Tagged: philosophy
Point/Counterpoint: Will the Influx of Africans to the West Work? (3)
No.
The influx will not work, at least not for the first few generations (and deeper, the longer they segregate).
There has been too much “foreign aid” to their homelands, and not the requisite amount of humble (which is inherently also wise), “Say, how do you get to a place where your ‘cup runneth over’?” for the Africans to ever get out of the mindset of thinking manna falls from heaven and transition to contributing.
The Look of the Debate
For posterity sake, I want to tell you what stuck me most about the debate. I have seen many other reactions to the debate that discussed some of what I am going to say, but none have centered on it.
During the infamous 15 seconds, the camera showed Trump look over at Biden. He seems to have been in thought, likely preparing whatever he would say next (but who knows?) when he then genuinely noticed a pause and uncontrollably turned to see what was going on. Trump’s expression made him look human. Made him look likable. Made him look normal. Made him look like we all think he really is—a man who will do anything to win (and many other things too), but a man who is very aware that he is putting on a show. Perhaps he is a horse in a department store, as I once read him described, but more than that too.
Biden, on the other hand, did not ever have a redeemable moment.
Oh, and I still can’t stand teachers. (See EdD Jill’s ridiculous encouragement clip.) These people are a joke. Yes, yes. I know she meant “answered every question” as opposed to “dodged”-every-question-in-favor-of-repeating-rehearsed-talking-points, and she did not mean “competition award”. But the man failed with every breath and certainly didn’t need anyone lying to him, let alone in such pandering fashion.
Reaction to Sir Niall Ferguson’s “We’re All Soviets Now”
You can find the article here. I don’t know much at all about that site, “The Free Press”. Seems like a normal site for its ilk.
Here I am going to react to his article paragraph by paragraph until I get bored or my points become redundant. A friend sent the article to me—a good friend. My criticism must be harsh then. Otherwise he’ll think I was lazy and didn’t read and consider it.
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P1 “the cold war we’re in—the second one”
-the very problem with the Left is they believe they can “manifest”, like Yahweh. Thankfully, they cannot. Are we in a second cold war? For that to be true, I, ol’ Pete, would have to agree. And I don’t. My most killer point is that there really is no “we” in the sense that there was during the real Cold War which we could read about if we so chose. Even in Bari’s intro to this article, she mentions that Niall is a voice in the “cultural battle”. If there is an actual cultural battle within America, then America cannot be a coherent enough group to partake in a cold war.
P2 “back in 2018”
-how much of my day shall I sacrifice to you, O Knight!? Hyperlink’s are fun and easy, but seriously, I have read many books and many articles. It is possible to just plainly write what you mean now, today and for it to be clear and tenable. Please do so.
P3 “[China] is a military rival”
-I will not fear. And, even within the non-we, I trust Nebraska, Kansas, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Texas, and most other states of the Union to produce warriors that can win more than I trust China.
P4 “in this new Cold War, we”
-you haven’t persuaded me on either point here. I don’t see a cold war, and there is no “we.” Now I have to peruse at least one of your links, otherwise there is no point in continuing since I don’t buy your “definitions”. Back. The two linked articles are on pay sites. Oh well. I’ll do my best to continue as if I was informed and undecided.
P4 “the immortal question”
-the immortal question is moral. “Bad” is a moral semantic domain. That’s why the clip is funny. The question is, “how do I know that killing this man is the moral thing to do?” The question has nothing to do with observation and nomenclature. Also, Sir Ferguson, perhaps you have written it elsewhere, but what exactly is gained by this naming convention “cold war two”? I actually kinda cared to learn some history and even through college we didn’t get past WW2. So while I know the phrase, I am certain that hardly anyone alive in the “we” has a clue what the Cold War was and now you want to persuade us/them to adopt Cold War 2? What you’re asking is worse than a copy of a copy. You are attempting to name a copy of a blank sheet of paper. This article itself contains little more than debatable content about the Cold War which can then bolster your claim about Cold War 2. Sand. It’s all sand.
P5 “two American Sailors”
-so, big difference between the SS and the US Navy is the US Navy is not immoral.
P6 “I know”
-let’s find out.
P7 “world of difference”
-so…you don’t know. The joke in the clip you link to is about WW2 bad guys being surprised, upon consideration, to conclude that they were immoral—something which many believe should be universally announced by one’s own conscience, and before the kill.
P8 “resources…consumer goods…equipment”
-these nouns are too general. They do not persuade. A bait and switch could be right around the corner.
P9 “quintile”
-i don’t understand. Are you educated or street? Sometimes you use a common vocabulary, but here you switch to a very pointed statistical term, and then qualify it further, before bringing up a new measure (infant mortality) which you do not pin down—late Soviet Union” vs. 2021. Huh? And Mississippi Delta and Appalachia are identical? You’re asking for far too much trust. I don’t even know you.
