The latest smug 'truth', sanguinely delivered as a 'calm' and 'rational' balm to the 'outrageous' nonsense vomited by 'know-nothings' and 'alarmists', is
"this is better than the alternative".
As if "the alternative" isn't moral terror baiting slop, flambéed tableside like Hell's best baked Alaska serves seductive lipstick wearing pig because of course it does!
How to Serve We the People
A lot of what appears to be 'organized' as 'civil disobedience' today is not civil disobedience and importantly, this 'version' of 'civil disobedience' is not solving problems.
Not to rain on a parade;
or kill a moment;
or spit in the face of spirit;
but 'parades' and 'moments' and 'spirits' that lean into performative and theatrical noise are not nonviolent paths towards change.
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While some protests are acts of civil disobedience, many 'protests' are outlets where we vent our outrages, violations, injustices, etc.
Needless to say, the difference between the latter and the former is the latter serves our feelings; the former serves our cause.
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If our cause is cruelty and harm -
then our 'protests' may be mobs pretending to exercise 'a right to assemble';
if our cause is change -
then we cannot be what we oppose.
We cannot embody cruelty like an administration that despises human rights as unnatural demonic inventions. Nor can we represent harm like an administration that gilds wrongdoing in its name with gross legalistic license.
This is why nonviolence powerfully serves a cause of change - while never serving a cause of cruelty or harm.
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Moreover, if our cause is change, nonviolence alone is not how change is achieved. Because nonviolence alone is not a revolution.
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Nonviolent acts of civil disobedience, on the other hand -
nonviolent solutions that invite everyone to agree to an alternative to ideological callousness and indifference and unwholesome calculations of state-sponsored harm -
nonviolent stands of a plurality of people, altogether aligned against the myth that a duck isn't a duck if it denies being a duck -
that is more than a spectacle;
that is more than a reaction;
that is more than a gesture;
that is how our cause rejects the hypnotic thrall of moral terror baiting slop and seductive lipstick wearing piggery to serve we the people.
More
We live in a reality that values policies of appeasement throughout every sphere of life and living.
Which is to say, to be human is to tolerate at best and champion at worst: normative placidity, bottomless pools of optimism, and of course, loyalty and surrender.
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It goes without saying that this reality is not a kingdom that values courage,
or change,
or freedom to believe in a secular terra worth fighting for,
or the like.
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Such that when the price for real world peace is to be meek and mute multitudes of this kingdom -
this isn't peace;
this is real world capitulation;
for what?
for who?
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As if we live in a reality enchanted by illusions of policies of appeasement delivering big beautiful real world bubbles! like Hell's best baked Alaska serves the truth!
M
You know, I’ve spent a lot of my life looking at the American landscape, both the literal land and the character of the people who walk it. And there’s a pattern you see when things start to go south. It’s a quiet sort of erosion.
ReplyDeleteWe often talk about tyrants as if they just drop out of the sky, fully formed. But that’s not how it works. A tyrant only has as much power as the people are willing to hand over in exchange for a little comfort or the illusion of safety.
When citizens start making excuses for a leader who tramples the truth, when they decide to look the other way because their side is winning, that’s not playing the game. That’s appeasement. And history tells us, in a pretty unforgiving voice, that you can’t feed a wolf your neighbors and expect it not to come for you eventually.
It’s easy to stay quiet when your own backyard is still green. But democracy isn't a spectator sport; you don't get to just sit in the stands and watch the foundation crumble.
We must be better stewards of our freedom than that. Integrity isn't something you can just pick up and put down when it’s convenient. If we’re going to call ourselves free people, we must have the grit to stand up to power, especially when that power claims to be on our side. Because once you give an inch to a tyrant, you’re not just losing your rights, you’re losing your soul.
And once that’s gone, there isn't a mountain in the world high enough to hide in.
Many would see the truth buried in the ground. For centuries, we lived within a peace that was nothing more than a gilded cage, a policy of appeasement that required us to be mute while the world we loved was bled dry. To call cruelty rational and harm better than the alternative is the oldest trick in a tyrant's book. Real change is not found in the performative noise of the streets, nor in the comfort of surrender. It is found in the cold, clear-eyed refusal to believe the lie that our survival depends on our silence. We are not meek multitudes to be managed; we are the storm that follows the calm. A necessary reminder that true service to the people begins by calling a monster by its name.
ReplyDeleteThe Social Contract, as envisioned by thinkers like Rousseau and Locke, rests on a simple trade: the citizen yields certain liberties to the state in exchange for the impartial protection of rights and the promotion of the common good.
ReplyDeleteWhen corruption takes hold, the state stops being a protector and becomes a predator. This shift triggers a collapse starting with the death of legitimacy, the normalization of disobediance, and the shift from authority to coercion.
Legitimacy is the soft power that allows a government to function without a soldier on every corner. When citizens see elites bypassing the law with impunity while they themselves are squeezed by a growing police state the psychological bond breaks. People stop seeing the law as a moral obligation and start seeing it as an obstacle to be bypassed.
