The Wager

A short story

When I come to, I'm in an elevator of sorts.  The old-fashioned kind with a lever, it's mostly made of wood, and dimly lit.  There is an attendant.

"Ticket please," he asks.

"I don't have a ticket."  But he nods towards my hand.  And of course, I am holding a ticket.  I look at it.  It's stamped with only two possibilities, Heaven or Hell.  Of course, my ticket is punched Hell.

So right there, in the elevator, jumbled memories flow...

I remember my early life in a protestant church run more like a petty, gossipy social club than an institution of faith.  My parents dragging us all to church more for show than out of any sense of deeply held religious conviction.  I remember Christmas pageants with dubious casting, Vacation Bible School in the fellowship hall, and the Red-Letter Bible the congregation presented to me when I formally joined the church as an adolescent.  They had my name inscribed on the cover.  I still have it.

I recall later losing whatever faith the church instilled in me.  But was it faith?  Or just a young person going through the motions in small town America?  In fact, as a young child, the most important lesson I learned in church was the value of sitting still.  Otherwise I'd be beaten when we got home.  Surely, that's faith of a sort.  The faith of Pavlov's dog.

Decades later, I remember Bart Ehrman had a huge impact on my parents.  I think he gave them the permission they sought to leave the church.  And their faith.  But I do not trust him because he only criticizes Christianity and never has much to say about other religions.  Yes, I realize he is a New Testament scholar and I'm sure he would argue that he simply sticks to his knitting.  But I find it odd to advance disbelief without some mention of other faith systems.  It makes me question the former evangelical's motives.

I remember that Daniel Dennett reminded me of an heretical Santa Claus, and consequently, I could never take him seriously.  I know I should be embarrassed to admit this.  But I'm not.

I also remember the ever thoughtful Sam Harris and his books The End of Faith and Letter to a Christian Nation.

I recall Harris debating some famous brain dead actor on national television.  Only the completely ignorant and incurious can muster the actor's level of self-righteous anger.

I remember the courage of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, who also has to deal with ignorant, incurious, self-righteous anger from people much more immediately dangerous than some sciolistic actor.  People of faith.

I remember Richard Dawkins' hand-painted neckties.

I remember the movies Spotlight and Philomena.

But I also remember It's a Wonderful Life.  And the numinous wedding scene in The Sound of Music.

I remember it was the fourth horseman who made the subtle but important distinction between the numinous and the supernatural.  He then went on to...

The attendant clears his throat.

No, I did not expect to be here in this elevator.  I expected nothing.

I realize that I'm still looking at the ticket.  "Heaven" I announce weakly.  The attendant looks at me rather skeptically, but pushes the lever forward and holds it there.  I recall vaguely that the lever was sometimes called a deadman switch.  Quite so.

It's a slow journey upwards and it gives me time to gather my thoughts.  But not enough time.  The doors creak open and I can see the pearly gates.  Just as described by the faithful.  But I expected a line; I needed a line for more time.

"Where's the line?" I mutter.

As the elevator doors close, I hear the attendant saying, "No lines in Heaven."

There's a gatehouse, an office of sorts, and Saint Peter looks up and sighs.  "I'm pretty sure your ticket is otherwise punched young man."  I'm well north of fifty, but I guess everyone is young to the first apostle.

"I was hoping there's some type of appeal process."

"Hmm...well, anything is possible here.  But you'll have to take it up with the Boss."

There may be no lines in heaven, but there is a rather large waiting room.  Saint Peter points me to it.  There is a sign over the door that says Purgatory.  "You can wait there."  Peter says.

Purgatory is like a large doctor's office waiting room.  I find a seat and just as I am sitting down, an angel with a clipboard appears in a doorway on the other side of the vast chamber.  She calls out loudly, "Hitchens.  Christopher Hitchens."  I see Hitch rise from a near slumber.  I don't know how he managed it, but I swear he's holding two fingers of Johnnie Walker Black in one hand and the latest issue of Vanity Fair in the other.  As he makes his way across the room, he looks like he's off to another debate with some poor theologian.  But I can no longer share his confidence.  I mean, here we are.

If they are just now getting to Hitchens, looks like I am going to be here for some time.  Unlike a doctor's office waiting room, and unless you are Christopher Hitchens, there is no reading material in Purgatory.  Not even five-year-old National Geographics.  And I've left my iPhone somewhere.  I look around and apparently everyone else has as well.  No, there is only one thing to do here in Purgatory.  Sit and ponder.

About a thousand years later, the angel calls my name.  I make my way across the chamber, down a corridor, and enter what looks very similar to a courtroom.

The Lord is sitting at the bench starring at a computer.  He looks up, "Ah yes, I have your file here."

"I did not expect You'd be computerized Lord."

"Neither did I.  But Steve Jobs showed up a few years back and brought me a Mac.  Revolutionized the place.  So much better than that contraption Henry Ford brought Me a few decades earlier.

"Now I see that We've judged you guilty of lack of faith, disbelief, and general heterodoxy.  Is that so?"

"Yes Lord, I am guilty of that offense."

The Lord grimaces, "You did not believe in Me?  You lived a life without Me?"

"Sadly, yes my Lord."

"Well it's a pretty clear cut case; you don't belong here.  What am I missing?"

By now, I have had lots of time to consider how I would answer the Lord.  "Well Lord, it is true that I lived a life without You.  But I did live by two principles which I think You approve of."

The Lord gestured that I could continue.

"Well the first of these is Treat others the way you wish to be treated."

"That's the Golden Rule and you can find it in the Bible," the Lord interrupted.

"Yes Lord, but it need not be.  I would argue that it is entirely practical.  We may treat others well out of the goodness of our heart or because You command it.  Or we may not.  But one reason to treat others well is that we hope that they will return the favor.  Some don't, but most do."

"And your second principle?" asks the Lord.

"My second principle was Live and let live.  Most people agree with it in theory.  Just ask them.  But very few seem to be able to follow it in practice.  People want other people to believe in their god, to join their church or political party or environmental crusade, and to basically think and act like themselves.  This seems to be human nature.  And when others fail to do so, this can and does lead to various levels of separation and dispute.

"I always thought that unless someone is hurting someone else, I needed to respect their choices and leave them alone."

"Yes, yes, very wise" sayeth the Lord.

"Anyway, I tried very hard to live my life by these two principles."

"Yes, your record indicates a good life.  Perhaps not exemplary, but on balance a very good life."

"I'm no saint, my Lord."

"No one has to be my child.  Now, that's all well and good, but you still lacked faith."

"Yes Lord, and I have had lots of time to think about it.  And here is the question that I wish to put to You:  Does lack of faith make me a bad person, ineligible for heaven and eternal salvation?"

"Well that is Our precedent, yes."

"Then Lord, with all due respect, You are correct, I don't belong here.  You agree I lived a good life, but insist upon belief that I could not find."

