Physical Bravery And Young Age

Set in medieval France, the historical drama La passion Béatrice opens with the lord of a manor and his teenage son returning from English captivity after a failed military campaign. But the lord’s homecoming is not what everyone had expected. He directs his first of many acts of wrath at his son, whom he torments for having frozen up in battle as the opposing armies charged toward each other. The boy’s older sister comforts him later, cooing “you were too young, not ready for war.”

Fast-forwarding to another war, two weeks ago in Germany a 26-year-old man was forced to watch a stranger rape his girlfriend at knifepoint, as reported:

A refugee from Ghana has been arrested for dragging a young woman from her tent and raping her while she was on a camping holiday with her boyfriend. The young couple […] were approached by a machete-wielding man at about 12.30 am on Sunday last week. The boyfriend was forced to watch as the attacker violated his 23-year-old lover.

It’s not clear what sidelined the boyfriend while his adversary went to the ground with the girl, what impromptu weapons were available to him, and what opportunity he had to attack the rapist. He could have grabbed a rock or a branch. Toss a handful of dirt into the African’s eyes while rushing him. Yell for help from other campers. It’s easy, from the position of a spectator, to construct a different ending to the story and I indulged in imagining the following alternate scenario, which begins with the Ghanian holding a knife to the girl’s throat:

GHANIAN: “Yoo watch fiki-fiki. Yoo moof, I cut your bitch”

GERMAN: “Stab away. She’ll be dead to me with nigger stink on her anyway.”

The German picks up a camping axe and approaches the interloper. The Ghanaian runs. An hour later in the couple’s tent, baby Hans is conceived.

By the way, as cold as it sounds, that fictitious “stab away” reply would not have been out of line even if the hostage were his daughter rather than mere girlfriend. But the young man didn’t follow my ex post facto armchair-quarterback script. Instead, maybe his brain short-circuited at the sight of sharp steel and he watched the action as though from behind a screen. Someone who grew up sheltered from any and all violence will freeze up when faced with an imminent prospect of physical pain. And that incident shows why shielding boys from common schoolyard rough-and-tumble is wrongheaded. I recently shared related thoughts on bullying.

A reader at Vox Popoli who is a retired military officer noted: “German boys always struck me as wimpish until the military got hold of them.” I don’t think his categorization of them as wimpish was intended as a slight. There is in fact something “not ready for war” about well-bred K-selected boys until they are mentored. They require time and guidance to mature. They don’t have that opportunistic aggression-for-aggression’s sake you see in r-selected types.

But at 26, the camper is not young. Certainly not by the traditional standards of infantrymen, with 22 being the average age of the U.S. combat soldier in Vietnam. Youth alone does not explain that instance of cowardice, as history is full of children who performed superhuman acts of heroism. Just three generations ago, boys as young as eleven fought as riflemen against professional and mercenary SS units in the 1944 Warsaw Uprising. Boys and girls even younger than that served as couriers and nurses’ aides under fire.

In fact, youth is typically associated with recklessness, bravery’s wild cousin. In Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum, a middle-aged character has a rueful interior monologue (to my recollection twenty years after reading that book) in which he rationalizes his own reluctance to join the ongoing political riots as being a function of his mature perspective. So has a 26-year-old German today “aged out” of bravery, relative to boys a decade younger than him who comprised Wehrmacht units at the Battle of the Bulge? No; mid-twenties isn’t “mature,” and the VP commenter already answered that question — the military never got a hold of him.

“The military” can be read literally, as well as metaphorically to refer to any communal structure that provides male mentorship to boys. Without that mentoring, they risk ending up as cake batter that failed to rise. An illustration: the mild-mannered young man in Scent of a Woman, who required Al Pacino’s guidance to bring out his innate integrity. The camper’s situation was compounded by the fact that he was not merely abandoned by his fathers, in which case he’d at least been free to figure certain things out by himself. Rather, his environment in a conquered and Allied-occupied Germany was by design hostile to the germ of masculinity within any native boy there. From his first day in Kindergarten, he learned shame and grew up to despise his original sin of existing.

“In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honour and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.” ― C.S. Lewis

A necessary aside: not everyone there is a coward. This is a proper moment to break away from the all-too-familiar accounts of submission because the preponderance of such stories creates a false sense of determinism. We are at war and with each new set of open eyes, the war is becoming less and less one-sided.

