“Maeror”

You may have seen a post titled An American Pietà a month ago at the Château, which features an artist’s letter to Heartiste:

Although I was familiar with the case and had seen the photograph before, I was not yet prepared for the emotional impact of your accompanying message and the commentary to the posting. It was so stunning that I chose the subject and your message to create a painting, my rendition to the last photograph of Mrs. Weaver. This painting is named “Maeror” roughly translated from Latin to grief or suffering.

Daniele Vek’s full letter is in the original CH post, describing how she was moved by the following photo and an accompanying comment, both of which I had posted at Château Heartiste three years earlier:

crosshairs

My accompanying comment:

This photo [is] my contribution to the “Goodbye America” series. It’s different than the usual images of degeneracy. Instead, it is a tragic snapshot of what was good and noble.

Look at the photo. Haunting, isn’t it?

It’s a US Marshalls surveillance image of the Weaver ranch ahead of the Ruby Ridge massacre. The woman in the photo is Vicki Weaver, who would later that day be shot through the head by an Asian-American FBI sniper, while standing in a cabin door and holding her and Randy’s baby.

If I understand the timeline of events correctly, Vicki Weaver in this photo is mourning the death of her 14-year old son Sammy, killed by the feds earlier that day. If that’s the case, the photo is an American Pietà.

This is Daniele’s sublime painting; I see sorrow… and vengeance:

maeror-by-vek

(c) 2017 Daniele Vek

***

Les Saunders, Protestant recalls the 1990s:

I was just a kid at the time, but in America, and even in my own household, Ruby Ridge, Waco, and Oklahoma City represented a turning point. That turning point was where the faith of heritage Americans, and of my old stock Canadian relatives, in government and The System was officially dead.

While as of the early 1990s the assault against us had been well underway for decades, it was by this point that effects of this campaign were visceral and not up for debate. Decades of open borders had made third worlders an unavoidable fact of life in our cities. 12 years of Reagan-Bush yielded only broken promises of “read my lips, no new taxes”, amnesty, and regulations. Degeneracy was being bulldozed on us with “Friends” and the “first homosexual kiss on television” (the Ellen Degenerate show). Welfare, urban decay, crime, job losses, and the mainstreaming of rap and black drug culture had taken its toll. And to cap it all off, the election of an open pervert and sexual deviant by the name of William Jefferson Clinton (albeit with a slim plurality of votes owing to the Ross Perot candidacy, which was, in part, a heritage reaction to mounting degeneracy), decorated with innocuous baby boomer dad jeans, sneakers, and a Strong Empowered Modern Wife.

Americans naturally responded to this growing mess, but the only option they had was Newt Gingrich and the Contract with America in 1994. What did that get us? Some cutting of muh taxes but mostly globalist trade deals and hypocritical attacks on Rapin’ Bill for the viewers at home.

Make no mistake, the bullet fired at Vicki Weaver was a bullet fired at all of Heritage America and the baby you’re cradling in your arms today.

God willing, President Trump knows the score (he does) and will return the country to its rightful owners.

God bless.

Mister President, we trust you. You’ve seen us at the rallies. Give us one good General and then give us the word, Sir.

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Gamma Males And Violence

A strange man asks me: “Are you leaving soon?”

I’m with my family in a large coffee shop. Imagine an open floor plan with semi-private zones. Our table is at the far end of that configuration, near the children’s play area. We are having coffee and dessert, relaxing on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

The man looks upset. It’s the current year, everyone’s on edge. I tell him “No.” He’s an awkward fellow in his thirties. Given the odd way which he interrupted me and to ensure that he isn’t in distress, I ask him: “Do you need something?” He replies, with an irate note: “Yeah, I was really hoping to sit where I can keep an eye on my kids.”

He’s not in distress. He’s simultaneously confrontational and nervous about causing a scene. I tell him: “We’ll be here for a while,” then I up-nod: “There are other tables.” I deem the conversation finished.

