Sunday, March 1, 2015

The Bible as Good Practical Wisdom

I don’t look at the Bible so much as religion but as good practical wisdom about life, especially about the frailties of humanity. You can find the same wisdom in Aesop’s Fables, in fairy tales, and in any good novel, including popular ones, such as those by Stephen King.

Let’s take, for example, the Book of Proverbs. There are seven detestable things listed.
• A proud look
• A lying tongue
• Hands that shed innocent blood
• A heart that devises wicked plots
• Feet that are swift to run into mischief
• A deceitful witness that uttereth lies
• Him that soweth discord among brethren

These traits can be translated into hubris, lying and murder. “Wicked plots” can mean anything bad, be it murder, lies, theft, as can all the rest.

The Bible is in many ways “conservative,” in the sense of its depiction of people as inherently imperfect and flawed. Not surprisingly, all the better writers portray people as greatly flawed, be they Shakespeare or Conrad or Dostoevsky. As I mentioned, even the modern-day popular ones, such as Stephen King, portray people as very flawed.

The worst writers, such as Karl Marx (and what he wrote is fiction) portray people as not limited and flawed, as being potential gods, as them being capable of creating a utopia on earth.

It’s clear that many people fall for the belief there can be a Heaven on earth, otherwise so many people would not for fallen for Marx, or Stalin, or Hitler, with their beliefs that once you get rid of the bad people, only goodness will remain.

I’ve heard these people who promise Heaven on earth referred to as ‘the Children of Darkness,” and the problem with them is that they are far more clever than the Children of Light. If they weren’t cleverer than the Children of Light, they wouldn’t be far more able to manipulate and con people.

The problem is that people are flawed, in fact sleepwalkers, because if they weren’t, so many of them would not fall for the promises of the Children of Darkness. And what the Children of Darkness promise is far more than what the Children of Light promise. Far, far more, and that is the problem.

The promises of the Children of Darkness include not only utopia on earth, but getting rid of evil, which of course is an inherent part of utopia. When David Frum and Richard Perle wrote a book called An End to Evil, they immediately identified themselves as Children of Darkness, most especially since their “end to evil” involved long-term war.

I have come to the conclusion that the mass of people are sheep, they are asleep, they fall for the outrageous promises of the Children of Darkness, with their promises of utopia and an end to evil. It’s as if they’re children who never grew up, and look to leaders for them to worship, ones who believe will take them of their every need.

They want to return to the Garden of Eden, ignoring the fact there is a cherubim with a flaming sword barring their way back. That fact is also some of the good practical wisdom in the Bible.

The Manosphere and Naive Realism

I've pointed out before I have a hard time taking much of the Manosphere seriously. For one thing, the concepts are simple-minded, although its supporters think they're not.

Simple-minded concepts, as Communism and Objectivism, are easy to understand. The narcissistic concepts of the Manosphere are easy to understand. Men good, women bad. That's why it's the mirror image of feminism.

I've probably taken too many philosophy classes in college. There is an old concept in philosophy called Naive Realism, which is the belief we perceive reality directly. We don't, although today some philosophers and psychologists still argue that we do.

The ancient Greeks (and the Buddists, for that matter) subdivided matter, which is why the Greeks came up with the word "atom." The Buddhists were a bit more sophisticated and argued these "atoms" flashed into and out of existence. Science has confirmed these things - yet we cannot directly perceive atoms. Reality is about 99.999% "empty" - just a bunch of subatomic particles whirling so fast they appear solid.

Yet we cannot directly perceive atoms and subatomic particles, except then we use billion-dollar machines.

Naive realism argues everything is solid, just the way in the past it argued the sun went around the Earth. That's what it appears like, doesn't it?

We cannot directly perceive Alphas and Betas and Gammas, "hypergamy," etc. Some looked at the behavior and came up with concepts to explain them. In other words, we impose the concepts in our heads (the ideas) on reality, to explain it. These ideas are never 100% accurate.

Yet there are those who think these ideas are 100% accurate. I'll give some examples - the ludicrous "The Rational Male." Vox Day when he ceases to write about science fiction. Roissy, clearly a liar.

All of them have ideas in their heads, which they think is the Absolute Truth, which they impose on reality and think is 100% accurate. None of them have never written of any philosophical concepts such as Realism and Idealism. I doubt they know what they are.

