I get the beef people have with the new Star Wars Trilogy– that it wasn’t as thought out as it should’ve been and all that. I’m struck though that the discovery of Rey’s grandad being Palpatine is a whole lot like how Paul in Dune discovers his grandad is the harkanwn baddie. Maybe the Star Wars people stole the idea from Frank Herbert but regardless they’re sending an identical message as far as I can tell. This world-eating machine, this laviathon, is our inheritance. What we do with it is up to us, but the fact is the harkonen blood is in us, and that’s fucking spooky. But maybe, like Paul says, being Harkonnen is how we’ll survive. All of us, evebody.

The dual pillars of love and of liberty, I believe, should be and already are the true foundations of the American emergent majority political divide. 

Love best speaks of the lefty. The one who wants a fair game and carries forth into time the flame of petty restlessness. 

Liberty is domain of the right. They wish for security, repudiation, and property. Wish too for freedom and grace.

Together these dual axioms mix together to make the American Stew. Liberty speaks of love and love yearns for Liberty in return. 

We love our freedom. We cherish our sovereignty. And we love enough to consider one ever innocent till proven otherwise in a court of law. 

It is my hope to propose as a compromise between the better parts of the major (and minor) political parties in the US a new political party entirely. 

The Love & Liberty Party. 

A party that comprises enough that is already so familiar to the citizenry, and enough that is new and good, and enough of a political social emphasis on unity and commonality, could be a winning one. 

A party of disagreers.

Tentatively, I part with thee,

J.W.

   If a providential government were to break down under a contract style of colonialism the interested international parties would need have no qualms about pulling out whenever it be deemed worthwhile. 

   If there was an understanding that the international investing community was not going to police their client states, the investors could act to protect their own interests with impunity; while of course staying within the customs & rules of the International Community. 

   The interest in a client state would be twofold. One, to bring prosperity to the world (as best as possible), and two, to ensure enough peace and prosperity in the World to ensure a homeland safe from mass immigration. 

   The interests of a sovereign in a client state could find its form many ways. Minerals, textiles, fruits, hand stitchings, furnishings….. 

   The advantage to the people and governing class of the client state would be gigantic. Individuals and families would be introduced to the possibility of having a say in the destiny of their people at a grand scale. 

   By providing detailed blueprints and actionable infrastructure for people in their home countries, we create work opportunities, we create livelihoods, and we edify people that rise up the rank. 

   We return the favor by introducing our new friends to products of the first world. Devices, modern homes, vehicles, better produce, industrial buildings selling hygienic products and groceries, etc. 

   The relationship then burgians from there. Expanding an export/import base, finding an output balance, forming a capital city. 

   Ideally a capital city will be in the most convenient place for economic trade routes while of course hopefully being a place adequately lovely. 

   The considerations of this type of colonialism demand the consideration of epochs. We must be able to think past election cycles. We must think about some things we don’t want to think about. We may have to think about civil strife and we may have to think about the potential of future civil strife. We must be human but we must also be smart. We ought aim to edify peoples and places best we can knowing all the while things may turn bad. This is why the type of intercession we ought perform is one that does demand any kind of moral equalization on the part of client countries. We raise up who is most loved, who is most bright, most trustworthy, and we hope for their great success. We do not expect to always find success. 

   I say the embassy be made into something more of a block; of a square. A place that defines itself amongst the people, yet is split apart, yet is more than a mere building and courtyard. Here should be a store, a restaurant or two, a commercial building, and a park which can be a point of connection between the capital block and the broader community. With a gate on the outer perimeter of the park which collects weapons and items from those coming in, we can ensure safety throughout the area.

   Of course within the capital block there would be more privacy and off limits areas. We could even make a list of people allowed within the zone. Maybe let people in randomly every so often to try some of the first world goodies. 

   It’s not inconceivable to imagine there could be an imperial presence outside of some kind of capital block that serves as a mini city for the paternal country. First world stores designed for the servicing of people from the developing world. Definitely possible. 

   Choosing a client within a country would be a thing of chance at times and obvious at others. There is indeed nothing stopping an international partner from pulling out a place the instant unrest begins and then from returning at a later point to negotiate with the party in power at said later point in time. 

   This concept hinges first on the overcoming of our current 2024 wave of mass immigration. Remigration seems a good option at the moment. Remigration does not mean the problem is solved, though. Remigration must be followed up with a better, more thorough docket of considerations. One such is the building of an adequate wall. Another is the building of better relationships. America is a place where great things are built. We should never stop building great things and never stop employing our people to be great. We should find ways to multiple more by the invitation of the people of the world to be part of the creation of greatness, and for them to have the oppurtunity to share in the good things that have come from the first world. 

