So there are very few people I will do plugs for on my blog. Generally speaking, I keep this blog free of advertising and other such things. It is my outlet – shared with my co-contributors – for observations about the wider world. But on occasion, a good friend will create something so interesting that I absolutely must share it with my readers.
Francis and I both know the author Travis Corcoran quite well. I’ve been up to his farm before, so believe me when I say that everything he talks about doing is stuff I’ve seen in person. I think the best burgers I’ve ever had in my life were served at Travis’s farm – from sheep which he had raised himself. Travis knows what he’s talking about. He has started a Kickstarter for a book in which he shares his knowledge. And in light of the insanity we’re seeing in the cities these days… well, I think his timing could not have been better.
God knows (and I do not invoke Him lightly), that I’d like to have a farm someday. It is beyond my means at the present moment for a number of reasons – but you better believe I’m going to have hardcover copies of his books on my shelf for when that time comes. And it’s worth noting that if the craziness going on today escalates far enough… well, I’d like to think most of my readers have read Lucifer’s Hammer. Our current political situation isn’t equivalent to an asteroid impact, but when I see libertarians calling forth the Sweet Meteor of Death on social media, I have to wonder if God won’t grant their wish.
In any event, I can be quite lazy when it suits me, and so to have a handy tome to reference for all of the things I don’t know that I don’t know is excellent. Sign up for a copy of this book – you won’t be disappointed.
So some of my readers may have been wondering why I’ve been a little quiet lately. Wonder no more. I’ll be writing a regular weekly column for Milo’s new Dangerous.com site. My usual blog posts will continue here, of course.
The first article can be found here (please comment on it there): THALES: Curious About Helicopterism? Let Me Explain. There I got into detail about a sort of gallows humor meme many of my readers may be familiar with.
This is a pretty big milestone by my accounting. I want to thank some of the folks that have helped my writing get to this point. Tom Kratman, Sarah Hoyt, and Francis Porretto have been huge influences, and I never would have made it this far without them.
More to come!
Truly, I was hoping for some more insight into the motives and background of Stephen Paddock, the perpetrator of the Las Vegas shooting, but it appears even a week later, facts are thin on the ground and few definitive conclusions have been made. It was a very unusual attack, such that if a man wrote a movie script with such a character, I’d dismiss it as completely implausible. I do hope something is discovered soon, for the conspiracy theories have already multiplied and grown several new legs in the days since.
On a more positive note, Francis, the proprietor of Liberty’s Torch, has released a new book. as of last week. A few snippets from the book were released earlier and were quite intriguing. With all the crazy news we’ve heard lately about the demented state of Hollywood, from Joss Whedon’s ex-wife outing him as a philanderer who took advantage of women in his employ, to the current case of Harvey Weinstein, a story about sexual slavery and perversion (but with a genetic engineering twist) is most appropriate for the times. Give Innocents a try if you’re looking for an appropriate read. I’ll post a full review later, when I get out from under this mountain of work I’ve made for myself.
If you haven’t seen it already, give this Project Veritas video a watch. I don’t know how James O’Keefe manages to get all these folks to admit their agendas so openly, although in this video we hear a woman’s voice, so possibly he used the honeypot technique. But I’ll be damned if he isn’t doing some of God’s own work here. We get all sorts of connections here, between Comey, Antifa, and the New York Times. None of these are surprising, per se, but to hear them freely admitted is relatively new.
Lastly, in light of current events I wanted to bring some more attention to an older post of mine: RadFems, Cenobites, and the Lament Configuration. We are seeing Hollywood and politicians getting exposed for this kind of hypocritical behavior more often lately. I’m not entirely sure why – some have speculated that the power of old print media waning has deprived them of cover, others suspect it a sort of housecleaning on the Left, where the old Clintonistas are getting kicked out from under their protective umbrella in light of her loss to Trump. But whatever the reason, the contradictions are starting to see daylight.
The trouble is the hypocrisy of it all, the person who protests Nazis, then wants to be beaten by a Nazi, the person who says all sex is rape, and then fucks a dozen guys in a cocaine-fueled mega orgy.
If you want to experience these things, and admit it to yourself, that is one thing. But the next day, you are suddenly a neo-Puritan? The standard bearer for why every time a guy in front of his computer jerks off, he’s committing the equivalent of rape? You say you are anti-fascist, dressing in black and either pretending to be a Nazi, or wanting to be dominated by one?
And so the TV cameras come out, and you’re Cotton Mather, praising the Salem Witch Trials… while at night, you are the witch. Who is the real you? These people are so very confused.
