Sergeant Reilley said, There’s a fight to win!
Follow me, boys, follow me!
And it won’t be done till we all pitch in.
Lift your chin with a grin and follow me!

Classics like “The Odyssey” connect you with grandeur that is larger than any one life. And fun classic films such as Walt Disney’s 1966 “Follow Me, Boys!” can put you in a great mood for days because they are a time capsule from before the apocalypse. The movie is pure detoxification. Plot synopsis: Lem Siddons, played by Fred MacMurray, is a World War I veteran and member of a traveling music band. The action begins in 1930, with Siddons impulsively deciding to leave the band and stay in the town where they had briefly stopped. He soon organizes the town’s unruly boys into a Boy Scout troop.

(I did a double take on MacMurray — “Is that Ronald Reagan, the actor?” It isn’t, but he’s the same classic Hollywood tall–dark-and-handsome type with a strong voice).

In this two-minute clip of an early scene from the movie, Lem Siddons and his love interest are introduced. This scene also introduces the story’s villain, a gamma male named Ralph. He’s a vice president of a bank that his civic-minded Aunt Hetty owns. A dialogue between Ralph and Aunt Hetty in that clip, as principal characters first appear:

“Aunt Hetty, we’re trying to be a bank, not a charitable institution. We can’t refuse to foreclose a mortgage simply because Mrs. Todd is a good, Christian woman.”

“But she is. Give her two more months, Ralph.”

Ralph is a minor character but his brand of villainy is what unraveled America: the burning through the common good for personal profit. Here is what I mean, outside of the movie’s story line. Example one: real estate churn through Diversity. A developer buys a patch of woods between two neighborhoods, cuts the trees, crams blow-up houses into narrow lots on that land. He lobbies for cheap foreign labor and for endless bull market through immigration. Example two: the war on femininity. Divert girls from family formation at a young age and into the taxable workforce.

Some say that the final Red Pill is about Usury. When the Protestant Anglo elite handed America over to Jews, who are poorly suited for the responsibilities that come with leadership, economics spiraled into cannibalism. “It’s the economy, stupid” was the winning slogan of the 1992 Presidential campaign. It’s time to kill that attitude. Economic output in a neoliberal world order is best understood through the metaphor of released energy that’s harvested by billionaires. White nations are the fuel, and it’s running low.

Back to “Follow Me, Boys!”… enjoy pre-negrified culture. The only Diversity in this film is a kid who might be an American Indian. And that casting decision only goes to confirm that tokenism, no matter how small, adds nothing that we need.

That film is not my nostalgia. The mid-1960s of the film’s release are before my time, and the depicted culture is mine only through adoption. And yet… I connected with its vision of victory. In short: it was nice to see what being a first-class citizen in your own country looks like, not sixth-class as the case is now.

See it. Rent it from the public library. Watch it with your family. I was never into films from before the late ’70s, so I was a bit skeptical at first. Now I’m a believer.

Follow me, boys, follow me!
When we reach the top then it’s all down hill.
Till you drop, don’t stop, and follow me!

Anyhow, our culture didn’t go anywhere. You’ll see it at this weekend’s Saint Patrick’s Day parade. Whites with skin in the game and instinct for sociability “flock together” and participating in a parade is one example of exclusionary identitarian spirit. Last year we saw marching bag pipers representing various heritage clubs and police departments. Teenage boys are carrying the torch of that tradition. Also Irish dance groups that refute the notion that all young people are out of shape. There’ll be a chubster or two among them, along with an obligatory biracial goblinette, but for the most part it’s shapely girls prancing like ponies.

You’ll see flashes of our true culture anywhere you see Whites arranging their lives to exclude Diversity, even through the smallest gestures such as avoiding convenience stores that employ brown foreigners. Your heritage is always with you so long as your heart beats. Abused and buried and befouled but always calmly waiting.

“Follow Me, Boys!” — the marching song from the movie:

36 thoughts on “Detox

  1. I don’t have to rent it. That was my childhood, in a small town separated from the Big City by a miles-and-miles wide moat of cornfields. Today that town is just another mile marker in the urban sprawl, where quite literally exist branches of the upscale (think $100+ per diner) restaurants from inside The City Loop. The place in which I grew up is long gone, replaced by a glittering ornament that superficially looks like a quaint town but is actually an incredibly expensive empty shell. I recall a place with two stoplights, where banks were open 9-3 M-F and every store (including the one drug store) was closed by 6 PM on weekdays.

