Sparta – X

Translated from EVROPA SOBERANA

“Man shall be trained for war, and woman for
the recreation of the warrior: all else is folly.”

—Nietzsche


sparta

Women and marriage

So far we have examined in detail the Spartan man, but now it is time to consider the woman and to direct our attention towards her. The Spartans were perhaps the clearest representation of women of honor in the Iron Age, raised under a system that brought out their best qualities. But is it a paradox that, under a resounding patriarchy, women might enjoy broad freedoms? Is it nonsense that in a military where women should have nothing to do, they had more rights than women in any other Greek state? The German ideologue Alfred Rosenberg wrote:

Sparta offered the example of a well disciplined state, and was devoid of any female influence. The kings and the ephors formed the absolute power, the essence of which was the maintenance and expansion of this power through the increase of the Dorian upper stratum with its disciplined outlook.

The Indo-Europeans were strongly patriarchal nations, whose most representative word was precisely “fatherland”, in Latin patria (father), representing the word mater (mother), “matter” (in Germanic languages—German Vaterland and fatherland in English—, the words mean “land of the fathers”). Sparta itself was patriarchal to the core, but as we shall see, the Spartans were not in any way unfair or oppressive to their wives. They enjoyed an impossible freedom in the effeminate societies where everything is focused on materialism and enjoyment of earthly, temporary pleasures, when the woman becomes a hetaerae: a passive object of enjoyment and distorted worship.

Sparta, a state so hard and so manly, was the fairest of Hellas in everything concerning their women, and not just because they mollycoddled, spoiled or flattered them. Sparta was the only Greek state which instituted a policy of female education, outside the knowledge of the home and children that every woman should own. Sparta was also the state with the highest literacy rate of all Hellas, because Spartan girls were taught to read like their brothers, unlike the rest of Greece where women were illiterate.

In the rest of Greece, sometimes, newborn girls (remember the myth of Atalanta), even if they were perfectly healthy (just like in China today) were exposed to death. Many parents almost considered a disgrace the birth of a girl, and finally all that was achieved was to produce an imbalance in the demographic distribution of the sexes.

But Sparta had more women than men, because their exposure of girls was not as severe; because girls did not pass the brutalities of male instruction, because they did not fall in battle, and because men were often on campaign. Spartans who felt at home should, therefore, always thought in terms of mothers, sisters, wives and daughters: the Homeland, the sacred ideal, had a female character; and protecting it amounted to protect their women. Men did not protect themselves: they were the remote shell of the heart, the sacred heart, and sacrificed themselves in honor of that heart. In Sparta more than anywhere else, females made up the inner circle, while males represented the protective outer wall.

Spartan girls received food in the same amount and quality of their brothers, which did not happen in the democratic states of Greece, where the best food pieces were for boys. Spartan girls were placed under an education system similar to the boys that favored their skills of strength, health, agility and toughness in outdoor classes, but trained by women. And they were not educated in that blind fanaticism inculcated to excel, sacrifice and desire—that feeling that among boys it brushed the desire for self-destruction. For girls, on the other hand, the emphasis was put in the domain and control of emotions and feelings and the cultivation of the maternal instinct. It favored that youths of both sexes trained athletically together, as it was expected that the lads would encourage the fair sex to excel in physical exertion.

The hardness, severity and discipline of female education were, in any case, much lower than those of the Agoge, and there was much less emphasis on the domain of the suffering and pain as well as aggression. Punishment for Spartan girls was not even remotely as cruel as the punishment for boys, nor were torn out from their family homes at seven. After seeing the almost supernatural prowess that meant male instruction, the education of girls, despite being exemplary, is nor impressive.

But why was all this about, apart from the fact that all men were active in the military and therefore needed more self-control and discipline? Simply put, the man is a ticking time bomb. In his insides it ferments and burns all kinds of energies and essences that, if not channeled, are negative when poured out, as these forces come from the “dark side” which first inclination is chaos and destruction. The aggressiveness of man, his instinct to kill, his tendency to subdue others, his sexual boost, greatest strength, courage, power, will, strength and toughness, make that he has to be subjected to a special discipline that cultivates and channels those energies in order to achieve great things, especially when it comes to young healthy men with powerful, natural instincts—under penalty of which his spirits suffer a huge risk.

Asceticism itself (as sacrifice) is much more typical of man than woman. In fact, the Indo-European woman was never subjected to disciplinary systems as severe as those of the ancient armies. It was considered by the men of old as a more “magical” creature because she was not hindered by the roars of the beast within. For all these reasons, it was fair that the male education was more severe and rigorous than the female: that is how you train the beast. “It is better to educate men,” Nietzsche put in the words of a wise man who suggested disciplining women.

The main thing in the female formation was physical and a “socialist” education to devote their lives to their country—like men, only that in their case the duty was not shedding her blood on the battlefield, but to keep alive the home, providing a strong and healthy offspring to her race, and raise them with wisdom and care. Giving birth is the fruit of the female instinct that renews the race: that was the mission inculcated in the girls of Sparta.

Spartan women ran, boxed and wrestled in addition of using javelin and disc, and swimming, doing gymnastics and dance. Although they did participate in sport tournaments, women were forbidden do it in the Olympics because of the rejection of the other Hellenic peoples, infected with the mentality whereby a “lady” should rot within four walls. We see that, while Greek sculptures represent well the ideal of male beauty (think of the discobolus by Myron), they did not in the least approach the ideal of Aryan female beauty: all women in female statues represented amorphous, not very natural and non-athletic bodies, albeit with perfect facial features. If the Spartans had left sculptures of women, they would have represented better the ideal of beauty because they, unlike the other Greeks, had a clearly defined feminine ideal, and it was clear what a woman had to be.

As for female austerity, it was also pronounced (though not as much as the one that men practiced), especially compared with the behavior of the other Greek women, so fond of the colors, superficiality, decorations, objects, and with a hint of “consumerism” typical of civilized societies. Spartan women did not even know the extravagant hairstyles from the East and they used to wear, as a sign of their discipline, their hair up with simplicity: probably the most practical for a life of intense sports and activity. Also, all kinds of makeup, decorations, jewelry and perfumes were unknown and unnecessary for Spartan women, which proudly banished all that southern paraphernalia. Seneca said that “virtue does not need ornaments; it has in itself its highest ornaments.”

One purpose of raising healthy and agile women was that Spartan babies, growing within solid bodies, were born as promising products. According to Plutarch, Lycurgus “made the maidens exercise their bodies in running, wrestling, casting the discus, and hurling the javelin, in order that the fruit of their wombs might have vigorous root in vigorous bodies and come to better maturity, and that they themselves might come with vigour to the fulness of their times, and struggle successfully and easily with the pangs of child-birth” (Life of Lycurgus, XIV).

Spartan women were prepared, since childhood, to childbirth and to the stage where they would be mothers, teaching them the right way to raise the little one to become a true Spartan. During this training, the Spartan women were often babysitters, acquiring experience for times when they would receive the initiation of motherhood. They married from age twenty, and did not marry men who surpassed them greatly in age (as was done in the rest of Greece), but with men their age or five years older or younger at most. Age difference within the members of a marriage was poorly viewed, as it sabotaged the duration of the couple’s fertile phase. The aberration of marrying girls of fifteen with men of thirty was not even remotely allowed, an aberration that did happen in other Hellenic states where parents came to force unions whose age difference was of a generation.

Nor was allowed in Sparta another abomination, which consisted of marring girls with their own uncles or cousins to keep inherited wealth within the family: an altogether oriental, anti-Indo-European and unnatural mentality. Other practices, such as prostitution or rape, were not even conceived. Or adultery. One Geradas, a Spartan of very ancient type, who, on being asked by a stranger what the punishment for adulterers was among them, answered: “Stranger, there is no adulterer among us.” “Suppose, then,” replied the stranger, “there should be one.” “A bull,” said Geradas, “would be his forfeit, a bull so large that it could stretch over MountTaygetus and drink from the river Eurotas.” Then the stranger was astonished and said: “But how could there be a bull so large?” To which Geradas replied, with a smile: “But how could there be an adulterer in Sparta?” Such, then, are the accounts we find of their marriages.

In other Greek states, male nudity was common in religious and sport activities, and this was a sign of their arrogance and pride. Female nudity, however, was banned as the very presence of women in such acts. But in the processions, religious ceremonies, parties and sport activities of Sparta, girls were as naked as the young. Every year during the Gymnopaedia, which lasted ten days, the Spartan youth of both sexes competed in sports tournaments and danced naked. (This was another suggestion of Plato in his Republic as well as one of the observations made by Caesar on the Germans.) It was felt that, attending sporting events, the young Spartan would be able to select a well-built husband.

Today nudist activities of this type would be ridiculous because people’s nudity is shameful; modern bodies are flabby and lack normal forms. The modern individual tends to see an athletic body as an outstanding body, when an athletic body is a normal and natural body; it is the rest of stunted physical and non-exercised types which are not normal. Recall Nietzsche’s reflection: “A naked man is generally regarded as a shameful spectacle.” However, at that time, witnessing such a display of health, agility, strength, beauty, muscle and good constitutions should inspire genuine respect and pride of race. The Hellenes of the democratic states argued at the time that the presence of female nudity could cause leering looks, but the fact is that the Spartans took it all with ease and pagan nonchalance. Moreover, young Spartan women that identified an awestruck voyeur used a clever string of jokes that made him a fool in front of the entire stadium, full of solemn authorities and attentive people.

In some ceremonies, the girls sang about boys who had done great deeds, or dishonored that had led to bad. They were, in some way, the demanding voice of the Spartan collective unconscious, which ensures the courage and conduct of men. Not only in the songs appeared the pouring of their opinions, but in public life: they did not overlook a single one; they were not gentle, but were always criticizing or praising the brave and coward. For men of honor, opinions on the value and manhood were more important if they came from female voices worthy of respect: the criticisms were sharper and praises more restorative. According to Plutarch, the Spartan woman “engendered in young people a laudable ambition and emulation.” That is why relationships with women not softened them, but hardened them even more, as they preferred to be brave and conquer their worship.

And what was the result of the patriarchal education on the young girls? It was a caste of women on the verge of perfection: severe, discreet and proud. Spartan femininity took the appearance of young athletic, happy and free, yet serious and somber. They were, as the Valkyries, perfect companion of the warriors. Trophy-women insofar as they aspired for the best man, but physically active and bold; very far, then, from the ideal of “woman-object.”

In all Hellas, Spartan women were known for their great beauty and respected for their serenity and maturity. The poet Alcman of Sparta (7th century BCE) dedicated a poem to a woman champion competing in chariot races, praising her for her “golden hair and silver face.” Two centuries later, another poet, Bacchylides, wrote about the “blonde Lacedaemonian,” describing her “golden hair.” Given that the dyes in Sparta were banned, we can deduce that racism and the Apartheid instinct of the Spartans with respect to aboriginal Greeks was strong enough so that, no more and no less than seven centuries after the Dorian invasion, blond hair still predominated among the citizenry of the country.

