The Pillars Of Power

     I once wrote:

     Many are the laws that go unenforced, or are selectively enforced according to the whim of “the authorities.” Many are the laws written to target particular institutions or individuals, who are thus made “enemies of the state” in fact if not in name. Many are the laws written so obscurely that even those who wrote them cannot explain their intent nor their effect. Many are the laws that have advanced injustice rather than justice.

     When those who claim to represent the law decide, arbitrarily, when it applies and what degree of enforcement it deserves, then there is no law. When they decide, for whatever reason, that the law binds some persons but not others, then there is no law. When the law is written in such a fashion that no one can be certain what it compels or forbids, then there is no law. And when the law is “interpreted” to override the natural rights of individuals to their lives, liberties, and honestly acquired properties, then there is no law.

     I meant it then, and I mean it now.

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     I’ve also written, on several occasions, that the pillars of freedom are three: education, communications, and weaponry. Power-seekers know that quite well. In every society on Earth, the State strives to control all three: to impose itself upon them; to thwart alternatives to them; and to prevent escape from the State’s versions of them. I challenge you, Gentle Reader, to cite an exception. Thus, what serves the freedom-seeker can serve the power-seeker equally well.

     Let’s have a quick survey of those things in these United States:

• Education is almost completely controlled by governments. Their tool for imposing State-controlled “public” education upon us is principally economic: high levels of taxation that demand two incomes per family and discourage expenditures on educational alternatives. The escape of homeschooling compels serious economic compromises by families that choose it.
• Armament in private hands is obviously suppressed by governments to the maximum possible extent, despite the “protections” of the Second Amendment. Yes, you can buy a surplus tank or howitzer, but only after rigorous investigation by the State and rendering the thing impotent for conflict.
• Private persons’ ability to communicate is where we retain the greatest latitude. However, it’s also where the State is most active today, principally through lawfare, anti-“hate speech” campaigns, and the seduction of Big Tech into its agenda.

     All that, despite the “protections” of the Constitution! No need to imagine where we’d be without the Constitution; just look at what’s been done to the peoples of Europe.

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     So we see that the pillars of freedom serve equally well as the pillars of power. To the extent that the State controls them, it controls us. It denies us and our progeny what we need to retain even a shred of freedom. Flee? To where?

     Have a bit of Orwell for dessert:

     If there is hope, wrote Winston, it lies in the proles.
     If there was hope, it must lie in the proles, because only there in those swarming disregarded masses, 85 per cent of the population of Oceania, could the force to destroy the Party ever be generated. The Party could not be overthrown from within. Its enemies, if it had any enemies, had no way of coming together or even of identifying one another. Even if the legendary Brotherhood existed, as just possibly it might, it was inconceivable that its members could ever assemble in larger numbers than twos and threes. Rebellion meant a look in the eyes, an inflexion of the voice, at the most, an occasional whispered word. But the proles, if only they could somehow become conscious of their own strength. would have no need to conspire. They needed only to rise up and shake themselves like a horse shaking off flies. If they chose they could blow the Party to pieces tomorrow morning. Surely sooner or later it must occur to them to do it? And yet-!
     He remembered how once he had been walking down a crowded street when a tremendous shout of hundreds of voices women’s voices — had burst from a side-street a little way ahead. It was a great formidable cry of anger and despair, a deep, loud ’Oh-o-o-o-oh!’ that went humming on like the reverberation of a bell. His heart had leapt. It’s started! he had thought. A riot! The proles are breaking loose at last! When he had reached the spot it was to see a mob of two or three hundred women crowding round the stalls of a street market, with faces as tragic as though they had been the doomed passengers on a sinking ship. But at this moment the general despair broke down into a multitude of individual quarrels. It appeared that one of the stalls had been selling tin saucepans. They were wretched, flimsy things, but cooking-pots of any kind were always difficult to get. Now the supply had unexpectedly given out. The successful women, bumped and jostled by the rest, were trying to make off with their saucepans while dozens of others clamoured round the stall, accusing the stall-keeper of favouritism and of having more saucepans somewhere in reserve.
     There was a fresh outburst of yells. Two bloated women, one of them with her hair coming down, had got hold of the same saucepan and were trying to tear it out of one another’s hands. For a moment they were both tugging, and then the handle came off. Winston watched them disgustedly. And yet, just for a moment, what almost frightening power had sounded in that cry from only a few hundred throats! Why was it that they could never shout like that about anything that mattered?
     He wrote:
     Until they become conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious.

