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Category: Kali Yuga

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Kali Yuga

The Village

In this second post of 2024, I respond to Jamie.

The wisest person after 1945 was Savitri Devi. These days I have been watching videos on cosmogony and the vastness of the universe. Among the Aryan religions, the only one that had a broad meta-perspective of the universe was Hindu. Savitri lived in India, learned languages and instead of committing suicide when Hitler lost the war she tried to understand what happened based on her knowledge of the ancient Aryan religion.

We live in Kali Yuga, the dark hour, the title of this blog. In Kali Yuga, says the millenary tradition, everything will be upside down. But in our century that applies even more to the West, as whites are behaving in a directly treacherous manner against their ethnicity.

A year ago I left a post about who wanted to educate his child in National Socialism and no one replied. Like the present featured post, ‘The Wall’, I left it up for several days but no one said anything to me. I concluded that since we are in Kali Yuga there are practically no more, as Savitri said in her book, true ‘aristocrats’.

It is hard to admit it but even the racialists are part of the Kali Yuga zeitgeist to the extent that they aren’t consistent as, say, Hitler was consistent with his principles. That’s why they love degenerate music. The inconsistency of these so-called anti-Semites is so egregious that the vast majority has stayed on the south side of the Wall, living under the mandates of Christian ethics (and we already know who wrote the New Testament!). The degenerate music they listen to is simply one of the symptoms of their corrupt spirit.

If you want to educate a child who isn’t yet contaminated by degenerate music, you have to isolate him or her from the environment and take your child out of Gomorrah as if you were Lot.

If you review Hitler’s life you will see, as Savitri saw, that since he was a teenager he felt a great attraction for the beautiful European art (something we also saw in Simms’ book, when referring to the books he read as a young man). That is virtually absent in today’s racialists. They live in Kali Yuga, which includes degenerate music. I see it with my nephew. While both of my parents were musicians by profession (classical music), and founded a music school for children, my nephew who attended there is an absolute degenerate in musical matters. In other words, my parents’ school was a complete failure. Only cutting him off from Gomorrah from the age of six, founding a Village far from the madding crowd would have worked.

That would have to be done in the Third World because in the West the treacherous governments wouldn’t allow such an educational enterprise. But that can’t be done unless we have enough funds for several families to buy real estate abroad, found a village and try to educate our children there.

So, unless a sponsor comes along who wants to do something similar to what the Aryan Mennonites do here in Mexico but without their Christianity, there is no choice but to live as isolated individuals and navigate Kali Yuga. The good news is that, as Eduardo Velasco said in the appendix to On Exterminationism, this Age was considered by the ancient Aryans a great opportunity to purify oneself, like the lotus in the mud, which is what I attempt in The West’s Darkest Hour.

Categories
Kali Yuga

Humble site

A couple of days ago Ron Unz wrote for his The Unz Review a ridiculous article boasting about the millions of hits alternative websites to the MSM receive. Unz thought the results were quite encouraging. However, from the list he puts up, I get the impression that few of the sites are overtly racialist. And anyway, even the racialist sites subscribe to the Judeo-Christian morality that is killing the white man. I prefer a thousand times my humble site, that in hits cannot compete with those on Unz’s list, but which is a site that puts the transvaluation of Judeo-Christian values to Aryan values as the top priority.

The reactionary ideology of the other sites, which includes the racial right, doesn’t break with the paradigm that has held the white man in thrall to an ethno-suicidal vision since Constantine ordered the Romans to worship the god of the Jews. Not to begin your discourse with a Nietzschean vision that starts from here (see Velasco’s essays in The Fair Race) is intellectual charlatanism.

In my previous article, I spoke of being alone under the redwoods. In the language of Cervantes, there is a saying that I translate as follows: ‘Solitude is better than accompanied solitude’. Indeed: I prefer the solitude of the redwood forest, in the hope of meeting someone else who has crossed the river, to travelling to the US, say, to attend the recent American Renaissance conference and talk to one of the participants.

How to give an idea of what transvaluation is in a single image? Consider this one: Constantine was the worst man in Western history. And Hitler, the best. (We cannot say that Jesus of Nazareth was the worst because he didn’t even exist: he was a fictional character from the pen of subversive Jews that Constantine would use to tame the blond beast.)

Categories
Film Kali Yuga

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.

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Kali Yuga Kalki

Savitri & Eduardo

Or:

To whom this site is dedicated

As promised in this comment when I announced the PDF of Savitri Devi’s book, the entry below this post translates, from Spanish into English, an essay that Eduardo Velasco published on his now-defunct webzine Evropa Soberana. The subject is Hinduism: a fundamental topic to understanding Savitri’s point of view.

I don’t know exactly what to say about these Hinduist predictions in Eduardo Velasco’s blog post ‘The Fate of the World According to the Indo-Aryans’ (original in Spanish: here). In general, I tend to be more sceptical than Savitri and Eduardo when it comes to paranormal precognition. But since Eduardo alluded to dream symbols I could say that, from that viewpoint, there could be real gold in the oldest Aryan religion that has left sacred scriptures.

