Herein I discuss and cite to: Hawari, Dr. Yara, The Stone House, London: Hajar Press, 2021 (electronic-copy). The Stone House was a New Arab Book of the Year in 2021. Please read their excellent Book Club review by Aisha Yusuff. Hajar, the entire team, did remarkable work in bringing the book to the public, describing it as, “A vivid, haunting tale of intergenerational trauma and survival under Israeli occupation.” It is that, and more; it will make the conscious, honest reader sad, remorseful, and very, very angry. At the same time, it will make the reader laugh, rejoice, and give thoughtful praise. Be forewarned that Hawari’s book provides an extended and tantalizing ride into the heart of human thought, emotion, and behavior. For readers of almost all intellectual or situational knowledge levels, deep learning and enhancement are offered. None of this amounts to a small feat for a novella of only 96 pages, a shorter work with a tremendous punch and follow-through. All of it is a great credit to the author. That she has accomplished so much in a debut book is astounding and speaks to her unusual skill, talent, and preternatural gifts. I discovered Dr. Hawari via her powerful writing for Aljazeera. Doctor Hawari has earned her title, undoubtedly through years of toil and perseverance, with a PhD in Middle Eastern Politics from the University of Exeter, United Kingdom. In addition to writing for Aljazeera and other outlets, she is a co-director at the Palestinian think tank, Al-Shabaka. Her expert knowledge and professional methodologies must have greatly assisted her in developing The Stone House. An academic quality, though certainly not one of the mundane ordinary, shines through each page and section. But there is something far greater at work. This is the story of her people and, more exactly, her own family. Three generations, from her father to his grandmother, are chronicled in gripping, surprising, and unsurpassable fashion. I note at the end the author herself makes a brief, twiddling appearance—a delightful kick! Her book, certainly a very personal endeavor, is important for many reasons. This was previously noted in a review for Mondoweiss by Haidar Eid, another worthy survey to consider. One thing that will quickly jump out at the even moderately aware reader is that the conjoined, multi-decade-spanning tales presented in The Stone House are eerily similar to the current-day news and commentary articles published by writers like Dr. Hawari. That is because what is happening in Gaza and Greater Palestine today, the same as has happened all of my life, is but the sad continuation of a colonial saga that has been, as noted recently by Hamas, in progress for over 105 years. The reader will painfully note the similarity between portrayed family massacres and uprootings during the Nakba and those during Israel’s current war of genocide. But across the century-plus of death and destruction, a sense of optimism, defiance, and civility never leaves the survivors, God bless them. I recently watched a micro-documentary from the Guardian that relayed the life and times of a seven-year-old girl and her family in Gaza. Their plight is bleak. Yet living out of a tent and the bed of a pickup truck, the family exhibits better familial cohesion and more expressed happiness than their average counterparts in the suburbs of the United States. Perhaps facing death brings a sense of urgency to living. Or perhaps something higher factors into the equation. Hawari’s story begins on a school bus in 1968. The author’s then fifteen-year-old father, future archaeologist, professor, and museum curator, Mahmoud, is about to embark on a journey of revelation, across a stolen, occupied country, to Jerusalem. This is Mahmoud’s story, as he undertakes his trip, in the company of other children, with his uncle, Nawaf (by chance, also only fifteen). They discuss and view their corner of the world during events they do not quite fully understand but of which they are sorely cognizant. Mahmoud glances out the bus’s window and visually greets his mother, Dheeba, who has come down to see her son and baby brother off on their excursion. Once they depart, her story begins. Dheeba, unlike her fallah (farmer) husband, is a Bedouin, known locally, colloquially as Dheeba al-Badawiya, or, “the Bedouin.” For the author, and for me, this terminology held significance. This story delves deeper into the nature of the family’s travails during and after the Catastrophe, the Nakba. When the bus leaves, Dheeba walks to her mother’s house to discuss the events of the day. With womanly talk and domiciliary horticulture, so starts Hamda’s story, the third and final part of the book, which partly relates to the tumultuous existence of Palestine before the departure of the British and the coming of official, earnest Zionist terror. The whole story covers approximately six decades, from the end of Ottoman rule, through the treacherous British period, until just after the 1967 Six-Day War or, to Palestinians, “the Setback.” The chronology is generally reversed, with various jumps between periods. I encourage any reader to belay an attempt at mentally (pre)ordering events and to merely proceed with a laissez-faire perusal; simply release conscious logical compartmentalization and let the story tell itself—which it does beautifully. In exchange, in addition to the wonderful memoir, diversified facts are presented in eloquent clarity and with an emotional, heartfelt touch. Per my habit of discussing literary “flow,” I say The Stone House moves like the River Jordan, with many twists, yet always effortlessly carrying the reader along. And just as with the Jordan, ere the end there is “salt” for the reader’s eyes and mind. Again for a shorter work, it is simply overflowing with ideas, moments, horrors, inspirations, and facets that leap into the brain and stick there. I was repeatedly struck by certain super-heterogeneous commonalities Hawari presents. John Wayne’s popularity, for instance, caught my attention and my fancy. So too did many other revelations, more than a few of which the average Westerner might not have previously considered. The story is largely set in the ancient town of Tarshiha, which the occupiers call Ma'alot or Ma'alot-Tarshiha. This titular shifting reflects the trend, painstakingly walked through by Hawari, of the Zionists renaming or reconditioning everything they do not destroy. Still, despite their worst efforts, native history and culture live on. Tashiha is and was a “mixed” town, being, the Jewish migrant residents aside, almost entirely Muslim and Christian. Many, perhaps most Westerners, certainly most Americans, do not know (or, it seems, care) that there are Christian Palestinians and Arabs. Mahmoud, his family, and his friends knew it and embraced it, a tradition stretching back many centuries. As Hawari tells around page 14 in the electronic edition, in Tashiha Muslims and Christians live side by side, getting along rather well. Young Mahmoud and his chums pay reciprocal visits to each other on Christmas and Eid. (I suspect there might be a fine dramatized or even purely fictional story or three in those visits!) There is willful ignorance, stupidity, or even wickedness at work among some of my people that have engendered, let’s call it what it is, an irrational hatred towards all Muslims and “Middle Easterners” (maybe all “others”) regardless of their religion. Mahmoud’s Christmas visits do something to gently dispel the falsehood. We have of late been treated to other such lessons of a sterner variety: Please recall the gatherings of Christians and Muslims together in Mosques and Churches over the past few months, desperately seeking Divine protection, their own comfort and company, and some degree of safety as the IDF saturated Gaza with American-made bombs. Words are weapons too. To my mind, one of the more interesting elements of the tale regards Dheeba’s nickname and ethnic status as a Bedouin. During the late Gazacaust, I have regrettably heard at least one American voice dismissively call all Palestinians, “Bedouins,” as a slur. Dheeba’s story reveals something curious though all too common about the human condition. Hawari brings up this quirk around page 35. Though leading a respectable and respected life, Dheeba is ever mindful of rife prejudices in the local native population against Bedouins and other similar, yet dissimilar peoples. She found an irony and a disturbance that oppressed people were guilty of the same kind of scandal and misdeed against their fellows. Does that not sound familiar? A Bedouin looking at a Russian and a Ukrainian might note little outward difference between the two Slavs. A Ukrainian observing a Hutu and a Tutsi would likewise struggle to differentiate between the Africans. The Tutsi in Japan might see a monolith of people. But we, each in our little groups and sub-groups, sometimes see differently, more keenly, do we not? I found this short passage and its sentiments disquisitive. As a traditionalist, I find some time-honored means of classification helpful in maintaining tradition. But little reminders like Dheeba’s do raise the suggestion of the helpfulness of an introduced decorum, especially towards those of our closer ethnos. In addition to her daughter’s brand of introspection, Hamda’s grim resolve is presented in a daring, hilarious form. The stone house, the structure, not the title, was stolen from the family the way nearly all of their country was converted away by the Zionists. However—never doubt a woman’s ingenuity—Hamda finds a way to force their way back in and forge a temporary reclamation. I leave the exact wind-blown plot to the reader’s discovery along with any independent investigation into the Draconian legal processes the story highlights concerning Zionist land dispossession. Having examined what passes for Israeli real estate law as it concerns Palestinians, I can attest to its convoluted, thieving, and self-serving character. Throughout all three stories, a pertinent concept is portrayed with great allocution: Inversion. Without reading The Stone House, one may be independently aware of what it means concerning Palestinians and Israelis. The occupiers are always presented as the true heirs of the land, only returning to claim what was always theirs. Palestinians are ever presented, almost universally, as terrorists. Any objection to either of these tenets, in addition to being criminal in some jurisdictions, is said to be “anti-Semitic,” a ridiculous assertion and a twisting of words and truth beyond belief and meaning. Hawari uncovers yet more malicious reversals. One unfounded myth is that the occupiers brought civilization, water, and life itself to an otherwise desolate, barbarian land. The truth is the opposite. Another popular fable has it that the “good” occupiers have always attempted to normalize relations with their backward, terrorist victims. The truth is that for their generally kind welcoming of the Zionists, Palestinians have been robbed, raped (with sexual violence used as a dehumanizing tool and crime of war), murdered, and displaced, with some coercively faux assimilated into a kind of third-class (dys)civic existence. Through the eyes of her family, Hawari presents these contradictions of reality in a manner simultaneously dialectic and stirringly narrative. Along with them, she presents several great betrayals and disconcertions of her people and of the good moral order by, of course, the occupiers, but also by the deceptive British, the great powers, and even by other Arabs. She also imparts wonderment. In answer to great abomination, the Hawaris and their kin return a constant fortitude gilded with cordiality, fiery righteous spirit, and a zeal for life. Even ordinary personal interactions—such as two women bonding over factory work—convey a pleasantly contumacious independence, elation, and trust. There is a curiosity on every page. Via these little miracles, once again we are reminded of the importance of literature and its ability to conceptually connect across time, cultures, and circumstances. Hawari has joined a select list of story and truth tellers. The inversion of reality, the rank misplacing of atrocities, is in ways akin to the wicked habits of King Zahhak in Ferdowsi’s Shahnameh, the ruler who consorted with Deevs and dark spirits only to accuse his adversaries and subordinates of the same so he might rob them. The tale of modern Palestine has a similar presentment to that of the Elves and Men of Beleriand, holding the faltering line against Morgoth while awaiting war and deliverance as told in Tolkien’s Silmarillion. So far bereft of the aid of great heroes and powers, counting only the contributions of Hezbollah, the Houthis, the Republic of South Africa, and a few others, the Palestinians continue to hold out, endure, and believe. Masterfully told, theirs is a startling and novel tale, if of a nature we’ve elsewhere read glimpses of before. Yara Hawari’s work is a rare find. To me, it is very much like the historical books of Erik Larson which read like novels. Hawari’s storytelling, dramatization instead of pure fiction, replete with records and insights, is every bit as good, as sound as The Devil In The White City or In The Garden Of Beasts. I was also impressed that she included, without explanation, a suggested musical playlist of songs the reader likely has and has not heard before. Had I but one word with which to summarize the entire story, it would be “breathtaking.” For the foregoing reasons, I heartily endorse and recommend The Stone House. This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on February 7, 2024.
