The Alt Right boomlet may come to an end sooner than any of us expect, as the System moves to cut off our access to the outside world. 

It might begin with Twitter, which has been the scene of successful trolling operations such as #Cuckservative and #NRORevolt. Now, Twitter is moving to ban so-called “hateful speech,” which may “directly attack or threaten people on the basis of race, ethnicity, national origin, sexual orientation, gender, gender identity, religious affiliation, age, disability, or disease.” Twitter claims it supports “freedom of expression and speaking truth to power.” But just as the job of the modern journalist is to track and punish dissent, so will a medium ostensibly designed to promote discussion shut it down. 

The way this will be done is by suspending or banning an account that makes people not “feel safe” or that “harasses, intimidates, or uses fear to silence another user’s voice.” The problems with this are obvious. First, we can take for granted that this protection does not extend to racially aware Whites (or even conservatives in general). Will “anti-racists” be suspended for their attempts to “silence” people? Hardly likely when every other mainstream media story is an attempt to “call out” and punish someone for saying something obviously true.

The second problem is more subtle and insidious. “Threatening” means whatever the weakest person in the room wants it to mean. After all, we live in a world where Zoe Quinn and Anita Sarkessian lectured the United Nations on the supposed problem of “cyberbullying,” even though people (allegedly) sending them mean things on Twitter is the entire basis of their careers. 

When you subsidize something, as many kosher conservative friends say, you get more of it. We live in a world that subsidizes weakness. Not surprisingly, we seem to be inventing new forms of it and professional victimhood is the only growth industry.

It may even be the defining aspect of our civilization. Earlier this Current Year, sociologists Bradley Campbell and Jason Manning claimed the “culture of victimhood” was displacing the rights based “dignity culture” that has defined the liberal order, since it replaced “honor culture.” In an “honor culture,” men avenge slights through the willingness to inflict—and suffer—violence. Most societies have been “honor cultures” historically, and it remains the norm among certain social groups. An honor culture is the Way of the Gang, or the Way of Men. But though it’s attractive in many ways, honor cultures tend to be dominated by self-destructive violence and instability. After all, the largest honor culture of today is the Arab world.

“Dignity culture” is the system where we have inherent “rights.” Francis Fukuyama postulated this kind of society satisfies our desire for recognition, or thymos, and thus constituted the End of History. Rather than private vengeance, we look to the state to solve our disputes and generally pursue our own rational well-being. 

But as the state expands, the demands for official intervention have grown. As racial and cultural diversity undermine trust, potential conflicts increase. More importantly, as it becomes economically more attractive to be a victim than a worker, people create ever more elaborate forms of categorization (dragon kin, etc.) and ever more petty forms of “microaggressions.” As Michael Enoch observers, this is simply the manipulation of language for the purpose of rent-seeking. 

Conservatives, as they so often do, miss the point. Reacting to the recent spectacle of the mostly Black protests on college campuses, conservatives call the students “wimps” or “pussies,” sometimes via crappy memes featuring liberal Hollywood actors. They argue these students and social justice warriors’ lives are easy compared to people around the world. And many complain how in the good old days, 18 year olds would bravely go fight and die to defeat Nazis, instead of demanding protection sexism and racism. 

But they have it backwards. Even an elite soldier who has taken life and faced down death takes orders from these supposed cowards. A man can deadlift 500 pounds, but if he depends on his job to survive, he is ultimately weaker than the transsexual student intern who reports him to the human resources manager. And moral disarmament and the chains of gold around of all us ensure this hierarchy will survive for years to come. 

At the same time, though they take advantage of this hierarchy, leftists pretend they have transcended it. Within their organizations, the best way to secure leadership is to be the most vociferous in denying any leaders actually exist. Tactics from the “progressive stack” to “calling out” newly invented “isms” are just various ways of securing a place in the status system you ostensibly repudiate. And power shifts quickly. In a matter of weeks, Bruce/Caitlyn Jenner went from “stunning and brave” to a problematic and “privileged” oppressor.

We even have degenerate celebrities who attempt to use this trick of appearing as low-class victims. Senator Chuck Schumer’s cousin Amy is fat, unattractive, and constantly talks about how unpleasant she is; therefore, we have to pretend she’s a comedian, entertain her views on gun control, and regard her as some kind of feminist activist. Carrie Fisher’s publicity work for the recent Star Wars movie mostly consisted of her bragging how obese and unattractive she’s become, even though her career (such as it was) was built upon her serving as a sex symbol for geeks. Somehow, this constitutes a blow against the patriarchy and increases her status. 

This has even moved into presidential politics. The media is even trying to shame Donald Trump on the grounds that his supporters have allegedly emailed mean things to people. More broadly, Trump is hated because he is attempting to sell himself as unapologetically successful, powerful male who gets things done. His “kingly appeal,” as Peter Brimelow phrased it in an interview, offends those who prefer the passive-aggressive approach of a Hillary Clinton. Many Americans are comfortable with tyranny, but they will not abide a crown. 

All societies incorporate hypocrisy. Ours is built upon it. Those who enjoy the benefits of an empire more powerful and invasive than any in history protect their status by concealing it in the cloak of victimhood. It appears the indirect approach is more effective when it comes to securing authority over others.

Meanwhile, the Right defends hierarchy as an ideal and an aesthetic even as we are all but powerless. From the young edgelords reading Might is Right to those fashy haircuts, we’ve championed a certain aesthetic, even though revealing our power level to the wrong person will cost us a job. 

One could call this LARPing or even pathetic. Our enemies often do. But I’d simply call it honest. Racially aware whites—and only racially aware Whites—understand the real nature of the System and see that the reality of power hasn’t changed. 

What stops power is power. What we call “liberty” is merely a space where force checks force. Many American conservatives seriously believe that “the Constitution” is what gives them the right to free speech or to own a gun. But whatever the problems with the American Founding, at least the Revolutionary generation understood words on paper meant nothing unless backed by willpower and weapons.

All of us live with the consequences of this hard reality every day. Anyone reading this faces real, concrete consequences for dissent, not just mean words. Violence is used against us. We can’t expect on the protection of law. We can’t count on the sanctity of property or words on a contract. We are subject to open incitement, with people openly fantasizing or even explicitly calling for our death and genocide. Claiming to be a victim brings us further scorn, not pity and money. It’s obvious but important that if they were attacking anyone other than Whites, a “mainstream source” like Salon would be the most extreme “hate site” on the Internet. 

We also know it is the precisely the most privileged groups who try to use the concept of “privilege” as a weapon. Pointing out how Whites generally make more money and are imprisoned less than blacks is taken as proof of “White privilege,” but merely noticing the high income and influential positions of Jews is sufficient to constitute proof of anti-Semitism or “Jew hatred.” 

Peter Brimelow once commented that Americans are already acting like an occupied population. At any moment, we’re all vaguely aware “they” could come for us, but what does that really mean? Though violence isn’t uncommon, usually it’s more subtle. Social shaming is an important aspect, but the Alt Right has grown sufficiently large such that even a person “outed” as a thought criminal will have a social network. The real threat is what Malcolm X (in reference to Jewish tactics) called “the economic weapon,” the threat of job loss, career destruction, and crushing poverty. Look at what happened to Frank Borzellieri. 

Of course, there’s a limit to this. If a sufficient number of people are driven outside the System, they can constitute a counter-system. For propaganda purposes, it’s not a good thing if we are mostly just talking (and, unfortunately, fighting) amongst ourselves. But ultimately, building economic and mutual support networks is the best way to ensure we have a future. 

More importantly, we have something no one else does. We have agency. We act. We create. We build new worlds in the ruin of the old. Every aspect of the current system, from the predatory financiers at the top to the non-White “activists” begging for handouts at the bottom, ultimately depend on White people. 

The great lie of American race relations is that Whites somehow gain or exploit the “Black bodies” among us or depend in some sense on other groups. Who depends on whom? Just as we can judge a society by observing how people “vote with their feet,” we can dismiss the claims of racism by watching how all the groups who claim to be oppressed can’t wait to live among as many racist White people as possible. What vitality and power this system has left is drained with every second it continues. 

And that’s why our approach to power can’t be like that of our enemies. Ultimately, power cannot be sustained on a weak foundation. We aren’t trying to scramble to the top of a collapsing pyramid. We are trying to build something that endures. More importantly, we are trying to build something that provides a meaning and an up-going, not the bitterness and rot characteristic of our so-called “elite.” The command for each one of us always remains constant, however you see your role in the struggle. It’s only two words, after all: Become Stronger. 

This speech was delivered on October 31, 2015, at the NPI conference, Become Who We Are.

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Something is happening.

The fact that we’ve all come this far . . . that we’ve come together from around the world . . . that we’ve left Twitter and gone physical . . . means that something is happening. Or at least something has happened to us.

On one level, coming together means that we are, in fact, “normies,” or at least a lot more “normie” than our critics imagine. We haven’t lost that human desire for communion, companionship, and the sense of being on a team.

But it also means that we’re all a bit mad. We’ve got this splinter in our minds that screams. It screams at us to do those things and say those things that our guardians and authorities tell us are “radical” or, even more tantalizing, “dangerous.” For what is danger to us but a sign that we’re getting close . . . close to that thing around which the world revolves. We’re getting close to what lies behind the invasion of the European homeland by Africans and Arabs . . . this unspoken angst felt by millions of White people, and that informs something as implausible and seemingly comical as a Donald Trump presidential run . . . as well as what lies behind those Iowans supporting Ben Carson, sending off wishes and prayers to the White Guilt tooth fairy: “If only we vote for a Black man, they’ll finally leave us alone. If only we vote for a Black man, they’ll really know that we’re good.”

Something is happening to the world. Something big, if we’re willing to open our eyes and see it.

“Conservatives” have this tendency to focus in on technicalities: they might see, for instance, the current invasion of Europe as a matter of “bad refugee policies” or resulting from the machinations of some bad politician or financier.

And there, of course, are many bad policies and many bad people who are currently in charge of most governments of the world. But even a George Soros-style “gagillionaire” is a flea in comparison to what we’re facing. We live at an historical inflection point as significant as Constantine’s conversion to Christianity.

We live in a time defined by the Total Moral Delegitimization of the White Man. A time when few disagree with the opinion that we, who once dominated the world, are the cancer of mankind. That we have got to go. And that it will be good when we’re gone.

This period could be called The Great Erasure . . . but then that term doesn’t quite catch the irony of what’s happening. For we do not face the kinds of conquests, humiliations, and genocides that we’ve read about in history books. We aren’t being driven from our homelands by force (with a few important exceptions). We don’t face the slaughter of captives, systematic raping of women, and quartering babies so that the defeated line will never live again (even though some very nasty things are taking place).

I actually wish that our challenge were like these “horror shows” of yesteryear. That we all faced the immediate prospect of a firing squad, a knock on the door at 3 AM, or a march off a gangplank. For in such an obvious emergency, even the most debased American might actually rise off his couch, turn off the football game, wipe the Dorito Cheese from his face, grab a gun, and fight.

As homo sapiens (that is, seemingly intelligent primates), we are well endowed for a physical confrontation. We haven’t fully lost that part of us, the little beast inside that will fight to the death to defend ourselves and our people—and that might even have a certain fondness for blood.

But we don’t face the “End of the World” from a comic-book movie or an Alex Jones fever dream. To the contrary, I could very well imagine millions of White people surviving The Great Erasure, living on in the ruins of the postmodern world, living on without identity and without meaning, living on though debt, Snapchat, porno, and Prozac, living on by lapping up humiliation. Put another way, I could well imagine a future that is worse than extinction.

As physical beings, as animals, we’re ready to fight marauders or thieves and criminals. But we are not ready to fight this war we’re in, and specifically we are not ready to fight it on the field on which it takes place.

This war against us will often have physical effects—say, Fergusson protests, a German family being removed from their home to make room for migrants, or the widespread rape of White women in Stockholm, Sweden. But these are ultimately effects. They are the effects of a war that is fought in our minds and souls, a war that is psychological, moral, and spiritual before it is economic, political, and physical.

Conservatives, despite all their talk of “culture,” have been useless in stopping this war. They never really comprehended it. And that’s the problem.

A Letter From a Budapest Jail

I first started writing this essay one year ago, when I had a lot of time on my hands, as I was serving out a weekend stay in an Hungarian prison. A pen and paper were just about all the possessions I was allowed, and I imagined scribbling away at a speech that would soon go by the pompous and ironic title “A Letter From a Budapest Jail.”

In case you haven’t heard this story, a year ago, this organization brought down the ire of the Hungarian government by attempting to host a pan-European, racialist conference in that Central European capital. This quickly became something more dangerous than triggering Social Justice Warriors, which usually only results in making them write “Wow. Just wow” as a Facebook status update.