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In a comedy called Lysistrata, written by the Athenian playwright Aristophanes (444-385 BCE), there is a scene where a crowd of admiring Athenian women surround a young Spartan named Lampito. “What a splendid creature!” they said. “What a skin, so healthy, what a body, so firm!” Another added: “I’ve never seen breasts like that.” Homer called Sparta Kalligynaika, meaning “land of beautiful women.” On the other hand, do not forget that the legendary Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in the world, was originally Helen of Sparta: an ideal, even a queen-priestess that was stolen by the East and that not only Sparta, but the whole Greece recovered through fighting and conquest. (*)

Spartan women were superior in all respects to the other women of their time and, of course, today’s women. Even in physical virtues, courage and toughness they would outstrip most modern men. Their severity was the best company to their husbands and the best raising for their children, and she demanded the greatest sacrifices. An anecdote recounts how a Spartan mother killed his own son when she saw he was the sole survivor of the battle and that returned home with a back injury, that is, he had fled rather than fulfill his sacred duty: immolation. Another Spartan mother, seeing her son fled the combat, lifted her robe and asked in the most merciless crudeness if his intention was to, terrified, return from where he came. While other mothers would have said “poor thing!” and stretched their arms open, Spartan mothers did not forgive.

Tacitus wrote that the mothers and wives of the Germans (whose mentality was not too different from the Spartan) used to count the scars of their warriors, and that they even required them to return with wounds to show their readiness of sacrifice for them. The Spartans believed that in their wives lived a divine gift, and it was not to be the women who would convince them otherwise, so these women sought to maintain the high standard of the devotion their men professed.

Furthermore, women were convinced that in their men it lived the nobility, courage, honesty, power and righteousness typically of the male, along with the notion of duty, honor and the willingness to sacrifice; and men also sought to keep up with such an ideal. Again, we find that the ancient woman did not soften the man, but helped to improve and perfect him, because the man felt the need to maintain the integrity before such women, so women remained alert and they did the same with them, having in their minds that they themselves were ideals for which their men were willing to sacrifice themselves. Thus, a virtuous circle was created. The woman was a motif not to give up the fight, but precisely a reason to fight with even more fanaticism.

Other Greeks were outraged because the Spartan women were not afraid to speak in public; because they had opinions and that, what is more, their husbands listened. (The same indignation the Romans experienced about the greater freedom of Germanic women.) Moreover, since their men were in constant military camp life, Spartan women, like the Vikings, were responsible for the farm and home. They managed the home resources, economy and self-sufficiency of the family, so that the Spartans relied on their wives to provide the stipulated food rations for their Syssitias. Spartan women (again, like Germanic women) could inherit property and pass it, unlike the other Greek women. All this female domestic administration was, as we see, similar in Germanic law, where women boasted the home-key as a sign of sovereignty over the holy and impregnable family house, and of faithfulness to the breadwinner. Home is the smallest temple that may have the smallest unit of blood, the cell on which the whole race is based: the family. And the bearer of the key had to be forcibly the mother.

A society at war is doomed if the home, if the female rear, is not with the male vanguard. All the sacrifices of the warriors are just a glorious waste, aimless and meaningless if in the country no women are willing to keep the home running, providing support and spiritual encouragement to the men in the field and, ultimately, giving birth to new warriors. A soldier far from home, without country, ideal and a feminine image of reference—a model of perfection, an axis of divinity—immediately degenerates into a villain without honor. Conversely, if he is able to internalize an inner mystique and a feminine symbolism that balances the brutality he witness day after day, his spirit will be strengthened and his character ennoble. Sparta had no problems in this regard; Spartan women were the perfect counterpart of a good warrior.

Even marriage was tinged with violence. During the ceremony, the man, armed and naked, grabbed her arm firmly and brought the girl “by force” as she lowered her head. (According to Nietzsche, “The distinctive character of a man is will; and in a woman, submission.” In Spartan marriage this was truer than anywhere else.) This should not be interpreted in a literal sense of rapture, but in a metaphorical sense and ritual: a staging of Indo-European mythologies are numerous with references of robbery, kidnapping—and the subsequent liberation—of something holy that is necessary to win, earn the right to own it. The fire from the gods, the golden fleece, the apples of the Hesperides, the grail of Celtic and Germanic traditions and the sleeping Valkyrie are examples of such sacred images. Cherished ideals not to be delivered free but conquered by force and courage after overcoming difficult obstacles, and thus ensured that only the most courageous were able to snatch it and own it, while the weak and timid were disqualified in the fight.

On the other hand, can we not find a similarity between the Spartan marriage ritual and the Indo-Iranian sveyamvara marriage by abduction allowed to warriors, and in the case of the Sabine abducted by Latins in the origins of Rome, and the same type of marriage allowed to the old Cossacks? In the Indo-Aryan writing, the Mahabharata, we read how the hero Arjuna abducted Subhadra “as do the warriors,” marrying her. Again, it was not a literal rapture but rather the conquest of the sacred through respect and strength what rendered the sacred fall before the hero.

In Spartan marriage, then, we see how the Spartan woman was elevated to the status of a divine ideal and not given by her parents to a man chosen by them (as in other rituals of marriage, which makes the bride an object of barter), but the brave man had to earn her. In fact, in Sparta it was not allowed that parents had anything to do with the marital affairs of their offspring; it was the couple that decided their marriage, allowing that preferences and the healthy instincts of the youths would be unhindered, making it clear that to possess a woman of the category of the Spartan it was not enough wealth, parental consent, marriage arrangements, dialectics, seduction or false words. It was necessary to make an overwhelming impression; be robust and noble, be genetically worthy.

Also, the Spartan marriage ceremony—dark and almost sinister in its direct crudeness—is the height of the patriarchal warrior society, and one of the most eloquent expressions of patriarchy that governed in Sparta. Lycurgus sought to establish military paranoia and a perpetual environment of war even in marriage. Just as children had to procure their food by hunting and gathering and rapine, and pretending to be in the enemy zone, an adult man should also win his chosen one by pretending to be into fringe, hostile territory, “abducting her” in remembrance of a hard and dangerous time that was not kind for romance and lovers. This again made evident how little parents were involved in a plot like this: in ancient times, if they refused to consent to the marriage, the young man performed a daring raid and, with the complicity of his fiancée, “abducted her.”

With the Spartan marriage system it was also subtly implied that, as Nature teaches, not everyone was entitled to a female. To be eligible for this right it was necessary for a man to pass a test: eugenics, child rearing, education, entry into the Army Syssitias and the mutual fidelity of a young female belonging to the same call-up year, which in turn he gained through observation and knowledge at sporting events, popular and religious, and a long loving friendship whose latent purpose should remain hidden from the rest of society. Throughout all these phases the man conquered his beloved girl. The unconquered woman had to prove nothing. She chose her fiancé and had the say as to accept her future husband. Ultimately, it was she who willingly indulged in complicity, leaving herself to be ritually “kidnapped” by the man of her choice.

After the ritual, the bride was taken to the house of her in-laws. There they shaved her head and made her wore clothing like a man. Then she was left in a dark room, waiting for the arrival of the groom. All this is extremely difficult to understand for a modern Western mind and it is not from this point of view we should try to understand it, but putting us at the time, bearing in mind that both Spartan man and woman belonged to an Order.

This last—totally sordid—phase served to impress upon the newlyweds the notion that the secrecy and discretion of their relationship was not over, and that they had not yet earned the right to enjoy a normal marriage. For the woman it implied initiation, sacrifice and a new stage. She was stripped from her seduction skills and her awareness of being attractive. For the man, it was beneficial to make him appreciate what really mattered of his wife: not clothes, hair or ornaments but her body; her face and character.

Consuming an act in these gloomy conditions and absolutely hostile to romance and sexual arousal was for both the man and the woman the least imaginable stimulating, so that gradually they became accustomed to the physical sensations arising from the sexual act, but without the additional psychological stimuli such as a more feminine look in the woman and a gentler environment—stimuli that tend to boycott male stamina, moving him to abandon himself to pleasure and rest on his laurels. Therefore, this staging was not much inspiring sexually in short term, but instead was very stimulating in long-term in a subtle way: slowly, it was blown into the hearts of the lovers the longing for that which was not still allowed.

So, by the time a woman had re-grown abundant hair, and the pseudo-clandestineness of the relationship was dissipated over time, both male and female were well experienced adults who knew what they wanted and, despite it, had not suffered any loss in sexual desire but rather were more than ever prepared to appreciate and enjoy what meant a free physical relationship.

Lycurgus established that a man should be ashamed to be seen with his wife in loving attitudes so that the meeting took place in private and with greater intimacy and passion, and that the surrounding secrecy and hostility favored the magic of the union: the feeling of complicity and the true romance, which always has to have some secrets. (Plato said that holding hands and fondling should be the maximum carnal love shown in public.) The objective of this measure, too, was to promote mutual thirst for true knowledge, fascination, mystery, magic: the sacred short-circuit between man and woman, and—let’s say it—the curiosity of the forbidden, so that their relationship had no public at all, but a private matter, and to encourage that a man and a woman would not get tired of one another. The Spartan couple should have, then, a powerful sexuality that oozed from healthy bodies and pure spirits, resulting in a clean eroticism and a positive lust necessary for the preservation of the race. In the words of Xenophon:

He [Lycurgus] noticed, too, that, during the time immediately succeeding marriage, it was usual elsewhere for the husband to have unlimited intercourse with his wife. The rule that he adopted was the opposite of this: for he laid it down that the husband should be ashamed to be seen entering his wife’s room or leaving it. With this restriction on intercourse the desire of the one for the other must necessarily be increased, and their offspring was bound to be more vigorous than if they were surfeited with one another (Constitution of the Lacedaemonians, 1).

How, then, did the Spartans manage to be with their wives? In the Syssitias, a man stood quietly and left the room, ensuring that nobody saw him (at night it was forbidden to walk with a lighting of any kind, to promote the ability to move in the dark without fear and safely). He entered his home, where he found his wife and where it happened what had to happen. The man then returned to the Syssitia with his comrades in arms, wrapped in a secrecy that almost touched the squalor. Nobody noticed anything. The sexuality of the couple was strictly private, even furtive and pseudo-clandestine so that no person would interfere with it and make the relationship stronger and, to quote again Plutarch, that their minds were always “recent in love, to leave in both the flame of desire and complacency.”

Were Spartan relations normal, natural or desirable? No. Quite the opposite. They created a most unpleasant weather, far from corresponding with some sort of “ideal”. No sane person would want such a relationship as a way of seeking pleasure. For the Spartans, however, as a result of their peculiar idiosyncrasies, these things “worked”. And yet, we see that boredom, repetition, lack of curiosity and monotony, the real demons in modern couples (and not an infrequent cause of dissatisfaction, infidelity, breakups or perversions that emerge when breaking the routine) were uncommon in Spartan marriages.