And then a most surprising thing happened.  Unbeknownst to me, Saint Peter had slipped into the back of the courtroom.  And suddenly he spoke.  "May I be heard, my Lord?"

"Of course Peter, always."

"Lord, I have been the Keeper of Your Gates for some time now.  And I can tell You that we have admitted many many applicants with faith, but also with, hmm, how should I put this?  Less than stellar records.

"Of course, they're all believers, and they've all asked for and received Your forgiveness for their transgressions.  We only admit the truly penitent.  But nonetheless, my Lord...well, You've seen the records Yourself.

"Honestly Lord, for some of these characters, I often wonder if faith is not merely an excuse for misbehavior?  It's as if faith itself is some form of indulgence."

"What are you saying Peter?"

"Well Lord, I'm asking:  Can we not weigh actions and motivations along with faith?"

"Of course Peter, but faith is paramount."

"Then Lord, I would like to ask for a pardon for this applicant.  Like You said, while his record is not exemplary, it is far better than some of our...current residents."

The Lord turns back to me.  "You have a worthy advocate in Peter, but what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Well Lord, I was wrong and if it is not too late, I would like to ask for Your forgiveness.  While alive, I never had faith.  But standing here before You, I have to believe."

"Of course it's too late; that's why we're here."  He thundered.  He went back to His computer and I thought we were done.  I turned to go and accept my fate...

But then He added quietly, "Nevertheless, pardon granted.  You can thank Peter on your way through My gates."

Suddenly relieved and grateful, I meekly ask:  "And Hitchens, my Lord?"

God looks up and smiles.  "What a character, that guy.  You know, he stood right there where you are, and said, hmm wait a second, here, I had it transcribed.  He said:  Lord, I hope You noticed that I didn't try and curry favor.  That I was honestly unable to believe in the claims made by Your human... spokespersons.  Standing before You, I no longer have to take the word of other humans on the necessary propitiations and gestures and subjections that I have to submit myself to, in order to qualify.  But Lord, I cannot and will not be servile.  You'll have to judge me on the life that I led.  Can you imagine?"

Frankly I could imagine.  That sounded exactly like something Hitchens would say.

God went on:  "I had to admit that many of those whom he euphemistically referred to as My spokespersons are not here and will never be here.

"Anyway, I stopped him there, and granted him divine dispensation and had Peter admit him forthwith.  There is just no way I could deliver such a clever chap to the devil."

"But aren't you worried that he'll cause unrest here Lord?"  I ask.

Then God said:  "Well, it did not take him long to realize that he's dead and he's here.  I'm pretty sure, he'll come around.  Like you, he now has his evidence.

"Anyway, just imagine how much more interesting our dinner parties will be with him here.  In fact, I'm having him and Mother Teresa over this evening.  It'll be a hoot.  You're welcome to join us."

Thank You Lord.

Author's note

Britannica has a brief synopsis of Pascal's wager here.  

Pascal did not say that we should not weigh evidence, and as a scientist, I have no doubt that he did.  But his wager demonstrates that ultimately faith is a choice, and evidence, either way and to whatever extent, is irrelevant.  Faith is a choice we make in spite of doubt.

It is interesting to note that Pascal did not come to his faith as a result of his wager.  Rather, he crafted his wager as a logical exercise to buttress his existing faith.  Does that diminish the logical progression of his argument and certainty of his conclusion?  Have faith because it is too risky to not have faith.  I don't find that terribly convincing.  Perhaps we can come to faith ignoring evidence.  But can faith be sincere without conviction?  If God sees all, what is the efficacy of faith without conviction?  Pascal suggests that the probabilities of his wager don't matter, only the possible outcomes:  Infinite happiness or infinite suffering or mere finite existence.  Choose one.  And believe accordingly.  Can it be as simple as that?  We all must decide for ourselves.

As a counter to Pascal's non-evidentiary (to coin a usage) thesis, I had to include the fourth horseman, Christopher Hitchens, in the story.  At the time of his death ten years ago, Hitchens was arguably the most famous atheist in the world.  Certainly the most erudite.  Believing that religion was not only unsupported by evidence, but also positively harmful, he described himself as an anti-theist.  Hitchens wrote for Vanity Fair for nearly twenty years.  His counterargument?  What can be asserted without evidence can also be dismissed without evidence.  Again, can it be as simple as that?  We all must decide for ourselves.

Personally, I've always found people of faith who are willing to admit doubt much more compelling than people of faith with no doubt whatsoever.  But I would like to see all people of faith express a curiosity that extends beyond their own belief system.  It would be good for them, and good for all of us.  Frankly, I find the faithful's lack of curiosity... unforgivable.  And dangerous.

As for the atheists, the first thing that we must acknowledge is that they do not have a duty to prove a negative.  Of course not.  But I have come to believe that the vast majority of them are among the most fervently religious of us all.  They have simply replaced faith in the divine with faith in government.  Their willingness to believe in the efficacy of government, without evidence and often in the face of evidence to the contrary, is indeed an article of faith.  While certainly not true in every case (see the self-described secular conservative, Heather Mac Donald), the correlation between secular beliefs and leftist political thought is astounding.  Government is their religion, and the irony is completely lost on them.

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Neopronouns Are For All of Us

Modern Compelled Speech

I wanted to write something about what's going on with pronouns.  But in order to do justice to the topic, I just did not know where to begin.  You see, little pronouns are big these days.  Luckily, UNC Greensboro had me covered with a handy one page explanation.

Find the original document just below.  Or click here to view it on their website.  Or start here:  UNCG:  Why Pronouns Matter.  Good stuff.

Sure, this is completely insane.  But my problem is not that transgender, non-binary, and/or gender nonconforming people use factitious pronouns (I note the document's passive voice construction).  They can be as crazy as they wish.  We can all be as crazy as we wish.

The first problem is right there in the first sentence:  Pronouns are words that a person may use to identify themselves instead of their name.  But unless you are in the habit of talking about yourself in the third person, surely the pronouns that you use to identify yourself are I and me and we.  It seems to me that what we have here is a very basic and fundamental misunderstanding of third person pronouns.  They are not ours in the sense that we do not typically use them when referring to ourselves.  No, these pronouns belong to others.  So that is my first problem:  Do we have a right to dictate other people's language?  Obviously, some people believe that we do.

Now some will argue:  Well, proper names are also used by others; and since we don't speak about ourselves in the third person, it is rare to use our own name when referring to ourselves.  And yet, no one would argue that your name is not your own.  But a name is a unique identifier for a person.  That is the definition of proper name.  On the other hand, pronouns are general, generic identifying substitutes.  If we make pronouns our own, they would become unique and lose their raison d'être.  Why?  Because they would then also become names.

