Cambria Will Not Yield

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Ballad of the Alamo

To George Bush and his fellow traitors in Congress.

Lest we forget...


In the southern part of Texas, in the town of San Antone,
There's a fortress all in ruin that the weeds have overgrown.
You may look in vain for crosses and you'll never see a one,
But sometime between the setting and the rising of the sun,
You can hear a ghostly bugle as the men go marching by;
You can hear them as they answer to that roll call in the sky:
Colonel Travis, Davy Crockett and a hundred eighty more;
Captain Dickenson, Jim Bowie, present and accounted for.

Back in 1836, Houston said to Travis:
"Get some volunteers and go fortify the Alamo."
Well, the men came from Texas and from old Tennessee,
And they joined up with Travis just to fight for the right to be free.

Indian scouts with squirrel guns, men with muzzle loaders,
Stood together heel and toe to defend the Alamo.
"You may never see your loved ones," Travis told them that day.
"Those that want to can leave now, those who'll fight to the death, let 'em stay."

In the sand he drew a line with his army sabre,
Out of a hundred eighty five, not a soldier crossed the line.
With his banners a-dancin' in the dawn's golden light,
Santa Anna came prancin' on a horse that was black as the night.

He sent an officer to tell Travis to surrender.
Travis answered with a shell and a rousin' rebel yell.
Santa Anna turned scarlet: "Play Degüello," he roared.
"I will show them no quarter, everyone will be put to the sword."

One hundred and eighty five holdin' back five thousand.
Five days, six days, eight days, ten; Travis held and held again.
Then he sent for replacements for his wounded and lame,
But the troops that were comin' never came, never came, never came.

Twice he charged, then blew recall. On the fatal third time,
Santa Anna breached the wall and he killed them one and all.
Now the bugles are silent and there's rust on each sword,
And the small band of soldiers lie asleep in the arms of The Lord.

In the southern part of Texas, near the town of San Antone,
Like a statue on his Pinto rides a cowboy all alone.
And he sees the cattle grazin' where a century before,
Santa Anna's guns were blazin' and the cannons used to roar.
And his eyes turn sort of misty, and his heart begins to glow,
And he takes his hat off slowly to the men of Alamo.
To the thirteen days of glory at the siege of Alamo.

by Dimitri Tiompkin and P. F. Webster


Sunday, June 24, 2007

On Reading

I would like to, as a preface to this post, offer a disclaimer. I am against reading for the artsy, nose-in-the-air reason found in the misnamed, now defunct "Common Reader" catalog: "Only We, of the pure and beautiful class, can understand the joys of reading." Far better to be a non-reading, beer drinking attendee of hockey games than such a reader as the "Common Reader" tried to cultivate.

Having issued that disclaimer, let me hasten to add I do not believe a true integral education can be acquired without the voluminous reading of an enthusiast. No one can get an education from the minuscule amount of reading required by a university "education."

What follows is a discussion of some of the authors that have had a major impact, for good or ill, on me over the years.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Dostoyevsky was the passion of my young manhood, as he has been the passion of so many young men since he first penned his Notes from the Underground and the five magnificent novels that followed. The great thing about Dostoyevsky is that he clears away all the rot and leaves one with a clear choice: Christ or the abyss. Konstantin Mochulsky captured the essence of Dostoyevsky's work when he said that Jesus Christ was the one great love of Dostoyevsky's life.

In Notes from the Underground, Dostoyevsky hurls his defiance at optimistic, Christless liberalism. He asserts man's free will against the 2+2=4 world of the rationalists. Better to live in a subterranean cellar of nihilism and despair than to adopt the soulless optimism of the new world order.

But Dostoyevsky does not leave us in the cellar. In Crime and Punishment, The Idiot, The Devils, A Raw Youth, and especially The Brothers Karamazov, we go through an arduous pilgrimage that ends at the foot of the cross. And the Christ we see at the end of our journey is a European Christ. Father Zosima's Christianity has nothing to do with Russian Orthodoxy. When Dostoyevsky turned to Christ while in prison, it was not to the Christ of his Orthodox childhood that he turned but to the simple suffering servant of the Gospels. The love of the God-Man was burned into his soul.

Much has been made of Dostoyevsky's anti-Catholicism, but there is no antithesis between Dostoyevsky's Christ and the Christ of Christendom. Dostoyevsky's quarrel with Roman Catholicism was with its rationalism; it was against the smug Grand Inquisitors of scholasticism which he revolted, not the Christian faith itself.

Although I recently read The Brothers Karamazov to my children, I must confess that I seldom read Dostoyevsky any more. And that is not because I find him flawed, but because having come to a belief in the God-Man, I need more than a Dostoyevskian vision to sustain my belief in Him. Dostoyevsky spends too much time in the dark, subterranean cellars of nihilism and despair. One needs to take the subterranean cellars into one's account of existence, but too much time therein can make one forget about the other world of light. Dostoyevsky realizes this of course, but has only one hand on the windowsill of religious affirmation, while the rest of his body lives in the dark cellar. All of life cannot be a film noir where one infers the light because there must be an opposite of darkness. We need something more; we need to win before we lose. Amidst the tragedy of existence, there must be white moments when one climbs over the windowsill and sees the wonders of His love.

Dostoyevsky's work is not devoid of white moments. He would have understood what C. S. Lewis meant by the term, "surprised by joy." But I need more glimpses of what is beyond the windowsill than Dostoyevsky provides, which is why, in middle age, I read more Walter Scott than Dostoyevsky. Yet, I honor the great Russian and owe him a great debt. He is one of the giants of Christendom.

Miguel de Unamuno
Unamuno has much in common with Dostoyevsky. He also makes the choice clear: Christ or the abyss. But with Unamuno one gets less of a sense of a firm hand on the windowsill of religious faith; he has only one finger on it.

Yet his critique of scholasticism is invaluable, and his "tragic sense of life" must be the starting point for religious faith.

So far as I am concerned, I will never willingly yield myself, nor entrust my confidence, to any popular leader who is not penetrated with the feeling that he who orders men, men of flesh and bone, men who are born, suffer, and, although they do not wish to die, die; men who are ends in themselves, not merely means; men who must be themselves and not others; men, in fine, who seek that which we call happiness. It is inhuman, for example, to sacrifice one generation of men to the generation which follows, without having any feeling for the destiny of those who are sacrificed, without having any regard, not for their memory, not for their names, but for them themselves.

All this talk of a man surviving in his children, or in his works, or in the universal consciousness, is but vague verbiage which satisfies only those who suffer from affective stupidity, and who, for the rest, may be persons of a certain cerebral distinction. For it is possible to possess great talent, or what we call great talent, and yet to be stupid as regards the feelings and even morally imbecile. There have been instances.

These clever-witted, affectively stupid persons are wont to say that it is useless to seek to delve in the unknowable or to kick against the pricks. It is as if one should say to a man whose leg has had to be amputated that it does not help him at all to think about it. And we all lack something; only some of us feel the lack and others do not. Or they pretend not to feel the lack, and then they are hypocrites.

