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Category: Lord of the Rings

Categories
Literature Lord of the Rings Protestantism

The Scouring of the Shire

by Greg Johnson

After the destruction of the Ring and the downfall of the Dark Lord, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin return to the Shire only to find that it has been seized by aliens who have enslaved and robbed the hobbits and ravaged the land.

The returning veterans rouse their people to rebellion, killing many of the usurpers and driving the rest away. Then they discover who was behind it: the fallen wizard Saruman, who is banished from the Shire. Before he can leave, however, he is killed by his servant in crime, the treacherous Wormtongue, who is then felled by three hobbit arrows.

This chapter was omitted from Peter Jackson’s film trilogy (as well as Ralph Bakshi’s animated version), although Jackson does allude to it in two places. In The Fellowship of the Ring, when Frodo peers into Galadriel’s mirror, he has a vision of the hobbits enslaved and the shire blighted by dark satanic mills. In the extended version of The Return of the King, after the fall of Isengard, Merry and Pippin discover that Saruman’s storehouses contain products from the Shire, indicating some sort of contact.

But Jackson moved the deaths of Saruman and Wormtongue to the fall of Isengard. Wormtongue still kills Saruman, but he is dispatched by an arrow from Legolas. [see YouTube clip here] Thus when Frodo and company return to the Shire, they find it unchanged. Thus in Jackson’s telling, Frodo’s vision was just one possible future foreclosed by the death of Saruman at Isengard.

Still, I think it a shame that “The Scouring of the Shire” was not filmed, for it is a potent political allegory that remains relevant today. Most commentators simply note that the Scouring is based on Tolkien’s personal experience of returning from the trenches of World War I to find England a changed place. But the Scouring goes far beyond anything in Tolkien’s experiences. It is a work of imagination, a political allegory that far more closely resembles the experiences of German soldiers returning from the Great War to find a radically new, alien-dominated regime.

The Shire was subjugated as follows. After the fall of Isengard, Saruman was reduced to a wandering “beggar in the wilderness,” a refugee. But when he enjoyed power, the wandering wizard developed a far-flung network reaching all the way to the Shire, where he cultivated the friendship of Lotho Pimple.

The Shire was an agrarian, autarkic society of independent small farmers and merchants. Pimple, however, was sufficiently alienated and ambitious that he wished to change this social order. He wanted more land than he could work himself, and he wanted hirelings to work it, so he could grow rich by growing cash crops for export. In short, he wanted to be a big shot with a plantation.

By means of mysterious infusions of capital from outside the Shire (obviously from Saruman) Pimple managed to target economically troubled small holders for takeover (perhaps by loaning them money at usurious rates and then foreclosing when they could not pay), reducing them to employees on what was once their own land. Thus Pimple became a big man, styling himself Chief Shirrif and then just Chief. When Saruman and Wormtongue arrived as refugees, naturally Pimple took them in.

Having elevated the rootless and greedy Pimple to power, Saruman cozied up with the Chief and began to institute a new order. He brought in racially indeterminate aliens to intimidate and terrorize the hobbits. He also recruited hobbits of defective character — people who wanted to act big and meddle in other people’s business (in the internet age, we call them trolls) — to vastly expand the police force. This was necessary, because Saruman also vastly expanded rules and regulations in order to yoke and mulct the hobbits. Naturally there was discontent, so a vast network of spies and informants was created, as well as a courier service to swiftly convey reports and orders. Dissidents were thus easily ferreted out and imprisoned.

Society was collectivized. Private homes were replaced by ugly, cramped, ramshackle housing developments. Rationing was introduced to crush the hobbits’ spirits and lower their standard of living, freeing resources to be consumed by their new overlords or to be exported for cash. Leisure was restricted and work expanded. Handcrafts, which were fine for an aesthetically refined and ecologically sustainable subsistence economy, were replaced by heavy industry to produce exports for cash.

This industry was fueled by wholesale deforestation and fouled the water and the air. But the desecration of nature went far beyond the bounds of even economic necessity, betraying a hatred of nature and beauty as such. Saruman’s real goal was less to create a new world than to destroy the old.

Finally, to cement his rule, Saruman had his collaborator Pimple secretly killed once he had outlived his usefulness.

