Suppers at Emmaus

In the previous thread on Christian art Berk said: ‘How and why the Italian Renaissance began to use Nordic faces in their paintings is not something I know, but it is a revolutionary act perhaps in resistance to the Christianity they faced’. I answered that maybe Nietzsche can help:

Is it understood at last, will it ever be understood, what the Renaissance was? The transvaluation of Christian values: an attempt with all available means, all instincts and all the resources of genius to bring about a triumph of the opposite values, the more noble values…

Supper at Emmaus (1606, above) is a painting by the Italian master Caravaggio, housed in the Pinacoteca di Brera in Milan, Italy. Caravaggio’s work had a formative influence on Baroque painting. I told my father a long time ago that the Baroque ‘was a betrayal of the Renaissance’. He got angry and didn’t seem to understand what I was saying.

Fra Angelico began painting 200 years before the above Supper in Emmaus was completed. If we compare the blond angels and even the blond Jesus and redhead Magdalene of Fra Angelico in my previous posts with the painting by Caravaggio, we clearly see the regression towards non-Aryan characters.

Non-Aryan characters are even more obvious in this other Supper in Emmaus of 1601, also of Caravaggio, which is not located in Italy but in the National Gallery of London. Notice how the face of Jesus in this picture is wider (that is, less Nordid) than the face of Jesus in the picture above.

Nordid Jesus


Christianity has been a kind of straitjacket that has taken as a prisoner the mind of the white man, especially in the Middle Ages, from where he could not get loose. It was a time when the European tried, by subtle means, to free himself from the prison of the mind to which they had put him. A subtle way that the Aryan spirit sought to escape was, as Fra Angelico did, to Nordicize the (originally Semitic) characters of the New Testament.

The Italian painter’s imagination didn’t have to work hard to compose this endearing appearance of Jesus to Magdalene, where the event occurs with extreme naturalness. The painting is in the convent of San Mark in Florence, where the original of this hyper-Nordic Jesus can be contemplated.

Published in: on September 14, 2019 at 10:49 am  Comments (2)  

The Three Marys


A classic theme in the narration of the apparitions: the Three Marys. This painting in the Maestà by Duccio, mentioned in an earlier entry, seems to have captured the gesture of serene surprise at the angel’s announcement in the fictional tale that the Gospel of Matthew sold us. In the hands of these pious women we see the knobs of the balm with which they were preparing to anoint the body of the crucified Jew.

Published in: on September 13, 2019 at 12:01 pm  Leave a Comment  

Spanish Renaissance painter

In previous entries of Christian art we have seen how literary fiction was growing within the New Testament itself; how, from St. Paul who did not mention the empty tomb in his epistles (the oldest texts of the New Testament), the evangelist Mark did mention it but only with a ‘young man’. Matthew, who wrote after Mark, used the latter’s story and, in his own literary fiction, transfigured the young man into an ‘angel’. Luke and John, who knew Matthew’s text, added another angel to their gospels.

This is how the four gospels were created, each late gospel making the miracle bigger. But the story of how fiction grew does not end in the New Testament. Just as the so-called apocryphal gospels devised additional stories that do not appear in the so-called canonical gospels (e.g., passages from the childhood of Jesus), the popular imagery would invent stories that do not even appear in the apocrypha.

For example, the gospels do not tell that the risen Jesus appeared to his mother. But artists and Christian piety could not help imagining the encounter. This can be seen in Appearance of the Risen Christ to the Virgin (1515, above), a work by Hernando Yáñez de la Adelina, a Spanish Renaissance painter and introducer of the Italian quattrocentist formulas in Valencia and Castile.

Published in: on September 12, 2019 at 12:01 pm  Leave a Comment  

Mind control of all whites

The multiple appearances of Jesus to his people after the resurrection appear treated by the hand of Duccio di Buoninsegna in his Maestà of the Cathedral of Siena.

When Duccio, who was born in the 13th century, painted The Incredulity of Thomas credulity reigned all over medieval Europe. It was inconceivable to the European mentality that all of the gospel passages that can be seen in the Maestà paintings originated in literary fiction out of the pen of Semitic writers of the late first century. The grip that the Roman Catholic Church had over the European mind was absolute.

Published in: on September 11, 2019 at 12:01 pm  Comments (5)  

How the myth developed

Next to the already empty tomb, this Italian work by Andrea Orcagna (1370, preserved in the National Gallery of London) shows a dialogue between a couple of angels and the three Marys.

In the earliest gospel, Mark (16:5) describes that the women enter the tomb and meet ‘one young man’.

A later evangelist, Matthew (28:2), who used Mark’s gospel, embellished Mark’s literary fiction a little further. He changed the ‘one young man’ to an ‘angel’ that arrives during an earthquake and rolls the stone away.

