Contra @realDonaldTrump, @Nero, @StefanMolyneux – and Eric Cartman: Tu quoque is never okay.

The Army of Cartmans marches on – to its terminal peril – with new generals, and now with an even more tragic end goal.

This week’s Church of Splendor homily takes up Donald Trump, Stefan Molyneux and Milo Yiannopoulos – and why their persistent deployments of the logical fallacies Two wrongs make a right and Tu quoque promise nothing but tragedy for their mindlessly guffawing followers:

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#BrotherYouAskedForIt: #Trump thrall @Nero parades on a litter borne by his pretend slaves.

@Nero’s litter bearers deserve what they will get. No one pretends to be a slave for long.

@Nero’s litter bearers deserve what they will get. No one pretends to be a slave for long.

Opposing evil with evil assures the triumph of evil.

Until I saw that photo, I hadn’t known I could be even more disgusted by Milo Yiannopoulos, aka @Nero — which appellation is ever more obviously apposite.

This pathetic little popinjay, Eric Cartman made flashy, is just the symptom, though. #Trump is the disease.

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The three most important words in all of human scholarship? “I was wrong.”

You had to learn how to make that simple hand gesture – and it wasn’t easy at first.

Photo b]y: sylvar

We are bombarded with science “news” thrust upon us by Cautious academics – almost all of it tendentious.

Here’s an example from earlier this month: Science Says the First Born Child Is the Most Intelligent. A first-born child is an only child until the first sibling comes along, and, accordingly, will tend to be more highly rewarded for demonstrating adult behaviors, especially Cautious behaviors. To its credit, the cited “science” notes some of this. What it misses is that it measures only “intelligence” as it is prized by “science,” missing out on the wonderful expressions of human ingenuity more often exhibited by second- and later-born children. First-born children look more like nerds to nerds, and this is all the “study” actually demonstrates.

This week’s Church of Splendor homily takes up the tendentiousness of science “news” with a very simple practical demonstration – teaching children how to make common hand signals:

What can we learn from such a simple example? Simply this: The people telling you that you know nothing and they know everything know quite a bit less than they claim to, and much of what they claim to know is wrong. When they have guts enough to admit their errors, that’s when they can be trusted.

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RIP Guy Clark: Some days you rob the train. Some days the train robs you.

Per my friend David Brodie, yesterday was supposed to be Happy Day, but the passing of Guy Clark made it a very sad day for me. More than Townes van Zandt, more than Leonard Cohen, much more than Bob Dylan, Guy Clark could put over a song and make you believe it, make you feel it from the inside. American music isn’t music, it’s poetry. We lost a great poet yesterday.

Here’s a clip to show the man’s raw power, but you should watch the whole show. This is what pop music – five writers, fourteen players, six dancers and autotune – cannot do:

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Letting kids be kids. Inducing children to make choices about sexuality is child sexual abuse.

“Hey, little girl. Wanna catch the gay gene?”

“Hey, little girl. Wanna catch the gay gene?”

Homosexuality is an unavoidable, inescapable non-lethal birth defect, and, accordingly, children must be recruited into it by every possible means.

Wait… What…?

The claim that homosexuality is a genetic defect, much like epilepsy, seems hugely dubious to me, with the best evidence for my doubts being the relentless campaigning to induct children into the cult of same-sex attraction. Taking account that many, most or even virtually all self-professed homosexuals claim to have been victims of childhood sexual abuse, a more likely theory would seem to be that the Pied Piper’s Gay Pride Parade seeks to identify, isolate and groom potential new candidates for childhood sexual abuse, in the end recruiting still more lifelong homosexuals.

This week’s news brings us two new onslaughts in the war on human biology and normal family life by the ‘love’ you dare not identify as decadence: The demand that Elsa from Disney’s “Frozen” franchise be rendered a lesbian and President Obama’s order that all public schools make their bathrooms and locker rooms transgender-neutral.

As I noted the other day, the later putsch is a boon for home-schooling, so the net long-term effect could be very positive. But in the short run, these two campaigns, along with the rest of the gay agenda, serve to silence the opposition while making our children that much more vulnerable to a life of barren self-destruction.

What’s the solution? The Clan Testudo, of course. The world is preying on your children, and to protect them, you must isolate them from the worst influences of the world until they are mature enough to make their choices wisely.

That’s the theme of this week’s Church of Splendor homily: The best choice for your kids? No choice.

