Ad Aspera per Astra

Not being from the southwest I’m not really sure.  It’s difficult to discern the truth and there’s a lot of conflicting information I haven’t taken the time to digest.  I would say that California’s quasi-militant sanctuary posture makes that accusation plausible.  

I’m an open borders guy myself though I’m nuanced enough to recognize the conflict between this position and a state using migrants to become increasingly authoritarian.  A state that has set up generous welfare programs and government/corporate industrial complexes to feed on masses of illegals at the expense of the citizenry they abuse as tax mules is a big fucking problem.  

This doesn’t seem that complex of a relationship to comprehend but for whatever reason this is a debate where people are stacked on the extremes.  

Either you’re absolutely open borders or you want to build the wall. 

As long as there are progressives using social strain and various government programs and complexes to concentrate power in the state, I understand completely the desire/need to control immigration.  

What I wish  many on the right would recognize is that the vast majority of migrants are just looking for a better life like most of their own ancestors who immigrated to the states in the last 200 years.  Don’t be hostile to them, be hostile to the government that’s using them.   

All I can say is that the post-war United Kingdom has been completely subverted by the illiberal fabian socialists of the Labour Party.  This is a fundamental rejection of classical liberalism that was born there and led to the casting off of monarchy and slavery across the European continent and the Americas.  I believe England’s history of monarchy and aristocracy helped make the population susceptible to this backsliding.  

I bring up dystopian literary tropes quite often but this recoiling we see at the idea of an adult human being carrying simple tools or self-defense as a “fucked-up need” reminds me of the warning of Aldous Huxley with respect to human conditioning.

In Brave New World the government has developed a caste system that’s forcibly entrenched in the psyche of the general population.  From the time of their mechanical birth through rounds of regimented conditioning and strictly enforced social boundaries the classes are separated and conditioned to have certain proclivities and specific unfounded but widely held fears.

This is an excerpt from the book that deals with the conditioning of the lowest caste, the Deltas.  It has always stuck with me because I see it in irrational positions like those widely expressed in the UK.  I also see elements of it in the university with radical feminism which often seeks to terrorize the students into becoming stunted radicals themselves;

“INFANT NURSERIES. NEO-PAVLOVIAN CONDITIONING ROOMS, announced the notice board.

The Director opened a door. They were in a large bare room, very bright and sunny; for the whole of the southern wall was a single window.

Half a dozen nurses, trousered and jacketed in the regulation white viscose-linen uniform, their hair aseptically hidden under white caps, were engaged in setting out bowls of roses in a long row across the floor.  Big bowls, packed tight with blossom.  Thousands of petals, ripe-blown and silkily smooth, like the cheeks of innumerable little cherubs, but of cherubs, in that bright light, not exclusively pink and Aryan, but also luminously Chinese, also Mexican, also apoplectic with too much blowing of celestial trumpets, also pale as death, pale with the posthumous whiteness of marble.

The nurses stiffened to attention as the D.H.C. came in.  "Set out the books,“ he said curtly.In silence the nurses obeyed his command.  

Between the rose bowls the books were duly set out–a row of nursery quartos opened invitingly each at some gaily coloured image of beast or fish or bird.

“Now bring in the children.”  They hurried out of the room and returned in a minute or two, each pushing a kind of tall dumb-waiter laden, on all its four wire-netted shelves, with eight-month-old babies, all exactly alike (a Bokanovsky Group, it was evident) and all (since their caste was Delta) dressed in khaki.

“Put them down on the floor.”  The infants were unloaded.  "Now turn them so that they can see the flowers and books.“  

Turned, the babies at once fell silent, then began to crawl towards those clusters of sleek colours, those shapes so gay and brilliant on the white pages.

As they approached, the sun came out of a momentary eclipse behind a cloud.

The roses flamed up as though with a sudden passion from within; a new and profound significance seemed to suffuse the shining pages of the books.  From the ranks of the crawling babies came little squeals of excitement, gurgles and twitterings of pleasure.  The Director rubbed his hands. "Excellent!” he said.  "It might almost have been done on purpose.“  

The swiftest crawlers were already at their goal. Small hands reached out uncertainly, touched, grasped, unpetaling the transfigured roses, crumpling the illuminated pages of the books.

The Director waited until all were happily busy.  Then, "Watch carefully,” he said.  And, lifting his hand, he gave the signal.

The Head Nurse, who was standing by a switchboard at the other end of the room, pressed down a little lever. There was a violent explosion.  Shriller and ever shriller, a siren shrieked.  Alarm bells maddeningly sounded.  The children started, screamed; their faces were distorted with terror.  "And now,“ the Director shouted (for the noise was deafening), "now we proceed to rub in the lesson with a mild electric shock.”  He waved his hand again, and the Head Nurse pressed a second lever.  The screaming of the babies suddenly changed its tone.  There was something desperate, almost insane, about the sharp spasmodic yelps to which they now gave utterance.  Their little bodies twitched and stiffened; their limbs moved jerkily as if to the tug of unseen wires.  "We can electrify that whole strip of floor,“ bawled the Director in explanation.  "But that’s enough,” he signalled to the nurse.

The explosions ceased, the bells stopped ringing, the shriek of the siren died down from tone to tone into silence.  The stiffly twitching bodies relaxed, and what had become the sob and yelp of infant maniacs broadened out once more into a normal howl of ordinary terror.

“Offer them the flowers and the books again."The nurses obeyed; but at the approach of the roses, at the mere sight of those gaily-coloured images of pussy and cock-a-doodle-doo and baa-baa black sheep, the infants shrank away in horror, the volume of their howling suddenly increased.

"Observe,” said the Director triumphantly, “observe.”

____

This is what I see in these Brits who think self-defense is insane and that you’re a criminal if you carry a knife or screwdriver much less a firearm. 

Humor me, but the scene was so poignant that years ago I clumsily painted one of those delta babies as it was conditioned to hate the rose.

Being one of those sane people has to feel like they’re living in We Happy Few.

The fact that they’re propping up a “white supremacist” as being anti-war is an attempt to directly associate that sentiment with a social/cultural pariah and thereby suppress or disparage it in the public consciousness.  The collectivist political culture is tailor made for this type of lemming manipulation.  

The image above Spencer in that post is a diagram of the Hegelian Dialectic.  It is a visual illustration of the framework used for guiding our thoughts and actions into conflicts that lead us to a predetermined solution or outcome.  Spencer is a prop in this machination.  

He Redpilled me against the dangers of universalism