I review some excellent points Peter Hitchens made regarding the cultural decline that’s led our society and institutions to abdicate principals of individual rights, rule of law, and other ideals.
Said ideals being integral to the success of not only England and America but any country that wants a similar outcome – this is troubling, to say the least.
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0 – 8 min : The why and how of my interest in Eastern European politics. With some discussion of my strict originalist Constitutionalism. Why global tensions are a threat to that position etc.
8 – 9:12 min : Talk about this Bob Lazar body language analysis video:
9:12 – end: I practice ‘social courage’ by wearing a funny hat and discuss the result
In this installment of the stream of consciousness show from my shitposting channel, I get into why I give a fuck about Eastern Europe.
Why should I as a United States citizen, homeowner, and patriot give a fuck about a bunch of bickering Gypsies and Slavs?
Ok, so I’m originally from Russia. But I’m pretty fucking comfortable and have basically been marinated in Americana since I was eight years old.The family I was adopted into having roots in the country going back to before the Civil War.
So, why do I get so up in arms about nations that will probably never be able to fully adopt the enlightenment principles I hold dear?
Well, as global economic tensions rise and converge with tribal tensions exacerbated by corporate media and powerful business interests THAT DOESN’T BODE WELL FOR STABILITY.
And stability is precisely what’s required for us to be able to pursue those things higher up on Maslow’s hierarchy.
Besides even gopniks will eventually crave a white picket fence and 2.5 kids who suck at piano. But, that craving will be somewhat dampened if people that claim to represent us keep being a global bar fly and playing the game of ‘let’s you and him fight.’
Dude!This Bob Lazar shit has me losing my mind. He’s so believable. What do you think alien life/technology/time travel mean for metaphysics?! Mind is so fucking blown. Gonna steal all his shit and use it in story after story.
Heard Peter Hitchens mention social courage so I decided to practice some by wearing a funny hat in public. It’s hilarious how people go around with half shaved Skrillex haircuts, purple hitler hair, piercings, lumberjack beards, and pants that showcase their HooHah but the minute you wear a funny hat YOU’RE THE FREAK!
This too is its own tribalism.
I suppose I should explain how exactly wearing a funny hat is ‘social courage.’ People give you shitty looks. This makes you uncomfortable. You start to question yourself. If you’re used to doing this then you will have less trouble having necessary but difficult conversations.
Aright, well there we have it there was some synopsis that happened there.
Hope ya enjoyed.
Cheers!
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One event that has sustained emotional resonance is that evening on the outskirts of Moscow. I was a kid of six or so. It was 1995ish and my mother and I were ferried to some bestial monument to Brutalism in a creme colored Soviet Era drandulet.
As we approached the long low apartment complex shrouded in trees and twilight I noted an eerie passage to some inky basement.
My mother mentioned something about the spirit of death lingering there. And we scurried past the monstrosity into a green tinted hallway and up a flight of stairs.
At the time I was often surprised that not evervyone lived eleven stories high.
We’d arrived for tea. As with all such memories of early life I can’t for the life of me recall if we were the guests of friends or family.
Anyhow the sixtyish woman and her husband were hospitable as all great Russians are. Offering the best of a meager stock of crackers and aromatic Chai.
Though the reminiseces the adults had seemed pleasant there was notheless a certain pensiveness. And then the conversation turned to hunger.
So, I suppose my mother was right. The spirit of death did linger there.
It was the spectre of famine, the monster of want.
Though he was gone he lingered.
Here some twenty five years later in the post industrial land of endless buffets such a beast seems less likely than unicorns.
But, perhaps this is an illusion.
As I said, the emotional resonance of that night, the tension in the air, has been sustained throughout my life.
So, I am keenly aware of the precarious balance of agriculture and transport that makes our plenty so commonplace.
Unfortunately, this balance may be skewing towards a dangerous direction.
Alarm is the enemy of wisdom.
But, when Tyson big wigs warn of food shortages, eyebrows should be raised.
Yes, of course there is corporate interest there in spinning things towards favorable legislation but that doesn’t change the fact that our infrastructure is a miracle hanging on a thread.
Here is Ron Paul’s excellent video on this troubling development:
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Ab Ovo means ‘from the very beginning.’ I first ran into this phrase while reading the introduction to Copleston’s History of Philosophy – Volume I.
The first subheading to the introduction is ‘why study the History of Philosophy?’
