Dan Knauss outlines his political beliefs in the New Pantagruel’s forum, and I find myself agreeing with much of what he says:
In the past, I probably would have voted for FDR as a conservatizing Social Democrat concession from a Socialist standpoint of displaced German-Americans who had a big distrust of state powers and fairly medieval and family-based conception of socialism.
Conservatism has always been Statist to the extent that the mainstream of the tradition is Anglo-Protestant. Protestantism and Statism are integrally related, excepting the fringe reactionaries: radical Calvinists who want their own states if they can’t take over the existing state, and Anabaptists who lean anarchistic.
Consider the 2 Kingdoms: Augustine writing in the profound decay of the empire when the vandals are killing and enslaving the commoners describes a fundamentally different mentality than Luther writing during the profound growth of the aristocratic territorial state when the aristocracy is killing and enslaving the commoners. Think about that for a while.
If mainstream Conservatism historically has had a pro-monarchist Tory bent, it is a post-Restoration Anglican/Episcopal monarchism, which is romantic nostalgia grafted onto practical whiggery. This is all the more evident in the American offshoot.
Anti-statist Conservatism, if it excludes most Libertarians, is a fringe handful of philosophically conservative anarchists, those radical Calvinist and Anabaptists, and the largest part of this fringe would be the odd gamut of anti-Statist Catholics. All of these people see a highly decentralized social order as the ideal model. Catholics of this sort see it as having been realized at a high level by about the 15th century in Europe and ruined by the consolidation of power in monarchical bureaucratic states over against the church and commons. They think (correctly) that this change was enabled by the Reformation in which the reconceived protestant church was completely manipulated and coopted by the secular state. The radical Calvinists and Anabaptists perceived this when the state commenced killing and suppressing them. They don’t grasp their part in their own screw-over, but they really want to go medieval too in what is a rejection of the refortmation as a political event. Of course this is often romance as well, or truly bbelieved principle not put into any real action because one likes to have indoor plumbing, etc.
I am only an anti-statist in theory; I am not an activist for the downfall of the state. Were it to become sufficiently corrupt and weakened, I would probably make that jump, along with many other people, out of necessity. Natural response to power-vaccuums. When the federal system fails, the maximum political articulation will contract to the states or state-sized regional entities, or smaller units, depending on the degree of disorder that emerges. I think this will eventually happen–it always does, as no political organization larger than a city-state is a sustainable enterprise in the long run. Our system is, I believe, reaching its end. Probably in the near future of our own lives, but maybe later. Ironically, the longer it takes, the worse it will be. However, I think it’s worth propping up the current system for the order and benefits it affords until the drawbacks for me outweigh the benefits.
A purely rational calculation would be to instigate secessionist movements and regional confederacies now, but even though almost everyone can see how this would be rational, they can’t admit it. It is “not practical” mainly because we have an ingrained superstitious devotion to our version of the imperium. American society is now like a class waiting for a teacher to show up. 5 minutes pass after the bell, then ten. Who will be the first to leave? Will someone get up and clown around? Will someone assume leadership and start talking about what the group should do? We’re just sitting and complaining now.
Posted on 7 June 2006
Daniel Nichols, at Caelum et Terra, has a wonderful review of Bill Kauffman’s Look Homeward, America.
Posted on 6 June 2006
We’ve just returned from our first trip to the New River Gorge with two children. Two lessons were learned.
First, we lack the energy and/or patience to climb with a three year old and a six month old. While we managed to do a reasonable number of routes on Saturday (given our rather un-alpine start), today was a wash. Both boys were tired and grumpy from getting considerably less sleep than usual, and they needed near constant attention from us at all times. We can certainly handle them for a day trip (as we did last weekend at Coopers Rock), but a full weekend is a bit beyond us (and, really, them) at this point.
Second, I am still a climber. There has been some doubt about this, since I haven’t been to the gym since February or March, and I have spent more time on my bicycle. But, a few moves into the 5.11 I started with on Saturday, I realized why I have been climbing for nearly fifteen years. The simple flow of moving of stone, feeling out the ripples and edges, creeping ever upward. For a moment, I even entertained the idea of training again, to make the most of our meager time at the New. I thought the better of it, though, knowing I have not the time nor the motivation. No matter, I could always climb, just climb, even if it means top-roping 5.11, failing miserably on 5.12, or padding up 5.7 on gear. Climbing, just climbing, for the joy of it.
It’s likely we won’t try to make the trip the New again for some time. We will, however, make more frequent trips to Morgantown, or explore some of the newer, local crags, whose existence we ignored when we had the time and energy to travel further south.
Yes, I am still a climber.
Posted on 4 June 2006
Charles Morris has an op-ed piece in the NY Times that speaks more directly to the sort of discontent and displacement that Peggy Noonan touched on. Rod Dreher has already weighed in.
Posted on 2 June 2006
Peggy Noonan’s column suggesting that now is the time for a viable third political party is making the rounds. While I agree with Noonan, and Stegall and Dreher, I wonder if we can do it right this time. Even if a third party candidate could take the White House in 2008, I’m not sure that person could be an effective leader. The Congress will controlled by one of the main parties, and while the President could expect some cooperation on shared issues, how could any major policy shift (especially in a direction that is not distinctly Red or Blue) be pushed through? A proper, grassroots populist movement should start locally and grow organically. Perhaps in five or ten years, a handful of third party politicians could be voted into Congress. Yes, a third party President could shake up the establishment, but could that President actually accomplish anything?