Everyone does this, this imposition of ideas to explain reality. I do it. You do it.

But at least I know I do it.

Saturday, February 28, 2015

You're Still in the Matrix

All you "Red Pill" types out there - don't you realize that when Neo took the Red Pill he only had powers in the Matrix? That's the reason I never use the term "Red Pill." Those who claim they've taken it are still in the Matrix.

When you take the Manosphere Red Pill you're exchanging one Matrix for another.

This isn't original with me. It's an old concept. We're don't know reality directly. We only know it through our brain/senses. "The map is not the terrain." The models of reality in our heads are not reality itself.

Since we cannot perceive reality directly, all of us are in Matrix.

The Red Pill, "hypergamy," "Alpha/Beta/Whatever," "Alpha Fucks and Beta Bucks," Evo-Psych...these are simplistic concepts in our heads some use to explain reality. None of them are reality itself.

Of course, some concepts work better than others. The philosophy of much of the Manosphere - that which I listed above - is not workable. Some understand that. You know why? Nihilistic and hedonistic is never workable. That's ancient wisdom from thousands of years ago.

I at least know I'm in the Matrix. That itself is a great measure of freedom.

Repairman Bob

The clich̩ Рand there is truth to it, as there is truth to all clich̩s Рis that men fix, women vent. That causes problems, as most everyone finds out. Women vent to men and men want to fix the problem.

I tell women, if you want to vent, talk to your girlfriends. You don’t go to a doctor or dentist to vent: you want your problems fixed. I don’t want to hear you babble unless you want the problem fixed.

Some men turn off women’s babbling. All they hear is a hum in the background. I knew one guy whose wife babbled around the kitchen while he was reading the paper. He had no idea what she was ever saying, but one day she stopped talking and he looked up and said, “Is there something wrong?” because the background noise had stopped. But if you had asked him what she had said, he wouldn’t have had a clue.

When people ask me want I do for a living, I tell them I fix things. I get some odd looks. But if you think about it, all jobs are about fixing things. Or, at least, most of them.

F. Paul Wilson has a series of novels about a character he calls Repairmen Jack. Jack fixes things when the people cannot go to the police. I sometimes tell people since I fix things, I call myself Repairmen Bob.

Sometimes the desire to fix things can be a compulsion. I once saw a cat fall down a sewer drain opening and spent half a hour figuring out how to get him out (I ended up pulling him up with a piece of wire after I took the manhole cover off).

When I can’t fix things it drives me nuts. Many years I couldn’t get the water pump off of my car and was cursing mightily. Then I looked up and saw my mother standing on the porch with her mouth open. What was coming out of me was “($*%*!@#$%^!!!!!”

Men are the ones who invented civilization and technology. I figure one of the reasons is because they want to fix things. It’s hot? Let’s make it cooler. It’s cold? Let’s make it warmer. You’re sick? Let’s make you well.

If people spent all their time venting, we’d still be living in caves.

Benjamin Shapiro, Manly Man!

"Without education, we are in a horrible and deadly danger of taking educated people seriously." - G.K. Chesterton

I am amazed at the number of the mentally ill, of cowards, of traitors, who gain influence. It always takes the media, which ceased being useful or truthful decades ago.

I wrote this perhaps ten years ago.

It must be hard being Benjamin Shapiro. Standing in front of a full-length mirror in a jockstrap, making tuff faces, wondering why you're 21 and have twelvish biceps, being puzzled over why the babes don't swoon over your bitchin' violin playing...and then every damned time, without fail, your shriveled pair makes your strap plop down around your ankles. Honestly, what's a boy to do?

Dry your eyes, I suppose, gaze with admiration and longing upon your Alexander poster of a buff Brad Pitt, hitch up a pair of tighty-whities (the ones with the special "Frank 'n' Beans" codpiece designed to avoid those embarrassing and sometimes not-so-surreptitious public glances), slip your feet into your penny loafers, and thence to the keyboard, trying hopelessly to get that testosterone level to, well, low-low-low-normal at least.

I know that's a hard task, what with the genetically determined wimpification and all, but Benjie does give it the old kindergarten try. Recently he's tried to get the glands to chug out the manly hormones by attacking Pat Buchanan in an execrable column he wrote at the even more execrable WorldNetDaily, a site that used to be pretty good, until publisher Joseph Farah looked down one day and noticed his pair had shriveled up on him, too.