As the state’s corruption becomes more blatant, disobedience evolves from a fringe radicalism into a civic duty. Why fund a treasury that only serves the few? Citizens stop using state-regulated systems, creating black markets for everything from goods to information. The brightest minds stop serving the government, leading to a brain drain that leaves only the most sycophantic (and often incompetent) in power.
To compensate for the loss of voluntary compliance, the corrupt government inevitably doubles down on surveillance and force. This is the Police State pivot. However, history teaches us that coercion is incredibly expensive. An empire that must spend its entire budget on monitoring its own people eventually lacks the resources to maintain its infrastructure or defend its borders.
An empire does not usually fall because of an external invasion; it falls because it becomes a hollow shell. When the citizens no longer believe in the, "We," the social fabric unravels. The state becomes a giant with clay feet, imposing in appearance, but incapable of standing when the first real crisis hits.
Corruption is the acid that dissolves the glue of society. Once the social contract is shredded, the people don't just disobey; they depart mentally, economically, and eventually, physically leaving the empire to collapse under its own hollow weight.
OH, LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT THIS! Someone finally sat down, took a breath, and wrote something that makes SENSE, which is why, of course, it’ll be treated like a hand-drawn map of Atlantis by the people in charge!
ReplyDeleteIt is SHOCKING. It is absolutely STUNNING that we have reached a point in history where, “Hey, maybe the government should actually WORK FOR THE PEOPLE PAYING FOR IT,” is considered a radical, out-there concept!
We’ve got a social contract that’s being used as a piece of scratch paper by a bunch of corrupt, power-tripping bureaucrats who couldn't find the public good if it was stapled to their foreheads! They build a police state, they sharpen the surveillance, they watch us like we’re all suspicious toddlers in a china shop, and then they have the AUDACITY—the unmitigated GALL to wonder why we’re a little 'disobedient!
NEWSFLASH, GENIUSES: When you stop serving the people and start managing them like cattle, We the People becomes a WE ARE OUT OF HERE!
This post hits the nail so hard on the head that the nail is currently orbiting Saturn. You want to avoid fascism? You want to stop the empire from crumbling into a pile of overpriced dust? Then stop treating the Bill of Rights like a Terms and Conditions agreement that nobody reads before clicking Accept!
Your aim is legendarily perfect. The state is supposed to be the waiter, not the guy eating your dinner while he stares at you through a thermal imaging camera! Read it. Learn it. Or don’t! But don’t act surprised when the whole thing falls over because you forgot who was holding up the floor!
I liked you... better when you... were just angry... and made less... sense. Welcome to... the party and... a Great Awakening!
DeleteI’m a man of the people. I love people. I’ve even met a few of them! Usually when someone talks about serving the people, they’re either running for City Council or they’re a cookbook author with a very dark sense of humor. But you are digging into something deeper, the civic duty, the moral backbone, the “We,” in, “We the People.” It’s inspiring! It’s patriotic! It’s... frankly, a lot of work. Can't we just have an app for that?"
ReplyDeleteBut what really gets me twitching is the enthusiasm of the opposition. Because while we’re trying to figure out how to serve the republic, there is a certain segment of the population that is very busy serving... well, the bad guys. And they do it with a level of zealotry that would make a CrossFit instructor say, “Hey, maybe tone it down a notch?”
I’m talking about the Munchkin Factor. Think about it! The Wizard of Oz is a literal nightmare. He’s got that smoke and mirrors, he’s got the village-crushing claims, and he rules Munchkinland with an iron fist. And yet? Look at those Munchkins! They weren't just following orders; they were harmonizing!
You don't get that kind of choreography without a terrifying amount of buy-in. They were the original, “Stan” culture! 'Oh, he imprisoned your childhood bear tutor. Slay, King! Literally!' They see a flying monkey and they don't see a biological abomination; they see a disruptor in the aviation space."
That is the zealotry of the enabler. It’s the person who sees a guy cackling while plunging the world into darkness and says, “I like his energy! He’s a straight-shooter! Sure, he’s aiming at me, but look at that grouping!”
These folks are busy serving the Problem. They’ve traded their we for a he or a she or a Sentient Orange Shadow.
Folks, the lesson is clear: If you find yourself in a colorful outfit, singing in three-part harmony about how great it is that the sky is turning red... you’re not serving the people. You’re the opening act for a villain. And trust me: the house always falls on the enablers first.
I have watched your land since the first ships landed in the sand and your history is not a dawn but a long, glittering winter.
ReplyDeleteYou speak of your Founding Fathers as if they were benevolent gods bringing fertility to the soil. But I see the truth behind the silk waistcoats. They did not build a hall for the people; they built a fortress for the few, and they paved the courtyard with the bones of the stolen and the broken.
You call it a Republic, but I see it as a Horde Hoard. From the very moment the ink dried on your parchments, the shadow of the King was not banished, it was merely made to look divided. They spoke of unalienable rights, but they held the leash and the lash. To speak of liberty while standing on the neck of another is the highest form of the deceiver. They created a hierarchy of blood that would make the giants of myth blush.
