86 the Boogeymen

Or… Why Can’t we be FRIENDS?

And now, another desperate yawp from my perch atop a high rise bar-stool in the Texas A&M “Tejas Lounge”. Not really a bar… more like a living room in a co-ed dorm… people saunter to and fro. Holiday lights are hung by student workers piloting mobile telescoping scaffolds that make that garbage truck reverse warning BEEP BEEP BEEP whenever moved. Now, that sound is somewhat annoying, but nothing bothers me… i’ve raised boys… and if you know… you know. After that, NOTHING in the way of annoying sounds can break my concentration.

Anyway… i’ve been meaning to compose a piece aimed at one of the many things that keeps my beloved loopers at each other’s metaphorical throats. And yeah, some of them are prone to discuss the possibility of moving from bellicose words in the social chat threads to destructive action in the real world. My hunch is much of that talk is just that, empty posturing… just words. But i also believe there are loopers out there that would spring into action if they thought the “boogaloo” was actually on. This is a bothersome thought, but i was raised in an era where, at any moment, we could be coping with the chaos of city-obliterating nuclear exchanges. After surviving the Cold War, a few deluded psychopaths with guns and terminal bloodlust isn’t really that scary. In fact, these poor creatures desperate for validation are kind of pathetic, and i can’t help feeling sorry for them. Now, this is not a political statement. I know loopers on both sides of the artificial divide who take pride in their gun handling skills and unabashed hostility regarding political “enemies”.

So… today, i’d like to take a stab at defanging the ideological “boogeymen” cited in weak justifications for contemplating the murder of neighbors, acquaintances, or participants in distant social unrest (looking at you, Mr. Rittenhouse). Now, to be clear, distrust, and ill-will is clearly coming from the very top of our political hierarchy. From the right, the smoldering embers of racist fear and loathing leveraged to the maximus surpacity, with some success as politicians take steps to rid the nation of anyone not in possession of certified proof of citizenship. On the left, we have protesters warning of some sort of impending fascist coup, aimed at eliminating the democratic ship of state, among other issues. For one, the documented fact that law enforcement officials are far more likely to perceive bodily threat to the point of deploying lethal force when the threat is a person of color. This all came to a head with the death of George Floyd, and it led to a “summer of racial reckoning” leaving quite a bit of property damage in its wake.

Then came the #metoo and #blacklivesmatter movements infuriating those wishing to preserve what’s left of a patriarchal power structure favoring white dudes over people of color, but especially women, let alone women of color. So, imagine the seething fury of one of these “rugged individualist” alpha male types trying to cope with the likes of a Michelle Obama, Kamala Harris, Jasmine Crocket. Right? So many social media keyboards are coated with spittle flecks coming from the rabid foaming mouth of an alt-right edge lord, putting those uppity folk who have clearly forgotten their place in their rightful cages.

All must be “made great again”.

And so… both sides get on their favorite hobby horses with their metaphorical spears and magic helmets to slay the forces of their chosen ideological boogeymen. For those on the left, the boogeyman is turning the U.S.A. toward an ethnonationalist “fascism” similar to the one that infected Western Europe in the wake of the great depression. For the right the boogeyman is the Marxist camel trying to get its nose into their sacred Constitutional Republic’s tent. Because, you know socialism ALWAYS leads to injustice and mass atrocities… everybody knows, right? Besides, the camel stinks and makes funny noises.

So, shall we now pour some cold water on this dichotomy? Let’s open a few historical cautionary tales starting to look familiar as current events unfold. Starting from the left… the most egregious examples of regimes widely described as authoritarian socialist ruling as single-party states include the Soviet Union (especially under Stalin), the People’s Republic of China (especially under Mao), North Korea, and the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia.

In Stalinist U.S.S.R., there was a rapid, forced buildup of industrial capacity and collectivized agriculture. These efforts to strengthen the nation, unfortunately, contributed to mass starvation, most notably some areas of Ukraine. It also featured extensive political repression, including the Great Purge, a campaign of surveillance, mass arrests, and executions of perceived enemies of the state, with many sent to Gulag concentration camps.

In China, Under the leadership of Mao Zedong, extreme social and economic upheaval featuring a similar push for societal change, including the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution led to widespread famine, social chaos, persecution of the educated classes, and millions of deaths. The Chinese Communist Party has maintained a single-party, authoritarian system since taking power, which is considered highly repressive of dissent and civil liberties (see Tiananmen Square massacre).

