No, this post actually has practically nothing to do with conventional religion. It has a lot to do with worship and the vision of religion.

First of all let’s establish what politics is, from my POV. I don’t like politics, unlike what you might believe from reading this blog. I do watch it, though. Because if I turn my back on it, it might decide to take an interest in me. I learned that early, you see.

So I watch it obsessively and try to guess what it’s up to, not because I love it or think it is the salvation of mankind, but because I think government is one of the most dangerous forces known to men, arguably made more so by Marxist philosophy and the super-sized countries made possible by mass communication and incentivized by mass production. And politics is the language spoken by government, the way it telegraphs its intent, and the way it is sometimes controlled — but mostly not — by the will of the people it governs.

Second of all, I think government by and large is not a force for good. In fact, I think the larger and more powerful the government the less of a force for good it is.

I’m not going to say government is unnecessary, but its ability to interfere in the life of the citizens should go down the farther away and larger it is. Like this: your local government might be able to give you some aid in case of trouble or tell you to move that pile of trash from your yard already. However your national government has no business doing either, since the local conditions might be totally opaque to it.

In fact, national governments should be able to do little more than negotiate with foreign governments to (hopefully) prevent war. And command the defense forces in case that’s impossible.

But Sarah, you’ll say, what about the ultimate safety net for families and children? What about ensuring our food supply is safe, our medicines real, and our environment clean? What about some basic over-arching measures to ensure industry isn’t exploiting workers? What about–

Yeah. Dig into any of those and you’ll find your national government is in fact doing more harm than good and in point of fact destroying the country’s ability to feed itself, medicate itself, or have enough energy to subsist. Let alone making it impossible for Americans to have A manufacturing industry of any size and sending all our stuff-making abroad.

What does this mean?

It means that politically I’m going to incline to the politician running who wants to do the least stuff. Yes, I’d be ecstatic if someone were actually running like Milei in Argentina, who wanted to take a chainsaw to our federal government. If someone promised that, and I believed him to any extent, I’d be the first one in line to vote for him. Heck, I might be ringing doorbells for him from the moment I woke up to when I dropped in bed.

Which brings us to the important question: If such a person were running, would I think he was a new messiah, and worship him, or belong to a “another Milei” cult? Would I think he was amazing in all things, and every word that came from his lips sacred?

Don’t be ridiculous. I’d be working for him because he would be my instrument. No more, no less. And I might be very protective of him if he were the only one promising chainsaw-licious government cut backs. Which is not the same as thinking he’s perfect, just that right then he’d be the best we had.

Also I want to make a point here that if one side running are outright communists, talking wishfully of getting rid of the constitution and redistributing wealth according to “oppression” (which is an hereditary quality and linked to race and other characteristics in their eyes) and the person running against them is the emissary of hell, I, like Churchill, will at least say something nice about the devil. Because old scratch can be gotten rid of with prayer and holy water, while communists have to be gotten rid of with lots of blood, and often leave a country in no shape to survive. (And in the case of the US will destroy the whole world as they starve us, because we feed the world. And provide innovation to the world, too.)

There is nothing — NOTHING — that pisses me off more than being accused of being in a “cult of Trump”. Not because it hits “too close to the truth, uh?” as idiots will claim, but because it’s like being accused of being secretly a unicorn. It’s both terrifying in revealing how out of touch my opponents are, and insane to a level that makes me sure our polity is headed to hell.

I’ve recently been accused of this by both pro-lifers — will you people PLEASE stop letting yourselves be spun by the left? Please? Half of the things you’re reacting to are the usual truncated statements. The others are just your wanting stuff that can’t happen, not yet, and for which the remedy is to continue fighting — and by the intellectual right who is very afraid any sign of supporting Trump will get the left to call them stupid. Apparently this is different from supporting W or Romney of McCain because reasons. Also Trump is so uncouth and speaks so loud, and has orange hair, donchaknow? And he didn’t even graduate from the ivy leagues, the dunce.

And yes, I’m quite sure of how I’m classifying these people, because these are people I KNOW and have known online for years. My sympathy in this case is with the pro-lifers, partly because they’re sick and tired of fighting. But I’ll remind them Trump allows them to continue fighting. The other side means millions of term-babies killed (Partly also because the economy will encourage more abortions) and also a lot more pro-life activists in jail. Neither of the sides is what you’d want. I GET THAT. But unless you have a raging Jones for martyrdom, vote for the guy that allows you to continue fighting for what’s right.

The people who are trying to signal how much better and more INTELLECTUAL than Trump they are can eat my shorts. They are the same old tired midwits terrified someone will find out they got good grades by kissing up to teach. Again, I repeat, they can eat my shorts.

Do I love Trump? No. There are things that worry me about him, particularly in this campaign. I do not like the alliance with RFK and Tulsi Gabbard. It might be needed, but so was our alliance with Stalin in WWII (maybe.) Doesn’t mean it won’t cast a long and very bad shadow into the future.

Does Trump say and do things that annoy me? Sure. But he also proved in his first term that my perception of what is possible and what is right is not always true.
I didn’t understand until I saw him fight Russia (who in case everyone else has forgotten, on the right and left, engaged in a lot of provocations and small scale attacks on our troops during Trump’s tenure. Just nothing on the scale of invading a country) in the way that really hurt them: with money. By securing the US energy independence, Trump could take away Russia’s main source of income. Also could threaten the Middle East with poverty enough to cow them. All of what he said about this, about immigration, about Europe seemed wrong, but it turned out he was approaching the matter as a businessman, not a politician. It was an untried option I’d never thought of. Did it work perfectly? Eh. But he did have some notable successes.

However, right now? He’s the best on offer. And we actually know how he would govern, because we know how he governed.

Was his tenure perfect? Oh, please. And yeah, there were missteps. However, a lot of what he achieved (peace in the middle east, US energy independence) I’d have thought UNACHIEVABLE.

If he manages to have as good a term as his first, it will go a long way towards recovering from the near-mortal blow of the Bidentia’s tenure. If it’s better than that, I’ll be the one in the backyard throwing up fireworks.

And if it’s worse?

It’s still likely to be better than Unrealized Capital Gains Que Mala and her racial game of spoils. And it’s likely to be far better in not totally revoking the Constitution.

When Kamala says things like this, casually, and seemingly without understanding how horrific it is:

Kamala Harris: “He [Musk] has lost his privileges.” Can someone please explain to her that freedom of speech is a RIGHT, not a “privilege”? Kamala Harris: “There has to be a responsibility placed on these social media sites to understand their power.” Translation: “If they don’t police content to conform to government-approved narratives, they will be shut down.”

And our system of vote is binary, I will vote for her opponent. And if I don’t bestir myself to actually ring doorbells for him, I will at least refrain from hitting him over every little misspoken word. And I will maybe say a few kind things about him, and praise him where he deserves.

