The question is, who is using whom?
Are whites using Jesus and the racelessness of Christianity to further their own ends, i.e., to build and sustain an empire in this world, or did Jesus (or more precisely, the Jew that wrote the first gospel and invented this probably fictional character) mean only to use them to make the world safe for Jews?
Both could be true. If so, it’s been an extraordinarily stable symbiosis.
Wolfgang Willrich: Maria Weinmayr.
It is not only because the shape of the body of the Nordic man entails certain dimensions in height, width and length, or because it is often characterized by blond hair and blue eyes that we grant it some importance. It is not for that reason that we attribute a certain value to our Nordic inheritance.
Certainly the indications that the form of the body of the Nordic man gives us do not cease to constitute the very basis of our ideal of beauty. This has always been the case in Western history and it is enough to be convinced of this by taking a look at the panorama of the works of art that have been produced over the centuries by all the civilisations and ‘cultures’ that have been appearing on the European territory.
As far back as we go into the past, we always find sculptural figures and paintings that evoke an ideal of beauty, the characteristic forms of Nordic man. Even in certain Eastern civilisations we are in the presence of the same phenomenon. While the deities are represented with distinctly Nordic features, the figures of demons representing lower or dark forces have traits of other human races. In the Indies and even in the Far East there are often Buddhas whose features are distinctly Nordic.
That the Nordic racial body represents for us the ideal of beauty, seems natural to us. But all this only acquires its real and profound meaning because we find in it the expression and symbol of the Nordic soul. Without that Nordic soul, the Nordic body would be nothing more than an object of study for the natural sciences, as the physical form of any other human or animal race.
Just as the Nordic body has become precious and pleasant to us as perfect support and expression of the Nordic soul, so we experience repulsion by certain Jewish racial traits because they are the direct symbol and the true indication of a Jewish soul that for us is totally foreign.
Wise specialists of the matter tell us that a certain racial physical form and a certain racial soul necessarily go together and that they are, after all, more than the expression of one and the same thing. However, nothing seems more difficult for us than to demonstrate scientifically or by other means the accuracy of that homogeneity between the racial body and the racial soul.
‘Annals’, No. 2. Edition of the Belgian Schutzstaffel (SS) Brigade ‘Wallonie’, excerpted from ‘The SS Order’, OSS I.3.3.
______ 卐 ______
Editor’s note: The level of inverted values imposed by Christianity, even among white nationalists, is so evident that few reproduce on their sites images of Aryan beauty. Prior to Christianity, Aryan beauty appeared everywhere in sculptures and paintings. In the Middle Ages the Aryan figure lost its beauty and iconography was replaced with depictions of a Semitic Jesus, so that Aryans no longer experienced repulsion by certain Jewish racial traits.
The palace at Milan is a large rambling building. Originally it was a military governor’s rather modest headquarters. In the last century when Rome ceased to be a practical centre for the West, the palace was enlarged to become an imperial residence. Because of the German tribes, the emperors had to be close to the Alps. Also, the farther an emperor is from the city of Rome the longer his reign is apt to be, for the populace of that city is notoriously fickle and arrogant, with a long memory of the emperors it has overthrown. None of us stays for long at Rome if he can help it.
Constantine enlarged the palace in Milan, building the state rooms, while Constantius added the second-floor living quarters through which we now walked. These rooms look out on a large inner court. I personally prefer the old-fashioned form of architecture with small private rooms arranged about an atrium, but Constantius was a modernist in architecture as well as in religion. I find such rooms too large, and of course ruinously expensive to heat.
Guards and eunuchs stood at every door, arrogant yet servile. A court is the most depressing place on earth. Wherever there is a throne, one may observe in rich detail every folly and wickedness of which man is capable, enamelled with manners and gilded with hypocrisy. I keep no court in the field. In residence, I keep as little as possible.
At the final door, Eusebius left me with a deep bow. Guards opened the door, and I stepped into the private dining room. Constantius reclined on one of the two couches within whose right angle was the table. Opposite him Eusebia sat in an ivory chair. I bowed low to both of them, intoning the proper formula.
Constantius mumbled his response. Then he waved me to the couch beside him.
“You look better without that damned beard.”
I blushed as I took my place on the couch. Eusebia smiled encouragingly. “I rather liked the beard,” she said.
“That’s because you’re an atheist, too.” My heart missed a beat. But it was only the Emperor’s heavy wit.
