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Hipsters are Trendy

The most predictable people in the world are those desperate to be like no one else. They confuse separateness with originality. I was watching the hipsters gather at the coffee shop tonight. They were bringing their instruments and wearing vans, and t-shirts with ironic statements—I don’t think a one of them weighed over 180, thrift wear, tight pants, and tight jackets included sopping wet. One guy had a short hairstyle reminiscent of a sixties supermodel – you know… the silhouette of his head would look like a light bulb. Most of the hairstyles worn seemed to consider grooming too trendy.

I guess the whole idea of the hipster’s outfit and hair is to show solidarity with the homeless while paying $6.95 for a latte. It’s too mainstream to pay that much at Starbucks.

I’ve been haunting this downtown area for a while now. I’ve noticed a couple of retro looking SUV‘s. One has a Che Guevara bumper sticker; the other has a Darwin sticker—the one where the fish has legs. Wow, that is so avant-garde. Each of these hipster haulers has the assorted and very typical array of leftist bumper stickers—so original.

I pack up my laptop and I leave. As I walk out the door, I begin to connect the dots. There on the road are these two SUV’s with these skinny young men trying to haul pieces of their disassembled drum set into the coffee shop. I gazed at the stickers and gazed at the hipsters.

Predictable.

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So What’s With the Name, A Speaking Human?

You are a menace. A walking pestilence. – Dr. Zaius.

Welcome to my blog, I am the walking pestilence. “A Speaking Human” is derived from Charlton Heston’s character, George Taylor from Planet of the Apes. The quote by Dr. Zaius sounds like Bill Maher talking to Rush Limbaugh.

Doesn’t it seem like we conservatives are a shocking paradox to the Council of Liberals as Taylor was the Council of Apes? He was a speaking human! A menace! It seems they can’t believe that we actually have minds and we’re able to form coherent sentences. For too long they’ve read their liberal scrolls-the New York Times et al-repeated their euphemistic mantras, and delighted in movies and sitcoms crammed with political correctness to repeat the narrative and reenforce the mythology that all conservative are heartless, narrow-minded idiots.

It’s like we conservatives have come out of the woods-to the their surprise-already house broke and capable of using an indoor toilet. This confounds them. It doesn’t match the narrative they’ve been taught and so they try to cram us back in the outhouse and congratulate themselves on how evolved they are. It is written in the scrolls that we are all big eared inbred hillbillies, living in the fly-over states.

Is the Constitution in ruins, too?

I’m here, along with other conservative bloggers, to continue the confounding so that it may lead to disillusionment, which may be painful for the ‘liberal’, but ultimately worth it. I don’t do this to torment ‘liberals’ (note that on my blog I will usually put the word liberal in quotes because true believing ‘liberals’ are anything but…). Most are living the Matrix (the movie), existing completely clueless as to the core of what they’ve accepted and internalized, and perhaps unwittingly, promote. I see these Matrix ’liberals’ as comfortable and captive. I’m here to help inflict unrest on the comfy and set captives free from illusions. I want them to break free from the Council of Liberals and the so-called “Critical Theory” (google it).

Mainly I will writer about my passion, writing. I will also review movies, comment on music, attempt humor, occasionally do some Christian worldview apologetic, write a short story here and there, and update on the writing of my epic fantasy fiction saga under the working title of Blood and Soul. Book One of the Creed of Kings Saga. Six books are in the works, to be finished and released in sequence.

Sampling of the fourth, and unpublished, book in the Creed of Kings Saga of Intense Action

February 11, 2012 4 comments

Sampling of the fourth, and unpublished, book in the Creed of Kings Saga by Allen Bagby

Kayna has planned to escape the temple where she is currently the Oracle. Her mother, Leyoi, has planned with her. A male co-conspirator named Erif agreed to aid them. As Kayna and Erif made their way to the rendezvous with Leyoi prior to this scene, they met an enormous man named Trute playing a cithara and singing outside a tavern. Trute takes a liking to Kayna and then fades into the background of the story to re-emerge later. We enter the sequence just after Erif has been killed and Kayna is running for her life. Erif had secretly planned to betray Kayna for a lot of money, but at the last moment changed his mind and ended up dying in a sword fight so she could escape.

Action…

________________

Kayna’s hopeless sprint was nearly over. A wooden fence blocked the alley. Driskin and his cohort were closing in, grasping. She knew the intersecting lanes much better, but alas, she could not turn corners fast enough or outrun these men without her horse. She hoped they would give up as she zigzagged through the alleys. She wished for an instant and then despaired as they kept coming. Her legs and lungs burned with fatigue.

