Young men (and women) think that when they come across a “Bible Zealot” or “hardcore Christian” which is what most would assume I am (they would be wrong because I am not a Bible alone moron and what passes for both “hardcore” and “christian” today is laughable) that talks about “hedonism”, we are imagining young people are on some orgiastic drunken revelry on the daily.
Allow me to correct that misguided view.
First of all I am GenX not a boomer so I neither resent nor hallucinate the situation of millennials and zoomers. In fact I mostly pity them, at least when they are not completely pathetic, in which case I am mostly frustrated by their lack of animus.
More importantly, I understand better than most that hedonism today is not really the orgies of the collapsing Roman empire. It is more a wasting of time while waiting and hoping against hope for “something better” to come along.
When you are raised with no understanding whatsoever of what Catholicism actually was and has always been and continues to be in those small number of families who still hold to it, you cannot help but go wrong in life.
The only sense of “the right way” I had in my upbringing was a code of honour that can best be defined —as John C. Wright did— as being that of the noble heathen. That is a man who keeps his word and does as his personal honour commands. It is a far cry from Catholicism and possibly the best level of civilisation that sort of way can aspire to is that of feudal Japan.
Possibly Imperial China too, but my understanding of Japanese codes of honour is superior (and closer) than the Chinese version of it. The Roman Empire too fas founded on it on arguably surpassed both Japanese and Chinese achievements, but in any case, no one can deny that all of those systems were far more brutal, uncharitable, and lacking in mercy and kindness when compared to Catholicism.
The point here is that absent the framework of what a good life actually is, meaning the proof of it, the reality of it you can see and verify for yourself, how is any young person to decide on how to best approach life?
If you DO know, things become a LOT simpler. But if you do not know, what a good life really means, you’re almost certain to get lost in all sorts of distractions.
I never saved really. I did buy some property (land) at age 26 after writing the first edition of the Face on Mars, and some 25 years later it helped me to sell it and put a deposit on a house in Italy. But as I had no intention to make any children (until I was 40 and gradually I had realised a lot of life’s “givens” were contemptible lies spread by boomers) I spent most of my time indulging those interests that caught my attention. And unbelievable as it may sound, the main one was a search for true love. Which resulted in much heartache and a lot of women. After a while it got so I sort of stopped believing in it but carried on enjoying the women. The rest of my time was filled with doing what I liked or interested me. Reading, martial arts, studying the human mind, ancient things and places, writing, visiting places I wanted to see… but always also that search for that one woman.
And eventually I found her.
But it was a very long, tortuous and far more painful and difficult road than it needed to be.
Had I been taught, and more importantly, shown, that family is the main point of life. Had my own family I was born into been less of a shitshow, how many years of distraction would I have saved. How much more could I have done and thus be leaving my children?
I don’t regret my life at all, because every part of it brought me to where I am now, married to the right woman finally and with enough children too. And if I had not taken this particular road I would not be with her or have the children I do, and as was very cleverly shown in a delightful film called About Time, that reality is inconceivable to me.
But the point is that if you are say in your twenties, or even thirties, (and yes, even 40s or 50s, I am living proof of this: It’s never too late) and you realise deeply that the main purpose of life is actually to create a family that is as happy and prosperous as you can make it, then, regardless of your actual situation, your priorities, your actions and your activities will be radically different than if you think having the latest iphone, knowing the latest political gossip, or cheering for this or that sports team, or traveling to see X place for the instagram cred, or getting another notch on your belt, matters at all.
And the kind of actions and activities that you will focus on will be such that, yes, perhaps you might have less “fun” (or time wasted on things that ultimately don’t matter, depending on your perspective) but you might also have a more concrete base from which to start that family.
Had I aimed to built something for the future starting in my early 20s, I would probably be able to live off rental income even with six kids by now. It’s also true that for my particular character that was never really going to be a likely road, so there is that to counter, I have always been too curious, and probably, as a good friend pointed out, too capable, to ever worry about the future, and indeed I am not especially worried about it now either, but it certainly is a lot harder than it could be.
Having a much harder life is not necessarily a bad thing. It makes you more capable in many ways (assuming you survive and overcome). But there is certainly something to be said for not having to work into your 80s. Probably anyway. Then again, I have Jean Parisot de Valette as a somewhat inspirational figure; and he was swinging his two-handed sword on the walls of one of the castles of Malta, wounded in a leg and not wearing his full armour at age 71, so… if you have that kind of character, what I can guarantee is that your life might indeed be very hard, but not boring. The issue however is not you, but your children, and while for some the idea of swinging a sword at muslim invaders’s heads in our seventies might be appealing (and for some of us possibly inevitable!) the fact is that if you’re instead leaving your children a few well-stocked and well-defended castles, and yet have also instructed them in the proper running of a city-state, you’d be far better off.
My children on the other hand will have to learn on the job, as it were, and perhaps that is as fate or God ordained. After all, we do have an 800 year known history of doing things this way; and while my branch of the family is indeed the silver one (that is filled with curious explorers and war-like adventurers, of minor noble rank) and not the gold branch that had the much higher nobility titles and actual castles to their name, it is also true that our side of the family has some truly extraordinary people in it; several of whom have been talked about in history books or left monuments with their name on it for a time.
But… if I had somehow a crystal ball at age 20 that told me I would have six children all under the age of 14 at age 55, aside the utter shock, I probably would have worked like a possessed man (as I tend to do most things) towards securing far more land and property and wealth than I have done. And even without the crystal ball, if I had simply thought creating a family was the main aim in life, I would have done so too.
Instead, the boomer poison of “the world is horrible, why would you want to bring more innocents into it?” Infected me well into my early 30s at the very least. And that is a lie that is directly related to someone not having any belief of any real substance in a Loving God.
Generic Zen-Agnosticism tinged with Shintoism is not exactly ideal for the consideration of family creation. And there hasn’t been as much need for wandering samurai, thankfully.
It took until the end of my 30s to realise that having children was the right way to live. And I am not unintelligent, which is demonstrated by the fact that I had come to this conclusion even though I was still essentially agnostic, and very much aware of how the levers of power on this planet work, which is not a position a person as objectively rational as I am is likely to come to without having a belief in God.
In fact I had come to this conclusion based only on the possibly irrational belief that my capabilities were enough to protect a child of mine even under such dystopic conditions as we have on this planet. Whether you think that is arrogance or confidence is debatable, but I am basically certain it would have been true if I limited myself to one or two children.
Adding the knowledge of a Loving God has removed a HUGE amount of the concern about having more children. And no, it does not mean miracles fall unceasing from the sky, the practicalities of feeding six children instead of two, as well as clothing them, educating them and so on are real, but you tend to find a way as you reorganise your priorities. And yes, maybe they will not all have the latest iphone and brand name clothing, but guess what: that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It makes them more imaginative and capable if they need to work for things, and if you are a decent parent you will also be able to help them get over a truly noxious aspect of modern life: caring excessively what other people think.
It’s a little different for girls than boys, but generally speaking, it is always best to err on the side of NOT caring what other people think than vice versa.
The emotional scars left by being overly concerned about other people’s opinions can be a truly devastating thing, particularly for girls, but boys too. Luckily my three youngest children already exhibit many traits that make me pretty secure in the view that this will not be an issue for them. If anything, the main worry might be to keep them from being arrested or chased out of towns for being possibly too cavalier about social rules in general!
All the people I knew at school that were from wealthy families, as a very frequent general trend, almost invariably tend to become what I would consider less accomplished human beings that even some of the absolute social rejects that everyone assumed would amount to nothing.
As a rule they tend to hold on to their wealth but be rather vacuous creatures with little to offer in terms of interesting personalities or life stories.
These apparent digressions, are not meandering, meaningless recollections and reflections of my life, they are intended to show you, and hopefully help you, see different aspects of life from different perspectives so that you might realise several things:
The nihilistic depressive narrative of the boomers is a lie.
The aimless apathy of the millennials or zoomers who are afflicted by it is weak, pathetic and unseemily for anyone with an ounce of self-respect.
The “hard” road may often be the better road, and even if not, at least you will have more cool stories and have seen a side of life the cocooned and perfumed princes of the planet will never know.
In short, the old adage is still mostly true: wounds heal, and chicks dig scars
All that said… it is only a foolish or imprudent man that does not plan (somewhat loosely, to allow for life’s inevitable detours) for the future. Especially when he envisions a numerous family in it.
Plan accordingly young man, and realise that hedonism might just be your indulgence in fancy clothes and package holidays, without a single Roman orgy in sight.
This is a story that I am sure most people will assume is made up, but I swear it happened exactly as written here, and I do have the wife as witness.
