Thinking on what you wrote here, I reflected on the movie "Dead Poets Society." It seemed to offer an angle on this topic. It's about an aristocratic school for boys. It's a bit difficult to place it, because the movie doesn't talk about when it's set, perhaps the 1950s or '60s, based on the fashions the characters wore. The movie features a character by the name of Neil, one of the students, who discovers a love for acting through a literature class taught by a Mr. Keating, but his father strenuously objects. He's to become a doctor (as I remember), and that's the end of it. His intolerance is so severe, you get the sense that he's ready to disown Neil if he doesn't toe the line.
Neil disobeys his father, and stars as Puck in a stage production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He loves it, but his father dashes any hopes he has of becoming an actor. Neil is heartbroken, and goes on a downward spiral. The father, and eventually the school, blames Keating for Neil's actions, giving him "foolish hopes."
What I get out of the story is that Keating breathes life into his students through literature. This is revealed in a line where he says that engineering, medicine, science are all worthy pursuits, but what he teaches is about what people live *for*.
Each of the main characters finds passion and joy through the literature they discover through a club they revive, called "the Dead Poets Society." That joy turns to sadness and despair, due to a cold intolerance toward this striving for joy. A corrupt bargain ensues where Mr. Keating is fired from his job at the school.
What was sad for me about this story was that Neil, like teenagers are, doesn't realize he has his whole life ahead of him. He thinks his fate is sealed by his domineering father. He's destined for a life of misery, carrying out his father's wishes, and he can't imagine surviving it. What I wish someone had told him was that if he could just be patient, do what his father demanded of him for a while longer, and then once he had emancipated himself, he could choose his own path.
I was struck reading some other people's comments about this movie in the last few years, because the dominant theme with them was that Neil really was stuck. His fate was sealed by his father, his family. He didn't have a choice. Given the trajectory he was on, he was going to become part of the cold aristocracy, and that was that. I don't know, but these comments seemed to come with some regret from people who have experienced this trajectory. I disagree with them. We always have choices. We won't always like them. We may have to sacrifice a lot to make them, and learn a new way to live, stumbling, and looking foolish along the way, because a lot of the old supports are removed, and you have to learn about new supports you find, and can fashion for yourself, but there are usually choices we can make. The catch is we have to be willing to accept whatever comes with them, and we may not like that in the short term. That's enough to scare a lot of people into not taking a different path. For some people, it's only by taking the risk of losing everything they have known that they gain happiness and joy. I think you have been on that path, and it was heartwarming to read your story about finding happiness in "the rest of America."
Aesthetically, we have been living in grey tyranny for a long time. You can see it in the colour of the houses of the well-heeled - and those who aspire to well-heeled status. I call them birdy-poop houses. 50 shades of lifeless. No more happy yellows and pinks and blues. They're all somewhat sludge-like.
Love the twinkly shoes! Can't fathom why the liberal set would "e-shoe" them! Joyless bunch, indeed. 😏
Rereading this article searching for the one you speak of women becoming tyrannical upon gaining power - to share with the founder of Deep Peace Animal Sanctuary in Australia recently lamenting the particular viciousness of women in the Australian Government particularly those advocating and promoting the destruction by culling of native Brumbies and Kangaroos. Possible to point to the article Dr. Wolf (or any reader?) Thank you!
I remember being crushed when I realized that the poly-blend 'Oxford' style shirt I chose and packed with such care embarking from a Midwestern public school to a small east coast college would mark me as an alien. The code of the elite was invisible, ubiquitous and merciless. Years later, I heard tell of a party in the Hamptons where drones dropped cashmere sweaters for the guests who might be cold. Yeah, they might get cold. And while a draft of crisp air is seldom the kiss of death, the cool draft encircling the elite is, as a cedar-scented candle is to real cedar: contrived and suffocating. You make want to rock a John Deere T-shirt and I just may.
