Monday, April 23, 2018

Reality, Sanity and Survival

Cognitive dissonance produces psychological stress when and to the extent we're compelled to hold conflicting beliefs. The most common example is objectivity competing with faith. This stress has to be relieved. It's either reconcile or denial. And we practice a lot of both in the Current Year, rationalizing on one hand and looking the other way on the other.

Living in any culture will require some level of cognitive dissonance.

Religious mythology is the most obvious example of compelled belief conflicting with objective reality. Our post-Enlightenment secular-religious order up to the recent past imposed a relatively light load, with Christianity's revealed, non-falsifiable nature and stress on broad moral principle.
Believing in the Resurrection can be cast as the highest delusion, but it intrudes on nothing in the material present. Believing race doesn't exist, sex is fluid and women differ not at all from men are, let's just say, consequential.

Even a purely rational social order would impose dissonance on individual experience, experience being subjective. But in our present state the more objective the individual's perspective the greater the dissonance.

Political correctness requires commensurate levels of cognitive dissonance, imposed by shame, intimidation, impoverishment In European countries with hate speech laws it can be said to be imposed via the barrel of a gun.

But it isn't the dissonance, it's the lie from which it emanates, crackpot-theory rationalizing our deliberate displacement, condemning our past and precluding our future as plain white Americans. This is not about cognitive dissonance. Merely enduring a lie is one thing. When that lie is the means of your destruction...words fail. How did we allow this?

Resistance becomes a duty, then, to at least Do No Harm, and signal no false virtue. The sixties concept of "selling out"--whatever its validity then--has never been more useful than now. There is no sellout greater than selling out your ancestors and grandchildren at the same time. Working for Dow Chemical in the sixties is nothing as compared to working for present-day Disney.

Current Year cognitive dissonance is the sound of our gallows being built.

On the basis of no authority I suggest the only real relief from cognitive dissonance is abandoning the false belief for the true, and I don't think I need any authority to suggest it's at least the best, from an individual therapeutic standpoint. The recovery of a white political identity in the US becomes one and the same with the recovery of the individual white's mental health--with relief from the imposed psychosis that is political correctness.

In resistance, in transgressing an obvious injustice, the individual white reclaims at once some his own and some of his groups' psychological health. This is, dare I say it, spiritual.

Thursday, April 12, 2018


She watched soap operas compulsively, writing lists unintelligible; we never bothered to know. I reprise her, spinning notes to nowhere--writing them out and throwing them out over and over, just as she did.

On commercial breaks she would rise, sometimes quickly, and walk out of the room to mutter about the drama just suspended. I do something like that, wandering from room to room, occasionally muttering. After our mother died I heard her mention "mom" in such an occasion. She was born mildly retarded.

When she was very little a gust of wind lifted her off the ground, she was that slight, with her dress like a sail; the memory was a source of delight, retold with the same innocent enthusiasm with which she regarded a cat or a baby, the sort of enthusiasm of which only a child in her innocence is capable. Similarly deprived of guile, she retains that same childish enthusiasm, expressed just as it was when she too was a child.

She wasn't goofy; the impression I've had, biased but based, is that she was highly intelligent, but for the deprivation of oxygen in the womb or, we children did debate, a violent blow in a domestic row. She's still there in those small rooms, in the crater left by the blast, from which the rest of us scattered or succumbed.

Lifted her off the ground that gust of wind did.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

The Bland Inhibitor, 2018

Thou are right, O Lord, very right.
Thou hast condemned us justly.




"You won't mind?"




"That's absurd." I laughed. Alex grinned.

"No, not at all. Autonomous Virtuality is still churning through themes that precede its crude early stages as 'virtual reality', which it inherited from cinema, which was passed down from the written word: supernatural elements, time travel, conjuring of historical figures. I borrow some of these techniques. History and man provide the absurdity.






"The critique that had reformed society, liberalized its laws and economy, came to be a condemnation of it; the people of the West came to the conclusion their culture had been corrupt the whole time, and that it had sinned in coming to dominate the modern world it created.














Alex smiled.

"And there we should begin. Despite allying with them on a global level, at the time of my story the Church drew the attention of of some of these pre-Panic groups, militant but not yet violent. Among them a group of radical feminist women who interrupted worship or any gathering of the religious, staging stunts, usually of an obscene nature, in protest of the Church's continuing opposition to abortion and its suppression of women as they saw it."



Terrorism has been a concern for a while now, and the thick cord of people waiting in line to tour St Peter's is contained behind heavy fencing paralleling on one side the great curving colonnades that embrace the square, where groups of tourists mill about under the watchful eye of security, some in disguise.



"As more police arrive, three more women have ditched their tourist disguises. They too were chosen for youth and suppleness to draw more attention to their stunts, the modus operandi of this particular group. Their torsos were painted with anti-Church slogans. One wore a bra attached at the nipples with dildos on springs; they bobbed obscenely. She set upon a policeman and twirled them, in stripper fashion. He took her by the forearms and they grappled. Another wearing a headpiece with dildos curved into the shape of devil's horns seized him by the leg. Two more demonstrators rushed forward with a pink banner they intended to wrap about the obelisk; they were intercepted at its base, one becoming entangled in the banner as they struggled with police. The pink climber held her precarious vantage partway up the obelisk bravely as she started shouting slogans. But she could not be heard, as the still air was suddenly broken by gusts of wind.




