If you look at the title of this post and you have nothing more than a base familiarity with the stylings of the late George Carlin, chances are you’re wondering if I’m framing this question in terms of the Alderaanian Ecumenical Assembly’s seating arrangement.
If that really is the question, well, it’s pretty quick and easy to answer.
No, Carlin was not on the political Right. But that’s not what I’m here to discuss, since it’s been quite well covered elsewhere and honestly isn’t that interesting a topic once you’ve seen the video on how he created Reddit. What I would like to discuss, however, is one of Carlin’s more famous sayings. One of the handful of times that he drops his vitriol toward his own demographic, he actually comes within a hyperlane of any sort of profundity.
At first glance, this might seem a difficult point to debate. After all, not all cynics are nihilists. Even Carlin himself had some general idea of what might make him feel better.
Well, not just that. But if we overall had less crime, less poverty, less suffering in the galaxy, I doubt Carlin or even Alan Moore would be terribly upset about that. They just have a different idea than us counter-revolutionaries on how to bring about such a galaxy. Is that in and of itself a bad thing? Or, in other words: Could we get rid of the cynics by bringing about the change they wish to see in the galaxy?
Well, friends, I’m sorry to inform you that the answer is no. No, we can’t. We cannot do that because, to be quite frank, it’s nearly impossible for idealists to avoid becoming cynics. This is because idealism and cynicism are built on the same faulty premise. That premise is that, in our fallen state, we can do away with all the evils and suffering in this galaxy. All it takes is figuring out the right combination of policies. Right?
Since you know where I come from and what I stand for, I trust I don’t need to explain the flaw here. You see, cynicism and idealism are not merely cut from the same cloth–they are the same thing. All that really differs is their tone. Their outlook is the same, their attitude is the same, and many of their methods are the same.
No discussion of concepts is useful without defining those concepts first. “Cynic” is the far easier of the two. A cynic is a person who looks for the cloud in every silver lining. It's a bit more nuanced than pessimism, and far more vicious. Cynics are actually more likely to see these clouds than simple pessimists, because they often see the clouds that are beyond the horizon, and in many cases, they see clouds where there are none to begin with. I hate the glass metaphor, but I can’t think of anything better, so let’s consider it for a moment. A pessimist will say “The glass is half empty.” A cynic, on the other hand, will say “Sure, the glass is full now, but you need to drink that water, and once you’ve drunk it, it's only a matter of time before you're thirsty again, so what does it matter?”
You get the picture. As for an idealist, that’s much harder because its colloquial usage has taken on so many different meanings. It’s been applied to both the people the Cathedral tells us to like…
and those it tells us to dislike.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd3821b9d-a5f2-4be3-85c2-8cb0b3331f84_500x500.jpeg)
It’s also been applied to people who just have a vague notion of goodness in the galaxy and want to increase that goodness overall. None of these is particularly helpful, so let me give you mine.
The way I see it, an idealist is someone who sees all the suffering and pain in the world, looks to its causes, and thinks they can figure out a singular (or at least few-faceted) solution for it. They become so convinced of the usefulness of their solution that they will broker no disagreement whatsoever.
In many of these instances, they will be so convinced of it that not only will they become incensed at disagreement, they will proclaim that the only reason anyone would have a problem with their proposed solutions is if they hate the people that said idealist is trying to help, when in fact, a lot of those critiques are from people who understand the nature of the problem far better and know that the idealist’s ideal solution will only make it worse.
If you’re an idealist of any sort reading this, whether human nationalist, conservative, Jedi, or Leftist, I’m sure you’re feeling at least a little offended at seeing that. I don’t blame you. I’m a recovering idealist myself. If you want to ragequit reading here and now, that’s your right, and there’s nothing I can do to stop you. But I would ask you to keep watching, because I believe that your ideals come from noble intentions, and I’d like to help you direct them better.
In a sense, Carlin was right. It’s nearly impossible for anyone to become a cynic without being an idealist first. I might even go so far as to say it’s completely impossible, but I hate dealing in absolutes.
Carlin didn’t go far enough, though. Cynics are not just frustrated idealists at the core. Me, I would say that you either renounce idealism, or live long enough to see yourself become a cynic. And no, pessimism is not the natural conclusion of renouncing idealism. Rather, it is about embracing the notions long held about our galaxy and how it works. Namely, the Fall of Man and our resulting corrupted state.
It would be wonderful if we could live in a galaxy where everything everyone did was motivated by a sense of pure selflessness and nothing else, wouldn’t it? Everyone’s neuroses would get sorted out, no child would go hungry, and divorce would cease to exist. The sad thing is, this is not a galaxy that is possible.
My main reason for detesting the metaphor of the half-filled glass as much as I do is because while it pretends to have an air of neutrality, it teaches us the wrong lesson about the nature of optimism. Yes, it’s true that a pessimist will fixate on the half of the glass in which there is no water, but an optimist will not do the opposite. The optimist will, in fact, say that the glass is half-empty and half-full.
Optimists do not, in fact, ignore all that is wrong with this universe and the people in it. How could they? Even those of us who spend their entire lives dwelling on the upper levels of Coruscant cannot deny just what a sorry state so many of us live in. True, those pampered nepo babies might be unaware of the extent of suffering in the world, but they do know it exists. It’s too great to possibly hide entirely. Those who try to deny the suffering are little more than delusional idealists, and their delusions, unless they are well and truly psychotic, seldom last.