   America must lead on this.

   As far as an ethics understanding, the interest of the international community in a country would be to offer our knowledge of and ability to apply the principles of international capitalism. We would not be there to play politics. Choosing a leader is one thing, saying this is our guy is another. On top of this, the emphasis should be on building economic alliances. The capital block would be the property of the interested country. 

   All assets would have to be listed in some sort of freeport status. We manage but at any time could a recognized local interest procour. With our departure however departs the sphere of influence of the US and the access to our markets. And also our engineering knack. 

   Contracts would be all about the products. If they are made and moved, people get paid and everyone is happy.

I propose a reading of the New Testament that I’ve not seen prior. Tis an interpretation that might be liable to knock one’s socks off or compel one to wish me burned at the stake, and perhaps the possibility of the latter reaction is why I write anonymously.

The tale of the Bible from its opening pages is a tale of humanity beginning to come to terms with the imposition of being human. Many examples can be highlighted of this grappling. I find that the contest between the known and unknown evolves throughout the Books. There’s the role of man and woman; the weight of the knowledge of good and evil; the absurd disparity in how one is seen by God and the envy/vengefulness such disparities can give rise to; then up through righteous disobedience; breaking out of slavery; and being a righteous man and king. Endless moral impositions and value judgements can be drawn from the Bible.

I do not claim to hold all biblical edicts nor do I suppose the book tells a full story of humanity, but there’s nothing else quite like it in existence. 

Now, a recurring emergence in the Bible, both Old & New Testament, is that of the Prophet. He’s building an Ark cause God said to, he’s receiving laws from God atop a mountain, he’s becoming a King, he’s doing his thing. 

A key aspect to the prophet’s tale is the tragedy that befalls him or his people. And this happens because, like from the start, he’s figuring out his humanity. He’s trying stuff. In part what makes him a prophet to begin with is his intuition towards change and the unforeseen. The issue with being inclined towards the new is that it can be perilous; this and that it tends to rub people, and perhaps God, the wrong way. “Be normal Be chill!”

Ok so what is this big special interpretation of one of, if not the, most known and commented on stories in all of human history?

Well, let me tell you. Jesus’s life as far as I see fits perfectly into the long line of prophets that preceded him. His was an ultimately tragic tale. He spoke new truths, dared in new ways, and was eventually forsaken and suffered a terrible fate. 

Now, in order to allow for even the possibility of this interpretation you have to be fairly secure with dismissing the whole “rose from the dead” part of the story. I feel ok to do this. In fact, I might say adding this appendix to his life’s story was as sinister as putting him up on that cross to begin with. 

We’re such infants, such spiritual babies that we can’t accept that such a man could be so pure and still be man. We can’t concede in our hearts that such a blameless beautiful life could end so horribly, so unnecessarily, so meaninglessly. 

But it did.

I am involuntarily celibate; an incel. 

I haven’t had real sex since before Covid. I’ve had a few psuedo-sexual encounters in the past number of years, but not real sex. There were two half— baked.. attempts and one smooch sesh. Es todo.

What’s funny is, as far as graphs and charts and whatnot go, I’m frankly a catch. I’m just under 6’2. I have wide shoulders. And I have a fairly symmetrical body and face. Any asymmetry is because as a kid I only kicked right footed and only jumped off my left and thaaat did something… As for the face my nose caught a football coming in at breakneck speed one crisp friday night in my youth LAFA league and it hasn’t straightened out since. Generally though, a healthy balanced rubbery skinned 26 year young chap. 

I’d say, in my humility, that my personality traits are also desirable enough for, if I may, a lady to wish me to bed her. 

I’m kind to women, I do not spit at them and I do not wish them ill. I appreciate them and am doing my utmost to come honestly to the table as far as issues of women’s independence, a woman’s right to choose, and a woman’s place at the table to begin with. I will say not all of my views on the matter are entirely PC but no matter, this essay is about me. I kid! I indeed adore women and have more and more come to see that there is no men without women, and vice versa: sorry if not PC! 

The association of the incel with the woman hater is not mismarked, as I have deduced from my time on what I like to call “NeoTwitter,” but Elon Musk insists must be called “X.” There is an anger and a blamecasting on corners of that site that easily leads a by– not stander, but by-twitterer, to shout into their keyboard, “Behold the mighty incel rage! Behold, as it exposes the sins of Hollywood starlets! As it decapitates its anonymous foid foe with its fiery name calling! Implementing the mightiest of terms! The dastardly “stupid!” (*gasp*) and of course the almost always fatal, “ugly!” 

