Funny, you! I do like that.
I've been sitting at the feet of our leader for too many year now not to know pretty well the dangers of Islam, even if I hadn't my own personal history in the Middle East and the Muslim wars in Jugoslavia and other places not to go into at this time. and yes, I have not only been studying here and elsewhere on the Internet but have my own small and personal library that makes my floor sag under the weight of the material, much on Islam. I know the threat full well. I don't dismiss it or disparage it as total. I might find others who hate Islam more than I, but what's the profit in that? My hatred f it is that it destroys not only our beautiful Modernity, it destroys the Muslim people who suffer under it as if from a terminal and generational illness, which I have seen in person, congenital illness made real due to Islam and its cultures. I'm not sentimental, and I'm not, regardless of my call for "Machiavellian" pacifism, a non-violent guy. I'm particularly happy to use necessary and rational violence against Force.
My point is that the only reason Muslims in the Western world, increasingly including such places therein as India and others, is because we have a "Povertarian" collectivist movement of anti-Modernists who seem not to have actually read but who deeply love the works, as such, of Rousseau. We have a movement of children, a near crusade, of ugly religious fanatics who know nearly nothing but the catechism of what I refer to as the "German Revolution." Let me explain that briefly.
Muslims have only the power our own people give them, which is too much. Muslims have no organic power in the Modern world because they cannot match their needs to their productivity. Money, for example, is a power tool. To make and retain money on such as scale as needed to be as powerful in America as Muslims are today in America would require centuries of effort and success in the nation, but that would mean assimilation, cultural and social, into the fabric of the nation. Muslims don't have it by right of success in social terms, economic or cultural terms. They got the power they have by the majority ceding power to them. Muslims haven't earned their power at all. And because they haven't earned it, they have no genuine right to it. They can instantly lose it if the legitimate owners of the power Muslims have decide even on a whim to take it away. If suddenly people generally start taking Robert and Hugh, et al, seriously, then Muslims in America will find themselves with the organic, i.e. legitimate power of, say, Maronite Christians as a group. It takes hard-working generations to amass the social capital to become politically and economically significant in a nation as large and wealthy as America. Muslims have gotten their power illegitimately. In a moralistic play-act, some, those Eric Vogelin refers to as Gnostics, have seen, seemingly literally, to it that they, the post-Modernist (po-mo)Gnostics, should rearrange the organic nature of the nation, of Modernity itself, to suit their Gnostic visions of the pleroma. The po-mo Gnostics have decided, and have made real, a new political paradigm on the spot simply because their families over the generations have accumulated and passed on the social capital that the po-mo Gnositcs are now spending on transforming our societies into their Gnostic visions of the way they think we should live, i.e, our nations as Povertarian Utopias.
Muslims have only social capital lent. We are faced with an enemy of Modernity that is, for want of better terms, Hippies. These hippies are the children of a very wealthy and successful American revolution that has nearly alone created a Modernity the likes of which were never imagined in times even so short ago as 100 years. This world of ours, a world of, for example, plastic, is inconceivable to many people even today in the midst of it. I, my own self here and now, can hardly contain my delight in the face of plastic things on my desk. It is, for me, a wonder and a joy. To the rich benefactors of their families, i.e, hippies, the fact that I have beautiful things on my desk, or a desk at all, is a hateful thing to behold. That I have things I don't, as a working class man and child of peasants, deserve by right of class should have things of beauty, and worse, cheap plastic things of sort-of beauty, (for those with low philistine taste,) is an offence against the Natural Order of History. I'm a painfully ordinary guy, and yet, in the face of others superior to me, I dare to have plastic flowers in a coloured vase on a wooden desk. Aesthetically, I am, my existence, my way of living, all of it and me, it is an affront to those with "taste." I presume to be equal in my own mind to those who have more and better and entitlement to the good of Life. I do not know my place. I should, according to Natural Order, be poor and wanting. I should be poor; and hence I would then be "moral." But I have plastic flowers on my desk. This, in this miserable country I live in now, is winter, and I have no right to flowers at this, and likely any other time. I am supposed to be poor and grateful to my betters for anything they might give me. I should accept poverty as a moral good, leaving material things" to my betters who have a higher aesthetic sense and can fully appreciate what is good in the material world, leaving me t the "spiritual" things of ordinary received morality. I have "things." I don't act the servile role, and because I have things, I have distracted myself from my right role as a poor person. I, and most other people in our Modernity, are alienated from our right roles as "poor." we are not real people any more. We are phony-rich. we have taken on roles we do not deserve. They must be stripped from us. It is the moralism, (not a morality at all,) that I term "Povertarianism." According to this religiosity, (not a religiousness) all who offend against the noble poverty they should live in are sinners, greedy, and c. man, according to this hippie neo-feudalist vision of the natural Order, should be, as he once was, before our Modernist Revolutions, a farm animal, Owned and tended and used by his natural superiors. Freedom and privacy, i.e. ownership of ones own life as ones own property, is an offence to the Povertarian aesthete. Only he, the smartest and the wealthiest, should be smart and wealthy. The rest of us, living inauthentically, are like Sarah Palin, stupid and evil and so on. We are bad, clinging bitterly and inaesthetically to our guns and our religions and c. Our colourful lives, our colourful clothing and our colourful homes and stuff therein, is an affront to the aesthete elite. We should be returned to our natural states of poverty and gratefulness to our natural betters.
