Mexico in a nutshell

Mesoamerica’s Amerindians from the Olmecs to the Aztecs (2,500 b.c.e. to 1521 c.e.) were true bastards: a culture of serial killers even of their own children—see the middle of my book Day of Wrath.

When the silly Spaniards arrived in the 16th century—the least racially conscious among Europeans—the first thing they did was cross-breed with these serial killers, completely ruining their culture and genes for posterity.

The Mexican War of Independence against Spain fought by the traitorous Criollos, the Mestizos, the Indians and the Mulattoes (1810-1821) was a war against the peninsular whites. And the Mexican Revolution one hundred years later (1910-1917, although political violence continued until 1924) lowered racial taboos and fostered the rise of non-Criollos.

Today’s Mexicans have internalised the current neochristian narrative (feminism, antiracism, LGBT, idealisation of pre-Columbian Mexico, etc.) with such violence that, in the whole Mexican media, there is no equivalent of a Tucker Carlson who speaks with some measure about a world turned upside down.

Published in: on December 23, 2020 at 11:01 pm  Comments (2)  

Not demo-cracy but media-cracy

The reason I don’t like to comment on the news is that just commenting on it validates the System. For example, commenting on recent elections in the US validates democracy. And if you hate democracy you can afford not to comment on any of the elections in any Western country.

But what happened yesterday is something I cannot ignore. Prematurely all the media declared Biden the winner before the legal process of Trump’s lawyers, caused by irregularities like Big Tech censoring the truth, demonstrable fraud, ridiculous turnouts, dead voters and mockery of the proper legal remedy.

Since I live in a banana country I remember the fraud of 1988, after the vote for the president. Cuauhtémoc Cárdenas beat Carlos Salinas de Gortari although the latter was declared the winner. I still remember that day.

While the votes were being counted in this banana country, a ‘failure in the system’ was reported with the count of the votes as they were carried out. Before the ‘failure’ the numbers favoured Cárdenas. When the system was restored, Salinas de Gortari emerged as the winner.

The incident, known as ‘fallo del sistema’, sparked accusations of fraud in the election of the President. In 2009, former President Miguel de la Madrid confessed that the PRI lost the 1988 election, thus confirming the electoral fraud orchestrated by his government to impose Salinas de Gortari as the winner.

In 1988 many were waiting for Cárdenas’s call to defend the vote at the polls, but it didn’t happen because, according to his collaborators, a civil war could have been unleashed.

What strikes me greatly is comparing what happened here more than thirty years ago with what happened yesterday in the neighbouring country to the north. Apparently, it is no longer the government that governs the US, but the media.

Even in a banana country like Mexico many complained in the mass media (there was still no internet). The difference could not be greater with the US, where even Fox News joined yesterday to proclaim victory for Biden before the courts reach a ruling on the lawsuits of Trump’s lawyers (by the way, is Rupert Murdoch Jewish?).

One might think that the racialist right would complain. But yesterday Kevin MacDonald just said he was feeling depressed (I won’t link him or the other white nationalists I mention below).

Greg Johnson in an article with a long title (‘The Counter-Currents 2020 Fundraiser: This Weekend’s Post-Election Livestreams with Jared Taylor, Sam Dickson, Mark Weber, James Edwards, & Many More’) links to podcasts of this weekend. But those podcast webpages are very hostile to the visitor, including that of James Edwards. If you click it, a maze of links appears and if you click a link again, commercial-type voices appear, not Johnson’s voice. For a long time I gave up going to Edwards’ site because of how hostile it is to the visitor, but in none of the links that Johnson puts up does his voice appear (surely you have to listen to them only within the hours when the interviews are announced on the respective sites).

Jared Taylor’s webzine on the other hand hasn’t even said anything about what happened yesterday until this early morning when I write.

If we visit Twitter there is some more information if one sees what Trump’s sons are saying or what they are re-tweeting. But the media is censoring others who are complaining about the stolen elections.

If the media, including the internet, and not the American courts decide when to declare a winning candidate, the situation in the US is infinitely more serious than I imagined.

If I lived in the US I wouldn’t have voted. But I find it incredible that there was much more media opposition in Mexico in 1988 than in the US today.

It seems that Jewry has come to absolutely control not only the MSM but of social media and, except for white nationalists, no one seems to complain about those who control the media.

Although the Mexican media are a hundred percent anti-Trump, at least yesterday I got to see on television Rudy Giuliani’s conference dubbed into Spanish for the Mexican audience for a long time: something I didn’t see on Fox News where they apparently eliminated, yesterday, the Saturday show of Judge Jeanine so she wouldn’t say something similar to what Giuliani said yesterday.

The United States is really fried for not having rebelled, since Hitler’s time, about who controls the media. Richard Nixon and Billy Graham had a chance and did nothing. And the saddest thing is that people like Hunter Wallace and Richard Spencer, who should know better, have joined the Biden triumph chorus because Trump had disappointed them.

Only The Daily Stormer has been complaining yesterday and today as in 1988 millions of Mexicans complained about the fraud. But voices like Anglin’s are not heard in the MSM. When it comes to mass media Mexicans had far, far more liberty thirty-two years ago than Americans today!

Today’s world is infinitely more surreal than what I imagined, and the next few months will likely be more surreal—and more totalitarian. In this MacDonald is right to feel utterly depressed. My only hope is that the dollar will collapse making Biden the fall guy. The interregnum that began in 1945 will end with a crash in the 2020s that will resemble the hyper-inflationary crash of the German mark of the 1920s.

The rest will follow from there…

Devlin postscript

I would like to clarify something about what I recently said in ‘On Roger Devlin’. Last week I visited the home of the Catholic family that I referred to in that article and, now I realise, what I wrote is inaccurate. While it is true that the woman who sent her husband to the asylum is a Catholic, she didn’t belong to the circle of very traditionalist Catholics, as I said in the middle of this month. However, there is something that I witnessed in my recent visit to this very decent family that I must share.

A real nymph of that family, of stunning beauty, very slim, with blond hair and light eyes—like those on my sidebar—will soon marry a swarthy Mexican from one of the southern states of the country. Of course, neither her parents nor the nymph’s brothers are bothered by the matter. That has been happening in Latin America for half a millennium, it is a practice that doesn’t have to change at the last minute.

