The only certain consolation Lady History gives us is this certain categorical: the big shots of today are the dried, fallen and forgotten leaves of tomorrow.

Falling leaves:

My Dear Harry and Ramin:

I’ll split the difference with you and I’ll say that it is very difficult to say just where a society is when one is having the conversation contiguous with events themselves.
 
In no other time in history has man been able to sit and say “Oh, well, we are on the rise, or we are now robust and in full flower, or, Oh, well , we’re, in decline or at the beginning, middle, high middle or end of decline.”
 
Imagine the Romans having such discussions?  Or even the Germans under Hitler or the Russians under Stalin or the Red Chinese under Mao?
 
Suffice to say that those of us who have had the benefit of decent educations and happily yet retain active minds are in sync to think that America and the West are not, today, in their finest hours.
 
I think to a degree that the very bad hours we are in are driven by our very ability, unprecedented in history, to talk in the present tense about the present time. To what degree that ability affects outcomes themselves, I couldn’t say except to say that it is a part of the equation, most particularly so with respect to politics.
 
As to totalitarians, in various forms, they have existed forever and will exist forever.  
 
All sorts of guys want to run the world and force other men to bend the knee to them.  For a time, some men are very successful despots.  Beyond debate, those of us who know Lady History know this: in the end, all the little tin Gods fall down.  All the little tin Gods fail.
 
The only certain consolation Lady History gives us is this certain categorical: the big shots of today are the dried, fallen and forgotten leaves of tomorrow.
 :
Ever, 

Jack

AND, MAN WAS MADE GOD AND DWELT AMONGST US.

Percy Bysshe Shelley was a very pretty young man with very sad eyes, who left us terribly young, lost at sea, and yet managed a wonderful surprise for us–one of the best poems ever penned and, for having penned it, insured his immortality.  Yet, very wisely, he did not pretend to be God.~~

In this, our, on-going, chronicle of the suicidal saga of a young and restless people called the Americans in the fading light of their late First Empire wherein, vanity run all amok we find:

~~

Man was made God and dwelt amongst them.