It is simply an error to reduce this all to an allegory of the endogenous rise of capitalism in England. For the role of Saruman indicates that this process was far from endogenous in the Shire. Nor was it in England, for that matter. Saruman represents an alien influence, specifically the Jewish spirit — rootless, alienated, materialistic, and ultimately nihilistic — which is incarnated both in Jewry and its extended phenotype, Calvinism and low-church Protestantism. (It was the Puritan Revolution that brought the Jews back to England.)

Yet Saruman’s takeover and elimination of Pimple does not resemble anything that happened in England. But it does resemble the revolution that deposed the Kaiser, followed by various Judeo-Bolshevik Putsches and ultimately the Jewish-dominated Weimar Republic. Furthermore, Saruman’s totalitarian system of spies and informants and his expropriation of small farms and seizure of their produce did not take place in England or Germany, but it did happen in Soviet Russia, leading to some of history’s greatest crimes against European man.

Thus “The Scouring of the Shire” is a political allegory applicable not just to England but to all forms of Jewish subversion of traditional society.

But it is also an allegory of how a people might regain control of its destiny. The hobbits have lost their freedom through salami tactics. Each day a little more of their freedom was sliced off, but not enough to cause a general rebellion, just a lot of passive grumbling, until finally, when the meaning of what was happening dawned on them, it was too late. Frodo and company, however, returned home after a long absence, and the change hit them all at once. It did not slowly demoralize and enervate them. It made them fighting mad.

And as war veterans, they knew something about fighting. The Shire was also lost because the hobbits were disunited and fearful, ultimately because they had enjoyed a soft and easy-going lifestyle. Frodo and his comrades, however, had been tested and hardened in the crucible of war. They were not cowed by alien bullies, no matter what their stature. They immediately resolved to rally their people and scour the Shire of the usurpers. The hobbits had been long groaning under the new regime. The veterans were the spark to the tinder.

A few opening skirmishes led to a climactic battle at Bywater, which left nearly 70 of the alien interlopers dead and the rest in chains or flight. Nineteen hobbits also lay dead. The hobbits then marched to Bag End to depose Saruman and send him packing without penalty. The prisoners were also sent on their way unharmed. These foolishly gentle policies toward murderers were justified by Frodo with effusions of moral and metaphysical clap-trap that remind us that, after all, this is children’s literature. Best we ignore him when our own enemies are at our mercy.

The closest historical analogy to “The Scouring of the Shire” comes from Germany, where various Freikorps groups — militias of demobilized veterans — put down Judeo-Bolshevik Putsches in Prussia and Bavaria. Furthermore, the successor of the Freikorps was the NSDAP, also led and staffed by veterans, which finally put an end to the Weimar Republic. It is a model worth contemplating today as thousands of white veterans return from a Jewish-instigated war in Iraq to face 30 percent unemployment in a homeland overrun and despoiled by non-white immigrants. They are a constituency just waiting for a leader.

Categories
Degenerate art Lord of the Rings Music Neanderthalism

Spitting on the avatar of God

Now that I am reproducing the best essays of Michael O’Meara’s Toward the White Republic, I’m becoming more conscious than ever that the so-called Jewish problem (like the Muslim problem) is but an epiphenomenon of a deep corruption within the white psyche, which unlike Christendom allowed the emancipation of Jews in the first place right after the French Revolution.

What strikes me the most about self-styled “counter-jihadists” is that they fancy themselves as defenders of the West, when, in reality, through their blind philo-Semitism they’re attacking the West.

Something similar could be said of white nationalists who support the unspiritual, degenerate music that has possessed westerners since the 1960s—what I call Neanderthalism—, as manifested in the following piece, “Is there no end?” that Iranian for Aryans wrote today.

But before reproducing his article let me indulge with a few compasses of music with a solo from a Norwegian fiddle called a Hardinger that represent the spirit of Rohan’s capital and Éowyn, its nymph. A single minute of music composed in our century that, in sharp contrast to rock, I consider inspiring (listen LOTR’s music here from the scene of Éowyn and the Golden Hall of Meduseld.)

 

______ 卐 ______

 

I [Iranian for Aryans] started my first blog back in 2004. One of my first entries was on the topic of non-classical music within the WN [white nationalist] “movement”. I excoriated the “music” and, therefore, did not condone those who listened to it. Today, I’m still of the same opinion. However, I realize now that the poison is deeper and is beloved by those to whom one should look up to, or at least, respect.

One such example is a spate of articles on Counter Currents extolling WN “music”. Basically, the music is a hodge-podge of heavy metal, rock’n’roll, and folksy music. To sum it up, it reeks.

