Zarathustra’s prologue, 3

 
Thus_Spoke_Zarathustra
Revilo Oliver’s texts on Aryan ethnosuicide and the need to create a religion of hate have moved me to translate some explanatory notes of Thus Spoke Zarathustra at the bottom of this entry (see also my first post in the comments section).
 
 

3

When Zarathustra came into the nearest town lying on the edge of the forest, he found many people gathered in the market place[1] for it had been promised that a tightrope walker would perform. And Zarathustra spoke thus to the people:

I teach you the Overman.[2] Human being is something that must be overcome. What have you done to overcome him?

All creatures so far created something beyond themselves; and you want to be the ebb of this great flood and would even rather go back to animals than overcome humans?

What is the ape to a human? A laughing stock or a painful embarrassment. And that is precisely what the human shall be to the Overman: a laughing stock or a painful embarrassment.[3]

You have made your way from worm to human, and much in you is still worm. Once you were apes, and even now a human is still more ape than any ape.

But whoever is wisest among you is also just a conflict and a cross between plant and ghost. But do I implore you to become ghosts or plants?

Behold, I teach you the Overman!

The Overman is the meaning of the earth. Let your will say: the Overman shall be the meaning of the earth!

I beseech you, my brothers, remain faithful to the earth and do not believe those who speak to you of extraterrestrial hopes! They are mixers of poisons whether they know it or not.

They are despisers of life, dying off and self-poisoned, of whom the earth is weary: so let them fade away!

Once the sacrilege against God was the greatest sacrilege, but God died, and then all these desecrators died. Now to desecrate the earth is the most terrible thing, and to esteem the bowels of the unfathomable higher than the meaning of the earth!

Once the soul gazed contemptuously at the body, and then such contempt was the highest thing: it wanted the body gaunt, ghastly, starved. Thus it intended to escape the body and the earth.

Oh this soul was gaunt, ghastly and starved, and cruelty was the lust of this soul!

But you, too, my brothers, tell me: what does your body proclaim about your soul? Is your soul not poverty and filth and a pitiful contentment?

Truly, mankind is a polluted stream. One has to be a sea to take in a polluted stream without becoming unclean.

Behold, I teach you the Overman: he is this sea, in him your great contempt can go under.

What is the greatest thing that you can experience? It is the hour of your great contempt. The hour in which even your happiness turns to nausea and likewise your reason and your virtue.

The hour in which you say: ‘What matters my happiness? It is poverty and filth, and a pitiful contentment. But my happiness ought to justify existence itself!’

The hour in which you say: ‘What matters my reason? Does it crave knowledge like the lion its food? It is poverty and filth and a pitiful contentment!’

The hour in which you say: ‘What matters my virtue? It has not yet made me rage. How weary I am of my good and my evil! That is all poverty and filth and a pitiful contentment!’

The hour in which you say: ‘What matters my justice? I do not see that I am ember and coal. But the just person is ember and coal!’

The hour in which you say: ‘What matters my pity? Is pity not the cross on which he is nailed who loves humans? But my pity is no crucifixion.’

Have you yet spoken thus? Have you yet cried out thus? Oh that I might have heard you cry out thus!

Not your sin – your modesty cries out to high heaven, your stinginess even in sinning cries out to high heaven![4]

Where is the lightning that would lick you with its tongue? Where is the madness with which you should be inoculated?

Behold, I teach you the Overman: he is this lightning, he is this madness! –”

When Zarathustra had spoken thus someone from the crowd cried out:

“We have heard enough already about the tightrope walker, now let us see him too!” And all the people laughed at Zarathustra. But the tightrope walker, believing that these words concerned him, got down to his work.

 

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The above German-English translation by Adrian del Caro is taken from Thus Spoke Zarathustra (Cambridge University Press, 2006). This Cambridge edition lacks the more detailed notes by Andrés Sánchez-Pascual in Así Habló Zaratustra (Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 2014), translated below.

Notes:

[1] Markt is the word used by Nietzsche, here translated literally, market. It does not refer only to the place of purchase and sale of goods but, in general, to a spacious place where people meet, the public square. Even today the central square of many German cities is called Marktplatz.

[2] On the “Overman,” a term that has led to many misunderstandings, says Nietzsche himself in Ecce homo: “The word ‘Overman’ as the designation for a type of the highest successfulness as opposed to ‘modern’ men, to ‘good’ men, to Christians and other nihilists—a word that in the mouth of a Zarathustra, the annihilation of morality, becomes a very thought-provoking word—has been understood almost everywhere with complete innocence in the sense of those values whose antithesis the figure of Zarathustra was meant to represent: that is to say, as the ‘idealistic’ type of a higher kind of man, half-‘saint,’ half-‘genius’.”

[3] An echo of fragments 82 and 83 of Heraclitus: “The most beautiful ape is ugly compared to man.” “The wisest man is an ape compared to god.”