     “The proles” are us, Gentle Reader. We quarrel over potholes, zoning laws, the noise from this one’s barking dog and whether that one’s hedge violates community standards. We joust over school buses, and after-school programs, and trivial differences in property tax rates. We contend over “inequality.” We’ll fight to the death over that last saucepan.

     What would we do, were we actually conscious of what’s been done to us? What’s still being done to us? Would anyone dare try to smash any one of the three pillars of power? Who would risk his life and fortune to try?

     Perhaps I’ll be back later. Just now, it’s time for Mass.

The Terrible Power Of ‘If’ Part 2

     Writer R. G. Ryan deposeth and saith:

     New York just elected a communist as mayor. OK fine. What if instead of running around with our hair on fire screaming about the demise of the Republic we just let it play out. Maybe view it as a huge social experiment. I don’t think it will take us all that long to see whether this version of socialism works or not.

     It’s a suggestion being made in several quarters. Such an experiment will affect the lives of millions, many of whom would rather not be involved in it. But it appears that socialism’s next trial run will take place whether they wish it or not. That returns us to the questions posed in the previous piece.

     There’s quite a bit of danger here. Not all of it is visible.

     The asymmetrical and elevated taxation newly elected Mayor Zohran Mamdani has in mind to power his agenda is of concern, of course. During his campaign he said that he wants to lay heavier taxes on “richer, whiter” areas. New York City’s income tax, like the state and federal versions, allows for “progressive” rates that bite harder as one’s income increases, so given the cooperation of the city council, he could get away with it. But the persons who live in those “richer, whiter” districts are more mobile than many other New Yorkers. They might choose not to stay and be shorn.

     Mamdani hasn’t yet suggested the expropriations characteristic of communist regimes, but it’s a good bet they’re not far from his thoughts. When the State goes into competition with private enterprises, that measure becomes ever more attractive to the regime. Big Apple businesses could feel Mamdani’s clutching fingers at any moment, especially in the food sector, which he’s openly targeted. Other businesses will be endangered simply from increases in the city’s cost of living and operating.

     There’s also a looming prospect for the suppression of dissent. Socialist and communist regimes dislike to have their failures discussed. Mamdani might follow the example currently being set by Britain’s Labour government: declare any public statements it finds uncongenial “hate speech” and deploy the police against the speakers.

     But those are the easily seen dangers. There’s a less visible one that deserves mention: the possibility that with adroit maneuvering and heavy support from the donors that financed his campaign, Mamdani might contrive a “honeymoon” that makes his version of socialism look workable.

     The 1988 serial A Very British Coup dramatized such a possibility. Freshly elected Labour prime minister Harry Perkins, by dint of personal charisma and financial support from the Soviet Union, had engineered a state of affairs in which the United Kingdom appeared to have achieved a version of socialism in which the country was economically stable and at peace. The premise of the drama was that various titled Tories would not have it: they counter-engineer a clever, almost entirely bloodless coup against the Perkins government. The series ends with Perkins addressing the nation with the outline of the coup: he challenges Britons to choose between his elected government and the Conservative plotters.

     Mamdani has already begun to solicit financial support for his intentions from those who backed his campaign. Will those donors ante up to fuel his schemes, thus providing a grace period during which the inherently unworkable appears to work? What would ensue? Would New York State’s government be induced to support his agenda?

     These are all hypotheticals, of course: “if” statements. But they delineate dangers and possibilities that deserve some thought.

The Terrible Power Of ‘If’

     Good morning, Gentle Reader. I hope you got more sleep than I did. Anyway, here we are, with Hallowe’en and Guy Fawkes Day comfortably behind us, it’s time to proceed to the really urgent questions of our time, such as this one:

What if Mamdani’s social experiment actually turns out to be a success?

— Sarah Luna (@sarah_luna_1111) November 6, 2025

     I think the lady who asked that question did so to gauge the astonished outrage in the reactions. Apparently, she wasn’t disappointed. But the question itself is worth thinking about, for a very simple albeit troubling reason:

Any Sociopolitical System Will Work
If Enough Of Those Subjected To It
Accept And Believe In It.

