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PERRIN LOVETT

~ Deo Vindice

PERRIN LOVETT

Category Archives: Other Columns

Columns concerning any and everything. Enjoy!

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

18 Wednesday Jan 2023

Posted by perrinlovett in Other Columns

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Christianity, debt, economics

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

Posted by perrinlovett in Other Columns

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1859, Empire, politics, USSA

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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2023, demographics, economy, education, War

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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2022, blog, review, Vladimir Putin

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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Christmas 2022, Christmas fiction, Tom Ironsides

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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IQ

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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Christmas fiction

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.

COLUMN: A Review of CHARLOTTESVILLE UNTOLD (With Bonus Material!)

14 Wednesday Dec 2022

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Anne Wilson Smith, book review, Charlottesville Untold, GG, history, War

A Review of CHARLOTTESVILLE UNTOLD (With Bonus Material!)

 

Here follows my review of Charlottesville Untold: Inside Unite the Right, by Anne Wilson Smith, Shotwell, 2021.

For a variety of reasons, I encourage everyone to read this book. Reason the first being that the subject matter had long eluded my immediate attention, fading away in the storage room of my mind, and yet I found Smith’s presentation informative and commanding. If you know nothing about UTR and Charlottesville, then you need to read the book. If you think you know everything about Charlottesville, you need to read it. If you were there, read it. If you’re convinced of the mainstream lies about Nazism and “hate,” read it. Just read it. For it is a concise evaluation of a history long in the making.

To that latter point, I turn to the observations of Pastor Chuck Baldwin from August 24, 2017:

“In 1864, Confederate General Patrick Cleburne warned his fellow Southerners of the historical consequences should the South lose their war for independence. He said if the South lost, “It means the history of this heroic struggle will be written by the enemy; that our youth will be trained by Northern schoolteachers; will learn from Northern school books their version of the war; will be impressed by the influences of history and education to regard our gallant dead as traitors, and our maimed veterans as fit objects for derision.” No truer words were ever spoken.

History revisionists flooded America’s public schools with Northern propaganda about the people who attempted to secede from the United States, characterizing them as racists, extremists, radicals, hatemongers, and traitors.”

Who knew Cleburne was a prophet? Today, one need not advocate anything close to succession to warrant those ridiculous labels. Simply being a Christian, a Caucasian, or just not being evil qualifies one as a racist, an extremist, a radical, a hatemonger, and a traitor. Dear reader, remember there are few accolades higher than being called bad names by wicked fools. Rejoice!

Rejoice, but be cautious.

When I finally got around to buying Charlottesville and reading it, I emailed the author and told her I had essentially reviewed her work some five years in advance. On August 13, 2017, I wrote out a few of my hasty observations. I hereby summarize them, with bracketed commentary as necessary:

