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Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Pierwalker Log: June 25, 2019

Writing start: 10:02 A.M.
Finish: 2:53 P.M.
Total new words (est.): 200
Edited (est.): 2700
Tasks

1. Failure: First primary edit of the epilogue

2. Book Three Melody: Off

3. Angel: Book Three: Off

4. Random Chance Book Two: Off

5. Port Story: 200 new words
Notes: Slow and easy.

6. Hidden Bookmarks: Read-through of chapter two

7. LOTR: Off till 7/1

8. Zelena (Secondary Edit Two): Off

Special Projects: None today

Extra notes: It is clear that if you continue calling yourself a Republican in this day and age, then you are an immoral human being.

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I get up in the morning and I write. There is no stronger proof that I am an optimist.

It isn't the suburban variety, cheaply bought and easily maintained. It doesn't come with blinkers, as always happens with the suburban variety; nor does it come with rose-colored glasses, which are also always included.

My optimism comes with the refusal to accept easy or trite answers. My optimism, I am confident, looks like unyielding pessimism to most of you. It isn't.

Most of you are nothing more than sponges: passive receivers of pretty much any information you get from your suburban Facebook or Instagram or Twitter feeds, or your suburban mainstream media propaganda outlets. You don't question any of it.

What do you care if a bunch of starving and sick brown children are stuck in cages in our name? Since you have done nothing about that atrocity--calling your senators and representatives, protesting in the streets, writing your own essays and blog posts and sharing them widely, contributing time or money or both to human rights' campaigns--that is exactly, de facto, your suburban-assed attitude, dickhead.

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Suburbanism says that because this blog is so small in terms of popularity--in fact, it is almost totally obscure to the public at large--that my rants here are worthless, and that I'm wasting my time. Suburbanism always urges acceptance and to give up, to stop fighting and stop rocking the boat. Is it any wonder that the white-lighty self-help industry publishes reams of advice urging just such acquiescence? After all, if you want to be known to suburbans, you need to give them what they want to hear. You need to fluff them.

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The United States of America has collapsed. At least morally it has. The repercussions are going to have profound effects lasting, minimally, centuries, assuming the human species manages to live that long, which, at this point, is very far from likely.

Donald Trump is the ultimate expression of suburbanism, which makes him the ideal president for most Americans. He embodies their values (if you can call them that):
  • Easy, trite, or violent answers to complex problems
  • White, male, and privileged
  • Famous
  • Minimal required education; or education as a product, as a consumable
  • Fundamentalist (in many ways, not just religion, of which he isn't religious at all: money, capitalism, misogyny as social policy, sexism, racism, patriarchal attitudes, what constitutes family and friends, black-and-white thinking, etc.)
  • Policy by means of the highest bidder
  • Profit at all costs
  • Convenience at all costs
  • Power
  • Herdism
The proof that his values apply to most Americans can be seen in their inaction against them; in their indifference towards them; and in their meek acceptance and normalization of them. If you are brown or black, and these describe you, then you are also, de facto, a Trump supporter, and you support his values as well.

You are what I long ago have termed a suburban. You embody the values of said group. It does not require that you live in the suburbs. It's what you are.

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And so, because of you and all who share your attitude, the human species lurches towards extinction, likely well before the end of this century.

This is the result of your worldview.

This is the result of your lifestyle.

This is on you.

I realize 99.9999% of you won't care enough to change. That's how it goes.

God help your fuckin' children. For they are going to suffer bigly.

Let's just hope the cockroaches, sifting through the burned and buried remains of our civilization 50 million years hence, don't follow our example.

I'm an optimist, so I'm going to go ahead and say they won't.



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