Yet More Dangers in Obfuscation

With the meanings of words changing, and some words being given more power while others are given less, it comes as no surprise that a popular magazine would release an article that appears to attempt to normalize incest. 

This article go so far as to change the meaning of incest, however, softening it into genetic sexual attraction. This has been going on for decades, and has even been lampooned in a popular George Carlin rant. Adding softer language to something does not change what it is. Instead, it serves as a line of division with which someone can call themselves proper and another person improper. 

Beyond that, it blurs the lines yet again of hate speech. When will come, the first instance in which someone calls it incest, and another person gets offended because they were merely engaging in genetic sexual attraction?

The term “slippery slope” gets thrown around a lot, but in this case it is clear that we are on one.

Don’t fall.

Silencing Your Opponent.

It is important, whether in the world of politics or one’s everyday life, to be able to debate, and do it cogently and elegantly. You must know your opponent’s side as well as your own, and be able to see why they can see validity in their argument, even if you completely disagree. It is important to be educated on both sides of the issue at hand, and be willing to play devil’s advocate to yourself.

It’s important to simply do it at all.

This is a sticking point for most college-age special interest protesters. From blowing air horns at Milo Yiannopoulos speaking engagements, to creating white noise to drown out any rational discussion, to blowing air horns at a Toronto men’s rights talk, special interest groups make it clear that one interest they don’t have is rational discussion. It’s surprising that Ben Shapiro’s talk at Berkeley went off without a hitch, with police actually doing their job and keeping Antifa away. In other news, Berkeley professors are now on strike to protest Free Speech Week at Berkeley.

It’s alarming that people who are supposedly educated, and supposedly educating tomorrow’s leaders, are so invested in the new art of not debating.

I’ll give you a pro tip, free of charge: If you cannot argue your point, whether or not you convince your opponent of your position, without resorting to interrupting noise and a refusal to continue or to let your opponent speak; then your opinion has no value.

Silencing opinions you don’t agree with does not help you grow or learn, and the more quickly people can figure that out, the quicker we can get back to growing as a nation. I encourage everyone who reads my blog to argue with me, and to please seek out the opposite of your own opinions.

If you don’t know everything, you don’t know anything.

My first quote! Tell your friends!

 

Perpetual Adolescence

Something strange to notice these days, is how much time young adults spend trying to remain in their adolescence. A record number of young adults or choosing to remain living at home with their parents, or living with roommates into their thirties. While some of these people have good jobs and contribute at home; not their home, but their parents home, many of them eke out an existence working at a Starbucks or similar coffee shop, or in a music store. They tend to have useless degrees as well, such as sociology, associates level psychology, or the dreaded gender studies. These are expensive courses that put people in terrible that while not preparing them financially to pay that debt back.

These are the people you see protesting all the time. They join groups like Antifa and travel around the country, unwashed and angry. They’ve got the time for it, because they’re not working an actual job. They tend to be very aggressive toward those that promote the STEM fields in school, and try to surround themselves with people much younger than them, more impressionable. 

Psychologist and cultural critic Jordan Peterson calls this a Peter Pan existence. This title makes sense. Peter didn’t want to grow up, and despised anyone who did. Captain Hook was the specter of adulthood, with the crocodile constantly chasing him, ticking, ticking, constantly ticking. A literal form of mortality. Time had already gotten a taste for him, and wanted the remainder.

Isn’t that just how it is though? We spend every day heading toward the end, inevitable and inexorable. We don’t get a choice in it, and yet, among the generation known as millennials, there is an idea that you can remain young until you suddenly wither and die. 

These are people for whom, when they reach their thirties and finally have to open themselves up to reality, things are going to be much harder because of the years they have wasted thinking that they are the ones that know better. These are people who are going to be bitter, angry, frustrated that their reward for trying to change the course of the country will be laboring until their final day.

Those of you who are reading this and have escaped that fate, good for you. Those of you who are reading this, however, and are still paying money into a course that’s only going to teach you how to divide people up into groups, get out before it’s too late. You deserve better, and so do the people around you.

