I’ll Be Away Most of the Day

So this is partly an excuse to do an open floor.

BUT as it happens, I also have links to share today.

First, I’m part of this giveaway.

Second:

(Yeah I know. They went and mentioned the movie, but anyway….)

I might have some images to share with you later, too.
Oh, and my editor says you need to order through a comic store…. but that you can ask for a particular cover.

OTOH someone in the comments had a link to buy the signed editions, I think? If someone did, please post again, and if I find an area with internet during the day I’ll add it.

Anyway, it’s late, and I’m going to bed, since we’re getting out early tomorrow.

Becoming Who You Are

One of the reasons that Jordan Peterson (hail lobster!) is revolutionary (and shouldn’t be, in a sane society) is that he understands we don’t live from good intentions and that words alone don’t change reality.

Yeah. Shouldn’t be. Because this is obvious. This is the wisdom of millennia, which is why most major religions encourage praxis (or require it) as well as faith and words. Faith love and charity, and while you might think of love as airy fairy fweeings you know d*mn well it’s supposed to be active love, showing love for others. (Agape, not eros.) And charity, well, its all action, if you’re doing it right.

But we got convinced, somehow — in my opinion by giving a disproportionate importance to academics and “very smart people” — that what you do doesn’t matter, and that words can change reality. The way popular perception ran off with quantum experiments didn’t help one wit.

It’s not that words have no influence. Jordan Peterson (HAIL Lobster) is right, in that you shouldn’t hang out with people who say words that demean and discourge you, and you should try not to do that to yourself too. But most of the words’ power is in our heads, not out int he real world. And we, ourselves, are a weird combination of body and brain, so that we’re susceptible to having our thoughts changed by words, but how much that changes our bodies varies, depending on how hard the change is and what it requires of you, and how well it meshes with the monkey body.

So, for instance, words can give you confidence before a bit trial, if they come from someone you respect. “You got this.”

If they come from you, it’s harder, because you know yourself too well to trust yourself. (Which honestly, just makes you normal.)

HOWEVER because you don’t trust yourself and you have a suspicion you’re just not right in the head or whatever, bad words from you can have a disproportionate strong effect, because of course you believe THOSE. I mean, you’re speaking against interest, so of course you believe it, right?

So, don’t tell yourself you’re a looser, or a no-goodnick, or that your diet is going to fail, or that your book is stupid. Because you’ll believe that and the back brain will direct actions accordingly.

In the same way, if you hang out withpeople who constantly undercut you, and if it’s repeated often enough, you’ll believe THEM and then sabotage yourself. So, don’t hang out with people who put you down. hang out with people who support you.

But that’s words influencing your brain which influences your actions.

However, what words can’t do is by themselves change the whole tenor of your character, because that’s habit as well as belief. They can’t change the laws of physics, so even if you believe you can fly, you’ll still splat. They can’t change biology, so if you’re sick and tell yourself you’re well, it ain’t gonna cure you. (TRUST me. The number of times I tried “mind over matter” and refused to go to the doctor. It doesn’t WORK.)

You’re also not going to change history by saying it wasn’t so. Yeah, sure, there was the occasional “person of color” in Europe in the middle ages. They tended to be treated somewhere between freaks and curiosities, but they were there, because people travel. That’s what people do. But they weren’t there, in any way shape or form in sufficient numbers to make a difference to history. Their very oddity cut them out of society. No matter how many obscure cases you find and keep insisting that the MASS of “people of color” was just suppressed, it ain’t gonna change history. It just wasn’t so. English people (and German people) thought people who could tan, like me or mine, as another race, and of black people as bizarre BECAUSE they weren’t used to them. There weren’t enough of them around. Therefore–

Exceptions don’t make the rule, and hunting exceptions doesn’t change history. And that goes double, with a dollop of pudding for Women Warriors, and the other cherished illusions you keep hoping to impose on reality by shouting and stomping your little hoofkins. That’s not how any of this works.

And you’re not going to change math by claiming it’s oppressive. You’re only going to make bridges fall and rockets blow up.

And — I must emphasize this — you’re most definitely not going to levitate the Denver Mint by the power of your mind.

So, push those out of your mind, and concentrate on what you can change, and part of what you can change — most of what you can change — is you.

To put it metaphorically, you can’t grow wings, but you can learn to fly planes. (Note YOU can. I have no desire to.) Or whatever it is you want to do.

And the genius of the commonplace that Peterson brings to bear is this: you change the words by changing the actions. And you start simple, and you form habits. (I have a book at my right hand about changing your habits to be better at producing words. I probably should you know read it, because the other thing that words can’t do is jump from the printed page into my head.)

And to change habits you start with small things.

Make your bed. Clean your room. If you can do it, and particularly if you can maintain it, you become someone who makes his bed (every day) and keeps his room clean, which since you see this place every day immediately makes you feel that you have SOME skills. And if you have some skills, there’s other things you can do (right?)

I mean, a person who makes his bed and cleans his room surely can extend that a little and take his meds on time. Make himself/herself healthy meals and eat them. And if you’re a person who can do all that, you can study for your exams and pass them. Or march your little butt out the door every morning, and look for a job till you find one. And certainly someone who can do all that, can also show up for work on time every day, and perform according to spec.

Next thing you know, you have a good job, are supporting yourself, have a family, and are a productive member of society instead of hunkering down in a corner working on your self esteem by telling yourself “but I’m really smart and I deserve!”

Because frankly, you know that you’re bullshit. A smart person wouldn’t need to say that.

A smart person does things.

Now, I’m not going to say any of this is easy. I’m trying to change my habits. I’m fighting the cursed book. I’m trying to re-establish a schedule which got nuked by moves and illness, but you know, we’re about to move again, and…. well. yeah. I fall. often. And I have days that are just flushed straight down the toilet.

That’s okay. Because it’s not what you are. If this were about who you are: “I’m good, I’m smart” then a bad day proves you’re not and ruins everything.

This is about becoming. That’s something you work at every day. And if you fall on your face, you dust yourself off and try again tomorrow.

At some point you’ll become someone who does whatever it is effortlessly. And then you can reach bigger roles. And if illness or whatever interrupts you, you work on becoming again.

Because what you do teaches you what you can be, and teaches you the self esteem that all the pointless praise can’t and won’t teach. (All it teaches is conceit.)

So, while I’m washing and drying clothes to pack, to go off for a week and try to find a landing place, you go forth and work on becoming what you want to be.

You might not be good enough to do what you want to — yet– but you can become good enough. If you build yourself into someone who can do that, one step at a time.

Now go do it.

Hail Lobster ;)

But With A Whimper

In one of his world’s Clifford Simak had a near depopulated Earth, in which each human remaining had retreated to his country estate and lived like an English gentleman of the golden era, attended by android servants.

When I was little, lying in bed, reading these books, after the daily Malthusian sermon at school, this place and time seemed very desirable. (To be fair it still does. That’s the appeal of a certain type of escapist novel, and why people keep reading them and writing them. I mean, look, which of us given the choice wouldn’t live at Manderley or Pemberley as lord or lady of the manor, if it came staffed with androids, to whom we owed no real responsibility, and had all modern conveniences?) Sure, every man a Lord, every woman a lady, but more importantly the kind of life that instinctively appeals to those of us who grew up in places with deep history: generations, living in one house. Growing old watching ones grandkids play in the same fields we played in (which are not covered by concrete) and then lying at rest besides the graves of one’s ancestors.

Even those of us who chose — of our own volition — a much different path, and have as restless feet as cats who never had them rubbed with butter, feel a certain atavistic appeal to that kind of dream.

For a long time, I held on to that dream, that thought. If somehow the Earth’s human population went down — in Simak’s case it was through going to space — then we could have that. Well, given a bit more development in robots, and the creation of android-like ones. (Because if you don’t have enough humans around, then having robots that look like humans is important. We are creatures of the band.)

In fact, I pretty much grew up believing all the crap they taught us in school. The Earth was over populated. We were destroying what was needed for a stable Earth environment, because there were so many of us. We were going to freeze! After we were nuked till we glowed. Oh, and oil was running out. So the post-apocalyptic world would be very cold and very limited. And all of it. I even believed in global warming, briefly, in the late eighties, because well, it was Scientific American (stop laughing) and they wouldn’t publish crazy non-scientific stuff. Maybe they had calculated wrong, when they espected the ice age.

When I was 29 someone sent me an issue of Reason. Well, actually a six month (?) subscription to Reason, which was back then much better, under the admirable direction of Virginia Postrel. I remember clearly when I got the first issue, because it was such a pivot point in my life. We were living in a rented house in Columbia, South Carolina, while getting our house in Charlotte ready to sell on weekends. We had three cars but usually only one working car at a time (yes, like that) and my husband worked way too much. But on Friday night, he picked me and #1son, who was just walking, from the house in Columbia, and we drove to Charlotte, to work on the other house. (Paint, clean up, re-flooring. The usual.)

That day we went outside, and to the mailbox, then came back and I sat down on the steps, blocking the exit from the large iron-railing enclosed space. This was great, because there was nothing there to hurt the kid. I mean he could throw the rug around and/or knock on the door but that was it. So I had time to read this magazine I had just gotten.

A year later, when we were living in a downtown apartment in Colorado Springs, I was still reading Reason and still re-adjusting my perceptions of the world. Until one day the monstrous but liberating hypothesis penetrated my brain: What if everything they taught me to believe about the excess of humanity, the inevitable depletion of oil, the bad effects humans have on the planet is a lie?

I didn’t tell anyone. DUH. I know what happens when you dye a monkey pink and put it in the middle of the band. Heck, I don’t think I told my husband about it.

And then, of course, we got the net. Well, we had it at the time, but it was all um… limited to the network you were on, and Dan refused to get AOL for the same reason he doesn’t like adobe products. Prejudice of someone who works in the field.

So, I first read the Colorado Springs library dry. Mostly non-fic tbh. Mysteries I bought in Denver’s mystery bookstore, three huge bags, twice or three times a year. But I always read a ton of non-fiction, and it’s more predicated on what I stumble on, and whatever grabs me right then than any reasonable or sane plan. In those days, in addition to what was available to borrow, we also attended every library sale we could find, and I would by whatever my latest obsession was. (We get rid of 2/3 of our books every time we move, then they come back.) I still do the same online, where I will pursue a rabbit hole and read a subject dry.

Then we moved to Manitou Springs, where the library is far more limited but — ahah — since husband worked for MCI we got some kind of deal on dial up internet. I honestly don’t remember. It’s possible it was unmetered in some way. What I know is my writer friends came to my house to look up things on line, and I became a minor goddling of search engines.

The kids were small (#2 son was one when we moved there) and while I wrote, I mostly wrote while the kid and later kids were in school. Because it’s really hard to write when WWIII breaks out at your feet on the floor, over THAT lego piece both want. But it’s perfectly fine to jump around on the net, reading about whatever caught your attention.

And then there was Amazon and I could buy books to feed whatever the elephant child got obsessed with.

At some point in the late nineties, I started to getting the nagging feeling that while most of what we’d been fed was a lie, the “population bomb” was a particularly eggregious lie.

Going back, I looked at things like claims that while I was growing up Portugal had an average 5 children per woman of child bearing age. Look, not unless one woman in a hundred were kept in an underground chamber having nine children at once for her entire life. Not just her entire reproductive lie, her entire life. While Portugal wasn’t as …. child-scarce as it is now, it was still rare, for my generation — as opposed to mom’s and dad’s — to have more than two. Or for educated people to have more than one. And by educated read “has enough schooling to work a white collar job.” To that joined the aristocracy of blue collar: people who owned shops, or factories, or repair concerns, or who were simply very skilled and/or well paid in blue collar professions. They also rarely had more than the one precious child.

Then I poked around at other places.

Um…. you don’t know my methods, because to be honest I don’t know them myself. My brain works in weird lurches and pivots. Yes, that’s how I get books, but it’s also how I get…. everything.

