Reflections of an Aryan woman, 95

One might also recall the resurgence of vivisection, which coincided with the revival of interest in experimental science in the 16th, and especially the 17th and 18th centuries and since. It is unfortunate that this infamy, which has assumed frightening proportions in the last century and in our own time among peoples rotten with Christian and rationalist anthropocentrism, has spread, precisely at the same time as this anthropocentric attitude, to all the countries colonised politically or morally (or in both ways) by the European or American West; that is to say, has practically spread to the whole world.

To cite only one example, but one of the most significant, the Indian Government—democratic and humanitarian, as it should be in the world dominated by the victors of 1945—has, in recent years, encouraged the export of thousands of monkeys, knowing full well that they would be subjected to criminal experiments (which the government no doubt considered ‘praiseworthy’, since they were carried out ‘in the interests of science’, and therefore of ‘man’).

And on the soil of India itself, since the so-called ‘independence’ of the country as in the time of the British, various research centres exist and are multiplying, in particular cancer research, in whose laboratories the same horrors take place as in those of Paris, London, Chicago or Moscow. And in the big cities, stray dogs, considered ‘useless’ by the neophytes of anthropocentrism, die in atrocious suffering, systematically poisoned with strychnine, as I saw some die in Greece in 1970.[1]

And what to say of the treatment of the dogs of Constantinople, the most brutally collected in the world—with lasso and pincers—and thrown on a deserted island in the Sea of Marmara to die of hunger and thirst, by order of the ‘Young Turk’ government a few months after its accession to power, in 1908?[2] However, despite all these horrors and many others, a few decades ago there was still a very strong bond between many human beings and their domestic dogs or cats (in Western Europe, at the beginning of this century); war or draft horses; oxen and buffaloes for ploughing. The attachment of the Arab to his horse or camel was proverbial. The progressive mechanisation of the world is now breaking this bond, in all countries.

When I returned to India in 1971, it was a great joy for me to see, in the countryside flooded with monsoon rain, so many good big buffaloes, well-fed, plunged with delight up to their snouts in the innumerable ponds, and ruminating peacefully. There were, and still are, thousands of them. But until when? Until, as elsewhere with horses and oxen, tractors replace them. And tractors are bound to replace them, if ever larger tracts of fertile land are to be stripped of their forests—in India as everywhere—to feed a population whose numbers are doubling every thirty years.

The proliferation of man is, as I have said, at the root of the mechanisation of life: an unthinkable process, because it is perfectly superfluous, in a population as sparse as it was a few millennia ago. On the other hand, medical technology, placed at the service of invasive anthropocentrism, is contributing more and more to the proliferation of man by acting against natural selection. This is a vicious circle that must be broken at all costs. We, the Aryan racists, the followers of Adolf Hitler, were and are the only human beings who are serious about breaking it by giving free rein to saving natural selection. But since the ‘twenty-fifth hour’ had already sounded many years, if not centuries, before 1933, we could not keep the power and win the war.

And the process of the gradual debasement of man, together with the extermination of the noblest beasts and the destruction of the forests—the process of the desecration and uglification of the earth—continues. It can only continue, given the mental attitude of the men now in power.

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[1] Now, in 1976, dogs in Delhi without collars or tags are electrocuted—or sent to the All India Institute of medical sciences for experimentation. This year the municipality has eliminated more than 30,000 of them.

[2] It is interesting to recall that the three main members of the ‘Young Turk’ government—Enver Pasha, Talat Pasha and Essad Pasha—were three Jews whose families had been ‘converted’ to Islam.

Published in: on March 20, 2022 at 11:58 am  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 95  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 93

If there is an immanent Justice, it is to be wished that such people die of hunger and thirst, abandoned, disowned by all those in whose affection they believe, on some deserted island or at the bottom of a dungeon. They are sometimes punished in an unexpected way, such as the man and woman whose punishment was reported in the journal of the Société Protectrice des Animaux of Lyon, without publishing their names.

Parents of a six-year-old boy, they had, despite the child’s cries and pleas, pushed the dog out of the door of their car, which had devoted all its love to them, and then set off again at full speed, arrived at their holiday destination, settled into a hotel and fell asleep without remorse. But serene Justice was watching.

