Monthly Archives: March 2018

The Priesthood of All Believers

“The SJWs ye have always with you,” I’m pretty sure Jesus said at some point.  The trick is managing them.  SJWs have two primal drives:

  1. to boss people around; and
  2. to feel themselves the victim of something.

A healthy society comes up with a career track that maximizes both (for them) while doing minimal damage (to us).

In 20th century America, this was the function of the Ed Biz and its dorky, spastic little brother, the Ivory Tower.  Since kids are natural learners, this system didn’t do too much damage, provided the curriculum stayed close to the three Rs.  Meanwhile, teachers could torment their students at their leisure, while griping about being overworked and underpaid.  Remember this?


Yes, The Man is keeping you down, all right!  What with tenure, great bennies, no overtime, a captive audience, zero daily oversight, a lovely work environment (where you’re the boss!), and oh yeah, fucking summers off, not to mention a week at Thanksgiving and Easter, nearly a month at Christmas, and the eighteen zillion “inservice days” that are an hour’s worth of lecture followed by the “debriefing” down at the “teachers’ lounge.”


All while getting comped at a nice middle class salary.  This goes triple for college, which is one-third the work for three times the pay, plus private offices and no jailbait issues…. and, not coincidentally, three times the “we’re the Most Oppressed People EVAR!” whining.  It’s all by design, and provided there’s a decent economy — as there was almost all the time back in the 20th — nobody is harmed too much by spending a few months a year cooped up with these whackadoodles.

Alas, the good times are over.  Teachers still whine and bitch at astronomical rates — and profs are twenty times worse — but since we’ve all realized by now that the Ed Biz is, in fact, a BIZ, and a highly profitable one at that, all the MOPE cachet is gone… which means the SJWs can no longer fulfill part 2 of their Prime Directive.

As always, the Middle Ages had the right idea.  This is what a priesthood is for.  It’s perfect — you’re taking the world’s sins on your shoulders, plus you get to peer into the sordid private lives of your betters… and punish them!

The first thing we need to do is roll back the Reformation.  Priesthood of all believers?  Hell no.  We’ve got to get back to the days where good, socially conscious parents pledged their excess kids to the cloister when they were barely out of diapers.  You think Sasha and Malia Obama won’t be tormenting us in politics for the next 30 years?  If this were the good old days, we could deal with ’em Hamlet style — “get thee to a nunnery!”

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Leftism is Conspicuous Consumption

Via David Thompson, an excellent introduction to the reticulated nonsense on stilts that is graduate school:

I quickly learned that…many of my professors valued paradoxical and obscure arguments. And I got pretty good at making them. In an essay on Wallace Stevens, I concluded by asserting, “If everything is nothing, then that nothingness is everything. For poetry to encompass one, it encompasses the other. When Stevens’s mind of winter descends into the inescapable nothingness of his subjectivity, he has claimed for himself the totality of everything.” I don’t know what this means. But I wrote it and I was rewarded for it.

Every minute I spent in grad school, I wondered: Do professors really believe this shit?  I’m not talking anything so bourgeois as “the truth,” comrades; I’m talking about, do they really believe that the string of words “the inescapable nothingness of his subjectivity” means something?

If so, then they’re the worst teachers on the planet, as “the inescapable nothingness of his subjectivity” is gibberish to me, and I work here!  If it means something, I surely would’ve heard it by now….?

But if it doesn’t mean anything, then what’s the point?  Graduate school is not undertaken on a whim.  It’s long, it’s hard — well, ok, it’s time-consuming — and it’s expensive, in both real money and opportunity cost.  If the point is just to lob increasingly jargonated gibberish at each other, there are plenty of atheist discussion boards and PUA forums that will serve.  Y’all can trust me on this: Nobody — nobody — really understands Lacan, Derrida, Althusser, or the rest of the Froggy Incomprehensibles.  Nobody really understands Wallace Stevens either, for that matter.  That’s because there’s nothing to understand.  They are, as T.S. Eliot — no mean purveyor of gibberish himself — once put it, the hollow men:

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Only after leaving grad school did I grasp it: The point of this stuff is conspicuous consumption.  All Leftism is.