“She likes these high-sounding, low-living Cynics.” He indicated his wife with a knotty ringed hand. “She’s always reading them. Not good for women to read.” I said something agreeable, grateful to find him in a good mood. Constantius had removed his diadem and outer robes, and he looked almost human, quite unlike the statue he had appeared earlier.
Wine was brought me and though I seldom drink it full strength, this day I drank deep, to overcome nervousness.
“Who does he look like?” Constantius had been examining me curiously, like a new slave or horse. “Without that beard?”
Eusebia frowned, pretending to be thoughtful. One gives away nothing in dealing with a tyrant, even if the tyrant is one’s husband.
The Emperor answered his own question, “Constans. You look just like him. Just like my brother.” My heart sank. Constantius had always been thought to have had a hand in his brother’s death. But there was no significance to this remark, either. Constantius, at his ease, tended to be literal and rather simple.
I said that I had been too young to recall what my late cousin had looked like.
“Much the best of the three of us. Tall. Like our father.” Constantius was much concerned with his own shortness.
An elaborate dinner was served us, and I tasted everything, for to refuse any dish would show that one suspected the Emperor of treachery. It was an ordeal, and my stomach nearly rebelled.
Constantius led the conversation, as emperors are supposed to do—unless they are given to philosophic debate like me, in which case I must speak very fast at my own table to be heard.
I was asked about my studies at Athens. I described them, ending “I could spend the rest of my life there.” As I said this, I noticed that Eusebia frowned imperceptibly: a signal that I was not to speak of student life.
But Constantius had not been listening. He lay now flat on his back, belching softly and kneading his barrel-like stomach with one hand. When he spoke, he did so with eyes shut.
“I am the first Augustus to reign alone since my father, who was himself the first to reign alone in this century. But he never intended for just one of us to rule. Any more than Diocletian intended for any one of his successors to govern alone.” Constantius raised himself on one elbow and looked at me with those curiously mournful eyes which were his most attractive yet most puzzling feature. They were the eyes of a poet who had seen all the tragedy in this world and knows what is to come in the next. Yet the good effect of those eyes was entirely undone by a peevish mouth.
Who could ever know Constantius? I certainly did not. I hated him, but Eusebia loved him—I think —and she was a woman who would not have cared for what was evil. Like the rest of us, Constantius was many men in the body of one.
“The world is too big for one person to govern it.” My heart beat faster for I knew now what was to come. “I cannot be everywhere. Yet the imperial power must be everywhere. Things have a habit of going wrong all at once. As soon as the German tribes get loose in the north, the Persians attack in the south. At times I think they must plan it. If I march to the East, I’m immediately threatened in the West. If one general rises up against me, then I must deal with at least two more traitors at the same time. The empire is big. Distances are great. Our enemies many.” He tore off a roast duck’s leg and chewed it, all the time looking at me with those melting eyes.
“I mean to hold the state together. I shall not sacrifice one city to the barbarians, one town, one field!” The high-pitched voice almost cracked. “I mean to hold the state for our family. We won it. We must maintain it. And that is why we must be loyal to one another.” How that phrase from those cruel lips struck me! I dared not look at him.
“Julian,” the voice was lower now. “I intend to make you Caesar, and my heir until such time as I have a son.”
“Lord…” was all I could say. Tears unexpectedly filled my eyes. I shall never know if I wanted my fate. Yet when it came to me, a secret line snapped within and the perilous voyage began.
Eusebia congratulated me. I don’t recall what was said. More wine was brought and Constantius, in a jovial mood, told me how the astrologists preferred 6 November to any other day in the month. He also insisted that I study military strategy, while assembling a household suitable to my new rank. I was to have a salary. It would not be large, he said, understating the matter considerably: if I had not had a small income from my mother’s estate, I would have starved to death that first year. My cousin could never be accused of generosity.
Constantius almost smiled at me. “Now,” he said, “I have a surprise for you.” The surprise was his sister Helena. She entered the room with great dignity. I had never met her, though I had seen her at a distance during my first visit to Milan.
Helena was not an attractive woman. She was short, inclined to stoutness, with the short legs and long torso of Constantius. By one of those unlucky chances, her face was the face of her father Constantine the Great. It was most alarming: the same broad cheeks, the thin proud mouth, the large nose, the huge full jaw, an imperial portrait re-created in a middle-aged woman. Yet despite this unfortunate resemblance, she was otherwise most feminine with an agreeable soft voice. (I have always hated women with shrill voices.) She moved modestly, even shyly. At the time I knew nothing about her except that she was ten years older than I, and that she was Constantius’s favourite sister.