The next day, the two unworthy people found their only son dead, in a pool of blood he had cut his veins with his father’s Gillette. On the bedside table they found, written in his childish hand, a few words: his verdict against them and all those like them; something to remember day and night, for the rest of their lives: ‘Daddy and Mommy are monsters. I can’t live with monsters!’

This act of heroism by a very young child could not, alas, give the unfortunate beast back its lost home. But it has symbolic value. It proclaims, in its tragic simplicity, that in this world of the Dark Ages, almost at its end, where everything belongs to man, and where man belongs more and more to the Forces of the Abyss, it is better to die than to be born. It is similar, in its essence, to all the glorious suicides motivated by an intense disgust with the environment that was once respected if not admired, to the sudden revelation of one’s true vileness, for all vileness—especially all treason—is cowardice. It is similar to all similar acts of heroism—suicides or, sometimes, murders requiring even more despair than suicide—motivated by the awareness that the inevitable future, the consequence of the present, can only be hell.

I am thinking, in particular, of the words that the sublime Magda Goebbels addressed to the aviatrix Hanna Reitsch, a few days before giving her six children the poison that was to save them from the horror of the post-war period: ‘They believe in the Führer and the Reich’, she said. ‘When these are no more, they will have no place in the world. May Heaven give me the strength to kill them!’

In the world the Führer had dreamed of, cowardice—and especially cowardice on the part of people of the Aryan race—would have been unthinkable. The boy whose death I have recalled would have been at ease there, for he only wanted to live among people as noble as himself (and no doubt his ancestors). He would surely have felt, in the Defender of eternal values—like himself a friend of animals, and especially of dogs—a leader worthy of his total allegiance. But the last attempt at recovery had failed, fifteen years before his birth. The present world, the post-war world, was revealed to him in the person of his abominable parents.

Because it was not only those who believed and still believe in ‘the Führer and the Reich’ but all ‘good and brave’ characters, all Aryans worthy of the name, who had no place in it, and whom one meets there—as one might expect—less and less.

 

______ 卐 ______

 

Editor’s Note:

‘In this world of the Dark Ages, almost at its end, where everything belongs to man, and where man belongs more and more to the Forces of the Abyss…’

I couldn’t have said it better! We live in the darkest hour of the West, and we must pray that Mordor will soon be covered in lava after the ring is cast into the place it should never have come from.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 92

I remember with nostalgia the beautiful cats that abounded, more than half a century ago, in the streets and houses of the good city of Lyon where I was born, and where I grew up.

Rare were the shops where one didn’t see one of these felines sitting at the door, or comfortably stretched out on the counter, or rolled up in a ball in its basket, somewhere in a corner, well-fed, loved, trusting, ready to be caressed by the child that I was. There was rarely a family without one, unless there was a dog in its place, also loved, pampered, happy (usually). Most city dwellers didn’t have holidays then, certainly not paid holidays. And the few who did, perhaps didn’t feel obliged to spend them away from home. Or, if they had to go away, at least one member of the family stayed behind to look after the animals or a neighbour who didn’t leave town, or a complaisant caretaker took care of it.

My parents had a cat since before I was born. And as far back as I can remember, I can see myself running my hand with delight through the warm, purring, silky fur, while a beautiful velvet head rubbed against me, and two half-closed amber eyes looked at me with total abandon.

Today, in the same city and so many others, rarer and rarer are the children who grow up in the daily company of beloved pets, dogs or cats. The question arises: ‘What should we do with them when we go on the necessary holidays? And what would be done with them if we had to move to a new building and weren’t allowed to have pets in the new flat?

It is no longer conceivable to spend a whole life in the same house, without annual holidays, without travel, without changes. One prefers to do without familiar animals rather than car trips. Few people give up all travel for the sake of the animals they have taken under their protection (I know a few who did, however) in case they cannot take them with them and cannot find anyone they can rely on to look after them.

On the other hand, at the time of the annual rush of holidaymakers out of the cities, one meets in the streets, along the roads, and even in the woods, sometimes tied to the trunks of trees, and thus destined to die slowly of thirst and hunger, abandoned animals. (A few years ago, several thousand dogs were discovered abandoned in this way in the forest of Fontainebleau.) They, in their innocence, had trusted men and given them unconditional love. And these same men had, for a time, seemed to love whom they had fed and pampered, and whom they finally kicked out of their carriage, to go away, with a light heart, without responsibilities, without embarrassment, to enjoy their leave; in fact, whom they had never loved.
 

