Sunday, October 11, 2026

Day Off

     Good morning, Gentle Reader. It being Sunday, I went to Mass as I usually do, came home at about 8:30 AM as I usually do, sat down at this furshlugginer machine to write a piece for this dive as I usually do… and fell asleep at the keyboard. (I usually don’t.) I woke up a few minutes ago.

     It seems I don’t have anything on my mind that’s energizing enough to keep me awake long enough to write it. So I’m going to beg your indulgence and declare a day off. Enjoy your Columbus Day (traditional) and check back for fresh drivel tomorrow. Be well.

Saturday, October 10, 2026

The Infinitely Renewable Resource

     Unless you resolve on a subsistence existence – find your own food, make your own clothes, et cetera — you must sell something to others. That, of course, requires you to make or find something to sell that others will pay you for. And so begins the division of labor economy. That encourages each of us, by the efficiencies available from specialization, to adopt a particular occupation and get good at it.

     Some decide to become pure salesmen: i.e., to produce nothing by their own labors, but to specialize in selling goods and services from some other source. In the usual case, that other source is other people or organizations. But an unusual case is on my mind this morning. It unites salesmen who would otherwise appear to be unrelated.

     Those salesmen sell hope.

* * *

     Hope is a peculiar good. The hope salesman doesn’t mine, harvest, or manufacture hope; he evokes it from within his customer. He does this by offering some less abstract good or service that the customer hopes will bring him nearer to some cherished goal. Sometimes that good or service is objectively real, even tangible, but evoking and strengthening the customer’s hope is the point of the matter.

     People hope for many things: love; sex; companionship; money; acceptance into specific groups; recognition of their excellences; propagation of their ideas. That list could be extended, but the point has been made. If a salesman can get you to believe that your specific hopes will draw nearer to achievement by purchasing what he’s selling, he’s got a hook in you.

     An honest salesman will hang in there with you for a long spell. He’ll try to show you how to use his nominal product to get closer to what you hope for. He’ll watch how you do it, and comment constructively on any missteps he recognizes. And should there come a point when it’s plain that you aren’t likely to get what you hope for in the foreseeable future, he’ll mourn with you.

     However, he’s unlikely to offer you a refund. Word of that could get around. The hope salesman can’t afford that.

     Of course, there are dishonest hope salesmen as well. We call them con men, charlatans, gamesters, snake-oil salesmen, or something even less appealing. They know perfectly well that what they’re selling will do nothing positive for you. It might even make you ill.

     Persons in certain fields are heavily beset by such salesmen.

* * *

     Since the customer is the true source of hope, it will be in plentiful supply for as long as there are people who want something. Paradoxically, that “oversupply” appears to have no depressing effect on hope’s price. Economic wisdom fails to apply to hope.

     Roger Zelazny once wrote a short story, “But Not The Herald,” around the theme that the Hope that lay at the bottom of Pandora’s box was the true scourge of Mankind. Now and then I find myself thinking he just might have been right about that.

     Anyway, if you’ve been wondering why this topic today, it’s because of a collection I’ve been amassing. Among my various categories of incoming email is a folder titled “The Promoter Scam.” Those emails came from persons who claim expertise at promoting books: an expertise they generously offered to put at my service. This morning, the number of entries in it passed 1000.

     “The Promoter Scam” has about 100 subfolders. Each is dedicated to the emails of a particularly persistent promoter: one who has importuned me three or more times. Persistence is sometimes an asset, though it hasn’t served the persons whose emails fill those subfolders.

     Yes, Gentle Reader: one of those promoters did “get me.” I may be a Certified Galactic Intellect, but I’m as susceptible to hope as anyone. It was a costly lesson, but it served to inoculate this foolish old man against foolish hopes.

     If you’re an indie writer, please consider this your warning: those promoters are trying to sell you your own hope. If you’re a friend or relative of an indie writer, you might want to pass this essay along to him. If you do so before he bites some promoter’s hook, you could save him money and disappointment. As for me, I write as a public service. There’s no money in it, anyway.

Friday, October 9, 2026

Spectacles

     I suppose it’s a matter of taste. Some like Chopin, others like hip-hop. Some like William Faulkner; others like Dan Brown. Some like weddings; others like…

     Executions? Really?

