Glad That’s Over

We’re back home — my lovely wife Nina had some surgery on Thursday, and is now resting and recovering. Back to posting shortly.

Service Notice

I’m not likely to be able to post for a couple of days. Back by the weekend.

The Relativity Of Principle

Over at Maverick Philosopher, Bill Vallicella links to two contrasting articles. The first, by Binyamin Applebaum, an editor at the New York Times, is a panegyric on the presidency of Joe Biden. The second, by Peter van Buren at American Conservative, is a jeremiad called “Evening in America”. It’s a stark and fascinating juxtaposition.

In the first article, the author speaks of nothing but the economy — as if we are nothing more than walking stomachs, and nothing matters at all but how much money we have — and assumes that the government knows best how to maximize this (with the axiom that equal distribution of money is the greatest good, even if it comes at an absolute cost even for the poorest, and requires increasing suffocation of our liberties).

To evaluate the quality of life only in terms of economics is the chief feature of Marxism — but even with that narrow focus, the author neglects to mention (with good reason, considering his aim) the single economic factor uppermost on everyone’s mind: inflation. Reading the article, one might assume that we can just forget about everything else — mass illegal immigration, crime, lethal drugs pouring over the border, vanishing moral principles, sexualization of children, sacralization of everything perverse and grotesque, endless futile wars, the hegemony of identity politics and institutionalized race hatred, the erasure of history, the mass insanity that obliterates all natural categories, the wholesale abandonment of any sense of the transcendent, the lowering of all culture to the titillation and gratification of our basest appetites, the bleak despair that claims so many of our young peoples’ lives, the approach of civil war as our factional antipathies widen and deepen, etc., etc. (And never mind Joe Biden’s transparently obvious corruption, and his accelerating descent into caducity and stupefaction.)

In other words: Four More Years!

The second article certainly “gets it” (as for what “it” is, see above) more than the first, although, as Bill points out in his post, it’s surprising that it mentions only in passing what is by far the most dangerous and time-sensitive threat we face: the invasion across our southern border.

I wonder, as I have so often before: how is it that two (presumably) intelligent people could look at the state of the nation and see it so differently? I will leave this as “an exercise for the reader”. A good place to start, however, might be to think about who the authors are. According to Wikipedia:

Binyamin Applebaum, an Ivy League graduate, is, as noted above, a member of the editorial board of the New York Times, where he is “the lead writer on business and economics”.

Peter van Buren “…served in the U.S. Department of State for 24 years, including a year in Iraq as a team leader for two Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRTs).

After his book, We Meant Well: How I Helped Lose the Battle for the Hearts and Minds of the Iraqi People, was published in 2012 Van Buren claims to have experienced a series of escalating, adverse actions.”

Meanwhile, also over at Bill’s place, the question has arisen as to whether those who seem intentionally to be destroying the American nation are willfully choosing evil. I doubt, for the most part, that they are: as Socrates argued, nobody in his right mind does that, and my assumption (reinforced by knowing lots of lefties personally) is that they believe they are morally justified, somehow, in wrecking the place, or at least that the end justifies the means. But I’ll leave that for another post.

Far From The Madding Crowd’s Ignoble Strife

Before we wade, in our teeming millions, into the riotous disorder that 2024 is sure to bring, I thought it might be nice to “cleanse our timelines” for a moment in the clear air of a serene and ancient vastness where the vital spirit of remote antiquity still touches the living.

Here, then, is Batzorig Vaanchig with a paean to his ancestor Genghis Khan. Lyrics below.

Blessed by the eternal sky,
Born of the steppe,
Everywhere in blue-skied Mongolia,
His name resounds in the world,

The courageous Mongol Genghis,
The sublime lord Genghis.

Even in burning wounds,
A mind strong as steel,
Like temporal swords,
As powerful as a planetary bird,

The courageous Mongol Genghis,
The sublime lord Genghis.

Blessed by the sky above,
Possessed half the world,
Engrained is his spirit,
In the majestic and mighty world.

The courageous Mongol Genghis,
The sublime lord Genghis.

The United Metastates Of America

Have you heard of “superheating”? If you haven’t, Wikipedia describes it as:

“the phenomenon in which a liquid is heated to a temperature higher than its boiling point, without boiling. This is a so-called metastable state or metastate, where boiling might occur at any time, induced by external or internal effects… This may occur by microwaving water in a very smooth container. Disturbing the water may cause an unsafe eruption of hot water and result in burns.”

In related news:

It’s not just Trump: Democrats are moving to bar Republicans from ballots nationwide

We’re just five days into 2024, and I’d say that folks are already getting awfully careless about “disturbing the water”.

Mind The Gap

The cataract of aliens pouring over our southern border has risen, in December of last year, to a rate of about three-and-a-half million a year. (Can anyone, at this point, doubt for a moment that this an intentional feature of government policy?)

Meanwhile, as our efforts in Ukraine slump toward failure — as has been characteristic of all our military adventures since World War Two — and with our armed forces having degenerated from an invincible Männerbund to a self-actualization program for girls and the mentally ill, and with a feeble-minded octogenarian as our Commander-In-Chief, our reputation as a force to be feared in global strategy has never been weaker, and our rivals in the world arena understand this. There should be little doubt that China, in particular, is soon to capitalize on our impotence, and will try its chances in Taiwan.

Writing at The Gatestone Institute’s website last summer, Gordon Chang connected these two aspects of our decline in an alarming way: China, he says, is taking advantage of our dereliction at the border to infiltrate thousands of sleeper agents, to be activated should our conflict with the Celestial Kingdom suddenly turn hot.

We read:

There is no question that China’s PLA is inserting saboteurs through Mexico. “At the Darien Gap*, I have seen countless packs of Chinese males of military age, unattached to family groups, and pretending not to understand English,” said [Michael] Yon, the war correspondent. “They were all headed to the American border.”

“Normally in groups of five to fifteen, they typically emerge from the Darien Gap and spend one night in the U.S.-funded San Vicente Camp, or next door in the Tonosi Hotel, before boarding luxury buses for the trip up Highway 1 toward Costa Rica,” Yon reports. “One group of six young men bought a chicken at the Tonosi Hotel, drank its blood from small glasses, then cooked the chicken themselves in the hotel restaurant, according to the hotel manager. Drinking raw chicken blood is a rite among some PLA soldiers.”

Once here, the military fighters can link up with China’s agents already in place or Chinese diplomats.

How many of the PLA fighters have slipped into the United States this way? Some estimate 5,000, others 10,000. Those numbers sound high, but whatever the actual figure, more are coming.

These are China’s shock troops. The concern is that, on the first day of war in Asia they will take down America’s power lines, poison water reservoirs, assassinate officials, start wildfires, spread pathogens, and create terror by bombing shopping malls and supermarkets.

Feverish paranoia, you say? I suppose you must be right; after all, nothing like that could ever happen here.

*Readers should keep in mind that crossing the Darien Gap is not for the faint-hearted.

Sad News

I am very sorry to tell you that our longtime friend and commenter here at this blog, Robert (a.k.a. “Whitewall”) has very suddenly and unexpectedly lost his wife. I can only imagine the terrible shock and sorrow he must be going through, and I ask you all to think of him and to keep him in your prayers.

I Bet It’s Only Because She’s Gay

Well, Claudine Gay has stepped down as president of Harvard. She was already listing badly after her embarrassing testimony before Congress about antisemitism at Harvard, and Christopher Rufo’s withering barrage of examples of her chronic plagiarism finally holed her below the waterline.

Needless to say, in her resignation letter she made no apology for her amply demonstrated misconduct, but in good DEI style, boasted of her “commitment to scholarly rigor”, and blamed her troubles on “racial animus”.

Throughout Harvard’s long history, any undergraduate or faculty member who had been caught committing plagiarism even occasionally, let alone at the scale of Ms. Gay’s career-long spree, would have been ejected from campus in academic disgrace. But this is 2023, and Claudine Gay is a black woman (oops!- I meant to say a Black woman), so she will of course keep her professorship. Had she been male instead of female, and white instead of black (sorry again!! – Black), she’d have been out on her ear. (But that’s a fantastic counterfactual anyway; the idea that a place like Harvard would have a white male president in these enlightened times is obviously ridiculous, and likely both racist and sexist. I apologize again!)

It would be hard to top Andrew Klavan’s comment on all of this, so I’ll just leave you with it:

Audience Of One

To kick off 2024 — a year in which I think we all will be tested — here is an important reminder from David Bowie (PBUH):

Here We Go

Happy New Year, everybody!

Take a deep breath. 2024 is going to be “interesting”.

Okay, Okay

I realize the tone’s been kind of gloomy over here since I started posting again. As Woody Allen once put it:

More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction.

Yep, we’re in a bit of a pickle, and no mistake. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean I can’t lighten up a bit, and occasionally sprinkle in a post or two that isn’t about the cliff we’re going over.

So, with that in mind, here’s a half-century-old tune that I’m sure you all know, sung and played by me a couple of years ago as a little gift for my wee grandsons.

