Radix Journal

Radix Journal

A radical journal

Tag: Modernity

Freedom & The State

In order to become free, we must free ourselves from the nightmare of modernity. We must free ourselves from the myths which are utilized in order to make Europeans feel guilty about a past that they should feel proud of, we should feel proud of both the good and the bad just as other races feel pride for their entire history.

In order to become free, we must free ourselves from the nightmare of modernity. We must free ourselves from the myths which are utilized in order to make Europeans feel guilty about a past that they should feel proud of, we should feel proud of both the good and the bad just as other races feel pride for their entire history.

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Death by Modernity: Michael Haneke’s “The Seventh Continent”

What should one do when they feel dead on the inside? When yesterday, today, and tomorrow all bleed into one another and when society ceases to provide any kind of…

What should one do when they feel dead on the inside? When yesterday, today, and tomorrow all bleed into one another and when society ceases to provide any kind of meaning?

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Why I Can’t Stand St. Patrick’s Day

I’ve always instinctively disliked St. Patrick’s Day. Growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s, I was inured to the multicultural calendar of ethnic holidays I didn’t resonate with or understand….

I’ve always instinctively disliked St. Patrick’s Day. Growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s, I was inured to the multicultural calendar of ethnic holidays I didn’t resonate with or understand. But no one ever expected me to actually celebrate Rosh Hashanah—or wear T-shirts that read “I’ve got a little Jewish in me” or pinch anyone not donning a yarmulke. At one point, I started wearing Orange on March 17 . . . though the message was seemingly lost on most everyone I encountered.

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Mad Men and Selective Censorship

“You can show a woman’s breast being cut off, but you cannot show her breastfeeding.”

Creator of Mad Men Matthew Weiner was recently in Paris to participate in a kind of yearly world fair of TV series.

(Unfortunately, I got wind of it only one week before the event, and tickets were long sold out.)

Weiner appeared on two panels, the first one to talk about Mad Men‘s coming finale (I’ll post an update to the review I wrote last year once the show is over), the second one on his cinematic influences.

In the latter, Weiner talked about the hypocrisy of his own network, AMC, which had no compunction in displaying very violent scenes in its show Breaking Bad, but deleted Mad Men scenes in which characters could be seen getting high or laid.

The fair was hosted by Paris’s city council, which might explain why the image and sound are mismatched in the second video. (In my libertarian days, I would have blamed it on public workers.)

I thus decided to extract the audio and repost it on YouTube with a static picture of Weiner. I also transcribed his statements.

It’s all below.

N.B.: Before you remind me: yes, I know that Weiner is not allowed to cook bagels on Saturdays. That doesn’t make his point wrong, nor does it prevent Mad Men from being high culture.

“I hated the control of language, and I hated the hypocrisy of the network.

They have their other show, Breaking Bad, which you’ve all seen and loved. They would shoot people in the face, and I couldn’t show somebody grabbing a boob!

They would tell me things like: ‘He’s squeezing her butt. Could you just have it happen outside the frame? Could he just reach to the frame?’

And of course, the minute you see that, you realise it’s so much dirtier! Because he’s squeezing her butt and she’s reacting to it with pleasure, and now that I can’t see it I don’t know where his hand is. And it just got a little bit dirtier.

They were doing someone teaching people how to make crystal meth, and I couldn’t show Peggy Olson inhaling a joint! We’re on the same network at the same time. Because people weren’t using the drug, they were just making it.

I don’t even know how to explain you the bullshit of American censorship. You have your own problems here, but we love violence, and we hate sex. You can show a woman’s breast being cut off, but you cannot show her breastfeeding! It’s really messed up.

[…]

Part of the story of Mad Men was the crudeness of the culture happening. You’ll see how much more explicit people become as the show goes on. The first time you hear the F-word — and it has to be bleeped in the United States — is around Season 5. These gentlemen were all in the Navy and the Army, and they know how to swear, and they swear a lot. They did not swear in the office, they tried not to. I had people tell me anecdotes about the first time someone swore in a meeting, and everybody just sort of being like: “Oh my God!”.

There’s a certain decorum, and as you watch the show go on, you will see it becomes cruder, louder, more explicit, less poetic. All of it was a deliberate journey into the modern world.”

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Keep Calm and Ride the Tiger

Islamic terrorism is the mirror image of liberal Modernity. Jihad advances on the rubble of the Post-Western Experiment, and the Post-Western Experiment needs formidable enemies like radical Islam to keep everyone in line.

This morning, when I left my hip Parisian studio to go to work, there was a parcel waiting for me at the lobby.

It wasn’t ticking, and it wasn’t a surprise either. I had been waiting for it for weeks. It was Michel Houellebecq’s latest novel, Soumission (Submission), which was released today. Soumission takes place in 2022 France. After Marine Le Pen’s close defeat in the 2017 presidential election, a vast coalition, including all mainstream parties, yet led by a French Muslim, Mohamed Ben Abbes, puts the last nail in Front National’s coffin. Now France’s Islamization will be allowed to proceed, unchallenged. (For once, I won’t make my usual — and yet never disproved… — point that Marine’s FN is not challenging it in any meaningful way.)

This was enough for the chattering class to complain for weeks that the book might be offensive and lack sensitivity, even if they couldn’t possibly have read it then. In our Age of Tweet, literary controversy, an old French tradition, doesn’t even require that one reads the book they criticize. One just has to comment on the book’s topic, or, in this case, title. As we know, the Arabic word for “submission” is… Islam.

I was reflecting on all that on my way to work, and I was already thinking about the mighty review I would post at Radix.

Later in the morning, one of my colleagues came to me and asked: “Have you seen what happened at Charlie Hebdo? There’s been a shooting. At least ten people have died.” The satirical weekly magazine’s headquarters being only 2,500 meters from where I work, my first reaction was one of surprise. I had been hearing no police or ambulance sirens. The neighborhood was quiet, at least as can be in Paris.

Once I realized what had happened, one of my first thoughts was that this shooting coincided with Houellebecq’s novel release. Another quick thought was that in Plateforme (Platform), published only days before 9/11, the story ended with an Islamic terrorist attack against a sex resort in Thailand. Houellebecq’s prophecy was that Islamic terrorists would make their last stand against Post-Western Modernity before the Islamic world, like Southeast Asia, would be absorbed and neutered in our Brave New World Order. Four years later, in La Possibilité d’une Île (The Possibility of an Island) Houellebecq developed this point and predicted that Islamism would be, much like the Beatnik or Hippie movements, a fad, waiting to be swallowed and reframed by Modernity.

I still believe this point to be correct, though there might be some upheavals in the meantime. And that’s what happened today at Charlie Hebdo.

And before I write negative things about this publication, I should state the obvious:

  • Yes, what happened today is atrocious; any decent Westerner should express solidarity with the twelve victims and their families;
  • Yes, Charlie Hebdo is free to criticize Islam, however it might upset the terrorists’ sensitivities;
  • Yes, said terrorists should be hunted down, shot dead, and turned into compost so they can be useful at last.

But have I said anything interesting here? Should I feel “brave” just because Charlie Hebdo‘s headquarters are only blocks away from where I live? Should I seek professional support to help me get over my grief?

When faced with such tragedies, the normal reaction should be the Walter White way. In the AMC series Breaking Bad, the chemistry teacher/methamphetamine “cook” unsuccesfully tries to call everyone to reason after the collision of two planes over Albuquerque, New Mexico.

A wrong analysis of this Breaking Bad scene would be that Walter White, being a sociopath, lacks empathy towards the victims and their loved ones. I would argue the exact reverse. The real sociopaths are the attention-seeking students and teachers who want to get the same sympathy as the plane crash casualties.

I am never comfortable with the inevitable public mourning when such tragedies happen. My feeling is that decency should force us to show restraint and discretion in front of the actual suffering of the victims’ families.

Instead, what we have is an outburst of sentimentalism that not only clouds the mind but also, in my opinion, is disrespectful to the people who died. The crocodile tears shed on Facebook and Twitter are not meant for the assasinated journalists and policemen. Rather, people who post “Je suis Charlie” (I am Charlie) memes want others to look at them cry. Am I the only one to find this wrong?

Symetrical to this feminine self-obsessed digital weeping is the macho posturing political over-reaction. On Identitarian pages I stumbled across, there were guys, comfortably hidden behind their pseudonyms, who were already talking about civil war while the bodies were still warm. Drawing on their Carl Schmitt for Dummies quote collections, they were calling everyone to transcend their ideological differences, however fundamental, to defeat “the Enemy.” As if Schmitt’s analysis still applied to an atomized, disintegrated world where there are not two sides but, at the very least, three.

