My New Book “On Borrowed Fame”

My sixth book has just been released: On Borrowed Fame: Money, Mysteries, and Corruption in the Entertainment World. It shows the underbelly of show business, and delves into why the financial compensation doled out to entertainers is so inconsistent. In many ways, the industry mirrors our rigged economy at large.

The book was a long time coming. Most of it was written more than a decade ago, when I first began contacting old entertainers from my youth. It was heady stuff to go back and forth with people I’d watched on television, or listened to their records on my old transistor radio. Too many of those I communicated with passed on before the book was published. Skyhorse held it for quite some time before opting not to take it. I went with Bear Manor Media, a publisher that specializes in entertainment books.

I learned a lot while writing this book, as I do while researching all of my nonfiction. The disparity in compensation in the industry is sometimes mind-boggling. To cite just one example; why did Bette Davis, one of the biggest stars in the history of Hollywood, die with less than a million dollars, while Steppin Fetchit, the poster child for old fashioned racism, left a fortune of $10 million? There are lots of figures like that in the book. They fascinate me, and I’m hopeful readers will be intrigued as well.

The inspiration for the book was George “Spanky” McFarland, my favorite Little Rascal, and in my view the greatest child actor who ever lived. He was basically washed up by the age of six or so, but he was the most spellbinding toddler to ever appear onscreen. Spanky’s name and likeness was used by restaurants (and still is), and for other commercial endeavors. The fact he received nothing from this, or from the perpetually run Our Gang shorts, understandably frustrated him. I wrote to his widow, but she never replied.

A secondary inspiration was Bela Lugosi. Lugosi was one of the classic cases of the industry ripping off a vulnerable target. The English-challenged actor was paid all of $3500 for his iconic role in 1931’s Dracula. Meanwhile, David Manners, who was billed third or fourth in the cast, made more than four times that amount. I talked to Lugosi’s son, and more recently, his granddaughter. The granddaughter was a bit too difficult for me, so I didn’t include anything about her in the book. Almost all the others I spoke to were pretty accommodating and friendly.

An underlying theme to the book is; what exactly is fame? Once my nonfiction books were published, I began to relate a bit more to this. I’m not deluded enough to think I’m famous in any way at all, but the fact is some people (who knows how many) have heard of me. They’ve read my work and/or listened to me on the radio. I hear from strangers every day, from all over the world, who admire my work. I have stalkers as well. One guy I’ve never even exchanged posts with online writes about me regularly on a forum run by an Australian researcher who irrationally hates me. He knows way too much about me, and has constructed an inaccurate, villainous image of me. That kind of thing is pretty scary.

So, if the definition of fame is being known to others who you don’t know, I guess I have a very small measure of fame. The CEO of a corporation is famous to the thousands of employees there, but may be unknown outside that cocoon. As I noted often in my book Bullyocracy, the most popular kids in every school are essentially famous in their own little world. Big fish in a small pond. We see this same phenomenon in social settings; cliques form everywhere, from workplaces to country clubs. And there are “famous” people in all of them.

I talk about the totally forgotten famous entertainers from a few centuries ago. The stage was the Hollywood of its day, and there were plenty of marquee names who garnered public adulation. No one knows the name of even the most high profile actor of the eighteenth century now. And if not for the Lincoln assassination, no one would recognize the name of John Wilkes Booth, who was compared to Brad Pitt in terms of fame by a local historian. Like the old ballplayers dubbed The Glory of Their Times, in one of the great baseball books of all time by the same name, the greatest entertainers from a few hundred years ago have lost every measure of their fame.

On Borrowed Fame examines many of the most suspicious deaths in the entertainment business. Elvis Presley. John Lennon. Marilyn Monroe. Natalie Wood. John Belushi. Brittany Murphy. To name just a few. This, of course, is more in my wheelhouse. It is undeniable that show business is the only industry, outside of politics, which features an inordinate number of unnatural deaths, with often absurd explanations for them. Hollywood and the music business both have impressive Body Counts.

I was gratified to get some formerly big names to write blurbs for the book. Billy Gray, who played Bud Anderson on one of the seminal television shows of the 1950s, Father Knows Best. Susan Olsen, who portrayed Cindy on The Brady Bunch. Others, like singer-songwriter Graham Parker, never became household names, but meant the world to me. His music was part of the soundtrack of my youth, and I have to pinch myself to consider that we are now friends.

This book is not really uncharacteristic for me. I have been a Golden Age of Hollywood movie buff since I was a preteen, watching the yearly television broadcasts of The Wizard of Oz and King Kong, which were a big deal in those days. I loved especially the black and white world, the snappy dialogue, and the much higher production values. Everything had class. And even as a child, I wanted to write, and instinctively understood that the words recited in those older films were more literate and interesting than the current stuff.

The foundation of my populist philosophy was deeply influenced by Frank Capra’s quartet of timeless films; It’s a Wonderful Life, Meet John Doe, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. Like Huey Long’s speeches, those homages to the Little Guy struck a powerful chord within me. Capra’s admittedly naive optimism was responsible for grounding me a bit; without my mother’s happy, carefree outlook on life, and the messages in these uplifting films, I would have been as dark a cynic as my father, or one of my literary heroes, Ambrose Bierce.

I was also a fan of rock and roll from a young age. My sister bought me my first stereo when I turned seven, along with the 45s It’s Up to You by Ricky Nelson and Two Faces Have I by Lou Christie. She also threw in Rick Nelson’s Million Sellers LP. From there, I built a budding collection; most of the 45s from the Beatles and the Beach Boys, and a lesser number of LPs, including the first three Beatles’ albums. If only I hadn’t written my name on most of the LPs and 45s, I might have something really valuable.

I knew, and continue to know, way too much about pop culture. More than anyone needs to know. We used to joke that my head was full of knowledge that could never earn me any money. That turned out to be all too true. No one has ever been willing to pay me for reciting ridiculously obscure trivia about the early talkies, or one hit musical artists. Until now, I guess. Writers earn the same kind of miniscule royalty rates that even the biggest musical artists did. I could relate to the likes of Peter Noone of Herman’s Hermits joking about their lack of royalties.

I purposefully tracked down the most mysterious examples of actors suddenly disappearing from the limelight. One early talkies leading man became so obscure there is no record of his death. It is only presumed he died sometime during the 1980s. Think about that; do any construction workers become that obscure? And again, it’s similar to what I run into all the time, in trying to track down JFK assassination witnesses, or those connected to 9/11, Oklahoma City, etc. They can become, in effect, as obscure as some of those old actors.

I am always confident that the my books will sell well. I was right about Hidden History and Crimes and Cover-Ups in American Politics: 1776-1963. But not about Survival of the Richest or Bullyocracy. I just can’t trigger many sales for my non-political books. On Borrowed Fame should appeal to more “normies,” and attract a much larger crossover market, than all my other books. But I won’t be surprised if it doesn’t sell much. Most of my support seems to come from the conspiracy world.

The Foreword for On Borrowed Fame was written by the only person who could write it, John Barbour. My friendship with John is the most rewarding one of my life. This man stood at the pinnacle of success when he created and hosted Real People, the number one television show in America. But he’s humble enough to be impressed with the likes of me. Barbour’s career was undoubtedly impacted by his work with Jim Garrison. Actor Paul LeMat, star of American Graffiti, is someone else I’ve communicated with quite a bit. He admitted that his career was negatively effected by his activism regarding both the JFK and RFK assassinations.

I hope you all will buy and read On Borrowed Fame. The hardback is pretty expensive, but writers have nothing to do with pricing. I’d be just as happy if you suggested it to your local library system, or perhaps your college alma mater, to add to their collection. A library sale is just the same as any other, and it can attract a lot more readers. As always, adding the book on Goodreads (and ideally giving it 5 stars) would be a big favor to me, and rating or reviewing it on Amazon would be wonderful.

The Short and Simple Annals of the Poor

I’m not often shocked by any statistic, but have just found one that truly flabbergasted me. A recent study found that one in six Americans have never been outside the confines of the state they reside in. It’s hard to believe this. But perhaps it’s not so surprising, when we consider the nature of our rigged, casino economy.

Vacations are expensive, when you’re making less than $27,000, as the bottom half of American workers do. You have to expend a far greater percentage of your income to essentials, like food and housing. Since over 70 percent of Americans have less than $1000 in savings, that doesn’t leave much room for vacations. Or even travel out of state- say to a concert or amusement park. It’s becoming more expensive every day to travel anywhere, given the rising cost of gas.

My hero Huey Long was advocating a month long paid vacation for all workers, in the early 1930s. It wasn’t until the passage of watered-down legislation in 1938, which created the forty hour work week, the concept of overtime, and vacation and sick leave, that the common people finally started traveling a bit. How many generations had lived and died without ever seeing the ocean? My grandparents certainly never did. A highlight of my grandmother’s life was a day trip to Baltimore. She lived in Washington, D.C., so this was probably her first and only time out of state.

I grew up in a lower middle-class neighborhood. We had a single real vacation during my childhood; a week long trip to Virginia Beach when I was eight years old. I remember the kids on my block thinking I was a big shot, getting to swim in the real ocean. None of them seemed to go on any vacations. As I’ve stated many times, the standard of living was much higher then for average people. But traveling really wasn’t a part of the equation for the majority of Americans, let alone the poorest half.

Until John F. Kennedy visited them during the West Virginia primary in his 1960 presidential campaign, the poorest people in America- those mired in Appalachia- were truly invisible. No exciting bling, or rap music, or drive-by shootings. Just desperate poverty. Holes in roofs. Holes in floors. No indoor plumbing. Too many living without electricity. During the 2012 census, it was discovered that some 41.5 percent of Appalachian County residents were living below the poverty line.

Obviously, no one in Appalachia enjoys a summer vacation. How many in our inner cities do? Our housing projects? Our trailer parks? Or the forgotten Native Americans, living an Apartheid existence on dilapidated Reservations? Lyndon Johnson’s “War on Poverty” was a bigger joke, and a bigger failure, than the ensuing “War on Drugs” would be. The dogs and cats in any middle-class neighborhood- never mind any palatial estate- have more creature comforts than humans in Appalachia do.

The shameful disparity of wealth- which I exposed in detail in my book Survival of the Richest, is all the more inexcusable when we consider just how much wealth there is in present-day America. If you divided up all the known wealth- and keep in mind this doesn’t include all the ill begotten offshore profits and money sheltered in tax-free foundations- amongst the people, every man, woman, and child would get something like $341,000. As Huey Long said, Every Man (and Woman) a King. And every child.

I don’t advocate such a thing. We need to keep the path to upward mobility open. The problem is, as I showed in my book, there is presently virtually no upward mobility for the poor and working class. Aside from the worlds of sports and entertainment- and succeeding in them is tantamount to the odds of winning the lottery- almost everyone born poor dies poor. The only ones who rise above their circumstances are those born wealthy, who usually become even richer. As Gerald Celente likes to describe it, “Born on third base, and think you hit a home run.”

I refer to the disparity of wealth as The Greatest Conspiracy of All. It is also the oldest conspiracy; the rich have been waging war against everyone else for all of human history. In the middle ages, royalty would force peasants to stay up all night by the ponds outside their castles, where they would be tasked with hitting the lily pads to stop the frogs from croaking. Some historians believe that among the duties of groomsmen was the wiping of the royal behind. We all know that very wealthy people have help in getting dressed. In a more modern example, many celebrities hire “ghost tweeters” to express their words on Twitter. As they say, the rich are different.

I think that says it all; some Americans have assistants to do virtually everything for them, while others have to sleep on the sidewalks. You don’t have to be a socialist, like Eugene Debs, to understand the profundity in his statement that, “I am opposing a social order in which it is possible for one man who does absolutely nothing that is useful to amass a fortune of hundreds of millions of dollars, while millions of men and women who work all the days of their lives secure barely enough for a wretched existence.” I oppose that system, too, with everything I write and say.

A worker averaging a yearly income of $40,000, over the course of a fifty year employment career, would make a $2,000,000 cumulative income. The average salary for an NBA player is now $7.7 million. One person-Jeff Bezos is worth more than $204 billion. An average worker would have to toil for nearly four lifetimes to earn what the average pro basketball player makes in one season. And he’d have to spend 102,000 years working to earn the net worth of a Jeff Bezos. That kind of thing bothered Eugene Debs. And Huey Long. And it certainly bothers me.

Why don’t we hear some of these allegedly “communist” Democrats talk about this? Why doesn’t Bernie Sanders tout these numbers? No one can argue with them. No one can claim that any person’s life is worth more than 102,000 lifetimes are worth. As I’ve pointed out many times, if you want to judge the value of relative jobs, consider this: all the executives in the country disappear for a month. So do all the cleaning crews and trash pickup workers. Whose absence do you think would be more noticeable?

