Martial Spirit And The Martial Virtues

     Just this morning I encountered this:

The United States has been at war 233 of its 250 years. That's 93% of its entire existences

In its 250 years it has invaded or bombed 70 countries that's more than 35% of the whole world.

There is no greater threat to world peace than the United States

— The Resonance (@Partisan_12) March 28, 2026

     …to which my friend Tom Kratman replied:

This idiotic meme pops up regularly among the insuperably ignorant, and incarnate idiotic.

Short version: No, in order to get this result you must count as war things more properly categorized as law enforcement and count as years any year in which any violent action, to include…

— Tom Kratman (@TKratman) March 28, 2026

     Take care not to miss this portion of the latter:

     That said, yes, we are warlike, [with] more martial spirit than, most likely, the rest of the planet combined. So tremble in your boots.

     From a practical standpoint, there’s value to be had in having the rest of Mankind fear us. Oderint dum metuant, as the Roman military class liked to say. If we must be hated, let those who hate us remember our martial spirit, and the extraordinary military power that looms within it. But it’s worth a few moments to linger over what tempers that spirit: the martial virtues, completely and properly understood.

* * *

     All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle…. All real men like to fight. – General George S. Patton

     Let’s skip over the “No true Scotsman” objections and ask instead whether there’s any truth to Patton’s characterization. Are “real Americans” that pro-combat? Do we really court war because we love to fight? Do we – or our politicians or generals – court war at all?

     Perhaps some professional soldiers like to fight. It validates their choice of career, at least when they win. But that eagerness to go to war isn’t uniform among the uniformed. Even among the eager ones, it’s tempered by an awareness of the costs of war.

     Sayings about why men willingly go to war are many. One of the more frequently encountered sentiments, at least among those who write about warfare, is that when the bullets are flying, you don’t fight for your country, or your cause, but for “your buddies:” the men next to you, armed as you are, endangered as you are endangered, and who fear as you fear. You recognize them as fragile human beings whose lives could end at any instant. And whether consciously or not, you hope they see you the same way.

     In the wars of the Nightmare Century, most of those who went to war did so under compulsion. Today that’s less often the case. Yet even in full awareness of the potential price, innumerable thousands still sign up. I’m friends with a young woman who did so less than a year ago, and who’s already overseas, serving in a “hot zone.”

     In his movie Jack Reacher, Tom Cruise playing the title character sums up the motivations involved:

     There are four types of people who join the military. For some, it's a family trade. Others are patriots, eager to serve. Next, you have those who just need a job. Then there's the kind who want a legal means of killing other people.

     In recent decades, owing to the end of conscription, the first two motivations greatly outnumber the third and fourth. But that doesn’t imply that those men actually hope to go into combat, as General Patton would have us believe.

* * *

     The first of the great martial virtues is this one:

Strike the necessary blow, but no other.

     Contemporary American forces excel at this. They practice remarkable restraint in the use of force. They’re scrupulous about not targeting noncombatants. They’re merciful in victory; an enemy who surrenders need not fear that he’ll be killed “as a lesson to others.” While American standards aren’t observed worldwide, they are nonetheless admired by the militaries of all nations.

     The second great virtue is conditioned by the first one:

Strike decisively.

     No farting around! Determine what you must do for a swift victory and do it without hesitation or encumbrance. No firing rounds into the air. No bombing because you like explosions. Locate the enemy force, close with it, and defeat it so thoroughly that it and its political masters know and admit that they’ve been defeated.

     Much of the agony of the Vietnam War arose from “farting around.” Military theorists of the era regarded that conflict as an opportunity to test their notions, most prominent among them the idea of “sending signals with force.” Communication with the enemy during wartime is mandatory, but it’s the job of diplomats and statesmen, not of soldiers whose lives are on the line. What fraction of America’s 56,000 Vietnam War dead would have lived had the “signals” nonsense been dismissed and our field commanders ordered to strike decisively?

     Third and last among the great martial virtues is this one:

Do not shy back from what’s necessary.

     This third virtue enfolds the other two. If war is necessary, go to war. If an objective must be taken, then pay the necessary price to take it. If a blow must be struck, strike it with all necessary force, speed, and resolve. That is courage; less is cowardice – and cowardice always costs more lives than courage.

