1. In the McLingua teacher room the other day, i walked in on a conversation about the university, fussed about with my papers for a bit then butted my Huddersfield head in, to learn that a colleague was thinking of studying Philosophy but had to learn German first; i commiserated and suggested avoiding Heidegger for the nonce; conversation turned to academia and we were all of the opinion that it is a nest of venomous adders vomiting forth servile gibberish.

i have at times encountered hearty I’m-alright-Jack Southron types who say any kind of academic writing is incomprehensible gibberish, but in truth the university only became a den of filth in the late 80s, early 90s. i sometimes miss reading pre-1990 literary criticism, and writing my own untimely commentaries, though it is such an artificial form that, lacking any audience at all, i would prefer to write my Racist Remarks on my Cold War typewriter, or just drink whisky and smoke contemplatively over the ruins of Mother Europe.

2. For years, i felt an odd conflict about literary criticism, for almost everyone i met openly despised me for reading books in the first place, let alone writing about them. The conflict arose because i loved reading 1950s-1980s-era literary criticism, and felt my best essays were valuable, in their own way, and yet when almost everyone sneers, you tend to think you must be wrong, and so i felt one of my strongest passions must, in fact, be totally mistaken.

i no longer feel this tension, partly because i no longer really talk to people, certainly not about anything important, but also because i more & more sense the subtle underpinnings & influence of the world of art, culture, and the spirit, almost invisible to the rabble. It is striking and strange that a very small minority can perceive significant realities, and an even smaller can begin to understand and deploy these forces; and yet, these seemingly recondite persuasions create the mundane reality of the belly-patting managerial Southron, Tony Blair, and your everyday chav.

3. Study of anything can provoke an understanding of the world, however brief, fragmentary, fraught; and this understanding is the more likely the more the object is either created by the gods, or a work of true art (i.e. not modern). Make your rabbits rabbinical, master, and set them to the carrots of the field; for it is this study and commentary which sensitizes to realities of spirit. Browsing through my notes on Annie Dillard’s For the Time Being, i find:

“In the pictures of the old masters,” Max Picard wrote in The World of Silence, “people seem as though they had just come out of the opening in a wall; as if they had wriggled their way out with difficulty. They seem unsafe and hesitant because they have come out too far and still belong more to silence than themselves.”

So it is, that this study and work involves an apprehension of the generally denied or despised substratum of being. There is small work and great; mine, i deem, is small, for i am long quit of greatness and its malheurs.

4. Attention to primal works can forcegrow certain capacities. Our age seems designed to prevent such attention: our technologies, and a lack of respect for art and religion. When i was 20 or so i bought Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew, and listened to it in great distress, thinking “I just wasted twenty quid, this is shit”. After the third or fourth listen/ordeal, i sat me down and thought “now Elberry old son, this must be good because it’s from before you were born and people STILL say it’s good”. On this listen, the previously appalling sounds cohered into music,  i think because i was suitably reverent and willing to attend. Amusingly, when i told the Journalist, he refused to believe that i liked the album, boldly declaring that even leftfield eclectic cultural magpie jazz aficionados given to self-affirmation and self-transcendence didn’t like Bitches Brew; he then added something like “I can’t help but feel that your alleged liking of Miles’ 1970 fusional foray into experimental and avant-garde jazz is based solely on your wish to appear COOL and to conform to what music critics tell you to think. I can’t help but feel that in fact you DON’T understand Miles D at this stage in his experimental maverick trajectory, ably assisted by old studio hands at the legendary 30th St, but you FEEL you can IMPRESS me by CLAIMING to do so.”

So obviously, reading and listening and looking do not suffice for clarity of spirit; and a bad spirit will transform even the greatest of artworks into his own self-importance.

5. i’ve been thinking/remembering the Great War, as i experienced it in the life to which i seem closest (consciously, at least). Artillery stunned, even quite distant artillery; the noise and percussive shock reduced one to a childlike state, of terror and helplessness. Perhaps in others it was less profound, but in me – because i lived more in my mind – it entailed an overwhelming loss of what i knew as my self. My whole body would react with the artillery, blinking and breathing in that tempo, as if my whole body was flinching and contracting, my mind utterly consumed by terror. It was not ordinary fear, which in our world today is localised and usually integrated into the self; this was more i suppose a carnal terror, the body believing (with some justice) death to be imminent.

There was a curious resolve & clarity after artillery attacks. In part it could be that my ordinary problems became relativized and actually trivial in these moments of terror, and so i could more easily live with myself by coming close to death, time after time. On reflection, i think it was also that, the terror being so extreme, survival – the self reforming in quietness – seemed a significant achievement; and also the annihilation of self, however horrible, showed that the self was not, finally, indispensable, that it could disintegrate without the body dying; that there must be something indestructible within, from which the self would reform, standing however apart from the self.

6. Another note from For the Time Being, on Teilhard de Chardin’s service as a stretcher-bearer in the same war:

A witness remembered his “rough-hewn face that Greco had prefigured” and his “total lack of ecclesiasticism.” One of the officers serving with him wrote, “Two features of his personality struck you immediately: courage and humility.” His regiment’s Tunisian sharpshooters, who were Muslims, used to say rather cryptically that a “spiritual structure” protected him when he plucked bodies from the ground in crossfire.

Chardin’s life, however wayward and various, is all of a piece. There are people who can move from one sphere to another, and whose earthly actions bear a spiritual imprimatur. If Andrew Breitbart was correct to say politics is downstream from culture, then i would say culture (in the sense of customs, social norms, and the arts) is downstream from what is today wholly denied: religion, spirit, the occult.

As i see it, there are powerful & malign forces currently working to destroy the connection between Europeans and the highest order of reality. Some of their earthly vessels are easily identified; they are, all the same, merely vessels.

i will not be too disheartened if Le Pen loses the French elections on May 7  – the situation with our 3rd World guests will only grow much worse, so she will probably be able to win with a clear majority next time, and be able to take more decisive action, if France hasn’t then already gone up in the flames of diversity and multicultural enrichment, Balkans-style. Contra Varg, i see nothing wrong with voting for so-called Right-wing parties, however i would say hope lies not in politics (the lowest, densest sphere) and not even in culture – we must work for the old gods to come once more to us, in new guise and manner. i stress new despise my general loathing of anything modern, because the irruption of the divine cannot be predicted, planned, controlled – even for those who expect them the gods come as a shock; even in their very gentleness as an artillery barrage to a self that no longer is; nor are they always gentle.