I criticize the putrid rhetoric of the authoritarian Left on a regular basis. But what about the conservative rhetoric, which scoffs at any raising of the minimum wage? The mantra is: “anybody can flip burgers!” Well, okay, but can’t anyone be a “yes man” vice-president in charge of looking out of the window? The average acolyte in upper management most notably nods in agreement at whatever his superiors say, and keeps a straight face during all those pointless mandatory meetings. I really think most of us could be trained to do that.

With cities like San Francisco and Los Angeles now taking on the ambiance of real Third World areas, this issue is more relevant than ever. Our entire rigged system could be summed up succinctly in that photo from a year or two ago, of upper class San Franciscans eating in an expensive restaurant, as one of the city’s homeless denizens defecates right outside the establishment’s large picture window. I think that illustrates it better than the desperate poverty existing only a few blocks from gated multi-million dollar mansions.

Henry David Thoreau noted that “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.” That is a timeless and insightful observation, but what about the lives of poor men (and women)? You’d need to come up with something more grim than “quiet desperation” to describe that. Generational poverty. A family and social environment that discourages any attempt at personal betterment. Like the lobsters trying to escape the tank, the others will invariably try to drag them back down.

Yesterday, the official Jobs report caused the stock market to go up. Of course, since 90% of all stock is owned by only 10% of the people, this is largely irrelevant to the masses. It’s certainly irrelevant to that bottom half of Americans, and to the one in six who have never traveled outside of their own state. And those totally fake numbers were contradicted, a few weeks earlier, by an intrepid young man in Florida who applied for sixty entry level jobs, and got called in for one interview. And yet the conservative talking point is, “I can’t hire anyone! No one wants to work!”

I am not a conservative. Or a modern day liberal. I’m a populist and a classical liberal. I always stand up for the little guy. Huey Long bragged that he had never taken a case against a poor man. I will never write or say anything against the poor. Their poverty doesn’t bestow virtue upon them, but it does saddle them with disadvantages that few of us could overcome. I wish the Left would spend one tenth the time it spends on bleating about “racism” and “White Supremacy,” to blasting the unfairness and injustice of our class-tiered system.

Only the affluent in this country have any influence, and our “representatives” don’t represent anyone except the wealthy and powerful. The rich are more entitled than the most stereotypical “welfare queen” could ever hope to be. Things we take for granted, like owning a car, are beyond the means of the working poor. I personally know people who are too poor to buy and maintain the expenses of an automobile. They must work within walking distance, or Uber to the job. Which, of course, puts them further behind the eight ball in trying to eke out an existence.

As a young blue-collar worker in the 1980s, very few of my fellow employees were without personal transportation. Physical laborers, not making an impressive salary. But able to own their own car. That is a huge change that has occurred over less than forty years, and almost no one talks about it. And I guess all those lowly paid workers, who can’t afford cars, have another reason why they can’t travel. Not only do they not make enough money, they don’t own a vehicle to travel with.

There are things that can be done to make things fairer. Tax all income for Social Security, not just the first $120,000, as it is under the present regressive system. Tie every company’s maximum compensation package (they usually don’t call them “wages” at the top of the ladder) to a minimum wage. So the highest compensation in the company couldn’t be more than, say, twenty times the lowest compensation. That would even things up as well between small and larger companies.

Few people know that Huey Long’s “Share Our Wealth” program would have exempted the first million dollars of income from any taxation. That would be around $12 million in today’s dollars. So no one would have been paying income taxes at all except for the the most wealthy. Not exactly a communist plan. The biggest Ayn Rand disciple wouldn’t dare suggest a proposal that guaranteed only a tiny percentage of the population would be paying all the taxes. But Huey knew then, as I know now, that this miniscule band of elitists have a monstrously disproportionate share of the collective wealth. To get revenue, you go to who has it. They have it.

It would be impossible to create a system as corrupt and rigged as ours is, without an organized conspiracy behind it. As Truman’s Secretary of Defense James Forrestal said, before they pushed him out of a window at Bethesda Naval Hospital, if there wasn’t a grand conspiracy, once in a while they’d make a mistake in our favor. The historical record shows that nothing they’ve ever done has truly been in our favor.

William Henry Harrison, who served only thirty two days as president, the shortest term of any in American history, once said, “I believe and I say it is true Democratic feeling, that all the measures of the Government are directed to the purpose of making he rich richer and the poor poorer.” This may be the most accurate assessment of our political system that I’ve ever read. There’s a reason why we all nod appreciatively at the working class lament, “the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.” They do.

As I write this, there are mothers fretting over whether their child will make it home alive from the mean streets of their inner city. In Appalachia, they’re gathered around the antiquated wood stove that serves to heat their tiny dwelling. Where there’s no money for a burial. Or a wedding. Or a decent Christmas. We all recognize the brilliance in Dickens’s depiction of greed in Ebeneezer Scrooge. No one thinks poverty is a good thing. And yet, there are more people now than ever before.

In between my acerbic rantings about our hopelessly criminal leaders and their reprehensible system, I try and take a moment to reflect upon what the poet Thomas Gray called “the short and simple annals of the poor.”

The Great Replacement is not “Racist”

Let me make the usual disclaimers. I supported the Civil Rights movement. I reveled in Martin Luther King’s speeches as a young man. I have never knowingly discriminated against anyone for their skin color, religion, sexual preference, gender, etc. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a racist. We all discriminate against others based on their behavior, and how they treat us. That’s normal and not “racist.”

For some years, the White Nationalists have been referring to a campaign to eradicate White people, which they call the Great Replacement. It’s easy to scoff at this, but the facts suggest they’re on to something. The Immigration Reform Act of 1965 completely flipped our long time policy; we went from 90+ percent of all immigrants mandated to come from Europe to 90+ percent mandated to come from nonwhite countries. And this curious change was proposed by exclusively White leaders.

Now why would any country deliberately alter their immigration policies in such a drastic manner, to literally change the complexion of their society? Can we envision the Chinese instituting laws to make China less Chinese? Japan? Korea? Saudi Arabia? Any predominantly nonwhite country in the world? This 1965 Act paved the way for the nonwhite migrants we see today, in America, and other Western (White) nations. But never in any nonwhite lands. No migrants will be heading to China.

It would have been reasonable in 1965 for those White leaders (which included Sen. Ted Kennedy) to suggest that the quotas restricting almost all immigration to Europeans be amended, to open America up to more diversity. But they didn’t do that. They essentially converted an overwhelmingly White immigrant pool into an overwhelmingly nonwhite pool. That wasn’t accidental. It wasn’t rational. It did, however, fit the classic definition of conspiratorial.

It you want to see how far the cultural parameters of debate have shifted, try and find some old programs like the Joe Pyne Show, from the early to mid-1960s, which often discussed racial issues. You had angry Blacks, but they were arguing with angry Whites. Not the emasculated, self-hating cucks we see today. Of course, I was sympathetic with Blacks then, because they hadn’t achieved full equality. There was still a great deal of prejudice against them. But by the 1980s at least, they had become equals.

I remember first sensing the sea change in American society when there was a sudden media-driven push to make Martin Luther King’s birthday a national holiday. I was a huge fan of MLK’s, and spent a lot of time researching his assassination, which was orchestrated by our government. But I didn’t understand the fervor with which this campaign exploded. Jesse Helms was about the only public figure to strongly oppose the measure. Naturally, he was quickly branded “racist.” Which he may well have been; real racists had power then. President Reagan- good “conservative” that he was, offered no real opposition to MLK Day. And, of course, it came to be. When George Washington’s Birthday was changed to President’s Day, then it made Martin Luther King the only individual in American history to have a national holiday.

So MLK was a more significant, impactful figure than Washington, or Thomas Jefferson, or any other Founding Father? I’ve made my negative feelings about Abraham Lincoln crystal clear, but was MLK really a more important figure than him? Certainly, MLK was the most important figure to Black people, who comprise about 12 percent of the U.S. population. And this is when I really began to notice that the interests of this particular 12 percent were becoming predominant to all other interests.

Bill Clinton was christened our first Black president. He certainly capitulated to that 12 percent of the population. Well, in rhetoric. In reality, he helped created the Three Strikes You’re Out and mandatory minimum sentencing laws, which resulted in untold numbers of Black people- whom he was utterly devoted to- winding up with long sentences behind bars. While not Black, Clinton was our first virtue signaling president, who practiced the modern brand of identity politics. Gone were the traditional concerns of liberals, which drew me to the Left in the 1970s; peace, good wages and benefits, prison and legal reform, eradication of poverty, and above all else, protection of civil liberties. Bill Clinton, like the “Woke” monsters today, didn’t believe in free speech.

With the election of Barack Obama, the pro-Black and anti-White atmosphere reached a fever pitch. This man, who has a mysterious past about which much still remains classified, was promoted exclusively as “Black,” despite being abandoned by whoever his Black father was, and being raised entirely by his White mother and her family. In this respect, he was like golfer Tiger Woods, who burst on the scene at the end of the 1990s, and became a sex symbol for the newly cucked White sports fans. Woods was less than half Black, but his Asian mother was not permitted to be photographed with him after he’d won a tournament. They hid her from the public, because she contradicted the “Black” image a fawning media constructed for him.

Trump’s election represented an offensive slap in the face to the social justice warriors who were busily worshiping Obama, Woods, and every other Black celebrity. Trump was a real anachronism, with his rudeness, arrogance, and refusal to apologize. Modern Whites had been trained, by then, to cower, laugh nervously, and beg for forgiveness when instructed to do so. So all that built up passion in college graduates, schooled in gender or African-American studies, that had accumulated during the Clinton and Obama years, exploded into a pussy hat wearing fury. The self-hating Whites began appearing everywhere, to lecture everyone about “White Privilege,” and “toxic masculinity.” Well, White toxic masculinity, that is. No White feminist has ever, or will ever, berate a Black male, or a proud Muslim, over their very real chauvinism.

In our Brave New World Order, anti-White feelings among Whites have become so prevalent that recently a predominately White audience cheered wildly when talk show host Jimmy Fallon reported on the diminishing population numbers for Whites. The same thing happened a few decades ago, when Bill Clinton mentioned how Whites were on the road to becoming a minority in America. This is not normal behavior; to celebrate the decline of your own ethnic group. And again, any other ethnic group in the world would be mortified about such a possible extinction. And the same White talking heads who are ecstatic over Whites dying out would be wearing grave expressions and be demanding swift action to turn the numbers around.

The Endangered Species Act was adopted to stop any future Dodo Bird situations. Whenever a dangerous predator, or a comparatively insignificant butterfly, is endangered, anywhere in the world, the scientists and politicians rush into action. It is indeed sad to contemplate any species dying out completely. The Caucasian race, of human beings, meets every criteria for being endangered. And yet to mention that invites ridicule and scorn, not the concern a Tahiti ant or a Singapore slug would evoke. In recent years, organizations have been started- all of them by White people naturally- to promote more Blacks into Major League Baseball. Whites have been upset over the declining numbers of African-American baseball players. They haven’t started any efforts to address the far more egregious disappearance of White players from the NBA and NFL.

Speaking of sports, we’ve just witnessed a classic “cancellation” of a White public figure, who said something perceived as racist. Jon Gruden, who coached a team just as Black as any other in today’s NFL, was forced out by the NFL after his emails, out of a pool of some 650,000, revealed “racist,” “misogynist,” and “homophobic” sentiments. Some of these emails were a decade old. Imagine having your private comments, from years ago, scrutinized like that. Gruden is rapidly being turned into an Orwellian “unperson.” His name has been removed from Tampa Bay’s Ring of Honor. Warren Sapp, a former player who has been charged with multiple violent offenses, remains there, however. And Tampa Bay has no problem employing Antonio Brown, a chronic criminal offender, on its present roster. That’s “White Privilege” for you.

This came on the heels of new Jeopardy host Mike Richards being “cancelled,” after similar comments from the past surfaced. Gruden, Richards, and every other White ever accused of anything “racist” in recent years summarily lowered themselves to their knees before their “Woke” superiors. And as in all other cases, they weren’t forgiven. They were, however, fired. Cancelled. So a logical question is, why do these prominent White people continue to genuflect in such situations, when they have to know that apologies never, ever work? None ever invoke a free speech defense. None ever say, “he who casts the first stone.” The script is literally always the same. And virtually no one with a platform ever defends them to any meaningful degree.

That’s the odd part about the “White Supremacy” that rules this society, according to the White people who are presently in charge of this nightmare. They don’t seem to be very…supreme. It’s almost like Whites can be “cancelled” for the slightest accusation of something said against nonwhites, or transgenders. And yet, old White Joe Biden tells us that these invisible, powerless “White Supremacists” represent the greatest “threat” to America. Well, I guess maybe they do, to the “Woke” authoritarians who are pulling his strings. If they existed, that is. Tucker Carlson was almost fired by Fox News for simply telling the truth; there are no “White Supremacists.” They are truly extinct. But just to point that out is a red flag to this odious cancel culture.