Whether a, as the kids say, terminally online guy is hating on a singular woman, this woman he may know of only on the internet or on the television, or he is hating Women as such; as beings; as natural phenomena, he is hating. He is hating and yet there is a— call it “Christian,” means of uncovering where this hate comes from and for finding mercy, forgiveness, and all that other stuff for these guys……suffice to say, there’s resentment. Suffice to say, there’s hurt and there’s trauma. Suffice to say, there’s a sense of being hated for being male. (what’s that, you say? Men, hated by women!?) Suffice to say, corporatism is a bit of bitch, begging your pardon. 

Though if you were to ask me the most glaring ailment of these woman hating incels, it’s that they’re not having sex. I’ve managed to go this long dry and not become twisted into one of these worser types because I’ve understood that it can’t all be a woman’s fault. I do not find that it’s so simply my fault or man’s fault for that matter, but to make womankind your enemy is like declaring war on the Sun, or Greek Yogurt; it’s nonsensical. 

Now, on this matter of where to place blame, it may be best to first take a deep breath. Actually, first taking a deep breath is great advice for before doing anything, anytime! But here on this most sensitive most sacred matter of contemplating the modern fracture between the sexes, a deep breath and moment of simply being can be most illuminating and most essential.

I postulate that a moment of rest would be most fruitful in making an effort to understand the current relationship between the sexes because it’s not so damn complicated! No, it is, naturally. Anything so core to what makes us human as does how woman and man relate is endless complexity. 100%. It is only that, well we know! 

Yes, the previous paragraph was gibberish, but it’s the 21st century and we ought all be fluent in gibberish. What I mean to say is that it is in our very nature as sexual beings to traverse the landscape of sexuality. We know!

And what do we know!? What do the femcels and the incels know? What do the girl bosses and guy bosses know? What do the happily married and the happily divorced know? Deep way deep down beyond the layer of mind at which we can play tricks with ourselves and deceive ourselves, in the depths of our being, the thickest truest most permeable, we know that we need each other!!!!

The whole discourse on the sexual dysfunction of the modern 1st world skrts the underlying truth that we need each other. There is literally no man without woman, and there is perhaps in subtler but no less potent ways no woman without man.

At this junction I could go in a number of directions, some quite PC, others far from. But, let us stand firmly on this solid ground of acceptance— that we need each other; Man and Woman. 

Not only do we need each other, but we flipping love each other. The things that men lambast women for on the web, are the things that make them desirable and heavenly. A woman’s touch of insanity is what keeps a man on his toes in a position of vitality & dexterity. Likewise, A man’s physical imposition may make a woman frightened but fear… (I’m going to thread the needle here), that same fear is what makes a man so desirable: the fear he can instill on a potential assailant as the two of you stroll home together late at night.

Women return this favor by defending men against themselves. A good woman, like Belle in the timeless tale Beauty & The Beast, can naturally give rise to gentleness and gentility in a beastly man simply by virtue of her feminine charm.  

Clearly here I have a personal sense of what masculinity and femininity look like; the masculine is strong and able and the feminine is soothing and a tad insane. I kid again! Sort of. I do though have a sense of what could be called the “ideal” feminine & masculine. I argue you do as well! I argue we all do because we all seek an ideal and if we love life we aim to embody it and paint our world with it. 

Another grievance against women is they’re not as smart as men, but I say their intellect is their own.

I interject here to say I predicate my arguments in this essay on the basis that there actually are differences between the sexes—I celebrate this!

On this matter of intellect, men and women kinetically understand each other and they spiritually rely on and boilster one another, but they do not fully understand the working of the other’s mind. This is a good thing! The game never ends because no one can ever firmly agree on the rules. What fun!

Here I may continue on elucidating the dichotomies existent between the sexes, and perhaps I will, speaking of fun! I am trepidatious about things getting a bit too erotic and yet…

A woman’s petiteness can be a source of self hatred and self loathing, if I understand anything about women. It can lead to feeling vulnerable and defenseless, and feeling less than when compared to a hulking man. If a woman lives under the delusion that she needs no man, this is frankly understandable especially considering the raw physical vulnerability this may mean in her day to day life. If she is with a strong able bodied man she need not have these fears because he can be her defender against physical threats, as he should. I can see how this can sound like an old school argument and its being an archaic argument is not at all lost on me. Because I find it true. To make one more adult assertion (I know I know soo many for one essay), it is indeed encoded into the fibers of reality that a female human animal is not as strong as a male human animal. You can argue at the margins but you merely prove the rule. Ok, adult points have been made, back to the fun!

