See you at the Leaky Cauldron?

Harry-Potter_Leaky_Cauldron_signSoon I will pay a visit to London and other towns in the U.K.

Anyone interested in joining me with a beer in a pub?

Cheers!

Published in: on June 17, 2014 at 12:22 pm  Comments (18)  

The Drink of Despair

I am writing this entry from a borrowed computer. It now looks like I’ll need some time to stabilize my financial situation, probably overseas, to the point of resuming my blogging.

Meanwhile I’d like to add something to what I had said in previous entries, that in order to understand our woes you must purchase and read a copy of Tom Goodrich’s Hellstorm: The Death of Nazi Germany (1944-1947).

Readers of this book have complained a lot that a detailed account of the Allies’ atrocities committed during and after the Second World War—a true Holocaust of German victims—is too ghastly and painful to contemplate. The author himself told me that he died “a thousand deaths” while writing Hellstorm.

In his Archipelago Solzhenitsyn said that in prison you have to “eat a mountain” of pain to be able to metamorphose your soul instead of becoming mad, as other zeks became mad in the Gulag. He meant to cross the dark night of the soul all the way through the other side. Some passages of his book convey beautifully what I want to say here. However, since in these times very few young westerners have read Solzhenitsyn, I must find a metaphor to explain the same dilemma to a broader audience.

Drink_of_Despair

In the Harry Potter film when Dumbledore dies (a silly film but it makes my point), Dumbledore explains a mysterious potion, the Drink of Despair, to his pupil:
 

Harry: “You think the Horcrux is in there, sir?”

Dumbledore: “Oh yes. But how to reach it? This potion cannot be penetrated by hand… I can only conclude this potion is supposed to be drunk.”

Dumbledore drinks the potion to the point of experiencing extreme fear, delirium, and thirst but that was the only way to reach the Horcrux.

I would say the same about Hellstorm. If we are to find and destroy the Judeo-liberal Horcrux that presently is making our enemy invulnerable, there’s no other way but to endure the torment of reading Hellstorm from cover to cover.

You really got to drink that potion, and then talk with your pupil-friends about it, to understand the whys of the West’s darkest hour…

Harry Potter’s niglets


Operation Order Number Five:

“Anyone, man, woman or child
with skin the color of shit
is to be shot on sight.
They had their chance to
leave over the past five years.”

In Harold Covington’s fantasy novels, after the ethnostate was created “the theaters were showing virtually nothing made after 1965 or so,” and a technique was developed to fix a few films made from the late 1960s to the first decades of the 21st century. The technique allowed the film industry to replace black faces with white faces in those famous movies for kids that merited inclusion in the reformed theaters.

I stole the subtitles under the following images from Robert Berry, who analyzes the black student body of Hogwarts Academy in the very first of the Potter films:


HP1

This is Lee Jordan. With a good two minutes of screen-time in this movie, he’s the most prominent black character in the film. While some students focus on potions, spells, or the dark arts, Lee is apparently attending Hogwarts on a sports scholarship.



HP2

Next we have an unnamed boy whose function at the school is almost limited to giving funny looks when someone says something startling. As the closed caption excerpt shows, he at least gets a line of dialogue, which makes him the only other black character in the movie that does.



HP3

This mysterious Gryffindor Quidditch player has a few cool action scenes, and scores some points for her team, but doesn’t contribute much else after she’s knocked unconscious from her broom. Though not named in the film, the books identify her as Angelina Jordan.


HP4

The rest of the roles are merely extras. Here we have the same unnamed boy mentioned above, with two girls among the first year inductees.


HP5

And at the Hufflepuff table, if you blink, you’ll miss this
black chap talking with his buddies, near the movie’s end.



HP6

Here there are three more during a slightly chaotic
scene in the banquet hall.



HP7

And here’s a girl just waiting in the hallway,
staring at Harry mysteriously as they walk by.



HP8

The gent on the right looks like
Gary Coleman’s pal “Dudley” from Strokes!



HP9

Here’s the only appearance from this lighter skinned black
student during the “Sorting Hat” sequence at the film’s start.



HP10

And when it appeared that all the black students were a part of the Gryffindor group, a quick eye can catch two Slytherin students during the big Quidditch match.


HP11

And here’s another, but she seems to be the least enthusiastic of the bunch. Kind of hard to be too excited, I imagine, when the leader of the Aryan Nation, Draco Malfoy (the blond at the center: the bad kid of the film), is the most dominant student in the class.


HP12

Two girls that you’ll never see again in the film.


HP13

A boy who appears for this split second during the mail delivery
scene as a member of Gryffindor, only to never show up again, either.



HP14

There are a few black adults in the faculty as well. Here’s a gender neutral wizard to the right of Dumbledore in a rare shot in which candles aren’t hovering in front of her/his face.


