As anybody who read the old 'Society Matters' back in the heady days of 2002 will recall, we didn't always choose the strident message, the politically charged tenet; au contraire, good news was spread about.
As of a couple of weeks ago, I am living in Gloucestershire, in a big, comfortable house, working for an excellent British Engineering company not unconnected to Rolls-Royce.
I am doing software( which was the plan), and, as DEVO said, I have 'twisted away those gates of steel' to the point where I am now performing a function I was born for.
One of them.
And so, although my heating in this ambition of a house is insufficient to the -6C cold snap we are experiencing, the hiss of the trains going by on the nearby railway line and the Digestive warmth of my biscuits and coffee are more than enough to produce a feeling of enormous well-being as another week closes; tomorrow my White Goods arrive and the TV gets connected.
Tomorrow the White Goods; today the World.
Thursday, 2 December 2010
Monday, 29 November 2010
Global Farce.
Global Warming.
Either it is real, or it is rubbish.
I think it is rubbish.
Why?
It's very simple.
According to Warmist alarmists, the present cold snap could just presage the collapse of the Ocean Conveyor, leading to Arctic conditions most of the year and a total removal of oceanic food supplies.
This being true (which it isn't) I would have initiated a massive crash programme of Nuclear Power construction, at least twenty new power stations which would provide clean, competitive energy that we need in the new darkness.
But....
We haven't had that.
What we've had is nothing but bullshit, whereby mendacious politicians and their cohorts have engineered onerous regimes with which to browbeat and push around the population while doing nothing whatsoever to address any avowed problems that we may be facing.
They are liars, crooks and cheats who are only interested in funding a few more Dorset retirements for themselves and their friends.
To hell with them all.
Either it is real, or it is rubbish.
I think it is rubbish.
Why?
It's very simple.
According to Warmist alarmists, the present cold snap could just presage the collapse of the Ocean Conveyor, leading to Arctic conditions most of the year and a total removal of oceanic food supplies.
This being true (which it isn't) I would have initiated a massive crash programme of Nuclear Power construction, at least twenty new power stations which would provide clean, competitive energy that we need in the new darkness.
But....
We haven't had that.
What we've had is nothing but bullshit, whereby mendacious politicians and their cohorts have engineered onerous regimes with which to browbeat and push around the population while doing nothing whatsoever to address any avowed problems that we may be facing.
They are liars, crooks and cheats who are only interested in funding a few more Dorset retirements for themselves and their friends.
To hell with them all.
Saturday, 27 November 2010
Micro-Communism.
Winston Churchill said that the Soviets didn't want war, they only wanted the spoils of war without the actual fighting.
He was right of course, and this is what protected the West from the Soviet Union for 50 years, our preparedness to fight.
So, the Soviet Union took every opportunity to score bloodless, 'prestige' victories that would render material benefit to their regime, either by expanding the areas they could squeeze, or by encouraging their populations to believe in the lies.
Micro-Communism? What do I mean by this?
Well, the Soviet Union behaved in a certain way; but none of this behaviour was removed from our knowledge of individual human behaviours.
For example, when walking down a street, you might see a person coming the other way, and quiet rightly choose to pass them on the right or the left; then the next time you look, that person is back in your path.
This is pure Communism;
they want to push you around; they want to make you do something for them, without actually having to give an order; they want to demoralise you(rob you of emotional content) without any overt threat or violence, but by using any unrealised discrepancy between your avowed social principles and the actual mechanism of your psychology.
And if you just keep heading straight for them, they may or may not choose to escalate.
But in the vast majority of cases (including many psychopathological and criminal people), they will give way, as the Soviet Union did over Cuba and a dozen other places.
This is what Rand meant when she characterised Communism as plain, old Human evil.
He was right of course, and this is what protected the West from the Soviet Union for 50 years, our preparedness to fight.
So, the Soviet Union took every opportunity to score bloodless, 'prestige' victories that would render material benefit to their regime, either by expanding the areas they could squeeze, or by encouraging their populations to believe in the lies.
Micro-Communism? What do I mean by this?
Well, the Soviet Union behaved in a certain way; but none of this behaviour was removed from our knowledge of individual human behaviours.