Spartan privacy and discretion were, in fact, the opposite of the relations of our days: pure appearance and social desirability with a public, not private basis. Spartans understood this important issue and lived in conformity with it. They favored the meeting of men and women in popular events, but they kept loving relationships strictly private. (Millennia later, the SS also understood it, and on their tables of values they firmly stamped: “Maintain the mysterious appearance of love!” The strength of their love came from themselves, unlike the infantile current relationships whose fuel is the external world outside the couple, without which the couple is empty and cannot function.

Spartan Romanticism was the epitome of love in the Iron Age: love in a hostile area and in difficult times. Marriage relationships were designed for the exchange to be beneficial. Today, the marriage almost invariably castrates man, making him fat, cowardly, lazy, and turning the woman into a manipulative, hedonistic, whimsical and poisonous individual.

On the other hand, there was another controversial Spartan measure that had to do with the need to procreate. If a man began to grow old and knew a young man whose qualities admired, he could present him to his wife to beget robust offspring. The woman could cohabit with another man who accepted her, if he was of greater genetic value than her husband (i.e., if he was a better man). This was not considered adultery but a service to the race. Also, if a woman was barren or began to decline biologically, the husband was entitled to take a fertile woman who loved him, and he was not considered an adulterer. In Viking society (the kind of society that came from the ancient Dorians) if a woman was unfaithful with a man manifestly better than her husband, it was not considered adultery.

The above may seem sordid and primitive; it may seem an annulment of the individual or of the order, and “reduce a man to the status of cattle,” but with the strong desire of offspring in Sparta they cared little about selfish or individual desires. To the forces of Nature and race personal whims are unimportant; what matters is that the offspring are healthy and robust, and that the torrent of children is never extinguished. These peculiar measures, that in an undisciplined people would have provoked chaos, in the Spartans, used to discretion and order, did not cause any problems. On the other hand, we must avoid falling into the trap of thinking that all couples “got laid”. In the majority of cases both partners were healthy and fertile and did not need of any “assistance”.

What was considered the birth in Sparta in the context of this natural mindset? A good way to explain it is quoting an Italian Fascist slogan, “War is to the male what childbearing is to the female.” The duty of man was sacrificing his strength from day to day and shed his blood on the battlefield, and women’s to struggle to give birth and raise healthy children. Since their childhood that was the sacred duty they had been taught.

In this environment, a Spartan woman who refused to give birth would have been as unpopular as a Spartan man who refused to fight, for the woman who refuses to give birth sabotaged the sacrifice of the young warrior just as the man who refuses to defend home sabotaged the efforts of the young mother who gives birth. It would have been more than a sacrilege: a betrayal. Artemis, the most revered female deity in Sparta, was, among other things, the goddess of childbirth, and was invoked when the young women were giving birth. In any case, labor for Spartan women should not have been traumatic, first because since their childhood their bodies were hardened and they exercised the muscles that would help them give birth; secondly because they conceived their children while they were still young and strong, and thirdly because it gave birth under a happy and proud motivation of duty, aided by a knowledge and natural medicine confirmed by many generations of mothers and Spartan nurses.

The great freedom of women in Sparta did not imply that women were handed over leadership positions of power. The woman was not the driving, but the inspiring force; generating and conservative. She did not dominate but subtly influenced, strangely reaffirming the character of men. A woman could be a priestess or a queen, but not meddled in the affairs of political and warrior leadership, because that meant taking a role associated with the masculine side. The woman was a pure ideal that must at all costs be kept away from the dirty side of politics and war command, but always present in society and in the thought of the warrior, because that was where resided her mysterious power. It was in the mind of men where the woman became a conductive force, meaning memory-love (in terms of Minni) and inspiration.

To Gorgo, queen of Sparta, wife of king Leonidas, a foreign woman once said that only Spartan women kept any real influence over men, and the queen answered, “because we are the only ones who give birth to real men.” Again, they had influence over men, but not power. In ancient Scandinavian meetings, as an example of the value of the feminine influence, only married men were allowed to vote. The man was the one who made the decisions, but it was assumed that he was not complete until he had at his side a complementary, feminine spirit, a Woman who could transmit certain magic everyday, and inspired him with her reflections and only then he was allowed to vote. In practice, every marriage was a single vote. On the other hand, in the other Hellenic states the female presence was banished, thus unbalancing the mentality and behavior of the warrior, and finally facilitating the emergence of pederast homosexuality. The whole issue of Spartan femininity was really inconceivable in the rest of Greece.

peplodorio The Athenians called the Spartan women fainomérides (“those that teaches the thighs”) as a reproach of their freedom of dress. This was because the Spartans were still using the old Dorian peplos, which was open in the waist side. It was part of a women’s fashion, more comfortable and lighter than the female clothing in the rest of Greece: where fashions flourished of extravagant hairstyles, makeup, jewelry or perfumes: it was a fashion for healthy Spartan women. But the rest of Hellas, as far as women are concerned, was already infected with Eastern customs: which kept them permanently locked up at home, where their bodies weakened and sick minds developed. The Athenians themselves had never been able to conceive that women exhibited their nakedness in public, although men themselves often did. The Athenian poet Euripides (480-406 BCE) was shocked at the fact that the “daughters of the Spartans… leave home” and “mingle with men showing her thighs.”


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(*) The very image of Helen of Sparta has to be purified. Far from the common vision that Hollywood has shown us, her spirit became disordered by the outburst of Aphrodite. Helen, the highest ideal of Hellenic beauty and femininity, was kidnapped by the East, hence the remarkable swat of the Greeks. Upon her arrival in Troy, Helen recovered memory, recalled she was the queen of Sparta, was married to King Menelaus, and they had two daughters; and bitterly regretted and wept for her mistake.

Helen cursed her luck and Aphrodite by her deception, she considered herself captive despite being treated like a princess, and despised her “husband” Paris (as is evident when she contemptuously rejects him after having behaved like a coward before Menelaus, for whom she reserved her admiration). Lamenting her fate, she wished to be recovered by her lawful husband, as attested by the scene where she has her window in form of open arms as to communicate the permanence of her love. Once she was recovered for Greece, Helen returned to the Spartan throne with honors, serving as queen again, as seen in the Odyssey when Telemachus, son of Odysseus, goes to Sparta to inquire about the fate of his father. It is then that Penelope, wife of Odysseus and mother of Telemachus, laments that her son goes to Sparta, “the land of beautiful women.”

Semites and Vikings: no love lost

The following is the last part of Chapter 21 of
William Pierce’ book Who We Are:






One would expect to find a spiritual difference between a race bred a hundred generations in the marketplace, where survival depended primarily on a glib tongue and an eye for a bargain, and a race shaped by the killing winters of the North, accustomed to combat and hardship. This difference—the difference between the Jewish spirit and the White spirit—is manifested in the world around us in a thousand ways.

Perhaps nowhere has the contrast between the natural, healthy, adventurous spirit of our race and the spirit of the Jew been more sharply drawn, however, than in a couple of recent issues of the student newspaper published on the Los Angeles campus of California State College. In the first issue was printed a poem by Dr. Peter Peel, who teaches history there. The second issue contained a response to the poem from a Jew at the same college.

Here is the poem, which was titled “Goetterdaemmerung”:

When Spring lightly touches
With hand green and golden
The mountains and fjords,
Then shouts the sea rover,
“A-viking! A-viking!”

The hammers are busy
On weapon and harness.
Then flashes the broad blade
In every sea hamlet.
The dragon ships, thirsty
For bounding blue water,
Leap down to the seashore.

And Olaf of Norway
And Erik of Gotland
And Thorwald the Mighty,
Whose grandsire was Wotan,
Stand fast on the poop deck
With golden hair streaming,
With spear brightly glinting,
With eye fierce and blazing,
Sail out on the swan’s bath —
The grey widow-maker —
For England or Iceland,
Byzantium, Vinland,
Far land or ancient
And ripe for the plunder,
The burning of roof-trees,
The seizing of women,
The tooting of treasure,
The flowing of red blood,
And wine for the victors.

Ah, whence fled those great days,
The days of our fathers,
The days of the valiant,
Of gods and of heroes,
Or fair maids and foul dwarfs,
And lindworms and dragons,
Of Beowulf, Dietrich,
Strong Harald, grim Hagen,
Wolfhart and Siegfried,
The greathearts, the mighty?

Yea loathsome today is
The seed of their strong loins —
The petty, the small, the clod and
the crawler.

The music has gone from the souls of our people.
The thunder has vanished away with Valhalla.
Now meekness and weakness
And womanly virtues
Have shackled, degraded
And shamefully softened
The sons of our fathers,
The sons of the mighty.

And now have we traded
The lightning of storm gods,
The arms of Valkyries,
The halls of Valhalla,
The kiss of wish maidens,
For wings and a nightshirt,
A harp and a halo,
A psalmbook and psalter?
Oh, no, my Lord Bishop!

Hark, grey Galilean,
The Wolf Age is coming,
The great fimbul winter,
When all sick things perish.

A few days after this poem appeared, the following letter headed “Bloodthirsty Sickness,” showed up on the editorial page of the student newspaper:

Editor: The poem about the Vikings in the Nov. 25 issue by Peter H. Peel had real soul and beauty—the soul and the beauty of the bloodthirsty. Let it speak for itself:

With golden hair streaming,
With spear brightly glinting,
With eye fierce and blazing…
And ripe for the plunder,
The burning of roof-trees,
The seizing of women,
The looting of treasure,
The flowing of red blood,
And wine for the victors.

Murder! rape! loot, plunder blood and wine—the wanton destruction of the productive by bloodthirsty savages.

And what do these vicious predator-warriors denounce?

Now meekness and weakness
And womanly virtues
Have shackled, degraded
And shamefully softened
The sons of our fathers,
The sons of the mighty.

Yes, how could one be more degraded in the eyes of these savages than to become like those inferior creatures called women.

Beware you women, blacks, Latins and other lesser creatures. The Blonde Beast “With golden hair streaming” and warm, red blood dripping from his mighty sword shall rise again. Beware you weak and sick of all races for “The Wolf Age is coming… When all sick things perish.”

Meanwhile, I wait for the day when this bloodthirsty sickness of the Blonde Beast shall perish forever from the face of the earth.

—R.A. Klein

Vikings and Christianity (3)

Excerpted from the 21st article of William Pierce’s “Who We Are: a Series of Articles on the History of the White Race”:


The Vikings’ fighting spirit had been sapped by Christianity, but an even larger factor in their demise was their inability to keep in check their quarrels among themselves, combine their forces against outsiders, and thus match the growing power of kings in more unified lands than their own. Excessive individualism took its final toll.