From the fact that everyone shall express solidarity towards the victims, it does not follow that we should seek an alliance with the likes of Charlie Hebdo.

— The Pope is pushing it too far! [pun intended] — — The Pope is pushing it too far! [pun intended] — “This is my body!”

For one cartoon criticizing Islam, Charlie Hebdo has been publishing dozens outright insulting Christians, Whites, conservatives, and men. It’s perfectly possible to defend Charlie Hebdo‘s right to publish such material without dreaming of a united “side” fighting against Islamic terrorism. Actually, it could even be argued that the latter is the mirror image of liberal Modernity. Jihad advances on the rubble of the Post-Western Experiment, and the Post-Western Experiment needs formidable enemies (Al-Qaeda and ISIS being more credible than the much-maligned “Far Right”) to keep everyone in line. It’s not our hill to die on, on either side of it.

Rather, what we should do is put our Julius Evola for Dummies manuals down and start applying to ourselves the slogans we drew from them. We are Men Among the Ruins who endeavor to Ride the Tiger, right? Then let’s see today’s West as it really is, i.e. a heap of rubble in the midst of which we must survive and whose dangers we need to overcome to create an alternative future for ourselves. There will be many tribes struggling for survival in these here ruins. The time for preservation and grand alliances is over.

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Frozen

The balance demanded by modernity is between adopting enough symbols of traditional culture to appeal to a mass audience, but enough egalitarianism to be promoted by the media. And the most successful example of this delicate balance is the top grossing animated feature of all time–Disney’s Frozen.

Every little girl wants to be a princess. No little girl wants to be a feminist graduate student. The Eternal Enemy of Hierarchy can never be eliminated, only subverted. The balance demanded by modernity is between adopting enough symbols of traditional culture to appeal to a mass audience, but enough egalitarianism to be promoted by the media. And the most successful example of this delicate balance is the top grossing animated feature of all time–Disney’s Frozen.

Disney has always been Ground Zero for the Culture of Critique. Even though the company is easily one of the most destructive institutions in the country, it ultimately trades on its past as the symbol of “Main Street USA” Americana and even Western traditional culture. Grown men speak of the “magic” of the company’s theme parks; people spend their entire lives dreaming of wearing rubber costumes in stifling heat for low pay, just to be a part of the company. Despite it all–Disney endures. And for that reason, it’s a battleground.

The heart of this battle is over the “Disney Princesses,” the protagonists of the classic tales that revolve around royalty, heroism, and true love with a handsome prince. Needless to say, even the term inspires rage among feminists, but where there is demand, there will be supply. As a kind of quasi-public brand in its own right, Disney responded to the zeitgeist by trying to “diversify” the mostly European Princesses, notably with the black heroine of The Princess and the Frog. Though it was a mild success, “Princess” Tiana never quite captured the imagination of little girls like Cinderella or Snow White. Another non-white Princess, the soldierly Mulan, can only be called a “princess” with an asterisk.  

Frozen tries a different tact–and succeeds with a brilliant head fake. Instead of another affirmative action Princess, Frozen goes full Hyperborean. The story is loosely based on the Danish tale of the “Snow Queen” and takes place in the fictional land of Arendelle, inspired by Joan of Arc.  Furthermore, neoreactionaries should celebrate, as Arendelle seems so committed to the monarchial principle that all political power is transferred not just from one royal family member to another as circumstances demand, but even to royals from other nations without even the discussion of a domestic legislature. It’s good to be the Snow Queen.

Now that Frozen has been thoroughly celebrated by the feminist friendly media, it’s odd to recall the sputtering rage it initially inspired. When the blond Queen Elsa was revealed, angry feminists took to Tumblr to create amateurish and repulsive “ethnic” princesses with the hashtag #ThisCouldHaveBeenFrozen. If it had been, I daresay Frozen would have had fewer viewers than recent seasons of The Simpsons.  

The flabby feminist failures and their cheese doodle covered keyboard crusading were still duly enabled by the media. Margot Magowan aka “Reel Girl” pitched a hissy fit republished by Jezebel before the movie even came out, protesting the inclusion of a “mountain man” character (Kristoff, who is hardly an overweening male presence) among other grievances. And a Disney animator’s casual remark that animating females was harder than males because of the need to keep them “pretty” unleashed the kind of feminist wailing only seen when the Duggars have another baby.

Therefore, the film’s success in a PC culture is a stunning marketing accomplishment, the media equivalent of BET suddenly endorsing Mitt Romney. Frozen accomplishes this with one weird trick–it pulls a fast one on the audience to transform the “handsome prince” into the villain of the movie.

Let’s look at the plot for those who are unfamiliar. Elsa has the power to control ice and snow. She is close with her sister growing up until she accidentally injures her with her powers. Anna is healed by magic trolls, who warn Elsa of the “great danger” of her magic. Her fearful parents tell her to “conceal, don’t feel” the power and lock up the castle, but they die in a shipwreck, leaving the girls essentially alone. Years later, during her coronation, Queen Elsa loses control of her powers, reveals herself to the people as a sorcerous “monster,” and unknowingly plunges her kingdom into eternal winter. Anna’s mission is to bring Elsa back and free the kingdom from its frozen fate.

Anna also is driven by her desire to be open to the world and find true love. With her memory of Elsa’s powers (and Anna’s near death at her hands) magically removed, Anna never understood why she was always cut off from her kingdom and ordinary human contact. Thus, when the gates are finally opened, she falls for the handsome foreign prince Hans, becoming engaged to him the very night they meet. During the kingdom’s crisis, Hans takes charge in Anna’s absence (because apparently that’s how the constitution works here), distributing cloaks to the people, rebutting foreign leaders who want to steal the country’s resources, and leading dangerous rescue efforts. Eventually, Elsa is captured, but not before accidentally “freezing” Anna’s heart, putting her in danger of death unless she can be saved by an act of “true love.”

Anna turns to her handsome prince and explains a kiss from her true love will save her life–only to be told brutally “if only there was someone who loved you.” Surprise, suckers!

Hans has been playing her from the beginning–as the 13th son of another kingdom, he’s planning to usurp the throne of Arendelle to finally taste power on his own. With Elsa in chains and his “wife” Anna dying, Hans will control the kingdom. The abrupt volte-face would be called clumsy in a soap opera, but cloaked in politically correct messaging, it is hailed as subversive and brilliant. “Finally, a Disney Prince Who’s a Disingenuous Dickweed” shriek the clickbait commissars at Jezebel, preening that “this is the direction we should be headed, rather than risk over-romanticizing the very flawed past.”

Other glorious triumphs?

  • Queen Elsa is alone at the end of the movie, instead of marrying a prince. Elsa can be a cat lady with magic powers–just like every feminist’s dream.
  • When Elsa escapes the powers and fully embraces her powers in the soaring “Let It Go,” The Daily Beast’s Melissa Leon squees, “she lets her hair down, shimmies her hips, and puffs out her chest. Here she is powerful, independent of the male gaze.” Well, not entirely.
  • Anna eventually does end up with a man–the hapless Kristoff, who far from being a “mountain man” is a hapless beta, meekly asks permission to kiss her, and is even mocked as a “fixer upper” with “unmanly blondness” by the trolls who serve as his family.

At the climax, Anna is dying unless she can get her act of “true love.” We see Kristoff coming to save her and the audience follows his death defying race against time. But Kristoff never gets close enough to save Anna–the dying Anna actually sacrifices herself to save Elsa from the evil Hans. This was interpreted as Anna “choosing” her sister over a man.

Is this explanation what the movie is going for? Yes–it is a deliberate fake-out, as the audience follows Kristoff only for him to be rendered irrelevant and stand around uselessly. But what’s actually happening is not Anna choosing Elsa over Kristoff, but Anna choosing Elsa over herself. She sacrifices her own life to save Elsa, and, through this sacrifice, warms her own frozen heart and ironically saves her own life. This isn’t some new bold feminist creativity–it’s the end of the Keanu Reeves movie Constantine. In pure plot terms, the feminist reading isn’t as present as the traditional Western motif of self-sacrifice.