We are in the kitchen, she’s cooking and the little turtle, who is 2 going on 20 is hanging about. I was telling my wife that when I was busy building the pull-up bar for the kids alongside my own, and asked her to get the yellow level for me, which she had done also the previous day, as she came out with it she said:
“Daddy, do you also need the pencil?”
I was sure my wife had asked her, so I checked but the look on her face told me even before she confirmed it that she clearly had not.
The fact that a child who has just turned 2 figured all that out on her own is quite impressive. But as we are talking about her she starts to tell us about her “baby” that is in the bedroom (her doll she got for Christmas) and then, this happens:
LT: There is a baby in there (taps her mother’s bump)
Me: Yes there is. What should we call him?
LT: Bad baby?
Me: (making a disapproving face) no-o not bad baby… what name should we give him?
LT: Darth
I am not making that up. And all conversation ended due to laughter.
I have not had enough time to yet finish his second book, People of the Sea, but am a good 2/3 of the way through it and am genuinely fascinated by the man. Had I known of him earlier, while I still lived in England, I would probably have tried to meet him and have a conversation. Something now impossible as he left this Earth on 14 December 2021.
It is hard to know how I would have reacted to him in person. On the one hand I get the sense he was a man that had absolutely no doubts about his way of doing things, regardless of what anyone else thought, which I relate to very well, and he also seems to have been comfortable with the ocean, something that I, though not a sailor, always have been too. For me, mostly as a form of relaxing solitude. These are the sides of him I relate to. But on the other hand there are sides of him I am curious about. Not so much his rather hedonistic aspect of having multiple female lovers live and work together, though I am sure that fascinates many men.
The reality of that aspect is not one that fascinates me very much. I have had many lovers and at times some of these women knew of each other, but ultimately I am an intense person in a way I suspect is very different from how James was.
The ever-shifting dynamics of female emotions, and multiple females at that, tend to affect me perhaps more than they should, as my ability to sense the mood of others is elevated enough it invariably has some influence on me. Not in the sense that it diverts me from my chosen path, but rather in the sense that it acts as a kind of unpleasant background noise when it is in dissonance with my own rather calm and ever-forward looking natural state of being.
Two, three, or five women at a time in a confined space like a sailing catamaran could quickly devolve into a floating hell from which the only escape would be to tie the main anchor to your neck while seeking the blissful silence of death in the depths of the Ocean.
Probably too my own intensity in this regard would be at fault. I could never really be with a woman half-heartedly, even when the encounters were brief and temporary. After all, the whole point for me was to experience that person as deeply as I could in the moment, ephemeral or even inconsequential as it might be in the long term. And that tends to cause a reaction in the women too, and in the other women who inevitably end up in some kind of competition for such attention.
But in some way I sense this ability of James to juggle multiple women at once in a way that clearly was not superficial —at least from what I can gather from a book— since after all, he had children with at least two of them and long relationships with several, is tied —or at least related to— his ability to immerse himself also in customs of pacific islanders, and what he refers to as “Arts and Craft” types that helped him build various ships over the years.
Once again, the thought of spending weeks, months and years with random strangers of rather eccentric types and backgrounds —which I uncharitably think of as a kind of kumbaya unwashed hippies— sends a shiver up my spine.
None of this is a judgement on James Wharram, but rather merely a springboard on which I ponder my own character and try to compare it, to see what I might learn, if anything. For this reason I would genuinely have loved to spend some hours talking with him and getting a sense of him directly.
Whatever one might think of his character, there is absolutely no denying that he was a unique and uniquely talented individual. With a knack for meeting, attracting and becoming partnered with similarly uniquely talented women too.
I wonder at his ability to commune with groups of people from very different walks of life, because I too have this quality, but it seems to me, perhaps wrongly, he had a better ability to remain embroiled with them for longer periods and in more confined spaces. Something I doubt I could do for very extended periods of time.
It makes me wonder, at what abilities I may need to learn and gain proficiencies in, if I am, indeed, ultimately, to succeed at creating the greater Kurganate I have set out to do.
But then I also am pre-selecting the people I am interested in attracting because I have already determined they need to be 1958 Sedevacantists, preferably with a good understanding of the first Crusade and the Siege of Malta for their inspiration regarding being a good Catholic, for this to work.
There is also an undercurrent of the boomer years and zeitgeist that existed in the 1960s and 1970s and generic optimism of the 1980s that possibly made his unusual life both easier in certain ways and also harder in others, but that is pretty much as most men have it anyway.
What shines through most for me is the absence of the levels of bureaucracy, nickel and diming, permits and regulations, that he could mostly operate under.
Another aspect is the extreme bravery that perhaps is best described as the foolishness of youth that later matures into courage that was exhibited by all his lifelong female companions. As well as the fact that all of them, James included, absolutely give me the certain impression of essentially being good, open, friendly and reliable people.
Human beings are all nasty, brutish, weak, selfish beasts, even the best of us, but between our flaws and weaknesses and fears and egos, there are genuine moments of light and joy and love and bravery and goodness that simply reveal also the spark of the divine in us. And I have the absolute sense that James Wharram and “his women” all would have been people I could see that aspect of humanity in them that makes us redeemable.
I see and recognise his quasi-pagan ways in my own attitude for most of my life before my conversion experience to Crusader style pre-Vatican II Catholicism, a conversion I would have ridiculed as impossible even one day before the 3rd of March 2013.
And I wonder how I might have seen his views in say 2020 when I was already a baptised Catholic and he was still alive and I imagine from his writing at least, in possession of all his faculties.
Again, not as a judgment on him, but rather a perspective on me.
It makes me wonder… what if I had managed to get my yacht in my early 20s and started sailing and lived a life close to what he did?
And I am reminded of a time when I was 19 I think, and went for a week to Durban to do a sailing course. I slept on the boat to save money, which was an option, enjoyed the skipper, who was a grizzled old man that took the usual “liking” to me that men who are men in their own right often took with me when they were older, which is to say, be impressed by my ability (I was the only one who did not take motion sickness medication who managed to keep his lunch in his stomach, and that only by watching what the skipper did, which was to let the waves move him instead of fight them) and at the same time get frustrated by my overreaching. In the exercise on rescuing a man fallen overboard, I got the shortest time… but I did so by arriving at the lifesaver that had been cast overboard at such speed that even when the sail was dropped and the boat came right up to the lifesaver so it could be plucked out by hand without even needing the pole to hook it, the skipper blew up at me.
Doing that manoeuvre that way in a storm was likely to crush the man overboard’s skull if the waves and the boat’s speed and sudden stop did not align perfectly. But we weren’t in a storm. And it was a lifesaver doughnut, not a living person. And I did the best time. But I kept quiet. He was the skipper and he was trying to educate me. And I had had various injuries and my nose broken by various karate instructors, on whom I inspired similar sentiments. As the Japanese say:
“The nail that sticks out gets hammered.”
I enjoyed the week of sailing and I had taken that course because I wanted to learn to skipper in preparation for eventually finding a way to get a yacht and be free of most of the rest of the world.
But there were two events I still recall from that week. One was a film I went to see one evening, about the dictatorship in Chile, with Jeremy Irons and a beautiful young woman who is raped then killed by some random soldier. It was, I recognise now, propaganda designed to make Pinochet “the bad guy” when in effect he probably saved millions of Chileans from utter misery and death.
The other was an encounter at a local pub I went to on another evening, that being in a port was frequented by sailors. I struck up a conversation with a Frenchman, and he told me about his boat and how it didn’t take much money to do what I wanted to do. He had bought a boat in pretty bad “used” condition and worked on it for a year or so to get it ship shape. I don’t recall the exact type of boat, it wasn’t very big, but had two masts, he had travelled the world with it, and a woman, for eight years. Then, a couple of months earlier, the woman had enough, and left him. Somewhere in India I think, to fly back home to France and I suppose her family. He was still clearly distraught. As he drank another beer, to my then teetotaller juice or water, or whatever it was, he gradually became more melancholic and sad.
I still think about that Frenchman on rare occasions, and hope he found peace somewhere with someone.
But it also made me wonder. What would a life aboard be like? Yes I wanted freedom, from rules, people and humans in general, and considering I grew up mostly wild in rural areas around the world, it might give you an indication of just how misanthropic I am, and how much I enjoy the “authority” of people dumber, slower, and less accomplished as human beings in every way than I am, which basically means pretty much all governments on our planet currently, and absolutely and totally with respect to the pedovores that run them.
The life of endless adventure is one some men aspire to and can live. I know I have that in me and my own life is pretty much testament to it. But it is not that I was alone so much because I necessarily enjoyed it, as my mother had once assumed at around that time (but then it was obvious to me from age 2 onward that woman had and has never understood the remotest part of me or how I function). I spent a lot of time alone because the alternative was to spend it surrounded by idiots.