For our efforts, we were declared a national security threat by Prime Minister Viktor Orbán. My colleague, William Regnery, got booted. I was captured, interrogated, imprisoned, and deported after spending a weekend staring at various examples of prison cuisine, which were all indistinguishable from cat food.

But don’t feel too sorry for me. If I’m to be honest, getting arrested for being too right-wing for the most hated man in Europe was completely bad ass.

But looking back on it now, I see those crazy few days in Budapest as a sort of black comedy, a microcosm of our race’s inability to distinguish Friend and Enemy, and separator the wolves from the sheep.

Moreover, 2014 wasn’t just any year. And my weekend arch-nemesis, Viktor Orban, as you know, isn’t just any European leader.

2014 was, of course, the 100-year anniversary of the First World War. Historians and philosophers can speculate about its causes. We know that it was effectively the year that the then-commanders of our race committed mass suicide, on a scale that was previously unimaginable.

In other words, we hosted a “pan-European” brotherhood conference on the anniversary of that event that seems to forever scream out about our race’s propensity to always be fighting Brothers’ wars, and to always be losing the whole world in the process.

A year on, Viktor Orban has as much right as any man alive to call himself a “Good European.” Indeed, Orban might be the singular “Good European” among existing world leaders. He is the one who has confronted multiculturalism and the refugee crisis as a man ready to defend his people, a not as a “conservative” eager to lower interest rates or bring back school prayer.

So why did Orban throw poor old me in jail?

The simplest solution to this puzzle is that he was kowtowing to PC. A more complicated response would be that people like us are a little too close for Orban’s comfort: we’re a little too edgy and a little too explicit. We make Orban look bad. So why shouldn’t he purge a few “Edgelords”; after all, he’s got a parliamentary majority to manage.

But on another level—and, I think, a deeper and more revealing level—Viktor Orban is all-too-similar to the “Europeans” of Old, the Europeans who who fought each and lost the world.

Orban’s rhetoric has certainly made him a bête noire among the liberal journalists, on the level of Donald Trump. And for that reason, we like him.

But what is really happening? Orban is busy creating “Fortress Hungary.” He’s building fences, which, judging from photos coming Budapest, are about as effective Swiss cheese. Orban has even organized a grand corridor, through which the African and Arab stream can flow freely into the Germanic heartland of Europe.

He’s used water canons on immigrants and sicked the hounds on Americans racialists alike. In other words, Orban expresses, in one man, the limits and contradictions of ethno-nationalism and “conservative” pragmatism—of half-measures, and solving little problems and not big ones.

In case you think I’m being too harsh. I would say, unequivocally, that Orban is playing the only game he knows; he’s playing it to the best abilities; and, from our perspective, he is playing it better than anyone else in power . . . for what that’s worth.

Politics is, after all, the art of the possible. And at this point, Orban’s ethno-nationalism is right on that edge. A politician must reach people where they are, and not where we might wish them to be. The problem here is that where our people are is stumbling towards humiliation and death. And “Fortress Hungary,” under the rosiest of possible scenarios, might one day be little Lilly pad in giant swamp.

Politics is the art of the possible. But today the impossible is necessary. And the art of the impossible is exactly the reason why our movement should exist.

Europe Is Coming Together

But when I say “impossible,” maybe that’s not quite right. For we are not building castles in the clouds or writing symphonies not meant for human ears.

To the contrary, often I feel that history and events—even those of terrible politicians and gagillionaires—are conspiring to make European identity necessary, indeed, conspiring to bring it into the world.

For the past 200 years, Europe has been coming together. It might seem odd to say that in light of the World Wars or even the World Cup. But the geopolitical trajectory of Europe is unambiguous.

The European continent was once a patchwork of competing, interlocking principalities and states. It has come to be defined by imperial blocs: Germany, France, Russia, Britain. And we shouldn’t forget that imperial blocs are what these “nations” really are.

Modern European history can be seen as a history of the formation of the state—from a multitude to a few and maybe soon to one.

Just as important as this political development has been the creation of an Homogenous European Man. He is someone who might call some place home: Wales, Bavaria, Cork. But he is demonstrably European in his character, values, tastes, and outlook.

There’s a cost to that, of course. For the homogenous European man is, in his way, the Last Man Nietzsche spoke of: the businessman or consumer, whose greatest ideal is filling his tummy and cashing a pension check.

But we must look beyond him, or through him, and view what this process is really leading towards.

We must be brave enough to see a silver lining even in the ongoing immigration and demographic catastrophe.

This invasion certainly threatens us on the most basic level of biology. But it contains within itself its own reversal—the potential to heighten and intensify our racial awareness.

For who are we in the eyes of Ahmed or Yourself or Halim? We are not Italians or Hungarians or Poles, or liberals or conservatives or Marxists. Little distinction is made by the invaders between those who applauded as thousands of Syrian invaders enter the Frankfurt airport and those who remained silent.

In our adversaries eyes, we are all White Men, regardless of how we might want to conceive of ourselves.

Years from now, we might look back on this seeming disaster as a blessing. We might look back with a certain gratitude on these invaders. For they—at last—taught us who we really are, and they, at last, taught us how to fight. The invasion didn’t kill us; it made us stronger.

And Europe is coming together in our imagination as well.

2014 was another important anniversary, which went virtually uncelebrated. It was the 25th anniversary of the events of 1989—the fall of the Berlin Wall, which set off the collapse of the Soviet Union.

We Americans (who shouldn’t be trusted with historical consciousness) have a tendency to see this only as a matter of the triumph of “capitalism,” and the misery of socialism.

When I was a child growing up in the 1980s, I had an ideological map of the world in my head. It was defined by an Iron Curtain, with an “Out” and “In.” I was “in” America and “in” freedom and “out” of Communism. I imagined Russians as “in” socialism, but who could escape and get “in” freedom.

Today, of course, we might have very different feelings about the Cold War. Was it not being “in” Communism—that inefficient, failed version of modernity—that, despite itself, allowed traditions to survive? And was it not Americanism—that more pernicious form of mass equality—that rotted our souls?

Regardless, today, we are all “in” the nihilistic spiral of The Great Erasure—and that includes Russia and Fortress Hungary. It’s really only a question of degree.

But our ability to overcome this crisis result precisely because there is no longer any “In” and no longer any “Out.” We are all parts of the sick man of the world. But we are also all parts of race that, despite its wishes, is being forced to take up Great Politics once again. To restart the world, and re-enter history, as struggle between races and civilizations for the future of the planet.

The Meaning of Becoming

Some have asked what I meant by titling this conference Become Who Are. What is “become” anyway and how do we “become” what we already “are.” In mathematics, “Become Who We Are” does not compute. There is no analogue for become; something is or is not.

In getting at what I’m thinking, a good place to start is with our collective feeling—that everyone here has in his guts—that we are not ourselves, that we—who live in the late-stage “lala” land of America and Western Europe—are not who really are.

In this sense, I’ve always been suspicious of people in our movement who unthinkingly define themselves by saying, “We Must Defend the White Race!” For what, exactly, are we defending? Are we defending the White race that invented liberalism? That is now passionately dedicated to its demise? Should we defend the White race that’s built an economy based on processed pink slime, Extra Value meals, and lottery tickets? Sometimes I get the impression that people in our movement want to save America or the system from itself? Why not let it die. And why not become something greater and more beautiful in its stead?

This sense of becoming should be at the heart of our conception of race and Darwinian evolution.

Our enemies have a point when they say that there’s never been a “pure” race, and that what we think of as “White” is really just a chance accumulation of characteristics, brought about by a clash of Angles and Saxons, Aryan invasions, and random outbreeding with Neanderthals.

It’s telling that the word “race” is a synonym for a “run” or a “contest” or a “campaign.” For race is essentially flux—with no beginning and no end. We’re reminded of Heraclitus, who said that a man never stepped into the same river twice, for the river is always flowing, turning, waxing and waning. (But it’s still a river.) In other words, there is Being and Time. There is the type (Who We Are) and there history, experience, and, most important, will (Who We Will Become).

What holds for all of nature, holds ten-fold for the European. For the White Man is a becoming animal, not only due to the nature of race but due to his own nature. We see the world—we see even our selves—as an unfinished project, as a work of art. We see the world as having meaning in that we shape it, transform it, make it is as beautiful, powerful, or terrifying as our imagination.

In turn, that angst that we feel, that splinter in our minds that has brought us here today is the screaming of our will for something higher more beautiful.

And will and imagination have always been more powerful than truth.

The Truth Is Overrated

One of my favorite metaphors in our movement is the “Red Pill” (which, of course, comes from The Matrix, the 1999 classic starring Keanu Reeves.) As Morpheus, the dark god of the Internet underworld, states,

You take the Blue Pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill . . . and I show you how deep the rabbit hold goes.”

We all swallowed the Red Pill whole when we abandoned our illusions about democracy, race, class, women, Jews, religion, America, und so weiter. The scales dropped from our eyes. We pulled ourselves out the incubators of quaint bullshit and stropped drifting through life doing what we’re told.

We should remember, though, what happened when Neo took the Red Pill. He’s wasn’t transported to a bright, shiny world of happy endings and infinite possibilities.

He was taken to the “Desert of the Real”—a land of loneliness, darkness and pain. He lived a monochromatic existence in a steel submarine, eating nothing but cat food—perhaps not too different from a stint in a Hungarian jail.

How many of us have taken the Red Pill—“Truth”—and responded with despair and regret? Or, worse, responded with a kind of extreme cynicism about our bourgeois lives?

How many have learned the truth about race—or sensed it in our bones—but only embraced the attitude that there’s nothing we can do and we might as well watch videos of Black flashmobs on World-Star Hip Hop.

How many have learned the secrets of female nature, but never sought to use these in order to bring White children and families into the world; instead we developed techniques for picking up sluts in bars.

How many have been “Red Pilled” only to respond by Riding the Tiger into oblivion.

Millions of White people around the world are being Red Pilled as I speak, not because of anything we’re doing, really, but because they’re being Red Pilled by life.

They shall know the truth. But truth might not set them free. For the truth never set anyone free.

Indeed, knowing too much truth can be a problem. It can lead us to be like Hamlet—the quintessential modern hero, who could see through everything, who could see the dark side of every decision and every human relationship. Hamlet sees the world disintegrating before his eyes—and as a result he is utterly paralyzed. It is “conscience”—awareness of the dark sides of things—that makes us cowards and conscience that makes us sick.

Political Theology

In turn, it is not truth but forgetfulness and dreams that inspires action.

This is what I mean by “Political Theology.” This notion might strike contemporary ears as a contradiction, or as a kind of heresy; politics and belief are things we like to segregate. The term, of course, comes from Carl Schmitt, who understood that it was myth and belief—not force—that defined real political power—that granted it legitimacy, meaning, and rightness.

We in this room might scoff at all those foundational myths of America, and the whole postmodern world: “self evident” chestnuts like “all men are created equal” and that governments are established to protect “rights.” These things embarrass us.

But it is this mythic realm that secretly lies beneath all political discourse—that informs action, that defines what’s “possible” and what’s not. And it is on that subterranean, mythic level that we must operate.

Collective Salvation

By 2015, we’ve reached the end of something—The Great Erasure, our moral delegitimization and physical dispossession. Millions of European people will be experiencing this catastrophe in millions of different ways.

If our movement is to have any justification, it’s to offer them something more important than just another policy proposal, some way to “Make America Great Again.”

Part of this must be the ideal of the Ethno-state, as Guillaume Faye has spoken of it—from Lisbon to Vladivostok. But more important than utopia is that moral reorientation that must take place first—that new psychic grounding for the politics of the future.

Over the past 2000 years, in what’s known as “the West,” we have lived through the age of individual salvation. With Christianity, it has been the dream of the afterlife, or in liberal ideology, the dream of being an purely autonomous ego, liberated from the past, from duties to ancestors, from familial bonds, and the debt we owe to the future.

Our age—the age that follows The Great Erasure—will be one of collective salvation, of a theology that is both down-to-earth and fixed on eternity. We should dream that can see our ancestors, and the entirety of the past, reflected, infinitely, in the eyes of our child. That we can see the whole story of our race—our divisions and trials and defeats—building to the moment of salvation, in this world and not another.

For we, we, who are cast down. We, who’ve been dispossessed, imprisoned, and overthrown. One day, we will become a people.

I had the opportunity to re-watch the The Lion King recently, and I was astounded at how secretly rightist and traditionalist the film is. (Granted, the mainstream media did complain about this when the film was first released.)

For starters, Disney’s most popular film about Africa doesn’t feature any Black people (unless you count the voices of James Earl Jones and Whoopi Goldberg). Much more important than that is the fact that film depicts a certain longing for a kingly, pre- or un-democratic realm. The audience is encouraged to identify with Simba, a little lion prince before whom the entire animal kingdom is made to bow. As in Star Wars, the common man never dreams about democratic mediocrity, but aristocratic destiny.

