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Since (surprisingly) readers wanted to know more about what i’m reading, here goes:

1. i’ve been very very slowly making my way through the King James from start to finish, am now on Exodus as Moses leads the ungrateful Jews through the desert. The mythic glow of Genesis is somewhat fading now, though there are enough odd moments to give one pause. Genesis remains inexhaustibly human & strange. The scene where Joseph’s brothers come as suppliants before him, and innocently tell of their father, imagining Joseph to be merely some great man among the Egyptians and not the brother they betrayed and lost, years ago:

And when Joseph came home, they brought him the present which was in their hand into the house, and bowed themselves to him to the earth.

And he asked them of their welfare, and said, Is your father well, the old man of whom ye spake? Is he yet alive?

And they answered, Thy servant our father is in good health, he is yet alive. And they bowed down their heads, and made obeisance.

And he lifted up his eyes, and saw his brother Benjamin, his mother’s son, and said, Is this your younger brother, of whom ye spake unto me? And he said, God be gracious unto thee, my son.

And Joseph made haste; for his bowels did yearn upon his brother: and he sought where to weep; and he entered into his chamber, and wept there.

(Genesis 43, 26-30)

Joseph’s youthful dreams of supremacy are here fulfilled but, as is the way of things, not as he would once have expected. For his brothers to call his father “thy servant”!

And from Book 8 of the Odyssey as the bard sings of the Trojan War, with the incognito Odysseus among the guests:

But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, the Muse moved the bard to sing of warriors’ deeds, from that tale all knew, the quarrel of Odysseus and Achilles, son of Peleus, how they strove with furious words  […]

Thus sang the bard; but Odysseus hid his face under his cloak; for he was ashamed to weep before this company. And as the bard paused in his song, Odysseus wiped away his tears and pulled the cloak back, and taking the two-handled cup poured libations to the gods. 

The great Odysseus, hiding his fame & identity, is troubled & weeps hearing his own story told to him; and would conceal his tears, like Joseph (one could also mention Aeneas before the walls of Carthage, mentem mortalia tangunt).

2. Judah it was who decided not to slay Joseph out of hand, but rather to make some shekels and sell him to the slavers; and years later when Joseph demands that Benjamin become his captive, Judah protests:

Now therefore when I come to thy servant my father, and the lad be not with us; seeing that his life is bound up in the lad’s life;

It shall come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is not with us, that he will die: and thy servants shall bring down the gray hairs of thy servant our father with sorrow to the grave.

For thy servant became surety for the lad unto my father, saying, If I bring him not unto thee, then I shall bear the blame to my father for ever.

Now therefore, I pray thee, let thy servant abide instead of the lad a bondman to my lord; and let the lad go up with his brethren. 

For how shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with me? 

(Genesis 44, 30-34)

It is in a sense an ordinary human story of fathers and sons and brothers and responsibility (Tolstoy-like); and inevitably, as the first book of the Christian Bible, one must note the pattern of sin and redemption – Judah of all people offering to take the place of Benjamin, to as it were remake and transform his betrayal of his other brother Joseph; and partner in this transformation – Joseph.

The story has a mythic multiplicity to it, something of the fractal nature of Paradise Lost or Hamlet as it is not merely Judah who is a sinner/redemptive figure, but also Joseph:

And he wept aloud: and the Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh heard.

And Joseph said unto his brethren, I am Joseph; doth my father yet live? And his brethren could not answer him; for they were troubled at his presence.

And Joseph said unto his brethren, Come near to me, I pray you. And they came near. And he said, I am Joseph your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt.

Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life. 

For these two years hath the famine been in the land: and yet there are five years, in the which there shall neither be earing nor harvest.

And God sent me before you to preserve you a posterity in the earth, and to save your lives by a great deliverance.

(Genesis 45, 2-7)

The vain boaster & polisher Joseph has, through years in the pit, become an archegos (i vaguely recall the Greek used in the Epistle of the Hebrews can, among other things, refer to a sailor who would swim to shore with a rope, to guide the boat safely in). One could also compare his brothers’ consternation to the uncanny aspect of the Risen Christ, who is in some way both familiar & unrecognisable:

And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you.

But they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they had seen a spirit.

And he said unto them, Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts?

(Luke 24, 36-38)

3. Anyway, i dare say all of the above has been amply noted by others, over the last few centuries, but that is the way of things.


Hopefully this will work. So: i have usually several ideas i could blog about and just select whatever is foremost when i sit down and feel like blogging. Since i disabled comments i have almost no feedback, which is fine but it wouldn’t take much effort for me to alter my focus a little so i’ve created this poll.

i’m testing polls and whatnot.

1. i remember – but am unable to locate – a passage in one of David Gemmell’s (post-apocalyptic Western) Jon Shannow books, where the eponymous anti-hero debates pacifism and religion. Shannow is a man of the Bible who slaughters bandits and the unrighteous with his Wild West-era guns. It vexes me to be unable to locate the passage, but as i recall it, Shannow is talking to some pacifist type who asks him, when the Israelites, the followers of your god, killed every man, woman, and child in Jericho, which side would you have been on? And Shannow replies that he would have defended the Canaanites against his own god.

2. i have a South African colleague who relocated to Germany after enterprising negroes broke into a house where he was staying with his pregnant wife and small child, tied them up and demanded to know where the money was kept. He managed to convince them that he was only a guest and perhaps these were relatively amiable robbers for, in his words “they let us go. Normally they rape the women and kill the men.”

