web analytics
Categories
Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books)

Christianity’s criminal history, 176

– For the context of these translations click here

Louis the Pious and the death
of the king of Brittany.

Foreign policy

Louis the Pious waged war almost year after year, as befitted a Christian and believing ruler, mainly because of dynastic conflicts and internal political problems. But again and again, he also crossed the frontiers or had them crossed: as a universal ruler, he hardly ever took part in the campaigns himself but had others fight for him. This had long been the method of all rulers in the biggest massacres of the time. Pacts were scarcely of any interest any more.

In 815 a Saxon-Obotrite army attacked the Danes; but, after a series of devastations everywhere, it returned with forty hostages without having achieved anything. In 816 Louis sent his troops against the Sorbs. This time they ‘efficiently carried out’ (strenue compleverunt, Imperial Annals) the emperor’s orders and attacked them, as the sources say, ‘as swiftly as easily with the help of Christ’, and ‘with the help of God they gained the victory.’ The emperor, however, ‘gave himself up to hunting in the Vosges forest.’ At the other end of the empire, on the northern slopes of the Pyrenees, the Basques revolted and were ‘completely subdued’ (Annales regni Francorum).

Louis repeatedly waged devastating campaigns against the Breton Levantines, whose princes claimed the title of king at various times. On several occasions, he attacked the ‘mendacious, proud and rebellious people’, whom even his father hadn’t managed to subdue completely and whom the Merovingians, before Charles and Pippin, had repeatedly tried to subdue. In the summer of 818, he marched in person—almost his only military campaign as emperor—with an army of Franks, Burgundians, Alamans, Saxons and Thuringians against the ‘Breton rebels, who in their audacity dared to name one of their own, named Morman, king, refusing all obedience’ (Anonymous).

The pious sovereign, of whom his contemporary Bishop Thegan carefully exalts that ‘he progressed from day to day in sacred virtues, the enumeration of which would lead too far’, crushed the Bretons with his arrogance. He reduced to ashes all the buildings except the churches, and amid all the fires and murders he had the monasticism of the country widely reported by the Abbot of Landévennec. To kill and to pray, to pray and to kill; so everything went well and everything was permitted, at least in the war, as long as it was in favour of the ‘orthodox’ side.

A great multitude was taken prisoner, plentiful cattle were taken from them, and the Bretons submitted ‘to the conditions imposed by the emperor, whatever they were… And such hostages were selected and taken as he ordered, and the whole territory was organised at his will’, writes Astronomus.

In 819 Louis sent an army across the Elbe against the Obotrites. Their deserting prince Sclaomir (809-819) was captured and taken to Aachen, his territory occupied and he was exiled. Shortly afterwards they defeated him again, but while still in Saxony he succumbed to an illness and in the meantime received the sacrament of baptism. The Slavic people on the banks of the Elbe were still totally pagan, and the supremacy of Louis was still exposed to serious uprisings in the years 838 and 839.

On the other side of his borders, the counts of the Spanish March penetrated across the Segre ‘as far as the interior of Spain’ and ‘from there happily returned with a great booty’, having ‘ravaged and burned everything’, as Astronomus writes. The imperial analyst also notes the devastation of fields, the burning of villages and ‘no small booty’, adding: ‘In the same way, after the autumn equinox the counts of the Breton Mark raided the possessions of a rebellious Breton named Wihomarc and devastated everything with blood and fire.’

In 824 the monarch marched again with three army groups—he personally commanded one—against the Bretons and their prince Wihomarc, Morman’s successor.

In forty days, according to Frankish sources, Louis the Pious ravaged ‘the whole country with blood and fire’, ‘punished it with a great devastation’ (magna plague). He was ‘the most pious of emperors’, as the chorepiscopus Thegan praises him, ‘for even before he respected his enemies, fulfilling the word of the evangelist who says ‘Forgive and you will be forgiven.’ Louis destroyed fields and forests, annihilated a good part of the flocks, killed many Bretons, took many prisoners and returned with hostages ‘of the disloyal people.’ King Wihomarc was soon afterwards surrounded in his own house by the people of Count Lambert of Nantes, who beat him to death.

Categories
Painting

Three basic texts

Three Books, 1887 is a painting by Vincent Van Gogh

Perhaps the title of our next anthology of essays will be Neo-Christianity, which will include the recently cited Dominion.

