World War III is coming . . . LET’S DANCE!

We are sleepwalking into the greatest catastrophe in human history.

More accurately, we may be sleepwalking into the end of human history. The end of everything. Period!

Leaders in the US, NATO and the EU have openly stated they intend the Ukraine conflict to go on for a very long time. And remember, this is not about Ukraine. Zelensky is a joke, which makes sense, because he used to be a comedian. He’s perfectly qualified to be a joke. But these days he’s not funny. At all!

Russia does not want war. Russia does not want any of the animosity coming from the West. I can give hundreds of examples of Russia trying to cooperate with us. Now they’re simply fed up. They’re not going to tolerate the lies and broken promises anymore.

US and its NATO allies want to destroy Russia. That’s it in a nutshell. They have all along. Russia did not start this war. US and NATO gave Russia no alternative but to invade.

And the lunatics who are pushing for this will risk everything. They are even talking about nuclear war becoming more inevitable.

Are you getting this? Do you see where we’re headed?

We have one option: Removing these crazies from power. Appealing to them is ridiculous. They’re not listening. They don’t care what we sane and sensible people think. Period! They only know war and conquest. Now it’s destroy Russia and steal everything. Next it’s destroy China and steal everything. If we don’t all die in a nuclear holocaust, we will be in the middle of permanent war and slaughter for the next 20 years.

If there are any serious plans for stopping these maniacs, I’m not aware of them. The Peace Dividend strategy is a long shot. But as far as I can see, it’s all we have. You’ve heard the pleas emanating from the current peace movement . . . “Oh pretty please! Stop the wars. No more bombing Yemen. Bring the troops home. Let’s all be nice to one another!”

You want to see how well this will work? Try telling an anteater to stop eating ants. Next time there’s a thunderstorm, stand on your porch and yell at the clouds. 

So what’s with the title? Well, I have been known to venture into sarcasm . . . at least a few times.

Truth is, I’m completely overwhelmed, underwhelmed, shocked, numb, and baffled. Thus, if everyone now being subjected to the 24/7 barrage of war propaganda, runaway inflation, food shortages, elementary school shootings, a crumbling economy, a totally inept and corrupt governing class, Covid-19 fear porn, monkeypox fear porn, now even casual talk about throwing nukes into the equation . . . yes, if everyone one night just went out into the streets, all 330 million of us, and started dancing, honestly? . . . IT WOULD COME AS NO SURPRISE!

Because THAT’S how nuts everything is these days!

But you know what? Quite honestly, it would be phenomenal to see such a show of unity — as surreal a show as it might be. Because for a few happy moments at least, or however long our little street party lasted, we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats, we’d stop the yelling and blaming and hating, and instead be showing off our best dance moves, shaking our booties, and just having a darn good time. I think it’s a great idea!

Which is my way of saying that more than ever before, we need to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, back-to-back, belly-to-belly, embrace and celebrate what we have in common, and put aside all differences that ultimately aren’t that important. We need to feel human again. We need to fully appreciate one another and understand that unified we are strong, divided we are weak and just pawns in someone else’s game, and that someone else sees us as “expendables”, just cannon fodder in wars to protect their wealth and power. We need to see who the real enemies are. Don’t be fooled by the lies. It’s not you and I that are the problem. We don’t start wars, we don’t crash the economy, we don’t loot the Treasury, we don’t jack up the contagiousness of viruses and inflict them on the rest of humankind, we don’t deprive one another of our share of the vast wealth of this country.

So getting together, whether it’s to dance, or to protest the abuses and humiliations we all endure just trying to survive, or to show up en masse at the polls and vote the pay-for-play lapdogs of the rich and powerful out of office, or to just talk to one another and try to sort out the mess our country is in — yes, getting together — is exactly what we must be doing!

It’s not just a pretty thought. Frankly it’s a matter of survival!

These wars will never end until we the people end them. Or the wars end us.

Yes, it’s that bad. And getting worse by the day.

You think I’m exaggerating? When is the last time you heard any of these blabbermouths on TV, in the media, or in government talk about … wait for it … (drumroll) … PEACE?

I rest my case.

Not long ago I came across a video that turns me into a crying old fool every time I watch it. And I won’t tell you how many times that is. It’s embarrassing and I’m surprised I’m not a dehydrated pile of talcum powder. Check it out!

First off, some things are SO BEAUTIFUL, only tears can express the total profound joy I’m feeling. Such a magnificent song, with such a powerful message! Seeing every size and shape musician, from across the globe, every color and religion and culture, come together just to make great music, to make Cat Stevens’ work of genius come alive again. Whew!

But there’s a darker side to my tears. Cat Stevens performed this the last time in America at the height of his popularity, near the end of his legendary North America tour. That was 1976. Meaning this amazing call for peace has been around for close to a half century. And look at the state the world is in. As inspiring as this masterpiece was back then, we never got on the “peace train”. Now forty-five years later. No peace train. No peace.

And that’s also something to cry about.

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

World War III is coming . . . LET’S DANCE! | John Rachel

A Tale of the Wild West

Some of our greatest traditions come out of the Wild West, a rough-and-tumble time that forged America into the greatest country in the world. A formative time that gave Americans that hard no-nonsense edge that is universally respected far and wide.