______ 卐 ______

 

Editor’s note:

I would like to use this entry to reiterate my differences with Savitri regarding the animal kingdom. The best way to do it is to respond not to what Savitri just said, but to what a concerned reader told us yesterday. This was my response in that thread:

Amen, but I would put your #12 as my #1. After all, the first thing the Nazis did when they came to power was to ban cruelty to animals, right?

Regarding your #13, on this point I somewhat disagree with Savitri in that there is a serious conflict of interest between the species. Yesterday I saw a clip of some orange parakeets [only two seconds!: here] that really sublimated my soul when I saw them looking so sweet… If I had the power, I would exterminate those snakes that climb trees to hunt and swallow them.

Neither Savitri nor today’s Gaia fans (remember that old contributor of this site, Manu Rodríguez?) see this conflict of interest. They have idealised the animal kingdom just as Christians and neochristians idealise humans.

The way ‘my Kalki’, so to speak, understands exterminationism is somewhat different from Savitri’s Kalki.

Published in: on March 16, 2022 at 11:58 am  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 92  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 91

The passage of the poem quoted above, reminds me of the title of a book published in France a few years ago—a cry of alarm at the idea that what will be, in a generation or two, the amplitude of human expansion on the surface of our unhappy planet: Six milliards d’insectes.

Six billion insects, i.e. six billion two-legged mammals with the habits and mentality of the termite mound—and none, or almost none, of the beautiful beasts that have graced the Earth since the dawn of time! For man doesn’t only kill wild beasts with his hands. There are those he condemns to death merely by removing their essential living space: the forest, savanna, even, in the case of the small half-wild beasts which are the cats, the ordinary vacant lots where their prey usually lives.

Every forest, mercilessly uprooted by bulldozers, so that a human settlement, certainly less beautiful than it, and generally of little or no cultural value, can be installed on the land it once occupied, is a hymn to the glory of the eternal, which disappears to make way for ‘laughter, vile noises, cries of despair’.[1]

More than that: it is a habitat stolen from the noble wild beasts—as well as from the squirrels, birds, reptiles, and other forms of life that always perpetuated themselves there in perfect balance with one another. The action which suppresses it for the benefit of man—that insatiable parasite—is a crime against the Universal Mother, whose respect should be the first duty of a so-called ‘thinking’ living being. And it is almost consoling, for those who think and are not particularly enamoured of the two-legged mammal, to see that the Mother sometimes reacts to this outrage by manifesting herself in her terrible aspect.

A thousand families are installed on the levelled, weeded, asphalted site, torn from the forest. And in the next rainy season, the slaughtered trees are no longer there to hold back the water, and with their powerful roots, the rivers overflow, dragging ten times as many people from the region and all the surrounding areas in their furious rush. The usurper is punished. But this does not teach him anything, alas, for he multiplies at a dizzying rate, technology being there to counteract natural selection and prevent the elimination of the sick and the weak. And it will continue to deforest, to subsist at the expense of other beings.

But it is not only the beasts, the birds of prey, and in general the free-living beasts, that are the victims of man’s indefinite expansion. The number of domesticated animals itself—except for those representatives of those species which man especially breeds to kill and eat them, or to exploit them in some way—is rapidly diminishing. This is because technology has changed the nature of man in highly mechanised countries, and has removed the salutary restraint on human proliferation which, a few decades ago, was still imposed by periodic epidemics.

 

______ 卐 ______

 

Editor’s note: Savitri blames technology, but the problem precedes Big Tech. For example, there is evidence to suggest that humans did cause the mammoth extinction in prehistoric times. And regarding ancient history I have talked a lot on this site about child sacrifice in non-Western cultures, but not about ritual animal sacrifice.

Here we see a jaguar sacrificed by the Maya in pre-European times. Today’s Westerners are such imbeciles that they are no longer capable of doing historical justice to these poor animals; let’s say, by condemning these serial-killer cultures.
 
 
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[1] Leconte de Lisle, ‘Là Forêt Vierge’, (Poèmes Barbares).

