FROM BACK IN APRIL 2007. BROUGHT TO THE FRONT. I’D MAKE SOME CHANGES TO THE PRIVATIZATION STORY WERE I WRITING THIS TODAY. FOR THE MOMENT I’VE GIVEN UP ON FREE ENTERPRISE INFRASTRUCTURE. NOT FOR ALL TIME, BUT THE CURRENT THEORETICIANS AREN’T UP TO IT NOR ARE THEY UP TO LISTENING.
The energy-deprivation crusade has likely already shortened the lives of many people and will kill many millions as soon as those large oil-wells all over the world are all in downturn mode, which could be very soon.
Peak oil, insofar as the concept is a valid one, didn’t have to be a problem. Under liberty-in-economics and clarity-in-property rights, including congestion taxing and continued momentum in privatisation… Under those circumstances we would not notice or care about peak oil.
The trucking business would have trouble. The canals in Europe and North America would revive with tall buildings being built either side of the places where the highways canals and trainlines meet. More towns on the coast would develop good port facilities. In Australia we would by now have most of our power generated from nuclear energy and coal-liquification plants would be springing up everywhere.
But thanks to us not trying hard enough to make the free enterprise changes more comprehensive, and thanks even more to the watermelon communists, millions of people will die earlier then they have to.
And even after they die we won’t know who died from the energy-deprivation crusade. It might be you and me. Since our reduced circumstances might (for example) prevent us from investing in new preventative medical technology.
But it will be in poor countries that millions will die. And it will show up whenever there is some sort of crisis for other reasons.
“Would you really feel any pity if one of those dots stopped moving forever? If I said you could have twenty thousand pounds for every dot that stops, would you really, old man, tell me to keep my money without hesitation? Or would you calculate how many dots you could afford to spare?”
So says Harry Lime in “The Third Man” And after talking with leftists I have to conclude that they really don’t care how many millions of people their idiocy murders. The left already has killed 50 million people minimum with their anti-chemical-crusade. And who knows how many with their anti-nuclear-power obsession. But now they are going after fossil fuels. So this time they are serious. And they really want a lot of people dead.
WOULD THEY MURDER THEM IF THEY COULD SEE THEIR FACES?
I got the following response to something I was saying on Catallaxy:
“I still can’t see the link between 50 buck cups of coffee and malaria.
The people who banned DDT didn’t want to harm Africans, they wanted to save birds and other animals. The fact that they removed one of the many weapons against the spread of malaria was an unintended consequence.
Accusing people of being responsible for malarial deaths is no worse than greenies blaming 4WD owners of causing greenhouse warming. Not only that, but it is counteractive in trying to convince them that more moderate use of DDT in people’s homes is an excellent tool to keep mosquito numbers down without having adverse environmental impacts.
You are never going to convince true believers, for them even if you could convince them that DDT could be used safely, they’ll believe humans couldn’t be trusted to use it safely. But for people who haven’t really thought about it, a reasoned argument in favour of renewed use of DDT may have sway.”
Here is my response to this post…. reworked a little from Catallaxy:
“The people who banned DDT didn’t want to harm Africans, they wanted to save birds and other animals.”
Up until 3 months ago and for the last 11 years I’ve been going out to Auburn, once a week, to see this Witch-Doctor whose got an office out there.
He’s a dignified old fella but he dresses kinda strange. He wears expensive black suits, sometimes with pin-stripes, yet this contrasts with his full African head-dress- Colourful feathers and all.
For 11 years and until quite recently he’s always looked at me through the slits of his eyes.
When he would sit in his great leather chair (that still smelt of the animal he had killed for its manufacture)….he would mostly have his chin lifted as another man might when looking directly at the ceiling but he would roll his eyeballs (though you could not SEE those eyeballs) down as if inspecting me through a microscope… a microscope custom fitted for the using with both eyes at the one time.
He gesticulated some. But mostly in slow-motion and with the smallest range of movement imagineable for the conveyance of an immense amount of non-verbal information.
It was as though he were some sort of long-retired minimalist-method-actor…having formed the habit of small mannerisms with a now long forgotten self-conciousness of the way the camera can exaggerate an actors expressions.
Whether sitting or standing his posture was always erect in an exaggerated way, as if to ensure that the perfect pressing of his fine suits could never ever be compromised.
Yet paradoxically he conveyed the sense of being totally relaxed. Total African-Zen.
I’d see the Witch-Doctor once a week and he’d give me this strange sweet-and-sour juice that would cure all my various aches and pains. The juice (who knows what it was?) would make me lose the sadness of the male conservative of the type who is totally non-tribal and therefore always alone.
But the strange juice gave me a case of local-time-period-amnesia so that I wound up never remembering how I got home.
Sometimes there were these red stains on my shirt, but I put it down to Lambrusco and when I’d notice the stains I was always in a state of such well-being I never let it bug me.
Still I wondered about these issues from time to time as the time of the week where Auburn beckoned would grow more near at hand.
So three months ago, I asked the witch-doctor if he had any spells or potions that would bring all those lost hours back into my reckoning.