[4] “Crying to Heaven” is a biblical expression. See Genesis, 4, 10: “And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother’s blood crieth unto me from the ground” (words of Yahweh to Cain). As he almost always does with these biblical “quotes,” Zarathustra gives it an antithetical sense from that in the original.

Quotable quote

jefferson-davis“You cannot transform the negro into anything one-tenth as useful or as good as what slavery enables them to be.”

Jefferson Davis

Published in: on August 2, 2015 at 8:11 pm  Comments (2)  

Neanderthal liberalism

“Liberalism, [Anthony Ludovici] avers, by exhausting itself on the least able and weakest, by elevating pity to a virtue out of envy for the able, had saddled the economy with a welfare state that encourages the proliferation of criminals and idle imbeciles…”

Alex Kurtagic

The Races of Men

races“Race is everything; civilization depends upon it.”

—Robert Knox, The Races of Men (1850)

Published in: on July 27, 2015 at 1:23 pm  Leave a Comment  
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On Latin America

rockwell

A passage from White Power
by George Lincoln Rockwell

If you want to see a classic scientific proof of the evil of this race mixing, compare the histories of North America and South America.

South America is as rich, or richer, in natural resources than North America.

South America has as wide, or wider, range of climate, than North America.

South America is bigger than North America.

South America was settled before North America, and has had more time to grow and develop. Why is South America not far ahead of North America in civilization?

Why do all the people of the world clamor to get into North America, but few try to migrate to South America?

Why is North America now the “richest” continent on earth, while South America is still an “undeveloped,” backward, starving continent, still containing headhunters and still largely a jungle?

You cannot claim this is because of “form of government,” or because of “freedom,” or any other reasons of economics, politics, theology, sociology, etc., because South America has had, and still has, all the things of this nature there are in North America. Most of the constitutions of Latin America are modeled directly, almost word for word, after the U. S. Constitution.

But most of South America remains, poor, chaotic, backward, dirty and “undeveloped”—as the liberals like to call the sorry, miserable colored races.

The only real difference between North America and South America is in the people—the races.

The people of North America are overwhelmingly white—and mostly Nordic.

The people of South America are mostly dark—mixtures of native colored Indians, Negro slaves and Spaniards or Portuguese.

The English, Scandinavian, Scotch, Irish, French and German settlers of North America did not come only to loot and exploit and then return to Europe with their booty, as did the Spanish and Portuguese who came to South America. The Nordics (or “Anglo-Saxons”) who came to North America came to settle, and they therefore brought their women with them, and lived as families. Northern Whites largely exterminated the native, colored population.

The Spaniards, who came only as looters and exploiters brought very, very few of their women, and joined the colored natives. Male human nature being what it is, Nature took its course.

In the North, the men produced more White Men, like themselves, mating only with their own women.

In South America, the Spaniards satisfied their lust on native Indian women, and later the Negro slave women they imported from Africa. They produced vast numbers of stunted, stupid, brown mongrels.

That is not “hate” or “bigotry”: that is historical fact. And you can see the result for yourself if you visit South America.

In Brazil and the largest part of this vast Latin American continent, you will feel like some kind of foreign giant among colored pygmies when you walk down one of their streets. The population swarms with brown, murky-eyed, stunted and lethargic human creeps in baggy rags. Only where Northern energy and capital has moved in, as in the big cities, will you find what we would call “civilization.” Wherever the native, mongrel population is left to itself, you will find filth, squalor, cruelty, incredible lack of morals or standards of conduct, political chaos, tyrants, laziness and the same kind of half-civilization you find in Africa, India and wherever the colored man rules.

These are cruel and brutal statements, perhaps. The heart of gentle folk rebels at their recitation. But the survival of Western civilization depends on their recital and their being burned into the minds of our people.

The mush-headed liberals, the Jews, the commies and the vast herds of brainwashed Americans are now doing to North America what the Spaniards did to South America.

And you can’t afford to be tender hearted about this subject, because there is no way to correct a racial mistake, once we allow it to be made.

If we allow the idiots and conscious chart-forgers and ship-wreckers to make miserable little brown mongrels out of your grandchildren and their children, then you will make a South American jungle, too, out of our mighty, wondrous North American white civilization.

Surreal Mexico

Race-wise Americans should consider the sociology down the south of Río Grande. Half a millennium of miscegenation ought to be enough not to repeat the Iberian history of the Americas.

Mexico in particular is fascinating. On February 17, 1992 a Newsweek article asked humorously, “Is Mexico blond?” because sometimes the Mexican TV commercials show blond Mexicans even though they are a tiny minority here. What Newsweek failed to report is that it is not uncommon that some Mexicans with overwhelming Indian blood celebrate when, due to Mendel laws, one of their newborns surprisingly looks much whiter than most members of their family.