Luke and John, who wrote their gospels even after Matthew, add another angel to the story that greet the women. So there are two angels now, like the blond ones represented by the delicate paintbrush of Orcagna. (I really love how medieval painters used the pink colour…)

Published in: on September 10, 2019 at 12:01 pm  Leave a Comment  

The empty tomb

For Christians, the empty tomb is the great proof that the Jew they worship had risen. In this detail from The Polyptych of the Misericordia that a disciple of Piero della Francesca painted in the 15th century, the women ‘prove the truth’ of the central miracle in Christendom.

Today’s Christians do not seem bothered by the fact that the oldest texts of the New Testament, seven Pauline epistles, do not mention the empty tomb at all. Obviously, the story was invented after Paul by the gospel authors.

Published in: on September 9, 2019 at 12:38 pm  Comments (1)  

The resurrected Jew

With the characteristic symmetry of the Renaissance, Mantegna composed this Resurrection in which the resurrected Jew is the luminous axis of the scene (see the complete painting: here), surrounded by the heads of red angels on his right and white angels on his left.

Always keep in mind that the doctrine of the Resurrection was plagiarised by the Jews who originated the Christian sect. They simply used the story of the founding hero-God of the Romans: Romulus. The idea of those who wrote the New Testament was simply to use the mythological biography of the white God to convince the Romans to better worship the god of the Jews.

The parallels between the old Romulus and the new Jesus invented by the rabbis are so obvious that a few are worth mentioning: Both are sons of God; their deaths are accompanied by prodigies and the land is covered in darkness; both corpses go missing; both receive a new immortal body superior to the one they had; their resurrected bodies had on occasion a bright and shining appearance; after their resurrection they meet with a follower on a road from the city; a speech is given from a high place prior to the ‘translation to heaven’; there is a ‘great commission’ or instruction to future followers; they physically ascend to heaven and, finally, they are taken up into a cloud.

Every single Westerner has heard the story that these rabbis concocted about Jesus. But who knows the original legend, that of the Aryan hero-God Romulus?

Judea’s victory over Rome is complete even among those racially conscious Christians who mistakenly fancy themselves as anti-Semites.

Mea culpa

Every moment of the gospels on the Passion has been represented ad infinitum and ad nauseam throughout centuries in Christian iconography, which has obviously induced guilt among the white man. (The hypothetical six million Jews killed by evil Germans are nothing more than the secularised version of the Jew killed by evil Romans.) One of these iconographic moments is the issue of descent from the cross and the contemplation of the dead Jew, as in this representation by the German Renaissance artist Albrecht Dürer, Glimm Lamentation, an oil-on-panel painting of the year 1500:

Don’t miss the couple of pious little blond children below the figure of dead Jew.

Speaking of inducing guilt, in the Confiteor what bothered me most when I used to go to the masses was the passage mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa (‘through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault’). In the Catholic masses the faithful have to practice three blows to their chests while saying such words, every Sunday and throughout their lives. The Confiteor is so obviously a trick to induce guilt that it is worth quoting:

I confess to god almighty [i.e., the god of the Jews], before the whole company of heaven, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed; in what I have done and in what I have failed to do, by my fault, by my fault, by my most grievous fault; wherefore I pray god almighty [the god of the Jews] to have mercy on me, forgive me all my sins, and bring me to everlasting life. Amen.

You can see how the Judeo-Christian trick is detected when changing capital letters to small letters (‘god almighty’) and adding the proper brackets. If we now compare this religion originated by rabbis for us gentiles with the healthy Aryan religion of the Greco-Romans (see e.g., my other post today) the whole point of this site will be taken.

Published in: on September 7, 2019 at 10:54 am  Comments Off on Mea culpa  

Granada diptych

Flemish painters cultivated the theme of the Pietà with singular devotion. Mary’s group cries the dead Jew, as does the apostle John in this painting of Hans Memling in the Royal Chapel of Granada. (In my book with large illustrations where details can be appreciated, the tears are visible.) Memling also painted white people in hell, as in Last Judgement (oil on wood, 1466-1473) and Triptych of Earthly Vanity (oil on oak panel, 1485).

History has enormous inertia. What the vast majority of racially conscious whites have not seen is that, a doctrine that induces infinite guilt among whites like the Christian, leaves a huge mark once all of this crying before the corpse of a dead Jew is overcome by secularism.

It is no coincidence that the nation most dedicated to protecting Jews and defaming the memory of racially awakened Germany has been the nation that, full of guilt and full of good Christians, had waged an anti-white war in the 1860s as so many times Robert Morgan has discussed on Unz Review.

Published in: on September 6, 2019 at 12:01 pm  Comments Off on Granada diptych