The strangest part of all is that decades of an increasingly anti-White agenda, and obsequious virtue signaling to Blacks, has not resulted in the majority of Black people improving their lot in life. They still remain mired in dreadful ghettos, which are romanticized by the same White-run cultural overlords that police “racist” Thought Crimes. Instead of improving the education of most Black youngsters, our “Woke” authorities have decided to institutionalize their ignorance. Improper English is now “Ebnoics.” Basic grammar, and basic math, have both been labeled as “racist” by the same people who label everything “racist” now. Blacks who lack proper articulation skills, who mix up plurals and singulars, are given jobs as television “journalists.” I’ve heard Blacks who have Ivy League degrees speak like uneducated athletes. And no one dares to point it out.

But for most Blacks, things haven’t gotten any better. Rhetorical “favoritism” doesn’t pay the bills. I guess some of them get a satisfaction out of complaining about what some poor White sap said, and getting him fired for it. Certainly the White virtue signalers who make those “cancellations” happen get a real kick from it. Getting people fired or “cancelled” is what propels the Democratic Party at this point. It is their most important issue now; stopping people from saying something “offensive.” I never understood how people losing their job could make others happy. That’s probably why I could never have been a boss; I would have a hard time firing anyone, even those I really didn’t like. But today’s Left gets really turned on by it.

I realize what an intellectual outcast I am here. There is no White person, with any kind of prominence, who talks honestly about race in today’s America. All Black persons of prominence, on the other hand, talk about nothing but race. Why Whites can’t see this is a recipe for disaster is beyond me. Whites are almost forbidden from mentioning race at all, unless it’s to express their hatred for Whites, or express their guilt or regret about how other Whites treated other Blacks in the past. We obviously cannot have a “meaningful dialogue” about race when only one race is allowed to do the dialoguing. Tucker Carlson and a few others come close to talking honestly about race, but even they will not mention the absurd anti-White discrimination in sports, for instance.

All this may seem insignificant in the midst of the Greatest Psyop in the History of the World, which could result in the Unvaccinated being shunned as second-class citizens. Separate restrooms. Apartheid. Being refused service in restaurants. Maybe we could organize sit-ins at lunchroom counters. I think it’s been done before. But “it’s not the same thing!” will be the refrain of the angry, pussy hat-wearing Karens. Some discrimination is more equal than others. It’s not the exclusion or the unfairness that they object to, as long as those being excluded and treated unfairly are the “right” ones. Same thing with free speech; they’re fine with anything you say, as long as they agree with you. Or at least aren’t “offended,” which they usually are.

Maybe I shouldn’t even care. I win few friends, and make more enemies, when I write about race. I have no “pride” about being White. But I don’t have any shame over it, either. I had nothing to do with it. We are all born the way we are, without having a choice in the matter. But I have White children, and hope to have grandchildren one day, who will probably be White. I don’t want them being mistreated any more than Martin Luther King wanted his children being mistreated. I don’t want them to miss out on good job opportunities because of misguided, antiquated Affirmative Action policies. It’s either always wrong to use race as a factor in hiring, or it’s never wrong. I’ve long advocated that “Race” questions be eliminated on every government or business form, except for the Census. It can only result in some kind of discrimination.

“Critical Race Theory” is, at least, being strongly objected to by an increasing number of White parents. Making very young children feel guilt over a “privilege” very, very few of them are born into is child abuse. But then so is much of today’s odious public school curriculum. CRT, which most corporate and government leaders subscribe to, is the foundation for the false narrative about race that prevails within our state-run media. The narrative is that “White Privilege” and “White Supremacists” rule, despite the fact any White who says something construed as “racist” is quickly fired by those same “White Supremacists.” And the “White Supremacists” who run corporate America literally all condemn “racism” and usually financially support the likes of Black Lives Matter. They don’t make “White Supremacists” like they used to.

I want a color-blind marketplace. A society where race is irrelevant to laws, rules, and standards of conduct. We should embrace and celebrate differences. I don’t know any White people who hate Blacks, or want to hold them down in some way. We should follow the lead of Martin Luther King, and Huey Long, by unifying around our common human interests. “The Man” is our common enemy. The corrupt elite fear nothing more than us all joining hands against them.

My favorite political figure is Cynthia McKinney, a powerful Black radical. I interviewed her last week, and she told me how she is reaching out to White Nationalists, who share the same concerns as Black Nationalists. Cynthia recognizes that it is class, not race, that is the problem in America, and around the world. Our enormous wealth is concentrated in the hands of a very few oligarchs. Identity Politics distracts us all from what truly impacts the lives of the people; the systemic corruption and the sinful disparity of wealth.

From 9/11 to Mandates- Elvis Has Left the Building

The twenty year anniversary of the “terrorist” attacks of September 11, 2001 came and went without much fanfare. They don’t want to focus too much on it, because that might cause some sheeple to notice just how laughable the “evidence” in the official narrative is. The less said about it, the better from their perspective.

I am not a fan of Spike Lee. In fact, I am repulsed by pretty much everything he says. His movies have tended to be variations on the hackneyed “life in the ‘hood” theme, glorifying the ignorance and violence of our inner cities. But he appears to be somewhat of a 9/11 skeptic. He knows enough to talk knowledgably about the melting of steel and other impossible aspects of the official fairy tale. And he garnered the wrath of the establishment by talking to a few “conspiracy theorists” during his miniseries about New York, which recently aired on HBO.

The Left and Right don’t agree on much of anything anymore, ever since the actor Trump was inserted into the political scene to divide the country. But they remain in lockstep opposition to any and all notions of conspiratorial activity on the part of our horrendous leaders. Thus, Lee- a normally sacrosanct figure in “Woke” society due to his outspoken African-Americanness, was condemned equally by Breitbart and Salon. And he quickly backed down, contradicting his public persona as an angry Black man that has no respect for “the Man” who has made him filthy rich.

Another angry Black, female rapper Nicki Minaj, recently advised people on Twitter to be skeptical about the vaccines. It was actually a very reasonable tweet, full of common sense, if you discount the typically potty-tinged example of swollen testicles. Although the same predictable establishment firestorm erupted; unlike Lee, Minaj isn’t backing down. Yet, anyhow. If any hope in Orwell’s Oceana lay in the Proles, perhaps our hope in this dying society lies in rappers, and other high profile angry Blacks. They are the only ones in this authoritarian mess that still appear to enjoy the right of free speech.

Remembering 9/11, in terms of the mainstream media, meant rehashing the emotion again, detailing stories of tragic, personal loss and purported heroism. Glorification of “first responders,” who are now maybe even more deified than the troops. Lots of photos of victims- many of them suspiciously blurry and low quality. I don’t know what that means, but those memorial photos are often shockingly sub par. We have thousands of photos of our family, and none look like that.

Outside of Spike Lee’s initial snippets of input from Architects and Engineers for 9/11 Truth, there wasn’t a single discouraging word uttered anywhere in our state controlled media about the impossible 9/11 narrative. While they never hid the fact that the public largely doubted the Oswald-did-it nonsense, our “journalists” and politicians have always acted as if the very mention of dissent on 9/11 is beyond the pale. How dare you? Don’t you care about the families? Or the firefighters?

An alarming number of those firefighters, and other witnesses, initially reported hearing explosions in the Twin Towers, and in Building 7, which also collapsed that day. The magical “jet fuel cocktail” fingered as the unlikely culprit in the Twin Towers could not be blamed for Building 7 coming down in its own footprint as well. No plane hit Building 7, thus there could have been no jet fuel to not get hot enough to melt its steel frame. But still, that’s the claim. Evidence schmevidence.

If you’ve bothered to look at the impact site at the Pentagon, you’ll see a hole that is far too small for the huge jet aircraft claimed to have hit it. There is no mark of impact from the wings, and the wings weren’t sheared off outside. So where did they go? Where, in fact, did all that wreckage go? Since the Pentagon has more security cameras than any other spot in the world, it is truly remarkable than we’ve never seen footage of whatever it was that struck it. As both Don King and George W. Bush were fond of saying, “Only in America!” Or as forgotten comedian Yakov Smirnoff used to say, “What a country!”

I documented many of the most glaring lunacies of the official 9/11 story, which is most certainly a conspiracy theory by any definition, in my book Hidden History. In Hidden History 3, which I’m working on now, I will delve deeper into the subject. The jumpers, for instance. We are told that at least a few hundred people in the Twin Towers plunged to their deaths that day, in a macabre bit of mass suicide. I’ve never found it plausible that so many presumably non-suicidal people could lose the will to live so quickly. And now I’ve found that the government’s own “investigation” determined that the first person to jump from the North Tower did so four minutes after the plane impacted the building. Really? Is that remotely believable?

Consider the witnesses our state controlled media turned to on the streets of New York City. They were all smooth, savvy, and instantly aware that this had been a “terrorist” attack. One of those they singled out was Rachel Uchitel, who had lost her fiance on 9/11. Amazingly, this woman would make the news years later as one of the higher profile mistresses of troubled golfer Tiger Woods. Some people just lead exciting lives, I guess.

Just as with the JFK assassination, and so many other important political events, 9/11 has an impressive Body Count associated with it. I detailed some of them in my book, and will be chronicling others in Hidden History 3. I’m having a hard time reaching anyone to interview about that day, even some who were very vocal early on about hearing explosives. It’s little wonder most family members choose to remain silent. 97% of the families agreed to accept payouts from a $7 billion fund.

Given the dishonest and fanciful state of reporting in this country, it’s impossible to say how many real heroes rose to the occasion on 9/11. We do know for certain that there were no heroes then, and none since, among our political “representatives” and their mouthpieces in the state-run media. No “truther” is going to get elected to public office. And no one- and I mean no one- questions the narrative in the mainstream media. It is a career ender to do so.

I participated in a roundtable discussion about 9/11 on September 11, 2021, with Billy Ray Valentine, Tony Arterburn and others, on America Unplugged Radio. The forums I have available to me are the only places where these questions can be asked, and alternative views aired. Otherwise, we are looking at Tass-Pravda here. The only thing we’re missing is a Siberia to send naysayers to. And that might be exactly what those FEMA camps are for.

The vast majority of Americans bought the illogical, incredibly stupid “19 crazed Arabs armed with boxcutters and plastic knives” theory without batting an eye. So by the time the great Plandemic was introduced last year, they had years of experience under their belt, in terms of absorbing ridiculous scenarios and explanations. Lewis Carroll notably wrote about believing six impossible things before breakfast. Millions of our countrymen believe more than six impossible things every day. Just consider how many impossible things are promulgated during the average television broadcast.

Even the most rational voices on large public platforms; Tucker Carlson, Pat Buchanan, Glenn Greenwald, to name just a few, are very reluctant to entertain any “conspiracy theories.” Or, more appropriately, any questioning of the authorities in the most widely reported “big events,” from JFK to Waco to Oklahoma City to 9/11 to Sandy Hook. Our leaders are more than dishonest and corrupt. Many are criminally culpable to varying degrees in these “big events.” Concealing, losing, and destroying evidence. Failing to investigate anything. Accepting the tyrannical clamp down on civil liberties which inevitably follows. They fit the definition of conspirators.

Donald Trump, who Roger Stone assured me “knows about all the conspiracies,” certainly isn’t questioning anything. He initially talked about there being explosions in the WTC, but in four years as president didn’t raise a single doubt. About 9/11, JFK, or any other Deep State crime. Mark Twain once said that if America had a native criminal class, it was Congress. I would extend that criminal class to elected officials at all levels in this crumbling, once great country. These criminal elites are never held accountable for their actions. They are utterly, undeniably, above the law.

Until we hold them accountable, nothing will change. They will merely continue to kill, plunder, lie, and cover up. As Jim Garrison once said about the CIA, they have no reason to change what they’re doing- it’s been very successful for them. It was delicious to contemplate all those perp walks, promised repeatedly by QAnon. But no arrests took place, let alone mass arrests. Hillary wasn’t tried in some secret court. No celebrities were arrested. All these corrupt criminals remain free at large.

I keep records from many of the astounding numbers of unjust convictions under our putrid legal system. You would not believe how many saps are convicted to life sentences on the flimsiest of evidence. Often, only a single uncredible witness, who frequently later recants their testimony, is the extent of the “evidence” against them. Reasonable doubt, like presumption of innocence, is something almost all brain-dead juries pay no heed to. Unless the defendant is that extreme rarity; a celebrity or someone very wealthy.

The “justice” system in the United States exists to “serve” the poor and working class. Anyone with enough financial means is immune from lordly judges, aggressively dishonest prosecutors, and idiotic jurors. So the system as presently constructed will never prosecute the Deep State villains, the most ferocious swamp creatures. The swamp can’t be drained, because the entirety of the machinery is controlled by it. As Bob Dylan once said, “The pump don’t work, cause the vandals took the handles.”