     A head of state may be wrong about whether his nation must go to war. A strategist may be wrong about whether his chosen strategy fits the contest. A field commander may be wrong about whether a particular objective must be taken. Such things can seldom be known with certainty ahead of time. That’s why we must close ranks behind them, for to deny them our sincere support would endanger our nation and our men at arms. Yes, even should the aftermath prove our involvement misguided.

     That’s another of the lessons of Vietnam. Had our politicians marshaled their courage, ignored the carping from the Left and the media, and ordered our commanders to fight the war as it needed to be fought, the Viet Cong would have been eliminated and South Vietnam would have remained free of Communist dominance. Perhaps we should not have allowed ourselves to become involved in the first place. Opinions about that remain mixed. But once we were involved, our forces should have been allowed to fight the war to a decisive victory.

     All other martial virtues – strategic wisdom; tactical daring; courage in the trenches; magnanimity in victory and realism in defeat – are derived from the great virtues above.

* * *

     It all sounds so easy when an armchair blatherer like myself discourses on it. But if great virtue were easy, it wouldn’t be rare. That’s as close to tautology as a proposition can come.

     A nation’s military exists to support the decisions of its government with force. To be effective, it must embody the martial virtues. Ours does. Because it does, even those nations that have had to surrender to us know that we can be trusted – that there will be no looting, no deliberate infliction of humiliation, no destruction for destruction’s sake, no interval for American forces to “rape, pillage, and burn.” What other nation could say the same?

     May God bless our fighting men and these United States of America.

Once In A Great While…

     …an entertainer does something that’s worth celebrating:

     Stand-up comedian Mark Normand believes in making fun of everyone, equally.
     When asked about his latest Netflix special, Normand said he wanted to be "inclusive," meaning he wanted to make fun of people from all walks of life.

     And he meant it, Gentle Reader. He included a joke about Muslims in his plan for a recent cable comedy special. One of the “platforms” on which his special is to appear was upset:

     "They go, 'Yeah, we got some bad news there. We reviewed the special again. We'd like to take out the Muslim joke.'"
     Normand explained that staff told him that the last time "a comic did a Muslim joke," they got bomb and death threats. But the 42-year-old said he refused to take it out.

     They argued back and forth. Normand broke the deadlock with a bargain:

     "OK. I don't love it, but OK. I will take it off on one condition," he recalled saying. Normand then said he told those on the call that he would only approve the social media plan if they admitted Muslims are dangerous.
     "I want you to admit on this call that they're a dangerous people. And they were like, 'What? No. What, are you crazy?' And I'm like, 'You got to admit it, or I'm keeping it, or I'm posting it.'"

     The resistance continued. The executives were apparently terrified of allowing the joke… and equally terrified of admitting why they were terrified. Could it possibly get any better?

     Normand won the throw-down:

     "You can say, 'Hey, I love this group.' But then you don't live near them. You know, we're all talk. We're all signaling. We're all virtuous, but you don't actually act that way."
     "So they admitted it," Normand said to his surprise; and while he did reveal he was "half joking" when he made his request, the comedian had a good time getting "a group of HR homos" to say, "All right, they're dangerous. We'll see you later," before hanging up the phone.

     How could anyone not be put in mind of this famous passage from Atlas Shrugged:

     "Mr. Rearden," he had said once, "if you feel you'd like to hand out more of the Metal to friends of yours—I mean, in bigger hauls—it could be arranged, you know. Why don't we apply for a special permission on the ground of essential need? I've got a few friends in Washington. Your friends are pretty important people, big businessmen, so it wouldn't be difficult to get away with the essential need dodge. Of course, there would be a few expenses. For things in Washington, You know how it is, things always occasion expenses."
     "What things?"
     "You understand what I mean."
     "No," Rearden had said, "I don't. Why don't you explain it to me?"
     The boy had looked at him uncertainly, weighed it in his mind, then come out with: "It's bad psychology."
     "What is?"
     "You know, Mr. Rearden, it's not necessary to use such words as that."
     "As what?"
     "Words are relative. They're only symbols. If we don't use ugly symbols, we won't have any ugliness. Why do you want me to say things one way, when I've already said them another?"
     "Which way do I want you to say them?"
     "Why do you want me to?"
     "For the same reason that you don't."

