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Friday, 28 July 2023
Guns, Porn and Stem Cells: The CofE's Ethical Investment Policy
Thursday, 27 July 2023
Neil Oliver: ‘…they’re in our homes & minds!’
Wednesday, 26 July 2023
Douglas Macgregor - The Massive Offensive of 750,000 Russian Troops
Sunday, 23 July 2023
The Meaninglessness of Modern Life
The Meaninglessness of Modern Life
By: Pastor Andrew Isker
Modern life is meaningless. Our young people believe they have no other purpose on this earth other than to seek pleasure and entertain away their boredom. Tens of millions in our country live this way. Is it any wonder that we have never been more anxious, depressed, and suicidal?
Like many in the Millennial Generation, I went to college and enjoyed four years of few responsibilities and seemingly endless opportunities for fun with friends. Your first taste of life as an adult is pleasure island. You are young with unlimited free time and can do whatever you want. Even if you are a Christian and you avoid the bacchanal of drunkenness, drugs, and fornication, you still become accustomed to a slightly more wholesome dissipate lifestyle. You assume this is what adult life is. For many in my generation, you leave college and continue to chase that same high. You find a job—if you are lucky—and have less free time. You are separated from most of your college friends. But you become desperate to relive those glory days, even if only Friday night through Sunday.
For many, if not most in my generation, that is the “good life” you are programmed to pursue. You exist merely to maximize your own pleasure. You exist to work enough to be entertained. To produce enough so that you might consume. But as sand slowly drains from the hourglass and your youth slowly escapes you, at some point you begin to feel an existential dread. Deep down, in your bones, you know you were not made for this. This is not enough. There is something missing. Even recapturing the highs of college and taking a trip to Vegas with the boys doesn’t hit the same. The high wears off and the hangover sets in and never goes away.
Such is the experience of so many in my generation. It will be the experience of the generation to follow, as well. The days of our youth, when all our ancestors formed families and built with a mind to the future, are wasted by us. Looking at fertility statistics, nearly half of American women under 45 are childless. This portends a time to come when a majority of people are totally alone, with no stake whatsoever in the future. A people who will die alone and who will have devoted their life to nothing but conspicuous consumption.
This is how civilizations die. Sometimes they are overthrown in cataclysmic warfare and conquest. More often, they lose the will to live and die of demographic suicide. You cannot really blame this generation any more than you can blame the Boomers for the conditions they were born into and shaped by. And look at what this generation was formed by. They were born just after the median standard of living peaked in America. Everyone assumed the good times would continue on indefinitely and the next generation would simply inherit it. We came of age where everyone was living as if the good times were still here, but the fact that they were gone and never coming back was something that escaped everyone.
At the same time, all the things that give life meaning were taken from us and in many cases vilified. We grew up being taught that pride in your heritage as an American is the very grave sin of “ethnocentrism” and very near kin of the unforgivable sin of racism. Implicit in this idea is that it is good for America to simply die off and be replaced by random human beings from across the globe. Whether you were on the far left or a conservative evangelical, you were brought up believing the world is soon going to end, either from Global Warming or the Rapture, respectively. Why would you want to bring children into a doomed world to suffer?
A very brief blip of reinvigorated patriotism after 9/11 was quickly spent on trillion-dollar, decades-long, aimless occupations of third-world countries in the Middle East. The very same people singing along to Toby Keith’s “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue” would, less than two decades later, be calling America “the most racist country in the world.” Why would you want to create new Americans if that were the case? Any vital spirit, any pride in people or place was systematically removed. The energy that previous generations would devote to producing subsequent generations has been spent on satisfying our fleeting desires.
It may seem like our civilization is doomed. It might seem like we are never coming back. In many ways this is true. The old America is gone. It has no will to survive. This does not mean, however, that Americans will disappear. What instead is taking place is a great bifurcation. Those who still retain the will and energy and desire to see their nation be preserved, to have it continue on to the next generation are consciously separating themselves from the old world.
These are young people who love their country, love their people, love their place, and love their heritage. These are young people who have seen the worthlessness of living for nothing except to consume and be entertained. Young people who realize what I call “Trashworld” must be totally despised. Young people who recognize that their lives are about so much more than going to nice bars and restaurants with friends week after week. Young people who have rejected the path of least resistance offered to them and instead chosen the way of life our ancestors pursued. A life of dedication and duty. A life of honor. A life that produces life. They have instead sought out a life that rejects our world’s banishment of the transcendent and looked to the heavens to pursue the glory of God. No longer is the meaningless of modern life acceptable to them. They seek out what the Lord has created them to be.