A pedant who beheld Solon weeping for the death of a son said to him, "Why do you weep thus, if weeping avails nothing?" And the sage answered him, "Precisely for that reason—because it does not avail." It is manifest that weeping avails something, even if only the alleviation of distress; but the deep sense of Solon's reply to the impertinent questioner is plainly seen. And I am convinced that we should solve many things if we all went out into the streets and uncovered our griefs, which perhaps would prove to be but one sole common grief, and joined together in beweeping them and crying aloud to the heavens and calling upon God. And this, even though God should hear us not; but He would hear us. The chiefest sanctity of a temple is that it is a place to which men go to weep in common. A miserere sung in common by a multitude tormented by destiny has as much value as a philosophy. It is not enough to cure the plague: we must learn to weep for it. Yes, we must learn to weep! Perhaps that is the supreme wisdom. Why? Ask Solon.

--from The Tragic Sense of Life
Nicholas Berdyaev
I no longer read Berdyaev's works, but in my early twenties I was his devotee. His great virtue was his emphasis on God-Manhood. This sounds like a rather simple formulation, but Berdyaev emphasized that Christ was the only solution to the riddle of man. Scholasticism, Berdyaev asserted, almost made Christ unnecessary. For since we only intuit God because of our own humanity, it is not possible, Berdyaev maintained, to understand or know God except through Christ:

God is not an absolute monarch: God is a God Who suffers with the world and with man. He is crucified Love; He is the Liberator. The Liberator appears not as a power but as a Crucifixion. The Redeemer is the Liberator, and that not as settling accounts with God for crimes that have been committed. God reveals Himself as Humanity. Humanity is indeed the chief property of God, not almightiness, not omniscience and the rest, but humanity, freedom, love, sacrifice.

--from Slavery and Freedom
Berdyaev also refuted the whole modern European notion of objectivity. All metaphysical truth was subjective, Berdyaev claimed -- subjective in the sense that it was not rational as 2+2=4 is rational.

The spirit is always subjectivity and in this subjectivity transcension takes place. The objectivizing direction of consciousness leads into another sphere. Objectivization is an apparent attainment of the transcendent. It is precisely the objectivized transcendent which remains in the immanence of consciousness. The objectivizing consciousness remains in a closed circle of immanence, however much it affirms the objectivity of the transcendent, and precisely for this reason that it does affirm that objectivity of the transcendent. This is the clearest confirmation of the paradox that the objective is subjective and the subjective objective, if we make use of that out-of-date terminology.

The conception of the Absolute is the extreme limit of the objectivizing of abstract thought. In the Absolute there are not signs whatever of existence, no signs of life. The Absolute belongs not so much to religious revelation as to religious philosophy and theology. It is a product of thought. The abstract being which is in no way distinguished from non-being. You cannot pray to the Absolute. No dramatic meeting with it is possible. We call that the Absolute which has no relation to an other and has no need of an other. The Absolute is not a being, is not a personality, which always presupposes a going out from itself and a meeting with an other. The God of revelation, the God of the Bible is not the Absolute. In Him there is a dramatic life and movement, there is a relation to an other, to man, to the world. By the precepts of Aristotelian philosophy they have changed the God of the Bible into pure act, and excluded from Him all inward motion and every tragic principle. The Absolute cannot issue from itself and create the world.

-- Slavery and Freedom
I broke with Berdyaev over his contention, in which he differed with Dostoyevsky, that before the Fall, man was androgynous and would again return to androgyny. That interpretation of the Fall was offensive enough for me to leave Berdyaev behind, but I still respect his work. And I must admit that he and the other Russians, such as Vladimir Solovyov and Alexsandr Solzhenitsyn,have served me better than the "Roman Catholic authors."

A Lutheran pastor once confided to me that he was a Christian because of William Shakespeare. He was an old man at the time, and I was a young man, and I soon lost touch with him. But if I could speak to him today, I would tell him that I too am a Christian because of William Shakespeare. And please consider your letters of complaint already written and read, those of you who want to tell me that Christians are made by the grace of God and not by any human agency. I would not deny that all grace comes from God, nor would that Lutheran pastor, but are there not human conduits of God's grace?

Do you recall what Philip said to Nathaniel after he, Philip, had seen Jesus? He said, "We have found him, of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." And of course Nathaniel was underwhelmed, as we all would have been: "Can there be any good thing come out of Nazareth?"

Philip replied, "Come and see."

Philip was a wise man. He didn't try to dazzle Nathaniel with a long recitation of Biblical prophecies pertaining to the Messiah; he simply brought Nathaniel into Christ's presence. And that is what Shakespeare does. By playing Philip to our Nathaniel, he brings us into Christ's presence. He presents us with a most compelling portrait of the heart of Our Lord. Many fail to appreciate this portrait because they are holding on to only a partial faith.

What was the meaning of the Incarnation? Did Our Lord take flesh, dwell among us, suffer, die on the cross, and then rise from the dead, only to reveal to us a philosophical system? Why not simply come to one prophet in a vision? Or why not reveal, through signs and wonders, His recommended system, to a select band of sages who could then teach and disseminate the information to all God's people? Or better yet, why not just send everyone on earth a registered letter with everything spelled out?

No, none of those options could work. The key words, joined, are God-Manhood. To reveal only the divine elements of an esoteric system would not have revealed God's full nature. Nor would it have revealed to us our true natures. For in revealing to us that His divinity is linked to His humanity, He also reveals to us that our humanity, which we share with Him, is also connected to His divine life. We know now, after the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection, that He "wilt not leave us in the dust"; we are not made to die.

From the moment the veil of the Temple was rent, all philosophical systems were forever subject to Him. Speculative thought must be channeled through hearts connected to His Sacred Heart, or it becomes mere bagatelle at best and satanic revolt at its worst. In this decadent period of post-Christian history, we find churchmen of every stamp and laity from every walk of life who hold on to an intellectual version of Christianity alone. "Study that catechism, read the Church documents, learn, learn, learn; get the facts about your faith," we hear from all corners. In stark contrast to the get-the-facts men is Gerard Manly Hopkins who grasped the essence of Christianity better than anyone, when he replied to the question, "How can I know God?" with the simple words, "Give alms."

That quite simple answer, "give alms," is the key to so much. It is an excess of humanity, a charitable overflowing of the heart, which brings us closest to Our Lord. The formalists in both the Protestant and the Catholic camps are always trying to get us to shun humanity in favor of philosophical systems, with a Christian flavor to be sure, but without Christ's humanity or our own.

Shakespeare in The Merchant of Venice (which I choose here to represent his works as a whole) presents quite explicitly a vision of Our Lord that does full justice to His humanity without denying His divinity. Indeed, divine humanity is divine not because it is something other than human, but because it is more human.

But mercy is above this sceptred sway,--
It is enthroned in the hearts of Kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
Yes, God is not something completely alien to us, who can only be conjured up by great magicians and wise men. We are separated from Him, not by our humanity, but by our lack of humanity. Shylock is legally in the right if the Incarnation never took place, but he is terribly wrong if it did. Because if the Incarnation really happened, we are assured that to be in full union with Christ we must be more passionate, more humane, more merciful, and more charitable. Shylock's scale, no matter how mathematically precise, will never be correct.

I find it quite heartening to see that Shakespeare still survives and has a certain popularity. And I'm not referring to his inclusion on college syllabi; his plays are not living, breathing things to academics. No, I'm talking about a survival among readers and theatergoers who still have some spark of soul left in them. It is amazing in this Gnostic age that one still sees audiences that can be moved by the Gentle Bard.

