What do you think? Have you had a personal experience of transformation through art?
I wrote my Master’s thesis on social engineering in 90s, before I had any idea what social engineering was. I didn’t know at the time that’s what I was writing about. The thesis was about women writers of francophone West Africa using their novels as a means to catalyze social change. Liberation through literature, I called it, where practices like polygamy, female genital mutilation, and lack of educational opportunities were voiced in fictional form by the otherwise voiceless.
Certainly it is not at all uncommon for writers to use their works toward such ends. And yet, something about the timing of my thesis, or perhaps the content, resonated less with others than I expected.
I found that instead ‘Art for art’s sake’ had become the more popular mode of the times and works that were considered to be ‘too pedantic’ (which seemed to mean any fictional work with a purpose other than sheer entertainment) were heavily criticized.
I tried for years to pitch similar ideas for publishing to various entities and could find no interest and quite a lot of criticism. Folks wanted to be entertained, not taught. If they had to learn something, they wanted it tightly obscured in a bubble of excitement, like a Dan Brown novel.
But times seem to have changed again and authors and artists with a serious message, with deep societal concerns, seem to be able to find, or are perhaps themselves creating, a growing audience hungry for their transformational content.
It reminds me of some of the criticisms I heard in the 90s—art is not meant to transform or educate, but rather has the sole purpose to simply express the subjective worldview of the creator. Any feelings of universality in a work of art is essentially meaningless coincidence. Art should not be held in the clutches of meaning-making. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Art cannot be personally or socially transformative, except to the artist himself, that is an establishment myth of conformity.
I even had an artist friend, with an art degree, who assisted at a gallery, try to insist to me that the glass flask full of the artist’s excrement (I’m not joking) was to be considered art just as much as any old famous painting.
So I’m very pleased to see this more recent ‘re-formation’ to art with purpose. But, I wonder, can it actually be transformative? Or were all those critical voices in the 90s correct?
What do y’all think?
Here’s a couple of amazing pieces which might have such power. Do you know of others to share? If so, please do link below!
In Shadow: A Modern Odyssey
Kingdom
These works are both by: Lubomir Arsov and you can find an excellent interview with him here:
The Hate spewed in this tirade is not politically motivated, nor is it the result of biases toward any ethnic group, nor gender-oriented ideology nor philosophy, nor tribe, nor nation, nor social collective, market, herd, country, continent, school of thought or fish, sea or sea-adjacent, corporation, cooperative, nor any other type of group, at any time in past or present or future.
This will be Hate directed squarely at specific individuals, mostly for their overarching idiocy, blind obedience, gaslighting or other dainty bullshit* and general full-fledged and undeniable assholery. These would be individuals for whom my disdain and contempt has been building, decades in some instances, seconds in others.
This is not your average rant or shitposting. Therefore it will be organized in proper form, beginning with Silver level Hatred, then proceeding to Bronze level, and ending with Platinum.
In no way can my Hateful Epic Tirade be confused with a real Hate Crime, of the variety of famous (or infamous, depending on his audience), Mr. CJ Hopkins, currently awaiting his second trial in New Normal Berlin. That’s because real Hate Crimes are against groups, particularly those groups with a shitload of power.
Mr. Hopkins deserves his prosecution for so hatefully opposing many such VIP groups. Too many to count surely, but most certainly he is an enemy of the totalitarian State by any measure. He made a grave mistake of criticizing it repeatedly on various public forums and a great many suffered for his actions, so there must be strict punishment.
Besides, any satirist worth his salt should spend time in prison, it’s like a rite of passage. It will ultimately improve his work, so I hope he understands it will be worth it. That is, if he lives long enough to get out. And even if not, great satirists often get even funnier after they’re dead. It’s mystical or something.
But I do not like the idea of spending heaps of sums (which I don’t have) on attorneys, or the threat of a ruined career (too late) and jail time (been there too) by being hateful to any group, powerful or otherwise.
Therefore I’m focusing my Hate directly on the individuals who engendered that hatred by their own actions, or lack thereof.
Before proceeding I’d also like to clarify that my hatred does not extend to violence, nor to the threat of violence. I want to make it perfectly clear that while, yes, I am indeed armed, I am not dangerous.
