2016/04/24 Su – Twice in a Life

I should like to write about topics of interest, and imagine up some greatness for myself with whatever small audience I could attract.  Like others, I sometimes have ideas I want to share.  But this page started, and must remain, as a personal journal; all else will drift into obsolescence.  (Besides, I have fewer than ever real people to talk to any more.)

I have often wanted to write more, but I am hounded night and day by the “responsibility” that my wife is sure that I carry, and that she is sure conflicts with spending much time on-line, as I used to do when I wrote here.  A few words on our situation…

This has been the most impactful year of our lives.  Several months after our union, we found our (my) fecundity diminished (again, my wife would say, from my computer use), so we cut short our attempts at pregnancy that were taking too long at our age, and went in to a place.  She was injected with hormonal agents over some weeks; her spawn and my fertilizer were harvested (on the morning of Dec. 15) and combined (the same day, I think); and three days after, three new beings were implanted into her, those considered viable.  One embryo had the best formation, while two others were fair; others, I forget how many (if any), were ill-formed.  I think we had an initial supply of five or six eggs.

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(Above: Probably, but not necessarily, the same three-day-old human beings)

Within a few more weeks, one of the three children stopped growing, died, and disintegrated, our sorrow opposed by our relief at the passed-over remnant (and, probably, her relief at not needing to balloon up any further beyond what her already small frame would easily tolerate).

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The two survivors thrived, to our great consolation, lasting 34 weeks and 3 days from conception (two weeks longer by regular pregnancy count), till the day that we (she) had scheduled their ventral removal — too early, I still thought, even though delayed a little on my urging.  I was wonderfully grateful that a male nurse had taken my hand-held recorder to film their mother’s deliverance.  The children, boys, as we had already been informed, saw or felt sunlight again on a Thursday — the same day they had last seen it, if there had been any in the room where they were implanted.  Both were eyes-open when I first saw them, but one soon shut his eyes.

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Eight months have gone by, in much the same emotional extremes that characterized us previously — joys and agonies — but the joy is much expanded, now, encircling all the delights and cuteness of such young innocents.  The periodic agony was always somewhat severe and is still severe.  The conflict remains.  Our hope and trust are still badly damaged, unhealed, by our repeated refusal to accept one another.  I feel that my expectations of her conformity are far less intrusive than hers of mine, but she obviously does not.

I have often felt pulled by memories — not so much tortured by past ignorance, as before, but reminded of my various lost chances: a hallway of many locked, and many unlocked and even opened doors that I did not bother pressing upon, having found the first few, by chance, locked.

But the two of us were deep into it before, and are doubly deep in now, with no real thoughts of getting out, except to soothe our desperation in our worst moments.

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Our parents visited once, then twice (Mother only), and thrice will be a week later — welcome bright lights on our foggy highway.


Can you imagine, Donald Trump as president?  It’s comic-book stuff; it’s unreal (if our artificial reality can be called real), that people would care so little as to elect some yahoo from their entertainment channel on t.v. (because he’s rich! he talks big! he’ll make the country ‘so great, very soon’, because that’s the only thing he can ever think to say on camera!).  It’s as unreal as Obama and his mad science experiment in the White House, a man elected for the colour of his skin (and because he’s cool! he talks big! he makes fun of his enemies, takes credit and distributes blame for everything, and makes bizarre promises that are somehow believable if you’re under 30!).  The Trump movement (as well as the Sanders movement) is only a sequel to the irrational extravagance and wild gullibility of the Obama movement.  Yet I find myself defending him again and again on Facebook, as his critics almost unfailingly fight him at his own vacuous level, condemning this and that, the colour of his handkerchief, or the smell of his flatulence, or the way he was taught to speak English, or the cut of his toupee, proving themselves nothing more or less than he is, as they clamour for the equal — no, the greater fraudulence of his more calculating but transparently self-serving rivals.  Yet they are all, to a man, perfectly average Americans subjected to different upbringings.  They are all, alike, qualified or unqualified.

Should a man have political credentials to govern?  Yes, in the old world of kings, where some men are better than others, he should.  In America, he should not; his animus should only be a demonstrated desire to serve to his country, and the most basic ability to thoughtfully discharge his duty, nor should he make a dime off of that service, nor should he be given sole command of the military or the final assent and whole execution of all laws, much less free rein to direct the economy or to shape and educate the demograph by appointing ‘czars’.  Indeed, he should not seek the job at all; it should be foisted upon him at random, and should reward him nothing, neither renown nor title nor Nobel Prize nor a fortune in book sales and speaking fees nor free retirement, but honest toil and the common respect afforded all others who do their duty.  We have corrupted our lofty system from the beginning, enticing our servants to exercise authority over us, allowing them to do so because in our petty resentment, we hope that the same ill that we pull on our own heads will also crush our foes.