The most surreal case I’ve witnessed happened in the 1990s during a show of an extreme leftist in Chapultepec’s Casa del Lago, in the open forum for stand-up comedians. I was fascinated to see books on sell authored by Stalin, Trotsky, Lenin and other commie luminaries very close a place with very poor, slightly mesticized Indians listening the comedian. Naturally, he was excoriating the Mexican bourgeois culture. But he said there was an exception: their women! The comedian said humorously that he much preferred the white Mexican woman to the common female of the proles.

mex bitchI was amazed since the brown audience never stopped to laugh at the comedian’s joke. They didn’t take any offence for what he said about the absolute superiority of the white female even though there were many brown women present; actually, virtually all of them were dark browns with their families. And this was a public show coming from an extremely radical leftist in a place that still sold books by Stalin!

We can imagine what would the reaction be if today a stand-up American Negro said the same about the appearance of the First Lady compared to, say, Nicole Kidman…

The anecdote makes my point beautifully. With five hundred years of miscegenation many “Latin” Americans, even the darkest proles, still can tell the abyssal difference between the superiority of the Aryan female before the Neanderthalesque native.

Published in: on May 15, 2015 at 9:59 am  Comments (3)  

Words of hope

by Trainspotter

When I was a child in the 70’s and 80’s, “normal” people were far more willing to express racial sentiment in ordinary conversation than they are today. But inevitably, they would preface their comments with something along the lines of “It may be wrong to say this, but…” or “I may be bad for saying this, but…”

It should go without saying that they would fold like a cheap suit if their opponent ever broke out the much feared Hitler Talisman, shrinking as a vampire before the one and true Holy Cross. Gee, I wonder why we lost? A real brain teaser, it is.

Needless to say, I look back upon that period with considerable embarrassment, including for myself, though I at least have the excuse of having been very young. How utterly inept, how unbelievably weak was the opposition to anti-white liberalism’s triumphal march. Lots of grumbling, but nary a single effective shot was fired. Conservatism, failure is thy name.

And today, as we look around, we see the price. The rapes and murders, sure, but perhaps even more painful is the general ugliness, the lack of manners and common decency. The collapse of trust, the absence of beauty, the sacred ruined by the profane. Will we ever be able to accurately calculate the billions of relationships that were destroyed, or never came into existence in the first place, because of anti-white liberalism and the Jewish attack? Not to mention the physical racial damage that has already taken place, and we’re in early days still.

The Brave New World: dishonest and dumb with bulbous lips. Or switching to Orwell, forget a human boot on a human neck, forever. Instead, think of a grotesque mulatto/mestizo face, scowling and leering, but with lifeless eyes devoid of intelligence. Always, until the end of days, having to look at that grotesque thing. I ask, which fate is worse? Perhaps they are the same?

And then there is the matter of genocide. Our enemies literally presume to be able to alter the very DNA of our people by mixing us with other races until we no longer exist as a coherent, identifiable people, thus deconstructing whiteness forever. And what did those that “resisted” this insane and evil agenda do? Stammer about, cringing and apologetic. Truly, more surreal than a David Lynch film.

But as the psychological transition proceeds, we are seeing something different emerge. In the depths of our despair, grumbling while deep in our cups, a new confidence begins to stir. What is this?

Maybe it can be called the mentality of the Happy Warrior. We’ve lost our country, but that just gives us the opportunity to create a far, far better one. Since I seem to be quoting songs a lot today, “School’s out… forever!” Feel the liberating summer breeze. No going back to that hellhole, not ever. We’ll build a new school instead, a grand school. A school of our own.

Have fun with it, laugh at the enemy, mock him, despise him. Most importantly by far, look down on him! Always. Folks, he’s no better than the gum on your shoe.

Love your own, work toward the survival of our people. The dream of the White Republic already lives in the minds of many, and that is the dream that our movement must revolve around. I love the concept of “nostalgia for the future.”

What must emerge, and as bad as things look, I think is emerging, is a movement brimming with intellectual confidence and moral superiority, the exact opposite of the conservative failures. Cocky, smart, virile. In love, and deeply so, but furious. That’s the spirit, right there. Our enemies are right to be be nervous. If you were seeking to destroy us, do you want that to come together? Do you really want to go against people who are truly in love, but with a white hot fury against outsiders?

It’s happening, in ways great and small. Golden Dawn, whether it ultimately succeeds or fails, has already shown that holding one’s head high accomplishes far more than conservative cringing. And closer to home, the new video put out by White Rabbit Radio is brilliant, and loaded with the self-confidence and overall spirit that is required. Sure, it’s just a cartoon, but it has the right stuff—and you can’t buy that stuff. Conservatives have tons of money, but yet they fail all the time. A ridiculous conservative couldn’t have come up with that video in a million years, despite having a million times our resources. Imagine what we could do with one percent of the money that conservatives routinely squander?

That’s the way forward, not casting pearls before swine, or groveling before cultist lunatics, or catering to the paycheck conservatives, or appealing to self-interested dregs who have no interests beyond their retirement accounts. Instead, feel the liberating summer breeze. It’s there.