For example, when walking down a street, you might see a person coming the other way, and quiet rightly choose to pass them on the right or the left; then the next time you look, that person is back in your path.
This is pure Communism;
they want to push you around; they want to make you do something for them, without actually having to give an order; they want to demoralise you(rob you of emotional content) without any overt threat or violence, but by using any unrealised discrepancy between your avowed social principles and the actual mechanism of your psychology.
And if you just keep heading straight for them, they may or may not choose to escalate.
But in the vast majority of cases (including many psychopathological and criminal people), they will give way, as the Soviet Union did over Cuba and a dozen other places.
This is what Rand meant when she characterised Communism as plain, old Human evil.
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Sunday, 26 September 2010
The Granite Face Of Oppression.
What are the means of oppression in civil societies? Do the oppressors let the genie out of the lamp and start murdering at will?
Not quite.
While murder is always on the cards for those who do not conform, the real weapon at the disposal of oppressors is something that looks like (but isn't) indifference.
When we expect a fight, we are actually left with only boredom. Such boredom as makes us question whether there was a conflict at all, boredom that erases tension so fully that we are led to question ourselves, to question why we should question.
We are supposed to shrivel up and die.
The granite-face rarely shows any signs of life, and then only to our backs, lest we should realise we were right.
Oppression is a wall, a unity, a will to victory over all like us that encourages the few clowns who venture forth occasionally to torment us with their fraudulent sympathy and poisonous alliance; help, the more to enfeeble us.
And to question help?
Is to question common humanity.
When they take their rightful places in the wall, the wall between us and home, then we may wonder whether at all there was help.
But when the creatures of conformity see that we in turn are indifferent, then you see what led them to try and belong; the person you reflect to will feel the tables turned, and be brought back to their own distant defeat when that feverish, threatening indifference made them find the way to surrender, so as to feel the full kindness and welcome of the stinking sweat of the human crowd, a smell that has come to mean belonging.
And when you turn the tables on them, however fleetingly, you might see the human inside, struggling to belong to you instead.
But if you bring only freedom, you may find only hate.
Not quite.
While murder is always on the cards for those who do not conform, the real weapon at the disposal of oppressors is something that looks like (but isn't) indifference.
When we expect a fight, we are actually left with only boredom. Such boredom as makes us question whether there was a conflict at all, boredom that erases tension so fully that we are led to question ourselves, to question why we should question.
We are supposed to shrivel up and die.
The granite-face rarely shows any signs of life, and then only to our backs, lest we should realise we were right.
Oppression is a wall, a unity, a will to victory over all like us that encourages the few clowns who venture forth occasionally to torment us with their fraudulent sympathy and poisonous alliance; help, the more to enfeeble us.
And to question help?
Is to question common humanity.
When they take their rightful places in the wall, the wall between us and home, then we may wonder whether at all there was help.
But when the creatures of conformity see that we in turn are indifferent, then you see what led them to try and belong; the person you reflect to will feel the tables turned, and be brought back to their own distant defeat when that feverish, threatening indifference made them find the way to surrender, so as to feel the full kindness and welcome of the stinking sweat of the human crowd, a smell that has come to mean belonging.
And when you turn the tables on them, however fleetingly, you might see the human inside, struggling to belong to you instead.
But if you bring only freedom, you may find only hate.
Sunday Drivers.
I had to go and get fuel for next week; as I attempted to join the main road, a learner car came shooting up at way over the 40 limit.
I gave way and slotted in behind, but not without difficulty, as the guy slowed down sharply.
There was no student. It was the instructor.
For the remainder of the 40 limit, he did 34.
A queue started to form.
Back in the 60 limit, he accelerated, slowly and erratically, to 49. At one stage he nearly swerved into oncoming traffic.
Then we hit a 30 zone, in which he did 28.
Then we were back out on the open road, and I blew him away. Eventually he passed the petrol station where I was filling up.
This joker actually teaches this crap to people and they do it in real life, afterwards.
He should be sacked.
Anyway, on the way back I get the same shit from some people in an Alfa Romeo 2.0 Twin Spark.
Typical sports car being driven pathetically by a total incompetent.
I blew this one off as well on the next clear stretch, and never saw it again.
Why are there so many stupid bastards on the roads?
I gave way and slotted in behind, but not without difficulty, as the guy slowed down sharply.
