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Kali Yuga Miscegenation

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (6)

Vienna

29th and 30th April

When I got off the bus in Vienna on the Ringstrasse, what caught my attention next to the multitude of historic buildings was the Vienna State Opera because it was the theatre where the teenage Adolf used to enter despite his meagre resources. I took several pictures of it but I chose this one:

In a 21st century Reich under the leaders who would have followed a Hitler who would have died a very old, natural death, say in 1987, there would be no non-Aryans in this area. Not even the non-Aryan tourists I saw en masse here.

I sat in a café on a pedestrian street close to the Opera House to watch the pedestrians calmly having a coffee and a slice of cake (Austria is expensive, I paid 17.4 €). I noticed that, among the white people passing by, the race was better than the ones I had seen the previous couple of days.

Recall that Austria is the homeland of Hitler, whose Aryans rank among the highest in the European IQ. Alas, it wasn’t long before I saw, holding hands, the first mixed couple: an Aryan male and a woman who was either Muslim or Indian. If Putin weren’t celebrating his victory these days, it would have been inconceivable to see so many non-whites in this sacred area! From my vantage point I spent about an hour and a half watching the people pass by. Eventually another mixed couple sat behind me. This time I didn’t hold back and took a picture of them from behind me, so my shoulder is visible:

If the contemporary Austrian were not an iniquitous person, it would be legal to execute this couple on the spot but, as we know, besides the Russians the Anglo-Saxons won the war. Recall that, because of Christian ethics, the United States began to repudiate anti-miscegenation laws long before the Jews took over its media: historical facts that American racialists ignore because they debunk their Judeo-reductionist paradigm.[1]

However, it isn’t clear, about the two mixed couples I saw, that they have already sinned against the holy spirit of life (once a mongrel baby is conceived, the sin can no longer be forgiven and the whole family would have to be sent to Auschwitz II).

Not long after I saw the third mixed couple pass by, but I didn’t have time to take a picture of them. The lack of real hatred among white nationalists is what I can’t stand—except Pierce, who dedicated one of his novels to a serial killer of mixed couples. (In conquered Austria these poor devils don’t have a First Amendment; a book like Pierce’s could never be published here!).

If I write harsh things in this entry it is because where I sat, so close to the elegant theatre that the teenage Adolf visited, would be hallowed ground in a world where the good guys would have won. It is a real sacrilege the sight of so many coloureds here.

However, I did get to see two women who could perfectly well have modelled Maxfield Parrish for one of his ‘nymphs on the rocks’ paintings. I also felt very good when a white woman passed by carrying her white baby on her chest. This reminds me of something I omitted when I visited Berlin’s Jewish Quarter: a very touristy place. I saw an Aryan couple with a couple of small children with pinkish-white skin and the most Scandinavian hair one could imagine: a very comforting moment for me, one of the very few good moments of the trip! But the number of non-whites I saw in Vienna never ceased to amaze me, even if it was impossible to tell who were tourists and who were residents.

Before taking the bus to my hotel, I made enquiries at the Vienna State Opera, which was showing Lohengrin in a couple of days. A pity, as I had scheduled that day to go to Munich. I entertained the idea of changing my plans but I was a slave to the day I was already scheduled in Frankfurt to return to the American continent. I still wanted to change my plans but I remembered what, a decade earlier, had happened to me at Shakespeare’s Globe in London: they put on black actors. Would the Germans do a similar sacrilege with Lohengrin, whose lavish 1936 production delighted Hitler?

So I didn’t change my plans and headed back to my hotel. I was struck by the graffiti on the other side of the street: inconceivable if patriotic Austrians and Germans had prevailed in the war. After some rest, instead of seeing Wagner’s grandiose opera in a couple of days, I went more modestly to Schönbrunn Palace to listen to some waltzes. Before entering the palace I spent some time in the very beautiful and well-kept palace gardens (all this will disappear, of course, when the Austrian Aryan disappears).

I would like to add something about these beautiful palace gardens. It hurts to see young women, beautiful Aryan women, walking alone there. They should be married, walking with their husbands and with children as beautiful as they are. But this is the world bequeathed to us by the individualistic liberalism imposed by the American Diktat. Then I left the gardens and headed for the concert hall.

I took this picture before the performance because, once the concert started, we were no longer allowed to photograph them. My fears about Lohengrin might have been well-founded! During the waltzes a duo appeared: a good-looking Aryan male and the Nigerian-born but Austrian-educated soprano, Bibiana Nwobilo. In several waltzes they embraced and the singer even kissed the hand of this female with her afro hair….

I never applauded the pieces in which the Nigerian sang, despite her excellent voice. What shocked me was that there were Viennese older than me: Aryans whose parents may have fought for Hitler, but they applauded with pleasure. If these guys had any vestige of Lebenskraft left, they simply wouldn’t attend any concert starring non-Aryans. All these people are victims of what I call the ‘ogre of the superego’: the perennial anti-Nazi propaganda that goes to the core of the Austrian soul with the same virulence that Monica’s frequent harangues struck young Augustine. The infinite power over the normies of the omnipresent propaganda that reigns in these lands never ceases to amaze me…

The next day I continued sightseeing in Vienna.

To the humiliation of German speakers, here is another monument commemorating the Russian fallen in the Second World War. Kenneth Clark was right: to understand a culture, look at its architecture, including monuments, for there is nothing even remotely commemorating the German or Austrian heroes who fell in that war, or even their children. The millions of men, women and children killed by the Allies are worth zero. By contrast, in the zeitgeist at work, the Jewish victims have infinite value. The fact that urban guerrillas have not dynamited these monuments speaks of the ubiquity of zero Lebenskraft in the collective Aryan unconscious. The System has them controlled by pleasure, as Kerry Bolton saw so well about the degenerate Westerner, and Vienna has a very high standard of living.

I passed the avenue where, before WW2, the richest Jews lived, where we see an equestrian statue of an Austrian who fought against Napoleon. The opera house where Lohengrin was to be performed the next day was badly damaged by Allied bombing. Not far from there we can see statues of Goethe and Mozart; it is also a museum area. Further on we see the Parliament and it is refreshing to see the statue of Pallas Athena. But not far from there the Vienna quack (Freud) had his favourite café! Beethoven lived in Vienna for a while and in this theatre they premiered the Eroica Symphony, which made a tremendous impact on the pubescent boy I was decades ago:

Due to flooding, the Danube was divided into parts in Vienna. On the Danube Canal, an area that had also been badly damaged by gringo bombs in WW2, I saw an LGBT flag (the antithesis of the Nazi flag). It reminded me of the Ukrainian flags I had seen in government offices in Berlin.

