Cambria Will Not Yield

Sunday, May 31, 2009

The European Stands Alone

From that wild scene of fiendish strife,
To light, to liberty, and life!

Time flies even when you’re not having fun. This was borne home to me recently when I rediscovered a twenty-year old letter in my desk drawer. “Did that much time elapse already?” The letter was a not a fan letter. Some woman had glommed onto one sentence in an article I had written and decided on that basis that I was “racist.” I was surprised, not because I had never been called a racist before but because the article she did not like was only tangentially about race. It was primarily about Christianity. The sentence that earned me the racist label was the one in which I linked the words “white” and “Christian.” “What is your theory on race?” the woman demanded.

I answered the woman’s letter and attempted to explain my theory on race. That was a mistake. It was a mistake because the woman had already made up her mind I was racist and therefore outside the ken of humanity. And it was also a mistake because in reality I had no theory on race. But I succumbed to the temptation of trying to combat modernism with the weapon of modernism, which was, and is, abstract theory. Modern man is in the grips of a very old heresy, which he thinks is quite new, the Greek heresy. The Greek philosophers thought wisdom could be put in a silver rod, and modern man, being quite unoriginal, thinks so too. Charles Dickens, in his masterpiece, Great Expectations, shows us the difficulties of proceeding through life without a theory:
By that time, I was staggering on the kitchen floor like a little drunkard, through having been newly set upon my feet, and through having been fast asleep, and through waking in the heat and lights and noise of tongues. As I came to myself... I found Joe telling them about the convict's confession, and all the visitors suggesting different ways by which he had got into the pantry. Mr. Pumblechook made out, after carefully surveying the premises, that he had first got upon the roof of the forge, and had then got upon the roof of the house, and had then let himself down the kitchen chimney by a rope made of his bedding cut into strips; and as Mr. Pumblechook was very positive and drove his own chaise-cart - over everybody - it was agreed that it must be so. Mr. Wopsle, indeed, wildly cried out "No!" with the feeble malice of a tired man; but, as he had no theory, and no coat on, he was unanimously set at nought - not to mention his smoking hard behind, as he stood with his back to the kitchen fire to draw the damp out: which was not calculated to inspire confidence.
Nevertheless, even at the risk of being Wopsle-ized, a man should not pander to the theory-hungry mob by presenting them with another theory to kick around in their theoretical arena. Let me seek present redemption then by writing the letter that I should have written twenty years ago:
Dear Madame X,
I don’t have a theory of race. I have some feelings about race, based on my intuitions about the nature of reality, but I do not have a theory on race. This might seem like splitting hairs but there is a crucial difference between theory and faith, at least the theory and faith I’m talking about. Modern man is trapped in a theoretical endgame. He has made an a priori decision that there is no world outside of his own mind. As a result of that decision modern man is blind. The physically blinded Gloucester sees reality clearly, in contrast to the morally blind Cornwall, because he sees the world
“feelingly.” When I step outside of the world of theory and see pre-modern European culture feelingly, I see in that culture a God of infinite mercy and compassion who sent His Son to suffer and die on a cross, only to rise again on the third day, all so we, His children, could see that “death but routs life into victory.”

In no other culture besides the European culture do I see that vision of the true God. If you tell me that other cultures could have produced that vision, my response is, “I don’t know if they could have produced such a vision; all I know is that they didn’t.” If you tell me that the sublime vision of the true God and true Man can, now that the Europeans have abandoned the vision, be maintained by another race of people, I reply, “They haven’t yet picked up the vision.” And finally, if you tell me that religious truth does not need to be embodied in a culture but can be passed on from one human mind to another human mind, I will tell you that, “God took flesh and dwelt among us because He knew that we needed to see the truth embodied; because we see life feelingly, not theoretically.”

And that, Madame X, is why I don’t have a theory about race. I have a love for the European people prior to their descent into the nether regions of theory. I don’t believe, as you say I do, that Europeans and only Europeans have souls. I do say that only the Europeans, as a people, produced a culture in which we see the face of Jesus Christ. Individuals from other cultures have certainly risen to the status of Christian, but they did so by adhering to the values and beliefs of the European. They became, like Gunga Din, “clear, white inside.” But if you had asked Gunga Din, prior to getting shot (“a bullet came an’ drilled the beggar clean”), he would not have recommended that the white should meld with the colored. “Then there would be no people from whom I could learn how to be clear, white inside.”
This concludes my letter to Madame X. I’m sure she would have been just as unconverted after my present letter as she was after my first, but at least I followed Edgar’s injunction to “speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.” The fight (in the full meaning of the word ‘fight,’ i.e., using temporal and spiritual weapons) for Christian Europe is the fight for the Faith. If the people who made Christ the center of their culture are rejected as evil racists and or stupid, then the Christian faith becomes evil and stupid. Behind the anti-European ranting of the New Age Christian rationalists is the dogmatic assertion that “Christ be not risen.”

Let’s put the modernist attack on the Faith in terms of a fable.

There is a land called Europia which contains white men and women who claim that God visited earth, suffered and died on a cross, and then rose from the dead. He did all of this to free mankind from the consequence of sin, which is death. In a myriad of ways, in their art, in the quiet consecrations to Him, made in their hearts, the Europians showed their love of, and their faith in, Him.

