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Kali Yuga Mexico City

Uncle

Beto’s house

I recently complained that in Europe I saw a huge number of non-white people in a West whose new faith seems to be the extinction of the white man. These days I left the town where I live, where the only white person is my dentist, to look for a room in the big capital, where there are still some white people. The hotel where I was staying is near Magdalena Street in Mexico City, where my loved ones used to live. Now that area is a disaster due to the uncontrolled reproduction of Neanderthals.

The greatest outrage to the beautiful street of my memories is that where Magdalena #115, my Uncle Beto’s house, once stood, there is now a car park guarded by nacos.[1] The house was demolished long ago. I mention Uncle Beto in my trilogy, sharing several anecdotes that portray him as the only relative who, as a young man, was a fan of National Socialist Germany. His house was beautiful: the only one where, decades ago, I saw a copy of Mein Kampf in his library. Seeing a hole in place of such a lovely house now ruled by nacos in a hideous, enormous car park that even extends to the other street on the same block, kills a part of my soul in the sense that my past with my loved ones (now almost all deceased or moved away) is part of my soul.

The Mexican capital has deteriorated far more than the European cities I recently visited, as the population growth of the nacos has been exponential. My once beloved Magdalena Street is just one example of what is gradually happening throughout the West.

I suffered greatly trying to find a mini-flat in a privileged area. What a difference with a movie I saw a long time ago, The Day the Earth Stood Still! If instead of nacos, blacks and gooks there were only whites, as in that 1951 film, it would be possible to find room and board in a house as decent as the one that the alien Mr Carpenter, whose image appears at the beginning of this post, saw when he was looking for shelter:

But in the same film, which I recently rewatched on YouTube, we see the cause of that demographic catastrophe that has already destroyed the best neighbourhoods of the Mexican capital, and is destroying Europe. In one scene, looking at the great statue of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., Mr Carpenter tells the boy that Lincoln ‘must have been a great man’.

Therein lie the Christian roots, as talking about Lincoln Dr Robert Morgan has so often pointed out in the comments section of The Unz Review, of the current replacement of whites by coloureds. If Christian ethics hadn’t taken hold of the soul of the white man, or if Hitler had won the war as my uncle Beto wanted, perhaps his decent house would still exist instead of the Dantesque hell I encountered yesterday while walking through Magdalena Street.

By the way, I will be absent from blogging again during the days when I move, once more, to the capital.
____________

[1] In Mexico a naco is a person vulgar or uneducated, regardless of economic status, although it is often used as a racial slur.

Categories
Benjamin Power Racial right

Dear César,

Thank you for your email. I’m sorry to hear you are in such abject unhappiness. I hope returning to your childhood area helps you. I grew up on the outskirts of a tiny, picturesque country village. I don’t know if it would let me down these days if I returned and examined it in adult detail, but all I remember from then are miles of bright cornfields and flower meadows, horses, and fields of cows, the scent of manure, and wood smoke, and plenty of butterflies. It’s a shame the atmosphere inside my family home did not match the delightful pastoral exterior, at least not for very long. Still, it’s good therapy to extricate yourself from what sounds like a nightmare town. As an honorary ‘country person’ I’ve never liked living in cities or towns much. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to live in an area with no white faces. I imagine it would make me paranoid, as if they were ‘closing in’. I look at the classic illustrations of Rome in about 400-500 AD, totally decayed and vulgar, fallen to pieces, and terribly depressing, and I think of our countries these days.

As with myself, I know you are betting on a currency collapse to aid your financial situation. I often feel I have let myself down by not having a job which could provide for us ([my girlfriend] and myself, but also donations), but then I remember that I was at various university courses until age 26, then spent longer than a decade after that in regular psychosis which only really went into remission once I wrote my books (and with the trial out of the way), and I remember that, on this account, I’ve simply been too busy/ill. I wish I could help you out more financially. None of my myriad self-employment creative efforts ever sell.

I was shocked by Europe. True, the buildings and statues were awe-inspiring, especially compared with the slum of Britain, but it was simply eye candy, and, when placed in context with the degenerate soullessness of the natives, somehow garish, and totally empty. A decent civilization requires decent quality people. I was surprised more did not comment on your report.

