Monthly Archives: August 2022

Thinking the Unthinkable

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When a dictatorship is in trouble, ten to one that it will seek a way out in the form of war. Judging by China’s increasingly bellicose behavior in respect to Taiwan over the last few weeks, its dictatorship—and, yes, a dictatorship it is—ten to one that it is in deep trouble indeed. Consider:

  • After decades of sustained economic growth during which per capita GDP increased seventyfold, the point seems to have been reached where the formulae first put into place by Deng Xiaoping during the 1980s no longer work. In particular, as President Xi Jinpin himself is well aware, the gap between rich and poor has grown to the point where it threatens the stability of the regime—as it has done many times in the past. New methods are urgently needed. However, so far there is no sign that they are being discovered, let alone implemented.
  • In many places all over China, unbridled industrialization over the last four decades has resulted in ecological disasters without parallels in Chinese, and perhaps human, history. Unbreathable air. Undrinkable water. Vast quantities of poisonous materials seeping into the ground and reducing or eliminating its fertility.
  • China’s decades-long policy of one child per family has long led to a situation whereby fewer and fewer young people have to support more and more elderly ones, forming a major brake on productivity. So far, attempts to remedy the situation by relaxing some controls do not seem to be working.
  • By the best available evidence Corona originated in China. Next, its spread was encouraged by the Government’s reluctance to allow neutral observers to investigate the disease and do what had to be done. Combined with Beijing’s bullying behavior towards its smaller neighbors, this has caused its international credibility to suffer.

These are but a few of the challenges with which the Chinese Communist—in fact it is anything but Communist—Party has to cope. Whether or not they will actually drive the country to war over Taiwan is anyone’s guess; however, it is possible to say a few words about what such a war may look like.

  •  As so often in the past, the war will be preceded by a period of intensified wireless activity, mobilization, troop movements, news-blackouts, etc.  In theory these and many other preparatory measures should be easily detected by the intelligence services of Taiwan and its allies (primarily South Korea, Japan, and of course the USA). But whether they will be detected, let alone believed and acted upon, is another matter altogether. Think of the German offensive against the USSR, think of the Japanese one against Pearl Harbor. In both cases plenty of warnings were available right under the intelligence services’ noses; yet when they came they did so as complete surprises.
  • As so often since 1939, any Chinese offensive is certain to start in the air with attacks on Taiwan’s headquarters, communication- and transportation centers, anti-aircraft defenses, airfields and missile bases. Taking into account numbers alone, the People’s Liberation Army should be able to win these early combat operations. But then numbers are not everything; Taiwan’s defenses are up to date and well trained. From what one reads it appears they are also prepared to fight.
  • The next stage will be fought primarily at sea. Early on the initiative will be in the hands of the Chinese Navy as it tries to blockade Taiwan and soften it up in preparation of the coming invasion. Taiwan, however, has it own anti-submarine forces and is certain to use them in a determined attempt to resist the aggressor and keep its lines of communication open.
  • Suppose which is by no means certain, that at this stage the PLA can prevail. In that case it will surely use its ships to mount a large scale invasion. That, however, does not mean its problems will be over and victory, automatic. As history shows, sea- to land operations are about the most difficult of all and require a high degree of expertise which the PLA, for lack of experience, does not have. The seas around Taiwan are choppy with strong tides and, during certain seasons, torrential rains; not for noting are they known as The Black Ditch. The coast itself is rockyand hard to navigate. Thus an invasion may fail before it even gets properly started—as twice happened to the Mongols when they tried to invade Japan in 1271 and 1284 and also, to use he most famous example of all, to the Spanish Armada in 1588.
  • A coup de main intended to win a war with a single blow may succeed. Or else, as Putin’s initial invasion of Ukraine showed once again, it may fail. In case it succeeds, little else will remain to be said. In case it fails, a prolonged campaign to break Taiwan’s by no means negligible land forces and subdue the island will ensue. The outcome of such a campaign will depend very largely on the joker on the pack, meaning the US and in particular, its navy. To avoid being trapped in the Strait, the US 7th fleet, which is based  in Japan, will be deployed not west of Taiwan, as  laymen might think, but to the east of it. From there it will send its aircraft in an attempt to stop the invaders either before they touch land or at a later point when it will be a question of keeping their supply lines open.