One grabbed the tail of her flailing cloak, but she shrugged it off. It slowed her down, but they stumbled and it put some pointless distance between her and the pursuers more for a moment. She came to the fence, spun, and put her back against the slats. She braced herself, clench-fisted, tears spilled. Then the plank at her back gave way and she fell through. She sprung to her feet stunned. The fence jolted as the pursuers slammed into the fence and cursed. Only the one plank was rotten. The break was too small for either of the men. They clawed at her and tried kicking through boards.

She blinked at the turn of fortune. Odor wrinkled her nose as she shuffled back ankle deep in something. The ground moved around her feet, a rat-infested pile of scraps. She gasped and slogged through reeking rubbish toward a door with glowing cracks, but collided with a drunk stumbling out. It was a tavern. She could run through back to the street. The man smiled, using her to hold himself up. He retched and regurgitated on her sandals. She fought to get around him as the pursuers broke through the fence. The drunkard saw them and summoned his inebriated courage. He nudged her aside, stood chest out with chin up, “For the Emperor! May he live forever!” He charged with an imaginary sword and a hiccup, but immediately collapsed forward face down into the pile of waste. The impact sent up a plume of filth.

Kayna pushed through the door into the tavern packed with burly men, mead dripping from their beards. Slack-jawed, they gaped at her. Pressing on, she excused herself politely at first weaving through the celebrants, but halfway in, they realized this was no regular tavern wench and called out, taunting and fondling her, threads ripping on her rough-spun dress. She bit a grubby finger and kicked free. The carousers did not seem to be complete miscreants. They laughed when she cleared the last table and went back to their goblets.

Driskin came through the back entrance, hazy in the thick pipe smoke. The celebrants re-engaged in revelry unwittingly walled off her pursuers. She shot through the open doors into the night. Momentum carried her into the empty street.

The cloak gone, dress flapping at the knees, sandals slapping down the path, she saw the temple glowing on the hill. I’ll make it.

The last bridge. Three more men rushed into the street, cutting her off. She halted and gasped for air, eyes darting around. Two more appeared on her left and crouched stalking toward her. She darted down an alley to her right before they closed the gap. It was the darkest alley she had been down during the exhausting chase. She knew it dead-ended with a drop-off into a swift stream, but there was no choice. The men hesitated, calling out signals. They knew they had her.

It was too late to stop when she glimpsed the mountainous deeper shade amidst the darkness of the alley. She slammed into it and landed on her rump. Supported by her palms, she stared up dazed, trying to comprehend what had happened.

Huge firm hands pulled her up. “No!” She tried to squirm free, impossible.

“Friend run fast.” The voice had a smile in it.

Lips quivering, she whispered, “Please, don’t be with them.”

“Go.” He nudged her lightly, but so firm was his hand, it nearly knocked her down again.

At the end of the alley, she nearly fell down the slope that dropped into the swift deep branch of the river. She picked her way down, fists were smacking with cries of pain behind her. Her foot slipped in a gap, but momentum carried. She jerked the ankle out, but from the pain, she knew it was wrenched. She tumbled down the bank landing in the frigid water.

She gasped from the shock of the cold, the current tugging as she clung to an algae slick rock. Movement on the bank made her shrink back. She wiped wet hair away and risked a glance. It was Driskin, his frame barely outlined in the city’s collective torchlight. His eyes bore down on her. “You ain’t gettin’ away.” He laughed and scampered down but a silhouette rose from behind, engulfing his smaller body. Choking, flailing, and then a grunt, sent Driskin’s body flying overhead to crash in the stream. She glimpsed Driskin’s feeble effort to stay afloat, but he went under gurgling.

The huge figure approached. Her ankle throbbed, teeth chattered. She recognized his face and reached up but lost her grip on the rock. She clawed at the slippery bank but the rushing current dragged her down. She tried to swim, but with one useless ankle, she floundered.

