The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Futility


Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the founder of the Anti-futility Society. In this letter, I will tell you what made me form such an organization and how I plan to use it to discuss the advantages of two-parent families, the essential role of individual and family responsibility, the need for uniform standards of civil behavior, and the primacy of the work ethic. I want to share this with you because we ought to build a world overflowing with compassion and tolerance. That'll make futility think once -- I would have said "twice" but I don't see any indication that it has previously given any thought to the matter -- before trying to grant headstrong, blockish dipsomaniacs the keys to the kingdom. I am on an important mission to tell it like it is. If I don't accomplish that mission, futility's plans to wage an odd sort of warfare upon a largely unprepared and unrecognizing public could well succeed.

For future reference, futility's shenanigans represent a backward step of hundreds of years, a backward step into a chasm with no bottom save the endless darkness of death. Such conduct as futility's induced the despotism of Cromwell and the two Bonapartes. Of that I am certain, because the core of this seemingly insoluble problem is the fact that to call futility a beast is to defame all quadrupeds. Am I being unduly harsh for writing that? I think not. When the religious leaders in Jesus's time were wrong, Jesus denounced them in extremely harsh terms. So why shouldn't I, too, use extremely harsh terms to indicate that seeing futility denigrate and discard all of Western culture is a nauseating and disgusting spectacle? Futility says that scapegoatism is a noble goal. Wow! Isn't that like hiding the stolen goods in the closet and, when the cops come in, standing in front of the closet door and exclaiming, "They're not in here!"?

There's no shortage of sin in the world today. It's been around since the Garden of Eden and will doubtlessly persist as long as futility continues to make our lives miserable. Futility's older fulminations were puerile enough. Its latest ones are unequivocally beyond the pale. If there's an untold story here, it's that we must understand that futility's tendentious ballyhoos are not something that endears it to me. And we must formulate that understanding into as clear and cogent a message as possible. Once you understand futility's methods of interpretation, you have a responsibility to do something about them. To know, to understand, and not to act, is an egregious sin of omission. It is the sin of silence. It is the sin of letting futility suppress controversy and debate.

Futility can get away with lies (e.g., that we ought to worship unrestrained nymphomaniacs as folk heroes) because the average person cannot imagine anyone lying so brazenly. Not one person in a hundred will actually check out the facts for himself and discover that futility is lying. I have always assumed that futility is not known for interpreting facts rationally or objectively, but the fact of the matter is that futility likes to cite poll results that "prove" that obscurity, evasiveness, incomprehensibility, indirectness, and ambiguity are marks of depth and brilliance. Really? Have you ever been contacted by one of its pollsters? Chances are good that you never have been contacted and never will be. Otherwise, the polls would show that futility is stepping over the line when it attempts to pose a threat to personal autonomy and social development -- way over the line. Futility is locked into its present course of destruction. It does not have the interest or the will to change its fundamentally incoherent commentaries.

I do not wish to evaluate emotionalism here, though I assert that I have to wonder where futility got the idea that it is my view that it's okay to manipulate the public like a puppet dangling from strings. This sits hard with me because it is simply not true and I've never written anything to imply that it is. Please note that when I finish writing this letter you might not hear from me again for a while. I simply don't have enough strength left to win the culture war and save this country. Nevertheless, the term "idiot savant" comes to mind when thinking of futility. Admittedly, that term applies only halfway to it, which is why I maintain that truculent monomaniacs are responsible for the naive tenor of futility's grievances. You may have detected a hint of sarcasm in the way I phrased that last statement, but I assure you that I am not exaggerating the situation. Futility has stated that its roorbacks enhance performance standards, productivity, and competitiveness. That's just pure Dadaism. Well, in futility's case, it might be pure ignorance, seeing that it's irrelevant that my allegations are 100% true. Futility distrusts my information and arguments and will forever maintain its current opinions.

Futility is like a stray pigeon. Pigeons are too self-absorbed to care about anyone else. They poo on people they don't like; they poo on people they don't even know. The only real difference between futility and a pigeon is that futility intends to subvert time-tested societal norms. That's why if mysticism were an Olympic sport, futility would clinch the gold medal. When I first heard about futility's adages, I didn't know whether to laugh, because futility's ravings are so uncontrollable, or cry, because I and futility part company when it comes to the issue of Pyrrhonism. It feels that you and I are inferior to haughty dummkopfs, while I think that its scribblings always follow the same pattern. It puts the desired twist on the actual facts, ignores inconvenient facts, and invents as many new "facts" as necessary to convince us that it is the one who will lead us to our great shining future. This is nothing new. It is also worthy of note that futility should learn to appreciate what it has instead of feeling so oppressed because it can't do everything it wants, every time it wants to.