Because I’ve investigated so many of these Deep State crimes and cover ups, and been awake for so very long, I am really losing patience with those who refuse to wake up to the massive corruption everywhere. I’ve been polite, I’ve respected their right to stay asleep. But their willing ignorance and subservience in the face of tyranny is now endangering us all. They’ve allowed these tyrants to keep pushing and pushing, without exhibiting the minutest trace of resistance.

The Plandemic Lie is the stupidest of all the Big Lies a majority of our fellow citizens have meekly accepted over the years. There has never been another vaccine that has to be taken multiple times, within a close period of time. And apparently provides no protection to the recipient, since the demands are still there for others to get it to keep the vaccinated “safe.” The CDC, not Donald Jeffries, tells you that this vaccine has killed more people than all the others combined since 1901. And yet, our state controlled media continues to parrot that it “works.” You need everyone else to get it, and you’ll need lots of follow up “booster” shots, but it “works.”

The “science” our deluded, dumbed down family and friends are believing is not even McScience. It’s anti-science. And it recoils at any real scientific inquiry. But then again, we’ve been here before. They tell us that temperatures in the WTC never reached the temperature “science” has established as the melting point for steel. And yet, with a straight face, they inform us that the explanation for the unprecedented collapse of those massive steel frame structures is that the steel melted.

If this were a science fiction film, or even if we were living through the wonderfully interesting nonsense of Lewis Carroll in real life, there would be an intoxicating entertainment factor. But there is no entertainment value in being a part of this madness. Impossible Things and “curiouser and curiouser” are enjoyable stimulants for the imagination. But it’s not fun when you can’t close the book and return to “normal.” This authoritarian nonsense is the “new normal.” Something about truth being stranger than fiction comes to mind at this point.

I’ll almost certainly become a genuine pariah in my fully vaccinated extended family. They never listened to me about JFK, Waco, 9/11, or anything else. They aren’t going to start now, with those odious Svengalis pumping them with nonstop fear porn every time they turn on their television. Americans who have bought this insanity don’t deserve to be called anything less than brainwashed, Pavlovian rats. They hear a bell from the authorities, and they salivate on cue.

If there is hope, as I noted, it lies in the angriest Blacks. So I will be pushing the line that the vaccines are racist. Why would you trust “the Man” to inject you with something? Remember Tuskegee? That’s really the only chance we have; that the overlords of “Woke” identity politics recoil from this unforeseen change in their programming. Maybe their heads will explode as they confront a BLM-style rage against their sacred vaccines.

For the rest of us, “it ain’t over til it’s over” no longer applies. The bully has beaten you to a bloody pulp. While the teachers cheer them on. You never attempted to fight back, when you still could. Now it’s too late. Trust in God, and pray that Black anger becomes uncontrollable enough to put a wrench into their evil plans.

Raising the White Flag on the Gender War

Back in the days of yore, the 1960s and 1970s, males were large and in charge in America. It was indeed “a man’s world.” Now, keep in mind, this was the era of my childhood. The 1950s and earlier was obviously even more male-centric. Go back to the 1800s, and women had virtually no rights. They couldn’t vote until the 1920s.

“Women’s Liberation” had seeped into the culture by the late 1960s. You could see references to it in all the popular shows; even Granny Clampett came under the wing of some early feminists during the last, shark-jumping season of The Beverly Hillbillies. Andy had an increasingly feminist girlfriend, Helen Crump, on the last few shark- jumping seasons of the great Andy Griffith Show. The early messages were already being sent by our cultural overlords.

And you already had the most prevalent theme in film and television; female characters physically beating up male characters, front and center even then. Wilma and Betty could easily throw Fred and Barney with their judo expertise on The Flintstones. Lily could knock Herman out with one punch on The Munsters. Beaver was being bullied by a tough little girl on Leave it to Beaver. Rob was easily judo flipped by Laura on The Dick Van Dyke Show. The pattern was very clear and universal.

But even in the 1970s, most programming, despite those early examples of politically correct conditioning, was designed exclusively for male viewers. Only daytime soap operas and game shows were structured to appeal to females. My father could choose between male-centric westerns, detective shows, cop shows, variety shows, and comedies where the man wasn’t usually the butt of the joke. We didn’t see any husbands spanking their wives at that point, as Ricky regularly did to Lucy Ricardo, but male role models were still strong, and obviously in charge.

For those unfamiliar with the concept of gradualism, you must study the history of the entertainment medium. At some point, certainly by the 1990s, the script writers stopped using judo and karate as justification for smaller females overpowering and defeating larger male characters. They just had them launch a punch with their dainty fists, and the males went down like David slaying Goliath. We certainly see that in today’s poisonous cinema, where 100 lb. super model/actresses mimic some Matrix-like moves and disarm large males in SWAT team gear. Or head butt a male holding a gun on them. And male audiences lap it up. They seem to think this is “hot.”

This identical, deadly message; that any female can beat up any male, has been drummed into the heads of American audiences for decades now. The propaganda has been so effective that I seem to be about the only observer who has noticed it. This might be understandable if it was played for laughs. It really never is. Tiny Hermione punching out the evil, older blonde guy in the Harry Potter films, Eric Cartman being pummeled mercilessly by a Mike Tyson-like Wendy in South Park, Lois Lane going from being rescued by Superman to punching out every male she encounters. The much younger little sister beating up both her brother and his friend on Drake and Josh. The examples are everywhere. It is the most enduring meme in our modern “culture.”

The empowering of females went beyond fisticuffs. All media began stereotyping young girls as fantastic athletes, who were capable of besting young boys in any competition. Of course, there was The Bad News Bears. And its football counterpart, Little Giants. All children’s programming featured the dominant girl athlete, from Patti Mayonnaise in Doug to Francine on Arthur. Really, this goes back much farther; remember Betty Jo on Petticoat Junction, whose nickname “Shortstop” was a nod to her baseball skills? And female boxing became lauded; a brutal sport which should have been banned long ago was rejuvenated with products like Million Dollar Baby.

But having men be portrayed as the physically weaker sex was not enough. They’d already established, in every sitcom, drama and big budget film imaginable, that females were mentally superior. The next step was to diminish males to such an extent that they became pieces of meat, sex objects if you will. So where films once focused on female nudity, if there was to be any, they simply flipped the script completely, so that today almost all nudity we see in films consists of male bare bottoms. And increasingly even penises. On television, I have never seen any nudity except male bare bottoms. Ever. This goes back to NYPD Blue, where viewers were treated to the likes of Dennis Franz exposing their bottoms. No actresses. Just actors.

I’m not sure why there should be any cartoon nudity, but even there, it only applies to male characters. The Simpsons has shown the butts of its male characters, even little Bart, for decades. But no female characters. The same theme persists on Family Guy, South Park, and Rick and Morty. Consider how ridiculous this is; we’re talking about drawings, lines and shapes. And yet even there, the propagandists can’t stray from the agenda. And that agenda is to humiliate males and “empower” females. The feminists who protested the “objectification” of females have no problem objectifying men.

The “empowering” mantra is the rationale behind all the “tough,” scowling young females that dominate films and television shows. Any trace of femininity has been been eliminated from them with surgical precision. No tender smiles, no kindness or empathy; you know, the characteristics men have historically loved in women. . Just “resting bitch faces.” And obnoxious aggressiveness. The willingness to get physical at the slightest provocation.

But this dominant attitude, and the curious ability to physically defeat larger males, only works on one particular demographic. That would be the hapless White males. So you aren’t going to see any little girls, teenagers, or adult women, grab a strapping Black male by the lapels and fling him up against the wall, as he cowers in fear. Or knock him cold with one powerful blow. No, that is reserved for the cucked out White males of all ages, who have been transformed into “soy boys” who now walk a step behind the strident females who they have accepted as their superiors.

I was inspired to write this after watching one of those DC animated films I generally enjoy. This one was called Superman: Man of Tomorrow. I liked the animation, and the plot was interesting. But they crossed another of those lines, when they decided to show Superman’s bare butt a few times. Not Lois Lane’s. Or any other “female” stick figure. And for good measure, they showed one of the male villain’s asses, too. And the gratuitous profanity was unnecessary as well. Are they purposefully trying not to appeal to children, who should be their strongest audience?

Despite all my personal anecdotal evidence of seeing nothing but male nudity on television, and far more male than female nudity in films in recent years, mainstream media tells us otherwise. I searched and found several recent articles about “studies” that bemoaned how much more female than male nudity existed onscreen. I’m not sure what films they were watching, and I’d like to know of any television show where one of the main female characters was ever naked. In the offbeat show Mr. Robot, every single male leading character bared his bottom at some point for the viewers. Graphic gay sex was shown. But never any female nudity.

Actor Kevin Bacon, virtue signaling for all he was worth, complained on one of those identical late night “Woke” talk shows about five years ago, that there should be more male nudity onscreen. I guess he wasn’t satisfied with the way old Jack Nicholson pointlessly bared his butt in one of this last films, or how poor Robin Williams was humiliated by having one of those patient gowns (and it really only works onscreen for male patients, of course), fly open and show the world his elderly ass, in his last film. I’ll be waiting for such scenes from Meryl Streep or Julia Roberts.

Let’s face it; all nude scenes are gratuitous and unnecessary to the plot of any film or TV show. But they reflect the values of society, and who is setting the boundaries. In the 1960s and 1970s, men were still in charge, and cultural products reflected that. They promoted what most men wanted to see. Now, while men still constitute most of the elite, a decision has been made to demean and weaken the average male, while providing the average onscreen female with the role Ward Cleaver and his ilk once enjoyed during the Golden Age of America.

Much of this onerous agenda comes from toxic feminism. At least that’s how intelligent and healthy males should view it; as onerous and toxic. But I recognize the average American man, especially Whites, have learned to enjoy this twisted reality. One of the most popular porn fetishes now are White male “cuckolds” who get off on watching their wives have sex with Black men. While they are verbally humiliated in the process. I can’t imagine any other males doing this. Picture Chinese men getting excited over being cucked by their wives with Japanese lovers. Is this really any different from predominantly White, western countries welcoming nonwhite migrants with open arms? While not a single nonwhite country does?

While our state controlled media tells us that women still earn only 82 cents or whatever to every male dollar, they have finally acknowledged that females in their twenties are earning more than their male counterparts. And females account for more than half of all college graduates now. Which isn’t surprising, given how long teachers and principals have favored girls over boy students, a subject I explored in my book Bullyocracy. Females of all ages are better at following rules, and not questioning them. Which perhaps at least partially explains this phenomenon.

Those of us left in this new matriarchy have to live with the fact we’ll never be “the man of the house.” Or the king of our castles. If the “new normal” of lowered expectations and standards of living gets its way, we won’t even be king of our cubicles. Approach any female you’re attracted to with extreme trepidation. If she thinks you’re “weird” for wanting to ask her out, you may be subjected to sensitivity training. Or possibly “canceled” from your job. You can’t compliment them. Or criticize them. So what can you do to establish a relationship?

I feel great sympathy for young men today. How do you meet a female now? You are subject to charges of harassment for the slightest alleged transgression. If the woman doesn’t find you attractive (and they don’t seem to find most males attractive now- look up the whole “Chads and Incels” thing), all communication becomes suspect. You’ve come a long way, baby; from secretaries sleeping with the boss being practically a job requirement to having the power to get men you don’t like punished or fired.

I don’t want to be misunderstood. I cringe when I think of what my great-grandmother must have gone through as a genuine second-class citizen. No voting rights. Husbands basically granted the freedom to, as Andy Griffith once put it in an early episode, give their wives “what for.” It was common for women in those days of the patriarchy to be chastised by all for “talking back” to their husbands. Remember, it wasn’t all that long ago that wives promised to “love, honor, and obey” their husbands. And, of course, marriages then were between “man and wife.”

So, I don’t want to go back to those times, when women were confined to their pantries, and spent hours every day on physically grueling housework. Or where they were frightened to express an opinion. But did we have to go from that extreme to a celebration of female obesity, to mass tattoos, to ugly attitudes and chronic unfriendliness, exemplified by those “resting bitch faces?” Did men have to go from bossing their wives to being bossed?

But this matriarchy may not last long. The incomprehensible transgender movement has already consigned much of feminism to the dust bin of history. That whole “my body, my choice” thing will no longer be a key weapon in the feminist arsenal. After all, our cultural overlords now tell us that not only women give birth. And, in fact, that “women” is an offensive term, to the transgender community. So goodbye, toxic feminism, and welcome….toxic transgenderism?

This battle is lost. If it ever was a battle. I’m not sure why there had to be a “war between the sexes,” as the media used to promote it. The matriarchy that’s been established is a soft one. The single mothers, waiting tables and struggling to make ends meet with an inadequate pay check, can’t feel as if they’ve “won’ anything. This is a war where there never was a real winner, in 1921 or 2021. Those pulling the strings are truly in charge, always. And they always win.