My brain is an indiscriminate cement mixer. Unless I’m in the grip of one of my (rare but usually persistent) obsessions, which usually means a book is gestating at a level I’m not aware of, during which time I read only one subject or maybe two. (Marian apparitions: real, fake, and uh… that is just wrong and probably false flag took over my brain for two months, which is how we got Deep Pink.) When I’m not running under a “craving of the mind” I read pretty much whatever. Including college books on economics, or biology, or whatever.

And then out of the mess ideas form about how things work, or why such and such an event went this way.

The weird thing is, as opposed to things I think through carefully, using my reason, these sudden “certainties” are almost always right. I say almost always because some might yet prove wrong. I just haven’t talked about some of them yet. To anyone.

More often than not, when I get one of these and talk to experts in the field, they look at me and go “Of course, this is known.” Well, yeah…

The population thing was so bizarre, I did talk. First to a fellow writer who told me I was crazy. She knew that population was growing, because her native city had grown over fields and meadows.

Never could convince her that we have different ideas in lodging than our grandparents did, which take more space; that there has been a move to the cities starting about oh…. 1920 in the US? Maybe earlier. And since agriculture takes fewer and fewer people to work at it, we have more and more people moving away from ancestral farms. Also the US is a country of immigrants, but that’s something else entirely and we’ll touch on it later.

The place I grew up is also, now, a suburb of the nearest largest city — Porto — and the fields and meadows where I played while grandmother gathered grass for the rabbits are either under a high way or a stack-a-prol block of apartments. It’s one or the other.

But does that betoken larger population for the country as a whole? Well, from the seventies on, Portugal became a little like Florida for the Brits. Definitely since the EU. It also took in a lot of Eastern Block refugees (they drove those Trabants as far as they could, and since Portugal ends in the sea…). And a lot of Chinese escaped Macau.

But with all that, yeah, the places near the big cities have exploded.

However, if you ever visit, drive to the mountains. Do. They’re not very big mountains. Jumped-up hills, but pretty. And if you get there, spend some time just LISTENING. There’s nothing. No sound, nothing. That sense of vast unoccupied spaces.

By the nineties, land in the remote parts of Portugal was cheap, and a lot of ancestral farms were empty and crumbling. So were farms and entire cities in Kansas. Starting at the same time, people started sounding the alarm about this, and asking how to repopulate the hinterlands.

And I was sure then. Sure that the population might be becoming more urban, acquiring different habits, etc. But it was not in point of fact growing at anywhere near the numbers that showed on paper.

Deep dives on the internet showed we have one of the most reliable census processes and — snort, giggle — you know what a sh*tshow it is, particularly since the Clintons when they decided to add a random number to cities, because of people were “uncounted.” (Those shy, shy homeless people.)

In most other countries, even the Portugal I grew up in, any count by the government becomes a chance to mess with the government.

So, for instance, when I was little you had to — probably still do — pay a license for radios (and TVs but there were only two in the village) every year. And there was a radio/tv inspector (I SWEAR I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP) who came to the village once a year, to make sure we had proper licenses for all our receivers.

As soon as he showed his nose at the entrance to the village (there was only one entrance if you came by bus from the city, and he did) word went out. Grandmas hurried out on unavoidable errands. Kiddies were sent to visit the neighbors.

Before he reached the old cross, at the entrance of the village proper, the whole village knew, and were rushing home, to hide the multiple radios. I mean our family had three. I don’t think we paid license for any. Grandma had maybe two maybe three (I don’t remember if grandad had one in the workshop, but I think he might, in which case it was three, and if cousin had one to listen to music four. I just don’t remember) , but she paid license for the old one (it was cheaper) and since it was a large radio, on a shelf over the kitchen table, with a doily under it, it was kind of hard to hide.

Anyway, I think in the end the government KNEW there were like one radio per ten households in the city, and probably the only TV counted was the one in the coffee shop (again, hard to hide.) Very bucolic and backwards was the village, in government documents. Probably still is as mom who wavers between being addicted to Brazilian soap operas and being addicted to PBS style programs on history and such, has her TV dish in the attic. Under the roof. (No, I don’t know how it works, but I assume that there’s some special arrangement on a portion of the roof, or possibly the dish is different, because, well, it’s Portugal. The rapidity with which my DIL’s dad, who was there for four days, learned to say “Forget it Jack, it’s Portugal” was gratifying.)

The same sort of games went on with censuses, particularly if a census worker came through personally. Look, all children might not look alike, but if you change their clothes, and they’re playing in a big bunch, do you know you saw them at another house before? And you know, the government pays support every month for every kid whose parents are below a certain threshold in income.

And I suspect that when the papers hit the desk of some bureaucrat the same happens again, only more bloodless and with pen and paper. Because Portugal is, technically speaking, a welfare mother. I.e. it gets payments, per capita, from better off countries, as part of the global redistribution shell game whereby those who don’t work as hard and squander what they make are entitled to the income of those who make more. (And that’s a discussion for another time, but seriously. I know the left looks at the relative poverty of the third world, and the wealth of the west and thinks that’s because we stole from them. This is akin to thinking I stole my house from a homeless man on crack. Some of the richest-in-resources countries in the world are the poorest. No one stole their resources. They’re still there. But they have toxic cultures that prevent their use. And then we taught them — G-d forgive us — Marxism, which makes it impossible for them to correct the problem.) Anyway, Portugal used to suck IMF teat, and now sucks EU teat (to be fair, Germany wanted Europe, they deserve it.) And the more people you have, the more the teat produces. Even if half of these people are imaginary.

Oh, and Portugal when I was growing up was AT LEAST a second world country. Maybe first and a half. (Yes, I know that’s not what that meant, but it conveys the idea.) What I mean is, even now, it’s the place Brazilians studying engineering in the US (and there’s a lot of them) dream of going to work. And back then it had antibiotics, and TV and trains, and it wasn’t excessively tribal. Oh, it also had industry. So it’s not some completely backwards place.

I want you to stop and take a deep breath. Look at the countries that claim their population is still growing by leaps and bounds: they’re all net recipients of international aid. Every one of them.

Maybe not in money, as far as the Arab countries are concerned, but in immigration visas, opportunities for education, etc.

Now, another deep breath, because we’re in deep heresy here: look at those countries. Do you really think countries in Africa or even the Middle East (with the exception of Israel) or the Indian subcontinent do a proper census? As in mail forms to every household to be filled? Or send people out, briefcase in hand?

If you think so, you’re suffering from cultural provincialism. In most of those countries there MIGHT be a census bureau. Opportunity to employ relatives, yo. But that’s about it. At the time to send the yearly graft to the US, they look around and go, my mom has three kids, call it eight. My wife has one, call it five. UN we have starving millions. IMF save us!”

But, you’ll say, (and people said the last time I wrote on this topic, which I revisit periodically), what about all the immigrants from Africa and the Arab countries to the West? Doesn’t that prove their population is exploding?

No more than the growth of cities. BTW I’m not the only to say this, though I can’t now find the article about how the population is falling off a cliff in Arab countries, because…. well…. women poked at the internet and discovered the rhythm method. No. I kid you not. Turns out when you’re effectively enslaved you might not want to have a passel of kids for your owner.

The problem being, because of the polygamic system and the culture, and– Arab countries can’t really provide for their population or at least not at modern levels. So. It’s compounded of other things: most things are. There’s also the fact that the West is Welfare land giving you money for nothing and your chicks for free, and the fact that Islamic culture has deep-set mythos of world conquest/re-conquest that impels people to make them come true.

I will bet you money though every one of those immigrants to the west is still being counted at their place of origin, too. Because it is the same with emigrants in Portugal, or was when I was growing up. You report the absent child, first, because they can collect unemployment (seriously? You didn’t see that coming?) second because they can come back and resume their lives at any moment. Even those who insist they won’t, the family tends to keep a candle lit for.

So, since the late nineties, I’ve been convinced that the world population was not only not growing (even with the added longevity of modern medicine) but was already headed down down dubeedoo. And that at some point it would become impossible to recover.

Things trickled to me, but from unverifiable sources. Mostly people who were translators for globe trotting NGOs.

Such as that Mexico City, for one, doesn’t have the water needed for the claimed population. Hell, not for half the claimed population. And no, we’re not talking at American levels of water use. Just enough for everyone not to die, if they also drank beer and wine. And in Africa it’s even more so, with the cities having to be by the mathematical inevitability of supply and needed resources to live, no more than between a third and a tenth their reported population.

And then I noticed other stuff: For instance, Heinlein spotted that the USSR couldn’t possibly have the population it claimed, even if the CIA bought the spit-out-numbers hook line and sinker. When the USSR fell, we realized that hell yeah, it couldn’t have the population it claimed, and the numbers were revised down. But the global population numbers weren’t.

Things that weren’t reported, like when Dave Freer told me Africa had a massive number of orphans, because a ton of people died of AIDS which for cultural reasons went beyond the gay community (if there is one, which I doubt) there. But were those people counted as dead? Their reproductive life taken in account as shortened? Um…. no.

In face, though recently they started revising the growth projections down, officialdom never revised THE POPULATION totals down, even when it was obvious they had miscounted.

Yesterday we got an announcement that China is in probably irretrievable population collapse. Is it real or memorex?

I don’t know. Totalitarians wouldn’t want to admit to a falling population. OTOH I very much doubt totalitarian regimes have ANY accurate information, including number of people or children. On the third hand (I write science fiction. Also shush) it makes sense of their economy and society, and stuff that leaks out now and then. Oh, and the fact they’re a crazy dictatorship works on population like the fact that Muslim women are second class citizens. Slaves don’t like having children for their masters.

So, here we are. This post was brought about by the fact that I have, since the early two thousands thought that falling population, HEAVILY weighted to the older ranges was the only way to explain the strange gyrations of the world economy. And why we haven’t crashed hard yet, despite a number of democrats running with printing press. And yesterday BGE who knows more about economics than I do mentioned the same in the comments, and that the pressure is — therefore, and it would be in a falling-like-a-rock population scenario — DEflationary.

This makes perfect sense of Western governments obsession with Mo’e money given out. And spending on the craziest shit.

Yes, I know, it more or less always does, but listen to me, the way they’ve been going would cause a total collapse, and they can’t be completely stupid. Stupid, yes, but not that stupid. Unless they’re desperately trying to keep the fiat currencies from fatally deflating with a bang at the same time the world spirals into depression.

Supposing they’ve realized what is really happening, and I suspect they have because: open borders. I knew because it was a more or less open secret in Europe that this was the reason Germany was importing Muslims faster than you could say “we both hate the Jews. Join with us.”

Part of the issue with that, of course, is that the left — most of the immigration schemes are left, though not all — thinks that humans are interchangeable widgets. Take a Muslim immigrant, bring him to Sweden and he’ll be a Swede.

Replacing the population for the votes? Sure. But….. hey, Europe voted socialist anyway, so what would possess them? Well, a fatal lack of people. And stupidity. We can’t forget stupidity.

Same here, where yeah, they think people who can tan vote dem, but beyond that, I think they’re sniffing the air and realizing the population is falling. And they’re stupid. So, you know, someone who’s never seen a toilet from a village in the Andes, can move to NYC, take welfare, never work, and their kids will be stock brokers. (They missed something in that process. It’s called assimilation. And that it doesn’t happen during mass migration, no matter how enforced. And it isn’t now.)

You see, modern civilization, with welfare, and the great society — rinses mouth with soap — DEPENDS on each generation being bigger than the last. Not just for welfare, but to keep the fiat currencies inflating slightly, to keep houses valuing, to keep the things we take for granted happening.

When the next generation is smaller and then smaller again…. we’re in uncharted waters.

