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© Dave Kellam / CC BY SA 2.0

In many ways, I reserve judgment. This will cause no small amount of heartache, but then the event of the referendum itself, without reference to any particular outcome, was already the harbinger of heartaches-to-come, largely unavoidable. The referendum did not create either the sentiments or the disagreements that led to them.

Either way, it would have been bad for the United Kingdom, and bad for Europe. This way, it will also be bad for many immigrants. The New Statesman said that the referendum opened the “Pandora’s Box,” but in fact the global elites have been slowly opening the Pandora’s Box for a quarter century or longer.

It’s a crisis of the West in general; one referendum wasn’t going to avert the crisis, no matter the outcome. The crisis marches on to bigger and better (or, indeed, worse) things in the years and decades to come, and I’m not entirely sure there is anything to do about it.

The West is in regrettable decline. Left and right are both gone mad. All good things must end.

— § —

What is interesting to me about the referendum, when I step back a bit, is the fact that it will actually have an effect in the real world at all—that the votes and the outcome might, shock of shocks, matter.

Certainly no vote anywhere in almost any nation has mattered all that much for quite a long time.

Yes, yes, some percentage of the population hobbles over to the polls a few times every decade here and there, in country after country and they pull the lever for this or for that, for something or for other, knowing full well that whichever side wins and whichever side loses, nothing at all is likely to change.

Options have been severely limited; voters choose between six of one and a half dozen of the other, then watch as either the six or the half dozen compound the insult by pretending as if no one had voted anyway. Meanwhile, those of “the consensus” have satisfied themselves with “consensus” as an explanation for all of this, while at the same time taking care to keep pulling the strings that matter, just in case.

This has been the game of the global elite for some time, and the secret meaning behind Fukuyama’s declaration of “the end of history” some years ago. Eventually he had the good sense to walk this claim back, realizing that all had been fortunate that it’s real meaning hadn’t been discerned. A little embarrassment and a harrumph or two and it was all put to bed and thank God anyway.

But here we have a population who was allowed to actually make a choice that matters and between two actually different options.

Who went and resurrected democracy? And on whose authority? How was this allowed to happen? And might not the plebes now, having had a taste of it again, begin to demand more?

No wonder everyone is upset at Cameron.

And the United States is ripe for precisely the same kind of unpredictable eruption of actuality after a great period of denial. Both Sanders and Trump are latent evidence of this. I suspect that these two aren’t the end of things but rather the beginning of them, particularly now that “consensus” in the form of Clinton has won.

— § —

My thoughts are with all of those that will be negatively impacted by this outcome. And for all of those that would have been negatively impacted by the other outcome.

But not with those who were to be fine no matter the outcome. They are the ones, meant to be the leaders of things, who are most responsible now for the state of things.

I suppose you know that you’re getting too old and that you’ve seen altogether too much when you begin to say things like, “All the world has gone crazy.”

But, in fact, all the world has gone crazy.

— § —

I don’t know where I belong in the culture now. Nowhere, it would seem. I don’t quite know where I will take myself in that sense.

I do know that I’m not satisfied. I’m not satisfied with what I’ve seen, with the options I’ve chosen and had to choose from. I feel as though there must be something better. And I am actively searching for it.

Meanwhile, I would do well to care just a bit less about the world and to realize and to recognize that, in fact, the world will not be redeemed. Or, at the very least, it is not my place to do it and never was. The world is, I increasingly clearly see, a mad place—simply mad, and while I can stand up for what I believe to be right, I should disabuse myself on any expectation that it will “get better” or that I can “make a difference” in the ways that young people tend to prefer to imagine.

I must make my peace with what will be, with the world as it is. That doesn’t mean that I give up, but it does mean that I never postpone another thing or another feeling for “better days to come.”

— § —

One critical set of things that have always been missing from my life and that remain missing from my life—a lack that will have to be remedied—are rites of passage.

I have never had the right rites, the ones that other people have had. The regular high school graduation. The college graduation. The masters graduation. The big wedding. Now, anything resembling a rite of divorce.

Only one major occasion in my memory has ever been marked in any way by ritual or public appearance and presentation—my Ph.D. graduation.

But one event does not a lifetime make. The anticlimax is not a good way to live in meaning. It tends to enable everything to blend together, to lead to a frustrating sameness in all things, a kind of negation of the import of life events.

I don’t know what rite(s) will next be appropriate for me, but I do know that it is time to begin to do them publicly and traditionally, so that I can feel as though I exist and as though my life has mattered to myself and to others.


© 2002 USMC Archives / CC BY 2.0

I have spent a lifetime surrounded primarily by women.

And over and over again, women have tried to beat it out of me. Probably the same is true for other men. To beat what out? That thing. That me-ness. It has always been too: scary, irresponsible, independent, stubborn, decisive, assertive, distant, reserved, stoic, adventurous, etc.

The answer is no.

No, I will not let it be beaten out of me. Not by family, not by friends, not by a long line of significant others. I am who I am and I do what I do. I would not allow myself to be killed off at 20, nor at 30, and now not at 40.

We are not women, women. We are men. I won’t apologize for it, and I won’t change. Ours is to do, and to do what is right. Not what is happy, not what is convivial, not what is cooperative, not what is safe, not what is convenient, not any of these things.

We are not here to play the game of “everyone wins and no one loses,” and we are not here to play the game of “let’s just have lemonade.”

To do, and to do what is right, come what may. That’s it. That’s all. And if we have to lose a thousand times, until the day we die, that’s what we’ll do. Because it’s better to be a loser than to surrender to a world in which everyone and everything—no matter the value, low or high, good or evil—is declared a winner.

All things—thoughts, people, plans, actions, circumstances, ideologies, times—are not created equal. We are here to fight the good fight. Until the end.

So—no. Not changing.

— § —

Three cheers for:

  • Honor
  • Courage
  • Integrity
  • Struggle
  • Generosity
  • Respect
  • Duty

No, I don’t sound like a liberal. I don’t sound like a conservative either. The fact is that these values have disappeared entirely from the Western canon. It’s time to fight for them again, to bring them back. As a species, we have lost half our birthright.

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