I don't agree with everything Pat Buchanan writes, but I do know he is an honorable man. Shapiro is neither honorable, nor a man. What he is, then? He's...wait a minute...what's that sound I hear? Oh, yeah, there it is: "Buk, buk, buk." That's the squawk of the Chickenhawk, that species that will not fight under any circumstances but instead stands on the sidelines yelling, "Throw the ball there. Okay, now throw it over here."

Benjie's one of those doing the yelling. He's also one of those who will never, ever get onto the field and into the game. That's what having a shriveled pair will do to you, along with shrieking, putting a glass on top of a spider wandering across the kitchen floor, then, with trembling girlish fingers, calling the exterminator.

Buchanan, who Benjie thinks is a naughty, naughty boy, caused him go all PMS when Buchanan wrote a column castigating blundering, war-mongering presidents from Wilson to FDR to Truman to Kennedy to Bush. He's also suggested we give foreign aid to Hamas. They are, after all, democratically elected (the only democracy in the Middle East, you know, hee hee).

Benjie had a hissy fit over Buchanan's column. What, not invade the Middle East to conquer it for Israel's sake, using as a smokescreen the rationalization of pounding democracy into the wogs, even if you have to rub out truckloads of them? Benjie ignores the wisdom of his betters, such as Jesus and Aesop, both of whom noticed that all tyrants call themselves benefactors. Instead, like every Chickenhawk, Benjie drools for war, as long as his eunuch-smooth complexion is never put at risk.

Here are some of the words a palpitating Benjie tapped out about Buchanan: "anti-Semitic...ignorant...anti-Semitic...moral blindness...anti-Semitic...myopic bigotry...anti-Semitic...wisdom and patriotism must be questioned...anti-Semitic...arrogance...anti-Semitic...laughable...anti-Semitic." Ooh, them's fighting words, pardner! Not that Benjie's going to do any fighting, except with his mouth, from behind his computer, from his parents' basement, huddling behind a locked door. Certainly not in Iraq, or Afghanistan...or for his homies in Israel.

Let's cut to the chase, here. Shapiro is a Zionist Jew, and a crazed and cowardly one at that. He puts Israel first. Buchanan is an American. He puts America first. It's as simple as that, once you get beyond the farrago of obscuring, hate-filled verbiage that Shapiro spewed. He may pretend he's a patriot, but that's true only if you define patriotism not as the last refuge of a scoundrel, but the first.

If you think it isn't that simple, Shapiro once wrote a bizarre column, again for WorldNetDaily, in which he hooted, and hooted loudly, for genocide. Hey, wait a minute once again! Isn't genocide what the Nazis did to some Jews...and some Christians...and some homosexuals...and some Gypsies...and some Masons? Or is there good genocide, and not-so-good genocide? In Benjie-world, in a word, yep!

Once you get past Bela Kun Benjie's duplicitous words, what he writes boils down to this: "Kill them. Kill them all, and kill all their kids, too!" He tells us the story of Jewish holiday Purim, in which ancient Jews, during a two-day period, killed "75,000 Jew haters" throughout the Persian Empire, "800 in the capital [sic] city of Shushan alone."

Like, brrr! All 75,000 of them were "Jew haters"? Even the infants? (The relevant quote reads, "Now go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not; but slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass.") Wow! Even better, Benjie describes this little tiff as "God's hand...revealed though...the actions of men." Neat! I'll say this, though: it doesn't sound like a Kodak moment to me, not when you're skewering some kid on a stick. Still, I must say, it is way-cool that Benjie has personal knowledge of God's hand and who He's smacking with it.

Benjie refers to all "Jew haters" as the Biblical "Amalek," and tells us it "refers to a real, physical nation. Jews are enjoined to kill descendants of that nation." Benjie defines a Jew hater as...well, anyone he defines as a Jew hater. To him, Buchanan is a Jew-hater, ergo, he is an Amalekite, ergo, he should be killed. And his kids, too! Hey, ain't it a hate crime to say such things? Or even to think them?

