That’s in less than 10 minutes!
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“Welcome to my world crisis, Mr. Bond!” – Tomorrow Never Dies

That door handle looks like it’s from an 80’s Fiat©, which means it isn’t driving anywhere until it’s dropped all its oil on the garage floor.
This post is originally from April, 2021. I would normally be having a new post, but I feel just awful tonight. Tired. The Mrs. had Influenza A, and now I have it, I think. Or something. Unlike when AIDS, the flu, and COVID walked into a bar, this isn’t some sort of sick joke. See? I’ve still got it.
I anticipate new content on Friday, and no matter how I feel I should be ready to go for tomorrow’s podcast at 9pm Eastern. I’m skipping my normal run ’round the ‘net tonight, so I can get some sleep. I would make another sleep joke, but those are so tiring. Take care, all!
-JW
The last year has seen more change than the last twenty years, combined. This is to be expected, especially if you give Strauss and Howe’s The Fourth Turning idea any credence. A short version of The Fourth Turning (also known as Kondratieff Wave Theory) is that there is a roughly 80-year cycle of human affairs. Let me use the life of my Dad, Pa Wilder, to describe it:
When Pa Wilder was young he spent most of his childhood in Winter, the first defining experience of his life was the Great Depression. Back then, they had printed versions of the Internet that they would get delivered to their house every day, called newspapers. They also had cell phones that never needed charging, and that you could never lose because they were in the living room and conveniently connected by a cord to the wall.
I’m sure all of the kids on the playground talked with Pa about how obvious it was that the Federal Reserve’s® monetary policy, combined with bankers lending to anyone with a pulse led to near financial collapse. Oh, and how their parents couldn’t afford shoes. Thankfully, Pa lived in a farming community, and every little house in town had a very large garden out back. Food from the grocery store?
Why would you spend money on food when you had to pay for the mortgage?

Al Capone set up this particular location during the Depression. Pa Wilder said I should never go camping with a gangster: he didn’t want me to have a criminal intent.
That’s the sort of lesson that bored itself into Pa Wilder’s mind. As a kid, he saw people lose houses, he saw people lose fortunes. He saw a nation nearing collapse.
Economic collapse led to the second thing that defined Pa Wilder’s youth: World War II. Not long after Japanese planes attacked Pearl Harbor he was in boot camp in Ft. Sill and before long was a 2nd lieutenant in the Army. The next four years he spent on an all-expenses-paid European vacation
The end of the war was the end of Kondratieff Winter. What followed was Spring.
In post-war United States, growth and unrivaled prosperity followed from 1945-1965. Pa Wilder, like the rest of the G.I. generation, came back and built families and factories and farms. They looked out at a world that was shattered, and they made fortunes rebuilding it. They even found Dean Martin’s favorite eel. Don’t remember that? It’s a moray.
Spring was characterized by extreme faith in government institutions – sure the government had fumbled the ball in the Great Depression, but it had unified the country for World War II. It stayed back enough to allow growth, and Eisenhower’s America got out of North Korea and planted the seeds for the Super Science® projects that would provide unmatched weapons systems and the seeds of space exploration.

I wanted to have another space pun, but I didn’t have time to planet.
Spring gives over to Summer. Around 1965, the spiritual awakening was followed in 1975 by the “Me” decade. In Summer, the economy is humming along, the weather is great, and the first questioning of the previous ideas that led to the success of the country begins. It’s probably no coincidence that the disastrous Immigration Act of 1965, the arguably unconstitutional Civil Rights Act of 1964, and Lyndon Johnson’s voter-plantation Great Society acts (1964 and 1965) took place at the start of Summer when Americans were questioning their values, questioning the things that made America great.
Pa Wilder was an established businessman, working as the president of a very conservative farm bank. You could get a loan, but only if you had collateral and a good income stream. Pa Wilder told more people “no” than “yes” for loans. That bothered him, with the exception of the fact that he told me, “I’ve never had to foreclose on a house, son.” To him, it was a moral duty. Thankfully Pa never served in the paratroopers, otherwise, they would have called him “debt from above.”
In society, however, the big splits had started in 1965. The subversion of colleges started and would be nearly complete by the 1980s. Religious decline started, and Nixon got tired of hiding the fiscal shenanigans of the country that gold was exposing. His solution? Get rid of gold.
But Summer was still a good time. Autumn, however, is harvest. Pa Wilder was pretty close to retirement at this point, and the real economic power had moved to the Boomers. Pa’s natural fiscal conservatism led to a strong and stable business. The people that took over from him, however, would “give a loan to anyone with a pickup and a backhoe.” They even loaned out money on haunted houses, places they were sure were going to be repossessed.