     Apparently so.

* * *

     If you haven’t yet read the news – lucky you – you may not be aware that the execution of Fort Hood mass murderer Nidal Malik Hasan is to be “livestreamed.” Some are aghast; others are cheering. Some feel it’s offensive; others… no, let’s not do that again. The general attitude, as is so often the case today, is “whatever floats your boat.”

     There are serious thinkers who hold that publicly executing the worst of our criminals is edifying to the general public. Not only do they see that justice has really, truly been done; they’re reminded of the possible consequences of a heinous action. And it is inarguable that murder contributes to a degradation of the proprieties. To that effect we have the words of Thomas de Quincey:

     If once a man indulges himself in murder, very soon he comes to think little of robbing; and from robbing he comes next to drinking and Sabbath-breaking, and from that to incivility and procrastination. Once begun upon this downward path, you never know where you are to stop. Many a man has dated his ruin from some murder or other that perhaps he thought little of at the time.

     And let that be the last drop of humor I drip onto this subject.

     So the public is invited to watch the snuffing of Nidal Hasan on December 3 of this year. As Hasan was a major in the U.S. Army, he will face a firing squad. It’s possible that millions will witness the event.

     At least no one will be “tailgating” it.

* * *

     Executions were once routinely public. Hangings, the “preferred” method of execution in the 19th Century, were held in the open air and often heavily attended. That became less common as the century dwindled. The last public hanging in the United States took place in 1936.

     Executions are still witnessed, of course. Regardless of the method employed, a few dozen people are always present to watch the termination of the condemned man’s life. As grisly as the notion seems, there are sound reasons for it, including transparency and the maintenance of legal standards.

     But I wouldn’t care to see such a thing. I don’t grasp why anyone would, except out of a desire for vengeance. We cannot create a human life; the desire to see one ended by human artifice strikes me as a kind of hubris. Which is not to say that some criminals don’t deserve to be put to death.

     Respect for human life, even the life in the body of a total villain, seems to me to trump any considerations of “closure” or “public edification.” If a man must die, let him be put to death, but why make a spectacle of it? The desire to see such a thing speaks to something unworthy lurking in one’s heart.

     Of course, there are people who delight in seeing others suffer. Perhaps they hope that the procedure will be botched, as was the case recently in Tennessee’s attempted execution of Christa Pike. There were a number of botched electrocutions before that method was abandoned. No doubt some of the onlookers were gratified to see the switch thrown over and over.

     I simply don’t grasp it. Does that mean I’m soft? Over-civilized, as they say?

* * *

     I stand between opposed poles. Despite the teaching of my Church, I agree that there are persons whose conduct merits a speedy dispatch from this life, and who should receive exactly that. But to make a spectacle of it for others’ entertainment? No, that I can’t condone.

     If we must kill for any reason, I’d prefer that we be squeamish about it. Let it be done privately, albeit with the appropriate representatives of the justice system for witnesses. Let it be sanitary and as painless as it can be made. It’s quite possible that there are better ways of sending a condemned man to his final reward than the methods used today. But I can’t see inviting millions of people, the great majority of whom are completely uninvolved with the criminal and his deeds, to watch it done.

Thursday, October 8, 2026

Predictions Old And New

     I think I’ve mentioned here, or perhaps at Eternity Road of loving memory, that I was once deeply immersed in international strategic analysis. That immersion arose from my studies in physics. Once I became aware of the immense power available from nuclear technology, and the ways in which it could be put to destructive purposes, I had to get a sense for the possibilities.

     That began, roughly, in 1966, when I happened upon a peculiar book in my high school’s library. It wasn’t the sort of book one would expect to see in a high school library, but there it was. Having found it, I simply had to read it.

     The book was Herman Kahn’s magnum opus On Thermonuclear War.

     Pretty strange fodder for a fourteen-year-old kid, eh? Even my father thought I’d spend my time better by improving my screwball and chasing girls. But I felt a need to understand Kahn’s analysis of that most horrifying of subjects. After all, we were doing regular “duck and cover” drills back then. People still built backyard bomb shelters. “Civil defense” was a lively subject even at town hall. So I read Kahn’s book carefully and thought hard about its implications.

