There is something I would like to say about a commenter on this last day of the year.
Exactly four years ago Irrelevant Nobody (I.N.) posted a comment that impressed me so much that I later cited it as an important entry. On 31 December the following year I.N. did the same: a comment also promoted as a special entry. He was one of the commenters to whom I dedicated in this now-dying year an entry in ‘On commenters of WDH’, where I mentioned that I.N. had sent me an email telling me that he was planning to commit suicide.
Sometime later he sent me another email telling me that he hadn’t committed suicide yet but had postponed that plan, and I have not received any more emails from this European, although I confess I haven’t written to him either.
It is not the first or the last time I have noticed that those who say the most lucid things have had mental health problems. It reminds me of what I wrote about my sister Corina in my books on my family, which I have promised myself I will start translating tomorrow. The chiaroscuros of the only honourable member of my family (may she rest in peace) were striking: enormous psychic insight and then dense darkness!
But in fairness to my sister and to commenters who have struggled with mental issues, we must concede that the entire West is in a state of madness at present. As far as the country that since 1945 has captained the West is concerned, on Saturday I mentioned some horrible murders. And yesterday I saw another YouTube video of an American who had decapitated his mother, and put her head in a bag which he left in a stranger’s truck.
I am convinced that to understand the folie en masse suffered by the West, it is imperative to understand the trauma model of mental disorders (which is why tomorrow, the first day of 2025, I will begin the formal translation of my trilogy). This is a model that is never taught in universities because Big Pharma dominates not only the psychiatric profession, but ideologically wields considerable influence in the faculties where clinical psychology is taught. The power of corporations today is such that we can only understand it if we compare it to the power that the Church wielded in the Middle Ages.
The last of my three autobiographical books, which I finished this year.
I hope that I.N. has survived his suicidal depression. I advised him to write his own trilogy (which made me see the light) and that he will return to his habit of commenting here on the last day of each year…
I haven’t finished what I said yesterday in ‘Emergency’: a word I put in inverted commas because what I mean is an emergent condition of the human soul, in the sense of developing great compassion for animals tormented by those I call Neanderthals, as well as a religious attraction to great art (virtues Adolf Hitler had).
These days I have reached my financial nadir. I have never been in such need of funds as I am now. And of course: it’s all related to my radical worldview.
Since Lulu Press de-platformed my account of our books in English, a very important source of income for me collapsed almost to zero insofar as almost nobody buys my books in Spanish.
True, two generous sponsors give me a fixed monthly amount and have done so regularly for some time now. If I had more sponsors I could cover my expenses.
In the last few days I’ve basically been interacting only with Benjamin. Why?
He has confessed in several threads of this site to the abuse he suffered at home as a child and the psychological havoc that abuse wreaked as a teenager. This is similar to what another commenter has confessed, Joseph Walsh, who is now serving a seven-year sentence in the UK for thoughtcrime. The difference between these two Englishmen, Joseph and Benjamin, is that the former was seduced by the dark side by admiring Charles Manson, while the latter tries to cure himself by staying on the light side, as he has also confessed on this site by reading the authors of the trauma model of mental disorders and also those who refute the pseudo-scientific medical model of those disorders.
In previous years there have been other smart commenters who sometimes hinted that they too had been abused. But their testimonies were only a glimpse of what could have happened: they didn’t speak out. I am convinced that chronic neuroses and even psychoses are directly proportional to burying the traumatic past without having processed it properly. It is precisely because of this universal tendency to repress that past that some fall to the dark side. If those who were tormented as children or adolescents were able to say it all, in an orderly way in lyrically polished texts, they wouldn’t have psychiatric symptoms nor would they be in jail. But that is the work of the gods because if there is one thing that hurts horrendously, it is precisely remembering the psychic tortures to which our crazed parents, and their sold-out psychiatrists, subjected us when our tender age prevented us from fleeing such hellish homes.
Lágrimas (Tears, the last book of my trilogy).
