*A message from your friendly management: If you sent me blog posts that haven’t appeared yet, I’m not ignoring you. My hotmail seems to have lost its marbles, or no longer know how to do searches or something. PLEASE send again.
On the post, another note: Apparently my old friend, Bill Reader, felt we need a new battle flag. We could do worse – SAH*
Hivemind – by Bill Reader
It’s been a very interesting couple of weeks, and I daresay the interestingness is not over. With the Communist History Analogue Zone managing to recapitulate decades of disintegration in a matter of days, I wake up every morning wondering what new depth of irony they’ll manage to descend to. Balkanizing Lies Matter, meanwhile, has forged an alliance with Pro-fa, and together they are merrily wrecking black owned businesses, making life difficult for the people who make the country work, and of late, destroying monuments.
History is where all communist failures live, so the only good history is dead history, I suppose.
Amidst all this I happened to see this image on Ace.
Now, Ace found it somewhat more disturbing than I did. It’ll take more than 30 minutes in Photoshop and a silkscreen job—done in all probability on someone else’s budget— to actually disturb me.
As far as I’m concerned, the fist in particular is such a ubiquitously recognizable Communist symbol around the world that the bigger Pro-fa prints it on bright red banners, the better. The remaining six people in the United States who haven’t yet been appraised of the current state of the world need to see that this symbol – which is associated with way, way more deaths than even other major-leaguers like the swastika— is now front and center of an American political party, and act accordingly. We’re on notice: the soviet troops didn’t land on the lawn, they came up from the basement. Our primary good fortune is the recruiting effort wasn’t able to bring in almost anyone even half-competent, and the exceptions are mostly busy dominating the rules in their own camp—See Raz de CHAZ.
Even so, it is always wise to be thoughtful about symbols. Symbols have a great deal of power, and can serve as guideposts that bring us back to common principles when things get messy. A good symbol is a shorthand for a set of ideas, and the set of ideas is a shorthand for a worldview, and the worldview is a lodestar for approaching life.
Just for example, let’s look back at that fist. That communist fist is seen in communist revolutions in multiple countries where the revolution itself nominally has some other symbol. And it rises to the top, time and time again, because all the stars and sickles are transparently meaningless. They want to be aspirational symbols, but nobody can articulate what they aspire to, except, vaguely, a working version of communism. On that front, you may as well aspire to make dehydrated water. Now the fist, that’s a good symbol for communism—it explains both its predilections and its fate.
One look at the communist-fist tells you you’ve got a movement that’s interested in being a danger to everyone around it right now, yet has no real future. When your motivating principle is the eternal, unbounded, pointless fight— when the “struggle” is so front-and-center in your mind that it supersedes whatever ideal it was in the service of — then the only possible destination is “Revolution from above”, endless purges and purity tests and infighting. And lo, does it not deliver? You asked for the fight, comrade, and the fight you shall get—first from the people trying to save you from your own stupid wishes, then from the people who used you as a means to grant them.
The rattlesnake, on the other hand, elegantly encapsulates the American temperament. Americans are slow to anger. We give plenty of warning. But heaven help you when you push us one step too far, because just about nothing else can. I’m sure Pro-fa thinks its variant is rather clever—they’re the sort to be easily self-impressed— but I think they’ve accidentally said a bit more than they meant.
On my first sight of the banner, in fact, I thought for a moment that it was from a counter-protest. Why? Well, the snake is wrapped around the fist. Sure, on closer inspection, the fist has the snake by the head, but isn’t that itself rather ironically reflective of American society today? Here is this cabal of far Left lunatics, holding onto the top of all American institutions, and all the while, the rest of America is wrapping around them from all sides, encircling and surrounding them. Trump didn’t have almost a million people clamoring to go to a rally in Tulsa because of an abiding desire in the populace for fresh country air. We may be in your grip, Pro-fa, but we’re a long, long way from dead. And we’ve got you surrounded, on every side, however much you try to strangle us out of existence. It’s true, rattlers aren’t constrictor snakes— but then again, you never know what new tricks we might learn in a corner, tovarish.
Even so, I think it’s worth considering a little update, an adjunct symbol, if you will, a supplemental representation of the American psyche. Conservatives are used to being reviled, mocked, demonized and stigmatized by the same “inclusive” individuals who insist that no such thing ought to happen to anyone. Ironically, though, we’re also what keeps things running. Years of being underdogs in the culture war, a war the left has waged against the culture, mind you, that the country itself is founded on, can change you. We’re no less embodied by the rattlesnake than we were—but maybe we’re something else, too.
Consider an animal that is omnipresent. It is virtually everywhere that people are. Its work is vital, it has helped make society what it is since society was a concept, and it works constantly. It saves for the future. It is fundamental in producing things used by everybody, soy-boy and steak-eater alike. Yet despite its absolutely indispensable work it is widely disliked. People may feel menaced, indeed, by even the sight of one. Thus, for safety, these animals cluster together in large numbers, make common cause against an unfeeling world. And you can easily interrupt its work or kill it if you decide to, but you’ll regret it. It won’t go down without a fight, and it may even kill you. It is small, it is humble, but you mess with it at your peril.
It is, in short, well-organized, conscientious, hard-working, unfairly stigmatized, non-aggressive but fully committed to effective self-defense without reference to the status or power of the aggressor, and its work is crucial to the survival of even those that attack it. Oh, and despite predictions that it would die off entirely in recent years, it seems to have found a way to survive.
It is, of course, a bee. Or a conservative, of course.
And the Left would do well to take note—you seem to think if you drown out the buzzing, you aren’t going to get stung. But the buzzing is a warning. It’s the rattle in the tail of the snake. It’s the alarm you stubbornly insist that, if silenced, will make the danger it is alerting you to vanish. It is asking nicely, and if you don’t believe that, just you wait. If you really want not to get stung, you’re free to back away. That’s the play you ought to make. You’ve got a lot of pride on the line, but we’ve seen what you did to Minneapolis, and your pride doesn’t mean much to us, given that we can see where it leads you. We don’t give a damn who you are, and nor do our stingers. But if you’re going to insist on sticking your hand into our home, taking the spoils of our work, breaking what we’ve worked so hard to build, well–
You might not be too sharp—but you’ll find that we are.
(H/T to a friend who asks to remain anonymous for the artwork above)