Uncle Adolf’s table talk, 168

the-real-hitler

12th August 1942; isolated remarks

Dancing was the first method of artistic expression employed by man. The most beautiful dance in the world is without doubt the waltz, a perfect harmony of movement and music. After it I should place the Schuhplattler dance of Upper Bavaria, which, thanks to its austere and dignified style, never makes a man look ridiculous. But the ballroom dancing of today…! It’s nothing but a series of simian posturings!

Published in: on April 2, 2015 at 4:10 pm  Leave a Comment  

Animals

By that standard most people are simply animals—thinking animals, but still animals, without the essence of humanity.

William Pierce

For those who don’t believe Whites are capable of imposing this madness on themselves, I will point to France during the French Revolution which abolished slavery in the name of the “Rights of Man” and made every Negro a citizen of the French Republic.

Hunter Wallace

 
eugne-delacroix
 
Together with niggers and sand niggers, Frenchmen and Frenchwomen, as a massive reaction against the killed, far-leftist journalists, have been waving today the flags of every nation on the streets, chanting the ethno-suicidal slogans “Liberté, égalité, fraternité!” (remember that their Revolution guillotined blonds) and “Pour la démocratie, l’égalité, les libertés. Combattons tous les fascismes!” that mark the modern West. These shocking images of the current Zeitgeist that afflicts not only Paris and France but the Western world certainly count for a million words…

To grasp what has been happening to the white peoples—left-wing psychosis from the French Revolution to the present day—one must read Pierce’s Hunter. This was his second novel, which first edition appeared on December 1989, two hundred years after the Revolution. See for example this specific passage, or all of my excerpts here.

In one of the above-linked passages, and also in Who We Are, Pierce said that History has an enormous inertia. This, in my opinion, beautifully explains the psyche of these white animals and their herd behavior including the Frenchmen, both contemporary and those who started the mess a couple of centuries ago.*


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(*) “The French Revolution soon took a sub-racial undertone—often it was enough to have blond hair to be declared a noble and be beheaded. This was taken to an extreme under a bloodthirsty period known as the ‘reign of terror’ and led to civil and foreign wars for ten years” (from chapter 26 of March of the Titans: The Complete History of the White Race).

Extermination • IV

Libro
 
In a Louis XVI-style bedroom
 

In May 2012 I received a surprise in the cursed house.* Someone had left a box on the outside edge of the restroom for visitors. Opening it I saw something that amazed me: a little, divine animal! It looked like a bunny of short life but it was so beautiful and graceful that it could not be a rabbit, I thought. It took me time to recognize that it was actually a white bunny, but so otherworldly I felt that I had difficulty in reconciling my two hemispheres: one saying it could only be a divine creature, and another saying it was a little rabbit who had come to the world not long ago.

Almost abandoned in a box without custody, it had been one of many bunnies of a birthday gift to the children of a party bought by one of my irresponsible brothers, the father of the celebrated child. In a subsequent chapter I tell you how I got to interact with the creature, whom I rescued from an uncertain fate because of the pettiness of my family and Mexicans in general. Previously I had never interacted in such way with an animal; in fact, I never wanted to have pet even though I did not get married and have no offspring. But seeing such defenseless being at the mercy of the modified apes in my family moved me to adapt it. I’ll tell stories but in this chapter all I can add is that, over time, the white rabbit would help me to finally find my way out of the inverted world of Alice.

Just under two and a half years later I would receive a shock that changed the planned architecture of this book. The newspaper The Mirror reported that four young males of Seaham in Durham, England, between seventeen and twenty raped, tortured and murdered Percy: a bunny that, in the picture you can see on the internet with the naked young, looks identical to my pet, who is now an adult rabbit.

They tried to shave Percy, set her alight, tried to drown her and then threw her still alive from the window. The human monsters, all white, even filmed with a cell what they did: a video that the owner of the bunny (also white) could not see when the police arrested the perpetrators; just a still picture to identify the missing pet. The punishment for this crime was insignificant in today’s Britain. I would have ordered torture—exactly what they did to the rabbit—and then throwing them out the window to let them die in agony lying on the ground (tit for tat). In fact, if by some miracle of fate an extraterrestrial force had empowered me like a Karellen on my recent trip to the UK, I would have done it already.

We must remember that, had the Anglo-Saxon demons allowed Germany an empire from the Atlantic to the Urals, in areas under the Nazi flag the torment animals would have slowed considerably. Personally, I consider Hermann Göring my patron saint: and he should also be the patron for those who yearn for a world free of such abuses of human power. Never forget the caricature of 1933 on how freed animals—no more vivisection! no more animal testing!—salute their savior Hermann.

nazi-cartoon

Unlike my beloved Nazis, in both DW and my blog in English I talked about what the non-Nazis are capable to do with defenseless animals. I mentioned fur factories in China where some mammals are skinned alive; farms in Mexico where they hang the rabbits from their ears to death, something that has also happened in some Australian farms. This and what they did to Percy pierced my soul. Her photo in The Mirror shows her in a posture of quiet confidence before the humans who would torture her: identical image to the positions of how my own bunny—so used like Percy to benign owners—peacefully relaxes in human presence. The betrayal of the universe that Percy must have experienced facing the change from human angels to human devils is such that I have dedicated this book to her memory.