     Rand’s focus was primarily economic. She, who wrote at a time when the U.S. was still overwhelmingly European and Christian, would not have foreseen the tensions of today. But her novel’s various conflicts over production and trade are as applicable to today’s racial and creedal tensions as they were to the proto-fascist conditions of the postwar years.

     You cannot dispel a terror by refusing to speak of it.

A Political Fantasy For A Sunny Spring Morning

     [As I’m rather tired today, have a bit of whimsy that I posted at the old Eternity Road site on October 8, 2011. The ideas in it still tickle me – FWP]

* * *

     As one who writes frequently on political topics, I am of course given to the occasional bout of daydreaming, as in: If Fran Porretto were given the privilege of completely rewriting the American political system, how would it look?

     Most such daydreams should not be published at a family-friendly website, as they involve far too much rope and far too many lampposts. But now and then, an idea spools itself out that might...just...work...

     Much of our current trouble stems from the severe diminution of the sense of responsibility, at every level of our political structure. It's gotten worse as Washington has sucked all power and authority upward, out of the states and lesser political units, thus increasing the distance between the supposedly sovereign citizen and those who make the laws and dispose of his tax money. Representative governance, where the representatives and executives are chosen by popular vote, cannot be completely shorn of that tendency. However, it can be mitigated by reinforcing those aspects of the system that conserve responsibility and removing or weakening those aspects that reduce responsibility.

FWP's New Order Of The Ages:

     Start from the Constitution of the United States, as it stands, but with the following revisions:

     Have the Electoral College choose the president and vice-president directly, without reference to anyone's nominees. That process gave us six genuinely great chief executives in a row. It would also put a stake through the heart of the political parties, which have deserved to die for a long time now.

     Have each state legislature choose the state's Electoral College delegates, without regard to any popular vote or other criterion but the legislators' own judgment. That puts the state legislators on the spot, directly responsible for the quality of the men who assume the powers of the presidency, and gives those who choose the legislators themselves increased incentive to choose them wisely and watch them closely.

     Along with this reversion of power to the state legislatures, let's have them elect our federal legislators as well. Perhaps Congress could serve as the Electoral College; I can't see why it wouldn't, since the power to determine the president in the event of a deadlocked election rests with Congress anyway.

     But who should elect the states' legislators? Why, the counties' legislatures, of course! ("Boroughs" in Alaska; "parishes" in Louisiana.) Each county should send assemblymen to its state's assembly in proportion to the county's population, plus one state senator per county. As with the choice of electors, there should be no dependency on a popular vote or other expression of "popular sentiment."

     As for who should elect the county legislators, at this point we're close enough to the citizenry that popular elections become thinkable. America is a land of 3143 counties, which works out to about 100,000 persons per county on average. Of those 100,000, perhaps 30,000 will be qualified to vote; we'll get to the qualifications in a moment. The combinatorics of a population of that size suggest that a voter will be no more than three or four "handshakes" from direct acquaintance with a candidate. Thus, voters can be reasonably expected to learn enough about those who seek seats in the county legislature to make informed choices among them, and to be responsible for the consequences. If we blow it, we'll have no one to blame but ourselves.

     Now, the qualifications for voting for the county legislature:

1. Each voter shall be 21 years of age or older;
2. He shall have performed a minimum of two years' active service in the county police, or the state militia, or any branch of the nation's armed forces;
3. He shall reside in and own real property within the county;
4. He must not be currently incarcerated for a felony or misdemeanor.

     (Though I doubt there are any, feminist harridans in the audience should read all uses of "he" as "he or she." I have too much regard for the English language to pollute my prose with the "politically correct" but grammatically execrable forms they prefer.)

     Qualification #1 ensures a minimum degree of maturity. Qualification #2 ensures that the voter has demonstrated his concern for the commonweal by direct service to its defenses. Qualification #3 gives the voter an enduring stake in how the county is governed. Qualification #4 prevents those who have an interest in violating the law from having any opportunity to suborn it. And (hopefully) needless to say, no one shall be permitted to stand for election to the county legislature who is not also qualified to vote for it.

