After Action Report from the "March to Save America" -UPDATED-

At around 4:15 AM on January 6th, I woke up and got prepared for the March. I'd coordinated with a buddy and we had decided to travel very light in the hope that small packs and no objectionable equipment would facilitate our entry into the Ellipse to listen up close to President Trump's speech. The forecast was for sunny mid-40s with mild winds, so I dressed lightly, figuring that we'd be doing a lot of walking from Union Station to the Ellipse, back to the Capital and then to Union Station. I left the gas mask, plates, and shin and elbow guards behind, along with my warm Korean surplus parka (I'd particularly miss the parka) but did wear my level 3 soft armor under fire retardant shirt and pants and a light wind breaker. I was avoiding fleece and the like as it burns well and Antifa is known to use Molotovs. Wool is very itchy.  If the authorities were particularly vindictive they might close down the commuter rail and Metro, forcing an evacuation on foot, as well, so minimal gear was the word of the day.

We caught a commuter rail connection to DC arriving in Union Station around 7 AM with no delays, and elected to walk to the Ellipse, which for those who are not familiar with Mordor-on-the-Potomac, faces the Washington Monument and the North side of the National Mall between 15^th and 17^th streets, about 1 ¾ miles from the train station. I was surprised to see a very large anti-Chinese Communist Party contingent made up primarily of Asians. There were dozens and dozens of vehicles with BIG anti- CCP signs on them, and a very large number of Asians working the crowds around the Capitol and later around the Washington Monument for signatures to petitions to outlaw the CCP. We saw a number of overt covered spotter locations, presumably backed by snipers, in the Union Station/Capitol hill area, along Constitution and around the Ellipse and White House, manned by people with what looked like stabilized binoculars and video cameras. We had learned on the way in that the DC mayor had closed all convenience stores by executive fiat, all gas stations, and attempted to close all the hotels Tuesday night.

It was colder than forecast, with solid overcast and a wicked wind blowing hard from the SSW, and despite my effort to keep up with my longer legged buddy, I was not warm. We arrived at the Ellipse around 820 to find that the line to get into the Ellipse area was well over a mile long ( some said 2 miles) and moving at a glacial pace as the White House security team screened everyone attempting to enter. (Later that morning we heard an announcement that despite what was published in the event announcement, that NO packs at all would be allowed, among other changes.) There were a very large number of porta-johns….. inside the Ellipse. ALL of the other public buildings were closed, so females had issues finding facilities, and those few outside the Ellipse were filthy, with very long lines to get to them. Males with long coats and women with dresses could use a pee bottle but I saw no woman wearing a dress.

After a brief conversation my buddy and I agreed that there was no way we'd get in before things kicked off at 9 and we elected to secure a vantage point near the crest of the hill with the Washington Monument on top. (As an aside, it is clear that the National Park Service has learned nothing about barricades since Barry Soetero was living in the Spite House, as the patriots simply unbolted, lifted, or otherwise moved the US Park Service barriers out of the way. They had barricaded all sorts of monuments and the Capitol, and folks simply moved the unguarded ones out of the way. The Park Service wisely turned a blind eye, and in some cases so did the DC and Capitol Police.)

As time went on, the crowd grew steadily.  We estimated the attendees based on how full the space between 15^th and 17^th street and Constitution and the Monument was (around 1.3 million square feet.) We estimated about 20,000 to maybe 30,000 attendees at around 8:20 and this number continued to grow to something close to 200,000 until I left around 11:00. This does not include all the people on the way in, on Constitution and elsewhere on the Mall; my guess (and that is all that is, a guess) is that the total by 1 PM was somewhere around 300,000, possibly as many as 400,000 people there. These folks came from all over the country; we met people from close in states but also Colorado, Montana, Ohio,  and saw flags representing a number of other states. Being in the early stages of hypothermia I knew I needed to warm up, and I headed back to Union Station to thaw out a bit and eat some lunch. We had connected with some other friends who came in via Metro at around 10 o'clock and found us using some Baofeng radios, so my buddy, who wanted to hear the President speak, was not by himself.

The President was scheduled to speak at around 11, but had not started when I left; I spent the next hour and a half getting to Union Station, eating a hot lunch, and thawing out in the train station. Once I had finished my lunch and gotten feeling back into my feet, per my arrangements, I texted my buddy and made arrangements to meet up. Just before 1 PM, I headed out to meet my friends, who were with a large body of Patriots who had moved up the Mall from the Ellipse area and were surrounding the Capitol on three sides. As I walked toward the Capitol building along Delaware from Union Station, I heard all sorts of radio chatter and saw people swarming the West side of the Capitol. There were all sorts of police, Capitol and DC, going everywhere. It looked as if an anthill had been kicked. Apparently things had changed while I was thawing out.

As I continued to walk closer to the Capitol along Delaware street, calling my friends on my radio and listening for their response, I noticed that some of the chatter was related to entering the Capitol building, and I heard one voice say that they had opened multiple doors to the outside and “There are thousands on the inside.” I was stunned at that news but was primarily focused on connecting with the rest of my group while avoiding Antifa/BLM, who were present both overtly and somewhat covertly. On the West side of the Capitol there were a large number of officers defending the barrier on the East side of Constitution, perpendicular to Delaware. They were not allowing the public to cross towards the Capitol, despite thousands of demonstrators streaming North between Constitution and the West side of the Capitol. There was a clear gap in command and control of these officers, male and female, who were nervous, not in riot gear and ignoring all the Patriots behind them. I had no idea what was going to happen next.  My focus shifted from meeting my friends to leaving and I bent all my efforts toward meeting my friends and getting us out.

We rendezvoused at 3^rd and Madison. My friends did not know that the Capitol had been entered, with large numbers of demonstrators inside the capitol; smart phones, as I had expected, had trouble getting connectivity. I learned later that tear gas had been employed, but had blown back on those using it, and that the march on the Capitol had apparently been sparked by the lack of clear direction from Trump's speech, combined with the rapidly disseminated knowledge of Pence's non-action on throwing out the electors from the states in which fraud was most egregious. It was clear that the situation had devolved considerably and that there were a very large number of irate Americans who had breached some of the various barriers surrounding and inside the capitol.

The anti-Communists were not swayed; their vehicles were still parked along Constitution and 3^rd and nearby streets, and they had organized a huge line of people holding a long banner stretched along 3^rd Street between Madison and Jefferson streets, with somebody with a heavy accent on a PA system shouting various slogans, like “Stop the Steal!” “Stop the Communists!” and “USA!” accompanied by heavy drums, which I did not see (electronic?) Something to keep in mind; the Asian community clearly knows what life under a totalitarian regime is like.

We learned later that the Congresscritters were told to shelter in place, and the Capitol was locked down as they cleared it of protesters. As we made our way to the train station, police, ambulances and fire trucks screamed toward the Capitol. I left my radio on and among other interesting things heard one of the earlier voices say “we made it to the Balcony!” Shortly afterwards, I heard a new voice say “ get out of there! Get to the rally point!” The familiar voice argued for staying, and the new voice said “They've authorized lethal force- Get out NOW and get to the rally point!” I heard no further debate, nor did I hear more from those voices. That afternoon we heard that lethal force had not only been authorized but had been used, with at least two unarmed Patriots being shot.

As we walked, we saw continued chaos around the Capitol and heard more screaming sirens and an ongoing roar from the crowd. As we walked we got an emergency notice that DC had been placed on a 6 PM curfew. Later, as we waited for our return train, which left on time, we heard that two unarmed people had been shot inside the Capitol, that Pence had been escorted out of the Capitol by secret tunnel by the Secret Service and that many demonstrators had been escorted out of the Capitol and a number arrested.

We arrived at Union Station safe and sound and eventually made our way home quietly, not needing to use any of the alternate or contingency planning for evacuation from Mordor-on-the-Potomac we had put together. I was glad I had spent time looking at the issue, however; that was time well spent.

A few take-aways:

• Equipment, etc:

  • Proper clothing- Traveling light is one thing, but being under-dressed in the winter is potentially life-threatening. I thought I knew that, but apparently I needed a reminder, and boy howdy did I get one. Going in I had thought we'd be moving around more, but in the event we spent a long time standing still on the Mall, exposed to a constant wind. I got to the point that I was shivering all over in less than 3 hours. Walking warmed me up somewhat, but it was not until I was out of the wind in a heated environment for an extended period that I warmed up to the point of being able to feel my feet. A younger Historian would have shrugged this off, but at my age and condition it was an issue. Having a parka or a poncho liner would have made the difference. Hypothermia is a weapon, and Patriots need to keep this in mind.

