your debt first.” That’s the main gist of the article – an advertisement for usury (thank you, Shylock). And what debts might the Zoomers carry at present? Student loans! Fake debts for fake education in a fake, gay country. It’s all part of the fable told to generations of Americans about schools (fake), colleges (fake), good jobs (fake), good money (fake), and retirement (sigh). The Atlantic, a publication that floated an early trial balloon for cannibalism, is baffled that many “kids” are skipping college; see an article rehashed here. In fairness, that one is by a professor who appears legitimately concerned about younger generations and higher education. And without correctly addressing the problem, it does at least mention the debts as somewhat problematic. Boy, aren’t they? Debt, of all kinds, constitutes one of the 3 “D”s that destroyed America, the other two being democracy and demographics. 

The damage caused by debt was intentional, and it is massive. America’s being a financialized or credit-based economy, debts have replaced money, at least as money is properly defined. There are books about this transformation, but not that many will read them. In 2014, the Bank of England produced this charming summary of how the scheme works. It is a trans-Atlantic issue:

If all the bank loans were paid, no one could have a bank deposit, and there would not be a dollar of coin or currency in circulation. This is a staggering thought. We are completely dependent on the commercial Banks. Someone has to borrow every dollar we have in circulation, cash or credit. If the Banks create ample synthetic money we are prosperous; if not, we starve. We are absolutely without a permanent money system. When one gets a complete grasp of the picture, the tragic absurdity of our hopeless position is almost incredible, but there it is. It is the most important subject intelligent persons can investigate and reflect upon. It is so important that our present civilization may collapse unless it becomes widely understood and the defects remedied very soon.

    • Robert H. Hemphill, Atlanta Federal Reserve, 2014.

Just know that, by the traditional definition, there is statistically zero money in the US economy. Explaining this is a chore, because it’s so simple it appears impossibly difficult, and because the system is in such bad shape that the available metrics are fuzzy at best. According to the yankee treasury, there is something like 800 million (with an “m”) US Dollars. Period. These are off-limits to the public. They are, for all intents and purposes, the only real money in the economy. Most of the M-series monetary base(s), as lazily estimated by the Fed, somewhere between 20 and 40 trillion dollars (with a “t”), consists of a precariously rigged carrying of uncle sucker’s public, on-books debts. It also plausibly includes the < $2 trillion available in coinage and paper cash. This is our fiat currency, though it leans towards being fake fiat, or, like the remaining portions, and in other terminology, “credit money substitute” “money.” And, so, where is the rest? And, what?

Derivatives. That is a catch-all term for a combined process and amalgamation that no one really understands. If you’ve read The Creature From Jekyll Island – and you should have – then know that it amounts to the “Mandrake Mechanism” on steroids, running at warp speed, down the rabbit hole. This is where the vast majority of what passes for money, in reality, it is little more than fake debts or bets on or against payment of fake debts, falls. We have no way to accurately measure it, though the best guesses lie between $800 trillion and $2 quadrillion (that is a “q”). It’s all fake. It’s based on debt contracts. It’s backed by nothing. And it is satanically evil. 

In a debt-based economy like ours, the bulk of the money for all purposes comes from loans. The money for the loans is literally created by the loans themselves *poof*. The lenders get to conjure this nonexistent crap out of a dark magic crystal, instantly and with no effort, cost, or risk of loss. The borrower gets to slave away, giving up some portion of his life in order to repay that which does not exist, along with the interest that does not exist. That is what people have stupidly accepted for a century, and it is why the First World of the Boomers is fading in the rear view mirror. The ratio of real money to fantasy money is roughly 1:1,000,000! .000001. Statistically, zero. This has had the effect of drastically raising the price of just about everything … except wages.

$300,000. Three hundred thousand dollars. That is my expectation for what the approximate average single-earner income should be right now. That would be, in a word, “fair.” It represents the appropriately adjusted average wage for all occupations across all regions of the US. On an hourly basis, assuming 2,000 working hours per year, that’s $150 per hour. Boomer, nobody pays wages like that. Zoomers, you’re only halfway to where you should be; keep hoping, but know the odds are not in your favor. The minimum wage should be around $31-37.50 per hour. Nobody pays that either, Boomer.

Way back in 1952, when the Boomers were young, and their parents resembled Ward and June, the average household income was around $6,850 per year ($3.425 per hour). The money generally came from one job, usually worked by the husband. He didn’t have to repay student loans, compete with H1Bs, or bear the brunt of world-policing reserve currency lunacy. His wife was free to raise a family. They all lived a nice life in a house that, on average, cost $9,075. The man’s income was 75% of the cost of the house. This was optimal, ideal even.

The minimum wage back then was somewhere between $.75 and $1 per hour. We’ll call it 25% of the ordinary hourly wage. This yielded a minimum annual salary of about $1,700. That was then. Today, the median individual income is roughly $37,500 per year or $18.75/hr. The median US household income is about $78,000, which generally assumes two adults are working, which is problematic in that it leaves no one at home to raise and educate (or even have) children. The minimum wage, stuck forever, nationally averages just $7.25/hr, or $14,500 per year. However, the average house, as of last summer (2022), costs about $400,000. Boomers will oftentimes boast that the astronomical rise in housing prices was due to their wise investing skills or some other unicorn magic. But those with decent math skills can immediately see a problem. Know that the extrapolation works about as well if one uses college tuition or other large ticket purchase items, or if one assumes a continuation of the Dollar’s link to gold and/or silver. In a just and equitable country, with the inflation of the past 70 years, 75% of $400,000 is $300,000. And 25% of 300K is $75,000, or $37.50 per hour. As-is, the average US household earns just a hair over what a single man should be earning with a minimum-wage job. As your calculator suggests, we have fallen behind. We’ve been steadily sliding since around the 1965-1973 timeframe (for reasons). Around 1970, the average salary was still about 40% of the cost of the average house. Today, do the math, it’s about 10%. And we will continue to slide unless or until something is done. Or until something gives – which it will, and damned soon. All of this was, again, intentional.

The wonderful Ms. Jessamine Lee was right about the golden age the Boomers enjoyed, looted, wrecked, and still won’t shut up about. Because the US survived the Second World War with the largest intact industrial base, because it was a homogenous society, and because the Dollar supplanted the Pound, those born between 1946 and 1964 entered into the height of prosperity. Peak America was likely around 1965, though the afterglow lasted for decades. If Boomers want everyone else to make $1.75 an hour as they did, and be happy about making it work, then maybe everyone else wants the demographics, stability, and prices of yesterday. 

I read somewhere that 10% of Americans were but one misstep away, and one-third were only a few steps away from homeless poverty. A large and growing number of people – real human beings, and Americans to boot – are faced with essentially living sad lives of meager slavery or simply dying of despair whether they work hard, 40, 50, or 70 hours a week, or not. Given such a horrible situation, who could blame them for taking the easier path? Part of the vaunted dignity of work comes from the livelihood work enables. Take away the ability to live, and the promise of dignity becomes hollow. While some exceptional individuals see these problems and actively try to forge solutions, it appears that the average Baby Boomer is content to spend his children’s inheritance and deny them the same entry to or existence in prosperity he was afforded – all while telling his children how worthless they are for following his pathetic advice and falling under the doom he helped create for them. For a pictorial of this sad phenomenon, please see this “Hypergamouse” episode by Lacey Fairchild, Arktoons (2022). 

It’s not a cartoon. Charts and studies a-plenty plainly show that Boomers acquired more wealth faster than any subsequent generation and that they are holding it in a historically anomalous bottleneck. Trying to explain this leads to the intent behind the collapse. Boomers were the last of the ordinary American beneficiaries of the changing socioeconomic system. Their reward was tangential. The bulk of all gains, per an ancient formula, went to an evil, foreign elite. Call them what one will, and one will probably be correct. But this isn’t socialism. It’s not communism. There’s nothing liberal or conservative or libertarian about it. Kindly purge those dated, failed concepts from your repertoire. What has happened is the convergence of financialization, Pharisaical religious disregard for humanity, and globalization. In other words, it is satanism. It always has been.

Debt, financialization, and reliance on credit substitute money are inherently unstable and almost always induce misery and collapse in any society foolish enough to tolerate them. In the words of Vox Day, March 24, 2020: “Financialization does not help the economy by making it more efficient. To the contrary, it makes the economy far more fragile while destroying the underlying society for the benefit of a few foreign invaders.” Regarding American monetary folly, he wrote, on April 15, 2020: “This is why either a debt jubilee or mass defaults and the total collapse of the US economy is absolutely inevitable.” Financialization, on the scale seen in the US since 1913, completely fulfills Gresham’s Law, with bad money routing good money, and leaving in its place a fake economy running downhill on fake credit. This has the insidious effect, as Vox hinted, of transferring ownership of most stores of real value to a useless parasite class; the people are left indebted, enslaved, and immiserated. See also: And Forgive Them Their Debts, Michael Hudson (2018); Debt: the First 5,000 Years, David Graeber (2011). 