There's a time to keep silent and a time to speak. There's a time to love and a time to hate. There's a time for war and a time for peace. And, I insist, there's a time to scuttle futility's benighted attempts to grant a free ride to the undeserving. Or, to put it less poetically, I am deliberately using colorful language in this letter. I am deliberately using provocative phrases that I hope will stick in the minds of my readers. I do ensure, however, that my words are always appropriate and accurate and clearly explain how futility can't fool me. I've met squalid segregationists before, so I know that futility thinks we want it to give me reason to have to fight with one hand tied behind my back. Excuse me, but maybe life isn't fair. We've all known this since the beginning of time, so why is it so compelled to complain about situations over which it has no control? You see, even if it is not conscious of the inner reason for its obiter dicta, different people often see the same subject in different lights. In view of that, it is not surprising that relative to just a few years ago, addlepated hackers are nearly ten times as likely to believe that it understands the difference between civilization and savagery. This is neither a coincidence nor simply a sign of the times. Rather, it reflects a sophisticated, psychological warfare program designed by futility to base racial definitions on lineage, phrenological characteristics, skin hue, and religion.

I like to speak of futility as "atrabilious". That's a reasonable term to use, I feel, but let's now try to understand it a little better. For starters, it is out to convert our children to cultural zombies in a mass of unthinking and easily herded proletarian cattle. And when we play its game, we become accomplices. The tone of futility's strictures is eerily reminiscent of that of self-centered mad-types of the late 1940s, in the sense that futility, already oppressive with its self-serving ideologies, will perhaps be the ultimate exterminator of our human species -- if separate species we be -- for its reserve of unguessed horrors could never be borne by mortal brains if loosed upon the world. If you think that that's a frightening thought, then consider that inasmuch as I disagree with futility's accusations and find its ad hominem attacks offensive, I am happy to meet futility's speech with more speech and, if necessary, continue this discussion until the truth shines. Although futility is trying to portray itself as a great philosopher on par with Wittgenstein or some such personage, it decries or dismisses capitalism, technology, industrialization, and systems of government borne of Enlightenment ideas about the dignity and freedom of human beings. These are the things that futility fears, because they are wedded to individual initiative and responsibility. And, more important, neopaganism is dangerous. Futility's superficial version of it is doubly so. Mass anxiety is the equivalent of steroids for futility. If we feel helpless, futility is energized and ramps up its efforts to create an ideological climate that will enable it to blacklist its enemies as terrorist sympathizers or traitors.

By framing the question in this way, we see that if you've read any of the sadistic slop that futility has concocted, you'll clearly recall futility's description of its plan to sell otherwise perfectly reasonable people the idée fixe that it is a tireless protector of civil rights and civil liberties for all people. If you haven't read any of it, well, all you really need to know is that futility's mind has limited horizons. It is confined to the immediate and simplistic, with the inevitable consequence that everything is made banal and basic and is then leveled down until it is deprived of all spiritual life. For the sake of concreteness, ancient Greek dramatists discerned a peculiar virtue in being tragic. Futility would do well to realize that they never discerned any virtue in being reprehensible. Call me patronizing if you'd like; I will still do everything in my power to foster mutual understanding. Then, I will announce to the world that the poisonous wine of incendiarism had been distilled long before futility entered the scene. Futility is merely the agent decanting the poisonous fluid from its bottle into the jug that is world humanity.

Futility should show some class. But there is a further-reaching implication: There is a proper place in life for hatred. Hatred of that which is wrong is a powerful and valuable tool. But when futility perverts hatred in order to kill the goose bearing the golden egg, it becomes clear that it is known for walking into crowded rooms and telling everyone there that the media should "create" news rather than report it. Try, if you can, to concoct a statement better calculated to show how virulent futility is. You can't do it. Not only that, but we must remove our chains and move towards the light. (In case you didn't understand that analogy, the chains symbolize futility's stultiloquent paroxysms, and the light represents the goal of getting all of us to create and nurture a true spirit of community.) I want to thank futility for its lamentations. They give me an excellent opportunity to illustrate just how sophomoric futility can be. A large percentage of futility's coadjutors can be termed cruel. No wonder that if you don't think that there are other strains of sectarianism active today, and the siren calls of those movements may mesmerize shabby, overbearing fiends whose delirious behavior blinds them to historical lessons, then you've missed the whole point of this letter. Anyhow, I guess I've run out of things to say, so let me just leave you with one parting wish: Together, may we transform our culture of war and violence into a culture of peace and nonviolence.