Birthday recently, got “a message from Dad on turning 50.” All about himself. First he told me there’s still much “fun” to be had because he himself travelled to 19 countries in his post-50 years (all on the family inheritance he stole from us kids). Then he whined about the boredom of the “been-there, done-that redundancy” of his travel binges and the “aches and pains” slowing him down. No awareness of the second American Revolution underway, or that there was ever a need for one.
I stopped trying to explain myself to him years ago, may as well spit in the wind. He’s a mean SOB, always was. He thinks because I don’t conspicuously consume I must be miserable and in need of his counsel: “buck up kid, I know you’re too poor to really live, as I have, but hey, if you save up and work hard…” [insert boomer meme here.] (inb4 “not all boomers”/ “also non-boomers”— no shade on our woke boomer frens, you survived the decimating social engineering that ruined many a lesser man, and yes, narcissism is the disease of our time, rampant in all demographics).
The pleasure-seeking soullessness of this particular brand of NPC consumerfag is a well known scourge to many of us here, however. So lacking in self- and situational-awareness it’s hard to comprehend—I mean, even animals care for their own young. But what used to depress and anger me now only makes me more grateful how blessed we are to have experienced meaningful purpose and brotherhood in the trenches. Each of us chose truth and justice over material reward, service over self-aggrandizement, and not one of us would take it back—just look what we’ve accomplished so far, wew lads!
The pathos packed into Dad’s message made my appreciation for Q team and POTUS deepen too. They nobly stepped up as The Good Father to a rash of disorganized latchkey kids, and made us a force to be reckoned with, forgotten no more. The cabal did quite a number on our peoples, down deep at the family level. How many of us are walking wounded in these foundational relationships? Some too trusting, some too suspicious, either way ripe for manipulation and division. What we do here is important on many fronts, but it goes a long way to healing this breach too: how to grow from carefree youth to wise elder. We who had to claw sense out of thin air on our own grit and desperation know its value, and won’t stop trying to get noobs to see it no matter how much they cry. We’re not called “boot camp for the mind” for nothin’.
As I wrote the following reply, it became clear it wasn’t really intended for my Dad—he’d never understand—but for you Anons, for this movement. Let my poor, misled father have the stock Hallmark reply, this one’s for you guys. It was you who taught me what it means to be a man.
Thanks Dad. I could die today and die happy. It’s not so much what I experienced—or have yet to experience—in the taking, but what I’ve had the chance to give. If you could understand the magnitude of the work I’m involved in now, of the history we’re making, I know you’d be proud. Wasn’t easy, many stumbles and sacrifices along the way, but they were necessary teachers, and I’m grateful for them. They earned me sight in a time of blindness, and conviction in a time of apathy. I’m not perfect, but I’m who I always hoped I’d become where it counts. As reward, I lived to see the day the tide turned in the battle of Good vs. Evil and will die knowing I didn’t just watch, I played. I played hard and I played smart. Plenty of pluck left in me yet—and I intend to keep fighting until God taps me out—but I’m beat up and tired too. As honored as I’ve been to be trusted with this burden, I’ll be glad to lay it down.
Turns out, with a satisfied mind inside your head, you hardly notice the gray on top of it. As to the aches and pains, they won’t be following me to the grave either. The only thing that does is knowing the right actions you took, and the good they brought, will outlive you by a thousand years. On that I’m at peace.
These are my thoughts on turning 50.