  • What I did not bring- I had packed a larger backpack with a gas mask, knee and elbow pads, armored helmet, and had available a parka, a plate carrier and other gear (poncho, liner, rope etc.) but decided that since we wanted to enter the controlled area that I'd keep to a small butt pack and leave the other gear at home. In hindsight, not only were we unable to get to the access point early enough to get in, but the crowd was huge and the access control screening completely inadequate for the numbers of folks trying to enter. We probably should have packed proper protective equipment, especially in light of the use of tear gas on the protesters.  The wind that had chilled me was our ally at that moment, but it would be folly to count on the wind in future. I do not know what all of the weapons used to shoot the unarmed Patriots, but at least one woman was shot with a 5.56 suppressed carbine, which argues in favor of plates in lieu of soft armor
    

  • What I brought- first aid items, including a GSW kit and multiple CATs, 2 liters of water, purification tablets, maps of the area, 2 compasses and a GPS, a copy of the mission plan, spare radios preprogrammed for the frequencies selected, emergency food as well as lunch and snacks, spare socks, and emergency candles, 2 pr gloves, alcohol & wipes, and all my other EDC stuff. I did not need any first aid supplies, or any of the E&E material, but I was glad to have it nonetheless.

  • Casualty care- I had decent first aid, but no way to transport a casualty without my poncho, and that gap bothers me. In the context of a peaceful rally, probably not something to be overly concerned about, but it was several hundred yards from the center of the Mall to the nearest roadway, the shortest possible distance for pickup. Had things gone kenetic given the crowds and the chaos, we may well have had to transport a severely injured person to Georgetown, and without help that was not happening.More thought needed on this.

     

  •  UPDATE- Matt Bracken mentioned optics;  I had a compact set of binoculars that I did not use, and in hindsight I wish I had brought my Nikon 7x50 binoculars and a optics cloth to keep them defogged.  He also pointed out that an AM/FM radio helped keep him updated on events, another item I elected not to bring, and in hindsight should have.
    

    
    

• Personal fitness- I need more time on the treadmill and more rucking. I'm older than I thought I'd get to be and pretty beat up, but things that ought not to have hurt after only 4+ miles of walking were damned sore. Packs are heavier than they used to be, too, so getting back into weight lifting is in order.

• Sanitation-

  • Finding a place to 'take care of business' in the country is a non-issue, either urination or defecation. In a highly monitored hostile urban environment, it becomes a big issue, especially for women.

  • Public urination may be ignored by the police when a bum is urinating in the corner of an alley, but Patriots can expect immediate arrest for this sort of minor infraction,especially now that we are second class citizens.

  • I heard this issue brought up and discussed by the attendees during the event, especially those in line for one of the few public portajohns; defecation can be delayed, but for older folks, especially old men like me, when you have to urinate, you have to go! As noted, guys with long coats can use a pee bottle, but females need to plan ahead.

  • There are any number of 'stand to pee' devices women can use in conjunction with a pee bottle, among them “pStyle” and “SheWee” and if people, women especially, are going to operate in hostile urban areas, this issue needs to be considered and addressed. 

     
  • UPDATE- In comments, Matt Bracken suggested using a piss tube, another good option for dealing with male urination issues, and Linda Fox suggested using adult diapers, another good option.  I appreciate the suggestions. 

  • Hand washing is likewise something to consider ahead of time; we had alcohol gel and hand wipes to keep our hands clean, and wore gloves, as well.

• Communications-

  • Good communications make a big difference especially if your group has split or detached elements; having backups for when cell and texts aren't working is a plus. If your circle of acquaintance does not have a plan for that, you need to correct that gap ASAP.

  • I have been thinking about this and I would expect that in any future protests that the authorities, as the Communists and other authoritarian regimes have done, will shut down cell and wifi services in the active area. Best to plan ahead, PACE yourself and remember that 2 is 1 and 1 is none.

• Coordination or lack thereof, especially in large group actions-

  • My goal was to support the call by the President to come and demonstrate to the Congress that fraudulent elections are a bad idea. My comrades and I did that, as did thousands of other small groups of Americans, without any coordination with anybody.

  • Obviously, other folks had other goals, and even more obviously, somebody had a plan to get Patriots into the Capitol. That may or may not have been a good thing. The Left and the 4^th Branch used this to their benefit to short-cut their stampede to stifle dissent, white-wash this coup and confer legitimacy upon it, but in the end the result would have been the same.
    

  • Most folks attending this rally had no idea that other people had a more evolved agenda in play, and even while the Capitol was being penetrated had no idea this was going on. This point is worth considering for the future; whatever your intentions or plans, you must prepare for other people having divergent ideas, and as noted above, having good situational awareness and communication is essential.  It is likely that future actions of this kind will be met with more force, so knowing what is going on outside your immediate area will become even more important.

  • Be prepared to coordinate with other like-minded groups on the fly, should your activities and theirs intersect. As the Resistance evolves and grows in activity, this is likely to become both more common and more important. Having your comm group investing in a PA for the majority of folks who have nothing besides a smart phone might be a worthwhile idea.
    

End result- 

As expected, Pence rolled over.  Trump was apparently either unwilling or unable to employ EO 13848 or the Insurrection Act, and at this point there seems to be no "1 minute to midnight" miracle to save the Republic.  The Swamp and the Left have ignored our warning of January 6th in their stampede to consolidate their coup. That is a great pity for all those living here, both those who love this country and those who do not.  As one of the many un-named veterans we talked to on the 6th told me: “ The US has been at war for 20 years, and there are tens of thousands of combat veterans who've learned how to do guerrilla war in Iraq and Afghanistan. If these stupid f#@%s (referring to the Democratic Congress) don't wake up, we will show them just how well we learned, from IEDs to snipers to targeted assassinations. We know how to make a country ungovernable, and they are two weeks away from getting exactly that. This election was completely illegitimate; they have declared war on us.”

Or as another person put it yesterday (not sure whether he was a vet or not)- “this is the people of the US being NICE. Today, we didn't kill anybody, we didn't burn anything, we didn't break any windows. We came unarmed to demonstrate our resolve, not to hurt anybody. We were politely but firmly telling the Swamp that this BS is going to stop. But if we come back again, we will NOT be nice.”

I've just read that Trump has abandoned his attempt to defeat the coup, and agreed that Biden will be inaugurated on the 20^th. The coup is now accomplished and the Left and the Swamp at that time will be in control of the Federal Government of these presently united States. Patriot blood was shed, and a Patriot died yesterday at the hands of the Left and their thugs; reports are that 3 people died from "medical issues. Joe Biden was quoted today as saying “ this was not protest; it’s insurrection!”

Take note of how your would-be rulers classified our peaceful protest to their election theft and coup. Their fraud and theft is perfectly acceptable, but our objections are insurrection, according to them, and those engaged in insurrection deserve to be shot. They evidently believe that, since they've already done it.

Here we are. We shall see what happens next.

 

With regard to all who seek and defend the Light,

Historian.

 

Nice People (UPDATED)

Two all-important checklists:

1. Nice People Dos:

• Nice people do as the police tell them.
• Nice people are always polite and orderly.
• Nice people conform to the dictates of the law.
• Nice people accept the authority of elected officials.
• Nice people petition peaceably for a redress of grievances – and if denied, they go home quietly.

2. Nice People Don’ts:

• Nice people don’t accuse others of lying or cheating.
• Nice people don’t defy properly constituted authority.
• Nice people don’t condemn those who have wronged them.
• Nice people don’t form mobs and go about demanding justice.
• Nice people don’t tar and feather their oppressors and run them out of town on a rail.

     Remember these lists. There’ll be a test on them later.

