A RESPONSE

First off, I would like to say that have no problem with Julian Langer. I think Langer’s quite great, a friendly sort of person with an outlook on matters that I think is lucid, well-thought out, and quite refreshing. Not to mention, rather bold (after all, Langer’s one of the few, aside from FB, and myself, who has the guts to say that “ecofascism” is effectively not real, a big lie manufactured by the communists to paint all radically dissident greens as Nazis and fascists, because let’s face it, folks like us are a threat to the socialists, and when it comes time, I’m sure I’ll be cracking their skulls with my big ol’ boots, right beside all the fascists and white power shitheels. And they write in a manner that’s very whimsical, poetic, full of ornate and engaging language, something that is often lacking in anarchist theory. Usually theory and philosophical ponderings in our milieu are dry, dull, and can be a real slog (sorry to any who my be offended by this notion, and don’t think I’m placing myself above the rest).

However, what I am here for, what this essay of mine shall be about, is that I think Langer’s got veganism (or, at least, how folks like me and FB and Ria would approach veganism) all wrong, and why I think his understanding of veganism, in relation to things like anarchy and individualism, is shallow. Let’s get into why I believe this to be the case, shall we?

While I can’t speak for many vegans (and many vegans, indeed, get on my fucking nerves for a whole host of reasons, from their support for socialism/communism (or the opposite, being conservative goons or sometimes even full-blown scumbag fascists), to championing veganism as “civilized”, to trying to de-radicalize veganism so it can be “acceptable” and brought into the fold…to the point where I wonder how “vegan” these jackasses really are…), I, myself, see the exploitation of fauna and air, water, soil, etc., as horrific beyond belief, and my idea of veganism means fighting on behalf of the ground I walk upon, the air I breathe, the trees I gaze upon in the woods, and the water that makes up the river I live near. Indeed, a good many vegans probably are just concerned with animals, and animals alone (and even then, only reformist methods that eschew “violent, terroristic extremism” in favor of reformist, populist, legalist idiocy, proving they care not at all), I, and I’m very much convinced Flower Bomb and Ria Del Montana, and a great deal of anti-civilization vegans out there, do not exclude the flora, as well as the minerals, waters, and the very gas we consume to survive. I imagine the metaphysical side of this viewpoint is neglected, but I don’t think it would be inaccurate for me, and others like FB and Ria, to view the Earth as an entire living being. Much issue would be taken, I can infer, with the liberal, Enlightenment-borne idea that Nature is just some cold, lifeless machine that keeps chugging on, here to serve us by essentially being little else but a machine composed of various components and parts that can be isolated and sectioned off for whatever short-sighted purpose we have, because that’s a mindset perpetrated by leftists, rightists, economists, techno-fetishists, etc. Of which I, FB, and Ria are most certainly not. We are of the opinion that the Earth is very much alive, and is being killed by the life-denying philosophies civilization perpetuates wholesale. Obviously, we have to eat something, don’t we? But I’ve tried to do my best (which, I’ll admit, isn’t always (or even, at times, isn’t frequently) my best) to eat more fruit (which isn’t the plant itself, per se), and obviously a good deal of the veggies I eat are moreso byproducts of the plant, rather than being the plant itself. As well as steering clear of substitutes, which I tend to think are not great anyway. It’s not the best rationalization, yeah, but any sort of harm reduction, I think, is worth it. Point being, the delusions of grandeur humanity has instilled into itself do wage war against the water, which is harmed by being filled with toxic bullshit, the minerals and dirt and sand and rocks, gouged out by digging machines, greedy hands, probing eyes, and an assortment of structures planted firmly into the ground (the Freudian in me wants to equivocate this forceful insertion of hard monuments to death with rape and sexual violation), and we turn the air into a mode of strangulation, rather than a source of life. None of this, I support in any capacity. And the meat/dairy industries are fucking guilty.
Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I am no egalitarian. That I find the idea of “equality” to be based in little else but utopian pipe dreams and a poor understanding of existence, and Nature. If things were all equal, all the same, in whatever arbitrary manner we use to define “equality” (because equality is always very open to interpretation), then things would have no individuality. Thus, they would not be free, for their egos, their unique selves, would be leveled flat. And if they were to ignore, to resist, this leveling, they would have to make themselves…unequal, I guess would be the right term. Different. Separate from the herd, from the crowd, from the many. Not to mention, egalitarianism requires enforcement to be achieved. Proudhon wasn’t right on very much (Stirner was very good at picking apart the old man’s horse shit, even if we ALL owe something to that same old man, even I do), but he was right in that any equality-obsessed society, is a society predicated upon and obsessed with surveillance. It is a fantasy, a phantom. It doesn’t exist. Ill-defined, as well, as previously said. When all is left to be as it will, organically and without interference, without disturbance, sameness shall not occur. Uniformity, rigidity, a dull, stale sort of crystallization of existence that resembles more an assembly line than life, shall not happen. Only when an outside presence comes into play, shall egalitarianism come to fruition.

This disbelief in egalitarianism, however, has nothing to do with ideas of “supremacy”. Supremacy relies on objective value judgments such as “better” or “worse”, both of which are entirely relative and have no basis in reality beyond the inane thoughts of individuals who might be so inclined to believe in idiotic ideas like “better” or “less” than. Supremacy is also usually used to justify all kinds of actions that I have nothing but contempt for, such as imperialism, ethnic cleansing, economic exploitation (and economics in general, especially the class/caste system), slavery, ecocide, rape/misogyny, gay bashing, and a whole host of other deplorable practices. To me, there is simply difference. And difference should be allowed to thrive and exist. Without difference, there is no freedom. A friend of mine, who is also a staunch vegan, told me that Nature eludes the idea of symmetry, of sameness. To be asymmetrical, is to be in line with Nature. Doctrines of leveling conformity are completely against Nature.

