We live in a time of quiet cataclysm.
All around us, the world is ending. We cannot hear it, because the television is too loud … or our earbuds drown the collapse of cultures … or we are preoccupied with scrolling through the messages on our phone. The old order whimpers and dies on our doorstep, unseen and unheard except for a faint sighing that could be nothing more than the wind in the trees.
Only the most sensitive can feel the tectonic plates shift beneath our feet, or sense the chill from the glaciers growing down the block.
It is always thus at the end of an age, at least until the sound of falling walls and the crashing cultures pound so insistently against our ears that we are forced to take notice — by which time it is too late, and the barbarians are in the street and the slaying has begun. In no time at all, the wolves and ravens are feeding on the rotting paradigms of a crumpled civilization and the survivors are too busy adjusting to the new world to reflect for long on what happened while they were watching the Superbowl.
These paragraphs are a call to those who will build the new world. Computer programmers and plumbers, school teachers and soldiers, thinkers and doers, fighters and lovers, blue collar, white collar, or no collar at all – it is a note blown on a war horn to those who are awake or who now stir from the narcolepsy induced by the poison of our degenerate world.
Above all it is a call to the People of the North, the people whose ancestral inheritance is from Europe. My voice is only to my own, and I can call no other. No other heart matches my words, no other mind grabs at my thoughts, no other soul moves with mine. Other people will hear other voices. The men and women of Africa and Asia will hear the call of their own kin. It is not right that I should give them direction and I wish them well. But to the men and women whose ancestors chased the glaciers of Europe, whose distant mothers and fathers were formed by the ice and the fog, by the mountains and plains of our homeland between the Atlantic and the Urals — to them I lift my speech.
Look around you, my friends and kin. Take your eyes from the glowing tube in the corner of your living room, put down your phone, and see and hear.
Control follows awareness. To survive and thrive, we must first know what we face.
Cultural Death
The culture of Western civilization is somewhere between “dying” and “dead.” Was it murder? Suicide? Wasting away from apathy? Was it crushed to a pulp by the runaway freight train of history? Or did Western culture just follow the trajectory described by the philosopher Oswald Spengler and die of old age? In any case, our civilization is flopping around on the ground, deep in its death throes, too far gone to even know that it is dying. Any decent system of medical triage would place it in the “Doomed – do not resuscitate” category. Let us review some of the symptoms that lead us to this grim prognosis:
We have declared war on our heroes. There was a time when we honored, idealized, and even idolized the great figures in our history. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, General Robert E. Lee, and Christopher Columbus were luminaries in our national firmament. Crockett, Bowie, Travis and the other men who died at the Alamo were compared to the three hundred Spartans who held the pass as Thermopylae. The mountain men, explorers, and pioneers who conquered the West were magnificent figures in our national imagination. Now, each and every one of these has been reviled as slave owners, or imperialists, or exploiters.
Was the old version a myth? Yes, in the sense that it was a somewhat sanitized version of events and personalities, held up to support a set of ideals larger than any of the individuals involved. But what has replaced the old myth is not truth, but a different myth, a politically-correct one, corrosive and vile in its agenda of deconstructing our civilization.
No culture that disgraces its founding heroes — thereby rejecting its founding myths — long survives. Nor should it, for it becomes loathsome and cowardly.
We murder our babies. Our unborn children are butchered, not because they are unhealthy or to save the lives of their mothers, but because children have become an inconvenience. We cut them from the womb so that women can have careers, so that young men can dodge the responsibilities of their deeds, so that we can have vacations in France or an new car. Abortionists have good salaries and community respect, while anti-abortion demonstrators are dismissed as “cranks” or “fanatics.”
Any society imbued with healthy instincts will go to great lengths to see that new life, unless it is horribly defective or endangers the life of the woman who bears it, is brought safely into the world. When we murder our babies, we murder ourselves.
Similarly, we have rejected, undermined, and debased the family. We were told the lies about “constructive divorce” and “alternative arrangements” and all the other garbage from the 1960’s that paraded as wisdom, and the ragged holes adorning the fabric of our families show our folly. As many marriages fail as succeed. Some young people, abused and wounded by this experiment in social irresponsibility, decide not to start families of their own. Childlessness has become a fashionable “option” — largely, it seems, in white and moderately well-off circles — among young people who do not want the financial burden of children, or who want to have their evenings free, or who would rather have pets. Perpetual adolescence, it seems, just doesn’t go well with offspring! All across America and the West, family lines are going extinct as spoiled men and women refuse to pass the life that their ancestors gave to them on to the next generation.