Julian Lee has authored two articles that deal with the topic of the “white singing voice”. His style is insipid and his tenets and conclusions are dubious if not straight-out wrong. He goes through a litany of various White (are they White men at all?) vocal types (crooners, screechers, whatnot). He deconstructs them, he views them as if through a microscope, and then pontificates on them. But these are not the issue.  The problem lies with his espousal of, and love for, non-classical music; for rock “music”. I don’t refer to old-school country and bluegrass. I refer to WN “music” and its non-, or even anti-, WN forbears.

The man goes on and on about this rock “star” and that rock “star”. Enough already! It’s all junk. The godawful, mephitic, aural violations that emanate from what-passes-for-music in his article are not only an embarrassment and a waste of time, but antipodal to a truly uplifted soul that yearns for everything pulchritudinous, elevated, noble, veracious, and supernal.

What’s worse is that Greg Johnson, the editor of Counter Currents, who posts good articles on Mahler and Elgar, in addition to featuring lovely paintings, likes rock’n’roll, and, apparently, dislikes my barrage of antagonistic criticism, so much so, in fact, that I think he’s not publishing it.

I’ve given up on making my point as it has become an ad nauseum issue.

I agree with the mullahs of Iran. Those who promote “Western” music, are, according to the Shia clerics, enemies of God (Truth, Beauty, Enlightenment, Health, and Joy).

If one is in love with the White race, in love with what it has created, then to promote, or let alone, listen to rock, is to spit on the avatar of God.

Categories
Der Ring des Nibelungen Literature Lord of the Rings Richard Wagner

Wagner’s wisdom

One Ring to rule them all,
One Ring to find them
One Ring to bring them all and
in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

This piece, that originally appeared on The Occidental Observer (here), is reproduced below minus a couple of sentences mentioning the 9/11 attacks:


Lords of the Ring

by Michael Colhaze

Many moons ago and for a few years only, I wore my locks long and sported colourful garb and roamed the psychedelic haunts of Paris, London or Amsterdam, usually holding a joint in one hand while employing the other to underline with languid gestures my latest concept of how to bring instant peace and love to the world. As for my fellow freaks and hippies, most subsisted on very little, at least money-wise, but nearly all had pets, the latter named frequently after a brand of heroes much en vogue during those innocent times. For cats, Galadriel stood high on the agenda, also Arwen and Legolas. In Amsterdam my next-door neighbour, a middle-aged lady with henna-dyed hair, flowing dresses and tinkling bells around one fat ankle, owned a huge tomcat called Gollum. When he was one day run over by a lorry, she came and cried bitterly into my lap. I did my best to comfort her, though secretly rejoiced because the cunning bastard, nomen est omen, used to be a veritable bane for the local sparrows and blackbirds, and long since had I weighed means of abandoning him in a far-away place without coming under suspicion. As for dogs, I remember a Frodo, Bilbo and Pippin, also one Boromir, him a mighty Leonberger and the gentlest fellow I’ve ever met.

J.R.R. Tolkien

Which gives you an idea of how much Tolkien’s arrant epos was on our mind during those happy years. Wherever you came, you found in the bookshelves from cardboard boxes or orange crates at least one copy, usually a weighty paperback falling apart from much use. Walls were hung with coloured maps of Middle Earth, and Gandalf was a household name for anything from an Underground publication to a short-lived artistic society. Depending on fantasy and imagination, and perhaps also on the daily cannabis consume, an inordinate number of people identified with a member of the Fellowship, or wished fervently for the return of the King, or would have retired into the Shire without looking back even once.

On the other hand there were some, myself included, who had enjoyed the book but found it somewhat lacking in psychological depth. It was, after all, a monumental canvas painted largely in black and white, with protagonists either amazingly valiant, handsome and noble or the absolute opposite, namely unspeakably ugly and wicked. Which made the tale rather predictable and deprived it of the complex emotional touch that otherwise would have found a way into the heart. Still, Tolkien’s power of imagination cannot and will not be denied, and for his excuse it must be said that he relied much on the High Germanic saga like Edda or the Nibelungen, and that those were on the whole magnificent exemplifications of the eternal battle between Good and Evil. A battle where tads of intellectual embroidery might have seemed misplaced.