Although what those evil humans in Durham did was condemned by other English, so-called normal people do not stay behind. Human beings whom I consider exterminable are capable of pouring concentrated solutions for days in laboratory rabbits, and to prevent they close their eyes they fasten their lids with tongs! (How many women are unaware that their cosmetics are experimented such way…) This happens now with the blessing of society precisely because World War II was won by the wicked. Few know that in 1944-1947 the Soviets, Jews and Americans practiced a holocaust of Germans, the “Hellstorm” preventing inter alia that the benign policies of Hermann, who had saved our cousins in the brief historical window represented by the Third Reich, were implemented in the post-war West.

The philosopher of science Thomas Kuhn used the optical illusion of the duck-rabbit to show how a “paradigm shift” makes you see the same information in a completely different way. If westerners had not passed through a brainwashing process, instead of seeing a duck (the Nazis were evil) they would see a rabbit (they were actually good!). I noticed this in 1992 when studying the Faces of Bélmez in a small village of Andalusia. I started believing that the faces of the kitchen of María Gómez Cámara were a paranormal phenomenon until some day, looking at the face called La Pelona, I made a change in my inner subjectivity. I experienced the feeling that the broad strokes of the face were the work of human hand, shattering the parapsychological research upon which I had placed my hopes. Well ahead the book I will tell the details of that misadventure in Spain; suffice it to say that the paradigm shift comes from the inner will. Following the example of Kuhn, the volitional faculty of my mind stopped seeing a bird of the family Anatidae and discovered an Oryctolagus cuniculus.

duck-rabbit_illusion

The same can happen in our inner eye while revaluating Christian and neo-Christian values to their National Socialist antithesis (cf. FR and DW). Why do white nationalists, most of whom are Christian theists and neo-Christian atheists and both scared of The Turner Diaries are dissociated psychologically? Because, unlike William Pierce, with their stupid love for the modified apes they condemn other animals to a torture for millennia—while potentially the Aryans, who are going extinct, are capable of becoming Görings. For a truly integrated individual it becomes a no-brainer that what is moral is putting a screeching halt to the sadism towards our cousins, and the only way to do that is by dispatching the human devils. A change from love to hatred for sinful mankind—great hatred I mean: a hatred à la Yahweh from the mouth of Jeremiah—represents a paradigm shift. Does the quote from the novel Childhood’s End by Arthur Clarke I included in the fifth and final book in HS is recalled? In that novel humans are metamorphosed into a higher being. I quote again one of these passages, but remember that in the novel Karellen was the leader of the aliens who visited Earth: physically indistinguishable from the Christian iconography of devils.

“If you want a single proof of the essential—how shall I put it—benevolence of the Overlords, think of that cruelty-to-animals order which they made within a month of their arrival. If I had had any doubts about Karellen before, that banished them—even though that order has caused me more trouble than anything else he’s ever done!

That was scarcely an exaggeration, Stormgren thought. The whole incident had been an extraordinary one, the first revelation of the Overlords’ hatred of cruelty. That, and their passion for justice and order, seemed to be the dominant emotions in their lives—as far as one could judge them by their actions.

And it was the only time Karellen had shown anger, or at least the appearance of anger. “You may kill one another if you wish,” the message had gone, “and that is a matter between you and your own laws. But if you slay, except for food or in self-defense, the beasts that share your world with you—then you may be answerable to me.”

No one knew how comprehensive this ban was supposed to be, or what Karellen would do to enforce it. They had not long to wait.

The Plaza de Toros was full when the matadors and their attendants began their processional entry. Everything seemed normal; the brilliant sunlight blazed harshly on the traditional costumes, the great crowd greeted its favorites as it had a hundred times before. Yet here and there faces were turned anxiously towards the sky, to the aloof silver shape fifty kilometers above Madrid.

Then the picadors had taken up their places and the bull had come snorting out into the arena. The skinny horses, nostrils wide with terror, had wheeled in the sunlight and their riders forced them to meet their enemy. The first lance flashed—made contact—and at that moment came a sound that had never been heard on earth before.

It was the sound of ten thousand people screaming with the pain of the same wound—ten thousand people who, when they had recovered from the shock, found themselves completely unharmed. But that was the end of that bullfight, and indeed of all bullfighting, for the news spread rapidly.

Before I woke to the real world and stop demonizing the Third Reich, Childhood’s End was my favorite book. Now I see the devil Karellen, as painted by Clarke, was too magnanimous to humans. The sole fact that there are seedy slaughterhouses in the Spanish-speaking world warrants more drastic steps than that character’s actions.