The triumphant song “Let It Go” is being hailed from everything as an anthem of gay liberation to girl power, but the plot undermines this interpretation as well. Elsa may be unleashing her power–but it’s a complete disaster for everyone involved, including her. She has unknowingly doomed her kingdom and her subjects, she manages to endanger her sister’s life (again), and she’s simply hiding from her problems instead of overcoming them. Of course, she can’t really be blamed for this–she is only just emerging from years of grief and isolation. “Let It Go,” is, after all, in the middle of the movie, before the main plot mover of Anna’s quest to find her “true love” even really begins. But is the “liberated” Elsa who sics a murderous snow golem on her own little sister some great hero to celebrate?

In the end, the way Elsa learns to control her power is through “love.” Suddenly, in a kind of PC version of the deus ex machina, Elsa instantly becomes a beloved ruler who effortlessly fires off snow magic whenever she wants to the delight of her adoring subjects, none of whom seem especially upset she nearly killed them all. Anna gets with Kristoff and gives him a new sled–so we know who is wearing the pants in this relationship. Oh yeah, there’s also a funny sidekick snowman named Olaf who is sentient somehow, because, you know magic or something. (Merchandising, cough, cough.)

Call it Disney meets Alinsky. The author of Rules for Radicals advised his acolytes to associate their ideas with traditional symbols like the American flag, knowing that the average person would always confuse the form for the substance. Frozen has Nordic princesses, extreme royal absolutism (of a form never really seen in Northern Europe), adoring subjects fawning over the “beauty” of their leaders, and nobles with magic powers. It sucks in audiences with the appeal of Tradition, and then undermines it.

But it’s not quite that simple. As feminist Dani Coleman notes in a sophisticated review, the “subversion” of the “Traditional” Disney narrative has been done before – many, many times. “No Disney heroine except Anna—even Ariel—has begun her story with love as her goal since 1959.” And plenty of other Disney Princesses actually showed real courage and the willingness to sacrifice, taking charge of their own destinies.

The feminist “subversion” is overstated, as Anna and Elsa careen wildly from disaster to disaster because of their own “vapid, brainless, impulsive and flighty characters whose agency is stolen from them for the sake of comedy and wafer-thin plot contrivances.” To put it another way, to say Frozen is a big deal for “strong women characters” is like pretending it’s a big deal when a black man is elected mayor of a city, or that two men walked down a street in San Francisco holding hands. It’s been done before. And the women don’t really act to save the day–they create problems of their own making, problems instantly cured at the end through pabulum given some kind of magical power.

Yet there is still something subverted here, unrecognized by most critics because it’s long since vanished from our culture. That something is real family. The “true love” between the sisters Elsa and Anna is worthy enough, but it is only achieved after a vast amount of unnecessary suffering due to their own emotional chaos and impulsive decisions. Elsa (aged 21) and Anna (aged 18) act like girls, not women, let alone strong ones. The feminist high fiving that they don’t need men misses the point that it is precisely the lack of a man that has caused all the chaos in their lives–not a husband or lover, but a father.

Early in the film, we are given a cursory introduction to Elsa and Anna’s father and mother, the King and Queen. All things being considered, they react with steady nerves and compassion when Elsa almost kills her baby sister. While it is true they tell Elsa to control and conceal her power, it is worth noting that they don’t tell her to deny it. They simply recognize there is danger, as well as beauty. They aren’t ashamed of Elsa, they want to protect her, and her father expresses his confidence that his daughter can learn to control her growing power.  

God knows it’s not unusual for parents to die in a Disney movie. However, the struggle of the protagonist usually revolves about learning about his or her place in the world, accepting the responsibilities of adulthood, and symbolically replacing the parent as a leader in his or her own right, like Simba avenging his murdered father, taking his place as king, and becoming a father himself.

Here, the parents die so abruptly we never really get a sense of their relationship with their children. Moreover, there’s no transitional mentor for the children to learn from and bridge the gap from little girl to woman (let alone child to sovereign). This seems especially strange when Elsa is isolated from her kingdom for years and then is suddenly made absolute ruler. Who the hell was running the country while she was cooped up?

In one scene, a nervous Elsa prepares for her coronation and looks up nervously at a portrait of her kingly father, who, as some have noted, looks like a young Walt Disney. Just like all Disney products are ultimately in the shadow of w
hat the dead founder created, Elsa is trapped by the requirements of her royal role, even though the source is dead and buried. Not through his own fault, her father failed her by his absence, unable to return home, and manage her transition into adulthood. Perhaps he would have seen the folly of assuming she would automatically control her powers, or returned to the trolls for guidance. Instead, Elsa is left alone, and she instantly transitions from being sheltered and protected to flaunting her power in destructive ways out of a combination of fear, pride, and ignorance.

If we accept the metaphor of sexuality, the role of a daughter’s father is to protect her from the physical or emotional predations of other men (the Hans’s of the world) until the daughter can be “given away” to a man worthy of her. This concept survives in the traditional wedding ceremony. Knowing that your “little girl” is a woman can be painful to protective fathers but it doesn’t sever the bond between father and daughter, it merely changes its form. As Coleman observes (though not in this context), Ariel’s last line in The Little Mermaid is “I love you, Daddy.”

Mothers also have an important role to play. They have to educate their daughter as to what it means to be woman and to understand the power–and danger–of female sexuality. If left on their own, girls can either be terrified of sexuality or impulsively act out, leading to disaster. This is precisely what happens to Elsa, and, to a lesser extent, to Anna. And in a far, far more extreme way, it is what happened to the broken women of the modern West.

Screenwriter and director Jennifer Lee (product of divorce, divorced herself, naturally) may or may not have intended this message, but a Traditionalist viewing of Frozen isn’t about feminism or patriarchy. It’s about the gap left by the absence of family, a gap we see throughout the West. With so many marriages ending in divorce, mothers and fathers refusing to let go of youthful illusions, and, most critically, the patriarchal and matriarchal roles largely abandoned to media, schools, and pop culture, Western youth are left adrift. Instead of extended family or churches plugging the gaps in cases of death or misfortune, the larger culture actually encourages extended adolescence, with the resulting collateral damage all around us. In lieu of real family, we get a “Modern Family” of egalitarian cheerleading and faux loyalty dependent on abstractions and mutual comfort rather than a primal sense of duty to blood and kin.

In Frozen, we get a happy ending because the movie magically whisks away (quite literally) all problems. In our culture, we get an embarrassing wreck of a society. The forms of a real culture may remain – we still call things “marriage,” “families,” or “nations,” but the essence has departed. And what’s left behind are not extraordinary people commanding the forces of nature, but superfluous, deracinated individuals whose only power is to eradicate what remnants remain. But as the success of Frozen shows, even the most degraded has to look up–at least so they know what to tear down.

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Who Will Swing the Blade?

When the state puts a man to death, it is only because he decided to go to court and wait to be murdered on schedule instead of making a run for it and being gunned down in the street. For some reason, we don’t call that “execution,” and there are only protesters, riots, looting, and moral showboating when the color combination of cops and executed civilians can be whipped up by media race hustlers into something beyond nervous cops going Judge Dredd on uncooperative suspects.

In a dissenting opinion, U.S. 9th Circuit Court Chief Judge Alex Kozinski recently wrote, “If we as a society want to carry out executions, we should be willing to face the fact that the state is committing a horrendous brutality on our behalf.” After musing about the reliability and effectiveness of the guillotine, he added, “If we as a society cannot stomach the splatter from an execution carried out by a firing squad, then we shouldn’t be carrying out executions at all.”

After several torturously botched lethal injections made the news, Americans have been talking about the death penalty again. Kozinski’s call for firing squads will get a “Damn right!” response from couch-riding cowboys everywhere.

There’s something Johnny Cash about a good old fashioned firing squad or a hanging. And Kozinski is probably right — a firing squad would be quicker, surer and at the same time remind the public that the state is killing on their behalf, and not just “putting someone to sleep” like a benevolent bureaucracy of merciful veterinarians.

I don’t object to the idea of men killing other men, especially if they’re doing it to protect their loved ones or weaker members of their tribe from harm. Violence is golden. If you aren’t willing to use violence to show that you mean business, you deserve to be ruled by a group of men who will. Laws are meaningless without the threat of violence, up to and including murder, and when the police “escort” a criminal to jail, he only goes because they are threatening to murder him if he doesn’t. When it comes right down to it, everyone in prison is being threatened with murder, every day. When the state puts a man to death, it is only because he decided to go to court and wait to be murdered on schedule instead of making a run for it and being gunned down in the street. For some reason, we don’t call that “execution,” and there are only protesters, riots, looting, and moral showboating when the color combination of cops and executed civilians can be whipped up by media race hustlers into something beyond nervous cops going Judge Dredd on uncooperative suspects.