And whereas it is quite true that we can all get to heaven without reading Shakespeare, it is also equally true that we cannot get to heaven without going there through, with, and in, Our Lord, Jesus Christ, whose inner life has been so carefully drawn for us by William Shakespeare. Shakespeare provides the proofs. He does not, like Dante, build the reader a cathedral; but he supplies the passion that gives one the desire to enter a cathedral. His vision is deeper than the theologians and the theological poets.

There is an old folk tale with many variations that best depicts the Shakespearean vision. A beggar appears at the cottage of an old man. Though close to starving himself, the old man invites the beggar to share a humble meal. During the course of the meal, the old man feels as if he is on fire, not with a fire that singes, but with a fire that gives him joy and contentment. The beggar finishes his meal and departs. The old man ponders and wonders about the beggar. That night as he kneels to pray, he realizes why he felt himself to be on fire: the beggar was Our Lord. Through humanity comes the Triune God.

I do not overstate the extent of the spiritual crisis we face. Few people believe we even face a spiritual crisis, and the ones who do, recommend more study and more Gnosticism as the solution. Let me suggest a different response.

When I was a schoolboy, my class once took a trip to a local museum. In this museum was a huge man-made heart through which you could walk and observe all the heart's inner workings. Neither I nor my classmates really cared to know about the inner workings of the heart, but we were very interested in the adventure of talking a walk through a mysterious cave. And if you ignored all the left ventricle and right ventricle nonsense, you could believe that you were going through a mysterious cave.

Well, let's turn that artificial heart into a real human heart. And let's allow the Gnostic to wander with Virgil off into outer space. We shall take Shakespeare's hand as he leads us through this giant human heart. We will go through numerous passages, down deep staircases, and finally, after a journey worthy of Jules Verne's imagination, we will arrive at the heart's center. And, lo and behold! At the center of this human heart we will find another heart. This heart has a wound in it, and it is surrounded by thorns, surmounted by a flame consuming a cross. +


The magic of Shakespeare is that the words he penned four hundred years ago still send tingles and shivers through the spine, so that even in translation they thrill people in countries that were unheard of in the England of his time. Though any more searching literary appraisal than this would be beyond the essentially historical approach of this book, the biggest disservice anyone can do to Shakespeare is to be so dazzled by his works as to argue that they could not have been written by anyone so ordinary as a Stratford-upon-Avon-born actor. The very essence of Shakespeare was his humanity: that he was neither a blue-blooded nobleman nor a university trained academic, but a humbly born player who wanted to give his calling the sort of material that could really make it soar, to reach every level of society. Where he was different from his contemporaries is that he felt with and for others in all their faults and frailties. In Julius Caesar Shakespeare has Julius say of Cassius, 'He is a great observer, and he looks quite through the deeds of men', and he could hardly have coined a more appropriate description of himself.

-- Ian Wilson in Shakespeare: The Evidence

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Bulldog Drummond – A Tribute

I'm very fond of Sapper's (H. C. McNeile) character, Hugh 'Bulldog' Drummond. I like Drummond because he stands in opposition to the intellectual detective heroes such as Sherlock Holmes. Although far from an imbecile, Drummond doesn't conquer through superior intellect; he conquers through sheer British pluck and bulldog tenacity.

Sapper always poked fun at his own and his hero's intellectual capabilities, but he very astutely delineated the metaphysic at work undermining the Western world in general and England in particular in his novels. Drummond is always up against some capitalist who uses the radical dregs of society, letting them think they are accomplishing their purposes, to destroy the old order. Of course, the two-fisted, ale-drinking Drummond always defeats the capitalist-radical coalitions. But somewhere along the line Drummond must have left us, because the sinister coalition has triumphed throughout the Western world. Infinitely more than we need Joe DiMaggio, we need Bulldog Drummond. So put out an S. O. S., calling Bulldog Drummond.

The 'Bulldog Drummond' books:
1. Bulldog Drummond
2. The Black Gang
3. The Third Round
4. The Final Count
5. The Female of the Species
6. Temple Tower
7. The Return of Bulldog Drummond
8. Bulldog Drummond Strikes Back
9. Bulldog Drummond at Bay
10. Challenge

The first four books all deal with Drummond's battles against the evil genius Carl Peterson. The fifth, my favorite, deals with Drummond's battle against the black widow mistress of Carl Peterson, Irma. This book features the most politically incorrect ending in all of literature. The first five books should be read in order; the other books need not be.

After McNeile's death in 1937, his friend Gerard Fairlie kept the Drummond character going, but I have not read the Fairlie books, so I cannot say whether or not they are up to the original ones.


Saturday, June 23, 2007

Not a Nation

"America today is not a nation as we in Europe understand the term; it is a collection of diverse, and often warring ethnic communities just occupying the same territory." -- John Tyndall

Everywhere I go I see the "Support our Troops" signs. Is it possible that anyone of white European ancestry believes that the culturally and sexually diverse army of corporate America is fighting for him? Yes, there are some deluded creatures with eviscerated hearts and addled brains that do believe it. They are men who have truly learned to love "Big Brother."

Our country is not a traditional nation. We are an 'idea' nation, which by definition is not a real nation. We were founded on a nebulous idea of liberty. But liberty from what? Well, that would have depended on whom you asked. Some, like Madison and Jefferson, wanted liberty from traditionally interpreted Christianity, while others wanted the liberty to practice their own type of Christianity, and others still simply wanted the liberty to do whatever they pleased. Since one cannot become a pure idea in one generation, Americans have a history of heroic achievements and chivalric deeds. But all such heroic achievements and chivalric deeds sprang from our European roots and our connection to the British nation. As we gradually disconnected from our European roots and became enamoured of the prostitute called the 'American Idea,' we lost touch with the loyalties and passions that make a particular people a nation instead of a blasphemous idea.

A nation has one race, one faith, and one culture. The great war of the 1860s in this country was the last attempt of my folk, the white folk, to become a European nation on the American continent. And now? The immigration rates since 1965 tell the story. White folk do not believe in either a racial or a religious view of nation. But the barbarian hordes do believe in a racial concept of nation. So we will eventually be a nation, but not a Christian nation and not a white nation. We will be a barbarian nation. Yeats described it quite well:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned:
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

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Sunday, June 17, 2007

The Underground Men

The most striking aspect of the Western world today is the absence of white Christian males. Where are they? They have gone underground, because Christian masculinity has been proscribed as illegal.

In olden times, the white Christian male was seen as an essential part of the social structure. He was the spiritual head of his family, loving his wife as Christ loved His church, and the guiding light of his young children. Certainly it is easy to go back through history and find many examples of the failure of the Christian patriarchal system, but you have to be a modern, satanic Christian not to concede that if Christianity is to be taken seriously then the patriarchal family is the main unit of society. But of course Christianity is not the faith of modern man, so the Christian patriarchal system has been jettisoned. What has taken its place?

The technocratic white man currently rules the Western world. But his is a curious rule; he rules a kingdom of unruly barbarians and Amazon warriors by making sacrificial offerings to the barbarians and strategic appeasements to the Amazons. He would rather deal with those two legions of Satan than face Christian men, because his reign of technology and money is directly opposed to Christ’s reign of charity. If that reign of charity were to be reinstated, the technocrats’ reign would end. And it is the Christian male who traditionally has sallied forth to defend and build His reign of charity.

The technocrat is strategically right, although certainly not morally right: he must favor the barbarians and the Amazons because they are like unto him, as he is like unto Satan. We can understand so much if we keep that central fact before us. The technocrat needs a satanic society if he is to rule.