Add to this questions no one has bothered asking, like “What minimum amount of population do you need to retain a tech civilization?” because you know, it takes a particular kind of mind (and now I wonder if that’s why they’re watering down STEM.) And “how fast can we reorganize economic and social life, so civilization isn’t wiped out?” And others, I’m sure you can think of yourselves.

BUT SARAH, you say, the elite is also still preaching the population bomb, and pushing women to work outside the house, and–

Oh, sure. If anyone has awareness of the real trouble, it would be at the highest levels, and justifications found for the drones.

But living through the covidiocy has given me some insight into how this works: you see, big government made a big blunder when it was fresh and new and shining with paint, when the boomers were little.

They believed prophets and soothsayers, and continued believing them when their lies and prognostications got crazier.

Ancient regimes used to stone soothsayers. Now we let them stone themselves, ramble Marxistly, and we believe them. Paul Ehrlich, when civilization collapses, the fingerprints on its collapse will be yours.

Paul Ehrlich is the most egregious, but there were thousands of them all through the late twentieth century. And the idiot politicians and bureaucrats BELIEVED their bullshit without checking. (I don’t think they caught on till the collapse of 06, and probably most still don’t know or believe.)

And they did what they did with the Covidiocy. Propaganda was blasted at the masses, in an effort to get them to behave “properly” — that is how the elite thinks they should — “TOO MANY PEOPLE, YOU ARE KILLING THE EARTH, SCARCITY EVERYTHING. REEEEEEEEEEEE.”

Well, people were behaving according to the real signals around them, like we were around March 2020. And then the propaganda wave hit, relentless. And suddenly even a little girl in a completely non populated village in Portugal believed that the world had too many people and we were going to run out of everything and ahhhhhhh!

And the population plunged. Hard. Yes, there were other factors that would probably have taken it down anyway: women in the work force means late marriage age which means fewer kids, for instance. And other stuff. But the fact governments believed the bullshit and started penalizing having kids didn’t help.

We probably would have a minor correction without this craziness.

And now, now that they’re starting to get the feel for the trouble we’re in? They’re terrified the people will catch on, terrified to admit it. JUST LIKE WITH THE COVIDIOCY.

Instead they’re hoping to keep the top spinning till they exit stage left, and apres moi le delluge.

Possibly the only way to return the population to numbers that will give us time to adjust to the idea that each generation won’t grow exponentially, and to prepare for whatever THAT economy will look like (Not big government blue, for sure) would be for government and the press (but I repeat myself) to pivot on that mass insanity now and start encouraging people to have more kids by every means available, including putting research money into reproductive technologies, and perhaps subsidizing infertility treatments, up to surrogacy for a short time.

What they’re actually doing is spinning as fast as they can, WHILE a portion of them tries to prepare us for extinction will bullshit like the Green New Deal which is all about leaving the Earth pristine when we self flush.

They’ll pivot. In ten years or so. If I’m still alive, I’ll see commercials about a woman’s duty to have one or two children out of wedlock (and put them up for adoption, send them to be raised in creches, or giving them to parents to raise) before going off to school and a career and eventual marriage and legitimate children. They’ll say you should be pregnant by your Junior year in high school because it’s good for you (possibly true, given modern medicine) and your nation needs your babies. (Yes, I know it’s insane, but I also know it will happen. Ten, twenty years at most.)

By then it will probably be WAY too late to prevent a hard crash of most industrial economies. And we won’t have the time to retool for what comes next.

So, what do you do? I don’t know. Look, I could be wrong, though not as wrong as Ehrlich. Maybe we have just enough time. If you can, consider having kids. Consider having three kids if you can.

If you’re a woman in your late twenties and you haven’t found the right guy? Consider having some eggs frozen. Or maybe an ovary. Yes, I know it’s expensive, but honestly, we need to start crowdfunding this stuff. And I’ll help if I can. And no it’s not guaranteed you can conceive by those means, but at least you’ll have a chance.

I’m not you. I can’t speak to your religious or ethical restraints, but in the absence of those, look for all available means to have kids, and again crowd fund if needed (we should have charitable organizations for this purpose.)

Have another kid. Have two. Have three. Consider if you can have more.

Because the likely result of the path we’re on is not a family living on an estate with androids doing all the hard work, and visiting other estates in pomp and circumstance.

I’m afraid if we don’t turn this boat around — without and against our institutions’ strenuous bullshit — the end result is a lone savage, clad in the rags of civilization walking the Earth trying to find a mate, or even a friend.

And possibly still wearing a mask.

Understanding and Misunderstanding Freedom- By Professor Ornery Dragon

Understanding and Misunderstanding Freedom

By Professor Ornery Dragon

The other day a friend on FB posted a meme/captured Twitter thread about a woman who had been through the wringer with a medical issue that tragically claimed the life of her small child. The rant was about how the insurance company reneged on paying after they received a settlement, how the hospital immediately put a lien on her house to insure she’d pay the PICU bill, and how in the end, they got nothing and had to deal with all sorts of crap while mourning their son. It sounded horrible.

As I read through it, I had my doubts about some aspects of the story, but whatever. It wasn’t designed to be accurate, it was designed to hit you in the feels and make the reader angry at the injustice of the American insurance/health/medical industry. And it worked on my friend and those who responded to the post.

The friend who posted it lives in the UK. Another friend of his commented that she was soooo happy to live in the UK with the NHS. My friend said (paraphrasing): yeah, I have to laugh at Americans who always go on about freedom. He then went on about how Americans pay about the same in taxes but get nothing for it. He ended with “No health care. No job protection. No state support. Americans are free to starve, free to lose their homes, free to die in debt and penury. They are free in theory, but not in practice.”

I choked on that. Among many other things, that statement completely ignores the base level of care available via the NHS or the quality of council (subsidized) housing, or the unintended consequences of job protection, and the moral hazard of state support.

Remember the story a couple of years ago where NHS refused to allow parents to take their sick, dying child (https://thenewamerican.com/u-k-denies-treatment-to-baby-won-t-let-parents-take-him-to-u-s/) to New York for experimental treatment that might possibly have saved his life. The state decided it knew better than parents what should be done for their child. The child died. How the hell does a government get the ability and power to prevent parents from making critical decisions regarding their child’s health?? Is that what the freedom of “state support” means? How is that freedom? Freedom to or from what?

No job protection…that cuts the other way as well. Ever worked with someone who is useless? But can’t be fired? I have. Guy spent the day running sports betting pools (against company regs), never did any work, but the union said he couldn’t be fired because he had seniority. Job protection for him, sure. But what about everybody else? What about those employees downstream from him? What about the employer who was dropping money into a black hole? They couldn’t hire somebody more productive to replace that guy. (They got bought out by the competition just a couple years later. Go figure.)

Free to starve, lose their homes, die in debt and penury… If one is completely dependent on the state for housing, income, and health care…how is that not penury? You are not contributing to the system, you are completely in debt to it. And depending on how it’s structured, you may never be able to leave that system. That’s freedom from penury?

I love my friend, but he clearly DOES NOT understand how freedom really works or what it really means. Of course, it does mean different things for different people, and yes, freedom itself can be relative to what one experienced before. For example: Russians find the ability to travel without state permission to be incredibly free. But, as an American, I have a very American view of freedom that I don’t think my friend understands. And, as an extension, I think he’s not allowing himself to experience true freedom. In other words, the freedom to succeed or fail on his own merits. Under the structure that he prefers, citizens are NOT free from the state. In fact they are beholden to the state and subject to its whims. I think he misunderstands the concept of freedom.

It is understandable, though, why European citizens would view freedom in this way. The political and social structures of Europe have historically been top down. Russia is especially easy to explain…they’ve always had an autocratic system whether it was headed by a tsar, a General Secretary of the Politburo, or Vladimir Putin. Nothing has changed politically in Russia for centuries. Their view of freedom is likely much narrower than ours.

But what about the rest of Europe? They were all monarchies as well – all top-down governing systems. A long history of monarchies tends to instill a cultural understanding of the “proper” role of government. Monarchs were supposed to look out for the welfare of their kingdoms and that meant the well-being of their subjects as well (for various definitions of “well-being”). Therefore, those outside of aristocratic social levels learned that the monarch and the aristocracy took care of the lower classes, merchants, artisans, and peasants. Rewards came from the monarch or his/her representatives. For example, the patronage system for artists meant that in order to be a “working” artist you needed the support of one of your social and economic betters. That has translated into state support for artists. But the patron/state can remove that support if the artist does something they don’t like. The artist is constrained, and without true freedom to create.

Freedom, to me, means relief from those sorts of expectations. I’ll figure out what situation works best for me, thank you very much. Yeah, my decisions could mean I die alone, in debt, sharing food with the cat (somebody please take care of the cat if that happens). And, yeah, that’s a worry. On the other hand, I can see that the state is in no small part responsible for making it more difficult for me to move myself as far away as possible from that scenario. We just dealt with our taxes. There’s a big way the state makes it difficult to take care of oneself.

I want the freedom to make both good and bad decisions. I want the freedom to work without a net if that’s what I choose (I left a tenured position to write fiction on a full-time basis. Look Ma! No net!) I want the freedom to live where I choose, and not in required housing. I want the freedom to take risks…or not. I want freedom from government interference.

Europeans, and the American left, define freedom as “chaos” and that worries them. Who will control the chaos? Bring in the state! Big Brother will provide for all and watch over you.

Americans define freedom as a “choose your own story” adventure and that energizes us. And if there’s a little chaos along the way, well, that’s fun too.

So head out and choose your own story!

Habitually

This is not a post about writing (except insofar as it is my work.) even if it seems to be so at first.

Over the last twenty years I’ve mentored maybe 30 people. Now the quality of mentoring went to heck 10 years ago, because of life. But usually I try to read at least a few pieces by people I mentor, and try to figure out what is holding them back. Because that’s what mentors do.

When I was younger and took raw newbies, one of the hardest things to get them to see — and something that drove me nuts because I struggled with it myself, back in pre-history — is that you can’t have character in solitude, aside and apart from plot.

Sure, I said I get characters for free — a lot of newbies do — but that means I know who they are, how they talk, their strengths and weaknesses; their fears; their sore spots.

That’s great so long as I want to have imaginary friends I take out when I’m alone to play with. But if I’m writing a book with these characters, I have to give them something to do.

What I first wrote (though perhaps not that bad, because ADD, and I bore easily) and what these people are writing is this: Peter the Paladin gets up in the morning and shaves. Then he exercises his horse, goes for a walk where people cheer him for his outstanding courage. Comes home where his wife tells him she loves his unwavering morals. Goes to the palace to get a commendation for his bravery.

Well, good for Peter, but I was yawning while his wife was praising. And that’s not in any way a story. And why are all these people saying things for which there is no evidence whatsoever?

Because, of course, for Peter to prove he’s a Paladin, and to make him interesting at all, he must do the work of a paladin. He must get up off his exquisite chair given to him by Sir Grateful in gratitude for saving his daughter from the Dread Dragon and do something to prove he still deserves the chair. Or at least we must see him fighting the dread dragon.

Okay, so how is this not about writing. It’s not, because it’s about us, and the times we live in.

In a private group, a friend who has sudden piercing insights asked how it would affect society that we took people out of work for a year, smashed their routine with a hammer and set them adrift.

I immediately panicked, because I have reason to have extra insight into this kind of situation.

Look, much sh*t has been talked about millenials. Don’t wind younger son up. We’ve had screaming arguments with me defending millenials while he condemns them. I won’t say I don’t get it, because part of it was going through public school in a high-left area.

I will say though that from the things no one talks about, like the real voting pattern, not the one ascribed to them, the people I meet on the street and coming to my house to do work, and a million other little things, they were shaping up d*mn nicely. Or as I express it “the kids are all right.”

The point being that if you come out of the continuous indoctrination factory and face the real world, in a halfway healthy nation and economy, you’re going to lose a lot of the indoctrination. The ones that don’t are usually the wealthy ones (it’s no accident the most strident lefties are pampered females) or those who are too smart to think their way to reality.