After formally acknowledging our greetings, Helena took her place in the vacant chair. She was obviously under considerable strain. So was I, for I knew exactly what was going to happen next. I had always known that something like this was apt to be my fate, but I had put it as much as possible out of my mind. Now the moment was at hand.
“We do you the honour,” said Constantius, “of bestowing our own beloved sister upon you as your wife and consort, a human and tangible link between our crowns.” He had obviously prepared this sentence in advance. I wondered if he had spoken thus to Gallus when he gave him Constantia in marriage.
Helena looked at the floor. I am afraid I turned scarlet. Eusebia watched me, amused but guarded. She who had been my friend and ally could now quite easily become my enemy. I was aware of this, even then. Or do I write now with hindsight? In any case, it was perfectly plain that should Helena have a child and Eusebia remain barren, my child would be Constantius’s heir. The four of us were now caught like flies in a spider’s web.
I have no clear idea what I said to Constantius. I am sure that I stammered. Helena later said that I was most eloquent, though unable to look at her during my speech of acceptance. Doubtless I was thinking of my conjugal duties. Never did a woman attract me less. Yet we would have to have a child. This sort of burden is the usual fate of princes and I daresay it is a small price to pay for greatness, though at the time it seems larger than it ought.
Helena was a good woman but our moments of intimacy were rare, unsatisfactory, and somewhat pathetic, for I did want to please her. But it was never pleasant, making love to a bust of Constantine. Though I could not make her happy, I did not make her suffer, and I think we became friends.
The dinner ended when Constantius swung his short bowed legs to the floor, and stretched till his bones cracked. Then without a word to any of us, he left the room. Eusebia gave me a half-smile. She put her hand out to Helena and together the two women withdrew, leaving me staring at the pheasant’s eggs which an artistcook had arranged in a beautifully leathered nest as final course. It was an extraordinary moment. I had entered the room a proscribed student. I left it as Caesar and husband. The change was dizzying.
‘In order to solve the Jewish Problem Aryan males have to overcome Xtian ethics. To defeat the outer, biological Jew it is necessary to defeat the inner, mental/psychological Jew (Jesus)’.
—Joseph Walsh
Yesterday I said: ‘But white nationalists are not doing that. They still obey the inner Jew. Just see how they have treated Brenton Tarrant in sharp contrast to how Jews love Benjamin Goldstein’.
I also wrote: ‘Just compare the zero comments in our latest post… with the hundreds of comments that sites such as The Unz Reviewget’. But yesterday I was taken aghast by the number of advocates of conspiracy theories precisely in The Unz Review threadcomparing the Tarrant reaction among whites with the Goldstein reaction among Jews. You can bet on it: I prefer zero comments in some of my threads than dozens of comments coming from conspiracy theorists!
But what really bothers me in that, unlike the Jews of Hebron who consider Goldstein a hero, quite a few people in the pro-white forums resort to paleologic thinking when confronted with the deeds of a Tarrant. This Monday I said: ‘It is fundamental to understand schizophrenia in general to comprehend why, during lone-wolf attacks similar to last week’s, the most bizarre conspiracy theories immediately crop up like fungi’. I also promised a future review of a treatise that explains the disorder, but I’d like to advance some of that explanation through a quote I also found yesterday:
Many conspiracy theories appeal to the basic ways we process information. We are, for example, hard-wired to believe in intentional causality. That means that when you’re camping and you hear a rustling bush, you probably assume there’s a dangerous animal lurking around. You know it’s probably just the wind, but still, it feels safer to assume the source is a threat. That same paranoia pops up all the time when you don’t quite understand the cause of something.
Indeed: our brains are built for the conditions of prehistory, when it was quite valuable to assign paranoid intentionality to patterns that, in reality, were not that threatening.
But as I said, what bothers me is the way many commenters reacted to Tarrant. The Jew does not spin webs around Goldstein but sees his actions as supportive to the Jews pure and simple. But the Aryan does not see the hero in Tarrant: a hero pure and simple. The asymmetry between the psyche of the degenerate Aryan of today, including nationalists, and the psyche of the Jew cannot be greater. Not only are there axiological errors in the Aryan psyche—Greg Johnson for one saying that Tarrant’s actions were ‘evil’. Those nationalists who, unlike Johnson, do not condemn Tarrant fall instead into the typical paranoia that pops up any time they don’t quite understand the (simple) cause of something.