Today’s is largely a Christian call to action based on the teachings of Jesus Christ and the Mosaic Law, particularly as to the word “jubilee”. Yet, the problems of debt have been known throughout history and to virtually all sufficiently advanced societies. Hudson’s book, Graeber’s, and others are replete with non-Christian and non-Hebraic examples of the manifestation of the plague of debt, and the just solution. Here follows a summary of my pre-existing analysis from August 31, 2022, with a few minor additions.

In or around 44 BC, Old Tully related an alleged conversation between the mighty Cato and a presumably ambitious young Patrician. The younger man was attempting to goad Cato into ratifying the man’s pre-selected occupation. The conversation is presented as an example of competing expediencies or comparative outward advantages. It did not go exactly as the young man had hoped.

To this class of comparisons belongs that famous saying of old Cato’s: when he was asked what was the most profitable feature of an estate, he replied: “Raising cattle successfully.” What next to that? “Raising cattle with fair success.” And next? “Raising cattle with but slight success.” And fourth? “Raising crops.” And when his questioner said, “How about money-lending?” Cato replied: “How about murder?”

-M.T. Cicero, De Officiis, II, § 89 (W. Miller) (Loeb, 1913).

Keep that response in mind: why did Cato equate money-lending with murder? 

What would Jesus Christ say about all of this? He said forgive it. “And forgive us our debts, as we have forgiven those who are in debt to us.” Matthew 6:12. And, per the Codex Sinaiticus (350 AD), in Greek, it was “debts” not trespasses. Some Christians and churches have transmuted that part of the Lord’s Prayer into “sins” rather than “debts.” That is somewhat understandable, though incomplete. Elsewhere in the Gospels, it’s: “…and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive each one who is in debt to us. …” Luke 11:3-4. Sin and debt go together, and both are forgiven upon righteous and humble request.

Jesus drove home the importance of forgiveness of debt, along with the punishment for refusing to forgive a debt, in the Parable of the Wicked Servant: 

Then the master sent for the man and said to him, “You wicked servant, I canceled all that debt of yours when you appealed to me. Were you not bound, then, to have pity on your fellow-servant just as I had pity on you?” And in his anger the master handed him over to the torturers till he should pay all his debt.

-Matthew 18:32-34.

Our Lord also inquired as to the nature of “the coin”:

‘Show Me the money you pay the tax with.’ They handed Him a denarius, and He said, ‘Whose portrait is this? Whose title?’ They replied, ‘Caesar’s.’ Then He said to them, ‘Very well, pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar – and God what belongs to God.’ When they heard this they were amazed; they left Him alone and went away.

-Matthew 22:19-22 (KJV)

We’re not so lucky; if only they would leave us alone. Of course, not long after that meeting and following a lecture on their paternity, these wayward leaders delivered the Son up for imperial judgment. There is, in this short passage, a lesson and a warning. Contrary to popular belief (or lack thereof), this dialogue is in no way an endorsement of taxation. Rather, Jesus exposed the Pharisees as blasphemous hypocrites. The coin in question was not a standard Imperial Roman model, it was a newly devised silver piece, especially for use by Tiberius and the elites of his day, and which bore allegiant inscriptions to both Athena and Augustus, the “living god.” To bring such money into the Temple – for any purpose – was a direct affront to Our Heavenly Father. Thus, Christ instructed that it stay with its proper debased and debasing owners. 

This was but one of the examples innumerable of ancient money substitutions – coin shaving, coin substitution, and numismatic treachery – throughout history. And again, it was no coincidence that this particular example happened concurrently with Roman expansion into the Levant, Gaul, Britannia, and other foreign spheres. It is unusual in that the replacement metal was of greater value than the ordinary bronze Denarius, a distinction erased as the years slipped by. Our own experience these past 100+ years has been a steady devaluation, from valuable metal-based currency to metal-linked paper, to paper, attractive yet worthless, and now, to ones and zeros in computers.

Luke 4:16-30 tells of Christ’s first Temple appearance as an adult in Nazareth. When given the chance, His first pronouncement was to announce a Jubilee in fulfillment of the Law. Also from His time in the Temple, we recall the only time the Prince of Peace ever resorted to violence, when He literally beat the fire out of the wicked money-lenders occupying His father’s House. John 2:13—. And as we are reminded that Christ came to fulfill rather than replace The Law, so His New Testament generally mirrors the Old. Forgiveness of debts stems from the Levitical (or Mosaic) Law and the Code of Legal Holiness. 

Leviticus, Chapter 25, concerns the Sabbatical Year and the Jubilee Year. Sabbatical years, which concern far more than debts, come every seventh year. Seven cycles of seven years, or forty-nine years, lead to the fiftieth year of Jubilee. The Sabbatical and the Jubilee may be thought of as minor and major resets. In years seven, fourteen, twenty-one, twenty-eight, thirty-five, forty-two, and forty-eight, as to debts, there is a “relaxation” or “remission.” 

At the end of every seven years, you must grant remission. The nature of the remission is as follows: any creditor holding a personal pledge obtained from his fellow must release him from it; he must not exploit his fellow or his brother once the latter has appealed to Yahweh for remission. A foreigner you may exploit, but you must remit whatever claim you have on your brother. There must, then, be no poor among you. For Yahweh will grant you his blessing in the country which Yahweh your God is giving you to possess as your heritage, only if you pay careful attention to the voice of Yahweh your God, by keeping and practicing all these commandments which I am enjoining on you today.

-Deuteronomy 15:1-5.

Note that the Lord, here, prescribed the debt-creditor remissions of His People of the day, the Israelites. The point of inclusivity is that among the Hebrews there was to be economic equality of a degree and that the blessings of God only extended to the degree His Laws were honored.

The Jubilee Year dealt with, in addition to the elimination of domestic debts, a complete ancestral and cultural reversion. See, Leviticus 25:8, et seq. Much of this law was exclusive to the Israelites and held, even as to them, some exceptions which might not apply to modern peoples, Christians, Karaites, or others (land within or without certain walled cities, for example). 

Leviticus also contains a strict prohibition against usury (one of several in the Pentateuch and the Old Testament) against fellow Israelites. “Do not charge [your brother or countryman] interest on a loan, but fear your God, and let your brother live with you.” Leviticus 25:36. For those who fail to fear and honor their God, Chapter 26 explains the rather exacting Punishments of Disobedience. These are the same punishments the Hebrews (and “Jews”) eventually succumbed to upon their rejection of Christ. The Talmudic inversion about the “dust of usury” and other such stupidities might as well be sentencing statements.

Christ came to fulfill, and in a way, simplify the laws which very few had been able to faithfully follow through the many long years. Interestingly, the forgiveness of debts survived to become a central tenet of the Lord’s Prayer. It is also interesting, though not exactly necessary to point out, that at all times, Jesus, His Father, Moses, Aaron, and everyone else were concerned with debts based on real money, whether commodities, silver Shekels, Roman silver, gold, etc. Usury was prohibited, even in conjunction with actual money with legitimate value in and of itself, as a sin. 

St. Thomas Aquinas examines the nature of the sin of usury, in Question 78 of the Summa Theologiae. After listing, and before defeating, seven objections to the concept of usury as a sin, Aquinas explains:

On the contrary, It is written (Exodus 22:25): “If thou lend money to any of thy people that is poor, that dwelleth with thee, thou shalt not be hard upon them as an extortioner, nor oppress them with usuries.”

I answer that, To take usury for money lent is unjust in itself, because this is to sell what does not exist, and this evidently leads to inequality which is contrary to justice. In order to make this evident, we must observe that there are certain things the use of which consists in their consumption: thus we consume wine when we use it for drink and we consume wheat when we use it for food. Wherefore in such like things the use of the thing must not be reckoned apart from the thing itself, and whoever is granted the use of the thing, is granted the thing itself and for this reason, to lend things of this kind is to transfer the ownership. Accordingly if a man wanted to sell wine separately from the use of the wine, he would be selling the same thing twice, or he would be selling what does not exist, wherefore he would evidently commit a sin of injustice. In like manner he commits an injustice who lends wine or wheat, and asks for double payment, viz. one, the return of the thing in equal measure, the other, the price of the use, which is called usury.