Bordering the nation of Europia was the country of Yet-To-Be. In that country existed colored people who could only be described as half-devil and half-child. Occasionally they made warlike raids on Europia. The raids were not successful because the Europians banded together to repulse the Yet-To-Be hordes.

But as time passed, a strange phenomenon occurred. Groups of Europians started to band together discussing theories about their God. One group with a theory begot another group with a theory, and soon Europia was filled with contending factions, all advancing their theories about God. But amidst all the theorizing, Europia was still Europia, and its citizens still believed in their God. They even made forays into Yet-To-Be Land and made settlements there.

Many years passed and the theorizing continued. No one knows the exact moment it happened, but there came a time when most Europians no longer believed in the old God of Europia. They now believed only in theory. In fact, the Europians claimed that there had never really been a God except in theory. And since all theories were of equal value, the Europians saw no reason not to let the Yet-To-Be citizens into their nation.

As more time elapsed, the Europians began to realize just how wrong they had been about God and about their treatment of Yet-To-Be citizens. Hence, they removed all the whites from Yet-To-Be land, renamed Europia ‘Utopia,’ and started to systemically eliminate all whites from the new-forged nation of Utopia. Some whites objected to being eliminated, but they objected not because they believed in the old God of the Europians, but because they claimed they were intellectually superior to the Utopians and the Yet-To-Bes. The Utopians rejected their claims and eliminated them.

I am only a chronicler, and I am a white male. As such, my opinion is not valid in Utopia. But I must say that Utopia is not working. One gets the sense among the lower strata of white people (by lower strata, I mean those outside the liberal elite) that there is an incredible longing in their hearts. Are they suppressing something in their blood that must, simply must, be satisfied lest they die of longing? Dare we say that the something is faith?

Wine and cheese parties and a plethora of Obama coronations seem to be enough to fill the void in the liberal’s soul. But will blood sports and porno keep the white grazers contented? We shall see. Satan is always true to his satanic nature, but his stance vis a vis the European changes according to the type of civilization the European maintains. When Europe was Christian, Satan was a radical, always fomenting change and chaos. But now that European civilization is satanic, Satan is a conservative. He used to prowl the world seeking the ruin of souls; now he prowls the world looking for individuals who might upset the satanic institutions of his kingdom of Satan on earth. He is always on the lookout for the man of vision, the man who still sees Christ on the cross and not a theory of atonement or a metaphor for suffering humanity. And when he sees such a man, the devil trembles and tries to get his minions to crush that man by whatever means necessary. Being unable to stand alone himself, the devil cannot conceive of a mortal man who will stand alone against him and his minions. But the devil has never been inspired by the cross of Christ. He has never experienced the ennobling power a man feels when he has joined his heart to His heart. Once the vision enters the blood, miracles occur. So it is always the last European, the man who has kept the vision of his Lord in his heart, who will stand firm while the men of color and the men of theory bend their knees to Satan and his surrogate rulers.

An entire people’s fidelity to one God made European civilization. One hero’s fidelity to the God of that ancient civilization can and shall be the beginning of a new birth of that ancient civilization. But the ethics of Fairy Land do demand that the hero must venture forth alone before he can receive God’s grace. Scott gets it right in “Harold the Dauntless.” When the Christian hero and the devil clash, the Hero always prevails:

Smoke roll’d above, fire flash’d around,
Darken’d the sky and shook the ground;
But not the artillery of hell,
The bickering lightning, nor the rock
Of turrets to the earthquake’s shock,
Could Harold’s courage quell.
Sternly the Dane his purpose kept,
And blows on blows resistless heap’d,
Till quail’d that Demon Form,
And—for his power to hurt or kill
Was bounded by a higher will—
Evanish’d in the storm.
Nor paused the Champion of the North,
But raised, and bore his Eivir forth,
From that wild scene of fiendish strife,
To light, to liberty, and life!


Friday, May 22, 2009

To Whom Shall We Bend the Knee?

“When hope seems nearly gone
God’s relief to us
Is surely won.”

The liberals were not satisfied with just one Obama coronation at the inauguration; they need to have a whole series of coronations in which they can genuflect to their god. The Notre Dame graduation was another Obama coronation. Such spectacles are helpful because a white European Christian, because he is a white European Christian, often tends to worry that he is being too harsh, too judgmental toward liberals. “Perhaps,” he says to himself, “I can win them over with gentle persuasion; it’s not necessary to treat them as enemies who are beyond the ken of humanity.” But when the Christian European sees the bedecked and begowned white liberals spitting on the cross of Christ by applauding a black barbarian baby killer, he knows that he dare not deal with liberals. They are beyond the ken by their own volition.

The liberals, and I include the neo-pagans in the ranks of the liberals, worship and respect only the species; they have no respect for the individual human personality. And this is because they have returned to the worship of impersonal nature. Nature is only concerned with the species, not with individual personalities. Christianity placed man in a world apart from nature, at the center of a universe governed not by nature’s laws but by the law of a God above nature. In Shakespeare’s play The Tempest, we get a glimpse of the spiritual reality behind the physical facade of the natural world. When Alonso sees how Prospero, through the power of his art, has made the entire island fall in line with the divine precept of “charity never faileth,” he declares that, “there is in this business more than nature.” The liberal has formed a different opinion. He feels no divine stirrings in his own heart and sees no spiritual dimension in his fellow man. His declaration is that “there is nothing more than nature.” It is best that we know this about the liberal. He will always side with the generic herd against individual human beings. When Pope John Liberal refused to condemn the murder, by blacks, of individual Christian women, he was being true to the liberal faith. The black herd is more important than a human being. When the liberals applaud a pro-choice politician, they are again being true to their faith. The rights of generic womanhood are more important than individual babies inside the womb.