And what we have to understand is very simple indeed: We have to transvalue the values of Americanism to the ethos of the Nazis so that, instead of condemning Tarrant as an evil man or elaborate conspiracy theories, consider him a hero as the Jews consider their Goldstein a hero.
But that won’t happen until white nationalists realise that the first priority to beat the Jew is to expel the inner Jesus from their hearts; even, in the form of Neo-Christian ethics, the secularised Jesus in the many Johnsons of the movement. That is the only way forward: to transvalue all values and be as psychically healthy as the Jews of Hebron.
Wolfgang Willrich, unknown man.
Thanks to an acute sense of the law that governed the origin of their species, peoples like the Spartans resorted in their selections to the same principles of inflexible severity originally prescribed by Nature, and this even after having reached more hospitable territories. Other peoples of the Nordic race, like our German ancestors, naturally obeyed the biological laws that governed the creation of their species.
Notebook of the Schutzstaffel (SS) No. 7 of 1942. The biological sense of the selection. The habitat produces a certain kind of selection. Drawn from ‘The SS Order’, OSS I.3.2.
Today a friend in the UK sent me a link to yesterday’s article, ‘The Jewish Rape of Europa vs the Awakening Lion…’
What these guys don’t want to see is that Protestantism created the cultural milieu for accepting Jews again in the island after Edward the Great had expelled them centuries before. They also don’t get, as another overseas commenter said in a previous thread, that ‘The dominance of Christian ethics on the western mind is the real problem’.
There are even commenters using the term ‘psychopath’ or ‘sociopath’, one of which I did not let pass because I am fed up of their silly monocausalism (it was the thread quoting the Unz commenter’s thought-experiment about snipers on the border).
The article linked above, ‘The Jewish rape of Europe’ could easily be renamed as ‘Whites allowing the rape of Europe’ and precisely because of Christian ethics: which is why I am quoting the Unz commenter on a daily basis.
Commenting on the new subtitle of this site, ‘The JQ and Christianity are one and the same’, Joseph Walsh re-tweeted yesterday: ‘In order to solve the Jewish Problem Aryan males have to overcome Xtian ethics. To defeat the outer, biological Jew it is necessary to defeat the inner, mental/psychological Jew (Jesus)’.
But white nationalists are not doing that. They still obey the inner Jew. Just see how they have treated Brenton Tarrant in sharp contrast to how Jews love Benjamin Goldstein (pic left). Obviously, most white nationalists not only ignore that Jews are merely a secondary infection and that the primary one is Christianity. By obeying the inner Jew white nationalists are also traitors to the white race.
In other words, the point of view this site provides is a paradigm shift in pro-white forums. And as all paradigm shifts, the first stage means that most nationalists will simply ignore us. Just compare the zero comments in our latest post that substantiates that the JQ = Christianity with the hundreds of comments that sites such as The Unz Review get.
Feels lonely sometimes. But this is the price for breaking away from the current paradigm in white nationalism.
There was never a time, even in colonial days, when America was without at least a substantial undercurrent of white self-contempt. Abolitionists of the day, adhering to an egalitarianism inspired by their Christianity, regarded race-based slavery as an abomination. In fact, free blacks were legally equal to whites in several of the original colonies, and were extended the franchise in some. This undercurrent of white self-contempt ultimately resulted in the Civil War, at the end of which blacks were made the legal equals of whites nationwide; and this at a time when the country was virtually 100% white and Christian. This act of racial self-abnegation is still without parallel, even in modern times.
Having studied this issue, I’ve come to the conclusion that preserving their own race is very low on the list of white Americans’ priorities, if it registers at all. Mostly, the opposite is true. The common opinion among them is that any concern for preserving the white race is “racist”, akin to Nazism, and deeply Evil. Of course, without a conscious effort to preserve their race, it’s obviously not going to survive.
Consequently, American whites accept their own looming racial extinction with apparent equanimity. They have approved it directly through their own actions, and indirectly through laws passed by their representatives, for over a hundred and fifty years. They’ve had plenty of time to reverse course, and haven’t done so. Again and again, white dissidents have stepped forward to warn them, and they have been ignored or destroyed. All their efforts have done is underscore the fact that saving a race of people that doesn’t want to be saved is an exercise in futility. I must conclude that if there is hope, it won’t be found in politics.