And it gets better. Not only is the pride a monarchy, but the lions rule as a kind of brutal Herrenarten (master-species) over the entire savannah. All other animals kneel before their natural superiors. The lions, naturally, hunt down, slaughter, and consume their subjects (though this is never portrayed). But with great power comes social responsibility, and Simba’s father, King Mufasa, explains that the lions must hunt in moderation to preserve the balance of nature. They are part of the “Circle of Life,” with all the world’s creatures being, in a sense, united in their diversity.¹

All is well under Mufasa’s rule—a large, muscular lion incarnating the traditional Aryan virtues. His brother, Scar, as is common in fairy tales, is visibly evil and could even be said to embody anti-Semitic stereotypes. Scar is lanky and dark-furred, if not exactly grotesque. Though apparently related (half-brothers?), the two look and act quite differently. “Well, as far as brains go, I got the lion’s share,” Scar explains. “But, when it comes to brute strength … I’m afraid I’m at the shallow end of the gene pool.”

Mufasa rules through strength and candor, the former enabling the latter. Scar, on the other hand, is both weak and selfish; thus he can only attain power by using his intelligence for deceit. There are indications that he may have acquired his facial scar (and name) during a revolt against authority.

Scar’s Revolution

Scar thus plots to overthrow Mufasa and murder Simba. Specifically, he exploits their virtues (which is arguably the highest evil). Namely, Scar takes advantage of Simba’s courage when he goads the young lion to prove himself by going into dangerous hyena territory (where Simba is almost killed); Simba’s credulity, by persuading him he is responsible for Mufasa’s death; Mufasa’s love, by getting him killed during an attempt to save Simba from harm; and finally Simba’s generosity, when Scar exploits a moment of magnanimity…

Scar achieves each success through lies and deceit, emotional manipulation, and pushiness. This is especially so in what might seem to be the least plausible moment of the film—when Scar convinces Simba, through sheer brazenness, that he is responsible for the death of his father and pushes the guilt-ridden, impressionable young lion to run away. (We could understand the rash actions of Simba as a kind of unconscious analogy to the extreme White guilt so prevalent in our society.)

Having eliminated the pride’s legitimate ruling elites, Scar organizes a political revolution through an alliance with a physically and morally inferior species—the hyenas. The hyenas are uglier, weaker, more stupid, more selfish, and more vicious than the lions. The Scar-Hyena alliance can fairly be compared with Bolshevism and Social Democracy in general: the lessers are cynically rabble-roused and viciously organized to overthrow their betters in the name of handouts, “equality,” and democratic lies, leading to a yet worse tyranny.²

This is all fairly explicit, as Scar brilliantly sings:

It’s clear from your [the hyena’s] vacant expressions
The lights are not all on upstairs […]
I know it sounds sordid
But you’ll be rewarded […]
The future is littered with prizes
And though I’m the main addressee
The point that I must emphasize is
You won’t get a sniff without me!

The nature of Scar’s revolution is also evident from his exchange with the hyenas after he presents his plan to kill Mufasa and Simba:

Female hyena: Great idea! Who needs a king?
Hyenas: No king! No king! La-la-la-la-laa-laa!
Scar: Idiots! There will be a king!
Male hyena: Hey, but you said, uh…
Scar: I will be king! Stick with me, and you’ll never go hungry again!
Hyenas: Yaay! All right! Long live the King!

After Mufasa’s death and Simba’s flight, Scar explicitly justifies his takeover of power in the name of inter-species reconciliation and unity:

Yet, out of the ashes of this tragedy, we shall rise to greet the dawning of a new era … in which lion and hyena come together, in a great and glorious future!

Diversity, Scar implies, is our greatest strength!

This setup however proves immediately disastrous. The cackling hyenas exploit the lionesses, who hunt animals on their behalf. The pridelands’ ecology is overtaxed by the lion-hyena wealth transfer, and soon all is turned black and desolate; indeed, all life disappears due to this parasitic relationship. The state of the realm reflects the King’s black heart and flouting of Nature’s law:

One law for the lion and ox is oppression.

Simba’s Awakening

Meanwhile, Simba runs away into the wild, meeting the meerkat-warthog duo, Timon and Pumbaa. The two introduce the princeling to fecklessness, individualism, and abandonment of family. This is summed up in the famous song “Hakuna Matata,” by which Timon and Pumbaa convert Simba:

Hakuna Matata!
What a wonderful phrase
Hakuna Matata!
Ain’t no passing craze
It means no worries
For the rest of your days
It’s our problem-free
Philosophy!

Simba grows to adulthood in this undignified bachelorhood, living on a diet of insects; he forgets his pride. As Pumbaa explains: “Home is where your rump rests.” Yet Simba is unfulfilled. One night, the three look up to the stars and speak:

Simba: Well, somebody [Mufasa] once told me that the great kings of the past are up there, watching over us.
Pumbaa: Really?
Timon: You mean a bunch of royal dead guys are watching us? [Laughs] Who told you something like that? What mook made that up?
Simba: Yeah. Pretty dumb, huh?
Timon: Aw, you’re killing me, Simba.

Is this not a perfect metaphor for the Sixties? Simba, who had been taught that his life had a meaning as part of a chain of family links reflected even in the heavens, finds his father, ancestors, and faith mocked and discredited. He walks off to descend into nihilism and depression.

Simba is found, however, first by his childhood sweetheart, Nala, and then by the baboon mystic Rafiki. Rafiki takes Simba before a vision of his father:

Mufasa: Simba …
Simba: Father?
Mufasa: Simba, you have forgotten me.
Simba: No. How could I?
Mufasa: You have forgotten who you are, and so have forgotten me. Look inside yourself, Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life.
Simba: How can I go back? I’m not who I used to be.
Mufasa: Remember who you are. You are my son, and the one true king.

Simba thus rediscovers his forgotten roots, his identity, his place in the cosmic order; relearning these, he knows what he must do, what his destiny is. This was not magic. Mufasa was not resurrected. Rather, Rafiki explains, “He lives in you.” Our forefathers live on in us, in the flame of memory we maintain, and in our blood. A man’s descendants are but refracted, endlessly reshuffled reflections of himself. Simba’s awakening is painful, but as Rafiki explains, fecklessness is no solution: “Oh yes, the past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or … learn from it.”

Having rediscovered his identity, Simba embraces his duty. Then it is a short matter of returning to the pridelands and overthrowing Scar through manly force, although the evil king does try one last time to manipulate Simba emotionally into incriminating himself for Mufasa’s death. In the end, Scar falls among the hyenas … where he is brutally devoured alive as kind of immanent justice.³

Politically Incorrect Pop Culture

The Lion King is, thus, a racial, identitarian Bildungsroman and political parable, and, in its way, a deeply anti-democratic and anti-leftist one. On another level, many of the themes could be understood as spiritual and ecological.

This raises the question: How was such a politically incorrect film like The Lion King ever produced? Why did it—does it—resonate with the public?⁴

I doubt the film executives Jeffrey Katzenberg, Peter Schneider, or even Roy Disney, consciously set out to make a film about racial identity and national duty.

That said, children’s films are quite often fairly wholesome (with some obvious exceptions and The Lion King’s key issue—of a youth looking for independence and then being reconciled to responsibility—is a common and healthy one. But then, The Lion King goes beyond this.

Firstly, there is the subject matter of Nature itself—with both its hierarchical “balance” ever-present and the struggle for survival—is completely at odds with liberal political correctness. Darwinian realities are incompatible with bourgeois niceties and “Blank-Slate-ism.” That said, most likely the writers did not think too much on this subject, with all politically incorrect themes safely quarantined in a fantastical tale about talking lions.

Secondly, producers of popular culture necessarily make films that, if they are to be successful, resonate with their time and with the deeper soul of their viewers.⁵ And, despite mass media and ideological brainwashing, every viewer will experience some politically incorrect realities in the world and his soul will be defined more by genetic characteristics molded by millions of years of evolutionary history than Marxist professors. This explains the traditional gender norms in the extremely popular Twilight trilogy and the aristocratic ethos of epic fantasy and science fiction films such as The Lord of the Rings. The soul and dreams of man are anything but democratic (even if, for opportunistic reasons, a majority may be flattered into embracing egalitarianism).

I can only speculate that The Lion King’s themes were informed by and resonated with the fears and hopes of the American public of the early 1990s. The world had just come out of the half-century-long Cold War and from under the specter of Communism and totalitarianism. Both of these forces had sprung from Bolshevism, a political phenomenon that has many parallels with Scar’s revolution.

No doubt, too, the film had parallels with the 20th century history of the United States, where a traditional WASP elite, basically favorable to White America, was replaced by a hostile elite bent on “multiculturalism.” The film was released during the Clinton years, those heady days of “the End of History” having effectively solved all our political questions: there is no higher form than a consumerist social democracy, we were told—“Hakuna Matata!” And the United States was explicitly being put on the path to becoming a “minority-majority” land, as expounded by the president himself. Many White Americans, as continuous Hispanic settlement in particular became an accepted part of national life⁶, could sense that their nation and culture were slipping away from them,⁷ and that their wealth and commonweal was being siphoned off to an ungrateful emerging “new majority.”

Simba’s tale then has much relevance to our situation. Let us listen again to Mufasa, notwithstanding the kitsch:

You have forgotten who you are, and so have forgotten me. Look inside yourself… . You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life.

Across the Western world, egged on by hostile or feckless elites, the Baby Boomers sang “hakuna matata” without a thought for the long-term consequences of such selfishness and narcissism. Only now, thanks to experience, the passing of generations, and the freedom of the Internet, we are beginning to rediscover our identity … and our duty

Demons are real. Whether you believe in the supernatural or look for a scientific explanation, there’s a reason we are uncomfortable at night . . . why we sometimes wonder about that person we thought we saw out of the corner of our eyes.

Objectively, we know it’s just our imagination. Our brains are hardwired to see a threat even when none exists. But it’s hard to tell yourself that when your car breaks down on that dark road . . . when a loud noise awakens you in your bed . . . when that scratching at the window goes on a bit too long.

If the transition from the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step, as Napoleon said, the same is true of the transition from bliss to horror. The most heartwarming sound in the world can be a child’s laughter—unless you’re alone in a cornfield or something. Something once thought comforting in childhood can quickly become terrifying. And it’s not uncommon to suspect children are seeing things we no longer can.

Six-year-old Logan Tipton was terrified of the dark. He was only able to go to sleep when his mother would sing him the Christmas hymn “Silent Night.” After that, we are told, he would fall right asleep. The song is a musical form of a vigil, humanity and the angels gazing in quiet and joyful awe upon the Christ Child, who will be the pivot of all human history. But you can imagine how in a different context, it’s an ominous song. It can even be chilling, something exploited by schlock films like Silent Night, Deadly Night and the like.

There’s no way to know, and to ask his mother the question would be obscene, but my guess is the song’s lyrics were the last words Tipton ever heard. Ronald Exantus, a Black man from the increasingly Black city of Indianapolis, drove to a different state to break into Tipton’s house. He took a kitchen knife, crept upstairs, and stabbed the boy in the head several times as he slept.  He also injured some of Tipton’s siblings and the boy’s father, who was hurt after he rushed into the room and presumably saw the murder of his son.

The obvious question is why Exantus picked this house or if he even knew who was inside. It seems impossible. Presumably we will find out during the trial, as, incredibly, Exantus was not killed on the spot.

I am tortured by the thought Logan Tipton somehow sensed, perhaps always, that the boogeyman was real, that some unexplainable evil lurked in the dark, and this night it came for him. In prior ages, Exantus would undoubtedly have been called possessed. Today, we are told Exantus is “mentally ill.” Perhaps so, but considering he was apparently a nurse before this crime, the more scientific term is hardly comforting.

The trauma to his family is too horrible to contemplate, but they must take care it not take on a racial dimension. After all, in the eyes of one American judge, even a three-year-old’s residual fear of Blacks following a violent attack is proof of racism and worthy of punishment. In modern America, the murder of a six-year-old boy as he slept is of no wider social significance. The community will mourn, people will shake their heads, and we will go about our business. But there will be no protests, no changes, no outrage. It’s just one of those things.

Another one of those things happened in Exantus’s Indianapolis about a week before Christmas. David Bowman went to college on a soccer scholarship. After that, he ended up working two jobs, at a FedEx Distribution Center at night and as a barber during the day. He went to one of those places most White people are beginning to understand You Just Can’t Go To anymore, a certain gas station. He wanted to cash two winning lottery tickets and collect a modest sum, but dropped the money on the way out. This provided the opportunity for a Black “youth,” 17-year-old Cameron Tibbs, to allegedly shoot him and steal the cash.