Ever since the close of the Viking Age men in whose veins Viking blood still runs have dreamed of the freedom and the challenge and the glory of those bygone days. Perhaps nowhere is this better expressed than in a stanza from an anonymous Anglo-Saxon poem, The Wanderer:

What has become of the steed?
What has become of the warrior?
What has become of the seats of banquet?
Where are the joys of the hall?
Oh, for the bright cup!
Oh, for the mail-clad warrior!
Oh, for the glory of the prince!
How that time has passed away
And grown dark under the cover of night,
As if it had never been.



Semites and Vikings: No Love Lost

One would expect to find a spiritual difference between a race bred a hundred generations in the marketplace, where survival depended primarily on a glib tongue and an eye for a bargain, and a race shaped by the killing winters of the North, accustomed to combat and hardship. This difference—the difference between the Jewish spirit and the White spirit—is manifested in the world around us in a thousand ways.

Perhaps nowhere has the contrast between the natural, healthy, adventurous spirit of our race and the spirit of the Jew been more sharply drawn, however, than in a couple of recent issues of the student newspaper published on the Los Angeles campus of California State College. In the first issue was printed a poem by Dr. Peter Peel, who teaches history there. The second issue contained a response to the poem from a Jew at the same college.

Here is the poem, which was titled Goetterdaemmerung:

When Spring lightly touches
With hand green and golden
The mountains and fjords,
Then shouts the sea rover,
“A-viking! A-viking!”

The hammers are busy
On weapon and harness.
Then flashes the broad blade
In every sea hamlet.
The dragon ships, thirsty
For bounding blue water,
Leap down to the seashore.

And Olaf of Norway
And Erik of Gotland
And Thorwald the Mighty,
Whose grandsire was Wotan,
Stand fast on the poop deck
With golden hair streaming,
With spear brightly glinting,
With eye fierce and blazing,
Sail out on the swan’s bath—
The grey widow-maker—
For England or Iceland,
Byzantium, Vinland,
Far land or ancient
And ripe for the plunder,
The burning of roof-trees,
The seizing of women,
The tooting of treasure,
The flowing of red blood,
And wine for the victors.

Ah, whence fled those great days,
The days of our fathers,
The days of the valiant,
Of gods and of heroes,
Or fair maids and foul dwarfs,
And lindworms and dragons,
Of Beowulf, Dietrich,
Strong Harald, grim Hagen,
Wolfhart and Siegfried,
The greathearts, the mighty?

Yea loathsome today is
The seed of their strong loins—
The petty, the small, the clod and
the crawler.

The music has gone from the souls of our people.
The thunder has vanished away with Valhalla.
Now meekness and weakness
And womanly virtues
Have shackled, degraded
And shamefully softened
The sons of our fathers,
The sons of the mighty.

And now have we traded
The lightning of storm gods,
The arms of Valkyries,
The halls of Valhalla,
The kiss of wish maidens,
For wings and a nightshirt,
A harp and a halo,
A psalmbook and psalter?
Oh, no, my Lord Bishop!

Hark, grey Galilean,
The Wolf Age is coming,
The great fimbul winter,
When all sick things perish.

A few days after this poem appeared, the following letter [by R.A. Klein] headed “Bloodthirsty Sickness,” showed up on the editorial page of the student newspaper. The poem about the Vikings in the Nov. 25 issue by Peter H. Pee had real soul and beauty—the soul and the beauty of the bloodthirsty.

Let it speak for itself. [Klein wrote:]

“With golden hair streaming, With spear brightly glinting, With eye fierce and blazing… And ripe for the plunder, The burning of roof-trees, The seizing of women, The looting of treasure, The flowing of red blood, And wine for the victors.”

Murder! rape! loot, plunder blood and wine—the wanton destruction of the productive by bloodthirsty savages. And what do these vicious predator-warriors denounce?

“Now meekness and weakness And womanly virtues Have shackled, degraded And shamefully softened The sons of our fathers, The sons of the mighty.”

Yes, how could one be more degraded in the eyes of these savages than to become like those inferior creatures called women.

Beware you women, blacks, Latins and other lesser creatures. The Blond Beast “With golden hair streaming” and warm, red blood dripping from his mighty sword shall rise again. Beware you weak and sick of all races for “The Wolf Age is coming… When all sick things perish.”

Meanwhile, I wait for the day when this bloodthirsty sickness of the Blond Beast shall perish forever from the face of the earth.

Gitone’s magic

by Cesar Tort

Printer-friendly document: here

7,600 words (a shorter version of this article: here)



Recently I uploaded in this blog a PDF of a 63,000-word text, The Return of Quetzalcoatl, the fourth book of my Hojas Susurrantes. Only by means of introducing this totally unheard of field for understanding human psychology and history, “Psychohistory,” I can properly respond to Greg Johnson’s views on Greco-Roman homosexuality.

As Julian Jaynes saw in The Breakdown of The Bicameral Mind, Homeric Greeks were, psychologically, vastly different from historical Greeks. Semitic cultures were even more different. In the online edition of my Quetzalcoatl I refrained to reproduce this image for the simple reason that it would have meant retroprojection. In the image we see women, presumably the mothers, trying to rescue their children from a propitiatory child sacrifice to Moloch Baal. But in real life the parents themselves handed over their crying children to the assistants of the priest, hence the inflammatory sentence with which I ended my Quetzalcoatl (“In the final book of this work I’ll go back to my autobiography, and we shall see if after such grim findings mankind has the right to exist”).

In Hollywood such sort of retroprojections are ubiquitous in movies about the historical past. For instance, Australia, a pro-aboriginals film set before the Second World War, had an upset Nicole Kidman telling another white person, “No mother would leave her child!” when in real life, as recounted in my Quetzalcoatl, quite a few Australian abbos not only abandoned some of their babies, but killed and ate them (for scholarly references supporting this claim see my PDF).

Westerners, and incredibly, child abuse researchers included, have not awakened to the fact that there have been very dissimilar “psychoclasses” or ways of childrearing in the world; and that this has had enormous implications for the mental health of a people, primitive or modern. For example, in my Quetzalcoatl I said that Rhea hid Zeus and presented a stone wrapped in strips, which Cronus took as a swaddled baby and ate it. Cronus represents the pre-Homeric Greeks, the archaic Hellas. After the breakdown of the bicameral, or schizoid mind, historical Greeks considered barbarous the practice of child sacrifice, symbolized in Zeus’ successful rebellion against his filicidal father. Though they still practiced the exposure of unwanted babies, the historical Greeks at least stopped sacrificing them in horrible ways: a practice that their neighbors continued. Nonetheless, if films on both Homeric and post-Homeric Greeks were historically accurate, the exposure of babies, which was practiced on a gigantic scale even in Roman times, would be visually depicted.

Recently I saw two films that I had not watched for a long time. In the 1959 Hollywood interpretation of Ben-Hur starring Charlton Heston, Tiberius’ Rome and Jerusalem are idealized far beyond what those cities looked like in the times of Jesus. Think of how, to impress the audience with the grandeur of the Roman circus in a Hollywoodesque Palestine, for the chariot race sequence the director made it look as large as Constantinople’s circus! Conversely, in Fellini’s 1969 Satyricon, freely based on Petronius’ classic, the Roman Empire is oneirically caricaturized to the point that the film’s extreme grotesqueries bear no visual relationship whatsoever to the empire of historical time. Both extreme idealization and oneiric caricature constitute artistic ways to understand the soul of Rome. One may think that an Aristotelian golden mean may lie somewhere between Ben-Hur and Fellini-Satyricon, but not even in HBO’s Rome, a purportedly realistic TV series that claimed paying more attention to historical women, dared to show that such women abandoned their babies who died on the hills, roads and the next day were found under the frozen streets: a custom approved even by Plato and Aristotle.

Growing in a “late infanticidal” culture, to use Lloyd deMause’s term, makes members of that psychoclass greatly different compared to our modern western psychoclass. (One could easily imagine what a shock for the modern mind would represent the spectacle of white babies dying on the streets of Vermont, Bonn or Florence with nobody bothering to rescue them.) So different that I believe that the hostile takeover I do of deMause’s Psychohistory to deliver it to the nationalist community will revolutionize the understanding of history once it is properly digested and understood.

In my Quetzalcoatl I quoted psychohistorian Henry Ebel (no ellipsis added between unquoted sentences):

DeMause’s argument had a breathtaking sweep and grandeur such as we associate with the work of Hegel, Darwin and Marx. Moreover, it seemed to be a valid response and interpretation of a series of gruesome facts that had been consistently understated or suppressed by conventional historians. “The Evolution of Childhood” has proved a morsel too large, too complete, too assertive, and in many ways too grim for the historical profession to digest. Since adult styles and roles, including the academic and professional, are mainly denial-systems erected against those early needs and terrors, the academic consideration of deMause’s argument has been, understandably enough, of less than earthshaking intelligence.

Once we integrate Psychohistory to our view of history, it is easy to notice that when Greg Johnson talks of Greco-Roman homosexuality he does it as if it was similar to the mores of today’s world: consenting sex between adults. But if Jaynes and deMause are right, the peoples of the classical world inhabited an altogether distinct psychic universe, especially before Solon. So different that sometimes I even wonder if Francis Parker Yockey has a valid point when he wrote that the Italian Renaissance is sold as a link between two cultures that, according to him, have nothing in common.

A splendid example of such discontinuity is what André Gide called normal pederasty, the ancients’ infatuation for adolescents. Keep in mind that Gide did not condemn such customs. On the contrary, he considered his Corydon, published in 1924 and which received widespread condemnation, his most important work. However, since I can only understand the geist of a culture through the visual arts, before quoting Gide let me convey visually what “homo”-sexuality signified for the classical world through a couple of scenes of the movie Satyricon:

Cinematic experiences aside, what are scholars saying about what I call pseudo-homosexuality: pederasty (which must never be confused with pedophilia)? In the introduction to On Homosexuality: Lysis, Phaedrus, and Symposium, published by Prometheus Books, Eugene O’Connor wrote (again, no ellipsis added):

Benjamin Jowett’s introduction to his translation of Plato’s Symposium expresses prevalent Victorian, Edwardian, and even later attitudes, particularly in England and America, toward Greek homosexuality. Some excerpts from the introduction will illustrate this “clash of cultures.” Since Jowett’s day much has been done to counter and correct this willful distortion of ancient sexuality. We may now consult, for example, the more sober appraisals of K.J. Dover, Greek Homosexuality (1978), and Saara Lilja, Homosexuality in Republican and Augustan Rome (1983) to help us redress the oversights of earlier scholarship.

The composition of [Plato's] Symposium owes much to the Greek tradition of “banquet literature,” often a collection of informal discussions (in prose or verse) on various topics, including the power of love and the delights of young men and boys. Indeed, a whole body of homoerotic literature grew up around the themes of male beauty and how one ought to woo and win a boy.

The customary social pattern was this: a boy in his teens or, at any rate, a younger man (called an eromenos, or “beloved”) was sought out by an older male (called an erastes or “lover”), who might be already married. Women in classical Athens were kept in virtual seclusion from everyone but their immediate families and their domestic activities were relegated to certain “female” parts of the house. As a consequence, boys and young men—partly by virtue of their being seen, whether in the gymnasium, in the streets, or at a sacrifice (as in the Lysis)—became natural love-objects.

