Counter-Currents
3,916 words
NOTE: All names in this memoir are fictional.
Last year I went to a Christmas party in St. Louis, given by a communications group: a catch-all for filmmakers, directors, actors, screenwriters, and the usual wannabes. Having written an award-winning screenplay some years ago, I’m more be than wanna, but the candle of my fifteen minutes of local fame has long since burned out.
It was a subdued party in a subdued bar off of Arsenal Street, whose subdued brick perfectly captures St. Louis city’s . . . subduicity.
I parked my new used car on a side street, fearing getting sideswiped or carjacked. It was a darkened, empty neighborhood with winking Christmas lights here and there in front windows where long shadows and ominous emptiness incurred comparisons to a work by de Chirico or a scene in a film noir flick. I passed a street named Marmaduke, after John Marmaduke, a former Missouri governor who had been a Confederate general. I gloomily wondered when one of the woke would sniff this out, and Marmaduke street would be no more.
In the bar I entered a whiff of gaiety and loud talk as the show folk partied and jawed. Covid cancelled the parties for the previous two years, and the closing of theaters and the cancellation of film productions had devastated many of their incomes. I waved to Jan, a woman with dignified, well-earned wrinkles and a snow-white ponytail whose script-reading group had yet to return. St. Louis Public Library still refused to host social meetings.
I grabbed a beer, eyed the very modest snacks, and actually socialized, something I don’t do very well as I nodded to people I knew in theater and film, acquaintances for whom I had worked as a film extra or who I had drafted to read one of my scripts. There were the loud and roaring actors and the filmmakers, who were always buttonholing people to hawk their latest project or the usual years-in-stagnation script that only needed a few thousand dollars of funding, or perhaps a grant, to get made.
One of them, a local screenwriter, happily bragged about how he had sold scripts to Hallmark during bad times. At a summer meeting in 2020, he had almost grinned as others lamented their losses and months-long unemployment. “I got plenty of work,” he said, his teeth flashing. He also liked lording it over everyone about how Hallmark productions, those wonderful feel-good American scripts about family and romance, were shot in Canada, where it was possible to weasel around the Covid restrictions. He gloated about his “family” scripts, since he himself was homosexual with a black man for his “wife,” and they had adopted a kid from Africa. Like many people in the arts community, he always liked to think he was putting one over the rubes in the audience. I shrugged, sipped my lager, and took another chicken roll. I said the less but thought the more, as Shakespeare wrote.
All those projects and the hopeful talk around me: cards being exchanged, hands being shaken, projects being nodded to, scripts being pumped, projects being pitched for years, recalling childhood memories they all had of wanting to get something on film before an audience and the need to realize their dream . . . buoyant hopes that would be forgotten in the morning. I remembered all this energy and enthusiasm when I spoke with Bob Gale, the screenwriter of Back to the Future. He told me that Hollywood is the only place in the world where people die from encouragement.
They could die here, too.
But it was a happy evening. Everyone could cut loose, as Covid seemed to be stumbling and falling. No one wore masks, and that was a great relief to me.
Handshaking, once verboten, was now vigorously back in fashion. I recalled Anthony Fauci intoning at the start of the crisis that “probably, we will never shake hands again.” Now, we were once again becoming social creatures, recalling the Song of Solomon: “For lo, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone.”
Jan waved me to her as I threaded around knots of gabbling partygoers. Next to her was an older woman whose white, wavy white hair dropped to her small shoulders. Large glasses didn’t conceal open, caring eyes framed by wrinkles.
I spoke to Jan, listening to her describe the usual tribulations of her scriptwriting group, and as usual I did a lot of smiling and nodding, as I always do at loud parties because I can’t understand what anyone is saying, I have to shout to be heard, and after a few minutes my voice gives out. When Jan went to table-hop, the woman and I spoke. She was interested in me, since Jan had introduced me as an award-winning screenwriter. I am, or at least was. The script, like the vast majority that were spoken about and floated that evening, was stillborn, and will likely remain so.
“My Name is Karen,” the woman replied, “and I’m very interested in writing. I have a screenplay of my own.”
“Do you? What kind?”
She frowned. “I can’t hear you. I can’t hear anyone.”
I suggested we find a quiet corner as I got her a couple of pizza slices, and we looked around. There were no quiet corners. The party was in high voltage, and after a few attempts at conversation, Karen kept shrugging that she couldn’t hear me. We needed to talk, but somewhere else. Some other time. We traded e-mail addresses. She wanted to linger and speak to Jan. I had seen all I wanted to, and left, satisfied with Karen’s e-mail address snugly in my pocket. I hadn’t dated for almost two decades, and Annabella, my dear friend, died five years ago. Perhaps it was time to begin again.
After that night, e-mails came like a blizzard as Karen unloaded her life to me, and I unloaded mine to hers.