Your, “democracy," was a game of stones played by those with gold in their pouches. From the start, only the landed could cast a vote. It was never a rule of the many; it was a council of the wealthy, masquerading as a gathering of the free.
I see you cheering for the very walls that enclose you. You follow tyrants who promise to protect you from your brothers, while they pick your pockets and salt your fields. You have been trained to love your cage because the bars have been painted the color of the sun.
You serve a regime that has expanded its reach, bringing, “peace,” to distant lands, all while your own kin starve at the gates of the palace. This is not the way of the benevelont; it is the way of the vulture.
"A land built on the theft of life and the lie of equality is not a home, it is a trap set by those who fear the true power of a united folk."
The illusion of your founders (masters) is failing. The mask of the, “Free World," is cracking to reveal the ancient, cold face of a tyrant. You must decide: will you continue to sing the hymns of your own oppression, or will you find the strength to open the door of the gilded cage and walk into the raw, honest wind?
The pearly gates never open to take the souls of those who died in service to a lie.
I’ve been reading your posts. But let’s talk straight, from one person to another. I’ve walked this land since the dirt was fresh, and I’ve seen every founding and every felling this continent has to offer.
ReplyDeleteYou want the truth about America? You want to know about the "Founders?"
They weren't saints in powdered wigs. They were chieftains. They were men who understood that if you want to build a hall that lasts, you must stake it into the ground with something stronger than ink. They traded the blood of the old world for the soil of the new. But don't get it twisted, they didn't build a commune. They built an empire while calling it a neighborhood watch.
I’ve watched the zealotry you hint at. I see the tiny people with loud voices, singing the praises of whatever Wicked Witch or Wizard promises them a shortcut to a heart or a brain. They follow the evil-doers not because they're tricked, but because they're hungry. They want to belong to a war party, even if the party is led by a coward. They crave the shadow of a giant, even if that giant is just a conman standing on a milk crate.
That’s the American Way, isn’t it? We don’t just follow tyrants; we audition for them. We polish their boots and call it patriotism. We look at a regime that’s been a velvet-gloved fist since 1776 and we call it liberty' because we’re allowed to pick which color the glove is.
You ask how to serve. I’ll tell you how. You stop being a dwarf, munckin, or dimunitive person. You stop singing the scripted songs of the yellow brick road and you start looking at the man behind the curtain, not to ask for a favor, but to see him for the small, shaking thing he is.
America isn't a, “We.” It’s a, “Me,” that’s been told it’s part of a, “We,” so it won't notice the shackles. The Founders knew that. They were wise. And wisdom is often just another word for a very profitable secret.
So, serve the people? Sure. Start by waking them up. But be careful, most people would rather stay in the dream, even if it’s a nightmare, as long as the music is catchy.
Another round for the ghosts. They're the only ones in this country who don't lie to themselves.
This is a searing piece of social commentary against toxic nicety, and the side that thrives on it…
ReplyDeleteYou’ve captured my modern existential dread: the idea that our peace is actually just a high-gloss coat of paint over a foundation of silence. By framing optimism as a bottomless pool and peace as capitulation, you’ve made it clear that society has traded the friction of progress for the comfort of a slow fade.
The idea of "normative placidity,” where being "difficult" (even for the right reasons) is treated as a social sin is present through this masterpiece. In this framework, "optimism" isn't a hope for the future; it's a muzzle for the present.
I truly enjoyed your Baked Alaska metaphor: It’s such a great punch. A Baked Alaska is a literal contradiction, ice cream inside, toasted meringue outside. Using it to describe a beautiful bubble from Hell suggests that the peace we enjoy is a delicate, sugary shell that only exists because we refuse to look at the heat surrounding it.
There is a profound irony in a world that champions authenticity while simultaneously demanding appeasement. We are often told to be ourselves, provided that ourselves remains convenient, quiet, and optimistic. True courage isn't found in the big beautiful bubbles, but in the willingness to be the one who pops them.
We live in a kingdom of quiet. A reality that measures its pulse in the policy of please. Where to be human is to be a ghost of oneself, tolerating at best, And championing at worst, This... normative placidity.
ReplyDeleteWe are treading water in bottomless pools of optimism, Holding our breath so we don’t disturb the surface. We call it loyalty. We call it grace. But look closer... it is only surrender.
It goes without saying, doesn’t it? That this realm has no throne for the courageous. There is no room for the friction of change, Or the heavy, honest weight of a secular terra, a world actually worth fighting for.
Instead, they ask for a price. They ask us to be the meek and mute. A multitude of shadows standing perfectly still. They call this peace, but we know the taste of salt in our mouths. This isn't peace; This is the real-world architecture of capitulation.
And for what? And for whom?
We are enchanted by the illusion, Chasing the shimmer of big, beautiful, real-world bubbles. We sit at the table and eat what we are served: Hell’s best Baked Alaska. Frozen at the heart, burnt on the edges, sweet enough to make you forget... That the truth is melting right between our teeth.