P10 “risible”
-who can define this word? (comment below if you didn’t need to look it up)
P11 “closer look”
-not really interested, thank you.
P12 “system?”
-a question mark is necessary for a question, but it doesn’t automatically make clear what you are asking. At this point I am over it. Whatever you are doing, whatever your goal, it isn’t written for me. Try again some other day, maybe when you have something to say.
In sum: 37 links. I once chatted with an excitable old man who had a book “with a bibliography over one hundred”. Before I knew it, I had accepted his gift of the book—for the low price of $10 to cover, the, you know… When it arrived, I gave it the old college try. It was like he thought a long bibliography was what truth was based on. In reality, the opposite is likely the case. The masses are duped, ignorant, lazy, common, and uninteresting.
Nothing in Sir Ferguson’s article redeems the false premise. No, we are not in another “cold war”. That phrase was a one-off and will not apply ever again. Furthermore, we are not the Soviets. This is mostly because America is an incredibly difficult thing to “be” anymore, and also because, and I have learned this the hard way, the “land” does have something to do with the question. And this isn’t Russian soil that I live on.
Reaction to a Couple Obituaries, to Include the First Ever (for this blog) Mildly Approved Sentiment
“(Person) loved his family and he spent his life in service of their welfare and happiness. Most recently, he found great joy in being a grandfather, investing an enormous amount of time and love doting on his dearest (two named grandsons). He also cared deeply for the larger community around him.”
– What is being hidden here? A “lifetime in service of their welfare and happiness”? That kind of lie can only mean bitter, bitter relationships and it also evinces a total misunderstanding of language. Sorry, it was rough being in his family folks, but a few words in the Sunday paper after he’s dead is not going to “manifest” anything pretty, let alone reach back into the past and fix the issues. And why is it wrong to pick out one or two people (from the billions) to love? Ever since whites learned the power of the phrase “black community”, they feel guilty if they don’t use part or all of it during supposedly momentous occasions. Just stop. We don’t live as members of some group which needs fancy and false descriptors any different than T-Rex or George Washington did.
****
Onto the first ever approved, if mildly, obituary assertion.
“He got a black lab puppy last year in April named Oslo. She was the best thing that had happen to him in quite some time. He never went anywhere without her, and they spent hours every day playing fetch with the tennis ball. He loved telling jokes and always had a smile on his face, despite away being described as grumpy ass sometimes.”
– What makes these sentiments worthy is they are fearless. Do you see? This dude lived a kinda shitty life (if a dog is the best thing to happen to you, then you’re having a “sour go”). I love the use of “tennis” to describe the ball—like anyone really cares what kind of ball it was. So quaint. I could do without the “ass”, and I wonder why no “air quotes” around “grumpy ass”, but the beauty is that whoever wrote this had some respect for the dead. I repeat: whoever wrote this respected this man. And the dead man obviously had threatened, or lived in a way which threatened, haunting whoever lied about him after his death.
So good work. This pairing of deceased and writer can teach us all a thing or two.
Reaction to Kiefer’s Sentiment About His Father’s Passing
Kiefer Sutherland said, “He loved what he did, and did what he loved. And one can never ask for more than that.”
I disagree. I can ask for far more than that.
I have felt bliss. I want instant bliss.
I want more time than I’m slated for, and when my body was twenty-one.
I want sane women.
I want a job that requires no concern about “pleasing people” or making people “happy”.
I want my daughter.
I want every human on earth to have discernment.
I want every human on earth to acknowledge and live according to their strength of memory and speed of thought.
I want pizza on a rotating schedule from all my favorite restaurants served at a place of my choosing as I feel, and new types coming out according to a timeline of my fancy.
I want to be adored.
I want to be listened to.
Back to the time thing; I want time enough to flesh out this post and have my afternoon coffee stay hot until I say so.
In short, Mr. Kiefer Sutherland, you’re wrong. No. Doing what you love or loving what you do, or both, is not all anyone can ask.
Instead of failing at sounding wise, please just tell us how you feel at the news that your father died. Or don’t.
People: we must do better at this death thing.
America’s Husband 2, Plus Bonus Coverage of Ongoing Kidnapped Daughter Drama
A constant dripping on a day of steady rain And a contentious woman are alike; He who would restrain her restrains the wind, And grasps oil with his right hand. -The Bible
“Sling a paddle with the next and starve as contentedly as Job. Go for’ard when the sloop’s nose was more often under than not, and take in sail like a man. Went prospecting once, up Teslin way, past Surprise Lake and the Little Yellow-Head. Grub gave out, and we ate the dogs. Dogs gave out, and we ate harnesses, moccasins, and furs. Never a whimper; never a pick-me-up-and-carry-me. Before we went she said to look out for grub, but when it happened, never a I-told-you-so.” -Jack London
Holy Writ accounts for the italics para about nagging wives. But what can be said about Jack London’s fantasy blurb from his short “Siwash”? Is it not the Proverb we all believe to be the Word of God simply put in the positive?
