We’ve talked a lot on here about saving Western Civilization, but lately I’ve been wondering if it’s worth the effort.
Everything that we think of as new, interesting, or progressive or whatever today’s euphemism is has been done before a thousand times. Read some old books.
It’s all so banal.
We have a tax on cigarettes to keep you from smoking, a tax on alcohol to stop you from drinking, and a tax on income to…wait what now?!
The Big Pimp Uncle Sam comes by every month to get his cut.
33% or so, depending on his mood. Once a year he cuts you a small check — enough to buy something trivial like a new video game machine. He kisses you on the forehead and makes you feel great by telling you how special you are. But you better keep paying up.
The Big Pimp Uncle Sam needs that money. He’s got programs to fund. Five hours of your life going to sew ears onto chickens, three hours to teach giraffes how to tap dance and then ten hours for kangaroos to learn about gender theory.
“The pouch is an oppressive vestige of kangaroo patriarchy!”
I saw a YouTube vlog from Somalia recently. It didn’t look so bad. People were playing on the beach. They had clean buildings with Chinese-made modern furniture, camel tea, pizza, movie theaters and prayer rooms everywhere.
“Yes, but war, piracy, etc., etc!” you might say.
Sure, that’s a thing.
But if you ask me right now if I’d rather spend my afternoon stuck in a brutalist, sterile, glass building attending inclusivity training and discussing KPIs with middle management or clutching a rocket launcher while riding a jet ski on my way to seize a cargo ship, then I say pass me a Kalashnikov and some camel tea.
Unfortunately, buried underneath America — past the Indian and settler bones, below the dinosaurs and ancient pagan temples — there’s enough oil and gas to keep this rotten Ferris Wheel spinning for a million more years.
Ghost of Geronimo, if you’re out there, drop a match into the shale oil abyss, strike a pose, Snapchat a selfie and let’s see what’s on the other side.