Posted on 2 June 2006
From Bill Kauffman’s Look Homeward, America:
As (Eugene) Debs, (Carolyn) Chute & (Mother) Jones understood, the ennobling work we do is seldom renumerated in greenbacks. Bearing and raising a child, cultivating a garden, just being there for a sibling or friend to lean on: this “work” is compensated in a currency far more valuable than Uncle Sam’s paper. This, in fact, is the work that should be honored on Labor Day. The work we do for “nothing.” (For everything, really.) The work that enriches us as human beings; that binds us to our families and our neighbors; that shrouds even the most commonplace of lives in glory. This is work whose coin, whose only coin, is love.
Posted on 20 May 2006
Today will mark the seventh consecutive commute that has included rain at some point or another. I have ceased to care. Part of this new-found carefree attitude is my discovery of White Lightning chain lube. I had, for as long as I could remember, used the standard Cross Country lube, a viscous synthetic blend that can handle the wettest condition. It’s only drawback? It’s ability to stick to chain also meant it was a magnet for road grit. After just a single ride in the rain, my drivetrain sounded like it was lubricated with sand. Cleaning the chain was a messy process, one that required removing it from bike and dousing it with Simple Green, which only remove some of the grit and lube. I hated the process, but I hated the drivetrain noise even more.
Enter White Lightning.
It’s a parrafin-based lube, and it’s been around forever. I don’t why I’ve ignored it (probably because I’ve been too cheap to buy it since I’ve got a perfectly good bottle of Cross Country at home), but last week, after the multi-flat disaster, I picked up a bottle at the shop. I was instantly impressed. It goes on easily, and cleans up with nothing more than a wipe of a rag. And while most folks say it’s not the best choice for wet conditions, it has performed admirably this week, keeping my drivetrain clean and quiet. Yes, I wipe down the chain every night and apply a new coat, but I was doing that anyway, without the same effect.
But this post isn’t about chain lube.
My bag has been wet for days. It’s not that the cargo has gotten wet, but the exterior has been damp, never really drying out from the day’s commutes. My shoes are the same. The bike has performed well, given the abuse. I removed the bottom bracket and cranks on Monday evening and applied a fresh coat of grease to all the threads, and that seemed to quiet the little creaks. I’m beginning to think I should sell the winter beater, as the Steamroller has proved its mettle in nasty conditions–perhaps just build up a set of “beater” wheels and call it good. Who needs two bikes anyway?
I thought perhaps I’d have a dry road home, but dark, dark clouds have been hanging just over the tree-tops all day. The roads are still dry, and that means there is still hope.
Posted on 19 May 2006
I received my copy of Bill Kauffman’s book, Look Homeward, America this weekend, and managed to get halfway through it between parties for Sebastien and a trip to the ER at Children’s Hospital (ruptured eardrum, yah!). Kauffman’s rollicking style is a pleasure to read. Kauffman sets out to examine reactionary radicals and front porch anarchists through American history, focusing his energy on folks like Eugene McCarthy, Patrick Moyihan, Dorothy Day, Grant Wood, and Wendell Berry (among others). Kauffman doesn’t shy away from imperfections, forgiving the occasional foray leftward (especially around the time of the New Deal). Kauffman isn’t out to (re-)discover a movement, or even a sensibility–he simply shares the stories of men and women who, in his opinion, embraced the community-oriented, decentralized way put forth by people like Thomas Jefferson as the vision of what American should be.
I’ll likely write a longer review when I’m through the book. I did find this morning, via Daniel Larison, that Kauffman and friends from ISI book and Reason, have a blog, Reactionary Radicals.
Posted on 15 May 2006
This is what I saw for nearly two hours yesterday afternoon:
The boy never stopped for a minute. The pace at which he picked up the whole bike riding thing was pretty amazing.
Posted on 13 May 2006
4:45PM: It’s been raining most of the day. I really don’t look forward to riding in the rain. It never stops me, but I’m filled with a feeling of impending doom, especially today, given that I’ve forgotten to put the mudguards on the bike (I realized this halfway across the 62nd Street Bridge this morning). I will be absolutely soaked by the time I get home. No matter. No sense fretting about the inevitable.
5:20PM: I always seem to ride better in the rain. I’ve been feeling a bit heavy in the legs this week, but the water tap-tapping on my helmet and splish-splashing on my feet distracts me. Riding through the Pine Creek Valley, I wonder aloud if we do indeed get rain for the next week if I’ll be able to ride to work by the start of next week. The creek is already swollen from today’s downpour, its brown water churning quickly over the rocks. Even over the din of the rain on my jacket, and the whir of tyres on wet pavement, I can hear the water crashing down next me.
5:30PM: As I pass the Chevy dealer in Etna, traffic forces me pick a poor line through a patch of large gravel on the road surface. My rear wheel catches a golf-ball-sized stone, and within ten meters I know what’s happened. I’ve flatted. This would be bad on any day, but today, after a flat earlier in the week took my last spare tube, it’s really bad. I will be walking the final two miles or so home. Normally I may be upset, but what’s the use? What good would that accomplish? Instead, I simply unfasten the chin strap of my helmet and begin my walk. A block later, Brad, another frequent alleycat organizer who also works north of the city at the Dirt Rag offices, pulls up next to me and offers a spare tube. I thank him profusely but decline, reasoning that the walk was superior fiddling with my recalcitrant rear tyre on the sidewalk in the rain. He nodded knowingly, and after our goodbyes he was on his way.
6:00PM: I hosing off my bike in the narrow corridor between our house and the neighbors. This is only the beginning of my work for the evening. I’ll be replacing the blown tube, cleaning the chain, and re-lubing the drivetrain. Given the forecast, I’ll be doing the latter task tomorrow night, and Monday night, and Tuesday night…
Posted on 11 May 2006