Once he’s won, and the spectrum of Communism is banished for another 4 years (We need to fix our schools. Abolishing the dept of education AND teaching colleges is a good start) I will go back to nipping at his heels and complaining about bone headed moves. And pray for someone else not a communist in four years.

For now? A cult? You’ve got to be kidding me. When I make jokes about naming a cat Orange Cat Bad they’re that: jokes. (Though Indy taking apart his food dispenser might be worthy of being called that.) And that’s naming a cat, not a baby or a car even.

If your only explanation for your opponents not agreeing with you is that “they joined a cult” you might be in one.

Sure, I see lots of defects in the logic of the left, but I can explain what they are, and where they came from. And if I think that Marxism is a Christian heresy, I have more backing for it than “they joined a cult.”

And for that matter, when seemingly rational people I’ve known for years behave in a way I don’t understand, I look for an explanation, rather than assume they were snatched up by pod people. (I often don’t find them. Sometimes the explanation seems to be “X broke people badly” — where x is most recently 2020 — and I’m still sure they are wrong. But often I also can tell why they have this particular blind spot. Again, it’s not “joined a cult.”)

But Trump is not a messiah. He’s not even the best I could hope for. That might be Rand Paul, if he shed his internationalist delusions (he might have recently. I haven’t followed very closely. Mostly because the poor man hasn’t been the same since he was attacked in his yard) but it’s certainly not Trump.

Trump is at best the instrument the blind fury of the long-denied people grabbed onto. He was aided into his first nomination by his media-persona name recognition. And he’d probably have governed just slightly to the right of Hillary Clinton if the left hadn’t gone insane against him and aroused his spite.

His second nomination was baked in, regardless of what people thought could be, by his name recognition alone. I realized that when I had people come and install the fridge and chatted with them about the primaries. They knew who Trump was, like him or hate him. DeSantis was DeWho? And “Oh, he governs…. Georgia? Florida?” In fact my biggest question about the DeSantis run and how vicious his surrogates got was “What on Earth possessed him to think he could get the nomination this year?” Yes, it could be positioning for 2028, but dear Lord, surely he knew that the best thing for that would be what he’s doing now: being a good governor to Florida, who makes the left’s teeth ache.

So, he’s what we have. Sure, I’d prefer a chainsaw. But all we really have right now is this weed whacker. And the best we can do is use the weed whacker to advantage to at least clear some of the overgrowth of government and regulations.

Perfect governance doesn’t exist this side of heaven, for the simple reason governance is of humans for humans, and humans are not and can not be perfect.

Whether I live another year or another 30, I’ll probably die mid-fight for a smaller, more localized government, and taking authority away from the federal branch. It is the best I can do.

But until I die, I will fight against a communist take over of the US. And if that means voting for someone who is only slightly to the right of the other candidate? Sure. I’ll do that. I’ll even say nice things about them.

Can’t spatter me with mud more than doing that with W did, right?

So, do the best you can and pray for a miracle. I’m assured G-d looks out for fools, drunkards and the United States of America.

Let’s hope He’s not lost patience yet.

(This is an older writing of Tom’s, but I thought it was still worth looking into. From the questions you can tell it’s from before the ongoing disaster of the Biden Junta, but if it was ever published — he’s not sure — it was on twitter. So I thought it needed wider dissimination.)

Why We Still Believe There Was Election Fraud in 2020 – Tom Kratman

So why, after all this, do so many of us _still_ believe the election was stolen?

In the first place, there are two things we mean by “the election was stolen.” They’re mutually reinforcing, yes, but they’re not the same. The first of these is via the influence of media and social media. It was not illegal for them to have been Biden’s campaign, but they _were_ Biden’s campaign. What that means, in practice, is that they used their privileges under the first amendment to violate the intent of the first amendment. I say “privileges,” by the way, rather than “rights” because by their conduct they have undermined the first amendment to the point we can calmly consider killing it, as regards the media, as so many lefties want it to be killed for the common citizenry. It no longer serves its purpose.

The second factor is our belief that actual spurious ballots were introduced into the system by both mailing in and other means. And the numbers were not even that large; Trump “lost” by about twelve thousand in Georgia, eighty thousand in Pennsylvania, and under twenty-one thousand in Wisconsin. Let’s not pretend that those were particularly difficult numbers to have illegally come up with.

But there’s not a shred of evidence…the courts…

Look, friends, we live in the age of MiniTru and Comrade Ogilvy. We have precisely zero sources of reliable direct information. Don’t believe me?

Answer these questions:

1. What was on Hunter Biden’s laptop?

2. What party and philosophy ruled the states that drove United States’ Covid stats into the stratosphere?

3. Who took the blame?

4. How much evidence did there turn out to be of Russian interference with the 2016 election?

And, conversely:

5. How many Arab states has Israel recently signed peace treaties with?

6. Who got NAFTA replaced with a treaty that more carefully guards US workers’ interests?

7. Who hasn’t gotten us into any new wars?

8. Under which presidency did the United States regain energy independence, so we DON’T get into any new wars?

9. Why are illegal immigrants largely going or staying home?

10. And how much do we hear about this: USPS worker charged with dumping ballots, as mail carriers perform extra trips before Election Day | Fox News

And, if you don’t know the answers to these, ask yourself why you don’t?

Moreover, why did Facebook and other social media suppress any notion of election fraud? One doesn’t need to suppress a lie; “a lie will not stand.” There’s only benefit in suppressing “inconvenient truths” (to steal another fraudulent Democrat meme).

Of course, when you control the media, a lie most certainly WILL stand…if it’s your lie.

Instead, we are thrown back on secondary increments of data, because the left isn’t clever enough – well, not YET, anyway – to have doctored those. (“Call for Comrade Ogilvy from Democratic Party Headquarters! Comrade Ogilvy please pick up the red phone in the lobby…”)

Among the secondary sources of information are:

The railroading of secession through various Democrat-run southern states by careful selection of those who would be allowed into the secession conventions.

Tammany Hall.

“Vote often and early for James Michael Curley.”

The Battle of Athens and the E. H. Crump (Democratic Party) political machine.

Cook Country, which is to say, Chicago, 1960.

Princess Nudelman, the dead goldfish (yes, I know the fish didn’t cast a vote. What’s important is that someone TRIED).

Look at the heritage.org election fraud map.

In short, election fraud is so completely a part of the Democratic Party and the left, more generally, and has been for so long, that it would only be remarkable if there were a close election where there wasn’t any. We expect it. If we can’t easily see it, we expect it to be only because it’s a little better hidden than usual.

The Democratic Party is and always has been a party of corruption, heavy on power, short of or bereft of principle. The only difference between it and any given sub-Saharan African kleptocracy is in the shade of skin.