Yet under the heroic plainness hid an aspect that intrigued me and many of my friends considerably, namely the deeper meaning behind the fantasy. Because, as we all agreed, there had to be one since the tale was simply too carefully thought out to be without one. Never mind that the ghastly Sauron, title figure and main protagonist aiming to enslave the world and mankind particularly, didn’t turn up personally during the proceedings. But his presence is overwhelmingly felt, and he had to have an equivalent within the recent history of man, and as such a name that made sense.

First in line was of course Adolf Hitler, temporal saviour of a betrayed, ruined and starving Germany robbed naked by the Versailles victors, but for the rest and according to the New York Times the biggest blackguard ever to set foot on our sacred earth. Next came good old Joe Stalin, mass murderer par excellence supported by a closely knit clan of henchmen as described and defined by the great Solzhenitsyn in his Gulag and Two Hundred Years Together. Then the fabulous Chairman Mao, who most likely holds the Guinness record for accumulated corpses worldwide. And finally the inventors of the nuke, embodied by one Robert Oppenheimer who paid, just like that abominable fraud Freud, with lung cancer and a slow and painful death for his sins.

But try as you might, none of the above really made sense. One reason was of course that Tolkien had begun The Lord of the Rings already in the mid-thirties, long before those villains blossomed medially into full bloom.

As to the ring itself, what kind of power did it exactly wield? It was, this we know, potent enough to enslave the lesser ones, but not all-powerful. Because long ago Isildur King of Gondor, in a desperate attempt to stem the advance of the Orcs, had offered battle to Sauron their chieftain. And in a one-to-one succeeded with God’s help to cut off the latter’s hand which bore the ring. A feat that routed the Dark One and his hosts, at least for a while and until he tried another grab at the hideous thing.

My understanding of Tolkien’s political leanings is scant. He himself has, as far as I know, refused to give any clues. But there are hints. It is rumoured that he considered General Franco rather emphatically as the saviour of Catholic Spain, a view much at odds with contemporaries like that heartless hunter, boozer and scribbler Hemingway and his liberal chums. One of Tolkien’s close friends, the writer and poet Roy Campbell, had witnessed the atrocities committed by Marxist death squads against priests and nuns in Córdoba and described them in vivid detail. What makes him interesting in this context is that he also contributed articles to The European, a fascist gazette run by Lady Diana Mosley, wife of Sir Oswald and, as James Lees-Milne described her, “the nearest thing to Botticelli’s Venus as I have ever seen.” Ezra Pound, among others, was a fellow contributor to The European.

The latter should have rung a bell, but didn’t. Nearly twenty years had to pass before bits and pieces fell into place, at least within my much limited perception. One was an exhibition, the other a production of Wagner’s Ring.

The exhibition was staged in Frankfurt by one of the more affluent art establishments, meaning that decent Fizz, snacks with French pâté and a few interesting people could be expected on the eve of its grand opening. Which was the reason, some curiosity apart, why an old friend took me there. Both of us have no truck with Modern art and knew the artist only vaguely by name. Lucien Freud it was, grandson of you-know-who, and his hams about as uplifting as a dead rat under the sink. As we stood in front of one [painting], an uncouth male nude reclining on a smutty bedstead with legs spread wide open while scratching reddish genitals dangling above a cavernous anus, my friend cast a look around and said: “Grand Orc of the Crap Arts! Never had any sense of beauty, and never will!”

A remark that transported me immediately into a more sunny and innocent past, but also made me decline any comment. Because this was after all Germany, a country ruled by politically correct criminals that long since have booted the freedom of expression as laid down in the constitution, and who slap you for years on end into the cooler if you dare to insist on it.

Damned be the Ring I forged with a Curse!
Though the Gold gave me unlimited Might
Now its Sorcery has brought me Ruin!

The Rhinegold, 3rd Scene

About a week later I saw, and heard, Richard Wagner’s Ring of the Nibelung. I have no intention, and lack the intellectual acumen, to give this masterwork its proper due. George Bernhard Shaw, in his essay The Perfect Wagnerite, has summed it up like this: “Only those of a wider consciousness can follow it breathlessly, seeing in it the tragedy of human history and the whole horror of the dilemma from which the world is shrinking today.”

Dilemma? Horror? Shaw did not enter into detail as to the above, but the composer himself was more forthcoming.

