WE DRIVE down the mountain every week to the state capital, mostly for shopping at Costco and Superama.
And to grab a lunch.
We rarely go directly into the center of town because traffic is snarly, and free parking is hard to find.
Yesterday, while my child bride was doing chores, I drove downtown for a look-see. That array of sidewalk tables sits across from a music conservatory called Las Rosas.
When I lived in the capital for seven months in 2000, I occasionally ate here. At the time there was only one establishment on this end, and another on the far end.
Those in the middle were not there.
Mexicans are fond of protesting in the streets and highways. More often than not, it’s teachers who want guaranteed jobs and the right to bequeath those jobs to unqualified relatives at retirement. Teachers also loath competence tests.
To counter these malcontents, police often take to the streets en masse. That’s what you see in the second photo. They were just standing there in body armor and shields.
I saw no impending strife nearby, so …
Being a cop must be very boring at times.
Sidewalk restaurants, cops and churches. The state capital is full of churches. That’s one just above. I snapped the photo while sitting on a bench in a plaza of yet another church directly behind me. Churches galore.
We sit at sidewalk eateries. We want guaranteed jobs. And we kneel and pray everywhere. All of those things happen in quantity down the mountain in the state capital.
You see it in the growing strife across the United States. The Trump-Hillary conflict is at heart a conflict between multiculturalists and nationalists.
The antonym of multiculturalist is nationalist.
As Europe is bludgeoned into multiculturalism by screwball governments, you see growing strife there too.
People of different religions, beliefs, languages and race do not sit comfortably in the living rooms of their opposites. In a perfect world, they would sit there comfortably, sharing tea, crumpets and conversation, but that world doesn’t exist.
Borders have always existed.
Tearing them down is a fool’s endeavor.
The Iliad Institute, formed after the suicide of a French nationalist named Dominique Venner, made the above video, which celebrates the distinctive history of Europe.
It’s a mindset that America should encourage.
Mexico does not celebrate multiculturalism. We celebrate Mexicanism. We are nationalist. That’s good.
WALKING THROUGH the living room the other day, the FM station was playing a nice classical work, and I thought, “That would be good to die to,” and I envisioned falling forward onto the ceramic floor, dead as that doornail.
I was in a good mood when the thought struck me, and dying in a good mood is desirable. Dying to music is common in movies, but I wonder how often it happens in real life. Not much, I think.
A sudden death, which is how I want it, would reduce the chances of dying to good music, something that likely requires planning. Which is best? Dying suddenly to no music or a prolonged demise to good music. The sudden death wins out because you want to go fast, music or not.
Good mood, fine music, healthy and sudden. That’s how I want to sail away. Of course, a sudden death contradicts the notion of healthy, but let’s imagine it was an unknown heart problem that brought down the curtain. Just thinking you’re healthy till the final moment is enough.
But if a sudden death isn’t in the cards, I would like some good music playing on Departure Day. Kitaro’s Light of the Spirit is the top pick, something I’ve loved since the late 1990s. Downing some ecstasy and turning on that Kitaro tune is a religious experience in itself.
Try it. You’ll see.
A close runner-up would be one of a number of songs by the appropriately named Dead Can Dance. A real standout is their Host of Seraphim, a fine piece to shuttle you off into that distant space where resides whatever God or Goddess you put your money on.
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(A close runner-up to Host of Seraphim is Yulunga. About the 3:18 mark on the video, it moves into high gear visually, going multicultural in a spectacularly fine way.)
WHY DO CATHOLICS have a Main Man, but Protestants do not?
The Catholics, due to having a main man, get lots of press coverage. Protestants lack that. They are a fractured people.
I am neither Protestant nor Catholic, but I believe in balance.
So I propose that Protestants unite to choose a Main Man — maybe even a Main Woman because Protestants, as a rule, are less hidebound than Catholics. Well, some of them.
A convention must be held, perhaps akin to Burning Man, where Protestants can come together. This will require plenty of compromise because Protestants are a mixed bag, ranging from high-toned Presbyterians to Westboro Baptist Church crackpots.
After a Main Man — or Woman — is chosen, a Protestant Vatican must be decided upon. Outside of the United States is preferable so visits to Washington will seem more special, inspiring more press coverage.
