The Journal
Serving the Metropolitan Area
Since 1872
March 17th
EAT the SQUEAMISH!
By Jack Parnell - retired Congressman and Independent Presidential
candidate
Syndicated
by Acme Features
|
|
"It's not always best, in the long run, to maximize pleasure
or freedom in the short run." |
|
|
|
|
|
- Mike Barone, in the Washington Post |
|
|
|
"You're neither one thing nor the other, you see. A really grand
sinner must be a man who is bold and who makes up his mind. And so you must
be melted up." |
|
|
|
|
|
- The Button-Moulder to Peer Gynt |
|
Now and again, I've
made referral to the Squeamish; one of Amurka's most unpleasant
constituencies as a body can encounter. Almost as intransigent and sneaky as
the Russia and China lobbies, though not half so generous. As I will explain,
in good time, ecclesiastical Virtuecrats tend to fly
off the right wing, the neo-lib politically correct Canceleers
off the left... Squeamishness, well, call it the ugly gutbucket of the roasted plague
bat, as both wings sprout from.
The Squeamish (as distinct
from Amish, who live simply and produce useful commodities like the puppies
that George Santos steals) live mental lives of great complexity in looking for
stuff to take offense at... usually "on behalf of" lesser creatures
that they look down upon with avarice and pity... children, racial, gender or
religious minorities, fetii, animals, oystersm, rainforests...
all of whom, mostly, wish heartily (if often voicelessly) that the Squeamish
would simply go away. Most are well-off and educated, if superficially... "I
think that activism itself is a privilege," one talking head let the snake
out of that bag, declaring: "Let's face it, to be able to go to all of
these meetings you have to have either some kind of economic, educational, or
other kind of privilege."
I guess that you could
make the case for Squeamishness being a product of the Hollywood fifties. Black
and white Caucasian sitcoms like Ozzie, Father Knows Best and the Beaver
posited a rote community of white picket fences and invisible coloreds -
behatted fathers with invisible jobs bleating out: "hello, honey, I'm
home!" and complicated problems solved in thirty minutes, less
commercials. (The police and attorney
dramas – they sometimes consumed whole hours!) A nostalgia for such past as never existed,
except on television... Anglo-Indian journalist Shiva Naipaul comparing
Americans of the squeamish classes to the race of Eloi in the H. G. Wells book
and movie "Time Machine", living off credit and selling off their
ports to
First, the Squeamish-American
President appointed into office by his father's judges after losing the Y2K
election decided... like a seven-year-old kissing up to her teacher... that
Iraq and Syria and Egypt must have Amurkan-style democracy,
whether they wanted to, or not. And the
Urban Spaceman as followed doing the same thing with the Libyans and Yemenese and, after him, we had Djonald
Unchained’s Big Baghdadi Adventure, President Joe
fleeing Afghanistan, holding onto his hat with both hands, and now the Costa
Ricans; they, too, mutter “Ditto!”
Wilhelm Reich, somewhat
more callously, contended that the Squeamish know exactly the consequences
of their stance (rather like so many fratboys at the
pandemical pool party)... "As bitter as it may be, the fact remains: it is
the irresponsibleness of masses of people
that lies at the basis of fascism of all countries, nations and races." Because
NIMBYhood requires one to have a back yard,
Adam Smith was... two centuries ago... prescient in his warnings that liberal
elites, "fortunate and proud", would begin to wonder "at the
insolence of human wretchedness, that it should dare to present itself before
them, and with the loathsome aspect of its misery, presume to disturb the
serenity of their happiness."
(Having felt the pain of the lower orders, didn’t
necessarily mean he or his cronies intended to relieve it. To the contrary,
bitter old lady Cynthias peering out their windows at
the neighbor repairing his transmission in the driveway closed their blinds and
called the code police; governments and corporations; on a larger scale
ostensibly progressive gumments tweaked zoning laws,
demolished slums and then ran out of money to rebuild the nice places as
promised, and then built more jails to contain those problem persons.) Like the good citizens of California decreed,
those unsightly homeless peasants as cannot afford Golden State rents must be
rounded up and sent to... not homes... treatment.
Didn't help that
most as raised heck in the '60s, then went disco in the '70s, had to face the ravages
of time... against which the sex, drugs and rock n' roll dwindled down to an
occasional Viagra, Rogaine or bootleg Zelnorm and elevator
music. The zero tolerance grows tolerable once a body's own tolerance for
excess flees, breeding mean thoughts of "...why should those damn kids get to be so happy?"
and reality television programs like that where aspiring artistes competed to
replace some Aussie in this band, as found the Bohemian life so enjoyful that he hanged himself. (Like the Rev. Dennis
Peacock, I blame "Satan" Claus as a poor role model, a
moral miscreant Socialist who eats too much and laughs too much and tosses
gifts like some demented Democrat to be let loose round vulnerable children.)