You ask me about Jewry. I felt a long-repressed hatred for them, and this hatred is as necessary to my nature as gall is to blood. An opportunity arose when their damnable scribbling annoyed me most, and so I broke forth at last. It seems to have made a tremendous impression, and that pleases me for I really wanted only to frighten them in this manner. Because it is certain that not our princes, but the bankers and Philistines are nowadays our masters… [Correspondence between Wagner and Liszt, Vol. I, p.145, 18/4/1851]

He did however not intend, as stated very clearly elsewhere, to blame the whole tribe, just as you and I wouldn’t consider every Italian automatically a member of the Cosa Nostra.

Richard Wagner

As to the tremendous impression, this is how it commences. Namely at the very bottom of Germany’s mighty river Rhine. There a trove of gold lays embedded in a reef, glinting and gleaming mysteriously in the sunlight that filters through the timeless waves. Beautiful mermaids guard it on orders of their father, enjoying its dazzling radiance, cajoling and wriggling their lovely bodies in the bright reflection. Until one Alberich crawls out of the deep, a stunted Nibelung and Son of the Night who beholds the maids with greedy eyes. When he tries to seduce them, they only laugh, pull his beard and taunt him. Enraged, he asks about the significance of the gold. Carelessly they tell him that unlimited Power to rule the World is in store for the one who will forge a Ring out of the precious metal. But, they also warn him, this feat is only possible if he renounces forever the Power of Love. It takes Alberich only a moment to make up his mind.

The World as heirloom would I gain!
And if I cannot have Love
Might I not cunningly extort Lust?
The Light will I extinguish for you
The Gold will I tear from the reef
And forge the avenging Ring!
Let the Waves be my witness:
Forever have I cursed love!

He rips the gold from the rocks and forges the Ring to rule the World with cunning and brute force—and of course without Love.

“My Ring and Wagner’s were round, but there the resemblance ceases!” scoffed Tolkien rather maliciously after his book had been published in the mid-fifties. Which is so transparent a denial that it seems almost laughable. Shaw’s aforementioned essay The Perfect Wagnerite, nearly of book-length, much acclaimed and widely read, must have been known in detail to Tolkien as well. Because his Ring and Wagner’s are identical in theme and essence, twins in fact if only in a different quality of clothing. Meaning that the former, compared to Wagner’s peerless magnum opus, is over-large and very entertaining, but not really a masterpiece of literature in the classical sense. Interesting might be that Tolkien uses words like Mordor or Sauron, clearly derived from the German Mord, or murder, and Sau, or sow. Though his claim that his own name derived from the German tollkuehn, meaning extremely foolhardy, seems unlikely since it doesn’t exist as a family name.

As to the deeper meaning in both cases, it is important to know that the one Ring of Power has no magical potentials as we understand them. It cannot destroy enemy armies simply by an order of its bearer. It cannot make you fly. It cannot stop the flow of time. It can’t even prevent you from getting wet if it rains. It can make you invisible, true, but that is just an illusion. And you’d still get wet in any case. So what is it really?

It really is only GOLD! And isn’t that enough to rule the world?

For many of those who had witnessed the last decades of the great European Empires, a reign of peace and general improvement that ended abruptly and horribly with World War One, the era afterwards must have seemed like the proverbial devaluation of all values. Because the bankers and Philistines, already so powerful in Wagner’s times, had by now metastasized out of all proportion. Germany, down on its knees, was hardest hit. During the ill-fated and debt-ridden Weimar Republic the country’s capital, Berlin, boasted 115 banking institutions of which 112 were Jewish-owned. The same ratio was true for innumerable cabarets and brothels where girls and boys as young as ten years old sold their famished bodies to the new caste of money acrobats. As to the banks, they used the country’s catastrophic finances to their advantage and tricked and forced the starving population out of their assets, be it shares, shops, houses, farmland, factories or newspapers, until half of Germany was in the hands of a very few. The same happened, though much less drastically, in much of the Western World and resulted finally in the cataclysmic Black Friday. An exercise, as the Orc-faced Robert Fuld of formerly Lehman Bros. has informed us so brazenly, where we ruin a national economy and pick up the bits and pieces for a song.

Now it must be remembered that in those years public opinion was on the whole far less brainwashed than today. No Holocaust had yet been invented to slap down undesirable critics, no worldwide Media Mafia could tell you convincingly that a crock of shit is a pot of gold. Thus in many of the national and international gazettes, accounts of thefts, crimes and injustices abounded, backed up with caricatures of the cruel and greedy Jew.