But what about the courts?

No, wait; you didn’t know that the legal profession is up there – or down there – with college sociology departments for its tendency to lean left? You didn’t know that coming up with direct evidence is often quite difficult? Investigations take years to uncover single instances of discrete bank fraud; we’re expected to find evidence of massive voter fraud quickly? See below.

Then, too, one might well wonder just _which_ John Roberts it was that visited Epstein’s pedophile island. Epstein didn’t waste his efforts on nobodies, you know; oh, no, he turned over the use of his harem of barely post-pubescent teens to the already powerful and the up and – you should pardon the expression – comers.

I don’t know that it was him. I will not insist it was him. I want to see an honest investigation into whether or not it was him.

Of course, to be more fair than he probably deserves, Roberts probably does think he’s heading off a civil war. He’s wrong, of course, as Roger Taney was before him; he is bringing the war closer and ensuring it will be worse.

Difficult to come up with evidence? Enter the mail-in ballot, a positive Godsend for would be election fraudsters. Just think about what’s required to prove effective fraud on that scale. It’s not the mere one hundred and thirteen thousand vote that allegedly swung things in Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and Georgia.

We’re not talking here about railroading Jefferson Washington Lincoln III, the small-time dope dealer and occasional fence. Oh, no; this is a much more – an infinitely more – difficult problem.

For one thing, the investigators would have to scrub the voting rolls themselves. Then they’d also have to scrub the obituary columns and social security death register for the last century or so…or three. Add in the birth and naturalization records. They’d have to match not just the one hundred and thirteen thousand votes in question, but every mail in ballot AND every other ballot too. (No, the mere likelihood of most of the fraud coming via mail does not rule out more traditional methods.) And they’d have to do all this in a country that has an automatic revulsion against keeping and consolidating those very kinds of records, and often where the government in charge of the states in question will interpose every possible obstacle. And all of that with MiniTru ensuring that no adverse information ever sees the light of day.

Has anyone put that kind of effort into the investigation? No, they have not. Hence, with the best will in the world, the courts had not enough to work with. Hence, none of the investigations can be said to be valid. No, none of them. Neither can any of the court decisions, even where legally sound – and they were not all legally sound; Roberts, you swine, I’m looking at you – are dispositive, either.

So forget it; the information coming from the media is doctored and dishonest, with anything contrary studiously suppressed. The investigations were trash. The court’s refusal to hear cases prejudiced where not just outright unconstitutional.

Now some ignorant toad is going to scream, “Conspiracy loons! Conspiracy theory!”

Not on your life. People are not competent to conspire at this level, while Biden, cowering in his basement, certainly wasn’t. No, no; this is not a conspiracy but a consensus or, rather, several of them. A consensus exists when similar people, with similar values, backgrounds, and educations, see similar issues and problems, similarly, and come up with similar programs and solutions. A consensus doesn’t rule out conspiracy (“Adam, should we introduce spurious bit of bullshit X as people’s exhibit A, for the impeachment trial?”) but doesn’t depend on it either. It was sufficient in this case for enough middle and lower party workers and sundry activists, plus the media and the vile and filthy denationalized rich to a) believe that the only legitimate directions for the United States to go were further left, more globalist, less nationalist, more feminist, less nativist, etc., b) to recognize the promise of mail-in ballots, c) to deny for themselves that any principle is more important that continuing to move in those directions, and d) a resolve to do it, each in his or her or s/h/its individual capacity. No, Facebook did not conspire with Twitter; there was no need. No, X judge didn’t conspire with the Democratic Party; there was no need. No, Buffet and Bezos and Billzebub Gates didn’t conspire with Soros; there was no need. There was no need because they share a consensus.

And, so, no; we do not have any faith in the election results. Nor will we have, especially since we are quite certain that election fraud is now the way of the future. Soon to be President Harris (does anyone, anyone at all, have any illusions about that? Did anyone, ever? I have no more doubt of it than I have that she gives the best blowjob in the world, if the payoff is right) will never be considered legitimate. And she, and we, can expect everything from civil disobedience to nullification to riot to resistance in arms until the war commences. (Bet you didn’t know that the South was not the only region the states of which engaged in nullification.)

Labor day is one of those holidays that never made any sense to me. “Let’s celebrate people who work” makes about as much sense as “Yay for everyone who draws breath!” or perhaps more accurately “let’s hear it for people who have two thumbs.”

Sure, there are people who don’t work, but just like people who don’t have two thumbs they are vanishingly rare. And to a great extent equally unfortunate. Because humans were made to strive, and lack of strife makes us impaired and handicapped, just like people lacking one or both thumbs are impaired and handicapped. Both sets can rise above the handicap and live normal lives, but it’s an extra block on their way.

But of course, I’m not stupid, and I know that “labor” in the sense of the early 20th century doesn’t mean merely work. It means “work that might fall under collective action of organized labor.” All over the rest of the world, labor day was May 1st and dear Lord, in the seventies, during the cold war, it was the gamboling day of commies and other enemies of mankind.

Mayday was ripe for bombings, “mostly peaceful” demonstrations, etc. And in countries suffering from mental illness, like Portugal, the one TV channel that ran during the day was entirely turned over to USSR parades of troops before stands draped in red crap and flying red flags.

In the US, and frankly in saner parts of the rest of the world, people will use labor day to remind us that all work has dignity and all work deserves to be respected.

Mostly people seem to emphasize manual, dirty-jobs type of work, because, well, people tend to assume that’s the work that’s less valued.

To an extent they’re not wrong, though we’re on a cusp of change on that. It used to be when I was a kid, in pre-history, er…. I mean the mid 20th century, and until about ten years ago, everyone assumed if you had the brains you went to college, and jobs that wouldn’t require a college degree — yes, those existed. Why, you used to be able to be a retail manager or serve people fries without a degree. Crazy, I know — were for “stupid people” and had no attention or honor.

Therefore Labor day should recognize these unsung heroes of work!

We’re now at a sort of cusp. Everybody knows the money, the glory, frankly the ability for anyone to make enough money will young, is in skilled manual labor.

This is no longer working exactly as advertised. These manual jobs, which were always physically hard, are becoming hard to get, or to get reputable ones. And the glut of people applying means the pay is down. And–

But none of that matters. What matters is that regardless of what “Labor” is being celebrated by whatever society, work matters to humans.

Work might be necessary to humans. Regardless of what work is, or what work is prized by the society you live in.

Work gives shape to our days. Work allows us to live on our own as adults. If we’re working we are probably doing something needed, something others will pay for. And all work has its own dignity. Whether what you’re doing is a dirty job or a clean one, a desk job in a cube farm or a creative writing job at your comfy chair (she says.)