     I was aware that many things people argue about have no relation to any real danger or opportunity. But I knew about the tensions in Europe, the NATO / Warsaw Pact face-off, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Nuclear Test Ban treaty, and (of course) the “space race.” I knew about America’s steadily increasing expenditures on strategic weaponry. I kept abreast of the angry rhetoric that emanated regularly from the USSR. The matter was serious enough to deserve attention and study.

     Strange things were being said in classrooms, too. The mid-Sixties were the leading edge of antinuclear activism. Any number of people argued that the mere existence of nuclear weapons endangered the very existence of Mankind. Some of those people were teachers determined to impress their views on us young folks.

     It’s been six decades since then. A great deal has changed, but not this: nations that fancy themselves as “great powers,” actual or potential, still strive to acquire weapons of mass destruction (WMD). Whether nuclear, biological, chemical, or whatever else there may be, those who seek power over others want all of them.

     It’s unclear just how widely nuclear weaponry has spread. We know that nine nations definitely have them:

     But other nations may have acquired them as well. As for the other varieties of WMD, the picture is considerably cloudier. The tableau makes the need to understand international relations, competitions, and tensions graver than ever.

* * *

     Haretina Kukuri may be the most valuable thinker alive today. She’s produced a stunning compilation of analyses and inferences about international stability. If you have any interest at all in international relations and how the various rivalries affect world events, please read her piece in its entirety.

     From its beginning:

     Nobody built 2030 on purpose. I need you to sit with that sentence before you read another word of this piece, because everything that follows is simply proof of it, repeated across five domains until the pattern becomes impossible to unsee. Every actor examined here did the single most defensible thing available to it, at every decision point, across four straight years, and the sum of all that defensible behaviour produced a condition none of them would have chosen and none of them can now exit alone.

     From its middle:

     Twentieth-century stability rested on forces you could observe, count, trust to change slowly, tank divisions, missile silos, the sort of thing a satellite could photograph and a treaty could cap. The decisive capabilities of this decade meet none of those conditions.

     And from near its end:

     Haretina is an honest prognosticator. Immediately before that chart of probabilities, she writes:

     Every generation's predictions, [Freedman’s] own research shows, were shaped by the anxieties of their own present as thoroughly as by any genuine foresight…. The weights below are my own judgement.

     Once you’ve acquainted yourself with the breadth of her studies and ponderings, you’ll be inclined to trust that judgment.

* * *

     This is one of those encounters that can alter a thinker’s entire mental model of geostrategic causality. While there are themes that reach backward to fears we’ve faced in other guises – consider the movie WarGames for an example – there are new factors that transform those themes in critical ways. Probably the most important of those factors is the emergence of what we’ve been calling artificial intelligence (AI).

     The greatest of all threats to world peace is the powerful decision maker who sees his nation – and by implication, himself – brought to the edge of the abyss. In times past, his judgment, even if bolstered by the counsel of sober, intelligent others, was a human thing. It functioned at human speeds from a catalogue of a human’s priorities. It may include economic calculations, but only as supports to decisions with broader consequences.

     Digital AI, founded on calculation as is all digital technology, will “see things differently.” And it will see them at a speed far above the human. When that powerful decision maker’s analyses of his nation’s situation derives partly from AI, the factor of greatest import will be the degree of trusts he – and whoever might be in a position to constrain or overrule him – invests in that AI.

     We once thought the arms-control agreements of the Eighties and later decades would make us safer. But those agreements only limited certain kinds of weapons. The destructive capabilities of the world’s States have grown in other directions. AI hasn’t yet been adequately assessed in that light.

     When Haretina wrote:

     A single leader's miscalculation, a single accident nobody modelled, could make every careful trend in this piece irrelevant in an afternoon, and no survey, no book, no probability table protects against that possibility, because that possibility is precisely what none of them can see coming. I have built this piece on the better-supported case. I have not proven it is the only one.

     … I’d bet she was thinking about AI.

