The Captive Mind, 2017

MGE relates this snapshot of human interaction in late-liberal America, describing a young woman’s condition of living-in-unreality:

The other day I was driving through a gentrifying neighborhood in Detroit, and I witnessed a disgusting scene that I see time and time again in this city. A black guy, probably in his early 20’s, walking along the sidewalk eating out of a fast food bag. As he sauntered down the street, he simply threw his trash on the ground as he ate, burger wrapper, french fry box, empty paper cup, napkins, ketchup packets, and finally the bag itself. This was done in view of a trash can placed at the end of the block. If there is anything disgusts me it’s littering. If I see someone litter, I immediately know everything I need to know about that person’s character. I see this all the time in Detroit, driving behind an Escalade for instance, when the tinted window is rolled down just enough to shove multiple bags of trash right onto the street. This is why if you go to Detroit, one of the first things you will notice is garbage everywhere.

When I saw this the other day, I pointed it out to my white liberal passenger, partially out of my disgust but also to needle her to see what her (predictable) reaction would be. She of course, launched into a litany of excuse making straight out of her freshman “Race, Gender, Class” text book… “he’s not educaaaated!! it’s apaaaathy!! It’s Povertyyyyy!! It’s a reaction to gentrificaaation!!!” I pointed out that he is wearing air jordan’s that cost well over $100, and she had a pre-packaged excused for that too: “It’s important for People of Color, especially low income, to dress so as to appear higher than their Socioeconomic Status (SES)..” She was palpably annoyed that I had the gall to criticize a Person Of Color, and implied that I check my white privilege. Now I am quite certain if that scene played out in a rural area with a white guy littering (which I never see), she would be the first to fume on about him being a white trash redneck, hick.

This is the kiked out feminized garbage that is being indoctrinated into every student who enters the University system… if you talk to just about any Millennial, especially female, who has been exposed to this they will be well versed in this jargon… white privilege, white supremacy, patriarchy, People of Color, systemic racism, microaggressions, colonized spaces, safe spaces, “becky’s”, mediocre whiteness, whiteness in general, blah blah blah. Just ask Pete, I think it was him who made the comment on Millennials on a previous thread. It is not uncommon at all for even white (women) mostly to adopt this mush-brained worldview that is framed entirely by identity politics, as you saw above with that latino girl hysterically ranting about how Trump is committing “literal genocide.” If you think that is over the top, you have no idea… there are late stage Millennials I know that talk like that all the time. They think they are being smart and edgy when they go on like this. My boomer Mom didn’t quite believe it until one day she was called a white supremacist for making an innocuous comment on Facebook that was related to real estate, nothing to do with race. Jordan Peterson had a good lecture explaining why this stuff appeals to women so much; it has to do with the maternal instinct warped in the wrong direction.

Bottom line, these so called enlightened liberal women see People of Color as their little pets, who just haven’t been trained well, like a pit bull they adopted who bites the mail man. Since I care nothing for women’s opinion of me, I usually push back pretty hard. If you encounter a man who talks like that, well that’s a sad thing to witness – I’m just grossed out by his presence and the stench of weakness that follows him.


Now back to me, PA.

I’m fascinated by the process through which thought, and even someone’s very soul, can be corrupted. In 1953 Czesław Miłosz wrote The Captive Mind, a monumental work about the symbiosis between totalitarian regimes and the human mind.

Salutary Images of Piety

Imagine having a country of your own, in which the ruling anti-immigration government enjoys record popularity, defies the European Union’s demands for population replacement, champions its own culture above all others, and secures a future for its people.

No one nation owns virtue and every nation has people who cause it shame. But some countries have a legitimate government and had been protected from Western liberalism by the Iron Curtain.

Women inspire, men act. You see both in this video, which shows an estimated 50,000 patriots marching through Warsaw on a cold, rainy day in November 2015. But first, a young Joan of Arc denounces foreign threats against her country and then directly addresses the enemy:

Islamic imam: you will not bring any of your laws here. This is Poland. This is our land. Our country. Our rules and values. Here — Jesus Christ is King. We are not interested in any immigration directives or quotas. I repeat: these are not our wars. Not our culture. Not our faith. And not our immigrants.

[update 6/12/2019: youtube took down the original video; see the one below, her speech begins just after 5:15]

“Here — Jesus Christ is King.”

Everybody want something real. Europeans hunger for more than this:


Salutary Images of Violence

On the title of this post: “salutary” denotes a healing effect on something that is unwell. That something is Western men’s confidence, specifically their sense of mastery over their public space. This enervation was engineered by the entertainment-education complex of Western countries bombarding boys with emasculating messages, and enforced by the police state.

There is a thirst for images that aggrandize young European men as Whites. The video below shows a White trucker drop an African criminal to the ground with one strike to the head.

While there are revealed aggregate differences among European nations, I don’t think that any group can claim to be innately manlier than others. Eastern Europeans are enjoying a deserved reputation for fortitude in the face of poz & mud today, thanks to the patriotism of their governments and because they hadn’t been subjected to the same demoralization program as their western brothers.

UPDATE: the famous Deus Vult video from France:

This blog does not endorse violence. It does not endorse anything; it’s a forum for an exchange of ideas among intelligent and self-moderating individuals.

Pretty Faces

Hope Sandoval is deep inside herself, a diva reputed for her paralyzing stage fright.

“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” ― Pablo Neruda

Mary Hopkins’ finishing-school “daahnce” is a turn-on. Smiling is a vocalist’s challenge. Having a genuine bright-eyed freshness is another professional challenge, but not for her.

“Why, he wondered, should he remember her suddenly, on such a day, watching the rain falling on the apple trees?” ― Daphne du Maurier

Melania Mina Špiler is not as Apollonian as she’d have you think. See her eyes roll back and her breasts heave in preemptive surrender to her great teacher.

“She had curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes; eyes that were very pretty and very good.” ― Charles Dickens

Courtney Love speaks to our spirit in this live performance, climaxing in whooping cough at 2:45. Her Pacific Northwest accent is pretty, like when she says “pahhhrrrts.”

“She had the secret of individuality which excites and escapes.” ― Joseph Conrad

You remember your first make-out with a girl (or otherwise). Tell us about it if you’re not shy. I described mine here.

Open thread.

The Purpose of Blogging

The big questions have been answered.

There is no debate with liberals because there is nothing to debate.

We tore the curtain down.

Our two peace offerings, Obama and Trump, were spit back in our faces.

The moneylenders lied us into slavery.

da goyim know.

Our governments want us turned into animals.

The air is brown with their mischief.

Three deceived generations is enough. There is a hunger for a path toward the truth; Alt-Right blogs are dynamic parallel institutions spontaneously created as a truth-seeking alternative to the unreality. Knowledge is our privilege, our responsibility is to lead according to our ability.

How to Get a Job at a Construction Site (by a VP reader)

Good pointers for a young man starting out. Also for a laid-off white collar worker or a service-sector worker who wants a change. Reader Ned leaves this long comment:


How do you get a young man hired? Here’s what I suggest they do if they don’t know anyone, or don’t see help wanted signs:

Go to the jobsite at 7:AM. Ask to speak to the Superintendent – tell him you are willing to do anything. He likely won’t believe you. He’s probably tried 50 young men who weren’t up to the task, or who said they were hungry but didn’t show up. Bring gloves and pack a lunch. Dress appropriately – not in those women’s flood pants and pink high-top tennies. Don’t even LOOK at your phone. Keep it in the lunch box or car. Keep the ear buds OUT of your ears.

If you don’t get hired, go back the next day and ask again. Also ask if any of the subs [subcontractors] need anyone, and ask whom to speak with.

Remember – these guys are not going to believe that the young man will actually show up until he does. Showing up repeatedly will demonstrate a willingness to work and a tenacious spirit. This has worked for others, I promise you.

Also, be prepared to do the crappiest work possible. Be ready for someone to work your ass off. I’m 60, and can’t find a kid who can hang with me working all day. That’s alright though – keep the earbuds out, do what’s asked to the best of your ability as quickly as possible. There may be some assholes present. Don’t let that get to you. You are trying to earn their respect. They will kid with you. Everything you hear will be politically incorrect. Be careful – don’t fall into a trap of thinking it’s OK for you to communicate that way. You will know when it’s time.

Remember that you will have to put in some time before you get recognition. After you are there a while, you can begin asking people how to get into any trade that you find interesting. When people see you working, it’s also likely they will try to hire you. If you can hang, you will move up.

You will also have this as experience when asked the next time you are looking for work. Experience can only be gained by doing. This is about getting a foot in the door.

Also – remember you are not looking for a job – you are looking for work. Nothing is too demeaning. If you aren’t doing it, someone else will be doing it – even me.

Now go get some experience working. It will serve you whatever you end up doing.


What Is A “Spiritual Home”?

My sympathy for the so-called Nazi-LARPing Alt-Reich, to reiterate for the sake of clarity, does not extend to people who willfully sabotage pro-White activism. If you see someone with a Hakenkreuz banner materialize at your rally, taunt him: “Hey there, how ya doin’ buddy! Are you with FBI or Homeland Security?” Your group can chant: “Hey hey F-B-I / Faking’ like he’s you and I!” I just came up with that, you can probably think of something more catchy.

On the other hand, the tough-love harshness of Alt-Right’s “anti-swastika” rhetoric is generating a backlash — and at least one gently-worded expression of dissent. A guest-post at Vox Popoli titled Mail Vox: the Origins of the Alt-Retard makes a case for sympathy. In his short introduction, Vox Day concurs with his correspondent’s charitable attitude:

A Generation X reader sent me this analysis of the Fake Right Clown Posse, which somehow manages to be both sympathetic of the plight being faced by the young men of today and contemptuous of what some of them have become in response. I think he is largely correct, and explains why their attempts to defend their race and their nations so often go awry.

We have no choice but to help them. The challenge is that the only answer to ignorance is information, and as we know, as we have witnessed, there are some who cannot be instructed by information.

The Alt-Right vs Alt-Reich conflict are reminiscent of the battle between Principal Vernon and John Bender in The Breakfast Club:

[starts at 1:08 min.]
John Bender
: Eat my shorts.
Principal Vernon: What was that?
Bender: Eat… My… Shorts.
Vernon: You just bought yourself another Saturday [detention].
Bender: Ooh, I’m crushed.
Vernon: You just bought one more.
Bender: Well I’m free the Saturday after that. Beyond that, I’m going to have to check my calendar.
Vernon: Good, cause it’s going to be filled. We’ll keep going. You want another one? Just say the word say it. Instead of going to prison you’ll come here. Are you through?
Bender: No.
Vernon: I’m doing society a favor.
Bender: So?
Vernon: That’s another one right now! I’ve got you for the rest of your natural born life if you don’t watch your step. You want another one?
Bender: Yes.
Vernon: You got it! You got another one right there! That’s another one pal!
. . .
Vernon: You through?
Bender: Not even close bud!
Vernon: Good! You got one more right there!
Bender: You really think I give a shit?
Vernon: Another! You through?
Bender: How many is that?

Youth scorns the wisdom of age, age forgets the urgency of youth. Vernon is an asshole but he is doing his job. Bender got a raw deal but he’s fighting the wrong war. The above scene dramatically foreshadows the recent debate between Vox Day and Andrew Anglin — their roles in this asymmetrical clash, if abstracting away the particular qualities of each man, is best appreciated as a conflict between Realist and Romantic souls.

My catholic (lower-case) impulses insist on a balance of both because Romanticism tends to bring short-term loss and long-term gain, while Realism tends to the opposite effect. Back to the guest-post at Vox Popoli. It concludes with:

But while it may feel good for hopeless young men to meme out images of Schutzstaffel Pepes gassing hooknose rabbis, at the end of the day it’s just reactionary child’s play that produces nothing and leads to nothing – nothing for the young men themselves, and nothing for the Western civilization which needs to be not only defended, but first rediscovered by generations of miseducated young men that have been denied their birthright and their spiritual home.

It’s a good post but its final phrase “spiritual home” raises a question: what does it mean?

Fatigue kicks in when writing an ambitious article. A writer’s exhaustion can even be inferred in professionally edited books written by Nobel Prize-winning authors. For example, Czesław Miłosz’s 1959 memoir Native Realm, which I’ve reflected on and which is the most mind-expanding book I’ve (re)read in years, winds down with what struck me as a satisfying conclusion to a great literary work, but also one whose very final word rang false:

Through defeats and disasters, humanity searches for the elixir of youth; that is, of life made into thought, the ardor that upholds belief in the wider usefulness of our individual effort, even if it apparently changes nothing in the iron working of the world. It may be that we Eastern Europeans have been given the lead in this search. By choosing, we had to give up some values for the sake of others, which is the essence of tragedy. Yet only such an experience can whet our understanding, so that we see an old truth in a new light: when ambition counsels us to lift ourselves above simple moral rules guarded by the poor in spirit, rather than to choose them as our compass needle amid the uncertainties of change, we stifle the only thing that can redeem our follies and mistakes: love.

Native Realm is a brilliant autobiography, yet I reckon the author, exhausted as he penned the book’s final paragraph, slid into home plate with a rote appeal to Platonic love. As with “love,” so it is with appeals to evocations to thing “spiritual.” One example of where I stumbled over that latter word: I sought to describe the late Lawrence Auster’s contribution, ultimately settling on this sentence:

A modern-day monk, Auster wrestled his whole life with the metaphysical questions of our era.

But in an earlier draft, I wrote “spiritual questions of our era” and the invisible editor objected: “What are you trying to say with that adjective? You’re lazy.” He was right. The hackneyed “spiritual” flashes an image of affected piety. That’s not what I wanted to convey about Auster’s writing. Like “love,” “spiritual” doesn’t mean anything to me if there isn’t a dialectical build-up to justify the use of such a heavy word. So I changed that to “metaphysical,” and the passage finally communicated something meaningful about his labors.

Love and spiritual home are real things. But what and where are those things?