One Of Our Biggest Problems: The Deflation Of Power

“My services are entirely inconsequential to them.” – Raiders of the Lost Ark

I like my steak rare.  Like panda or bigfoot.

I’m writing this ahead of time, so as I type, I have had little information about what’s going on in the race, other than it tied in Dixville Notch and that Kamala narrowly carried Guam, which is okay, I guess.  Karate Kid XVIII was set in Guam, right?  Or was it on an orbital space platform?  I forget.

There has already been the smell of fraud coming from the 2024 presidential election – we got that in the last few weeks and discussed it on the most recent (pre-election) podcast and on this week’s Civil War 2.0 Weather Report.  The simple answer is that having same-day, in-person paper voting of properly identified voters with public counts is the only way to avoid fraud.  Oh, and a purple finger dye would be a bonus.

Never order hay from Amazon®.  After a couple of days they’ll as for feed back.

The real problem, though isn’t fraud – the real problem is that elections in a free country shouldn’t be this consequential.  But yet, they are.  And I’ve discovered my underline, italics, and bold keys.  I’m dangerous now that I know a bit more about typography – it’s been a character building exercise.

What caused the election to be so consequential?  Deflation, and Inflation.

Let’s start with Deflation.

Back when the United States was just warming up, the powers of the federal government were very limited.  In fact, almost every law that existed was a law that existed at the state (or commonwealth, if you can’t spell ‘state’), county, or city level.  There was no federal law against murder.

In fact, why would there need to be a federal law against murder?  States could take care of that with their existing laws quite nicely, thank you.  And we also had lynching, which saved about three days off of the whole “catch-trial-hang” normal course of justice and the cost of a trial.  Federal government?  Why would they need to get involved at all?  We can find our own trees.

And presidents.  Being president meant that you were elected to administer the (weak) government of only 3.9 million people, which is approximately the number of people who share a single bathroom in Mumbai.  Now there are at least 334 million people living in the United States, increasing the power of the presidency by a factor of 85.

I couldn’t resist.  (LINK to Aesop)

But there’s more!  Back in 1800, the president would likely have been bored a great deal of the time, since there wasn’t so much to do.  There was no real standing army, so there was no military-industrial complex to feed.  There was no federal welfare.  There was no Department of Education.  In fact, there were only three departments:  State, Treasury, and War.  There was also an Attorney General.

And Washington, elected in April, didn’t bother to nominate people for those positions until September.  Summer break, probably.  Or maybe he was still hung over.  Regardless, the position of the president was so unimportant that Washington didn’t do anything for months, and yet the country kept going.

I’d estimate that the power of the president is 10,000 times, minimum, what it was back in 1800 between the number of citizens and the increase in power from the sheer size and complexity of the federal government.  Now, that’s what I call deflation!  Imagine going to sleep and finding your dollar was worth 10,000 times what it was the night before.

This was funny to either fans of 19th Century German opera or fans of 1990s Saturday morning cartoons.  And that’s about it.

And congressmen?  When we started, there was on representative for every 37,000 people.  Now, each congressman represents a staggering 750,000 people.  That’s a power inflation of over 20.  But it’s also a critical distinction.  Here in Modern Mayberry, I can pick up the phone and call the most politically powerful elected official (that represents about 37,000 folks) and expect a personal call back.  To be fair, he doesn’t know everybody, but he knows (generally) quite a few folks and I have sufficient stature to have made it to that “call this guy back” list.  I mean, who doesn’t want to hear from the village idiot?  It’s a very nice village.

Back then, congressmen were at least theoretically accessible.  Now?  The guy who’s gonna win the race probably knows my name, but there’s no way he could put my face together with it.  A congressman is 20 times more powerful (just on numbers) than he was back in 1800.

If that were it, it would be manageable.  But it’s not it.

In 1800, or even 1900, your single point of contact with the federal government would have been getting your mail.

During my last interview, the hiring manager asked me if I could perform under pressure.  I said, “No, but I know Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Now?  The federal government is now the most over-reaching and powerful governmental entity in your life (if you’re American).  From the moment you go to bed to the moment you go to sleep it covers every facet of your life.  You get up, use FDA approved toothpaste to brush.  Get in a shower of a size and volume determined by the EPA, with water quality defined by the EPA, after flushing a toilet whose volume is governed by the EPA.  That’s the first five minutes.  It doesn’t get better, but I’ll leave the exercise of getting into a car and the rest of the day to the reader.

