Reflections of an Aryan woman, 34

Note that I say nothing about the political regime in this world of living automatons. I’m not trying to ask what it might be, because that question is irrelevant.

The deeper one sinks into uniformity from below, created and maintained by dirigisme with no other ideal than that of ever-increasing production, with a view to the well-being of the greatest number—in other words, the more it moves away from the type of hierarchical social organism that ceases to be a living pyramid as it once was in all civilisations and becomes a nameless, grey porridge brewed not by artists, still less by sages, but by clever people devoid of any awareness of extra-human values working for the immediate, in the narrowest sense of the word—the more it is like this the less the form of government matters.

There is still, theoretically at least, a difference between the condition of an assembly line worker in the Cadillac factories and that of an assembly line worker in some industrial complex in the Marxist world; between a saleswoman in a supermarket in Western Europe or the USA and that of a food distributor in a canteen anywhere behind the iron curtain. And the list of parallels could go on and on.

In principle, the worker in the ‘free world’ is not obliged to accept conditioning. When the siren sounds, or when the monster shop closes, he can do what he wants, go where he wants, use his leisure time as he pleases. Nothing forces him physically to buy drinks for his mates at the local café, or in monthly instalments the indispensable TV set or the no less ‘indispensable’ car. There are no political, or semi-political, semi-cultural meetings which he is forced to attend, on pain of finding himself, the next day, without a job or, worse still, suspected of deviationism and incarcerated—whereas in the USSR or China there are some and how! (according to the echoes we have of it; I repeat, I don’t know, first hand, the Marxist world).

Nothing would prevent a worker or an office employee or a saleswoman in the free world from using her leisure time as I would use it in his place if, for whatever reason, I had to work in a factory, an office or a supermarket to pay my bills. Nothing would prevent him provided that he finds a home secluded enough or soundproofed not to be bothered by the neighbours’ radio or television, and a manager or building owner complaisant enough to allow him to keep some domestic animal around, should that be his pleasure. Then perhaps his leisure hours would be truly blessed, and his modest flat a haven of peace.

Then perhaps he (or she) could, after spending an hour or two in silence, completely free himself entirely from the persistent noise of machines (or the light music imposed in certain workshops or shops); or the blinding glare of lights, of the atmosphere of people, have a quiet supper, alone or amid his family, walking his dog under the trees of some not too busy boulevard, and absorb himself, before the hour of sleep, in some nice read.

Then perhaps, but only then, the progress of machinery would guarantee him leisure, which he would use to cultivate himself, the more he would become ‘man’ again, in the most honest sense of the word; and the more one could, to some extent, speak of a ‘liberating technology’—although I could never be persuaded that even two hours a day spent in the depressing atmosphere of the factory or the office, or the modern department stores, are not, on balance, more exhausting than ten or twelve hours employed in some interesting work—in some art, such as that of the potter or the weaver of bygone ages.

But for this to happen, the worker, the proletarian, in the countries of the ‘free world’, who, in principle, can do what he wants after his working hours, would have to want something other than what he is conditioned to want. His ‘freedom’ resembles that of a young man, brought up since childhood in the atmosphere of a Jesuit boarding school, to whom one would say: ‘You are now of age. You are free to practice whatever religion you like’.

One student in ten million will practice something other than the strictest Catholicism; and the very one who breaks away from it will, most of the time, retain its imprint for the rest of his life.

In the same way, even in the ‘free world’ where, in theory, all ideas, all faiths, all tastes are accepted, the man of the masses and, increasingly, that of the ‘free’ intelligentsia, is, from childhood, caught up in the atmosphere of technical civilisation, and stultified by it and by all its ‘progressive’, humanitarian or pseudo-humanitarian, and pseudo-scientific publicity—the propaganda of ‘universal happiness’ by material comfort and purchasable pleasures. And he no longer wishes to break free of it.

One individual in ten million violently disengages from it, and turns his back on it, with or without ostentation, as the painter Delvaux did; as a few anonymous people do every day without even bothering to leave the banal building where they have made their room the sanctuary of a life that is anachronistic without necessarily appearing to be.

The only thing that might be said in favour of the ‘free world’, as opposed to its enemy brother, the Marxist world, is that it doesn’t take police sanctions against this exceptional individual—unless, of course, we express our hostility to today’s mores in the form of Hitlerism. And even in this respect there is a little less constraint than among the Communists in power: one can, everywhere in the ‘free world’, except, no doubt, in the unfortunate Germany, whose soul the victors of 1945 killed, have a portrait of the Führer on one’s bedside table, without fear of indiscreet inspections followed by legal sanctions.

What could be said in favour of the Marxist world, however, is that the latter has, despite everything, a faith—based on false notions and real counter-values, that is undeniable if we take a stand from the viewpoint of the eternal, which is that of Tradition, but finally, a faith—whereas the so-called ‘free’ world has none at all. The militant of values other than those exalted by official communist propaganda is likely to find himself one day in some ‘correction camp’ only if he pushes his temerity to the point of forgetting that he is in the underground, and must remain there.
 

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Editor’s Note: This interview with a Serbian intellectual who lived on the island of Gran Canaria (where I lived for ten months) woke me up ten years ago to the fact that today’s West is more totalitarian than Eastern Europe in the time of Breshnev.

Savitri continues:

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But the mass of the indoctrinated, who form the majority of the population there, will have the impression that they are working—and working hard—for the advent of something that seems great to them and that they love, whether it be the world revolution of the proletarians, the union of all Slavs under the aegis of holy Russia (this ideal is, it seems, that of more than one Russian Communist), or the domination of the yellow race through universal Communism. Industrial or agricultural production—that in the name of which so much eminently dull work has to be done—leads, in the final analysis, to such grandiose goals. It’s more exciting than the safe and neat little life culminating in the Saturday or Friday night drive to Monday morning.

Both worlds are, in fact, abominable caricatures of the hierarchical societies that once claimed to be, or at least wanted to be, as faithful images as possible of the eternal order of which the cosmos is the visible manifestation. The technical civilisation of the ‘free world’ opposes the unity in diversity which these societies possessed with the despairing uniformity of the man who is mass-produced, without direction, without impetus—not that of the water in a river, but that of a heap of sand whose grains, all insignificant and all similar, would each believe themselves to be very interesting.