There’s nothing that says personal responsibility better than piloting your life in a direction that’s not going to hurt yourself or those around you.

On Race

The nation seems to be obsessed with three things these days. Race, gender, and sexuality. Three things that, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t even be a blip on the radar compared to everything else that’s going on. My personal belief is that a few very rich people have a lot to gain by diving this country and ensuring that no cohesive action will come as a response to a tyrannical police state, or an outside threat.

Today, I will be covering the subject of race.

I have been told countless times that as a white man, I have no place talking about race because I have not experienced that favorite buzzword of the racist left: Institutionalized racism.

I am white. I spent the first twenty-two years of my life living in black neighborhoods. Yes, those kind. The kind that have their own english-ish patois, the kind where people sit on the stoop all day and deal drugs. Basketball games might end in a shooting. I remember knocking on my friend Kareem’s door and his dad answering, looking at me with disgust, and saying, “Kareem. Your white friend is here.”

I remember, despite my desire for peace, love, and friendship, having to become a very scary guy over the years as a survival mechanism. I remember hearing them say nigger far more than I ever heard any white person say it. And no, the word nigga is not different. Don’t fool yourself. I remember, before my intimidating transformation, being called every white racist term that exists, and it being okay because there were a hundred of them and one of me. I also remember that after my transformation, only ever being called Big Mike.

Most of you reading will say I never really experienced racism because I am white. I’d say different. I’d go as far as to say that I experienced that consuming and disempowering form that is “institutionalized” racism. My best friend’s aunt got evicted from her building despite never being late on rent, and being told that it was specifically because she was white, and they didn’t want any whites in their building. I dunno what you think, but I think that looks like racism.

I remember seeing what happened to black kids who liked rock or country, or for that matter, anything besides gangsta rap. The black girls who, in a rare occurrence, were born with straight hair. White girl hair.

I, however, also remember being partially raised by a Jamaican woman named Etty. My (single) mom would go to work, and Etty would watch me all day among her own kids. I wasn’t treated like a white kid. I was just treated like a kid. There were positive experiences growing up as the whitest of the black kids.

These days, I see the group Black Lives Matter all over the place, wedging themselves awkwardly into every special interest group they can. Interrupting Pride parades. Taking over entire college campuses. Segregating some college campuses. You know what I see? The KKK, minus the lynching. The KKK wanted segregation. The KKK tried to hijack every platform they could.

The difference? The KKK wasn’t given a voice. They have their little rallies, but you know who goes to them? Other white supremacists. They don’t get to hijack other people’s rallies to try to get a new audience, because they’d get driven out. And rightly so. No racist group deserves a platform. So why, then, does BLM get a platform? Why have they been allowed to continue for this long, despite how overtly racist they are and now trite and outdated the concept of race even is?

If you are teaching your children things about race that are based on experience and your own slanted thoughts, you’re already perpetuating the cycle.

I was in Wal-Mart with my son once, and he’d never really registered seeing a black person before. He asked me why the man over there had brown skin. I told him that the man’s ancestors, like grandmas and grandpas, came from a place where more melanin in the skin was necessary, and explained that melanin makes a person’s skin dark. He was happy with that answer. I didn’t tell him some stupid story about how god cursed them. I didn’t tell him that black people were any different from anyone else. I didn’t want to create a preconceived notion.

In recent years, however, he’s learning to distrust black people. A number of black families live in our neighborhood, thousands of miles from where I grew up, and their parents apparently decided to go the other route when teaching race to their kids. As a result, my white son is treated differently by the black kids than he is by the white kids. That’s not the way it should be.

Racism goes both ways. It’s institutionalized both ways, too, depending on where you come from. It’s wrong, no matter which side you’re on.

You can McFeast in Valhalla

This might be a long one. I’m also trying a new format, where I link to the things I’m referencing.