    “…economics spiraled into cannibalism. “It’s the economy, stupid” was the winning political slogan of the 1992 Presidential campaign. It’s time to kill that attitude. Economic output in a neoliberal world order is best understood through the metaphor of released energy that’s harvested by billionaires.”

    Exactly. This is the source of emphasis on “GDP.” If “GDP” goes up 100% because 10 million Dot-Indian H1-B’s are added to America’s “workforce,” exactly how does that benefit me?
    In point of fact, foreign workers are quite literally vampires, extracting economic rents and shipping them home. America’s is the first empire EVER where we import the wogs who export our wealth instead of the other way around. Never in history has a populace embarked on collectively spending its members into crushing poverty, doing so by issuing unimaginable debt to perpetuate the delusion until disaster is completely assured. The $250 trillion in US dollar-denominated debt is the limb on the end of which we hang, while sawing at its base.

    GDP is almost a direct measure of bank loans, debt issuance and income taxes. These are the primary rents that the Parasitic Elite exists upon. I am quite certain that many of our modern Hollywood plot-lines are intended to OPENLY troll us, for example, The Matrix openly tells us that we exist only to provide “power” to our Parasite Overlords, and that every attempt to throw off this tyranny is actually just another of the Parasite Overlords’ control systems to keep the malcontents channeled into harmless (to the Parasites) and futile anger-dissipating meaninglessness.

    All roads now lead to either a total civil war to decide who will rule the territory occupied by the USA, or else the USA will be broken by war and ethnic (political) cleansing into several ideologically distinct places.

    Science now tells us what Animal Husbandry 101 told any livestock farmer thousands of years ago: By protecting ourselves (our children) from the ravages of Natural Selection, we humans are getting weaker and weaker with each new generation saved from Nature’s culling of the weak. Humans today are physically weaker than our ancestors 7,000 years ago, and we’re certainly getting more stupid, on average, than our ancestors just 150 years ago. I aver that our average level of pathological altruism is now in the “clinically insane” part of the spectrum, too. The weakest, most idiotic and literally insane among us have reproduced like rabbits. Instead of seeing fields of two- and six-legged rabbits, the defects are hidden inside people’s heads where they behave in increasingly insane, self- and neighbor-destructive ways.

    You can’t fool nature. Nature’s Laws are DETERMINED. And they are deterministic. My own family is mostly too weak to survive the conditions my forebears conquered, and if those conditions return even in small part, I’m not sure who among my descendants will make the cut…and that’s in a family operating at what most people might call “genius level.” We suck THAT BADLY.

    Sometimes I wish I could live in the delusion bubble with everyone else.

  2. @Deter. Excellent little essay, especially your statement regarding natural selection. I’ve been flapping my gums for years about the necessity of permitting seriously ill and defective children, and adults, to die in peace, as they would have 100 and more years ago. Not killing them, just making them comfy and letting them go. What a waste of time. Most of the prowhite crowd want more and more and more high tech eugenics and ultimately phony life “saving” and disease prevention technology. Saving for what? More rabbits with 6 legs, I guess. But, hey, they’re WHITE rabbits.

    I rented “Follow Me Boys” last year without knowing much about it. It was a lot of fun to watch.

  3. These are the sort of family-safe live action and cartoon movies Disney and others produced that I grew up on and reflected TV shows of the period as well. Humor didn’t only require overt references to sex. Another movie, set in 1960’s small town white America (‘Rachel, Kansas’) is ‘The Ghost and Mr. Chicken’ cast with some of the regulars from the Andy Griffith TV show. The movie was made after the star, Don Knotts, left his Barney role on the TV show.

    Fred MacMurray was a very good actor. He usually had good-guy roles, but one of his best performances was as a bad guy in ‘Double Indemnity’ from the 1940’s. He was the star of the TV show, ‘My Three Sons’ which ran from the early 60’s to the early 70’s, as I recall. It told the story of a widower (MacMurray) who was raising his three sons with the help of the boys’ maternal grandfather who did the housekeeping (William Frawley, who was Fred Mertz on the I Love Lucy show; after Frawley became ill he was replaced by William Demarest as ‘Uncle Charley’). Of course, dad was a positive role model for his sons. Can you imagine a positive, testosterone-loaded household like this being depicted today? Or a ten year old boy who doesn’t like girls vs. sexualized 4 year olds seen in today’s TV and movies? Episode 1, Season 1:

  4. Pingback: Detox | Reaction Times

  5. Episode 1, Season 1

    “Mr and Mrs Peterson announce the marriage of their daughter, Goof Eyes, to Hot Lips Douglas”

    Those were the days. Remember how in elementary school, you would “go with [a girl]” and she would “be going with [you]”

  6. That’s how we said it in elementary school in the 70s.

    So-and-so was “going with” so-and-so. As we know, the phrase is a shortened form “to go steady with”.