He took no notice of what I said, and it was as if I hadn’t spoken at all. It was as though he was just fine with letting the time pass, comfortable in my company.
So I restated what I was after and I asked him if he had a little-something or a little-other that would jog my memory.
“BABYSIMBA-ABASI!!!!!!!” he yelled from out of a thunderous clear blue sky. An animation took hold of the old man such that I’d never seen him this way in 11 years.
Suddenly he half-rose and his entire spine was moving with great variety and it never did stop its various workings and permutations.
The Witch-Doctor turned his head and with a bulging eye looked at me as he worked his way around the great desk switching his head side-to-side like a giant black parrot.
For the first time I saw that his eyeballs were bright yellow and they bulged and they seemed to bulge again and again with a rythm of a resting great-marathan-mans’ heart.
His mouth was half-open and there was this exaggerated KNOWING aspect coming off him. Like we both shared the knowledge that some sort of ghastly queer-sex-abomination was just seconds away.
Now it was at that point that I lost my mind entirely because my eyes closed, in the course of a perfectly standard blink…… and then his clothes, except for his headress……..well they were all long gone..when my eyes.. when they opened again.
With one deft move up-and-behind (and his side-looking eye never did leave me) the witch-doctor snatched a flask clean out of dead-air.
It was a clay flask shaped like a magnified test-tube and there was a cork in it.
And the corked popped without him doing a damn thing and he laughed and tossed the contents in my eyes.
My eyes screamed with burning white-hot-pain as if the contents were pure acid and I thought that it WAS acid and I fell to the floor. And I screamed as well. But the medicine-mans weird African cackling overmatched my screams by a long shot.
But then the faders went down on all that din and so did the light and it was dark.
Then the pain-level turned downward in sympathy with the light-and-sound also……. and I was alone.
I was alone and not sitting or standing, or yet even lying-down. Not anything at all. And no body. Only dark.
And thats when it happened.
Every lost memory… flooding back real like I was right there again. But It WASN’T like watching a movie. It was like DOING-IT all over, with the memory of what came before intact. But these actions of mine… real as they were (or as they seemed) were yet flashing by in jump-cuts.
After eleven years of going out to Auburn every week like an ardent man of the congregation, it was only AT THAT MOMENT that I realised I had murdered exactly twenty (20!!!!) black people every week for 11 long years.
I had murdered twenty black people every single time after my consultations with that dignified man-of-learning.
And there I was doing it over. Strangling and pummelling scores of innocent black women and children to death.
I WAS!!! doing it over.
And I saw their faces AGAIN (since NOW the memory of these actions were, for the first time intact)…………………………
…………… and I saw every last one of their faces again.
I saw the faces of every last black woman and child that I murdered. I saw the faces each and every one of them. I saw their faces again.
I saw the faces of every last individual all over again. And those were not happy faces. Those were not women smiling. Those were not the faces where the light is rising in the childrens eyes.
So yes Brendan Halfweeg. You are right and I am wrong.
You see I killed nearly 600 black people over a period of 11 years before I realised what I was doing.
And I can scarcely blame myself for this carnage. I was under the influence and did not comprehend the nature of the influence that I was under.
Nor can I blame the Doctor.
You see it was just an unfortunate side effect of the Good Doctors attemps to relieve pain and bring more relaxation and happiness into this world.
The fact that he knew these deaths were happening all the time and used all his powers to cover my tracks does not compromise the gentleman ethically at all.
These deaths were just an unintended consequence of the overiding imperatives that he was trying to acheive.
And they were socially-responsible!!!! goals after all. The Doctor was a man of expertise. Unequalled in his field. It is not for us to question him. For it can be said without hesitation that he meant only good things for the community.
No thats right. There is no blaming me and no blaming the medicine man. No-one is to blame.
Brendan Halfweeg sez:
“The people who banned DDT didn’t want to harm Africans, they wanted to save birds and other animals. The fact that they removed one of the many weapons against the spread of malaria was an unintended consequence.”
I have a PROBLEM with the above statement Mr Brendan Halfweeg.
And the problem is WE ARE TALKING ABOUT THE FUCKING REAL WORLD………(you jerk!!!)
Little Hamisi. Little Chausiku… They’re all DEAD.
They are DEAD.
And the worms have done their work and they died painfully, in the middle of the night and their mothers wailed the rest of that night and in the morning quietly wept.
And their fathers felt the shame and impotence of not being able to protect them for the sake of their wailing mother.
50 million little boys and girls who could have built that continent up because getting rid of one of the four horsemen can sometimes enable you to get rid of the other three.
AND IT WAS RICH, WHITE, LEFTIST, TAXEATERS THAT MURDERED THEM!!!!
You cannot TELL me that these people can deal with Africa and murder 50 million people MINIMUM, over a period of four decades and have no fucking knowledge whatsoever of what they are doing…. Mr Brendan Halfweeg.
In my story thats akin to what happened. BUT THE PROBLEM IS WE ARE TALKING ABOUT THE FUCKING REAL WORLD.
The problem is that we are talking about the real world Brendan.
And the rest of you have to get your mind right on this sort of thing as well.