Strict rules of conduct bound both parties: adult males could face prosecution for seducing free-born youths, while Athenian boys and young men could be censured for soliciting sexual favors for money. That would make them in effect equal to courtesans, who were hired companions and lacked citizen status.

This erastes-eromenos (lover-beloved) relationship, although it was sexual and in many ways comparable to typical, male-female relations, with the man assuming the dominant role, was meant ideally to be an educative one. The older man instilled in the younger—in essence, “made him pregnant with”—a respect for the requisite masculine virtues of courage and honor.

Socrates in the Phaedrus describes how the soul of the pederast (literally, “a lover of youths”) who is blessed with philosophy will grow wings after a certain cycle of reincarnations. In recent centuries, the word “pederast” has come to be viewed with opprobrium, fit only to describe child molesters. But in ancient Greece the word carried no such negative connotation, and was employed in a very different context.

Surrounded as he often was by the brightest young men of Athens, Socrates jokingly compared himself, in Xenophon’s Symposium, to a pander or procurer. These are witty, humorous characterizations of Socrates to be sure; yet, in the end, Socrates was the best erastes of all; the loving adult male teacher who sought to lead his aristocratic eromenoi (male beloveds) on the road to virtue.

I have read Xenophon’s Symposium and on chapter VIII it does look like Socrates and others had intense crushes with the eromenoi.

In his Corydon Gide shares the Platonic view that what he calls “normal pederasty” (to distinguish it from child molestation) is a propitious state of the mind to shed light on truth and beauty. In the last pages of his slim book Gide concludes: “I believe that such a lover will jealously watch over him, protect him, and himself exalted, purified by this love, will guide him toward those radiant heights which are not reached without love.” In the very final page Gide adds that “From thirteen to twenty-two (to take the age suggested by La Bruyere) is for the Greeks the age of loving friendship, of shared exaltation, of the noblest emulation,” and that only after this age the youth “wants to be a man”: marrying a woman.

But not only I need visuals to properly understand a culture. Narrative is fundamental too as a way to get into the unfathomed deeps of a bygone world. Below, a tale recounted by an old poet, Eumolpus in the first long novel that Western literature knows, Petronius’ Satyricon:

“When I went to Asia,” Eumolpus began, “as a paid officer in the Quaestor’s suite, I lodged with a family at Pergamus. I found my quarters very pleasant, first on account of the convenience and elegance of the apartments, and still more so because of the beauty of my host’s son. I devised the following method to prevent the master of the house entertaining any suspicions of me as a seducer. Whenever the conversation at table turned on the seduction of handsome boys, I showed such extreme indignation and protested with such an air of austerity and offended dignity against the violence done to my ears by filthy talk of the sort, that I came to be regarded, especially by the mother, as one of the greatest of moralists and philosophers. Before long I was allowed to take the lad to the gymnasium; it was I that directed his studies, I that guided his conduct, and guarded against any possible debaucher of his person being admitted to the house.

“It happened on one occasion that we were sleeping in the dining-hall, the school having closed early as it was a holiday, and our amusements having rendered us too lazy to retire to our sleeping-chambers. Somewhere about midnight I noticed that the lad was awake; so whispering soft and low, I murmured a timid prayer in these words, ‘Lady Venus, if I may kiss this boy, so that he know it not, tomorrow I will present him with a pair of doves.’ Hearing the price offered for the gratification, the boy set up a snore. So approaching him, where he lay still making pretense to be asleep, I stole two or three flying kisses. Satisfied with this beginning, I rose betimes next morning, and discharged my vow by bringing the eager lad a choice and costly pair of doves.

“The following night, the same opportunity occurring, I changed my petition, ‘If I may pass a naughty hand over this boy, and he not feel it, I will present him for his complaisance with a brace of the best fighting cocks ever seen.’ At this promise the child came nestling up to me of his own accord and was actually afraid, I think, lest I might drop asleep again. I soon quieted his uneasiness on this point, and amply satisfied my longings, short of the supreme bliss, on every part of his beautiful body. Then when daylight came, I made him happy with the gift I had promised him.

“As soon as the third night left me free to try again, I rose as before, and creeping up to the rascal, who was lying awake expecting me, whispered at his ear, ‘If only, ye Immortal Gods, I may win of this sleeping darling full and happy satisfaction of my love, for such bliss I will tomorrow present the lad with an Asturian of the Macedonian strain [a horse], the best to be had for money, but always on the condition he shall not feel my violence.’ Never did the stripling sleep more sound. So first I handled his plump and snowy bosoms, then kissed him on the mouth, and finally concentrated all my ardors in one supreme delight. Next morning he sat still in his room, expecting my present as usual. Well! you know as well as I do, it is a much easier matter to buy doves and fighting cocks than an Asturian; besides which, I was afraid so valuable a present might rouse suspicion as to the real motives of my liberality. After walking about for an hour or so, I returned to the house, and gave the boy a kiss—and nothing else. He looked about inquiringly, then threw his arms round my neck, and ‘Please, sir!’ he said, ‘where is my Asturian?’

“‘It is hard,’ I replied, ‘to get one fine enough. You will have to wait a few days for me to fulfill my vow.’

“The boy had wits enough to see through my answer, and his resentment was betrayed by the angry look that crossed his face.

“Although by this breach of faith I had closed against myself the door of access so carefully contrived, I returned once more to the attack. For, after allowing a few days to elapse, one night when similar circumstances had created just another opportunity for us as before, I began, the moment I heard the father snoring, to beg and pray the boy to be friends with me again —that is, to let me give him pleasure for pleasure, adding all the arguments my burning concupiscence could suggest. But he was positively angry and refused to say one word beyond, ‘Go to sleep, or I will tell my father.’ But there is never an obstacle so difficult audacity will not vanquish it. He was still repeating, ‘I will wake my father,’ when I slipped into his bed and took my pleasure of him in spite of his half-hearted resistance. However, he found a certain pleasure in my naughty ways, for after a long string of complaints about my having cheated and cajoled him and made him the laughing-stock of his school-fellows, to whom he had boasted of his rich friend, he whispered, ‘Still I won’t be so unkind as you; if you like, do it again.’

“So forgetting all our differences, I was reconciled to the dear lad once more, and after utilizing his kind permission, I slipped off to sleep in his arms. But the stripling was not satisfied with only one repetition, all ripe for love as he was and just at the time of life for passive enjoyment. So he woke me up from my slumbers, and, ‘Anything you’d like, eh?’ said he. Nor was I, so far, indisposed to accept his offer. So working him the best ever I could, to the accompaniment of much panting and perspiration, I gave him what he wanted, and then dropped asleep again, worn out with pleasure. Less than an hour had passed before he started pinching me and asking, ‘Eh! why are we not at work?’ Hereupon, sick to death of being so often disturbed, I flew into a regular rage, and retorted his own words upon him; ‘Go to sleep,’ I cried, ‘or I’ll tell your father!’”

“Enlivened by this discourse,” continues Encolpius, the narrator of Satyricon, “I now began to question my companion…” (for an introduction to this most classic novel, see my recent entry in another of my blogs). However, the erastes-eromenos relationship was not always as hilariously picaresque as Petronius depicts it. In my previous response to Johnson, when I added the image of a terracotta statuette of Zeus carrying off Ganymede, I included no references. Here I’ll add a couple of them. In the academic work that O’Connor mentioned above, Greek Homosexuality, K.J. Dover writes:

Ephoros, writing in the mid-fourth century, gives a remarkable account (F149) of ritualised homosexual rape in Crete. The erastes gave notice of his intention, and the family and friends of the eromenos did not attempt to hide the boy away, for that would have been admission that he was not worthy of the honour offered him by the erastes. If they believed that the erastes was unworthy, they prevented the rape by force; otherwise they put a good-humoured and half-hearted resistance, which ended with the erastes carrying off the eromenos to a hide-out for two months. At the end of that period the two of them returned to the city (the eromenos was known, during the relationship, as parastatheis, ‘posted beside…’ or ‘brought over to the side of…’) and the erastes gave the eromenos expensive presents, including clothing which would thereafter testify to the achievement of the eromenos in being chosen; he was kleinos, ‘celebrated’, thanks to his philetor, ‘lover’. [p. 189]

John Boswell, a homosexual professor at Yale University who died at forty-seven of complications from AIDS, specialized in the relationship between homosexuality and Christianity. Boswell abstains to mention the word “rape” which Dover unabashedly used in his treatise published by Harvard University. But in Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe Boswell describes in less academic, and more colorful, language the legal arrangements regarding such abductions:

Apart from the abduction aspect, this practice has all the elements of European marriage tradition: witness, gifts, religious sacrifice, a public banquet, a chalice, a ritual change of clothing for one partner, a change of status for both, even a honeymoon.

The abduction is less remarkable, by the standards of the times, that it seems. The ruler of the gods, Zeus, mandated a permanent relationship with a beautiful Trojan prince, Ganymede, after abducting him and carrying him off to heaven; they were the most famous same-sex couple of the ancient world, familiar to all its educated residents. Zeus even gave Ganymede’s father a gift—the equivalent of a dower or “morning gift”. The inhabitants of Chalcis honored what they believed to be the very spot of Ganymede’s abduction, called Harpagion (“Place of Abduction”). Moreover, as late as Boccaccio (Decameron, Day 5, Tale 1) an abduction marriage that takes place seems to find its most natural home in Crete.

Heterosexual abduction marriage was also extremely common in the ancient world—especially in the neighboring state of Sparta, with which Crete shared its constitution and much of its social organization, where it was the normal mode of heterosexual marriage. It remained frequent well into modern times, and even under Christian influence men who abducted women were often only constrained to marry them, and not punished in any other way. In a society where women were regarded as property and their sexuality their major asset, by the time an abducted woman was returned most of her value was gone, and the more public attention was focused on the matter the less likely it was she would ever find a husband. And in a moral universe where the abduction of Helen (and of the Sabine women) provided the foundation myths of the greatest contemporary political entities, such an act was as likely to seem heroic as disreputable. The Erotic Discourses attributed to Plutarch begin with stories of abduction for love, both heterosexual and homosexual. [pp. 91-93]

This last sentence about the foundation myths of both the ancient Hellas and Rome is absolutely central to understand their moral universe. However, Boswell omits to say that Zeus would be considered a bisexual god with strong heterosexual preferences—Hera and many other consorts—according to current standards, in no way a “gay” god.