BUT…. 2020.

I do have some special insight into this, because in the mid seventies the Portuguese economy went…. odd. I won’t say it was wonderful before — hey, it was national socialist and all socialism kills. Fast or slow — but it was predictable.

In the mid seventies it became completely unpredictable, with the government arrogating to itself the right to promulgate rules for prices, salaries, and how many bottles of oil you could own. (Frying oil. It’s a precious commodity in a Latin country, particularly one were natural gas — the main fuel for cooking — is going through the roof, so baking is a rare and precious luxury.) And hyperinflation struck.

Remember I was a kid. My range of interests was even more limited than other kids, because mostly I read. So how hyper was the inflation? Well, science fiction paperbacks went from the equivalent (look, I don’t remember the prices in escudos anymore) of maybe $2.50 to $200 in a period of six/seven years. No, the prices weren’t in dollar, and the exchange rate wasn’t that. But if you visualize an asset taking that kind of hike (yes, I’m afraid it will be all too easy in five years) you can see what I mean by hyperinflation.

Which brings us to…. uncertainty. In that climate, who the heck is going to start a business, when any minute the government could regulate you out of existence and/or your need for materials/machinery might hit at the wrong time in the cycle and strip you of all your capital?

So, while a brave souls did start or continue jobs, there were very few new jobs, and a lot of companies/factories/etc shut their doors.

This means a generation (the one before me) left school and found themselves adrift, sometimes for years, before they could find a job. (Incidentally this is one of the reasons — not the only — I ended up in languages and teaching, despite a complete and utter lack of interest in the actual work. I’d seen what prolonged unemployment did to people. I figured that as Portugal opened to the world, and started to recover from the hammer to the gears, languages would pay well (they did) but until then, or if things went pear shaped again, I could teach, because there were always jobs for teachers. Yes, my dears, when you make plans, G-d laughs.)

Now a lot of people started businesses of some kind, and whether they were flipping houses, starting crops on abandoned fields to sell on the black market, or making crafts to sell on the black market (the black market or at least grey was everywhere. Either you knew someone, or people set up stalls on the street corners that were foldable into a bag, so they could run away when the police showed up. My first independent purchases, be it for gifts or for myself were from such people, usually selling groceries, clothes, and seriously IP violating books.)

I daresay those people were okay long term. Well, maybe not, because the work is…. different. But looking back there was an explosion of creativity and artistry among young people, and I bet a lot of them are fine.

OTOH a lot of them had no interest in arts and crafts and couldn’t do much. Oh, there was a lot of teaching/tutoring/ doing this one job “under the table.” But nothing regular or sustained.

I know several people who went through that later situation. And the ones who were excellent workers, dedicated, driven, emerged from the experience curiously maimed. (For the others you couldn’t tell.) In the end, when jobs came back, they did the minimum necessary, because the habits of their time out of work had shaped them. And most of them never went anywhere.

Now this is nowhere near the level of — pardon me — f*ckery the country just endured (the world, actually.)

Look, it’s closer to what happened to me. I used to do six books a year, without much trouble, while tutoring my younger son in one year. And then–

My health went South.

The amazing thing is how fast you lose habits that enforce productivity.

None of us likes working. Well, no. That’s not precisely true. I love my job, and I enjoy working. The problem is that I don’t enjoy working productively EVERY DAY. Sometimes — say twice a year — an idea strikes, and I will wake up from bed and write something, from 2k to 30k words, at one go. And that’s great. But one doesn’t make a living that way. Nice, hobby you’ve got there…

Getting up, rain or shine, brain fog or worry about a kid, a friend or a pet, and sitting down and writing is difficult. Okay, not as difficult as dancing on a broken ankle, or going to work in the sleet and the rain with chest congestion and worry about the bills. I’m not making myself a victim or a martyr. I’m quite aware I have it easy.

My biggest difficulty is grabbing myself by the ear and making myself produce words. And since my work habits were hit with a hammer twice — first by health, then by a very complex move — it’s been hard, bordering on the impossible. Not the writing itself, but sitting down to write. On time. And producing the required words.

Guys, the me from fifteen years ago, despises the me now, and wants to kick her butt.

But a habit that’s broken is very hard to get back, just like a muscle that withers has trouble getting back. (And sometimes can’t.)

And we just put people in enforced idleness for a year and change. They’ll go back to work when they need to, but will their productivity ever be what it was?

My experience suggests not. You see, productivity is an habit, too.

I’ve told here, half in jest, about how I started taking a laptop on our big glitzy weekend vacations. (It’s a joke, folks. While raising the kids, our great vacations were two and a half days in Denver — we lived in Manitou and then in Colorado Springs — where we haunted museums and Greek diners and painted the town a mild pink. If we were lucky, we had three and a half days. I still remember those.) My husband, understandably had a “don’t work while on vacation” rule, made all the more important as at the time I was either not getting paid, or I was getting paid peanuts. And working like a madwoman. So, of course “leave the laptop at home on vacation.”

The problem is I had an habit. Only slightly less demanding than the reading habit. You see, when the younger kid was in school (his being the important one because pre-school was only 3 hours) I sat my butt on the chair and wrote. Produced pages and pages of words.

Then when they came home, I was mommy. Though I might be plotting the next scene in my head.

(Some of my most productive years, btw.)

Saturdays were different only in that our writers’ group met at my house at 3. And our writers’ group was composed of insane people. At least in 95, we decided that novel or no novel in progress, to remain a member in good standing you had to bring in a short story a week.

Well, I normally didn’t do that during the week. Because I was doing novels. So, on Saturday, I cleaned 1800 sq feet in a couple of hours (took that long because kiddies) and then sat at my computer and pounded out a 2k to 6k story in an hour or three. Did spell check, and threw it at the group. (It’s amazing how many of those, de-typoed, sold.)

The problem while on vacation, is that characters and ideas for shorts showed up right on time either Friday night or Saturday morning. I wrote many a story on hotel note pads, napkins and even toilet paper. (Started novels, too, because my brain has no sense of proportion.) Until Dan sighed and told me I could bring the laptop. Which I MOSTLY used to pound out a story before they woke up on Saturday.

I no longer get the story of the week. (Which might be a habit worth getting back, as it would improve my numbers greatly.) In fact, I’ve limited the short story invites I accept, because writing a short can take me the better part of a week, as I’m no longer in the habit.

It’s not that I don’t try. It’s that I’m no longer used to sit at the keyboard and concentrate. And trust me, it’s a matter of habit.

The monasteries of old, being communal living amid people raised in more violent environments that most of us, kept the whole thing harnessed tight with habit. “At this house you do this. At this hour this.” It’s a trick borrowed by boarding schools and heck, even public schools. And yes, definitely factories.

For most people work is not a “career.” It is “That which pays the bills.” The actions of working (as I was prepared to accept with my degree choice) aren’t in themselves pleasurable, or even overly interesting, but you do it the best you can, and you earn a living. And habit lubricates that and makes it easier. I mean, I didn’t want to write a short story on vacation, but the habit compelled me to.

What happens when you have most of the world broken of the habit of working?

I know — because I’m struggling with it — how hard it is to rebuild the habit, so that you can work at your best when you’re supposed to. (And working from home is not necessarily “work hours” but the hours that you need to work.) So that you’re not fighting yourself just to get to the desk/workbench/whatever and do what you have to do.

Because there’s always other things that need doing. There’s always distractions.

In addition to throwing a massive wrench of uncertainty (and almost for sure hyperinflation to come) into our economy, the last year and a half has destroyed work and study habits of a vast portion of the population. Can they get them back? Will they even realize they need to? Or that they’re not working at their best?

Breaking an habit is the easiest thing in the world. Building a new one…. not so much.

This might be the biggest damage from the covidiocy. And it will blight more lives than the virus ever could.

Other than the fact it’s a textbook example of why government needs to be small, starved and limited, what can we do about it?

I don’t know. I know what I can do about me, and about everyone I know who is having issues. And that’s encourage you to form new habits as fast as you can. To harness yourself tightly to work standards, and to struggle to regain the habit of productivity.

Because regardless of natural gifts and abilities, if people don’t get that habit back, they’ll be very poor.

And so will society.

Go to work. I’ll do likewise.

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

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

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 LAURA MONTGOMERY: Sleeping Duty: Waking Late

Gilead Tan and Andrea Fielding survived their stint in the military, got married, signed up to emigrate to a terraformed colony world, and went into cold sleep for the journey from Earth. While they slept, the starship went through the wrong fold in space and settled for a different world, a wild world.

Three centuries after the founding of a colony on the uncharted planet, Gilead awakens to find humanity slipped back to medieval tech and a feudal structure.

Worse, the king who wants Gilead awake won’t let Gilead awaken his wife.

FROM CRAIG W. STANFILL: Terms of Service: Subject to change without notice.

1984 meets The Matrix in this riveting science fiction novel about corporate totalitarianism, personal freedom, and one brave character’s journey to reclaim her humanity from an oppressive regime.

250 years in the future, artificial intelligences control every aspect of Kim’s life – from what she has for breakfast to who she is allowed to have sex with. Living in the northeast province of what used to be the United States, she is a rising star at The Artificial Intelligence Company, training and managing sentient beings called “AIs” in the enigmatic parallel universe of Virtual Reality. 

When a seemingly harmless lark sends Kim’s life spinning out of control and the AIs begin to go mad, Kim launches into a journey of self-discovery and chaos that threatens to tear down society’s corrupt powers, and possibly civilization itself.

For fans of classic dystopian literature like Brave New World and ground-breaking TV shows like Black Mirror, Stanfill explores the lurking dangers of a surveillance state where privacy is dead, corporations have unlimited power, and even using the word “I” is forbidden.

FROM J. L. CURTIS: Rimworld- Into the Green

After a chance encounter with Dragoons and Traders turns a routine planet exploration into a rout that kills his team and his career, Lieutenant Ethan Fargo, medically retired, wants nothing more than to hole up in the backwater Rimworld he’d explored and enjoy a quiet retirement far from people or problems.

Unfortunately, he’s about to find out that he’s not as retired as he wants to be, and that his new home system comes with dangers, politics, and Dragoon sightings of its own. What promised to be a boring retirement will turn out to be anything but.

FROM M. C. A. HOGHARTH: Who Is Willing

Alysha Forrest is looking forward to her assignment as the Songlance’s newest lieutenant, particularly when it gets her placed as the liaison to the ship’s water environment crewmembers. Interfacing with the mermaid-like Naysha and the alien Platies who serve as the ship’s navigators is an exhilarating experience, and all the other officers on the crew are eager to welcome her into the fold… all of them, except one.

Mike Beringwaite, the overbearing ensign who ruined their leadership retreat years earlier, has somehow made lieutenant too. When a routine problem in the water environment throws them together, Alysha has to decide how willing she is to forgive him for what he did, whether she can work with him again, and most importantly, if she can trust him–with her life.

The disaster at the leadership retreat is nothing to the one they have to handle now. If they can….

FROM ROBERT BIDINOTTO: WINNER TAKES ALL: A Dylan Hunter Justice Thriller.

A MURDEROUS CONSPIRACY FOR ULTIMATE POLITICAL POWER

Engaged to be married, mysterious journalist Dylan Hunter and CIA security officer Annie Woods are desperate to put their violent past behind them.

But then an investigative reporter is brutally, mysteriously murdered.

A visionary presidential candidate is targeted for destruction.

And a horrific day of unspeakable terrorism rocks Washington, D.C.

Soon, Hunter’s investigation puts him in the cross hairs of a power-hungry billionaire and a cold-blooded assassin. Camouflaged by “fake news,” a deadly conspiracy of Russian spies and American traitors aims to install their puppet in the White House.

And these predators will do the unthinkable to bring America under their total control.

