Where we are and where we’re headed

The last half-decade has been an eye-opener for me.  No sooner did 5 fools in black robes discover a right for two men to marry then that right was being used to target Christians who refused to participate in the neo-pagan rite of homosexual marriage.  Bakers in Oregon were sued and their property confiscated.  A baker in Colorado was sued, won his Supreme Court case, and is now being persecuted again by the state of Colorado for refusing to bake a cake celebrating transgenderism.  Ministers have been sued for refusing to perform homosexual marriages.  Meanwhile, the government’s services to the public continue to decline.  The roads are rubble.  Hordes of homeless haunt our cities.  Illegal immigrants flood-in and murder.  I’ve lived through disastrous fires that were preventable.  I’ve watched my state threaten secession and fight with an elected president.  Finally, I’ve watched a Deep State coup by our federal agencies after they unsuccessfully colluded to elect Hillary Clinton.  It is to these federal agencies we now turn.

Last night, I attended a webinar on infiltration.  The presenter gave a case study on the Bundy take-over of the federal building in the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge.  The presenter gave weighty proof that at least 50% of Bundy’s group were federal infiltrators and informants, including the guys standing to right and left of this speaker. 

The speaker went on to describe another Utah militia member loosely-affiliated with the Bundys who was also infiltrated and was later convicted of trying to blow  up a federal building.  The presenter pointed out that these people were responsible for their own actions but the infiltrators vectored their targets into these actions through encouragement.  The government simultaneously uses its targets for propaganda purposes.  The presenter said that much of the militia movement, even the people offering prepper training in firearms, is infiltrated.  I wondered how it was legal for the government to guide and vector people into actions they otherwise wouldn’t commit.  It is apparently perfectly legal, but obviously highly unethical.  Many of our federal agencies are very close to becoming a Cheka.

I further wondered why the government spends so much time on these kooks when the drug cartels, Chinese, and Islamists are such a problem.  It finally dawned on me: McVeigh.  McVeigh blew up a federal building in the mid-90s in response to the Clinton administration and federal bureaucracy shooting a bunch of people at Ruby Ridge and barbecuing people in Waco.  He was painted as a militia member and definitely looks the part.  Even though this was almost a quarter-century ago, the government always fights the last war.  Our military, for example, is still set up to fight a two-front war against two nation-states as we did in WWII.  We’ve never learned the lesson from Vietnam so we continue to invade foreign countries with the intent of democratizing them like post-WWII Japan and Germany.  Look at Russiagate – our government is still fighting the Cold War and thinks Putin is trying to re-constitute the USSR.  Many defense industry people believe the same thing.  We went to war with the Al Qaeda organization, but only after they flattened the WTC and attacked the Pentagon.  They increased the amount of Muslim immigration after 2001, indicating they generally don’t see Islamism as a threat.  We remain cozy with Saudi Arabia that supplied 11 out of 19 hijackers and therefore remain a state sponsor of terror.

The government fights who it sees as a threat, both foreign and domestic.  Illegal immigrants wait on our bureaucrats and politicians in restaurants and make their hotel beds.  The cartels have never attacked Washington.  The Chinese haven’t bombed Pearl Harbor – they only steal IP and buy property and politicians which gives one government agency work to do about another.

Increasingly, though, the government will wage war against domestic enemies as its foreign influence continues to wane and Chinese power continues to grow.  Martin Van Creveld said the same thing in “The Rise and Decline of the State.”  The continuous defeats of nation-states by non-state actors in foreign wars is causing nation-states to turn their wars inward on their own citizens (subjects).  It’s bad-enough that the government is failing in its basic duties such as building infrastructure, protecting borders, property, and life.  Now, our government is like all the others where it looks after only itself indicating an increasing alienation between the government and at least half of the Americans governed.

