A special note: today’s SubscribeStar Saturdayis probably the most important essay I’ve written this year. I encourage to read it with your subscription of $1/mo. or more. If you’re unable to pitch in, send me a message and I’ll e-mail you a PDF.
Over the past couple of weeks, the stakes of the culture war have really hit home for me. As I wrote last weekend, the “misinformation gap” between regular voters and reality seems overwhelming.
I’ve long held that building individual relationships can change lives, and can undo a great deal of brainwashing, and I have anecdotal proof: through patient dialogue and loving guidance (and prayer), I helped guide a former student away from progressive extremism and bisexuality (it was a male student, so it’s impossible for him to be truly bisexual, anyway). He’s now a girl-loving populist and, while he’s not totally on the Trump Train, he’s longer a Bernie Bro.
But that kind of patient, incremental relationship-building, while critical, is too slow for our present crisis. It’s also incredibly wearying because it’s so labor-intensive, and because of the immensity of the project: there’s a lot of brainwashing to undo, and most of what needs to be unwashed is quite subtle.
I’ve been pondering an important problem facing conservatives and the Dissident Right this week: the preponderance of misinformation percolating in the media and, by extension, the culture more generally. My perception—based on personal experience, reading the scene, and the mere fact that anyone is still voting for gun-stealing baby killers—is that there exists a major misinformation gap between most Americans and the Truth.
While it seems that more and more Americans are gradually taking the proverbial “red pill” and are awakening to the grim reality of progressive cultural and political dominance, most are still blissfully ignorant of what is happening to the country. High-profile events or issues—a terrorist attack, for example, or a kid tranny giving lap dances to grown men—can stir the masses temporarily, but there’s no thoughtful connection of such events to the broader cultural, political, and historical context.
I’ve been awash in local boosterism lately. As a Jeffersonian at heart (especially now that I’m a freehold yeoman farmer, what with my single fig tree, twenty yards of grapevines, and drooping pecan trees), small town, rural living appeals to me at a deep level. I am, like most Americans, infected with the bug of urgent nationalism, as it seems that every major problem is a national issue (due, in no small part, to two centuries of centralization and the breakdown of federalism), but I increasingly seek to think and act locally. That’s where the most immediate and substantial changes to our lives occur.
The slow summer news cycle has seen me engaging in a bit more navel-gazing this summer, and thinking more about the things that matter in life: our towns and communities; good books and music; friends and family. Cultural issues are, potentially, political; as the late Andrew Breitbart often said, politics is downstream from culture. Books, music, and movies matter, and the local level is the best place to see culture in action.
All of that armchair philosophizing aside, this week’s Lazy Sunday looks back at some posts about small town life, both in Lamar and Aiken. Enjoy!
“Hump Day Hoax” – This post is one of this blog’s most popular, in part because I shared the link to it in the comments section on a major right-wing news website. It’s a somewhat unfortunate example of small town politicking gone wrong. The mayor of my little adopted hometown, Lamar, is a very sweet lady, and she seems genuinely interested in improving our town, but she scuttled those endearing efforts when she ran straight to Newsweek claiming that her vehicle had been vandalized as part of a hate crime. It turns out the mysterious, sticky yellow substance on her car… was pollen.Initially, I thought she was opportunistically trying to gain some grace on the cheap, as the Jussie Smollett hoax was then-current in the news. After talking it over with some folks, I’m thinking now it’s more of an example of a deep paranoia among some black Americans who are, essentially, brainwashed from birth into believing they are the constant targets of hate crimes from vindictive whites. Coupled with—sadly—a certain degree of stupidity—how can you have lived in the South for decades and not know what pollen looks like?!—it makes for an embarrassing mix.
“Egg Scramble Scrambled” – Every April, Lamar hosts a big festival, the Egg Scramble, that attracts around 6000 people to town. Keep in mind, Lamar’s population sits just south of 1000, so that many people at once creates a huge influx of cash into the local economy. It’s a big deal. I was out of town for the Scramble this year, but I was looking up news about it when I discovered it had been ended early due to a fight.It was only later that I learned there was gang activity (my initial thought in the post was that some hooligans just got out of hand, and the police shut the down the event to avoid any future roughhousing), with shots fired. It doesn’t appear anyone was hurt, but, boy, did this story get buried fast. It was only from talking to neighbors that I got a more complete picture.
I am, perhaps, not acquitting my adopted home town well. It really is a lovely—and very cheap—place to live. I suppose I’ll have to write a more favorable account of Lamar life soon to make up for these two negative portrayals.
“250th Day Update” – This post is a bit of a stretch for this week’s theme, but it includes a hodge-podge of updates that, in one way or another, connect to small town life: high school football games, local festivals, relaxing holidays, and the like. Those little things are what make life colorful, and enjoyable—and they’re the things that truly matter. Read the update for more.
