Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Three Thoughts...

No quote today (I know you're disappointed), just a recap of some recent events and some things I've found interesting.

Let's start with something that seems to be a major problem. Domestic Abuse.

Last eve, your beloved dictator was sitting upon the veranda, enjoying the fine tobacco that is Marlboro and a lovely cup of Folger's Decaf. The night was cool, just on the cusp of becoming crisp, and a good, stiff salt breeze was blowing in from off the sea. It is times like this when Staten Island suddenly becomes still and quiet.The atmosphere is quite calming to the frazzled nerves of one engaged in the process of packing up the house in anticipation of changing domiciles.

The only thing that would have made it better would have been a gentle rain and a thick fog.

I like my autumns (I know, soon).

Anyway, this perfect moment of peace is suddenly ruined by the slamming of a car door nearby.

A few moments later, a young lady emerges from behind the cover of the ivy-draped fence that blocks my view of the street. She is slight, blond, and obviously upset. She asks if I have a cell phone that she might borrow to call her mother. The Overlord, being both gallant and a sucker for a damsel in distress, offers his.

A Jeep stops in front of my house. This is obviously the boyfriend. He stops for a brief moment, perhaps thinking he's going to do something really stupid like get out of his car to confront me, and then disappears into the night.

The Young Woman is crying and visibly shaken.

I ask her if she's okay, if there's anything I can get her, I offer to wait with her until her mother arrives and to keep boyfriend at bay, should he return. She tells me what all the hubub is about, and I promise you, she's most likely left details out for sheer embarrassment.

In a nutshell, in a fit of pique over something (she did not explain exactly what) boyfriend put his hands on her in a threatening manner. I did not see any bruises or cuts, so I don't know if he struck her, but it was sufficient enough physical assault to make her jump out of a slow-moving vehicle and ask a convenient stranger for help.

The thing that strikes me about this encounter is the repetitive phrase "I feel so ashamed" and it's cousin "I'm so embarrassed".

I reckon this is a typical reaction from a frightened female who has been roughly handled, or at least that's what "everyone" tells me. I'm told it's why they do not call for help; it's why they endure more abuse at the hands of a douchebag; it's why Dr. Phil remains in business.

I explained to her that she has done the right thing, leaving an uncomfortable situation that could have gotten quite violent, and for the love of all that's holy, she should NEVER be embarrassed when it comes to her personal safety and above all, health. As I told her:

"Embarrassed" only lasts a few minutes.

A fractured skull is forever.

Long story short, Mom arrived some 20 minutes later, Young Lady thanks me and says goodnight.

I've found myself thinking this morning, if that were my daughter in that situation I might even pray to the Invisible Dude in the Sky (as if?) that someone would help her out.

I am now full of myself for having done The Right Thing.

You may wish to stay away from me today, as I might escalate to "insufferable" at any time.

Second thought:

Recently engaged in a discussion on the topic of addiction. Having had too much experience in this matter, let me save you the sordid details and get straight to the misconceptions about this problem that the uninitiated and ill-informed continue to peddle as as if it were wisdom.

1) Addiction is not "a disease". It is the result of a really bad choice. A series of poor choices, in fact. Those choices are usually conditioned by circumstances, particularly circumstances of ignorance and immaturity and mental health issues that are often minor and easily corrected. This is not diabetes; it is not Multiple Sclerosis or Cancer. THOSE are chronic diseases. The desire to escape reality by rolling a joint is not -- that's a learned behavior.

It has been my experience that when you tell an addict s/he has "a disease" you've just given them the excuse to avoid or abandon treatment and a justification for irresponsible behavior. You've told them they're cursed by something that can never be fixed and so they simply accept being an addict, which gives them all the excuse they need to continue to engage in destructive behavior and to avoid facing their problems rationally.

2) There is no "gene" that marks someone as an addict. That old canard was some of the worst "science" ever done, and to even call it "science" is questionable. I put that outright piece of bullshit on the same scrap pile that I would put religion, for the purpose of insisting that addiction is "a disease" is to persuade the addict that their fate is beyond their ultimate control. This makes them susceptible to the sales bullshit of various "treatment programs", as well as unscrupulous clerical assholes.

In either case, the intent is to reinforce the notion that salvation is beyond the individual's attainment and control and that it is only the sainted psychiatrist or store-front Reverend who can truly "save" you, and to keep the revolving doors of "rehab" spinning -- and paying -- or to put more butts in pews to fleece for donations.