What is all this about what I was saying yesterday, the discrepancy between National Socialism and white nationalism? I have noticed that only those of us who have been so horribly beaten by life that we couldn’t lead normal lives have been able to embrace the National Socialist cause to the extent of rebelling against Christian ethics and atheistic hyper-Christianity. I think that’s why I don’t get the donations that white nationalist sites get. If adolescent suffering didn’t reach the levels it did in the lives of Joseph, Benjamin and myself, why pick a fight with society to the extent of transvaluing all its values?
Virtually all whites suffer from a universal trance: the trance of believing that Hitler was the bad guy of the 20th century (in reality, he was the noblest politician in all of Western history). Those of us who observe the herd mentality, that collective hypnosis that is now being called ‘mass formation’, know that it can only be broken if the System crucified you (as it crucified Joseph, Benjamin and myself). Otherwise one simply falls into the trance of the herd. In other words, of the commenters who have commented here, I know of no one who has been treated fairly by family and society and rebelled against the demonisation of National Socialism. Even Tom Goodrich, the author of Hellstorm, has confessed publicly that he was abused as a child (in his case, sexually abused).
My existential problem is that once I can see that many families murder the souls of their children with the help of so-called mental health professionals (as Jeffrey Masson rightly saw, any therapeutic intervention paid for by the abusive parents themselves is iatrogenic), I am also able to see other social lies. But the vast majority of racialists have not suffered hell caused by their parents and the psychiatrists hired by them (‘licensed slanderers’ the late Thomas Szasz used to call these child psychiatrists). If my observation is correct, that only the crucified ones can be ideologically resurrected, I will be condemned to monologue on this blog until the convergence of catastrophes that will unfold in this century starts to awaken some Aryans—if they awaken!
It’s a terrible situation, but I don’t think it admits another interpretation. The alternative interpretation would be that I am completely deluded and that the Christian question is in no way more serious than the Jewish question. But as I have already said in another article this month, if that is true white nationalists have been unwilling to argue this point on solid grounds. They simply ignore us.
Given that what I get in donations cannot pay all my bills, the easiest thing to do would be to give up The West’s Darkest Hour. But I won’t. I am like the proverbial Roman soldier who didn’t abandon his post even when the war was already lost.
These days, I am making final corrections to my trilogy before continuing the English translation, which, barring an accident*, I intend to devote myself to in earnest from next year onwards. It seems that commenter Benjamin is the only one who is paying attention to this aspect of my work: how maddening parents drive their children’s mad!
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(*) Ever since my younger sister died of what was apparently a sudden heart attack, I’ve been very alert to the fact that this can happen to any of us in unpredictable ways, so I urgently need to find someone to take care of this site if something similar to what happened to Corina were to happen to me (remember that when Eduardo Velasco passed away, his Evropa Soberana site disappeared after a while). I don’t mean that the custodian will add new entries if I should have a heart attack, but that he will continue to pay my hosting provider if something should happen to me.
In the comments section, the day before yesterday I complained that visitors don’t understand the value of studying the issue of child abuse and psychohistory, which studies its psychological consequences. I want to clarify the point.
Twenty years ago, in the Spanish newspaper El País, Alice Miller wrote something that made my mind fly to my mother’s behaviour (my translation): ‘Where does this repressed rage come from, this need to torment, humiliate, mock and mistreat defenceless human beings (prisoners and children alike)?’ Then Miller answers her question, it comes from poisonous pedagogy: ‘Children and adolescents can be beaten, humiliated and sometimes subjected to the clearest sadism without any legal consequences. Such treatment is tantamount to real torture. But it is not called that’.
Now grown up, this once-beaten girl, who buried her rage for years, begins to take it out on her children, repeating the cycle.
The confessions of Tyrone Patten-Walsh (Joseph Walsh was the name he used on this site), now serving a seven-year sentence for thoughtcrime in the UK, are paradigmatic in showing why we should know Miller’s work as well as psychohistory.
In a comment on The Unz Review that Walsh later deleted, because he posted it before his sentencing earlier this year and was still hoping to be declared non-guilty, he confessed:
I’ve already suffered immensely since I was 17 when I was incarcerated in a mental institute for ‘mental illness’. I’m used to suffering and I don’t expect mercy from life. Life shows little to no mercy to certain people. Consequently I have become merciless. In fact I’ve come to love the suffering and evil of this planet. As long as humans are suffering, justice is being done, that’s what I say. From my teenage years I’ve been obsessed with Satan, Hitler, Charles Manson, Evil, crime, serial killers, etc.