So not all is passivity among Europeans. In another incident, also in Germany, a group of Pakistanis sidled up to a family of five on a train and asked the man’s two little girls to sit on their laps. The child-molesting human garbage attacked the father when he told them to leave. They also beat his wife and their thirteen-year-old son, both of whom tried to shield his body. Brave men are out there, in Germany and everywhere else. The father stepped up to do his job and the teenage boy showed more mettle than the camper who is twice his age.

Even the most red-pilled of us is capable of getting angry, and the above news item made me livid. Anger is a sign of life.

Every human group upholds the three ideals listed below for the purpose of turning the wimpish boy into into a man. Those ideals are realized through social institutions, which in the West are being intentionally corrupted by liberalism:

Mentorship — When you visit a martial arts school or a little league baseball practice and you see non-Whites under instruction of White coaches there, you are witnessing a fatal compromise on a Männerbund structure for mentoring boys in the image of their elders. Diversity disrupts harmony. Blacks have their all-black inner-city boxing gyms. Whites have to price-out the diversity with sports like lacrosse and hockey.

Culture — As T.S. Eliot put it, “Culture may even be described simply as that which makes life worth living.” A living spirit whose great books for boys transmit masculine role models and foster a purposeful sense of identity. Culture is home. That’s why they wreck Boy Scouts and blue collar fraternities such as firefighting and construction work by pushing women and diversity on them.

Destiny — A sense of having a past and a future. The kids who fought in the Warsaw Uprising knew that they had a home and a destiny of their own, which they fought to secure for themselves and for me with their young lives. Sure of their righteousness in the inferno of urban warfare, they sang:

We’re the children of Warsaw going into battle
For your every cobblestone, we’ll give our blood
We’re the children of Warsaw going into battle
On your command, we’ll bring wrath to the enemy

Freezing up when an armed rapist grabs your girl is the fruit of political systems whose aim is to destroy White nations and with them, everything that the millennia of Western history have irrepressibly created even through the worst times along the course of our highs and lows. Our key objective in this war, in Germany and everywhere else in the West, is to secure our freedoms of association. You give a damn for, you fight and kill for, you give what you have and you do your best for, and you willingly die no matter your age, for what is yours.


Image source: Wikipedia. “The Little Insurrectionist,” Warsaw

38 thoughts on “Physical Bravery And Young Age

  1. Regarding this story in German they say rape I’m thinking there’s some chance that “violated” just means that the attacker got away with some groping before being chased off successfully by the boyfriend. They would write about it the same way, maybe.

  2. Twenty years ago that story would have made me livid, too.

    Now it just provides background for wiping out that African, without second thought, without emotion, if I found myself in the same situation.

    How do you instruct others (e.g., young Germans) in this mindset, which to them must seem crazy?

    We don’t get a lot of random African migrants raping White women around here, in case anyone was wondering.

  3. From the linked Daily Mail article:

    The boyfriend, 26, who had also been threatened by the man, contacted police and medical responders took her to hospital.

    A photofit picture of the attacker led to his arrest on Saturday and DNA testing confirmed his guilt, according to police.

    And further from the comments:

    To all those saying why did her boyfriend not do something. I read a different report stating that the offender held the machete against the girls throats and said he would kill her if he tried to stop him. That’s why he didn’t act. It was to save her life.

  4. In any case it is beyond outrageous that Africans in Germany are lurking with machetes in popular camping parks.

    At the Daily Mail all comments are “moderated in advance”.

    I agree that Germans in particular need to be officially sanctioned and conditioned in order to bring out their inner warrior. The popular video The Lion has that a theme.

  5. The greatest danger to what Jack Donavan calls The Empire of Nothing is non-elite men daring to act out and impose some sort of in-group boundaries.

    They don’t make money on it, it disrupts commerce, and it upsets the social order.

    However, since the rewards of disloyalty for non-elite men are now so much higher than the (increasingly nonexistent) rewards of loyalty, it’s increasingly hard to keep that sort of thing in check. As some might argue, it is far more satisfying to take power than to have it given, and the current regime doesn’t seem inclined to give anything to the non-elite.

