Something I Periodically Write About

19 08 2020


This is today’s Google Doodle on both Google Germany and the big Google.

Lothar Meyer, the co-developer of the periodic table of the elements.  Today would have been his 190th birthday.

Born in Oldenburg, died in 1895 in the city where he spent most of his academic career, that being Nicholas-Stix-Stadt, aka Tübingen.

More than two years ago now, when my quasi-uncle and I were mere tourists here, one of the things that struck me, especially in the latter parts, was that so many of the places we visited were somehow important in the development of some hard science, that it would have made more sense to point out the ones that weren’t.  Then I started to wonder how in the world Germany didn’t wind up being a global superpower.  So dominant was Germany in chemistry, physics and engineering that, as late as the 1920s, the Weimar years, if you were anyone in the world who wanted a serious career in these fields, you absolutely had to learn German.  My quasi-uncle, an early Boomer, and a mechanical engineer during his working years, still felt it necessary to do that, even though he already learned it in K-12, and, if you knew what his last name is, you wouldn’t be surprised.

There are lots of things which prevented Germany from popping off as a superpower, but there’s a hint to one in particular from Meyer’s own life.  He was on faculty at what is now the Karlsruhe Institute of Technology when the Franco-Prussian War of 1871 popped off.  That was the third and most serious of wars waged by what would become neighbors of a unified German state against the unifying territory to prevent unification from happening, the previous two were at the hands of Denmark and the AHE.  The obelisk inside the traffic circle about a mile west of the Brandenburg Gate commemorates the Germans beating back all three belligerencies.  An interesting side note is that France’s inability to win in 1871 weakened it domestically such that actual communists set up a commune in Paris at that time, which of course didn’t last long, but was the inspiration for CHAZ/CHOP in Seattle.

Anyway, back to Meyer, he had to put his academic career on hold to care for injured soldiers and civilians in and around Karlsruhe.  There’s one of the big reasons:  Constant warfare and threat of warfare can create superpowers, but it can also prevent them from developing.  Realizing that the lack of actual warfare on this continent post-WWII is an anomaly in is history.  Also proving why those 21 miles are the Longest Yard in the history of civilization.



20 01 2020

Atlanta;  Memphis

I’ll take the opportunity of the American holiday this is, to reiterate my long standing party line on such things.

Martin Luther King did not create the civil rights movement, the civil rights movement created Martin Luther King. Even if he never existed, the civil rights movement still would have won the victories it actually did. If he would have been born much earlier than 1929, he would have been unable to accomplish much of anything, whereas if he was born much later than 1929, he would have been seen as a charlatan trying to win an already won cause.  I happen to think that Gandhi, another very similarly overrated figure for whom the times made him instead of the other way around, and was far more an effect than a cause of the big historical event to which he is associated, also benefited from the lucky circumstance of being born during the right year.

Bobby Kennedy as Attorney General enthusiastically supported the civil rights movement, but at the same time, his FBI was spying on MLK. It’s easy to think that a contradiction, but it’s not a contradiction when one realizes that MLK was not that critical to the civil rights movement.

In one of the final polls taken before his assassination, the civil rights measures of the Great Society had a very high approval rating, in the 75%-ish neighborhood, but Martin Luther King himself had only a 20-25% approval rating. Once again, that is evidence that, in the public’s mind circa early 1968, Martin Luther King wasn’t that important to the civil rights movement.

I’ll also point to the fact that most white countries enacted race equality and immigration liberalization laws in the same general time frame as the American civil rights movement, in spite of the fact that those other countries did not have a Martin Luther King.  As an example, the country I’m currently in, or rather, the former split part thereof, opened the borders to Turks in 1969, upon the Social Democrats winning national control in West Germany for the first time, though I think that, even if the CDU would have held on, it, too, would have eventually done the same thing;  Remember, Angela Merkel is CDU.

The real and taboo for discussion in polite society causes of the success of the civil rights movement were: (1) Organized activist Jewish interests winning key marginal control and influence in key American institutions in the 1930s, and (2) The outcome of World War II.  Everything else was inevitable from there.  No matter what happened or didn’t happen, no matter who may or may not have won elections, no matter which preachers became national public figures or not, no matter which assassins’ bullets would have hit or missed their important targets, everything that eventually happened in terms of the post-WWII civil rights movement were big fancy footnotes to, and inevitable consequences of, those two big historical phenomena I just described. (*)

And the reason our sector calls this holiday today “James Earl Ray Day” isn’t just to be snide, but because Ray’s single thirty-aught-six round made MLK something in death that he never really was in life.

As an aside, we’re only seven years away from the MLK files being unsealed. If they tell us what we all suspicion they do, and if it does so happen that it causes public outrage, in spite of what we all know will be the mainstream media ignoring the matter, then Official America will diffuse the situation by reminding us of what I just wrote, that MLK wasn’t important to the civil rights movement, and the only reason for the holiday was the collective feeling sorry for him and his widow and children because he was assassinated.

(*) – I say this to head off our own sector’s propensity to play “what if history” games that involve the civil rights movement never being successful if only a few votes in an election had shifted or the assassin’s aim would have been slightly different.  My contention is that the only difference that, say, Nixon beating JFK in 1960, or Oswald missing JFK’s head instead of hitting it, or Isola Curry would have wound up hitting MLK in the right spot in the heart with her knife on September 20, 1958, or any other similar slight “game of inches” circumstance you could think of, all it would have meant in the long run is a slight alteration in the timeline of the circumstances that happened in the real world.  For example, it would have meat the Civil Rights Act that passed in 1964 wouldn’t have passed until 1969, the Voting Rights Act that passed in 1965 may have passed in 1961, or the immigration bill in 1965 wouldn’t have happened until 1978.


10 11 2019


November 9, 1989 is for Germans what November 22, 1963 and September 11, 2001 is for Americans.

The “where were you and what were you doing when you learned that…” moment.  The main difference is that JFK and 9/11 were immediate flash events;  The fall of the Berlin Wall, or more accurately, East German authorities no longer enforcing out-travel restrictions as of the evening of November 9, 1989, had a lot that needed to happen before it could happen, and then a lot of things happened as a result of it.

I’ve already gone over the Cliffs Notes of the history.  Except I should have mentioned something then, that I figured out in the car on the way to Berlin night before last as we zoomed by the old Helmstedt-Marienborn Inner German Border checkpoint, and yes, during the summer voyage summer before last, I saw the museum and remnants at that spot.  November 9, 1989 didn’t immediately abolish the Inner German Border — That didn’t happen formally until July 1 of the next year;  The CDU government headed by Lothar de Maizière elected in the DDR in March of the next year in the DDR’s only genuinely democratic elections needed to happen, and then his government abolished the Inner German Border security, and of course his government was just the placeholder for the DDR’s part in negotiating “German reunification,” i.e. the DDR being abolished and its territory joining the Bundesrepublik Deutschland (colloquially “West Germany” until 1990) per Article 23 of the Bundesrepublik’s Basic Law.

I was 12 years old and in the 7th grade on that day, and my teachers and most of my classmates followed along with the daily series of events, because we all knew this was big history happening right in front of our faces.

My girlfriend was only two and a half years old, her sister nine months old, her brother-in-law three months old, that day, so this could not have been a “where were you and what were you doing” moment for them.  My g/f’s father was 31 and her mother 27 on that day, so the next time I see one or both of them, (we’ll be motoring on outta here very shortly, but we won’t get back to Cologne in time for me to join them all for Sunday Rinderbraten), I’ll ask them where they were and what were they doing.

Just in the past year, I’ve been to the centennial of the Armistice of World War I in Compiègne last November 11, the 75th anniversary of D-Day at Omaha Beach back on June 6, and then, yesterday, here.  That’s one of the perks of this job, being here to be party to significant anniversaries of some big events and right where they happened.

And if you would have told 12-year old me on November 9, 1989, that I would be right there on site at the 30th anniversary commemoration of this event, I would have told you you were crazy.


There was a big disconnect between the way the German, American and international media portrayed the bittersweet nature of the day, and the attitude of most people on the ground about the bittersweet nature of the day.

The only thing in common between the two sides is the bittersweet mentality.

The disconnect is really easy to explain:

The media and political establishment thought that 30 years ago Saturday leading up to the day after Christmas 1991, the formal dissolution of the Soviet Union, was the process which meant the Fukuyamaite “end of history.”  But in the generation since then, the promise of utopian liberal democracy has been unrealized, and is now being set back by those white populists and nationalists who stubbornly continue to take their own side.  The German media in particular also used the day as another opportunity to squeal about the lingering east-west divide.