Let’s take an example in mind from my day job. I work as a welder. The very nature of my job requires that I work with tools that are only powered by 240-volt outlets, which are double the Republic standard. These are the same voltage that is used for charging speeders and lightsabers, and running clothes dryers. Now, let us suppose that an idealist somehow manages to find their way into the Senate with environmental concerns as their driving ideal.
All the problems on this idealist’s homeworld, they would have us believe, are due to people polluting the planet. Dumping toxic waste into lakes, rivers, and oceans; pumping smog into the air; and worst of all, burning too many fossil fuels. This makes people sick, and unable to make empathetic, informed decisions. Fair enough, that’s worth considering. Let’s further suppose that they’ve covered the more obvious forms of pollution with corresponding legislation, and are now ready to take care of the rest.
Obviously, 240-volt outlets put out far more voltage than their half-sized counterparts, which of course necessitates the burning of more of those fossil fuels to power them. Since this idealist is focused entirely on their pet cause, they don’t consider the widespread consequences of applying their ideas with a sledgehammer. The idealist wins over all the other residents of that ivory tower on Coruscant, and they get all devices that run on 240-volt outlets banned. Good, right?
Well, no. While it’s certainly possible that the Jedi could be brought to heel and abide by the ban, the Order would hardly be unanimous on it. Maybe they could invent a new form of lightsaber that can be charged in 120-volt outlets. The thing is, with the power required to generate a lightsaber blade, the charging time would be a matter of days instead of the several hours it is now. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing, you’d think, since most Jedi would have the patience to deal with that.
Patience, however, is hardly the only issue here. The Order complains frequently that their resources, especially manpower, are stretched thin. Suppose you have a couple Jedi who are dispatched to deal with a rogue weapons developer on Balmorra. This developer has holed up in a durasteel-reinforced fortress with many doors. Sure, the lightsabers can cut through those doors. It’s not easy, though, and in the process, the lightsabers will run out of power sooner or later. While this weapons-building powerhouse will have no shortage of ports to charge lightsabers in, they will also be scrutinized more heavily than other worlds to make sure they’re abiding by the new regulations, so there’s no chance of getting around them. Those lightsabers that have been cutting through the durasteel doors won’t be of any use in deflecting the laser blasts from the automated turrets and battle droids in the fortress. Sure, maybe we could have each Jedi take multiple lightsabers, like so many smugglers and pirates did back before swappable power cells were a thing in blasters, but how will all those other lightsabers be made? You’ll need more manufacturing drills and presses, which means an overall increase of machinery, which means…more fossil fuels burned. So, you’ve neutered the Jedi, made it that much easier for lightsaber designs to fall into the hands of bad actors, and, to top it off…worsened the problem you set out to solve!
Why not take this example further? Let’s say this idealist in the Senate decides it’s a good thing that lightsabers are falling into disuse. The machines used to make them will soon become obsolete, along with nearly all of Balmorra’s evil, violent industry! Putting aside the obvious issue of millions of Balmorrans being suddenly put out of work without any way to feed their families, there are other industries affected by this. My job would certainly be affected. Yes, I’m perfectly aware there are an abundance of welding machines that run on 120-volt outlets. But these machines don’t work nearly as well as their higher-voltage counterparts. For one thing, they take a lot longer to heat the metal, which completely changes how I go about the work. In itself, that wouldn’t be too big a deal since I can adapt as well as anybody.
This, however, isn’t the only issue. My work would be greatly hampered by this new regulation since the machine wouldn’t be able to generate a current powerful enough to weld thicker metals. This would greatly narrow the number of projects that I, or any other welder for that matter, could work on. Many of the vital components of the freighters that deliver medical supplies and food to isolated planets and space stations couldn’t be worked on. This means that many of the freighters would have to be decommissioned, the future new models wouldn’t be nearly as durable–and thus many more overall would need to be made–and the smaller freighter runners who haven’t already made a name for themselves would be out of work. Oh, and those colonies and stations would at best have to have their populations relocated, and at worst, starve to death.
“Well, why not weld with your lightsaber?” I can hear this idealist retorting. You mean, the lightsaber that takes two days to recharge? Sure, and what’ll I do for work in the meantime? Maybe I could charge more, but then far fewer people could afford my services, and in turn, far fewer people in need of those services would get them to begin with.
This sort of situation is exactly the one that Darth Hayek alluded to in his holocron:
Since the idealist in our hypothetical has not consulted me or anyone in my industry before pushing this regulation, they got it into their head that they can simply change the galaxy at will. But, they have limited vision, like any of us, and no idea what would happen when they grab hold of the power they can’t wield responsibly.
The scenarios I have described earlier are what would likely happen if the regulations were either followed faithfully or seriously enforced. Let’s suppose they were either ignored or worked around. At best, this imaginary idealist would barely even notice. Idealists seldom do, so this is a likely outcome. But the people of the Republic would certainly notice, in terms of everything getting a bit more expensive. If this idealist did notice, they’d come up with more ways to close the loopholes of their voltage regulation, or come up with harsher penalties for disobeying, both of which would lead to…well, more of what I described earlier. As for the idealist in question themselves, they’d either retire in disgrace and resign themselves to a life of stewing over their mistakes, or become ever more wrathful and destructive.
So, there you have it. George Carlin was right, though not in the way he thought. Cynicism isn’t idealism plus frustration, it’s idealism plus time. This is why we, as counter-revolutionaries, need to do our utmost to convince the people of the Republic that idealism is the problem. We need to help them attune themselves to the will of the galaxy, to the will of the Force itself. In doing so, they will discover everything there is to love about life. They will discover how to weather the inevitable misfortunes that come with being alive in this galaxy.
Life is so much brighter when your mind is not clouded by lofty ideals.