To sum up, the above difficulties notwithstanding a Chinese attempt to subdue  an isolated Taiwan would stand a reasonable, if by no means certain, expectation of success. However, launching it in the teeth of American military power, the greatest on earth, would be a very risky venture indeed. And this without even considering the ever-present threat of nuclear escalation, whether deliberate or accidental, which literally might bring about the end of he world.

Thinking the unthinkable, as 1960s-vintage strategists used to say.

Confessions of a Marine Corps Sensitivity Trainer

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This week someone sent me the following document, originally published at the end of 200I. Considered it too good miss, so I posted it as is without asking for permission. If anyone objects, I will be sorry. But of course I will take the stolen goods offline immediately:

By

Philip Gold

1973 was not a good year to be a Marine. Nam was over. Rebuilding hadn’t begun. And an awful lot of us, myself included, just wanted out. I opted for grad school. But on three occasions in those final months before returning to the halls of ivy, I almost left via the brig.

First came the Inspector Generals (IG) inspection. IGs are the guys they send out from D.C. to see if you’ve complied with the accumulated tonnage of orders, regulations, requirements and general odiosity from the Corps. Usually IGs were bearable, since the inspectors knew they would eventually go back to the operating forces and didn’t want to annoy their once and future comrades too badly. In fact, I wouldn’t have worried at all, except that I’d recently disposed of several hundred classified documents by shredding, and had inadvertently shredded the destruct roster as well, and had no way of accounting for anything.

Fortunately, I did have my master sergeant, aka “Top,” a gent whom nothing had bothered since the Korean War, not even getting invited to those up close and personal “tactical” atom bomb tests of the 1950s nor two subsequent Vietnam tours.

Inspection day dawned with visions of Portsmouth dancing in my head. I sent my scuzziest lance corporal out with a six-by (truck, to you) full of unauthorized gear, with orders to drive around the base until the inspection was over. He returned two weeks later and, when asked about the truck, replied, “You mean I had a truck with me?” But that’s another tale.

The IG team, “all friends of Top,” skipped the crypto vault and headed straight for my field radios: the old AN/PRC-25 backpack variety. You see, the telephone-style handset had a couple connectors inside. Upon sufficient bouncing about, they’d come loose, touch, and short out. So the Corps had issued a technical instruction to epoxy the connectors in place. Unfortunately, there was no epoxy in the supply system, and no one was allowed to spend the 89 cents or whatever on their own. So the IG team set to unscrewing mouthpieces. If you hadn’t epoxied the connectors, they wanted to know why you’d violated the order. If you had, they wanted to know where you got the glue.

Top offered to explain it all to them over a liquid lunch at the staff club. Apparently, he did. And I was safe … until getting stuck at the VIP table at the Camp Pendleton Passover Seder.

Now, as you can imagine, Jewish Marines weren’t all that common back then. Originally I had no intention of making the Seder, but the base Jewish chaplain importuned, and I figured the Reb, as the other chaplains called him (not always respectfully), had enough tsuris without hosting yet another unattended gala. As it turned out, a couple dozen folks blew in, including the base commanding general and the First Marine Division commanding general, and their ladies … two couples with even less desire to be there than I.

A few minutes into the pre-meal rituals, I noticed that the generals and their ladies were imitating everything I was doing, liturgically meaningful or not. So I started making up traditions. They kept copying. Why, they asked, are we doing it this way and everybody else is doing something different? Oh, I assured them, that’s the Ashkenazic custom. We’re going Sephardic. Up at the officiating table, the Reb was turning colors, red to yellow to green, and back again.

We came to the commemoration of the Ten Plagues. Usually, you either dip your finger in your wine glass as each Plague is named or you spoon a bit of wine onto your plate. I started us on finger-dips for two Plagues, then shifted to spoons for two more, then had them banging spoons on plates for two Plagues after that. At this point, they noticed the Reb choking on Plague No. 7 and realized what was going on. Fortunately, generals can never admit they’ve been snookered by lieutenants. That, or they were at least as dinky dau … and/or far more gracious … than I.