Well, while attending a state university after growing up in small isolated Pennsylvania town (without a car or tv for several years while a teenager), I was shocked at several things. But one of the funniest was when this Philly suburban dude (with a constant popped collar) lamented the fact they he had to go home to get his spring clothes and take back his winter clothes. I was flabbergasted. It never occurred to me that someone could have so many clothes that they had to have seasonal shifts since I couldn't even fill up my dorm closet with all my clothes. So, I can't even imagine dealing with an even more remote demographic.
Excellent analysis. And I think the liveral elites hate themselves. They hate their privilege and their comfort. So they make everyone happy with their lives out to be the bad guys. Their minds are warped by the comforts they refuse to abandon.
Once I learned to distinguish between country and government, I was finally able to love my country. I left behind the empty promises and the dead souls of those making those meaningless promises. Since I live in a very liberal city in New York, it's difficult to find anyone who isn't brainwashed and who hasn't given up their capacity for thought to their worshipped lying "leaders", so I turn to the earth and spend most of my time gardening and planning my garden. It give me great joy in living, something the liberal society cannot do. I can do without friends. I've realized that I made more friends in 6 years in Florida than I have in the 64 years I've lived in New York. The people I knew were not pretentious and far more real that the liberals of NY, who strive only to be just like everyone else. Joy in life is not their goal. My friends in Florida were all about living and enjoying each day. In NY, all people want to do is find another group to hate on. It's sad and I don't desire their "friendship."
I'm happy to find someone like Naomi, who has had a similar awakening. These days, the only friends I like are people I only know through online. We may not be together in person, but we are in spirit and I appreciate the refuge I can find with my online people.
Dr Wolf, you are totally welcome in "the rest of America," which in my case is Louisiana. Come visit some time. And thanks for your brave and honorable witness. You are doing God's work, and I mean that literally.
Once a sociopath, always a sociopath. Circumstances don't create them, even if they occasionally give them opportunity. The sociopaths I've known personally have lots of fun, but always at someone else's expense.
The orthodox Christian's route to knowledge of what is evil, delusional, warped and perverted... and dare I say it? Yes I do! Un-Godly ... is much more direct than all the hoops to jump through as seen in this piece of writing.
And by the way, I lived in New York City in the 1970's and studied at the Arts Student's League on 57th Street, almost kitty-corner to Carnegie Hall where I used to watch 'art' flicks in the basement cinema. And I can tell you, and in my humble opinion ... that most of the art scene was already arid, and as dry as dust. Also, the political machinery was well on its way towards the horrors of New York of the 21st century of our present era. And I cannot tell you how grateful I am in retrospect to have moved out of New York by late 1979. And come Covid Health Tyranny, I no longer have any doubts whatsoever about 'of the rightness' that decision.
I totally agree on the Liberal Elites, all losers! I saw a lot of these types in my growing up ... even some with recognizable family names. Better to be a Regular Joe than one of these! And I can totally relate to Naomi's thoughts on these people in question. LOSERS ... ONE AND ALL!
I quit my fancy job when the mandate came. I had some concern about a demotion from wonderful to trash without a job. But I was in truth somewhere between those extremes and nothing changed. Here’s the thing. I always thought CROCS were weird. I could not imagine wearing them. Was it because I was too cool or because, in my extreme “cool” deficiency, wearing such dorky footwear would push me over the cliff of irredeemability? Whichever it was, the Mrs. ordered them for me. One pair in “camouflage” and a pair medium
Brown ... “dress” CROCS. To my everlasting incredulity they are exquisitely comfortable. Lost 30lb ... check. Trashed the TV ... check. Comment prolifically on Substack, CHD, Epoch Times, Dershow (I love this man but he is off the wall regarding the shots) ... check. Got some 60’s art T-shirts, hit the beach on my camouflage CROCS ... check. My colleagues died, but I live ... check. I have a loyal following of seagulls at the beach who listen patiently. Or did they just want another piece of cracker?