Ooh this one will be fun indeed! A man’s hulking presence over a woman is not at all a bad thing. It is the pairing of the petiteness of woman and the power of man that create the conditions for ideal marital relations. That’s all. Just trust me on that one. 

I’ll come back to this last point but I’d like to scribe a preamble. I’m off the PC deepend at this point but if you’re still reading that means, cheers!, you might just be an autonomous what-we-call Sovereign Individual. 

An aspect to the gender divide that gets overlooked is this: It’s scary to put yourself out there. It’s frickin frightening as a– as myself to conceive of actually striking up a conversation with a girl. Bar none. And I can bet it’s incredibly nerve racking to give a new guy a chance as a girl when you really do not know if he’s a serial murderer or, more likely, but not definitely(!), a rapin type.

I’ve never commited a rape but, I’m sorry, rape seems to be an animal thing, and we, as much as we dress ourselves up or name ourselves or make up job titles and gender identities, are still animals. I’ll leave that there.

I do not promise perfection. I do not condone rape however. It’s wrong, I think. (Blame Dasha and Anna for my unsuredness.) 

How honest should I be?

Raping a girl sounds fantastic. Overpowering her pinning her having my way with her making her mine. The thing about that fantasy is that it (mostly) hinges on the notion that “oh she would want me” and I assume that to be the consistent mentality of most all that rape. That there’s a secret conviction that you’re not transgressing against another but you’re blessing them, that you are what they want and that they are only too coy to make their feelings known. And that’s where the notion of the “rape fantasy” gets very tricky and where again I’m confident when we are wholly honest with ourselves we know when it’s right and when it’s wrong… or perhaps when it’s mostly right I really do not know I’m in extremely sensitive territory. 

Now that I’ve gone out so far, into such choppy water, our venture back to calm tides should feel less bumpy than perhaps if we only pushed a bit towards the storm. 

… Assuming that analogy worked, let’s talk about domination and submission. Rape is some crazy stuff and difficult to talk about– difficult to understand– difficult to fathom even, but consenting adults having intense sex is not the same thing. It is extremely telling of what we are as Human animals. 

When a husband pulls on his wife’s hair as they are making love, he is dominating her. More graphic you say? When he’s pounding her from behind and leaving red marks from slapping the bejesus out off her ass, he’s making her his. And she is submitting to him by allowing him to do such. She is giving herself to him by pressing back into his cock and moaning feverishly. This is hot sexy sex. And sex like this, like when a man lifts his woman up into the air and fucks her against a wall, is only possible when, sorry to be graphic, the woman doesn’t weigh 200 pounds and the guy is, frankly, jacked. 

It must be a bit scary as a woman to trust your man in that kind of way and it must be daunting as a man to go for such a thing, even when the beast in you is unwavering, because of all of kinds of reasons: you don’t want to emotionally or physical scar this woman you love, you don’t want to risk losing access to her sexually, you don’t want to deal with the legal implications or the social implications of being accused of rape… there are a good few reasons for the man but for the woman it comes down mostly to, is this guy about to kill me. 

Whatever you’re a bunch of freaks anyways! And I mean men and women! And you’re glorious for it! You freaks you!

Coming all the way around to my inceldom and the drastic lack of sex that I’m having and many people are (not) having—we’re petrified I think! I am! Rejection & laughter & nervousness & success! Performance & the aftermath & what to say how to ask when to just go for it, it’s flipping scary and nuanced. It’s instinctual but there’s also a lot of bureaucracy involved and that’s what I’d like to address next. 

This should be an interesting bit because it’s a chance to think actionably. 

I find the opportunities, the venues by which to connect with women daunting beyond the actual shooting-my-shot of it all. 

You have Tinder, the bars, and blimey I don’t know where else to meet women. I’ll try to conceive of tertiary situations… walking past each other in the street, layed out near each other at the beach, waiting in line together at a cafe or supermarket, on the bus or the train at the same time, at a party (I no get invited to parties), in the airport, at church (if that’s your style), at work (if there’s no policy or stigma against it), or I guess randomly on the internet while on Reddit or Omegle or Instagram or something. I suppose rich people have more opportunities cause they have resorts and benefit dinners and weddings and ceremonies and whatever else rich people have– private islands, whatever. 