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 90

It is again verses of Leconte de Lisle—that nostalgic singer of all the beauties destroyed by the inexorable march of Time—that come back to my memory when I think of ‘this worm weaker than the grasses’ of the ancient Forest, but strong in the omnipotence of its intelligence dedicated to the work of disintegration, the diabolical work (‘in reverse’ of the ideal order). The poet addresses the Forest, which seemed to last forever, and says:

Like a swarm of ants on a journey,
That one crushes and burns, yet still they march,
The floods will bring the king of the last days to you;
The destroyer of woods, the man with the pale face. [1]

Words that are only too true but if the White Man was indeed, until the middle of the 20th century, the ruthless destroyer of the forest as well as of the fauna—the massacrer of forty million bison in North America—, and who emptied North Africa and the former Asia of their lions, and India of most of its tigers and leopards, the Negro’ and the swarthy man of every hue, have, with grim enthusiasm, hastened to follow suit and pursue, with a neophyte’s relentlessness, the war of man against tree and animal.

They put themselves in the service of the White Man not necessarily and not always Aryan, and believed his lies, accepted his money, and assisted him in the work of destruction. They killed for him the elephants whose ivory he traded; hunted or trapped the big cats, whose magnificent skins he wanted. And, imbued with the anthropocentrism newly learned in his schools, and proud to possess at least some of his techniques, they continued the butchery after he had grown weary of it—even after belated remorse or awakening of his sense of self-interest had prompted him to ‘protect’ endangered species from now on.

It is all mankind that is guilty of the usurpation of the soil at the expense of the forest and its ancient inhabitants—all except the few individuals or groups, always in the minority, who have protested against it all their lives, and proved, by everything they have said, written or done that they had taken a stand for the animal and for the tree against man, of whatever race he might be.

At the root of this indefinite usurpation is, without doubt, technology, which is, it must be admitted, the most inferior but an expression nonetheless of Aryan genius. Even in Roman times, when unfortunate wild animals were captured by the hundreds and thousands, to be sent to their deaths in circuses, the massacre of African, Asian (and European) fauna[2] never reached the proportions it was destined to reach in our time thanks to modern methods of hunting, and in particular to firearms.

But technology in all its forms, including this one, has developed only as an advantageous—sometimes the only possible—solution to the problems of survival of increasingly compact masses of men. It is only beyond a certain numerical limit that man, of whatever race, becomes a scourge to all that lives on the land he inhabits—and if he is of one of the inferior races (generally, alas, the most fertile), a dangerous rival to the nobler races: a veritable plague, in every respect.

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[1] Leconte de Lisle, ‘La Forêt Vierge’, (Poèmes Barbares).

[2] And American. It is impossible here not to refer to the slaughter of seals, especially seal pups, so atrocious that many of our contemporaries themselves have been outraged.

Published in: on March 14, 2022 at 12:19 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 90  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 88

You, who are one of us—sons and fathers of the Strong and Beautiful—, look around you without prejudice and passion, and say what you see! From one end of the earth to the other, the strong are retreating before the weak, armed with ingenious malice; the beautiful, before the ungainly, the deformed, the ugly, armed with deception; the healthy, before the sick, armed with recipes for combat taken from the demons with whom they have made a pact. The giants give way to the dwarfs, holders of divine power usurped through sacrilegious research. You see all this more clearly than ever since the disaster of 1945.

But don’t think that this dates from 1945. Certainly not! The collapse of the Third German Reich and the persecution of the Religion of the Strong, which has been raging ever since, are but the consequence of a desperate struggle, as old as the fall of man and the end of the ‘Age of Truth’. They are the recent phases of a gradual and inexorable loss of ground, which has been going on for millennia, and is only more apparent since our fruitless effort to stop it.
 

______ 卐 ______

 

Editor’s note: As I said yesterday in the comments section, Savitri lived at a time when the real history of Christianity was still unknown. Had she known it, she wouldn’t have needed to dip into Hindu mythology to speculate about a purported decadence of many thousands of years old. Occam’s razor is applicable here, and we can point to Christian ethics, even in its secular form, as the inversion of values that in our day has culminated in the West’s darkest hour.

 

______ 卐 ______

 

Consider the trees. Among the Strong, they are the oldest. They are our elder brothers: old kings of Creation. For millions of years, they alone possessed the Earth. And how beautiful was the Earth in the time when, aside from some giant insects and the life born amidst the oceans, it nourished only them!

