Smart guys. A 21st century venue for the 19th century coffee house. The Pfuture of Pfizer.
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One of the pleasures of Substack is that so many incredibly intelligent people are using it as an outlet for their writing. They take great pleasure in running their own show, beholden only to their readers who pay them directly. These are our equivalent of the gathering points of 19th century genius, the London coffee houses.
A glance at my CV should convince you that I'm no dummy, but these guys are smarter. One measure of smart people is that they are generally very jealous of their time. They do not let lesser intellects waste it.
The true geniuses in the business world, among whom I would count Larry Ellison and Steve Jobs, have reputations as being difficult to work with. People put up with them because just being in their aura is energizing. It is also however enervating. They burn through people quickly.
Most of the writers whom I admire don't depend on others. They are immensely productive on their own and mostly do not want to be encumbered by working with other people. The likely exceptions are people who ran large organizations before being forced out because they stood up for the truth, such as Robert Malone, Steve Kirsch and Peter McCullough. Others probably help them write their posts.
All are prodigiously productive. Those in this elite group know and often refer to one another. The alliances are among people of comparable brilliance and productivity. A Robert Malone will reference a Peter McCullough, who will reference an Eugyppius, who will reference Matthew Crawford, who will reference bad cattitude. Every time I name them the list changes, but today Jessica Rose and Toby Rogers are also at the top of my mind. Ed Dutton and John Derbyshire write on Unz.
Some of these people know who I am, but I don't get references from them. I don't feel rejected. I am simply grateful that they have found a medium through which they can share their genius. They may find me an interesting character – learning my 7th language and raising three young kids in a war zone in my 80th year – but not in their league. The thought that nags me concerning all of them is whether their devotion to spreading the truths they see keeps them from having families and participating in community.
I admire Malone all the more because, on the side, he leads a normal life. Grandchildren, a farm, and a wide circle of friends. Toby Rogers recently shared his rather different story. Medical conditions force him to lead a constrained life, a life of the mind. Substack is his outlet.
My genius of the day is the aforementioned bad cattitude, AKA el gato malo, AKA boriquagato. Aside from frequent beautiful photos of his chosen home, Puerto Rico, and endless clever pictures of cats he doesn't reveal much of his private life. One gathers that he is a graduate of a top East Coast school - Brown? Williams? - and has worked in a number of different fields, including statistics. He has the freedom to dedicate himself to interesting ideas, which he does brilliantly.
In his piece two days ago he absolutely dismantled a post by the World Economic Forum that made the preposterous claim that global warming could turn Earth into something like Venus. He knows the nature of Venus and even its geological history very well. He also knows what simply cannot be known and it is silly to speculate about. That's the WEF error. I have reviewed enough books on the paleohistory of the earth to recognize an authority when I read one.
I remember when el gato male made this prognostication a couple of years back:
“masks are going to get mandated all over because it’s the low energy performative pathway to end/moderate hard lockdowns which are just too damaging while still looking like you’re doing something dramatic and making frightened people feel looked after.”
Now, with all of the requisite aw shucks disclaimers, he is prognosticating the future of the whole cast of characters in the Covid charade: the pharmaceutical companies, their feckless executives, the politicians who implemented the draconian and nonetheless useless interventions, the scientists who created the monster in their labs, the doctors who followed the money rather than the Hippocratic oath, and the people who have been badly damaged by the vaccines. It's a long article. An absolute tour de force entitled Pfossible Pfizer Pfutures – and the Regulators Too.
Futurists are always wrong in part, but this intelligent speculation is as good as any other you will find, and it is wittily written besides. If you can handle the "why didn't I think of that?" reflection and being in the virtual presence of somebody who puts you in the shade, give it a shot.
Other people invest more in plain hard work. Michelle Malkin is bright enough and incredibly industrious. She found it impossible not to comment on the Justin and Hailey Bieber vaccine injuries unfortunate coincidences. In doing so she coined a phrase that defines our times: “Misinformation” is information they want you to miss. “Disinformation” is truth they dismiss.
Those are the musings from Lake WeBeGone, where the strong menfolk have their work cut out for them today, shopping and setting up for the big Toastmasters picnic at our house tomorrow. The good-looking woman relishes the chance to participate once more, as she did before children 2 and 3 came along. And the little girls, though they aren’t aware of it yet, will love having men around to charm.