Keeping Bambi and His Mom Together… in the Snake Pit

Back from a whirlwind trip to collect the keys from the builder of our new house almost 800 miles away.  Quite exhausting… but what wears me down more is pondering how much brush I have to clear.  The crew pushed things around to create space for their construction—not to leave space for my garden and orchard.  And to think that the Master Builder marveled at the number of snakes he had seen about the site!  When you produce brush piles, O Rugged Captain of Joist and Beam, you get snakes.  (Which is just as well… because you also get rodents.)

And there were other, more minor nuisances… our builder set out a mailbox post with a street number because the Fire Department requires it, but didn’t bother to add the non-requisite mailbox.  We hard-working, home-grown Americans don’t go the extra mile in business dealings any longer, apparently: we sidle up to the legally stipulated boundary and then stop.  The builder, I hasten to add, comes highly recommended and is overworked (“If you want a job done, find a busy man,” runs an old adage that—of course—none of my students had ever heard). And he did lay all the joists and beams with admirable precision. I’m not griping… I’m just sighing.

It’s a start: the beginning of my life’s last chapter, after I have wasted so many intermediate pages trying to live out a hopeless narrative in the academic world.  I got the first of my long-suffering, probably dead-on-arrival fruit trees in the ground… and my cactuses fared much better. Nopales mean antioxidants at my doorstep if… if our socio-political train finally runs off the track. I stared down a deer through the kitchen window with the same grim reassurance.  I’m neither a hunter nor, on most occasions, a carnivore… but it’s nice to know that Bambi’s mom is in the larder if I absolutely need her.

Speaking of neglected work, cultural meltdown, does and fawns, and slimy serpents… I’m not exaggerating when I say that much the most annoying part of last week’s adventure was having to listen to CNN carry on in the hotel breakfast room (a hotel, because the house wasn’t quite ready on the evening promised).  Oh, I’d heard plenty of protests about CNN’s “fake news” coverage… but I had shrugged them off as the hyperbole of competitors, since I myself hadn’t regularly watched cable news for years.  The phenomenon, it turns out, goes far beyond mere bias.  It leaves me more determined than ever to ready the drawbridge for cranking up, because some of us are obviously losing our minds.

Now, what I’m about to write is based on the five-minute walk-through needed to soak up two cups of tea.  (I postpone breakfast and squeeze it almost into lunch—the so-called “starvation diet” that’s actually done me a lot of good).  Yet the very fact that my sampling was so brief and casual raises its own alarm: at any given moment, this is what you get.  Alisyn Camerota was leading a chorus about how frightened those de-parented toddlers along the border must be.  There were storms in the South Texas forecast—and, and the storms would bring thunder… and, and the little children would be so very terrified because they had been wrested away from Mama and Papacita!  Oh, my God! Oh, it was all so uncivilized and beastly!

Yes, Alisyn (keens another Woman of Corinth), and I talked to one person (one person of many, none of whom had names… but what would a border-jumper’s name mean to you, privileged Americano?  We’ll call her Maria…) and… and she was in tears, and she said that she didn’t know where her child was!

Hrrrumph… yes, Alisyn (as we switch to Clive Coat-and-Tie on the steps of the Capitol).  It seems that there are some advisors surrounding this president, and indeed many Americans among the president’s supporters, whose philosophy is that immigration is bad for the nation and should be brought to a complete halt for the indefinite future….

At this point, I growled over my tea, “No, we just want the damn laws enforced so that not just anyone gets to wander into the country!”  It was a very audible growl… but I was on my way out, and anyone who wanted to savor the anguish of the cuddle-your-child advocates further (a team strangely silent on the public funding of Abortions ’R Us Planned Parenthood) was instantly relieved of my presence.

