Unhistorical Jesus, 6

This is an update on what I have been saying about how the Christians transvalued Greco-Roman values through stealing vital elements of the Romulus story. I have resumed reading Carrier’s book and on pages 302-303 I came across this:

Later in the third century the Neoplatonist Porphyry wrote his own fifteen-volume treatise Against the Christians, which again does not survive, except for diverse scattered quotations in later Christian authors. A century after that Emperor Julian (the last pagan emperor, himself taking the throne only after a long line of Christian emperors) wrote Against the Galileans, his own critique of the religion that had transformed the empire he inherited. Once again, this does not survive; all we have are portions of Cyril of Alexandria’s treatise Against Julian. Eunapius then wrote in the year 414 a History against the Christians (perhaps not literally named that, but it was regarded as such by later Christians), an extensive critique of Christian ‘versions’ of historical events from 270 to 404 CE. This, too, does not survive; his otherwise inoffensive Lives of the Sophists was preserved instead. The only reason we know of his anti-Christian work is that before it faded into oblivion, many later historians, including Christians, employed it as a source.

I didn’t know the following until today:

Again, these are just the ones we know about: Which would be a fraction of what there was. All of it was tossed out or destroyed. Instead, we get to read only what medieval Christians wanted us to read. Another example of this phenomenon is that of the ‘mysterious lacuna’. Several texts that were preserved have sections removed. Sections whose disappearance seems convenient for Christians. Now, a lot of ancient literature, indeed arguably most, has missing material. This is typically a result of carelessness and accident, multiplied by time. But in some cases the precision and location of what was lost is a bit more peculiar than chance accident would suggest.

Carrier illustrates this with Refutation of all Heresies by the Christian scholar Hippolytus in the 3rd century. Remember that the Christians were so thorough that sometimes they even destroyed the ‘refutations’ authored by Christians so that not even what the pagan said about Christianity remained, even as ‘refuted’ quotes! (Some passages of Celsus survived simply because they didn’t dare to destroy the work of Origen, one of the early fathers of the Church.) Carrier continues:

But the second and third volumes are missing. The text skips directly to volume 4, which begins his discourse on astrology. This does not look like an accident. Some Christian or Christians decided to destroy those two volumes—for some reason fearing their contents. The resulting loss in our knowledge of the mystery religions is beyond considerable.

The below paragraph is what moved me to post this entry:

Another strange loss concerns the annual festival of Romulus in which his death and resurrection were reenacted in public passion plays (see Chapter 4, §1). That festival was held on the 7th of July. At the beginning of the first century Ovid wrote an elaborate poem, the Fasti, describing all the festivals throughout the year at Rome and what went on in them and why. This only survives in its first half, covering January to June, the remaining months are lost. It seems strange that the text cuts off precisely before the month in which a passion play [of Romulus] is described that was the most similar to that of Jesus Christ.

The fact that we have other descriptions of this festival (albeit none as complete as Ovid’s would have been) does mean there was no organized conspiracy to doctor the record (except when it came to controlling faith literature, for which we have clear evidence of Christians actively eliminating disapproved Gospels, for example), but this along with all the other cases (above and below) indicates a common trend among individual Christians to act as gatekeepers of information, suppressing what they didn’t like.

Ovid! And this even happened to Plutarch and Tacitus!:

Another example along similar lines is a mysterious gap in the text of Plutarch’s Moralia, a huge multivolume library of treatises on diverse subjects. In one of these, the Tabletalk, Plutarch is discussing the equivalence of Yahweh and Dionysus, and linking Jewish theology to the mystery religions, when suddenly the text is cut off. We have no idea how much is missing, although the surviving table of contents shows there were several sections remaining on other subjects besides this one. If an accident, this seems like a very convenient one.

A similar mysterious gap is found in the Annals of Tacitus. The text of the Annals survives in only two manuscript traditions, one containing the first half, the other the second half, with a section in between missing—and thus its loss is explicable. But there is another gap in the text that is harder to explain: two whole years from the middle of 29 CE to the middle of 31. That the cut is so precise and covers precisely those two years is too improbable to posit as a chance coincidence. The year 30 was regarded by many early Christians as the year of Christ’s ministry and crucifixion (see Element 7).

Robert Drews analyzed all the gaps in the Annals and concluded that this one has no more plausible explanation than that Christians excised those two years out of embarrassment at its omission of any mention of Jesus or associated events (like the world darkness reported in the Synoptic Gospels). Tacitus digresses on Christianity in his coverage of the year 64, in such a way that guarantees he made no mention of it earlier (if the passage there is authentic: see §10)—although Tacitus surely must have discussed other events under Pontius Pilate. So we can be certain Christians weren’t trying to hide anything embarrassing said about Jesus. But the embarrassment of saying nothing was evidently enough to motivate their targeted destruction of the corresponding text.

