Scott Adams is right, again.

If you don’t read Scott Adams’ blog, you are really missing something. Initially famous for his Dilbert comic book series, the guy is a real gem in the world of social psychology. His ability to observe and translate macro-level phenomenon into fairly accurate predictions is nothing short of amazing.

This blog post from a little over a month ago is a fantastic example of what I mean. And his whole blog is great, by the way. I am not a political animal but I predicted that Trump would likely win, without flinching for the entire election cycle. I think part of the reason for that is wrapped up in the content of this blog post. You see, I USED to be a political animal, and therefore I have a pretty good understanding of how politicians think and strategize. But I also associate with a lot of people who are what Kurt Schlichter calls “normals.”

My gamble was that candidate Trump would win precisely because the “normals” are less susceptible to the particular mass hysteria bubble that Adams discusses in his post. I work around people who are either “liberal” or “conservative” based on a bunch of nonsense, really, but all of them are part of the “deep state.” I am too, for that matter. The difference is, I know it, and I am trying to unplug myself from it as soon as I can, in order to live a more free life than I have now.

But both the democrats and republicans that I work around every day believe that President Trump is an unstable, racist buffoon who managed to fool all of the unstable racist buffoons across America to vote for him. It is impossible for them not to, and self-preservation is big part of that. Candidate Trumps talk about “draining the swamp” in the months leading to the election caused a lot of anxiety and you could hear it in the halls of the federal government–where I work. People–left and right believed we were all going to get pink slips on 21JAN. I would love to analyze how much of that comes from a place deep inside where they know that most of what we do is actually superfluous, but I digress.

From the beginning, I perceived candidate Trump as a guy who made no claims about being a moral leader, but who wanted to bring a specific set of skills to the white house in order to turn the country around economically, and in other ways. (Make America great again). The talk I was perceiving around my non-political, non-deep state friends was that this was a resonating message, and so I figured he would win using an electoral strategy that included winning states nobody imagined he would win.

And that’s exactly what happened. This does not make me a genius. It just means I was in a unique position to perceive the mass hysteria and avoid it myself. Being inside the bubble would have made it impossible to even entertain the thought of a Trump victory, and that is also exactly what happened.

Is the current dust up over millionaire crybaby psychopaths kneeling and black power saluting during the National Anthem a matter of president Trump vs the NFL? Hardly. It is only so if you are in the mass hysteria bubble. And many of the very same people who voted for him are now in that bubble. It starts to get confusing.

The worst part is the hysteria bubble, I think, is part of a series of concentric, ever increasing in scope bubbles, that becomes impossible to see yourself on the outside of anyway. For example, “conservative” America will eventually go back to professional sports. Right now, on social media they are all a flurry with memes from patriotic websites and Ted Nugent type red, white and blue flag wavers over the players protests. Most of the commentary from that side of the debate is framed by the meme squads as what the National Anthem is, or is not “about.” Framing is fine–everybody does it. But when you tell those protesters that the basis of their protest is invalid, you have now entered the realm of subjectivity and they are not going to hear you anyway. “The Anthem is about the men and women who died so you could have the freedom to protest and not about oppression” is not an argument to them. It doesn’t matter if you are right about that.

What I think will happen next, is the Anthem will be removed from sports altogether, and the argument will be that having it politicizes the sport (see that?). Then, some years in the future, “conservatives” will lament the loss of the “good ole’ days” back when they used to play the anthem before sporting events. There will be a short-term loss of customers, but they will eventually come back and still consume the product known as professional sports. That’s all “conservatives” are good for today–complaining about some “good ole days” that they did nothing to preserve when they had the chance.




The eternal conflict of the working class doctors mind.

This is of course part of the general insincerity of academic life, which, like an art gallery, a poetry reading, or any number of other highbrow contexts, is palpable to ordinary people.

I have spent my whole life with one foot in this palpable world and the other in the real one. As a child, for example, I was sent to a private school, and although I was not the poorest kid there, I was close to the bottom. And so it was that the majority of my “peers” there were not peers in any real sense. Those days were difficult for me, because the evidence that we were more or less lower-middle class, while they were of some other strata was relentless. Their clothes nicer, the cars their parents picked them up in more expensive, and forget birthday parties and end-of summer swim overs. Swimming pool? In your back yard? Um, you must be rich. My dad did OK, but his accent and immigrant status made it hard for him to fit into American life, and therefore did not make the connections needed to get out of where we were.

My parents couldn’t afford the private school, and I vaguely remember them discussing it, when they thought I couldn’t hear them. Being on a “payment plan” because they were late, and having to call the school to promise them they would catch up next month, etc.

But I loved rubbing shoulders with the folks who occupied at least one rung on the social ladder above mine. I also hated it.

