Category: Uncategorized

Sorry for the very weird and spacey posting, but as you’ve probably gathered we’ve been at Liberty con in Chattanooga TN.

This year was very weird for us, because we didn’t know if we’d be able to go at all. We had a big family thing in the second week of June, which took about a week, came home for five days and I found I needed to rest, a lot. And then we went to LC.

However, until late May we didn’t know when the family thing in June was. So, we kept the liberty con people up in the air, as we juggled potential engagements. Props to Rich Groller who came through beautiful, even though we’ll have to talk later about his using me as an aimable weapon.

There were some very odd panels, which I think came from confusing me and Dan, so at the same time we were in “What is happening now in space science”, where I was the only person who didn’t work in aerospace, while he was in starting a low tech colony, which was definitely more my area. Or to make this more clear yet, you see my current book is about a colony that rapidly rebarbarizes, while Dan has the degree and expertise to talk space science. As is, I wasn’t totally useless, because I could pour a bucket of cold water on “China is way better than us and is going to lap us in space and reeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” (Yeah, I do get some of their points, but to ignore both the loosy goosy nature of Chinese “science” which extends to this, the inherent inefficiency of totalitarian regimes.)

I’m very glad we had “Virtual Younger Son” for the comics panel, since his knowledge of the field was invaluable. To explain, he was hoping to go, but he couldn’t do it, so he facetimed in. Again, his expertise was invaluable and the panel was interesting because of how much he contributed. I really didn’t have a lot to say since for now I’m benched on comics, don’t know if I’ll get back in, and am not doing much to get back in since I have a ton of books to write.

Other panels…. the other two were round tables for anthos I was in.

I was again on the panel on Dystopia. This always upsets me mildly, because while I have written dystopias I don’t write — or read — the dystopian subgenre. I find it annoying, more unbelievable than fairy tales and also attracting the sort of mind who thinks that that humans are widgets.

Note I said DYSTOPIAN SUBGENRE, not dystopias like Black Tide, or for that matter the reign of the Good Men in Darkships. Dystopias of that type is fun, because people are not only fighting, they’re on the way up.

The Dystopain subgenre, OTOH at least to my eye rejoices in the likes of Brave New World or 1984 where there’s no way out and no way up. Note both of those were written by red pilled convinced leftists. They might have realized communism was evil, but their concept of humans was still as widgets. And therefore they believed that type of command and control top down dystopia COULD work and it could go on forever.

While recognizing dangers on liberty and even now classifying myself as an apocalyotimist — I think everything is going to shit, but it will end up all right — I am deeply aware of the limits of tyrannical authority. This can be summed up as: Even the PRC, which has no soft western notions, cannot control their internal opposition (and in fact can’t tell how bad it is because the information problem is killer in dictatorships) and therefore 1984 or Brave New World, let alone the less skillfully written johnny come latelies of Apocallypsia are invalid.

Write them and read them if you wish, but don’t try to act all big and bad and like you’re telling truth to power. The setup is unrealistic. The whole thing can’t work with human beings. Human beings are infinitely adaptable, and poke holes in everything including systems of oppression. If it seems to you like China completely controls its people, or Russia does, or whatever, I say onto you that’s because they control the information that gets out and we foreigners are GULLIBLE. And if you think oppression works and can work infinitely, you not only have no experience of it, you are as wishful thinking as those who wish to apply it.

Why am I going into this? So, I was put in as moderator of the dystopia panel. And there was a mild kerfuffle. I would like to say it wasn’t my fault, but perhaps it was, I don’t know.

You see, the topic annoys me and last year voices were raised with a gentleman who calmed down markedly when I was given three axes by the Minotaur.

THIS year, I was put as moderator on the same panel, and one of the gentlemen not only had no sense of humor at all, but went into a spittle-flecked rage, apparently because I was doubting his expertise.

I started by pointing out that while I read — and write, though I might have forgotten to say that — dystopias, I don’t read — or write — the dystopian subgenre. I’m a depressive. Under no circumstances do I need to feed that with unrealistic doom and gloom tales. I further added I didn’t want to hear any arguments about how we’re all “in reality” doomed, because that is only comforting to those who wish to give up and not fight anymore.

This… person…. took it to mean I never READ things like 1984 — I am in awe of the type of mind who’d think you could grow up in the 21st century as a person of the written word and never have come across that — and was very upset that I don’t think the computer-collected data plus AI means game over, man, game over.

If I need to explain the computer collected data includes a never-end stream of chaff. Take the fact that I’ve never bought anything from Temu, ever. And don’t want to. But last week my mouse had issues, and every time I clicked on a page, it also brought up the first ad on that page, which was Temu once, probably accidentally and then was always Temu because of the accidental double-click. At one point I had 40 temu tabs up. For what? I don’t actually know. Greenhouses, I think? I didn’t look super-close as I ARGHED and closed it. The number of such occurrences is NOT trivial. In fact, I’ve never opened an ad directly from a page, but my browser has. Add to that the “They know when you stop on or hover over something” which usually means “Where I happened to be when my husband came into the room and I remembered to ask him about the laundry.” Or “where my cursor was sitting when I had to jump up to go fix a falling gate.”

Is there real data in what they collect? Oh, undoubtedly. But mostly? Because my life is chaos layered on insanity that’s what they’ll collect. And in this I don’t think I’m that unusual. It’s mostly how that works. A good movie to watch to understand the more data the more chaff is The Lives of Others. “But AI” fails because AI isn’t. AI is even more likely to be confused by chaff than a human being and will take “preponderance” which is usually chaff.

Anyway, since that gentlemen also referred to the Feds using cell phone data to catch the perpetrators of the “atrocities” of January 6, I think our clash was inevitable. And while I’m by no means innocent, in that I went into the panel primed for a fight from my previous experiments, I was also — I think — half joking in everything I said, while he had no sense of humor at all and was HIGHLY pissed off at me. Which is his choice, but I don’t think it sold him any books.

Anyway, I’d like to sigh, because when I told Rich, while saying goodbye that if he kept putting me on that panel, sooner or later I was going to shiv someone, he got this happy smile and said “You are so good in that panel.”

So, apparently I’ll be on that panel again next year? And if you’re attending you might want to come and perhaps hold me back? Or help me, whatever your inclination.

As usual the best part of Liberty con was seeing fans and friends, groups that increasingly blend and bleed together. I know a lot of your names, your kids, your jobs, your idiosyncrasies, and yes, I do love most of you. Or at least like you very much. It’s why I go to cons at all (particularly Liberty con) in the age of indie. And why I’ll keep going.

