Waltzing
We (in the sense of, “I”) have returned to the High Doganate after our adventures in Civitas Silva, Idlerton, and Birr. The most extravagant of these adventures was in Birr, for it contains a fairly Catholic and substantial used bookshop named “Cardinal Books,” whose proprietor has only one wife, and nine children — all of them acquiring the bibliographical arts, which may be of great utility in the future. Or may not, we’ll see. His name is Philip Prins (or, “Cardinal Prins” as we’re apt to call him) and I recommend his services without qualification for all your book-purchasing needs, by mail or otherwise. And I do not say this in the hope of getting discounts, for I am incorruptible.
The (very) small town of Idlerton, nearby, is notable for an excellent steakhouse and pub, with modest, pretty waitresses. Oddly, the painter who inscribed the sign at the entrance to this (medium-sized) hamlet made a spelling error, “Ilderton,” which seems to have been repeated on the maps.
A more egregious error was made on the signs for Civitas Silva, or “Forest City” for those Novus Ordo types who prefer English, and are willing to confuse it with Cleveland, Ohio. The inhabitants persist in calling it “London,” however — a town which is actually more than three thousand nautical miles away. My parents lived there for a score of years (after I left home), and several good buddies still live in and around. Indeed, they have formed a secret society, called the Wrinklings, brother to the venerable Borborygmatic Society of Greater Parkdale, also known as the Old Farts Club, or in reference to contemporary political correctness, as the Gentleman Commissioners of Crimes Against Humanity. As I say, these are secret societies, which may contain tobacco smokers, so please never mention them, gentle reader.
It is necessary to form such societies for mutual linguistic aid and protection, the identification of good books, the discussion of poetry, art, music, philosophy, and other subversive activities. Too, they help to organize a “third force” within our postmodern conurbations, in addition to the silent majority of sterile, godless, bourgeois people, and the growing minority of criminals, drug addicts, and the openly insane. Normally, I’m against any sort of “third way,” but there are times when neither of two clear alternatives is quite acceptable.
Indeed (that makes this a two-indeed Idlepost, three if we count this parenthesis), I have sometimes proposed the foundation of a “Christian Party,” to intrude between existing “progressive-conservative” and “liberal-progressive” parties, for the purpose of losing elections. It would run on an unapologetically reactionary platform, of consistent backwardness. We would be for disassembling everything the other parties have assembled — and thereby restoring Western Civ.
On the positive side, we would advocate the replacement of our reflexive atheistic populism with authentic theocracy. It would be a responsible party, of course, for we would replace any necessary social services, beyond the means of local voluntary efforts, with the eleemosynary agencies of the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. (With tithing to replace the income tax, and assist in the restoration of the monasteries.)
And it would be forward-thinking, for we’d be preparing what to do when each hollow shell of a “democracy” finishes collapsing.
I have already proposed a slogan for the USA: “Make America Christian Again.” For Canada I suggest: “Back to Champlain.” In England, perhaps: “Three Acres and a Cow.”
Strictly non-violent, except during formal Crusades.