That’s the long-term problem with your site—it’s erudite, and intensely detailed, and high-brow (and challenging both intellectually and ethically) unlike the stale, pop journalist circle-jerk of Unz for example, or the smug hipster pretension of C-C. You know what you get there. I imagine it’s like cocaine to them, their daily slew of bland articles. Ego-stroking prolefeed, to do no more than delay vast numbers, and keep them vegetating in their echo-chamber. I should rephrase: the problem is not your site, it’s that people are idiots. I’m left waiting for the likes of Walsh to get out of prison so they can come back to commenting (although I imagine he’ll be monitored pretty tightly in aftermath).

I re-read your PDF booklet on American racialism recently. I didn’t realise there were so many small NS movements, all highly unsuccessful. It seemed to go in cycles. I noticed that the hardest point is always finding, recruiting, and holding onto people. It’s like NS is on the whole dead, somehow. The British Movement disappointed me terribly recently. It seems I was right—this country has no National Socialist presence. It’s just scores of bourgeois dissident rightists here and there, some with swastika paraphernalia, and fat, football hooligan punks.

I have to go shortly, I have a health appointment. I’ll write more later.

Best regards,

Ben

Categories
Kali Yuga Welfare of animals

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (9)

Munich

2nd May

What I said about Salzburg can also be applied to Munich. This city grew up around a Benedictine monastery. Even the very young Hitler entertained the idea of joining the Benedictines! In fact, Munich means the house or home of the monks.

What I said about nuking the cathedrals and every monument of the Abrahamic religions is no joke. Since what is causing the darkest hour of the West is that the Semitic collective unconscious, and not the Aryan collective unconscious, has taken over our souls, to save us it will be necessary to implement something similar to what Nietzsche called ‘law against Christianity’.

Nietzsche wrote in the 19th century. In our century this law would have to be expanded to consider the whole liberal range, even Wokism, as atheistic hyper-Christianity. And atheists who preach equality will deserve the same treatment as the new Catholic pontiff deserves: to throw them in ropes into the Danube. But back to Munich.

The capital of Bavaria became a kingdom whose monarchy ended in the First World War. Although Hitler loved Munich, there is no monument here honouring the memory of the Man who tried to transvalue Christian values to pre-Christian values.

By bus I passed a canal where they hired a Venetian gondolier for tourists to cross. It is an expensive area much desired by those who can afford it. Munich is the most expensive city in Germany, and it is a university city. A small flat costs €1900 plus expenses such as heating. Although the salary in Germany is €4,000, the government takes a lot from its citizens for social security.

The 1972 Olympics were designed to contrast with the 1936 Olympics: with pastel colours and undulating shapes that contrasted sharply with the red-black-white and geometric shapes of the Third Reich. It was cool that Arab ‘terrorists’ spoiled the party! The police uniforms themselves changed to show the world a feminised face, like a new anti-militarist Germany.

All the Germans I saw looked like cattle of the elites. Their birth rate is very low because their new religion, in the ‘Empire of yin’ imposed on them, is ethnosuicide. The Munich people, unlike Himmler, drink a lot of beer. This is a point I would like to go into a little more in-depth so that the visitor can understand the POV of this site.

You cannot ask people to suddenly abandon their beliefs. That’s why Hitler opted for a gradual erosion of Christianity by educating the youth in the new National Socialist religion. Nor could the masses of Germans be asked to give up their alcoholic habits. But in the upper echelons of power things had to be different: a priesthood of holy words. On a popular level, I am reminded of a scene in Game of Thrones in which the High Sparrow tells Cersei that if he didn’t accept the cup of wine the queen offered him, it wasn’t because he was puritanical, but simply because he didn’t like the taste of wine. Something similar could be said of Himmler, unlike the mass of Germans who lived under the Reich (I too cannot tolerate the taste of beer).

And something similar can be said of Hitler. White nationalists don’t understand NS because it is something that comes straight from what Jung called the Self. If Hitler became a vegetarian it was for the same reasons that Himmler didn’t drink beer: the call of the core of our Being leads psychogenically emergent men not to be involved in the torment of animals. That will never be understood by the American racial right since its members haven’t been ‘touched by the Self’ so to speak.

Unlike Hitler, a true priest of holy words, contemporary Münchner love ham hock with potatoes, ribs and sausages, including white sausage at what they call second breakfast. And unlike Himmler, as I said, they drink a lot of beer. Martin Kerr saw this very clearly when he included this cartoon in his article ‘The National Socialist Lifestyle’:

Here is a picture I took of the Münchner:

In that market there are stalls with sausages, including horse meat. Compare all this Neanderthalism with Hitler’s plan as recorded by Goebbels: if he won the war, the Führer would close down the slaughterhouses. On this point only Savitri Devi understood National Socialism!