Just on the population, those positions have become more powerful.  But add in the ever-increasing creeping of the federal government into every part of your life?  Every decision?  Every surface?  The power of an individual member of congress has easily increased by a thousand-fold.  This is deflation.

The federal government used to be the tip of the power pyramid, far away and not particularly important.  Now that geometry is upside down, with the tip being the base.  Local decisions are increasingly trivial at the city and county level, more consequential at the state level, but many of these are 100% constrained by federal mandates and power.

The elected official you can most easily reach has the smallest impact on your life.  You can’t hope to get the attention of a federal official or congressman because you’re too small.  You don’t matter.

Your power has inflated away,

  • first based on the increase in population diluting the voice of individuals where the number of elected officials remains the same,
  • then by making the power remote from you housed in unaccountable bureaucracies, and
  • thirdly, the inherent power of your community has been erased through the forced diversity by purposely injecting foreign communities to break up the traditions and community norms so that your power is even more fully fractured. Somalians don’t make Minnesota better in any way.  They are culturally alien and belong in (bear with me) Somalia.

Why?

I went to the Air and Space Museum.  Disappointed, since it was just an empty building.

A pyramid that stands on its point is inherently unstable.  They know that.  It’s also inherently unfree.  You know that.  The solution is simple, but will take time and effort:

Devolve power away from Washington.  Move power to the states.  This is inevitable, and will happen because of that instability, because the undeniable weakness of the federal government is showing.  A single man like Donald Trump was able to thwart the lawfare, the biased media, the entire Deep State, and even his own party’s hierarchy.

All it takes is one man, and where one will stand up, others will follow.

Make America Great Again?

Yes.

The first step is, though, is to Make the Presidential Election Inconsequential Again.

And, maybe, ship Kamala to Guam if they like her that much.

2022 In Review. When Is The Next Asteroid?

”I could end this review here, but I’m really just getting started. I do have to go to traffic court soon though, I accidentally ran over a Korean family with my car.” – The Phantom Menace Review

The Romans were really good at killing people.  They really nailed the execution.

It’s not the exact end of the year yet, but it’s close enough to look at 2022 in the rearview mirror.  Me?  I say good riddance.  It also marks the sixth year I can’t jog because of my knees.  In 2017, no jogging. In 2018, no jogging.  In 2019, no jogging.  In 2020, no jogging.  In 2021, no jogging.  In 2022?  Again, no jogging.

I guess that’s a running joke.

So let’s run down the events of 2022:

January

January 10 – the first transplant of a heart from a pig to a human was accomplished.  I’m not sure what you call a person who has a heart from a pig.  But they did also breed a pig with four eyes.  I guess you call that a piiiig.

January 28 – the vaxx dose was injected for the 10 billionth time.  Kamala Harris declared it an “amateur”.   There are several jokes about what will happen to people who took an essentially untested mRNA gene therapy.  They never get old.

Looks like lead pipes are back on the menu, boys!

February

February 4 – the Winter Olympics® start in China.  The country that brought the most athletes to the games was Brazil.  I hear they brought eight Brazilian athletes.

February 26 – Russia commences its Special Military Operation in the Ukraine.  It’s scheduled to be concluded in two weeks.

March

March, date unknown – The Democratic Republic of Congo gets its first phone, and prank calls Angola.

March, date unknown – Joe Biden starts wandering around the White House claiming that water is now only legal in three states – liquid, solid, and gas.

April

April 6 – The first fossil that could be tied explicitly to a dinosaur that died because of the impact of the asteroid at the Yucatan Peninsula 66 million years ago was found.  He was named “Lucky Larry”.

What do you get if you cross a T-Rex with a human?  A T-Rex.

April 24 – The Large Hadron Collider was turned back on and changed its power level from Incredibly Large to Mindbending.  Of course, history has been changed, again, and now it turns out I’ve been wearing my underwear backward.

The one on the left?  Never existed as a logo according to the world.  Not according to me.  I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that it was on my tighty -whities.

May

May 6 – Monkey Pox discovered in the wild!  Panic!!!!!

May 7 – People don’t panic.

June

June 14 – Canada and Denmark end the Whiskey War.  This 50-year-old conflict was a dispute over a barren wasteland (see “Hillary Clinton”) that started in 1978.  It was called the Whiskey War because the Canadians left a bottle of booze and put up a Canadian flag in 1984.  The Danes took it down, put up the Danish flag, (while politely folding the Canuck flag and putting it up) and left the Canucks a bottle of schnapps.  On June 14 the island was split between the two countries.  Previously, Denmark had one border (Germany – never a good choice) and Canada had one border (guess).

This really happened.