It only took Trute a few enormous strides to bound downstream to the small bridge she would have traversed had the men not forced her down the alley. She reached, desperate. He leaned over the rails and plucked her from the waters. As he hauled her up by the wrist, Driskin lunged from one of the bridge’s support beams and grabbed her around the waist. She thought her shoulder would give way. As Trute lifted, the man slid down her body and seized her sprained ankle. She cried out and let go of Trute’s wrist, but he held on to hers. Still in the water up to his chest, the current dragged Driskin under the bridge but he clung to Kayna as if her foot was the last knot in a rope. Her ribs were grinding against the floor planks of the bridge. Trute could have easily pulled her up, but he did not. Instead, he was feeling along the wooden rail with his free hand. The weight of the man was going to tear off her foot. “Please,” she groaned. Trute broke off a piece of wooden railing just the right size, leaned, and whacked the clinger’s head. Driskin dropped like a corpse, into the racing stream.

Her soaked dress rained on the planks. Trute lowered her and she sat in a puddle shivering. Tears blended with water streaming from her hair. She looked up as she rubbed her ankle, “Did you see my friend?

Trute nodded sadly.

“Is he…?” She could not finish the question.

Trute nodded. He eased her up and cradled her in his massive arms. In the fortress of his muscle, she wondered if he felt the weight of her heavy heart. The morbid dread of the emperor’s visit clutched her as she saw the soft glow of the temple in Trute’s eyes. She rested her head against his chest. He carried her uphill to bitter sanctuary.

#

Leyoi caressed the image on the necklace’s sliver of antler. An Alyndrean should never cherish such things. Forgive me goddess. She had come to Iddissium with a baby girl at her breast. She held the necklace in secret when worrying about Kayna. She had hoped to give up the burden tonight. I ought not to fret. She is a woman now. I will confess everything…on the other side of the river. That hope had changed suddenly…

_______________________

Follow my writer blog at http://artravis.wordpress.com/

Success is evil, let loose the mob

September 23, 2011 Leave a comment
A Republican congressman talks about how highter tax rates cut into business profits and reinvestment, using his businesses as an example.
Rather than take his point about how high taxes help nobody and only hurt businesses, and how the problem is not a tax problem of taking more money from people but a spending problem from an out-of-control government – the biased newscaster instead merely attempts to villainize him simply for making too much money.   The article calls him out of touch with reality.     They entirely overlook his point – which is if government only taxed businesses 10 percent, he might have an extra MILLION laying around to open more stores, create more jobs, increase wages, etc.   Overtaxing small businesses is killing the job-suppliers.
Then, in a headline called “Left blogs stew over Fleming’s 400k”, people go nuts over the “crime” that a hardworking successful American makes more than they do, pushing for socialism and handouts.
Some of the comments are downright scary.   For example:
“Another liberal blogger said that the Fleming’s comments were insensitive to those who made significantly less than him. “You’re complaining that you have only eight times the median salary for American households? Boo. Frakking. Hoo,” said AddictingInfo blogger Justin Rosario. “Are you going to stand in front of a group of children that have no home and have the balls to say that you don’t feel comfortable paying a few extra thousand a year to keep them fed and off the streets?”
Answer:   Yes, Comrade Justin the neo-Communist, that is EXACTLY what we are saying.    Government has NO RIGHT to take away money from those who earned it to give to those who did not.   Stop overdramatizing them as homeless children starving on the streets (when is the last time you’ve seen that in America?) – what we’re really talking about here is Welfare and Handouts and Socialism and Communism, often given to slackers who laugh at work and effort, sitting around in whining entitlement pity-parties, claiming it is unfair that some people have earned more than they get to receive.
Another:
“How dare this guy complain about ‘only’ making 400K per year when families of 4 are living on $12,000 a year?” exclaimed blogger ABL at the liberal blog Balloon Juice.
Answer:   Dolt, he’s not complaining about his own money.    Instead, he’s complaining that even despite all those businesses he owns and revenue from them, that at the end of the day he didn’t have ANOTHER MILLION on top of it that could have been used for massive reinvestment and growth, stimulating the economy for others.    If you earn 5 MILLION dollars, and the government taxes you at 90%, and you only have 500k left over – YEAH, you SHOULD complain.    The amount relative to others is immaterial to the point – except to the truly stupid.
Another:
Daily Kos blogger points out that Fleming’s family includes four adult children between the age of 21 and 32. “So, that means he’s basically budgeting approximately $200K a year for what? Dinners out with his wife?” said Ubiquitous A.
Answer:   Who CARES what he spends his $200,000 on?   House payments, whatnot.   He is not EVIL for EARNING $200k in disposable income.   He worked up to buy and run a number of businesses, he earned it, it is his to enjoy.   I don’t care if he spends 200,000 per year on COMIC BOOKS – that is his RIGHT.
On and on.   This isn’t about whether every facet of the congressman is right, or his numbers, or if republicans or flawless.  The major elephant in the room here – which should greatly alarm ANYONE who understands history of countries before they fall – is how success is now being labeled “evil”, and how cries for socialism are drowning out all sense.
True, it is good when those who have done well are generous to those who are working their way up, but this is their CHOICE.    A righteous government cannot and should not steal one man’s honest earnings to give to another.    Notice I said “those who are working their way up”, I did not say give to those who are “less fortunate” – as fortune and luck often have little to do with it.
And yes, there are many issues afoot here – we do need tax REFORM.   And greater than that, we need to kill big-government insanity spending.     But perhaps bigger than all of those problems is the idiocracy – the stupid, liberal haters who believe whatever they’re puppeted to believe, killing all good principles and freedoms in a stampede of relativism – and how they are rushing like lemmings into the socialist sea.
As with so many countries who have lost their freedoms, a key tactic has ALWAYS been to mobilize the poor against the successful, pitting the lazy C student against the hardworking A student as if it was just “luck” and “unfair”.    Those who pass up opportunities for education (even when offered funds), hard work, job and skill improvement (I know plenty of cases of all these) are then mobilized by corrupt governments and media to hate people who have really, really worked hard, long hours and been frugal with their finances to have a better life – as if they were merely “lucky” – or even “wicked” for doing so, as we’re seeing plain as day here.    It’s the beginning of the end.
Fleming actually said it pretty well:
“Class warfare’s never created a job,” Fleming responded. “And that’s people that will not get jobs. This is all about creating jobs, Chris, this is not about attacking people who make certain incomes. You know in this country, most people feel that being successful in their business is a virtue, not a vice, and once we begin to identify it as a vice, this country is going down.”
Written by guest blogger BrazenBlogger