All purposive human behavior is chosen, and adults are free to make what I might consider to be poor choices – over and over again. I dispute that there is anything either gay or loving about ‘gay love,’ but your mileage may vary and how you choose to execute your life is none of my damn business anyway. But if your obsession extends (more…)

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Public school is now pervert school, so I bring you “Uncle Willie’s World-Class High School In A Matchbook Cover.”

Screen Shot 2016-05-13 at 8.45.13 AMThe world’s greatest gun salesman is now also the world’s greatest promoter of home schooling. Accordingly, I will revisit an ideal high school curriculum I devised a while back:

Parents: If your children have mastered geometry and Latin, they can learn anything else they might wish, with a dedicated plan or on any whim, at any depth of rigor they choose, to complete world-class mastery if they so choose – or even to unimagined leaps of mind, once minds are fully free to leap and lope and surf and soar at will. However you handle their education through the tween years, your goals should be aimed toward complete mastery of those two very rigorous disciplines. I want music, I want lots more math, and art, art, art. But people who master those two subjects can think, and in consequence they will be able to learn anything else they might want.

And, heck, that sounds like a publishing business. We’ll give it to Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie, because he’s nicer than me. Hence:

Uncle Willie’s World-Class High School In A Matchbook Cover.

That’s the outside. Once you pay your nickel, you get the full curriculum, printed on the inside cover:

Latin, Geometry,
to full mastery.

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Robert @Tracinski gets Rotarian Socialism. Why can’t @YaronBrook and the #AynRand Inst. catch a clue?

If your ideal is at odds with reality, your claims are useless.

If your ideal is at odds with reality, your claims are useless.

Do you watch “Shark Tank” on ABC? We rarely miss it. I like to see eager strivers showing how they’re putting a dent in the universe – and I like to evaluate their presentation skills. But watching the investors is worthwhile, also. A “Shark Tank” pitch is a better mousetrap, and three cheers for innovation. But a “Shark Tank” deal is a business model, where the term ‘business model’ almost always means a plan to exclude potential competitors. Kevin O’Leary and Laurie Grenier are particularly adamant about spiking the competition, but all of the investors seek to know how the wantrepreneurs plan to extract maximum profits from their businesses by making it difficult or impossible for other vendors to compete.

How do they do this? By rent-seeking, of course, especially by deploying the patent system to forbid alternative mousetraps.

The argument for intellectual property law is utilitarian: Forbidding Jerry to profit from what he has learned from Jim’s innovations is bad for Jerry, but it’s good for everyone else, the claim runs, since without the state imposing monopoly protection to Jim’s exclusive benefit, Jim will have no incentive to innovate in the first place. The proposition itself is dubious, and utilitarianism is never more that elaborately-rationalized crime. In an actually-free society, how Jim defends his property is his own problem, not something to be collectivized in pursuit of alleged collective benefits. And whatever argument there might have been for patent laws in 1789, it is by now obvious that the patent system is simply odious rent-seeking.

The same logic applies to every other kind of government “help” for business: It is all Rotarian Socialism – lining Jim’s pockets with wealth extracted by threat of violence from Jerry and everyone else.

The Federalist’s Robert Tracinski gets this, at least with respect to full-time professional rent-seeker Elon Musk. Good on him. I expect he might trip over the larger problem, though: Rotarian Socialism is the only kind of business left in America.

Which brings me to my pet bête noire, Yaron Brook, evader-in-chief (more…)

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For Moms on Mother’s Day: The best way to express your motherhood? Stand by your man.

What’s most worth celebrating on Mother’s Day? Fatherhood.

Photo by: Claudia Heidelberger

This is true: Everything that is wrong with everything is wrong because the remnants of Western Civilization have spent the last 200 years undermining fatherhood.

This is not a new argument around here, of course, but it’s still news to the larger culture. We seek to blame doctrines or education or Hollywood for the decadence of The West, but decay is what happens when men are robbed of their reasons for resisting it.

Love, sex, marriage and family are all initiated and sustained by men, and when women try to usurp these roles, all of civilization falls to chaos. If you want a civil libertarian society, you want male leadership. And if you won’t abide male leadership, you want tyranny by default.

This week Instapundit linked to a Federalist post insisting that mothers prevent statism, to which I reacted with vigor:

This could not be more false. Fatherless families are arms of the state. That’s why Marxism has made war on fatherhood from its inception. Only fathers, modern-day exponents of the Hoplite Greek ideal, can resist tyranny in all forms.

This is the subject of this week’s Church of Splendor homily: “Sorry, Moms: You’re just a wave, you’re not the water.”

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Redemption rocks for everyone in “Begin Again” – #MyKindOfBenedy.