    Even back then though, no one said go steady with, and that would have seemed out of date and quaint: Happy Days, which was already dated, even for us kids.

    I may have saved the elementary school class photos from those years. They don’t include the names of all the kids, which is probably a good thing for purposes of security, but they do include the teacher’s name and the year.

    Typically there would be 28 kids per class, half of whom were distinctly Nordic in their name and look, and half of whom were otherwise pure White, and maybe one off-White per class. Like vaguely halfway ethnic-looking or something. We didn’t have a single black in our elementary grade level, which was around 100 students per grade level. There were a couple Koreans who were part of the adoption trend. One of them was a very rough character girl. She had come quite a harder background.

  7. Samia, letting Nature take its course sounds great until it’s one of your own on the chopping block. At that point, modern medicine (the beneficial fraction) suddenly looks a lot more attractive. Not even the most Determined Naturalist is likely to let one of his own be abandoned. Yet he knows that this effectively weakens his clan, generation by generation.

    It’s an illusion, to believe that we actually manage more than a minute fraction of our lives. Most of the time our actions are utterly determined, even when we know (intellectually) “better.”

    In the interest of intellectual consistency I adopted a very “pro (me & mine) life” position decades ago. Where there’s life, there’s hope, I say. And those who embrace death do themselves no favors (pro-abortionists, that’s for you.) And I know that in the long run, this may bite my descendants in the ass….but if that’s Nature’s Plan, then it’s Nature’s Plan. None of us knows the future. Mel Tappan, the original survivalist, died long before the Zombie Apocalypse arrived. Who knows whether we get another two months or two centuries before S really gets real? Each day we get on this Earth is a gift. How we spend each moment matters a lot more than do all the other things we (or at least I) often obsess over.

    I’m happy to get down on the floor and play with the grandkids.

    PS: I’m ALL for letting those who can’t pay their way get only that which they can afford without robbing me and mine. Just doing that would solve at least 50% of the dysgenic pressure we humans face. But even that would take a lot of resolve. Though I know beyond doubt that there’s no way to ameliorate the suffering of a child without enabling the parent(s) and generating even more suffering children, it’s still difficult to imagine just walking past. It takes a cesspool like India to harbor that kind of attitude, and I’d rather not see America fall into that level of tar pit. There’s a little bit of pathological altruism in anyone who isn’t a sociopath.

  8. “We didn’t have a single black in our elementary grade level, which was around 100 students per grade level.”

    The entire TOWN in which I grew up had maybe 3 blacks (and zero everything else*) until I was in H.S. I don’t think I ever went to school with a black or brown until college (and even there, I think there were 3 on a campus of about 2,300. Now that same university is who-knows-how-black, and almost as Lefty as any of the Ivy’s.)
    *I stand corrected; when I was very young there was literally a “Chinese Laundry” in town where middle class mothers brought their linen sheets to be cleaned and pressed. They came back pressed and rolled into a tube about 9″ long and 4″ in diameter. This was back when a butcher shop could still have a bare (and very worn) wooden floor, dime stores still were a thing and Montgomery Ward was a major retailer.

    Of course, the home town wasn’t entirely idyllic. Just after I graduated college a 10 year old girl, home alone sick from school, was abducted, raped and murdered by a very white serial killer. That bastard is still alive on the taxpayer dime. Evil does exist, and it comes in all kinds of packages. Those who aren’t equipped to kill a predator should never be left alone. This includes a large percentage of adults.

  9. Ideally, we would live in a social arrangement that protects its members, those in good standing, including especially its old young weak and enfeebled.

    What we do instead, is have them pretend that nothing is wrong. Pretend that it’s better not to live one’s life in fear. [*]

    Such pretense works well for clueless young women and living-in-another-world boomers. / NAb

    James LaFond, ‘the Violence Guy’ says that we should act like we at war. It doesn’t make for a profound text comment. But when says it in the context of his perspective, it is pretty intense.


    What level fighter [AD&D rankings] does one to be, to be a match for typical average human psycho predator?

    Obv not everything is Conan of Sumeria. I would say that 2nd level, is the answer, to the above question.

    The vast majority of people, say 90 per cent, don’t even have an adventure trade. Those vast majority are NPC’s and do not get 3d6 ability rolls. Their ability rolls are more like 2d6, but outliers exist for them too, particularly in the domains of strength and constitution.