1. So, i went to Kassel and returned. i did almost nothing, save reading and writing on the train, and in Kassel mostly going on hideous healthy walks and eating hideous healthy food with Juniper. She has a cat, or rather a neighbour’s cat, an insolent demanding beast calling itself Max, which has taken to sleeping in her flat for hours every day, and now expects her to feed it a special cat treat, some kind of luxury caviar with quail eggs i wager. i first met this usurper last November, when it appeared in the garden, staring menacingly at me, then prowling about the flat, eyeing me warily before disappearing once more. After i left, Juniper wrote:

Max visited, jumped into your bed rolling over it to substitute your smell with his own, that’s how men are.

My response:

Don’t let him drink the good gin. 

2. i find cats amusing but fail to understand them. As far as i can gather Max has slowly made inroads into Juniper’s flat & affections over the last few months, and as the Russians elected Trump through hacking, so Max has taken to sniffing about Juniper’s flat, gobbling up cat treats before sleeping on his designated cat bed:

3. Juniper grew up on a farm outside Kassel. i have noted that neighbourhood cats, while generally regarding me with the wariness appropriate to my essentially canine nature, immediately approach & then follow Juniper on our hideous healthy walks. She doesn’t know why Max chooses to sleep in her flat, however i noted that three times i alarmed him by talking vehemently about my many enemies, or by laughing, and he was then so startled he darted out of the door and into the garden, sleeping a few few feet away as to say “don’t like that fat strange person you have inside”, which to me suggests an aversion to raised voices and loud emotion.

Juniper is ideal, then, being an essentially quiet person. Quietness is an attribute of soul. It betokens a direct engagement with our physical reality and is increasingly rare; i’ve also found it in my stepfather, a bus driver most of his life. i told Toddball that my stepfather is one of my role models; and Toddball was astounded, i think thinking i would think such a man of no import, for a thinking man; but thinking is not my challenge & difficulty. Thinking is, in a sense, trivial.

The quietness of Juniper, and my stepfather, do not necessarily imply lack of education; she speaks 3 languages well and reads “literary fiction” but is not at all an “intellectual”; having too strong instincts to drift into that useless cloudy domain. It is the academics, the IT geeks, the big city-folk, the fat rabbits and “theorists” who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the Kingdom of Earth, and will be justly despised by their children’s children (to paraphrase Kierkegaard and Yeats).

4. Quietness is rare in literature: writers & thinkers tend to be loud; but i could cite Chekhov, Keats, Sir Philip Sidney, Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Bishop; overlapping some of Patrick Kurp’s affections & notes. It is to do with a simultaneous sensitivity and reticence, a reluctance or inability to coerce. i find milder forms of this in other writers (Camus, Wallace Stevens) but in truth it is rare to find a writer who does not seek to dominate or at least present the world in his terms. And today it is vanishingly rare.

5. My father rang while i was in Kassel. We had a good chat about how England is a right proper shithole; he despises most politicians and authorities as befits Elberry Senior, and apropos the gap between official media coverage & reality said “egh well the BBC is THE WORST!!! They are all liars! That blessed man, egh, that DRONALD TRUMF!!! He said BBC is a BEAUTY! Egh? Are you with me? Egh? They are all LIARS!!!” i opined that the more they attack Trump, the more you can be sure he is probably doing something right. i take some heart that his Syria attack seemed more symbolic than real, and he followed it up by destroying a bunch of the kind of bearded folk Assad is fighting, over in the ‘stan. But of course politics is just a weird human contrivance and will always be absurd.

Unexpectedly, my father asked me what the Bible is. Given he is a kitschy Catholic i was somewhat taken aback but tried my best. He then asked what the difference is between the Catholic and Protestant Bibles, when the New Testament was written, etc. i answered as best i could, off the top of my head, and later Googled and found that i was surprisingly accurate – product of a brutal grammar school/Viking education.

Given he is nearly blind i suggested he procure a copy of Johnny Cash reading the New Testament.

6. Among other matters, we discussed Brexit and the EU. The former will, i feel, go ahead in spite of all – the EU is ideologically much weaker than the Soviet Union, and most European states have a much stronger national identity than shitholes like Kazakhstan. For all the globalists have tried to erase a millenia of culture, it persists. For all the fat rabbits and ridiculous weak white people will sell their birthright for passport-free travel, there are enough colonials like my father or 2nd-generation mongrels such as my self, who wouldn’t blithely throw European culture away for the sake of a globalist state calling itself “the European Union”.

7. i continue to relish Trump. We will see if France can rekindle its nation. If one could see Trump as momentary focus of America as America and not as a globalist platform or SJW cesspit, i hope that Le Pen will triumph in France. i predicted a Trump victory, drawing about 90% on Tarl Warwick and 10% on my own occult scryings (which were unambiguously in Trump’s favour). With France i feel Le Pen is coming into focus, but we will see. If the French go for a globalist or socialist they will pay the price, and there will be a race war in good time – which will probably be the case in Germany, as i feel the Germans will keep voting for Merkel until they destroy their own nation.

However i strive for a certain quietness, to listen and wait.

1. i’m visiting Juniper for Easter and her computer is now about a decade old, so there’ll likely be no blogging till after i return. i don’t have anything to say now, but Monday to Wednesday are long days and then i’m off to Kassel, so i’ll say the nothing i have to say, now.

2. A few months ago, i said that as long as the media are savagely attacking Trump you can be sure he’s at least trying to do good. He stood up for gay rights and the media ignored it; his supporters were generally restrained & orderly while the Left organised mass protests and physical assaults, and the media said Trump is literally Adolf Hitler and his supporters brownshirts; his daughter talked nonsense about the supposed pay gap, and the media ignored it; but as soon as he launched an attack on Assad he became, suddenly, all right, presidential even in the eyes of the media who were calling him psychopathic, narcissistic, stupid, crazy, evil a week ago.

A screenshot from The Golden One’s FB page:

3. At times i wonder if i’m missing something, or am just stupid. i don’t, for example, see why chemical weapons should be worse than dropping bombs; nor, looking at the Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya debacles, do i see how people can cheer the strikes on, and call for the death of Assad as if the result will somehow not be as it was in Iraq etc. i can however see why Peter Hitchens is so generally morose, coming out against war after war, and knowing that people will either not see the clear similarities between the WMD hoax and this, or won’t care.

4. As far as i can tell, the Israel/Saudi lobbies wish to destabilise every secular or Shia country in the Middle East; Israel i suppose for their own defence, the Saudis presumably for religious reasons. And since both countries more or less own the US “Deep State”, their will be done.