3. i’ve for a while been conflicted about the sand people takeover of Europe: on the one hand Europe is the ancestral home of the whites and the sand peoples are invaders. On the other hand, until our current Great Replacement the English were mostly Anglo-Saxon with some Viking blood (Norman and otherwise). Could one argue that since the whites’ distant ancestors stole the land from the Celts one and a half millennia ago, it’s fine for Iraqis and Somalians and Pakistanis to swarm into England, raping white girls and eventually taking over the entire country by force? And what of the white South Africans? Obviously, without whites Africa will relapse completely into a Liberia or Baltimore-style hell, but could one argue that the whites have a right to be there?

4. i decided that one needs to discard any notion of rights or fairness in such matters. Rights are for legal agreements only, e.g. if i pay for a product i have the right to receive it as advertised. Fairness makes no sense at all on the large scale. i don’t resent Arabs and Pakistanis and negroes taking over Europe because it’s in some way unfair; it is not a question of fair or unfair, though of course one could cite welfare & crime statistics to make an argument for their physical removal. The real question is simply: you want to invade our land, we don’t want you here. The stronger will prevail.

5. The fairness argument isn’t so much childishly Christian as inappropriate on the large scale. If i find 2 Euros on the bus and then later meet the person who dropped it, i think it would be fair for me to give him or her 2 Euros, and it would be a bit shitty not to. If i meet someone my father stole from, and if i inherited my father’s sadly non-existent sacks of gold, it would be fair to reimburse the victim, though i think i could be excused for keeping my gold for pipes & whisky since i didn’t consent to, or have knowledge of, the original crime.

The further back this goes, the less i feel that one can talk of fair or unfair, e.g. if an ancestor of mine, in the Saxon invasions 1600 years ago, stole loot from a comrade and used it to become a minor lord, and i am now extremely rich, i would feel it absurd for the victim’s descendant to demand recompense.

6. In a sense i don’t even blame the invaders: they see a soft, feminized culture and a generous welfare system, and a complaisant and indeed compliant police force, and have ambitions to become, at the least, akin to American negroes living pleasantly off welfare & blaming the White Devil for everything; and realistically they can probably hope to take Europe over and impose Sharia law, not a clitoris unshorn from Galway to Berlin, by Allah.

i wouldn’t trouble too much about whether it’s right or wrong. On the large scale, fairness is just posturing. The invaders have no less a right to dominate Europe than had the Anglo-Saxons against whom fought rex quondam rexque futurus. The only difference, i suppose, is that the Normans/Vikings and Anglo-Saxons and Celts were not such dissimilar ethnic groups or cultures and so while much was lost in each conquest it was more like the Alsace-Lorraine question – Germans and French look quite different to my eye, and their culture seems very different, but at the end of the day i don’t think you can compare it to the Pakistanis taking over Yorkshire.

7. When the next financial crash wipes away the middle class and reduces welfare to the bare minimum, i imagine talk of fairness and human rights will be swiftly discarded. At that point i think the Europeans will accept any means to remove kebab, and nobody will talk of fairness anymore – only of efficiency.

Luckily, the Germans can be quite efficient, when they set their minds to it.

1.  The end of childhood amnesia generally coincides with mastery of our native language’s grammar. Grammar, as i see it, is to do with time & space, e.g. German grammar is primarily about hierarchies, causal relation, master/slave, whereas English grammar is primarily about time. Perhaps, upon learning our native language’s grammar, we learn to order experience & memory, and so our earlier experience becomes largely inaccessible; being as it were untagged.

i long thought Huginn and Munnin, Odin’s ravens, could be translated as thought & memory; however as one would expect it is more complicated – Munnin being perhaps “mind”:

Huginn and Muninn fly each day
over the wide earth.
I fear for Hugin,

that he will not return,
but yet I fear more for Munin.

2. i gave this article by the Z Man to a group last week; one of the students, a presumably Leftist/globalist technocrat computer programmer, asked what the blog is about. – Politics, i said vaguely. He asked what kind of politics and i said, – The Alternative Right, i suppose.

When i don’t want to scare normies too much i say i’m conservative or old-fashioned. i think we’re at a point now where conservative is literally meaningless – there is nothing left to conserve. A modern conservative is perforce a dreamer, a man in tweed who wishes the things thrown away during or before his lifetime had been conserved. The treasures of the past are not so distant as to be a utopian dream; i met enough people of the better world in my youth to know that even if that world is gone, destroyed by the Left, it wasn’t some Medieval vision of parapets and swooning ladies – it was a real civilisation.

Surprisingly, i’ve found that living in Bavaria is like moving backwards in time – back down the vein of Europe. And the same evil which has almost totally destroyed England is now at work here, with unseemly haste.

3. i’ve been feeling a bit odd of late. i was run over by a car 2 or 3 weeks ago, not much damage but my left shoulder gives me grief. Had the car been heavier or had a longer acceleration phase i would probably be all fucked up or dead. In a sense i feel, as when i nearly died of asthma in 2012, that one version of me did indeed die. Whether this is some multidimensional Elberry manifestation Matrix awareness whollabaloo or whether it’s just in my head, but i feel that i as it were exhausted and cast my extant life aside in near-death and another Elberry took up the mantle of slaughter & fascistic dreaming & humanitarianism.