To understand the censor who eliminated those chapters so that posterity would remain in the dark, let us remember that St. Augustine also struggled with an omission. Seneca de Younger wrote On Superstition between 40 and 62. Carrier again: ‘that lambasted every known cult of Rome, even the most trivial and obscure—including the Jews—but never mentioned Christians’.

It is increasingly clear: Not only Jesus of Nazareth did not exist. The authors of the gospels (Semites, I suppose) stole the myth of the Aryan god Romulus for incredibly subversive purposes (see red letters: here).

That is why they tried to erase any hint of the Romulus festivals when they destroyed almost all the books in Latin, from the fourth to the sixth century (see Catherine Nixey’s words in bold type: here).

Darkening Age, 27

Below, excerpts from the final
chapter of Nixey’s book:

‘Moreover, we forbid the teaching of any doctrine by those who labour under the insanity of paganism’.

– Justinian Code

The philosopher Damascius was a brave man: you had to be to see what he had seen and still be a philosopher. But as he walked through the streets of Athens in AD 529 and heard the new laws bellowed out in the town’s crowded squares, even he must have felt the stirrings of unease. He was a man who had known persecution at the hands of the Christians before. He would have been a fool not to recognize the signs that it was beginning again.

As a young man, Damascius had studied philosophy in Alexandria, the city of the murdered Hypatia. He had not been there for long when the city had turned, once again, on its philosophers. The persecution had begun dramatically. A violent attack on a Christian by some non-Christian students had started a chain of reprisals in which philosophers and pagans were targeted. Christian monks, armed with an axe, had raided, searched then demolished a house accused of being a shrine to ‘demonic’ idols. The violence had spread and Christians had found and collected all images of the old gods from across Alexandria, from the bathhouses and from people’s homes. They had placed them in a pyre in the centre of the city and burned them. As the Christian chronicler, Zachariah of Mytilene, comfortably observed, Christ had declared that he had ‘given you the authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all enemy power’.

For Damascius and his fellow philosophers, however, all that had been a mere prelude to what came next. Soon afterwards, an imperial officer had been sent to Alexandria to investigate paganism. The investigation had rapidly turned to persecution. This was when philosophers had been tortured by being hung up by cords and when Damascius’s own brother had been beaten with cudgels – and to Damascius’s great pride, had remained silent…

Damascius decided to flee. In secret, he hurried with his teacher, Isidore, to the harbour and boarded a boat. Their final destination was Greece, and Athens, the most famous city in the history of Western philosophy.

It was now almost four decades since Damascius had escaped to Athens as an intellectual exile. In that time, a lot had changed. When he had arrived in the city he had been a young man; now he was almost seventy. But he was still as energetic as ever, and as he walked about Athens in his distinctive philosopher’s cloak – the same austere cloak that Hypatia had worn – many of the citizens would have recognized him. For this émigré was now not only an established fixture of Athenian philosophy and a prolific author, he was also the successful head of one of the city’s philosophical schools: the Academy. To say ‘one of’ the schools is to diminish this institution’s importance: it was perhaps the most famous school in Athens, indeed in the entire Roman Empire. It traced its history back almost a thousand years and it would leave its linguistic traces on Europe and America for two thousand years to come. Every modern academy, académie and akademie owes its name it.

Since he had crossed the wine-dark sea, life had gone well for Damascius – astonishingly well, given the turbulence he had left behind. In Alexandria, Christian torture, murder and destruction had had its effect on the intellectual life of the city. After Hypatia’s murder the numbers of philosophers in Alexandria and the quality of what was being taught there had, unsurprisingly, declined rapidly. In the writings of Alexandrian authors there is a clear mood of depression, verging on despair. Many, like Damascius, had left.

In fifth-century Athens, the Church was far less powerful and considerably less aggressive. Its intellectuals had felt pressure nonetheless. Pagan philosophers who flagrantly opposed Christianity paid for their dissent. The city was rife with informers and city officials listened to them. One of Damascius’s predecessors had exasperated the authorities so much that he had fled, escaping – narrowly – with his life and his property. Another philosopher so vexed the city’s Christians by his unrepentant ‘pagan’ ways that he had had to go into exile for a year to get away from the ‘vulture-like men’ who now watched over Athens. In an act that could hardly have been more symbolic of their intellectual intentions, the Christians had built a basilica in the middle of what had once been a library. The Athens that had been so quarrelsome, so gloriously and unrepentantly argumentative, was being silenced. This was an increasingly tense, strained world. It was, as another author and friend of Damascius put it, ‘a time of tyranny and crisis’.

