Radix Journal

Radix Journal

A radical journal

Tag: Paris

Nostalgia, Nationalism & Woody Allen

Nostalgia is the great opium den of Nationalist circles where many bright and energetic minds in dissident politics go to escape modernity and embark on a quest of contemplation and…

Nostalgia is the great opium den of Nationalist circles where many bright and energetic minds in dissident politics go to escape modernity and embark on a quest of contemplation and yearning for what “could have been”. Is this something that can be fully separated from radicals in our movement? Maybe not completely, however, just like the addict in the opium den, so too, are nationalists being consumed in reverie over any time period that they never lived in, and in place of progression is a great wheat field image induced stagnation that breeds depression and resentment.

Third position ideas do require reflection on our past, which can justifiably create immense admiration, but if only for the purpose of moving forward. Jewish Filmmaker Woody Allen, seems to understand the negative effects of nostalgia and seemingly gifts us with his 2011 film, Midnight In Paris. A film that displays how this trance-like state of yearning for the past can seriously complicate your present. The only problem is Allen, I feel, is speaking to a very specific audience and that audience is us. Thus, he is careful to not encourage us too much and, as you will read below, I believe he has a more nefarious purpose for this messaging.


OVERVIEW OF MIDNIGHT IN PARIS

 Midnight in Paris, written and directed by Woody Allen, is a quirky tale of a screenwriter seemingly at an impasse. Gil Pender (Owen Wilson), is vacationing in Paris with his fiancee, Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her parents John and Helen. As we can see right off the bat, Gil and Inez couldn’t be more different than one another. Gil is very lackadaisical while Inez is explicitly high maintenance and intense. Inez’s parents have nothing but disdain for Gil and his ostensibly aloof and unserious personality. Gil is almost finished with his first novel about a man working in a nostalgia shop. Inez is not impressed or encouraging with this novel and wishes he would stick to screenwriting due to to his success in Hollywood. Inez is also annoyed at Gils’ insistence that they should live in Paris indefinitely due to his nostalgic euphoria over the Paris of the 1920’s.

Paul, who is a friend of Inez, and his wife happen to be in Paris at the same time as them. She admits to Gil she had a “crush” on Paul in college to which a clearly jealous Gil describes him as “Pedantic” and “Pseudo-intellectual”. Inez is clearly infatuated with Paul while Gil cannot stand him. Paul is a very dapper man who speaks with confidence and with every chance he gets, he tries to be the smartest man in the room. Even when he is contradicted by a tour guide about the artist Rodin and his tryst with his wife and mistress, Paul will not relent and keeps insisting he is right (and as the viewer can find out if they look into the life of Rodin, the tour guide was correct).

Gil and Inez have a night of drinking with Paul and his wife until Gil opts for a walk around the city of Paris alone to take the city it all in while Inez leaves with Paul and his wife in a taxi. Gil stops on his walk to figure out where he is exactly and as soon as the clock strikes midnight, a 1920’s vehicle pulls up in front of Gil. The passengers, also dressed from the 20’s, invite him to join them. It is at this point Gil is transported back in time to what he sees as the Golden Age of Paris. The 1920’s. This allows for an entertaining list of famous characters from the time to enter the plot such as Ernest Hemingway, Salvador Dali, Luis Bunuel, Cole Porter, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and more.

Every night Gil transports himself back in time to meet all these artistic giants of the 20th century while his wife spends her time with Paul and, supposedly, his wife. After Hemingway brings Gil to Gertrude Stein’s flat so that he may have his novel analyzed, he meets Adriana (Marianne Cotillard). They have an instant connection and Gil becomes conflicted with this new flame that he has in the past and his current fiancee.

After visiting an Antique vendor in the present day, he finds Adriana’s diary where she has written a passage about her love for Gil. This encourages him to go back in time once more so that they may communicate their feelings for one another. They do so,and as they kiss at midnight, a horse drawn carriage pulls up in front of them and a well dressed couple invites them in. They are then transported to the 1890’s which is the true Golden Age, according to Adriana. After she is offered a job to make costumes for the theater, she decides to stay but Gil cannot. He realizes that everybody is bored with the age in which they live and they won’t find their meaning by going back. He decides the present is where he should remain and they choose to part.

Once in the present, Gil realizes Inez may be cheating on him with Paul (a discovery made by Hemingway after he reads Gil’s novel; Gertrude Stein then relates to Gil that Hemingway could not believe the protagonist did not see his fiancee was having an affair right before his eyes with “the pedantic one”) and when he confronts her, she admits to doing so but that he needs to just “get over it”. Gil seems rather pleased and takes this moment to tell her he will stay in Paris and they are not right for one another. In the end, we see Gil walking, yet again, through the city of Paris and at midnight he bumps into a young beautiful antique vendor he met earlier in the film. They walk off together through the streets, in the rain, which is where Gil always felt happiest.