  1. Stay away from events like this… They are dangerous and largely pointless. [The best way to avoid a bad situation is to avoid it].
  2. There are going to be more of them. They will grow increasingly worse… [These are already substantial understatements, and we really haven’t seen anything yet].
  3. This is that beloved diversity in action. … Ram enough incompatible people into close proximity and all hell will eventually break loose. … [Diversity + Proximity = War. Always, like a law of physics].
  4. In a sense, for the first time in 50 years, this was a race riot featuring White people in roles other than those of fleeing victims. Maybe you didn’t specifically ask for it. Really doesn’t matter now. [Among the many things chronicled in Anne’s great book were the tactical withdrawal of White/Right people and their remarkable restraint. As things continue to devolve, while the need for calculation will increase, restraint is becoming a negative factor].
  5. I said it was a bad idea to attack all things Confederate. [“Men were here before you, and they were better than you!” The extreme hatred of our best historical examples, by our worst enemies, is understandable in context].
  6. Perhaps hundreds of assault rifles were carried in force and not one single shot was fired. Restraint amid the madness. [The positioning of those guns, the role of the organized militias, and more is well covered. Maybe not from an assault rifle, but shots were fired – this is also covered. The rest of the world is beginning to mock overly armed Americans who can never seem to use their arms for anything other than talking points. That will change].
  7. Whichever side you’re on, please remember that the police are not your friends….  [This point is driven home again and again in the book. It is not our government anymore – any part of it. Police officers and soldiers are the open, dangerous agents of our enemies. To borrow from BLM and ANTIFA: ACAB. If you’re LEO or DOD, and this does not describe you, then you will have ample opportunity to prove it].
  8. Communists, BLMers, and SJWs: Cars can be deadly weapons. … [The Charger case is well covered, as are many of the others. All of them amounted to show-trial railroading of otherwise decent and innocent people. This is the legal new normal. This is the domestic application of the systematic destruction of ancient Western jurisprudence that commenced in mass at Nuremberg. Our enemies control the government, including the courts. Remember that].
  9. Alt-Right and Nationalists: lose the Nazi and KKK sh!t. … Hitler was a fool. Leave him in the bunker. … [Here, I learned (or was reminded of) something new. I’m not perfect, and in 2017, like so many others, I fell for some of the MSM BS. Smith explains in detail how little of the UTR crowd was in any way affiliated with neo-NSDAP idiocy. I’d now hazard a guess that those who were or are also receive a paycheck from the FedGov. Trust nothing from the government or its media. Also, when warranted, fully write out s-h-I-t].
  10. On a partially related note: some have spent the better part of a year calling Donald Trump “Hitler,” “Literally Hitler,” and “a Nazi.” … [H]ow could you possibly expect your “Literal Hitler” to start condemning Nazis??? No sense whatsoever. [Trump is fairly well covered in the book. Per his usual habit, his words were great, but his actions were beyond lacking. Hindsight is better than 20/20; the same cretins who called elderly Americans “Nazis” in 2017 are the same wicked degenerates who have spent 2022 funding, arming, assisting, and praising the literal descendants of Stepan Bandera. Go figure].
  11. Politicians: shut the hell up. This is your mess. Blame no one but yourselves. [Again, back in 2017, still possessed of a little faux libertarian optimism, I foolishly assumed the politicians still mattered. They do not, though they are still guilty beyond redemption. They’ve become like the eunuch acolytes of Jezebel, but who follow her without any notion or capability of ever casting her down. They are perhaps the most useless human beings who have ever polluted God’s Creation].
  12. Globalists: go to hell. Go now. Do not pass go. [I’ve since come to acknowledge that the globos, like the Nazis and the commies, are but tools deployed by our true enemy. This is another chapter of the ongoing war of Christians (and allies) against satanists].
  13. Mr. Jefferson: please pardon the mess. Seems you were right about watering the tree. [I think TJ would be with the rest of the world, wondering why 400 million firearms are still cold and holstered].
  14. I don’t think these trends will reverse. The old America is on the path to civil war or a breakup. I sincerely hope I’m wrong. Prepare as best you can. [Veritas].
  15. There is no point 15. I just added this so some moron won’t call this Perrin’s 14 points. See No. 9, above. [I apologize to myself for caring in the least what people who cannot think might have thought. Shake the dust off, so to speak, and move on].

Part of my hesitation going into this book, or any other about UTR, was my misperception about already having dissected the events. If that pause grips you, then know you really need to read the book. And right now, December 2022, is as fine a time as any. The calamity in Charlottesville only accelerated trends that have been in hard play ever since. Smith’s book is as much a compilation of the mood, structure, and betrayals of UTR as it is a roadmap of sorts for the subsequent atrocities like the Coup of 2020, the J6 setup and betrayal, the economic collapse, the tranny-fication or the world, the Great Hoax and Biowarfare Crime of 2020-, the Saint Floyd summer of love, the Stage Nine White genocide, 2015 – present, the dismal “election” of 2022, the satanic prosecution of the war against civilization amidst the Great Bifurcation, and more. Rather than diminishing the valiant efforts of our people in 2017, the horrors that have followed have only added clarity; Smith’s book, by design or chance, somewhat ties those threads together.

Where I might be tempted to pick a few minor quibbles from the text, I will instead turn them into lessons, well presented and integrated over nearly 400 pages. I am not an activist. And while I shun participation in most “street” activities, I still admire those good people who continue to try to do something. Even as it fades, hope is a wonderful thing to hold dear. The greatest lesson from Charlottesville might be that the game has forever changed for us. We are in a war we didn’t ask for. We are losing (though we will win in the end – it is assured). We still cannot exactly grasp the nature of the war as it manifests in corporeal form. We must never despair; rather, we must march forward, ever hopeful, while exercising a rather generous caution.