Almost every building in Munich was destroyed by bombing. On Maximilian Street, where people like the pot-bellied man in the cartoon above have luxury boutiques, I saw this aberration:

Nearby is the church most beloved by the Münchner. Instead of sacrificing themselves for National Socialism like the soldier in the cartoon above, the lifestyle of these degenerates is abject consumerism. No wonder that in such a city the sin against the Holy Ghost is tolerated, like this thing I saw:

It hurts that, not far from this place, Richard Wagner used to be played.

It is worth saying that, sometime later, I crossed the street of Hitler’s failed putsch who, when he finally took power, didn’t move the NS offices from Munich to Berlin because the Führer loved this city so much. Indeed, Munich had been the birthplace of National Socialism…

Categories
Hate Kali Yuga

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (8)

Salzburg

 

On March 20th I posted the entry ‘Salzburg’ where I said that, due to the town without a white man where I temporarily live, The Sound of Music was a very therapeutic experience. My recent visit to the real Salzburg reversed my feelings in an unusual way. But let’s take it one step at a time…

When I got off the bus, the first thing I did was to photograph some of the buildings I had seen in the film, like the ones you can see in the opening title credits. It didn’t take me long to find out things about the city considered the most beautiful in Austria that I didn’t like.

Deo optimo maximo, abbreviated as DOM, is a Latin phrase that in the ancient world meant ‘for the greatest and best God’ in reference to Jupiter. When Constantine imposed Christianity as the official religion, the phrase took on the same meaning but to refer to the god of the Jews.

In this Salzburg building we can see, if we enlarge the photo, the DOM above the door but it no longer refers to the God of the Aryans, but to the god of the Jews that even many white nationalists still worship. That is the real Salzburg! In fact, there are still monasteries inhabited by monks, theological schools and churches, mostly Catholic in the city.

Mozart is celebrated everywhere here because he was born in Salzburg, but when I had a delicious Fruling Salad (it was asparagus season) at Koller & Koller on Waagplatz, degenerate music was playing inside the restaurant. In that square I photographed a fountain that appeared in a scene I love from The Sound of Music: when Maria, starring Julie Andrews, throws water on the horse after she is thrown out of the convent in song and with great spirit heads for her new home. I took a pic:

There are a couple of confessions in this entry that will surprise the reader. If we set aside the anti-Nazi propaganda of The Sound of Music, that film—which I saw on the big screen sixty years ago!—so beloved by Aryans after so many, many years, is worth more than Mozart’s legacy. Why?

Because, even if Hollywood’s intention was malicious (the anti-Nazi message), The Sound of Music represents, on film, what Maxfield Parrish’s images represent: an ode to the most beautiful specimens of the Aryan race, including children and other characters.

If what moves me to blog is precisely the most beautiful specimens of the race, it is not enough to see them in paintings: the seventh art is capable of portraying them live and in full colour. No wonder that, despite the West’s darkest hour, after six decades this film hasn’t died in the hearts of millions of whites who saw it as children. And it will not die as long as there are whites.

In a previous post I said that the beauty of the artistic buildings of a European city was only the frame, and that the frame is only worthwhile if it contains a good canvas. Well, if we watch this modern video about the locations of The Sound of Music we will discover that, without the beautiful actors, those places have lost their magic.

That is why I am obsessed with preserving the genotype / phenotype of the most beautiful Aryans, like the ones of Parrish or the film: something that is worth more than the music of Mozart or any other classical composer that can be sung by coloureds, as we saw with my bitter experience in Vienna.

The other confession I wanted to make is that this trip reconciled me with my native country and even with the indigenous people where, temporarily, I live. While it is true what Hitler said, that people like me are at a greater psychogenic distance from these Indians than they are from the animal, their presence doesn’t cause me the hatred that the sight of traitorous whites causes me. So if, less than two months ago, in my entry ‘Salzburg’ I tried to visually flee from the town where I write by watching The Sound of Music on my computer, now that I have actually visited the city things are reversed.