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Only one month in, 2024 has delivered more action on multiple fronts than many previous years have in twelve. Today, we’ll briefly examine two major developments that may be more related than most people would imagine: the showdown between Austin and DC, and the ICJ interim ruling on the Gazacaust. The story of the Palestinians is that of an oppressed people, overrun by invaders, and facing genocide. The story of Texans and Americans is much the same if less acute. Even Yemen’s Ansarallah sees a kind of similarity. I stress these happenings are highly fluid and may change between the time I submit and schedule this article and the time of one’s reading. TexasThanks to luciferians like Emanuel Celler and Ted Kennedy and a thousand other traitors, the GAE homeland has essentially been without borders since 1965. Over the ensuing six decades some 100 million people have poured into the former United States. This being a fake election year, people once again notice the flood, even unusual functionaries like NYC Mayor Eric Adams. Being somewhat realistic, I’m tempted to say that once again nothing will be done. The events of last week, however, appear to say otherwise. On January 24, Texas Governor Greg Abbot issued a stern declaration and warning to Washington regarding the porous southern border with Mexico and DC’s willful failure to secure the same: Twenty-five State Governors signed a joint statement supporting Abbot. Andrei Martyanov correctly noted this is probably the hard beginning of the disintegration of the former US. He knows, having written a great book about the collapse three years ago. Not caring what the CIA thinks, I have almost no idea how the US’s fake news media has reported on these events. However, the sometimes borderline hysterical, though sometimes alarmingly accurate WarNews247 gave Texas at least two civil war-themed headlines recently: here and here. This map, with the Texas-supporting states in red, has been making the rounds: As a future geographic model, it’s far from perfect. But it does begin to outline discernible regions and groupings. If one likes playing the Rorschach game, then one is free to imagine a host of rump states. Or not, not yet, perhaps. This thing is still aqueous and developing, so there is no telling exactly how it will play out, even before or as this column is published. But it portends a trend that will likely see the former US break apart sooner or later. The breaking process will probably involve civil war. In private correspondence last week, I hastily considered a few of the near-term moves Abbot and whatever controls fake president Brandon could make. War, invasion, and military order necessarily involve troops. Currently, Abbot has the Texas National Guard at his disposal along with his law enforcement agencies and some troops provided by a number of those other sympathetic governors. “Brandon” would be unwise to attempt using the Border Patrol or other imperial police agencies to force Texas’s compliance with the invasion and tyranny. Police forces of all kinds have a dismal historical record against military units. There has already been talk of whatever rules DC nationalizing the Texas NG in an effort to deprive Abbot of his army. If that happens, things could get interesting and hot in a minute. Abbot and/or his commanders could refuse as could individual units or servicemen. If the NG is successfully nationalized, there will still be the other NGs present in Texas at Abbot’s disposal. Given that this is now a declared invasion, with the possibility of legal State-led warfare, Abbot is free to call up, arm, and deploy the Texas State Guard which is fully and permanently under his control. The TXSG, like that of any state, features an inactive reserve component composed of all male Texans between the ages of 16 and 60. That’s a lot of Texans and most of them are already armed, many of them are angry and ready to roll. We could quickly see a scenario where two (or more) armies face off in a GAE state. This has happened before, and more recently than in 1865, though it is still murky territory. I would say, “legally murky,” but the law has really ceased to mean much more than a rifle can make of it. The GAE has regular troops at or near the border, though they do not defend it. Loose rumors have it that many of them are prepared to defect to Texas’s side if push comes to shove. Texas has the beginnings of its own sovereign currency and the potential of self-sufficiency. We’re suddenly facing many of the issues Terry Hulsey covered well in his recent book on Texas Secession. There are other possibilities, leading right up to secession and declarations of martial conduct between Texas (maybe other states) and DC. I told someone in an email that the several states could and should “flip the script” on Lincoln’s war rationale and declare the federal government in rebellion against the states and the Constitution. But whereas Lincoln’s actions were painfully wrong and illegal, would-be inverted assertions of the current states are perfectly legal and factually accurate. The bad news is that the states at issue are under the control of Republicans, known to be as spineless as jellyfish, less intelligent than aquatic invertebrates, and many of them less attractive. (Their sting is usually reserved for their constituents.) Time will tell, but things are moving in a certain direction. Speaking of time, I am not particularly concerned about the precise chronology of such matters as I have long ago contemplated and addressed what’s happening now. Nearly six years earlier, I specifically recommended invaded states invoke Art. I, Sec. 10 of the old parchment. Better late than never, I suppose. Now men like Abbot need to realize that in addition to absolute legal authority to make declarations, they have the right and responsibility to take follow-through actions, up to and including waging real, hot war. For fun and to tweak the Clowns, they could call it their Special Military Operation! If Americans notice these events and are concerned by them, then they should consider and admit that their lazy insouciance brought about such potentially dangerous times. Whether any of them want to attend or not is irrelevant as this party has the possibility to come to them wherever they are. Oddly enough, their strange, mildly wicked, and generally stupid actions and inactions have helped generate the backstory for what’s now happening in Palestine. The GazacaustIt is now safe, legal, and most proper to refer to what the Occupying Zionists of Israel are doing to the Palestinians as genocide. The label has always factually fit, though now it is also the appropriate juridic description. Last Friday, the International Court of Justice issued one of the most important and stunning rulings in living memory in the case of South Africa v. Israel, wherein South Africa alleges Israel is committing genocide against the Palestinian People. The case was filed in December and may take years to sort through. However, with its interim order, the ICJ made extraordinarily heavy statements. Please read this binding, unappealable order in ENGLISH or FRANÇAIS. For the literacy-challenged, the order was presented verbally in open court in both languages. The ruling was made, depending on the sub-issues, on a fifteen-to-two and sixteen-to-one basis. The case was not dismissed as Israel argued was appropriate. The ICJ declared it had jurisdiction to consider the material issues at bar and that South African was an appropriate party to raise them. It also declared that the Palestinians are a distinct people afforded protection under international genocide conventions. Without directly addressing the ultimate issues, though strongly hinting they are sustainable, the court made it plain South Africa has presented overwhelming preliminary evidence to back its genocide claims. What is plainly observable in Gaza looks very much like the evil conduct addressed by the conventions. The justices noted that language freely and openly used by senior Israeli political and military leaders appeared to match the asserted claims and that they are eerily comparable to the known events on the ground in Gaza. The court also expressed extreme concern for the safety and existence of the Palestinians, considering their plight so dire as to not admit delay. While they did not, perhaps at this point could not order Israel to end its war of genocide, they nonetheless ordered Israel to end its warfare as it at least risks genocide. Specifically, the court ordered provisional measures as summarized herein (presented sans slip citation and vote tallies):
I cannot remember in my lifetime such a strong, public, and official dressing down of the Zionist Occupiers. The court also ordered Hamas to immediately release any hostages held in Gaza, which is well, wise, and just. As of the time of my drafting, a brokered hostage release plan is under tentative development. That is important as is the fact that Israel killed another 174 Palestinians on the day it was ordered to stop killing. While the rest of the Middle East continues to heat up, they’ve killed more since; Hamas has released no hostages. In a bygone era of American legal history, President Andrew Jackson, in response to a Supreme Court ruling he disliked, once allegedly quipped, “Well, [Chief Justice] John Marshall has made his decision, now let him enforce it.” Without concurrent executive action, courts generally lack the ability to enforce their decisions. The ICJ is no exception. Like the former US and the UK, Israel is “agreement incapable” and has a habit of doing as she pleases, the legations be damned. Evidence, beyond Friday’s additional killings, indicates this case is no exception. In the event of (further and continuing) Israeli noncompliance, there are various measures that South Africa can take to compel enforcement. Violations and delays may be readdressed in court and the court is free to make additional rulings, including commanding Israel to completely abandon its war of extermination. Still, words on paper are only words on paper. The next stop, as the ICJ is a UN court, is the Security Council. The matter is already set for UNSC consideration on Wednesday, January 31. There, the former US and the UK can and probably will attempt to thwart justice. They’re already trying to end humanitarian funding to Gaza as a retaliatory move—against the world’s court’s wisdom. This is fascinating because the wicked heathens who preach nonstop