I know that sounds unkind, but it really was the case. Imagine, if you will, that your options in life was to retreat in a life mostly of solitude, or be perennially surrounded by mongoloids. As well-meaning and harmless as they might be, try to imagine how it would be to have them constantly around doing mongoloid things and talking mongoloid talks and discussing things on their mongoloid level.
And yes, again, I know how arrogant it sounds to probably most of you reading, but with an IQ that averaged at 155, the distance between me and the nominally average person of 100 IQ is greater than the one of the average person and a 65 IQ mentally handicapped person by a whole standard deviation.
I didn’t know or care about IQ then, but the distance in mental ability, interests, and so on was simply unavoidable. Part of the idea of sailing the seven seas was that in doing so I might meet and learn from cool people in far away lands and maybe even end up with that hot girl that would look really awesome in a swimming costume in some Caribbean island setting.
But the Frenchman made me think.
The lure of adventure for a man is natural, but for a woman… eventually their purpose in nature is to make children, and even if I found one willing and able to give birth at sea and homeschool them on the boat as we travelled the world… was that the kind of father I saw myself as?
It’s not that it would be a bad childhood for my children, or even unhappy for the woman; but…
what… ultimately… would be the point of such a life? How many ports and cultures and miles and miles and miles of ocean can you sail before it all starts to seem aimless?
I used to play Traveller a lot as a teenager, and even now, the idea of having a spaceship you can use to go explore weird new worlds and trade with alien species is something I would immediately say yes to. And I know every one of my children except possibly my eldest would too. And my wife. She probably would come along because the kids would convince her, but she likely would have a nervous breakdown.
The idea of a yacht was a kind of analogy for that.
Sail away. Meet new people, possibly frolic with hot exotic women, even if they didn’t have blue skin and came from another planet. That was the general idea. But then what?
I have in any case travelled a lot and met many different people and cultures; and spent enough time with many different women too. And yet, my perspective on this from when I was age 19 was still correct. I am glad I did it as otherwise I would have remained unsatisfied in the wondering of it, but my life was never about the travelling per se. That was just incidental. I went where my curious heart led me. That’s all.
So, the life of James Wharram seems to me to be almost a window into what one of my possible lives could have been. It is interesting to look through that window and think about it. But my sense of it, which I am sure is only because I am on this side of the window, is that such a life would have been just that much lonelier. Perhaps not by much, but by enough to probably be a bit more than I would have liked.
And I wonder what James would tell me if he were still here, sitting across from me with whatever his drink of choice might have been, be it an English tea or something else.
I suspect he might tell me that he was one of the most free and least lonely men that ever lived, having the love and companionship of multiple women simultaneously and adventure rarely had by anyone today alive. And I would keep quiet and listen.
And while imagining and pondering, I nevertheless do not envy nor begrudge the man anything. Because I think it is a trait of at least some men, of which I am one, that they do not experience such emotions. They are emotions that are the children of ambitions and lives unfulfilled and failures to launch. I have failed many times at many things. And I have not yet achieved but a fraction of what I want to, and honestly, unless dementia takes me, it is utterly impossible I ever will achieve even a quarter of what I would like to do, given infinite money and other resources. But the point is I have never stood still and stagnated. Sometimes I struggle in quicksand for a while, but eventually I drag myself out of it and carry on at my usual speed again. Besides, which adventuring hero of pulp fiction does not have a regular close call with quicksand?
So I read and think about James Wharram and his life and am glad for him and his having written it down. And of course for Hanneke Boon and Ruth and the other women and friends of his that made his story possible.
Wherever you may be James, I hope you have tropical waters and fair winds.
Vox put up a good post on Putin’s Presidential Q&A. It’s worth reading because it is useful to drive points that should be obvious by now home.
Nothing that is in Vox’s post is news to me, nor has it been for a long time, in fact, far linger than I have known Vox. But his post certainly helped to bring into sharp focus for me something that I have been in essence writing about in one way or another for decades, and it is this: the big picture of things really is quite simple.
There are events from my life that stuck out and are remembered sharply even fifty years later. Many are related to shocking or unusual events but a few are rooted in the very reality we inhabit on this planet. Specifically, I recall how since the age of four to about seven, I tried repeatedly to make sense of the concept of money, and how as a child I simply could not make sense of it at all.
The whole thing seemed absurd and fake to me, and although I eventually did what everyone else does, except I did it at about age seven: give up and assume it must be too complicated for me to grasp. But the truth is precisely the opposite.
The whole concept of fiat money is absurd. It is literally invented out of thin air (and sustained by literally nothing) by a bunch of predatory, and largely also child raping perverts, to enslave humanity. And yes, I know that sounds “unhinged” —especially if you working finance yourself, right? And yet… anyone who takes the time to look into it knows I am simply stating an undeniable fact.
Fiat money has no bearing on logic, reason, justice or fairness of any kind. It is an entirely vicious, evil, and predatory controlling mechanism that we have all somehow been fooled, cajoled, ultimately forces into accepting as “the way things are”, as if it was as normal as needing to drink water and breathe air to live. But it is a complete fiction and absolutely not required to exist at all for anything we have now and indeed more and better things to exist too.
Even without getting into other esoteric concepts for which a blog post is not the place, if we just shifted to a gold standard again, it would be a major improvement.
Which is why anyone who tried it in living memory ends up having their entire country “liberated” by USA carpet bombing, colour revolutions and the death of the guy proposing it as a vicious dictator.
We could even improve on the gold standard too, with my fractionating value of gold concept, which could be related to a generic global population index adjusted yearly. This means the value of gold would fluctuate yearly on the basis of the overall global population. More people and each fraction of gold becomes more valuable. Leas people and it drops in value.
The idea being that the total amount of gold on the planet is eventually finite, and you could say that each human being could on average use say 10 million dollars of value over a lifetime, and if we assume a total of 8 billion people, that would mean the total value of the gold on Earth needs to be 10,000,000 x 8,000,000,000 = 80 quadrillion dollars. The total amount of gold currently mined and excavated on Earth is approximately 200,000 tons, so each gram of gold should have a value of 400,000 dollars. Sounds like a lot? Not really. Many people use up a lot more than 10 million dollars in their lives. And you can always fractionate the gold. So you have various gold deposits (some “banks” that is really a central fort knox type place with extreme security but also total transparency – think live cameras and open book accounting online globally) that stores people’s or even governments gold, and issues digital currency that is measured in micrograms (one microgram would be worth 40 cents in this example).
At any time a person can go to one of the “banks” (really just holding secure places that have no other function) and retrieve whatever weight of gold they are able to (say a minimum of a gram for ease of things). More importantly, anyone has the right to verify each “bank” really has exactly the amount of gold they are issuing digital currency for on each customer’s behalf.
Such a system would also have to instantly do away with usury, which is the favourite weapon of the parasites feeding on the rest of the human race currently.
Anyway…
You see how my thought about money as a four to seven year old was in fact correct, and how with another 20 years or so of life experience, one could easily describe a system that is simple to understand, fair, and would absolutely work.
Yes, I came up with this system by age 26. I never published it officially as I figured doing so at the time in any meaningfully public way might be unhealthy. After all, I am from the generation that saw what happened to the guy who posted the original essay titled Assassination Politics.
And that’s the thing. If you are just able to ignore the lies and reason things out for yourself, all the big political and economic “issues” are childishly simple to understand and correct.
They might be extremely difficult to put in practice, but not because of any intrinsic difficulty beyond the fact that the current pedovores in charge would absolutely murder you and whole nations to prevent so much as the ideas, never mind the implementations of these things.
The other thing that struck me as a seven year old was the concept of indeed free trade and specifically import/export of goods. I still recall out elementary school teacher explaining how export goods were the top quality that we would send out and we would keep the second grade stuff. That didn’t make any sense to me either. Surely if you have an excess of something that other people need you keep the best stuff for YOUR people and send out the next best thing. After all… if the other guys don’t have enough of it they can hardly complain can they?
And by the time I was old enough to know what GDP stood for, I knew that the entire system of economics and accounting was basically the purview of conmen and idiots and idiot-conmen. I briefly took an economics class for university and dropped it after a scant month when it became equally obvious that all accounting is, is a way to mask fraud, theft, lies and deceit. Sure, some people that work in that field are actually honest, I know, I worked in a closely related aspect of it for decades and still do, but the various practices of accounting, while mostly potentially harmless in and of themselves, become intrinsically easy to be made deceptive by someone adept at navigating the system. And it’s not even an injustice in many cases, because more often than not, all a good accountant is trying to do, is fend off the throughly predatory class of vermin that composes government, who live off the work of honest citizens while giving a return for it that would see them executed for fraud, criminal negligence, misappropriation of funds, nepotism and flat out theft in any just society.
See, things really are NOT that complicated. And even the more truly nuanced and deeper aspects of economics can still be thought of carefully and deeply and equitable, fair, honest, and just solutions found.
