The faction that used to be the Democratic party can be described with some precision these days as a three-headed monster driving the nation toward danger, darkness, and incoherence. Anyone interested in defending what remains of the sane center of American politics take heed:…
The third head of this monster is the one aflame with identity politics. It arises from a crypto-gnostic wish to change human nature to escape the woes and sorrows of the human condition — for example, the terrible tensions of sexuality. Hence, the multiplication of new sexual categories as a work-around for the fundamental terrors of human reproduction as represented by the differences between men and women. Those differences must be abolished, and replaced with chimeras that enable a childish game of pretend, men pretending to be women and vice-versa in one way or another: LBGTQetc. Anything BUT the dreaded “cis-hetero” purgatory of men and women acting like men and women. The horror….
Its companion is the race hustle and its multicultural operating system. The objective has become transparent over the past year, with rising calls to punish white people for the supposed “privilege” of being Caucasian and pay “reparations” in one way or another to underprivileged “people of color.” This comes partly from the infantile refusal to understand that life is difficult for everybody, and that the woes and sorrows of being in this world require fortitude and intelligence to get through — with the final reward being absolutely the same for everybody.
This frankly needs to be read in a lot of Sunday schools. These are ancient, ancient lessons. Sexuality is fraught and consequential. Life is hard, especially when you don’t have rich parents. And no, it’s not because God messed up and you’re really supposed to be a woman, or The Man has his foot on the neck of the Brutha. Resources are scarce, desire is unlimited, and bad things happen to good people. Our forebears derived spiritual truths from harsh reality and passed them down in the form of Tradition. All the world’s spiritual traditions deal with the cruel world, and they all generally say the same thing: love God and your neighbors, get married and stay married, be fruitful and bear children, venerate your ancestors. Failure to follow these laws for living puts you outside the Tribe on a very uncaring planet. But now that we generate sufficient wealth to indulge all manner and number of sins (forgive my brevity–the Internet only has so much bandwidth), the wages of sin are not death. They’re millions of public and private dollars willingly, enthusiastically! poured into anti-retroviral drugs so homosexuals can shamble along with a simulacrum of an immune system. If economist Donald McCloskey decides to turn his back on his family and adopt feminine dress and mannerisms at age 53, he doesn’t get shunned out of his job and social class. He gets to carry on as any well-dressed female circa 1982 would, while his peers frantically suppress their crimethink.
I can only imagine some people in this current Clown Age: “Doctor, I need help! I saw a biological man dressed up like my grandmother calling himself Dierdre and found myself thinking he was a mentally unbalanced freak!” “That’s awful, you sick pervert! Here’s three prescriptions and six months of therapy so you can deal with your pathological issues. Also, I’m obligated to call Homeland Security.”
Awkward misanthrope ready to explode from rejection and sexual frustration? Don’t bother lifting weights and developing character. We will scratch that itch as deeply in the cerebral cortex as you need with virtual reality and sexbots.
Kunstler is as right as any sage old monk. Reality is tough so we build fantastic, gnostic constructs and spend seemingly limitless money to cocoon ourselves from biology and the physical laws of the universe. We’re still not at Japanese-tier debt, measured in quadrillions of currency, so we can probably keep this up for quite some time.
Even longer, if we figure out nuclear fusion.
And when the AI-managed reactors come on line lads, this old world–the one red of tooth and claw–is over.