On Children

Yesterday we took them all to the park to run around for a few hours then we all went to a nice café that does food too and we ate all together.

I say ate all together but given our five children are best described as intelligently feral, it was probably more akin to bailing out water on a sinking old-style viking ship.

Allow me to paint a picturesque slice of blissful family life.

The 2 and 3 year olds immediately removed their shoes, which is just as well as they used the comfortable settee type armchairs as trampoline, climbing wall, leap of faith and dog kennel. No, we don’t have a dog. The seven year old was essentially emulating the 2 and 3 year olds but with shoes on. The 11 year old, bless her, was trying to help manage the chaos.

The wife was sitting on my lap until we managed to add a chair at which point the baby wanted feeding. My wife also wanted the salad dressing on the side and a non-menu item added to it. It’s like she still hasn’t understood Italy at all. It took 6 requests to eventually get what she wanted. Which was awesome and kind of the servers and the chef, because in Italy that Americanism of making an order “special” by asking for non-standard items usually gets you a blank stare and possibly a shoulder shrug.

The food arrives and the little one decides forks are an oppressive tool of the bourgeois. Her brother, the three year old, makes a valiant effort to show her that noble blood requires the use of eating implements. In fairness he only got the chocolate, from the pancakes with strawberries, on his face and arms, not all over his clothes too like she did. The seven year old decided her hamburger was not McDonald standard, being made of actual beef instead of rat off-cuts, and left it after one bite. Her mother ate it while waiting for her salad dressing on the side.

As I am looking for chains to bolt the three small ones to their chairs, finally the last babycino for the boy arrives. He interrupts his practicing for pillage and mayhem by picking up the tiny teaspoon, looking at me and saying:

“Daddy, is that foam?”

“Yes, son, it is.”

Remembering a conversation from 3 or 4 months ago when I explained that milk foam is not the sludge of some primordial ectoplasm, he gingerly uses the teaspoon to eat the foam one little spoonful at the time.

Fascinated, the cyclone of baby-wipes, squeals, and ship-to-ship armchair-to-armchair leaps, fades into the background as I watch him. He looks up when the foam is finished:

“Daddy, is this milk?”

He has always been suspicious.

“Yes, it is.”

He grabs the little handle on the espresso cup and again looks at me.

“Can I drink it like this?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

He very carefully drinks his warm milk from his little cup as if it were precious liquid gold. Good form too.

“That was nice, daddy.”

“I’m glad you liked it, son.”

And then the tornado starts again.

When he tries to run off throughout the restaurant, I grab him and tell him no, he says,

“But why?”

Very logically I might add.

“Look around. Do you see anyone else running around the restaurant?”

He looks around. “No.”

“There you go then. People come here to eat and be calm, it’s a restaurant, not a park.”

“Oh, ok.”

And to be fair, he didn’t try to run around the place again. Which stunned the crap out of me.

I couldn’t help thinking to myself: You mean the other 49 times I told you not to do that before in your life, you were just thinking dad’s a spoilsport asshole for no reason, eh?

In a tiny lull in the chaos I point out to my wife a small group of adults, childless friends enjoying a drink and I say smiling, “Look at that, poor bastards, sitting there with their friends, childless, trying to convince themselves they are happy.”

My wife knowingly nodded melancholically, thinking of late nights dancing, and partying, no doubt.

Later at home though, when they are all finally in bed and we are talking, she says:

“You know, I did look around in that place. And it was awful. Even the pretty couples, just sitting there, not even talking to each other. Looking at their phones.” She made a face as if a shiver was going down her spine at the very thought.

And it’s true. The worst day of running around chasing after one half-naked kid while another has an exploding event in her loose nappy and the third one is screaming around the house about stink bugs, beats the crap out of a nice day going to the cinema (when they still existed) with your girlfriend and a dinner after.

The entire premise of modern life is to have things as easy, effortless, simplified and standardised as possible. And that’s no way to live.

It’s like that old question, if you had the choice, between:

• living in a perfectly safe, very large compound, with no crime and you could order whatever food you like every week and do only ten hours of work a week, with unlimited access to films and books and sometimes also other entertainment, say a sport you can do up to twice a week and you even get regular sex with a beautiful person of the right sex for you three times a week, with visits of up to a further 6 hours a week (but no further sex than three times a week), or…

• Being outside of the giant compound, where you have to fend for yourself against wild animals, the elements, other wild humans like you and so on, you can have a few weapons and equipment to start but after that you’re on your own, which would you choose?