Walsh’s guilt-by-association looks more like a Hollywood Hitler than the historical Hitler! Remember that in my critical article ‘On commenters of The West’s Darkest Hour’ another Englishman was also a fan of Charles Manson. German National Socialists of the previous century wouldn’t even understand how some Anglo-Saxon racialists could be fans of Masson, Satanism or, openly, Evil as Walsh confesses. He adds:
If I go to prison I imagine I should feel right at home. It’s part of being a revolutionary, an outlaw. When I was younger the British state termed my thoughts and words ‘insane’, now my words and thoughts are ‘illegal’ haha. I’ve been termed bipolar, schizoaffective, autistic, Asperger, a terrorist, far right etc. by the usual psychological ‘experts’. I’m sure you can imagine my life’s story Dr Morgan. It’s the same story lived by thousands of other ‘dangerous males’ all across the West.
Yes: Walsh was a martyred teenager by the System. But he didn’t know how to process his abysmal pain. Although when I met him in London he said things that I thought were the most lucid I have ever heard about Aryan ethnosuicide, he followed a very different path from mine (I too had been martyred by my parents). Walsh’s comment to his pal Robert Morgan ends with these words:
I’ll finish with an amusing anecdote. Ten years ago Carolyn Yeager interviewed Tom Metzger and Metzger was talking about the Jews’ collective will to power. Carolyn asked Metzger “Where’s our will to power?” and Metzger paused for a split second then said “They’re all in prison”. Yeager was appalled by Terrible Tommy’s statement and said “Oh, come on”. I wouldn’t have expected her to understand but Metzger certainly did, lol. Thanks for your words of support anyway.
I would put it differently.
When Hitler was triumphing in Europe Carl Jung said that there were two collective unconsciouses: the Jewish collective unconscious and the Aryan collective unconscious. Unfortunately, the Aryan is prey to the former.
For those who are prey to the Judeo-Christian collective unconscious, the interview with Tom Holland that I embedded yesterday is a splendid opportunity to understand what’s going on in our little heads. Such an insight is opposite to Hollywood Nazis admiring Masson, Satan or idealising prison. Today’s prisons are hellish compared to Hitler’s incarceration after the Putsch, as we saw recently in that passage from Brendan Simms’ biography. The Landsberg prison was a five-star hotel compared to the prison Walsh and his friend Chris Gibbons, whom I also met, are now suffering.
Incidentally, recently the Greek man who told me he was going to commit suicide, also mentioned in ‘On commenters of The West’s Darkest Hour’, sent me an email confessing that he hadn’t done it! I suggested that he write his most painful memoirs, as I did in my autobiographical books, in pursuit of the only therapy that saved me. I don’t know if he will follow my advice but another commenter on this site, also committed like Walsh to a mental hospital for a while, has begun to write his memoirs.
More on how the most abusive parents undermine the mental health of the child can be found in my book Day of Wrath, the PDF of which is linked in the featured post.
Have any visitors to this site heard of an autobiographer, of our times or times past, who has written a philosophical autobiography, in several books, about how his or her parents and other adults destroyed the life of the autobiographer in question?
What distinguishes The West’s Darkest Hour from other racialist sites is that here we preach an open and blatant exterminationist ideology (see, for example, ‘Dies Irae’, the first article in my Day of Wrath compilation). What is not clear to the ordinary visitor, unless someone has read my trilogy, is that such exterminationism originated precisely after what several crazed adults did to me in my adolescence.
The mind changes dramatically after experiences like the one I suffered. It usually changes producing, in the already adult victim, a mental disorder: either psychoses such as so-called schizophrenia or suicidal depression, or neuroses such as addictions (alcoholism, drug addictions—even legal psychotropics, etc.). In the most serious cases, the victim of maddening parents feels compelled to commit serial murder. This is not said by ordinary psychiatrists, who subscribe to the medical model of mental disorders (a bio-reductionist ideology), but by dissident psychiatrists: those who try to create a trauma model of mental disorders.
