Motley Fairs

I love that stuff — the song at the end of the post. One of my early memories is hearing the Maryla Rodowicz song “Kolorowe Jarmarki” (Motley Fairs) on dad’s car radio in 1977 while driving past exactly such a market near Gdansk on vacation there. The song is in the tradition of farewell-to-summer odes that reverberate with larger nostalgia for one’s youth, like Don Henley’s “The Boys of Summer.” The next time I heard “Motley Fairs” was at 32.

Rodowicz’s songs are on YouTube, except that one. I did, however, find a cover by a contemporary Ukrainian artist I am not familiar with, Diana Osipchuk.

Her version rocks it out, whereas Rodowicz’s original 1977 song has a “country carnival” sound. Osipchuk does a nice job. What also interests me, is the tangent on ethnic diversity.

Specifically, the diversity among similar peoples. A foreigner will not tell a Yank from a Reb, but every American can. Similarly, there is a difference between Poles and Ukrainians despite the fact that we’re similar in look, language, and culture. Mushroom foraging in forests, for example, is a beloved pastime of all Slavs. Every kid in Poland and Ukraine knows wild mushrooms by name and knows the difference between a prized delicacy and something that will kill you.

Poland has accepted many Ukrainian immigrants over the recent years. Not good, we are two different nations. We’ve done horrific things to each other. That’s the past and the guilty are dead. No more brother wars. Following the hard-fought Poland-Ukraine game in the 2016 World Cup, the players from the opposing sides customarily shook hands, but then swapped their jerseys in a gesture of fraternity.

Ukrainians too, have their internal divisions.

So here is the song. Things that strike me about the cover-version performance:

Polish being a foreign (albeit similar) language for her, she sings it with a heavy accent. Non-native speakers, even other Slavs, have difficulty enunciating the clear vowels and the crisp clusters of Polish consonants. Other than micronation dialects within Poland itself (Kashub, Silesian, Highlander), Slovak is the closest language to Polish. We communicate easily in our respective languages.

At 3:19, she adds an alternate refrain in Ukrainian. I wonder if others pick up on this up too: once in her native language, she vocalizes much more freely.

Anyhow, a high-energy, charming cover. Дуже добре!

Kolorowe Jarmarki (Motley Fairs)
1977 original, 2014 cover below

Kiedy patrzę hen za siebie / When I look far back 
W tamte lata co minęły / At those years that passed
Kiedy myślę co przegrałam / When I think of what I lost 
A co diabli wzięli / And what the devils took
Co straciłam z własnej woli / What I lost on purpose
A co przeciw sobie / Or gave up in spite of myself
Co wyliczę to wyliczę / Whatever I’ll count, I count
Ale zawsze wtedy powiem / But I’ll always say
Że najbardziej mi żal / That what I miss the most is…

Kolorowych jarmarków, blaszanych zegarków / Motley fairs, tin watches
Pierzastych kogucików, baloników na druciku / Feathery cockerels, balloons on a wire
Motyli drewnianych, koników bujanych / Wooden butterflies, rocking horses
Cukrowej waty i z piernika chaty / Cotton candy and a gingerbread house

Tyle spraw już mam za sobą / So many things are now in the past
Coraz bliżej jesień płowa / Ever closer the pale autumn
Już tak wiele przeszło obok / So much has passed me by
Już jest co żałować / So much to long after
Małym rzeczom zostajemy / To the little things we remain
W pamiętaniu wierni / Faithful in rememberance
Zamiast serca noszę chyba / Instead of a heart I think I bear
Odpustowy piernik / A church-feast gingerbread 
Bo najbardziej mi żal / Because what I miss the most is…

[Refrain x2]

[Alternate refrain in Ukrainian added in this cover version at 3:19]

Why They Are Afraid Of Europeans

H/t Anonymous Conservative:

I keep hearing in my head an anon on 4Chan, who claimed to be a staffer at the Bilderburg meetings. He said everyone this year was terrified of the sudden rise of populism, and they all decided that over the next three years, all migrants will be sent back and the migration experiment is over.

It’s a well-argued point of faith in the Neoreaction that right wing folk activism is futile, if not counterproductive, because it has no support among the ruling classes. Two counterpoints. One, boldness creates its own support. Two, honor is outside of political calculus.

This is why they are afraid:














People attend Hungarian march at a pro-Orban rally during Hungary's National Day celebrations in Budapest






Protesters carry Polish flags and National Radical Camp flags during a rally, organised by far-right, nationalist groups, to mark 99th anniversary of Polish independence in Warsaw



Riot police remove their helmets and join nationalist demonstrators





“Here, Jesus Christ is King.”