…

Now money, according to the Philosopher (Ethic. v, 5; Polit. i, 3) was invented chiefly for the purpose of exchange: and consequently the proper and principal use of money is its consumption or alienation whereby it is sunk in exchange. Hence it is by its very nature unlawful to take payment for the use of money lent, which payment is known as usury: and just as a man is bound to restore other ill-gotten goods, so is he bound to restore the money which he has taken in usury.

– Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, § 78, Sin of Usury (“the Philosopher” is Aristotle).

Again, in Aquinas’s thirteenth century, money, debt, and usury were calculated based on legitimate money, rather than digital nothing on a wire. How much worse is our present situation, when all the money, not just the elusive interest, does not exist? Also, usury means interest, period, and not “excessive” interest as modern usurers tell.

Under no circumstances does the interest for a loan otherwise separately exist. Repayment, with interest, works like this: a loan (real or fake) is made; the debtor must work to obtain money (real or fake) to repay it, and; the debtor must work extra hard to conjure the interest money (real or fake), in essence robbing Peter to pay Paul. This process of robbery and overwork, for something that does not exist and which cost the lender nothing to loan, requires the debtor to literally give up a portion of his life in repayment. 

Without the benefit of Hebrew law, Jesus Christ, the Catholic Church, or Christian philosophy, Cato was onto something when he quipped about murder. It’s something that Christians have considered.

The fifth commandment forbids doing anything with the intention of indirectly bringing about a person’s death. The moral law prohibits exposing someone to mortal danger without grave reason, as well as refusing assistance to a person in danger.

The acceptance by human society of murderous famines, without efforts to remedy them, is a scandalous injustice and a grave offense. Those whose usurious and avaricious dealings lead to the hunger and death of their brethren in the human family indirectly commit homicide, which is imputable to them. …

–Catechism of the Catholic Church, Para. 2269 (2nd Ed., 1994).

Usury is not just theft and robbery. It is also a form of full or partial murder. 

We are overdue for both a Sabbatical Year and a Jubilee. Given the advanced state of decay and the current terminal climate of practical politics, economics, education, and public understanding in the US, there is no hope that the existing system can or will be reformed. Therefore, I propose replacing it whilst we build a new society and nation(s). Literally, every necessary legal mechanism exists to carry out such a process, with relative ease and speed, right now. Of course, nothing is working right now, and I am loath to use the very system that created the hell storm to resolve the same. There is also the fact we are dealing with pure evil. 

Ergo, I once again propose a Special Military Operation to de-globalize and de-satanize the USA, or the CSA, and/or some remnant portion thereof. Given the ability, I would aim to free the good people currently occupying the area of the former United States while also rearranging them geographically for a better future. Monetarily and economically, I would attempt to forge a new system that could easily integrate, to some degree, into the new Sovereign World SPFS-CIPS system. A martial approach would allow a pace and power to institute the changes without troublesome resort to uncertain democracy. It would also allow for the easy summary execution, preferably by torture or burning at the stake, of the vampires who have led us to the brink of utter disaster. There would, under my plan, be a somewhat substantial body count, though it would pale in comparison to the one which we are already rushing towards.

In the future, perhaps in a book format, I may explore such a genuine “great reset.” Honestly, it is already too late to save much of the existing fabric. But I have high hopes that we or someone else will have enough scraps left over to sew something new, wondrous, and righteous. For even ut pecunia, Deo vindice.

UPDATE: More noticing.

UPDATE: Read a fertility study, Boomer.

COLUMN: It’s Not 1859 Anymore

11 Wednesday Jan 2023

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It’s Not 1859 Anymore

 

Last week, the empire’s rulers faced a certain crisis. Damar Hamlin was felled by the clot shot on live TeeVee, apparently entering into brain death or comatose suspension right there on the field. If he has begun to recover as reported, then hopefully some greater good may come of it. But in those terrible moments, the cameras recorded the shocked realization on the faces of his teammates and opponents that the same poison coursed in their veins. Fears grew that the dullard people might also begin to realize something wasn’t quite as “safe and effective” as promised. A diversion, any diversion was desperately needed. And one man stepped forward, the hero.

Kevin McCarthy (R – Israel) gave the peeps just enough pause to forget about whatever it was I just wrote about. The perverts, freaks, war-mongers, and retards of the GOP put on a real circus in picking McCarthy as possibly the US’s final squeaker of the house. Just kidding. We are saved now! With Republicans fully in charge, we have beaten the Dumbocrats, and that’s all that matters. Add in the specter of the 2024 presidential selection gracing a bloodthirsty Ziocon loon like war criminal John Bolton (R – Israel) (mustached to conceal his fangs), war criminal Ronny DeSantis (R – Israel), war criminal Nimrata Haley (R – Israel), or war criminal Orange Tweets (R – Israel), and a new golden age is just around the corner! Okay, now I’m kidding.

A recent CBS “news” headline read: “House speaker finally elected on 15th ballot — the most since before Civil War” They noted the similarities between last week’s clown show and the placid year of 1859. How apropos. Party like it’s 1859! They could have easily and as truthfully said it was the most leading up to a civil war. It is. 

The mentioned year is appropriate too. Many ‘Muricans, especially Southerners, mentally live in 1859. More than a few have explicitly told me so. Odds are, you have your pet year. Mine’s 1982. As Meatloaf once reminded us, “it was long ago, and it was far away, and it was so much better than it is today.” Except that, today is, in fact, today. It’s 2023, and lil’ Baby New Year is already shaping up to be a brat. The new McCarthyism (yuck, yuck) is par for the course. Let’s use the late idiocy as a predictive model or summary of things to come.

One of my resolutions for the new year is to avoid contact with conservatards, libertardians, civic nationalists, and other defectives. (It’s going about as well as avoiding mosquitoes in the Everglades). I have not directly noticed, but I imagine more than a few little political pests have already said something along the lines of, “if ain’t no speaker, then cain’t pass no lawz! No gubmint, not mo gubmint! Shutter down and keeper down!” Quaint. Fitting for 1982 or 1859. Irrelevant today. If Kongress had failed to operate all year, nothing would have changed. Practical politics in the USSA is dead, done, and over. The Dark State doesn’t even need the politicians anymore. Though it appears to be dying an accelerating death, the empire will keep on being evil until the bitter end. McCarthy will now join Brandon as one part puppet and one part jester in doing the bidding of the masters. 

Several former newspapers ran op-eds stupidly explaining how the whole pathetic spectacle really means our democracy is healthy and functional. It isn’t. The crapital Big Top show was indicative of the fact that the yankee empire is a failed state. It is, at best, utterly dysfunctional. And there is no repairing it. I suspect a growing minority of Americans, and maybe a number of not-Americans know this, even if they remain in denial. The majority, while possibly sensing that something is wrong, do not have a clue. They don’t want to find a clue, and will probably remain clueless, at least until M-84s start peppering their neighborhoods or local savages start spit-roasting children in the streets. Normies gonna normie. 

All of this is, by the way, nothing new, nor is it limited to false ‘Murican exceptionalism. 

Today we attach immense importance to the ideology of our internal politics. The Press and public media in the U.S.A. and Britain pour incessant scorn on any country the political institutions of which differ in any manner from our own idea of democracy. It is, therefore, interesting to note that the life-expectation of a great nation does not appear to be in any way affected by the nature of its institutions. 

Past empires show almost every possible variation of political system, but all go through the same procedure from the Age of Pioneers through Conquest, Commerce, Affluence to decline and collapse. 

-Sir John B. Glubb, Fate of Empires (1976)

So why do so many folks continue to invest themselves in a play-act that ended years ago? Some just can’t help it, I suppose. The national average IQ is steadily sliding toward 90. When it gets there, it will probably keep sliding toward the world average of 82. And there is, sadly, no set floor! Weak-minded or not, many people, especially on the fake, FOX “News”-trusting right, maintain a cheering interest in the trainwreck of politics because they think (to the degree that’s possible) if they keep playing along, then they can bring about a magical political solution. They do not or cannot see that by supporting the evil system, they are helping perpetuate it – to their own detriment. Some of these types have to be well-meaning, but their tactics will never work. We’ve reached the point in Glubb’s keen analysis of transitioning from decline to collapse. In perhaps more popular Star Wars geek-speak, we are where Peter Cushing’s character tells Luke’s daddy that the last vestige of the Old Republic has been swept away. The bureaucracy itself now maintains order, beholden to a nebulous and evil imperial class. The people are kept in perpetual fear by things like the common cold, stock market charades, and social media cancellation threats. The great news is that sooner or later our Death Star will blow up.