The system cannot have succeeded.  Imagine, a single tyrant being bad, but a committee of like-minded tyrants not being bad!  All with the same sense of self-importance and hunger to control their fellow beings.  Or a chief executive not being bad… because… what?  Because the brilliant electorate will not vote him in nor retain him for a second term!  …And judges will oppose him!  Congress will oppose him!  And yet he appoints the judges, and the congressmen, too, are partisans, selected by the same public frenzy that selected himself, with the same religion and loyalties and invented grievances to correct by their gracious condescencion.  Or, an opposition party arises to contest governance, and, gaining any power at all, immediately oppresses its old enemies.  And all answer together to Babylon, the government of manufactured popularity, with its police apparatus of social fear and economic pressure, and its religion of greed and license and wrath.  It’s back to the jungle law of pre-modern times; King Government can do whatever he pleases.

What is missing, forgotten soon after the founding, is a sense of the purpose of government, the distinction between what the individual must do and what the collective must not do.  It has been well asked, could a Bill of Rights happen today, in the ways that we think separate us from scarier nations?  Almost as soon as Americans realized, ‘Hey, no more kings!’ their next thought was, ‘……Now -I- can be king!’  And kings they became, warring with other imperialists to swipe land, depriving natives of their heritages, enslaving foreigners, marching on each other to exterminate dissenters, ending slavery without repatriating its victims to antagonize the future, waging conquest abroad, gradually draping grosser and grosser obscenity across the land, establishing by law a new religion of their own make, propagandizing that religion by mandate, and fragmenting society from within and without to assert their dominance.  Our only idea now is to win elections and impose our will, or suffer beneath the will of others — America’s never-abolished slavery of the mind.

Perhaps a computerized technocracy could reverse it, programmed to only its essential functions.  Alas, it will just be a new vector of control.  At least human kings die out.

But back in 2016, no, I care nothing for this sideshow election, or whether Mexicans with their retinue of criminals keep moving in and screwing up the country whilst screaming at Americans for it, or whether terrorists come enforce sharia on all these devilish Christians, or still other foreigners come factionalise and socialise the place, or whether the wealthy make a killing while the poor crave ignorance and perpetuate their own poverty, or careless and stupid children addict themselves to chemical products and send their communities back to the dark ages, or the middle class see their earnings inflated and taxed away by clownish monetary policy, or whether the perverted school board prostitutes the nation’s children on the grounds that ignorance of prostitution is a sin, or a generation of voluntary prostitutes murders its own children in service of their idol of lust, or whether Christianity is outlawed and some new secular cult of ideological ‘science’ enforced, or the people are caused to worship animals to appease the offended climate gods, or the whole place is burned and starved out by drought or whatever, or any move right or left by the obese yet starving military causes foreign lands to burn and explode with war.

Some of it is real, some is fantasy; but it’s all delusion considering that these externalities do not account for human happiness, except in the vague sense that, if human life exists at all (sorry, aborted babies and other murdered people) in the modern world, it already grants every chance for contentment that the ancient members of our race could have wanted.  Bad policy does take a toll; some must be unwillingly sacrificed for it.  But granted life and basic liberty, happiness can only ever come from within, from living in accordance with our natures.  You would be hard pressed to find a political entity anywhere today (or, in fact, in the past), living within which you could neither live happily, if so intentioned to, if you were willing to follow the rules, nor escape to where you could live happily.  Some minorities in transition lack this privilege, but very few in our day — victims, for example, of human trafficking.  But many others believe themselves to be in this condition of forced sorrow, and their belief makes it true where it otherwise is not true.

But spare me the campaign nonsense about how your party has discovered a superhero, and that everybody else is a supervillain.  There are better candidates, though we cannot predict them, only make our best guesses.  Impossible paradoxes come to good leaders as easily as simplicity and ease come to weak leaders.  And it doesn’t matter how well you dance if your partner refuses to quit tripping you, nor how poorly if your mother is the judge.  There are also better social movements and policies, but not the ones you’ll find inside your group-think or political orthodoxy of choice, or ever the ones you’ll see praised on t.v. or advertised by the corporate Internet — probably not even the policies you will ever seriously consider while still wanting to be respected in public, since the public is not motivated by truth, but by fear of ostracism.

Presidents, though, will not make you happy, nor save your country, nor ruin it.  You will, and your fellow men will.


David French, a great help to Mitt Romney back in the day, types a lot of very good stuff.  I sometimes, though, take issue with some of it on Facebook, and may have hit a nerve with my last comment, which I later found inaccessible and, by the looks of it, deleted, along with his whole post (linking his off-site article) — not a common phenomenon with him.  It was not my intent to annoy, but I certainly feel annoyed myself by the removal, and now must post it here, with slight [adjustment]:

Oh, what primary-election horror… Trump is a centrist.  Once again, please excuse my sighing dissent.