Germans on the ground in Berlin on Saturday were bittersweet, because the grassroots mentality starting 30 years ago Saturday and peaking on the day of formal reunification the next year was that, now, finally, the Russians and Americans would take their troops and go home, and Germany could finally become genuinely independent and a true global power and maybe even superpower, and at the very least, quit being a vassal-client of either.  In that time, obviously the Russians left in very short order, mainly because the USSR proper was itself on its last leg.  But American disengagement from Germany has been a much more slow process, and still to this day not consummated.  While the American military footprint in Germany has been declining, what has not abated is American soft power.  Yes, I know I write that rather unironically.

To wit, and as a very small example:  The new Reagan statue debuted on Friday very near the exact spot where Reagan stood on the high podium to deliver the “Tear Down This Wall” address.  While JFK is openly honored about two miles southwest of that point, at the old West Berlin City Hall, the site of “Ich Bin Ein Berliner,” (and miss me with the jelly donut nonsense, that’s fake news), the reason why the Reagan statue there and now rubs Germans a little bit of the wrong way is because Americans are continuing to use Germany for American political ends, when by now, they thought we would have been long gone.

So that basically sums up the disconnect.  Politicians and the media are upset that populism and nationalism still exist, while grassroots Germans are upset that Germany is still an American vassal-client.


Ball Rolling

7 10 2019


Big things tend to happen gradually, then suddenly.

Thirty years ago today, gradually shifted to suddenly.

I’ve already gone over the history.



“Sacrifice” Is Not an Idle Word

11 06 2019

Wiesbaden; Bayeux, France

We’ve got a bit of ground to cover.


The 50th anniversary of D-Day was on June 6, 1994. That day was either the second-to-last or last day of finals for my junior year of high school, can’t remember which. That day, before my first final that day and also in the time between my first and second, one of my school’s English teachers set up a TV in his room so anyone who wanted to watch the ceremonies of the 50th could do so, and of course I did.

Aside from everything else that was running through my mind on Thursday, a day which had earlier that week been predicted to be all cloudy and rainy, but turned out to be partly sunny with no rain, thankfully, how heavy the day was from the standpoint of history, how this was me making it up for this my first Memorial Day I wasn’t able to visit any of my relatives at Jefferson Barracks, (foreshadowing there, I’ll get to it), and of course the low key networking and meeting some extremely important people, let’s just leave it at that, and adding to the fact that my worldview and perspective about the day 75 years ago and history of the matter is rather and substantially different than the typical person in attendance, one thing that occurred to me was that, if you would have told me on June 6, 1994, that, 25 years to the day in the future, that I would be in attendance at that very place I was looking at on that TV that day, in attendance at the 75th anniversary, and also the capacity in which I was there, leaving everything else out, I would have been rather surprised and pleased. Me at 17 couldn’t really fathom what me at 42 is doing.

One thing that struck me about the day and the proceedings themselves was how subdued everything was, compared to what I watched on TV on the 50th, and what I later on watched from the 40th. I think that was just a matter of time and the way of all flesh, that all the remaining living D-Day vets are nonagenarians; An 18-year old in 1944 is 93 years old this year, but figure on some 16 and 17 year olds of the time lying their age upward and the recruiters looking the other way, and 16 in ’44 means 91 this year.  Such as it was, there were D-Day vets there as “young” as 91. And when it comes to first world men in our era, 86 years of age is actuarially speaking where you start living on borrowed time. Since there are so few D-Day and in fact WWII vets remaining, D-Day at 75 was way closer to a history lecture than the reunion atmosphere that, say, 50 and 40 was. Also consider that the world leaders, heads of state and heads of government who were in attendance were born after the end of WWII, so none of them were speaking of an event that they were alive to witness. Emmanuel Macron, who did show up, even though he said about two weeks ago that he wouldn’t, was born in the same year I was. As you know, back in November, I went to Compiègne for the ceremony observing the centennial of the final Armistice of World War I, and what transpired on Thursday felt way more like that than the 40th or 50th D-Day anniversaries. Such as it is, the final WWI veteran, a British woman who served in the women’s auxiliary of the (at the time) fledgling British air force, died in 2012, so there were zero WWI vets alive to observe the Armistice centennial.


Paris on Friday, was, well, Paris. Il pleut, il pleut, il pleut. Oh well, at least the pleut held off on the day that really mattered. I only planned to be there that day, not wishing to be there on a Saturday while the yellow vest movement is still a thing. So I saw just the very top level sights, the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Élysées and all associated with it, the Louvre, Versailles, and (what’s left of) Notre Dame. I hope to go back later to do a deeper dive, but I just wanted to do it in case for some reason I can’t ever go back. With these things, you may only ever get one shot.


Got back to Cologne on Saturday, and spent the rest of that day and Sunday packing to head to Wiesbaden for the summer, which I did yesterday, and started rehab today. I told you in a previous post that May 20 was the last day I needed to use the wheelchair, and that was the start of the six month stopwatch. Well, I had a setback this morning, and had it while at my first rehab session, so I couldn’t hide it. I didn’t stay down for long, but unfortunately, what it does is reset the six month stopwatch at zero all over again. Meaning December 11, if I have no more reoccurrences.

I can’t help but think that the setback was as much psychological as much as physical, from what you’re about to read.


Now the hard part.

In August, after my father’s funeral, and with me preparing for the trans-Atlantic move, both my only remaining blood uncle and my quasi-uncle (said remaining blood uncle’s ex-wife’s brother, whose house I was living in for most of my recovery, and he’s the one who accompanied me during the summer voyage), came to me at separate instances, and presumably independently of each other, to tell me the same thing: That I should not feel any need or pressure to fly back across the ocean and come back to St. Louis for their funeral, if something happened to either one of them while I was living overseas. Both of them used the exact words: “Don’t come back for me.”

As you know, my American and St. Louis (area code 314) cell phone number is virtual ported to my German cell number, for two reasons: One, to keep my long time 314-xxx-xxxx cell number mine the time if and when I come back home, and two, so that if anyone back home needs to call me, it will not be an international toll or metered call for them, even though it is for me on my end. I was always expecting such texts and calls to be important and decidedly less than good news. And in almost all instances, the caller ID properly transfers internationally, so I can filter the numbers I know and ignore the robocalls, of which I get plenty attempted.

Yesterday, while on the train, the quasi-uncle called me, and after I told him I was still en route, he told me to call him back when I got settled in, because he had something important, but wanted to wait to break it to me until I was no longer on the move.

I suppose by now you can figure out what it was. I knew at the time what it had to be; The only open question was who.  (Even though I knew who it wasn’t).

It was my uncle. It happened on Wednesday. He was 72 years old. Heart attack, preliminary cause. It was actually his second heart attack; He had one in 1998.

My cousin, his only daughter, and in fact, his only child, called him that morning, with no problems, with the intent of stopping by his place later that evening to pick something up and leave something. “His place,” where he lived by himself since he and my aunt divorced, and before that, where they lived together since 1978. It’s where I lived for the first month and a half of recovery, and when I got out of the second hospitalization stint, as I now know because of that matter between Norm and the person who will just be called E., I was not taken back to my uncle’s house after being released then, I was instead taken to my quasi-uncle’s house close to Waterloo. Anyway, my cousin and her husband stopped by Wednesday evening as promised, and found him on the floor lifeless, and called 911.

He was by himself for this the second heart attack, but not so with the first. We’ll forever be left to wonder if he could have gotten help soon enough to save his life if he wasn’t by himself this time.

When the quasi-uncle got done telling me everything, I was going to ask him why he didn’t call me on Wednesday, why he waited so long. But I stopped myself, because I could already figure out the answer before I even asked the question: I already told him (and my uncle, and a few others back in St. Louis), about my D-Day week itinerary, and he didn’t want to spoil it or anything for me. He timed his calling me to when he thought the hustle and bustle of the week was behind me, and when he did, he was almost spot on.

Wednesday was the travel day between Cologne and Bayeux for me. The way I figure now, I probably would have been some kind of way emotionally speaking having to deal with and think about all this, while in the middle of going there then being there for an important anniversary of an important military event and meeting very important people on top of that.  So not telling me right when it happened was the right call.