Today, countries like China, Cuba, North Korea, Laos, and Vietnam are considered by many observers to be authoritarian states with ruling communist parties that exercise significant control over the economy and suppress political opposition. Loopers conflating U.S. socialist public policy (Social Security, Medicare, ACA, etc. ) with the abovementioned authoritarian communist examples, unfairly brand Democratic politicians with a scarlet “S”. But this is understandable considering the “conservative” mindset of eternal vigilance against the constant threat of “barbarians” outside their doors… they truly fear their Boogeymen.

Now, from the right, the most egregious examples of authoritarian fascism in history are considered to be Nazi Germany under Adolf Hitler, Fascist Italy under Benito Mussolini, and the Empire of Japan during the 1930s and 40s.

Nazi Germany is widely regarded as the most extreme and devastating example due to its systematic use of genocide and state terror. And though there’s really no need to belabor decades of History Channel cautionary tales, it’s important to note Nazism was based on a pseudo-scientific theory of racial hierarchy, promoting the idea of an “Aryan master race” and identifying Jews and other minorities as scapegoats for Germany’s problems. Their Atrocities include the well documented systematic, state-sponsored genocide of millions, including Romas, people with disabilities, political opponents, and roughly six million Jews in concentration and extermination camps.

And then there’s Il Duce. Mussolini’s fascism emphasized extreme nationalism, the glorification of war, and a corporatist economic model designed to suppress labor movements and consolidate state power. The regime utilized black-shirted paramilitary forces to dismantle free speech, intimidate and murder political opponents. It later passed antisemitic racial laws and cooperated with Nazi Germany during the Holocaust.

And rounding out the WWII Axis Alliance was Imperial Japan who’s military committed widespread atrocities, including mass murder and human rights violations considered on the same level as the European genocides. The ideology centered on emperor-worship, extreme nationalism, and the concept of a “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere” to justify military conquest and imperial rule across Asia.

And let’s not overlook the Balkans and Spain. The Independent State of Croatia under Ante Pavelić‘s Ustaše regime committed some of history’s worst atrocities and advocated for a “Greater Croatia” at the expense of Serbs. And Francisco Franco‘s long-lasting Spanish military dictatorship, while not a pure fascist regime, absorbed many elements of the Falange fascist movement and implemented mass arrests and human rights violations.

Sam Clemons put it best. History may not repeat by rote, but very often rhymes with current events (see above… astonishing deja vous bars). And we’ve already mentioned how, with just about every attempt to build and maintain government run enterprise under the heading of “serving the people” in matters too big for private enterprise to manage without coordinated planning, the political left is branded with the Scarlet “S”. But now, with the right, loopers who have determined government run enterprise inferior to the invisible hand of market forces, have been hoping for a chance to “drown the U.S. federal government in the tub” after shrinking it down to a drownable size. These loopers are now in power, and the tactics they have employed look a lot like authoritarian fascism.

But, here’s the deal. Democratic leadership has yet to employ the authoritarian communist policies conservatives fear (Jade Helm, gun confiscation, etc.), and, so far, the right has not begun rounding up undesirables for mass extermination (that we know of). And they haven’t yet succeeded in overturning U.S. democracy in favor of an all powerful executive with a lifetime appointment (yet). They do make these kind of noises in the form of online trolling (Bannon’s “flood the zone” strategy), but getting their political opponents riled up is most of the point. Worst-case scenarios are most likely not part of the plan (call me overoptimistic, i’ve heard worse).

Bottom line, neither of these political boogeymen are anything more than red herrings, mirages meant to keep their respective bases outraged enough to make sure to vote when the time comes. So, if we can take a couple steps back from the outrage machines, acknowledge both sides have good and bad ideas. And since neither side will be free to put members of the other in ovens, it behooves us to get back to reasoned debate. Stop demonizing the “other” and look for ways for all of us to work together, identify common concerns, and draft policies that can accomplish agreed upon goals.

