“There is this great progressive myth, that life in this world is perfectable.”

-Lynn Lockhart.

“Never expect other people to do what they’re supposed to do—supposed hell!”

-Big Ron’s Father

To attain and maintain a peak of masculinity it is necessary to avoid some big picture activities, such as political activism and other whining efforts to grasp the strings of power held by others in the vain attempt that your tiny pull within this gigantic mechanism shall prove decisive on the cosmic level.

However, the machine that has been designed, engineered, built and upgraded by the most evil geniuses of the past hundred generations, has many insidious aspects meant to pervert, subvert and hurt your quest to remain a man in an inhuman society. Foremost among these are semantic submissions of our will uttered every time we parrot one of the false social precepts of Civilization. These civilized notions, imbedded in our very means of communication, will be called, in this examination of our ongoing emasculation, “Civil Notions.”

Civil Notions are generally toxic to organic group identity, terribly corrupt to the individual and absolutely corrosive to the masculine soul. The first, and perhaps most pervasive Civic Notion is the idea that other people should do certain things in order to prevent you from doing for yourself. The social concept of “should” is, at its root, the idea that every man should be a slave to a body of rules so that every man shall not be called upon to be a man.

SHOULD is the death of manhood.

Have you ever ridden in a car with someone who is driving and seems perfectly adjusted to life, to be confident and dependable. And then, as soon as another motorist breaks a rule that driver begins honking, screaming, yelling, gesticulating like a subhuman and otherwise doing everything he can to make a conflict of the situation?

All road rage incidents—all, every single one of them—are planted, bloom and harvested from the vile seed of SHOULD.

Should has many ghetto expressions, such as jaywalking with the back to traffic, depending for your very life on others not running you over because they SHOULD not do so according to our sick laws of civility. Much of ghetto behavior is an outward expression of extreme and early emasculation. All such expressions surrender the idea of agency. Any person who believes that they should survive their own stupidity based on what others should do, is doomed in the heroic sense. The ghetto boy who just has to attack a cop because he is angry at his mother emasculating him and wants the cop to be the daddy he never had and somehow not harm him, is no more than a child throwing a tantrum.

There are many such manifestations of this. One is road rage, of which Big Ron gave me three examples he was involved in. In all three of these he was threatened by a motorist for driving like Big Ron. Of course when he accepted the invitation to pull over and brawl with these fools they all decided not to become a Big Ron hand puppet and sped off once the man stepped out of his vehicle with an easy lack of hesitation. As we laughed over these stories he summarized road rage like so:

“Before computers, the big mouth behind the car wheel, was the original expression of the keyboard hero on the internet.”

I take this as an example of emasculation due to the worship of the slave ethos of SHOULD. I give as proof the much higher incidence of road rage initiated by women than men.

Another example of the creeping surrender of agency based on the Civil Notion of SHOULD is this.

In the ghetto many male drones will ostentatiously, boldly, fearlessly you might say, conduct such business as shirt changing, grooming, conversation, changing a shirt, waiting to cross the street, etc., while standing in the only drive land on their side of the street. Those that acquire a car often do so with their car door open. This is not simply rude and belligerent behavior like double parking [also an urban drone and police officer favorite] but deeply revealing of a lack of masculine agency. For instance, not long ago, I watched one young man stand with his car door open, in the only east bound drive lane on a double-lined street, appearing bold and fearless before the onrushing dozen vehicles, whose drivers had to cross the center line and play chicken with ongoing traffic because of this man’s action.

This action appears to be a demonstration of bravery, but is not. This is mere posing as part of a complaisant belief that all of these motorists will “do the right thing,” as if Spike Lee were directing his film biopic, and not run him over. Putting oneself at the mercy of rolling tons may seem brave until we realize that those who do this have absolute, ironclad confidence that every stranger behind the wheel of a car will, first and foremost, look out for his safety when he is not himself burning a single calorie to survive.

In Baltimore, much of this behavior is an expression of the hope that one will be hit by a car and hit the lawsuit jackpot, another expression of the ghetto as the apogee of Western Civilization, where the worship of fiat currency and the many things and pleasures it can rent exceeds even the worship of our faceless, materialistic God of Things by the super elite. Many see the milk-stained ebony inhabitants of the American urban space as a failure of, or canker upon, Western Civilization. However, these people are genetically all part European, and, most importantly, they are more fanatically addicted to the apex Euro-American religion, Civic Materialism, as evidenced by their greater willingness to perish in the sacred seeking of things and pleasures. Of all the many souls sold by their owners to build a fortune in industry, media or politics, who has risked life and limb as heedlessly as the ghetto drone daring motorists to run him over?

When life becomes scarce, when God finally awakens from his slumber and pulls the sissy mask that veils the pockmarked whore Civilization for the diseased crone which she is, all of those in the habit of operating according to the Civil Notion of SHOULD shall quickly die.

Big Ron's Baltimore: A Working Man's View of Urban Blight