All have heard the ancient litany: hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times. The wise know the cycle is unbreakable.
It can be argued which point in the endless circle is best. The strong men who labor to make the good times earn the right to call themselves men. But the men at the start of good times have the leisure necessary to become scholars and to advance culture.
However that debate is resolved, the nadir is clear. It is not the hard times, which may be endured, struggled against and overcome. Those amidst the chaos know the cliche’s truth, and can take cheer from it: there is nowhere to go but up.
Therefore the worst era is the Time of Weak Men. The time when it obvious what was lost, to see how easily it could have been saved, to witness the falling off and despair. To see men embrace weakness. To be among those who surrender piece-by-piece for crumbs of comfort. To know that, every day, worse is coming.
Weakness builds upon itself: the stricken encourage others to join them in their submission. The weak hate the strong because the weak are reminded they could be strong if only they had the will.
Our example of a weak man encouraging others in his hersterical effeminacy is drawn, as much else is, from the coronadoom.
A blubbery bugman—the state of his physique is part of the argument—states his delight in the idea of vaccine mandates. They make him feel safe:
[Vaccine mandates] should be imitated at state and local levels too. And corporate America should follow suit. And we need vaccine passports and vaccination permits before entering public places like restaurants, theaters, and sporting events. Make the selfish and stupid bear the burden of their selfish stupidity, not the rest of us.
This terrified man has no understanding of the relative risks of disease, nor of the possibility of vaccine side effects, nor even of the need for vaccines in differing populations. He needs to feel safe, he must have all be as weak as he is.
My patience being all used up by the intensely selfish and dumb, I replied ungently [to a correspondent worried about increasing tyranny]:
Stop talking like an absolute ass. The unvaxxed have no right whatsoever to threaten the rest of us because they are selfish. You don’t wanna vax, we don’t have to hire you. Own your selfish, stupid choices.
How is it the unvaxxed “threaten” this dear poor sweet creature? He himself is vaxxed, and we can infer he believes the vaccine will protect him—from the disease. But not from those who have incorrect beliefs.
This weak man, in his abject fear, has lost his ability to reason. And Reason, you may be sure, is matter of supreme importance to him. This is why it would do no good, no good at all, to tell him that if the vaccine protects him from the worst the bug can do, the origin of the bug doesn’t matter (from a vaxxed or unvaxxed person). And that if he did become infected, he’d not only have the protection created from the vaccine, but also that from defeating the bug itself. Though his fat and sloth would work against him.
He can’t see that, though. Any thought of suffering, even of the remotest vaguest kind, turns him into the same kind of goo that fills his donuts.
Yet isn’t this a paradox? Becoming a blubbery mess brings tremendous risk of disease and death. He might even know this, but will do nothing, and will instead continue to feed his maw—and his malice. For, you see, he only seeks the reform of others, not himself. This is the sine qua non of the bugman.
And what’s this about his patience nearing an end? What happens when it is exhausted?
This is when he will advocate punishing those who disagree with him, recommending, perhaps eventually, even violence be used against those who create fear in him.
He already supports not hiring, and presumably firing (as Duke is doing), those who frighten him. He now says he would stop his enemies from going out in public. It can’t be long before he suggests open violence.
Now this weak man isn’t, perhaps, guilty himself of spreading his fear to this next fellow, but somebody did. This is the editor of a student newspaper at a “major” state university. He opens his op-ed:
Even after receiving my vaccine, I still feel anxious.
Whether it’s walking through a store without my mask or making small talk with a stranger I’m thinking about an invisible virus flying through the air.
More than a year of stay-at-home orders and the feeling of normal life just isn’t coming back.
That anxiety is greater than ever, now that I’m back in Mount Pleasant for my last year at Central Michigan University. Despite my hope for a speedy recovery, the world, this country, and our campus are far from safe.
The pathos is dripping from the page. Kids his age scarcely suffer, even when the get the disease unvaccinated. Yet here he is telling them world what a sissy he is, and how he embraces his effeminacy.
We know that, every day, worse is coming.
BONUS! Two American professors:
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