5. Well, we’ll see. In an earthly sense i see no hope. One can judge the true intent of the earthly powers by the corporate media’s sudden volte-face. Suddenly grabbing pussy and being Hitler isn’t so important. The important thing is to destroy Syria. i only wonder at the journalists who can write, every day, whatever their masters bid, without qualm. i met one such journalist, actually the one who told other journalists what to write, for one of Germany’s largest papers, and he seemed perfectly nice, though since his paper is Left-wing i imagine i would find it full of evil lies. Perhaps, believing that the white race is inherently evil, and European culture must be destroyed for the good of mankind, it is possible to persuade oneself of the necessity of deceit when the facts don’t quite match up, e.g. those who say the background & ethnicity of rapists shouldn’t be reported because such facts might provoke the native population. Hate-facts, you see.

7. i’m making good if slow progress on my occult horror comedy, and on my Racist Remarks. i write more for my own personal satisfaction than for any eventual readership, since after 12 years of blogging i have about a dozen readers. i’ve been a bit down of late; my schedule fluctuates so i have days with no work, or only 90 minutes (with 2 hours’ travel), and then days with 12 or more hours; i worry about money since i’m making on average just barely what i need to survive (without health insurance or a pension), and then the 12-hour days leave me stunned and incapable. On Friday, as i shambled about McLingua, i felt that my mind had switched off, as if a fuse had gone. i am accustomed to a background noise of thinking, not “what should i have for dinner” thinking, but thinking about e.g. Wallace Stevens or the future of the EU or alchemy or runes or whatnot, and these thoughts console and please me. On Friday, seemingly from overwork this aspect of my mind switched off completely. It was quite horrible. i was suddenly massively bored and weary of being alive. i wondered, Is this why normal people always have to be drinking beer and shouting, to distract themselves from this abyss?

But then it’s been four months since my last holiday, so i’m jaded and weary as usual after too long in Munich. Just the train fare to & from Kassel will cost 15% of what i’ll make in April, before tax, a thought i find highly displeasing. i shouldn’t spend so much money but my mood has grown darker & darker of late, to the point where i was yesterday trying to cheer myself up thus: “My life is so shit. Whoah, hold on, it’s not that bad. Think. You have…some friends in Munich, after all. Even if you don’t really trust any of them. And they’re all cunts.” And then, walking back from the supermarket i found myself eyeing the speeding cars and thinking, Maybe i’ll be lucky and a car will hit me and i’ll die immediately. But then again, i might just be crippled from the neck down and end up in a Muslim camp, raped until i die of internal bleeding.

So it’s probably for the best that i’m off to Kassel.

i became aware of a new Werner Herzog film, the critically-lambasted Salt and Fire. However, after sitting groaningly through the pedestrian Doctor Strange i felt up for a bit of Herzog, even inferior Herzog. My notes thereon:

1. Two dagos (Meier & Calvani) and an uppity German MILF are en route to some scientific conference. Calvani keeps groping the MILF, until they are all abducted at which point all gropings cease. One of the abductors is Michael Shannon, plus a gimp called Krauss, played by Lawrence Krauss in a Gestapo coat, generally toting an assault rifle.

2. First 20 minutes are stilted and odd, the plot not so much unfolding as jerking about like a maimed spider. Most of the actors are not native English speakers, and even Michael Shannon speaks like a being from another planet. The MILF is highly irritating; she keeps saying “I demand -” like a true German power frau who is going to demand unlimited “refugees” come to Germany to rape all & sundry and destroy European culture, as long as they don’t live in her gated community. i hate her.

3. The annoying MILF wanders about a Catholic villa in some godawful dago desert, talking to Shannon. A parrot shrieks something in David Lynch talk, Shannon translates it “remember now thy creator in the days of thy youth” and then:

Shannon: You know what Nostradamus said about talking birds?

MILF: No, I do not read Nostradamus.

Shannon: He foretold what sounds like science fiction today. He said, Household pets finally communicate with man. Life then possible outside the planet. A new tyrant sows terror. Events to come.

MILF: A world run on big data and predictive analytics doesn’t care about Renaissance predictions. I want to know how Meier and Cavani are.

Shannon: It’s not so much the predictions themselves that fascinate me. It’s where they come from.

4. Things turn esoteric. i begin to warm to the film, as Shannon shows her his library.

and texts of an alchemical nature

“This salamander was exorcised with a bucket of holy water, and then burnt. [pause] I think I was meant to live a different life.”

5. Shannon shows the MILF David Lynchian paintings and tells her that nothing she hears will make sense to her American ears, but in the end she will understand:

A surprising vein of Catholic mysticism and alchemy (and, incidentally, Tarot symbolism). i begin to think, Did i really just hear that? Did i dream this film?

Shannon unveils himself to the MILF in a fireside chat.

“It’s okay to be afraid of the dark. The real tragedy in life is when men are afraid of the light.”

6. Again, this seems more of a hermetic work than even a fringe film. Shannon and Krauss drive the MILF out to a salt desert and abandon her with two unexplained children. 

The children are retards with pudding bowl haircuts, they could be blind but in any case she is left with them in the desert. Having warmed slightly to the MILF, my first reaction was “kill one of the children, leave him out in the desert as bait for predators, and then kill the predators and drink their blood. Use the second child as a mule.”

7. Instead the MILF looks after the children, teaching them English despite having very Germanic grammar patterns and accent. Why not teach them German? Some of her tuition is suspect but i suppose if you take this as edited highlights of an intense course, it could seem plausible. She sings German songs and seems happier in this predicament than elsewise.

8. At some point, i grew to, if not like the pudding bowl retards, at least feel they shouldn’t be gutted and left to bleed out in the salt wastes. While the weak should of course perish, i think Herzog has a particular genius for taking the weak & wayward, and showing their essential humanity; he takes this brittle German power frau and over the first 40 minutes she becomes human through, in part, her concern for her abducted colleagues, and through her tentative engagement with Shannon over various esoterica; the pudding bowl retard children become of value through her engagement & care.

9. Shannon and Krauss return.

There are many very Herzogian moments of fun and humour and sadness, and Shannon is revealed as a Herzogian figure – his reason for leaving her in the desert is very much in line with Herzog’s loathing for factual documentary, Herzog’s ideal of indissoluble experience.

Overall, a very good film. It got terrible reviews, naturally. As i was watching it, i felt “this is a good film to watch once” but now i want to watch it again. It is, at about 95 minutes, extremely condensed. All of Herzog’s films are layered and hectic; this is a strange work, reminding me somewhat of my own short stories in being a failure in terms of the apparent form; yet as i would say my short stories are operating in a different, unapparent form, so i would say here, Salt and Fire is actually a very good film, if one sees it as it is, not as a typical “film”. There some odd moments, e.g. when Shannon’s men abduct the MILF & co from an airport, bundling them all into a car, and one of the henchmen is aiming a handgun at the hills at least a kilometer away. It would have been nice to have some minimal realism here, but then it’s a Herzog film and he’s not an action director.