(The hardest part was getting the fingerpicking exactly right: it’s an odd, idiosyncratic pattern, and when I was getting ready to record this I learned (with horror) that I’d been playing it wrong for more than 50 years.)

 

Blues For Cassandra

Reading the news in these last days, I’ve been trying to find the right word to describe how it feels to watch the briskly accelerating disorder of all our civic and political affairs. “Shocked” won’t do, as I’ve been expecting it for years. “Appalled”? Well, yes, of course, but that doesn’t really catch all of it either. So what is the right word? What is it called when you begin to think, over a span of decades, that a thing previously unthinkable might, in fact, come to pass, and then it turns out you were right all along to think so?

Early on, the overwhelming unthinkableness of the thing brings you right back down to earth; you shy away from even talking about it, because people will think you’re just playing at being overwrought, and inwardly you chide yourself for taking it seriously even for a moment.

But from time to time, some little thing comes along — a news story, perhaps, or a remark by a friend or stranger — in which you recognize a general tilting ever so slightly more toward the possibility of the Unthinkable Thing, or at least incrementally less tilting away from it. And so, little by little as the years go by, you begin to feel more certain that you really are discerning a kind of tectonic motion, always in the same direction — that is, toward what you still must say, if you sit upright and get a proper hold of yourself for a moment, is quite unthinkable.

But the motion is stubborn. It persists. Mostly it creeps as imperceptibly as an hour-hand. Every now and then it jerks forward enough that you really get your ears up for a moment, but then it might even seem to creep backward for a bit, in a reassuring sort of way. You relax again, for a little while, but over time you’re surer and surer that you aren’t just making things up.

Then comes a day when you look around you and are quite certain — no doubt about it now! — that this thing that used to be over here is now way over there, and that you aren’t imagining it at all. You start to mention it to people who might not have been paying attention as closely as you have, but they mostly think you’re starting to have odd ideas, and maybe some of your friends begin to keep their distance.

So you start writing about it, and in doing so you meet others who have been noticing just as you have, which is a comfort — it’s good to know you aren’t the only one — but the fact that others have noticed as well means that things really are creeping, and occasionally jerking, in the direction of the Unthinkable Thing, the thing that you once upon a time (it was quite a few years ago now) thought you were silly even to imagine, because it really couldn’t happen, not here.

Then at last, when things have moved so far that it really must be obvious to everyone by now that we are becoming dangerously close to the Unthinkable Thing — which to you and your small band of observant friends now looms so large and so close that it blots out the sky like a leaping tiger — all of a sudden, a lot of people do start to notice, all at once, and they become very, very alarmed.

But by then, of course, it’s too late, because the unthinkable has already happened.

That’s what it’s been like. What’s the word for that? If there isn’t one, there ought to be.

Whoops, Our Bad

Philip K. Dick once said that “Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.”

A great many people, including myself, have seen, and said, for a very long time now that there was never going to be any “victory” over Russia in Ukraine. Yet for the last two years we in America have tagged our lawns and social-media profiles with blue-and-yellow flags; have been conditioned to hate Russia even more than we already did; have welcomed the shameless grifter Zelenskyy into our bosoms and feted him in Washington; have sent $73 billion to that most corrupt of nations, without the slightest attempt to keep track of where it went; have sent Ukraine vast amounts of military equipment and ordnance, much of which has later appeared on international black markets, and badly depleting our own supplies; and worst of all, we have prolonged this futile war long enough to reduce much of the country to rubble, and to send hundreds of thousands of Ukrainians to pointless and unnecessary deaths. Even now the campaign continues. Not only are women now dying at the front, but new categories previously exempt are now to be conscripted:

1) Missing/blind in one eye, or equivalent.
2) Severe hearing impairment
3) Tracheotomy
4) Jaw defects
5) Dwarfism (>130cm for Males)
6) Missing/non functional upper limb or equivalent.

All of these people are just being sent to die. Those who can are getting out, and they won’t be coming back; Ukraine is rapidly depopulating. Many of those who can’t leave are aged pensioners, now supported by U.S. taxpayers.

In short: between our backing of revolution in 2014, our relentless expansion of NATO despite promises to the contrary, our support of a regime that ruthlessly oppressed ethnic Russians in eastern oblasts, and our insouciant promotion and malevolent prolongation of this useless war, the GAE’s Imperial Court has effectively reduced Ukraine to a failed state, just as we had already done so effectively elsewhere. Meanwhile, we’ve also managed, with all the subtle dexterity that has characterized our foreign policy for decades now, to weaken and alienate our vassal states in Europe, accelerate the de-dollarization of the world economy, and drive our global rivals into closer relations. What we have done in Ukraine will be a bloody and permanent stain on what little remains of our nation’s honor.

But, reality having that habit of not going away, and with Ukraine obviously at the point of total collapse, we seem finally to have reached the point where we give up, find someone to blame, and slink away to find another country to wreck.

None of this had to happen. All of it could have been avoided.

But that’s not how we roll.

Tommy Smothers, 1937-2023

I was saddened today to hear news of the death of Tommy Smothers, whose wholesome, good-natured comedy (and fine guitar playing) I, and all of my generation, grew up with. The America of that bygone era all seems like a fading and faraway dream.

Here he is with another iconic figure from the Before Time: Johnny Carson.

Fat And Sick

The muse isn’t singing for me tonight, so I’ll just leave you with this:

“Pessimism is not in being tired of evil but in being tired of good. Despair does not lie in being weary of suffering, but in being weary of joy. It is when for some reason or other the good things in a society no longer work that the society begins to decline; when its food does not feed, when its cures do not cure, when its blessings refuse to bless.”

– G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man (1925)

This is it exactly: a nation’s soul can be so sickened by exhaustion, obesity, atrophy, and a kind of “insulin resistance” that it can no longer metabolize the ideas, traditions, beliefs, myths, and opportunities that in its youth, and in its prime, gave it energy and vitality.

Merry Christmas!

I hope you all have a happy and peaceful day, and that you can set all this tumult aside for a moment, enjoy the company of those you love, and think about higher, better things.

Thank you all for stopping by here, especially those of you who kept checking in during the long interval when I was unable to post much of anything.

This Is Your Child On Modernity

Watch this video (it’s brief):

This is what we get when we tear everything down — all the sturdy scaffolding that children have relied on throughout history to learn to be adults — without putting anything in its place. We have told them, in our spate of madness, that now they must create every aspect of themselves ex nihilo — something so obviously impossible that it would be seen as a criminally negligent dereliction of parental and social duty in any other place or time — and we flatter ourselves, in our cruelty, that we have set them free. The children, meanwhile, given the impossible task of creating a functional human being completely from scratch, and realizing that they must fail, turn away, in their desperation, from humanity itself.

Notice that she begins by identifying herself as having “DID”. This is Dissociative Identity Disorder, or what used to be called “split personality”. It has always been understood as an extreme response to catastrophic trauma, and until very recently was so rare that most practicing psychologists might never encounter a single case. But this young woman (when she’s speaking as a human, and not a “bearded vulture”) talks about it as if is a commonplace way of being among her peer-group, a natural response to living in this place in these times. I don’t doubt it: whether it is the genuine article, or simply a seductive and fashionable form of escape, there is something awful going on in our young peoples’ lives. (If you’re wondering about “quadrobics”, have a look here.)

This is our fault, folks. The blood of this poor girl, and so many others of her generation, is on our hands.

Is This It?

Back in 2020 I published an article at American Greatness on the subject of civil war. In it I wrote:

One of the peculiarities of civil war is that it is hard to say, except in retrospect, when a nation has passed the point of no return. There is rarely anything so distinct as Caesar’s fateful crossing of the Rubicon. It is, rather, like falling into a black hole: there is an “event horizon,” at some distance from the singularity, beyond which nothing can escape. To a space-traveler falling through it, there is no visible difference, no noticeable boundary—but once you have crossed that fateful border, there’s no possibility of turning back. All future timelines must pass through the singularity.

Is that where we are today? For the answer to be “no” means either that one side in this great political conflict will simply admit defeat, or that there will be some softening of grievances, some sort of coming together in a newly formed political center. Does that seem likely?

Looking at the yawning rift in American politics—the fundamentally incompatible visions of society and government that the two factions hold, the dehumanizing mutual antipathy that finds freer expression every day, the unforgettable damage already done, and the implacable fury with which they grapple for every atom of power—can any of us imagine some way forward in which Right and Left just “bury the hatchet” and “hug it out”?

That was three years ago. Things are worse now, and talk of civil war seems, especially in the last few months, to be everywhere, even as any pretense of civility, or of the “rule of law”, falls away. (The destruction of the Reconciliation Monument at Arlington, and the astonishing brazenness of blocking the Republican presidential front-runner from state ballots in the name of Democracy, are just the latest examples.) Just to throw some gas on the fire, there’s even a movie coming out about… a new American civil war. (Apparently, it features journalists as the persecuted good guys, which should tell you all you need to know about it.)