Sexton’s review of Hellstorm together with Eduardo Velasco’s essay on Judea and Rome, both in The Fair Race and now the explanation of how the neochristian monster arose thanks to Tom Holland’s Dominion, constitute three basic texts for understanding the POV of this site.

Savitri’s book is in another category, in that it is a kind of manifesto for how we should think after the catastrophe of 1945. (As for National Socialism before 1945, after Neo-Christianity and Christianity’s Criminal History Vol II, our new translation of Uncle Adolf’s after-dinner conversations, which we have already begun, will be the next project.)

Categories
Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books)

Christianity’s criminal history, 175

– For the context of these translations click here

 

Louis the Pious had his enemies’ eyes gouged out and made a public confession of his sins

The first rebellion against Louis’ new order, which was to ensure the unity of the Empire and the Church, of the throne and the altar, came from Bernard of Italy. The only son of King Pippin, the predator of the Avars’ treasure, educated after his father’s death (810) in the monastery of Fulda, officially adopted the title of ‘king of the Longboards’ after the imperial assembly of Aachen (September 813).

When, under the Ordinatio Imperii, he had to submit to Lothair I, son of Louis, as he had previously submitted to his grandfather Charlemagne and Emperor Louis, he rebelled with numerous magnates of his kingdom. The sources are unanimous in stating that this initiative did not come from the young sovereign, who was then in his early twenties, but from his advisors.

A few months after the publication of the Ordinatio Imperii of 817, Bernard, together with ‘some wicked men’ (Annales regni Francorum)—including the court poet Bishop Theodulf of Orleans, Bishops Anselm of Milan and Wolfold of Cremona, as well as some abbots, according to an ancient source—mounted an uprising which was widespread but poorly organised. The aim was to dethrone Louis and put Bernard in his place. But everything suggests that it was not so much a question of dethroning as of ensuring the continued existence of Bernard’s small kingdom.

The emperor mobilised large contingents of troops, and demanded that the abbots and abbesses ‘do military service’ because ‘by Satan’s cunning King Bernard had prepared for sedition.’ He set off southwards at full speed and passed over the Alps into Italy. But even before the uprising had properly begun, and without even having crossed swords, Bernard appeared with his loyalists at Chalon-sur-Saône, apparently of his own free will. He laid down his arms and threw himself at the emperor’s feet. Bernard’s great ones acted similarly, who ‘as soon as the first interrogation began, they openly and motu proprio declared the whole course of the affair’.

In vain. Louis had them arrested, sent them to Aachen and there, in the spring of 818, during the imperial assembly, in a delicate manner—as the imperial analyst repeats—and only after ‘the fasting time of Lent had passed’ he had them sentenced to death, at least all those considered civilians, and then ‘pardoned’ the death penalty by the cruel punishment of plucking out their eyes. ‘They were simply deprived of their sight’ which was ‘legally irreproachable’ (Boshof).

King Bernard, whom Louis had earlier called his son, and who in turn had just fathered a child named after his grandfather Pippin, was severely punished. He died with his eye sockets emptied ‘notwithstanding the emperor’s clement manner,’ two days later, on 17 April 818. His treasurer and advisor Reginhard, as well as Reginhar, the grandson of a Thuringian rebel against Charlemagne, also defended themselves and succumbed to the terrible procedure, for ‘not having endured with sufficient patience to have their eyes gouged out’ (Anonymi vita Hludovici).

Louis penitent in Attigny

In August 822 Louis made a public confession of his faults at the imperial diet of Attigny. He regretted his crime against his young nephew Bernard, who died miserably; he regretted the hardness of his heart against his little half-brothers, on whom he imposed the clerical tonsure, and against Adalhard and Wala, his father’s cousins. This was a singular procedure in the history of the Franks, a humiliation of the emperor by the clergy, behind which were perhaps in a very special way Charlemagne’s cousins who had been deeply humiliated in the past.

Categories
Aryan beauty

Categories
Catholic religious orders Christendom Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books)

Christianity’s criminal history, 174

– For the context of these translations click here

 

The emperor, the clergy and the imperial unity

Louis the Pious was even more accommodating to the clergy than his father, and the many historians who call him devout, clerical and prudish are quite right. Already at the beginning of his reign, the young monarch renewed all the ordinances that had been issued in the time of his predecessors in favour of the Church of God. For this, he relied almost exclusively on clerics, mostly ‘Aquitanians’, of whom Bishop Thegan, a personage well acquainted with the emperor, said that ‘he trusted his counsellors more than necessary’.