She was very loquacious in print and recalled an exotic life as an Army brat in Japan, then in Iran, where she was enrolled in an international school with classmates from a dozen nationalities. Karen was also a writer, struggling with a new manuscript, as well as a mathematician, having taught the same. She certainly came alive in print, and was anxious for us to have a meeting before Christmas, when family demands would naturally fill up her time.
I did like the Karen I read from my e-mails. But.
But?
She was a certain kind of intellectual, a teacher and cultured, her frame and tone recalling women I’d had like that before, and somehow, things always went wrong. A canker in the rose lurked somewhere, and I wondered when it would surface. I was interested in meeting her. We created a whirlwind of e-mails.
On paper, Karen bubbled about a great many interests and about her life growing up with the military. She loved Freud and adored him like some women adore Elvis. She was curious about my writing. I e-mailed her some work (including pieces published at Counter-Currents) and she was impressed. Karen enthusiastically talked of her own writing ambitions as well as her work in teaching mathematics, and injected math concepts into one of her plots. It was incomprehensible to most readers except for a Japanese woman. “She got it,” Karen proudly tapped on her keyboard.
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There was no doubt Karen’s intellect is more developed than mine. She was also far more cosmopolitan. She had married a Spaniard, and is now divorced. Her son was working on his Ph.D. in France. His thesis dealt with racism. That was my first warning. Then, Karen mentioned that her daughter had adopted two black boys as foster sons. I was starting to lose interest in her, as I could see the chasm opening between my worldview and hers. Then she sent an e-mail anxiously wanting to meet me, preferably in a coffee shop as opposed to a restaurant, since she prefers the bohemian aura of the former.
Karen enclosed a photo of herself with her two black foster grandsons, and again I saw my grandmother’s face and wrinkles, although Karen’s wavy wings of hair were not my grandmother’s coiffure. The two black kids — really tall, gangling adolescents rather than children — dampened what little enthusiasm I had left for her. But she really wanted to meet me before all the burdens of the Christmas holiday took over.
The next morning, I was busy doing errands and hurriedly buying and mailing a Christmas card to my brother in the hope that it made it before the 25th. (It did.) When I got home, I found two frantic messages from Karen. Oops, I’d forgotten to call her at noon, and it was now 1:30. I rang her up.
“Why did you forget me?” Her voice was thin but determined. “Is this on purpose?”
“I got busy. Sorry.”
She paused, probably thinking over forgiveness. “My second e-mail was about our getting together. I had to ask you questions about Covid.”
Ah, I thought, the vax question. Her high, measured voice continued.
“When we went to the party, I was . . . shocked at the way it was. No one was masked. All of that . . . socializing,” she said in wispy disapproval. “I wasn’t expecting that. If I had known . . .”
“I’m not vaccinated,” I said plainly. I saw it coming and decided to get it over with. You could almost see her eyes widen over the phone.
“You aren’t? You aren’t?” A could hear a quick gasp over the line. “That does it. I should never have carried things this far. It was a mistake to meet you.”
I found her shock at the party’s openness surprising. She certainly hadn’t objected to it that night, nor did she look frightened when I got her some pizza and we had talked.
We discussed Covid. I said it was being greatly exaggerated, and that while it certainly exists, it is probably a virulent strain of the flu.
“How can you say that?” she demanded. “It is far worse than that. I follow the science. Don’t you? You have to follow the science.”
Ah, I thought, the science.
Her conversation became a torrent of words that matched her rising voice. She reminded me that she is a mathematician, and thus she knows that we have to follow the science. It is our only hope.
“I think certain people use this virus to further an agenda,” I said.
“Where is your proof? Have you scientific proof to back that? I demand to see proof. E-mail me these ‘facts,’” she said in a tight voice that twisted into a sneer.
Rush Limbaugh once said that a trait of liberals and progressives is that when you argue with them, they always change the subject, and Karen was no different.
She then switched gears to January 6 and the “insurrection.”
“I suppose you supported those people trying to overthrow the government and destroy our democracy,” she said harshly. “The coup d’etat that Trump led — ”
“There was no coup,” I sighed. “It was all a set-up.”
“How can you say that? The mob was attacking the Capitol. Trump ordered them to — ”
“Look,” I said, “it was a set-up. The two big groups there, the Oath Keepers and Proud Boys, their leaders were FBI informants.”
She shouted down my reply. “No! Where is your proof? I demand factual verification! People like Schumer and Pelosi. They’re fighting to stop a dictatorship. They’re true democratic leaders.”
“Oh, come off it. They’re crooks like everyone else.”
“No! They’re honest politicians. They can’t be bought.”
“Everyone in Congress is bought. How would they have made it that high if they weren’t?”
Karen almost screamed at that idea, then switched again. “They’re fighting corruption!” Her attack deepened. “Fighting the people who tried to overthrow the government! All the people being killed by guns in this country, and Schumer and Pelosi are fighting gun violence. Gun owners who are joining with Trump to overthrow the government and stage a coup.” She took a deep breath. “Do you own a gun?” she demanded, her high pitch accusatory.
“No,” I said, and this seemed to catch her off-guard, but not for long.