---

     A little C. S. Lewis always goes down well at times like this:

     “Come in,” said Dimble in his rooms at Northumberland. “Oh, it’s you, Studdock,” he added as the door opened. “Come in.”
     “I’ve come to ask about Jane,” said Mark. “Do you know where she is ?”
     “I can’t give you her address, I’m afraid,” said Dimble.
     “Do you mean you don’t know it? “
     “I can’t give it,” said Dimble….
     “What do you mean?” he asked. “I don't understand.”
     “If you have any regard for your wife's safety you will not ask me to tell you where she has gone,” said Dimble.
     “Safety from what?”
     “Don't you know what has happened?”
     "What's happened?"
     “On the night of the riot the Institutional Police attempted to arrest her. She escaped, but not before they had tortured her.”
     “Tortured her? What do you mean? “
     “Burned her with cigars.”
     “That's what I've come about,” said Mark. “Jane–I'm afraid she is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. That didn't really happen, you know.”
     “The doctor who dressed the burns thinks otherwise.”
     “Great Scott!” said Mark. “So they really did? But, look here...”
     Under the quiet stare of Dimble he found it difficult to speak.
     “Why have I not been told about this outrage?” he shouted.
     “By your colleagues?” asked Dimble dryly. “It is an odd question to ask me. You ought to understand the workings of the N.I.C.E. better than I do.”
     “Why didn't you tell me? Why has nothing been done about it? Have you been to the police?”
     “The Institutional Police?”
     “No, the ordinary police.”
     “Do you really not know that there are no ordinary police left in Edgestow?”
     “I suppose there are some magistrates.”
     “There is the Emergency Commissioner, Lord Feverstone. You seem to misunderstand. This is a conquered and occupied city.”

     [From That Hideous Strength]

     If Dimble were an American citizen alive today, he would be speaking of Washington D.C., our nation’s soi disant capital city. That story ended with a Divine intervention. We might not be so lucky.

     God does help those who help themselves, don’t y’know.

---

     Yes, I’m in a bad mood, if so mild a phrase applies to a state of mind that contemplates mass assaults and bombings of government facilities nationwide. The presidential election was stolen. Two elections for United States Senate have been stolen. Other elections, for other offices, were probably stolen, though the ones I’ve just mentioned have received all the coverage.

     The last vestige of legitimacy provided by electoral mechanisms has been ripped away from government in these United States. And our would-be conquerors demand that we sit quietly and accept it.

     Many will do exactly that, especially as the police have shown a demonstrable partiality toward the conquerors. The events of yesterday make that perfectly clear. And nice people always do as the police tell them.

---

     Political authority in these United States has dismissed the constraints of the Constitution for many decades. Nice people, unwilling to make a fuss, have gone along with it. Some have adjusted their behavior. Others have found ways to “play the angles.” Still others have “gotten into the game,” maneuvered for control of the levers of power, and have used them for their own purposes. After all, in America the political game is “open;” anyone can play.

     The dynamic of politics and the nature of power have caused political authority to move into ever more concentrated, ever more ruthless circles: circles utterly devoid of nice people, though some of their denizens are adept at faking it.

     Those non-nice people have a terrible weapon to use in our subjugation. It’s a weapon we have put into their hands: our niceness. They’re banking on Americans’ love of peace and order. They hope and expect that our niceness, and what it demands of us, will keep us from mounting any but a shallow resistance to their usurpations.

     Given the events of November 3 and January 5, it’s time to invert the checklists in the opening segment: i.e., to stop being nice people.

     God forbid we should be twenty years without a rebellion. What country can preserve its liberties if the rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance? – Thomas Jefferson

     It’s been a lot longer than twenty years.

     Whenever the legislators endeavor to take away and destroy the property of the people, or to reduce them to slavery under arbitrary power, they put themselves into a state of war with the people, who are thereupon absolved of any further obedience, and are left to the common refuge which God hath provided for all men against force and violence. – John Locke

     Verbum sat sapienti. Oh, and do have a nice day.

     UPDATE: Have a few words from Ragin' Dave:

     You shut down people's speech. You commit blatant fraud during the election, and when people try to deal with that the right way (i.e. through the courts) the courts dismiss the lawsuits either because of "standing" or by saying "Well, too late for you to file this now!" You've taken away the soap box, the ballot box and the jury box.

     In the meantime, the Left gets to run rampant, burn down cities, attack people on the right, literally attack them in public, violate the law multiple times over, riot at the drop of a hat, and what happens to them? Nothing. Not a damn thing....

     Did the powers that be think that we the people weren't watching?

     Possibly. More likely they're counting on our remaining passive and accepting subjugation. Either way, all the chips are in the middle of the table now.

Law And Its “Enforcers”

     Over at Ace’s place, Oregon Muse reminds us of this incisive article about police and policing from Angelo Codevilla. The entire article is worth reading, as is always the case with Codevilla, but here’s the Sunday punch:

     What then shall we do with and about the police? Reality imposes certain principles.

     First, trust them only insofar as you pay them, can hire and fire, or frighten them. Otherwise, realize that they will serve whomever pays them....

     Second, take a lesson from those videos of the police standing aside. They didn’t protect the mobs simply because they were so ordered. They did it also because they were physically frightened by the mob’s use of a variety of weapons against them, as well as by the prospect of lawsuits and attacks on them and their families....

     Third, police yourselves. Call it self-defense groups, neighborhood protection, vigilantes, friends, anything but “militias.” But the essence is the same: rely on yourself and on people who have known each other for a long time—no infiltrators, please—united and armed to take care of themselves as they think best.

     We might call the first of the above prescriptions “Littlefinger’s Law:”

     The overriding importance of that effect is well established. In combination with the second prescription, it constitutes the heart of Public Choice theory: the supremacy of personal and familial interests over notions of public duty.

     The third prescription merely follows from the previous two...if, that is, communities want policing of any sort, given the complexities and consequences that attend it.

     Oregon Muse adds this:

     [W]hat this means is that, ultimately, the police are not your friend. When you most need them, odds are they won't be there. Also, you'd better be real careful how you talk to them. And I'm talking about just the local constabulary, don't get me started on the FBI....

     I'll go back to the point I keep hammering on, and it is this: the reason we are in this situation is that for the most part, we have lost the most important government there is: self-government. If each on of us can't govern ourselves, can't control ourselves, no amount of external government is going to work.

     True – as far as it goes. But it omits the recognition that even in the most virtuous societies there will be lawbreakers, predators, and the shiftless. Someone must deal with such miscreants. In today’s America, they tend to be sheltered – protected from the appropriate penalties for their actions – by their families and identity-group fellows. If there is no public nor quasi-public institution to take them in hand, what then?

     Some people call this a refutation of the libertarian ideal. I don’t see it that way. Even the freest possible society must have a way to deal with predators. Even if there’s a “best method,” and if we can work out what it is, no social arrangement is indefinitely stable – and that includes arrangements for law enforcement.

     The problem is stiff, and it won’t go away.

A Teaser

     [I’ve had enough of politics to last me a lifetime. I simply can’t write about it this morning, so have a teaser from my novel-under-construction instead.

     The book, which at this point is untitled, further extends the series that currently concludes with The Wise and the Mad. It picks up where that book left off, so if you haven’t read that volume – and the stories to which it is itself a sequel – what follows will be incomprehensible to you. Also, I intend it to be an explicitly Catholic novel. I make no apologies. – FWP]