But the larger problem with neopronouns is that their users and advocates expect us to join them in their madness.  They expect us to use their lexical creations.  And they further expect us to state our own pronouns in order to validate their insanity and grant the exercise some measure of legitimacy.

Now this may seem like a fairly benign exercise:  My name is Ben, and my pronouns are he/him.  What's the big deal?  But by participating in this exercise, you are signaling that you accept that pronouns are unsettled and subject to change, misuse, reversal, or outright fabrication.  And further, the reason pronouns are unsettled is because gender is fluid.  It's no big deal for Ben, but the problem is that it gives Xe license to run wild.  It is not so much that gender is non-binary, it is rather that gender is infinite, but at the same time evidently classifiable in the form of neopronouns.

Gender was once an exclusively grammatical term referring to words and language.  As best I can tell, we started applying this word to people in the late 20th century.  Fine, language changes.  Today, we generally view sex as a biological and therefore binary, and gender as a social construct and therefore non-binary.  To me, unless you argue that gender and sex are perfect synonyms, this distinction seems as valid as any other.  But it does present a problem.  Once we leave the moorings of binary biological reality, we enter a world of infinite possible creation.  And when coupled with insanity where does that take us?  All you have to do is a quick Google search to find out.  Here's a New York Times piece worth reading.

Think of it this way.  You go to a dinner party and there are maybe a dozen people there.  One person introduces herself this way:  My name is Mary Smith, and I am from the planet Ægir – in all seriousness.  Polite people may respond with:  Oh, I see.  But it takes an Orwellian atmosphere of intimidation for everyone there to then feel compelled to say:  Oh, nice to meet you Mary.  My name is Ben Johnson, and I am from Earth.  That's not tolerance or politeness, that's coercion.

But that is not all.  The document above suggests that you might even want to inquire how exactly to pronounce Ægir.  You know, it's important to get these things right.  Postmodern etiquette?  Merely contemporary good manners in the face of now acceptable subjective reality?  Or obsequious attentiveness to madness?

And then there's this:  Some people will use more than one set of pronouns, and you are encouraged to alternate among them in conversation.  Remember, they expect you to enter their fantasy world.  And if you refuse...what?  Well, some might begin to suspect you're some sort of bigot.  Just imagine the shame.

Here's a quick thought experiment.  Would it not be easier for everyone if we used sex to determine pronouns rather than gender?  I think the reason that this is not possible is that the people who argue most stridently that gender is fluid also believe that sex is meaningless.  Once you accept that a transgender woman is the same as a real woman, sex is irrelevant.

Some questions

So where does that leave us?  Sadly, the question becomes:  How far does one go to meet the demands of insanity?  And even if you argue tolerance above all, and politeness is best, when does politeness end and truth begin?  At a dinner party?  In a university lecture?  Testimony before congress?  How about a pre-op conversation with your oncologist?

Our Mary Smith, from the dinner party, was born in Topeka.  When does that matter?  Does it ever matter?

More questions:  Is Mary Smith insane?  Or is she a complete narcissist?  Or both?  And does that matter?  This gets us closer to the root of the problem.  I mean this nonsense is rife on college campuses today.  Can they all be insane?  Or have we simply raised a generation of narcissists?

And this is why neopronouns have exploded.  No self-respecting sui generis narcissist wants to use someone else's pronouns, much less something as mundane as he or she.  Of course not.  By definition, these narcissists are without equal.  They'll create their own unique pronouns, thank you very much.  And fully expect you to use them.  Be sure to write them down and get the pronunciation correct.  And for those who are not super narcissists, but perhaps have only a somewhat narcissistic personality, you know, your garden-variety narcissists; they may be happy to use non-original but sufficiently esoteric neopronouns because they still achieve the goal.

Now you may ask, what is the goal?  Look at me, I'm special, I'm so special that I have my own special descriptors, look at me!  Look. At. Me.  I insist.

But what we really have are narcissists and cowards and tyrants:  The narcissists who demand others refer to them as Xe, the cowards who indulge them, and the tyrants who enforce the madness.

What is going on here?

Now, I have no doubt that there is quite a bit of overlap between these three groups:  The narcissists and the cowards and the tyrants.  But just for a moment, let's consider these as three distinct groups.

We can just about understand the narcissists and the cowards, right?  Don't like them, but we have all met them and understand them.  Best to ignore them.  Surely, let's not contribute to their psychopathology.  If you can ignore your narcissistic colleague or neighbor, I urge you to treat these people the same way.

To me, it is the enforcers that are so interesting.  We are talking about university types here.  Both students and faculty.  Oh, and the countless ancillary bureaucrats attached to the modern university.  With their idle...little minds.  Sure, some of these people are certifiable.  But all of them?  Just can't be.

It is important to understand that university communities are moving from mere encouragement to use preferred personal pronouns, to vigorous insistence on it.  Some have made it mandatory, threatening students and staff with disciplinary action for failing to observe and/or participate in the new standard.  More will follow.  And no doubt the good little conformists they produce are already carrying this nonsense with them into the workplace.

We need to add that labeling pronouns preferred has become taboo.  You see, preferred implies that their use is optional.  And if your proper name is mandatory, so are your pronouns.  Today's bien-pensants simply refer to these as personal pronouns.

One final note on the latest tenets of pronoun usage.  If one fails to offer their preferred personal pronouns, that's perfectly fine.  But, we should then make no assumptions about what their pronouns may be.  So instead we should use their name in place of pronouns altogether.  Each and every time:  Ben had a paper due yesterday.  But Ben turned it in late.  It is not like Ben to be late.  My guess is that the awkward language is purposefully designed to encourage everyone to offer pronouns.  Most people, especially young people, don't like to be singled out.  No Ben, we don't have to speak like that about you; but you never gave us your pronouns.  Why don't you do that now?  So Ben, too, adopts preferred personal pronouns and accepts all that goes with it – Just like everyone else.

So what are they up to?

Two things come to mind.  One, old Soviet-style humiliation.  They want to coerce you into publicly stating something you know is untrue.  They know it is untrue.  And they know that you know that it is untrue.  And they know that you know that they know.  But there is power in coercing you to not only state an untruth, but also to help them enforce it.  With all due and proper self-righteousness comrade.  Yes, there's real power in forced self-humiliation.

I have used the North Korean example before.  When the Dear Leader died, all, and I do mean all, good little North Koreans wept uncontrollably.  Why?  Did they really believe that a great man had just died?  The idea is ridiculous.  No, it was simple fear of the powerful.  And fear that their family, friends, and colleagues might turn them in.  For what?  Insufficient grief?  Well let's put it differently:  Insufficient allegiance to the narrative.  Sound familiar?  Is their artificial grief any more absurd than calling someone Xe?  So they all participate in the lie as an exercise in power dynamics.