Probably just as well that it ended when it did. I was getting ready to walk them around the table for Plagues No. 8 through 10.

Several weeks later, I did have people walking around a table.

Back then, there was racial tension. Lots of racial tension. So the Marine Corps decided that everyone should have Human Relations (HumRel) instruction, 20 hours worth, spread over five mornings. Unfortunately, I was hanging around the battery office, looking for my early-release papers, when the quota for a HumRel trainer came in. So they shipped me off to a weeklong instructors’ course. I graduated first in the class, having gotten a 98 on the true-false test, and they sent me back to teach the gun bunnies what was to become known as sensitivity.

We had a text. Actually, an “Our American Values” quasi comic book. In the 1960s, most basic manuals had gone comic book, including the M-16 rifle disassembly and maintenance guide (Chapter One: “How to Strip Your Sweet 16”), but that’s another story. First four sessions, we sat around a conference table and reacted to the drawings and balloons.

“What do you think, Private Smith?”

“Dunno, sir.”

“What do you think, Corporal Jones?”

“Oh, I agree with Private Smith.”

Fridays were different. That’s when we discussed conditions at the local base, including self-segregation, interracial sex, dapping (elaborate black-power handshakes), et cetera. When we got to the dating stuff, the scrawniest brother at the table made a comment about white male sexual prowess, as explicit as it was uncomplimentary. The nearest Caucasian immediately reached over and began acquainting his head with the tabletop, and there ensued several minutes of mass violence and general bad manners.

Once was nasty enough. When it happened the second cycle, I figured there was a pattern emerging. So did my captain. So did my colonel. So did a general or two, who suggested via the chain of command that a bit more decorum, and no more incident reports that had to go to headquarters, might be nice. Especially if I wanted to avoid being held on active duty for the investigations, which might take forever. So Thursday evening before my final class, I called the area guard shack.

“This is Lieutenant Gold. I’ll be teaching sex education tomorrow and would like the reaction force standing by.”

Next morning, 20 or so Marines sat around the table, revving up. I announced the subject, then opened the door. In marched a dozen Marines in riot gear. They surrounded the table and made not a sound, save for a discreet tapping of their batons on the wall behind them.

We had a fascinating seminar, an open, genuine, and informative exchange of views. I subsequently spent 14 years as a college professor. Would that all my classes had been so … well received.

 

Foreshadowing the counter-revolution

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Starting today, I am running a series of dialogues with Larry Kummer – writer at and editor of the FabiusMaximus website. This format worked well in my book, The Gender Dialogues, conversations with a feminist. This is chapter one of a new dialog.

Although its origin is unknown, here a common example of young conservatives expressing Crimethink in their favorite medium:

MvC:

Schadenfreude is an ugly thing , but here we are.

LNK:

That nails it. A black lesbian female athlete is near the top of our social pyramid. Many young conservative men are unwilling to bow before the new order.

So far this is covert resistance. Perhaps we will get a William Tell moment, where someone refuses to genuflect before a Leftist totem. Now, as then, the price will be high.

MvC:

The revolt, when it takes place, will be ugly indeed. But they have been asking for it.

LNK:

The Left’s power has grown great, now encompassing most of the major instructions in America. Now its rate of growth is about to accelerate. For example, one of the next conversions is that of the Roman Catholic Church – that is, large elements of it (e.g., in America, Europe, and the HQ in Rome). Like all the other victories of the Left, the preliminary steps have been obvious – but the conclusion will still surprise people.

I predicted much of this, but did not foresee the two most amazing aspects. First, the Left’s fantastic rate of growth. I wrote this post two  years ago: The Left sweeps across America like a tsunami, or Rommel did France. Most reviewers said that it was too alarmist (back them most on the right responded to the Left’s wins with mockery or pearl-clutching). Today it looks prescient, but I underestimated the Left’s power.

Second, even more fantastic – despite the Left’s astonishing wins, there is as yet little organized opposition. As you said, we have passed all the exits leading to pleasant solutions. If there is a counter-revolution, which today seems unlikely, must be ugly if it is to have any odds of success.

 

 

You Have Been Warned!

