What do the so-called ‘elites’ really think of ordinary people?

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One sometimes wonders whether the so-called ‘elites’ – whom I would rather describe as parasites – have any sense of ethical or moral propriety. The answer, I believe is somewhat ambivalent. These hyper-technocratic, ‘transhumanist’ creatures do display an ‘ethical’ awareness of a specific, perverted kind of ‘ethos’, but of a moral sense there is no indication. The only ‘ethical’ justification of action that one can detect on their part, judging by the available evidence, seems to be the perceived need to move towards a technocratic, AI-oriented, financially fully digitalised and controlled society, on the ashes of extant society. What does this mean as far as the ‘ethical’ goes?

Philosophically speaking, although the terms ‘ethical’ and ‘moral’ are normally used interchangeably, strictly speaking they are not synonymous. ‘Ethical’ is related (as implied above) to ethos, which denotes a shared sense of value and purpose on the part of a particular community (regardless of what values and purpose they adhere to), and can therefore be employed to articulate an ‘ethical’ justification of certain actions by members of the community, insofar as they belong to the collective. This sense of ‘ethical’ goes back to the work of G.W.F. Hegel, and must be distinguished from the strict meaning of ‘moral’, which is specifically tied to the moral consciousness and actions of individuals, rather than communities.

The implications of this distinction are quite far-reaching. They entail the consequence, that ‘ethical’ requirements and actions need not be regarded as universally binding for all people, but as being applicable to particular communities that share a distinct ethos. One could use the term ethical as widely as to include all people belonging to a certain, distinct culture, for instance western, as opposed to eastern culture, but because there are so many subcultures within each of these broad designations, it is almost meaningless to apply it so broadly – after all, there are significant cultural differences between French and American culture in the West, and between Indian and Chinese culture in the East, and when the terrain is narrowed down even further, to the level of French and American cuisine, or cinema, for example, the differences become even more pronounced.

As far as ‘moral’ goes, however, there is an important difference; while ‘ethical’ in its communal sense may have limited relevance, as it is restricted to members of a community, ‘moral’ has universal significance, insofar as it applies to individual actions that are judged in terms of criteria that are regarded as being universally valid for all human beings, regardless of the cultural community one belongs to. For example, it may be ‘ethically’ justifiable to exclude women from certain traditionally exclusive male societies such as the that of the ‘Regular’ (as opposed to ‘Continental’) Freemasons, while other organisations would object to this, preferring to admit both men and women. By contrast, it is not morally justifiable to claim that men are allowed to rape women, but women are not allowed to do the same to men, or even to object to being raped. Morally speaking, it is universally accepted that rape (of men or women, by men or women) is wrong.  

The universal significance of ‘moral’ is best illustrated with reference to the moral philosophy of Immanuel Kant, a predecessor of Hegel in German idealist philosophy. For Kant, moral actions cannot be justified by appealing to their desired consequences (a moral-philosophical position known as ‘consequentialism,’ or perhaps, at an earlier stage, as ‘utilitarianism,’ which is slightly broader in its implications), but only ‘deontologically’ (from Greek deon: duty, obligation) – that is, insofar as they are carried out because it is one’s duty to act morally. Particular actions should be guided by what he termed the ‘categorical imperative’ (which is unconditional, as opposed to a ‘conditional imperative’), which functions as a touchstone for the moral goodness of one’s actions, and hence as ‘the moral law.’

Kant gave several formulations of the categorical imperative, which can be summarised by stating: ‘Always act in such a manner that the maxim (motivating rule or axiom) of your action may be regarded as being valid for all people at all times.’ Employed as a yardstick, it enables one to ‘test’ whether an action is morally good or not; for example, is it morally good to steal? In terms of the categorical imperative the question follows: can the action of theft be understood as being justifiably valid for all people at all times? For Kant the answer is unequivocally ‘No,’ because if one says ‘Yes’ it means that one cannot object if people steal from you; in fact, one should applaud it. For similar reasons murder cannot be morally justified, because if it is, everyone should be granting everyone else the right to kill them, and it becomes contradictory.     