June 21 – I think I had a burger at lunch that day.  Tasty.

July

July 11 – the James Webb Space Telescope returned its first picture (see below).

How does Bigfoot tell time?  He has a sasq-watch.

July 23 – Monkey Pox still not a thing, since it was discovered mainly to transmit through non-heterosexual relations.  Everyone ignore!

August

August 4 – the Chinese military drill Taiwan, and then don’t call.

August 15 – Disney® finds way 7,328 to ruin a movie.

September

September 6 – Liz Truss is now Prime Minister of Great Britain, making the first time two people named Liz are in charge of Great Britain.

September 8 – Oops!  Lost one Liz.  Spoiler?  Pretty soon it’s zero people named Liz.

October

October 8 – Russia celebrates the several hundred-day anniversary of two weeks.

October 28 – Elon Musk buys Twitter® for reasons that no one can really figure out, and seems to have a lot of fun with it.

Oops, he doesn’t have a wife.

November

November 8 – there are 8 billion people now in the world.  Kamala Harris is quoted as “Well, that’s somewhat of a challenge, I’ve got some catching up to do.”

November 16 – Several days months years behind schedule, NASA launches Artemis 1.  The idea is to launch several dummies around the Moon.  Sadly no Antifa® members are in the capsule.

December

Thankfully, no Leftists read here, so I don’t need to remind you what happened in the last 9 days.

We’ll look at the future in my Amazingly Accurate Predictions for 2023 post that’s coming up.  I would take some time off and go running, but my knees are worse than Kamala’s.

Unplug Yourself From Things That Drain You. And Kardashians.

Then you’ll see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself. – The Matrix

Okay, it’s not great.  The other one was, “What do you get when Keanu Reeves does ‘shrooms?  Neo-sporin.”  See, I saved you from that.

Unplug yourself.

I mean, don’t stop coming here.  That would be silly, because you definitely want to associate yourself with someone who has the amazingly good hygiene and stellar good looks that I do.  I mean, unplug yourself from places that make you mad.

Consciously, most of my posts, while letting you know the unvarnished Truth with a capital T* (*really, as best as I know it), are meant to poke fun at it.  It might make you think about things that you really don’t want to think about.  I understand.  I’m still sorry about that Kardashian meme.

Honestly, dating a Kardashian would be like dating a wookie®.

Well, obviously not that sorry.

Back to the Truth.

Most people that I talk to have an Agent Smith (from The Matrix, not that pesky ATF guy who keeps asking if the stuffed dog I have is filled with Tannerite, because, let’s face it, the only thing that ATF agents love shooting more than kids is dogs) moment.

No, the Agent Smith moment I have with friends goes like this:  I talk about facts.  They nod.  I talk about actual events.  They nod.  Then I bring up a premise that is inescapable:  “So, we agree gravity exists.”  Nod.  “And I’m holding a coffee mug over a 1,000 foot (4.3 Celsius) cliff.”  Nod.  “And if I drop it, it will fall down, and shatter into a million pieces, and it will never be able to be put together again.”

Then Agent Smith takes over the conversation.  “Well, I don’t want to think about that.”  The conversation is over.  There is a step that they cannot take.  It’s like me trying to convince them that a constant diet of candy corn, Twinkies®, fried Snickers® bars, and drinking the fluid from a chocolate fountain that 359 kindergarteners have been putting their booger-soaked fingers into isn’t a good diet.

This is what happens when you follow the USDA food pyramid.

I recall having a conversation several years ago with a guy on the Left.  “Yes, John Wilder, I agree.  Massive immigration is destroying every one of the values in our country.  But strawberries might be more expensive if we didn’t allow them in.”

My response was rather simple, “So, you, a guy on the Left, wants to pay people less so you can have cheaper strawberries?  Wouldn’t it be simpler to pay people more, pay less than 1% of what you make in a month to pay Americans enough to give you strawberries?”

Agent Smith took over his mind.  “Umm, well, I don’t understand those things very well.”

I took him to the ledge, but he refused to look over.

But, hey, he saved $0.35 this week.

That’s the Truth.  And, I assure you, the Truth is your friend.

What is Truth?  Step on a scale.  Look down.  The number is the Truth.  Try to pick up a weight.  If you can, you can.  That is Truth.  The Iron never lies.  The scale never lies.

I was working with a person who noted I had lost some weight.  He asked me, “How can I lose weight?”

My response was simple:  “Weigh yourself.  Every day.  The scale doesn’t lie.”