The dictatorship of an increasingly invasive proletariat, on the other hand, opposes it with a uniformity of marching robots, all driven by the same energy: robots whose absence of individuality is a wicked parody of the deliberate renunciation of the individual, conscious of his place and role, in favour of that which is beyond him. The zeal for work and the irresistible push forward of these same automatons who believe they are devoted to the ‘happiness of man’ counterfeits the ancient efficiency of the masses who built, under the direction of true masters, monuments of beauty and truth: the pyramids, with or without floors, of Egypt, Mesopotamia or Central America; the Great Wall of China; the temples of India and those of Angkor; the Colosseum; the Byzantine, Romanesque, or Gothic cathedrals…

Of the two caricatures, the second, the Marxist, is arguably more clever in its crudeness than the other. To see this, one need only look at the number of people of real human worth who have fallen for it and who, in all sincerity, convinced that they were guided by an ideal of liberation and disinterested service, have swelled the ranks of the militants of the most fanatical form of Anti-Tradition that has yet appeared. This can be seen in Europe as well as in other regions—in India, in particular, where the Communist leaders are recruited mainly from the Aryan castes, strange as that may be. There is something in the very rigour of Communism that attracts certain characters eager for both discipline and sacrifice; something which makes them see the worst kind of slavery under the disguise of self-sacrifice, and the most laughable narrow-mindedness under the guise of a sacred intolerance.

The caricature of the ‘free world’ is less dangerous in the sense that it is outwardly ‘less resembling’, and therefore less capable to appeal to elite characters. But it is more dangerous in that, being less outrageous, it is at first sight less shocking to those whom Marxism repels, precisely because they have discovered in it the features of a false religion.

Having none of the attributes of a ‘faith’ it reassures them, encouraging them to believe that thanks to democratic ‘tolerance’—a tolerance which, as I have said, extends to all but us Hitlerites—they will be able to continue to profess in peace all the cults (all the exoterisms) which are dear to them: Christianity or Judaism in the West; Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, elsewhere; even one of these in the historical domain of another—why not, when the individual believes himself to be everything, and arrogates to himself, therefore, the right to choose everything?

They don’t realise that the very mentality of the technocratic world, with all its emphasis on the immediately and materially useful, the ‘functional’, and therefore the increasingly extensive applications of the sciences and pseudo-sciences at the expense of any detachment, is the antithesis of any disinterested thirst for knowledge as well as of any love of works of art and also of beings because of their beauty alone. They don’t realise that it can only accelerate the severing of any exoteric religion or philosophy from esotericism, without which it has no eternal value, and thus precipitate the ruin of all culture.

They don’t realise this because they forget that disinterested knowledge, the blossoming of art worthy of the name and the protection of beings (including man insofar as he responds to what his noun, Anthropos, ‘he who looks or reaches upwards’ would lead one to expect) go hand in hand, beauty being inseparable from truth, and culture being nothing if it doesn’t express both.

They forget—or have never known—that, deprived of their connection with the great cosmic and ontological truths they should illustrate, exoteric religions very quickly become fables to which no one attaches credence anymore; degenerate philosophies become idle chatter and political doctrines, recipes for electoral success; and that the technocratic world, with its eminently utilitarian approach to all problems, with its anthropocentrism coupled with its obsession with quantity, diverts even the best minds from the search and contemplation of eternal truths.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 33

You probably know what I get from the devotees of indefinite ‘progress’, Marxists or not. They say: ‘All this is temporary. Be patient! The machinery is only at its beginning; it has not yet reached its full potential’.

Today, of course, the multiplicity of new needs has resulted in the haste to earn money, and the fact that more and more people accept to earn money by engaging in the most dehumanising occupations. Today, it is true, more and more workers tend to become robots for a third of their lives, namely during their working hours; and, to some extent, after their working hours (by acquired habit). But let’s not worry! All this will change, thanks to the sacrosanct progress! Already we are in large companies, equipped with ultra-complicated machines—computers or ‘electronic brains’—capable of solving in a few seconds, automatically, from their data, problems that would take a man half a day to calculate the solution.

Less than a century ago, the worker worked twelve or even fifteen hours a day. Today, he works eight hours, and only five days a week. Tomorrow, thanks to the contribution of machines in all branches of his activity, he will work five hours, and soon two hours a day, or even less. The machines will do the work—machines so perfect that it will take only one man to supervise a whole team. In the end, man will hardly do anything. His life will be an unlimited holiday, during which he will have all the time he needs to ‘cultivate’ himself. As for the disadvantages of overpopulation, these will be remedied in advance by limiting births: the famous ‘family planning’.

At first sight, this is enough to seduce the optimists. But the reality will be less simple than the theory. It always is.

First of all, we must realise that no Malthusian policy can be fully effective on a global scale. It is easier to set up factories in technically least developed countries, and to give people who have hitherto lived close to the state of nature a taste for modern conveniences such as washing machines and television sets, than to encourage these same people to father only a limited number of children. Even the population of Western and Northern Europe, or the USA where the most modern methods of contraception are widely used, are growing, though not as fast as in other parts of the world—and will continue to grow as long as there are doctors to prolong the lives of the suffering, the infirm, the mentally retarded, and all those who should be dead.

The people of the so-called ‘underdeveloped’ countries are much less permeable than the citizens of Western Europe or the USA to anti-conception propaganda. If we really wanted to reduce the population to reasonable proportions, we would have to forcibly sterilise nine out of ten people, or else abolish the medical profession and hospitals, and let natural selection do its work, as it did before the madness of the technical age. But it is only us, the ugly ‘barbarians’ who would be prepared to resort to such measures. And we are not in power, and do not expect to be there any time soon.

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Editor’s Note: Precisely what in my soliloquies I call the extermination of the Neanderthals.
 

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The friends of man, who are at the same time fervent supporters of indefinite technical progress, will have to come to terms with a world in which human living space will become increasingly restricted, even if it means reducing to a minimum the areas still occupied by the forest, the savannah and the desert, the last refuges of noble living beings other than man, for the benefit of the so-called ‘thinking’ primate. It will no longer be the already swarming masses of currently overpopulated countries. These will be crowds twice, three times, ten times more compact than the one which today covers the immense ‘Esplanade’ of Calcutta around six o’clock in the evening, when the heat subsides. Wherever you go, you will be brushed against, elbowed, jostled—and occasionally, no doubt, knocked down and trampled on—by people and more people who, thanks to the machines, will have almost nothing left to do.