Most of Leftist politics, at least from these people, is pure theater. During the day, they are paragons of proper behavior. Why, they are almost Puritan-like, save for the fact that they don’t worship any stupid sky wizards because they are Brights, or something. But at night, they are something else entirely – ruled by drugs and lust.
It’s about time people started noticing the hypocrisy and speaking of it openly.
Perusing the usual suspects today, I came across an excellent piece by the esteemed Sarah Hoyt. In it, she discusses just why so many people turn against the notion of freedom and liberty. Why does Orwell tell us that Freedom = Slavery, and how can such a notion enter in man’s head? Observe:
A Libertarian friend of mine thinks this is because people like being slaves; they like servitude.
He is wrong. It’s not that people love being slaves. It’s that freedom is scary, because if you’re free you can fail AND YOU ONLY HAVE YOURSELF TO BLAME.
Bingo. As I’ve been saying for quite some time now, what these people truly desire is freedom from consequence. That is what power is ultimately all about. Why are some people attracted to the idea of Fatalism? The notion that everything is fated to be and you can’t change anything? Because it absolves them of responsibility.
If, for instance, millions had to die to bring about the Marxist Revolution, there is an easy out: it was inevitable, says the historical dialectic. Capitalism, they say, must give way to Communism. Thus the heaps of bodies necessary to get there are not really your fault… they were an inevitable result of Fate.
Of course, that’s a rather extreme example. Lesser examples can be found in current notions of racism/sexism/etc… America is probably one of the least discriminatory places on Earth. It was founded on the notion of meritocracy, and where it was imperfect in this (see: slavery, Jim Crow, etc…) it endeavored to fix the problems.
Does anyone really believe that, say, Saudi Arabia is more tolerant than the United States?
Yet so many shout “racism, sexism, homophobia” from the rooftops. Why? Because it absolves them of responsibility. If a person screws up, he might blame the racist white people, or the misogynistic men, or the glass ceiling. The actual target doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s not his fault does.
These people are willingly throwing away their own agency, the idea that they might possess free will, in order to escape feeling bad for failure. When you see it from that angle, suddenly Sarah’s observation is made clear. These people are afraid, not of you or I, but of themselves, of their own failings and insecurities. These are then projected upon us. We become the scapegoats for their own inadequacies.
Sarah explains further:
It’s no coincidence that America, arguably the freest country in the world, when it comes to pursuing the avocation you want to pursue and being successful (or not) is also the birth place of SJWs and Micro aggressions. It’s no coincidence that it’s in America, a country that prizes women so much it’s almost a matriarchy, that women keep insisting they live in a patriarchy and grossly oppressed. (All without realizing how much more oppressive even other western countries are. Let alone places where your genitals will be mutilated for the crime of being a girl.)
These things are done, and eternal oppression forever claimed, because humans don’t want to be slaves. Oh, no. They want to be free. Completely free to do whatever they want. They also want someone to blame as they fail.
In order for us to be blamed for their failures, we must be visibly punished for the sins of those failures. When Zoe Quinn “codes” a crappy word document and tries to pass it off as a video game, it’s not her utter failure as a game dev that is to blame, it is the sexist patriarchal establishment. When she had sex with video game journalists to get coverage for said game, and got caught, that wasn’t her fault, it was the fault of her woman-hating ex-boyfriend.
Nothing is ever Zoe Quinn’s fault. Nothing whatsoever.
In this, they are slaves to their animalistic instincts. They have lost the capacity for reason, insofar as a normal man might make a mistake, learn from the mistake, and resolve not to repeat it. Since the mistake is always someone else’s fault, SJWs never learn from them.
But they do become exceptionally good at spin, lies, rationalizations, politics, and blaming others. Practice makes perfect, after all, and few have as much practice in these arts as a militant SJW and/or Marxist.
You’re going to have to take your freedom, your failure, and your guilt about your failure, as one single deal. This is called being an adult.
At one time there used to be much psycho-babble about fear of success. Frankly I thought — and still think — this is bullsh*t. Everyone i know who claims a fear of success aren’t terrified of being acclaimed, rich and famous. No, what they fear is that they’ll succeed just enough for everyone to realize how they failed. Say, they’ll have a bestselling book, but the websphere will be on fire with word of their horrendous typos, or their ignorance of chemistry or something.
I’ve even been guilty of this once in a while. I’ve flubbed more than a few things on The Declination in my time, and on occasion a reader will call me out on the mistake. And I must admit a brief moment of unpleasantness. Worse than that is when it happens when I am performing. I’m a club DJ in my other life, which is to say I mix and remix live, on the fly. This leaves me open to occasional screw ups (in the DJ business, we call these trainwrecks). It sucks to have made a mistake in full view of the world, and to have hundreds or thousands of people staring at you, knowing you screwed up.