Then what? And exactly how will the darkness end? Those are two questions for which I do not have concrete answers. No one does, at present. The other day, I mentioned that we are not ready. We’re not. Neither were the good men of the South in 1859. They had, I think, an advantage over modern Americans, in that they possessed a more active spirit of faith, self-determination, and action. One will recall that those men, in only a few years, put together a new and independent nation-state. Can we do the same? Possibly, but it might be time to at least start planning for the future, instead of living in the past.

I write that kindly but sternly, as an inspiration and a warning. Our enemies have plans, sloppy and futile but existent, for our future. Their vision isn’t pleasant. Intel rumors suggest they, or their worst elements, really want to go all the way with a full-on global war. Even if they can’t gain from it, they’ll do it just to spite God and His people. They’ll expect us, our brothers, our sons, and even our daughters to do the fighting and dying for them. Allegedly, they’re already putting a recruitment plan in motion. How might that work out for humanity? I have no idea, though I strongly suggest that no American or Westerner take any further part in this madness. 

There was more, but we’ll stop here as there is still time to cover more bases.

Deo vindice!

COLUMN: The Battle of Homeschool Hill and Other Matters for a New Year

04 Wednesday Jan 2023

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The Battle of Homeschool Hill and Other Matters for a New Year

 

Hello, and again happy interim between Western and Orthodox Christmases. It was going to be another article about education. Feeling generous, I thought to also discuss related demographic trends. However, I tire of repeating the same topics ad nauseam. Therefore, I will cover those issues in brief, while adding a few omnibus affairs that may or may not be important in 2023. Happy new year, y’all!

Education. The problems have little to do with the recent retardery of wokeness. The modern schools, as formed in the 1800s, are literally evil. Having personally suffered under and explored this failed institution from end to end, both as an inmate and as a deputy warden – from a “Christian” segregation academy, to a third-world excuse of a public system, to the halls of graduate school – I am a proponent of homeschooling. If one has children, one loves one’s children, and one values Western Civilization, then Christian, Classical homeschooling isn’t just the best option, it’s the only option. I really intend to eventually review Teaching The Trivium by the Bluedorns.

One quote, from page 34: “Education is for a purpose. If the purpose does not have God in view, then it is godless education, and it will eventually produce godless results.” They also maintain, correctly, that the only real education is one that begins with, and consistently nurtures, the revelations of Almighty God. Our “schools” do the opposite.

If one allows one’s children to learn, then one probably knows or senses that the satanic system is one’s adversary. It is, and it has developed a slow-boiling plan of attack on legitimate education. Stories of horror and idiocy, which I will not rehash, pop up time and again. Seeing that a small percentage of families, though still a relatively large aggregate number of them, do teach their children, I envisioned a program or pogram whereby the hellish state might seek to make homeschooling improbable or impossible, whether de facto or de jure. I know they want to do this, they seethe over the prospects. But they are, now more than ever, pressed on multiple fronts and desperately trying to hold some of what they already have. It’s a mixed bag of probabilities. So, if that terrible day comes, please be ready for it. It is a hill worth dying on, and worth killing to defend. (I hereby omit some charts and more quotes).

Demography. As a Southerner, I suppose it is de rigueur to mention the importance of our flags, statues, heritage, history, and unique way of life. These things and concepts define and precondition our society. They are legitimate parts of our culture. They link our current existence with the past. They are also utterly irrelevant if we cease to exist. Numerically, we are ceasing to exist. 

Here, I omit a large, unpleasant chart, some definitions, and a little extraneous discussion. Know that between 2015 and 2021 the non-Hispanic White population in the United States fell by over 2 million individuals. 2022 possibly saw a net loss of another million, give or take. That drops our overall population to around 194 million, essentially where we were in the mid-late 1990s. The US has, during the ensuing years, added some 50 million non-Whites. This is the not-so-Great Replacement, which is official legal policy rather than any manner of theory. I realize one’s particular area might defy the trend, or so one might imagine. I also know in the South some states have fared better than the average, while others are ahead of the dreadful curve. I also understand the uncomfortable concept, absolute and “cultural,” of auto-genocide. 

The war on Southerners, the war on White People, and the war on our (and all) children are smaller parts of the ongoing war against Christianity and Western Civilization. One affects another, all being intertwined. Logistically or strategically, it may be useful to examine a few in-progress aspects of the greater war. Some kicked off in earnest in 2022. Some will continue, while others begin in 2023. Yet more awaits in the uncertain future. I’ll present this in terms of three events I have long foreseen as ushering in the destruction of the remains of the United States: an economic collapse, a massive foreign military defeat, and a horrendous domestic war.

The Economy. Pursuant to the destruction of the American Nation, and the growing rule by women and foreigners over the US, after 1913 it was decided that the US economy and the very existence of money would be turned over to a small cult of devil worshipers. This arrangement worked out rather well for them and their fellow travelers in the hideous yankee capital. It has been an unmitigated disaster for the American people. Absolute financialization, fulfilling Gresham’s Law, has taken us from real money to fiat money, to fake fiat money, to nonexistent debt-based money. (By the way, the late and very great Tom Moore foreshadowed all of this in A Fatal Mercy). As it stands in January 2023, there is statistically zero legitimate money in the US/NATO/BIS/WereWestern economy. None. There is no money. Most of the real value in this slave system, and most production-based benefit therein, has been driven into the pockets of the wicked masters. Steve Keen, Michael Hudson, Ian Fletcher, David Graeber, et cetera, have explained how this process unfolded, though a simple trip to the grocery store may provide ample interpretation.

A handful of nations in “Zone B,” led by Russia and China, fomented an international rebellion against this usurious evil. In 2022, when Russia was stupidly cast from the SWIFT system, Moscow and Beijing flipped the switch on SPFS(MIR)-CIPS, and the world economy bifurcated. Westerners, Americans, and Southerners are on the wrong side, the side based exclusively on lies, fraud, force, dark magic, theft, slavery, and murder. The Sino-Russian alternative, which 80-90% of the world will probably eventually join, is based on actual production and productive capacity, indexed commodities, including gold and oil, and a “whole process democratic” philosophy of treating money as a public utility. Critically, the new alternative is not founded in satanism, and it is under the ownership and control of the men of the subject countries, rather than a cabal of ancient trolls in London, New York, and Basel.

The base fools in DC, NYC, and London are spinning, spiraling hopelessly as the world de-couples. 2023 will possibly finalize a few projects begun in 2022, such as the end of the US-enabling Petrodollar. In the end, this will be a boon for most people in the world, though a nightmarish ordeal for Americans and Westerners. We’re already feeling some early effects. Prepare to feel many more of much greater, harsher magnitude. Optimistically, those on our side who survive may gain a chance to restore their genuine freedom and potential.

World War III. Many will disagree, but I assume that it is already underway. It is and may yet be as different from WW2 as WW2 was from WW1. But it essentially pits the armies and political structures of the above-noted bifurcated halves, Clown World (the Werewest) and Sovereign World, against each other. 

Really, it may have begun even as WW2 ended, lasting through the Cold War, and heating this century. On February 24, 2022, it kicked up a notch when Russia finally moved to nix US/NATO aggression in Ukraine. As a fully international conflict, other fronts simmer, particularly in East Asia and the Middle East. The US and NATO are already heavily, directly involved against Russia. In saloon-speak, they are having their asses handed to them; Russia is beginning to disarm and “deNazify” NATO as well as the disciples of Stepan Bandera. This should have been assumed, as in terms of military-industrial output, Russia alone out-produces all of NATO, the US included, by something like a factor of twelve. It also bears mentioning that the US is obviously fighting a tandem war against its own NATO allies.

While remembering China, India, Iran, and more are still out there, looming, the Russians still haven’t cranked their war machine to anywhere near its maximal or even optimal potential. But they will. They’ll have to as the Ziocon fools who rule the US will leave them no choice. Our wicked, fake elites are beyond desperate. They know they have finally gotten the very war they wanted and that they know they cannot win. Being possessed by illogical demons, they do not care. They will happily sacrifice as many of us as they can get away with out of pure fear, greed, and hatred.

I have no idea how this will play out. No one does. I am not concerned about whether it remains a conventional war, or if it comes to involve nuclear arms. Ultimately, I think it will work out well, or better, for the majority of humanity. Again, those Americans who live to see the day after will probably enter into a refreshing new era of peace.

Civil War 2.0. If selling the idea of a new world war is difficult, then this one might even be more so. I already believe this war has commenced, though it is now a very low-level conflict. It will bear little resemblance to the Southern War for Independence. Once it gets going, it will be bad. B-A-D, bad. Or, so I think, even as I have no exact idea how it will play out. We have been advised to envision Rwanda multiplied by Yugoslavia, which even as it doesn’t work out mathematically, may still be appropriate. The fun will probably start in conjunction with the financial collapse and/or the hammering abroad.