What I see ignominious in all this is the cowardice, throughout the American white nationalism movement, of not wanting to see something that has been happening on the continent for five hundred years. Recently a Christian tried to post a comment on this site claiming that Europeans genocided Amerindians, as if that would refute the criticisms of Christianity on this site. I didn’t let that comment pass due to his obvious dishonesty: not wanting to see the catastrophe that miscegenation represented in most of the continent. This blood mixing was due to a religion that made no difference between Iberian whites and Amerinds. Both were souls that the Church of Rome could save, exactly alike in the eyes of the Christian god.

One can take a look at The Unz Review, which collects articles published in various sites on white nationalism, the alt-right and the alt-lite, and the ethnic suicide of Iberian whites from the 16th century to date is not even remotely mentioned, despite the immense extensions of land in which it was carried out—and continues to be carried out, like the nymph friend who will soon ruin her blood.

I already said it but it bears repeating. The trick American white nationalists do by blaming Jewry solely and exclusively for Aryan decline is to conceal the history of most of their continent. In his recent article for example, which I referred to in ‘Why I don’t talk about the news’, MacDonald sums up his ideology by committing the usual trick: talking about the Frankfurt school, etc., without mentioning anything about what happened from the Rio Grande to Argentina, even centuries before the Jews emigrated to the US.

I have already discussed this in the last Daybreak article and those interested can either print the PDF, or purchase a copy of it. The only thing I’ll add is that it’s becoming increasingly clear that white nationalism is an extremely dishonest movement. And the reason for their dishonesty is obvious: they don’t want to put their parents’ religion on the dock.

Published in: on October 27, 2020 at 11:26 am  Comments (1)  

Nobody wanted to listen, 6

A humanitarian analyst

Once again, I will be told that I chose the wrong people: that the Escobars were unfortunate cases and that in the world there are professionals capable of understanding a tragedy for what it is, a tragedy and call a spade a spade. Let’s now see what happened to me with the most benevolent analyst I have ever met.

Dr. Carlos García had lent money to my parents when they were going to be expelled from their house in Tlalpan for not paying it. Likewise, when I was unemployed at twenty-three, García invited me to play chess with him once a week and paid for my classes. Almost two decades later, the same month as my disagreement with the Escobars, I went to his house to personally deliver a copy of my Letter to him. Let’s see what my diary says of that encounter in his home study:

July 15, 1998

Today I went to see Dr. García and he surprised me with several comments that corroborate my vision of him as a good person. For example, he told me ‘I have never committed a patient since 1960’ and used the word ‘curse’ from Szasz, with whom he says he agrees, when referring to psychiatric labelling.

Given the prestige that the doctor has in society, Tom Szasz says that the semantic stigma with which the psychiatrist denigrates his victim results in a social curse.

He liked Ronald Laing because of his colourful personality, and he told me that Laing played bassoon and had died playing tennis in Monaco.

Also, and this is novel because it qualifies what I wrote in previous pages, it vindicated the role of benevolent analysts like him. He told me that at psychiatrists’ symposia he had been blatantly told ‘That won’t work’—psychoanalysis. ‘This is where the buck is made’— psychiatry—since psychiatrists earn four times as much as analysts. He has had schizophrenic patients and one ‘labelled’—he used that word—of manic-depressive who had been prescribed lithium for life, but he left her well with only therapy, taking away the medicine. The shrink who had treated her before ‘was on the same page’ he told me, pointing to a book by Ramón de la Fuente.

This was a splendid start, and everything suggested that I had finally found a friendly ear in a professional. A doctor who recognises fraud in his profession can be a guarantee of good feelings towards the victims of the parents and the doctors who pay them. A month after I gave him my manuscript I excitedly called García to see what impact my precious text had caused. I don’t know shorthand, but I managed to jot down some important phrases by writing as fast as I could while talking to him on the phone:

17 of August. ‘It is very well written. It is a good testimony, like Kafka’s letter. In my opinion, the family problem must be removed: by removing the names, it could become a good testimony to be known socially; we must remove the character of denunciation and give it more social and collective function. It has curative action. It is a book against family, medical institutions and in particular, ahem, the health [apparently an euphemism for the psychiatric] institution. With pseudonyms… hopefully it may be published’.

This opinion encouraged me and I made a new appointment with him. But I must confess something. Years before I had been offended by García when in his home study he defended Amara against my complaint. That happened before I started my psychiatry research and could properly present my case in two books. But García’s comments about my Letter reconciled me to him, at least momentarily. The day I saw him, back in his home study, I wrote these reflections in my diary:

August 28. Today I went to see him and spent an hour and a half talking to him. I was wrong in believing that García wasn’t compassionate. The first thing he said about my Letter to Mama Medusa was: ‘I was so amazed. I felt moved’.

And he did talk about Amara: that there was no communication, although I remember that he was ambiguous about assigning blame (he implied that it was necessary to find out where the error came from). But he did say that instead of wanting to understand family dynamics Amara turned to drugs. This comment and others end the resentment I had for him when he long ago repudiated my criticism of his colleague. He also spoke of the terrible lack of communication with my parents as a teenager. That was the year [1974] that García met me at my parents’ school. He was incomparably more human than Angelica, Hector and not to mention Solbein. García confirmed to me that no physician in Mexico publicly opposes psychiatry. Almost at the beginning he spoke of ‘the high-risk situation’ in which I found myself as a teenager. But he added that it would be ‘pamphlet’ if I didn’t use pseudonyms, which was ‘the only objection’ he made to my text.

So García advised me the same as Tere: he was more concerned with the public image of my family than with my need to report the case.

Without having assimilated this fact, two years later I would send him How to Murder Your Child’s Soul. Once again, I wrote down what he was saying to me over the phone. The brackets and ellipsis mean that I couldn’t write down his sentences in full, but the fragments are significant to know what García was thinking:

June 9, 2000.

What a disappointment! Dr. García told me:

‘I read half. I haven’t finished it; the question of sight has become more acute. From what I have read, I believe that you are wasting time and vital energy on the family matter. [You have to] put a line, a full stop and dedicate yourself to other issues. The critique of psychiatry is somewhat outdated; I feel it’s anachronistic, like that criticism of Dr. Amara. As far as I have read, if you reoriented your critical skills in another field… I think there was a series of misunderstandings and it led to suffering… My point of view [is that you should abandon your project so] you don’t have to continue paying the toll of what happened to you in youth. [I would suggest that] the question of Dr. Amara be put aside’.

