This comment of mine in another thread—:
When I said above that men were pro-natalism I had in mind that we think with our cock: we’re hard-wired to fuck Little Red Riding Hoods. Regarding women’s anti-natalism, I had in mind the millions of spoiled brats who have aborted white babies or who use contraception pills.
Contraception must be forbidden in an ethno-state, as the ultimate goal would be to conquer the whole world for the Aryans (10 babies per white family will be the norm).
—reminded me one of my favourite paintings in Carl Jung’s Man and His Symbols, painted by a patient under analysis. Note how the blond gal makes a signal with her hand begging wolfie to stop! Red symbolizes our lust and the purity of the blue means that women are hard-wired with ten percent of our sexual drive, or even less.
According to the author of that chapter in Jung’s compilation, a woman, ‘the green, mandala-like flower acts as a link between the opposing sides’ (Man and His Symbols, Anchor Press, 1988, page 294).
27 replies on “Wolfie & Gal”
Obviously, anyone is traumatized by a beating; that is the idea behind torture. For the normal individual, viewing a beating is almost as bad as being on the receiving end. However, beatings worked marvels for the Marines. It’s amazing what one can remember and accomplish when the fear of a beating is constantly in the background, like their serial number and general orders.
When I first encountered the twenty-foot rope climb, I could only make it about three feet up the rope. With the assistance of a D.I.s boot kicking my ass, I soon made it over the top and down the other side, something I had previously thought impossible.
I was a real “fuck up.” Once, I was called in for “correction” and was beaten so badly the “House Mouse” was ready to call sickbay for an ambulance; there was blood everywhere. It was a simulacrum of the torture one might encounter when captured by an enemy, with much the same result – submission, obedience and conformity.
When I went in the Corps I could not run fifty feet. After boot camp, I could run three miles, literally no sweat. (Providing it wasn’t one of those blistering hot SoCal days.) I resisted the PFT for my entire enlistment. I even lost a couple of stripes for a gag I pulled during a PFT run in Cuba. While attached to a Force Recon group, I had to run eight miles every morning before breakfast. God, how I dreaded those “zero-dark-thirty” morning runs, but I ran anyway.
I hated the Corps, I never met a boot that didn’t. The D.I.s would say, “someday you’ll thank us for this.” I would think like fucking hell you bastard! Forty five years plus, I realize the Marines and their beatings were the best thing that ever happened to me, forcing me to grow up to face life’s hard realities in short order.
Birth begins a debilitating process where one believes they are the center of the universe, a condition that, absent countering influence, invariably continues into adulthood. The Marines made the true condition of life crystal-clear – “Sir! The private is a maggot! The private is lower than whale shit – Sir!” We used to have a saying, “They’re boot to life,” meaning one hasn’t grown up to face life’s realities.
I swore I would never run again after I got out. Yet about six months after mustering out of the Corps, I felt an unexpected urge to start running again and soon became a dedicated distance runner then I began cross training by body building at the gym. It sure helped when I went for my flight physicals, not to mention my endurance during those grueling, sixteen hour days in the cockpit.
After a time, I developed fluid on both knees. It was a debilitating development, sufficiently painful to stop my daily run. After a few days, I hobbled out to the sidewalk and dropped to my knees. The fluid sacks broke, and aside from a few episodes with shin splints, I never had another problem running. I have grown old and fat. Running would no doubt present an issue with my joints, but I still walk an hour every day.
Those beatings instilled discipline in my fundamentally, dissolute, human nature. Beatings can shape a resolute character, unafraid of facing the worst possible scenarios. The Marines hardened my resolve by proving to me that I could accomplish what I once thought impossible.
For me beatings, even those with a positive purpose, are a conundrum, as I would never beat anyone, especially women and children. Yet, I see the positive effect beatings can have in shaping outstanding character traits.
