When was the last time you read a label? Any label: box, can, package, clothing, linen, book, tool, furniture, statue, painting; everything has a label these days. Labels are as ubiquitous as the coronavirus, perhaps more so since not everyone has the virus but nearly everything else has a label … or two … or three. But do you ever bother to read what is on the label, really read what is printed there?
Rare are the great ideas; the most common are trivial, harmless, rather banal; not every idea a good one. There are, as we must surely recognize through common sense and exposure, an overabundance of bad ideas generated by the overwhelming mass of humanity[1] every day. Among those bad ideas far too many can be classified as highly infectious idea pathogens, according to Gad Saad, evolutionary psychologist. These bad ideas—cancel culture, erasing biology, and safe spaces, to name three, there are many more—can be likened to brain parasites, which take hold and often lead hosts to bizarre, self-damaging, and fatal behavior.
Hello, my name is Chuck, and I am a book junkie. I am addicted to books—and magazines, newsletters, newspapers, eBooks, eMagazines, blogs, posts, posters, labels on bottles, boxes and cans, even clothing tags for heaven’s sake; I get a high every time I find something new to read and I simply cannot quit acquiring anything with print upon a surface.
A philosopher friend once prefaced a question to Karol Wojtyla (Pope Saint John Paul II) “Evil sometimes seems omnipotent, it seems to exercise absolute dominion over the world. In your view, Holy Father, does there exist a threshold that evil is unable to cross?” His answer was straight from his own lived experience and it is telling and terrifying, yet offers hope, something for which we should all give serious attention.
An Orwellian ill wind is ablowin’ across the land; you can see it, taste it, touch it, but beware! Like acid it blinds the eye, dulls the tongue, numbs the hand and stills the tell-tale heart. Some may rightly claim this “hate” speech because it speaks of disturbing, unpleasant truths, truths still true no matter how much you demand them not. You can mask yourself against the bitter blow or stay the distance as prescribed, the insouciant wind cares not a whit for such feeble nonsense.
Progress has never had much to say for itself, though it has all too much to say for your lack of it. The progressive, no doubt, will complain of the severe inconvenience of pausing long enough to assess the damage his progress has wrought. There is always more progress to be made, so little time to explain its value. It has always been a mystery the necessity of always progressing; what precisely is so wrong with status quo? Why not stop and prune the roses instead of replacing the bush with marigolds or collard greens? My truck will soon be old enough to drive itself, my car, eligible for Medicare; the new are seldom better, just shinier, and a great deal more expensive. If that is progress, I will leave you to it. I am old and old things suit me just fine and dandy; besides they are mine, clear and paid for.
Given the terrifying behavior of the tech giants Facebook and Twitter to lock out any mention of the latest scandal associated with Joe and Hunter Biden evidenced in a New York Post report, I feel compelled to admit, “I told you so” back in March of 2018[1]. Anyone with a pea brain could see it coming but no one cared then, and no one seems to care now. Actually, that may not be so today because no one knows what has happened because of the massive mind-warping that has occurred over the last few years. This is NOT Science Fiction, folks. This is scary real.
Yesterday ended too soon. Daylight is shrinking though where it has shrunk is anybody’s guess. Later comes sooner than later which saves the worm an early demise. Early to bed makes the day shorter, early to rise gets the worm, though it sure seems odd to lop off one end then tack it to the other. This my friends is what happens when the day starts off late and ends far later.
Imagine for a moment. Imagine choosing between door #1 and door #2; both identical in size and color, just two doors side by side, utterly unremarkable in every way. You must choose to open one, knowing whichever one you choose will impact everything: your life, your family, your friends, and everything you hold dear. There is a key which will unlock each door, it is in a box in front of you. Within each box there is a manuscript with the key. Each manuscript provides instructions to unlock the door and describes what is to be found behind the door. Spend all the time you need to read both manuscripts; read with the utmost care for your life and the lives of those you love depends upon which door you choose to open for there can be no returning.
As legend has it, George Washington, in his youth, admitted, “I cannot tell a lie. I did, I did chop down that cherry tree.” Now, why he wielded axe to such a pithy blossom must remain a mystery. Yet, truth be told—it is a morality tale, after all—strict adherence to truth is the severest form of virtue; to lie, no matter size nor reason, brings the liar low, truth elevates the soul toward the divine.