~~  

As man’s seemingly, ungovernable vanity, is our topic this day, we are wise to visit with also here, very briefly, Aristotle, Stalin, Hitler, Mao of the Chinese and, thank God, young Shelly for our closing poem, Ozymandias, itself a derivative reference to Ramesses II, the Great One, third Egyptian Pharaoh, and yet another in an endless line of  Tin Gods with very high opinions of themselves and yet, somehow, despite their grandeur, today largely lost and forgotten to Lady History, and on tomorrow, forever neglected and ignored by Her.

~~~

Aristotle cautions us that the highest attainment of man is to: think.

~~

That is what he would have us do to be free men and wise.

~~

To spend all our day: thinking.

~~

The Americans are a juvenile and boastful people who, today, are not fond of thinking at all, much yet all day long, but they are very fond of preening pomposity and they say—thus, brashly:

~~

“There is no coincidence in life, I make my own coincidence!!”

~~

This is odd as, if the Americans were to think—not all day–just a bit–about this comment, they would realize it for the rash braggadocio and silliness that it is.

~~

Beyond dispute, all is coincidence.  All is accident.  We experience the accident of birth, marriage, leaving home 5 minutes too early or too late and getting into, or not getting into, a fatal car crash, being in the right place or wrong place politically when the wheel goes ‘round–accidents of history–accidents of life.  Your stocks and bonds go up or down.  You control nothing.  There is nothing to brag about.

~~

The Americans, are disposed by their frisky young traditions to entertain all manner of  feints of vanity.

~~

They will tell you:

~~

“Luck?? I make my own luck!!”

~~

You make your own luck, do you?

~~

Well now.

~~

Remarkable.

~~

To say that:

~~

“I make my own luck!!” is

chiefly remarkable because luck is, of definition:

~~

Coincidental good fortune.

~~

Accidental, transitory, victory.

~~

The Americans of this present time are very boastful and vain.

~~

This vanity is both painful and hilarious to watch.

~~

The ultimate vanity of course is for man to presume to become:

~~

God.

~~

The Americans did not invent this presumption and will not be the last civilization to cultivate this whimsical idea.

~~

Very recently in history Joseph Stalin, Man of Steelprovides us a good case study in this vanity.

~~

Stalin was virtually illiterate, save a few years in a seminary school to train to wear God’s cloth, an education he shared with both Mr. Hitler and your writer.

~~

Despite his poverty and lack of book learning, Stalin, like Hitler, understood uncannily the nature of the people he used to further his monstrous vanities and lusts for power and dominion.

~~

As Hitler, who was by blood an Austrian and not a German, and yet somehow fully understood the Germans and which of their buttons to push when, Stalin, who was a Georgian and not a Russian, understood the Russians as did no other leader they have ever had.

~~

Stalin had an intuitive sense of the Russians that is truly remarkable to contemplate.

~~

He used this intuitive knowledge not only to subjugate and murder the Russians but likewise to make himself into:

~~

Russia Herself.

~~

The Russians are a very sad, very simple, people to observe through the lens of history.

~~

The Russian people understand only three things–nothing more:

~~

God and His Church, The Emperor and the Motherland.

~~

Stalin, the illiterate, systematically became all three of these touchstones.

~~

Becoming the Emperor was easy.  After Stalin’s sponsor, the frail and mentally confused Mr. Lenin, went to meet his Maker, or wherever communists imagine they go when they leave this globe, Stalin took power with a gun and became the New Emperor.

~~

Stalin then proceeded to become God, literally.

~~

All the icons of the Church were torn down and burned.

~~

The priests were beheaded, a decapitation so symbolic that the simple Russians understood that Stalin was now God.

~~

All ornaments that hung inside the doors of all Russians, no matter how low their station, were taken down and, by decree, replaced with portraits and visages of the new God, Stalin.

~~

At, what had been celebration of Christmas and other civilized, high feasts, Stalin’s smiling image was adorned with festive wreaths and lights—he was indeed God—the Babe Jesus Himself.

~~

To become the:

~~

Motherland Herself, was a tad more dicey a vanity to satisfy—but here, his erstwhile ally, Mr. Hitler, lent a hand in the summer of 1941, by invading Russia.

~~