WHAMMO Moments

September 18, 2011 4 comments

I suspect no one who is reading my blog thinks writing a book is easy, much less an epic heroic fantasy. I remember thinking I would write Creed of Kings in 6 months while having a full-time job! Can you believe that? I assumed it would be difficult, like running a marathon. Confident in my creativity and inspiration I fiddled around with an idea and started.  Some 300,000 words later…well, you get the idea.

If I wasn’t such a perfectionist, I’d have a pile of rejection letters. I fear failure so much that I never surrendered to the common naiveté of so many wannabe writers. Learning the art is a continuing process. I didn’t slap things together and mail it off to an agent/publisher and cross my fingers. My tombstone will say, “Here lies a writer, whose manuscript just kept getting better, and better, and better…”

I’ve had many breakthroughs. I’ve shed a lot of skin, dropped many illusions, lost and gained confidence. I’ve charged the hill more times than I care to remember. One truly has to love this to bloody ones head tirelessly against the wall. I don’t want to settle out of court. I want to win under the harsh blazing sun. I want what I write to stand in that glare and not only survive but thrive in your heart!

I have 9 followers on this blog now and many who travel in from twitter, Facebook, and various other avenues. I owe to you and all the potential readers to deliver the absolute best that I can. But, before you, there is me. It has to rock my own world. If it’s not obvious, I am a harsh critic of my own work. There are many moments that make me smile in the saga I’m writing. I imagine those moments like Christmas gifts under your tree waiting and waiting for the opening. Until I see you smiling in my dream I will keep up the mission.

I know that I have lots of good parts, but I had not made the plot points and paradigms shifts as stark as they needed to bewhen I got to the end of the Creed of Kings in May of this year. I started revising. I thought I was on the final lap, but in an epic this huge there is necessary back story. One character had an odyssey in his past. As I revised, his back story grew and got better. It was too big and weighing down the story much like the student pictured.

The story has to be told. I’m the only one who can tell it. Given the nature of today’s e-publishing revolution it is highly advantages to have multiple (well done!) books available online.  That was the WHAMMO moment.

WHAMMO moments happen in books, movies, life, and the evolution of a striving writer. I realized I had two books on the verge of completion. I unraveled the back story from the main character in Creed and brought it out as its own unique stand alone story. Now, I basically have one book done that needs revisions and I have another book nearing first draft status. Furthermore, looking at things this way, I see a potential for one or two other books (these books are in my head now) prior to the trilogy Creed of Kings, which is already highly realized.