Then I visited the so-called District II, a very large neighbourhood where Vienna’s Jews live. The district had been founded by Leopold I in the 17th century: the third largest community of European Jews after the districts of Warsaw and Budapest. The National Socialists weren’t like the Christian Leopold: they destroyed all sixty existing synagogues. This had been the area where Johann Strauss, the composer of The Blue Danube, lived: a sort of anthem of Austria that was also my love since 1968, when I was ten years old, thanks to Karl Böhm’s superb conduction.

Not far away is the huge church of Francis of Assisi. Christian ethics affects not only whites but also mestizos on the other side of the Atlantic. Mexico was the only country to protest when Hitler annexed Austria to his Reich. Even before that, the Austro-Hungarian empire was huge and its capital was Vienna, a far cry from the times of the lobotomised eunuchs I saw on this trip. In fact, a century ago Vienna was the third largest city in Europe, after London and Paris.
 

The Jew’s trip

There are several anti-Nazi monuments in Austria. On this day my tour guide also had a Scandinavian name, Ulrique, a woman:

Like Björn in Dresden, Ulrique repeated the talking points of the anti-Nazi regime. While my intention in Berlin and Dresden had been to discuss with Aryan males, on a paid tour it is impossible to do so: one simply has to follow the guide like a sheep wherever she leads us. When Ulrique said things that obfuscated me by pointing out what this monument to the victims of the Jewish holocaust meant, I took my camera up to the sky to photograph it. Because I was looking up I didn’t notice another monument on the ground: a monument dedicated to the Jews who, after the annexation of Austria, were humiliated by the state by being forced to clean the floors of Vienna’s streets.

The Jewish statue acted as a tripwire while I was photographing the other monument and I took a tremendous tumble! In the seconds after the fall I even thought that the blow had wiped out all the photos of my cell-phone I have been posting in this series! Ten days after the event, my left leg still bears the imprint of the bruise that resulted from the blow that even hit my left cheekbone on the concrete when I fell!

A Spanish woman came to pick up my notes where I wrote about my experiences in Vienna. I got up ashamed for not having seen the kneeling Jew ‘cleaning’ the street. Then, still following this tour of the anti-Nazi Ulrique, we entered the palace and museum of the Empress of Austria Elisabeth of Bavaria (‘Sissi’): a woman who took cocaine, of whom I don’t want to say much more except that her biography proves that, after Uncle Adolf, the monarchical system seems to us pure stupidity; and that only a racist dictator has the right to absolute power.

Leaving the museum of this emperor’s wife, I came upon the centre of Austria’s political power; that is, those who give licence to guides like Ulrique to say things that greatly obfuscate dissidents like yours truly. I was at the centre of Austria’s anti-Aryan regime that gradually exterminates its people through miscegenation—not exactly Hitler’s dream during the Anschluss…!

The neurotic Sissi, whose favourite poet was the Jew Heinrich Heine, is adored even in Hungary. Tell me who you adore and I will tell you who you are. Tell me who you hate and I will tell you who you are. No wonder Europeans are the way they are with such philias and phobias. Then I went alone to the busy pedestrian street near the Opera House that young Adolf was visiting to look, once again, at the people crossing it.

I have the impression that they are all white trash. Not in a genetic sense but in a moral sense. To paraphrase Eduardo Velasco, the contemporary European knows neither pain, nor honour, nor blood, nor war, nor sacrifice, nor comradeship, nor respect, nor combat; and therefore he doesn’t know the ancient Goddesses: Glory and Victory. I see zero nobility in the contemporary European. Zero courage. Zero honesty or curiosity to discover the true history of the Second World War.

It irritated me to see young women of childbearing age in the pedestrian street, stupefied with their mobile phones, walking and leading a life of their own instead of being, as in the beautiful Vienna era, showing off their husbands and children. Let there be no doubt: the Western lifestyle of our century is pure, straightforward ethnic suicide.

Demoralised at that sight, as well as the huge number of non-whites and whites fraternising with them, I took refuge on a park bench in front of a beautiful tree.

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[1] That American racialists see the speck in the other’s eye and not the log in their own is evident in these facts:

1688: Four Quakers sign antislavery petition in Germantown, Pennsylvania.

1770s: Denial of negro mental inferiority becoming common place in antislavery circles. Benjamin Franklin thought Negroes ‘not deficient in natural understanding’, though Alexander Hamilton seemed less certain when he remakred that ‘their natural faculties are perhaps probably as good as ours’.

1775-1783: Negro soldiers participate in virtually every major military action of the American Revolution.

1780: Pennsylvania adopts a gradual ‘emancipation law’. In this context, emancipation was any effort to procure economic, social or political rights/equality to Negroes.

1785: The New York assembly passes a gradual emancipation bill which would have barred Negroes from the ‘polls’ (voting in today’s vocabulary) and from marrying whites, but the state senate objected to the intermarriage clause because ‘in so important a connection they thought the free subjects of this State ought to be left to their free choice’.

1851: New Iowa constitution omits its anti-miscegenation clause.

1871: Mississippi outlawed anti-miscegenation (State Code).

Categories
Christendom Monarchy

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (5)

Budapest

27th and 28th April

Before arriving in Budapest the bus made a stop where I got off and touched the trunks of three beautiful trees with the palm of my hand. I felt like I was in paradise with that vegetation. I said to myself that I belonged in these latitudes: far away from the ‘Neanderthalesque’ tropical vegetation of the village where I now live.

The architectural beauty of Budapest impressed me much more than that of Prague, especially the views on both sides of the Danube on a cruise I took at night, from where I could see all the illuminated buildings and palaces, and where I had a glass of red wine. I had never seen so much architectural beauty except many years ago when I visited Venice. But as I explained in my previous post, we are not here to talk about the good things in Europe but the bad things, so I won’t add as many pictures of the beautiful capital of Hungary as I did of the Czech capital.

I stayed in a hotel on the Pest side of the Danube, and then toured its boulevards, Opera House, Parliament, Synagogue and St Stephen’s Basilica. In the afternoon I went to the Buda side of the city, and climbed Castle Hill with its magnificent views. But let’s take it one step at a time.

Arriving in Budapest I was surprised not to see any street posters of niggers on the streets, which I had seen in Germany and the Czech Republic (not to mention my previous trips to English-speaking countries!). Hungarians may be Christian, but it is atheistic hyper-Christianity that accelerates the Aryan self-hatred. As I arrived late in the evening, I went to the outskirts of the big city to a restaurant in the middle of the forest where they served traditional Hungarian food.

The next day, the first thing I visited was one of the most important places in the city, Heroes’ Square.