  10. What we do instead, is have them pretend that nothing is wrong. Pretend that it’s better not to live one’s life in fear. [*]

    * Plenty of them (regular Americans, nobodies somebodies whoever’s) are beyond pretending though. Plenty of them are beat up and beat down. This isn’t the harmless America of 1965. It was never harmless then either; but actually it was for a good percentage of people: the “better half” or whatever they were called.

    There are two groups who survive for most of their lives, pretending that we are in a state of dire peril, and that they themselves are not targets.

    The first group is boomers. Good advice to boomer parents is not to go out after dark. To never NEVER answer the door after dark or really to anyone who looks suspicious. Their learned attitude of defenselessness and goodwill, can be a source of problems, for them and for those who care about them. In the final analysis, they like to pretend that they are better off pretending. If that makes sense.

    The second group of Americans and Westerners who sometimes don’t have a clue about the hostile nature of the universe, is young women who haven’t been beaten up and or abused, enough, yet, so that their attitude is more in line with reality. For many women this attitude ends lasting most their entire lives, because they never get beat up or abused.

    nb4 I don’t want women getting beat up or abused. However it seems necessary for people to have constraints on their attitude and behavior. This topic has been covered to the tune of a billion words, but it is still “the situation.”

    Women upset me. I don’t want to personal post, so will try and stick to the topic, which was that younger privileged White women often times do not know that they are targets in this hostile world, to the forces of ethnic and race conflict that are quite larger than our sad sorry individual lives.

    Article up at DS today, which is not loading so I can’t retrieve the link. Some British girl got dead in Guatemala. Here it is — Another White Backpacking Girl Goes to Shithole to Get Herself Raped and Killed: Succeeds

    For your reading pleasure the comments at their BBS thing are now back available to the public, which comments can’t be beat for their pithiness.

  11. There are two groups who survive for most of their lives, pretending that we are NOT in a state of dire peril, and that they themselves are not targets.

    The first group is boomers.


    I was out driving around hanging going nowhere, and backed into this spot outside a nowhere strip mall with a good vantage point.

    This nigger comes walking by talking all crazy to himself. He did the thing where he alerted me to his presence (before I saw him coming) by his loud crazy talk.

    That’s an odd behavior though, in terms of animal behavior. In a way it’s a courtesy. He is a crazy nigger, and he sees me first, and knows on a gut level that we are not disposed to get along, and so does me the courtesy of alerting me to his presence.

    It’s a reality check though. Can you beat back a 200-lbs nigger with whatever is at hand, on two-seconds notice?

    That’s at least 2nd-level fighter adventure trade competence. It would be cool to have the exact right weapon, to hand.

    The larger strategy though is to avoid those situations. But you can’t even go to the coffee mall anymore w/o schizo ghetto apes despoiling the peace.

  12. “This isn’t the harmless America of 1965. It was never harmless then either; but actually it was for a good percentage of people: the better half or whatever they were called.”

    The comments in a recent Sailer thread went off topic onto the character the street scene in Minneapolis back in the 50s. It’s hard to believe but at one time, Minneapolis and Saint Paul were tough river towns. Combine big boned Midwesterners with gritty river people, and it’s the makings for a tough scene.

    As older Xer’s might will remember: It used to be all about toughness.

    There was street scene and it was full of hoods. They generally wore leather jackets. I didn’t know much more about it. One side of my family was around here then, and I can sort of intuit something but only vaguely.

    Someone posted a youtube link of the hit song from that era from a local band — The Trashmen – Surfin Bird – Bird is the Word 1963 (RE-MASTERED) (ALT End Video) (OFFICIAL VIDEO)

    It’s the stupidest song in the history of stupid songs, with the dumbest vocal track, but it became a hit, and it shows the characters of what those guys then were like, how they would rock out, and how rocking out in that way was a thing that carried weight. They were toughs by virtue of rocking out, and that was the culture on the other side of the tracks, of a Midwest city back then.

  13. St. Patrick’s Day sober,
    Easter-eve drunk;
    Young Walt starts to disrobe her,
    (Ol’ Whitman’s night-nurse in a funk).
    She’ll plea to high-tide’s interloper:
    “Toss sleep’s sail toward my bunk!” …
    “The wind is no joker,”
    squeal the chiffon eyes of sea-skunks.

  14. — Sometimes I wish I could live in the delusion bubble with everyone else.

    I know that’s meant as an expression, not a literal wish. Still, there is the theme of wanting to retreat back to innocence / unkowledge. Is it even possible here and now, though, to live in blissful ignorance? One category of person I still find fascinating is the White liberal. To take them at their word, this is the best time to be alive, with the Diversity and Poz. Yet they behave as though they hated the same thing we do, at least enough to structure their lives to avoid the same things we want to avoid: diversity and poz. And paradoxically, they will leap to the throat of anyone who’d eliminate this source of common anxiety. Have you in recent few years met a liberal that doesn’t have a dissonant vibe about him?

    — There are two groups who survive for most of their lives, pretending that we are in a state of dire peril, and that they themselves are not targets. The first group is boomers.

    Donald Trump, born in the most boomerlicious year 1946: last night he tweeted about record high economy and something celebratory of high numbers of women in the workforce. We’re in a strange shadow-zone now of not-knowing whether to take his statements (to include the SOTU) as strategic communication that shouldn’t be taken on face value or as an expression of generational sclerosis, or something in between.

    — St. Patrick’s Day sober


    — Easter-eve drunk

    Just not the day before Easter-eve.

  15. Yesterday, in preparation for what turned out to be an utter waste of time “financial strategy” dinner to which I was invited, I ran a graph from the St. Louis Fed’s FRED system of the continuous-contract 10-year treasury note yield and compared it to the same time-frame of total credit market debt. As the price of debt rose from 1981 to 2016 the quantity of debt in existence went from $3.5 trillion in ~1978 (the graphs don’t quite align) to ~71 trillion now. Yeah, the price largely rose that entire time yet the “supply” went up 20-fold.

    So much for Econ 101 telling us that as the price for something rises, the quantity supplied (to meet demand) will decline. EVERYTHING we’re told about how the world works is a lie, and the evidence for this is STARING anyone who wishes to look IN. THE. FACE.

    But people do have an unconscious, vaguely troubling sense that something, somewhere is wrong. But their compulsion to “fit into” the herd makes independent thought almost impossible. For those who do harbor the ability to tolerate social isolation, their troubled minds are anything but unconscious. They (we) know beyond DOUBT that something is wrong, actually a whole BUNCH of somethings (the priority list’s order may vary some, person-to-person), and each day is another Chicken Little dance, running in circles as one threat after another is perceived at each point on the compass.

    As the “price” of Leftism writ large (call it “Utopianism”) rises (inviting tens of millions of unassimilable peoples and shuffling both the newcomers and the culturally alien “natives” into the general population and all the downstream consequences of that) it is having the same effect as rising debt prices on the quantity of debt. Clearly (to me) Utopianism itself is an “intangible asset” parallel to all the others, e.g., stocks and bonds. No matter how high the price of this conviction, those who hold it DOUBLE DOWN on it and demand more, even if it gets them killed.

    Those who think they exist in a crime-free bubble, who believe that their innate goodness alone protects them from predators across Earth itself, thus express the same cognition as the man who daydreams of the life he’ll live WHEN (not if, WHEN!) the lottery ticket he just purchased makes him a $500 millionaire.

    Today’s America is like a teenaged kid whose parents left him home alone, so the kid puts an invitation on FB and along with his classmates arrive fifteen members of the local chapter of the Crips. But it’s OKAY, because…Equality and Diversity. The kid simply CANNOT back out of his invitation, even as the gangsters pull knives and guns and drag some of the girls to a back room while other gangsters rifle everyone’s pockets. Because it’s all good, E&D, right? RIGHT?! And believe it or not, if the kid’s parent go out of town again he’ll do the very same thing…because herd-level cognition DOES. NOT. LEARN. You’d be grossly mistaken to believe experience teaches ANYTHING in that realm.

    We’re on a raft on a fast-flowing river whose course is unknown. We can’t get off this ride, no matter how much we may want to.

    PS: I try to ignore it, but I’ll note to Suburban_elk that I’m a boomer. And while I’d never remotely consider “comparing actual notes” in even a quasi-anonymous forum like this, I suspect if we did so, you and I, over who talks more softly and carries the bigger stick in real life, I’d put my money on me. NABALT (or at least, not all are as characterized by the stereotype, and most of the guys I see at the club are older than me. Don’t ever kick a wizened little gray-haired guy; he’ll pull out a gun and shoot you. For the record, I’m actually about the size of a typical pro football offensive end.)

  16. I am a volatile personality in real life, and in truth timid by inclination. How long since you squared off w/ anyone in real life, DN?

    I got into it with an old boomer tough guy in AA earlier this year. This guy is an Irish brawler character who carries a purse and which going by his personality and history is likely packed. He is about 6 foot 2 and been in a lot of real world fights. I was in “his” chair and he was being aggressive and I told him to not swear in my face, and he got the point. I wasn’t about to come to blows with him, and it would have been ugly. Realistically I don’t think I could have handled him, “in the ring” — too big and strong — but that’s not how the real world works.

    Have you ever knocked out someone’s teeth over an insult, or been locked up abroad? Your background is privileged and soft, is it not? I am not saying that you are privileged and soft, but that’s your milieu, upper middle class?

  17. Anyone who has 50 lbs an on opponent is going to outmatch him in the ring, if they are both reasonably fit and athletic.

    In terms of internet tough guy posting, I have a solid resume. A lot of time on the street, which is mostly losing, but on the other hand it’s real world experience. Any fight you walk away from w/o long lasting injuries is not losing, in a sense.

    It is losing if you lose face, though actually. That’s just the facts of the matter.

    Boomers who have no real experience on the street or in actual combat, have nothing to say on the matter.

    Repeat that last line.

  18. The social environment as it stands. How is Hierarchy determined?

    People fall into their place. Even in “sad clown world” people know who is to be deferred to, and who can be pushed around.

    Confidence and willingness to fight, goes a long way. On the personal, I absolutely do NOT want to fight, or get into it with anybody. Too many consequences. It’s utterly the mark of a person who is not satisfied with himself and or his rank. [*]

    “Be happy in thine own self.”

    Don Quixote, tilting at windmills, over an imagined slight.

    Road Rage.

    * The problem is that White men, or perhaps rather would-be White men, are not allowed the opportunity to Fight, to improve their status.

    And then paradoxically, if they are allowed to fight, allowed by themselves and the System both, it’s amongst themselves and hardly ever their racial competitors. I squared off with some White construction guy on the street about five years ago, and he would have beat my ass. He was in the wrong (sort of), in a road rage situation. I shoulda got tf outta there but it escalated and pride and face and blah blah blah. Someone called the cops, fortunately for me. I was ready to duck and then go for his balls. His eyeballs, that is.

  19. My grandfather watches old movies all day and I find myself enjoying them also. I don’t even pay much attention to the plot. I think it may be the tempo I enjoy more than anything. I find so much of modern entertainment annoying.

  20. I have no gripes on DN and hope we don’t have to face off in real life. The question that has been raised though, is —

    What is your Command Presence; How much you got?

    Said question is often more simply —

    Whose dick is bigger; who is the more swinging dick?

    Command Presence is a Big Variable in the game of life. It’s probably the most important aggregate attribute. It is more correlated with success than IQ. It IS success, in a way that IQ is not.

    George Washington and Alexander the Great, and Temuhin ‘the fratricidal Asian Cowboy’ are the best examples from history of super genius level Command Presences.

    It’s obv a well known and discussed concept in military circles. But however, and here’s the point. We don’t have an analogous concept for civilian life, and to be deployed for in the strife that we face.

    Everyone on our side has to be maximizing his life force Command Presence. As said Eomer son of Eodred, Second [Third?] Marshall of the Mark “Riders of Rohan now is the hour! and remember to save some for tomorrow!”


    Now back to your regularly scheduled programming, aka not winning.

  21. South of south Texas,
    Miller scribbled his ‘Sexus;’

    “Go translate to Greek,
    with sunset crows’ ink-wrinkled beaks!”
    Yawned the ‘T-Rex of the meek.’

    …Then mull over ‘Plexus’ …

  22. Elk, I just don’t care that much.

    I don’t look for trouble. It doesn’t find me, not since a long time ago. But recall that gold-grill Trayvon thought puffy little George was going to be a fun ground-and-pound. How many bookies got that one wrong? You?

    I really tire of people who think a fight is where both people go home, who think that giving and taking punches is a sport. Fists and feet kill more people annually than shotguns and rifles combined. I don’t train to trade or take a punch. I don’t work on my stand-up or my ground game. I train to be the one who goes home (preferably without spending time in handcuffs, much less overnight in a pen.)

    Your mileage may vary.
    Stop swaggering on the ‘net. It’s a bad look, where everyone is a bad ass. Read THAT a few times.

  23. Your mileage may vary.
    Stop swaggering on the ‘net. It’s a bad look, where everyone is a bad ass. Read THAT a few times.

    Pretty good chastisement. Four out of five starts. Better by a half-star than what gets served up by Greg ‘the last boomer standing’ Eliot, at CH.


    Marc McYoung, street name ‘Animal,’ writes the definitive treatment on tough guy street scene bluster. He overall hot take on the level of LaFond, but he plays down the race factors.