Oddly, nothing else seems to work with anything close to the efficiency of a beating. Maybe that’s why Jews have outlawed corporal punishment, replacing it with smarmy, feel good concepts like the idiotic “time out,” a concept now practiced by the Marines.
There are song and lyrics from that period of my life that have remained with me. One of the most memorable lines is this one:
I would be remiss if I did not mention the Jews (again) in a comment, so I will add that, evidence alludes to the fact that Obama’s mother “Sidney” was a Jewess. Surprise!
Oh, are we continuing our discussion on here now?
Yeap.
I’m still unclear as to what constitutes an Aryan, and as I said before, if you simply mean whites, just say so. I regard Aryans as a mythical folk race at this point. Furthermore, it is unlikely to ever become more than an esoteric ideology. I also think your statement belies a yearning for power and domination that has little to do with preservationism, and certainly nothing to do with compassion for the Aryan race you claim to cherish so dearly. How is it in the white baby’s interest to come into a world where it could potentially be hellstormed? I get the impression that you view them, simultaneously, as both sacred and expendable. As such, the victims of the Hellstorm must surely hold dual status for you. On the one hand they are victims of the most inhuman suffering imaginable and martyrs in the struggle against Jewry, while on the other hand they are inevitable sacrifices in the struggle to secure a future for white children. Well the path to glory is paved with their gravestones, Cesar. Look how many of those white children suffered indescribably because they were brought into this world, where innumerable perils may befall them and where they will die, and all to secure what? Perpetuation for the sake of perpetuation, with the innately evil nature of the world they were being born into not given any consideration whatsoever. I’m sorry but I see no honour in that.
“Suicide is a sin against the holy ghost. If you want to die, do it heroically (you know what I’m talking about).”
Holy Ghost? It was my understanding that you were vehemently anti-Christian. Unless of course that is your own idiosyncratic term for the many generations that have come before us, slaved and toiled in the fields and factories, etc.
Anti-natalism is the by-product of a degenerate race that has lost faith in itself. Only Jews and white traitors promote it. Since you lack a male model and only have your good mother as model, I doubt you’ll grasp what in this site we call ‘real men’ (there’s a whole category on this concept on the sidebar).
Also, you are not familiar with the main articles of this site. The expression ‘Sin against the Holy Ghost’ is common here.
P.S. Your psyche is clearly on the blue side of the above painting.
Well that’s not really an answer to anything I’ve said, it’s just a blanket dismissal, a refusal to even entertain a dialogue on the matter. Abortion is baby-murdering but babies who died in the “great struggle” is something you accept with a shrug as inevitable? I find that astonishing.
Unlike communism, there is no one race or culture that has a monopoly on anti-natalism as a philosophy. Many people from different walks of life have come to find themselves reaching such conclusions, such as Arthur Schopenhauer in the 19th century, Peter Wessel Zapffe in the 20th century, and the 10th century Arabic philosopher Al-Maʿarri. The only constant seems to be a rejection of religion and the embrace of rationalism and moral realism.
This is a forum for would-be soldiers that are in the process of transvaluing their values. You’re commenting in the wrong forum and I don’t answer what you say simply because the POV of this site is not for people like you, but for those who spiritually are like Turner, the character in Pierce’s novel.
I think this life was due to a wrong turn somewhere around the Pleiadian star system. But not to worry, next time I’ll have a map.
The problem I hear here is fear. It helps to know what this life is all about. Life is a continuing process. It does not end with death any more than death ends with life, these processes are simply one form transmuting into another.
Face it, we’re all going to die. Ask yourself, at that moment, what will be important? Are any of these subjects important at the moment of death? Anyone having felt death’s kiss knows that the material world is meaningless the moment death takes your breath away.
Nothing matters any longer but where you are going from that point – and it won’t be back to the breakfast table. Get comfortable with death, spend some time with your mortality, because you’re heading that way on an express train to midnight.