In Mexico compartments for calves are so narrow that they cannot even turn around in the cage. When growing up farmers cut horns, mark with iron and castrate without anesthesia. On trucks en route to the Mexican slaughterhouses the animals sometimes travel more than a day without food or drink; they arrive hungry, thirsty and dizzy to Hell. The first thing the poor animals see in the slaughterhouse is a gruesome spectacle: pools of blood and skinned or dismembered carcasses of other cows; severed heads on the floor… They enter the first circles of hell in a state of panic. Arriving at the seventh the blow the killers give on the cow’s head does not always kill it. Sometimes this noble animal is injured, in shock and with the deepest pain wondering with no language why the demons of hell do you what they do. Mexicans are so exterminable that they usually put live pigs into an enormous pool of boiling water so that the Gehenna’s pain by fire makes the animal drop off its hairs. (In Mexico people are fond of eating pork rind—incidentally, a treat for my father—and they don’t like seeing hairs on it.)

The Spaniards are not left far behind. They prepare the bull in a bullfight to make it less dangerous by cutting the horns’ tips, smearing petroleum jelly on its eyes to blur the vision and an irritant solution onto the legs so that the animal will be always moving around the bull ring. (Before, they would have stuck a needle into the genitals to stunt their growth.) They put tow into its nose for making it harder to breathe; they give strong laxatives before the fight, and beat its loins and kidneys with sacks before it faces the matador. (And let us not mention what can be seen in the Spanish and Latin American television after the bull enters the arena.)

Only now it may be glimpsed the power of my unconscious during the dream in Madrid. If from the unconscious we take it not only to consciousness but to the super-consciousness it means that most humans should not exist. It is not enough that, according to polls, the majority of Spaniards today are uninterested in bullfighting. The mere fact that they and other people are involved in the chain of cruelty to animals—either using a product of feminine vanity experimented on the eyes of a bunny who was prevented from closing its eyelids, or gobbling the cutlet of a pig that had been submerged alive in boiling water—should be enough to arouse the exterminating hatred of the alien devil. Consider for example this passage from a commentary by one J. Marone, who in 2005 reviewed for Amazon Books Slaughterhouse: The Shocking Story of Greed, Neglect, and Inhumane Treatment Inside the US Meat Industry:

Cows, pigs and chickens are taken through the slaughter house alive. Cows are often alive all the way through the line, this includes while they are getting their legs chopped off with cutters—imagine that… They [those who work there] do not stop the line for these inconveniences. The workers shove electric prods in their rectums and eyes—deep into the sockets occasionally pulling out the eye to get them moving to the slaughter line.

After reading this [the book] I will never eat another piece of meat again. It is not my decision to make any other living thing suffer. But I find it amazing that when you go to share this book, people don’t want to know. They would rather stay ignorant and that in itself has shocked me tremendously.

The italics from the last paragraph are mine, and express why it is not enough that humans claim ignorance, as almost every adult has heard what happens in the slaughterhouses. When recently in my preparations for writing this chapter I began to read what was happening in those places I promised myself, like Marone, not to put pieces of corpses of mammals or birds in my mouth again. And now that I write these lines I notice that, to be consistent, I must also leave the dairy. From now on I will not be complicit of what dairy cows suffer in Mexican farms, which will eventually be killed in such spine-chilling way anyway. (I’ll even quit eating eggs. In this country of exterminable Neanderthals they put five chickens in a cage of less than one square meter where they live a year or more with electric lights to prevent normal sleeping hours and having them laying eggs like crazy. No wonder that a visitor to these coops called those places “gallinaceous madhouses.”)

I do not believe in the postmortem survival of the soul in the Christian or Buddhist sense. But clearly, Anatole France was right to say that, until you’ve stopped eating animal flesh (or derivatives of tormented animals I would say), a part of your soul remains unawakened. The thought of France takes us back to the points made in the fourth book of HS, where the psychogenic evolution of man is exposed. If regarding childrearing the Spaniards had taken a psychogenic quantum leap compared to Amerindians who still ate flesh of their children, a new leap means developing, in our times, empathy for our cousins in the animal kingdom.

Unlike Hitler and other vegetarians of the Nazi party, most Aryans have not gone through that leap. Just look at the pictures of mammals in laboratory experiments performed throughout North America and Europe and see that mankind is truly a damned species. I won’t incur into the rudeness of adding those pictures in this chapter: that is a task I leave to my readers. What I’m getting at is that the development of empathy has not even reached white nationalism or neo-Nazism understood in the American way. For example, on page 731 of Freedom’s Sons, the last novel in the saga of Harold Covington about the creation of a white nation northwest of North America, the author gives as ignoble the prohibition of eating beef, and on page 884 he puts as noble the practice of a child to go out hunting rabbits not to eat them, but for pleasure.

A parenthesis: When I talk about the extermination of the Neanderthals, in which I include virtually all non-whites and a good part of whites, it is not that I have forgotten the Jews. By now it should be obvious that those who continue cruel Mosaic practices in their treatment of animals to be eaten (in addition to the Talmudic injunction to exterminate the best of the goyim) are shown at the top of my blacklist. So, when I talk to exterminate the Neanderthalesque whites in the future, it is perfectly understood that cities like Jerusalem or Tel Aviv had already been ethnically cleansed and renamed as Himmler City or Eichmann City.

