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Tag: Trauma model of mental disorders

Categories
Child abuse

Lidz

I want to expand on what I discussed yesterday with Benjamin about the trauma model of mental disorders because the topic is a universal taboo, including in the racialist community, to the point that catastrophes like those of William Pierce and Don Black’s children are incomprehensible. (My working hypothesis is that, had they been treated well as children, they would have followed in their parents’ footsteps instead of betraying their ideals.)

It all has to do with the omnipresent taboo, and I’d like to illustrate it with the first reading I ever did of a mental health professional who, unlike bio-reductionist psychiatry, which is pseudoscientific, was one of the pioneers in talking about parents who schizophrenized their children.

Theodore Lidz

It was 1983 when I was broke precisely because of the abuse I had suffered at home the previous decade. At the famous Gandhi Bookstore in Mexico City, I read the interview with Dr Theodore Lidz in the book Laing and Anti-Psychiatry, edited by Robert Boyers and Robert Orrill. Back then, there were no comfortable armchairs like those found in Barnes & Noble bookstores, and I had to read that long interview standing up because the subject fascinated me. It was the first time in my life I had read someone who came close to what I believed had happened in my family.

Seven years later, I managed to buy a copy of Boyers and Orrill’s book, translated into Spanish by Alianza Editorial of Madrid, which was the same edition I had read at the Gandhi Bookstore. Since I don’t have the original English version, I can’t quote a passage from the interview with Lidz verbatim, but I can restate its content.

When the interviewer asked if Lidz was surprised that books on schizophrenia, like those by Ronald Laing, had become popular among young people (this is a 1971 book and reflected the mood of the 1960s), Lidz replied that he was surprised that Laing wrote for the general public and not for a professional audience. What struck me as I reread that interview yesterday was that Lidz added that it wasn’t the public’s business to know what happens in these families, even though Laing might have altered the details to make his cases anonymous. Lidz added that, in his work on cases of schizogenic parents—that is, those who drive their children mad—he wasn’t able to publish the reports of most of the families because some of the parents were quite well-known, and even with pseudonyms, they could have been recognised. He added that some of the cases ran to 50 to 80 typewritten pages, ‘truly precious documents’, but that they couldn’t be published.

This struck me greatly because in my Letter to Mom Medusa, I cite a case in which Lidz violated what he said above: the case of Mrs Newcomb (a pseudonym) and her extremely passive husband, who helped me so much in understanding my parents.

On the next page I reread yesterday, Lidz, with whom I spoke on the phone in the 1990s when he was already quite old, surprised me again because he wrote that he didn’t believe the schizogenic parents had done anything wrong; that they hadn’t meant to harm the child, and that this contrasted with what Laing wrote, for whom the parents’ intentions were often malicious. Lidz added, and here I retranslate it again from my Spanish copy into English, that ‘parents do the best they can—they can’t be different from what they are’.

This goes against the thesis of my autobiographical books, where I say that my father could have chosen the good: not to be influenced by the lies his wife told about me, but rather should have communicated with me in my adolescence (cf. both the final pages of Hojas Susurrantes and the first chapter of ¿Me Ayudarás?).

It’s been forty-two years since I first read the very lucid interview with Lidz standing in the Gandhi Bookstore, an interview that was a turning point in the research I did on my parents. It’s only natural that after so many years, my thinking has matured, largely due to the work of Alice Miller: the first psychologist in history who, unlike her predecessors (like Lidz), unequivocally took the side of the victimized child. (Despite what Lidz said, Laing didn’t completely side with the victim either, as we see in the middle chapter of my Hojas Susurrantes.)

In the previous thread, Benjamin complained that the racial right couldn’t care less about the issue, to which I responded that the German woman who received the mantle after Alice Miller died said that blaming parents is the most potent taboo in the human psyche. I’m posting this entry because, I see now, the taboo was present even in the works of my admired mentors, whom I read decades ago. The abysmal difference between them and us is that, in siding with the victim, we don’t care about what Lidz and company feared: that the public would realise which families the clinical material refers to, those ‘truly precious documents’ he didn’t dare publish (and which would have done enormous good for our cause had they been published!).