I’m just not getting it. I have seen the edges of the Chihuahuan desert, and I will hazard this generalization: anyone who either leads or sends a child across hundreds of miles of that terrain is very likely a child-abuser of the first order from whose influence the toddler ought to be liberated permanently. Or if the situation in Mexico is really so bad that mothers are fleeing with their babies in arms—fleeing into a yet more lawless vacuum than their native village where they will be that much more likely, both mother and child, to be raped or murdered—then we should approach our southern neighbor and announce, “You have a civil war going on, and your refugees are spilling into our nation. We insist upon intervening. You need help.” When the refugees do reach American soil, by the way, the good-faith option would be to go straight to the authorities rather than to attempt sidestepping them under the expensive and criminal guidance of the very cutthroats whom you claim to be fleeing.

Dividing kids from such adult “supervision” seems a very good idea to me, even though it has now been scrapped and we’re right back to “catch and release”. Why not put the kids up for instant adoption? My wife and I will take one. Will Alisyn Camerota? Will Chris Cuomo?

Meanwhile, certain municipalities in Canada are swooping in and placing children in foster care if their parents protest the school system’s LBGTQ agenda. Several cases in our own cities have lately involved children being forcibly separated from their parents after hospital visits, not because physical abuse is suspected, but because the white coats want to experiment and observe. Where were the mainstream media on these stories?

Remember the body of the toddler lying face down on a beach that stirred such a surge of compassionate border-opening in Europe two or three years ago? No one has ever explained to me why there were no footprints around this lamentable little corpse in the soft, wet sand. Did the photographer really snap the shot without first checking to see if the boy had vital signs? Or was the whole thing staged?

Are we really such an irrational, impulsive mob now that an image without context and a talking head wearing crocodile tears suffice to advance the cause of major criminal enterprises?

The answer appears to be “yes”. Naturally, it has always been so with respect to a minority—a large minority—of the republic. Any republic.  Our imbecility is now approaching critical mass, however. It scares me a lot more than snakes… and snakes, remember, actually eat rats.

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Why Are We Not Screaming About the REAL Gun Pointed at Our Children?

I don’t understand.  I haven’t understood for years now.  Our government is sophisticated enough to engineer anti-gravity spacecraft, apparently (which is the least conspiratorial and crackpot construction one can put upon the Phoenix Lights, seen by hundreds and video-taped by dozens in 1997).  Now the new season of Ancient Aliens (a series to whose method crackpot conspiracies are no stranger) has documented that the government researched UFO’s intensively through the Advanced Aviation Threat Identification Program (AATIP), despite decades of denial.  So…

So why, in our formidable state of technological evolution—anti-gravity experiments, unlimited funding from “black budgets”, self-driving cars, heart transplants, AI that can pass the Turing Test—why can our federal government not secure the @#$&*%!! power grid?

National security is actually the one duty that our Constitution clearly and urgently thrusts upon the central government in no uncertain terms… and it seems to be the single undertaking that contemporary “leaders” are determined to ignore as they mess around in every other aspect of our lives.

An Electro-Magnetic Pulse arriving from space or the upper atmosphere would fry all of our electronics and leave us without transportation, communication, refrigeration, water treatment and pumping capacity, access to money, operation of light and heating… within a year, reasonable estimates have ninety percent of us dying of the consequences.  We have no industrial capability any longer to replace our generators, so we would have to rely upon the competence and good will of distant nations even to restore power in a year.  Yet securing the generators we have right now would be scarcely more complicated than constructing a Faraday Cage around each of them—something more or less achievable with chicken wire and tools you could buy at Home Depot.

Congress, however, in its infinite wisdom, has decided to let the power companies decide if they need to eat very modestly into their profits to secure our survival; and the power companies have decided that, no, the sun came up yesterday and will come up tomorrow… so no worries.  Actually, the sun IS a major worry.  An EMP could very well arrive from a storm of extraordinary solar flare activity of the sort that is overdue.  It’s all very nice to be on better terms now with Kim Jong Un (from either of whose two satellites a small nuclear detonation over our continent could be engineered)—but what kind of peace treaty is Donald Trump going to hammer out with the sun?