But the unpleasantness is just a reminder to pay better attention the next time around and to learn from the mistake, not to pass it off or ignore it. To the SJW, the unpleasantness, rather than being something of a teacher, is instead an emotion to be suppressed by rationalization. It’s not really my fault, thinks the SJW. And upon thinking this, he must find a scapegoat to offload the blame on to.
Sarah closes with this:
Adulting sucks. But it is what you must be, if you want to have your freedom and eat it too.
Shut up about it, take the bitter with the sweet, shoulder the awesome burden of your freedom and carry on.
And this is the rub of it all. SJWs and militant Marxists refuse to grow up. They are afraid of growing up. Because the age-old excuse of the toddler “it’s not fair” will no longer hold sway. When the adult hears that line, his response is bewilderment: “who told you life was fair, bub?”
And it isn’t, nor will it ever be. It’s not the purpose in life. So what is? Well, I suppose that depends on the individual take on it, but in this blogger’s opinion, the purpose is to leave this world a better, wiser soul than when you entered it. SJWs, it would seem, have a long way to go.
Social Justice Warriors often tell us that games are not just games, and books are not just books. Everything must be political with them, from the movie theater to the arcade. Naturally, I’ve long disagreed with them on this matter. Sometimes, the political impact of a thing is minimal, if even present at all, and it is merely entertainment. After all, where is the grand political metaphor in a battle between giant robots and giants monsters? If you want to tell me that the new Quake Champions game being peddled by Bethsheda is somehow a matter of politics, please take this moment to laugh at yourself in my stead.
And yet, there is a grain of truth to their statement, if not precisely in the way SJWs mean it. I was pondering this the other day, when a friend and I were talking about the latest Star Wars flicks. Yes, we all know the prequels were generally atrocious, and what little was interesting was contained only in the last installment. The new Star Wars movies were at least a little more entertaining, but even they were shallow, ephemeral things. They were strictly popcorn-and-soda flicks.
So what did the original trilogy have that the successors lacked?
In this writer’s opinion, it was an enduring mythos, a sort of cultural memory embedded within it. A farm boy took to the stars and became a warrior, trained by what amounts to a religious monk of an ancient, dying order. A princess was trying to save her world, and an evil wizard hunted them all in the name of Imperial power. You could have stripped the story of high technology, and set the whole thing in the middle ages, and it still would have made sense. Yes, even the all-powerful superweapon. Replace the Death Star with Urban’s great cannon, throwing its weight against the walls of Constantinople, or something.
Now try that with the other stories, and you will find that they are utter disasters. They don’t operate on their own anymore. Now it’s a franchise cashing in on nostalgia more than anything.
Of all the cultural myths, the farm boy who became something greater may have been the most powerful. Ye gods, we once practically worshiped this idea. It was one of the enduring features of American culture, as distinct from the various European cultures that spawned it. You see, if our farmers and fishermen could throw out the British, of all people, was there anything truly beyond us? We didn’t need noblemen, you see. We had farmers. We didn’t need warriors, we had soldiers. There was no need for great nobles, or learned men of haute culture. We could bootstrap it all ourselves.
The farm boy might become a great philosopher, or an astronaut, or a general. He might become a President or a Congressman. Perhaps he would be the next great scientist or engineer. He didn’t need the pedigree of an aristocrat, or the brand name of some noble house. He didn’t need to go to the grandest of colleges, or know all the right people. He didn’t need to have the correct political opinions if, indeed, he even bothered much with politics at all. If you could do the job, you could do anything, and it didn’t much matter what dusty mid-western farm you crawled out of.
Of course, in practice, this idea was never quite so solid. Connections still mattered, credentials still mattered, and a rich man of the city would have an easier time than a poor man of the country. So it has always been, and so it likely always will be. Nonetheless, American culture remained very resistant to the idea of rule by a cultural elite, an embedded aristocracy who could heap disdain upon the peasantry from their lofty towers. The farmer still stubbornly believed that he could make it, and the academic knew not to be too haughty, lest he be toppled from the ivory tower.
Today, that’s all backwards. Heaping disdain upon the peasants of the flyover states and the South is all the rage among our supposedly-learned castes. There can be no more Luke Skywalkers in Star Wars, that is to say no more farm boys who ascend to the highest levels. If Star Wars was written by today’s establishment, Luke would have to be a girl who suffered oppression by the bigoted farm boys, then escaped to the Empire (which was, of course, politically correct and ruled by wise, learned Socialist oligarchs) to wield its military might against the hicks and unlearned morons of Planet Redneck.