The one who probably became the emperor’s most important adviser was the Visigoth Witiza, whom he greatly revered, with his programmatic monastic name of Second Benedict, and who was the son of the Count of Maguelonne, one of the dreaded swordsmen. In any case, this Benedict educated in the courts of Pippin III and Charles I (his feast is celebrated on 11 February), took part as a good Christian—a ‘good Christian’ certainly, as well as a ‘great soldier’—in the military campaigns of Pippin and Charles, before the tragic death of his brother pushed him to wear the monastic cowl. But he failed again and again in his ascetic career. He left the monastery of Saint-Seine in Dijon because he found it too lax. Then, at his father’s estate of Aniane in Montpellier, he drove away his first disciples with his rigorism. He then professed the monastic rules of Pachomius and Basil, because he found the Rule of Benedict of Nursia useful only ‘for weaklings and beginners’. But when he again entered into a vocational crisis, he extolled the Rule of Benedict of Nursia, which he reviled as the only valid norm for a monastic existence.

But one can hardly speak of weakness in the Benedictine Rule. When monks were rebuked by a prelate, they had to prostrate themselves at his feet until he permitted them to rise. And if a monk ran away, Benedict ordered him to be dragged back with his legs locked and whipped. The saint also ordered to have a prison in every monastery, and the monastic prisons of the Middle Ages were barbarous, and the conditions of existence in them were extremely harsh, for imprisonment ‘was equivalent in its consequences to corporal punishment’. (Schild). Moreover, this monastic reform ‘always contained a touch of bitterness against human science and culture’ (Fried).

Abbot Benedict of Aniane—to whom Louis first entrusted the Marmoutier Abbey in Alsace and then, very close to Aachen, the monastery of Inden (Kornelimünster), a new foundation generously endowed with crown goods, a kind of model abbey in the whole empire—spent much more time at court than at his monastery. The sovereign went there frequently anyway, and so he was given the name of ‘the Monk’. Benedict, who ruled over all the Frankish abbeys, remained until his death (821) the key man at court, where he dealt with trifles, memorials and complaints as well as important and serious matters, advising the emperor above all on the vast politico-ecclesiastical reform begun in 816.

The reform movement of the abbot, inspired by the Rule of Benedict of Nursia, aimed at the formation of a single Christian people out of the numerous peoples of the empire—which corresponded exactly to state policy. It sought to make Christianity the basis of all public life; moreover, it wanted to establish the Civitas Dei on earth: one God, one Church, one emperor, whose office always counted within the Church more than any ministry conferred by God. The prelates were therefore strongly interested in the unity of the empire, and their leaders passionately defended the idea of such unity. But they were in no way primarily interested in the empire, but in the Church, with the benefit of the Church foremost in their minds.

Benedict’s monastic reform, his ‘principle of one rule,’ affected not only monastic life, the so-called spiritual affairs. At least as important, if not more so, was the ecclesiastical patrimony. The emperor did not want it to be divided or diminished either in his reign or in that of his successors. He also forbade the already long flourishing soul-hunting, the luring of children into the monastery with flattery to gain their fortune, thus prohibiting a practice which had been in vogue since ancient times and which is still practised today, namely the disinheritance of relatives in favour of the churches.

Categories
Currency crash

When will it hit the fan?

Watch Mike Maloney’s latest video. He has just left the Rebel Capitalist Conference in Orlando, Florida. In the video Maloney recommends that we read Chris Martenson’s book. Those who don’t want to read it can watch a summary of the contents of that book on YouTube (this, for example, is ‘Crash Course 2.0: Chapter 2’, uploaded this week).

Categories
'Hitler' (book by Brendan Simms)

Simms’ book

On Sunday I had to get out of my house to avoid the music at a party my nephew was throwing. I had nothing better to do than spend a few hours at the most prestigious bookshop south of the city. I had originally planned to buy some of Plutarch and Xenophon on Sparta, but there were no good editions. I leafed through Darwin’s autobiography and was surprised that his wife censored a sentence of earlier editions where Charles said that the doctrine of eternal damnation was odious (in my diary I noted that this is why white people are dying out: it wasn’t even possible for these 19th-century little women to rebel against the most odious thing!). I was also browsing through a new study on the painter Giorgio de Chirico, of whom I have collected several paintings on this site. Finally, I stumbled across a new 2019 biography of Uncle Adolf: Hitler: Only the World Was Enough by British author Brendan Simms.