    He says it can be considered a given, that anyone out there on the street, is acting out a messed-up script.

  24. Meant to say: His [McYoung’s] overall hot take is on the level of LaFond

    no nonsense self defense [one word] is the name of his website. It is very famous website, but it’s also internet 1.5 or whatever.


  25. There was a friendly Boomer vs GenX back n forth on Gab. Boomer says “time to start hating the GenXers” and someone replied “hate only works if its target cares.”

    Someone said that GenX is Boomers minus the optimism. I paused to think about that one. But then added that we (GenX) are just like Boomers, in that we like rock music. The cool early 90s stuff though, not the Mick Jagger clown show. Good times.

    It also occurred to me that my generation (I feel gay writing the immediately-preceding, we don’t use such words) is like Hamlet. We smelled the rot but had no idea what to do about it and are still kicking ourselves over it.

  26. “…cool early 90s stuff though, not the Mick Jagger clown show. Good times.”

    The Stones just managed to hit it out of the park with their sentimental numbers, their ‘Wild Horses;’ their ‘Angie.’ Other than that, they were too British to make any ‘subversive’ splash in rock & roll. In that, The Doors remain truly unrivaled in sheer passion.

    Paganini once said:

    “I am not handsome, but when women hear me play, they come crawling to my feet.”

    This applies to good early 90s rock indeed; just a bit of late 90s too, some more intriguing acts like Morrissey.

  27. I do like Stones’ slower pieces. “You can’t always…” and “As tears go by” too.

    Something that occurred to me on a trip to NYC with a friend a few weeks ago. We took his car, I drove for a bit, he put on his Pandora. I told him to put on an “80s Rock” channel, since that’s where our tastes overlap and he hates many of the subgenres I like. After about half an hour I said, “Hey, make it ’80s Pop’ instead. I can’t take ‘Pour some sugar on me’ all that seriously any more.”

    So he switched it to that decade’s pop, which felt not at all superannuated. Spandau Ballet, Thompson Twins, Tears For Fears, A-ha. It was pleasant. The softer stuff ages better.

    With exceptions, of course. 90s hard rock keeps standing the test of time with me.

    As to “Angie,” great ballad. I contrast that song with an element in “Bridge over troubled water,” namely the verse with “sail on, silver girl.” Both songs are about ending it with a woman, but Jagger/Richards put profound grace into the lyrics of Angie. Paul Simon is downright insulting with his sendoff.

    “Sail on, silver girl [nice (not)] / Sail on by / Your time has come to shine” – is she an old lady, a boat, or in fifth grade?

    Simon was a good lyricist, including on the rest of that song, but that was ungentlemanly.

  28. “90s hard rock keeps standing the test of time with me.”

    I can relate. And on a rather recent note, R.I.P. to Keith Flint. His hard rock employed elements of a kind of siren-studded disco, maybe a little decadent electronica, but it was still good British rock; authentic!

  29. Generation or not, Mencken remains timeless: “Every decent man is ashamed of the government he lives under.” If you judge each generation only by studying the clowns from that generation elected to president, each American generation has slipped further into the cesspool since at least the Harding Administration. Clinton, W, Obama and Trump. Not much to choose from with Boomers, going from awful to execrable to basically unknown. Can we begin to IMAGINE what a Gen X or Millennial POTUS will be like? This country was on a slide into the sewer over a century ago, and the only question is one of acceleration.

    I used to be an anarchist-libertarian, believing that political systems are unnecessary evils. I now concur with Sallust, that (because) most men do not desire liberty, they only wish for a just master, (political systems are an inescapable constant, no less so than death.) This makes them no less evil, but turns the question of necessity into irrelevance. Political systems just are and always will be.

    But they remain evil, pointing up a Biblical axiom: Lucifer (the real or philosophical embodiment of evil) owns each and every political system at all times and in all places. This highlights an interesting predicament: is voting (or even hoping) for the lesser of two evils tacit approval of the lesser (and therefore voluntary participation in evil) or is it more like killing a living thing in order to eat it, simply doing what (our) Nature requires of us?

    I operate my life on the assumption that in coming decades there will be so much rage directed in so many directions that every assumption about things like Social Security should be zeroed. Once Boomers are a small enough population, when the hardships I think are baked into the cake arrive it will be a cakewalk to cut inter-generational wealth transfers to the bone, if not eliminate them. I don’t think this is a bad thing (I’d rather see my kids not be taxed into poverty to pay for a bunch of my peers who were too stupid and profligate to take care of themselves), only an inevitability.