  6. Pingback: Physical Bravery And Young Age | Reaction Times

  7. –this isn’t really true to the topic, but as soon as I saw the film title I thought, “was that a Bertrand Tavernier film?” And it turns out I was right, yet I was thinking of the wrong film–The Princess of Montpensier. He has a reputation as a leftist (and, though wiki doesn’t say, looks Whoish to me). I remember too– but again, maybe I’m confusing names– some famous critic once writing off Tavernier as a nihilist.

    UlricKerensky notes: “The greatest danger to what Jack Donavan calls The Empire of Nothing is non-elite men daring to act out and impose some sort of in-group boundaries.”

    –well said

    and from the frontlines: Nancy May changes her avatar pic! lozlz she’s getting very “by the book.”

    I’m toying with going to verse-only commenting at the chateau. Might get me really oiled up

  8. That’s a great CS Lewis quote. For those on the twatter, there’s a CS Lewis feed to puts out choice quotes just the same.

    On a more somber note, I came here because certain idiots at Le Chateau are stinking up the place. Part of me wants to toss in my two cents, but that just brings out from crap from YKW.

  9. I’m toying with going to verse-only commenting at the chateau. Might get me really oiled up

    Your take on Ten Little Indians had me rolling.

    And with the recent stinkers visiting there as of late (we know who they are) it’d be a welcome breath of fresh air.

  10. lozlz hey tanks mendo!

    hey guyz we no dat SUM of da trollz hav visited this site b4. and since da Nancy May has already tried her hand at versufeecashun back at du Loocious, letz try a beta test?!

    so eff she cums her and raids des den dats just datapoint 10743992 that she’s a pro troll (as if that ‘spontaneous’ set of screeds against me that probably were written by three different yentas over the period of a week wasn’t)– that is to say, if she tries and launch a preemptive response at the chateau, we know she reads here too;

    and if she doesn’t it’s just a fun little poetry workshop for us gents.

    Context: among other silly gambits, “vanamee” claims to have run our prose samples through some online Cosmo Quiz Sex Ovaltine Decoder Ring to find that we WRITE EXATLY THE SAME lozlzozl

    A little dubious, that one could find so inept an app as to mistake my orotund Johnsonian cadences for the painfully gestated, halting, plonking failed passes at English prose put forth by young Nancy May (who does, to her credit, know a great deal about grunge era babydoll dresses, even if those were “before her time”, or at least, before the season of life in which she began to scribble into her moleskin copybook the collected pick-up lines of the chateau, festooned with glitter gel daises in the margins as they may be).

    But to continue–

  11. Pingback: Campground: PA on the prep for physical defense | Lucius Somesuch

  12. A resolution bold I’ve just determined to try to do
    Though time alone can truly tell if I’ll ever see it through:
    So many times I’ve said some things the language of which was reekin’
    That now to make some recompense I find myself bent on seekin’.

    One oft declines, to vent one’s mind, with trolls that’s getting sassy
    Into the sort of choice of words that comes off less than classy:
    And in the huff and puff of thoughts one garbles one’s own syntax
    When to school the flaws of fools one’s patience’s at last out been maxed.

    To this new goal toward which I toil I add this consideration:
    That with my prose I’ve done been hosed to mere evisceration:
    For you see, young Nancy Me (May!) ran some writing samples through
    Of hers and mine, and did duly find a finding that’s too true:

    For once her online Cosmos Quiz Prose Scannertron took our score
    It turns out Nancy May et moi are one and the same dull bore!
    There’s no distinction! None to be found, among genius me et elle:
    Kipling’s cadence or “Shake It Off”: between them what is there to tell?

    And so resigned, my mediocre mind I’ll try at least to mend
    And thus to those too sick of prose this woeful verse I send
    In hope that, when next I throw to the mat those who work in shadow
    The wrestled rhymes will in time redound to the glory of the chateau.

  13. Absolutely… Voting is for “pussies…”. Categorically, metaphorically and literally.

    White man should deny himself the “right” to vote because it would indicate that he is still alive and perhaps kicking?

    “Franchise” really is a deceptive term for what amounts to not much more than “freedom to vote” in futile fashion.

  14. Lucius: dang, that poem scans well. I did it injustice at first by reading it in mobile view, which broke up the lines. Last year I started drafting a sonnet in iambic pentameter but ran into a mental block and dropped the effort. It was about a Shitlord who sees one of those college girls with a Social Justice t-shirt (greenpeace, planned parenthood, whatever) and a clipboard. You see them in pairs in metropolitan areas, hassling passer-bys. Some of those girls are cute and I made eye contact with one, laughing off her “hiii, do you have a minute to talk about equality?”