Surely this is what we are seeing on college campuses today:  A demonstrable allegiance to a narrative.  Stop and let that sink in.  When did the goal of liberal arts education morph from developing a faculty for critical thought to fostering an allegiance to a narrative?  If you think this comparison is hyperbole, just listen to Yeonmi Park talk about North Korea and Columbia University.

Which brings me to my second point:  To what end?  Well the narcissists and the cowards are just useful idiots with a richly concocted fantasy that the tyrants can exploit.  I personally believe that it could be any ridiculous fantasy, it's just that gender identity theory is the one at hand.  I mean it is so preposterous that if they can feed it to the masses, by whatever means necessary, then they can tell the masses anything they want.  Peak Covid hysteria has presented the tyrants with a similar opportunity.  And one cannot help but notice the tyrannical overlap.

There's also critical theory and intersectionality and 1619 and any number of other exploitable theories.  But come on, the absurdity of gender identity theory with its attendant public declaration of pronouns.  And the demand to prostrate oneself to use the correct pronouns of the petty narcissists?  For the tyrants, it's just too good to pass up.  Of course it is.

If you believe that the man over there is a Xe, or better yet, a she, or at least pretend to believe, odds are, you'll believe anything that those in power tell you to believe.  And if you believe them, you will do what they say – Regardless of which end of the gun you are on.

Those who can make you believe in absurdities can make you commit atrocities.

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A New Ten Commandments

How might a Decalogue look if it was written for the 21st century?

Christopher Hitchens:

I never quite trust myself beginning a sentence by saying thou shalt not, but let’s see if we can adapt this famous question.

1. Do not condemn people on the basis of their ethnicity or their color.
   
   
2. Do not even think about using people as private property.
   
   
3. Despise those who use violence or the threat of it in sexual relationships.
   
   
4. Hide you face and weep if you dare to harm a child.
   
   
5. Do not condemn people for their inborn nature.
   
   
6. Be aware that you too are an animal and dependent on the web of nature.  Try and think and act accordingly.
   
   
7. Do not imagine that you can escape judgment if you rob people with a false prospectus rather than with a knife.
   
   
8. Turn off that fucking cell phone.  You can have no idea how unimportant your call is to us.
   
   
9. Denounce all jihadists and crusaders for what they are:  Psychopathic criminals with ugly delusions and terrible sexual repressions.
   
   
10. Be willing to renounce any god or any faith if any holy commandments should contradict any of the above.

While I would never presume to improve on Hitchens' list, I did wonder what my own list might look like:

1. Treat others the way you want to be treated.
   
   
2. Live and let live (unless someone is causing harm to someone else).
   
   
3. Learn to think for yourself.
   
   
4. Maintain intellectual curiosity in all things.
   
   
5. Cause no harm to children.
   
   
6. Do not make government your god.
   
   
7. Be fully engaged with the person or persons in front of you.
   
   
8. Respect nature and the environment, but balance the needs of the environment with the needs of humanity.
   
   
9. Understand that objective truth exists; our job is to find it or at least try to find it.
   
   
10. Be willing to renounce any god or any faith if any holy commandments should contradict any of the above.

I included Hitchens' Numbers Four and Ten in full, but I think I have included most of his points in one way or another.

Numbers One and Two.  Regarding Hitchens' Numbers One, Two, Three, Five, Seven, and Nine, of course I agree with all of these.  But I'm happy to let my Numbers One and Two cover these issues, as they do for so many other sins (murder, rape, theft, fraud, discrimination, false witness, failure to yield, etc.)

Number Two.  Let's stay with my Number Two.  Surely this applies to all manner of issues.  Inborn nature (to use Hitchens' terminology), lifestyle choices, whatever.  But religious people need to pay it particular attention.  Do not attempt to shun or subjugate (or worse) people of differing faith systems.  Likewise do not attempt to shun or subjugate (or worse) people who wish to leave your faith.  Simply put, if you cannot live and let live, you are an evil being, deserving of the worst outcome of your own religious beliefs.  And if your faith instructs you to NOT live and let live, see Number Ten.

Number Three.  Please heed my Number Three.  This is a commandment.

Number Four.  This is true for everything.  But it is especially true for those beliefs we know to be true without evidence, i.e. articles of faith.  I often find the faithful's lack of curiosity unforgivable and dangerous.

Number Five.  As I mentioned, I included Hitchen's Number Four in full, as my Number Five.  It is interesting to note that this was not a prohibition in the original Ten Commandments.  Surely, God did not think it was necessary to include it.  But I guess we've learned a lot since then.  Today I think all of us find it absolutely necessary to include it.

Number Six.  Many who have lost faith in the divine replace it with faith in government.  Their willingness to believe in the efficacy of government, without evidence and often in the face of evidence to the contrary, is indeed an article of faith.  Government is made of men, and almost always, far from the best men.  It is certainly not worthy of anything near religious faith.  In fact, it's tempting to add:  Be skeptical of all matters of government involvement.

Number Seven.  Hitchens mentions cell phones.  I would simply extend that to the internet, social media, video games, television, etc.  But in truth, this commandment extends beyond technology to any distraction.  Pay attention to others.

Number Eight.  Speaks for itself.

Number Nine.  Today the idea of objective truth is under attack.  Therefore, sadly, it merits its own commandment.

Number Ten.  Finally, it is worth noting that so many religious people believe that they get their morality exclusively from their religion.  But their religions can pronounce horribly unjust penalties for arbitrary sins.  In any case, here I hope you can find ten rules of morality which do not require religion in any way.  I am not telling you to not be religious, or that religion is bad.  See my Number Two.  But do not believe that only religion, certainly not only your own religion, can produce moral people.

It's funny how ten is just the right number.  I could do with no less; I can think of no more.

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Tales From Baobaoan

Part Two

In the aftermath of Typhoon Odette, we were without power for two weeks, including Christmas.  Here in Baobaoan, that was really the worst effect of the cyclone.  Since this immediate area is fed by natural springs, lack of water was never an issue for us.  Other areas of the Philippines were not so lucky.  A category five hurricane does not hit an island nation without areas of complete devastation.

And no electricity is really a non-event for most Filipinos.  Most people do not use air conditioning.  They are also used to small refrigerators without much capacity.  But, at a mere eight degrees north of the equator, I found both of these issues rather disagreeable.

To be fair, temperature and humidity-wise, it did get somewhat comfortable between three and six am.  And we simply went to the market almost daily.  So all-in-all, it was unpleasant, but not terrible.

One mistake we made was that we failed to elevate our water pump.  Well, we did elevate it, but just not enough.  And the thing was flooded.  This is a big deal because there is no water tower here in Baobaoan.  So you need a pump to move water into and through the house.  I thought we needed to replace it, but a few days after the electric company restored the power, Mira's nephew, Kim, Neng's oldest son, got the thing working again.  But first, we made a new, higher platform for the pump.  I'm sure it will not flood that much again, but we are now prepared for the worst.