Somewhere in the Middle East is a fine choice since Jesus Christ walked thereabouts. As the Catholic Pope has armed guards and a bulletproof vehicle, the Protestant Main Man — or Woman — will need this too, due to being around so many pissed-off Mohammedans.
All of this will require money, so an expanded tithe must be applied to all Protestant denominations.
Twenty-five percent sounds about right.
This will finance a huge Protestant Palace among the Mohammedans. And then there’s the Wardrobe.
As the Pope wears women’s clothes, the Protestant Main Man should do likewise. It will attract attention. If a Main Woman is chosen, a James Bond tuxedo will serve the purpose.
After a Main Man (Woman) is named, a Protestant Palace situated, armed guards hired (with suitable frippery), at least two bulletproof Hummers at the door, the only thing left to do is make smoke and water holy.
THE AUSSIES are admirable. They enforce their borders, as all intelligent nations do. Get caught in Mexico without permission, and you’ll be booted out unceremoniously. Well, unless you’re part of the mobs of Central Americans just passing through on their way to the Rio Bravo.
That amuses us. Don’t jump off the roof of the train though.
I do not support multiculturalism or diversity as a national policy because it leads to grief and mayhem. A quick glance at the United States or borderless Europe these days offers proof positive of that. Devotion to diversity is, of course, a part of politically correct nuttiness.
The Aussies realize that Australia is for Australians. You can move to Australia, but you must do it legally, and I imagine Australia wants you to learn English, assimilate, get a job, and doff your chador.
And say “mate” a lot.
Nations that work best are mono-cultural, mono-lingual, mono-religious, and citizens sport the same skin tone. Commonalities are the building blocks of a nation, the sine qua non.
SWEDEN HAS long been cited by collectivists as the perfectly functioning social democracy where free healthcare, free this-and-that, exist in a nation where everyone is happy. Overlook those killer taxes.
It’s my loony, lefty sister’s ideal nation* and it’s been praised in comments hereabouts too. Yes, Sweden does it right.
Travelling hand-in-hand with social democracy these days are other notions like open borders, diversity and multiculturalism. These latter stances are add-ons to the older philosophy of social democracy.
None of it works well, to state it mildly.
Multiculturalism is flushing Sweden down the johnny hole. Let’s take a break to watch this smart Swedish journalist expounding on the dismal state of her once-nice homeland:
The multicultural issue in Sweden, as it is in most of socially democratic Europe, is primarily Mohammedan, a dismal, backward, violent religion/culture that harbors no desire to integrate with others while simultaneously embracing Europe’s generous welfare systems.
A persistent claim in collectivist circles is that all cultures have value and are equal. This is arrant nonsense. Some are far superior to others. Related is the fact that a nation is a geographical area where citizens for the most part share religion, language, beliefs and skin tone.
Successful nations are homogeneous, not multicultural.
Oh, you can toss in a little salt with the pepper or vice versa, but only up to a point. My being in Mexico is an example. Passing that point, all Hades can break out, and Hades is alive and thriving in Sweden, sadly.
I LIVE AMONG steeples, and all of them are Catholic. Oh, there are other religions, usually referred to as “Christian” because most Mexicans, deep in their hearts, bizarrely do not regard Catholicism as a Christian religion.
It’s just Catholicism, period, the one accurate Voice of God.
Other religions are Christian, or cristianos in español. Perhaps in the big cities of Guadalajara, Monterrey and Mexico City people recognize Methodists, Baptists and so on, but here on the mountaintop we just have “the” religion of Catholicism and cristianos who sometimes behave like Holy Rollers because they are really joyful.
Catholics are not joyful. They are somber, especially when walking on their knees over rocks to demonstrate their seriousness and love of God, Jesus and the Virgin Mary.
The cristianos sometimes parade in the streets, all shucking and jiving. Catholics never shuck and jive.
We also have Jehovah’s Witnesses who enjoy ringing doorbells and annoying people. My child bride’s evil stepmother and a number of her half-siblings have gone over to the dark side of Jehovah’s Witnessing.
I enjoy watching Catholicism even though I’m no believer, especially now with Pope Francis who appears to be an ignoramus. The Catholics excel at religious architecture and, as I was driving up a downtown hill today, I noticed this view. So I got out of the car and snapped it.
The Baptists, Methodists and certainly not the Jehovah’s Witnesses lack the Catholics’ architectural spirit.