I can see this now, looking back but I didn’t understand it then. What I don’t get is why as an adult, I have learned nothing from it. In my twenties, I gravitated toward politics, and I was involved in it for a time. My mom was the only elected official on the city council who lived in a rented house. I was on the board of directors for our local republican party chapter, and also not really making it. I loved the fund raising dinners, the super rich donors and local business owners and the power elite. But I hated them too.

Then it was on to graduate school, where I obtained my first masters degree because I thought then they would like me. But again, I really didn’t like them. The culmination of this conflict was the fact that I enlisted in the army (rather than take a commission) with a post graduate degree and was entering the service at the rank of Specialist. A 30 year old E-4 with an MA. What a moron. Those 4 years I spent enlisted exemplified and amplified this internal conflict. All of the people that the rigid military system told me were my “peers” were 18 year old high schoolers who couldn’t spell ambivalence while those who were my actual peers on any other level — the doctors, nurses, etc that I worked with every day were off limits. It was fraternization for me to hang out with them on my free time. I hated that too.

Graduate school a second time told me I must really be a glutton for punishment. And those conferences that the author describes? By this time my education level made it so I could keep up with the conversations and I suddenly realized–these are just a bunch of insecure assholes using big words to hide their fear. They are not actually saying anything useful or intelligent. 

And so it is that I find myself, as always, straddled between two worlds. I am a medical provider, but I would rather be a farmer. I have reached the doctoral level–no one “out ranks” me in education–and almost a decade past commencement, I can’t relate to anyone I work with. I can talk about diagnoses, risk factors, algorithms for differential, and I sometimes even help patients feel better. But most of these men I treat just need a day of hunting or fishing on my Montana ranch. A day in the sun shoveling horse shit and a cold beer on the porch at the end.

As for multiculturalism? Of course its stupid. Everyone who has ever lived below the median income line knows that.

What are you doing to prepare?

With the monolithic singularity of social justice rapidly closing in on all its enemies, I wonder what people are doing to get ready for what’s coming?

The technology exists now to purge all of the undesirables from the public sphere. To ensure that you have never made a politically incorrect comment, never laughed at a racial joke that everybody knows is funny, never downloaded or watched a movie or TV show that is now considered offensive. Anyone who has ever created and logged into accounts on Facebook, Discus, WordPress, Google, etc is now under the close watch of the Eye of Sauron (or can be if you get the wrong people’s attention). It is the main reason, for example, I don’t blog or comment anonymously. I am under no delusion that doing so will save me now.

Did you find this funny? EVER?

Or this?

Or this?

You get the idea. All of it must go, and it is only on the internet because a small handful of corporations allow it to be there. In Europe, people are already being visited by men with guns for writing and sharing the wrong things on social media. It won’t be long now. And although I do find President Trumps signaling (in some cases) that he despises it as well, I don’t think he will save “free speech.”

What have you done to prepare yourself? What will you do when you try to log on to your computer to download your childrens Christian homsechool material and it is contraband. Or watch an old classic movie.  There is a red message banner that reads “you are attempting to access material that has been deemed hate speech or offensive to a protected group. The authorities have been contacted.”

Just curious.


A red-pill man who also cleans

A guest post by Mychael

Gentlemen, pardon the interruption. I felt compelled to write about an issue, and since I no longer have a blog where topics like this are appropriate, I asked him if I could write something here. I hope this is useful to the (mostly) men who read here.

As many know, I am, primarily a stay-at-home-mom. I am with our kids almost 24/7. I feed the family, I take the kids to all their medical appointments, their piano/ballet/karate/homeschool co-op…well, you get the idea. I grocery shop, plan meals, teach, and keep house. I am also a nurse, very part time. About 2 weekends a month, to be exact.

This happens to be one of those weekends and Scott, as usual was home with the three littles, and my mom. She took our daughter to ballet rehersal (which is several hours long) and Scott stayed home with the boys, 2 and 4.

Two boys that age is a handful, in case you don’t know.

And as he does every time he is home alone, he got more done around the house (inside and out) than most women do in a month.

Here is what the house looked like when I got home. And remember, he does this every time.

Boys room

Daughters room

Living room

Homeschool classroom

Dining room


Masther bath

And on and on. He goes the extra mile and does stuff like this:



Even the dreaded mud/laundry room does not escape his attention:



The guy is a machine. And today he said he was having a low motivation day! He fed all the animals, watered the garden, cleaned up the back porch and yard. The laundry is done–and by “done” I mean everything–towels, sheets, clothes folded and put away.  All with two, high energy Klajic boys under his feet, no doubt making messes behind him as he went along.

Here’s the hard part for many to hear. None of it makes him the least bit more attractive to me. And by attractive, I mean the way the manosphere means. I do not come home to find this and want to jump him. (Well, not because of the way the house looks). He does this stuff because he is a high-intensity, former NCO (now officer) who likes everything “dress right dress.” Its nice, but I have to tell you. I was attracted to him the second I first saw him get out his truck and start walking towards me. Before he opened his mouth I knew I was in trouble. That was 11 years ago. And I tell him that all the time.

