I’ve listened to people rattle on about how wonderful Paris is, the “great city of lights” for years now, and I really thought I was missing something. Not allowing for a lack of being there to shape my opinions I felt I needed to give the place a chance to win me over even though I knew going in that France was a socialist country and that I’d likely be disappointed. My family is of the type that we can make something good out of anything, so a little video of our trip can be seen below as we hit the major tourist sites, Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle, the Louvre, the bridge of locks, and the Eiffel Tower and everything in between as we walked the entire length from the Eurostar train station all the way down to the tower. We didn’t do the tourist thing of riding in a taxi or a bus to get through the “quaint” neighborhoods with all their “great” personality to arrive at our destinations. We came to know the city through hard work—and boy did we get to see it up close. We did hire a bicycle cart to take us from the Eiffel Tower back up to Notre Dame because my wife had developed a massive blister on her foot and we wanted to get her back up to the Boulevard de Strasbourg for the heaviest part of the walk so not to risk being late for our train at the Gare du Nord. Given that little explanation, this is what our trip looked like getting to and leaving Paris.
But let me say this—Paris is a disaster. A city living off its past that has been destroyed by the chaos of kingdoms, religion, and now open border socialism. What I saw along just the Boulevard de Strasbourg was enough to convince me to shut down the city and start over, because they have a mess. It was more of a third world country than one of the premier capitals of the world—and their undisciplined immigration and loose lifestyles have eradicated the city of any nobility of character. The first sign of trouble came just a block from the train station where two men were arguing, one of them looked homeless. He had a large concrete block over his head threatening to throw it through a window while the other man cussed at him in French with great passion to put it down. We had to walk between them to get down the sidewalk and apparently, this goes on all the time because the other people with us on the crowded sidewalk were just going about their business. If that guy were doing something like that in the United States, somebody would have shot him, it’s that simple. The whole ordeal was just a hot mess representation of what a country with open borders and progressive socialism produces—anger, frustration, extreme poverty and dirty filth everywhere. But they do have diversity. There were immigrants from as far away as Sri Lanka to mass gatherings of Muslim Central Africans and associated cultures. Only an idiot would think that so many people without common beliefs packed on top of each other and prostitutes thrown into the mix was a good idea and evidence of a successful country. Prior to coming I had only heard about how wonderful the walk down the Boulevard de Strasbourg was. Well, those people must have been smoking crack, because it was among the worst that I’ve seen in any slum area in the United States—a defeated community failing by the day. And if it was that bad in the tourist area just think how terrible it would be just a few blocks in on both sides where the tourists don’t go. My thoughts were to give those people guns, let them fight it out and whoever wins, they would decide the nature of the community because as it is now, pickpockets, prostitutes and con artists are defining the nature of the city and that’s not a good thing.
After about six blocks of this things did improve as we came closer to the river Seine and armed police stood around everywhere with assault weapons ready to gun down any terrorist insurgents. Just two weeks’ prior an Islamic terrorist had assaulted people at the Lourve, which is one of the biggest tourist areas of Paris, so they weren’t taking any chances along the river which is the breadbasket of tourism for Paris. As long as we were near the river, I could see a glimpse of the Paris that people have been talking about. But it was like visiting a relative in the hospital whom you know is about to die. They are there talking to you and you reflect on their life while they are still speaking. But you can see the specter of death over their shoulders beckoning them to come hither. Paris was already dead, but the body of tourism just hadn’t yet cooled to show the menace to the drunken westerners looking to fill their illusions of the famous Moulin Rouge and the Hugo epic Les Misérables. It was a depressing situation far from the kind of optimism I’m used to in America.
As I said, we did get to visit our key sites and I couldn’t help but ponder the layers of mistakes. As beautiful as the old cathedrals like Notre Dame were, everything I could see was just piled up forms of socialism with the churches of the Middle Ages being the first to usher in the kind of collectivism that set Paris up for failure over a thousand years ago, I have read more about this stuff than most people would care to do in a lifetime and I was explaining a bit of it to my kids when were at the Sainte Chapelle because that is a perfect example of what’s wrong with Paris. In the lower chamber of Sainte Chapelle is a mini cathedral which represents our time on earth. On both sides of this room are tight spiral staircases which take you up and into the grand room above with large vaulted ceilings and stained glass enclosures 25 feet high. The spiral staircase represents death—or the birth canal into re-birth into heaven and this was the point of emphasis for the entire Middle Ages for which Paris was founded and the historic foundation visitors relish to this very day. I was happy to see it but I felt sad for all the suckers over the last thousand years who came to Sainte Chapelle after throwing their piss and shit out their windows into the streets below to worship in this truly magnificent place when the Greek and Romans had lived better 1000 and 2000 years earlier—and to think that what they were doing was cutting edge wonder—is just stupid. Paris was a city built on the back of the Vico cycle reverting back to the beginning to make the same mistakes all over again which were showing up just a short time later in 2017 where the culture had broken down to this scribbled mess of ancient religions which no longer spoke to the world due to their failure to update themselves to modern science.