In my entry on Hallstatt I said that the world today is, for me, a nightmare. That nightmare means not only being in 21st century Salzburg, where I saw a black man with his baby’s pram, but in the other cities I visited: where it is obvious that the Aryan is committing suicide everywhere.

The Mexican Indians I see as I leave the gated community where I live may be primitive. They may be psychogenically closer to the animal than I am to them. But they aren’t evil people like the Aryans, who after the Second World War have allowed the archetype of the Jewish collective unconscious to take over their souls.

And it all ultimately has to do with the fact that the DOM no longer refers to Zeus / Jupiter, but to the god of the Jews. Is it finally clear why Kalki wants to nuke the cathedrals?

Categories
Beauty

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (7)

Hallstatt

1 May

Leaving Vienna and en route to Salzburg I passed through Hallstatt: famous for being one of the most beautiful villages in the world, in the middle of the Alpine landscape and the Salzburg Lakes area. Before it became a tourist centre, its little houses and alleys dating back to the 16th century were a delight to stroll through.

From the bus, even before reaching Hallstatt, I began to see beautiful, cosy little houses on the side of the road, in stark contrast to the palaces of Vienna, even though winter blankets the whole area with snow. I saw black pines, spruces and extensive pastures. Above were the rocks of the Austrian Alps and snow on some of the mountains.

The problem is that this beautiful village of less than a thousand inhabitants has been bastardised by the masses of non-Aryan tourists. That happens when, instead of loving one’s ethnicity and culture, one becomes a worshipper of Mammon: while these tourists, mostly gooks, leave a lot of money to the town. If Hitler had won the war his descendants wouldn’t allow the hordes of Asians I saw in Hallstatt to ruin the landscape.

Well after midday I walked through the village and found myself sitting in one of the seats in the church we can see in the background in the picture above. Looking back over the dozens of photos I had taken of Hallstatt, I was struck by the fact that I had raised the camera so that not a single coloured tourist appeared! But what I saw, as I noted while still sitting in the church chair, only shows what the Aryan was and what, now, no longer exists. Only its ostentatious monuments and picturesque little corners, such as Hallstatt, remain. But even that will disappear as the Aryan DNA disappears due to the ongoing miscegenation.

These people are a basket case. In church I saw an Aryan family, a man, wife and daughter whose father put a coin in this box:

Several overweight whites I had been seeing in the places I have mentioned in this series, many licking their ice cream like little Joe Bidens. I reiterate: I didn’t enjoy this trip. The spectacle of non-whites, even as tourists in little towns like Hallstatt, offended me to the highest degree: a visual outrage. It reminded me of something Tyrone Joseph Walsh told me, referring to what Revilo Oliver had written: that once a people lose their Lebenskraft, that thirst for life cannot be regained.

May he be wrong! But the truth is that today’s world is, for me, a horrible nightmare from which I cannot wake up.

Categories
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.

____________

[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
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
Energy / peak oil Kali Yuga

Happy fat people

I would like to add something to what I said the day before yesterday about North Korea. I have continued to watch propaganda videos of Americans against this country that practices harsh totalitarianism against its citizens. Yesterday, for example, I was watching this interview of an American with a North Korean woman who escaped from her country as a child and wrote a book that became a bestseller in the US. I abruptly interrupted the interview when the American interviewer confessed that he had a mixed-race daughter with his Asian wife. As old visitors to The West’s Darkest Hour know, we call that the sin against the holy spirit of life: an unforgivable sin that requires the punishment the Visigoths of Hispania meted out to the couple who dared to miscegenate.

In my post the day before yesterday, ‘Synchronicity?’, I linked to an article by Kerry Bolton, who uses slightly different terminology than I did (hard/soft totalitarianism). He talks about totalitarianism that controls its citizens through pain (like North Korea) in contrast to the totalitarian system that controls us through pleasure (like the US). In that post, and I now use the terminology of Yockey’s admirer, I said that a totalitarianism that controls us through pleasure is more effective than the one that controls us through pain, in that its citizens don’t even realise that they are inside a Matrix in the sense that every totalitarian regime imposes a false worldview on its subjects. In North Korea, on the other hand, as the common citizenry suffers from starvation, they surreptitiously watch pirated videos of American films. The aforementioned Korean woman, for example, tells the anecdote that the first foreign film she illegally watched was Titanic.