Do you now understand the new literary genre that people like John Modrow, Benjamin and I want to inaugurate? By siding a hundred per cent with the victim, not only do we not care about people recognising the abusive families, but we write using their real names!

Only revenge heals the wounded soul, even though we’re talking about literary revenge.

Categories
Benjamin (commenter) Poetry

A poem

in memory of the German war dead

Only thanks to the help of an old friend, who offered me his house as storage, yesterday I managed to save the furniture that accompanied me in my home during my childhood and adolescence. Now I need to complete the long bureaucratic process to rent a modest flat in a decent area of the capital.

While I settle in, a helpful way to spend the time would be to listen to this poem, and also these audio clips from Benjamin’s books.

Being a ‘man against his time’ not only means revaluing the values regarding the heroic National Socialists who died in the war, but also inverting them equally when it comes to other lies accepted by society—such as psychiatry and what really causes mental disorders.

If the racialists understood what Benjamin and I have written in our autobiographical books, things like the grotesque betrayal of Don Black’s son, or the betrayal of William Pierce’s son, wouldn’t have happened; and I dare say David Irving’s daughter wouldn’t have become schizophrenic.

It’s time for contemporary racialists to stop believing the System’s lies (psychiatry is taught in every medical school). A good way to do so is to start familiarising onseself with the literature of those of us who have survived truly hellish adolescences.

Categories
Psychohistory

Zero

Lebenskraft ! (last entry)

 

Frankfurt

4th May

My trip to Europe ends with my visit to Dachau. I had to go to Frankfurt only because that’s where I was flying back across the Atlantic.

This city was almost destroyed by the Allied bombing, and what we see now are new buildings and ugly skyscrapers that didn’t exist before. It is striking that, as soon as I got off the bus in Frankfurt, I saw one more monument that reminds me of the self-harmer women: but now a pathology in the collective unconscious of the German people. I am referring to a church that had been destroyed but, instead of blaming the Allies, the Germans blamed themselves:

The reconstructed church.

As seen in the image above, on the left is a plaque with the profile of a woman. Here I include a close-up:

‘To the citizens of Frankfurt who resisted the barbarism of National Socialism’.

In the first image you can also see some inscriptions, and it doesn’t hurt to zoom in:

The Nazi concentration camps!: Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa aterna: what I have been calling ‘ogre of the superego’!

As soon as I saw this monument I was in no mood for sightseeing in Frankfurt and headed straight to the hotel to eat, rest, sleep and wait for my flight home. But it is important to clarify what I meant by the term ‘ogre of the superego’ in my essay on St Augustine.

Due to the colossal collective trauma of not only having lost the war, but by the very aggressive de-Nazification imposed by the Allies, and the ubiquitous anti-Nazi propaganda of the traitorous government the following decades, this ogre of the superego has completely taken over the soul of the German people.

We can understand my psychoanalysis through a home lecture by Richard Grannon, who doesn’t use my term but other words, although we mean the same thing. Grannon speaks of the inner critic or crap injunctions: a toxified, trauma-based superego, or simply a toxified superego.

Note that in his talk in the video ‘Understanding the importance of healing your super ego after narcissistic abuse’ Grannon refers to mothers or partners as narcissistic as the one Augustine had. When Grannon mentions the acronym NPD he is referring to narcissistic personality disorder, which I exemplified with the mother of the most influential doctor of the Church.

We can use this psychoanalytic paradigm, originating from those who now elaborate on the trauma model of mental disorders, to analogize it to the German state inducing a toxified superego in its people through ubiquitous propaganda. For example, the monument I photographed in Frankfurt is one more voice, like the paranoid voices the schizophrenic listens to, of the omnipresent inner critic: those negative messages that have been forced deep into the heads of the German people.
 

______ 卐 ______

 
I will not go back to Europe.

And now I fully understand the Greek commenter ‘Irrelevant Nobody’ who told me he was going to commit suicide.

A few days ago Adunai, who shouldn’t comment here because he approves of tormenting animals, sent me an email informing me that a Romanian who used to comment here committed suicide on April 26 (the day I was visiting Prague by the way). Regardless of what the Romanian did, only now do I understand perfectly the Greek commenter who couldn’t tolerate living in a Europe where, in his words, Hitler and Himmler lost.

