May Light Eternal Shine Upon Him

Commenter GKChesterton informed me earlier this morning that Zippy Catholic has died. As I told him: I am shocked at how sad I am.

I ask for prayers for his widow and children.

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Clerical Errors?

A conversation on a different social media platform provoked a question in my mind that I am surprised I have never wondered:

Where are clergy in the Men’s Sphere, or the larger Dissident Right?

Not one? I know of several psychologists or paychiatrists. There are lawyers and business owners. There are more than a few military officers. College professors are becoming common. Every section of the middle class is represented except clergy. Surely I don’t know everyone, but I have been around for awhile.

Doesn’t that mean either something is deeply wrong with us, or with the clergy of every denomination?

My SSD is either dead or injured. I’ll know more later. After it’s fixed I can start posting again.

Pro tip to Mac users: If you try to save a file in Texteditor and it tells you that the file cannot be saved, do not reboot. The program is fine. It’s the filepath that is corrupt, and that could be a symptom of a larger problem.

Back Next Week

I’ll be away for the next week, so no more posts until Monday. Tuesday night I’ll turn on moderation. If there’s anything anyone would like to suggest for a future post, put it in the comments before then.

Security Conference Seduction

Last Thursday the sun shone, the air was warm, and the apartment complex pool next to the sand volleyball court was clean. Swarmed in this space were a hundred or more men and women; college students with the day off. Nearly all the men had taken off their shirts. Most of the women wore bikinis. Each had a can or bottle of something, and they all laughed and touched and mooned. Trap boomed and screeched from overdriven speakers. To the untrained eye, it was something like a bacchanalian scene. But I–having been raised in church–knew that I witnessed the dark ritual seduction of innocent females seeking security.

The men faked good humor while the music hypnotized the women with its subtle lyrics of fornication and riches. They only did so because it was expected of them by the prospective papas at this impromptu security conference. The bumping propaganda lulled the women, and by this clever hypnosis and other unseen trickery the young men coerced the women to rub their bodies upon their oppressors. They only hung on the predators–as if each were a jungle gym–to see which man was strong enough to give a paternal hug, or some day hand his little girl an ice cream cone.

And so what about the beverages? What recourse had the poor, nearly naked, dears from this nightmare but to drink? How else to quell their fears of remaining unloved for who they were on the inside, or to drown their sorrows for having to pick from such a poor selection of future fathers who could not even manage a shirt?

Those women didn’t mean to wear bikinis around a bunch of sex-minded men instead of their dads. It was just bad luck.

Or, How I Learned to Love the Boss

This is a dashed-off list of the main 10 thoughts that led me to recognize the sweet, sentimental affection for freedom I have inside me, reach deep down in there, and start choking that bitch out.

  • Zippy Catholic, in particular his idea of the “unprincipled exception”: rules and ruling that do not proceed from the principle of liberty, but from something else, like “good”, or “just”. As well as being repeatedly confronted with the idea that I find it preferable to have a “free government” over a “good government”. That is just dumb.

 

  • Thinking about the Men’s Sphere complaint of the conservative formulation of familial headship–authority is responsibility but no command–is not true authority.

 

  • The interchangeability of the words: power, liberty, command, freedom, etc. We play subtle but corrosive games with these words. We think we understand each other, but I doubt it.

 

  • Taking stock of what few freedoms I actually have (in contrast to the things that are restricted from me), and how I’m mostly ok with that. My problem isn’t a lack of freedom. My problem is that I can’t count on my authorities to uphold me in justice when I make a good decision.

 

  • Martial Law. When things get bad, real bad, so bad that we have to resort to violence, we enact martial law. That is, we become overtly authoritarian. Obviously then we think that is the best, must-have form of government. And that means that everything else is half-ass measures. We’re playing shadow games here with liberalism.

 

  • The Kingdom of God. I must admit that the government the Lord chooses is the best, wisest, and most just kind of government.

 

  • Contemplating “Alt-Right”. As a lifelong member of GenX, Alt-Right is a gay term. It reminds me of Third Eye Blind’s “pierced queer teens in cyberspace”. I don’t want an alternative right. I want the good right. I want the just right. And I want a legitimate place in it, with authority over my own domain. I don’t want to be free to own a weapon. I want to be authorized–expected–to be armed.

 

  • Recognition that love for authority doesn’t mean all authorities are to be loved. Some kings need to be fought, abandoned, or killed…but they should be replaced with good ones.

 

  • Recognition that authoritarianism isn’t a synonym for, tyranny, despotism, etc. As well as recognition that authoritarianism doesn’t necessarily mean monarchy, inherited aristocracy, etc. (As well as some recalculations of whether those are good or bad, and how.) Authoritarianism just means liberties and responsibilities descend from authority, for real.

 

  • Respect is impossible to derive from freedom itself. If we’re all merely free to do or say this or that, then from whence can respect come? It’s just, like, your opinion, man. This is a big one.