An ultra-long radio wave walked into the bar. The bartender said, “Why the long phase?”
Inertia is important in an economic system. But in 1985 the financial systems of the United States began to be harvested. “Greed is good” became the motto, and systems were run entirely for near-term economic benefit. Everyone from Pa Wilder’s generation was dead or retired – the new people in charge had no living memory of the national crisis brought on by The Great Depression.
The end of Autumn is the first chill of Winter, and the end result was the Great Recession (right on time!) in 2007-2008.
In the Winter, things fall apart. I’ve been really quite amazed that things have held together so well since that first cold snap. Obama was, well, a disappointment. Trump seemed (in many ways) overwhelmed by the system and couldn’t figure out how to move the levers of power in any significant and lasting ways – which makes sense on a failing system.
That was the starter’s gun on the crisis, the date Winter began. We should have been a long way through it by now, but this Winter is different:
Sure, sometimes government wants to stop a crisis so that the citizens can have a stable country. Sometimes.
But other times, governments are waiting for the crisis, looking forward to it. Planning on it. In one article titled Sometimes the world needs a crisis: Turning challenges into opportunities(LINK), the Brookings Institute lists the things they love about crises. I admit that some of them are positive, but here are a few that I think are a bit more ominous – these descriptions are directly from Brookings:
COVID-19 was the big crisis they were waiting for this Winter. As the economic systems unwind under the unsustainable debt the ‘Rona is the perfect opportunity. Imagine the tapestry of that you see was planned. What end is being sought?

What The Mrs. would have said in the same situation: “It’s over, John, I have the high ground.”
Well, they told us already. Systemic Change. Changes to virtually every system in the United States. Want to have a nice, neat, prosperous, and orderly community? Too bad. That’s not a thing that’s going to happen. The police will be neutered. How badly will communities suffer? Here’s how bad it is now:
When there is murder and mayhem there is control. This is their plan. This is the crisis. Remove police – replace with ideological commissars that aren’t bound by law. Now, if they see a “crime” that they feel is wrong, they can punish it however they see fit. Most commonly, this will just be by removing the protection of the law and letting the mob do the rest.
The biggest crimes? The crimes against the Left.
That’s just the first of the planned Systemic Changes. There are more planned.

Why do organizations hire female Chief Equity Officers? Because they’re cheaper.
To be clear: Winter is here. The Left has an endless list of Leftist goals to accomplish during the crisis to come. The Winter will be dark.
Where are our goals? The Right cannot just have the goals of “what the Left wants, but less,” or, “the opposite of what those guys want.”
After that? Organization. And leadership.
And longjohns. Winter is here.
That’s in less than 30 minutes!
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCUskuritR5P3BBJpOr5gzhg/videos
That’s in less than 15 minutes!
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCUskuritR5P3BBJpOr5gzhg/videos
“Kent Brockman here reporting on a crisis so serious it has its own name and theme music.” – The Simpsons Movie

If a Higgs boson kills someone, does that make it a mass murderer?
Problem-Reaction-Solution has been the playbook of the Left for a long time. What’s that? First, there’s a problem. It may be a real problem, or it may be entirely invented, like my résumé.
Obama’s chief of staff, Rahm Israel Emanuel, was famous for saying “You never want a serious crisis to go to waste.” In his own words, Rahm explained, “ . . . what I said was, never allow a good crisis to go to waste when it’s an opportunity to do things that you had never considered, or that you didn’t think were possible.”
Yes. He said that. It is probably not true that he stood next to a South American quadruped and a doorbell for his senior picture, because that would leave us with Rahm, a llama, ding-dong.
Rahm’s crisis is really just a way to restate the Problem-Reaction-Solution paradigm. It’s a way to make people do things that were otherwise unthinkable. Why?
Because some leaders want their people to accept what would otherwise be unthinkable. This has long been the playbook of the Left.
It has been used by the Left since, well, forever. The problem-reaction-solution is often called a Hegelian Dialectic, but that has too many syllables for 1:43AM. And Hegel died in 1831, so I’ll just leave it that this sort of crisis-seeking isn’t a new thing.