Regarding marching and caution, many voices have, from 2017 onwards, decried the rise of certain leaders who may be best described as “fake right.” Tensions in and between our factions and theirs are deeply explored in the book. I note that even Mr. Kessler, who while not necessarily a fraud, is or was certainly new to our side, took or was elevated into a position for which he was not ready. I’m not faulting him, here and now, but there is another great lesson to be learned from his experience. We have always had fakes and traitors in our midst. Long before the queer CIA asset Buckley misled generations of “conservatives,” Judas accepted his paltry silver payment. Some of the newer iterations of this age-old plague, with names like Peterson, Shapiro, and Spencer, either present with vapid emptiness or a malodorous hint of sulfur. They are easier to spot, ignore, or deal with. It’s those like (I suspect) Kessler, who genuinely “convert,” who present special cases that we would do well to remember. Accept the honest scab who crosses over. Just be very hesitant or slow to place such newcomers in positions of authority. This is easier said than done, but again, Smith’s book goes a long way, via examples of what can and will go wrong, toward being able to do it.

When presented with the option by Amazon and Goodreads, I rated the book (or tried to) with a full Five Stars. It is that good, a rare melding of forceful yet dispassionate advocacy with tempered even-handedness. The author is capable of adding extra realism to her well-researched, well-written, and engaging work because she was present for the underlying events. This proves that in limited circumstances, we benefit from select people disregarding my first rule of conflict avoidance. We should be grateful for that. Charlottesville Untold is as interesting as it is educational, another rarity. As I said, read it.

And, now,

Bonus 1

The other day I learned that the Goodles team, led by the amazing GG, deployed the mobile noodle stand in Los Angeles. Watch a quick video of the auspicious event. Still photos are here. I have no idea when they will motor from the Left Coast to the rest of us, but I can say the “Mover & Shaker” Goodles I had were the best boxed instant mac I’ve ever tasted. (Perrin is an unpaid, perhaps unwanted spokesman for Goodles and all things GG). 

Bonus 2

Next week, in lieu of polemical rambling I have a special bit of Christmas fiction for you! Newbies, prepare to meet the inimitable Dr. Ironsides. Old hands, some new stuff and characters are coming. And, thanks to the talented Anna De La Cruz and the venerable Blowing Rocket (NC), you can see a preview picture HERE that sets the mood. 

COLUMN: The Indicator Isn’t Necessarily The Proximate Cause

07 Wednesday Dec 2022

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curse, politics, rule of women AND foreigners, Wrath of God

The Indicator Isn’t Necessarily The Proximate Cause

 

It’s Pearl Harbor Day, for those who happen to read this on December 7th, another day now likely forgotten. But today, we shall briefly discuss the ramifications of allowing incompetents, outsiders, and the illogically-minded control over the government and culture of a nation. Those in the occupied Confederate States of America are aware of this phenomenon, having lived with and under it for some one-hundred-sixty or so years. However, even for us, reminders and extraneous examples are sometimes in order.

An invasion or conquest doesn’t necessarily have to happen in the form of an overt attack, like a radar blip so large and fast-moving that only compromised idiot superiors see it as a “flock of birds.” Mass migration, for example, is generally worse than an outright military attack. The latter is at least visible and demands immediate attention, whereas the former is slower and oftentimes imperceptibly insidious. So too may a people’s judgment lapse concerning who, from within, rules over them. 

If your people come to be ruled over by foreigners, women, or children, then your people are likely under some curse from Almighty God. We were explicitly warned.

“The stranger [aka, the foreigner] that liveth with thee in the land, shall rise up over thee, and shall be higher: and thou shalt go down, and be lower.” 

        • Deuteronomy 28:43

“As for my people, their [some say, “youth(ful)”] oppressors have stripped them, and women have ruled over them.” 

        • Isaiah 3:12

As a practical matter in both the OCSA and the wider USSA, there are not so many examples of literal children or youth ruling directly. Rather, we appear to have partially succumbed to the spectacle of overindulging the whims and expectations of the young (e.g. the dreaded “tyranny of the chicken nugget”), while extending childhood into perpetuity, coupled with a tolerance of allegedly mature leaders who in reality are but emotional or mental children (e.g. pick a Republican). Somewhere on the dark edges might lurk the specter of the terms “youths,” “teens,” “students,” et cetera used euphemistically to describe a certain difficult segment of the population. However, the main focus today is on the foreigners and women who have come to dominate our societies. Here follows a little exemplification that illustrates the Lord’s sincerity regarding the above passages. 