It doesn’t surprise me that film critics – generally Left-wing, mediocre big city dwellers – condemned this film. It is actually a very odd meditation on how our experience of isolation & pain is part of our human being, and our relation to others, and the necessity of experience in all its weirdness, to come to clarity.

1. A wise man once said “your future dream has sure been seen through”. The song came out when i was a wee little chubby-cheeked babby, already dreaming grand dreams of the coming Race War in my cradle. i never understood how foreigners could admire England in its present form – the countryside largely gone, the economy bifurcated into managerial spiv positions and McJobs, the people grown feckless and violent, accustomed to unemployment as a way of life, and millions of Muslims swarming over hill & dale raping white girls while the police smile and tut about diversity.

2. i wondered if it was just because i’m half-Indian and speak posh, and am a fascist, so don’t fit in anywhere, but i met even white Leftists who said there was something menacing about every English town on a Friday night, something depressing and lost about England in general. i always felt it was naff & shite to be English, at least in the miserable late 20th Century; and the only people who seemed proud of their country were either old or hooligans, or old hooligans even. Contrast with Germany where, at least in Kassel and Munich, people seem generally quite happy to be German or Bavarian, and in the latter case are often unabashedly proud of their land and heritage.

There’s almost no street crime in Bavaria, and what there is seems to do with immigrants (Turks, Russians, English teachers etc.) In England i actually preferred Muslim to chav areas, because there seemed some kind of order, albeit un-European, in the former; in the latter, you might as well be in Mordor among the orcpits, eating rotten hobbitflesh and smearing yourself with troll semen.

3. Aged now 41 i feel vaguely aware of my impending senility & death, and nodded sadly as i read Flann O’Brien’s The Hard Life:

– Well, may the sweet Almighty God look down on us with compassion! Do you realize that at your age Mose Art had written four symphonies and any God’s amount of lovely songs? Pagan Neeny had given a recital on the fiddle before the King of Prussia and John the Baptist was stranded in the desert with damn the thing to eat only locusts and wild honey. Have you no shame man?

– Well, I’m young yet.

– Is that a fact now? You are like the rest of them, you are counting from the wrong end.

i’ve thus began writing two new works: the first is a horror comedy, the latter a series of thoughts & observations i’ve titled Racist Remarks, since at present it’s mostly about race. There are also some thoughts about the occult, and i think if there is to be any unifying thread it will be merely the time of its generation; that is, fairly short passages that are on my mind and which i either don’t want to blog, or can’t. If it gets up to about 30 – 40 thousand words i may self-publish it, under some innocuous title; i thought about posting the remarks on my Patreon page but there’s something to be said for working on something over a few months, on a Cold War-era typewriter in my case, and then publishing it as a complete work.

i anticipate rave reviews.

4. i came upon this meme upon my travels:

It’s a good point, as i dare say many Irish Catholics supported the IRA, as many Muslims do the Jihaddists. My thoughts:

i) This is precisely why it is imprudent to have people of differing group-identity living in the same area (and hence, why empire tends to lead to long-term problems). Whenever people with different ethnicity, religion, or politics live in the same area they will eventually come to blows. Leaving aside the hordes of Islam already entrenched on welfare in multicultural hellholes like Bradford & Birmingham, to wilfully introduce even more Muslims to Europe is to intensify the likelihood of terrorism and race war.

ii) The IRA (and offshoots) habitually advised the police of bombs, with usually just enough time to clear the area, so the only damage was to property. Muslims wish to kill as many non-Muslims as possible.

iii) The IRA had a specific and realisable political goal. They mostly targeted military & police, and destroyed property. Their goal was to pressure the British Government for a specific end. i think many people could sympathise with the goal, just not the means.

Muslims want to destroy Western civilisation & culture, and to either murder every single non-Muslim or to force us to convert to their religion in its most extreme form.

iv) The Irish are genetically similar to the English, Muslims are not. Thus, the grandchildren of boyos could be almost indistinguishable from the English in IQ, appearance, broad character tendencies; but millenia of inbreeding in a torrid climate mean Muslims, to the umpteenth generation, will…well, be different.

v) The IRA & their sympathisers had much the same culture as the English. Thus, they did not by their very existence work to destroy English culture. The Irish have been part of British culture (in literature, in the military, in the labour force) for centuries. Muslims are a late arrival and are over-represented in crime and umemployment statistics.

i leave it to the reader to dwell on the significant contributions of our Muslim friends to English civilisation and culture.

5. Having said all that, it would be interesting to consider Sharia England – there would of course be mass rapes, mass murders, and the destruction of all that could remind of Christianity. In the end the entire country would resemble Bradford, of course, and then Mogadishu. But perhaps in a few centuries, after plague and warfare have destroyed most of the population, there would be something English about – no actually, forget it, it’s doomed.

1. i was reading Paradise Lost over lunch, Book 3, and was once more astounded by the petulant, rambling schoolmaster persona of Milton’s God, especially in contrast to Satan. So Shelley:

Nothing can exceed the energy and magnificence of the character of Satan as expressed in Paradise Lost. It is a mistake to suppose that he could ever have been intended for the popular personification of evil. Implacable hate, patient cunning, and a sleepless refinement of device to inflict the extremest anguish on an enemy, these things are evil; and, although venial in a slave, are not to be forgiven in a tyrant; although redeemed by much that ennobles his defeat in one subdued, are marked by all that dishonors his conquest in the victor. Milton’s Devil as a moral being is as far superior to his God, as one who perseveres in some purpose which he has conceived to be excellent in spite of adversity and torture is to one who in the cold security of undoubted triumph inflicts the most horrible revenge upon his enemy, not from any mistaken notion of inducing him to repent of a perseverance in enmity, but with the alleged design of exasperating him to deserve new torments. 

A curious thing – literary Satans have far more reach than literary Gods. One aspect of my projected & doomed Satan PhD was to have been the means by which Satan implies God – if one takes Satan as the symmetrical opposite of the Almighty (so Dante), then one could judge much of a culture’s conception of God by looking at its Devils.