If you want to do an interesting thought-experiment with Benjie's piece, replace "Jew" with "Nazi" and "anti-Semite" with Jew. You'll find that Benjie's twisted soul is no different than the most goose-stepping of Nazi's. At least the Nazis had nifty uniforms, ones I suspect Benjie pines for in a quasi-homoerotic kind of way. (By the way, the by-his-own-admission-virginal Talibenjie wrote a book about the evil of pornography, most ironic indeed since Jews dominate the industry both as performers and producers. Basment-dweller underahieverus is so obsessed with porn I suspect he spends a lot of time downstairs exercising his wrist, and I don't mean typing.)

The fact he's never had any puddy (if indeed he really is interested in it) raises an interesting question: could it be related to his lust for mass murder, as long, of course, as he's the one doing the lusting and other people are doing the mass murdering? If so, then do all virginal violin-playing wimps have obscene fantasies of mass murder, destruction and theft? I wonder what name there is for such a sin? Could it be....Satan?!

I wonder what's going to happen to Benjie in the years to come? On the one hand, I suspect he might turn into a more rabid version of Norman "Poddy" Podhoretz, who I'm sure wants to forget a little '60's episode in which he ignored what every mirror told him, put the make on Jackie Kennedy, and then got flicked away like a booger on her finger with the comment, "Mr. Podhoretz, just who do you think you are?"

That last comment also applies to Benjie: Just who does he think he is? Obviously, a 21-year-old who's smarter than Buchanan, the Founding Fathers, and the wisdom of the world. Why? Well, just cuz. Just cuz Americans are supposed to expend blood and treasure defending Israel. Just cuz Benjie says so, without exactly coming out and admitting what is really is -- an Israel-firster, as opposed to an America-firster.

On the other hand, he might turn into Betty Friedan, who recently gave up the ghost, thereby losing her title as the Ugliest Woman in the World. Betty had a Poddy-moment in her life, too, when her overstuffed suitcase burst at an airport, spilling, ahem, "marital aids" onto the floor. I'm sure she needed them, because I can't imagine who would have -- urp -- done her. At least with his eyes open.

Benjie might not go either way. Lookswise, he's a cross between a wimpier version of the necrophilic serial-killer Ted Bundy and the crypto-gay comic-book character, Prince Namor of Atlantis. With that kind of pedigree, and having almost no sense whatsoever in his pointy little inbred head, I suspect he'll crash and burn early, turn into the Zionist version of a bag lady, then spend the rest of his life walking the streets, muttering to himself, "'s their fault...damned Amalekites...shoulda killed their dogs, too."

He's a born coward, a bayonetter of the wounded and helpless, a born sadistic torturer of puppies and kitties, and a born wannabe murderer (one with no balls), with a head full of tangled, sputtering, shorted-out brain-wiring, just like Gen. Jack D. Ripper in Dr. Strangelove, who went all a-twitter over imaginary subversives who wanted to "sap and impurify all our precious bodily fluids."

For that matter, WorldNetDaily has a lot of brain-sputters, too, for running a genocide-promoting nutcase, one who thinks God gave him the right to kill Pat Buchanan and his kids. And -- most probably -- his dog, too.


Friday, February 27, 2015

Lil' Pod, Hideously Inbred Nerd

Another coward, traitor and buffoon I wrote about years ago.

Poor John Podhoretz -- oafish, repulsive, cowardly, backstabbing, boring, a picker-of-his-nose-in-public -- and so dull-witted he couldn't cut soft butter with his forehead. Then there's the Matrix plug in the back of his Foul and Most Foreign Peanut-Shaped Pinhead (F&MFP-SP), the one feeding him the most hallucinogenic of Philip K. Dick novels -- the never-written one in which a brilliant, adventureous Poddy is a cross between Dr. Benton Quest and Race Bannon. If that plug ever falls out, reality will come crashing in on Lil' Pod, and he will see himself in all his grotesque, inbred, Betty Friedanesque glory -- a high-speed DNA collision between Elmer Fudd and Beldar Conehead.

That plug is apparently pumping all sorts of anti-American ideas into Lil' Pod's F&MFS-HP, such as the one that Americans want to import millions of Mexicans who fly the American flag upside-down on a pole and put the Mexican flag above it. It's Lil' Pod who's upside down, a position I've heard described as "cranio-rectal inversion." If it's permanent, it will surely improve his looks. It certainly won't hurt his brains.

