After the fifth instalment of selected quotes from Benjamin’s book, I had planned to comment on Brendan Simms’ biography about Hitler. That way, I would be interspersing a post about the four words—which includes stopping abusing children—with another post about the fourteen words.
But since I am also a victim of abusive parents and a psychiatrist my mother hired to finish destroying me, reading Consumption makes me dwell on my past, especially since these days I have been suffering from what I wrote on the first day of the month in “Selfish heirs.” In many ways, my past was as handicapping as Benjamin’s. For example, it is unclear what will become of me when I run out of money from the sale of my parents’ house, divided among six heirs.
On the one hand, it is true that someone like “Bran the Broken”, whom (in my appropriation, not in the novel) his beloved father threw off the tower and who, with his broken spine, can no longer lead a normal life, can see his biographical past and even History from a paranormal perspective that normies, who lack that retrocognitive gift, can’t.
But on the other hand, material needs remain imperative. Even in the HBO adaptation of Martin’s novels—directed by a couple of Jews who in many ways betray the author—it can be seen that Bran enters the mind of his pet wolf to have the illusion of eating when, in reality, he is not feeding himself. These astral journeys can be harmful in that, in real life, Bran must feed himself, as his travelling companion Jojen warns him. The novel is even more sinister than the HBO series because it seems to suggest that, already in the cave and learning the magic of the three-eyed raven, Jojen allowed himself to be sacrificed so that Bran could eat a paste that was made from his body thanks to the culinary arts of the children of the forest…
I can say something similar about my countless journeys into inner space. Like Van Gogh and the painters of his time, I have sacrificed the most basic aspects of physical survival in pursuit of enlightenment about what happened in my early life. The difference, of course, is that in the real world there are no children of the forest to help me, even with their black magic. I have survived to the age at which Cézanne died, but it is unclear how I will survive when I reach my seventies. It really sucks that, if my literary work has any value (I am referring to the trilogy), I have to die to be recognised. And that’s if you’re lucky! (the work of Aristarchus of Samos, for example, was lost forever when the Christians destroyed the Library of Alexandria).
I will end this post with an image of the very copy that I used to look at with my parents when I was a child, around five or six years old: a book that inspired me greatly to understand the great painters. I am referring to an image of the first painter reviewed in the book, Cézanne:
2 replies on “Cézanne”
I know many aren’t interested in the topic of child abuse. But this lack of emotional intelligence is detrimental to our 14 words.
In his most recent email, Benjamin tells me something true: a leftist, despite his egalitarianism, would have said something while most so-called NS men of the 21st century will never understand the 4 words.
However, how else can the 14 words be defended than by protecting the Aryan children of the next generation?
Ben also told me that we can’t imagine the beauty of our women enduring if they all end up being abused as children, or committing suicide, or paranoid like my late sister, because they couldn’t tell their stories and no one among their men would listen.
Hopefully you can get some more steady donations by then. I might be in a position where I’m working (and would pretty much have to if Labour cut DLA which, though thwarted a few times, I think they inevitably will succeed at) at a time not too distant and then partially support you financially.
I empathise with you on the way child abuse wrecks (or at least alters; throws off course) an entire adult life though. There’s a reason I titled the final chapter of my previous book (TLTJH) ‘My Struggle’ when all I was talking about it in was basically unemployment, and I hope it didn’t sound hyperbolic or bathetic. You can refer to it if you like.
I’m in rented accommodation, with a small amount of gold savings, and could be chucked out at any time (increasingly probable if Serco have their way), so I can understand that precarious feeling. One just hopes for the gold to skyrocket. Though I’ve got the fine art as a last resort financial backup, I’d resent having to sell all (any of) the paintings I’ve bought.
Besides me though, there are enough other people out there now who could (ideally) help you. it would be a shame for it to end otherwise, and a situation I’ll try to prevent. I agree, your relatives kind of screwed you over on that, given your life, and circumstances.
My father asks me all the time ‘why are you not working?’ and it’s impossible for me to transmit to him the true reply (that always just seems like an excuse to unsympathetic others, those with their staunch, dogmatic, Protestant work ethic) ‘because you destroyed my self confidence to the point when I doubt my every action now… deliberating for long minutes on the simplest of tasks, and somehow I feel psychologically handicapped when it comes to holding down a career. I still don’t trust myself. Will I ever?’ So I get you, yeah. But it’s almost impossible to put to other people most of the time… I’m sure you’ve felt that. I feel like I’ve had a huge amount of time in life to reflect on myself, and to review others, and to perform endless self-study on a range of topics, far too much reading… but bar a few abortive self-employed creative stabs, I’ve never made a penny, and I’ve never worked…
Incidentally, I keep some of my most precious old books also. The Darwinian natural world compendiums I mention at the very start of Consumption, from before anything went wrong and I was happy, I keep sat on the shelf to the right of me…