Write you idiot.
It’s quarter-past five o’clock in the morning in early October. It’s cold, for a change, and I’ve been forced into my dressing-gown for the first time this year. I’ve been neglecting writing absolutely awfully — and this week I’ve not kept to schedule for two reasons.
Firstly, I descended into a sort of loathesome state after my visit to London; it lasted for about a week (and is still ongoing, to a degree). I’m not sure totally what caused it — I think it was the atmosphere of the London Forum, and how much I felt I didn’t fit-in. I put so much energy into the whole affair, yet when it came time to punch, I missed my target and fell flat on my face because of it. A speech intended to be half an hour long was halved again, and although it went “well,” from a higher point of view my attendance wasn’t an achievement or a positive thing, meeting with my friends aside. I’d risen to such heights the days leading-up to it — going to church, praying consistently, remaining clean, etc. — and yet when it came to coming home the following Sunday after the talk, I was miserable and absolutely fatigued. I’d barely eaten a thing for three days, and barely slept as well — what’s more, my spirits had waned, and it was back into the depths again after several weeks of steady improvement.
Secondly, dust allergies hit me for, again, the first time in weeks two days ago. I’ll be well enough for the weekend when I’m meeting Mark and others, but it’s rendered me unable to produce content for a couple of days. One can’t focus when one’s sneezing every five seconds.
This evening has been alright, all things considered. I finally got around to transcribing the speech. I always hate listening back to myself — I’m too self-critical, and my speeches (all two of them) always have something wrong with them. It’s irritating to listen back and to hear when I’ve said “subjective” instead of “objective,” or to find that I trailed-off mid-sentence without completing a point — that’s the thing being a mediumistic speaker: your mind does one thing, your mouth another. Occasionally the latter follows the former, but sometimes the former can get ahead of the latter and it all gets confused. Perhaps it’ll be ironed-out with time — I hope so.
I haven’t written anything substantial for three weeks. I intended originally to write every week for West Coast Reactionaries — and I have, in truth, been busy (these past two days aside), with administrative work, videos, and all the rest.
One thing I’ve been trying to do is translate “Worldes Blis Ne Last No Throwe,” but sources for pre-existent translations are hard to come by, and the old English is closer to modern French, or even German in some cases, than it is to even middle English. Damn Normans. I’ll get there eventually, but it could take me some time to iron-out the details.
I keep experiencing pangs of nostalgia, now that it’s Autumn. Loneliness, too. I suppose the two are intertwined by this point; like brambles in snow, with blackberries — some mauve and ripe, others red and bitter — aglow like the flicker o’ candleflame upon the earthen hearth.
Getting back into the poetry, I see. Good.
It’s odd to get the gears moving again — I’ve been trying to write physically with a pen, but my hands are stiffening with age (it runs in the family) and it’s incredibly awkward. I’ve been trying to “concentrate without effort” at James’ suggestion, but I’ve been speaking rather than writing — there’s more a flow to it, instead of scratching-out black scars upon an unfortunate piece of paper. Words are but another form of symbols, so the magical element is still present, though reconfigured — context matters, too.
I can feel an old bone growing back beneath the skin on my left hand. I had an operation when I was — what was it; year five? — ten years old or so which removed a degree of bone from just at the base of my pseudothumb. It isn’t too uncomfortable yet, but when it becomes so I’ll have to seek treatment again. As if it wasn’t annoying enough: the radius only grows at one end but the mangled collection of hand bones sees fit to bother me. Excellent.
I don’t know whether to write in detail about my trip to London in a less obscure, more straightforward manner — I’ll talk about my speech once I get a copy to host on my channel (two weeks in waiting thus far…) — but the why of my disappointment with the whole affair… I cannot be bothered with all the questions that might be raised. Damn YouTube comments are getting annoying enough nowadays; it doesn’t help that my half-answers (due to laziness) raise more questions than answers. I don’t have the energy or patience for lots of people all at once.