---

Sunday, June 23, 2030

     “Gerry, my lord, Miss Trish, Father Monti, Father Ray,” Fountain said, “dinner is ready.”
     Five persons, all of them dazed by the extraordinary aromas that had permeated the pope’s study for the preceding hour, turned immediately toward the young futa. She set a large platter on the pope’s conference table. It was filled to the brim with orzo, shrimp and bite-sized chunks of chicken, tomatoes, diced peppers, onions, and celery, bathed in a pale, delicate sauce. She essayed a half-bow and took the seat between Larry and Trish Sokoloff.
     Gerard Seamus Patrick O’Rourke, better known to the world as His Holiness Pope Clement XV, spoke in a voice that trembled with longing.
     “Domenico, would you please say grace for us? But in English, please.”
     Father Domenico Monti, Clement’s personal secretary, nodded once. He steepled his hands and bowed his head. The others did the same.
     “God our Father,” Monti said hoarsely, “we thank thee for this gift from thy bounty, and pray that we will ever be grateful for your generosity, mercy, and love. In Christ our Lord, Amen.”
     “Amen,” the others chorused.
     Clement rose as four sets of hands darted toward the serving implements. Trish Sokoloff won the race. As she shoveled a mound of Fountain’s creation onto her plate, Clement took up the decanter of red wine and circled the table filling glasses. He started with his own.
     Being Supreme Pontiff has to come with some privileges.
     When he reached Fountain’s place, he found the futa sitting back with her hands in her lap, waiting patiently for her turn to serve herself. She smiled at him as he stopped beside her.
     “Do you drink wine, Fountain?” he said.
     “I have not yet had wine, Gerry,” she said.
     “Ah. I noticed that you didn’t have any earlier,” he said. “Is it permitted, Larry, Trish?”
     “I can’t see why not,” Larry said. “She just hasn’t encountered it yet. We’re not wine drinkers at home.”
     “Fountain hasn’t had anything alcoholic yet,” Trish said. “We figured she’s still a bit young for it.”
     “What’s your domestic tipple?” Clement said.
     “I don’t drink anymore,” Trish said.
     “I don’t drink much,” Sokoloff said. “When I do, it’s usually just a little bourbon.”
     “And a shot of Bailey’s in your coffee on Sunday,” Trish said.
     Her husband smirked. “Well, yeah, but it’s in place of cream and sugar.”
     Clement chuckled. “An excellent substitute. The alcohol cuts through the fat. It’s the body’s version of a plumber’s auger. Fountain, would you like a glass of wine? I’m sure it won’t harm you in any way.”
     “I would like to try it, Gerry,” Fountain said. “I am always interested in exploring new foods and flavors.”
     “Very well.” He poured a small amount of Chianti into her glass, set down the decanter, and returned to his seat. As the others were plainly waiting for him to be first to try the dish, he served himself a modest portion and spooned up a bite.
     Fountain’s creation hit him like a speeding truck. The cavalcade of flavors and textures was both overwhelming and exquisite, a gustatory delight of unprecedented magnitude and variety. It seized him immediately and irresistibly. He had to thrust his chair back from the table to avert a most un-Pontiff-like action.
     “Is something wrong, Holiness?” Father Monti said.
     “Uh, nothing...nothing, Domenico.” Clement’s heart had gone into overdrive. His whole body quivered with pleasure. None of his non-mystical experiences could compare with the rush from that single mouthful of Fountain’s concoction. He closed his eyes, tipped back his head, breathed deeply through his nose, and emitted a long sigh. When he’d steadied, he panned a huge smile around the table.
     “Glory be to God!”
     Larry was grinning like a fool. His wife Trish giggled, one hand pressed to her lips. Ray Altomare and Domenico Monti were staring at their plates looking thunderstruck. It seemed their encounter with Fountain’s cuisine had paralleled Clement’s.
     Fountain was staring fixedly into her wine glass.
     “What’s the matter, dear?” Clement said. “Don’t you like it?”
     Fountain didn’t reply at once. Clement became alarmed.
     “It speaks,” she whispered. “It speaks so much.”
     She slowly drained the glass and turned a face that glowed with the unique joy of discovery toward Clement.
     “Thank you, Gerry,” she whispered. “This is special.”
     “A new thing, Fountain?” he said.
     “Something you’d like to experiment with?” Larry said.
     She nodded, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement.
     Clement reached for the decanter and refilled her glass.

#

     It was not long afterward that the members of the little dinner party, having scraped the serving platter completely food-free, sat back from the table to digest. There were many groans. Some were of pleasure, some were of rue, and some compounded the two.
     Fountain alone was silent. She appeared to Clement to be deep in thought.
     “Holiness,” Monti croaked.
     “Really, Domenico,” Clement murmured, “can’t you bring yourself to call me Gerry for the span of a dinner party?”
     “Apologies, Holiness,” the Piedmontese priest said, “but I fear not. The capacity for such informality was beaten out of me long, long ago.”
     Clement shook his head. “A pity, though I suppose I’ll manage to cope. What was it you were about to say?”
     “I think...” Monti faltered. “I think it was wise that you should dine thus, with your present company and without the members of the Curia.” He brightened. “And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for including me.”
     Clement smiled. “Thanks are not necessary, Domenico. You serve the papacy with such devotion that I felt it would be unjust to exclude you.” He chuckled. “Also, I’d been told that I was about to experience an extraordinary event, and I wanted to have at least as many clergy present as laymen. To act as witnesses, you understand.” He turned to Fountain. “Does that dish have a name, Fountain?”
     “It does not, Gerry,” she said. “I composed it only today, from what I found in your pantry. Would you like to name it?”
     “I’m not sure that I’m up to the task, Fountain,” Clement said. “It was something like a jambalaya without sausage, but subtler. Considerably subtler. It did not overwhelm with pepper as jambalaya often does. May I have a few days to think about a name, dear?”
     “Of course, Gerry.”
     “Fountain does this sort of thing all the time,” Larry Sokoloff said. “Dishes we’ve never seen before, recipes concocted on the spot, sometimes with ingredients she’s never used before.”
     “But this good?” Clement said.
     “Always this good, Gerry,” Trish said. “No matter what she makes, Fountain’s cooking is guaranteed to ring all your bells.”
     “It is in the food,” Fountain said.
     Clement peered at her curiously. “What do you mean, dear?”
     She met his gaze with eyes of the purest innocence.
     “Food speaks, Gerry,” she said. “It is powerful, and it knows its power. It wants not merely to nourish, but to please, to be cherished–to be loved. Upon the instant my lord and Miss Trish introduced me to food, I knew it could do wonders.”
     “You hadn’t had...food before that?”
     Her eyes darkened. She shook her head. “No, Gerry. A—a sludge to keep us alive. It had a foul odor. It was bitter, slimy, hard to swallow...vile. Except for an occasional glass of milk, it was all we were given. Until my lord made me his, I was unaware that there was anything else.”
     The study filled with a silence of expectant yet reverent quality. It brought a sense of immanence, the special tension that speaks of an event—or a Person—that has breached the wall of Time and is waiting to be recognized. Clement had experienced such a state before, but always at prayer or during meditation.
     This is something the world needs to know.
     This young woman was created from stolen tissue by an evil method and trained for the basest sort of slavery. A will-less, rightless existence her owner could terminate whenever he pleased. An absolute dependence that could never be broken.
     She could be the most important mortal to come into the world of men since the Blessed Virgin.
     “Did the wine speak to you that way, Fountain?”
     “Oh yes!” The futa’s face filled with excitement and possibility. “I must learn all there is to know about wine. It has great power. It could protect the health. It could relieve many sorrows. It could...could...” Her eyes lost focus and her gaze drifted into the infinite.
     A new prospect formed in his mind’s eye.
     Could the old saw be true after all?
     “Fountain,” Clement murmured, “could wine be used to elicit...truth? To encourage someone to speak his mind plainly and without any pretense?”
     Her focus returned, and she smiled.
     “I do not yet know, Gerry. It is possible. Its powers seem unbounded. I must study it thoroughly.”
     Trish sucked in a noisy breath. Larry took her hand and squeezed it. Ray Altomare and Domenico Monti stared at the futa as if mesmerized.
     “Possible,” Clement said. “Not certain.”
     Fountain canted her head and looked away. Her smile spoke of an adventure eagerly anticipated.
     “I will know soon enough.”