Third World Country, New World Malls

There are two open markets within five miles of here.  And in Butuan City, there are several large markets, for meat and vegetables & fruit.  We shop at all of these.

But to be honest, we buy most of our groceries at the supermarket.  Yep, just like Kroger.  Okay, they do not have a deli, but otherwise, you'd think you were in a Kroger.  Here in Butuan, we have three to choose from.

And you know where to find the supermarkets?  At the malls of course.  Three supermarkets; three malls.  Here in the Philippines, the malls are not anchored by Macy's, but rather by the supermarkets.

And when you walk inside one of these malls, you leave the third world behind.  Inside, you might well be in Pasadena.  These things are as American as you can get.  And they are packed.  There's a Levis store on the first floor and an Ace Hardware on the second.  And just like in America, Filipinos go not only to shop, but also for entertainment and restaurants.  Movies?  Theater on the third floor.  Hotel?  Attached.  McDonald's?  Right where it is in America – Out front in an outparcel.

It's fair to label the Philippines a third world country.  But it is more accurate to call it a developing nation.  A quickly developing nation.  Want evidence of the emerging Philippine middle class?  Just head to the malls.

Find Part One of Tales From Baobaoan here.

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Tales From Baobaoan

Part One

We arrived in Baobaoan (pronounced:  Bab-ō-wän) on Saturday, July 24, 2021.  This was after spending eleven days in quarantine in Manila.  And we were required to spend six additional days in home quarantine before our local Covid test results proved negative.  Believe me, eleven days locked in a third class hotel room is just one step above jail.

Welcome to the Philippines.

To be fair, one can quarantine at the Hilton.  And there is even a Peninsula.  We just did not have the budget for that.

Baobaoan is my wife, Mira's, hometown.  It is a small village (barangay) of, I'd guess, around 1,500 people, northeast of Butuan City.  Surrounded by rice paddies, it is a provincial farming community, three kilometers off the main highway.

Mira's family had fixed up a small house right next door to one of her five sisters.  Fresh paint, new water pump, and most importantly, a new air conditioner.  It was pretty amazing:  We settled in with no issues.  Though with home quarantine and all, Mira's sister pretty much had to feed us for a week.

Robert & Neng

She still feeds us regularly.  Her name is Maria Theresa Seno Avilla.  Sobriquet:  NeNeng, but most often just Neng.  She and her family run the barangay's only carinderia, a small food stall.  It is really the only place to get prepared food in the whole village.  Needless to say, it is a busy place.

Her husband Robert does something with the farmers – He's a bit like an agricultural extension agent.  He also serves on the barangay council.  Given their roles in the village, Robert & Neng are pillars of the community, and as such, have really helped us settle into life here.

Junjun

Angelo Auman Seno, Jr. is one of Mira's four brothers.  He and his wife, Mae, and their four children split their time between Manila where she works, and Baobaoan, and nearby Magallanes where her family is from.  Junjun is really the entrepreneur of the family with a duck egg business, a coconut oil processing business, and a new recycling venture.  Duck eggs, or balut, are a popular Philippine delicacy.

Junjun's day job is working as assistant to Congressman Lawrence Fortun, who represents the First District of Agusan del Norte, and is currently running for vice mayor of Butuan City.

Wendy

Mira has another sister, Wendy.  She and her husband own one of the local rice farms, and she runs a small sari-sari store in front of our house.  The literal translation of sari-sari is assorted, sundry, or diverse.  But the best way I can describe a sari-sari store is as a Philippine convenience store.  They sell snacks and soft drinks, beer, and staples like flour and sugar.  Wendy is there everyday from 5:30 am till well after dark.  The problem is that every third house seems to have a sari-sari store up front.  I'm not sure how they all stay in business.  Wendy's store benefits by being on the main street and right next to Neng's carinderia.

In a community with only a few automobiles, and the nearest market about five miles away, the sari-sari stores provide a vital service.

Andrew

Andrew is Mira's nephew, the son of her eldest sister, Angelita.  He's young (21) and smart and ambitious, and always ready to take a walk with me.  This gives him an opportunity to practice his English.

Now what you need to understand is that the Philippine people are among the least judgmental that I have ever met.  But there is one area where Filipinos do tend to judge each other harshly:  Command of the English language.  So Andrew wants to practice his English, not only to help him in the job market, but also so that other Filipinos will respect his language skills.  It's a real thing here.

This is such an issue in the Philippines that I have found that people with moderate to even very good fluency will not attempt to speak English for fear that others will look down on them.  As an American this is very frustrating because almost everyone here can communicate in English – They are just too embarrassed to do so.  They never seem to understand that their English is always better than my non-existent Bisayan, and as a typical monolingual American, I can only judge them positively.

Hanna

Hanna is Wendy's oldest daughter and has just received a degree in math education from Caraga State University.  CSU is about five miles south of here and has a well-regarded College of Education.  She'll probably get a position teaching high school math.  The problem is she looks like a high schooler, herself.  But she's smart, tech-savvy, and she and her contemporaries represent the future of the Philippines.  She'll go far.

JR

JR is a family friend.  He works for the local egg cooperative surveying chickens.  Now, I have no idea what surveying chickens entails, but I presume that it has something to do with estimating egg supply.  He is married to a quiet, reserved young woman, who also happens to be one of the most beautiful women in Baobaoan.  They have a toddler named Harrison – Harrison, after Harrison Ford, JR's favorite actor.  Unlike many folks, JR is always happy to talk with me in English, and here, let me thank him for it.

Odette

On Thursday, December 16th, Typhoon Odette slammed into the Philippines.  JR evacuated his young family to the next barangay about three kilometers away, on the main highway.  They spent the night in the barangay hall.  This was extremely smart, because the rest of us endured a night of flooding not seen in this area in more than a generation.  In fact, Odette hit the Philippines as a Category Five hurricane.

Now, living all my life in eastern North Carolina, I've endured my share of hurricanes.  But I have never personally dealt with flooding.  We were told to expect, and prepared for, six to eight inches of water.  We got 18 to 24 inches.  That's in our house.  Some had a bit less, some had quite a bit more.  We had elevated our refrigerator about eight inches when we bought it.  When the water came, we realized that was not enough.  So we rounded up some help and raised it to about twelve inches.  A few short hours later, we rounded up yet more help and put the thing on the kitchen table, which luckily is sturdy enough to hold it.

Then we evacuated ourselves next door, to Neng and Robert's one second floor room, their oldest son, Kim's bedroom, where we spent the night.

Now about 6:30 that evening, when the water was really at its peak, Neng appears with a wash basin as an umbrella, and announces that she is going to cook dinner.  With her kitchen flooded the same as ours, she went around the corner to her parents, my in-laws.  You see, they had only about fifteen inches of water in their kitchen.  I have no idea how she did it, but about an hour later, we were eating hot rice and fresh, crispy spring rolls (lumpia).  And she fed the whole family – easily more than twenty people.  It was worth traveling halfway around the world just to meet this resourceful woman of quiet competence and genuine fortitude.