My only complaint is that Liberty con is now huge, so I ran into some friends rarely — I think I saw Jonna Hayden for maybe 15 minutes — and others — Old NFO — not at all. But that’s the price of success.

Two other complaints over the last few days. My laptop keyboard started dying on the trip so I couldn’t finish my book while being a passenger in the car. AND when I got home, I touched the six foot tall baby gate into the living room and it FELL on me, because engineer cat, Indy, had used his large and freakishly agile paws to undo the pressure adjustment on the side. Dan fixed it. Indy never got into the living room. But he was THIS CLOSE. If we’d been even an hour later, he’d have been in, and trying to get at the quail who is in there recovering from expelling all her guts. (Long story.)

So, now that I’m home, I’m going to write my book and keep an eye on engineer cat.

Wish me luck.

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. A COMMISSION IS EARNED FROM EACH PURCHASE.*Note that I haven’t read most of these books (my reading is eclectic and “craving led”,) and apply the usual cautions to buying. I reserve the right not to run any submission, if cover, blurb or anything else made me decide not to, at my sole discretion.– SAH

FROM PAM UPHOFF: Origin Stories (Chronicles of the Fall Book 11)

Six stories in the Troystvennyy Soyuz on the run up to and during the Fall of the Alliance.

Young people with problems with the brutal society, and all too often their own families. Young men and women reaching for a better future, as everything changes around them.

FROM ROBERT HANLON AND SCOTT MCCREA: Timber: U.S. Marshal: Strike Flint: A Western Adventure (A U.S. Marshal Ezra Flint Western Book 2)

Timber: U.S. Marshal and U.S. Marshal Ezra Flint are working together in this exciting new adventure from Robert Hanlon and Scott McCrea!

U.S. Marshal Ezra Flint is called in by William Burroughs of the Burroughs Bank, located in Misery, Kansas. A fellow banker in Texas has been embezzled by an employee; the bank needs an infusion of gold to remain solvent and the entire matter hushed up. For that reason, no military escort can be involved. Flint is hired to safeguard the shipment of gold to Texas.

Flint wires Jake Timber, legendary lawman, and asks if he would join him when he reaches Texas. He is delighted when Timber agrees to meet him on the trail.

Leaving Misery, Flint engages a retired gunman, Seth Thyne, to help out, and with a mission to complete, no holds will be barred to bring criminality in Texas to justice.

FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: A Hymn for Those Who Fall Forever

Endings always hurt, but Vitali Grigorenko never expected a nightmare in orbit.

Assigned to command the last flight of the orbiter Baikal, Vitali had started the mission in a nostalgic mood. That went out the airlock when he saw the body tumbling through space just beyond the flight deck windows. A body in NASA blue, not Russian tan.

Now he’s trying to get to the bottom of a murder in space, and his own country’s space program as much a hindrance as a help. It’s becoming clear that politics is involved, on both sides of what used to be the Iron Curtain, and he’s going to need to go clear to the top.

A short story of the Grissom timeline.

FROM MARY CATELLI: The Lion and the Library

The library holds many marvels. Lena and her betrothed Erion had found things that helped the beleaguered Celestians of the city.

But when the king’s caprice decides to sacrifice Erion to protect himself, Lena can only hope a legend can help her. A legend of just kings. And lions.

FROM BECKY R. JONES: Night Mage (Academic Magic Book 2)

After fighting a demon in the middle of Philadelphia, Zoe O’Brien wants nothing more than to return to her normal, if stress-filled, life as an assistant professor of history at Summerfield College. But she’s an Elemental mage and that means when there’s potential magical trouble on campus, the squirrels come to her. Who or what is the dark presence moving around campus? Why is it here and what does it want? Zoe struggles to come to terms with her mage powers and the leadership role her colleagues have given her. Complicating everything are all the papers that have to be graded, classes that need to be prepped, and most importantly, cats that require attention. Oh, yeah. She might actually have a boyfriend as well.

FROM LAURA MONTGOMERY: Transport and Deliver: A Martha’s Sons Short Story

When escape on a boat jeopardizes all a family has worked for, can an errant son risk his life to save their future?

The Luwenthals—second generation settlers on the lost planet Not What We Were Looking For—confront the destruction of their past life, and are forced to flee. As the boat containing the family’s prized linotype crosses a river lit by the flames of the printshop they had to abandon, fifteen-year-old Tobias Luwenthal must face his father’s ire over what he sees as his son’s betrayal. Disaster strikes, but will Tobias seize the chance to redeem himself at the cost of his own life? Will his father learn from his son as Tobias has learned from him?

A short story that picks up right at the end of The Gear Engages.

If you’ve enjoyed the Martha’s Sons series, start reading now for a glimpse into what happens next in this dystopian lost world!

FROM HOLLY CHISM: Universal Donor (Modern Gods)

Same liver, different vulture…

When you know you can regenerate any organ, fast…why not donate your kidneys?

Prometheus has been a teacher all of his life, nearly. Sometimes, like with teaching Man to harness fire, it got him in trouble. Sometimes, he’s able to make an even bigger difference for his students. Especially when they need a kidney as much as they need knowledge.

FROM MACKEY CHANDLER: Neither Here nor There

This is a stand alone story unrelated to any of my other books or shorts.
So many scientific discoveries have been serendipity rather than a goal to which someone worked as a logical progression. Instead, it was a spill or a misplaced item.
An ingredient measured out in error or from the wrong bottle. Often, a mistake over which someone was bright enough or curious enough to say: “Oops, but that’s interesting, isn’t it?” Uranium ore left next to photo plates, adhesive that wasn’t as permanent as hoped for, but still usefully tacky, or foreign growths in a Petri dish acting strangely…
A major revelation could be a blessing indeed, or if it was big enough to be a life changing development, one might have a tiger by the tail. Wouldn’t that be interesting?

FROM KAREN MYERS: The Ways of Winter – A Virginian in Elfland (The Hounds of Annwn Book 2)

TRAPPED BEHIND ENEMY LINES, CAN HE FIND THE STRENGTH TO DEFEND ALL THAT HE VALUES MOST, OR EVEN JUST TO SURVIVE?

It’s the dead of winter and George Talbot Traherne, the new human huntsman for the Wild Hunt, is in trouble. The damage in Gwyn ap Nudd’s domain reveals the deadly powers of a dangerous foe who has mastered an unstoppable weapon and threatens the fae dominions in both the new and the old worlds.

Secure in his unbreachable stronghold, the enemy holds hostages and has no compunction about using them in deadly experiments with newly discovered way-technology. Only George has a chance to reach him in time to prevent the loss of thousands of lives, even if it costs him everything.

