When it comes to a young person joining the circus, I believe that the clichéd story line goes something like this:
In a quaint Midwestern rural town, a circus arrives and it is filled with exotic albeit highly damaged, rootless creatures. However they have an air about them, flair for the dramatic, showmanship, and a vague pathos.
A young man shows up and becomes so intrigued that he joins up such as to discover that he is an asset to such a company, because he is capable of rising to the occasion in terms of hard word, accountability, and responsibility. In exchange for his efforts, he gets to partake of some exotic experiences with persons who turn out to be empty, damaged, and with arrested development to perhaps include an alarming fixation on children.
In so many ways, I was that young man, and still am, largely due to the decisions of my parents, and their parents, and the worlds in which they lived. Specifically, I grew up in my own family circus, not to be confused with the comic strip of that name. I have no hometown or definitive culture to draw on but rather was born a chameleon and an “actress” on orders from my family. It therefore was an effort toward a state of stability that I took up with persons who made even less effort to appear “stable” than my family did.
As a woman, I have no business promoting myself as some sort of paragon of anything. Most of my life lessons came the hard way and at a great price. I therefore, take great efforts not to misrepresent myself in my writing or to appeal to children.
The circus fulfills two major purposes within a small community:
- Provides diversion, entertainment, and even, perhaps an opportunity for education.
- Draws off the unprotected children of a community such as to give them some sense of purpose not otherwise granted them.
However, the circus fails when it destroys its own host culture such as to become too large for either to support itself. Bringing in a third element, such as a hoard of savages, will probably serve to reduce all populations.
Michael Rupert, before he committed suicide, asserted that our masters would be engaged in the process of extreme population reduction. Meanwhile, it is also clear that many of these creatures are engaged in the process of extreme life extension for themselves because they believe themselves to be gods, when what they are is vampires.
One of the reasons that tobacco has made itself into a spiritual anchor for me is that I am aware that it is a modern, first stage, vampire repellent. For good measure, I also partake of plenty of garlic. At some point, perhaps, I’ll start wearing a cross, and carrying a wooden stake.
I am less concerned with the dangers of live circuses than I am with television, the Leftist echo chamber, and parades of damaged persons purporting to define sexuality for the most vulnerable populations.
It is unfortunate that so many longstanding cultural institutions on The Right are themselves so damaged and shaped by vampires of history that they don’t recognize their own contribution to the inflated Leftist circus. That said, protecting one’s own children ought to be one’s first priority.
I’m exempt from that responsibility. Rather, if I had a garden, I would be planting Peppermint, Licorice, Fennugreek, Black Cohosh, Pennyroyal, Tobacco, Wormwood, and Garlic, surrounded by a fence topped with razor wire.