“Aiken Amblings” – A late-night SubscribeStar Saturday post, this subscriber-exclusive post details my visit to Aiken’s Makin’, Aiken’s long-running crafts festival. It’s probably the best example of local boosterism I’ve ever experienced personally, and I am surely a booster for it. It also didn’t devolve into gangland violence, so that’s a plus. For just $1, you can read the full account—and all of the other great pieces on my SubscribeStar page!
That’s it for this Lazy Sunday. I’m hoping to check out Yemassee‘s Shrimp Festival later this month (September 19-21), schedule-permitting. As the days shorten and the weather slowly cools, it’s time to get out to some local festivals in some small, rural towns.
It’s been quite a nice week, Hurricane Dorian notwithstanding. Last night I called my first varsity football game (I’ve been calling junior varsity games for a few years now), and I am eternally grateful to the eagle-eyed coaches in the pressbox who fed me some of my best lines.
After the game—a blowout of such proportions that the second half instituted a “running clock,” which meant an abbreviated evening for yours portly—I drove to my hometown of Aiken, in the western part of South Carolina. My destination for the weekend: the large arts and crafts fair known as Aiken’s Makin’.
It’s Labor Day Weekend, which means a glorious three days of rusticating for yours portly. The school year is back in full swing, but I’ve been slowly recovering from an extended cold that began as a sore throat, morphed into days of nose-blowing, and metastasized into a hacking cough. The cough should—God willing—be the final phase, and it seems to be getting better with a combination of Mucinex, expired cough medicine, and rest.
The plan this weekend is—aside from some light grading—a lot of rest. I’m also excited to watch the South Carolina Gamecocks play their season opener (kick-off is tantalizingly close as I write this post). My girlfriend has come up to my little adopted hometown, and is feeding me all sorts of delicious things. It’s a fairly idyllic weekend, minus the cough.
It’s these sorts of things—resting after a week of hard work, enjoying a good meal, reading interesting books, and watching college football (all with good company, of course)—that make social peace such a coveted prize, and so worth preserving. There is so much hatred and insanity in the public square now, and I fear that the socket wrench of revolution is ratcheting up with ever-greater intensity.
This past weekend’s SubscribeStar Saturday post was delayed until Sunday evening. The end of the first week of school, followed by a very late night/early morning drive, with that followed up by a long day of family events, meant that my perfect attendance record for Saturday posts had to suffer.
Robert Kennedy was a strong contender for the Democratic Party primary in 1968, especially among the progressive wing, before Sirhan Sirhan, a Palestinian terrorist, shot him. His death left Vice President Hubert Humphrey as the only viable candidate. Remember, LBJ declined to run for reelection in 1968 because the Vietnam War was so deeply unpopular among antiwar Democrats, many of whom were radicals who were exerting greater control over their party (sound familiar?).
The Democratic National Convention devolved into riots and chaos, with Humphrey nearly succumbing to tear gas in his Chicago hotel room. Humphrey managed to close the gap with Nixon, but it was a three-way race (with segregationist George Wallace, Governor of Alabama, running as a third party candidate), and Nixon won on a law and order platform.
The first week of the new school year is in the books. It was exhausting, but fulfilling—a great reminder why I teach.
Last night our football team played its home opener. I run sound for the cheerleaders and announcer, so I attend until the end, bitter or otherwise (last night, unfortunately, was bitter, but the boys played well the entire game). Afterwards, I drove through some rain to get to my hometown around 12:30 AM, and have been spending time with the niece and nephews today.
I’m also attending an appreciation banquet for a missionary organization my aunt and uncle are involved with (they’re career missionaries in Honduras). There are some powerful stories of how Christ is changing lives in South and Central America.
So, the regular SubscribeStar Saturday post is delayed until tomorrow. Apologies to subscribers for the delay.
I’ve been fan-boying a great deal lately about Richard Weaver. He’s one of my favorite authors, even though I’ve read comparatively little of his work. Weaver died during the prime of his academic career, but before his premature death he managed to bequeath a rich heritage of scholarly works about literature, religion, and his beloved Dixie.
As I’ve written again and again, I always enjoy rereading the introduction to Weaver’s Ideas Have Consequences, and hope to reread the entire book again soon. The introduction sums up the modern West’s maladies starkly and clearly, tracing their origins to the nominalism of William of Occam.
I found one podcast in which two conservative commentators summarize and discuss the book, chapter-by-chapter; it’s a good, quick overview if you’ve got fifty minutes in the car:
That said, while I reference Weaver quite a bit, I actually have not written as many posts about him and his work as I thought. Nevertheless, while I’m in the midst of my annual Weaver Fest, I thought it would be the perfect time to give the great academic his own Lazy Sunday:
1.) “Capitalism Needs Social Conservatism” – a #TBT post from the TPP 2.0 era, this post was part of a series on social conservatism, which I dubbed the “red-headed stepchild” of modern conservatism. The post is more inspired by Weaver than it is about him, but I mention the paradox of prosperity near the end when I discuss Weaver’s drunk.