To contextualise this series about psychiatry, see: here. Below, an abridged translation of a chapter of one of the books that I wrote at the beginning of the century:
After the parody of the previous pagesI recover my original voice.
If you are a victim of abusive parents, the ideal is that you run away before they harm you.
If you stay in your parents’ home and they want to take you to the therapist, you blunder by believing he’ll be your ally. If you need someone to talk to, do it with a friend of your entire confidence. Don’t go with someone who makes his living from what abusive parents pay him, not even to one session. Remember that society gives the therapist powers to slander you with a psych label.
In case you have already gone with a therapist never, ever take any ‘medicine’ he gives you. These legal drugs are more toxic than the illegal ones that are being sold on the street. Having a real confident outside the mental health profession is the best option.
Alas, sometimes there is no one to trust or who is willing to listen. The family is such a monolithic institution that there are many taboos to question it, and the psychiatric profession has deceived many people.
In some cities there are places for people in distress where you can get some shelter. When I lived in England, part of the college course on mental health consisted of visiting Drop-in centres. I realised that only a few of those who took shelter there were genuinely disturbed; the majority were unemployed people in Manchester. It was refreshing to see that in those centres there were no psychiatrists or other professionals, not even social workers. No one who sided society or the family directed these centres. They even offered me to work if I volunteered. It’s not a bad idea that you go to one of these shelters for people in distress.
If the city where you live lacks a Drop-in shelter, or if there are no jobs to flee from your abusive parents, or if you are suffering from a panic attack, go to the nearest library and see if they have books by Alice Miller (child abuse) or Robert Whitaker (the most readable critic of psychiatry). If not, ask for any of these books:
Thomas Szasz, Anti-Freud: Karl Kraus’s criticism of psychoanalysis and psychiatry (NY: Syracuse University Press, 1990).
The critique of language is the most radical of all critiques. This is the number one book in my list because if we don’t uproot from our vocabulary the Newspeak of psychiatrists, psychoanalysts and clinical psychologists it will be impossible to understand the victims of the family. The millenarian humanities history, biography and especially autobiography after Modrow (see below) are more than enough to understand the human mind. The new and aggressive psychiatric and psychoanalytic ideologies, and especially their language, only mystify our self-understanding.
Karl Kraus, who lived in Freud’s Vienna, was a man of good heart who perceived the dangers that the Newspeak of psychiatry and psychoanalysis represented for the underprivileged of his native city. Kraus tried to debunk it in the strongest terms in his periodical, but his admonitions fell in deaf ears:
Yes, our pitiable state is partly caused by stupidity […]. Profound stupidity carries deep conviction and cannot be bought off for any price. The greatest public menace, therefore, is the incorruptible psychiatric expert […]. The very unselfishness with which such psychiatric outrages are perpetrated suggests that they spring from pathological imbecility rather than from any other source. If only such idiocies were not destined, in each and every case, to destroy a life! (p. 135).
I would recommend reading Anti-Freud together with the appendix of 1984where Orwell resumes ‘The principles of Newspeak’.
John Modrow, How to become a schizophrenic: the case against biological psychiatry(Seattle: Apollyon Press, second edition, 1996).
In spite of the fact that Modrow uses a psychiatric label on the very title, on the first page he writes mockingly:
Actually I have about much belief in the reality of ‘schizophrenia’ as I have in the reality of witchcraft or demonic possession.
This book consists of two parts: an autobiographical recount of the author’s experiences about how he lost his mind when he was young due to parental abuse, and a scientific debunking of psychiatry.
The value of Modrow’s book lies in that compared to, say, a brilliant essay by Ronald Laing about madness, Modrow explains how he lost his mind from his own subjective experience. Given the unique value autobiography has in the true study of the human psyche, Modrow’s study must be considered a paradigm to understand the victims disturbed by an all-out assault at home. Robert Baker, a professor of psychology that I met in 1994, has said that Modrow ‘is, perhaps, the unrecognized and unappreciated world’s foremost authority on this disorder [schizophrenia]’. [1]
Jeffrey Masson, Against therapy: emotional tyranny and the myth of psychological healing (London: HarperCollins Publishers, 1997).
——————, Final analysis: the making and unmaking of a psychoanalyst (London: HarperCollins, 1991).
Everyone should know, then, that to step into an office of a psychotherapist, regardless of the latter’s persuasion, is to enter a world where great harm is possible (Against Therapy, p. 298).