#

     The evening wore on. Dessert was gelato and cannoli, hand-made by the Vatican’s own kitchen staff. Servants brought coffee for the Sokoloffs, brandy for Ray and Monti, and wine for Clement and Fountain. There were stories, and japes, and copious merriment. It was an interval of a sort few popes have enjoyed and fewer still have allowed to become public knowledge.
     Clement encouraged Fountain to try sips of several kinds of wine. He asked her opinion of each and how they differed.
     “The red wines speak more sternly,” she said. “The white wines beckon more subtly.”
     “I’m not sure what you mean, dear,” Clement said.
     She frowned delicately. “As with all voices, the voices of food have both volume and tone. The red wine is brusque and assertive. It demands my attention. It would not accept going unheard. I must listen. Yet it says nothing the white wine does not. The white wine demands nothing. It invites, beckons...”
     “Tempts?”
     “Yes, or seduces.” Her forehead wrinkled. “I failed at first to hear it, and it did not raise but lowered its voice. Whether or not to listen is at my option.” Her eyes twinkled. “Miss Holly might say that the red wine is ‘full of itself.’”
     “Who is Miss Holly?” Clement said.
     “Holly Martinowski. One of my other parishioners,” Ray supplied. “A very nice young, ah, woman who writes romance novels.”
     “Excellent romance novels,” Trish added.
     “My, my. Onteora is home to all sorts of Catholics.” Clement drained his brandy and sat back. “The variety must be refreshing.” He snorted. “All I get to deal with are sour-faced cardinals with pretensions to importance.”
     “Holiness!” Monti looked mournful.
     Clement chuckled. “All right, Domenico, I’ll admit there are a few pleasant exceptions. Larry, Trish? I assume you’ve booked accommodations for tonight and a flight back to New York tomorrow?”
     “Yes to both,” Larry said.
     “Remember to send a copy of the hotel bill to Domenico. He’ll see to it that you’re reimbursed.” Clement rose, marveling afresh at his painlessness and ease of motion. “This has been one of the very best days I’ve had since I was first ordained a priest of Christ.” He spread his arms in unabashed invitation, and each of the Sokoloffs hugged him in turn. “Thank you, most sincerely, for indulging my curiosity about you and Fountain.” He turned to Fountain, took her hands, bowed over them and kissed them. “And thank you, dear girl, for the greatest experience I’ve ever had at the dinner table.”
     The futa smiled. “You’re quite welcome, Gerry.”
     “Ray?” Clement said. “Unless you absolutely must be off, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay in a Vatican guest suite tonight. I’d like for us to celebrate Mass together tomorrow morning.”
     Ray Altomare’s visage lit from within.
     “Gerry,” he said, “I can imagine no greater honor.”
     “Excellent. Let’s bid our other guests a good night.”

#

     When Father Monti had closed the study door behind him, Clement turned to Ray and waved him back to his seat. “More brandy, Ray?”
     “No thank you, Gerry,” he said. “I have a feeling I should keep what remains of my wits for what you’re about to tell me.”
     Clement chuckled. “You’ve got the right idea. I realized when Fountain and I were chatting that even though her, ah, parents are devout, she’s got no idea about the Faith.”
     Ray nodded. “Larry didn’t want to be the one to educate her. She thinks too much of him to doubt anything he says. Trish just feels unequipped.”
     “Hm. Well, that might be for the best,” Clement said. “You, on the other hand...?”
     He fought back an urge to cringe.
     Oh boy. I should have known that was coming.
     “I suppose it is my job, isn’t it?” he muttered.
     “Well,” Clement drawled, “you are the pastor of Onteora parish, aren’t you, Father?”
     “Yeah.” Ray shook himself and straightened up. “I know it’s my job. But it’s going to be a tough one.”
     “All the more reason I’m glad it will be you who takes it on,” Clement said. “Fountain is special. May God be forever praised, she gives new meaning to the word ‘special.’ And I can trust you to know how to introduce her to the Testaments, and our theology, and the Church’s doctrines about a life well lived without oppressing her, bruising her innocence, or damaging what makes her unique.”
     He trusts me more than I trust myself. God, be with me. I’m going to need You.
     “I hope you’re right about that.” Ray sighed. “She won’t be my first special catechumen, but she’s likely to be the most difficult. You’ve noticed how literal she is?”
     “I most certainly have.”
     “And that she takes nothing for granted?”
     “Yes again,” Clement said. “And neither should you. I think...” He paused and looked away briefly. “I think she has a significant part to play in the dramas of our time. If she accepts and embraces the Faith—and there are no guarantees about that, despite my most fervent hopes—she could serve the Christian world as no one has done since Aquinas.”
     Ray’s awareness surged to a painful acuity.
     What kind of service is he thinking of? The Christian world is in desperate need of several different kinds.
     “Gerry, I sense that there’s meaning in that statement that I’m unable to thresh out.”
     “For the moment,” Clement said, “that is as it must be. But I don’t think it will be much longer before my meaning is as clear to you as it is to me, so be careful with her. Supremely careful.”
     Ray bowed his head. “I will, Gerry.”
     “I’m sure.” Clement rose. “Now let’s get some shut-eye. I’d say we’ve earned it.”

#

     “He is impossible.”
     “He demeans us. To exclude us yet dine with his secretary, a parish priest, a lay couple, and that creature...”
     “You did not vote for him.”
     “Nor did you. But nearly three fourths of the Conclave did. And I will never understand it. I’d have thought it was understood that an American would be unacceptable.”
     “I certainly understood it. Even so, he was chosen. He has been elevated. What now?”
     “It is clear that he must be removed.”
     “By what means? I have studied his record. It is without blemish.”
     “If so, that was yet another reason not to choose him!”
     “What can we do?”
     “I must think on it, as should you.”
     “I shall. But we must not take too long. The damage is already mounting to a catastrophic level.”
     “I know.”

==<O>==

Copyright © 2021 Francis W. Porretto. All Rights Reserved Worldwide.

After The Fall

     "For centuries Galactic civilization has stagnated and declined, though only a few ever realized that. But now, at last, the Periphery is breaking away and the political unity of the Empire is shattered. Somewhere in the fifty years just past is where the historians of the future will place an arbitrary line and say: 'This marks the Fall of the Galactic Empire.'
     "And they will be right, though scarcely any will recognize that Fall for additional centuries."

     [Isaac Asimov, Foundation]

     The destruction of a political entity as large as a contemporary nation-state is not a discrete or “digital” event. It’s a process that stretches over years, sometimes decades. During that process, great forces contrive to present an appearance of normality and “everything under control,” even as still greater forces work to hollow the edifice and render it susceptible to toppling. when the final collapse arrives, many are shaken by its “suddenness.” Many more pretend to be, though they were aware of the process, and its probable terminus, all the while.

     I have come to believe that the fall of the constitutional federal republic called the United States of America began some decades ago. Despite America’s appearance of world-bestriding power, the process probably started well before the World Wars, no later than the Wilson Administration. What we’re witnessing now, as a corrupt Congress prepares to certify the takeover of the federal executive branch by America-hating insurrectionists while a corrupt judiciary looks on indifferently, is something akin to Cheyne-Stokes respiration. There may still be life in the patient, but the odds are great against its return to true vitality.

     Some will attempt to resuscitate the patient. Others will do their best to prevent them. Most will watch in helpless bewilderment, baffled at how the greatest sociopolitical experiment in human history could have come to this. And yes, afterward a semblance of normal American life will continue, for most if not all.

     Not many will be aware that the process began long ago. It could have been halted at its inception, had our forebears had a modicum of foresight and the willingness to act. But lack of awareness of a terrible fact doesn’t affect the fact itself.

---

     I’ve only just learned of this development:

     WASHINGTON (AP) — Bracing for possible violence, the nation’s capital has mobilized the National Guard ahead of planned protests by President Donald Trump’s supporters in connection with the congressional vote expected Wednesday to affirm Joe Biden’s election victory.

     Trump’s supporters are planning to rally Tuesday and Wednesday, seeking to bolster the president’s unproven claims of widespread voter fraud. “There are people intent on coming to our city armed,” D.C. Acting Police Chief Robert Contee said Monday.

     It’s a typical, scurrilously Left-slanted Associated Press article. Nevertheless, it leads with an important fact: military forces are being deployed to prevent any protest of the stolen election. Note that nothing of the kind happened when Antifa / BlackBloc forces assaulted pro-trump celebrations in Washington four years ago. The insurrectionists are maneuvering to prevent even the appearance of resistance to their coup. They must feel a need to preserve a facade of “the consent of the governed” against any suspicions to the contrary.

     The District of Columbia is but a few steps from transforming itself into a walled city, a citadel in which the power elite are secure against the outrage and protests of the hoi polloi. The Establishment surely desires that outcome. The use of soldiery to prevent the massing of opposition is the penultimate stage of their coup. The final stage is the disarming of the citizenry: a stroke the usurpers have already announced as their intention.

     As many others have already observed, the Founding Fathers would be shooting and erecting gallows today. But they would have started doing so long ago.

---

     This morning I am gripped by a terrible foreboding. I’d hoped that President Trump would have a clinching move to play, a rabbit out of the hat that would set the coup at naught and bring its plotters to justice. It appears that no such move is in prospect. Certainly we can expect nothing from our cowardly jurists, who would rather watch the nation burn than accept any hazard to themselves. But then, what is left, other than a mass uprising by We the People?