As I argued back in 2015, a real civil war isn’t an exciting Hollywood movie, or a swashbuckling adventure. It is the worst of all the forms of war, and it is a living, blood-drenched hell. Among young adults, I rather doubt that either the pierced blue-haired baristas or the “shit’s getting real!” Rambo wannabes really understand this; we have lived for so long in a kind of buffered-off, consequence-free simulation of reality that a great many people have no idea that actual war isn’t just something that happens on a glowing screen, or that when you find yourself bleeding out in a ditch you can’t just revert to your last saved game.

But… is there no point at which kinetic war against people who hate you and seek to subjugate you is justified? As stewards of the American nation we inherited from our forebears to preserve and cherish, and now crumbling before our eyes, where does our duty lie? A great many decent, patient, forgiving, and conscientious Americans are beginning to ask themselves this previously unthinkable question. Nobody else is coming to save us.

It’s easy, looking at history, to follow the stories of the decline and fall of nations and empires, in which the span of decades or centuries may pass in a day’s reading. To “zoom out”, though, when one is embedded in history in real time is another thing altogether, and far more difficult. But we are, at this point, rushing headlong past all of the familiar mile-posts.

To paraphrase Winston Churchill:

The American eagle sits on his perch, a large, strong bird with formidable beak and claws. There he sits motionless, while his keepers come day after day to prod him with a sharp pointed stick — now his neck, now under his wings, now his tail feathers. All the time the eagle keeps quite still. But it would be a great mistake to suppose that nothing is going on inside the breast of the eagle.

How much longer can this continue? What is to be done?

Notes From The Zoo

We live in a world of obvious lies. Magna est veritas, et praevalebit, goes the old saying — “the truth is mighty, and will prevail” — but “will prevail”, as should be apparent to all at this moment in our history, is clearly not the same thing as “does prevail”.

I’m fond of quoting Theodore Dalrymple on this topic, and I’ve often posted this paragraph of his:

Political correctness is communist propaganda writ small. In my study of communist societies, I came to the conclusion that the purpose of communist propaganda was not to persuade or convince, not to inform, but to humiliate; and therefore, the less it corresponded to reality the better. When people are forced to remain silent when they are being told the most obvious lies, or even worse when they are forced to repeat the lies themselves, they lose once and for all their sense of probity. To assent to obvious lies is in some small way to become evil oneself. One’s standing to resist anything is thus eroded, and even destroyed. A society of emasculated liars is easy to control. I think if you examine political correctness, it has the same effect and is intended to.

In a recent essay called Lying To Ourselves (which you can read here), Dalrymple cites the following passage from G. K. Chesterton’s book Orthodoxy (my emphasis):

The modern world is not evil; in some ways the modern world is far too good. It is full of wild and wasted virtues. When a religious scheme is shattered … it is not merely the vices that are let loose. The vices are, indeed, let loose, and they wander and do damage. But the virtues are let loose also; and the virtues wander more wildly, and the virtues do more terrible damage. The modern world is full of the old Christian virtues gone mad. The virtues have gone mad because they have been isolated from each other and are wandering alone. Thus some scientists care for truth; and their truth is pitiless. Thus some humanitarians only care for pity; and their pity (I am sorry to say) is often untruthful.

Dalrymple continues:

Pity and compassion, formerly Christian virtues are the virtues that run wild in the modern social liberal’s mind. Indeed, one might almost say that he has become addicted to them, for they are what give meaning and purpose to his life. He is ever on the lookout for new worlds not to conquer, but to pity. In his mind, pity and compassion require that he adopts without demur the point of view of the person he pities, for otherwise, he might upset him; he must not criticise, therefore. In short, if need be, he must lie, and he frequently ends up deceiving himself as well as others. And if he has power, he will turn lies into policy.

With all this in mind, we have the story of anthropologist Kathleen Lowrey’s excommunication from her academic community for maintaining, correctly, that orangutans, like ourselves, have two distinct sexes. Her article is witty, elegantly written, and terribly sad.

Read it here.

After Reconstruction, Now Deconstruction

In Arlington National Cemetery stands a memorial, sculpted by a Jewish sculptor named Moses Ezekiel (who, by the way, was the first Jew to graduate from the Virgina Military Institute). It features a classical female figure wearing a laurel wreath, and bears the inscription “They have beat their swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning hooks.”

Today it is to be torn down.

The memorial was erected as a gesture of national reconciliation following the Civil War of 1861-1865, in which Southern states sought to withdraw from the Union, and were coerced by military force to abandon their cause.

After Appomattox, neither side was happy with the result: the South for the obvious reason that they had been defeated, harshly subjugated, and reduced to poverty; and the North for having to welcome into the bosom of the nation a population that they now saw as traitors.

The Union, now victorious, found itself in the position of “the dog that caught the car”. The challenge for America in the latter half of the 19th century, then, was how to reforge a unified nation from two peoples that despised each other. It seemed impossible at first, and the mutual hatred of North and South burned hotly for decades afterwards, poisoning every aspect of national life, politics in particular.

It became clear that for the nation to live and flourish again as “one nation, under God — the restoration of the Union having been, after all, the stated purpose of the war — that some sort of truly heartfelt reconciliation would have to happen, one that would require genuine forgiveness on both sides. This would never be possible if North and South continued to exist as victor and vanquished, as master and cur. The proud people of the South would have to give up their cause; they would have to surrender in their hearts as finally they had on the battlefield. The North would have to accept the South as family again, and lift its boot from their necks. The great fear was that if the North loosened its grip, the South, its blood still hot with repressed fury, would rise again in defiance. (The great Robert E. Lee foreseeing this, in the moment of surrender told his people not to fight on in a bloody insurgency, but to accept defeat and lay down their arms.)

Gradually, little by little (and funeral by funeral), this national reconciliation was achieved. To build a coherent American nation from the wreckage, the North would forgive the South, lift the sanctions it had imposed, withdraw its troops, and allow the defeated to honor the memories of their dead. To this end there were great celebrations of unity and mutual forgiveness throughout the nation, and the Confederate dead were honored with memorial statuary in American cities and towns. Perhaps the most sanctifying gesture was the decision to allow the remains of fallen Confederate soldiers to be interred in the hallowed ground of Arlington National Cemetery, where, with the approval of then-Secretary of War William H. Taft, a monument to the memory of the Old South, and to its beating of its swords into plowshares in the interest of peace and unity, was unveiled in 1914.

Today, at a time of bitter national fracture, the spirit of unity and forgiveness that slowly healed that awful wound is gone, forgotten. In its place we see a reawakening of the haughty and merciless spirit of the North in the wake of the first civil war, even as the prospect of another seems likelier every day.

Service Notice

I’m just putting a placeholder here lest anyone think the blog is sinking back into desuetude (I’m not going to let that happen again). It’s Christmas season, and there’s a lot going on around here — for example, tonight we went to Chandler Travis’s annual Christmas Cavalcade charity show here on the Cape, which was a raucous evening of music both great and awful (as for the latter, the show included a set of Christmas songs played by a four-piece slide-whistle “consortium”).

I am also working my way through replacing (finally!) the ten-year-old computer that is the heart of my Pro Tools mixing-studio setup, which is an immensely tedious process involving re-installing and re-licensing a horrifying amount of software, as well as moving physical cards and drives. The task has eaten up two days so far, and bids fair to take up much of tomorrow as well.

Back soon.

Nice Work If You Can Get It

I see that a jury has just ordered Rudy Giuliani to pay two Georgia election workers the stupendous sum of $148,000,000 for some things he said about them regarding the 2020 election.

I will confess that I had known nothing whatsoever about this ongoing trial until hearing this news today, but I will say that when it comes to allegations of vote-counting shenanigans in Georgia that night, I’m inclined by default to believe they are true. It seems to me also that this mind-boggling award, which of course Mr. Guiliani has no chance of paying, seems intended far more to destroy him, and to make an example of him pour encourager les autres , than to seek anything conceivably resembling “justice”. It seems much more aligned with the persecution and destruction of Derek Chauvin, the January 6th protestors, and the Brunswick 3, than what we in America used to call the “rule of law”.

Indeed, there is really no such thing as the “rule of law”, because law in itself is only an abstraction. There is only ever the rule of those who write laws, and those who pardon or punish by invoking, applying, or ignoring them as they see fit.

Another Friend Gone

I am very sorry to say that our longtime e-pal (and commenter) Bill Keezer has died. Our friend the Maverick Philosopher has written a remembrance of him, here.

Rest in peace, Bill. It was a pleasure, and a gift, to have known you all these years.

It’s Not A Feature, It’s A Bug

There’s a branch of science called “forensic entomology”. It’s used in criminal investigations to determine the time of death for corpses by examining them to see what species of insects have invaded the body. There are specific timelines for this, depending on where the body is found, and I understand that it provides a pretty accurate estimate.

The underlying principle, of course, is that the difference between living things and dead things is that living things make a necessary distinction between “self” and “other”, and take care to prevent bodily invasion by foreign organisms. Dead things, on the other hand, have stopped doing this.