Thinking on what you wrote here, I reflected on the movie "Dead Poets Society." It seemed to offer an angle on this topic. It's about an aristocratic school for boys. It's a bit difficult to place it, because the movie doesn't talk about when it's set, perhaps the 1950s or '60s, based on the fashions the characters wore. The movie features a character by the name of Neil, one of the students, who discovers a love for acting through a literature class taught by a Mr. Keating, but his father strenuously objects. He's to become a doctor (as I remember), and that's the end of it. His intolerance is so severe, you get the sense that he's ready to disown Neil if he doesn't toe the line.
Neil disobeys his father, and stars as Puck in a stage production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He loves it, but his father dashes any hopes he has of becoming an actor. Neil is heartbroken, and goes on a downward spiral. The father, and eventually the school, blames Keating for Neil's actions, giving him "foolish hopes."
What I get out of the story is that Keating breathes life into his students through literature. This is revealed in a line where he says that engineering, medicine, science are all worthy pursuits, but what he teaches is about what people live *for*.
Each of the main characters finds passion and joy through the literature they discover through a club they revive, called "the Dead Poets Society." That joy turns to sadness and despair, due to a cold intolerance toward this striving for joy. A corrupt bargain ensues where Mr. Keating is fired from his job at the school.
What was sad for me about this story was that Neil, like teenagers are, doesn't realize he has his whole life ahead of him. He thinks his fate is sealed by his domineering father. He's destined for a life of misery, carrying out his father's wishes, and he can't imagine surviving it. What I wish someone had told him was that if he could just be patient, do what his father demanded of him for a while longer, and then once he had emancipated himself, he could choose his own path.
I was struck reading some other people's comments about this movie in the last few years, because the dominant theme with them was that Neil really was stuck. His fate was sealed by his father, his family. He didn't have a choice. Given the trajectory he was on, he was going to become part of the cold aristocracy, and that was that. I don't know, but these comments seemed to come with some regret from people who have experienced this trajectory. I disagree with them. We always have choices. We won't always like them. We may have to sacrifice a lot to make them, and learn a new way to live, stumbling, and looking foolish along the way, because a lot of the old supports are removed, and you have to learn about new supports you find, and can fashion for yourself, but there are usually choices we can make. The catch is we have to be willing to accept whatever comes with them, and we may not like that in the short term. That's enough to scare a lot of people into not taking a different path. For some people, it's only by taking the risk of losing everything they have known that they gain happiness and joy. I think you have been on that path, and it was heartwarming to read your story about finding happiness in "the rest of America."
"... anaemic self-denial" - I love it!
Aesthetically, we have been living in grey tyranny for a long time. You can see it in the colour of the houses of the well-heeled - and those who aspire to well-heeled status. I call them birdy-poop houses. 50 shades of lifeless. No more happy yellows and pinks and blues. They're all somewhat sludge-like.
Love the twinkly shoes! Can't fathom why the liberal set would "e-shoe" them! Joyless bunch, indeed. 😏
Rereading this article searching for the one you speak of women becoming tyrannical upon gaining power - to share with the founder of Deep Peace Animal Sanctuary in Australia recently lamenting the particular viciousness of women in the Australian Government particularly those advocating and promoting the destruction by culling of native Brumbies and Kangaroos. Possible to point to the article Dr. Wolf (or any reader?) Thank you!
Stay brave, stay free.
I remember being crushed when I realized that the poly-blend 'Oxford' style shirt I chose and packed with such care embarking from a Midwestern public school to a small east coast college would mark me as an alien. The code of the elite was invisible, ubiquitous and merciless. Years later, I heard tell of a party in the Hamptons where drones dropped cashmere sweaters for the guests who might be cold. Yeah, they might get cold. And while a draft of crisp air is seldom the kiss of death, the cool draft encircling the elite is, as a cedar-scented candle is to real cedar: contrived and suffocating. You make want to rock a John Deere T-shirt and I just may.
Welcome to the rest of AMERICA. Nice story thank you.
You've clearly had a Mark Studdock experience.