2. Men may and usually do deny the gods and the spirit. But they rarely deny evil. Even the most rabidly materialist post-modern Leftists retain the category “evil” – they call it Nazi, Hitler, fascist, nationalist, white, male, heterosexual, but essentially it’s the old “evil” reheated with a sprinkling of Hitler. In our fallen wreck of a world, evil is, as Schopenhauer noted of Dante, rather more in evidence; and so it is not surprising that the spiritual category “evil” (that something is ontologically wrong, irrespective of societal verdict) retains its hold even where most people today have absolutely no concept of spiritual “good”.

3. Evil exists in antagonistic relation to good. It seeks to destroy good wherever it may, so as Bruce Charlton noted one can take some hope in the globalists’ insistent assault on England:

[…] the past nine months have been valuable in revealing the main reason why the rest of the EU wanted Britain to remain.

It is what the Eurocrats call ‘the free movement of people’ but which in practice means that the UK is valued primarily as the major dumping-group for people that the rest of the EU does not want

That the EU does not want these people is clear from their behaviour towards them. 

*

We need to ask why it is so very important to the EU rulers that Britain specifically should get more unwanted people sent to us (passing through Europe, in preference to the rest of Europe) than anywhere else, year after year, decade after decade…

It must surely mean that the destruction of the British nation is a major priority for the global elites?

Evil, i suppose by definition, cannot leave the good alone.

4. i have instituted a fine Elberry tradition of drinking gin and playing Dune 2 on a Friday evening. Dune 2 is the shizznit, exactly the kind of game i like – repetitive with enough variation to keep me at it, and since it’s from 1992 it’s naturally superior to all modern games. i’m playing as House Ordos now; their special weapon is the so-called Deviator, which fires rockets & subverts enemy units, temporarily changing their allegiance to House Ordos. i find them highly useful both in defence and offence – you can subvert a heavy unit, e.g. the massive Harkonnen Devastator, and then turn it on its erstwhile comrades, or command it to self-destruct next to its own base. As i was drunkedly playing last Friday, it occurred to me that this is one of the principle initial methods of evil – to mimic the good (the Left’s talk of love and humanity and justice) in order to take over the centres of power, and then turn them to the service of hatred, division, and insanity.

It is an initial method because after a while they can drop the mask and say, openly, “we want to kill all white people“. It is, in a sense, admirably precise – the Left do not merely acquire a useful weapon, e.g. by turning the police into “paramilitary social workers” in Peter Hitchens’ phrase; they simultaneously weaken their adversary.

If you want to locate evil as a social/political formation, look to what was once good, or at least vaguely in the service thereof, and there they are, squatting like toads. Don’t think of evil as some horned beast sitting in a dark cave in the middle of nowhere, plotting; evil is precisely where good once flourished, where peace, order, knowledge, wisdom were once; and thus it will always be. And the more evil infiltrates and corrupts the institutions of our culture & civilisation, the more the agents of evil trumpet forth the virtues they have in fact destroyed: come to our university and get a first class degree! we have a proud history of education! the police are here to protect you! our schools are the best in the world! the NHS is a classic British institution! – and so on.

5. However, evil also provokes good. The response can be symmetrical, as with the glorious Alt-Knight Stickman, but it is characteristic of the good to respond at asymmetrical depth. The globalists’ plan to annihilate European culture by inviting seemingly every able-bodied Muslim male into Europe to rape and kill and live off welfare, has by its very ghastliness provoked a shift in European consciousness.

On the sociological level, nationalism. Threaten a thing too obviously, and it tends to be re-evaluated and potentially treasured. But also there seems a metaphysical shift, which i’ve felt in myself from around the end of 2015; and i’ve noticed, in my life, the lives of some i know, and even in “world events”, magical occurrences. In my life, i now undergo daily synchronicities, e.g. writing this post referencing Varg’s time in Iraq, having no idea which video it was, and then finding he’d just made a video expanding on precisely this topic. Such synchronicities, in my experience, are akin to the deja vu glitch of the Matrix – a reordering of our visible realm; uncounted minute adjustments.

6. i feel increasingly sure that Donald Trump is part of this – more as a catalyst, a rogue force smashing through an evil structure than as a good or enlightened person; my own theory, as i wrote earlier, is that he sees himself as American, and his own sense of self is so vivid and massive that he feels personally slighted that Americans seem much fallen from the prosperity & John Wayniness of their golden years. But i think he was, in a sense, chosen for this; he has the right kind of obtuse, indomitable energy, an odd naivety and childishness, and seems, in his human failings, human and without the taint of evil so grossly evident in Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Both good and evil evince levels of engagement and manifestation. i would disagree with those who think every crooked politician, every globalist, is some kind of fully-paid-up Satanist who wants to destroy man’s connection to the gods (which would incidentally also destroy human civilisation, and more importantly all human cultures).

At the lowest level, there are those who simply loathe Western civilisation – the average Leftist, who would like to live in Venezuela, at least until she does: these people are spiritually off-balance, and probably have some kind of mental problem, but then most people seem nuts to me, whether on the Right or Left. Above this, there are the globalists who want to destroy nations, and subjugate Europeans to the Sand Peoples – i presume their motive is mostly financial, and political: deals with the Saudis et al., and the will to rule over a vast, broken empire bereft of tradition and sovereignty. The ideal of the EU is the Soviet Union – the lesser kingdoms kneeling before the might of a small circle of unaccountable, and usually unremarkable bureaucrats.

And above this, there are people like the Vulture. At that level, i suppose very few are fully or even partly initiated. They seem promised a kind of immortality by their inhabiting demons – and indeed, they often live a very long life, and are hailed as philanthropists. Very few enter this circle because very few human beings are naturally malign enough to take it. Even those of the elite into paedophilia and all kinds of ghastliness may recoil somewhat from that final dark.

Their ultimate goal is to sever all connection between man and the gods, which would not create a planet of happy smiling Richard Dawkins materialists festooned with Apple products, but rather the Planet of the Ultrachavs – chavs so far developed in scorbutic bestiality as to make even the vilest of our chavs blush for shame and say, “egh yer wha’, fockin hell that’s fockin focked, innit, knowharrimean?”

A Mark Zuckerberg would probably faint at the truth, so his kind are instead told they need to destroy nationalism, race, the family, all traditional European cultures, all religion save Islam, to create a harmonious world where everyone is mixed race and everyone is happy and is on Facebook. Although holding hands with the old evil that has always attempted the destruction of our world, people like Zuckerberg are merely stupid and wicked.

