Possessed whites

Jordan Peterson may be a sophist but he does well to remind us, quoting Jung, that the human being in general has no ideas: he is possessed by ideas.

Since the Imperial Church destroyed the Greco-Roman world, whites literally became possessed by Jewish ideas. Think about how many centuries the possessed ones bent their knees to deities like Yahweh and his son Yeshu.

Whites are so possessed that even the souls of the supposed rebels of the anti-white zeitgeist continue to be possessed by this idea. And I mean not only white nationalists who remain Christians. Every time I see more clearly that the fact that books like Who We Are remain unpublished, even by secular racialists, is because Pierce breaks away from Christian ethics by advising ‘extermination or expulsion’ of non-whites throughout his book.

Understand me well: like the normies, all racialists in today’s world are possessed by an unhealthy idea. And like the normies they will remain possessed until the day of their deaths, as Thomas Kuhn saw. There are exceptions of course, including some commenters who have visited this site. But in general what Jung said remains: human beings have no ideas; they are possessed by ideas. And the idea that in this age governs westerners, including secular white nationalists, remains Christian ethics.

It is true that white nationalists are not normies. But since they are unable to break openly with Christian ethics they are in no man’s land. The metaphor I have been using is that, although they left Normieland, while crossing the psychological Rubicon they stayed in the middle of the river. They are unable to continue crossing into the lands of National Socialism, and will remain unable to cross it until the day of their deaths. The magnet exercised by the precepts of Yahweh and his son Yeshu from the side of the river they left behind is irresistible.

Our only hope is to appeal to the very young generations, perhaps teenagers or children, who in the future will read The Fair Race: a compilation that, as I promised yesterday, in the 2020 edition I added a paragraph in the introduction (and deleted the PDF of 2019).

Above, Catherine gets a woman released from her pact with the devil before dying, a painting by Girolamo di Benvenutto (1470-1524). What Girolamo ignored is that Christianity itself is the devil, and that we must get whites released from their devilish pact before their race goes extinct.

Peter & Andrew

For Catholics like my (late) father, the New Testament tales about St. Peter occupy a place of pre-eminence. They ignore that those are only tales, literary fiction from the pen of some Hellenized Semites of the 1st century.

In this fresco of 1436 we see Peter next to Andrew, his brother, at the time of being both called by the ‘Master’. The scene is due to the hand of Andrea di Giusto, and is located in the church of St. Andrew, in Ripalta.

Published in: on January 13, 2020 at 10:48 am  Comments (2)  

The Incredulity of St. Thomas

St. Thomas making sure of the sores of the ‘Master’ is one of the most classic figures in the iconography of the apparitions of Jesus after his resurrection, as in this oil on canvas that we can contemplate in Rome, Pinacoteca Vaticana, ascribed to Guercino (c. 1620).

Currently, only fundamentalists believe in the historicity of the resurrection. Liberal New Testament exegetes, who somehow remain Christians, resemble the sceptic St. Thomas more than what white nationalist Christians believe.

Published in: on January 2, 2020 at 1:27 pm  Comments Off on The Incredulity of St. Thomas  

Our patron saint

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas is titled this painting by Vasari, in the Florentine church of Santa Croce. The composition and treatment of the figures reveal the spirit of the late Renaissance.

With the tools of exegesis of our century it is not only possible to doubt, like Thomas, that Jesus rose from the dead. It is even possible to doubt that the guy existed, as readers of Richard Carrier know. Even so, sceptics of the New Testament narrative sarcastically consider Thomas as their ‘patron saint’.

Published in: on October 3, 2019 at 8:32 pm  Comments Off on Our patron saint  

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.

Published in: on September 15, 2019 at 11:20 am  Comments Off on Suppers at Emmaus  

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 detail of a 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  Comments Off on The Three Marys  

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  Comments Off on Spanish Renaissance painter  

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  Comments Off on How the myth developed