I was struck by the fourth king if we count the kings from the left. He was the father of St Elizabeth, a woman whose compassion for the dispossessed was a Christian preamble to the out-group neochristian altruism that the West suffers from today. St Elisabeth of Hungary is also venerated in German-speaking countries. The sculpture of the father of this woman revered by Hungarians, Austrians and Germans holds in his hands a document, the Golden Bull, which was the nation’s first written constitution (the one on the right was another king who also had another ‘saintly’ daughter).

The first sculpture depicts Stephen I of Hungary (997-1038), who brought Christian infection to this land, a religion whose Apostle didn’t distinguish between Aryan, Jew and sandnigger.

On this trip, which included the people of Budapest, I corroborated much of what I said about white trash from Himmler’s and my POV. The Nordic race is the paradigm of the Aryan. In other words, architectural art may be the frame of the West, but pure Nordic or English DNA is its canvas. A splendid frame with a bad canvas may have artistic value, but it doesn’t move us to sacrifice our lives for the cause.

Here we see the coronation of Franz Joseph. In a world where the Aryan, not the Jewish archetype reigned, no king would be seen kneeling before a Judeo-Christian bishop.

The Danube, which divides Budapest in twain, is one of the most important rivers in Europe. It flows through ten countries, including Germany, and empties into the Black Sea. Churchill urinated in the Danube in 1945. If the good guys had won the war, these days it wouldn’t be the Russians celebrating victory but the Germans. But the pungent smell of Churchill’s urine still permeates the masses of white trash I have seen on this trip. So trashy are today’s whites that they made a monument, beside the Danube, to the Jews shot not by the Nazis but by the JQ-conscious Hungarians.

It is said that there were twenty thousand, but when they ran out of bullets they started using ropes to kill the first Jew and throw him into the then freezing Danube to drag the others tied up. The monument is called the ‘shoe zone’.

I even heard one of the many tour guides use the word ‘holocaust’ when referring to the event.

This Christ appears outside St Stephen’s Basilica in Budapest. I repeat: to cure the white man of his false guilt, his Judeo-Christian monuments must be torn down. That will be Kalki’s revenge for what the Christians did to the Greco-Roman temples.

This monument I visited, ‘Liberators of Budapest’, which honours the Soviet soldiers in the 1945 battle, is in front of the American embassy and shows how, despite Hungarians commemorating the patriots of 1956, the anti-Nazi narrative is never questioned. No, Viktor Orbán is not one of us. Look at this other monument he had built, not far from the one the Soviets put up:

Orbán’s monument is dedicated to the ‘victims of the German invasion’, when in fact the government gladly collaborated with the Nazis. The eagle represents the Third Reich and, the archangel below, Hungary: a falsification of history because, as I have just said, it was the JQ-conscious Hungarians who perpetrated their little holocaust.

Here, below Orbán’s monument, we see the Jewish victims. When I took this picture I was no longer by the Danube but in the park near the American embassy.

Originally the Hungarians refused to be Christianised. Gerard of Csanád was the first bishop to preach in the city. Like the Jews who almost a millennium later were thrown into the Danube, those aware of the CQ put Gerard in a barrel and threw him into the Danube in 1046. This was a time when the aforementioned Stephen I wanted to convert his people to the worship of the Jewish god. Now the Hungarians worship St Gerard and a hill beside the Danube in Budapest is named after him.

As always, if the Aryan is to be saved, all these ‘holy place’ names will have to be changed. In fact, throwing the first bishop of Budapest into the Danube in a barrel would now have to be done with the new bishop of Rome, who belongs to the most progressive wing of the Vatican, if we want to preserve the DNA of pure Aryanism. See for example this aberration I saw inside the church at the corner of the hotel where I was staying: a mongrel recreation of the best-known painting of St Francis of Assisi.

It is the command to love the enemy, a la St Francis, that is screwing the minds of these Catholics. When Bela IV reigned there were only a handful of survivors left after the Khan’s invasion. But the city doesn’t preach hatred of the Mongols. They should hate them and also the Allies who bombed Budapest in WW2. It is worth mentioning that on that day I also passed by the elegant mansion where Orbán has his residence. Curiously, the word ‘Karmelita’ appears there after the order of the Discalced Carmelite nuns.

Categories
Aryan beauty Heinrich Himmler

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (4)

Bratislava

27th April

En route to Budapest I made a stop to visit the beautiful capital of Slovakia, a city bathed by the Danube, to explore its small streets.

But it is the beauty of the Aryan race that moves me to blog. In the studio where I work you can see some framed pictures I took from Parrish’s poster book (here and here), where we see perfect nymphs. In Parrish’s book we can also see ephebes, like these in the first illustration of the book, although I didn’t frame that image.

In Bratislava I made a disturbing find.

Since only the most beautiful specimens of the Aryan race are my inspiration, I couldn’t fight for the whites I saw in the Slovak Republic capital. I even saw a short woman walking next to a black man. Unlike the nymph I saw in Prague who was kissed by a gook, a female specimen who might as well have modelled for Parrish, the spectacle of the short woman in Bratislava didn’t bother me at all: her face was ugly, like most of the whites I saw there.

Another thing that surprised me was that the white men in Bratislava were shorter in stature than I was. In my soliloquies I re-evaluated the years I spent in the UK and the US, where I got to see women as beautiful as the paintings that now adorn the walls of my studio.

In my notebook I wrote: ‘For this race I wouldn’t fight, only for the perfect nymphs I have seen in regions much less mixed with non-Aryans. What a gulf with Catalina and Carmen!’[1] And I thought of the Norwegian actress Marta Kristen from Lost in Space, who had been born in one of Himmler’s human farms to breed a perfect race. I also wrote in the notebook I had bought in Prague: ‘These are the kind of purebred creatures who should now be living in all the parts of Europe I have visited, instead of these third-rate Europeans who evoke spaghetti Westerns’. And added: ‘I greatly despise white nationalists because, given their Christian/neochristian programming—egalitarianism among whites—they are incapable of making these distinctions. Himmler wasn’t of this perfect prototype, but he was noble enough to recognise it and to seek out, among the Nordics, the prototype’.

Then I sat down on a street famous for its trees to look at the faces of the people passing by. After a while I realised that I was next to the American embassy!

______________

[1] I talk about Catalina and Carmen in Lágrimas, the third book of my autobiography.

Categories
Art Justice / revenge Kalki

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (3)

Prague

25 and 26 April

On this trip, Prague in the Czech Republic was the first city whose beauty struck me.