Well, while attending a state university after growing up in small isolated Pennsylvania town (without a car or tv for several years while a teenager), I was shocked at several things. But one of the funniest was when this Philly suburban dude (with a constant popped collar) lamented the fact they he had to go home to get his spring clothes and take back his winter clothes. I was flabbergasted. It never occurred to me that someone could have so many clothes that they had to have seasonal shifts since I couldn't even fill up my dorm closet with all my clothes. So, I can't even imagine dealing with an even more remote demographic.
Excellent analysis. And I think the liveral elites hate themselves. They hate their privilege and their comfort. So they make everyone happy with their lives out to be the bad guys. Their minds are warped by the comforts they refuse to abandon.
Once I learned to distinguish between country and government, I was finally able to love my country. I left behind the empty promises and the dead souls of those making those meaningless promises. Since I live in a very liberal city in New York, it's difficult to find anyone who isn't brainwashed and who hasn't given up their capacity for thought to their worshipped lying "leaders", so I turn to the earth and spend most of my time gardening and planning my garden. It give me great joy in living, something the liberal society cannot do. I can do without friends. I've realized that I made more friends in 6 years in Florida than I have in the 64 years I've lived in New York. The people I knew were not pretentious and far more real that the liberals of NY, who strive only to be just like everyone else. Joy in life is not their goal. My friends in Florida were all about living and enjoying each day. In NY, all people want to do is find another group to hate on. It's sad and I don't desire their "friendship."
I'm happy to find someone like Naomi, who has had a similar awakening. These days, the only friends I like are people I only know through online. We may not be together in person, but we are in spirit and I appreciate the refuge I can find with my online people.
Dr Wolf, you are totally welcome in "the rest of America," which in my case is Louisiana. Come visit some time. And thanks for your brave and honorable witness. You are doing God's work, and I mean that literally.
Once a sociopath, always a sociopath. Circumstances don't create them, even if they occasionally give them opportunity. The sociopaths I've known personally have lots of fun, but always at someone else's expense.
The orthodox Christian's route to knowledge of what is evil, delusional, warped and perverted... and dare I say it? Yes I do! Un-Godly ... is much more direct than all the hoops to jump through as seen in this piece of writing.
And by the way, I lived in New York City in the 1970's and studied at the Arts Student's League on 57th Street, almost kitty-corner to Carnegie Hall where I used to watch 'art' flicks in the basement cinema. And I can tell you, and in my humble opinion ... that most of the art scene was already arid, and as dry as dust. Also, the political machinery was well on its way towards the horrors of New York of the 21st century of our present era. And I cannot tell you how grateful I am in retrospect to have moved out of New York by late 1979. And come Covid Health Tyranny, I no longer have any doubts whatsoever about 'of the rightness' that decision.
I totally agree on the Liberal Elites, all losers! I saw a lot of these types in my growing up ... even some with recognizable family names. Better to be a Regular Joe than one of these! And I can totally relate to Naomi's thoughts on these people in question. LOSERS ... ONE AND ALL!
A message for us:
On YouTube 6-13-23: the counteroffensive (The Duran with Scott Ritter)
https://www.youtube.com/live/GBZF9LCTyqY?feature=share
I quit my fancy job when the mandate came. I had some concern about a demotion from wonderful to trash without a job. But I was in truth somewhere between those extremes and nothing changed. Here’s the thing. I always thought CROCS were weird. I could not imagine wearing them. Was it because I was too cool or because, in my extreme “cool” deficiency, wearing such dorky footwear would push me over the cliff of irredeemability? Whichever it was, the Mrs. ordered them for me. One pair in “camouflage” and a pair medium
Brown ... “dress” CROCS. To my everlasting incredulity they are exquisitely comfortable. Lost 30lb ... check. Trashed the TV ... check. Comment prolifically on Substack, CHD, Epoch Times, Dershow (I love this man but he is off the wall regarding the shots) ... check. Got some 60’s art T-shirts, hit the beach on my camouflage CROCS ... check. My colleagues died, but I live ... check. I have a loyal following of seagulls at the beach who listen patiently. Or did they just want another piece of cracker?
Wonderful article! welcome to the rest of America!!