WOODY ALLEN & THE ARYAN

 What does this film mean, and more importantly, what does it mean for nationalists? In a way, Allen is giving an honest critique of reactionary thought. Not living in the now and spending ones time only in the past can produce untold unhappiness in the present. Gil is frustrated with how he is presently living. He dreams of a before time when to him everything was great. We see this many a time in politics. For a typical Republican, perhaps it’s America in the 50’s. To some 1930s Europe. To others medieval times and there are even those that believe that in the days of cavemen things were far more ideal. Which ever time one finds themselves pining for, Allen is telling the viewer that it is the present we should be focused in but how exactly is he portraying the present?

The film opens with a series of static shots that appear almost like paintings to display the very best of Paris. Throughout the film, the city is always ever present as another character in the story. While indeed very inspiring and breathtaking, it is obvious Woody Allen has only picked very select parts of the city. What we know of Paris today is that it is a shell of its former self. Even in 2011, during the films release, migrant hell holes burrowed their way into the city along with the trash that covers the streets. Culture in Paris is waning and the very best parts of the city are only preserved for the sake of tourism and not for the French soul. I doubt Allen is ignorant to any this. Quite the opposite. I believe this was a calculated decision on his part to ensure that we don’t spend much time in the past but to also accept our present as being more than sufficient, therefore we have no need to look to our future. As Nationalists, we are inspired by our past which Allen is more than aware, and as I’ve stated before we take elements from our Golden Age (whenever that may be) so that we may apply it to our lives in order to create a different future than the one that has been currently decided for us. Allen is careful to not encourage us too much. He wants you to stay forever in the present and to imprison your passion within the confines of a “this is good enough” type of attitude.

How do we know Allen is speaking to us? Some subtle clues in his body of work, as well as Midnight in Paris specifically, give us an indication of who he is speaking to. One of the ways we can find these clues is through name recognition which you can learn through the work of Mark Brahmin and his work in Jewish Esoteric Moralization also known as JEM. Many Jewish filmmakers pick very specific names in order to indicate who is an “Aryan” and who is a “Jew”. Gil can be translated to a few different meanings. Foolish, simpleton, and happy (which can hint at a happiness out of ignorance) are among those meanings which makes sense when you view this blonde and blue eyed character in the film. JEM often portrays the Aryan figure as gullible and generally oblivious.

It’s not that Gil is an ignorant man by any means it is more that he is a bit unaware of his surroundings and can be easily manipulated. Two women in his life that are Jewish signifiers, Inez (Who’s father is a Jewish figure named John who is also a neocon) and Adriana (meaning black, which is a Jewish signifier), merely have Gil around for their temporary entertainment. Adriana, for example, writes in her diary that her reasons for loving Gil are that he is “naive and unassuming”. Paul Bates, being short for Bartholomew which is a Jewish signifier, even cuckolds Gil. The Jewish figure steals the Aryans woman away from him.

While there are several symbols and other names that we can delve into, the point is that Allen is giving, in my opinion, a direct message to the “goy”. Jews are very fearful of an inspired Aryan people which may lead to uprisings as we have seen in the past. Since film is possibly the most versatile art form in history, it would behoove one such as Woody Allen to not only entertain his audience but to also influence them in a way that he feels benefits him through subversive means.


CONCLUSION

Nostalgia, while being quite natural, can be a trap. Gil experienced this well enough. While its aroma can be alluring, it has been the great motivator of inaction among Nationalists currently. I cannot emphasize enough that we can, and should, look to days gone by to find inspiration and ideas that we can use or even update to create a future. But A movement must have vision. Vision requires forward thinking. There is no return to tradition and Nostalgia is by no means meant to be our end goal.

Midnight in Paris interested me because on one hand Woody Allen is acting as if he is giving us good advice on this matter. On the other hand, making sure we are stopped in our tracks. This is one of many ways our opposition tries to control us. The film is well done, entertaining, and quite funny. With that being said, Allen wishes to make you feel like you are progressing while in reality keeping you in a perpetual hamster wheel. It is all too Caducean. We need to spot this effect in every aspect of our lives. We need to break free of not only the prison our opposition has created for us but the one that we, as nationalists, construct for ourselves. Move forward. Not backward.

 

No Comments on Nostalgia, Nationalism & Woody Allen

Becoming a People Again

As a matter of fact, we’re all powerless to oppose the suicidal policies of Washington, Berlin, London and Paris. We are all powerless because we are no longer a people.

Yesterday was World Kindness Day. It was also a “Black Friday,” not the kind when people fight each other to get a discounted item at Wal-Mart to offer their relatives for Christmas before they put it on eBay for sale. Instead, it was the kind when the 13th of the month happens to be a Friday.

Between kindness and bad luck, it seems that Fate has chosen the latter. “Fate,” here, took the shape of Islamic terrorists.