In the ongoing arguments with the wife, I throw out, “Why doesn’t scripture warn wives about nagging husbands? Did the LORD forget that? Is it because he is sexist? I think there are more difficult issue within Scripture than what it would mean to suggest that maybe He legitimately forgot. I’d run with that.
In any case, it’s a conundrum to nagging Christian wives.
****
I have mentioned that nearly everything reminds me of my kidnapped daughter. Well, this summer I’m back in Colorado. Trying to get back into regular contact with H- was primary goal, but others include the mountains. As such, I have been doing inventory on the camping gear as A-, J-, and I are going to hit the campgrounds soon. In so doing, I discovered—of all things—toothbrushes and toothpaste from the last time I went camping. And that would’ve been with H- some 6+ years ago. Sad.
Anyhow, the other kids and I are having our own fun in the mountains and I can only hope suicidal social media and general neglect isn’t taking it’s toll on H- as she is taught about how to normalize darkness by her mother. I only know she is alive because she hangs up rather than lets the calls ring through to vm. I probably should be grateful.
Here I just want to capture one undeniable fact: as her dad, I never did, have, or would’ve kept H- from her mother.
I feel shitty on the regular because I know I should’ve never married H-’s mom. It’s not a good feeling. But what to do? Best I can come up with is try to warn others.
Boys: Don’t marry whores. Just don’t do it. Nothing to do with scripture. Not talking true love waits. Just don’t marry whores. Take it from ol’ Pete.
Point/Counterpoint: Will the Influx of Africans to the West Work? (2)
Counterpoint: Yes.
Recall that by work we mean “rule of law” is retained. And by fail we mean “might makes right” resumes.
In response to the naysayers who think that the cultures are just too different, that it’s a bridge too far, I say, “But I am part of the welcoming committee.”
The reason this fact (my participation) gives me hope is that my number one American quality (important as America is leader of the West) is laughing while calling out BS, no matter the consequences.
And the only way forward is within the realm of the “Truth”. And one key element of “truth” (I’m teaching here—pay attention Africans) is you gotta be able to laugh at your own mistakes.
At least all you Pente have heard that love does not brag?
Was that meant only for the White Devil?
No, the answer is, “No, it was not.”
So it’s time to get over yourselves.
Are you unsure how to admit weakness and save face at the same time?
The West knows the fix. Laugh about it. Then hit the books.
Point/Counterpoint: Will the Influx of Africans to the West Work?
Today I’ll start with point.
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Point: It will not work.
By work, of course, we mean “rule of law” holding.
By fail, of course, we mean “might makes right” resuming.
One immediate reason we are on the way back to “might makes right” can be understood by a brief one-liner.
The joke isn’t funny if you have to explain it.
America’s Husband
My wife doesn’t listen to me, so I think it’s time to offer my services more generally.
First, because it happened merely moments ago, wives and mothers of our great nation: you do not get to leave for your shitty job (whose money we don’t need) and have some soft “miss you” moment with the kids. That’s for the actually poor (not just the envious) and/or the single mothers who have a job or three because they don’t want their precious little babies pregnant at 16 too.
Next, we need to talk about envy. Yeah, yeah. The Ten Commandments forbid envy. But it was uninspired men who clarified the problem with envy. The problem is not what happens on the inside of the envious. Envy is a problem because of what the envious do as their life’s main work: sabotage.
Case in point: a wife/mother who works a shitty, low-paying job when she doesn’t have to and uses the money to keep up with the Kardashians and mega church wives. This isn’t about money. It isn’t about control. It is envy. She suffers from envy and is sabotaging the entire family—her own children most importantly.
There’s something else, you terrible wives and mothers of America. Take a first aid course. Or join Scouts. But you need to do something to stop the incessant and melodramatic overreacting to childhood.
Proceed at your own risk, reader. What you are about to read is true and terrifying.
****
So I hear J- screaming. Ag- and An- are both upstairs with him. I had just told An- to shut the bathroom door and it soon became clear that she didn’t watch out for J-’s fingers.
Next thing I know, my wife is running up the stairs as if it’s D-Day and someone just called “Corman!!”
I sat at the table, shaking my head and dreading this totally unnecessary scene.
A moment later and J- is still crying. My wife is now frantic.