Two things do bother me about state executions, and state violence generally.

The first is the legitimacy of state “justice.”

America has the largest per capita prison population in the world. Some of it is even run for profit, which obviously incentivizes incarceration and gets palms greased in some way at every level. Prosecutors advance their careers by demonstrating high conviction rates. Prosecutorial misconduct has been described even by the New York Times as “rampant” and studies have shown that misconduct is almost never punished — even when the accused are later exonerated in part or wholly because the prosecutors had been caught lying or withholding important information from defense lawyers. Harsh mandatory sentences mean plea deals have become the norm in most places, with the accused confessing to crimes they may or may not have committed simply because they know that if they lose a trial they’ll be locked away for decades. Losing or winning a trial may well come down to how good of a defense you can afford — or how much the prosecution is willing to lie or manipulate evidence to get a conviction.

“Justice” may have nothing to do with it.

It’s not that justice never happens, that police never catch true “bad guys,” or that people whose actions are absolutely impossible to defend — serial rapists and psychopaths — aren’t better off behind bars or dead.

It’s just that in America’s increasingly byzantine and often arbitrary system of laws, hundreds of thousands of people who aren’t serial rapists or murderers — perpetrators of victimless crimes who aren’t any worse than the rest of us — often end up in jail with them. Supposedly, 86% of the people doing time in Federal prisons are there for victimless crimes.

It’s easy to say, “let’s get tough on criminals,” but as one author wrote, the average person commits “three felonies a day.” People aren’t necessarily going to jail for being “bad people,” so much that they are going to jail for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It’s like we’re on the old Spartan agoge system where you’re expected to steal, but beaten for getting caught.

All those times you were speeding but didn’t get a ticket, the time you drove after two drinks instead of one, that season of Game of Thrones you torrented, the income you didn’t report, the girl who agreed that you didn’t “rape” her after her hangover wore off, the fistfight no one prosecuted, that illegal drug you bought in college, that time you did something you were supposed to have a license to do even though you didn’t know it. Maybe you did something I didn’t list, but you know what you did. You’re guilty. You could have been prosecuted and possibly convicted as a felon, but you weren’t. Because you were lucky. Because you didn’t get caught.

You’re a “free range” criminal. For now.

Sure, none of those things are death penalty offenses. But the fact that everyone is breaking laws every single day while people are being selectively prosecuted and punished by “luck of the draw” because there are so many petty laws and no way to punish everyone undermines the credibility of the whole system. And, if you got snatched up by the kiddie claw crane of the police state and found yourself doing a 10-15 year stretch in a prison run by gangs, maybe you’d end up a murderer, too.

Encouraging formal state execution assumes that the American legal system is credible, just, and expresses the will of the American people. Americans are no longer a “people,” but a sprawling population of different people with different races, cultures, and values inhabiting an oversized economic territory. America’s legal system is, at least generally speaking, broken and corrupt from street cop to senator. Cheerleading for formal state executions under these circumstances is lunacy. The “sanctity of life” has nothing to do with it. The American government simply does not deserve that kind of trust. It has the physical authority to do what it wants because it has the largest, most well-armed and well-coordinated group of enforcers within its territory, but I’m certainly not going to give it my mandate, allegiance or moral blessing.

Speaking of cheerleading and madness, mulling over the idea of state execution got me thinking about proxy violence in general.

It’s a little perverse, isn’t it?

Again, not because violence itself is perverse. I can’t think of anything that seems more just or natural than, say, a father killing — even torturing — a man who molested or murdered his child. And, if he’s not physically able to do it, asking a good man with a talent for violence to act in his place seems reasonable. A coalition of men acting together to right some injustice and enforce tribal order — that sounds healthy and right.

But people demanding the blood of strangers? It’s vulgar, low, and weak. Civilized in the worst possible way, like picnicking at a beheading or showing up early to see someone disemboweled at the coliseum. Saying “we ought to be tough on crime” isn’t the same as doing the dirty work yourself. It doesn’t make you a tough guy. It’s like yelling at quarterbacks on TV, only in this case it’s yelling at miserable low-level government functionaries to push the button. It’s vicarious bloodlust.

“Get him! Kill him! Yeah, you show him!”

I agree with Kozinski that if people can’t stomach the bloody reality of what they are doing, then they shouldn’t be demanding it or supporting it.

If they televised executions, though, I wonder how many people would develop a taste for it. It’s happened before, and while they are often denied even the real-life violence of a schoolyard fistfight, Americans love vicarious violence in entertainment. It’s the only violence they’re allowed. As they progressively relinquish power over their own lives, this illusory power by proxy may seem even more attractive, and their handlers may see it as a cheap circus. Dystopian novels and movies come to mind. Death Race 2000. Running Man.

When it comes to tribally authorized execution, I prefer the Ned Stark way.

Not the people passing it off to some jury of “peers” — who somehow have nothing to do for weeks on end — recommending it to some fat, self-righteous gavel-banger who passes it off to some corrections officer.

No, “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

It’s not exactly practical, but ways that seem right are rarely practical in the mess of modernity.

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When Starting the World Goes Wrong

It represents the faint beginnings of a cancer with the global liberal order, the playing out of internal contradictions that could ravage it from within. This discontent is borne more out of spiritual crisis than economic recession. The danger is that the Islamic State shows (with apologies to Dave Chapelle) what happens when starting the world goes wrong.

Barack Obama is now the fourth consecutive American President to order military action in Iraq. Once again, it seems we must “think of the children”–especially because this time, it seems they are decapitating them. Of course, after two decades of this, one is tempted to ask–so what else is new?

Well, what’s new is that America is not facing a “rogue state” refusing to play by the rules of George Bush I’s “New World Order.” Instead, a self-proclaimed Caliphate has arisen in the Levant, erasing boundaries between Iraq and Syria, seizing Iraq’s largest dam, and easily undoing whatever progress American forces made over the last decade holding the country together.

The breakdown of state power is startling to the Great and the Good, but not to those of us on the New Right who find both hope and dread in the warnings of William Lind and Martin van Crevald about the collapse of state power. Fourth Generation Warfare has already destroyed the Westphalian order in what is fashionably called the “birthplace of civilization.”

Indeed, it’s startling how utterly irrelevant states have become in the current wars. As Israel pulverizes Gaza, street protests are rocking the streets of Europe, as tribe fights Tribe in what is ostensibly the capital of the French. Meanwhile, the fabled “Arab street” seems largely quiet, as are Arab governments. As neoconservative Victor Davis Hanson accurately notes, many Arab states are, if anything, quiet supporters of Israel. Yet Israel still faces an existential demographic crisis that only grows worse even as it gradually strengthens its diplomatic position against former foes.

Meanwhile, while the “international community” can tweet and preen about freeing “Palestine,” far fewer seem to care when Sunni slaughters Shia, or vice versa. Tom Clancy predicted the rise of an Iranian dominated “United Islamic Republic” in Executive Orders that would drive for the Middle Eastern oil fields.  (It’s a mildly uncomfortable coincidence that a subplot in the book was an Ebola outbreak in the United States.) Clancy’s fiction errs only in that that it is the Sunnis of Iraq and Syria who have raised the black banner of Islamic unity and resistance to what they see as Alawite and Shia occupation. Ironically, it’s the forces of Hezbollah and the elite troops of the Islamic Republic of Iran that are the most active in fighting the Caliphate on the ground. A civil war within Islam akin to the Catholic/Orthodox slaughter of the Fourth Crusade is raging before our eyes.

This has led to some speculation that the “Islamic State” is actually a tool of American policy, keeping the Muslims at each other’s throats instead of Israel’s. It seems more likely that, as with Israel and Hamas, the foreign policy experts created a golem they can no longer control. Bashar al-Assad (and his lovely wife) told you so, you bloody fools.

But this goes beyond geopolitics. It represents the faint beginnings of a cancer with the global liberal order, the playing out of internal contradictions that could ravage it from within. This discontent is borne more out of spiritual crisis than economic recession. The danger is that the Islamic State shows (with apologies to Dave Chappelle) what happens when starting the world goes wrong.

It’s hard to imagine the Caliphate ever making the transition to a recognized state. However, unlike Osama bin Laden, the Islamic State has succeeded in creating a global brand that appeals to disaffected Sunnis throughout the world, including those in the West. Even women are joining the group – and we all await Jezebel to tell us what they really want is subsidized birth control and more female role models in comic books.