4. i’ve been idly following the uranium scandal and had an amusing idea – what if Putin was actually quite keen on having Crooked Hillary in the White House (on the one hand she would have pressed for war with Iran and would almost certainly have invaded Syria; on the other hand she is predictable and corrupt and so could be bought off or blackmailed, since the Russians probably have dossiers of dirt on her, especially connected with the uranium sale); what if the Russians actually worked to create the dossier on Trump as a Russian spy, gave him dirt on Hillary in order to lay breadcrumbs for a future “Trump is a Russian!” story in classic Russian compromise tactics. That is, it’s not merely dear old Hillary who’s pushing the Trump/Russia narrative – it’s Russia. It would have a pleasing symmetry to it.

1. From this good (long) article about architecture:

There is, generally speaking, too great of a desire for architecture to convey ideas. Architects obsess over the ideas that they are embodying in their buildings. But most people who use a building don’t understand whatever abstract theoretical notion the architect was trying to convey. Far more important than “ideas” are the feelings that a building generates, the experiences people will have in it, and these should be given priority.

Likewise, “form” is dwelled on excessively; architects care far more about the shape of the building than whether its inhabitants are comfortable. 

2. When i think of the baby boomer professor who has spent 20 years insinuating that i’m a Nazi, in the SS, in the Gestapo, that i’m Adolf Hitler, because i don’t agree with the Professor on everything, i wonder if my sense of myself (as an essentially harmless, vaguely benign but ineffectual person of no import) is wholly mistaken, and i am in fact slaughtering the six gorillion for breakfast every day.

With the Professor, it seems that words & ideas are more important than actions & character – as befits a lifelong academic, whose only non-academic relations are with rentboys, with whom discourse is presumably scant.

i recall a lecture of his on Shelley in the late 90s: he glowingly quoted some of Shelley’s anti-authoritarian, hedonistic prose and then gushed that, although Shelley treated people badly and was, by all accounts, a selfish & horrible person, “he was on the side of the angels – not that there are any angels” (the Professor was at this point in his life a vitriolic anti-Christian who would lambast and jeer at Christians, but has recently become a camp Catholic who gushes about “Our Lady” and “Our Lord”, while persisting in his homosexuality). Even at the time i felt there was something wrong here, that if Shelley the man was a piece of shit he couldn’t really have been “on the side of the angels”.

3. In our age, actions & behaviour are generally considered secondary to ideas & words. i find this evidently wrong-headed, perhaps because i could probably write for e.g. Salon, Vice, or Slate as a rhetorical exercise, and so i know that words and professed ideas are cheap, that people say things they don’t mean all the time; but if you step back and look at the entirety of their social life & deeds a truer picture will emerge. Think of Samuel Johnson, who could argue any point he fancied, with intense aggression & confidence & verve; and then consider his life, his many acts of kindness; or Samuel Beckett’s literary despair and personal goodness – though one could argue that both are great writers because the two intersect, e.g. Johnson’s piece on Richard Savage, or the humour & warmth flickering sporadically throughout Beckett’s works. What a repulsive, hectoring bore Shelley would have become, had he lived longer – as it is, his works at least have their magnificent aural qualities, and the energy of adolescence.

4. Perhaps one difference between the modern Right and Left – for those i know on the Right, ideas and opinions and words are at best interesting: deeds are of much greater import; but everyone i know on the Left is outraged & scandalized & appalled by words and ideas outside of the mainstream (since the mainstream is now the entire Left), and mere deeds & character don’t even enter into it.

5. i sometimes tell people i’m “more on the Right” – they stare at me as if i just said i made a Hitler statue out of dead kittens. The Left is basically now the entirety of the mainstream, as one can see from such horrified reactions; Lefties spout their opinions in person and on Facebook, quite proudly, whereas i know almost no one on even the very very mild Right who discusses politics or society outside of a small circle of like-minded chaps: the Leftist instinctively knows that to proclaim Trump to be literally Hitler, to exclaim that we should have no borders, and no one should be rich or in any way better than anyone else, and how all men are primitive bastards – all this will win one social approval, Facebook likes, and a cushy job at the UN or Guardian or Spiegel etc.; while everyone instinctively knows that to say “maybe uncontrolled mass immigration is incompatible with welfare” will land you extreme social condemnation and possibly a visit from the police and a jail sentence for hate speech.

6. i don’t dismiss theory and words; but to draw a parallel between money and language, public discourse has entered a Weimar-style inflation and where value persists it is typically in those outside of the mainstream, those on the margins. It is as if, where public figures & journalists are using the debased Papiermark, some obscurer men are still buying & selling with the Goldmark. Their currency won’t be accepted by liberal elites, precisely because it has value.

7. Words can be a form of action. Words, ideas, and deeds all arise from the complex of a man’s character. In our culture we are weighted towards theory, as if the actual reality is insignificant (see those who continue to argue for Communism). Lefties inhabit what i call the hell of hungry ghosts, tormented & fed by ideas and slogans, unable to tolerate divergent opinion or solid human reality. While i come across such types on the Right from time to time, they seem comparatively rare; the predominance of theory is more of a Leftist pathology, perhaps because most of what the Left wants is bad for people and so one needs theory to explain away or deny the consequences, and to imprison those who stand up with their tedious sheets of statistics and sound arguments. i think this is also one reason the Left oppose free speech – because they know they will lose any cold, rational debate. They thrive in a hothouse atmosphere of hyperinflated rhetoric & fanciful theory, where every tendentious statement could be footnoted “as Marx proved” or “as Foucault demonstrated”.

8. i came across this by chance, and while i have no idea if Neil Gorsuch is what he seems in this video, at least from these thirteen minutes he seems a solid man, as far from the hungry ghosts as one could imagine. There is often a quietness about the solid man in today’s world; he must learn quietness, to manifest what he is by his actions – since his words and his values are strictly haram.

