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Idle Thoughts On Pop Songs And The Seasons

strong men create good times
good times create weak men
weak men create bad times
bad times create strong men

Summer

June Carter, He Don’t Love Me Anymore. What’s alien in that c. 1955 video is the everyday on-air interaction between the good-natured host and his firecracker starlet guest, the young June Carter. If you imagine having a country of your own in which your public space — in this case television airwaves — belongs to you, you might envision something a bit like that exchange in which he introduces her and they pick on each other a bit.

America was a house with many rooms. One of those rooms was Appalachian hillbilly culture, perhaps one closest to my heart on account of the melodious regional accent. It’s no wonder that this is where Tom Wolfe looked for inspiration in creating the Charlotte Simmons character. And it’s no wonder that Johnny Cash fell in love with June. I once said:

[She] is a vision. Like just about every young woman, she has those little imperfections that modesty makes irresistible… That thing I said earlier about modest attire amplifying a cute girl’s attractiveness…

The decade, with its relaxed ways, was America’s summer. But every summer has its storm clouds. Vivian Liberto, first wife of then-drug addled Johnny Cash and mother of his four daughters, writes about a confrontation in which June said to her, “Vivian, he will be mine.” The rest of the story is Johnny and June growing old together. Do you believe in love?

Autumn

Angelo Badalamenti, Laura Palmer’s Theme. It’s simple and reminiscent of Erik Satie’s compositions. A bright moment happens at 1:00, a key change. Brett Favre, in the twilight of his career, was asked about his favorite football memories. He said that it’s not the championships or the victories, it’s those times just having fun with the guys in the locker room or wherever. That answer rang true with me. And there is a flip side to that — you also remember those quiet moments alone.

One such inexplicably indelible moment for me was during Army training in San Antonio, Texas in the early 1990s. Our platoon slept in a large bay with two rows of bunk beds. Listening to a local radio station on my Walkman before drifting off to sleep after lights-out, I heard a song from the Twin Peaks soundtrack. It was “Falling” with Julee Cruise.

The early 1990s was a supernova burst of American creativity, all of it animated by the dream of a world that had flickered just out of reach and then disappeared forever. Autumn is elegiac and it is the one season I’d never give away.

Winter

George Michael, Praying for Time. It would be nice if the great song were written and performed by a godly man, but that’s not what happened. It was created by a faggot who got busted at an airport toilet stall. It’s a lesson in humility for everyone, but also in hope, when a man so flawed he makes you look clean teaches you something. “Listen without prejudice” means that it’s okay to judge after listening.

Whether you’re Georgios Panayiotou or someone less cursed, you have your cross to bear. He had his, homosexuality. I have mine, a light one. The pretty girl I used to know who was diagnosed with an awful illness at 21 had hers. Maybe you have yours.

Listen to the song’s despairing, nihilistic lyrics. Keep what works for you, discard what doesn’t. Whatever George Michael was thinking of when he wrote it in 1989, it speaks to me now.

It’s hard to love, there’s so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say it’s much too late
Well, maybe we should all be praying for time

The girl I mentioned, she told me about the diagnosis that took place a few years earlier and I told her that we all have our cross to bear. After all of that, I met with her dad. He looked like a wreck. He said, “So you’re the ‘PA’ that she talked so much about.” It was a sad moment when I handed him her stuff. He signed a couple of forms where I told him I need his signature.

Spring

Johnny Cash, Children, Go Where I Send Thee. Walk The Line (2005) lied about two things. One, the movie blamed Vivian for the failure of her and Johnny’s marriage. Two, it was silent on the greatest part of Johnny’s career, his Christian music. Yet the film had several good moments, the best one being when Johnny’s disgusted father Ray Cash says:

You’re sittin’ on a high horse, boy. I never had talent, I did the best I could with what I had. Can you say that? Mister big shot, mister pill poppin’ rock star. Who are you to judge, you ain’t got nothin’, big empty house, nothin’, children you don’t see, nothin’, big ol’ expensive tractor stuck in the mud, nothin’.

In the movie, that was Johnny’s rock bottom moment after which he changed his life. “Children, Go Where I Send Thee” is the best interpretation of the American Evangelical spirit in popular music. Johnny would have made a fine Marine Corps drill instructor calling cadence. It’s a fantastic performance, featuring an older June Carter and the other Carter family ladies, the Statler Brothers, and Carl Perkins. Under their captain’s command, they sing like conquerors.

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MM: “That’s why I’m a Democrat”

If you see a grey rectangle below, it means that the latest Murdoch Murdoch video was shoah’d from YouTube. However, they are all archived on CheekyVideos.net.

What great art will the Great Replacement produce?

Human being hunger for the truth as much as they do for air and clean water. When it comes to the stories of trying events, it’s man’s lot to wade through murk of enemy’s version of the events. Or through a complete blackout on their story. Truth always wins though, even if it takes decades or generations.