The liberal doesn’t know why he hates white Christians of the old stock. If asked to explain his hatred, he would probably use such words as racist, fascist, and sexist to describe them. Racist because the white Christian does not worship the Negro, sexist because the white Christian does not revere Lady Macbeth and her feminist counterparts, and fascist because the white Christian does not believe God is a liberal democrat. But the real reason that liberals hate the European Christian is because the intransigent European of the old stock holds the belief that each individual soul is of “eternal moment”; that generic humanity is nothing when weighed in the balance against one distinct personality created in the image of God. “How can mankind progress?” the liberal asks, “if recalcitrant individuals, claiming to have immortal souls and obligations to a creator above nature, get in the way of the onward and upward march of humanity?” Christian eschatology separated from a belief in the risen Christ is a very dangerous force. The liberal’s answer to his own question about recalcitrant Europeans is “death.” The white man must be eliminated.

Melville likens souls in peril to drowning men in his novel Pierre:

“For in tremendous extremities human souls are like drowning men; well enough they know they are in peril; well enough they know the causes of that peril; nevertheless, the sea is the sea, and these drowning men do drown.”
Is this our fate? We know we are in peril, but can we do nothing to avoid the inevitable death sentence? No, it is not our fate. Melville went on to write Clarel: A Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land:

Then keep thy heart, though yet but ill-resigned --
Clarel, thy heart, the issues there but mind;
That like the crocus budding through the snow --
That like a swimmer rising from the deep --
That like a burning secret which doth go
Even from the bosom that would hoard and keep;
Emerge thou mayst from the last whelming sea,
And prove that death but routs life into victory.
The eyes of the existentialist cannot see past an ocean perishing, but what does the Christian European, who sees through the eyes of faith, see? He sees his Lord walking on water and bidding him rise and walk toward Him. Impossible? “We who are about to die demand a miracle.”

The non-liberal European of the 21st century sees a different world than the European of the 1950s. Christianity was no longer the faith of the majority of white people in the 1950s, but the Christian walls of the European fort were still in place because satanic consistency takes a little time. One by one the walls were removed. The first to be dismantled was the outermost wall, the wall of faith. Philosophical speculation made that wall unnecessary. And since philosophical speculation made a wall of faith superfluous, there was no need to keep up a wall between the races. “There is no one true faith distinct from other faiths, so there is no need for a wall between people and cultures.” And finally the innermost wall, the walls of the womb, were violated by the liberals. “Since each human being is not unique, it is the herd we must preserve, not the individual.”

The symbolic leader of the liberal herd is now The Obama. He seems to be a mere caricature of a human being, but then so do all non-Christian, non-Europeans seem. They have no substance; they are merely shadows. But the liberals need a man without substance for a leader because they have rejected the God of substance and His people.

In my late teens, I went to one of Satan’s universities. One course in particular stands out in my mind, a course in philosophy taught by a rather aggressive, secularized Jew. All the philosophers on the required reading list were militant atheists. Bertrand Russell was particularly loathsome, and I remember reacting strongly against him. He was so sure that no force of will, no sentimental invocation of a fairy tale god, could change the fact that man was alone in the universe and would turn to dust when his physical life on earth came to a close. I was a reluctant agnostic at the time, but Russell’s confident, conceited assertions stirred my blood. If I were mere dust, then why the divine longings? And why did I see something more than dust in friends and family? And what about Him? We can’t just dismiss Him.

My final push from agnosticism to the cross of Christ came when my philosophy teacher conducted a very aggressive assault on the “anthropomorphic” God of the Christians. If he had confined his criticisms to Christianity as an abstract system, or had he criticized Thomism or Calvinism or any of the other theological explanations of the Christ story, I might have remained in a religious limbo, but he went after Jesus. And that I could not abide. His attack on the divine personality of Christ put steel in my heart and killed my religious lethargy.

The great benefit of the Notre Dame coronation, in which Father Obama gave his blessing to his people, is that such a blasphemous attack on Christ can put steel into one’s heart. Such a people who would denounce Him for Obama must be resisted, must be fought with, must not be allowed to prevail.

When God speaks to Saint Paul on the road to Damascus, He does not say to him, “I am Christianity,” or “I am the force.” He says, “I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest.” The person of Christ! That is who the liberals want to keep out of their brave new world. And to insure that He stays out of their world, they must kill the memory of Christian Europe where His image shown so brightly. Because if the great unwashed, who have embraced liberalism because they know nothing else, could see the face of Christ they would turn from liberalism to Him.

There has been a great change in the liberals since the Obama coronation. They have taken off their masks. They no longer think it necessary to put a more pleasant face on Satanism. Is such confidence in the triumph of Satan warranted? Who rose from the dead? I don’t think it was Satan. Ah, but liberals don’t believe that Christ rose from the dead. But just as Christ burst from that dark tomb into the light, so will we, when hope seems nearly gone, witness the triumph of the cross. It’s the little internal battles we fight in His name that will make the difference. So long as the battle is fought, and the prayer is uttered, “In Jesus’ name,” the European will prevail over what seems to be an all-triumphant legion. The true European knows not seems.