“But all of what you believe in is unscientific. I’m a mathematician. I always deal in scientific facts.”
“Like Fauci? His ‘facts?’”
She exploded. “Fauci is a scientist! He has saved millions of lives.”
“You really believe that?”
“Show me factual evidence that he isn’t saving lives. Saving lives Trump destroyed. Trump killed hundreds of thousands of people. In New York, they buried hundreds of bodies in mass graves.”
“Really? Why didn’t we see that? Aside from a quick flash on the news, then nothing. Wouldn’t they show ‘hundreds of bodies’ if they existed? Then why was it that we sent a hospital ship there that remained empty? They established emergency spaces that were unused.”
Karen hesitated, then dove in. “I agree that ship was unused, because Trump’s policies murdered people before they could be saved!”
Before I could reply, Karen was surly. “In Sweden they didn’t follow the science. They went their own way. And what happened was that the virus went through the retirement homes. Killed thousands of old people. It wiped them out all over Sweden. They killed the old.” An excited breath came over the line. “The older generation is Sweden is gone. All gone in Sweden. All of them.”
“I see. Well, that’s sad if it happened.”
“Oh, it did! I can show you proof.”
Yes, I thought. Scientific. “Okay, but if this truly happened, if this Covid is that deadly, then at a point we’ll have to live with it. We can’t just pretend we’re going to destroy it. We’ll have to choose. Shall we end civilization, commerce, culture, education? Shut down our lives, warp those of our children and young people, to save a lot of older people? I’m old, too, but is it worth destroying a free society to do this?”
There was another silence from Karen, and then she lashed out. “Do you listen to FOX News?”
“I listen and read a number of sources.”
“Well, I listen to NPR! It’s the only true station.”
“Did it talk about Cuomo? Didn’t he send a lot of Covid patients into retirement homes? And many people there died –”
“No! Where is your scientific proof? What is your data? Cuomo saved thousands of lives!”
“No, he didn’t. Like Fauci, I think he’s a terrible administrator. Besides, remember AIDS? Fauci was in charge of combatting it, and he predicted AIDS would kill millions of people, and that we would never have normal sexual intercourse again — ”
“But he was right.” Karen was stern. “And you know, back then, I insisted every man I ever went with take an AIDS test.”
I shrugged, remembering a former girlfriend who had been much like Karen, except she had been kinder and soft-spoken, if no less doctrinaire. She had almost insisted I take an AIDS test, but my winning personality convinced her to forego it. That, and her itch for bedtime.
Before Karen turned up the volume even further, I decided to intervene. “Look, Karen, there’s no point to continuing this. It’s like it’s 1600, and one of us is Protestant and the other Catholic.”
Again, after a pause, Karen switched gears. “What about Elizabeth Warren? Do you think she’s a crook?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Impossible. She isn’t wealthy. She has a modest income, and she’s fighting for the poor.” Another deep breath over the line. “She’s honest.”
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I decided not to mention that Warren is known to have at least twelve million dollars. “Honest? She lied about her race to get into law school. How honest is that?”
Again, a pause from Karen, implying that something again did not compute.
She resumed the attack. “She’s trying to save America.”
“Like Pelosi and Schumer?”
“Yes. This country has been destroyed by Trump. He wrecked the economy. He’s killed hundreds of thousands of people. Biden is restoring our economy, and he’s trying to unite — ”
At that point, I started laughing. “Karen, do you seriously believe anything Biden says?”
The click of her hanging up was like a revolver cocking. I closed my flip phone, looking out the window at the placid December scene. Across a playing field, the streetcar rolled away from the platform. Sunlight dappled through naked branches while a skein of geese flew through the sky. I sighed at the calm afternoon peace, and exhaled.
I was glad Karen was out of my life.
* * *
I apologize if Karen’s tirade sounded one-dimensional, but it is, to the best of my memory, what she said, shouted, ranted. I wasn’t angry, although I was annoyed I had to raise my voice a couple of times just to break into her swift, high-pitched declarations about “science.” I recall women like that I’ve met in the past. At first I put up with their political and cultural views, freezing my smile and nodding. Why? Because, like most of us, I was younger and wanted sex, and so played the good boyfriend. After all, back then liberal women were generally slender and the artsy types were enjoyable to be around, sort of like a cast-off Woody Allen girlfriend. Making a political quietus was the price for passion.
Of course, 30 years ago, we were a more balanced society. Much of what Karen believes in was already there, it just wasn’t being so baldly stated yet. Trump and Covid unlocked an unbridgeable dividing line between people. Comparing it to the Reformation is pretty much on the money. There is no real point in arguing with Karens.
I remember some of the phrases I grew up with: Voltaire spuriously saying “Although I do not like what you say, I will defend to the death your right to say it”; and the well-worn phrase, “We shall agree to disagree.” I can’t imagine any of these humane taglines being used, let alone put into practice, any longer. We are not they, and they are not we, and they seem to want to get us under their thumb. A recent poll showed that 58% of all Democrats favored having unvaccinated people fined, confined to their homes, or even put in detention camps.