My uncle himself was a ‘Nam combat vet, so of course the final services will be at Jefferson Barracks, in fact, later this week. He will now be my fifth male vet relative to be at JB, joining my eldest aunt’s husband (November 1988), my mother’s mother’s youngest brother (November 2012), my elder uncle (July 2013), and my father (August 2018).

I was told that, in the early days of my recovery, during the time of my brain being in a zombie state, I could spout my uncle’s land line phone number easily, but not my own cell number at all. Only because he had it and lived in that house since the year after I was born, meaning that phone number was one of the very first I was made to memorize starting from the earliest of my ability to know what phone numbers are and in turn memorize them. My ability to recite my uncle’s landline but not my cell was a matter of the longest-implanted memories being the ones that were available for my at the time very limited cognition, or the memories that I had attained relatively recently were the ones that weren’t occurring to me. Which is the way it is for most TBI cases. You’ll remember that when I returned to blogging after returning to functional coherence in the middle of November 2017, that some of your screen names and real names (in the cases of those of you who use your real names) were unfamiliar to me, and that it took another two months for most of my short term memory to lock back into place. To this day, I know that not all of my pre-accident short term memory has come back, and it probably never will.

In principle, I could fly back to St. Louis and be there at the funeral. But I also know that it was also the last request he ever made of me to my face and in direct terms: “Don’t come back for me.” He knew what you all know, that I was going to D-Day then after getting back, turning right around to live in a different city for the summer to do rehab. He would not want me breaking or interrupting rehab to come back for him. Especially since he was critically involved in the first month and a half of my recovery, and importantly involved in other ways after that. He’s one of the last people who would want me not to see this rehab through properly and diligently just for his own sake.

Such as it is, the very house in which he left this world is technically my legal St. Louis and American address, for the purposes of official residence. How that came to be was something I wrote here in the spring of last year, that my Richmond Heights apartment lease was up on March 1, 2018, but it would not be for another half a month that it was medically safe to leave me by myself, so it made no sense to renew the lease, to keep on paying rent drawing down on my nest egg for a place I wouldn’t be able to live in or use. But at the same time I had to keep a Missouri address for my Missouri CCW permit and drivers’ license, even though I was living with the quasi-uncle near Waterloo (note to dummies: It’s in Illinois) for close to six months by then. So I used my uncle’s house. Since that house will most likely be sold in the coming months to years, I’m eventually going to have to talk with my lawyer back in St. Louis about my options in that stead. The people who eventually buy that house won’t want mail for an expatriated nephew of the guy who died inside of it to keep coming to them. I’m going to miss that house, because it was sorta my second home all throughout my childhood, and it’s where I would have lived permanently if (G.F.) something would have happened to my mother during my childhood, and such as it is, I actually did live there for brief periods when my mother was hospitalized during the few times she was during my childhood.

Not being able to go this funeral is going to hurt, in spite of it all.


Bringing things full circle, the summer of 1994, the summer after the 50th, is one where it seemed like I spent half my waking hours in funeral homes and cemeteries. That was a bad summer for relatives and quasi-relatives dying. It was also a summer of transition for me personally in a lot of other ways. I wrote above that me on June 6, 1994 couldn’t grok that me of June 6, 2019 is doing what I’m doing, but by the end of that summer, I could have.

I suppose the theme of the last week for me was sacrifice, both the ones I have made to chase my dreams, and the ones others made a long time ago supposedly to save the world.

When they say “sacrifice,” they mean it. It’s not just some idle word.

They Can Show You Better Than I Can Tell You

6 05 2019

Your Blogmeister’s German Desk

Remember this?

Earlier today, this video hit:

Note that Edward III gets mentioned early on. Also, a point that is somewhat given the short shrift here is the mathematical evidence of the reality of human inbreeding. Not of the Deliverance variety, but of the fact that tribes, ethnicities, nations and races are mildly and medically non-dangerously inbred groups of people that are more closely related to each other than to humanity in general.

Getting High

22 04 2019

Your Blogmeister’s German Desk

First off, I’ll be burning my two ended candle at three ends from now until the weekend after D-Day.  The main attractions will be the 75th anniversary of D-Day itself, and the MEP elections on May 26.

So, expect my blog and social postings to be pretty sparse for the while.


Now, for the main attraction.

I’m testing out my powers of inference and implication, and my ability to formulate theories.

I have come to notice that the language that is called Hochdeutsch (“High German”), aka textbook German, is in terms of accent and dialect pretty much on par with the way German is spoken in the modern day state of Schweig-Holstein and surrounding areas.

What it means is that, some point in the past, German(ic) society(-ies) and/or elites somehow came to either a deliberate decision or a cultural consensus that the dialect and accent of Schweig-Holstein and the former names of that region are more proper or better, and that the entire German speaking world should be standardized around it.

I’m asking myself:  Why?

I have come up with two theories, one bad, and one probable.

(1)  Prussia.  The Prussian state was the spine of the first attempt at a unitary unified German nation-state, the German Empire.  And Prussia, at the time and at its peak of territorial control, included S-H.

The problem with that theory is that Prussia also included a lot more than modern day S-H.  And its center of power was Prussia’s own capital, Berlin, which is why Berlin became the capital of a unified Germany, and that continued through the Weimar Republic, the Third Reich, partially during the Wall and Curtain Days, and once again in the Reunification Era.  By all geographical rights, a city that big has no business being where it is.  But it’s there, believe me, it’s there.

What that means is that Prussia contained a lot of dialects and accents.  Therefore, if High German had anything to do with Prussian swag, it would have probably been the case that German spoken in and around Berlin would have been the model for language standardization.

But I think there’s a better, older, more deeply rooted explanation:

(2)  The Hanseatic League.  The areas along and close to the North and Baltic sea coasts, including modern day S-H, were Hanseatic territory for the longest among all the territory that would eventually become one version or another of a unified Germany.  And the League’s territories were, as you could probably guess, way more prosperous than anywhere else in what would eventually become Germany.  Which probably means that dialects and accents in Hanseatic territory eventually got a reputation as being “better than” the others.  If you wanted in on any chance of making a career or fortune from Hanseatic commerce, you had to learn their particular dialect.

So you can probably see that over the centuries, even after the League dissipated and, as the young folks today say, was no longer A Thing, that this left a cultural imprint on Germanic peoples.  Forget about the ongoing legacy of slavery, how about about the ongoing legacy of a trade and commercial league whose power peaked in the fifteenth century.

The ongoing legacy also manifested in terms of wealth.  As one of many examples, Heinrich Hertz, a pioneer of radio science, had enough of a personal fortune as late as the second half of the nineteenth century, because he was an heir to a rich Hanseatic family.  Remember, by that time, the League had been pretty much extinct for about two hundred years.  Yet and still, even after two centuries of anyone being able to make any serious fortunes from it, its prominent families still had enough to will down comfortable living amounts to people of that generation.  Hertz, for his part, was born in Hamburg, which was a prominent HL city, and to this day, it (and nearby Bremen) both call themselves “Free Hanseatic Cities,” even though they’re just Federal states like the thirteen current others.  Other cities along and near the North and Baltic seas and even ones inland in the general region call themselves Hanseatic Cities, and proclaim such on, among other things, the orange city limits signs as you come into town.  Another clue to the League’s legacy is something I’ve now used three times:  Lufthansa.  Based here in Cologne, a city which was part of the League at its peak.


I will eventually do the research to find out whether my theories are true.  However, I’m not going to do it right away;  I have my reasons for holding off.  So if you happen to know, don’t spoil it for me in the comment section.

Armistice Centennial

11 11 2018

Compiègne, France

“The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month”

Precisely a century ago from the moment I am uploading this post.  I actually wrote it three days ago for upload at this precise time, 11 AM CEST, November 11, 2018, because, by the time it goes live, I’ll be in Compiègne for the centennial observation.  If all goes well, I’ll be back here in France, and namely, Omaha Beach, for the 75th anniversary of D-Day, on June 6.

Onward and upward.

Efforts like these or movements like these aren’t complicated at all to explain, especially in the German context.

The war that ended precisely a century ago was a clusterfuck based on a flaw in the European paradigm of secret treaties as a deterrent to war and a deterrent to future Napoleon wannabes.  That paradigm really kicked into high gear after Napoleon.  The theory behind secret treaty-ism was that it was supposed to prevent national-level invasions — A won’t invade B, because A doesn’t know which other countries B is strapped up with, while B knows which countries B is strapped up with, and knows that A doesn’t know.  For the same reason, A has confidence that B won’t invade them, because A knows which countries A is strapped up with, but B doesn’t know, and A knows that B doesn’t know.  Sort of a Nash Equilibrium applied to big time military geopolitics.

