Without Glitter

I described earlier some of the similarities between Farmers and what for want of a better word —because unfortunately the woke mobs have somewhat reduced the term— I refer to as warriors.

There probably needs to be a short preamble on that word for later ease of understanding (and reference) so that those of you that become regular readers will gradually begin to “speak my language” as any good friends invariably end up doing when discussing philosophy and life; using even common words with a more specific and narrowly defined meaning.

So, then, here is my take on warriors as I see them.

Warriors: a definition

Warriors are NOT soldiers or police or generally speaking members of an organised army of a nation. Warriors can exist in those fields but are a rarity there and by (my) definition not part of such organisations by choice; precisely because soldiers, cops, etc. are merely the enforcing arm of politicians. A warrior has more of a functioning brain and code of ethics than to simply be a tool for some parasite to use for his own ends. Nevertheless, they can get drafted or occasionally end up in such places through one of the random paths life takes sometimes.

Warriors will tend to be far closer to old style hunters than soldiers. They may be professional fighters or private (freelance) security or mercenaries, but once again, generally not. You may find them working as bouncers, boxers, MMA enthusiasts, and so on, but they may also just be peaceful hikers that like hinting, weapons in general and want to simply be free to raise their families in peace.

Ultimately, a warrior will fight for principle over externally imposed “duty”. He will fight for those he loves and do so without hesitation but possibly care nothing for ideologies about this or that political side or even his supposed nation.

That last point though is a very recent development. A warrior did and should care about his nation. But Nations in the West have been destroyed, infiltrated, “diversified” and atomised, so people hardly even recognise them as such. Nations used to be relatives and people like you that thought and believed largely like you too, so it was natural to be willing to fight to protect them.

Having given the word “warrior” some “flesh”, I retune to the similarities and differences between them and farmers.

Farmers and Warriors

My friend came over again and we spent the last 8 hours non stop working on the farm. He on the tractor and me machete in hand. I am still recovering from a bout of weird sickness everyone else in our house had had but it hit me last, so I was not as efficient as I would have liked and had to work a couple or three of the hours in the shade. But despite feeling far from fit, neither nor my friend stopped for pretty much anything other than a drink of water.

He is the only other guy other than myself and my father, that I met, who has that kind of attitude towards work.

We talked little, only when clearing the radiator of dust or discussing a clearing area we wanted to create, and I noted how the farmer is just as patient, cautious and observant as the warrior/hunter, and just like them, the farmer will not hesitate to make a strong decision and run with it. The only appreciable difference I noticed is that the hunter is generally able to respond faster. Nature of the game, after all.

My friend has had all the same kind of experiences I had related to hunting, only they were related to farming.

At 13 he was tilling the earth with his dad’s tractor. At 13 I shot my first buffalo.

The other similarity I noticed is that neither type boasts. We can joke and play the fool or tease a silly man pretending to know more than he does. We may recount stories from our past, but at least half the time we are making fun of our own bad choices. But someone will almost never realise our level of competence at our talent, at least not unless they themselves become witnesses to the use of such talents.

Later in life, from our age on, we may discuss aspects of our knowledge in a general way, to share what we know with younger people, but it’s only by asking specifics that I find out what my farmer friend had to learn early on, or what kind of hardship he endured to learn it.

Neither of us had “easy” fathers, we were expected to use our reason and get things done regardless of our age. The whiny “but da-aaad” mentality simply does not exist in us and the first instinct we have when faced with a supposedly impossible problem or one requiring a supposed “expert” to solve, is to immediately try and figure out how to overcome the issue on our own terms.

My jury-rigging tends to be faster, his more durable. Working as a team there is a kind of synthesis that normally only appears between men that have worked together for years. But in our case it’s a bit like Russian Cosmonauts in Space; technically they have a ranked hierarchy, but practically, whoever knows more takes over the role of leader. It’s natural, does not require any talking and each one falls into the role of leader or attentive follower as required.

It really is a pleasure to work with the man, and despite our fathers having been pretty harsh, I think possibly the only other man that kind of synthesis of action worked with was my own father.

And today my boy came out to us of his own volition. He wanted me to have him ride the tractor with me again (I had done it a day or so earlier, barely able to walk still from my illness, but I has promised him I’d take him on it) and today after he rode the tractor with my friend and pulled a few levers and he was asked if he had fun he simply said a laconic: “Yup.”

Later when it was just the two of us he opened up more and told me he liked riding the tractor a lot.

He’d sat with me watching me cut a few things branches and clearing stuff and reorganising a water line and electric line to better accommodate where the chicken coop will go.

And that morning at breakfast with just us two, as all his sisters and mother were still in bed he told me how he loves our home and how school is boring when you have to go every day.

Just hold on a bit longer son. If I can manage it you’ll be home schooled and be able to learn far more than they would try and indoctrinate into you. I just need his Italian to become fluent first. And a few more parents on the same page as us.

It may be slow, but it’s coming together.

Others called my project the Kurganate and I went along with it since they had given me the nickname already anyway, but the reality is I don’t much care what it’s called. As long as we can build a strong community that is self-sufficient and capable of retaining its independence no matter what, and hopefully do so before ai drop dead of old age, it will be worth it.

If you’re not doing something along these lines then you have my prayers and sadness. This is just the start of what will need to be done to protect your freedom to be a human being and not some half-cyborged slave-class property of some Satanic Oligarch.

One of the last things I said to my friend today:

“It’s funny how your life and mine seem to be parallels of each other, yours in farming, mine in hunting.”

His reply:

“It’s a good combination. Both will be needed.”

I told him whatever we manage to grow on my land we will share so his family too can benefit. It is my land, bought and paid for and it will hopefully go to my children after I pass, but if my plan works, others will buy land and property near us with the same mindset and the same religion; and proper Catholicism will rise again.

The next few posts will expose what you can expect in the coming years. This is how you prepare.