Lil'Pod is the Quasimodoesque offspring of the original Poddy, Norman the Now-Senile. Senile Poddy's main claim to fame (excluding all his shameless self-promotion) was putting the make on Jackie Kennedy back in the '60's, then crawling away like a dung beetle after she skewered him with the icy eyeball and contempuously asked him, "Just who do you think you are, Mr. Podhoretz?" Somebody who never looked in a mirror, apparently, or else he didn't believe what they all told him -- that here was a man, no matter what his age, who always looked like an old geezer who should have a stogie in his mouth, wear boxer shorts, and back up his Cadillac on the interstate because he missed his exit.

Lil' Pod's well on his way to his father's decayed state, and suffers from the same malady: the delusion that people should listen to his opinion, even though he's as ignorant as my pug dog, whose underpowered brains can't tell the difference between a hot dog and a cat turd. In a recent article Lil' Pod (I suspect that nickname applies in more ways than one) whirled his pom-poms in support of totally open borders, claiming it's a good thing for the U.S. because he sees "a vibrant, dynamic, extraordinarily strong and extraordinarily stable country that has dealt successfully with far more pressing domestic problems without losing a beat."

See what I mean about that plug in his head? Frosty Wooldridge has a clearer view of what's really going: "Why are we allowing millions of diseased, non-assimilating, poverty-stricken revolutionaries and agitators and criminals, who despise us with a passion and who clearly have every intent of destroying our Republican form of government, into this country? What madness is this?"

Yes, Lil' Pod, it is madness, one that can, and has, destroyed countries. His sputtering synapses apparently can't comprehend this simple fact.

While Lil Pod's father occasionally made sense when he was younger, such as pointing out that the media portrayal of poor, downtrodden blacks was the exact opposite of their predatory behavior experienced by those in the real world, Lil Pod's accomplishments consist of little more than answering the most obscure of trivia questions on Jeopardy about "The Seinfeld Show."

That's an example of a mind that memorizes every tiny little twig and misses the entire forest.

Just how enormous is Lil Pod's self-delusion, that he does not know what he is? At the Washington Times the column he wrote for it was read out loud, for its laughter-inducing qualities, in a ritual called Podenfreude. For a long time he was referred to as "John P. Normanson," as in "John Podhoretz, Norman's son."

That's just pathetic. And now he completely dismisses as fantasies concerns about the increase in crime, disease, and reduction in wages brought by illegal immigrants, ones who are automatically criminals by being here illegally. He also claims the 14th Amendment, which grants automatic birthright citizenship to the children of illegal aliens, is responsible for "a great deal of the advances made in the 20th century by immigrant children." Apparently he thinks all those 89-IQ Mexican grape pickers are working on Ph.Ds in Molecular Biology in their spare time, or that their children are. . .children who are confused about which flag belongs in what country.

No, Lil' Pod, the critics are not living in a fantasy world. You are. As a leftist, you, like all leftists, don't merely misunderstand human nature; you don't understand it at all. The real world is one you don't want to deal with. One you can't deal with.

What would happen if Lil' Pod's delusional recommendations were put into effect, nation-wide? The result would be catastrophic. Would Lil' Pod say he was wrong and accept responsibility? Of course not. He would blame the problems on someone else, claiming his recommendations were not followed. Even if they were, to the letter.

Such are the wages of self-deception.

If Lil' Pod ever ended up in a field picking crops, he's throw his hands up to heaven, sit down, burst into tears, and wail, "I can't do this work! My butt's too big!" Then he'd wipe his eyes, go home, ignore his minaturized genitalia, and dream a little dream of being a Vikingesque marauder.

Come on, let's be honest here. Lil' Pod is a hideously inbred nerd, the offspring of two grotesque Troksyites -- Midge Dector and the already-mentioned Norman Podhoretz. Such ghastly inbreeding has made Lil' Pod an utter incompetent whose opinion is irrelevant on any issue. Perhaps he might go away some day. Perhaps. Or perhaps he'll just hang around forever like crabgrass and turn into the Fidel Castro of obnoxious stupidity -- a dildo-headed, beady-eyed little dork.

Were he not the son of Norman, he'd spend his life watching TV game shows, yelling at the screen, "I know that answer!" and dreaming of being the center square on Hollywood Squares. And probably having nightmares in which the audience laughed at him when the late Paul Lynde made double entendres he didn't understand, while he sat there like an organ-grinder's puzzled monkey who knows something is wrong, but hasn't quite realized someone has stolen his little red cap.