Our little elite overclass of Deevs has re-engineered homogenous America into a boiling stew of competing factions. They did this, not to divide us, but to lump us all together in a pressure cooker. As their plans for both world dominance and worldly relocation have been thwarted, they are stuck here in the mess they made. We, all of us, are stuck with them. And, make no mistake, they hate us, all of us, even more than they hate the Russians, Chinese, and Iranians. Even as our various theaters of distention erupt, they, given no outer alternatives, will rain down their hatred upon us. Here’s hoping Russia can disarm their pet military as much as possible before it is loosed upon us. 

It does not have to be that way, though it almost certainly will. Ergo, now is the ripe time to make plans, lay in preparations, and choose sides. Faith, family, farms, firearms, and all that. I’ll end with an admonition as applicable to Southerners as it is to New Englanders, New Africaners, Neo-Aztecs, and everyone else: we are many things, but one thing we are not, at present, is ready. Take heart! Because nobody really ever is ready. Come what may, we can and many of us will make it. Why? And how? Because…

Deo Vindice! 

COLUMN: A Brief Review of 2022

28 Wednesday Dec 2022

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A Brief Review of 2022

 

Hello and happy interim between Western and Orthodox Christmases. Today, my dear readers, you almost suffered another education column. It will happen sooner or later, and it will possibly revolve around a premonition I had whilst reading through Teaching the Trivium by Harvey and Laurie (RIP) Bluedorn. In due time, I will review their tour de force. But don’t wait for me. Go ahead and get a copy now – especially if you have younger children! I’ll also get to the premonition, which may be of interest if you homeschool (and you should). Those items, however, can wait.

Instead, today we will celebrate all that was the glorious year of Anno Domini Twenty Twenty-two. What a great time we all had! There was world peace at last. In the exceptional United States of America, we added a positive net sum of perhaps one million new Caucasian citizens. We also had another honest, productive election, which was bolstered by the strongest wage and buying-power gains of any industrial capitalist economy in history. All this happened even as violent crime practically disappeared – along with the very last illegal invader. Even though not a soul died of “suddenly,” the honorable Dr. Anthony Fauci apologized for everything. And, of course, I’m joking. Just literally reverse everything you just read and you have a pretty accurate summary of the past twelve months. 

Around the Old Blog and the greater Perrinverse, it’s been a mostly placid and productive time. My most popular column of the year (as of my checking on December 26th) was: 

Ukrainian Vodka With A Side Of Freedom Fries (March 2nd).

There was a two-way tie for third place:

Gal Gadot: Good, True, and Beautiful (May 18, 2021) (This was the No. 1 post of 2021, which is interesting. Go, GG!); and,

J.R.R. Tolkien and the Russian Special Military Operation in Ukraine (March 30th).

Thank you, devoted readers.

In other great news, Doctor Ironsides is preparing to hit the bookshelves again very soon. Here’s hoping to have the revitalized THE SUBSTITUTE out in January, followed sometime next year by AURELIUS. Then, there will be much more. MUCH more. You’ll enjoy it. Ready the credit cards. 

The Freedom Prepper media empire, the Prepper Post News and Freedom Roasters Coffee included, succumbed to the stellar financialized economy, at least temporarily. As such, I have been reduced to another kind of day work foraging for twigs. Next year, please buy as many books as you can afford. It is a-okay to take out loans for the endeavor! *wink, wink, nod, nod*

I’ve also found a new home among my great fellow Southerners at Reckonin’! Oddly enough, I just had a story syndicated at the reorganized, re-energized, and mo’ bettah’d TPC! Up, and up, and up! I also re-entered the socialz via my forever dormant account at Social Galactic (if you know, great; if not, ditto). Lastly, in truly personal news, my beard is back to fully black, and my bench has once again soared back above 400. *cough, cough*

For the great majority of the world, while problems did abound, a great hope arose this year! To properly, briefly represent the good news, I will do so by celebrating…

2022’s MAN OF THE YEAR!

This year’s undisputed Man of the Year is the Honorable President of the Russian Federation, His Excellency Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin. He’s had tremendous help from our honorable mentions, but the man gets the lion’s share of the credit. Big, bad Vlad has broken the luciferian new world disorder hegemony of the Anglo-Zionist axis of darkness. The break between the sovereign nations and clown world, while not yet complete, appears irreversible. This includes all matters, military, political, commercial, monetary, intellectual, cultural, and religious. 

Having spent most of the century preparing, he has instituted the strongest possible defense of his people. He has freed or is freeing the ethnic Russians in Novorossiya. He will end up freeing the Ukrainians. He may very well end up freeing the rest of Europe, possibly including the beleaguered English. There is even modest hope that, in time, Russia’s advances may even trigger a deglobalization and desatanization in places like the former USA, and the (O)CSA. There’s always hope. 

While exposing concrete evidence of the empire’s bioweapon programs and war crimes, Vlad simultaneously took much of the world’s focus off of the fake pandemic and associated general hysteria. Last but not least, he has, in only ten months, proved the NWO MSM to be base liars about 900,000 times. No small feat, that.

Honorable Mentions to President Xi Jinping of China, Hon. Dmitry Medvedev, Hon. Sergey Lavrov, Hon. Ramzan Kadyrov, Mrs. Maria Zakharova (rhymes with “HOT”), Gen. Sergei Shoigu, Gen. Sergei Surovikin, Hon. Viktor Orban, Prime Minister of Hungary, and some other good men and women. 

I could go on, but I will stop here. I’ll be back next week in a brand new, interesting new year. Happy New Year, everyone.

2022 has been brought to you by the letter Z.

FICTION: A Christmas Fire To Make The Good Victorious

22 Thursday Dec 2022

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A Christmas Fire To Make The Good Victorious

~a Tom Ironsides tale by Perrin Lovett~

~~Christmas 2022~~

Saint Thomas of Aquino College, Blowing Rock, North Carolina, December 22, 2022…

As the low December sun dipped behind the mountains, their afternoon dance complete, the slow-drifting refracted beams of stained glass light faded from the chapel wall. Several of the older congregants and more than a few of the youngsters noted the departure, with at least one mind wishing the ephemeral decorations good evening and goodbye. The tall, commanding speaker, standing in the middle of the steps before the altar, wearing a dark suit, an unusual tie, and a genuinely delighted look, took the shadowy spectacle as the signal to conclude his presentation.

   ‘And so,’ he said, ‘in summation, it has been, all the news of the outside world notwithstanding, a wonderful year both at the collegiate level and, especially, at our nascent little school. By the way, my earlier remarks, just to be clear, about quote-unquote wisely investing the center funds in something called FTX, that was a joke. I didn’t think enough of you laughed at the time, not in here, and it was difficult to gauge the online mood.

   ‘Speaking of that, what a testament! There may, in fact, be great things ahead for our concept of internet-assisted homeschooling. A note was passed to me some minutes ago, and it seems we have just over two-hundred families, benefactors, and friends joining us via the video call function. From as far away as the Helvetic Confederation and Slovakia, I might add. I regret to inform those of the digital set that they, unfortunately, will not be able to directly partake of the sandwiches, punch, and cookies which we’ll enjoy momentarily.’ Here, a peal of general laughter erupted.

   ‘My apologies,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Perhaps that’s the next grand step in technology. But again and again, thank you all for coming this evening, all of you watching nationwide, worldwide, and everyone within these walls. I’d like to especially thank our tech department friends for making the wider conference possible. And I owe a debt of gratitude to all of my classics students and the other young academicians who stayed several days after finals to help. The younger kids love all of you, they look up to you, and your assistance has been beyond important. Critical, if you will. And if I’ve missed anyone, then I offer a great, all-encompassing thank you!

   ‘Just before we wrap this show up and commence our Christmas partying, a final word about those unpleasant secular and spiritual matters, the ones that have dogged us particularly hard of late. In an optimistic spirit of defiance, I offer you this inspirational challenge: There is no cure for this evil, but by the giving of greater force to the good hand. The righteous cause must be strengthened with might to resist the wicked, to defend the helpless, to punish all cruelty and unfairness, to uphold the right everywhere, and to enforce justice with unconquerable arms. Oh, that the host of Heaven might be called, arrayed, and sent to mingle in the wars of men, to make the good victorious, to destroy all evil, and to make the will of the King prevail! So wrote Henry van Dyke in his story of the Christmas Angel in 1905. In his young century, and in ours. Fear not! Our side is just too strong; they can’t win. Merry Christmas, everyone!’

   The gathering then removed to the adjacent events center for further merry festivities. Tom inched to the back doors of the chapel and greeted everyone again as they disembarked in search of food and drink.