The most difficult thing for a fish is to do a critique of the water.
Let’s imagine a fish in a factory-polluted waters. The only way this animal may realise that the pollution is poisoning it is to see the factory from a POV outside of the lagoon. But his aquaculture prevents it from doing so.
We are living 120 years after the first case of psychotherapy, Freud with Dora. Nowadays psychotherapy is a multibillion-dollar quack profession accepted and respected by society. Many of Freud’s ideas are now part of our culture’s folklore: repressed memories, sexual sublimation, phallic symbols, castration anxiety and more—the ‘water’ we breathe every day in our lagoon. Following the metaphor, Szasz and Masson are the amphibians that evolved, came out from the lagoon and saw the polluting factory from a privileged viewpoint.
Masson, a great fan of psychoanalysis in the past, defrocked himself from the profession because he didn’t want to play the role of an agent of the family, but of the family’s victims. He convinced me that the diverse schools of psychoanalysis and psychotherapy have not broken away from psychiatry. It’s very telling, Masson says, that no psychotherapist dares to denounce electroshock in the media. Those who still believe that psychotherapy (including psychoanalysis) and psychiatry are essentially different things would benefit from reading these books by Masson.
Many people have not realised yet that Freud was a writer of fiction. It’s incredible that Freud’s literary fiction has bamboozled so many intellectuals and sophisticated people. Someone said hyperbolically that the criminal of criminals is the philosopher. This sentence may be imputed not only on Marx but on Freud as well: the damage their followers did to the 20th century has not been fully appreciated yet.
After reading the Afterword to the second edition of Against Therapy I felt very pleased to see that Masson concludes his book advising his readers that instead of childishly searching for ‘therapy’ in a paternal figure they write their autobiographies.
Alvin Pam, ‘Biological psychiatry: science or pseudoscience?’ in Colin Ross and Alvin Pam Pseudoscience in biological psychiatry: blaming the body (NY: Wiley & Sons, 1995), pp. 7-84.
The most difficult thing for a fish is to do a critique of the water. But the most difficult thing of all, even more difficult than to criticise psychotherapy, is to criticize a pseudosciencethat is being taught to medical students.
The psychiatrists of the 19th century had the political genius to perceive that science, and not the humanities, was going to be the paradigm of the 20th century. So they invested their ideology with a scientific robe. But as Alvin Pam says:
What I mean is much more fundamental: biological psychiatry cannot fulfill its mission properly because in its current state it has more the accoutrement of a scientific discipline than the substance. To be sure, this statement will raise skeptical eyebrows. It will be the burden of this chapter to spell out the grounds for such a broad iconoclastic assertion.
A common ‘fish’ frequently listens in his aquaculture that the gene of depression has been discovered; that a physician won the Nobel prize for his investigations on dopamine (that the psychiatrists relate with ‘schizophrenia’); that in his school Ritalin is recommended for kids who suffer from ‘attention deficit disorder’; that studies on twins have demonstrated that ‘mental illnesses’ are hereditary, etc. Since our fish is completely immersed in this water it’s impossible that it becomes aware that the water is contaminated. His critical intelligence has no basis to realise that these affirmations don’t come from scientists but from pseudo-scientists that have self-deceived themselves in order to make a profit.
Pam’s chapter originally appeared in the journal Acta Psychiatrica Scandinavicaand represented the ‘emergence from the water’ for a student of psychiatry who read it and became aware that in her university she had been taught a false science (pp. 241f). Pam’s paper uses the same jargon that biological psychiatrists use and it contains almost two hundred references of specialized literature. It’s ideal for medical doctors and scientists who are interested in a scholarly rebuttal of the claims of psychiatry and its ‘medical model’ of mental disorders.
Peter Breggin, Toxic psychiatry: why therapy, empathy and love must replace the drugs, electroshock, and biochemical theories of the ‘new psychiatry’ (NY: St. Martin’s Press, 1994).
The picture I have drawn looks overwhelming, yet it is not an exaggeration. Psychiatry is a giant industry, protected by a state monopoly and promoted by a psycho-pharmaceutical complex with multi-billion-dollar power (p. 370).
Just as Loren Mosher, Breggin realized that his profession might be based on a theoretical fraud. There is nobody more authoritative to debunk a cult or a pseudoscience than he who devoted decades of his life researching its foundations.