The look on his face was amazing.  I think he wanted me to tell him, “Believe in aliens, bigfoot (bigfeet?) and the Loch Ness Monster, drink seven shots of Hershey’s® chocolate syrup ever night, and you’ll lose 27 pounds a week.”  When I told him to weigh himself, his face fell.

He didn’t want the Truth.  And I didn’t follow up with, “By the way, I also rarely eat between Saturday night and Friday,” because that would bake the gourd of most people.  They don’t want to know that losing weight sucks, that it requires amazing work and walking into the house at night after work and telling The Mrs., “No dinner for me, I’m fasting.”

I’ve been doing this whole Intermittent Fasting thing.  Bums me out.  I did it at least nine times today.

People want pretty lies.  Yet, the healthiest thing for them is the Truth.  Just before I started writing this, Frequent Commenter Ricky emailed me a story that said that, per FDA guidelines, water could not be labeled as, “healthy”.  So, enjoy all the Gatorade®, Pepsi™, and Coca-Slop© that you want.  It doesn’t have fat in it, so, according to bad science dating back to before I was born, it’s better for you than water.

Nope, the Truth sucks.  People are awful.  Bad guys win – a lot.  People get old.  And then they die.  All of us die.  And, the FDA lies.  But, most of you come here regularly.  Can you handle the Truth?  Yup, you can.  And you seek it.  I think most of you understand that.

But there is a group of people who are trying to demoralize you.  The easiest way to win a battle, per George S. Patton, Jr., is to make the enemy afraid of you.  Yet, they wouldn’t have to do any of this if they had won.

They haven’t won.  They are desperate to win, yet you and I remain, stubborn, like islands in the middle of a hurricane.  We live.  We persist.  And we will win.  That’s what scares them the most.

Why am I so stubborn?  I’m not telling you.

So, when you see something that makes you feel like all is lost, remember, that’s them whispering in your ear.  The want you to think that you can’t win, even though everything that is right, beautiful, and True is on your side.  When you see this sort of demoralization?

Turn it off.

Don’t go back.  Not because you’re afraid of opposing viewpoints, but because you refuse to have your emotions manipulated.  Never, ever, let Agent Smith inside.  Seek the Truth.  It’s there.  Unless it’s a Kardashian that isn’t hairy.

That’s a lie.

The Amazing Bigfoot UFO Diet

“Boys, I slipped in poop!  Bigfoot poop!” – Trailer Park Boys

Bigfoot saw me today.  I bet nobody believes him.

Last week I was about 75% done with the writing of a new post.  It was about 1am, which was a bit late, but not horribly so.  From where I was, I was an hour of edits, an hour of memes, and then a final hour of edits from being done.  4am?  Not so bad.  Sleep is for the weak, and it’s no substitute for caffeine.  I even made a really funny meme that fit with the post complete for the main meme:

See, genius at work!  Not pictured:  anything to do with this post.

When I type (I’m not going to be so bold as to call myself a writer), I can generally tell when and where a post is going to close when I start writing.  And this was going there, but it was . . . bleak.  And one thing I like to do on a Friday post is to end on an “up” beat.

I try to make the Monday post the heaviest in thought, the Wednesday post the heaviest in economic conditions, and however those posts end, they end.  They represent the best I can find with reality.  Am I always right?  No.  But I’m not going to look at the Senile Senator from Scranton and pretend he’s a leader or even anything more than a drooling moron with only the slightest bit of consciousness rattling around in the dim memories that he has left between pudding pops and wondering why Bob Barker isn’t on The Price is Right®.

Joe Biden:  “The doctor told me I have dementia and the economy sucks.  But at least I don’t have dementia.”

But Fridays are different.  I like ending the week on high note.  That wasn’t the post.  I might rework it, or not.  I have plenty of stuff to write about as the universe keeps following the modestly-named Wilder’s Principle Of Greatest Amusement (short explanation:  if there are two possibilities of an event happening, the most silly one will occur, which explains Trump, Biden, and Elvis dying on a toilet).

Because of all that, I’m switching gears wildly this Friday.  My story starts when I was but a wee Wilder living on Wilder Mountain in the deep woods, 45 miles from the nearest movie theater, a place so remote that we would beg strangers for news of the outside, and we would woo our women with chocolates and nylons from the Red Cross packages that were airdropped occasionally.