As for Flower Bomb believing vegans to be some sort of “step up” from the non-vegans, as an “evolution”, as Langer seems to characterize it, from the ones who aren’t vegan and thus are “lumped in with the rest”, I’ve never really found that to be the case with anything they’ve ever said. If anything, FB’s always been critical of elitist tendencies and forcing vegan edge on people. Rightly so. We’re not hardliners (although I must profess that I like some hardline bands). Our words shouldn’t sound like Walter Bond and Sean Muttaqi. On the flipside, just because someone is passionate about veganism, doesn’t make them an “elitist” or what have you. Humanism and the Darwinian notion that Homo Sapiens is the hot shit that deserves to be king of everything that exists because of some half-baked theories built upon progress and a Christian-like end goal to history…is, if anything, the real elitism. Not to mention, if one looks at all of the ecocide the meat/dairy industries cause, and how seriously destructive and torturous they are, then I’d say being vegan is the way to go if one is, in fact, anti authoritarian and anti exploitation. Contrary to what Langer may be thinking, me, FB, and Ria are not vegan FSU here to beat up all the meat eaters (although I have zero problem hunt sab or meat sab of any kind, and if you’re a butcher or hunter, you deserve a good ass kicking, because let’s face it…they aren’t doing that out of need; I can almost guarantee it, since most hunting these days is trophy hunting done purely for money and bravado). Though I’m going to be frank…they do get on my last damn nerve. I should know; I live amongst them, and have to deal with them day-in, and day-out. We aren’t vegan Slapshot, ready to go up to random grocery shoppers and slap steaks outta their hands…not yet, anyway. I definitely wouldn’t mind spoiling the carcasses they’re going to munch on later, just so they couldn’t have ‘em on their plates. Carnists are usually macho dicks overtaken by the need to prove how tough and “manly” are, I’m sure even Langer would agree, and they need to be called on their bullshit. They need to be reminded of all the consequences of their lifestyle choices, even the ones they hadn’t considered, and be shown how truly deep meat-eating goes. What they support has a whole slew of reasons to condemn it in the strongest terms. Hunters and butchers and cow-milkers and animal breeders and all those other fucking people? As far as I’m concerned, they can go die. What they do on a daily basis is inexcusable, and if they did what they do to animals, to people? There’d be uproar on a massive scale. But because animals are the victims, we’re told to not give a damn. And yet, we vegan individualists are the supposed “elitists”. Gimme a fuckin’ break…

Let me be the first to say: I am an individualist. A passionate, deeply individualistic sort of person, alright? Collectivism? Fuck all of that. Damn all manner of collectivism that seeks to make individuals ignore their own true will…and that likely condemns most forms of collectivism, doesn’t it? If not all of them outright. Hell, sometimes I am so passionately individualist and anti-collectivist, it causes friction. Usually between me and the reds, and those sympathetic to the reds. To the point where quite a few of them likely want to challenge me to fisticuffs over it. I know one in California damn sure does. Many will rant and rave about how individualism is pure selfishness. Maybe, maybe not. It can be, no doubt. However, one could easily make the case that collectivism is wholly selfish, rabid in its hatred for any and all heterogeneity, determined to crush whatever does not conform, and absorb it instead, molding it exactly however the collectivism that is taking place demands it manifest its existence.

Being an individualist, however, doesn’t mean that I have to agree with someone’s thoughts on a matter. In fact, I may very well have an intense dislike of their opinions regarding a certain subject. I’d say that’s the hallmark of being an individualist. When two unique beings come into contact who feel one way or another about this or that, there is bound to be conflict. There is bound to be “friction”. Yet, the uniques go their own way, do they not? Be it on amicable or amorous terms, they will continue to travel down whatever path it is they have chosen. Hardly anyone is being “condemned” here, I don’t think. Seems more like a disagreement of opinion. And if the disagreement turns a little squirrelly, well, hey, we’re all passionate, hard-headed people. It doesn’t mean we can’t “live and let live”, despite difference of opinion. Maybe the difference of opinion causes a permanent rift. So what? That’s “policing” or “condemnation”? If you want to live how you wish, be my guest.

On the other hand…if you’re going to talk about being against speciesism, and against the engine of civilization that wages an all out war on life as we know it, yet knowingly participate in something that tramples on all other species with sadistic glee and malicious intent, then I’m sorry, but you’re going to sound like a jackass in my eyes. It’d be one thing if you’re not all aware of how deep the rabbit hole goes, and you’re just chowing down on meat because that is all you know, or were at least vegetarian, or, hell, you were of the mindset of “well, I’m getting there, but it hasn’t happened yet”, being at least sympathetic and open to veganism, then hey, I could live with that. Because at least you’re trying, and at least you recognize there is an issue to be addressed. However, to be so hostile towards veganism, and the idea of being vegan? As a self-proclaimed “anti-speciest”? That makes zero sense in my eyes at all. Meat and dairy are genocidal apparatuses of civilization, and anyone who thinks they deserve to still be standing in any capacity, supports civilization to at least some degree.

