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by Reid Fitzsimons

José Felipe Alvergue, PhD (he/him) is a professor English and dept. chair at the Univ. of Wisconsin, Eau Claire. On April 1, 2025 he gained fleeting celebrity/notoriety when, walking on campus, he encountered a display table of the college Republican Club and overturned it. To the credit of the campus Provost, Dr. Alvergue was quickly placed on administrative leave pending further investigation: at this point it appears flipping over tables because they contain literature and ideas upsetting to a professor is not fully embraced by the university.

by Reid Fitzsimons

The preacher opens his mouth and out comes fury, like always. He doesn’t have to be a Christian preacher- other religions could do the same- but his sermon is filled with venom and righteousness. He talks about sinners (or perhaps infidels), and how they will be thrown into the eternal hellfire of damnation. God is angry, and He judges severely. Somehow the actual message of Jesus Christ isn’t mentioned because it’s not really important. What is important is manipulating and controlling susceptible people, those with whom the message of fire and brimstone resonates because they are convinced they are the chosen, the righteous ones, and that they are better than everyone else.

The enraged and violent approach to religion has waxed and waned throughout history, sometimes marginalized, but at other times the predominate cultural and political force. Insane Christianity had its moments and was the source of massive misery, wars, and genocide, but thankfully this approach involving righteous atrocities has pretty well faded away over the centuries, largely because it never was based on Jesus to begin with. And yes, the statement, “Kill them all and let God sort it out,” is historically accurate. Not to malign Islam, but unfortunately too many people who control things in Muslim areas pervert Islam for their own greed and power in modern times: kind of where Christianity was 500 years ago.

by Reid Fitzsimons (note this is a very long article of approx 5,300 words, the first 3,500 being mine and the remainder those of a then pro-life Jesse Jackson from 1977)

Around 45 years-ago I was visiting in-laws deep in Mississippi, this being in the waning days of what we call “Jim Crow.” The in-laws were relatively wealthy, as defined by being two million in debt due to ill-conceived business ventures. They had employees, many of them black, and I befriended a young black man about my age. We had been given an excess amount of pecans and I offered him a bag to take back to his family, which he appreciated. As he was walking away, one of the in-laws, a generation older than me, exclaimed “He’s stealing the pecans!” Knowing this could have an unfortunate outcome, I quickly explained I had given him the bag. The response, in a genteel Southern accent (me being a Yankee) was, “We don’t do that kind of thing down here.”

The political structure of Jim Crow was pretty typical of oppressive societies throughout history, meaning the oppressors needed the oppressed to maintain power. In Jim Crow, there was dangled before the white masses the perpetual threat of “nigras not knowing their place and being uppity.” This had broad and powerful appeal to many of the white masses, who from childhood had been taught that blacks were, simply, inferior. They- blacks- could be dutiful and affectionate pets and treated accordingly, but there was always the fear they would turn on their masters, and the whites holding the power knew how to exploit this fear: one can picture the ugly man, George Wallace, with his ugly promise of “...segregation forever!”

by Reid Fitzsimons

I’m fairly confident I made it through the years of adolescence and young adulthood with just the average amount of obnoxiousness, and that whatever stupidity I committed did did not include “gay bashing.” Perhaps I should be proud of this, but I’m not sure not being a jerk is deserving of pride. Then again, at the time (this being the 1970s) homosexuality wasn’t really The Thing: back then, if you wanted to garner attention and stick it to the MAN, radical hippie chic was more in vogue than “coming out.” Paradoxically, eventually the anti-establishment hippie radical largely became establishment, as did “coming out.”

