TBT: The Joys of Fasting

1 August 202426 July 2024 The Portly Politico15 Comments

Yours portly had a particularly grueling school year last year, and I fell into my bad habit of overeating to cope with the stress. Because of an unfortunate quirk in my schedule, I did not have time for lunch most day, which meant I would eat a large breakfast, then gorge myself during a morning planning period on whatever lunch I had packed. I’d get home in the evenings very late and tired, and would proceed to eat even more.

Fortunately, I didn’t quite get to the “disgracefully fat 271.8 pounds” of the 2022-2023 school year, but I still chunked up a bit. At the time of writing, I’m slowly dropping weight, and am down from about 260 pounds to around 252 pounds.

My approach, as always, is intermittent fasting and the elimination of most snacks. Essentially, I skip breakfast; eat lunch around noon; and eat dinner around 6 PM. If I have a particularly light lunch I might have a snack around 3 PM—a fig bar, for example—but that’s about it.

I’m not much of a “get-out-there-and-exercise” type, either, and with the brutal heat and humidity this summer, I’ve become quite sedentary, treating my house like it’s some kind of biodome habitat plopped onto the surface of Venus. It reminds me of that Ray Bradbury short story, “All Summer in a Day,” in which Venusian schoolchildren only get two hours on the planet’s surface every seven years.

That’s how I’ve handled summer: take Murphy out; go to lessons; do the bare minimum outside; get back inside. It works, but I’ve become like George Costanza during “The Summer of George“—atrophying due to a lack of movement.

Well, I’ll be hoofing it again soon enough.

With that, here is 28 July 2023’s “The Joys of Fasting“:

TBT^4: Modern Art and Influence

25 July 202419 July 2024 The Portly Politico4 Comments

The state of modern art is not exactly a pressing concern in a nation wracked with attempted assassination attempts and listless, anxious youths. At this point, I suspect most of my readers will realize that modern art is something of a joke played on the rich and gullible to separate them from their money. It’s also an attack on Beauty, one intended to demoralize us.

What I learned shamefully recently is that modern art was also a CIA psy-op. That’s not some wild-eyed conspiracy theory; it’s so well-documented and mainstream, even the BBC wrote about it—in 2016 (see, I’m late to the party)!

I’m actually not opposed to government funding for the arts, but whenever the government gets involved with anything, there is the risk that the government will pervert and distort what the art is supposed to be. One very real risk is that “art” will devolve into propaganda. That’s fine if we’re fighting the Second World War and need to inspire people to fight Hitler and the Japanese; if we’re trying to demoralize our own populace with nastiness, it’s not.

The other, related risk is that the government will fund art that we don’t like, personally or collectively. The government is ostensibly “of the people,” but when everyone allegedly is in charge, no one is. The functionaries responsible for handing out National Endowment for the Arts grants are likely doing so based on qualities of the artist—race, regime-approved ideology, gender, etc.—rather than any actual technical skill. So we end up with patronage not of skilled artists, but well-connected or demographically-approved artists. The results are predictably terrible, and we’re all flummoxed as to why we spent $2 million of taxpayer money on it.

A healthy government that actually cared about its people would fund art that promotes Beauty and Truth. If we had such a government, I’d be all for government funding of the arts. Indeed, we probably do have that at the local and State levels. I personally love that the City of Columbia, South Carolina subsidizes the South Carolina Philharmonic. Many Republicans and/or conservatives would balk at that, but it is a worthwhile investment to keep classical music alive in—let’s face it—the “Sahara of the Bozart,” as H. L. Mencken cruelly (and, I think at the time, unfairly) labeled the South.

I feel like I’m contradicting myself a bit here, so to distract from that—and to get on with the post—here is 27 July 2023’s “TBT^2: Modern Art and Influence“:

TBT^4,294,967,296: Happy Birthday, America!

4 July 202428 June 2024 The Portly Politico4 Comments

Today the United States celebrates its 248th birthday. Things seem to be looking up from a year ago. The Usurper Biden short-circuited during last week’s presidential debate, while President Trump came across as a restrained but effective pugilist. As I told my neighbor, one of the two came across as presidential; it’s pretty clear which one.

Tucker Carlson’s ouster from Fox News has been a Godsend for open discourse and dialogue. Not only did he interview Vladimir Putin—perhaps the most important interview of the century—he’s hosted dozens of guests from all across the political spectrum and from all over the world, many of whom would have been too spicy for Fox News to touch.

Across the pond, Nigel Farage is shaking up an otherwise dull parliamentary election with his revitalized Reform Party.