Furthermore, I’m a terrible shot and get frightfully nervous and shaky when alarmed, and I probably couldn’t manage to shoot a pair of balls at close range, eyeballs or otherwise.
So, to get on with it!
The Silver Level Hatred is awarded to my neighbor, Herr Blackheart. His crime is being a belligerent idiot. Idiocy is one thing, we all have to tolerate it regularly, this is part of the invisible social contract no one signed.
Belligerent idiocy is common as well, but it’s far more dangerous. Herr Blackheart is bullying and condescending and adolescent and has the social graces of a shanked hog.
And he has the infuriating gall to go on and on about the pristine air quality of our skies!
I can only assume he means in comparison to the slums of New Delhi in winter. Otherwise he might have earned a Bronze or even a Platinum award for the level of Hatred he was able to inspire in me.
A man so willfully blind he laughs out loud as he yells about his army of friends in the aviation industry, who all (shockingly) tow the company lines: Chemtrails are a conspiracy theory! Geoengineering is not real! You are a crazy lady! Stop bothering us!
And furthermore, weather modification is awesome, so there!
Some day we will control the weather and he who controls the weather will control the world!
YEEHAW!
Moving on.
The Bronze Level Hatred is awarded to my former dentist in Arizona, a total Jackass of epic proportion, who is really lucky I can’t remember his name.
Jackass was forced on me by my insurance plan and I had to suffer his arrogant used car salesman tactics for a year before I could switch. He employed all the well-worn tricks to get me to purchase every product and procedure available at his Uber High-Tech office with an unusally large staff of all young and beautiful female assitants. My teeth aren’t white enough, straight enough, clean enough, my gums are receding, I need a root canal, and maybe another.
I’m super surprised he never tried to send me to his 2nd cousin in Albequerque for a boob job.
And, I’d bet the farm he was on drugs, amphetamines of some sort. He would hit nerves I didn’t even know I had, and then claim I was being too sensitive.
Too sensitive, eh? Perhaps I didn’t have the same degree of drugged blood necessary as to render me as insensitive as being in his presence required. (Perhaps because he and his staff were sniffing off the top a little too much?)
Too bad I can’t invite him to sit in my magic chair of torture and drill into his brain, just a little. With an entourage of uniformed pretty boys gazing on.
Don’t let the bland eyes and penciled-in eyebrows fool you, this is one mean career Tyrant standing here!
The Platinum level Hate goes to Frau Ines Karl, the Hate-Crime Commissar of New Normal Berlin.
This is my personal gift, since I can’t afford a financial donation, on behalf of the Hate Crimes trials of Mr. CJ Hopkins. I know, that’s mighty white of me, as the saying goes. I will avoid taking a bow for humility’s sake.
I just think he needs some solidarity at the moment and even though he has been terribly Hateful to many VIP groups, he has been far too kind to the garden variety Tyrants he’s been exposed to on a daily basis for quite some time.
I know he’s a very courageous individual, but he’s hardly in a position to put any Hate down on any one person, especially if said person has the power to put him in prison for three years. Or more. Or less. Her whim, I suppose.
Not that he doesn’t deserve to be in prison, that’s been established in the previous paragraph: All good satirists deserve to go to prison. It enriches their work. Really, she’d be doing him, as well as his international audience, a great service.
But since I know that’s not her motivation, she gets the full reward of my individualized Hate.
I know some of you are probably thinking she doesn’t deserve that, from me certainly, who has never even met her, or heard her name spoken before this day. Hate, well-tended, does tend to come on suddenly, and be transferable. It’s mystical or something.
While you may be right about that, it’s beside the point. I stand with Mr. Hopkins. He is not able to Hate on her, maybe he doesn’t even hate her at all, so clearly, it’s up to me.
Right here you can see he’s being far too kind to this career Tyrant.