In other words, North Koreans who suffer and begin to rebel know that there is a society very different from their own, with very different values, and that some of their acquaintances have tried to escape from this totalitarian prison by crossing the border into China. The ordinary westerner, on the other hand, is unaware that he too is in a totalitarian prison: he is as utterly controlled by pleasure as a fish surrounded by water.

Even the white nationalists ignore that they are in a Huxley-like ‘brave new world’. Had they known they would have rebelled not only against their Christian religion that gave rise to it, but against democracy, the Constitution of their founding fathers, so-called human rights (i.e., neochristianity) and what we are taught in the universities, the MSM and social media. They would also have rebelled against this culture of pleasure and would have as their paradigm to emulate Sparta, Republican Rome before Julius Caesar, and of course Hitler’s Germany. Paraphrasing Eduardo Velasco, the contemporary westerner knows no pain, no honour, no blood, no war, no sacrifice, no camaraderie, no respect or combat; and thus he doesn’t know the ancient and gentle Goddesses known as Gloria or Victoria.

And the saddest thing of all is that even racialists won’t begin to wake up until the music stops; that is, until the consequences of the dollar collapse converge with an amplifying energy devolution that will kill proportionately as many humans as North Koreans starve to death under the regime of fat Kim Jong Un.

This guy, by the way, seems to be the only one in that country who overfeeds, as many Americans currently overfeed. (The first time I visited the US the average American was lean; now there is an epidemic of obesity in the culture that controls them through pleasure: not only an excess of available food but porn, promiscuous sex, degenerate cellphones, etc.)

I will not link again to Bolton’s long article, in which he mentions controlling virtually one hundred per cent of the population through pleasure. Serious readers of this site should have already read it.

Categories
Kali Yuga Metaphysics of race / sex

Metaphysics

of Sex

by Julius Evola [1]

In this field, as in every other, our contemporaries have shown no interest in the search for ultimate meanings… The same is mainly true of the writers, past and present, who have dealt with love rather than specifically with sex. For the most part, they have kept to the field of psychology and, within that, to a general analysis of feelings. Even the writings of such authors as Stendhal, Bourget, Balzac, Solovieff, and D.H. Lawrence have little to do with the deepest meaning of sex. [page 1]

Scientists who try to investigate sexuality by studying others rather than themselves are in error, for they cannot approach the depth of the metaphysics of sex… Without this knowledge, man can only take eros to the exalted boarders of the human, of his passion and feeling. Only poetry, lyrics, and idealized romanticism are created, while everything else is eradicated. [page 2]

…men and women belonging to a phase of civilization oriented toward materialism… In this, as in all other spheres, statistics are worthless. Such criterion can be left to the trivial methods of Kinsey. [page 3]

The problem is subjective… Furthermore, papers on sexological research with scientific pretentions are in general ludicrously incompetent; for here firsthand understanding of the experience is the sine qua non. [pages 4-5]
 

Sex in the world today

Women is presented in a thousand forms to attract man and stupefy him sexually. [page 6]

Tolstoy once had occasion to say to Gorki: “For the French a woman comes before anything else. They are a weak, degraded people. Doctors say that all consumptives are sensual.” If we leave the French aside, it remains true that a universal and feverish interest in sex and woman is the mark of every twilight period and that this phenomenon today is among the many signs that this epoch is the terminal phase of a regressive process. Classical antiquity formulated an analogy with the human organism: In man, the head, the breast, and the lower parts of the body correspond respectively to the seats of intellectual life, of spiritual and heroic courage, and finally of nourshiment and sex. Corresponding to this are three human types and, we may add, three types of civilization. It is clear that today by regression we are living in a civilization whose predominant interest is neither intellectual, spiritual, nor heroic, nor even directed to the higher forms of emotion. Rather the subpersonal—sex and the belly—are idolized; and therefore the unfortunate saying of a poet may become a reality: Hunger and love will shape history. Hunger is the chief cause of social disaster and economic strife. The emphasis given to woman, love, and sex is counterpart.

Further evidence is provided by the ancient Hindu tradition of the four ages of the world in Tantric formulation. A fundamental characteristic of the last or so-called Dark Age (Kali Yuga) is the awakening and ultimate dominance of Kali, who stamps the epoch with her sign…

This study will highlight the opposition of the metaphysics of sex to established, conventional viewpoints, and this contrast will make even more apparent the inner fall of modern man. [pages 7-8]
 

_____________

[1] Excerpts from the Introduction of The Metaphysics of Sex (NY: Inner Traditions International, 1983).