HP15

And seated next to Professor Snape are two other black
faculty members. We never see them again, either.



The above pics come, as already said, from the first Potter film. But in that very film outside Hogwarts I remember an adult black face in the Leaky Cauldron pub, and another face with skin the color of shit in Diagon Alley.

When the producers of the series changed directors after the second Potter film, the inclusion of niglets and black adult wizards became even more apparent. The sixth film, when the characters reach full-blown adolescence, was the most offensive: a beautiful teen English rose, Ginny Weasley, one of the main characters of the series, is engaged with a black student and even kisses him passionately on the mouth.

But the perpetrator here was none other than the author herself, J. K. Rowling. Indeed, compared to Rowling’s book, in the movie comparatively little of Ginny’s relationship with the young negro is depicted.

A postscript to my prolegomena

Further to what I said yesterday.

A deeper response to the questions raised by Stubbs would imply reminding my readers that, at the end of his Critique of Practical Reason, Kant said that there are two universes: the empirical universe and the subjective universe. Karl Popper comments that he who doesn’t believe in the second universe would do well to think about his own death—it is so obvious that a whole universe dies when a human being dies!

What I find nauseating in today’s academia is that it is an institution that denies the existence of this second universe. One could imagine what would happen if a student of psychology or psychiatry tried to write a lyric essay about why Nietzsche lost his mind, like the one that Stefan Zweig wrote and I have been excerpting for WDH. (And wait for the next chapters where Zweig’s story reaches its climax…)

A proper response to Stubbs would require an absolute break from the epistemological error, a category error, so ubiquitous in the academia. That is to say, we must approach such questions as if they were questions for our inner worlds.

The best way to respond to Stubbs, following what I have said about psychoclasses, is imagining that few whites have touched the black monolith of the film 2001. Those who have touched it—and here we are talking of the “second” universe that the current paradigm barely acknowledges—know that the most divine creature on Earth, the nymph, must be preserved at all costs.

This is not the sphere of objective science. Since we are talking of the ideals of our souls, let me confess that I became a white nationalist in 2009 when I lived in the Spanish island Gran Canaria, near Africa. The big unemployment that started in 2008 affected me and, without a job and completely broke, I spent a great deal of time in the internet. When I learned that a demographic winter was affecting all of the white population on planet Earth I was watching a Harry Potter film featuring a blondest female teenager. I remember that I told to myself something to the effect that, henceforward, I would defend the race with all of my teeth and claws.

However, to understand this universe I would have to tell the (tragic) story of the nymph Catalina: a pure white rose who happened to live around my home’s corner decades ago, who looked like the girl in that Parrish painting. But I won’t talk about the tragedy (something of it is recounted in Hojas Susurrantes). Suffice it to say that since then my mind has been devoted to her beauty and, by transference, it is now devoted to protect all genotype & phenotype that resembles hers…

Once we are talking from our own emergent universe (emergent compared to the Neanderthals who have not touched the monolith), Stubb’s questions are easily answered if one only dares to speak out what lies within our psyches:

So let me think of some fundamental questions that need to be answered: Why does it matter if the White race exists, if the rest of the humans are happy?

Speaks my inner universe: Because the rest of humans are like Neanderthals compared to Cro-Magnon whites. Here in Mexico I suffer real nightmares imagining the fate of the poor animals if whites go completely extinct (Amerinds are incapable of feeling the empathy I feel for our biological cousins).

Why does it matter if the White race continues to exist if I personally live my life out in comfort?

Speaks my inner universe: Because only pigs think like that. (Remember the first film of the Potter series, when Hagrid used magic to sprout a pig’s tail from Dudley’s fat bottom for gulping down Harry’s birthday cake.) We have a compromise with God’s creation even when a personal God does not exist.

Why should I be concerned with the White race if it only recently evolved from our ape-like ancestors, knowing that change is a part of the universe?

Speaks my inner universe: Because our mission is that we, not others, touch again the black monolith after four million years that one of our ancestors touched it.

Why should I be concerned with the existence of the White race if every White person is mortal, and preserving each one is futile?

Speaks my inner universe: It is a pity that no one has read The Yearling that I had been excerpting recently. I wanted to say something profound in the context of child abuse but that is a subject that does not interest WDH readers. Let me hint to what I thought after reading it.

To my mind the moral of the novel is not the moment when the father coerced his son to shoot Flag, but the very last page of Marjorie’s masterpiece. Suddenly Jody woke up at midnight and found himself exclaiming “Flag!” when his pet was already gone.

moment of eternity

The poet Octavio Paz once said that we are mortals, yes: but those “portions of eternity,” as a boy playing with his yearling, are the sense of the universe. The empirical (now I am talking of the external) universe was created precisely to give birth to these simple subjective moments: figments that depict our souls like no other moments in the universe’s horizon of events.