     But of course, along with these entirely sensible restrictions on the power of the franchise, there must be correlated restrictions on the power of the legislatures, to wit:

1. All occupants of public offices, without exception, shall be subject to recall. A majority vote of the lower house of the legislature responsible for the election of an official shall constitute a nonprejudicial removal of that official from his office. (Nonprejudicial means he may contend for that office in the future, if he chooses to do so.) In the case of county legislators, a majority vote of the county's enfranchised residents shall constitute a recall of the county legislator at issue.
2. No legislature may impose taxes on any political unit except the ones directly below it. Thus, Congress may tax the state governments, and no one else; the state governments may tax the county governments, and no one else; and the county governments may directly tax the citizenry.
3. Laws, Acts, and Bills of Appropriation shall be proposed in the lower house of a legislature only. The upper house may ratify them or vote them down, but it shall possess no power to amend them.
4. Either house of a legislature, by a two-thirds majority, may repeal any Law, Act, or Bill of Appropriation previously passed by that legislature, with no requirement for concurrence by the other house.
5. No legislature shall be permitted to delegate lawmaking or regulatory power to any other body, whether elected or appointed; all laws and regulations binding on anyone shall be debated and voted on by the appropriate legislature in open session, in all their particulars.
6. There shall be harsh statutory penalties, written explicitly into the Constitution of the United States and the subsidiary charters of the states and counties, for legislators and executives who propose, vote, or act to violate the explicit terms of the Constitution or any subsidiary charter to which they have sworn fidelity.
7. A Bill of Particulars, filed by a member of the legislature responsible for the election of an official, if approved by a majority vote of the lower house of that legislature, shall impeach the official so accused and compel him to stand trial before the upper house of that legislature. A two-thirds majority of the upper house shall be sufficient for removal from office; a three-fourths majority shall be required for the imposition of the relevant criminal penalties. No person removed from office under this procedure shall henceforth be eligible for any office of public trust, at any level.

     Now you're looking at real federalism. Let's have some opinions!

Regaining Peace

     Have a little something to pin your outrage meter:

This young black girl attacked, then k*IIed a McDonald's employee over the employee accidentally putting onions on her burger.

A person lost their lives because this savage animal couldn’t communicate that she didn’t want onions on a burger. pic.twitter.com/HacaG4whp0

— Liberacrat™️ (@ViralVideos) March 23, 2026

     Murder over onions! We’ve reached a new nadir in social relations. I’ve no idea of the race of the victim, but does that really matter?

     It’s not possible for anyone to concoct a defense of such behavior. But of course, the ever-vociferous defenders of black savagery will try to defend it anyway. Probably with something about “the N-word.”

     The apologists for “chimping out” behavior have a slightly easier time:

This is absolute hell on earth.

- No social decorum
- Loud
- Violent
- No respect for authority
- Incompatible with civilized society

I completely understand segregation now and why Americans didn’t want it to end.

Someone should run on it. It would have my vote.

You? pic.twitter.com/wTSzuWpdQs

— Amiri King (@AmiriKing) March 24, 2026

     “It’s just high spirits.” “They were celebrating.” “Nobody got hurt.” And of course, “It’s racist to criticize it.” But what if the crowd of revelers were White and the critic were black? Then we would be told this:

“Black women CANNOT BE RACIST to white women…are you kidding me?”

Ummmm….anyone wanna tell her? pic.twitter.com/p04FVdWtK5

— Ashley (TeamTrump47) (@TeamTrump47) March 23, 2026

     I have acquaintances who struggle over these things. They’re desperate to believe that it’s not a racial difference. The racial correlation must be explained away. But how? The usual fallback is “culture:”

We can't even have nice hotels anymore.

Shalonda and Shakeesha assault a police officer after he tries to break up a hotel squabble between 7 or 8 reprobates.

How do we fix this violent culture? pic.twitter.com/pS282rgTZ6

— Shane (@shane7777ssss) March 23, 2026

     He who asks “But aren’t we all immersed in the same culture?” will usually be dismissed with the usual denunciation (“Racist!”). That’s just the way it goes, these days.

     Smart Whites are done with trying to civilize the uncivil. We’re also done with excuses like “systemic racism” and “the legacy of slavery.” Now all we hope for is peace.

* * *

     How do American Whites get peace when our environment is permeated by savages? I suppose we could exterminate them, but that’s a distasteful prospect. All that rotting flesh… no, there must be an alternative.