The very fabric of the city had changed. Its pagan festivals had been stopped, its temples closed and, as in Alexandria, the skyline of the city had been desecrated; here, by the removal of Phidias’s great figure of Athena…

Despite his success, Damascius had not forgotten what he had seen in Alexandria – and had not forgiven it, either. His writings show a never-failing contempt for the Christians. He had seen the power of Christian zeal in action. His brother had been tortured by it. His teacher had been exiled by it. And, in the year 529, zealotry was once again in evidence. Christianity had long ago announced that all pagans had been wiped out. Now, finally, reality was to be forced to fall in with the triumphant rhetoric.

The determination that lay behind this threat was not only felt in Athens in this period. It was in AD 529, the very same year in which the atmosphere in Athens began to worsen, that St Benedict destroyed that shrine to Apollo in Monte Cassino…

Previous attacks on Damascius and his scholars had largely been driven by local enthusiasms; a violently aggressive band of Alexandrian monks here, an officious local official there. But this attack was something new. It came not from the enthusiasm of a hostile local power; it came in the form of a law – from the emperor himself…

This was the end. The ‘impious and wicked pagans’ were to be allowed to continue in their ‘insane error’ no longer. Anyone who refused salvation in the next life would, from now on, be all but damned in this one…

This was no longer mere prohibition of other religious practices. It was the active enforcement of Christianity on every single, sinful pagan in the empire. The roads to error were being closed, forcefully. Everyone now had to become Christian. Every single person in the empire who had not yet been baptized now had to come forward immediately, go to the holy churches and ‘entirely abandon the former error [and] receive saving baptism’…

‘Moreover’, it reads, ‘we forbid the teaching of any doctrine by those who labour under the insanity of paganism’ so that they might not ‘corrupt the souls of their disciples.’ The law goes on, adding a finicky detail or two about pay, but largely that is it.

Its consequences were formidable. It was this law that forced Damascius and his followers to leave Athens. It was this law that caused the Academy to close. It was this law that led the English scholar Edward Gibbon to declare that the entirety of the barbarian invasions had been less damaging to Athenian philosophy than Christianity was. This law’s consequences were described more simply by later historians. It was from this moment, they said, that a Dark Age began to descend upon Europe…

Free philosophy has gone. The great destruction of classical texts gathers pace. The writings of the Greeks ‘have all perished and are obliterated’: that was what John Chrysostom had said. He hadn’t been quite right, then: but time would bring greater truth to his boast. Undefended by pagan philosophers or institutions, and disliked by many of the monks who were copying them out, these texts start to disappear. Monasteries start to erase the works of Aristotle, Cicero, Seneca and Archimedes. ‘Heretical’ – and brilliant – ideas crumble into dust. Pliny is scraped from the page. Cicero and Seneca are overwritten. Archimedes is covered over. Every single work of Democritus and his heretical ‘atomism’ vanishes. Ninety per cent of all classical literature fades away…

The pages of history go silent. But the stones of Athens provide a small coda to the story of the seven philosophers… The lovely statue of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, suffered as badly as the statue of Athena in Palmyra had. Not only was she beheaded she was then, a final humiliation, placed face down in the corner of a courtyard to be used as a step. Over the coming years, her back would be worn away as the goddess of wisdom was ground down by generations of Christian feet.

The ‘triumph’ of Christianity was complete.

Strom, Oliver and Dietz

One is always discovering important matters. Yesterday, for example, I listened to the four-part dialogue between Kevin Alfred Strom and Jay Hess about Revilo P. Oliver on the Strom website.

As boomers they are what impressed me was that their way of speaking is very much in tune with my character. If there is something that I no longer tolerate from younger racialists it is, at least in what can be heard in the videos, their tremendous lack of gravitas. They are still wrapped in a ‘happy mode’ as Americans ignore the storm ahead after their dollar crashes. I, a boomer like Strom, have a fundamentally different character and way of speaking to younger generations.

Oliver was not a boomer: he was born in 1908, more or less of the generation of my maternal grandparents. He was a true scholar who read several languages, including Sanskrit, Latin, Greek and Spanish. It is unfortunate that young racialists, who are generally monolingual, do not take advantage of the wisdom of a man like Oliver, especially now that Strom has republished many of his texts on the internet.

Oliver was ahead of his time. He came to predict that by the excesses of the Federal Reserve there would be a monetary problem with the dollar in the future. And in his field of expertise he was also very advanced. Since last year I have been mentioning the young exegete Richard Carrier, who considers it very likely Jesus never actually existed as a historical person. Oliver, who died in 1994, already sensed it a dozen years before Carrier. See for example this essay-review by Oliver of Nicholas Carter’s book, The Christ Myth.