And with all of that said… seriously, the left is not going to “Cultural Revolution” the right out of existence, and the right is not going to march undesirables into ovens. OK? Ok! So, let’s now address the elephant in the room… let’s talk about religion. As much as i’d love to avoid the topic altogether, it’s unavoidable. We have at least two, maybe three supreme court jurists identifying with a sect of Christianity that is actively working toward a power structure placing apocalyptic Christians in total governmental primacy. They are literally working on ways to delete secular, pluralistic governance in favor of an ethno-nationalist monarchy. Do i believe they will succeed?? Hell… to the no! But the fact that this is in the works, and they’ve managed to capture the White House, the Speaker of the House and at least two SCOTUS justices is beyond anything i would have imagined in all of my adult life.

And the founders were unambiguous about the prohibition of religion capturing the levers of power. There will be no “official religion”. The sooner we can get the wall of Church/State separation rebuilt, the better. This has to be job #1! After that, time to drop the wedge issues and rancorous, bad faith rhetoric. Seriously, i don’t know ANYONE who wants to eliminate local police departments. Maybe divert some of the “socialist” resources to “community policing” and counseling, but only a delusional crazy person would take us back to the libertarian “wild west” days of vigilante justice. Full stop… there will be no defunding of the police. At the same time, no one i know wants their neighbors to stop going to their chosen church, or stop celebrating Christmas. It’s all just rage bait…. grow up people! Please let’s cut the stupid shit all the way out.

If you were to put a gun to my head for an answer to our current state of divisiveness, i would say forcing mainstream news organizations and health care practitioners into capitalist imperatives comes closer to the core of our cultural and economic strife than the spittle-flecked pseudo-debates over extreme abstractions such as “communism” or “fascism”. I know… it’s an opinion, and my opinion is about as good as anyone else’s. I’m just another slob … like Werner Herzog, or David Letterman, or Jesus… you know, one of us. But i do have skin in this game. I want to see a tenable future for my kids… that some day they too can thrive in a world they would be glad to welcome new souls into.

Right now, it’s not…!
So let’s do this thing, what do you say?
Let’s 86 these boogeymen together… OK? Ok!

Onward through the fog… Rohlfie

Audiovision: Truth vs Power

So a wise man, or a man who was at least passing for wise, started talking about truth. And the first thing he did, the clever bastard, was admit that nobody has the first clue what it is. We’re all just monkeys with car keys, little fizzing bundles of electricity piloting meat-suits around the planet, and we haven’t even figured out what the fizz is. Consciousness? Human thought? We don’t know what’s running the projector, but good lord, the movie is colorful, brief, and loud.

And yet…

Out there in the great electronic shrieking festival… pow! slap! kick! BOOM! you’ve got no shortage of bloviators, of sidewalk saviors and cable news prophets with shellacked hair, their faces glowing in the 4k pixel bath, absolutely convinced they’ve got the universe on a leash. They are selling Truth like it’s a used car, a timeless, irrefutable, low-mileage beauty that can be yours for the low, low price of your own brain. And the loudest dealership on the whole cosmic car lot is, of course, religion. These fanatics, these apostolic holy rollers with their eyes spun back in their skulls, insist their particular brand of Truth is the only one that gets you to the bliss of heaven. Just have a little faith, they say. Which is a five-dollar word for blind credulity. 

And so on…

Sometimes, you see, you have to do more than just believe. Sometimes you have to get up from the couch and move your feet. Take Vlad Dracul III. There was a man who put his convictions on a stick. A very long, sharp stick. He wasn’t playing around with faith and hope. He was a man of action, a walking thunderhead of revenge. Why? Was it because the Ottoman Turks read the wrong magic book? Nope. It was because his own father traded him and his brother like hockey cards to the Sultan, who was not a nice man. It was because while Vlad III was learning to hate in a Turkish dungeon, his father and brother were being tortured and murdered by his own people.

This sort of thing can change a boy’s outlook…

Vlad’s truth wasn’t a holy whisper in his ear; it was the hot, screaming fact of betrayal, and his answer was a field outside Târgoviște decorated with two thousand screaming, writhing, shish-kabobbed exclamation points aimed at a merciless sky. 

That was his dark sermon… that was his truth…

Now, let’s rewind history to Simon the Zealot, a different cat altogether. For him, the truth was a revolutionary tinderbox just waiting for a match. He saw this Jesus fellow, this Nazarene miracle man, and his synapses started to crackle with visions of Roman eagles falling out of the sky. He saw the critical mass, the juice, and he wanted to turn the power of popularity into a revolutionary battle-cry. He was trying to shove a prophet shaped like a question mark into a political hole shaped like a sword. This, you might imagine, made the local authorities a little jumpy. While Simon was trying to crown a savior king, the Romans were sharpening their nails. Was Judas the real betrayer? Or was it the man who tried to turn a movement about turning the other cheek into a bar fight with an empire? As a wise old Chinaman is supposed to have said, “If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.” Simon may have changed his tactics, but his all too mortal king wound up in the same place as Vlad’s unfortunate enemies: pinned to a piece of wood, proving a point about the interaction of truth and power.