1. The Gook has become a recent bane of my existence. He only works about 2 hours a day but spends another 8 in the McLingua teacher room, eating huge snacks to maintain his 400 lb bulk, usually in his Lederhosen. He drives everyone else out by his unstoppable babble and habit of thrusting his iphone in colleagues’ faces to force them to watch Bavarian dancing videos and other atrocities. The last time he did this, i was on a 5 minute tea break and asked, warily, – How long is this?

– Dude! It’s not long! Just watch it!

i squinted at the timebar and saw it was 12 minutes long and walked out.

He often greets people with a question, the answer to which he pays no heed – it is merely an opening for him to start telling the room how immensely Bavarian he is, e.g.

i enter the room to make a cup of tea.

The Gook: Hey! Dude! What do you think of the Commonwealth?

me: i don’t know.

the Gook: Listen, in Bavaria we have one culture but no one cares about your genetics, because in Bavaria if you’re Bavarian everyone knows by the way you talk.

me [pouring water into the kettle]: Okay.

the Gook: Listen, I have a Stammtisch at the Hofbräuhaus and everyone there wears this really expensive Lederhosen, like mine. Hey dude, look at my belt – I bought this in Miesbach, it cost 3000 Euros. This is real deer leather. And any Bavarian looking at it would know exactly where I’m from.

me: Okay.

He’s recently started talking about Jesus for some inexplicable reason, real school shooter stuff: “Hey, I believe in God and God has a plan and he wanted me to be born in Bavaria because I’m part of his plan, and I have faith that God wants me to be here. I believe that, I really believe that.”

As far as i can gather he was born in hillbilly Bavaria, to a gook father and German mother, moved to America in his teens, then came back alone a couple of years ago. He’s studying some worthless degree at university here and teaching because it’s his only form of social interaction. He certainly doesn’t seem to need the work for money, as his parents send him dollops of dollars and i think have paid for his flat. They are stinking rich and he has that veneer of wealth: he’s basically mildly stupid but has an opinion on everything, and he sounds educated – it’s just that he doesn’t read anything and has nothing intelligent to say on anything, rather unfortunate given his unstoppable babble.

2. Like almost every non-white i know, he’s unable to understand why Europe won’t be Europe soon. He’s an ardent civic nationalist who – rather oddly, given he was shocked by my racial politics – says anyone living here who disrespects Bavaria should be executed, that Munich people aren’t really Bavarian, and proudly told an Israeli Jewish colleague his grandfather was in the SS; but he cannot even begin to accept that race may influence IQ or culture, or even accept that a Europe without a single white person wouldn’t be Europe, even if all the sand peoples adopted European culture.

He became aggrieved and louder than usual when i made these points, because his own self-worth rests wholly on how immensely Bavarian he is, and to be fair he really does speak 100% hillbilly Bavarian and is festooned with hideous Lederhosen & Bavarian accessories. For him to accept that our very existence endangers the thing we love (i am half-Indian), would require a grim honesty not in keeping with his superficial, American character (despite constantly banging on about how Bavarian he is, he strikes me as very American).

Of course, despite being both mongrels we have many differences: i’m broke and always have been; i’m comfortable with self-hatred; and whereas Bavaria is almost completely white, in my hometown whites are a minority, so he & i naturally draw different conclusions.

3. i was thinking of the Gook when i read this. A student at Cambridge University is demanding white authors be replaced by blacks. Instead of being kicked out for her insolence, the department are apparently considering her demands (hopefully they will just hum and haw and do nothing, in true academic style). Three things stood out: the student is a woman; the student is an “officer” of the Student Union; the student is called Lola Olufemi.

At Durham i found that the Student Union comprised mostly degenerates and those naturally drawn to politics such as my inveterate apple polisher friend Bob the Coward. The invaders will naturally hustle themselves into positions of power in order to destroy what they can of the host culture – what else could one expect? They will either passively destroy it, like the Gook, by insisting that race is unimportant; or actively like Ms Olufemi.

4. As soon as foreign peoples enter and settle, they initiate a death spiral for the host population: they will tend to regard any patriotism, let alone nationalism or ethnic/cultural pride, as the vilest evil imaginable, and will relentlessly push their own agenda. Before i stopped using Facebook i noted that Shrekh, my miserable self-pitying ex-Muslim militant atheist schoolfriend, and his gormless Pakistani sisters would post attacks on UKIP as Nazis, racists, etc, poor old Nigel Farage as the next Adolf Hitler. As with the American Left’s curious picture of Donald Trump as the next Adolf Hitler, it’s hard to know where to begin.

Displaced persons such as the Gook and Shrekh and Olufemi will naturally tend to attack the native population’s right to preserve itself. They don’t even have to be bad people: because genetically they don’t belong in the host land they react to the host’s antibodies with virulent opposition. And as with a fever, the culture’s antibodies become the stronger & actually harder for the host, the worse the infection. If they think patriotism and soft civic nationalist movements like UKIP are intolerable, i’d be curious to see how they respond to Führer Elberry.

Displaced persons can either do the honorable thing & top themselves, or at least become (as is, amusingly, the case with myself, the Gook, and Shrekh) so offputting to women that we won’t pass on our foreign genetic strain. But in a sense i can’t exactly blame the Gook – what should the poor chap do, look in the mirror and say, “I shouldn’t have been born”? And poor miserable wretches like Shrekh, who hates the heat and hates Muslims, wouldn’t do well if deported back to Pakistan, not that he’s exactly doing well in England (hasn’t worked in a decade, is chronically sick and strikes me as kind of schizophrenic).