 

What the word ‘Kalki’ means under my pen

Consider the Kalki archetype for example. In Savitri’s prose and Eduardo’s quotations we are told that he will be a personal entity that will destroy the wicked. Since over the decades I have given much thought to exterminationism, it is only natural that the finding that this apocalyptic figure is invoked precisely in the oldest Aryan religion caught my attention. Before discovering Savitri’s philosophy it was something I was unaware of!

Kalki and his white horse. In Hindu traditions, Kalki is the last incarnation (avatara) of the god Viṣṇú. In the above copperplate engraving we see an illustration of an English translation of Zaaken van den Godsdienst by the Dutch writer François Valentijn (1666-1727).

I believed in the paranormal from the middle 1970s to the middle 90s. Nowadays, because of my rationalist mind, it seems to me that we could interpret the figure of Kalki not personally, but as the apocalypse for mankind that energy devolution will represent. Let us remember that, among contemporary racialists, only the retired blogger Sebastian E. Ronin made peak oil his pivot for understanding how Aryans will have one more chance to save themselves when energy devolution wipes off several billion humans. (If there is anything we could call human personnel in the Kalki archetype, it will be the leader and his henchmen who will be in charge of eliminating the surviving scum after billions have already died when the oil runs out. It is to this future apprentice of our ideas, or leader who will achieve what Hitler failed to achieve, that I dedicate this site.)

Originally, after reading Arthur Clarke’s Childhood’s End in 1984 I became a sort of parapsychologist. I obviously failed. Now that I understand science much better than when I was a young man, I dare not say dogmatically that the paranormal, which includes the precognition we read in both Savitri and Eduardo’s prose about Hinduism, doesn’t exist. What I am saying, after delving deeply into the parapsychological and sceptical literature from 1985 to 1997 is that, despite their claims, parapsychologists have no real evidence for what they call ‘Psi’. That doesn’t mean that extrasensory perception (which includes precognition) and psychokinesis (another term invented by parapsychologists) don’t exist. It means that we have no real scientific evidence that they do exist. Above I mentioned 1997 because that year I read Nicholas Humphrey’s Leaps of Faith which corroborated what I already knew from a couple of years earlier: that parapsychologists haven’t demonstrated the existence of the putative phenomenon they study. (Likewise, Christian theologians haven’t demonstrated, and obviously won’t demonstrate, the historicity of Christ or even the existence of the god of the Jews.)

That said, my rationalist scepticism doesn’t rob the first Aryan religion of its numinousness, or even profound truth. From a symbolic point of view, Hinduism may be telling us great truths. Any reader of Jung will understand what we are saying. But regardless of a psychologistic interpretation of religion, my motivation for translating Eduardo’s article has to do with my purpose to elucidate and round up what Savitri told us in the book we translated and abridged. (Incidentally, I will be translating other articles by Eduardo in the future, although, as they are very long, unlike the one published below I will divide them into several entries.)

 

How I would interpret the term ‘Kali Yuga’

The other issue is Kali Yuga, also explained in Savitri’s and Eduardo’s texts. Taking into account my book Day of Wrath (see ‘Our books’) it is clear that I don’t believe in such a thing as a previous Golden Age. But I do believe that our age is the darkest for the survival of the white race since prehistory, a dark age that those versed in Hinduism call Kali Yuga.

In my view, the dark hour for the Aryans began when Hannibal’s armies decimated the Romans. After the Punic Wars the Republic was no longer as it had been before. The process of miscegenation and eventual intermarriage and blood-mixing that would culminate, a few centuries later, with the Christians coming to power, already started after that pyrrhic victory over Carthage. After Constantinople was funded, the new capital of the Roman Empire became a melting pot for all races and a bye-bye to Nordicism throughout the Mediterranean.

In short, from my point of view the Christian era is the dark age, the Kali Yuga. This way of interpreting Aryan religion is closer to Friedreich Nietzsche, a fan of the Law of Manu, than to Savitri or Eduardo who wanted to rescue what they call the esoteric side of Christianity. I, on the other hand, believe that the whole of Christendom is cursed and that we should strive to transvalue Judeo-Christian values back to Aryan values. Hitler’s pantheism, as described by a friend, Savitri Devi, and a foe, Richard Weikart, is very close to this ideal; and for this reason Savitri’s book is a kind of manifesto for The West’s Darkest Hour.

Categories
Kali Yuga Miscegenation

Astronomical self-hatred

The last time I visited England I saw loads of advertisements, everywhere: photos of mixed couples, English roses with Orcs.

When I first visited England, in the early 1980s, there was none of that on the streets or in the subway. It is obvious that the English of today suffers from a self-hatred without precedent in history: a self-hatred that reaches, indeed, astronomical levels.

(This was a response to what an Englishman commented this morning on this site.)