You have to be naive to believe that, as soon as the daily fatigue resulting from work ceases to exist for them, these billions of human beings will devote themselves to study, or to practise whatever pleasure art in which an important part of creation will enter. You only have to look around and see how today’s workers, who toil forty hours a week instead of ninety as they did a hundred years ago, use their leisure time.

They go to the café, to the cinema, attend some sports competition or, more often than not, listen to radio broadcasts at home, or remain seated in front of their television sets and avidly follow what is happening on the small screen.

Sometimes they read. But what do they read? What they find at their fingertips—because to know what you want to read, and to strive to find it, you have to be better informed than most people are.

What comes to hand, without their bothering to look for it, is usually either some periodical or book which, without being pernicious, is superficial and doesn’t make them think in any way, or a product of decadent or tendentious literature: something that distorts their taste or their minds (or both), or gives them inaccurate information, or info purposely interpreted in such a way as to inculcate in them a given opinion that the people in power want them to hold.

They read France-Soir, Caroline chérie, La mort est mon métier[1] or some pseudo-scientific article on the ‘conquest of space’ which gives them the impression of having been initiated into the mysteries of modern science, when in fact they have remained as ignorant as before, but have become a little more pretentious. There are, moreover, despite the enormous number of books which appear every year on every conceivable subject, fewer and fewer ‘books of substance’: those which a thinking man rereads a hundred times, always deriving some new enrichment from them, and to which he owes intuitions of great cosmic truths—even human truths in the name of which he would be able to start his life over again, if he could. The individuals who seek such books do not belong to the masses.
 

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Editor’s Note: This reminds me of my Sunday entry. As a teenager I asked in a bookstore: “¿Tienen libros en pro del nazismo? [Do you have books in favour of Nazism?]”. I still remember my exact words! Savitri continues:

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What will the billions of people of tomorrow’s world do with their time? Will they cultivate their minds, as our inveterate optimists think?

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Editor’s Note: When Savitri wrote her book I was a huge fan of 2001: A Space Odyssey. I was completely unaware that the novel’s author, Arthur C. Clarke, professed a starkly stupid optimism about technology. (Without exterminating Neanderthals, all technology does is launch human stupidity at the speed of light.)

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No, they won’t! They will do all day long what our good proletarians of 1970 do when they come back from the factory or the office, or during their month of paid leave: they will watch their small screen, and very obediently believe what the men in power will have introduced into the programmes so that they believe it.

They will go to the movies; will attend free conferences organised for them, always in the spirit of the leaders of the moment who will probably be the same as today, namely the victors of the Second World War: the Jews and the Communists, the devotees of the oldest and the most recent faith of our Dark Age, both centred on ‘man’. They will make organised trips with guides and light music, also indispensable, in transport vehicles, buses and planes, on the outward and return journey. In short, the life of perpetual or almost perpetual leisure will be regulated, directed, dictated by committees elected by universal suffrage, after adequate propaganda to the masses.

And that will be too bad for those who would have preferred to pursue in silence a creation they loved because they felt it was beautiful; or who would have liked to organise the world on other bases and according to another ideal. So much the worse for those—increasingly rare—who will refuse to let themselves be conditioned!

It will be, to some extent, Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World with the difference that instead of robots working in front of machines, it will be robots enjoying themselves on command and under the official planning of enjoyment, while the machines provide for their subsistence. One will no more choose how to use one’s leisure time than the majority of people today choose the occupation that will provide them with ‘food and shelter’. It will be presupposed—as is already the case, for example, in certain tourist buses, where one is forced to listen to the radio all along the route, whether one likes it or not—that all men have practically the same needs and tastes, which is in flagrant contradiction to the everyday experience among unconditioned people (fortunately, there are still a few of them today).

The aim is to give them all the same needs and tastes by means of ever more sophisticated, ever more ‘scientific’ conditioning.
 

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Editor’s Note: All this soft totalitarianism that we are already experiencing will collapse if Chris Martenson’s calculations on peak oil, which we have been advertising on this site, are correct.

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[1] By Robert Merle: a fanciful account of the German concentration camps.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 32

It is natural that he should want to do nothing to help ‘save’ a civilisation whose demise he wishes to see, and that the people who admire it should, more or less vaguely, smell the enemy in him. It is no less natural that a doctrine that runs against the tide of Time—a doctrine that preaches, in the name of a Golden Age ideal, revolt, and even violent action, against the ‘values’ of our decadent age and its institutions—should arouse his enthusiasm and secure his support: he is himself an individual of those I have called ‘men against Time’.

But why do the people who are the submissive and obedient children of our time turn out to be so dissatisfied and anxious? Why is it that this ‘progress’, in which they so firmly believe, doesn’t bring them, in the exercise of their profession, that minimum of joy without which all work is a chore?

It is because the technical environment doesn’t only act on the masses; it creates them from scratch. As soon as technical development exceeds a certain ‘critical point’, which is difficult to define, the human community, naturally hierarchical, tends to break up. Little by little it is replaced by the mass; the mass, that is to say above all the great number, with little or no hierarchy, because of unstable, shifting and unpredictable quality.

Quality is (statistically) always in inverse proportion to quantity. And the most nefarious technique from this point of view—the one most directly responsible for all the consequences of the indiscriminate formation of human masses on the surface of the globe—is undoubtedly medicine: the most harmful because it is the one that is in the most flagrant opposition to the spirit of Nature from one end of the scale of living beings; that which, instead of seeking to preserve the health, and any kind of biological priority of the strong, strives to cure diseases and prolong the lives of the weak by keeping alive the incurable, the monsters, the idiots, the insane, and all sorts of people whose removal in a society founded on sound principles would take for granted.

The result of the progress made by this technique—achieved at the cost of the most hideous experiments, practised on perfectly healthy and beautiful animals, which are tortured and dislocated, always in the name of man’s ‘right’ to sacrifice everything to his species—is that the number of men on earth is increasing in alarming proportions, while their quality decreases. You can’t have quality and quantity. You have to choose.

It is now a fact that the population of the world is growing geometrically; that, above all, the population of the hitherto ‘underdeveloped’ countries is growing faster than any other. These countries have not yet reached the technical level of the industrialised countries, but they have already been sent a host of doctors; they have already been indoctrinated into taking ‘hygienic measures’ which they didn’t know about, when they were not outright imposed on them.