Such exterminating fantasies would not seem unhealthy if we do a thought experiment. In the article that gave the title to DW I quoted a nonfiction book by Arthur Clarke in which he spoke of the “Judgment from the Stars” the earthlings could experience. If we imagine that in real life someone like a Karellen visited our planet, what is the first thing he would see from his distant ships of silver, far above the human swarms? Urban sprawl. Environmentally destructive industries and bringing the cameras closer, abject human misery and unimaginable suffering of other species that share the planet with us. If, as in Clarke’s novel, the visitor also possessed machines to study the past of the species he would also perceive, along the hell that the naked apes put their cousins in, that throughout history and prehistory these apes had behaved hideously with their own children. It is worthwhile summarizing the statistics of the fourth book in HS.

With their machines to literally see the human past this hypothetical extraterrestrial would be taken aghast at the extent of infanticide: from fifteen to fifty percent of the total number of births in prehistoric times. Already in historical times, he would see thousands of young children slaughtered ritually, offered to the Babylonian goddess Ishtar. He would see the sacrifice of the infants of the Pelasgians; of the Syrians to Jupiter and Juno and more infant offerings at Gezer and Egypt in the centuries the earthlings call 10th-8th before Christ. Not to mention what the visitor would see with his machines when focusing them on the ancient Semites of Carthage, where burning children alive ordained by their own parents reached its infamous zenith. Something similar our visitor could see about other Phoenicians, Canaanites, Moabites, Sepharvites and the ancient Hebrews: who in their origins offered their eldest son as a sacrifice to their god(s). With their magic to see our past, the alien visitor would learn that it was not until the 4th century of the Gregorian calendar that Valentinian decreed that families must raise all their children, although both the exposure as the abandonment of infants continued in Europe until a council took action against the custom of killing one’s own kids.

Far worse things would our visitor see in the lands inhabited by non-whites: thousands of babies, mostly female, abandoned in the streets of ancient China; and how those not abandoned were put to death in cold water. He would see that in feudal Japan they suffocated the baby with wet paper covering her nose and mouth; how infanticide was systematic in the feudal Rajputs in India, sometimes throwing their children alive to the crocodiles; and how in pre-Islamic Arabia they buried alive a number of newborn females.

With his technology based on unimaginable principles the visitor would also see that the inhabitants of sub-Saharan Africa killed their children much more often than did other races: in Årebo, the Nama Hottentots, the inhabitants of the Lake Victoria Nyanza, the Tswana, the Ilso, the people of the bush, the !Kung of the Kalahari Desert, the Kikuyu (the most populous group in what is now Kenya), the Tswana, the Vadshagga, the Ibo village in Nigeria where the neonate was also buried alive or the Kuni, where every mother had killed at least one of their children. He would even see that child sacrifice was practiced in Zimbabwe as recently as the beginnings of the century the earthlings denominate 20th century. He would also see truly massive infanticides among the natives of the countless islands of Oceania, and in New Guinea, and even more among the extremely primitive aborigines of Australia, Tasmania and Polynesia. He would learn that in American tribes infanticide continued in times the practice had been abandoned in Europe, and also learn about the cannibalism among the Dene Amerindians and those of the Mackenzie Mountains; and that in the region now known as South Texas the Mariame practiced female infanticide on a large scale. He would see the same not only among the Central and South American tribes, but in the civilizations before the Spanish conquest where ritual slaughter of women and children suggests that they did it out of pure sadism. The hypothetical Karellen would see what I also mentioned in HS with reliable academic references: that some of these women and children were flayed on the face, or suffered eye mutilation before being executed. Finally, the visitor would see that, after the Conquest, the cruelty of the Mesoamerican and the Incan was prohibited by the Spanish only to be transferred to animals, which explains the cruelty in the slaughterhouses and farms at a time when our visitor does not have to use his devices to open the Complete Book of History and Prehistory of the species he studies.

It is clear where I want to go. If it is legitimate for this hypothetical alien to remove from the face of the Earth a newly-arrived species whose haughtiness blinds them from their evil, how can it be pathological that one of the terrestrials reaches the same conclusion? Just because, unlike the visitor, he does not have technological power?

The sad truth is that infanticide and human cruelty have not been atoned inwardly, only transferred onto our cousins.

In DW I spoke of the Star-Child. An eschatology from above would be a son of man returning on the clouds with great power and glory to judge mankind, or, in the new version of the myth, a David Bowman in a sphere of light approaching the Earth as in Kubrick’s film. But since I’m skeptical of both personal deities and intelligent civilizations in the Milky Way, I could conceive, rather than an eschatology “from above” an eschatology “from below.” I refer to the intra-psychic evolution of a human being while developing an infinitely more intense empathy of what the bulk of modified apes (whom I call Neanderthals) have developed.