    The first two lines of the third stanza of where I left my stalled draft (meter not there yet, an ABAB rhyme scheme):

    The eyebrow raises o’er his roving eye, surprised by the contrasting qualities
    A rose–not sick yet but her clipboard–Gibs for Dindus International

    I’m patting myself on the back for “Gibs for Dindus International.” The William Blake allusion has potential. I’m sticking to prose.

    The final couplet was supposed to have a police siren wail as she drops her clipboard and follows the Shitlord to … something.

    — However, since the rewards of disloyalty for non-elite men are now so much higher than the (increasingly nonexistent) rewards of loyalty, it’s increasingly hard to keep that sort of thing in check. (Ulrich)

    I’ve wondered about the forms that disloyalty can/will take.

  15. — From Huffington Post – “Could It Be Time To Deny White Men The Franchise?”

    Hard to say which of those types of articles are libs indulging their ids and which are trial balloons or normalization first salvos for downrange programs. Along similar lines, there had been proposals for outlawing private&homeschool education and p*d*ph*I*a acceptance. We dodged a lot of that with Hillary’s defeat.

  16. I’ve wondered about the forms that disloyalty can/will take. (PA)

    A topic of increasingly less disguised discussion.

    The Empire of Nothing in large part still rules because it’s opponents have no organization. Even forming the most tenuous of groups would be a major act of disloyalty.

  17. All the creative fields, known as the Humanities, are now for brave souls to make their mark.

    I want to hear stories and songs, and plays and whatever else, that feature front and center the White person and his problems and their resolutions.

    If the White people can’t represent in the traditional creative fields, than to hell with them.

  18. I would like to achieve something in the creative fields.

    I know that when I was younger, it was prestigious to be a “writer”.

    What the fuck ever happened to that?

    I’ll tell ya, kids —

    The White Death is what happened.

    Suddenly we don’t have any stories, and or no one is interested?

    I know for a fact, that all the talented intelligent (white) kids who were more inclined toward the Humanities as opposed to the sciences, generally wanted to be writers.

    But it turned out we had nothing to say and or there wasn’t a market for it.

    How ironic is that, now that we don’t have a voice and can’t figure out how to get one.

    Is ironic the right word for it? It is ironic.

    It is ironic because the meaning of our problem can’t be conveyed, somehow, because we can’t figure out what our problem is.

    Personally I have concluded that is has something to do with not being a complete and intact person, but that perfect symbolism AND reality is just a little too convenient of an excuse.

    Or is it?

    I suggested on Sailer’s blog, in a topical comment that didn’t get much response last I checked, that the White Death might correlate with circumcision rates. Apparently the White Death phenomena does not exist in Europe, with their White populations, as it does in America. Is there a White Death in Australia and Canada?

  19. The blame rests with many WNs, and with many of the WNs here.

    There is nothing wrong with killing. I see very little concern over the casualties, 3 million, that the USA’s little war in the Stan and Iraq has caused. For some men, like Chris Kyle, the more men they kill, the more they are worshiped by ordinary citizens.

    The WILL to act is more important than the action.

    The Surveillance States across the West prevent us from acting en masse. The police, their CCTVs, FRS and LPRs are designed to protect minos from us, not us from them.

    There are things we can’t say, but there are many we can say: that nigger should be dead. The white man should have killed him. He did not.

    Military or police training cannot help in the slightest. In fact, it hurts. Because they need permission or “orders” to act, and they get protection from the consequences.

    Anders Brevik was an amazing man, perhaps 1 in a 100 million to be conservative.

    But yet, one can say that his abilities were as nothing compared to some out there, who are still walk free to this very day. To detect this sort of man is the highest ability any WN can achieve.

  20. White people’s race instincts have been reprogrammed, and it has a lot (everything) to do with our eusocial nature.

    White people are thinking (and feeling) of themselves as part of a worldwide collective.

    To what extent are those thoughts and feelings the result of a parasitical influence? and to what extent is that parasitical influence (ever even) eradicable?