“I don’t want to impugn her competence as a Senior Public Hate-Crime Prosecutor or in any way suggest that the “lengthy review process” of her understanding of the law (including the concept of “the rule of law” in non-totalitarian societies) conducted by the Judges’ Election Committee and the Office for the Protection of the Constitution prior to turning her loose on the public following the collapse of the GDR was … well, anything less than adequate, but, if Germany is going to continue to claim that it has any respect for basic democratic principles — not to mention its own constitution — someone might want to take Ines Karl aside and explain that political dissent is not a crime.
Or, on second thought, maybe it is now. In which case, it would helpful if the German authorities would drop the “Germany is a democratic state under the rule of law” crap and just go openly totalitarian. It would certainly be less confusing.”
Tyrants, please have mercy on Mr. Hopkins, just look how sad and confused he is!
You see, he’s confused. I get it! I just want to help.
This Tyrant has made a long and successful career out of prosecuting Haters, so being a Hater myself, I feel justified to a bit of long-distance revenge.
“Senior Public Hate-Crime Prosecutor Ines Karl began her distinguished prosecutorial career back in the GDR, i.e., the German Democratic Republic, the judiciary of which convicted roughly 200,000 people of political crimes during its 40-year existence.”
I’ve reserved a special Hate-On Voodoo Supreme Package I learned deep in the swamps of Plaquemines Parish before the arrival of the Great Hurricane Katrina of the Raytheon Empire. This ritual can only be performed on the Sabbath of the 56th year of the Holy Birth of the Phantom Shelle.
And it just so happens that’s coming up at the end of this month!
Prepare for a Major Hate Flow coming your way Frau Karl of New Normal Berlin!
*Dainty bullshit, is the popular expression attributed to shitposting professional, Decker, of the esteemed blog: Dispatches from the Asylum.
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!
Historic picture of Bathhouse Row, Hot Springs, Arkansas
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.
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.
A National Historic Landmark District nestled inside a National Park, that’s an awful lot of ‘protection’.
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.
An online historic photo of the multiple-acre Majestic Hotel Complex
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!)
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 . . .
A fox occupying the ruins of the once Majestic Hotel and Bathhouse
We were taught in Economics 101 that we live in a market-based economy in the USA. They sometimes threw around the word ‘free market’ as well.
We were also taught it was our prosperity that allowed for so many choices in our free country, which itself was thanks to our progress.
Wonderful words that sound magical together: Progress and Prosperity
And this could almost make sense, it’s not exactly a lie, so it could almost be true.*. Except, we were taught another thing at the same time: We were taught that it is the customers who drive the market.
Now the lie becomes recognizable, because we can easily point to thousands of examples as to how it is not the case that the consumer drives the market.
Here are some of my preferred examples. Feel free to add more in the comments.
The Illusion of Choice
It’s not just thousands of breakfast cereals made up of the same toxic ingredients, but most of the food products available to the average consumer these days.
How about the good ole landline? Soon to be gone the way of the pay phone. We are told that folks just don’t want landlines anymore and so they will begin to discontinue them. California recently had a public backlash, but it won’t matter in the long run. Landlines will be discontinued for the plebs. That is those who haven’t already happily switched to a Smart surveillance system they carry everywhere.
In some cases, probably many, this will happen by forcing (coercing) customers into canceling their service. This is just ‘anecdotal evidence’ as they always say, whereas they have ‘the data’ which says the opposite.
It’s not that landline service has become increasingly poor over the last decade while the costs keep rising, as has happened to us and our neighbors. No, it’s market-driven scientific data that claims folks don’t want them anymore.
Lightbulbs. Low-flush toilets and low-flow shower heads. Wood-burning appliance restrictions and prohibitions. Gas can safety features. Smart washing machines. Electric cars. Sustainable Everything driving up energy costs. “Sin” taxes.
Your market-driven choice: Smart City or poverty
I have met very few folks who wanted any of these market-driven signs of our ever-improved Progress and Prosperity. But again, anecdotal.
Because they are ALL for the Environment, or our own good, of course. And the data says we want it.
Everything I want to do is illegal, like:
Sell raw milk Camembert at the Farmer’s Market (or anywhere else), distill our own whiskey, grow hemp, sell pork chops to our neighbors, refuse to pay taxes that fund wars and bail-out bankers or funds the research that floods our fields.
Behold the market-driven forces of weather modification!