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: COACH

*So I meant to write a post, but the minute we got in the car, the keyboard went weird again. Might be how its held in the car, or something to do with power supply. But since I cant do apostrophes or quotes without parking my finger on the key and pushing a million times, I cant really write in the car. Anyway, I stumbled on this last week, and I’d forgotten I even wrote it. So forgive me for reposting. SAH*

“Sir,” his servant said, bowing very properly. “Your car is waiting.

Kyle looked up from his computer game and blinked. You see, he didn’t have a servant. Or a car. In fact he lived in a spare room in his parents’ house, and worked just enough — usually as a day laborer or temp, to get whatever game he wanted.

Had he fallen sleep in front of the computer? Was this a dream?

The servant wore a tux, or something like that, and he stood expectantly.

Well, if it was a dream, Kyle was going to make the most of it. It seemed more fun than any game he’d ever played.

“Sure,” he said, getting up. “Sure… er…. Jeeves.”

The servant didn’t protest being called Jeeves. Somehow, he’d acquired a little silver tray, with keys on it, and extended it to Kyle. The keys had a weird emblem, with a dragon on it. But they looked classy. Definitely a dream.

The car was waiting outside, in his parent’s driveway, making their BMW look like chopped cabbage. The Car — in Kyle’s mind it was written in capitals — was low slung, curvy, bright green and glistening.

He pressed a button on the keys, and the driver’s door opened with a silent, gliding motion.

Inside, the seats were dark green leather, pliable to the touch. Not like other car seats. More like some very nice leather jackets. The kind Kyle had never been able to afford.

The wheel was covered in a similar material, and was a pleasure to hold.

Afterwards, Kyle couldn’t explain where and how he’d decided to drive. Or how long he’d been away. Driving The Car was like dancing with a beautiful woman. It wasn’t the destination but the journey. They glided together over roads, and he had a memory of sitting in the car, watching the sun set on the water.

When he got back home his parents must have been asleep, because all was quiet.

At breakfast his mother asked him about the car in the driveway. “Oh, it’s a friend’s,” Kyle said. “I’m keeping it while he’s on vacation.”

He was stung his parents accepted it so easily. Like they thought he wouldn’t have the initiative to steal it or something.

That afternoon he went for a drive again, and he stopped by the sea. For the first time, he noticed a golden castle atop a cliff. He blinked at it, in confusion, as he didn’t remember a castle there before, and he was sure his parents had come to this beach with him a couple of times when he was little.

When he got home, his servant was laying out a tux and snowy white, frilled shirt on his bed. “What–” Kyle started.

“It is your clothing for the ball, sir. I assume you’ll want to attend the ball.”

There was an invitation on his desk. It was gilt edged, and written in elegant calligraphy, and invited him to Miss Drake’s come out ball. It was signed by Mr. and Mrs. George Drake.

“Now, sir,” the servant said. “It might be best if you attend, but try not to catch Miss Drake’s attention. While she is very beautiful and very wealthy, if you try to attract her and fail, she will surely eat you.”

Kyle was sure he’d misheard it. Just like he knew without asking that the ball would be in the castle, by the sea.

Indeed, when he got to his favorite parking spot, near the sea, there were valets, ready to park the car. And the path up the cliff was illuminated with beautiful orb lights.

The castle looked far more modern inside than you’d expect. The vast salons had tables set up with food for the guests. All except for one, which was the ball room.

And that’s where Kyle met Dulce Drake. She was–

He stared at her, and he was lost. Flame red hair. A body that he thought only existed in the best drawn computer games. And she wore a cocktail dress the exact color of his car.

He asked her to dance and she agreed, and somehow even though he’d never learned ballroom dances, he could do it perfectly, gliding with her in the ballroom, and being so perfect together that all other couples eventually ceased dancing and just stopped and watched.

He left that night with his mind in a glow, his feet seemingly walking on air.

“Now, sir,” the servant said, materializing in his room, as Kyle came out of the shower. “I’m afraid you shouldn’t have done that. Now Miss Drake will surely eat you.”

He handed Kyle a letter. It was written by George Drake and it pointed out the terms for winning his daughter. Kyle had to have a job that would support him, he had to have an aim in life, and more importantly, he had to defeat her in her dragon form in single combat.

Somehow it all made sense to Kyle. He had no resume to speak of, but he wanted to glide with Miss Drake in the endless ballroom again. So he went out and applied at the first place that said “Help wanted.”

He worked very long hours and learned a lot — it was, as it turned out, a pet shop — including the care and feeding of small animals and… well, everything. After three months, they promoted him to assistant manager, and then the representative for one of the pet food brands asked him if he wanted to come work for them in testing the foods to see what the animals preferred.

At the end of a year, inexplicably — except for the fact that he worked very, very hard, and tried to learn everything — he was doing quite well at the pet food factory. Everyone told him he was headed to VP of the brand.

And he received an invitation to the ball at the castle. Once more, Dulce Drake favored him, and he danced with her all night long.

He went home and drew up a plan to start his own pet food business, all fresh and mostly raw food. It would have to be stored in the refrigerator, which would cause a problem for stores carrying it, but not an insurmountable one. He took his plan to a bank and was almost shocked they gave him a loan.

And after the next ball, he was told he was now at Miss Drake’s mercy. They walked outside to the terrace, and she shifted, without his knowing how, into a giant red dragon, who flamed at him.

Kyle didn’t know what to do. He’d never fought anything except in games. And he didn’t have a magical sword, which he felt would be necessary for killing a magical dragon. Also, he didn’t want to kill her. She was a giant, flaming dragon, but in her eyes, he saw fear. Fear he would let her win, fear he would leave. Just fear. He didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t want to hurt her. The last thing he wanted to do was make her unhappy.

So he ran around, avoiding her flame — he had got pretty good at running around, when he was managing the pet food factory — until he finally ducked under her flame stream to get to her head. She was furious at him, he sensed, but also starting to tire.

He ducked under the flame and kissed the side of her scaly face. “My darling,” he said, “I love you no matter what form you take. And I would never hurt you, but you must stop this.”

There was an hesitation, a shimmer in the air. And then suddenly he was holding Dulce Drake, in her shimmering green dress. And she looked up at him, still afraid but somehow reassured.

When he kissed her, the guests applauded, and George Drake invited him to his office to discuss the future.

They were married a year later, much to the confusion of Kyle’s parents, who didn’t even know he’d been dating. And the servant and the car, somehow, came with the house her parents gave her.

Kyle never asked where they’d come from initially. He thought there were questions best not asked of fate.

The servant and the car had saved him from life in death, and given him Dulce.

And he wouldn’t say she never again turned into a dragon, but he was always able to gentle her back into her sweet human form.