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Friday, May 15, 2009

In Spite of Doom

The way is long, my children, long and rough –
The moors are dreary and the woods are dark;
But he that creeps from cradle on to grave,
Unskill’d save in the velvet course of fortune,
Hath missed the discipline of noble hearts.

-- Walter Scott

There is a point in Shakespeare’s play, King Lear, when Edgar, the faithful son of Gloucester, feels that he has nothing left to fear from existence because he has reached the lowest rung on the existential ladder. And he has good cause to think as he does. He has, in a few short days, gone from a princely state to that of an outcast and a beggar.
Yet better thus, and known to be contemn’d,
Than, still contemn’d and flatter’d, to be worst.
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear.
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!
The wretch that thou has blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts.
But then he sees his blind father, who, having had his eyes gouged out for loyalty to the King, is being led by an old man.
But who comes here?
My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.
Edgar then concludes:
O gods! Who is’t can say, “I am at the worst”?
I am worse than e’er I was.
With Edgar’s wise observation before us, we will refrain from saying that the white, Christian, European has reached the depths of Godforsakenness. Instead, we will claim he is worse, much worse, than e’er he was. And where was the European?

The answer might surprise you. For approximately 1300 years prior to the 20th century the European lived in a fairy land. In this land, beautiful and virtuous princesses were rescued from fire-breathing dragons by handsome, brave knights. Third dumb brothers who were full of the charity that never faileth became rulers of kingdoms, and the Crowned King of Fairy Land, Jesus Christ, reigned in the hearts of His subjects.

Now, it would be quite easy to refute my preposterous assertion that European man lived in Fairy Land for 1300 years. One need merely cite the external evidence. During the years I claim the European lived in Fairy Land, we see, when we look with the eye, the all-too-familiar sins: murder, adultery, lust, theft, etc., ad nauseum. What then is different about the European? Well, nothing is different, according to a certain theological school which claims there is the city of God, which consists of the Christian Church, and there is the city of man, in which sinful men endure their brief tenure on earth. But that theory was hatched before the fairy tale began. Are not we, as Christians, obligated to abandon theoretical truth when it conflicts with actual truth? And the actual truth is, if we look at the internal evidence that can be seen by looking through the eye, that the European Fairy Land did exist. In the souls of the Europeans something was born that never existed in any people before or since. A faith was born and came to fruition.

Someone from completely outside the European tradition can see the distinctiveness of the European culture, although he wouldn’t have any appreciation for it, and someone from within the European tradition can appreciate the distinctiveness of European culture. But those liberals who have retained the material comforts of European civilization while abandoning the ancient faith cannot see the Fairy Land at all.

God so loved the world that He gave us His only begotten Son. And that Son drank the cup to the dregs; He experienced everything that we experience, even the Godforsakenness of the world. But He overcame the Godforsakenness of the world through faith. And what the European tried to do was to build a civilization, despite the fact that the religious experts tell us there is no such thing as a Christian civilization, in which the feeling of Godforsakenness was transformed into faith. The European experience reads like a great religious novel. We see in the lives of ordinary Europeans and in the art of extraordinary Europeans the working of divine grace.

Now we come to the liberals. They no longer look at life through the eye. They see with the eye and they see only externals. Only the empirical, physical fact counts with them. They see no need to look for the Fairy Land behind the external world because they believe the external, natural world is all the world there is. And that world is Godforsaken. In fact, the liberals have institutionalized Godforsakenness, because a world founded on the a priori conviction that there is no personal God above nature is a closed world, devoid of God’s grace.

Of course the European Fairy Land existed in the hearts of individual Christian Europeans. Outwardly, it appeared that they were like unto other non-European human beings. But when one sees some outward manifestation of the vision contained in their hearts, one realizes that the difference between the European and the non-European was a difference between heaven and hell. (1) And I say between heaven and hell rather than between heaven and earth, because after the coming of Christ there is no possibility of an intermediate pagan civilization such as the Greek worshippers are always trying to institute.

A people that will not have Christ will have Satan. Liberaldom is a perfect example. What has been the end result of trying to find some kind of compromise god? We have Satan for a god, and he has bestowed his benediction on legalized abortion, the worship of the golden calf, and the worship of the colored races. Such is the modern world of liberaldom.