But we were pretty well sunk when Karen’s black foster grandkids came up. Her generation, the boomers, were liberal and progressive, but pretty much kept to the establishment’s social and racial mores, or at least paid lip service to them, even while trying to liberate society. Their children have no such compunctions. Also, most liberal boomer women were slim. Sexy. Too many of their kids are fat and have weird, cartoon-colored hair. It’s as though the end result of feminism is women becoming animated characters. I am woman, hear me Shrek.
As it is, I’m glad I listened to Karen and her problems in life: the troubled parental life, her medical difficulties, and her international upbringing. It confirmed my experience that the military, as I observed when I was in it, rather than being some hard-rock bench of American values is actually another branch of multiculturalism, since interracial marriage rates in the armed forces have long been high. All those Kansas farm boys seem to hook up with any Asian they can find, or whichever female is outside the base. In the 1930s, by contrast, American troops were forbidden to marry a non-white. If they did, as in the Philippines, they couldn’t return stateside with their wives.
I felt empathy with the third Karen, who was bitter about her medical ailments: the chronic back pain, medical bills, and her loss of a lung. She had said this happened when she was younger, because a doctor had made a mistake during an operation and the lung had to be removed. She became short of breath years later, when she mountain-climbing in Mexico. A Mexican doctor helped her. Karen claimed she hadn’t known she had lost a lung until this doctor told her. It sounded odd, but I didn’t doubt the pain and anger in her voice.
“That fucking doctor destroyed my lung,” she said, “and I could do nothing about it. This whole medical system is corrupt and incompetent. My life’s joys are curtailed by that shit and this system.”
“We can agree on that,” I said. “I think our medical system needs a lot of change. Too much corporate control is making things worse.”
“Yes,” Karen reluctantly agreed, surprised that I wasn’t, “like all Right-wingers,” in love with corporate anything.
“Much like my mother,” she sighed. “She died from a heart attack when I was 11. My father was an alcoholic. Everyone covered up for him. It was lousy.”
I agreed. Since my mother had also been an alcoholic, we were on familiar ground, dealing with the pathetic ways alcoholics try to hide their condition. That sad, bitter Karen was the one I felt empathy for. But when I mentioned that corporate pharmacy might have a stake in prolonging the Covid crisis and the almost dictatorial insistence on vaccines, she exploded. To Karen, Fauci was sacrosanct and, as a scientist, was holy. I’d heard of such people, but actually meeting one was chilling.
Once Karen was off the politics, she was interesting, urbane, and very inclusive, with much erudition and wisdom. I would do her no harm, but I don’t think people like her should be allowed one ounce of power. This kind, arts-loving, would-be writer and devotee of Freud has a Madame Defarge waiting to pop out. Karen and her kind might not do actual violence, but I could see her with a clipboard, wearing an armband and knocking on my door to have me relocated to an internment camp, her kind voice uttering that dreaded phrase, “It’s for your own good.” The police car is behind her, more than willing to make sure that I obey the state’s compassion for my personal welfare.
My comment to her about this being like 1600 sums up what I think of what’s going on. Covid brought a new kind of fanaticism and conformity that was probably waiting in the wings; a zeitgeist ready to happen. Many have discussed the present as being similar to the period just before the American Civil War, but I’m reminded of Germany from 1550 to 1619, just before the start of the Thirty Years’ War. Germany was prosperous, the conflicts between Protestant and Catholics seemingly under control, but in reality it was an armed truce that was soon broken when a Protestant attempting to rule the Kingdom of Bohemia led to an Imperial reaction that eradicated that Kingdom’s Protestant leanings. The authorities decided that, while they were at it, why not bring all of Germany back to the one, true Church? And the war was on.
Perhaps we’re seeing the advent of what Spengler called the rise of Caesarism, which is a symptom of a declining civilization. If so, we’ve yet to have a true Caesar. Obama, Fauci, and Biden just don’t fill the bill; nor did Trump.
Machiavelli might lament America’s lost possibilities: We have the sleaze and the slogans, his ghost might opine, but where is our Caesar? Maybe America is just too corrupt and debased to have true, ruthless power-mongers. No more Michael Corleones; now, all our system can cough up is a string of Fredos. A push somewhere, someplace, may bring a newer, better one to the forum. I’m sure Karen will be there, ideals and clipboard in hand.
* * *
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44 comments
Ah, so she was actually named Karen? Then I veto what I was about to type upon clicking this article, which was a rant about how Karen is overwhelmingly used as a slur against white Republican women.
Yes, Karen is more or less a racial insult for White women, but Karens are a real thing and they usually aren’t on our side.