Breggin has fought against the tide in his profession. He sides children re-victimized by his colleagues. He has performed campaigns against the revival of lobotomy, electroshock and the medication of children and the elderly with neuroleptics.
Breggin’s book is a treatise of almost five hundred readable pages for the non-specialist. In the chapters on the alliance of parents with psychiatrists, Breggin denounces psychiatric labels and the drugs that are being prescribed to millions of children and adolescents—yes, millions of them [2]—at the initiative of psychiatrists hired by the parents.
Anyone who has been deceived by the media and believes that depression or even a severe mental disorder is of biological nature, or that it may be treated medically, must read Breggin’s book, especially if he is taking psychiatric drugs.
Breggin’s chapter on electroshock shocks the reader: it shows the truly inquisitorial methods of the psychiatric profession. It’s also shocking the chapter on the alliance of psychiatry with the medical schools in the universities; the insurance and the drug companies; the media, some government institutions and associations of parents: everyone except the ‘patient’ identified by all of them.
Since 1971 Breggin is director of the International Center for the Study of Psychiatry and Psychology. Originally the centre was founded to oppose the revival of lobotomy, and today it opposes the inclination in our culture to diagnose and medicate children and adolescents. Since 1999 the centre publishes a journal critical of bio-reductionist theories. [3]
Thomas Szasz, The manufacture of madness: a comparative study of the Inquisition and the mental health movement (NY: Syracuse University Press, 1997).
During the past two decades I have devoted much work and many words to exposing the scientific stupidity, the philosophical folly, and the moral monstrosity of this official psychiatric posture. [4]
Aristotle said that to obtain a truly profound knowledge about something it’s necessary to know its history. This scholarly treatise showed me what is psychiatry and why psychiatrists do what they have been doing in the last three centuries. In this work Szasz examines the great similarities between the Inquisition and psychiatry, including present-day psychiatry. Without the Inquisition there can be no ‘witches’. Likewise, without the Psychiatric Institution there can be no ‘schizophrenics’. In other words, psychiatrists manufacture madness.
Ignoring this work reminds me of the Russian who was ignorant of The Gulag Archipelagobefore the fall of the Berlin wall. Trying to understand the mental health movement without reading Szasz is like trying to understand Stalin’s Russia without reading Solzhenitsyn.
___________
Notes
[1] Mind games (op. cit.), p. 223.
[2] Your drug may be your problem(op. cit.), p. 16.
[3] Information about the International Center for the Study of Psychiatry and Psychology can be obtained in the website (http://www.icspp.org) or writing to ICSPP, 4628 Chestnut Street, Bethesda, Maryland 20814, USA.
[4] Schizophrenia (op. cit.), p. 44.
______ 卐 ______
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Wilhelm Petersen, unknown boy
The selection and the elimination carried out in a territory belonging to a specific species means that only those who have succeeded in the conditions of that particular area reproduce in the long term. Conversely, whoever does not overcome these conditions disappears. As the researcher V. Eicktedt has done, let us take as a basis that Europoid Nordic humanity with light skin has been particularly marked by the uniform and isolated Nordic-Eurasian (Siberian) habitat of the ice age.
We can easily imagine the consequences of a natural selection and elimination in that space. Only those who had been subjected to the harshest conditions of existence could survive and perpetuate for the next millennia. Reproducing and perpetuating was granted only to those who finally revealed themselves superior to that climate and to that inhospitable aspect of the earth; to those who were, in short, stronger than Nature thanks to their inflexibility and their hardness. Only the qualities that allowed the victorious man to overcome Nature were perpetuated and consolidated by the means of hereditary transmission.
Notebook of the Schutzstaffel (SS) No. 7 of 1942. The biological sense of the selection. Habitat produces a certain type of selection, taken from ‘The SS Order’, OSS I.3.2.
As should be obvious to anyone except a complete buffoon such as yourself, if whites don’t believe the races differ—and in vast majority they quite obviously don’t, and aren’t shy about telling you so—then there’s no reason to be distressed about being replaced.
The truth is, your sort of conspiracy nonsense is nothing but phony opposition, taking up space that should be occupied by real opposition such as that of Brenton Tarrant.
It exists so that whatever revolutionary sentiment there is can be diverted into harmless channels.
It exists so that the real, cultural cause of the ongoing white racial suicide can never be understood and addressed.
That is the place of conspiracy nuts like you in the political ecology, and a large part of the reason why the white race seems likely to become extinct.