The distinction between ‘ethical’ and ‘moral’ was appropriated by Jürgen Habermas for specific aspects of his discourse ethics (see Lasse Thomassen 2010: 84-96; 102-105). As already intimated above (following Hegel), ‘ethical’ presupposes an ‘ethical’ community that shares in an ethos, that is, certain cultural precepts and mores that are subsumed under its ‘ethical’ orientation, while ‘moral’ (following Kant) implicates a universalistic orientation regarding morally relevant actions. The members of the NWO-cabal can, at best, claim an ‘ethos’ of sorts (as Klaus Shwab and Thierry Malleret indeed seem to), but the ‘ethical’ behaviour derived from it would be nothing more than a perversion, representing an ‘ethos’ which relegates other human beings to the level of expendable ‘useless eaters.’

And should any individual belonging to this group of psychopaths claim affirmative moral standing for his or her actions (or for those promoted by the collective, that is, the technocratic cabal, of which she or he is a member) aimed at promoting the (not so) ‘great reset’ and all it entails, it would fail, in terms of Kant and Habermas’s ‘universalisation’ principle. Why? Because such a claim, in their case, would entail an obvious performative contradiction: ‘Thou shalt not kill’ is a universally applicable imperative; to kill millions of people deliberately (by means of so-called ‘vaccines’ commissioned by them, for instance) implies the removal of the ‘not’ in this imperative, and that means the universalisation of ‘Thou shalt kill’ would render their own lives forfeit. But clearly it is not in the interest of the neo-fascist globalists to admit this. As Thomassen (2010: 92) puts it with reference to the relevance of Habermas’s discourse ethics for the question of interests:

For Habermas, discourse, as expressed in the universalization principle, is precisely about the universalizability of particular interests. We can think of those interests in terms of validity claims, and what the universalization test does is to test whether those interests or validity claims can be universalized or not. That is, the test is whether certain given interests are not simply my or our interests, but the equal interests of all – in short, whether they are universal.

Which one of ‘ethical’ or ‘moral’ gets priority where a judgement of people’s actions is at stake? ‘Moral’ trumps ‘ethical’ when it comes to the actions of an individual who is a member of an ‘ethical’ community. While it could be argued that such individuals’ actions can be comprehended as being the consequences of the ‘ethical’ priorities of the community they belong to, this does not absolve such individuals of the moral weight and implications of their actions. This can be illustrated within a relevant fictional context, which implicates the members of the iatrocratic, globalist democidal conspirators lording it over the rest of us.      

Just before he died in 1999, one of the world’s great film directors, Stanley Kubrick, afforded one a glimpse into the collective psyche of the world’s ‘mega-rich-and-powerful’ – keeping in mind not merely the link between wealth and power, but also between wealth and (at least potential) disregard for the less financially fortunate. In his last film, Eyes Wide Shut (1999), Kubrick gave us a cinematic noir-masterpiece brimming with abundant allusions to Freud’s insight into the inseparable intertwinement of Eros and Thanatos, life and death, sex and mortality. As might be expected, when this occurs within the social sphere of the billionaire class, clues related to their attitudes towards these inescapable accompaniments to life surface from time to time in the narrative.

The legendary director explores the tortured fantasies of his noir-protagonist, Dr Bill Harford (Tom Cruise), who embarks on a night-long exploration of Eros, unable to banish the painful image of his wife, Alice (Nicole Kidman) having sex with a sailor – something she confessed to him to have desired (but never accomplished) about a year earlier, after seeing the object of her desire entering a building. Through a fortuitous meeting with an erstwhile student friend at a wealthy patient’s house party (where he is enlisted to attend to a beautiful young woman who has overdosed on drugs), Bill learns of the gathering of an exclusive, clandestine society, and having received the password from his friend (the pianist hired for the occasion, where he plays blindfolded), he joins the ritualistic meeting, suitably masked  and cloaked in rented apparel.

In the course of the bacchanalian evening, where men are seen copulating incognito with nude, attractive young women in various positions throughout the immense mansion, Bill’s bluff is called, and he is brought before the entire assembly, facing an ominous figure who challenges him on his illicit presence at the assembly. Were it not for a masked, naked young woman intervening on his behalf at the point where he is about to be stripped of his clothes, and insisting on receiving the punishment in his place, Bill would apparently not have got off as lightly as he did, being allowed to leave unscathed.