There are times in a Christian’s life when he feels an overwhelming sense of God’s presence. But there are times when a Christian feels forsaken by God. Like the Ancient Mariner, he laments:
O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely ‘twas, that god himself
Scarce seemed there to be.
In a Christian society there are so many unseen forces at work, primarily other Christian souls in union with Him, that come like “ministering angels” to aid the Christian in his hour of need. And the struggling Christian emerges, with the aid of often unseen and always unsung kindred Christian souls, from the dark night of the soul into the light of Christ’s love. But when so many human souls have said in their hearts that Christ be not risen, a Christian who still clings to the faith inevitably spends a good deal of his time battling his feeling of the Godforsakenness of the world. He starts to feel like Tirian in C. S. Lewis’s book, The Last Battle, who wonders why God’s grace is not working as it’s supposed to and as the old stories say it works:
He thought of other Kings who had lived and died in Narnia in old times and it seemed to him that none of them had ever been so unlucky as himself. He thought of his great-grandfather’s great-grandfather King Rilian who had been stolen away by a Witch when he was only a young prince and kept hidden for years in the dark caves beneath the land of the Northern Giants. But then it had all come right in the end, for two mysterious children had suddenly appeared from the land beyond the world’s end and had rescued him so that he came home to Narnia and had a long and prosperous reign. “It’s not like that with me,” said Tirian to himself. Then he went further back and thought about Rilian’s father, Caspian the Seafarer, whose wicked uncle King Miraz had tried to murder him and how Caspian fled away into the woods and lived among the Dwarfs. But that story too had all come right in the end: for Caspian also had been helped by children—only there were four of them that time—who came from somewhere beyond the world and fought a great battle and set him on his father’s throne. “But it was all long ago,” said Tirian to himself. “That sort of thing doesn’t happen now.” And then he remembered (for he had always been good at history when he was a boy) how those same four children who had helped Caspian had been in Narnia over a thousand years before; and it was then that they had done the most remarkable thing of all. For then they had defeated the terrible White Witch and ended the Hundred Years of Winter, and after that they had reigned (all four of them together) at Cair Paravel, till they were no longer children but great Kings and lovely Queens, and their reign had been the golden age of Narnia. And Aslan had come into that story a lot. He had come into all the other stories too, as Tirian now remembered. “Aslan—and children from another world,” thought Tirian. “They have always come in when things were at their worst. Oh, if only they could now.”
Yes, that’s it. If only we could say to ourselves – and believe it: “God’s grace can work for us like it did for those other Europeans.” I have before me one of those nationalist publications dating back to 1979. In one article the author confidently asserts that white people are waking up and are not going to tolerate the black invasion any longer. And still, some 29 years later white people have not stopped the black invasion. But what if white people were to open up those channels of grace that our ancestors used? Then slowly, but in countless unseen ways, the tide will begin to turn in America and throughout Europe. ‘All things are possible in Him and through Him’ was the motto of the European Fairy Land.

But we have to align ourselves with the ethics of Fairy Land if we would restore Christian Europe. In Fairy Land, which is the European’s land, a man’s whole life is a prayer to God. His political activity, his leisure activities are all forms of prayer. When the European broke with Fairy Land he left the integral prayer-filled life behind and became a dislocated man. You can’t pray to liberals to save you from liberalism. And that is what the white neo-pagan and the conservative constitutionalists have been doing for the past 40 years. Prayers such as, “Let me be part of liberaldom," do not receive divine sanction. The Christian European’s prayer is a different one: “Oh Lord, give us the strength and courage to restore Christian Europe.” God’s grace cannot be seen under a microscope, but it is the only remedy for European man. +

(1) If a man were to go back in time and observe William Shakespeare as he went about his day, I don’t think he would observe Shakespeare doing anything different from other human beings. But of course Shakespeare was different; he was extraordinarily different because of his heart and because of his vision. And that is the case with the Europeans who lived during the Fairy Tale Era of Europe. They might appear to be similar to the men and women of color if one simply observed them going about their daily lives, but if one looks into their hearts and sees life through their eyes, then, oh what a difference there is between one people and another.


Saturday, May 09, 2009

The Darkness of Liberalism

“You can’t have just a little bit of liberalism...” CWNY

That their enemies are “hate-filled” is a favorite axiom of the liberals, but in reality the essence of liberalism is hatred. No white Christian can hate like a liberal. And Herbert Butterfield tells us why this is so in his book, The Englishman and His History:
When he has failed, or when he is in difficulties, the liberal of the continental type too often has only one thing left—his moral indignation. At this point he does indeed pick up the doctrine of sin, but it is important to note that he wears it with a difference; for, as we have seen he does not commence with it, as the Christian tradition had always done—he drags it from under his sleeve at a later point in the argument. Concerning the sin, of course, he is (as somebody wisely said) “against it”: indeed he hates it, with the added frenzy of the partisan who has discovered here the totally unexpected obstacle. On this view of life the sinners are indeed fewer in number, but how much wickeder to make up for it! And none is so unforgiving to the transgressors as the person who does not believe in original sin. Here is a system which releases us from self-discipline, authorizing us to treat the political enemy as
subhuman, irredeemable. In consequence the good are engaged against the wicked in a more irretrievable warfare, where the makeshift of the ballot-box may itself become intolerable, and nothing is left but the resort to force.
I think Butterfield has described the inner dynamic of liberalism. Liberals always hate those who oppose them, because if you oppose them you are standing in the way of the perfection of mankind. (1) They don’t believe that all men are tainted with original sin; they only see sin in those who oppose liberalism. And there is no self-control in the liberal’s makeup; being without sin he needs no self-discipline. Like a spoiled devil child he can indulge his every whim. And his whim is that his enemies must be eliminated at all costs.

We know who the liberal’s enemies are. They are white Christians who believe in original sin and the rest of the Christian story. The escalating hatred of white people throughout the world is a direct consequence of the triumph of liberalism. Any white counter-attack, if it is to be successful, must be fought with an uncompromising faith in the whole Christian, European tradition and a clear understanding that liberals will never allow white Christians to live in liberaldom, hence a Christian European’s only defense is to destroy liberalism. But that is never seen as an option among the European people. Some group will emerge that doesn’t like one aspect of liberalism, and they will try to change that one thing, but they will retain the essence of liberalism, which is a hatred of the white, European, Christian tradition. The groups that just want a little bit of liberalism, the liberalism that suits their fancy, are in many ways more dangerous than the total liberal, because the half-way house liberals are more deceptive. You think they can be your allies, but in the end their hatred of the white European Christian is just as intense as their liberal cousins. Let’s look at two of the half-way house liberals.