This was us on our 2nd date. And I felt like a teenager, totally sinking into this big mans shoulder. I still have this expression on my face in every picture we take together.

Coit Tower, 2006

I am pregnant, and because of it, having a hard time keeping up these days. My husband knows this and just does what needs catching up on. This makes him a very sweet man. But he does not do it as foreplay. These behaviors are what I believe Rollo calls “comfort/beta” behaviors, and they are nice. But I never once considered his cleanliness/neatness or lack thereof as part of what attracts me to him.

These traits are part of his character, which definitely has a lot to do with why a couple stays together. I would like to think that my character is a similar-level plus to the relationship. But if you try to signal character to a girl who is not interested in the first place, it is not likely to work out.

The trick is to figure how to screen each other for both very early. Scott and I have been very lucky, or blessed if you are a believer. We bumbled through the “dating” world and found each other using the least likely way to work. But the natural mechanics of it were in play, whether we wished it to be true or not.

God bless, gentlemen. I know its hard out there. I know women of today have zero incentive to make themselves attractive to, or even notice what’s out there in front of them. No training, no realism at all.


In subjective atomization land, what do you say?

Today, I stopped at Dollar General on my way home:

And I’m not sure if I did the right thing. This old lady was trying her hardest to crush the spirit of an innocent. And I said nothing.

I know its a horrible picture. But the berating continued even outside in the parking lot. “You know better than to stand right there! Move!” And yet she continued to just smile her way through the treatment.

In this “culture” there is no norm to appeal to, no reason to stick your neck out. The woman would have told me to mind my own business, and why not?

Just wondering what you guys think.

The Coward of the County

I have been in exactly 5 fights in my life. I have no specific training in martial arts. or anything like that. I had a pretty normative American developmental trajectory. Here’s what it looked like in this regard.

First one was stupid elementary schoolyard bullying. I got my ass kicked by a bigger kid for my lunch money. Went home, my dad taught me a couple of the things to try the next day.  The second “fight” was over before it started, and he never bothered me again.

Next one I was a security guard/bouncer at a club. I was 21. I don’t consider the rest of what I did there “fights” because when its you and 5 of your friends against one, its just you piling on and throwing them out the door. This was probably the most dangerous one I have ever been in. I was squared off, one on one with a guy way bigger than me, and when the punches started flying I was being stabbed with one of these:

…and I had no idea I was bleeding because the adrenaline. By the time the other security guards got there, I was starting to black out. I don’t remember much else but I had a bunch of stitches and two cool scars on my chest.

Then, I was an army version of a psych ward orderly. One night, there were very few patients on the ward, so the staffing was very low. Just me and the little old lady nurse. One of the patients burst through the magnetic door lock to escape and I chased him down a few flights of stairs, and had to wrestle him to the ground by myself until the security guards came. It seemed like an eternity. If you never been in a one on one like that, it only takes a minute to get winded and tired.

In the last one, I was at a fireworks show with my then girlfriend. Everyone was sitting on folding chairs, under a gazebo leaning back, looking up. All of the sudden, we were all knocked out of our chairs by a cop in a fight with a bad guy. The cop was losing the fight, and the guy was reaching for his gun. I jumped in, helped the cop subdue him and get him handcuffed. I do believe had I not intervened, the cop would have died. The funny part was, after I saved the cops life, he told me I should have stayed out of it. Also remarkable was the fact that all the other patrons were booing me for helping. “Aww man, stay out of it, Its none of your business!” Just interesting I guess.

I remember this song as having a profound impact on me, even though I was a little kid when it came out:

I thought “wow. That Tommy really waited until it mattered to fight.”

And I think about those few that I have been in. Could have been killed in two of them. But I figured I learned two valuables lesson from those. That is, most of the time, a fight won’t kill you. And, sometimes even if you lose, people see that you are not an easy target and leave you alone.

I’m 6’1″ and I hover around 210. I have a relatively deep voice. I have been able to rely on that presence factor most of the time. But as you can see, sometimes, it doesn’t work. My choice of jobs when I was younger didn’t help either. At 46, I’m not sure I would do so well one on one.

But with all the stupid “anti-bullying” stuff out there, and the totally ridiculous set of double standards and hypocritical ways we approach masculinity, I wonder how I am going to deal with this with my boys.

And as Cane points out here, the message from the authorities is “we don’t care who started it.”

I, of course, disagree about that, but I don’t run the world. So, what are you teaching your boys about this, dads?

With nihilism as the diagnosis, what are the comorbid conditions and prognosis?