And we wouldn’t say they lived happily ever after. But they were more happy than not. And they raised three sons and two daughters, none of which needed the assistance of a magical car to grow up.

And that’s all anyone can ask for.

Promo post tomorrow. It’s difficult to do on the laptop, and impossible on the laptop while driving, which is when I CAN do it.

So possess your souls in patience.

I’ll be Bach.

John Lennon’s Tooth and The Machinery of Fate A Blast from the Past April 2014

It is a given fact that you guys like to disturb me. I don’t know why that is. I’d take it for granted that, in fact, life disturbs me enough. Take taxes, for instance — oh, wait. Los Federales already did. They have great need of money to eat it or something. Never mind.

Perhaps in an effort to distract me from running around the house repeating RAH’s dictum that you should be wary of strong drink: it might make you shoot at tax collectors and MISS, one of you told me about this dentist in … Alberta? Who bought one of John Lennon’s teeth (who even sells that?) and who plans to “clone John Lennon.”

Okay, as publicity it might be okay, though – I don’t know about you – I’d be hesitant to go to a dentist – any doctor really – who is into macabre souvenirs.

But the idea…

My answer to the reprobate who told me about it was to point out that we already have plenty of broken misfits around. I think he was a little taken aback, so I had to explain.

This is not the case with every one, of course, but speaking for me and a lot of other writers I know – and Lord help us, plastic artists are WORSE – art is what happens when you break somebody, then put them under unbearable pressure. Imagine if you will living, animated, sentient coal, and you’re trying to make diamonds. You apply enormous pressure…

And sometimes you’re going to get the diamond. The misfit will reorganize, re-integrate, find an outlet, and the result is something rarer and far better than mere human coal. But this being humans, most of the time you’re just going to get coal dust or perhaps diamond chips.

The resemblance between artists and madmen has been noted through history, but it’s slightly sideways from the truth. The truth is not that artists are mad, but rather like they achieved a state supra-madness where they function fine because they have that artistic outlet.

Now, I’m not quite that way, but then as you know I’m more craftswoman than artist.

Anyway, what shocked me about that story is that artist or not, Lennon’s success; his fame; his contribution to the world of music and the performing arts, is even more dependent on chance, on just how high that pressure was turned, when.

Regardless of what you think of his solo career it came after the Beatles, and might never have been what it was without the Beatles, and besides the Beatles is arguably his greatest contribution. What I mean is, absent the Beatles, he’d never have been the John Lennon he was, for good or ill. (This is something I tried to capture in Superlamb Banana. And yes, oh my, that does need another cover. Sigh.)

And that surely isn’t expressed in his genes. Unless you think of genes as sort of a magic destiny, the sort that the fairygodmothers used to give people over their cradle.

You might, of course. It’s a new and popular theory. Everything we are and everything we achieve is supposed to be there, in our genes, ready to happen. This Calvinistic (but not religious) view of humanity of course presupposes that the future is pre-written. We are, if you will, lines of code in a program we can’t help follow.

This is very similar to the Portuguese idea of fate which, Portugal being heavily influenced by Islam, is still central to the culture. You hear even educated people say things like “We all follow our fate.”

And it annoys me. It is, if you will, part of the Widgetization of humanity.

The left is going for this in a big way, without ever admitting it’s what they’re doing, just their their assumption of culture being genetic is never admitted to be full on racism. (It is. What else would it be? White people are endlessly protean, but if you are an interesting sub-race/culture, then you have to follow a script and know your place? Straight up racism!)

They’re going for this fate and pre-ordained thing in a big way because it’s a logical follow on their idea that nothing is your fault. If everything is scripted, its’ wrong to hold crimes against criminals. It also fits right in with the number of extreme left people who are radical losers. You might have an IQ of 180 and be living in a trashy apartment and raiding trash cans for garbage, but it was all planned, and it’s not your fault. Oh, yeah, and you can’t escape, so making the effort to actually integrate into society? Not possible. It will only fail.

Of course this destroys human freedom.

I’ve said of this before, that even if it were true (and if it were, we couldn’t prove it, barring proving the entire universe is a computer program) it would be evil to believe it. It would rob all existence of meaning and all humans of individuality. However, what we know seems to show it’s not true. I mean, maybe someone scripted me to have my particular life so far, in which case you have to wonder if they were sane (sorry) but I, like all of us, can see the errors, the failures, the slips – and what might have been. And it was not forbidden to me.

Of course, the jokers who believe this bilge then say that you don’t really think: you just follow a script, and then rationalize your actions.

While a lot of people do this, and a lot of us do it at times in minor stuff — like we forget we were going to make a cake and when we’re halfway through making a soufflé, we do the cat thing “I meant to do that” — I beg to differ. Major decisions are usually weighed by everyone but the very infantile, and the ones who believe that they can’t help themselves.

Again this is the widgetization of people. It’s making people things who would all act the same way given certain genes. Yeah, some twin studies purport to show that, to an extent, but I always wonder about the ones that don’t make cute lifeline stories. Oh, sure, the tendencies are in your genes. But what you make of them is your choice.

You’re not the sum of your ancestry. You’re not a widget. You’re not the slave to the culture you were born in. The future is yours to mold.

And as for John Lennon, poor man, who the heck needs another kid with funny glasses, a lot of uncontrolled aggression and some musical talent? He left children, in the normal way of mankind. Let that be enough for his contribution, and let him rest in peace.

You guys know what I read as the pressure climbs, right? Yep, yep, Jane Austen fanfic. But what happens if the pressure climbs above that and I’m running on empty?

If you said “books about great lost civilizations” you get a prize. I’m not sure what the prize is, but it’s probably a booby prize. Anyway, so in the five days between two drives across the country, I fell into a series of “I totally know where Atlantis is” books.

And I ran into it. Head first.

Noble savages. The whole genre is full of noble savages and their ancient ways of knowing. They’re soft pedaling it on the great goddess these days, possibly because the sound of raucous laughter has made them back off. But oh, the noble savages, and the evil Western civ.

Here let me interject that for just a moment that it’s understandable that all the “ancient lost civilization” people are new agers and often sound like they inhaled a bit too deeply from the peace pipe. Because counter-cultural people — truly counter-cultural — aren’t usually the sanest or most respectable people around. Mostly because if they were they would walk the line, trying to keep their jobs, pensions and benes.

Oh, and don’t sing me your sacrosanct science of archeology song. I still think mostly they’re looking under the street lights, and even so I’ve seen them revise their “certainties” over and over again till what was “science” when I was young is now “we used to think.” The problem with archeology is that it’s just soft enough that a few dominant personalities with a theory can stop new discoveries. Or if you prefer, science changes a grave at a time, and none more than archeology. You people in STEM, even if you dive into their writings, probably don’t catch the whiff of “Stompy Stomp because I said so” that I do, because of having been forced — for my sins — to study literature so they’d let me study languages. But trust me, it’s obvious to me. And impossible to ignore. Like a stompy stompy skunk just got run over.