Mourning his son, his father, William Bowman, says he is desperate for Indianapolis to bring back that “sense of community” that has vanished and to “stop the violence.” “No one should have to go through what we are going through right now,” he said. To put yourself in this man’s place at this time of this year would be to taste the torments of the damned. But of course, we know what’s driving the sudden spike in violence in Indianapolis. We know what’s destroying real community. And another non-profit vaguely dedicated to doing good is not going to fix it.

The city known as the Crossroads of America suffered another one of those “random” tragedies when a pastor’s wife was also recently murdered. Amanda Blackburn, the pregnant wife of Davey Blackburn, was shot in the head when her husband stepped out to go to the gym. He returned home and supposedly was on the phone for a considerable length of time in the driveway, presumably talking church business. He didn’t know his wife was bleeding to death inside.

And from the moment you saw the headline, you knew what you were going to read. The pregnant mother murdered while her infant son cowered in his room . . . the lurid speculation about rape and sexual assault . . . the dead eyes of the bestial suspects staring out from the mug shots, captured because of their cavalier stupidity in leaving behind clues like a package of Swisher Sweets. But we also know how this story ends.

“I am deciding to love, not hate,” said Davey Blackburn. The pastor of Resonance Church told the press, “What Jesus has been showing us in the process of all of this is that . . . Jesus Christ takes what the world says is a tragedy, what the world says is trash, and in time he makes it beautiful.”

Apparently, his wife’s murder was not really a tragedy. Indeed, someday it will be thought of as beautiful.

When thinking of Amanda Blackburn’s final moments, such gooey pabulum, even when cloaked in plebeian spiritualism, is obscene. We can only speculate in her last seconds whether Amanda Blackburn cried out to be spared or begged for the life of her son. If so, that latter prayer was at least answered, as it is some small mercy that one-year-old Wesley Blackburn survived the horror. I wonder if he will share his father’s opinion about the murder of his mother when he is old enough to understand what happened.

According to the testimony contained in an affidavit, Larry Taylor shot Amanda Blackburn in the back of the head and then leered into her face as her life’s blood poured out. Assuming she was still conscious, Taylor’s grinning face was the last sight of this Christian’s life.

Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?

Of course, according to his faith, Blackburn does have some kind of justification for his infuriating optimism. “I love the fact that now she’s in heaven with Jesus, she sees that end result, because she was always the one that could see the end result . . . in people, before anyone else could,” Blackburn said.

And as much as we can interpret or deconstruct Blackburn’s belief, there can be little doubt that it is very real in his mind. We can at least intellectually understand why Pastor Davey sees (or can conjure up for himself) a larger purpose in the death of his wife and unborn child. I don’t begrudge the comfort it gives him. And we can guess he expects vengeance in the hereafter, if those who destroyed his family do not repent.

What’s less intelligible is the response of the mostly secular European Left after the terrorist attacks in Paris. There were the cheap signaling Facebook statuses . . . the “how does this still happen in the current year” tweets . . . the candles and the guy playing John Lennon’s “Imagine.” We’ve come to expect that.

But there was also Antoine Leiris, a journalist who took the opportunity to tell ISIS he would not give them the “gift” of hate because that is “what you were hoping for.”

Leiris continued: “Responding to hatred with anger would be to fall to the same ignorance that made you the people you are. You want me to be scared, to distrust my fellow citizens, and to sacrifice my liberty for security.” He concludes by boasting that his son, now without his mother, will not hate them either.

Leiris speaks vaguely of a “heaven of free souls” ISIS will never enter. Thus, we still get the happy ending, the tragedy that’s not really a tragedy. Heaven is an Open Society in the sky, I guess. More importantly, this is the kind of logic we see deployed against Donald Trump, whom Hillary Clinton has called “ISIS’s best recruiter.” What ISIS really wants us to do, apparently, is to stop letting Muslims into the West. To “hate” an enemy is to give in to what the enemy wants.

We are carefully instructed to avoid making the “Friend/Enemy” distinction when it comes to violence in the name of the Prophet. We aren’t allowed to notice patterns when it comes to who is committing these “random” murders in what used to be civilized American cities. If it’s a Black guy, it’s a “random” attack. If it’s a Muslim, it’s a response to anti-Muslim prejudice. And just as the killers apparently had no agency, so are the victims not martyrs or even really victims. They are simply people who had something bad happen to them, like those lost to a tornado or tidal wave.

Life can, most certainly, be random and cruel. But there was nothing “random” about the deaths of Logan Tipton, David Bowman, Amanda Blackburn, or the victims in Paris. Their deaths were the inevitable result of decades of policies that either ignored the importance of race or sought to redeem a “racist” White culture by deliberately importing non-White races.

America used to do things like fund space travel. Now technologies and resources of the last remaining “superpower” are used for the social uplift of Ronald Exantus, Cameron Tibbs, Larry Taylor, and their ilk.

Those who die as a result of these policies are dehumanized in death. Perhaps those who mourn them truly believe this all happened for a good reason; perhaps not. But underlying these sentiments is fear. Part of this fear is practical.

Yet there is also something else . . . a more primordial terror that, contra Christian Lander, maybe there is such a thing as an unhappy ending for White people. All people don’t want the same thing. Violence, struggle, identity, and death aren’t going to go away just because the TV tells us they will. And you can come up with whatever beliefs about the afterlife or the divine you want, but your simple belief won’t do much to change the temporal reality of the here and now.

It’s a scary thought. Better to believe your loved one’s death was “random” or that there’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. Better to believe that fighting would only cause more problems.

Of course, this logic does not apply to criminals or terrorists who are not part of the Coalition of the Oppressed. There will never be a college professor sympathetically trying to understand the “root causes” of Bob Matthews and The Order. No journalist will caution us that “one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter” when speaking of Timothy McVeigh. And there won’t be a “security expert” appearing on MSNBC to tell us that the absolute worst thing we could do after Dylann Roof is to take down Confederate flags, because then it looks like we are declaring war on all White Southerners.

We’re allowed to destroy them. If it’s a White guy, the only root cause is “hate.” And we have nothing to “hate” except “hate” itself.

While even an imagined insult to non-Whites is cause for sweeping crusades, actual White victims are of nothing more than temporary, local significance. As those White victims pile up, as the stories become sickeningly familiar, even the most gut-wrenching tragedies become banal after concepts like anger or vengeance are banished.

Like modern Christmas, mourning the victims of these crimes has become almost commercialized, a parody of a meaningful ritual. The sad emoticons, the #prayers, the protective stupidity about how this could have happened. It all seems so terribly cheap. We deliberately choose to remain ignorant about what is happening, even when the truth is right in front of us.

For the Last Man, as for our most primitive ancestors, the threat to our families and children is a mystery rather than something intelligible or preventable. It’s the demon in the dark, the malevolent spirit in the woods, the unexplained noise in the night. It could get you at any moment. There’s nothing you can do.

And so he remains silent, hoping that it will pass him by this time. Sure, he could go out and look for it, even vanquish it. But maybe it’s just safer to stay inside and be really quiet. If he don’t look at it, he can pretend it doesn’t exist.

Besides even if something horrible happens, he can always shut his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, when he wakes up, everything will be ok.

Ant-Man and the Logic of Jewish Triumphalism

Over the past eight years, the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has distinguished itself as the quirky, light-hearted cousin to rival DC, whose identity has been shaped by Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy.

Nolan—and his heir at DC, Zach Snyder, the director of 300, Watchmen, and Man of Steel—produce comic book movies that are epic, serious, and “dark and gritty.” They depict, at least ostensibly, how a super hero might exist in the contemporary world, with a heavy emphasis on his suffering, loss, guilt, and despair, even when the subject is the usually invincible and bright-eyed Clark Kent.

Marvel, on the other hand, has embraced the ridiculous, campy, and outlandish qualities of the genre, to the point of putting a talking raccoon in space. Whereas Nolan cruelly shows the breaking of Batman’s back and his climb out of a prison pit, Marvel’s movies are beloved for wisecracks and self-aware winks to the audience. Blood, brutality, and death are, for the most part, minimized or kept off screen.

The MCU is also, like its earlier comic precedent, an unrelentingly complicated project. It involves dozens of interconnected storylines unfolding across dozens of films and television shows, all leading, apparently, to a climatic space battle for the Infinity Gauntlet. In other words, Marvel movies are meant to be read and interpreted, however frivolous they might appear.

In light of this, Ant-Man (2015) could claim the title of the ultimate MCU flick.

First and foremost, it never takes itself seriously and is successful as a comedic caper romp. That said, it would be great folly to assume Ant-Man contains less meaning than the ostensibly more contemplative, noirish Nolan and Snyder works. Perhaps, the opposite is true. For Ant-Man’s seeming innocuousness aids its esotericism. And its accessibility, especially to younger audiences, makes it a more formidable experience. The clay of the golem, as it were, is perceived earlier, before it hardens.^[1]

Ant-Man, especially its 2015 filmic incarnation, is a work of esoteric messages, messages that become quite pronounced for those with eyes and ears to see and hear them.

These messages in Ant-Man are quite similar to those woven into Stan Lee’s much more heralded X-Men series. Regarding the X-men, I argued that Jewish themes and symbolism in the comic book pantheons would likely weaken as they abided longer in the culture, and more assimilated and less ethnically-aware Jews and non-Jews adapted the stories. This will almost certainly prove the case generally, with Nolan’s Batman series as the preeminent example of the “Gentile-ization” of a Jewish genre. What is disarming about the 2015 film Ant-Man is that it appears that the elements of this original symbolism—the Jew-as-superhero metaphor, most importantly—have been refined, sharpened, and amplified, rather than diluted.

In his earliest incarnations, the Ant-Man developed rather whimsically and was “half-baked” in comparison to, say, Professor X and Magneto. In light of the 2015 film, these incarnations of the comic seem like “drafts” of the Ant-Man myth.

We must assume that this deeper refinement in the 2015 film is largely the consequence of the wizened Stan Lee’s prestigious and abiding mentorship. Lee (born Stanley Martin Lieber in 1922) is the former Marvel Comics president and chairman, who bears a great deal of responsibility for Marvel’s success in the 1960s, with all of its off-beat, relatable superheroes: the Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, the Hulk, Thor, Iron Man, and more.

Lee famously appears in a comical cameo role in every MCU movie. These are ostensibly friendly nods to the avuncular, old man of Marvel. On a deeper level, Lee reappears as the MCU’s super-ego—implicitly, almost invisibly informing everything that happens on screen.

The key creators of Ant-Man (writers, production designers, and director) are largely non-Jewish, and they are certainly not representative of “visionary” artists. With Ant-Man—as with the Marvel Cinematic Universe as a whole—we find the Hollywood tradition of “film by committee,” where four to five persons will have worked on a single screenplay. Directors are attached and then removed, as the production company, studio, and producer struggle to get the right fit. It is a process that puts creative control in the hands of the producers and the studio, and not the director. And Stan Lee was the Executive Producer.

In the end, writers and directors become, like actors, mere paints upon the palette. Such a process tends to homogenize movies, yielding indistinct, commercial goods, which pander to the widest audience. It is a mistake, however, to believe that such a process can only result in a shallow, meaningless work, especially when it is guided by the vision of Stan Lee, who created these stories in their original form. Indeed, there is a unified vision behind Ant-Man, and we are right to assume it is none other than that of the old master.

In this line, “bubble gum” directors like Peyton Reed (whose previous works include Bring It On, The Break-Up, and Yes Man) seem perfectly suited to Lee’s purposes. And for this “collaboration,” we should be grateful, for the ethnically-minded Stan Lee is allowed to refine his creations through the instrumentality of unwitting and obsequious Gentiles, and thus offer further insight into the mind of an ethnically-minded Jew. Indeed, through Lee’s achievement of orchestration, we glimpse the impressive “mind power” controls of a Professor X … or an Ant-Man!

Lee becomes the Rabbi, who activates the Golem, or simply the self-confident, “pushy” Jew, who takes his superiority for granted and thereby subliminally persuades others of it, allowing him to assume leadership. Such a man is not so insecure that he would not let others take credit, particularly if a deference of credit aids him in his goal. (Any nobility will require this confidence and Machiavellian craft.)

And another layer of subterfuge can be added to the esotericism: “This film was made by Gentiles!” But in the end, a film is not just about execution; it is the big ideas and messages that count.

A Man of the Cross

In unlocking Ant-Man, perhaps the best place to start is with the villainous figure of Darren Cross (Corey Stoll). Cross is the present-day CEO of Pym Tech, a company founded by Hank Pym (Michael Douglas), who was the original Ant-Man, and the developer of the Pym Particle, a technology that permits miniaturization through the shrinking of the distances between molecules. Cross, who was Pym’s erstwhile protégé, and Hope van Dyne, Pym’s estranged daughter, have forced Pym out of his own company.