Most people, over 99% I estimate, will choose the compound with the regulated sex and free menus.

And their squalid little lives will mean absolutely nothing. Not even to themselves.

While those of us out there in the wastelands are the ones that will rebuild civilisation after your “utopia” collapses faster than your atrophied imagination can possibly guess.

Maybe, with a bit of luck, one of us might even remember that proper cappuccinos have foam on the top, and will figure out how to build a proper coffee machine.

I have had occasion to encounter “intelligence” operatives before, and the ones from the USA in particular truly do fit this level of stupidity.

It is glorious.

And in the early days of the internet, when the paid agents were trying to squash information about antigravitic engines, they used to get regularly stomped by shit-kickers on the internet. In fact they’d be exposed and routed so regularly that in the end they had to brute force the whole thing, by storming various IRC chats and flooding them with more operatives and shills than members, routinely attacking people who shared valid information, down to hacks on their computers that physically damaged hard drives, flooding the chats with porn and bot attacks and so on.

On a one on one battle of wits, these guys are simply outgunned.

Enjoy, and laugh. Laugh especially hard at this. It’s a healthy belly-laugh kind of thing and you should share it with everyone you know.

All hail Lucca and Niggerbrap!

Milo has been ranting for weeks now how Laura Loomer and Ali Akbar and Nick Fuentes are all finished, political hacks with no future in politics, relationships, or anything else. Mostly because gay and fake.

It’s as if he thinks somehow he’s still relevant or anyone takes notice of his gay spats, other than the gays involved and moi. Who does it because enemies of the church need to be exposed then ground into repenting dust.

Tell me, does this look like the level of commenting someone with 25.6k followers has?

No. No it does not. I follow an Italian Ex Military Police guy who talks about health and legal issues who has barely 7k followers, all in only Italian language and his posts have hundreds of comments.

Milo is a fat, dead, gay, fish, floating on the water.

Imagine being Milo. How tragic is his existence.

May he repent before his no-doubt early demise. People like him usually don’t last very long. A combination of the drugs, booze, homosexual lifestyle, and crushing existential loneliness invariably cuts their time on Earth somewhat short.

And being an exposed Freemason doesn’t help your longevity either.

Now that we know that no politician will save you. That no political movement will save you. That all the talking heads are literally gay, and fake. That the police will not only not save you but probably be your enemy. That the army will be like the police. That the rules and laws are applied selectively and asymmetrically to imprison you, impoverish you, and destroy your marriage, your family and steal your children, if you have them, and turn them into parodies of sexual lab rats. Or that will to its best to make you believe physical realities like your sex or skin colour or nationality or ethnicity are “fluid”. And ensure you absolutely do NOT believe in marriage, or even worse, having children, and above all to ensure you think God is an absurd fiction. Now that you know all that.

Now what?

What are you going to do?

Are you going to be a player character and take the risks on? Or will you be an NPC and let the events decide where or how you end up?

What’s that? You want a map? I have given plenty on this blog. I even wrote a whole RPG game to help train you in the skills of creating teams, face to face interactions, and role-play various scenarios. It’s more that the talking heads on the magic box will ever do for you.

But ultimately, if you use the information provided or not, is up to you.

Choose a path, or let it be chosen for you.

Occasionally even reddit has something worth noting.

Here is a summary that is well made, feom R/nextfuckinglevel

And the video of French protestors at Blackrock HQ is what was being commented on, which is here.

If, these protests actually materialise into something that can and will change the current puppet class of rulers, remains —in my opinion— a very unlikely event. Still, one can hope.

There are all those Catholic prophecies after all…

Western politics and Western politicians, are completely irrelevant. Even normies are starting to wake up to the reality that regardless of which thieving, lying, corrupt, fraud is in government, the agenda remains exactly the same and the politicians are just the puppet du-jour.

The people running that agenda are, without any question about it left, literal satanic pedophiles and their apparatus of lower order satanic pedophiles, trickling down to the puppets who range from satanic pedophiles themselves to merely abysmally corrupt, stupid and self-serving.

So we are left with a growing number of desperate so-called “influencers” wondering why their followers and popularity, despite being artificially funded and propped up with anything from bot-farms to actual paid shills, continues to plummet.

Milo is a case in point that can be used as a general barometer. His following continues to shrink even as he becomes more desperate and erratic.