Apparently, Hegel didn’t have a side that flattered him.
The Left turns out to be pretty good at this stuff. Examples? Well, in Australia, all it took was one mass shooting and the politicians convinced the Aussies to turn in their guns. The problem was that single shooting. The reaction? A well-formed media manufactured panic. The solution was to turn in all the guns. The Australian Leftists certainly didn’t let that problem go to waste.
The end result? Australia had some of the most oppressive COVID-19 restrictions on the planet including concentration camps. Which is just what government wanted – to turn citizens into subjects. Taking guns away is a good way to do just that. The joke is that everything in Australia can kill you easily. Now that includes the police.
The same attempts were made in the 1990s with the assault weapons ban in the United States. It went into effect. Without the Internet, I imagine it would still be in place. But, luckily, there was a way to bypass the media, and people got together to push back. I’m not sure that George W. Bush was in favor of rolling it back, but every Republican that had a job and wanted to keep it knew that making it go away in the next election was in their best interest.

People say that Democrats and Republicans can’t work together to accomplish anything, but I’ll remind you, Jeffrey Epstein is dead.
So the problem wasn’t big enough, and (at least so far) hasn’t been big enough because events like Uvalde proved one thing: waiting for the police to come and save you isn’t a good strategy. In a way, using the Australia example just isn’t going to work in America.
But what about other things, like money?
It has worked before. One of the first things that Franklin Roosevelt did after becoming president was to confiscate almost all the gold of American citizens and then make the dollar worth less. It was the same formula. The problem was the economy had cratered. The reaction was that people were panicking. The solution? Almost anything Roosevelt wanted to try, he could try, up to and including taking the country (eventually) into a World War.
Whereas Americans seem to have a strong distrust of government taking their guns, the distrust with politicians destroying our money doesn’t seem nearly so strong. Which brings us right back to today.
The economy has been a mess, for quite a long time. I could delve back into history even more than I’ve done so far, but I don’t want to write a 20,000 word post.

Moses went to Mount Olive. Popeye was furious.
But where we are today is precarious. It is certainly the problem unfolding. In 2008, when inflation was “tolerably” low, the Federal Reserve® could print money at will. This allowed bankers to keep the profits that they had made, while the financial system used the Bounty™ Currency Quicker Printer Upper® to socialize the losses.
This wasn’t without creating ripple issues, but it kicked the can down the road for more than a decade. Then, COVID. Same playbook: print all the cash!!!
This time, however, the cash didn’t just go to cover paper losses at banks. People got the cash, and did what people do: they spent it. Another part of the idea was to inject as much money as is possible into infrastructure projects.
Now, I like roads and bridges as much as the next guy, but when all that money chases concrete, it pushes the price of concrete up – that’s supply and demand. And whatever the government was buying went up in price. Now, decent cigars haven’t gone up much in price, but eggs, bacon, and gasoline certainly have.

If I want to light a cigar but don’t have matches, I just cut the end off. Then it’s a little lighter.
So the Fed© can’t print itself out of this one. Heck, every time the Fed® tries to stop, the economy lurches like a Pelosi getting out of a Porsche™.
So, the problem is here. The reaction is going to be significant as the economy continues to wobble and waver, and I believe is headed for even darker days. Forget Netflix™ and avocado toast: people get grumpy when they can’t afford to eat or buy gas. The normal solution (printing cash and making it rain) can’t be used.
That leaves us with a crisis that would make Rahm Emanuel drool. The idea from the government will be to create a solution that, right now, we’d consider unthinkable.