When Dr Harford discovers a newspaper report of the recent death of a young woman, he is prompted to continue investigating the secretive meeting he joined the evening before, but he notices that he is being followed. Shortly afterwards he is invited over by the same wealthy patient at whose house he attended to a young woman suffering the consequences of an overdose. His patient, who acknowledges to have been present at Bill’s near-demise the previous evening, makes it clear that Bill should desist from probing the exclusive assembly. In the course of trying to persuade Bill, he trivialises the young woman’s death by pointing out that she ‘was (only) a hooker’, and that she died from overdosing, as she nearly did before at his own house party, where Bill examined her earlier.

It is when he urges Bill to recall the young woman (with ‘the big tits’) in his own bedroom on the earlier occasion, describing her as a candidate for an overdose anyway, that one realises that the woman was in fact ‘sacrificed’ in Bill’s place, and that the casual, offhand reference to her is a sincere expression of the wealthy patient’s utter contempt for her as a woman and a person. It does not matter one iota that she paid with her life for Bill’s folly, even though the latter, as medical doctor and potential future member of this upper echelon of society, is evidently worth some avuncular, admonitory investment. In the course of the conversation one gets the distinct impression that Bill’s pianist friend suffered the same fate as the call girl.

This episode in Eyes Wide Shut, directed by one of the geniuses of cinema, may be regarded as being paradigmatic of the attitudes of the super-wealthy towards ‘ordinary mortals’, as currently on display in the diverse miseries inflicted by these ‘elites’ on people throughout the world. Not only this, but as I wrote earlier about the question concerning the priority of the (community-oriented) ‘ethical’ and the (individual conscience-centred) ‘moral,’ the moral takes priority over the ethical when actions are performed which are claimed to be ‘ethically’ justified by the collective mission of a community of sorts.

Today the putative ‘elites’ may claim that the iatrocratic genocide taking place today, which will supposedly culminate in a state of affairs where ‘you will own nothing and you will be happy,’ is justifiable in financial, ecological and demographic – and hence, ethical – terms. And yet, just as the fictional Bill’s party host is individually culpable for the death of ‘ordinary mortals’ such as the expendable courtesan and hired pianist (even if he and others might hide behind the select group they belong to), the individuals comprising this group of neo-fascists today cannot escape the moral implications of their participation in this, probably the greatest crime in world history.

As morally culpable individuals they are guilty as hell – too bad if, as psychopaths, they are impervious to a sense of guilt or remorse. Phrased in terms of Kant’s categorical imperative (the ‘moral law’) – where the motivating rule of one’s actions should lend itself to being elevated to a universal law for all people at all times – the corollary of their deeds is that democide should become universally acceptable, which is morally contradictory insofar as it would entail their own demise as well.

5 thoughts on “What do the so-called ‘elites’ really think of ordinary people?

  1. Thanks Bert.
    Hollywood rarely, if ever, gives us a peek into the psyche of the psycho parasites.
    Perhaps Kubrick was given free rein so the parasites could laugh at their own in joke.

    1. That could be, Johnny, or it could be that he knew he was on his last legs – Kubrick actually died in the same year that Eyes Wide Shut was released (1999) – and did not care whom he would upset by presenting the ‘elites’ in all their depravity. Remember, too, that film noir’s cardinal characteristic is that it deals with corruption, and this film is no exception – corruption among the mega-rich. And Kubrick was known for exploring the darker aspects of the human psyche, anyway.

      1. Thanks for that reply Bert.
        It’s also odd that one of Hollywood’s go to tough guys, all American patriot and hero, (as well as mega rich) Tom Cruise, got the starring role.
        Perhaps he just wanted to work with Kubrick.

        1. I agree Johnny – I have often wondered why Cruise got the role. Maybe it was because Kubrick wanted to pair him with Nicole Kidman, his wife at the time. I don’t think Cruise is a good actor, which, paradoxically, could also be the reason why Kubrick wanted him; as his usual, bland self, Cruise ‘played’ the role of a young, fairly uncomprehending medical doctor perfectly – in other words, he did not have to act.

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