The “Karen” slur is a tricky one for white advocates. Most white people in the western world shun our ideas. And yet we’re trying to save them in the demographic sense. As obnoxious as they are, the “Karen” personality type is not bad in and of itself. Their instincts just need to be channeled to enforce healthy behavior. Like most people, they submit to authority. The different is they are more fanatical about it.
you cannot “save” them, they will gather everyone / all your enemies into a mob and lead them to happily destroy you with a smile. Like the guy said, they will destroy while asking that you thank them for it and they are doing it for your own god. Ofcourse this is not just white women problem but a general women issue, as you can turn a woman against her family/ country and easily fold the civilization, its been done multiple times, its just that white women take sucidal altruism to 11, in a sense they are perfect acceleration without knowing that they are. As mentioned, women should not be involved in anything of substance, politics, religion finances, leadership. Follow the Amish they know what women should do and how much education they should receive, any deviation will result in your civ collapse.
Maybe the ultimate moral of the story is to avoid divorced women over 40.
Perhaps but the older you get, the less realistic that criteria is. I would actually say a single woman over 40 who hasn’t been married before is an even bigger red flag.
I live in a purple suburb of a deep blue city. My social circles primarily consist of married couples with school aged children. Without exception, the wives are far more outspoken and passionate about COVID, social justice, etc. Unless I prod, the men rarely bring up these issues in conversation. A lethal combination of feminism and weak men has inverted the traditional gender roles. Not long ago, it was considered improper for women to publicly discuss politics, especially in the company of men. Most of the men I know (even the ones that are right leaning), are subservient to their wives. I have a MAGA type buddy who makes a point of reminding me not bring up anything controversial if his left leaning wife is around. I have great sympathy for men navigating the dating area these days. Otherwise perfectly pleasant women could potentially be ticking time bombs. And unlike many of the men I know, “agree to disagree” is not in their lexicon.
ofcourse the men are subservient, otherwise the wife will divorce him and take his kids and turn him into two weekends a month dad. Fathers at this point are not even concerned about the loss of the house, 50% of assets + lawyers fees, they just dont want to lose access to the kids. a wife is a nuclear weapon that can go off anytime.
IF all you have to do is shutup and hope the detonation doesnt occur, thats a cheap price any rational person will pay, men are more rational on avg. Our rationality + state power (family court)turns us into such pathetic scum, and we have no choice in it.
I met my wife in college when I was 19 years old. She was not “based” at the time but she most certainly is now. Women are malleable but capturing them young is critical. Unless she grows up in an unabashedly conservative household and/or has a strong father, women will simply adhere to what the media/academia projects as normal. Western society is not geared toward early marriage but it’s the best chance an awakened man of the right has of imprinting traditional values upon his family. Even though my children are young, I’m wasting no time in their education.
A distorted sense of feminism has contributed much to this. It’s not wanting equal rights at all, its dominance of the agenda. Perhaps the men are stronger than you give credit… a too strong man is divorced and maybe paying a fortune in child support, giving up a house, vacations, dining out, earlier retirement. If you only have 1 child or none, then divorce is cheaper, but that’s hurting the reproduction rate. As Gavin highlights, women now are less happy than 50 years ago… Maybe it’s will lead to a breaking point and culture shift. As women of color have usurped many Karens from dictating the agenda, they are going to face even more competition from the left and the right… more unhappiness coming.
It’s certainly rational behavior in the short-run for men to appease their wives but the consequences in the aggregate and long-run are devastating. In my personal experience, the men don’t seem to even care one way or the other about these important issues.
As you said above, you married young. The crux for many is the unmarried “leftovers” are skewed to neurotic, difficult types (true of both genders, but the women more entitled). As leftist ideology is adopted by young women at ever earlier ages, the guys in their 20s have more of a struggle than prior generations (though silly to place blame on boomers rather than feminists who abuse power). Where a man is ‘weak’ vs. ‘temporarily appeasing’ vs. ‘equitable decision maker’ with women is a matter full of subtlety. Without turning this site into a manosphere blog, it’s worth ongoing exploration in a mature manner.
I don’t disagree with you about the challenges men face finding a good wife. However, men in the dissident circles often put too much blame on women and neglect to better themselves. They underestimate their ability to influence women. Western man is far too passive and this is a critical weakness we must own up to.
I’m with you, but the devil is in the details on the best way to not be bulldozed by your woman. “Be stronger” means a lot of different things. Well worth continual exploration.
This is the key issue, longer term. Most mainstream white liberals are inherently decent, productive people. But many have proven that they lack the ability to sufficiently perceive and understand reality.
The key challenge for the next iteration of Western society is to invent methods that prevent these people from acquiring influence, whether it be as a government official, an HR rep in a company, or an elementary school teacher. This requires a nation with a strong sense of what it stands for, and that does not allow unserious thought to undermine that, as has happened in the West.
It’s also interesting to read an essay from a storywriter, as opposed to the standard dissident writing. It’s reads differently; more luxuriant and roomier. I enjoyed it!
