A Near Perfect Indifference

To those of us oldsters who believe that Western civilization is dying, relax; it is already dead. Already dead to virtually everyone under the age of thirty who have been de-educated by the educational system to the point that they know next to nothing of the history of their country, next to nothing of their own cultural identity, and are blissfully unaware that they are completely ignorant of anything of importance. To most Europeans, the prospect of their countries becoming Muslim has nothing to do with them. To most Americans, the prospect that their country will very shortly be minority White and is being balkanized by identity politics has nothing to do with them either. And when the last of us who do care what happens to our countries are gone, and the West, with its science and law is gone, the world will revert to its pre-renaissance condition. And no one will remark upon the passing, for no one will know of what has passed.

Detectives, digging up the graves
Of once free men who now were knaves
Dumb serfs who worked the land for local lords
Might find disturbing grave goods there
Some evidence they did not care
And did in fact invite the hostile hordes
Into their homes to banish guilt
In shame for what their fathers built
A science and a culture that put law
Above the priest and royalty
And so they saw their loyalty
Not to their land but to the savage raw
Who knew no law and sought our fall
Who knew that peace meant death to all
Who were not of their blood or of their tribe
Detectives found the holy grail
One word on paper told the tale
‘Indifference” written by the nameless scribe

A Poplar Girl

Panpsychism is the theory, held by many quantum physicists, that all matter, from electrons and rocks to sequoias, have, like mammals and all other living things, a conscious inner life, though they concede the inner life of an electron is likely to be fairly subtle. To test this theory I spoke to the leafy and lovely poplar tree in my back yard. She said her name was Lily O’Dendron.

So nice of you to ask, she said
I seldom get to talk
Though many words run through my head
As birds sit here and squawk
I hate the silly stupid things
Their talk is so mundane
They foul my leaves and flap their wings
Thank goodness for the rain
The rocks though, by your garden path
So serious, profound
Prolithic talk with the bird bath
Who always stands his ground
I listen mostly to the fence
Whose pickets always fight
It never seems to make much sense
But lasts most of the night
I said, but what of all the trees
Just outside my backyard
She said they’d given her the freeze
And make her life so hard
They’re manly oaks, and snooty too
I’m poplar and a girl
And now I must say toodle-oo
Here comes my favorite squirrel
We talk at length of mice and fear
And why the stars were made
He’s told me why it is I’m here
To give the squirrels some shade
But I believe come late at night
We’re meant for better things
The world and universe set right
When poplars become kings


The Trumpeter Swan is a magnificent bird, regal, conscious of his beauty and competence. Trumpeter Swans are not looked upon with favor by lesser avians. I talked to one of these lesser avians recently, a writer for the New York Times, and he said,

I do not like the way he talks
I do not like the way he walks
I do not like the way he stalks
Small creatures like us owls
He quiet sits upon the pond
Planning how we can be conned
Believing that his magic wand
Will cure all that befouls
The world and that he can surmount
All wrongs with twitter his account
His wisdom the most sacred fount
And not the New York Times
The Trumpeter, so swanlike he
Will take us down the road, you’ll see
To fascism and likely be
Convicted for his crimes
With that he sobbed and shook his head
And through his tears he softly said
On yonder pond he sits like Dread
Intent upon his dream
Of changing all the Left has done
To make the country only one
Of many and not like the Hun
So mad that I could scream

The Warnings Of The Fates

The dying West will still be here in fifty years, but demographics don’t lie. What will not be here will be the capability or the will of an aging and minority White population to defend itself against the barbarian. The death of the West will cascade into the death of the megacities of the near future, for the teeming masses of those megacities depend on reliable food and medical supplies. None of these non-Western megacities have the capacity to produce the food and technology necessary to keep its populace alive. Without Western medicine and mechanized Western style agriculture those megacities will die of plague and hunger. It will not happen overnight, as the collapse of the West will not happen overnight. Western Europe is already gone, though its ghost lingers on. In fifty years an aging and enervated European White population will be overtaken by North African immigrants, and science will wither and die. In fifty years the United States will consist of enclaves of minority Whites, too busy defending themselves to defend anyone else. The United States Army will not be fighting house to house in Calcutta. Does anyone think the ten million people of Karachi can exist on the subsistence farming of the surrounding countryside, or survive the plagues that overcrowding and starvation will bring without Western medicine and pharmaceuticals? It will shake itself out, as it always has. Malthus only has to be right once. The spasm will come, it will last a hundred years, but the Earth will finally settle down to 10th century levels of population and technology. The world will rebound, for the books will still be there for those curious enough to read them, but it will not look much like the one we have now.

A mass extinction is the way
That nature compensates
For those who simply can’t obey
The warnings of the Fates

A Grim Understanding

We have to understand that the Left wants us to die, politically if they can do so more or less peacefully, in reality if we resist. Invective is all very well, but the raging, spittle-mouthed screeching of Hitler! and Fascism! directed at President Trump (and us) from the deranged Left has reached insanity levels. Emboldened rioting protesters will only escalate the violence until either they win or they are put down. There will be violence by the Left in their demonic drive to regain power over us, and it will be met with counter-violence. You may count on it; in the very near future a lefty Edmund Ruffin will pull the lanyard and the shooting will begin.