In his interview with Mark Levin last Sunday (April 22), Peter Pry didn’t really tell me much that I hadn’t already read; but hearing it all over again in so condensed a form cost me most of a night’s sleep, and I did, as well, pick up a few morsels of interesting information.  For instance, though Barack Obama approved the creation of the EMP Commission, he declined to act upon a single one of its recommendations during his two terms, and in general he treated Pry’s work with the lofty, smirking disdain so characteristic of an arrogant megalomaniac.  Had I more respect for Obama, I should suppose him a genuine Manchurian Candidate—a seditious plant whose purpose was to destroy the nation.  But a preponderance of evidence suggests, rather, that his was (and remains) a very pedestrian narcissist whose overweening sense of superiority makes of him, effectively, a downright and highly dangerous fool.

Trump has in fact taken some positive steps; but the timeline for securing the grid still seems to consume a couple of years, for reasons that I can’t follow—and if Trump is impeached or a Democrat-laden Congress is seated in 2019, look for that modicum of positive momentum to be channeled off into saving the horned owl or paying out reparations to welfare queens whose great-great-great grandfather may have been a slave.  And so we all die—not the owls; but slave descendant, slaveholder descendant, rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief… nine out of ten of us die.

I’m not contending that the congressional forces who waved the power companies to play on through did not comprise a goodly number of do-nothings with “R” behind their name.  This is, or should be, an issue well beyond political partisanship.  If a Democrat were to announce credibly that securing the grid were his—or her—top priority, I’d vote “D” for president instead of libertarian (or my recent “abstain”).  In fact, priorities be damned.  There should be nothing else on the docket.  This should be the single plank of the platform.

Yet what politico on either side is uttering a peep about it?

There was a faint flurry of activity on Twitter the morning after Pry’s interview.  What I saw could be summed up either as, “What’s this all about?  Does it mean my iPhone won’t work?” or, “It’s those alarmists again!  STFU.”  Maybe we deserve to die.  Maybe our destiny is finally closing in on a society that squandered its resources and opportunities shamelessly on frivolity and amusement.  That’s a hard pill to swallow, but… what else can you say of a people who set sail in troubled waters with tubs of champagne, but no lifeboat?

White Male Bourgeois Capitalist: Bad Guy in Perpetuity

For my half-dozen faithful readers in this quadrant of the galaxy, I’m going to undertake a partial translation of a Deutsche Welle article published online last Wednesday (May 25).  My German is far from perfect, yet I don’t think I’ve missed the mark on any significant detail.

The German press is leftwing times ten; Peter Holmes has often and aptly remarked the number of formerly East German hacks who have found their way into contemporary German corridors of power (including Merkel’s inner circle).  The German press, likewise, is pretty much what one might expect of a Fourth Estate essentially run by the Stasi.  Unless a volcano is erupting in Indonesia, its stories are nothing but spin and propaganda.

In this case, I found the ideological contortion-act uproarious.  We’re already familiar with it on our side of the pond.  If you or I uttered in the most discreet privacy a comment containing five percent of the racism or sexism with which Rap music is laced, we’d lose our jobs pronto.  But when someone of the right DNA profile makes exponentially worse remarks than anything we’ve ever imagined, not only is all forgiven at once—the fault for the infraction is attributed to us because we have created such a hostile environment for the dear.

Read this:

Today Gangsta Rap is about rebellion above all else, according to Kathrin Bower, Professor of German Studies at the University of Richmond and an expert in German Rap [naturally].  The “Gangsta-Rapper”, clarified Bower in an interview with Deutsche Welle, presents himself ostentatiously as an outsider, a rebel, someone who deliberately ignores the rules and thereby becomes celebrated.

“The crude flaunting of material possessions, the hostility to women, and the violence in Gangsta Rap are a veiled expression of general rebellion against the worth of the middle class, established society, and political correctness.  The fact that the music publisher Echo’s award primarily reflects lofty sales numbers—and thus popularity—points to a disturbing reality, continued Bower: that “the hypermasculinity and provocation of Gangsta Rap are pleasing to young people of extremely diverse backgrounds.”