I arrived at night and saw the thirty statues on the Charles Bridge. Even in the freezing winter there are people on this famous bridge! All the statues, without exception, are either of the so-called ‘holy family’ or of Catholic ‘saints’. That night I photographed only one:

Very artistic indeed, but it is degenerate art because it is Christian propaganda. In fact, what I said about destroying the rebuilt Lutheran cathedral in Dresden applies also to Catholic art in Prague. All that will have to be destroyed by Kalki (see for example pages 132-140 in On Exterminationism which Savitri Devi wrote in 1956).

Taking such drastic measures is noticeable even in the new pope, a Chicago-born mongrel. Dedicated to the order of St Augustine, before he was Leo XIV he had criticised Trump’s anti-immigration policies. Or do Catholic racialists think it has nothing to do with their religion that the hotel I stayed at in Prague had blacks in the lobby? Are they so dishonest as to claim that it doesn’t affect the Czech collective unconscious to see their pope kissing the feet of a black migrant? Francis I wasn’t hypnotised by Jews: he was inspired by Francis of Assisi, who kissed lepers. I have said it a thousand times and it bears repeating: white nationalists are profoundly dishonest people, intellectual cowards who do not want to see what is right under their noses.

In the light of the next day I walked around the Old Square and saw the great church of ‘Our Lady of Tyn’, and then went to the Astronomical Clock that has been in operation since 1410, whose main attraction is the animated figures of the twelve apostles that come out at noon—twelve ethnic Jews! Then I visited Prague Castle, a citadel containing St Vitus Cathedral, St George’s Basilica and the Golden Alley. I had to buy a notebook because my notes began to pile up from what I was writing on loose papers during the trip.

The notebook on which this series is based!

I never imagined that a purely sightseeing trip would be riddled with devastating observations and anecdotes about the lobotomised eunuchs—the male Europeans of whom I have already spoken on this site, including the Czechs. I say eunuchs because there are now a lot of sandniggers inhabiting the Czech Republic.

In the centre of the old part of town I saw a strange sculpture, The Butterfly, dedicated to the two Czech ‘heroes’ who murdered Heydrich.

It seems obvious to me that in addition to tearing down all the statues, churches and religious monuments in Prague, a Temple in honour to Heydrich should be put in their place where Aryan culture is taught.

We don’t need a new religion like the Abrahamic ones, only to be aware of our pre-Christian cultures: a project that had already started in Himmler’s mystical castles. We must reclaim those cultures to educate our children according to the varied heritage represented by the Edda, the Mabinogion, Homer and Virgil. We must draw from that rich heritage, and the moral maxims of a good Roman like Cicero. We also need temples, and enclosures for reconnection with the heroes of National Socialism. A perennial fire in these spaces will be most inspiring! We need places where we can gather and remember the story of the white race told by William Pierce, and the after-dinner talks of Uncle Adolf. Remember: it’s all about the story we are telling us!

Back to my visit to old Prague. I visited again the Astronomical Clock but couldn’t enter the cathedral because just that day a mass was being celebrated for the funeral of Pope Francis I, and it was crowded. In Prague’s famous Jewish Quarter I saw the largest synagogue in medieval Europe, dating from 1270, and passed the rabbi’s house in the most expensive part of the city. The sculptures on Charles Bridge that I had seen at night I was able to see in full daylight and photographed them (in this series I only reproduce a small fraction of the photos I took).

When among the myriad of tourists I saw a good-looking Aryan with a pram and his gook wife, I wrote down that he was just the sort of people to be executed—Aryan male, mongrel child and wife—during what Pierce called ‘The Day of the Rope’. Also at the entrance to the Castle there was an army of tourists, and there I saw another pure Aryan with his Indian wife, carrying a half-breed baby: what I have been calling the sin against the holy spirit of life.

Here is my shock therapy to cure Europeans of such ethnosuicidal barbarities. It took the Czechs six hundred years to build Prague Cathedral. Kalki would destroy it in a single second with a few-kiloton atomic bomb, like the one used at Nagasaki. When the time came that I took out this foto—:

—I thought: ‘This must have remained part of the Third Reich. Hitler was right to take over Czechoslovakia’. Inside the castle I saw an oil painting of the idiot Joseph II of Habsburg, Marie Antoinette’s brother, who emancipated the Jews not because of kike propaganda but because he was a good Christian (Jewry hadn’t yet taken over the media).

Then I went downstairs and saw the Archbishop’s Palace with black flags for the death of the pope who, literally, kissed the feet of the invading niggers. The archbishop lives in that building.

What bothered me the most was something that happened at 3:15 pm.

In the middle of the crowd, a gook kissed his girlfriend: an Aryan nymph, the kind that even the SS would boast about in their propaganda booklets. This happened on the most popular square in the old part of Prague. In a truly civilised world, this would merit the death penalty for the gook, and the gift of that spoiled brat to a good Aryan soldier for his military services. What is the point of so much architectural, pictorial and sculptural beauty if the race that created it is now perpetrating ethnic suicide?

According to the white nationalist myth, the Jews hypnotised the Gentiles with their media and academic propaganda, supported by their financial power. In reality, I thought among the throng of tourists, it is the people who are screwed. The elites just take advantage of these masses which reminds me of the experiment of putting electrodes on rats’ brains pleasure centre. The animals push a button, like neurologically masturbating, to such a degree that they forget to even eat.

Similarly, all these tourists are degenerated by pleasure. In my notebook I wrote: ‘It is the Aryan people, along with the elites of course, that must be punished with the fury of Kalki: a Himmler to the nth power’.

Categories
Kali Yuga Kalki

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (2)

Dresden
25 April

One would think that, if political correctness reigns in Berlin, at least in Dresden, the archetypal object of the fury of the Hellstorm Holocaust where whole families of Germans were incinerated, the locals would be more conscious. But in my brief stay in the city the diametrically opposite was true…

Arriving in the former capital of Saxony, on the banks of the Elbe River, the capital of Germanic culture and considered the most beautiful city in eastern Germany, the bells of the huge Lutheran church, now completely rebuilt, were ringing. I was annoyed that the Germans had rebuilt the Frauenkirche between 1994 and 2005 because it was precisely this reforming monk, Luther, who had introduced the Old Testament into the Aryan collective unconscious.

What struck me about the central square was a great secular contrast to the church of the former Augustinian monk: the Semper Opera House, partially destroyed in 1945 until it was painstakingly rebuilt in 1986. (Before its destruction, some of Germany’s greatest operas had been performed here, three by Richard Wagner and most of Richard Strauss.) I was struck by the bronze statue above the portico depicting Dionysus and Ariadne on a chariot of panthers—pre-Christian culture! Next to the entrance we can make out the sculptures of Goethe and Schiller in this photo I took:

There were several tours in the central square. The one I followed was led by a native German with a Scandinavian name, Björn, who spoke good Spanish, having married a Galician. As I recall, we started from the equestrian sculpture in the centre of the square.