As a result, the traditional occupations like working the land or various crafts are no longer sufficient to absorb the countless energies available. There will be unemployment and famine, unless mechanised industries are installed everywhere, that is to say, unless the immense majority of the population, whose numbers have quadrupled in thirty years, are turned into proletarians; unless they are torn away from their traditions, wherever they have retained any, and are forced into factories and work that, by its very nature—because it is mechanical—cannot be interesting.

Production will then skyrocket. It will be necessary to sell what has been manufactured. To do this, it will be necessary to persuade people to buy what they neither need nor want, to make them believe that they need it and to instil in them the desire for it at all costs. This will be the task of advertising.

People will fall for this deception because there are already too many of them to be moderately intelligent. It will take money for them to acquire what they don’t need, but have been persuaded to want. To earn it quickly, to spend it right away, they will agree to do boring jobs, jobs in which there is no creative element and that in a smaller society, with a slower life, nobody would want to do.

They will accept them, because technology and propaganda will have turned them into an increasingly uniform, or rather formless, multitude in which the individual exists, in fact, less and less while imagining himself to have more and more ‘rights’, and aspiring to more and more purchasable enjoyments—a caricature of the organic unity of the old hierarchical societies, where the individual thought himself nothing, but lived healthily and usefully, in his place, as a cell of a strong and flourishing body.

The key to discontent in everyday life, and especially in working life, is to be found in the two notions of multitude and haste.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 21

Now, as I said above, man is the only living being on earth who has, even within the same race, elites, and physical, mental and moral dregs; the only one who, not being strictly defined by his species, can rise (and sometimes does rise) above it, to the point of merging (or almost merging) with the ideal archetype that transcends it: the overman. But he can also stoop (and does stoop, in fact, more and more, in the age in which we live) below, not only the minimum level of value that one would hope to find in his race, but below all animate creatures: those who, prisoners of a sure instinct and a practical intelligence placed entirely at the service of this instinct, are incapable of revolt against the unwritten laws of their being, in other words, of sin.
 

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Editor’s Note: This is extremely important. A group of killer whales that play with a bloody seal as if it were a ball, or an ugly monkey eating a little gazelle alive in front of her mother, probably cannot help but ‘sin’ because of their biological prison. But white Christians, like the idiot who recently argued with Jared Taylor, sin by proclaiming themselves Jew-wise and following, at the same time, the commandments that the bully called Yahweh ordered for them: not to distinguish between races, as that famous verse by Paul says. See what I said this morning about how I immediately lose love to one of these, be they Christian or atheist.
 

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We are reproached for preferring the healthy and beautiful beast—what am I saying?—the healthy and beautiful tree to the fallen man whether it is one who, born in an inferior race in the process of approaching more and more the monkey, has no chance of ascending to superhumanity, either for himself or his descendants; or whether it is about individuals or groups of individuals of a superior race, but to whom any possibility of such an ascension is prohibited, because of physical, psychic or mental corruption, or all three at once, which they have inherited from degenerate ancestors, or acquired as a result of the life they have led.

In the preface he wrote for the first French edition of the Tischgespräche attributed to Adolf Hitler, and published under the title of Libres propos sur la Guerre et la Paix (Free remarks on war and peace), Count Robert d’Harcourt recalls that the Führer ‘loved animals’ and that he, in particular, wrote pages of charming freshness about dogs.[1] The French academician compares this with the cynicism of the Head of State, in whose eyes political wisdom was ‘in inverse ratio to humanity’.[2] ‘Humanity towards beasts’, he says, ‘bestiality towards men: we have known this mystery of coexistence’. And he adds that those who, in the German concentration camps, sent their victims to the gas chambers ‘were the same ones who bandaged, with a nurse’s delicacy, the leg of a wounded dog’.

To these remarks of an opponent of Hitlerism I would add all that the Führer did for the animal (and the tree itself) in the spirit of the immemorial Aryan conception of the world: the banning of traps, as well as of hunting with hounds, and the restriction of hunting of any kind, as far as this was still possible in German society; the suppression of vivisection—that disgrace to man—as well as of all the atrocities connected with the slaughter of animals.[3]

The use of the automatic pistol was compulsory in all cases, including that of pigs, and I met a peasant woman in Germany who assured me that she had served a four-year sentence in a concentration camp for having killed a pig with a knife (out of treachery, so as not to have to pay the man to whom she should have entrusted the painless slaughter of the animal). I would add that Adolf Hitler, himself a vegetarian, dreamed of completely eliminating the horrible slaughterhouse industry, even if it was to be ‘humanised’, step by step ‘after the war’, as he declared to Goebbels on 26 April 1942.

Nonetheles, far from shocking me by their contrast with all the exceptional measures taken against human beings currently or potentially dangerous, these laws and projects appear, to me, as one of the glories of the Third Reich: and one more reason to be proud of my Hitlerian faith.

Count Robert d’Harcourt represents the public opinion of the West in general, both Christian and rationalist. His point of view is that of all those who fought against us, and even of a part of those who collaborated with us, collaborated for strictly political reasons despite our ‘negation of man’, not because of it, in the name of a common scale of values.

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[1] Libres propos sur la Guerre et la Paix, 1952 edition, Preface, p. xxiii.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Reichsjagdgesetz: the complete collection of laws enacted under the Third Reich concerning hunting.

Published in: on September 30, 2021 at 2:01 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 21  

Kalki the Avenger

Editor’s note: In April of last year I quoted the final page of The Lightning and the Sun, a 1958 book by Savitri Devi (the year I was born). Now I quote a substantial section of the entire chapter:
 

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A short-sighted quest for indiscriminate individual enjoyment made him [the degenerate western male of our times] indifferent to the call to supermanhood. And he degraded himself ever more. Now, at the end of the Dark Age, the Edenic picture is completely reversed. Upon the surface of this unfortunate planet, which is loosing with alarming rapidity its once so broad and thick mantle of forests; of this unfortunate planet, where whole species of proud wild creatures—the aristocracy of the animal world—have already been or are being, with no less speed, wiped away—killed off to the last—one notices an increasingly obnoxious and steadily expanding swarm of dreary (when not positively ugly) vulgar, silly, worthless two-legged mammals. And the more worthless they are, the quicker they breed. The sickly and the dull have more children than the healthy and bright; the inferior races, and the people who have no race at all, definitely more than the hundred per cent Aryan; and the down-right rotten—afflicted both with hereditary diseases and racially undefinable blood—are, more often than not, terrifyingly fertile.

