Colonialism rant

The crowning achievement of colonialism is how it has tapped into the human genome to recycle itself. The finely woven threads, the self-repairing structures of racism and sexism, fear of the other, the urge to destroy that which is experienced as diseased and loathsome, they all belong to colonialism, which I am now going to conflate with the human tendency to devalue other human beings based on feelings of disgust rather than facts. Now science brings us the truth behind the experience of conservatism, that it is based in physical disgust.

This disgust results in things as various as the relentless offering of young men to death in warfare, and old men fighting against young women guarding their fertility as they see fit in consequence. Generation after generation of old powerful men, in whatever culture and of whatever colour, offer young men into the maw of war and conquest, having dragged them from their parents’ arms and essentially from the mother’s womb. Kind people on the sidelines weep with loss as this happens generation after generation.

I have been struggling all my life with this fundamental flaw in human nature, the place where the sociability of human beings, which is quite remarkable, breaks down. Now I see it. It is in the rock-crusher of our capacity to feel deep, emotional, physical disgust that we are broken into pieces and fed into colonialism. It seems circular, and it is. There is a constant value, circulating in the human genome, of persons who feel disgust more readily, inbuilt and coiled in every cell. They will, being of a certain neurotype, congregate, and then they will amass resources and make of their disgust a common, noble reason to make war on anybody on the outside of the group.

Jesus God.


Slept away from home last night; Mike was really late getting out of work for our celebratory “You had an interview!” dinner and we picked up some beer and went back to his place.  About 9 I pumpkined out on the couch… and slept straight through until 6 am this morning, which I haven’t done in yonks. (I only had two beers, for those attempting censoriousness).

Mike fed me coffee with vanilla ice cream, and carrot cake marmalade courtesy of Cassidy, and toast.  We drank coffee on the balcony and watched the morning sun wash over the landscape, which was chilly but most pleasant.

I light a candle for a friend whose mother has just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  I feel for her.  The 5 year survival rate is crappy.  Heavy heart.