Come On, Take It a Blast From the Past From January 14 2016

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While some blogs on the right have declared that the United States are already dead, I don’t believe that. After all, a lot of us are still alive.

No, okay, I know we are in a rather icky place, but let’s please be aware that a) this doesn’t mean we’re losing. b) Jerry is probably trying to hack into the email system to send us an email from the afterlife, and the email will say “Despair is a sin.” c) be not afraid.  In the end we win, they lose.  Sursum corda.

But rituals are important. And humans live by them, and by oaths.  So this Blast From The Past seemed needful, and perhaps comforting.

(And for the record, I’m okay.  This entire week I’m away from home, though and my schedule, time, (and access to electricity) is not my own.

Yesterday, on a private forum a friend of mine who here will go under the name Sam Anderson said the following:

Patriotism is good. Nationalism through a patriotic lens, seeing your country as worthwhile, as having prospects and things to be proud of, is not only acceptable but necessary for the health of any nation. But MOST especially the United States, because it’s one thing for the French to be ashamed of being French, but at the end of the day, they’re still going to be French. France is established on ethnic and historical foundations, and even if the French think they suck, there can still be citizens of France. Just not very long, since self-loathing aligns you, first metaphorically, then inevitably in practice, with enemies who ALSO loathe you.

But an American just CAN’T believe in nothing, CAN’T reject the philosophy underpinning America, and be one. Philosophy IS America. There’s nothing else to base it on, and there’s no “philosophy on the side” option. There’s no “shared values” or that bullshit. There’s a piece of paper that lays out precisely how the government functions, tells it what it doesn’t get to do, and tells YOU to go shift for yourself. Now yeah, maybe you can quibble with a point or two of it. Lots of people did then, too. But people who reject, wholesale, that that makes sense as the foundation of a country- who complain about negative rights, who call the constitution outdated de facto, aren’t American, the same way you couldn’t be a Catholic but not believe in G*d. A-philosophical American is a contradiction in terms. The most they can do is live somewhere between Mexico and Canada. We’ve got a lot of that kind of “American”.

But nationalism is only a problem when it starts to supersede rather than represent a people. The American people, left mostly to their own devices, with most of their own money and most of their own time, even if they only SORT OF try to adhere to their founding principles, can turn the world upside down. It’s not because of any particular genetic, ethnocentric, economic, or whatever reason. You could do it with anyone… they’d just have to agree to the challenging but rewarding terms of freedom, which historically much of humanity would rather trade for security. But America, the national body- the government bureaucrats meant to represent the people, who increasingly act in contravention of same- that America cannot find its ass with both hands. It’s just the resurgence of a far inferior product coming back under a much more successful and respected brand.

One of the lines you can draw between right and left is, when a conservative roots for America, they mean the individual entrepreneurs, athletes, artists, and scholars- the millions of little people who even now, every so often, by the grace of determination, judicious risk taking, and hard work, manage to do a few really big things. When a liberal roots for “America”, they back the bully-boys in the government with the private jets… the big institutions that nevertheless manage routinely to fuck up thousands of little things.

THAT’S the form of nationalism that’s toxic.

Let’s go back to what Sam said “Philosophy IS America.”  If you don’t believe in the founding principles, you’re not an American.  You’re at best a permanent resident who grew up here and behaves generally within the law.

We’re a volitional citizenship.  Yes, if you were born here, you are LEGALLY an American.  You can legally be a lot of things that you’re not even close to being in reality.  Take all the college people running around screaming they want to be protected from micro-micro aggressions.  They are legally adults.

My younger kid is also legally an adult, and although closer to an adult than most of the micro-aggressed, he still lives at home and has never had to provide for his daily upkeep.  He’s a legal adult, but not an adult like say any of you who have to work for a living.  (We let him only because he’s taking two stem degrees concurrently and not taking accommodations for his sensory issues.)

Do I think it was a mistake of the founders to allow citizenship of birth in a nation of volition?  You bet your beepy I do.  They got so much right, though, and they were only human.  They couldn’t believe anyone born here, enjoying the blessings of liberty could possibly wish to believe that a system where “we belong to the government” is better.

They were wrong.  In a way, again, understandable, since they’d given their life, their fortunes, their sacred honor for this endeavor and many lost them.  (Read a book called Signing Their Lives Away, if you haven’t yet.)  On the other hand, not understandable, since they knew how revolutionary their system was.  Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness?  You must be mad.  The government as a servant to the sovereign citizen?  Cooee, what world do you come from?  Separation of powers to make it difficult to “get things done”?  Mister, you must be one of them escapees from the asylum.

And yet — and yet — some of us are very much citizens of the volitional nation.  We embrace the vision of the founders, we work to protect the constitution from all enemies foreign and domestic.  We took an oath, and we keep it.

Come on.  Go ahead and take it.  Take it by yourself in the privacy of your heart; take it with your family; take it with a co-worker.

Take the oath.  Then keep it.

“I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen [or a moonstruck admirer for those on the right and left who think those people abroad have a better idea- sah]; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God.”

 

I Can See Clearly Now

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So who has markers on UFO landing for 2020?  Rain of frogs? Plague of Locusts?
Oh, wait, I’m confused, aren’t I?  Even though I’ve picked up a friend’s resounding refrain of “Let my people go!” the script 2020 is running is “Let’s keep the people captive, and we’ll inflict what we have to on them, up to and including complete and utter destruction, as long as we can keep our spurs on them and our seat on their backs.”

Look, it was predictable. It has been obvious for decades to those of us whose experiences predispose them to keep a weather eye for tyranny on the horizon.  By the time I came to the States I was startled to find not only was it not the bastion of freedom I’d hoped, but even though then — at the pinnacle of the cold war — it stood as the opposite pole of communism, the reality on the ground was not …. quite as advertised.  Among the intellectuals and soit disant thinkers even in the early eighties, communism was cool and socialism was “compassionate.” Just like in Europe.

Because you see, the cold war had two sides: the USSR and our elites, who had been corrupted and taken over for a long time thanks to the communist agents who had long-marched through our media, our entertainment and our bureaucracy.

Heinlein claimed the Democrats had been taken over by communists, secretly, by the 40s. I have no reason to doubt him. I’m sure most of the bureaucracy and governments in Europe had been taken over that way also.

Even so called conservatives assumed communism would eventually win, because according to the numbers coming out of the USSR and the reporters visiting the USSR — anyone know where Duranty is buried? there should be a line to piss on his grave — they were just so much more efficient. Scientific governance, you know? And anyway, technology was going to be so advanced that most humans would be unemployable, and by the way, there were more and more humans every year, so it was impossible to have all these bourgeois luxuries.  So communism, efficient, compassionate, communism was the future, the only way.

The realists who saw it was the only way were willing to do anything to bring it about. Because the people who weren’t as intelligent/well informed would otherwise destroy the world and bring about unimaginable catastrophe.

“Conservatives” were merely those who wanted communism to arrive slower and be a little less violent. Communism with a human face. Socialism on the way to communism.  Easing us into our role as cogs in the machinery of the future — where there was no room for personal frills or really emotions — with gentle pneumatic shocks, instead of with the excesses of the Russian and Soviet revolution.

All of this btw is based on three glaring fallacies (phaluscies, since you have to be a dickhead to believe them particularly now.)