Well, we all know how it went wrong.  In an overall general sense, it made all of Europe suspicious of each other and paranoid about each other, precisely because every country was looking sideways at every other country, even ones with which they were secretly allied, because nobody ever knew of the other countries’ secret side arrangements.  Which is why many forward-looking clairvoyant observant people in the decade leading up to the start of WWI openly stated that Europe was stinking from the stench of the predication to major warfare.  Specifically, because some minor royal in a place that Bismarck himself stated the whole of which wasn’t worth the bones of a single Pomeranian grenadier got assassinated, and that started a domino effect of calling in secret treaty obligations, ending up with Europe being at war with itself, and eventually the United States entering because the American elite of the time basically bet on England, which means they influenced Wilson to goad the Germans into torpedoing an America-to-England boat with both American civilians and illegal munitions.

We know the history of the rest in terms of the German context:  Defeat in the “Great War,” end of the monarchy/-ies, near-breakup of the unitary German nation-state, brief Communist takeovers in Munich and Hamburg, impossible reparations, hyperinflation, depression, Weimarism, Hitler.

Many centuries from now, historians will consider World War I and World War II to be the same war, with a barely more than two-decade intermission.

The people seeking to “rehabilitate the German Empire” in an intellectual historical sense, and the people who form rural marksmanship clubs and pine for the Deutsches Kaiserreich aren’t really trying to rehabilitate the German Empire and really aren’t pining for the Deutsches Kaiserreich.  What’s really going on here from a psychological sense is rather simple:  Absolving Imperial Germany for the blame it never should have gotten for World War I means somewhat absolving Germany for World War II, and, eventually, giving modern day Germans a mulligan on the chance to be an international superpower.

My advice to Germans so dreaming, especially as someone living here as an expat from another superpower and at the same time has a supermajority ethnic constitutional heritage from this country, is this:  Be careful what you wish for.  Empires aren’t so great, even for most citizens or subjects of the imperial country’s proper territory.  Or, you don’t know how good you have it now, and that the grass is actually browner on the other side.

The Third of October

3 10 2018

Munich;  Berlin

October 3 is to Germans what July 4 is to Americans.

The process known colloquially as “German reunification” was formally and legally consummated 28 years ago today.  Which must have meant that Oktoberfest 1990 was really special.

I was in the seventh grade for the most part when it all went down, though the final events of German reunification happened in the first month of my eighth grade.

It all started almost a year before, on October 7, 1989, on the “celebration” of the 40th anniversary of East Germany (“40-Jahre DDR”).  Erich Honecker and Nicolae Ceaușescu were both there, among many other commies.  Little could either of them know that, eleven days later, the former would be out of a job, and eighty days later, the latter would be out of a life.  Anyway, that evening, protests in East Berlin and other then-East German cities, including (and this should sound familiar) Chemnitz, then known as Karl-Marx-Stadt, started rolling the snowball downhill.  And you know most of the rest.  While the DDR technically lived to see 40, it would not live to see 41.  And to show you how fast things can move, a wall that was extant and militarized on October 7, 1989 came crumbling down so fast, both figuratively and literally, that supposed pieces of it were on sale at Famous-Barr locations in St. Louis that Christmas shopping season, though even then and even at the age of twelve, I figured the turnaround was too soon, and those pieces for sale were fake.

One of the forgotten elements to the history of German reunification is what happened in March 1990.  Then, the DDR held the only open elections in its history, and of course the East German CDU won handily, installing what turned out to be a placeholder Prime Minister to negotiate the DDR’s part for reunification, he being an heir to a long time Franco-Prussian Huguenot family.  Even before then, from 1949 to 1989, political parties other than the East German Socialist Unity Party, the one party of the one party state, technically did exist, the East German CDU was one of them, it’s just that they weren’t permitted any legislative power based on a “constitutional technicality” (cough cough).  Anyway, that was one of the things that made reunification as a legal and diplomatic process much easier.

Also, one of the things that made reunification easier is that, legally speaking, German reunification wasn’t really reunification.  Like I wrote above, “German reunification” is a colloquial term.  Legally, what happened is that the entity colloquially called “East Germany,” legally the Deutsche Demokratische Republik (DDR), abolished itself, and its territory joined the entity colloquially called “West Germany,” legally the Bundesrepublik Deutschland, and then that enlarged country became colloquially called “Germany” but legally with the same name.  Along with the March 1990 elections, what helped that process was a provision (“Article 23”) in the BRD (though that acronym was and still is largely frowned upon) Basic Law (constitution) that permitted territory to “ascend to observing the Basic Law” (i.e. joining the BRD) with a simple majority vote in both the existing BRD and the new territory.  And that did indeed happen.

But it was a little more complicated than that.  West Berlin, during the wall and curtain days, was associated with West Germany, but never legally part of it.  Reunification meant that the West Berlin territory and residents also “ascended to observing the Basic Law” formally, and then it and the former East Berlin were combined to form the city-state of Berlin within the suddenly larger BRD.  Speaking of Berlin, when the Berlin Wall fell, I thought that it was a gimme that Germany would reunify and the capital would move back to Berlin.  While the reunification part was an easy layup, and while the capital was eventually moved back to Berlin, that part was not the gimme that it seemed it would have been in November 1989.  In reality, the proposal was very contentious, it was a close vote in the reunified Bundestag, and on top of that, it was not an instantaneous process (did not happen formally until 1999), and it was not a consummate process, as most of the BRD bureaucratic and administrative functions that were in Bonn during the West Germany days did not move, stayed there, and are still there to this day.  Which means that it was simply more or less moving the legislative capital in terms of elected Federal politicians back to Berlin, but little else.  Not to mention other government offices that were spread around West Germany in cities other than Bonn, including one you know, the Supreme Court in Karlsruhe.

One other issue that had to be ironed out before reunification is that, since West Germany and Poland never shared a border, only East Germany and Poland did, the BRD had to accept the Oder-Neisse Line as the permanent eastern boundary between what suddenly became a larger BRD and Poland.  Also, the provision of the Basic Law used to add the DDR to the BRD, Article 23, was amended such that it excluded any legal possibility of adding territory under Article 23 from east of the O-N Line.  Eventually, Article 23 was totally eliminated and replaced with some EU mumbo jumbo, which means legally speaking, Germany cannot add any more territory.  Which is just as well, because just about all of what used to be Germany but isn’t anymore was ethnically cleansed decades ago.  The only one that wasn’t was the Alsace, but if it ever comes to be where the Alsace is not part of France anymore, it will become an independent state instead of part of Germany again.  Especially since much of the EU is planted in Strasbourg.

In the years since reunification, we came to find out that the then Israeli PM, Yitzhak Shamir, in addition to being publicly opposed to German reunification out of spite and “principle,” (i.e. hatred of Germans), he tried to do a whole lot behind the scenes to prevent it.  Margaret Thatcher, who never expressed a public opinion on the matter, also tried to prevent it behind the scenes.  Mainly because of Britain’s long standing policy of seeing to it that no single entity on the continent ever becomes that powerful.  Even though through 1990 she was standing on shaky political ground in her own country, which was not apparent to the rest of the world until November when she resigned as PM.  Gorby was too busy trying to save the dying Soviet Union to care.  So what made the difference?  One of the few really positive things he ever did — George H. W. Bush was whole hog in favor of reunification, and of course he was Commander-in-Chief of by far the biggest piece on that chess board.  The Bush family itself being mostly of mixed English-German heritage.  That is, until Jeb! married that bowling ball, bringing that something-something into the woodpile.  Besides, the Vice-President behind “Tear Down This Wall” couldn’t have said no.

Muh Slabry Problem — And Ours

19 07 2018


This has made me think of something.

Team Social Justice can’t get its story or narrative straight on American slavery.

On the one hand, it was so horrible, that the farther and farther away we get from its abolition, the worse and worse its effects are on black babies’ bodies.  That whole “muh ongoing legacy” thingy.  And also, Ta Coates and reparations.

On the other hand, public visual-spatial reminders that slavery ever existed cannot be permitted, because triggering, microaggressions, trauma, Post-Traumatic Slavery Disorder.

Combine the two, and what do you get?

We’re supposed to hate something that we’re not allowed to see ever existed.

As far as that goes, slavery is the new (or old) Haven Monahan.

The Most Special Fulfilling Day of My Life

17 06 2018

Wittenberg, Germany

I said I wasn’t going to write any posts while on the trip.