The rhetoric currently in use among the protectors of children and animals in the West is only a first stammering of what we have in mind. Unlike the hypothetical Star-Child, the most fanatical “animal rights” activists whom I have personally met don’t even dare to see that, besides humans, other species must be removed from the Earth and its oceans. A Star-Child with mile-high empathy and powers would not tolerate, for example, the torture of several hours that a pack of killer whales inflict a whale calf while killing it to rip off its tongue. And pictures of hyenas eating a little elephant alive—there are video recordings of how a member of the pack rips the trunk of the alive elephant—speak for themselves and do not need lucubration on how we would proceed.

Animal-on-animal cruelty aside, the hatred that the metamorphosed human also feels for other modified apes around him can be glimpsed in the following anecdote. Before I went to England with plans to emigrate, I left my pet in the cursed house that, as we saw in the fifth book of HS, is virtually on Tlalpan Viaduct: a freeway that goes on the road to Cuernavaca where trucks and cars constantly pass, even well after midnight. Seeing my bunny in a cultivated garden that is paradise for him, but surrounded by such noise, especially at night, I imagined—with powers à la Bowman—eliminating all and every one of the Mexicans who drive that stretch of the road to avoid the background roar for my bunny. Such fantasy would not seem outlandish if, on a new scale of values, we value the modified apes negatively; and noble species of animals including lagomorph mammals, positively regardless of the relative size of their brains or sophistication of their culture.

It does not matter that to cleanse Tlalpan Viaduct from humans it requires eliminating millions of Mexicans, as there are millions who take that road. The interests of a single animal trump the interests of millions of humans, insofar as the modified apes are valued on the negative side of our scale. With the exception of a few nymphs as beautiful as Catalina who reside here, no inhabitant of this city is worth it—of male Criollos for example, I know exactly no one with honor or true nobility of soul. The sum of millions of modified apes in this city that Farnham O’Reilly declared that needs to be razed and transformed into a memorial atonement park dedicated to Nature does not give a positive for the mere fact that they are millions. It gives a large negative. Conversely, a single modified dinosaur (contemporary bird) or a lagomorph, as much as modest and discreet its life may be, is a small positive. The arithmetic with which the Star-Child judges the species on Earth, including Homo sapiens, has little to do with the standards about the “positive” and “negative” for humans.

A world of cultivated forests and Percys never again to be tortured by monstrous whites or of any other skin color is what shall inherit the Earth. It cannot be more significant that my most important works, Hojas Susurrantes and this one I am starting, Extermination, are dedicated to non-humans: a tree and a bunny.

Maxfield_Parrish_HilltopIn the final chapter of Childhood’s End the metamorphosed children eliminated all animal and plant life, except their own. I do not think we need to go that far. In the laws of the universe there is an Aristotelian golden mean between the apocalyptic children of the end and the law of the jungle that currently impose the naked apes. The mean is turning the world into an Elysian island. Young Clarke at twenty-nine beautifully described that place with his prose: the city of Lys in his first novella, Against the Fall of Night where, besides some animals, an evolved form of human being is allowed—a human where empathy is imposed and the original sin is gone. But let us go down the heights of genuine science fiction for a moment and return to the real world.

The monastic orders wrought by the Spanish crown alongside the soldiery, including some mendicant orders that protected the natives, did not represent a genuine empathy. The 16th century Spain was Quixote; and these orders represented a counterproductive version of empathy or compassion for those who suffer. What the Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians and eventually the Jesuits did in the Americas was quixotic folly: to conceive the naturals as souls to be saved.

In Tasmania and the Caribbean islands the Europeans would exterminate the natives but not having exterminated them in the American continent led to, over the Colonial period, the natives’ displacement of their sadism onto both their offspring (as we saw in HS) as the animals. If instead of catechizing they would have cornered the natives, as Americans would do in this continent, the New Spaniard psychoclass in the Americas would have reflected the Iberian psychoclass undyed of Mesoamerican sadism. The social engineering of the Counter-Reformation was the big culprit for the gestation of a mesticized cruelty between Spanish bullfighting and Amerindian sacrificial passion in this huge part of the continent.

The next chapter describes the stubborn infatuation of my father for the Dominican monk who protected Amerindians the most and originated, with his lamentations, the Black Legend against Spain. At the moment we can only say that the basis of my feelings towards humanity are already in these pages albeit very, very lightly sketched. HS was like the tunnel Dave suddenly found himself in: a vortex of colored lights where, terrified, he traveled at great speed across vast distances in space, viewing bizarre cosmological phenomena and strange landscapes of unusual colors. But HS ends before the final metamorphosis, before the new Odysseus discovers himself as middle aged in a bedroom designed in Louis XVI style; seeing progressively later versions of himself and, finally, as a very old man lying on a bed.

The rest of this book will explain how, due to the evilness in my family and society—Evil with capital E—, with no need of extraterrestrial agency as a black monolith at the foot of a bed for a centenarian elder dying in that bedroom, I suffered an inner metamorphosis and now come back to hate humanity so much as the Star-Child hated it.

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