Why should I be concerned with preserving the White race if all White people who live will suffer, some horribly, and none would suffer if they were wiped out?

Speaks my inner universe: The boy suffered horribly when his father obliged him to murder Flag, yes. But the moment of eternity, as depicted in Wyeth’s illustration, had to be lived. It will probably leave a mark if another incarnation of the universe takes place…

“Expecto Patronum!”

Or:

The stolen soul back to the Aryan body



The Occidental Observer (TOO) has just closed what seems to be the last thread where people were still commenting after Dr. Kevin MacDonald decided to close comments, presumably because he has no time to monitor all the threads. I could not even reply to a question raised by the article’s author herself (but I would be glad to respond here, in the comments section).

Since my last posts at WDH dealt with German people carrying an enormous weight of guilt—a false sense of guilt insofar as the system hid from them both the First and the Third Acts of WW2 opera, to use the metaphor of one of my recent posts—, it seems pertinent to quote some inspiring words that Heike, a German woman, posted just before the comments were closed:

Du sollst an Deutschlands Zukunft glauben,
An deines Volkes Auferstehen.
Lass diesen Glauben dir nicht rauben,
Trotz allem, allem was geschehen.

English translation:

You must believe in the future of Germany,
In your people’s resurrection.
Let this faith you do not rob,
Despite everything, everything done.

—Albert Matthäi

The following was my last comment at TOO. Addressing Heike I wrote (the italicized paragraph are her words):

Thank you for your kind words.

Those that hate being German and try to destroy everything German are in a coma. You know, people in a coma have a chance of waking up—though uncommon, especially after such a long time of being in one.

Like the Romantics of Woodsworth’s age, I spend lots of time in long walks. One of the things that I have told me over and over during those walks is that the Aryan people are like Sirius Black in the Harry Potter film when Black was unconscious after being attacked by the Dementors. [“Dementors” = the Second Act of the WW2 “opera”—Holocaustianity] Before Harry sees a distant figure cast a powerful Patronus, Black is having his soul sucked out his mouth in the form of a small, glowing, white dot. Following medieval imagery, after the Patronus charm the white dot returns inside Black’s mouth.

[YouTube clip: here]

Harry’s invocation of the Patronus later on the film is the climax of this movie for kids. And it is exactly what the Germanic peoples need: a powerful spell to bring their stolen souls back to their bodies.

I believe this can be done by conveying the Holodomor and Hellstorm message through the spoken word…

Only in the movies…

In “Already Dead: The Manifesto of a Blonde Beast,” Andy Nowicki, who has been tempted by the dark side and passed the test, as can be guessed in his novella The Columbine Pilgrim, writes that Breivik “committed an abominable act, and to regard him a hero since he was on ‘our’ side puts on the same level as the type of idiot leftist who idolizes a thug like Che Guevara…”

In the coming Holy Racial War in Western Europe, what would the “dark side” would be? Nowicki explains what he read in Breivik’s manifesto:

Breivik also counsels the commission of “deadly and strategic attacks” against unarmed groups of Muslim women, as he thinks that this will have the benefit of enraging and radicalizing the men, “inciting them to choose the path of Jihad prematurely” and thus assuring a quicker victory for indigenous Europeans. He regrets the necessity of taking so cold-blooded an approach, but reconciles it with his notion of justice by that age-old formula for justifying atrocities: to make an omelet, you have to crack some eggs.

In the comments section I immediately took issue with Nowicki’s “Harry Potter” approach:

* * *


Do you know that through the novels Harry never uses “Avara Kadavra”, the killing spell against the bad guys? He merely uses the disarming charm, “Expelliarmus.” But only in the movies for children the Harry characters win. In real life you have to make a transition to the dark side to become a good soldier.

I have read The Turner Diaries twice. When I read it for the first time I didn’t like the Breivik-like cruelties: for example the killing of an innocent black—the first killing of the novel—or an entire group of nationalist white warriors in Toronto for not taking care of the Jewish Problem almost at the end of the Holy Racial War. And in the Day of the Rope many innocent young women (and men) also die. Then I read Covington’s Quartet. I sensed a moral difference. Covington’s characters are not so cruel, in the sense of so many innocents dying too, as Pierce’s characters. I imagine myself doing the things in Covington’s novels. But some passages of the Diaries make me wonder…

But you know? Pierce was ultimately right. As soldiers of The Order, we must be like the walking dead. The difference with the Quartet (Uncle Harold hasn’t finished the fifth novel) and the Diaries is that in Pierce’s world not only an ethno-state is born: in the final pages it’s described that only the white race shall inherit the Earth.

This final item of the Diaries is too strong meat to digest in a mere blog comment and I won’t go further with that, save saying that if completely heartless people followed the cruel script you quoted above, the chances of setting fire on Europe by provoking the Muslim population that way would be infinitely greater than the Expelliarmus charm that this blogsite seems to promote.