My earliest posts on this space are from 2015. It’s mid-January 2025 as of this post. So this blog is a decade old. I believe it is older but I can’t prove my belief. A decade of words, 371 posts averaging 1500 words per post, 560,000 words or so.
Plus les choses changent, plus elles restent les mêmes.
Pure Totalism posted August 15th, 2015. The characters in our national graphic novel have changed. Some of the predictions of apocalyptic doom have changed their key signatures. The priesthood identified their Great Satan and instead of doom posting about nuclear disasters or Armageddon they shout about the Anti-Christ.
Hollywood is burning. The comté in the Hollywood hills is nearly all ash. Comtesse Bass partied like she was 19 in Ghana as the warnings of extreme conflagration risk escalated. The Comtesse has to maintain her work/life balance, after all. It is objective fact that the comté shall not be threatened, even by nature or god(s). The Universe should know this and obey.
An Ugly Truth
The Universe doesn’t care. No law can be written, punishment executed, manifesto posted online, protest/riot perpetrated or ritual or spell performed, that will bend wind or water to our will. Shit happens and some of it isn’t good. quoi Qu’il arrive, arrivera.
Oh but the angry cries of the Philistine Rabbis of the Woke True Folk, “This conflagration is caused by CLIMATE CHANGE! EVIL MAGA EXTREMISTS SINNED AGAINST THE UNIVERSE AND CAUSED EVIL WINDS TO IGNITE WHITE SUPREMICIST OVERGROWTH!” Uh Huh. Ok, Rabbi Bernie. Rabbi, why don’t you sit in this nice lounge chair. That’s good. Let me cover you with a crocheted blanket. Can I make you a sandwich?
In the LARPing world of the Woke True Folk their rituals and incantations control the weather. About that . . . Didn’t God create the heavens and the earth? It stands to reason that the weather would obey god, not a SHYT bemoaning her maxed out credit card and her stupid boyfriend. The WTF prayed, drank organic, fair trade Cafe Americana’s and broke croissants, chanting اللهم إني أعوذ بك من شر سمعي، ومن شر بصري، ومن شر لساني، ومن شر قلبي، ومن شر نفسي. Because الله is better than God or that terrible stone mason from Nazareth. Palisades still burned.
A Decade Ago of Rinse, Repeat
A popular aphorism, “history doesn’t repeat, it rhymes.” I’m still writing in this space begun a decade ago. I complained about struggling to pay bills back then. The particulars are different but the struggle is the same. This time I am retirement old and on medical leave from driving. I might be done with driving for dollars.
“And then things work out,” I’m off the low point on this curve. Some things have broken my way but I’m not yet out of danger. My sister called, sharing my fear that I would change my address to a shopping cart. I’m more hopeful as I write this. Things will work out for me.
They are lovely. The Woke True Folk stuck at an emotional age of three. Things don’t work out for them. Their attempts at bullying God fail. HRH Obummer was the god-king of their dreams. He would be emperor of a thousand-year dynasty. Not. At Carter’s funeral he joked with Cheetoh Satan. Horrible.
No, But This Time It Will Work
It isn’t working. The LA fires may be caused by arson. Comtesse Bass and Marquis Newsome pursued virtuous reputations and total fealty to pseudo-religious Progressive principles. Defund the police because they are oppressors. City services like fire and paramedics need policies that promote WTF ideology. The Marquis needs his French Laundry tab covered.
The land must heed the dictates of Marquis Newsome. It must be pure and nubile. The Marquis can order Eden’s restoration in the hills above Malibu. It shall be done, his kingdom come, in Brentwood as in paradise. So cutting back over growth and brush is a mortal sin. Best practices like keeping reservoirs full and prestaging crews are too bougie. L’Eden doit être préservé des méfaits des pompiers bourgeois.