I can’t completely suppress my humanity, and I am curious if there is about to be some blood or a clearly distorted digit.
I finally see the boy’s hand as my wife carries him down the stairs and into view and it is…completely normal looking.
He is still crying.
My wife has now grabbed some ice from the freezer and is trying to apply it to his hand.
J- is not having it. He is constantly ripping himself from her grip and every time the slower-moving particles approach his hand, he shrieks louder as only toddlers are wont to do.
Next, (when will it end, I wonder?) my wife grabs a towel and tries again with the ice, this time, though, insulated by a grimy kitchen towel.
From upstairs, to the kitchen table, and now the stairs, J- is holding his ground. Rather, he is running the show and displaying a sinewy—if still covered in baby fat—wile that impresses even me. Given the situation, I am compelled to believe it comes from his man-mind.
“Where is your instinct, woman?!” I finally erupt. “He doesn’t want the ice. He isn’t hurt. Why would you keep fighting against him?”
Catechizing rabbits.
“How about this? I’ll stop if you can answer a question. What does ice do?”
Crickets.
“J-.”
The boy stops crying (face is still a slobbery mix of tears and snot and spit) at the sound of reason and calm.
“J- just go downstairs and play.”
He turns.
“Or if you want to go upstairs and play with your trains, that’s fine too.”
He chooses trains and heads up the stairs, hands and feet in action.
Pause the story here and ask yourself, “Why would the mother not worship her husband and the father at this point?”
Back to the story.
“Nag nag nag.” (I honestly don’t remember what she said.)
“What does the ice do?”
And now, as typical, she believes I am belittling her in front of the kids and fires off on that accord.
I turn to A- (who had apparently taken a seat beside me at the table to enjoy the show) and say, “Ice reduces swelling.”
A- turns to her mom and begins, “Momma, ic-.”
I stop her. “No, A-. I am teaching you.”
****
What, wives, in the hell are you thinking ice does? You saw some doctor use it once? Does it cure COVID?
In short, my beloveds, I will not feel bad for being aware that you can somehow look past a screaming child in order to apply, what to you, is merely an old wives’ tale remedy to a non-injury.
Hotness
I mentioned that I have a little thing I say to the toddlers every night before bed. I want to use that fact to expand on a larger concept—perhaps the largest concept of them all—understanding.
My estranged daughter, H- (now 14), from the old days of mostly happy-go-lucky blogging, asked if I could have her half-siblings say something different before bed than the routine we had. I agreed—you know, ‘cuz children are so gentle. After all, as a divorced dad with limited parenting time because I have a job unlike her worthless mother, I wouldn’t want to do anything would’ve caused H- to stop talking to me.
Anyhow, here’s what I came up with instead of the Boy Scout Law and Apostle’s Creed. It’s far simpler and more focused. I simply started saying, “Everyone goes to sleep the same way. Big people and little people. Tall people and short people. Fat people and skinny people. Old people and young people. Beautiful people and ugly people. They all go to sleep the same way. They lay down and close their eyes.”
Pretty great, eh?
Of course I have developed little flourishes here and there—because I can’t help but want the kids to laugh.
Here’s the kicker. At some point I started asking, “Do you wanna know something?” And then A- would excitedly answer in kind. And soon she knew it wasn’t some new fact or whatever she had imagined the first few times, but just the intro to the thing.
Well, that got old quickly, so recently, and because I judged she could handle it after seeing how she seems to understand certain types of humor, I started connecting the litany to some earlier part of the concluding day. Maybe, “Did I tell you want I saw on a sign today?” Or, “Do you remember that funny looking man? Do you known what he told me today?”
And you know what? She understands. I know she understands because she no longer is parroting anything, but considers context and then chuckles—and get this—even though she knows the event mentioned never happened, she knows what is next.
In contradistinction to this (I’ve written about this before) I have witnessed—been horrified to learn—that it is possible to simply parrot. Folks acquire some sort of skill to get what they want, but they have no understanding. In a sense, they simply bully their way through life.
How does it work, Pete?
Good question.
Just like the bird. The person repeats whatever phrase they have noticed through trial and error achieves the goal. But try to talk to the person or ask them a question, and, as I think Thoreau or Emerson said of the Injuns, “It’s like catechizing rabbits.”
Where does “hotness” fit in? I am hot today. Every Sunday home I am hot.
Why Sundays? Because on Sundays, church day, the fullness of the lack of understanding comes to a point.
Blended families are terribly difficult—maybe completely impossible. But ones in which there are members who constantly illustrate their absolute lack of understanding may just be the dumbest idea mankind has ever allowed.
One family going to separate churches Sunday mornings not only breaks every understanding of “family” to pieces, but everything that family is responsible for—which is everything.
Captain’s Log 