Keira Knightley charms as a jilted song-writer reluctantly effecting musically-disruptive retribution with a back-from-the-abyss record company exec played by Mark Ruffalo in Begin Again – very much #MyKindOfBenedy.

Keira Knightley charms as a jilted song-writer reluctantly effecting musically-disruptive retribution with a back-from-the-abyss record company exec played by Mark Ruffalo in Begin Again – very much #MyKindOfBenedy.

Begin Again, currently Netflixable, is everything I look for in a benedy, a convincing take on what to do when life hands you too many lemons all at once.

Here’s the back-of-the-envelope plot summary from the official Begin Again web site:

The latest film from writer-director John Carney (ONCE), BEGIN AGAIN is a soul-stirring comedy about what happens when lost souls meet and make beautiful music together. Gretta (Keira Knightley) and her long-time boyfriend Dave (Adam Levine) are college sweethearts and songwriting partners who decamp for New York when he lands a deal with a major label. But the trappings of his new-found fame soon tempt Dave to stray, and a reeling, lovelorn Gretta is left on her own. Her world takes a turn for the better when Dan (Mark Ruffalo), a disgraced record-label exec, stumbles upon her performing on an East Village stage and is immediately captivated by her raw talent. From this chance encounter emerges an enchanting portrait of a mutually transformative collaboration, set to the soundtrack of a summer in New York City.

It’s a movie about music, so I’m an easy sell to begin with, but much more than that, it’s the cinema of redemption. Without giving away anything, I hope, everyone is a better person by the end of the film, the signal characteristic of the best benedies.

Begin Again features real musicians in supporting roles, and that’s fun, too, even if you will never believe that a character played by rapper Mos Def could be named Saul. And Maroon Five’s Adam Levine gets to take a star turn – not as an actor but as a funked-up falsetto solo artist:

This is a good date-night movie. It’s too gritty and rough for kids, but the arguments about love, marriage, family and doing good work against all odds are redemptive for you, too. Plus which, Keira Knightley slays, as ever, and the music is wonderful. I gave it five stars (more…)

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You know #Trump is a monster. What do you plan to tell your children when he comes for you – or for them?

No one does smug like a lifelong thug. Will you feed your kids to this monster?

No one does smug like a lifelong thug.Will you feed your kids to this monster?

The Republicans are screwed: They have reduced their options to Benito Mussolini versus Frank Underwood. The worst of it is, the election will be won by President Fallguy, either way. Marxism is collapsing, and Marxism must not be blamed for that failure. And #BrotherYouAskedForIt!

You could argue that I have it easy: I don’t vote – or, rather, I make an elaborate production of voting for no one. Plus which, while people who take me seriously take me very seriously, those folks are few in number – and most of them don’t vote, either. My favorite candidate in this race is a hopeless case – Rand Paul – and I like his father better than him, and I like perennial libertarian favorite #NoneOfTheAbove best of all.

But even though the eventual winner of this election – the ignominious Fallguy – will be remembered as one of history’s great losers, the candidate I want to see lose – and lose in the most humiliating fashion – is Donald Trump.

Why? Because Trump is a monster. People natter all the time about sociopaths – where sociopath is almost always a squishy sobriquet meaning, “He called me on my vices and the truth hurt” – but Trump is the real thing: An actual remorseless bullying thug.

You know that’s true. If you hate him, it’s why you hate him. Much worse, if you like him, it’s why you like him: You think he will be your monster – which is me calling you on your own vices.

Why is Trump a monster? Because his father summarily rejected him at the age of 13 or 14, when he shipped the already-vicious bully he had spawned off to military school:

You will have noted that I tend to focus on fathers. A mother’s job is to nurture her child’s body. A father’s job is to cultivate his intellectual and emotional life. Where children or adults betray enduring, outsized unmet needs, these are failures of cultivation rather than of nurturance. This is not to say (more…)

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#NeverTrump and #NeverHillary: The most self-loving way I can think of to vote for slavery-by-proxy.

There are a lot of different ways to think about voting, most of which are just quasi-religious white noise to me. But the issue of voting — do it or don’t, and, if so, how and why? — has gnawed at me all my life. It’s not a major huge deal; the millionth part of anything is nothing. But I have never resolved in my own mind how to approach the idea of voting in elections.

Until now, that is.

As a matter of philosophical principle, voting could only be just in a club, a fully-voluntary organization — and I don’t join clubs. Voting in government elections is necessarily unjust, since I am forbidden by that government to escape from it. In effect, when I vote in a government election, I am trying to dictate the terms on which my neighbors and myself are to be enslaved. I am not just influencing that evil, I am making myself party to it: I am effectively declaring that I have a fractional ownership of everyone else. This is the argument against voting you will hear from many serious libertarians.

