“The more troublesome, unassimilable, or dangerous a designated minority
or non-Western group actually is, the more favorably it is treated."
I saw a little of the Olympics opening ceremony last night; it was
playing on the television at a local eatery where our small nuclear
family, soon to be riven to opposite hemispheres of the globe, had
gathered for a bite.
It was, from what I could see, a dismayingly shallow and garish
entertainment. Apparently the only things worth noticing about Britain
nowadays are its shoddy socialized health system, its fondness for pop
music, and its fashionably (and forcibly)
randomized demography, which has so atomized this once-coherent
population that it is now apparently the law of the land that no two
people of the same human subgroup may appear on stage at the same time.
One thing that is dying fast in our civilization is a proper
appreciation of the importance of major public ceremonies. Britain used
to understand this very well indeed, back when it ruled the world; its
ostentatious rituals took place at the gravitational center of the
culture, pulling all its parts toward the core. But how can this
possibly work now that Britain has traded away its culture for a
shapeless, acentric multiculture, and extinguished its haecceity as a nation, as the homeland of a common people with a shared way of life?
No, that’s all over and done with. In 2012 Britain is nothing but a
place. With its youth long past and all vigor dissipated, the mighty
nation of Churchill and Shakespeare, of Dickens and Drake and Newton and
Nelson, frisks and capers in the costume of the day, hoping for a few
shillings from the crowd.
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