1- People are a drain not an asset. They are also a sort of robot incapable of changing behavior in response to changing circumstances.

2- Wealth can’t grow, nor can the carrying capacity of the Earth improve. So since humans can’t respond to reduced infant mortality by having fewer children, the only way to feed everyone is to reduce everyone’s rations. Forever.

3- It is possible for “the best”, properly educated people to be utterly selfless and to administer everyone’s wealth equally and for the common good. They will not revel in power, nor will they avail themselves of any excess.  Because, they are absolutely moral and all seeing.

Note the left is still running this script.  And some on the right too (Hello, Pierre Delecto!) not to mention all of Europe, left and right. Also note #1 conflicts with the left idea that they can bring about a future in which humans change to be all selfless, etc.  But that’s actually complicated and tied in to their myths, which honestly are a Christian heresy, complete with paradise lost.

I know when they started out, the USSR thought it could “engineer” a new human.  Homo Sovieticus.  But I don’t know enough of  Soviet myth to know what underlay that. Maybe it was a behaviorist thing and they thought humans could be trained into being completely selfless automatons.  I know by the time I was reading communist theorists (no, I didn’t buy their arguments, but I was required to read them, given when and where I grew up) in the seventies, the philosophy had fallen prey to the agitprop notion that people in madhouses in the US were political prisoners just as in the USSR. (BTW this is part of what underlay the closing of the madhouses.) And that was part of a push in the seventies, as the malfeasance of USSR was starting to be glaring, amid escaped dissidents and escaping information.  The push was to “prove” that both systems were equally bad. (The left is still flogging that dead equine, too.  So Cubans and Venezuelans are starving? So how many people die of anomie and not being loved enough under capitalism? REEEEE.)  So, since Soviets put dissidents in mad houses, so did we. But that necessitated that people who widdled on themselves and/or thought they were a lampshade with a set of dishes thrown in be completely sane “political dissidents”.  The only way to do this was to attribute anything communists don’t like to “insanity brought about by capitalism.”  This led to crazier byways of thought.  For instance, it led to the idea of the pre-historic, pre-agriculture paradise, where everyone was equal, there was no poverty, need, greed, or the heartbreak of psoriasis.  A sub-branch of the church believed women were in charge and everyone worshiped the mother goddess.  And some of these “scientific, atheist socialists” also believe the goddess actually exists, though G-d doesn’t.

So, forgive me for taking this long digression through complete insanity, but it’s important because it’s part of how the left argues.  This is how “capitalism” (which is their bizarre name for the free exchange of goods and services) is responsible for everything from neurosis to murder, from your art not being appreciated to war.  If we just did away with private property, we’d have a “brotherhood of man” (and for the current form of the cult, it must be said and can’t be understood that man includes woman, people who have to look in their pants to figure out what they are, and people who look in their pants every morning to remember what they are, and people who look in their pants and don’t like what they see.  And people who think they’re wingless dragons and ornate buildings) where no one is ever greedy or mean.

This is the picture in the left’s heads right now.  The fact that it has bloody nothing to do with reality doesn’t matter.  They have begs and explanations for all the glaring discrepancies.  Because these require bending backwards and folding your mental processes into a mobius strip and really believing in received wisdom, they believe this makes them “smarter.”  It is part of what led to the idea that having the right (left) opinions was the definition of being “smart.”

Anyway, this was the landscape when I came to the US. If you were so uncouth as to say you supported Reagan, you were obviously either stupid or crazy. And you were definitely an “extremist.”

Which brings to where we’re now.

A funny thing happened in the middle of the Long March on the way to the great socialist paradise.

Other than the fact that Reagan dismantled the USSR and exposed their lies.  (Though don’t expect the left to admit it.)

You see, the more convoluted and cult-like the left became, the more the people selected as “smart” and given positions of power or accolades for their achievements are not even second rate.  They are, instead, typical “followers” and cult converts. Which is a definite personality type, and one known neither for flexibility or creativity.  (Which explains the sorry state of our establishment arts and literature and, really, any entertainment.)

It also explains why they keep getting sucker punched by change  And why their clever plans are starting to resemble Wile E. Coyote “genius.”

And we live in a time of extreme change driven by technology. All their efforts to drive us back to the 1930s keep backfiring, because you can’t put tech back in the bottle.  So, you know, they took over the media only to see it become completely irrelevant. And the more they tighten their grip, the more irrelevant they become. They drove genre publishing into the ground by allowing ONLY the approved opinions.

And they’re in the process of losing what remains of their power by trying to hold onto it.

EVERYTHING — everything — from the Obama administration preparing a coup on his successor and violating the law in ways that should make everyone apologize to that old statist Nixon, to the insane attempt at an impeachment, to the overreaction panic the media drove over Winnie the Flu which has managed to destroy the economies of the US and the west, to the current riots to avoid the “danger” that the economy will recover before November elections: ALL OF THIS are attempts to hold on to power.

The fact that the attempts are increasingly crazier, and keep backfiring in more and more spectacular ways is your measure of how inadequate the left is to the task of coping with reality, and how much their foundational myth is letting them down.

Yes, it’s going to get rough. They’ve proven they’ll do anything and destroy anything in order to get power back. Not a surprise. They are the ideological kin of those who rule in Cuba, Venezuela and North Korea. Reigning in hell is what they do.  They’ve also proven they don’t understand the US is not any of those and that they just don’t GET us or just how prosperous and inventive the US is.  In fact that’s part of their problem. They don’t GET either creativity or invention.

Someone said the Trump superpower is to reveal what is going on behind the leftist pretences.  Maybe.  At least he’s not cooperating in the farce (in most cases. I still have issues with his going along with the Winnie the Flu “experts.” Though he learns, and I’m fairly sure it’s the last time he’ll do that.) But to an extent this was going to happen.

Sooner or later the left was going to hit reality. They’ve been on a collision course a long, long time. Their attempts to hold on to power have been getting more and more outrageous.  Sooner or later, it was going to explode in their faces.  It was just a matter of timing.

Well, the time is now. 2020 is the year of seeing clearly. Just remember what you’re seeing, the sewer of leftist corruption, power-greed and insanity has been there a long time. Maybe eighty years.  What you’re smelling is OLD.  It’s part of the reason it’s so bad. Due to the complexity of the media, it’s been festering a long, long time.

Hold on to your hats.  It’s going to get worse. And the plagues they visit on us, in an attempt to re-mount are going to get more outrageous.

Just remember this is not the result of their being strong but the result of their — literally — losing their grip.

Stay ungovernable, my friends. Stay American. The left can’t stand that.  And it is the way we’ll win, they’ll lose.  Be not afraid!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike and Book Promo

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Yes. I’m very late. Schedule wise this next week will be crazy. Bear with me. Things should get better after.