   ‘What a wonderful message, all of it,’ someone said. ‘I always loved van Dyke, and you did his words great justice.’

   ‘Thank you. It’s easy in a beautiful setting filled with gracious people.’

   ‘The virtual crowd enjoyed the show,’ a techie told him. ‘You had them overload the chat box! I emailed you all eight hundred messages for later, just like you asked.’

   ‘Thank you! Couldn’t have made it work without your help.’

   ‘You’ve made quite the start in only three years, Colonel,’ a woman said.

   ‘Time flies when you’re making progress and having fun!’

   ‘Public speaking might be your thing, sir. You should teach or something,’ one of his classics students said.

   ‘Yeah, I need to look into that.’

   ‘I knew you were trouble when we hired you,’ a Regent said. ‘My kinda trouble.’

   ‘All I’ve ever really been good at.’

   ‘What did you do to those state DOE people from Raleigh?’ another professor asked.

  ‘Get with me after the break about that.’

   ‘I like your tie, Doctor I,’ a little girl from the day school said. Her mother stood behind her, alternately smiling and biting her lower lip, and conspicuously batting her eyes at Tom.

   ‘It’s daffy just like us,’ he replied while ignoring the maternal flirtation and looking down at the Santa hat-sporting Duck himself.

   He entered the hall last, walking and chatting with Oak Moreland. ‘I have to meet this woman, Chief,’ he said in response to some new information. ‘I suppose she’s behind these subtle changes in your ways. Have you noticed?’

   ‘No,’ Oak said. ‘Well, okay, I do notice her, shall we say, positive influences. I have also noticed a few things about you lately, boss. Are you aware that you, just now and three times, called this place the center? Didn’t I tell you? The Ironsides Center has a ring to it!’

   ‘Huh? Maybe,’ Tom said. ‘I’m more interested in seeing if a ring pops up in your life. Then you two can get on with the, you know, adding more kids to our programs.’ 

   ‘One step at a time, man! But, kids— Did you ever think, back in the old days, about your recent reason for being? I could always have seen it coming, but literally seeing it now, meeting her and all, is something different.’

   ‘Honestly,’ Tom said with light reflection, ‘back then, I didn’t even count on making it to retirement. Now that I’m here, I gotta admit this is the best part of life! Babysitting is the funnest job I’ve ever had, and kind of a reward for the trials of parenting – that first great go-round. Maybe a reward for any of the good work we might have ever done over all those mean years. You’ll find out before too long, one day, my friend.’

   ‘When will mommy and daddy be back?’ Oak asked.

   ‘Tomorrow, straight up from Charlotte,’ Tom said. ‘They took Jessica with them, her and her new positive, hopefully-speaking, influence, what’s-his-bubba. Bringing a college shuttle bus full of relatives, in-laws, and out-laws back with them. Thankfully it won’t be quite as many as last Christmas or the overkill year before. Got some folks scattered about this year. Oh, and I’d best remember to top that thing off before we return it. Wash it. Details.’

   ‘Can Todd drive it okay?’

   ‘Yeah. I mean, he was man enough to marry Vicky, so a box truck with seats shouldn’t be too bad. Who knows? Maybe she’ll drive. But not me! Cause I got something, somebody a whole lot more important right here!’ The men stopped and looked down at the gala’s smallest and youngest participant.

   There, surrounded by college kids and swinging from Carmyn’s arm, was Tom’s pride and joy, his newest, funnest reason for being. She was named after Tom’s late mother, she was almost eighteen months old, and she was possessed of a constant bubbly precociousness. Her big brown eyes gleamed happily up at her grandfather before rapidly drifting over to Oak’s large, smiling face. She started hopping up and down and calling: ‘Bear! Bear!’

   ‘Hey, baby girl!’ Oak exclaimed as he bent down to her level. ‘Grrrrrr.’

   ‘You do look like a big, old grizzly,’ Tom said. ‘Especially with the beard.’

   While the hulking man happily allowed many a tug on his beard, Carmyn proudly said to Tom, ‘not a peep from Meredith the whole time! She’s the perfect child. I’m not even sure she knows how to cry or fuss.’

   ‘She also failed to laugh at any of my jokes,’ Tom said with faux ruefulness. ‘Nor did she show any interest in my new Greek rhetorical powers.’

   ‘Gee, babe, that was all Greek to me too.’

   Along with his usual Latin quips and French aphorisms, Tom babbled on in Greek a little more, or tried to, in between visits here and there around the room. He and Carmyn decided, along with an ample contingent, to simply make a dinner of the various finger foods, scrapping their earlier plans to dine in Boone. And so, perhaps an hour and a half passed pleasantly in the company of many good, intelligent, and interesting people. 

   Outside, as Carmyn snapped the happy toddler into her car seat, Tom made a suggestion. ‘What say we cruise downtown and look at the lights?! The park and Main and all?’ he asked. And, the three of them being in agreement, that is just what they did. Carmyn sat in the back with Meredith, whom she kept whispering to.

   ‘So, guess what, gramps!’ Carmyn said to the driver.

   ‘What’s that?’

   ‘Vicky told me I could tell you this if I wanted to,’ she said. ‘You’re you, so you wouldn’t have noticed anything. And she’s not sure herself. I’m not. Mehr-Mehr, here, isn’t either, but we all suspect something!’

   ‘Is this leading to a riddle or a conspiracy?’ he asked.

   ‘It might, if it happens to be right, lead to another grandbaby,’ she said with a little gleeful squeal in her voice.

   ‘Woo-hoo!’ Tom exclaimed. ‘More babies! Number two of six, eight, or ten, I hope. I want all the kids to have kids. Lots of grandkids! Hear that, Meredith? You’re gonna be a big sister! And I’ll end up being the old man who lived in a shoe.’ He looked in the mirror at Meredith, and added in a silly voice, ‘he had so many children, he didn’t know what to do!’

   For her part, the little girl was most excited about the prospects, as best she understood them. And she tried to follow the grownup conversation. Of course, at her age, she found the eventual turn in their words inexplicably mystifying.

   ‘Speaking of shoes, old man,’ Carmyn said while playing with the bow in Meredith’s dark brown hair. ‘Some of the kids and faculty were talking with me about all that sick stuff with the Balenciaga ads. Can you believe they tried that?!’

   ‘Baby, I can believe anything after all I’ve seen and done. And with all the news the past few years. But, yeah, it’s everywhere. BAAL-enciagas. Sadly fitting for our day and times.’

   ‘Lydia and I had a talk about that crap – oops, sorry Mehr – about that stuff, a few weeks ago,’ Carmyn added. ‘We never worked for the house outright, but we’ve both worn their, uh, stuff, at shows or functions. Makes me a little sick. Your big sis too. Yuck.’ The old Rover was silent for a moment. Then she changed the subject: ‘How about some music? A song?’

   ‘Oh, I got a song for our devil-worshiping friends,’ Tom said before clearing his throat. ‘Sing along if you— It’s cadence; just refrain after me if you know the words.’

   ‘Oh, Tom, is this—’

   ‘Down in the night, with the falling rain! Come on, echo me!’

   ‘Tom is this age—’

   ‘Down in the night, with the falling rain!

   ‘HALO jumper gonna bring the pain!’

   ‘Tom?’

   ‘Ka-Bar, Ka-Bar, sharp and dry!’

    ‘Tom!’

    ‘Hit the ground, find the pedos, and MAKE THEM DIE!’

   ‘TOM!’

   ‘What? She likes it. Look!’

   ‘She likes everything, darling. Just, uh, keep it nursery-friendly.’ Meredith was, in fact, bouncing and clapping in her seat. ‘Well,’ Carmyn said. ‘She— That was pretty clever. You know, little miss, your grandpa here used to take it to the bad people of the world pretty hard and heavy.’

   ‘Used to?’ Tom asked. ‘Used to. Well, someone has to guard the nursery.’

   ‘Okay, then do that, and stop guarding the radio. Find some Christmas music for our tour.’

   Tom dialed up a Joyeux Noel compilation concert by Michel Corrette and Pierre Dandrieu, and the trio hummed and sang along while they light-hopped the small mountain Gotham. Tom had just eased by the town hall, slowing considerably to allow full viewing of the park decorations, when Carmyn’s phone rang.

   ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Hey! How was the drive down?’

   ‘Good. A little traffic near the airport, but no problems,’ Vicky said from the other end. ‘The hotel is fine. We’re settled in. Before we— Oh, a couple of quick updates! Ari and Maddie landed a few hours ago in New York. That gang’s off to Gstaad in the morning. Domestically, Trey and Romana caught an early flight, so Jess and her bubba – hey, yeah, I think I’m starting to like him! – are down in the lobby waiting on them. I’ll tell her you said hello. We’re about to go down so we can all relax in the little bar when they arrive. Adult time! I can almost remember what it was like now. Speaking of, how’s our little baby?!’