There was no student. It was the instructor.
For the remainder of the 40 limit, he did 34.
A queue started to form.
Back in the 60 limit, he accelerated, slowly and erratically, to 49. At one stage he nearly swerved into oncoming traffic.
Then we hit a 30 zone, in which he did 28.
Then we were back out on the open road, and I blew him away. Eventually he passed the petrol station where I was filling up.
This joker actually teaches this crap to people and they do it in real life, afterwards.
He should be sacked.
Anyway, on the way back I get the same shit from some people in an Alfa Romeo 2.0 Twin Spark.
Typical sports car being driven pathetically by a total incompetent.
I blew this one off as well on the next clear stretch, and never saw it again.
Why are there so many stupid bastards on the roads?
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Don't Keep Strange Society.
Every few years, something happens; a social interaction, a snub, a violation, something which moves into my consciousness and refuses to be dismissed easily.
It is sensitivity of a special sort, the sensitivity to something moving on me with a particular precision.
It usually comes as an attack from a quarter which is classed as friendly, without warning.
There are certain people who operate with a type of reserve which is anything but passive, and in fact is only waiting for the right opportunity to attack.
The attack can come when you're doing well, when you are relaxed and happy, or when you are down and out.
Come to think of it, the attacks on me are launched at times when any reasonable slug, peering out from under its stone, might presume to think that I am fragile or experiencing difficulties.
Of course, they underestimate me; and most people in fact.
Whereas somebody might look at me and think I'm alone and unemployed and short of money, in fact my prospects are bright, I have enough money (rosy circumstances of my own arrangement) and I enjoy being alone.
Usually it is some coward who fears my circumstances who tries to enforce their lame-brained classification of me, in order to feel superior.
This gratuitous evil can always be erased from their records by acceptance of relatives, or friends, or priests(!), but it leaves a permanent and growing psychological mechanism in their minds, the very mechanism they try to impose.
The plain fact is that a lot of these people exist only in terms of their own property, and to lose it would destroy them.
Give me a self-made man anytime. They won't be a vicious little moral weakling. Although they may well have their vices, social relativism isn't likely to be one of them.
Then of course, for the suspicious among us, there is the possibility that sometimes these people apply pressure all too exactly, all too precisely; that in fact they have given some thought to the matter.
At these times one has to be careful not to yell "Conspiracy!" too quickly.
But sometimes the depth of thought required to account for the unaccountable persistence over time of an encounter's bad flavour, is such that there can only be an active intelligence somewhere in the chain of delivery.
Who knew where evil grew, eh?
It is sensitivity of a special sort, the sensitivity to something moving on me with a particular precision.
It usually comes as an attack from a quarter which is classed as friendly, without warning.
There are certain people who operate with a type of reserve which is anything but passive, and in fact is only waiting for the right opportunity to attack.
The attack can come when you're doing well, when you are relaxed and happy, or when you are down and out.
Come to think of it, the attacks on me are launched at times when any reasonable slug, peering out from under its stone, might presume to think that I am fragile or experiencing difficulties.
Of course, they underestimate me; and most people in fact.
Whereas somebody might look at me and think I'm alone and unemployed and short of money, in fact my prospects are bright, I have enough money (rosy circumstances of my own arrangement) and I enjoy being alone.
Usually it is some coward who fears my circumstances who tries to enforce their lame-brained classification of me, in order to feel superior.
This gratuitous evil can always be erased from their records by acceptance of relatives, or friends, or priests(!), but it leaves a permanent and growing psychological mechanism in their minds, the very mechanism they try to impose.
The plain fact is that a lot of these people exist only in terms of their own property, and to lose it would destroy them.
Give me a self-made man anytime. They won't be a vicious little moral weakling. Although they may well have their vices, social relativism isn't likely to be one of them.
Then of course, for the suspicious among us, there is the possibility that sometimes these people apply pressure all too exactly, all too precisely; that in fact they have given some thought to the matter.
At these times one has to be careful not to yell "Conspiracy!" too quickly.
But sometimes the depth of thought required to account for the unaccountable persistence over time of an encounter's bad flavour, is such that there can only be an active intelligence somewhere in the chain of delivery.
Who knew where evil grew, eh?
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