     Time was, the prescription was segregation. They have their part of town and we have ours; they have their businesses and we have ours; they have their institutions and accommodations, and we have ours. It worked reasonably well. Yes, there were still occasional violent incidents and spells of “acting up.” But judged by the standard of peace, it was preferable to what we endure today.

     Legally, bringing it back would be next to impossible. Practically, the degree of interpenetration of the races makes it a challenge. Yet it’s already happening. New, all-White enclaves are being formed, often by older Whites and usually in less populated areas. Many of them, though not all, are also all-Christian.

     When blacks attempt to move into such an enclave, they soon find that it’s not possible. No one will sell or rent to them. Cries of “racism!” change nothing, for the residents are all private persons who cannot be compelled to sell. No cooperative complex or homeowners’ association was ever more stringent in its admissions policy.

     There are problems, of course. Municipal police, regulators, and zoning boards are hostile to such communities. Ambitious politicians use them as whipping boys when “on the stump.” They’re sometimes targeted by black racial activists. Yet they remain attractive for what they offer: peace and public order.

     Niven and Pournelle’s Oath of Fealty offered a vision of such a community, albeit without racial segregation. While their depiction had many virtues, a single-race arcology of that sort would undoubtedly be targeted for abortion while in its planning stage. It would need too many approvals from too many local and regional authorities.

     And as I write this, I find myself looking toward the sky. Toward Luna and beyond.

* * *

     Please don’t think too harshly of me, Gentle Reader. I’m old. The old are more desirous of peace than the young. I sense that many other older Whites feel the same as do I. It’s very hard for us to get peace in any quantity, these days.

     To any younger readers: please imagine a state of society in which older Whites who’ve “made their piles” elect to relocate to some airless planetoid rather than endure the Sturm und Drang of our ever more violent and disorderly Earthside environment. Think about what it would signify that we would rather render ourselves inaccessible to you – and you inaccessible to us, of course – than remain exposed to race-based crime and chaos. Are you really so sure that “solidarity” with “our black brothers” is worth losing touch with us? Think of how hard it is to find a babysitter these days. (Never mind what they charge.)

     That’s all. I’m tapped out for the present. Do have a nice day.

Demonstrator

     [A short story for you today. As it’s Passion Sunday, on which Catholics read from the Gospel of John about Jesus’s final miracle before He went to Jerusalem, I thought a related tale might be appropriate.
     This story first appeared at the V2.0 site, now defunct, on March 26, 2023 – FWP.]

***

     The last of his perceptions dimmed and winked out. He found himself without sensation of any sort, not even that of his own weight. Though his eyes were open, they saw nothing. His ears registered no slightest sound. His senses of smell, taste, and touch were equally idle. It gave him a eerie sense of displacement, as if he were floating in an ocean that had no water. Yet not even the gentle motions of such a body, stirred by sun, wind, and tide, could he feel.
     But he remained aware. The thought stream that had bedeviled him continued unbroken.
     What place is this?
     Am I not to face judgment?
     He could still detect the passage of time. What meaning has time, in the complete absence of sensations, material things, and the events that accompany them? How would one measure it?
     Yet he had not ended. He persisted. The sequence of his thoughts continued, unbroken by death.
     Therefore there is more.
     I will wait. What else I can do, after all?
     A soundless reply, words without volume or timbre, arrived in his consciousness.
     Reflect.
     It startled him, jolted him into a new plane of consciousness.
     Is it You, my God?
     Again the reply was undeniable, though it transcended perception.
     I am what I am.
     It stilled him, turned his thoughts back upon themselves.
     To persist is to have significance. I have a destiny to fulfill. Yet afloat in this void, I have no way to seek it out or embark upon it. What, then?
     The reply was the same.
     Reflect.
     He did so.
     I cannot act. Yet I persist. Therefore, I am to be acted upon. But how?
     No answer came to him.
     Could this be punishment for my sins? Helplessness as the penalty for squandering my life? But did I truly squander it? I worked. I prayed. I did my best for my loved ones. Surely those were not sins.
     Still nothing.
     Perhaps I do not understand sin.
     He examined the course of his life, straining to remember its details down to the smallest minutiae. He found a few peccadillos, but nothing against the Commandments or what they implied. He slowly became convinced that, in that timeless place where his thoughts continued to flow, he did indeed await a destiny yet to be fulfilled…but that his future lay in the hands of another.
     I am to be used.
     The idea might have brought resentment, but it did not.
     If I can be used, then despite my death I have worth. It will not be my own deeds that fulfill that destiny, but the deeds of another.
     With that thought there came a mighty roaring. Insubstantial forces seized and held him. Power unfathomed by men had massed around him and taken him up for use. His ponderings ceased and were replaced by an ecstatic peace.
     Let all be as it must be.
     He sensed rather than heard the words of his liberation spoken.
     LAZARUS, COME FORTH!
     And it was so.