Now, I’m under no illusion that all unique individuals are worthy of care, which is a stance Langer takes (note that I do not include Langer in this category; merely making a point). I’d argue the opposite, actually. There are many, many, many individuals I think we could do without. Nazis, rapist, pedophiles, wifebeaters, fagbashers, child abusers, cops, politicians, animal abusers, hunters, butchers, rich folks, a whole cavalcade of deplorable types who I would not be sad to see go whatsoever. Do I condemn them, and what they are? Sure, I’d say I do. Perhaps my aggression towards them might be argued to be a kind of “repression”. But I see it as self-defense. The kinds of human waste I just named are likely to be against the individual (human and non-human alike) being allowed to go their own way, to live how they wish, and instead be subject to another’s will. Another’s thoughts, desires, etc. From my perspective, all of these people are authoritarians. Fascists, even. Wholly deserving of such a heavy insult. Do they deserve care? Absolutely not. Not to me, anyway. All they’d do is impede my freedom, my liberation, my desires for what I think anarchy and total unrestriction are. I understand wanting to extend that care as much as possible, however…let’s be realistic at the same time. This system, this Leviathan, is violent against us. Always has been, always will be.

From what I have gathered, many anarchists have a limited view of what individualism is. Many individualists of an anarchist variety only see humans as being capable of living as unique beings. And their concept of “living as unique beings” can often come down to a depressingly shallow economic question: how free, in (insert economic ideology here), are they able to act? It’s entirely humanistic. Based on the Cartesian-esque principals that only humans are rational agents, and all else are mere soulless automatons. Put here on Earth for our use, our pleasure, our needs and wants. Standing-reserve, auxiliary resources to be gobbled up later by the hand of “technique” and repurposed into something else. I say boulderdash to all of this. Everything that is alive, from blades of grass to giant trees, from honeybees to great whales, has a will. A will that manifests uniquely. What Crowley called a “true will”. Being is experienced in a myriad of manners by all that contains the chaotic, rambunctious, hectic, incomprehensible ways of the ol’ cosmic pulse. To deny this to other lifeforms, is to be thoroughly anti-individualist. It just so happens that things like animal agriculture and the meat industry are denying the individuality of flora, and especially fauna. Meat/dairy consumption as it is perpetrated in our society, as it is propped up and upheld and pushed and ruthlessly employed, is totalitarian in every aspect. An engine of domination, of total control and authority. How can one claim to be anti-capitalist and anti-slavery, yet say nothing or do nothing against the meat/dairy industry? How can one claim to be anti-fascist, when the slaughterhouses and the farms and the slash-and-burn teams are still at large? Contrary to what Mr. Gelderloos says, that hack, veganism, for me, isn’t just some trendy consumerist venture for me to do after seeing some liberal friends of mine partake in it. It’s born out of the same mentality I employ in regards to not having a car, not buying a bunch of useless shit, not always paying for what I obtain from stores, hanging out in Nature as much as possible, not owning pets, not paying for movies, not getting intoxicated, etc., etc.

Again, I reiterate this: I do not have a problem with Langer. Never have. And I respect quite a bit of what he’s written. I don’t mean to condemn, I just think Langer’s got, to put it vulgarly, some shit mixed up. Got the wrong idea, if you will.

I’ve said my piece.

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WE’RE FLYING HIGH (WE’RE WATCHING THE WORLD PASS US BY)

If there’s one thing I cannot stand…it’s a lack of creativity, a lack of originality. And if there’s something else I cannot stand, is uniformity. Where are both found? In things concocted for the purposes of massification and machinification, which are always ruthlessly and violently imposed. Because if order isn’t there to be found, then anarchy reigns. Ergo, a lack of control, a lack of a grasp on what would otherwise organically develop without outside influence, a lack of things meddled with, corralled and coerced about as a result of some jackass having “a vision”.

Perhaps where this phenomenon of boring predictability manufactured to keep dullards happy and outcasts, dreamers of the dark and dangerous, sidelined, is most obvious (for those who are just entering the realm of what is dubbed “radical thought”, anyway) and therefore most glaring, most ripe for vicious and savage critiqur, is in regards to most of humanity’s views on gender and sexuality.

Cisgendered, heterosexual society and its standards serve to impose a bland, levelling, conformist, dull, unimaginative mode of existence upon everyone and everything, and despite what its root word, “hetero”, implying difference, may say, it in fact loathes any kind of sexuality or gendered/non-gendered feelings, practices, or experiences that lie outside of its all-too-arrogant norm, proudly proclaiming itself, in the vein of the Abrahamic father who spawned this accursed thing, to be the one truth, the one universal definition of “correct”, “just”, “righteous”, “moral”, etc. Many of those caught in the trap laid by swindlers who constructed the foundations for this disgrace long ago will balk at these notions, saying that it’s all nonsensical ramblings, that it’s really the gays that wish to make everything all the same, and that heterosexuality and being cisgendered are the norm because that is just the way things are, unable to picture much else outside of the stifling reality that has suffocated their minds and hearts from birth, too vapid to even make the attempt to break out of the mold.