Moreover, some would say that the cowboy ethic is still alive and well and drives not only our dealings with the pitiable nullities who aren’t fortunate enough to live here in the “land of the free, home of the brave” — you know, foreigners — but is the key to understanding ourselves, what makes us tick.

So here’s a little yarn for you all to enjoy and get educated with. There will be a question at the end — only one — but I know the kind of smart people who would read something like this here at my website. I have no doubt you’ll all get it right. Or set me straight if I’ve got it wrong.

Here goes.

It was late summer 1859. Billy Balalaika had just arrived in town and was sitting at the bar of its only tavern. The place was noisy, packed with a lot of grisly fellows wearing dusty chaps and smelling like they hadn’t had a bath in three months — because they hadn’t.

Billy was the only guy in the place wearing a black hat. Everyone else had a white hat. That was a weird story in itself. Billy had owned a beautiful stetson he had bought in Durango but a strong gust of wind had blown it into a ravine. So the first thing he tried to do when he got to town was buy a new hat.

The store had an excellent selection. All white. He chose one but the lass at the store said, “Sorry. Can’t sell you that.” She reached behind the counter and pulled out a black hat, the one he was wearing right now.

“But I want a white hat.”

“Can’t do it. I’ve been given instructions. We know who you are. It’s this black hat or no hat.”

Billy was baffled. But he needed a hat.

So here he sat, brand new black hat tipped back on his head, sitting at the bar, sipping a beer, chatting it up with the bartender, trying make conversation with the two smelly blokes on either side.

Making a dramatic entrance that commanded everyone’s attention, in walked Sam Unkel, the roughest, toughest, meanest badass west of Topeka.

Sam drew his gun, walked right up to the bar, roughly turned Billy around, and pointed his six-shooter right at Billy’s face.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Are you sure you have the right person? I’m Billy Balalaika.”

“I know who you are and what you’ve done. Everything that’s gone wrong in this town is your fault. Everything that’s wrong with this world is your fault. So you’re going to die. Right now.”

Billy knew he wasn’t kidding. This guy was obviously insane. His reputation had proceeded him. He had killed many others, most of them innocent people. Sam thrived on being the roughest, toughest, meanest badass around. He was a very sick man.

Billy managed to keep his composure.

“Listen. I’m just having a beer. Why don’t you just sit down and enjoy the evening. Look at this place. Full of fine people, just having a little fun after a hard day’s work.”

“Nope. I’m going to kill you. I hate you. And everyone in this town hates you. I’ve told them all how evil you are. In fact, the only reason I ain’t pulled this trigger yet, is I want to see you suffer. I want to see you squirm and cry and beg. When I’ve had enough of your groveling, then I’m going to splatter your f*cking brains all over that mirror behind the bar.”

It was now apparent there was no reasoning with this lunatic.

Billy then did something so amazing, some people these days would call it “playing three-dimensional chess.”

Billy smiled at Sam Unkel, then at full volume in a beautiful operatic baritone broke into the Russian national anthem — IN RUSSIAN!

Sam, of course, had no idea what he was hearing. But it completely gobsmacked him. For the briefest second, his mind wandered as he tried to process what was going on.

In that instant, Billy drew his own weapon, and fired a perfect shot which blew Sam’s hand clean off. The hand, still grasping the Sam Unkel’s weapon, flew across the room and landed in the middle of a table where a poker game was in progress.

Sam, the roughest, toughest, meanest badass around, went running out of the tavern, screaming in pain, blood shooting out of the stump, all over his beautiful white hat. He didn’t die. But he’s still trying to learn to shoot left-handed.

Billy finished his beer. The bartended comped his drinks. Billy tossed his black hat in the trash on the way out the door. He left town in the morning.

That’s my tale of the wild west, folks. Wasn’t that fun?

Okay, here’s the question. Ready?

We know who fired the only bullet. But who started the gunfight?

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

A Tale of the Wild West | John Rachel

Ban the Bomb!

The first philosophy book I ever read was Bertrand Russell’s Common Sense and Nuclear Warfare. I was 13 years old.

Lord Russell’s writing made a huge impression on me. Though at the time I was reading mostly science and math books, the enterprise of looking at the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom from the broad perspective of a philosopher made deep roots in my sub-conscious and thus my first year of college I changed my major from chemistry to philosophy.

Even more central to the development of my world view and political priorities was the focus of this monumental book on the madness of arming ourselves with nuclear weapons. Here’s the abstract:

“Written at the height of the Cold War in 1959, Common Sense and Nuclear Warfare was published in an effort ‘to prevent the catastrophe which would result from a large scale H-bomb war’. Bertrand Russell’s staunch anti-war stance is made very clear in this highly controversial text, which outlines his sharp insights into the threat of nuclear conflict and what should be done to avoid it. Russell’s argument, that the only way to end the threat of nuclear war is to end war itself, is as relevant today as it was on first publication.”

