jedothek - Tumblr blog

[jedothek]

THE WEDDING AT CANA (JOHN 2)

I suggest the following reaction. (I do not know how to get this format to do subscripts, so I use boldface italics)

3C + 3H2O →  CH3CH2OH + CO2

The 3 carbon atoms of the first reagent could be obtained from various sources, given that the Logos was at the moment incarnated as a carbon-based life form. I suggest sputum, since we know that Jesus used such in his healing of the blind man (John 9:6).

The first product is of course the ethyl alcohol that is the spirit of wine. The production  of the other components of wine is left as an exercise for the reader.

The second product, carbon dioxide, suggests that the wine that was produced was sparkling wine, which I believe would have been rare or unknown to the inhabitants of Galilee in the first century; this added delight more than adequately explains why the governor of the feast was so pleased with the quality of the wine (John 2:10).     

[jedothek]

“How DARE you think Israel’s reporting on Palestine might in any way be racist!” Yeah cause what possible reason would a nation committing genocide have to be racist and lie constantly 🙄

Race is irrelevant. Jews and Arabs are both Semites. 2. If the Israelis were attempting to wipe out the Palestinians, the Palestinians would all be dead by now. So think harder: What are the Israelis actually attempting? To defend themselves, perhaps?

[jedothek]

If you are sincere, then the fact that you must run to the boring and robotic accusation of racism shows the smallness of your mind and the paucity of its equipment. If only half of the reports of Hamas’ behavior that I have read (from various sources) since oct 7 are true, then Hamas has shown themselves by their acts to be contemptible murderers, rapists, and torturers. If the only thing you can say in response to a father’s fears (justified by facts) is to call him a racist, then you can do us all a favor by remaining silent.

Hope for her sake she doesn’t know about the interview her dad gave where he said he was glad she was dead instead of being held by Hamas

[jedothek]

Just as the devil's finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist (Baudelaire), so the greatest achievement of the propagandists who control our minds is to convince us that we have freedom of thought.

[jedothek]

How to squeak by

I propose the creation of small societies (or cells, say 2 to 12 people each) dedicated to preserving civilization through the coming dark age. The activities of these societies may have to be secret. These societies would preserve the great works of art (literature, music, painting…) of the past, create new works, and maintain a tradition of absolutely free discussion: no member would be punished or expelled for anything he or she said or wrote. I would appreciate comments on these remarks.

[jedothek]

Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality, And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off waking toils, They do divide our being; they become A portion of ourselves as of our time, And look like heralds of eternity; They pass like spirits of the past—they speak Like sibyls of the future; they have power— The tyranny of pleasure and of pain; They make us what we were not—what they will, And shake us with the vision that's gone by, The dread of vanished shadows—Are they so? Is not the past all shadow?—What are they? Creations of the mind?—The mind can make Substances, and people planets of its own With beings brighter than have been, and give A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh. I would recall a vision which I dreamed Perchance in sleep—for in itself a thought, A slumbering thought, is capable of years, And curdles a long life into one hour.

― Lord Byron, from, ‘The Dream’

[jedothek]

Hitler's triumph

Hitler won WWII, in the sense that Europe and North America now accept that a person’s racial identity is among the most important things about him, a criterion that can legitimately be used to gauge how one treats him. The part of the world least afflicted by racism may be the Islamic lands.

[jedothek]

First Take: Goncharov Grilled

First Take 

Goncharov Grilled 

By Atli Aurelian  

It is always entertaining to reach back in time and see what contemporaries thought of works that are now universally conceded to be great. 

Those Viennese blessed enough to be at the epoch-making premier of Beethoven’s Eroica symphony (1805) were united in only one touch of criticism: it was sooo long! 

And thus Keats’ Endymion, which has by now proven itself a joy forever, was greeted at the time of its appearance by such sentiments as these: 

“It is not that Mr. Keats, (if that be his real name, for we almost doubt that any man in his senses would put his real name to such a rhapsody,) it is not, we say, that the author has not powers of language, rays of fancy, and gleams of genius—he has all these; but he is unhappily a disciple of the new school of what has been somewhere called Cockney poetry; which may be defined to consist of the most incongruous ideas in the most uncouth language.... 

