Free speech is useless in a country in ruins.
Accepting the unacceptable. We all must learn to do it, they say. It’s the Gospel of all Gospels. Humility. Here we must go into the higher realms of consciousness. Those feared and revered and most hallowed of places where we learn how to bow gracefully. Where we learn our pride is misplaced. Where we learn to swallow our tears. Where we learn to stifle our voices and especially to keep with the program.
Did you learn all the right tricks? Do you still pledge allegiance to the flag on cue? Do you still believe the hollow rituals and shapeshifting lies?
Lucky you! Here’s to the happy few!
A short trip to Hot Springs, Arkansas and I’m deep in the sticks, and deep into pondering the relevance of free speech. Why? Because I realize you can’t have free speech in a nation if you don’t have free speech in your own family.
It’s more than freedom of speech, it’s freedom of thought, which begets freedom of information, which begets freedom of ideas freely circulating, because one hardly exists without the others.
We don’t have that and we need everyone to stop pretending that we do.
It’s much more all encompassing than I think most folks realize. It begins in the family, because it begins in consciousness, which is something that is exceptionally easy to limit. Especially when we are very young. A few simple lies of omission and generations are easily compromised.
Imagine what chaos the biggest lies create.
It’s happening in the micro and macrocosms simultaneously, filling up, in and through, the waters of life, saturating the atmosphere itself, all has been compromised. It would seem not just the walls, but even the air, have ears.
Through the Smart Dust?
https://zerogeoengineering.com/2024/the-atmosphere-as-global-sensor/
I learned a new word on the roadtrip there while listening to a podcast:
Iatrogenesis – from Wikipedia
“Iatrogenesis is the causation of a disease, a harmful complication, or other ill effect by any medical activity, including diagnosis, intervention, error, or negligence.[1][2][3] First used in this sense in 1924, the term was introduced to sociology in 1976 by Ivan Illich, alleging that industrialized societies impair quality of life by overmedicalizing life. Iatrogenesis may thus include mental suffering via medical beliefs or a practitioner’s statements. Some iatrogenic events are obvious, like amputation of the wrong limb, whereas others, like drug interactions, can evade recognition. In a 2013 estimate, about 20 million negative effects from treatment had occurred globally. In 2013, an estimated 142,000 persons died from adverse effects of medical treatment, up from an estimated 94,000 in 1990.”
In Hot Springs I’m headed directly to Bathhouse Row in the National Historic Landmark District, part of the Hot Springs National Park, alone, for a bit of site seeing. Back in my heavy travel days I often traveled alone and I don’t mind it, I actually rather like it, in moderation. It does get lonely, and sometimes awkward, but that’s balanced with the reality that I’ve known very few people in my life who appreciate the same types of exploration that I do.
Bathhouse Row—Where our ancestors once turned to bathing in mineral springs and walking in wooded mountains to restore health. How silly!
More online historic photos of Bathhouse Row
I like visiting odd and anomalous sorts of places off the beaten track. I like old architecture and ruins. I especially like the places where city and nature become fused.
Hot Springs, Arkansas is definitely one of those places. And so much more. Bathhouse Row was once a spa destination for the rich and famous and boasted healing springs on par with the greatest European spa cities, like Karlovy Vary and Baden-Baden.
That was definitely boasting, I’ve been to many of them. But, there’s no doubt in its heyday it was very impressive. Especially considering Arkansas has for a century at least been considered a hillbilly-type haunt in the middle of the ‘flyover states’ and certainly not a hotspot for anything, except maybe the Dixie Mafia.
But, like in so many other places, something very strange is happening with the history, and I don’t mean the tall tales of gangster stories and bizarre wax museums and outrageously lame ‘haunted house’ tours meant to sell over-priced tickets to the vaudeville-loving masses.
What I really want to know is: What are they actually still hiding here in plain sight? And how is it they are still able to get away with tearing down pristine architecture and carting away the evidence unquestioned, even in the protected area of a National Park, which is Bathhouse Row?
So I started to do a bit of digging.
“The Bathhouse Row cultural landscape is located along the foot of Hot Springs Mountain. It is identified it as one of six landscape character areas within the 18-acre Reservation Front. The cultural and natural features of the surrounding areas are evidence of the historic recreational and spa experience that have brought visitors to Hot Springs since the 1830s. Bathhouse Row is historically designated as an “architectural park” in which the buildings and landscape were designed to be a cohesive unit.”