It is hard to pinpoint when nihilism first took hold in “the west.” But it (and its comorbid conditions) has been a creeping infestation that cuts to the core of why there will be no more Christo-Rational-Consensus based civilizations in the near future. We have moved so far from such a model for understanding how to arrange Gods people (and we love it, by the way) to really unscrew what has been screwed. Not without a massive shift in the reality on the ground in some form or another.

I began to engage with commenter Jack Russell at Dalrock when I realized it might be worth its own post.

Jack Russell-

I never realized the context of the song 905 was test tube babies. The lyrics seem to reflect the very cynical environmentalist-overpopulation-atheist-people basically suck views of 70s era enlightened types like Pete Townsend.

And everything I know is what I need to know
And everything I do’s been done before
Every sentence in my head
Someone else has said
At each end of my life is an open door

… is the kind of stuff late baby boomers would say “whoa dude. Deep. Its like, there’s no point n stuff, man” to.

The Who album “Who are you” came out in 1978, at the zenith of the album rock era. I was 7 years old, so not really into this music at the time. But my older brothers where teenagers. Album rock was the idea that a single was not really meant to be listened to as a stand alone piece outside the larger message or motif of the album from which it was pulled. There was an entire radio station genre dedicated to album rock.

Of course, I made a mistake in my comment–John Entwhistle wrote “905” but that is Townsend singing. And the broader context of the album is pretty cynical and dark. Take this line from “New Song:”

I write the same old song, with a few new lines, and everybody wants to hear it

And of course, from “Had Enough”

The worlds gonna sink with the weight of the human race

The entire message of the album is that of a dystopic, worn out humanity that has nothing to offer but baggage to the world.

Comorbid latent subjectivity

Within 10 years came Monty Pythons “The Meaning of Life.” The central message of the film is “maybe there is a transcendent immortal soul, maybe not. But anyway it doesn’t matter so the meaning of life is whatever you personally decide it is for yourself.” Here is how they expressed their understanding of worship to help make this point:

Funny right? I think its hilarious and still watch the movie when its on. And I think the album “who are you” is pretty cool too. Having one foot in the world like that is fun, because it makes you feel like you aren’t a total outcast. But when I stop and think about all this, its part of a larger onslaught over at least my entire lifetime. Namely, all of the discipline, the aesthetic and the sublime that this civilization is built on is crap. Its a bunch of hypocritical racism, religious bigotry and xenophobia. Why are you loyal to it?

The darkness behind white picket fences

David Lynch and his entire schtick has always been that behind the miles of American suburban white picket fences is nothing but dark sexual secrets, abuse, and other crazy stuff. From “Blue Velvet” to “Twin Peaks” this is his view of the nuclear family. Daddy is a creep with deep, latent Freudian sexual pathology and the image he and his family project is a dishonest façade. And although Lynch was always a fringe indie type film maker, eventually that narrative stuck and is now the worlds prevailing belief about suburbia. “American Beauty” (1999) reinforced this image with brute force and a little eastern mindfulness imagery mixed in.

Laura Palmers family, the modern template for Americana

We mock that kind of family, and especially dad.

That assault has been relentless and calculated and has been, more or less successful. The men of the “manospehere” — especially the ones struggling to figure out if they even want a wife and family are the collateral damage and will continue to be seen as basement dwelling neck beards who can’t get laid–until they are done being seen that way. What happens when 100 million unemployed/underemployed young men with no hope for something that makes sense find a cause and leader? I don’t know, but I hope they decide I am on their side at that point. So far, it resulted in President Trump being elected. A pretty loud message, I think. Next thing might be a little louder.

These traditions and institutions that we have mocked into oblivion were all that was keeping things together, as we coasted on fumes riding on the coattails of our betters.

I hope I’m wrong. The prognosis is not good. And the motto the Boy Scouts taught me was “be prepared.”



Day with the boys

Today, Mychael had to take our daughter to ballet rehearsal (for “The Nutcracker”), and of course, me and my sons would rather low crawl naked over rusty razor blades while chewing on broken glass, so…

We took off, stopped at a gas station, filled up my excessively inefficient truck with 30 gallons of diesel, grabbed some junk food for breakfast and headed to the Burnet Air Show!

My boys sat in a few aircraft:

David in the Blackhawk right seat.


We walked around a lot and saw some other cool stuff:

Aleks thought this plane was a dinosaur so he wanted to pet it.

On our way to see the ruskie chopper.

And my personal favorites, the Vietnam era chink plane and a WWII ssssexxxxx bomber with exactly the right message about women painted on the side:

We had a great time and by the time we were rolling out of the parking lot, they were out:

The whole day just made me want to run home and smack Mychael on the behind. And it was totally worth taking those last two pictures while I turned around in my seat flying down a non-divided highway at 70MPH!

Brought to you by Carl’s Junior.