Only an apocalyptic cataclysm will be able to cure the Westerner in general, and the German in particular, of the ogre of the super-ego that self-destructs him; say, a nuclear exchange between the US and Russia. Unfortunately, this opportunity has already been lost with Donald Trump, as it was the Democrats who wanted war.

Now only energy devolution, the result of peak oil whose Bell curve will start to fall this decade, will be able to save us…

Categories
Psychology So-called saints

Augustine, 6

BOOK IX: With his mother and friends he returns to his native Africa

‘…where I had offered you as a sacrifice, my old self’ Augustine writes in this chapter. He didn’t realise that his ‘new self’ was what psychologists today would call the false self: his relationship with his god, to whom he speaks in the second person singular, was a maternal introject—not his true self! But now imbued with his false self, the absorbing mother within him, he writes: ‘My heart was fire’ and ‘now I was disgusted by those who rebel against the Scriptures’: a preamble to the destruction of the works of Celsus and Porphyry ordered by Emperor Theodosius II.

After his ‘conversion’ Augustine wrote to Ambrose and signed up to be baptised, so he, his mother and Alypius, who would also convert to the cult of the Galileans (Emperor Julian’s term), returned to Milan.

We also brought Adeodatus, my natural son, born of sin. You had gifted him well. He was barely fifteen years old… His intelligence left me speechless.

A little later, Augustine devotes some interesting pages to how his grandparents had educated his mother, and how they had turned her into a puritan: through mistreatment. I was especially struck by these words, which are understandable if we imagine the African heat, where the family grew up: ‘Apart from the hours when they ate soberly with her parents, she wasn’t allowed to drink even water, even if she burned with thirst’. But I find it very strange that in his book Augustine didn’t tell anecdotes about his siblings. What did he want to hide from us? What we do know is that his mother had fulfilled her mission:

She said to me: ‘My son, as far as I am concerned, I no longer find pleasure in this life… There was only one reason why I wanted to stay a little longer in this life. I wanted to see you as a Catholic Christian before I died. My God has fulfilled this desire even more fully than I wished. I see you his servant, who despises the happiness of the earth. What am I doing here?’

I don’t remember my answer well. What I do remember is that, barely five days later—not many more—she fell into bed with fevers… At fifty-six years of age and thirty-three years of mine, that pious and holy woman was released from her body.

It is very significant for those of us who research mental disorders to read, a couple of pages later, a retrospective recollection when her mother was still alive:

And she also reminded me with emotional affection that she had never heard a harsh word or insult against her come out of my mouth.

But he would take out his pent-up rage with his theological pessimism, so opposite to that of Pelagius. The following year Adeodatus died (had the great doctor of the Church treated his son well?) and the narrative part of his Confessions ends. The rest of the next four chapters are mere homilies for new converts.

If we ignore them (books X to XIII of his Confessions), it seems very significant that Augustine ended his book with this great account of his mother. As my father told me, ‘Faith is suckled’. And as Monica told her son: ‘Where I was’, in her dream of the rule, ‘there you were’. The rest—the coming theology of Augustine—followed from there.

No wonder that the year Augustine died, 430 c.e., was the year in which the Dark Ages began. When I see the astronomical damage done to the white man by the Imperial Church, that Church of which Augustine was its great architect, I increasingly admire Nietzsche’s The Antichrist. Unlike Cervantes, Goethe, Dante, Shakespeare and Augustine himself, the German philosopher was a ‘man against his time’, a poet against the Christian Age. Now, thanks to new ways of refuting Christianity besides Nietzsche’s—Richard Carrier’s mythicism and the autobiographical genre I want to inaugurate (which precisely shows that faith is indeed a programme installed in us by our parents)—, the mental virus for the white man implanted by deranged theologians could, potentially, cease to infect us.

Giovanni di Balduccio, Tomb of St Augustine in Pavia, Italy.

Categories
Child abuse Psychology So-called saints

Augustine, 2

Augustine and his mother Monica (1846) by Ary Scheffer.

