“Sanity” is in the eye of the beholder
And when we nurture and accept and then institutionalize the idea of a consensus-driven “truth” that in turn is born of an interpretive paradigm that grants itself permission to determine, by way of will to power, the intent of others, then ascribe it to them, it is a short step to dictating that to be sane, one must hew to the prevailing power’s orthodoxy — leaving the meaning of insane rather axiomatic.
It worked for the Soviets, after all.
But then, there I go again with all my fundamentally unserious language talk. When what we need to be doing is working on the Republican “brand” and ridding the party of junior troublemakers and constitutional fetishists! We have to win to fight!
Or so we’re told.
Fact is, we are living in terrifying times. And just because our President has yet to grow a mustache and start capering around in fatigues with medals pinned to his chest and ornate epaulettes on his shoulders doesn’t mean we aren’t living under a camouflaged dictatorship.
We are. But it’s of the post-modern leftist variety. Where all things military are vulgar, and so the proper uniform is a tailored designer suit and a law degree from an ivy league school — all while pretending that you are “for the little guy” who you wryly believe is too fucking stupid to see that you’re actually out to crush such vermin — or at least, re-situate them at the lower end of the economic scale where they belong so that you and your governmental agencies can more conveniently control the filthy, dull things.
ObamaCare will, in time, be used — along with the IRS and local complicit law enforcement agencies in complicit progressive-run state and local governments — to seize your weapons and justify, through “mental health concerns”, the rescinding of your 2nd Amendment rights. Many of we pseudo-intellectuals with our intentionalist clown noses have been noting this for years now.
Which I guess means you’ll just have to go outlaw and take your chances. Which are better, I’d say, once you go outlaw and decide to take your chances.
Better to die on your feet than to live on your knees and all that.
No. I won’t bow before Zod. In fact, fuck Zod. Who had better prepare himself for a Krytonite enema once the tyranny reaches critical mass.