Although the authors of Dominion and Criminal History of Christianity are normies, I have been using their books to illustrate precepts of ours that have nothing to do with the liberalism of Tom Holland or Karlheinz Deschner, and I did the same with Richard Weikart’s Hitler’s Religion. The point is that people like us are never published by the System. And when we use a public platform, as I did with the books that appear in ‘Our Books’, the System simply cancels our accounts. Then there is the issue that all these normie authors, approved by the System, are thus capable of writing super-erudite treatises, like Hitler: Only the World Was Enough by Simms.

Brendan Simms, professor of history, University of Cambridge.

I bought his book because we are informed that, according to the author, Anglo-Saxon capitalism, primarily the United States, was Hitler’s main enemy, not Jewry. The premise is fascinating, but unlike the writings of people on our side, such as Francis Parker Yockey who held a similar premise, Simms has to utter the hackneyed anti-Hitler duck-speak from the first few pages of the book and the final chapter, to receive the imprimatur of a good publishing house. Nevertheless, like Weikart’s book on Hitler’s pantheistic religion, such normie authors provide a plethora of new research that is easy to use for altogether different purposes.

Unlike Holland’s Dominion, I won’t be able to quote from Simms’s book because the 2021 copy I bought is a Barcelona translation of the English original. Nevertheless, this Simms interview sheds some light on Hitler’s view of Anglo-America.

Of course, Simms repeats the religious figure of six million holocausted Jews ignoring videos, which can also be seen on YouTube, of how the Jewish press was already playing with the 6-million figure when talking about Russian pogroms before the Third Reich.

Categories
Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books)

Christianity’s criminal history, 173

– For the context of these translations click here

Charlemagne crowns Louis the Pious.
 

Louis I the Pious (814-840)

‘Ludwig’s empire was in fact to be an empire of peace… This, however, did not exclude wars against the pagans, but demanded them precisely, since they were regarded as allies of Satan.’ —Heinrich Fichtenau

Charlemagne, the saint, was not only active on the battlefields. As far as we know, he also had nineteen children, eight sons and eleven daughters, and of course with nine different wives (still an almost modest figure compared to the 61 children of Bishop Henry of Lüttich, that tireless worker in the vineyard of the Lord, or Pope Gregory X of the 13th century, who had ‘14 children in 22 months’).

But despite the Carolingian blessing of the sons, there was no problem in the matter of succession. In case of death, Charlemagne divided the empire among his three sons through the so-called Divisio regnorum. In addition, each was to assume the Defensio Sancti Petri, the protection of the Roman Church.

But quite unexpectedly the father saw the two eldest sons go to their graves: in 810 Pippin and the following year Charles, to whom the imperial crown had long been assigned as the main heir. All this affected the ruler to such an extent that he even considered becoming a monk. Of his ‘legitimate’ sons, only the youngest remained, and, as he was well aware, the one least suited to the throne: Louis, born in 778 in Chasseneuil near Poitiers. He would be enthroned emperor at the age of thirty-six, only to be deposed and enthroned again, losing the throne once more and regaining it later.

In any case, Louis the Pious had what it takes: even as a child ‘he had learned to fear and love God always’, as one of his contemporary biographers reports around 837. Charles exhorted his son and successor to love and fear the Almighty especially, to keep his commandments in all things, to rule his churches, to honour priests as fathers and to love the people as his children. He was to force proud and wicked men to enter the way of salvation, help the monasteries and procure God-fearing servants.

From that coronation onwards Charles, who was already quite decrepit and limping on one foot, did nothing—if we are to believe Bishop Thegan—but pray, give alms and ‘improve’ or ‘correct magnificently’ (optime correxerat), as Thegan himself says, the four gospels, the infallible word of God, before he died on 28 January 814. He left his son a gigantic empire, almost entirely the fruit of the plundering that he and his illustrious predecessors and ancestors had carried out, and consisting of four strong units: France, the centre of the state with the royal courts and the great abbeys; Germania, Aquitaine and Italy.
 