I suppose it’s fair to say that this is one sure-fire way to tell if a thing is alive or dead (or at least dying, and so close to the end that it’s lost the ability to prevent such intrusions, or given up on trying).

With that in mind, have a look at this article, published today in American Greatness.

Now, Where Was I…?

A great deal has been going on in America and the world since I last updated this blog with any regularity, so there’s an awful lot of backlog for me to pick up and comment on. Let’s start with Ukraine.

When I left off, the war in Ukraine was still, more or less, the Current Thing. People still had all those blue-and-yellow flags in their lawns; Congress still had no apparent qualms about opening America’s checkbook and armories to the grifter Zelenskyy (despite nobody making any reliable accounting of where all that largesse actually ended up), and normie-Americans still seemed to imagine that with sufficient support plucky little Ukraine (the good guys!) would, somehow, prevail against the barbarous Russians (the bad guys). As some of us knew all along, however, this was utterly delusional, and almost two years in, that appealing fantasy is pretty much over. (I’d be surprised if Ukraine gets so much as a box of .22 LR from this point on.)

The Imperium of the United States has disgraced itself repeatedly in foreign affairs in recent years; from Libya, to Iraq, to Afghanistan, and now Ukraine, we leave behind us a trail of shattered nations and broken lives — bought at an incalculable cost in blood, treasure, and national prestige. As we sat home in comfort, applauding Mr. Zelenskyy, cheering for the war we and NATO (but I repeat myself) ignited, and keeping the meat-grinder working, Ukraine has lost perhaps half a million dead, many more irrecoverably maimed, and has exhausted itself to the point of sending old men and pregnant women off to be slaughtered. Meanwhile the carnage, and mass emigration, have reduced Ukraine’s population by half, and destroyed its economy. The nation’s pensioners are supported, for now, by American taxpayers, but that can’t go on much longer. Meanwhile, with our sanctions and sabotage against Russian oil and gas having backfired, we have managed to drive Russia and China more closely together, to wreck the energy economy of our vassal states in Europe, and to destabilize the U.S. dollar’s position as the world’s reserve currency.

The infamy of this misadventure is compounded by the venality of our First Family’s long and corrupt association with the nation we have so casually destroyed.

With the certainty of failure, those who manage public opinion will turn the page. Already, other shiny objects — the ructions in Gaza, the presidential elections — divert our attention. Ukraine, its international support gone, and standing alone and helpless, will try to offer terms to Russia, but it is far too late for that. Russia will take what it wants, and like Melos so long ago, Ukraine will be gone — and soon forgotten.

The American empire is dying, as empires so often do, of hubris, folly, overextension, and spiritual exhaustion. We should be deeply, bitterly ashamed of what we have done to Ukraine. History will not be kind.

Okay, Okay…

I know I’ve said this before, but I really am going to get this blog going again now. (I may start with a post about what happened to me to make me lay off for as long as I did, or I may not; doing so might be just a bit too omphaloskeptic — and even worse for the reader, boring.)

For today, let’s pick up where I left off two months ago, which is the war in Gaza. Recently I had begun putting together a post of my own about all the bogus “pro-Palestinian” ructions we’ve been seeing everywhere. (Why are they “bogus”? Because nobody really cares about Palestinian civilians: if they truly did, they’d be screaming for Hamas to release their hostages and stop using their own people as human shields. Instead we’re just seeing people enjoy one of the oldest of human pleasures in this fallen world, namely the ecstatic feeling of being part of an angry mob howling for power and revenge.)

As it happens, though, just now I ran across a month-old post, from “The Writer Formerly Known As Moldbug”, that does a better job of this than I was about to, and more. (I have to hand it to the man; despite his having been immersed for a few years now in the warm, scented soak-bath of celebrity, he still has some zip on his serve.)

You can read his essay here. (It’s quite brief, by Moldbuggian standards.)

I’ll be back soon. It might take me a while to get the old muscles limbered up, and to rouse the Muse from her slumber, but I’ll post something — even if it’s just some brief remarks or a link to something interesting, with regularity.

The Widening Gyre

All eyes are on Israel today after Hamas launched a vicious assault from Gaza with widespread atrocities against civilians. This is one of those days where the tectonic plates suddenly slip, releasing destructive energy and reshaping the landscape.

The scope and coordination of the operation make it clear that it has been carefully planned; it seems overwhelmingly likely that Iran, newly flush with cash, has played a central role. The timing, on the 50th anniversary, to the day, of the Yom Kippur war, was obviously carefully chosen as well: Western resources have been severely strained by the war in Ukraine, and Benjamin Netanyahu’s recent return to power guarantees a massively destructive IDF response, which will galvanize anti-Israel sentiment throughout the Arab and Muslim world. (It will be very likely, for example, to fracture the recent Saudi-Israel entente.)

The timing also could not be better for Russia’s interests in Ukraine. Although it may have seemed to inattentive observers here in the West that the war in Ukraine has been deadlocked for several months, the truth is that the West has at this point bled Ukraine almost to death, and for months now has been looking for a narrative that enables it to walk away, as popular support for the endless and futile cost has withered away in America and elsewhere. Events in Israel will now provide the perfect excuse for us to divert our attention and resources. We should expect a sharp intensification of Russian action on the Ukrainian front over the next days and weeks.

Israel will now have little choice but to pulverize Gaza and Hamas; the previous era is over. If this really is, as seems likely, a coordinated action by Russia and Iran to advance the interests of both powers, it will have required a great deal of planning and logistics. Did all that really happen without the vaunted Israeli intelligence apparatus catching wind of it? That’s hard to imagine. Did Israel know this was coming, and thought that it would provide justification for doing what it has long felt it would sooner or later have to do in Gaza? Did they underestimate how severe the assault would be?

What happens next? This is a major event, and the repercussions and aftershocks are going to reverberate for a long time to come; I think this is just the beginning.

Stay safe, make sure your affairs are in order, and keep your powder dry.

P.S. Keep in mind also that our strategic petroleum reserve was recently depleted by this administration in order to diminish grumbling about skyrocketing fuel prices. If Iran now blocks the Strait of Hormuz, that great big chicken will come home to roost.

Where Matters Stand

A Disease Of The Heart

Published at City Journal today: a scathing article by my friend Jim Meigs on our shameful response to COVID-19, and how those in power at the highest levels of our public and private institutions (looking at you, Drs. Fauci and Collins) worked to suppress dissent and debate, interfere with legitimate inquiry into the disease’s origins, steer public-health policy for purely political ends — and, in particular, to cover their own asses when things got hot.

The article is long, but every word of it is well worth your time. (My only critique of the piece is that I wish Jim had mentioned that during this period Anthony Fauci was the highest-paid of all the federal government’s four million employees, making well over $400,000 a year.)

COVID itself was bad enough, but pandemics pass. The sickness Jim describes in this essay is far, far worse — and the prognosis is not good.

Read it here. And don’t be surprised if you suddenly remember what “tumbrels” are.

Catastrophizing The Weather

Yesterday’s deluge in New York City was a substantial and frightening event. In Park Slope, Brooklyn, where I lived for 40 years before selling up and moving out (thank goodness!), the flooding at the bottom of the moraine was up to the windows of stranded cars.

As with every notable weather event these days, from floods to droughts, heatwaves to cold-snaps, and anything in between, this one brought out a Greek chorus on social and other media to pin the blame on “climate change”.

Not so fast, says earth-science professor and “political orphan” Dr. Matthew Wielicki, who maintains a Substack page called Irrational Fear. In a post published today, he reminds us that the Great Storm of 1882 dropped eight inches of rain on Gotham in a single day, while atmospheric CO2 was at a paltry 290 parts per million. He also presents this chart to show there there doesn’t seem to be any general trend with these deluges:

Read the whole thing here.

Oh, And…

Worm that jumps from rats to slugs to human brains has invaded Southeast US
 

Been Slow, I Know

Once again I must apologize for the spotty content here lately (aside from the item I popped up for discussion yesterday, which is really just me picking at a very old scab from a different direction).

I’ve had enough of jeremiads about the state of our decline and misrule; it would be easy enough to write a new one each day, but that job is more than adequately taken. So is the task of explaining, from various theoretical perspectives, how we got here: I’ve done plenty of that over the years, and lots of people are still doing good work in that department (see, for example, Auron Macintyre).

At this point I have little to add that I haven’t already said many times over. Most of what I’d write about current events at this point would consist mainly of “See? I told you so!” — or at this point, maybe something more like “Fly, you fools!!”.

What’s left is to figure out how we get ourselves out of this mess — but frankly, it’s all probably just going to run its dismal and destructive course, as it always has in the past, always and everywhere. Things will be a little different this time round, perhaps, because technology is going to allow the mills to grind “exceeding small” compared to anything that was possible in the past (and because we seem to be, compared to earlier times, more stupid and ignorant than ever), but the great cycles will turn as they always do.