Europeans under Communism had to wait a generation before their historic tragedies of WWII and under Soviet occupation were expressed in uncensored art during intermittent political thaws. Vietnam veterans had their moment twice, when they were no longer baby-killers: with the Vietnam Memorial Wall in 1982 and with Oliver Stone’s “Platoon” in 1986.

The highest art of the Great Replacement, as we’re in the midst of the drama, is Murdoch Murdoch videos. My favorite is “The Wanderer’s Choice.”

The ending to this new one is horrific and sublime.

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An Antebellum Update

When the cat’s away, the mice come out and play.

bb-5bc2d6bf71f4d

What makes this ideological conflict unusual: White liberals NPCs* are pushing for their own demise. If they lose, they lose. If they win, they still lose. If we can even call it “ideological,” given their irrationality. And for the non-Whites in the liberal coalition it’s not about ideology. It’s straightforwardly racial.

[* “Non-Player Character” meme]

MGE points to current examples of anti-White hatred. The remainder of the post is his comment:

—

And the newest generation of media writers/reporters at places like the NYT no longer even bothers to conceal their progressive politics.

They gave up their pretense of political neutrality awhile ago. Now they aren’t even hiding their anti-white male race hate. Prior to Trump, Sarah Jeong’s years of anti-white twitter screeds (there are hundreds of them, and twitter has allowed them to stay up) would have excluded her from any newspaper job, but these days they are a feather in her cap landing her an editorial gig at the NYT.

I’m sure you have all seen this, (((Christine Fair))), a professor at Georgetown tweeted this during the Kavanaugh hearings

“Look at [this] chorus of entitled white men justifying a serial rapist’s arrogated entitlement,All of them deserve miserable deaths while feminists laugh as they take their last gasps. Bonus: we castrate their corpses and feed them to swine? Yes.”

Twitter refused to remove the tweet until they caved under pressure when it was featured on Tucker Carlson’s show. She still has her job at Georgetown btw.

Bottom line, the left (whatever that means anymore) has gone full on anti-white and I wonder if they will be able to put that genie back in the bottle. It seems every day I read an anti-white screed in some leftist rag. Here is one recent example in the Nation:

White Men Have Good Reason to Be Scared
We’re coming for their power.

So no wonder these white men thrash and howl with defensive rage. Good. Let them be afraid. Because it’s true: We are coming for them, and for their power, too.

[Link]

Camlost said awhile back that blacks have this magical mindset that white people’s power just dropped from the sky and they hoarded it all, instead of it coming from millennia of patriarchal cultivation and breeding. It is telling that in current year pop culture afro-mythology, the power of Wakanda is derived from a magical mineral called vibranium, which the Wakandans hoard to themselves. I wonder what the author of the aforementioned anti-white screed thinks will happen once he seizes this magic white power? Will the result somehow be different than what we see anywhere else in the world run by black people? If Kai Wright and his ilk are so threatened by white people’s exercise of power, why are they so threatened when we want to just go our separate ways?

At the rate we are going, these are questions that they will have to confront head on. Right now people like Kai Wright feel safe poking the bear with impunity because they are protected by the progressive media establishment that dutifully upholds our post-reconstruction racial taboos. But those shibboleths are being chipped away rapidly and will crumble, that is unless Google the “Good Censor” can put a stop to it.

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“A Mattress Built For Two”

Just the other day, I thought about last year’s Ode to Thot by Lucius Somesuch. As telepathy would have it, he now penned another fine one:

A MATTRESS BUILT FOR TWO

— Lucius Somesuch

A cup of hot chocolate and a good talking-too,
Oh Emma, I can see that you’re ready:
It’s time for me to make my move–
I could see us going steady.

Yes, you’re a liar and you need sorting out
But everyone’s a bit complicated,
And I can’t deny you’re truly my style
(Who hasn’t to you masturbated?).

Your trail of texts, compiled for the court
Reads like a great love story,
And though your record we can’t abort
I think I could make you a Tory.

There’s something so longful and dewily girlsome
In your bemusedly belligerent air
And who would not dream of running his hands
Through your cropped atom-blue hair?

If Sarah Jeong should rock a thong, she might
Come to surpass you.
And, to be sure, her gook blood is pure
While yours is already half-Jew.

However, she’s old, and obviously sold
On being dominated by elder White dudes,
While you seem more of a challenge to score
With, unless Roman’s bringing the Quaaludes.

Oh Emma! Each day rises brand new, and ours
Dawns so bright, our eyes are dim:
I wonder now if the bush matches the roof
And do you wear hoop rings in your quim?

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Making A Feminist Cry

It’s from 2013. Brazil’s current presidential candidate Jair Bolsonaro is accosted by a hostile female journalist. He tells her: “A few days ago you called me a rapist, in the Green Room. And I said I wouldn’t rape you because you’re not worthy of it.”

There are two kinds of women. Arrange your life so that it includes solely ones who never bait men into violence and thus you are never put into a position of having to clean up their mess.