In the Classical civilization from which our own evolved, the death of a family line was a tragedy, even a crime. But long before that, we knew that it is good to have children, because the souls of heroes await rebirth. Today, we are much too sophisticated to believe in heroes, let alone souls, and so we lose a bit of our own souls day by day and year by year.
We have chosen material wealth over a richness of ideas and ideals. True education is practically dead in the West. Economic man has triumphed over both the man of ideals and the man of action. What passes for academe in the twilight of our civilization can be placed in one of two categories: In the one we have the self-perpetuating fruit of left-wing social agendas designed to give jobs to parasites — gay and lesbian studies, African-American studies, and various shades and guises for Marxism in all its infinite shades of pink and red. The other category is nothing more than glorified vocational training for the technicians needed to keep us from waking from the produce-and-consume trance.
No healthy society has a need for (nor will it tolerate!) an eternally-renewed class of leftist professional ideologues. Do we need technicians? Of course. But computer courses and managerial courses do not constitute an education unless vitalized by the sciences, by philosophy, by the arts. Utilitarian man is an oxymoron.
We deprive our people of liberty. America and Europe inherited a vital tradition of law, liberty, and limits on rulers from the Germanic and Celtic tribes that populated our homeland. Ancient Greece made a further contribution to the democratic ideal, and the Roman experience provided an object lesson in the glories of the freedom-loving Republic on the one hand and the repressive bureaucracy of the Empire on the other. In recent years, unfortunately, we have chosen to emulate the Empire rather than the Republic.
Across our land, the power of the State continues to intrude into the lives of once-free men and women. Politicians have learned that by pandering to minority demands they can be re-elected – and the lower classes have learned that they can take money and services from the rest of us by voting for the politicians and programs which promise such a transfer of wealth. The combination of corruption from above and greed from below is the death of a free society. We are increasingly bound about by laws and regulation; liberty has been organized, optimized, and managed out of existence. Privacy shrinks, “hate crimes” metamorphose imperceptibly into “thought crime.” We are all enemies of the State, only because the State has declared its right to overrule our ancient freedoms — especially for those of us who are white, heterosexual, and unapologetic.
We no longer believe in our rightness, or in our right to live. We listened when academe told us that all cultures are equal. In practice, of course, what these poisoners meant was that all cultures are equal except ours, which is patriarchal, racist, unjust, and founded on the exploitation of all other cultures. This is a lie, but that was perhaps to be expected because their goal was never truth, but rather the practice of cultural deconstruction. In the new interpretation, every American Indian is a wise, silent ecologist. Every African is a long-suffering saint. Every Asian is a martial artist and a philosopher. And all White are oppressors, whose very skin condemn them.
In most movies produced in the last decade or more, you can usually tell the villain by looking for the blond, blue-eyed male.
Somewhere between these fantasies there is the world of real men and real women, good and bad, wise and stupid. But we have been taught that our people, our way, our values are bad and others are good. Because we are a race prone to guilt, and too eager to be liked, we accept this interpretation – and await the death of our society because, after all, it is only fair.
We encourage weakness. With every generation, our children (and the adults they eventually become) grow more accustomed to luxury and softness. We have had too much, and had it too long. Could we survive without Starbucks? What would happen if someone took away our cell phones — not to mention something really important, like chocolate? What would we do without gasoline? Without television? Could our sensitive psyches stand the shock if food suddenly became scarce?
Suppose our successful minor executive is on his way home in his new Lexus. His triple mocha is in hand, Beethoven wafts from whatever device he is using, and his thoughts drift to his stock portfolio. Taking a wrong turn, he suddenly finds himself in a race riot. A brick crashes through his windshield, spraying designer coffee all over the fine leather seats. Blood stains his expensive shirt, and rough black hands open the door and pull him from his vehicle. What’s he going to do?
