The progs are the hardcore side of the lefty coin. The majority of lefties are simple and stupid folk who believe that the world is full of love and laughter and that everyone really wants to be nice to one another. They also tend to hold a narrow worldview that consists of believing that the entire planet is more or less the same as the street in which they grew up, and that as such they will be treated by everyone with warmth and love and respect, with the goodwill overflowing like hippy love bangles at a Beloved Festival.
And so the intrepid adventurers head out, to find the great solace of human companionship. And in the beginning they get lucky and find some of it too. Or perhaps it wasn’t lucky at all; perhaps these random acts of kindness simply served to reinforce their ridiculous and naive beliefs.
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A few nights ago we set up camp near a little creek outside a village. A family living in a nearby house noticed our small settlement of tents and bikes and camp kitchens. They came by—not to chase us away from their home, but rather to offer us all sweet tea and fresh homemade bread and water if we needed it. And, before leaving for the night, a really special and beautiful musical performance from their eldest daughter. 🍵🍞🎸 It was a really lovely evening. Conversation was, as usual, limited to charades and our collective (and very limited) Russian/Kyrgyz, but no one really seemed to mind. Sometimes words aren't so important. 💙
To travel around with this level of dumb naivety is one thing. To document it on social media is simple attention whoring. If you’re going to go then just go. But these clowns also wanted the warm fuzzie feels not just from the people that they met but those who were living vicariously through their leftie world pilgrimage.
Well, a few weeks after sharing this tender moment they were both dead.
However, just over a week ago, on day 359 of their life-changing trip, it all came to a horrific end when they were cycling with a group of other tourists on a scenic stretch of road in southwestern Tajikistan.
They were travelling along the Pamir Highway, a Soviet-era road that stretches across 2000km near the border with Afghanistan and has spectacular views, when a carload of men who are believed to have recorded a video pledging allegiance to the Islamic State group spotted them.
They sped towards the group of tourists, rammed them, jumped out and attacked the cyclists with knives. The horrendous slaying was captured on grainy footage from the attackers — who also took the lives of one Dutch and one Swiss national.
I don’t know about you, but a stretch of road in southwestern Tajikistan is not the kind of place that I would be cycling around thank you very much. And this is coming from a guy who lived in Uganda for a couple of years. Bad things happen in those kind of places, and it must be a very terrible experience to truly discover just how isolated such a stretch of road can be. Traveling without a weapon in such a location is taking dumbness to new levels.
I once had a girlfriend who expressed a desire to travel solo from Egypt to South Africa, hitching her way through the entire African continent. I told her that she was a fucking moron and that if she ever decided to do such a trip then that would be the day that our relationship ended. She got angry and stated that this was her dream. I laughed in her face and said that she had shit for brains. For some reason we broke up not long after. Weird.
“You get a feeling of wanting to give back, not just to this person who has welcomed a stranger into their home, but to the wider world,” Mr Austin wrote on his blog. “You become someone who wants to welcome others into your home. You become a merchant in the gift economy.
“You’re led to believe that the world is a big, scary place. ‘People,’ the narrative goes, ‘are not to be trusted. People are bad. People are evil.’ I don’t buy it.”
It’s a pity that he wasn’t buying what we’re selling. In the end he just bought it.