But, today has been…well, you read the title.  A real red letter day in my life.  So I’m using some of my precious hostel WiFi time tonight, (it’s after 10:30 PM in Germany and the entire CEDT zone as I write this), to tell you all.

By pure luck, coincidence, or maybe something otherworldly at work, the itinerary got us here to Wittenberg on a Sunday.  Which means you can probably figure out where we went to church this morning, and which other church we spent some time in early this afternoon.  In contrast to last Sunday, when I was in another city on the Elbe River, downstream, that being Hamburg, when and where I thought the better of actually attending any church in that city.  Even though one of Hamburg’s church steeples was for a short time the world’s tallest man-made structure.

Of course we saw what are probably the most famous church doors in all of world history.  And you know?  Upon a very close look, I could swear I saw some half millennium old glue residue.

I became upset when I wasn’t able to return to mental functional coherence in time fully to appreciate the observed 500th anniversary of the 95 Theses, that being October 31, 2017;  As you know, it wouldn’t be for another two weeks until I got well enough for something like that.  But, this makes up for it, and then some, and then some, and then some, and then some, and then some.  It’s still the 500 years (plus some change) year, so I’ll score that as a win for myself.

Surreal…supernatural…soul-shaking…not powerful enough words to describe the impact of this day on me.

Today was the first of three whole days here in what I call the “Luther Region,” including Wittenberg, obviously, but also Dessau-Roblau, Leipzig, Halle, Eisleben, and other nearby towns important to Luther lore.  Near Leipzig, we’ll be making an ironic visit to another important but more recent German historical figure.

And because of that, we’re surely going to visit Worms once we make our way back around to the other side of the country.  Because I’m on a diet.


Of course, anything any churches in this town had going on late this afternoon and into the evening was canceled, because Germany’s first World Cup game was this evening, which of course we watched from a beer hall.  We happen to be in a soccer crazy country, whose national team is a favorite to win the World Cup, (in fact, Germany won it four years ago), during the time of the World Cup, which means God Himself has to take a back burner for ninety minutes of clock time.

The atmosphere in the beer hall during the game was, to say the very least, spirited and raucous.  To put it accurately, it got me so charged up that I had half a notion to invade the Sudetenland.  By comparison, a ‘Bama crowd in a Birmingham sports bar on an autumn Saturday night would seem like an overnight at a retirement home.  I hardly like soccer, but I don’t think I’ve never had so much fun doing something I don’t like.

Obviously the only downer to this late afternoon was that Germany lost the game.

I just wish Germans would quit outsourcing their patriotism to soccer.  Though I’m a fine one to talk — I come from a country whose native born white people outsource their patriotism to the football team that represents the nearest land grant university, and to Israel.  Stones, glass houses, n’est pas?

Yet and still, that was just some very nice icing on the cake to this day.

I wonder who the American media were rooting for. Did they want Germany to win, because Angela Merkel hearts immigrants and refugees, in order to spite Trump? Or did they want Mexico to win, because of immigrants, and media members’ undocumented nannies and housekeepers, in order to spite Trump?

I’m also surprised that in the Moscow stadium where this game was played, that there were way many more Mexico fans than I would have thought, maybe even a majority of the house. Moscow, not being that far from Germany, you would have thought 99% of the stadium would have been Germans. Mexico, by contrast, is not that prosperous of a country, on the other side of the world. Perhaps most of the Mexico crowd at the stadium are well to do Mexican-Americans?


Yesterday, which was our third and final day in Der Hauptstadt, was also very special.  Here, I’m going to have to be way more coy, because of all the flies on the wall.  Let’s just say I met important people, who hooked me up with meeting more important people, and came away with two important recent German language political books autographed by the author.  I will only fill in the blanks for those of you who I know and trust.

And yes, I’ve been paying attention to the political upheaval happening under my nose, literally under my nose, for three days, because it’s all been going down in Berlin.  While it was on the top of Drudge most of the weekend, and a big story in the world media, the German media are treating it as only the second most important story going, not quite as important as…you guessed it.

Angela Merkel is really on the ropes, and could join the ranks of Der Arbeitslose by next week. Mainly because of the instability within her own party-coalition, the CDU-CSU.

The root cause of all this is the very tenuous red-orange-yellow-green-blue-indigo-sienna-peach-mauve-magenta-fuchsia-apricot-navy-grape-pink-teal-pine-black-lemon-brown-burgundy-aquamarine coalition that it took to return Merkel to power. Of course, all that was a function of trying to string together a string bean coalition of everyone-but-AfD. At first, it worked, kinda, even after a false start. But the constant threat to such arrangements is that they are houses of cards, and have all the stability of them. Just don’t anyone in the whole country let out a big hard sneeze. And that’s just what the new Interior Minister, who is Bavarian, and leads the CSU, did.

I’d like to claim credit for what looks to be the end of Merkel’s political career, just because I happen to be in-country and was in-city. But I don’t think I’d even eat my own dog food.


Reality check time:

Going forward, unless the “untouchable” AfD either falls off the map, or attains an absolute majority of the vote, those two extremes seem to be unlikely in the relatively near future, or one of the “mainstream” parties works up the courage to call on the AfD, also unlikely, considering this is the country that is seriously mulling throwing out the American ambassdor, Richard Grennell, because he openly supports a neighboring country’s head of government (Sebastian Kurz in Austria) only because Kurz worked up the courage to call on Austria’s AfD-style pop-nat-right parties and factions, and the German political class interprets that as Grennell telegraphing/dog-whistling support for the AfD domestically, (which he denies in public), then German politics are going to be stuck on Groundhog Day for quite some time to come. Government falls apart, new elections, AfD gets a significant percentage, but nowhere near a majority, “mainstream” parties agree to nervous string bean rainbow color coalitions to box out the AfD, the agreement lasts about as long as a snowball in hell, government falls apart, new elections, lather rinse repeat.

Another issue is that if Merkel is ousted this week, then who?  While the CDU-CSU could pick a new leader, he or she would probably not be acceptable to the other parties in the rainbow coalition.  But the only kind of person that they would accept, because that person would be the new head of government, wouldn’t be acceptable to the CDU-CSU.  Which means, new elections, but back on the Mobius Loop.  Groundhog Day.

Long and short is that German politics are stuck with her. They can’t live with her, and they can’t live without her.


To give you a halftime report, and thanks to the fact that I have along with me a heavily marked up on its way to being even more marked up road atlas of Germany and surrounding countries (*) I bought off of some obese French ghost who also sold me the tires on my car that I may never get to drive again, I’ll just state here which cities and towns we’ve spent significant time in so far, not counting the ones we’ve just passed through:

Frankfurt -> Bonn -> Cologne -> Dusseldorf -> Moers -> Venlo, Netherlands -> Duisburg -> Essen -> Dortmund -> Munster -> Osnabruck -> Oldenburg -> Bremen -> Hamburg -> Hannover -> Braunschweig -> Wolfsburg -> Helmstedt (i.e. the old BRD-DDR border Charlie Checkpoint) -> Magdeburg -> Brandenburg -> Potsdam -> Berlin -> Frankfurt (Oder) -> Slubice, Poland -> Rzepin, Poland -> Berlin -> Luther Region

You won’t get a full report and travelogue until we get home.  But, make sure you check out my Minds feed, where I’ve been teasing everyone with more frequent updates.


(*) – Including something called “Benelux.”  I bought it back at home, to make sure I have a version where English is one of the languages, (this particular one is in six languages), and to avoid what I knew would be a much higher price for the same atlas here in Germany, where most everything is significantly more expensive, sometimes way more expensive — But that’s for the travelogue.  Back to the point:  Benelux?  Doesn’t one vacuum one’s carpets and rugs with a Benelux?  Then I looked it up, and it’s a portmanteau of Belgium, Netherlands and Luxembourg, and in fact, the three countries have a political union of the same name, very similar to the Visegrad Group, one of the countries in that group I’m making my way towards and will be in for several days.  Yet and still, would it have killed the obese French ghost to print “Belgium, Netherlands, Luxembourg” instead of the portmanteau which almost nobody has heard of?  Also, this atlas contains the Czech Republic, which I’m headed to, but indicates it as “Czechia.”  Which may be grammatically correct, but it’s easy to confuse it with Chechnya, which of course is not a country, even though people of a certain peaceful religion want it to be.

Hate Crime

22 05 2018

Cool, right?

Not so fast.