The most curious thing about that little meditation is how political correctness appears to be identified with the middle class.  I wonder if Professor Bower, expert in German Rap and the Modern World generally, really thought that one through.  PC orthodoxy is supposed to be aimed at the vicious, greedy, racist tendencies of the squalid capitalist bourgeoisie… but the rapper has both targets in the sites of his weaving (and mostly metaphorical) Glock, so some scuffing up of logical boundaries in pursuit of a brilliant insight must be forgiven.

Then we have the case of a paradoxically successful artiste-critic of the system:

Bushido’s turbulent objectives indicate a broad—and altogether contradictory—target audience: on the one hand, Muslim youths with an immigrant background, and on the other, youths who style themselves “white nationalist” or neo-Nazi.  These latter have embraced Bushido even though the rapper’s father is a Tunisian.

This time it is DW, and not one of its professorial interviewees, who’s attempting a barrel-roll that would have made the Red Baron vomit.  If Caucasian Germans who cheer on rappers are potential Nazis, then they shouldn’t be standing shoulder to shoulder with Muslim lads… should they?  Hmm.  A contradiction.  Of course, these young males aren’t nearly as bright as the DW staff and its panoply of academic contributors… so another interview can probably explain their pathetically irrational—but not contemptible (never that!)—behavior.

It wasn’t always so.  In Berlin-Kreuzberg, young people of Turkish origin have identified themselves with Hip-Hop and Rap since the Eighties in order to address their role as the “other side” in Germany, writes Ayhan Kaya, Professor of Politics and Director of the Europa Institute on Bilgi University’s campus in Istanbul.

In this early form of Rap, the objective above all else was the search for identity.  Today, writes, Kaya, that isn’t so much the case.  At the moment, he is working on a project about Gangsta Rap whose focus is how the genre has come to serve “the disillusioned Right as well as being an outlet for Muslim youth.”

“This is actually a positive development,” said Kaya in an interview with DW.  A possibility for radicalization exists in both groups, and both are similar “victims of globalization, the departure of local industry, socio-economic frustration, alienation, and humiliation.”  Hip-Hop is an escape valve for youth who otherwise might have joined radical groups like the so-called Islamic State or the National Socialist Underground (NSU).

Personally, I don’t think Professor Kaya is far off base.  I see daylight (if not exactly a Golden Dawn) in this odd marriage, as well.  As I have conjectured for some time, people raised in fundamentalist Islam and the disenfranchised “young white male” of the West who only ever hears about his “privilege” must eventually converge upon the recognition that they share significant values.  They don’t want to be lackeys to females, their masculinity disparaged and their intelligence derided.  They have a suppressed (and sometimes very distorted) but nonetheless powerful desire to serve something beyond themselves rather than eke out a sybaritic postmodern existence of chasing after animal pleasures.  They’re not very eloquent on the whole, and so they are apt to counter criticism of their crude behavior by doubling down on it: “Okay, so I’m a pig!  Oink, oink!  Better keep your distance, or I’ll splash mud on you!”  And, yes, they’re largely unemployed; and in a world increasingly fond of fusing humans with machines, their attraction to manual labor and their pride in honest sweat merely draws sneers.

The Left doesn’t want to brand these bad boys as irredeemable, at least when they’re not Caucasian: they’re too patently eligible for victim status.  Yet to suggest that they aren’t all wearing pink vagina hats only because some strange mixture of capitalism and PC fascism has nudged them into the margin is to dwell in a fantasy.

Well… where else would you expect to find the denizens of Leftworld?

The Federation of North American States: A Needed Divorce

Trying to sleep through two hours of the loudest, most persistent thunder I’ve ever heard in well over half a century on this earth mingled eerily with the images of bombs over Syria that sent me off to bed.  Storms eventually pass through, even the one last night… but so much of what we do, as individuals and corporately, takes us down paths that we can never retrace.

