I’m not happy to have been right.
And contra those who are saying that:
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The pandemic is almost over
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The political upheaval is burning itself out
I am sadly confident, based on data from scientists and from my own eyes, that we are only seeing the beginning.
In the United States of America, the pandemic slowed for a moment but has now returned with fury, and in a far larger number of places, making any further containment that much closer to impossible.
We’re now in worse shape than we were when we locked everything down (I can’t remember by now whether I even posted about it). People say we don’t have the political “will” to lock down again but in fact it’s not a question of will.
There is, in fact, no governing authority with any actual power at the moment. People just don’t realize this because the governing authorities have sensibly refrained from attempting any governance or enforcement at the moment—either of which would reveal complete impotence and the fact that the public is ready, able, and willing to topple them—and would put the final nail in the coffin of the republic.
As it is, they’re hoping against hope that somehow this will all blow over and they can silently start giving orders again, and that when this happens, the public will start to follow them again as if the first half of 2020 never happened.
They won’t. It did.
The west as a civilizational impulse and as a culture is now in full-scale retreat, even as it is also undergoing a full-scale 180-degree reversal in cultural values.
If you doubt this, you may have missed the part where “protestors” (read: revolutionaries) have begun to place eight-foot guillotines outside the homes of wealthy folk like Jeff Bezos. Or where in my own neighborhood, the same have begin to shoot into the windows of passing cars (with bullets, not with cameras), presumably out of sheer rage that the drivers of said cars are driving somewhere unrelated to the revolution rather than—you know—also shooting.
Or the part where cultural elites at major publications like the New York Times have begun to rehabilitate Robespierre, saying that what he did was rather glorious and all for the best in the end, as you’ve got to chop off a few heads if you want to arrive someday at utopia. You don’t believe me, do you? Google it. And count the number of “important” people who repeated this.
When I posted that the coming times were to be “unimaginable,” I bet you weren’t thinking that our best and brightest would be embracing the guillotine and saying that we’d all previously got it greviously wrong about the Reign of Terror.
No, as Dave Chapelle recently suggested, the streets are “speaking for themselves,” and as usually is the case when this happens, it is not a virtuous thing.
We have the perfect storm. One pandemic exploding and another on the way (you thought I’d forgotten about the new swine flu epidemic taking hold in China, didn’t you), two generations of individuals who have been raised to believe that to be made to feel “discomfort” is a capital offense, an elite happy to throw in with mayhem and murder of the public because the public gave them Trump and Brexit, an ignorant public that were already at historic levels of financial ruin before the pandemic thrust them into historic levels of unemployment and economic collapse, and a complacent bourgoisie too afraid of falling, in all of this, to the level of the plebes to have any interest in preserving their integrity and refusing to go along with things rather than simply proclaiming “viva la revolución!” and laying down prostrate to literally wash the feet of the new Robespierre forces.
No, we’re going down.
And people will again think me crazy to say that I’m writing every post now as though it’s my last because I legitimaly don’t know what’s going to happen over the coming months—particularly as we head into “election season” (does anybody imagine that this will proceed without bloodshed at this point?) later this fall—and I also have no idea who will remain alive and free after the fact.
This is just the beginning, folks. I’ll repeat myself:
Tomorrow will be beyond imagining.