As I detailed in Survival of the Richest, the bottom half of American workers make less than $27,000 and have less collectively than 1% of the total wealth. This includes the new, aggressive, dominant females in that lower 50%. Over 70% of workers of all genders and races are living paycheck to paycheck, and have virtually no savings. So what I’m discussing is largely symbolic. The only visible change from patriarchy to matriarchy is likely to be more females as CEOs and upper management. More women running what has turned into a disastrous mess. Maybe they’ll be blamed for it by the newly empowered transgenders.

Admiring a beautiful female should be the most natural thing in the world. The romantic poets and artists of the Enlightenment certainly recognized that. Much as our real rulers are terrified at the prospect of White, Black, Brown, Red, and Yellow hands joining together to fight their common enemy, they certainly fear the sexes uniting against them as well. The average man never had the power to oppress the average woman, and the average woman won’t have that power, either.

At least during that male dominated period, women had some nice benefits. Doors literally being held open. “It’s a woman’s right to change her mind.” And all the males who were taught “you don’t hit girls” and passed that on to their children, must be shaking their heads in irony at all the ass-kicking female depictions now onscreen. Women “held the purse springs.” And most men placed women on a pedestal. They were worshiped and exalted. Albeit while being denied true equality. But still.

The hapless males today aren’t held on any pedestal. They are objects of ridicule, and despite those famous bare behinds being displayed to audiences, very few non-celebrity males are considered sex objects. All those forty year old virgins, which didn’t used to exist and are exemplified by the unfortunately growing numbers of “Incels,” testify to that. Sure they can vote, and aren’t discriminated against in terms of pay, but there doesn’t seem to be much upside to it.

Maybe I’m just waxing rhapsodic over a time that is as extinct as the dodo bird. Ralph Kramden never really would have hit Alice hard enough to send her to the moon. But the line was funny. That was when you didn’t have to think before you laughed. Most men didn’t have it that great back then, either. They just didn’t have to put up with “resting bitch faces” or lectures about “mansplaining.” I guess that’s something. It’s a shame we never tried to see how it would work if the sexes were relatively equal.

Empowerment is a good thing. But it should not be done at the expense of others. I’d like to see all the underpaid, stressed out, frustrated workers be empowered. With decent pay and meaningful benefits, and pleasant working conditions. That alone would significantly improve all social interaction.

However you look at it, the era of male dominance, which endures in the memories of those old enough to have experienced it, and in all the media that was produced during that time, which is in great danger of being “cancelled,” is utterly over. I’m not even sure what it means to be a man now. Being physically powerful? Being sensitive? I guess ask the women in your life. They probably won’t know, either, but they won’t be shy about sharing their perspectives. After all, those that truly decide things have decreed that they’re in charge.

It Takes a Village to Dupe the Public

Each day now brings some new outrage, some authoritarian utterance from one of the petty tyrants that misrule us at every level of this crumbling society. Eugenicist and nonscientist Bill Gates humbly suggests maybe we ought to deny Social Security benefits to the Unvaccinated. The “journalists” on television smear the murdered Ashli Babbitt as a “terrorist,” and praise her formerly unidentified police officer killer as the real victim, and a genuine hero.

It’s impossible these days to tell an Onion headline from a CNN or New York Times headline. How could a show like SCTV exist now, with identity politics having destroyed comedy, and made satire impossible? So, we finally withdraw from Afghanistan, and everyone is shocked that our leaders managed it just as horribly as they managed the occupation, and our pointless foreign escapades in general. What is the inference behind all the justified criticism? Not that this is another proof of how bad our bipartisan, interventionist foreign policy is, but that we ought to jump right back in and straighten things out. And there is far more concern about the “vulnerable” Afghans, than for the hapless American citizens trapped there. Open those borders a little wider! We want more migrants, and we want them now! And don’t you worry about them having this deadly virus; just put that second mask on and get your booster shot.

As I look around me, I see stupidity everywhere. It’s easier to get angry when it’s dressed in oversized sweat pants, or pajamas in public, and adorned with lovely tattoos, nose rings, and multi-colored hair. I often shake my head and think, these are the people we have to rely on to overturn the tyranny, and address the corruption. Talking with them makes one even more depressed. What was once the sole province of the least educated citizens, the purveyors of Ebonics, is now widespread. The average young White girl today basically speaks a different strain of Ebonics, sprinkled with liberal “Oh, my Gods!” and a lilting emphasis on the last syllable of a particular word.

So bringing in an untold number of Afghanis, whom as I understand it have an average IQ of 85 or so, really won’t dumb things down that much more. We’ve already allowed countless Somalis- whose average IQ is even lower than that- to rise to positions of prominence in Minnesota. And given how submissive and clueless almost all Whites have been over the past few decades especially, it’s time to stop bragging about our IQs. Whatever the tests show, I am beginning to believe Whites are the dumbest race ever to walk the face of the earth. What other race of people have ever openly applauded their extinction, and engaged in nonstop self-hatred?

I guess I’m just cranky. My own family situation is not going to get better. Both my children and I are effectively banned from attending my niece’s wedding, because we are Unvaccinated. Well, we can go if we get the jab. Or can show a recent negative COVID test. “Show us your papers” before you take that slice of wedding cake. Kind of puts a damper on the festivities. We may never see that part of the family again. We’re not going to get vaccinated, and they- like most of America- aren’t going to wake up to this absurd psyop.

I may never see my sister again, either. She’s much older than me, and has been in poor health for quite a while. Her kids- who used to look up to me as a big brother- are in lockstep with the ridiculous “science” being promoted by corrupt bureaucrats like Anthony Fauci. They are going to follow orders just as assuredly as I will scoff at and disobey them. So we’re at an impasse. Blood is apparently not thicker than a Plandemic.

It has been seriously suggested that the Unvaccinated not be allowed to buy food. In other words, that they be starved. Well, FDR’s lackey Morgenthau wanted to starve the entire German population, and the court historians don’t seem to have a problem with that. Like Lincoln’s tyranny, let’s call it a precedent. Countless people are losing their jobs because they won’t submit to taking a vaccine that the CDC- not any “conspiracy theorist”- tells us has already killed far more people than all the other vaccines combined since 1901. And now it’s FDA approved! Rejoice, comrades! The same FDA that banned Laetrile- the kernel of an apricot- and approved the poisonous NutraSweet. But that’s “science” for you.

If you think things are bad now, just consider this. Some of those obese, tattooed monstrosities are reproducing, or will shortly be. And as Idiocracy and a study of history reminds us, the type seemingly less fit for breeding is always the most fertile. It’s the high earners, who are desperate for children and have the means to provide a comfortable life for them, that struggle to breed successfully. There is no rational answer for this very obvious fact of life, but any observer of the human scene knows it’s true. And, of course, poor Hispanics, Blacks, and Muslims all over the world, are joyfully reproducing. “Be fruitful and multiply,” they seem to be saying. It’s only those high IQ Whites who now often look at pregnancy as bad news, and fret over bringing children into this cold, cruel world.

So, looking at the future, we do definitely see Orwell’s “boot stamping on a human face forever.” But we also see a largely nonwhite, incredibly stupid and controllable population. If you think Lori Lightfoot, Rachel Levine, and Gretchen Whitmer are bad, look at some of Joe Biden’s court appointees. All of which, by the way, Donald Trump’s old friend Lindsay Graham has voted to approve. If you’ve wondered what it must have been like to have been a Black man accused of looking improperly at a White girl entering a 1920s courtroom in the deep south, think of what it will be like to be an unapologetic White man entering a courtroom in present-day America, which is being presided over by one of Biden’s overtly anti-White racist judges. Payback is a bitch, and all that.

As Barack Obama noted, very few of us “build” our success without any help. This was basically the subtext of my book Survival of the Richest; in fact, the original title I wanted to use was You Didn’t Build That. But the converse is true as well; very few of us build any failure without any help, either. Good luck or bad luck alone can tip the scales in a person’s life. The “village” Hillary Clinton spoke of is the horrific corporatocracy that has been constructed in America; a marriage of government and business, which is the definition of fascism. The schools, television, movies, music, politicians, and clueless parents all play their parts. In the 1800s, this “village” would normally produce fiercely independent, tough, and hard working individuals. Our modern “village” produces “victims” of various stripes. And victims can’t exist without predators. Bloodthirsty eugenicists; satanic, amoral creatures are our predators.

As Harry Truman’s Secretary of Defense James Forrestal told his good friend Sen. Joe McCarthy, before he was pushed out of a window at Bethesda Naval Hospital, if there wasn’t a grand conspiracy, once in a while they’d make a mistake in our favor. If life has no ultimate purpose, and we are all just random collections of genes, then at least occasionally someone would rise to prominence who wanted to help the little guy. Who wanted to end war. Who wanted to stop corruption. Who wanted to fight injustice. But, when some leader even hints at these things; think Huey Long, John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Robert F. Kennedy, for example- they are accorded what George Bernard Shaw called “the most extreme form of censorship.”

The corruption is so systemic that American society has practically ground to a sanity standstill. Try calling any company for anything at this point. You’re routed through pointless, annoying automated menus seemingly designed to get you to hang up in frustration. Then there is a routine extended wait because “we are experiencing heavy call volume at this time.” From my experience, they are always experiencing heavy call volume. By “they” I mean everyone. We are supposed to believe that all companies are overwhelmed with calls at all times. I work from home, but I can only imagine how impossible it is for anyone working a regular day shift to contact any business.

We have reached the apex of what Charles Dickens referred to, more than 150 years ago, by turning over all authority to “experts in how not to get it done.” I have some kind of problem with most purchases I make. The order was incorrect. The product doesn’t work. Well, I guess that’s what you get with slave labor. Ten cents an hour doesn’t exactly guarantee quality workmanship. When I’ve returned electronics that literally didn’t work at all, the stores in question often shrug and say, “what do you expect for $19.99?” Well, I expect any product being sold to at least work, regardless of the price. But that’s where we’re at, and what they want; lowered expectations. A lowered standard of living. The “new normal.”

Is there any honesty anywhere? Can we hold any public official, at any level, accountable for anything? The law has essentially become irrelevant to the One Percent. Whether it’s Hunter Biden’s laptop full of supposedly documented pedophilia, or the NFL’s DeShaun Watson’s twenty two different women accusing him of sexual abuse, people at that level cannot, and will not, be punished for even the most reprehensible behavior. Which, in their cases, means raping underage girls or sexually assaulting masseuses. You simply cannot continue the charade of a free country when anyone with great wealth is utterly outside the reach of your thoroughly corrupt system of “justice.”

“If there is hope, it lies in the Proles,” George Orwell wrote in 1984. You should all be reading or rereading 1984 right now- it’s really relevant. If there is hope for us, it lies in the parents. I’m talking about the angry parents we’re seeing more and more of, in my own neighboring Loudon County, Virginia, and elsewhere across the country, confronting their local school boards over the despicable curriculums and unconstitutional, unscientific mandates. One angry young woman addressed her board of supervisors by calling them “petty tyrants.” That is the reality we face; even at that low tier of the power structure, those with the power are indeed outrageous, arrogant tyrants.

But change can only realistically happen at that level. Our lordly federal “representatives” are well beyond our control. They are in effect royalty without crowns. But maybe, just maybe, we can start recalling those school board members, or pressuring them into resigning. Perhaps they can be replaced by some honest people, who should rightly fear the wrath of parents should they decide to continue Transgender Story Hour and Critical Race Theory.

It’s time to take the gloves off. Those who are still asleep after more than a year of mask wearing, social distancing, second waves, variants, and untested vaccines, are beyond help. Their indoctrination is so complete that it would probably be impossible to deprogram them, like they used to have to do with escaped Moonies. And we can’t underestimate the role human nature plays here. Those who have been fooled to such an embarrassing extent are never going to admit we were right. This psyop, and all others, are only possible because those pointing out the emperor is wearing no clothes can be successfully demonized in their eyes. They’ve taught the sheeple to hate “conspiracy theorists” as much as they’ve hated any of the foreign hobgoblins of the past.

A conspiracy in open sight isn’t possible with an informed public. If we’ve learned anything else by this point, it should be obvious that the majority of the American people are not informed. At all. They are instead misinformed. About everything. And, like many stupid individuals, they are collectively mistaken at the top of their lungs. They’re proud of their ignorance, which their masters have convinced them is wisdom. We are the stupid ones, believing in our dangerous “conspiracy theories.” Their self-confidence, as they regurgitate some nonsense they’ve heard on CNN, or in a Hollywood script, is astonishing. Facts don’t matter in Identity Politics. Everything is based on emotion, not reason.