We Americans are supposed to teach bad guys a lesson, it seems—but why Bashar al-Assad, and why Syria?  What about the bad guys in the People’s Republic of China, whose citizen critics are “invited for a cup of tea” at the police station and are never heard from again?  We have more or less created that diseased state with an insensate, lowest-bottom-line kind of capitalism… and now we scream bloody murder at those among us who wish to see a domestic steel industry sustained (just in case we might… oh, I don’t know: get involved in a war unapproved by the Chinese?).  We haven’t invaded Venezuela yet to right wrongs and rescue Lady Justice; and, more often than not, we may be caught making pretty at Raul Castro’s despotism only a few miles off our coastline.

Meanwhile, a special prosecutor investigating a non-crime is having doors kicked in with the encouragement of hip-pocket judges as he seeks to add to his long list of people railroaded into prison because they won’t commit perjury or because they ring up big political points when put in stripes; and a Supreme Court Justice who died under patently suspicious circumstances was never autopsied and will never be exhumed.  And this, then, is the nation that rides about the world on a white charger righting wrongs?  It’s legal to murder unborn babies here… but we must punish the use of a technology whose heyday was World War I?

I know I’m not doing a good job of zeroing in on a specific issue.  In fact, my intent is precisely to evade the specific: I mean to suggest here that we Americans are now a nation in name only.  Serendipitously, I was only an hour ago reading Alexis de Toqueville’s warning that large republics increase the allurement of tyrannical power without increasing the commitment of their democratic base.  We grow more and more unalike in our essential values as our nation’s power becomes more and more concentrated in an oligarchic elite.  The citizens of San Francisco don’t seem to care that their places of business are literally scented with the human fecal matter strewn along the sidewalks.  The citizens of some small burg in Alabama, on the other hand, may want to have the Ten Commandments on display in their courthouse… but a single protester backed with money from an international financier can tie up the initiative for years in the national court system.

This is why I tweeted last week that the US will be a loose alliance of four or five republics within twenty years.  To be exact, I prophesied this outcome if the will of our presidential plebiscite were reversed by sleazy special interests and a renegade Justice Department; but even without a successful impeachment, I think a lot of people already share my view that the jig is up.  The Deep State has now gnawed all the way through the Ship of State’s keel.  I say this as someone who never supported Donald Trump for president and didn’t vote for him (exactly because I expected incoherent, impulsive hipshots like the Syrian bombing to be the result).  Trump was misidentified as a spokesman for the Vast Disenfranchised.  In my view, he isn’t and never was… but it’s also my view that nobody could be.  Not now.  The garbage I heard from “friends” during the primaries about why Ted Cruz was unsuitable only underscores my conclusion that we’ve lost sufficient common ground to survive as a tight-knit nation.

A loose federation would actually be a great benefit to everyone.  Imagine.  West Coast States, you can throw open your borders and let unvetted immigrants fertilize your boulevards all the livelong day.  The Southeastern States, meanwhile, will enforce not only their Mexican border, but also their New Mexican line—and immigrants from LA to Austin will not immediately be eligible to vote in local elections.  The Rocky Mountain States can exploit their mineral resources—or not—as they please.  New England can outlaw all forms of firearm and sugar.  Dearborn, Michigan, can post Koranic verses throughout its courthouses, or the whole region can opt for the practice of Sharia law.

As for military adventures abroad, if a couple of our republics want to put on the cape and amend injustices in Botswana, they may certainly do so as long as it’s on their own dime.  We’ll share a currency and trade freely among ourselves (without tariffs); but as for tax moneys, what’s Peter’s will no longer be accessible to Paul.

Now there would be something to hope for!  Hallelujah—hasten the day!

“The Center Cannot Hold”: Why the Future Must Bring Change, for Better or for Worse

I sometimes “console” myself these days (if you can call it that) with the thought that the future must necessarily look very different from the present.  Several unfortunate trends in our declining civilization are self-annihilating.  The disappearance of their motive forces will not necessarily leave things better, and in some ways will likely leave things worse; but at least there will be a clearing of the air, and something may be reassembled from the rubble if any survivor of the old school should manage to crawl out of a bunker.

