Sherlock Holmes

In my previous post I mentioned My Fair Lady, in which the actor Jeremy Brett sings ‘On the Street Where You Live’ which made waves among female boomers. But I was unaware that, in later years, Brett had starred in an English television series that takes up the Sherlock Holmes stories from the pen of Arthur Conan Doyle. In these times, when the ethno-treason and ethno-suicidal psychosis of white people has reached its final metastasis, it is refreshing to have a little escapism with a series of programmes that transport us back to 19th-century England, before the treachery that the West is currently suffering.

I must say that the movies that have recently come out about Sherlock Holmes have nothing to do with Doyle’s stories. They are films whose screenplays were made already in the darkest hour of the West. Even a 1979 film like Murder by Decree with stars like Christopher Plummer and James Mason already contains subtle messages of cultural self-loathing.

When I was twelve I bought Doyle’s complete works on the most famous detective of all time but never read them; just an illustrated Sherlock Holmes story for children my age. But nowadays children no longer have access to such illustrated stories; only to the most recent ‘Sherlock Holmes’ movies, which are not even loosely based on Doyle’s prose: they are inventions of our dark age. I don’t even want to mention the titles of those recent movies that betray Doyle’s stories.

I am attracted to the figure of Holmes because I have become a sort of detective looking for psycho-historical clues to understand the dark hour. Or rather: I have taken advice from the best historical detectives to understand the present, and I am referring to the literature I recommend in the featured post. From this angle, I would rather be a Dr Watson who took the trouble to narrate the adventures of his mentor. Although Dr Watson’s work is not original (Holmes is the original investigator) in the featured post it is more than clear why whites, contemporary Englishmen included, are hating themselves in our century to the point of wanting to commit ethnic suicide.

I have been to England several times in my life, in the 1980s and 1990s, but it was only in 2014 that I spoke to a group of racialists, at the London Forum. At a round table at The Victory Service Club, located at 79 Seymour Street, near Edgware Road, one of the members of that forum remarked to me that he had liked my excerpts from Pierce’s Who We Are and that he had sent the links to another of the London Forum members. What a strange thing that, having been born in an underdeveloped country whose majority is so inferior to the stock of the native English, I have more detective insight than these educated London racialists…

A perfectly legal way to start rebelling against the ethnocidal System is to repudiate the degenerate clothing that has become fashionable in recent decades and start dressing as the English dressed before they began to hate themselves. For the time being, I’ll finish watching the rest of the episodes of the series featuring Jeremy Brett. Now that my mother has died I’ve cancelled my Cable subscription, which was in my name but only she watched it. From the point of view of the fourteen words, everything that can now be seen on TV is ethno-treason, and only by watching old films from the previous century that recreate the 19th-century West is it possible to detect something of the pre-Kali Yuga zeitgeist.