While on that, and as a side bar, are there ancient lost civilizations? Oh, almost for sure. Humans create civilizations as they breathe. And advances are often lost to cataclysms or self-goal even now.

Was any of these civilizations at our level? No. Or at least highly unlikely, because well… a lot of things had to hit just right to get us where we are when we are. 19th century or even 18th century level? Don’t know. It’s possible. But…. no trace? Well, none we’ve found. Remember however that if it was before the ice age, it could have happened and left no trace. That kind of change scours the landscape. Now Egypt or Babylon level? 99% sure there are some we haven’t unearthed. You see, those tend to be…. smallish in scope, and therefore easier to completely destroy. Trade goods found elsewhere would not be easily found. or if found, they wouldn’t necessarily be obvious. Or classed as “anomalies”.

But that’s not the point. The point is that everyone accepts that lost civilizations don’t exist, and so anyone bucking the “everyone knows” is likely to be slightly peculiar anyway.

Still must it always be noble savages? In the name of the gods of sanity why?

I read well-intentioned descriptions of children burials and how sad the kids’ parents must be, while … well, let’s say I’ve read enough about pre-history to know what a child sacrifice looks like. And the fact this author is incapable of “seeing” it is scary and infuriating. Actually the fact that all of them all the time ignore signs of sacrifice, cannibalism, tribal war, etc.

And it’s like that with everything. Absolutely everything. “Western Civilization evil/bad” and “If only we listened to the wisdom of the noble savages.”

The problem is the noble savages are a myth. And possibly the most harmful myth of all, ammunition for oikophobes and haters of civilization and the west. It also encourages the soft-headed and young to think that if they destroy civilization they’ll get paradise. These born-again Rosseaunians have been plaguing everything that still works and thinking life will improve if they destroy it. Then taking the increased problems as a sign that we need to destroy more. And I’m tired of it.

For the record no ancient civilization other than Israel (and there’s a troubling passage in the Bible about whatshisname promising to sacrifice the first person to come greet him out of his house, and his daughter does. Yes, there are other explanations, and maybe it was just shutting her up in a nunnery or something, which is still weird, but not as much) is free of human sacrifice. We now know even Greece and Rome sacrificed young people when under pressure, duress and fear. I’m not sure how widespread cannibalism is, but it still happens in current day, so why shouldn’t it happen when there was no strong moral repulsion of it? It gallops through African fairytales and legends, for instance. Other things? Well, let me disabuse you: no, it wasn’t white people who brought rape and female exploitation to the Americas. You might not find any references to it in old legends for the same reason you don’t find us stopping to say “Oh, by the way we breathe air.” Also rape and female oppression wasn’t a crime. It was “the way things are.” Pretty much for everyone till those Judeo-Christian weirdos decided that women too were children of G-d and ought to be respected as such. Which threw a spanner in the works right and proper. And even so, because men’s physical strength is and has always been (no matter what lies the moderns tell) immensely larger than women’s, it took centuries — centuries — and technological advances (G-d bless Smith and Wesson) for the idea that raping women or pushing them around was a bad thing to fully percolate through society in the West. Yes, yes, the anglosphere was better, particularly the colonies, but I still grew up with “He beats me but he’s my man” and my family being weird because the women would straight up shiv you if you disrespected them.

Primitives, living close to the land? Oh, please. The only reason that raping a woman was wrong was because it somehow injured the man she belonged to. That’s it. Which is why even in Regency England (or in the Portugal of my childhood) the remedy for rape was to marry the woman to her rapist.

So, great civilization of the past better than the West? Sorry not buying it. Particularly when you’re carefully avoiding seeing the signs of horror and evil.

Someone whose mind and “sense” I greatly respect said he sensed evil all around Gobekli Tepe, which checks with Peter Grant saying that the ruins of Great Zimbabwe are viewed by locals as terrible places where terrible stuff happened. I know how I react to eve pictures of Aztec pyramids. Is it because I know what happened there? Sure. Probably. Maybe. And?

Civilizations can be the best of their time, and technically accomplished and still be rank and utter horrors.

A lot of people, even the right, look for perfection in the past. It won’t fadge. No the Victorians weren’t better than us. The eighteenth century wasn’t better than us. And no, the early twentieth century wasn’t more “moral” than us. Oh, sure, the ethos, the in your face public displays were. And they hadn’t (yet) been invaded by an oikophobic and destructive elite who tried to make a mockery and a destruction of everything good and moral.

But the real people, the people living day to day were about the same. The US remains the most religious place on Earth and, look you, Christendom remains Christendom. Yes, people will say they’re agnostic or atheists in polls a lot more because in the past it was frowned upon and no it’s lionized. But what they feel and think, at base level hasn’t changed a whole heck of a lot. We still have our fair share of saints, even if low key and not talking about it. And they had their high share of scoundrels, perverts and evil people, same as we do. It’s just in the past they used to hide.

(Yeah, yeah, church attendance is down. Have you looked at the mainstream churches recently? Because I have to make a constant effort to find the one of my denomination that’s not insane at that moment, and sometimes this means driving two hours to service. If it weren’t because I feel I need it I wouldn’t bother, either.)

The kids, whatever the media tells you, are still all right.

There is no perfection in the past. The savages were by and large less noble than we are. And our recent ancestors too. Which doesn’t justify erasing the memory of their great deeds, btw. But it also doesn’t justify treating ourselves as if we can’t achieve greatness.

There is no perfection in the future either. Only fools, children and leftists (BIRM) believe that. Don’t aim for perfection. Or do, but know you won’t achieve it.

If anything requires that “everyone” does something to achieve it, it’s not achievable. If you think any society is a failure because there’s the occasional rape or murder, or because your neighbor is a rough-talking heathen, you’re just going to enshrine barbarism.

Instead improve what you can. Do the best you can.

Oh, and do study the past and learn from it, both the good and the bad, without trying to worship your ancestors. That was always a crazy heresy.

And please, please, please, get some sane archeologists in the game. (Which might require taking it from academia.)

Now I’m going to return to writing my fascinating and not wholly noble savages. Catch you later.