There yet remains a vanguard of those who carry forth the torch of civilization. The events of the past few years have caused many of them to reorganize and reorient their lives around building communities that will survive what is to come. Just as ancient Christians lived in a polis—city—inside the polis, so too must we today. And not just communities of Christians generally, including those enamored with Trashworld, but those who see the time of day. God has orchestrated events such that we are forced into doing so. No longer can we remain comfortable and complacent like those who love the world of filth.
No, instead we must become like the Pilgrims who first settled in America. But unlike them, there is no wilderness of the New World to settle. We must re-found our nation even as the decaying one has not yet fully surrendered to ruin. This mission is the antidote to modern ennui. The mission of Christians is to rebuild what we have lost and carry forward the inheritance we have been given—a mission to build a Parallel Christian Society. Far from despairing at the death of the nation we love, we can devote ourselves to rebuilding it anew. And while the lovers of Trashworld breathe their last gasps alone and terrified with nothing but faded memories of brunch, we will go to glory surrounded by our children’s children who will take up the mantle of building a new Christendom after we have gone. That is a vision of the good life. That is the vision of a life well spent. And that is what we must pursue.
City of Santuary UK - The Nationwide Network For Illegal Immigrants
City of Santuary UK - The Nationwide Network For Illegal Immigrants
Most illegal immigrants choose the route via Greece, they know that it's the easiest and cheapest route and that they'll also have 'IsraAid' waiting there for them to supply them with food, clothing, cash and directions on how to reach Britain.
As shown in this video: https://link.gy/169ba
These illegal immigrants travel all the way through Europe, desperate to reach Britain, ever wondered why that's the case? The reason is 'City of Santuary UK'. This organisation registered as a charity in 2005 and was created in the city of Sheffield in Yorkshire by Craig Barnett and his organisation is now enormous.
How big? This big: https://data.cityofsanctuary.org/groups/list
The illegal immigrants know that thanks to this nationwide organisation operating in Britain each and everyone of them is guaranteed the best free housing, free gas and electricity, free food, free travel, free amenities, (everything from sporting facilities, gardening allotments, maternity facilities), as soon as they step off the boat. They literally have their own nationwide network in Britain.
Things such as this: https://cityofsanctuary.org/
And this: https://gardens.cityofsanctuary.org/resources
And this: https://maternity.cityofsanctuary.org/service-award
Now you know why they come to Britain across the channel at a rate of 1,000 per day, (and that's only the ones we know about). Everything is literally handed to them on a plate. They also know that they have 24 hour-a-day political and police protection from any reprisals from our indigenous population.
We're being replaced, Mr. and Mrs. White, the people who are hellbent on replacing us are the central bankers, they refer to this as their 'Kalergi Plan':
Saturday, 22 July 2023
Alasdair Macleod: BRICS To Establish Power Base Trading Block For The World
Matt Le Tissier on the madness of the last few years
Is Pride a Sin?
Thursday, 20 July 2023
Kissinger's Abortion Holocaust - Nick Griffin on the Templar Report Live July 2023
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Staying Local
Staying Local
By: Rory Feek
I once made a trip north to Amish country in Ohio to visit and spend time with Marlin and his team at the Plain Values home office. In the few days that I was there, I returned home with some unexpected personal insights that I thought I might share in the next column or two. The first one has to do with automobiles, or actually maybe the lack of automobiles in the world of the Amish, and also recently in mine.
On our last evening in Ohio, Joel Salatin invited me to come to an event he was speaking at in Middlefield, where a few hundred Amish folks from the community would be gathering to listen to and learn more about ‘being self-sustainable in challenging times.’ I thought this was an unusual talk considering how self-sustainable the Amish are. So, I was excited to go check it out.
The sun was setting, and snow was falling as we neared the event center where Joel was to speak. The highways were filled with hundreds of cars and trucks coming and going, as the snow fell harder and the visibility on the roads decreased. The travelers were all safe and snug in vehicles that made it possible to feel like it’s summertime, as they made their way through the frigid weather.
But here and there, we kept seeing fainter lights, moving much slower through the snow falling on the roads. Silhouetted horses and black buggies filled with Amish men and women were making their way to the event just like us. When we arrived, there were dozens of buggies lined up in a row in the parking lot.