As the original Ant-Man, Pym’s heroics went, naturally, undedicated. But during the Cold War, a myth arose of a miniature warrior who fought the Soviets. Most dismissed this as propaganda; Darren Cross, however, always believed that the Ant-Man was real, and that his former mentor had cracked the problem of miniaturization. He is intent on replicating these powers, so that they could be produced on a vast scale and sold to interested parties. Hank Pym, who desperately wants to conceal the Pym Particle, is horrified by this effort.

In one sense, Cross is a familiar Hollywood stock villain. He’s an Adorno caricature—the “authoritarian personality”—who seems to represent a sort of Jewish nightmare, or something worse. Cross is a Gentile, who is an independently wealthy, power-seeking Captain of Industry, akin to Henry Ford or even Donald Trump. It is exactly because of men like Cross, personalities seemingly autonomous from the control of the Jews, that most Jews tend to be, at least outwardly, highly critical of capitalism—for capitalism contains the possibility of funding “fascism.” (This is the true reason why self-conscious Jews tend to object to Ayn Rand.) And lo and behold, in the film, Cross will eventually attempt to sell the shrinking technology to HYDRA, a terrorist group that is Nazi to its core.^[2]

And yet, even deeper suggestions seem to arise regarding Cross, as they do in the X-Men cycle, in the form of cryptonyms.

The name “Cross” lends itself to villainy, as it suggests a stern attitude or even betrayal (as in “double-cross”). But “Cross” is also a reference to Jesus Christ and the Christian church. And to the extent that Darren Cross is understood as a Christian figure—if not an embodiment of Christendom, or even the embodiment of Christ—he is also understood, racially, as a White European Christian. That Cross (or European Christendom) will eventually turn Nazi is not a message that should be lost on us. Indeed, this is the other half of the Jewish nightmare: authoritarian, European Christians, with their “uptight” and rigid sense of morality, especially sexual morality, are nascent Nazis simply awaiting their opportunity. Thus, in the figure of Cross, both the capitalistic and Christian Gentile is demonized.^[3]

Hank Pym, Founding God

Assuming our speculation is correct—that Cross represents a Christian figure and Cross Tech, the institution of Christianity—we come naturally to understand our hero as Jewish. This is, indeed, a tiny leap, as Ant-Man’s Jewish creators, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, along with other early Jewish comic-book creators (Superman’s Jerry Siegel most saliently), have long pedigrees of creating characters who are consciously designed as crypto-Jews, as well as villains that can be understood as avatars of anti-Semites.

In this vein, it is likely the name “Pym” is both a cryptonym and a charactonym, pointing both to Hank Pym’s Jewish origin as well as his ability to shrink. The Hebrew word “Pim,” also described as a Pim Weight, is an ancient monetary unit mentioned in the Bible (the first “Pym Particle,” if you will). A Pim is a small polished stone two-thirds the value of a Shekel. As corroboration that the name Pym is such a reference, we see another likely charactonym in the surname of Pym’s wife and sidekick, Janet van Dyne, who was also equipped with shrinking powers and came to be known as “The Wasp.” Dyne is a scientific word that describes a small unit of force.

In Pym’s successor as the Ant-Man, Scott Lang, we find an ironic charactonym akin to Robin Hood’s “Little John.” The surname “Lang” means “tall.” Though “Lang” is German, it is a name that has appeared historically among Ashkenazi Jews. We see again Lee’s tendency to invest all names with meaning (and “Lang” will bear more fruit as we delve deeper into the Ant-Man mythos).

If Pym is, indeed, a reference to the Pim Weight, and thus to Pym’s ethnicity and shrinking power, it is quite an obscure reference, especially in a pre-Internet age. It is a word that was, at the time, only recognizable to certain academics or, alternatively, religious Jews. Now that’s esotericism!

In the 2015 film, the casting of the comedic “Jewish-presenting” Paul Rudd as Scott Lang and the half-Jewish Michael Douglas as Pym is certainly not coincidental. Jewish audiences are far more likely to know the ethnicity of these two actors than non-Jewish audiences. Hence, by this simple method, an esoteric message is reinforced.

Corey Stoll, who plays Darren Cross, is also Jewish (though this is much less well known). Nevertheless, Stoll’s presentation in the film—as a masculine, authoritarian, and open power-seeker—is quickly sensed by Jewish audiences. In the film, Rudd is the benevolent, witty Jewish type; Stoll is the uptight, zealous, arrogant Gentile. (As delved in below, Douglas’s casting is more complex.)

Cross’s desire to replicate the Ant-Man technology is symbolic of Christianity’s “appropriation” of Judaism (Cross Technologies replaces Pym Technologies). This message was likely always intended by Lee. Indeed, Cross’s desire to mass-produce the technology is also of interest to us. To wit, Cross Tech is expanding Pym’s formerly exclusive powers to the masses, much in the manner that Christianity universalized the cult of Judaism.

It is important to mention that in Ant-Man, this effort to distribute the Pym power is understood as unequivocally evil—and as highly disruptive to the world the Marvel superheroes are tasked with protecting. Notable here, too, is the fact Pym had been driven out of the company after Cross assumed control. Metaphorically, Christianity “reformed” Judaism, with the cost of expelling and ostracizing Jews. Or as Cross describes it to Pym: “That’s why you are the past, and I am the future.”

By denying the existence of Ant-Man, Pym is metaphorically denying or diminishing Jewish power (e.g., the existence of a Jewish media ownership, the Israel Lobby, etc.), as is almost uniformly done by Jews out of an instinct of self-protection.

The scene also seems to contain a likely intentional insight into Jewish “atheism.” When Cross insists that Pym reveal whether or not the Ant-Man was real, Pym, seeking to discourage Cross in his quest to replicate the power of ministration, insists that the Ant-Man is “just a tall tale.” Of course, in the world of the film, the Ant-Man, Pym’s secret identity, represent the founding Jewish God, as well as the great tribal power that is derived from it. Indeed, in the Jewish concept of God, at least, esoterically, the Jewish people collectively are God.

Moreover, Jews have long understood that the Gentile appropriation of the Jewish God through Christianity has resulted in the formation of a rival, competitive tribalism, akin, in many ways, though not all, to Judaism itself, as Christians strive clumsily and unconsciously to become the “true Jews.”

Hence, as a protective measure against Christians, and to encourage their weakening and disappearance, Jews have developed an instinct to "deny God.” After all, they, before all people, intuit their “God” as a weapon of ethnic and racial domination (or survival, as they would likely see it). Hence Jewish “atheism” is, ultimately, exoteric, as much as their God is, by definition, esoteric, and intended only for Jews. Indeed, a Jew “believes” in God by acting in a manner that benefits his people (as mentioned, “God” is Jewish Tribalism). On the other hand, by denying God to a Christian, who requires the Rewarding God in the afterlife to motivate his prosperity and continuance, he is, as is described in the Jewish Myth, removing the word of God from the golem and thereby deactivating it.

Pym Particles

So what are Cross and Pym really fighting over? As mentioned, the cryptonym Pym (or Pim unit) hints at the monetary character of Jews and Jewish power. Indeed, the Pym Particle can be understood as a metaphor for the “power of the purse,” something akin to the Ring of Nibelungs (i.e., one of those multiplying, power-and-wealth-giving rings of Norse myth). The struggle in Ant-Man is between Christianity, seeking to discover the Pym Particle (or the power of the purse), and Pym, seeking to deny him this power.

Here, a Jew might see more clearly what really occurred in the division between Christianity and Judaism than a devout Christian—a competition for resources. (After all, there is no survival and existence without resources.) The capitalistic Jew with “coined-stained” hands is ostracized and ghettoized by the hypocritical, tithe-demanding Christian Church, which comes to declare money itself (Pims) as evil, at least exoterically. But this resource competition can be seen anywhere that the Jew or Christian has sought to exclude or marginalized the other, whether it be from society, education, trade, property, or positions of influence, and whether it be through open, honest policies or through hidden, mafia-like ethnic networking.

Let us consider what the Pym Particle allows—miniaturization and infiltration—which becomes, in this context, the power of Jewish crypsis. Indeed, in the film, Lang will use the miniaturization power to infiltrate Cross’s corporation (Christendom) and bring it down from within.

In accordance with Jewish sentiment, the WASP elite of America would have almost certainly preferred to have excluded these Jewish parvenus from influential positions in society, had economic opportunities not come attached to them. And certainly this money allowed Jews to “miniaturize” their “true superhero identities” (as Jews) and, to some extent, assume the trappings and appearance of WASPs.

Indeed, let us consider Pym himself, especially as he is depicted in the 2015 version of the story, which, again, must be understood as the most definitive hitherto. To the extent Pym is considered a Jew by his original creators, which is almost 100 percent certain, Pym is an old-school, crypto-Jew who has assumed the outer appearance of a WASP. This is indicated especially in Pym’s attire and home, which are replete with all the trappings of WASPdom: hard-wood library, stained-glass windows, and a tweedy wardrobe.

Indeed, Michael Douglas, while known well as being of partial Jewish heritage, is a sort of the definitive “WASP-presenting” Jew, typically playing characters that are assumed to be WASPs, such as in his memorable portrayals in Romancing the Stone, Wall Street, The Game, and more. Indeed, in the case of the superhero Ant-Man, so deep will his crypsis become that he will even eventually take the female superhero “The Wasp” as a wife. (We presume her to be, as she is named, a WASP, but will parse this more carefully below.)

If only in a Jungian sense, it should be of interest to us that Cross is also intent on acquiring the power of miniaturization (or Crypsis). Let us ponder the profundity of this metaphor—perhaps intended, perhaps not—for a moment. For after all, isn’t Christianity itself the imitation of a type of Jewish crypsis?

Consider that Christianity is, ostensibly, a creed of anti-power: meekness and selflessness are venerated as the highest virtues. Yet Christianity is itself a “will to power.” For instance, the manifestation of anti-Semitism in Christianity, as a type of resource competitiveness toward Jews (whether through exclusion or expulsions), likewise represents this. Anti-Islamism is another example. Jews and Muslims alike are vilified in Christianity, precisely because they are “power-seeking,” unlike, presumably, pious Christians. Jews will likewise venerate meekness and powerlessness, while simultaneously seeking power (or, indeed, as a cover for seeking power, whether conscious or not). And as Hank Pym-like inventors of this type of “morality,” Jews typically do this in a far more convincing and effective manner than Christians. After all, as Nietzsche described it, “morality” is often just the power of mimicry (or, indeed, the power of Crypsis). The self-diminishment/miniaturization of Ant-Man, in this context, also becomes the perfect metaphor for the Jew or Christian projecting meekness, while, nevertheless, retaining a superhuman strength and will within.^[4]

With the figure of the tiny Ant-Man, we are reminded now of the figure of the Dwarf, who appears in mythologies as disparate as Norse, Egyptian, Greek, and Hindu, and is understood as a non-Aryan, Semitic figure. In the Hindu tradition, the Dwarf is, like Ant-Man, capable in some stories of both growing and shrinking, again suggesting a sort of protean power of Crypsis. Pym’s connection to wealth and money (Pim unit) also appears in myth in the gold-obsessed Dwarf, especially in the Norse tradition (this is continued in Tolkien), where he appears as a miner of gold and precious metals. Indeed, Pym’s helmet, which is understood as being requisite to the shrinking ability, is also found with the villainous, Dwarfish figure of Alberich in Der Ring des Nibelungen, the Wagnerian opera based on these myths. Here is the Tarnhelm, a helm of invisibility, shape-shifting, and deception, that Albrecht wears in Das Rheingold, the prelude to Wagner’s Ring.

More profoundly, in Greek and Roman mythology, the ominous figure of the King of the Underworld, and Death himself, possesses the helm of invisibility. He, too, is connected to wealth, especially in the Roman pantheon, where the name Pluto, in a manner similar to Pym, is derived from the Greek Plouton or “God of Wealth.” We see this in English in the word “plutocrat.”^[5] Like Hades and the Dwarf, Ant-Man is also a hidden and chthonic being, an inhabitant of tunnels.^[6]

The WASP

As mentioned, Hope van Dyne is the daughter of Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne (the original Wasp), who, we learn, mysteriously disappeared while on an adventure with Hank. Throughout the film, Hope expresses her wish to take up her mother’s mantle, and she puts herself forward as the person to infiltrate Cross Tech and steal the shrinking technology. This is fiercely resisted by Pym. And after much prodding, he reveals that on a mission to stop a Soviet nuclear attack on the United States, the Ant-Man and Wasp jumped aboard a missile in mid-flight and endeavored to climb inside it and disarm it. They found this impossible, as the missile was cased in a titanium shell. Without hesitation, the Wasp chose to override her suit’s regulator and shrink down to “subatomic” proportions in order to climb inside. This quantum realm proved to be an “undiscovered country,” whence no traveler returns. Pym sees “going subatomic” as a constant danger and, in order to protect his only daughter, he refuses to let subject herself to the dangers of being a shape-shifting superhero.