Another thing, the guy is wishing for Caeser, you cant have that because its inconvenient, why do you think The British East India company folded, they want it diffused with 1000’s of corp shells instead of one entity, just like democracy, you cant point a finger at any one person, since i was born, people always called the president an idiot and he isnt doing this or that, the bureaucracy runs everything atleast on the front end, i always thought that was funny, i always heard people say the president is so dumb for decades no matter who, and that is why democracy is such a beautiful {{ creation since it diffuses power with a literal front cutout to point all the problems at and vote them out in the next election and then be satisfied. The real problem is Humans, their behavior and psychology is easy to manage and unfortunately that cannot be changed, they are herd animals and pretty stupid as a group, and now there are 100’s of millions of them. Atleast back then a tribe of 100 to 150 people would work well, if you had an issue you could gather 5 or 10 people and voice concerns which was a significant percentage. If the tribe had too many stupid people they would die off, a perfect tradeoff, that hasnt been happening for several 1000 years now.
There is another fascinating problem that the author has alluded to, its very beautiful and simplistic, but like compound interest, the most powerful force in the universe.
Karens Parents born around 1940 – 50 –> liberal overtime due to print radio tv
Karen born 1970 > more liberal from education/media divorced -no fulltime father in son and daughters life
Karen’s Son born 1995 Even more liberal -> phd in racism antiwhite most likely
Karen’s daughter born 1995 even more lib/ education, cucks her own husband by willingly donating resources and time to raising non kin and racial enemies to boot.
I just pointed out 3 generations of destruction but thats just the past, lets go forward in time, what do you think Karens daughters biological children and her adopted kids will do that is not in white interests. What about her son, how many articles will mention his pHd thesis and snowball into more meta studies of said racism further hindering white interests. As you can see from this small example, white people dont need external enemies, they are destroying themselves in this family since before 1940 and there are millions of families just like this, now think about all the millions murdered since 1900, all those young men in the meat grinder.
The dissident right tends to lay the majority of blame upon the boomers for our precipitous decline but the parents that raised them should not be left off the hook. I agree that TV (and to a lesser extent the radio) was the single greatest weapon used by the left to infiltrate the family. The silent generation had a tremendous amount of trust in our institutions. If they were paying closer attention, perhaps they could have better defended our civilization. Though each successive generation is worse, we must maintain belief that we’re near peak insanity. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be here supporting Counter Currents.
NO, things will continually degrade slowly, unfortunately i dont see an end, if there was some kind of bottleneck in food for example or entertainment or even money, it could end, but that is no longer the case, with automated tractors, seeders and harvesters corporate farms can literally run themselves and provide unlimited cheap food with very minimal local fixers and offshore tech people, cheap entertainment is available for the next several millennia already, and money is limitless, its not like its minted gold coins which have some ceiling in supply terms.
We are seeing the rise of the conditions to accelerate “Ceaserism”, however, it will be some ten years or so before we actually see the rise of an Emperor of Man.
Of course, some would say that our current coalition among the Dissident sphere will be unable to seize power as our divisive politics and ideas are too uncomfortable for normies. But I can attest that no man of great and terrible purpose will come from the conservatives or from the Libertarians, as both are too weakened from the culture war to stand a chance. The Crazies are too unstable to support a figure like that as they will have to be immensely intelligent and patient–traits of which the Managerial Elite no longer possess with abundance, and as seems evident to us, they’re genetic lottery is going to run out in the next ten or twenty years.
In the interim, we bide our time, build our communities, become skilled at statecraft(on the local or unofficial level), write down concrete objectives and goals, and continue to advocate for the ethnostate.
The Karens of the world will fall in line when everyone else does; Fauci and The SCIENCE will be gone in a decade and they will fall into irrelevance and old age.
Stay strong and keep fighting the good fight!
Seize power, probably not. But be an effective voting bloc? Yes! If politicians know they best keep some of these interests in mind (all the while avoiding charged language) they will tip their hat a little. It starts there.
Hear, hear!
I’m in my early 50’s now, but I remember when I was about 17 or 18 and walking into pubs in Sydney during the daytime (I was a shift worker). I remember seeing what I thought were ‘old’ men either sitting alone or with a friend or two and thinking to myself, “wow, I feel sorry for these guys, they look really lonely”. … And perhaps some were, but as I got older, I realized these guys were there to either get some peace and quiet, or were just happy to be in a mostly male environment where they felt free to be themselves. Many of these old pubs also still had a ‘ladies lounge’ attached separated by a glass door, so women could also talk freely among themselves if they wanted to visit, away from the ‘bad language’ and men’s talk of work.
There is still this kind of atmosphere if one goes to any working class pub in Australia, (although the ladies lounge is probably long gone) especially if you work close and staff get to recognize and know you. I like the simple things in life, and to me there is nothing more pleasing than walking in through the door of your local, catching the barmaid’s eye and your regular beer being poured for you without a word being spoken. In fact, my father’s local pub placed a plaque on the table where he sat for the last four decades after his death, showing their respect to the man.