"You know I'm definitely not." I protested.





"Not at all."


"I want to say He chose the moment randomly, but that raises an interesting philosophical question. I mean, to select a moment randomly is to select a moment you don't know. He, being omniscient, cannot not know something. And if he can't not know something then he's not omnipotent, is He? It's an interesting paradox. Can He suspend, say, his omnipotence? If anything whatsoever is in his power we must assume He can. But if he can even temporarily lay it aside, how can He be truly omnipotent? And if He did, doesn't he step down from divinity, and couldn't, say, Satan overcome Him in his suspended state?"

"Sounds like another story. But He did suspend, so to speak, his omnipotence, as the Son of Man. The Son of Man, the Son of God, is not God. He is not omnipotent in this state. That is the point. Isn't it the basis of your story?"


"Please, do." I said.


"This is really too much." I said.

"Bear with me." Alex smiled.

"They fell silent in His presence and cried out spontaneously in His wake. Their shouts were joyful and grievous at the same time, and of an intensity none of them could have before witnessed, much less experienced, before. Indeed, what human beings could have known an experience of this nature, much less degree? None of us. But the sound was instantly recognizable for what it was: genuine, unguarded, human. Into that world of artifice upon artifice, it came like a bolt from the sky.





"I doubt the people would allow that."



" 'You were expecting maybe the Pope?' He grinned. 'He wasn't expecting you, I can tell you that! His grin widened. 'None of us were. It is you, isn't it?' He said as he moved in and looked closer, his face momentarily grave. 'I'm Chief Investigator'--his name came out unintelligible--'here--' He cut himself off before finishing. He eyed the empty chair across the table from Him but remained where he was, thinking a moment. He held his hands out before him palms-up in an inquisitive posture and said:

" 'What can we do for you?' "


" 'Very well. What, then, can you do for us? Have you come to help or enlighten?' " He paused.
'For they are not the same thing, as you very well know. Have you come to free us?' He said with a trace of contempt as his reserve seemed to give and something like emotion flashed across his face. 'That boat has sailed. We've been free a long time. We are wearied. You've had a look at our freedom. What do you think of it? Is man happy in his freedom? Does it feed him, keep him warm, console him...?' he laughed spontaneously at this last, '...quite the opposite, as you know. Was that your intention? Whatever the case, it's done now. You cannot pull the rug out from under mankind now. It is too late. For two thousand years we have labored under this false, yes, god.

" 'Do you not see this notion of freedom, of free will, is at odds with that other malicious gift you gave us, truth? For freedom is false, and can have no relation to truth; they are almost opposites. You paired these mortal enemies together and flung them into the heart of man, where they claw and tear at each other as they destroy their host. What god does this? Is it any wonder man continually returns to the worldly shackles of tyrants? Of mysticism, cant, degeneracy? Would you condemn the powerful and cruel for freeing man from "freedom"?'




" 'Progress report, sir! We have been very busy, those I represent, in alliance with the good people of the Church. Just today we another two thousand needy souls into this land that used to be one and the same with your church; we pulled them right out of the ocean! Certainly you approve? I'm sorry a representative of the Church couldn't be present. They really wanted to meet you. But we didn't want there to be any misunderstandings.'

"Still there was no response from Him.




"He paused.






" 'Your appearance today has caused us little trouble. Already we're putting it to good use. We are spinning the story of the eccentric who appeared at the Vatican to our advantage. You're trending, my man! You have trended for so very long, but trends end.


"It was then He rose and approached his questioner. The Investigator not move but could not look Him directly in the eye. He kissed his lowered head. The Investigator turned and left the room, his hand over his mouth as if stifling his own words."

Alex sighed.


"You can't just leave it there." I protested.

to be continued, perhaps

Tuesday, April 10, 2018


"Of course there are virtually no public art collections containing tainted material remaining in the Free World."
"But it's still illegal for me to view them?"
"Of course. Prosecutions are rare, of course."
"Rare? Not nonexistent?" Herbert regretted his voice carried a hint of concern.
"Well, the Chinese are beginning to cooperate more and more with the International Convention on Hate Speech. Visitors to China have to register to view designated material, say at a museum show, and we're adding more every day."
"So the Chinese are reporting you?'
"No. Not yet at least. Obviously we don't have that kind of influence and can only ask. But the dampening effect of disallowing anonymity alone is remarkable. If someone isn't determined to see these things, views them as curiosities really, why's he going to document an illegal act that might land him in some UN hellhole prison somewhere? And that's most people."
"The Chinese have no problem with all this?"
"Like the ambassador."

"And people here keep getting into trouble for it. Like the ambassador. Why?"
"Yeah. They just can't help themselves." Genero said with slight admiration.
"I've heard of vast private collections."