7. Most of those on the Left aren’t evil, i suppose; they are merely useful tools for evil in its various hierarchies of purpose. Thus a German friend of mine, let’s call her Rosemarie: has 3 children, one grandchild, a good job in a big German engineering company; her long-term partner is CEO of another company, they live in a large, soulless house in a nice suburb of Munich, with three Porsches and a BMW; she has a revolting pug called George Clooney, a wheezing ratlike abomination which tends to nervously vomit and shiver with fright; she coos and coddles this beast; she likes modern U2 and Coldplay and the most bland, over-produced music; she only reads Romance novels with a happy ending; she says the spoken German of Franz-Josef Strauss is “scary” and sounds like Hitler; she likes Gregor Gysi:

she goes “ooohhh!!!” over babies and kittens and puppies; when the Merkel invited the entire 3rd World to live off German welfare, Rosemarie immediately posted “Refugees Welcome!!!” on her Facebook page, but when i asked if one of my dandy friends could crash in her guest room for a few nights (he was sleeping in his car) she said no, strangers aren’t allowed in her house; after the Cologne sex attacks she asked where she can buy pepper spray and said she was now scared to work in the evening, in case someone attacked her in the car park; she never takes public transport because “there are too many dirty people there”; she has the typical materialist attitude that any recognition of death or suffering is morbid; while her life hasn’t been entirely easy, she’s never had to worry about money, and has high status in her social circles. She loves Mark Zuckerberg and forced me to read his “open letter” to his baby daughter, a nauseating piece of progressive gibberish full of the usual platitudes, pretty much what one would expect from a billionaire who attacks Trump for seeking to enforce America’s immigration laws, and then builds a giant wall around his Hawaii mansion.

People like Rosemarie are the mass infantry of the evil in our world – paint something pink and slap a happy smile on it, and they’ll enthusiastically support it, and call you a Nazi if you have your doubts. But they too will wake up.

 

 

 

1. Spring is here, so i’m spending what free time i have on my balcony, reading. When my Albanian neighbours come onto their balcony to scream & bellow in their heathen tongue, i put my headphones on and listen to John Coltrane at high volume. i was reading Von Moltke’s letters to his wife over the weekend, and came across this, written in Berlin on 29th October 1939:

Mein Armer, die Zeiten sind schlecht und es ist keine Aussicht darauf, daß sie besser werden. Mit dem Kopf kann ich keinen Grund finden, warum sich irgendetwas bessern sollte in vielen Jahren. Und leider kann ich reichlich Gründe finden, warum die Zeiten noch wesentlich schlechter werden. 

My poor dear, these are dark times and seem likely to remain so. I can’t think of any reason to suppose things should get better in the future. It seems alas likely that our times will grow darker yet.

(my loose translation)

Here’s Von Moltke at the Volksgericht:

2. The German Resistance to the Nazis was an odd hotchpotch of Commies, socialists, genuine Jew-hating fascists who wanted a stop to a doomed war, and old school conservatives like Von Moltke – the latter generally very Christian, Von Moltke i believe Protestant, Von Stauffenberg very much a Catholic badass:

 

Even those of a socialist leaning, like Adam von Trott zu Solz, would have been appalled at the hordes of military-age migrant Sand Peoples swarming into Europe to rape with impunity while today’s Left grin about “diversity” and talk openly, with glee, of a white-free Germany – Weißrein or Weißfrei, i suppose.

It is said, that when Von Stauffenberg was lined up to be shot in a Bendlerstraße courtyard, his last words were: “Es lebe unser heiliges Deutschland!” (long live our sacred Germany); other reports have it: “Es lebe das geheime Deutschland!” (long live the secret Germany).

3. One can see the human being as a psycho-physical complex – we are mostly aware of the interplay between mind & body, how thoughts & emotions interact with each other, and with the body, and vice versa; but the mind is subject to the influence of a swirling mass of rarefied & occult forces, which range from non-physical intelligences (e.g. the spirits of dead people) through to simple & usually temporary constructs, vast collective shapes (e.g. nations, religions), and gods.

The “vast collective shapes” seem to develop naturally when societies are large enough. Looking at the phenomenon of Islam in its first centuries, or the Mongol Horde that saved Europe from Islam, or Christian fervour, i think it would be unwise not to acknowledge there are forces capable of more or less spontaneously arising in a few charismatic individuals, and spreading to millions.

The Left speak much the same language of collectivist zeal as 7th C Muslims – convert or die! – in a milder form at present, but as one sees from the Leftist violence that disrupted most Trump rallies, they are fond of the tactics of which they accuse their adversaries.

4. Looking at the Left, i note a great many who would have become 17th Century Ranters, witchburners, shrieking Medieval hystericals like the frightful Margery Kempe: among the Leftists i know there are at least two with the Borderline Personality Disorder, a Narcissist, two manic-depressives, and a surprising number of women who seem to have been sexually abused in their childhood.

Now i’m not one to cast stones at Insanity Glasshouses, but by contrast i feel suddenly rather balanced and down-to-earth. My non-idyllic childhood holds almost no interest for me, and i think my trajectory has been towards normality (this Elberry life is the first i know of where most people i meet think i’m nice – odd, given how many overlaps there are between this life and my alarming others).

5. The Left has become a new mould into which the vast collective forces are pouring, and it seems there are deeper patterns to such things, for in many ways Leftism seems like a perverted Christianity:

5.1 Original Sin – if you’re born white or male you are racist scum, even if you’re not. And not being racist is a form of racism now. All you can do is give all your money to the Church (the Left) and grovel for forgiveness, but no amount of groveling will ever suffice, because of your Original Sin.

5.2 Peace & love & happiness for all – but by reducing everyone to the same level, the lowest level (“socialism”), oh, except for blacks and Muslims and gays and transgenders, and paedophiles – they should be more equal than everyone else.

5.3 Confession – you must admit to your privilege, as publicly as possible.

5.4 Crusades – destroy anyone who disagrees with you.

5.5 Satan – the Devil exists and is at work.

6. Sacred and/or secret Germany: the nation exists as an idea; a force existing outside of our physical reality. It continues to influence those who live in this terrain; it is, in a sense, our terroir and particular sun, an accustomed angle of planetary light.

The nation has an instinctive life to it, a sense of what fits & what does not; and perhaps the gods are as Forestals to the old woods, embodied guardians of a broader, unconscious life.

7. Bavaria is in some way protected from the obliteration wreaked upon most of Western Europe; i think it has some kind of warding spirit about it, embodied in the language and, amusingly enough, in little things like the Tracht, the semi-traditional/semi-invented costume of Lederhosen & Dirndl – the customs & traditions act as an anchor for the warding influence, which is why every cultural overlord will aim to destroy or compromise:

i) The genetic base of the population;

ii) The language;

iii) The traditions and customs.

It may be relevant that the Welsh of all people voted mostly against the EU, and they keep their language alive as the Irish & Scots do not (and modern UK English has become a hideous chavsprache, under the shadow of American).

