A close friend of mine, who is a video creator and comic book writer and artist, was on the phone with me two weeks ago. The subject of his art came up and he confided that the state of the nation and of the world, even though he had cut himself off from most media, was keeping him in a state of upset.
I know no one who lives more firmly in Should than this highly ethical man. I also know no one who suffers more between his ears and behind his eyes, than this tormented soul. These states are related and I see them reflected in many other men of an independent mind. Men who think for themselves, like the young genius Jakob the Apostate that I once shared this Utah basement with, and who did away with himself in dismay over not being able to look away, they suffer.
The smartest men are set up to either experience or inflict suffering. But those who live in Should, instead of Is, tend to suffer alone inside themselves and on the margins of society, while that human society seeks to feast upon them as delicacies of dissent.
I am of the opinion, as a dissident thinker, a thought criminal, a pariah upon the Body Economic, that I have been saved from this suffering—for my friend notes that I laugh when others groan—only because of my selfish nature. If I was selfless, I would not be a hobo, but would be living with my Mom and Sister, doing improvements to my oldest son’s house and patting my youngest son on the back for his many successes.
My suffering ended, after 38 years of toil, working for my family, when I looked at two successful sons and a well setup and retired mother, a married off sister with a good husband, and decided that for the last phase of my life, I would do what I wanted, write, with everything a slave to my writing, including the people I love. At any give time, there are 3 to 4 women suffering because the one man who has treated them like a human in their treacherous lives, is away, on the other side of the nation.
I live a selfish life and do not suffer spiritually.
Ironically, the people I live with in this episodic fashion, claim that my presence [as a non suffering person] makes their life easier, better, someone they can talk to who is not going to grow angry.
This has been wearing on me, this facet of the hobo life. The Captain’s wife, even said once, to my embarrassment, when noting that her husband was so much more at ease with her when I was around, “Do you think LaFond is an angel?”
He looked at me and said with his eyes, “My wife has no idea what a monster you are!”
What is going on here, that people who are morally better than I, who place the ones they love above themselves while I place the ones I love out to the side, who care deeply about men they don’t know getting their genitals chopped off while I muse, “More babes for me,” who care about the fate of foreign nations while I do not even concern myself with our nation, how can these folk look at me and see a moral positive?
Well, I am a moral sink hole, not a positive. I do, however, have access to more of my own spirit than almost all Americans, because I am not actively having my soul drank and diminished by the fiendish Satanic Lords of America.
I am the least of Americans, yet self described Nazis and their enemies on the Far Left, will sit with me and thank me for listening to their woes, perhaps even offering some small advice on navigating these hazards of the individual soul implicit in navigating our collective moral sinkhole.
I posit here, that this charade of mine is proof that our souls are being imbibed by our participation in Modern Life. Modernity diminishes us all, every one of us, except the worst. I count myself among those worst of men, for we know that evil triumphs when men do nothing, and I merely note its dark passage across Time and Space. I did not even advise my family not to get the vaxx, which seems like it is designed to kill the recipient within 5 years.
It is my opinion that engagement in any aspect of this social system, diminishes us. For instance, why are extreme dissidents still permitted to have platforms?
My friend reads a man named Andrew because he agrees with his view. But I see, when I stay with him in the morning, after he checks the Daily Stormer, that he grows angry, agitated, or frustrated, the man he agrees with yet extending the satanic tentacles of our vampire overlords into his brain.
So I said to him, “Bro, your next comic, your next issue of Autumn Dominion, is more important to me than the fate of the United States! ...and I don’t even read comics!”
To Hel with this world, it has been constructed to enslave and devour us!
By creating, even something minor, outside of this system, then we do toss a message in a bottle into cruel seas, which might have some small chance of washing up on some not yet lonely shore to touch another soul out of step with the systemic whole.