The closer we get to elections in recent years, the less I have to say.
Georgia’s 2014 primary is more than a month away but I’m already tired of what little political discussion still goes on. Ideas — even just ideas about fighting the ruining class’ greed and powerlust — get short shrift in favor of complaining and venting and forecasting either utter doom or some miracle that would only be made possible through ideas.
My ancestors suffered collapse and expatriation, and later generations took part in the establishment of a new and better order, and subsequent generations have fought to preserve that order. All through time, as Stark Young said through one of literature’s few McGehee characters, we keep coming in to the shore like waves — and so do the ages of greatness, and of ruin. A tsunami may wash away all the works of man within its reach but its reach is finite, as is its duration. As long as there are men, men will come back to the cleansed land and rebuild.
If the time of ideas is past, so too someday will their time return.
Until then, I have better things to do.