Where heterosexuality and cisgendered ideals have really just one option, one supposedly “right” way to live, one possibility, queerness is infinity. It is chaos, a boundless array of possibilities. It can be everything and nothing (I mean these two in the most literal sense), as well as everything in between. It is unbound and unchained, broken loose from all of the fragile fetters that were born from the brains of those frightened by the reality of how things really are (namely, unknowable and unnamable lawlesslessness, pandemonium). Obviously, this conflicts quite heavily with this marauding monster called civilization, which parades around like an abusive, meatheaded drunkard, bashing, maiming, screaming, eating, and crushing everything that dares step in front of its path. Civilization desires, nay, requires, order. It is aroused most fervently by the squashing of dissent, of the fearsome other. Oh, how it shirks in terror at the mere prospect of an other. And so, it must root out any possibility of an other existing to begin with. For an other shows that it is failing, that it can’t ever succeed, and will remain a utopian pipedream for all time.

How dreadful this is, to Leviathan.

Of course, chaos is useless to civilization. All chaos does is seek to break it up, to wither it away, keep it from ever fulfilling its wishes. For chaos is natural, and civilization is very much not natural. Civilization can’t utilize chaos, because chaos, by definition, isn’t able to be bottled up and leashed. It’s never ending, always changing, forever thrashing around and escaping through whatever containment trying to box it in, leaking out and pouring out.

Now, you may ask, what does this have to do with queerness? Dear reader, it’s very simple: queerness, being chaotic, is not at all able to be reconciled with the squarely utilitarian, efficiency-minded mentality of civilization and its supporters. Cisgendered, heterosexual norms serve to keep civilization going, to keep it upright, instead of causing it to fall apart. These two things maintain order and growth, more so when they are actively propagated. Fostering progress, advancement, linear, upward development, and bolster economic activity, property, the circulation and continuation of money, etc. Queerness, if anything, actively rebels against growth and order, especially since (forgive me for stressing this part so much and repeating it) it is chaotic. Makes sense as to why civilization, since its very incarnation, has always been against the queers.

And if the pinnacle of civilization is to be found in the teachings of Jehovah/Yahweh/Allah, which is also, coincidentally (or maybe not coincidentally), a deity that champions heterosexuality and being cis, as well as law and order, progress (called millenarianism/the end of history), mercantilism, economic absurdities, and all kinds of nonsense, then it becomes all too apparent in my eyes why being queer is associated with Lucifer/Satan, the devil, deviancy and insurrection against Jesus and the cop-angels of Heaven.

Something I think queers should actively embrace.

Does it sound conspiratorially minded? A bit kooky, a bit strange? Yeah, I wouldn’t disagree.

But if one really thinks about it…

Am I wrong?

I WANNA KILL SAM

It’s your land, is that right?

By what decree? Who gave it to you, for you to cut up and vivisect and tear, and kill off folks who already lived there, then say they don’t deserve to be there, declaring them outsiders from their own homes? From what source, were you given a “divine right”, to purge the wildlife, flora and fauna alike, so that you may build your grotesque empire of life-denialism upon the bones and blood of those who you deemed to be inferior because you hate difference and loathe what doesn’t conform to the inanity of your false god?

By what logic, are you able to justify sectioning off the Mother, splitting her up like the atoms you split to one day vaporize cities? Because your skin color says it is your very duty? So as to reap the benefits of sheep who are easily swindled into playing your game for you? Or that they weren’t making use of it, but now you will (making use of it being code word for raping, pillaging, poisoning, murdering, exterminating, etc., etc.,)? To foster a shaky culture whose foundations are built on the ideals of hard labor, consuming and producing, mindless activity suited for drones and robots, not the living, breathing, and feeling? Protective of the “riches” hidden there, eager to start up another wrecking ball, another belching engine of disastrous intentions?

By what delusion do you think that all of this is yours, and yours alone? How did you come to the conclusion that it can all be doled in whichever way you please, to whoever you want? And if they don’t make that imaginary list, right, then clearly they don’t deserve to be there, correct? Push ‘em out, yes? Your fake little numbers weren’t branded onto them in this specific area from birth, so, I guess they can’t step foot here, huh? What, y’all don’t like it when cattle from different ranches interact? Silly me, how could I forget; you think them worse than the walking meat piles you sell into slavery, don’t you? Don’t you?

By what array of prophetic visions were you able to decide that them merely marching onto land that is far more precious than price tags, names, zoning regulations, imaginary lines ignored by the smarter non-human relatives we trample on so callously, blood that calls itself better than any other shade of red, entitles you to beating them down, locking then up, abusing them, hunting them for sport, and declaring them worthy of only constructing the Leviathan you masturbate to in your head of dull dreams and unimaginative aspirations? Especially since most of them were hear first…but you don’t want everyone else to know that, right? And if they did, well, those savages didn’t deserve it, did they?

By what grand mishap did you declare movement and connection to the ground ones walks upon itself, via the partitioning of an entire world, was a crime, that expression of freedom in its purest form?

It’s your land…is that right?

LET’S GET FREE

Curiously, there are those who seem to believe that the totalitarian doctrine of capitalism is even remotely compatible with the ways of anarchy and individualism. Who foolishly seem to think that capitalism is a path to freedom, rather than a grave hindrance, a monumental obstacle, a roadblock that stands in the way of liberation. Nothing, nothing at all, could be any further from the truth. Capitalism seeks to crush both the tenets of anarchy, and individualism. Whoever deems it to be a friend of either, is wrong, and idiotic. Allow me to explain.