Wednesday, October 7, 2026

The Death Of A Fictional Character

     I’m in a fictional slump just now, so I’ve retreated from writing fiction to thinking about its necessities. My own tales always originate with a character conception. I’ve never been able to craft a story without such a character in mind at the outset. He and his needs and conflicts must come first.

     That key character must be someone plausible enough that were you to meet him, you wouldn’t take him for anything but a human, even if he should turn out to be way, way off the axis of the Bell Curve in some regard. I have to care about that character, as well. No matter what fate awaits him, I want him to live well and be happy… even if I birthed him intending to kill him.

     Just what is it that makes a writer care about one of his characters? A slew of other writers have told me that they agonize over the need to kill a character. I share that with them. I hope I share it with my readers. Apparently, now and then I do. You wouldn’t believe the amount of angry email I’ve received over the “deaths” of several characters.

     I’ve written heroes: Louis Redmond, Armand Morelon, Larry Sokoloff, and others who possess above-average abilities and characters. I killed two of those characters. I’ve also written victims: Christine D’Alessandro, Teresza Chistyakowski, Fountain, and so on. I killed two of those characters, as well. Now and then I’ve wondered which kind of character demise affects the reader more powerfully.

     I suppose it depends on how much appeal the character has for the reader – to which kind of character the reader bonds more readily.

     Some readers look for heroes to admire because they see themselves as heroes, or yearn to become heroes. Some others might sympathize more with victims, out of the sense that their lives and surroundings have treated them badly. The degree to which the reader bonds with a character determines the impact of the character’s death. If the reader bonds with none of your characters – possibly because he’s just looking for a few hours’ diversion from his mundane cares – will their deaths affect him at all?

     I even kill characters in my romances. Three of those four books are responsible for a total of nine character deaths: three heroes, three villains, and three Supporting Cast figures. The bloodshed made my “alpha reader” Amy ask whether I’d decided to take a page from George R. R. Martin.

     What about fictional villains? I’ve killed a few of those. I doubt my readers identified with any of them, but I hope they took satisfaction in their deaths. Nevertheless, I have to admit that killing them off took as much out of me as the deaths of any of my heroes or victims. They, too, were the children of my mind. No storyteller kills his children dispassionately. It boggles my mind that Shakespeare (whoever he was) survived killing so many of his characters, especially the Grand Guignol scene at the end of Hamlet.

     My colleagues in the storytelling trade: Tell us about your “body count.” Tell us which of your characters was hardest to kill, and why. And tell us, if you’ve received relevant feedback from your readers, how they reacted to that litter of corpses. If you’ll pardon the choice of words, it’s vital information!

Tuesday, October 6, 2026

Outside The Domain

     When I was much younger, I tended to think in universal terms. That’s common among the young and bright. We grasp a powerful idea; we see its possibilities for improving things; and we want to apply it everywhere, to everyone. The appeal of a powerful idea stems from its apparent prospects.

     But ideas are human artifacts. Humans being not universal but partial, everything we produce is partial as well. And anything partial will have a proper domain: a set of conditions within which it applies, but not outside it. Outside its proper domain, the idea will become irrelevant or worse.

     An idea doesn’t float free of all other things. It’s founded on premises about the natures of the things it addresses, and about reality itself. An idea divorced from its foundation premises is worthless if not destructive.

     This is so basic that we never think about it. We merely live in it, as we live in a particular space and time. Because of that, when we step beyond our habitual space and time, we all too easily lose our moorings. The ideas we carry around with us, largely unexamined but relied upon even so, can become our enemies.

     The idea I have in mind this morning is one of the greatest ever propounded. It made possible the emergence of Western Civilization. Without it, we would still be in Hobbes’s “state of nature,” in which life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” Indeed, before the earliest, incomplete versions of the idea were enunciated, that’s exactly what Mankind endured.

     That idea is the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

* * *

     The Golden Rule is founded on an unspoken assumption: i.e., that the unnamed “others,” were your position and theirs exchanged, would do unto you as they would have you do unto them. But how can you know what they would “do unto you?” Well, they might already have done it. That would be applicable to persons near to you – your neighbors — and to others with whom you’ve interacted in the recent past. For all others, it would require fresh interactions: not one, but enough of them to be reasonably sure of them.