The white technocrat hopes to keep the barbarians at bay by sacrificing a certain percent of what he hopes will be ‘inconsequential’ whites. Of course the risk he takes is that he might become a sacrificial victim himself, but still, the risk is small. He is much more worried about the Christian male, which is why he yawns in the face of the torture-murders of whites such as Channon Christian and Christopher Newsom but sends government troops at the first sign of a white protest of the torture murders.

Now the Amazon poses a different problem for the white technocratic male. He can go his entire life and keep the barbarian at bay by offering other whites up for sacrifice and keeping within the confines of his gated community. But he needs (unless he is of the other persuasion) to bring a female into his orbit. At some level of his being he might prefer a Christian woman, but in the cold light of reason he knows he must wed the Amazon, because the Christian woman would expect him to be, horror of horrors, a Christian male. And he proceeds to deal with the Amazon as Satan dealt with Eve. He poses as the Amazon’s liberator by presenting to her as rights those things which God forbade her for her own protection. The Amazon is allowed to abort, to fight in the military, and to compete in the workplace. She is allowed to be male in all things, providing she stays a biological female. But since even the technocratic male and the Amazonian female have souls, both are inwardly restless.

The Amazonian feminist who has denounced femininity claims she doesn’t want to be seen as simply a body, but of course that is the only thing of interest she has left. The technocratic male has to pretend that he is really impressed with the mind of the Amazon, but he is not. The female mind can only function properly when it is connected to a female soul, and when she denounces her soul in the attempt to be masculine she becomes the very thing she claims to detest – a brainless bimbo. One need only look at all of the pretty plastic female newscasters who pollute the airwaves. They try to look so serious and talk like men, but does any male really take them seriously for any other reason than the fact they are biologically female?

The de-feminized, de-Christianized female is the most dangerous creature on the face of the earth. She has all the power that comes with femininity but lacks any of the moral restraints that Christianity gave to her. Lady Macbeth is rightly regarded as a monster when she asks the spirits of darkness to “unsex me here” and later gives the faltering Macbeth an impromptu pep talk that makes one’s blood run cold:

I have given suck, and know
How tender ‘tis to love the babe that milks me;
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck’d my nipple from his boneless gums
And dash’d the brains out, had I so sworn as you
Have done to this.
But when virtually every woman is a Lady Macbeth, can they still be called monsters? No, not by the men in charge of the society that has spawned the legions of Lady Macbeths. But the Christian underground man can say what she is – a fiend from hell. And who would be married to hell? The technocrat of course. And he pays a prize for his hellish union. The modern Lady Macbeths are fond of saying that a man wants only one thing of them, and that is true of the modern technocrat. Of course he only wants one thing; what else can she offer? But the modern Lady Macbeth wants only one thing from the male as well. She wants him to act aggressively in behalf of her illicit whims. In the case of Lady Macbeth, it meant that her husband had to kill Duncan; in the case of our contemporary, spiritually unsexed females, it means that the white technocrat must aggressively fight for her whims in the technocratic world of bulls, bears, and computers.

The female of the species will never know what it is like to be loved enough to be put in the female’s proper place, the Christian hearth, and the technocratic male will never know what it feels like to have “one whispering silken gown,” across his life. And that is a tragedy. But the technocratic male and the de-feminized female chose their fates. Far more tragic is the fate of the victims (the children who are murdered in the womb or who are spiritually neutered at birth), the ‘collateral’ damage, if you will, of the satanic utopia of the Bill Gates and Nancy Pelosies.

There is a group of white men who are still allowed to graze in the pastures of the upper world. They are to be found leaning over their backyard fences talking about the upcoming hunting season or about next Sunday’s football game. If you want to alienate these white grazers, just bring up some topics like the Mexican invasion, the black war against whites, or George Bush’s plan to eradicate all national boundaries. They’ll run back into their house, turn the TV on, grab a beer from the fridge, and tell their wife that the guy next door is some kind of nut.

As long as the grazers are allowed to shoot off their guns a few times a year and watch the gladiators on TV, they are content. But they don’t realize that they are the ones being fattened up as sacrificial victims for the barbarians of color. If you try to warn the grazers, they will simply burp.

And the sons and the daughters of the grazers are easily siphoned off. The daughters who have the ability are allowed to enter the world of the technocratic males, and the ones who do not are permitted to mate with the barbarians in order to escape the odium of being wedded to a white man with connections to the older, white civilizations.

The sons of the grazers usually cannot become technocrats, because there is very little room at the top of the food chain. The sons are permitted to fight for the technocrats, however. Aggressive, masculine, even warlike behavior is countenanced by the technocrats if the aggressive masculine action is done in defense of the ruling technocratic oligarchy. The Iraq war is a case in point. “Support our troops!” cry the technocrats. Of course they should support the troops: the troops are fighting for them.

Before we come to the underground men, let us pause to acknowledge a few saints. They are the Christian women. Because they are female, they are not, as the Christian men are, banished to the underworld. They are allowed to stay loyal to the crucified white males, but why should they? They have nothing to gain by remaining faithful, at least nothing in the worldly sense. They are a dying breed. If you are an underground man, and you find such a woman, cherish her.

And now we come to the men who were and are the subjects of these wars. It is easy to deprecate the white Christian, underground male of today if we compare him to men like Robert E. Lee and Nathan Bedford Forrest, but the battlefield is different today, and the enemy is much more formidable than it was in the days of Lee and Forrest. The Christian warrior of today has much more of an internal war than did the Christian warrior of old. If not completely equal, can we not at least say that the heroism of the modern underground Christian man, in his fight to keep his soul unpolluted by the satanic forces surrounding him, is close to the heroism of such men as Lee and Forrest? I think it is. I have known such men. They stand with Cyrano and tell the world that they have held “One thing without stain, Unspotted from the world, in spite of doom, Mine own! My white plume…”

The technocrat might hold the world in his hands, while the white Christian men are banished to the underground. But when the great Cavalier makes his final charge, He will look for the men with the white plumes. And we will be ready to ride with our King in the great and final conflict.

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Sunday, June 10, 2007

Ethnic Cleansing and Satan Worship

I recently, while trying to clear my desk of the ever-mounting pile of papers, came across a transcript of a C-Span broadcast from 1999. The broadcast featured a meeting of the Council of Conservative Citizens on the subject of immigration. The speakers varied on their solutions to the problem, but all recognized that America’s immigration policy was really an ethnic cleansing policy. “If these shadows are not altered, the white race will disappear” was the consensus of the men present at the forum.

The late Samuel Francis’s talk was particularly insightful. He told the story of a group of businessmen in Richmond, Virginia, who decided to put some murals of famous people up on a new canal walk downtown in order to attract tourists to the city. One mural was of the Negro, Gabriel Prosser, who had led a bloody, anti-white slave revolt in Charleston, and another was of the Indian chief who had wanted to kill Captain John Smith. There was also a mural of Robert E. Lee.

This, Samuel Francis said, is what businessmen call “multiculturalism.” But it is not what the Negroes call multiculturalism. Multiculturalism for the Negro means black power. Enter on the scene City Councilman Sa’ad El-Amin. (I hope I don’t have to tell you what color he is.) El-Amin demanded that the mural of Robert E. Lee be taken down. The businessmen complied, of course. And of course the mural of the bloodthirsty Indian savage and the bloodthirsty Negro barbarian were not taken down. That, Mr. Samuel Francis said, is the reality of the racial war we face today. What whites think is multiculturalism is what the blacks know to be an outright war. “Who will be master?” is all they care about.

