“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

Refrain:
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

[Refrain]

(Lyrics: Andrzej Ignatowski; music: Robert Janson)

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Mentoring Vs Cuckoldry

Illegitimacy is the product of alien cultural subversion in the case of European Americans, while it is a return to the default state in muds.  — Matt King

If a mudshark asked you to help her move, would you wag your tail “Sure! when do you want me there?” Or would you laugh, at least in your thoughts, as you politely blow her off: You like blak dik, blak dik can help you move. Cuckoldry takes many forms, but they all reduce to one thing: harnessing one man’s value in service to another’s seed.

Mentoring someone is one of the most satisfying things you can do. Here is an illustration. I headed a project that was considered a big deal. People in high places took active interest in its progress. A young man was assigned to assist me. He introduced himself and I was impressed. Right out of college, strong voice, respectful but at ease around top brass. Every high-quality 19-year-old girl in America needs to be locking him in.

I sent him out to do something that required him to make judgment calls. The result exceeded my expectations. Which was good, because I was responsible for the ultimate outcome, and what he did helped things move along nicely.

There are two key differences between a pro and a newb. One, the pro does things fast. Two, the pro effectively handles any complication that inevitably occurs, big or small, even a potentially catastrophic one, while barely breaking stride. There is always a workaround.

And a complication did happen. At the worst moment, something I had a routine backup plan for, but the backup plan was null because it too was affected by this unexpected turn of events. We were working late, just the two of us. He looks nervous and says: “Oh damn, we’re fucked…” My pulse was low and slow. Some part of me — mind you, I’ve been doing this for years — got giddy: Oh cool, a puzzle to solve! I thought for a minute and when I had the lay of the land, I told him: “We have two options. Plan A is optimal but not so certain. Plan B is sub-optimal but it’s a sure thing. Let’s start with Plan A.”

Plan A worked. The whole thing was a success. We shook hands and I expressed my sincere appreciation of his work. Later I passed a good word about him where it matters. He said “I learned a lot from you, thank you.” That’s what I mean about mentoring someone being one of the most satisfying things you can do. It can also be informal and involve minimal effort. For example, you can teach a kid how to throw a spiral.

But as I like to say, it’s not worth it unless it’s yours. Define “yours”?

I’ll leave that up to you.

As every boy sooner or later learns, life is not supposed to be easy. But the payoff is that with every bruise and accomplishment, you acquire value. And literally, the most meaningful way in which you can give life to your experience is through passing it on to your son. On another level, you are a member of a community. This means that your experience is part of the collective wealth: you have something you can teach someone who is worth your time.

And the passing along of that capital to someone you have no kinship with and whose face is not the face of your people is cuckoldry on more than purely metaphoric level. Especially if your labors are in service to a rival demographic. The system that seeks to replace our sons with theirs knows its assets, and you’re one of those assets. We have the Ace card.

Illegitimacy, as goes the quote at the top of this post, is both a boon and a liability for the globalist. Coloreds’ weak paternal instincts make them easy to control, perfect slaves. But those qualities go with defects such as incompetence, which is why the enemy eyeballs your attributes the same way it leers at a White woman’s ass: Will you give your Ace card to your replacement? They already flashed up a Great White Father example for you in Clint Eastwood’s “Gran Torino” character:

This (in)famous scene in Gran Torino titillated racists but something sat ill with me. It’s where Clint Eastwood’s character chased off a group of blacks who were intimidating a whigger and his Hmong girlfriend. And I figured out what it was: filicide.

It would have been better if Eastwood had told the boy to also get into the truck. After they dropped the girl off at her house, he should have said: “Son, you’re gonna help me change the oil in my Torino.”

They want you to mentor fatherless brown boys who should be in their ancestral countries and with their own fathers, not with you and not here.

See the ads below, not one depicting an older man passing his experience on to a boy who looks like he once did. So, assuming that these ads aren’t a front for something much more vile… barforama.

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Great Books For Boys

The greatest books for boys are foundational texts. Greek mythology gives insight into human nature and valorizes masculine virtues. There are now Minecraft comic book editions of the Old and the New Testament. And a boy has to learn his national history and heroic myths.

For adventure, you can’t go wrong with the American classics, from Mark Twain to Jack London. I first read Huckleberry Finn at the age of eight in translation and White Fang afterwards.