The pioneers that conquered this continent endured baking deserts, freezing snow drifts, roaring rivers, hostile Indians, sickness, hunger, and thirst. A lot of them died, but the ones that made it had proven their toughness. All the softness, all the weakness, was burned out of them by the rigors they faced. If we took a cross section of a thousand Americans today and subjected them to this sort of evolutionary stress, the winnowing would be ghastly.
We have become soft, a softness that smells of degeneracy, and we await the coming Wolf Age like lambs tied to a stake as bait for wild animals. Even now, we can smell the odor of the predator as he circles, in the woods.
Demographic Disaster
The culture of the West, as detailed in the above paragraphs, is terminally ill. Probably the most important side effect of our disease is impotence. We have turned out backs on life and life has turned its back on us. The White population hasn’t just stopped growing, it is plummeting out of control.
We believed them when the ecology gurus told us there was a population explosion. Dutifully, we as a society stopped having children. Dick and Jane had two children, or one, or even none at all and patted themselves on the back for their social conscience, for their “concern for a shrinking planet.” But we were had. We fell for the lie. While we were choosing careers, indulgence, or simply the feel-good sensations of political correctness, everyone else in the world was having the same number of children they had always produced – which is to say, lots. They are now expanding, and the West, made up of people of European heritage, is dying off. Even today, as white people disappear around the world, the death-lovers talk of a population explosion. So there is, in the Third World. But among people of the First World, there is no such phenomenon. Our problem is exactly the reverse.
During the lifetime of today’s college student, the number of people in America will double. That growth will consist entirely of immigrants and offspring of immigrants. Almost all those immigrants will come from Asia, Latin America, or Africa. European-descended people shrink to between fifteen percent and thirty percent of the population. Intermarriage will eat away at those of us who remain, and eventually there will be no living person on this continent who resembles you or I.
The Old World is faring even worse than the New. Of all the nations of Europe, only Albania is having more babies than burials. All the rest are imploding. At the present rate, Europe will lose one third of its White population by the year 2100. Some countries will do worse than others; Russia will shrink from its present 145 million souls to about 80 million by that year less than a century from now.
The peoples of Europe are drying up like puddles evaporating under the glare of a tropical sun. The United States, England, Ireland, Germany, Italy, Russia – emptying themselves of the people who for tens of thousands of years called these places home. Ireland without the Irish? Entirely possible. Germany without Germans? Only a matter of time. These and the rest, becoming fewer and older as an aging population loses the energy and vitality that once ruled the world.
But who will care for these senescent Europeans and graying Americans? Taxes must be paid, pension plans supported, baby food spooned into toothless mouths and bedpans emptied. Someone must pay for it all, and “someone” means people working at jobs and paying taxes. Where will they come from? Why, from the Third World, of course! Turkey has plenty of people, and they already have set down roots in Germany. Pakistan and Nigeria can shunt some tens or hundreds of millions of their teeming masses westward and northward to fill a depopulated England, Mexico is even now occupying what is at the moment the United States. France will reap the ultimate harvest for its North African colonial adventures as more tens of millions of Algerians and Moroccans land at Marseilles and work their way inexorably into the interior of the nation of Joan of Arc and Charles Martel (Not that anyone will recognize those names in a hundred years).
Do I exaggerate? Am I weaving a fantasy to scare the gullible, to titillate the excitable among my readers? No. Already the migrations have begun, but we have seen only the beginning trickle.
Nature, it is said, abhors a vacuum.
Across the Amur River in Siberia, China’s legendary numbers wait for Russia to fall back from the frozen vastness. They will sweep to the Urals, or beyond.
In Turkey, Europe’s ancient enemy waits for a chance to resume the tide of Muslim conquest.
North Africa knows that the destiny of Europe has already been decided on the overpopulated south shore of the Mediterranean.
Mexico, certain of settling old scores with the gringos to the north, watch as America becomes a brown nation.
Doubt if you will. Scoff if you must. But the runes are cast for the destruction of the West. The marginalization, decimation, and extinction of the people who created our civilization is, as historians measure time, only as blink away.
Climate Change and Resource Shortage
Gazing into the future, we have seen portents of catastrophe. What passes for Western culture in these opening years of the 21st century is hopelessly degenerate. It’s not going to get any better. Today’s social sewer will look pretty good compared to what’s coming right around the bend. To this poisonous brew, add a European-descended population that is zooming toward numerical insignificance and eventual extinction. Across the borders, however, hundreds of millions of Third Worlders wait for their chance to fatten on what is left of our decaying civilization. It reads like a science fiction script, but it’s not.