Book Promo

*Note these are books sent to us by readers/frequenters of this blog.  Our bringing them to your attention does not imply that we’ve read them and/or endorse them, unless we specifically say so.  As with all such purchases, we recommend you download a sample and make sure it’s to your taste.  If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. I ALSO WISH TO REMIND OUR READERS THAT IF THEY WANT TO TIP THE BLOGGER WITHOUT SPENDING EXTRA MONEY, CLICKING TO AMAZON THROUGH ONE OF THE BOOK LINKS ON THE RIGHT, WILL GIVE US SOME AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR PURCHASES MADE IN THE NEXT 24HOURS, OR UNTIL YOU CLICK ANOTHER ASSOCIATE’S LINK. PLEASE CONSIDER CLICKING THROUGH ONE OF THOSE LINKS BEFORE SEARCHING FOR THAT SHED, BIG SCREEN TV, GAMING COMPUTER OR CONSERVATORY YOU WISH TO BUY. That helps defray my time cost of about 2 hours a day on the blog, time probably better spent on fiction. ;)*

I WROTE THIS. NO I HAVE NO IDEA WHY THE CHICK IS BLUE. IT WAS THE FILTERS TO THE ARTWORK…  I’LL EVENTUALLY FIX IT, BUT NOT HIGH PRIORITY RIGHT NOW:

FROM ALYX SILVER –  What if He Were to Pick Me: A Pride And Prejudice Variation With A Dash of Insanity.

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What if Mr. Darcy, trying to avoid the appearance of being lofty and proud, so far mistook himself as to be charmed by Lydia Bennet?
How long could the fair strumpet lady hold his interest? How would Elizabeth Bennet feel about it?
As all the Bennet sisters fall into the strangest of relationships, you’ll fear you lost your mind. But you haven’t. Just grab your sweetie and a whip – in case of unruly pillows – and hire a Bennet coach to Gretna Green. They have the best carriages, and guarantee no one will catch you.
Then hold on to your hat. You’re in for the ride of your life.

For those of you who are Sarah Hoyt completists, or like to keep track of everything I wrote or something…
This was written in 1998. (At the same time as DST, which wouldn’t sell for over a decade after that.)  My husband had a traveling job. I was stuck home with elementary schooler and toddler alone for five days a week.  Though I knew every place in town where kids ate free, I was lacking adult conversation/companionship. I couldn’t give DST away for love or money, even though I was convinced (still am) it was my best work to date.

I needed to do something. So I acquired a hobby of doing Jane Austen fanfic. And went insane. The second part is obvious.  This was my first fanfic. The others are more aux-serieux .  And yes, I’ll be putting them out.
Also incidentally, this is free to the end of today: But He Turned Out Very Wild.

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This one is serious. TWISTED, but serious.

Eventually Alyx will branch out into regencies.  Some of you know what those are and that they are started.  BUT I promise it’s still a hobby.  I.e. what I do when I’m brain fried, in the evening, or (if I can afford Dragon Naturally, because the others aren’t working and that will take — sigh — some money. I’m considering auctioning a couple of cloth dragons, to buy it. More anon.) in dictation while cleaning/gardening/remodeling the house.

FROM NATHAN C. BRINDLE:  Saving the Spring: A short fantasy.

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Jack Randall knew immediately something was off when he pulled up to the old roadhouse.

Little did he know that crossing paths that night with the establishment’s beautiful bartender and her handsomely-rugged boyfriend/cook would lead to him recalling his former life as a god – or fighting a rematch with the god who had stolen his memories.

https://amzn.to/3dfZyrT

FROM MARY CATELLI:  Dragonfire and Time.

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An angry dragon demands justice of the king.

Mae, a royal wizard, is assigned the task: the dragon had metted out her own justice, burning a thief with dragonfire, but she had seen him since, whole and sound, and this she will not tolerate, so Mae must put an end to it.

Mae goes to discover the truth of this before the dragon leaves its lair to extract her own justice. And in her search of the spring festivities, learns more secrets than the dragon had even guessed of.

FROM ALMA BOYKIN:  Horribly Familiar: Familiar Tales Book Twelve.

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Love, romance, curses, and . . . chaperones?

Nothing aside from magic comes easily for two shadow mages. André Lestrang relocates to Riverton just in time for the summer humidity and storm season. He and his fiancée Lelia Chan struggle to balance work, magic, their relationship, and his Army career. When someone sends a magical package bomb to one of their friends, a chain reaction of trouble ensues.

Add in two Familiars determined to ensure that their mages don’t get “in trouble” before the wedding, the usual mischief a ring-tailed lemur, kit fox, wolverine, and others can devise, and a dash of new responsibilities to the magical community. Lelia and André discover that the summer starts to feel . . . Horribly Familiar.

 

Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.

So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.

We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.

If you have questions, feel free to ask.

Your writing prompt this week is: EFFICACIOUS.

Everything Is Fine

Well…. kind of. I woke up feeling like I had a hangover all over my body. I THINK it was the result of doing a bunch of cleaning and moving furniture yesterday.
I have the WD chapter started, but I won’t lie, will probably go up tomorrow afternoon. Sorry.

It’s been weird. But everyone is okay.

At The End of Time

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Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

At the end of time, he found it, growing out of the parched Earth, and stopped to look at it.

Its data banks said it was “beautiful” and also “a rose.” But the little robot didn’t know what beautiful or rose meant. He just knew the words in his data banks.  And he knew it had been a long time since those terms had been activated.

For far too long, he’d been roaming the parched landscape with nothing breaking the monotony of the grey skies above and the grey dirt below.

Now there was a rose. And it was blue.  His data banks said blue roses didn’t exist. Or at least they didn’t exist in the place called Earth.

But Earth was not a planet of grey dirt, craked under foot, and unending grey skies above.  The little robot in fact, realized that he didn’t know what Earth was or where it was. Words like emissary and probe and slow boat spaceship came to mind, but he didn’t know how they applied anymore.

He’d been activated long ago, and then there was grey sky and grey dirt.

He sat down.

It appeared, though it was not a certain thing, and the little robot wasn’t set to evaluate uncertainty — or was he? He couldn’t remember anymore. And was he supposed to be thinking of himself as he? Or simply registering inputs? — that the rose turned slightly.

Maybe just a movement of reply to the light reflection in his carapace. It probably meant nothing, which made him sad.  But he wasn’t supposed to be sad, was he?

From his memory banks came a conversation he’d been present at and recorded, back when he didn’t think of himself as “he” or had been aware there was a choice to record or not to record.

“With all the AI systems we’re putting into this, he might become sentient, you know?”

“I don’t believe in sentient machines. You’ve been reading Heinlein again.”

“You’re not thinking. it has so many systems, it could well wake up. Become sentient. Develop an idea of who and what he is.”

“And what? Betray Earth? Fall in love with an alien? It’s a probe, Carl, nothing more.”

Was he a probe? Nothing more? What was sentient? Or Heinlein.

He didn’t know. He knew he was lonely. And even if it was reflex, the rose had…. moved. Towards him.

He reached clumsy fingers and touched the edge of the blue petal.

“Tell me a story,” he said.

Be For Real

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Sometime ago, my sons, one at a time and in different conversations, told me the thing their generation prizes the most is being “real.” However neither of them could explain to me what that meant, precisely.

I think to an extent I know.  Take this blog for instance (okay, don’t take it, how would I wake up without writing 2k words every morning? BUT feel free to encourage my misdeeds by throwing a few virtual coins at that link on the right.)

I started it at the behest of fourth agent.  You see, I didn’t have the money to self-finance book tours. I hadn’t gone to college with anyone useful. I had neither the money, the time nor the emotional resources to do the job publishers no longer did (in fact, my publishers were more or less aggressively anti-doing-it; i.e. not only not publicizing the books but through slipped publication dates, lousy covers, and just general weirdness making it hard for even devoted fans to find my books. Even if I knew — not often — the books were out and told them so.) So she advised a low cost — and low return — alternative: this blog.