One of the reasons cited is as follows:
“To him especially who does not set out to learn a given system of philosophy but aspires to philosophise ab ovo, as it were, the study of the history of philosophy is indispensable, otherwise he will run the risk of proceeding down blind alleys and repeating the mistakes of his predecessors, from which a serious study of past thought might perhaps have saved him.”
In essence then one of the chief reasons for a serious study of philosophy, and more specifically the history of philosophy, is to keep from reinventing the wheel.
I want to expand this suggestion beyond the scope of the history of philosophy, and of philosophy in general, to all thought, to all permutations of cognition, and disciplines arising therefrom.
In so doing I’m not really saying anything new. Simply, highlighting the time honored wisdom of education. Not the education of the diploma mill but the education of engaged examination.
Perhaps, a more elegant way to say all this would be that all explanations, thoughts, and systems, are the beginnings of philosophy, if not philosophies outright.
And thus to have as free and robust a range of options for understanding the world and acting upon it – it behooves us to know if we’re on a road that has already been travelled, and where exactly it lies.
Therefore having digested a history of philosophy from studying volumes like the one Copleston wrote, the writings of various philosophers, and general history is indispensable for someone who values their time.
Speaking of which…
I am as always horrifically pressed for time, in part due to a mild neurosis, and in part due to regular and sudden responsibilities. I hope that this has been a sufficient tidbit and thank you for reading.
I will continue to read through both Russell’s and Copleston’s Histories of Philosophy and discussing what I find. As time permits.
Best wishes,
Alex
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I’m in a thoughtful mood. Join me for a meander simultaneously personal and macrocosmic. All acheived andante. Herein, we will explore St. George, coincidences, Scotch and all manner of things between.
MMM. Just shelled out eight hundred dollars for some plumbing work and found out that there’s another significant portion of my house that’s water damaged. To those of you who have been here a while, you may recall that I recently dwelt in hotels for the span of about four months while the guest bathroom was entirely rebuilt.
This time it seems that my kitchen and perhaps my master bedroom will have to be rebuilt. The tile in the kitchen masked the problem…only tip off was the wee bit of wetness where the tile met the hallway carpet.
The former plumbers hadn’t mentioned any of this (aside general warnings about pinholes) and the fellas I had out here who are kinda a big deal in the area almost gave up the search for the leak. Apparently, my crawlspace is sheer noneucledian mysticism and full of daft HVAC ductwork.
Plumbing CIRCA 1977
Uncertain as to whether or not my insurance company will cover another large claim. But, I’m a positive Scotch infused fella and even if they don’t I’m sorta looking forward to learn how to do this shit myself.
I was raised by a senior citizen and never taught shit. So if I have to rebuild a major part of my home that gives me ample lisence to swing my dick around. I like to swing my dick around.
Pictured: Swinging Dick
Anywho, I haven’t the time or more honestly the inclination to create anything resembling worth so I leave you with links to some pretty badass articles I was going to try to fashion a ramble out of:
Computer Nerd Teaches You How To Live Brilliantly Without The Cliche Melodramas of The Absent Minded Professor
Since, I got my ass handed to me at UPS today and didn’t wake up till four fucking PM here’s some thoughts that I guess qualify as content:
Hah. Yeah, but who eggs em on. Who whispers in their ear that Bruno over there gave em a pat on the ass?
If Helen’s face launched a thousand ships couldn’t her mouth have stopped it?
Do women go for poets with an English garden or are they jumping labia first into the beds of thugs no matter if it’s Patton or El Chapo. So long as they’re sufficiently ‘decisive.’
Most men want adventure not war. It just so happens that war is one of the ultimate adventures. And it comes with the most enthusiastic cheerleaders.
Let’s you n him fight!
Note: Fred has provided me with countless hours of joy and insight so I’ll forgive the shallowness of this polemic.
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The Fractal Journal 
If Helen’s face launched a thousand ships couldn’t her mouth have stopped it?
Do women go for poets with an English garden or are they jumping labia first into the beds of thugs no matter if it’s Patton or El Chapo. So long as they’re sufficiently ‘decisive.’
Most men want adventure not war. It just so happens that war is one of the ultimate adventures. And it comes with the most enthusiastic cheerleaders.
Let’s you n him fight!
Note:
Fred has provided me with countless hours of joy and insight so I’ll forgive the shallowness of this polemic.
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Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
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