Some proponents of the trauma model know that those who had schizogenic (i.e., maddening) parents entered, to paraphrase the gospel, through the ‘wide door’. Sadly, 99.99 per cent of those with schizogenic parents enter through the wide door. What these professionals ignore is that there is another door, ‘the narrow door’, which circumvents psychosis. I am talking about spending decades of your life telling your story, at least to yourself, with an emphasis on the most painful episodes.
These days, for example, I have been reviewing my second volume. It has been so disturbing to relive my early experiences, and what my mother used to do to me, that I have had to make an enormous effort, plus countless pauses, to resume over and over again both rereading and revising (i.e. adding or rewriting many sentences and even paragraphs). To tell yourself your own story, through a good deal of re-reading of what has already been written, and to improve the text in further revisions to leave the original charcoal in diamond prose after so many decades, is what heals the mortally wounded soul.
Someone might reproach me that the mere fact of elaborating an exterminationist ideology after my experiences is, in itself, a psychopathological symptom. I believe that the opposite is true: those who don’t subscribe to such an ideology contribute to what we could call ‘Hell Planet’—our present Earth. This is because without the spirit of Kalki the evil of the earthlings will continue unchallenged, producing endless unnecessary suffering. (Those who want to delve deeper into the matter will have to familiarise themselves with the philosophy of Savitri Devi, who in the darkest hour of the West invokes the exterminationist archetype of the Hindu religion: Kalki.)
One of the things that so-called mental health professionals ignore is that they shouldn’t put the exterminationism of, say, a philosopher like Arthur Schopenhauer in the same basket as, say, a serial killer like Jeffrey Dahmer. They are not only different things, but Schopenhauer himself may have a moral code infinitely superior not only to that of Dahmer but also to that of the so-called mental health professional. This is something that the pseudo-scientists working in the mental health sector will never acknowledge: that philosophers like Schopenhauer could be… saner than them! Above I spoke of the first essay in my book Day of Wrath. To understand what I have in mind see now the third essay, ‘Unfalsifiability in Psychiatry’ (pages 21-30).
So for the next days and weeks, I will keep revising my second autobiographical book until I feel that the textual coal has turned into more lyrical prose. My thoughts must be hardened until they are as hard as diamonds. The saying ‘No pain, no gain!’ applies perfectly to the spiritual realm. Without the agony of constantly confronting my past, I would be as our friend Joseph Walsh is: in jail and before that, in a psychiatric ward (Walsh also had a schizogenic mother). Those who don’t process their pain through writing their very painful memoirs, and throughout the decades correcting the syntax of that original charcoal until the diamond prose is formed, will never heal.
No one among the racialist forums editors comes from where I come from: a sort of Bran the Broken seeing Westeros’ past because his dad (not Jaime) threw him off the tower, breaking his spine. As I was saying, the mind changes radically after decades of being in the cave retrocognitively seeing the past, what your dad did to you. Those broken lads who fail to reach Bran’s cave change for the worse (schizophrenia, etc.). But I changed for the better because I found it.
And it was precisely because of that change that I became interested in the real history of Europe in the century in which I was born; specifically, the real history of the Third Reich. By seeing my past as it happened, which has nothing to do with the distorted version my crazy mother told, I developed the knack of seeing, now, the historical past of the West as it happened, not as the Jewish media told it to us.
One way to begin to familiarise oneself with the most notable characters of the Third Reich is to read David Irving’s books. So, in parallel with my posts citing Brendan Simms’ and Savitri Devi’s books on Hitler, I think I will resume reading True Himmler which I had neglected since last year.
Anyone who wants to read my previous True Himmler entries can do so here, here, here and here.
In the comments section of my article ‘The Failed Oswald’, on Tuesday I said something that I now quote again, slightly modified. I wrote that I recently acquired two books on the subject of conspiracy theories, one by a couple of Americans and another by a European:
Both are flawed precisely because their authors are normies. And normies are incapable of seeing the ultimate truth. However, if I dabble in the subject of conspiracy theories it is because, for a dozen years now, I have been dismayed that many on the racial right subscribe to theories which, in my opinion, are like a Vampire sucking the sap from the dissident: who should devote his efforts to developing National Socialism to an evolved, post-1945 NS (cf. what I wrote about Savitri Devi’s magnum opus yesterday).