Joel’s talk was wonderful, and everything he shared was well received by the hundreds of Amish folks who left their coats and hats piled on tables by the door and filled every seat in the room. I was honored to hear Joel speak and get to meet some wonderful Plain people who came up to me and said they’d been reading this column and even some of the books I’ve written.
When the event was over, the snow was falling even harder. As we made our way to our warmed-up rental car, dozens of Amish men were holding lanterns, scraping snow off their buggies, and hitching up their horses for the cold ride home. I thought about all the women in their dresses and the small children who would be making the chilly ride too.
The next morning on our way back to Tennessee, I found myself thinking about the cars that had filled the icy roads and the stark contrast between them and the horses and buggies, and why I felt such deep respect for the latter, even though logically it makes no sense to travel in such a difficult way when there are such easier options available. And yet, it strangely felt like their choice was better. But why?
Who would do that? I mean, who would purposely choose a slower, harder way of traveling over something faster and much easier… beside the Amish, that is? But then it occurred to me that, well, I would. And actually, I realized that, in some ways, I already have.
Now, I have been financially blessed to own and drive some nice cars and trucks over the last decade or two, but in the last year, I sold all of them. All except one that is.
First went the family Suburban last summer. With children, full-size SUVs are big and comfortable and even have built-in video players for those passengers in the back seat to make the ride even more enjoyable. The truth is that the video player went long before the Suburban did. Much like the time a dozen or more years ago, when my wife and I removed the television from our farmhouse, I came to realize that although Disney movies made traveling in the car fun for my little girl Indiana, it clearly wasn’t better for her. And so, one day I just decided to push the player closed, and we never opened it up again. Luckily, my little one loves playing with Barbies and reading books, so it wasn’t too much of a struggle for her to just talk with her Papa or play on her own while we drove.
Then this past fall, I took the final step and sold the F350 King Ranch that had been my dream truck for years. Living here on a farm, that one was a lot tougher for me to let go of. It had been easy to justify keeping it, by thinking it was a necessity. But with pickups in the driveways of both my brothers-in-law on the north and south sides of us, I clearly had access to a truck if I needed one. So last October, I handed the keys to my truck over to a new owner and drove home in my 1954 Oldsmobile 88.
Since the mid-90s I have always had at least one classic car from the ’50s that I would take out from time-to-time on Sunday drives when the weather is beautiful. If you don’t mind not having air conditioning or a heater that works very well, these classic cars are wonderful. Though most of them weren’t much to look at, or barely ran, I felt inside that they provided a link to the past my life somehow needed. A part of me wanted to make them a ‘daily driver’ but honestly, it just never made sense when I always had faster, easier vehicles as an option to drive.
My Oldsmobile, while it can be fun to drive, can also be very difficult. It lacks the comforts of the previous cars we’ve owned and a high probability of breaking down if I travel too far or go too fast.
But that isn’t the point. I didn’t want to go too far or too fast.
This decision was part of my continued effort to simplify this past year, with the hopes of making our lives more meaningful. While I had purged our modern vehicles and opted for a daily driver that lacked power steering, power brakes, defrost, and a windshield that forever stayed fogged up (not to mention leaking water every time it rained), I chose to limit my mobility intentionally to stay connected to my community.
I didn’t choose what was easiest for our family… I chose what was best for us.
For me, my decision to sell our nice cars and drive an older one wasn’t just about choosing to downsize vehicles, it was actually about choosing to stay more connected to the place where I live and the people around me. Like the Amish, whose horse and buggy keep them from straying too far from their beloved community, so my old car keeps me local. I too, in a way, have decided to be tethered to my community. Purposely. I don’t want to be able to go anywhere and everywhere whenever I choose. Instead, I choose to be happy where I am.
Being in Ohio this past week and seeing the Amish people’s commitment to their communities being lived out in their simple mode of transportation reminded me that sometimes we have to make decisions that aren’t always easy for others to understand. I like to think that these kind of choices hopefully make us better people. When Indy and I are tooling down the road in our old car it reminds me of this commitment and gives me hope that I’m on the right path… or at least a better path for me and the community that I’m part of.
This article was orginally published in Plain Values Magazine. If you want the latest wholesome stories every month, subscribe to the magazine at plainvalues.com. As a special thanks, get 10% off your subscription with the code “GAB23”!