I say this as someone who spends a large part of her time defeating the idea that her job is utterly useless, since it’s work for leisure and not for necessities. I mean no one ever died for lack of a good novel, or even a blog post.

But the truth is that people don’t live only for the bare necessities, and there were definitely days, or months (sometimes years) that books kept me this side of the sod. And sometimes a blog post made me see everything differently and better.

So all work, so long as someone is willing to pay for it at least, is important and has dignity.

And yeah, even if you’re just doing it because you need to eat and have a roof over your head, it still has dignity, because you’re looking out for yourself, and avoiding being a responsibility for others.

Not everyone can have a glamorous career, whatever a glamorous career means now. Most people just have jobs.

And “just jobs” is enough.

Of course the prize is jobs you love. Labors of love.

But if you can’t do what you love, it’s sometimes enough to love what you do. And sometimes you can learn to love it, by thinking of all the things you love that are enabled by the (however irksome) work.

So go love and labor, and labor for love.

Working is part of being human, and it’s necessary to help us stay human.

Book Promo

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: Best Enemies

Hayden Jaeger, youngest son of the Chairman of the Council and Ambrose Vinogradov, the youngest son of the Founder, were thrown together by random chance as they were assigned to be dorm mate at the University. It was not an instant friendship.

300 years before the fall of the Troystvennyy Soyuz, the foundations of a secret society are about to be laid down . . .

FROM NATHAN C. BRINDLE: An American in Iya (Timelines Universe Book 8)

Over 200 years ago, a Plague overran the world, and 9 out of 10 human beings died.
In a small Japanese village on Shikoku, a group of American tourists found themselves stranded — and in grave danger of being murdered, merely for the sin of being 外人 (gaijin).
Luckily for them, their Japanese hosts took pity on their plight, and took them in as their own.
This is the story of their descendants — who still, more than anything, wish only someday to go home. That is . . .
. . . if they still have a home to return to.

FROM SAM SCHALL: Warbound Legacy: Betrayal Among the Stars (Honor & Duty Book 9)

A decade ago, Fuercon and its allies won the war with the Callusians. In the years since, peace reigned, and the horrors of the war became a distant nightmare. However, that peace is an illusion. A new enemy lurks in the deepest shadows of space, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Not everyone, however, is blind to the danger. Brigadier General Ashlyn Shaw (ret.) remembers the war that came close to costing her life and sees too many similarities between the early days of the war and now. Others see it as well. Unfortunately, they are the minority and too many choose to ignore their warnings.

As they work to identify the source of the threat, a new generation attends the Basilone Military Academy on Fuercon. Among them is Jake Shaw, Ashlyn’s son. He and his fellow cadets are set to take part in training cruises during the summer between their first and second years. It is a rite of passage for them and a chance for the Academy instructors to see how they react to military life onboard a working military cruiser.

FROM SCOTT MCCRAE: Jewels Of The Feathered Serpent (Jeff Galleon Adventures Book 2)

Second in an exciting new series of adventure novels by master storyteller Scott McCrea!

When archaeologist Steven Mauceri is stabbed by a mysterious figure wielding an ancient obsidian knife, California surfer and beach bum Jeff Galleon is dragooned into accompanying the wounded man and his family on an archaeological dig in the Philippines. The expedition survives murder and kidnapping attempts, but will they keep their lives once they enter the ghastly underground temple of the great god Quetzalcoatl?

Jewels of the Feathered Serpent is the second Jeff Galleon Adventure by Western Writers of America Spur Award finalist, author Scott McCrea.

BY GEORGE WASHINGTON OGDEN, REVIVED BY D. JASON FLEMING: The Long Fight (Annotated): The Classic Pulp Western

For years, old Solomon Heiskell told anyone who would listen that his land had oil in it. After years of drilling, and finding nothing but dirt and rock, his son Ared gave up the dream and took up sheep farming, even as so much oil was being discovered a few miles away that Oil City sprang up overnight. But when his flock is slaughtered in the night, and his father vanishes, Ared uses his remaining capital to buy a drilling rig and hire out to any of the smaller landowners in the area that will have him. The big money doesn’t want competition from wildcatters, they want control. And his father’s reputation as an eccentric shadows the son.

But come what may, Ared Heiskell has signed on for — The Long Fight!

• This iktaPOP Media edition contains a new introduction giving the novel historical and genre context.

FROM RUSSEL WORKING: The Insurrectionist

Denied a promised posting in Paris, Ian Landquart, a reporter with the storied Chicago Bullet newspaper, is shunted off to a suburban bureau and assigned to redact racist language from the historical archives.

To salvage his career, he investigates an elephant-owning farmer who protested nonviolently on Capitol Hill on January 6, 2021. But as Ian gins up an FBI probe, he learns that his progressive teenage daughter is dating the farmer’s conservative, gun-owning son—ensnaring the teens in the case.

With a Swiftian eye, The Insurrectionist lampoons the news media, our woke era, and government overreach in J6 prosecutions. Defying the official narrative, The Insurrectionist explores the abusive nature of politicized prosecutions.

FROM RACONTEUR PRESS, WITH STORIES BY ZAN OLIVER AND LEIGH KIMMEL: Steam Rising: Tales of steampunk and wondrous inventions (Raconteur Press Anthologies Book 35)

Steampunk. It’s not just a genre, it is science fiction in its purest form. In this collection, you will read of the ways that technology could both help and harm mankind. Steam power took a special kind of bravery to use and master, and the people who live in a steam-powered world adjust to that need: engineers, inventors, tinkerers and experimentalists of every kind and every manner imaginable.

Within, you will meet clockmakers and war-widows, steamship captains and airship pilots; you will see wailing engines race and clanking automata strut. Hurry on! The engineer is feeding the coal, and says she’s raring to go.

See that red lever over there? Grip ‘er tight, and heave forward the throttle…

FROM MACKEY CHANDLER: A Sudden Departure (April Series Book 9)

The Earth below is a house in disorder. The spacers increasingly just want to be left alone. They need less from Earth all the time so many don’t really care what they do down there on the Slum Ball, but what if improving technology made it easier for them to bring all their old factions and sects and rivalries among the stars? The three partners April, Jeff and Heather hope to beat them at that game and find a firm foothold out there before the Earthies arrive. The book is also laying out details leading up to the merge of the “April” series of books with the story of the “Family Law” series.

FROM MARY CATELLI: Magic And Secrets

Tales of Wonder and Magic A woman, sent to a far off duchy, finds a mysterious wolf haunting the forest, and learns there are secrets no one even suspects. Playing with props for amateur theatricals has more consequences than any of those doing it dream. . . act with care. A king’s tyranny sends a woman searching desperately for a legend of lions, there being no other hope.

FROM HOLLY CHISM: Normalcy Bias: Look closer…things aren’t always what they seem to be.