She escalates. Bolsonaro effectively calls her ugly and sticks his finger in her face. She says that she’d slap him and enters his personal space. He fires back: “Slap me and I will slap you.” He pushes her back and calls her a slut. She melts down at this point, repeating the same phrase something like twenty times in a row.

As goes the saying: when the cat’s away, the mice come out and play. Liberal politics have devolved into post-Obama absurdities which I wouldn’t call “Hard Left.” Hard Left was Lenin and Che Guevara. What today is manifested as the hard edge of Leftism — pronoun etiquette, Antifa, anti-racism, transgender consciousness, and belligerent feminism — is certainly financed by the same actors who funded Lenin, it destroys innocent lives (which liberals high-five each other over), and it most definitely has the potential to develop into a hard political force. But it’s not there now. It’s larval stage of Left wing revolution: poking harder at traditional White societies because we looked weak when they poked softly. Much of this apparent weakness is our side’s refusal to engage — the cat ignoring the mice, which therefore get bolder and nastier.

Decades of Republican cuckservatism relied on such a misguided magnanimity. Go along with the MLK myth, nominate Bob Dole, give blacks what they demand, suffer the feminists, decline to articulate the collective interest of Whites as such. The result was the two Obama terms. Everything changed when Donald Trump batted the mouse with “Only Rosie O’Donnell.”

The feminist is fearless, she juts her chin onto male zone of aggression and publicly challenges Bolsonaro’s honor because she expects impunity. Doing so, she forfeit the protection of chivalry beyond the prohibition on full-power strikes.

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Natalism for your people: what you get when you have a country of your own

There are fancy residential developments in European cities that are planned to encourage family-formation, but in the end it’s a row of empty swing sets. Family-friendly facilities alone aren’t going to get our young people to have kids. White natalism requires these three things:

  • Economic incentive; or at the very least, freedom from economic disincentives: “we can’t afford a neighborhood with good schools”
  • Cohesive demographics: Diversity + Proximity + Police Enforced Antiracism = bad money drives out good.
  • A sense of having a future: the feeling that you own your public space, writ-large, goes a long way toward that.

I am omitting cultural aspects of modernity such as feminism and birth control because they are more or less constant across Europe and her diaspora. Apparently, all that it takes to stay a step ahead of modernity is to have your own government:

More than 402,000 children were born in Poland in 2017, the highest number in “many years”, the country’s family and social policy minister said on Friday. Poland’s socially conservative Law and Justice party, which came to power in late 2015, aims to ease the burdens of child rearing by giving families with two or more children a handout of [tax-free] PLN 500 (USD 134, EUR 116) a month per child. Poorer families receive the allowance even if they have just one child. 

The banner art on Polish government’s social services web site:

5001

Over here in America, we break our backs so that black single moms and illegal-alien mestizas can roll up to the register and pay nothing for a $200 cart of groceries. Frankly, what’s a government that tweets about record-low African-American and Hispanic unemployment — while never, ever, saying one goddamned time that White People (or Heritage Americans, or Americans of European Stock, or White Anglo-Saxon Protestants, or Pre-1965 Whites, or Descendants of 1776 Revolutionary Colonists, or Real Americans) so much as exist. A government that denies you while effusing love for your ethnic rivals.

One challenge is scale. The United States of America is big, geographically. It’s become a bilingual, multi-racial bureaucracy spanning a continent.

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Human Feelings

Remember Mollie’s dad?

H/t Suburban_elk, who writes:

SBPDL has a story up about a young White man killed for his phone in Virginia, by two blacks. Joshua Grey was 23 and very handsome and his family too. But his mother had this to say:

“It didn’t get any easier with the people responsible behind bars either, ‘Their lives have been ruined. I can’t imagine what their families are going through. They’ve lost family members just as much as Josh,” said Diane.

Are Diane’s words outright fabricated? Are grieving next-of-kin in such a state of mind that they literally know not what they’re saying? Are they coerced or drugged?

I also have a theory that when Diversity takes a White life, the complex chain of police and medical personnel, and maybe psychologists that grieving family members deal with as part of the criminal investigation process, follows a protocol: connect them with “compassionate” professionals of the same race as the killer. This way the victim’s family, being in the shell-shock of the initial stage of grief and psychologically vulnerable, are imprinted with a “loving” flip-side of the killer and in their unbalanced emotional state, they feel guilty about suddenly hating the killer’s entire race and they make public statements they wouldn’t otherwise have.

See Joshua Grey’s photo in SBPDL’s article. He was a beautiful man. He didn’t die young for his country in combat, he was eaten by two hyenas. The thoughts I have about what should be done in the immediate and the long-term sense are nothing like those of Mollie’s dad or, reportedly, Josh’s mom.

Sometimes I consider the healthy-minded people I know, the guys on the AltRight, my own pure righteous hate, and I wonder: are we the only people who have human feelings?