We all know the Left has been bankrupt, in all senses but monetary, since the Sixties.  Everyone they once pretended to care about — the working class, the Negroes (as they then were), women, the handicapped, prisoners, the mentally ill — have proved, on closer inspection, to be repulsive.  Read any Leftist blog or Twitter feed for five minutes; the hate for everyone and everything outside of the author’s little slice of intersectional genderfluid heaven just drips off the screen.  As I’ve said here before, there are only two options when the souls you’ve set out to save turn your stomach: You can embrace the toilet, or aestheticize it.  Old-school Commies went with door #1, which is why old-school Commies acted like drunk longshoremen and looked like them, too:


Behind door #2, though, life is good.  The inhabitants generally aren’t much more attractive  — Emma Goldman up there actually looks pretty good compared to a typical Wymyn’s Studies prof — but the environment can’t be beat.  Nowhere is life cleaner, easier, safer, and whiter than the faculty ghetto in an upscale college town.  But… Isn’t this the very life that grubby bourgeois wannabes strive for?  There’s no sense in renovating a charming little four-bed, three-and-a-half bath Colonial in a good school district if your next door neighbor is something gauche, like a software engineer or a plumber, i.e. the rude mechanicals you’re ideologically supposed to love, but actually loathe for their apelike attachment to things like guns, NASCAR, and Jesus.

Hence the jargonized marxoblather.  Your plumber may lead a material existence little different from your own — he might even drive a slightly nicer car, and none of his fixtures leak — but he has to work for it, the poor dumb bastard.  With his hands.  He simply doesn’t have the free time to plow through the prose of a Certified Genius of Colour like Homi Bhabha:

If, for a while, the ruse of desire is calculable for the uses of discipline soon the repetition of guilt, justification, pseudo-scientific theories, superstition, spurious authorities, and classifications can be seen as the desperate effort to “normalize” formally the disturbance of a discourse of splitting that violates the rational, enlightened claims of its enunciatory modality.

This is virtue-signaling of the highest order.  Not only does it say “I am an enlightened being who knows what ‘enunciatory modality’ means,” it says, furthermore, “I am the kind of person who deals with enunciatory modalities daily.  Anybody can unclog a toilet; it takes long years of very expensive training to learn to write a sentence where you can’t even identify the fucking main verb on the first read-through.”

Seen as conspicuous consumption, all the PoMo Left’s attitudes make sense.  They love trannies, for instance, because they — the trannies — are so elaborately, baroquely useless.  If I had the kind of time and money to burn that this organism (eye bleach warning!) must have in order to maintain its fantasy existence, I’d be well on my way to owning a pro football team.  And so on down the line: The “wingless golden-skinned dragonkin” who got James Damore fired care more about fucking pronouns in a single day than I’ve cared about anything, collectively, in my entire life.  Time is the most precious commodity of all; an ocean of gold won’t buy you a single second more.  Spending all that time worrying about intersectionality tells the world that you’re incalculably rich, without having anything so vulgar as bling to wave around.

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Pop Goes the Higher Ed Bubble!

I’ll give the Hollywood hypocrites this: They’ve solved America’s student loan debt crisis.  I’m not sure which of the valid forms of the syllogism this is, but follow me here:

  • You can get anything you want in academia if you complain long enough;
  • Women are 56% of undergrad enrollments, and rising;
  • Every Liberal in America believes there’s a “campus rape culture;”
  • As #MeToo has shown, being an impeccable Progressive won’t save you;


  • we’re about to see a wave of accusations hit academia that’ll make Harvey Weinstein look like a choirboy;

and therefore,

  • Once the first wave of sexual harassment claims hit, there will be a severe labor shortage in the Ivory Tower.

And from that, adios higher ed bubble.  Are you really going to go a quarter million in hock to send your precious little Stacy off to the barn where the few remaining classes are taught (by only the most desperate job-hungry losers), knowing it’s 100% certain she’ll be almost raped?

