Dragon Politics

Libertarianism ends with a pitch black punchline.

“I was just being myself.”

“BE SOMEONE ELSE!”

This was an exchange between my (then adolescent) nephew and my dad. Pop had a versatile wit. His comedy toolkit included everything from scalpels to claw hammers, any of which he could deploy with alarming speed. He was also the kind of guy who could be funny even when he was genuinely annoyed, which he clearly was at the time.

The reason I remember this little back-and-forth is that it seemed to encapsulate every political argument, spanning back into the murky mists of yore.

LIBERAL: Stop judging me!

CONSERVATIVE: Stop forcing me to!

I can’t remember what my nephew was saying or doing that was so annoying, and so fit for judgment. But all kids will find a way to press your buttons, and work your last nerve. It’s the one native skill they possess, an inherent feature of their inexperience. They cross that first line because they can’t see it, then cross it again to compare the results. They’re like retarded scientists in a cargo-cult lab; If the Bunsen burner doesn’t blow up the first time you spring a gas leak, you can bet additional trials will come rolling down the research pipeline.

That’s not a bad thing. In fact, we count on it; if the kids aren’t testing our patience at least some of the time, it’s possible something’s gone wrong with them. We actually need them to experiment. To test not only our patience, but the general boundaries of reality, because our ultimate goal is to help them take over for us as good stewards of that reality.

Discipline is a key part of that instruction, but not one so extreme that it will crush their ability to question authorities and gauge rulesets. After all, they won’t always be the ones setting the rules, and need to be prepared to fight tyrannical rules and rulers when they encounter them. So we give some leeway to poke and prod, and to evaluate their results in the aftermath.

This leeway naturally involves risks. In addition to interrupting our conversations and ruining our parties, they will skin their knees, break their arms, glide into traffic on their skateboards without looking both ways. As they age, the dangers of their experiments will become more severe, as they test new boundaries further and further away from your prying eyes.

That’s why the retort to the youthful liberal’s “Stop judging me!” is answered by the elder conservative’s “Stop forcing me to!” The latter knows from history and hard experience that, while some experimentation is necessary, it shouldn’t run unbound from all logic, moral sanity, and common sense. Even if the kid survives these mad science experiments intact, he might be wasting a lot of time reinventing wheels. And sometimes that junior science lab really will explode. I’ve been to a couple of those funerals.

But there is a third reply to the immortal political argument. It seems like it’s only in imperial settings that it’s taken seriously at all, and is evidence that the empire is going down the tubes. The rebuttal comes in various formulations, but it essentially boils down to this:

LIBERTARIAN: I don’t care.

I don’t care if you judge me, and I don’t care to judge you. As long as you don’t pick my pocket or break my leg, do whatever you like. Go nuts.

The libertarian argument is attractive for good reason. Theoretically, a social contract that includes total self-ownership at its core represents the best of all possible worlds. To leave any air gap whatsoever is to invite tyrannical busybodies to the party. That means no dress code. Come as you are. Hell, come naked, if you want. You do you.

This is the libertarian paradise in a nutshell. So long as they cosign the NAP, citizens of every size, shape and color are free to live happy, prosperous lives. It even seems technically achievable at certain low population densities, and for given lengths of time.

That could be said of every political paradise. Even communists might be able to squeeze in a good year or two, before the starvations and bloodbaths kick into high gear. Communism must end in tragedy, because it contains a tragic error at its core. The communist believes that human beings are fully malleable, and as such can be remolded to suit their desired social arrangement. Libertarians make the opposite assumption, but it’s ultimately every bit as tragic and fatal.

Like the anarch, the libertarian doesn’t believe in such a thing as “society” per se. What he sees is a vast network of contracts. The content of these contracts doesn’t really matter. As long as they’re negotiated and executed in good faith, and they exclude harm to outside parties, then it’s nobody’s business what’s in them. A particularly arch libertarian might go a step further. He might not care if other people’s contracts are made in good faith, if or they bring harm to anyone but himself. Such disputes are none of his concern. Society — to the extent it exists — will remold itself around the evolving contract web and its survivors.

The fatal mode of this political philosophy has to do with a myopic assessment of threats and harms. This isn’t due to the quality of its individual proponents; I know many libertarians who are highly intelligent, and capable of second order thinking. Their shortsightedness is fundamental to the ethos: if you can’t prove that any physical harm is actively taking place in the moment, then you are required to perceive no harm is being done at all. The same goes for a coercive threat. If it isn’t made explicit, then it has no legal standing.

This principled myopathy is a form of self-defense, at least in the abstract. You wouldn’t want to be convicted for something you might do in the future, let alone drummed into court based on spectral evidence, or for spiritual crimes.

That’s even a sensible way to look at it to some degree. Unfortunately for libertarians, we do live in a society, and there are levels to this game. Some threats aren’t just looming on the misty horizon, but are growing fangs and claws right before our eyes.