Think of it this way: if you believe that Evolution is real, and it's main goal is the survival of the species, then why did Evolution give you (and keep through countless generations!) a mechanism that is self-destructive, and typically revolves around substances that are largely produced or refined by Man, instead of by Nature?

There are no, and never have been, ponds, lakes, rivers or oceans consisting of vodka. It does not rain Jim Beam.  Cocaine must be refined. Crack is MADE, not grown. Meth is produced in an industrial fashion from chemicals that do not occur naturally. Even weed has been altered, cultivated and refined by selective methods over centuries so as to produce more-potent strains.

3) Drug use or drunkeness are NOT "victimless crimes"; it's just that the addict does not see the victims, nor care about them, in their quest to avoid dealing with Reality.

The peasant in Columbia who takes a job processing coke just to feed himself, who is then killed to keep the location of the processing plant a secret, is a victim.

The people living under the threat of continuous and gratuitous violence as cartels and street gangs fight for turf and market share, who often find themselves in the crossfire, are victims.

The broken families that are left in the wake of a fatal overdose or a drunk driving accident, are victims.

The cop who does not come home to his wife and kids because a "buy and bust" went south, are all victims.

The people killed by criminals and terrorists funded by the drug trade are victims.

The taxpayer who foots the bill for jails, treatment programs, and the economic and social unrest caused by someone's addiction is a victim.

"It's a victimless crime" is another cop-out on par with "it's a disease".

Stop spreading this nonsense and start holding people accountable for their behavior. Make them grow up.

Third thought:

In the course of a discussion with a libtard of my acquaintance, I've (re-)discovered a most-distasteful trait they all have when it comes to politics. That would be the application of a double standard in all things, so long as doing so helps them "win" an election, an argument, whatever.

The hypocrisy and selective memory makes you  want to beat them over the head with a chair.

In this specific instance, the fuckwit announced that her (it's almost always "a her") primary objection to OrangeManBad is that "he's so un-Presidential", uncouth, brash, undiplomatic, and petty. This is so out of the ordinary, so against the grain of some set of unspoken rules, as to be beyond forgiveness, and it is so "divisive" and "destructive to polite society" that even the prospect of electing a man with Alzheimer's so that the office can be handed over to a woman whose only qualifications appear to be her gender, her ethnic background and her propensity to suck dick, is a better alternative than a shoot-from-the-hip Twitter addict (Twitter peddles dopamine! All social media does) who doesn't fit the Camelot mold.

Of course, to take this position is to ignore history. You have to (conveniently) forget that the Left, generally, has tolerated sexual predators in the White House (JFK, Bill Clinton) or championed men of high infidelity (JFK, Clinton, John Edwards), has elevated the reputations of  tough-talking, ill-mannered men in the Oval Office (Truman, LBJ), has stood venal, self-interested criminals for election (FDR, Hillary, possibly Biden), and speaking of division and destruction of polite society, voted TWICE for a man who is (in-)famous for profligate accusations of unfounded racism and who once famously said the following (only slightly paraphrased):

"It's time to punish our enemies".

"If they bring knife, you bring a gun".

To suddenly clutch your pearls and cringe at the thought of a brutish rogue occupying the highest office in the land is both hypocritical and too cute by half. You LOVE brutish rogues, from Lenin on down, you worship them. Mostly because they do things you wish you could do, and probably get some vicarious kick out of their antics. If Trump had a "D" next to his name, there'd be daily parades through the bluest sectors of the American landscape on a daily basis, and even "grab 'em by the pussy" would be forgiven as simple locker room talk in the same way as "it was just about sex" was supposed to excuse immorality a generation ago.

Camelot was a construction of the Press. It never existed. And although the left continues to believe that every new lefty arrival at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave is a the rebirth of that fabled Potemkin milieu, it was never a reflection of Reality as much as a projection of Royalty, for the left wants -- above all things -- to be governed; to be told what to do, to have all power of choice and the evil of responsibility taken from it.

It's an addiction in it and of itself.

In the end, I did not kill my interlocutor (although that small act of mercy may come back to haunt generations yet unborn), but found myself recalling something I had always known and often forget, myself:

These are idiots playing at adult.

UPDATE: Fixed a spelling and a grammatical error.

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