*We’re finalizing our preparations for LC. OBVIOUSLY we’re not leaving in the morning. (Work stuff. Not mine.) Anyway, for those of you making it to the range, this seems like an important post. I’ll try to write one tomorrow. Time not guaranteed, as we’ll be driving and sometimes connection is iffy. Same Friday. Anyway, stay safe. Practice responsible bang therapy. (Not that kind of bang, you sickos. Well, that kind of bang maybe too, but I don’t want to hear about it. Ew.) – SAH*

Range PPE by David Bock

I’m sure the majority of our regular readers are aware of the importance of range safety.  Most people know this means following range instructions from the range safety officer and/or match director, keeping your muzzle down range, and other basic safe gun handling.

But there’s more to it than that.  Range safety also means personal protective equipment (or PPE) which includes dressing properly for the range.

I’d like to think everyone knows about the importance of eye and ear protection, but experience as an instructor and Range Safety Officer has taught me better.

While many modern plastic prescription lenses have similar attributes to safety glasses, they are not the same thing.  For one, regular eyeglasses do not generally have side shields.  There are too many stories of people getting eye damage from a piece of bullet jacket, an empty casing, or a ricochet hitting them from the side.

Prescription safety glasses are available as well as regular safety glasses that will fit over your everyday glasses.  Yes, they might not be as comfortable, but I’m willing to lay odds they’re more comfortable than an eye patch.

Moving on to ear protection, hearing damage is cumulative and permanent and over time, it affects us all.

The unit of measurement for sound is the decibel. The decibel scale is logarithmic, this means that a change from 10 to 20 decibels is not double, but ten times the volume. Another aspect of hearing damage from sounds is duration.  Exposure to a lower volume sound for a longer period of time can be just as damaging to our hearing as exposure to a loud sound for a shorter time.

Any sound in excess of 140 decibels, without hearing protection, can cause instant hearing damage.  A .22 rimfire pistol generally exceeds 150 decibels at the muzzle. The volumes go up from there.

Both the National Institute of Health and Safety (NIOSH) and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) have more information on both hearing loss and hearing protection.

Here’s a decibel chart with a specific emphasis on firearms.

Here’s a more generalized chart of common noise levels.

Hearing protection is listed with a noise reduction rating, or NRR value. For hearing protection to be good for use while shooting, it should have a NRR in the 20s at least.

Keep in mind that the actual decibel reduction is not what‘s listed on the package.  To determine this value, take the NRR number (as decibels), subtract seven, and then divide by two. As shown in this 3M Hearing Protection Guide (PDF warning).  So a product with an NRR rating of 27 would reduce volume by 10 decibels.

Some people like to double up their hearing protection, wearing plugs and muffs, for example. However, the two ratings aren’t added together, five decibels of protection are added to whichever element has the higher NRR value.

In addition to these two main elements, there’s also making wise clothing choices.

The general recommendation is to wear a long sleeved, high collar shirt, long pants, closed toed shoes, and a hat.  Avoid low cut tops.

All of this it to keep brass off our skin.  Brass gets hot when fired.  Anyone who’s ever gotten a piece of brass down their shirt knows just how uncomfortable this can be.

One of the main benefits of the metallic cartridge case is that it takes a significant amount of heat with it when it leaves the gun. I don’t think any of us want that heat transferred to our skin. As I was told during firefighter training more than once “people cook just like chicken.”  I’d say more like pork, but whatever.

There are many good reasons to wear proper protective equipment while shooting.  It won’t protect us completely, but it can go a long way to making our experience safer and more enjoyable.

It never fails. Never. If a site is gaining popularity with the “to the right of Lenin” crowd, some expose, sometimes a lot of them come out explaining how they’re out to get us, it’s the most terrible thing ever and it’s a trap. And people run.

And this is the most stupid thing ever. Somewhere between a punishing sites that encourage or tolerate us, and doing the left’s bidding by allowing them to take over spaces by running before them like scared sheep.

For years now some of you — you know who you are — have thrown hissy fits and ranted at Amazon.

So Amazon is soft left. Cool-ee-oh. Cute story bro. Note that most — not all but most — of the cases of their taking down books that are “right wing” are manufactured by agent provocateurs who make sure they violate the rules just-so and then act shocked, shocked, they were taken down and insist it must be left wing bias.

Okay, I haven’t looked at all of them, and one or two of them might be true. There are — we know this — bad agents embedded at Amazon, and MOSTLY there are stupid agents, meaning people scared of “offending” because they are not American and don’t understand America.

To be fair on this, because I still lurk, forgotten, in leftist groups, and they complain of as many “politically motivated” take downs. And most of them also aren’t.

But the point is, let’s assume that Amazon really is politically biased. (Well, they are, in the sense they hired people from trad pub to help run the book side. At best they’re soft left) and will at some point in the future and for no reason take down every single author to the right of Lenin and forbid us the site.

Well, that would in fact be a terrible thing, and I’m not sure how I’d deal. I have plans and could probably shift, but it would still hurt for a year or two.

Here’s the thing though: that hasn’t happened yet. And until that happens, Amazon if the 800 lb gorilla of indie publishing.

If I run now, I’ll still sell to my hard core fans, sure. And maybe some of the softer core ones if I had some publicity efforts we’re contemplating anyway. But I will lose maybe half of my readers. These are the casual “Oh, I see that name and kind of remember I liked her last book. I’ll buy or at least borrow.” And I’ll (listen closely to this) lose 90% of my ability to get new readers who just stumble on me on Amazon.

Question: Why would I do that to myself? On purpose? Have I developed a sudden allergy to cash? Taken a vow of poverty? Really hate my family and want them to suffer? Which one is it? Because barring one of those, I’m being a dumbf*ck by running before I’m kicked out.

There is one semi-valid point to be made for running: don’t give money to those who hate us.

This one DOES apply to Amazon, but in Amazon’s case, it is negated by “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.” Sure I’m giving them (some) money. But without them I get almost no money. To run now would be to take poison and hoping my enemy would die.

That last point applies FAR MORE to places like Facebook, which are already in decline/present few opportunities for promotion.

So why do I stay there? Because I have a reasonable contingent of my readers for whom that’s the main social media. I’m not leaving them behind. But…. giving them money! Oh, please. Mostly these days I go there to share posts or promo books. I buy nothing they advertise. Sure, they’re still collecting data. Most of it is bad (I checked. For instance, I’m a political “moderate.” Which is actually true, mind, but not in THEIR reckoning for sure.) So the only money I’m “giving” them is adding one to their numbers. What? You think they can’t just invent more? Why do you think they don’t erase obviously dead people and pets? Yeah.

Mostly I stay in places like Facebook because I don’t want to give up the platform. If no one there were reading my blogs, they wouldn’t work so hard on doing things like making sure no picture (and sometimes no specific post) show in my link. I’m not leaving. They’d have to kick me out. (If you’re a private person, not a public figure, of course, that’s completely different.)