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: THRONE

Lines of Departure 2-2: The Choice isn’t Trump or Harris by Tom Kratman

Copyright © 2024, Thomas P. Kratman, (Widest possible dissemination authorized and encouraged.) 

 No, no; the choice is between Trump and a closed oligarchy that does NOT have your interests in mind. In short, whatever you want to do, you _cannot_ vote Harris. Oh, yes, you can cast your vote beside her name, but she is not the front runner; she is a front, just as her putative boss, Joe Biden, was. 

 Go back to the year 2020, the year when, under cover of COVID, Joe Biden ran for the presidency from his basement. Why did he do that? Fear of COVID? That was the claim, of course, but the movers and shakers of the country, especially the democratic ones, did a very impressive job of demonstrating that COVID was just not that impressive. Sure, during the George Floyd riots, they might sic the police on people sitting on their front porches, shooting those same people with paintballs. But for themselves? Please; it was party city throughout the pandemic for anyone well connected enough. And for the rioters? They were pretty much hands off. 

So much for COVID. 

 Flash forward to the Trump-Biden debate. There it became fairly obvious that the sitting president was…mostly not there anymore. I write this not with contempt but with a degree of sympathy; that fate awaits most of us, with time. More importantly, is there any reason to believe he was fully there when his handlers kept him locked in the basement during the 2020 campaign? There really isn’t. Moreover, the people who would swear that he was are the very same people who were telling us that he was sharp as a tack right up until the debate and for some time after; their word is worthless.

And then we have the pattern of conduct, the misguidance and mismanagement from the Afghanistan withdrawal debacle through the collapse of our southern border. It is not just hard, it is impossible, to identify a single thing that has gone well for the United States in between. Especially has the economy been a disaster, and not one that the smoke and mirrors of the Democratic Party and their lapdogs of the press has been very successful in hiding. That pattern is consistent and consistently horrifying. That pattern says very strongly that the Joe Biden of the debate was the same man who stayed in his basement in 2020. 

 He’s been this way all along. 

Then, too, we have the palace coup that drove Biden from the 2024 race. Obviously, he did not decide that for himself, either. 

Even so, even if Biden was incapable of doing much of anything on his own, or was not allowed to, decisions still were being made, to include decisions to do nothing, to include the decision to force him from the campaign. 

Who was making those decisions? We don’t really know. Obama is a likely member of the junta – and, yes, clearly, it is a junta – as are the Clintons, both the rapist and Felonia von Pantsuit. I would suggest that the thirty-five or so members of the House and the five senators who publicly called on Biden to step aside are not members of the junta, but that those who likely gave them their marching orders, Schumer and Pelosi – who is never out of office even when out of office, are. Hakim Jeffries may well be. Garland probably is a member. Kagan may represent the left wing of the Supreme Court. Perhaps there are a few others. 

Speaking of Kagan and the legal system, do but note that the supporters of the junta are the same people who will talk about the rule of law even as they prostitute the law to wage lawfare against anyone – Trump and the J6 protesters, principally – who tries to supersede them and return the country to an actual republic. 

It is, by the way, unclear and I think rather unlikely that Kamala Harris is a member of that junta, any more than Joe Biden was. This, quite despite her holding views that are not easily distinguished from, say, Marx or Engles….or Lenin…or Mao…or perhaps – we cannot say for sure and when we are sure it will also be too late – Pol Pot or Stalin. 

Soros? No, I don’t think so. He’s pretty distasteful from all perspectives. Now does the junta consult with him? Regularly, I am sure. But the names don’t matter and will probably never be known for certain. The only name we’ll be allowed to see is that of Kamala Harris, the frontwoman for the junta that has been telling Joe Biden what to do for more than four years. And which will be telling Kamala Harris what to do for another four to eight, if they’re allowed to. 

Just think of it, Franklin Delano Roosevelt had a bit over three terms; Obama and the junta may have as many as five. Hell, they may have an infinite number, if they succeed in destroying the Republic.

“Bu’, bu’, bu’, muh democracy!” 

I have some bad news for you, the people moaning about the loss of democracy are the same people who decided to simply install as their nominee a woman who is thoroughly disliked, even within their party, whose previous run for the nomination was a disaster, who has had, in other words, not a single vote cast for her this year, and a paltry few in 2020. 

In short, let me suggest to you a more modern, more accurate definition of democracy in 21st century America: 

Democracy, n. The unlimited and uninterrupted rule of the junta that looks after the interests of the vile and already filthy rich kleptocrats, corrupt bureaucrats, quasi-literate journalists, drooling pedophiles, academic lunatics, soulless and stupid entertainers, and other assorted human garbage on the inside of the Democratic Party. 

If that’s the definition of “democracy,” and it now is, and that is what you want, wouldn’t you be happier in, say, China or perhaps North Korea? 

But to finish with the same point we started with, which should be much clearer now, it is impossible to actually vote for Harris. The most you can do is vote for a junta, and, indeed, a junta that bears close resemblance to the Politburo that ran the Soviet Union or the one that is now running China, an oligarchy the members of which loathe actual democracy and don’t really hide that they do.

Every time a visit to Portugal looms, I find myself struggling internally. And I have to ask myself what is wrong with me.

Don’t get me wrong. Part of it is traveling. I despise travel and the further away I have to go the harder it is to psyche myself for it.

Yes, even cons. Years ago — I think now my grumpy nature is better understood — when I was writing six books (tradpub which is always more work/time consuming than indie books) a year, and driving the kids around, etc, friends used to tell me “Oh, don’t worry, con xyz is coming up. You get to relax and have fun.”

Of course, for me cons are work and back then they were fairly terrifying work, since I was meeting editors, and a misspoken word could make or break my career. Now I go to cons to meet fans, and by and large I love my fans and fans and my professional friends are quirky and kind and can quite pleasantly ignore my more awkward quirks.

So now my relationship with cons is love/hate. I actually enjoy hanging out with friends and spending time with my fans. But I still hate traveling, I hate sleeping in hotels, I hate not having my cats and my ROUTINE. I like waking up and having my food, and my coffee and petting my cats and talking to my husband, and sitting in my chair to work. I like evening walks with my husband (when I can convince him.) I like– Well… I like my life and the older I become the more I autistically resent disruptions to it.

But you know, there are things we could be doing… Suppose my husband had arranged for a stay at a seaside B & B for a week or two. I’d still be fried over “we have to leave the cats!” (Particularly with how Havey is right now. I mean, we might only have two weeks.) But I’d kind of be looking forward to it. Relaxing for two weeks, no cleaning, no home maintenance, no cooking. Just writing, and walks on the beach.

Okay, but going to the beach in the States we could drive. It would not involve long plane rides, 24 hours with connections.