The stakes — political and personal — couldn’t be higher. Because to stop them, Dylan Hunter must make an irrevocable choice. He must revert to his dark, secret life as a violent vigilante, waging a one-man war of justice against the corrupt and untouchably powerful.

It’s a decision that will, finally and forever, seal his fate … including his future with the woman he adores.

But for now, only one thing is certain:

In the tidal wave of political violence raging through the blood-soaked streets of Washington, D.C., the final outcome will be … WINNER TAKES ALL.

FROM ELISE HYATT: Dipped, Stripped and Dead.

A Dyce Dare Mystery
When she was six, Dyce Dare wanted to be a ballerina, but she couldn’t stop tripping over her own feet. Then she wanted to be a lion tamer, but Fluffy, the cat, would not obey her. Which is why at the age of twenty nine she’s dumpster diving, kind of. She’s looking for furniture to keep her refinishing business going, because she would someday like to feed herself and her young son something better than pancakes.
Unfortunately, as has come to be her expectation, things go disastrously wrong. She finds a half melted corpse in a dumpster. This will force her to do what she never wanted to do: solve a crime.
Life is just about to get crazy… er… crazier. But at least at the end of the tunnel there might be a relationship with a very nice Police Officer.

FROM ANNA FERREIRA: The Flight of Miss Stanhope: A Short and Sweet Regency Romance.

Marianne Stanhope is in trouble. Her family is urging her to accept the attentions of a most odious suitor, so she turns to a gentleman of her acquaintance for aid. But Mr. Firth has his own reasons for assisting Miss Stanhope, and it falls to her childhood friend Mr. Killingham to convince her that she’s made a dreadful mistake.

FROM C. CHANCY: Gateway to Fiction.

THE LONG AWAITED WORLDBUILDING BOOK!

Do the Research, Keep the Shiny! A writer’s guide. Want a good story? Choking on yet another sparkly cinematic production that has all the flash and explosions yet no real people in it? If you want stories done right, sometimes you’ve just got to do it yourself. But how? Roll up your sleeves, we’re going to cover it all. No preaching; no “but thou must follow steps X, Y, Z”. Just, here’s some ideas, and some examples, of how it can work. From getting over that first hump of pen to page, through getting ideas and characters from point A to point B, all the way to how to keep breathing when the whole world’s crumbling in. There are links. There are tropes. And there’s a sober explanation of why fanfic has always mattered. In your mind’s eye there’s a world no one else has seen. Here’s some tools. Worldbuild away!

FROM ROBERTO JULIANO: Cry Bullies Protecting yourself against social muggers and victimhood aggression

Cry Bullies…How to spot them, who they pick to bully, how they fight, and how to fight back.

FROM GEORGE PHILLIES: The One World.

Amazon warriors against musketeer hordes!

The Holy Musketeers have found another continent to loot. The opposition? The primitive natives have no muskets and no cannon. Their cowardly men send their women to fight.

FROM DAVE LEWIS: Moira And The Two Nathans.

Immuration. She’d known the definition. Now she knew the meaning, in all its drawn-out horror. She didn’t know how long she’d been immured, only that she was nearing her end. Then, like a miracle, there was someone to free her, but — who was he? Where did he come from? Why did he know her name?

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: FUZZY

We’ve All Gone Mad

Maybe it’s just me, okay? I mean it’s possible.

This morning I am writing this late, because I had to go to the thrift store. The thrift store because I’m the world’s cheapest human being and — sigh — I gained weight through 2020-to 2020 Won. Not because I — particularly — stopped moving around or working out, but because when I stress and the autoimmune goes nuts, I gain weight. I have no explanation for this, it’s just a thing.

Anyway, we JUST got to the point I need short sleeves. Unfortunately what this means is that most of my blouses and shirts are either exposing my mid-riff or …. stained, and have holes because I was doing a bunch of house stuff last year.

Anyway, our favorite thrift store (ARC) is never…. great at hanging things in the right places or…. Other things. We used to have so much fun laughing at weird-placed things…

But now? Seriously? They had more employees out than I’ve ever seen, but ….

Okay, let’s put it this way: If the isle is marked Short Sleeve, Knit Tops, size XL…. I expect it be mostly correct. I don’t expect that 50% will hit one of those attributes, but none of the others, and the rest will hit none of those.

Again, they’ve always had some issues, and some of them might or might not have been customer re-hanging. But this was next level.

And while yes, I do understand that visually making sense of the difference between L and Xl is difficult, and I often browse both isles, these shirts had tags saying S or M. I found more XLs in the M isle than any of the others. And as for knit… well, it shouldn’t be an arcane concept….

Anyway, again, it’s always been sort of like that, but today it took me an hour, much to younger son’s exasperation, because I had to walk every isle including children.

And yes, I know, people are having trouble getting employees to come in and work but they actually had more employees, or perhaps volunteers than before.

So, what gives?

I don’t know. Search me.

This is not the only place I found this. Some of the mistakes in grocery stores, I assumed were “making the gaps less obvious” but seriously? Since when isn’t Spaghetti sauce under Italian, but two isles away under Mexican? Or why is the paper goods isle stacked with…. bleach. Or–

Meanwhile my friends who work retail are being pulled about by crazy bosses who make their time at work living hell.

Frankly, though of course, my boss is me (and she’s a bitch) all bosses seem to have lost their minds.

Why the heck?

Well…. we’ve all gone a little crazy.

This is something never talked about in stuff like 1984, where humans behave like good robots, and just do whatevs, but ….

There is a price to pay for irrational fear mongering and non-stop propaganda, compounded by contradictory orders, compounded by demanding we do things that make no sense, compounded by demanding we swear allegiance to “totally not stolen” election, compounded by unequal application of laws and demanding — literal — genuflection to their crazy priorities.

The price is that even for those humans who nod and go along, and don’t want to make waves is that your back brain knows something isn’t quite right. And you can get angry. And then they keep wanking you around and the anger keeps growing.

And then….

And then you don’t perform to spec. You become obsessed with stupid things, like “But what color should my shoes be?” or —

Anyway, humans don’t behave well under extreme stress. I’ve seen more people I’ve known for years suddenly and bizarrely go from zero to ree over nothing than I’ve ever seen in my life before. Or people who declare a ridiculous position and then stick to it buckle and tongues. Like the guy on a friend’s wall who kept repeating “But the news are supposed to be the truth” over and over and over again. In this time. In this place. And calling names to everyone who refused to knuckle under.

So.

We’ve all gone a little mad.

And it’s only going to get worse. To the stuff the government locusts destroyed, just so they could steal the election, add in the fact that even people trying their best are working while their back brain screams “RUN. You’re getting contradictory signals. You’re in danger. RUN.” And so things will get…. weird.

What do you do about it? I don’t know. Other than remember we’ve all gone a little mad.

Like the other things in this crazy time line, we’ll have to endure. Until the other side.

Hard or soft?

When I put the thing about hard times not creating strong men, (though they do create hard men, but that’s not always in the sense we think of as strong,) a lot of you came back with “shirt sleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations.”

I don’t need to tell you that’s also not a universal truth, right? Not even close. It might seem that way in America (and we’ll go into it) but when you have an history as long as European countries, you quickly realize “families colonize niches.” Sure, some rise spectacularly and fall again just as spectacularly, but most families have kind of an “Area” they move within. Which is not particularly surprising given that your spouse usually meets in the same circles, and has the same general characteristics. (This is not true in America, btw, for obvious reasons.) I think it is at the back of the European notions of class and also that if no one in your family ever did x how dare you aspire to it?

My family is a bit of an outlier, because men in my family tend to marry weird. Not necessarily badly, mind you, they just tend to prefer their women to be interesting in some way, which involves (most of the time) marrying outside their circles and often very strange indeed. (That I know there is no genetic connection between Dan and I. I mean, we did look, since a lot of the same characteristics run in our family, and yes that is one of them, though frankly my husband — judging by past dating history — likes his women dangerous.)

So my family does tend to go up and down on a cycle, but the cycle seems to be more five generations. And frankly part of it is that the society doesn’t fit the family very well. As in, everyone seems to have artistic inclinations but also do well academically. Since the arts don’t pay well in a tiny and frankly odd country, people either become craftsmen or go into a bureaucratic position in which they die by bits, while excelling and living lives of quiet desperation.

We’re five generations removed from business acumen and I’d say those were outliers, since most of my family cannot sell ice cubes in the desert. They’re good at saving, mind you (thank heavens) but suck at selling at a profit.

However most people, if you count extended family, settles into bureaucrat or teacher, and rumbles along. And has done so as long as we know, which is very long indeed.

Now are there families where it is shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves in three generations. Yes, mostly in America, honest (or was when mobility was freer) though I know of two in Portugal as well, and mostly what I call “flash in the pan” wealth. It can be very large, but usually luck was involved in forming it. (Other than that, vast fortunes are usually amassed very slowly. As in husband’s family, 150 years to amass a fortune, four generations to lose it. Though not completely. I just married the youngest son of the youngest son of the youngest son. Makes a difference.)

And what that family did when getting rich was go directly to treating their kids as though they were scions of old, wealthy families. As in, families that have been rich as heck for generations and have so secured their income in land and investments that they can afford to wrap their kids in cotton and treat them like precious gilded china.

I met some of those, and unless the fortune is indeed vast, incredibly secure, and there is no catastrophic innovation to upend its security, that family is indeed going to tumble into poverty very fast. Faster if the guy (it’s almost always a guy, though there is the rare woman) who made the fortune and who is a bit of a sport, if you look at his ancestors, marries unwisely. And in the case of men, most of them do. They marry for looks, and often people of terrible inclinations and habits. And their kids devolve to the gutter.

As I write this it occurs to me some of you are going “eugenics” and “treating people like race horses.” You’d be wrong. Sure, there’s genetics involved, because you inherit psychological traits from your parents, as well as physical. If I’d ever doubted that, I can’t when younger son is my father’s slightly taller clone, down to the type of woman they’re attracted to.

But those traits are not, in themselves, what makes you capable of succeeding or failing in society. For instance, in Portugal I’d probably be a housewife, with poems stuffed in my desk drawer. Oh, I might also have taught. Because society can’t afford professional writers. So, in other words, I’d follow the family path.

Maybe.

Because I have most of my traits from dad’s side (where the business acumen pops up every five generations or so but dutifulness and intellectualism are consistent traits, so that they usually end up as middle managers, professors or well, doctors and engineers. Or carpenters. Or mechanics. Because if you look at it those professions are all actually using the same traits. What they don’t end up as is (normally) entrepreneurs, top managers, or charismatic figures. Why? Well…. because they’re very …. self-effacing and while not lazy don’t want to exert too much effort on things that don’t interest them. What usually interests them doesn’t pay.

Then there’s mom’s side, who are mostly decayed aristocracy. (VERY decayed, as I’ve shared some stories of her childhood.) But the thing is mom’s family is ODD. They throw sports all the time. And the sports are either startlingly UNsuccessful or well….. astonishingly successful. And you can’t predict it because the trait for wild creativity seems to be at odds with stick-to-it-ness. IOW I think mom’s family is mostly ADD (AF) and few have the discipline to overcome it and stick to it long enough to be successful.

So, you know, (As Jordan Peterson points out) it’s not just a matter of being intelligent enough or smart enough to be successful in life. There are other traits that go into it, such as persistence, (both in learning and in working in a field) and creativity and, oh, yeah, ability to work with others (most people in dad’s family are introverts. I think the worst ones go into teaching, because it’s very top-down in Portugal) which Peterson calls agreeableness. There are other traits he doesn’t touch on like charisma. Mom’s side has oodles of charisma. It oozes off them. So they often end up as leaders even if they’re in no way qualified to lead a kitten out of a wet paper bag. And often make it stick on charisma alone.