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In Israel, and by no means only in Israel—see the recent shitstorm around Robert Kelly—the man-hunt is on. Not a day goes by that does not bring new stories about men who sexually harassed, attacked, abused, and, yes, raped. In every single case women, are presented as clueless victims. In every single case, asked to explain why they did not do something—such as slap their alleged attacker or at least get out of his way—the woman claims that he has “enslaved” them, “taken away their souls,” “brainwashed them,” “turned them into robots,” etc.

Strangest of all, the media do not try to expose these creatures for the miserable wretches they are. Instead they, the media, keep praising the “courage” with which, often flanked by entire armies of female psychologists, social workers, and lawyers, they turn on their alleged tormentors and denounce them. Following which, the man in question is finished when he is found guilty and also when he is not.

As a former professor who has had his troubles with  female students, and who has witnessed several of his male colleagues accused, put in front of a kangaroo court, and punished for alleged “sexual harassment,” I have some experience in the matter. So here is a list, admittedly a very incomplete one, of recommendations for other men to follow.

Never, ever, buy a woman a drink. That is because, if you do, she may later complain that you put something in it. Let them buy their own drinks (and yours as well, while she’s at it). If you are together and she wants to go to the restroom, make her take her drink with her.

Never, ever, give a woman a ride. Several of my acquaintances did so, only to have the woman in question try to blackmail them later on.

Make sure you never, ever, find yourself alone with a woman in an elevator. Not even one made of glass, as many nowadays are.

Remember good old St Thomas Aquinas? A man, he said, can do anything a woman can; but the opposite is not true. Rare indeed is the woman whose skills are such that she cannot be replaced by a man.  If, in spite of this, you have no choice but to hire a woman (if only because the law, in the name of “equal opportunity” and diversity” obliges you to do so), never ever speak to her in person or allow yourself to be alone in the same room with her. The best thing to do is to have her, of them, in separate room or rooms with a sign, “out of bounds for all male personnel” on them. Communication with the female employees to be solely by computer, which will record every word.

Don’t ever compliment a female employee and do not give her a dressing down. If you do either, there is a fair chance that she will turn it against you, either by claiming that you have tried to make her or by way of avenging herself on you for not accepting her advances. Prohibit your male employees from talking to their female fellow workers; instead, let all communication pass through an elderly female employee you feel you can trust. That incidentally, was the method many firms used before 1950 or so.

If you are a physician, or psychiatrist, or psychologist, or some other kind of psychotherapist, avoid treating women as much as you can. If again in the name of “equality,” you are forced to do so, make sure you take appropriate defensive measures. Such as having another woman (one you think you can trust) present, reordering everything on video, etc.

Ditto if you are a teacher, instructor, coach, physiotherapist, or a member of a similarly dangerous profession. 

If you must have sex, visit a prostitute. The last thing prostitutes want is trouble. As a result, they tend to more honest and less likely to go after you than most women are. Or else, better still, get yourself a sex doll. They are improving all the time. In any case, given all the cosmetic procedures women undergo these days, the distinction between them and sex dolls is steadly being eradicated.

If, in spite of everything, you are going to make love to a woman, have her sign a form first. The form should specify that she is doing what she does while in full possession of her faculties, without coercion and out of her own free will. To make sure, have her sign it in front of a notary. Better still have her sign two forms, one before, one after. But do not kid yourself. A woman can always claim that she signed under duress or else while drunk or otherwise mentally incapacitated (as, it seems, many women are most of the time). So the protection this measure affords is limited.

In case, which is quite possible, all these precautions are no avail and you are made to stand trial, the following measures may help a little:

Hire the best available female lawyer but only after you’ve checked, and checked again, that she can be trusted.

If there is to be a jury trial, have your lawyer make sure, as far as possible, that the jury is made up of young men and elderly women.

Have your female relatives and acquaintances sit in on the trial and show, at every opportunity, how unafraid of you they are and how much they love you.

If, which is very likely, you are convicted and sent to jail, forget your male pride. It will only land you into more trouble. Instead, use every opportunity to show how contrite you are, how much you regret your beastly actions and sympathize with your “victims”, and so on. Doing so is the only way to gain an early release or be put on parole.

Good luck.