1) The neo-pagans.
The neo-pagans are not the pagans of the stream, the field, and the hunt; they are not the pagans of old. If they were, a Christian could work with them. The old European pagans were willing to bend their knees to a God above the pagan gods, but the neo-pagans have no God. Most don’t seem to feel the need for one. Others write articles about the need for a new religion for the white man. That type of thinking typifies the neo-pagans, who have no ties to the white European tradition and no ties to reality. Can you make any claim of solidarity with white people if you reject Christianity? And can you be taken seriously as a man if you think religious faith can simply be manufactured to serve as a motivational tool for the advancement of the white gene pool? Reading the writings of the neo-pagans is similar to looking at a surreal painting; there is no trace in either of beauty or truth. I recently read a self-promotional ad in one of the neo-pagan’s publications; the author quoted Dostoyevsky’s assertion that only “beauty could save us.” But the neo-pagan neglected to say what Dostoyevsky considered beautiful. The Great Russian had one true love who combined, in His person, perfect beauty and complete truth: “... he passed through all the circles of human hell, one more terrible than the medieval hell of the Divine Comedy, and was not consumed in hell’s flame: his duca e maestro was not Virgil, but ‘the radiant image’ of the Christ, love for whom was the greatest love of his whole life.”

The more subtle of the neo-pagans include Christianity in the white man’s history. They use phrases like, “Our Celtic, Saxon, Germanic, Greco-Roman, Christian heritage.” But when you get past the clever phrasing you realize that the neo-pagan who talks about that kind of encyclopedic heritage thinks the European invented Christianity. To such a neo-pagan, Christianity is a reflection of the brilliant creativity of the European, but it is not true. The neo-pagan has already made the determination that the natural world is the only reality.

What does the neo-pagan look to as a substitute for God? He, like his liberal cousins whom he despises, looks to the future. In that world there will be no individuals, just an intellectually, biologically superior herd of white technocrats. The neo-pagan’s dream is the same dream as the liberals: they too look to a future where the herd has triumphed over the individual. The two groups simply differ over the preferred color of the herd, but they are united in their common hatred of the white, Christian European.

2) The half-way house Christian Rationalists.
The neo-pagan wants to sever Christianity from the white European in order to save the white European, and the half-way house Christian rationalist wants to sever the white European from Christianity in order to save Christianity. But the half-way house Christian, in his rejection of “European Christianity,” is really rejecting Christ. Let’s look at this rejection more closely.

St. Paul tells us that neither the Greeks nor the Jews rejected the idea of God. They simply rejected the notion that Christ was God. To the Greeks the idea of an incarnate God was foolish, and to the Jews the idea of a suffering servant who came to them via the humble things and the meek and mild people of the earth was blasphemous. And we see this twofold rejection of the incarnate God in the half-way house Christians’ rejection of white European culture. Do we need a historian from Mars to render an objective account of the European’s history? Why is the obvious fact that pre-20th century Europe was a result of a particular peoples’ love affair with Christ so difficult to see? And can the Christian faith be severed from those people and remain the Christian faith? I say no. A philosophical system can be passed from one mind to another mind. A scientific formula can be passed on from one scientist to another. But a faith? A faith is held in the heart and is passed on through the blood. Sever the white men from Christianity, and you have struck a blow at the heart of Christianity. It can survive as a bloodless philosophy or as a utopian, feel-good universalism, but it will no longer be the faith that men wrote hymns about and martyrs died for.

Again I refer to St. Paul. “Who shall separate us from the love of Jesus Christ?” he asked. The liberals say, “We shall!” And they mean it, because they hate with a hate that is inspired by Satan. Satan knows that if he kills the connecting link to God, the white man’s culture, he will separate mankind form God. The radical democrat, the neo-pagan, the half-way house Christian are in their liberalism all compact. They hate the white, Christian European, and will continue to hate him until they are converted or defeated.

Theoretically we all have homes, but the true, spiritual reality is that only a Christian European has a home he loves. The liberal, in his many guises, looks to the future when he will have his perfect home; then, he will love it. And the barbarian sees a home as something of merely external value, that one robs and plunders when it belongs to someone else and that a man uses until it becomes despoiled if it is his own. But here again he does not love his home. The Christian loves his home because He is there, and He has consecrated it with His love. The European home is the source of our strength and our faith. As the liberals’ hate intensifies around us, we will cling to our European home, and surely the love that we have for our home will prevail over the liberals’ hatred. +
(1) Robespierre was the quintessential liberal. He was an anti-capital punishment zealot who nevertheless ordered thousands of executions in order to build a perfect world where capital punishment was unnecessary.

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Saturday, May 02, 2009

Abide with Me

“When the philosophers abandon the metaphysical threshold, it falls to the poet to take upon himself the role of metaphysician: at such times it is poetry, not philosophy, that is revealed as the true ‘Daughter of Wonder’...” -- St.-John Perse

The United States government’s reaction to Mexican Swine Flu was, “We will not close off the borders.” That reaction is the exact opposite reaction of my neighbor: “We should close off the borders.” Why is there such a dichotomy? The dichotomy exists because the United States government is the official voice of Liberaldom. And in Liberaldom the death of individual white human beings is a consummation devoutly to be wished. The survival of the generic earth and generic humanity is the abstract good in which liberals believe. For this reason they will always be at odds with the Christian Everyman, who only respects, like his God, individual human beings.

