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.
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.
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.
In yesterday’s post, I alluded to a gig in Wilmington, North Carolina, at the Juggling Gypsy Cafe. It’s an artist-friendly venue that has the vibe of such places: a shabby, dimly-lit interior, populated with colorful, post-ironic types (some young, some clinging to youth on the wrong side of 35), the walls plastered with flyers for obscure bands and pages from old comic books. It’s the kind of place I used to play frequently in my twenties, when I still had the energy and drive to play for peanuts at 10:30 PM on a Wednesday night.
It was a fun trip there and back. I met a transgender photographer working as a bartender. I talked to a really passionate carpenter. An old dude had personal conversations with me during my second set. But if you want to hear the whole story, you’ve gotta subscribe to my SubscribeStar page for $1 a month or more!
I’ve written quite a bit about work—or “hustlin’,” as I sometimes call it—on The Portly Politico. That’s mostly because I’m frequently making excuses for the tardiness of my daily posts, which are, at times, legitimately difficult to complete some days due to how much work I’m doing.
A more important reason, though, is my belief that work is ennobling. Its benefits exist beyond a paycheck, and reach deeper into our minds and souls.