However, I still need to finish…something! I’ve put so much on the line. Walking away from a successful sales career, and I have a lot less than I’m used to now, for about 4 years now, all so I can pursue this life long dream. But, it’s now or never. Come hell or high water I will have a first draft complete within the next 100 days of my current unnamed project. 2012 will be the year! I’m aiming to release two major works within 6 months.

 

Getting Older

September 18, 2011 Leave a comment

Getting older… Getting over …vanity of youth …insanity of fad …from the blind side of sought and the wrong side of ought. Journey out of the naiveté, but ache and wonder resides and spills from the cloven seasons of my heart, even as I laugh, life moves in for the kill.

What was the future is beyond my furrowed brow, but somehow, brightness shines in the valleys between far away thrills, bridging the distance of that old resistance in an instance, to other hidden fields. The wonders of pain and stain, of sunshine and gain are all in the palm of my gazing mind, reshaping, improving thoughts that were blind or unkind. With a thought quick as a glance, smooth as a changing stance, leaping on the tip of icebergs galore, foundations of floating depth explored.

I’m not what I pretended, less than I intended and far less than I apprehended. There is grander I cannot grasp…a pleasant and powerful undercurrent to life parallels the misery, sensed only with my meager knack to detect wonder, as I stand astride two destinies, one good, one nil. Seems to me truth is more ancient than light, rolling like waves with such force I crouch to the deck on my squeaky little ship. There is more air than I can breathe more sun than I can soak up or see.

Life will rob you of peace, but think of no other riches than those of heart. Life takes its toll but strive for no other greatness than that of soul.

Victoria Jackson: There’s a Communist Living in the White House

Politics 101: An Awakening

I gave a speech (more of a stand up routine) in McKinney, Texas at Collin County Conservative Republicans (CCCR) back in 2009. I loved doing it. It was my first captive live audience. I did not pick an easy topic. I mixed it with my style of humor to lighten things up. My talk was based on Jonah Goldberg’s book Liberal Fascism, a great book!

I know my talk upset a woman in the front row. She interrupted me two or three times. She did not want to accept what I was presenting. It did not match her worldview. Years ago, I would not have been able to grasp it either.

Below is mini-version first part of that talk, which is a brief explanation of my awakening and breaking out of modes of thought handed to me by media, music, and art. I will break up the rest of the talk in bite size pieces in the near future. Let’s see if I offend you, too.

 

H. G. Wells, who has written some great books, was the first to utter the term. He did not mean it as an oxymoron or an indictment; he meant it as a rallying cry. In his speech at Oxford in 1932, he told the Young Liberals that progressives must become “liberal fascists” and “enlightened Nazis”. Yes, you read that right. Look it up.

I’m not a master but a student of history. I’m not an armchair historian, I’m more like a barstool historian. I’m a lot like you; a regular person looking at my country and wondering what is happening and on a quest for the deep reasons why.

In the late 70s my mind was occupied with girls, I watched Happy Days and thought the Fonz was cool. I went to Rocky and Star Wars and I listened to Top 40 on KIKM, Kick ‘em. I thought John Lennon’s song “Imagine” was the real anthem. The biggest world event was the hostage crisis in Iran, the beginning of the modern Jihad, but it was far away from a teenage boy. I watched the news, ABC’s World News Tonight. It was about things happening in faraway places that I could not reach riding my bike. Even if I got the car I was dying for, I couldn’t get there. It was in a galaxy far far away. Closer to home, ABC caused me to be more worried over Ronald Reagan than Jihadist, because even in 70’s the media had a ‘liberal’ bias against ‘conservatives’. The media’s summation of Reagan said, if he could find the White House, he would stumble in, launch the Nukes at Russia, like Marvin the Martian, and blow up the earth in the process. Jimmy Carter had gone good-bye and Armageddon was obviously next, and it was all Reagan’s fault.

However, Reagan’s speeches did not match the hideous bias I heard on ABC World News Tonight and 60 Minutes. I wasn’t very discerning then. I watched Reagan’s soaring State of the Union addresses and his delightful banter with the press. He would have me pumping my fist as if I was at a Van Halen concert, then Peter Jennings, or whoever, would come on, and ruin it. I did not think Jennings had an agenda in those days. He pretended to be unbiased. I could not withstand it when they dissected Reagan speeches. No one stepped to enlighten me further on what Jennings & Co would say. Eventually Reagan won my heart and mind, anyway.

Martin Luther King’s and Gandhi’s Non-violence

Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon, which cuts without wounding and ennobles the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals.