And that seems like the perfect place to end this first installment.  I hope to bring you more tales from Baobaoan soon.

At one time, the United States was teeming with grit.  That is, people with grit.  Yet, today's average college graduate looks down on people with dirty fingernails.  Yeah, they don't even know what the word means.  You'll not find it in Cambridge or Stanford or Chapel Hill.  They don't know what the word means, and they surely do not aspire to it.

I am sure that there are any number of places in the world today where you can find true grit.  But if you are looking, you could do a lot worse than the Philippines.

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Tuesday was a Victory?

The conservative pundits have spoken:  Tuesday was a huge victory for Republican candidates and conservative ideas.  And if we define victory by winning, I guess that is true.

But I do not.

Let's start with the concept of winning itself.  Winning is fifty percent plus one vote.  That means you win.  But if you win with, say, fifty-one percent of the vote, it simply means that you lost with half of the voters.  I no longer blame the candidates for this failure – I'll come back to this below.  But come on, it's a pretty thin victory to start with.  Stop pretending this was some "big win."

Okay, you won.  But could we just for a moment look at what you lost.  Let's take the Virginia governor's race.  Due to the sheer insanity and intransigence of local school boards, and the recent (independent) press surrounding this, the race was largely about education.

I am not here to break it down for the reader; plenty of places for that.  But before you claim victory, surely we must acknowledge that half the state voted for the status quo.  Half.  And what they really want is more.  They voted for masking and lockdowns and vaccine mandates and CRT.  And for boys in skirts raping girls in girls' bathrooms.  And for the inevitable government coverup.  And for secret Gender Support Plans.  That is, secret from parents.  And, and, and...in general, for a completely out-of-control and increasingly authoritarian government.

Is it really a victory if half our electorate actively support this?

In Minneapolis, forty-four percent voted to shut down the police department.  That is forty-four percent of actual voters.  If we were to add in the citizens who could not be bothered to vote, and certainly those ineligible to vote, I think we can be sure that the popularity of closing the police department is over fifty percent.

So let me ask you:  Do you want to live in a neighborhood where half your neighbors don't support the idea of a police force?

Victory huh?

Look, I don't blame Terry McAuliffe for being Terry McAuliffe, any more than I blame Joe Biden for being Joe Biden.  No matter what you think of these guys, they are who they are.  And in the internet age, it's pretty easy for anyone to see who they are.  It is not McAuliffe's fault.  No, if you vote for McAuliffe, it's your own fault.

The fault lies with the voters.  Our neighbors.  Our friends and colleagues.  Our family members.  Certainly our friends and family who work for some level of government.

And our teachers.  I would be willing to bet that the largest single block of voters this week in Virginia were teachers.

These are the people at fault.

Teachers are doubly at fault because, for more than a generation now, they have failed their students.  I would argue largely on purpose.  If you want an electorate to support government overreach, you have to patiently dumb down the citizenry over several generations.  This is not a conspiracy; a conspiracy is simply not required.  This is rather what all true leftists want.  And who has been training our teachers for generations now?

This has become so ingrained that current teachers do not even realize what they are doing.  Why?  Because this started before they were even in school themselves.  Our teachers have no idea how completely stupid, er...ill-educated, they are.  They're teachers after all.  Yet, they cannot teach kids to think if they themselves never learned to think.  And you cannot teach what you do not know.  Yet, they are so completely full of themselves.  If you doubt me on this, I urge you to have a chat with one.

So you won on Tuesday.  Congratulations.

Meanwhile, the country is lost...

If you expect to maintain a democracy, you must first maintain a certain education level of your citizenry.  Democracies do not work with the completely ignorant.  If your average citizen does not understand the difference between a man and a woman, how long before the democracy collapses?

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The End of "Gradually"

The Sun Also Sets

Today, I saw a comment from Glenn Reynolds that he posted on his blog:  Nothing that’s happened with this pandemic has made me want the government to play a bigger role in health care.

Amen.  But I thought to myself:  Nothing that government does makes me want the government to play a bigger role in anything.

At one point, I would have questioned this:  But what about roads and bridges and airports and the military, etc?  But those days are gone now.  What with high-speed rail to nowhere, and a swampy and completely politicized military?  Today, government has lost the ability to even address basic and practical needs.

Ronald Reagan said that:  Government is not the solution to the problem; government is the problem.  Good sound bite.  But then he made a deal with Tip O'Neill to drastically lower tax rates.  Great, but what did O'Neill get in return?  Well, the two of them proceeded to grow government by some seventy percent while Reagan was in office.  Seventy percent.

Personally, I think O'Neill got the better end of the deal.  Any fool can look at the Laffer Curve and see what happens to government revenue when you lower the tax rate.  Politically he could never admit it, but O'Neill was no fool.  And so he made the deal with Reagan knowing that government revenue was about to explode.

Even if you want to make the argument that O'Neill was too lefty to appreciate or even acknowledge the Laffer Curve, he and his constituencies were definitely the beneficiaries of it.

And so, even during the "most conservative" administration of our lifetime, we got vastly more government.  But what did we taxpayers, er...citizens get?

So again, let's ask:  Is there anything that government does that we want more of?

And evidently, for more than half of us, the answer is yes.

Let's start with the biggest part of this constituency:  Government employees.  If you work for government, you want more government.  It is job security and a bigger fiefdom for you.  The same it true for health care workers and teachers and academics.  What's that you say?  Your university (or hospital or school) is private?  Well, where is the money coming from?

Another large yes constituency is big business.  At one time a fairly conservative lot, today big business is in bed with big government.  Hey, a large government with lots of regulations keeps the upstarts at bay and the profits flowing.  The reason big business is in bed with big government is because big government is good for big business.  So today, we have both the union hall and the boardroom voting for more government.

We can slice the American voting public in any number of different ways:  The black vote, the Jewish vote, feminists, Hollywood, lawyers, etc.  But most of these segments also want more government.

In fact, aside from the ever-shrinking Christian fundamentalist vote, I can only think of one group of people who do not want more government.  And no, it is not white males, many of whom are in the above groups anyway.  No, the one group that I can see that wants less government is small business and entrepreneurs.  Please note how this group crosses all racial and orientation lines – All of them.

And here I don't mean well-funded Silicon Valley types who left research fellowships at Stanford to start yet another California Goggle-wannabe.  All those people want more government.

No, I mean bootstrap entrepreneurs, in Atlanta and Cleveland.  And I mean small and family businesses across the country.

I could write a whole post on them.  But here's the point of this post:  There are just not enough of them.  We've lost.  And because we've lost, the yes to more government crowd has won.