But we are driven into Progress on the Big Bus of Bullshit called Prosperity (undefined term) by unseen forces (mostly unelected and completely unaccountable). Like magic!
Which brings me to my most obvious market-driven fantasy.
More like: Encyclopedia of Useless Myths
Out-of-print books
This one really aggravates me! There are plenty of glaring examples of the deliberate dumbing down of our media and our educational content. Here’s just one perfect example because it’s fresh on my mind from just today.
This book of utter herbal nonsense which I should probably burn on principle, is on its 22nd printing—Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs.
While Juliette de Bairacli Levy’s books of serious research and immense practical value are mostly out of print, or hard to find, in poor condition and/or expensive, or only available to read online (which I truly dislike, but there are no good public libraries around anymore and books are ridiculously over-priced and of course, I want to do my part for the trees. 😂)
A collector’s copy worth thousands proves there’s no interest whatsoever from the free market.
Why learn the practical magic of the actual benefits and remedies of the common Comfrey when it is demonized by Big Pharma and cajoled and belittled into its ‘fairy magic’ properties thanks to ‘trendy’ books dominating the marketplace, repeating drivel like:
“Worn or carried, Comfrey protects and ensures safety during travel. Also, tuck some into your suitcases so that they aren’t lost or stolen.”
Ah brilliant, so helpful! Our ancestors must’ve been loading up those trunks and buggies with their comfrey leaves. Is Cunningham’s book really worthy of 22 continuous reprints?
Or do folks buy this book for the same reason I did, because they were so desperate to learn practical wisdom about how our ancestors used herbs that they foolishly believed such a popular book must have something of value besides the pretty cover. Fool me once . . .
And in the meantime, arrest that old Amish man who fraudulently claimed his comfrey salve cures skin cancer (surely killing or maiming millions).
*Market-driven I’ve come to realize is a kind of Newspeak, because it has a double-meaning, similar to “stakeholder capitalism”—the market is not meant as in the agora, the market-place, you and I, but as in the stock market.
A few choice quotes from Juliette de Bairacli Levy who did not mince words about her views on modern medicine.
This excerpt is from 1952! It’s astounding to me that it’s only gotten worse in the last 70 years. They keep doubling-down, and the public keeps buying it up.
“The present-day farmer has been educated to consider disease as inevitable and the only scientific cure as being in the artificial remedies of the modern veterinary surgeon who through over-rigid orthodox training and himself under the influence of advertisement, is too often a mere vendor of the products of the vast and powerful chemical and serum manufacturers. For the vested interests in modern medicine are stupendous. Businessmen who have never owned an animal fatten like breeding toads upon the ailments of farm stock which need not know sickness at all if they had daily access to the herbs of the fields. The true farmer should cultivate his own medicines in his own fields, and he should not consider himself as being a farmer if he has to resort to outside help for keeping his animals in health, and healing them when in sickness. Science is providing the ruination of true farming; the only thing that I, and countless others, have noted as flourishing alongside science, is disease!—disease of the earth, disease of crops and disease of the animal and people who feed on the diseased produce.”
“Professor Szekely had declared emphatically, that the curing of the ailments of his patients is often a simple task in comparison with the freeing of their bodies from the accumulations of chemical drugs lodged in their tissues — the drugs derived from orthodox medical chemo-therapy, and from the poisons sprayed upon fruits and vegetables by the modern farmer, or placed in tinned and bottled foods as preservatives. Many of his patients are Americans, and in present-day America the chemist seems to be running amok, spraying and poisoning everything edible.” ~Juliette de Bairacli Levy, 1952, The Complete Herbal Handbook For Farm And Stable
The influence of advertisement, you say? Naw, can’t be that!
A lot of folks still aren’t grasping this manipulative strategy, so I want to make a glaring point of it this post.
It’s easier for others to recognize classic rudeness, and shrug it off. It’s considered good manners to be tolerant of others’ petty foibles or potential misunderstandings or cultural differences and so on.
But folks aren’t putting a stop to plain old gaslighting, even when it’s obvious. They aren’t calling it out, and naming for it what it is—abusive, highly toxic, anti-social, not only for those who perpetrate, and their victims—but also from those merely viewing or reading.