Now, it's a hard sell to make a Povertarian claim like that based on plain aesthetics. Even the elitist won't like himself saying it. So, he creates a patina of religion to justify his hubris. "Nature" is no longer a sufficient authority for him to claim superiority; he then uses "science" to justify his claim to our inferiority and our place in a state to slavery and poverty. He, the aesthete might claim that it is scientifically true that working class people are using up scare resources to the point of destroying the very planet we all live on. We should thus be poor to save the planet. e should give up the Modernist Revolution that has saved us from poverty.
On top of saving the planet, we would be "authentic" again, in touch with Mother Nature. We would be, ah the joy, happy peasants like my ancestors, happily wandering the Highlands, hand-spun kilts wafting in the balmy breezes of Culloden's bloodied heather. Ah, the natural porridge, the groats, the haggis. No more of that Earth destroying junk food at the supermarket, that "preserved" food from the far corners of the Earth at all times of the year. No Mc Donald's but the neighbours in the Highlands scouting our thin sheep for their dinner, we using the pot for ours we stole from them. Authentic!
The elite know better than to pull such fabricated wool over their own eyes. More, they have an aesthetic need to make a good tale of it all: Rousseau. For the sensitive man of breeding and high taste who desires us all to live our potential best, i.e. as farm animals in his benign care, noblesse oblige, appanage, we should listen to the way it was, la la la, in the time of the golden Age when people didn't encumber their souls with "plastic." People then, when people were "real" had fine lives of no possessions, just living for the moment, mating and frolicking and fooling around in bliss. Yes,like Rousseau says it was. Yes,we might all starve to death, but how romantic and authentic our short lives would be them. and ths philobarbarist nightmare is a pretty story as told by Rousseau and his hackneyed paraphrasers. Hippies across the globe have bought it and resell it.
But in the world of real activity, such a beautiful Utopia as Rousseau's doesn't quite work. The paradise of Bismarck's Prussian socialist paradise does though. If one uses enough force. If one can cajole enough fools into selling their freedom for authoritarian safety from the horror of being alone in the universe as private being. Act it Prussian but call it Rousseau. Call it, let's just say, Obamanation. Call it the German Revolution. None of that fancy French égalité, fraternité, or that damnable liberté. Let's call it Rousseau but let's make it Bismarck.
The Industrial Revolution, the American Revolution, and even the mostly psychotic French Revolution were and are a revolution of significance only matched by the slowly spread Agricultural Revolution. In all those thousands of years of life between, nasty, brutish and short, life was a horror. But life as horror with meaning: It was a life of binding, of belonging, of what some Italian peasants called fasciste, referring to an old Roman symbol of unity of peasants and Power. There was safety in belonging to the collective under the protection of the State. then came the Industrial revolution an its children of Individualism and privacy. a revolution the likes of which no one has seen in the mind ever till it happened, and for many it's worse, continues to happen: Freedom for people like me. I don't need no fucking master, and the master class know it and hate it. They hate me. They hate my low class freedom and my plastic flowers and my dinner at McDonald's.
How can they destroy my freedom if I'm too stupid to see the beauties of a Rousseauesque parardise? If they can't corral me into a Bismarckian commune? If they can't convince me of how unhappy I am being free to destroy the planet? they can give up some of their power to those who would destroy my free nation by violence and subversion. The elitists can flood my free nation with violent jihadis and then condemn me for "racism." they can refer to their gnostic wisdom, their vision of the beyond-the-beyond, and their state as Philosopher Kings to cement their authority over my nation and its force against my Violence.
I'm immoral. I'm stupid. I'm greedy. I'm inauthentic. I'm like Sarah Palin! I prove my ugliness by not being nice to Muslims. Maybe I should die. Maybe, since the police don't want any disruptions in the societies we live in, I should get the Hell out of town and live in the woods. Then perhaps, when we are all living like bandits again or starving on the commune, the Gnostics will see their visions of happy peasants toiling authentically in the fields where they belong, and all will be right again in the world.
But there will be me, a son of Walker! Walker, a walking nightmare of fury and murder and American manifest destiny in the whole of the world. Oh, unlike Marat, I'm not so pretty after all. Not so aesthetically pleasing that the hippies will ever be satisfied with looking at me toiling in their Gnostic fields burying my own for their enjoyment. No, no, no: Walkers walk; and if they trample, it's all to the good.
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