     ...with the murmured codicil:

...For Certain Values Of “Work.”

     Those who find the above confusing should read the title of this tirade a few dozen times.

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     Some words have more power than others. “If” is one such. In Godel Escher Bach, Douglas Hofstadter called it “the push into fantasy,” and it is so. What follows “if” can be as bizarre and outrageous as you please, else why would we use it?

     Sarah Luna’s innocent-looking question compels us to probe for what “success” – just another way of saying “would work” – would mean to a socialist regime. For we know all the following, from both theory and history:

• Socialism is economically inefficient.
• It requires coercion to bring it about.
• The great majority endure a lower standard of living than under capitalism.
• The ruling elite acquire wealth and power unavailable to anyone else.
• That creates emigration pressure, which must be quelled by force.
• It also encourages military expansionism.

     All that having been said, a socialist system can be said to “work” if the overwhelming majority of those subjected to it voluntarily accept its constraints and conditions. That requires the elevation of socialism to a moral precept: i.e., that any other sociopolitical system is morally wrong.

     By any other standard, socialism is a failure. Only if those subjected to it accept it as a moral code – a faith — can it be stabilized.

     The great Gregory Benford summarized this problem in his novel Against Infinity:

     “The Marxists thought that under socialism, alienation and class warfare would stop. They ignored the fact that the dialectical model of change never predicted an end to contradictions, or to evolution. Socialism requires a bureaucracy, and that means an administrative class. The administrators faced a problem Marxism never discussed: how well socialism works, versus capitalism. What is the good of being exactly equal to everybody else, if that means you have to be poor? The last century has taught us—or rather, Earth—that socialism is less efficient than capitalism at producing goods.”

     In other words, if the standard is an unquestionable moral precept that “capitalism is wrong and socialism is right,” socialism “succeeds.”

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     Mamdani’s vision of a socialist New York City has only that one chance of survival: persuading the overwhelming majority of Big Apple residents that the conditions he seeks to impose upon them are morally mandatory. Is that even thinkable, in the city that’s been the commercial and financial hub of the world for a century – the city that’s been called “the capital of capitalism?”

     It doesn’t seem likely, but stranger things have happened. Perhaps all the “diehard capitalists” will “emigrate” to friendlier cities and states. Perhaps the remaining residents will accept the much lower standard of living socialism provides as the price for being “right” while the rest of us are “wrong.” It’s just a moral stricture, qualitatively the same as Christianity’s requirement that married men remain faithful to their wives.

     But it’s not likely. Big Apple residents are accustomed to high wages and affluence. Mamdani will face pressure to raise revenues without raising taxes appreciably. He’ll appeal to the state government, and possibly the federal government, for aid. And it’s not entirely impossible that he’ll get it. Remember the Great Default of 1975 under Mayor Abraham Beame?

     Concerning the possibility of a fiscal collapse, Manhattan Institute fellow E. J. McMahon comments:

     Could New York City ever go broke again? The answer is no—or at least, not in the same way as it did in the 1970s, because of financial guardrails set up by the reforms of that era. The prosperity that lifted New York out of virtual bankruptcy, however, also seeded new versions of the political impulses that gave rise to the crisis in the first place. The elected officials who nowadays dominate city hall and Albany exude a sense of fiscal entitlement and economic invulnerability, an aversion to any suggestion of limits on government ambitions, strikingly reminiscent of the Wagner and Lindsay eras. The city’s sprawling network of tax-subsidized nonprofits—a political force that didn’t exist a half-century ago—lobbies relentlessly for higher spending while serving as an organizational network for progressive activists and politicians. Nearly one-quarter of New York’s private-sector employment—twice the share of 30 years ago—is now concentrated in the publicly subsidized health-care and social-assistance sector, which accounts for all the city’s post-pandemic job growth. The municipal labor unions are as powerful as ever, if not more so.
     In short, New York City is poised for another epic fiscal fall. A moderately severe recession is all it would take to push it over the edge. This time, the climb back to fiscal stability could be considerably more difficult.

     Those “political impulses” have come to fruition with the election of socialist Zohran Mamdani.