The problem is of course for a blog to become popular is an uphill battle.  It started with the fact that I was attempting this when everyone said the age of the blog was past. If I’d had a time machine I’d have started the blog in 1998, of course. But as usual I find myself without these necessary accouterments. It continued with a friend’s insistence that if the blog was ever going to make it, I needed to blog every day.

The only “model” for blogging every day I could find was using it instead of “pages in the morning.”  I have a friend who swears by this.  He rolls out of bed, sans coffee, and writes however many pages he can, long hand. These are not meant to ever be seen by anyone, and you can them whatever.

I tried this for a brief time in the nineties, when I was more blocked than a constipated armadillo and I found out that my subconscious is either a whiny 8 year old — and I don’t care if no one else will ever see it, I don’t want to listen to it. I’ve raised the boys. I’m not willing to endure my own inner brat — or a machine for generating stories. After a while the “pages in the morning” book filled with ideas, plots, brief character sketches.  And then I gave up and just wrote.

But if I were going to do a blog, I could do it on the principle of “pages in the morning.” I.e. take whatever is biting me early in the day and splay it here.

Now, needless to say — you’re not children — this is not my real me, as such. It’s impossible to put the real you on display (though my ADD is on full pinned-on glory right now, isn’t it?) on such a thing as a blog.  One of the things you don’t often get is my depression or fatalism.  That’s not so much an attempt to hide it from you, as to hide it from myself. I’ve found that if I talk about my fears or my sense of doom it only feeds the black dog. So often my ah…. sunny optimism is an attempt to cajole myself out of a bad spot. Oh, it’s me, too. But it’s the strategies I’ve learned to use to cope with the other side of me.

Also I don’t need to tell you everything I have to do today (heck, I’d prefer not to tell ME but nobody asked me) from laundry to some mending, to moving aside the big pile of branches so son’s moving truck can park in the driveway.  (The stone moving project is temporarily in abeyance.) Or that I’m heartened that restaurants are opening, but divided as to whether I can support them, because of the mask requirement.  We can talk about that at another time, but to strap onto my face a symbol of compliance with a ridiculous and useless order is akin to telling a lie because I’ve been ordered to, and I think that’s what starts the corruption of societies into totalitarianism. On the other hand, the order doesn’t come from restaurants, and they need the money. On yet the other hand, compelled speech and not letting people manage their own risk are steps on the road to hell.

Anyway, although because I write this pre-adderal and pre-coffee, you often get the full blown ADD dancing naked, you don’t need to know every stray thought that crosses my mind.

HOWEVER the “curated me” I first tried on the blog was way more effort than it was worth.

Because I couldn’t talk about any of the things that actually interested me — politics, economics, philosophical credo, or whatever I’d been reading and how it affected me — since I was deep in the political closet, I (instead) had to talk only of writing, my stories, my pets or those experiences I knew to be “acceptable” to the establishment.

Now, those are also me, but it’s almost impossible to do in an hour or so in the morning. I had to think about it, shape it, etc. and sometimes just couldn’t think of anything to say (this will be the general content of my writer’s page, but I only INTEND to do that once a week or so, as it will replicate the contents of my newsletter.  Which speaking of, I need volunteers to test sometime this week.)

My blog limped along for 2 or 3 years, with fifty reader (some of you have been here since then, I know) and I often forgot to post.

I finally lost my mind (there were several circumstances) and decided to come out politically, knowing full well it would eventually cost me my career. (Even the one house that shouldn’t care, does, when you’re a woman and a minority, because the rest of the establishment makes sure they care. I.e. you’re double d*mned if you walk off the plantation the left has built for entire categories of people. It’s hard to defeat a claim that you’re both stupid and insane, and if you don’t think such a claim affects distribution…  well!)

Anyway, that is when the blog started taking off.  Mind you, I still don’t think it does much of anything good for my fiction sales. But by the time I had ascertained that, this blog was a community I thought of as friends and family, and in a way necessary to my mental health.

Still, the blog took off when it was “my real me” and my real interests and ideas.

So to an extent I understood  what the kids meant.  To another extent, the very fact they were obsessed with “being real” tells you a lot about our society.

Let me put it this way, the last age to become obsessed with being real was pre-revolutionary France.

Oh, the enlightenment had a lot of injunctions about not being hypocritical or doing “natural” things. But in France they became utterly obsessed with it.

This was at a time when manners were such a complicated and bizarre dance that you had to learn them from an early age to pass in polite society; when the public self and the private self might be completely different people; and when the public displays had got so out of hand it wasn’t odd for women to wear battle ships among their — fake — locks.

So they craved “real.”

In the same way, our young crave “real” because, though in most circles the display is not physical (except for masks) they know they don’t live in a “real” world.

Those who aren’t stupid might never admit it, but they realized in high school that the teachers who insisted you “question authority” never meant THEIR authority. They realized early on that the same adults who told them to let it all hang out were very careful to only bleat the same opinions as the herd. They realized at some level the party that claims to care for the destitute is filled with millionaires. And they know how much virtue signaling hides florid vice.  So they crave “real”.

I suspect this is part of the left’s obsession with hypocrisy.  They KNOW they’re hypocrites. So they need to prove other people are as well, in order to sleep at night. And they descend to considering others hypocrites in relation not to what others believe or do, but to what the left believes they SHOULD believe or do. Hence why all our leftist friends think memes with “socialist Jesus” are a gotcha, based on their imperfect understanding of scriptures and of non-leftists as well.

The obsession with being “real” and “not lying” is such that it leads to ridiculous book plots in which it is a lie if you don’t fully disclose all your thoughts and feelings to complete strangers.

This approaches the more bizarre Rousseaunian reaches of the Enlightenment in which if a woman were raped, the rapist was now considered her “natural husband” and she could take no other.  It’s not a particularly healthy, or sane attitude, and can only be understood as a reaction to all the lies they are supposed to repeat while knowing they are lies.

It’s not healthy or sane, because not letting it all hang out allows humans to live together without bashing each other over the head with a big rock.  When I was in the political closet — and my leftist colleagues weren’t and were vocal, but were also marginally saner than they are now — having to keep quiet about politics (it was only when that stopped being allowed and vocal endorsement required that the wheels came off) — meant that I could get to know these people as people, outside their politics. And you know, most of them are not bad people. They have the politics they have partly despite themselves, and often by not telling themselves the truth about the ultimate consequences of such things as believing all cultures are “equally valid.”

Manners, interaction and politeness are good for society. It allows to see the others as humans, no matter how much you disagree.

On the other hand, the left couldn’t let well enough alone. Partly because they know they’re double-thinking and signaling things that are either impossible or impossible for them, and then ignoring the result of what they endorse, they require — each time louder — vocal endorsement of their delusions from everyone.

The problem is that the more they require this vocal endorsement to be able to work, live or do business in the world, the more they know this is compelled speech, and thereby a “lie” and the more they crave authenticity, without realizing that you can’t both compel authenticity and demand that people agree with you.

Look, even if it were correct that socialism had never really been tried, and is the best way for humans to live, even if men and women were exactly the same outside the obvious, even if “social justice” (however the left defines it) were the highest calling of mankind, there will be humans who dissent. There are always humans who dissent. Look at the humans who believe the Earth is flat, or people who think dinosaurs orbit the Earth in a spaceship.

