Of all the things the last 12 months have robbed me of, the illusion that I’m a good person might be the one I cherished best.
Oh, I’m not a bad person. But it’s becoming very weird to read suicide note after suicide note from the left and not to growl “do it already. And stop trying to take us down with you.”
How can people hate themselves so much, at such a deep and disturbing level, and keep projecting it outwards?
Years ago I realized that was at the root of their issues. It’s the only thing that makes sense of what I’ll call, for lack of a better term, their hierarchy of hatred.
They hate those most like them — since most of them are actually white and fairly well off, and often from anodine and exceedlingly well mannered cultures — so they hate white people most (to the point they’ve now decided that “whiteness” comes in many colors. “D*mn white people and their — spins wheel — diversity!”), followed by what they perceive as white culture — even though they assure us white people have no culture — i.e. the sort of nicey-nicey middle class culture that they grew up in, followed by “capitalism” i.e. the free market that allowed them to live and prosper despite being rather sad sacks, followed by whatever country they originate in (seriously, it’s not just America), followed by countries they perceive as similar to their own, followed by countries more distantly related to their own, followed by humanity, followed by mammals, followed by …. life.
They never seem to realize what they really hate is at the center of that hierarchy, and is themselves.
Seriously, if you listen to them, this becomes very obvious. They pretend to lionize foreign cultures, but only until something even more foreign — animals, say — is juxtaposed, and then all humans are bad. And if they’re waxing poetic about an ape, they’ll throw it over for a kangaroo, and then the kangaroo over for a fish.
Their continuous eruption of signs against H8te and H8ters is bizarre if you don’t decode their obsessions. Because you can be sitting there going “Dude, I disapprove of illegal immigration for a host of reasons, including how it hurts the immigrants themselves and their countries of origin, and yes, our country and culture, but I don’t actually HATE anyone. Why are you so convinced the only reason I think differently is that I hate people or things?”
(Actually one of the weirdest moments of my life was realizing I don’t hate anyone not even people like Obama and the Clintons who objectively want to do/have done things that hurt me and my family and destroyed my country. I don’t hate them, not because I’m a good person, but because I don’t care enough for them to hate them. I just want them removed from any even remote ability to hurt me. It’s kind of sad to realize you’re not so much a good person as really, really lazy.)
I see them as turning in a circle of mirrors, and accusing people of all the hate they feel, but they know it can’t come from them.
Oh, and the suicide notes? The Biden administration isn’t even hiding they hate us all and want to destroy us.
The left used to be slightly more veiled. It was all about “care for the working people” or “poor children” or whatever the cause du jour was. And sometimes they were even convincing, at least when I was in my teens (then again I was in my teens.) I mean, their ultimate policies always hurt the people they were going to “help” but at least it had plausible deniability.
Now? Seriously? The “Stimulus” meant to help Americans went mostly abroad, and often for bizarre things, like you know gender studies in Pakistan. And Biden can’t stop himself from telling us all how much he loves Xi and wants to help Xi to world domination, and they really want to pay Iran to nuke Israel and eventually us, and–
Each of the cabinet picks from hell is basically a suicide note penned in America’s stationary, and signed America, but really from the left. (As my friend Bill Reader put it the other day “D*mn it, we didn’t even vote ourselves into socialism.”)
You look at that stuff and think “They really, really hate us.” And you’re not wrong. Of course you’re not.
But what you might not get is how much they truly hate themselves. Which is what is driving all this, in the end.
The dime finally dropped when I was reading an article (okay, the headline and skim) in the Washington post about how the FBI fears — I SWEAR I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP AND THIS WAS PUBLISHED IN A MAINSTREAM NEWSPAPER — “invasion by an army of violent and armed Qanon followers.”
Look, most Qanon followers, if my very brief dip into their twitter threads is exemplary, just say “G-d bless” a lot, and seem to be mostly people in precarious positions who have fallen off the ledge and are being held up by false hope.
I saw more signs of organized militia in my kids’ kindergarten class.
But like with their panic fear that Nancy Pelosi was to be assassinated with buffallo-man-tics, I suddenly realized “They’re telling us what they want.”
All the troops, and all the hysteria, are not so much part of a grand plan but the real and fervent hope that someone, someone, please put them out of their misery.
This conviction, btw, might have to do with the bizarre troll-invasion of my page. Those I clicked through to block? OMG. No, seriously. OMG. I don’t have words.
Some of them are fake profiles, fronts to be able to attack people inpunely. But just as many are their real pages, and they’re a continuous lythany of bitch and moan. Oh, not about politics, or half-joking about their cats, or whatever. I mean, I’m aware my postings haven’t been ecstatic the last year. But even on the most bleak days, there will be a joke, or I’ll like a friends joke.
These people? It’s all about how someone or other is doing them wrong or how they hate, hate, hate, hate living comfortably int he — so far — most prosperous society the world has ever seen, and how that society must therefore be obliterated. And it’s not hard to realize they hate everything because they’re so miserable, and in the end what they hate is that they can’t be happy/can’t find happiness.
What is wrong with them? I don’t know. I really believe they’re in great pain, but I don’t know what caused it. Is it the fact we’re in our third generation where parents hand their kids over to be raised by strangers? (Kids are pretty good at sensing love, and no strangers don’t love them.) Is it that they were told that constant happiness is the objective? (When it’s really not only more or less impossible, but usually a happy byproduct of doing something worthwhile.) Is it that they were raised to have “self esteem” meaning an inflated view of themselves, without being taught anything that would actually sustain them? Is it that they’re just pampered, bored and medicated and have never had to work for their next crust of bread?
The truly bizarre thing is that this seems to extend all through the left. Well, maybe it has something to do with Marxism sanctifying envy. It would attract a certain type of personality.
But still, really? On the rare occasions I buy a lottery ticket (mostly to have the chance to dream of all the absurd things I’d do with it) I’ve been known to joke “I just want a chance to prove it won’t spoil me.”
But the fact is I’ve known very rich people who lived, basically, normal human lives. Sure, they never had to sit in the cleaner isle agonizing “do I buy the good detergent, or can I make do with vinegar, baking soda and the cheap stuff again?” and they might have domestic help, at least of the “come by once a week and make sure I haven’t died under my collapsed TBR pile,” but they’re essentially normal human beings.
So, take the Bidens, the Clintons (please. We don’t want them) or Commie LaWhorish, or Nancy Grey Goose Pelosi.
They’ve each of them stolen, purloined, frauded and in other ways made off with enough money to support third world countries for decades. And they’re miserable. Their kids are on drugs, there’s whiffs of inappropriate sexual behavior all through their relationships, their eyes are dead and their faces reflect deep hatred of everyone and everything.
I know money doesn’t buy happiness, but surely it affords some searchlights to find it, no?
So why are all of them so miserable? So angry? So full of hate for everyone and everything that’s most like them?
And why are they penning suicide notes in all our names?
Honestly, I know I’m not truly a good person, because I should be weeping and praying for them. Well, I do both at times. But MOSTLY? If they were on a ledge, I’d be one of those people rhythmically clapping and shouting “jump, jump, jump.”
Only we’re standing right below them, and they mean to take us out with them.