As the century wears on, expect more palace politics in Washington, decreasing government competency and deliberate neglect of issues important to Americans, and wars between the government and all of the alternatives it’s inviting in from foreign countries. As the government’s own publications state: anticipate a new Dark Age.  This will require not only strong households (families) described by CR Wiley but also networks of households to provide the services the government used to provide.  Some states are in better shape than others, but ultimately the nation-state entity that is the US government is failing and the United States is a polyglot empire of 320 million, which is roughly the size of the USSR before it collapsed.  The United States is united by mammon and very little else.  If you network, there are risks.  Even though the State is obviating itself, it still wants to be the only option.  Bureaucrats know of very little outside their bubble .  Be sure therefore to vet whoever is in your network.

 

Excerpts from CR Wiley’s “Man of the House”

This is a short story from CR Wiley’s “Man of the House” in which he compares corporations to huge giants devouring our youth.  Last post, I talked about boycotting many of these corporations financially.  Wiley also recommends we compete with them through small business and in-home production as far as possible.  This also allows us to train our kids in the family business and deprive corporations of them.  Corporations don’t want to hire Americans anyways.  For all their talk about attracting top talent, the true amount they want to pay their workers is zero.  As the United States continues to decline, expect indentured servitude to follow corporate wage slavery.  We can avert Plantation America if we choose to. At least, those of us who want to can.  The Bible warns you not to become a slave and to buy your freedom if you are one (1 Corinthians 7:21-23).  Americans are in-between slavery and freedom, but we’re ready to become slaves since we’ve lost the ability to govern ourselves and our own households.  Let’s turn around.

Now to Wiley’s allegory.  My experience in corporate America agrees with this perfectly and I’ve wanted to start my own business for a long time.  I think this book has finally convinced me to try it rather than think about it forever.

There were giants in the land in those days, but fewer people than there used to be. Now the giants were the typical sort—lumbering and hungry. But the people were very odd, most anyways. It wasn’t uncommon for a giant to reach right into a house and pluck up one of them while he watched television. No one seemed to mind. Sometimes it was even an occasion for tears of joy. Still, a few people managed to keep clear of the giants, and one of those people was named Jack. About this fellow Jack; he loved a farmer’s daughter. One day, as he crossed the countryside on his way to her father’s farm, he daydreamed of the daughter and the house they would build together. While he did, he came upon a freshly-ruined house. Flames had consumed its members and all the signs pointed to a giant. When Jack saw that the trail of ruin ran straight away towards the farmer’s house, Jack ran after. But he came too late. The giant had come and with the farmer’s daughter it had gone. The farmer-father remained and he wore a big smile.

“Yep, she’s gone,” he said, “and she deserved it too. Her grades were good, she’s worked hard—we’re very proud.” “But she’s been eaten by a giant!” said Jack. “And a big one too! One of the biggest around, isn’t it wonderful?” But Jack did not hear the farmer’s words. He was already running after the giant. And the giant wasn’t hard to track. Wherever it had passed, things were uprooted or broken. He found it towering behind the crest of a hill. It really was a big one. And it was impeccably dressed. It was lowering the farmer’s daughter into its capacious mouth just as Jack ran up. There Jack found himself in a crowd of people, each person shouting up, “Eat me, eat me too!” “Giant, spit her out!” Jack said. But he wasn’t heard over the others. “Fee, fi, fo, fum!” the giant said, its mouth full of farmer’s daughter. “We have one more opening; who’d like the job?” “Me! Me!” all the people said. When the giant reached down Jack saw his chance. He shoved a middle-aged man aside and grabbed onto the giant’s hand. “Age discrimination!” the man cried. “Fo, fum!” the giant said. “This one is a real go-getter. I can use his kind in sales!” At this point Jack could see that the giant was made up of people. Each digit on its six-fingered hand consisted of human bodies hopelessly twisted together—legs, arms, torsos—all knotted—either heads buried, or eyes blank. Being part of the giant looked painful, and as Jack rose into the air he heard whimpers. Now that he was high up he could see for miles. Wherever he looked he saw more giants. Some of them fought, rumbling and tumbling, crushing small towns and smashing family farms. Some were so large their heads were in the clouds. Still others were like mountains, with mouths like open volcanoes, other giants tossing things into them. Yet others practiced cannibalism, hunting smaller giants and eating them. Before Jack could be afraid, he was in the giant’s mouth. He found himself in a waiting room lined with white chairs. The farmer’s daughter was there. “Jack, what are you doing here?” “I’ve come to take you away.” “We’ve already discussed it—I have student loans, I need a job.” “Not here, not with a giant. Everyone is miserable here; can’t you hear?” It was hard to miss—groans came from every direction, the floor, the walls, even the chairs. That’s when the Mouthpiece rose from the floor. She was dressed in a red suit. “Welcome to Giant Corporation. I’m here to help you find your place,” she said. “Thanks, I’m ready to get started,” said the farmer’s daughter. “Stop!” said Jack. “I thought we had a future together, we talked about building a house.” “Jack, be practical.” “You don’t have to choose between a house and Giant Corporation,” said the Mouthpiece. “If you want to buy a little home our credit union can give you a loan.” “You see, we don’t have to choose, we can have it all,” said the farmer’s daughter. “That’s not what I mean,” said Jack. “Let’s get out of here—this is no place to spend your life.” “But how can we live if I don’t work?” “That’s it—giants take your life, and when you are all used up they just throw you away.”