#

     “Did you sleep, brother?” Martha said.
     He shook his head. “I rested, but I was aware. How long…?”
     Her face spasmed. “Four days.”
     “It did not seem so.”
     “We feared that he might fail,” she said. “That you would be lost to us.”
     He shook his head. “He has never failed, sister.”
     “Did you…expect it?”
     “Not at all. I knew only that…something awaited. That I had an unfulfilled destiny, but that it was not mine to initiate it.” He smiled. “I realized that I would be used for a task of which I was not capable.”
     “And it was so,” Martha said. “Many came to believe today. Many who had been skeptical even knowing of his other deeds.”
     Lazarus nodded. “I among them.” His heart filled afresh with joy and peace. “What an honor, to be used thus!”
     Martha bowed her head.

==<O>==

     Copyright © 2023 Francis W. Porretto. All rights reserved worldwide.

***

     May God bless and keep you all.

Rest In Peace, Chuck Norris

     I can’t quite believe it. Chuck Norris, the martial arts legend and hero to millions, has lost a match – to the Grim Reaper! Incredible. The man was still in fighting trim in his eighties. No black-cloaked buffoon toting a scythe should have stood a chance against him.

     But there it is. Norris passed away at the age of 86 from an undisclosed sudden illness. The world is a sadder place for his departure from it.

     Let us enumerate some of his many achievements in remembrance:

• Death once had a near-Chuck-Norris experience.
• Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
• Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Chuck Norris.
• When the Boogeyman goes to bed, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
• Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door.
• Chuck Norris doesn't sleep. He waits.
• Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.
• Chuck Norris counted to infinity—twice.
• When Chuck Norris does push-ups, he isn't lifting himself up—he's pushing the Earth down.
• Chuck Norris can divide by zero.
• Chuck Norris can hear sign language.
• Chuck Norris doesn't wear a watch. He decides what time it is.
• When Chuck Norris enters a room, he doesn't turn the lights on—he turns the dark off.
• The flu gets a Chuck Norris shot every year.
• Chuck Norris can build a snowman out of rain.
• Chuck Norris doesn't dial the wrong number. You pick up the wrong phone.
• Chuck Norris has a grizzly bear carpet in his room. The bear isn't dead—it's just afraid to move.
• Chuck Norris' cowboy boots are made from real cowboys.
• Fear of spiders is called arachnophobia. Fear of Chuck Norris is called logic.
• Chuck Norris once kicked a horse in the chin. Its descendants are now known as giraffes.
• Chuck Norris can cook minute rice in 30 seconds.
• There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures Chuck Norris allows to live.
• Chuck Norris can do a wheelie on a unicycle.
• Chuck Norris doesn't play hide and seek. He plays hide and pray I don't find you.
• Chuck Norris can kill two stones with one bird.
• Chuck Norris can speak Braille.
• Chuck Norris can make a Happy Meal cry.
• Aliens are real. They're just afraid to come to Earth because Chuck Norris lives here.
• Chuck Norris can strangle you with a cordless phone.
• Chuck Norris can win a staring contest with his eyes closed.
• Chuck Norris' roundhouse kick is so powerful it can be seen from space by the naked eye.
• Chuck Norris once won a game of Connect Four in three moves.
• Chuck Norris can unscramble an egg.
• Chuck Norris can drown a fish.
• Chuck Norris can delete the Recycle Bin.
• Chuck Norris can clap with one hand.
• Chuck Norris can make onions cry.
• Chuck Norris doesn't age—he levels up.
• Chuck Norris can win at solitaire with real cards.
• Chuck Norris' calendar goes straight from March 31st to April 2nd. No one fools Chuck Norris.
• Chuck Norris can start a fire with an ice cube.
• Chuck Norris doesn't do refunds. You do.
• Chuck Norris can microwave popcorn by staring at it.
• Chuck Norris can sneeze with his eyes open.
• Chuck Norris doesn't vacuum. He scares the dirt away.
• Chuck Norris can hear sign language over the phone.
• Chuck Norris doesn't spell-check. Words conform to him.
• Chuck Norris can cut through a hot knife with butter.
• Chuck Norris can parallel park in two moves.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need a GPS. Locations report to him.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need sleep—he recharges by staring at the sun.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need food. Food needs Chuck Norris.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need a belt. Gravity submits to him.
• Chuck Norris can make a campfire with wet wood and attitude.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need a parachute. Gravity is afraid to pull him down.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need Wi-Fi. The internet connects to him.
• Chuck Norris can solve a Rubik's Cube by staring at it.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need a map. Maps need Chuck Norris.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need oxygen. Oxygen needs Chuck Norris.
• Chuck Norris can make a mime talk.
• Chuck Norris can make a ghost haunt itself.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need a mirror. Mirrors reflect what he allows.
• Chuck Norris can make lightning ask for permission.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need a shadow. Shadows follow him.
• Chuck Norris doesn't need luck. Luck needs Chuck Norris.
• Chuck Norris can roundhouse kick the future into the past.
• Chuck Norris doesn't tell jokes. Jokes tell Chuck Norris.
• Chuck Norris doesn't cheat death. He wins fair and square.