I mentioned in a note the following line of dialogue, delivered with no shred of irony by Tiamat Legion Medusa (née Richard Hernandez):

When I look in the mirror, I see a creature. Not a human. Which is something that is very important to me.

Medusa goes on to explain what kind of “creature” he is.¹ Once a VP banker at a J.P. Morgan branch, he used his hoarded gold to finance a series of mutilative surgeries. So far, the various contracted surgeons have sliced off his ears, nose and testicles. He also contracted a surgeon to split his tongue in half, and another to install horns and knobby lumps, and another to pull out his teeth. Future contractors will finish the castration job, and implant fangs along the gum line. Or maybe these are all subclauses of the same diabolical contract, and the work of one ambitious Frankenstein. Who knows?

And, of course, “Who cares?” Not any libertarian worth his salt, that’s for sure.

Why should we care what Hernandez is doing to himself? So the moron thinks he’s a dragon. Good for him!

What are you so worried about, Mark? Are you afraid he’ll breathe fire?

I am, actually.

In a way, he already is breathing fire. Though invisible, the flames are melting the minds of everyone around him, setting public sanity fires everywhere he goes. And while casual observation might not reveal harmful intent, his own words and facial expressions constantly betray him.

I’m hoping on getting out there and hopefully let the people here locally know: there’s a dragon in town, y’all!

And not just any dragon. A rainbow dragon!

The smile of a creature who means you no harm

He also talks openly about ways to add more “menace” to his appearance. There is nothing subtle going on here. Tiamat Legion Medusa Hernandez is telling you exactly what he is, and what he wants. The constant, radiative menace and harm that his presence emits makes him giddy. He gets off on it.

Now consider the fact that this ex-banker-come-batshit-insane-AIDS-patient is in the process of installing fangs and claws. Consider what is happening when he tells you children come “running up to him”, with absolutely zero clue of what it is they’re looking at. Consider the legal fact that these children’s parents would be locked under the jail, for giving this out-and-proud, in-your-face predator the beating of his/her/its life.

I wouldn’t advocate that. Not because I’m a “libertarian”, but because it wouldn’t do any good. That might even be part of Hernandez’s designs, something else he would “get off” on. And maybe while you’re fighting this dragon, it manages to sink in a few of those poisoned fangs or claws, or find some other way to deliver you a dose of the Sodom Plague. You can tell me it doesn't spit fire all you want, but be sure to put on goggles before you engage.

As far as empathy goes, I find little of use in my own heart. I’m no saint or exorcist, and wouldn’t know where to begin as far as helping to bring him back towards the light. That’s not to say it’s impossible. But such talents are rare, and beyond most human capacities.

What I would advise instead is to help him complete his transformation.

“Dragons” are, strictly speaking, figments of the imagination. Yes, there were real dragons, once upon a time, and we still live among some of their close descendants. But that isn’t the kind of dragon Hernandez aspires to be. If I had to make a guess, his version is an exotic blend of fantasy art and various psychos from Thomas Harris’ “Hannibal” universe. The creature is pure fiction, and should be treated as such.

So when the dragon walks around in public, he is not really walking around. He isn’t there, doesn’t actually exist. When spotted by adults, the young child’s eyes are covered until the fictional shape is passed. When it floats into your church or place of business, you can’t hear it, can’t see it, won’t transact with it in any way. If it comes onto your property uninvited, shoot it. That’s about as libertarian as I get, these days.

In fact, we don’t even need to unpack freedom of association or property rights to do this, or even treat the trespasser as a figment. After all, Medusa has claimed herself that she isn’t human. If a cocker spaniel walks into my bar, am I obliged to serve it a drink? Hire it at my bank if it applies? To do so would make me as crazy as a dickless Rainbow AIDS Dragon in a strapless gown, getting its nails done by a dangerhair NPC.

That said, we live in a crazy age, where the rights of demons and dragons are declared paramount over those of men and women. So in addition to shunning these creatures, and starving them of the attention they crave, we should also work to outlaw their creation in the first place.

If we are to live in a world of licenses, the “doctors” who perform such surgeries should have theirs revoked, and all contracts they signed and liability shields rendered null and void. If they persist in performing back alley dragonectomies and other mad science experiments, they should face serious prison time. That’s because their crimes aren’t merely against their clients, but against all who come in contact with them, both physically and virtually.

I would also argue that these are crimes against God, in whose holy image we are made. I can already hear some libertarians grumbling about that one.

But if a bunch of godless, unfettered, live-and-let-live laws have brought us to this place of death and madness, of what good could they possibly be?

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1. Despite the “genderless dragon” claim, this madman’s co-dependents repeatedly refer to him with female pronouns. I know. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not supposed to.