I remember there were Catholics at the C of CC meeting who pointed out, with sadness and shame, that Karol Wojtyla was in favor of open borders. But that was completely consistent with his liberal policies on capital punishment and war. We are not supposed to defend our society against murderous thugs (he routinely begged clemency for child molesters), nor are we to defend our race against those who seek to eradicate it.

I checked the C of CC web site after the meeting. The emails from many black folk were not denials of their evil intent but were instead gloating affirmations of their intent to destroy the white race.

It’s been almost seven years since that C of CC meeting. How do we stand now? We stand even closer to the abyss. The Catholic and Protestant churches are just as anti-white as they were seven years ago. Furthermore, there is a maniacally anti-white, Robiespierre-type personality in the White House. But ultimately the leaders of the Christian churches must bear the blame for the death of the white Christian peoples. ‘Why not the Jews?’ is a question I’m frequently asked. “Aren’t they manically anti-European?”[1] Yes, the Jews are behind most of the anti-European movements, but organized Jewry is not something new. It has been with us ever since that little child of Bethlehem became the centerpiece of Western civilization. The Jews were not, of themselves, capable of destroying Western civilization; they needed professed Christians willing to denounce Christ. And that is the something new that has emerged in the 20th century, coming to fruition in the 21st century. There’ve always been the Illuminati – and I mean no specific cult when I use that term – who loved knowledge and the power they thought it could bring them more than they loved the Man of Sorrows. But in the 20th century the Illuminati have become legion. Of course this didn’t happen overnight, but it is now a reality. The Christ who is worshipped in the modern churches is not the same Christ to whom the Europeans, prior to the 20th century, bent their knees. To see this is true, one need only refer to the principal historians of every age, the true chroniclers of history: the poets or the bards. The Christianity depicted in the novels of Walter Scott, La Fanu, Ian Maclaren, and so on, is diametrically opposed to the Christianity presented in the modern Christian churches. The older Christianity spoke to the hearts of men who were destined to die but who hoped they were not born to die. The old hymn expressed it well: “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”

One’s own death is a very personal thing, and only a personal God, a God who loves in the particular, not in the generic, would bother about the death of one such individual. There was no denial in the older Christianity of the universal nature of Christ’s personal concern for individual human beings. But the great insight of old Europe was that the universal nature of God’s love could only be known through the particular, the personal (which includes the racial), and the parochial. And how did the European gain this insight about God? The same way that Edgar knew about the miseries of his father: “By nursing them.” The first man of Europe had to decide whether to open for the old beggar knocking at his door. At first, he let him in and gave Him a meal and a seat by the fire because his heart was stirred by pity, but as the evening wore on he was conscious of a burning fire, not in the hearth, but in his heart. And behold, the beggar man was Christ the King!

It must have been like this. The everlasting glory of the European is that he and he alone saw that “Mercy was an attribute to God himself.” To have seen that, to have placed the God of Mercy at the heart of his civilization instead of the warrior gods of his ancestors and the bush and voodoo gods of the colored peoples, was the greatest achievement in human history.

Racial identity was different for the old European than it was for the colored people.[2] The European looked on miscegenation with horror because he was the Christ-bearer. Who would stand up for the God of mercy if he didn’t? And when the whites mixed with the non-whites, as the Spanish did in Mexico, it was a sin against the faith. A true European Christian knows, with a certainty that is bred in the bone, that if he is to remain Christian, and if the church is to remain Christian instead of Babylonian, he must remain true to his Christ-bearing ancestors and remain white.

I recently read the magnificent Drumtochty novels of Ian Maclaren to my children. To leave that Christian world, which one must do when done reading, and to enter the modern world is exactly like leaving Narnia for that hideous modern school, as the children in C. S. Lewis’s The Silver Chair must do. I’m not a conspiracy-theorist, but I think there is one conspiracy that has been overlooked: Satan, so lacking in vision and the poetic sense, has an advertiser’s skill in imitation. If he sees something that is successful he apes it. And I think he has very successfully managed, within the Christian churches, to get Satanism accepted as Christianity. The figure of Christ presented in the churches today is really Satan. Certainly no one can be happy who has consciously and completely given themselves to Satan, so I don’t mean to suggest that our modern churchmen and those who follow them have made a conscious pact with the devil.[3] They retain certain aspects of the old Christian faith – love of their own family (though not of their own race) and a respect for Christmas – which distinguished the Christians of old. But their vision of Christ is not the vision that the older Christian Europeans had. The new Satanic Christians see Christ as one who illuminates, not as one who saves. He is a God of the academy, not of the hearth. He is a God of the intellect, not of the heart. He is a God of a multiracial Babylon, not of segregated Christian communities. In short, the new Christ is not Christ, he is Satan.

All societal problems of any weight are at bottom religious ones. When Europe and her satellites were Christian, they were white. And when they ceased to be Christian, they ceased to be white. The black problem and the immigration problem are problems of faith. Europeans must love Him enough to banish the apeish clown who is using His name to perpetuate his filthy, dirty ideas throughout the world. I don’t see how it is humanly possible to force Satan, now that he is so comfortably entrenched in the very bowels of Western civilization, into exile. But then I don’t see how it was humanly possible to have built a civilization based on mercy rather than sacrifice, to have written King Lear, or to have composed The Messiah. To the Christ-bearers, everything is possible.

[1] Because of his place at the head of the most visible and organized of the Christian churches, the Roman Catholic pope is in a position to do greater harm to Christianity than the Jews are. And I would suggest that if every evil act ever perpetuated against Christians and the Christian church by the Jews was put together, they could not equal, nay, could not even touch the evil that was wrought by John Paul II with his anti-European ethnic cleansing policies. It is so painfully ironic. A utopian mind like that of the late John Paul II’s could only have come from a culture that had raised men high enough above the purely animal level to allow them to dream utopian dreams. And yet utopian schemers like Wojtyla dream for the destruction of the civilization that allowed them to dream. Move out of your ivory towers, ye churchmen of the West, expose yourselves to feel what wretches feel -- the Christian laymen, who are devoid of support from churchmen who should, but do not, set up borders to keep heathen philosophies out of the church and who are devoid of support from governments that have mandated the ethnic cleansing of white European Christians.

[2] The colored is proud of his race because it is his. And sometimes he loves his own. The antique, white European loved his own because they were his own, but he was proud of his race because of who his race carried on their shoulders.

[3] Though not embracing Satan fully, consciously, and completely, I think the modern churchman has very definitely rejected Christ. How else can we explain his refusal to acknowledge the obvious? When European civilization was white it was Christian. Now that it is multiracial, it is not Christian. The result has not been good for white or black.

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Plain Folk of the Old South

"The term 'folk' has for its primary meaning a group of kindred people, forming a tribe or nation; a people bound together by ties of race, language, religion, custom, tradition, and history. Such a common tie we call folkways. A folk thus possesses a sense of solidarity and is quite different from a conglomerate mass of people. It has most if not all of the characteristics of nationalism. Indeed, it may be contended with much force that there can be no true nationalism where the population does not constitute a folk."