At the library or a used book store, look for books that were printed more than a few decades ago. You can’t appreciate how politically “corrected” children’s books have become until you compare them with something that’s fifty-plus years old. Furthermore, the poz is more blatant with hot-off-the-press publications, where they will go as far as sneaking in overt homosexuality. Ask me in the comments if you want to know of one example. The obligatory diversity ruins every story and you will never see a recently published book with an illustration of a White boy and girl next to each other. Liberals really do want to destroy your son and daughter.

The one qualitative difference between great books for men rather than for boys, is women. A young boy’s psycho-social development is focused on his becoming a man in relation to other boys, therefore a great book for boys might omit any reference to women entirely as superfluous and distracting. War and adventure stories, for example. Or coming-of-age friendship tales such as Stephen King’s short story The Body, better known by its film version Stand by Me — no girls allowed.

If women appear in a boy’s book, they should be fixed characters like a mom or a teacher; if an authority figure, she ought to be comic relief. When a story features a girl as a developed character, the boy’s attitude to her should be rendered as one of amused and occasionally annoyed mastery, though despite it all, instinctively protective — like with a sister. Nuanced and complex portrayals of women are for adult readers.

Here are several books I recommend for boys, some of which might not be familiar to Anglosphere readers. Plot summaries include spoilers.

Roald Dahl, Short Stories. Dahl was a Welsh novelist (1930 – 1990) whose prose carries echoes of Dr. Seuss — similar touches of surrealism, as well as its own wry looseness in language. Representative short stories:

  • George’s Marvellous Medicine — Can’t stand bossy (and smelly!) old hags? This tale has the antidote: our hero concocts a potion to make his witchy grandmother nicer and hilarity ensues.
  • The Filling Station — An account of growing up with one’s widowed father in a trailer behind dad’s auto-service garage. A big meadow, a bunk bed, a wood stove in the winter, and greasy clothes from helping dad in the shop. What more could a boy want?

Beowulf. Specifically, the version authored by Michael Morpurgo. The narrative emphasizes loyalty to friends and benefactors, courage, honesty. Cowardice and abandonment of kinsmen are singled out for scathing treatment.

Karl May, The Winnetou Trilogy. Written by German author Karl May in 1893 and set on the American frontier, the trilogy follows a greenhorn’s development into the famed Old Shatterhand and his ultimately tragic friendship with the Apache warrior Winnetou. Loved it as a ten-year-old. I’m not otherwise familiar with the genre; any other old-school great Westerns for boys out there?

Henryk Sienkiewicz, In the Desert and the Wilderness. The novel was written in 1911 and it describes the adventures of two children of the British Empire’s emissaries, Stan and Nell, following their abduction by Sudanese rebels. Travelling with their kidnappers, they encounter a lion and the Arabs agree to hand the rifle to Stan, knowing that he is the only one with the skill take down the animal. Understanding the weight of his responsibility, Stan kills the lion and then slays all of his captors.

At the completion of their journey through Africa in search of a British garrison, he and Nell are reunited with their families and Stan’s father gives him a memorable lecture on killing:

Listen, Stan, don’t deal in death lightly, but if someone threatens your homeland, the life of your mother, sister or the life of a woman placed in your care, put a bullet in his head with no questions asked and don’t burden yourself with any remorse.

Ferenc Molnar, The Paul Street Boys. The plot centers on the battles between two gangs of boys over a vacant lot in Budapest. Janos Boka is the leader of the protagonist group. Ernest Nemecsek, the book’s main character, is the smallest and weakest of the boys but arguably the bravest. Due to a misunderstanding he is demerited by his gang, a dishonor he takes very seriously. To redeem himself, he wades through a pond on a cold day to spy on the enemy gang and catches pneumonia.

Despite his illness on the day of the decisive battle, Nemecsek runs away from home and fights, contributing to victory. He collapses after the battle and Boka carries him home, where he dies while his father is unable to break away from a fussing customer. Once back outside, Boka runs into the leader of the opposing gang, who says that he came to see how Nemecsek is doing. The 1906 novel foreshadows the incipient Great Brother Wars.