I said above that the opposite of what I expected happened to me, in the sense that one would expect a resident of Dresden to have, at least, some awareness of Allied evil during the Hellstorm fire.

When, together with the tour group, I brought up the recent Israeli bombing of Gaza and compared it to Dresden in 1945, Björn blushed greatly! So much so that he felt compelled to launch into a little pious speech pointing out that, after the Holocaust, the German government was very sensitive about the Jewish issue. His behaviour reminded me of those who equate criticism of Israel with anti-Semitism. Björn merely repeated the talking points of his country’s political correctness instead of answering what I said: that in 1945 Dresden was left as Gaza was recently (actually much worse, given the number of German civilians holocausted by the bombings).

It is worth analysing why Björn got so freaked out by such a seemingly innocent remark.

In my recent essay on Augustine, Goethe and others, I talked about how Augustine’s devouring mother instilled in her adolescent son an evil introject that made him feel tremendously guilty about his nascent erotic impulses. Well, well… An evil introject can also be instilled by the persistent propaganda of a powerful state, especially if the propaganda is repeated over several generations. For the Greeks and Romans sexuality wasn’t sinful. That changed after the reigns of Constantine and the Christian emperors. Remember Nietzsche, Christianity gave Eros poison to drink; he did not die but degenerated into vice.

Similarly, for eighty years Western governments and the Jewish media apparatus (including Hollywood) have made us see the Third Reich as the new Satan, and almost all of us in the West internalised the propaganda, to some extent, at some point in our lives. But in Germany the hammering of such propaganda has been as insidious as Monica’s constant haranguing of young Augustine to become a champion of Constantine’s religion. In my essay I called this an ‘ogre of the superego’.

Our guide in Dresden, Björn, also suffers from an ogre of the superego, which in Christendom is equivalent to Augustine’s ogre of the superego about Eros. And yet Björn told us a story of incredible betrayal by the German government: the relatively recent theft from a museum we visited of pieces worth millions of euros. The sandniggers who stole them will soon go free—and rich! (they only returned half of what they stole).

This anecdote that the poor devil Björn told us, his Aryan pride crushed by an ogre of the superego, reflects the anti-Nazi Germany of our times: we must love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Good neochristians! The unconscious ogre that inhabits Björn was also noted in the fact that some sources on the attack on Dresden put the death toll between three and four hundred thousand. Björn, an ethnic German living in the city, said that only 25,000 had died and that the rest was ‘Nazi propaganda’.

At the end of his tour of Dresden’s now reconstructed buildings, I asked Björn what had haunted me in Berlin: If there is an equivalent of pubs in Germany, where I could approach perfect strangers in Dresden—native Germans—to talk to them about important matters. His answer, or rather non-answer, surprised me a lot!

He simply told me that he had to give another tour and that he had no more time. But answering such a simple question—remember what the woman in the hotel lobby in Berlin told me—wouldn’t have taken more than a few seconds. So I was left wanting to talk to Aryan men in the second German city I visited after an answer that wasn’t an answer at all.

In a sense I understand Björn. One can imagine asking a question about the Gulag to a Russian tour guide in Brezhnev’s time. But in his case I got the strong impression that Björn had internalised with extraordinary ferocity the narrative the government tells its citizens (as Augustine fiercely internalised the anti-erotic injunctions of his ultra-Christian mother).

After Björn said goodbye it was a little chilly and I took refuge in a café with large shop windows to watch the passers-by. Although many were tourists visiting Dresden, I guess there were also Germans among them. It seemed to me that these white people were shabby, like in spaghetti westerns where you don’t get good-looking actors like Hollywood actors. They were very different from the 1930s Berlin video I linked in my previous post, and I was also surprised to see that many of them were walking around eating ice cream. For about an hour I watched them from the vantage point of my cafe with the large display cases (I wasn’t wearing a jacket for the cold because the weather in Berlin had been warmer).

The saddest thing of all is that, to save the Aryan from his current psychosis—being utterly possessed by the Jewish collective unconscious—it will be necessary for someone like Kalki to destroy the rebuilt Frauenkirche again…

Categories
Berlin Kali Yuga Miscegenation

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (1)

So disturbing was what I saw in Europe on my recent trip that I will radicalise my already radical POV even more. On 22 April I left for Germany and on 4 May I returned to my home country. The cities I visited were:

  • Berlin
  • Dresden
  • Prague
  • Bratislava
  • Budapest
  • Vienna
  • Hallstatt
  • Salzburg
  • Munich
  • Dachau and
  • Frankfurt

I chose some beautiful towns and the former imperial cities, when the Aryan had not lost his manhood.
 

Berlin

When I arrived at my hotel in Berlin at night, I was ecstatic with soliloquies as if I were in a mythical city: the city that had been Hitler’s seat of power, that was to rule Europe in a new Germania. But already from the outskirts of my hotel, as I looked for a restaurant to dine in, I was greatly surprised by the masses of non-whites. In fact, I was so disappointed by this area that I locked myself in the hotel from 9 pm onwards and didn’t want to go out.

The next day the first thing I visited was the Berlin Wall and the Brandenburg Gate. All the photos in this series were taken with my mobile phone. The following picture could have been taken in Berlin in which Hitler would have been victorious, but I had to turn the camera up so that the non-whites wouldn’t dirty the image.

Travelling by bus, I passed the avenues where the offices of the Third Reich had been: the Parliament and the Reichstag. Then I would visit Potsdamer Platz, Alexanderplatz and Kurfusterdamn Avenue: all crowded with non-whites, though it was impossible to tell who were residents and who were tourists. Also, from the bus, I saw the cement-block sculpture space considered a memorial to the Jewish holocaust—but of the Hellstorm Holocaust, committed on the German people, there is absolutely nothing! Also inside the bus I saw the headquarters of the anti-white government that currently rules the brainwashed Germans. (If I moved to Berlin, they would soon trace my IP and break down the door of my house to arrest me, as the thoughtpolice did to our friend Tyrone Joseph Walsh in London.)