After a fortnight of frenzied, alcoholic haze in his dacha outside Moscow, a stunned Stalin observed the arrival of his high command, of men who had been unwilling to act without his command, and Stalin thought the game was finally up for him.

~~

The Man of Steel assumed he would be arrested and butchered as he had done so many times to so many others himself.

~~

Instead, the high command, not realizing his momentary weakness, held Stalin high aloft and made him their leader at war—they made him:

~~

Russia Herself.

~~

Stalin is now remembered as a terrible tyrant, if he is remembered at all—and as the world hurdles forward, he is less and less remembered at all.

~~  

But for this:

~~

I remember him here because his singular vanity, to presume to become God, is now a vanity of the Americans.

~~

The, now complete, addiction to the notion that man can become God is an American vanity acquired gradually.

~~

Many of the unlettered are today fond of saying for instance: “I am spiritual but not religious,” a hilarious comment, utterly devoid of meaning always tendered with the greatest of doe-eyed, feminine, earnestness.

~~

When I ask, both quizzically and comically:

~~

“Well, I see, you are spiritual but not religious—I can’t think what the devil that means–please tell me now,” none can answer–such is the vapidity of modernism.

~~

They don’t know what it means—this, their own profession of the new faith.

~~

Those who are called today among the Americans “progressives”—a very odd word given progressivism’s invidious intentions, realize, as did Stalin, that banishing God is a most necessary precursor to making Man into God.

~~

That is the objective—not to be without God but to instead: become God.

~~

So, we “progress,” from God made man—Christmas Day—to Man made God—progressivism.

~~

Man’s vanity never ceases and is both startling and hilarious at one and the same time.

~~

In keeping with the objective to make man God, we are told:

~~

“I do not believe in a Creator or in any afterlife—heaven and hell and all that sort is for hillbillies.”

~~

I see.

~~

The, for now, dominant, strain in American culture being progressivism, man will soon think himself successful in having become God.

~~

Man will control the weather and the ebb and flow of the tides and the seas we are told, as man progresses to be God.

~~

Well, well, my, my.

~~

Mr. Stalin would be jealous of our brashness.

~~

The Americans, as earlier with Mr. Stalin, as with Mr. Hitler and Mr. Mao of the Chinese, will be very disappointed in their overreach in attempting to replace God with man.

~~

These three named earlier tyrants are all gone now and forgotten to most but for old men such as myself, and, very, very soon, to all men.

~~

The Americans are a kindly, strikingly and uniquely charitable, but silly and hopelessly young people.

~~

They cannot remember, if many of them ever knew, of the vanity of man through history.

~~

Their present day Tin Gods, who boast they will raise and lower the seas and likewise control the ebb and flow of the tides and control the storms and the temperatures up and down will be not ever become True God but remain mere mortals, who will shortly pass on to, wherever it is that:

~~

Spiritual, but not religious, progressives think they go when they die and–horror of horrors, be forgotten, in the blink of an eye.

~~

The onrush of history is savage, relentless and swift.

~~

No man endures, all crumble and die and new tyrants holding fast to new vanities arise, have their brief moment in the sun and then, simply vanish into oblivion.

~~

The Americans, in this, our saga of their late first Empire, evidence a singular silliness.

~~

The American progressives seek to mock God and His Believers, yet they wish desperately to become God themselves and assume His Duties.

~~

What greater vanity could man divine than that?

~~

The Americans are a hopelessly young people, just getting their sea legs, really.

~~

As such, they should be forgiven freshmen errors to a very large extent.

~~

Yet, their vanity is today, of a fully mature, upper classman’s,  presentation.

~~

I am both saddened and amazed by the Americans.

~~

They held such promise for the world.

~~

Yet today we have men of prominence in the nation who seek an office far, far, too high to reach.

~~

Rather than be satisfied, and, yes, humbled, by high office and positions in government ministries, American men today seek to be God Himself.

~~

This can never be and is comedic to consider really.

~~

I am sanguine they will not, but duty compels I suggest they read this startlingly riveting, wonderfully beautiful,  poem on the vanity of man, likely the best admonition ever penned about just:

~~

How great thou art not:

~~~

Ozymandias

I met a traveler from an antique land,

Who said:

`Two vast and trunkless legs of stone,


Stand in the desert.

Near them, on the sand,


Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,


And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,


Tell that its sculptor well those passions read.


Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,


The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.


And on the pedestal these words appear —


“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:


Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”


Nothing beside remains.

Round the decay


Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare


The lone and level sands stretch far away.’

Percy Bysshe Shelley

~~

1792-1822

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

How short the list one could compile of those of whom it can be said that fame and money did not deprave?
1147013_363612750432676_183433089_o

s320.jpg BIG

  • At Washington, capital city of the terminally self-absorbed, mortal man holds to fleeting, feeble and fallible opinion, God immutable fact.
      • ~~
      • It is my assessment that America is dying inside, being eaten away by the horror of the collapse of the middle orders, the attendant societal and religious values and customs of those orders and the ubiquity of war making for dubious purpose.
      • ~~
      • The rich man ought not be taxed at all~~he ought be compelled to employ and train the poor man~~directly~~personally.

      ~~

      The principal need in America today is~~financial and industrial De-Globalization~~to facilitate the promotion of the possibility for the average man to get and keep a good job with good benefits paid by the employer~~as was done not very long ago.~~
       clip_image002MA9982782-0001
       

       

      ~~Bene Nati, Bene Vestiti, Et Mediocriter Docti~~
      ~

      ~~La crema y nata~~

      ~

      ~~Artista de la conquista

      ~~

       

      In sunshine and in shadow~~I hold tight to the Republican view of time and money~~I write night and day~~yet~~while impecunious~~I am vastly overpaid~~in that taking pay to do what I love is unfair~~to my employer~~in a fair system~~under such circumstances~~I should pay him~~not he me~~I am far, far too old a man to be sexually confused~~praise Jesus~~but I am yet young enough to be politically confused~~is anyone not~~in an absolute sense~~I am a Catholic Royalist~~in a practical sense~~I am a Classical Liberal~~a Gaullist~~a Bonapartist~~an American Nationalist  Republican~~in either sense~~my head is soon for the chopping block~~to hasten my interlude with Madame La Guillotine~~I write without fear~and without favor of~any man. 
      
      ~~
       
      Finis Origine Pendet…
       
       
      The escape commences…
       
      ~~
       
      September, 1957
       
      ~~
       
      Saint Jane Frances de Chantal Catholic parochial school, called, by anyone of any background, simply: “Chan~al,” a place where, of an autumn day in 1957, school,  for me,  began and ended in the first convening of the first grade in which a tiny nun, one Sister Dom Bosco, appeared before me, just behind the window appearing at far left of this photograph, and piped out this: “I may be small, but so then, is the Atom Bomb.”
      ~~
      My determination to escape school commenced immediately on hearing about this Atom Bomb business and took 16 dicey and arduous years to finally accomplish.~~
      ~~
       
       
       
      Non Sibi
       
       
      The escape continues…
       
       
      ~~
       
      September, 1966
       
      ~~
       
      The Cathedral Latin School
       
      ~~
       
       
       
       
        Finis Origine Pendet
       
       
      ~~
      Κύριε ἐλέησον
      ~~

      Rejoice and Glad!!

      ~~

      Amen~~

       

      CUA_Cardinal_2008

      ~The Original Angry Bird~~The Catholic University of America Screaming Red Cardinal Mascot~~

       

       

      clip_image002MA9982782-0001
      ~~EX LIBRIS~~
       
      ~~
       
       
       
      THEOS EK MĒCHANĒS
       
       
       
      ~~
        8 September, Tuesday,  Anno Domini Nostri Iesu Christi, 2015
      
      Website: http://johndanielbegg.wordpress.com

      http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=122865699&trk=tab_pro

       http://www.facebook.com/JohnDanielBeggPublicAffairs
      
       http://www.tumblr.com/blog/theoldsoldiershome1952

      http://www.facebook.com/john.begg.33

      http://www.pinterest.com/johnbegg33/boards/

      http://independent.academia.edu/johnbegg/Papers?s=nav#add

      http://www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/jtdbegg

      Tweets: @jtdbegg

       http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=122865699&trk=hb_tab_pro_top
      “Jean-Marie Le Pen is a friend. He is dangerous for the political set because he’s the only one who’s sincere. He says out loud what many people think deep down, and what the politicians refrain from saying because they are either too demagogic or too chicken. Le Pen, with all his faults and qualities, is probably the only one who thinks about the interests of France before his own.”~~
       
      
      
      French actor~~Alain Delon
      
      

      CONCEPT OF THE CATHOLIC AND ROYAL ARMY OF AMERICA (CRAA)
      THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA
      Logo of The Catholic University of America.svg
      Seal of The Catholic University of America
       

      Motto:

      ~~

      Deus Lux Mea Est

      ~~

      Acta Est Fabula

      The escape concludes…

      ~~

      The Catholic University Of America, Washington, District of Columbia.

      ~~

      1976, Anno Domini Nostri Iesu Christi.

      ~~

       

      Acta Est Fabula.

      ~~

      Deus Vult.

      Image

      ~~Our Ubiquitous Presence~~

      The Queen~~

      Our Queen now 63 years on~~

      Simply the best President we could ever hope to have~~

      image002 (20)

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2 thoughts on “The only certain consolation Lady History gives us is this certain categorical: the big shots of today are the dried, fallen and forgotten leaves of tomorrow.

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