I asked him ‘Are you friends?’ and he replied: ‘Not properly. We don’t treat each other; I don’t know about his activities. My opinion isn’t influenced by a question of friendship’.

García’s little sermon caused me enormous indignation. I embarked on a reflection for several days that made me fill my diary with expletives. I didn’t respond to García either at his home study or in writing because it would have been useless. But on the very day of his paternalistic advice I wrote down this soliloquy:

Do you remember his defence of Amara years ago that hurt me? Good!: history repeats itself. All this corroborates my view that only apostates of an ideology understand reality. García is an analyst. He never apostatised from his profession: he’s part of the guild. His internal alliances don’t allow him to see reality. He’s like Hector Escobar: good people but wrong. I mustn’t interact with them at all! I mustn’t speak to him again. You have to accept your solitude, Caesar: no professional will be able to understand you since the profession itself is a trap. Now the last door is closing…

11th of June. One of the nonsense that García told me that I didn’t write down the day before was that continuing my literary project ‘could harm me’. This shows that analysts know nothing of the mind. What García ignores (‘so that you don’t continue paying the toll on what happened to you in your youth’) is that you cannot start a different life without money. And even with money I would write first and only later would I dedicate myself to the cinema, for the simple reason that it’s now that my soliloquies from those years are alive and need to be written down. I have been a mountain philosopher for decades and it would be a crime if, by dedicating myself to something else, they would go out of my memory. I don’t see in what other areas I could help myself and other victims more than by telling my life.

June 17. There is something more serious in García’s response. If Amara keeps destroying teenagers in his office it is deeply immoral to say ‘put it aside’. That advice presupposes as an absolute fact that Amara hasn’t destroyed and is not destroying other young people. García didn’t deny my accusation, he simply ignored it, no matter how obvious the fact that, since Amara and other psychiatrists continue to do these things, my testimony would serve to combat them. Without knowing it, García is part of the system. His message seems to be: Your text is changing the rules of the game for me (he used those words!). I won’t read it all: it may endanger my POV about my colleagues.

June 27th. Another thing. That response from García, allying internally with someone who deserves a trial in court, shows that therapy is really a very bad thing. There is no getting around this conclusion: If García had scolded me for denouncing his colleague in the past, I’d have been terribly confused. Well, something similar happened to me years ago, but in 1976 I would have panicked. I must use this in the future to show the accuracy of Jeffrey Masson’s stance: All therapy is toxic. Now I just hate him. As a teenager he would have hurt me.

Imagine this: suppose my book has already been published and is selling well. If a journalist interviewed García to talk about the literary novelty, he couldn’t have come out with the advice he gave me. It wouldn’t have been so easy to escape. He must have faced what I wrote in that half that he read. But talking to an analyst in private lends itself to violating the most elementary rules of logic and common sense. Therapists despise what their clients tell them and shy away like children. It is too evident that the Amaras, Santarellis, Krassoievitchs, Millanes, Corrales and even Garcías [the analysts who have offended me] should only be challenged in my writings. In other words, their offices are a Wonderland where the accusations are ignored, disregarded.

Remember that counselling the victim instead of reforming the perpetrator is what Miller calls poisonous pedagogy, and the same goes for trying to ‘educate’ the victim without vindicating him against the curse that Szasz spoke of.

It is clear, Caesar, that you shouldn’t expect anything from those in the cult of psychoanalysis, including those who originally showed a good heart. They all belong to a quasi-religion and will not apostatise from it. They will take it to their graves. Forget about them. If they weren’t so religious, García and Escobar could’ve called me to politely discuss our differences. They won’t do it: this is a world without morals and the García case exemplifies it. Instead of telling me something about my accusations, they close their minds. Like my sister Korina, they give advice. It seems that the taboo on these topics is much more widespread than expected. It isn’t just my parents. It isn’t only the old Uncle Beto and Godmother or my cousins Héctor, Octavio and Carmina. People who agree with Szasz himself, such as García, also have closed minds (and let’s not talk about doctors Santarelli, Millán and other renowned analysts who have offended me terribly). That is your world Caesar, like it or not. My message is for other people. Don’t give your pearls to pigs anymore.

June 28th. I can’t leave Garcia alone. I think of the phrases ‘that criticism of doctor Amara…’, ‘there was a series of misunderstandings…’ I didn’t criticise Amara: I denounced him! Using the word ‘criticism’ suggests something like an opinion, a point of view: as if in my book I hadn’t talked about criminal actions, not ‘misunderstandings’! See now this: ‘If you reoriented your critical capacity to another field…’ Imagine telling Solzhenitsyn to redirect his criticism to a field outside Russia! I have been thinking many things about Garcia. It’s a great indicator of how bad his profession is.

García also told me by phone that the National Institute of Psychiatry [known also as INP in Mexico] ‘hadn’t allowed a patient to be committed because it was involuntary’. With this argument he tried to refute my manuscript (‘the criticism of psychiatry is somewhat outdated’) by assuming that in recent years the profession has become more humanitarian. I was speechless. It couldn’t be that I, decades younger than García, knew that the INP is the only psychiatric hospital in Mexico City in which internment is voluntary. In the large psychiatric hospital next door to García’s home, the Fray Bernardino Álvarez Hospital, involuntary psychiatry is practiced, such as electroshocking the inmates! The INP does it too, but it brainwashes the patients into undergoing therapy with their consent. Of course: they aren’t warned that that ‘therapy’ produces amnesia. A woman who was interned at the INP told me in 2005 that the electroshocks that were applied to her there erased her memories of a trip. It is also worth mentioning that the director of the INP, Gerard Heinze, told me personally that he mentions the magic word ‘Fray Bernardino’ to intimidate his patients into submitting to electroshock ‘therapy’.(*)

Garcia’s ignorance of psychiatry in the year 2000 stems from his incredible—truly incredible—blindness before the human rights violations that take place a few blocks from his home. The only psychiatric facility in the country that locks up children, the Juan N. Navarro Children’s Hospital, is also close to his home! In which bubble was Dr. García living? A few months before García told me that the criticism of my manuscript was outdated, the Mexican magazine Proceso had published a cover article exposing the crimes committed in a national psychiatric hospital run by the state. My diary from 2000 continues:

June 29. Oh García: I can’t leave you! Two years ago you told me that the schizoid label is ‘label’ and ‘a curse as Szasz says’. But when a colleague of yours labels me as a teenager while I am perfectly sane, and as an adult I want to denounce him, then you tell me: ‘Amara must be put aside’. Isn’t this precisely schizophrenia?