Accounts that surely have been observed and considered by Tolkien as well. Therefore it seems highly plausible that the Ring he began to forge in his mind during the early Thirties wasn’t so very different from the one Wagner had invented a hundred years earlier. Particularly if we remember a rather interesting detail, namely that indeed one Aragorn strode out of the wild and re-forged the sword that was broken. A man not of royal descent, it is true, but some kind of Mahdi or Sent-One, as Carl Gustav Jung has called him. Very powerful, a great orator, fearless too, and immediately setting to work and succeeding, almost overnight, to break the Ring’s terrible stranglehold. A feat he brought about by throwing worthless paper money out of the window and replacing it with barter based on real goods and honest work.

Well, we know what became of him and his folks, and how dearly they paid for an attempt that endangered the supremacy of Sauron’s banking institutions worldwide. The latter regrouped, giving his Ring full play, and Germany’s ancient cities and their innocent inhabitants, millions of them, perished in a Firestorm of unimaginable magnitude and barbarity. A sad moment in our great Christian European history, you will agree, and its final curtain fittingly drawn by one of its greatest conductors, Herbert von Karajan, who performed on the eve of Berlin’s destruction the Ring’s last episode, Twilight of the Gods.

As for the Sent-One, there comes a day when he will be assessed more objectively and not just demonised out of all proportion. Some of the most hideous accusations levelled against him might crumble like a house of cards in a cloud of dust about as big as the [WTC collapse]. Which could result in two schools of thought, namely one where he remains indeed a villain, and another that pronounces him the most tragic character that ever walked the earth. Him and his people. As for myself, I still have to make up my mind.

As for Tolkien, nearly twenty years went by between the Ring’s first written page and its publication. A time span that radically changed the face of the world, including the book market. Which ended up, to a large part and small wonder, in Sauron’s hands as well. Thus it doesn’t come as a surprise if Sauron’s chronicler got somewhat mum and choose to refute any familiarity, let alone indebtedness, with and to his German forbear. And so removed any ideological obstacles and cleared the way for a tremendous literary success.

A success most certainly deserved, with the one little setback that we will never know what kind of Secret Fire the old wizard Gandalf the Grey has been serving, and which he so mightily evoked when he smote the Bridge of Khazad-Dùm from under the Balrog’s fiery feet. The latter an intriguing name, particularly if you keep in mind that Baal is the Canaanite god of fertility who demanded human sacrifices, and Rog the Hindi word for malady.

As for the rest of the world, the question is of course of how far the Lords of the Ring have succeeded to enslave us. Logically speaking, and seeing their immeasurable wealth and nearly unlimited influence, they should have long since consolidated the realm. Which seems indeed the case in most Western countries where presidents, prime ministers and chancellors are their obedient marionettes. Ring Wraiths, Tolkien has called them fittingly. Men and women like you and me, but empty-eyed. Outer shells of their former selves who command us to abandon our morals and artistic heritance, fight proxy wars for their masters, pay any amount of money into their purse, and generally order us to be at their service whenever it pleases them.

Yet something went badly wrong.

To begin with, the Shadows have been torn from the Land of Mordor, a mysterious region shrouded in deep secrecy for hundreds of years, but now glaringly illuminated. So much so that its schemes and crimes are every day more clearly observed and understood, be it the corruption of politicians, the doling out of jobs to foreign countries, the true intent behind globalism, the giant thefts, the resulting economical upheavals, the unspeakable atrocities in the occupied territories, the bungled assassinations, to name but a few.

Next come the Ring Wraiths, perhaps Tolkien’s finest invention. Enablers, Paul Gottfried has called them, and deems them worse than their criminal masters. Men and women who once possessed Christian souls and knew about the Power of Love, but sold both for thirty pieces of gold to forge their own insignificant rings. Trinkets that serve for a few brief years to ride the crest of power until a new contender wins the upper hand and sends them packing. Which is usually sweetened with honours and compliments to ease the approaching twilight years, a time when the ghosts and corpses of the past begin to whisper in the dark and the hour of reckoning draws close, slowly but inevitably.

Today this kind of sugar-coating can have a sour aftertaste, due to an unforeseen invention called the Internet which markedly diminished the control of the Media Mafia and its sniffing, lying, cajoling, mudslinging lackeys. That is why the Bushes and Blairs of this world have become lepers instead of paragons, with motions underway to hold them responsible for their crimes, including the death of countless women and children and that of many fine soldiers whose intentionally poor equipment has prolonged the conflict to this day.

Finally the Dark Lords themselves.