8. There were many objections to the EU; for me it was always just a bad smell, a reek even: the EU was an attempt to obliterate the nation-forms, and those who see it as nothing but a legal entity lack a sense of the metaphysical framework of our social consciousness – and so either wouldn’t notice how it eroded tradition, custom, sovereignty; or wouldn’t care; or would positively welcome such destruction.

9. Germany is, in a sense, damned. The Germans are natural Besserwissers, know-it-alls who think their way is best and everyone should be like them. Many of my students have angrily snapped at me: “you Engländers are thinking you are special and you hating Europa!” as if wanting to preserve national sovereignty is a hate crime – typical behaviour from such folk.

The German nation idea is naturally domineering and imperialistic – very like the Ancient Romans and probably the Victorian & Edwardian English. The EU was an attempt to impose German hegemony on the world, starting with the old foes: France, England, the Mediterranean, and Eastern Europe; but in the process, it was necessary to destroy German culture, to exterminate the white population and impose Islam on Germany. That is typically German – clever, ruthless, brutal, and yet ultimately suicidal.

i have occasionally wondered that the Merkel and others are fully in bed with the globalists, hate their own people, and yet everything they do seems designed to push the electorate into the arms of the anti-globalists. i don’t think they are playing a long game; i think they are in a sense deeply stupid and deluded: they believe they can indefinitely cow entire nations with censorship and the police state, and swing elections with propaganda. Well, it worked for the USSR – but only up to a point; and bear in mind Russia in 1917 was a nation accustomed to rulers and despots, with little free speech – even compared to the UK, where you can expect a visit from the constabulary for making a joke. And we saw, with the US elections, just how wrong their polling can be.

Many people say we are in Late Roman Empire phase, and the Hun are about to cross the frozen Rhine the Muslims are going to cross the Mediterranean en masse. In a sense this is so.

i see no hope in a political sense – elections etc. are all very well but if about half the electorate actively hate their own country and their race and culture (as seems the case, judging from the Hillary/EU supporters), combined with the entire 3rd World swarming into Europe, waving scimitars and screaming while the champagne socialists retreat into the gated communities/100% white rural villages and utter platitudes about diversity, it all looks pretty bleak.

And yet, there is hope. We are not merely repeating the Weimar Republic. There is a metaphysical transformation underway. It is beginning to manifest in certain individuals, who are all pointing in a similar direction from their own unique standpoints; i could name Bruce Charlton, David Warren, Tarl Warwick, Varg Vikernes.

There are materialist liberal democrats who think we can just turn the clock back to the mid-90s, but this is mistaken. The old order, being utterly materialistic, could not long continue – the inevitable energies of spirit would have destroyed it, one way or the other. Only through spirit, can the material world exist; and one might take comfort from this, that for all the malign force at work in the established order of international finance and socialism, there is an opposing force – were there not, this whole planet would have destroyed itself long ago.

 

 

 

 

 

i’m experimenting with memes, posting them on my Elberried blog. So far it’s about twice a week, not sure if it will increase or decrease in frequency but they’re extremely easy to make and fun, and so it will doubtless continue.

i finally saw Rogue One, and was of course disappointed, as i am by everything in the modern world. However, it was passable entertainment and i can’t sleep, so here are my immediate reactions.

1. It has Mads Mikkelsen, which is obviously a good thing. It also, in the first 5 minutes, has the line: “You’re a hard man to find.” Presumably, the script will also feature: “drop the gun”, “let the girl go”, “we’ve got company” and “I have a bad feeling about this.”

2. Mikkelsen’s daughter grows up to be a Feminist called Jayna Oso. Inevitably, she is amazing at everything and can take down half a dozen Stormtroopers while the Rebel men stand there looking amazed, because they are stupid and useless and women kick ass and are like totally awesome.

3. Only fully-rounded and worthwhile character is a robot who has Tourette’s and seems to be modelled on Withnail.

4. Feminist runs around being petulant. She berates a real Rebel: “you might as well be a Stormtrooper!” – next she will call him a Nazi and a fascist and then put on a vagina hat and cry because Vader is President and her father is Hannibal Lector.

5. Some gooks appear. One is blind, another carries a huge-ass gun.

6. Forrest Whittaker appears, inexplicably.

7. i have no idea what is going on.

8. The Feminist is really getting on my nerves. She needs a good slap.

9. Darth Vader appears. His voice is highly unsatisfying. Also he doesn’t look as daunting as in the original trilogy.

10. Some good X-Wing pilots with 1940 RAF ‘staches. The battle scenes are all very well done, and the air combat has the “Spitfire vs Messerschmidt” magic of yore.

11. People are running around and saying things like “rebellions are built on hope” and everyone nods like that makes sense and is a sound basis for tactical operations. They should all die.

12. Peter Cushing appears. He looks kind of weird, like Hillary Clinton. Isn’t he dead? What year is it? Did i imagine the original Star Wars films, or did they really happen?

13. People shooting at other people. i’m only vaguely aware that the good guys are trying to get into a bad guy base to do something but i don’t know what. Am i supposed to know?

14. Soundtrack is like Peter Cushing’s face.

15. Vader slaughters a dozen Rebels with the Force and his glowing red phallus. Vader is Oh Dae-Su armed with a lightsaber instead of hammer, slaying his way down a corridor of scum – they should have just repeated this scene two hundred times, spliced in a few 1940s RAF ‘staches, kept the two gooks (who were rather good), had an enigmatic 2-seconds of Forrest Whittaker using his Frank Booth mask

and cut the rest of the film, i would have happily watched this for two hours, cheering “crush those Rebel scum, Lord Vader! For fascism! Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!”

15. The plucky heroes succeed in whatever they were trying to do.

16. Everyone dies.

17. Carrie Fisher appears. Isn’t she dead? Maybe i’m dead and we are in the Congress with Robin Wright:

 

1. There has indeed been an awakening in the Force: i recently discovered how to consistently taste pipe tobacco; it sounds highly peculiar after 5 years of pipe-smoking, but for long i only tasted the baccy sporadically, the rest of the time merely savouring the warmth, texture, and nicotine. i have now discovered that by filling the old gob with smoke, holding, then exhaling through my nose, i can taste – well, most of the time, the smoke goblin having its own mercurial whims.

2. A few weeks ago i talked to a new colleague, a purple-haired young German teacher who i had often passed without a word, but the sense that we were mutually aware; this time she was wearing a sweatshirt with a so-called Satanic cross (actually a Leviathan Cross), and so i said, with my usual tact: “Are you a Satanist?” – and behold, much occult talk ensued.

