"Meeting people where they are" is good advice—unless they're in hell
Someone asked me how we resist.
The answer is, “be unreasonable.”
Reasonableness means splitting the difference, going half way, giving some to get some. And that’s all fine and well when things are all fine and well, when the range of possible choices is narrow, and when your counterparty’s morals and goals are a reasonable facsimile of your own.
No world could be more dramatically unfine and unwell than the world of the 21st century.
If you haven’t noticed, the financial system is collapsing before our eyes. World War III is one idiotic Joe Biden statement away. Parents and doctors are mutilating children’s genitals and chopping off young girls’ breasts for sport. The CIA is spying on you right now, and the FBI is preparing to raid your home, steal your belongings, and lock you up without trial forever, as they are now doing to anyone who tweeted against Pfizer. (Don’t worry, they’ll get to you. They have a long list and a perfect memory.) And the last two consecutive elections were decided by fraud.
Your world is anything but fine and well. Have nothing to do with it. Heed 1 John 2:15-17:
Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.
The post-industrial world is dying, and wants to suck your soul into hell when it goes.
Being unreasonable begins with caring less about the world and what happens to it. This is easy once you accept the fact that the post-industrial world is ending. If you’re a St. Louis Blues fan, you know the feeling. Once you accept that the Blues are not going to the playoffs, it becomes much easier to find something else to do when the game is on. And a loss doesn’t ruin your night. You watch with passionless interest, as if looking at a plastic grocery bag adrift in the wind.
Your interest in the fate of the world is deeper and broader than your interest in a sports team, I admit. But the psychological principle is the same: people lose interest in dying things. (“The world and its desires pass away.”) As soon as you realize it’s dying, you’ll feel less vested in its fate.
When I say “the post-industrial world,” I don’t mean the physical inventions that have come about in the last 70 years. I’m talking about the social, economic, legal, and political world that has evolved since World War II. And with them will go many of the social, economic, legal, and political constructs that existed long before World War II: the United States as a single country, for one, as I’ve been warning since July 2020.
As I write, the banking system is being nationalized. In other words, a year or two from now—maybe sooner—the only bank will be the US National Bank run by the smae people who gave us vaccine mandates. The government will give itself the power to approve or deny every financial transaction you try to make. With plans to ban non-digital currencies, you won’t be able buy a tube of Chapstik without Washington’s knowledge and permission.
Think about it: every single transaction will be scored by the same algorithms that blocked our tweets for four years. It’s happening now.
Since businesses can’t really operate without banks, we have indirectly nationalized all commerce. I’m old enough to remember when that was the definition of communism.
Government ownership of all businesses and financial transactions would certainly signal the end of the post-industrial world. It would also be an example of the end of pre-industrial normalcy. It would be hell on earth.
Well, we’re on the precipice of this hell on earth, and we got here by being reasonable.
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