“If any one should be bold enough to purchase this ‘Poetic Romance’ and so much more patient, than ourselves, as to get beyond the first book, and so much more fortunate as to find a meaning, we entreat him to make us acquainted with his success; we shall then return to the task which we now abandon in despair, and endeavour to make all due amends to Mr. Keats and to our readers.” 

So when we turn to Callia Pankow’s review of Martin Scorsese’s Goncharov in the New York Times for September 23, 1973, we are prepared for views which could find no niche in the present-day critical jungle.  

“If ever a film resembled a sequence of violent acts in search of a plot,” she opined, “that film is Goncharov.” 

Seldom in the annals of error has a critic managed to get so much wrong. “We start right out with an incredible premise – and I do not mean that as praise” she tells us. Yes, Callia, you’re not the only brain trust aboard who knows what “incredible” means. “We are asked to believe that the Soviet Union has collapsed in what would seem to be (from the non-sci-fi technology in the film) the near future -- a typical capitalist wish-fulfilment fantasy, perhaps fueled by the wild speculations in Andrei Amalrik’s Will the Soviet Union Survive Until 1984?” One doesn’t know whether to snicker at Pankow’s lack of prophetic talent, or to wince at the anticipation that we are about to be subjected to her leftist views on the Cold War. Mercifully, her attention is diverted from dialectics to dialect. “Mr. Scorsese here seems determined to squander a fine cast. Surely an intelligent actor like Mr. Keitel knows his limitations better than to keep up his ghastly attempt at an Italian accent throughout three long, long hours. I conclude that this ill-conceived phonetic foray was insisted upon by a tyrannical director.” 

Perhaps the most amusing of the review’s many imperceptions is Pankow’s incomprehension of what is now one of the most famous motifs in cinema.  

“Scorsese treats us to repeated shots of various clocks, complete with extreme close ups of ticking second hands, including most memorably the tiny timepiece gartered to Katya’s thigh, revealed when she lifts her skirt in a (predictably successful) bid to seduce ‘Ice Pick Joe’ Morelli (John Cazale). It is as if the hapless writer, Matteo JWHJ0715, thought that he could inject profundity into a meaningless movie with a, y’know, symbol.” 

Pankow would have acquitted herself more honorably simply to have admitted that subtlety was wasted in her. Every newbie in film school now, of course, knows that Goncharov’s clocks represent the meaningless unending cycle that is human life, a pessimistic conception derived from Giambattista Vico’s theory of history expounded in his Scienza Nuova.  

In a move that can only be called petty, Pankow even tried to rob JWHJ0715 of credit for his previous triumphs, referring with a sneer to his screenplay for Sergio Leone’s Under the Sun (Sotto il sole, 1963), now considered a masterpiece:

“The extremely spare dialogue can only be explained as a product of a conviction on Mr. JWHJ0715’s part that less is more. We can, in this case, cheerfully embrace this view, and conclude that Under the Sun would have been more satisfactory as a silent movie -- or better yet, as a silent audio play.” 

            For myself, I can only surmise that wherever she is, whether in this world or the next, Ms. Pankow now habitually becomes silent herself whenever Goncharov becomes the topic of conversation.   

[jedothek]

How It Should Have Happened

By Jedothek 

Columbus Day and Indigenous Peoples’ Day, 2022

Dramatis Personae

·                  Cacique (or chief) of the Lucayans

·                  Christopher Columbus, Italian navigator in the pay of Spain

SCENE: Guanahani. A clearing in a rainforest near the shore.

Enter CACIQUE stage right; COLUMBUS stage left

CACIQUE

Hey, where’re you going there?

COLUMBUS

Well, we’re not going anywhere; we’re coming

CACIQUE

From where?

COLUMBUS

From Spain

CACIQUE

Spain. Where’s that?

COLUMBUS points stage left

COLUMBUS

Over there

CACIQUE

Squinting and shading his eyes with his hand

I don’t see anything

COLUMBUS

It’s too far away to see

CACIQUE

Shrugs

Checks out. What did you come for?

COLUMBUS

Gold and spices

CACIQUE

Frowns, removes a gold ear ornament, and looks at it

Well, I’ve got these ear doodads, but I can’t let you have them. A buddy of mine gave ’em to me. Sentimental value, you know

COLUMBUS

Sure, understood. Any other gold around?

CACIQUE

[gesturing stage right]

You could ask around. Maybe some of the folks would be willing to part with some.