The speech.

“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”

It’s Never Going Back To How It Was


A two-year sentence for an illegal alien who killed a man and his two kids.


There is no going back to the Constitution. President Trump knows it, his bolshevik enemies know it. There is no way in hell that Trump doesn’t have a succession plan to ensure that executive power never falls back into the hands of the Uniparty whose sixteen-year plan to eradicate Whites was interrupted. Plus there is a mountain of scores to be settled.

Patience. Two things are becoming clear. That Trump is leading a movement that had been in preparation since at least Reagan’s presidency. And that the purpose of his first term is to set up the strike.

MGE observes:

The question is, how much longer can the center hold?

I am starting to see a very rapid tribal polarization in this country, and as allegiances harden, what forces could bring them back together? What’s remarkable is that this is occurring during a period of economic prosperity. What will happen during the next recession?

Consider the following:

* The left is no longer even pretending to support free speech anymore. The formerly non-partisan ACLU is now getting involved in elections in support of progressive candidates and will no longer support free speech that is pro-white.

In an internal memo obtained by the Wall Street Journal, the ACLU nows says that when choosing clients, they will take into account several factors, including “the potential impact on the ACLU’s credibility” and “the potential harm to important relationships and ACLU standing.” What’s worse, the memo goes on to lay out “Considerations Specific to Speech Cases,” including the “impact of the proposed speech,” the “potential effect on marginalized communities,” and whether “the speech may assist in advancing the goals of white supremacists or others whose views are contrary to our values.”

We all know “white supremacist” means when it is used by the left: it’s any form of speech or activism that is explicitly in the interests of white people. According to the ACLU, any form of speech is worthy of first amendment protection, including pro-pedophilia speech, but anything pro-white is a no-no.

* Trump staffers are being harassed in public. Maxine Waters is now openly calling for more of this, without censure from her colleagues in Congress.

* Charles Blow just wrote an op-ed essentially acknowledging that whites are being replaced, but we should shut up and take it up the ass.

* Silicon Valley Tech companies are not even pretending to be politically neutral anymore. Consider the following tweets by Peter Fonda:

“Sarah Sanders is a lying gash, too. And “gash” is much worse than cunt. Maybe we should take her children away and deport her to Arkansas, and giving her children to Stephen Goebbels Miller for safe keeping.”

“Kristjen Nielsen is a lying gash that should be put in a cage and poked at by passerby. The gash should be pilloried in Lafayette Square naked and whipped by passersby while being filmed for posterity.”


That last tweet triggered a secret service investigation. Yet, Fonda not only gets to stay on Twitter, he gets to keep his blue checkmark. Jared Taylor, on the other hand, violated no Twitter terms of service, and was booted from the platform for being associated with “violent extremist groups,” or something.

These are just a few examples of the polarization I have seen within the last week. I don’t see any sign of this letting up. I’m not seeing any potential leaders on the horizon that would be capable of dialing this back. When I see this stuff happening, I wonder if things could spin apart faster than anyone anticipated.


Idle Thoughts On Italian Pop Songs

Someone posted on Gab:

Look how fast the Italians went full Mussolini shortly after a nignog murdered a single Italian whore. The Italian Tommy Robinson just went on a shooting spree and was hailed as a hero.

Rispettiamo Luca Traini

And another surmised:

It always starts with Italy, from the Renaissance to Mussolini. I can’t wait for what they’ll start next!




The next step is a strafing run on the boats.

I did visit Italy once, in 1997. As part of my Western European tour with a couple of friends, we traveled along France’s Mediterranean coast and Monaco up into Italy through Turin, stopping at an Alpine town Ivrea for the night.

On to the pop songs.

The musical duo Albano Carrissi and Romina Power frames my idle thoughts. Carissi’s mother named him Albano (stage name Al Bano) because at the time of his birth his father was fighting in Albania for the Italian army during World War II. Romina Power is American. The two were married from 1970 to 1999 and had four children. One of their daughters went missing in New Orleans in 1994 and is declared dead, an unsolved case.

 “Tu, soltanto tu.” This 1982  live performance captures their chemistry. He strikes me as an earthy guy whose short stature keeps him humble. She’s a coquette, with those smoldering glances at the camera. (Yes, I am aware of her role in Justine)

“Felicita” is their biggest hit, which they perform here. A good pop song is a drug and I’m high on this one. As with the previous song, they’re young here. She’s in her twenties, he’s eight years older. She’s the minx, he’s coming into his own.

Young love. This is when they were much younger. They both look like teenagers. The song is “Ti Amo,” its most famous version being by Umberto Tocci. The song’s intro:

Ti amo / I love you
un soldo (ti amo) in aria (ti amo) / a coin in mid-air
se viene testa vuol dire che basta / if it’s heads it’s over
lasciamoci (ti amo) in sogno (ti amo) / let it all have been a dream
in fondo un uomo / deep down I am not
che non ha freddo nel cuore / a cold-hearted man
nel letto comando io / I take charge in bed

ma tremo davanti al tuo seno / but I tremble at your breast
ti odio e ti amo / I hate you and love you

Nationalism is setting the stage for this generation of White kids to know young love, which is the desire to find a wholesome age-mate to build a future with. They will be chastened by what we failed to safe-keep for them. Their destiny is to take back what’s theirs.

The Arc of Life. Though divorced, Al Bano and Romina Power reunited in this 2018 medley of their best-known songs. It’s an uncanny thing, to see someone at 25 in one video and then as a septuagenarian. They sound good, neither has an old-person voice. The gorgeous young fans in the audience, most of whom weren’t even born during the duo’s heyday, sing along to their hits.

Italy, the birthplace of beauty.

The Tarantella is a southern Italian dance. Nice stuff! Sometimes an amateur performance is more fun than watching professional dancers. Guarda queste ragazze. A bit stiff at first, then they really get into the dance:

Womp, Womp!

THAT’s how you deal with lib histrionics. Like demons, they have no power over you unless you let them. No apology, no backtracking, no effort at communication with the party that had forsaken every avenue of communication.

It’s fascinating how far our real and putative representatives in the public forum have come. Once you understand that your political foes are irrational, fanatical, that they hate you, that they will destroy you the moment you show good-faith softness (witness SJWs’ destruction of anyone who apologizes for a minor ideological misstep) – you stop treating them like a legitimate party. Like a rebuffed demon, the liar-lib is reduced to impotent howling.

“You knew how to catch my hand”

Happy Father’s Day.

Two years ago I posted my translation of Zbigniew Herbert’s eulogy-poem “Thoughts About My Father.” The short poem is an arc that begins with the author’s earliest memories of his dad, on through the old man’s decline and death, and beyond to unfinished business.

Also that year, I also compiled father-son songs for the occasion.

How To Help Prevent Mudsharking is not only my all-time most-popular post, it is also a valuable guide for parents of small children that transcends its title.

I thought I’d make this a Father’s Day post for those of you who have girls. I don’t have any daughters so take my exhortation (lock her in an alcove, condition her to flinch when you chamber the backhand, limit her schooling to fifth grade and home crafts) with a grain of salt. Any words of experience from parents of girls?

My thoughts: she was created to submit to male authority. You have the “right of first refusal” as to the source of that authority. Raise her so that she goes to Heaven. She won’t get fat on your watch. Wife, nun, prostitute: choose one. Boys can learn from their mistakes, girls double-down on theirs. She is not the son you never had. Get a good son-in-law and grandchildren through her.

I was at a youth athletic event yesterday. A nine-year-old girl who participates in that league playfully flicked a much younger girl’s ear while walking past the back of her chair. The little girl, maybe three years old, turned around startled. Then her face lit up as she recognized the older one.

There is a time for cynicism, for world-weary facts and logic. But nothing we do would be worth our efforts if there weren’t something that’s higher than those things. I was, for a moment, amazed by the twin-burst of sunlight as the two golden-haired girls goofed with each other, pure joy in their eyes. I vicariously understood a father’s protectiveness for his daughter.

Varius Manx – “Ruchome Piaski” (Quicksand) – 1996

Ja – zamknięta szczelnie w swej skorupie  /  I – tightly shut inside my shell
Ja – powoli staram się zrozumieć  /  I – am slowly trying to understand
Czemu chroniłeś mnie  /  Why you protected me
Wiem, że ciągle próbowałeś pomóc  /  I know, that you always tried to help
Wiem, że miałam Twoje słowa za nic  /  I know, that I ignored your words
Wiem już – myliłam się  /  I know now – I was wrong

Teraz, gdy w ruchomych piaskach tonę  /  Now that I’m drowning in quicksand
I kiedy cała przeszłość przed oczami  /  And when the entire past is in front of my eyes
Rozumiem, rozumiem swój błąd  /  I understand, I understand my mistake
Lecz cofnąć się nie mam szans  /  But there is no possibility of going back
Kiedy ziemia niknie pod nogami  /  When the ground disappears beneath my feet
I gdy już wiem  /  And now that I know
że mogłam wszystko zmienić
  /  that I could have changed everything

Rozumiem, już rozumiem swój błąd  /  I understand, I now understand my mistake
Lecz za późno już…  /  But it’s too late now…

Ty – wiedziałeś, którą wybrać ścieżkę  /  You – knew which path to choose
Ty – umiałeś chwycić mnie za rękę  /  You – knew how to catch my hand
Kiedy spadałam w mrok  /  When I was falling into murk
Dziś brakuje mi Twej dobrej rady  /  Today I miss your good advice
Dziś nie umiem sobie z tym poradzić  /  Today I can’t manage any of this
Dzisiaj zapadam się  /  Today, I am crumbling


(Lyrics: Andrzej Ignatowski; music: Robert Janson)

Liberal Democracy VS Tradition In A Photo

South Korea vs. North Korea:


Those are parodic and idealized images, respectively, of the two states. The one on the left shows castration and frivolity. The one on the right lionizes traditional virtues.

Of course, those don’t represent the full reality of Korea’s political systems. The ROK and KATUSA soldiers I trained with in South Korea looked more like the man on the right and an average North Korean male looks more like a starving peasant. Yet the collage delivers the payload because it communicates recognizable truths:

  • Liberal regimes idealize and promote degeneracy.
  • Nationalistic regimes idealize and promote vigor.

Propaganda and reality may miss each other in practice, but even if one country’s reputation for male softness is exaggerated and another’s uprightness is limited to state-approved images, you’re still recognizing a given regime’s aspirational iconography for what it is: the direction it would have you go.

(PS: Liberal democracy, as shorthand for political self-determination of stakeholding citizens,  has a bug that allows those who manipulate public opinion to pit one half of the people against the other half. Alternatives to liberal democracy have their problems but “dogs at each others’ throats” over fabricated wedge-issues is not one of them.)

Pre-revolutionary England

The Scouring of the Shire.

That “Tommy Tommy Tommy Robinson” song the English protesters are chanting is catchy. A revolutionary song. Then the crowd chants thunderously “Shame on you!” at the police. It’s going to be a source of shame, and possibly fear, to be an English policeman.

I saw this in Poland when Communism was on its last legs (Though it didn’t feel that way at the time. People continued to be afraid of the secret police).

The “villain-face” of that regime was its subservience to the USSR, the economic austerity, and the aggressive black-out about Katyń Massacre. The “villain-face” of UK’s current regime is the paki-pedo alliance, anarcho-tyranny, and population replacement.

I’ve been saying this since at least 2009: soon, people will stop believing in neoliberalism and its subsidiary anti-racist ideologies. And after that, people will stop pretending to believe.

See London cops run like rabbits when “Free Tommy” protesters chase them down.

Reconciliation Songs

Pink Floyd “Lost For Words” (1994)

Can you see your days blighted by darkness?
Is it true you beat your fists on the floor?
Stuck in a world of isolation
While the ivy grows over the door

So I open my door to my enemies
And I ask could we wipe the slate clean?
But they tell me to please go fuck myself
You know you just can’t win

Pink Floyd “Poles Apart” (1994)

The rain fell slow, down on all the roofs of uncertainty
I thought of you and the years and all the sadness fell away from me
And did you know
I never thought that you’d lose that light in your eyes

“Poles Apart” features David Gilmour’s last great guitar outro.

Former friends and even family members despise one another over political allegiance. You might mourn the loss of a friendship if you attribute the rift to irresistible forces. In other instances your anger will turn to contempt and then indifference.

None of the above is about romantic falling out, where once it’s over, it’s over. “It Wasn’t Supposed To Be Like This” by the band Budka Suflera is about the hope for two friends, maybe even for a divided nation, to reconcile one day. But not today, when there is no neutral ground.

And that’s for the best. Judge and be judged. Sorting takes many forms. “Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.”

Budka Suflera “To Nie Tak Miało Być” (1989)

To nie tak miało być  /  It wasn’t supposed to be like this
Zupełnie nie tak  /  Not at all like this
Cały świat miał być nasz  /  The whole world was supposed to be ours
Tylko go brać  /  For the taking
Świat poszedł swoją drogą  /  The world went on its own way
Zostawił nas  /  Left us behind
Coraz rzadziej się śnią  /  So rarely now do we dream
Tęczowe mosty  /  Of bright bridges

To nie tak miało być  /  It wasn’t supposed to be like this
Zupełnie nie tak  /  Not at all like this
Ty i ja jedno drzewo  /  You and I, one tree
Jedna w nas krew  /  One blood flows through us
Ty w końcu poszłaś swoją drogą  /  You finally went your own way
Ja inną drogę znam  /  I know another path
Czy się przetną czy nie  /  Will they cross or not
Jeden Bóg tylko wie  /  Only God knows

Może spotkamy się  /  Maybe we’ll meet
Tam, gdzie trafi każdy z nas  /  There, where each of us ends up
Tam gdzie życie będzie snem  /  Where life will be a dream
Może spotkamy się  /  Maybe we’ll meet
Tam, gdzie w miejscu stoi czas  /  There, where time stands still
Za sto lat, za rok, za dzień  /  In one hundred years, next year, tomorrow

[Guitar solo]

To nie tak miało być  /  It wasn’t supposed to be like this
Zupełnie nie tak  /  Not at all like this
My i wy, mur bez skazy  /  Our side and yours, an unblemished wall
Kryształ i stal  /  Crystal and steel
Przemalowani, podzieleni  /  Repainted, sorted
Na dobrych i złych  /  Into the good and the evil
Na siebie warcząc jak psy  /  Snarling at one another like dogs
Żyjemy tak tyle dni  /  That’s how we spend our days

Może spotkamy się  /  Maybe we’ll meet
Tam, gdzie trafi każdy z nas  /  There, where each of us ends up
Tam gdzie życie będzie snem  /  Where life will be a dream
Może spotkamy się  /  Maybe we’ll meet
Tam, gdzie w miejscu stoi czas  /  There, where time stands still
Za sto lat, za rok, za dzień  /  In one hundred years, next year, tomorrow

Może spotkamy się  /  Maybe we’ll meet
Żeby śpiewać, żeby grać  /  To sing and play 
Tam gdzie każdy sobą jest  /  There, where everyone is himself
Może spotkamy się  /  Maybe we’ll meet
Tam, gdzie w miejscu stoi czas  /  There, where time stands still
Za sto lat, za rok, za dzień  /  In one hundred years, next year, tomorrow

Ja idę moją drogą  /  I go my own way
Ty swoje drogi miej  /  You have your paths
Czy skrzyżują się ze sobą  /  Will they ever cross
Jeden Bóg tylko wie  /  Only God knows
A więc rękę mi daj  /  So give me your hand
I spotkajmy kiedyś się  /  And let’s meet one day
Tam, gdzie każdy sobą jest  /  There, where everyone is himself
I zobaczysz będzie czas  /  And you’ll see, there will be a time
Żeby śpiewać, żeby grać  /  To sing and play
Za sto lat, za rok, za dzień  /  In one hundred years, next year, tomorrow

A więc rękę mi daj  /  So give me your hand
I spotkajmy kiedyś się  /  And let’s meet one day
Tam, gdzie każdy sobą jest  /  There, where everyone is himself
I zobaczysz będzie czas  /  And you’ll see, there will be a time
Żeby śpiewać, żeby grać  /  To sing and play
Za sto lat, za rok, za dzień  /  In one hundred years, next year, tomorrow

Lyrics: Bogdan Olewicz. Music: Romuald Lipko

Carpe Diem

“Having it all”


Having it all?


Story (in Spanish)

When it comes to regrets, most peoples’ are about their failure to seize the day. You kick yourself, as a teenager, because you didn’t go for it when she was bright and burning.

Also, as the adage goes, nobody ever dies thinking: “I wish I had spent more time at the office.” An objection is due, in that work is how you provide for your own. If you want to pass important advantages to your posterity, you might have to work long hours. Yet that deathbed saying makes a point that’s similar to that which Game teaches about the limitations of the Beta Provider — what they really want, is you.

For you to be there. For you to hand them the six millennia of Western civilization as their birthright. Workaholism is escapism. The old story about the man working long hours to avoid his wife and the hassle of his kids.

Seizing the day, whether you:

  • Look forward to life as a boy, or
  • You are in media res as a grown man, or
  • You look back on the whole lot of it in old age…

… is these two things:

Adventure. Don’t mistake adventure for trill-seeking, which is a symptom of ennui that compels you to look for a bigger buzz than the last one. Rather, think of the adventurous spirit as strong in people whose life-force compels them to push against restraints.

Legacy. Stop fooling yourself. When you’re gone, everything you’ve done will be forgotten like last year’s snow. Except that one legacy that endures: the lives you’ve brought into this world and guided and provided for.

You have to choose one.