I guess after rambling, my point is, you don’t need to waste time on potential friends/partners who do not share your view of the world. It’s tiring, frustrating, and usually a waste of time. I would much rather go to a pub, put a few bets on the horses, listen to Led Zeppelin on the jukebox and laugh with a few good friends, than listen to someone talking about covid measures or Freud. Working class men and women who enjoy the arts are much better company than the women you mentioned. You dodged a bullet.
Your recollections of Australia sound very much like this excellent film:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLUIi02FMK0
More my fathers generation/time, but some aspects still when I was growing up. I did have a similar incident with playing ‘two-up’ one Anzac Day. The coins came down on my head after I tossed them in the air. … The crowd was not very happy.
Australia is a funny place. I have driven across it 3 or 4 times and been to all the states and territories. Obviously it feels like home to me as I grew up there, but it does have a surreal quality about it, especially in the outback with the heat and the solitude. I have seen the Big Sky of Montana in the US, Australia has some mighty big blue sky also.
She sounds like my sisters. All bright and intelligent and yet unrelenting in the firmness of their belief in their truth. In my most recent conversation with my eldest, she inquired if I had been vaccinated. As if what I do with my life half a country apart makes a difference? They’re left coast I’m Missouri. I did get vaccinated but I also strongly support the choice not to get it. I feel the same way about guns. I don’t have one but I’m glad some of my neighbors do. I don’t anticipate blm ever marching through my neighborhood.
Hilarious! I definitely dated one like her. She kept pursing you after you had sent her your writings from CC? She did have one lung and depending what else she has going on she might have some concerns about even the flu or pneumococcal pneumonia. But she showed up to the bar and hung out without a mask may suggest loneliness trumped her ideals. It presents a dilemma for those in between companions… does one be open to short-term sensual experience with such a person? Long term relationship Karen will abuse power. Marry her and she’ll ruin you. And I image I’d rather suffer a Hallmark movie than her script.
By the time a woman is 40, if she’s never been married it’s likely for a number of reasons that don’t place her high on a desirable list (true to some extent for the men as well). So divorced women may be of higher caliber… though there may be some personality issues of why they are divorced.
Trump whipped up and mobilized the liberals to a degree I couldn’t imagine. As Hillary Clinton was too hated to be elected, Trump is likely similarly too despised to have little use other than splitting the vote on the right.
To interject into the comments: When I submitted my article, I stated in the first paragraph that all names in this piece were fictional. That became omitted.
As for Karen, I find it interesting that a “Karen” is used all over the talk show and right-wing circuit to define what in the past was called a meddling busybody.
But Wikipedia only defines a Karen as a right-wing woman opposing vaccinations and masks. I’ve never heard it defined that way before. It shows that now, for all practical purposes, we and they are speaking two different languages.
It was noted during the Cold War that East and West Germany had changed their languages to a large extent. The East was full of politically correct terms and ideological obfuscation, while the West was hideously Americanized. It didn’t stop both countries from uniting once the shackles came off in 1990, but we can see how much of America and the West are losing the ability to simply communicate with opposing sides.
Wikipedia is a leftist echo chamber. An actual “Karen” would yell at you for not wearing a mask.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karen_(slang)
I don’t have too much problem with the general description other than the criticisms of it. It’s not directed at all women, just a certain entitled type who uses a histrionic style of victimhood to be get her way. Ironic then that they claim the slang term is to “control” women. No, as the left would say, it demands “accountability”.
Can disparate cultures be re-united? I recommend “A Perfect Crime” (2020), covering the unsolved 1991 murder of Rohwedder, an administrator integrating the East and West German economies. It’s much deeper that it may sound, detailing the painful obstacles for re-joining disparate ideologies, and of broad relevance.
I don’t know if I find this story truly believable. Who would put up with so much ranting verbal idiocy from somebody they hadn’t even had sex with? It’s like being in a relationship without even ever getting the good parts.
Which actually does sum up a lot of female supremacy in the mainstream media too; all those sexually frustrated, angry, bitter, manhating feminist columnists madly ranting about men and how they are not going to have kids.
Indeed, dear – because no man with even a slight modicum of self-respect is going to put up with your tiresome, bitter, misandristic screeching and ranting and wannabe-castrating whining for more than ten seconds. Life’s too short. Sounds like the writer dodged a bullet here.
I find the story 100 per cent believable. I’ve lived out versions of it myself. One girl I dated off and on for a few years was drop dead gorgeous, but just as liberal. Every time she reached out I went back, believing that our debates had echoed in her head and caused an epiphany. I wanted that to be true and nothing else made sense. Nope. Liberals wouldn’t be liberals without the ability to unsee and forget.
Today she’s in her 40’s, been married briefly twice, but chronically single in spite of making a comfortable salary and looking like a movie star. Her looks are on the wane because she’s turned to the bottle (still beautiful but looks older than her years) and is on the fast track to being a miserable old cat lady with an NPR tote bag
Hal: I can assure you everything Karen said was real, and she was very believable.
As it was, I only endured a phone conversation, and all was done for the gentle reader’s sake. As I made clear, what I find of interest to us is how vocal and unhinged these people are. They feel very cocky and assertive, and, instead of reading or hearing about “Karen”, I met the real deal. She was good copy.