It is worth noting that, of the Third Reich offices, because of the Allied bombing only the Luftwaffe building remained (which after the war the new regime converted into the offices of the treasury to collect taxes). You can still see corners of other buildings bearing the scars of the virulent battle of Berlin in 1945, when the Red Army arrived:

Or this close-up:

In a capital that aspired to be Judenfrei in the last century, I couldn’t resist visiting the Jewish Quarter. It was there that I began to realise that anti-Nazi propaganda is still running amok eighty years after 1945, and will apparently continue until the last Aryan is extinct (that seems to be the Zeitgeist in Germany today). Indeed, this trip to continental Europe wasn’t a journey of pleasure but a journey of sorrow. My shock is appreciated by the sight of a healthy Berlin in this remastered video from the 1930s. In the Jewish Quarter I saw a sculpture depicting several women who were deported during the Third Reich.

What’s worse: Berlin started the practice of putting golden plaques in the concrete of the streets near the houses of Jews deported to extermination camps. The practice then spread to other countries, always commemorating the names of the disappeared Jews. Here we see some of them under my feet:

It seems as if the central commandment in 21st century Germany is something like ‘You shall love your fellow Jew and the sandniggers who have invaded your Fatherland, but never your own kind’. Look for example at this synagogue whose photo I took and compare it with the times when Berlin’s synagogues were destroyed.

When I was at the famous square not far from the Lutheran Cathedral, where places to eat both inside restaurants and outdoors swarm, I searched in vain for something similar to pubs to talk to perfect strangers and educate them. It was only in the evening that a German woman in the hotel lobby explained to me that Germany is not like England: you need to belong to a club to approach strangers. My very strong desire to talk to Aryan males and reveal that their government has been lying to them by omission (the Hellstorm Holocaust) was frustrated, and it was in that square that I photographed this aberration:

I must say that, unlike the white nationalists, I don’t just blame the Jews. Before my flight to Europe I spent a night at the Hilton in Mexico City airport. It was there that I learned about the death of Pope Francis I. On TV I saw a commentator speaking in Spanish, who confessed that what he liked most about his pontificate was that Francis I had promoted open doors to mass migration in Italy.

That is worse than the Jewish-controlled media because the Vatican is a Western institution. The betrayal goes centuries before Vatican II (think of the continent-wide mixed marriages that a pope sanctioned from the 1530s for the Iberian-conquered New World). That was a preamble to what we now see all over Europe, and the more ‘white nationalists’ stubbornly refuse to see something so obvious, the more difficult it will be to rework a salvific NS ideology that differs from 20th century NS in its full awareness of the Christian Question (CQ).

Back at the hotel, around 3 am, I took a diazepam pill! It had been about two decades since I had taken one of those tablets to help me sleep. My experience in Berlin—I had seen some mixed couples in the Führer’s former capital—had left me shaken and I woke up at about that time.

So disheartening was my experience that, when I was in the vicinity of the great Lutheran cathedral, I didn’t even feel like going into the museums. And yet my father had bequeathed us dozens of large illustrated books on the great European painters, which I had known since I was a child. Remember what I said about Tyrone in my essay on St Augustine and other influential writers, who refused to accompany me to Shakespeare’s Globe for the same reasons.

What is the point of high culture if the race that created that art is in a terminal phase, a phase of zero Lebenskraft or ethnosuicidal nihilism? And the same thing happened to me when, travelling on the bus, I spotted the Berlin Philharmonic. I didn’t feel like visiting it, even though a few LPs still survive from the large number of classical records my father had, some recorded by the Berlin Philharmonic (incidentally, Karajan was my favourite conductor).

Categories
Autobiography Kali Yuga

Brandenburg

Here I am, gazing at the Brandenburg Gate a dozen days ago. I’ve just returned home after a trip to several countries in continental Europe, including Germany. In the coming days, I’ll be writing a series of articles, hopefully with an incendiary tone, about what I saw…

Categories
Lightning and the Sun (book) Mein Kampf (book)

The Lightning

and the Sun, 11

It is written in Mein Kampf:

Poison can only be overcome through counter-poison, and only a shallow bourgeois mind can consider the middle line as the way to Paradise.[1]

A philosophy filled with infernal intolerance will only be broken through a clear and absolutely true new idea animated with the same spirit and defended with the same tremendous will-power.

One may, today, well regret that, in the Ancient World, which was much freer than ours, the first moral terror appeared with the coming of Christianity; one cannot, however, put in doubt the fact that the world has been, since then, dominated and oppressed through tyranny, and that tyranny can only be broken through tyranny, and terror through terror. Then only can new conditions — constructive ones — be created.[Emphasis by Ed.]

Political parties are inclined to compromise; creeds, never. Political parties take contradictors into account; creeds proclaim their own infallibility.[2]

That which gave Marxism its success was the perfect collaboration of political will and militant brutality. That which prevented national Germany from moulding German evolution was the absence of a decisive collaboration of brutal force and of the political will of a man of genius.[3]

The conviction that one has the right to use even the most brutal weapons always goes hand in hand with fanatical faith in the necessity of the victory of a revolutionary new order upon this earth.

A movement that is not fighting for such high aims and ideals, will therefore never resort to the most extreme means (or weapons).[4]

These and other such sentences (there are many more in what one could call the Book of the new Aryan faith) define with amazing exactitude the National Socialist Movement as an upheaval ‘against Time,’ and point out the fundamental difference between Adolf Hitler and all such great historical figures as I have, in these pages, described as men ‘above Time’ and men ‘in Time’ — ‘Sun’ men, and ‘Lightning’ men. They glaringly show how foolish it is to compare the Founder of National Socialism with Napoleon — as so many have done — or to accept the well-meant but no less erroneous — though by far less popular — description which a few of his English followers have boldly given of him as a ‘political Christ.’ [5]

Napoleon is but the pocket edition of Genghis Khan. Yet — considered from the cosmic standpoint — he is a man of the same sort as he: a war-lord and an organiser who put his genius to the service of his family and of nothing more, not, by any means, because he saw, or thought he could see, in it, the vehicle of some great impersonal Idea, but simply because it was his. In other words: a man altogether ‘in Time.’ Men ‘in Time’ either have no ideology at all and do not pretend to have any, or they pretend to serve a faith ‘above Time’ or ‘against Time’ and exploit the latter for their own ends (like all the false Christians who fought for themselves in God’s name, and all the false National Socialists for whom the struggle under the Swastika Flag was only a means to work themselves into power) or else — like the sincere Marxists — they have an Ideology which is, itself, an Ideology ‘in Time’; an Ideology which is in contradiction with the divine final y of Creation, and therefore expresses the will of the Death-forces. […]