Compared to today, those were innocent times. 1959 in my view was hardly the height of the Cold War, rather a way station for subsequent ramping up of tensions, which would first peak during the Cuban Missile Crisis at the end of 1962, discernably slow down with the resolution of that confrontation first part of 1963, then again continue to build until 1986 when Russia and the U.S. between them had nearly 65,000 nuclear bombs. Here’s a of the nuclear arms race between the two super-powers:

So in 1959, there were about 12,000 nuclear weapons available for mass annihilation. It is notable that most of those were in the U.S. arsenal, that of the U.S.S.R. less than 10% of the total. The U.S. continued its huge advantage until the U.S.S.R. finally reached parity twenty years later.

We now have active and immediately deployable about 8,000 nuclear weapons. If we count “inactivated” nukes which while not immediately deployable, could very quickly be put online, the total is slightly over 12,000, about the same as 1959. I say that the late 50s represented more innocent times for two reasons. First, back then as I just pointed out, the U.S. had almost all the nukes. The U.S.S.R. certainly wasn’t going to launch their 100+. It would have been almost instantaneous suicide. And while there was some talk a little later about destroying the “commies” both in China and the U.S.S.R. while we had the upper hand, sanity and some shred of moral conscience prevailed. The second reason we are less innocent now and in fact find ourselves living among the greatest threats to human survival in history is simple. Nukes are now in the hands of seven more nations. Three of them don’t inspire much confidence. North Korea, Pakistan, and India are considered “unstable” and U.S. policy toward them doesn’t exactly incentivize them to be less volatile. Likewise with China, which the U.S. openly antagonizes, insults, provokes, and officially has declared it will eventually have to go to war with to keep it from becoming a peer power. China has around 350 nuclear bombs, enough to destroy life on Earth 3 1/2 times over. India and Pakistan combined have about 300 nukes and have made no secret about their intent to use them if they end up in a major war with one another.

Have we learned anything from our flirtation with self-engineered extinction?

What really captured my attention and fired my imagination was Bertrand Russell’s open and highly public opposition. He wasn’t a cowering academic. And because there were still a few sane thought leaders in the world at that time who had high visibility and enormous public respect, Lord Russell was not alone in his passionate appeals for ending the scourge of war.

It’s tempting to say we haven’t learned anything in the past seven decades. But that’s a ridiculous conclusion. The truth is we knew back then and know now exactly what’s wrong and what needs to be done. We had celebrations across the globe recently when the 50th nation ratified the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons and the U.N. “officially” declared nuclear weapons illegal. Any sane, decent human being knows nuclear weapons have no place in the world now or ever, and are a death sentence for the human species waiting for signature — which will be the first mushroom cloud over a major city anywhere on the planet. Of course, none of the nations who have nuclear weapons signed the treaty, there’s no way to enforce the treaty, and the nuclear nations will do whatever they damn please regardless.

Bertrand Russell speaking at a
Ban The Bomb rally.

Which requires us to pause and inhale a deep breath . . . OF REALITY.

For seven decades I’ve been listening to the same painful moans and pitiful mantras. About a whole host of crises and problems: poverty, famine, war, terror, infanticide, genocide, war crimes, bioweapons, oppression, exploitation, on and on and on. And anyone my age will tell you the same. Not much has changed. The excuses are more compelling, the euphemisms are cleverer, the blame-game is Olympic Gold Medal material, the talking heads delivering the 24/7 stream of non-sequiturs prettier and more handsome. Yeah, there are incremental improvements here and there. But SEVENTY YEARS? We’ve put humans in space, transplanted organs, created self-driving cars, mass-produced a telephone-camera-computer-video conferencing computer that fits in the palm of a hand, yet 24,000 people still starve to death EVERY DAY. And we’re still snarling at one another like rabid hyenas threatening war and flirting with extinction. Come on!

The one lesson that obviously has not sunk in is that . . . ALL OF THESE STRUGGLES ARE ABOUT POWER: Those who have it and those who don’t. We can — as Lord Russell did and many good, well-meaning contemporary activists currently do — say all of the right things. But those fighting the good fight DON’T HAVE THE POWER. Those who subject the rest of the human race to indignities, oppression, the sickening homicidal wars, DO HAVE THE POWER and they are not listening. Not to us anyway. They listen to themselves, they serve themselves, their only loyalty is to an agenda that will keep them in power and secure their ability to use and abuse that power as they see fit.

THAT is the lesson we haven’t learned. We know that nuclear weapons are a death warrant. We know that they are a suicide pact. But there they are and there they will continue to sit, ready to unleash more death and destruction — and if not the annihilation of the human species at least the end of anything resembling civilization — than ever before imagined.

If we stop to think, to look at it objectively, the vast majority of people in the world want no part of this. It is a tiny, power-drunk, empire-obsessed, sociopathic few who hold us hostage to their psychotic fantasies.

Let’s break it down . . .

We know what needs to be done.

The lunatics are not now and will never listen to us.

We know how to change everything to make a better world.

The lunatics have their own plan and refuse to change.

The lunatics have the power.

We don’t have the power.

What should we do?

Isn’t it obvious?

But how?

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Ban the Bomb! | John Rachel