Undeniable truth? Not so fast. It’s a road, not a motel. Anyone who tells you they’ve checked in and unpacked is either running a con or they’re so lost they think the lobby is the entire universe. The best we can do is what that magnificent, gloomy German filmmaker suggests: you can actually stare into the void until misty clouds of undifferentiated nothingness take shape and stare back. Who knows? You might find something interesting in there. Mostly, you’ll just see yourself, your own egocentric story reflected in a million broken pieces. But if you can lose yourself, as the poet from Detroit once said, you might stumble over a shard of something real. Something inspiring. Just be wary the winds of power can short circuit your heartfelt illusions. 

For now, until we actually begin to understand the wellspring of consciousness, could we please interrupt the merry-go-round of inherited cruelty, this endless cycle of pain passed down by people who were taught to be main characters in a story written by a mysterious, all-powerful Sky-CEO who actually cares to keep a running tab on every thought, every misdemeanor, every everything. The horror show starts when these people realize… and they usually do… that the Sky-CEO, in fact, isn’t watching and doesn’t care. 

Anyway… what if we tried something else? A little compassion… a little kindness… a pinch of skepticism and doubt. After all, the points of light seen in the dark night are mostly distant clusters of billions of stars and their satellites. That the universe allows for individual micro-particles such as you, me, astrophysicists, theologians, filmmakers, schizophrenics, etc. a glimpse of itself is nothing short of miraculous. What we know (we’ve learned quite a lot over the last couple centuries) amounts to no more than a quark, on a barnacle, attached to a massive seagoing cargo barge. We’re as good as bats experiencing hearing loss, we’re constantly bumping into reality in the barely audible darkness. 

But so what?

Don’t be afraid…
Keep stumbling…
We’ll see you there…
Fishing for ecstatic truth…
…in the gallery of the void.

Below the Earth – Above the Sun: To Whom it may Concern

06-FridayThe13-2025:

Ok… laundry day in Waldorf, Maryland. A mere 16 miles from DC-Metro’s “Green Line” to the Federal Triangle. Last weekend, i spent 45k steps perusing the triangle, including a walkabout in the Jefferson Library and the Smithsonian “Portrait Studio.” As well, it just so happened to be Pride Fest and that’s the reason i got so many steps. I had to walk AROUND the fenced-in festival area until such time as they accepted revelers. When they started letting people in, they wouldn’t allow my freakin’ backpack, so i had to ditch it for the Sunday visit. 

Anyway… this is No Kings weekend, the 250th year anniversary of the Continental Army, and (more importantly) Donald Trump’s birthday. So, in honor of all that (mostly the naked emperor’s birthday), there will be a festive military parade, as if we had something to prove to our nation’s enemies. By the way, what enemies really need to be intimidated?? The DOMESTIC enemy?? That’s right, President Ass-hat has been demonizing his political opposition for nearly a decade, declaring them the “enemy of the people.” He behaves as if he REALLY wants a Civil War redo. He even re-renamed all of those recently renamed Southern military bases after Confederate Generals.

I would say, “can you believe it?” But we’re WAY past that, we can believe it. It’s no longer horrifying, and i fear a climate of having the US executive branch at odds with half the population they are SUPPOSED to be serving is getting normalized. Seriously, what does he think? That he can politically cleanse the nation till only MAGAs remain

Bleep THAT!!