Is it really threatening, to think to reserve images on currency only for chief executives?  In our lifetimes, the only non-president on U.S. paper money was Founding Father Ben Franklin (though there were other exceptions in the early days, since the time that monetary ‘bills’ were actually pieces of writing – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Note ).  Except for the Union’s feminine persona, ‘Lady Liberty’, non-presidents on coins were also quite rare, including the Native American nickel figure of a century ago, and then the Susan B. Anthony dollar in 1979 — both resulting from “ideological whims”.  This traditional near exclusivity of presidents on money has begun to break down in our time (though not out-of-step with historical precedents, far less with international trends), and Trump’s point of view may be wrong, but why agree with him in principle, then fault him for disliking the conclusion?  French: “Conservatives can call out the motives while applauding the outcome.”  (…What?  Why?)  Trump: “I question both the motives and the outcome.”  Yikes!  And this ‘yuge’ difference somehow means that Conservatives cannot trust him… because, what, his resignation toward cultural disenfranchisement is wanting.  This particular criticism somehow manages to make French look more scatter-brained than his target.

But perhaps Trump is truly vile, for his Romney-esque prioritization of economic stability over correct stands on gender policy — that is, for his opinion that he retained as personal, (correctly) leaving the choice to NC.  He can surely be re-educated on the perceived risks of victimization from bathroom-sharing, and his logical breach about the status quo.  This is the fairest point against him in this article, though, as usual, it unfairly aims at an off-the-cuff response to the (veiled) antagonism of interrogators.  We already knew that Trump lacks Obama’s silvery tongue, though not without his own rhetorical skill.

Also recalling Romney is Trump’s outlandish idea that innocent women — imagine, if only momentarily, the French daughters, or any of our daughters or kin — MUST become the mothers of their rapists’ children, must perpetuate the genes of their defilers whom scripture, on its part, nominally condemned to death, because rapists have more right to reproduce than the women have not to reproduce.  Or, that women, who can potentially create many children, MUST be compelled to heroically give their lives for a single one in utero, if sinister physiological circumstance befalls.  Pay no mind that these exceptions of enormous political value amount to the most insignificant fraction of the child-sacrifice trade as a whole.

Do the Christians under the Trump/Romney bus still care for scripture?  The Bible says, “The seed of the wicked shall be cut off” (Ps. 37:28).  But it also says, “The children [shall not] be put to death for the fathers: every man shall be put to death for his own sin” (Deut. 24:16; also, Ezek. 18), and a king spared the (presumably legitimate) children of murderers on this account (2 Kgs. 14:6).  Yet certain incestuous were cursed to both “be” and “die childless” (Lev. 20:20-21).  God himself dealt such a steep judgment to King David (whom Mrs. French lately argued was a rapist): upon his murder and wife-theft, God took the resultant child (2 Sam. 12:13-15).  God through Isaiah promised, at his day of judgment, to send sinners foes who “shall have no pity on the fruit of the womb; their eye shall not spare children”, and that “their children also shall be dashed to pieces before their eyes” (Isaiah 13:16-18).

If anybody deserves this ultimate penalty of genetic eradication, is it not those whose very crime is to create life parasitically, without consent — to erase their crime with an equal, opposite measure, a tooth for a tooth?  Yet no mother is compelled to destroy her own flesh, if that is what her abuser’s child is to her; but why deprive her the choice of destroying the flesh of him who did sacrilege to her sacred motherhood, who, without rape abortion, is forced to merge or pollute her endless maternal love with her equally eternal revulsion at her own degradation?  Had there been reliable procedures for abortion in Moses’ day, would he not have given God’s word along these lines: no abortion for any reasons whatsoever, EXCEPT at the choice of the proven victims of rape, or where medical emergency in pregnancy will likely rob a family of its nurturer, threatening all for the sake of one?

[Mothers are creators.  Does the choice of creation belong to the creator, or to the creature?  We may condemn Muslims for exercising (Biblical) parental rights that we have outlawed, but the fact remains that parents stand in the place of God to their helpless young children, and have power to discharge their duty.  But, one may argue, mothers seeking to end pregnancies for convenience already had their choice, and, once choosing to create life, may not ethically terminate it… EXCEPT those who were forced into motherhood by assault.  They, alone, should have full liberty, as all other parents, to make the once-in-a-lifetime choice of creation.]

Christians, please reconsider these exemptions.  NR/French, please try again to rebuke Trump above, not below, his own meager level of substance.

Maybe it was the part about his family.  Oh, well; it was a fair approach, to apply his preferred policy personally to him, if he wants to apply it personally to others.  I respect him greatly.

-Steve

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