There is no problem doing what you can to help others, but don’t do it at the expense of your “soul.” Christians got one thing right when they laid out the seven deadly sins. Murder, hate, envy, greed, all the base elements of man’s nature are what you have come here to resolve.
What is the meaning of life? Life is a school. When one indulges their base natures, they fail the grade. Like any school of worth, failing the grade means one must repeat the grade. The purpose of life is to polish the soul to perfection as achieving perfection rings the last bell, school is finally out. The “soul” has graduated.
Everything you do in this life – Everything – will pass away; some things sooner than others, but all will pass away. All man’s achievements, from the greatest to the smallest, will in time crumble to dust to be forgotten.
The body dies and it’s achievements die with it, but the soul lives on. One can visit the Sphinx, but it will never tell who built it or why. What then is your brief existence viewed from this perspective?
There is a perfect cinematic metaphor for the meaning of life found in the movie Groundhog Day.
In that film, the protagonist, played by Bill Murray, finds himself repeating the same day over, over and over again. Everyday he has to start anew in the same place from the same beginning. Bill’s character is haughty, selfish, arrogant, cynical and just plain mean spirited, a personality he covers well with clever, cutting humor.
Initially he is chagrined, but somewhat amused, to find himself waking to the same day every day at exactly six am, (a metaphor for birth) but it changes nothing in his character. After a time he becomes alarmed in the fact that he cannot escape the same day being played out repeatedly.
Out of desperation, he decides the only solution is to commit suicide. So he does, only to find the next day suicide hasn’t changed anything. So he tries again – and again – and again, but every day he wakes up to the six am alarm. Finally, he decides there is no way out, and faces the fact he will have to repeat the same day endlessly.
Accepting this fact, he begins experimenting with different approaches. Slowly he finds his old selfish, arrogant tiresome, so he begins trying politeness and kindness. The more he does, the happier he becomes.
Eventually he finds himself committing fully to helping others. There is a memorable line where he exclaims, “I’m a god! Not The God, but a god.” In the end, he finds real compassion for others and what love is truly about as opposed to his former lust. Upon reaching this pinnacle, he awakens at six AM to find a new and different day. He has finally moved on.
The movie compresses the life/death cycle into one day. On a cosmic scale, that’s far more time then you have. Compared to earth’s time frame, life is naught more than a mayfly’s day.
In one ongoing subplot, he begins taking piano lessons until he becomes an accomplished pianist. This is why people have “natural talents,” they have been practicing all the days of their lives. This explains the phenomenon of “gifted children,” those exhibiting talents far beyond their years. Such children are not “gifted” they are real world versions of Bill’s character, “old souls” that have been around the cosmic block until becoming highly proficient at certain skills.
What you do today will affect your eternity. If one does not progress, they will be forever stuck in this life of misery and suffering. It will remain that way until one learns to quit repeating the processes that result in misery and suffering. Try murdering someone using love and compassion, see how far you get. As Buddha said, “all life is suffering and all suffering comes from ignorant desire.”His reported last words are perhaps more significant – “Never again will I have to enter a womb!”
When I look at this hell called earth, I am most grateful for one thing, I never brought anyone into this world to suffer. That would weigh far more heavily on my conscience than anything else I have ever done.
I am to the point I think this world belongs to the stupid, the ignorant, the Jews and the mud people; this life is their kind of hell, not mine. I certainly don’t want anyone to come here, especially those I love. The very worst curse I can think of is “May you live forever!” No doubt most of them will.
With all due respect, Stanton, but you sound terribly black-pilled.
I also understand somewhat what you’re talking about, having been in the military. But not doing such a hard service.
So the future of the world should belong to the Jews and the mud people? Maybe.
In your struggle for life and understanding, you have come a long way, if I may say so. But your lines could not have been written by anybody but a white man.
So in spite of all this sh*t. Have you ever looked upon a glorious morning, or a beautiful sunset, and wondered how to make the rest of the world align to such beauty?
And should not this beauty require us to go a couple of more times through a womb, just to get the right people to take over?