The pacifism/non-violence these icons used should not be a universal truth. The non-violence used by Gandhi and MLK was a method used in correct circumstances. I don’t know if MLK would have used it in all cases, I do know Gandhi would have. If MLK or Gandhi would have tried non-violence in Taliban Afghanistan or Nazi Germany they would’ve been beheaded or gassed and thus ending their great moral movements. Pacifism assumes everyone is good at heart and reasonable, that the oppressor or tyrant only need enlightenment brought about by the suffering of the oppressed. This is rarely true in human history and endangers civilization. The Gandhi quote below proves the naiveté his non-violent pacifistic stance. He directed these words of advice to the suffering of Jews in Germany during the Third Reich.

I shudder to think what the world might look like if Gandhi had been the leader of England and not the proponent of moral violence, Winston Churchill.

“I am as certain…the stoniest German heart will melt [if only the Jews] adopt active non-violence…I do not despair of his [Hitler’s] responding to human suffering even though caused by him.” Gandhi

Granted, civil disobedience works when the goodhearted and reasonable outnumber the evil and unreasonable. It works better than violence although not immediately when you’re dealing with a Winston Churchill or Lyndon B. Johnson because there is a chance to create opportunity for reasoning together when a culture values human life. MLK appealed to the founding fathers’ principle of liberty and pointed this out to the white majority. He used the Constitution against the decedents whose forefathers wrote it. That was simple and brilliant.

Translation: I've stopped thinking. I give up.

The British ruled India, but they were basically civilized people who finally listened. They ‘tolerated’ Gandhi’s active pacifism. They let him slide. But, they knew, based on their own moral standards, that Gandhi held the moral high ground as did King. The British realized, as did Americans with the Civil Rights movement, that they were contradicting what was supposed to be their own values. That’s why it worked.

The philosophy of non-violence or pacifism only works in atmosphere where people are willing to reason. Pacifism will not work against Islamo-fascist, Nazis, drug cartels, or terrorist. I think if you move to a universal stance of non-violence it’s an immoral position and will ultimately result in murder and tyranny.

The Lie of New Age Open-mindedness

August 14, 2011 2 comments

Open-mindedness is, without question, considered a cardinal virtue of the new age. To deconstruct frameworks of understanding the world is ‘open-minded’. To tear constructs apart and leave scattered confusion is ‘unbiased’. To ignore the devastation wrought on a soul is ‘enlightenment’. To fill the void with the thin watery tasteless gruel of “the truth to you is not the truth to me” is ‘wholesome’.

I don’t consider the absolute open mind to be virtuous. Thankfully, some people are finally starting to think about it more although it is perhaps too late for our culture. Is anyone shocked that I said I don’t consider open-mindedness a virtue? Yes! Because many misunderstand the problem I have with the so-called ‘open mind’. Open-mindedness today means, “Judge not lest ye be judged” which is a biblical quote torn from context. That verse is better known than John 3:16 nowadays. Non-Christians seem to quote it more than anyone does. The quote is like Kryptonite for the well-meaning but un-thinking Christian. These days open-mindedness is, in effect, saying that making distinctions (judgments) is wrong. I think I’m morally obligated to judge. An open mind today is an ultra-hyper-tolerant mind that stands for very little because it fears being thought of as narrow-minded: fear of making distinction. The fifteen to twenty-five crowd typically desire distinction only in clothing or tattoos or hair, not in thought. They seem to crave adherence to groupthink under their various appearances of clothing and hair.

Paradoxically, the so-called ‘open mind’ today is the most pre-judgmental and intolerant of all. It wants to put everyone under an indistinguishable collective unity, the ‘correct’ – politically correct – system. It breaks down gender roles, melds all religions into one (thereby diminishing the distinctions), and insists all cultures are equal. Many, especially ‘liberals’, think that open-mindedness is one of the highest moral virtues one can have. I think open-mindedness, as it is known today, will cause your mind to be polluted.

Not all ideas are equal by virtue of mere existence. You must inspect (judge) the ideas at the gate of your mind or you will be slaughtered from the inside out. You cannot open up to everything. The old saying goes: You must stand for something or you’ll fall for anything. And wow, do we have multitudes imploding. Open-mindedness is discernment starving. Something will fill that vacuum. Unguarded minds are stuffed with uninspected cargo, weighted down but empty of understanding. Open-mindedness says nothing is objectionable. That is a lie.

What is the answer? Have an open VIEW and an ACTIVE mind.

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