The late Malcolm Muggeridge called liberalism a death wish. And it is, to a certain extent. The liberals wish for the death of individual white Christian Europeans, but they do not wish for their own deaths. Will the barbarians make the distinction between liberal and non-liberal white people? No, they will not, but the liberals think they will. The murder and torture of whites is taking place throughout liberaldom, and the white hierarchies of liberaldom rejoice at every murder. Nothing that happens to white people touches them.

The liberal’s death wish is a wish for thy death, not his own. In fact, the liberal fears death more than any man has ever feared death before. That is why he has built a world of abstractions where death can be abstracted out of existence. If there is no such thing as a God-Man, then there is no such thing as a divine element within human beings. In such a case then there are no individual personalities with unique individual souls. There is only humanity in the aggregate. And mere humanity, without a soul, can be anesthetized. If one does not fear the extinction of the personality, if one does not long for the touch of a vanished hand and the sound of a voice that is still when a loved one dies, then there is only one reason left to fear death: pain.

And this is why science and the liberal are so inseparable. To a Christian the pain of death is caused by the extinction of a personality. The pain is lessened and then conquered through faith in the redeemer: “Death, where is thy sting?” The liberal has extinguished faith and lost his sense of the uniqueness of individual human beings. All he wants from God is a pain-free death and then oblivion. In return for a painless death, he worships the God called 'Science.' And that scientific God shows signs and wonders, in contrast to the Christian God who refused to show even His own Son one sign or wonder as He was dying on the cross. But the Europeans needed no outward sign or wonder, because He was that sign and wonder. The men of Europe need no scientific magic talisman; we need only His sacred heart.

The antique European is tempest toss’d. He needs a safe harbor, some place to recover from the slings and arrows of Liberaldom. Then, having recovered, he can gird up his loins, shout ‘Claymore,’ and return to the battle. The poets of Europe know where the safe harbor is. It is in the human heart, connected to His heart.

Since “super Gnostic” liberalism has become the reigning philosophy in church and society, the Europeans with hearts that still live have been banished to the hinterlands. And the end result of the triumph of the Gnostics has been the end of charity. The initial wellspring of feeling comes from the heart, and that feeling tells us that the secret of existence is not locked in a secret scroll, but in the sacred heart of the God-Man. If man is cut off from that initial feeling or sentiment, he is cut off from God, the source of his being. No matter what philosophy he espouses or how clever and intelligent a man is, if he has severed his head from his heart his faith will be “as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal” because he has not charity. The desiccated brain alone cannot produce one infinitesimal impulse of charity from the soul of man.

The liberals have replaced the old faith in Christ with a new faith in science and abstract thought. We need to turn to the poets in order to see the old Europe that the liberal’s have forsaken, because in their works we see our true beginning and our end. The storytelling tradition of Europe is rooted in the marriage feast of Cana. At the feast, Christ, against the Gnostics, sanctified marriage and began his public mission by performing a miracle at a private and provincial party. The storytelling tradition of Europe is also joined, in spirit, to St. Paul and 1 Corinthians 13. All the great poets of Europe show us, in their visions, an image of Christ in His divinity and sacred humanity. Let me mention a few.

William Shakespeare
Shakespeare stands above all the other poets, not because of his rightly and often praised use of language, but because of his little credited and seldom lauded gentleness. At the heart of this magnificent poet is an unparalleled sympathy with human creatures that defies any rational explanation. From whence comes his incredible sympathy?

In one school where I taught, I showed some freshmen the Franco Zeffirelli version of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Although the play is not one of my favorite Shakespearean drama, I still felt, as I followed the words and action of the play, as the two apostles had felt when they supped with Christ at the village of Emmaus: “And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us while he talked with us by the way...” My heart burned within me because I felt connected, through the sympathetic art of William Shakespeare, with the Divine Heart. Must not He feel that way toward His creatures? Could such a Heart ever fail to keep the appointment at the hour of our death? Melville asked the question, “Sentry, are you there?” Shakespeare gives us the answer.

Of course, the summit of all Shakespeare’s art, and of all art, is Lear holding Cordelia in his arms. One sees and feels at that moment of the play, with a certainty that transcends the imperfect rational certainty of apologetics, why and how the tragedy of the Crucifixion could be turned into a happy love story. For one blazing moment we see through that dark glass and understand why charity is the greatest of these, and we understand why He and only He gives us the hope that the fell sergeant Death will not have the final word.

Walter Scott
All the institutions of modern Satania are geared to turn man away from the affective, loving approach to God. When faith becomes a mind game, Satan always wins. Walter Scott can put us back on the path, away from the Gnostics, to the Man of Sorrows. He eschews the path of the illuminati poets and theologians who seek to shed external light on man’s existence. Instead, Scott gets to the divine heart through human hearts. And at the heart of Europe, Scott tells us through his heroes and heroines, is Christ’s animating spirit. It is not a little thing to have placed charity at the center of one’s work.