The anger caused by the old friend’s scolding was such that in my diaries I continued to go after him sporadically in 2001, 2002, 2003 and even 2004. But the above is enough to provide an idea of the bile that I spilled over his little piece of advice and scolding: the ‘poisonous pedagogy’ that Miller speaks of in its purest expression!

Carlos García did exactly the same that my pseudo-friend Tere had done to me. They both advised me to abandon my literary project. They didn’t realise that just by giving me that advice they would become themselves characters in such a project. The only difference is that Tere wanted to dissuade me from publishing my Letter to mom Medusa, where I denounce the crime of my parents; García wanted to dissuade me from publishing How to Murder Your Child’s Soul, where I exposed his colleague Amara. For Tere as well as for García and many others, the crimes that society commits with a family child must remain hidden. No one is to pronounce names. This pair reminds me of the first Gulag fugitive who escaped from an archipelago island and published a book about his experiences. In a crazy western world where Stalin used to be worshiped, the fugitive’s testimony was ignored and its author was subjected to the same kind of expletives that I received.
____________

(*) With another anti-psychiatric activist, in 2002 I interviewed Gerard Heinze, the director of the INP, and later I wrote a report about that visit.

Published in: on October 14, 2020 at 5:43 pm  Comments Off on Nobody wanted to listen, 6  

Nobody wanted to listen, 5

The opinion of psychologists

‘Where are the men?’ the little prince at last took up the conversation again. ‘It is a little lonely in the desert…’

‘It is also lonely among men’, the snake said.

—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry


It may be assumed that Tere simply followed the dictates of traditional morality, but that if I told my testimony to a professional psychologist I would find the much sought after oasis. Nothing further from the truth. In the same multi-family apartment complex where I lived with Tere’s family, I met the psychologist Angelica. She read a version of my Letter and other texts that bear certain similarities with what is written in the narrative part of this book. Let’s see what happened when the psychology teacher read my stuff. I will cite my diary and later some of her letters that we exchanged. I had spoken to Angelica on the phone and I surprised her at the moment when she read the climax of my Letter:

July 25, 1998. I interrupted Angelica right in the passage of ‘The Medusa’! She said that it’s very good; that she doesn’t read out of obligation but because she’s enjoying it a lot; that the psychological references are very good and that she congratulates me. She still doesn’t get to the toughest pages. Right there I interrupted her.

August 12 and 13. Nothing new she told me. We only talked about my next trip. Even when I mentioned Medusa, nothing came out except that she said ‘I had read Laing again’.

Compassion doesn’t exist.

Two years later, I sent Angelica the manuscript of my second book. As psychologists are colleagues of psychiatrists, I was particularly interested in having her tell me something about such a ruthless exposé of psychiatry: something that had never before come from the pen of a fellow countryman. In 2000 she sent me an email note: ‘I think you already handle more psychology than I do. What’s more, I feel myself behind in clinic stuff; just finished my sabbatical and started writing a textbook. I really think you have a lot of easiness to express your ideas’.

Thus the same story and the same lack of compassion of two years ago was repeated. Although Angelica intended to flatter me, her missive upset me. Not only a couple of years before she hadn’t told me anything—like Tere—about the tragedy in my family with my parents. Now she wasn’t saying a word to me about the profession that helped ruin my teenage life. I must say that her position is similar to that of some friends who have focused exclusively on the literary aspect of my Letter: something that doesn’t interest me. The sole purpose of writing had been for someone to tell me something about the agony I suffered as a teenager; that it would show some indignation towards the aggressors and a society that allows such things!

Angelica had gone to live in La Paz. Due to her lack of compassion I decided to get away from her as I decided to get away from Tere. To my surprise, four years after her letter, Angelica visited Mexico City; she went around to find out my new phone number, insisted that we meet and talk in a restaurant. As a mature man, I was determined to tell Angelica that many people who, as a lad, I had taken for friends hadn’t really been friends. I alluded to the case of Tere, her former neighbour, and tried to present my arguments along the same lines to what was written in previous pages. Remember that a few years before I had sent her some drafts similar to the ones I publish in this book: texts about what I have felt about the country in which I was born. In July 2004, just a few days after we last saw each other at the restaurant, Angelica sent me an email:

Hi Caesar:

I read your book again. It’s okay. I think some things seemed too racist to me, for example your comments about your country. Your work loses value by your stupid racism: nacos, etc.

In Mexico naco designates the clumsy and uneducated Indian who emigrates to the city. If Angelica hadn’t been indoctrinated in a Marxist-Leninist university, she wouldn’t have been offended. She is a white woman who had a very handsome son, and at that time she was living with another much smaller son whose absent father was European.

You who seek to be treated as a human being don’t treat others as what you ask. It really gave me deep sadness to see you so aggressive and deteriorated.

I don’t think I told you the end of the dream. I was crying and that’s how it was. When I went on the subway, I became depressed and I broke down crying. Believe me, I esteem you more than I imagined. I really wanted to see you and hug you but your mask prevented me. Hopefully you can read this email.

A hug,

Angelica.

I didn’t answer her. The restaurant meeting had been forced, and it will surely be the last time I see her. But I would like to say something about the mask she mentioned. Angelica had had a dream, one of those that portray a situation. She had dreamt of myself as cold and distant, with a black mask; and in the dream she saw a woman who seemed responsible for all that; whom, within the same dream, Angelica related to my mother. In real life I was cold to her at the restaurant, and that was in dramatic contrast to the friendly lad Angelica had met in her apartment almost twenty years earlier. I wore a black mask in the dream and in real life I was dressed in black on my appointment with her (she was all dressed in flashy red).