The Gods know what enthusiasm seized me, on my return to Germany in 1953, at the sight of the resurrected industries of the Ruhr basin! In every cloud of nitrogen peroxide that billowed in fiery volutes from the chimneys of rebuilt factories, I greeted a new and victorious challenge to the infamous Morgenthau plan. And yet… an image haunts and fascinates me: that of the Ruhr basin at the time when the future coal which, along with iron, makes it rich today, existed ‘in potential’ in the form of endless forests of tree ferns.

I think I can see them, these fifty-metre-high ferns, endlessly crowded together, competing in their strength in their push towards the light and the sun. It was night between their innumerable shafts, so thick was the evergreen ceiling of their entangled leaves: a humid night, heavy with the vapours arising from the warm blackish mud in which their roots were immersed; a night that the wind, blowing through the gigantic foliage, filled with a harmonious wailing, or that the torrential rains filled with a din. Everywhere one finds coal mines today such forests then extended.

But there is, for me, an even more nostalgic image. It is that of the forest of many species, populated by colourful birds, reptiles beautifully marked with brown, pale yellow, amber and ebony, and mammals of all kinds—especially felines: the most beautiful of all living creatures—, the forest of the hundreds of millennia before man appeared on our planet, and the forest of the time when man, few in number, was not yet the harmful beast he has become. The domain of trees was then almost everywhere. And it was also the domain of animals. It included the domain of the oldest and most beautiful civilisations. And man, to whom the dream of ‘dominating Nature’ and overturning its balance for his benefit would then have seemed absurd and sacrilegious, found his numerical inferiority normal. In one of his most suggestive poetic evocations of ancient India, Leconte de Lisle has one of his characters say:

I know the narrow, mysterious paths
That lead the river to the nearby mountains.
Large tigers, striped and prowling by the hundred…
[1]

In the hot and humid forests of the Ganges (or Mekong) there were tigers, leopards and elephants. In the north of Asia and Europe, it was aurochs and wolves, by the thousands, by the millions. The first hunters—the first herders, rivals of the four-legged predators—certainly killed some of them, to keep the flesh of the domesticated herds for themselves. But from the boundless forest others emerged. The natural balance between the species had not yet been broken, nor was it to be broken for long. It was not until the forest, or the savannah, definitely retreated before man when ‘civilisation’ encroached on it without interruption.

For centuries, however, man was destined to remain confined to very small areas. In ancient times, in Egypt as well as in Assyria, Mesopotamia, Syria, North Africa and even in Southern Europe, lions were found within a few kilometres of cities. All the accounts of the ancients, from those reported in the Bible to those of the adventures of Androcles (how recent, in comparison!) bear witness to this. Unfortunately, these beasts were hunted, and there is abundant evidence of this in the written and sculpted testimonies. Personally, I have always been outraged when reading the inscription that relates the success of the young Amenhotep III, who supposedly killed ‘one hundred and four’ of these royal beasts in a single hunt. And the famous bas-reliefs in the Oxford Museum, which, with that frightening realism of which Assyrian art has the greatest secret, represent Assurnasirpal and his retinue piercing with arrows a whole army of lions—of which some, their backs broken, twist and seem literally to howl in pain—inspire me to nothing less than a burning hatred of man.

And yet… I must admit that, no more at the dawn of the 14th century than during the 9th before the Christian era, this primate had not yet become, on the scale on which it was soon to be, the scourge of the living world. It hunted, it is true, as did other predators. And it had the arrow which strikes from afar, instead of the honest claw and tooth, which only reach up close. But he didn’t exterminate whole species as it was destined to do later, and like no other beast of prey did.

The forest, the endless savannah, the desert—the space which he couldn’t occupy entirely, and in which he was not even able to make his presence felt in a more or less permanent way—remained the free, if not inviolate, domain of non-human life. No civilisation had yet monopolised for the benefit of ‘man’ all the territory on which it flourished. Egypt itself, whose people were by far the most prolific in antiquity, kept, in addition to its luxuriant palm groves, its fauna of lions, crocodiles and hippopotami. And, what is more, thanks to its theriomorphic representations of the divinity, and especially thanks to the pious love with which it surrounded certain animals—such as the innumerable cats, fed and pampered by the priestesses of the Goddess Bastet[2]—it maintained with this fauna a link of a more subtle and stronger order, comparable to the one that still exists today between the Hindu and the Cow, certain monkeys and certain snakes, among other symbolic animals.

It would have seemed to a superficial observer that, despite the hunting, the sacrifices, and the extensive use of wood in the construction of houses as well as ships, the animal species and the forest species could count on an indefinitely prosperous future.