Categories
Exterminationism Kali Yuga Kalki Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) Third Reich

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 102

Perhaps the last great collective Aryan creation in the West was that of the German Third Reich, with the architects of the new Chancellery and the Nuremberg Stadium; the sculptors Arno Brecker and Kolbe, and the interpreters of Wagner—in particular, the extraordinary conductor Fürtwangler. It was the result of a prodigious upsurge of the whole of Germany, under the inspiration of the supreme artist, Adolf Hitler, against the tide of world decadence. This momentum was abruptly interrupted, after only six years, by England’s declaration of war on Germany, immediately followed by the familiar coalition of hatred, under the overt or subtle leadership of the Jews.

 

______ 卐 ______

 

Editor’s note: This is where Savitri and many white nationalists fail, in that the leadership actually came from the American ethno-traitors (see what I said yesterday about John Mearsheimer). That doesn’t mean that Jewry is non-guilty. It means that Jewry was always a minor player compared to the anti-German initiative of the Anglo-Americans. (The best metaphor I can think of is a poison in which the active ingredient is provided by the ethno-traitors, and the catalyst that accelerates that poison by the Jews.)

 

______ 卐 ______

 

Everything that the non-German West has produced recently that is truly great—in France, for example, the work of a Robert Brasillach, a Henry de Montherlant, a Céline, a Benoît-Méchin, a Saint-Loup—has been, in one way or another, affected by the spirit of the Reich. There is, moreover, from one end to the other, a deep pessimism like a prescience of the inevitable death or the ‘decline of the West’ already announced by Spengler.

And the East is no better. It lives on its traditional wisdom; it performs its immutable rites and quotes its sacred scriptures whose content is older than prehistory since it is truth itself—non-human truth. But it doesn’t seem to have the strength to draw from it anything to regenerate from top to bottom. (It is, I remind you, a Hindu minority, as well as a European one, and a minority without political influence, alas, that has understood what eternal link exists between Hitlerism and the Doctrine of violent action in absolute detachment, as preached by Lord Krishna to the Aryan warrior Arjuna, in the Bhagawad-Gita).

I have, on the other hand, now, in 1971, found in India more echoes than ever of the expression of my passionate expectation of the Kalki avatar, and the end of the Dark Age. Others await it as I do, and they too don’t feel that there is anything to deplore at the thought of the end of man—except for those few whom the last divine Incarnation will welcome as collaborators, deeming them worthy to open with Him the Golden Age of the next Cycle.

There is no reason to be saddened by the idea that the innumerable ugliness that we see spreading everywhere, on every continent, will one day be definitively swept away along with those who have produced them, encouraged or tolerated them, and who continue to produce new ones.

There is no need to be saddened by the fear that the old and beautiful human creations—the Pyramids of Giza, the Parthenon, the temples of South India, Ellora, Angkor, Chartres Cathedral—may well be swept away along with them, in the colossal fury of the End.

The ugliness that man has accumulated, the desecrations of the Earth of which even the best races have been guilty in this century of universal decay, neutralise by far all that the genius of the Ancients has produced that is greatest and most beautiful. They make us forget the winged bulls of Babylon and Assyria, the friezes of the Greek temples and the Byzantine mosaics, and tip the scales in favour of the disappearance of the human species.

Moreover, eternal works no longer belong in today’s world. We don’t even see them anymore. The ugly glass and steel buildings for offices, erected recently in the centre of Athens around the Place de la Constitution, completely hide the view of the Acropolis from anyone standing in the square. The frame of the four-thousand-year-old cities is destroyed. Lycabettos, three-quarters stripped of its beautiful pine forest, is no longer Lycabettos in the eyes of those who knew and loved it fifty years ago.

And so it is everywhere. It is, or will be tomorrow on a planetary scale, the realisation of the sacrilegious dream of Descartes and all the devotees of anthropocentrism. It is the triumph of the immense human anthill over the savannah, the desert, all the terrestrial spaces where the superior man could still be alone and, through visible beauty and contact with the innocence of private life of the word, commune with the eternal.

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Kali Yuga Miscegenation Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) Winston Churchill

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 99

What I am saying here about the decline of the Aryan is not confined to India. It is a fact observable in any country with a multiracial population, in which the State opposes the promotion of the superior ethnic elements, instead of encouraging it at all costs and by all means. This is particularly evident in any country with a multiracial population in which the state clings to democratic rule, where power rests with the majority. It is a fact which, in an ironic twist of fate, is increasingly threatening to take hold in Britain itself, as a growing multitude of non-Aryans of the most diverse races, and people of no race at all, peacefully invade and swarm.

I have been forbidden to visit England since my participation in the Hitler camp at Costwolds in August 1962, and I cannot, unfortunately, give here the result of recent personal observations. I can, however, state that the situation created nine and more years ago by the presence on British soil of almost two million Africans, Jamaicans and Pakistanis, not to mention, of course, the Jews who had arrived as early as 1933, was already alarming, if not tragic. And, according to the echoes that I have been able to hear, it has only worsened since then, as no measures have been taken to expel all these non-native elements.