     Chuck, you’re already being missed. Rest in Peace, old warrior.

Creating Your Own Problems

     Good morning, Gentle Reader. Happy Vernal Equinox (traditional). Wherever you are in this blessed land, I hope you’ll enjoy beautiful spring weather today, because I won’t. Here on the World’s Largest Piece of Terminal Moraine, it’s predicted to be overcast and damp all day. Bummer.

     I’ve come reluctantly to the conclusion that, with the notable exception of the Gentle Readers of Liberty’s Torch, people are pretty BLEEP!ing stupid. They’re nearly always the source of their own miseries. They overspend and then complain about being broke. They cloister themselves and then complain about having no friends or social life. They try to drive North-South on East-West roads, get smacked up, and then complain about “careless drivers” and high insurance premiums.

     The enveloping diagnosis for this malady is “It’s Someone Else’s Fault” syndrome. Given its prevalence, I have no doubt that you’ve observed it in someone you know. There’ve been days when I’ve imagined it everywhere.

     That may be because it really is everywhere.

* * *

     A brief vignette: Many years ago I had a coworker whom I shall henceforward refer to as “old Ray,” because that’s how he was known around the office. “Old Ray” couldn’t be bothered about things the rest of us regarded as the basic requirements of courtesy, such as tossing trash in a trash can rather than on the floor. He was a well-respected senior engineer, but so heedless of his surroundings that he created chaos for the rest of us.

     In particular, “old Ray” regularly failed to check whether the coffeemaker had ended its cycle before grabbing the carafe and filling his mug. He created many messes in this fashion. I, being a snotty little shit, upbraided him for it one day when his proclivity had left a large puddle of coffee on the floor of our office. He took umbrage, and a shouting match ensued. Management intervened before blows could be struck.

     I was taken aside and admonished for the incident. I’d “created the problem,” you see. “Everyone” knew that we had to make allowances for “old Ray.” I asked whether management was aware of the effect on the rest of us, and was answered with a “what can you do” shrug. I went back to my own labors shaking my head.

     It got me a reputation as a boat rocker. “Be careful around Fran,” the office gospel ran, “He says things.” Never mind that I was also the one who “does things,” such as solving others’ intractable problems and cleaning up after “old Ray;” that was deemed immaterial.

     I realized then that the rest of us were fated to clean up after “old Ray” until his retirement date should arrive. Management policy had deemed the status quo preferable to an uproar. Given that consensus, I, who’d evoked an uproar, was “the problem.” We’d been doomed to trash tossed aside in hallways and regular puddles on the floor.

     No, I didn’t stay there very long.

* * *

     Why am I exercised about this particular subject, you ask? Because few have grasped a simple fact of life in society:

Politics is not the source of solutions,
But of burdens, dissatisfactions, and disharmony.