However, even at that relatively early date, man had become ‘the only mammal whose numbers continue to increase’.[3] In other words, the balance that had been maintained for so long between all living species, including man, had been upset in favour of the latter for several centuries.
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[1] Leconte de Lisle, ‘Çunacépa’ (Poèmes Antiques).

[2] These cats were mummified after their death. Hundreds of thousands of them have been found in the necropolises where they had been deposited.

[3] ‘der einzige Säuger, der sich in ständiger Vermehrung befindet’ (Tier, 11th year, No. 5, page 44. Article ‘Die Uberbevölkerung droht als nahe Weltkatastrophe’).

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 70

As I noted above, the particular restrictions he had been able to impose on himself up to that point, in a spirit of asceticism, became unnecessary. And if he continued to observe some of them; if among other things, he obstinately abstained from alcoholic beverages and tobacco, it was out of natural disposition rather than out of a concern for discipline. And if he also refused to eat any meat, it was because deep down he—the artist and friend of animals—had a deepening disgust with the ugliness and horror of the slaughterhouse and the butchery. That said, he lived from then on as a harmoniously balanced man, mingling, without embarrassment or astonishment, with the most refined society if he deemed it necessary for his work or if, after hours of contact with his rough SA and the people, he found there a source of relaxation.

He enjoyed the company of women and, like Siegfried, the prophet Mohammed, Krishna, the incarnate God, and other illustrious fighters ‘against Time’, he knew love, sporadically at least, it seems, when he had the time! Above all, he lived for all the satisfactions that art in all its forms could give him; art that he placed so high that he didn’t admit that a man who was insensitive to it should ever take over the leadership of a National Socialist state. People who, like the French writer Malraux—who certainly cannot be suspected of any bias toward him!—met him at social gatherings and embassy dinners, admit that he was ‘witty’, even ‘humorous’ and that he ‘knew how to dance’ in the sense of Nietzsche’s definition of the term.

But at the same time, he remained first and foremost a man of his fight. And he seems to have been increasingly aware of the need for those who led this struggle under him and in collaboration with him to have a share in the secret knowledge of more than human origin. Hence his dream of a hierarchical German Empire—and beyond it, a hierarchical world according to the spirit of Tradition: a ‘caste system on a planetary scale’ to use the expression of a Hindu, an intelligent admirer of the German Third Reich.

Hence, too, his efforts to create the Order: ‘a veritable lay priesthood’ as Rauschning wrote, which was to be the guardian of Tradition at the top of the social pyramid of the Great Reich and, after the inevitable collapse, at the top of that of the faithful survivors.

This Order, as I have said, was the Schutzstaffel or ‘Echelons of protection’, commonly referred to by its initials—SS—which the Führer wanted to be both ‘militant’ and ‘triumphant’ in the sense in which these terms are applied to the Church in Catholic theology; that is to say, warlike and concerned above all with the defence and expansion of the Aryan elite’s strongholds in this world, and having attained at least a certain degree of being, separating it from the rest of mankind as the ‘chosen ones’ are separated from the ‘world’, the initiated from the uninitiated, in all traditional societies.

Without the existence of such an Order, the reversal of false values on all planes, including the material plane, was inconceivable.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 55

Chapter IX

The reversal of anthropocentric values

Awaken, shake your chained forces
Let the sap flow in our dry furrows
Make sparkle, under the flowering myrtles
An unexpected sword, as in the Panathenaea

—Leconte de Lisle (‘L’Anathème’, Poèmes Barbares)

Demographic growth is, as I have tried to show above, both a consequence and an ever-renewed cause of the development of techniques: a consequence of the preservation, thanks to the perfection of medicine and surgery, of an ever greater number of people who normally should not be living; and a cause of the efforts of inventive minds to create means of satisfying the needs, real or supposed, of a population that is multiplying, often dispite the absence of protective hygiene, and all the more so if such hygiene is widespread.

It is a vicious circle, and all the more tragic because it can probably only be broken on a global scale. It would be criminal to encourage, among the noblest and most gifted peoples, a decline in birth rate which would expose them, on equal terms (or simply in the fatal peace of a ‘consumer society’ indefinitely extended as technical progress) to give away to human varieties qualitatively inferior to them, but dangerously prolific, and whose demography is out of control.