And the really weird thing is that we know, through history, sometimes the weirdest dissent opinions turn out to be right. (Well, not things like flat Earth. NASA assures me they checked. So did the Greeks.) Or at least turn out to be possible.

So, when you make everyone not only shut up (which is bad enough) but vocally endorse the consent, you know it’s not “real” and you feel discomfited.

That feeling that things aren’t “real” and that things aren’t “right” are alarms ringing in the back of your mind about how dangerous the situation is becoming.

Remember how pre-revolutionary France ended.

Demanding that people endorse the opinions you WANT to be real louder and louder and louder is only going to make the alarms ring louder.

As it should.

The real world is full of discord, disagreement, and there’s not such thing as “proven” social anything, except for the immutable nature of humanity.  Trying to change that is not “real” but as crazy as demanding the weather obey your commands.  Humans can self-control and self-moderate (though it takes training) but not fundamentally change their nature as social apes who think.

You want “real” you have to tear down “Safe spaces” and stop considering speech as aggression.  Take the battle ship off your head. Dismantle all the locks you pinned on.

What’s underneath might just be a brain that can think.

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My word. Misplace mine own head next. I forgot to tell you that I put out an Austen Fanfic under Alyx Silver (my nom the fanfic.) It’s called What if He Were to Pick Me?and I want to emphasize I was neither drunk nor on drugs when I wrote it.  Also, it was the first fanfic I wrote, and it was a hobby, when actual publication seemed an impossible thing.

Also although I had been writing for attempted publication for YEARS, this was my first fanfic. I cleaned it up a lot, but it’s still rough around the edges.  ALSO the line about unruly pillows got me kicked out a fanfic site, back in the day, for being too racy (!). Anyway, if you follow that link you can buy it (It’s 2.99) or read it with Kindle Unlimited.  And hopefully you enjoy it, if nothing else as a sort of juvenalia.

 

The Political Writer

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I’m tired, or perhaps lazy, and actually have paying work to do (of the fiction kind.)  I promise a post tomorrow, but for today, I will echo my post at Mad Genius Club. Comment here or there, or both, as you please.

There is a trope going around establishment science fiction where they prove again and again that we’re wrong when we say that “science fiction shouldn’t be political.”

They prove it conclusively, to their satisfaction, by demonstrating that science fiction has always been political, and therefore we’re not only wrong, we’re ignorant of the history of the field.  Then they take a victory lap to the acclaim of their sycophants.

There’s only one thing wrong with that: we NEVER said that.

Oh, I’m sure someone said that. There are douche canoes that say just about anything. But no one with any following. And no one who has read a lot of science fiction.

Yes, a lot of science fiction is inherently political. This is so because we build worlds with what we know (or think we know) and who we are. And because humans are political animals, stories are often political.

The second novel I read in science fiction was A Canticle For Leibowitz. (The first might not have been science fiction. (Well, the first I remember reading — Have Space Suit, Will Travel — my brother assures me wasn’t available in Portuguese until three years later. Though why that should matter when I read most SF/F in pirated editions, not knowing they were pirated, I don’t know.) It was Out of Their Minds by Clifford Simak. ) Anyone thinking that Canticle has nothing to do with nuclear politics/disarmament or even with the role of the Catholic church in preserving civilization, let alone with the Catholic church’s ideas on sex (or what the author perceived them as being) is someone who is incapable of reading subtext. And I mean, more incapable of reading subtext than an 11 year old girl.

In the same way, I have read all of Heinlein, going way back, and yeah, I saw the not so subtle shilling for a world government (because that would totes stop wars.) I read Le Guin, the good the bad and the “I’m tearing my hair out because this is so bloody stupid.” We’ll go into that later, but for now, suffice to say that even her most “political screed” like book still had a story, and still kept you reading.  Afterwards you might sit there going “Oh, dear Lord” and you might hesitate to buy the next one, but you still read it.

Yesterday, in fact, in a small facebook group consisting of my online family, we were discussing The Left Hand of Darkness, which I have problems with — biology and behavior in relation to biology and the fact that on re-read a few years ago what I had though was a masterful narration read “too seventies for words” kind of like a macrame plant hanger in written form. (A lot of other authors of the time have this issue, in fact, going back to the sixties, and stretching to the early 80s. Some Heinleins suffer from this too. Well, two of them. But not to that extent. In Heinlein’s case it’s just the …. lingo? but in LHOD it’s also the “folk” narrative construction. I UNDERSTAND this is my own, personal problem, okay? I came of age in the seventies, and have been trying to get away from anything that reminds me of those years since.)

Anyway, in relation to THAT, we were talking about how many books written by women in that time period seem to be about women outsourcing/not doing house-care and child-care in an ideal society (or in the case of TLHOD and others, childcare being communal.)

And we were talking about how we did that, more or less, by outsourcing child care and just not doing housework, but we’ve learned that’s a) less than optimal (particularly for the children) and b) doesn’t work that way.

However none of this detracts in any way from competent stories told that assume these things.  At most I shrug, as I do at Heinlein having space colonies in the seventies, and go “it didn’t turn out that way.”

BUT provided that the characters are people, and the plot works, I still read, re-read and enjoy those novels.

Not because they’re political, but because politics don’t matter to the worth of a book.

If the book is COMPETENTLY written and not a screed with a thin veneer of fiction,  I still read, re-read and enjoy the book. Even if the author writing the book had diametrically opposite views to my own and therefore their projected future is insane, by my views.  I will roll my eyes if they take time away from the story for a mini-rant, or skim over that part and go back to where the story resumes, like a normal human being, instead of getting hung up on it.

In fact, there’s stories — and no, I’m not going to name names, duh — whose politics I completely agree with, but which are so infused with politics that they fall into the realm of “just so stories” and therefore boring. I know who the winners and losers will be from page one, because the author — who is on my side politically — made that ABUNDANTLY clear. I know every turn. I roll my eyes at the rants in the middle of the story, and somewhere along the line I shrug and go watch paint dry or check on the progress of sidewalk cracks. OR SOMETHING.

And that’s what we’ve been saying:

We assume stories will have politics in them. Even utterly non-political stories like my Shifter series reflect my politics in that I think it’s better, say, to work in a diner than to be homeless or on welfare. That’s my politics, or my principles, from which my politics evolved. “Do for yourself and look after those who can’t.”  And they WILL come through.

Of course science fiction and fantasy have more politics in them than the usual genre, because, well, you’re making up entire worlds, which means more scope to get political in.

BUT FICTION ISN’T POLITICS.  Or it shouldn’t be.  As someone said “if you want to send a message use Western Union.”

I’d soften that to be “if you want to send a message and can’t amuse someone who disagrees with you while doing so, use Western Union.”  Because I’ve read message fic I disagreed with but which entertained me VASTLY.  Hell, I disagree with the message in some of my own fiction (no, you don’t get to know which. D*mn it, I need to finish entering edits and re-print those) partly because behind the overt message which I put in to please the publisher there’s a lot of sneaky questions designed to make you THINK about that overt message.

In other words: stop the mentally-challenged victory lap. That straw man is dead. We never said that science fiction (or any other writing) shouldn’t be political.  We said it shouldn’t be judged on the “correctness” of the politics, and that it shouldn’t be considered great simply because it is politically correct or repeats the things the establishment — while cos-playing anti-establishment — wants it to.