His is a hard case because it involves an entire nation-state besieged by a larger malevolent power, but drag queen Voldemort Zelensky is unlike the hyper-majority of Ukrainians. They are largely Orthodox Christians with ancient ties to Russia, and he is an outsider of a tribe that does not like being noticed. We’ll not get into that and risk accusations of “anti-satanism.” Sadly, the Ukrainians have largely gone along with the seizure of their government, economy, and now, their lives. Ze is, after all, a pitiful puppet of greater, darker authorities, so his part in “his” recent move to ban the Russian Orthodox Church, a major pillar of Ukrainian culture, is a mixed bag regarding the exact nature of his malicious rule. Yet one can only speculate about the hysterical mass reaction if the religions were reversed. Still, the fact that this and so much else has befallen the people would tend to indicate they may have made a few mistakes.

Back in the good old imperial homeland, popular political elections have degenerated to the point that they only amount to picking (when that’s allowed) which women or foreigners guide us into horrendous calamity. So it is that in Minnesota’s Fifth Congressional District, the people, at a time, had a choice between two women, both of whom are foreigners: not-American Ilhan Omar (D – Somalia) and not-American Shukri Abdirahman (R – Somalia). I had never heard of Abdirahman until recently, but she appears to be a pleasant enough foreign woman who goes by the more pronounceable nickname of “Shu.” 

Shu, regardless of her origins, appears to have more brains and balls than all other “Rs” combined. I just read that she sees things as they pretty much are, and she has the wherewithal to say so. In response to the ridiculous fakery of the Musk-Taibbi “revelations” of what was painfully obvious two years ago, she Tweeted:

    • We can no longer get rid of tyranny by the ballots. It’s only by bullets now.
    • I’m done. I regret that I put my life on the line to defend these Nazis, and that so many of my brothers and sisters in arms died for.
    • Two pillars of a successful Republic are election integrity and confidence in our democratic processes. We have neither.
    • This is treason and the real insurrection.
    • This wasn’t by Russia. It’s done by our own fucking government.
    • Just so you know @HillaryClinton, Elon Musk is not suicidal.

By the way, when I tried to look up her Tweets, I was told, “This Tweet violated the Twitter Rules. Learn more.” No thanks, Twits, I get it as-is. So much for Elon savin’ muh freeeeeeee speeeeech. Forget the fact that we knew or could have easily known all of this a long, long time ago; the fact remains that she is right about all of her points. 

We had some semblance of a civilized society. Now, we do not. Now, we are ruled over by a satanic elite who are intent on enslaving or killing us. They control the entire show and we do not. Ergo, there is no voting our way out of this mess. After every damned thing we have suffered, so many Americans still cannot see our new reality. But a foreign woman can.

Note that in Deuteronomy and Isaiah, the foreigners and women themselves are not necessarily the curse. They can be, but usually, they are but a symptom or instrument of God’s punishment for some misdeed(s) His people have committed. Marine le Pen, Giorgia Meloni, that dance party cocaine girl from Finland(?), and the rest may be, of their own governing accord, good or bad. In select cases, they may represent the only viable options. In lovely Shu’s case, she is at least a self-diagnosing symptom-option who literally spells out some of what went wrong. The ultimate fault doesn’t lie with her, Ilhan, Killary, Elon, or any other outsiders or ladies. Rather, it was the White Christian men of America who did many things over many years to incur the Wrath. We did it. 

We have led ourselves, our women, our children, and our friends and guests into a situation where the only outcomes appear to be living as slaves, dying, or fighting a war of reclamation. Wars are not fought with and certainly not won with ballots, lawsuits, Congressional hearings, criminal charges, or media lies. As a pretty Somali woman once suggested, they are won with bullets. Now, if only some solution to this grand riddle would present itself…

“Q” Redux

02 Friday Dec 2022

Posted by perrinlovett in Other Columns

≈ Comments Off on “Q” Redux

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Q, Reckonin'

My Q column is up at Reckonin’. Check that out.

And I see that Dr. Wilson has a comparison between Vladimir Putin, real leader of Russia, and what passes for leadership in dying Yankee empire.

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Perrin Lovett

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