She showed me her 80s denim jacket, emblazoned with what she called runes, but which were to me unknown and unrunic symbols; later, i realised they were alchemical symbols and started researching, feeling slightly abashed at my ignorance. i then decided to read more about the modern occult…

3. As ever, the frustrating sense that almost all occult works are nonsense, written by idiots and charlatans. i started reading a Franz Bardon book but gave up after 5 minutes; it seemed, more from the prose than the content, to be spurious; there was an offputting smell, reminiscent of modern academic prose; then i Googled his image:

There are men & women of real occult knowledge & capability, but all those i know in person tend to be reclusive. They naturally attract would-be disciples and stalkers, and repel them with a thorny eremitude. Invisibility is the condition and consequence of true power; the thorn and the rose.

i didn’t feel interested in wading through Bardon, because even in translation i felt he was a charlatan and poseur; of course, “theatricality & deception” have their place, for public effect, but stage magic and politics are not my cup of tea.

4. However, fruitless reading aside, my recent occult focus has naturally enough wrought changes in myself & my life – some odd synchronicities, for example earlier this week i saw three blind men on my travels, one in the morning (about 0845), another on the way home (about 1810) and yet another on the train at about 1830. The last time i saw a blind man was, i deem, months ago. There have also been repeated & odd crow/magpie sightings, birds of notorious repute. And yesterday, i told an old student that most of all i miss having a dog, and then an hour later was in McLingua and the first thing i saw, in the teacher room, was a rather dashing hound called Poldy – belonging to a gorgeous German teacher, who has been amusedly pleasant with me since i drunkedly told her (at a Xmas party): “Every time i see you, i admire your great beauty.” Poldy sniffed my knee and she said, “He likes you,” and i to her: “i smell like a dog, to dogs.”

5. It recently occurred to me, contemplating cause & effect, and the workings of fate, that the universe itself might be sentient. i had often wondered exactly how causality operates, how synchronicities across lives can mesh so exactly. Most in the West would now see the universe as essentially mechanistic (as is often the way, people see the world as akin to the last stage of technology). But when i consider how e.g. i came into contact with my eldest sister from my last life, i think there must be a kind of organic agency in the universe, arranging these rendezvous through a billion minute adjustments.

6. i’ve also been memorising poetry, after years. In my youth i memorised over a thousand lines of poetry (Eliot, Yeats, Stevens, Dante, Tennyson), and rather than rememorise these, i decided to let them decay and so memorised a new poem: Wallace Steven’s ‘The Snow Man’. At the same time, i’ve been copying, by hand, passages from Gordon Sander’s excellent The Hundred Day Winter War in a notebook for future use.

In both cases – memorising & copying – i found myself sensitized to meaning & language, thinking “why this and not this?”, e.g. why “the spruces” and not “the spruce” – because one tends to remember incorrectly, and must then attend; infelicities of prose are also more evident as one copies (especially by hand).

Thinking back 20 years (the spring is over), my mind really came alive when i started a practice of copying out passages i liked in notebooks now destroyed, and when i began to memorise poetry. The old schooling, as is often the case, served us well though we knew it not.

7. i feel rather excited by politics & this world, for the first time in, well, my life. Politics is always a sideshow, but it is a good indicator for deeper, more important changes. Since i became vaguely interested in society & whatnot, about 12 years ago, i felt alienated from this entire world, with academia corrupted & made a grotesque Leftist bureaucracy, and me seemingly unemployable in any except the dreariest of tasks.

And now, very quickly, this monstrous order is being undone – in part by our hubristic rulers, in part by rogues like Trump. Thus i felt with Dune’s Gurney Halleck, when – months after escaping the destruction of his armies, of his Duke, and, as he thinks, the Duke’s son & concubine, months of running smuggler operations in the desert in a life without loyalty or meaning – he is ambushed by the Fremen under the rule of the Duke’s son, Paul Atreides, alive after all:

‘Stilgar,’ Paul said, ‘this is Gurney Halleck of whom you’ve heard me speak. My father’s master-of-arms, one of the swordmasters who instructed me, an old friend. He can be trusted in any venture.’

‘I hear,’ Stilgar said. ‘You are his Duke.’

Paul stared at the dark visage above him, wondering at the reasons which had impelled Stilgar to say just that. His Duke. There had been a strange subtle intonation in Stilgar’s voice, as though he would rather have said something else. And that wasn’t like Stilgar, who was a leader of Fremen, a man who spoke his mind.

My Duke! Gurney thought. He looked anew at Paul. Yes, with Leto dead, the title fell on Paul’s shoulders.

The pattern of the Fremen war on Arrakis began to take on new shape in Gurney’s mind. My Duke! A place that had been dead within him began coming alive.

i had long supposed our world on an inexorable downward trajectory, but by inviting the entire 3rd World into Europe, the Merkel & her backers have merely initiated a cultural change – not into Bradfordisation as they hope, but into chaos, perhaps a race war, but in any case i feel our reality is suddenly altered, and new possibilities are upon us. Most of those with comfy secure jobs, emotionally invested in the collectivist order, are baffled and angry and will probably go mad and end up crawling about on the floor eating bugs and smearing themselves with dog poo, as they deserve. Those with a nose think Oho:

If you had told someone half a decade ago here in the United States ‘the next president is going to run on a populist platform from within the Republican Party, after constantly insulting his opponents, completely lambasting the very political process he’s taking part in’, do you think anyone would have believed you?
‘Oh and by the way, it’s going to be Donald Trump.’

Nobody would have believed you. They would have called you nuts, they would have dragged you off to the funny farm. The mere fact that they have to discuss these things bothers them.

8. It is not merely a political change; the collective imagination is changing, and not just because of the Merkelization of Europe – this change began in the metaphysical stratum; what we are seeing cannot be suppressed by the usual lying mainstream media, by accusing Trump and Nigel Farage and Le Pen of being Russian spies – because it begins in the cellarage of our culture & our imagination & thought. Already, i’ve noted more & more Germands & others, who 6 months ago said “Donald Trump is stupid and crazy” now saying he can’t be as evil as the media make him out to be. The next step is to think, If the media are deliberately smearing him, if the media are so determined to manipulate & deceive, then the media have a wicked agenda, and therefore whoever they hate is presumably one of the good guys. A comment i found on some joke page on Facebook:

me: i feel the need. the need for speed:
Lord: you can be my wingman anytime
Me: take me to bed or lose me forever
Lord: ok but i’ma kill goose real quick
me: wtf

That’s it exactly. The egg is cracking from within, the baby bird emerging, and the globalist goose is cooked.

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