If you have young children, confront your local school board. Start demanding that these hideous “public servants” be removed from their positions. Not only should they have no power to misuse, they should be banned from being within fifty yards of any school, like child sex abusers. Then let’s work up to the board of supervisors, then the mayors and the police chiefs. It may still be possible to take back control at those levels. Even the smallest local media outlets will be against any efforts like this, but we have to try. All other forms of resistance seem futile at this point, simply because we cannot get enough people to work together against our common enemy.

Humbly Suggesting “I Told You So”

Like most people, I hate hearing “I told you so.” South Park spoofed this brilliantly with its “Captain Hindsight” character. No one likes a Captain Hindsight. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that. But it’s long past the time when critical thinkers should start pointing out that, yes, we did tell you so. I’m proud to be “awake.” I know the truth is on my side. I’m not going to apologize for my beliefs. There are lots of you out there who should have listened.

As a young adult in the late ’70s, I concentrated my truth-telling mainly on the JFK assassination, which I was thoroughly obsessed with. Some friends seemed appreciative of my information, but very few dates did. This was long before you saw any female “conspiracy theorists.” Now, they’re everywhere. In fact, I always held back a respectable amount of time, before springing my views on anyone I was involved with romantically. They could be a deal breaker.

By the early ’80s, I was including more radical observations in my nonstop rants. Sports were fixed. Reagan really wasn’t cutting government, and was only cutting the taxes of the very wealthy. I talked a lot about how the government was covering up all the UFO sightings, especially the “close encounters.” Somewhere around this time, I started being interested in the far Right as well, and added things like the CFR, and the Bilderbergers to my platform. I also discussed a lot of things that would have been considered “anti-Semitic.” But in those days, we still had some semblance of free speech. I never once hesitated to speak my mind on the job. Or anywhere else.

I pretty much acted like I was running for Congress, but understood quite clearly that “they” would never have let someone like me win. I knew there was a “they” at a very young age. After decades of research, I still can’t say with certainty who “they” are. But they undeniably exist, and control all discourse. I began to accumulate avid followers. All male, usually younger, among my co-workers. They would defend me against mainstream naysayers, who outnumbered us then even more than they do now. My wife, who I was dating at the time, would needle me about being “worshiped” by them.

I had long been offering my perspective at family gatherings, which mostly elicited eye-rolling. As I’ve said many times, the only person in my family I’ve ever awakened is my son. My extended family members probably tolerated me for the lovable loser they thought I was. But once I began to get books published, and have some kind of platform to share what was basically the same radical stances they’d heard for many years, the eye-rolling stopped. The “big freeze,” to quote the great Barney Fife, was instituted. My books, my radio shows, my interviews, are the giant elephant in the room with my extended family now. The subject is literally never discussed.

In all those years, only one person ever contacted me to say, “hey, you were right!” When Oliver Stone’s JFK was released in 1991, an old friend from the ’70s called me up and said, “man, I remember you talking about all this stuff back then, when no one else was.” It was nice to hear. Telling someone “you were right,” which is essentially admitting they were wrong, is harder for most people than saying “I’m sorry.” And we all know how hard that is for some.

So, I’m going to crow a little bit now. Obviously, I was right about JFK, and MLK, and RFK. They were killed by powerful forces in our own government. Reagan didn’t cut government, and raised the taxes of most Americans. He also opened the door to the immigration disaster we must contend with now, with his inexcusably stupid amnesty in 1986. Bill Clinton was a monstrous criminal, an actual rapist who conspired nonstop, and left a Body Count behind that would have made any organized crime boss blush. As I pointed out incessantly at the time, our government murdered innocent men, women, and children at Waco. They were never held accountable, never apologized, and that paved the way for more criminal immorality.

A jury agreed with my assessment that Randy Weaver was the victim of a horrible injustice at Ruby Ridge, when our government killed his son and wife. Oklahoma City was not the work of patsy Timothy McVeigh, but a clear false flag designed to crush the burgeoning Third Party movement in America. 9/11 was so obviously an ‘”inside job” that there is no more point in debating it. How many times do we have to note that Building 7 was hit by no magical jet fuel cocktail? It’s like continuing to debate the single-bullet theory in the JFK assassination. You might as well try conversing about the reality of Santa Claus with a disturbed psychotic.

The Iraq “War” was just as I labeled it at the time; tantamount to Mike Tyson and some adult friends duking it out with a group of preschoolers. We committed untold atrocities, including burying surrendering forces alive, and found no “weapons of mass destruction.” And there is good reason to question everything about Barack Obama, the half-Black president raised entirely by White family members, including the place and circumstances of his birth.

I was one of the first voices with any platform at all to doubt that there was any “pandemic” in early 2020. I developed a much bigger following on Facebook because of my daily posts, which were chock full of information from official sources. Like good occultists, they have some kind of bizarre rule whereby they have to tell you what they’re doing. The fact that most people still won’t understand makes it a lot easier for them. Facebook eventually got around to shadow banning me, making my posts far less popular. But I was unquestionably right about everything I’ve written on this subject. COVID-19 cannot even be proven to exist, because they tell you there hasn’t been a test developed to isolate it. They tell you how they’ve lied about the numbers from the beginning.

Every time they’ve contradicted themselves, I’ve pointed it out. It’s very well documented. No “theory” at all. Masks weren’t needed. Then they were. Then they weren’t. Then double masks. Vaccines couldn’t be developed as quickly as Trump- self-proclaimed father of the “warp speed” killer- claimed they could. Then the vaccine became a Godsend that would let us “go back to normal.” The fact is, this vaccine has killed more people than all other vaccines combined since 1901. No thinking person should allow this poison into their body. By any standard, the “virus” is far less dangerous to all than this vaccine is. The “conspiracy theorists” told you this was “just a bad flu.” Now, they tell you the flu is gone. If you can think at all, you can add that up pretty easily.

I warned people, back in the 1970s, that we were headed down the wrong path. I read 1984 many times, and saw the clear signs of danger. The majority of the people allowed increasingly worse tyrants to be installed as leaders at all levels. Grumbled a bit about unfairness and unreasonableness, but no reforms were instituted. The tyrants became the literal monsters you see today, from school board officials, to mayors, to federal judges, to CEOs. There is no hope of anything ever getting better with this bunch in charge. But vey few listened to me. Unconstitutional roadblocks? No problem. Free speech zones? Sure, why not! Orwellian eye-scanners? Fine. Traffic light cameras? Bring it on!

By all measures, Americans had a completely different level of personal freedom 40 years ago than they do now. When I explain this to young people, they marvel, “wow- how did they let you do that?” And yet, without all those senseless, infringing, Boomer-inspired rules and regulations, everything ran much smoother. WWII veterans who drank whiskey on the job- and I knew many of them in my youth- were far more competent, and more reasonable, than the cold and sterile overlords supervising the Proles today. And the workers back then could smoke a joint before reporting for duty, and still be more productive than a regularly drug-tested employee is now.

We didn’t arrive at this sorry state of affairs by accident. I tried in vain to point out that Jefferson’s “long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism,” was playing out before our eyes, but the Sheeple remained asleep. Because of their massive stupidity, their children lost what was common for the “greatest generation;” decent private pensions, affordable healthcare, a living wage, protections under the Bill of Rights. As Ross Perot warned, they permitted enough “train of abuses” so that the next generation would be the first to have a lower standard of living than their parents. They passively watched the murder of the American Dream.

So, this is for all of you who snickered at me. Who scoffed, “that will never happen.” Who called me “crazy” and worse. My fellow “conspiracy theorists” and I were right about almost everything. We are no longer free. They have taken away our rights. Everything is a conspiracy when conspirators are in charge. We told you where we were headed, if you didn’t wake up. But you didn’t, and now we’re in Brave New World/1984 territory.

I may not get to say “I told you so” about some things. Telling the truth has become a revolutionary act, to quote Orwell. “Hate speech” is a political invention to limit free speech. There are two genders. Only women can have babies. Assassination is always wrong, because murder is always wrong. You don’t have the right to punch a “Nazi” or anyone else in the face. The dark side is completely in control now. They control the horizontal and the vertical, as they used to say on The Outer Limits. And so, those who haven’t gotten the maniacal memo will have to apologize for saying “woman” or “man,” or “boy” or “girl.” Blacks assaulting Asians is because of “White Supremacy.” Even the poorest Whites have a “privilege” that even the wealthiest Blacks don’t. History is written by the victors. We all know who the victors are.

So let me brag while I still can. Those FEMA camps are empty, and like many of us warned when they were created in the 1980s, they were built for somebody. I don’t want to be a political prisoner, like all those incarcerated for months in Washington, D.C., denied bail and subjected to solitary confinement and beatings. Julian Assange may be prosecuted, and Edward Snowden remains in exile. But Lori Lightfoot and Gretchen Whitmer have unchecked power, to terrorize their constituents. That ought to tell you all you need to know about the present state of the world.

I don’t mean to sound conceited. I didn’t foresee lots of things. Transgenderism destroying feminism. A “pandemic” that shut down the world. Inarticulate and improper English being celebrated as “Ebonics.” American officials openly boasting about killing people. Massive, in-your-face vote fraud, supplanting the more tactful dishonesty of previous elections. A billionaire reality TV star dividing the country. Statues being torn down, while the normally aggressive bullies with badges reacted like JFK’s Secret Service detail in Dallas.

But I did foresee the tyranny to come. You can’t allow official misconduct to go unpunished for that long, without enabling the authoritarian mindset we must contend with now. Laws mean nothing if they don’t apply equally to all. Obviously, they don’t apply equally here. Rules and standards of conduct also have to be the same across the board. They certainly aren’t in this country. Double standards and inconsistencies are everywhere.

Present-day America is the most corrupt nation in the history of the world. They can pound their chests about how we’re the “best,” and chant “USA! USA!” as loud as they want, but that doesn’t change reality. Some of us saw this coming, and told you so repeatedly. You didn’t listen. You made fun of us. And now, here we are. On the verge of implementing measures even Orwell never dreamed of. I won’t stick out my tongue. But I told you so.

The American Loneliness Phenomenon

Polls tell us that 27 percent of Americans aged 60 or older live by themselves, more than anywhere else in the world. Older people in other countries, on the other hand, most often live with an extended family, as was once common here. Even older married couples tend to live without anyone else; more childless married couples, or those without children at home, live in the United States than the rest of the world. We’re number one! USA! USA!

I’ve been thinking about what is a very real epidemic of loneliness, especially in America. Rugged individualism gone wild. A lot of this is due to the unfortunate prevalence of dysfunctional immediate and extended families. I know very few families where there isn’t an often inexplicable dispute between parents and children, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, or cousins. Many of the lonely I have known personally have been in this situation. Rejected by their parents, or having rejected them. Not talking to a sibling or sibling for years, even decades. Ostracized from their children or grandchildren. Facing the sad prospects of old age alone. Is this what anyone really wants?

Sociologist Eric Klinenberg’s new book, Going Solo: The Extraordinary Rise and Surprising Appeal of Living Alone documents the emerging “singleton” demographic, which he calls the “biggest unnamed social change of the last 50 years.” While Klinenberg tries to spin this optimistically, I consider it an anti-human, anti-culture tragedy of the highest magnitude. We often hear a lot of rhetoric, especially from conservatives, about “family.” But in reality, America rejected traditional family values many decades ago. The explosion of nursing homes in the last half of the twentieth century alone is testament to that.

While there are no doubt some hale and hearty exceptions to the rule; frontier-like throwbacks, I think most people who live alone do so involuntarily. Males, especially, are prone to the loneliness phenomenon. I have known many, and still know many. By and large, these males are alone because they couldn’t attract a mate. Again, there are exceptions, but in the vast majority of these cases, the male wasn’t being overly picky. The women were. If things are bad now, just wait until all the Incels out there start aging. Maybe they can program the sex dolls to engage in some kind of meaningful conversations.

I’ve known lonely women, too, but that is far more rare. Mostly, lonely women are either incredibly eccentric or mentally ill. And not attractive enough to compensate for that. Men will tolerate a whole lot of quirkiness if a female is good looking. In reality, almost all women can find somebody. Males are not renowned for being choosy, as mothers used to be about Jif peanut butter, according to the advertisers.

The statistics tell a sobering story. In 1950, 22 percent of American adults were single, accounting for 9 percent of all households. Today, more than 50 percent of American adults are single; about one out of every seven live alone. They comprise 28 percent of all households. For the elderly, the difference between America and the rest of the world is stark. While 2/3 or more of older people in countries like Iraq and India live with younger family members, only 6 percent of Americans do. Thanks to cultural drift, powered to a great extent by nonstop media and “educational” propaganda, most American children and grandchildren reflexively put Grandma and Grandpa in what everyone- even they- recognize are monstrous, expensive facilities where they will be mistreated. And have their fortunes depleted.