Oliver’s article that republished Strom mentioned Liberty Bell, but the link to that magazine’s issue on the Strom site was already broken. I used a search engine and oh surprise: I found this article.

According to Metapedia, ‘Liberty Bell was an American National Socialist oriented magazine with a conservative veneer. The magazine was published by George P. Dietz and appeared from September 1973 to February 1999. Revilo P. Oliver was a major contributor to this publication’. I clicked on George Dietz’s article in the same online encyclopaedia and found that Dietz’s ‘Liberty Bell catalog held over 300 titles of books and pamphlets in English, German, Spanish, and French’, and that Dietz was the first racialist ‘to appear on the emerging Internet’, that he ‘was born in Kassel, Germany in 1928 and was a member of the Hitler Youth. He came to the United States in 1957 and became a U.S. citizen in 1962’.

So here we have a bridge between the authentic National Socialism and the American racialist movement. Why don’t today’s webzines by racially aware pundits mention it? Counter-Currents has only one mention, in passing, of Dietz and The Occidental Observer apparently none. This seems incredible to me, as Liberty Bell used to mention matters of great importance, such as the American plan to exterminate the Germans after World War II. Also the site of Jared Taylor, who has been called the granddaddy of the alt-right, seems like a parallel world to what survived of National Socialism in the US. Why?

My working hypothesis is that this is because all these seemingly secular people, who are also boomers, have not abandoned Christian ethics. It is precisely Christian ethics, as well as not rebelling against their American project, which makes them blind to a superior nation as was Germany. Perhaps one of the bridges that helps us link the two worlds is Strom’s library work? There is much to read in the process of education that never ends: an antidote to the brainwashing machinery that is the West today, as Oliver called it.

Now that The Fair Race PDF is completed I should resume my translations of Christianity’s Criminal History. Although Oliver was aware of the Christian problem, just as Strom he did not seem to know that it was bigger than the Jewish problem. As we know, internal betrayal is worse than the subversion of the external enemy. And I cannot imagine anything more serious than worshiping the god of our enemies and obeying his ethnosuicidal commandments (remember, the Old Testament teaches in-group love to the Jews and the New Testament teaches out-group love to us gentiles).

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 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  

Virtuosos in inducing guilt

Carlo Crivelli was profoundly influenced by early Renaissance art in Padua. His Polyptych of the Cathedral St. Emidius, of 2.90×2.80 metres and divided into three rows, is exactly at the same place where it was first put in 1473.

According to Catholic teaching, there was no pain similar to Mary’s before her dead Jew, as shown in this interpretation of the Pietà by Crivelli.

In the same Polyptych we can see St. Catherine of Alexandria (top left in the Polyptych; close-up below). According to tradition, she was a Christian saint and virgin, martyred in the early 4th century at the hands of the evil pagan emperor Maxentius.

There is only one problem with such pious legend: Catherine of Alexandria probably didn’t exist. Just as they did with World War II, where the Allies blamed the Germans for the crimes the Allied forces had committed—the genocide of millions of defenceless Germans—, instead of telling the story of Hypatia of Alexandria, a true martyr, the Christians invented the apocryphal story of St. Catherine of Alexandria…

The Christians, with their astronomic lies and fantastic inversions, are virtuosos in inducing guilt among the white peoples. Like the Jews, the goal of the Christians is to overwhelm the blond beast with massive guilt.

But it is difficult to blame Crivelli for his Polyptych. In the 15th century, books like the recently published The Myth of Persecution: How Early Christians Invented a Story of Martyrdom by Candida Moss had not been published. And anyway, Crivelli’s Catherine at least reflects Aryan female beauty.

Published in: on September 5, 2019 at 12:00 pm  Comments Off on Virtuosos in inducing guilt  

Who guilt-tripped us?

This Pieta by Early Netherlandish painter Gerard David is the central part of a triptych that is preserved in the Cagliari Cathedral Museum. The Jewess Mary, mother of Jesus, with her demurred piety contemplates the wounds that adorn the hands of the Jew martyred by evil Romans.

We can already imagine the guilt trip that, for the Aryan psyche, represented the centuries through which all whites were forced to abandon their proud Gods and ‘golden haired’ heroes, as Homer described them, to worship a rather ugly and unattractive deity of the Semites.

Who could have invented Christianity, a perfect prolefeed for us gentiles? ‘All of the evidence we have’, says Richard Carrier, ‘strongly supports the conclusion that there were actually literal rabbis that originated the sect [Christianity]’.

Published in: on September 4, 2019 at 1:55 am  Comments Off on Who guilt-tripped us?