But recently I’ve noticed a trend of attacking sites that are specifically either ours or specifically secure.

I actually fell for the first of these, Proton mail, which was alleged to have rolled over and finked. It took me months to find out I was actually wrong about it, because the precipitating incident was that they REFUSED to roll over fink for (I THINK. I’ve slept since then) the UK government. And I should have known it was stupid, because if both are on Proton mail it’s end to end encrypted and if broken into it gibberishes (totally a word) itself. So even the owners couldn’t fink. If they wanted to. The encription is based on YOUR password, which they don’t know.

Now, mind you, I have other problems with Proton, mainly the fact it does NOT notify me I have messages, and being ADD AF I forget to check it. But you can get me to answer by pinging me on hotmail and telling me you emailed proton. (Yes, cumbersome. Deal.)

Signal is the same on end to end encryption and I’ve recently seen a flurry of screaming that it’s a trap, and they work for the left and…. Listen, you rockheads, I don’t care if half the left invests in it, they can’t read your messages, because it’s encrypted end to end. On your password. They couldn’t if they wanted to.

The latest target of the screaming mimmies is substack.

Is substack perfect? Oh, heck no. They’re technologically kludgy and weird. Financially too, in the sense that they could be easier at setting how you’ll get paid.

However they do not in fact have a political bias, as in banning what you say. Might they have it in one case or two during COVID? sure. Possible. But as we now know, den fuhrer bootsies were actively telling platforms to take down “misleading” “disinformation” or the government would shut them down. I haven’t examined the cases of substack take down and can’t be sure it was political. (Because most of the time it isn’t. It’s florid politics, and behind the scenes violating rules to ensure they’re taken down. Almost like they’re trying to scare us into panicking and running.) HOWEVER if those were political, they are still within the margin of error, and all the articles about them are GROSSLY overblown.

Being one of the most popular blogging platforms, if you run from them, who are you benefiting? If the right runs the left, by definition owns the field and really this time sets the rules so you can’t get in.

Heck, take WordPress, which is no angel. All the cases of “political take down” I dove down were in fact like Amazon’s. “I was taken down for my brave article about Covid” and you’re all sympathetic. Then you dive down the site, and in the side bar, under “about us” or “interests” or whatever you find actual incitement to violence which is the real reason they were taken down.

Remember the guy some of you mentioned and who had in fact been linking my articles for months, and I allowed the links to show, because I assumed what I saw at a cursory glance, was what the blog was: a place that showcased links to me, and Ace and a few others? When he was taken down and you guys linked him, he came to the comments to cry. But something he said — I don’t remember what — hit me wrong, so I went to check his site. And oh, dear Lord, in the About Us and other side bars, it was a fest of stuff that yes, of course it’s going to get banned, including explicit triple x pron.

In other words, the site had been setup as bait to have word press ban them, at which point the guy could spook the right by claiming it was all political and look how they are unreliable. When I called him on it in the comments and blocked him, he left one more comment which he didn’t approve, about how ah ah you sheep are so easy to scare.

Which I remember.

Yes, WordPress is annoying, but most of it is stupid programmer tricks, trying to “improve” it and making it worse and worse. Even though they are not explicitly for us, nor designed to attract us.

Sure, they play with my numbers, though that might be google. And other stupid tricks. But I’m still here.

Here’s the thing: If we run, they don’t have to kick us out. If we abandon speech platforms? They don’t have to censor us. If we spook at the first hint or a rumor? They don’t have to make an effort. And no one will try to fill our niche market, because we’ll be too unreliable.

I understand being paranoid. We’ve been under sustained attack for 100 years. But right now, just by refusing to run, speaking out and rewarding platforms that allow us to speak out? We’re winning. The culture is turning. Politics inevitably follows culture. not the other way around.

Sure, sometimes we’re going to get hit. Keep backups of your content so you can move quickly. But it’s not worth it to move preemptively, and it is in fact BAD FOR YOU and for all of us.

The fact the left is now trying to demonize ALL internet usage — No really — we really are winning this thing.

Look at what was suggested for me by pocket last night:

“The internet is evil, you stupid prolls! It will give you apnea! It makes you ungovernable! Stop using the internet and listen to us!”

Keep on keeping on. To quote Ian “It’s scared.”

If forced, then move, but until then refuse to be spooked.

Be not afraid. Fear plays on the side of the enemy. We’re not afraid. We’re the ones they’re afraid of.

You got this.

When I was in highschool, back in pre-history (the 1970s were pretty barbaric!) the hotness in psychology and sociology and frankly in public discourse was Freudianism. It had been completely internalized by then, proceeding from the halls of academia to the popular imagination.

If I had a dime for every time I was told I only wrote poetry (or novels. And boy, were they wretched) because I was sublimating my sexual impulses, and how I’d be “normal” and well adjusted if I simply slept with everyone who asked, I’d have…. well… I’d never have had to work, and I’d still be spending those dimes.

I know there are people here who are older than I, but I don’t know to what extent that pervaded the US back then. And I suspect the young people never really encountered it in that form, because by then it had sunk even deeper into popular culture and become non-explicit. It’s the underpinning of movies (boys/men only care about getting laid. Women…. well, behave like no woman ever, see any of the series where all women care about is getting laid, too.) and tv and books, but it’s not clearly articulated.

It was pretty pervasive and impossible to ignore. There was a sub-genre of “intellectual” books and movies where the murderer killed because he didn’t have enough sex, or not his preferred type of sex, and “cold” women (who didn’t want to indulge whatever crazy sexual fantasy the guy preferred) were guilty for every mass murderer ever as well as every other social ill.

There was also the gross subset, the reaction to which causes the spasm of accusations of child abuse in the eighties: the idea that if children were exposed to all kinds of sex very young they’d not have repressions (or in the lingo of the day “hangups”) and would therefore be perfectly well adjusted and jealousy, envy and aggression would just vanish. (This was perfectly integrated in the Communist Manifesto where Marx explained why if people gave him everything and every woman slept with him, the world would be paradise. And okay, sure, I exaggerate, but not by much to be fair.)

It really was everywhere. It’s still everywhere, but not completely articulated as “if>then.” And since it’s mated in people’s heads with the whole (also unspoken) Marxist concept that for every situation there is an oppressed and an oppressor, and if something is wrong, you must find the person/group to blame for it, it’s going to be a load of trouble as we try to right this ship and recover from the 20th century.

In most problems, there isn’t a clear cut oppressed/oppressor dynamic. My instinct for just about everything is to blame the government, and it’s amazing how often that works, but mostly that is because most human problems have their basis in how humans are — the human condition, if you will — but governments throughout history have tried to “improve” on that, and the accretion of bad ideas just builds and builds and builds, till yeah, it’s the government. Then that changes and we get other bad ideas accreting. Mass solutions fit nobody.