And so that is what we will get.  More government.  Note this applies to whichever party is in power.  If Reagan did not stop it, did you really think that the Bushes would?  Or Trump?  The next Republican administration?  Don't count on it.

And more government means more incompetence and more incoherence and the end results of these vacuous attributes.  Incompetence reigns supreme.  Reynolds is absolutely correct.  Just look at the complete incompetence our wannabe tyrants have brought to the pandemic response.  Expect more of this.

In The Sun Also Rises, there is a famous line, Hemingway's response to the question:  How did you go bankrupt?  Hemingway's answer:  Gradually, then suddenly.

Perfect answer.  But surely this applies to countries as well – Just think about how the Soviet empire declined slowly for decades and then fell quickly.  So here is my question for you:  Where are we in this long, sad process?  Personally, I think we are at the very end of gradually.

Suddenly starts any day now.

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A Certain Type of Power

Let's talk about power for a few minutes.  Now of course there are all kinds of power.  But here, I want to focus on a specific kind.  Let's use an example.

I tell a lie.  I know it is a lie.  But perhaps it furthers my agenda.  Or maybe my agenda is power itself.  Either way, it is a lie and I know it.

You hear my lie, and you too know it is a lie.  Perhaps it is a subtle lie, but you see through it.  Or maybe the lie is quite ridiculous and obvious.

But in any case, we both know it is a lie.  Yet there is nothing you can do about it.  If you try to refute it, you will be gagged.

Note, this gagging need not be physical – I no longer have to disappear you in the middle of the night.  In fact, with a compliant media and big tech, I may not have to do anything at all.  Pinochet would have loved the police state quality of social media.

Now there is, I suppose, some power here.  I have lied and gotten away with it, and there is nothing you can do about it.  That's power, right?

But it is not enough.

No, what I really want is for you to not only hear the lie, but be compelled to repeat it yourself.  Not because you have come to believe it.  But rather as a demonstration of my complete and sovereign power over you.

So like it or not, you parrot my lie.

The Soviets were good at these power games.  But the true masters have proven to be the North Koreans.  Just look at how ordinary people publicly wept (often seemingly uncontrollably) at the death of their dear leader.  He did so much for us; I am just devastated by our loss.  It is a lie and everyone, in and out of the country, knows it is a lie.  But it is a lie everyone dutifully repeats.

Well maybe not everyone knows it's a lie.  Because after a while, some people, a good number of people, lose the ability to discern what's true from what is not true.  That is to say, they lose the ability to think for themselves.  Thinking requires effort and practice, a churning of the little gray cells, and many people would rather not put forth the effort.  Thinking is hard.  I find that even otherwise very hardworking people are susceptible to intellectual laziness.  This is why listening to loud music and watching sports are so popular; there's no thinking involved.  It also explains today's prominence of a partisan news media – Don't tax yourself, CNN will tell you what to think.

So in America, the lie might originate with the government.  Or just as likely, and just as troubling, it might originate with some other supposedly elite source.  The media or academia.  But it makes no difference because they all serve the same god.  And these three groups, government, media, and the academy, along with their courtiers in big tech, often serve their god by independently confirming what the others say.  Or censoring or disparaging any differing view.

It matters not how it is done.  The real problem is so many people are quite receptive to being told what to think.  And fully prepared to repeat it as a signal of their virtue, but also as a signal of their allegiance.  They may have never thought about it, but what difference does that make?  Besides, they confuse indoctrination with independent thought.  Actually, they lose the ability to distinguish between the two.  Indoctrination is their thought process.  So you see, they have thought about it.  And through their thought process, they have discovered the truth.  And obviously, you are intellectually inferior because you have not recognized the truth.  Clearly, you are not a thinker.  This is why, so often, they ooze condescension.  The irony here is completely lost on them.

How should we describe the power wielded over these people?  Power over the unthinking.  It is truly god-like.  The adherents accept indoctrination as articles of faith.  Their thinking is a form of religious fervor and submission.  They prostrate themselves to their gods.  The gods of power.

Let's look at some uniquely American examples:

We call that one individual they or even something completely unrecognizable to the English language.

We pretend that men can be women and women can be men.

Even professors of medicine are parroting:  Men can get pregnant.

We allow men in women's dressing rooms; we allow men to compete in women's sports; where we also allow men to beat up women.  Believe you me, Celine Provost knows all about this type of power.

Here's a question:  Why don't we see women, so-called trans-men, insisting on competing in men's sports?  It's just part of the lie we all tell.

We talk about inequality of outcomes rather than equality of opportunity and content of character.

We parrot:  Insistence on punctuality and proper grammar and test scores are evidence of oppression. 

We tell ourselves that there is nothing particularly special about Western Civilization.  And other cultures are equal or even superior to it. 

We replace the Western canon and classical music with inferior alternatives.  We dispense with blind auditions in favor of so-called diversity.  We tell ourselves that excellence will not suffer.

The whole discussion around voter ID is a lie, and everyone knows it.  Well everyone except for those who do not or cannot or can no longer think for themselves.

We wear masks even though we know the absurdity of it.

And the worst of us force very young children to wear masks.  I cannot decide if these people are power-hungry or obsequious to power.  Either way, their intentions are NOT good.

We get our vaccine and dutifully present our vaccination card to the restaurant hostess.  We publicly condemn those who do not.  We are not ashamed of this; it is a religious truth, an article of faith.

Oh, and Hunter Biden's laptop and the included emails?  Clearly a Russian disinformation campaign.

The North Koreans and the Chinese must look on in amazement.

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Invitation to Anger

A friend sends me a Horace Walpole quote:  No country was ever saved by good men because good men will not go to the length that may be necessary.

I like that, but my first thought was of Winston Churchill, who I regard as the savior of the Twentieth Century and for all his faults, a good man.  So, I proposed instead:  The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.  And I added:  We have to say Enough!

His response:  I’m not sure there are enough of us left to say enough.  I can vote, assuming it counts.  I can speak up, but will be cancelled.  I’m not sure how to stand up effectively.  I know there are a lot who would like to, but how do we do that within the system.  How do we do that and remain ‘good men’?

I was considering our exchange when I came across this piece from Abigail Shrier:

Last week, I spoke with [a] mother who discovered her 12-year-old daughter’s middle school had changed the girl’s name and gender identity at school.  The Gender Support Plan the district followed is an increasingly standard document which informs teachers of a child’s new chosen name and gender identity (trans, agender, non-binary, etc.) for all internal communications with the child.  The school also provided the girl a year’s worth of counseling in support of her new identity, which in her case was no gender.  Even the P.E. teachers were in on it.  Left in the dark were her parents.

This duplicity is part of the plan:  All documents sent home to mom and dad scrupulously maintained the daughter’s birth name and sex.  But Mom noticed her daughter seemed to be suffering.  Although far from alone in declaring a new identity – many girls in the school had adopted new names and gender pronouns – this girl’s grades fell apart.  She became taciturn and moody.