     Will a great mass of We the People confront American soldiers armed with military grade weaponry and pre-assured – quietly, no doubt – that any casualties to “rioters” will be quickly and cleanly swept under Washington’s voluminous rug? If so, what would follow? How many are willing to stake their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor on the possibility of replevin from this blatantly stolen election?

     To you who plan, in the face of all the disincentives, to go to Washington tomorrow and confront the usurpers and their Myrmidons: I salute you. I hope there are millions of you. I hope your numbers so intimidate the usurpers that they flee in terror before a round can be chambered, much less fired. I pray that it won’t cost you everything you hold dear.

     But that, sadly, is a hope against hope. The usurpers have pushed all their chips to the center of the table. They have come too far, and have nowhere to retreat; they must win or die. If the mass murder of American patriots is required to preserve their gains, then the mass murder of American patriots is what will be.

     Stay tuned. And pray.

From the people who want you to trust the technocrats.

An astonishing $36 billion has been lost to fraud in pandemic unemployment benefits, the Department of Labor reports .^[1]

The Truly Exceptionals can't stop a Nigerian hacker -- and more than 122,000 others -- but they want to instruct you on how to live. According to their plan, that is.

Check out these powedered swine. They have big plans for you:

I don't know about you but that reparations deal is yuge. Yuuuuuuuuuuge. Sign me up, 'chachos!

And just remember, in case you're in a state of permanent delusion, you're NOT a "stakeholder." That's a heffalump of some kind who doesn't roam in your part of the forest.

H/t: Martin Armstrong.

Notes
^[1] "‘It’s Easy Money’: Nigerian Scammer Laughs about Huge Sums Stolen from COVID Welfare Programs in Bombshell Interview." By Brad Polumbo, Foundation for Economic Education, 1/4/21.

Stop this right NOW.

Can we now stop calling this an election? By pretending this insurrection is a legitimate democratic process, we're playing into our enemy's hands, giving credence to the lie that a decrepit, corrupt, sickly old man, Joe Biden, has been elected president of the United States. This is not an election; it's a coup.

"The 2020 Insurrection." By Peggy Ryan, American Thinker, 1/4/21.

A Lost Life Purpose

Single people used to have ways to give their lives purpose.

• They could join religious orders, fitting themselves into a quasi-family, and bringing them a sense of a higher purpose.
• They could join the military as a career. In the old days, the pay/benefits generally didn't afford those beneath the officer level to take a spouse - and, for women, they would not be able to both have children and a military career. So, many of them dedicated themselves to their particular service during their active career. Some would have a late-in-life marriage, or live with/near family, or just retire to a quiet life of fishing and golf.
• They could live at home with parents and other family members, taking care of aging family, running the family farm. Being the unmarried uncle or aunt to many grateful nieces and nephews. Some would work outside, and contribute money to launch the lives of other family members. Others would foster children in times of family crisis or need.
• Hard as it is for today's youth to believe, many single people in previous times worked jobs that did NOT pay a "living wage", and only were able to stay alive because there was room and board (for ONE person) included with the job - household help, farm labor, cowboys. They were never able to save enough to afford to get married. That was also true of the enlisted men of pre-WWII times. What many of the career military did was to work until their pension would kick in, then marry a younger woman, or a widow with children. In essence, they time-delayed their family formation.

When did those purposes stop being sufficient? If you look to history, when a significant number of women no longer had an prospect of getting married to their social equals, that would be in the post-Civil War period. There had been some growth in unmarried upper class women before that time - that's the group that largely fulled the abolition, women's rights, and temperance movements.

But the flood of single ladies with little to occupy them overwhelmed the society after the Civil War's end. Some had little money, and needed to find ways to earn it. That need, and the growing numbers of women who devoured the books and magazines of that time, allowed some of them to make a living writing - some of the early feminists tried their hand at that trade, including Louisa May Alcott and Ida B. Wells. Their writing wasn't always revolutionary; many wrote tepid romance novels and fashion magazine articles.

Some, who had a slight independent income (although not enough to entice a potential spouse), threw themselves into politics, becoming the "Goo-Goos", the Good Government advocates. Like too many RINOs today, they believed passionately in Reform, and in the benefits that passing laws to outlaw graft, corruption, and fraud would bring to government.

Decade by decade, women lost their meaning in the traditional existence. Modern home machinery took away the back-breaking work, but it also reduced their sense of importance. They traded leisure for lack of purpose. They tried replacing that void with:

• PTA and other parental involvement activities
• Local charities and public-service organizations
• Social activities, formal and informal
• Crafts, cooking from scratch, and gardening - not from need, or desire, but to fill those lonely hours
• Shopping, traveling, lunching

Single women, after mid-century, tried to use jobs to replace that sense of purpose. Others engaged in sexual escapades, often with random strangers.

And, the men?

Aimless chasing after sexual adventures, drinking, gambling, gaming, and - for the very young - playing sports.

But, seldom any involvement in civic affairs, community organizations, or churches. That was left for the women. The idea of spending your leisure time improving your mind, or your community, was just not considered.

Notice what happened?

Except for alcohol-fueled outings, men and women conducted separate lives. No wonder so many say that they don't seem to be able to meet the opposite sex. They live completely disjointed lives.

Society needs to find ways for not-married non-parents to live a fulfilled life. The massive growth in Leftist adherence is largely due to the fact that they have created a means of doing so. By joining AntiFa, Woke Culture, or political activism on the Left, those without meaningful personal interactions gain a purpose for their lives.

A few years ago, the book The Purpose-Driven Life became a best-seller. That book, and others purporting to map out a blueprint for a meaningful life, speak to the deep hunger our culture has for spiritual meaning. Without our traditional focus on God, Americans have turned to other causes that provide a similar sense of purpose - such as BLM. It's no surprise that today's young people are turning to a mission that links them to the historical Civil Rights movement - their hunger to be a part of something bigger than themselves is powerful.

Perhaps most of history's causes were less about alleviating wrongs, and issuing in those who would correct abuses, than about filling that God-sized hole in their lives. I just hate to see so many people throw away their lives on those causes that are so intimately connected with the Death Cults of the Left.

The Foundation Is Gone

     “Politics is downstream from culture.” – Andrew Breitbart

     A few years ago, I wrote a pair of essays on the deterioration of male-female relations and its most important secondary effect: the declines in marriage and marital stability. Here are the links:

• The Crumbling Cornerstone
• The Crumbling Cornerstone Part 2: Mental Avoidances

     I’ve written other pieces on the subject, of course, but I regard those two as the warning siren that – if I had anything like a wide readership – “should” have alerted Americans to the future they faced. Well, that future has arrived, and its implications for further deterioration are even uglier:

     Fewer U.S. adults now than in past years believe it is "very important" for couples who have children together to be married. Currently, 29% say it is very important that such a couple legally marry, down from 38% who held this view in 2013 and 49% in 2006.

     Another 31% of U.S. adults currently say it is "somewhat important" for couples with children to be married, bringing the total to 60% who consider it important to some degree. Meanwhile, four in 10 say it is not too (18%) or not at all (22%) important.

     In 2006, Americans were more than twice as likely to say it is very important (49%) for couples with children to wed as to say it is not important (23%).

     The latest results are based on Gallup's annual Values and Beliefs poll, conducted May 1-13. The poll updated several trends on Americans' views about marriage asked previously over the past two decades.

     The above statistics capture a trend away from marriage and family formation that couldn’t be clearer if it were sky-written in blacker-than-black thousand-point type.

     The easiest thing in the world is to predict that a trend in progress will continue. You’ll eventually be wrong, of course (“Trees do not grow to the sky.” – Baron Philippe de Rothschild) but averaged over time, you’ll be right more often than not. Therefore I predict, with fair confidence, that the trend away from marriage and family formation will continue.

     If this trend continues much further, it heralds the end of Christian-Enlightenment civilization.

---

“But it's alright, it's alright
For we lived so well so long.
Still, when I think of the road we're traveling on,
I wonder what's gone wrong...
I can't help but wonder what’s gone wrong.”

[Paul Simon]

     The political morass of our era consumes a great deal of popular attention. (Yes, mine too.) It makes me wonder how many people are familiar with the Breitbart quote at the top of the previous segment...and how many of them actually believe it.

     Among the things that most strongly shape our culture is our attitude toward the future. Do we care about the future? How far forward do our cares extend? Why? What predisposes a man to care about the years that will follow his departure from this veil of tears?