Adolf Hitler is a typical Man ‘against Time’ — like Rama, like Lord Krishna, the most widely remembered Aryan heroes who fought and ruled in India already before, or at the dawn of, this Dark Age, and, nearer to us, like the very noblest Figure of the Arab world, the Prophet Mohamed. As I said in the beginning of this book, all real great men ‘against Time’ are, ultimately, also ‘above Time,’ inasmuch as any ideal of integral Perfection is necessarily timeless. In other words, that towards which the great men ‘against Time’ strive — Adolf Hitler like the others — is ‘God’; Perfection beyond Time as the Archetype and Principle of that perfect, tangible life-order which they seek to bring — to bring back; or rather to hasten back; — into the world. But they thoroughly know that no changes upon this earth, and especially no changes in the direction of primaeval Perfection in and, which is more, at the end of this Dark Age, can be brought about without violence. They know — infallibly — that, the more the Forces of disintegration and death are successful, i.e., the more the Dark Age is advanced, the more violence is indispensable in order to break the current of decay [emphasis by Ed.]; at least in order to stand in the way of the rush of Time, as a witness (and an active precursor) of the coming glorious Dawn of the next Time-cycle. And they accept that physical necessity. Contrarily even to those men ‘above Time’ who, such as Akhenaton of Egypt, dream of an earthly ‘Kingdom of God,’ they are prepared to make use of violence — of ‘utmost brutality,’ to quote Adolf Hitler’s own words — to the extent it is to forward the sacred purpose: ‘the destruction of evil-doers and the establishment on earth of the reign of Righteousness,’ of which it is spoken in the Bhagavad-Gita; the foundation of the socio-political order which is ‘in harmony with the original meaning of things’ — true to the eternal cosmic Order — as again Adolf Hitler has, with, crystal-clear insight, understood and proclaimed.

The very fact of historical existence — existence within Time — sets a dilemma before all those who already strive towards Perfection; they must either turn their backs to this world of strife altogether, and seek the timeless inner Kingdom of Peace, which is not of this earth; or, if that which they want be an earthly paradise, seek it, by all means, against the current of Time; against the formidable and ever-increasing pressure of the Death-forces throughout any Time-cycle and, specially near the end of one, but then, far from renouncing violence, fight the Forces of disintegration with the self-same ruthless weapons as they use; with violence; with the impact of quantity; and, if necessary — if expedient — even with lies; with the weapons of the Dark Age, the only ones which can and will match theirs.

For centuries, perhaps for millenniums — perhaps ever since the day Lord Krishna proclaimed upon the Kurukshetra battle-field the Gospel of detached Violence, creed of every hero ‘against Time’ — no man has understood that dilemma so clearly, and faced it with such boldness and such consistency as Adolf Hitler [emphasis by Ed.]. And unless one also understands it; unless one at least realises that it is a dilemma — i.e., that one cannot go both ways and that, after one has chosen, one is to tread the path to its end — one will behold neither the evolution of National Socialism (before 1933; between 1933 and 1945; and after 1945) not the history of the Second World War, which is narrowly connected with it, nor the subsequent history of our times, in the proper light. And any judgement one might, then, pass, will be false from the cosmic — and a fortiori from the historical — point of view.

___________

[1] Mein Kampf, p. 371.

[2] Mein Kampf, p. 507.

[3] Mein Kampf, p. 596.

[4] Mein Kampf, p. 597.

[5] The expression was used by Molly Stamford, an English woman detained during the war under the 18 B act.
 

______ 卐 ______

 
The Lightning & the Sun by Savitri Devi (Counter-Currents Publishing, 2014, unabridged edition) can be ordered here.

Categories
Painting

Leader

Happy birthday Uncle Adolf!

Categories
Christendom Revilo Oliver

Christianity

and the survival of the West, 1

by Revilo Oliver (1973)

Contents

The Religion of the West
The Orient
Christianity Today
The Predictable Future
The Consequences
Succedaneous Religion
Postscript

The mission of this generation is the most difficult that has ever faced a Western generation. It must break the terror by which it is held in silence, it must look ahead, it must believe when there is apparently no hope, it must obey even if it means death, it must fight to the end rather than submit… The men of this generation must fight for the continued existence of the West.

—Francis Parker Yockey (1948)

 

Chapter One: THE RELIGION OF THE WEST

YOU, WHO ARE NOW reading these lines, and I are strangers. I have no means of knowing whether you are a Christian or an atheist. That, however, will not matter, so long as we talk about facts and not wishes.

The observed and verifiable facts of the world about us are not affected by religious faith or the lack of faith. Christians and atheists must find themselves in perfect agreement when they affirm that lead is more malleable than steel, that the earth is an oblate spheroid rotating on its axis, that whales are mammals, that Germany was defeated and devastated by the many nations allied against her in 1945, and that the Chinese are Mongolians. About such matters there can be no dispute among Western men, who instinctively accept the reality of the world about us and cannot believe, as do many Orientals, that it is merely an illusion in the mind of a dreamer.

If we would salvage and restore our civilization—the Occidental culture that is peculiarly our own and that now seems to be disintegrating and rotting before our very eyes—we must do so as Western men, by observing reality objectively and by reasoning from it dispassionately. And when we try to compute what resources remain to us, we need first of all to determine the actual strength of the Christian tradition at the present time.

It is a fact, which Christians will regard with satisfaction and some atheists may deplore, that Western civilization, for about half of its recorded history, has been a Christian civilization in the sense that the great majority of the people belonging to it (though never, at any time, all of them) believed implicitly in the truth of the Christian revelation. That religious unanimity was for a long time so nearly complete that, after the fall of the Roman Empire and the evanescence of hopes for its restoration, we of the West regarded our religion as the bond that united us and distinguished us from the rest of the human species. During the Middle Ages, our ancestors occupied the greater part of Europe, and, until they discovered the American continents, they lived only in Europe, but despite that geographical unity, they did not generally refer to themselves as the Europeans. For all practical purposes, furthermore, our ancestors belonged to the same division of the white race: they, like the true Greeks and the true Romans before them, were all members of the great race that we now call Indo-European or Aryan, but they had in their languages no word to designate their blood relationship and biological unity. Thus, when they referred to the unity of which they were always conscious as something transcending the constantly shifting territorial and political divisions of Europe, they called themselves Christendom. And for many centuries that word was adequate and misled no one.

For many centuries the West was Christendom and its civilization was indubitably Christian: that, whether you like it or not, is an historical fact. There is a complementary historical fact that was less obvious at the time and that even thoughtful men overlooked or tried to ignore until the events of the past two decades made it indubitable: Christianity is a religion of the West, and, for all practical purposes, only of the West. It is not, as its polemical adversaries so often charge, a Semitic cult, for it has never commanded the adhesion of any considerable number of Semites, and it is not, as Christians once generally believed, a universal religion, for experience has proved that it cannot be successfully exported to populations that are not Indo-European.