If all that sounds a bit glum, not to worry – I’m fine over here, and have been distracting myself with other things: music, reading, swimming, chess, working on the house, spending time with my lovely wife, and all the other things that a gentleman of “a certain age” is supposed to enjoy. I just haven’t been inclined to write much.

That, of course, may change! You never know with these things; the Muse is fickle and capricious, and the Fall is coming (in both senses of the word). Do check in.

Spot The Error

(Spoiler: I can’t.)

Found here.

Just Wondering

I hear there was some sort of political debate last night. How did it go?

From The Workshop

Although I no longer have to mix records to pay the bills, I still love to do what I do best, and so I enjoy doing a few projects a year in Hiram Hill Studio, the superbly equipped little mixing room I have here at home.

This spring I mixed a five-song compositional-jazz EP for a wonderful musician (and new friend!) by the name of Joseph Henry Cortese (a lavishly gifted drummer, composer, and recording engineer who is also the pastor of Crossroads Tabernacle in New York). It came out very well, I think — every aspect of this record, from the compositions and arrangements, to the playing, to the pristine recordings Joseph made in his own studio, is top-notch — and I’m proud to have been a part of it.

Have a listen here.

A Mathematician’s Case For Belief In God

This entry is part 7 of 8 in the series Pilgrim's Progress.

Here is a brief and almost impossibly concise rationalist apologia for Christian belief, given by the Oxford mathematician John Lennox.

I’ll quote just two little gems from his speech. The first:

“People are so desperate now to show that the universe created itself from nothing – which seems to me to be an immediate oxymoron: if I say ‘X created Y’, I am assuming the existence of X to explain the existence of Y; if I say ‘X created X’, I’m assuming the existence of X to explain he existence of X — which simply shows that nonsense remains nonsense even if high-powered scientists utter it. It reminds me a little bit of G. K. Chesterton, who said ‘It is absurd to complain that it is unthinkable for an unbthinkable God to make everything out of nothing, and then to pretend that it is more thinkable that nothing should turn itself into everything.'”

I think this one’s even better:

“Science, of course marvelous as it is, is limited. Even a Nobel Prize winner, by analyzing a cake, cannot tell why it was made. But Ant Matilda, who made it, can tell you! She can reveal it to you . But if she doesn’t reveal it to you, you’ll never know… It’s the same with the Universe. We can analyze it magnificently — but ultimately, if it has a Maker (and I believe it has), only He can tell you what it’s all about.”

Watch the whole thing; it’s only fifteen minutes long.

Dog Days

Sorry — even though the kids and grandkids (who were here for more than a month) have gone, I still haven’t been writing much here at the blog. We’re still in that lazy summer mode, and have been fully occupied with, as they say, “touching grass” (and, in our case, sand and water as well). And now we have guests again, so…

I have, however, been engaged in a discussion over at Bill V’s place, if you’d like to have a look. (And speaking of Dr. V., I will thank him for calling to my attention this excellent article by “N. S. Lyons” at Substack — a fantastic distillation of the ideas of Burnham, Higgs, Pareto, Schmitt, Machiavelli, Michels, and others on the subject of the managerial state. It’s long, but wonderfully concise, and well worth your time.)

Huge If True!

Korean researchers are reporting that they have developed an easy-to-make room-temperature superconductor. If so — well, hang on to your hats, folks.

Story here.

Update, 8/10: Never mind.

Oy Vey!

Now it’s Israel’s turn to fall apart. The country is engulfed in a constitutional crisis between its old-school Bolheveist left (cheered on, of course, by the usual organs of the Left, both there and here) and those in the center and on the Right (who, according to our mass media, are “authoritarian” “extremists” who want to “remove checks and balances” as a way to “destroy democracy”).

At issue is the unchecked power of Israel’s Supreme Court, a self-appointed body accountable to no-one, which has for decades now increased the scope of its sovereignty at the expense of both the legislature and executive, and now rules as arbitrarily, over every aspect of civic life, as an Ottoman sultan.

I know that things are breaking down rapidly in pretty much every modern democracy, but the slope of that slide seems to have steepened very sharply in Israel lately.

One thing to take note of: as always, it’s that all-too-familiar type — those brainy uplifters and Utopia-builders who wreck things always and everywhere — who’ve been trying to grab all the power and tell everybody what to do. And don’t let yourself be lied to: the Israeli Supreme Court no longer pays any attention whatsoever to cheeky little impertinences like “elected representatives”, “the popular will”, or “legislation”. Nor has it for a very long time now.

You are only likely to hear one side of the story from any major media around here — so to give you a little perspective on what’s really going on over there and why, here’s a three-part article that should give you a clearer view.

Divide And Conquer

The always-thoughtful Richard Fernandez posted the following thread recently on Twitter:

The catastrophic loss of institutional trust has made it imperative for the establishment to roll out virtual reality, not through goggles and special chairs, but by manipulating the entire information environment so that we live inside a lie.

One way to detect that you are inside an info bubble is to watch for a sudden rise and fall of overhyped policies, like manipulated stocks. Two recent candidates are COVID boosterism and trans mania. Today the world depends on it, then tomorrow it’s let’s move on.

Now that Google has found a way to get AI to actually write the news, it’s possible to micro adjust the information environment around us in near real time to produce a very plausible fake world where everything beyond your immediate ken is curated.

Once we are all confined to 15 Minute Cities what can we really know what lies beyond our sight except through our networked devices? Already as I walk down the street I see more and more people heads down on their phones. That’s the world to them.

I was immediately reminded of this, from Daniel Dennett’s 1987 book Consciousness Explained:

When your eyes dart about in saccades, the muscular contractions that cause the eyeballs to rotate are ballistic actions: your fixation points are unguided missiles whose trajectories at lift-off determine where and when they will hit ground zero at a new target. For instance, if you are reading text on a computer screen, your eyes will leap along a few words with each saccade, farther and faster the better a reader you are. What would it be like if a magician, a sort of Cartesian evil demon on a modest scale, could change the world during the few milliseconds your eyes were darting to their next destination? Amazingly, a computer equipped with an automatic eye-tracker can detect and analyze the lift-off in the first few milliseconds of a saccade, calculate where ground zero will be, and, before the saccade is over, erase the word on the screen at ground zero and replace it with a different word of the same length. What do you see? Just the new word, and with no sense at all of anything having been changed. As you peruse the text on the screen, it seems to you for all the world as stable as if the words were carved in marble, but to another person reading the same text over your shoulder (and saccading to a different drummer) the screen is aquiver with changes.

The effect is overpowering. When I first encountered an eye-tracker experiment, and saw how oblivious subjects were (apparently) to the changes flickering on the screen, I asked if I could be a subject. I wanted to see for myself. I was seated at the apparatus, and my head was immobilized by having me bite on a “bite bar.” This makes the job easier for the eye-tracker, which bounces an unnoticeable beam of light off the lens of the subject’s eye, and analyzes the return to detect any motion of the eye. While I waited for the experimenters to turn on the apparatus, I read the text on the screen. I waited, and waited, eager for the trials to begin. I got impatient. “Why don’t you turn it on?” I asked. “It is on,” they replied.

Gurdjieff, somewhere (I can’t remember where), said that the more conscious people become, the more they inhabit a shared, objective reality. In a roomful of sleepers, by contrast, each person inhabits a separate, subjective dream-world. The job, then, is for anyone who might awaken for a moment to try to rouse those around him before he yields again to the seductive pull of sleep.

Who is easier to rule? The sleeping, or the awakened? Will it not be in the interest of power, as our technology advances, to use it to lull each of us into our own personally customized, AI-tailored dreamland? And when our little screens are soon made obsolete by neural implants promising us the illusion of power, who will say no?

Anthony Bouza, October 4, 1928 – June 26, 2023

I learned with great sadness the other day that my good friend of more than thirty years, Anthony V. Bouza, died late last month in his adopted hometown of Minneapolis. He was 94.

In his long career as a policeman Tony rose from his humble origins, and the lowest rank, to the penultimate pinnacle of power (and, I think it’s safe to say, the highest pinnacle of influence) in the NYPD, and then spent nine years as the chief of police in Minneapolis. In his career as a detective, he investigated some of the city’s highest-profile cases (such as the Malcolm X assassination, and the kidnapping and murder that led ultimately to the downfall of the Dominican dictator Trujillo), and as a high-ranking officer he guided his force through the great social disturbances and embroilments of the 60s and 70s. He was never one to shy away from controversy, and he was never intimidated by anyone; indeed, were it not for his inveterate and ornery inability simply to “go along to get along” he would almost certainly have become New York City’s Police Commissioner.

Tony (who had immigrated as a a boy from El Ferrol, Spain to Park Slope, Brooklyn) and his English wife Erica had a house on Drummer Cove here in Wellfleet, and spent summers here for many years. We first got to know them around 1990, back when we used to be summer renters here, and Nina became friends with Erica in an exercise class they both attended. We spent time with them every summer after that, until Tony and Erica both grew so aged a few years ago that the long drive between Minneapolis and here became just too much for them. They moved into a senior-care center, and although we kept in touch by the occasional letter or phone call, the only time we saw them after they stopped coming to the Cape was a quick visit when we were in Minneapolis in the spring of last year.