     The famous “Prisoner’s Dilemma” studies provide a way of arriving at the answer:

  1. Be benevolent upon initial interaction.
  2. On further interactions:
    1. If they were benevolent toward you in the previous interaction, be that way toward them;
    2. Else be hostile or aloof toward them.

     For you cannot maintain a benevolent posture toward one whose response is to attack or exploit you. That’s suicide, albeit prolonged. Christ Himself, the formulator of the Golden Rule, said so in the Sermon on the Mount:

     Give not that which is holy to dogs; neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest perhaps they trample them under their feet, and turning upon you, they tear you. [Matthew 7:6]

     The Redeemer wasn’t talking about animals. He was defining the domain of application for the idea He enunciated next: The Golden Rule. For that Rule is only applicable within a context of reciprocity. Should reciprocity fail, you must withdraw from further interaction, at least for the present.

     This has implications for many settings.

* * *

     The greater part of any man’s learning is done by doing: i.e., by living, experiencing, and coping with necessities and opportunities as they arise. That’s equally true for Robinson Crusoe and for persons in an advanced First World society of many millions. Among the things we learn is the domain of application of our personal benevolence: when it applies, and to whom.

     Everyone capable of comprehending the crap here at Liberty’s Torch is familiar with the concept of the enabler: one who makes it possible for some other person caught in a pattern of destructive behavior to continue in that pattern. Among the things we learn through experience is which of our fellows are enmeshed in such a pattern, and whether they can do so due to the contributions of an enabler. Many Americans can count one or more such persons among their acquaintances.

     No decent person actively wants to be an enabler. Yet a great deal of destructive behavior is possible only because enablers make it so. Moreover, the idea applies at scale: to individuals and to whole societies as well.

     First World societies were premised on ideas of great power: from Christ’s message to the Enlightenment, and more. They worked, when they worked, because they were “inside the domain of application.” That is, the persons who held them lived and worked among other persons who held them. Exceptions were few and reliably dealt with.

     But when individual responsibility was pushed aside for collective responsibility – notions that “society is to blame” rather than the actor for his bad actions – it changed the game. Suddenly everyone but the bad actor was “on the hook” for disruptive and destructive behavior. Mass immigration from Third World countries to our own has highlighted the perniciousness of that change, but it was already at work before the tides of Third Worlders reached our shores.

* * *

     Hearken to an unusually perceptive and intelligent young woman:

     White males have ENORMOUS difficulty in not projecting their nature onto others and so will always do so to some degree or another. They seem almost incapable of grasping that difference. And they THINK they know, but they rarely do.
     If you think I'm wrong, and if you're a White fella I just know ya do, ask yourself just how much of your suffering... how much of your blood and treasure, as a person, as a culture, as a genetically distinct group of people, has been spent with the expectation that they are as you are.
     That if you just spent more, if you just tried harder, if you just found a way, if you just did this, if you just did that that the outcome would be different because if if they're not YOU that they're enough *like* you that there's a bridge that could be crossed.
     And you might be like "Well, we spent an awful lot, but we learned eventually..." and THAT RIGHT THERE is an example of how different you are because they would have NEVER done that for you. Never, not once, not in all of history.
     They *started* with the assumption that they would never do that for you, and they never have, but it's taken you decades and trillions to JUST NOW come to that realization, and most of you *still* don't get it.

     Black Dumpling has laid it out plainly.

     For the umpteenth time, I’m put in mind of a passage from C. S. Lewis:

     If Ransom said nothing, it was because he could not speak. He saw a man who was certainly not ill, to judge from his easy stance and the powerful use he had just been making of his fingers. He saw a man who was certainly Weston, to judge from his height and build and coloring and features. In that sense he was quite recognizable. But the terror was that he was also unrecognizable. He did not look like a sick man: but he looked very like a dead one. The face which he raised from torturing the frog had that terrible power which the face of a corpse sometimes has of simply rebuffing every conceivable human attitude one can adopt towards it. The expressionless mouth, the unwinking stare of the eyes, something heavy and inorganic in the very folds of the cheek, said clearly: “I have features as you have, but there is nothing in common between you and me.” It was this that kept Ransom speechless. What could you say—what appeal or threat could have any meaning—to that?