No one was more aware of this fact than Adolf Hitler, and he gave it a place in his politics that it had never had under any regime, even a racist one, in the past. And it is perhaps in this more than in anything else that the blatant opposition of the Third German Reich to the leading trends of the modern world appears.

These tendencies are expressed in the hundred thousand times repeated precept ‘Live and let live’ applied (and this is to be emphasised) to men of all races as well as of all degrees of physical or mental health or illness, but to man alone. It is the contrary precept that our protectors of the sacrosanct two-legged mammal apply to quadrupeds, cetaceans, reptiles, etc., as well as to the winged gentry and the forest. Here, it is a question of ‘letting live’ at most what doesn’t hinder the indefinite expansion of any variety of man, and even, at the limit, only what favours this expansion. This seems to be the case in Communist China, where only ‘useful’, that is to say exploitable, animals have the ‘right to live’.

The eternal glory of Adolf Hitler—and perhaps the most striking sign that he was, par excellence, the man ‘against Time’: the man of the last chance for recovery, no longer partial but total—is that he transvalued this order of things. It is his glory forever to have, even in a country during the war, ‘let Nature live’: protect as far as possible the forests and their inhabitants; take a clear stand against vivisection; rejecting for himself all meat products and dreaming about gradually abolishing the slaughterhouses ‘after victory’, when he would have had his hands free. [1]

It is his glory that he has, in addition, mocked the misplaced zeal of lovers of ‘pedigree’ dogs, cats or horses, indifferent to the purity of their own offspring. He applied this time to man, in the name of the human elite, the very principle that had, for millennia, regulated man’s behaviour towards the beast and the tree: ‘Let live’ only that what didn’t hinder the flourishing of this elite; ultimately, only what favoured it—or at least he did all that was materially possible in this sense in a world where, despite his power, he still had to reckon with constant opposition.

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[1] Statement by Adolf Hitler to J. Goebbels, 26 April 1942.

Published in: on December 1, 2021 at 2:02 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 55  

Flawed sci-fi genre

On Mondays a ‘market on wheels’ passes near my house that doesn’t exist in the neighboring country to the north: Indians who sell food and other household items to the more bourgeois classes. For the ridiculous price of $15 pesos (0.72 dollars) yesterday I bought this year’s version of Dune.

I still remember when I saw the first film version of Frank Herbert’s novel in 1984 and I thought it was a very bad movie. But the 2021 version is worse as the accelerating trend toward Evil continues in these eschatological times, as Savitri would say. I mean the mania of putting more and more non-white actors on the big screen. The $15 pesos I spent yesterday for a pirated DVD of Dune was a good investment, as I prefer to give that amount to an Indian than to Hollywood dogs (tonight my sister and my nephew will watch Dune on the Imax screen).

Although, with the exception of this darkening of actors, the visual aspect of the 2021 film improves on previous versions, there will never be a good movie because Herbert’s novel is flawed.

When I saw the 1984 film, I was unaware of the existence of psychoclasses. Recently, in one of my comments on Savitri’s book, I said that the Spaniards belonged to a higher psychoclass than the Aztecs, who killed and ate their children. The mistake of Herbert and all fans of science-fiction is that they ignore the existence of psychoclasses. With the exception of the books that I’ve been promoting on this site from the pen of Arthur C. Clarke, the only thing that the authors of the futurist genre do is extrapolate the present of this fallen West to a future where technology has been developed.

But that is not the future.

During the Middle Ages in Europe, the future of the Mesoamerican and Inca world would be the destruction, thanks to the Europeans, of an infanticidal psychoclass, a psychoclass of serial killers (see the central part of my Day of Wrath) through an amalgamation between Indian and Spanish in which, at least, the filicide aspects of the Amerinds were overcome.

That doesn’t mean that I identify myself with the Castilians. I represent a psychoclass superior to theirs inasmuch as I have always been repulsed by bullfighting (as I tell in one of my autobiographical books, my grandmother and my godmother were fans of this sadistic art). In other words, internally I already made another quantum leap from the Spanish psychoclass to a psychoclass that feels infinitely more empathy for animals.