I’d like to think that even if I’d stayed in Portugal (looking back that is wildly unlikely. Though it was by no means sure I’d end up in the US, or at least not right away) I eventually lost my mind and started writing books in English, and that even if I put those in the drawer, I’d have now published them indie. And probably done very well. (Keep in mind the “very well” is about 2/3 lower in Portugal. In Portuguese terms I’m making as much money as MDs. So….)

Would I have? I don’t know. Depends on how much my upbringing could overcome my inclinations. And frankly, on how much I needed money.

Which brings us back to the old conundrum: genes or upbringing? I don’t know. And you can’t either. Each family has a culture that gets passed along with the genes. It’s probably not a coincidence that in demeanor and action I feel more comfortable with/resemble dad’s family the most, as they were the ones that brought me up, so I got that culture. Even if I also have some wild flashes from mom’s side.

At any rate, the way to do shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves in three generations is to get someone who is a wild outlier, amasses a vast fortune, and decides his children SHALL have everything they want, plus the pony. No one will ever speak to them in anger. They not only won’t be spanked, every pain will be spared to them.

This usually creates an absolute wastrel, who might coast through life on daddy’s money, but whose kid will have to work to GET BACK to “shirt sleeves.”

This has society wide implications, which is why if people squint really hard that strange thing about hard times creating strong men “feels” right. But it isn’t.

It would be more accurate to say that discipline and a strict upbringing creates strong people. This might or might not be a “hard” upbringing. And of course, if taken too far it creates broken people. As hard times tend to.

In the end we come back to Heinlein’s saying “Never ruin your children by making their lives too easy.”

Now, what is making your children’s lives too easy? I don’t know. You’ll have to calibrate it and sometimes you’ll be wrong.

There are certain things that seem universal, such as you should get your kids to do at least some work for their “extras”. How lavish the basic is is up to you. I mean, you’re supposed to furnish a minimum by law, but after that, you think about it.

My family didn’t give me many extras, either because they couldn’t afford it, or because mom was engaged in saving as much as possible (having seen the results of the opposite) which btw included depriving herself. In my case too it was complicated by the fact mom refused to understand there had been an episode of hyper inflation between myself and my brother, because of the long span (to be fair, she refused to recognize the hyperinflation at all for decades, which I think is similar to some people from the depression era here. As in, the equivalent of someone nowadays running around going “But the cheapest shoes are $5 at Walmart. OUTRAGEOUS. I should be able to buy an entire outfit for that.” Which meant we lived well below our means, while she lamented every day of how life was ruinously expensive. That’s fine.) Which meant what she gave me for school lunches bought me an espresso at the cheapest price (discounted school coffee shop.) It also meant that clothes, books and anything else came out of my pocket. Which was mostly empty because I didn’t get an allowance.

Now this isn’t necessarily as bad as it could be, because mom retired when I was 12 (medical, due to her heart condition and her tendency to brink deadlines) which meant after that clothes designing and making was her hobby, so as long as I was willing to wear whatever struck her to make, I was well (for Portuguese version) dressed and didn’t need to buy any. Except that I liked jeans and t-shirts for every day wear and she wouldn’t make or buy me those.

Anyway, what this meant in practicality is that though I think naturally — genetically — I’m like dad’s family and not likely to get really daring or entrepreneurial, I had to figure out early on how to make money for the extras. It mostly meant stuff like publishing a neighborhood paper at 12, or later tutoring.

Which caused me to develop initiative.

In the same way, though I am naturally ADD (AF) I had to learn to stick to studying long enough to have good grades (interestingly enough this involved rewarding myself, which I have to learn again.) because failing was just not possible. No, I don’t think my mom would kick me out, but in my head she absolutely would. Besides dad would be all “more in sorrow than in anger” and that was unbearable.

So, do soft times create soft men? Well, no. But a soft upbringing DOES create adults who just go with their genetic/family culture inclinations. And few of them are the kind that lead to success. Since humans are a scavenging species, if children internalize that “times are good” and they’ll be fine no matter if they don’t work, or if they give in to every destructive impulse, then the scavengers “time is too good. Have no children and laze about” kicks in. Because otherwise scavenging species get too large and the next generation starves (in nature.)

Obviously this is controllable, and obviously the “old, successful” families of Europe have managed to control it, by instituting rigid rules of conduct for their children, which in turn create or promote certain traits in the children. (In England this led to notoriously spartan living conditions for boarding school children, for instance. It seemed to work? At least better than now.)

And there is a hard/soft parenting thing that cycles. Let’s remember the Victorians succeeded the footloose and fancy free Regency. Those aren’t hard or soft cycles in money terms (though they were for many families. Because many people blew through family fortunes in the regency) but more soft/hard cycles caused by the fact people recognized the defects in their own upbringing and brought up their kids differently.

I want to point out here that both extreme hard upbringing and extreme soft upbringing both have problems. In the first, you risk creating someone too timid to succeed, and in the second the kind of hedonism that makes it impossible to ever do anything worthwhile, or even know it’s possible to.

On the other hand, all of us being human, it’s almost impossible to hit the happy medium (who won’t be very happy after you hit her.) You’re going to err. But most small mistakes are correctable. And sometimes you’ll make mistakes without realizing it. Or the kid’s innate tendencies will defeat your best efforts, because kids are human too, meaning self-willed.

Now hard times can force that kind of “come to Jesus” moment, where people realize that they need to treat their kids with more …. stern supervision. Or trigger the conditions for it. I’m sure the fact that mom’s dad drank away the family fortune was responsible for her “must sock away every penny” which in turn made me shift for myself in ways she didn’t probably even realize (like photocopying classmates’ school books so I could do the home work. Or doing it very early morning borrowing a friend’s book. Because mom refused to believe university books (come from England) could be that expensive.)

That’s undeniable.

However it doesn’t follow that good times must perforce create soft and spoiled, “decadent” men. (Competent men in each civilization are different. Spoiled scions of the elites, though, are all the same across the ages, and seem to partake the same vices with minor variations.)

It’s all on how you treat them.

Part of the problem we’re in is not that people who came back from WWII tried to give their kids the best of everything, and raise them as much in a bubble as could be managed. (By and large. There’s always exceptions.)

Rather it’s that the culture as a whole wanted to “study war no more” and also had hit one of its goofy cycles of “romanticism” and nature worship, which in child upbringing means “Let’s all believe Jean Jacques Rosseau knew squat about raising children. Let’s believe if we set no boundaries or limits, we’re creating angels, and that children only learn violence if they get a swat on the behind, and without it are natural pacifists.”

Look, I understand the temptation as far as the Germans of WWII were believed to be the culmination of the Prussian way of life, which was also believed to be very rigid and stern. (Look, none of these things are 100% but that was the popular view of it.) So, they tried to run the other way.

But unfortunately this also happened at a time when “mass everything” was at its apogee, as was centralized dictating of “how things are to be done”. This led among other things to schools of education who enshrined Jean Jacques Rosseau artsy fartsy nonsense as holy writ, taught generation after generation and made worse every generation because when it doesn’t work it must be because we’re still too harsh and demanding.

Which has us in the year of our Lord (maybe. not absolutely sure how much the Lord is involved in this) 2021 dealing with a top-down educational establishment and culture trying to force every kid to be raised like the spoiled scion of a noble family.

This discourages child bearing (as the only way to still make the kids functional is for the parents to treat child rearing as a full time job, which few families can afford.) It also — if parents don’t fight it tooth and nail, without running afoul of the law — creates a generation of useless wastrels, addicted to their pleasures.

To the Millenials credit most of them are NOT like that. But are they soft? Well, yes. Far softer than they should be, because the parents weren’t able to do much to make them work for their extras. (We managed it by living so tight that well, they had to.) And somewhat confused about their abilities, talents and what they should use them for, because in its latest “self esteem” incarnation the insanity of the establishment praises them for everything they are even vaguely competent at.

Yes, most of them need to be tested and hardened. Again, to their credit, at least in the US, most of them improve vastly over their first decade of paid work, and develop the discipline they were never taught. The rest of them become socialists, of course. Which, yes, is a problem. But I want to emphasize (whatever my younger son says) those are a minority. (A lot of them pay lip service because the establishment will destroy them otherwise.)

Is this the ideal way to raise kids? Oh, heck no, and I suspect in the wake of whatever is heading for us we’ll head the other way. Possibly too far. (And no, I can’t give exact dates or nature. I can just feel it, like a massive break in the timeline and culture. I still think it starts next month, though the early incidents might not be recognized as such. After that it’s all in the air. I still think “Brief” but is brief months or years. I don’t know. Also note, I’m not a cult leader. I could be wrong. Particularly on the timing. It’s just a sense from the “feel in the air.”)

So I see where people get that impression. But mostly it’s the way kids are raised, not how “good” times are, that creates softness or hardness. And it’s possible to be raised “soft” and fairly wild in bad times, too, particularly if distracted parents are fighting too hard to survive to keep an eye on the little so and so.

If you can at all, don’t have your kids raised by strangers. And make them work for some of their extras. And the rest will take care of itself.

The thing to remember is that as hard as it is to discipline our kids or deny them harmless pleasures (and if you’re not a parent yet, trust me on this, it is) if you are too soft and indulge them too far, you end up making it impossible for them to succeed.

And if you have the supervision of a bunch of kids and don’t discipline bad behavior because “he’s just wild, not a bad boy” you’re going to ruin everyone. Perfect justice is not your purview. Enforcing acceptable behavior is. Otherwise you’re teaching a kid to be untrammeled and, yes, cruel (all humans are cruel if not checked. All that varies is the degree) and the others that people can impose on them and there is no justice or safety.

It’s important to know that in the end the worst thing you can do to people is to set no boundaries, no limits, no expectations, and give them everything they want.

That will not create soft men, per-se. It will often create monsters, and the rest of the time create wastrels.

It’s bad enough when the institutions go that path. Don’t add to it.

Self Care, Sanity, and Einkorn Thumbprint Cookies by Dorothy Grant

Self Care, Sanity, and Einkorn Thumbprint Cookies by Dorothy Grant

How are you doing? Oh, don’t tell me you’re fine. I’m a woman; I know full well just how vast and unhappy the spectrum of “fine” can be. It’s been a crazy few years, and at some levels, like national politics, the forecast is calling for 100% chance of more crazy. (It’s the rising percentage in the forecast for boogaloo that worries me more.) However, right now we don’t get to armor up for the zombie apocalypse or break out the metal colander mask and the thunderdome. Right now, we need to keep going, and not let the crazy break us down.

In aviation, we say to passengers, “In the even of the loss of cabin pressure, put your own oxygen mask on first.” There’s a reason for this: by the time you get through an OODA loop after loud noises, sudden shocking cold, completely unexpected turbulent motions and the chaos of things falling and flying in your face… you barely have enough oxygen left to remember to take care of yourself, and if you spend that trying to do something else, you’re not likely to make it. Down here on the ground, the need for self care is rarely so sudden… but it’s also rarely so immediately obvious, and by the time you realize that you are a complete wreck, well, you’re a burned-out complete wreck, and that’s really, really hard to crawl back to sane, happy, and healthy from. Why not start taking better care of yourself right now, so you don’t hit that in the first place?

So, treat yourself like someone you’re responsible for helping. (Hail Lobster! He has some really good ideas.)

And that’s going to involve making sure you eat healthily, and get some sunlight and some sleep, and stop spending so much time on social media. National politics isn’t going to stop being stupid if you take a few days away from it, I assure you… but you might sleep better if you’re not grinding your teeth and dumping a load of cortisol into your system.

Speaking of cortisol, I lift weights three times a week, in part because I cannot breathe well enough to do the things I want to do – but also because it lets me burn the stress hormones out of my system, which makes life a lot more chill. You don’t even need to go to a black iron gym like I do: if you cruise over to youtube and hit one of the bodyweight exercise videos, I’m pretty sure there’s something you can find that you can do, at whatever skill level you have. Or do like a friend and go bang on sheetmetal in the garage and build medieval armor. Or whatever makes you happy, as long as you’re moving.