    I live small today because I think a small life will be the best that’s available for my remaining years and I’d rather be used to it ahead of time rather than see my living standard drop by 75%. And I worry about my kids, despite the fact that I’m no more than an interested observer who has zero input to how they navigate the coming storm.

  30. Music-wise, I recently picked up a bunch (~100)of songs from my misspent youth and it’s astonishing how they unlock vivid memories in some cases almost half a century ago. As I’ve stated often, everything we do becomes a part of us, because it ALL leaves memories.

    If You Could Read My Mind.
    Nights are Forever Without You.
    Died in Your Arms.
    Electric Blue.
    Time in a Bottle.
    Human (The Human League.)
    I’d Really Love To See You Tonight.
    Wind of Change.
    That’s the Way I’ve Always Heard It Should Be.
    If (Bread.)
    99 (Toto)
    Of course I already had lots of the relevant albums from then for Journey, Kansas, Boston, REO Speedwagon, The Cars, Chicago, Moody Blues and my alternate fav, The Alan Parsons Project.
    Spans the late 1960’s to the mid-80’s. I liked music then.

    Sometimes I think bands today intentionally make crap music. For example, Queensryche’s Silent Lucidity is (to me) astonishingly good, and the entire rest of the album on which it was released would be considered torture were I forced to listen to it. Is it too hard work to produce music that has melody and harmony? I do wonder. (This is why rap is popular; it’s not music, it’s more like the poetry of Maya Angelou, so it’s relatively easy to compose. Idiocracy isn’t a place where the lilt of music is heard.)

  31. “Silent Lucidity” is an excellent song. There was a moment when songs about exploring one’s unconscious were popular. Not in the psychedelic druggie-rock sense but lucidly. “Enter Sandman” was another.

  32. Deter, good list of songs from mid-60 to mid-80s, by the way.

    Eighties were a good time to be a teenager when it comes to pop music. Morbid cynicism was ushered in with college rock acts like REM and then-unknown Seattle bands in the 80s. I saw REM in 1989, and Michael Stype did this scathing anti-government intro to “Orange Crush” onstage, which was an unfamiliar attitude to come across then.

    Then cynicism came out into the open with Grunge by ’91, the popular mood also aligning well with my entry into my twenties and post-Reagan America.

    There were still decent songs in the 80s/90s rock style in the late 90s and early 2000s:

    Avril Lavigne “I’m with you”
    Fuel “Hemorrhage”
    Switchfoot “Dare you to move”

    Rap bypasses the parts of your brain that peacefully subordinate your consciousness to a higher aesthetic. It also bypasses emotion centers that materialize sadness, hope, longing, etc. It’s also not dance music, which is sexual.

    Rap goes straight to aggression centers. Or to reduce that down, it kicks up your psychic energy in a way that’s exhausting after you’re done listening to it. Some of the Heavy Metal does that too. Check out Metallica’s song “Master of Puppets.”

    You can say that there is a purpose to every thing under heaven, rap too. I like European nationalist rap quite a lot. Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” is good. White rappers, though, de-negrify the style. They rock it out in a way, though I dont have the musicology knowledge to explain how.

    White Energy works differently than that which blacks respond to in their rap. It’s different when White artists do it and you don’t hear a nggr grunting at you. It’s also an “alternative” style for us, not our go-to war-drums sound. We use other styles of music for that.

    Rap in some interpretations was a Disco era novelty, like in that Blondie song about eating cars and guitars.

  33. Speaking of White rap. Zyklon Don from the Krypto Report has some fresh material, that is good for a get-out-there-and-get-them-kikes motivational start to your day.

    Link postering is boomerish, but here is the link for a download to the song —!v74gkAiT!Na2L-DhZqT33dUsWkwAQoA

    No one is going to go the link and download the song based on this comment. But there it is.

    They can’t have a youtube link for that rap because it will get them in trouble, otherwise that would be more convenient.

    Rap is a lowbrow format, but actually it’s fairly conducive to getting heard. There’s nothing inherently anti-White about using words.

  34. That same rap song is featured at the beginning of their podcast show The Krypto Report, which would be an easier way to listen to it than downloading the damn thing.

    The download. In case anyone is wondering what to do with the next ten minutes of their lives before going forth and conquering and making money, or just passing the next ten-minute time interval waiting for that first THOUSAND.

    The problem with this soon to be incoming sinecure, is that it’s not just for us Whites, and not even just for us heritage Americans though, right? Every asshole in the boundaries of the USA gets his check? Hopefully we can talk to Yang about this problem, and get sorted out.

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