That’s not to say there wasn’t “gay bashing". People I became friends with decades later admitted they said odious things to homosexuals, and came to regret their behavior. One was (at the time) a young pastor who, with like-minded idiot Christians, drove about the known homosexual areas of Dallas and hurled insults. He quickly realized there was nothing Christian about this activism and, besides being appalling, was counterproductive- the success of convincing a homosexual to say, "Yes, I will now become a heterosexual” upon hearing someone yell, “Queers are going to burn in hell” was about 0%. By the time I met this pastor he was perhaps the most sincere “walk the walk” Christian I ever knew, who dedicated his life to providing a home for abandoned and abused children in Honduras. He was very conservative, with beliefs that would make him an object of scorn among the diversity and inclusion crowd: his theology was God loves the sinner but not the sin, as compared to God loves the sinner and especially loves the sin, with carnal sins being extra sanctified. The latter is the theology of the progressive collection of pretend Christians, often referred to as “mainstream.” To them, self-gratification is the highest calling.

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by Reid Fitzsimons

Boston is city where the present, characterized culturally and politically by enormously wealthy progressive elitists, is completely at odds with its past: the birthplace of the idea and ideals of America along with the associated Revolution against the English empire, and traditional Protestant/Yankee concepts of hard work, self-discipline, and frugality; all ideas and standards disparaged and dismissed by the current power base.

A number of years ago I walked about downtown Boston taking in the historic sites and buildings, which included many old churches. Formerly the homes of Reformed and fairly dogmatic Christianity, many of these churches were festooned with “Everyone Is Welcome” signs and the color purple; purple I think at the time being the preferred color of virtue signalers, the “Look at me, I’m fabulous” class (purple has since been replaced by rainbows). The “Everyone Is Welcome” theme is maybe pleasing to some, but is nonsense because 1) there is no place in the temporal world where “everyone is welcome” and 2) by “everyone” what was really meant was certain preferred identity groupings, the demographic groups that made the privileged feel really good about themselves. I seriously doubt some guy wearing jackboots and a Swastika armband would have been welcome, and rightfully so: in your face cultural and political activism perhaps has a place, but not in places like churches, and this applies to all political spectrums.

It's unlikely that people who are vocal in their opposition to the tenets of the Unitarian Church would "fit in."

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by Reid Fitzsimons

“The boogeyman is hiding under your bed” is a way for older siblings to frighten their younger brothers or sisters. Of course, it is extremely unlikely there is boogeyman, but there is just enough basis to make it a possibility: in some cases creeps and perverts do exist who harm children. In our current political and cultural world the equivalent of the boogeyman is the white supremacist, proclaimed from the highest levels of government to be a real and present threat, a means to scare the heck out of a gullible electorate, and to coerce acquiescence to favored policies and prosecutions.

The Bogeyman Narrative

The actual white supremacist

The thing is, the term “white supremacist” is never really defined other than a loose association with people who stand up for what might be termed traditional American and Judeo-Chrisitan values. I suspect most people under 50 have never encountered an actual “white supremacist,” and then even rarely. Having spent some time in the waning days of Jim Crow in the deep South in the late 1970s, I did meet a handful of white people who truly fantasized they were of a superior race and loathed black people simply because they were black; they were an unimpressive lot.

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by Reid Fitzsimons

During much of the Presidential primary season in 2016 I was out of the country in a fairly remote area with little access to news. Upon my return in May, while on a layover at the Atlanta airport and their endless broadcasts of CNN, I learned that Trump has sewn up the Republican nomination. I admit I felt a little queasy the news: I didn’t really know that much about Trump and never watched that show with the tag-line “You’re Fired!,” but I had heard plenty from the establishment news media that he was somehow dangerous and clearly not their guy. In general the other Republican candidates fit the desired mold of being “reasonable,” willing to “cross the aisle” and work with Democrats. I did know Trump was a blowhard.

