The third way

Sometimes I wake up screaming because of how awesome I am at figuring things out, for example how to make a sufficiently-heavy Indian Club out of a Whifflebat without having to gouge a bigger hole out of the end of the grip. Other times, I've just realized (again) that my default what-if reverie where I had prostituted my way through a certain Southern Baptist institute of higher learning is a hideous joke compared to the reality of every last woman and child who have been sold into slavery. This week's, uh, focus of intent has been reading about sex-trafficking. I was impressed to read that Italy has legalized street prostitution--no, really! And a brililliant answer to juvenile idleness is to have them huddled in a shivering mass of brassieres and panties during the wintertime. We really should look more to Europe for all aspects of public policy and general chic-ness. Or shriekness.

!

I did the Food Not Bombs thing this afternoon after introducing myself all over again. I tried not to look as clueless this time--are you really proud of me? It was all for you!

Now down-here in Alabama, we've been enjoying four seasons a month. I promise I thought it was hot this morning, and so because I packed inappropriately for today's excursion, I'm standing in the middle of a truly-fascinating conversation with my teeth chattering. I let it pass for intelligent participation, and am rewarded with the conversants facing each other without actually needing to look at me. There was a young Black Tibetan Buddhist and a White anarchist of indeterminate age who creates montage-recordings of politically conservatives. And I realize that it all makes sense and is crucial to the existance and identity of this-here country.

I believe we live in a world of conflict-that-perpetuates-conflict because conflict is to be avoided at all costs. I know I'd be a much-better and more-comprehensible prose-writer if conflict wasn't a conceptual hole for me. How you are doing it wrong, though, is that to have "peace," all dissenters must be eliminated. "We all have to agree with me" stops being a fun absurdity when the policy is actually carried-out. So here I am on the sidewalk with two threats to America, feeling a tee-niny bit revolutionary myself, and I decide that, no, I will not need to be mindful of consistent verb-tense usage on this post, and it really does take all of us uppity people to keep the country from moving forward. Off the cliff.

I'm going to come out--I know, honestly I don't get how there's anything left either!--as a non-Capitalist and non-patriot. I used to wrestle with how to incorporate my somewhat-conservative beliefs with Conservatism, among other "great and completely-clear truths," and thanks be to the Internet, now I don't have to. There really has been a Plan C the whole time.

DISTRIBUTISM and CHRISTIAN ANARCHY. The terms have been up there on the blog description for a few days now already, so I suppose a dramatic gasp of revelation is too much to ask for. And the really-dumb thing is I had attributed this with YET ANOTHER FINE GEN-X PRODUCT OF TOMORROW'S INGENUITY TODAY (you know, before the Millenials lay claim to it), and the philosophy has only been around for, like, oh I don't know, a whole century-or-so. No big deal. The Internet also is happy to provide arguments against these new/old ideas, and all I can say is that Capitalists, Socialists, and Distributists; Republicans, Democrats, and Independents, all have to stand on the sidewalk in the strange cold and share all of the ideas if anyone is going to learn anything. The first person to be proved embarrasingly-incorrect does not ever provide for all the others to be comfortably correct. Reality is not that easy, and I'm a little confused about how we've managed to forget that.