Regarding her comment that she highly esteem me, I’ve also heard it from people I don’t want to see. Like Tere and Angelica, many hypocrites say they esteem me. But very few say anything meaningful to me when I open my heart to them by placing a homemade impression of the Letter in their hands: the core of my pain and the key that opens the door to my later life. Although Angelica is a professor of psychology, she didn’t show any compassion for what I told in that epistle. And from the other texts she read, it didn’t occur to her that if my father had agreed to emigrate I’d never have written a derogatory line about Mexico, although I’d have written about the United States. In her mind my cry of loneliness before a culture that is no longer mine appeared as ‘stupid racism’ (in my eleventh book in Spanish and Daybreak in English I address the issue of the word ‘racism’). More serious is that the psychology teacher had less compassion than Tere. The latter at least told me she was devastated; that only when she had the strength would she resume reading my Letter, and that at one point her eyes clouded when she read me. The professional psychologist didn’t even have that hint of pity.

It is worth saying that in 1985 Angelica had yelled at me horribly during an argument in which she agreed with my mother. And it was my mother with whom Angelica was talking about me that year! (although, unlike Tere, Angelica did it over the phone). The psychologist interpreted my belated resentment as if I was ‘aggressive and deteriorated’. Ironically, she saw me like this when I was enormously robust compared to the twenty-something lad of yesteryear. People get used to the docility of people damaged by their parents and with low self-esteem, and a change for the better is seen as a bad thing. I have only been ‘deteriorated’, to use Angelica’s word, when due to lack of a knowledgeable witness I couldn’t confront older women (Angelica and Tere are older than me).

Many years ago I witnessed how Angelica scolded her three-year-old blondish son with the threat: ‘I’m going to cut your balls!’ Betito, the European’s son, began to cry. Angelica and Tere say they esteem me. The truth is that there are many people who, like them, lack empathy for the feelings of others. What they estimate is not the real person, only a facet or one-dimensional image that they have of the person. Whoever is lucky enough to have a friendly ear, someone with whom to communicate the dimensions of the soul, knows that trying to transmit the secrets of the heart to a fellow without empathy is like speaking to Golem. Lack of empathy always has the same cause. The last time I saw her, Tere told me a creepy story perpetrated by her grandfather with his children. Once one of his sons was twelve years old, he took him to another city to abandon him. Tere’s grandpa told him that from that day on he had to subsist on his own. He didn’t even take him with a relative or acquaintances. He left him on the Mexican streets and never saw him again in life.

Tere and Angelica were, like the trio in the Cineteca gathering, victims of mistreatment. And not only that. Like those of the Cineteca they have buried the feelings of anger towards their parents. Ironically, the repression was greater in the psychology teacher than in Tere, who at least told me the story of her grandfather, or the filmmakers, who also spoke about their past. The more terrible the abuse of the parent and the greater the repression, the less empathy the daughter will develop towards her son (we can already imagine the toll that constant threats of castration can cause in a little boy of three years).

 
The analysts

There will be those who, after reading the above story, will think that there are not the psychologists, but the psychoanalysts the experts in deep psychology: professionals who take an interest in the lives of their clients, especially in the terrors of their childhood. This is a myth. I won’t repeat the exposé from my previous book on psychoanalysis because no one currently believes in its cornerstone. Freud said that his ideological edifice rested on his discovery of the Oedipus complex: that parents turn out to be a source of sexual desires for the child. It takes being too stupid, or seeing Freud as an infallible guru, to believe such a thing.

For many years Alice Miller practiced her profession as a psychoanalyst in Switzerland. In her first three books, Das Drama des begabten Kindes (The Drama of the Gifted Child), Am Anfang war Erziehung (translated as For Your Own Good) and Du Sollst Nicht Merken (Thou Shalt Not Be Aware) Miller believed that her discoveries were not incompatible with psychoanalysis. But in the late 1980s and early 90s she openly broke with her profession with the publication of Der gemiedene Schlüssel (The Untouched Key), Das verbannte Wissen (Banished Knowledge) and Abbruch der Schweigemauer (Breaking Down the Wall of Silence).

People like Miller, Jeffrey Masson, and others have found that an analyst is someone trained not to listen to his client. Before I became familiar with her thinking, which helped me distance myself even more from psychoanalysts, I used to hang out with a couple of young Lacanian analysts: Solbein and Hector Escobar. The same year that I gave copies of my manuscript to Tere and Angelica I gave another to the Escobars. Hector, who had studied psychology, loved it and devoured it in a day and a half. In a cafe he talked about my literary skills—as I said, something that irritates me to be told—and also spoke as a psychoanalyst: ‘The problem arose with that self that your mother deconstructed’. Hector was very cordial and warm, but his analytic term (‘deconstructed’) was cold and far from what my pages actually screamed (compare it with my metaphor ‘a dagger in the heart’). Solbein also liked my book and it was she who, when I sat with them in the cafe, brought up on the table the subject of the manuscript I had given them. But Solbein uttered an icy comment: she said she didn’t notice many differences with the cases she saw in her office. It was as if someone were simply telling a Gulag survivor that his story was not dissimilar to other zek stories! The way she concluded her comment was horrifyingly dry:

‘Those are common clinical experiences’.

The analyst’s words remind me neither more nor less of the infamous Dr. Amara when he read the epistle to my mother. Faced with Amara’s evasiveness in his office, I asked him: ‘But what do you think of what I say, that the cause of my problem was my mother?’ In my previous book I tell that Amara answered: ‘It’s myopia’ and that he explained that neuroses exist in every family, and that mine was just one more neurotic family. In addition to this incredible similarity, Solbein told me that the analytic thesis she was writing referred to mystical stages in people who had had absent parents. I wrote in my diary that I was surprised that she wasn’t moved by the tragedy of the physical torture my parents inflicted on me: getting out of bed every day after sleeping for only a few hours, something that has nothing to do with ‘an absent father’. Referring to their comments, in my diary I noted that these Lacanians ‘don’t touch the people, nor the Subject they talk about so much, but they invalidate him by speaking objectively about him’. Although Hector was much warmer, he listened to his wife without realising how terrible terms such as ‘clinic’ sound to those who seek consolation: a word that Angelica had also used in one of her letters. For an autobiographer immersed in the humanities, the repulsiveness of language in psychology and psychoanalysis is discovered in the following anecdote.