Of more concern, “Western” Muslims have been fighting for the Caliphate, providing propaganda for their brothers and clickbait fodder for the likes of the Daily Mail. For example, one “Abu Muslim,” a Canadian, went to fight for his god and was “martyred,” giving his Caliphate a new hero. Similarly, Muslims that outwardly resemble hipsters and used to post workout videos on YouTube now spend their days on the streets of Syria riding horses and waving scimitars. Naturally, this comes as a great surprise to all of us who know that “Islam means peace.”

What these Islamic warriors are fighting for is not just a Caliphate but something beyond what liberal democracy offers. It is the pursuit of the Greater Jihad through the Lesser Jihad. Unfortunately for us, Muslim culture offers an eternal and immediately available alternative to modernity. The great danger of non-White mass immigration–or what should be called settler colonialism–is the regression to the mean, both in intelligence and in culture. Even if a largely professional and secular Muslim goes to the West to become a wannabe SWPL, his sons will seek a return to their roots. Whether a rich Muslim turns his back on privilege or a poor one blames the kafir for his low status, the “root cause” of terrorism and extremism is something our ancestors already knew–Blood Tells.

What, after all, does the West–or modernity–offer people? While Fukuyama contends that it satisfies thymos, the desire for recognition, those who live under the postwar Western peace grow less worthy of dignity the more they talk about it. Worse, they know this. Ultimately, this leads to an internalized self-loathing, which modern man resolves in one of three ways.

  1. Pursuit of ever more elaborate forms of equality and revolt against nature (STIHIE)
  2. Consumerism, the political defense of consumerism, or a socially approved consumerist escapism (fandom, cosplay, video games, etc.)
  3. Rebellion – what Jack Donovan has called withdrawing consent in order to destroy the world modernity has created, and start a new one.  If enough people do this, it leads to what Dugin called “shov[ing] the people into the sweet process of creating history.”

What separates starting the world from LARPing? The answer is danger. To borrow from Hegel, the difference between the lord and the slave is the former risks his life and safety for the sake of honor. Modern men are slaves because they define themselves by their intense desire for safety, comfort, and self-gratification. As even movies like Wall-E point out, if human beings are simply transformed into perfectly safe consumers, they are no longer really human–and they certainly don’t have any dignity.

The result is the “elite” of modern society in culture, politics, and (with some exceptions) economics have no obvious justification for their right of lordship. Americans love to read celebrity magazines to be titillated by their betters, but no one is ennobled by them. The more degraded someone is, the more our society seems to reward them. Thus, in some ways, a culture of desperate sincerity–even a monstrous one–will always seem preferable at some level to what we have now. As South Park put it just after 9/11:

Kyle — Do you really think your civilization is better than ours?! You people play games by killing animals, and oppress women!

Afghan boy — It’s better than a civilization that spends its time watching millionaires walk down the red carpet at the Emmys!

Stan – (After a pause) …He’s got us there, dude.

Of course, liberal capitalism specializes in assimilating and commodifying rebellion. A revolt against the system usually just transforms into just another business opportunity. However, there are exceptions.

As the late Jonathan Bowden noted, the two forces completely unassimilable by modernity are the far right and religious fundamentalism. And the modern West only seems able to enthusiastically oppose political and religious extremism that is somehow identified as “pro-White” or “pro-Christian.” Militant Islam always needs to be “explained,” unlike, say, neo-fascism, which is always described as a “plague” or a “disease” that needs to be “crushed.”

Obviously, Muslim immigration into the West is more of a symptom than a cause of Western decline. In and of itself, it is powerless. But it is amazingly persistent and will move to fill a void. And the West is a spiritual void.

For proof, one only has to compare the response of Pope Urban II to Muslim aggression:

From the confines of Jerusalem and the city of Constantinople a horrible tale has gone forth and very frequently has been brought to our ears, namely, that a race from the kingdom of the Persians, an accursed race, a race utterly alienated from God, a generation forsooth which has not directed its heart and has not entrusted its spirit to God, has invaded the lands of those Christians and has depopulated them by the sword, pillage and fire; it has led away a part of the captives into its own country, and a part it has destroyed by cruel tortures; it has either entirely destroyed the churches of God or appropriated them for the rites of its own religion…

Let the deeds of your ancestors move you and incite your minds to manly achievements; the glory and greatness of king Charles the Great, and of his son Louis, and of your other kings, who have destroyed the kingdoms of the pagans, and have extended in these lands the territory of the holy church. Let the holy sepulchre of the Lord our Saviour, which is possessed by unclean nations, especially incite you, and the holy places which are now treated with ignominy and irreverently polluted with their filthiness. Oh, most valiant soldiers and descendants of invincible ancestors, be not degenerate, but recall the valor of your progenitors.

To the pathetic, dishwatery mewlings of the current Spiritual Bolshevik-in-Chief on the extermination of Middle Eastern Christianity:

“Never war, never war,” [Pope Francis] said. “I am thinking, above all, of children who are deprived of the hope of a worthwhile life, a future. Dead children, wounded children, mutilated children, orphaned children, children whose toys are things left over from war, children who don’t know how to smile.” This was the moment when the tears came. “Please stop,” said Francis. “I ask you with all my heart, it’s time to stop. Stop, please!”

Yeah, that’ll do it. A far cry from Deus vult!

The West defines itself by tolerance, human rights, consumption, “freedom,” and phony religion that reinforces these decrepit values. It also only expresses its opposition to “militant Islam” in these terms. The result is that the West creates its own existential opposition from within.

When confronted with meaninglessness, with modernity, with either great wealth or the lack of it, there will always be temptation to assert oneself as more than a Last Man through Jihad in any place where there is a sizable Islamic population. After all, what could be more adventurous than re-establishing a Caliphate, leading the conquest of ancient cities, and creating a new world through the sword as the Companions of the Prophet did?  Better to live by the scimitar for one day, thinks the terrorist, than die slowly in a cubicle.

The fact that Islam is still seen as non-White and non-Western will always lend it that fashionable cachet forever denied to neo-fascism or Christian fundamentalism. In its way, modern Jihad is Riding the Tiger of Western decadence. And what’s more archaeo-futurist than getting likes for displaying the severed heads of your enemies on Facebook?

Moreover, while the horror of crucifixions, beheadings, and mass executions is real, Western governments have handicapped themselves in trying to muster outrage. It’s hard to act self-righteous when one only has to recall former Secretary of State Madeline Albright saying that indirectly taking the lives of half a million Iraqi children is “worth it” if it means removing Saddam Hussein. (And man, wouldn’t we love to have him back?)

Of course, at its essence, the cause of the Caliphate is despicable. What the Islamic State offers is a kind of Borg society that destroys priceless architectural treasures, subordinates real identity with a stale and abstract creed, and imposes a cultureless rule of unescapable mediocrity far worse than even that decreed by liberalism.

What is most chilling is not the beheadings or mass graves –we see that south of our own border in Mexico’s brutal drug war. What is worst are those robotic, almost blasé calls of the Takbir that accompany actions both murderous and mundane.  As Churchill said:

How dreadful are the curses which Mohammedanism lays on its votaries!
Besides the fanatical frenzy, which is as dangerous in a man as hydrophobia
in a dog, there is this fearful fatalistic apathy. The effects are apparent in many
countries, improvident habits, slovenly systems of agriculture, sluggish methods
of commerce and insecurity of property exist wherever the followers of the
Prophet rule or live.  A degraded sensualism deprives this life of its grace and
refinement, the next of its dignity and sanctity…Individual Moslems may show splendid qualities, but the influence of the religion paralyzes the social development of those who follow it.

And the British government arrested Liberty GB leader Paul Weston for quoting it.

The fact that people are choosing this over the Lockean shopping mall bodes ill for the End of History. Someone is going to start the world. We had better make sure it’s us.

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Blue Sunshine

Something I have pondered for a very long time is to what extent the so-called “Goth,” Industrial, post-punk, EBM and synth-pop scenes are implicitly—or even at times explicitly—exclusionary on a racial basis.

 

THE WHITENESS OF GOTH

In “Psychology and White-Ethnocentrism,” Kevin MacDonald discusses groups he calls “implicitly exclusionary” on race, and explores how these groups may be used to foster greater community among Whites. Examples he gives include NASCAR, Country and Western Music, and—somewhat ironically—the GOP. He writes how such groups intuitively segregate themselves, but dare not to mention what they are. In these “implicitly exclusionary” social groups, Whites often outwardly entertain leftist ideas about multiculturalism and diversity, but remain strikingly racialist on an intuitive, instinctual level, both because of evolutionary psychology and because of repeated observations of society, social interaction, and different ethnic groups.