I hear that atheists own more cats than Christians. Apparently, owning Christians is illegal.
Just like our pushback on the unthinkable banning of guns, it’s our job to push back on whatever nonsense is coming, because I can assure you that it will leave most of us poorer and with less freedom.
Why most of us? Remember, there’s a reason why people like Rahm Emanuel look forward to things like this. And it’s not because they lose power or money.
“Remember that time you tried to drill a hole in your head?” – Ghostbusters

Someone called me lazy today. I almost replied.
A quick peak behind the curtain – I normally try to get some rest, since I’m only mostly superhuman. I’m trying to evolve to the point where I don’t need sleep, and can subsist on a diet of nothing but memes, PEZ®, coffee, and fahrvergnügen, but tonight things went a little sideways.
First, I’ve been trying to salvage an hour or two a week by doing blog-related correspondence and making my rounds on the ‘net at lunch. I normally only get on for blogging-related three times a week, and if I can do it during a time I’m normally goofing off, so much the better. It’s still goofing off, but it’s blog-related. Result: two hours of extra weeknight sleep each week. I call that a win. Or, I would if I were conscious.
Whelp. Today I got sucked into listening to the vortex of oddity and Clown World™ that is the Darrell Brooks trial (Waukesha “alleged” murderer) with The Mrs. at lunch. The trial is so absurd that we couldn’t look away. Well, I thought, that’s fine. I’ll skip an hour’s worth of sleep tonight and do correspondence and blogging rounds then.
I got home about usual, but The Mrs. had some ideas on dinner that pushed it starting a bit late. That’s no biggie, either, and it was some extra fun with the family. Another hour? What’s living without two hours of sleep, anyway? I’ve done it before.
So, now it’s after dinner, and I discover a problem outside. It’s an utterly first-world problem (I’ll spare you the details) but working it out took about four hours to make sure everything was fine because it was gonna freeze tonight, and I wanted to make sure that I didn’t end up doing a few thousand bucks worth of damage. I couldn’t really blog at that time, but I did have a nice cigar.
Crisis averted – everything is (fingers crossed) functional. Mainly, the fixing didn’t take too long, the rest was testing, making sure electric doo-dads were all working, and waiting to make sure that it was reliably working under all circumstances for a few hours. I was satisfied.
So, I sat down at my keyboard, and, lo and behold, it was midnight.
Ugh. I suppose that I could have done another Lame Repost from the past, but decided not to – I try to limit those to once a month or less. I had notes on several posts that would fit the bill tonight, but writing them and editing them takes time. So, I decided to clean out some proverbial closets and share some as-found memes. I make most (not all, but most) of my own memes from scratch using only the finest quality keks and chortles, but I also collect memes that others baked.
Why? They make me laugh, think, or, best of all, both. So, here’s a collection of more-or-less random memetic soup that I saved and probably won’t use in any future posts. I’ll be back on correspondence and web-rounds no later than Thursday/Friday.
I hope you enjoy!
Hint: it’s all better with a hot cup of fahrvergnügen.


























Mainly just tired.
More nonsense on Wednesday morning.
“We have just lost cabin pressure.” – Fight Club

The second rule of Wilder Club is if this is your first visit, you have to comment. Oh, and this is a repost since I have to get up pretty early tomorrow.
I had a conversation with a friend today. Oh, sure, I hear you say, what would an iconoclastic iron-jawed individualist with a body odor redolent of medium rare ribeye (with just a hint of pepper) like John Wilder need with a friend? I guess we all have our little weaknesses. And dogs follow me. Because I smell like steak.
In this particular case as with most of my friends, I’ve known this friend for years. I’ve known most of my close friends longer than The Boy has been alive, and he’s in college now. It’s nice. If a day, a week, a month or a year goes by, so what? We can still restart the conversation where we left off. It’s as comfortable as watching a movie you’ve seen a dozen times.
I’ll make the observation that the only place where the character of people change is in a movie – almost all of my close friends have the same sense of humor and the same sense of values that they had when our friendships were forming. Absent a significant emotional event, people are a constant.
And I like that.
There is a corresponding trust that comes with being a close friend – honesty. That’s why when talking with my friend, I really enjoyed the chance to be honest. Honesty is difficult because it requires that trust, because really honest criticism is hard to take, even when it comes from a friend. Or a co-worker. Or a relative. Or someone you just met. Or your UPS® delivery guy. Oh, wait. Most people don’t like honest. But my friends do.
This particular friend is really in a good position in life, which seems to be a common pattern with my friends. He has a spouse that makes more money than he does, and, in general, the household probably brings in enough cash each month so that Nigerian princes send emails to them asking for money. They’re wealthy enough that they donate to the homeless. This appears to be a more socially acceptable donation strategy than my “donation to the topless,” scheme.