Furthermore, unlike the same-sex unions of today, the erastes-eromenos relationship wasn’t meant to be permanent. The continuance of an erotic relationship was disapproved. In dramatic contrast to contemporary “gay marriages,” romantic relationships between adult coevals were disrespected. In fact, the former eromenos might well become an erastes himself with a younger youth when he got older. Boswell, who strove to use classic scholarship to support the so-called “gay marriage” of our times, overstates his case in other passages of Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe. What struck me the most of his study was that on page 66 he misled the readers by claiming that the Satyricon protagonists, Encolpius and Gitone, are simply a same-sex couple. I have read a couple of translations of the hilarious Satyricon and it is all too clear that Boswell omitted two fundamental facts: Gitone’s age, an underage teen for today’s standards, and another lover of Gitone, Ascyltus (who also appears in my embedded clip).

Classic pederasty did not resemble at all what currently is called the “gay movement.” The causes of pederasty are to be found not only what O’Connor said above: women being kept in seclusion and men transferring their affections to younger boys. More serious was something that neither O’Connor nor Dover or Boswell dared to say. Infanticidal Greece and Rome produced a surplus of males as a result of the exposure of babies, especially baby girls. As I said in my Quetzalcoatl, it was not until 374 AD that the emperor Valentinian I, a Christian, mandated to rear all children. Again, what “gay” apologists like Boswell fail to understand is that that was a psychoclass distinct from our own, since for modern westerners it is unthinkable to expose baby girls. However, in my own version of Psychohistory, my educated guess is that the Athenians should have treated the children well enough to allow the explosion of arts, philosophies and policies that we have inherited.



Alice Miller’s Breaking Down the Wall of Silence and, more comprehensibly, my own Hojas Susurrantes, introduce a category that potentially could revolutionize our understanding of ourselves. There exist hells at home where, psychically, children suffer far more than the adult experience in concentration camps: experiences far more destructive for the mind and the soul of the abused child than what the common prisoner suffers. However, without assimilating our central message, what I am about to say will neither be appreciated nor understood.

There must be legitimate cases of pederasty: those that help the abused teenager escape the homes of schizophrenogenic parents: something that totally and absolutely escaped deMause’s approach to Psychohistory.

Some clinicians say that abused adolescents often dream a window of escape from their homes. For a long time, but this is the first time that I commit myself to writing it down, I have harbored the idea that, thanks to that window of escape, mental health grew exponentially in Ancient Greece. After all, Greek pederasty was the exact opposite of the Christian incarnation of it as performed in secrecy by the priests and, until recent times, without any warning provided to the unsuspecting kid. Conversely, in the Greek and Latin world the “lovers of youths” were out in the open, in the Palestra, Gymnasium or even in homely tutorship with parents, friends and acquaintances warning the budding boy about the satyrs, or older males of dubious reputation—something that never happened in Christendom.

I have said that without grasping the concept of schizophrenogenic parents the point I am trying to make will be incomprehensible. To complicate things further, in our culture blaming parents for the mental disorders of their children is such a heresy that a whole profession, biological psychiatry, has been created to conceal the work of genuine researchers of mental disorders (see my article “Unfalsifiability in psychiatry and licit drugging of white children”). But apparently it was not such a taboo in Pericles’ Athens. I think of Euripides’ plays Iphigenia and Electra, the former magnificently taken to the silver screen by Greek director Michael Cacoyannis and the latter a play I watched translated in a theatre representation. Succinctly, Agamemnon sacrificed his daughter Iphigenia and his wife Clytemnestra drove another of her daughters, Electra, mad: perfect examples of what in my book I call soul-murderers, parents who schizophrenize or kill their children. If the modern mind could break the taboo that the ancient tragedians started to break before their suicidal Peloponnesian War, under this new perspective of the human mind could we use Gide’s phrase “defense of pederasty” in a sense that Gide never imagined? Analogously, in Sparta, the Lykourgos code forbid sexual relations between erastes and eromenos. Could this be related to the sterility of science and the arts in the virile Sparta compared to its twin sister, Athens? And more importantly, could it be possible that, centuries later, the abolition of the erastes-eromenos institution by Christian emperors resulted in a psychogenic regression at the beginning of the Dark Ages (to understand this question properly one must first grasp the psychohistorical concept of “psychoclass”)?

At present, the trauma model of mental disorders (i.e., no bullshit about blaming the child’s brain for the parents’ deeds as is done in the medical model) is not accepted either by the academia or the general culture. But given the basics of developmental psychology and attachment theory, perhaps only those who followed Gide’s words—“such a lover will jealously watch over him, protect him”—would be able to open a genuine affective window, conferring the victim the ability to escape not only the schizophrenogenic parent but the non-schizogenic, though neurotic and engulfing mother as well and helping him to develop a sound mind.

But could it be possible that in real life sustaining an abused teenager until he reaches maturity could only happen in a world where poetry and sculpture manifested a predilection for adolescent bodies? Gide claims that bucolic poetry started to sound phony when the poet loved the pastor no more. Even Nietzsche, who abhorred Plato, wrote in How To Philosophize With a Hammer that Plato “says with an innocence possible only for a Greek, not a Christian, that there would be no Platonic philosophy at all if there were not such beautiful youths in Athens: it is only their sight that transposes the philosopher’s soul into an erotic trance, leaving it no peace until it lowers the seed of all exalted things into such beautiful soil.”

This said, I hasten to add that it is not possible to turn the clock back to the sexual mores of Greece and Rome. I believe that Yockey was right: cultures, like men, have souls and die. The simply fact is that the infanticidal psychoclass does not exist in the West anymore, and hence there is no actual lack of women for a legitimate transference of Eros towards the creatures that resemble the fair sex the most: the ephebes. In other words, what gay apologists like Boswell try to do, using classical scholarship to support the LGBT movement, is nonsense. It reminds me those silly Mexicans who, after centuries that the sacrificial institution was abolished, try to imitate the Aztec custom by means of using sugar skulls instead of the real decapitated skulls used as trophies in pre-Columbian Mesoamerica, believing that they are “rescuing a tradition.” We should never forget that facts of importance in history occur twice: the first time as tragedy, the second as farce. This may be applied to both the incorrigible indigenistas and the apologists of gay marriage among grown-up coevals in the contemporary world.

In our times the erastes-eromenos institution could only be restored as a substitute of the abusive parent, but not for the healthier families. Psychogenically—this term understood in the sense of the evolution of the psyche and society—, Europe in the eighteenth-century England was more integrated than the Europe where Greek and Latin were the official languages. In the modern West the exposure of babies had been abandoned and Christianity prohibited the most destructive aspects of the Dionysian excesses in the classical world, like those parades with gigantic phalluses where even the virtuous, married women celebrated on the streets.

But let me respond in advance a few issues that the readers of this article may take with my views:

Tough Question #1: If you claim that heterosexuality is healthier than homosexuality and at the same time promote the YouTube clip of this cute adolescent, Gitone, how would you deal with a Gitonesque son of yours?

In the coming ethnostate, citizenship will be gradated. If my “Gitonesque” son had homosexual preferences I would not reprimand him severely in his teens or even early twenties. But by his middle and late twenties the laws of the Republic would gradually make a dent in his mind. By his thirties, he had to be heterosexually married to a woman of breeding age for the couple obtaining an A- or B-class citizenship. Deterrents such as laws that permit no claiming of any inheritance in cases of overt, permanent homosexual behavior, but getting a D-class citizenship instead, would be more than enough. I disagree with Harold Covington’s idea of using psychiatry to repress overt, permanent homosexual behavior in the coming Republic, and my second book of Hojas Susurrantes demonstrates beyond reasonable doubt that psychiatry is a fraudulent profession. (But never mind Uncle Harold. On The Day we will use a public rope for bringing the wildest, rainbow boys to justice!)

And speaking of the coming ethno-state, if the demographic winter caused by a feminism run amok gets really nasty—and I mean finding us in the necessity of raiding the enemy country, Amerikwa, to abduct Sabine women in order to found families—, as a desperate measure we may also will have to resort to the massive cloning of the reluctant nymphs and nymphets. On the other hand, the cloning of the most beautiful ephebos, such as Gitone, at an industrial scale makes me nervous, as I will try to explain in the following paragraphs.

It is true that in Arthur C. Clarke’s first novella, Against the Fall of Night—my favorite among Clarke’s novels—, in seemingly two ageless cities shielded from the worldwide desert, Lys and Diaspar in the year 10 billion AD, the impression the reader gets is that in those isolated oasis only whites existed: beautiful females and androgynous males. Non-whites and almost all of today’s species, plant and animal, had become extinct. Like Diaspar, in Maxfield Parrish’s 1913 murals of The Florentine Fete, The Garden of Opportunity, with handsome youths walking in an Arcadian location for heterosexual courtship, males are depicted almost as feminine as the young women (the apparently inexplicable images for this blog look better in my other blog in English, Fallen Leaves).

I am most curious about what happened to Max Born, the actor who played Gitone in the Fellini film. (I do confess that, when I saw the movie at seventeen, I found his looks rather stunning.) If Born is still with us (he would be sixty years old!) I wouldn’t mind having his genes for ages frozen for the creation of a couple of ephebes in a Diaspar-like Utopia. However, as I see it, it is the distant future what we also see in The Garden of Opportunity: a time when, after a thousand-year imperial Reich, the problem of competition between the ethnic groups had been resolved in favor of the only race that inherited the Earth. Only then could it be permissible, according to my standards, to clone ephebes.

Back to the real world. With millions of non-whites with high IQs, especially hostile Jews, in no way can we afford ultimate dolls like a young Born massively cloned. That would be historically premature. What we need are ruthless soldiers imbued with Roman severitas and, furthermore, as Guillaume Faye has eloquently stated, above all we need hypermorality: the Nietzschean ethics of difficult times.

What motivated me to write this article was not only what Johnson said about homosexuality, but also the (degenerate to my mind) music and movie tastes of the broader nationalist community. My forte is not writing, but a peculiar understanding of visual arts and music. So much so that, as to the seventh art is concerned, I consider myself as talented as Alfonso Cuarón, the director of The Prisoner of Azkaban and Children of Men (Cuarón and I were born about the same time in the same town).

I share some of Johnson’s anti-Christian sentiments, even when he said in one of his Counter-Currents threads that he will never include bullshit about a dead Jew on a stick, which I guess offended a Christian friend who stopped commenting at that site. But Johnson is no “total autobiographer.” In contrast, in Hojas Susurrantes I recount an unimaginable tragedy that befell on my family that cannot be conveyed in few words. Elsewhere I confessed just the tip of the iceberg of that tragedy: that at seventeen I constantly had themes from Mozart’s Requiem stuck in my head in an abusive school. This was an earworm synchronized with the religious metamorphosis that was taking place in my mind, the change from the stage of perceiving God as the loving dad of my St. Francis to the vindictive God of The Day: my abusive, introjected Father. Once my religious agonies were over, I could listen Requiems no more and not even other sacred music. (Only in this sense I can empathize with those who turned over to the dark side of pop, frivolous or hedonistic music.) But now that the fear of eternal damnation as an internal persecutor, or Dementor to use the symbol of the soulless creatures in The Prisoner of Azkaban, is gone, which psychological trick can I use to like sacred music again?