So declare war on cellulite,
dive for the cellphone and call the cops! One by one, outposts of risky
hedonism colonized in the '50’s, 60s and 70s have been squished under the thin,
sour high heels of left, right and dead center Squeamishness like
unwanted kittens and puppies, euthanized in humane societies "for their
own good". AIDS happened, turning sex "cool and mean", reflected
Michael V. Miller, spawning a sublimation industry of dirty words, bitter games
and hollow interactions, then along came waves and variants of Coronavirus-19
and “emotional distancing” with the Zika Three sex pandemic waiting in those
batwings still being munched by Chinese gourmets as we mentioned above and
then, finally, a miserable war which Americans avoided by pulling their
blankets up over their heads as one East Bloc nation after another was
conquered and enslaved.
Sea World Orlando threw
up a "Key West Village" with mechanical manatees and plastic palms,
Hemingway-spouting pizza servers and ceiling fans (but no homosexuals, gnats or
alcohol – a veritable no fly zone!)
before Hurricane Irma took both the
real and fake crap down. "Pretty pathetic!" scoffed Jimmy Weekly, City
Commissioner for the real Key West. Disney, speaking of Papa, released another
animated version of "The Old Man and the Sea", reprogrammed with
singing fishes and fishermen, too... the big fish got away at the end, so the
Old Man settled for curly fries at one of those new Caribbean Pirates VII fish
franchises as slithered into St. Petersburg storefronts vacated by McDonalds’ sanctioneers. "It is our hope that nobody will be offended by the film," a Disney
spokesperson squeaked, last July.
Makes you wanna vote for Saint Ron,,, sort
of (but only sort of),
Orwell warned us
that... once the State finishes with our bodies... our minds, history and
heritage become next course on the Squeamish menu. We're not quite far down the
well-intentioned Squeamish road to thoughtcrime as the Euros or Iraniacs, among others, but we do have all these new "civility"
laws as allow politicians to gavel down and close off public comment that they don't
appreciate and tear down statues of past Americans (especially memorials to the
fallen soldiers of wars past) as might have said or done something politically
incorrect. Sacred in memory… losers and
suckers in life and death. Squeamerica purged the Muppets, Potato Head, the Eyes of
Texas and Seuss but, at least, that vote to boot Babe Ruth from the Hall of
Fame for obesity and drinking failed last winter, as did another attempt to
kick FDR off the dime for alleged adultery. The postals did,
however, airbrush Freud's pipe off'n his stamp as,
also, cigarettes from the lips of Jackson Pollock's 67-centers, our sliced and
diced SCOTUS upheld the Minnesota schoolmarms as banned Christmas and
Valentine’s Day as “insensitive to the multicultural community” and the good
city patriarchs of Fort Worth bobbitted this cattle
sculpture as turned out long in more than the horns…
"We had
requested a steer," Roland Mackie of Sundance Square Management joined the
apology brigade. "We got a bull."
And then there are the
Oscars – but we’ve had too much conversation about smooth little golden men these
past years…
Them Squeamish
remind me of this joke that Russians told during the Commonism
(as seems to have been hijacked by the Deep State as pull strings on its Biden puppet):
Three farmers eked out miserable livings on a collective farm 'til, one day, an
angel appeared... part of the heresy since, of course, there weren't no such
things as angels in the atheist U.S.S.R. Anyway, this angel granted the usual
three wishes... though, being Russian, that broke down to only one apiece. The
first wished for a chicken, for eggs, the second... a little cheekier... for a
cow, so he could have his own milk. The angel gave them what they asked for,
then approached the third. "I'm a true believer," he said, "in
the necessary equality of all men, even under a God as doesn't exist. Kill my
neighbors' livestock!"
The Commonists are gone, now, went the ever- persnickety National
Review, their Russian and Chinese inheritors gone to selling us petroleum,
electronics, credit and, finally, war… committing Internet crimes, invading
Crimea, Kyiv, Hong Kong and Moldavia and the both tweaking American elections
to endorse either Donald Trump (Moscow, 2016) or Sleepy Joe (Beijing, 2020)
but... if those difficulties with al-Qaida Two, ISIS Three, the Costa-Rican
solidarian bombers and Army of Horus, last year, (not to mention the ongoing
Syrian and Salvadoran diasporas – American industry not so intolerant of all
those Ukrainians replacing Mexicans in the fields, farms and Fuddruckers
because their skin color is... you know...) haven't convinced the Squeamish of
the existence of real evilment splintering through
American skylights... we in the CNC, at least, are keepin'
one uninsured eye out for such real Morlocks as lurk behind the alcohol and
caffeine-free, organic lite-microbrewery.
|
CLICK the CATFISH to go to
PAST and PRESENT EPISODES of "BLACK HELICOPTERS" and to OTHER JACK PARNELL COLUMNS |