The Solution Is Neither Obvious Nor Pleasant

     I keep seeing queries such as this:

What tool can store owners own to stop this from happening?! 🚨pic.twitter.com/cOKcoVFkZn

— Anti Left Memes (@AntiLeftMemes) November 5, 2025

     My first thought was for stores to invest in security doors. But storefronts almost all incorporate display windows; thieves that know they won’t be opposed by superior force will smash through them. It’s already been done several times, sometimes with a vehicle. Even armor glass will shatter under that kind of force. So that’s no solution.

     My second thought was for stores to close their retail storefronts and go “delivery only.” But a thief can follow a delivery truck, assault its driver wherever he stops to make a delivery, and make free with the truck’s contents. Once again, the absence of a superior opposing force is what matters.

     So there must be a superior opposing force. Such a force must possess lethal armament that it can and will use at need. A sufficiently high probability of death will deter most thieves, even those that travel in packs. But where are we to find such a force?

     Only the readiness to deal death to attackers has any prospect of success. But even that falls short of perfection. Armored cars with armed guards have been successfully attacked, too. If the thief (or gang of thieves) is heavily armed and willing to risk counterfire, he’ll take his chances.

     Amazon’s delivery trucks have been attacked many times. The driver is usually helpless before such an attack. He may even have been instructed not to resist. In a quiet residential neighborhood, most of its residents at their jobs, where would his protection come from?

     Perfection cannot be the standard. Even were all of us to go armed at all times, there would be some forcible thievery. Ironically, many states deem the protection of property an inadequate justification for the use of lethal force. In New York, a homeowner is forbidden to shoot a burglar unless he can convince a jury that his own life was in danger. Else he may spend several years in prison as the price for stopping the burglar. Never mind that such legal protection of the thief’s “right to life” practically licenses home invaders to do as they will.

     Rose Wilder Lane, in The Discovery of Freedom, noted that what protects most of us is other people’s respect for our rights, rather than the prospect of arrest, trial, and incarceration. But when that respect declines, so does the invisible defense of our persons and property it once provided.

     Americans must become a people in arms once again. Yes, there will be consequences. Some people will die – and some of those will be good people. But with the general understanding of and respect for rights of all kinds having declined so sharply, the time has come for Nemesis to return to the stage and teach the villains once again what follows from Hubris.

Muslim Privilege

     A reckoning is due:

     Is there anyone out there who wants to discuss “privilege?”

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     Islam is an aggressive, imperialist creed. Little about it is even quasi-religious. When Muslims do things like congregate in the street to “pray,” what they’re really doing is asserting their superiority over secular law. Any other fool who would dare to block a public thoroughfare would swiftly be arrested for obstructing traffic, and possibly disturbing the peace as well. When Muslims do it, the “authorities” pretend it isn’t happening. Taking official notice and dispatching law enforcement to clear the obstruction might have... consequences.

     Don’t mumble “freedom of religion” at me. No other creed would be permitted such disturbances of public order. But our lily-livered “authorities” are either too intimidated by Islamic propensity to violence, or find it useful for keeping the rest of us cowed.

     But ordinary Americans find that we’ve had quite enough. Some of us own trucks with plow blades on them. And a whole lot of us own firearms.

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     You may be familiar with the following passage:

     “What I actually am, Mr. Rearden, is a policeman. It is a policeman’s duty to protect men from criminals—criminals being those who seize wealth by force. It is a policeman’s duty to retrieve stolen property and return it to its owners. But when robbery becomes the purpose of the law, and the policeman’s duty becomes, not the protection, but the plunder of property—then it is an outlaw who has to become a policeman.”

     It’s from Atlas Shrugged, of course. “Pirate” Ragnar Danneskjold is explaining his peculiar occupation to Hank Rearden. But stolen property is only one form of lawbreaking that requires a forcible response. Stolen freedom of transit and stolen public order are no less deserving of our attentions.

     President Trump has approved of the use of significant force when it’s needed to apprehend illegal aliens. Perhaps someone should ask him about these Islamic “street prayers” and what he would approve in response to them. Tear gas, perhaps? Rubber bullets? Or maybe firehoses?

     They must be quelled, and swiftly. If the “authorities” won’t act, private citizens must. Else the law is meaningless, and Islam reigns de facto over these United States.

Important Truths Dept.

     Did you know that millions of people will believe anything at all, however absurd, if it begins with “Did you know that...” -- ?

     No, really! 😉

Could We, Should We Dept.

     Actor Kevin Sorbo asks:

     Muslim militants post selfies with thousands of dead civilians after conquering major Sudanese city! So what are we going to do about it??