That’s my phrase for a metaphor Weaver employs near the end of the introduction to Ideas Have Consequences in which he compares modern society to a drunk. The more inebriated and alcoholic the drunk becomes, the less capable he is of doing the work necessary to feed his addiction. So it is with modern man—the more he luxuriates in excess and comfort, the less willing he is to do the uncomfortable work necessary to sustain his opulence.
2.) “Back to School with Richard Weaver” – the subject of last Thursday’s TBT, this little piece was from a 2014 Facebook post in which I quoted from “The South and the American Union,” an essay from Weaver’s Southern Essays. It contrasts the Southerner’s “Apollonian” worldview of fixed limits and “permanent settlement” to the ceaseless striving and progression of the Northern, “Faustian” worldview. It’s a fascinating dichotomy that, while controversial, certainly rings true to Southerners like yours portly.
3.) “The Portly Politico Summer Reading List 2016” – my classic, original reading list; naturally, Ideas Have Consequences tops the list! As I wrote at the time, if you’re going to read just one book this summer, make it Ideas Have Consequences!
Fortunately, I do not teach in corrupt, inner-city New York City public and magnet schools helmed by incompetent administrators; nevertheless, some of the underlying problems Ms. Hudson faced are universal for educators in all settings and all across the country. I teach at a small private school in rural South Carolina—about as distant from the bustling, crammed schools of urban America as one can get—and still see some of the same issues that faced Ms. Hudson at work.
Summer is drawing to a close, and with it free time for reading. One of my enduring frustrations as a student was the lack of time to read what I enjoyed (even though my English and history courses in high school and college often presented me the opportunity to read many excellent works).
As an adult, the situation has improved only marginally, as work often eats up most of my time, both during the day and at night. As a blogger and politics junkie, I also tend to read vast quantities of quick news stories and opinion pieces, while neglecting longer-form works that would be more satisfying.
Reading short articles on the Internet is like scarfing down a box of Cheez-Its: it’s enjoyable in the moment, but it just raises my blood pressure and leaves me unfilled: an unhealthy indulgence in large quantities. A good book, or even a well-crafted short story, is like a steak dinner: filling, satisfying, and sustaining.
I’ve released two reading lists, in 2016 and 2019 (the full 2019 list is a SubscribeStar exclusive), but I thought this Sunday I’d feature some recent posts on books, short stories, and pieces I’ve enjoyed:
“McClay & Sheaffer on American History” – This piece examines a new American history textbook from Wilfred McClay, who once mailed me a copy of the Italian novel The Leopard after I wrote to him (he’d written about the book for a conservative publication). My girlfriend’s father actually owns a copy of this book, and I had an opportunity to flip through its glossy pages while in New Jersey. My post offers up an analysis of the state of American history education.
“Summer Reading: The Story of Yankee Whaling” – I was still in the process of reading The Story of Yankee Whaling, a fascinating account of America’s whaling heyday aimed at younger readers, when I wrote this post. It was a charming—and hugely informative—book, which gave me access to an entire forgotten industry and its role in American history. The book dealt with its subjects sympathetically and unapologetically; there is no hand-wringing about whether or not it was right to kill whales for their blubbery oil. Instead, it simply detailed—and what thrilling detail!—the tough lives of whalers, and the gory particulars of their bloody, necessary trade.
“Reblog: Conan the Southerner?” – This post dealt with an interesting piece from the Abbeville Institute, a Southern history website with a strong Jeffersonian streak. The original post details the influence of rural Texas and its mores upon the creation of the Conan the Barbarian character. Strength, honor, integrity, hard work—these are the hard-won morals of the titular barbarian king, and they are deeply rooted in the Southern tradition.
“Rudyard Kipling’s ‘The Mother Hive’” – my History of Conservative Thought class read this chilling short story one morning as an icebreaker. It’s about the insidious infiltration of a dangerous foreign element into a proud but aging beehive. The infiltrator—a wax-moth—fills the heads of the young bees with abstract claims of a utopian society, all-the-while laying its eggs and creating great strains on the hive. Fewer healthy bees are born, much less willing to work to support the colony, so more and more work is shouldered by a diminishing number of healthy workers. It all ends in a fiery blaze, with hope for the future, as a young Princess and her loyal retinue escape to rebuild. Written in 1908, the story sounds like it describes the modern West today—a terrifying warning that, I fear, we have not heeded.
So, there you have it. A little extra summertime reading for you before the academic year resumes. Teachers at my school report back in the morning, and students are in the following week. Yikes! Where did the summer go?