Abuse radiates much further than those immediately involved in the moment.
This little rant, or welcome observation, depending on your position, was inspired by a small YT channel, another East Texas gardener, which I was curious to view from his title today—Garden Failures: Looks like another bad year.
The kind of title of a seemingly honest person just sharing his experience, not a hustler looking to sell me shit or snare me into another Cult-ur, is one of the nice rare finds still sometimes popping in my social feeds.
I watched only a few minutes before taking a gander at the first comment, and was relieved to find a someone seemingly aware of the enormous amount of weather manipulation going on, and clicked because I saw there was a reply.
But, much to my annoyance and disappointment, it was the typical reply of a Master Gaslighter.
Screenshot
To be shamed as you seek validation, or understanding, is gaslighting. This ‘rude behavior’ is far more than rude and it is tolerated in our culture far more than bullying. Why?
This behavior is graver than victim-blaming and bullying, it is an aggressive attempt to diminish, deflect, avoid, minimize, and control the perceptions, research, feelings and lived reality of the host.
The host, as in the one who has had the audacity and courage to seek understanding in the first place, in a hostile environment and against the norms of the Cult-ure.
I’d just been listening to Jon Levi discussing it, so it was very fresh in my mind. I’ve experienced it all my life, as ALL have in our Cult-ure.
It’s just that some go along with it, instead of recoil from it.
I have gaslit others before, sometimes knowingly, sometimes quite unconsciously, only realizing it years later. My mindset was at those times to ‘fight fire with fire’ and maybe that’s a good strategy, at times, with those who have breached the boundaries into your personal life and betrayed you.
But the large majority of the time those gaslighting others on social media is ALL about narrative control and social engineering. Sometimes I wonder if these are actual individuals, but I don’t bother to check, because I’ve experienced it enough in real life to know if these are just AI bots replying to one another, well, they have a pretty good idea of the human condition.
Is it because the political world has so infiltrated every aspect of our existence that folks have come to accept a steady supply of gaslighting in their lives?
I’ve stopped fighting fire with fire myself, too much gas out there, I’m too old for that now.
But, I wonder, besides avoidin the gaslighters, which seems quite impossible these days, what other action might one take?
I don’t know when the breaking point will be, how it will come about, who will throw the first punch or the last. But, I’ve got some good quotes to share this post, of the variety that make me wonder if the public has finally had enough of the lies.
Or, was Bezmenov right? It’s hopeless at this point?
More false claims about raw milk, inspiring a good article from a wise woman, Sally Fallon of Weston A. Price. A few quotes:
“In a press release dated March 25, 2024,3 the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA), Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), as well as state veterinary and public health officials, announced investigation of “an illness among primarily older dairy cows in Texas, Kansas, and New Mexico that is causing decreased lactation, low appetite, and other symptoms.”
“The agencies claim that samples of unpasteurized milk from sick cattle in Kansas and Texas have tested positive for “highly pathogenic avian influenza (HPAI).” Officials blame the outbreak on contact with “wild migratory birds” and possibly from transmission between cattle. The press release specifically warns against consumption of raw milk, a warning repeated in numerous publications and Internet postings.”
“The truth is that “viruses” serve as the whipping boy for environmental toxins, and in the confinement animal system, there are lots of them — hydrogen sulfide, carbon dioxide, methane and ammonia from excrement, for example. Then there are toxins in the feed, such as arsenic added to chicken feed, and mycotoxins, tropane and β-carboline alkaloids in soybean meal. By blaming nonexistent viruses, agriculture officials can avoid stepping on any big industry toes nor add to the increasing public disgust with the confinement animal system.”
“Nearly a decade ago we won the mandatory national Radio Frequency Animal Identification (RFID) regulation. It was pushed on the heels of the mad cow paranoia as a way to track and find diseases quickly.”
For you youngsters, it was a draconian measure that was incredibly prejudiced against small outfits. For example, a Tyson factory could register one RFID tag for a whole house of 20,000 chickens—one per flock. But an outfit like ours would have to RFID every single chicken. Costs ranged from $2 to $5 per tag.