Herbert perked up at this.
"Yes. That's my concern. Say a guy has, in the classic example, an old newspaper announcing the moon landing--"
Genero looked at him with sly sympathy.
"Well, if this friend of yours had only that, and just that, while he'd be in clear violation, it's not like they're going to come busting down his door. As long as it doesn't circulate, he's not going to get into trouble."
"But he could be arrested."
"Yes. Of course. Look what they got that last fellow for, what was he, chairman of the national bank or something? It was a stack of old pornographic magazines. It wasn't even political stuff, they were more in the line of curiosities."
"Aren't they all really?"
"No. No. There's still some very dangerous stuff in there. Even the sort of stuff in the chairman's collection, there were to be found political articles expounding the most dangerous ideas. Something of a political nature would be a stew of toxic expression."
Herbert regretted the intrigue in his voice.
Genero continued.
"They say everybody possessing any text is in violation."
"Any text older than sixty years, even the most banal. That's in there. But it it's not quite everything."
"And images?"
"That's an exaggeration. But it isn't such a bad thing. Everyone has something on them. Everyone has a stake in making things work--because everyone is on notice not to screw up or, worse, go over to the wreckers."
"What did he do, anyway?"
"The bank chairman."
"Who cares?"

Monday, April 09, 2018

Sliver of Poz

A friend I hadn't seen for a while related to me his recent experience with employer-mandated racial equity training. Eight hours of it, in fact. I asked him how they managed to fill the time.
"By repeating themselves over and over." He said. This was broken up by activities--for one, you sit in a group and answer loaded questions like "explain how you're enriched by diversity", etc.

They also showed cartoons:


My friend had recently abandoned the second-tier state school he was attending because of the ubiquity of political correctness and its fixation on denouncing white males and promoting transgenderism.
A lapsing SJW, he works for the sort of non-profit that foists this sort of thing on itself out of enthusiasm (and taxpayer subsidy) but says there's a push to make this training mandatory throughout the private sector.

That might not be such a bad thing. This guy is in the process of being rapidly deluded by a process of excess indoctrination. Cultural conditioning--television, film, music--works by drips of suggestion and disingenuous cues. It never has to present itself in full and it never has to defend itself.

But when it's brought out of subtext and to center stage for its big number, it's very hard for the good people who just want to get along to ignore the insanity of it. I think I'm a big proponent of this training, and the more exposed to it the better.

Faster, harder.

Wednesday, April 04, 2018

Come for the analysis, leave for the guitar

Richard Spencer debates Jay Dyer on God, religion and the right.

It isn't my intention to do these sorts of videos, but I did this at someone's suggestion. What I am going to do is livestream every Monday at 5 PM Pacific. If I can draw enough viewers in I'll try to bring in guests or a co-host.

Monday, April 02, 2018


I had intended on livestreaming at 5 PM today, but my employer has his own demands.
Tomorrow then, 5 PM Pacific, let's call it Tuesday Night Alt Right, at my YouTube channel.

Wahabbism is a Social Construct

Jeffrey Golberg interviews Saudi Arabian crown prince and ruler Mohammed bin Salman in the Atlantic
 The triangle of evil intersects the axis of evil at Iran, which appears to be the juncture of Israeli and Saudi Arabian interests. Where the prince places the Muslim Brotherhood and Sunni terrorists George W Bush placed Iraq as their state sponsor, ignoring at the time Saudi Arabia could far more easily be described as just that.

The thirty two year-old MbS, as he's known, appears to be out to modernize Saudi Arabia as rapidly as he can get away with, in conjunction with a grand plan to move beyond an oil economy called Vision 2030. Combined with an abandonment of the Palestinians and an all-but-open alliance with Israel against the Shia represented by Iran, he comes as if ready-made for the global order. Liberalizing Saudi Arabia is to be open for business.

And that's Saudi Arabia's business, of course, but when the West is filling up with young male Sunnis who aren't bound for glory in their new homes, I worry any terrorist campaign against his government will operate out of and engulf Europe.

The prince cites the 1979 Iranian Revolution as the birth of Islamic extremism. This is a recent theme, tracing the seizure of the Grand Mosque by similarly radicalized Sunnis and the subsequent conservative period in which Saudi Arabia remains, including its appeasement and sponsorship of radical Islam all back to today's enemy, Iran.

Israel, the US and Saudi Arabia are now allied against Iran, and we're the only one among our "axis" or "triangle" (of stupid?) that hasn't a discernible national interest in countering Iran, outside of our alliance with the other two.

Goldberg asks the prince about Saudi Arabia's support for Wahabbism and the same Sunni extremism he cites in his triangle, and the prince shows a distinctly Western facility for evasion-by-definition:
Goldberg: What do you mean you don’t know about it? 
MbS: What is Wahhabism? 
MbS: No one can define this Wahhabism. 
No drink of alcohol, no taste of bacon could Westernize him more than this mode of argument. The society of global bugmen have a Prince.