about an “international rules-based order” are now confronted with an international order based on the rules. For now, all they can do is have their bootlicking jackals lie and echo about “the silliest verdict ever handed down by a respectable court in the entire history of jurisprudence.” Har, har, har! Yuck, yuck. If they think that’s funny… Events will unfold as they will. The oppressed victims in Gaza are far from being out of danger though they have scored a substantial technical victory over their oppressors and murderers. In the end, it may be up to one or more powerful nations of the world, perhaps a BRICS+ country or two, to more forcefully intervene and put teeth into the ICJ’s declarations and commands. But one BRICS+ country has already done so much more than any other nation in the name of truth, justice, and human dignity. In many ways, this is South Africa’s finest hour. May God bless the people of the great, rising star of the African Continent. Thirty years ago, as an American, I could have never seen this moment coming. Closer to today, it was a little easier to conceive. Last year, as South Africa chaired BRICS, I advised watching President Cyril Ramaphosa’s leadership for various reasons. I did not foresee the events concerning Gaza, but for his part, Ramaphosa has masterfully risen to the occasion. Great credit and praise to him! Standing with him is the wise and noble Naledi Pandor, Minister of International Relations. Undoubtedly, they have worked with the leadership of other African and BRICS+ countries in devising and prosecuting their case. They’ve also had the assistance and powerful legal prowess of Wikus Van Rensburg, Esq. and a team of other attorneys. Palestinians will remember the valiance, brilliance, and humanity of South Africa for generations. The world will too. Both of these stories are developing, the other boiling fronts too, so maintain a watch of honest, non-MSM resources for updates. In closing, I address three (really four) generations of one particular Palestinian family, the Hawaris. Barring all-out calamity, my next column will be a formal review of The Stone House by the luminous, brave, and beautiful Dr. Yara Hawari, an incredible true fiction novella I read on Saturday. Pending my summary, I encourage all to go ahead and give her book a study. For so many reasons, many directly related to the foregoing matters, it is well worth the consideration. Deo vindice. This piece was previously published at Perrin Lovett on January 31, 2024.
The global conflict is real and so is the sub-war on our colleges and universities. At this time, on the academic front, I think we have to give the winning edge to our evil enemy, at least at the organized, institutional level. Pretty much every official, credentialed, bromidic school in the West is under terminal attack or, more likely, has already fallen. But the enemy’s scope ranges wider; herein I will briefly examine the methods of warfare used against higher education in the GAE homeland and Occupied Palestine, particularly besieged Gaza. One will note the strategies and tactics used are slightly different. GAE (USSA/OCSA/maybe Canada)As in most of the West, all levels of education, along with all facets of civilization, in that strange, nation-shaped kind of place between Mexico and Canada have been under vicious assault for over a century and a half. First and foremost, the nature and purpose of delivered education have changed and have been diminished extraordinarily. The cause shifted, intentionally, from learning for learning’s sake, to docile cookie-cutter denizen worker production, to mass retarded immiseration factory operation. A huge part of this shift came through the destruction of the quality of the curriculum, in the colleges and at the lower, earlier levels. Gone are the days of college freshmen entering schools already knowledgeable in rudimentary mathematics and fluent in English, Latin, and Greek. Now we’re lucky if the gender-confused “scholars” can speak at all or wear clothing. You’ve seen this. I’ve written about it. Thanks to the stellar recommendation of “Boo, the Beautiful” (YBB!), I turn this portion of the discussion over to the esteemed Dr. James Kibler, English Professor Emeritus, UGA. Kindly watch, learn, and maybe weep. Pay attention to what he says about utilitarianism. He’s 100% correct, except that now all utility and any need therefore is gone. In its place, one finds a mire of debt, idiocy, lunacy, discontent, and hopelessness. As part of the enemy program, somewhere along the way—somewhere maybe around or just after the end of World War II—someone presented the grand idea that college makes people smart and, thus, as many people as possible should attend and gain degrees. The people, being a whiff above rock-stupid, bought it. Back in 1960, approximately 180 million warm bodies were shuffling about between California and Maine. Then there were just shy of 6 million ‘Muricans enrolled in our colleges. As of 2020, by which time the reporting metrics were already in a world of hurt, the suggested number of homo sapiens taking up space in our collective madhouse had risen to over 330 million. Yet by then, college enrollment had soared to 19 million. Muh-trick-u-la-shun had done gone up by a factor of 3+ despite the fact the general population had not quite doubled. No doubt, looking back to, say, 1940 or 1950, would indicate an even greater disparity. Someone once wrote, “all men are created equal.” They are, in fact, not. Between yesteryear and today, despite the drastic rise in the quantity of college students, the intellectual quality of those students declined. In 1960, the average US college graduate possessed an IQ of 112.3. In 2010, the average college IQ had fallen to a flat, norming average of 100. This roughly matches the collapse in Canada, where the current average college IQ is only 102. Alarmingly, the number of college students with sub-90 IQs is increasing, a trend that will see the general college average sink even further. This is, in a word, “bad.” A few words ‘bout ‘Murican IQ in general: According to World Population Review, the GAE has an average IQ of 97. Not bad, but not great. However, I sense that WPR has an agenda that artificially boosts some national scores while lowering others. By my own crude distribution analysis, I calculate the GAE average to be somewhere between 90 and 93.25 (and falling, per Dutton and Woodley, at the rate of .4 points per year towards the world average of 82. (Smart Boys: It had just ended when Flynn noticed it nearly 50 years ago.) Let’s call the GAE average 93 for happiness’s sake. As with college student scores, the overall average has declined by two-thirds of a standard deviation over the past 70 years. Why? Because, domestically, smarter ‘Muricans do not reproduce, and virtually all foreign imports are of subaverage intelligence. B-A-D. It won’t be long before the average GAE college student, on average probably a “healthy” “diverse” woman who may not even know she’s a woman, will have the same low IQ as the general population. And the dead country will be awash in degrees, graduates, and students who have—listen to Kibler—been taught precisely nothing. Yes, I am personally aware of the exceptions, particularly as to elite STEM engineering programs (which are also under attack). Now, consider the ridiculous costs involved. In or around 1952, a year of then-somewhat-useful study at Harvard cost about $600. Today, the same course of instruction, devoid of the useful part, costs over $60,000. That’s roughly a 10,000% increase. The rise is somewhat similar for most schools coast to coast. I can hear the math-challenged shrieks about the payout. Yes, individual incomes have risen from about $6,000 then to $30,000+ today. Some might sense the one percentage increase falls just a little short of the other. This is—read any of the books I’ve recommended over the past year—one effect of the mass financialization of the GAE. There’s no fixing it short of completely destroying the fake debt, fake money, and those who foisted the ruin on us. In short summary, Western, ‘Murican college degrees are generally overly plentiful, prohibitively expensive, and academically hollow. Someone did this as part of a war plan. Someone is doing something similar, albeit by other methods, in Gaza. Occupied GazaWhereas WPR has a vested interest in making fat, stupid ‘Muricans feel good about theysefs, it likely has an opposite agenda regarding the people of Palestine. Hence, WPR reports the average Palestinian only boasts an IQ of 77. One who’s been watching the show lately will sense this is wrong, an undercount. One is correct. A 2014 meta-study of several previous surveys, one including the work of the late Richard Lynn, utilized real testing metrics via the WISC-R to arrive at a “British” equivalent average Palestinian IQ of 85. In this case, “C” testing is as or more appropriate than “A” as Palestine has a rather young population. I find this assessment more reliable than WPR’s suggested 77, indirect justification of my GAE over-reporting wariness, and being more in line with observable facts, statistics, and trends in Gaza. Using the approximate Gaza population of 2.3 million and Lynn, et al’s 85, I made a swift judgment as to the approximate number of potentially college-educated and college-eligible Gazans. I came up with an outside maximum of about 383,000 (because division and hasty estimation). Right now, given what’s happening thanks to motherfu—, uh, talking demons with names like Netanyahu, Graham, and Blinken, I suspect the number of Gazans actually attending universities and colleges is about zero. I found it difficult to get any reasonably accurate estimate of total enrollment before October 2023. Gaza is (or was…) home to about a dozen colleges and universities, though I suspect there are (or were…) a few more of the technical or two-year variety. I know the schools ranged anywhere from community colleges to full doctoral research facilities. A UN program suggested some nebulous program accounted for, pre-10/23, some 291,000 students, though the level was unclear from my high-speed skimming. Based on the 20,000 students (previously) enrolled at the Islamic University of Gaza (IUG), multiplied by the estimated number of total schools, I came up with a quick mental number in the 240,000 range. It stands to reason that, before Graham’s “leveling” commenced, Gaza had 200-300,000 college students. Coming off of the Nakba and 105 years of occupation and warfare, the college system