History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme. It’s starting to feel a lot like 2016 again—and a lot like 1776.

With that, here is 6 July 2023’s “TBT^65,536: Happy Birthday, America!“:

TBT: A Discourse on Disclaimers

27 June 202421 June 2024 The Portly Politico29 Comments

Last week my Dad sent me a link to an old piece of mine, “A Discourse on Disclaimers.” When I wrote it, I was still undergoing a based transformation. This piece represents one of those many little turning points that moved me to the point of realizing that there is no reasoning with the Left. After all, how can you reason with an ideology that has no fixed moral center, which is always shifting its own goals in the name of some amorphous, perpetual revolution?

The failure of the modern Right has been to attempt to point out the hypocrisy of the Left, based on the unspoken assumption that if we just keep pointing it out and keep using logic, they’ll see the light and convert to reason, logic, and Truth. It’s like arguing with a pit bull when your baby is dangling from its jaws: it’s fatally ineffective and will cost you something precious.

Fortunately, while the Left possesses all of the irrational insanity and ferocity of the pit bull, it lacks the animal’s strength. Yes, there is a strength the Left possesses in delusion and with its control of the institutions, but even that edifice of institutional control is crumbling.

It’s time for us to be bold. Doing otherwise is tantamount to doubting God’s Promises. Yes, we should be wise—no good will come from shouting red-pilled Truth bombs in the wrong context—but we should be brave, too.

With that, here is 20 June 2018’s “A Discourse on Disclaimers“:

TBT^2: Happy Birthday, Murphy!

20 June 202412 June 2024 The Portly Politico19 Comments

This past Saturday my sassy old bull terrier, Murphy, celebrated her eleventh birthday (humorously enough, she and my recent ex-girlfriend share the same birthday).

The old girl is doing well enough. I adopted Murphy when had just turned eight, and I can tell she is slowing down as the years progress. She still has a bout of the “zoomies” in the evenings before bedtime, but that usually wears her out. Mostly, she spends her days lounging like a diva and begging for scraps from me, her all-too-manipulable owner. As I write this post, she’s relaxing on the floor near me, and I can tell she is considering whether or not she wants to get up and go out—which, when she hears the clackety-clacking of my keyboard, she usually wants to do!

According to the American Kennel Club, the life expectancy for a bull terrier is between twelve and thirteen years, though I have known of bull terriers that live longer (interestingly enough, the miniature bull terrier has a similar life expectancy). Other than slowing down a bit, I don’t think Murphy is going anywhere anytime soon, but she is nearing the end of the breed’s average life expectancy.

Here’s hoping the old girl has at least a few more birthdays in her. She’s a good, albeit sassy, dog, and I’m thankful to have this chubby, stinky old diva in my life.

With that, here is 15 June 2023’s “TBT: Happy Birthday, Murphy!”

TBT^2: Touring the Solar System in Rural Maine

13 June 20249 June 2024 The Portly Politico2 Comments

Back in 2019 I learned about The Maine Solar System Model, a model of the Solar System stretched along Highway 1 in Maine. The planets are spaced proportionally as they are in the Solar System, with the Sun being part of an entire building. It’s a really cool concept, and it’s something I hope to see someday.

This model Solar System reminds me of what John Derbyshire calls the “old, weird America.” The United States is a vast country, with huge regional differences, even within States. Just look at barbecue, for example: there is no uniform way to prepare it in the South. By “barbecue,” I specifically mean pulled pork barbecue, and being from western South Carolina, we like a mustard-based sauce for ours. In North Carolina, its vinegar-based. Other States use—horrors!—ketchup-based sauces.

The point is not to get you hungry—although my mouth is watering—but to give one example of how even in the tiniest details, we Americans are an incredibly varied bunch. One major source of the American Civil War that is often overlooked is the sheer differences between Northerners and Southerners in their respective outlooks about the world itself, much less all the political and economic disagreements.

The Maine Solar System Model is a great example of that kind of weird, localized boosterism. It also harkens back to a time before everything was built to look like a Brutalist J.C. Penney’s.

With that, here is 8 June 2023’s “TBT: Touring the Solar System in Rural Maine“:

TBT^4: Reclaim the Rainbow

6 June 202431 May 2024 The Portly Politico7 Comments

Perhaps it is my own ignorance of worldly affairs, but it feels like the gay stuff has been toned down dramatically this June. After many years of insufferable degeneracy masquerading as “tolerance,” the “pride” people went too far, and people who didn’t want their kids stuffing dollar bills into gay men’s leather thongs or getting secret gender reassignment surgery through their local elementary school’s guidance office rose up and fought back—by withholding their spending.