Tony, a towering autodidact (he was 6′ 6″), was one of the most extraordinary people I’ve ever known. He was one of those men whose presence, even when silent, filled the room, and he was rarely silent for long; he was big in every way, with a deep, booming voice. He was a man of strong opinions: though occasionally wrong, he was never in doubt. He was fantastically well-read, wrote copiously and well, had an enormous vocabulary, and was a keen student of history — especially the history of the Americas, South, North, and Central. He had a bawdy and mordant sense of humor, and used it far more often to poke fun at himself than others. (He was also, like so many immigrants who remember the hardship of life elsewhere well enough not to take anything for granted, an ardent American patriot.)

Above all, Tony had the heart and mind of the best sort of philosopher — a lover of wisdom and understanding, not for its own sake, or his, but because he believed that the truth of the world, correctly understood and rightly applied, could improve human flourishing, and increase the store of happiness in the world. He was, though, no starry-eyed optimist; the darkness he had seen and lived through in his long life and in his career as a cop meant that he well understood that mankind is flawed and crooked timber, from which nothing perfect could be wrought, and so he had a well-grounded skepticism of Utopian daydreams. Here he is, for example, on the use of violence by the police:

“I am an unapologetic supporter of the use of police violence, even lethal force, but it has to be guided by the law, the standards of reasonableness, and the U.S. Constitution. I have presided over clubbings, shootings, gassings, and other assaults by the police. I see violence as a key weapon in the police arsenal and I have trained cops in the full range of possibilities available to us. My only caveat is that the use of force has to be legally justified, measured, and appropriate, and that the weapons have to be in conformance with the law.”

His bluntness and realism made a lot of people angry, such as when, in 1976, he referred to black and Hispanic teenagers who had gone on a riotous spree as “feral”, and when he suggested that Roe v. Wade had been responsible, by causing a generation of such youths never to have been born, for the sharp decline in violent crime a couple of decades later. He was careless of making enemies in high places if he thought it was his duty to do so in order better to serve the public; knowing Tony as well as I did, I have very little doubt that whenever he thought so, he was usually right.

Having said all that, though, I’ll say that Tony and I had our disagreements. He was, despite his frankness about the limits and defects of human nature, nevertheless a man of the Left. This seemed contradictory to me at first, but the way I came to understand it was that he was an unshakeable believer in the supremacy of nurture over nature. This was, as far as I can recall, the only systematic error in his worldview, but it’s a doozy, and of course as the basis of a social philosophy it is an axiom that leads to all sorts of questionable (and costly) theorems. We locked horns often about this (he and I would sequester ourselves at parties to get away from all the small talk), but he was unbudgeable; any softening of his position would be, in his mind, a buttered slide to the abomination of racism. But even when we disagreed sharply — and this is something that is almost unheard-of these days — we could always disagree in a friendly and respectful way. (How rare is that now?) I remember that at some gathering or other, after we’d spent hours off in a corner haranguing each other on this topic (and I was getting the feeling that I was at last gaining the long-sought advantage), it grew late and Tony got up to go. He rose to his full height, gave me a great, twinkling smile, and stuck out his gigantic hand.

“Malcolm,” he said cheerily in his thunderous voice, “fuck you.” I never felt closer to him.

What a life this man had! I wish I’d been his friend for more of it, but I’m happy to have got the years I did. Requiescat in pace, my dear friend. I hate to lose you, and I will miss you always.

You can read Tony’s obituary here, and his books are available here.

Missouri v. Biden

Yesterday U.S. District Court Judge Terry Doughty gave us a fine Independence Day gift: a preliminary injunction against the government’s censorship of social-media content. The case built upon the government’s coercion of Facebook, Twitter, and other platforms to suppress commentary on COVID, the 2020 election, the Hunter Biden laptop, and other matters we should have been allowed freely to discuss and debate.

You can read the opinion, which concluded that the federal Leviathan seemed to have “assumed a role similar to an Orwellian ‘Ministry of Truth'”, here.

Service Notice

Happy Independence Day, everybody. Attending the 4th-of-July parade in a small New England town — lots of smiling happy families, and Old Glory on display everywhere — is a reminder that wherever things are headed in America, it ain’t over yet.

Our daughter, her husband, and our three young grandsons — Liam, almost seven, Declan, four, and Cooper, one and a half — arrived on Saturday (they live in Hong Kong, so we don’t see them much), and will be staying with us for the rest of the month. (Chaos! – but happy chaos.)

What this means is that I might not be writing much for the next few weeks (though you never know). Best to all.

Sailer At VDare

Steve Sailer recently gave his first public speech in a decade or so at VDare’s summer conference (which was held a couple of weeks ago at the castle they now own, in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia). Here it is:

Ukraine: Update

Here’s the latest assessment on the situation in Ukraine, from ~finnem capital:

Our latest analysis on the “counteroffensive”:

Despite claims that the counteroffensive “has not begun,” in fact, after the Armed Forces of Ukraine were stalled by highly effective strikes on brigade level depots of fuel and munitions, not to mention troop concentrations behind the lines, in the late spring, it seems clear that major offensive efforts have been underway since early June.

Forced to play for time with reduced objectives after the backfield strikes threw logistics into chaos, the Ukrainians have finally launched into offensive operations with attempts at everything from a general screening attack (just short of a full-blown offensive), to fixing attacks, to probes, along the entire line of contact in an effort to create concentration movements by the Russians in particular areas (and therefore dilutions in other areas). The June 4-12 operations are representative of the results of the best efforts Ukraine could mount earlier this month.

They did not go well:

The doomed assault by two or perhaps three of the five brigades under Ukraine’s 10th Operational Corps (Assault), specifically the 47th Separate Mechanised (Assault) Brigade (which sported Leopards given to Ukraine plus more than 50 M2 Bradley IFVs and troops trained at U.S. bases in Germany) and the Ukrainian 33rd Mechanised Brigade (which also fielded Leopards, including the much praised 2A6) and possibly the 21st Mechanised Brigade, is an important datapoint.

The 10th Operational Corps was specifically stood up as an overall structure for assault formations, that is, to field offensive combat power. Aside from the 47th and the 33rd, it contains the 37th Marine Brigade, a light mechanised force intended to be highly mobile to conduct reconnaissance and probing operations and equipped with British Mastiff MRAPs and AMX-10RCs, the French reconnaissance vehicles the Western press amusingly took to labelling “wheeled tanks”.

The 10th also contains the 82nd Air Assault Brigade which was created from the remains of the 25th Airborne Brigade and the 80th Air Assault Brigade, and, since Russian air superiority in theatre means Ukraine cannot deploy rotor craft to execute the unit’s Air Assault function, the 82nd was given the famous Challenger 2 tanks provided by the UK (who gives 75 ton Main Battle Tanks to an Air Assault unit?), and Stryker infantry fighting vehicles lend-leased by the U.S., and German Marder infantry fighting vehicles.

The 10th also contains the 21st Mechanised Brigade, which appears to be stocked with Leopard tanks as well, but about which little other information is available.

In total, Ukraine is thought to have created eight new assault brigades for the counteroffensive. That three of these (more than a third of the total mechanised assault groupings) were committed to a disastrous assault early this month (depicted in the infamous and disheartening minefield video) [Not going to link that here – MP] would seem to expose as fiction any claims that operations earlier this month were merely “battlefield prep.”

Instead, the goal of such a serious screening attack would be to allow the restructured and reformed forces (logistics work that has been mostly completed as of this writing) to poke a hole somewhere and identify an axis where the rest of the “best” Ukrainian units (NATO trained and equipped) could push with a 7-9 brigade force of secondary units (i.e. 20,000 – 30,000 troops at the new reduced standard of 2,000 men per Ukrainian brigade) that waits in reserve.

The issue now that those efforts have been rebuffed is that most of these reserve units are not assault units, and the highest grade assault units under the 10th Operational Corps have been badly mauled. We see signs of confirmation here where recent prisoners taken by the Russians have disclosed that they were in traditionally defensive units but nevertheless pressed into assault roles, roles for which they have received no training.

The fact that hundreds if not thousands of personnel, including large populations of NATO / foreign mercenary forces, are lingering around in places like Kramatorsk, less than 30 kilometres behind the front, demonstrates the issue. The Russian strike there purportedly was targeting a brigade level command post, in particular the leadership element of the 56th Motorised Brigade, a non-assault formation which has been augmented with a hefty fleet of T-72 Main Battle Tanks including T-72M1 and T-72M1R tanks from Poland for the counteroffensive. The 56th is the sort of unit that would be expected to exploit any breakthrough of Russian lines, so its presence at Kramatorsk is understandable. In fact, several prisoners from the 56th have also been captured in the Kherson region in the last few weeks. Lacking proper assault formations that are combat-ready, the Ukrainian ground forces are faced with a number of difficulties.