How this shakes out beyond the political black hole’s event horizon is anyone’s guess. Mine is as good as any, so here are a few plausible scenarios:

  • ONE: Investigators chasing the possibility that Elon and his hacker buccaneers rigged the 2024 election, find a smoking gun that proves Delicate Donny’s posturing about a stolen 2020 Election was merely foreshadowing for everything 2024 and after. Between congressional gerrymandering, the stacking of the courts by McConnel, and Elon’s hacker squad actively changing ballots, we’ll find Harris actually won that election, and the house of cards Delicate Donny built comes crashing down in a whispering whimper.
  • TWO: The rightward shift of several key demographics was actually a thing. Donny holds on to his Trifecta, and there’s no more democracy. Curtis Yarvin’s wettest of dreams come true, Steve Bannon finally pops like the malignant cyst he is, Stephen Miller laps up the blood, and the upside down is permanently installed until such time as a stout resistance infiltrates the military and stages another coup, setting in motion a constant cycle of banana republic-esque military coup after military coup.
  • THREE: The mid-term turnout is so overwhelmingly blue that no amount of cheating can stand, and MAGA’s demise is somewhat delayed.
  • FOUR: California, Washington, Oregon, and the North Eastern New England states secede from the MAGA disunion, join forces with Canada setting off a fierce border war with which Idaho, Montana, and North Dakota desperately lobby Texas, Louisiana, Arizona, and Florida for assistance. A futile effort in the end as Mexico takes advantage of the chaos keeping the southern states too busy to be of much help on the Northern Front.

Yikes…!!

I ask my MAGA friends and neighbors… “is this REALLY what you want? Do you HATE gays, atheists, independent-minded women, brown and trans people so much that you’ll gladly push this formerly respected world power into a zero-sum contest over cultural trivialities?” Seriously, i NEVER got mad at anyone wishing me “Merry Christmas.” In fact, i am prone to throw that greeting around preemptively as a way to bring down the temperature in my ruby red neighborhoods.

As well, i have been propositioned by gay men for what reasons i cannot fathom other than you CAN’T JUDGE a BOOK by the COVER (duh)! Did i get angry?? Of course not. It’s flattering. In one case, i was in a typical top-40 dance band playing a ski-resort gig. Flaming youth! Apparently, i was broadcasting pheromones… it was a compliment. I politely thanked the bar patron for the compliment and let him know i was playing on the hetero team, “straight as an arrow.” He turned his attention elsewhere and that’s that… not rocket science.

At another extreme… in my elementary school days, i was on fire for Jesus and ready for a lifetime of evangelism and missionary wanderings. But something happened as my frontal lobes started developing expanding my worldview past the tip of my nose. I came to understand that all devoted religious followers believe theirs is the best or only path to the divine. Mine also happened to include doctrines about those who do NOT believe, that they would be in for eternal agony if they didn’t, “see the light.” This i simply could not square with what i learned about Jesus’ example, and so i began a spiritual search that ended up somewhere around Tao, Buddhism, QuantumMysteriousness.

Do i now hate those who cling to their exclusionary creeds?? NO… i have Muslim friends, Mennonite friends, Baptist friends, Hindu friends, Catholic friends, Cherokee friends, etc. etc. I tend to regard religion with the same discretion as sexuality, in private, among friendly interlocutors. 

Regarding trans people: Do those hopelessly bigoted troglodytes actually believe a person would CHOOSE social ostracization, a lifetime of being regarded as a freak? Anyone who believes a human being (social animals to the core) would CHOOSE exile probably need professional help. I wonder if they’ve ever tried engaging empathetic thought experiments, like walking in the metaphorical shoes of a trans person found in any community. Not in your back yard, you say? Maybe think in terms of bell curves. The numbers may be miniscule but each bell has a tail at the extremes; least and most likely. Can you put yourself in the shoes of the trans person you’ve encountered personally? Did you choose to be that way? Why? Think it through and get back to me won’t you? 

Dear MAGA…
Why can’t you be more like Jesus?
Please explain as if speaking to Kindergartners.

If you don’t want to have this discussion in public, please DM me, i will keep your confidence… you have my word.

FINALLY… i’m getting this out in the open because there have been speculations about what may happen to protesters in DC tomorrow. If we have another Kent State or Tiananmen Square and i don’t make it out, i want my MAGA friends to ponder the above questions for my sake. Lastly, i beg you… don’t drag my children into a zero-sum violence choice… Please Please Please??

Cheers and gratitude… Rohlfie

This Land – Louisiana

On the road to Alexandria, Ronnie and Rocinante pulled into a mud bug shack for a bite before settling in for the night. Striking up a conversation with the bartender, Ronnie asked about all those Apostolic churches he was passing on the Louisiana back roads. In the next hour and a half, Ronnie got waaaay more than he bargained for. The bartender had a mellow drawl Ronnie found mesmerizing… a combination of Southern gentry and creole. His ample snow white beard reminded Ronnie of those Park Avenue Santas helping New York parents discover the hopes and dreams of their little ones. He had the dark skin and flashing blue eyes of an avid sun worshipper, projecting the relaxed countenance of a lifelong beachcomber. His loose fitting color patterned shirt reminded Ronnie of African Dashikis, but the style was more like something you would expect to see at a Grateful Dead concert. The bartender seemed intrigued about Ronnie’s curiosity, and so began to unspool a strange tale of spiritual divergence in the great state of Louisiana.

