By Don Hall

I am not a Native American person.

I mean, I can’t say that I know any and I have to assume that modern Native Americans are no longer much like those from Dances with Wolves but my perception of those hunters and gatherers of the pre-colonized North America is that they were truly ecological in their approach. Kill the deer and eat or use all the parts as a sign of respect and a noncommerce-based frugality. Utilize the entire buffalo to be seen as a virtuous steward of nature because it’s okay to kill the animal as long as you use the shit out of the last sinew and bone.

I respect that concept and when it comes to ideas, I used to be that guy who found a new, shiny worldview or ideology and, if I discovered things I liked about it, took the whole load down my throat and proselytized it as all zealots do. 

As a kid, I gravitated toward Christianity, the complete fear of Satanic backmasking, an overwhelming belief in the coming of killer bees from Africa, the inevitability of nuclear war, and a brief flirtation with Reagan conservatism. Thankfully, I grew out of this phase which I tend to see as the Epiphany Phase of my development where every new book, every new scientific theory, every self-help or religious idea was the idea, the approach to fully embrace.

When I finally got around to reading Atlas Shrugged, I was already defiantly liberal in my political leanings. I liked it—a little clunky, too much exposition. I did latch onto the idea of altruism being far more self-interested than those who preach it want us to know. There are too many examples of those on the Left creating performative activism designed to dictate rather than exemplify a sense of communal responsibility to easily ignore. The semi-fascist Objectivism, anti-liberal, John Galtism were things I left on the offal pile.

Likewise, the movie The Program is pretty awful. There is a line that stuck with me despite the hyper-masculinity of a tepid football movie: “A team only exists when every member of the team is aware of how every other member affects them.” I can’t even recall the plot or characters but I remember that idea. I do this with a lot of really shitty films which causes my wife to question my pedestrian taste.

I’m not a religious person (I used to be) but there are a host of really good lessons that can be gleaned from religion. “Do unto others as you’d have done unto you,” “Love thy neighbor,” “Ye shall not round the corners of your heads.” At this point in my life, I see most religious documents and dogma as self-help texts with simple rules for life. All of the intolerance and demands for obedience I just ignore.

I am a die-hard fan of both the Star Wars canon and Star Trek (all versions). I do not somehow take it all so seriously that I forget that they are fictional entertainment.

I’m not a feminist. Not because I don’t agree and support and try to put it into practice the best parts of feminism, but because the stridency of True Believers is a pain in the ass. Equal pay for equal work? No shit. Refusing to do a gender reveal party is just good taste but to refuse to placate your long-suffering mother-in-law because it might be another white boy? Gimme a fucking break. Lobbying for more stringent sexual harassment laws? All for it. Including manspreading, unwanted compliments, and the occasional off-color joke as punishable offenses? Might as well be the Catholic fucking Church with this nonsense.

I’m not an ally... to any cause. Allyship should be vocal and material support for the forward momentum of human rights. Unfortunately, one’s Ally Card gets revoked if one bothers to critically take a look at the overreach of Critical Race Theory, Intersectionality, and a refusal to to use an “X” in place of commonly used labels. 

Simply put, part of maturity is honing critical thinking skills to embrace the parts of dogma that work and discard the rest. This is not to say that I am fully mature (even at my ripe decaying age) but that my ability to cull through the bullshit and catch the diamonds is at least one area that I can declare is mature enough.

If you find yourself buying into a specific message, platform, academic theory, movement, or cause without weeding through the crap, you’re a zealot.

Zealots are, for the most part, morons. I know. I used to be one. Native American? Nope. Overzealous, self-righteous dipshit? Absolutely.