NO ONE requires that you hide your politics, or even that the point of your story (particularly short stories, which usually have OBVIOUS points) not be political.  No one even asks that.  You’re human. What you are and what you believe will come through your art, or it’s not worth spit.

What readers require is that you make it entertaining. That your characters come alive, that real things happen to them, that the action and goal make sense at some level. At least enough to keep us immersed while we’re reading. Even if in the end you make all your male magicians magical castrati. It has to pull you along while you’re reading.  Afterwards you can go “Oh, h*ll, that was stupid. I’ll pretend that book never was part of the series. Only the trilogy exists.”  But while you’re reading it, it works.

Make it a good and competent story, and we will read it. We might even love it. (I love at least one novel where I disagree with all of the open message, including “the” and “a”.)

Make it a message that screams through the story and tries to make us love it BECAUSE of the message and if we don’t it’s because we’re “ists” not to mention evil, and we’ll turn away in droves. Your ability to compel sales was always limited and is now over. And you can’t compel fandom.

To appropriate one of my favorite Heinlein quotes, and change it for the purpose: a purported artist who has only explicit political message in his/her work and relies only on explicit and approved politics for his/her academic job, for his/her accolades and for his/her livelihood is a whore. An incompetent one.

 

For This Our Country Committed Suicide

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Can we leave the liberals in their bunkers, cyanide at the ready, while the rest of us resume life?  Because this is insane:

Wuhan Virus Watch: CDC Says Coronavirus Infection Fatality Rate Could be as Low as 0.26%

Of course, most of them are AMERICAN journalists and bought-and-paid for politicians:

Top Chinese Diplomats Call for ‘Wolf Warrior’ Army to Push Diplomatic Agenda Abroad

 

Nah, brah.  I speak fluent leftist, having lived among them so long. This can be translated as “We plan to steal the election and want to preemptively make it impossible for Trump to push back” just like they ran with the lie that Trump had called the virus an hoax so that Trump…. couldn’t call the panic over the virus an hoax:  NY Times Pushes Conspiracy Theory About Trump Refusing to Accept 2020 Outcome

Also, what happens when some people get bored: Go here for your Winnie The Flu (Winnie the Flu, Winnie the Flu, creepy little virus hyped up into the plague. Winnie the Flu, Winnie the Flu…..)  select a pie.Feel free to do image captures and memes. One of the things we have to get used to as non-leftists is doing the information (and advertising) campaigns the so called leaders won’t do.

And now I’m going to drink a vat of caffeine and do some work.  Allergies are better than last week (rain helped) but they take a while to clear.

Nothing to Live or Die for

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What if you gave your life for the wrong cause? Pardon me, I mean, as the left was so fond of asking in the oughts, a question that stopped completely and suddenly as soon as Obama was elected “What if you were the last to die for a mistake?”

What indeed?  What do you think that would make, you the lone ranger?

With 2020 — ah! — vision, looking back, it’s possible to question the rationale of every single war.

Sure, Memorial day was established to commemorate the civil war dead. And because it was a civil war, at least half of them were fighting for the wrong cause, right?  Because I don’t want to get you people arguing that particular war — there is no win in that either — let’s stipulate that slavery, like rape and murder, is a horror that humanity is prone to. And that here it took a war to get rid of it.  That it led to other things, including a more powerful federal government is arguably a bad thing — as we have proof daily.  — In fact, while the civil war happened because of the inherent contradiction between “all men were created equal” and allowing some states to keep slaves, it could be said a lot of our present strife is the working out of the big contradiction between “Let us die to make men free” and “we’ll have a federal government large enough to give you everything you need and take away all your natural rights in the process.”

It has become chic in the circles of people whose entire education is designed to make them avoid thinking to tear down confederate war memorials, because in their heads these people automatically stand for slavery and white supremacy.  But that was not why most — note I said MOST, we’re humans, there’s always idiots — had monuments put up to them or were celebrated.  In fact, most of the monuments were erected to people’s OTHER achievements in life, other qualities.  Because after the war a lot of them integrated just fine in post-slavery society, and set about doing sometimes admirable things: careers in law or in philanthropy and even the occasional blinkered career in local politics.

And a lot of the monuments were for the person. For the man himself.  “But, you say, if the man fought to keep slavery, isn’t he an awful human being?”

That’s not how war works. Most of the men fighting were probably not fighting to keep slavery going as such. They were fighting because humans are killer apes, and once the balloon went up the North was going to sweep the South (if no one defended the South) which meant…

Which meant that they wouldn’t stop and ask every man on the street (much less every woman) if they were slave owners, or, more importantly, if they agreed with slavery.  (There is enough confusion in the biography of our Southern Founding Fathers to know that owning slaves was no covalent to supporting the institution of slavery.)  They were going to put the land to fire and sword, everyone.

And there was the other side of it.  The one that one is amused the left never brings up, since one assumes in the light of Marx (….  Except that they’re lousy Marxists. They’re people who don’t even know they’re Marxists, except for revering that one dead white male, while not sure why they do. They’re training in not thinking is very thorough.) they’d ask themselves if the North was completely against slavery as such. Because, you know, immigrants coming in, barefoot and destitute (not to mention illiterate) from the shores of Europe were offered citizenship to joint he Northern forces.  Some historians (not sure how reputable, but they were quoted in my history books in college, so probably not very) claim that this gave the North the advantage needed to win the war.

Whether there’s any merit in the claim, do you think the South didn’t hear it? Do you think they didn’t hear of the plight of those factory workers? And how much worse it was than slavery, because those using their labor didn’t feel obligated to look after them?

And sure, the South were racist. Actually both sides were racist. Actually pretty much the whole world was racist until the shocks of WWII worked themselves through the culture.  And significant portions of the US — not normally those with pale skin, oddly — are still racist. As is the rest of the world by and large. You haven’t met racism unless you go to China as a round eyes.

Racism, like murder and rape, might well be baked into the human race. After all, we now have evidence many different subspecies of our genus “grew up” together. Getting captured by the wrong band could easily mean that you went from being a cherished child or wife, to being a midnight snack.  Heck, even within the same subspecies.

So babies are born with a fear of stranger danger, and growing up learn the “right way to do things” — i.e. the way we do it, not like those barbarian over that ridge, who tie their loincloths all wrong — which means they could, in times when hostile bands lived cheek by jowl, get “stranger danger” warnings and run before the other band got close enough to spit roast them.

“But Sarah,” you say. “Racism is still wrong. Slavery is still wrong. I can’t understand why you’re defending them.”

Oh. You must be one of those skim till offended precious darlings, or one of the bots who claims to have the highest IQ ever.  Brush up on your English. A dictionary might help. Also re-read what I wrote. Slowly. Ask someone with two more IQ points than you to explain the big words.

I AM NOT DEFENDING EITHER OF THOSE.  Just as I’m not defending murder, rape or war.

What I’m saying is that if you’re picking sides in a war in the past, based on having been told a side was “racist” you’re an idiot.  It’s like picking sides over whether one was sexist or homophobic.  By our definitions? all of them were.  And the sides that “tolerated” homosexuality or gave women rights often put twists in both of those that would make you sick to your stomach, such as the implicit acceptance of forced pedophilia, or making women live as men whether they wanted to or not. (Neither of those in the US.)