This said, there is some value in the books pictured above: It is the proles who have no say in the spheres of power who weave these conspiratorial cobwebs. What strikes me is that intelligent people like Chris Martenson are now spinning these kinds of webs regarding the failed Oswald (Thomas Matthew Crooks) while less intelligent people, like those who listened to the Secret Service at the Capitol Hill hearings on Tuesday, are far more sceptical of conspiracy theories.
The powerless are the ones who weave cobwebs in a representative democracy. If demography collapses significantly in an apocalyptic scenario and Aryan man was to return to direct democracy as in ancient Greece, it would be much easier to circumvent these webs where the proles are presently entangled. The subject is complex, and the normie authors of the American book pictured above at least did their statistical work on those who believe in conspiracy theories.
As regular visitors to this site will know, I discovered white nationalism at a late age: after I had been in this world for half a century. My previous intellectual work was focused on the psychic ravages of parental abuse of children.
One of the psychological fallacies mentioned in the books above is that, to the simplistic mindset of the proles, an act of enormous political and social repercussions cannot have a prosaic explanation (Oswald). There has to be a massive conspiracy of very powerful people who had a grudge against JFK. That, of course, is a ‘psychological fallacy’ and those not versed in how the mind of someone who was severely abused as a child or adolescent by their parents works might read The Gunman and His Mother: Lee Harvey Oswald, Marguerite Oswald, and the Making of an Assassin.
It’s hard to imagine how a mother could torment a child so much that, now grown up, he becomes an Oswald. But now that I am revising my autobiographical books for translation into English, I have to pause for a week because the other day I went through my mother’s entire diary, quoted in toto in the second book of my trilogy: a diary so disturbing that I have to take long breaks, even though decades have passed since she wrote it.
Someone like me can understand Oswald, or Thomas Matthew Crooks who suffered massive bullying at school. But anyone who hasn’t been treated so badly by life can’t even imagine it.
Although reading books is a serious way to delve into the matter, not everyone who has rejected the conspiratorial nonsense believed by the proles will do so. If The Gunman and His Mother won’t be on the shelves of those who delve into the JFK assassination, they might at least check out this audiovisual interview with Paul Gregory by Peter Robinson, the host of Uncommon Knowledge. Gregory dealt directly with Oswald and in his recent book debunks the wide range of conspiracy theories about the assassination by demonstrating that Oswald acted alone.
Nietzsche’s guesthouse in Via Carlo Alberto, Turin.
In the first entry of this series, I said that the article by Robert Sheaffer that I first read in 1993 had motivated me to reopen the Nietzsche case, insofar as I consider it central to the point of view of The West’s Darkest Hour. And as I said at the end of the previous entry, once one discovers the primary cause of Aryan decline, everyone else seems idiotic to us, just as the boy who saw the naked king found the adults around him incredibly idiotic.
Becoming like the child of the story represents a huge problem for the adult visionary. ‘Running towards the sun’—Nietzsche’s poetic words to describe himself—in search of ultimate truth results in the visionary being charred, moth-like, as he approaches the primary source of light. No one has described Nietzsche’s dazzling charring better than Stefan Zweig, excerpts from whose book The Struggle with the Daimon I posted more than a decade ago, here.
While I was harsh on Nietzsche in criticising what I call in my autobiography ‘idiotic defence mechanisms’, albeit in his case referring to the eternal return of the identical, I am happy to point out that with The Antichrist this mechanism disappears. Nietzsche himself, in a letter to Franz Overbeck, had acknowledged in April 1884 that his Zarathustra was an ‘anteroom’ and that he was going to spend the next years of his life on ‘the development of my philosophy’.
In The Antichrist, both Zarathustra and the eternal return disappear. Zarathustra would only reappear in his poem Dionysian Dithyrambs, but it is very significant that by this time in December 1888, Nietzsche had already lost his self, and the very title of the first poem of that collection of nine poems to Dionysus is entitled ‘Only Mad! Only Poet!’