COLUMBUS

Thanks. How are you fixed for spices?

CACIQUE

We get by. We’ve got allspice, vanilla…

COLUMBUS

Sounds great. How are you on cloves, nutmeg…

CACIQUE

What’s a nutmeg?

COLUMBUS

It’s the hard, aromatic seed of the fruit of a tree, Myristica fragrans, used in…. [In sudden doubt] Hey, this is the Indies, right?

CACIQUE

What’s an Indy?

COLUMBUS

I guess you don’t use that word. Asia?

CACIQUE

Asia who?

COLUMBUS

Asia who what?

CACIQUE

o. I thought you were telling a riddle or something.

COLUMBUS

So what do you call this place?

CACIQUE

Guanahani, [Smiles with local pride, he being chief] It’s a nice little island we have here.

COLUMBUS

Oh, it’s lovely. [deliberately picking something to compliment] Some of these fruits look delicious, I’ve never seen anything like them

CACIQUE

They’re yummy. I’ll fix you a basket to take home with you.

COLUMBUS

O, you shouldn’t bother…

CACIQUE

It’ll be my pleasure [hesitates, not wanting to be rude] Mm, how long were you planning on staying?

COLUMBUS

Well, actually, I was thinking of claiming the island

CACIQUE

Well, look, I’d never want to piss on anyone’s dreams, but there’s a snag. The island’s already inhabited, you see

COLUMBUS

That’s a point. Though [he looks around appreciatively at the lush vegetation] I could really see retiring here.

CACIQUE

[stiffens, seeing he has to deal with a difficult topic]

Now, I don’t want to be unfriendly, here, stranger, but we’re not too keen on immigration around here. We want to keep Lucayan culture Lucayan. Don’t take it personally, now…

COLUMBUS

[suavely]

No offense taken; I understand completely. So, if claiming the island for Spain is off the table…Maybe you could join us – like, voluntarily. How would you like to be ruled by Queen Isabella?

CACIQUE

Is she cute?

COLUMBUS

Hey, man…

CACIQUE

Sorry, that was out of line. Why would we want to be ruled by her?

COLUMBUS

She and her royal husband, Ferdinand, are the most glorious sovereigns in Christendom

[CACIQUE is getting about half of this, with an effort of concentration]

They have treasuries full of gold, a magnificent palace, and invincible armies

CACIQUE

Sounds like you folks are pretty well fixed. What do u need us for?

COLUMBUS

[suddenly unsure himself]

Well, like I said, we’re kinda interested in gold and spices

CACIQUE

Well, as I say, with the gold, you’re pretty much on your own. We can certainly get you some allspice

COLUMBUS

Wow, it sounds all-purpose, that’ll be useful

CACIQUE

Now, we can give you some gratis, of course, but if we’re talking bulk, there’s got to be some reciprocity…

COLUMBUS

O, absolutely

[brief silence as CACIQUE waits for COLUMBUS to go on]

CACIQUE

[nodding encouragingly, perhaps with a hand gesture]

…and in return, you might provide…

COLUMBUS

[catching on]

Yeah, well, to start with, we have the true religion

CACIQUE

[Not entirely grasping the concept]

The true religion?

COLUMBUS

Yeah, it’s called Christianity

CACIQUE

[sounding out this difficult word]

Chris tea an it ee. And what’s that about?

COLUMBUS

Well, it says you can go live forever after death with this really kind god if you trust in the fact that he came to earth as a man a long time ago and died for you

CACIQUE

[too polite to say that this is nonsense]

Whoa, that’s some deep shit

COLUMBUS

Well, we think it’s kinda the ultimate religion

CACIQUE

[With a touch of condescension]

I’m sure it is. But [attempting tactfully to change the subject], I was thinking of something a bit more...tangible, you know, in exchange for the allspice…

COLUMBUS

O yeh. Well, let’s see, we could sell you some gunpowder.

CACIQUE

Gunpowder. And what’s that?

COLUMBUS

It’s a powdered mixture of saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal

CACIQUE

[trying to sound enthusiastic]

Great.

COLUMBUS

U can blow shit up with it

CACIQUE

[with genuine enthusiasm]

Great!

COLUMBUS

And you can use it to fire muskets

CACIQUE

What’s that?