There has been an attempt, it seems, or a pretence of an attempt, to exercise somewhat tighter control over the entry of these Commonwealth subjects into England. But this is not the solution to the problem. Non-Aryans, and especially Africans and Jamaicans (the latter, originally African Negroes too), are multiplying at a rate nine times faster than the average European Aryan. It is clear, therefore, that an absolute ban on even one new immigration would surely not be enough to stem the danger to Britain’s very fabric.

Assuming that not a single non-Aryan, Negro or Jew, or Indian Sudanese who have been converted to Islam for some time (for that is what a ‘Pakistani’ is), lands in England from now on, even for a temporary stay, it would make virtually no difference to the situation in the long run, that is to say, to what is already the tragedy of the race problem, in the country which has madly given itself the mission of fighting Hitler’s racism with arms. It wouldn’t change anything because, I repeat, the non-Aryan immigrants who are already settled in England—who work there, who live there with their families, who have acquired, for the most part, citizenship—multiply much faster than the English; and because the benefits, and in particular the medical benefits, which are lavished on them, only encourage their demographic growth. All further immigration being, let us assume, forbidden, the numerical proportion of the Aryan to the non-Aryan population of Great Britain during the next few decades, and a fortiori; during the centuries to come, would nevertheless shift in favour of the non-Aryans, and among these, the Negroes: the people who multiply fastest.

We must also take into account the inevitable mixing of races, all the more frequent (and more revolting) because to the growing perversity of the men and women of the advanced Dark Ages, we must add the influence of a whole literature designed to arouse and maintain a morbid sexual curiosity. Today, yesterday, ten years ago and more, it is (and was) not uncommon to see in the streets of London some beautiful blonde Englishwoman pushing in front of her a child’s carriage in which rest (or rested) one or sometimes two little Euro-African half-breeds.

You can see them even in small towns (I have seen them in Croydon, Chettleham, and elsewhere). It would only be possible to put an end to these shameful and unnatural unions and this production of half-breeds, by changing the mentality of a youth that has so far been increasingly indoctrinated with anti-racism, while taking radical measures for the definitive removal, if not the physical elimination, of current or potential undesirables.

If they are to be kept alive and their labour used, all half-breeds should be sterilised without exception, as well as Aryan women guilty of crimes against the race: for once they have been impregnated, even once, by foreign seed, they are no longer safe (there have been cases in which the child of a very acceptable husband bore a dangerous resemblance to the unacceptable lover whom his mother had left long before his conception). And all Negroes, Jews, and other non-Aryan elements should be forced to leave the national territory, or at least to live there only in exceptional cases, and then subject to laws and regulations that keep them in their place—such as the famous Nuremberg Laws of September 15, 1935 that protected the racial integrity of Germans under the Third Reich.

But for this to be possible, Britain would have to have a dictatorial government of the same type as that of Germany in 1935, and inspired like it by the ancient faith in the excellence of blood purity. Can it ever hope to have one?

Such a Government was able, across the Rhine, in 1933, to come to power ‘by the legal way’, that is to say ‘democratically’, by relying on a majority of voters (and what a majority!) in universal suffrage. It was able to do so because the German people, without having the racial homogeneity the Führer dreamed of, at least had sufficient biological unity to feel their interest linked to that of the Aryan blood. If nothing is done, and done soon, to remove the non-Aryans in Britain from participation in public affairs, it is clear that, given their soaring numbers, they will play an increasingly decisive role in the country’s internal and external politics and its cultural life. (The theatre, cinema and television already seem to have long since become the ‘reserved hunting ground’ of the Jews, without whose approval nothing is played.)

The Aryans will eventually have to abdicate the position of leadership which the virtues, inherent in their race, had given to their fathers, at a time when democracy was conceived only among equals, and there were neither Negroes nor Jews in England[1]. They can, of course, remain pure of blood. And for that to happen, they will have to take great care that their children’s minds are not contaminated by the increasingly insistent influence of the multiracial school, radio, television, cinema, the press, books (especially textbooks); in a word, all the means of dissemination that the majority, hostile to all ‘racial pride’, will have taken more and more firmly in hand.

What is certain is that their numbers will diminish more and more, and especially diminish in proportion to those of men of other races who will then call themselves, without having any right to do so, ‘the English people’ (like so many Indians today, Dravidians, or even mixed-race aborigines who, without having any more right to do so, boast of being part of the Aryajati, the Aryan race, the biological elite of their country).

Eventually, in a few centuries, they will be a hundred thousand, fifty thousand, twenty thousand, scattered over the whole surface of the British Isles, then overpopulated with half-breeds of different shades. They will be drowned in some hundred or two hundred million robots, generally dark-skinned, with the most varied features, a termite mound directed by the diabolical intelligence of a few Jewish technocrats. They will be the only creatures in this termite mound worthy of the name ‘man’ in the sense we would use it. But the world of that time will have no use for such creatures.