Yes, this is the only joke that I’ve ever seen that involves both the Greco-Roman philosophy of stoicism and stripping. I’m sure that Seneca would be proud.
But lest ye want to class my friend as the evil, selfish, wealthy type, he’s not. The family has a huge number of kids, and it’s a close family. My friend is constantly taking time off to go to athletic events, and when we catch up, I can sense that the relationship he has with his kids isn’t a surface relationship – it’s genuine and deep. I can tell, because I know people who understand genuine relationships, who listen to both sides of a family argument – my neighbors.
And yet . . . despite the wealth, despite the great family, my friend feels that there’s something missing. He is as high as he wants to go in the company he works at – any higher and the travel demands would pull him away from family. He’s long since mastered his job – there is little that can be thrown at him that he hasn’t seen in the last fifteen or so years. So, his condition is one of high pay, mastery of work, and, improbably, discontent.
John Wilder: “You realize you have an advantage that 99% of people would die for. You’re financially secure. You can quit your job anytime. Literally, you could walk in to your boss this afternoon and quit. Your lifestyle wouldn’t change a bit.”
Not Elon Musk: “Yes.”
Unlikely Voice of Wisdom John Wilder: “So, what is it you want to do?”
Really, I Promise It Isn’t Elon Musk: “I need to think about it.”
Channeling Tyler Durden From Fight Club® John Wilder: “No. If you think about it, you’ll end up doing nothing but thinking about it. You have to do something. Physically start it. This weekend. I’ll check back on Monday to see how you did.”
There is a scene in the movie Fight Club™ where Tyler Durden holds a gun to the head of a liquor store clerk. If you haven’t seen the movie, I strongly suggest it. I probably watch it once a month while I write – I think there are few movies that communicate the human condition in modern life so well.

Pugsley doesn’t miss many school days.
JACK, in voiceover: On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
CLERK: Please… don’t…
TYLER DURDEN: Give me your wallet.
Tyler pulls out the driver’s license.
TYLER: Raymond K. Hessel. 1320 SE Benning, apartment A. A small, cramped basement apartment.
RAYMOND: How’d you know?
TYLER: They give basement apartments letters instead of numbers. Raymond, you’re going to die. Is this a picture of Mom and Dad?
RAYMOND: Yes.
TYLER: Your mom and dad will have to call kindly doctor so-and-so to dig up your dental records, because there won’t be much left of your face.
RAYMOND: Please, God, no!
JACK: Tyler…
TYLER: An expired community college student ID card. What did you used to study, Raymond K. Hessel?
RAYMOND: S-S-Stuff.
TYLER: “Stuff.” Were the mid-terms hard? I asked you what you studied.
JACK: Tell him!
RAYMOND: Biology, mostly.
TYLER: Why?
RAYMOND: I… I don’t know…
TYLER: What did you want to be, Raymond K. Hessel?
Tyler cocks the .357 magnum Colt© Python™ pointed at Raymond’s head.
TYLER: The question, Raymond, was “what did you want to be?”
JACK: Answer him!
RAYMOND: A veterinarian!
TYLER: Animals.
RAYMOND: Yeah … animals and s-s-s —
TYLER: Stuff. That means you have to get more schooling.
RAYMOND: Too much school.
TYLER: Would you rather be dead?
RAYMOND: No, please, no, God, no!
Tyler uncocks the gun, lowers it.
TYLER: I’m keeping your license. I know where you live. I’m going to check on you. If you aren’t back in school and on your way to being a veterinarian in six weeks, you will be dead. Get the hell out of here.
JACK: I feel sick.
TYLER: Imagine how he feels.
Tyler brings the gun to his own head, pulls the trigger — click. It’s empty.
JACK: I don’t care, that was horrible.
TYLER: Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of Raymond K. Hessell’s life. His breakfast will taste better than any meal he has ever eaten.