Funding for police, fire and rescue went to programs for the homeless and the undocumented. Because the illness was a lack of resources and the cure was redistributing resources to those who needed them. “To each according to their needs”, after all. El Salvadoran gang leaders had a right to first class rooms at the Beverly Hilton, damnit. Frickin bougie people, seriously.
Hungry Maws
It’s consistent with Mao. Mao destroyed everything he touched. An authentic Marquis must follow suit. Newsome is very authentic. Mao built castles everywhere he went. Because the empire shall be restored as a Communist utopia with Mao seated at the throne. The Marquis? Dinner at the French Laundry, so I’d say he’s good.
If you are woke, you are demon food. You have a picc line inserted into your soul that is draining life force from you. If the line has been in you long enough you can’t do good. Everything you touch, like Mao, will be destroyed. I’ll give you this: early on it’s awesome! The demons you feed nurse you because you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup. After awhile though most of the light and love is drained out of you. You no longer taste good and the transformation into a demon is irreversible. Where health was there is now a hungry maw.
Both Marx and Mao were addicts. Marx was a drunk and Mao was addicted to sleeping pills. Addiction is the mortal wound where a demonic picc line can be inserted. California is addicted to the childish fantasies of two addicts.
BTW—I believe Marx’s wife wrote his manifesto. It reads like the laments of a young bride complaining about her useless drunk of a husband.
American Maoism isn’t a direct cause of the fires destroying the hills northeast of LA. It is a cause of the feckless policies of Woke True Folk government leaders that helped turn grass fires into conflagrations.
Come Correct Together
It is a very feminine, tweeny move. Throw a tantrum filled with grand generalities spat out with red faces, tears, and shouts to make a girl lose her voice, “YOU NEVER LOVED ME! YOU HATE ME! I HATE YOU! I’LL NEVER TALK TO YOU EVER, EVER, EVER AGAIN. EVER!” If we are being woke about it, “YOU ARE A RACIST ASSHOLE! YOU HATE BROWN PEOPLE! YOU HATE ME! DEATH WOULD BE TOO GOOD FOR YOU!” Or the monotone Boomer Dad move, “So, you need to understand what’s understood. If you understood, you would agree, and if you agreed, you would come correct. I love you. I don’t love your failure to treat people with kindness. Just come correct and everything will be ok.”
Yeah . . . ok, boomer. My rhythms have a boom and bust cycle. About every quarter I’m in a bust cycle and that shopping cart is stalking me. The past due notices start to fill empty spaces on my desk. Memories of lectures from my Dad about the coulda/woulda/shoulda graduated with a STEM degree and got hired by a White Collar Union Shop where I could build wealth envisioning a comfortable retirement begin to pester me. I write dour posts on this blog bitching about these bust cycles in my life. So entertaining.
Then things work out. Something breaks my way and I climb up the boom side of the cycle. I imagine myself building a hotel styled after a Roman Domus. My penpal is living with me and it’s sinful bliss with her. We eat steak on the regular. Until I reach peak altitude and start descending again.
The Next Ten Years
I was cab driving in 1991 when the Oakland Hills fire ravaged the East Bay. I drove up Ashby on at least one ride and worried about the Claremont Hotel. The Palisades Fire feels similar. There was similar verbal dodge ball. The published cause of the fire today is, “I dunno.” At the time there were rumors of gardeners burning debris at a house in the hills and the fire got away from them. That fire was put out, or so everyone thought. Embers still burning from the gardener’s trash fire lit up again and tragedy ensued.
Once it was out and over the next few years houses were built on the land where the fire destroyed everything. You could tell who had good insurance. Homeowners with full replacement policies were able to build dream homes. Other burned out lots became overgrown fire hazards.
Roughly forty years walking the road less traveled by. Annoying the normies because a few times a year things look bleak until they don’t. If I stay on trend the next ten years will be more of the same. Romantic fool that I am I’ll still chase the mercurial fantasy of a successful business creating content. Hollywood will rebuild. It’s bad now but the good thing about it is that the next part of this sine wave narrative is an upside.