But there’s more! Combine population disparities, decadence, and the prospects of adverse climate change coupled with resource shortage and what to do you get? War, fought on many fronts around a globe hungry for oil, for food, and for living space.
Read the latest studies coming out of the Pentagon, or take a look at the articles filling the pages of the journals read by senior military officers, and you’ll see references to drastic and rapid climate change, lowered food production, wars fought over water, the use of mass migrations of peoples as a geopolitical weapon…the list goes on and on. Ask many prominent geologists what they think about the future of oil, and they’ll readily admit that new discoveries cannot indefinitely keep up with an exponentially-expanding demand. If the experts are right, tough times are just around the corner.
But despite all this, the point is not whether England is going to have creeping glaciers in twenty years, or if Turkey and its neighbors are going to fight over water. It’s not even as simple as the possibility, just now starting to creep through the public consciousness, that America’s transition from a Republic to an Empire might be driven by a need for Middle East oil. The essential point is this: We live at the end of an age. The cycle is turning, as it always has, and the future is uncertain. It’s not necessary to demand the intervention of famine, war, and pestilence, or a massive asteroid impact, or any of the other doomsday scenarios populating the airwaves on late-night radio; the impact of ideas can be as devastating as the impact of a rock from space.
Will the current status quo come crashing down in an Apocalypse, a global Gotterdammerung? Will it whistle away like air escaping from a balloon? Or will there be a whole series of stuttering pops and cracks, like corn popping in the microwave…or a thirty round magazine of high-power ammo?
Time will most certainly tell.
Cycles
Modern man, thanks largely to Christianity, suffers under the illusion that time is linear and that the events of history can be plotted out on a straight line. The Biblical perspective places one milestone after another, as far as one can see. The Creation ex nihilo, the Fall and the resulting exile from the Garden of Eden, the coming of Jesus, the battle of Armageddon, the New Jerusalem and the end of time – the whole list can be marked off as regularly as the timeline showing our own lives.
But that’s not the only way to think of time. The ancients knew that things run in cycles. We see them around us all the time, in the rising and setting of the sun, the turning of the seasons, the rise and fall of regimes and civilizations, and (in many traditional cultures) the wheel of reincarnations. In fact, straight lines seem to be the exception rather than the rule in our universe.
The Greeks named the Cycle of the Ages after, mostly, metals: Gold, Silver, Bronze, Heroic, and Iron. To the Hindus, the cycle was one of very long time periods called yugas – the Krita or Satya Yuga, Treta Yuga, Dvapara Yuga, and Kali Yuga. To the Norse poets, the turning of the great cosmic cycle was preceded by an “Axe Age, Sword Age – sundered are shields – Wind Age, Wolf Age ere the world crumbles.” In none of these systems is there an end of the world as such; there is a destruction followed by renewal and the cycle begins again.
The old order is ending, but a new one will be born from the ashes. We have the dubious distinction of being alive at the end of an age and the birth of a new one. No one knows if the new age will be born in fire and bloodshed, or if the only immolation will be a quieter one of ideas and cultures, along with the soft, muttering demise of the European peoples who gave birth to the West and without whom the West will most certainly not survive.
At this pivotal time in history, we must hold tightly to a concept from our ancestral lore: Nothing is fated, predestination is a myth, the deeds of humans do in fact matter in the larger scheme of things. We are not guaranteed triumph, but we are guaranteed the right to strive, to apply our strength and skill to the fluid situation around us. The runes of divination show tendencies, not absolutes, for we are beings with free will.
In the Nordic myth of Ragnarok, the Gods do not have the power to avert the end of the cycle — but they can determine the shape of the world rising from the destruction. Similarly, we who have loved the best that was the West may or may not be able to salvage the whole edifice that was our culture; the odds are mightily weighed against us. But we may, if we are strong and smart and tough, be able to save the essence — and to preserve the existence of our people — even as the world comes crashing down about us.
To secure that end, I fight.
The existence, and the well-being, of my people … is not negotiable.