I’m sure there’s more and of course just walking around it’s always possible to meet someone and say something (AHH!). 

Here on planet Earth though there are two options for meeting girls: the bar and tinder. 

Why the bar sucks. 

The bar sucks because everyone is drunk and alcohol is disgusting and poison and I want nothing to do with it 95% of the time. 

Why tinder sucks. 

Tinder sucks because it’s a casino app. It’s a poison of the mind to use tinder. 

And so, we’re left with porn.

Kidding! Not the solution no way no how. 

What do we do? What do I do? Is it helpful to write long winded pieces like this only to return to where I was to begin with, that is still getting no pussy? Jesus Christ I don’t know. I do know I have hope. I do know that tomorrow is a new day and that I’ve wisdom in me that I’ve not yet encountered and that it will lead me forward. I hope you learned something today, come back next week as I parse out the issue of racism. Until then, have yourself a merry little evening.

I propose another counter point to one of Jordan Peterson’s flagship precepts. And that is that we need each other to keep each other sane. 

So again, like my previous retort to a JP axiom, this is not to bash his position but to investigate the flip side of what he’s getting at. 

I do agree that sanity and people are important for the sake of, ya know, keeping each other sane and, people. I wager though that there has to be consideration of what the insane person is bringing to the table. 

An apt analogy would be the blending of two colors of paint. Imagine one, a great dollop of green, representing the sane, the well behaved, the non self speakers and neck twitchers. And imagine another, minuscule droplet of blue, to represent the insane, the isolated, the scoundrel, the separated. 

The way that Jordan Peterson seems to set up the dynamic implies the eventuality of the blue person, the coocoo one, coming back into meaningful, prolonged contact with the green glob of the good group and being fully enveloped by the green until all becomes green and all becomes good. Sanity reasserting itself en masse. But I beg to differ. And I beg to ask why we wouldn’t want a bit more venetian, a bit more teal in our end mix. 

I propose that the insane is having reciprocal impact on the sane that cannot be gotten rid by the mere everlasting imposition of sane forces. No the mix is now a bit blue: a hint, a streak, a highlight, or a new homogenized hue. 

Why do I say this and why does it mean anything. Well I know that Peterson has a great affinity for the realized individual, for the hero. And he also has, or at least had when I was listening to him, an affinity for Joseph Conrad’s A Hero with a Thousand Faces, in which Conrad emphasizes that a hero must, and always has in recorded histo-mythology, leave the people, leave the realm of the sane, of the safe, of the known. And ya know I think that means some, a little bit, maybe, neck twitching when he shows back up on the scene. Who knows I can’t seem to fucking stop. 

Now Peterson will tell you he slays the dragon and returns home to share the bounty, but fuck it if the dragon doesn’t do some damage on Prince Charming. Fuck it if the burn marks don’t go away. And fuck it if those burn marks aren’t essential for his people to see as they receive the great bounty they have been graciously given. 

A reminder of the journey and the peril. 

It is that burn mark, that deep tragic scar of going up against the leviathan that spurs on the next great hero; thinker; Man. It is not the glimmer of the crown or the luster of court, it is the dents of the armor, the scuffs of the shield, and the dulling of the blade that prove the hero and revitalize– redeem the future. 

And oh my god sanity is so damn boring!

Man created ships to voyage onto the high seas. Man created planes to soar through the sky. Man created University to traverse the mind. 

University’s only purpose is to push human genius further than it could go without the invention & implementation of University. Engineering, mathematics, governance, architecture, neuroscience, and a small handful of other brimming intellectual pursuits precipitated the consecration of higher education. 

The popular view of College as a place for people to be informed is misgiven. College is where people discover– with the help of professors and colleagues. Deviation from this mode disqualifies a school from being a place of higher education. 

The modern 4-year is as a rule, and by definition, an elementary school.

On this topic of mere life, or low love, we must move beyond the human dilemma for a moment and consider the beatles. 

Such a creature could easily be considered a low form of life. And yet, time and again, we hear about how the Beatles are the ones that make it through. Mass extinction on mass extinction and the super tiny, most basic form of living moving matter, bugs are usually doing ok after all is said and done. 

So, to return to the world of man, let us carry over the parallelism of the random mass extinction to the bug and put in its place for our sake a new frame, a hypothetical one, of the spectacular Northerner annihilating itself via nuclear war to the “left of the bell curve” Southerner that is still kickin after all the rubble clears. 

Undying fame is a hard achievement if all the papers, all the TVs, all the telephones and tablets, are ash.