I have discovered a way. However, to convey my most intimate subjectivity I’ll have to indulge a little in a thought experiment.


Let’s imagine for a moment that I was not abused at home and that presently I am a famed film director like Cuarón. Let’s suppose that, being fairly well off, after Jared Taylor’s conferences were sabotaged in the previous two years I would invite him and all conference participants, both speakers and non-speakers, to my large mansion somewhere in the Northwest coast of the United States to celebrate the yearly conference.

When entering the property, way before the conference reserved for the ballroom, I prepared the participants a little surprise. The incomers are now seeing in an outdoor, circular place slightly above the ground meant to accommodate leisure activities, two singers, a male soprano and a male contralto interpreting Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater.

Visualize the background with a string orchestra and imagine that the soprano is… none other than Gitone! Every time that the adolescent soprano reaches the highest notes he lifts his eyes toward the heavens. His song is full of mannerisms typical of those actors in intimate contact with God, but in the middle of a purely pagan environment with the color of his eyes of a more intense blue than the sky-blue above him and the line of the sea behind both singers, in sharp contrast to Gitone’s dark hair and nude feet touching directly the solid flagstone at the middle of the mansion’s garden (listen to my 6-minute selection of Pergolesi’s music here).

That would be Gitone’s magic. He has thus inspired me to revisit sacred music after the soul-murdering tragedy that destroyed my family and that occurred when I had exactly his age.

Forget the academic content of the conferences that are now taking place indoors, in the ballroom. During the 37 minutes that last the twelve sections of the Stabat, still at the mansion’s outdoors even the most conservative attendants, after gluing their gaze onto the soprano for more than half an hour, start harboring truly unchristian, Dionysian thoughts. Eros is the universe’s dialectic force, and the visual experience to the sound of religious music moves them all, even the non-white nationalists present, to rediscover an elemental thumos to fight for a race so pristinely white as the alabastrine skin of the ephebe.

But then, a nationalist liberal could ask me the…

Tough Question #2: Chechar: Aren’t you ashamed that beside this subliminal fantasy of yours in one of your recent threads you homophobically ranted about “genocidal rage” against homos like you?

I am not a homo for the simple reason that I’d find repugnant any contact with a masculine face, and its body. And no: I am not ashamed for what I said in that thread at all.

Precisely because they try to imitate them, queers represent a blasphemous insult to the nymphs and the ephebes: the holy spirit of life according to my philosophy. Faggots are like massive bears with the heart of a butterfly. Comparing Gitone with any of them is like comparing a vulgar, Felliniesque, fat harlot with Botticelli’s Venus at the top of this blog.

I feel the so-called gay movement as if an Australopithecus africanus, after touching the black monolith of 2001: A Space Odyssey, has a glimpse of the mysterium tremendum of the universe. Alas, unlike the film this ape immediately fancies himself as the astronaut Dave Bowman ready for the second leap forward in the path to Overman. Or even worse: he believes that he now wears a white miniskirt like the one that Ascyltus threw over Gitone in the embedded clip, and he further believes that the other apes will now consider this still primitive, apeish missing link as if he was a consecrated soprano of the future worth to listen and contemplate. Nowadays, it does not occur to these Australopithecuses that a huge, four-and-a-half million leap forward is necessary for that specific dream become true, or that presently only the androgynous ephebes, premature embryos of a yet not verified future, have the right of homosexuality.

But perhaps it would be the most conservative nationalist the one who asks me the filthiest question of all…

Tough Question #3: Why are you promoting this sort of homoerotism with that video and photo of a boy, you pervert?

With this sort of question you are projecting onto me your own perversions: what I call the Sin against the Holy Ghost—an unforgivable sin that, a few years ago, moved me to completely severe ties with my former colleagues on child abuse studies. Contrary to your projections, my point of view about “homosexuality,” if it may be called so (I don’t have homo friends but I doubt that they fancy Gitone), is innocuous. It has nothing to do with either a traditionalist condemnation of the behavior and much less with the so-called LGTB movement. I am located light years apart from both.

To find an ephebe is like searching a needle in dozens of haystacks. According to my own definition, an ephebe is a leptosomatic (see Gitone’s chest in the above pic) adolescent of such androgynous beauty as to make him undistinguishable from a nymph: a beauty that evaporates when he reaches manhood (either in Plato or Xenophon I read how a Greek mocked another who was still attached to a lad who already had beards). This esthetic bar is, purposely, unrealistically high. So high actually that Italian filmmakers—androgynous beauty seems to be an alien concept for American directors—have had enormous difficulties in the casting process to find genuine ehpebes.

Luchino Visconti’s search of Tadzio for his Death in Venice was so agonizing that he had to travel out of his native Italy through several countries until he found Bjorn Andersen in Sweden. Similarly, by pure chance an assistant of Fellini discovered Max Born, who eventually played the character of Gitone in the mentioned Satyricon, in London’s Chelsea living as a local hippy. My concept of “ephebe” is such an obvious veiled homage to women that in the 1979 film Ernesto, where a handsome adolescent male is seduced by an androgynous ephebe, the director Salvatore Samperi did not bother to do any agonizing casting outside Italy. He simply chose a girl, Lara Wendel, to play both the roles of the ephebe Ilio and his twin sister Rachele (I was very much surprised to discover this after thirty years of watching the film).

But my hypothetical, nasty interlocutor would interrupt me to rudely ask again: Don’t go off in tangents. Stick to the point: Why are you promoting this homoerotism with images of underagers and your little “Gedankenexperiment”?

Mark my words, punk: Because I want to destroy the self-christened “gay movement” with the same vehemence that I want to destroy the “feminist movement” —and the degenerate music and film industry that has been, spiritually, interwoven in the creation of both.

Have you heard the Hegelian word Aufheben my bigoted friend? The street man moves in comfort category zones such as the hetero thesis and its homo antithesis. I believe that’s naïve. The verb Aufheben translated to English means to sublate: the suppression and assimilation of both, the previous thesis and antithesis. This is the apparently contradictory implication of preserving and changing an ethos just as, by means of aufhebenizing my previous phobia of sacred music when mixing it with the most profane love, I have just created a new, non-Christian entity where sacred music might be, again, fully appreciated albeit in a thoroughly pagan milieu. While Hegel used that verb in his philosophy of history, this is my proposed myth:

Mature, aufhebenized hetero nationalists may try to destroy the homo antithesis not by combating it directly, but by assimilating its luminous side and by turning homosexuality into almost heterosexuality through the contemplation of beauty among those rarest specimens that look like a mixture between humans, and angels. This is exactly what I pretended to do with my Quetzalcoatl, or Prolegomena For a Psychohistory of The Future that will only be fully developed in the ethnostate: destroying Christianity by means of aufhebenizing it, by assimilating its central, unconscious message and transforming it into a secular science.

Psychohistory explains what conventional historians can’t. For example, many years ago my father challenged me with a question: What galvanized the first Christians to the point of choosing martyrdom? The answer is: the overcoming of the infanticidal psychoclass. Christianity’s unconscious message is that when we murder or crucify our innocent child, we murder or crucify God. Alas, presently Christianity, and a traitorous secular Christianity catalyzed by the Jews, have metamorphosed the symbolic empathy toward the crucified Son into a deranged altruism for a New Jesus: the dispossessed races, to the point that whites now face extinction.

Michael O’Meara said that only a myth would galvanize the white race. But I believe he is wrong in believing that Christianity, now a Red Giant star soon to become a white dwarf, will play a role in its creation. In The Philosophy of Beauty Roger Scruton states that beauty can be another name for religion. Only the divine physiognomies that we, the mortals, cannot reach may drag the human soul into the asymptotic axis of the spiritual with actually never reaching the infinite. Ultimate aesthetic catharsis must be sought in the inner assimilation of the distant figure of Beatrice (for me, that is the “ephebe” that stunned me thirty years ago but that, in real life, the actor turned out to be an actress). The same can be said of a consecrated director seeking for Tadzio in several countries in order to capture his beauty for eternity, but not for sleeping with him. That would not only have meant the corruption of the fourteen year-old archangel, but making a fool of oneself like the German professor gazing at Tadzio from afar with black drops of hair-ink mixed with sweat running through a ridiculous made-up face under the sun of a Venetian beach. For unfathomable laws of the universe, unlike Zeus we cannot possess Ganymede and have a happy life after that. Even if we were as young and handsome as Encolpius, Xenophon warns us that such level of passion would drive us totally mad. And let’s not forget the Phaedrus’ comparing the fondness of an erastes for his eromenos to the fondness of wolves for lambs. Moreover, according to my own definition, with only a handful of ephebes in the world, when our object of forbidden love leaves us for the arms of another erastes, even the blond Encolpius ends up contemplating the knife…

I imagine modifying the Northwest Republic tricolor flag by means of placing the colors horizontally and adding the full image of the Garden of Opportunity in its middle. Not because in our search for the inexplicable superiority of the Venusinian we males should try to imitate Gitone or Tadzio, which is impossible. But because only the unreachable archetype of the eternal feminine will lead the white race to the Absolute.

Lycanthropy

or

How will the Castilian Wolf deal
with Little Red Riding Hoods
after the crash

The most paradoxical thing about women is that, while the fairest specimens of Aryan females look indeed like the crown of the evolution physically, if you empower them the race goes extinct. They simply refuse to reproduce. In fact, all of the present demographic winter looks like a typical women’s shit test writ large:

If you let my whims run amok with runaway feminism your little genes are going extinct. Have a little respect of yourself you pathetic eunuch. Take heed of how nymphs and nymphets were fair game when the first Romans faced extinction and resorted to the abduction of the Sabine women. After the racial wars in a Mad Max-like world, will you have the balls to abduct me and convert me into your legit wife, with lots and lots of kids you pussycat, or will you let the niggers do the job and turn America into Northern Brazil?

Every time I watch how a drunk Clarke Gable handled Vivien Leigh during that famous scene of Gone with the Wind, carrying her up the large stairs in his arms and telling her, “This is one night you’re not turning me out,” I shake my head imagining the non-lycanthrope nationalist gentlemen, you know, the AltRight types. (For the interregnum they’re ok, but during and after the racial wars we’ll need real wolves chasing after Little Reds.)

Gable passed the test. Leigh awakened the next morning with a look of pleasure for having been “raped” and being put, on the marital bed, in her rightful place. But it makes me wonder. Like the ancient Romans seeking wives (after being fed by a she-wolf) in order to found families, will 21st century nationalists pass the test after the rule of law collapses?

An ongoing discussion at Counter-Currents moves me to reproduce the following article, “The Future of White Women: A Speculation” written by William Ventvogel eight years ago. However radical they may appear to conservatives, present-day white nationalists are still trapped in the non-lycanthropic, bourgeoisie box, and unlike Ventvogel very few are willing to think outside it. Fortunately, the dollar is going to crash in the near future. You better be prepared psychologically to receive our unwelcome bite, turning yourself into Canis lupus with regard to the coming treatment of women, once the interregnum after 1945 is, finally, over.