     Hm. Sudan, you say? That’s in Africa, isn’t it? What we used to call the “Dark Continent?” Doesn’t Sudan, a sovereignty with a seat in the United Nations General Assembly, have its own military? Couldn’t they do something about the violence? Or is the Sudanese government disinclined to act?

     If that last is the case, an American expeditionary force would have to contend with both the Muslim militants and the Sudanese army. We might have to destroy the latter before we could confront the former. What then? More “nation building?” Perhaps another massive occupation force, to give our precious diplomats and experts time to teach the Sudanese to be civilized members of the global community? That worked out well in Afghanistan, didn’t it?

     And there’s this question to answer: What American interests would be served by intervening in Sudan’s internal chaos?

     Yes, I’m being a bit heavy-handed here, but the impulse demanded some air. We forget so swiftly what our other foreign interventions have wrought. We overlook the savagery that characterizes all of Africa. We think ourselves too powerful to be gainsaid... and too benevolent to be wrong.

     But maybe this time it will be different, you say? What evidence exists for that proposition? And what degree of bloodshed on the part of young Americans would you be willing to invest in the possibility?

     I am so tired of this shit.

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     Intervenors of every variety call for America to fix other peoples, other nations, other continents. Some of them are genuinely benevolent. Some of them sincerely believe in America’s omnipotence. And some of them see an opportunity for power or baksheesh. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. We can’t do it.

     With all our power and wealth, we cannot raise savages to the level of intelligence and clarity required for the job. I wrote about this long ago:

     America is what it is because it is a made society, founded on clearly understood principles by a pioneer people. The societies of Africa are legacy societies, weighed down by the tribal traditions, superstitions and animosities of thousands of years, unleavened by the Enlightenment from which our core concepts sprang. Until Africa renounces its past, there will be no room in which to build a new future.

     But Africa will not renounce its past. It hasn't yet outgrown its belief in magic. Combatants in the Liberian nightmare are eating their slain enemies' vital organs, in accord with the ancient voodoo belief that this will add the strength of the vanquished to their own. So Liberians look across the Atlantic and cry, "Help us, Lady Liberty! Feed us! We are poor and terrified, you are rich and strong! Bring your breadbasket and your gun and deliver us from the darkness!"

     You cannot have a civilized nation without civilized people. You cannot have a civilized people without both Christian ethics and the Enlightenment. Haven’t our previous ventures into civilizing other lands made that clear yet?

     But that do-gooding impulse can be so strong.

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     The West can’t help Africa. Nor should we. The record speaks for itself. – Kim Du Toit

     Painful truths are the most aggravating kind. Where’s the Advil? Never mind that; where’s the Oxy? Let’s forget our record of failure at uplift, roll up our sleeves, and get on with it! After all, we’re Americans! And this time, we have experience to draw on, right, guys?

     Experience is supposed to teach. And it does: it tells you why you’ve just busted your skull... after you’ve busted it. But the test comes first; the lesson comes afterward. We’ve had the test several times. We’ve “busted our skull,” figuratively at least, on each occasion. Yet many have failed to absorb the lesson.

     Christian missionaries have strained to bring Christianity to the Dark Continent. Their successes were mostly in European colonies. When the colonial powers retreated, Christianity and its influence began a steady retreat. That wasn’t (and isn’t) because there was something lacking in those missionaries’ efforts, or in Christianity itself. It’s Africa itself: the African mentality in the African environment. Kim Du Toit’s essay, quoted above, delineates the matter too well, and too painfully, for an intelligent reader to miss it.

     Islam found a fallow field in Africa. It appeals to the savage mentality: conversion by the sword! If they won’t accept Allah, kill or enslave them! Scant wonder Islam is sweeping through the continent. Africa couldn’t be more suited to Islam if they’d been designed for each other.

     Continuous tribal warfare is equally well suited to Africa. It’s returned in force in every country where Europeans once ruled and have retreated. Only watchful, unrelenting, greatly superior power can keep the peace when the natives’ fondest wish is to slaughter one another. Well, yes: first they go after any whites that were foolish enough to remain. Then, the fun really begins!