and population in Gaza are young with, I suspect, a majority of those of collegiate potential currently being students rather than graduates. I am not exactly certain. And again, today the number of active students is probably close to or exactly zero. I’ve never been sure if the Occupying Zionists of Israel were the tail or the dog, nor whether it mattered, but they are assuredly attached in some integral way to the GAE. As part of their boiling front in WWIII, they’ve unleashed literal genocide against the Palestinians, especially those in the narrow, restricted, impoverished confines of Gaza. Part of this sub-war is a sub-sub battle against Gaza’s colleges. On this front, the Occupiers have gone the traditional route and they’re bombing and blasting the hell out of colleges the same way they do houses, apartments, businesses, lower schools, BOOKSTORES, hospitals, Mosques, Churches (yes, Cleetus), utilities, food stocks, refugee camps, aid convoys, the media, and everything else. Know that when the Occupiers do this, they use GAE-supplied weapons just like the Ukranazis do when they shell Russian kindergartens, fruit markets, and skating rinks. U-S-Gay! U-S-Gay! U-S-Gay! Now, I just know one or more of the brainless, heathen Republican’t presidential candidates has already denounced it, but if one hasn’t heard, IUG’s president, Dr. Sofyan Taya, was murdered by the Occupiers, along with his wife and children, in a REFUGEE CAMP(!) last December. They are but four of the 25,100+ Gazans slaughtered in the Gazacaust genocide that has seen 70,000 wounded, 1,000,000 left hungry, and 1,900,000 made homeless and/or displaced in a little over three months. Of course, in a pathetic sense, there’s no need for a university administrator when the university has been demolished. Many or maybe all of Gaza’s colleges and universities have either been damaged or destroyed since October. Please watch this exciting video of the IDF “bringing justice” to the “terrorists” by bombing Israa University the other day. Please note that our enemies have essentially done the same thing to 99% of GAE schools with less dramatic tools. I lost the exact link, so letting the previous one stand, here’s a recent education-related quote from Aljazeera:
Godspeed, Ms. Hijazi, and after this is all over, do consider switching to Russian, Mandarin, Persian, or another civilized language. If all of this makes one sick, then good. Those in the dying GAE, just stop attending and supporting the charade of doom. Those in Palestine, please continue to pray, endure, and resist. On a personal note, I don’t care if they’re Muslims, Christians, Druze, or something else; I now see all Palestinians as my brothers and sisters. For those doing this to them, who have done this to us, know that you will not win this war in the end. Just as you cannot escape my weak little digital pen, you will not dodge the mighty avenging sword of Saint Michael. Deo vindice! الله أعظم! PS: Music Minute: For a boost, here’s Shaman’s new deliverance and faith-themed “ЖИВОЙ” aka “ALIVE.” PPS: Latin matters: I’m reading through Holly Ordway’s Tolkien’s Faith. She notes the professor was fully fluent in Latin and that he took umbrage at the nefarious changes of the fraudulent Second Vatican Council. In righteous rebellion, when the congregation switched their responses to vernacular English, Tolkien merely continued to answer in Latin—very loudly. Also, there was lately a minor discussion of the best Prime Minister the UK never had, Enoch Powell. Powell spoke and read Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic, along with about a dozen modern languages. Evidently, his mother taught him basic Greek in only two weeks. These great men were exceptional, but they are also exceptionally inspirational. This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on January 24, 2024.
Those four words were how Gonzalo Lira signed off from his geopolitical correspondent videos. He made the final one last summer while on the run towards Hungary and the hope of political asylum. He didn’t make it, as many of you know. In that video, in which he predicted that literal death awaited him if his plans failed, his last message to the public was, “Please don’t be indifferent to my fate.” This is my effort, part of my continuing effort, to not be indifferent to Gonzalo’s fate. Last week we learned he had died of preventable pneumonia while being tortured awaiting trial in a Ukrainian prison for utter bullshit charges of supporting Russia’s actions against the corrupt Zelensky administration and the satanic Werewestern powers behind him. Gonzalo was a US citizen and what passes for the government in Washington did nothing to help him. Had he been a lesbian basketball druggie, then as sure as Jews dig illegal tunnels under their Synagogues, the US would have secured his release. As-is, we can add Gonzalo’s name to the long tally of casualties in the GAE’s war on journalists and the truth, part of its greater war on life and civilization. Gonzalo ran a partial list on his social media accounts. I’ll add a few more. Julian Assange, who did nothing wrong and everything right, has had a decade of his life ruined and a fate similar to Gonzalo’s hangs over his head. Shireen Abu Akleh, another US citizen, was murdered and her funeral procession was attacked and the US did nothing. The US did nothing as Paris and DGSI rounded up journalists accused of exposing the truth about the GAE’s murderous attacks on Yemen five years ago (not the ones last week). The US did nothing and said nothing about the extremely suspicious car bomb that killed Daphne Caruana Galizia in Malta in 2017. It did nothing (except maybe gloat) over the car bomb murder of Daria Dugina in Moscow in 2022. It does nothing, other than provide targeting information and bombs, as the Zionist occupiers of Palestine, as part of their greater genocide, exact the worst mass killing of journalists in recorded history. One may recall that many Americans were arrested, tortured, and railroaded for walking into their own Capitol building a few years ago out of dire concerns a coup was in progress. None of this is new territory for the GAE. Bane of the old republic, Abraham Lincoln, used to march soldiers into newspaper offices to silence truth or opposition. He issued arrest warrants for Supreme Court Justices. And he deported Congressmen. All that was okay because something, something about slavery—just ask the witch Nimarata. Alex Christoforou, Larry Johnson, and others who knew Gonzalo have delivered admirable tributes to him. One of the first eulogies I saw came from Michael Lebron, aka “Lionel,” which you can watch here. Like me, Lionel did not know Gonzalo. I’ve been using his first name because, as Lionel alluded, he came across like a friend. And Gonzalo’s simple messages resonated with both of us as they did with most people. While lamenting Gonzalo’s death and the general collapse of critical thinking in the US, Lionel reminded me of another victim in the GAE’s long war, Jose Padilla. Lionel noted that back around 2002 when the empire dragooned Padilla without charges or due process, people sat by and did nothing. While his assessment is generally true, it isn’t 100% accurate. A point of personal pride for me is that I spoke out against Padilla’s treatment and the greater threat to all Americans during the summer of 2002. I did this in Washington with a gaggle of boot-lickers from the DOJ and/or State (I can’t recall exactly after all these years). As you may know, nothing came from my protest other than my loss of popularity among evil-doers (praise Jesus!). Still, I like to think I’ve tried to do my part to help some people know what’s going on. There’s a lot going on in 2024. Most of the important happenings do not directly concern the insouciant American people because they absolutely refuse to participate or in any way try to help themselves. If they were moderately aware, they would know that one little group after another is kicking the GAE aside and marching deeper into a prosperous Twenty-first Century. The world is leaving dead America and its vassals behind. Soon, Brandon or whatever controls Brandon will probably steal $300-700 billion in illegally frozen Russian sovereign funds. One or more of your retarded queer Sinators or TeeVee babbling heads may brag about this when it happens. They’re both evil and stupid. BRICS+ will convene in Kazan in October, and Russia will likely use the theft to drive the final nail in the coffin of SWIFT, the Petrodollar, and the fading GAE dominance of the world economy. No intelligent people will risk their funds being stolen by lunatic satanists when a perfectly viable civilized alternative system is offered. I’d say watch what happens, but most Americans won’t regardless. They certainly won’t think about sending a representative to Kazan, even or especially those proud agrarians from Dixie. In fact, then as now as ever, words like Lira, Padilla, Kazan, Petrodollar, and BRICS will be lost on the masses. And it is all their loss. Gonzalo Lira—viewing him as a brave hero or a crazy fool or just another name one can’t bother to look up—did his small part trying to spread a little thought in a largely braindead world. Requiescat in pace, frater. And thank you for all you did. Know what’s going on. This post was published at PerrinLovett on January 17, 2024.
Things being what they are and with me feeling as I do, there is no column this week. No apologies. Instead, I offer two reading suggestions. The first is Scott Ritter’s 2022 book, Disarmament in the Time of Perestroika: Arms Control and the End of the Soviet Union. I’m about one-third through it and I can say it’s fascinating. Scott is a fine writer and did several cool things. First, he took an otherwise “dry” subject and made it interesting. Second, the book is full of a not-too-distant history of a kind to make Generation X a little nostalgic. Third, I think if he had added a few more personal details and interactions about and between the various characters he walks through, he would have come close to Erik Larson’s style of history that reads like a novel. Give Disarmament a read and see what you think. The second item is South Africa’s ICJ Proceedings Application for a genocide investigation against Israel. From page 30:
Read the whole thing. And many thanks to SA for doing something, anything, while most of the rest of the world sits by doing nothing. More from me, later. Deo vindice. This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on January 10, 2024.