How dare you . . . make Greta uncomfortable.
And it’s true. I tend to think that everyone’s life would be a little better if they had Tyler Durden to be a life coach, to ever so gently coax them to be the best they can be while holding a .357 magnum Colt® Python™ to their head. That seems to be a bit frowned upon, so that leaves my friends with me. See how lucky you are?
In my role as Dr. Durden, I’ve noticed that there’s a problem some people have. It’s being too clever. It’s thinking. How do I know? It’s my problem that I try to compensate for by writing and doing. If I think about doing something, it will never get done. I keep thinking about fixing the banister that broke when we moved into the house a decade ago. It’s never been high on my list, since people falling down stairs is funny, with extra points if they are really old. But thinking about doing something never accomplishes anything.
If I plan to do it, it will get done. Half of my time driving to and from work on a day I’m going to write a post, I’m writing it in my head, selecting jokes, thinking of themes. It’s also spent thinking of how I’m going to connect the idea I want to share with students who might be forced to read this post when Mrs. Grundy tells them to compare and contrast my work with that poseur, Mark Twain, in high school in the year 2248 (that’s when Kirk will be a sophomore).

Okay, generally on my drive to work I have about five or ten minutes between cars, so it would take several hours to get a group of cars behind me like that. But a man has to have goals!
It may look like I’m driving to work, but I’m really plotting out what I’m going to write about. To be honest, it sometimes takes both lanes to do that. I wish the State Patrol® would be a little more understanding to artists like me.
Thankfully, The Mrs. is.
The Mrs. and I had a conversation the other night. It may or may not have involved wine – I’m not telling unless I’ve been subpoenaed and am under oath to a House subcommittee. Actually, it wasn’t so much a conversation as The Mrs. describing to me how she felt about this little project I publish three times a week.
I don’t make any money on this blog, though I’ve made clear since day one that can change at any time. I have plans for several (eventual) ways to do that including adding subliminal messages causing you to want to pay for my health insurance. It looks like it’s already worked for Bernie Sanders.

In a socialist paradise all bloggers make $450,000 a year, right? But I worry that for this Christmas we won’t have an Elf on a Shelf, we’ll have a Bernie on a Gurney.
No, at this point, writing is a hobby. But it’s a hobby that takes over 20 hours a week, sometimes closer to 30 hours. I still have a job, and I won’t stop interacting my family, so most nights I won’t even start writing before 9pm. A lot of that time comes from time I’d normally be selfishly engaged in what you mortals call “sleep”, but a chunk of that time comes directly from time I’d be spending with The Mrs.
When I’m writing, I’m simply not available. I’m writing.
The Mrs.: “You know, I would certainly have an issue with the time that you spend writing, if it weren’t important.” There was more to this, where she detailed the number of hours I spend. But I keyed in on the word “Important.”
I was a little surprised by that. “Important?”
The Mrs.: “Yes. I can see that what you’re writing about is important. People need to hear it. So keep doing it.”
Okay, that proves she never reads this stuff.
But as I talked more with my friend, the concept of “meaning” came up.
My Friend Who is Really Most Certainly Not Elon Musk: “So, it’s about meaning?”
Suddenly as Wise as the Roman Philosopher Seneca John Wilder: “That’s silly. You don’t go off chasing ‘meaning’ in your life. Pick out something you like to do, and do it. But figure out how to make it important to other people. You like to woodwork, right? You say you never have time to do it. Do it this weekend. Film it. Put it up on YouTube®. I’ll be checking up with you on Monday.”
I asked myself, why is my friend working at all? I think because he feels he’s supposed to work. That having a job is a rule, it’s what he’s always done. The problem that many of us have is that we tend to create rules where there aren’t any rules. I’m not sure why. Perhaps we need to justify what we do. Perhaps it’s like my two important rules for life:
Success? My friend is already successful in most ways a person can be successful. Their life is really good. I told them, directly, “You’ve been given so many gifts. If you don’t make something special of your life, you’re wasting it.”
Interestingly, this applies to you, too.
And me.
How will your breakfast taste tomorrow?
How to find a great bargain:
The whole podcast:
And a parody song by the NPCs: