Goodbye To All That

America has never been an easy place to love. For many of us that relationship has been rife with co-dependencies because when you feel there is no there there, you quickly learn that for you there is no anywhere. You cling to it like a feral child that can’t bear to leave his mother’s dessicated corpse because there never was any life outside of her even after you were born. Life in the most diverse nation on earth is simply a force majeure. Identify with the hurricane if you can, though you may not like what the whirlwind has to say.

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The Last Testament of Pentti Linkola

Pentti Linkola passed away in his sleep on April 5th, 2020. I don’t have much to say about the passing of Linkola. What I believe I have said in my piece on Pentti Linkola at American Sun. One of my Finnish translators, Fatidicus Aeternus, brought two articles about Linkola to my attention that are likely the last public comments Linkola made and helpfully translated them for me.

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Pentti Linkola: A Finnish Scapegoat

This article is a sourced translation of this Finnish-language post on Pentti Linkola. I received two separate translations on it and merged the two together with my own attempt to explain and clarify Finnish references. Thank you to both Fatidicus Aeternus and Rand for their work in translating this, Alarik for his additional translation suggestions, and to the original author TIMO HÄNNIKÄINEN.

Nowadays in Finland, Pentti Linkola has become a national public property. He still raises conflicting reactions to be sure: for some he is a prophetic visionary or an incorruptible truth-teller, to others he is a nutcase or an attention seeking ecofascist. But everyone knows who he is and carry with them various anecdotes about his life. Interviews with Linkola are published on visible mediums yearly, despite him saying things which would get anyone else sued or socially ostracized.

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Fear and Self-Loathing in America

the following is a sample from my forthcoming American Sun article on the history and uses of humiliation.

“What did the Pilgrim Fathers come for, then, when they came so gruesomely over the black sea? Oh, it was in a black spirit. A black revulsion from Europe, from the old authority of Europe, from kings and bishops and popes. And more. When you look into it, more. They were black, masterful men, they wanted something else. No kings, no bishops maybe. Even no God Almighty. But also, no more of this new ‘humanity’ which followed the Renaissance. None of this new liberty which was to be so pretty in Europe. Something grimmer, by no means free-and-easy.” – DH Lawrence, “Studies in Classic American Literature”

Harvard was established to train Puritan clergy and it never stopped.

Humiliations runs deep in the American soul. America is not a land that one thinks of when they think of cultural cringe or the self-loathing that other nations, especially Anglo, have been all too eager to revel in. The Puritans occupy the American imagination, as they should for that American soul cannot be understood without understanding the Puritans, one of history’s great purity spiralers. Never has the purity spiral ascended so high and fallen so low than in their history.

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Questions From the Underground

Earlier this year I enthralled people who follow my content with the on-going story of how my closest friend was beginning to pay attention to the world and see what was going on, questioning the liberal paradigm and seeing what it was the dissident right was trying to say. It all started with a bad relationship that had a lot of bad friends whose insistence that their mental illness be celebrated that made him start saying “wait a tick”. As he began to go down the rabbit hole, I stood by, contextualizing what he was learning and giving him sources or works to check out. After one conversation, he finally learned the truth of who I am, what I represent, and what I believe.

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Grim Omens of the Cyber Legion

Like many of the once and future articles that dot this personal weblog of mine, this one had its origins in a Twitter thread that I sputtered out like a manic street preacher in a rapture sandwich board, screaming “that’s the missing link!” It would be a shame to let it get banished to the unreachable aether once its time is up, so I reprint it here, expanded and revised.

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40/F/Looking Down The Barrel of a (Wine/Pill) Bottle

Like any good dilemma, the one I’m in is one of my own doing. I have over ten drafts of posts (or just mere ideas of posts) sitting in my queue, and never really sure which one I should try to complete. I stand in the middle of my own blog like would-be roadkill standing in the light that conveniently goes to them instead of them to it. But on the thought of the cute creatures of God’s paved earth I was recently thinking of one of their dilemmas, the hedgehog’s dilemma, which leads me to the fable’s author, Arthur Schopenhauer.

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