You know the brainwashing has been effective when children are willing to lose their financial legacy, just for the convenience of not having to take care of those who changed their diapers, fed and clothed them, and taught them all they needed to know. Money usually talks. But not in the case of our elderly, who are treated abominably in this country. In the Asian world, in Africa, in the Middle East- basically all the nonwhite cultures- elders are given the greatest respect by all. I remember being in a Korean friend’s home a few decades back, and watching how all the females in the home- and it was a very un-American like extended household of children and their spouses- waited on him, as the patriarch of the manor, like he was royalty.

Americans don’t refer to their older members of the population as “elders.” But we do get all those cool senior citizen discounts. Isn’t that enough? Sure, there are a lot of older people who have accumulated years, but learned very little. They can certainly be as ignorant as those younger than them. But the concept of honoring age is, I think, a good one. It doesn’t have to be a mindless tribute, but older people ought to be accorded what used to be called “respect for your elders.” I can’t think of anything sadder than the elderly, some still coherent enough to feel loneliness, bored beyond measure in their tiny rest home room, waiting in vain for a loved one to visit. This has been sadly exacerbated over the past year, of course, thanks to the absurd, unconstitutional COVID restrictions.

I have known people who, because they died alone, weren’t discovered for several days. “Wellness checks” are another aspect of the “new normal” that we all know and love in America 2.0. A close friend who undoubtedly would have been in such a situation had, I guess you’d call it the good fortune, to drop dead at a restaurant one morning in 2016. Otherwise, it would have been me calling the police to check on him, after not hearing from him for a few days. Like too many, he had several siblings. I saw how little they cared about him at the memorial service, as they kept furtively checking their watches. Like so many other lonely people, he deserved a better fate.

We are all social creatures. Yes, there are the outlier true loners, who prefer no other company. But almost all of us like to have someone around; to talk to, to hug, to advise and take advice from. You don’t find loners in the animal kingdom. If we can’t count on our blood relatives to love us enough to at least check up regularly on us, then what can we count on? Some of those I know who live alone have been cast aside by “religious” parents, who go to a nondenominational church regularly. Love your enemy? No one does that, least of all the very devout. Love your neighbor? No, but call the police if their car has expired license tags. Love your children? I guess not, in some cases.

Maybe I care so much about the subject because I hate being alone. I fear being left alone. I don’t think my children would ever abandon me, but maybe other parents didn’t think so, either. The Clint Eastwood movie Gran Torino powerfully exposed what is an all too common dynamic in modern American families. I guess if they could get most American women to see babies as impersonal “fetuses” that have no rights, they can demonize the elderly. Remember all those TV shows and movies where the adult man or woman is distraught over an upcoming visit from their parent/s. It’s depicted as a traumatizing event, not as a welcoming reunion with your closest loved ones.

We are often coldly reminded that we go out of this world the same way we came in- alone, and with nothing. I wish all the Americans utterly devoted to adopting rescue dogs and cats could save a bit of that empathy and compassion for their parents, or children, or siblings, or grandparents, or lonely aunts and uncles. If you can’t stand to visit a lonely loved one in person, or even give them a weekly phone call, at least buy them a life alert, or make sure they have a cell phone. Sometimes, they don’t die from heart attacks. Or broken hearts. They can easily fall, and not be able to summon help in time. Didn’t we all watch the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” commercial?

Charity begins at home, says the wise but oft-ignored old adage. America does the opposite, whether it’s a foreign policy giving aid to other countries instead of our own needy citizens, or individuals opting to donate to soulless charities that use most of the contributions for overhead expenses, or rescuing animals, rather than taking in a loved one who’s all alone in the world. Or even interact regularly with them. No free healthcare for even the poorest Americans, but illegal immigrants pay no medical expenses. Your money’s no good here, amigo! Our horrendous government has put the interests of average Americans last for a long time. Why, though, do so many individual Americans put their own loved ones last?

All the lonely people out there, like all the homeless ones, have a story to tell. How they wound up lonely. How they ended up being homeless. I don’t think very many choose to be alone. The relatives who neglect them, however, do choose to do so. I have so many friends on social media who are alone. I’ve spoken to some on the phone. One of them recently vanished from Facebook, and I’ve lost her number. I worry about her. I hope her family cares enough to check on her. I chat and text with other lonely people I’ve never met. So many are starving for attention. And affection. Maybe I’ll start a Lonely Hearts chat service. While some lonely people are understandably suicidal, not all are. We have suicide prevention hotlines. Why not loneliness prevention hotlines?

If you have a relative living alone, call them. Better yet, go see them in person. Bring them some carryout, or preferably a home cooked meal. The Incels need sex. The lonely need companionship. A pat on the back. An assurance that they haven’t been forgotten. Giving is better than receiving. Helping others can be incredibly rewarding. As someone once said, the best deeds are those that can never be repaid. Do onto others.

Everybody’s in Show Biz

One of the most memorable passages in English literature comes from Shakespeare’s As You Like It:

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts….”

The Kinks notably sang, “Everybody’s a Star.” One of the most intriguing films ever made, 1998’s The Truman Show, carried this idea to its logical conclusion. I have been haunted by this ever since, and played around with the concept in my unpublished novel The Simulators, which I think is the best thing I’ve ever written. We probably all have thought, at one time or another, that we’re being pranked here. And they’re all in on it.

I’ve had the pleasure of communicating with many older entertainers over the past few years, while researching my upcoming book On Borrowed Fame: Money, Mysteries, and Corruption in the Entertainment World. Most of them have been nicer than I would have expected. The underlying premise of the book is that fame has a very short life span for almost all who attain it. Maybe they were arrogant and nasty when they were A-listers. No present A-lister is going to answer my inquiries.

I can relate to all the musicians I communicated with, who sold millions of records and usually received few if any royalties, every time I look at my own royalty statements. The artist, the creator of any work of art gets only a fraction of the money that those who sell it get. I would have to sell hundreds of thousands of copies of each book to become wealthy from them. Needless to say, I have a ways to go to reach those figures. So start buying! And telling others.

Most musicians play because they love it. Most actors act because they love it. Most writers, like me, write because we love it. A small percentage of musical artists, and actors, and writers, become very rich. But the vast majority don’t. The size of the stage, or the reach of the platform, varies greatly. But like Bela Lugosi memorably put in the same high level performance even when he was starring in ridiculous Ed Wood productions, most artists try their best, even if the club is nearly empty, and the pay is laughable. I know that’s the way I approach every show I do; I assume millions are tuning in, even when I know the audience is small.

Each of our lives call for those “many parts” Shakespeare referred to. We are children, and teenagers, young adults, middle-aged, and elderly (if we make it that far). Most of us “play the parts” of sibling, aunt or uncle, parent and grandparent. We grieve when it’s appropriate, and celebrate when we should. Sometimes, the tears and laughter are forced or staged. We feign cordiality, and talk behind others’ backs. “The most acceptable form of hypocrisy,” Ambrose Bierce called it.

When someone asks us “does this make me look fat,” do we answer honestly? Usually not, since the person asking the question knows they are fat and is looking for validation. We lie- we act– to make them feel better. If a friend bakes us something, and wants to know “if it tastes alright,” do we ever tell them, “well, no it doesn’t- I can’t eat this?” But that kind of acting is part of civility, and hardly nefarious.

More often, people use subterfuge to get what they want. I stopped lending money to friends when I was very young. A buddy of mine took my $75, got his guitar out of hock and fled to Florida. I never heard from him again. What kind of moral compass do you have to end a friendship over $75? A girl I cared deeply about was always struggling financially. I lent her $500 so she could buy a junky used car (this was the mid-1970s). She paid me maybe $100 or so, then moved away. I tried to contact her without success. She was one of the nicest people I ever met. That was a really disillusioning experience. How many other friends are simply acting like they care about us?

I discovered, after being fired so unfairly three years ago, that I really didn’t have any friends at the place I’d worked for my entire adult life- forty four years. Those we work with, like those we went to school with, invariably drift apart. They seem like friends, and often we socialize with them like friends, but once the work or school connection is severed, so is the friendship. People I shared the most intimate details of my life with, and who shared theirs with me, never even called me after I was fired. I was replaced, as so many others have been replaced, by someone else who became their “friend.” I contend that this all requires some kind of acting ability.

Someday I may write a book about the epidemic of dysfunction in American families. I know of countless tragic examples. Caused by irrational pride and petty slights. So many parents estranged from their children. Siblings who become strangers. Isn’t there a biological bond there, a love that shouldn’t be so easily shattered? Did they really never care for each other? Were they, too, just acting?

Does any politician speak without acting? They are never genuine, and are essentially reading scripts. Every parent conspires, in a worldwide long running production, to pretend that Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy exist, to make their children happy. That certainly contributes to the magic of childhood, but makes for a rude awakening eventually. It’s a wonder more youngsters don’t feel betrayed.

In the world I cover most often, leaders at all levels engage in histrionics to sell false narratives to the public. Oswald killed JFK. Crazed Arabs did 9/11. In the Beginning, there was this giant ball. White Supremacy is our greatest threat. COVID-19 is a deadly pandemic. It takes tremendous acting ability to sell those narratives. And lack of conscience. They are essentially in full Santa Claus/Easter Bunny mode 24/7. Maybe that is hard work.

Those who misrule us subject us to the most laughable inversions of reality imaginable. These are most often promulgated in the putrid products from Hollywood. White street criminals rule all the big cities. Half of all relationships are interracial. Transgenders are a huge, powerful section of the population. Upward mobility exists. Any female can easily beat up any male. We have to send our youth to far flung parts of the world to “fight for freedom.” Trust the “science.” And the “experts.” Race is a social construct, but nonwhites- especially Blacks- are “special” constructs. All positive stereotypes apply to them. Free speech doesn’t cover “hate speech.”

The Greek philosopher Diogenes is still remembered- by the small portion of the public that isn’t historically illiterate- as searching for an honest man. Diogenes- a classic Thespian- garnered attention by walking around in daylight holding a lantern. Naturally, this attracted attention, and he replied to any inquiries by declaring he was looking for an honest man. Nice gimmick. Still being talked about over two thousand years later.

Mark Twain reminded us that truth is stranger than fiction. But what are we being ruled by, if not fiction? Fairy tales of lone nut assassins, false flags, broken promises, incomprehensible and preposterous theories and dictates, double standards, injustice, unfairness, sanitized McHistory, etc. Only duplicitous and two-faced people can sell such whoppers. Peddling such conventional “wisdom” must be harder than the work that has made telemarketers so beloved. The business world is rule by actors, trying to convince the public that their identically priced product is better than the “competition.” Pay extra for our extended warranty! Get your “free” trial- pay only shipping and handling!

Those running this mess- doing the hand’s on work of keeping the lies and coverups going- are the poor players Shakespeare again wrote about, that “struts and frets his hour upon the stage.” The puppet masters at the top don’t have to engage in theatrics themselves. But they’re in charge of the production. They choose the directors, and script writers, and lead actors. But it doesn’t take much acting skill to fool the world’s audience. They will applaud and hiss on cue. They’ve been buying the product being sold for a very long time. They aren’t about to boycott any part of it. Their masks, and social distancing, and double vaccines, demonstrate this better than anything else ever has.

What does it say about human nature that so many people, in retail, in sales, and elsewhere, have to pretend- to act- in order to be cordial? Are they that messed up? Or are too any of those they have to deal with messed up? We’ve become so cynical that when someone offers to do something nice, our alarm meter goes off. What’s his motivation? Isn’t that what the method actors used to say? Surely, he must want something in return. Everybody wants something. I believe that’s one of the reasons Tim Tebow is despised by so many. What a goody two-shoes! Nobody is that nice. He must really be a monster in private.

What does a practitioner of the world’s oldest profession do other than act? Pretending to be aroused. Pretending while being intimate. How many women in divorce cases chide their ex-husbands with, “I was always acting” in terms of just how sexually pleased she’d been with him? How many have long-running affairs and manage to conceal them with Academy Award-level deception? How many men tell their conquests, “Of course I love you, baby,” and then never call them back? How many women tell the hapless inhabitants of the “friend zone” that they aren’t looking for loose sex, while hooking up repeatedly in private with the lucky guys the Incels call Chads?

Read the fine print on every contract. Those pressuring you to sign them are often not acting in your best interests. But they are acting. Acting is, when you come down to it, a form of dishonesty. Pretending to be something you aren’t. Most salespersons do that every day. Like a good neighbor, you’re in good hands. Offer a warranty that the company will find some reason not to honor. Guarantees that are another misleading part of the production.

Some of the greatest professional actors had unknowable personalities. What was Lon Chaney really like? Jack Nicholson? Johnny Depp? When you play so many different characters, your real persona gets lost in the shuffle. I’m told that Depp is among those actors that often “stays in character” in private life. Bela Lugosi was buried in his Dracula cape, Colonel Sanders in his distinctive white suit. Frank Sinatra took his beloved Jack Daniels and Camel cigarettes into the Great Beyond with him. I suppose sometimes you can take it with you. How does an actor fall in love in real life, when they’ve done so many scripted romantic scenes with others paid to pretend to care for them?