   ‘Darling, you’ll be so proud!’ Carmyn said. ‘He’s driving us around, talking a little, only mentioning killing pedos once, he hasn’t spilled anything lately, and he’s almost minding his manners!’ The girls shared a healthy laugh. 

   ‘Honey bunny, funny bunny?’ Tom innocently asked the mirror, his eyebrows arched.

   ‘No, the other baby,’ Carmyn continued; ‘She’s perfect! The hit of the party. We’re driving around now, light-seeing. She keeps cooing and singing. So sweet! So tiny and cute. And, she— Oh! She just mimicked me, tiny and cute, in that voice. She’s so perfect that we want to keep her. She and Mox really warm up the house. They make me feel alive and make your dad act like an overgrown kid. You guys can just stay put until New Year’s, maybe later. Or if you want, Mox and I can keep Mehr-Mehr, and y’all can take over with grumps. No? But I bet you wanna talk to her, don’t cha? My girlfriend’s right here.’ Carmyn leaned over with the phone to Meredith, saying, ‘put down the sippy. Mama’s on the phone! Talk to mama and daddy!’

   ‘Grumps?’ Tom mumbled to the vacant front passenger seat.

   ‘Mama!’ Meredith chirped. 

   Mother and daughter had a quick, blissful conversation, with Meredith even recounting her recent exciting encounter with a bear. Carmyn and Vicky had a quick, blissful discussion about Meredith’s big sister potential. Tom blissfully looped around from Main to Ransom and back again. After a minute, Vicky and Todd joined the sightseeing via a video call. Together, they all toured the small business district and the houses down 221 towards Tom and Carmyn’s home in the hills. As it happened, they were all so carried away singing Dominick the Donkey, they drove right past the driveway. But in short order, Tom carried the lightly sleeping Meredith into the house. He was whispering to her about why the old Babushka still searches every Christmas for a certain Child and why she leaves a single tear on each pillow as she looks. Meredith, of course, was otherwise occupied with the broad, firm pillow of Tom’s shoulder. She was awakened by and they were all met with a terrific woofing from Moxie, Vicky and Todd’s huge Tatra Shepherd, whom Tom and Carmyn were also babysitting for the night. Meredith began excitedly reaching down and calling, ‘Mos! Mos! Mos!’

   ‘Here you go, the two of you,’ Tom said as he lightly placed her on the dog’s back as if he were a small pony and her a tiny jockey. A short ride turned into a snuggle fest on the living room rug by the Christmas tree. ‘This place’ll be packed this time tomorrow,’ Tom said, waving around.

   While he plugged in the lights and cranked up the little train, Carmyn asked him, ‘I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s in that huge, empty-feeling package in the corner? Behind the big, long, heavy one?’

   ‘Oh, that’s just a safe tube,’ Tom said, as he concentrated on re-centering a small engine on its tracks, honestly enjoying the smokey ozone smell that rose from the small shower of rail contact-generated sparks. ‘Plastic pipe’s all it is. It’s for burying what’s in the heavy present, or at least one of them. Seal it down, purge it, and good to go!’

   ‘One of them? What, pray tell, is in the heavy box?’

   ‘Mehr-bear’s Kalashnikovs! Matching set.’

   ‘Her what now?’

   ‘Latest version of the venerable AK-47! Two of ‘em, and boy, are they tricked out! I got her folding stocks, those slide-aside holo-sights Birch made, bayonet lugs, and—’

   ‘You got a baby assault rifles?!’

   ‘Battlefield rifles, my dear lady.’

   ‘She’s not even two! How’s she supposed—’

   ‘Well, not now, obviously. She’s not even as tall as they are long. The big drum mags probably weigh as much as her. But that’ll change, and when it does, I’ll be ready. Better to have them now than wait around.’

   ‘What’s Vicky gonna think?!’

   ‘I tell you, she’s going to be a little jealous, as these are much nicer than the one I gave her when she was this age. And there are two of these! Bury one, one by the nightstand.’ By this time, Tom was standing near the packages in the corner, rubbing his hands happily, expectantly.

   ‘Only you, Tom,’ Carmyn said. ‘Are they, what do you guys call it? Full-auto?’

   ‘No, no, baby,’ he said soothingly. ‘They’re on safe. Gotta flip the selector around all the way to go full. Safe, one, three, rock n’ roll.’

   ‘Only you— ‘

   ‘Oh,’ Tom said down to Meredith, ‘and yours I dipped in girly-girl pink. Pink princess guns! Next, Imma get ya matching pistols and 12-gauge autoloaders. We also need to talk about blades. One day, we’ll even discuss applied creative chemistry.’ Meredith was too busy gumming Moxie’s ear to notice the revelations. Moxie, upside down on his back with his paws folded, appeared to enjoy the munching. 

   ‘Um, you’re a character, you know,’ Carmyn said while smirking and leaning on the large stone fireplace’s mantle. ‘You’re not trying to raise Hit-Girl, are you?’

   ‘Hit who now?’

   ‘Comic book heroine, darling,’ Carmyn explained. ‘Well, there’s not much meekness in you. There’s something to be said for that, I suppose.’

   ‘Meekness? Of course, I’m meek! And I want all my kids and grandbabies and all my people to be meek,’ Tom said in a semi-professorial tone. ‘Our English word, meek, as translated into Matthew, is derived from the – here it comes, again – from the Greek word práos, which means— It’s based on a military horse training term. It means a war horse disciplined to fearlessly stand in the face of battle, to respond to the just authority of the rider with controlled power. It has nothing to do with all this neutered, latter-day, Enlightenment nonsense about passively accepting everything. It means resolute, therefore strong service with neither timidity nor recklessness. We meek lil’ folks are battle horses in the great spiritual war!’ He looked down at the happily frolicking Meredith and added, ‘baby love, the war horses shall inherit the earth.’

   ‘I knew it,’ Carmyn said through a near-mocking smile. ‘When I first found you loitering on the street in Highlands, I knew you’d be interesting. Dangerous, but interesting. You’re a wonderworker, Tom.’

   He answered her while still speaking more to Meredith (and Moxie): ‘We’re not alone, babydoll! Jolly old Saint Nicholas once said, or wrote in a Troparion, the truth of things hath revealed thee to thy flock as a rule of faith, an icon of meekness(!), and a teacher of temperance. He’s also roundly known as a wonder worker! We’re all war horses, my valiant little filly. By the way, he’s the big dude who follows hot on the little Babushka’s heels, Christmas night. That is if one believes in that sort of thing. And, maybe if one doesn’t mind mixing up cultural appropriations.

   ‘Speaking of! You probably don’t know this— And, yeah, I guess Mox’s ears and snout are clean enough— But, did you know that Saint Nick even made his way into Irving’s Sleepy Hollow?! It was, if I remember correctly, by way of a mention of the old sailors’ habit of calling on the protection of—’

   ‘Okay, um. Mehr, you’ll figure out that the, that the, er, curiosity and learning never stops around here,’ Carmyn stammered for a second. ‘Unlike the little train on Miner’s Mountain, with this one, the ride never ends. And hey, Professor, what did you end up getting Stanley? Some anti-tank rockets?’

   ‘Seven dozen of them, as it turned out. All thanks to Brandon.’

   ‘You’re wearing you’re I’m-not-kidding face—’

   ‘Just kidding, baby. No, I also got him a complete set of The Papers of John C. Calhoun and a copy of the new book about Calhoun in the twenty-first century. All autographed by Doctor Clyde Wilson, the author. He’s a friend of a friend.’

   ‘Wow! He’ll love those,’ Carmyn said. ‘Also…’

   ‘Yes, he will! He’s got a little room on a shelf behind the table with his Civil War chess set. Perfect place. He and the old statesman can sit there and strategize things working out the right way as he puts it somewhat wistfully.’

   ‘Is his book coming out through that publisher?’ she asked. ‘Wellshot or whatever?’

   ‘I think so, if he can ever decide on the title,’ Tom said. ‘Right now, he’s working with Red On Grey: A Physician’s Review of Procedures and Conditions in Confederate Field Hospital Triage in the War for Southern Independence, by Doctor Millionaire Hillbilly, MD. Mouthful and a half, but it’s a take on a battle and, you know, blood on grey uniforms and all. Might need a tad of PR work.’

   ‘Well, he will enjoy the gift books, at any rate. To think, he used to call you, that Yankee,’ she said.

   ‘That G-D Yankee, if I was on good behavior!’ he added.