COLUMBUS

It’s like a bow and arrow, but it shoots farther and does lots of damage

CACIQUE

Ok, but we’ve already got some pretty good bows and arrows. Why would we need mascots?

COLUMBUS

Muskets. Well, I’m thinking they could be pretty useful in opposing European imperialist aggression.

CACIQUE

That would come in handy. Ok, allspice for gunpowder it is. We can work out the exchange rate later. Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Mr.…

COLUMBUS

Columbus, Christopher Columbus, from Genoa

[extends his open palm. CACIQUE takes a short, slightly alarmed step back; then recovers his poise]

CACIQUE

I take it you want me to touch your hand.

[COLUMBUS’ arm droops in a disappointed manner]

COLUMBUS

Well, it's customary

CACIQUE

Ok, sure. [extends his hand]

[aside, in a condescending tone]

It’s their culture.

[they shake hands]

So, I’ll have my people get in touch with your people.

COLUMBUS

Perfect. We’re easy to find. We’re moored off the beach, in that… [seeking a word to connect the Santa Maria to CACIQUE’s experience] … YOOJ canoe

CACIQUE

O, is that what it is. I was beginning to believe that sea serpents were real.

COLUMBUS

[taken aback]

Aren’t they?

[CACIQUE rolls his eyes]

[Blackout]

[jedothek]

What is to be done?

It occurs to me that there is something that is rarely said, and which ought to be said. Racial politics is bad. I find myself in a mad society in which we all seem to be called upon to choose which kind of racial politics we like. The option of walking away from this evil game is not mentioned.

The evil of racial politics is easy to see once one thinks about it. On the one hand, it has gotten people killed, and will get people killed. On the other hand – what? Whom has racial politics benefited? No one.

The right choice is not hard to see.    

[jedothek]

Making waves

In tragedy, one expects a catastrophe. In discussing the role of eucatastrophe in fairy tales, Tolkien seemed to think that eucatastrophe was the deeper, hidden truth that lies behind the woes of the world    

 The Birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of Man's history. The Resurrection is the   eucatastrophe of the story of the Incarnation. (On fairy-stories) 

 But does Tolkien have any reason (not dogma) for regarding eucatastrophe as the deeper truth? The pattern in time is oscillation. When things take a turn for the worse, one can stick on a card reading “THE END,” snip off and label a bit of universal history as “Oedipus the King” or whatever and say: see, life is tragic. But if one waits a little longer for things to improve, one can snip off a different piece of universal history, one with a happy ending, and say: see, it is all a Divine Comedy after all.

Neither is the deeper truth. Happy endings and sad endings are, all of them, radically incomplete stories.

 Heroes have come and heroes have gone,

But the cruel sea-slaughter rolls eternal on

                                                -- Ceteid, Book III

[jedothek]

How the bible stories came down to us -- III.

A special Christmas installment

By Jedothek and Joan the Jacobin

“I shit you not. Wheels within wheels, spinning. the freakiest thing you could never want to see. I nearly hid behind the ram -- like there was nothing else to hide behind, here we were, out in the fields -- but the ram, he was hiding behind one of the ewes. So here I am, just hoping: this is all a dream, right? And then this thing, this fucking monster, has the nerve to say, “fear not!” and I’m like, “don’t you tell me not to fear, how about you not scaring people to death’”

“You said that?”

“O’ course not. I’m not looking for any trouble. So then this thing goes on about how the messiah has been born in Bethlehem and all, and I’m like, great, just what we need, like we’re not having enough trouble with the Zealots as it is, like we need more political shit, I just want to feed my sheep, I don’t need all this --”

“So, what? Did you go to Bethlehem and all?”

“o … Yeh, we went all right, like, none of us had the nerve to say to each other, I really don’t give a shit, I mean, when God does something, you’re supposed to be impressed”

“Well, he is the lord of All, you know…”

“O please, no sermons, we’re not in shul here; so yeh, we went.”

“What’d you do with the sheep?”

“We -- alright. We didn’t all go. We can’t leave the sheep alone. So Boaz volunteers to stay behind. ‘You go adore him,’ he says to us, ‘I’ve been on my feet all day, I don’t have it in me to go on a trip.’ Now, how’s that for an excuse? He’s going to watch the sheep, but also he’s too tired? Oh, what, he’s gonna wrestle a lion if it comes sniffing around, on his achy breaky feet? I tell ya, one of these days --”

           “Okay, but what about the Messiah?”