They want to put us all in chains
Made not of iron but written rules
Where nothing of free speech remains
And leftist truth is taught in schools
Re-education camps for those
Who dare resist the lefty line
And as for those who might well pose
A threat to them a box of pine
If leftist power is restored
If violence regains the crown
Conservatives will be marched toward
The cliffs and forced to leap and drown

Bjiology Be Damned

The Left is determined to eradicate the perception that men and women are different, a campaign so successful that a biological male can be a woman just by saying he is, or rather saying she is. The eradication of gender proceeds apace, despite the horrifying consequences apparent to everyone of rational mind. The consequences of college co-ed dorm rooms, the consequences of granting to grown male perverts the right to shower with little girls, the posting of women and teen aged girls to military combat units in the name of female equality, the denigration of motherhood and many other examples of gender nullification insanity bodes ill for the future. When confronted with the horror, most simply shrug and say the Left may be committing an atrocity, but they mean well. I don’t believe for one single moment that they mean well. I saw my neighbor Fred and complimented him on his summer frock, and he smiled and said,

I’m giddy as a teen aged girl
As woman I give life a whirl
Construction workers whistle as I walk
I smile demurely all the while
And non-aggressive, that’s my style
And notice how I lisp now when I talk
I love this cute designer dress
Although, my friend, I must confess
That high heels are not comfortable as yet
But when the operation’s done
I’ll be like every mother’s son
A woman and with hardly a regret
Of course as male I ruled the  house
A kind and gentle loving spouse
Who took his manly duties straight to heart
But now as woman I’ve no care
Except to see my new blond hair
Will stay in place as I work at my job
We sewer workers have it tough
We gripe and say enough’s enough
But as a woman I’m allowed to sob
I’ll quit the sewer business when
I find true love but all the men
I meet say I smell bad and look real weird
It’s not the baldness turns them off
And not the dry persistent cough
It seems the main objection is my beard


What if everything we believe today turns out to be junk science? When Paul Dirac was asked, ‘What is a proton?’ he filled a blackboard with mathematical symbols, pointed to a letter in the middle of the equation, and said, ‘That is a proton.’ How is that different from examining the entrails of a bird? I believe Dirac was saying the proton does not exist except as a part of a mathematical equation. In my fantasy novel Illusion I created a double universe, one universe of protons and another, oppositely charged universe of positrons, both universes existing side by side inside an electron, unaware of the existence of the other, all of this consistent with current quantum theory. Mathematics can be, and frequently is, adjusted to make the theory work. Newton and everyone else saw only five colors in a rainbow, but Newton could not make the math work until he created two unseen colors in the rainbow, orange and indigo, and because he was Newton, we believe to this day that those unseen colors must be there. Newtonian physics explained much, but not all, Quantum physics explains much, but not all. The successor to both will simplify and be testable. Only then will we know if the proton and the positron exist and possibly even answer the question ‘are they two separate particles or are they the same particle, simultaneously both proton and positron,’ and whether or not which it is at any given time depends on when and how it is observed. Until then, we are little advanced beyond the once believed science of augury.

With Newton apples were the core
Of scientific knowledge
That gravity is nothing more
Than what you’re told in college
The quantum seen as ghostly sarks
Reacts when you excite ‘em
Where quarks are made of smaller quarks
And on ad infinitum

The Last Magician

Is sudden brilliance revelation or intuition? Most would say the answer clearly is intuition. But what if what we think of as intuition is actually revelation, that the magicians were right and the scientists are wrong? What then? Did Newton, by reason, introduce to the world what we now call modern science or was it revealed to him? And if so, by whom or what?

The sun doth neither rise nor set
The Earth rotates and so we get
Illusion that the sun has moved in space
Copernicus though saw the truth
And said the sun sets not, forsooth
The Earth doth move while Sun remains in place
But was this truth before revealed
To ancients who saw a star field
As gods who spoke to men in garbled tongue
As revelation of divine
Intention noble or condign
And from such revelations magic sprung
Does revelation live today
Does magic still have much to say
About the universe and all of time
The last magician is the one
Who shows us that the gods have fun
By tantalizing us with garbled rhyme

The Blood Of The Dragon

It has been known for centuries that the body of the dragon is filled with fire and blood, and that when pierced by the tusks of its natural enemy, the elephant, the fire and blood spew out in noisome horror. Today’s dragon is the current version of the radical leftist Democrat Party, in which the bloated body is so filled with blood-red hatred and malice that when the elephant  gores the dragon with his tusks, hatred, malice, lies and anger spew out in a mass of stinking bloody sludge.

Oh noble beast of sacred tusk
Triumphant over dragons be
And keep us safe from dawn to dusk
Preserve this land from sea to sea
The dragon dead, its venom spent
Will yet arise and breathe again
And of his sins will not repent
But seek the dominance of men
Oh noble beast of sacred tusk
Bestride the dragon underfoot
And by your noble maddened musk
By dragon fire turn to soot
The body of the dragon slain
And to the wind disperse the vile
And horrid creature who would stain
The land with stinking, hateful bile


Sanctuary – from Sanctum Sanctorum, the Holy of Holies. In the Christian Church the sanctuary is where the altar is. In medieval times any miscreant who gained the sanctuary of the nearest church was safe from the ire of the king. San Francisco, among many other cities, has declared itself a sanctuary for criminal illegal aliens, keeping them safe from the brutal fascist Federal law enforcement. It would seem the only sanctum sanctorum in San Francisco is the gay bathhouse.

The Donald says he’ll cut off funds
To sanctuary cities
And that defiance of the law
Will lead to ringered titties
With giant rollers squeezing hard
On nippled sanctuaries
And causing much financial pain
Just ask the actuaries
Defiance lasts only so long
Then watch the cities holler
When Donald puts on them the hurt
And cuts off every dollar
We’ve got a sheriff now in town
Who doesn’t take no sasses
He’s got a six gun on his hip
And he’s for kicking asses