Anyway, here’s a jolly video for you to watch (i can’t seem to embed it). Merry Christmas in advance.

1. My first real office job was in a theatre company, a few months after i graduated. i had to call schools to persuade them to book a performance about post-GCSE career options, paid for by the Government but of course the school would have to organise hundreds of students into a hall at the same time. One teacher told me she wasn’t sure it was a good idea, as the theatre had done a show there the year before and the pupils apparently thought the actors were actually their characters, and had difficulty understanding it was a fiction. “They aren’t, uh, special students,” she said, “but they couldn’t see it was just a play.”

i wondered later if the pupils were having her on, but perhaps not: although everyone now watches TV few people have seen a play, and theatre is a very different experience.

2. There is an imaginative but real dimension to existence, intersecting strangely with the material. i guess even the most primitive reductionist would accept that ideas & emotions affect the physical reality, e.g. the abomination of modern architecture arises i would say from the machine-mind, and so the physical world now looks hideous. However, i think it’s more complex still: every thought, emotion, perception, enters a vast ocean of imaginative force, which in turn bears an enormous influence on our minds & hence our makings & our bodies.

In a sense, fictions are real; or rather, they have their own reality, and affect & even determine ours. The influence is typically indirect, i think because of our own perceptual limitations; when the influence is stronger, we tend to notice something odd, e.g. that the World War 1 armistice came into effect at 1100 on 11 November, or the unexpected rise of the God Emperor in defiance of corporate interference & the cackling of the Cloud People. The stronger the influence from the spirit world to ours, the more uncanny & clearly occult/supernatural the manifestation. It amuses me tremendously to imagine the “angelic orders” choosing Donald Trump of all people to hold the line against the demonic tide. But then, i suppose for gnostic reasons it would need to be an unspiritual man, not a visionary or saint but an ordinary Mensch, a bit blockheaded & crass, and yet a man untainted by the corruption (typically child abuse & sexual assault & drugs) common to the media/political elites, a man who if offered a 9-year-old girl would say, No thanks, I’m going to bang a 21-year-old supermodel and eat steak with ketchup, then two scoops of ice cream. If you want proof that God has a sense of humour, there it is.

3. Quite suddenly, a belief comes to seem questionable, then ludicrous – because the imaginative substrate is collapsing. The West is at an interesting point, with (as i see it) three main imaginative forces colliding:

i) Western civilisation & culture, which is basically this:

and this

and this (ignore Kate Bush’s support of the globalist “Tory” government, the song is truer than the singer):

ii) The panoply of nihilistic elements now predominant in the universities, media, the public sector, and the governments of Western Europe & Canada, ranging from the foot soldiers of idiocy:

to the higher functionaries:

iii) Islam.

The nihilists ally with the Muslims, on an enemy-of-my-enemy basis but when the latter are sufficiently numerous the frappuccino-sipping Marxists and tolerant “But I love a good balti!” Southrons will find themselves in a pickle, or to be more accurate gangraped to death.

The West has deep roots but through mass immigration & cultural persecution the nihilists have managed to blast all leaves & fruit & blossom, and to all appearances it seems Denethor is correct: “the West has failed” and we will soon have cities of rubble with the last shrieking feminists being chased down & butchered by a mob of men called Mohammed.

So it’s not all bad then.

4. When i grew up there were many TV shows with a dumb, blundering father, e.g. Inspector Gadget who is some kind of Terminator but mildly retarded and so his clever niece & her dog solve all the crimes behind his back. i wouldn’t see it as anti-male propaganda; the audience, rather, knew that in reality a small girl is unlikely to be smarter than even a stupid adult and so it was not so much pandering to children as creating an evident fantasy, which by its evident unreality was charged with that quality Lewis Carroll called fun.

i look at films today and when i see e.g. Scarlett Johansson throwing three hundred pound men around, even bearing in mind the Avengers films also feature a man in a flying robot suit, a giant green monster, the god Thor, i think, Well that just isn’t very realistic; in her case, the character (Black Widow) is basically just a bio-enhanced human being with training, and while i could imagine such a person being able to beat up street thugs, she routinely and without difficulty dispatches huge, trained fighters.

i feel that whereas e.g. Inspector Gadget was childlike fun & fiction, today’s kickass heroines are taken as in some way real: (stupid) people watch these films and think Scarlett Johansson really could beat up Mike Tyson. Wonder Woman (i tried to watch it but the CGI and smirking women put me off after 10 minutes) and the newish Ghostbusters film were advertised as a great blow struck against Hitler; that is, they are more or less openly advertised to be propaganda, as if showing a woman beating men up means women are now physically stronger than men:

5. Across our culture, the relation between representation and physical reality has become awkward. i gave up arguing with my American colleagues (all Bernie Bro globalists) when they say Trump is a racist or a rapist, because they get their “news” entirely from corporate media and they are firstly too stupid to notice the frequent contradictions and the disparity between e.g. CNN’s confident polling 13 months ago and the Glorious Reality, and to even begin questioning their lifelong narrative would be to question their status as morally superior, wise beings on a par with Justin Trudeau and Kevin Spacey.

Over the last year or so i’ve felt the reigning narrative (globalist, anti-Western culture) begin to come apart. The bewilderment of those whose financial and emotional well-being depend on the now dying, demonic illusion, attests to the real shift at work.

