Now that I’ve asked that only those who are ideologically similar to Himmler’s willing executioners comment here, I think I should say a couple of things.
The first, the most important, is that I cannot tolerate talking to people who do not hate to the point of wanting to blow up the ethnocidal System throughout all Western countries. If there is no infinite hatred like the one I feel, there cannot be an authentic dialogue.
On the other hand I am pleased that, since I linked my excerpts from a psychobiographical study of Nietzsche, apparently twenty-nine visitors have clicked on the link, although I don’t know if they reached the following passage:
During all the years of his pilgrimage he never once put up in friendly and cheerful surroundings, never at night felt the warm body of a woman pressing against him; never did the sun rise to see him famous, after a thousand nights of dark and silent labour. How immeasurably vaster was Nietzsche’s loneliness than is the picturesque highland of Sils-Maria where between luncheon and tea our tourists wander in the hope of capturing some of the glamour that clings to a spot sanctified by his presence. Nietzsche’s solitude was as wide as the world; it spread over the whole of his life until the very end. Conversation wearied and irritated him who constantly gnawed at his own vitals and whose hunger for himself, and himself alone, was never satiated.
Sometimes only in the most terrible, and even maddening solitude, is it possible to see the great truths that plague the white man: like what Nietzsche saw and we quote at the end of the masthead of this site, the essay on the surreptitious war of Judea against Rome. But I am glad that, apparently, I’m no longer as lonely as Sils-Maria’s philosopher because of what some people have told me and I recently reproduced.
Nevertheless, I am still a voice crying out in the desert as a commenter put it the day before yesterday on The Unz Review.