Naturally a society so collectively based, and willing to throw away the here and now for the promise of everlasting life shown in the great cathedrals socialism became their new standard and that has led to the present despicable situation. On the way into Gare du Nord by train my wife and I marveled at the beautiful French countryside, but not in the way you might think. It looked much the way it had for many centuries, and hadn’t changed much. There were a lot of empty fields and very little industry. Then suddenly we were in Paris and then the frustrations of poverty were clear with all the defacing graffiti and long looks on the faces of the residents who have been poor all their lives and like the mythology of the Sainte Chapelle have retreated to religion to show them a light at the end of the tunnel. France had chosen poverty for its people and used environmental worship as just the latest religion to control the thoughts of their people into keeping their lives easily confined to the lower room metaphorically of the Sainte Chapelle where the average European has been for over 2000 years.
If France had adopted capitalism that countryside would have shown signs of more factories, nicer homes, and more commercial options like would be found in the United States—like an occasional Crackler Barrel for god’s sake. France and its socialist residents might come to the United States and balk at our unrepentant splendor of capitalism, of our big houses, cars and lifestyles where every few miles across the country are just about anything you could want and eat. And just like their past in Paris in forcing people into the Catholic religion and the cathedrals there to provide a state sponsored view of the everlasting, they haven’t improved. Sure they have a separation of church and state now, but not really. Instead of their religion being a Catholic one inherited from the Roman Empire that conquered them just a few years after the crucifixion of Christ they now have a progressive view of the world where any religion from any place can come and interact freely and without State regulations—which essentially allows every ethnic community to impose their version of Sainte Chapelle on everyone else. That terrorist who was shot recently at the Louvre threatening tourists with a knife is the same loser who for millennia before was beheading people for not following the rules of the cathedrals and adhering to the state sponsorship of the everlasting. Now the new religion is environmentalism and it is purposely keeping people poor so that they must look to the “State” for guidance which has created the deplorable situation along the Boulevard de Strasbourg. Sure women are “free” to walk around topless and earn as much money as a man. The men have been subverted into little shrimps of human flesh walking around in their cosmopolitan “skinny jeans” which obviously have shoved their genitals back up into them squeezing off their masculinity. And this has left nobody to challenge the failures of their vast socialism and the carcass of Paris which is cooling by the minute as rigor mortis is fast setting in.
Anyone who thinks Paris is a stunning city of “lights” is stuck in the distant past remembering the life that might have been from the vantage point of ignorance. It’s like remembering that abusive parent while they are on their death bed and the one time they bought you a nice snack somewhere, then beat you to a pulp because you used all their money in the act. Paris has committed suicide many years ago and has slowly been bleeding out all this time leaving us with a fine example of what not to do. Like all cities of socialism, it was a dirty place filled with crime leaving people desperate to make any money at all begging for it at every opportunity. Graffiti and crime are only the most obvious signs, but sex workers are the next layer. When people start selling sex in exchange for opportunity, that’s when you know you have a failing society and need to pass on some of those open green fields and build a few factories. Paris never had it right, not when they were conquered by the Romans, or settled by the Celts, or spent years at war with Spain and England pawning off their daughters for the promise of peace with a rival kingdom. Paris has always been a city of suppression even as women celebrate their nudity and their unshaved armpits as Madonna did for Playboy in the eighties to sell America on this garbage—like a big sister trying to get their innocent sibling to smoke cigarettes for the first time. The socialism of France was sold to us all through rebellion, with sex, violence, and red flagged upheavals—and their net result has been garbage and decay.
I was so glad to get out of Paris that the Coke I had on the way out on the fast train back to England never tasted better. The city lights faded quickly because there was nothing going on in the French countryside past 9 PM, nothing productive. Nobody was up late working third shift to make bowls for a thriving export, nobody was inventing the newest revelation of science and technology—the French people were just sleeping and paying respect to their latest religion hoping to climb those circular stairs upon their deaths to arrive in the grand room of heaven. And I was happy to speed right on by for the English Channel. As we went under the water and came up on the other side, and the time changed I felt relief to have been out of that dreadful place. England has its problems with socialism too, but at least they are intellectually curious people rooted in the capitalism of language. It was like that feeling you have after a funeral where the sad stuff is out of the way and you could get back to what you would normally do—you can take off the stuffy suit and put on some shorts and relax with your thoughts. Paris was a disaster and it will take anyone who follows it with it into the oblivion of death—which is the primary driver behind Brexit. Thank goodness, we are waking up in America because Paris was not an example anybody should follow, and I can say that now with firsthand experience.
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