There’s an ever-growing and obnoxious subgroup of people. They walk around looking tired or stressed, and will tell anyone around them that they only slept two hours last night, or that they didn’t even sleep at all. In a group, they compete over who has worked the most hours on the least sleep. I’ve done it before. I once stayed up for six days straight(working a night shift at a prison). By night four, I was pouring an entire 80 Hour Energy(citrus-y heaven in a bottle) into a Mountain Dew twice a night. The flavor alone could wake the dead. I called my Sergeant at 3 AM on night seven, because I had begun hallucinating. I was seeing cat people wandering the pods. I had been the first book in the Tide Lords series, by Jennifer Fallon, and apparently the slave race in that book had embedded itself in my mind.

I digress. I was running on caffeine, yes, but I was also sustained by the knowledge that others knew the sacrifice I was making of my relationship with sleep. Look what I’m doing for my professional life, at the expense of my health. It’s fairly childish, along the lines of twice-as-much-in-the-same-place, uphill-both-ways. It’s kind of jumped the shark, too. More and more, people are complaining about that person. Not only do they not want to be compared to that person by the company, but they don’t want to deal with that person either.

This Wakeful Warrior tends to survive on caffeine and junk food. They run to McDonald’s or the local gas station, or, if they can’t leave the premises, the vending machines will have to suffice. Rarely do you see this person bring a lunch from home. They’re too busy hustling. While their health declines, though, their profits don’t often go up in a commensurate manner. That’s okay. Sleep is for the weak. They’ll McFeast in Valhalla.

Thing is, balance is what’s necessary. Many millionaires will tell you that they did work harder or longer than the average person, but not by much. Their work/life balance was still in order. Listen to the Dave Ramsey Show long enough, and you’ll find that he talks to a lot of millionaires who made it theirs through consistency, rather than destroying their body or mind for it. People making 60K a year as a couple. Ordinary people.

In Bronnie Ware’s Regrets of the Dying, in which she has spent years speaking to those on their deathbed, it is notable that Working Too Much is second only to Living to the Expectations of Others. Oddly enough, the two go hand in hand.

That guy at the office, talking about how little sleep he’s working on, or how many doubles he’s done this week, seems to be fishing for compliments. Or sympathy. He’s trying to outshine everyone else’s expectations of themselves. He’s trying to outrun the company’s expectations of him. If he were only doing it for himself, he wouldn’t talk about it every day. He’ll be lucky if he gives himself time to regret it.

I’m currently experiencing my own state of cognitive dissonance in the wake of my recent job loss. My wife decided to go out and find herself a job that exactly replaces the wages lost from mine, and it’s a cushy one, too. She decided it was high time that I stayed home and got a few books written while I keep the house up. I want to do that, and plan on taking advantage of it, but the role I’ve played for so long and the expectations of those around me are causing me to be irrational about the situation. I need to stay focused on what’s best in the long run, as my writing will likely yield far more than any job I could get.

In the long run.

Here’s hoping I can find some balance.

For now, I’m signing off.

On Motivation

Most people think they know their motivation. Do you?

What motivates you?

Motivation is not just a buzzword. Your motivation is a deeply personal thing that only you truly know. You might not even know what it is, and this lack of knowledge could be what keeps you from reaching your true potential.

These days, in the United States, it seems like most people are motivated by bills, and keeping up with the joneses. There is such a desire to look successful even when you’re not, that people will work miserable jobs, long hours, and have an overall unfulfilling life.

When these people were in elementary school, and the teacher asked what they want to do, how likely is it that one of them said, ” I want to watch my hours burn away in a mailroom, and then working in front of a fryer, while my friendships erode around me”

More likely they said they want to be a firefighter or a police officer or a doctor. More likely their answers were rooted in the desire to do a job they’d enjoy rather than the desire to pay the bills using the job as a vehicle.

Are you doing what you like right now? If not, are you pointed in that direction?

You ought to be. If you hate your job, your free time ought to be spent finding a new one. A more fulfilling one. Maybe even a career. Your free time could be used to make yourself better for the life you want. School, or online coding classes, anything that will help you become the person you want to be.

I’ve found my motivation. My motivation is joy. Over the next few years, you’ll learn more about me, and you’ll see why it took three decades to figure this out, and why it’s such a revelation to me.

Until then, go seek out your motivation.