     The answers are not hard to find. Our concern for what might follow our deaths arises from those things we hope to survive us:

• Our progeny,
• Our businesses,
• Our reputations.

     Let’s leave businesses and reputations to the side for now. He who has children is most likely to be concerned with the future. (Yes, that assumes that he loves his children.) He who has seen his children become adults and produce children of their own has doubled reasons. But he who has not produced offspring has a nearer horizon for his decision-making. All other things being equal, he will care less about what will follow his death than the man with progeny.

     Marriage has been the traditional method for protecting the well-being of fertile women and the children they have borne. No other method known to Mankind has worked nearly as well at safeguarding those interests. But any Gentle Reader of Liberty’s Torch will be aware that marriages in our time are more fragile, are shorter on average, and tend to produce fewer children than the marriages of previous generations of Americans. Combine those trends with the suspicions and animosities that bedevil relations between the sexes. What does the combination say about our interest in our future?

     Need I say explicitly that a people unconcerned with the future are unlikely to build a stable society, nor to preserve and nurture the social supports bequeathed them by their forebears? Perhaps not, but as is my wont I’ve done so anyway.

     Without a preponderance of stable families that produce and cherish children, Christian-Enlightenment society – especially its highest expression, the United States of America – cannot long endure. It will lack the foundation it needs to sustain it.

---

     “Ve get too soon old und too late schmart.” – Old World maxim

     Rather than flog this beast all the way to the glue factory, I’ll close with an observation from about forty years back. It’s a semi-hopeful observation, which might presage the end of the destructive anti-marital, anti-natal trends. However, it would be foolish to presume that it means anything more than what it’s meant to my Long Island neighborhood: i.e., a reduction in the traffic on Friday and Saturday nights.

     There was a developer who’d received approval for a multi-family compound on a nearby plot of land. He was licking his chops over his prospects, for he had noted the trends toward ever more single people living alone, along with ever smaller families. So he planned for an apartment complex that was heavy with one-bedroom units: the sort of pad that would appeal to bachelors, bachelorettes, and the divorced. After all, if they were “the future” – and given the trends, he had good reason to think so – then marketing to them was the smartest course. At the time Long Island didn’t have much convenient housing for singles, so he’d be tapping an underserved market.

     Sounds like good market analysis, doesn’t it? It certainly did at the time. Working from that vision, the developer produced a 200-apartment complex that was heavily weighted toward small units. It quickly attracted exactly the sort of tenant he sought. It also acquired a moniker: Sin City. (I have no idea whether he was aware of that, nor if he was, whether he cared.)

     That apartment complex is almost empty today. I believe the company that operates it has gone into receivership. I can’t say why of my own knowledge. Certainly such an enterprise is subject to many influences, currents, and vicissitudes. Regardless, the original flood of tenants has left and has not been replaced by tenants like them. Why not?

     Time passes. Things change. People’s desires change. Some regret their earlier ways and strive to change them. Then there’s technology to consider, and its response to the changes in human desires. One advancing technology is making it possible for women to have healthy children safely at a later age than ever before in history...and an increasing number of women are discovering, much to their own surprise and chagrin, that marriage, a stable home, and a husband and children to love are the things they really want and should have pursued from the outset.

     Naturally, the radical feminists eager to keep “the war between the sexes” hot and bloody condemn this development. Could they counteract it and keep the anti-marriage, anti-natal trends “healthy?” It remains to be seen. But at least the evidence is not wholly in their favor.

     That’s it for me for today. Enjoy your Sunday.

A Resolution For 2021 And Beyond

     Shamelessly stolen from Bookworm:

     That’s a New Year’s Resolution I’m sure I can keep.

Some Thoughts in Ordinary Time

I created a new post to ruminate about this.

BTW, Happy New Year. Let's hope it marks a turning point for the United States. Or, what's left of it.

I saw this after I posted the above - the first line got me, good.

If ever there was a year for a stiff drink, it was 2020.

Turnaround Games And Rebellion Dreams

     There really isn’t much to say about the presidential election that hasn’t already been said, many times and quite ably. The election was stolen, everyone with three or more functioning brain cells knows it was stolen, and everyone knows that Congressional Democrats and the majority of Congressional Republicans will vote to certify it even so. Their motives might vary, but the result will be that Congress will certify a blatantly stolen election to get the anti-Establishmentarian Donald Trump out of the White House and install a properly house-trained Establishmentarian puppet. All that having been said, I’ll confine myself to a single observation. (About the election itself; you know very well that I can’t confine myself to a single anything. At least, not for long.)

     Had the presidency been stolen for a sitting Republican whom the GOP Establishment found to their taste, here is what would have happened:

• Congressional Democrats would assail the election as obviously stolen;
• Congressional Republicans would defend the election results as honest and valid;
• We’d endure the same foofaurauw we’ve suffered since November 3, but with colors reversed.

     (Oh, one more thing: the media would side with the Democrats. We’d hear nothing from the Tappers, Stelters, Ryans, and so on about questioning the election returns being “sedition” or “treason.” But you could have worked that out by yourself.)

     If nothing else could have done so, this election has clarified the central political issue of our time: America’s federal government has far too much power, an incomprehensible percentage of which resides in the Oval Office. Therefore, merely saving Donald Trump’s second term is not enough.

     It’s time for other measures.

---

     According to James C. Scott as quoted by Tim Condon, “Irish democracy” consists of widespread passive resistance to the decrees of the Omnipotent State:

     Quiet, anonymous, and often complicitous, lawbreaking and disobedience may well be the historically preferred mode of political action for peasant and subaltern classes, for whom open defiance is too dangerous….One need not have an actual conspiracy to achieve the practical effects of a conspiracy. More regimes have been brought, piecemeal, to their knees by what was once called “Irish Democracy”—the silent, dogged resistance, withdrawal, and truculence of millions of ordinary people—than by revolutionary vanguards or rioting mobs.

     The premise behind “Irish Democracy” is that the State lacks the enforcement power to have its way with millions upon millions of rebels. It’s Mohandas Gandhi’s strategy, albeit without his overt confrontations with the institutions of government. “You can ignore the State and do as you please, as long as you keep your head down.”

     Interactions between individuals with compatible motives are the best settings for “Irish Democracy” style rebellious action. Here’s a typical case from the late Cyril Northcote Parkinson. A British subject is goggling over the bill from his surgeon:

     "Your fee of £4000," the patient said, "represents the proportion I retain from the last £44,500 of my income. To pay you without being worse off would mean earning another £44,500 more than last year, no easy task."

     "Well," replied the surgeon, "you know how it is. It is only by charging you that much that I can afford to charge others little or nothing."

     "No doubt," said the patient. "But the fee will absorb £44,500 of my theoretical income -- no inconsiderable sum. Might I ask what proportion of the £4000 you will manage to retain?"

     It was the surgeon's turn to scribble calculations, as a result of which he concluded that his actual gain, after tax had been paid, would amount to £800.

     "Allow me to observe," said the patient, that I must therefore earn £44,500 in order to give you £800 of spendable income; the entire balance going to the government. Does that strike you as a transaction profitable to either of us?"

     "Well, frankly, no," admitted the surgeon. "Put like that the whole thing is absurd. But what else can we do?"

     "First, we can make certain that no one is listening. No one at the keyhole? No federal agent under the bed? No tape recorder in the -- ? Are you quite sure we can keep this strictly to ourselves?"

     "Quite sure," said the surgeon after opening the door and glancing up and down the corridor. "What do you suggest?"

     "Come closer so that I can whisper. Why don't I give you a case of scotch and call it quits?"

     "Not enough," hissed the surgeon. "But if you made it two cases -- "

     "Yes?"

     "-- and lent me your cabin cruiser for three weeks in September -- "

     "Yes?"

     "-- We might call it a deal!"

     "That's fine. And do you know what gave me the idea? I studied Parkinson's Second Law and realized that excessive taxation has made nonsense of everything!"

     [C. Northcote Parkinson, The Law and the Profits]

---

     Removing the overt confrontations makes “Irish Democracy” much safer than any other form of rebellion. The State needs conspicuous, targetable rebels. It cannot use terror of its forces without someone to turn into an “example.” No conspicuous rebels means nothing for the State to crucify for the edification of the public. As we mathematical types like to say, quod erat demonstrandum.