He snorts: “Well, thank you for being so considerate!”

“Any time.”

My wife makes a wry observation, I make a funny face about whole thing. Meanwhile, the guy is making a major production of dragging a table, and then some chairs, toward where he wants to sit. If I were to escalate — for example, had he cursed — I’d have eyeballed him and said: “Is there some problem you want to discuss?” But there was no reason to do that.

I later mentioned the incident to a fellow-AltRight friend, who said: “Looks like you were dealing with a textbook gamma male. It was his passive-aggressive huffing after you shrugged him off.” Good point. One crosses paths with gamma males online and recognizes the dysfunction in public figures, but for my part, I don’t often look for or notice such examples in person.

***

To segue to the second half of the title of this post, violence. Nothing violent happened in that coffee shop but a few days ago I saw the following comment from Koanic on Gab.ai, which put my brief encounter into the context of fighting:

Violence is more honest than speech
because violence tests the tribe’s martial virtue
whereas speech merely tests the popularity of lies.

Decentralized violence purifies lies,
as scaled violence serves great lies.

Koanic’s aphorism reminded me that gammas are cowardly because they want to attack you, often for reasons that exist solely in their heads, but they avoid direct confrontation out of fear. This is why they keep things at a passive-aggressive level… or else they go full-butcher when they have the power to do so. For example, the French Revolution devolved into absurd, from the standpoint of strategy, mass-murdering of ordinary townsfolk.

Violence, potential or realized, is part of life. Those of us who had been in real fights know that this is not frivolous business. An illustration from the proverbial bar on how violence can be handled:

  • A king in a bar: does what he wants, doesn’t cry when one day somebody kills him.
  • A normal man: doesn’t provoke, owns his space, picks his battles, and goes all-in when he commits to action.
  • A gamma: mouths off faster than he can rein in his repressed aggression, looks in panic for the bouncer.

Gammas instinctively favor centralized power because it gives them cover to run their mouths. And to push deeper into the gamma’s ugly psyche, positioning oneself on the favored side of power offers him a chance to destroy better men. In free local cultures, an honor code enforced by decentralized violence keeps everyone honest. The gamma can’t cut it there, at least not where his ambition outpaces his goods, so he subverts the natural order to advance a tyranny.

The Overton Window And Morale: Reagan To Trump

Question: When was political correctness worse — in the early 1990s or now?

Answer: Yes.

It’s the shape of the Overton Window, or the range of ideas that can be discussed in the extended circles of one’s peers. Below are graphic representations of the changing mores, which I created on the basis of my observation. The x-axis represents the Left-Right ideological continuum, the y-axis quantifies the social acceptability of each point along that continuum.

The bright part of the gradient marks the position of high morale.

Note: the notion of a political center is relative. What’s considered “far Right” is otherwise the healthy European norm but we are looking at Western politics in their modern expression, for better or worse.

Ronald Reagan: Morning in America

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It was a centrist era, with extreme viewpoints marginalized. If you were a communist, an AIDS activist, or conversely, a White nationalist, those were frustrating years. For everyone else though, the Eighties were an awesome, confident time. It was the apogee of civic nationalism, as I recently described its workings:

Civic nationalism appears to be incoherent or dishonest because it is. But as recently as three decades ago it worked because it was a compromise that relied on a tacit agreement among U.S. citizens of all backgrounds that the national culture will be based on Protestant values, that Whites are going to be a solid majority with the responsibility of running the country, that minorities (such a quaint word now) will enjoy the fruits of our labor and retain a desired measure of autonomy while remaining respectful of the prevailing norms, and that immigrants, allowed in on a color-blind basis, will “assimilate.” Also — and this was key — that certain taboos will be honored in a let’s not discuss it way, said taboos hinging on the more uncomfortable realities of human biodiversity and Whites’ natural disgust with mixing.

The theme song of the Reagan era is John Mellenkamp’s “Pink Houses.” The song is part landscape painting, part unheeded warning.

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I’m skipping over the George H.W. Bush term, which was a transition from Reagan to…


Bill Clinton: The End of History

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See the massing shift left, toward globalism and its subsidiary ideologies multiculturalism and resurgent feminism. The Left’s vanguard found its voice in Political Correctness, which was more benign than its present SJW iteration but which, in the Left’s monopoly on consensus at the time, made lonely men of dissidents. On two occasions, dissidents’ wives and children were murdered by U.S. federal agents.

The theme song of the Clinton era is the Scorpions’ “Winds of Change.” It’s about the high hopes early in the decade. Americans, Europeans, and Russians could have been partners in a resurgent Western Civilization, but that’s not how things had worked out.

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George W. Bush: Freedom Fries

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Look at that rightward lurch. It’s the apparent restoration of centrism under George W. Bush. But lying runs in that family, and Bush’s promises of restoring honor and humility were lies. Meanwhile, the Left was consolidating their gains from the early ’90s culture war. The public reveled in counterfeit prosperity until the housing boom broke the country’s middle class.

The music theme of the GWB era is Green Day’s “American Idiot” album. Sometimes even lefties notice the subliminal mind-fuck. It wasn’t a redneck agenda that drove the events, but there was an agenda. We didn’t pulverize the Eiffel Tower, but French kids were marked for death in its shadow.

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Barack Obama: “You Didn’t Build That”

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Hey, what’s that light on the far right?

Under Obama’s second term, the establishment dropped the liberal cloak that concealed their White genocide program. Dormant over the latter half of the 1990s and through Bush’s terms, political correctness returned as a malignant SJW strain — but unlike in the Clinton era, there was now an ascendant alternative Right. The dark middle of the graph is the center that would not hold.

Anything by Beyoncé will do as the soundtrack of the Obama era: a fake-talent bleached African strutting around and demanding a ring.

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Donald Trump (so far): No-Man’s Land

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Thirty years ago, centrism suppressed any expressions of relative extremism from both the Left or the Right. But as you’ve followed the spasms of the ideological consensus, you saw it first pull left, then split apart. Today, to be a moderate is to be stranded in no-man’s land, drawing fire from both sides.

What is the music of the nascent Trump era?

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Civic Nationalism

“When white people hear race, they think black, brown, red, and yellow; they don’t think white. That’s why white people can say, “Why don’t you people stop talking about race?” They believe that they are Americans. They don’t have a race. They think they don’t have a commitment to a particular ideology other than an ostensible neutrality and objectivity.” —Michael Eric Dyson

Dyson is describing civic nationalism. He might hear such pleas from conservatives and people who are squeamish about White identity in front of him. What does “American” mean any more? An Eritrean immigrant was recently hailed as the first American to win the Boston Marathon since [year]. You can’t even say I am a native American because that already means something else. All thirty two of your great-great-great-grandparents were born here and you aren’t a native American.

At the university, I pushed back on political correctness by relying on similar civic nationalism, my take being that our study of literature should focus on higher things, Matthew Arnold’s “best that had been said and thought” rather than the alien-sounding grievance poem by an ugly Chinese immigrant woman. I had little idea of identity then and I unquestioningly thought of myself as an American because I was white (lower case back then), responsible, hard-working, and an Army veteran.

That whole construction fell apart with the manic messages of inclusiveness, the dilution of the country with ongoing immigration, and the promotion of adversarial identity politics for everyone except us. White identity is a place we are being pushed to. Only an abject cuck, at this point — or a creature of habit and caked-up mental ear-wax — will look around and still insist that we are all Americans. What does American mean, if it officially means “everybody”?

We all experienced that moment when the immigration-invasion finally feels real. For one Irish-American, it happened last summer when the two of us drove into a state park and saw teeming masses of Mestizo families walking, pulling their coolers on their way to picnic. There were thousands of them. The shirtless men glared at us and the children were monstrously obese. It was like passing through a hostile foreign country.