But that is not what the people who own and run things like the Bank for International Settlement and the Federal Reserve and the various “national” Central Banks, and the IMF want.
Of course not.
They want the chaos, and the barriers to understanding, real, simple, knowledge first of all, then the barriers to entry into their domain of course and above all, the barriers to doing anything at all that might change the status quo where they have infinite supply of that which they create out if thin air, but determines if your child will eat or starve, have access to good medicine based in science or poisons based in the lies they teach their “cattle” (you and yours and me and mine), that is: fiat money.
It’s all a giant, massive lie, spun in a delusion, covered by sophistry, fraudulent math, predatory “legislation”, and deeper down, blackmail, violence, war, and deception at every turn.
So what can you do about it? You can start by regaining as much of your own personal sovereignty as you can, with the aim of becoming able to be independent of fiat money too, ultimately. And this is what I have been writing about in various ways for the last four years at least, but has been a trend for much of my life. Until 2020 though, this was limited to trying to be left alone as I got in with my little life in my corner of the world. That was a mistake many of us made, and it is no linger sustainable.
It’s time to organise and create a new way of life.
You will find the beginning of this in the sticky post at the top labelled The Important Stuff. Click on that read more up there or the link here, and work your way through. At the bottom you also have links to various series that will help you put things in context.
Good luck cowboy. Hope to see you on my side of the fight one day.
This pinned post aims to give both new and old visitors the quick links to the main parts of this site that are most important, and gets updated with any new stuff fairly regularly so it’s a good idea to check it now and then.
The People have spoken. I will also add a brief (say under 9,000 words!) explanation as to why.
Perhaps my binging of the series Mad Men has inclined me to explain myself more than usual concerning a topic I hardly ever mention but that is actually quite important to me: Aesthetics.
And since you all have short attention spans I put a heading below in underlined bold you can skip to.
The Poll remains open so it may accumulate more votes over time, but I am also quite sure that most of the critics have spoken already.
I also received some texts and emails and one of the most balanced was an email that explained how the eye naturally tracks from top left to bottom right for Westerners, and that while, yes, the fruitfly attention span is a real thing, and people probably don’t even notice the sidebars and links there, this site has a unique look that is not really found anywhere else; and that —for anyone with a little discernment— makes it stand out from the endless deserts of slick, clean, pristine, and sterile sites that all resemble each other.
And he has a point. I don’t know about you, but I can barely stomach seeing another substack layout.
He was probably too polite to point out what my most constructive critic spells out, which is that he thinks the blog looks like a Warhammer 40K site and that there is so much content it looks like a reddit sub with 50,000 posts.
While I resent the Reddit comparison, I understand this site is not one-dimensional, and that can be “overwhelming” for some, after all, I cover everything from Ancient Technology to the Zombie Apocalypse, and everything in between, with serious posts about astronomy, Mars, The Catholic Church, Martial Arts, Christianity, Hypnosis, Science Fiction deeply steeped in Nazi “Conspiracy theories” that are rooted in factual events, random thoughts on the farming life, occasional humorous anecdotes about my not quite feral, but certainly savage children, and many, many, other topics, as the categories list (now fixed after the hack attack) on the right clearly shows.
So, yeah, I guess the average overstimulated, non-existent attention-span, partially woke, partially boomerzeigest infected, possibly apathetic GenXer, depressed Millennial, or stoned GenZ reader may find the site too much “effort” to peruse, investigate, navigate, and explore.
I get it.
But you see, as I wrote back in 2009 when I created this site’s look, from scratch, out of my own ideas and head, and despite it offering both Hypnosis Services (which are actually being requested more lately, with good results in general) as well as a link to my E-store for digital versions of books I wrote (most of which are also on Amazon), and some watercolours I do when time permits, the primary thing this site is about is not what you might think.
It is not politics, hypnosis, science, science fiction, writing, or really any of the categories listed on the right; but rather, it is about an overall, encompassing category I mentioned right at the very origin of this site:
Exploration.
As I wrote in 2009 (the site launched in early 2010 but I had written up the various pieces a few months earlier):
The world we inhabit, and the universe we find ourselves in, is an absolutely incredible and fascinating thing. In truth, almost everything I do stems from my ever-growing curiosity about many, many things.
This site means to attract a very unique type of reader.
The ideal daily visitor is a person that is still curious about life and the world we live in. Increasingly frustrated or angered by the increasing enstupidation and zombification of humanity all around us, but not crippled by it. Not a nihilist or a person lacking in hope and ability as a result of the grind they put us all under. I want the rebels that prefer to live out in the wastelands with single action revolvers, filtered water catchment tanks, solar panels, and water turbines, far away from the drug-addled inhabitants of the Brave New World Cities where you will be provided for, own nothing, and be drugged, lied to and brainwashed into “happiness”.
Such people will NEVER agree with everything I think, opine on or write. There will be things I say that will piss them off, or they will disagree with, BUT and this is key, they are the type of person that CAN be persuaded by facts. And as such, even the things I write that may piss them off may later, one day, when presented in a way that suits them more, be digested, metabolised and assimilated. They may, in fact, change their mind. And sometimes they may change mine.
Everyone likes to think they are that type of person, who can change his mind based on solid facts, but I estimate that at minimum over 85% of people are simply not. And if I had to guesstimate the actual number of people that can turn their long-held beliefs on a dime when presented with irrefutable evidence, I would say that at the most optimistic and generous, it is under 2%.
So, I know. I am my own worst enemy from a financial, economic, or fame perspective. And while I care absolutely not at all for fame, I could certainly appreciate being able to make a living just from my writing and sharing of concepts, stories, and ideas I have discovered in my rather eventful life. That would be truly awesome.
But not at the cost of my integrity.
I ENJOY writing this blog. And while it lay mostly dormant for years at a time, because my life was too full, chaotic and dynamic for me to give this much thought, since 3 years ago, I have begun an attempt to create a stable family home. It’s not a coincidence given I have also fathered three children in the last 5 years.
And while I have no more time (in fact, probably less), no less chaos, and certainly a LOT more worries and a LOT less money than I did before, continuing to write here actually gives me some of the spiritual fuel that inspires me and keeps me going.
Yes, the Satanists in charge may nuke the site tomorrow from orbit, or I may get droned or microwaved into a “heart attack” for it, or whatever.
C’est la vie.
But in the meantime I’ll carry on as I see fit.
And in doing so, the people that will most likely be attracted to this site are the types who WILL look at the links on the sidebars.
The types of people who DO read full length books and enjoy them, even if they too are harassed, squashed into cubicles, robbed of their time and sanity and souls every day.
They are the people who remain curious, defiant, who are able to change their mind based on facts, enjoy a story or a laugh with a man they agree on some things with and disagree on others, without either one ever losing respect for each other.
They are the type who, perhaps, also understand my sense of taste.
The Aesthetics of this most Excellent and Tonic Verbarium of Ideas
In my opinion, the last natural, real, honest, scientists, were best exemplified in the late 1800s. It was a time when equipment and machinery was crafted with care and skill, but also with a pleasing aesthetic.
Scientific observation was meticulously undertaken with patient recording of results and while the scientific method was held to tightly, the imagination of men was unfettered. We could envision sky-ships and then we built them.
Cognac and good cigars were served in the well-furnished libraries of men who could theorise on the laws of gravity as easily as discuss the possibility of remote areas of the world that might house supposedly extinct species. Men who would travel to far-away lands to explore ancient and mysterious ruins to discover the real origins of mankind. Men who did not fear an intellectual conversation, nor a brawl when the occasion called for it. Men who could argue honestly in search of truth, not the mere satisfaction of ego.
Such is the design of this site.
The slightly baroque look of the wallpaper reminiscent of hand-crafted wood-panelling, the various links and addendums to the site analogous to hidden doors in the library, or a secret panel in the desk, behind which was to be found even more astonishing information and locations.
It was a time where a man could be a real scientist, an explorer, a polymath, hold his own in discussions with the most esteemed experts of various royal societies, but not shy away from a bare knuckle fight or a duel with rapiers at dawn.
It was a better time, when men (and women) of good breeding, or at least quick wit, were naturally more observant, could make something of themselves through their own efforts, and were free to explore thoughts, ideas, lands and cultures with no one bothering them too much beyond possibly trying to kill them for time to time; but usually for economic or personal reasons, which are at least understandable, unlike much of the wokeness of the present day.
So that, is the look I was going for.
And I would say it has stood the test of time.
It is not a design that has “aged out”.
It was intentionally started as something you might expect to find well over one hundred years ago, in a slightly cyberpunkish, Space 1899, Jules Verne and HG Wells novel, sort of way.
The intent here, is that while the tone can range from rough and brusque to rarefied and abstract, the point is freedom to think. Freedom to explore.