Precisely because such social groups are “impotent in [effectively] opposing the forces that are changing the country in ways that oppose [our] long-term interest,” these implicit White communities are simply “enclaves of retreating Whites rather than communities able to consciously pursue White interests”—that is unless and until these groups blossom into a more “explicit White culture legitimizing White interests.”

Something I have pondered for a very long time is to what extent the so-called “Goth,” Industrial, post-punk, EBM and synth-pop scenes are implicitly—or even at times explicitly—exclusionary on a racial basis.

Having listened to a variety of different artists and subgenres that fit in this larger cultural rubric for over 25 years now, I have outgrown this “scene” only to some small, limited extent. I love this music to this day, although I am far more selective of many of the later artists and subgenres. Admittedly, I have not adhered to the more outlandish fashion statements in a very long time. I usually wear black slacks, black dress-boots, and a dress shirt of some sort. In the summer time, I wear t-shirts or polos. Having also taking to weight-lifting for many years, I stand in stark contrast to many of the men in the “scene” who are underweight, and often times overtly androgynous.

Despite the modest ambivalence towards the scene that has increased with age, a cursory review of this scene and its history indicates this “implicit exclusion” seems to be its very hallmark. Go to any goth, alternative, industrial, or EBM venue, and you will see that 95 percent of the patrons are lily White. Most all of the artists are too, with the majority hailing from Europe. Several persons I have met at these venues or interacted with online are expressly racialist. One woman I know of in Seattle, who used to work as a Dominatrix, is a bona fide true believer. There are countless others.

At the most basic level, the attraction to this music and this scene, which almost invariably takes hold during early adolescence, stems from an instinctual desire to reject the status quo of the modern world. This desire seems to stem from the existential ennui that modern life, rootless bland, and often quite vulgar, can afflict on the more sensitive among us. It was not long after my purchase of Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me in the seventh grade that I learned that Robert Smith of The Cure was lauded by one critic as ”the thinking teen’s pinup.” In “Paint a Vulgar Picture,” Morrissey laments, in his characteristically sullen and melancholy fashion, “What makes most people feel happy /Leads us headlong into harm.” Indeed, outside of perhaps some of the later martial-industrial and aggrotech works discussed later, one cannot imagine a better antithesis to “Me So Horny,” “O.P.P., (Yeah You Know Me)” or “Fuck tha Police” than the Cocteau Twins romantic anthem “Love’s Easy Tears,” or “Marian” by Sisters of Mercy, or even the commercially successful “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure.

This basic rejection of modern life, in America as well as post war Europe, among the goth-alternative set is further signified in its unstated dress-code, when that code is distilled to its most basic, rudimentary essence. Rather than sneakers, jeans, sweatshirt or tshirt and a baseball cap, which loosely signify affinity for rap and mainstream American culture, men’s attire is basically boiled down to some variation of black leather shoes, either quasi dress shoes or Doc Marten style boots, black pants and, if not a tshirt featuring a favored band, some sort of dress shirt with a black wool coat or leather jacket. Indeed, Ian Curtis and other members of Joy Division dressed quite similar to their fathers and grandfathers.

Joy Division Joy Division

The lady counterpart, not usually wearing black pants, often wears a dress or skirt sometimes, very often quite frilly and effeminate, often matched with black nylon or other stockings: all in such a way that harkens back to times past. In many cases the lady, more than her male counterpart, embraces a sort of neo-Victorian or neo-Romantic aesthetic. Admittedly, many folks, particularly during younger, more formative years, sport aggressive piercings, outlandish eye and facial makeup, as well as, in some instances, very risqué, revealing attire that at times is best described as “fetish gear,” sometimes even for the gents. And yet at the most basic, intrinsic level, the attire—in principle—is a throwback to greater times of greater formality and decorum than is seen in an age where cargo shorts and sneakers are the often the norm.

In conjunction with this aesthetic and this code of style, almost all of the musicians that compromise the many variations and sub genres of this subculture hail from Europe. Many artists, from Joy Division to Sisters of Mercy, from Das Ich to the Virgin Prunes, tackle deep, heavy subject matter that has been the hallmark of Western Culture for centuries. In a very profound way, they are an important continuation of this Western tradition. Among many other excellent works, with masterpieces such as Trees in Winter by Sol Invictus, The Corn Years by Death in June, The Moon Looked Down and Laughed by the Virgin Prunes, First Last and Always by the Sisters of Mercy as just a few of some very honorable mentions, two albums in particular hold their own against the greatest poets, writers and artists of our civilization, at least in terms of lyrical content: Closer by Joy Division and Pornography by The Cure.

A quick review of my favorite songs among two truly extraordinary albums that never cease to captivate or inspire, from start to finish, reveal a wide array of deep, heavy subject matter: “Means to an End” touching upon feelings of loss and ultimate betrayal from the end of friendship; “Atrocity Exhibition” and “Colony” exploring the dark, intrinsically brutal nature of humanity as seen throughout history; Robert Smith doggedly exploring the depths of lust, lost love and lost innocence in “Siamese Twins,” “Cold” and “Figurehead” and the existential dread, misery and ennui that invariably ensues; and songs like “Eternal,” and “Decades” on one hand and “One Hundred Years” and “Short Term Effect” together exploring the themes of the fleeting transience of youth and life itself, as well as the inescapable imminence of mortality and death. All deep, heavy themes entirely absent from most pop music, particularly from the likes of the aforementioned rap ditties talking about other people’s pussy and killing white cops. As a critical review of these masterpieces is beyond the scope of this article, readers who are not familiar with these two works can only be urged to introduce themselves to these two masterpieces that define this subculture.

To be sure, many of these artists have avowed leftist sentiments, some of them explicitly disavowing any racialist message or undertone, just as MacDonald describes in the difference between the conflicting explicit and implicit views about race in most Whites today. Despite that, the music—which has been the foundation of this subculture and its many variations—is nevertheless at its very core a uniquely Eurocentric cultural expression; a cultural expression that stands in great contrast to a greater mainstream culture which has implicitly and explicitly marginalized European culture. Indeed, several artists, from the well-known Dead Can Dance to the far more obscure The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath a Cloud, to much of the Apocalyptic Folk subgenre, draw heavy influence from Classical and folk European traditions in music, replete with motifs concerning the Medieval age and other periods in European history.

As a blatant expression of European culture, many prominent artists among the various sub-genres use a uniquely European gestalt as part of their image, with many of the more attractive artists using their classical European features to advance a distinctly idealized image all their own. Perhaps the very God-mother of this subculture is Siouxsie Sioux herself, born Susan Ballion. Born with the natural beauty of an English Rose, she embraced her fair complexion and expressive blue eyes to become a cultural icon of the age. Her trademark eye makeup harkened back to many of the glamorous starlets of yesteryear, with a distinct homage to Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich.

Siouxsie Sioux Siouxsie Sioux

Patricia Morrison, of Sisters of Mercy fame among other acts, is another pale queen and goth vixen who champions this definitively European look and style.

Another more obscure, less celebrated figure is Constance Rudert of Germany. Embodying Germanic beauty and sex appeal, her alabaster skin, lovely long legs and her angelic visage with expressive blue eyes and lush full lips create a unique vision of European woman—and more particularly German womanhood—as the romantic and erotic ideal bar none.

Constance Rudert Constance Rudert

Many of the men similarly capitalize on such distinctly European features, from Ian McCulloch, to Andrew Eldritch, VNV Nation and Funker Vogt, to Morrissey himself, who of course caused a bit of controversy by expressing concern that “immigration was washing the face of Britain away.”

These images, these looks, comprised of distinctly European traits and a distinctly European sense of style, in their own way provide a source of inspiration to millions of people of European descent. Whereas rap and hip hop artists and other sorts of degenerates convey a decidedly negative role model for youth, this sense of style, thoroughly European in its essence, offers a unique vision for youth and adults alike to which they can both aspire and relate to.

Going beyond this implicit and yet still quite blatant European identity of almost all musicians and subgenres that comprise this subculture, some bands—particularly industrial and aggrotech subgenres, as well as the more notorious apocalyptic folk subgenre—convey messages as well as imagery that, although only at times explicitly racialist, embrace a sort of fascist aesthetic that signals this very “implicit racial exclusion” in unparalleled fashion. One of my all-time favorites, Feindflug exudes these fearsome qualities, with many explicit references to the Third Reich in imagery and sound samples. While also indulging in far fewer Soviet themed images, the overall impression of Feindflug, in both sight and sound, is strikingly Germanic, but also militaristic, energetic, and even tribalistic.