That the cause of Nietzsche’s madness was unknown to the doctors who treated him is clear from a letter to Peter Gast of 29 September 1904 written by Otto Binswanger, the director of the Psychiatric Clinic in Jena, where Nietzsche was interned for some months: ‘No one will be able to write an exact medical history of Friedrich Nietzsche’, Binswanger asserted, ‘since the beginnings of the illness have not been fully established’.
Why, then, the mania of the last decades to see the aetiology of Nietzsche’s disorder as a somatic disease? Tip: it is part of Big Pharma’s propaganda to sell us their damned drugs from the 1950s onwards. And the same can be said of those who have written about Vincent van Gogh, who would also be temporarily committed to a psychiatric ward. A better approach to the tragedy of both simultaneous cases can be found in the last words of the third volume of Curt Paul Janz’s extensive biographical study of Nietzsche:
The indulgent veil of mental derangement meant that he no longer had to be aware of it. It gave him something else: the tremendum of the genius chord. Without this ending, the fascination that his entire philosophy exerts on the history of philosophy, which places him close to the heroic-tragic end of Socrates—that Socrates whose rival (at least as much) he wanted to be—would certainly be lacking. But, in Nietzsche, it is not only about the end. His whole existence was a martyrdom. And this opens up for him the connection… with a great community. It means the way from the loneliness so badly endured to belonging to the community of the martyrs of the spirit that is far greater than one is usually willing to admit.
This last sentence has been with me for a long time since a Spanish girlfriend gave me Janz’s book as a present in March 1992, when I was living in Barcelona.
Already in January 1889, Nietzsche sent his incredible missives to several characters, including Franz Overbeck. When Overbeck arrived at the Via Carlo Alberto guesthouse in Turin on 8 January 1889 to rescue his friend, he found him completely mad and ‘surrounded by papers’. After returning Nietzsche to his native Germany, Overbeck took the papers back to Basel and among them, he found the manuscript of The Antichrist, carefully wrapped in a folio. By saving this book, Overbeck saved the key to Nietzsche’s thought. Overbeck wrote to Peter Gast, asking him which works Nietzsche had left unfinished; Gast wrote back and, by return of post, Overbeck replied as follows in February 1889:
Of the Transvaluation of All Values, in particular, there is only the first book, also wrapped in a white folio, with the title:
The Antichrist
Transvaluation of All Values
The second line is crossed out and replaced by the words ‘Curse on Christianity’.
Five weeks later, after reading the work, Overbeck sent Gast another letter, in which he says: ‘In particular, Nietzsche’s conception of Christianity seems to me to be too political, so to speak’. Overbeck wrote that line in criticism, but that is exactly what, 130 years later, David Skrbina would conclude in The Jesus Hoax: that Christianity was originally a political manoeuvre of the Jews against Rome!
It is clear from the correspondence between Overbeck, the first reader of The Antichrist and Gast that, as Nietzsche neared his end, his ideas about his work changed completely. The Transvaluation of All Values had been intended as a four-volume work, of which The Antichrist would have been the first. But Nietzsche himself wrote to George Brandes at the beginning of December 1888: ‘In three weeks I shall give orders for the printing of The Antichrist: Transvaluation of All Values’. In other words, once he had finished The Antichrist Nietzsche decided to burn the midnight oil, and what had been the first part of the work was transformed in its entirety.
A month after his letter to the Jew Brandes, Nietzsche had already carbonised himself internally, writing letters such as ‘to shoot the German emperor and all anti-Semites’. Andrés Sánchez Pascual says that despite the psychotic breakdown, ‘at that moment Nietzsche makes a totally lucid and consistent decision: he crossed out the subtitle “Transvaluation of all values” and under it, he writes the following: “Curse on Christianity”.’
Alas, because Nietzsche lost his mind he didn’t send the manuscript to his publisher, as planned. When, not long afterwards, the manuscript of The Antichrist fell into Elisabeth’s hands, she mutilated not only the subtitle but the climax of the book—the final page—when she published it in 1895! Had her brother not become disturbed, the original version that Overbeck found ready for the press would have been published as early as 1889, after Twilight of the Idols. It was not until Elisabeth died well into the 20th century that all the manuscripts of the Nietzsche Archive were made freely available to researchers.