By the end, it is revealed that Hank has changed his mind and that Hope will assume the superhero identity of the Wasp. (The 2018 sequel to Ant-Man will be called Ant-Man and the Wasp.) The Wasp of the comic book series possess Pym’s shirking ability and is equipped also with wings. She is a latter-day Tinkerbell (though, of course, Tinkerbell as a post-feminist “modern woman").

The creator’s decision to make Dyne assume the identity of a Wasp, as opposed to an ant or other insect almost, certainly has significance. To a degree, “Wasp” carries a connotation of beauty (in the sense of a woman having a “waspish” figure), and certainly beauty is understood as an attribute of “the Winsome Wasp,” as she was known in comics. On the other hand, this decision almost certainly had a more important root, particularly in light of all that we have hitherto discovered.

As a New Yorker, Lee (along with his collaborators, like Jack Kirby) was certainly aware of the acronymic term WASP (White Anglo-Saxon-Protestant) when they created this character in 1963. The term was already in colloquial usage by the 1950s, and nearly all things colloquial are known early, if not first, in the great cultural crossroads of New York City, and especially among those most cosmopolitan of peoples, the Jews. (The term WASP was widely popularized by the E. Digby Baltzell book The Protestant Establishment, which appeared in 1964, a year after the Wasp first appeared in the comics.)

The 2015 film seems to esoterically confirm this link. Hank Pym, speaking to his daughter Hope, utters this cryptic line: “They called your mother The Wasp. She was born to it.” On its face, he is saying she was a natural superhero. Esoterically, being “born to it” seems to reference “WASP privilege.”

The name Janet van Dyne indicates Old New York or New Jersey Dutch ancestry, and is, technically, not Anglo-Saxon. Technically. After all, the tiny founding Dutch population of New Netherland, of whom it is implied the “old money” van Dyne is descended, rapidly assimilated to the greater Anglo-Saxon culture following the Revolutionary War, losing its language and virtually all outwardly signs of cultural dissimilarity. Subsequent Dutch immigrations would follow suit.

In other words, van Dyne is intended as a WASP by any reasonable definition of the term (and certainly from the perspective of her Jewish creators, who are unlikely to make such fine-grain distinctions). Why not actually give her an Anglo-Saxon name, if the name is intended as a cryptonym? Perhaps, not making her technically a WASP (which was a term of abuse), may have prevented the cryptonym forbeing too blatant in the eyes of the occasional adult supervisor (who was, at the time, commonly him or herself a WASP, even if not of the wealthy, Brahmin variety). Here, a sort of plausible deniability appears.

The final bit of evidence for the Wasp/WASP connection is the sort of play of words that occurs with this term. To wit, it was understood as fitting because WASPs were “waspish” (or at least this was the caricature that was implied). And perhaps, indeed, WASPs of the period were waspish toward out-groups. (We see a latter-day residue of this in the “petulant” Ann Coulter.)

Arguably this “waspishness” is also manifested in a sort of edginess and coquettishness that appears in the character. In these tales, she incessantly teases the Ant-Man by openly admiring other superhero men, especially the masculine Thor. She does this, it is understood, because Ant-Man just won’t commit! Such is, perhaps, the ambivalence of a Jewish man dating a shiksa WASP woman (at least during this period of Jewish ascension).

On the one hand, he is envious of what he perceives as a beautiful and powerful people; on the other hand, if his tradition teaches him anything, it is that a “Wasp” is shallow, inferior, and hostile. Indeed, his very existence as a Jew through all of history has depended on this kind of antagonism towards Gentiles. Philip Roth’s Portnoy’s Complaint and Woody Allen’s Annie Hall are the classic studies in Jewish male ambivalence, lust, and chauvinism toward the “Winsome Wasp.” In the character of Ant-Man, we see it rendered in comic-book form, for the kids.

Indeed, in the end, it seems impossible to believe that Stan Lee, the master of cryptonyms, did not intend The Wasp to essentially represent a WASP. What may be more surprising, however, is the Wasp’s appearance as a heroine and not a villain. Perhaps the fact that she is female is the reason. It is difficult to imagine a strong White male character named “The Wasp” who is also a “good guy” sticking around for long in the Judaized universe of Marvel, if he ever did, accidentally, appear.

Instead, here, between the male Ant-Man and the female Wasp, we see a covert alliance, symbolically, an alliance between a Jewish man and a WASP woman. Do we not see an awareness—perhaps a surprising one—of the great many benefits gained by Jews in their relationship to WASPs?^[7]

Of note is that in the 2015 film, Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne battle a hostile Soviet Union during the Cold War. The Cold War was, of course, a period when the environment of the Soviet Union was understood to have grown antagonistic to Jewish interests. Hence, we see in the Ant-Man/Wasp pairing, a metaphor for a Jewish-WASP alliance in opposition to an “anti-Semitic” Russia. Importantly, the Jew is metaphorically the man in this relationship.

Of note here is an interesting reversal that seems to occur with The Wasp. Typically, superhero characters that are intended as crypto-Jews—the most famous case being Superman—have superhero identities that are understood as their “real identities” (i.e., the hidden, superhuman Jew), shrouded by a WASP disguise (i.e., Clark Kent). With the Wasp, we have the opposite. Van Dyne’s powerful superhero identity is her assumed identity. In truth, her real Gentile identity is understood as human, weak, and vulnerable. Indeed, the only reason she has power at all is because the Ant-Man has granted it to her—and, it can be assumed, he is directing that power, if only by virtue of being its provider.

Pym’s Hope

In the case of Hope van Dyne, we assume 50 percent biological Jewish inheritance. The casting of the brunette Evangeline Lily neither strongly confirms nor refutes this. As mentioned, at the beginning of the Ant-Man film, we find her working at Cross Tech, as a close associate of Darren Cross. Because of this, keeping with Lee’s metaphor, we can grasp that she identifies as a Christian. Indeed, we come to understand that her relationship with Pym is seriously damaged. Hence, in context, we also understand her relationship with Judaism as likewise damaged.

Pym refuses to reveal to Hope the circumstances under which her mother perished. Perhaps we could metaphorically conceive of Hope as resenting Pym for obliterating her WASP heritage?

At Cross Tech, however, she soon discovers that Darren is not as benevolent as she first imagined. Her disillusionment begins with Cross’s animal testing. While exploring scientifically the miniaturization technology, Darren uses lambs, which are slaughtered in vast numbers—turned into blobs of bloody goo, as Cross struggles to properly shrink the space between molecules. Hope asks Cross, “I thought we were using rats.“ He answers back, ”What’s the difference?"

So while the morality of animal testing is gestured at, it’s hard not to see these slaughtered lambs as deeply symbolic.

So what is really happening here? The scapegoat or sacrificial lamb is one of the central motifs of Jewish esotericism. As I have discussed elsewhere, the scapegoat is an animal into which the Jewish community places their sins. They then destroy the goat in order to absolve themselves of these sins. Kosher slaughter is almost certainly an expression of this notion. Freud more succinctly distills the premise of this ancient phenomena in his notion of “projection.”

In that case, who are the lambs being sacrificed by Cross (or “dying on the Cross”)? As I have mentioned elsewhere, Christ, symbolically, is an example of such a scapegoat. Hence at least on a Jungian level, we see the process of scapegoating as it ostensibly occurs within Christianity, to the extent that it likely misunderstands itself and therefore successfully imitates the foreign religion of Judaism. To wit, by the continual reenactment of Christ’s crucifixion, the community places its sins onto Christ, destroys him (“he dies for their sins”), and thereby absolves themselves. Emerging absolved and sinless, they are then liberated to act selfishly in the interests of their tribe. In a Jungian manner, Cross’s slaughter of these lambs signifies this. In Judaism, it is ultimately the Other, the livestock animal, the goyim, that is symbolically destroyed in the ritual. We are reminded of the astonishing and darkly amusing case of Bernie Madoff and his wife, Ruth while under house arrest; the latter was recorded frequently lamenting that Gentiles had brought on their misfortune. Here, it seems, the instinct that was created and reinforced by the religious practice of scapegoating is revealed.

In Ant-Man, it is insinuated that the Other is being forced to die for the sins of Cross (that is, the European Christian). We are familiar with this mantra in Jewish statements regarding the Holocaust—usually a variation on how “Christian Europe made a scapegoat of the Jews.” The use of the word “scapegoat” is quite deliberate. Indeed, brilliantly, hilariously, and dizzyingly, the scapegoated Goyim are scapegoated as the scapegoat-er! And, perhaps, again, to the very limited extent that Christianity has successfully imitated its forbearer, Christianity has sought to scapegoat its enemies (especially Jews) out of sort of dim, golem-like reflex, which senses, with great irritation, that it has been manipulated. After all, Christianity is an imitation of Judaism, likely even intended in its origin, as I have argued elsewhere, to scapegoat and weaken the very people it sought to convert. This has occurred, I believe, by placing the dying and suffering God Christ, the scapegoat, as an imitable bellwether for its flock, with Jewish antagonists like the Pharisees merely adding credibility and salability to the tale (not unlike, with the X-Men, the villainous, Jewish Magneto placed vis-à-vis the Christ-figure Professor-X).

In any case, even when Christianity assumes its more positive incarnation, the notion of sacrificing one’s own God to save oneself as the sacred act is, of course, a knave’s ethic. It is entirely repellent to the Aryan soul, which, for a great long time, has labored in confusion, perilously stunted by the utterly alien and confounding symbolism of Christianity. The Ant-Man film, in a sense, depicts this confusion, depicting Darren’s struggle to comprehend and replicate something Pym developed much earlier, and which, for Pym, comes naturally.

The element Darren is missing is the Ant-Man helmet (or the Tarnhelm of Wagner’s Ring). In a Jungian sense, the helmet, associated with the head, could also be a reference to Pym’s (and the Jew’s) greater intellect and comprehension, to mention nothing of his greater powers of deception and Crypsis. And, along these lines, a bit of “esoteric comedy” appears when Cross finally succeeds in replicating the technology and triumphantly holds a miniaturized lamb in his hand. Indeed, the goyim, livestock animal, the mindless herd have achieved a Judaic power. Cross (Christ) has his flock!

In short, in the lamb-slaughtering sequence, we see Hope van Dyne coming to the realization that the morally-judgmental and scapegoating Christian is the very type that “leads to the Holocaust” (as it is put). The mechanized, technological “mass-murder” of the lambs is particularly suggestive of this. The specter of “Nazi experimentation on Jews” is likewise hinted at. This realization marks Hope’s spiritual return to Pym, and to Judaism.

Interestingly, however, Hope will remain at Cross Tech (that is, within Christendom), while acting to undermine it, in allegiance to Pym, her Jewish half. Here, we see shades of Kevin MacDonald’s contentions. To wit, Jews benefit by some out-group intermixture, which serves to improve relationships with Gentiles and acts as a sort of outer protectant. A circle of half-Jews or partial Jews surrounding the core will remain faithful to Jews, and they will further Jewish interests in ways that full Jews could not.

In the Ant-Man metaphor, Hope, having ostensibly rejected Pym (Judaism) has the trust of Cross, whereas Pym does not. Hence Hope may act more effectively in the interests of Pym. These partial Jews or “assimilated” Jews—Conversos, as they were called in previous Christian societies—are in a sense understood here as the “Hope” of Judaism. Here, in the character of Hope is an esoteric and subliminal call to Jews outside of the faith to serve the interests of Judaism, even if while not presenting themselves as Jews. It is also a call, in the character of Pym, to Jews within the faith, to strengthen relationships with their “assimilated” cousins.

Again, the fact that Hope’s mother, Janet, has died is symbolic. The WASP heritage is dead. Hope’s “character arc” is to accept this and cease blaming her father for her loss. And the film makes clear that Pym is innocent of everything. The daughter’s rebellion was perhaps understandable, certainly forgivable, but ultimately wrongheaded.

Revealed, as well, is the dubiousness of Jewish Matrilineality, as a kind of iron-law requirement for fidelity toward Judaism. When Hope assumes her mother’s “WASPy” costume, as she does at the end of the film, it is precisely that—a costume, a means of crypsis, by which to wage war against the racial enemies of Pym (Judaism). With Hope’s mother, Janet, the Wasp represented her heritage.

In this line, it’s is useful to return to the nature of Janet van Dyne’s death, which occurred in a highly symbolic fashion. In order to stop a Russian nuclear missile headed toward the United States, Janet van Dyne was forced to “go sub-atomic” so as to pass through the metal and de-activate it. “Going sub-atomic” is understood as essentially a suicide mission. In the world of the film, no one returns from going sub-atomic, but rather enters into a sort of inescapable netherworld. As Pym describes it, “Everything that you know and love, gone forever.”