Since Ukrainian efforts to prompt dilutive manoeuvres by the Russian forces have failed to meet any of their objectives, and every day that passes sees Ukraine’s shiny new assault capability either mauled in the field well in front of Russian defensive lines, or degraded by Russian strikes, there would seem to be only one option remaining for Ukraine if it wishes to continue offensive operations: it must pick an axis and mount an all-out assault with the support of whatever aviation and GBAD assets are still in a condition to conduct combat operations. This will necessarily cause Ukraine to initiate precisely what it was attempting to inflict on Russian operations: concentrative manoeuvres to create a Centre of Gravity for an assault, manoeuvres that necessarily result in dilutive effects elsewhere, effects that the Russians, with strong aerial and space-based reconnoissance assets, will see immediately. Effects that will also thin out already scarce anti-air resources and permit Russian deep-strikes to do even more damage.

The two open questions that remain for us:

1. Will Ukraine launch “the final battle” or will they return to a defensive operational posture and try to deter a major Russian operation on the ground, but face the constant attrition cost of Russia’s deep-strike capabilities?

2. As things look increasingly grim for Ukraine’s military aspirations in the theatre, will NATO step up intervention in the only way it is now possible to do so: NATO troops commanded by NATO leadership on the ground in Ukraine?

Our friend ~finnem offers detailed analysis that you won’t find elsewhere. Stay tuned for further updates.

Separation Anxiety, Cont’d: Michael Anton Replies to “Anonymous”

A couple of days ago I posted some commentary on Michael Anton’s recent article on “national divorce”. Asylum magazine has now made available online Michael Anton’s response to an anonymous reader’s critique of his dialogue on the topic of “national divorce”. (You can read it here.)

Mr. Anton seems irritated; his rejoinder is titled “How To Read Dialogues”, and he scolds “Anonymous” (not directly, but in what’s known these days as a “subtweet”) by quoting Leo Strauss to the effect that “a certain bewilderment is the beginning of wisdom”. What he seeks to correct is the ascription of his character Tom’s views to Mr. Anton himself; he offers, as an example, that it would be wrong to assume that when Macbeth speaks, he speaks for Shakespeare himself. (Having made such an ascription myself, I suppose I’m guilty as well — but while I wouldn’t suggest that Aaron the Moor is Shakespeare presenting himself, I do suspect that there may be considerable overlap between Mr. Anton’s take on “divorce” and his fictional character Tom’s.)

In his response, Anton rightly points out that the dialogue form has been throughout history a way for controversial thinkers to avoid censorship (or worse): frogs in the West today have good reason to worry about the consequences of public expression of their heresies, and Mr. Anton is brave to have said as much in public as he already has. He also, and also rightly, reminds us that in order to assess our situation, and to deliberate our options, we need to be able to present conflicting positions of the great questions at hand, and that’s what his dialogue was for.

We read:

The value of the dialogue in modern discourse should then be obvious. The censor’s hand is stronger than it has been in centuries and the tools available to him are unprecedented. Censorship may not be the least of our problems but it is a huge problem, and one directly related to our greater problems. It’s hard to know what to do, and harder still when one is not allowed to talk about it. Which is the whole purpose of censorship: to forbid and, if necessary, persecute discussion of alternatives.

This leaves us with three options: forgo discussion, charge ahead heedlessly, or find other ways. The first is contemptible and guarantees failure.

Agreed. Reading on:

As to the second, too many who see clearly the vileness of the present regime appear to believe that direct charges at its authority are the highest priority and indeed the highest good. At their worst, they attack people on their side for failing to say what they personally demand must be said, even—again, especially—if saying it guarantees instant cancellation. They assume either that anything not said must also be a thing not believed, even a thing contradicted, or else that prudence and caution can only be signs of cowardice or treason. Often they insist on both at the same time.

It’s tempting to respond: “Fine, if you want to sacrifice yourself for nothing, charge that machine gun and get shot.” But in fact the consequences of such bravado do not fall on the heedless alone. While heedlessness may be courageous, it also carries costs for those affiliated or associated with, even merely sympathetic to, the heedless. You are not helping your cause by saying things that guarantee the harsh reaction of the regime against your ideas and those who hold them, even—perhaps especially—if the things you say are true. Right now, only the left has the power to smash through the Overton window. We by contrast must nudge it open carefully and slowly. I realize that we’re running out of time, but that doesn’t make breaking glass any more useful at this moment. Besides, to compound the metaphor, anyone who has ever lived in an old house knows that a stuck window, gently worked for a bit, can suddenly become unstuck and fly open. But patience and care are required.

Anton is right about this as well. Curtis Yarvin has spoken often in recent years about the asymmetry of the playing field we find ourselves competing on: dissidents in the West at the moment should regard themselves as prey species in a landscape populated by powerful predators. Indeed, even I worried a bit about the frankness with which I spoke about an “appeal to heaven” in my previous post; and as a retired geezer with no need of employment, I am far less “cancellable” than most people.

Anton continues:

The flipside to counterproductive bravado is the conclusion that nothing big can be done because everything beyond smallball will necessarily fail. So why talk about things that can’t be done?

I think this is what vexes Anton about his anonymous reader’s response: it is a broad-spectrum blackpill that gives up on both divorce and defiant resistance: the former is deemed impossible, the latter futile. (Which they may well be!)

If Anton is objecting to anything here, I think it is to despair. He continues:

It’s a cliché, but not therefore false, to respond that if every dreamer were this “sensible,” then mankind would never have accomplished anything. It is also true that the doing of great deeds will once again require the coupling of great imagination with great daring. Of course, as always, both will have to be tempered by prudence, but a genuine prudence that recognizes the occasional necessity of risk, not the faux prudence which some hold to be synonymous with timidity.

This situation is dire; it is not hopeless. (And let me say as an aside, when you put me of all people in the position of dispensing white pills, that you are too blackpilled.) It is never hopeless because, first, one never knows what may happen. Virtue doesn’t always win, but it often does, and is only certain to lose when it doesn’t try. Second, fortune is capricious and does not consistently favor (as far as the human mind can discern) either side in any struggle. Third, adversaries make mistakes, even unforced errors. Fourth, despite its pretensions, this … thing cannot last forever. Even one of its own founders and most committed partisans admitted as much.II Fifth, and perhaps most encouraging, “there is no reason for despair as long as human nature has not been conquered completely i.e., as long as sun and man still generate man. There will always be men (andres) who will revolt against a state which is destructive of humanity or in which there is no longer a possibility of noble action and of great deeds.”

I might also point out that many of the essays culminating in recommendations to do small things have an almost laughably anticlimactic quality. They sketch problems so huge they could only be addressed by grand solutions, only to propose … running for school board. Not to dismiss or ridicule running for school board. This and many other limited, local actions are going to have to be taken. They may even be (and likely are) indispensable foundation for future success. But if our problems are as large as these same authors assert, then such solutions cannot possibly be sufficient.

So I repeat the truism that, to know what to do, one must first debate what to do, which includes discussing the pros and cons of options that will eventually be ruled out. But the discussion must take place. Choosing smallball in advance is self-limiting, and will prove to be a mistake until and unless it is known that smallball will be sufficient and/or that all alternatives are impossible. Preemptive exclusions tend to cultivate defeatism.

Now we must, in fairness, note that “Anonymous” was “discussing the pros and cons of options that will eventually be ruled out”; to be more precise, he was debating the case made by “Tom” for national divorce. And “Anonymous”, too, tried his best to avoid the black pill, and made more or less the same case for prudence that Anton made:

As bad as the situation is, there is a lot to be positive about in America today. The grassroots protests against lockdown policies had a massive impact on bringing them to a close. Parents have taken a much more active role in fighting back against dangerous ideologies pushed in their children’s schools. Even the chaos and surrender that defined the Floyd Riots was contrasted with the enormous personal bravery of citizen groups and impromptu law enforcement formations, people who just wanted to help. It seems like many more people are paying attention now. This is truly great, but it is very important that that massive energy be harnessed into something productive, that can last for decades, as opposed to ultimately empty rhetoric about a potential suicide run against the US military.

So, in closing, I think that yes, perhaps both “Anonymous” and I were too quick to ascribe Tom’s opinions to Anton himself, but I think Anonymous was right to point out, in the spirit of debate and discussion, that of all the possibilities before us a genuine split of the United States into noncontiguous Red and Blue countries is probably the least plausible future of all. I think we all would also agree that armed revolt is — despite whatever swashbuckling fantasies certain types of naive young men may secretly harbor — a horrifying prospect, and should only be considered when all else has failed beyond all hope, and the only remaining choices are immediate, kinetic resistance or permanent subjugation to tyranny. Finally, I think that all three of us will agree that some sort of “middle way” would be best, if only we can find it; best of all would be if the accelerating obscenities of our Progressive overlords manage, at long last, to awaken enough of the good and decent people of this nation that we can find the will simply to stand up together and say NO.