As everyone knows by now, there have been six shootings and bombings in Paris yesterday evening, leaving over 120 dead people, and counting.

Unlike the Charlie Hebdo attack last January, these people were not engaged in any kind of fight, whatever we might think of the one Charlie Hebdo cartoonists believed they were committed to.

The deadliest of the six shootings took place at a trendy concert facility, “Le Bataclan,” where a rock band was performing. As we know, rock is a musical genre mostly enjoyed by Whites, and the significance of it should not escape us.

As I usually do when I have time on my hands, I came back from work by foot, and when I walked by the “Bataclan,” there were already many people waiting at the entrance. Among them were likely people who found death a couple hours later.

It all started like a normal evening though. At the Saint-Denis stadium, there was a football (yes, football, you can allow me that at a time like this) game between France and the incumbent world champion, Germany.

During the game, several explosions were reported. But the show had to go on, as it had in 1985 at the Brussels Heysel Stadium, when 39 football fans died during the European Cup final opposing FC Liverpool to Juventus Turin. Despite the tragedy, the game was allowed to proceed, to the end.

Yesterday, likewise, the French national team was allowed to defeat Germany (2-0) and thus take its revenge for the 2014 World Cup quarterfinal match. But France’s Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, François Hollande, had already fled. Napoleon at Berezina.

It’s only when I checked the game’s result that I discovered what had happened all over Paris. Among the six shootings and bombings, one occurred at the terrace of a restaurant located only four blocks from where I live. I used to go there a few years ago. I’m not mentioning this to look like a hero that I’m not, but to explain that it affected me more than the Charlie Hebdo massacre.

“So you came back to die with your city?”

“So you came back to die with your city?”

My first reaction, though, was similar to the one I had after the Charlie Hebdo shooting: “Keep Calm and Ride the Tiger,” with a finely tuned mix of Schadenfreude, “I told you so” and Stoicism.

But my inner Epictetus was soon silenced by my inner Howard Beale, who reminded me that “First, you’ve got to get MAD!” I was angry, and I was mad, because what happened yesterday was entirely predictable, and was actually predicted by many experts.

The “invade the world, invite the world” policy initiated by George W. Bush and followed since then by his Parisian satraps (with the bygone exception of Iraq in 2003) killed yesterday. And it will kill again if drastic action is not taken, first to protect legitimate regimes in the Near East, then to shield Europe’s borders against the tsunamic wave of so-called “refugees,” inside which some of yesterday’s shooters were embedded.

Writing this last paragraph, I have the humiliating feeling of waving a Buckleyite fist at a world I no longer fit in. But as humiliating as it looks, I am not alone in that respect. As a matter of fact, we’re all powerless to oppose the suicidal policies of Washington, Berlin, London and Paris. We are all powerless because we are no longer a people.

Freedom Failed.

Freedom Failed.

What we are, instead, is a collection of atomized monads, ready to be scattered by the first collective force, however primitive, that it encounters.

It is this atomization that explains that no organized opposition took place when the atrocity of Rotherham was exposed. It is this atomization that ensured that in 2009 no one shut down the U.S. Army Chief of Staff General when he had the gall to say that “it would be an even greater tragedy if our diversity becomes a casualty” after Fort Hood’s massacre in Texas (13 dead).

Three years ago, when I reported on the French Identitarian Convention that happened just after Génération Identitaire’s storming of the Poitiers mosque, I mentioned a round-table titled “Refaire un peuple” (“Remaking a People”). As promising as the title was, none of the speakers dealt with the fundamental issue: if we have to ask ourselves how to remake a people, it’s because we are no longer a people to begin with. The same way that if NPI’s last conference was titled “Become Who We Are,” it’s because we are not who we are, or rather who we should be.

... strong!

… strong!

As I write, I doubt the heartwarming solidarity of the Western world with yesterday’s victims is going to allow us to become a people again.

Last January, after a first major warning, hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets to show that they were Charlie. But it wasn’t clear then whether it meant that they were ready to resist, or that they would willingly accept a similar fate as the cartoonists’.

Later this year, roughly the same people were ready to “welcome refugees,” and it’s clear now that what we suffered yesterday is only one of the many outcomes that this pathological outburst of altruism is going to lead to.

But hope is what makes us human. I don’t want to exaggerate the significance of people adding a tricolor filter to their Facebook profile pictures, but at this very moment, I have the feeling that we—we French, but also we Europeans worldwide—are a people again.

Let us not miss this historic opportunity to make that momentary feeling a permanent one.


EDIT: Sunday, November 15th; Roman Bernard joins Richard to relay his experience in Paris during the recent terrorist attacks and discuss the symbolism of violence and potential for a European awakening:

No Comments on Becoming a People Again

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.

No Comments on Keep Calm and Ride the Tiger

Type on the field below and hit Enter/Return to search