In the same way while slavery was objectively a horrible thing, and one side was fighting to end it, it doesn’t mean every soldier from the North fought to end it, or that every soldier from the South fought to defend it.

Humans go to war for a complex number of reasons. And again, once the shooting starts, you pick sides for a lot of reasons, most of them not philosophical or high flown. Most of them boil down to “I’m defending my mother/sister/wife/brother/land.” Because that’s why killer apes fight, for the band.

Because here’s the thing, buckos: if we start questioning who was right in what war, it’s not going to end the way people think.  Because if we start examining everything now, with our vision of how things turned out? No war was just, ever.

Take WWI. I learned about it as The War Of The Two Defeated.  The Portuguese fought on the side of the allies.  Barefoot, starving and often with no guns, because the revolution against the king that happened before that was led by anarchists of the leftist variety, which means their plant for paradise started with “First, bankrupt the country.”  (Some things never change.)

Until I was in my teens (I think. Or early twenties) a much feted veteran of the first world war lived nearby.  He was feted despite the fact that, had he been French, he’d have been shot. You see, “veteran” is an exaggeration.  Faced with trench warfare while barefoot, poorly clad, in a climate colder than he’d grown up with, with no gun and no training, he stole the bicycle of a messenger before the Germans attacked, and rode it as far as it went then walked the rest of the way home.  Eminently sensible, for an individual, in a situation where his death wouldn’t even slow the enemy.

But–

But then what does that do to the memory of the  Americans who died at the battle of the Lys, fighting on foreign soil in a war they could have avoided altogether?

Nothing. It doesn’t even do anything to or for their memory if you know a lot of them were propagandized into fighting, or coerced into going to war by societal pressure. Or even that they had a German name, were known to be of German ancestry and HAD to go fight the Germans or their families wouldn’t be safe in small town USA. (Seriously, read the primary sources of the period.)

It doesn’t diminish their memory one single jot. They still fought and died and gave the final measure for their loved ones and their land.  Even if they got there by a roundabout way.  And even if we know their sacrifice was only the first step in the long war of the twentieth century which would end with Germany buying its way to power (and more or less being int he process of choking on it) they couldn’t get through force.

“What if you were the last one to die for a mistake?”

What of it? Also, please clarify semantic content: what do you define as a mistake? And are you sure that banner you’re carrying to signal your virtue won’t make future generations recoil? Because I almost guarantee most of them will.

So, you say, if all wars are wrong, shouldn’t we abolish war?

What a beautiful thought.  Perhaps Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny can negotiate this permanent unbroken peace. Shall we ask them?

In the history of humans there are many false steps, and many — MANY — good people died on both sides of wars that perhaps never needed to be fought.

So, war, what is it good for?

Well…. We don’t know, see? We are like flies trapped in a bead of amber. Our life is much shorter than that which our minds can compass, backward and forward into the future. We don’t KNOW. We can look back and sneer at the long European war of the twentieth century, and also America even being involved at all. But we don’t know what our time would be like without it.  Could it have been better? Sure. Maybe.

But I have this theory that cultures are as alive as individuals. And they change in very slow (and very strange) ways.  None of them rational. Which is why the left’s attempts to social engineer entire cultures tend to backfire in wholly unexpected ways.

If I’m right, war is one of the ways cultures change rapidly and on a mass scale. (And not always for the better, mind. But always for the side that will survive better. which in a way is its own morality when it comes to a species.)

We don’t know and won’t unless we can look into parallel universes, what the world would be like if one or all of these wars hadn’t been fought.  Perhaps it would be better in some ways.  perhaps worse.

What we do know with absolute certainty is that if you convince a culture that there’s nothing in its territory/institutions worth dying for, you’ve just convinced it there’s nothing worth living for.

Look at Europe and its ever-diminishing children, or even rate of marriages.  (Yes, I know ours has bottomed also. But it’s a temporary effect of the culture being ordered to commit suicide to “defeat” a virus. When you can’t get a party of relatives together, weddings will be postponed. When you don’t know where the next meal comes from, you postpone having babies. Etc. It won’t stick. The idiots comparing unlocking to being ordered to advance in WWI into enemy fire, have it all backwards.  The suicidal move is NOT being allowed to work. It’s being commanded to lock down to escape a fantasy dreamed up by those who will never die from the actions they order. No one is demanding you go out and resume life. You’re free to die. We just don’t want you to take all the rest of us with you into misery and famine.  Yes, this madness compares to WWI, just not the way the left “feels” (They don’t think in any sense of the word.)) Look at their inability to believe in much, except of course that those Americans, across the ocean, are somehow inferior.

Why do men fight? For the same reason men fought since the beginning of time: to keep their food supply, their women and their children safe.  And in those countries where women join the armed forces, those that are worth a damn fight for much the same reason.

Not for high fallutin’ ideals, or philosophies. Not for the things the future will judge the combatants on, but for the immediate and clear perception of danger from the other side, which must be countered or lead to extinction.  “Those people over there will kill us or cause us to starve, unless a few (or many) brave men stand up to them.”

That’s it.  The white feather was sent to those who refused to join in WWI not because the women (yes, women) sending them felt that war was a material good, or they wanted men to die, but because they’d read the stories of Germans raping occupied towns, and raping and pillaging their way through convents, and they feared what would happen to them if Germans got hegemony of Europe and turned their eyes across the ocean.

The men who went to war went to war, largely to defend their women from such horrors.

Sure. Some were sane enough they deserted. And for some, it would have made no difference had they “fought” because their governments had been more blatant about sending them to commit suicide than the others.

Memorial day was not instituted because the victors suddenly thought that the Confederates had been jolly good fellows and fighting for the right reasons. If you go back, in fact, to the origins of the day, you find there were dueling memorial days for a while, and that each side talked of the atrocities the other committed and kept that memory alive.

Civil wars are horrible things.  I grew up with stories of the Portuguese one, received from Grandma who got them from her grandma, who probably got them from her grandma.  There is much fuzzying there, too, and I don’t know, these many years past which were of the civil war or which of the Napoleonic war.  I do know the war in Portugal, fought by rival claimants to the throne, one for absolute and one for Constitutional monarchy was much like the one fought in the US minus the component of slavery. Which clarifies things immensely.  The side of liberty (constitutional monarchy) won. It was also the side of industrialism, and the South (the side that supported industrialism, since they’re arid and their land sucks) plundered the North (the defeated) for centuries. Still does.  Also curiously, the North now is more industrial than the South.

Why does that clarify things immensely?  Because both wars, ultimately, were fought over new technology and how it changed the old ways, including bringing to the fore beliefs in the inherent value of the individual.

Go back and look at all the great wars and periods of upheaval. Everyone of them has its roots in some change in technology that completely modified the way humans live, day to day. It is no coincidence that in our day and age, we have a faction that wants to abolish technology as much as possible, because in their brutish, untrained minds that means getting rid of strife.

Of course that’s not the way that works. That’s not the way any of  that works abolishing knowledge and technology would only bring back older wars, already fought, and older ways of suffering.

The truth is each young man who was thrown into the maw of a terrible war, win or lose, good or bad, just or unjust fought to adapt humans better to changing conditions (some of those conditions being changed by the hands and minds of men) so that the future could happen.

They fought and died for their women, their children, their future.  And to an extent, they succeeded, all of them (sometimes after a horrible interval where truly disgusting ways prevailed.)  Because humanity is still here.