Having seen them at the Kinetik Festival in Montreal in their only North American appearance so far, this author can attest to this first hand. Performing “Stukas im Visier” in front of historical footage of Stukas in action, including one scene zooming in on the swastika on one of the plane’s tails, the boys of Feindflug, while certainly never endorsing or condoning some of the more unfortunate Reich policies, at least seem proud of their nation’s military history and tradition. Of course, in tandem with another song critical of the death penalty as implemented in the United States, there were also clips of blacks being brutalized and executed by the US criminal justice system. What I took from it was a criticism of the hypocrisy of the United States, as if to ask: who are you Americans to criticize us? But I digress.

Although not nearly as controversial as Feindflug, another aggrotech act from Germany, Funker Vogt, also comes to mind. Most of their lyrics leave much to be desired lyrically, and yet, obviously written with less than perfect command of the English language, there is something uniquely Germanic about them, with a Teutonic charm all their own, particularly with the shouting, cookie-monster vocals in a German accent and bombastic electronics featuring layered, sophisticated percussion sets. Many of their lyrics touch upon issues of war and violence and destruction, in a mildly admonitory tone to those who bother to sit down and read them. Such mild, dubious anti war messages are more than muted however by the hyper-energetic and militaristic style of the music and the way Jens Keastel shouts into the microphone like an enraged staff sergeant, or at least as he used to in their early stuff. As a part of this overall trend of breaking politically correct norms and trends, some of Funker Vogt’s songs are deeply sympathetic to the German side in the aftermarth of World War II and the Cold War, such as Black Market Dealers and Cold War. “Vorwaerts!” Also has a bit of a Third Reich ring to it, reprising the refrain “Voerwarts,” a prominent motif in marching songs and propaganda pieces of the period, such as Baldur von Schirach’s Hitlerjugend lied “Vorwärts! Vorwärts!”.“White Trash” also seems to be explicitly racially conscious.

Other bands with such motifs include Wappenbund, Der Blutharsch, Death in June, Boyd Rice, as well as early Sol Invcitus, as the suspected leanings politics of each of these save for the last have been hotly contested subjects for well over a decade or more. Also of note is the fare more obscure but excellent Above the Ruins (fronted by Tony Wakeford as a predecessor project to Sol Invictus) which had a Joy Division like sound set to themes of neo-Paganism and European nationalism. This was when Wakeford and friends were members of Britan’s National Front.
With the additional exception of the very obscure Wappenbund, Von Thronstahl, and Arditi among a few others, any fascist sympathies held by these and other artists is, as stated before, admittedly hotly debated. But the mere indulgence in such motifs without blatant and over the top disavowal breaks politically correct norms and taboos, and thus in many ways renders these cultural and artistic messages fair topic for discussion and debate.

And some select favorites do more than just dabble in disapproved images and lyrical content. A very obscure favorite of mine seems to do more than just tug at naughty allusions to fascist aesthetics; “Sons of God” by Arditi sets a salient sound sample taken from Hitler’s Mein Kampf to martial-industrial percussion and an almost Wagnerian synth-pop musical score.

Even more inspiring is this live rendition of “Jugend Marschiert” by Coinside of Hoyerswerda, a project in close association with Wappenbund.

With the title and refrain “Jugend Marschiert” (youth marches) itself a notorious slogan used quite often during the Third Reich and to a lesser extent the GRD, the song opens by addressing the Fatherland as “You land of the poet, you land of the thinker,” as they make explicit note of the fact that Germany is on the brink of no return, and rejects the prevailing rule of capitalism and liberal democracy in the current Bundesrepublik, specifically censuring how so many youths lose themselves in “television and consumption of drugs.” To counteract these trends the song implores the youth “to march forward as Dawn breaks,” to take a stand against “false leaders” who “do not stand us for,” promising a good future as indeed “all the powers of capitalism are no temptation to us.”

Of course the lyrics, let alone the bombastic, militaristic music style only form part of the milieu, as the dress and style of the strikingly homogenous crowd provide additional ambience to this most inspiring venue, not to mention other details such as the logo on the upper left corner featuring a Stahlhelm logo representing what was once adorned by the vaunted Wehrmacht.

These more overt, more militaristic cultural expressions demonstrate that, at least on the fringe, certain subgenres within this vast subculture are already becoming explicitly exclusionary, explicitly and blatantly nationalist, with lyrical content expressly addressing the Zeitgeist of Europe in the West as it languishes in decline and, if present course remains unabated, eventual fall.

This is not to suggest that such displays, so shocking to the ruling elites, are completely widespread or that the scene is not without its disadvantages. While far from a majority, homosexual and bisexual elements seem overrepresented a great deal in many venues, as is to a much greater extent, androgyny in men. Indeed, such venues are often fraught with sexual exhibitionism of one sort or another. Additionally, it is not uncommon to come across cross-dressers, transgenders, and other freaks at some of these venues. The documentary “Goth Cruise” featured a black male in the scene who would dress up as a woman. Most troublesome of all, I have seen a few interracial couples at these venues during my day, but still far less than in venues that cater to more mainstream culture.

Additionally, a lot of bands are quire libertine. Take for example the overt sexual themes of Die Form, whose lyrical content routinely delve into the depths of sexual deviancy and depravity and whose lyrics, as well as albums and live performances often explore motifs surrounding BDSM and other fetishes.

Beyond such examples of decadence in Die Form and many other artists besides, a lot of bands have expressed far-left sentiments, including unequivocal denouncements of National Socialism. Such artists include Das Ich, who have at expressed at times feelings of shame and war-guilt typical of far too many post-war Germans, such as in “Von der Armut.” Again however, this is exactly as MacDonald has described in his discussion between the current paradox of conflicting explicit and implicit views held by most whites today.

Of course, in many ways much of the sexual exhibitionism, decadence, and libertinism that can be so pervasive at times are in many ways a natural release stemming from the intrinsically dysfunctional nature of modern society, as part of a bid to live for today and suck the marrow from the bone of life while young and alive, for there is no afterlife. One on hand, like the rest of modern civilization, critics can contend that it suffers the same sort of radical individualism that bears all sorts of unpleasant consequences, from the societal ills stemming from the rise of single motherhood, lowered fertility rates, and so forth. In another sense, however, such libertinism in many ways embodies the neo-Pagan spirit, freeing itself from the dysfunctional prudery that has plagued Christianity, with even greater adverse affects in the unfortunate puritanical legacy that exists to this day in the States. Not to mention of course the radically inclusive universalism upon which Christianity is founded upon that partially explains why so many Whites are not more resistant to the tide of multiculturalism, the coming demographic crisis, and the assured annihilation that awaits if we continue to sit by and do nothing. In many ways, this tension between tendencies towards the romantic ideals of Europe’s past on one hand, and some of the more libertine elements on the other is simply a testament to our own complexity.

Despite some drawbacks, the scene, composed of so many different sub-genres and variations, is a net benefit to European culture, and remains an incredible subculture in which the Sons and Daughters of Europe can commune, have a few drinks, listen to good songs, make friends, and in some instances fall in love. It offers a surprisingly expansive and ever-growing palette of different sub-genres of music that, in all its many variations, is uniquely European in its identity, with at least some of the lyrics, album artwork, and stage presentations touching upon some of the greatest themes of European Culture. With the exception of Country music, which is actually only a White American phenomenon, rather than a European one, it is one of the only contemporary subcultures with a blatant European identity. Aside from offering a lot of good music that resonates with those estranged from an increasingly distasteful, vulgar and downright ugly world, the scene kindly offers a uniquely European artistic expression in a world otherwise deluded by the assorted band of miscreants and multi-culti mousketeers pushing an increasingly Afrocentric, mongrelized culture.

Indeed, we find ourselves in an age that has largely supplanted the blonde, Nordic ideal of starlets of yesteryear with a new, definitively multiracial or black “update” far more in tune with the prodding of the multi-culti delirium running rampant: a new multiracial, multicultural gestalt as personified by distinctly “ethnic” figures such as Kim Kardashian, Beyonce, and Jessica Alba. In this milieu supplanting the very faces of Europe in both overt and subtle fashion, sensibilities as those offered in this subculture, which are uniquely and unmistakably European in every way and indeed almost fetishize such exclusively European traits, is a welcome and necessary deviation and respite from the insanity of the modern age. Presently we languish in a bankrupt, vapid “culture” that dares to allow Jay-Z to present himself as a modern Frank Sinatra. A defiant, even deviant subculture deeply entrenched in our increasingly marginalized European cultural traditions offers a most welcome sanctuary indeed. In many ways, this dark wave could be the once and future voice of the Sons and Daughters of Europe in this era of imperial decline.