And in fact, in writing out this explanation for you, gentle readers and kind supporters of my work (and yes, you too, those who hate-read here in fury, and even you, Dean, 30-year veteran of the NSA/CIA/FBI/Spook outfit that is designated as my personal agent), I am reminded of that original intent as well as the ways I may have strayed from it here and there, as every man will.
At times my tone has been cruder than I prefer, but then, it is a very raw and evil world we inhabit, and I, nor my target audience, is a prude. The odd curse or graphic sentence here and there is not anything I will lose sleep over, but perhaps, I can find a better way to temper my expressions.
I do not know yet if this site will ever reach a large enough readership that it might result in continued patronage of the things I offer and mention here, I hope it does, and soon. But regardless if it ever does or not, I will continue to write here in this spirit; and the changes that might come to this site (other than what Dean and his friends might have in store for us all) will probably be limited to a consolidation, of various concepts or topics. Perhaps an addition of a forum for people to discuss various ideas.
And there is certainly scope for people to contribute.
The SOE side of things has never taken off because the readership I have is small, and we are all increasingly struggling to survive, but the structure for it is all identified and it would be awesome if other natural scientists from around the world took it upon themselves to do experiments, report them back here and get them to be added to the Adventure Science Library, which I have not had a chance to work on and update in years.
Similarly, you might want to actually physically join me in Italy or at least contribute to the efforts of The Kurganate. One man already has bought property near me, another lives here already, and more would come here tomorrow if they had the funds to do so. Some are working towards it.
Or you might just support my efforts by reading my books, or subscribing with a membership to my YouTube channel.
Or… you could simply use the share button at the bottom of each blog post (you need to actually click on the blog post individually for the button to appear at the end of a post, but we are working on it showing even if you are just on the main page) and send whatever post interests you to a friend.
In Conclusion
I know this site is not for everyone.
It was never meant to be.
It was always meant to be for that discerning, objective, rational, curious, adventurous yet scientific type of person. Maybe they all died out in the late 1800s, or maybe I really am from Mars, and was transported here as a very small baby, in a perverse reversal of John Carter’s situation. But whatever the case may be, and as much harder as becoming a Warlord of Terra is, I plan to continue on as a, possibly Martian, erudite polymath, with a large vocabulary, a small to inexistent capacity for suffering fools, and a partiality for rapiers, blades and firearms, exploring ancient ruins, and hunting for cryptids.
UPDATE: Well, it’s Monday, and Dean (I like to call him Dean) of the CIA/NSA/FBI is back at work I guess. Because THIS post was truncated half-way cutting out more than half, which is also rather malicious in that if I didn’t check I would think the post is up but readers would assume it’s ended rather abruptly and in a spot that makes it look like I sold out. He definitely thinks like a petty government employee. Some of you may still have the original post on your browser in full if you do not refresh. if you do, copy it and email it to me please.
As mentioned yesterday when the blog was restored, the attack on my site was something that was done over a period of months and the infiltration was extensive.
We are still fixing a few things, like the way that each post looks if you click on it individually, as well as trying to see if we can add the share button under each post not only when you click on an individual post, but have it visible also from the main feed under each post.
There are obviously also some security things happening behind the scenes.
As we continue to resolve the issues, some rather interesting things are coming to light about the attack:
1. The focus here was to ensuring any post related to Sedevacantism or proper Catholicism exposing all the fake “Pope” since 1958 to the present were in essence not linked, and not presenting alternate and related posts on the same subject.
2. Ditto anything relating to Bergoglio and the antipapacy.
3. And of course, the exposure of really important things like who controls the financial system of the entire planet, what the Bank of International Settlement is and does and who owns it, the genocide in Gaza, the now proven medical fact that the covid bioengineered “virus” was designed to not affect those who present genetically as Ashkenazi Jews, anywhere near as much as it was designed to cause harm to people of a Viking-like disposition (the original Crusaders and a class I and my wife and children belong to) and the fact that the genetic serum murder juice was probably bioengineered similarly, so as to not be anywhere near as lethal to a certain ethnicity. You know, stuff like the at was attacked more directly.
4. It has now come to light that at least some self-confessed Israeli actors have possibly been directly contacting and attempting to mildly intimidate Sedevacantists going to mass. These are professional people of a very honest and unthreatening type being approached by vague strangers making very personal queries that show the “random stranger” knows a lot about them, before informing them they are Israelis and the people being interfered with or delayed are now “allowed” to go to Mass.
I am not surprised by the attack on my site, nor the (for now) subtle-ish intimidation of proper Catholics just going about their business and attending Holy Mass.
Most people are unaware that I have been under some level of psyop activity since I wrote The Face on Mars. It was pretty intense at the time and then tapered off for a bit with various spikes in activity over the intervening almost 30 years. It spiked up a little when I wrote the Systema book but not much and again when I wrote Believe! and Reclaiming the Catholic Church.
It ranged from having my phone tapped (confirmed by professionals who worked in the South African Secret Service, though they were more upset by the fact they didn’t know who was doing it) to various digital infiltrations (my phone and emails were hacked as were those of women I was seeing, family members and so on) and quite serious interference with communications as well as direct threats to people who were associating with me at the time.
But I have lived an “interesting life” —in the Chinese sense of the word— and pissed off several people who definitely have the means to cause the same sort of harm. Usually because such wealthy individuals behaved badly with someone I cared about or in generic terms and had to face either some consequences or a rather serious me discussing the possibility of their helping to clean out a toilet bowl with their face if they did not alter course.
The point is that such people invariably fold under pressure of the low-technology kind.
I also pissed off some people that are certainly not shy to get deeply involved in that kind of low-tech philosophy of life, and they had somewhat more direct responses, like sending armed men to my place of residence, but neither kind of pressure has really affected my course in life in terms of how I will behave, even if it certainly has affected me in various ways, primarily financially, and by being kept out of any positions that would gather much influence very widely.
But to be fair, I was never really interested in the latter, and in the former only insofar as being able to live well and provide for my loved ones. But life is brutal and for all I know I’ll be “droned” or “accidented” or “infarcted”, or “cancered” or whatever, at some point for my trouble, and if so, so be it. I never lost sleep over it when I was not a believer, and I certainly am not losing sleep over it even more, now that I am Catholic. I doubt I’ll be “suicided” other than perhaps as a direct warning that it wasn’t a suicide, because anyone that knows me is aware that just isn’t an option for me.
And for all I know, one of the factions somewhere may even help “elevate” me at some point, if so, behind the scenes and without my direct knowledge, because I certainly have been
(this is where he cut off the rest of the post. Interesting place no? I have re-written the rest of the post below, so it will differ from what you may have read earlier, but the “approached multiple times” was part of the original. By cutting it off here it made it look as if I had been secretly “paid” which I assure you is not the case. But hey… if the elites want to give me a ton of cash by say buying up millions of my books, I’m just fine with that, and it would probably keep me busy and less dangerous than if they keep pissing me off).
approached multiple times with rather large cash offers which were rejected by me, not because I am a Saint, but rather because there isn’t an amount of money I will compromise my integrity for. Again, not because I am such a good or pious Catholic, or have such outstanding moral fibre, but just because there are certain lines I will not cross, for my own peace of mind, regardless of what anyone else thinks, or thinks is reasonable or not.
The point is that as Adam Piggott pointed out in relation to this attack, I have used my name and face for over 30 years now to say what I want to say. And while I undoubtedly have irritated many in doing this, possibly because I am not a complete idiot and I understand that certain technologies are dangerous and should not be given to everyone without any oversight, I seem to still be alive. Probably also due to the fact that I generally am happy to stay in my lane and not cause too much trouble, as long as I am left reasonably alone and able to live decently, may have been somewhat protective.
But if you poke me, well, then, as I wrote in BELIEVE! since my duty as a Catholic is to spread the light of God, that can be done by setting fire to enemy encampments. So every time I receive such attacks, guess what… I’m going to get busy doing my best to spread the gospel and related topics even more.
That old adage that “the best defence is a good offence” is not always right, but it certainly has a lot to be said for, especially when the attacks are from the indemoniated and their little servants.
It is important too that you do so boldly and without fear. Because for one, fear, on some level is ALWAYS an illusion, and secondly, even if it is somewhat justified, giving in to fear is never the Way. As Catholics we are not given to a spirit of fear. Nor do we need hope either.
If I end up dead for my troubles, well, everyone dies at some point. And I never lost sleep over the potential damage they can do to me when I wasn’t a believer, I certainly am not going to lose any sleep over it now that I am.
You can break me. You can kill me. But you can never defeat me.
Those who understand that apparent paradoxical sentence don’t need it explained, and those who don’t understand it cannot ever have it explained to them either, so you either know, or you don’t.
And if you are one of those who does, then join us. Create your own groups and communities, or join ours. And if you are not, then get out of the way.