You see, capitalism’s so-called “individualism” is decidedly non-existent. It’s actually quite collectivistic. For starters, the economic model of capitalism, being a many-tendriled menace, requires as many participants, actors, if you will, in its grandiose stage play, demanding that all be subsumed into its gullet as possible, so as to allow for maximum growth and efficiency. The more participants, the more opportunities to bolster, profit, produce, consume, etc. Its entire goal is to level flat everything, steamrolling it all until there is only robotic machines making and taking, and nothing else. No cultures, no art, no thought or belief, no fun, no joy, no love, no passion, no ways of life that are different from each other, no myths or tales or stories. Only the endless, computational repetition of number-crunching and calculation. This can clearly be seen by the fact that capitalism, throughout its existence, has been recklessly and miserably imperialistic, expansionistic, wanting to stamp its footprint into every location on Earth. Once it achieved this, it could lasso every throat into being dragged inches and inches closer to its blades, to chop their heads off. Like cattle being led into a slaughterhouse. You have no choice but to allow capitalism into your life, into your world, because if you don’t, then capitalism will kill everything you care about outright, rather than slowly, through the insidious façade of “enrichment” and “prosperity”. The mechanism cannot allow for you to be free of it, and it never will. Opt out? There is no opting out. You’re in it, and the only way out is a mass grave.

Not to mention, concepts central to capitalism, such as businesses, “private property”, etc., all require large, concentrated masses to uphold, either through swindling, intimidation, or indoctrination. To collectively believe in them, and hold them to be true, as well as support these mammoth constructs. And, because capitalism treats these geists as absolutely real and unquestionable, you are required, out of a sense of duty, to your boss and fellow man, to adhere to them, to capitalism’s “law and order”. Many libertarians claim to be against the scourge of democracy, but it seems to me, rather, that free marketeerism, with its reliance on collectives and collectivism, the submission of the individual to the wants and whims of the many-too-many (after all, the populace that comprises the free market shall decide everything, and you, the individual, get no sort of say in your fate), its spiritual egalitarianism (everyone is equally a producer/consumer, capable of working and buying, and the only difference is someone’s bank account balance), and its populist message, signify that it is, in fact, the perfection of democracy. Besides, no “free market” is ever really free…

To piggy back off of all this, capitalism favors regimentation, rigidity, uniformity, conformity, homogeneity. It is often said capitalism leads to variety and difference; nothing could be further from the truth. Capitalism’s much akin to a black hole. Everything gets sucked into it, mashed together until it’s a hodge-podge of grey, undifferentiated material to be used later, and then shat out as a line of identically made products ready to be thrown away by beings who could not possibly afford them or find much use in them (outside of coercion and conditioning).

Which brings me to a second point: capitalism discourages any sort of “independence”, any sort of “self-reliance”. You might think to yourself, “well, capitalism encourages all of this atomism and disintegration”, and yes, capitalism, because of its uncanny ability to stretch itself thinner and thinner until it eventually starts to fall apart and tear at the seams, going berserk as it desperately tries to recuperate, clinging to dear life, does indeed lead to disintegration and alienation. How could it not? Out of a desire for a war of all against all, it simply manufactures one. Out of a desire for might to be right, it makes it so. Out of a desire of contracts, it turns everything into a binding document, from your first breath, to your last, pained heave. However…because of it forcibly welding so many things together in order to sculpt its vision of a grand, economic, materialistic Leviathan, the supposed “self reliance” capitalism offers is quite nonexistent. Like previously mentioned, capitalism discourages the “dropping out” mentality, of simply saying “no thanks”. Why? Because it needs you. It needs your time, your body, your mind, your soul, your heart, it needs it all. Denying it this starves the beast, causing it to throw a tantrum, like a petulant infant. First it will tempt you with promises of luxury, power, and comfort, saying that, “oh, well, you must rely on this, and everything born from it, and everything bound to it”. Then it shall mock, ridicule, deride, denigrate. Finally, there shall be scorn, hate, violence, a war to be waged, and much tyrannizing practiced. Eating you alive in the process. All because it thirsts for profit, for green, for cash.

Consent, it should be clear, is no part of capitalism. Quite hilarious, since libertarianism (allegedly) places so much emphasis on consent, although when it comes down to it, libertarianism will throw consent out of the window for its own ridiculous ends. No, capitalism does not give a shit about consent. It doesn’t ask, and it damn sure doesn’t take no for an answer. Either it gets what it wants, or, if one denies it, then one’s throat is slit. Capitalism, at heart, is the ideology of rape. And even many libertarians eventually realize that capitalism requires force, that it requires a sort of…how shall we say…predatory, jackbooted implementation. From Hoppe’s desire to create a yellow and black, national socialist coalition, to Rothbard’s notorious love affair with cops and wanting to exterminate the homeless, we know where libertarianism truly leads. And it is not towards anarchy…

Now for the connections between capitalism, centralization, and statism. All of the aforementioned characteristics lead out should make one realize that capitalism doesn’t lead to decentralization, to smallness, but rather bigness, and a concentration in one particular area. It’s much akin to Perlman’s conception of the Leviathan that takes the form of an octopus. Many arms will have a stranglehold in many areas, but they all lead back to the same source, the same body, and feed the same mouth. Quite like how a railroad network extends in all directions, but they all congregate, eventually, into one spot. All roads, in capitalism, thanks to its need for accumulation, for hoarding, for an incessant hunger that manifests in a never-ending quest for acquisition, lead back to an ugly head, and a cold, coal-like heart, with a mouth that spews toxic waste all over the land, unleashing noxious breath that only serves to increase the growing number of dead left in its wake.