“According to the National Historic Landmarks Program the status of Bathhouse Row was threatened as most of the historic bathhouses were vacant and are not being maintained. Some have had “damaging uses” contributing to the severe physical deterioration of the majority of the historic bathhouses. Bathhouse Row was added to the National Trust for Historic Preservation list of “11 Most Endangered Places” in 2003. It was removed in May 2007 because the National Park Service began to rehabilitate the buildings. Hot Springs National Park now rents the renovated structures to commercial enterprises who submit an approved request for qualifications. The restoration of Bathhouse Row and commercial leasing of public structures has become a model for similar projects across the country.”
In 2007 the NPS began to rehabilitate the buildings? You mean, like, these abandoned buildings I photographed a few weeks ago? Of which there were plenty more.
Very clearly not being renovated, not even a little!
So, they say Bathhouse Row will be a model for similar projects across the country, eh? My guess that is a model for how to. . . stall, defraud, gaslight, loot, and plunder, all while spinning a positive image of public care and service.
As a case in point there’s the demolished Majestic Hotel Resort Complex where I walked among the ruins.
There’s even been a documentary on the ‘controversial’ decision to demolish it by a young filmmaker who is making his career in filming abandoned buildings. He certainly has a long and busy career ahead of him! The Abandoned Atlas Foundation.
So I paid the few dollars to watch his story about the destruction of the once glorious Majestic Hotel and the (pathetically meager) attempt of a few locals to stop it.
A few interesting points I learned from the film:
The Majestic was sold for $1.00 (One Dollar) with the legal agreement that it would be repaired and reopened within a few years. That did not happen, though no problem for the buyer, he incurred no punishment and resold the abandoned buildings for a cool $2 mill. What does he care?
Our hands are tied, a few locals cry! The city is run by the mafia!
Apparently the city has always been run by the Mafia. Which makes perfect sense right, because the official story is the city went into major and rapid decline as soon as gambling was made illegal. So, we went from pristine health resort, to rich and famous gambling haven, to neglect and dilapidation within just a few decades.
My those gangsters and gamblers were sure able to fill a lot of hotels!
Seeing what an enormous challenge they had to save this architectural gem, they bring in the big guns to fend off this centuries-long all-powerful Mafia, which apparently still runs this neglected National Historic treasure that is Bathhouse Row in the middle of a National Park: An Asian ‘local’ historian who barely speaks English, a novice documentarian who waxes romantic over logoed plastic pens from a decade ago, a full-time nurse wannabe local politician, and some clueless young architecture students from another state.
Brilliant! I can’t believe that didn’t work!
The documentary does not answer any of the questions I would’ve asked, but then, they never do. Questions like:
What happened to all those red and yellow bricks? As well as all the other artifacts, that is, besides those awesome plastic pens the filmmaker found. And, where did the materials come from to build all that in the first place? That’s an awful lot of infrastructure to build into the sides of mountains at a time when local folks were mostly moving around in horse-drawn carts.
And why were They (the Mafia?) so keen on destroying it all? What do they care about some old buildings anyway, considering demolition costs are super expensive?
While the documentarian gushes at his found pens, he misses every other clue and congratulates himself and his fellows for creating an everlasting tribute to yet another ruined structure.
Poor sod, didn’t you ever learn you must . . .
Follow the yellow brick road?
“Originally named the Avenue Hotel, the Majestic was built in 1882 on the site of the old Hiram Whittington House. The Avenue Hotel was notable for its amenities such as streetcar service to transport guests to and from the bath houses every five minutes. In 1888, the Avenue Hotel was renamed the Majestic Hotel after the Majestic Stove Company of St. Louis, Missouri, though the precise connection is unclear.”
(Since it’s so unclear, good thing you chose to include it in your online information encyclopedia, such a fascinating unclear detail!)
Majestic Hotel – Encyclopedia of Arkansas
Free speech can’t save us now, because there’s not enough people willing, or capable, of speaking freely from a place of wisdom and clarity. Just look what passes for encyclopedic facts these days.
The confiscated bricks, like our confiscated history, may as well be ground into the Smart Dust eternally absorbing the consciousness of the masses.
As we watch and record the destruction of our country
As we wonder, how it has come to this
As we wait for the next shoe to drop
And the next
Still, we remain
Still
As the deer in headlights
Still
As he charmed by the snake
Still
As she alarmed by her fate
Doomed
As we watch and record the destruction of our lives
As we wonder
Still
As we stop wondering
Still
We remain
As the fox wanders by . . .