It is not a minor alteration. At present the powers are trying to deny it, by e.g. blocking Trump at every turn, humming & hawing about Brexit, and perhaps they would triumph, were this not a culmination of decades, with the force of a good millennium or so behind it.

The whole Hollywood sex scandal, where curiously most of Trump’s most prominent & vehement detractors have turned out to be rapists, perverts, and weirdos, is part of this glorious destruction, as an almost wholly false world-picture breaks apart. There is a limit to how long falsity can be maintained, before the truth comes out; and my occult sense is that many hidden things will come to light in the next few years, and the false mirror will be broken (perhaps even, the truth about the Clintons).

6. For about the last generation, those in the West have squatted in Plato’s cave to regard the flickering shadows and eschew reality as a fascist lie spun by Elberry out of spite & runic tweed. One could see the last few decades of fashionable nonsense as testament to the human imagination, like children believing in Father Christmas. Thus i had one student (from Cologne) claim that thousands of women are raped in Cologne every New Year’s Eve and Germans only made a big stink in 2015 because the attackers weren’t white. And this was by no means a moron (she was in fact a lawyer for a large company) – just someone whose imagination is focussed entirely on maintaining a narrative of bad white man vs exotic wonderful Muslim. As i said to the stupid bitch at the time, – Yes most people won’t be affected by the migrants. If you live in a good area and don’t take public transport i doubt you have much to fear.

Luckily the next financial crash (my occult feeling is, before the next European election cycle) will force many out of the cave, into the wilderness of reality, where they will be immediately eaten by a bear.

1. i was reading a /pol post about decades, everyone agreed that the last decent one was the 90s (though i would say the 80s), and one poster said 9/11 fucked the entire world up for good. As it happens, i was the same age in 2001 and 1914 in this and my last lives respectively, and now feel there are certain analogies between the two dates; to some degree, 2001 is our 1914.

2. i’ve given up trying to predict events in this life from my last; curiously, it worked quite well in retrospect, so similar things happened to me when i was 14/15 and 21/2 in both lives, and i spent the same time temping as in the First World War. However, when i started applying it to my present & future, the two lives diverged so i just accept things now and don’t keep looking at the calendar and making ill-founded predictions which inevitably fail, leaving me unshaven and obese and old, reading Julius Evola on my half-collapsed sofa bed and muttering to myself about sand peoples and Leftists and degeneracy.

3. i note in my own life certain periods of intense emotional/intellectual activity, for example the three years of my undergraduate degree (97-2000), my year in Kassel (2010), and 2015 to the present. It sounds a bit depressing but the rest of my life has been like sleepwalking without much sensation or thought, and no sense of purpose or value. As soon as Merkel decided to end the white race in Europe, i felt a quickening of purpose, a tautening of the history within which i live; it was as if a meandering, tedious film (e.g. The Phantom Menace) suddenly took on the tight narrative & technical mastery of The Empire Strikes Back 

or Weekend at Bernie’s The Godfather. The next 12 or so months were truly strange, as David Bowie, Prince, George Michael, Leonard Cohen, Muhammad Ali, Alan Rickman, Gene Wilder, Castro, and Carrie Fisher all died, the uncucked British voted for Brexit, and the God Emperor ascended the Iron Throne despite the entire corporate media lambasting him as literally Hitler.

In terms of my 1914/2001 analogy, 2016 would have been 1929. i hesitate to think too much about such things, as i don’t believe you can read off dates and predict the future, but perhaps Europe will experience a change in the right direction in the 2021-2 election cycle, or perhaps politics & democracy will collapse entirely and we will have instead the Race War on our doorstep, gloriously coinciding with economic catastrophe, plague, and meteor strikes and rampaging dinosaurs and an entire SS Army Group will emerge from the secret Nazi base in the Arctic with orders to purify the land and reward Elberry with vintage waistcoats and Nazi whisky and blonde MILF.

4. In 2016 i cut back on the booze after damaging my gut, lost about 7 kilos, and started wearing a wristwatch, so a momentous year. At the moment i’m working on self-publishing Vocations, my volume of short stories, racist remarks, a play, and my temp memoir, really just waiting for the Viking to supply a drawing as illustration and then i can hopefully cast it into the world of eager readers, millions of scantily-clad buxom young women & blonde MILF, all hungering for pointless short stories, racist hyperbole, and self-pitying office anecdotes. Many of these gorillions of lady readers will look like this:

5. i also feel i have inadvertently but perhaps usefully created a distance about myself, as in the last 6 months i’ve lost contact with half a dozen people who were, in one way or another, draining my energy and leaving me irritated or depressed. Half of them i lost at once, by deleting my Facebook accounts, the others are all individual cases where i just found myself unable to write to them, and then unable to even read their words.

i only noticed the pattern a few weeks ago when i got a more than usually sneering letter from a (baby boomer prog) ex-professor i know from Durham, and after a day or two of wrath and Bane-like utterances to myself, i decided to reply with a bland, civil letter and then have no contact with him again. He was always given to passing ex cathedra judgements on my apparently rather terrible character, in of course a passive aggressive have you stopped beating your wife yet manner, but he seems to have become worse in the last few years; at the same time i’m becoming increasingly aggressive and terrifyingly violent, and also unwilling to shrug off ad hominem rebukes & denigration for the sake of being nice & staying in touch with someone who is, in many ways, interesting and not at all a bad person (just a hectoring self-righteous prog).