    Our eusocial nature is tied up into our living space, and:

    The variable of our living space has fundamentally changed, now that the Earth is explored to its ends.

  21. RE: This redistribution of the world’s wealth is long overdue, and it is not just South Africa where white males own a disproportionate amount of wealth.

    sometimes i wonder if some of these huff-po and slate articles are more or less troll essays; they’re so comically shallow and trite in that the rhetoric doesn’t even convince itself let alone some earnest reader. Read the piece again while considering the possibility that it’s a put on; then couple that thought with the oddness of the extremely vague contributor info to the byline; a M.A. student? Where? Any other pieces in her fiery pantheon? it’s a very strangely empty credential to be writing for so prolific a site, no?

  22. This is stuck in mod queue at CH but related to this thread as well so I’ll paste it:

    Stephen King wrote a short story in which a genius and an ultra-genius wanted to end all conflict on Earth. They studied human societies and controlling for every demographic factor, they identified a little town as most non-violent community on the planet. They attributed the eusociality of its residents to a rare chemical they detected in the town’s well waters, then they synthesized massive amounts of it, and timed a volcano’s eruption to spread this chemical worldwide.

    It worked. War all over the world ends, humanity becomes peaceful. But disturbing effects are also observed. As the narrative progresses, the fist-person narrator (the lesser of the two geniuses) begins to make typos and then the very level of the author’s prose deteriorates to elementary school level, and below. The speaker manages to inform the readers, before his IQ drops to retardation levels, that he had belatedly discovered that the chemical, which appeared in trace amounts in the town they studied, and which they inflicted in concentrated form on the entire planet, causes alzheimer’s disease.

  23. Stephen King. Severely underrated author. Kinda weak short story, though. And he’s taken a sharp left turn of late.

    But read his entire catalogue. So much work – so much evolution. We won’t see anyone like him again in our lifetimes.

  24. “Stephen King wrote a short story in which a genius and an ultra-genius wanted to end all conflict on Earth.”

    A friend had me read that one in college (it was pretty new then). I was amused. I thought it maybe tied in a bit with the rave culture of the time too. I read a few of the other stories though and his writing had turned pretty much to bilge by then. There was one with space worms attacking a space station, the astronauts screaming, “I can feel the worms eating my brain!!!!” So sad!

    King nursed a long coke habit, through “The Tommyknockers”, and I doubt it did his writing “good”; but kicking it doesn’t seem to have sobered his muse either.

    Several years ago, based upon some impassioned essays at amazon which insist the original 70s edition of “The Stand” is far superior to his early 90s remix [NB: and the case is also pretty watertight that a lot of what he added was not original material cut back then but rethinking/rewrites], I ordered a used copy and gave it a try.

    I agree that it’s better, but it’s still goofy. King writes all his characters in the same voice, and his Antichrist Las Vegas schtick is very B-movie esque. I guess I can see why teens would like it, but it’s really a mess.

    Oh and then there’s the weird omnipresence of “The Dead Zone” right now on every paperback rack at every grocery store. Kinda like gas in an ISIS warehouse, waiting to go off whenever . . .

    The “Night Shift” stories contain perhaps much of his best work. I was contemplating a John Scalzi parody based around “Springheel Jack” (?) but right now I’m contemplating a Nancy Drew/David Lynch parody of Nancy May.

    lolzlz but then, I wrote so many poems today, maybe I’ve got all that out of my system . . .

  25. I copied it to the new thread and respect the Rules as set forth.

    Further, I do appreciate that my previous comments on the topic of my bete noir, remain, as they raise a fair and valid question.

    [no biggie, i wasn’t thinking of any specific person and i was guilty of the same. chalk it up to friday’s chillout. besides, one gets war-fatigue from reading and discussing the current Invasion, and Warsaw Uprising is outside of mainstream interest. — PA]

  26. Looks like my elementary school classroom. We wore those red neck-scarves too, but I don’t remember if it was every day or just for ceremonial occasions.

  27. a couple of years ago.
    on the dark night streets of Vienna. heading home. drunk. walking funny.
    3 niggerians aproach me laughing, thinking they caught an easy prey.
    demand money, threaten violence mocking.
    i get my 40cm butterfly out. with joker face invite them to a dance of death.
    i walk towards them.
    they were just kidding. confused me for a brother it seems.
    they run in panick.

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