   ‘Well, I won’t say anything before he opens them,’ she said with a smile. ‘What time do you think he and Dot will arrive?’

   ‘Not sure,’ Tom said as he picked up Meredith, pausing to tweak Moxie’s large, wet nose (because not even the CIA’s all-time best could resist). ‘Probably late morning or early afternoon. I expect the entire gang to converge around midday. I also expect someone might need a little changing. Ahem.’

   ‘Ahem,’ she repeated. ‘Why don’t we all change, and – this one’s wide awake and we have all the time – why don’t we have a fire out back? It’s fall-like weather. Too nice not to.’

   ‘A wonderful idea!’ Tom said. ‘You two take your time, then grab some drinks and snacks, and meet me and Moxie outside. We’ll be out there preparing. I already have the fireplace loaded, and I have a couple of surprises!’

   ‘Oooo!’ Carmyn said.

   ‘Suh-pies!’ Meredith said.

   ‘Ruff!’ Moxie barked.

   Tom led Moxie away, singing, ‘…you marched in the battle of the grey and the red. When the cannon smoke cleared, took days to count the dead. ‘Cause, you fought all the way, Stanley Reb, Stanley Reb, you fought all…’

    A short while later, the girls trundled out onto the flagstone patio, both dressed warmly in matching Tweetsie Railroad fleece, ready for evening comforts. Carmyn bore a large thermos full of hot cocoa and a s’more-making kit. Moxie ran in circles around Meredith as she toddled forth, a short stack of insulated cups in her little be-mittened hands. The little courtyard was lit both by the ambient light from inside the house and by the warm lambency emanating from the hearthstone. The air was noticeably cooler than it had been earlier, but it still possessed a wholesome, welcoming aura. An agreeable breeze was wafting the sweet scent of evergreens up the hill. Carmyn took a deep breath of it and sighed contentedly. Meredith thought she might have seen her own exhalation, and though she was not completely sure, she was nonetheless pleased with the simple, entertaining notion. They found Tom tossing the cap of a Bolivar Belicoso Fino into a fire that was already heartily crackling with life, approaching the roaring state. Radiant embers rose from the chimney to join an amber glow that all melted into a clear, dark, and star-filled sky. Tom had surrendered his suit in favor of tactical pants and a field jacket. A large brown paper grocery sack rested curiously upon the corner of the stone hearth. The former television goddess set up her snack bar on the table between two love seats, Meredith and Moxie rollicked, and Tom crudely lit his cigar on the glowing, smoldering edge of a log.

   Turning to the crowd, he said, ‘well met! Lemme get this puffing along and then before we melt marshmallows, I have an inaugural tradition to — inaugurate. A second, please. I’ll also later need to Oban-ize my cocoa.’ He pointed to a bottle on the mantle while drawing on his Cuban.

   ‘Okay, one second! And what a nice fire, darling,’ Carmyn said. ‘It smells different. Sweet and maybe leathery. Using a new wood?’

   ‘Yes, kind of. And thank you. Now, just a moment.’

   After puffing the cigar’s bold, aromatic foot to an orange brilliance, he temporarily placed it on the mantle. ‘Okay, let’s start this party! Little lady,’ he pointed to Meredith and then to the paper bag, ‘can you fetch the contents of this bag for me?’ The tyke did so, laughing at the funny little doll she found. It was made of cloth stuffed with straw: a misshapen little man wearing a white coat and a tie. Cheap paper eyeglasses were taped on his poorly-formed face, and what might have been a dinky cardboard excuse for a syringe was affixed to one of his arms. He looked comical yet oddly familiar.

   ‘What in the world is that?’ Carmyn asked incredulously.

   ‘Our new tradition!’ Tom boomed proudly. ‘It’s time for the first ever burning of the Tony Fauci effigy!’ 

   Carmyn started to remark something but was caught in a fit of laughter.

   ‘Okay, babydoll,’ Tom said to Meredith. ‘That’s one of the baddest of the bad people. And that’s a life-sized doll too. So, this is reverse Molochism. As the youngest, cutest child present, it is your honor to throw the stupid little man into the fire!’

   ‘Tom, no,’ Carmyn began to say. ‘It’s too—’

   ‘Right, right,’ he acknowledged. ‘Not too close to the flames. Wait.’ He knelt down between the girl and the inferno. ‘Okay, you toss him to me, and I’ll chuck him in where he belongs. We’ll bring justice together! One, two … toss!’

   Soon, as three voices cheered and jeered, and while Moxie addressed a tangle in his puffy tail, the hideous little mannequin caught and was engulfed in the cleansing conflagration. ‘Say, bye, bye, little troll!’ Tom instructed Meredith.

   ‘Buh, buh, leedle twoh!’ she exclaimed while jumping and twisting.

   ‘En Français,’ Tom said. ‘Say, brûle, homme méchant!’

   ‘Bruuuuh—’

   ‘Brooo-l … Oohm … Meh-chaant.’

   ‘Bra, omma, mekat!’

   ‘Perfect!’ Tom said happily. ‘Next year, we’ll add Latin.’

   The girls curled up on one sofa, with Tom on the other, downwind and smoking away like the special new logs. Moxie rested his head on Tom’s lap for pets in between the man’s sips of Scotch chocolate. The sipping, s’moring, easy talk, star gazing, and fire-watching lasted for some time. A refreshing chilly air descended and the weather began to feel more winter-like. As Tom’s cigar was burning down towards his fingers, Carmyn said, ‘Tom. She’s asleep. Really asleep.’ He looked and saw brown hair nestled down beneath Carmyn’s fuzzy, half-open No. 12 jacket. 

   ‘This one too,’ he said, scratching the dreaming dog. ‘We’ll get them both to bed soon. What a wonderful day and night.’ He shifted his boots, re-propping them on the table. Carmyn looked at them as if momentarily in a trance.

   ‘Back to the disturbing news, for a minute,’ she said. ‘I feel bad that Vicky and I bought you those Balenciaga boots a few years ago. A shame, they looked so good on you.’

  ‘Who, exactly, bought them?’ he asked. ‘But I know, right? Saint Nicholas and Saint Michael, protect us.’

   ‘That’s not them, now, is it?’

   ‘No,’ he said. ‘I got rid of them in an appropriate fashion. It’s like the old clergyman and teacher wrote in his story. We have to do what we can, in the face of the evils, to strengthen the good hand. Small acts of defiance against the darkness. These are new Danners. Marine Expeditionaries. I had my guy dye them black and buff them smooth. Kind of like dress boots now. Close enough. What a wild story. But let’s not dwell on that anymore. Happy time.’

   ‘Yes, darling,’ she said. ‘And, as per, you do make a lovely fire.’

   ‘I sure do.’

   ‘But, what? Not to linger, but how did you get rid of the BAAL-enciagas?’ she asked.

   ‘They make a lovely fire.’

   A brief, obliging silence followed. And while neither of them mentioned the observation, they both, for a cursory instant, suspected they saw a few random snowflakes swirling somewhere out at the edge of the visible light. 

   A little deeper in the night, as fleeting sparks disappeared into the cold air, scattering the vague memory of molded forms of wickedness, both of modern pharmakeia and of the old cobbled Canaanite variety, a house quieted for decent rest. The angelic observer would have seen the strong man and his beautiful wife carefully tuck the tiny girl into her bed with kisses, a prayer, and a gentle “we love you.” A fluffy white guardian of a flock of one settled on the floor of his lassie’s room. The couple retired to their nearby chamber, she to wrap into his arms. So mingled and arrayed, the days closing steadily towards Christ’s Mass, the good, the meek and mighty, and the victorious drowsed in the prevalence of the will of the unconquerable King.

The End

A Very MERRY CHRISTMAS To One And All

Also running at Reckonin‘, TPC!, and on the FPC (for members).

Cognitive Decline Data

21 Wednesday Dec 2022

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Read this, by Peter Frost: The Great Decline.

It’s another take on the falling general intelligence of the fallen West. I’ll kind of wrap this into next week’s column. One thing, he sort of covers it, but IQs are not rising. They are collapsing. The Flynn Effect was ending (if it really existed) about the time Flynn noticed it. Since 1950, the USSA has suffered a near 10-point drop. Not good, but about one would or should expect.

No column today; barnburner fiction tomorrow-ish.

2022 Christmas Fiction Is Coming!

20 Tuesday Dec 2022

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I may or may not run a standard column this week. But I have already scheduled this year’s Christmas fiction! It will also run at Reckonin’, probably towards the end of this week. I think it’s one of the better ones and it features everyone’s favorite CIA killer turned professor. Look for it soon, though not today, our usual column day. You’re gonna like it.