The map is in the Mercator projection, which SJWs today inform us is a form of hate speech.

FDR Head Spin

30 04 2018

Washington, D.C.

Because nothing says “indifference to the plight of the Jews” like fighting and helping to defeat and topple Hitler.

And why was FDR so “indifferent?”

Because he defended what was at the time American immigration policy and the intellectual rationale behind it.  Which of course, on its face, has everything to do with Jews qua Jews, unless it doesn’t.

And also, he had some subordinate draw up a bunch of maps involving moving people around based on purely an intellectual and academic exercise.

Nothing in here about FDR’s administration engaging in residential redlining, much to the disappointment of Ta Coates.  But…

Roosevelt also expressed the opinion that “for a good many years to come European immigration should remain greatly restricted,” and that “foreigners” who had congregated in large American cities should be encouraged to disperse into the heartland.

“Encouraged to disperse into the heartland” is such a scandalous mentality?  It seems to me that all FDR needed to do was to call this policy proposal Affirmatively Furthering Fair Housing, and this very slick would be praising him for it today.  Ironically, FDR’s redlining is cited as one of the reasons why we needed to do AFFH.

One more thing:  If moving people around and dispersing people along ethnic lines and on ethnic grounds is so horrible, Jews, then give back your Israel, because a whole lot of that had to be done to create Israel and to make it a successful Jewish state.

We should also remember that FDR was the President who surrounded himself with a whole lot of Jews in his New Deal brain trust, which had the effect of finalizing the Jewish long march through the American institutions.

Why do I get the feeling that FDR is about to become Robert E. Lee-ized?  Why do I sense that Official Amurrika is about to throw him under the bus?

Give Peace a Chance

23 04 2018

Jefferson City

“Denounce the Dred Scott decision.”

That’s right, they better do that, and find a peaceful resolution to this slavery question.  Because if they don’t, we run the risk of a war breaking out that might have as many as 750,000 casualties, in order to settle this and related political questions, and if the anti-slavery side wins the war, then there will be Constitutional amendments followed by legislation followed by a military occupation of the part of the country whose governing elites are economically dependent on slavery, in order to repudiate the curious institution once and for all.

Isn’t a meaningless state legislative resolution a century and a half after the fact preferable to all these horrors?

History Is History

13 04 2018

New York City

In modern official Amurrika, the official history canon is all about:

(1) Slavery
(2) Apartheid
(3) Jim Crow and Segregation
(4) The Holocaust

Therefore, I have a really hard time believing that the headline is true.  Virtually all of said individuals spent thirteen years, and many spent another four, hearing nothing but these four things.

James Earl Ray Day

4 04 2018


Fifty years ago today, a native St. Louisan helped create the Martin Luther King national holiday.

That’s what our sector means by calling it James Earl Ray Day.  Of course we’re being snarky, to a point, but more so than that, we’re making the point that Martin Luther King in his untimely death caused by assassination became more than he ever was in life and ever would have been but for being assassinated.  For my money, if MLK was not assassinated, Lyndon Johnson’s birthday would be the national holiday for the cause of civil rights.

The yuge hangup in the official story relating to Ray and King that keeps me from believing it Whole David Hogg is the bit about Ray having the money to fly from Pearson to Heathrow at the drop of a hat.  That had to be royally expensive.  How did some hoosier (and yes, he was the quintessential St. Louis hoosier) who broke out of Jeff City the year before the deed and eked out an existence with odd jobs and nickels and dimes in various cities be able to collect that kind of money?

Wicked Historical Racism Porn Profiling Trick

17 03 2018


And that’s where I stopped.


You’ll read a lot about Tuskegee, but nothing about relating blacks’ lack of volunteerism back to HBD.


Note:  The hyperlink over “Tuskegee” is to the truth about it.  Spoiler alert:  Nowhere near as titillating as the modern day narrative.

Two-Gun Monty

2 03 2018


The mentality that the “assault weapons ban” portion of the 1994 crime bill was responsible for the sharp decline in the violent crime rate in the 1990s, (which had already commenced before the legislation), I think is a deliberate foil to distract us from thinking about what of that legislation really did work — The hardening of the criminal justice system.  What also helped was that by then, the crack cocaine epidemic was wearing itself out.

The reason certain people are so anxious to try to credit the AWB portion of the legislation rather than the CJ portion of the legislation (and similar reforms in the states) is because of modern day BLM activism and the mania over incarcerating black bodies.  Hillary Clinton had quite a few political headaches in 2015-2016 as she tried to make people forget that her husband signed the 1994 Crime Bill which included the CJ provisions.

Simplified Shelby

13 01 2018


Shelby Steele, in the WSJ:

Black Protest Has Lost Its Power

Have whites finally found the courage to judge African-Americans fairly by universal standards?

The recent protests by black players in the National Football League were rather sad for their fruitlessness. They may point to the end of an era for black America, and for the country generally—an era in which protest has been the primary means of black advancement in American life.

There was a forced and unconvincing solemnity on the faces of these players as they refused to stand for the national anthem. They seemed more dutiful than passionate, as if they were mimicking the courage of earlier black athletes who had protested: Tommie Smith and John Carlos, fists in the air at the 1968 Olympics; Muhammad Ali, fearlessly raging against the Vietnam War; Jackie Robinson, defiantly running the bases in the face of racist taunts. The NFL protesters seemed to hope for a little ennoblement by association.

And protest has long been an ennobling tradition in black American life. From the Montgomery bus boycott to the march on Selma, from lunch-counter sit-ins and Freedom Rides to the 1963 March on Washington, only protest could open the way to freedom and the acknowledgment of full humanity. So it was a high calling in black life. It required great sacrifice and entailed great risk. Martin Luther King Jr. , the archetypal black protester, made his sacrifices, ennobled all of America, and was then shot dead.

For the NFL players there was no real sacrifice, no risk and no achievement. Still, in black America there remains a great reverence for protest. Through protest—especially in the 1950s and ’60s—we, as a people, touched greatness. Protest, not immigration, was our way into the American Dream. Freedom in this country had always been relative to race, and it was black protest that made freedom an absolute.

It is not surprising, then, that these black football players would don the mantle of protest. The surprise was that it didn’t work. They had misread the historic moment. They were not speaking truth to power. Rather, they were figures of pathos, mindlessly loyal to a black identity that had run its course.

It’s not even that complicated.

Black protest has “lost its power” because it never had any real power to begin with.

The reason black people still have “a great reverence for protest” is because they don’t understand the concept of correlation-causation.  Their relatively ancient ancestors developed rituals based on confusing correlation and causation.  For instance, some kid would dance around a tree just to be goofing off, and then it would start raining, and then on another day, the kid would do it again, and it would start raining.  From that, everyone in the tribe started in on dancing around the given “magic” tree if they wanted it to rain, and sometimes it would work, sometimes not.  Likewise, “modern” black Americans maintain something of the same magic-totem-ritual mentality about marching and protests, that all one has to do is engage in them, and good things come your way.  A la the cargo cult.

It’s as simple as this:  The civil rights movement’s biggest legislative wins had nothing to do with black people marching or even black people in general.  Yes, black people marched, and yes, the civil rights movement won, but not because the former caused the latter, more like the latter caused the former.  A bon mot of mine, relevant because of what is coming up on Monday, is this:  MLK didn’t cause the CRM, the CRM caused MLK.  Sans MLK, the CRM still would have happened.

The real causes of the CRM are twofold:  One, Jews gaining control of crucial American institutions in the decade of the 1920s, and two, the fallout of World War II.  The country, by that time, Jewish predominated in many of the crucial institutions, that consummately lauded itself for having helped to beat Hitler in Berlin, could not have turned around and continued to tolerate segregated lunch counters in Greensboro and walls in Nogales.  Which means the civil rights and immigration legislation of the 1960s were inevitable, the only open variables were names, dates and proper nouns.

At approximately the same time frame of the American CRM, many other white countries enacted similar measures.  And I know for sure there was no Martin Luther King in those other countries.

Don’t They Know, It’s Not the End of the World

28 11 2017

Bakersfield, California

Jim Goad on the Manson postmortem.

He doubts the Bugliosi theory on motive, but Bugliosi got too much credible evidence that that was indeed what was going through Charlie’s dope-addled brain.  My long time fundamental point remains, though:  If the blacks were smart enough and organized enough (LOL) to do all that, then they would have been able to rule the world on their own, and they wouldn’t have needed Manson and his vagabonds.