And everything is done to encourage that mad increase in number and that constant loss in quality. Everything is done to keep the sickly, the cripple, the freaks of nature, the unfit to work and unfit to live, from dying. One ‘prolongs’ as much as possible the lives of the incurable. One inflicts torture upon thousands of lovely, innocent, healthy animals, in the hope of discovering ‘new treatments’, so that deficient men, whom Nature has, anyhow, condemned to death, might last a few months—or a few weeks longer; so that they be patched up, or artificially given an illusion of vitality… while remaining a burden to the healthy. And that, whoever they may be; just because they are ‘human beings’.

Hospitals and asylums—bluntly described as such, or politely christened ‘homes’ are full of such dregs of humanity, old and young… while the healthy are (physically and morally) made unhealthy, through the conditions of life imposed upon them by a false civilisation: through joyless work and over-crowded houses lack of privacy; lack of leisure; through compulsory inoculations and cleverly advertised unnatural food; through nerve-wrecking mass-music, not to speak of a soul-killing, brain-softening mass-propaganda exalting unnatural values. Hospitals and asylums are, after slaughter-houses, one of the most depressing features of the advanced ‘Kali Yuga’ or Dark Age; the one which would automatically provoke the greatest disgust in the heart of a strong man of the beginning of this Age not to mention one out of the preceding ‘Dwapara Yuga’ and a fortiori out of a remoter Age, if such men could come back as they once were.

But why speak of hospitals and asylums? The streets are full of dregs of humanity, at least full of bastards and of sub-men. One only has to look at the faces one sees in the over-crowded buses, or in the cinemas and dancing-halls and cafes in large towns, nay even in small ones, even in the countryside, everywhere, save in those lands in which the dominant race is relatively pure. It is a pitiful sight; a pitiful world; a world up-side-down; a world in which the average cat or dog is, as such, immeasurably healthier, more beautiful—more perfect—than the average man or woman and a fortiori than the average post-1945 State ruler…

If only the ugly sub-men were capable of lofty thoughts—or simply of thought—that would be something! But they are not. And their leaders are worse than they, not better. True, they all speak of ‘free thinking’; speak of it, and write about it. They criticise their former friends (the Communists) for ‘killing individual thought’. Yet they are themselves the first ones to lack both freedom of judgement and individuality. They all have the same views; and the same ideal. Their views are those of the ruling press. Their ideal is to ‘get on in life’, i.e., to make money and to ‘be happy’, which means: to enjoy tasty food, fine clothing, lodgings provided with the latest commodities; and, in addition to that, as often as possible, a little drink, a little light music, a little sport, a little love-making.

Maybe, they call themselves Christians—or Hindus, or anything else. But whatever religion they might profess, their faith is skin-deep. Nothing, absolutely nothing more-than-personal—and, a fortiori, more-than-human—interests them. The one thing they all pray for, when they pray at all, is ‘peace’; not the unassailable, inner peace of the Best (of which they have not the foggiest experience), but peace in the sense of absence of war; the indefinite prolongation of a ‘status quo’ which allows them to think of to-morrow’s little pleasure without the fear of to-day’s deadly danger; peace, thanks to which they will, undisturbed—so they hope—be able to go on rotting in the midst of that increasing comfort, which technical progress secures them; peace, thanks to which they expect to remain (or gradually to become) happy—in the manner pigs are happy, when they have plenty to eat and clean straw to lie upon.

Accelerated technical progress is, along with accelerated human degeneracy, an all-important feature of the advanced Dark Age.

It is—or seems to be—the ‘triumph of man’ over Nature. And it is interpreted and exalted as such by the sub-men, all the more proud of it that they have nothing else—no real, living culture; no disinterested work or knowledge-to be proud of. It is—or seems to be—the ‘proof’ of man’s superiority over all other sentient beings; the ‘proof’ of his superiority en bloc, regardless of race, for… a Negro can drive a motorcar, can’t he?

And there are very clever Jewish doctors. It forwards or strengthens the age-old superstition of ‘man’, which lies at the root of all decay. It is, or seems to be, the way to universal ‘happiness’; the ideal of those increasing millions—and soon, milliards—who have no ideal. In fact, it helps the ruling powers of the Dark Age, the skilful agents of the forces of disintegration, to keep the millions under their control. For, paradoxical as this may sound, masses who can read and write are easier to enslave than masses who cannot, and nothing is so easy to subdue and to keep down as masses who consider their wireless and television sets and cinema shows as indispensable necessities of life. (The modern men ‘against Time’ know that, as well as the men ‘in Time’. Only they do not dispose of the inexhaustible financial resources of the latter.)

Technical progress, in all fields in which it does not automatically imply cruelty towards man or beast (or plant) [1], is not a bad thing in itself. Actually, it is not it that makes the Dark Age.

What makes the Dark Age is the fall of all but an extreme minority of men to the level of a brainless (and heartless) herd, and, at the same time, their endless increase in number. And technical progress is a curse only inasmuch as it is the most powerful instrument in the hands of all those who, directly or indirectly, encourage that indiscriminate increase and, consequently, forward that herd-mentality (even if they do not explicitly intend to); in the hands of the doctors who keep the weak and deficient and mongrels alive, and do nothing to prevent further such ones from being born: in the hands of the politicians ‘in Time’ who, precisely because they all share—like the doctors—the age-old superstition of ‘man’ and of man’s individual ‘happiness’ at any cost, are opposed to any systematic selection in view of the survival and welfare of the healthiest, let alone to systematic racial selection also, in view of the survival and rule of an all-round biological human aristocracy.

As I said above, technical progress and its wonders could just as easily be put to the service of a decidedly ‘life-centred’ philosophy ‘against Time’; of an aristocratic doctrine of personal and racial quality, such as National Socialism, if only the exponents of such a doctrine could maintain themselves in power in this advanced Age of Gloom—which they cannot.