“But you’re forgetting advancement and recognition,” said the Mouthpiece. “There are many opportunities in Giant Corporation.” Until this moment Jack had ignored the Mouthpiece. But this made him angry. “Recognition? From whom? People she doesn’t even like? Advancement? What’s that supposed to mean when nothing you work on is your own? Besides, a wife’s place is with her husband.” “Jack, please—you’re embarrassing me; we aren’t even married yet.” A clicking came from the Mouthpiece. Her head was turning and another face appeared. This one had eyes of flame, her hair stood on end, and her voice sounded like a raven’s. A finger of accusation rose. “Patriarchy! Oppression! Rape! Shame! Shame!” Jack began to tremble, but not with fear. “Hell no!” he said with so much force the Mouthpiece stepped back. “You are the oppressor! And you are a thief! You steal people from their homes!” Then Jack took her finger and bent it back on itself. “Shame on you . . . ,” Jack said. There was no cry of pain from the Mouthpiece, just more clicking as the head turned again. A new face appeared. This one was made of metal and had holes where eyes should be. “Business is business,” it said. “Nothing personal, but we’re going to have to let you go. Please leave by the nearest exit.” “Glad to, but I’m not leaving without her.” “Jack, I don’t know. It’s so risky.” “Come,” the robot said to the farmer’s daughter, “you must be processed.” It began pushing her toward a back door.

The room began to move. The ceiling lowered and the floor rose and the chairs revealed themselves to be accountants all in a row. They were chanting, “Crunch the numbers; crunch the numbers.” Jack jumped after the farmer’s daughter to pull her away, but instead they were both swept through the door. Then they fell. Down, down, Jack and the farmer’s daughter fell until they landed with a little splash into fluid, ankle-deep. They found themselves at the end of a line. Someone came up carrying a clipboard. Its voice was high and it wore shapeless bag-like clothes. “Oh my—aren’t you a buff fellow?” it said to Jack. “And you, with that shape, no mistaking you for anything but a woman now, is there?” it said to the farmer’s daughter. “No, won’t do, no need for any of that here.” “What is this place?” Jack said. “Processing, of course,” it said with hands on hips. “Didn’t they tell you upstairs?” “What’s the wet-stuff on the floor? It burns my feet,” said the farmer’s daughter. “That’s what we use to burn away anything that isn’t useful to the giant.” Jack looked at people further up in line; they all seemed bleached and limp. “Will it make us like them?” “Of course! Oh, I know what you’re thinking; don’t you worry, you two can still have your fun—after hours, mind.” It nudged Jack and sidled up to him. “We don’t judge here, you know, how you get your fun is none of the giant’s business. Why, I imagine a fellow like you gets lots of attention.” The farmer’s daughter took Jack’s arm. “We’d like to have children some day.” “Children?” it said taking an officious tone. “That’s wonderful, I suppose. Let me make a note of that. I should think a liberated woman would not want to limit herself in that way. You are liberated, aren’t you?”