Hergé, The Adventures of Tintin. Written in the 1950s by the Belgian cartoonist, this series of comic books follows the eponymous young reporter and his wacky cast of supporting characters on their exploits around the world. You’ll enjoy entertainingly frank racial stereotypes, yet Tintin finds a way of making friends with good people everywhere. The physical and verbal comedy is guaranteed to have both the kid and the adult splitting their sides with laughter.

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The Wages of Cuckoldry is Scorn

American football star Colin Kaepernick disavowed the U.S. national anthem, and not because of his government’s imperial rapine. Rather, he gave this as his reason:

I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color.

Did Kaepernick’s adoptive parents echo King Lear’s plaint about a thankless child and a serpent’s tooth? Black-fathered bastards or adoptees raised by Whites often embrace their missing father’s African identity. This is understandable given human nature, but what interests me is the spiteful contempt they almost invariably show for their European cuck and wet-nurse benefactors.

It’s been an ugly story, even before the flag flap. Kaepernick’s biological father, true to script, dindu nuffin. His White biological mother, who gave him up for adoption in infancy, attempted to contact her son after he had already become a millionaire and her parents, in turn, hasten to add that they supported their daughter in her obscene pregnancy. Her second son is White; the poor child was delivered from a telegony-stained womb. Kaepernick’s adoptive parents are humiliated and not just by the anthem controversy. This photo is from three years ago and the eyes tell all:

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Image credit: (c)fox40.com

Colin Kaepernick is nature’s instrument of cruel but fair justice. The serpent’s tooth is for the best, a reassertion of the one-drop-rule absent its codification into law. Something always arrests Europe’s tropical drift. As Czesław Miłosz wrote in his poem about rebellion:

And what I have met with in life was the just punishment
Which reaches, sooner of later, the breaker of a taboo.

 

Father-Son Songs

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There is no stronger — and more complicated — human bond than between a father and his son. Happy Father’s Day to those of you who brought your indubitably dashing likeness into the world at this exciting time. Here are some popular songs for the occasion:

Roger Waters (Pink Floyd), “When the Tigers Broke Free — Waters wrote that autobiographical song as homage to his father, Eric Fletcher Waters (1913 – 1944), who died in the battle of Anzio. The song was ultimately left off The Wall album, the bandmates’ consensus being that it was too intense:

It was dark all around
There was frost in the ground
When the Tigers broke free
And no one survived from the Royal Fusiliers Company C
They were all left behind
Most of them dead
The rest of them dying
And that’s how the high command
Took my daddy from me

Harry Chapin, “Cats and the Cradle — There is also a decent hard rock cover by early 1990s band Ugly Kid Joe.

“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when
But we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then”

Cat Stevens, “Father and Son — Stevens wrote it as a father-son conversation, with the higher-note verses being the boy’s lines:

It’s not time to make a change,
Just sit down, take it slowly.
You’re still young, that’s your fault,
There’s so much you have to go through.
Find a girl, settle down,
If you want you can marry.
Look at me, I am old, but I’m happy.

Mike and the Mechanics, “The Living Years — I am not of the school of thought that talking solves things. Some things speak for themselves, you reap what you sow. Where we don’t see eye to eye, latter-life insight (I think) helps. Mike Rutherford disagrees:

Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye

Marie Laforet, “Viens, Viens — A splash of estrogen in French, sang from the point of view of a young girl abandoned by her womanizing father. She mentions her younger brother (the linked video is subtitled):

Do you know that Jean is back to school
He already knows the alphabet, it is funny
When he pretends to smoke
He looks just like you

Dan Fogelberg, “Leader of the Band — The song reminds me of Dennis Leary once doing a comic monologue about people suing Heavy Metal bands in the ’80s over their allegedly suicide-promoting lyrics. Leary’s punchline was that he should sue Fogelberg for his wimpy songs, listening to which turned him into a pussy. But I don’t think he had this song in mind.

He earned his love through discipline, a thund’ring, velvet hand.
His gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand.

Johnny Cash, “A Boy Named Sue — One deadbeat dad did his job:

And he said, “Son, this world is rough
And if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn’t be there to help ya along
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you’d have to get tough or die
And it’s the name that helped to make you strong”

Faster Pussycat, “House of Pain” — The life a boy whose father disappeared in a divorce:

Image credit (top of post): unknown

A Simple Advice for a Boy

Good teachers have an ability to wrap complex ideas in a few simple, memorable words. A friend I talk with about Alt-Right politics has that talent. You appreciate it when someone who isn’t familiar with our ideas but is interested asks him a question, which he answers with a zing! that makes the concept clear.