Those who have already entered the twilight years, like the one on top of this little essay [George Soros – I have omitted the images of the original article], watch with silent horror how the mountains of gold are seeping like water through their fingers, leaving them empty-handed and with nothing to bargain on Judgement Day. As for the others, still springy and enterprising, it is said they are preparing for the ultimate Armageddon with their nukes, viruses, bacteria, cheque books, connections and what not. And perhaps they do, because they see that the world has tired of them, of their lies and extortions. But if they do, they’ll have to fight themselves for a change and not let others do the dirty work. Which will result, as a kind of divine retaliation and since they are so few, in the final destruction of the Ring and the utter defeat of its forgers.

Because once, long ago, when tempted by a hoard of gold deep in the River Rhine, they made the wrong choice and… forever cursed the Power of Love.

Categories
Lord of the Rings

Beware of Wormtongue!

Or Against Takuan Seiyo

Still further to my previous entry in which I mentioned Tanstaafl’s essay “White Nationalism and Counter-Jihad”. Rosalie intervened at the Gates of Vienna (GoV) thread and her portrait of a half-Slav/half-Jew who in the blogosphere very misleadingly uses the penname of Takuan Seiyo (and who reminds me LOTR’s character Wormtongue) merits an entry on its own. At the blogsite Age of Treason,



Rosalie said…

For me, it defies reason why a bully and intellectual terrorist like Takuan Seiyo is considered respectable, accepted and praised in the counter-jihad community—and in any group of decent people. Compared to Seiyo, Larry Auster [about Auster cf. e.g., here] almost looks like the Good Samaritan.

Every time I read one of his comments online, I feel the need to intervene because my head almost explodes with anger seeing so much dishonesty, cunningness and obfuscation. Basically, everything he’s ever written might be summed up as “Whites everywhere feel the need to pay for pogroms, the Cossacks and Auschwitz with their suicide—and don’t even think about surviving until you uproot this evil from your hearts and minds”. Each and every of his essays or comments starts with a few sugarcoated paragraphs about the necessity to save the Western civilization, and then he comes back to the main point: don’t forget the pogroms, the Cossacks, Auschwitz.

It’s not only the transparent cunningness that makes my head explode—but also the unmatched Judaic thirst of revenge. Pretending that you want to save the Western civilization while reminding Europeans incessantly their tradition of “psychotic anti-Semitism” (the most painful issue for whites, the Holocaust guilt) is like pretending to help a drug-addict in recovery while admonishing him all the time “and never forget what a junkie you used to be: and you are a potential junkie for the rest of your life”. I prefer any time of the day a honest enemy to a destructive fake friend like this.

Seiyo makes me understand the mentality of the Jewish Soviet commissars and why Jews are capable to hijack any movement where they are accepted, from the Politburo to the Republican Party, at the expense of naive Gentiles, otherwise at least as capable of leadership as them. The virulence, hypnotic verbosity (talk as much as possible, never address the point), the fervor in silencing the opponents misrepresenting their arguments, character assassination as the main tool to stop the debate, sentimental blackmail and whining (“my parents, who survived the Holocaust”), etc. — all these aspects make me understand the mindset of many, from Trotsky to Alinsky, from Horkheimer to Bernard-Henri Levy.

Last but not least, it makes me understand the troubled Jewish-Gentile relations, in a nutshell. I don’t exclude the possibility that deep inside, at a subconscious level, intelligent, articulate Gentiles like Fjordman or the Baron [GoV’s admin] might simply be afraid of the bully and others like him. Not consciously, but as a suppressed reaction of protection.

@ Fjordman, the Baron, and others with Jekyll/Hyde “friends” like Seiyo.

Jekyll/Hyde is an apt characterization. You can notice his attitude towards me in the GoV thread. In the beginning he’s very friendly, with an almost father-like attitude. Then, when he realizes what I’m saying and that he can’t beat me with arguments, the wrath comes over my head: “I’ve believed that you might be saved, but it seems that I’m mistaken”. Notice how finally he placed me in the category of the unredeemable—the “Nazis”.