He told the story of Amos Moses, a Cajun of mixed heritage. Some say he’s indigenous, some say his ancestry has deep roots in Palestine, some say Hebrew, and some say he’s Mexican-American, but most interestingly, there is talk among the bayou natives that Amos was a baby floating in a wicker basket, in the swamp, sorta like the Moses of biblical lore. They say he was home schooled in the bayou and currently roams the Mississippi/Louisiana swamps alone in a semi-reclusive stasis.

Amos Moses

Anyway, the story heats up with interesting reports of things that happen around Amos. People having lost sight, suddenly able to see again. Others seemingly on death’s door, miraculously recovering after a short visit. Also, some of the cryptic things he says have been interpreted to contain deep spiritual meaning to those in earshot. Some have claimed Amos’ words hit them like lightning bolts, instantly transporting them to a more enlightened existence. Like the Zen Masters of old, he spins koen-like puzzles that shake the fetters from these troubled souls. And there is a genuine movement coalescing around Amos. The locals are beginning to believe this fella is the actual reincarnation of the biblical Yeshua, or as westerners call him, Jesus of Nazareth.

Now, controversy is building because, in Louisiana, there are Apostolic churches everywhere. In the poor parishes, of which there are many, and more affluent ones as well. Since the 2016 presidential election, you may have heard a thing or two about the New Apostolic Reformation. For those unfamiliar, this is a branch of Christianity declaring “spiritual war” on western liberal democracy. From their tough talk, one might think they are ready to take up arms and do physical harm to their non-Christian Nationalist neighbors, though it seems no one really believes they’ll walk that talk. That said, the apostolics have friends in high places. Sam Alito, the Supreme Court justice, for example. The Speaker of the House of Representatives, Louisiana native, Mike Johnson for another.

Anyway, the movement brewing around Amos Moses aims to make a clear distinction between this New Apostolic Reformation’s “holy war” and the actual teachings of the biblical Yeshua. Why? Because, according to Amos’ devotees, the anticipated moment has arrived. Yeshua has returned, but it’s not like the apocalyptic Christian sects think. The movement growing around Amos wants everyone to know the end-times tone of apostle John’s “Book of Revelation” is not to be taken for anything more than a commentary on the fall of the Roman Empire of John’s day. Most likely, if John had known his words would be taken literally two thousand plus years later, he would have been amused, at best.

So, Amos’ followers believe he is the second coming of Yeshua, but Amos himself, having grown tired of arguing about it (like Brian in Monty Python’s satire), declares that if it IS true, he wants everyone to get back to the original intent of his past self’s teachings, and please don’t try to elevate him to a position of political power.

“For fuck sake,” Amos is notorious for letting the swears fly! “The ‘kingdom of God’ is an ephemeral idea, not of this world, and certainly not a literal form of governance… Jesus Jumpin’ Christ,” he ironically moans!

All that said, this brewing mythology could simply be a case of mass hysteria. But if not, Amos Moses, reincarnation of Yeshua of Nazareth, is bound to have a thing or two to discuss with the Pope (vis child abuse) as well as those TV preachers pushing the “prosperity” snake oil fleecing vulnerable believers every day to the tune of billions. Regularly raking in enough to finance lavish the lifestyles of boldly acquisitive charlatans. And whether one believes Amos Moses or the purveyors of the new Apostolic Reformation, it might be best to let devotees sort it out away from the halls of political governance.

As Ronnie leaves the bartender a generous tip and Rocinante pushes the HSoB tour to Tennessee, a few things can be said of the great state of Louisiana. For one, there are super colorful characters and interesting diverse spiritual traditions. We haven’t even mentioned the Voodoo community, let alone anything in the vein of Islam. After all, some of the most transcendent, gorgeous poetry comes from the Sufi tradition.

And so, as Rocinante rolls into the Louisiana sunset, Ronnie’s final take away is this: Spiritual vibes run deep, wide, and mysterious in Louisiana, just like those swampy bayous down south.