Which leads me to this from Goad:

Manson was indeed a product of the 1960s, but more than anything he was the product of a teenaged alcoholic mother/prostitute and the doomed path such a bedraggled spawning set him on. By the time of the Tate/LaBianca murders, Manson had already spent half of his life in correctional facilities of one sort or another. And if he developed negative attitudes toward blacks, it likely had far less to do with reading George Lincoln Rockwell and far more to do with being forced to interact with blacks behind bars during his formative years. He was not nearly as naive about race as so many who’d condemn him for being a “racist” are.

MLK was murdered a year before the Manson Family murders. Riots had sprung up all across the USA. As a street hustler and lifetime con, Manson had the survival instincts that so very few pampered modern leftist scribes will ever have. If he foresaw an inevitable race war in America, maybe he was nothing more than a hillbilly Bob Dylan and saw it blowin’ in the wind.

If Manson was truly prophetic about anything, though, it was why whites would lose a theoretical race war. According to Manson, when blacks came seeking blood vengeance, whites would be too hopelessly split between those with self-preservation instincts—those who are now defamed as “racists”—and the uptight, sheltered squares who thought it would be “racist” not to let black people start killing them en masse.

You can’t blame someone who was living through the times and maybe also the proximity of the severe black riots of the latter half of the ’60s to think that it was the beginning of the end of the world.  But as things shook out over time, it wasn’t the end of the world, just a really severe chimpout.  Remember, they can sprint, but only for a short distance and a short time.  Also remember that if they had brains, they would truly be dangerous, but thankfully, they’re not that dangerous.  Both belie Manson’s fanciful prediction about what were the immediate years and decades ahead of his time.

Why did the riots stop?  Why has black rioting since then rarely been anywhere as bad?  Hint:  Compare Baltimore 1968 and Baltimore 2015.


Affirmative action.

The domestic policy deep state really hit the floor on the accelerator on affirmative action as a reaction to the late ’60s black riots.  The subversive purpose of AA was, and continues to be, to drive a wedge between the “talented” tenth and the street undertow, so that the former group of black people feel more loyalty to the system than to their own lumpenproles.  Which means the “talented” tenth won’t feel any need to lead and organize and provoke their own racial undertow to riot against the system.  Remember, if they had brains, they’d truly be dangerous, which means if you can take what brains they have out of the ghetto and send them to Yale, then there won’t be any brains left in the ghetto, which means they’ll be even less dangerous than before.  The result has been a success, considering the subversive purpose:  Black riots after the early ’70s have been both far less widespread and far less severe.  The biggest I can think of in the AA era is South Central Los Angeles 1992, and eventually, we all know how the system solved its South Central black undertow problem:  Mass Hispanic immigration as vanguard, AFFH-style programs as rearguard.

The domestic policy deep state made the decision a long time ago that it is preferable to have half-wit blacks dance around on Yale and have their Fisher-Price toy kiddie pool “academic disciplines” to allowing them to lead major urban domestic instability.

Meanwhile, as the events in many cities and areas about a century ago proved, East St. Louis included, and as we saw in spits and spurts as recently as Boston in the mid-1970s, you don’t want to be on the wrong side of a white riot, because one of those can turn the world inside out.

Half a Millennium

14 11 2017

Wittenberg, Germany

Because I’m a Lutheran, LCMS in particular, I’ve been aware that the current year is the 500th anniversary of the 95 Theses, because the Church(es) all year have been making sure we know about it.  Strangely, ELCA has been rather mum about it, mainly because nowadays ELCA is leftist as just about any Christian denomination, and as such, they’re trying to put daylight between themselves and Martin Luther’s none too kind attitude about parentheticals in his late life.  That said, get ready for Martin Luther to be Robert E. Lee-ized.

However, I was not able to get back enough of my cognitive function on the observed day of the anniversary itself, October 31, (missed it by that much), such that I was really able to appreciate the significance of the day.  I should add that October 31, 1517 is observed as 95 Theses Day, but the switch from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar didn’t happen until later that century.  When the switch was ordained, ten days were skipped over, meaning that the day that was supposed to be October 5, 1582 became October 15, 1582.  This means that October 31, 1517 on the Julian is probably November 10, 1517 on the Gregorian, give or take.

Before I leave this be, I want to address the “it never happened” historical revisionist skepticism.  Their theory is that Martin Luther never nailed or even affixed any manifesto like this to the doors of the Wittenberg church where he was based, that he made the whole thing up about 30 years after the fact and after the Protestant Reformation gained serious political steam and became a thing in order to puff up his own legend.  What I think is possible is that he never “nailed” the 95 Theses to the doors with nails, if only because in those days, nails were expensive, and not a one was to be wasted.  But I do think that he actually did affix the Theses to the door, probably with glue, and did it on the night before All Saints’ Day, meaning October 31, 1517 (again, remember, Julian calendar), and where’s why:  Affixing clerical-professorial statements to church house doors was the way that the clerical-professorial class communicated with each other in those days, and they wrote their statements in Latin for that reason, because it was for the eggheads, not the common people.  Luther never really wanted to split away from the Church, he just wanted some massive major league internal reforms.  Which explains the Theses being originally written in Latin, and being affixed to the doors before ASD, because in those days, ASD was a BFD, way bigger than it is even among modern Catholics.  An official professorial statement that dramatic officially posted on the eve of ASD would have gotten paid attention to big time by the really important clerical officials of the day, just because of the importance of ASD.

Other anniversaries during my incapacity were:  The 40th anniversary of the plane crash that took out most of Lynyrd Skynyrd, and the 100th anniversary of the Bolsheviks taking control of Russia. You know how that goes, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Bolsheviks, Martin Luther, one of these things is not like the others.

My Unique Take on the Orange Crowned God-Emperor’s North Korean Bellicosity

14 11 2017


I’m going to start with the conclusion and then conclude with the reasoning.


This is our last chance to win the Korean War.


I have written in this space on several occasions in the last few years that we are in the Era of Peak Boomer, that is, the zenith of the Baby Boomer generation’s ability to exercise serious control over serious and consequential institutions.  So much so that we’re on our third President whose birth is part of the direct “nine months later” consequences of the orgasmic exuberance of the circumstance and aftermath of V-J Day.  Three Presidents, born Summer 1946.  Including the current one.

The first wave of the Boomers are currently in their last gasp of power and influence over serious institutions, and at the same time, are the last people who can exercise that kind of power who have any conscious memory of the Korean War, even though they were just little kids (ages 4-7 if you’re a Summer ’46er) during Korea.  The later you were born, the younger you were when Korea happened, meaning that even if you were alive, you have no conscious memory of it at all, and if you were born after July 1953, you weren’t even alive at all.

Yet and still, whether you were just barely old enough to know what was going on in Korea, or whether you were born after it was over, you had older relatives who were Korean vets, and they inevitably did the woulda-coulda-shoulda thing.  You grew up hearing all that griping.

Donald J. Trump both probably was just old enough to understand that we were at war in Korea when it was happening, and probably heard a lot of the woulda-coulda-shoulda kvetching in his ears as he got older from that point.  He just turned seven when we got out of Korea, and any seven-year old boy who doesn’t see his country emphatically win a war, especially since his very birth was a consequence of his country winning a really big war, is going to have his young male ego hurt.

And now, he’s President, and Korea is still divided along post-July ’53 lines.

See where this is going?  He thinks he can finish the job and close the loop on what got him butthurt at the age of seven.

Presuming the Constitutional process continues after Trump, and as you know, I don’t think it will, this is the last President we’ll have that was alive during the Korean War.  If we have another Boomer President, it will be late Boomer type, a 1959 birth year type, born after Korea, and by the time a 1959 birth year individual got old enough to understand such things, the woulda-coulda-shoulda-ism re Korea dissipated as our attention turned to another Asian civil war, that being Vietnam.  This means that the Trump Administration is last Presidency with “skin in the game” motivation to “win” the Korean War in the way the American foreign policy establishment thinks we should win it slash should have won it.  Speaking of, “our” official goal of “denuclearizing” the entire Korean peninsula is nothing more than a dog whistle for either the internal toppling or the external conquering of the DPRK, and subsuming its territory into the ROK.  There is no other credible route for there to be no nuclear ordinance on the Korean peninsula.  Which means that “denuclearization of the Korean peninsula” is a humanitarian-sounding front for what would in all essence be adding territory to the American Empire, i.e. winning the Korean War once and for all.  The stalemate is that the growing Chinese Empire wants the territory that is now the DPRK to be its protectorate, not ours.