I can go on and on about his dishonest tactics and strategies. For example, when you respond to one of his posts and he’s unable to answer back with arguments, he disappears for a short while, then he’s back with a long diatribe against you consisting mainly in the accusation that you see “a Jew under every bed”, plus a panegyric praising the Jewish contributions to the Western civilization, plus a lachrymose eulogy dedicated to the victims of the pogroms and Auschwitz, like you’re personally responsible for them. Thus, the people who participate in the conversation don’t even know how all this started (he ducked out from the original conversation), and the impression that remains is that you’re a paranoid anti-Semite who blames Jews for all the ills of the world…

Jesus, expecting honesty and moral spine from these people is like expecting the Second Coming. Seiyo often claims that the main obstacle to save the West is the fact that paranoid anti-Semites are still around: they are the only reason the battle is lost before starting. The irony is, it’s exactly people like Auster and Seiyo that make any pro-Western movement impossible—and there are thousands like them. As long as we don’t have the strength to tell them, as a group, Get The Fuck Out (it’s as simple as that), we’re dead.

Categories
Lord of the Rings

Théoden or Denethor?

Or Against Fjordman III




Further to my recent entry about the notable counter-jihadist who blogs under the penname of “Fjordman.”

After my comments of my previous entry, also posted by me in Ned May’s blogsite Gates of Vienna (GoV), Fjordman reacted with unexpected hostility. But he didn’t address any of our points. A commenter who had been a fan of Fjordman’s previous writings replied to Fjordman: “You have not addressed one single point raised by the two commentators you lambast as ‘dishonest debaters’ — instead you embark upon a lengthy ad hom diatribe.”

The other commenter insulted by Fjordman was Tanstaafl. In his own blog, Tanstaafl’s comprehensive reply to Fjordman’s diatribe is so good that here I will limit myself to quote just a few of the comments of Tanstaafl’s essay “White Nationalism and Counter-Jihad”.

In the blogsite Age of Treason—:

Cicatrizatic said…

I think you [Tanstaafl] nailed it. He’s [Fjordman] too intellectually dishonest to reason through the Jewish question—he’s chosen to side with the Jews. Your comments make him uncomfortable, so he just pronounces that you are no longer welcome. A pitiful and cowardly response. Once bloggers side with the Jews, they adopt Jewish tactics, i.e., authoritarian control of “dialogue,” ad hominem attacks, extreme accusations, etc.

Mary said…

You are a good and decent person Tan, and I appreciate greatly the compassion and understanding you have extended to Fjordman given the shocking way he has just attacked you (and Chechar). I pray the day comes when he will thank you for said compassion and patience, and apologize for speaking to and about you in such a truly shameful fashion. It was such a “beta-style” rant, that I find myself having to craft an entirely new image of the man!

I mean come on! To accuse you—you being one of the most intelligent and honest writers in the blogosphere—of having a “low IQ”…

I mean, is the man looking for a career in stand-up comedy or something? I think you are bang on the money; he has come up against a most difficult inner hurdle, and as he could not bear to be challenged in the very public spotlight of the comments section at GoV he instead lashed out at you and made you “disappear.” I bet he will be seeing you under the bed and around corners from here on in, the poor bastard 😉

Brandon said…

You pushed his what I call “guilty button”. His reaction shows it. They who suppress the truth within themselves always do this when someone comes speaking truth. You got too close to the truth and they who are guilty of believing the lie can’t stand that.

Scott said…

I don’t share the confidence that guys like Fjordman will ever see the light. I’m convinced that those who come around are generally the ones who haven’t yet been exposed to the truth, very similar to how most young conservatives make a point of praising Martin Luther King before someone sets them straight about the mythology they are unwittingly promoting. It’s too obvious—such conversions shouldn’t take too long.



Jihadist Muslims in Europe are the invading Orcs. But the real enemy is Sauron (the subversive Jew).

–C.T.

My own comment for this blog…

At the beginning of the last year I still was, like Fjordman and most of the people in the counter-jihad movement, a staunch philo-Semite. But as Scott says, a couple of conversations about the Jewish Question set the philo-Semitic mythology straight in my mind, just as when Gandalf revealed Wormtongue for what he was, the bewitched Théoden, king of Rohan, returned to his senses.

But Fjordman is no Théoden. In Peter Jackson’s filmic interpretation of the Denethor character, the Steward of Gondor, Gandalf warns Denethor that Sauron is now ready to strike and urges him to call Rohan for aid. Denethor declines…

Like Denethor, Fjordman, who has been confronted by the dissident voices of the current narrative, has chosen to dissociate the whole Sauron problem to avoid any cognitive dissonance whatsoever. Like the Denethor of the movie, Fjordman’s sin of dishonesty comes from intellectual cowardice.

Denethors won’t ever see the light. They’re too far gone. Let’s focus on the potential Théodens instead…