     A private problem can be mitigated or solved by private means. A politicized problem becomes everyone’s problem. It draws the State into the matter and compels everyone to “take a side.” Such an expansion of the scope of the problem creates several things:

• Resentment among the unwillingly involved;
• Hard feelings between those who disagree about the matter;
• An opportunity for the State to expand its powers, which it will surely exploit.

     As if further irony were required, it also lessens the feeling of responsibility among those who did the politicizing. Now that it’s “everyone’s problem,” they can sit back while “everybody” – meaning the State, of course – does whatever will be done about it, good, bad, or indifferent.

     It’s madness, but it’s everywhere. “The personal is political!” shout the rabble-rousers of the Left. That means the end of privacy – the end of private action in response to private problems. It means that we must wait upon the State for the remediation of what displeases us. Finally, it means those who disapprove of you, whatever the reason, can bludgeon you into complying with their preferences. Assuming they can assemble a local preponderance of force, that is.

     I’m not going to thrash this into the magma layer. I just needed a moment to vent about… well, about “things as they are,” including ordinary people’s lack of resistance to the politicization of what should be private matters handled privately. We keep getting sucked into it, when a moment’s consideration should make it plain that politicizing an “issue” nearly always makes it worse.

     For the love of God, stop politicizing petty shit! Stop trying to compel others to conform to your preferences! Accept human variation as long as it does you no harm. If you find it intolerable, either wall it off, or move away from it and build a wall around yourself.

     See also this old tirade. And do have a nice day.

The Last Bastion

     There are days when I oscillate between black despair and a degree of fury so murderous that I can only thank God that I’m too old and frail to act on it. Today is one such day.

     Get a load of this:

     THE FACE OF EVIL.
     This is Alice Mann. She's responsible for the bill a senate committee passed yesterday that would MANDATE MMR vaccination for All kids in MN.
     No exceptions. Even for homeschool.
     This is Effectively saying: vaccination or jail.
     This woman wants to strap down children & inject them w/severely undertested, Big Pharma GMO concoctions directly into their veins...whether parents agree or not.
     That's evil. An authoritarian overreach & body violation so severe, it should make any human being shudder with disgust.
     It goes against the very thing America stands for & holds dear: Freedom.
     Pro tip: If you want people to vaccinate...make your product safer, test it properly, & educate us on why we should do it.
     Do not force it. You evil, evil woman.
     Personally, I don't trust Big Pharma & won't poison my kids. Especially for a natural infection w/a ~100% survival rate, & can be managed naturally.
     So anyway. Anyone know a good state to move to? (I live in MN 😭)

     Minnesota – its legislature, at least – has decided that the Fourth Amendment doesn’t apply to its juvenile residents. Granted that a state that could elect a mannequin like Tim Walz Governor has a collective screw loose, this still goes beyond anything I’ve seen from the Land of 10,000 Lakes to date.

     It might pass legal muster, albeit barely, were this requirement to be applied solely to children enrolled in a “public” school. But to make it unconditional and sweeping is a defiance of the Fourth Amendment’s guarantee of bodily autonomy.

     I’ve ranted before about the power of small groups with narrowly focused agendas. It’s old news; I shan’t do so again this morning. But a passing mention of the incredible power they can wield would not be out of place. The medical-products community is such a group. Apparently the reaction against the mandatory application of vaccines, brought on by the insanity of the COVID-19 debacle, has provoked vaccine vendors to a counterattack. Minnesota, its government having already gone fully anti-individual rights, was a well-chosen entry point.

     Blue-state legislatures throughout America will note this and emulate it – not because of the horror of mumps and rubella or unbounded faith in vaccines, but because bodily privacy is the last bastion of individual rights. If an individual’s physical corpus is not his own, with the right of arbitrary and absolute exclusion that accompanies the right of property, then nothing can be one’s own. Force becomes the sole standard.

     I have no doubt that those who favor this execrable measure will defend it on the grounds of “precedent” and “public health.” But that merely strengthens the indictment of the concept of “public health.” What is it? On what grounds have “medical authorities” been granted an enforceable easement into our children’s bodies? And if it can be defended in the case of school-age children, how would it not apply to all of us, from the cradle to the grave?

     I can feel myself about to start frothing at the mouth, so I’ll close now. Have a nice day.