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Patriot Games

Nations are defined through war.  Phony nations are defined through phony war – namely sports.  And in a time devoid of meaning, a corporate spectacle with flags is the closest the modern world can come to providing most people with a sense of identity. 

Nations are defined through war.  Phony nations are defined through phony war – namely sports.  And in a time devoid of meaning, a corporate spectacle with flags is the closest the modern world can come to providing most people with a sense of identity.

Most nations are less a creation of peoples than a creation of armies.  The multinational, multilingual monarchies of the Middle Ages slowly transitioned into the national armies unleashed by the French Revolution, who were gathered by conscription to spill the “impure blood” of the foreigners. “Us” and “Them” were determined on the battlefield.

However, the postwar world saw the end of “blood and soil” nationalism in the West. Nations transformed into units of economic competition, vaguely linked by international finance and watery doctrines of “human rights.” Mass immigration further complicates the process, as citizenship no longer reveals anything about a person’s race, religion, cultural heritage, or even language.

Yet nationalism persists – largely because we have nothing else to fall back on. Race is socially unacceptable and religion (at least Christianity) is dead as an organizing force for society. And so even as it is unimaginable that European youth will soon be drafted and sent forth to fight for their country, a rudimentary patriotism is still required to link the masses in the developed world together in a more or less orderly fashion. The flag and some vague concept of “values” usually serves, but underneath, the ghosts of Blut und Boden still linger. And this needs an outlet.

Enter the World Cup. The players sing the anthem of their fatherlands, echoed by hundreds of thousands of screaming fans.  Fans dress in their national colors. The game itself has a kind of mythic quality (outside the United States anyway), as fans will casually speak of games that took place decades ago or even refer to a single incident (like Maradona’s “Hand of God” goal). Rivalries, heroes, and cultures develop in a dull echo of the warlike past.

Absent war, concepts such as “national honor” are identified with the outcome of soccer games.  Sometimes, it is almost equivalent to war, with Argentina’s victory over England in 1986 interpreted as “revenge” for the Falkland Islands.

Germany’s crushing 7-1 defeat of Brazil (with the Netherlands putting the boot in 3-0 in the third place game yesterday) is seen as a national disgrace in the host country. Pictures of Brazilian fans giving rise to guttural cries of despair and horror could be mistaken for something coming out of Gaza.

Of course, these nationalist impulses are smoothly sublimated into the global governing census.  The stadium is festooned with appeals to “Say No To Racism.” FIFA investigates fans for chants that cross the line into politically incorrect territory. And frankly, it’s a good thing they did not see the danger of “offensive” WWII humor on Twitter during Brazil vs. Germany – though the Parasitic Class is whining about that now too.

Many of the players from historic European nations are non-White. Some of the players on the American team have almost casual connections to the United States, and even the coach is a German who formerly represented his real country both as a player and as a coach. As with professional sports in America, most players have nothing to do with the community they are ostensibly representing racially, culturally, or even geographically. The pageantry and patriotism of a World Cup is equivalent to the usual penalty in the Beautiful Game – it’s a big showy fake.

The flag waving is consciously used as a way to reconcile the White West to making peace with demographic dispossession, and the need for “us” to “win” is used as justification to dilute identity. The tactic has already been used successfully with rugby in South Africa and college football in the American South.

After France won the World Cup in 1998, the heavily non-White team was used as an argument to promote more immigration into the Republic and portrayed as a triumph of assimilation. Today, American politicians such as Nancy Pelosi argue that we need immigrants – because otherwise, we would have a terrible soccer team.  And reporters attack the – as of yet –unassimilated nations of Eastern Europe where players still have something to do with the country, and their fans haven’t learned that patriotism is supposed to be ironic.

Faux patriotism is even used to keep countries together.  Spain’s World Cup victory in 2010 presented a problem for Catalonians who wanted independence.  Belgium, the soulless husk at the center of the European Union, uses its soccer team as a club to beat Flemish nationalists and promote the continued existence of the phony kingdom.  And the reason Brazil has been hit so hard by its soccer defeat is because soccer was all they had to show to the rest of the world.  The country is the very exemplar of the multiracial nightmare White advocates have been warning against for decades, plagued with crushing social divisions, crime and inequality.  No wonder they care so much about kicking a ball around.

And yet, even people who should know better fall for the appeal of faux nationalist pageantry.  Websites from around the racialist right rejoiced at the German defeat of Brazil, as if the Bundesrepublik of Merkel was still the Fatherland of Bismarck, or as if winning the game meant that Turks would have to leave.  White racialists can even tell themselves that soccer possesses a more “White” and European sensibility than American basketball, and therefore give themselves approval to identify with certain teams.

Despite it all, faux nationalism tells us something, speaking to the deep roots of identity that can’t be explained, defended, or even described—only felt.  It means something that Mexican-Americans still can’t bring themselves to root for the American team.  It means something that Algerians in France riot after the Algerian team plays a game, even with the historic prominence of Algerians on the French team.  And it means something that many Europeans, especially Germans, feel it is permissible to be proud of their ethnicity in a sporting context—although they are ashamed of it in other circumstances.  Indeed, already the opinion monitors are cautioning people that Brazil feeling “national humiliation” because of a soccer loss is only a short jump away from countries adopting fascism, or something

Nationalism remains.  The old symbols still speak to the hearts of the masses.  What they mean to different people will always be fought and argued over but they have not lost their power.  The World Cup is a safety valve and a corporate scam – but it is also an expression of a force that is not yet spent.

This is a problem for a Dissident Right which is already moving beyond the old borders and identities of the past.  The Dissident Right in America has practically reached an intellectual consensus on an un-American position, from those who think the American Revolution was a mistake to White advocates pursuing the Sorelian vision of the ethnostate.  European Identitarians are working hard to transcend the national rivalries of the past.  And secession movements, in many cases supported by right wingers, are challenging the very existence of some of the most established and prominent countries in the world –from the United Kingdom to Italy.

However, most people opposed to the status quo are still nationalists, fighting to defend a romanticized past based on an already existing national institution.  The Americans opposing their own government in Murietta, CA wave the Stars and Stripes or even the flags of the military.  Parties like UKIP and the National Front pledge to defend the UK and France from a grasping European Union.  And Eastern European nations such as Hungary or Poland still have strong patriotic movements with mass constituencies that define their goals in terms of national independence, rather than some sweeping ideological revolution in the West.

Sports fandom is often expression of that peculiarly pathetic race cuckoldry that many White males seem comfortable with.  And it’s easy to simply say “Don’t watch the World Cup.”  But the faux nationalism of the World Cup is as much a reflection of the suppressed identity of the European peoples of the world as a perversion of it.  And it reflects the political and emotional reality that God may be dead in a historical sense, but the Nation lives.

Unfortunately, the nation-state of the modern West is as much an enemy of White people as a political expression.  We are supposed to believe that a country is somehow still the same even if the entire population is replaced – so long as the new population waves the same flag.  Yet at a gut level, one senses that people know what it is to be a real German, a real Frenchman…and even, (with apologies to Hulk Hogan) a real American.

The problem we face goes beyond either surrendering to soccer hysteria or congratulating ourselves for ignoring decadent mass culture.  It is about whether the Dissident Right can somehow build off populist patriotism and transform it into a true ethnonationalism, or whether the nations themselves should be discarded as reactionary debris obstructing the development of a new vision.  The former is largely the approach taken during the past six decades of failure.  But the latter, although more intellectually compelling, is likely to produce a “movement” with no resonance among the larger population.

The answer may be found in your own reaction over the last few weeks.  When you see a crowd overwhelmingly of your own race, waving the flag of your country, you may feel pride.  You may feel sickening disgust, knowing how your country is being betrayed, or how it betrayed you.  Or you may, like me, feel some kind of combination.  But the Dissident Right needs to make sense of that confusion because it’s not words or even philosophies that govern the world, but symbols and identity.

Their power is terrible.  Despite despising the values of the Bundesrepublik, despite raging at the weakness of the Last Men of the former Fatherland, despite my disgust for the whole politically correct spectacle… I can’t help but cheer for Die Mannschaft.  And hate myself for it.

And that’s not the worst of it.  I’m glad Team USA didn’t make it to the finals.  Because if they did, I know I’d be pulling for them even more.

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