College kids today act as if — no, scratch that, they demonstrably believe, with all their hearts and souls — they deserve a gold star and a cookie just for rolling out of bed in the morning.  They have no idea that “hard work” and “success” aren’t the same thing (and their definition of “hard work” is “putting the PlayStation on pause and only responding to the most important text messages for twenty minutes while googling up something to copy-paste”).  Anything less than an A+ is a catastrophe, and by definition nothing’s their fault, so they’ll do whatever it takes to correct this gross injustice…

… and, not coincidentally, get heaped with praise for striking yet another blow for Social Justice.  They’re all mouth-frothing Marxists, these eggheads, but not even Marxists are dumb enough to miss which way this wind is blowing.  Right now they’re at the “Denial” stage of grief — it’s only a few creepy CisHetPat white males who are getting accused, and they deserve it! — but it’s already shading into anger (I know it’s hard for the uninitiated to tell, but trust me, the shrill blue haired brigade is getting even shriller, and yeah I didn’t think that was possible either, but there it is).  What’s left?  Bargaining?  They know better — after all, they’re the ones who spent all of freshman year teaching the blue-haired nose-ringers how to dye their hair blue and pierce their septums.  Depression?  They’re already maxed to the max on Prozac.  All that’s left is acceptance…

….and finding another job.  Get ready for the Great Ivory Tower Cat Lady Exodus.  I’m penciling it in for 2021.



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Our Side of the Rhine

The Romans were a (justifiably) proud people, but they were no chauvinists.  A bare-assed, long-haired Gaul wouldn’t get very far in Roman society, but his son might, and his grandson would be as Roman as they come.  Just a generation removed from Julius Caesar, the famous three divisions of Gaul were the peaceful, prosperous heartland of the Empire.  Antoninus Pius, the most peaceful of the “Five Good Emperors,” actually was a Gaul.  The best, cheapest way to secure your borders against barbarians is to civilize them.

Caesar’s Gallic Wars is worth reading for a lot of reasons, but especially to see this outlook in action.  He, like most Romans, subscribed to what we might call a laissez-faire mission civilisatrice.  His attitude, in the parlance of our times, ran something like this:

This is the border.  You are free to be blue-assed savages on your side of it, raping and killing and eating each other to your hearts’ content.  If, however, you want to embrace the comforts of civilization, we’ll give you as much of it as you can handle.  Bring your dysfunctional barbarian shit onto our side of the Rhine, though, and we will slaughter you to the last man.

Which brings us to Black History Month (betcha didn’t see that coming!)

BHM is designed to be divisive.  Black Americans simply are Americans; Black Americans’ culture is Western Culture.  The historical process by which that happened, though awful, is irrelevant, in the same way that Antoninus Pius’s provincial origins were irrelevant.  (Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul weren’t just slave raids, but one hell of a lot of Gauls ended up enslaved).

BHM is, in fact, deeply counterproductive.  Modern life is the easiest, safest, and most pleasurable existence in the history of the human race, and it was built almost entirely by the scientific junior varsity — engineers, tinkerers, “rude mechanicals” (the truly towering intellects are all theory guys).  Judged by the B-team’s standards, George Washington Carver was an impressive dude; he did a lot with a little, and human life is better for it.  Judged as the intellectual apex of his race, though….

It shouldn’t be that way.  In this one sense only, race really IS a “social construction.”  We white folks, even those of us who are, say, Bulgarian, don’t sit around ranking the greatest Bulgarian scientists*, pissing and moaning if our top guy is three notches below Isaac Newton.  Western Culture is vast, it contains multitudes, and we all did our bit.

Now, before you start that all-caps comment about how this is just another cuckpost about Dems r tha real rayciss, please note the argument I am NOT making: Blacks are part of Western Civilization; therefore we’re all equal.  I’m well aware of the average Black IQ, and its likely implications in a highly technological society.**  The argument I AM making is: Bulgarians are no great shakes either, IQ-wise — the Italians, apparently, wipe the floor with us, if you can believe that Bologna — but since Bulgarian-Americans don’t go all-in on a cosseted, histrionic  grief culture, nobody has to pay a bunch of extra taxes, write off entire cities, and live in what amounts to a police state to avoid Bulgarian-American social pathology.  Bulgarian-Americans are happy just rolling with Western Civ.

If we want to start reclaiming Western Civilization, we must first acknowledge that we’re talking about civilization — which entails its opposite, barbarism.  If you want to come over to our side of the Rhine, I for one am happy to have you… provided you play by the rules (“having rules” is step one in the civilization process).  You may not make it all the way to the top of our civilization, but you can certainly be happy here, and contribute your bit.  Ask the Gauls… or, better yet, the Thracians.


*This being the internet, there of course are ranked lists of great Bulgarian scientists, but the very fact that these lists are created by Internet People should serve as a built-in refutation.

** Jesus, though, that list is brutal.  One wonders how the authors haven’t been reeducated to death by now.

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