I’ve been thinking about my “presence” and all. Should I have a F.A.Q.? It seems tasteless and egotistical. Same with showing my face. Same with plastering my opinions everywhere. I’d just like a secure life where I could get on with things and not be bothered with most people. “Bah humbug!” seems an appropriate cry. All the complications of this life tire and bore me; all the potentialities; my mind fills empty space and brings possibilities to the fore so far unconsidered — it’s a chore and it wears me out. It can’t help that it’s twenty-to six. I don’t even have any tea left. Five mugs a day doesn’t make it last.
Internet keeps cutting-out, too. Bastard.
Hey Adam, I wanted to ask you about something
About the tripartite theory of race, specifically the soul aspect, each race has a religion that it is compatible with, am I correct about that?
It’s not as clear-cut as “one religion per race,” more the idea that certain races are more predisposed to certain forms and patterns of religious understanding. Lines are blurred, not too defined, in most cases.
Okay, I was just going to ask about some confusion I had over something you had previously said. I think I heard you say that René Guénon converting to Islam was traitorous, but why can Arabs become Christians? Is it because of the historical aspect or would you oppose that too?
Guénon’s reasons for conversion are because of a lack of understanding about Christianity, not because he was born into Islam. The Coptic Christianity of the Middle-East is as such because it is particular to Middle-Eastern people. The same goes for Islam. Conversion is only justified as a fulfilment. Islam is not a fulfilment of Christianity; it is a replacement. We should practice the religion of our ancestors; conversion shouldn’t even be a possibility. I am an Englishman; that de facto means Christian, it cannot be anything but; Guénon was French, which means Christian; Ed is Hebrew, which means Jewish; etc..
I think I understand. Thank you.
Guénon’s conversion was traitorous to himself — that’s the important part. He might as a brahmana have been able to understand Islam from a esoteric perspective, but that doesn’t mean he was a Muslim. His hysterical “diving-into” Islam shows that it was a bizarre and chaotic move; his moving to Cairo, taking a Muslim wife, a Muslim name, having Muslim children — such a frantic submerging of oneself in the water doesn’t speak of reasoned and natural order. It’s as if he had to become another man to do it; he had to abandon himself, and become another. The same cannot be ran parallel, conversely, to Europe’s conversion to Christianity, which adopted and was built-around the pre-existing religiousity of Europe — Aquinas’ devotion to Aristotle exemplified this.
I don’t care for bickering — good people will do good things, bad people will do bad things.
So the Alt-Right shouldn’t worry about homosexuals in the movement?
It’s a red herring. For the same reason straight ≠ non-degenerate, gay ≠ degenerate, especially on the Right. Rightists tend to have a degree of self-discipline and moral character, generally-speaking. You and I should worry about our friends and ourselves; I don’t know anyone who’s morally corrupt, and if I did, I’d be scolding them and helping them to improve themselves. Bitching about the degenerate boogeyman is a waste of time and means nothing when it comes to action. Actions, of course, speak louder than words.
So, for instance, the Milo question. He’s a deplorable human being, and would be even if he was straight, hence I don’t support him, read his articles, etc.. If I had the means to do so, I’d beat him half to death, but I do not.
Ha! Great words. Milo cannot be accepted. Never.
Of course not. Someone like Greg, however, is quite different. According to everyone who knows him, he’s hard-working, intelligent, cultured and well-mannered. He’s gay and that isn’t going to change. But that doesn’t mean he’s fucking teenage boys at San Francisco drug parties.
He is, but I don’t think homosexuality should be accepted. I would accept him denouncing homosexuality, but he says that that’s a Jewish thing to do.
Ignore that, it’s just his ideological nonsense. Until proven otherwise, he’s alright in his actions and life, as the evidence thus far says.
IronMarch is sperging the fuck out over it.
Of course. Doesn’t matter — none of them have as much influence as Greg. Reminds me of people whining about Millennial Woes. It’s all just pointless drama.
What a shitshow. SeventhSon is banning tons of people on T.R.S. right now.
Young men can be bitchy on the internet. Ordinarily fights would sort it out, but you don’t get that online. And yup. Saw that. I think everyone should sort their differences physically — most of this is just posturing. These sorts of arguments, anyways. Some things can be talked-out; not this. There’s a thread on 8chan where everyone’s going nuts, too.
I suppose it all comes down to gathering a following. Too much activity on the internet.
These lads need to meet-up in person and fight it out. Honestly. That’s all this is.