Onward through the fog… RH

On the bayou back roads…
In the fertile Delta…
You’ll find devote folks…
In Louisiana…
So boil them mud bugs…
Strike up a Zydeco…
Meet me, with beads, in New Orleans!


Below the Earth – Above the Sun: The Fibrillating Heart

The class war is over… we won. ~ Warren Buffett (paraphrased)

This morning, i woke on the heels of a very strange dream. In that spilled neon netherworld between wakefulness and full-bore dreaming, i saw a TV debate of the most grotesque and farcical kind. A clash of larger-than-life personalities that seemed to pulse with the beat of a mournful tune. The exchange left an assembled host slack-jawed and angels reaching for their smelling salts. On one side, Raoul Duke, the fictional alter-ego of Gonzo Journalist, Hunter S. Thompson, a bit disheveled from what looked like a three-week bender in the heart of the American Nightmare. On the other side, Grigori Rasputin, peasant turned confidant to the imperial family of Nicholas II, the last Emperor of Russia. Basically, an unsanctioned agent from Hell, officious as ever in a full-length black tunic, his beard scraggly, his eyes glittering with infernal amusement.

The subject of this bizarre cage match? Nothing less than the relative merits of the Beatitudes versus the neo-reactionary agenda of a lavishly funded, high-tech, anti-democratic, ethnonationalist wrecking crew.

Duke, surprisingly, championed the Nazarene’s teachings, albeit with a somewhat impaired countenance suggesting he might have misinterpreted “turn the other cheek” as an invitation to sample every substance in his kit bag. He blathered on about meekness, mercy, and loving your enemy as yourself. His arguments punctuated by tics of paranoia and a banshee howl that rattled the walls.

Rasputin, meanwhile, was in his element, his sardonic wit honed to a razor’s edge. He expounded the neo-reactionary talking points with a gleeful malice, projecting contradictions, absurd fantasies of racist discrimination, and thinly veiled appeals to violence and hatred onto the distracted Duke. With the confidence of an operative well versed in Curtis Yarvin‘s litany of insipid Matrix anecdotes and historical cherry picking. He painted a portrait of red and blue pills, medical experimentalists, and treasonous enemies within, with minds controlled by a monastery of elites indoctrinating youth with a bankrupt philosophy of “the woke.” His heart filled with a venomous envy of anyone with a slightly brighter enlightenment, or an accurate take on Eric Raymond’s thesis of the Cathedral and the Bazaar.

“These libtards,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt, “prattle on about the merits of diversity while simultaneously demonstrating their utter intolerance of white male energy. They yearn for a mythical world of brotherly love that could never exist, a paradise of fools and dreamers lost in the mists of their own addled imaginations. The very embodiment of the Dunning-Kruger effect, their ignorance so profound it renders them incapable of recognizing their own stupidity.”

Duke, roused from his stupor by Rasputin’s shameless belligerence, attempted a rebuttal, but his words were lost in a torrent of incoherent babble. He stumbled over his own feet, his bucket hat askew, his kit bag waving erratically like a train conductor’s lamp gone haywire. Even in this impaired condition, he mocked his interlocuter’s obsession with gender ambiguity and critical history, his ludicrous claims of religious hegemony, and his pathetic attempts to cloak his bigotry in the mantle of patriotism.

Rasputin, sensing the rabble on his side, pressed the attack. “These are not patriots,” he thundered, “but parasites, feeding off the carcass of a once-great nation. They’re the enemies of freedom, foes of common sense, the very antithesis of everything that is good, sweet, and true in the human spirit.”

The debate, if one could call it that, ended in a whimper rather than a bang. Duke, thoroughly distracted and utterly outmatched, collapsed in a heap of red herrings and non-sequiturs. Rasputin, victorious but strangely melancholic, vanished in a puff of brimstone, leaving behind the lingering scent of sulfur and the echo of scathing laughter.

The assembled onlookers, meanwhile, were left to ponder the spectacle they had just witnessed. Had a cartoon character just delivered a wobbly, but eloquent defense of Christian values? Had the wizard of Petersburg just leveled an aggressive defense of neo-fascist philosophy? Had the world gone mad? Or was this just another Tuesday in the heyday of the New Apostolic Reformation?

One thing was certain: the universe has a wicked sense of humor.

Strap in, loopers…
…the ride has just begun
.