If one understands the Ant-Man power of shrinking (and stealthy infiltration) as an especially apt and powerful metaphor for Jewish crypsis, then “going sub-atomic” likewise becomes the perfect metaphor for complete assimilation—that is, racial death. After all, at some point, Jewish crypsis becomes this. One can minimize their true identity only so far without losing it entirely. Yet, of course, the metaphor must also apply to WASPs, even if their identities are understood as a mere costumes to begin with. Hence, we see the WASP “going sub-atomic” and losing her identity to save the great “Idea Nation” of America and also, perhaps, as a condition of becoming Pym’s wife. As Pym retells the story, his technological “regulator” was damaged and thus would not allow him to make the same sacrifice.

Though, on the other hand, the Jewish Lang will likewise have to “go sub-atomic” to dispatch Cross and rescue his daughter. He, however, is able to make the return by applying a shrinking device to his “regulator.” Perhaps some might read this as lazy writing of part of Marvel’s avoidance of tragedy: the lead character miraculously escapes so as to be ready for a sequel. But on a deeper level, this gesture is a coup de foudre of the central metaphor of Ant-Man—indestructible identity of Judaism.

The Ants

Lastly, the Ant-Man’s name does not only derive from his small stature, but from his ability to control teams of ants through brain waves. This scientific power is akin, in many ways, to Professor X’s mind-control powers, which I have discussed in relation to the X-Men. Here, once more, the film appears to seek to heighten ethnic messaging, which are only latent in other Marvel mythologies.

In Ant-Man, the Jewish Lang has two sets of allies, whom he leads against Cross Tech. These allies are the ants in the miniaturized world and a trio of dimwitted, bumbling, ex-con immigrants and minorities in the human realm: a Mexican immigrant, a Semitic-looking Russian, and an African-American. Indeed, in our politically-correct climate, this human trio would almost certainly be understood as comprised of insulting stereotypes, albeit humorously and lovingly rendered. (Certainly, someone somewhere took offense.) Perhaps, however, this should be understood as the “good-natured” and, undoubtedly, deserved, ribbing of shabbos goyim and useful idiots.

Regardless, it is clear that a parallel is being drawn between Lang’s two sets of allies. Lang, himself an ex-con and master thief, directs the ex-cons in criminal enterprises and, eventually, operations serving the interests of Pym. Clearly, Lang is posited here as the “brains” of the human group.

Likewise, by using his Ant-Man technology, Lang directs his ant swarm. Hence, it is suggested that both allies are minions. And, at least as far mythic precedents go, outside of the metaphor of the golem, no metaphor suggests servility quite like the metaphor of an ant.^[8]

Here we see Jews allying with and directing non-White and foreign immigrant groups against a core White Christian culture (Cross Tech). The suggestion is that these non-Whites and foreigners can be commanded as easily and readily as ants. Indeed, they are held in contrast, of course, to their enemy, who cannot be commanded and must be destroyed (Cross Tech/Christendom).

In some sense, it is rather as if David Duke and Kevin MacDonald, developing an interest in esoteric story-telling, co-conceived the Ant-Man, intending it as a tragedy—only to have it rendered as a happy-ending comedy by a group of cruelly-amused Hollywood writers and directors. This is the “conspiracy theory,” transmitted esoterically by Lee: Jews would prefer a non-White or mixed population to live among because they would be easier to command.

These immigrants and minorities are likewise golems as understood in Jewish lore. They are animated and commanded only by Jews, and are otherwise inert. Pym makes this clear in a discussion with Lang:

Scott, they are ants, they can do a lot of things… but they still need a leader. Someone that can infiltrate a place that is designed to prevent infiltration.

The irony here, of course, is that Cross Tech, or Christendom, is designed, at its, conception precisely to allow infiltration. To wit, dousing oneself with baptismal water and simply claiming one is a Christian seems, truly, the primary criteria. Indeed, the shared Christianity of Mexicans, for example, is regularly understood by Christians as making them more benign than Muslims from the Middle East—when, in fact, the very opposite is the case. After all, Muslims usefully erect stronger barriers against us and are opposed to entering Christendom.

Hence what emerges is the happy acknowledgement by Lee that Jews direct foreign elements against their host nations, and that these foreign elements are unintelligent, unwitting pawns.

This is what could be called “Esoteric Jewish Triumphalism.” And Stan Lee is a master of it. Spielberg is another. Whatever its goal, its two-fold function appears to be: 1) subliminal demoralization of the host population; 2) moralization of Jews, both those who unconsciously sense the message and those who can decipher it.

The weakness of Esoteric Jewish Triumphalism, on the other hand, is made clear merely by my decoding of fables like Ant-Man and X-Men. To wit, it is required to be communicated to a relatively large and disconnected group of people, however small relative to the larger population. Hence, symbols and references cannot be too obscure or coded, or they will be missed, both by the conscious and unconscious mind. Indeed, the more ambitious and global its intention, the simpler and more recognizable the symbols must become. Thus, non-Jews, with a little practice and a little cleverness, can decode it. Additionally, the Internet vastly eases and accelerates this process. (Perhaps most important of all, the loss of an emotional attachment to Christianity, a key subterfuge in Jewish esotericism, allows for complete analysis.)

The strength of Esoteric Jewish Triumphalism is plausible deniability on the part of artists. To wit, Stan Lee, for example, can always say that his superhero myths are just fantastical stories, and should not be interpreted beyond the surface level. Yet, of course, as other things become apparent regarding Jewish behavior, the plausibility of this deniability becomes weakened, and is ultimately irrelevant. In some instances, as I’ve conceded, symbols and metaphors undoubtedly arise from the subconscious and were not necessarily intended by the artists. Yet from a practical view, this is, perhaps, less relevant, especially since no verification can be expected from what is a hostile source.

In fact, the larger question will persist and remain unanswerable. Namely, to what extent are Jews conscious of both their hyper-ethnocentrism and their adversarial behavior toward the European racial type? And to what extent do they act out of a mere traditional, religious, cultural, and genetic instinct?

Hence, analysis of Esoteric Jewish Triumphalist art should not exclude consideration of symbols and metaphors that, perhaps, arise unconsciously, any more than the analysis of Jewish behavior should exclude understanding behavior that may or may not be conscious. How well Jews know themselves is of less importance to us than how well we know Jews. And, indeed, we should not be so arrogant to discount the possibility that such metaphors will reveal something insightful about ourselves, good or bad, even as we understand the adversarial and chauvinistic hands by which they are formed. For instance, in many instance, comic creators employ the polytheistic Greek religion, but from the perspective of the hidden and Chthonic, and not from the Truthful and solar. Nevertheless, they reminds us of our lost religion.

Toward Esoteric Hyperborean Triumphalism

The solution to this particular type of culture warfare is to two-fold.

1. Analysis—sober and accurate, which takes as few leaps as possible and reveals Jewish esoteric messaging to Gentile audiences.

2. Adaption—the development of symbolist works from an Aryan perspective.

Both the effective analysis of Esoteric Jewish Triumphalist works and plausible deniability will protect symbolist works developed from an Aryan perspective. In other words, “if you can go to war, so shall we!” Or, flipped, “We are not going to war. You are just paranoid!”

This analysis, from our perspective, will have a motivating effect on artists otherwise debilitated by the purposeless perspective of their deracinated art. As Goethe said: “To do something, you must be something.” We call them, as Nietzsche did, to be Hyperboreans.

We are at a vast advantage here. Our deep and rich myth traditions, which have no equal, particularly the Greco-Roman, will aid us. Here alone the aesthetic and the symbolic (or subliminal) are aligned. And as far as creating beauty in form, we have no close competitor. One should understand that the archetypes of the gods, especially the 12 Olympians, are the archetypes for story-telling. Through Christianity, these gods have (literally) been demonized, and hence the gift of story-telling and Art in its highest form—as a race-protecting religion—has been taken from us.

Nietzsche was correct: Art is the answer. And Gods, you are free.

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The character of Miss Moneypenny, portrayed by Lois Maxwell in many of the Bond movies, was part of the successful formula of the movie franchise. The gentle sexual tension – forever unrequited – added a note of humour that helped to define and humanize Bond.

Much could be said about what Moneypenny represents. In some respects she is an avatar of “Little England,” an embodiment of English feminine virtue —pure without being puritanical, upright without being stiff, vaguely Christian in a C of E sort of way, motherly in non-specific way, and a little sexy, at least enough for Bond to lay his one-liners on. She is rather reminiscent of Greer Garson’s portrayal of the English everywoman in the 1942 wartime film Mrs. Miniver.

This means that she is simply too English—and therefore domesticating—for Bond, and any deeper contact between them run the risk of fixing Bond’s “free radical” spirit in a conventional marriage with a consequent loss of virility and danger. Bond’s penchant for exotic foreign women suddenly makes sense.

As played by Maxwell (1962-85) to Bernard Lee’s M (1962-79), one can also view Moneypenny as a stand-in for M’s wife, whom we never actually see. In view of the fact that Bond’s relationship with M often comes across as a troubled filial one, with Bond constantly rebelling against this father figure, his flirting with Moneypenny even takes on a mild Oedipal character, although Bond never crosses that line, showing a respect for the absolutes of authority (if not the details).

These intriguing elements made this relationship a successful and fixed part of the Bond formula, so much so that it later lapsed into something more clichéd. In the Moore years (1973-85) it began to lean ever more heavily on the trope of the perpetual old maid holding a candle for a man she knows in her heart will never marry her.

In this period, the flirtation between Bond and Moneypenny seemed to be more obviously constrained by the simple fact that she was past her sell-by date. Interestingly, both actors were born in the same year, 1927, and were 58 when they made their last film together, 1985’s A View to a Kill.

While Lois Maxwell was obviously one of a kind in the role of Moneypenny, the importance of the role she played was recognized when the character was continued in subsequent Bond movies, although with a string of largely forgettable actresses, of whom Samantha Bond (1994-2005) was the most significant. The inability to get this part right was yet another reason why the Pierce Brosnan-era Bond saw a relative decline in Bond quality.

The paradoxical nature of the Moneypenny character is to be both sexual and anti-sexual, alluring enough in an after-the-office-party sort of way, but also with an element of sexual distance.

In general, fictional characters need to be defined by their flaws and limitations. This is a problem in the case of Bond, who is almost on the level of a superhero, able to overcome almost any difficulty, including female chastity. There is something rather dehumanizing about such characters. In Goldfinger, he even famously straightens out the lesbian character Pussy Galore, who never knew what a “real man” was before. From a dramatic perspective, limits on such polymorphous potency—however they come—can only be a good thing, serving to humanize the character. The fact that not all women can be had by Bond also raises the values of those that he can get.

Connery’s panther was kept at bay, without any loss of his virility, by Maxwell’s cattish complexity. By the time Roger Moore came along, the old maid trope was in operation, something that subtly riffed off the fact that Moore himself was perhaps a little over the hill, an interesting counterpoint.

The second-last Bond movie, Skyfall (2012), was notable, among many other things, for what was a serious attempt at rebooting the role of Moneypenny. There was much comment, especially in Alt-Right circles, about the fact that the role was now played by a Black Caribbean actress, Naomie Harris. This was seen by some as part of a general trend towards the “Blackification” of White characters that included such traditional White roles as Little Orphan Annie and Spiderman.

With speculation growing about the possibility of Black actor Idris Elba ultimately succeeding Daniel Craig in the Bond role, I was actually reassured by Harris’s appointment as Moneypenny. By doing this, the producers had obviously ticked the “diversity box” and paid their dues to the multicultural monster, thus suggesting that Bond’s Whiteness would survive the Craig era.

It could have been a lot worse. Imagine if, following the M’s death on the Scottish moors, an affirmative action hiring at MI6 had been fast-tracked into playing Bond’s boss and parental substitute!

Some have commented on a streak of subtle misogyny in Sam Mendez’s vision of Bond: the women (Moneypenny and M) are shown to be incompetent and are demoted or demote themselves; men—and old-fashioned men at that—replace them. In Skyfall, Moneypenny becomes Moneypenny because she can’t hack it in the field, and so instead takes on the typical female support role of secretary.

But the choice of Harris was also interesting in another way. Progressives may have welcomed the new Black Moneypenny as yet another token that “British” no longer equals “White” (an erroneous idea) —and even as a stepping stone to a non-White Bond—but if they did so, they did so in ignorance of the Bond mythos and the essential functionality of the characters.

Moneypenny’s anti-sexual aspect vis-à-vis Bond is deceptively important but non-controversial. However, combined with a difference in race, it suddenly becomes a lot more problematic in a multicultural context.