Experience has also proved that it does not do the slightest good to deny ascertained facts. The men of Classical antiquity knew, of course, that the earth is spherical, and Eratosthenes in the third century B.C. calculated its circumference as 24,663 miles. But the early Fathers of the Church, living in the age of growing ignorance that shrouded the last century of the Roman Empire, decided, on the basis of some statements in the Old Testament, that the earth ought to be flat or, at least, no more curved than a shield. Lactantius was the most eloquent and probably, therefore, the most influential of the many who assiduously demanded that the earth be flat and so imposed on their contemporaries the conviction that it was. In the Middle Ages, to be sure, there were some learned men, such as Buridan, who knew that the globe is a globe, but they, like learned men today, who all know very well that talk about the equality of races is utter nonsense, usually refrained from publicly denouncing fashionable delusions. It was not until the Fifteenth Century that the truth became again inescapable, but when it did, the Christians, being men of the West, who do not deny the lessons of experience, surrendered the comfortable error in which they had once generally believed; and since that time, no rational Christian has doubted that the earth is spherical.

Today, as in the Fifteenth Century, Western men have had to discard a congenial assumption to bring their conception of the world into conformity with observed reality. So long as we of the West held unquestioned dominion over the whole earth, we permitted ourselves to assume that our civilization in general, and our religion in particular, could be exported and made universal. We did not sufficiently observed that talent for mimicry is common to all human beings and indeed to all anthropoids; that all human beings stand in awe of those who have power over them; and that a genius for dissimulation and hypocrisy is hereditary in the most intelligent Orientals. Even with these oversights, the evidence against our assumption was fairly clear, but in the pride of our power we felt that we could indulge an assumption that was so congenial to the romantic generosity that is a peculiarity of our race. But the events of half a century, and especially of the last two decades, have shown us, beyond peradventure of doubt, the shape of the world in which we live. We now know what our prolonged missionary effort, cultural as well as religious, accomplished—and how its visible effects were produced.

When Cortés and his small but valiant band of iron men conquered the teeming empire of the Aztecs, he was immediately followed by a train of earnest missionaries, chiefly Franciscans, who began to preach the Gospel to the natives and soon sent home, with naive enthusiasm, glowing accounts of the conversions they had effected. Their pious sincerity and innocent joy still lives in the pages of Father Sahagun, Father Torquemada, and many others. For their sake I am glad that the poor Franciscans never suspected how small a part they played in the religious conversions that gave them such happiness. Far, far more persuasive than their sermons and their book had been the Spanish cannon that breached and shattered the Aztec defenses, and the ruthless Spanish soldiers who slew the Aztec priests at their own altars and toppled the Aztec idols from the sacrificial pyramids. The Aztecs, Tepanecs, and other natives accepted Christianity, not because their hearts were touched by alien and incomprehensible doctrines of love and mercy, but because it was the religion of the white men whose bronze cannon and mail-clad warriors were invincible.

That was early in the Sixteenth Century and even then there were not wanting indications that should have given pause to a critical mind, but we of the West went on repeating that fond mistake for four centuries, as the missionaries whom we sent to all parts of the world wrote home glowing reports of the number of “hearts” they had “won for Christ.” It was only after our enemies’ campaign of “anti-colonialism” really got under way that most of us realized that what had won all those hearts was primarily the discipline of British regiments and the manifest power of the white man.

We now know what happened. On many a shore of Africa, for example, missionaries eager to “win souls for Christ” ventured to land alone, and the aborigines, after mutilating and torturing them for a good communal laugh, ate them, cooked or raw according to the custom of the local cuisine. Usually, a few weeks or a few months later, a British cruiser hove to off shore and lobbed half a dozen 4.5 shells into the native village, and, if not pressed for time, landed half a company of marines to beat the bushes and drag out a dozen or so savages to hang on convenient trees. Consequently the tribe, if not very obtuse, took the hint and respected the next bevy of missionaries as somehow representing the god of thunder and lightning. And if the men of God distributed enough free rice and medical care with their sermons, they were able to make “converts,” as the natives learned to utter the words that Christians like to hear.

That is, in essence, the whole history of “winning souls” among the savages. There were, of course, many local variations. If the first missionaries were preceded by troops or white settlers, the blacks had already been convinced of the virtues of Christian rifles and had learned that white men should not be regarded as esculent comestibles. It often happened, however, that the natives, even after many years of preaching and conversion, rejected the white man’s odd rites very emphatically, and a fresh supply of missionaries was needed. In 1905, for example, the Maji-Maji conspiracy in Tanganyika murdered all the missionaries and almost all the white men and women in the entire territory, and it required a German regiment and several companies of marines to restore the teachings of the Gospel. That was done by giving some forty or fifty thousand demonstrations that a Mauser bullet could penetrate even a black hide that had been most carefully anointed with the grease of a boiled baby.

The Christian missionaries did teach a ritual and often inculcated a superstition that had some superficial resemblance to their religion, but as for teaching the spiritual substance of Christianity, they might as well have followed the example of St. Francis and preached sermons to the birds. That is why the many, many thousands of devoted Christians who expended their whole lives to “save souls” built only an edifice of cardboard and tinsel that is now gone in the wind.

What the vanishing of that flimsy facade has made obvious was predictable from the first. The religion of the West has never been comprehensible to the rudimentary minds of Congoids, Capoids, and Australoids, races so primitive that they were congenitally incapable of inventing a wheel and even of using one without supervision—races that could not develop for themselves even the first and simplest preliminaries of a civilization. When the missionaries invented systems of writing the crude languages of the primitives, they had also to invent words to express such concepts as “God,” “soul,” “justice,” “morality,” and “religion”—invent them by either creating new words or by perverting to such meanings sounds that in the native jargons conveyed impressions that were faintly and remotely analogous. That fact alone should have made us think. It was clear, furthermore, that the “converts,” even those who had been most thoroughly imbued with an awe of the god of repeating rifles and locomotives, would conform to the white man’s morality only under coercion, and that whenever they escaped from the white man’s supervision they spontaneously reverted not only to their own mores but also to whatever form of voodoo they had practiced before. Even if earlier experience had not been conclusive, what happened in Haiti at the very beginning of the Nineteenth Century should have removed the last lingering doubt. But the missionaries did not learn, and the “Ladies’ Missionary Society” went on contributing their mites, plying their needles, and glowing with tender emotion for the sweet little savages depicted by their romantic imaginations.

Although it is true that in some places in the former colonial possessions missionaries are still tolerated, if they are obsequious to the natives and pay very well, we have at last learned that the Gospel follows the British regiments in the white man’s ignominious and insane retreat from the world that was his.