Perhaps they will cultivate in themselves a belatedly awakened Aryan consciousness. Perhaps they will manage, despite the distances, to meet from time to time, in small groups, and talk nostalgically about ‘old England’, now deader than the Athens of Pericles. Perhaps, at some pitiful meeting, on some historic anniversary, some man of knowledge and insight will arise and tell his brethren of the race the remote and deep causes of their downfall.

‘Behold,’ he will tell them, ‘we are paying the price of the folly of our fathers of the 19th and 20th centuries; those who, in what was once our Empire, encouraged the propaganda of the Christian missionaries, compulsory vaccination, and the adherence of the “literates” to democratic principles; of those, above all, who, moreover, stubbornly refused the hand sincerely extended to them by the greatest of all Europeans: Adolf Hitler; of those who, in response to his repeated offer of alliance and his promise to leave us the domination of the seas, unleashed the Second World War against him, drowned his country in a deluge of phosphorus and fire, and burned alive nearly five million of his compatriots, women and children, under the burning rubble or in the shelters where the liquefied asphalt of the streets penetrated in fiery streams. We are paying the price for the crimes of Mr Churchill and others and of all those who believed in them and fought against National Socialist Germany, our sister, the defender of our common race. These men, you may say, were bona fide, but short-sighted. That may be so. But that doesn’t excuse them before history. Stupidity is itself a crime when the interest of the nation, and especially of the race, is at stake. We cannot do what our fathers did—to their shame and ours—and escape punishment!’

The punishment will be to have some woolly-haired, simian-faced Christian as Prime Minister of Great Britain: a descendant of equatorial African immigrants annihilated for ‘services rendered’, and perhaps named Winston, after the gravedigger of the former British Empire. The punishment will be to live amid a brownish, camel-headed England—also, at least in large part, woolly-haired—whose former inhabitants, the legitimate inhabitants, the Aryans, whether Normans, Saxons or Celts, will number as few as the Native Americans on the reservations do today in the U.S.

Then, perhaps, groups of true Englishmen, more obstinate than the others in their resentment of the defeated and betrayed, more combative if not less desperate, will burn, every 8th of May, some effigy of Churchill, purposely grotesque; his big puffy, plump face, furnished with the legendary cigar, and smeared like that of a clown; his big belly stuffed with gunpowder. May 8 will, indeed, at last be recognised as the anniversary of the shame of England as much as of the misfortune of the ‘sister nation’, once hated, now adored with all the passion that accompanies a remorse that we know is useless. Perhaps these same Englishmen, and others, will publicly worship Adolf Hitler, the Saviour whom their ancestors of yesterday rejected and whom their ancestors of today—our contemporaries—still insult. Perhaps there will be, among the dwindling number of Aryans throughout the world, a militant minority, serene, almost happy in its unshakeable loyalty, who will worship him while waiting to become (they or their descendants) the bodyguard of the Avenger he hinted at, but was not: Kalki.

But all late repentance and retrospective devotions will remain ineffective, both in Europe and among the Aryan minorities in other countries, especially in an increasingly Jewless and negrified America. Nothing can save the youngest of humanity’s noble races from the fate that must befall it as a consequence of the crimes committed or tolerated by too many of its representatives, under the influence of an anthropocentrism of the wrong sort. These crimes will be followed by ‘return shocks’, slowly no doubt, but all the more irresistibly as those who committed or tolerated them were more responsible (or should have been) while being less detached, more focused on themselves and their narrow-minded notions, than on the Universe: the Cosmos and the essence of the Cosmos.

There are all kinds of crimes, the wages of which have been accumulating for millennia—crimes against all animal aristocracies, from mighty bison to graceful deer, from great cats to common cats, tigers in miniature; crimes against the massacred forest, against the impassive sea, sullied by all the filth of invading industry; crimes against all human aristocracies, especially against the Aryan race itself, against the Germans in Europe, against the purest Aryas in the Indies, in Asia, in the name of Christ or Christian ‘values’; in the name of Democracy or Marxism, always in the name of some faith or philosophy invented and spread by Jews.

____________

[1] There were no Jews in England from 1290, when King Edward I expelled them, until the middle of the 17th century when Cromwell, who owed their bankers enormous sums, recalled them.

Categories
Exterminationism Hate Kali Yuga Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) Welfare of animals

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 93

If there is an immanent Justice, it is to be wished that such people die of hunger and thirst, abandoned, disowned by all those in whose affection they believe, on some deserted island or at the bottom of a dungeon. They are sometimes punished in an unexpected way, such as the man and woman whose punishment was reported in the journal of the Société Protectrice des Animaux of Lyon, without publishing their names.

Parents of a six-year-old boy, they had, despite the child’s cries and pleas, pushed the dog out of the door of their car, which had devoted all its love to them, and then set off again at full speed, arrived at their holiday destination, settled into a hotel and fell asleep without remorse. But serene Justice was watching.