But man does the thought of trying yet again make me fed up at times….
I’ve had my moments, but they do not outweigh the present.
I took my ag flight training in Merigold Mississippi. It was my moment to return to what brought me back to this present life. Flying over the Mississippi countryside in a WWII Stearman, painted in the blue and yellow scheme of the pre-way Army Air Corps, I could no longer tell it was 1980.
I was projected back to the late 1930s, just before I spun in to my death. Back then, the world was my oyster. For those moments, I was fulfilling my driving ambition of the last life to become a fighter pilot. Now I was completing the cycle by becoming an ag-pilot. I felt happier then than at any other time in this life.
Then there was that late afternoon moment, climbing out from St. Thomas in a twin Beech while listening to AM radio on the ADF. A woman tuned in, singing her beautiful native song in my ears, like a siren beckoning me on, as a double rainbow filled the windshield of the twin beech crossing over emerald green islands dotting a deep, turquoise blue Caribbean sea. For that moment, my heart soared in ecstasy.
Surfing the curl alone off Hull Bay. Rincon in San Juan. Wreck diving off Salt Island in crystal-clear waters with ninety foot visibility.
Breathtaking mornings hiking Alaska’s Hatcher Pass, a place so beautiful it challenged the mind’s belief of reality. The view above Crow Creek pass looking like a scene from the movie Shangri La. Cross-country skiing outside of Wasilla at twenty below on a crisp, really crisp, sunny winter morning.
Riding a Norton 850 Commando down the mountain from Big Bear where I had been skiing the day before. Later that day I would be surfing off Oceanside. Walking down the beach at Carlsbad, just looking at the girls – my oh my! Idyllwild,
Partying with the Hell’s angels who picked me up from the roadside because of my square jaw and Marine Corps haircut, back in the days when Marines were spit on.
Hemet. Picked up by five beautiful blonds driving a covered wagon because they took pity on an wandering, roadside, wayfarer! In those days, my heavenly excitement was found in Southern California, but look at it today.
Touring the Blue Ridge parkway, drinking in autumn colors with the pleasant, low rumble of the Harley’s exhaust burbling softly in my ears.
Rafting down Santa Elena canyon in Big Bend with intense heat muffling all sound. Tripping on Peyote, drinking tequila, talking to the coyotes and rattlesnakes answering questions about life.
Motoring slowly though Sherwood Forrest at late evening in the cockpit of a British canal barge.
My first flight in the Dassault Falcon 10. Rocketing into the atmosphere pressed into the seat by an accelerating climb angle with the altimeter winding out at an unbelievable rate. After that, it was routine. Jet aircraft are all procedure, they have no soul.
Thermaling a Lark at 3500 feet AGL on a hot summer day, with a vulture sidling up beside the canopy to fly close formation as Tomita played Clare de Lune on the Walkman.
Lifting the heavily loaded Grumman Ag-cat off the runway at the crack of dawn and jigging under high tension wires at the end of the runway as I headed out for the first job of the day.
A quiet moment on deck in Desolation sound with a hot cup of coffee. Anchored in Princess Louisa Inlet on my 37 foot steel Roberts, a stormy night in snug harbor.
That infatuating moment of finding myself deeply in love, feelings that have not dissipated with time. That first passionate kiss I’ll never forget.
Sailing a fifty foot Beneteau under full moon out of Road Town on the way to the Virgin Gorda.
Riding out my first sky dive under full canopy. Awesome dead silence sharply contrasting the cacophony of the aircraft cockpit just seconds before. After that, it was just practice. T
The memories of a man in old age are the deeds of a man in his prime . . . Oh I’ve had those moments all right.
I have lived more than one of life’s adventures, but I was much younger then and far more ignorant of the realities driving this world. I’ve had my fling with life. I’ve kissed the girls that did not cry. I’ve forgiven those in my past as well as myself for all the wrongs. I’ve made my peace with this world, at least from a personal perspective. Now I’m ready to move on. Today this world – tomorrow the universe.
