Safetyism

A road to no romance

The great middle ground of reality - that zone between base experience, of wordless understanding and the esoteric heights of spiritual excellence, is not a world I am fond of. I do not wish to traverse this terrain for it is a barren landscape to me. That place where men and women fondle, where they consume, breathe, doom-scroll and act out their social conditioning. But I do, we all must.

In that place exists politics and recently there has been something of a tectonic shift in the plates. I felt the rumble mid guitar solo … and paused.

Make of it what you will - its significance but Trump is again the POTUS.

Way too much ink has already been spilled on this subject and I don’t really want to ooze out too much more but suffice to say I feel something of a relief. I really didn’t like the trajectory we were on - the woke, gay, post modern, fascist, communist, digital ID, track and trace, vaccinated, lawfare, censorship, climate hysteria, net zero, forever war psyop. I am thankful that the American people decided to pull back on the control column and thus avoid crashing Airforce One and all she represents, into the proverbial mountainside. I think a Harris victory would have spelled doom for the American project. Trump would have gone to jail and Musk would have been vilified, bankrupted and subjected to years of lawfare.

The nanny state would have become all consuming - imprisoning dissidents for wrong think, censorship would have become ubiquitous across all social media, digital IDs, CBDCs rolled out and a dreary endless track and trace society would shuffle its way to work under the deadly spectre of Climate Change and potential cancellation. I breathe a little easier now. It is like a weight has been lifted. Even way down here in butt crack nowhere Perth we feel it.

That increasing nannification of everything is a terrible drain on the libertine’s soul. The drive to feminise and protect us all in the name of safety and equality is a scalpel to the artery of creativity and joy. It bleeds us of the very life-giving energy that makes the whole prospect of living fundamentally worthwhile. And I don’t mean feminine in a disparaging way - the feminine impulse to ‘make safe’ is a most noble attribute when applied correctly. No, I’m talking about the rubber matting around the swings of normal life because if it doesn’t hurt when you fall how will you ever derive the motivation to not?

Safety and equality also breeds caution. And caution is the enemy of daring. But only daring brings forth the new and undiscovered. A society that is afraid of adventure, in whatever field of endeavour, is a society in decline. We have been on a flatline lately. Mostly the movies being made are repeats of older concepts or just flat out remakes.

And it’s not hard to find further evidence of this shrinking away from originality. It manifests itself right across society from personal fears to the bland architecture.

I recall a conversation I had with an elderly woman I was living with some time ago. The news was featuring a gas explosion which had startled but did not harm a street in some neighbourhood somewhere … I remarked how exciting that must have been for the residents. Probably the most exciting thing that had happened to them in ten years, possibly for some, their entire lives. She was horrified. She simply couldn’t understand how I could feel any other emotion except sheer terror at the prospect.

I long for adventure. I don’t mean a booked and paid for holiday to Indonesia. I mean a stowaway on a junk into the port of Tanjung Priok. I know it’s all a lot more romantic than reality imposes and I guess that’s half the problem. The lack of romance in a world where you cannot assume another name and slip into a foreign land. Where you can no longer shoot pool with a midget until 2am as the rain pours down long and hot …

In our quest to make the world safe and fair we have made it underwhelming. Where is the whelming to be found? It doesn’t even need to be over. Perhaps this is the unconscious motivation behind my homelessness? The desire for adventure. The cold hard reality of homelessness is however, like sailing in a junk, not nearly as glamorous but there must be some part of me that longs to be wild and untamed. It’s not all bad. I’m currently here:

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