Ventvogel wrote:





The ugly fact is that throughout history women have been objects of barter. This is rooted in harsh conditions that abated barely two centuries ago. The women of the West—White women— generally had it better and were the first to be elevated above commodity—and by their own men. Their ascent to their positions of market‐competitor and leader today correlates to technological ascent. By “ascent” I mean the increasing productivity‐per‐unit, and decreasing cost, of technology. Technology has nearly erased harsh conditions in most areas of the West and allowed White women to participate in affairs—even dominate. No longer does a White woman need a male guardian. But the industrialized Western states are complex and in debt. They are disintegrating, and nothing can stop this process. What will the situation of White women be as things turn worse?

Technology also grows human populations beyond safe environmental carrying capacity. By any sane analysis, Earth is overpopulated with low‐intelligence, high‐birthrate problem makers—no matter what the egalitarian lens shows. Technology will falter and down with it will go those populations brought out by hyper‐technology of food and energy production. Barbaric conditions will creep back in, and White women will lose their power. They will become commodities again. How White men handle their women then will be as important as how well they neutralize their racial enemies. It will determine the fate of the White race. White men will face two great problems in their women: 1) the competition for White women, and 2) those White women who demand what no longer exists nor can exist. This, exacerbating the struggles of survival, will make the scene ferocious.

The easy times are ending. They might collapse in our lifetimes, because technology is failing and “American” society is becoming too complex to govern. Dark peoples are streaming into the West to escape their deteriorating homelands. They have infiltrated White homelands by the tens of millions and five billion more are behind them. They are here and will remain until that desperate hour of the wolf when, and if, White warrior action coalesces and drives them out. The darks have their own leaders and White egalitarian scoundrels willing to collaborate with them. And they have White technology and weapons. In the coming war of White survival, White men will be defending not only their sustenance but also their women from dark warlords.

Whites have been besieged in Mother Europe before: by Huns, Moors, Mongols and Turks. But the coming war in North America will be different. The White man will be the obstinate holdout, unsure of himself, and the smaller tribe. And his women will be gold. Blonde and red‐headed women of apparently pure White blood will be highly prized: battled for, murdered for, negotiated for, abducted and bought, acquired by tribute, by black, brown, yellow and Jew warlords. The White warrior aristocracy would develop a creed of fanatical protection of its women—much like the Old South—a Castilian intolerance of dissent, ready to eradicate any hint of threat—and this includes the defection of White women.

It is of course intellectually au courant to think that the White race is history’s most rapacious. This is the product of Jew propaganda. The White man has proven himself the most humane. The dark races, too, have invaded, plundered, razed and enslaved. But it was Euro man who abolished these actions, as the objects in official policy, when he could. He developed the technology and shared it; he possessed the means and the innate sensitivity to attempt it. Even before the Renaissance and Enlightenment, and long before the advent of the steam engine, the White man saw the danger of his love of war. And he was easing up on his women—instinctively knowing that their participation in government would be necessary to rein in his instinct for adventure. Thus, White women were living better, and in the promise of a better future, centuries ago—better than the majority of dark women in their own societies today.

Today Whites everywhere are under siege. Decades of unimpeded Jew propaganda and Jew‐engendered laws meant to destroy Whites have created two White psychologies: the survivalist and the ZOGling. The survivalist psychology will eventually resist; the ZOGling is willing to surrender. The survivalist wants to live White, and wants his children to live White. He knows what White is. The ZOGling is the doomed whiteskin who doesn’t care about whiteness; more concerned is he with physical survival in comfort, and is willing to miscegenate and serve ZOG (often the ZOGling is merely dull; or worse, a “Libertarian”). The ZOGling is a whigger, meat for the dark hordes, a condom on the Jew phallus.

The new breed on the way, the Castilian wolf, will apply a sort of triage towards White women. It will be informal, ad hoc, but will seek to separate healthy White women from the tainted. After having killed off his immediate nigger, brown and Jew competitors; after securing a deep territory, the Castilian warrior must cull the pool of White women. He must discover which has had willing sexual contact with non‐White men, especially niggers. Those who have will be killed, expelled, or sold. Convinced, egalitarian, pro‐mixer White women are likely to be STD‐infected, and must be culled. (The prisoner David Lane has written a novel on this.)

It must be remembered that churches and ZOG propaganda have induced White men also to interracial sex. More powerful than these, however, is the White man’s lust. He takes whatever women it pleases him to take; same as it ever was. The White warrior who wishes to keep his honor must invent a system of honesty and judgment, both to control himself and treat White women fairly. As the time of the wolf draws nearer the White man must watch for other degenerative influences. One that is extremely damaging, but seems innocuous, is the inducement to masturbation—and not for any religious reason. This is facilitated by pornography. Masturbation is emasculation. Take a look around. Only masturbation can account for the slouched, neutered, passive character of so many young White men. The following factors are involved:

1. Images of sexualized females in advertising (soft porn)

2. Copulating females in private media (hard porn)

3. Recourse of females into careerism and as a result removal from the mating pool

4. Psychological warfare against White male identity

5. Elevation de jure and de facto of coloreds and Jews over White males in lucrative professions

All of which invert White males: some into homosexuality, others into a “celibacy” sustained by masturbation and the “wife” of pornographic images.

Retention of sperm increases aggressiveness. George Lincoln Rockwell’s famous dictum, “A man who won’t fuck, won’t fight,” is true. We should see also that a White man who accepts sexual release anywhere but into a worthy White woman is ceding territory to Jew and colored males. One incentive for warfare was the capture of desirable women. And so it shall be again. The White man who fails to establish and protect a pool of choice [for] White females from the coming statistical empire of 15‐20 Jew, nigger, Asian and mongrel men for every single White woman, will effectively fail to secure himself. The simple fact will be this: the strongest warriors will get the best women—same as it ever was. The more technology falters, the greater the danger, and the more intense the competition for White women. The Chinese still practice female infanticide. Within 50 years there will be 200 million Chinese men for whom there won’t be Chinese women. Think about that when the lights go out again. The numbers cannot be avoided.

In A.B. Guthrie’s superb novel The Big Sky (1947), Boone Caudill returns home to Kentucky after 20 years as a White savage in the Shining Mountains. Caudill has killed a dozen men, red and White, with a knife, gun and tomahawk. A pretty young girl, a neighbor of his brother, shows interest in him. Her mind and his can never share the same topography, however. Here in Kentucky he feels trapped and doomed, and knows he can live only in a state of anarchy. He arranges an evening tryst, and rapes her. She is talking of moonlight and flowers, and he only wants her body. Consider this excerpt:

He got up afterward and straightened himself, looking down while she lowered her skirt and curled on her side and lay in the grass, her mouth still a little broken from the feeling in her and her shoulders bucking to her catchy breath.

Her voice was small and jerky but it still spoke as if of something sure. “When’ll we be married, Boone?” He had wanted this woman and now he had her and never wanted her again. In him there was only a deadness, the numb deadness of a man sure enough about dead. He sank down in the grass.

“When, Boone?” It was her hand now that hunted for his and cuddled it in the warm palm as if it was hers for good and all.

“I ain’t thought about that.”

“We got to be married,” she said, and he thought he heard the quick sound of scare in her tone. “We just got to be married”…

He had to go. His feet straightened and lifted him up. “I got a woman.”

He left her sobbing in the grass. Once he heard her cry after him and took a glance back and saw her sitting and bowed over. It was too bad she took it so hard, but he had to go. Under him his feet quickened…

He had to go. West again. Somewhere west, as in that far‐off time…

He didn’t realize he was running until he saw Blue trotting to keep up.

This will be the general form of the White man in barbaric conditions. Most will not be this crude, of course. Caudill was not very intelligent. But his character indicates the consequences of pariah‐hood and pent‐up rage.

When the ’Kwa [Amerikwa—a negative word used to describe the degenerate, racially destructive, Jewified, niggrified, pussified, and depressing place that America has become] starts disintegrating Whites will scramble to form communities. Regional conditions will vary according to the infrastructure which blacks and browns prefer—that is, urban. The colder the climate, the better. The more trees and mountains, the better. How many niggers have you seen in the mountains? A picture of the nigger’s sexual nature is to be seen in the areas in which he thrives: the cities. The male nigger, having been loosed by Jews to be what he is, runs about like a hyena. To this sort of nigger, who dominates nigger areas, masturbation is what chumps (pussies) do. And fags. A buck nigger seeks release only in penetration—hence the sexual aggressiveness of niggers and their increasing success with White females as White male sexual energy retreats. When the time comes White males must kill all White pussy‐hound niggers and White women who give themselves to them. They must be hunted down and killed with Castilian ruthlessness. In the coming wars, bourgeois values will be a joke. Any White man who fails to purge miscegenating White women from his community allows poison to fester in it.

The Jew knew exactly what he was about when he caused, over decades of careful undermining, pornography to be decriminalized. Until the Jew snuck out of his ghettoes and into White civilized society, pornography and masturbation were anathema. Our White ancestors crushed pornography and counseled against masturbation—though their reasons for doing so were idiotic religious reasons, ours are for sound biological reasons. In the end, masturbation is cheap and weak. Masturbation is White male control.

After the wars of survival, which will be in effect culling processes, medieval conditions will come. White women will again be traded and sold, or married off, to effect political alliances. There will be no avoidance of this, a necessary step in the evolution of White civilization. The areas bordering Jew, nigger, mestizo and Asian dominions will be raided for plunder and White women. White women must be practically ensconced into harem‐like conditions for their security and to secure a breeding pool. The crimes of the future are inevitable.

The solution to the problem of White women in our time is the same solution for the other problems we have under ZOG. The solution is, abandon the system. Accelerate the rot of ZOG and the ’Kwa by withholding energies that maintain it. White women out of control; White women holding power over White men in corporations, military, government and law enforcement; all this is a condition which will disintegrate when the ZOG does. In a Jew‐free society the balance will be restored. The rage is smoldering and there will be retribution against a certain type, or types, of White women at the proper time. There are many Boone Caudills and there will be many more. They have no use for ’Kwa and will take it down. I have heard them—the exiles, simmering for The Day [of the Rope], tell me of being dumped by arrogant White professional girlfriends for nigger toys; of losing promotions by Affirmative Action; of insults and offenses of every stripe and heat. ZOGtwats are part of the System, allied to the ZOG, and they will receive harsh treatment.

The White man has no enemy who can stand up to him if he decides to quit feeding them. When the Jew‐capitalist machine breaks down, he gets his women back. The start is that simple. The conclusion will not be. How he handles it will decide his fate.

Chechar’s note:

“The areas bordering Jew, nigger, mestizo and Asian dominions will be raided for plunder and White women.”

This is exactly what I had in mind when, half a year ago, I added several Romantic paintings inspired in the theme of The Rape of the Sabine Women to one of Roger Devlin’s articles (here).

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