Such disdain is everywhere, now. It’s not hard to find in the media, in entertainment, or social media. Some time ago, I remember watching a Youtube video where a man with a strong Southern accent went to great lengths to demonstrate his education and intelligence, discussing complex matters of science, history, and philosophy in an effort to disprove the notion that a Southern accent somehow implies stupidity. I remember wondering why this was even necessary. I’ve met many intelligent, educated individuals in the South, and I’ve encountered no more idiots here than in the other places I’ve been to. Why would this even have to be disproved?
Then it hit me. The new American myth, carefully constructed by the SJWs and their ilk, is that farmers are stupid. Mechanics are dumb. Plumbers only ply their trade because they are too stupid to take gender studies courses. And since they are all idiots, of course their children must be idiots too. Indeed, they are all far too stupid to be permitted a say in how their own lives are run. As Tom Nichols once explained to me: Americans are too stupid to read maps, so why bother informing them about terrorist incidents? Being something of a Centrist, Tom is more charitable than most of the Leftists, whose disdain is much more direct. To those folks, America (and by extension, Americans themselves) is nothing more than a backward nation full of bigots, greedy thieves, murderers, and utter morons in desperate need of extinction.
Sometimes I wonder if the British once thought this way, too. Before the Revolutionary War, did they consider Americans to be stupid hicks? Did they see us as rednecks too dumb to manage our own affairs? Did they send their ships, soldiers, and mercenaries thinking the victory would be easy, because, damn, are those farmers stupid? We all know how that ended up.
But now, a two and a half centuries later, we’re back to where we started. The anointed, ivory tower aristocrats telling us what’s good for us — when we all know it’s a steaming pile of horse manure constructed solely to fool enough good people to keep the nobles planted atop their wobbly thrones. Their underestimation of the regular folks in the world, the farm boys and plumbers, may be what saves us, in the end. After all, it’s worked for America before, time and time again. It’s why, despite all the agitprop to the contrary, today America still remains the most powerful nation on Earth.
Whether it will be so tomorrow, I can’t say. All I can say is the politically-connected elite may soon be getting a refresher course in America’s most enduring and powerful cultural mythos. And that, my friends, is a story I’d pay money to read.
English is a weird language. Because of its Norman French heritage, and the Germanic structure beneath that, there are usually at least two English words that mean more or less the same thing. However, there is usually a sense of one being higher, more intellectual, or at least more appropriate for certain settings. Consider these two phrases:
A hearty welcome.
A cordial reception.
They both mean more or less the same thing. But where the former brings to mind a hearth-and-home greeting, the latter brings to mind a much more formal affair. As it so happens, the words in the first are Germanic in origin, and the latter are French in origin. The same pattern is more or less repeated across the entire English language.
It’s a pig when it is on the farmer’s field. Germanic. But it is pork when it is on your plate. French.
A lot of folks write predominantly in one register or the other, even when the opposite is more appropriate. If, for instance, you went into a biker bar and started using a bunch of high register terms, you would likely be seen as pretentious, even something of an asshole. You might just get your ass kicked. And if you were to attend a high society ball full of pseudo-intellectuals using low register and slang, it won’t be long before you stop receiving their invitations.
Vox Day has pointed out something similar with regards to a Japanese author who wrote several novels in English. Since the author’s knowledge of the language was less than that of a native speaker, he wound up using more simplistic constructions. And, in the process, wrote several award-winning, well-received works.
Sometimes the simple will do. And as often, the pretentious will actually hurt your work.
Here on The Declination I frequently switch between styles. There is an intellectual style, composed predominantly of the high register and a rant-and-rave style mostly using the low register and even outright offensive slang. It is telling that, throughout my life, it has been the rant-and-rave that has received the most positive attention. Apparently I am better at using the low register than the high.
But here’s the interesting sidebar: the high register is not necessarily a mark of intelligence. This is a fallacy that many people succumb to. If only, they think, I were to speak using big words, people would take me seriously. Others use the high register to intentionally confuse the people they are speaking to. Lawyers, politicians, and speechwriters are famous for doing this.
The low register thus retains a certain honest quality that the high register lacks. It’s hard to bullsh*t in the low register.
I’m not saying everyone should write with a low-brow, rant-and-rave style. What I am saying, however, is that using high prose is not always a benefit, and indeed can work against you at times. When writing, ask yourself why you are using a “big” word. If it is because the word is appropriate for what you are communicating, go right ahead. A story may have many cordial receptions, so to speak. But if your reason is because you wish to sound smart, consider the possibility that instead of making you seem intelligent, it may just make you look like a pretentious fool.
And, with the exception of the Hugo Awards of late (and John Scalzi in particular), pretentious fools don’t usually win anything.