The reason why they cannot is not that there exist electric trains and electric irons, radios and television sets, aeroplanes and washing machines and ‘electronic brains’ and all manner of major and minor commodities, products of technical skill, but that the overwhelming majority of mankind in this Age—the more and more numerous and duller and duller herd of all races, in process of general bastardisation—is against any and every aristocratic wisdom. The reason is that the millions and millions—soon milliards—of sub-men feel themselves threatened in their dream of pig-like ‘happiness’, nay, in their no less pig-like existence, by whoever embodies such a wisdom ‘against Time’. The reason is that the increasingly powerful agents of the death-forces, natural leaders of this Age, use radio, cinema, television, and all technical means that money can secure, to excite the unthinking herd against the Best, while doing everything they cart, through the advertisement of more and more wonderful commodities, to keep the average man’s slumbering mind away from higher things—away from every aspiration ‘against Time’; away from every aggressive criticism of the fundamental Dark Age dogmas and, in general, away from all impersonal problems… until its slumber ends in the definitive sleep of death.

It is not—surely not!—technical progress as such which so deeply shocks Kalki’s future compagnons at arms (or the fathers of such ones), those natural aristocrats of the youngest human race, whom I have described as ‘the Best’. It is the glaring disparity between the perfection of modern technical achievements considered as ‘means’ and the worthlessness of the ends to the service of which they are put; it is the contrast between that wonderful Aryan intelligence, which stands and shines behind practically every discovery of modern science, every invention of modern technique, and the steadily increasing degeneracy of the sub-human multitudes who enjoy the products of its creative ingenuity in daily life, as a matter of course, nay, who, through their misuse of them, are sinking lower and lower into that brainless and soulless ‘happiness’—I repeat: that pig-like ‘happiness’—which is the ideal of our times.

That ideal is the one forwarded, under one form or another, more and more unmistakably in the course of centuries, by all typical Dark Age leaders ‘in Time’, in particular, by that most efficient of all agents of the Dark Powers during the last two thousand four hundred years (at least) and specially during the last three or four hundred years: the international Jew. The advanced Dark Age of this present Time-cycle is the reign of the Jew—of the negative element; of the reverser of eternal values for the sake of ‘human’ ones, and, finally, for that of his own, selfish interests; the reign of the ‘destroyer of culture’, as Adolf Hitler so rightly pointed out; of the age-old ‘ferment of disintegration’. It is natural that ‘ferments of disintegration’ should become more and more active—more and more alive—as a Time-cycle nears its end…

They, the Jews, have preached meekness and forgiveness and pacifism (to all, save to their own people) in order to rob the young, warlike Aryan race of its stamina; in order to kill its healthy pride. They are, now more feverishly than ever, encouraging its adolescents to make fun of ‘Nazi prejudices’, to despise purity of blood, and to marry outside their race (if thus be the impulse of ‘individual love’)—so that the race may disappear; encouraging them into perdition, both through the old superstition of ‘man’ under its various modern forms, and through the whole atmosphere of subtle corruption in which the post-1945 world is literally soaking.

They must win—and they shall win—for the time being. Otherwise, it would not yet be the End. They must—and shall—see their dream—their immemorial dream of easy domination over a peaceable, ‘happy’ hotch-potch of bastardised millions and ever more millions, that their long-drawn disintegrating action has rendered even more contemptible than they—at a hair’s breadth from its complete materialisation. Otherwise, the measure of iniquity—the measure of untruth—would not be full. And it would not yet be time for ‘Kalki’—the Avenger—to come…

It is impossible to say ‘where’ He will appear…

According to the laws of development in Time which are those of the logic of history, Kalki, the Avenger, the final Redeemer, can only belong to the youngest race of our Time-cycle: the Aryan…

Will He be none other than He whom I have described as the One-before-the-last Man ‘against Time’—Adolf Hitler—returning with more-than-human power? There is no reason why this should not be, provided the inspired Leader still be alive, and provided the world becomes, within his life-time, ripe for the great End (which would in no way be a wonder, at the rate decay has set in everywhere, after 1945). The terrible experience of defeat through treason, and the sight of the systematic degradation of his people through far subtler and deadlier means than the ridiculous ‘de-nazification’ rules and regulations, would probably be enough to rouse the Führer’s ‘Lightning’ qualities until they balance in him the ‘Sun’ ones and make him a new man—infinitely more merciless than he was in his first career…

And ‘Kalki’ will be nearer to and more intimately connected with the latest great Man ‘against Time’, Adolf Hitler, than with any of the many former ones. For He—the last One—is, as I said in the beginning of this study, none other than the One of Whom the Führer spoke when, with that unfailing cosmic intuition that raises him so high above the cleverest of Dark Age politicians, he told Hans Grimm, in 1928: ‘I know that Somebody must come forth and meet our situation. I have sought him. I have found him nowhere; and therefore I have taken upon myself to do the preparatory work, only the most urgent preparatory work. For that much I know: I am not He. And I know also what is lacking in me’.

He is that One. And He will, in the midst of the most hopeless circumstances, continue the old—the perennial—Struggle against the downward stream of Time—the Struggle which the disaster of 1945 has apparently, but only apparently, interrupted—and bring it to a victorious end for a few myriads of years; make Adolf Hitler’s dream, through means that were yet unthinkable during (or before) the Second World war, a glaring reality for a few myriads of years.

The means cannot be foretold, for things will have changed, by then. Things are changing—and the science of war, progressing—every day. One point is, however, as a main feature of every recurring ‘great End’, beyond doubt: ‘Kalki’ will act with unprecedented ruthlessness. Contrarily to Adolf Hitler, He will spare not a single one of the enemies of the divine Cause: not a single one of its outspoken opponents but also not a single one of the luke-warm, of the opportunists, of the ideologically heretical, of the racially bastardised, of the unhealthy, of the hesitating, of the all-too-human; not a single one of those who, in body or in character or mind, bear the stamp of the fallen Ages.

As I said before, His companions at arms will be the last National Socialists; the men of iron who will have victoriously stood the test of persecution and, what is more, the test of complete isolation in the midst of a dreary, indifferent world, in which they have no place; who are facing that world and defying it through every gesture, every hint—every silence—of theirs and, more and more (in the case of the younger ones,) without even the personal memory of Adolf Hitler’s great days to sustain them; those I have called ‘gods on earth’ and parents of such ones.

They are the ones who will, one day, make good for all that which men ‘against Time’ have suffered in the course of history, like they themselves, for the sake of eternal truth: the avenging Comrades whom the Five Thousand of Verden called in vain within their hearts at the minute of death, upon the bank of the Aller River, red with blood; those whom the millions of 1945—the dying; the tortured; and the desperate survivors—called in vain; those whom all the vanquished fighters ‘against Time’ called in vain, in every phase of the great cosmic Struggle without beginning, against the Forces of disintegration, co-eternal with the Forces of Life.