As for sleep – you do have a blue light filter like f.lux installed on your computer and your phone, to cut the blue light after dark, right? Because there’s no point in making it harder on yourself to get some sleep. As even Count Rugen advised: Get some rest. After all, if you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.

And then there’s getting sunlight during the day. Yes, yes I know – a goth is telling you to go out in the sun. However, it really does help, and we need all the bits of help we can get. Jen Satterly mentioned this one either in Arsenal of Hope as part of the treatment modalities for complex PTSD and self-care when living with same, or in the supplemental material on the All Secure Website. (Which, if you have, or live with someone who does, I cannot come up with enough adjectives and adverbs and expletives to express how strongly I recommend you check her book out.)

She recommended, among many other things, getting a handful of minutes of daylight, sunlight if possible, every single day. And it’s not just the Vitamin D, though we’re all pretty deficient these days. It’s also that being out and around green and growing things, and away from the same four walls, is healthy. My garden of potted herbs is actually doing really well this year, because if I’m going to be outside, I’m going to water them and check on them. (Interestingly enough, some kinds of migraines actually respond to green wavelength light. Which means my coworkers can tell if it’s a headache or a migraine by whether my desktop background is pulled off the Hubble telescope or from the botanical gardens.)

Getting sunlight actually helps sleeping at night. It also helps my mood, and makes dealing with panicked people easier. Some of you lovely people only have to deal with panicked and stressed people on the freeways and on the intertubes; I get to deal with them every day as part of my paycheck. Which… is nothing new, really. Never, ever, walk through the pax side of the airport with an ID badge showing if you can help it, even if the employee cafeteria is closed for remodeling. You don’t get your food; you get a steady stream of panicking people wanting to know where Gate A34 is (hint, you’re in C terminal. It ain’t here.) and where their husband is (like I would even know? I’m not that kind of woman!)

And then there’s fixing your food intake for reduced inflammation and increased nutrition. Which I’m going to say… do what works for you. High carb does not work well for many people, myself and the Beautiful But Evil Space Princess among them. But people are highly individual, and you get to find what works best for you, not what works best for me. Personally, I need a much higher amount of protein in my diet than our lovely hostess, but as we mentioned above, I weightlift for exercise and relaxation. I can also get away with more carbs than she can, though I try to keep that in check other than at meetings of the North Texas Writers, Pilots, and Shooters Association. Which, if you’d ever had LawDog’s Chicken Spaghetti or Jim Curtis’s shrimp and grits with tasso gravy, you’d know why I’m not even going to think about sticking to low carb while beta reading a chapter and bouncing ideas off the others.

What I can’t get away with is eating wheat without suffering the consequences. I claim no trendy diagnosis, only the sad fact that cutting out wheat for a couple weeks made it painfully obvious that eating that ingredient makes my arthritis flare. Yes, sourdough bread is made of utter delicious foreboding that the pain is going to hit… and some days, it’s worth it.

Because taking care of yourself isn’t about living a strict life of no joy and no fun; it’s about reducing inflammation and pain while also deciding where and when it’s worth it to cut loose, and making sure that you enjoy the heck out of cutting loose when you do.

On the other hand, as I’m human, I’m eternally searching for the cheat mode that lets me have my cake and eat it too… or at least eat the cake and not hurt so badly afterward. And this is where einkorn comes in. As a grain, it fell out of favour in the early Bronze Age, as our intrepid ancestors worked hard at breeding more corns – more grains – per stalk, in order to increase food density per acre.

Which means that it’s stupid expensive compared to the end result of five thousand years of selective breeding and experimentation in wheat… but it’s really fascinating to bake with, and cook with, and realize the limitations on rising and proofing and dough structure that they had to work with. I no longer wonder why ancient breads were depicted as disk-shaped; the gluten is so weak that it’s hard to get it to rise instead of spreading. On the other hand, unlike modern wheat, it doesn’t make my arthritis flare. So while it does up my carb load… I get pain-free proto-bread!

Today, I upped the game: I made thumbprint cookies. And what cookies they are! It’s always awesome when you find something that’s actually *better* than the recipe it’s replacing. In this case, the nutty flavour of the einkorn (it’s definitely not domestic wheat) pairs well with the butter, the richness of the egg yolk, and the bright notes of the lemon juice to create a thoroughly flavourful shortbread cookie base. Better still, the weak gluten that makes it so hard to turn into bread or pasta shines here, because you don’t have to worry about overworking the dough!

As for the filling: I pulled a sunrise jam from the local farmer’s market (apricot, mango, and other stuff), and a strawberry-rhubarb jam out of the fridge, where they’d been languishing on the shelf as too good to throw away, but never spread upon the dearth of bread. Polishing them off in good conscience leaves me with more fridge space and delicious cookies. I had one cookie left to fill, so I tried some orange marmalade. That one disappeared in a haze of happy noises and buttery crumbs!

My Calmer Half sampled a cookie, and promptly helped me make a bunch of the batch disappear – but they’re filling enough we still have 3 left in a tub for snacking overnight and into the morrow. This does not contain live bobcat, will make again!

Einkorn Thumbprint Cookies

1 stick butter

1/4 cup sugar (52 grams)

1 egg yolk

1.5 teaspoons lemon juice

1.25 cups all-purpose einkorn flour (145 grams)

1/2 tsp salt

jam (or marmalade for more awesome!)

1. Preheat oven to 350

2. Slap some parchment paper on a baking tray

3. In a large bowl, stick the butter in the microwave to soften. Mine half-melted, and came out fine.

4. Cream/Mix the butter and sugar together, then add in egg yolk, lemon juice, and salt. Mix until smooth.

5. Break out the kitchen scale and tap in flour if you do weight. This stuff is finicky enough about moisture I actually do that. Otherwise, scoop and dump the flour and whisk it all together (or use a mixer; whatever floats your boat. These are not supposed to be stressful to make.)

6. Grab a spoon and dust your hands with einkorn flour, then start rolling the dough into balls. At the size I rolled, just under ping-pong sized, I got 11 cookies. Remember they are going to be smashed, and then spread further while cooking, so leave space. Re-flour your hands frequently to prevent sticky dough sticking.

7. Keeping your thumb dusted, make a…  thumbprint. Or a cross. Or whatever design kicks over your gigglebox, as long as it doesn’t make the bottom of the jamwell too thin for cookie integrity.

8. Spoon jam into the depression, in quantities just small enough it won’t overflow.

9. Bake for 12-19 minutes, until golden brown. If you like tiny cookies, 12 will do. If you like large cookies, just keep careful eye on ’em once past 14 minutes.

10. When you pull them out, set the timer for 8 minutes, and do not, no matter how tempting, give in to poking the cookies before it goes off. You just pulled boiling sugar out of the oven, and it’ll stick like napalm to the roof of your mouth with great burnination if you don’t let it cool!

11. When cool enough, grab a drinkable and enjoy!

If you were hoping for a calorie or carb count, you’re missing the point of having fun. Make your treats actually treats, and don’t detract the joy by worrying about it!

Link to Arsenal of Hope: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08R6NJJMH/

Cultural Hold

I think part of the problem with “culture” and understand “culture” is that we cram a bunch of stuff under that poor word.

Like when people say we need to “take back the culture” they mean arts, entertainment, news, the stories, however told and by whatever means, that tell a people what they are; inform each individual what they’re part of, and what role they’re expected to play in society. (Different for everyone, but narrative should play a part in telling us where we can find a role. Roles are important because the human mind compasses millennia, but human life is brief. Part of what is destroying us is that the left has taken away everything humans could with honor consider themselves part of and leave for the future.)

The left meanwhile thinks that culture is food, clothing, language and what kind of music you like to listen to, and quaint holiday celebrations. They then proclaim all cultures the same and all subsumed to the great socialist project, (Workers of the world amalgamate! If you like your quaint sheep eyeballs dish you can keep your quaint sheep eyeballs dish.) or you’re a racist, yo. In that last accusation there’s also the accusation that culture is genetic and cannot be changed. They are in a way right while being so wrong they’re not even wrong. Oh, and at the same time they claim trying to change what they conceive of as culture as being “racist” they try to change deep inlaid culture with governmental, top down regulations and incentives, in their deranged and destructive pursuit of creating the new socialist man. Because consistency happens to other people. Oh, and as people in the EU have found out, no, you can’t keep your quaint sheep eyeballs dish. Okay, I made up the sheep eyeballs, but the socialists of the EU have been almost as crazy in Portugal to the point that you’re now only allowed to celebrate the RELIGIOUS aspects of the Saints “festas” (which happen every weekend somewhere not far off, no matter where you are, from Spring to Fall and which used to be one of the binding points of any community.) and that only until the Covidiocy, of course. The little fairs that used to be held at the same time — since…. well, since written memory. I suspect it was going on before Christianity, for that matter. The fairs sold regional goods, there were booths serving local specialties, and there were toys sold at these fairs that I swear had been made by the same families since the middle ages. I’m willing to grant that roller coasters, little airplane rides, bumper cars and also cotton candy were of much more recent vintage, but I’d also bet you there were fun equivalents before then. And look you, I’m the first person to admit that much of what is traditional in Portugal could benefit from being rubbed down with (boiling) lysol, or at least that’s my kids’ opinion of it. But making the place characterless and bland is not in anyone’s best interest, and in my opinion is the cause of “people forgot how to make babies.” (More on that later.)

The problem of cultures is that though we know they change and adapt, we have no idea how to do that to them intentionally. The left THINKS they know how to do that, but they also think humans are infinitely plastic, so you now, they are, what is that word? Oh, yeah, idiots.

The other problem of cultures is that to study them you need accurate recordings done at least week to week, moment to moment being better, and you need to be able to catalogue all the influences on a given culture, and what caused it to go this way or that.

If we had a time machine, or at least a time scope, and also AIs with infinite time and patience, then sociology could become an actual science.

As is, we can study certain aspects of culture with relative clarity from a certain point on. Like, say, from the 1700s. Most of what we can study with no prejudice are physical and economic conditions. And even those, you have to cut through the modern interpretations, mostly Marxist and crazy and go back to the raw numbers. For instance, Dickens — and Marx — howled about the dark satanic mills, and people talk about how WWI destroyed the working class in Europe. But if you actually read contemporary records, or look at similar processes in the world now, you find that the industrial revolution lifted people out of the direst poverty and expanded their horizons, and that — you don’t have to go very far, read Agatha Christie — the complaints of the upper class about the lower classes post WWI is that those dang peasants were no longer willing to go into domestic service for a crust of bread and a corner of the kitchen to sleep in, but were scarpering to the city for factory and shop jobs. Which btw, is a complaint of the upper classes going back to the industrial revolution.

There’s other and more inescapable records: like the fact that people grew more, fatter babies to adulthood. And famines slowly vanished from the west unless brought on and caused by gross governmental malfeasance.

I mean, in historical terms, everyone has been fat, lazy and decadent since America’s settling, at least.

Look, part of why I object to that “good times makes soft men” is because…. How do you tell? No, seriously. Yeah, no. Military enlistment is not a good measure, because we can’t tell why people aren’t joining the army. Sure, it could be because they’re soft pansy-asses. And you’ll find documents saying exactly that.

But here’s the problem: we don’t know why people stop enlisting. I can give you some clues, though. For instance, I’d bet you right now enlistment numbers and quality are falling. Like as of RIGHT this year.

Is it because the amount of soy in our food increased drastically? Or because we’re all so fat and calm and happy?

Well, no. It’s because no one would trust Joe Biden not to send their sons and daughters to fight on the side of the enemies of civilization. And that’s without counting intolerable impositions on the beliefs of the troops, and all sorts of violations of people’s ability to simply be and serve. Which anyone sane can see are starting and already on the menu. In fact, I’ve heard more than one person who’s served with honor and is close to retirement saying that they don’t advise anyone to enlist right now.