Imagine a scenario in which you are mortally injured and you only have a minute to tell your ten-year-old son, who’s right next to you, everything you know before you lose consciousness and close your eyes for good. Your kid knows you love him, but you can tell him that anyway. But what else do you tell him? Haze settles over your thoughts.

Or, you are a high school coach. Your team just won the final game of the season and as you congratulate these bright-eyed teenagers, one of them asks “coach, got any advice for us—I mean, in general?” That advice, simple and comprehensive, good for a teenager or a child, is encapsulated in these three points:

Fear God. Respect good men. Believe in yourself.

This advice happens to follow Christ’s directive in Luke 10:27, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself.” Here, however, I say fear rather than love on account of the latter word’s contemporary churchian corruption. The young man will also take the word fear more seriously; it will make him think.

About that first instruction, to fear God—”But isn’t religion superfluous?”—asks an agnostic. To that, I can reply: there are things that are greater than you. Give them their due and your life will be better.

Now, on to the second point, respecting good men. This helps you avoid being a Gamma male. Just as importantly, sincere respect for men of character—as well as for men who had mastered a skill or overcome challenges, or are simply older than you and have given you no reason to hold them in low regard—teaches humility and self-knowledge.

Finally, believing in yourself helps you trust your instincts and gives you the courage and dynamism to take what you want from life.

How To Help Prevent Mudsharking

Part-time blogger and full-time hell-raiser who goes by the pen name “Whorefinder” asks this serious question over at Chateau Heartiste:

I have some very young (under the age of 5) nieces. I am afraid they are growing up in this milieu of influence and may be affected by it. Their parents are decent, strong folk (both together), but I want to ensure they don’t grow up to be mudsharks. As the uncle, how do I do this? Remember, the kids’ TV shows these days are even more pushing mudsharking than not.

My short, glib answer: don’t let them get fat. And get rid of the TV.

For my long answer, read on.

The ultimate and irreversible repudiation of one’s identity is to have children with someone of another race. This is a particularly stinging repudiation when done by a woman, and it is especially true in the context of the state-engineered genocidal assault on White nations, from aggressive desegregation in the United States to the massive importing of immigrants into European homelands. Fifty years ago in homogeneous places, a White woman who crossed racial lines may have been benevolently dismissed as a rare curiosity. Today, she is an unwitting tool in a global war on our people.

There have been several good responses to Whorefinder’s question, all tailored to parents or other relatives whose daughters are, like in his question, of formative age. I provide excerpts from several commenters’ responses below, arranged by key themes. These scenarios assume a stable two-parent home, or at least the father actively involved in raising his daughters.

This post is written for fathers and adult male relatives of child and pre-teen girls and it focuses on the daughter, granddaughter, or niece developing a healthy sense of identity before she matures. Advice regarding teenage girls and young women is a separate discussion.

1. The Fundamentals: Cultivate a Positive Cultural Identity

This first piece of advice to Whorefinder, offered by reliably excellent commenter Carlos Danger, is good to lead things off with because it hits on the fundamentals — transmit a positive identity to your child through storytelling:

Read to them. Read them the great stories you should have had read to you and discuss the stories with them.

The dominant cultural institutions in Western countries have all but openly declared war on you. To live functionally, you have to keep an in mala fide relationship with them, unlike if, say, you had a country of your own. You have a legitimate racial, cultural, religious, and ethnic heritage, which is your child’s birthright and a basis for his or her ability to walk through life confidently and live meaningfully. But in a hostile, nihilistic environment, acculturation of your children is up to you, and reading — storytelling — is one of the most common ways of passing on your ancestral identity.

Read them classic Brothers Grimm fairytales, which will validate the child’s instinctive feelings of prudence in a chaotic world. Greek mythology has perfect allegories for human nature and it teaches courage. I own a thick, beautifully illustrated kids’ edition of major myths that I recommend, Usborne Illustrated Stories from the Greek Myths, 2011 ed. If you are American, also read them children’s stories about the 1776  War of Independence or about frontier settlers. If you are of another nationality, read them your country’s myths.