Conservative efforts at boycotts have always been iffy, but now they actually seem to be working. Target saw a substantial reduction in its business after displaying kid’s clothing that came equipped with wiener-tucking compartments for all those “trans” kids out there. Budweiser—the most American beer, perhaps the most American product, period, after maybe the Ford F-150 and Levi’s—lost so much market share that Modelo—a Mexican beer company!—dethroned it as the king of beers. In this case, I don’t think you can chalk that up to mass Mexican immigration.

Of course, I could be wrong. In spite of these clear messages that most Americans don’t want to be forced to “celebrate” a tiny minority’s sexual peccadilloes, I suspect that we’re going to keep having public homosexual erotica thrust into our faces (perhaps quite literally) whether we like it or not.

All the more reason, then, to reclaim the rainbow. What was once a symbol of God’s Promise to Moses—and, thereby, humanity at large—has been co-opted to represent the government’s promise to emasculate and depopulate all of us.

With that, here is 22 June 2023’s “TBT^2: Reclaim the Rainbow“:

TBT^2: Summertime Schedule Begins

30 May 202422 May 2024 The Portly Politico25 Comments

Not to rub it in or anything, dear readers, but today marks the first true day of my summer vacation. Who knows how I’ve started this auspicious day? Perhaps I lounged decadently while sipping coffee. Perhaps my dog is licking my feet. Maybe I’m still asleep—gasp!

Well, it’s an interesting little dip here—this extended weekend, of sorts, before I start my summer camps next week. I always relish this transitory moment before camps begin, as it’s a good chance to decompress.

Whatever I end up doing, maybe I’ll finally get some work done on my planned third book, Offensive Poetry: With Pictures. I largely abandoned the Sunday Doodles book, but perhaps I should revive that old chestnut, too. I’ve got all summer to figure it out—mwahahahahaha!

With that, here is 9 June 2022’s “TBT: Summertime Schedule Begins“:

TBT^2: Zelda Game & Watch

23 May 202420 May 2024 The Portly Politico4 Comments

Summer is tantalizingly close. Today is the last day of exams, which means there’s just graduation and a couple of days of work next week until yours portly is basking in the limitless freedom of summer.

As last week’s edition of TBT discussed, my thoughts are increasingly turning to video games. I don’t have nearly as much time (and, if I am honest, inclination) to play them as I used to, but I am getting the itch to lose myself in some fantasy worlds for a bit. Even with my workday slowing down, this week has been surprisingly busy, which only increases my yearning for digital realms.

Two years ago I spent an inordinate amount of time playing the Nintendo Game & Watch: The Legend of Zelda handheld console (that’s an affiliate link, by the way, so if you purchase anything through it, I get a portion of the proceeds, at no additional cost to you). It is a nifty little unit; I ended up landing a scorching deal on it, but even at the inflated current price of $52.60, I’d recommend it—highly!

I cut my teeth playing Zelda games, and this little unit includes three of my favorites: the original LoZ; the enigmatic sequel; and the Gameboy exclusive Link’s Awakening. Beating LoZ II is probably the pinnacle of my video gaming achievements.

With that, here is 25 May 2023 “TBT: Zelda Game & Watch“:

TBT^4: SimEarth

16 May 202416 May 2024 The Portly Politico27 Comments

May. It’s the superfluous final month of school. There’s not enough time to cover any new content, but too much time to launch right into exam review. The result: an odd limbo in which neither students or teachers wish to dwell. It’s the time of year when everyone is in on the game of modern education—we’d all be better off doing and being somewhere else, but we’re still going through the rituals of an industrial-era factory.

Naturally, with summer looming, I’m getting the itch to do some gaming again. Since finishing Disco Elysium a few weeks ago, I have not played any game deeply. I did purchase Planescape: Torment, the spiritual ancestor of DE, but only managed to get in about an hour of playtime. One of my students asked me earlier this week about Stardew Valley, which I played religiously for about two weeks in probably 2013. That’s a modern classic I want to dust off soon.

As for the ostensible subject of this post, my forays into SimEarth have been nonexistent since those halcyon days of May 2020, when America’s love affair with The Virus was in full swing. Being cooped up in the house got me nostalgic for the classics, but I need to revisit the planet simulator soon.

Big plans for the summer. If I play all these games as planned, my eyeballs might fall out.

With that, here is 11 May 2023’s “TBT^2: SimEarth“:

The Portly Politico

One Southerner's unique, erudite, conservative perspective in a hectic world

Tag: TBT