-- Frank L. Owsley

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The Romance of Christianity

The great shift from a romantic view of the Christian faith, the most notable exponent of which was St. Paul, to a more classical or philosophical view of the faith was a fateful turning point for Western man. It seemed like such a slight change during the Middle Ages, but the desolation that has come about because of the shift is a tragedy of epic proportions.

The Classicist usually starts from a general premise, takes a panoramic view of humanity, and then forces the individuals seen in his panoramic view to fit into his general premise. Milton, who sets out to justify the ways of God to man, is a perfect example of the classical approach. Milton’s is a very ambitious, general premise, but he fails to prove it, and instead makes Satan seem sympathetic. The reason he fails is because he doesn’t work from the particular to the general as a Romantic would.

Dostoyevsky, the Romantic, sets out to tell a personal tale of the Brothers Karamazov, and in doing so builds up a much more effective case for the ways of God. He does so by not attempting to rationalize the mystery of evil and suffering. In the climactic scene between the atheistic Ivan Karamazov and the believing Alyosha Karamazov, it is not the syllogism which Alyosha uses to confront Ivan’s atheism; it is the humanity of Christ that he brings into the lists. In Dostoyevsky’s original manuscript this was not the case; he had Alyosha give a reasoned rebuttal to Ivan’s atheism. But with his magnificent intuitive sense of the essence of Christianity, Dostoyevsky changed his first draft and had Alyosha stand by the God-Man alone, while Ivan stood by his well-reasoned, impassioned refutation of Christianity.

In my judgment, it has been one of the great errors of Christian apologists over the last three centuries that they have not avoided the trap that Dostoyevsky did avoid. They have followed the path of Milton and attempted to justify the ways of God to man by way of the syllogism. It hasn’t worked. It never will. The impassioned atheist will always defeat the Classicist. Only the Romantic’s loins are sufficiently girded to do battle with the Ivan Karamazovs of the world. The Classicists fail because they insist on regarding the Christian Faith as something that can be explained by charts and diagrams. Ronald Knox sensed there was something wrong with this type of apolgetic and hoped for a better one.

What I am concerned with is our apolgetics, and that great work of apologetic, some day to be written, which shall suggest to the reader that in approaching Christian theology he is approaching something that is alive, not a series of diagrams. The hardest part of the author’s task as I see it, will be to introduce some human element into natural theology; to prove that God is, and what God is, not merely with the effect of intellectual satisfaction, but with a glow of assent that springs from the whole being; ‘did not our hearts burn within us when he talked to us by the way?’
Why can’t the Classicist and the charts-and-diagrams theologian be effective? Because they try to go too far with reason alone. They see divinity only in man’s rationality but not in the divine intuitions and those “white moments” that bring us to the foot of the Cross. And by trying to go too far with reason alone, they overreach themselves. They give false answers, like Job’s comforters, to questions about evil and suffering that are best left to the Alyoshas and St. Francises of Assisi of the world.

I vividly recall a public debate I witnessed as a twenty-year-old college student. The debate was between an Ivan Karamazov-styled atheist and a Thomist. I was quite prepared to side with the Thomist, because I was a very reluctant agnostic at the time, but I had to admit at the end of the debate that the Thomist had not made a very good case for God. By relying solely on the Thomistic proofs for God’s existence, he left the more human side of the argument to the atheist. When the Thomist took the panoramic, philosophic view of Ivan Karamozov’s seven-year-old girl being beaten with a knotted rope, he left me and most of the audience with a decidedly hostile opinion of religious faith. “Apparently,” I thought, “there is a type of atheism that is purer and cleaner than some people’s religion.” It was some years later before I saw a different side of God, through the good offices of Dostoyevsky and Shakespeare.

Richard Weaver, steeped in the classics as he was, might seem like an odd man to call forth in defense of Romanticism. But Weaver condemned only the Romanticism of Shelley and Keats, not genuine Romanticism. Any man who says that “Sentiment is anterior to reason,” is very much in line with Romanticism. Weaver goes on to say, “Surmounting all is an intuitive feeling about the immanent nature of reality, and this is the sanction to which both ideas and beliefs are ultimately referred for verification.”

The mistake of the Classicist is not that he classifies; he commits his grave error when he classifies without regard for the initial intuitive feeling which surmounts all of reality. By leaving out that intuitive feeling, the Classicist goes forever around in a circle unconnected to reality, leading nowhere.

There is an epiphany, much like the one experienced by St. Paul, at the heart of all our intuitions. It is the task of the dramatic poets, by their vision, and the saints, by their example, to help us to realize that in the deep recesses of our soul there is a passionate ardent lover who calls us by name.

The classical theologian tells us that such romantic intuitions are pure nominalism: “What you are saying is that nothing is true unless a particular individual feels it to be true.”

No; what I am saying is that if we strip away the artificially contrived rationalizations and the false passions (as distinct from the true), we are ready to respond to the revealed truth of the God-Man. If, on the other hand, we make reason independent from revelation, asserting only reason can prove the truths of revelation, and if we make nature separate from grace, then we have pure reason forever looking at material nature, with no room for the particular human being or the particular God-Man who should be at the center of creation. I see in the Classicists’ separation of nature from grace, and reason from revealed truth, the source of white-hating Christianity and atheism.

Was Karl Adam incorrect when he placed such great emphasis on the false path taken by Western man when the separation of nature from grace occurred? I think not.

Our thought is now divorced from the totality of being, from the wealth of all the possibilities, since it has isolated itself from the creative thought of God. Too little attention has been paid to what Étienne Gilson, in his great book, La Philosophie de S. Bonaventure, has told us about the literally passionate hostility shown by that brilliant Franciscan towards the Aristotelian epistemology taken over by SS. Albert and Thomas Aquinas. At that time in the fight against the Platonist-Augustinian illumination theory, which referred every ultimate and absolute certainty to an inflowing of divine light, and thus linked in the most intimate union created and divine knowledge, human perception was thrown on its own resources, and consequently knowledge and faith, the natural and supernatural, were neatly separated, and it was then that the primary conditions were created in which a world, which was more and more rapidly breaking loose from the primacy of faith, could emancipate all human thought from the creative thought of God. Men artificially mapped out a particular field of reality and called it Nature. They thus awakened and encouraged the evil illusions that the other reality, that of the supernatural, of God, had been brought into apposition with it from without, and that it was a more or less secondary reality. Nature was secularized by being released – from the epistemological standpoint – from its actual union with the supernatural, and the fiction was favoured that Nature was a thing per se capable of complete explanation independently of any outside factor. Thus we have all become secularized in our thought and we have schemata in our hands, or rather in our minds, which do not lead to the Divine, to Christ, but away from him.

The Son of God
Let me place the dramatic poet, William Shakespeare, and the saint, Francis of Assisi, at the forefront to drive home the case for the romantic vision.