One thing Ma Wilder always indulged me on was books.  I had to use my allowance on the models.  Since there were no other kids around, I surrounded myself with things I made.  I slept under them:  a fleet of two Constitution Class Heavy Cruisers (NCC 1701 was one) facing down the improbable alliance of a Romulan™ Bird of Prey and a Klingon D-7, both flanked by Phantom F-4s (for whatever reason painted glossy silver – seemed like a good idea at the time) along with the Battlestar Galactica™ headed straight for a Cylon Basestar© which was improbably flanked by both a Sopwith Camel and a red Fokker triplane.  I was especially proud of the Galactica®, since I had (by that time) figured out how to put realistic charred areas for battle damage along with about 100 pieces of glow-in-the-dark tape, so when I turned out the lights it looked like all those windows were shining light into the dark, asbestos-laden ceiling of my bedroom.

I confused model glue with a tube of Preparation H®.  At least my model never itched.

Those I had to pay for.  But he books?

Nope.  Ma Wilder indulged me on those, and never questioned a single one, as long as I read them.

I have no idea if I had to choose to spend my hard-earned allowance on magazines – I simply can’t remember.  But I do know that they didn’t blink at those, either.  So, I had in my possession a copy of UFO Magazine™.  I have no idea of that was the exact title, but it was close enough.

In this particular magazine, there was the scariest story I had ever read.  The idea of the story was that bigfoot wasn’t a creature that was normal, like a bear or a coyote.  We had bear and coyote and mountain cats on Wilder Mountain.  Those weren’t horribly scary.

According to this magazine, bigfoot was, instead, a phenomenon that was entirely alien in nature.  It was controlled by either the critters that ran the UFOs, or it was a trans-dimensional being that exhibited supernatural powers.  It didn’t matter which, since both of those types were dangerous and psychic.  What would it do to me?  Hell, I had no idea.  But it was an evil alien psychic bigfoot.  Isn’t that enough???

I went to a psychic’s house and knocked on the door.  She asked, “Who’s there?” so I left.

I had a view of the edge of the forest, as it the ridge due north of my bedroom reached for the peak of the mesa to the back of my house.  Of course, as a third grader, I’m certain that I saw a pair of glowing red eyes from ridge a quarter mile away.  Now, of course, I’d have to put on my glasses to even see the ridge, but back then I was sure I saw them.  I’m not sure how one can fall asleep while every muscle in the body is tense with fear and sweat was trickling everywhere, but I’m sure the covers over my head helped.

Thankfully, as I grew up, I came to the realization that UFOs were certainly not real.  The UFO phenomenon (and bigfoot!) gradually came to take the same place in my mind as pro wrestling.  They weren’t real, but they were certainly entertaining.

But I kept an eye to the sky.  Just in case.

I’ve been watching the news stories, and seen the videos leaked from the Navy.  Strange.  But I really didn’t think too much more about it.  The idea that UFOs were something more than sensor glitches or advanced US tech seemed unlikely.

Weirdly, I was listening to Dr. Michio Kaku’s radio show the other day.  Sometimes (especially in the hottest weather) The Mrs. likes to listen to Fairbanks, Alaska radio, and Michio’s radio show is on Sunday afternoon.

Michio Kaku named his son “Physics” so he could be called the Father of Physics.

Michio Kaku is a theoretical physicist that has a few bestsellers, but what’s most amusing is his radio show.  The Mrs. and I pronounce his name Meee-chio, since he regularly talks about himself in the third person.  I think he should be next in line to be King of England, since he’s so good at using the Royal We already.  Regardless, Michio is amusing.

One thing he said in his radio show two weeks ago, though, got to me.  I’ll paraphrase, but I think I’ve got most of the intent, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, but I think that in the case of UFOs this has shifted.  The evidence is so overwhelming that the phenomenon exists, and the burden now belongs to those who claim the phenomenon is normal to prove that.”

I was shocked.  I’d listened to him off and on for years.  Every other time, he’s mentioned aliens, the opposite has come out of his mouth.  His case now?

It’s real until someone proves it isn’t.

How do we know aliens aren’t vegan?  They haven’t contacted us to tell us.

I don’t know what’s going on.  There are multiple explanations.  Some of them are amazingly dark – several researchers into UFO phenomena have come to the conclusion that what’s going on is sinister, as in worse than psychic bigfeet.  Far worse.

But if it’s something as boring as psychic bigfeet, hidden German technology from under Antarctica, oddly humanoid aliens, or even run-of-the-mill travelers from another dimension, this will still be remembered far into the future, much farther than anything that will come out of AOC’s silly mind or Chucky Schumer’s bloated ego.

So, which would be most compatible with Wilder’s Principle of Greatest Amusement?  My money is on psychic bigfeet.  Sometimes the psychic bigfoot is confused with a sasquatch.

Yeti never complains.