They are the bridge to supermanhood, of which Nietzsche has spoken; the ‘last Battalion’ in which Adolf Hitler has put his confidence. Kalki will lead them, through the flames of the great End, into the sunshine of the new Golden Age…

We like to hope that the memory of the One-before-the-last and most heroic of all our Men ‘against Time’—Adolf Hitler—will survive, at least in songs and symbols, in that long Age of earthly Perfection which ‘Kalki’, the last One, is to open. We like to hope that the Lords of the new Time-cycle, men of his own blood and faith, will render him divine honours, through rites full of meaning and full of potency, in the cool shade of the endless re-grown forests, on the beaches, or upon inviolate mountain-peaks, facing the rising Sun.

But even if it be not so, still he will, like all his divine predecessors, live, throughout the ages in the faithful consciousness of the Universe, the life-rhythm of which he symbolises. Still the long and more and more intense and finally almost desperate aspiration ‘against Time’, which characterises every recurring Time-cycle as soon as decay has set in obviously enough to be felt, will be, every time, a new expression of that self-same yearning after manifested Perfection for the sake of which he fought and lost; a new, long-drawn cosmic outcry, proclaiming that he was right in spite of all.

And still every further Golden Age to come—every successive Dawn of Creation—will be the living materialisation of his highest dream; a further hymn of glory, proclaiming, every time for myriads of years, that he—He—has once more won.

____________

[1] Destruction of forests, for instance.

SS vs. racialists

I just removed this image from my Monday post because I changed my mind and now I want to use the below image of José Raúl Capablanca on the cover of the Spanish version (an image of Alexander Alekhine will appear on the cover of the English translation).

Note the size of the pieces with which the masters played in Capablanca’s time and compare it with the reduced size with which chess is played in official tournaments today. And the same can be said about the clothing from a century ago compared to the shitty T-shirts of today: courtesy of American culture. The collapse of the Aryan man can be seen from the way we dress to the music we listen to, which prompts me to say something more about another of the booklets published by Third Reich Books: Translations of the Originals.

This booklet is titled The SS Calls You! and is addressed to very young Germans. When I got to page 7, I couldn’t help but think that I shouldn’t visit again the sites of white nationalism, as they are crap compared to this fighting spirit. It is precisely because the US is founded on that materialistic phrase that contains the misleading word ‘happiness’ that makes America the antithesis of the Aryan hero.

Page 64 and others mention music as career number 87: ‘SS officer and SS music officer’. It refers to classical music of course. How many American racialists repudiate the degenerate music of their country to the point of never hearing it? And page 66 says ‘Sooner or later your son will become a soldier’. We can imagine saying that to racialist libertarians!

Many of those who visit this site do not take seriously what I said here. For example, the final pages of the booklet are about the Insignia Colours of the Waffen-SS. Those in the concentration camps got light brown. Could an American racialist, say one of those libertarians who comment on AmRen, conceive one of his children with light-brown insignia during a project of ethnic cleansing on American soil?

By the way, of the original 206 participants of the 2021 Chess World Cup, in the semi-finals, which will start tomorrow, all non-whites have been disqualified. Only four whites remain: the champion Magnus Carlsen, the Russian Sergey Karjakin, the Polish Jan-Krzysztof Duda and another Russian, Vladimir Fedoseev. Yesterday, Karjakin eliminated the American Sam Shankland, who is not properly white. As long as Americans continue to mix their blood with non-whites thanks to their declaration of independence from Europe and all that stuff about ‘life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’, they will never have another Morphy or a Fischer.

I will dedicate this weekend to polishing the typeface of The Human Side of Chess for publication.

Published in: on July 31, 2021 at 12:03 pm  Comments (5)  

O’Meara’s handwriting

Currently I only spend a couple of minutes and sometimes only seconds a day while visiting the racialist sites of the Americans. Curious as to what they said on July 4th, considering what I said that day, I listened to a fraction of a Greg Johnson guest on his podcast and the titles of Brad Griffin’s articles (I think from now on I’ll call him on his real name instead of his penname Hunter Wallace).

I was surprised that Greg’s guest talked about the American flag. Perhaps I am wrong, but in the mere fraction I listened to, his ideology was indistinguishable from what you can hear on Fox News, which reaches an audience incomparably larger than these sites of American racialism. Funny, I thought to myself, since Michael O’Meara, the first featured author in 2009 and 2010 when Greg began his career at TOQ Online, was aware, like Yockey, that things were wrong with the founding principles of his country:

Believing herself God’s favorite, this New Zion aspired—as a Promised Land of liberty, equality, fraternity—to jettison Europe’s aesthetic and aristocratic standards for the sake of its religiously-inspired materialism. Hence, the bustling, wealth-accumulating, tradition-opposing character of the American project, which offends every former conception of the Cosmos.

For the source of O’Meara’s quote see: here. Nothing could be further from what we hear today on forums from American racialists than what Yockey and O’Meara saw. I think Ronin is correct in calling names on today’s white nationalists, such as patriotards, not true racists.

If they were the latter, they would want to learn Scandinavian languages or German, repudiate the golden calf, revalue their values and the centre of gravity would revolve around Europe, as we see on this Twitter account that only posts photos of Aryan architecture and beauty. Instead of repudiating their country they make the Jews the primal threat, the easy way out intellectually so as not to see the beam in their own eye.

Jared Taylor seems to exemplify patriotardism. He wrote on July 4 about what his country’s founders had in mind (again, I only read the title, not his article). It is curious that an ad for the book in which O’Meara summarised his views appeared within the essays of The Occidental Observer in 2010. The ad was a pic of another copy of the book that shows O’Meara’s handwriting above, addressing me by my first name.

It is true what Jack F. says of Ronin’s unreadable prose. But a close reading of O’Meara’s essays, which can still be read online (see ‘External links’ here), are much more eloquent than what Ronin or I can say here because, unlike O’Meara, Ronin and I aren’t Americans. It is a pity that Michael O’Meara, who is still alive, is no longer intellectually active.

Kill the boy

‘Kill the Boy’ is the fifth episode of the fifth season of HBO’s fantasy television series Game of Thrones, and the 45th overall. A healthy world in which the good guys won the war of the previous century wouldn’t present us with a romance between two mulattoes like the one we see in this episode. Worse still, in her efforts to pacify the civil war in Meereen, the blonde Dany proposes to a high-born mulatto from that city.