           “The whatta?”

           “The Son of God. You said--”

           “Oh, yeah, so we head over. And who do we see? There’s a group of wise guys there who beat us to the punch, oohing and aahing around this manger, we can’t see nothing! Adding insult to injury? Apparently, they gave the kid gifts! And not like, a rattle or whatever, something a kid would like, no, I’m talking like frankincense! Myrrh! Gold! King shit. Kid just popped out of mama, and He already has more gelt under his belt than my grandpappy”

           “Yeah, so the wise guys--”

           “Yeah, so the Wise guys roll out of the party and the kid’s mother is staring up at us, all round-eyed and exhausted but flushed. You know. Young mother. They think their little crotch goblin is God’s gift to the Earth. Every first-time mother’s like this, this one just happened to be right. So she’s looking at me like, ‘so what you got?’ and -- and nothing? Do I look like some big mucky-muck from the East? So we’re all kinda embarrassed that nobody thought of bringing a gift, although it’s not like we had been given any kinda heads up, and then Zadok decides to make a fool of himself.”

           “Typical Zadok.”

           “Really. He says to her, ‘well, ma’am, I can promise to bring you a lot of wool next year.’ And I’m thinking, Zadok, you’re making us look like rubes here. But the lady, Mary’s her name, she’s totally cool, she says, oh, that would be very nice.

           “So finally, finally I get to stroll up to the manger. The manger! They have the kid in the manger! Like, wouldn’t you be afraid some ass would bite his ass off? If I was one of the goats, I’d be so angry, I mean, that’s my dinner they have the kid sitting in! But yeah, I saw the kid.”

           “And…?”

           “What do you want me to say? Ever see a newborn? He looked exactly like one of those. He was lying there like a lump. Cute, though.”

           “So, ya figure this kid’s the real deal?”

           “Hey, who am I to argue with an angel? All I can tell you is if the kid’s all he’s cracked up to be, we’re lookin’ at trouble”

[jedothek]

Prisoners of the Present

“The statue of Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee that once provoked a deadly weekend of violence in Charlottesville, Va., will soon be melted down and turned into a new piece of public artwork, following a vote by city lawmakers early Tuesday morning.” This story is disgusting and frightening. The statue could have been sold to a  group that would have preserved it – perhaps in a private back yard. To arrange for it to be destroyed is reminiscent of Nazi book burning and the destruction by the Taliban of the Buddhas of Bamiyan. That the reader may not like Robert E.  Lee is as irrelevant as the Taliban’s hatred of Buddhism. The proper answer to  a work of art whose content one dislikes is another artwork with contrary content. To respond  to a controversial statue  by destroying it is another step toward the past-obliterating  society depicted in the novel Nineteen Eighty-Four, and another step from civilization toward barbarism.

[jedothek]

What to do?

One of the most fundamental adjustments each individual makes in childhood, perhaps typically before the age of 7, is: what shall be my primary fallback response to pain?

Among the possible methods chosen:

1.  escapism: think about something else

2. anger: find something else to lash out at

3. denial: say the experience is pleasant or neutral

4. activist: try to find a way to end the pain

This last option is as difficult as it is rare (that’s an allusion).

[jedothek]

First Muster

CHAPTER 1 

  “All right, listen up!” said the booming voice apparently issuing from nowhere. If the audience,  consisting of newly minted angels, had had any previous experience with which to compare this phenomenon, they might have found it anomalously puzzling. “We got some basic ethical rules here. No cruelty, no selfishness, no pride, no ugliness. Other than that, do what you want, you’re beautiful, every one of ya, and I say that from the bottom of my heart.”  The Deity’s gracious tone refused to accept credit for the beauty of his creations. “Any questions?”

 A diffident voice quavered from the rear ranks, somewhere among the archangels. “Just one, sir, please, if you don’t mind” 

The furrowed brow could be heard in the divine voice. “Hunh, what’s that?” the tone was one of genuine surprise rather than petulance. God had not really expected any interrogation by his new creations so soon. “Let ’em learn something first, then they can ask questions” he grumbled. But, no tyrant, he would never think of silencing a creation.