Categories
Arthur C. Clarke Pederasty

Clarke

Arthur Clarke before moving to Sri Lanka.

One way of probing how much we have matured in life is to take our former idols down from their pedestals.

As I explain in my autobiography, seeing 2001: A Space Odyssey on the big screen at ten was a transformative experience. In later years I would become a huge fan of Arthur C. Clarke, who under Kubrick’s direction wrote the novel of the same title. In my twenties I would read Clarke’s Childhood’s End: a novel that would greatly influence my worldview. I even corresponded with Clarke. His typewriter letters I showed, incidentally, to the commenter who visited me last month. But now, after taking my vows on the sacred words, I see Clarke as a failed creature and would like to explain why.

The first disillusionment with Clarke occurred when I was living in Houston. I never understood why Clarke had spent most of his life in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon. In a bookstore, I saw that Neil McAleer’s biography of Clarke had just been published. I rushed to buy it. Since I put dates on every chapter I read, I know that it was 8 May 1996 when I underlined these paragraphs on page 291:

Clarke knew this unique travelling educational program had great value for students; he believed in it enough to give a scholarship for one student. Says Lloyd Lewan, ‘I remember sitting with him at breakfast one time saying, “Arthur, we have a terrible time coming up with funds to put minorities on the ship.” Of course he wanted to help. The result was he gave us a full scholarship for a minority student—a black woman student from the University of Pittsburgh. He paid for it completely.’

On the first page of my copy of that book, I noted that Clarke had paid a scholarship to that negress instead of paying it to someone like us (someone who would bring the ideals of the movie 2001 into the real world)!

In the third book of my trilogy I talk about who motivated me to love 2001: my father, an uncle and the work of Kubrick and Clarke. In a very brief chapter I note that all of them had betrayed the ideals of my favourite film. Kubrick showed his true Jewish colours after 2001 when he filmed a monstrosity that was released in 1971 (an ultra-violent movie that, fortunately, was banned for many years in the UK, where Kubrick lived). Of my father and uncle I don’t want to talk because they already appear in my autobiography. But about Clarke, I must say a few things.

Yesterday I saw this video by Rob Ager, a film critic, about Clarke’s personal life. Ager lists newspapers claiming that Clarke emigrated to Sri Lanka to have legal sex with Indian teenagers (pederasty is not a crime there). I had already heard these rumours but the amount of evidence that Ager collects is compelling, and motivates me to see my former idol in a different light.

Greco-Roman pederasty, which I’ve discussed on this site—not the optimal form of sexuality, obviously! (though I don’t condemn it)—is one thing. But having sex with Indians is quite another. Such behaviour from someone I used to consider an inspiration disturbs me deeply. Since the early 1980s, the trips I have made to the UK were intended to meet English women, since to my eyes English roses are the most beautiful girls on earth. How a notable Englishman could be incapable of seeing such beauty and go and fuck on the other side of the world with coloureds is an affront to my religion (2001 for example, filmed in England, boasts a couple of very good-looking English actors, a man and a woman).

I know some people say that human beauty is in the eye that sees it, but something inside tells me it is something fairly objective: something like the teleological goal of our universe. When someone I admire is unable to see what I see it disturbs me very deeply, especially if he is an Englishman. Worse, instead of falling in love with an English rose, Clarke became infatuated with his landlord’s son!, as is evident from pages 277-278 of Neil McAleer’s Arthur C. Clarke: The Authorized Biography. When the young Indian died in a motorbike accident, comments an eyewitness, Clarke ‘cried like a baby at the grave and told me, “This is where I will be buried, next to Leslie.” Clarke later named his big house on Barnes Place ‘Leslie´s House’ in memory of his ‘only perfect friend of a lifetime…’

Of course, when I read the book, the authorised biography of Clarke, McAleer didn’t speak openly of pederasty. My disappointment wasn’t complete. Now it is. To go halfway around the world and end up falling in love with a male Indian instead of staying in England and procreating with a beautiful rose, and to boot paying for the career of a young negress, is the ultimate betrayal.

Clarke’s life (1917-2008) is a perfect example of how someone who was born into a very favourable environment, and wrote good science-fiction in the late 1940s—when English values hadn’t yet been grotesquely inverted—, gradually degenerated into a racial traitor. His life is paradigmatic for understanding the West’s dark hour after 1945.