6. i feel my own character change is mysterious and complex. On the one hand i can see that i am becoming a grotesque supervillain living in a cavern of some kind, drinking gin and watching Varg Vikernes videos and then dreaming dark dreams of violent retribution on my decrepit sofa bed; on the other hand i think a new kind of energy is emerging alongside or in apparent contradistinction to my superb fascism & malice.

As an example of my fascistic propensities, i was teaching a new JobCentre class of unemployed Germands, one of the most low-energy groups i’ve ever had, they just sit there staring down at the table and avoid eye contact and don’t even talk to each other in the break, i thought maybe they disliked me but they were apparently even worse with California Jesus who is usually a favourite. It’s especially odd as these are not dummkopfters; their professions: HR lawyer, designer, pharma product manager, biochemist, legal secretary. This occurred on Monday:

me: Okay, we’ve finished the book. What should we do now? We can do some grammar, or a vocab game, or talk about Schnitzel, or just sit here in total silence. What would you like to do?

Total silence. Each student is staring down at the desk before him/her.

me: Grammar? Anyone want to do grammar? We could do comparatives, that’s good grammar hammer time, what do you say? Grammar? Grammar anyone? Anyone?

Total silence.

me: Or a vocab game? That’s fun! Who wants to do a game?

Total silence.

me: Or how about total silence? We can just sit here and pretend we don’t exist? That’s good too.

Total silence.

me: Okay. i’m going to take your total silence to mean you don’t want to be here, and you don’t want me to be here either and you don’t want to do anything at all and you wish you were dead. How about that? Is that accurate? Is that how i should interpret your absolute refusal to answer a simple question? You want to die? Am i right? Death? Death?

Total silence and still each student is looking down and avoiding eye contact or movement. i felt, later, a bit surprised that i’d been so confrontational about it, since i would normally just pretend not to notice their lack of motivation and would generally try to avoid talking about murder, death, and rape since the last time i got in trouble with McLingua for referring to the Battle of Stalingrad and Manstein’s attempted Unternehmen Wintergewitter in every grammar example. i’ve likewise been rather nasty with some of my colleagues, e.g. i was stuck in the McLingua teacher room with The Gook, a highly annoying young American colleague (a giant fat rich Nork who claims he’s Bavarian because he grew up here and speaks fluent hillbilly Bavarian & wears Lederhosen at every opportunity) and the Holy Spirit moved me to inform him that he was grotesque and a beast and a filthy degenerate, and when he started rambling about how you’re Bavarian if you can speak Bavarian i told him, – Only race matters. Racially, you and i are freaks who should not exist. You can only be European if you are white and have European culture. The rest is LARPing.

7. On the other hand Burroughs, a now early-70s teacher who was in Nam in an interestingly vague capacity, a homosexual and deviant of amusing proportions, said we should stay in touch when i told him i’d applied for a job in the Allgäu (i was rejected), in case i leave suddenly like many teachers. i like him enormously, though because he tends to shuffle about like a zombie and mutter “fuck the world” every few minutes. He’s one of the few long-time teachers who is still motivated and has consistently excellent feedback, and so i respect him as a colleague as well as enjoying his diatribes against humanity. i gave him my email address and he wrote to me yesterday:

Greetings on 9 November. I can remember this day in 1989 very clearly. My dementia hasn’t faded the image. However, my dementia prohibits me from doing housework. 

He openly told me he’s attracted to me – in the McLingua teacher room with various other teachers in attendance – which made me laugh hugely, and i said, – You are aware i’m only interested in blonde MILF? and he, – Oh that doesn’t matter.

i told him he’s just attracted to Asians, at least not enormous fat loud ones like The Gook, and he said, – No no, when I saw you I felt we were on the same wavelength, and well, look, you just light up the room when you come in.

Oddly, i’ve heard similar things recently-ish from female colleagues and even students, and on the train home, sitting opposite a Merkel Negro (who was dressed like a gangsta and kept muttering to himself in Negro, and was spooking the Germans with his aura of craziness & violence) i found myself distracted from my reading matter (Rupert Sheldrake’s The Science Delusion, after this video of Varg’s) by the Merkel’s twitching and mumbling and highly aggressive vibes and then felt the usual total relaxation, my prelude to violence, and until i alighted i was both smiling in anticipation of violence, and thinking that while i am becoming increasingly hostile to both the enemies of Europe and those who would impose upon me with their stupidity, hectoring & insanity, i at least maintain my old friendships (The Viking, Juniper, The Man in Black), and am apparently radiating some kind of benign energy for those with eyes to see – even though they are people as diverse as Burroughs and my variously fantastifascistical readers, and of course all those gorillions of blonde MILF & honeys hungering for Vocations and The Better Maker.

1. People tend to be surprised at my bohemian/fascistic political views. i sometimes tell normies i’m a centrist, by 1950s standards, but actually since democracy & liberal capitalism have led us to our current predicament even this is deceptive.

Most of my students have no real problem with controlled immigration but are becoming more & more opposed to Islam and so would count as moderate civic nationalists.

My colleagues are largely default open borders lefties who get their news from Facebook quotes (Toddball) or CNN and the New York Times (the more intellectual ones). i’ve met only one who seems on the Right, on the Alt-Lite i guess, a German teacher about my age who looks like a sour elf. i vaguely knew her from the staff room but only talked to her when she was discussing academia with an English teacher who wanted to do a PhD in Philosophy, i naturally told them how academia today is ridden & cursed with Marxism and post-modern bullshit, and the Sour Elf said to me, – I don’t know if you have heard of him, but there is a Canadian professor –

– Jordan Peterson? i asked, and she looked a little startled and asked how i had heard of him. i said i’d first come across him on the Computing Forever channel, then heard him mentioned by other Youtubers. i was also surprised that she knew these Youtubers (Sargon, Molyneux etc.) as i haven’t met a single person in Germany who uses Youtube for anything except cat videos.