Separation Anxiety

I’ve just read an engaging pair of articles at Asylum magazine: an item by Michael Anton on the possibility of “national divorce”, in which he makes the case for breaking up the United States, and a rebuttal to Anton’s position by an anonymous author. (You can read Michael Anton’s original post here, and the response from “Anonymous” here. Apparently Mr. Anton has posted a reply of his own in the latest issue, but I haven’t yet been able to find it published online.)

I’ll say up front that I’m an admirer of Michael Anton: he’s one of conservative America’s most important thinkers, and he writes as well as he thinks. (I was flattered to have Mr. Anton respond to a post I’d written here a few years back, and to have exchanged some correspondence.) He understands the severity of the crisis we face in America, and he doesn’t shy away from engaging with serious thinkers whom mainstream pundits would consider dangerously radioactive (such as Curtis Yarvin and BAP). I respect his steadfast commitment to the principles of the American Founding, even if we may disagree about some (rather important) technicalities.

In his Asylum article, Anton presents a dialogue between two ex-friends in diametric political and axiomatic opposition: a conservative, “Tom”, modeled after himself, and a condescending Blue-state left-wing intellectual (who is, it pains greatly me to report, named “Malcolm”).

Tom tries to make the case for a peaceful and mutually agreed-upon breakup of the United States, on the wholly sensible grounds that a) the Left despises us and everything we believe in, and b) that it is unjust for the Blue ruling class, who have managed to put in place an unbeatable electoral advantage by way of mass immigration and shameless election-fudging, to rule us forever without our consent. Why, he asks, would Blue even want to continue sharing a nation with us, if we’re so awful?

Malcolm, of course, is having none of it, on the wholly sensible (to him) grounds that a) such a breakup would be costly and inconvenient; b) it would be wrong to give evil people like Red-state Americans a free hand to oppress women and minorities, and c) it’s good to be the King.

My sympathies, of course, are with “Tom”. Surely the most gentlemanly and civilized way to resolve this crisis (and I flatter myself that I am both of those things) would be an amicable parting of the ways, however difficult that might be to arrange (and Mr. Anton does a remarkably thorough job of enumerating the many difficulties it would involve, and honestly acknowledges that some of them may be impossible to overcome).

That said, though, I feel that there is something craven about Tom’s side in this dialogue. Both he and Malcolm acknowledge that Tom’s faction (our faction!) has no real leverage, and so Tom’s case begins to sound like nothing more than begging for mercy. It’s clear that Blue holds the whip hand: as long as we play by the rules, we lose (and there’s an asymmetry there: Tom’s side, which is loyal to the Founding, to law and order, and to what shreds remain of the Constitution, is clearly the one that cares the most about “the rules”). Given the demographic replacement that has already happened, the total victory of the Left in their half-century “long march” through all of our institutions, and the irreparable loosening and corruption of our electoral system, it’s hard to imagine any scenario in which Red can save itself, by purely political action at the ballot box, from permanent subjugation. So why would Malcolm, or any other conqueror, simply give away the spoils of victory, merely to avoid the nugatory ill-will of the conquered? It makes no sense, and is almost unexampled in all of history. The tyranny of the majority is precisely what the Founders feared most about democracy, and they did their best to keep democracy tightly laced up — but they knew well that democracy is a powerful acid, and difficult to contain, and they knew well that things might come to this. (“A Republic, if you can keep it!”, said Franklin.) And here we are.

The Founders also knew well that the only remedy for tyranny, in the end, is what they called at the time “an appeal to heaven”: you screw your courage to the sticking place, and fight, and you win or you die.

“You have to know that if you tried it, you’d be crushed,” Malcolm said.

“Totally,” Tom replied. “And, to be clear, I’m not calling for anyone to take any action, much less a suicidal action.”

Well, then, Tom, given the concessions you make in this dialogue, I think you might as well resign yourself to subjugation. (As noted above, tyrants don’t just let go just because you’ve asked them nicely.)

In the anonymous response, also published at Asylum, the author raises solid objections to optimism about the success of national breakup: the lack of a coherent political theory on the American Right, lack of political will, imbalance of power, headwinds the new Red nation would face both here and abroad, etc. He asks a simple question:

All of this brings us back to the original question: Why? Anything close to a National Divorce would require a truly Herculean effort, a level of national political organizing not seen in America in hundreds of years. If this were to be achieved, why not simply take power in the United States using something resembling the normal process?

The objection to that, of course, is that the “normal process” — that is, the political process, involving winning elections — may already be foreclosed to us.

Our anonymous respondent closes, though, on an upbeat note:

As bad as the situation is, there is a lot to be positive about in America today. The grassroots protests against lockdown policies had a massive impact on bringing them to a close. Parents have taken a much more active role in fighting back against dangerous ideologies pushed in their children’s schools. Even the chaos and surrender that defined the Floyd Riots was contrasted with the enormous personal bravery of citizen groups and impromptu law enforcement formations, people who just wanted to help. It seems like many more people are paying attention now. This is truly great, but it is very important that that massive energy be harnessed into something productive, that can last for decades, as opposed to ultimately empty rhetoric about a potential suicide run against the US military.

What do I think about all this? Like “Anonymous” (why can’t people come up with snappy pen-names?), I think the project of actual breakup — the division of the United States into two geographically distinct nations — is a non-starter; it is simply too complicated and difficult. There may be, though, some sort of middle way: a Great Sorting of the citizenry into Red and Blue states. This is already beginning to happen, as people leave places like California to move to redder states like Florida, and to the extent that strong local governments in these places manage to push back on wokeness, it will also drive Blue-team folks out of those places. We may, over the next few years, see the “purpling” of states like Florida and Texas begin to reverse itself. But even if that happens, I doubt that the blue Leviathan in Washington is going to let up the pressure, and it will simply do with Federal law what Red states try to resist locally. The relentless concentration of power in the central managerial behemoth is going to make it hard for any real subsidiarian shift — any centrifugal dispersion of sovereignty — back to the States.

What’s left, then, if we can’t divorce, and we can’t make our abusers leave us alone? The only alternative to humiliating subjugation would be, as noted above, the civil war we all hope will never happen. We might very well lose; we would certainly bleed. (And the lack of cohesion on the Right would be as much of a problem in this scenario as in the purely political one; such a conflict would likely just consist of an irregular, if popular, resistance.) But at least we’d go down fighting.

Am I hoping for this, or advocating it? Emphatically not. As I’ve written elsewhere, civil war is a thing that nobody should wish for. A great political reversal, or failing that, an Anton-style national divorce, would be far better outcomes. But standing on one’s feet with dignity, even in a lost cause, is better — and more patriotically American! — than humiliating subjugation as a tyrannized minority.

As Jefferson said:

“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots & tyrants. It is its natural manure.”

Perhaps Macaulay said it best of all:

And how can man die better,
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his Gods?

Fog

What the hell’s going on in Russia? From the breathless coverage, you’d think it was a straight-up Wagner mutiny against MoD, with Prigozhin playing the role of Caesar, and already well across the Rubicon. But my sources (and I have some good ones) say that is way too pat. Yes, this is Russia, so sometimes chaos and dysfunction are simply that — but something very interesting is happening.

4-D chess? We’ll see.

Coming Apart

When societies are cohesive enough to be in good health, they argue about means; when they become dangerously disintegrated, they argue about ends.

Stewardship

My local paper, the Provincetown Independent, recently featured an item about the construction of a wetu in Truro, the village next door to my own here in the Outer Cape.

What is a “wetu”? It’s a small wood-framed structure, “built to withstand Cape Cod’s elements”, that was the traditional dwelling of Cape Cod’s indigenous Wampanoag tribe.

As you would expect, the event was well-attended. We read:

Visitors gathered inside to take shelter from the elements and observe details of the dome-shaped structure’s wood, rope, and bark construction. “It is a beautiful work of art and craft,” said Helen McNeil-Ashton, vice president of the Truro Historical Society, as she opened the ceremonies, noting that the way it was built symbolizes “the connections of family and community.”

Earlier in the day, Cape Cod National Seashore Supt. Brian Carlstrom joined state Rep. Sarah Peake and members of the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe to offer remarks about the dedication of the wetu. “Having the wetu built on this site recognizes the continued stewardship we share with the Wampanoag people,” said Carlstrom.

Seashore historian Bill Burke locked pinkies with Carol Wynne, a dancer from the Wampanoag Nation Singers and Dancers, and took a turn at the mosquito dance.

Weeden, a member of the Mashpee Wampanoag tribe, involved students and teachers from the Truro Central School in the project, teaching them some of the steps involved in building a wetu.

Here’s a picture of the wetu under construction:

And here’s the finished product:

While reading about this, it occurred to me that there’s a place in England also called Truro, after which our own little town here on the Cape is named. And just like the Wampanoags, the indigenous people of Truro, England, likewise had a knack for building durable, weather-resistant structures out of local materials. Here are a couple of pictures of one they put up a while back — Truro Cathedral — which also holds its own quite well, I think, as a “beautiful work of art and craft”:

So! Both Truros have a lot to be proud of. And it’s good to see that our schoolkids have learned to make a wetu. (I’m sure they’ll be learning all about the Cathedral, as well.)