In 1961, seventy-three years after the work was written, Erich Podach published a landmark book on Nietzschean editions. He showed that The Antichrist had undergone mutilations in addition to those already known, and made known for the first time the ‘Law against Christianity’.
By 1964, what appears to be the definitive edition of Nietzsche’s entire works was underway. Directed by the Italians Giorgio Colli and Mazzino Montinari, it was published simultaneously in German, Italian and French. The following decade I was to benefit from the Spanish translation of The Antichrist as Nietzsche had left the manuscript carefully wrapped in a white folio, translated by Andrés Sánchez Pascual.
Sánchez Pascual tells us that this work ‘is the most coherent conclusion, the necessary conclusion, of his entire mental path. If Nietzsche’s thought does not lead to The Antichrist, it leads nowhere’. And he adds that to remain in his previous texts and ‘not to advance to The Antichrist is, quite simply, not to dare to look Nietzsche in the eye’.
While it is true that Nietzsche was unable to detect the Jewish subversion that many in the 19th century could already detect, he was able to see, like no other, the subversion that had come from Judaism through Christianity. As Stefan Zweig wrote in the most lyrical essay ever written on the plummeting of the anguished eagle:
Nietzsche came to see that the malevolent thing was Christianity with its belief in a life beyond the tomb; that this was the principle which cast a shadow upon the modern world. ‘Evil-smelling Judaism, a compost of rabbinism and superstition’, had ruined and supressed the sensuality and merriment of the world. For fifty generations it had served to dope and demoralise mankind, to paralyse all that had previously constituted the vital force of the universe. But now (and suddenly he sees the mission of his life) a crusade against the Cross must begin to reconquer the holy places of man’s realm and existence upon this earth.
By embarking on a crusade, Nietzsche underwent the most radical change of his life from 1880 onwards. The previous year he had turned thirty-five, and he had always had the superstition that he would go into a mental tailspin just as his father had gone at the age of thirty-six.
Nietzsche was a little-known author: a marginal figure considered talented, but too eccentric for German speakers. But he discovered that it was precisely in the most painful periods of his existence that his philosophical productivity increased: what we now call a psychological defence mechanism. By way of super-compensation for what was happening to him, he began to believe that he needed to leave for posterity an epoch-making legacy now that the Judeo-Christian god was dead.
These were the times when Cosima had decided that Nietzsche had committed a sin against the Holy Ghost, i.e. that he couldn’t be forgiven, and when Peter Gast wrote from Venice that he had to guide his friend Nietzsche through the streets like a blind man. Headaches continued to ravage him. Nietzsche himself wrote: ‘On five occasions I pleaded, as a doctor, for death’.
He sought refuge in the high mountains. He had to search long and hard before he found a suitable place: Sils im Engadin/Segl, also known as Sils-Maria, in the Swiss canton of Graubünden: whose name will henceforth be inseparably linked to his own because of the time he spent there, despite the terrible fatigue that such a journey entailed for a half-blind. At 1,830 metres above sea level, Sils-Maria was sometimes snowy and cold even in the middle of summer, and Nietzsche had to endure something that he found fatal: many storms. It is curious that he later he researched in Genoa where there might be an ideal place without clouds and storms—Nietzsche couldn’t bear an eternally cloudy sky—and even entertained the idea of moving to Oaxaca in Mexico for its clear, cloudless skies and the sun he longed for.
To his only apostle at this point, Peter Gast, Nietzsche wrote: ‘There is nothing that can make up for the loss, in recent years, of Wagner’s sympathy for me. How often I dream of him, and always in our comforting meetings!’ He had been abandoned by all his friends, who could no longer tolerate the freedom of his thought, the new viewpoint of the eagle who looked down on Europe from on high. Only the faithful Peter Gast was left to him.
As I have said, Nietzsche was a man against his time: a fact he could never digest and he spewed it out in his somatic attacks. That was why, like a wayward defence mechanism, with open arms he accepted the pain and sang his hymn of saying ‘yes’ to life. If he discovered that his illness served as a sting to his philosophising and that it was thanks to it that he left Basel, then the disease with its birth pains freed him so that his Zarathustra could be born. ‘Only pain gives knowledge’, he intones in poetic prose. ‘Only pain liberates the spirit, only pain forces us to descend into the depths of our being’.