C. S. Lewis
There is much that I find uninspiring in C. S. Lewis’s work. In a good deal of it I see too much of the English don and not enough of the man underneath the don’s mask, but still I admire the man immensely because he was an Oxford don who managed to throw off a good deal of his donnishness. Born with a propensity for the Gnostic heresy, he conquers it in his greatest work, The Chronicles of Narnia. In that work, he, like Shakespeare and Scott, eschews the cosmic approach to God. Building on the ‘least of these thy brethren,’ he brings us into His presence. With the marvelous image of the wardrobe that is the passage to Narnia, Lewis makes us feel as the great saints feel. We feel that there is no great dichotomy between this world and the next; they are both part of eternity which is sustained by a Personality. And our permanent place in that eternity rests on the personal assurances of Him.

Lewis had a mind that could have created a complicated system of esoteric formulas leading to the Promised Land. And he might have even thrown Christ, in a Chardinian fashion, somewhere into the mix. But he chose to stress the personal and the sentimental way, which places a personal God at the center rather than on the periphery of human experience. The religious Gnostic and the secular Gnostic will talk about humanity, but it is always the impersonal and the esoteric that they stress. Lewis walked among those Gnostics without being of them. Therein lies his greatness.

Much has been written of Lewis’s failure to convert to Catholicism. His Ulster, anti-Catholic background is usually cited as the reason. But a man who could conquer his extreme Gnostic tendencies could certainly have overcome the effects of an Ulster upbringing. I would suggest another reason: Lewis intuited a submission to Rome might have caused him to succumb to the Gnosticism against which he had been fighting all his life. The reigning philosophy in the Catholic Church during Lewis’s lifetime was Thomism. Lewis was a very sociable fellow; he naturally, had he become a Catholic, would have sought out the company of other Catholics. Excessive contact with the Thomists could well have plunged him into the despair that plagued Allen Tate and Evelyn Waugh after their conversions. I think Lewis worried more about getting things right with Him than he did about fitting in with one particular branch of the Church.

Walt Disney
I grew up with watered-down, liberal, American Christianity on Sundays and public school filth on weekdays. My only exposure to the essential Europe came from the Walt Disney films I saw at the local theater in the 1960s. My later conversion to genuine Christianity was greatly aided by what I learned about the workings of the human heart from that great storyteller, Mr. Walt Disney.

Let there be no doubt who was the heart and soul of the studio who gave us Snow White, Peter Pan, Fantasia, Dumbo, Pinocchio, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Treasure Island, Kidnapped, Darby O’Gill and the Little People, Zorro, Swiss Family Robinson, Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Goofy, and so on. Walt Disney was the heart and soul. He was the master storyteller who put it all together. Witness how quickly the studio deteriorated after Walt’s death. The men with the technical abilities were still there, but without Walt, the soul was gone. The Walt Disney Company is now a major force for race-mixing, degeneracy, and Gnosticism.

Walt Disney’s accomplishment was incredible. In an age when genuine human feeling was becoming extinct, Disney placed stories from the heart of the European tradition onto the screen. Which is why the anti-human highbrows in the liberal and the ‘just-the-facts’ conservative and traditionalist camps love to sneer at Disney. Disney knew they were sneering, but he persevered. He kept the faith in the fairy tale alive. And his faith was an organic faith. He didn’t think fairy tales were something to be studied and dissected, he thought they should be loved and lived.

Although I love the image of the pilgrims with lighted candles singing ‘Ave Maria’ and so many other marvelous images that Disney brought to the screen, Mickey Mouse stands out for me as Disney’s supreme creation. He is the ancient medieval knight, sallying forth against the forces of modernity. The outward costume has changed, but the chivalrous heart is still there. As the gallant tailor or as the mail pilot, Mickey goes forth, as Walt Disney did, against the forces of modernity, with only an intrepid heart and his faith in his Dulcinea, to sustain him.

Annette Funicello once told of her astonishment when she received a birthday present from Walt Disney when he was dying of cancer. There was no mention of his own health in the accompanying note, just a ‘Happy Birthday’ greeting for her.

Again, what did St. Paul say about charity: “Beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.” Disney’s vision came from his great heart. It is a vision in line with Lewis, Scott, Shakespeare, St. Paul, and Him. I love the man.

Dostoevsky’s vision is so wonderfully anti-Gnostic. He is centered on man’s heart and its connecting link to the divine Heart. His life-long battle against the cosmic and materialist ideologies that reduce individual men and women to insignificant atoms comes to a final conclusion in a classic confrontation between Ivan and Alyosha Karamazov.
“Rebellion? I wish you hadn’t used that word,” Ivan said feelingly. “I don’t believe it’s possible to live in rebellion, and I want to live! Tell me yourself—I challenge you: let’s assume that you were called upon to build the edifice of human destiny so that men would finally be happy and would find peace and tranquility. If you knew that, in order to attain this, you would have to torture just one single creature, let’s say the little girl who beat her chest so desperately in the outhouse, and that on her unavenged tears you could build that edifice, would you agree to do it? Tell me and don’t lie!”

“No, I would not,” Alyosha said softly.
The Swine Flu may or may not be a serious problem. If it is not there will be other plagues, in the form of viruses or of invading barbarians. White Europeans can expect no help from liberals against plagues or barbarians. I never recommend surrender, but while we are doing what we can against the slings and arrows of the liberals, it is comforting to be in union with antique Europeans such as the Rev. Henry Francis Lyte who believed in someone of this world, and above this world.
Abide with Me
Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide!
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me!

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me!

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dwell’st with Thy disciples, Lord--
Familiar, condescending, patient, free--
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me!

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing on Thy wings,
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea;
Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with me!

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile;
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee,
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me!

I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me!

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes,
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me. +

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