The next day, the two unworthy people found their only son dead, in a pool of blood he had cut his veins with his father’s Gillette. On the bedside table they found, written in his childish hand, a few words: his verdict against them and all those like them; something to remember day and night, for the rest of their lives: ‘Daddy and Mommy are monsters. I can’t live with monsters!’

This act of heroism by a very young child could not, alas, give the unfortunate beast back its lost home. But it has symbolic value. It proclaims, in its tragic simplicity, that in this world of the Dark Ages, almost at its end, where everything belongs to man, and where man belongs more and more to the Forces of the Abyss, it is better to die than to be born. It is similar, in its essence, to all the glorious suicides motivated by an intense disgust with the environment that was once respected if not admired, to the sudden revelation of one’s true vileness, for all vileness—especially all treason—is cowardice. It is similar to all similar acts of heroism—suicides or, sometimes, murders requiring even more despair than suicide—motivated by the awareness that the inevitable future, the consequence of the present, can only be hell.

I am thinking, in particular, of the words that the sublime Magda Goebbels addressed to the aviatrix Hanna Reitsch, a few days before giving her six children the poison that was to save them from the horror of the post-war period: ‘They believe in the Führer and the Reich’, she said. ‘When these are no more, they will have no place in the world. May Heaven give me the strength to kill them!’

In the world the Führer had dreamed of, cowardice—and especially cowardice on the part of people of the Aryan race—would have been unthinkable. The boy whose death I have recalled would have been at ease there, for he only wanted to live among people as noble as himself (and no doubt his ancestors). He would surely have felt, in the Defender of eternal values—like himself a friend of animals, and especially of dogs—a leader worthy of his total allegiance. But the last attempt at recovery had failed, fifteen years before his birth. The present world, the post-war world, was revealed to him in the person of his abominable parents.

Because it was not only those who believed and still believe in ‘the Führer and the Reich’ but all ‘good and brave’ characters, all Aryans worthy of the name, who had no place in it, and whom one meets there—as one might expect—less and less.

 

______ 卐 ______

 

Editor’s Note:

‘In this world of the Dark Ages, almost at its end, where everything belongs to man, and where man belongs more and more to the Forces of the Abyss…’

I couldn’t have said it better! We live in the darkest hour of the West, and we must pray that Mordor will soon be covered in lava after the ring is cast into the place it should never have come from.

https://youtu.be/x7_5BX5rzhw

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Kali Yuga Nature Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) Tree Welfare of animals

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 88

You, who are one of us—sons and fathers of the Strong and Beautiful—, look around you without prejudice and passion, and say what you see! From one end of the earth to the other, the strong are retreating before the weak, armed with ingenious malice; the beautiful, before the ungainly, the deformed, the ugly, armed with deception; the healthy, before the sick, armed with recipes for combat taken from the demons with whom they have made a pact. The giants give way to the dwarfs, holders of divine power usurped through sacrilegious research. You see all this more clearly than ever since the disaster of 1945.

But don’t think that this dates from 1945. Certainly not! The collapse of the Third German Reich and the persecution of the Religion of the Strong, which has been raging ever since, are but the consequence of a desperate struggle, as old as the fall of man and the end of the ‘Age of Truth’. They are the recent phases of a gradual and inexorable loss of ground, which has been going on for millennia, and is only more apparent since our fruitless effort to stop it.
 

______ 卐 ______

 

Editor’s note: As I said yesterday in the comments section, Savitri lived at a time when the real history of Christianity was still unknown. Had she known it, she wouldn’t have needed to dip into Hindu mythology to speculate about a purported decadence of many thousands of years old. Occam’s razor is applicable here, and we can point to Christian ethics, even in its secular form, as the inversion of values that in our day has culminated in the West’s darkest hour.

 

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Consider the trees. Among the Strong, they are the oldest. They are our elder brothers: old kings of Creation. For millions of years, they alone possessed the Earth. And how beautiful was the Earth in the time when, aside from some giant insects and the life born amidst the oceans, it nourished only them!

The Gods know what enthusiasm seized me, on my return to Germany in 1953, at the sight of the resurrected industries of the Ruhr basin! In every cloud of nitrogen peroxide that billowed in fiery volutes from the chimneys of rebuilt factories, I greeted a new and victorious challenge to the infamous Morgenthau plan. And yet… an image haunts and fascinates me: that of the Ruhr basin at the time when the future coal which, along with iron, makes it rich today, existed ‘in potential’ in the form of endless forests of tree ferns.

I think I can see them, these fifty-metre-high ferns, endlessly crowded together, competing in their strength in their push towards the light and the sun. It was night between their innumerable shafts, so thick was the evergreen ceiling of their entangled leaves: a humid night, heavy with the vapours arising from the warm blackish mud in which their roots were immersed; a night that the wind, blowing through the gigantic foliage, filled with a harmonious wailing, or that the torrential rains filled with a din. Everywhere one finds coal mines today such forests then extended.

But there is, for me, an even more nostalgic image. It is that of the forest of many species, populated by colourful birds, reptiles beautifully marked with brown, pale yellow, amber and ebony, and mammals of all kinds—especially felines: the most beautiful of all living creatures—, the forest of the hundreds of millennia before man appeared on our planet, and the forest of the time when man, few in number, was not yet the harmful beast he has become. The domain of trees was then almost everywhere. And it was also the domain of animals. It included the domain of the oldest and most beautiful civilisations. And man, to whom the dream of ‘dominating Nature’ and overturning its balance for his benefit would then have seemed absurd and sacrilegious, found his numerical inferiority normal. In one of his most suggestive poetic evocations of ancient India, Leconte de Lisle has one of his characters say:

I know the narrow, mysterious paths
That lead the river to the nearby mountains.
Large tigers, striped and prowling by the hundred… [1]

In the hot and humid forests of the Ganges (or Mekong) there were tigers, leopards and elephants. In the north of Asia and Europe, it was aurochs and wolves, by the thousands, by the millions. The first hunters—the first herders, rivals of the four-legged predators—certainly killed some of them, to keep the flesh of the domesticated herds for themselves. But from the boundless forest others emerged. The natural balance between the species had not yet been broken, nor was it to be broken for long. It was not until the forest, or the savannah, definitely retreated before man when ‘civilisation’ encroached on it without interruption.

For centuries, however, man was destined to remain confined to very small areas. In ancient times, in Egypt as well as in Assyria, Mesopotamia, Syria, North Africa and even in Southern Europe, lions were found within a few kilometres of cities. All the accounts of the ancients, from those reported in the Bible to those of the adventures of Androcles (how recent, in comparison!) bear witness to this. Unfortunately, these beasts were hunted, and there is abundant evidence of this in the written and sculpted testimonies. Personally, I have always been outraged when reading the inscription that relates the success of the young Amenhotep III, who supposedly killed ‘one hundred and four’ of these royal beasts in a single hunt. And the famous bas-reliefs in the Oxford Museum, which, with that frightening realism of which Assyrian art has the greatest secret, represent Assurnasirpal and his retinue piercing with arrows a whole army of lions—of which some, their backs broken, twist and seem literally to howl in pain—inspire me to nothing less than a burning hatred of man.

And yet… I must admit that, no more at the dawn of the 14th century than during the 9th before the Christian era, this primate had not yet become, on the scale on which it was soon to be, the scourge of the living world. It hunted, it is true, as did other predators. And it had the arrow which strikes from afar, instead of the honest claw and tooth, which only reach up close. But he didn’t exterminate whole species as it was destined to do later, and like no other beast of prey did.

The forest, the endless savannah, the desert—the space which he couldn’t occupy entirely, and in which he was not even able to make his presence felt in a more or less permanent way—remained the free, if not inviolate, domain of non-human life. No civilisation had yet monopolised for the benefit of ‘man’ all the territory on which it flourished. Egypt itself, whose people were by far the most prolific in antiquity, kept, in addition to its luxuriant palm groves, its fauna of lions, crocodiles and hippopotami. And, what is more, thanks to its theriomorphic representations of the divinity, and especially thanks to the pious love with which it surrounded certain animals—such as the innumerable cats, fed and pampered by the priestesses of the Goddess Bastet[2]—it maintained with this fauna a link of a more subtle and stronger order, comparable to the one that still exists today between the Hindu and the Cow, certain monkeys and certain snakes, among other symbolic animals.

It would have seemed to a superficial observer that, despite the hunting, the sacrifices, and the extensive use of wood in the construction of houses as well as ships, the animal species and the forest species could count on an indefinitely prosperous future.

However, even at that relatively early date, man had become ‘the only mammal whose numbers continue to increase’.[3] In other words, the balance that had been maintained for so long between all living species, including man, had been upset in favour of the latter for several centuries.
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[1] Leconte de Lisle, ‘Çunacépa’ (Poèmes Antiques).

[2] These cats were mummified after their death. Hundreds of thousands of them have been found in the necropolises where they had been deposited.

[3] ‘der einzige Säuger, der sich in ständiger Vermehrung befindet’ (Tier, 11th year, No. 5, page 44. Article ‘Die Uberbevölkerung droht als nahe Weltkatastrophe’).

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3-eyed crow Kali Yuga Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) Third Reich

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 83

The leaders who have led, or will lead, some phase of the eternal struggle ‘against Time’ after the limit point where a last great recovery would still have been possible—after what Virgil Ghéorghiou calls ‘the twenty-fifth hour’—, haven’t been able and won’t be able to leave behind them anything in this visible and tangible world, except a handful of clandestine disciples.

And these have, and will have, nothing to look forward to—except the coming of Kalki; or the Saoshyant of the Zoroastrians, the Maitreya Buddha of the Buddhists, the glorious fighting Christ as expected by the Christians at his ‘second coming’,[1] the Mahdi of the Mohammedans, the immortal Emperor of the Germans surging forth, armed, from his enigmatic Cave at the head of his avenging Knights. He who returns for the last time in our cycle has many names. But He is the same under all of them.

