Things Fall Apart
An email sent to the newsletter readership tonight.
If you have read my writings at the Legal Insurrection blog for any time, you know that one of my favorite poems is The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Most people focus on the line “things fall apart,” with good reason now. It seems that the nation is coming apart and anarchy has been loosed upon the world.
I focus on the last two lines, how “the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.”
The worst people seem to have more passionate intensity, while the best people seem to lack conviction to fight back.
I’m sure you have noticed that. We’ve noticed, too. It’s one of the reasons we fight so hard to be your voice to restore sanity and balance.
As I said in Legal Insurrection’s 15th Anniversary video:
We view ourselves as being your voice, as being able to say the things you know you want to say, but perhaps for fear of job loss can’t say. We draw the fire, so that you don’t have to.
We are witnessing a wholesale assault on truth and reality, particularly on campuses. There’s a famous line, wrongly attributed to George Orwell, that ‘in a world of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
In that respect, we are revolutionary reality and truth tellers. We do it every day at the blog, and in our two main projects.
At CriticalRace.org we document more thoroughly than anyone how ‘critical theory’ based on race has undermined academia and our belief in merit, how the search for objective truth has been subverted by subjective sensitivities. Or, as the President of Harvard said in Congress, “my truth.”
At EqualProtect.org we have filed almost two dozen legal claims in just 9 months with over 9 wins where universities stopped their discriminatory conduct. Our impact has been recognized throughout the media, including the mainstream media. One of our main goals for 2024 is to expand our legal efforts dramatically (keep your eye on the news the first half of January).
At every step we give voice to our shared values in an age where nothing seems tethered to reality.
Some more truth telling: We are growing but small. We need additional resources to fight this battle more aggressively than before, to help you, the ‘best’ stand up to the passionate ‘worst’.
As 2023 comes to a close, we hope that you will make a donation for our common fight.
God bless you all,
Bill Jacobson
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Comments
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Donated on Christmas! Keep up the good fight!
It’s been decades since there was a centre.
When Yeats wrote “…the centre cannot hold” he didn’t know the half of it. It’s not that the centre cannot hold…it’s that it has switched sides.
And that will be a difficult challenge to overcome.
Speaking of things falling apart: We’ve been trying to reach you because your vehicles factory warranty… 🙂
Entropy in play…deevolution of society is anti-western and oh-so-Mongol.
The most important problem is illegal immigration. Sovereignty is paramount.
The second most important problem is federal spending. The federal government will tax you to death, and after you vent your spleen, they will print money and kill your 401K through inflation.. Money means nothing to the feds.
Happy New Year!
Erronius
Tax his land, tax his wage,
Tax his bed in which he lays.
Tax his tractor, tax his mule,
Teach him taxes is the rule.
Tax his cow, tax his goat,
Tax his pants, tax his coat.
Tax his ties, tax his shirts,
Tax his work, tax his dirt.
Tax his chew, tax his smoke,
Teach him taxes are no joke.
Tax his car, tax his grass,
Tax the roads he must pass.
Tax his food, tax his drink,
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his sodas, tax his beers,
If he cries, tax his tears.
Tax his bills, tax his gas,
Tax his notes, tax his cash.
Tax him good and let him know
That after taxes, he has no dough.
If he hollers, tax him more,
Tax him until he’s good and sore.
Tax his coffin, tax his grave,
Tax the sod in which he lays.
Put these words upon his tomb,
“Taxes drove me to my doom!”
And when he’s gone, we won’t relax,
We’ll still be after the inheritance tax.
This poem is presumed to be in the public domain;
no copyright or credit information can be found.
This was the title to Chinua Achebe’s 1958 novel relating a Nigerian view of the social impact of colonization. A great read as well.
Things fall apart they come together. Don’t give up hope.
I’m just the as*hole who WILL make the bitch give up her dead
We’re not done yet.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
-From Ulysses, by Alfred Lord Tennyson