Okay, but here’s the thing: Imagine I was going to Great Britain, or Italy or Greece, in the 1990s. (The specification is important, since right now much of the world appears to be on fire, which in turn makes me hesitant to going.) I’d be excited. Looking forward to it.

So, do I seriously dislike Portugal? Is that the problem?

… No. I mean, would I go to Portugal if I didn’t have family there, and a complicated relationship relating to growing up there?

No. Probably not. Mostly because my cultural touchstones, the places where I’ve set stories, are not there. So, I’d try to see the places where I dream.

BUT supposing I had no history with Portugal and were visiting, I’d also, again, probably be excited. Because, you know, it’s an interesting country, with an interesting history, nice beaches, a wealth of historical architecture. We’d go, poke around museums and such, and have a grand old time.

So… Is it my family?

Well, no. They’re the ones enticing me there at all, in this election year when I’m more nervous than a cat at a canine show and really hate to leave the country.

And they’re not so all-encompassing that Dan and I won’t “escape” for two or three days, or five or six one day at a time, and go walk around castles and museums, Roman ruins and old churches. (And yes, I’ll try to post pictures.) We’ll be home in the evening for dinner and to see relatives, and that works.

It’s more… the country. It’s….

Things will have changed. Yes, the relatives too, but also the places that harbored memory. Places I used to go cannot be found. Little stores I loved; patches of wood I walked through; the little art materials store that required one to take the 19th century elevator that creaked and swayed, all of it is gone, as though it had never been. The places where mom and I used to have ice cream. The coffee shops where my friends and I unhooked the world and turned it around the other way are all vanished.

The places I grew up, grandma’s house where I go when I dream, are all either so changed that they’re unrecognizable, or gone, plowed under, paved over.

It’s in a way like visiting the graveyard and looking at pictures on the graves, and remembering the people you knew, only with places. (Though at my age there’s plenty of tombs of friends and relatives that I’ll inevitably visit on the trip.)

But more so, because I found the last time that the places I loved have forgotten me. Meaning that my mother’s friends, people I knew, no longer remember I exist. In a way this makes perfect sense. After all, I was never central in their lives, and I’ve been gone almost half a century. Memory rewrites and heals over.

And you know, here’s the thing, even if I could go back there 40 years ago, I wouldn’t be the same going back, so it would all still feel strange and out of place. Because I have changed. I found recently how much I have changed, and how little I can tolerate the small concessions that used to be second nature to me when I lived there. The culture rubs me wrong, not because it’s changed (Oh, it probably has, but not markedly) but because I’ve changed so profoundly. Become a foreigner. And of course, everyone who knew me and remembers me still expects me to belong, to KNOW to fit in effortlessly. (Spoiler: I never fit in effortlessly, I merely used to be able to pretend.)

So even if I could go to the past, I’d fit oddly. The person who lived there and the things she loved, even if she never quite fit in, is quite gone, as if she’d never been.

Except for memories. Strange memories. Early morning, in deep fog, coming out of the train in downtown Porto. The old buildings vanishing into smoky fantasy. The trolley cars. Perhaps a hint of a smell of roasting chestnuts. The bookstores, where I could lose myself for hours. The coffee shops where I could sit and have a coffee and a pastry, and read…

Sitting on my parents’ terrace, late a summer night, listening to music and looking up at the dark sky with all the stars. (The fields around there are now skyscrapers, the stars lost in the light.)

There are memories and things I loved. But they’re not there anymore, just like I’m not there anymore.

And all that stays behind is memories. Snapshots in the mist. Sitting down to tea with grandma. Walking under the drizzle through downtown streets, the thought of a book waiting me up the road guiding my steps. Summer evenings with the late-setting sun drowning in red in the west, and a warm breeze blowing.

The people and places I loved and which are gone. Just as I am in a way gone.

The me that I barely remember passes through, a ghost among the ghosts.

We live not in places, but in slices of places and time. Before and after us, others possess places we love and live in them their way. Our time remains back in the past. New times take its place. People forget us, and we forget them. Absence like death dress people with their best smiles, perhaps, but it also changes them in our minds to what they never were.

Maid most dear, I am not here. I have no place, no part. No home anymore, in sea or shore. Except in your heart.

I don’t remember chasing no rabbit, or falling down a rabbit hole, and my name for certain sure isn’t Alice. (I changed that!)

So how in the name of that is holy and unholy did I find myself in a world in which the United Arab Emirates — the United Arab Emirates, land of medieval oligarchs in robes — are coming down on the side of free speech against a Western Country: Liberté, égalité, FAFO-ité.

And speaking of France, there is this: We’re now 48 days afterwards and Macron and his government are still running the country, they’ve basically ignored the election results which is unprecedented in the history of the French 5th republic.

And here? Here? I find myself on the same side as RFK Jr. and Tulsi Gabbard? Seriously?

Of course the truth is that the Junta in power has gone so far down their own communist rabbit hole that they can only win a non-crooked election in North Korea.

But of course, they have no intention of winning a non-crooked election, which is why Like I said, Kamala Harris might as well not even exist. This is a campaign run through the media and by press release.

It’s Potemkin elections all the way down. Like this.

And of course they’ve been stuck for a while in “Verdict first, trial afterwards.”

Seriously, people. I don’t know when the tea with the Mad Hatter comes into this, but I’m very afraid getting out of this one while possible and to an extent already baked in the cake, it won’t be as easy as waking up and realizing they’re all a bunch of playing cards.

(Though they are, and in the hands of the stupidest cabal ever, to boot.)

First, points of order relating to the recent fundraiser: We have now cashed all checks received. If we didn’t cash yours, we didn’t receive it.

This relates to being asked by someone what happened to a check last year which was never cashed. If not cashed, it wasn’t received.

We know some checks disappear into the ether because a check from a supporter who has since become a fan disappeared in the first fundraiser. Since it was substantial, she contacted me, and we’ve since become friends. But yeah, she voided that one as we have no idea what happened to them.

Wait, some of you send stuff late. So if in the last two weeks, we probably didn’t get it yet, but the other ones we collected and took to the bank this weekend. (For reasons, it involves a trip of around 3 to 4 hours. And while I KNOW we can do it on the phone, neither of us like doing it on the phone, so– We try to do a banking trip once every couple of months, unless it’s absolutely necessary to do it more often.)

I’m also probably going to run another fundraiser in November, as a number of you asked I do that. If y’all think this is crazy tell me in comments. Some of you maintain it’s easier to have at least two widely divergent in time fundraisers, because people donate more in two small chunks. (It’s easier on the budget.)

Still relating to fundraising: one of you sent me a SASE and asked for answers on how to get published. I will answer that soonish. It’s … complicated and depends on what you want out of publishing. If it’s money the answer is “Go indie,” but unfortunately guiding someone through that is not easy, simple, nor can it be done via snail mail.