Now He is known by His action, that is, by His victory over all, followed by the dazzling dawn of the next cycle: the new Satya Yuga, or Age of Truth.

The defeat in this world of a Leader who fought against universal decadence, and therefore against the very meaning of Time, is enough to prove that this Leader, however great he may have been, was not Him. He may well have been Him in essence: the eternal Saviour, not of ‘man’ but of Life who ‘returns’ innumerable times. But he was certainly not Him, in the ultimate form in which He must reappear at the end of every cycle.

Adolf Hitler was not Kalki, though he was, essentially speaking, the same as the ancient Rama Chandra, or the historical Krishna, or Siegfried, or the Prophet Mohammed, the Leader of a true ‘holy war’ (i.e., of a ceaseless struggle against the Forces of disintegration; against the Forces of the abyss). He was, like every great Fighter against the current of Time, a Forerunner of Kalki. He was, still in essence, the Emperor of the Cave. With him the latter reappeared, intensely awake and in arms, as he had reappeared before in the person of various great German leaders, especially Frederick II of Prussia, whom Adolf Hitler so revered. But this was not his last and final reappearance in this cycle.

In both cases he had awakened to the sound of the distress of his people. Carried away by the enthusiasm of the action, he had, with his faithful barons, dashed a few steps out of the cave.

Then he returned to the shadows, the Omniscient Ravens having told him that it was, despite impressive signs, ‘not yet the time’.

Frederick II founded the Old Prussian Lodges, through which the more-than-human truth was to continue to be passed on to a few generations of initiates after him. Adolf Hitler left his admirable Testament, in which he too exhorts the best to keep their blood pure, to resist the invasion of error and lies—of the counter-Tradition—and to wait.

He knew that the ‘twenty-fifth hour’ had come, and long ago. At the age of sixteen, as I have already mentioned, he had a premonition of his own materially useless but necessary struggle.

As a German, as an Aryan, a man conscious of the excellence of the Aryan race, although he was an integral part of it, he was eager to defeat the world arrayed against him and his people. He was striving with all his strength, with all his genius, for the building of a superior and lasting society, a visible reflection of the cosmic order, the Reich of his dreams.

And he was striving against all hope, against all reason, in an inordinate effort to stop at all costs the levelling, the dumbing down, the disfigurement of the most beautiful and gifted variety of men; to prevent forever its reduction to the state of a mass without race and character. And he struggled, with all the bitterness of an artist, against the shameless destruction of the living and beautiful natural environment, in which he rightly saw an increasingly patent sign of the imminent victory of the Forces of disintegration.

His irrational confidence in an in extremis salvation using the ‘secret weapon’; his feverish expectation, under burning Berlin, of the entry into action of ‘General Wenck’s army’, which had long since ceased to exist, are reminiscent, in dramatic absurdity, whatever Christians may think, of Christ’s attitude in Gethsemane, praying that the chalice of suffering, which he had come to drink to the dregs, might be removed from his lips.

Adolf Hitler—since he was a combatant against Time, whose kingdom, if it belonged to the eternal, was also ‘of this world’—clung to the illusion of total victory and, despite everything, of an immediate recovery to the end. He clung to it, I repeat, as a German and as a man. As an insider, he knew that this was an illusion, that it was ‘too late’ already in 1920. He had seen it, on that extraordinary night on top of Freienberg in 1905. And the real leaders of the ‘Black Order’—in particular those of the Ahnenerbe, aware as he was of the inevitability of the cycle that was nearing its end—were already preparing, before 1945, the clandestine survival of the essential, beyond the collapse of National Socialist Germany.

And we who follow them and him also know that there will never be a Hitlerian civilisation.

No, hope no more to see us again,
Sacred walls that could not preserve my Hector.

I remember this verse that Racine puts in the mouth of Andromache, in scene IV of the first act of his tragedy of that name. And I think that the grandiose parades to the rhythm of the Horst Wessel Lied, under the folds of the red, white and black swastika standard, and all that glory that was the Third German Reich, the nucleus of a pan-Aryan Empire, are as irrevocably past as the splendours of prestigious Troy; as ‘past’ and as immortal, because one day Legend will recreate them, when epic poetry is again a collective need.

He who returns from age to age, both destroyer and preserver, will appear again at the very end of your cycle, to open to the best the Golden Age of the next cycle. As I have recalled in these pages, Adolf Hitler was waiting for it. He said to Hans Grimm in 1928: ‘I know that I am not the One who is to come’, that is, the last and only fully victorious Man against Time of our cycle. ‘I only take on the most urgent task of preparation (die dringlichste Vorarbeit), for there is no one to do it’.

One incommensurably harder than he will accomplish the final task—the task of rectification—on the ruins of a humanity that believed all was permitted because it is endowed with a brain capable of calculations, and which largely deserved its fall and its loss.

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[1] The Deuteria Parousia spoken of by the Greek Orthodox Church.