As you can see, this all leads to a state. To enforce capitalism’s rules and regulations (because it will foster many, even “anarchist” capitalists, these idiotic libertarians, have so many stipulations attached), police forces, laws, courts, judges and juries and executioners, prisons, will have to be constructed and mandated. And because of capitalism’s rapacious appetite, it will need to tax, to rob and commit theft from whoever’s caught between its teeth, stuck in the gaping maw, about to be forever swallowed into its gullet. Who shall do all of this? Rulers, of course. States. Monolithic entities that eventually become the sole carriers of the sword, the ones with the monopoly on violence, and says to all, “obey or die”. Like all states, it will grow to enormous proportions. Even libertarians will find themselves having to concede this point, assuming their logic is taken to the conclusion. You see it in David Friedman, Lew Rockwell, and perhaps even further than either combined, Insula Qui.

In conclusion, libertarianism, “anarchist capitalism”, is an oxymoron. A phantom, a fraud, a severe case of dupery and con artistry. Anarchy and capitalism, they cannot coexist. This has been proven time and time again, both by history, and the proponents of both (as well as by the jackasses who try to create a synthesis between the two).

NIHILISTISCHEN

It would appear that the devil keeps the company of those we least expect, often times those we most revere/adore, and we should be grateful for that. How sad would it be if all of the greatest heroes were children of God. In fact, I’d wager half, nay, even most, were not. For how could one be considered a hero, and live by the code of the Nazarene? I repeat, I think it is something to be celebrated, not downtrodden and depressed by, that the greats were not, in fact, the disciples of Christ, but rather…the disciples of Satan itself. For Hell contains all of the most interesting and vibrant characters. Heaven contains mere studious dullards and cowardly wimps; the types who did nothing, said nothing, and were nothing. Hell is home to those who separated themselves from the masses, the breathing graveyard that is “the people”. Possessed by a Luciferian impulse, even if they proclaimed otherwise. Eternal rebels, never content to follow along with the whims of the sleepwalkers, the dullards, the idiots and jackasses who didn’t dream (and probably were incapable of such a thing in the first place). Naturally, they were doomed, on this Earth, to be reviled. Becoming the hated of the world. After all, history’s heroes were no doubt deemed heretics, receiving death threats, scowls, and scornful words, oftentimes condemned to The Pit by the all-too-human who groveled at the feet of a meek sand-walker.

But there are two in particular, whom I hold in very high regard, that, while coming from the colorful and confusing world of American Protestantism, and claiming to be admirers of Christ, even Jehovah; who, by their own admission, owe much of their thought to the words spewed out from the pages of that wretched Holy Book, I would argue, owe their thought process to something entirely different.

I am, of course, speaking of two literary giants, both of them forever seared into the written canon of the United States, worthy members of the few from this despicable country I consider worth admiring in a large, overflowing capacity…or in any capacity, for that matter. These two men are none other than Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Henry David Thoreau. A pair as quintessentially “American” as baseball, capitalism, the hot dog, and crowded centers of urban filth and decay.

Yes, one may raise an eyebrow at the idea that the great Thoreau and the mighty Emerson being…well, not men of God. Whilst certainly not being drab and dull Puritans/Calvinists who thought life was only work, suffering, toil, and merely waiting around to die, sharing not the absurd policeman mentalities of America’s founding theology, not at all, both professed a love for their idea of “God” and Christ, counting them as inspirations for their outlooks. Perhaps both would even balk at my conclusions. These men, men of the devil. I know, it sounds absurd. As absurd as saying that animals should be fear alongside humans. But dear reader, allow me to explain.

See, Thoreau and Emerson, for one thing, were staunch individualists. Divorced from the herd-mentality of Abrahamic religion, its populism and love of democracy, its statism and grotesque love of all things authoritarian, levelling, flattening, and crushing. They extolled self-reliance, independence, the lone outlaw against the idiotic and boorish crowd. Especially Thoreau, for he lived it, whilst Emerson laid the groundwork, so that Thoreau could put it into practice, and expand it even further. No trace of love for the mindless sleepwalkers exists within either’s words, their works. At best, they look upon them with pity, with a certain level of disappointment. Why can the rest not cast aside the shackles of society and state? They aren’t ready. Perhaps they never will be. Both admit this, though not so explicitly and bluntly. Duty? Ha, what an absurd notion to this pair. Obligation? To hell with it. Thoreau and Emerson were baffled by such notions. Such values the Abrahamic trio applaud and praise, demanding that one surrender themselves to the mob, and be one with it, never to leave it, sacrificing yourself for it. It’s the ultimate measure of your worth. Egoists, Emerson and Thoreau were. Ego death, the three-headed hydra of Yahweh wishes for. Kill your Self, they demand.

Another aspect of both of these great men that puts them squarely on the left hand path is their love and adoration for Nature. If one knows their theology, they know that Yahweh/Allah has a disdain for the material world. Calling it corrupt and impure, a fowl mockery of existence, and says only his kingdom is the way. Going so far as to entrust it to the most destructive and habitually suicidal species, merely because they resemble him (and we do…but this is not a laudable sort of thing). He has no care at all for Nature, for our Mother Gaia. Thoreau and Emerson, however…they see the beauty, the wonder, in Gaia. Rightly, they realized our Earth was sacred, worthy of being protected and cherished. An assault on Gaia was an assault on the divine, an assault on the wondrousness of existence, on liberty itself. Gaia was to be worshipped, not devastated and destroyed, not made into a mere tool of man’s wretched needs and wants. The two also recognized that within the embrace of Nature, true freedom was found. It is the only anarchy, the only way into the throes of liberation. It cannot be found in civilization, in society, in the confines of the suffocating environment known as “Leviathan”. Emerson and Thoreau were no humanists, and that puts them squarely at odds with the Abrahamic tradition.