Gay couples cannot naturally have children.  They have two choices: adopt or (in the case of lesbians) resort to artificial insemination.  Adoption is still impeded by certain legal obstacles in many jurisdictions and incurs great expense; artificial pregnancy is likewise costly with its relatively high failure rates, and carries the further risk of bodily harm once the unnaturally massive doses of hormones settle into the system.  Most such couples will simply embrace childlessness.  Why wouldn’t they?  Even heterosexual pairs go to elaborate lengths now to avoid conception (or take desperate steps to terminate pregnancy).  A couple that chooses to go yin-yin rather than yin-yang presumably never had child-bearing high on its list, to begin with.

Yes, I used the word “choose”.  In my experience, most people of this persuasion have chosen their path after our carnivorous heterosexual practices have worn them out.  And avoiding the “baby trap” is also one popular motive for thumbing one’s nose at Ozzie and Harriet.  So… I venture to say that the influence of “the gay” on future societies will be minimal, having been washed out of the linens after a few generational cycles.  The only reason this would NOT be true would be precisely because heterosexuals might continue to choose against their nature due to dating customs (once called “courtship”) grown intolerably ravenous.  Yet since we’re talking about the future, a still more likely option than homosexuality, in that event, would be the “sex-bot”: the made-to-order, life-like toy that the Japanese are already refining.  No, I’m not suggesting that Siri or Alexa equipped with a new porno-ap and a supermodel delivery system would constitute a great leap forward for a decadent civilization… but our present moral log-jam will be blown to high heaven, one way or the other.

The clock is ticking on “overkill” feminism, as well: the outlook, I mean, that attributes all female gripes and setbacks to males.  Western males, especially, are the supposed villains; and for that reason, Third World practices are obliviously licensed by neo-feminists just because their male practitioners are not Caucasians.  Self-annihilation has never been so transparent.  On a global scale, Islam is not going to relax its general position on women staying at home with the kids any time soon—and to Islam belongs the future, judging by present vectors.  The leaders of organized Christianity have succeeded in debasing the faith to an anemic, self-shaming, ever-in-retreat caricature of forgiveness that plays perfectly into the hand of secular utopianism.  In parts of Europe, Catholics and Protestants alike are practically carrying bricks and mortar for the construction of new mosques in some crazy act of penance (tinged with a solipsistic vision of sainthood).  Meanwhile, Muslims in these newly disputed border territories (what else can you call Western Europe?) are quite deliberately having large families.  Germany’s whopping abortion rate is owed to its native, formerly Christian population—not to its immigrants from Turkey and Syria.  Of course, the feminist phalanx is celebrating abortion culture at the same time as it lobbies for the admission of more Islamic “refugees”.

So, once again, the trend is clearly toward the extermination of the independent woman; and not just of her, but of the effeminate, feckless, grotesque distortion of the Christian faith that has rendered us, the faithful, incapable of correcting our own children and standing our own ground against thugs that beat down the doors of our homes.  We will be bleached out of history’s wash in the Darwinian kind of retribution visited upon those who rationalize self-indulgent laziness and cowardice.  Thus always to pious hypocrites and equivocating, morally inept fools.

Perhaps most surprisingly—and most luridly—the unskilled, undisciplined, indigent masses so very catalytic in all Western politics over the past fifty years are likewise slated for the slaughterhouse.  (This includes, but is by not means limited to, the Islamic masses of Europe, once they serve their purpose.)  Our legions of unlettered “guests” contribute little or nothing to economies into which they are “invited”.  They mow lawns and swab out toilets only because automating these mind-numbing chores would cost more than relegating them to human drudges.  Even those few who virtuously slave in such misery cannot often make ends meet with their pay (especially since they represent the very demographic that produces the most children).  They draw heavily upon public welfare programs, therefore; and, as these go bankrupt—as they must, and sooner rather than later—a largely uneducated electorate, conditioned to accepting charity from the central government’s invisible, quasi-divine hand, will riot destructively and necessitate (if not vote for) the suspension of civil rights and the institution of martial law.