Here’s a counter argument, also strongly libertarian: Voting for the most freedom-loving candidate in any race, and for the most liberty-seeking of the ballot questions, is the only way that someone like me has of communicating what it is that I want to temporizing, equivocating, back-side-covering major-party political candidates. I first learned of this strategy in an article in Reason magazine by 1984’s Libertarian Party candidate for president, David Bergland.

A third argument, especially in primary elections and when considering ballot questions, is to pursue self-defense-by-ballot-box, voting against the worst candidates and for the best ballot propositions. To the extent that I have voted in my life, this is what I have done.

But none of this has been satisfying to me. The lesser of two evils is still evil, but forbearing to rape the commons does nothing to eliminate the Tragedy of the Commons.

As above, this is not a major huge deal, so perhaps I’m over-thinking it already. But the lens of self-adoration leads me to rethink everything, (more…)

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Flesh Puddles: The most dishonest kind of suicide is camouflaged by infinite indulgence.

“I ate the Food Pyramid and now I am one.”

Photo by: Sandra Cohen-Rose and Colin Rose

For church this week, a cautionary tale: We are hectored about the epidemic of suicides among the middle class and the epidemic of deaths by opiate overdoses, but we overlook a more sinister kind of suicide:

The outrageous food addiction of the tragically underfathered.

We are watching the slow suicide of Western Civilization by doing everything we can to look away from its most outrageous expression:

People, drowning in incredible abundance, slowly eating themselves to death.

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President Fallguy: How YOU can win this presidential election.

“I say, I say, but that’s not FAIR!”

“I say, I say, but that’s not FAIR!”

No matter who wins the election, your freedom will lose.

An unmoored electorate must move ever leftward, and, regardless of the results on election day, Foghorn Leghorn has successfully unmoored the Republican party from the staid, pontificating intellectual elite who had presumed to lead it.

This will prove to be bad news for the cause of political liberty.

With a hat tip to a post from Leon Wolf on the emergence of a third party in the U.S., this week’s Church of Splendor homily illuminates how you can resist the onslaught:

More on President Fallguy.

More on The Clan Testudo.

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My entry in ‘The President Erdogan Offensive Poetry Competition.’

None so deserving…

Image by: thierry ehrmann

By way of The Spectator, time and fate have conspired to make a limericist of me:

Erdogan? Let none dare deride him.
The thought police sidle beside him.
With his jaw forged from glass,
his head parked up his ass,
not even the Turks can abide him.

When someone insists mockery is to be forbidden… mock on!

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Oxford’s Torment: The Latest Chapter in the Shakespeare Mystery.

If the rose were a pose, how sweet would that smell?

If the rose were a pose, how sweet would that smell?

The enduring mystery of William Shakespeare, poet and playwright, has become a little less mysterious.

It may be that we can never fully plumb the genius of our ever-living Bard, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t muck around in the basement. You never know what you’ll find down there.

Witness: We now have in our possession the long hypothesized ‘lost works’ of Edward de Vere, Seventeenth Earl of Oxford. Oxford has been regarded by heretics and assorted lunatics as the true author of the works of Shakespeare. This myth can finally be laid to rest.

Marvel at the genius of Shakespeare! Defenders of the Swan of Avon have always been hard put to explain how a glove-maker’s son from a provincial back-water – a man who may not even have known how to read – could have written the sublime corpus we know as The Works of William Shakespeare. What life experiences led the glove-maker’s son to his subject matter? What intensive education lent him his deep erudition? How can the paired and parallel sonnet cycles be reconciled with his seemingly mundane life history?

Literary scholars almost always attempt to excavate the details of an author’s life to inform the reading of his works. Almost always. With Shakespeare we have forborne to do this. Embarrassingly, the life of our immortal poet is… embarrassing. Taking account of every factual evidence we have of his comings and goings, he seems to have been an ignorant, rough-hewn knave. Not Iago, surely, but not Jack Falstaff either. Not a Pistol, to be sure, but not that far from Nym.

If the details of Shakespeare’s life lend us any clues to the quality of his literary output, we should excavate at once in search of misspelled dirty jokes and forged invoices. Wisely, orthodox Shakespearean scholars have elected to conjecture that Shakespeare is the one exception to their theory, the only serious writer in the Western canon who was able to keep his life experiences out of his work.

But the advent of the Oxfordian claim has only made (more…)

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