A martyr by contraries, he was not put to the torture because of a faith which had already become established in his mind. No, it was out of torment, it was when he was upon the rack, that he formulated his creed… Thus he ran over and over again to the fiery whirlwind of pain and submits to the torments so as to recapture ‘the enchanting sensation of good health’.
No sooner had he grasped the meaning of his illness and enjoyed the voluptuous delight of health than he wished to transform it into an apostolate… He desired further and more agonizing martyrdom… and in the excess of his enthusiasm… he goes out raising that flag without realising that it is the one that, at the same time, draws the bow that is going to shoot him the deadly arrow.
But the philosophy of Amor fati was deceptive magic for an eagle that sees everything! I have already said so on this site when trying to communicate with a racialist whom I treated one week in London (a young man who had previously been committed to a mental institution and is now serving a prison sentence).
If we look at Nietzsche’s life not as today’s bio-reductionists want to see it, but as the all-too-human human he was, we will see that with the fall that really happened to him—though not in his 36th year but in his 44th—we come upon a fact. With madness his ills disappeared, so I deduce that they were psychosomatic. Nietzsche himself had used, in speaking of himself, the metaphor of a machine that was about to explode: something that undoubtedly referred to his future insanity.
Werner Ross tells us in his biography: ‘Insanity, therefore, is no longer an organic disease’. It was something almost premeditated in pursuit of a posthumous resurrection I would dare to add, so that the man against his time would miraculously become, after the psychotic outbreak, a man of his time.
In today’s Aryan collective unconscious, the extremely negative introjects and injunctions from a toxified superego are ultimately due to Christianity.
______ 卐 ______
There is jargon above but it can be deciphered after reading the middle part of my Day of Wrath. Ayway, it summarises what we mean when talking about the Christian question.
One of the problems in communicating new ideas lies in what we might call paronyms. The word ‘Hitler’ for example is a paronym because when I use it I refer to, let’s say, what I have been quoting from Simms’ book and my views on it. If I use the word ‘Hitler’ with a normie, he automatically understands something very different: the Hitler of propaganda.
Another great example is the word ‘Jesus’. When I use the word ‘Jesus’ I mean the fictitious character from the devious pen of the Jew Saul (Paul), a character to whom, when the Romans destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem, another Jew, Mark, added anecdotes of his own invention. But for the normie, the word ‘Jesus’ means something quite different. Christians believe that ‘Jesus’ is the incarnation of the god of the Jews who came down to save us and, although atheists don’t believe that, many are under the impression that he existed as an ordinary man.
Something similar happens with the word ‘autobiography’. Yesterday’s trollish comment prompts me to clarify something.
The word ‘autobiography’ means, to me, something very different from what it means to ordinary people. Let’s suppose that a reader holds my book Hojas Sususrrantes in his hands and out of its five chapters decides to read the second and fourth chapters. He would be surprised to notice that almost the entire content of those chapters is a debunking of the mental health professions and a presentation of psychohistory, where my life is almost absent (see for example my translation of the fourth chapter in Day of Wrath).
What kind of ‘autobiography’ in the normal sense of the term is that? It’s like Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago where, while the Russian writer uses anecdotes from his life as a pivot, the point is not to talk about his life but about the Soviet Union’s forced labour camps, where tens of millions died (something Putin cunningly omitted from his historical review when interviewed by Tucker).
So beware of words that mean very different things to different people. Words like ‘Hitler’, ‘Jesus’ and ‘autobiography’, plain and simple, lend themselves to tremendous confusion. That’s why I almost always add the adjective ‘deep autobiography’ to the literary genre I would like to inaugurate, which, I believe, could cure people like Marco, about whom I have spoken in my series on narcissism (see my postscript on Monday).
But in real life not even admirers of the Führer who have suffered from mental disorders want to do this work, not even one of them whom I knew personally (see for example this comment from January). I think the late Alice Miller was right on this point. Trying to heal psychological trauma requires work. I would add that it is work similar to the time it would take us to write a doctoral thesis, with the difference that in this work we pass the microphone to the wounded child that still dwells deep in our psyche.