Every time you moved animals from one addressed premise to another, you had to notify authorities. Thousands of farmers around the country attended the hearings and voiced their opposition. The backlash was severe and eventually the USDA pulled the plan. It’s been dormant for a long time and we thought it was dead.”
********
Moving on to an essay that hits close to the mark, I think.
“In an election year that follows more than a decade of rising populist dissatisfaction, high-skill but low-status rejects are coming to look like a formidable social class.
Increasingly, it’s not just obscure farmers or overtaxed truckers who feel cheated out of the respect they’ve earned: it’s also debt-ridden college kids, heterodox tech magnates and blacklisted intellectuals. It’s manual laborers whose wages get depressed by inflation and illegal immigration, but it’s also artists whose projects get passed over to make room for yet another adaptation of The Color Purple. This helps explain why Trump has mobilized young people, blue-collar workers, white evangelicals, law-abiding Hispanics and black business owners, all in unexpected numbers: those are people who feel, in one way or another, despised without cause.
But the bitter irony is that in trying to outdo the founders’ virtue, we have created an unnatural aristocracy far more hide-bound and unworthy than the old-world royalty they fled. Our self-styled betters have neither raised us up toward a more perfect meritocracy nor led us triumphantly into a classless paradise. They have simply replaced an imperfect class system with a grotesque and nonsensical one. They promised to cater to throngs of frustrated pariahs; instead, they created more of them, adding to their number daily from the exiles of the natural aristocracy. Whether or not it is desirable that the resulting coalition should once again find itself represented by Donald Trump — a profoundly suboptimal champion — it was inevitable. This presidential contest is shaping up into a face-off between the incompetent elect and the excellent outcasts. It may not be the most exhilarating choice to have to face. But it’s not a particularly difficult one, either.”
And closing with an appropriate poem that was posted in the comment’s section of the post by Salatin quoted above. An author I’m very familiar with, but the poem is new to me.
THE WRATH OF THE AWAKENED SAXON by Rudyard Kipling
It was not part of their blood, It came to them very late, With long arrears to make good, When the Saxon began to hate.
They were not easily moved, They were icy — willing to wait Till every count should be proved, Ere the Saxon began to hate.
Their voices were even and low. Their eyes were level and straight. There was neither sign nor show When the Saxon began to hate.
It was not preached to the crowd. It was not taught by the state. No man spoke it aloud When the Saxon began to hate.
It was not suddently bred. It will not swiftly abate. Through the chilled years ahead, When Time shall count from the date That the Saxon began to hate.
I have to applaud our reader Highlander for sharing this musician who has me laughing so hard I have tears streaming down my cheeks! Nothing like a good laugh for health. So, first the fun stuff.
I believe this kind of ‘meaningful entertainment’ is an excellent way to spread the word about unpleasant news.
Another good one I’ve shared in the past, not a parody tune, a ballad, and very sad.
And, winding down, if you can muster the courage, Dane’s weekly Bad News Broadcast, which I never miss (much to Hubby’s chagrin!)
Keep laughin’, keep preppin’, and thanks for stopping by! 🤗
When I lived in Europe in the 90s it was not too uncommon to see an amazing castle for sale for a pittance. I do mean a real castle, or a vast country estate that included a structure that once was a castle.
And I do mean a pittance, as in, they were not able to give these places away.
Vauburg, France (not my image), bit of a multi-generational hodge-podge.
Sometimes that was because they came with strings attached, so I can understand. Or it was designated for a specific purpose or with strict regulations. You had to restore it, for example, which was something that cost so much that the just wealthy could not afford it.
I had a French boyfriend for a while, who boasted some aristocratic lineage and took me to the castle where his aunt still lived. I marveled at the exquisite property and at the lingering formality of his kin who addressed each other, that is as husband and wife, in the formal, using ‘vous’.
Maybe the uber-wealthy could afford it, if they cared to, but they just didn’t have the interest?
Or, which I’m actually more inclined to think these days, even with their fortunes, they would not be able to restore it. Because the skills to accomplish such an extraordinary endeavor have been lost to time.