     Islamic forces are rapidly expunging Christianity from Nigeria and any other parts of Africa where it’s hung on. The Enlightenment finds few fans among Africa's savage, bloody-minded natives. There’s one and only one cure:

     So here’s my (tongue-in-cheek) solution for the African fiasco: a high wall around the whole continent, all the guns and bombs in the world for everyone inside, and at the end, the last one alive should do us all a favor and kill himself.

     Kim may have intended that facetiously, but it’s no less true for that.

In Praise Of Ordinary Life

     Recently, I read the following from a supposedly sane and well-balanced young woman:

     “I want to marry the man who gets more excited about my birthday than I do.”
     “I want a man who plans little surprises to make my eyes light up.”
     “I want a man who never treats my joy as an inconvenience.”
     “I want a man who asks how my day is and actually waits for the answer.”
     “I want a man who celebrates my wins louder than anyone else.”
     “I want a man who is proud of me on the days I’m not proud of myself.”
     “I want a man who knows I like my coffee sweet.”
     “I want a man who warms up the car while I tie my shoes.”
     “I want a man who hears me talk about my dreams and then turns them into plans.”
     “I want a man who chooses ‘us’ even when life gets loud.”
     “I want a man who makes ordinary moments feel like magic.”

     That wish list drew a lot of negative commentary. Of course, wish lists are often impractical, but the impractical ones are usually materially oriented. This one demands a fantasy creature for a mate. But, as my favorite late-night TV philosopher has said, wait: there’s more.

     The fantasy mate is expected to deliver a fantasy existence as well.

     I can only speak for myself, but I’m unaware of anyone who enjoys a magical life. Even the very rich have fairly ordinary lives. Granted that they may do less housework than the rest of us. Even so they rise in the morning, spend their days dealing with the necessities of their lives, retire to bed in the evening, sleep through the night, and – if they’re really fortunate – rise the next day to do it again.

     And what on Earth is wrong with that?

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     Many may dream of a life filled with adventure, excitement, and reward:

     I didn't want to go back to school, win, lose, or draw. I no longer gave a damn about three-car garages and swimming pools, nor any other status symbol or "security." There was no security in this world and only damn fools and mice thought there could be.
     Somewhere back in the jungle I had shucked off all ambition of that sort. I had been shot at too many times and had lost interest in supermarkets and exurban subdivisions and tonight is the PTA supper don't forget dear you promised.
     Oh, I wasn't about to hole up in a monastery. I still wanted—
     What did I want?
     I wanted a Roc's egg. I wanted a harem loaded with lovely odalisques less than the dust beneath my chariot wheels, the rust that never stained my sword. I wanted raw red gold in nuggets the size of your fist and feed that lousy claim jumper to the huskies! I wanted to get up feeling brisk and go out and break some lances, Then pick a likely wench for my droit du seigneur—I wanted to stand up to the Baron and dare him to touch my wench! I wanted to hear the purple water chuckling against the skin of the Nancy Lee in the cool of the morning watch and not another sound, nor any movement save the slow tilling of the wings of the albatross that had been pacing us the last thousand miles.
     I wanted the hurtling moons of Barsoom. I wanted Storisende and Poictesme, and Holmes shaking me awake to tell me, "The game's afoot!" I wanted to float down the Mississippi on a raft and elude a mob in company with the Duke of Bilgewater and the Lost Dauphin.
     I wanted Prester John, and Excalibur held by a moon-white arm out of a silent lake. I wanted to sail with Ulysses and with Tros of Samothrace and eat the lotus in a land that seemed always afternoon. I wanted the feeling of romance and the sense of wonder I had known as a kid. I wanted the world to be what they had promised me it was going to be—instead of the tawdry, lousy, fouled-up mess it is.

     ...but such are dreams. Such are the inventions of professional fantasists. Were it otherwise, there’d be no market for fantasy.

     Nobody promises anyone such an existence. A good thing, too. It would be next to impossible to deliver on such a promise.

     Some soldiers sometimes have excitement-filled lives. For a few years, anyway. Ask them what it costs. Don’t forget to factor in those who paid the ultimate price.

     Ordinary American life, with all its compromises, frustrations, and vicissitudes, is the best bargain going.

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     The dreams of young women are often extravagant. The young – both sexes – are like that. But there’s a shortage of unmarried handsome princes just now. (Please don’t demand a government program to address the shortfall!) And even the handsomest princes usually come unequipped with magical powers.