2. We had lunch and have since become co-conspirators or rather co-moaners; she wanted me to infiltrate an Antifa meeting but i told her i lack interest in mere political actions and besides i would probably start saying things like, – Say what you like about Hitler, he was nice to dogs and he conquered France in six weeks.

She is very much a civic nationalist and so looked a bit disapproving when i uttered some of my ethnic tribalism sentiments, also she is like most Germans very focused on the material plane & political action, so she has left artefacts like this lying about McLingua:


– whereas i prefer to write here for my tiny audience (it seems to have held steady at about 20 for the last decade) or to e.g. perform runic ceremonies in the woods.

Like most of the civic nationalists/paleo-cons, she does not go far enough. To use the much-beloved Titanic image, she is trying to stuff the hole in the hull with tampons and i am on the bridge, gazing into the oncoming sea and adjusting my facemask for underwater existence, she dashes up, sodden and trembling and looking more than usually sour expostulates, – Elberry, what are you doing?

me: Crashing this plane – with no survivors.

Sour Elf: Elberry, we aren’t on a plane! We’re on a sinking ship! We must put our heads together and come up with a really clever solution! This is a really really seriously bad situation!

me: For you.

3. While over the last two years my fascism has naturally intensified, i think my first inoculation against modernity was 20 years ago at university, when i encountered Literary Theory. As i recall i was reading an essay on Lit Theory by Frank Kermode – i assumed it was a joke of some sort, then asked my first year tutor who confirmed that there is indeed a fashion known as Theory, which runs thus: instead of reading a book and analysing the language and thought, with perhaps some reference to what we know of the author & his time, we should seize the opportunity to talk about the oppression of “minorities”, at length, in almost incomprehensible prose. An example, from Homi Bhabha:

If, for a while, the ruse of desire is calculable for the uses of discipline soon the repetition of guilt, justification, pseudo-scientific theories, superstition, spurious authorities, and classifications can be seen as the desperate effort to “normalize” formally the disturbance of a discourse of splitting that violates the rational, enlightened claims of its enunciatory modality.

i forced myself to read a great deal of Lit Theory and found it intellectually vacuous; my first impression was one of blatant mendacity but i thought, Well if this is the bees knees today i should at least try to understand it; so i read and deciphered the almost incomprehensible prose, and found you could rephrase it all as either a flat uninteresting truism (e.g. women did not have the same experience as men in Shakespeare’s London) or as a tendentious assertion (all men are rapists even if they never rape or try to rape anyone).

i didn’t meet a single student who took it seriously, and luckily Durham at that time was highly conservative so there were few Theorists, and from what i could gather the foremost of these didn’t take it seriously either, she merely found it an easy career platform. Later i went out drinking with some of my tutors and remarked to one, a repugnant young cunt who had written a book about transqueering spaces, that i couldn’t stomach Theory; she looked sly, like a pervert alluding to some unspeakable practice, and then said, – You’ve just got to play the game, you have to learn to write like that, to use certain words.

i was struck by the contrast between these careerists with their transodomitical spaces drivel, and the experience of discussing Milton with an intelligent non-careerist like my first-year tutor. There was no intellectual argument which could have persuaded me that the latter was somehow old hat & inauthentic, or that Theory was daring & significant & honest. By reading Milton & TS Eliot i made my adult self, i came to understand something of my world & those i met; by Theory i was immediately and consistently disgusted, and all those i have met who fell for Foucault and his kind have turned out to be brittle neurotics who are slightly smarter than average and believe themselves to be genius-level savants (there seems a zone of above-average intelligence where the individual realises she is smarter than most people; however she isn’t smart enough to realise she’s not much above the median; above this zone people tend to realise how little they know, how limited their intellectual means relative to the questions they face).

4. Lit Theory was my first concentrated dose of modernity, damned though i have been to live in modern times. At first i thought it merely an academic perversion, but in time i’ve come to see it as one symptom of the machine age which exalts the monstrous in Man. Today i read Theodore Dalrymple on Le Corbusier (Charles-Édouard Jeanneret):

Jeanneret’s writing is exhortatory and often ungrammatical, and is full of non sequiturs and dubious assertions without foundation. He raves rather than argues; everything is written in an imperious take-it-or-leave-it mode, interspersed with scribbled sketches or photographs of little relevance, and if you choose to leave it rather than take it, he soon insults you by claiming that you cannot see, do not understand, are incapable of real thought, etc. To read Jeanneret is to be cornered by a religious fanatic threatening you with eternal hellfire unless you accept his doctrine in full. It is a very unpleasant experience.

That is more or less the experience of reading Literary Theory, or talking to those who take it seriously. It is not an isolated academic mania, it is part of modernity and in a sense i am grateful – that i cannot write let alone think in this “style”, and so could not have made a career in the modern university; and i realised that the “spirit” which produced Theory has also produced architecture like this

and turned the larger cities and towns of Western Europe into multicultural hellholes. People like the Sour Elf are on the right path but my opposition is not merely to millions of sand peoples swarming into Europe; it is to the entire modern world, and it is not in my nature to placate or appease.


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