But let the left win (They won’t. Please, stop posting walls of text in the comments saying that sure, commies can totes feed themselves and build a thousand years of communism, because it’s bullshit. At best they can take civilization down to the neolithic, and I suspect that’s only in local areas. They don’t understand either human psychology or economics, and economics is a stone cold bitch) and history books in a hundred years will talk about how the decadence and soft living of capitalism took America down, and look, their own sons weren’t willing to defend her.

We can’t know. History is mostly written by twits, and mostly by upper class twits, and often by twits with an ax to grind.

Yes, we all laugh at the complaints from the Romans yelling about how people were decadent because life was too soft. We should. Only the uppermost crust had a soft life. Trust me on this, because I lived in what amounted to Roman culture with a few 19th century refinements, and life is only soft if you think that having to go outside to the bathroom night or day, or live with excrement in a pot under the bed is “soft”; that having to wash your clothes by hand on stone, winter or summer is “soft” and that growing most of what you eat is soft.

Now, thanks to the magic of antibiotics, I didn’t lose as many classmates as mom did, and I guess compared to grandma, who grew up in much tougher times, or even dad, who describes days of “vegetable soup” as the only food, we had it “decadently easy.”

But I think we’re conflating things that have nothing to do with one another. Starving and lacking the werewithal to live; surviving on crusts of bread and having to hoard rags so you don’t freeze, etc. etc. don’t make people strong. Physically they make them small and measurably dumber. And emotionally, it seems to mostly breed serfs.

Yeah, I know “the frontier.” Yes, people at the frontier underwent all those hardships, and it did breed a strong generation or two. But you have to look at that as most of them CHOSE to undergo those hardships. As we saw with the expansion west, in almost living memory, that makes a big difference.

Someone who has more time and has the ability to spend years on the project should sift between colonies created by force — like when they swept London of whores, beggars, travelers and criminals and shipped them to West Virginia, of all places — and those that came willingly and paid to come, and compare the outcomes, both in intangibles (“How are their descendants doing today?”) and in sheer numbers. How many died? How many survived? How productive were those who survived. Even in a country as modern and documented as America, this might be almost impossible to figure out though. Why? Mobility. And people lying. A lot of people lying.

So, while my opinion is just my opinion, and it might actually be impossible to verify — though you can probably “prove” it to the degree that anything of the sort can be proven, absent magic, or a way to see into the past or parallel words. I mean, I could probably have proven it, if I’d been chasing numbers and writing down exact facts for all the decades I’ve spent reading history books. Alas, I haven’t — I’d like to suggest that cultures have a life of their own, and that they react almost like living organisms.

While changing cultures is possible for individuals or small groups, it gets harder the larger the group is, because it’s then more of a self-actuated organism.

And I know I’m explaining this badly, okay. But I’ve undergone culture change, voluntarily, on purpose, on my own. For the individual acculturating feels like going insane, and being asked to do it twice in a life time would probably drive the most grounded of individuals nuts. Unless, of course, the incentive were massive. And even then, they might just pretend. Yes, I have seen (am related to) emigrants who returned and integrated (sort of) in the life of the “motherland.” But I don’t think they’d ever really acculturated besides trying some new foods, learning the language, and maybe wearing their clothes differently. Most of them emigrated as family groups and with intention of returning. (You can tell when people return “before the kids marry in the new country.”) Even then, I’ve been there for some odd and bizarre cultural stutters that they stumble upon without meaning to.

Anyway, you can do it alone. You can even do it as a family, if you decide you’re really going to do it. A lot of people who came here between and after the long war of the 20th century did just this: “We speak English” and “We’ll celebrate the holidays of the new country” and “We’ll fit in as well as we can, even if we really can’t.”

You can do it as a village. Sort of. I’m told that entire Italian (or Irish) villages emigrated en-masse and colonized blocks of New York City. But in that case the culture will change very slowly, and only to the extent young ones move away and marry outside the community. And even then it will take some generations. (And this is why there is no ethnographic difference between mass immigration and invasion, and why we still don’t know if there was actually an “invasion” of the Western Empire of Rome, or a fast trickle of barbarians moving in. Look, yes, I’ve seen the paintings, but I’ve also read the “overwhelmed by mass immigration” books. And, lacking a time machine, I can’t tell you what the truth was, but it could be either or both.)

Things will survive, still, in family culture. And hear me, I don’t mean cute clothing and great food. Only the left thinks anyone would mind that. I mean ways of speaking, and ways of emoting, and what you do when the worst/best happens. For instance, for some reason my husband had no idea he had any German blood. I knew he did, because one of his ancestresses was runaway Pennsylvania Dutch. (She had the same name I did before I changed mine, so MIL told me about her.) But in the …. ah strange constructions that MIL would inflict on English and passed on to my husband, you could still see the German influence. Also in diet and a dozen other habits. My host family was of Italian ancestry, and trust me, even though their parents tried to raise them with no trace of Italian culture, when they got to arguing you’d hear it. And see it. My kids don’t speak a word of Portuguese (okay, maybe a dozen words, mostly swearing. I have a foul mouth when I burn/cut myself in the kitchen) but if you see them arguing, they do not sound like normal Americans, much less like his dad’s Connecticut ancestry. In fact, I used to be afraid the neighbors would think a knife fight was about to break out and call the police. And as we tell older son every day and twice on Sunday “if you’re going to be that fatalistic, make your grandparents happy and learn to sing fados.” (To be fair, he’s very good at singing the blues.)

But those survivals are small and on the whole unimportant, because by all major measures (and it would take a whole other post or ten for me to explain this) we are still an “English” culture, possibly more English than England (which makes perfect sense, when you consider that colonies are always more conservative than the mother land. In fact, that’s how you determine which is a colony and which is the mother land if you find them as shards in the archeological record. And by “conservative” in this case you should read “faithful to the fundamentals of the culture.” For instance, the English tend to be king-killers. The French did it once and got a bad rep, but the English do it cyclically. And we seem to have inherited that.)

Of course, make the mass immigration mass enough and it’s an invasion.

And interesting things happen in invasion.

Look, it’s possible in the future we’ll discover that “culture” is just as much part of being human as the fauna and flora in our gut is part of us being human. This being the case, and culture being very difficult (though not impossible, particularly for individuals) to change, how did we come this far from the fertile crescent, or Gobleki Teppi, or whatever far, far location you choose?

Well, mostly there’s a cultural evolutionary process, known as war, conquest and survival of the fittest culture. (Not without survivals, just like you still have a photo-sensor under the bones of your skull. But that doesn’t affect you, and doesn’t wreck your chances of survival.) I mean, after Romans, Germans, Franks, Moors, Crusaders, Franks again the area of Portugal I come from still celebrates St. John with bonfires and merry making on the street, and in fact reading of the habits in certain areas of England/Ireland makes me giggle. Oh, and the fairy tales, the really old ones where the moral is murky? Are the same in Ireland and the North of Portugal. I’m not saying every contact leaves a trace. But I’m saying when cultures collide, the one that loses still passes a little bit to the future. Mostly through the women.

Look, most of those things we associate with “decadence” mostly because we compare it to the decadence of Rome have zero to do with how hard or soft life is. What they have to do with is the culture having lost confidence. Either because they’ve been “conquered” physically or intellectually.

If you think about it, the evolutionary process for the culture to be taken over by the one that proved itself superior by winning the war (more on how that’s been corrupted, later) is beautiful. Most of the men died in the war, of course. What comes after is that most women become sluts and men become drunkards (or gay. Or bi. Or whatever means they’re not fighting the invaders.) In a generation or two, all the kids are the kids of the invaders, and though the mothers might have taught them one or two words of the old culture, some fairytales, and maybe some songs (which sometimes survive in girl children longer) the culture has BECOME the winning culture.

Now in Rome, arguably, they’d been intellectually conquered by Greece oh, and Egypt and heaven knew what else. Or at least their elites were as oikophobic as ours. So their elites at least behaved like a conquered culture. Hence “decadence.”

On the ground? The people? Depends. I think in urban areas, with a high influx of mass immigration, the story the people told themselves about themselves became incoherent long before the “fall” and caused some of the same issues. In the far flung colonies? Well, let’s say there’s some debate on whether Rome fell. My dad, if you catch him unawares, still defines himself by the culture of the Roman Republic, at least as understood and transmitted over the centuries. (SO sanitized, btw. Going through the Pompei exhibit, it was like Portugal when I grew up, but sexually insane. I mean, who the heck has a painting of children being screwed by monkeys in the living room. Outside our wealthiest elites, that is? So, in case you wonder, yes Christianity does make a difference.)

We’re kind of experiencing that, because our “elites” that control the mass media have been conquered by socialism for 100 years. Which is why we’re bearing a lot of the markers of a conquered culture, but honestly? It’s not how well we live. It’s the fact we’re being told to deny everything we think/feel/the way we do things in favor of the conquering culture.

And yeah, socialism can survive for a while. Though it too, like the terminal form — communism — can’t really feed itself/create anything. Without an America to cannibalize, Europe would be a lot poorer/more f*cked up. But still, they are, par excellence, the “conquered culture” with all the syndrome. Oh. One thing I didn’t add: if the men aren’t all dead, birth rate (and marriage rate) plummets. It did so even before contraceptives, and no one knows why. It’s possible there was rampant infanticide. Or that it’s some psychological mechanism that turns off fertility.

Again, look, when cultures clash the normal thing is for one of them to become non-functional and become subsumed to the “winning” culture.

Which is why socialists/statists are playing with fire. Let’s face it, even here, for 100 years, people have tried to impose cultural attitudes/deep beliefs/ways of living from above, and change them arbitrarily. (And for the mentally handicapped, no I’m not talking of the civil war. I’m talking since the beginning of the twentieth century with the mentality that we could have “scientific” governance. People were yanked about on what to eat, when to sleep, what to do. And mass media facilitated massive distribution of these decrees from on high, that applied to the most minute parts of individual life.)

I think our back brains understand that as “We were invaded, it’s time to die.”

To the extent America has a fighting chance at all, it is because we’ve always been fairly contrary and because the blogsphere gave us the ability to know we’re not alone.

And the problem with letting the “top down” culture win, is that socialism is death, either fast or slow. It’s “being invaded” forever, and just causes people to give up and die.

That’s what we’re facing. That’s what we’re up against. They can’t win in the sense of “last” but they can win in the sense of destroying human civilization more utterly than the imagined apocalypse of nuclear war.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why the idea if we just endure hard times we’ll emerge stronger p*sses me off. I don’t think those two things are even on the same axis. Correlation is not causation.

I also don’t know if there is some relation to fast rate of change and “symptoms of decadence”. It’s possible we’re changing our environment too fast for even us. Note that what I said above about clash of cultures seems to be designed to minimize the time of instability and achieve a new normal. That might not be possible with constant innovation and change, even if good. And no, I don’t know what that does to the back brain or the culture.

Frontier societies are a whole other ball of wax, and self-select to a great extent. Do we need one? Probably. Heinlein thought we did, and who am I to argue. (Also biologically all organisms extend their range or die.)

However the decadence imposed by seeming arbitrary dictats from above, about which the individual can do nothing will get in the way of our next leap to the frontier, because that one needs civilization and scientific knowledge.

So, let’s concentrate on what needs to change, and what needs to stop. And if y’all want to make it to the stars, that is certainly not “comfort” or “ability to treat diseases” or “babies growing to adulthood” or “people being largely well fed.”

What needs to change is us being treated like a conquered people. And responding like one.

The so called elites are stupid. The system they want to impose doesn’t work and has never worked elsewhere. Their claim of being “scientific” should (if nothing else, and you weren’t paying attention before) in 2021 be laughed out of the public square.

Let’s tell them where to put it.