At your public libraries, look for books published before 2000 or so. Newer books will be infused with politically correct revisionism and illustrations will invariably juxtapose characters of different races, including the ubiquitous White girl with a Black boy. (Aside: be alert for homo-bombs. I once borrowed a nicely illustrated new book about two friends who go adventuring, and BOOM! they suddenly discover that they are in love and on the next page they explicitly marry each other.)

As with everything else involving subtle education, keep the reading light and fun. A heavy-handed or didactic approach is counterproductive. One serious book for three funny or light ones.

2. The Father as Bedrock Figure

On to other commenters’ responses to Whorefinder’s question. Philomathean writes:

The Father must be a psychologically strong man who knows who he is and where he comes from. If he lets his daughters watch TV he must be a formidable counterbalance to its lies.

This is the foundation on which everything else rests. When a woman miscegenates, she overcomes her feminine imperative to genetic hygiene. Her willingness to take that leap into darkness (heh) is driven by her dissatisfaction with men of her own race. Her negative judgment of her own men may or may not be those men’s actual fault in an objective sense but subjectively, that’s her world. Her father is her archetype of the masculine ideal and as such represents either a model of what she embraces or what she rejects.

A strong father also keeps a girl grounded and keeps her from making psyche-damaging mistakes.

3. Don’t AMOG Your Own Case

Salesmanship is key. On a road trip in my twenties, a friend and I stopped at a fast food restaurant in western Kentucky and I flirted with the pretty cashier. My travel companion fancied himself an upstart and in an out-of-character display of cock-blockery, tried to interject with clumsy negs directed at yours truly while she and I talked and eye-fucked each other, completely ignoring him. Back in the car, he sheepishly says to me “You know, I think that the more I babbled, the better I was making you look.” I laughed “Yeah, you were helping me out a lot, thanks man!”

Don’t let your babbling make your adversary look good. Reader Balmung writes:

Above all, you must make sure you are appropriately subtle about your goals, you don’t want to be the crazy uncle at Thanksgiving that rants about Jews and niggers non stop.

This next point by commenter Regular John is related to the previous one:

Kids don’t care about hatefacts and who is or isn’t dangerous. They know who is more likely to be violent. They care about what is cool.

With older girls, teenagers in particular, the worst possible thing you can do is bore them with crime statistics or excite them with stories of abandonment and violence. Chicks dig the Bad Seed.

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The Bad Seed

Philomathean also adds:

Avoid branding nogs as subhuman scum in front of them. Your nieces are female and it’s nearly impossible for them to abandon their compassion reflex, particularly when every cultural organ is arrayed against such vulgarity.

Good point. If you have to get into HateFacts, slyly refer to astronomical rates of venereal diseases among blacks. But better yet, take her to Walmart to get a good look at the walking-dead fat White single moms with mixed-race kids.

Hostile commenter The Spirit Within offers a related note of caution:

Then just wait til she meets her first middle-class black guy, probably at college. “Oh my God, you’re so nice, you’re not an animal like my dad says, what was he thinking, I can’t even lulz…” Hearts in the eyes, and it’s game over for your agenda at that point.

Eye on the prize: help your daughter develop a positive cultural identity. With that in place, there is little need to tear others down, beyond age-appropriate, smartly delivered common-sense advice.

4. Keep It Natural — Trust Yourself, Trust Your Child

Reader Corvo below ties in a tactically sound way of building identity boundaries between Us and Them, without which a human being reels through life like leaves in the wind:

I don’t rant, but I don’t spare the sarcastic/negative real-talk comments about blacks in everyday conversation with the family, whether I’m talking to her or to another adult in front of her and my other kids. I actually think that one of the most important benefits of having race-real family and friends is the subtle but constant pro-White attitude that underpins most mealtime conversations … times when the kids are halfway listening to their elders talk about current events or something else they don’t quite fully understand, but get the gist of: White is “ours,” good, safe, advanced, accomplished … black and “others” are dangerous, dirty, lazy, etc.

Left to themselves, kids develop a healthy sense of identity, but as mentioned above, you are in a struggle with a hostile institutions, public and private, for your child’s soul. Corvo then underscores that point:

By default, I think most White kids, boys and girls, will grow up to be pro-White if they are not corrupted/brainwashed into being otherwise. So, given that, the fundamental thing is keeping out the negative influences (mostly media and pop “culture”) and trying to find better substitutes.