At the time when I gave my manuscript to the Escobars I used to eat at a restaurant in downtown Coyoacán in Mexico City, an extremely populous place. For the hermit, few things are more execrable than the crowd, the street vendors and the noise. As I didn’t have a kitchen in my home, I suffered greatly from having to fight my way through the human swarming every day when I went to eat. But, oh miracle, when I met the Escobars in that place I knew that the sacrifice of having gone there for weeks had been worth it. Out of dignity I hadn’t spoken to them on the phone to ask what they thought of my text. I hoped the initiative would come from them. But just like the day I ate with Tere in Coyoacán, my heart burned to know what the young analysts would say about my life. The daily and painstakingly crossing that crowd of Neanderthals, I told myself, was worth it to find them! (incidentally, in those days they both looked like Iberian-type whites). And it is that in my imagery prior to the meeting in the cafe I imagined a compassionate and understanding Solbein who explained to me, with her knowledge, my written confessions. But when in real life I came to what I thought would be an oasis of understanding, I found only sand. The intimate manuscript on the great odyssey of my life simply describes ‘common clinical experiences’.

Raising the enemy flag

It is true that, due to what I said yesterday, I no longer want to visit the forums of the racialists. But when I got out of bed this morning a thought came to me that deserves a place here.

Some time ago I saw that in an interview Jared Taylor openly said that the causes of the darkest hour in the West were an absolute mystery. He mentioned Christianity but dismissed the hypothesis of blaming it, although he has spoken of pathological altruism: something that didn’t exist before the religion of his fanatical parents (so fanatical that they migrated to Japan when Jared was a child to preach the Word of the Lord to the heathen).

The case of Brad Griffin is even worse, who used the Prozium penname before his current pseudonym, Hunter Wallace. In a forum called Phora, when Griffin was known as Prozium (and we are talking before he created Occidental Dissent), Griffin defended the actions of the Yankee government to fight the Nazis in World War II. Years later, when Griffin was already the editor of Occidental Dissent, he once said that the causes of the Western dark hour were unknown.

Look at Griffin and Taylor’s level of blind self-righteousness! When Griffin said that years ago, he didn’t realise that he himself, along with millions of Americans who think like him, has been a vector among millions of Western vectors that cause the dark ages. It should be more than obvious that only those who retrospectively side with the good guys in WW2 are not contributing to the dark times!

Charlottesville is the most dramatic example that comes to mind as to why the American racialist movement is made up of schizophrenics in its etymological sense of divided mind: their left is unaware of what their right does; Jekyll doesn’t remember that last night he transformed into Hyde. As we know, among a huge number of American flags, among those who demonstrated on August 12, 2017 a fellow carried a Nazi flag. After the catastrophe, many complained about poor optics and even speculated that the guy who had carried the Nazi flag was an FBI implant to discredit the movement.

I am not asking American racialists to follow in the footsteps of Commander Rockwell and use, for their American movement, the flag that Hitler devised for his German movement. But they could perfectly devise an American flag with the swastika in the middle, and with colours different from Hitler’s flag, to differentiate it. Until they devise that American flag with the swastika, it is understandable that some American racists use, by default, the German flag.

What I want to get to is that the general outcry after Charlottesville of those who were concerned with optics only shows their terrible schizophrenia. Whose side are they on? Do they side Uncle Sam, who fought anti-racist wars in the 1860s and 1940s, and that currently wants to exterminate them in a racial cold war? Because that is what the flag with stars and stripes really means. And if they are on the side of the Aryan race, why, like vampires, are they afraid of the swastika that the Aryans who conquered India already used?

After the degenerate Weimar Republic Hitler immediately realised that the old German flag could no longer represent the spirit of the German people, and decided to create a new one. So little imagination the American racists have that, except for Pierce and Covington, both deceased, they have not even been able to create a new flag that reflects the interests of white Americans: a flag that must be flown against the enemy flag. They do the opposite: welcoming the enemy flag into Charlottesville and condemning the flag with the swastika.

A more charitable critic might think that they are just learning to see History and their past. But I am not a charitable critic and can say that they have forfeited an examination of conscience. Otherwise, they would never have used the enemy flag. By way of illustration I would like to say something about the country where I live.

A few years ago I met a descendant of Spaniards living in Mexico who speaks of ‘the enemy flag’ when referring to the Mexican flag. For this criollo, the flag to be flown is the Cross of Burgundy, the flag of New Spain* before the mestizos took power during the War of Independence. This son of Spaniards is a racist and dreams of a Latin America inhabited by criollos. We could already imagine him and his group flying the Mexican flag: something utterly inconceivable to them!

It must be reiterated: as long as the Americans fail to vehemently reject the enemy symbols their movement will continue to be quackery. If the people of Charlottesville had not been schizophrenic, they would have felt infinite revulsion at the stars and stripes and would have welcomed the swastika.

________

(*) Instead of ‘the flag of New Spain’, it would be more appropriate to call this Cross of Burgundy the flag of the Indian Viceroyalty, as instead of exterminating the race they found on the continent they married the Indians and, instead of genetically copying Spain, they dedicated themselves solely to exploit natural resources. ‘New Spain’ is a misnomer if you commit the sin of miscegenation.

And precisely because of this unforgivable sin of miscegenation, after Independence the mestizos chose an Aztec symbol. The eagle on a prickly pear cactus devouring a snake in the tricolor flag that appears in the main text was the symbol of the birth of Tenochtitlan before the arrival of the Spanish.

Published in: on April 22, 2020 at 12:43 pm  Comments (9)  

Book-burning by feminists

The ethno-suicidal ideology arose in Europe and the United States. Latin America is merely co-dependent on the fashions of the West. For this reason, the news south of the Río Grande rarely have relevance with the fourteen words, as they only imitate the North. But something happened last week at the Guadalajara International Book Fair that is worth mentioning.

Protected by the security agents of the Fair itself, on December 6, a group of vociferous feminists entered the fair, assaulted one of the exhibitors (containing copies of a book out of the pen of a conservative who writes about therapies for those who wish to heal from their homosexuality); they made a pile, and burned them in front of all.

Shocking as it is that the very security forces protected public vandalism, what caught my attention is that the Mexican journalistic notes failed to denounce it. When they finally mentioned it, they did it in such a way that the basic facts, such as the illegal assault on the exhibitors and their bookshelf, the theft of their books, and that the burning was illegal, were omitted to sugarcoat the facts before public opinion.

He who understands spoken Spanish can listen to today’s video of the Argentinian Agustín Laje (drawing) about the event last week. In Latin America and Spain, Laje, who has visited Mexico and Guadalajara many times, is probably the best-known voice in denouncing gender ideology.

I mention this because not long ago a commenter told us that he did not care about women, as an issue, mentioned in an article in an old version of The Fair Race. The comemnter is clueless of course. The target of that text were not women but how we, men, literally go crazy in our interaction with them, as we are hard-wired to protect the fair sex.

