A Shaft of Light in the Darkness — An EOY ‘25 Postscript

 

The Blue Pill speaks.

I did something unconscionable on the last day of 2025. I posted End of Year Thoughts for 2025 at the conclusion of the first turbulent Year of Trump 2.0 and barely mentioned Trump. The post was over 12,000 words long and linked four directly related posts by name that totaled another 12,000 words. I must have rocks in my head.

As I expected, it hasn’t drawn much traffic yet. I even took the unusual step for me of posting a promotional reel for my own post, which is also off to a modest start.

23 views, as compared to my most popular reel this 
month, which got 30,000 hits making fun of Tim Walz. 

I’m not even disappointed. It’s the holiday season and social network traffic is down across the board. As I said when I posted it in the 31st, I wrote it because I had to. Nobody has to read it because I want them to. I’d have left it there to find its own way in its own good time, except that as I have experienced fsr more frequently than the laws of coincidence would seem to allow, that if you are asking a question that matters to you, the universe will provide an answer (or several) as if by chance. I have experienced enough of these confluences to coin my own term for them, Serendicity, which is a portmanteau word melding serendipity with Carl Jung’s synchronicity. Which is how I interpret the following happenstance from this morning…

Having explored the ‘Submerged Tenth’ known as the app Threads fairly often of late, I get these notifications from them on an irregular basis. They’re labeled disingenuously as “For You” or “might be of interest to you.” They’re almost always screeds hating Trump for his latest inflammatory post at Truth Social. They’re often hard to track down because of Thread’s intricate lack of design, and I often pass them by or give up looking for quickly. This morning I got lucky though. The notification led almost directly to a comment by this fellow:


No, he doesn’t look like he’s planning to take a potshot at Erica Kirk or the President. Looks like a younger, slightly balder version of me sitting there communing with his dog. I even have a friend from my childhood and youth named Will, with whom I had some grand times in my motorhead years. We no longer speak, and there’s some animus on his side, but less so on mine. How could he have anything to say that would prompt me to devote a post at IPR about his Thread comment? Well, here’s our exchange, all of it. 


His initial post was a perfect summary of topics I covered in detail in my End of Year post, his list proved I had picked the right things to talk about. His damning reference to religion was the perfect setup for my discussion of the enormous costs and dangers of atheism. His reply is the perfect demonstration of the temptations of unconsciousness as an escape from the responsibilities of thinking. Leave the thinking and the future to the experts and to hell with the disreputable change agents who ask more of me than I have the wherewithal to deal with. He’s the Matrix character named Cypher who betrayed Neo and the Resistance against the Matrix.


While I have been putting this post together, I have received at least three likes already about my replies to Mr. Steckles. They look like this when they do their pop-up thing.

I left the nastygram because they come through like clockwork too.

My takeaway? The universe letting me know, since I had the cheek to ask, why I felt compelled to write down something not a lot of people would read here in a Blogger format. It’s long been a precept of mine, assimilated from some elder statesman of wordsmithing: ‘Writing is thinking. If you haven’t accepted the discipline of putting your notions into a coherently written whole on some topic, you haven’t really thought it through.’ (Single quotes for best remembered version of the original.)

Excuse me. This one just came in while I was writing that paragraph…

The Scotty is Buster, gone to his reward but not forgotten.

The deep problem facing us is impaired consciousness. The problem in our population has grown steadily worse without the “experts” deigning to notice or study the phenomenon. AI will make that condition worse because it works so hard to look conscious and intelligent, but it is neither. The decisions it winds up making for us will be literally inhuman, because the software is disqualified from the outset. It cannot apply imagination, foresight, or ant of the complex inputs provided by a living physical body, including seeing, hearing, tasting, touching, moving, and feeling. It’s just a two character alphabet encoding instructions for digital operations imitating human thought. It is no replacement for the human mind, the human soul, or the creative manifestations of God, however you perceive Him.

If the proposition intrigues you, my magnum opus post is here at IPR. I know I should have published more books on Kindle, but my own computer situation is compromised now. I’m in deficit about half a dozen books by now. I promise you I am thinking about it. 

NOTE: For those who never saw The Matrix, here is a description of the movie’s “pill” thing, compiled (fittingly) by Google’s AI drone:







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