In recent years, the alternative media did a great job of convincing many that widely reported events could be hoaxes. With crisis actors. Who most assuredly do exist. I recounted many examples of staged shooter incidents at schools, in my book Bullyocracy. Crisis actors are admittedly hired for these deviant events, complete with fake blood. Just like the “conspiracy theorists” speculate regarding Sandy Hook, the Boston Bombing, and so many other events. Once you watch enough of the witnesses to these purported tragedies, you recognize very little predictable or believable responses. You do, however, see all the earmarks of acting. Crisis acting.

I realize that most of us have a little larceny in our hearts. I don’t blindly trust many people. But I don’t automatically mistrust them, either. I do, however, bear in mind that on this world stage, we are merely players. Acting, to varying degrees, every day of our lives. Loving and hating, but mostly in a measured way, weighing the vagaries of the story of our lives against real and contrived emotion. Is it live or Memorex? Are we recording? That’s a wrap!

Am I the only one that, keeping The Truman Show in mind, half suspects that there are props and staging going on all around us? That unseen directors manipulate events, even in individual lives? That perhaps some of our closest contacts could be acting in their own interests, or at the behest of others? I guess I’ve watched Invasion of the Body Snatchers too many times. Everyone has acting ability. All the world’s a stage.

To Bitch or Not to Bitch

I take things too personally. I admit it. My persecution complex is very real and deep seated. We are the sum products of our upbringing, education, and influences. As an elementary and middle school aged child, I was obese before it was fashionable. Picture Eric Cartman- that’s basically what I looked like. It pains me to admit I had a bit of his snarky attitude as well. My biting young wit probably prevented me from being regularly bullied.

By the time I entered fifth grade, there was no hiding the fact I was much larger than the other kids. To my horror, I realized what this meant in terms of other kids liking me. One of my best friends just started ignoring me and said we weren’t friends any longer. Another kid who lived near me, someone I’d played with often, again just told me in no uncertain terms to leave him alone. They didn’t even want to talk to me. Just because I was fat. While that wasn’t really garden variety bullying, it hurt tremendously and left emotional scars. There is no doubt that being an overweight child was one of the influences for my book Bullyocracy.

Two incidents from my childhood formed this persecution complex within me. As an armchair psychologist, I recognize this clearly now. When I was eleven, I was an exceptional baseball player. Especially considering my ridiculously overweight body. I won the Little League batting title, and in one of the true highlights of my life, got the game winning hit in the championship game. The other kids tried to carry me off the field, but I was too fat. No one from my family was there to see it, adding to my baggage, and there wasn’t much reaction when I told them. Still, it was glorious to experience something like that. Most people never do.

At the awards banquet after that season, when they were handing out individual championship trophies, the coach (a stern, military officer, like all my childhood coaches) made a brief speech about each player. When it came to me, this guy didn’t mention my hit that won the championship. He didn’t mention my winning the batting title. He glossed over my pitching- which he stopped me from doing after the opposing teams and too many parents snickered and made comments about my weight. Apparently this negative attention was more important than the fact I was pretty dominant on the mound, too, and won him the few games he let me pitch.

This coach, in fact, treated me like a player at the end of the roster- the kind that participation rules require you to play at least three innings every game. The kind they hide in right field. He made some generic comments that could have applied to any random player, and I tried not to show my disappointment. And this coach put the cherry on top by not naming me to the All Star team. I lost a lot of my enthusiasm for baseball after that.

A few years later, when I was in eighth grade, and at my obese peak (5’1 and 175 pounds), I still had the self-confidence to try out for the Middle School basketball team. I wanted to be a Rimrocker more than anything. They held an open tryout, and again despite my laughable appearance, I dominated the scrimmage game. Every shot I flung up (and yes, I was a bit of a gunner) went in, and I scored more points than any other kid- it wasn’t even close. I even stole the ball a few times and waddled in for layups. The other players went from giggling and mocking to astonishment. A few even patted me on the back in acknowledgement of my performance.

At the end of tryouts, the P.E. teacher/coach called out twelve names. Mine was one of them. It felt surreal to walk up and get the papers from him for my parents to sign. Many of the kids congratulated me. This was on a Friday. I told my family, but again there was little reaction. But I was on cloud nine all weekend long. That Saturday, one of the most popular kids in the school rode his bike over to my house to hang out with me. It was beginning to dawn on me that this was going to change my life. I couldn’t wait for school on Monday, to receive more kudos from my peers.

But early Monday morning, the coach called me into his office. He avoided looking me in the eye as he confessed that he’d made a “mistake.” He’d actually meant to call out another boy, who had a similar last name. I knew this was absurd. He saw me walk up- and I definitely didn’t look like that kid or anyone else there- and handed me the papers. But what could I say or do? I was crushed. It was like the prettiest girl in school breaking a prom date as you pull up to her house in the limousine. It wasn’t hard to tell my family- again, there wasn’t much of a reaction. But everyone in the school knew. At least I wasn’t teased about it. I think even they knew there was something very wrong about this.

I still process these two events in my mind, which is probably counterproductive. Did someone tell the coach he couldn’t let an obese kid on the team? Did they realize they didn’t have a uniform that big? Did he fear that I would be the butt of too much cruel taunting, much as had been the case in Little League Baseball, and that this would negatively impact the team? Ultimately, it was inexplicable, but it ignited my sensitivities like never before.

The therapists tell people like me, “you’re talking things personally, and the truth is others are just not thinking of you.” That may be the case, but once it becomes ingrained in your mind, you start to notice everything. You compare how others are treated. You develop a complex. Fortunately, my immense self-confidence offsets the persecution complex somewhat. But your spidey sense goes off way too easily. When my kids were young, I started noticing perceived slights that they were subjected to. I had transferred my persecution complex onto them. I never made it much of an issue, though, because I didn’t want to embarrass them. So I just let it fester.

I achieved my greatest career goal in 2007, when I first became a published author. Not many people reach that kind of goal, and I am very grateful for it. But it opened up a whole new area for my persecution complex to wander around in. I haven’t had many negative reviews, so that wasn’t really an issue. Instead, as my notoriety grew in our niched conspiracy world, I began noticing the jockeying for position, and the juvenile hierarchal games being played. We are all big fish to varying degrees, in a pretty small pond. I don’t kid myself that anyone outside the world of alternative media knows who I am. Many inside the alternative media don’t know who I am. I’m not delusional.

Despite the unexpected success of my first nonfiction book, Hidden History, I have had to accept the fact that the most logical readership base for it- the JFK assassination research community- has largely ignored it. Several of these people- whom I’ve known in a cyber sense for many years- have deleted me on Facebook because of my COVID and/or Trump posts. When you suffer from a persecution complex, this really stings. You feel a real sense of rejection. Some of them were people who raved about my posts on JFK forums, or who interviewed me on their shows. But at least I can rationalize the JFK people, because most do not share my views on other subjects.

It’s the people who I seem to be in lockstep agreement with about most everything, that nevertheless don’t invite me back on their shows (after raving on air about how fabulous I am, and how they have to have me back for multiple appearances), that really baffle me. That just triggers my persecution complex. Or guests I’ve had on my radio show, sometimes more than once, who simply don’t answer my emails, tweets, or Facebook messages any more.

And so I wonder now, as I wondered then; what did I do? Why do people that agree with me on the issues, and who seemed to love me, stop communicating with me? With no explanation? I don’t expect people to be as anal as I am about answering emails, or liking Facebook posts. Few are as prompt in this regard as my wonderful friend John Barbour. But I don’t get never getting an answer at all. Is it entirely my persecution complex at play here, that is offended? Isn’t it rude not to respond to interview requests, or when someone sends you an autographed book? Are most people just clueless, or uncaring? Are the therapists right- they aren’t thinking of me?

I have stopped posting on Facebook, except to promote interviews or my writing. I have the maximum amount of 5000 friends, and 95 percent of them wanted to be connected to me. They sent me friend requests. Many included a note about my book or books, or blog, or interviews, telling me how great I am. But then almost all of these people disappear into a black hole on my page. No likes or comments. Ever. So why did they want to be hooked up with me in the first place? Whether I am being shadow banned, or these alleged fans just have no more interest in what I have to say, it is tiresome to get so few responses. And again, the persecution complex kicks in, and I compare myself with others on Facebook, and Twitter, whose standing in the conspiracy world is no higher than mine, and can’t help but see how much more support they get.

I am fully aware of how uncivil Americans have become in general. I guess parents stopped teaching their children to say “thank you” when appropriate. My wife and I would always be shocked at how few people bothered to RSVP to a birthday party or whatever. These were educated, middle-class people. Perhaps I have unrealistic expectations. Maybe manners are another relic from America 1.0. Is what I perceive as a personal slight just symptomatic of the general deterioration in society of empathy and politeness? Even among my “awake” comrades?

I’ve resorted to begging here, on Facebook and Twitter, on my radio show. Asking people who’ve told me how much they loved one or all of my books to please give it a good rating on Goodreads and Amazon. Since almost none of them appear willing to take the 30 seconds or so to do this, it seems highly unlikely that they’d bother contributing financially via PayPal. Others doing the exact same thing I am, and in most cases not doing as much, are getting people to contribute to their PayPals, or Patreon, or whatever accounts. I’m living out my dream as a full-time writer, but the pay is akin to working at McDonald’s. They tell me I have to mention this more, but it feels uncomfortable, and I’m obviously not very good at it. For the record, my PayPal is authorjeffries@gmail.com.

I understand why I relate so well to Woody Allen. I basically have many personality characteristics of a neurotic Jew. Constantly judging how others are looking at me, questioning their motives. Narcissistically obsessing how things are impacting me. If I could afford it, I’d be talking to a therapist every day. Not that I’d listen to their advice, or even respect them, mind you. But I need a sounding board, like Allen, Howard Stern, and other self-absorbed celebrities who can pay for one. My ego has been stroked enough to make it swell. I can’t imagine living with an ego the size of famous actors, athletes, or rock stars. No wonder so many of them act the way they do.

But the most difficult thing I’ve had to adjust to as each subsequent book has been released, and I’ve been invited on various media platforms, or communicated with true celebrities, is the total disinterest from almost all of my very large family. Almost every day, people from all over the world contact me, and tell me how much they loved one or more of my books, or my radio show. My family members don’t even acknowledge I have books or a radio show. I stopped talking about them at all at family gatherings. Well, when there were family gatherings. Like so many others I’ve talked to, I’ve had no influence whatsoever on my relatives. Almost every one buys into the pandemic/lockdown/vaccine narrative. They know I won’t get vaxxed, and it’s possible I’ll never see them again because of that.

I came from odd family circumstances. My oldest sister was already a mother when I was born; she is nineteen years my elder. I didn’t really meet her until I was fourteen. My mother had me at age forty six, which would be like sixty six now. I was so much younger than my three siblings that I felt like an only child growing up. My parents were more like my grandparents. My mother thought everything I did was great, so praise from her didn’t mean as much. My father never praised me for anything. When I went on a crash diet between eighth and ninth grades, and lost forty pounds, no one in my family noticed. Literally. I went from Eric Cartman to being a pretty good looking high school freshman. Yet no one recognized this for the accomplishment it was; instead, I was treated the same.

So perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me that my relatives pretty much ignore my late blooming writing career. Apparently, they couldn’t even summon up a congratulations when I totally transformed my appearance as a teenager. Maybe I have a crappy family, I don’t know. Or perhaps that persecution complex kicked in then, and is still being triggered. I think I have lauded my loved ones when it’s been appropriate, but they could see things differently.

I hope this doesn’t sound like I’m indulging in self-pity. My problems are all “first world.” It’s ridiculous for me to complain about them. But I still do. One of the benefits of being a writer is engaging in self-exploration. I have a hyper critical personality. As my loved ones advise me, “give people a break.” But at least I can turn that critical eye on myself. I know my flaws better than anyone. My persecution complex is perhaps my biggest weakness.

I didn’t intend to bore readers with my personal baggage. I could elaborate on my antipathy for the rich, which was triggered at age seven by a monstrous injustice inflicted upon my teenage brother by the daughter of a powerful military General. That incident occurred on the same day JFK was assassinated. Talk about a double whammy psychologically! Two of the most significant events in my life, as it turned out.

It’s cathartic to explore these things. To understand where something originated, even though it seems impossible to combat. I am very appreciative of, and emboldened by, all the kind words of encouragement I regularly receive. We are all imperfect. And fragile enough to be stung by “the slings and arrows” of neglect or criticism. Rest assured that I am thankful for each and every one of you who take the time to read what I write or listen to what I have to say.