Beyond this point, the masses’ benign Big Brother will become unrecognizable.  The scenarios for trimming the dead wood from the tree are far too many to review here.  China’s long-standing and brutally enforced “one child” policy is perhaps the least subtle.  (I would anticipate, rather, something like a sterilant secretly infused into the required annual flu vaccine.)  The elite who rule us, in any case, will soon find an efficient way of exterminating the “needy class” that currently supposes itself their favorite child, forever to be lavished with free goodies every time it whimpers.

I could go on.  Perhaps I will, in a book for anyone with the stomach to read it.  Most of the public, I know, will pass on to some more “enjoyable” fare.  That’s exactly my point… don’t you see?  The cattle filing up the chute that ends beneath the slaughterboy’s sledgehammer are practically cutting in line to get to the excitement.

Cultural Disappearance Is Contagious

The following article began as a review of Thilo Sarrazin’s L’Allemagne Disparait (Germany Is Disappearing) for Amazon… but it grew to such proportions that I thought I’d post it here, as well, with slight adjustments.

I read this book in French because I feared that my German might not suffice to guide me through the learned Sarrazin’s highly abstract discussion.  Alas, French was little better—and my native English would scarcely have closed the comprehension gap.  For the real difficulty lies not in vocabulary per se, but in the densely terminological, thoroughly arcane idiom of the social sciences, where trails of nouns often end up forming a single noun-adjective group referenced to some airy statistical reality.  And of statistics, too, there is an abundance.  These are often the more vague as they grow more clear—by which I mean that a patent dependency of one factor on another has a way of shutting down what should be a deeper probe into a complex issue.

Now, all of that said, I’m very sympathetic with regard to the Sarrazin case.  Western nations on both sides of the Atlantic are currently engaged in shouting down critics of uncontrolled immigration with the “Nazi racist” slur.  Sarrazin has been pilloried before for speaking in cold facts.  Those facts are as follows: Germany (and, by extension, other prosperous Western societies) cannot absorb a steady deluge of unskilled Third World laborers who have large families requiring ample public subsidy and who are so comfortable with dependency that they attempt not even the degree of assimilation implied in learning their adoptive home’s language.  Sarrazin has repeatedly and predictably run into trouble by insisting that Islamic culture, especially, nourishes this retrograde attitude.  Of course, he is right, inasmuch as the harmful Muslim tendencies at issue are not religious but cultural: the large families of the Near East and North Africa, the inferior role of women, the “unmanliness” of long study, and so forth.  To claim that Germany’s population must inevitably grow less intelligent as its proportion of weak student-material escalates thanks to open immigration—and that the German way of life itself must disappear as future generations become more inept with advanced technology—is not really racist at all.  It’s certainly not the same thing as saying, “Syrian Muslims are dumb.”  It is a commentary, rather, on the cultural friction between an atavistic society and a progressive high-tech society.  East Indian, Chinese, and Vietnamese immigrants do not pose the same problem to the Western educational system, Sarrazin notes.  They are also far less attracted by the advantages of a de facto guaranteed minimum income provided by the German system.

It is painful, as an American, to read Saarazin’s applauding our more sensible handling of the issues in this work, most of whose research belongs to the previous decade.  We have not kept to the wiser path during the intervening years.

The single point that nags me about Thilo Sarrazin’s analysis is its philosophical materialism.  Christianity appears to be lamented in these pages as a body of helpful illusions that once made life happier, just as (one might say) the innocent deceptions practiced on children make Christmas happier.  To me, this is indeed the great flaw behind the book’s reliance on sociology and statistics: not their complexity, but their reduction of the central issue to a very practical one of economic sustainability.  If the West dies, I think it will be because she has terminally misplaced the purpose of individualism, of liberalism: to liberate the soul from bestial servitude in order to pursue things that have no “market value”.  Because of our contemporary spiritual malaise, we have exchanged the degrading drudgery of intense manual labor for the degrading addictions of an anemic will.  Our moral decline, after all, is intricately involved in the plummeting birthrates that cause such alarm to Sarrazin. Our steady, centuries-long desertion of largely self-sustaining agrarianism to have the affluence and convenience of city life has likewise exposed our pastimes to suicidal frivolity and snared our physical surroundings in a vicious cycle of unwholesome artifice.  We are courting depression through hedonism, poisoning ourselves with pollution, and turning chronically neurotic thanks to our mechanized pace of living: all of these factors leave us in no mood to produce a new generation, and sometimes physiologically incapable of doing so. Such issues cannot adequately be diagnosed without a spiritual reference… and the Christian Church in Europe, all across the denominational spectrum, seems incapable nowadays of providing this.