     Think that through. What makes anyone, or any institution, conspicuous? One sufficient qualification is great size. The State loves bigness for that reason, among others. That’s why we have an economy dominated by a few thousand mega-corporations. It’s far easier to shackle a giant corporation than the ten thousand small businesses it replaced. The benighted thing can’t move quickly enough to get out from under the State’s crosshairs.

     Another sufficient qualification is noise. The angry, vociferous rebel is asking to be targeted by the State, whether he intends that or not. We may deem him noble for his outspokenness in the cause of freedom, but there’s no denying that he’s courting a huge risk. Should the State decide that he’s acquired enough of a following to be a genuine threat, that risk will be reified.

     The third sufficient qualification is disruption of an important aspect of the economic status quo. There are many things one can do that will send a tremor through the economy. Above a certain magnitude, such tremors threaten the self-seeking arrangements of people in power. When that happens, they will act against the disruptor. The “poster boy” for this phenomenon is Michael Milken, who despite having committed not even one illegal act, was targeted for destruction by the Establishment whose dominance and perquisites he threatened.

     Those three qualifications constitute a checklist: characteristics to avoid if you want to stay below the State’s radar.

---

     I could go on about this, but I don’t think there’s a need. The implications are fairly plain. If you deem the governments of these United States to have become illegitimate, you might find the notion of “Irish Democracy” attractive. Think about the observations above. Think about how you could arrange your affairs so as to dismiss the demands of the State while remaining free of its scrutiny. While it would be harder for some than for others, millions of Americans and their enterprises could contrive to ignore the demands and decrees of the governments that claim “authority” over us.

     There are other approaches of varying appeal, such as “going Galt.” They amount to the same thing: rebellion without the need to load the magazines and man the barricades. Choose the course that best accords with your tastes.

One Rule for Us, Another for Them

 I couldn’t stop reading these. Yes, they are that obvious.

A Godly Start to the New Year

It wasn't until someone commented on a thread (can't remember where) that I realized the Catholic tradition of attendance at New Year's Day mass wasn't understood by the majority of Christians. So, I'm giving a quick summary of the month's highlights, in terms of holy days and feasts.

1. New Year's Day is what non-Catholics call today. January 1 is labeled The Solemnity of Mary, and, in the United States, is a Holy Day of Obligation (one of the non-Sundays on which attendance at mass is not optional). 
1. It's also the Octave of Christmas (it falls on the 8th day after Christ's birth). It's also the day that Christ was circumcised.
2. This day has been celebrated since the early days of the Church; beans or lentils are a traditional dish for the meal.
2. Epiphany is on January 3rd on the calendar; Epiphany is traditionally associated with the arrival of the Magi (3 Kings). It may, instead, be celebrated on January 6, the usual Three Kings Day. But, we live in America, so we tend to time-shift many holy days to the nearest or earliest Sunday. BTW, Holy Day is the origin of our word Holiday.
3. January 10th is the Baptism of the Lord. No, it wasn't something that occurred in his infancy - Jesus was an adult when John the Baptist immersed him in the waters of the Jordan, and performed the ceremony that marked the official beginning of his public ministry.

After the Baptism, the church labeled Sundays as Ordinary Time, which means any time period not included in the official seasons of Advent, Christmas, Lent, or Easter.

The Holy Days of Obligation are: Solemnity of Mary, Ascension, Assumption, All Saint's, Immaculate Conception, and Christmas. Surprisingly, Ash Wednesday is NOT one of them, although many people would not think of starting Lent without attending Church and getting the ashes traced on their forehead.

Here's a graphic that shows how the Catholic year is carved up.

If There is Not Open Revolt, It's All Over

From the Victory Girls, a chilling assault on civil rights.

For the Love of God, what will it take for people to rise up?

And, from the same source, a link to Justice Alito's speech on COVID restrictions, given at a virtual meeting of The Federalist Society. I recommend that you read it all.

Think of all the live events that would otherwise be protected by the right to freedom of speech, live speeches, conferences, lectures, meetings. Think of worship services. Churches closed on Easter Sunday, synagogues closed for Passover and Yom Kippur. Think about access to the courts or the constitutional right to a speedy trial. Trials in federal courts have virtually disappeared in many places. Who could have imagined that? The COVID crisis has served as a sort of constitutional stress test and in doing so, it has highlighted disturbing trends that were already present before the virus struck.

 If I allow myself to dwell on this too long, I become heartsick. This is not the country I grew up in - and, for those who are convinced that it was, at that time, a racist version of hell, let me say that I watched the marches of the Civil Rights Era, and - like most people I knew, cheered them on.

There were changes during that time - women won rights to work while pregnant, and to keep their job after (Cleveland Teachers Union lawsuit, that ended up in the Supreme Court). They began moving into jobs that had previously been not open to them. They began to flood into colleges, which led to their current position of being in the majority on almost every campus.

Race? Aside from official Civil Rights legislation, minorities moved into the leadership positions in employment, began to advance educationally, started companies at an increasing clip (Motown, for one), and put a halt to the underemployment of Black men and women, which had educated people occupying low-level positions for decades.

By the time I got married (1974), gays were busting out of the closet. Even the rise of AIDS didn't stop that process.

So, what was that country like?

• Government was generally not intrusive into private life, at any level. If you had a beef with a neighbor, you walked over to their house, and settled it peacefully. How you decorated your home, how you raised your children, and how you spent your own money was YOUR business. A common phrase, when confronted with someone trying to limit your freedom, was, "Who died and made YOU a policeman?"
• Schools did their best to teach kids to read, write, and do math. Along the way, they passed along lessons of civility and basic manners (for those with delinquent parents). They taught geography, history, and civics (the OLD kind, that taught levels of government, Constitutional rights and responsponsibilities, and how government functioned). Most kids managed the basics; a relative few went on to finish high school, and even fewer went beyond. The teachers were primarily the Old Maid schoolteachers (who in today's world, would be boardroom material), returned vets, and a very few academically-minded guys.
• Neighbors worked together to improve their lives, starting sports teams, Scouts, raising money for charities, and keeping order in their local areas (chasing away the teens up to no good, watching out for neighbors who were out of town, dealing with bullies). The women worked in informal ways to help others out, by looking after kids on an ad hoc basis, passing along clothes to pregnant women and new mothers, making meals for the homebound, and joining PTA and other groups to improve their communities.
• In my neighborhood, rowdiness after dark was not common - even on the weekends. We lived in quiet neighborhoods, where the families, after dinner, would watch TV, read, play board games, or quietly talk. People were conscious of sleeping babies, fathers who needed to get up early for work, and school schedules - they would not have thought their desire for 'fun' was more important than other people's need for a quiet environment.
  

And, what do we have in this time?

Karen-ish Scolds of the Elite left telling us Plebians to 'stay home', while enjoying a tropical vacation.

And, yes, I checked - not ONE picture of Teigen or her family members in a mask.

Quelle surprise!

One amazing thing - almost 150 member of the GOP have stepped up to the plate, agreeing to formally challenge the election results. Wish it was 100%, but I'm a realist. Those members should form the core of the New GOP Revival Team. My suggestion is that attempting to start a new party takes up too much time and money, and gives enemies an easy target. Better to co-opt the already-existing apparatus.

The Precinct Project, a few years ago, had some ideas on how to do that. This should be the year to hit that plan, full bore - we will never find a better time to do it. No, party politics is NOT 'the answer'. But, it's a PUBLIC activity, that can be assisted with less-public actions.

But, there has to be a public arm of any resistance.

Personally?

If I had to pick ONE goal, I'd say personal prep - fitness, supplies, education, networking. Focus on those that don't depend on other people's cooperation and assistance.

Never, ever, EVER black failure.

Another thing happened in parallel to the grievance hysterias on campus. The half-century-long civil rights campaign that went up a dead-end with all the family-destroying social services policies of the late 20th century, became such a manifestly embarrassing failure with an ever-growing hostile and dangerous underclass, that, in abject shame and disappointment, all of white liberaldom had to come up with an excuse for that failure, which finally fluoresced as Critical Race Theory with its hobgoblin-in-chief, systemic racism.

"Forecast 2021 — Chinese Fire Drills with a side of French Fries (Jacobin-style) and Russian Dressing." By James Kunstler, Clusterfuck Nation, 1/1/21.