Published in: on December 14, 2019 at 2:27 pm  Comments (7)  

Open thread:

Is Charles Manson good for Hitler’s 88 words?

Below I’ve cut and pasted my response to Joseph Walsh in the previous thread, whom I met in London five years ago. He said:

On Charles Manson, I remember you quoting Jake F. saying Atomwaffen Division members were “unhinged, to say the least” but at the same time you are a Mexican who wants the genocide of 99% of humans including all Mexicans so society would of course see you as “unhinged, to say the least”.

I am not a Mexican. Click on my avatar and you’ll see me as a baby. The overwhelming majority of Mexicans don’t look like that as babies. The overwhelming majority of Mexicans are Christians. I am not. Mexicans of the upper class are liberals, even the Catholics. I am not a liberal. The overwhelming majority of Mexicans eat meat. I do not, nor do I like football as they do.

I come from parents who in the early 1960s were premiering orchestra pieces at Utica, New York with my father as the composer and my mother as the piano interpreter of my dad’s symphonic music. The overwhelming majority of Mexicans are not heirs of classical music, not even remotely.

As to ‘unhinged’, my philosophy is as unhinged as that declaration of Schopenhauer that it’s better that suffering mankind should be called home, or as Bertrand Russell’s statements that all of mankind should be exterminated. Unlike pessimist Russell, I am only saying that the most beautiful whites, with empathy toward the animals, must be spared from such exterminationist fantasies. That still may sound unhinged to the majority of ears, but could it be common sense from the POV of an ET mind? (cf. Arthur C. Clarke’s last words in Report on Planet Three).

I think you tend to overestimate your importance. Most of what you publish on your blog is writings from other people, you have not really said anything too original but rather summarized modern Aryan ideology. If the Aryan race does become extinct it won’t be because it didn’t read the blog of a Mexican!

True. But my really original stuff is my 1,600-page book trilogy that, after I finish my backup PDFs, I may start to translate.

Sometimes you come across as pompous and it wouldn’t surprise me if you eventually shut down comments altogether and just talk to yourself.

I only reject those comments that, as Mauricio says above, demoralise the true Aryan; those silly pro-Christian comments after they’re told repeatedly to stop their preaching; those Meds who openly resort to insult because of my Nordicism (Dr. Morales), and a troll from Florida who uses many sockpuppets and who I believe was also banned in other racialist forums.

I notice you are friendly to people when you like what they’re saying but then you cast them off as soon as they’ve outlived their usefulness.

Examples please? As Evropa Soberana does in his site, I could have not allowed a single comment since 2011. But I’ve allowed thousands of them. I now believe that Vig was right: time matters. Sometimes I even suspect that the pessimists like Devan are not ethnically Aryans and just come here to demoralize the would-be soldiers. Other times I find out that they are mudbloods that hate me because of my Nordicism.

Though you portray yourself as some inheritor to the National Socialist legacy this is nonsense as non-Aryans can have nothing to do with National Socialism.

I portray myself as an admirer of NS, not as a National Socialist. Even the real Nazis admitted some Spaniards from the Franco regime to fight in a battle, right? What’s wrong with that?

Moreover what you endorse (The Turner Diaries solution) was not something Hitler would endorse. National Socialism and C.T.’s ideology are two different things.

Of course. NS thrived before the West’s darkest hour. Now that the darkest time has already come, and that the age of treason is everywhere, it’s time for a scorched-Earth policy.

And while you talk about kooks who believe in conspiracy theories I believe you followed cults and paranormal nonsense up until your 40’s.

Until the early 1990s to be precise, when I was in my early thirties. I did not believe in parapsychology for character flaws, but because, as I’ve explained elsewhere, I was tortured at seventeen and needed a defence mechanism.

But the real point is that, in times before the internet, it was virtually impossible to obtain the right information. I mentioned above November 1989. Major CSI figures visited Mexico City in that month. Finally, I could read the sceptical books they brought here from the US.

Unlike you I awoke when I was 13 and…

How can Neo unplug himself from the Matrix if no Morpheus contacts him through the internet? Did you awake thanks to the internet? If not, even in London pro-white info used to be far more reachable than in Mexico before the age of the internet! Yours is reasoning under a false analogy.

I have been interested in the white race since I was 17. I’m now 31.

So you were born in the late 1980s. I was interested in the white race since Second Grammar School, that is 1966, when I was 8/9-years-old, as I confess in the last book of my trilogy.

That means much more time to develop my thoughts unlike you who only awoke in 2008 when you were 50.

By ‘awakening at fifty’ I meant that before that year I did not even know that white nationalism existed or any website defending the West. I started to awake by the end of 2008, as soon as I discovered that info on the internet. Before I started to use the internet, the germane info I used to get in Mexico was almost zilch compared to the info an average American gets in the US. The main pro-white figures are not mentioned, ever, in the Mexican media. Conversely, the Phil Donahue Show at least interviewed Jared Taylor in the 1990s; 60 Minutes also interviewed William Pierce long ago, etc.

And you can put down the Charles Manson… but the future belongs to the white youth and those whites being born at present, not old Mexican boomers.

I’ve never claimed that any Mexican (a real Mexican I mean) should or will inherit the Earth. Rather, my point is that none of the Charles Manson fans—not one of them—has ever provided in this site, or in the book Siege, any rational argument as to why Manson is good for the 14 words. The only thing I hear from them is a blind admiration with no rationale for such admiration.

Perhaps I should add a new post with the title: ‘Open thread: Why is Manson good for Hitler’s 88 words?’ I bet none will advance a single compelling argument, even if I add no further post tomorrow to give critics a chance to focus on the hatnote question above…

Courage vs. groupthink

As I have said recently in the series ‘Veritas odium parit’, the mestizos and the Mediterraneans are easy to understand. They are simply self-conscious before the Aryans and they deceive themselves because they are incapable of dealing with their inferiority complex.

The Jews are somewhat more difficult to understand, but after reading the trilogy of Kevin MacDonald, especially the first of his books, their group surviving strategy is understandable.

It is the whites, especially their suicidal passion today, who represent a challenge for me; and the only thing I can say here is that Christianity modified whites as no religion has modified other races.