WHILE ON THAT: Someone last year sent me a small pack of coffee and asked me not to try it till I’d emailed the email enclosed for the backstory. I emailed. Twice. No answer. Now keep in mind my hotmail is flakier than heck. So, if you’ve been answering, I haven’t got it. (On that and as a permanent thing: if the email that’s out in the ether does not work, try the book promo email. If neither of those get you to me, my assistant’s email — which I think she’s posted at times, for various submisisons — will get you to me. If nothing else she has my phone number and can voice-nag me.)

And still on fundraiser but sideways: If you’re a subscriber to my substacks or patreon, I honestly am not ignoring you and THERE WILL BE POSTS this week. To explain, and relating to the state of the writer, we have been pursuing some symptoms that make no sense, and right now all tests have come back very clear. The symptoms, which include waking in the middle of the night in a panic, and anxiety and depression not related to ANYTHING psychological might have a physical cause (it’s the sort of thing that recedes into nothing, the more you approach, but sometimes there is a very odd physical cause, and sometimes a life-threatening one, hence all the tests. It is apparently often a sign of hidden cancer, and since all forms of cancer gallop through dad’s family line, we’d like to eliminate that. Though sleep problems are first on the line.)

In the end, it might not be physical, but the last four years country-wise (or if you prefer, career wise, as far as I’m concerned, the last 9) and PTSD and such. I’m taking steps to deal with THAT anyway. But you know… medical tests eat your life. So it’s sent my ability to get stuff done in a reasonable time into a vortex of crazy.

At the same time we’re dealing with dual bureaucracies relating to getting younger son to have a wedding that very aged, not in great shape grandparents can attend (My parents. His other grandparents are gone). I’m entirely unsuited to dealing with ANY bureaucracy, much less two. My reflexive answer is to hoist middle fingers and scream “You’re not the boss of me.” Curiously that doesn’t work well. But we have a pathway to get it done, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll visit and son will get to introduce his bride that he’s (justifiably) so proud of. And the world will go on. HOWEVER it’s still taking up a lot of cycles and “Today we have to file this.” Which is tiring for everyone, particularly me, as I’m the one who can deal with ONE side of it.

By early October it either happens or doesn’t, and things will get more regular. Before then I HOPE barring you know sewage flooded basements (We were right, it was city problem, but apparently they’re sliding it under act of G-d. Ask why considering second fundraiser!) or MAJOR illness (minor is just life) to have a couple books out.

We’re also investigating non-Amazon print on demand for blog collection (this one on patriotism and acculturation) to be out before Christmas.

Other balls that have been in the air for a while, but then life got crazier: My doing regular (not sure what that means, could be every month, or every week or–) readings and interacting with fans over video/sound. A script for what will be a series of comics, largely covering the novel A Few Good Men. Finishing the next two Dyce mysteries. (The middle of the night waking up is messing me up.) Launching a series of “radio plays” for the heck of it.

These things will come as soon as I can, but it will take time.

I know I still owe a USAian stories antho, and my problem has been that having a world kidnap my brain means the new short story became impossible. But I HOPE I can finish the all consuming book this week. It’s moving again, even with lousy sleep. So probably will get that out in October (fingers crossed.)

And yes, I owe tuckerizations, but that depends on writing books set in the real world, which, yes, are coming. Again, the last two years got very weird in unexpected ways. Things are settling, in a new pattern, but that’s life.

So, the state of the writer: Guardedly optimistic. Working again. Still very tired, but trying to change things and improve habits to fight that.

Wish me luck.

Yesterday I stumbled on this post by Devon Eriksen on Twittex.

For those who don’t wish to follow through, he claims there were no real fat people in the fifties/sixties, when mothers cooked for their families, etc. It’s one of the those things of “he’s right and wrong” because he’s much younger than I and I can assure him the having home cooked meals was not universal, or even close to it, food was already processed by the time people bought it to use as ingredients, and there were indeed fat people (though very rarely as abnormally fat as now, but you do see those throughout history too. And I can go into that if anyone wishes me to write on fat, and why our society is exceptionally “fat”. It’s a number of circumstances, including that we’re as a rule older (the very fat people of the past were usually very wealthy, meaning they could live longer with serious physical issues. Like Henry VIII with a debilitating, never-healed leg wound) and that … well, the pictures that Devon uses to illustrate the “there were no fat people” are part of the problem. Because those pictures of the sixties and seventies show people who were by and large on extreme diets due to the worship of “thin.” We do know there are serious metabolic consequences to whip-saw dieting — trust me, I’m a case study — and to early-life anorexia, as well as to extreme dieting while pregnant, which screws up the baby.)

The post is still worth reading, and I’m very glad it can be said. It’s just his being younger than I, I think, and also falling into the writer trap of “there was a master plan.” This is usually true in novels, never true in reality.

Sure, there was a short of prospiracy of cult devotees of the communist manifesto in places of power in entertainment and mass communication which led to the poison of “Marxist feminism” inserting itself into the dynamic and making everything objectively worse.

Note henceforth I can refer to it as simply “feminism” because “feminism” in modern society is Marxist. But there was, before that nonsense, a sort of sensible feminism. It curbed the greatest excesses of societal oppression of women (which happened because women are the most precious resource of any society. Do I need to unpack? You don’t let the people who can literally give your tribe a future wander off on their own and be captured by the enemy, for ex. This leads to curtailing the movements of women, historically) and advocated for stuff like a widow’s ability to manage her own household and money, without needing to return to her parents’ home or be subordinate to her inlaws. My grandmother was a feminist in that sense and at points it was opposite what is considered feminist nowadays. How opposite? Well, you see Victorian feminism was for women and children. So, it actually encouraged a woman to have children, treat her children well, stay home with the children and have no other employment, if the husband could at all manage to support her.

This was most often not possible, btw. The mid 20th century ideal of the housewife who stayed home and did nothing but watch her kids, cook for the family, decorate and maybe garden is the ideal of a very wealthy society. As such it was probably transitory and illusory, both. It was also, and Devon is absolutely right on this, aspirational and amazing. Because if you can afford to do it — and are temperamentally suited to it — what is better than to spend your life making the life of your family and community better?

It is particularly suited — center mass — to most female personalities. Women tend to be more social than males and like to perform acts of service for the community. It’s not that we’re saintly, it’s just what evolution selected for in females probably from the time we climbed down from the trees, if not before.

While women’s work tends to be indoors and non-dangerous, most women throughout history worked. And I’m going to lay down a marker here that I’m not even sure most women watched over their own children, in the sense we tend to think of it, the sense of the mid century housewife doing everything for her own kids. (And here, as with my thinking those very thin people of the sixties and seventies — I have my own pictures and honestly it looks odd, because people a generation before and after were if not “fat” more “normal”. I think that thinness and all the dieting are reflection of “listening to experts” who indulged their own fancy — being the seed of weight problems later, that housewife having nothing to do but mind her kids seeded the boomers neuroticism.)