A single example of the dozens of architectural marvels which have been destroyed in our little city, with more on the chopping block all the time.
In those days I dreamed of becoming a travel writer, or a writer of historical fiction. So, it’s not a huge stretch for me now to covet an interest in such parallel stories here, today, locally.
This is the closest real city to us, Palestine. What I’d call a small city today, though growing steadily. It was never more than a small city, as far as population goes. Just how it amassed such an amazing amount of great architecture is a real mystery to me. Though there are official stories.
I knew there was some interesting history there, and all around here, but it’s not like I’ve had a lot of time for exploring such idle pastimes, with all the work trying to build up a homestead.
But lately I’ve been squeezing in some time and loving it!
And of course, you’ve got to blossom where you’re planted. I used to tour every castle or abbey or old walls or ruins I could find, whether in the Old Town of any European city or hamlet, or a day hike away from the nearest bus stop.
This Old World has entered center stage for me again thanks to the Cyber World, which is really kinda crazy. But, true.
I’ve seen this old church for sale the last few times while driving through the downtown streets marveling at the old buildings.
I stop for lunch, and at a favorite antique shop, where I see tourists, which I find delightful. Though they only have much interest in the antique shops and the cafes and the provided entertainment. Still, it’s fun hearing German in the tourist office and hearing ladies from places all around the region, even in a rainstorm, there to peruse what our little city has to offer.
I was a novice travel writer, until I met the love of my life, who I managed to lure from the beaches of Thailand to a trailer park in Mena, Arkansas.
Hubby and I at ‘Roman ruins’ in Spain 2003—note our cute matching outfits—that was not planned.
And look who returned the favor by luring me into the deep woods of East Texas to spend an exceptional amount of time doing menial labor. 😏
I was also a beginner tour guide, Mayflower Tours. I lasted about two weeks, until I realized how unsuited I was to a job hosting a bus full of retirees for four-day trips to and around Branson, Missouri three times a month.
I think they weeded out a lot of us that way. There must be a trick to how many bossy seniors and cowboy theaters can be stomached for minimum wage, but I couldn’t figure that out quite fast enough. Another potential career option in the toilet.
And yet . . .
When I see precious gems like this my imagination sparks just like those days in Spain, France, Germany, UK, Czech Republic, Poland . . . Ok, everywhere, just about everywhere. I was very much a Europhile. Still am.
And yet . . .
I’m so struck by the lack of general interest. And knowledge. And, frankly, care.
I see the collapsing remnants of a structure worth saving. I see a history worth understanding and passing forward.
That’s the shot to inspire a buyer’s creative juices? Yikes. What about its real history, does anyone care? And, where’s the roof?
But the Realtors, who are there to sell this precious gem, see little of that world, neither the past nor the true potential. It’s such a shame. Such a very common, and so very confusing, big fat shame.
Will it become an ‘event venue’ as they suggest? It’s hard to imagine the kind of events that would make such a renovation effort worthwhile, or particularly palatable. Is there even such skilled workmanship available today?
Dare I question, true philanthropy, if it ever existed at all, is it dead?
There are many such gems in our little city, which suggest but mere clues to the true treasures in our midst, in plain sight—all teetering in a world of nearly forgotten but, dare I hope, at least a cyber-revival?
A taste of the hidden history in plain site, he’s getting to all the states eventually, and beyond, one of a great many channels sparking my renewed interests . . . 😁
Following is my personal opinion on: ‘Daily writing prompts’* and the personal lives of ‘Activists’.
It should be considered Rated R, Adult Content, Not Suitable for Work. And generally just bitchy.
(Furthermore, it may be considered as a Self-Righteous Rant and a Cowardly Non-Accusation aimed specifically at I know who but will not name, because these are the kinds of fuckers who will publicly come after me to berate a tiny fish in front of their very large audiences. As I’ve seen them do on numerous occasions to others who dare to ‘cross’ them, even privately.)
Today, among the political classes and the masses, we have victim groups, instead of individual victims. It’s a kind of class action diffusion. It’s like the old adage: 1 death is a tragedy, a million a statistic.