Just then some liquid fell from the ceiling as from a bucket. “Ow!” the farmer’s daughter said, “My whole front is burning!” Jack felt the burning too, just lower down. “Oh, everyone says that at first,” the thing with the clipboard said. “But soon the burning goes away. From the looks of you that may take a little longer than normal, but don’t worry, eventually you won’t even remember what those parts are for.” Another deluge fell and the farmer’s daughter cried out in pain. “Quick, hold on to me,” Jack said. “I’m getting us out of here!” The farmer’s daughter wrapped herself around him. “Oooo, you two are a problem. We can’t process you this way!” the clipboard thing said. It tried to pull them apart. Jack reached up and grabbed an appendage that protruded from the wall. Then he saw that it was someone’s arm. Again he saw that the giant was nothing but people—all knotted together. He pulled himself up, the farmer’s daughter still clinging to him. “Stop!” the clipboard thing said, feebly trying to hold onto Jack. Jack kicked it away and then began to climb. He saw the hole in the ceiling and he steered toward it. Once he passed through it he looked up and saw that he still had a long climb ahead of him. Fortunately he got some help along the way. People in the walls, those whose heads weren’t buried anyway, pushed them along. A few even wanted to come. “Please take me with you,” one face said pitifully. “I don’t like it here, I’d do anything to get out.” “If you don’t like it, why did you come here in the first place?” said the farmer’s daughter.

“When I was young,” the face said, “everyone wanted to be part of a giant—it just seemed the thing to do. And I believed what the Mouthpiece said. Now I know it’s all lies.” “I can’t carry you and her, “ Jack said. “Besides, you need to work yourself loose.” “Well, I don’t know about that,” said the face. “Won’t I fall?” “Maybe, but it’s a risk you’ll have to take if you ever want to get out.” When the face heard that, it was sorrowful. Then a rumble came from above. “Ahem! I seem to have something caught in my throat!” the giant said. Inside, great spasms welled up from below and Jack and the farmer’s daughter were thrown up and out into the light of day. Still clinging to each other, they fell onto a soft patch of ground. The giant looked down at what it had spat out. “An indigestible bean!” it said. With one of its massive feet it pressed Jack and the farmer’s daughter down deep. The indigestible bean was now hidden in the ground and the giant went on its way. But the bean put down roots and began to grow, and up sprang a leafy vine. In time it came to shelter Jack and his wife, and even feed them. It would be the joy of their life together and they tended it every day. Why, it even lived on after they died, and over the years it managed to shelter their children and their children’s children. And that’s about as happy an ending as can be hoped for in this world.

Wiley, C. R.. Man of the House: A Handbook for Building a Shelter That Will Last in a World That Is Falling Apart (Kindle Locations 1062-1072). Resource Publications, an Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers. Kindle Edition.

The Death of Western Christianity

The theme of this blog is “faith, family, survival” because man requires such things in that order to thrive rather than merely exist until untimely death.  I write about faith because the decline of the West has correlated almost perfectly with the decline of Christianity in the West.  Without faith, there can be no family.  We see this already: divorce rates are over 50% and half our children are bastards.  Without family, there can be no survival, even on a local level.  Family is the basic building block of society.

Culture therefore ultimately depends on the cult, which is why the word “culture” contains the word “cult”.  The struggle in our society today is over what will take the place of the cult of Christianity.  This is the reverse of the transition to Christianity from the first century onward.  When Christianity arrived on the scene in the West in the early first century, Greek philosophical traditions were in deep decline and urban Greco-Roman life was brutal.  Christianity eventually provided an attractive alternative for reasons to be explored later.   Now that Western Christianity is dying, no dominant philosophy is taking its place except for Frankfurt School cultural Marxism, which is really an ideology based on turning reality on its head. As the remaining Western Christians die of old age and our numbers drop precipitously, our post-Christian society will likely become a brutal cauldron of paganism, Hinduism, Islam, cultural Marxism and ultimately tyranny.

Patrick Sookdheo, who is not a Westerner except by training, has written an excellent book on Western Christianity’s death, the implications of this death, how Western Christians can start being Christian again, and what to do if there is no revival.  The book is available here.

Pray hard for a new Reformation.