Being neighborly, I walk over to talk to the spoiled graduate students who sit on the stoop across the street. None seem to think very deeply or clearly, the hallmark of this age though they went to Washington University-- "a good school", I'm told-- and these boys and girls seem mostly interested in playing video games at all hours of the night, all living in one house. Their drapes are splashed in a rainbow of flashing colors, and with this light-show I definitely know they're home.

Evening time. . . . . beers. . . . . playing it very mellow. What I'm reminded of is "The Canterbury Tales" on a sub-literate level as they go on about nothing. Usually one tends to make a declaration of their apparent innocence, the absurdity of a situation, showing off the purity of their heart to seek favorable attention. . . . . whether it's about video games, pop culture, or whatever happened at work and what they did to avoid effort and strife. It is very difficult to have a conversation with these people, because their concerns are so inconsequential.

And you can never talk about what matters most.

There is always this "screw-around" of a logical fallacy-- that "p" implies "q" but it doesn't necessarily follow that the two are equivalent, or that one necessarily follows the other. It's hard to communicate and overcome people's varying levels of ignorance, when most don't seem particularly interested in hearing "any different", but jealously holding on to "what's theirs" like peasants warding away unpleasantries with amulets of "tolerance" and "diversity" and the tenants of social Marxism in our postmodern society that lives without outrage, except for those who would "dash the illusion". Fact is nothing more but the scattered agreement of the scientific and historical community, filtered down to others through the media which has a profit motive and contingencies it doesn't want to offend and ultimately the peer pressure of negative human psychology as emotional-splotches of human beings band together against the outsider.

How people really feel about "their downtrodden brethren" usually depends on how wealthy and privileged they are, because deep inside he really feels contemptuous of them and overcompensates with rectitude to make up for his guilt. It all becomes a "bargaining chip" of rhetoric for how righteous he wants to feel, along with wishful thinking that thinks "the uglier truths" will magically disappear on a deluxe trading floor of "credibilities". It's like kids jumping around in an inflatable clown house and pretending not to see the patch of puke in the middle, slippin' and slidin' around like grey slop. Either you clean it up, or better yet-- you leave the clown-house altogether and "grow-up" already.

Then there's the drum-beat of existential doom that afflicts "the sophisticates".

Those who act like they have no "free will" with a hand to their forehead will ultimately be eliminated in the struggle for life because they let their "will-to-adapt" wither away, yes-- while acting as if others have "no free will" and reason that "society did it" will only give them "a foothold" where the sucker can be taken advantage of by the slacker's (-- or criminal's) own cunning and "will-to-inertia".

There can not be "freedom from responsibility" because evolution requires experimentation and failure and a risk-free society will always be a gain-free society. Life was never about gooey answers and simple slogans that pads away the actualities. Come to terms that the world is divided between realists and "pretenders". Pretenders tell it like "they want it to be"-- the idea of "protecting people" from the outside, and deep down they're really insecure and have to repeat things to themselves in order for the world to miraculously make sense. But once the pretense is exposed, there they are-- like an ape shot of a tree-- and how rotten it is. Life is about effort, pain, risk, and death, and "The Swedish Blitzkrieg" will always triumph over "The Mighty Ducks", no matter how a script is manipulated to fit a liberal Hollywood ideology.

"Who are you to say?", but people still gravitate toward what is unmatched-- and crack down on what they perceive is disruptive or threatening and full of "sour notes". It's all a matter of "presentation" and "knowing how to work a crowd".

Love everyone, and there is nothing. . . . . such a low-key level of existence and purposelessness as you are intruded upon by those with a stronger will-to-live. Nationalism is practically defined by xenophobia, a pulling-together against the outsider. Do it before it's too late, before that right is taken away from you. . . . . Malcolm-X and I could look each other in the eye and understand each other-- sworn mutual enemies sometimes become the closest of friends because they have more to prove to one another, engendered by soldierly combat and common cause. He never denied the slime from which he came, just like I don't either.

Everyone has skeletons in their closet, dirt under the carpet when you go really "far back". Recall that Martin Luther King in his early days had ties with the American Communist Party and other radical-types most Americans at the time would have looked upon with a jaundiced eye.

It's necessary to have an intelligence about the world, how things actually work and the separation of manufactured image from reality. Just because the 1950's were shot in grainy, black & white film does not mean that the substance of reality had that quality as people want to believe in a purer time. Why do I want to see Plato's shadows dancing in the cave when I can cut my chains and see the actual source? And most of the media these days, in the cave of illusion, are doing nothing more than putting on "a really evil puppet show". Time to cut the strings and assert order.

Who is the authority? I am the authority-- because it is my "will to power" that makes it so. And truth is its own author. As Otto von Bismarck once spoke, "Not by speechifying and majority votes can the great questions of today be settled. . . . . . but by blood and iron". If you doubt that, then look at the Iraq war. Democracy is a convenience that suits the powerful. You can whine with elaborate treatises, or you can accept it. The world does not belong to the unhappy and the unfortunate. . . . . become powerful in your own right. Carpe Diem! (Seize the Day!)

There can't be said to be any kind of "right" or "wrong" in this world-- just consequences. . . . . just like there are no "stupid" questions. And you either belong to the forces of degeneration or regeneration. Very slowly you will become the master of the world, and the world will not be master over you. . . . . .

The man most free is a man who follows the highest principles in life. He no longer cares about enemies, or death, or his immortal soul. He is free because he has escaped the pettiness of ordinary men. And he is free because he knows that in acting righteously, as a force of nature, that others will most likely act righteously toward him.

And just remember-- today's extremism is tomorrow's cliché. . . . .

"You want a-nuther song? Well I ain't plain' one mutherfuckin' note until someone comes up here and puts sum money in my god-damned tip-jar! You know I only came here for one purpose. . . . . to take yor fuckin' cash! Why, I could make more profit puttin' out my meth-head neighbor's asshole and ringin' a bell, hollerin' 'Man for sale! Man for sale!'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(Rheeee of Crickets)

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("I heard that, Missy!")