Maybe that’s why it’s become de rigeur for our ‘influencers’ to pile so much of their personal baggage into the public sphere. I’m not talking a time or two, or a personage or two, I’m talking a years-long pattern of ‘popular’ people spraying every issue with their personal odiferous and onerous and particularly cacophonous stench.
‘It’s not your work, Hannon – it’s your attitude.’
(And, I want to be very clear here, I’m not talking about all those folks with personal blogs. Blogging is by its nature a borderline media—somewhat public, certainly not private. Somewhat professional, sometimes, but mostly more like gathering at the cyberhood pub. Personal blogs sharing folks’ personal issues in their lives is a fine genre for generating support and camaraderie and insights and I enjoy and appreciate many of them.)
I’m talking about those who consider themselves, who are labeling themselves, as activists or influencers or journalists, specifically. Very public folks feeding their audiences on a regularly supply of their constantly distracting and dramatic personal conflicts and dramas.
Landing somewhere between a Mexican soap opera and politicians’ tawdry nightly news scandals, I find I’m being increasingly bombarded with the personal lives and conflicts of an increasing number of ‘advocates’ and ‘influencers’ and ‘activists’ and ‘philosophers’.
Who are these people and why are their personal lives weaved in so tightly with their public work?
From their personal lawsuits, to their family problems, to their health issues, to their constant bickering with the opposition—which really makes me wonder—are these activists in fact trying to replace the current Hollywood celebrities?
It’s like a version of reality TV for the ‘alternative’ or ‘conspiracy’ or ‘news’ buff. Who’s being censored this week? Who’s blocked whom? Who’s going bankrupt? Who’s getting divorced? Who’s going to rehab?
And then those very same activists claim their work is all about criticizing the SYSTEM, and it’s not about individuals.
Wait, what?
If this is about the system, why is your audience being constantly drawn to the dramas about YOU, an individual? And your relationships. And your endless conflicts. And your constant frustrations. And your family life. And your love life, or lack there of.
If it’s really not about you, then stop making it about you!
And, on, and on. Every fucking where they go they create conflict. And then ‘unpack’ it, for hours, for their audiences. How/why is this? Every damn month it’s some new drama with some poor new (or repeat) sap. All over the screens, unavoidable, poking their pathetic noses into my feeds on a regular basis.
How many collaborators must I block while still being subjected to your ‘news’? Your shifty, and forever shifting, views. Criticizing everyone while no one’s allowed to criticize you. Whining constantly how you are all about the ‘greater good’ while sucking the hearts out of your collaborators and supporters alike, for years.
Why bring your personal life to your work, and then demand your audience and collaborators focus solely on your work? Either bring your personal shit into the space, or leave it out. Don’t be that dumbass bitch who wears her teeny-tiny tank top on the city street and then whines when men gawk at her.
There’s a place for airing your dirty laundry in public—it’s located somewhere between the Red Light District and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.
Please y’all, spare me, and park yourselves there, so I know how to better avoid you in future.
________
*Why include those innocent-seeming ‘daily writing prompts’ in my diatribe, like those shuffled out right here on WP, you might ask?
Because they are invasive and I believe a stepping stone onto the TMI stage. Diffusing your victimhood or childhood fears or daily dramas through writing is cathartic and can be healthy, within safe environments and safe people.
These platforms are not safe. A nameless/faceless/largely invisible audience is not safe. Being a public figure in general requires a certain level of risk. And, being courageous enough to publicly share your difficulties in order to help or educate or vent or encourage, or even criticize others is not the problem.
It’s the deliberate and repeated interference of the private sphere into the public forums that is collapsing healthy discourse and glueing the undiscerning public eye on the train wrecks of the characters speaking over the actual social issues in question.
If that’s not a deliberate diversionary tactic, it sure the hell looks like one from where I’m standing. These are ‘professional activists’ doing a grave disservice to public activity. And the platforms are encouraging it because it generates copious data and more eager audiences around otherwise rather dry topics.
It’s the ‘Clinton-Lewinsky Effect’ of the Activists’ Cult and when I see it happen 3 times with one activist I know they are a card-carrying member of this cult and that’s the sign it’s high time to step away from their addictions, distractions and shenanigans.