Greetings, American friends and those in the wider world. Happy New Year!
At the outset, allow me to observe that there is an election coming soon. I'm going far out of my ordinary and endorsing a politician. Some say the 2024 presidential election is one of the most important in the country’s history. I happen to agree. In these very turbulent, transformative, and challenging times, intelligent and proven leadership is critical. Therefore, I heartily endorse the re-election of President Vladimir Putin. As for the former United States, while no one is certain about what this year and those further ahead offer, we are reminded of the old saying that, “Things are not as bad as you think, but they’re going to be worse than you can imagine”. Whether it’s today, next month, or five years from now, buckle up. The ride is about to get rough, bad, and ugly. How bad and ugly? Recall if you will the 2018 Deagel Forecasting prediction of a US population decline of 70% by around 2025. While that rate of death and the timing might not be accurate, they could be or they could be very close. In my estimation, the US’s simmering civil war started in earnest when Donald Trump was elected in 2016 in the remains of a country already collapsing. It represents one relatively quiet front in the current global war, which we might as well say started around 2014 when the CIA overthrew the Ukrainian government. As WWIII went “hot” and became noticeable in 2022, so too will the domestic American fun heat up before long. The when, where, who, and how are still speculative, so I’m just focusing on the kinds of warfare the US will witness. There are three levels of the conflict which will happen. They are certain because, to one degree or another, they’re already in progress. There is a fourth level that may or may not happen and which I classify as “somewhat unlikely”. One through three were originally formulated by me for Freedom Prepper three to four years ago. The speculative fourth is added after two years of outside discussion. Make of these what you will. Level One: The Street By and large, this involves violent crime. A LOT of violent crime, everywhere and all the time, at least in many populated areas. It will be a free-for-all without end that will make Big Floyd’s 2020 Summer of Love look pleasant and tame by comparison. Criminals will operate individually, in pairs, in small groups, and in larger gangs. The local police will lose control and eventually give up. This will be ongoing for the duration and will likely merge, especially regarding the larger, more organized gangs, with the next level. Level Two: Organized Terrorism For as long as Big NGO, Inc. can keep funding them, the better known organized violence groups will run wild. National gangs and militias of all kinds will also participate. The Mexican Cartels will possibly play the most pronounced role, along with the rumored “illegal armies” that have poured into the US over the past few years. Two things, I think, may surprise outside observers. First, the ballyhooed White domestic terrorists will be proven a figment of Merrick Garfinkle’s imagination—at least for a while. Second, foreign terror groups, particularly those of the Islamic variety, will mostly be a no-show. Most of the latter were fraudulent CIA-FBI creations anyway, and any legitimate or organic cells began to read the tea leaves several years ago and wisely started vacating your collective madhouse. Some of the groups at this level, perhaps especially the Cartels, will possibly be drawn into the third level. The various state police forces, armed federal agencies, and the National Guard—all of whom will fight a losing battle in level two—will be necessarily drawn into the following level as well. Level Three: Full-Scale State Warfare The disintegrating remnants of the federal government will go to war with states, parts of states, coalitions of states, and everyone else as the former USA truly, finally, and permanently breaks apart. This level will involve elections, politics, court injunctions, protests, civil movements, and just kidding. No, it’s going to be heavy artillery bombardment, heavy bombing, medium to long-range cruise and ballistic missile strikes, and some of the sloppiest continental maneuver combat ever seen in history. This phase will finish off such luxuries as electricity, running water, gasoline, money, and store-bought food. Once it is over, and by then levels one and two will have fizzled out, not much will be left. Tens or scores of millions of people not previously killed kinetically will die due to starvation and disease. There’s only one way it gets worse, and that is if your Neoclown overlords do the unthinkable. As all three lower levels eat away at everything, the former US will be caught in a “doom loop”. It already is, in fact. Its total defeats abroad will exacerbate problems domestically, which will add pressure internationally, which could lead to a level of “bad and ugly” near the edge of extinction. Level Four: Nuclear War and Foreign Occupation I only include this because multiple outside parties are discussing it with some degree of realism. Your real rulers are evil enough, there is no question. Once they know they’ve lost everything, they will be wicked enough to attempt burning down the rest of the world or, at least, their chief international enemies. What makes this option unlikely is the pathetic, laughable state of US nuclear devices and the required delivery systems. It is entirely likely nothing will work. It is also likely that if launched, nothing gets through air defenses, especially in Russia. In the event something does land, it could be a dud or else cause only limited damage. But just the attempt, with or without success, would trigger a massive retaliatory strike from China and Russia. Sino-Russia forces would near-instantaneously eliminate what remains of US military and political command and control along with any remaining energy, financial, communications, industrial, and transportation systems. The sovereign forces would then sit by and wait for the US to completely exhaust itself at the aforementioned levels. Once all parties are finished, millions of Sino-Russia troops, probably with ringers from North Korea, India, Iran, and elsewhere, would sweep the tattered, burning US wasteland. If pushed to it, they will overturn every rock and knock down every door to find any survivors of the wicked elite who launched nuclear warheads without cause or provocation. Those people will either be summarily executed or else hauled away for trial. The foreigners will then promptly leave any of you who made it through to your fate. Do not look for much outside humanitarian assistance. WWIII will still be in progress elsewhere and Americans are not extremely popular for various reasons. There’s no point in further estimation because no one knows exactly how much of this will play out. It could be a decades-long slow burn that people notice but do not necessarily associate with open warfare. It could be over by next January. In any case, the results will be the same. The US will cease to exist as an empire and a coherent political entity, and the battered American nation, such as it is and ever was, will be a much smaller remnant struggling amongst many peers, none of them in good shape. It’s not coming, it’s in progress. And nothing short of the Second Coming can stop it. I’ve previously given preparation advice and there is little reason to repeat any of it now. Be as ready as possible for any possibilities. The very good news is severalfold. Future historians will have a marvel of a case study without equal, the tale of a people who cast aside all promise and prosperity in exchange for absolutely nothing. The world will be free at last from the oppressive darkness of the Global American Empire. Survivors in North America will be free from one of the greatest evils since the fall of Sodom and Gomorrah. And those survivors, of all kinds, will be given the opportunity to construct new nation-states atop the rubble and ashes of the dead hegemon. Hopefully, they will exercise slightly better judgment than their predecessors. A high hope for a new year. Deo vindice. Most intelligent Americans have, I think, accepted that the mainstream corporate media of the West, a tiny yapping lapdog of the controlling Matrix, is only a haven of lies, propaganda, and falsified hysteria. Now at the end of 2023, I have essentially purged all MSM news sources from my daily reading. I have no further need for lies and fairy tale foolishness. It has been somewhat fun calling out or merely observing the lies as they flow forth. Right now, the general press is turning somersaults to conceal the truth about the genocide in Gaza and the nature of the rather successful Houthi blockade of the Red Sea. Back in the summer of 2021, at Freedom Prepper, I had a good time using reading skills and math to pick apart narrative nonsense about the fake pandemic and the real bioweapons war. I recall a particular headline that proclaimed the vast majority of one US state’s C-hoax cases and deaths were among the DNA unpoisoned. Adding only the state’s population to the numbers provided in the story, I was able to determine the truth was the exact opposite—93.58% of state X’s C-hoax hospitalizations and deaths were among the fully poisoned. So it goes. Until recently, even as I began to shun WereWestern reporting, I did somewhat enjoy reading assorted letters to the editors of various American newspapers large and small. That habit too I now lay to rest. I simply do not need the input of most Americans. And I have noticed a disturbing trend in and among all those letters. Udo Ulfkotte in no uncertain terms showed us how the MSM generates or repeats propaganda on behalf of the intel agencies of the Dark State. We’ve also caught detailed glimpses of how various disinformation or “troll” campaigns work regarding matters domestic and geopolitical. I think I see something very similar at work at the local papers of America via so many letters of concern written over the years. I was moved to write about this phenomenon by one last letter from a paper in a Southern state. It’s not worth directly linking to, quoting, or fully addressing. But it makes or helps make my point. That last letter concerned economics, basically asserting that any increase in the minimum wage causes price (and possibly general) inflation. It was a local yokel regurgitation of idiocy I have read before. Regarding monetary, fiscal, and financial matters, there are paid experts at the top, in the commercial banks, the Fed, the BOE, and the BIS, who know what’s going on. They know because they’re the ones doing it. And reporting the truth simply won’t do. Therefore, they craft all manner of lies and deceptions in a way similar to how the intel agencies spin geopolitical issues. They pass these on to the worthless degree factory schools of economics where the ideas are further falsified by other, lower experts. These experts pass the “news” to the MSM. The MSM duly misinforms the gullible public. A select minority of the public recycle the garbage into letters to editors of dying papers of little value. As with the C-hoax story before it, the last letter’s own figures disproved the author’s hypothesis. If state Y raises its minimum wage by 10% over a period, and during that time, food prices increase by 50% and housing prices double, then something else is obviously at work—something like the final effects of mass financialization. I don’t doubt the author’s sincerity in wanting to help. Nor do I overlook the possibility that his and other such letters may grow organically. Awash in disinformation and wanting to do something benevolent, it is possible letter writers may repeat the lies they’ve been told as purely independent and individual courses of action. However, what suggests something deeper at work is the constant recitation of the exact same words and phrases in all the letters concerning any given topic. To me, it looks like someone devises scripts and somehow disseminates them to the writers. It could be a paid project like the intel agencies’ oversight of the MSM. Or there could be dedicated public interest groups who trot around giving lectures and talking points to civic organizations. The talking points invariably conceal the truth and act as diversions from genuine issues of concern. However this process happens, it works and it is not good. Maybe you’ve noticed something similar. If you continue to read local, regional, or national papers, please be on the lookout for any and all scripted performances. Keep in mind that even if they are entertaining, this is real life and not a movie or a play. Next time, in the Happy New Year(!) perhaps, we’ll address a few structural issues soon to visit heavily upon American society. A good time will be had by some. Deo vindice! This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on Dec. 27, 2023.