Commentators on Gab may continue to post political views here and there, but the reality is that the Western political façade is finally collapsing.

And what will be left is a chaotic, desperate mess to varying degrees. Countries like Hungary or Serbia who are openly admitting they are being blackmailed by the US deep state pedophiles are likely to recover faster after the inevitable economic collapse.

Unfortunately, countries like Italy or France are going to suffer more, if for different reasons. The French are more than willing to replace Macron, and they probably will soon, but what the normies still have not fully accepted is that the entire political class is corrupt, from top to bottom. Without the equivalent of a Herculean effort of cleaning out stables nature, nothing will change. Whether fast or slow, if the current puppet class is not removed entirely, and replaced with some merit-based style of politics, the march to Hell will continue unabated.

Italians, unlike the French are far more passive on a national scale, but far more subversive on an individual level.

France is likely to burn or rise from its ashes monolithically. As will the UK, Australia and New Zealand. Italy is more likely to split into semi-autonomous regions, but the collapse for this will need to be pretty close to total.

The sad thing is that even African countries will (comparatively) be quicker off the mark and better off than the puppet European states, because they are already aligning with the multi-polar world order and decoupling from the petro-dollar.

I have never listen to political talking heads, and finally, a much larger part of the population than ever before is starting to realise why this is a good thing.

And may the ticket-taking, bought and paid for, gatekeeping influencers all starve in a ditch.

Wherein the President of Zambia simply states some facts concerning American “Democracy”.

Fact that the entire world already knows.

Everyone is sick of America. Including Americans. Is it so hard to stay in your own country, run it well and leave everyone else alone?

For America it seems to be impossible.

There are dozens of US military bases in Italy. Guess how many I need there to be to feel safe from invasion by literally anyone.

Zero.

There should be zero American bases in Italy.

Or anywhere else that is not America.

I know most American citizens agree with me. Sadly, the US (((Deep State))) couldn’t care less, and in fact, is diametrically opposed to that concept.

In general, revolutions throughout history have a couple of important things to keep in mind:

• They are almost never really grassroot things. Even when a shadowy hand with a yarmulke on its head is not fomenting the riots, directly or indirectly, people with various interests will do so. Being aware of who/why/how these people are and what they hope to achieve is paramount to try and ride and survive any eventual civilisational collapse.
• Absent a replacement governing body, things will descend to African levels of anarchy very, very fast. If you don’t believe me, as anyone that survived the Yugoslavian carpet bombing by Americans what happened to their very civilised neighbours as soon as it was every man for himself.

If you are aware of only those two points, then another two points become equally important:

• You must be as able as possible to defend yourself and your immediate family from violent raiders. Yes, Mad Max style.
• A community able to face this sort of thing as a community is both rare and not built in a day. There are two sub-points to this, which I have mentioned before:
  • Religion (real, not faked Churchianity)
  • Honour (real, not faked lip service)

Religion binds people of different mindset and this is pivotal. You need an absolute level of zealous nepotism, favouring local, zealous adherents of Sedevacantist Catholicism (in my case) over ideologically incompatible blood relations for you to have a chance. In the case of Catholicism, you have the added advantage that any fighting men will not be afraid of death, since it will simply bring them to their Lord (after purgatory).

Even then, men are weak, petty, cowardly, selfish, dishonest and unreliable. So… a man that has demonstrated that his word is his bond, and that principle with him is higher than even survival in certain situations, become far more worthwhile than gold or even weaponry. Such men are rare nowadays, almost an extinct race (by design) and even those that remain are still only human beings, but even so, try above all to find such men and have them live near you or you move to live near them. A community of 100 where you have 5 such men who act as the general leadership becomes almost impregnable if the remaining 95 are willing, able and generally coherent to within the bounds of what we might call, the average “good” man, but the religion here is key.

Building up such a community is the real work you should be involved in by now. If you’re not trying to become part of such a community, or trying to build one, you’re probably not going to fare well in the eventual economic collapse that’s coming.

Doing this NOW may seem absurdly paranoid to normies. And when they see it too it will be too late for them. Also, say I am wrong, and all becomes daisies and roses and unicorns galloping in fields of pristine forests… what have you lost?

There is literally no down side to doing this other than the short term pain/fear of the “unknown” to make the move and work hard to establish yourself over the next year or two. That’s it. And if you have the right mindset, it can be an interesting adventure instead of a fearful option take in a mild panic.

Build those city states, friends. Build them.