Long and short is that since Korea is still divided, we still think we can win it, and we now have as a Commander-in-Chief someone who wants to win it for personal reasons.

Incidentally, that is why we gave up on Vietnam in the long run, in spite of all the very similar woulda-coulda-shoulda-ism on the part of Vietnam vets that still takes place to this day, (including that on the part of a man who is on the other side of a wall from me right now whereas I write this), because Vietnam didn’t stay divided, the Paris Accords didn’t hold, the North ignored them and overran the South and created a North-ran unitary Vietnam.  If that had not happened, there’d still be separate North and South Vietnams to this day, with a DMZ between them, and we’d still be treating Vietnam like we’re treating Korea, which is, a thing we can still win in the long run.

My late older blood uncle, my late uncle-by-marriage, and my late great uncle, are all Korean vets, the middle one is technically a casualty but one who didn’t succumb to the war injuries until 1988.  Incidentally, my younger blood uncle, who I just alluded to above, the one who you know, thanks to Norm, is one of the three principals of my existence right now and has been since July 19, the others being Norm himself and my lawyer, all of them have legal rights therein, is a Vietnam vet.  So as you can see, I have a plenty of blood and quasi-blood relative investment in eastern Asia.  So what I’m about to write, I’m not writing out of a sense of disloyalty or sedition.  And I know I’m gonna hear from a few people.  But I have to say it anyway:

Those gooks aren’t worth it.  Nary a bone of a single Pomeranian grenadier.

Twilights of Rage

16 06 2017


OCGE reversed some of Obama’s last moment Cuba policy changeups, and insinuates that none of them will go back in that direction until, among other things, Havana hands over Joanne Chesimard, aka Assata Shakur.

ICYMI, here’s a long but excellent book review that’s probably as worthy as the book itself, that puts, among other people, the lovely and gracious Miss Chesimard, into context.  We think it’s never been worse, but the 1970s make our times look Halcyon.

We’re About to Open an Early ’80s Time Capsule

16 06 2017


* Cannonball Run reboot.

* Atari reboot.

Could silver ghettoblaster boomboxes be far behind?

Garden State of Mind

11 06 2017

New Jersey


Before Silicon Valley, New Jersey Was Tech Capital

It was in New Jersey that Thomas Edison invented sound recording, motion pictures, and the light bulb in what is considered the first modern corporate R&D facility. In other words, Edison invented the modern lab — teams of people working together, sharing ideas and perfecting devices. In the century after Edison, New Jersey became the place to set up shop if you wanted to invent. On top of all the other assets, the state had lots of inexpensive land available. The transistor and cellular communications came out of AT&T’s Bell Labs, also in New Jersey. If it was 1955 and you had to bet on where the next half-century of technical innovation would emerge, the Garden State would be the most likely winner, not some farmland south of San Francisco. As a couple of Jersey natives at NPR note, it didn’t quite work out that way. What happened?

I’ll take a stab.

(1) Average January high in Newark is 39, in Palo Alto 58.  Average annual snowfall in Newark is 28 inches, in Palo Alto, none.  Average annual rainfall in Newark is 46 inches, in Palo Alto 16 inches.

(2) Father Lewis Terman and son Fred Terman.  That father-son combination was brilliant and Machiavellian, and exploited the best parts of the raw drive for human intelligence, measurement and selection, California’s one-time individualist-libertarian political climate, and channeling a lot of Federal military-defense R&D money into the area.

(3) New Jersey is smack dab in the Bos-Wash northeastern Acela corridor, which for a long time has had a business climate focused on large corporations.  I am of the opinion that the personal computer could have never been invented or popularized by the big three-letter Acela corporations, because, as far as they were concerned, computing only concerned large corporations, and therefore, individuals and their households had no use or need for them.  It took the California individualist-narcissistic mentality (that it once had) to fathom an individual even wanting a computer.  For the same reason, historically, team sports were popular in Eastern industrial towns, while they weren’t that much in California.  Because team sports carried the same connotation as team employment or team industry, the large corporation, the large factory.  Olympic style sports, which are generally more individual than team affairs, were both popular in and sometimes grew out of, a place like California, because of its (former) atomistic-libertarian climate.

(4) “Had lots of inexpensive land.”  By 1955, that wasn’t so true in New Jersey anymore, but it was true “south of San Francisco.”

(5)  The Termans, Fred especially, developed the business-academic mentality, again, rooted in what California’s political climate used to be, of the Stanford-to-startup pipeline.  This new industry generally attracted people who were, along with being highly geeky and intelligent, also highly entrepreneurial.  So, if their two options were corporate slave in New Jersey or roll-your-own between San Francisco and San Jose, guess where they were going to go.

(6)  Part of what hurt Edison and New Jersey insofar as motion pictures is that certain ((())) intent on ripping off Edison’s IP set up shop fairly close to the Mexican border, so they could quickly schlep across it if process servers came calling.

Shorpy Does Downtown

7 05 2017


In 1900.


The building on the northeast corner is still there, as you can see.

Another Ten

15 04 2017


I’ve been blogging for so long that I blogged on the day of the 60th.

And today is the 70th.

About that stale link in my post of ten years ago today:  I saved it, and cut-and-pasted it in a post here about a year ago.

So Much For So Much

23 03 2017



Germany to clear gays convicted under Nazi-era law

The German government Wednesday approved plans to quash the convictions of 50,000 men sentenced for homosexuality under a Nazi-era law which remained in force after the war, and offer compensation.


Germany’s Article 175 outlawed “sexual acts contrary to nature… be it between people of the male gender or between people and animals”.

Sex between women was not explicitly illegal.

Although the law dated from 1871, it was rarely enforced until the Nazis came to power, and in 1935 they toughened the legislation to carry a sentence of 10 years of forced labour.

So it wasn’t a “Nazi-era law.” It was a law that was passed during the first year of Germany as a unified unitary nation-state, but one that was unenforced until the GNSWP party governments came to power. And it is one of many historical examples of the strange inconsistency of the illegality of male homosexuality but not female homosexuality, though I think the inconsistency can be rationalized even if not justified.

But what this does is totally discredit screeds like Pink Swastika, if you already didn’t know it from reading it and then comparing it from what we know about GNSWP-era Germany. Pink Swastika tries to make Adolf Hilter into Harvey Milk, and the Nazi Party into GLAAD. That, obviously, is way out of its tree.

Accuracy In History

20 03 2017

Washington, D.C.

Inside Higher Ed:

Howard University is investigating an alleged incident in which a white professor asked his class to engage in a mock slave auction. News of the exercise was first reported by the Caged Bird blog, which did not name the professor or his department. The instructor reportedly was teaching Frederick Douglass’s slave narrative earlier this month and asked one of two black men in the class to stand up and be examined because he looked “healthy,” according to the blog.

“He asked me to show my butt to the class so that he could get a better sense of my worth and had the audacity to say that it was uncomfortable for him, too, because he’s a white man,” the unnamed student reportedly told Caged Bird. “He started propping my body up as if we were on a slave auction block.” The student said the professor told him he could stop participating when he felt uncomfortable but that he stood up “because I didn’t expect him to do or say the things he said and did. I didn’t sit down sooner because I was so shocked.”

Even though he was just reenacting the history of slave auctions rather accurately, my bet is that prof is gay and was making a pass at that particular student of his.  He wanted a quick peek at that which he hopes to tap.

When Black Activists and Politicians Demanded the War on Drugs

20 02 2017


At Counter Currents, today.

This mentions the crack-meth-powder syllogism.

It is correct that Federally recommended sentences at one time for crack cocaine were ten times what they were for powder cocaine, controlling for weight. However, at the same time, Federally recommended sentences for crystal meth were one-half of what they were for crack cocaine, again, controlling for weight.

I know that, because while these recommended sentences were still legally extant, the Evening Whirl published a chart showing them in almost all of their issues.  In case you’re not a St. Louisan, the Whirl is St. Louis’s by blacks for blacks about blacks newspaper, which heavily centers on vernacular-sensationalism about urban (i.e. mostly black) violent crime and sundry bellcurvosity.

This means if you want to claim the ten times disparity between the black stereotype drug of crack and the white Wall Street stereotype drug of powder cocaine is racist, then you have to say that the five times disparity between the lower class white stereotype drug of crystal meth and the white Wall Street stereotype drug of powder cocaine is classist. Yet, the second part of that is something I never heard from quasi-official circles.