The mistake of Herbert, who once had a personal fight with Clarke, is that he was blind to psychogenic evolution; that is, to the development of empathy (think about how Hitler’s first measure when he came to power was to pass laws to prevent the cruelty to animals). Herbert extrapolates the human psychoclass from our time to the future as if there won’t be any psychogenic breakthroughs. For example, one of the anachronisms of the movie that I saw yesterday is the hobby of the House Atreides (the movie’s good guys), who had representations of bullfighting art in their palace, including the head of a sacrificed bull on a wall.

In fact, it is impossible for the current psychoclass of humans to grow indefinitely because with such advanced technology they would only end up self-destructing (which is why we receive no signs of intelligent life in the Milky Way). Only the Aryan overman, the followers of a new Hitlerite religion, could inherit the stars.

Unlike Herbert’s Dune, in a few of Clarke’s futuristic novels humans stop abusing children and animals. When in 1992 I wrote him a letter, and asked him what was his favourite novel among the many he wrote, the famous British author informed me that it was The Songs of Distant Earth (except for my address that I’ve just deleted, Clarke’s letter can be read: here). The novel has its problems, of course. Clarke was bisexual and this shows in The Songs of Distant Earth. But at least he acknowledges that psychoclasses may evolve in the future.

But I would like to say one more thing about the darkening of the actors in the 2021 version of Dune and Hollywood in general.

Yesterday I saw a segment of Fox News. The axiological lie on which the US is based, a lie that is exterminating the white race in that country, is something that even anchors like Tucker Carlson share. Last night Carlson said: ‘…the funding principle of the United States, to sum up, is the Christian belief that all people, regardless of their skin color, are equal before God’.

Well, they certainly aren’t equal before me.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 35

But then two questions arise: Is technical progress inevitable and indispensable? And can a people retain its soul despite the growing influence of mechanisation?

Mahatma Gandhi would have answered ‘no’ to both. As is well known, he dreamed of an India without factories, where handicraft production would have sufficed for people who, of their own free will, would have reduced their needs to a minimum, and avoided their population growth by practising rigorous continence after the birth of one or two children. Gandhi would also have welcomed the discharge of most doctors. He uncompromisingly rejected any medication resulting from experimental research at the expense of animals of any kind (he considered, as I do, all such research, from vivisection to the odious inoculation of healthy animals with disease, to be criminal). And he regarded Western medicine as a whole as a diabolical enterprise on a vast scale.

But, unlike us, the Mahatma had naive confidence in man—in the Indian no less than in the foreigner, despite all the evidence that this ‘privileged’ being has never ceased to show his weakness and malignancy. He believed him capable of living, as a group, according to a norm which presupposes either an iron will coupled with constant asceticism, or a reassuring absence of reproductive energy, that is to say, an exceptional nature. He also believed that a country could refuse to industrialise without falling prey to technically better-equipped enemies although it seems, alas, that this is also utopian. The recent example of Tibet, invaded and subjugated by Communist China and kept under the rule despite its silent resistance, proves it fairly well.
 

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Editor’s Note: How I wish visitors were by now familiar with Arthur Clarke’s first novella, written in the 1940s, Against the Fall of Night, which I have been mentioning to illustrate the contrast between two cities: bucolic Lys and the technologically advanced Diaspar.

Since I, as Savitri, see most humans as Neanderthals who must be exterminated (as our Cro-Magnon ancestors exterminated Neanderthals in prehistory), * the surviving Aryans must be controlled by a totalitarian State.

Today’s experience shows that Aryans can be even worse than Neanderthals in that they have come to suffer from self-loathing like no other race on earth. Clarke himself wrote a futuristic novel in which whites had already all mixed up, as if that were not wicked. After writing his first novella, this Englishman would betray his race by going to live in India instead of marrying an English rose and procreating.

Not because sidebar nymphs are cute should we think that their existence is guaranteed. A bucolic utopia like Lys’s, a world without Neanderthals, means constant vigilance against falling into the mistakes Aryans fell into in the 20th and 21st centuries.

The only way to do it is through what we call psychogenic emergency: to produce an Aryan not only beautiful in physique but also in soul, in constant communion with the divine Nature of which he or she is a part.

One of the ways to understand what happens is to see glimpses of the future, or rather, of a possible future if Aryans begin to comply with the laws of Nature. What I see from my cave are nymphs in bucolic landscapes like the ones Parrish painted, but apparently few have such precognitive visions.

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(*) Unlike the Nazis who first passed laws to protect animals, the mere fact that humans experiment on animals means that they must be exterminated as morally obsolete creatures.