There are women I knew and had a friendship with, but since Covid and Trump there is no more point to speaking to them. Another article in embryo?
I was actually kind of joking, to be honest, joking round in a guy sort of way. I know these women are real, met some of them myself. And can’t stand them.
What we are witnessing is a flight from freedom by the people have the most freedom of all: Upper-class White women. Erich Fromm diagnosed the appearance of this mania. In fact, he diagnosed its appearance precisely among the most affluent and liberated.
Interesting comment. They hate being free, and have an innate need to be dominated. They push every button they can, trying to get a reaction, and to find a man who will tell them to shut up. Because they clearly have not heard that enough in their lives, and don’t respect them effete, feminised ‘men’ round them. I remember Jordan Peterson, who I am no great fan of (but found his treatment at the hands of the manhating harpies deplorable), musing that the success of the worthless 50 Shades of Grey books meant that they had tapped into a need to be dominated, in a literal S&M and a figurative sense, in some Western women. What use is all this freedom without a family? You can shout at your cats and on the net at anybody who will read it, or watch it on Youtube, but ultimately – who cares?
‘Freedom’ is kind of an illusion. It’s a good illusion but an illusion nonetheless. It’s also protean in that ‘freedom’ means different things to different people. (Which is why it is central to much Western propaganda.) Being an upper-class White woman is like being in a sensory deprivation tank as far as criticism is concerned. But the absence of input does not mean the elimination of the reality. (A problem for elites in general. See Jean Baudrillards’ In the Shadow of the Silent Majorities for interesting details.) And, however it appears from the outside, there is a countervailing craving for reality as much as there is for illusion. The human mind was not designed to exist on a steady diet of lies (no matter how it seems some days).
Being a Jew, Fromm presented all ‘escapes from freedom’ as directed toward ‘right-wing totalitarianism’ and the masses desire to give away their ‘freedom’ to ‘right-wing demagogues’. But, it turns out that upper-class White women are the who crave obedience to authority…and demand it of others. Fromm would be happy, though, to be a little bit wrong. As long as White people are suffering, Fromm would have his schadenfreude.
If you really cared about Karen, it would be a good idea to introduce her to your identitarian circle. It would have an effect on her. A woman absolutely hates having to argue with everyone and being a complete outsider in her environment. It changes lifestyles and opinions very quickly. My friend’s black metal helped a lot in this regard. He dated a very intelligent SJW and started taking her to black metal concerts and among the nationalist black metal subculture. He recently married her and she’s helping him with a far right occult label.
A woman absolutely hates having to argue with everyone and being a complete outsider in her environment.
Yes. … To put it very crudely, a woman will treat a weaker man like an emotional tampon and unload on him, while he holds out for a possibility of sexual contact. If a woman is included into the group with a stronger male as support, she will be more open to other ideas and opinions. …
I agree with the author though, at this stage in my life, I have no time for this type of stuff either. It’s too tiring for me to talk to women like this.
Ondrej Mann:
“If you really cared about Karen…” but you see, Ondrej, I don’t. Oscar Wilde said “life is too short to learn German.” Change ‘German’ to ‘trying to make a Karen see the light of day’, and you have my feelings.
You’re a talented illustrator. In some ways, your drawings remind me of Egon Schiele. Do you have a website with drawings or a portfolio?
Ondrej: Thank you for the compliment. I do a lot of drawing, although I don’t think it’s great…good, but not great. I never learned to ink of shade. I appreciate the comparison to Schiele, although I don’t consciously imitate him. I usually veer more to Terry Moore (Strangers in Paradise, Echo), Cruikshank, and Thackeray. and I’d like to try doing my stuff in color. I do enjoy Schiele’s colors, and he reminds me of Klimt in some ways.
I don’t have a website, but that will change soon, as I’m self-publishing, and expect a bevy of works to blossom out to ye gentle reader (who I hope would become ye gentle purchaser). I’m working on a cover for a novel of mine partly illustrated by me, and if I get the inking resolved, go for illustrating a historical romance novel, The Rogue and the Jade…a sort of Jane Austen meets Xena, Warrior Princess.
Stay tuned.
Karen has no one she admires more than Freud, say no more. I’ve got $100 that says Karen doesn’t fear God. She measures herself against what’s popular and right now that is virtue signaling. “I have two black sons so I CANT BE RACIST!” Her own biological son spends his time doing the same.
while I am glad our author dodged this bullet, I feel truly sorry for the sad ex husband, likely still paying for all three boys who will never amount to anything. Karen wouldn’t hear of it!
The thing I can’t comprehend is why anyone would bother having a long-drawn out conversation with someone like that the moment they’ve been sussed out? I would have totally disengaged from these ideological zealots (that’s what they are afterall) as soon as I saw the absurd photo of her with her two “grandsons”.
Why waste the time and energy talking to these dregs to begin with?
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