     Time was, women – even young women – understood that. They aspired not to adventure, excitement, and the life of a fantasy princess, but to love, comfort, and security. They knew from the start that what they sought would demand work, prioritization of desires, and prudence in their choices. They thrilled to the “demon lovers” they found between the covers of gaudily decorated paperbacks, just as do contemporary American women – but they knew that between those covers was where they must remain.

     It appears that something has gone wrong with the upbringings of young American women. I haven’t raised any myself, so rather than discourse further on it, or prescribe a method for its remediation, I believe I’ll stop here.

Cadences

     Are there any former piano students among my Gentle Readers? Those of you who had to endure piano lessons in your youth will be familiar with a fiendish device called a metronome. That Satanic contrivance was supposed to teach us to respect the time signatures in the pieces we were learning. Get out of sync with the metronome’s peremptory beat and get rapped across the knuckles – usually those on your left hand – until you could catch up again.

     I grew to hate that device. I felt that it was holding me back. But then, I’ve always been in something of a hurry.

     The metronome’s beat was only the most obtrusive of the cadences we learned to respect. There were others that came more “naturally:” the rising and setting of the sun; the regularity of mealtimes; the start and end times of school, and later, of work; the schedule of TV shows; and so on. People have adapted to those cadences for centuries, and have seldom thought much about them. But just this morning one such cadence has been disturbed, which is the justification for this screed.

     When a habitual cadence “jitters,” such that one is briefly “out of step,” it can disturb other things as well. This morning I rose when my bedside clock said it was 4:00 AM. But upon rising I realized that today is “Fall-Back Sunday,” when the nation reverts from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time. Grumble; time to reset all the BLEEP!ing clocks built into all our BLEEP!ing digital devices. When will this madness end, anyway?

     But that’s just what got me thinking about this subject. What followed was a somewhat more unsettling question.

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     Which of the cadences by which our lives are structured are inescapable? Which are chosen by those who prefer them? And which are imposed upon us by forces we cannot hope to oppose?

     Most people allow their lives to be rhythmically structured. Some, personally disinclined to be ruled by any metronome, refuse to respect any beat. World Chess Champion Emanuel Lasker was like that: he declared himself unwilling to be “tyrannized by Time.” He ate and slept when he pleased, regardless of the hour. His disdain for all schedules caused him some grief during tournaments.

     We the Cadenced view such individuals as disturbances. Those such who are important to us seem to compel us to conform to their atemporal idiosyncrasies. That’s not really the case, of course, but the way our cadences bind us can distort our perspectives.

     Yet there are lessons to be learned from the clash between us who strive to keep to the beat and those who disregard it.

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     Today is All Souls Day, the third day of the All Saints Triduum. Today, Catholics pray for the relief of our departed who, at their passing from this life, were deemed to require purification in Purgatory before they can enter heaven. I have no idea what percentage of souls ultimately bound for heaven must suffer for a time in that “waiting area.” At a guess, it would be nearly everyone who dies without mortal sins on his soul. We are sinners, after all, and even those of us who manage to avoid (or expiate) all mortal sin probably die carrying some spiritual burden. Those who loved us in life are supposed to pray that our term in Purgatory will be short, for once we’re there, we cannot pray for ourselves.

     That’s only one of the reasons to cultivate the love and good will of others while we live, but if you’ll pardon the phrasing, it’s a damned good one.

     All Souls Day comes regularly on November 2 each year. That’s the Church’s decision rather than our own. It’s only a reminder, really. Why shouldn’t we pray for the release of our departed into heavenly bliss every day of the year? But of course, human memory is fallible. The living are compelled by so many “important” cadences that something discretionary like prayers for the souls of our departed loved ones can “fall off the back of the stove.”

     Even so, it’s something to ponder, and not just on November 2.

     I’ve lost people I’ve loved. I have so many things on my mind that even remembering my morning and evening prayers can be a struggle. So my departed loved ones often go “unserviced.” And every year on November 2, I’m reminded – painfully – that I’ve promised to pray for them yet have failed to do so all year long.

     Once again in this Year of Our Lord 2025, the cadence of the liturgical year has reminded me of that promise. And once again I’ve resolved to do better than in previous years. Perhaps this is the year I’ll finally make good on that resolution.

     Now if Congress would only put an end to this damned clock-shifting business! Please!