Shakespeare has survived even in these post-Christian times as no other great poet of Europe has. The late Alan Bloom, certainly not infallible but in this instance quite profound, says this about Shakespeare:

[Shakespeare] is the only classical author who remains popular. [Ed: Bloom obviously uses the word ‘classical’ to indicate an older, traditional poet, and not in the sense in which I use it.] The critical termites are massed and eating away at the foundations, trying to topple him. Whether they will succeed will be a test of his robustness... But it is still true today that all over the world the titles of Shakespeare’s plays have a meaning that speaks to common consciousness. Hamlet, Lear, Othello all call forth images in the minds of all classes of men across national boundaries. Perhaps the understanding of, or even acquaintance with, Shakespeare’s plays is rather thin, but no one reacts with boredom or the sense that he stands only for bookish edification. This is why the theater is so lively in England and they keep producing such wonderful actors there. Racine and Molière in France, Lessing and Goethe in German, and Dante and Petrarch in Italy have no vitality in the eyes of ordinary young persons. They are dead, merely culture. No normal young person would prefer spending time with one of these great writers to going to a concert of the latest rock group. Shakespeare is practically our only link with the classic and the past. The future of education has much to do with whether we will be able to cling to him or not.
Leaving aside the literary critics, who do not appreciate Shakespeare on any deep level, let us ask ourselves why Shakespeare still moves us. They key, I think, lies in the phrase most often used to describe him: “The Gentle Bard.” We sense on some deep, often unconscious level of our being, that Shakespeare knows all our faults, all of our blackest sins, and yet he sees something redeemable in us. Shakespeare, Chesterton once remarked regarding King Lear, is optimistic about human nature even when he is being pessimistic. Yes, redeemable, worthy of mercy; this is the view of man we get from Shakespeare. We do not get proofs based on the nature of pure essences, we see proofs based on the nature of man. Such creatures as Cordelia, Edgar, and (dare we say it?) ourselves were not made for death.

St. Francis embodied in his person the romantic vision of Shakespeare. His faith was uniquely his own subjective faith, and yet it was grounded in the objective fact of revealed religion. His personal intuitions did not separate him from God, they brought him to God. He did not run away from men when he ran to God, he carried them with him and allowed them to see, through him, the face of the living God. And, just as the vision of Shakespeare prompts us to call him the Gentle Bard, so does the magnificence of St. Francis inspire us to think of gentleness and peace, not the peace of pacifism or the peace of unbelief and ecumenism, but the peace that passeth all knowledge.

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Tuesday, June 05, 2007


While reading Slavomir Rawicz’s account of his long walk (The Long Walk: The True Story of a Trek to Freedom, Lyons Press, 1997), I was struck with certain similarities between his life and that of the fictional hero, Dr. Zhivago, from Boris Pasternak’s novel of the same name. Let me briefly describe Rawicz’s life as he relates it in his book.

The author was a young Polish army officer in 1939, and while on leave at his home near the Russian border, he was arrested by Russian Communists. The Russians, in their infinite wisdom, knew that all Polish army officers living on the border were spies, so Rawicz was taken to prison and tortured for a year and then sentenced to serve twenty-five years in Siberia.

But Rawicz did not want, for some inexplicable reason, to spend twenty-five years in Siberia, so he and six companions escaped and walked through Siberia, Mongolia, the Gobi Desert, and the Himalayan Mountains to freedom.

The critics hailed Rawicz’s odyssey as a triumph of the human spirit, which it certainly is, but I would label it a triumph of the Christian spirit. It isn’t the fact that Rawicz and the other men survive that matters most, it is the fact that they survive while maintaining their human dignity that counts. For instance, when a young, attractive Polish girl joins the seven men early in their escape (she had escaped from another camp), all the men treat her in a protective, fatherly fashion. She is not made into a company whore but is instead treated as a Madonna figure.

In addition, when a person falls and cannot continue, the others refuse to go on without him. That kind of deep blood Christianity demonstrated by the seven men and the girl is what makes this book special. (Alas, three men and the girl do not make it.) Incredible survival stories are interesting, but it is the way these men and the girl conduct themselves that sets this survival story apart from other such stories.

One of my favorite sections of the book is the white moment when one of the men, a gentle giant from Latvia, performs a Herculean feat of strength and a supernatural act of charity. After going countless days and nights without food or water, he still manages to carry the young Polish girl through the desert.
“Stick beside me, Slav,” said Kolemenos. “I am going to carry her.” And he lifted her into his arms, swayed for a moment as he adjusted himself to the weight, and staggered off. He carried her for fully two hundred yards and I was there to ease her down when he paused for a rest.

“Please leave me, Anastazi,” she begged. “You are wasting your strength.” He looked at her but could not bring himself to speak.

We made a shelter there and stayed for perhaps three hours through the worst heat of the day. She lay still—I do not think she could move. The ugly swelling was past the knees and heavy with water. Kolemenos was flat on his back, restoring his strength. He knew what he was going to do.

The sun began to decline. Kolemenos bent down and swung her into his arms and trudged off. I stayed with him and the rest were all about us. He covered fully a quarter of a mile before he put her down that first time. He picked her up again and walked, her head pillowed on his great shoulder. I can never in my life see anything so magnificent as the blond-bearded giant Kolemenos carrying Kristina, hour after hour, towards darkness of that awful sixth day. His ordeal lasted some four hours. Then she touched his cheek.

“Put me on the ground, Anastazi. Just lay me down on the ground.”

I took her weight from him and together we eased her down. We gathered round her. A wisp of a smile hovered about the corners of her mouth. She looked very steadily at each one of us in turn and I thought she was going to speak. Her eyes were clear and very blue. There was a great tranquility about her. She closed her eyes.
Rawicz never returned to Poland to see the young bride that he had married only months before his imprisonment. He does not make it clear whether his first wife was killed by the Communists or whether he was simply unable to get back to her. He merely says she was lost to him. He also never saw his mother and father or his friends in Poland again. He lived in exile in England, and married an English woman who gave him four children. At the time of the book’s publication, he was in his eighties.

In comparison, Dr. Zhivago’s life spans the last years of the Czars and the early years of the Bolshevik’s regime. He is married and working as a medical doctor at the time of Russia’s entry into World War I and is conscripted into the Czar’s army to work in a hospital near the front. After finishing his work for the Czarist forces, he attempts to return to private life, but after a few years of family life he is forcibly abducted into the Bolshevik army. He eventually escapes by taking a long walk across Russia but never sees his wife and children again. He is also, eventually, separated from his second common-law wife and daughter through the exigencies of the Communist Revolution.

What the fictional character Zhivago and the author Rawicz have in common is that they both are uprooted from a traditional way of life by the new materialist, Communist system. They could not hide themselves in the new system as one could hide in less totalitarian systems. “Is there no escape for him? Couldn’t he run away?” “Where could he run, Larisa Feodorovna? You could do that in the old days, under the Tsars. But just you try nowadays.”

I suppose one could read Rawicz’s book or Pasternak’s novel and come up with the American response, “Thank God we are a free country and not a Communist one.” But such a response would be off the mark. The essence of Communism is its materialism. When individuals are no longer seen as members of communities, churches, and families, but as consumers, workers, and producers, they have ceased to be human in the eyes of those who rule and have become inhuman cogs in an inhuman machine of government. Dislocated lives such as those lived by Zhivago and Rawicz are the result of such materialism. But we must realize that our own materialistic economic system has perpetuated the same type of dislocation that materialistic Communism has. The methods of coercion differ but the goal of both the Russian Communists and the U. S. capitalists is the same: a Utopian, machine-based society governed by an elect few and peopled by robot-like human beings. The Russian Communists tried the masculine method of coercion: “Do what we say or go to the Gulag.” The American capitalists took the feminine approach and seduced their victims first. The seduction has been more successful than the closed fist. In America we do willingly what the Communists had to force their people to do. We send our children to state schools, treat men and women as economic units only, and sever all ties with kith, kin, and place in order to “go where the jobs are.”