When the mother failed to uncover the source of the girl’s distress, she met with teachers, hoping for insight.  Instead, she slammed into a Wall of Silence:  No teacher was evidently willing to let a worried mom know what the hell was going on.  (Finally, one did.)

Now I don't know about you, but this made me angry.  The fact that they could and do keep this secret from the parents represents a callous disregard for parents and a level of unaccountability rarely found in our society.  Teachers – They don't work for you and they couldn't care less what you think.  And it's not as if they are truly putting the child's welfare first.  No, their priority is their own misguided sense of woke virtue signaling.  Above ALL else, they want to feel good about themselves.

This need alone makes them unfit for the classroom.  Gender Support Plan?  These kids are often not even reading at grade level.  Forget about math.  As a class, teachers are the absolute worst people in our society.

Must we become Walpole's implied "necessary bad men" to fix this?  Obviously, it is not enough to shout Enough!  Today this is an unfortunate reality.  No, we must get angry.

This morning, I read about a school board having citizens removed from their meeting if a citizen had the audacity to criticize them.  I thought, well if five hundred angry citizens showed up, they could not remove all of us.

Shouting Enough! is not enough.  We have to get angry:

I don't care what you call yourself, you narcissistic nitwit, but I'll address you as either he or she, and it is my choice which.  I do not care what you think.

And if you have a penis, you'll not disrobe with our daughters.  We'll arrest you for indecent exposure and place you on the sex offender registry. 

Show me a pregnant man, and I'll show you a person with an XX twenty-third chromosome.

In women's MMA, if you have an XY twenty-third chromosome, you are not a champion, you are a shameful woman-beater.  Go brag about it to your grandmother.  I dare you.

Sure, we can explore inequality of outcomes, but we will not start with the premise that all white people are racists.  We will not stand for that.  If we must discuss it, let's start with cultural factors.

If you bring your woke nonsense into my company workspace, I will fire you.

We don't want the unknown and unknowable flooding across our southern border and bused all around the country.  A nation without borders is simply not a nation.

If you need an ID to buy cigarettes and alcohol, there is nothing wrong (or limiting) about needing an ID to vote.  And honestly, if you are too stupid to secure an ID, you probably should not be drinking anyway.  Or voting.

If you are a convicted felon or a non-citizen, you do not vote.  There is no constitutional right to vote anyway.  And if it were up to me, we'd raise the voting age to 25.

We don't want our cities torched and we do want our police to maintain order.  If necessary, revoke city charters and compel state takeovers.  Send in the national guard, arrest the rioters; audit city hall, jail the grifters.

If the mayor of Chicago can move though the city with half a dozen firearms, I can move around with just one.  Disarming a law-abiding citizen should be a federal crime.

We will not tolerate antisemitism.  We'll deal with you as we once dealt with the fascist national socialists that you so obviously admire.

If your vaccine works, you need not worry about others.  If it does not work, there's no point in forcing it upon others.  You odious virtue signaling petty tyrant. 

Finally, it's time to put cameras and microphones in all K-12 classrooms.  It would be easy enough to limit access to current parents.  Montessori schools have been allowing parent classroom viewing (without informing the teachers) for years now.  Let's remember, public school teachers are public servants, not the minor deities they believe themselves to be.

Now you disgusting dishonest power-hungry maniacs, just leave me alone before I really get angry.

The problem of course is that half the country supports this nonsense, directly or indirectly.  We can get angry and confront them.  With dialogue, which they completely ignore and refuse and censor, or with violence, which if we are not careful is where this is headed.

Or, as I have argued before, we can separate ourselves from them.  If they want to live this way, I suggest we let them.  But let's not be a part of it.  If you are in California or New York or Chicago or Minneapolis, get out.  Leave them to the dystopia that they so strongly desire.  Withdraw your support and your tax money and even your mere presence.

Just yesterday, the people of California overwhelmingly suggested that they like the way things are there.  You think that will change anytime soon?  No, California voters want it this way.  Evidently, they prefer to step over used syringes to get to the ballot box.  Let's leave them to it.  There's no other practical option anyway.

So get angry.  And use your anger – To flee.

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On Being An American Expat in 2021

Should I still consider myself an American?

I have given up on our government.  In fact, I have no faith in any level of American government – Populated as it is with lefty politicians and a complete left-wing bureaucracy.

I have given up on our elites – Corporate, academic, journalists and other media players, military brass, the legal system, etc.  This is the outcome of fifty years of subpar and subversive education.

I have given up on half our fellow citizens (voters).  Ultimately, these are the people responsible for our mess.  I can no longer believe in respectful disagreement.  In the past, I believed that we all wanted the same things, but disagreed on how to get there.  Now, I no longer believe we want the same things.

And all three of the above groups allow no room for debate anyway.  Why attempt to engage with anyone who does not wish to engage with you.  And in fact, wishes you dead.  Overstatement?  Okay fine...silenced.

Are there aspects of being American that I still value?  Sure, the place.  That is the geography and landscape.  The founding ideas and our founding documents.  The idea of the melting pot.  The lost ideals of individualism and self-reliance.  But these are all passé according to the tenets of the current bien-pensants.

I just cannot be part of it anymore.  For me, the stench of the Left's value system has become intolerable.  Yet, their values have become pervasive.  The stench permeates every nook and cranny of our society.  For me, their heavy-handed response to Covid was the last straw.

So I had to leave.  My wife and I have moved to her country, the Philippines.  I would never say that the Philippines is a better place to live than the US.  It has its own set of problems.  But unlike the US, they are not my problems.  I do not feel compelled to address them.

I do not know how long I will be away from the United States.  Perhaps indefinitely.  But I have given some thought to what it would take for me to return.  One or more red state governors will have to say no.  No, my state is not going to do that.  And if you cut off funds, we will cut off federal tax revenue.  And if you want to enforce it, we will arrest your agents for violation of state law.  And we will not allow our national guard to be nationalized.

What everyone seems to forget these days is that as large as the US federal government is, it largely depends on states to enforce its nonsense.  Stop!  If actually pressed, I think you'd be surprised at how impotent the federal government is, at least domestically.

And red state governors would also have to root out the lefty enablers within their own governments – Because even those governments are full of them.  Start with the universities.  If necessary, cut their funding entirely.  Ask yourselves:  What purpose do they serve?  Move on to K-12 education; fund students not teachers.

I feel sure that it is going to take this level of resistance, perhaps even more, for the US to begin to again feel like the US.  To feel more like the US than Europe or even China.  It may take war.  So be it.  Texas cattle ranchers versus New York and California educrats unsure of proper pronoun usage?  Versus the whole Chicago and Albany grifter establishment.

And if I am wrong?  Either about what is required or the will to get it done?  Well, the American experiment is over.  And the Philippines is a pleasant enough place to live.

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