But Christianity is not the only factor we must consider in white decline. For more than a year I have been thinking about the tragedy that the groupthink has represented for the white race, and we can illustrate it with a passage of the biographer Stefan Zweig about Stendhal. In short, we are influenced by the environment as much as the air gets into our lungs:

The natural reflection of the individual is not his own opinion, but his adaptation to the opinion of the time. It requires special energies every time, a foolproof value—and how few possess it!—in order to oppose a spiritual pressure of millions of atmospheres, which signify great energies. An individual must meet very rare and very tested forces so that he can subsist in his uniqueness. He must possess an exact knowledge of the world, a sovereign contempt for all herd, an arrogant and enormous disregard toward them and above all courage, three times courage, courage so firmly grounded that it seconds his own conviction.

Much of what happens to contemporary whites is encompassed in the quote above, as it is very rare that an ordinary man is not psychically crushed by the millions of atmospheres of politically-correct propaganda that for more than seventy years has been over us.

As I said recently on this site, I rarely have contact with pure Aryans or Jews. But I know the soul of Mediterranean people and mestizos very well. Yesterday I watched some videos of the most intelligent Mexican intellectual of the 20th century. In this old video for example, Octavio Paz, of whom I have already spoken, appears with other Spanish-speaking intellectuals: Mario Vargas Llosa, Manuel Vázquez Montalbán, Juan Goytisolo, Jorge Semprún and Fernando Savater.

Something that has bothered me about all the Spanish-speaking intellectuals is that since the 19th century they have been crushed by those millions of atmospheres that Zweig talked about. There are simply no paradigm dissenters among them as yours truly, who really has a sovereign contempt for all herd and an arrogant and huge disregard for their worldviews!

All these intellectuals mentioned above, which include two Nobel prizes in literature, subscribed in the most abject way the secular, liberal, egalitarian, universalist and deranged altruist groupthink that kills whites today. Personally it mystifies me that, despite the high intelligence of Octavio Paz, he never questioned the dogmas of his time.

Since, like Zweig, I am very interested in the biographies of notable men, yesterday I watched some videos about the biography of Paz, who as I have said died very close to where I used to live.

I didn’t need many videos to realise that Paz was always an extraordinarily gregarious man; that he had many friends among the Spanish refugees of the Franco regime, and that he himself travelled to Spain as a young man in times of the Spanish Civil War. Later Paz would criticise the most rancid Left in Latin America. That caused him many hatreds in a Mexico dominated by troglodytes in the cultural sphere, who had Fidel Castro as their patron saint. But in the videos that I have been seeing about his biography, it seemed to me extraordinarily clear that an individual who is so tuned with the milieu will be unable to completely break with the Zeitgeist, per Zweig’s quote.

Only isolated individuals can break with the groupthink. The problem is that solitude at such level can involve personal annihilation: what happened to poor Nietzsche. It is, therefore, very understandable that less courageous minds subscribe the current paradigm in order to avoid being expelled to an emotional Siberia by their pals.

The Internet provides a means by which a radical break is possible and not suffer maddening loneliness like that suffered by Nietzsche. At least in the racist forums we can share our views with isolated dissidents: akin souls that may be posting even in other continents.

Groupthink is killing whites, victims of mass propaganda after the Second World War. That is why I will not cease in my courage, three times courage, courage so firmly grounded that it will second my own conviction.

Published in: on July 17, 2019 at 1:24 pm  Comments (2)  

Veritas odium parit, 1

‘In these days friends are won through flattery, the truth gives birth to hate’ —Terence.

Ten years ago I did not start a career as a blogger, but as a vlogger. I did it in Spanish, showing my face about the subject that I master the most: the tragedy that occurred in my family. Given that in the study of family abuse I touched on the incredible abuse of parents to children in the pre-Hispanic world, I received great insults from Mexicans with an inferiority complex. Nowadays my YouTube channel is private and I blog in English.

In the city where I live, I barely have contact with pure whites. Nor do I have dealings with Jews. My place is in an area at the extreme south of Mexico City, very close to central Tlalpan, which four decades ago my father chose for the huge colonial mansions near that centre. Originally he wanted to buy one of those mansions but finally settled for a house closer to the Golf Club. (Today I did only ten minutes walking from central Tlalpan to the house that my sister and I inherited from him.)

Thus, without whites or kikes in my immediate circle, what I know best is the tremendous inferiority complex of the Meds in general and mestizos in particular. A few years ago, for example, an Italian who posted very intelligent comments on this site got upset when I told him that an Arab player of the Italian football team was not white. This smart American-Italian stopped commenting here. The same happened to me with a son of Spaniards living at the opposite pole of this big city: he showed zero tolerance to the texts of Evropa Soberana and Arthur Kemp due to their Nordicism. We are no longer on speaking terms.

Such is the experience—experience of decades—that I have had with mestizos and Meds that I dare to conjecture that the vast majority of those who have insulted me in racist forums are not pure Aryans. I even believe that those commenters who recently tore their garments on Counter-Currents are mudbloods.

The editor of Counter-Currents is anything but a Nordicist. But recently he accepted an article that vindicates, to some extent, what I’ve been collecting on this site from several authors, including William Pierce, about why white civilisations fall: miscegenation. I refer to ‘The Saxon Savior: Converting Northern Europe’ by Ash Donaldson.

There is no doubt that telling the truth breeds hatred!

Such is the anti-Nordic hysteria of several of the Counter-Currents commenters—and elsewhere!—that I feel moved to reproduce the long article of Donaldson in seven entries, beginning with the introduction:

 

______ 卐 ______

 

“There were many whose hearts told them that they should begin to tell the secret runes.” Thus begins an ancient manuscript written in Old Saxon. It may surprise the reader to learn that these are, in fact, the opening lines of the Christian Gospel in the version known as the Heliand, produced for the Saxons in the early ninth century, after their conquest by Charlemagne.

More than a mere translation, it is a reimagining of the Christ narrative on so fundamental a plane as to constitute a message utterly distinct from the Mediterranean cultus that became the official religion of the Roman Empire. It took a thousand years for even an official conversion of Northern Europe, from the fourth-century mission of Ulfilas among the Goths to Grand Duke Jogaila’s formal adoption of Christianity for Lithuania. Why conversion took so long there, and by what methods, hinges on the relationship between the individual and the community.

Published in: on July 13, 2019 at 11:12 pm  Comments (4)