This post, this blog, and even me, may be gone tomorrow, but nothing can stop the indomitable spirit of men who have no fear of the enemy and will continue to act justly and push back at the evil in this world.
They have spent 4 years trying to ensure people no longer meet up face to face and get organised to build things that will resist the Satanic agenda they are ramping up daily. So, reader… what are you going to do?
After I had written the original version of this post, I went for a coffee at the local bar and a conversation was struck up with a group of strangers that laughed when I posted out that a patron that had just left looked like the doppelgänger of Benjamin Netanyahu. I told them I was very briefly worried. if Bibi was in our little village then things were really bad. they all immediately concurred and said it was best for him and his kind to stay far away from us, and that led into talk about the covid scamdemic, the forced LGBT-Pedo agenda and so on, and I didn’t hold back. I stated my views direct, openly and unambiguously, and said if anyone was offended they could keep away from me, which would make us both happy.
Not a single one of them objected. Not even mildly with a disapproving look. In fact, the women especially, were nodding in enthusiastic agreement with me.
And that has been my experience throughout. I have yet to get a single person objecting to my views when I express them directly and openly.
We are the majority. And we are all equally sick of the bullshit narratives we are being fed. But most have been cowed into self-censorship by vociferous scum that has got hold of some power due to our own weakness, laziness and inaction. But when thousands and millions of us decide we had enough, they simply can’t do anything about it. So, stop being afraid.
I may get droned. Maybe you too. But they can’t drone all of us. The maths just doesn’t work. And you can sense it, can’t you? They are starting to get scared. And they absolutely ARE given to a spirit of fear. They literally signed a pact with the devil in many cases. But I sure didn’t. And neither did you. So, act accordingly.
In the various studies of how the mind works and how we process information, are various tests that show with varying degrees of precision, which modality people use to process information as their primary channel.
My own tests were producing invariably strange results that went beyond the normal range of what they are supposed to measure. It was only after I understood what this meant, that I could really better understand certain concepts and even events that had occurred to me that remained somewhat “unexplainable” or could even be considered “supernatural”, but that once I understood two things, suddenly all made sense.
The two things were that:
Firstly, my primary mode of processing information is kinaesthetic (touch), and that to a degree that is not considered, or even accounted for, in any test I have seen, and the second part of it is that this ability or level of processing of information actually extends beyond the physical body.
We all have magnetic fields and I believe having a sufficiently sensitive perception of kinaesthetic information means you can perceive information through this field too. There is, in fact, enough scientifically repeatable science to show this is a real phenomenon by the way, and on a personal level, experiences I lived through while working in close protection and even before that as a child as well as many examples in my decades of martial art training, have proven this to me without any doubt remaining.
Lastly, there is also sufficient evidence that this magnetic field may also allow us to receive information from much further afield than most suspect. And once again, there is plenty of clinically observed and tested evidence for this too. A good place to start for this would be Professor Michael Persinger’s video, No More Secrets.
Anyway, my usual digression into what many may assume is some self-glorification, is, also as usual, not that, but rather the presentation of evidence that I have absolute, objective, reason to believe in. I realise of course that this may well look subjective to the reader, but for any regular readers, I think that my dedication to the highest truth I am capable of presenting is clear. I have no problem admitting error when I make it and realise it, and nothing I have said about my experiences can, or has ever been, refuted as untrue.
At any rate, this post is not really about my processing of information by my primary method, which is kinaesthetically (that is, by the sense of touch), interesting as it may be (especially when I consider, as some women I knew in my past pointed out, that I spent a great deal of time punching and kicking other men and being punched and kicked by them in turn).
It is instead, commentary on my second most used sense to process information, which is my sense of hearing, so, really as far as humans are concerned, the processing of words.
Most people use the three senses of touch, hearing and sight to process information, and there are relatively simple ways of determining what their primary, secondary and tertiary senses are for processing the world around them.
Mine, in order, are kinaesthetic (to a degree often not measurable by the tests), hearing (combined with what is sometimes described as audio/digital, which is a kind of formalised logical processing that can be viewed as linked/analogous/close-to internal self-talk) and finally sight.
I found it interesting when I first took these tests over months and years, that sight always was the least important of the senses for me in terms of how I processed the world around me. In a sense, it could be said I have an inbuilt “protection” from being fooled by my “lying eyes”. While hearing, for tonality, sounds and words, is my second most used sense, again, interesting, because the spoken content usually only forms about 7% of what people perceive/use in communication between them. I suspect it’s lower for women or higher for men, but that’s another blog post.
I recall a distinct point in time, talking to a very pretty woman, how the words that were coming out of her mouth were saying one thing, but every other aspect of her that I was processing unconsciously by both that sense of touch —even if we were not touching— and my eyes and what they noticed unconsciously, was telling me the exact opposite.
It was a strange enough and conscious enough experience that I wrote it down later that day.
And some ten or so years later I was able to confirm with the person in question that my non-verbal perception was in fact the correct one, and not her verbal expression. The fact I had written it down and still had that diary made it objectively possible to verify this with certainty.
Words and their meaning have always mattered to me, to the same degree that they tend to matter to little children —now that I have enough of them to notice how precise they are with them— and in general, my expressions in words tend to be autistically accurate.
It is with some interest then, that I noticed long before I was aware of any of these things, that the actual words of a song mattered to me far more than the melody of it. Songs that were popular with large numbers of people would not appeal to me at all, and vice-versa, because of the intrinsic (or perceived) meaning of their lyrics.
For example, the song Brothers in Arms, by dire straits, is one of my top two or three songs ever, maybe the top one, and it is considered somewhat morbid by many people. It certainly has a melancholic quality to it, but for me, its central message is intensely positive. It is saying that even as we literally kill and main each other, in this stupid and broken world, the only thing that makes sense, the only truth, is love.
Similarly, one of the songs both I and my little son since he was a baby like is A Higher Love.
And in the version most familiar to me for the last few years since he was born, you can see why the video might have influenced that.
And even the “original” I was mostly familiar with of Whitney Houston was one I liked a lot too.
As does the little Viking by the way.
We both liked Whitney Houston songs and this one would make him sit and stare in silent awe every time it came on.
Aside a slight streak of appreciation for what might be described as the “exotic” look, which seems to be a genetic trait in the males of my family, and possibly Venetians in general, as we tend to want to explore uncharted lands and certainly have a propensity for becoming very interested in any attractive looking females of said far-away lands, the reality is that most of Houston’s songs had lyrics that could be related to love in general or even gospel music. She was initially presented as a church-going, pristine and innocent christian girl with a great voice.
And for all I know maybe she really was, initially. Her eventual swallowing by the Satanic industry that is music, film, and related activities, may certainly have been the devouring of yet another initially innocent soul.
The point though, is that aside the attractive visuals, it was always the words that ultimately had me enjoying the songs.
And little did I know that the actual original song A Higher Love was by Steve Winwood in 1986.
For some reason, listening to this version with the lyrics visible and only landscapes as background, has an even more powerful effect on me.
Yeah, that little devil symbol in the top left bothers me too, but it doesn’t show in the video.
I know too, why it affects me more deeply.
The “Original” Whitney Houston song from 1990 makes the lyrics be ambiguously about possibly a love that yes may be about God, or from God, but could also be interpreted as the kind of love a woman and a man might share on this Earth.
The Kygo version my son and I saw the most as a full video (endless times) definitely brought the lyrics down to Earth and from the merely possibly Earthly romantic to the definitely Earthly lustful, with a hint of possible romance. The visuals almost entirely obscuring the divine original intent of the real original version of Winwood’s version.
Seeing that video with only the words and landscapes gives a very deep and much more powerful sense of the song.
The original intent of divine love is clear and beautiful, and its undeniable link to our search for it in each other as romantic love is a poignant reminder of our human condition, how weak and fragile and desperate we all are, and one can’t help but feel a tender loving for the misery of the human race while hearing this song.
It’s the kind of feeling of love that hurts.
The same one that I experience from listening to Brothers in Arms.
Part of the reason I am such a misanthrope, is precisely because it is the stupidity, pettiness, weakness, fear, greed, laziness, envy, jealousy, gluttony, and perhaps, above all, cowardice of humanity at large that causes us to live as we do on this planet. That is, oppressed by pedophiles and satanists that have grabbled their way to power by subterfuge, deception, blackmail, and controlling the means of exchange (money), in ways that are meant to enrich them materially while impoverishing us all not just materially, but even worse, spiritually.
Such creatures, should have had their heads lopped off by men of character as soon as they were first discovered to be what they are.
But aside what John C. Wright labelled as the Noble Savage, who at least had a code of conduct or honour (though I assure you it would not be one you would enjoy living under, for they were invariably brutal) the only people who can be said to have ever shown the fortitude, courage and correct violent action more often than not, were Catholic knights.