The question, “Who are you?”, used to be answered in the Old Country with an answer like, “I am Michael, son of Jonathan, the blacksmith in the village of Avoca.” Now, one answers the question with, “I am Mike, super computer whiz and a child of cyber space.” Economic systems can bear a certain amount of dissection and reorganization, but human souls cannot. They are made for the “the tilled field and hedgerow, linked to the ploughed furrow, the frequented pasture, the lane of evening lingerings, the cultivated garden plot.” They are not made for the dynamo.

The two great Utopian states, Communist Russia and the United States, have denied the one thing that is necessary for mankind to breath: the human soul. And yet the U.S., having consumed the Russian heresy, has tottered into the 21st century with no signs of repentance. Dislocation, so long as it is not accompanied by the harsh physical suffering of Rawicz and Zhivago, will be looked upon as normal, and those who resist will be labeled as psychologically unstable or even criminally insane. Thus sickness will be health, and health, sickness, and the deaf will shout warnings to the deaf.

“Then he made John sit in the machine and he himself sat beside him. Then he began pulling the levers about and for a long time nothing happened: but at last there came a flash and a roar and the machine bounded into the air and then dashed forward. Before John had got his breath they had flashed across a broad thoroughfare which he recognized as the main road, and were racing through the country to the north of it—a flat country of square stony fields divided by barbed wire fences. A moment later they were standing still in a city where all the houses were built of steel.”

-- from The Pilgrim’s Regress by C. S. Lewis

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The New Black Church

I once, when still a member in good standing of the Catholic Church, attended a dinner party which was also attended by a white priest. The priest was the pastor at the church where most of the parishioners were black. When one of the white dinner guests asked him, quite innocently, why he didn’t say the rosary before mass in the black church, the priest replied that “devotion to the Blessed Mother was not part of the black faith.” Now, the important issue here is not whether you think Catholics place too much emphasis on the Virgin Mary; the issue is white betrayal. Why should a guardian of the faith sacrifice a major devotion rather than offend black people? It was not a case of wanting not to offend the sensibilities of new converts from Protestantism unaccustomed to such devotions, because no white convert was ever exempted from the rosary, nor would he have expected to be exempted. No, what was going on in that parish, orchestrated by the kindly Father Trendy, was the repudiation of European Christianity for a new, black Christianity.

The new creed was never written down, but if put into words it would read: “White European = The Antichrist. Anti-white European = Christian.” So, welcome the black Übermenschen faith.

The new black faith was, of necessity, everything the white faith wasn’t: it was anti-European instead of European, and it was black rather than white. It suddenly became very Christian to call murderous thugs like Nelson Mandela “great saints,” and to support the Africanization of not only Africa, but of Europe and the United States as well. It was good to shout, “Africa for blacks!” – and our clergymen led the cheering section – but it was a very bad thing to shout, “Europe and its satellites should remain white!”

Well, we will soon have the black Europe and the black church that our churchmen seek. But like little children who get sick when they are allowed to consume as much chocolate cake as they demand, the white-hating, white churchmen will sicken and surely die when they are forced to worship in a black-dominated church, because the black faith is not the Christian faith; it is a very cruel faith that knows not charity.

If white Christians truly looked on blacks as human beings instead of fantasy figures, they would see that blacks are “half devil and half child,” and they would take the appropriate steps to deal with the demon children. The first step would consist of strong and fierce suppression of their violent tendencies, and the second step would include evangelization and charitable outreach á la Albert Schweitzer. But there should be no step that includes mongrelization and white capitulation to black devil worship.

This is not just some little theory of mine. Look at the evidence. Look at Haiti or New Orleans or any of the African countries. What kind of faith is it that prevails when blacks predominate? It is a faith without the Gentle Savior that the men and women of Europe and the first apostles came to love. In the new faith, we bow down before an African god, a cruel god, a barbarian god.

And of course it is insane and contradictory for the black-worshipping white clergyman to want the black faith to prevail, because if he truly loved the black man (which should not be our main reason for supporting European Christianity), he would want the black man to give up voodoo Christianity and adhere to the faith of the white man. But like the swine in the Gospel story, our white clergymen are determined to plunge headlong over the cliff. We don’t have to go over with them, however.

The white betrayal of whites is not confined to liberal clergymen. Even so called conservatives and traditionalists in the Catholic and Protestant churches are quite willing to play the race card in order to advance their own agendas. They fantasize that if they kowtow to a black constituency, they can keep them under control with their superior grasp of the technique of clerical manipulation, and thus be the power behind the tribal hordes. But that will not be the case. The Gnostic liberal and the Gnostic conservative-traditionalist always overestimate their abilities to control events. What will happen to the Gnostic clergymen was acted out on the silver screen in countless jungle movies. The movie, Tarzan and the Lost Safari, starring Gordon Scott (the last decent Tarzan) is a case in point.[1] And I make no apology for taking an example from a simple story because what their “wisdoms could not discover these simple fools have brought to light.”

In the movie, Tarzan, with the aid of a great white hunter, tries to lead the white survivors of a plane crash through the dangerous land of the Opar men. Unbeknownst to Tarzan and the white survivors, the great white hunter has made a deal with the Opar men; he will deliver the whites into their hands in exchange for ivory. But things go awry for the great white hunter. The chief decides to kill him as well as the other whites, reasoning thus: “You betray your own people, you will betray us.” Tarzan, because he is Tarzan, manages to turn the tables on the black Opar men and free all the whites, except the treacherous great white hunter who is killed by the Opar men (he does not win who plays with sin).

In real life, the blacks will indeed kill the treacherous white hunter, but there will be no Tarzan to rescue the rest of the whites.

And again, it is not a question of liberal vs. conservative. When the concrete, personal faith of the God-Man becomes an abstraction to the liberal and the conservative, then both are the enemies of the antique faith of the white man. The liberal churchman sees the black man as the great and pure new Christian who has been on the fringes of European civilization and who has not taken part in the building of it. Hence, he is the only pure one. He has had no connection to the great evil – European civilization.

And the conservative envisions millions of black adherents aiding him in his warfare with the liberal churchmen.[2] Of course the conservative never imagines that instead of gaining new adherents to his intellectualized version of Christianity, he will end up in the same stew pot as the liberals.

The modern clergy are determined not to see the black man as he really is. And of course that is entirely in keeping with their view of God. They are determined not to see Him as He really is. And there are none so blind as those that…

[1] It is amazing how accurate the pre-1960 jungle movies are in their betrayal of blacks. There is always a great white-capitalist or a group of greedy white capitalists who will sell out their fellow whites for gold. And the black natives always want one thing. They want to murder and torture whites. It is certainly remarkable to see how true to their much celebrated African roots American blacks have been.
[2] For instance, fundamentalist Henry M. Morris in his book, The Long War Against God, plays the race card by equating evolutionists such as Darwin with racism and therefore smearing all “racist” whites as Darwinists and Nazis.
The late Rev. Jerry Falwell regularly equated Southern slavery and legalized abortion as the same type of social evil, thus jettisoning his white Christian ancestors while kowtowing to modernity.
And on the Catholic side, Michael Davis of the Latin Mass movement, threw an Italian Cardinal, who spoke out against the election of a black Pope, under the racial bus in order to gain black and liberal support for the Tridentine Mass movement.

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