Of course, we cannot also sweep aside the nihilism that lurks in the hearts of Emerson and Thoreau. Good, bad, truth, lies, of what use were they to this dynamic duo? Nay, they were hardly real to this pair. Both were heretics, immoralists, by that time’s standards, and even by today’s. Both resisted much, believing little, to quote Whitman. The maxim, “all things are nothing to me!”, from their German counterpart, who may’ve never heard either of these fellows’ names, but nonetheless shared much with them, rings true in the words they wrote. But this was no Schopenhauerian nihilism, which is defeatist and shrinks away from life. No, no, Emerson and Thoreau sought to embrace the storm of life, the chaos, as cheerful and idealistic pessimists, a truly active nihilism. Finding freedom in this lack of inherent meaning. Abrahamic religion is life denying, saying a resounding “No!” to everything, whilst Thoreau and Emerson shout a clear “Yes!”. Abrahamic religion seeks to strangle life, make it vile and ugly, since it only sees it aa vile and ugly. The world, under the gaze of Yahweh/Allah, becomes monstrous, as he wishes for it to be monstrous.

Let us also not forget the anarchistic character Thoreau and Emerson possessed. Whilst Emerson was not quite fully against the state, he found government to be a tyranny, and society to be an oppressor, both in conspiracy to crush the rebel, the free thinker, with its laws, police, economies, politics, etc. No government was satisfactory in Emerson’s eyes. All of them were corrupt, and the truly admirable always bucked against the system. All of the government’s apparatuses were little else than bulldozers seeking to crush dissidents with their power-tripping ways. Same with Thoreau. Whilst Thoreau professed to not be one of the “no-government-men”, he was hardly a fan of the state. An authoritarian, Thoreau hardly was. The state, in Thoreau’s eyes, needed to be done away with, to be tossed into the wastebasket of history with plenty of other failed ideas. He considered it an out of control abomination that wanted to put a chokehold on the natural state of life, which was anarchy, and potentially snuff it out for good. There was no path to liberty within the walls of Leviathan’s stinking guts, and so Thoreau tried to escape the morbid stench, striving to leave it as far behind as possible. And can one blame him? Thoreau was an anarchist in all but name. And not one of those idiotic libertarians, nor an “anarcho-communist”. But one who despised civilization, who saw to the root of the problem, the core of the dilemma that plagued our existence for millennia, and recognized that nothing worth keeping was found in its grinding bowels. Especially since Thoreau was a passionate lover of Nature. Abrahamic religion, however, is hardly anarchist. Monarchs aplenty in that tradition, with examples of men in the Bible ordained by God to rule with an iron fist. Passages saying that submission to disgusting Rome was encouraged. Quotations encouraging the subjugation of women and other races, ideas which Thoreau and Emerson, staunch abolitionists and admirers of women, found horrid. Yahweh is a totalitarian who watches your every move. If you disobey, to the fiery depths you go. But what would be so bad about that? After all, Satan is far more interesting and worthy of consideration.

So you see, Emerson and Thoreau are not men of God, not at all. Maybe they knew this, but, being in the conformist shitheap that is the US, had to carefully cloak their language in something more acceptable (and naturally, were still, and are still, persecuted for it). To be different in America, is to be indecent. And America hates anyone who doesn’t stoop to its mobocracy. Least of all, the one with a cross stamped into it. To call them members of the right hand path, would be a sorry mistake. It is evident that they were anything but.

CORPSE OF DECADENCE

What would they know about life? What would they know about living? Stuck within the confines of ivory towers they built for themselves, living exclusively within the lap of luxury, they know nothing of life, or living. Life is struggle, life is joy, life is passionate, life is full of fear, mystery, danger, wonder, and a sense of destiny. These characters, they sorely lack a desire for such things. They’ve become dulled, any drive pulverized and crushed. And for those born into this, they never will. Nor will their so-called “friends”, who are just as decadent as they are.

Cowardly materialism, the way of the Enlightenment, of the rationalist, has led us to this point. Where mercantilists are the ones with the final say. Who spread their tendrils everywhere, seeking to occupy every corner of the globe. Nothing has value beyond the monetary amount it can be acquired for or auctioned off for. Rope everyone and everything into their homogenized dystopia. Uniform, steamrolled, crushed under the weight of sacks of currency! Can it make me rich? Then I do not desire it! After all, as the liberal forefathers declared (and you know who they are), all can be reduced to economics, and these are the only things worth giving a rat’s ass about. Spirituality lies murdered in the gutter, and its corpse propped up in a carnival show, drawing curious faces for prices much higher than whatever pocket change they fish out for the exhibit.

Damn the higher causes! All that matters is the cries of the stomach! Oh humanity, do look upon what your desire for more reasons to your wallet has wrought! And look what your desires for bigger wallets to stuff your bigger paychecks in has given us! Your minds swim in the intestines.