Donald Trump and Barack Obama post-election Nov. 2016

Over the summer Trump was officially nominated, as was Hillary Clinton (HRC) for the Democrats. The latter, who is a true sociopath, made it easier to vote for Trump despite my severe reservations. Perhaps due to increasing age and cynicism I avoided watching the conventions and speeches, but shortly before the election I was in a cheap motel room in Pensacola, FL, turned on the TV and found Trump at some campaign rally. I girded myself to listen to his shtick, fully expecting him to rant with spittle flying and bark like a seal, this being largely how he was portrayed by the establishment press. What I found instead was a pretty typical political speech with the usual promises of prosperity, jobs, strong military, etc. Part of his rhetoric involved “make America great again (MAGA).

by Reid Fitzsimons

Picture yourself 600 years ago in Europe. You are a prince, a feudal lord, part of the nobility and aristocracy, and GOD do you love it! The castle, the servants, the money and material wealth, the fear you instill in the peasantry: your omnipotence. On occasion you pillage, plunder, rape, and slaughter, but you’re not really troubled by it, because you are right with God. Sure, Jesus opposed everything you do, but no worry, you have an “in:” you can buy salvation from those who claim they can dispense it. A bag of gold or silver to the local bishop, and you’re good to go (to heaven, that is). This practice was called buying “indulgences.”

Back in the present, everything is pretty much the same. You are part of the wealthy elite, the aristocracy: perhaps a career politician, a corporate CEO, a high-level bureaucrat, college administrator, or media figure. Like your predecessors, you love the money and material wealth, the mansions, and the power and influence you wield. Hopefully you're not out slaughtering people, but you still pillage and plunder and steal from the peasantry, but in a more genteel way. You don’t care about God, but you do worship gods- your privilege, your wealth, and status above others; it’s what you live for, and will do anything to maintain. Maybe you’re not a complete sociopath and actually feel a little guilty, but you know you’re not going to change. So you created your own form of indulgences, and you call them Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, and the best thing is they don’t cost you anything. If you do lay out cash to buy indulgences, it’s with someone else’s money. To whom might you give other people’s money? To the modern day version of the corrupt establishment church- the profiteering elite of the race grievance industry.

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by Reid Fitzsimons

From 1986 to 2001 I worked for the NY State Office of Mental Retardation and Developmental Disabilities (OMRDD) as a medical practitioner (PA). This was at one of a number residential institutions scattered throughout NY, located in a fairly rural area as was common for such facilities. We had an in-house population of around 300, with people ranging from profoundly retarded requiring total care and often with severe medical co-morbidities, to mildly retarded, who were generally were able to talk, walk, and take care of their basic needs with supervision. It was a job to feel good about: society taking care of people who truly couldn’t take care of themselves.

With a few exceptions, the employees who interacted daily with our population were caring and competent, this being especially the direct care aides and the nurses; it can be a tough job, both physically and emotionally. Ultimately the facility was controlled by bureaucrats, and with all bureaucracies there were petty people lusting for petty power and involved in petty intrigue, but at the direct care level it wasn’t too hard to remain oblivious to such nonsense, at least for most of my time there.

The epitomic bureaucrat

Bureaucracies typically create their own jargon and euphemisms, which frequently change depending on the whims of rarely seen bureaucrats. When I first started in 1986 the people in our care were not called the historical name of “inmate,” nor were they called patients, but the designated word was “client.” I always thought this was a little silly because it implies a cognizant two-way relationship, but assumedly someone deemed it a humane, non-pejorative title, which was okay. Nevertheless. people with important positions felt compelled to change the wording, so over the years we used “individual we serve,” “service recipient,” “consumer,” and after I was gone I heard “colleague” was in vogue. To me the simple word “resident” would have been both accurate and polite, but it never entered the lexicon.

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by Reid Fitzsimons

We believe Lucy was born in a puppy mill and rescued by a group called Saving Saints Rescue of Flint, MI. There are vet documents from this group dated April 1, 2009 referring to her as being 1 ½ years old, which would put her being born in October, 2007. Eventually she was adopted by a family in Sydney, NY, who cared for her well, but it was a hectic household with two other larger Newfoundlands and a smaller dog; they realized Lucy wasn’t thriving and placed an ad looking for a new home. We adopted her in April 2012, and when we picked her up she didn’t hesitate to jump in our car, and the car became a “safe space” for her. Initially she was filled with anxiety, which included biting herself raw, and she was even aggressive (it would require a fair amount of puppy mill abuse and neglect to do this to one of the most loving breeds known). It took about 6 months to get her calmed down, and her life became centered around us and feeling secure.