Did I forget the Jews? Well, never mind.
Thanks Stanton, and sorry for my first sloppy reply. The typos got the better of me.
You have obviously had your moments, and alle the best on your travel wherever it brings you.
As for the Jews, well, f*ck them.
I’ll give them my middle finger the next time I sit and watch the midnight sun and for a moment allow myself to believe it won’t go down.
I have come to consider suicide the one & only TRUE spiritual gesture in a world devoid of any spirit and I know I’ll do it sooner or later. I do not give a fk (especially if you are a jew, eternally oblivious to anything great – destined to doom anyway) who you are on this planet today, nobody can claim to live a meaningful life; the dishonesty of it all has reached astronomical levels. The great lesson of/in life: Clarity is always worth journeying for, regardless of triumphs or tragedies.
Though life is an extraordinary gift, it is madness to bring children in THIS world. See Bresson’s last two films.
@ Ezra: What I said to Elliot also applies to you.
Well, thanks for sharing. You’ve obviously had your moments.
I wish you a good journey.
And the, yeah, f*ck them.
suicide: the only heroic act of life, anyway one chooses to cut it. i intend to go that route. why? i and only i own my life. certainly the state does not. i, and only i as a sovereign being, make the choice when/ where to turn off life and toss the keys. having embraced sovereignty in my final several years, i find comfort in me as the sole judge of choosing when/ where i’ve had enough of this shit. and yes i feel as likely as not there will be 10x the shit in the next chapter. i take comfort that eventually i’ll be sovereign there, too. perhaps no carry-over memory, similar to my fuking experience here/ now. but i’d bet i’m “me” over there, too, so eventually i’ll end up sovereign there, too. (and c.t., you as sovereign are entitled to your thoughts/ beliefs about suicide.) just as i am mine. i hold all who have taken their own lives as heroic. i care not how messy and how many others they took out in their “selfish/ sovereign” final act.
So no soldiers of the 14 words? Taking one’s own life but not the Enemy’s??
Couple of things I’d like to know, Cesar. How do you explain “Gott Mit Uns” on the German troops belt buckles, not to mention the fact that Adolf Hitler at one point decried attacks on Christianity and claimed “our movement is Christian”? Personally I think it’s an example of him adapting his ideology (lying, in other words), depending upon the beliefs of the audience he was addressing at the time, in order not to offend them and ensure gaining their support.
My second question is, with you being Spanish, does it not bother you that the Spaniards and Italians have apparently been tainted with Arab blood over the centuries? I myself have some Spanish and Italian ancestry, not that it bothers me.
Just as Jesus had to work within the framework of the Temple’s religious system by using their own sacrificial laws against them, Hitler had to work within the religious frame work/belief system of the German people.
Imagine the reaction had these men walked into their fervently religious cultures decrying the peoples’ most cherished beliefs. How long might they have lasted had they said, “everything you know is wrong! You have been lied to and duped, but I’m going to set the record straight! I’m going to make it right by rejecting all your long held religious beliefs.
This exactly how anti-Christians and atheist have framed their message and the predictable reaction of Christians to such statements has been one of hostile rejection. My attempt is to work within the framework of Christian belief by demystifying Jesus.
The root of the Christian problem is Jesus. Saying that Jesus did not exist obviously does not work. Neither does the premise that he was an amalgamation of characters. Jesus is the Christian god. They say, “If only you knew Jesus in your heart the way I do, you would understand your mistaken beliefs.”
Well I do know Jesus and I know him a damn site better than any Christian I have met or with whom I have corresponded. Therefore I have taken a different approach with Christians by showing them Jesus’ actions were of a very different nature than is popularly thought.
1. I accept the fact that Jesus existed and even prove my case. Of course anti-Christians are like flat earthers in their attitudes towards this subject. For them, there can be no proof.