Killing and praying

Two fields that had long defined every Christian ruler, and would continue to define them decisively for many centuries, also marked the life of the young Ludwig: war and the Church. All Christian nobles had to learn the profession of war from an early age. As a rule, they had to be trained in equestrian combat even before puberty, and at the age of fourteen or fifteen, and sometimes even earlier they had to be able to handle weapons. And naturally, ‘the nobles were burning with the desire to go into battle’ (Riché).

Louis, too, who had a vigorous body and strong arms, and who in the art of riding, drawing the bow and throwing the spear ‘had no equal’, but who, according to the results of research, was a peaceful man, accompanied his father in his desire to annihilate the Avars at least as far as the Viennese forest. Shortly afterwards, in 793, again on his father’s orders, he supported his brother Pippin in a punitive campaign in southern Italy.

And yet Ludwig was a particularly good Christian, even better than his saintly father. On Charles’s orders, the pious and peaceful son also broke into Spain. He subdued and destroyed Lerida. ‘From there,’ writes the Astronomus, ‘and after having devastated and burned the other cities, he advanced as far as Huesca. The territory of the city, abundant in fields of fruit trees, was razed, devastated and burnt by the troops and everything that was found outside the city was annihilated by the devastating action of the fire.’

As was almost always the case at the time, only winter prevented the young Louis from pursuing the actions typical of Christian culture. For the rest, the Catholic hero not only set fire to cities, but sometimes also burned men, but only ‘according to the law of retaliation’ (Anonymi vita Hludovici). All very biblical: an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. And, according to the same source, as soon as ‘this was done, the king and his advisors felt it necessary to begin the attack on Barcelona’. And after the besieged, starving for weeks had devoured the old hides that served as curtains at the forty-one gates and others, driven by the desperation and misery of war, had thrown themselves headlong from the walls, the evil enemy surrendered. And Louis celebrated ‘with a feast of thanksgiving worthy of God’, marched with the priests, ‘who preceded him and the army, in a solemn procession and amid songs of praise, entered the city gate and made his way to the church of the holy and victorious Cross.’

Genuine Christianity.

In this connection we read of Ludwig in an old Catholic standard work that ‘he was always in good spirits’, that his spirit was ‘noble’ and his heart was ‘adorned with all good habits’ (Wetzer/Welte). A bloody sword and a heart of gold is something that fits perfectly into this religion. Was it not even a distant and modest reflection of the good God and his handling of hellfire? This is how the doctor of the Church and Pope Gregory I ‘the Great’ expresses himself with his knife-sharp theology: ‘The omnipotent God, as a kindly God, takes no pleasure in the torment of the wretched; but as a just God he defines himself as uncompassionate by punishing the wicked for all eternity’.

A comfortable religion: something that works for all cases.

It was precisely with this God, kind but ‘not compassionate for all eternity’ towards the wicked—and all enemies are wicked—that all kinds of robberies and murders took place, as was already the case in the time of the Merovingians and the Pippinids, and was constantly repeated in the Christian West. And again we read:

But trusting in God’s help, our people, though greatly outnumbered, forced the enemies to flee and filled the path of the fugitives with many dead, and their hands did not cease in slaughter (et eo usque manus ab eorum caede non continuerunt) until the sun disappeared and with it the light of day and the shadows covered the earth and the bright stars appeared to illuminate the night. With the assistance of Christ, they departed from there with great joy and bringing many treasures to their own.

With Louis I (Ludwig or Ludovico Pio i.e., the Pious) ‘the Christian doctrine reached the lowest strata’ and is becoming more and more firmly established. In order that the blood of all those barbarously murdered should not splash too much, that this chronicle of cruelty should not overflow to the brim, the spiritual and divine are always emphasised with greater emphasis, only to be smeared with blood in a dignified manner later on. That is why in the same context the chorepiscopus Thegan says: ‘He never raised his voice to laughter’. And likewise: ‘When he went to church every morning to pray, he always bent his knees and touched the ground with his forehead, praying humbly for a long time and sometimes with tears.’

Louis the Pious was influenced by the clergy from his childhood. For this reason he was so early subject to the Church that, had his father not prevented him, he would have become a monk. And, as the Astronomus also celebrates after his death, ‘he was so solicitous for the divine service and the exaltation of the holy Church, that judging by his works he might be called a priest rather than a king’. Pious, super-clerical and even rather hostile to the culture imposed by his father, Ludwig not only replaced the sensual courtiers in Aachen with clerics but also expelled all prostitutes and locked his sister in a monastery.