While people tended to raise their own kids, and certainly (as I’ve said many times) the societies (upper class Victorian, Roman) that outsourced the raising of kids to hirelings did NOT fare well long term, child raising was more… flexible in the past.

I still caught the edge of this, to an extent. I mean, my mother, like my grandmothers, worked from home in her own business, and minded me in the sense that mom — and grandma — were there and provided meals at set times. But to be honest, from the time I was four or five, I played with other kids in the neighborhood for entire days. They played at my house too, sure, but that meant mom watched us all maybe one day out of six (Sunday was for extended family.)

More importantly, going back to former times, the children were expected to help with household work at about four, and often were apprenticed/had jobs/were in serious school (how serious? Well, people often entered university in their pre-teens. And don’t tell me they didn’t learn as much. They didn’t learn the same, but the amount was maybe more than we do as preparation) all day, etc.

It is a mistake to look at the middle years of the 20th century as “the way things ought to be.” To an extent we were already seriously off course.

To the point of fat and there not being a fat gene, etc. True. But at the same time there are things that break the system and predispose people to accumulate fat.

I’m not going to defend pre-packaged food, which is a thing regulated by the government and therefore by “experts.” Like, the ones who decided in the eighties that fat was bad for you but sugar just “got used up” which is a metabolic misunderstanding of epic proportions. For me and my family I always preferred to cook from scratch, because it’s healthier and often cheaper. But let’s face it, the diet of our ancestors wasn’t particularly wonderful, between lack of refrigeration and often being limited to what grew locally. Sure, they got limited amounts of protein, which might be good in a way, but which we’ve also find stunts growth and perhaps brain development.

Go ahead and cook from scratch and local if you can, but the fat epidemic is probably more related to see saw dieting in an attempt to reach the standards of thinness the experts said we should have, and the fact our health care has gotten good enough people survive with serious illnesses. My metabolism has never been the same, for ex, since I was put on strict bed rest for six months with first son. It is likely at a less wealthy time I, myself, and my son would both have died of eclampsia.

However, there is one contributing factor that absolutely can be blamed on feminism and that Devon hit on, though glancingly: the fact that all of us work, and work ridiculous hours.

Someone else mentioned that Americans define themselves by their job, as if that justified our existence. They’re not wrong. I figured that out in the aftermath of 2018 and being let go by the two main purchasers of my work. I realized I was suffering from middle aged unemployed man syndrome, as I’d defined myself by my jobs, even though they were in many ways crappy and stress filled.

And it’s interesting that Devon pointed out corporations jumped all in on “Women should have jobs” because it expanded the workforce and therefore lowered wages for everyone, because my friend Bill Reader had tentatively told me the same a few weeks ago. As in “Was it all a ploy like importing a lot of third worlders? A way to depress wages?”

I don’t think it was a “ploy” as I don’t think it was calculated. I think it was partly, sure, the communist manifesto at the back of a lot of influential brains, but also the fact life had got so good. Women not only could stay home, but were under-utilized. Look at recipes from the fifties and these people weren’t really cooking from scratch, but buying a series of canned things and combining them, with the result that a meal that would normally take half the day to prepare (Still does to me, if I’m doing something big from scratch, which is why nowadays it’s so hard, because we don’t eat that much, and it seems a waste of time.) And cleaning the house had gotten exponentially easier with machines (Seriously. I washed clothes by hand. You don’t have any idea how much time it took.) Women found themselves seriously under-employed, and therefore started casting their minds to what else they could do.

Now, if that prosperity had hit fifty years later, when there was an internet, there would have been a flourishing of work-at-home jobs, and I still think that’s where we’ll end up. But in the sixties, seventies and eighties, what it caused instead was bored women to start ENVYING their husband who got to go out and have jobs. (The fact most men’s jobs were no longer difficult and arduous helped with this. Women are still not hankering to be construction workers, truck drivers or trash pickup workers.)

Did corporations step on the accelerator and aid and abet this ethos? Yes. But corporations are served by university graduates, and the universities had already come up with the narrative of the oppressed woman freed by work.

And this in turn depressed wages, which in turn made it absolutely necessary for everyone, male and female to be “married to the job.” Because there’s always someone who is willing to work harder/make more sacrifices than you.

Recently we found ourselves explaining to both sons that yeah, though in very different jobs, we too worked 18 hour days in our late twenties and up through our late thirties. It’s what you have to do to establish yourself. And to be honest, because of increased longevity “establishing yourself.” and gaining credibility in your field, no matter what it is, takes longer and longer and longer. I mean, Dan is still working way more hours than he should be, and he might still (I haven’t checked) be considered “the kid” in his office. (Even if he works from home.) I know I suddenly crossed from “Raw beginner” to “Old woman of science fiction” somewhere in my mid fifties, and I’m still working raw beginner hours.

As I tried to tell my parents at one time — with marked lack of success — that Americans aren’t overweight because we’re lazy but because we work too much. It’s just most of our jobs are so all-absorbing.

So, in the essentials — aside from quibbles on the “fat” thing — I’m in accord with Devon that feminism has caused a break in American life, and by extension destroyed the family in our health.

It’s more that feminism was not so much an intended thing as a trend that picked up after World War Two.

Part of the problem is that all reproduction is a war between men and women — or in the animal kingdom males and females — in that each sex tries to have the most babies with the least expenditure of energy and effort, so at the expense of the other.

If you study evolution, this is how some species ended up with things like…. well, eating your mate right after copulation, or completely atrophying and becoming a pimple on your spouse’s side, but a pimple that can still impregnate her.

That kind of war is all very well, but the point of it is that it leads to more children.

This broken situation where each man and woman is an independent and competing economic unit is not leading to more children, or even a healthy and connected life.

Instead, it’s led to a life of anomie where humans have value only as economic production units, and can be discarded when no longer (or not yet) functional. Where it’s a shame to not be “employed” and “producing.”

This type of life is obviously completely compatible with communism/Marxism, in which the individual only matters so long as he produces, and where he’s a widget who is the same as everyone else.

And like all forms of Marxism, it leads to death and unhappiness. (Not necessarily in that order.)

The bitterly funny part of it (more bitter than funny) is that the entire left blames this on “capitalism” and doesn’t realize their version of feminism does nothing but feed all humanity into the maw of faceless corporations.

It would be funny if we weren’t living it and at risk of dying laughing.

(Pardon the lateness. This week will be weird as it’s a series of medical tests and stuff. And the stuff is weirder than the tests. – SAH)