~A Tom Ironsides tale by Perrin Lovett~ ~~Christmas 2023~~ Vrubel Hall, the Hotel Metropol, Moscow, a late afternoon in December… Tom glanced around the wide room for a moment as he thought. ‘It is,’ be began again, ‘in a sad and ironic way, an inverted or worsened retelling of part of the original Christmas Story. We have some similar players and oddly reminiscent circumstances. My evil, dying US empire stands in for Rome. He, damn him, the worst leader in their malicious history, is doing a fine job portraying Herod. But instead of just killing the baby boys, he’s murdering all the children. And everybody else. Two thousand years ago, Augustus was rumored to have said, Melior est porcus quam princeps. That is, kind of, it is safer to be a Herodian pig than a son of the tyrant. Of course, our stand-in emperor is a pathetic, half-dead moron who can’t even walk and lick ice cream at the same time. But maybe this explains why the new client king’s own worthless son is hiding out in Miami. Who knows? At the risk of causing an international row, I will say that I would simply love to hack the despot’s head off with a dull axe.’ The gathered fans of multipolarity had quickly grown accustomed to Tom’s blunt and seemingly angered speech that night, punctuated with odd side discussions with and to himself. Most of them chuckled heartily at the notion of bitted justice even as they considered the painful truth behind the historical comparison. Tom continued: ‘So that is that. And thank you, Pericles, for asking. Now, before I forget, I was told to tell you, sir, on orders of Dr. LeFleur, who declined to make this trip in person, there is virtually no will to act or interest in your plan or plans. He said, and I almost agree with him if not entirely, that the cause is not dead, but the spirit is, with the people soon to follow, and that you should simply proceed independently here. I take it that the last part would be the concurring advice of the beautiful woman, surely your Aspasia, next to you.’ He tipped an imaginary hat and continued wrapping up his comments. ‘See,’ Pericles said quietly to Julia. ‘You’re my Aspasia. Any man with a classical background can see it.’ ‘And this classical man,’ she noted, ‘he has, his good looks and obvious wit aside, murder in those cold steel eyes.’ ‘To quickly readdress your inquiry, young lady, from, is it Moscow Twenty-Four? While the US is still dangerous as any large mortally-wounded predator can be, its days of genuinely asserting its will to dominate the planet are thankfully coming to an end. Even in my time, there was nothing in the way of coherent operational planning and strategy. Just a never-ending series of ill-defined tactical actions, none of which ever accomplished anything lasting. I’m sure you report daily or weekly their deteriorating stupidity. All they have are jaded word spells long devoid of any power. Forget a strong national military foe. They can’t even, directly or by proxy, compete with Hamas, the Houthis, or Los Zetas. The only people still in fear of the American monster are the gelded, bedrugged, illiterate American people themselves. And so it goes.’ Tom waved politely to the reporter and a few other people, and then the homicidal vision suddenly took over as he locked eyes with a man standing by the doors at the back of the hall. The man was older, gruff-looking, and wearing a cashmere overcoat atop a brown suit. The two men stared at each other for what began to feel like an eternity. As the crowd alternately observed them and a rumor of disquiet started to sweep the room, Tom raised an outstretched finger toward his opponent. ‘Is the music still good?’ he asked unflinchingly. ‘We are all good people,’ the man replied in husky Russian-accented English. An open-mouthed smile of sheer joy took Tom. ‘Give me one second,’ he said in a cross between a shout and a whisper. Then he directed his final words to the audience. ‘That concludes my bumbling presentation, my friends. Now, as Michael Hudson was unavailable, it is my honor to turn the podium over to my friend, Dr. Todd Vispoli, who will speak of matters monetary and economic. To all, I extend my warmest thanks for the invitation and the most gracious reception imaginable in this most marvelous city. Thank you, Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year, one and all!’ After shaking Todd’s hand and patting his back, Tom merrily hopped off the short platform and veritably bounded towards the man by the door, ignoring a smattering of outstretched hands and well wishes en route. The men looked at each other intently for a moment, then, foregoing a handshake, embraced about the shoulders. There followed a hushed private conversation. The other man, likely twenty years Tom’s senior, a kind of healthy, vibrant elderly to look at, was stocky and a little short in comparison to Tom’s looming presence. Still, as Tom kept his head lowered, the two continued speaking eye-to-eye. Soon, Tom led his apparent friend back to the table, where Larry had just pulled up an extra chair. ‘More wine, please, spasibo,’ Tom said to an attentive waiter as he and the man took their seats. He then pointed around the table, making hasty introductions. ‘This is my Carmyn. And my baby brother, Larry, and his much better-looking better half, Darla.’ As a light chorus of “hellos” and “privets” echoed about, Tom said to the man, ‘and you. I have never known your name!’ ‘Leonid Zhirinovsky,’ the man said with a smile. ‘Forever to my family, Papa or Uncle El-Zee. To my friends, Leo.’ ‘Leo!’ Tom exclaimed. ‘So many years later, now I know.’ The table looked on expectantly and Tom renewed the introduction. ‘Leo, here, was part of my KGB escort on my very first visit to Moscow so many years ago. When was it? Eighty-eight?’ ‘I think Eighty-seven, perhaps,’ Leo said. ‘Eighty-seven, then.’ ‘Way back then,’ Leo explained, ‘we knew a contingent from the US State Department had come to the American embassy with a following of military officers. We were unexpectedly tipped off, that fateful afternoon, that one young Marine officer was about to be dispatched on foot into the city. We did not know his purposes or much else about him. Tall and young was about all they told us.’ ‘It was the end of the first do-nothing day,’ Tom added. ‘And they just told me to go out on the town and enjoy myself. So, never having been here and wanting to see all I could, I did.’ ‘He wore his uniform right out the door, out the gate, and onto our streets!’ ‘I didn’t want to waste a second changing, so I just hit the pavement in my service greens!’ ‘He cut quite the impressionable swath that way. And made our identification so much easier. Some of our girls and women were intrigued. A few men were dismissive. Most bystanders didn’t know what to think of him, roaming about and looking into every shop and cafe with all that silly, cheerful American banter.’ The two roared with laughter at the memory. ‘I had gone a few blocks when, I think the car—that older black car—kind of alerted me. Like, oh, boy, they're on you! You and your partner were walking, following me on the other side of the street. And you both hung in there as if to subtly announce that was what you were doing—following with a purpose.’ ‘He waved to us and jibbered in happy English.’ ‘All I could think of,’ Tom said. ‘I do recall you merely nodded in acknowledgement. Your friend never did or said anything.’ ‘He was a partner, not a friend.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘He died during the dark Nineties.’ ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that.’ ‘I wasn’t.’ ‘Stone cold, you guys,’ Tom said with a cough. ‘At least my night didn’t end up like the Mama Anarchy lyrics treatment!’ ‘So, you did investigate the songs?!’ Leo asked with a hint of surprise. ‘Of course,’ Tom said. ‘How could I not?’ Leo, his face softened considerably, looked around at the perplexed faces. He sipped cabernet and then said, ‘so your husband and brother, here, he kept snooping for some time. Kept us walking. Roundabout, he lurked into one of our monitored back alley rock clubs. It’s not terribly far from where we sit. A food order delivery service company now, I think. Anyway, we all had the pleasure of seeing the end of a KINO concert thanks to our intrepid Jarhead.’ ‘The music did lure me in,’ Tom said. ‘Sounded really good even as I couldn’t understand a word. The doorman sized me up and just waved me into the club. I think you two might have scared him.’ ‘Is that when you met Viktor Tsoi?’ Larry asked. ‘It was,’ Tom said. ‘One of the best endings of a concert I ever heard. He must have seen the uniform and was curious. We exchanged pleasantries. Nice guy. All of them appeared nice. Such a loss a few years later.’ ‘At the end, we moved outside and waited,’ Leo said. ‘Young Lieutenant Ironsides came out and I asked him, is the music good?’ ‘And for whatever reason, I just nodded and said, and we’re all good people,’ Tom added. ‘So that explains the tense words,’ Carmyn interjected. ‘Yes, lovely Misses Larke-Ironsides,’ Leo said. ‘And I have been meaning to ask you. Around the turn of the century, an American television show about ancient Greek gods and goddesses became popular in Russia. I remember this one lovely goddess, a vicious warrioress, who entered battle with a startling ululating cry…’ Todd was just making his way to the table when Adrestia’s war call shook the room. As more than a few people panicked, he staggered up to find Tom’s gaggle in stitches. Leo was pounding the table. ‘Nice, Carmyn,’ Todd said. ‘We’re all awake now. And thank you, Dr. Tom, for paying such close attention.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Yeah, so I used you and this morning’s bank exchange trip as an example. Five times I called out for your opinion, but all I got was some murmurs about a uniform and a band or something. I was like, hell with him, but it does still work thanks to the BOR. I then briefly discussed Anton Siluanov’s recent mission in Beijing and what it might portend for any real Americans who want to survive and thrive and so forth. I tried to think of your father-in-law’s full name but couldn’t remember, and I couldn’t get your attention. Think he’d be interested?’ ‘Don’t know. Stanley’s a little pessimistic these days, uncharacteristically so,’ Tom said. ‘To think, for once I’m the pro-Southern nationalist firebrand of the two of us. I’m sure the situation will reverse again. I’m a Cottonmouth! But, now, meet my old pal, Leo!’ ‘I think they say, Diamondback,’ Todd said. ‘They say, Copperhead,’ Leo corrected. Todd was brought up to speed on Tom’s prior semi-licite wanderings about Moscow. Then, as the conference ended, the small group made their exit from the hall. Todd issued a vague promise about dinner and headed for his room while already dialing his family back in Ohio. Carmyn and Darla were intent on shopping and winter wonderlanding, and departed for a quick powdering of noses, grabbing of coats, and assorted girl talk. Larry joined the two cold warriors for a happy parting drink at the Chaliapin bar. Thirty minutes or so later, as he joined the women, receiving his and Tom’s overcoats, he didn’t hear the old friends’ final quiet words. ‘It was sheer luck I remembered your name,’ Leo said. ‘And that I heard it concerning your talk today. I listened, happily, mostly from just outside the door. With all the talk—and I see the matters weigh heavy upon you, old man—I wonder. In fact, I have a hypothesis. Do you plan to use your unique skills in the great battle for the soul of the failing West? Beyond noble classical education, of course, I say. Do you mean to perhaps violently start righting some of the wrongs?’ ‘Start?’ Tom asked. ‘No. I mean to continue.’ With a knowing look, a boisterous laugh, and a firm handshake, they parted ways. Tom joined his family in the lobby by the doors adjacent to the snow-covered Fontan Vitali. ‘You have that Tom’s-up-to-something look,’ Darla said. ‘I’m up to spending quality time with loved ones in Red Square!’ he answered in a voice merrier than it had sounded in a day or three. ‘Anybody up for GUM, the market, and maybe some skating? Maybe some dandy iPhone Christmas tunes?’ As they made their way outside, Larry said,’ I’m ready for it all. Including a preview of this effigy-burning tradition. Is it the good doctor again this year?’ ‘Him and a female friend!’ Carmyn said. ‘Tom made a second doll like a witch wearing a South Carolina flag.’ ‘The political trash!’ Darla said. ‘Everyone hates that wicked neocon Jezebel.’ ‘Howya gonna do it this year, babe?’ Carmyn asked. ‘The fireplace again?’ ‘Oh, no,’ Tom said. ‘Too pedestrian. And let’s cross the street now. No, this year, I have a new toy for the job.’ ‘What kind of toy?’ Larry asked as they skipped along the snowy street. ‘My ninety-two dollar homemade cardboard kamikaze drone!’ Tom said with more than a little pride. ‘Down at the shooting lane, Mehr-Bear will love flying it into those two straw wretches!’ ‘Less than a hundred bucks, Bubba? And you made it?’ Larr asked. ‘Yep. Old boxes. Tape. Little motor and some throwaway phone parts. A delta-wing pusher. That’s the inert price, of course. We’ll be using as a warhead a little bottle of poor man’s napalm for the ceremony this time. Otherwise, for roughly twice the price—no need to pay ten thousand dollars to some two-bit Aussies—they’ll be armed with, say, TAT—’ ‘Tom, Tom, Tom,’ Carmyn said with a laugh. ‘Only you. And, we noticed it went from it to they. How many have you built?’ ‘No enough,’ Tom said. ‘But enough of that. Let’s walk and shop and maybe throw snowballs at each other. Enjoy the good mood. I’ve never seen anyone do decorations like the Ruskies here.’ ‘It is lovely,’ Darla said. ‘A shame the whole world can’t look and live like this. I’m fixating on your Christmas Story analogy. Sad.’ ‘It is,’ Tom admitted. ‘But there’s always hope. The original version kicked off with a good news message from the Archangel Gabriel. Maybe soon we’ll get a martial follow-up word from Saint Michael.’ He paused a minute while they walked, evidently trying to remember something. ‘Ah!’ he exclaimed. ‘That thought and something Leo said reminded me of the missing Republican Senator.’ ‘He certainly puts the sin in Senator, that homo,’ Larry said. ‘No one misses him, I’ll warrant.’ ‘Why did you remember him?’ Carmyn asked cautiously, almost perceptively. ‘The liars at FOX and News Max haven’t told the tards,’ Tom said, ‘but just before he disappeared, the Russians issued an arrest warrant for him for war crimes related to the SMO.’ ‘Aaaand—’ Carmyn dared. ‘And I have to turn him over to the GRU or the FSB or someone,’ he answered. ‘You know where he is?!’ Darla asked. ‘Yeah. He’s in the cargo hold. With us the whole trip,’ Tom said. ‘Forgot all about him when we met with customs yesterday. Hope he’s comfortable. No Boy’s Life magazines like he’s used to, uh, reading, but I did leave him an electric blanket and some water. Hope there was enough air in there for the trip at altitude…’ Three voices oscillated between gasps and chuckles, and Tom added, ‘and, if anyone asks, he was in his present condition when I grabb—when I found him. Right? Better yet, we’ll just say nothing and let them sort it all out. Now, for some fun!’ And as the wider world turned in its usual turbulent fashion, the happy foursome ventured to GUM, Red Square, and other central points. A decent amount of snow fell. Night settled. Relatively nearby, an unnoticed lispy voice moaned from within a handsome trijet hangared by the general aviation tarmac. Further away, children and grandchildren prepared for a reception, a ceremonial flying bonfire, and other Ironsides-esque festivities. And with Christ’s Mass, New Year’s, and the Feast of the Nativity approaching, some semblance of peace took to some of the smaller corners of the world. THE END Postscript: This story wasn’t the most Christmasy I could have thought of, perhaps, but it was the best I could do. Or, it was what I did—and certainly worth the reader’s good money. We came perilously close to a cancellation, things being what they are. But that wouldn’t have been right. A sigh of relief, eh? As always,Postscript: This story wasn’t the most Christmasy I could have thought of, perhaps, but it was the best I could do. Or, it was what I did—and certainly worth the reader’s good money. We came perilously close to a cancellation, things being what they are. But that wouldn’t have been right. A sigh of relief, eh? As always,Postscript: This story wasn’t the most Christmasy I could have thought of, perhaps, but it was the best I could do. Or, it was what I did—and certainly worth the reader’s good money. We came perilously close to a cancellation, things being what they are. But that wouldn’t have been right. A sigh of relief, eh? As always, MERRY CHRISTMAS! счастливого Рождества! С Новым Годом! Editor's note: If you want some more of the "Southern James Bond," Dr. Ironsides, read Perrin Lovett's novel The Substitute! Christmas is coming. Therefore I thought of telling a few true tales from Christmases past. This is instead of another report on the usual that I just couldn’t do or a short story that ran the risk of a kind of contamination. This may end up being another excuse for a column, but it should be a good one. If I remember correctly—and it was almost fifty years ago, so the memory is a bit fuzzy—it was Christmas Eve the week or so before the house almost burned down. Nineteen Seventy-Something. Family had come to visit and it was a warm and swell time while it lasted. Very small me was informed, as children sometimes are, that if I went to bed and slept soundly, Santa Claus would visit and leave presents! (Maybe you’ve heard something similar?) I promptly went to bed and dozed off thinking about the old poem and hooves beating on the roof and a loud, jolly, “Ho, ho, ho!” Deep in the dark hours, perhaps after Midnight, I awoke because I heard what to my young ears sounded like hooves pounding away on something nearby. And while it might not have been “Ho, ho, ho,” loud words were being spoken. ALL excited, I hopped out of bed and peeped out the door. In the hall, all the lights were on. And all the adults were gathered around the door to the guest bedroom which was adjacent to mine. There was a general excitement about something though I can’t say it was the jolly kind. At that moment I didn’t know that someone (no names, no one reading will know and most who do know are dead!) decided it would be fun to take someone else hostage with a knife! Lost in my happy innocence, as I watched my dad and uncle break down the door, I gleefully asked, “Is Santa here?!” The adults paid me no attention. On my own, maybe when the men carried someone (love ya!) out kicking and screaming, I decided it was a false Santa alarm. About that time, Dr. Wilson rolled up in Mrs. Betty’s sedan, the men placed someone in the back and sat on her, and off they all went to the hospital for some Yuletide sedation. I must have gone back to bed. In the morning, while I can’t remember any presents from Santa, I’m sure there were some. Later, the family departed early. And a few days later, unless it was the next year(?) (or the preceding year??? One of them…), the house did catch on fire. No, for somewhat obvious reasons, I didn’t really meet Saint Nick. But after all these years, I still find the episode hilarious. And it’s more kind and friendly than the Christmas most children in Gaza can probably expect this year. There were going to be a few more, but I’m suddenly worn out. I will point out that in Christian Russia, Ded Moroz or Dedushka Moroz (“Дедушка Мороз” ~ Grandfather Frost) comes to bring all the good Russian children presents. By the way, I’m informed that all the children in Russia, like all of them everywhere, are good. While some or many may observe Christ’s birth on December 25th, the Orthodox emphasis is on the Commemorative Feast on January 7th. I’m told Ded Moroz comes around, in between, on New Year’s Eve. I’m not sure if that is to separate the Sacred from the secular, but I kind of like the whole scheme and plan to investigate. How would a Western Christian transplanted to a place like Moscow react to and treat the calendar differences? Well, if it was me, I plan to celebrate both dates and every day between them! Here’s an astounding walk-around look, from last year, of how they celebrate the Christmas Season, Red Square style: Here’s