Bringing that in, closer, to the US only, where it is clearer, every young man who fought and died, since the revolutionary war, fought to bring to life that immortal poetry about the rights of the individual.

And if some were fighting as far as we can tell on the wrong side — or all were, if you squint — that is because some things only become clearer with time and distance, and when everyone who fought and everyone they fought for is long dead.  And sometimes, who knows, had they not fought it would have been even worse.

Salute those who gave the final measure.  Lay a wreath on their grave, if your local idiot doesn’t think cemeteries — outdoors, in the open — are a high risk of transmission.  Cry a tear for those who died for the wrong reasons, at the wrong time, and the future they will never have — even if they died before your grandfather was born.

They will remain forever young, forever a potential unrealized.

Pray that we never run our of young men willing to sacrifice for the land, the ideals and the people they love.  Because if we do, humanity might as well pack it in. We won’t last much longer.

And, despite everything, despite the fact that it becomes daily more obvious some among us are willing to destroy people and civilization, to the last human and the last brick, pray that this time passes us by without requiring the sacrifice of young men in senseless wars.  All wars are senseless. Some are just less senseless than what peace in those circumstances would have been. And cost fewer lives.

Give us peace in our day. But deliver us from evil.

 

 

A NOTE from the blog owner, Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike and Book Promo

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First a note from your friendly local Sarah (and I’m the only one.)
I’m still trying to come up with ways to make this blog take up less of my time without actually shutting it down.  I do need to concentrate my non-fiction writing on PJM, because that pays.  Also, to be fair, I need to step back from politics a bit, or I’ll never write fiction again.  Like Heinlein during WWII I’m considering delaying my news reading, perhaps in my case to the weekend, to avoid being driven mad by the insanity striding abroad in the world with its boots on.  (Yes, I do know this is difficult as an instapundit contributor.  Perhaps nights and weekends, with nights being mostly skimming the items you guys send me?

OTOH I love the community and don’t want to shutter the blog or isolate myself from you guys.

So, I’m considering articles only on Mondays, Wednesdays and … I don’t know.  I do the story on Fridays (and promise longer installments.)  Anyone have any idea what to do Tuesdays and Thursdays? Guest posts are unreliable. I could favor you with whatever I’ve been learning for fun that week (up to and including the history I’m taking in great courses) or news of the cats, or whatever, but I need some guidance.  I’m hoping younger son steps in and claims one of those days as his own for sharing his (often pungent) ideas on culture and its corruption, but this might not be a good idea while he’s looking for work.  Husband keeps threatening to, but then he gets completely lost in the mathematical stuff (statistics, pie charts, numbers. Dear lord.) he wants to share with you, and I never get a post.   So, I’m open to ideas.  Up to and including something I write, but which is short and sweet, like a poem (or poem translation) or a picture from somewhere or something I’ve loved.  Anyway, this is almost as much your home on the net as mine, so chime in- SAH

Book Promo

*Note these are books sent to us by readers/frequenters of this blog.  Our bringing them to your attention does not imply that we’ve read them and/or endorse them, unless we specifically say so.  As with all such purchases, we recommend you download a sample and make sure it’s to your taste.  If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. I ALSO WISH TO REMIND OUR READERS THAT IF THEY WANT TO TIP THE BLOGGER WITHOUT SPENDING EXTRA MONEY, CLICKING TO AMAZON THROUGH ONE OF THE BOOK LINKS ON THE RIGHT, WILL GIVE US SOME AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR PURCHASES MADE IN THE NEXT 24HOURS, OR UNTIL YOU CLICK ANOTHER ASSOCIATE’S LINK. PLEASE CONSIDER CLICKING THROUGH ONE OF THOSE LINKS BEFORE SEARCHING FOR THAT SHED, BIG SCREEN TV, GAMING COMPUTER OR CONSERVATORY YOU WISH TO BUY. That helps defray my time cost of about 2 hours a day on the blog, time probably better spent on fiction. ;)*

FROM J. L. CURTIS:  Rimworld- The Rift.

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Danny Ortega was a failure. He couldn’t tolerate the implant to be a starship captain…

But Danny Ortega has run his deep space research vessel Ghost alone for years, flaky AI and all, mapping the most unstable and unexplored regions of the Rift for the Cartographers Guild. When his latest mission lands in a mass graveyard of ships, including some ships out of legend, lost for hundreds of years, the guild isn’t happy with him.

He picks up a misfit crew out of the asteroids and the games begin!

Turns out he’ll need them not just for research and salvage, but to help him keep his ship! As word gets out that he has artifacts and is returning remains, Danny finds he’s gone from chasing a prize to becoming one himself…

Unfortunately for his enemies, Danny didn’t get his own ship by being an easy target or giving up. His odd connections and crew have plenty of surprises up their sleeves, too!

FROM MARY CATELLI:  The White Menagerie.

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In a court of decadence and intrigue, only Maya’s enchantments hold in check the snow-white creatures they keep in a menagerie to amuse themselves. But when Lady Tatiana arrives, and all must outdo themselves to win her support for the king, Lord Dariko is certain that she can hold in check a gryphon as well, and will hear no warnings of danger.

Her most careful watch and her most powerful spells might not save them — but nothing else will.

FROM DOROTHY GRANT: Going Ballistic.

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When her plane tries to come apart at apogee during a hijack, ballistic airline pilot Michelle Lauden handles the worst day she could imagine. After getting down without losing any passengers or crew, though, she finds her troubles have just begun!

The country she’s landed in has just declared independence from the Federation. The Feds intended her passengers to be the first casualties in the impending war – and they’re not happy she’s survived to contradict their official narrative in the news.

The local government wants to find her to give her a medal. The Feds are hunting her to give her an unmarked grave. As they both close in, Michelle’s running out of options and time. The only people able to protect her are an accident investigation team on loan from the Federation’s enemies… the same enemies who sent her hijackers in the first place.

And they have their own plans for her, and the country she’s in!

FROM KEN LIZZI:  Captain: Falchion’s Company Book Two.

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Running a mercenary company may be a bloody business, but it’s still a business. Falchion, now captain of his own outfit, faces not only opposing mercenary companies just as deadly as his own, and the magical threats posed by psychotic wizards, but also stingy, second-guessing employers. When his employers realize their allies in a three-party war are using them as a cat’s-paw and will likely turn on them, Falchion finds himself taking on two opposing armies, twin-sorceresses driven by religious fanaticism, and a mercenary commander holding a personal grudge.

FROM FRANK J. FLEMING: Superego: Fathom.

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There are two ways to be a hero.

One is more violent than the other. And the universe needs a hero, because a mysterious entity known as the Fathom is terrorizing the known universe and seizing control. But they’ve made one mistake: They woke Rico, the universe’s greatest killer, from a coma. And he’s decided he might be the good guy this time.

But being a hero isn’t easy. Rico has to work with others (not his favorite), and the impossible odds means it’s going to take an insane scheme or two (more to his liking). Still, Rico won’t let anything get in his way on his mission to destroy the Fathom… even though there are like a ton of things in his way — militaries, trained killers, a planet-devastating weapon or two.

Once again, it looks like Rico is going to destroy a lot of things and kill a lot of people.

But hopefully this time in a good way.

Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.

So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.

We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.

If you have questions, feel free to ask.

Your writing prompt this week is: DEFECTIVE