     [From Perelandra]

     Ransom had come face to face with something that was wholly Other. It was not Weston as Ransom had known him. Indeed, it was not a man as he knew men to be, but an entity that shared nothing with men but Weston’s shell. Ransom knew at once that there could be no arguing nor bargaining with it.

     Our problem with those who disdain the key premises of our society – responsibility, honesty, good will toward others – is not quite as severe as Ransom’s. However, it requires a comparable quality of understanding. We cannot treat them as though they were “just like us, but misguided.” They lie outside the domain.

Monday, October 5, 2026

A Low-Energy Monday

     Good morning, Gentle Reader. I’m coming off an extremely trying weekend. (Why did I look forward to weekends when I was working? I can’t remember.) So, rather than produce an essay of the usual sort, I’d like to make a couple of comments on a piece you might find notable.

     This piece from the U.S. edition of the Guardian is about a year old, but it’s valuable even so as an illustration of the Left’s driving need to politicize everything:

     Today’s extremist styles are more diverse and more subtle. Beyond T-shirts that advertise blatant racism, polo shirts with coded symbols create a shared in-group identity and signal support of violence to other believers. Tradwife-style prairie dresses and beauty regimens promote conservative visions of family. Clothing is a powerful tool to spread fascist ideas to promote authoritarianism and recruit new members to this cause.
     […]
     This new fashion no longer seeks to shock or to antagonize, but to appeal to a sense of identity and belonging, said Monica Sklar, associate professor of textiles, merchandising and interiors and curator of the Anne Barge Historic Clothing and Textiles Collection at the University of Georgia. “The idea is not being quite a subculture but to be embedded in the power structure. Instead of coding things to move away from the masses, this fashion is coding things to move into the masses,” and this is a purposeful shift.
     […]
     These styles not only allow their wearers to blend in, but they also play a role in normalizing an aesthetics of radicalism and violence. Sociologist and American University professor Cynthia Miller-Idriss, who studies extremism and polarization, has written that “it is simply much harder to recognize ideas as hateful when they come in an aesthetic package that doesn’t fit the image people hold in their heads about what white supremacists look like”. When the radical right looks like the mythical boy and girl next door, it’s hard to know who can be a threat.

     The whole article is like that. But savor the ironies.

     The Left promotes an all-embracing uniformity among its allegiants. They must think alike. They must speak alike. They must associate solely with other Leftists. And to an extent unimagined by the individualist-oriented Right, they must look alike.

     The article makes no mention of Leftist fashion preferences, of course; that would be wrong. But consider the Bertholt Brecht-inspired outfit that dominated Communist chic in the early Twentieth Century:

     Bertholt Brecht, whose play Drums in the Night was first staged in Berlin in 1922, when he was twenty-four, wrote political allegories. He was attracted to Communism by its violence, as he was to American gangsterism, and his friend Arnolt Bronnen to fascism; Brecht designed his own ‘uniform’, the first of the Leftist outfits–leather cap, steel-rimmed glasses, leather coat.

     [Paul Johnson, Modern Times]

     …and of the uniformity among Leftist street activists of our time in shabby dressing and cramming as many piercings as they can into their faces. Then there are the masks… but I digress.

     The article also illustrates how far from actual scholarship our universities have gone. “Associate professor of textiles, merchandising and interiors” -- ? There must be a quote somewhere about this… ah, I have it here:

     “I don’t like to be called ‘Doctor.’ ”
     “Sir?”
     “Oh, I’m not offended. But when they began handing out doctorates for comparative folk dancing and advanced flyfishing, I became too stinkin’ proud to use the title. I won’t touch watered whiskey and take no pride in watered-down degrees. Call me Jubal.”
     “Oh. But the degree in medicine hasn’t been watered down.”
     “Time they called it something else, so as not to confuse it with playground supervisors. ”

     Once again, RAH is “on point.”

     It has been said many times that to confuse their opponents, Leftists routinely accuse them of whatever it is that they are currently doing. Hold onto that observation. It can keep you properly oriented when dealing with such adversaries. Remember how Islamic activists cry “Peace! Peace! We are for peace!” as they attack and maul their targets?

     Have a nice day.