BOOK II: Spends a year at home before going to Carthage

I want to remember now my past uglinesses and the carnal dullness of my soul… In my adolescence I burned with desire to be filled with the baser things… Your anger against me was increasing… burning in the flames of my concupiscence… At least, I should have paid more attention to the voice of your clouds warning those who marry that you will suffer the tribulations of the flesh, but I forgive you [1 Cor 7:28].

This poor devil, elevated to the greatest Father of the Church for all Christendom (Catholic, Orthodox and Protestant), already believed that sex was sinful even within marriage! On the next page Augustine continues:

Made a eunuch for the kingdom of heaven, I would have sighed happily for your embraces [Mt 19:12]… I was lost at sixteen.

And here it is clear what it means to be a slave to the parental introject (in his case, a mental slave to his mother’s engulfing mind), and why I say that the idea of the deity is but a sublimation of the maternal (or paternal) image:

She wanted me—and I remember how insistently she asked me in secret—not to fornicate… The words, however, were yours, though I didn’t know it. I thought you were silent and that it was she who spoke. Therefore, I despised you, her son, the son of your servant [his mother] and your servant [Augustine], who didn’t cease to talk to me through her.

With such an ogre of a super-ego it is no wonder that further down on the same page he added about his nascent libidinous impulse:

I wallowed in my slime as if it were balm and precious ointment, and to mire me…

 

BOOK III: Going to Carthage

To love and be loved was the sweetest thing for me, especially if I got to enjoy the beloved’s body…

He was already nineteen years old and his pagan father, the only one who could have saved him from his wife’s abrasive behaviour, had died.

But you know very well, O light of my heart, that I had no knowledge of the counsel of your Apostle at that time.

In a sense he did, as we saw in the previous section. Augustine was unaware that the self is a structure, and that it can be programmed at the whim of one’s parents, either for good or for evil.

What only delighted, excited and kindled me was to love, seek and embrace strongly not this or that sect, but wisdom itself, whatever it might be. These were the words that excited and burned me, and the only thing that dampened my ardour was not to find the name of Christ there. For this name, Lord, the name of my Saviour and your Son, I drank it piously with my mother’s milk, and by your mercy I kept it engraved in the depths of my heart.

By the way, I will never forget my father’s words: ‘Faith is suckled!’ in a tone of assertive gravity. And here is how the unconscious of Augustine’s mother had already perceived that her son, although he would flirt for a short time with Manichaeism and other pagan sects, was at heart a good Christian:

My mother, your faithful servant, wept for me, shedding tears… She dreamt, in fact, that she was standing on a wooden ruler all sad and afflicted and that there was coming towards her a young man with a bright, cheerful and smiling face. He asked her the reason for her sadness and her daily tears, not because he didn’t know it, but because he had something to tell her, as in such visions. When she had answered that her tears were for the loss of my soul, he told her to take courage and to look carefully and be attentive, for where she was, there I was also [my emphasis]. She looked and saw me standing beside her on the same ruler.

Monica’s unconscious captured her son perfectly, as he was: a good Christian.

When she told me the dream and I tried to interpret it as a message that she shouldn’t despair of one day being as I was at present, she promptly and without hesitation replied: ‘No, he didn’t say “where he is, there you are”, but “where you are, there he is”.

This sharp reply of my mother’s impressed me very much… I was more impressed by this reply than by the dream itself.

But as Augustine had not yet devoted himself body and soul to being a champion of Constantine’s still young faith, his mother ‘returned to the charge with greater entreaties and more abundant tears’ as he confesses in his Confessions.

Monica was a clinical case of what some YouTubers call a narcissistic mother: a phallic, possessive mother without ego boundaries between her and her son, whom she treats as a mere egoic object (cf. my Letter to mom Medusa).

Categories
Autobiography Literature

Last day!

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…

Categories
Child abuse Sponsor

Soldier

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.

Categories
Daybreak Publishing

Schizogenic

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!

___________

(*) 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.

Categories
Alice Miller Child abuse

Walsh

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.

Categories
Autobiography Literature

No pain no gain!

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.