Finally, the following take on “nature,” an outside-the-box practical recommendation by Balmung, is very good:

One more thing, encourage them to appreciate nature, maybe invite the family along on camping trips? At the risk of sounding new age, children who are immersed in nature can be partially immunized to mass society lies.

We camp every year, getting together with three other families with children of similar age to ours. Not many kids today know the experience of waking up to a massive thunderstorm in the middle of the night with lighting flashes searing through the tent, rain pounding, and thunder rumbling like you’ll never hear it rumble from inside a suburban home. And startled but reassured that mom and dad aren’t afraid, calmly listening to the sounds of the storm.

In addition to camping, there is gardening, as well as 4H clubs where kids work with farm animals. Spend weekends at farm bed & breakfasts or if you are lucky enough to have family out in the country, let your daughter stay with them regularly.

5. Listen to Your Child 

Stated briefly: listen to your kid. She wants to tell you exciting things that are not related to Greek myths or identitarian struggles. Don’t lose sight of that. She is not an empty vessel for you to fill but an active little brain that concocts wild stories she wants you to hear about. Talk with her, ask her questions about her imaginary worlds. When you actively listen, she bonds with you and learns to trust you. If you shut her out (you may not even realize you are doing that), she will grow to find you remote at best, indifferent to her well-being at worst.

6. My Own Advice to Whorefinder

Finally, I offered my own impromptu response to Whorefinder in that comment thread as follows, with minor revisions here:

As an uncle, there is not much you can do directly. Do you have a good relationship with the father and can talk with him candidly? I’d so, broach the subject with him.

It really all hinges on him. Immaterially, if the girls respect him, he is near-clear of mudsharking risk. He also has to imbue them with a positive identity so that the girls value who they are, rather than seeing themselves as lower-case whites who seek an identity among Others.

Materially, he needs to keep them away from unchecked influence of pop culture and public schools. No TV at home. Do all he can to give them good peer groups.

As an uncle, you can subtly tool “lifestyle losers” in age-appropriate ways. Also, foster in them a sense that they have a protective extended family (you).

7. Closing Words and Coda

Miscegenation brought about by the daughter’s lack of strong cultural identity doesn’t just lead to an existential abyss of having grandchildren who look nothing like you, sired by a male who despises you, and who grow up to regard you with contempt. It also brings on the soul-killing sadness of watching your adult daughter degenerate in a thousand little ways, reminding you of your failure every time she hits you up for money, this time because she can’t pay her car registration renewal stickers.

Rejection of one’s race or culture is also not limited to mixing with blacks. You may recall news from April 2014 about two pretty Bosnian teenage girls residing in Austria running off to Syria to join ISIS. One of them, the 17-year-old Samra Kesinovic, is now believed to have been beaten to death while attempting to flee her new comrades.

If you are a father or another relative of a young White girl, the odds that she stays true to her race are still on your side. Psychologically healthy White people are drawn to other Whites. Intermarriage rates for White women are miniscule and according to the OK Cupid study from a few years ago — and anecdotal evidence — so is interracial dating among attractive, smart young White women.

All that said, sometimes there’s not a damn thing you can do. She could be a congenital headcase, or she can baloon up to monstrous obesity despite your best efforts, and end up a mudshark. But you greatly improve your odds of her having White children and living with dignity if you as a father, or to a limited extent as another male relative, are a central part of her life during her most impressionable years.

Three generations ago, fathers could afford to be remote protectors and providers because robust faith, extended family, and community were there to nurture a child’s identity and sense of purpose. But we are now atomized and under cultural and demographic assault on all fronts. The modern White father can no longer be uninvolved in his daughter’s emotional and intellectual development. He is the only thing that stands between her and the malevolent, child-destroying maw of moloch America.

All your life all you asked
When is your Daddy gonna talk to you
But we’re living in another world
Tryin’ to get your message through

No one heard a single word you said
They should have seen it in your eyes
What was going around your head

Oh, she’s a little runaway
Daddy’s girl learned fast
All those things she couldn’t say
Ooh, she’s a little runaway

You know she likes the lights
At night on the neon Broadway signs
And she don’t really mind
Its only love she hoped to find

– Bon Jovi, “Little Runaway”