Regardless of those toxic messages for the mental health of the Aryans, there are strong cinematographic flaws in the episode. Remember what I said about the silly scenes of violence when Bran and company reached their destination? Something similar happens in this episode, and precisely in another mysterious area that required calm and tranquillity, like the movies of yesteryear. I mean the scene that immediately follows when Tyrion spots Drogon in the sky, in awe. The scriptwriters spoiled the entire magical setting with an attack by some kind of lepers: a scene that completely broke the rhythm of the film, just as they broke it when Bran reached the outskirts of Bloodraven’s cave.

This is a problem with modern cinema, so ready to abuse special effects at the cost of the plot. When I was a child at least some films made us reflect, occasionally with artistic masterpieces. Nowadays, the multi-million dollar productions can be summed up in a formula: All for the eye, nothing for the mind. That is why, when Martin apparently advised something ‘for the mind’ in the grand finale the fans didn’t get it.

Two years ago I wrote on this site several posts about how it was that the idiotic fans of today’s cinema didn’t get it. But let’s go back to the present episode. In the scene that precedes the silly scene of the ‘lepers’ attackers, Tyrion deduces that Jorah is taking a shortcut through Valyria. The shots when they enter the smoky sea are well thought out and set us in a mysterious place.

Valyria, also called Old Valyria, was a city in Essos and the former capital of the Valyrian Freehold. In times of the internal chronology of Martin’s novels, what we now see on the screen is in ruins, consumed by time. It had been destroyed along with the entire empire by a cataclysm known as the Doom of Valyria, more than four centuries before.

Published in: on April 9, 2021 at 5:13 pm  Comments Off on Kill the boy  

Yockey, Mason, Wallace

Hunter Wallace, who yesterday posted that thing about the resurrected Jew, whom American racists still adore, today posted:

National Socialists and Fascists – As the history of this blog shows, I have never had any interest in classical fascism or National Socialism. There have been people who have been trying to build a fascist or National Socialist movement in America as far back as the 1930s and they have never had any success with it for a variety reasons. The most important reason is that it is a foreign ideology and American culture has Anglo-Saxon roots. Americans are individualistic and dislike being organized. They don’t have a fascist temperament or even a strong and pervasive sense of ethnic identity. When Americans try to do fascism, they come across less as the historical National Socialists than as Americans.

Very true. But that can only mean that America is a failed culture. Let’s compare it to what James Mason wrote thirty-five years ago:

There is and always has been a Jewish Conspiracy ever since contact has existed between Jews and Europeans. I will say that no professional revolutionary can hope to be real unless he is fully familiar with each aspect of the Jewish Question. It is only part of his basic education. Again, it is but one factor among many and this is where the Movement has been failing for so long… And though the number of them directly involved in it condemns them by proportion to their total population, the Beast System is still basically manned and operated by renegade, sold-out Whites. What we are fighting has always been, and will always be, a sickness from within [italics in the original]…

This explains why the entire German nation had to be incinerated in the course of the War, why their entire government had to be murdered. It wasn’t just a man or a party, it was the whole country, or at least those elements that counted most. And so Hitler’s Movement was not the kooky, funny thing we see here in America today. It was truly representative of the will of the German people…

We’re talking about a very large body of people who have sold out, or, perhaps better put, have burnt out. With no vital signs left. Yet, to remove them would be to see the U.S. at an end. Not to remove them will be to see another Africa arise on the North American Continent. It is not so much a conspiracy as it is a head being out of touch with its body but yet striving to make certain that the body becomes as vile and perverse as the head, thus spelling doom for the entire organism… It must be death [emphasis in the original] to an entire strata of the population… and a new, fresh ruling elite established from the ranks of the natural peasantry or yeomanry, before that too has been eaten away from the inside out and nothing remains of it.

Those words appeared in Volume XV, # 3 of March 1986 of Mason’s collected newsletters. What Wallace and those who comment on Occidental Dissent ignore is that the United States must die, as an entire forest dies after a very great fire, so that the new shoots sprout from the ashes: a new forest that has nothing to do with either Christianity or the US infatuation for Mammon, as Yockey put it in his own transvaluation of American values back to old European values.

America delenda est.

The laws of gods and men

‘The Laws of Gods and Men’ is the sixth episode of the fourth season of HBO’s fantasy television series Game of Thrones, and the 36th overall. In the image we see Stannis at the beginning of the episode, at the Iron Bank, asking for money for a new attempt to recover the crown. But the absolutely repulsive thing is that, after that scene, in the spas of Braavos, the director of that episode, Alik Sakharov, has filmed naked blacks, mulattos and swarthy men with very white women, also naked.

If in a previous post I said that Game of Thrones fans were the worst dung since prehistory, it’s precisely due to their lack of rebellion against scenes like this. If white males don’t rebel against the ongoing miscegenation, even what we openly see on the street (such as what I saw a few years ago in London) the race is lost. Ultra-feminist scenes follow with Yara wanting to rescue her brother. But the single scene described above is enough to make me disgusted and reluctant to comment on anything about the rest of the episode.

I don’t think I should have spent my money buying the entire seasons of this series on Blu-ray. But maybe it’s time to say something important.

If there is something that irritates me greatly when watching the videos of the fans on YouTube, it is that some among them seem to know by heart each page that Martin has written with all the subplots, stories that precedes what we saw in Game of Thrones (as we also see in the LOTR appendix from the pen of J.R.R. Tolkien), names, geographic locations and much more.

If the worst generation wasn’t the worst, they would instead know in detail the history of the West, and especially what really happened in World War II.

Fiction has the magic of captivating us. In contrast, the harsh and heartless facts of real life, say what can be read in The Gulag Archipelago, are so disturbing that we tend not to go beyond the first pages. That’s why in the only comment on my new sticky post I keep announcing Goodrich’s book as the first of my required readings. In the real world the bad guys win, as opposed to fiction for the masses.

Next time I’m willing to spend what I spent buying the entire series, instead of some other Jewish-produced stupidity for the worst gentile dung in history I’ll buy David Irving’s books, or Wagner’s operas videos with subtitles to English. But at least there’s something good that came out of this purchase: it forced me to criticise every episode, which I will continue to do until I get to the finale in May.

Published in: on March 31, 2021 at 2:33 pm  Comments Off on The laws of gods and men