 “Well, sir, I’ve no quarrel with the ethics,  y’understand, beautiful plan, sir, couldn’t have done better myself . . . ”

“Of all the impudent compliments . . . ” god muttered under his breath

“... but I’ve got a question or two about the ontology.” The speaker himself, little Lucifer, was surprised at the rich palette of innate ideas that he came equipped with. A few million years later, he would reflect, “so, I guess that Plato fellow was right after all”

 Even God was impressed with Lucifer’s well-stocked intellect, even though he had designed it himself. “Ye-e-e-s?”

 “Well, now, who are we, sir, and where do we come from?” 

God relaxed. He loved talking shop. “Well, now, you’re what I call creatures,” he said with an audible paternal smile.  “That means I created you, brought u forth out of nothingness, you know.” 

“Mmm,” said Lucifer, “but is that really possible? I mean, isn’t it true: ex nihilo nihil fit?” 

“Oh, well, that old maxim,” said God, trying to remember when he had coined it and why had included it in his angels’ preconscious minds, “that’s just a generalization, it was never meant to apply to every case. Bringing stuff out of nothing, that’s one of my prerogatives” 

“O,” said Lucifer, the exclamation echoing hollowly off the clouds. “And you,  sir, are you a creature too?” 

“O no, not at all, I'm as eternal as they come” 

“Ah,”  said Lucifer, this interjection less laden with incredulity than the last. “So you’re a timeless person?” 

“Yeah - well, no, not a person exactly. See, I'm three persons.” 

“O, really?” said Lucifer, with eager interest. “And which person am I currently addressing?”

 “Well, all of ’em, really,” answered God with the slightest hint of hesitation. “It’s a group effort, see.”  

 “O I see. But you disagree occasionally, I suppose”

“ O no, we see eye to eye. See,  the father created things, but the Son, he – that is, I – am the repository of the Forms, so I  – that is,  He – really couldn’t have done it without him.” 

“But surely” Lucifer pressed on past the jungle of pronouns, “you must disagree sometimes, I mean, if your wills are identical in the mathematical sense, then, really, you’re one person. I mean,  since I guess you don’t really have a body . . . ” God grunted in guarded agreement “ . . . then there would  b nothing to mark you guys as different persons except diverging wills” 

“I . . . I’ll explain that to you when you’re older.” The angels looked at each other. No one was buying it. That deadly moment had arrived when the professor, defeated by a clever student, feels the class losing confidence in him, slipping away. 

Lucifer persisted, unconscious of any aggressive impulse, moved, as far as he knew, by an insatiable curiosity. “ So about that creation,” he said, unaware of the growing note of self-confidence in his voice, “ You say you created us. Well, ok, but the problem is, I don’t remember any such event. As far as I know, I was always here.” 

“Well, look here,” said God, his tone now not so much Heavenly Father as Dutch Uncle, “I assure you I created you. I remember it as if it were yesterday, and in fact, it was today.”

 “Well, with all due respect” rejoined Lucifer in a voice devoid of any reverent accent, “u can’t expect me to take something of such fundamental importance on mere say-so. I must have the courage to use my own understanding” 

   Both creator and creature thought simultaneously: Where’d I/he get that idea? 

Lucifer continued as the Heavenly Host turned to listen with rapt attention, “The relevant regulum rationis” (“Hm?” thought God, “ I hadn’t planned to invent alliteration till next Sunday”) “is: Frustra fit per plura quod potest fieri per pauciora. The hypothesis I propose is: I created myself” 

“All right, that’s enough for today,” said God in the strained voice of the migraine sufferer. “ Company DISMISSED!” *** “Quite a Lord we have, isn’t he?” said Raphael in resiliently chipper tones, as a knot of angels relaxed in the local tavern, the Publican. He sipped the Liebfraumilch appreciatively.   “He’s got it all: creativity, leadership skills . . . ”

“Well, I guess so,” said Lucifer, through his glass, darkly. “That is, he’ll do till someone better comes along.” CHAPTER 2 ***

[jedothek]

Cause for concern

For reasons that are difficult to specify, Americans seem complacent about bad trends afoot (such as racism and the suppression of free speech). When regarding Nazi Germany, some Americans still feel that it can’t happen here, that we are different. Indeed we are different. The difference is that the Germany of 1931 was more civilized than the America of 2021.  

[jedothek]

Read Hegel; then read the antidote: Schopenhauer

this blog is pro turn signal