Categories
Feminism Film

Downton Abbey revisited

Since I can’t tolerate watching films or television if a non-white actor appears, I recently re-watched the seasons of Downton Abbey. About the first season of this English series I had already written something in 2013, and about the movie they made in 2019 I also wrote something. Recently I even posted a picture of two actresses from Downton Abbey within the series categorised ‘Aryan Beauty’. I was very naive in 2013 but by the end of the seasons I understood Downton Abbey’s bad messages better.

When I wrote what I linked above about the 2010-2015 TV series, and 2019 film, I omitted that in some TV episodes they mentioned Hitler. Those were times when he was imprisoned for his coup attempt, before he was released. Needless to say, mentions of Hitler and his followers even before he came to power were all very negative!

Instead of the English understanding that they were facing the rise of the greatest psychogenic emergency that History has ever witnessed (read the book of which yesterday I only quoted the final sentences), Downton Abbey saturates us with all sorts of frivolous and inane activities of the 1920s jet set, including horse racing, car racing, fowling, fox and deer hunting; cricket, superbly elegant dresses, restaurants for the rich, castles for the English nobility, impressive mansions and lastly a ball or formal dance party before the king.

But the overall message of Downton Abbey, both TV and film, is to show in a benign light the transition from patriarchy to so-called women’s liberation in England. Now they have even made another film. In this second, 2022 sequel of Downton Abbey, the Earl of Grantham even tells his daughter that she is now at the helm; that she is now the captain of the estate we see below!

Highclere Castle, used for the interior
and exterior filming of Downton Abbey.

If Aryan children were in my care they would never see such a thing on television or at the cinema. It is sad to say, but a priest of the sacred words like me can’t have fun with the prolefeed provided by the System.

For new visitors to this site: If you want to know why feminism is a weapon of mass destruction aimed at the white race read this book, or if you just want to read one of its chapters, see pages 99-116. If you are interested in English culture or English films, Jane Austen’s novels represent the world before the feminist psychosis that is exterminating white people—and will exterminate them for good unless a revolution revalues all western values.

Instead of Downton Abbey I would recommend a couple of films: Sense and Sensibility (1995) and Pride and Prejudice (2005).

Categories
Exterminationism

Savitri quotes

When will the inevitable Avenger come—he who will restore order, and put every being in its place? Is it my devotion to him that makes me so fond of all the forces that seem to want to crush this insolent worm that is man? Is he who, in April 1947, made me greet the sight (and the subterranean roar!) of the Hekla in full eruption as one greets the divinities in the temples in India and, in an ecstasy of joy, intone in Bengali the hymn to Shiva: ‘Dancer of Destruction, O King of the Dance’?

Almost forty years ago I came to the Indies, seeking  the tropical equivalent of Aryan and pagan Europe: that Ancient World where enlightened tolerance reigned, and the cult of the Beautiful drawing its very essence from the true. I have come and remained there; I have left and returned, always as a disciple of Adolf Hitler, the modern face of He Who Returns, always animated by the spirit of the fight against Time which he embodies, with all his glorious predecessors and with Kalki, the victor who must one day succeed him and them.

Now that there’s nothing else to do, my comrades, live with me in ardent anticipation of the end of this humanity, which has rejected us and our Führer. Mankind isn’t worth saving. Let it go, buried under the ruins of its hospitals, laboratories, slaughterhouses and nightclubs. I quote to you the verses that Leconte de Lisle addresses to the Virgin Forest, burned, uprooted, shredded by man: ‘Tears and blood will sprinkle your ashes / And you will spring from ours, O Forest!’ These are words of anticipated joy for me. I also remind you of the words of Goebbels at the time of the collapse of this Reich for which we lived: ‘After the deluge, us!’

All that remains is to wish, to call with all our might the Deluge—the End, to make ourselves personally responsible for its coming, wishing for it day and night. I would desire it, I would call for it, even if I were persuaded that none of us—including myself, of course; including those whom I most admire and love—would survive it. The world is too ugly without its true Gods, without the sense of the sacred in life, for the Strong not to yearn for its end.

My comrades: join me, and let us echo with Wotan the Song of the End: Eins will ich: das Ende; das Ende! [1] The world without humans is far and away preferable to the world in which no human elite will rule anymore.

Savitri Devi Mukherji

______________

[1] I want one thing: the end; the End!