Civic nationalism appears to be incoherent or dishonest because it is. But as recently as three decades ago it worked because it was a compromise that relied on a tacit agreement among U.S. citizens of all backgrounds that the national culture will be based on Protestant values, that Whites are going to be a solid majority with the responsibility of running the country, that minorities (such a quaint word now) will enjoy the fruits of our labor and retain a desired measure of autonomy while remaining respectful of the prevailing norms, and that immigrants, allowed in on a color-blind basis, will “assimilate.” Also — and this was key — that certain taboos will be honored in a let’s not do it and not discuss it way, said taboos hinging on the more uncomfortable realities of human biodiversity and Whites’ natural disgust with mixing.

That may have been workable in perpetuity as long as the numbers worked. But they had to open the borders, weaponize the blacks, open the borders some more, demoralize Whites, and openly declare a war of genocide against Whites.

When someone thirty years ago said: “Why don’t you people stop talking about race? can’t we all just be Americans?” — he was defending that civic nationalist arrangement I described above. People still say it out of habit or manners. But otherwise, nobody believes it any longer.

As Suburban_elk succinctly puts it, “[The Alt-Right] is quite simply the anecdote to that.” Under the pressure of neoliberalism, the European diaspora people of North America are securing their existence and a future for their children by discarding civic nationalism and developing a consciousness of their real identity. The future might be a great White Nation, or it can be a further refinement of identities along regional or cultural lines. Amazing things happen when people understand what they want and they go for it.

The Emmett Till Myth

How it began:

[21-year-old married White woman Carolyn] Bryant testified during the murder trial that Till grabbed her hand while she was stocking candy and said, “How about a date, baby?” She said that after she freed herself from his grasp, the young man followed her to the cash register, grabbed her waist and said, “What’s the matter baby, can’t you take it?” Bryant said she freed herself, and Till said, “You needn’t be afraid of me, baby,” used “one ‘unprintable’ word” and said “I’ve been with white women before.”

A healthy man’s blood temperature spikes as he reads that. In response, her husband with the help of other men (including definitely one and possibly two who were Black) tracked him down and killed him.

The incident was chosen by the national media to be spotlighted because a number of things, including Till’s young age of 14 and his diminutive-sounding first name, were suitable for crafting the event into a narrative-shaping story. All Americans watched the same news then and the journalism industry enjoyed high levels of public trust. There were no alternatives for presentation of facts or analysis. The media had godlike powers of directing public opinion.

Why is the killing of Emmett Till and the myth that it became so significant? Because White men have always lived and thrived on an honor code. Roy Bryant (Carolyn’s husband) did what honor required him to, starting with his obligation to protect his wife and to proactively address the insulting character of Till’s attack on her, just as women were, in turn, expected to live up to codes of honorable female behavior.

Elevating Till’s killing to a foundational morality tale of the so-called Civil Rights era was a coup against Western morality. Maudlin and ill-informed pity for Till subverted a social order based on masculine justice. I hope that this short analysis gives a clearer idea of how the dishonest interpretation of the incident helped emasculate America.

***

Sixty years later, corporate media unsuccessfully tried to reboot the “innocent black victim” narrative with Trayvon Martin. The people who were tasked with finding a source story for a sensational news event were sloppy. For example, they assumed that George Zimmerman was White, that he lived in an expensive gated community, and they failed to look into Martin’s social media history.

I still consider July 13, 2013 — Zimmerman’s acquittal — to be the day that the Narrative collapsed. The big lie that Till was killed for whistling at a woman and that Martin was killed for eating Skittles died that summer.

If you read the linked summary of Emmett Till’s killing, remember his responsibility for setting off the chain of events that led to his death. A sexual attack on another man’s wife is a death sentence in every civilized as well as every barbaric society; in other words, in any society that abides by objective codes of morality. It was an honor killing. The ordeal of Christopher Newsom and Channon Christian, in contrast with what happened to Emmett Till and as a direct result of the anti-White libel that his killing was crafted into, was mere subhuman savagery.