Germany Is Disappearing is a powerful work and a “must read”, in any language, for those who want to project the future of Western civilization with some mature degree of probability.  But it also seems to me to be missing a vital element.

Orwell Has Arrived

A German woman of a certain age named Mona Maja published an impassioned plea on YouTube last week for her fellow citizens to join her in a peaceful demonstration.  The emotion in her voice was driving words out at a rate I couldn’t quite keep up with—and my German is none too perfect, anyway.  On top of that, she was filming in a suburban back yard, apparently, that admitted frequent streams of background noise.  Yet this much I can assert: there was no incitement to violence whatever in her speech (unless anxiety over the high probability of being spat on, raped, or knifed on the city sidewalk is incitement in the form of a call to self-defense).

Nevertheless, YouTube removed the video after it had attracted about 150,000 views on the grounds that it was “hate speech”.  (The video was republished on Facebook, where it has topped half a million views: we’ll see how long it is allowed to run there.) If your daughter is murdered by a Turkish “refugee” and you organize a march to protest the passivity of the police, then you are a hate-monger and rioter in today’s Western world.  That’s the Orwellian society that is threatening to overtake us on this side of the pond, as well.

Netflix has lately been trying to force down my throat a documentary blaring the praises of feminist ambulance-chaser and courtroom stormtrooper Gloria Allred.  Also salient on the docket of recommended choices are opinion-flicks featuring Michael Moore and Robert Reich about how to repair the capitalist system they so love (hint: it begins with outlawing the profit motive).  Something called Dirty Money keeps trying to run a trailer every time I log on; the series tag promises to reveal how corporations are laundering money for drug cartels and otherwise outbidding Satan for the rule of Hell.

That’s all fine and dandy… but I’m still awaiting the exposé about how Eric Holder’s DOJ covertly ran guns to said cartels in order to get so many innocents slaughtered that the public would cry out for the Second Amendment’s repeal.  (The gambit was partially successful; a dozen kids were murdered with the guns at a birthday party in Juarez, for instance.)  My eagle-eye is still cocked, as well, for the bold new docu-drama that will follow a progressive-utopian Secretary of State as she abandons her personnel to an overseas mob and later sells massive amounts of uranium to a nation whose leadership once vowed to bury us.

Still on the lookout, too, for the first of Dinesh D’Souza’s many documentaries to make the Netflix roll call.  Still waiting for ANY of them to appear.  D’Souza, you may recall, did hard time over an unwitting violation of an obscure law governing political contributions for whose infraction only minor fines had been levied before. Courtesy of that forementioned lion of justice, Eric Holder.

Last month we were told to lament and deplore the repeal of Obama-era codes claiming to enforce “Net neutrality”.  Let’s see: YouTube is closed to any non-progressive point of view, individualist appeal, or inconvenient news flash: Netflix… closed; mainstream television… closed; Facebook and Twitter… as apt to close suddenly as the Symplegades.  But the Internet remains dangerously reflective of actual public opinion.  It’s lopsided.  Views that garner about 15-20 percent approval on a good day do not receive a “fair”, half-and-half manner of exposure.  Yeah, we really need to fix that—to “netfix” it.  And anyone who says otherwise should be indicted for hate crimes and sent away for a couple of years to rethink his position.

Welcome to what we called, in my youth, the Free World.