a preview of the surrounding streets this year: Now, we’ll close with a little Christmas music minute! Next week there may or may not be some Christmas fiction. Stay tuned. Бог - наш защитник. Hello, all. Looking back at things I wrote four, ten, or nearly twenty-two years ago, I have mixed feelings. I’ll for now keep those to myself, but with perhaps infrequent exceptions, I will cease writing about practical American political affairs. It’s like being a veterinarian that specializes in dinosaurs—sounds cool and all, but… Over four years ago, I wrote an article called “Only A Dictator Can Save America.” My (admittedly dangerous) suggestion was highly implausible in the summer of 2019. In the final month of 2023, it’s too late, out of time, and gone with the wind. Back then, I wrote: “the United States Empire … nears its predictable end; it currently collapses at free-fall speed. Even now, wicked useless elites scramble to suck out what value remains while their scavenger hordes descend upon the rotting shell.” That was fifteen years after Vox Day correctly called America an unfixable corpse. And it was before Big Floyd’s summer of love, the COVID hoax, the stolen election and coup, NATO’s suicidal losing war against Russia, Judeo-”Christian” support for genocide for Greater Israel, and all the other signals and signs the United States is well and truly over. And it is. And it should be. American women are now encouraged to practice literal satanism to murder their children—and you know many are doing so. The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah 2.0 approaches, though one hopes there are still a lot of Lots around. Maybe it’s in that valiant spirit that even now it appears some good people want to try something—anything—to hold the old line. Today I had planned to discuss a new non-political (political) movement in the U.S. I mentally waffled all over the place deciding whether to do it for three reasons. First, I greatly admire this movement’s leader, a truly good man, and my review skews a little realistic. Second, while some of their policy statements are just wrong and others are slightly misguided or misdirected, others are great and I think the group means very well. Third, as futile as I perceive the attempt is, if it gives good people just a little hope, then there is more than a little merit in it. I decided to plow ahead regardless, mindful there are no legal or political solutions to America’s many and generally self-inflicted problems. Here follows a review and macro-assessment, not a condemnation. OCOC is the acronym for the new semi-political cultural movement Our Country Our Choice. I learned of OCOC the other day via a link from Lew Rockwell or Ron Unz. It is my opinion that while very well-intentioned this movement is potentially destined to go the way of the Tea Party, MAGA, “Q”, and the 1607 Project. The decent-sounding ideas put forward by OCOC and its honest, heroic leader, Col. Douglas MacGregor, would have better served the Peak America of 1965 or earlier. They would have still had some chance of success twenty years later, though by then, the US was in dire need of pull-out-all-the-stops emergency domestic military action. Those of you who were around then know we didn’t get it. And we won’t. OCOC presents a solution for a society that no longer exists. And it fundamentally misses the very categorization of that society. The key to understanding why is found in OCOC’s founding Statement: “OCOC believes that the three pillars of civilization are equal justice under the law, cheap energy, and freedom of speech.” While not as bad as it could be, that belief is wrong. The US is no longer observably American or Christian. It was not founded as a Christian country. Rather, it was constructed as an Enlightenment ideological experiment by predominantly pseudo-Christians, neo-pagans, and Freemasons. But it was, upon a time, part of Western Civilization, the heir of the (even back then) failing British tradition. The three pillars of Western Civilization are Christianity, the Greco-Roman legacy, and the heritage(s) of the European nations. Take away one element and the civilization ceases to be Western. Take them all away, as is the case with the postmodern US, and the subject civilization itself fails. The US no longer has any semblance of law and order. As such, notions about fairness under what passes for the law are misplaced. Cheap energy is vitally important for any advanced society, but it is not a critical component of the existence of that society. Free speech is an Enlightenment lie and trap designed almost exclusively to weaken and destroy Christian law and culture. To see this explicitly stated by a leading proponent of Enlightenment evil, read A History of Freedom of Thought by J.B. Bury (Cambridge, USA: Henry Holt, 1913) (yes, that J.B. Bury). Bury writes: “[F]reedom of thought, in any valuable sense, includes freedom of speech.” He then praises the paganism of ancient Greece as an example of and for the postmodern, anti-Christian future:
That was, of course, during the Fifth Century BC, which Bury calls the “age of Illumination.” He extolls the luciferian concept of the “supremacy of the individual conscience, as we should say, over human law.” He goes on to slander the Christian Church as well as the “reforms” inflicted by Luthor and Calvin, going so far as to lie and blaspheme:
In discussing the Christianization of Imperial Rome, he stupidly asserts: “in a State where Christians had the power there would be no tolerance…” And he wraps up with a few moaning examples of how, even as the devil’s progress progresses in the early 20th Century, vestiges of Christian culture still linger in Europe. One such bemoaning: “The recent rather alarming inflictions of penalties for blasphemy in England illustrate this point. It was commonly supposed that the Blasphemy laws, though unrepealed, were a dead letter. But since December 1911, half a dozen persons have been imprisoned for this offence.”
Over 100 years later, the empirical truth is plain to see. Freed of their oppressive blasphemy laws and Christianity in general, how well do England, Germany, France, and the United States fare? The truth is that in the absence of Christian control, there is no tolerance. I didn’t mean for this to turn into a mini-review of Bury, but doing so illustrates the point of the danger of “free speech” and of making the same a pillar of any civilization. And I do not think Macgregor and his fellows are Freemasons, Enlightenment-mongers, or in any way evil. In fact, elsewhere in OCOC’s various statements and propositions, there is hard evidence to the contrary. For example, in decrying the persecution of Christians today, OCOC amazingly condemns the IDF for murdering Christians in Occupied Palestine. And under their “Defend Our Children” section they dare state a great if terrible truth: “Be aware that pedophilia is being normalized and inducted into the [SIC?] Stand your ground! (When a gay chorus sings “we are coming for your kids,” we should believe them. Some law makers are even trying to make pedophilia legal.)” Either of those honest statements is enough to make the ADL scream, “Anti-satanic!” That’s good. With other matters, the views, beliefs, and approaches are a little muddled. For instance, OCOC is 100% correct that the Federal Reserve should be abolished. It will be, and hopefully soon, by monetary gravity and nature. But whether legally or naturally destroyed, its elimination erases, mitigates, or changes some of OCOC’s other stated goals concerning things like debt levels, federal spending, and taxation. All of these issues are moot points at this extremely late hour. It’s good and very well that MacGregor says OCOC is not overtly political and does not support or try to curry favor with any Democrats or Republicans. No side of the Uniparty would have anything to do with the movement other than to try to subvert it or maybe have it prosecuted for hate crimes. Really, everyone knows that. It’s because the entirety of the American political structure is dead. And that is because the entirety of American and Western-American culture is dead, a product of the death of the prevailing Western identity of Americans. As such, there is no reason to try to influence the dead politics of a dead country. What OCOC should instead foster—and I think they have a good chance to do so—is the redevelopment of the concepts of God, family, and Christian community that MacGregor champions. Christian men and women should deeply consider how America fell and who led the demise. The answer to all related questions, whether concerning debt, pedophilia, or open borders, is the same. At a certain time and place a notion of vengeance inserts itself. OCOC should also accept that as America is no longer American, Western, or Christian, the otherwise valid solutions they suggest will not be accepted by all US residents or occupants nor will they work universally. Whether or not anyone understands or likes that the US is done and is breaking apart is immaterial. It is, it should, and no human endeavor can stop the process. Everyone’s ultimate focus should be on rebuilding something new and better in the rump states that will form over the next decade-plus. There’s great potential beyond the great upheavals and I suspect all good people will want to participate in the grand developments. On a personal note, I am happy to reveal I have completed my Thorongil Testing of the American people. I have the results and will, by my actions over the next year or so, make them and my related decisions public. Great news! Going forward, marching steadily toward 2024, we’ll have some more excellent fiction in this space. That will—or should—include another Tom Ironsides Christmas special. Don’t miss it. Deo vindice. |
AuthorPerrin Lovett is a novelist, author, and small-time meddler. He is a loveable, unobtrusive somewhat-right-wing Christian nationalist residing somewhere in Dixie. The revised second edition of his groundbreaking novel, THE SUBSTITUTE, is available from Shotwell Publishing and Amazon. Find his ramblings at www.perrinlovett.me. Deo Vindice! Archives
April 2024
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