2. I have great admiration for Jesus. This always amazes Christians and non Christians alike, as I’m not a Christian, nor do I profess any religious affiliation.
3. I equate Jesus to Hitler (but do not say this to Christians) as both men undertook the same purpose and accomplished their goal, if only for a short time. The Jesus = Hitler equation baffles people far more than the idea he never existed, a point against which Christians have developed religious armor.
The historical story of Jesus versus the magical, mystical Christian story brings Jesus down to a human level, the way Jews are always trying to bring Hitler down to their debauched human level. The difference is that I do not have to lie about Jesus, nor is there any reason to lie. The facts are astounding enough in themselves.
The odd thing is how anti-Christians and atheists resist the story of Jesus-the-man more than Christians. In fact, Christians are more prone to listening to the story than atheists and anti-Christians. I have had more than one Christian return to listen to the story I tell, perhaps because they have greater interest invested in the story.
Christians know from the real world details I provide that I am on to something, because these details answer many nagging questions that have mystified them since the first time they heard the story of Jesus.
If one really wants to impact the Christian faith, then they should not deny Jesus, but instead demystify him as god. Take the son out of the trinity and what is left of Christianity but the ghost of Christmas past?
@ Simon,
Again, it’s obvious that you are a newcomer to this blog.
Your first question has been answered several times here, even paraphrasing the gospel of Mark (‘He did not say anything to them without using a parable. But when he was alone with his own disciples, he explained everything’), in the sense that the masses cannot handle the truth; only the listeners at Hitler’s table talks could.
As to your second question, many Spaniards are not whites. And I am a Nordicist (which is why Spanish nationalists hate me).
And do you consider yourself to be a not-fully-white Spaniard? And if so, does that mean you hate yourself?
I usually don’t respond to these questions except saying that I have no Jewish ancestors at all. (Those who want to know my bloodline will have to learn Spanish and read my two autobiographical books.)
I don’t see any shame in being a newcomer and asking questions. Having read through your Turd Flinging Monkey PDF again, I’m at a loss to understand what you find so enthralling and revelatory about anything he says. I can honestly confess that his (and Devlin’s) material is among the most boring I’ve ever read. It was a chore to read, as I simply don’t identify with any of the grievances they discuss.
So you endorse ethno-suicidal feminism for whites?
I don’t remember saying that. I’ve said that my position is a difficult one to be in, wherein I am sober to the JQ and the assault on the existence of the white race, and yet am simultaneously aware of the overwhelmingly negative quality of human life due to it coming to exist in a universe where it is fundamentally out of place.
I don’t identify with any of these grievances because I have never experienced them. In fact most of what Devlin describes is a society which I do not recognise and am not familiar with. I have said before that I see no qualitative difference in the reproductive strategies of either sex, both of which are selfish, dishonest and ruthless. Basically these books and videos read like a manifesto of male entitlement, no better than the entitlement exhibited by the women you complain about, none of whom I’ve ever encountered in real life.
It strikes me that none of you have considered where the threat comes from in the blacks and arabs. Is it their women who threaten us, or their hyper-masculine men? I think it is male aggression and lust for power and domination which is the problem here. If they were to have been “feminised” as you say we have, I don’t think they would be posing a threat to us today. Us being “neutered” is only a danger if our enemies are hyper-masculine in comparison. It is they who are the problem, not us.
Whether you recognize it or not you’re a feminist, which means that you should not be commenting here or at the Daily Stormer.
Why don’t you comment on Greg Johnson’s Counter-Currents instead, who’s also a sort of feminist? You use the pink color on your Twitter page and the avatar of a woman. Definitively, Counter-Currents is the right place for you (Johnson also likes pink).
I already explained why that is. I love glamour art and glamour photography. It has nothing to do with feminism. In my experience, feminists hate beauty just as much as the Abrahamic patriarchs do. I do not consciously subscribe to a matriarchal or patriarchal worldview.