While Romans, Spartans and Japanese Samurai all have had a history of courage, their rules and codes of conduct were often rather brutal. Catholics were the only warrior class that had chivalry and good conduct towards the weak that was as gentle and humane as it was, brutal though it may appear to us, enfaggotated weaklings of modernity.
If we are ever to free ourselves of the indemoniated critters that currently are controlling the reins of financial, political, media power, and most often force as well, we will need such men again. Men capable of acting for the greater good as is required, without fear and in the full knowledge that their actions will be met with vicious slander, attacks of all kinds and eventually even assassination. And such men should respond and act accordingly.
Words matter. Your word matters. The Word, in case you forgot, is another name for Jesus Christ.
And God is Love.
And as my family motto for at least 800 years states:
Love Conquers All.
Which is not to say sometimes you don’t have to wipe out some demon-infested servants of Satan. But lovingly. And with a prayer over their Hellish carcasses afterwards. Or you know, when you get a chance, because sometimes these flying monkey-imps come in swarms.
I strongly suggest that, women especially, look at this 15 minute video from a woman that has interviewed 1000 women.
Pay attention especially between minutes 5 and 12 or so.
I found it interesting that she said people want other people to convert to their religion (after minute 10). I think she is mostly right. And I also think that the perspective for Sedevacantist is slightly different.
Yes we do want people to see the truth, but I personally do NOT want random people becoming Catholic. I am not aware of any Sede that does either. And when I say Sede I always mean actual Catholics. Because as a matter of dogmatic principle, Catholicism makes it absolutely clear that the only conversion to Catholicism that is valid is one that is entirely voluntary.
Specifically, in order to go from whatever one was, to proper Catholic, inevitably tends to mean a process of rather in-depth study of the history of the Church, the various dogmas of Catholicism when compared to reality as we find it and other beliefs we may have had and so on.
Her final conclusion that marriage only has about a 10% chance of working out is not something I looked into, and she may well be right, nevertheless, I still think that marriage is worth doing. I do agree that women used to stay in marriage in the past due to mostly external factors, and if we take that as the method of measurement then 10% may be optimistically high. But then, I have been saying women need to catch up and evolve some rationality, logic and emotional self-discipline for decades. Those who manage it, and who go on to get married and create numerous families, will be the ones that —along with the men who also evolved beyond mere brute force as the way to control their surrounding— create the next generation of worthwhile humans.
Aside from simply the fact it is the highest form of absolute truth I have yet encountered in human affairs, viewed from an autistic level of objectivity, because I did not start out with any kind of dog in the fight, this is also why real Catholicism makes so much sense. It is based on objective reason that absolutely reflects objective reality, regardless of how we feel about it, and the women in it are amongst the most capable, intelligent and rational I have ever met in my over half-century on this Earth.
And we Catholics certainly don’t shy away from the whole making a bunch of children and sticking with your wife/husband for life while you raise them, and beyond it too.
So, no, I don’t want people to become Catholic for any reason other than the real one: Because it makes sense and model reality accurately and they see and experience that in their own lives.
I always found reading Vox Popoli more interesting for its underlying premises than the direct message. Both are usually well presented in an obvious and at times “controversial” manner, which is why Vox is an interesting and well-read writer even by people who may disagree strongly with him.
Today’s post was no exception, and it gave me pause to reflect a little on my own life. Something I don’t do very often. I may refer to examples from my life on this blog, but generally I do that mostly as a way to give at least anecdotal proof of whatever I am discussing.
Generally though, I am too busy running to the next mountain ridge or life-battle to stop for very long and take stock of broader aspects of my past. I know them, I lived through them, and I am not very prone to melancholy or regret, thank God. Nevertheless, once in a while, it is good to do.
Perhaps it was also due to a brief conversation with my wife last night. She said something to the effect of “How fast and hard life has been with us.”
And it’s true. We have known each other a long time, some 18 years, and been together nearly 8, but in that time we have done and gone through so much that it feels as if we were together a lifetime already. In a good way, mind you, but it’s definitely a lot. Moving through life at the speed I do is not for the faint of heart, and she certainly is probably the only woman on the planet not only able to do it, but come through it better for it instead of completely worn out.
Neither of us is young anymore and sadly we don’t have a “nest egg” either. I don’t even have a pension, so I’ll be working till I drop. I don’t mind really as long as I can get to a point of balance where we are self-sufficient regardless of what the world throws out at us. We’d be there already if it was just the two of us, but then… what point would such an existence have? The thought of it alone fills me with dread. Our children exasperate us, wear us out, and are relentless little savages that would have been equally at home in ancient Rome or Sparta, and of course they like to eat daily, and despite their propensity for running barefoot everywhere, apparently also require regular clothing and other basics. They certainly make life a bit more tiring, but, by God we love them so, and a life without them would be a complete horror when I compare the two.
And we both had the other version too. Before we got together we had both travelled extensively and lived on our own terms mostly. When we did get together, we didn’t have much time to keep doing that together, because she’s basically been pregnant most of the time. But the little we did was excellent. She is a very fun (if somewhat chaotic) travel companion. Her spontaneity is a joy to watch. We’d been together only three months when on a holiday in Venice she walked us into a jeweller’s shop, an old style, very Venetian, traditional type of place, “just to browse” and we left with our order of wedding bands. So yes, she definitely matches me in both the speed and intensity, but more importantly, she matches me in what most outsiders would assume is an unlikely aspect we share: a sense of self-dignity that is increasingly rare in the world.
Men tend to refer to it as “honour” but it’s nothing to do with the external world. It’s something we have internally that prevents us from making choices or taking on offers that so not align with who we are.
We both had offers throughout our lives that involved a (much) easier life, wealth, and even fame, and we each, independently of each other turned them down for that one reason. You can’t buy our souls. It sounds cliché but the word soul really is the one I think fits best. It is not related to the outside world or what it may look like to others or a need to be “cool”. It’s just an internal thing, that relates to the most fundamental part of who you are, and the action you take or refuse is based in retaining that aspect of yourself unpolluted by the world, regardless of any witnesses to it at all. And in fact, mostly, we made our choices in silence and without complaint.
At the end of his post, Vox wrote:
Kate Moss once famously said that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. In like manner, there is no success or fame that feels as satisfying as freedom and self-respect.
And it made me sit a minute and review my life regarding this. It’s not as if I had any doubts about it, as I said, the regrets in my life are few to nil. I’d have to dig hard to find some, and then, when I look at it, the things I may have regretted I could not have acted meaningfully differently at the time with the knowledge I had.
Which is not to say I don’t think I made mistakes. I made many and big ones too, but regret is a different kind of thing to my mind. It’s the difference between a man who has his leg blown off, gets a prothesis and carries on with his life, a little limpier in his gait, and one who daily regrets and broods over it and feels sorry for himself.
My wife and I both grasp this. Earlier in the week I told her:
“Imagine if we’d got together when we first found each other (the attraction was there from the start as I have explained before), we’d have 15 kids by now. Okay… maybe only ten or so, but still…”
She looked at me sweetly and verbalised in stark but not unkind words what we both knew:
“It would never have worked dear. You’d be dead and I’d be in jail. (Pause) Or the other way round.”
I laughed with her, then we were silent for a bit before I added:
“It’s funny… because it’s true!”
She smiled sweetly and nodded meaningfully.
And it’s a part of us too, that uncompromising sense of self. You change and so you change what and how you may react to as you get older, but the uncompromising part remains uncompromising, even if the specifics may change, the constant remains that you will not do anything that is sensed by your core as “selling out” who you are.
For both a man and a woman to have that as hard and unmovable and as deep as we do, and remain together, is… unlikely at best, and rarer than dodo-teeth in my experience.
I think too, that our utter hurricane of the last eight years or so, despite it being rough in practical terms, has been extremely useful, because it’s akin to war. If there are bullets whizzing by overhead, danger and risk at every turn, and no safety net, you soon find out both what you are made of, as well as what the people around you are made of. And when the war scenario ends, you know at a very deep level what the guy who charged trenches next to you is like; and all the superficiality of what keeps the pretence of civilisation among humans going, are like a costume you may both wear in public for the sake of the same said veneer of normalcy that prevents us from living in the irradiated wastelands of the post-apocalypse, but even so, with a glance across the ball-room of the theatre of life, we know. That we are who we really are, in both the good and the horrible, and that the other knows it too.
Between men, that is a rare friendship and one that the heroic and timeless stories of humanity make epic poems about, like the Illiad.
Between a man and a woman, it is what inspires us to reckless acts of foolishness, danger, and madness. But also… what fuels every love song, creation of art that has a sublime beauty, and inspires well… arguably… epic poems like the Illiad.