Anyway, what brought this rant about was this:

There is a link above the image, which gives you the context, but that’s not the important part. The important part is one of the answers to this, which was so wrong it wasn’t even wrong. As in it was literally “None of this makes any sense” and it had its root both in freudianism and Marxist dualism, both of which, by providing a facile veneer of intellectualism to very simple thinking have penetrated the back-mind of the west to the point they’re like a sort of brain parasite, eating away at what still functions.

As for the tweet above, there is nothing wrong with it/no falsehood detected. Those are indeed the sounds of vibrant goblin neighborhoods the “diverse” and “vibrant” areas of our towns, ever more infused with newcomers, newly arrived from third world shitholes.

The problem was that in the comments, someone who I’m sure thinks he’s “right wing” and “conservative” took offense with the fact that all the examples of bad behavior she cites “are male.” First of all, I can’t find where she mentions the sex of the overdoses. And I believe the “he” for schizophrenic is more in line of the old grammatical rule that if you don’t know the sex referred to it’s “he”. Second, as for males beating females, way for this “based” and “Chad” dude to tell everyone that he never actually lived in a poor neighborhood. Because, yeah, males beat females. A LOT. It takes a high degree of Western civilization for the opposite to ever happen. Reason being for males to get beaten, they must HOLD BACK. Which means they have internalized “men don’t hit women”. Now, sure, some other guy piled on saying she doesn’t have some chick yelling at her daughters, and a cat fight. But AGAIN way to tell us you’ve never lived in a poor neighborhood. Those dulcet sounds get lost in the death-like-screams of some woman getting beat within an inch of her life. Or on Saturday night, multiple women getting beat within an inch of her life. Because the imports from the third world take full advantage of males being bigger and stronger than females, and take out their frustrations on their wives like American men might relax by playing video games, or watching a fairly violent movie. It’s just what they do. Particularly on a weekend night. (Having grown up in a western but strange country and in unenlighted times, this happened in the village too. Drink a little, beat your wife, and other chilling that happened on weekends. Not in my family, but that was why we were Odd. Also why our women were known and feared, because we must have some weird magic.)

Anyway, the point here is that out of a cogent point this guy saw only “she’s attacking males.” Because he feels — possibly rightly — oppressed, so it must be females doing it.

Then he segwayed into this very weird thing about how she was only mad at men because she couldn’t get a “Chad” to sleep with her and had to sleep with inferior males.

I’m not going to reproduce his response, because he also threw in a bit of anti-semitism, because why not, if you’re going to be an idiot be an idiot all the way. Also, of course, since all oppression is binary, if he isn’t rich it’s because “reee! Jewish financiers control everything.” So, of course. But if you page down through the answers, you’ll inevitably find him.

The point is that it’s a bizarre response. The Marxist duality is so ingrained in the idiot that he can’t even read what’s actually written. Like the left, he just scans for pronouns, and if those are bad and denote “bad” things, then the poster must be anti-male, instead, of you know, having lived in low rent neighborhoods and correctly reproducing the noisiest type of malfeasance you can hear in those neighborhoods. (Because most of them are stocked with third world males.)

AND THEN when assigning the reason why a woman would do that, (Why she “hates” males, because that’s what he thinks) he must default to stupid background Freudianism. I.e. if there’s any evil or any envy or anything wrong, it’s because someone isn’t getting as much/the kind of sex they want.

This reduces humans to the most basic, instinct-driven animal.

It is by the way wrong, if you wonder. Heinlein might have said that everything humans did was a mating dance, and maybe he was right, in the sense horoscopes are “right” and all sorts of models for societal things are “right” — like the fourth turning one, or the strong/weak men one, or– — in the sense that if you abstract past a certain point and ignore non-conforming data everything will fit. But I can tell you that while I’ve done things to attract a man’s attention, including at one point putting stick on labels with eyes on his monitor, and perching a saucy vintage ladies hat on it, with a label underneath saying “the other woman” it’s mostly THAT man. Telling stories isn’t a mating dance. It’s what my brain does to amuse itself so it doesn’t die of boredom. And making say little stuffed animals would be very weird as a mating dance, since guys don’t even see them. (Not to mention painting rocks. Or refinishing furniture, which would scare off most guys, and just causes the one guy I care about to tell me to stop doing it because it makes my asthma worse.) And if Dan is doing programming as a mating dance, he’s doing it wrong. Not to mention the weird side-obsessions he gets into and then MUST tell me about. Last week he was “shopping” for a camper van. NOT REALLY because we don’t want one, much less can afford it, but he dropped down that rabbit hole, and HAD to tell me everything about it.

If there are men and women out there who are SOLELY interested in sex and who do everything in the interest of getting laid, I’ve never come upon them, or not outside a specific, late teens early twenties age range.

If humans were only interested in sex and sex solved everything, then humans would still be in a cave somewhere, and the most daring activity would be to raid the next band for women. Sure, great development of arrows and flint knives, not to mention clubs. (It just occurred to me the pursuit of getting laid always involves clubs. Sigh. I need more coffee, don’t I?) But you know? baskets, pottery, fishing, etc. would long since have fallen by the way side. (Hey, other humans are tasty, no need for anything else.)

But here’s the thing: A lot of the people who think they’re “fighting back” against the leftist culture that reduces humans to sex objects and pits a human group against the other are still refusing to think.

We were all taught Marxism and Freudianism to such an extent most of us aren’t aware how much of it there is, lurking in the back spaces of our minds and polluting everything.

Be aware that the reverse of a lie is…. still a lie. And fighting lies with lies perpetuates hell on Earth, just a slightly differently-targeted hell.

But in the end, in the war between men and women everyone loses. There isn’t some perfect third group (regardless of what idiots say) to come and take the spoils. And women “winning” the superior position or men “winning” the superior position still lose the important part of relationships and marriage which is trust, confidence, and the ability to absolutely trust the other. The big advantage to being a species with two sexes (other than reproductive) is the ability and need to enter a symbiotic relationship with someone who is different. Which in turns makes it easier to deal with all that aren’t “us.” And therefore communicate and expand, and yes, colonize, which has been the advanced edge of civilization.

Don’t kneejerk to “it’s men” or “it’s women.” In the current system no one wins, but the two sides are kept forever at the other’s throat. (Okay, the Marxists win.) And things get worse every generation.

We need to look beyond the binary, and — to evoke Rex Stout — to look at humans as having other interests beyond the instincts we share with dogs.

Otherwise the Marxists and popular Freudians win. And nothing changes.