While Roger Moore’s Bond failed to consummate the flirtatious relationship with Lois Maxwell’s Moneypenny because of her age, it begins to look like the barrier between Naomi Harris’s Moneypenny and Daniel Craig’s Bond is simply race, as she is younger than him and not particularly unattractive—unless one happens to be a “racist” of course.

The fact that Harris’s Moneypenny accidentally shot Bond at the beginning of Skyfall may offer a little temporary cover to help explain away Bond’s diffidence towards her, but as things proceed in our increasingly racially charged times, Bond’s reasons for not “getting it on” with Miss Moneypenny are going to look increasingly like a touch of that old racially aware Empire spirit of Bond’s original creator.

The hysterical angst of the Republican Establishment concerning the rise of Trump is glorious to observe. Of course, the interesting thing is their complete lack of self-awareness, their lack of understanding that they themselves are responsible for the predicament they find themselves in.

One reason is that the GOP has been complicit in the demographic changes that have put them “in between a rock and a hard place,” politically speaking. On the one hand, Republicans look at America’s growing colored population and see the need to appeal to that demographic. On the other hand, the GOP base of support is conservative White Americans, particularly right-of-center White men. To pander to minorities runs the risk of alienating the base; to secure the base runs the risk of alienating the coloreds. Up to this point, the GOP strategy has been to pander to the colored minorities, while throwing “bones” to the base in the form of phony “implicit Whiteness” and “dog whistling” rhetoric with no real-life political consequences. Heretofore, the GOP has mastered feinting right during the primaries, running centrist in the general election, and, in the rare cases of GOP Presidential victories (since Ronnie Raygun, we have had only the two failed Bush men being elected), governing from the left. Base anger has been silenced by “they have nowhere else to go” “lesser of two evils” electoral considerations.

But now, the rise of Trump is an ill wind blowing in the direction of the GOP elites: the base is starting to awaken and will not be forever willing to “vote for lesser of two evils” and support anti-White leftist Republican candidates.

But there is something else. The problem with Trump is seemingly not only his ideology of right-wing populism (real or fake), it is also because the Republican Establishment – with some justification – see Trump as an ill-informed, vulgar, obnoxious, childish buffoon, with no self-control and an embarrassing lack of gravitas. Very well, but in response to those concerns I have two words: Pat Buchanan.

Like Trump, Buchanan ran for President as a right-wing populist Republican. In fact, there is considerable overlap in overt ideology between the two men’s campaigns. While lacking Trumps’ “alpha jerk-boy” charisma, Buchanan has certain advantages that you would think would endear him to the GOP elites: Buchanan is a well-informed, articulate, religious man, with strong Establishment connections, and prior political experience in previous Republican administrations. Buchanan has always been an “inside-the-Beltway” man, and is not an obnoxious buffoon.

And how did the GOP elites deal with the more polished and political Buchanan? With the same disdain and hysteria that they now reserve for “Der Trumpening.” The Elite made it clear that they would never accept Buchanan as the nominee, they panicked over his early successes, they sabotaged his campaign (as I recall, they even prevented him from being on the ballot in some states), etc. So, the case of Buchanan proves that the problem with Trump is not so much his repellent personal aspects, but his core of right-wing populism. Anything that appeals to Whites is anathema to the GOP, which is of course self-destructive given the nature of the GOP base (it is not for nothing that Sam Francis labeled the GOP “the Stupid Party”).

The point is that the GOP lost anyway with Bush and Dole in 1992 and 1996. While it is understandable that the incumbent would be favored in 1992, there was no excuse for favoring the “living mummy” “civil rights Republican” Dole over Buchanan in 1996. Favoring Buchanan would have solidified the GOP base and could have put the party in the direction of a right-wing populist track that could have genuinely benefited White Americans.

But, no. The elites sabotaged Buchanan and they suppressed right-wing populism for several electoral cycles. Now it has erupted in a more “virulent” form with Donald Trump. Instead of learning their lesson and understanding that the base cannot be taken for granted, instead of understanding that they need candidates that appeal to the base, the GOP elites are hell-bent on sabotaging Trump and suppressing right-wing populism for another couple of electoral cycles.

They may succeed but they are playing with fire. Who will come after Trump? Who will be the next right-wing populist? As even worthless and weak Whites become more aggressive out of sheer desperation, who will they turn to next? Someone more extreme and firebrand-populist compared to Trump to the same degree Trump is compared to Buchanan?

It won’t be “the fire next time,” but it may well be “the Nazi next time.” The GOP elites had better hope that their country clubs are well fortified, indeed.

This article was first published at EGI Notes.

Are you feeling alienated these days? You’re not alone.

Any moderately-engaged college student can bullshit some argument about how the capitalistic mode of production necessarily corrupts the relationship between a man and his labor, thereby dooming him to material bondage and spiritual decay. But they have been prepared to battle an irrelevant monster. The alienation of today stems not from a separation of a man and his labor, but from the separation of a man and his heritage.

This should be evident to anyone with a genuine concern for social justice. If the outputs that a man creates hold spiritual and material significance for his well-being, then so must the inputs that create man. The land that we live on, the people who live and have lived there, and the rituals that connect all of these elements together are critical archaic catalysts for our full human potential. When these values are commoditized and controlled for the profit of the powerful, despair is sure to follow.

An unholy alliance of vote-hungry demagogues and cheap labor business interests continually conspire to further degrade the lands, communities, and ritual contexts that ethnic Americans need to survive, as Peter Brimelow and Ann Coulter have ably documented. These groups benefit handsomely: We submit to enticing masters and spend beyond our means to fill our inner voids.

The exploitation imposed by the multicultural mode of society has been ingeniously marketed to Americans by our hostile elite. Decades of anti-racist programming have so effectively instilled false consciousness among the people that they lack even a language to describe their own dispossession, let alone a viable channel for organization and petition. What’s the point? Increasing “diversity” leads to decreased trust, as Robert Putnam was agonized to discover. Demoralized Americans no longer pursue the kinds of meaningful charity and civic projects that strengthen our communities and ourselves. And around the drain we go.

A host of recent polls shows that Americans are becoming aware of their alienation of identity. One alarming survey reports that 58% of Americans do not identify with what their country has become. Another 53% say they feel like a “stranger in their own country.” Millennials in particular are now beginning to feel the heat. A recent poll from Fusion finds that around a third of young white Americans do not believe the American dream is alive. They are “unmoored” from our institutions and feel little patriotism for their country. What else could we expect in a country where more than half of all births are to foreign opportunists?

The results have been predictably catastrophic.

Charles Murray’s excellent book Coming Apart chronicled how the loss of ethnic fellow-feeling during the tumultuous 1960’s has consumed the working classes in America. Abandoned by their betters and patronized away from their traditions, the proletariat class that the revolutionary Left once championed is now being crushed by waves of silent nihilism. Family, church, and duty have been replaced by Facebook, Cheetos, and antidepressants. Social pathologies rage unabated among our most vulnerable communities, leading to personal and communal ruin.

Did you know that a heroin epidemic has been ravaging lower class white American communities for decades? There’s a good chance you’ve haven’t, even though it’s a much larger problem than the 1980’s crack outbreak.

More recently, economists Anne Case and Angus Deaton published a stunning report that found that the death rates for lower class, middle-aged white Americans since 1999 have skyrocketed while those for all other demographics have declined. Our demoralized cousins have turned en masse to drugs and suicide and no one really noticed or cared. Deaton, who happens to be this year’s Nobel laureate, contextualizes: “Only H.I.V./AIDS in contemporary times has done anything like this.” But such explosive findings were not interesting to the Journal of the American Medical Association and the New England Journal of Medicine, which immediately rejected the paper for publication when first submitted. These were not the victims they wanted.

It is clear that the toxic social effects of the alienation of identity far exceeds the cartoonish Marxist scare-story that justified the slaughter of so many in its service. Yet discussion of how multiculturalism exploits the innocent to profit the powerful is actively suppressed by this scheme’s beneficiaries. The cause of white identity is therefore the cause of justice.

We refuse to stand for this injustice. We must relentlessly will our own salvation. We will watch our enemies while we inspire and educate our friends. We will discipline ourselves and become strong. We will prepare ourselves now for the clash that must occur. And we will never forget what has been done to our people.

In the sweet, recent past, pornography was a distasteful habit pursued in shameful secrecy. In the clown world, porn actors fight to restore their names not because being in porn tanks their credibility, but because of soap opera rape Tweets.

The “rape” of a “feminist” porn actress by her also “feminist” partner-in-crime is top entertainment news in the Washington Post:

Arguably the most popular male star in adult film, [James] Deen is now fighting to restore his name after he was publicly accused by [fellow porn star Stoya] this weekend of raping her – a claim that was soon followed by similar accusations from two other adult film stars, effectively upending one of the most carefully crafted images in a formerly underground industry whose biggest names are now reaching for mainstream fame.

For what it’s worth, the beleaguered whoremonger denies the accusations and maintains that he “respects women.”

If, as I suspect, you aren’t au courant with the porn industry’s latest, you should know that “prolific performer” Bryan Sevilla, better known as James Deen, is more than your stereotypical skin flick stud. WaPo continues its jaundiced gushing:

Over his 11 year career, Deen has emerged as the unlikely darling of the industry – the kind of slender, sensative guy you’d expect to see in a boy band rather than a kinky X-rated film. His boy-next-door vibe and pro-feminist persona helped him capture the attention and imaginations of women of all ages…

Deen expounded on his ideal consent culture to GQ:

Allie relates a childhood memory, the gist of which is that when she was 9 years old, hanging out with her brothers, she was encouraged to perform sexual acts for their friends in exchange for marijuana.

Now Deen looks up from his telephone for the first time in a while.

“And you where cool with it?”

“Oh yeah,” says Allie James.

Deen hoists his eyebrows. “As long as you were cool with it,” he says.

What a charmer.

The press raved over his brand of so-called compassionate pornography, which dispensed with the delivery boys and “bang vans” in favor of deliberate eye contact and “whispering sweet nothings.” His much vaunted “Jewish boy next door vibe” strongly and unfortunately appealed mostly to broken girls.

Then there’s the raven haired damsel: 29-year-old Jessica “Stoya” Stojadinovic. The former homeschooled sci-fi geek fom North Carolina carefully crafted a cerebral smuttiness that fortitously extended her sex industry shelf-life, bringing her super stardom and even mainstream respect. She regularly pens pieces for Vice, the New York Times and the Guardian, offering her positions on the “Great Condom Debate“, theories about the “metaphysics of cocksucking” and even uplifting personal anecdotes like the time she told her infirm grandmother that she appropriated her name for porn work.

James Deen and Stoya were the carefully-marketed dream couple of a sanitized sexual liberalism where only the “good” kind of nastiness prevails. They were the glowing, grinning proof that enlightened debauchery could be beautiful, even virtuous. What a shock to this self-satisfied dream world, when such latent ugliness destroys the fantasy and undoes the king and queen!

This pathetic state of affairs is a good opportunity to survey the real meaning of popular euphemisms used for damage control of the “random-sex-as-real-living” narrative:

“Rape culture” is a hysterical female reaction to a sexually exploitive environment. Sexual hostility comes not from “men” per se, but a violation of the sacred by a lascivious mass media culture.

A “feminist” today is yesterday’s lost woman in a different corset.”Sex positivity” is an adaptation to sexual trauma, which both perscribes and welcomes sexually predatory behavior.

“Consent” is a euphemism for alienation from a truly unwanted act, enabling the person to act without registering shame.

A “safe word” is reserved for when a soul’s threshold goes past its limit for corruption, as if the whole exercise is a perverse way for an individual estranged from their soul to reach it. A soul’s crying out for life is diminished to a sordid “safe word”.

These euphemisms collectively form a coping architecture that enables “performers” to live in a sickness unto death. The porn industry is consumed by “consent” because “consent” is the closed door that ensures no gusts of wind blow over their house of cards.

How sad that this common creep was ever percieved as a “darling,” a “boy next door,” and “sensative” at all. Such men promote “sex positivity” as a craven way of “protecting” women—not from violation, but from the shame that follows, so that they will continue their path to perdition. As more then a few feminist women have noted, wheedling “feminist men” exploit bleeding heart solidarity to gain access to emotionally compromised women (often unsuccesfully). Feminists would never admit it, but these “feminist” men are vastly more predatory than the “alpha men” they rail against.

The progressive, sex positive Camelot is, without Kali Yuga goggles, a ruin sliding downwards inexorably, vaudville on a lake of fire. The fallout over rape claims from spatting ex-lovers in the pornography industry, the women screeching in the streets in fishnets for the right to be sluts, are the piteous “heights” of sex unleashed by the deeply civilizationally naive. The fallen woman was not a Victorian contrivance. The illusion is cracked. Mere “sexual” anarchy is loosed.