That retention of your own sense of self, that deep and abiding absolute self knowledge, is what truly makes life worth living and reaching your deathbed, immediate or far-away as it may be, without fear. No amount of wealth or fame or “glory” can compare to it.
Neither I nor my wife regret at all turning down large sums of money, superficially attractive offers of widespread fame, or innumerable indecent proposals. Whatever indecent things we did, we chose ourselves and usually for free and the curiosity of the (unwise) exploration.
Ultimately, as I said in both my book on Systema and Caveman Theory, and as the oracle at Delphi has stated timelessly, the first and most important thing you should really know, is yourself.
The Meaning of Hedonism
Young men (and women) think that when they come across a “Bible Zealot” or “hardcore Christian” which is what most would assume I am (they would be wrong because I am not a Bible alone moron and what passes for both “hardcore” and “christian” today is laughable) that talks about “hedonism”, we are imagining young people are on some orgiastic drunken revelry on the daily.
Allow me to correct that misguided view.
First of all I am GenX not a boomer so I neither resent nor hallucinate the situation of millennials and zoomers. In fact I mostly pity them, at least when they are not completely pathetic, in which case I am mostly frustrated by their lack of animus.
More importantly, I understand better than most that hedonism today is not really the orgies of the collapsing Roman empire. It is more a wasting of time while waiting and hoping against hope for “something better” to come along.
When you are raised with no understanding whatsoever of what Catholicism actually was and has always been and continues to be in those small number of families who still hold to it, you cannot help but go wrong in life.
The only sense of “the right way” I had in my upbringing was a code of honour that can best be defined —as John C. Wright did— as being that of the noble heathen. That is a man who keeps his word and does as his personal honour commands. It is a far cry from Catholicism and possibly the best level of civilisation that sort of way can aspire to is that of feudal Japan.
Possibly Imperial China too, but my understanding of Japanese codes of honour is superior (and closer) than the Chinese version of it. The Roman Empire too fas founded on it on arguably surpassed both Japanese and Chinese achievements, but in any case, no one can deny that all of those systems were far more brutal, uncharitable, and lacking in mercy and kindness when compared to Catholicism.
The point here is that absent the framework of what a good life actually is, meaning the proof of it, the reality of it you can see and verify for yourself, how is any young person to decide on how to best approach life?
If you DO know, things become a LOT simpler. But if you do not know, what a good life really means, you’re almost certain to get lost in all sorts of distractions.
I never saved really. I did buy some property (land) at age 26 after writing the first edition of the Face on Mars, and some 25 years later it helped me to sell it and put a deposit on a house in Italy. But as I had no intention to make any children (until I was 40 and gradually I had realised a lot of life’s “givens” were contemptible lies spread by boomers) I spent most of my time indulging those interests that caught my attention. And unbelievable as it may sound, the main one was a search for true love. Which resulted in much heartache and a lot of women. After a while it got so I sort of stopped believing in it but carried on enjoying the women. The rest of my time was filled with doing what I liked or interested me. Reading, martial arts, studying the human mind, ancient things and places, writing, visiting places I wanted to see… but always also that search for that one woman.
And eventually I found her.
But it was a very long, tortuous and far more painful and difficult road than it needed to be.
Had I been taught, and more importantly, shown, that family is the main point of life. Had my own family I was born into been less of a shitshow, how many years of distraction would I have saved. How much more could I have done and thus be leaving my children?
I don’t regret my life at all, because every part of it brought me to where I am now, married to the right woman finally and with enough children too. And if I had not taken this particular road I would not be with her or have the children I do, and as was very cleverly shown in a delightful film called About Time, that reality is inconceivable to me.
But the point is that if you are say in your twenties, or even thirties, (and yes, even 40s or 50s, I am living proof of this: It’s never too late) and you realise deeply that the main purpose of life is actually to create a family that is as happy and prosperous as you can make it, then, regardless of your actual situation, your priorities, your actions and your activities will be radically different than if you think having the latest iphone, knowing the latest political gossip, or cheering for this or that sports team, or traveling to see X place for the instagram cred, or getting another notch on your belt, matters at all.
And the kind of actions and activities that you will focus on will be such that, yes, perhaps you might have less “fun” (or time wasted on things that ultimately don’t matter, depending on your perspective) but you might also have a more concrete base from which to start that family.
Had I aimed to built something for the future starting in my early 20s, I would probably be able to live off rental income even with six kids by now. It’s also true that for my particular character that was never really going to be a likely road, so there is that to counter, I have always been too curious, and probably, as a good friend pointed out, too capable, to ever worry about the future, and indeed I am not especially worried about it now either, but it certainly is a lot harder than it could be.
Having a much harder life is not necessarily a bad thing. It makes you more capable in many ways (assuming you survive and overcome). But there is certainly something to be said for not having to work into your 80s. Probably anyway. Then again, I have Jean Parisot de Valette as a somewhat inspirational figure; and he was swinging his two-handed sword on the walls of one of the castles of Malta, wounded in a leg and not wearing his full armour at age 71, so… if you have that kind of character, what I can guarantee is that your life might indeed be very hard, but not boring. The issue however is not you, but your children, and while for some the idea of swinging a sword at muslim invaders’s heads in our seventies might be appealing (and for some of us possibly inevitable!) the fact is that if you’re instead leaving your children a few well-stocked and well-defended castles, and yet have also instructed them in the proper running of a city-state, you’d be far better off.
My children on the other hand will have to learn on the job, as it were, and perhaps that is as fate or God ordained. After all, we do have an 800 year known history of doing things this way; and while my branch of the family is indeed the silver one (that is filled with curious explorers and war-like adventurers, of minor noble rank) and not the gold branch that had the much higher nobility titles and actual castles to their name, it is also true that our side of the family has some truly extraordinary people in it; several of whom have been talked about in history books or left monuments with their name on it for a time.
But… if I had somehow a crystal ball at age 20 that told me I would have six children all under the age of 14 at age 55, aside the utter shock, I probably would have worked like a possessed man (as I tend to do most things) towards securing far more land and property and wealth than I have done. And even without the crystal ball, if I had simply thought creating a family was the main aim in life, I would have done so too.
Instead, the boomer poison of “the world is horrible, why would you want to bring more innocents into it?” Infected me well into my early 30s at the very least. And that is a lie that is directly related to someone not having any belief of any real substance in a Loving God.
Generic Zen-Agnosticism tinged with Shintoism is not exactly ideal for the consideration of family creation. And there hasn’t been as much need for wandering samurai, thankfully.
It took until the end of my 30s to realise that having children was the right way to live. And I am not unintelligent, which is demonstrated by the fact that I had come to this conclusion even though I was still essentially agnostic, and very much aware of how the levers of power on this planet work, which is not a position a person as objectively rational as I am is likely to come to without having a belief in God.
In fact I had come to this conclusion based only on the possibly irrational belief that my capabilities were enough to protect a child of mine even under such dystopic conditions as we have on this planet. Whether you think that is arrogance or confidence is debatable, but I am basically certain it would have been true if I limited myself to one or two children.
Adding the knowledge of a Loving God has removed a HUGE amount of the concern about having more children. And no, it does not mean miracles fall unceasing from the sky, the practicalities of feeding six children instead of two, as well as clothing them, educating them and so on are real, but you tend to find a way as you reorganise your priorities. And yes, maybe they will not all have the latest iphone and brand name clothing, but guess what: that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It makes them more imaginative and capable if they need to work for things, and if you are a decent parent you will also be able to help them get over a truly noxious aspect of modern life: caring excessively what other people think.
It’s a little different for girls than boys, but generally speaking, it is always best to err on the side of NOT caring what other people think than vice versa.
The emotional scars left by being overly concerned about other people’s opinions can be a truly devastating thing, particularly for girls, but boys too. Luckily my three youngest children already exhibit many traits that make me pretty secure in the view that this will not be an issue for them. If anything, the main worry might be to keep them from being arrested or chased out of towns for being possibly too cavalier about social rules in general!
All the people I knew at school that were from wealthy families, as a very frequent general trend, almost invariably tend to become what I would consider less accomplished human beings that even some of the absolute social rejects that everyone assumed would amount to nothing.
As a rule they tend to hold on to their wealth but be rather vacuous creatures with little to offer in terms of interesting personalities or life stories.
These apparent digressions, are not meandering, meaningless recollections and reflections of my life, they are intended to show you, and hopefully help you, see different aspects of life from different perspectives so that you might realise several things:
All that said… it is only a foolish or imprudent man that does not plan (somewhat loosely, to allow for life’s inevitable detours) for the future. Especially when he envisions a numerous family in it.
Plan accordingly young man, and realise that hedonism might just be your indulgence in fancy clothes and package holidays, without a single Roman orgy in sight.
No related posts.
By G | 10 January 2025 | Posted in Farming Life, Increasing Happiness, Relationships, Social Commentary