Their minds have turned to soup, melted in their skulls, neurons having stopped firing long ago, the chemistry of their mind washed away and dulled. They can’t feel. They can’t think. They exist in a state of permanent autopilot. Green heroin is pumped throughout their veins, stuck in a state of pure euphoria and bliss that has turned whatever cognitive faculties they may’ve had to utter rot. Clouded eyes can only see the value of colored paper and minted coins, nothing else. Life is only useful in that provides more of the drug, more of the dopamine rush. Addicts on thrones, they are! And you are loathesome scum if you dare suggest you don’t want to be a part of the rat race, to be crushed under the iron heel of financiers, bankers, business people, and investors, let alone take actions against such types, or try to exit their clutches!

Their bodies are weak and soft. The mere thought of exercise, of putting the flesh and bone to good use, frightens them. Soft, scared of the world beyond their painted walls, plastered with art that they only value based on price, and not on quality. They are weak. Those who they deem to be “below” them, these false gods, they call botched. But it is they, who are botched! Miserly failures of existence. A waste of flesh and blood! Take away the gold and the diamonds, the palaces and fancy automobiles, immerse them in the state of nature, in the natural order, and see how they fare. We shall see who is weak, then…

Their very existence cheapens reality itself. All they can care for is whatever costs the most. Plutocrats, these meatbags. The rule of money, the reduction of all things to products for consumption, the decimation of culture, of any high and mighty ideal, the evisceration of Nature, the trampling of diversity, real diversity, and not mere brands to choose from, the utilitarian, use-driven philosophy that accompanies their way of life, and their urge towards baseness, towards the lowest common denominator. It is all they know! All they will ever know! What they relish in can only present this fetid, detrimental reality. The nightmare we are currently entrapped in. Human wouldn’t be a fitting term for them, I think. They think with their purse. The dollar does the speaking for them. Not that them using their mouths would be any better! They spew the verbal equivalent of sewage waste.

Our society declares them to be gods. To society, I laugh mockingly at their declarations. These mere impersonators of men and women, for to call them the real thing would be an insult to the actual species, are far from worthy to stand next to the likes of Wotan, Krishna, Mictlantecuhtli, Hekate, or Pan! They aren’t even mortal heroes.

They speak of us as weaklings? Very well. Let them revel in their stupidities. It matters not to me, or anyone else with a healthy outlook, what they happen to think. Nor do I particularly feel bad for the fools who lick their boots. This is what they wanted. What they begged for, pleaded for. What they continue to support. What their “champions” uphold with great pride, even the ones who claim otherwise. And if it’s what they want, then they deserve to get it good and hard. They made this bed, and now they must lie in it.

TOTAL WAR

Forget the mass of humanity. Forget the concerns for mankind. Forget the pleas and cries of the international and national…thing…that is called “the people” (I reject the notions that it is alive, as some may say, certain deluded individuals), that everyone everywhere claims to speak on behalf of, for no one gets anywhere without their consent (although the consent is usually superficial; the mutuality is a farce, as you might ascertain from opening a history book, for make no mistake, nothing, and I do mean nothing, is done on behalf of “the people”). Forget the appeals to my biological kinship with my fellow persons. Forget the emotional appeals, for I have no particular goodwill towards the lot of man. There’s nothing for me there, and I doubt there ever will be. There are exceptions, and those who are, I cherish you deeply, and greatly. Let it be known that, by me, you are loved. As for the rest? I can’t say I am compelled to sympathize or want the affections of the majority. For I do not identify with them, and I do not ally myself with their causes, their wants, their needs, their desires, their fears, their worries, and their likes and dislikes. Why should I count myself among willing slaves, who so gladly serve selfish masters? Seems like a terrible idea to me.

This is what I want.

I want unbridled, unrestricted freedom. And I shall decide what that means, for me. Where those limits lie, if I acknowledge any. What I fight for, and what I fight against. I only stop where I may decide to stop, and I shall go only where I wish to. I will use whatever spirits, geists, that I find pleasing to me, if I shall utilize any at my disposal. And I shall determine, for myself, what form it takes (and the material means used to establish it), what it happens to manifest as, for the world is a canvas, the pages for a novel, and my life shall be poetry, it shall be art. The pools of inspiration it draws from. The various sources of inspiration I look to, as I realize my will, in its fullest potential, for that is all any of us can do, and that is all we may be said to have the “right” to do. If it is not the same tomorrow, as it is today, or yesterday, then be not surprised, for stagnancy and consistency are old and for old men, while youth and renewal and contradiction, that is the way of things, the true way of things. With whoever I want, those fellow vagabonds, if I can somehow manage to seek them out, if their vision, whilst not the same physically, is similar in spirit, and I repeat, with whoever I want, I shall associate with. If anyone shall decide to join me, so be it. If they refuse to, or even oppose, then I cannot blame or stop them, though I shall try to make it happen nonetheless. They can come and go as they please. Do as thou wilt, my friends. Do as thou wilt.

It shall be in a most beautiful, natural setting. Overgrown grass and healthy flowers instead of filthy sidewalks and streets. Tall, muscular, vibrant, imposing trees in place of concrete squares and drab, wooden structures. Soil for my bed. Lakes and ponds as my bathtubs. The breeze as my air conditioning. Wild fauna living their lives to the fullest, rather than drab, human clones, pompously strutting about. The sun and the moon taking the place of putrid streetlamps and streetlights. Money and moneyed interests will be gone, evaporated like mildew in the morning sun. No more will the economy be a deciding factor in anything. It’ll be back-to-the-land. However, the land, and its inhabitants, shall not be dominated. Harmony shall be achieved, where everything has its place. Nature is not our bitch. We are Nature’s bitch. We’d do well to remember that eternal fact.

This is not for anyone’s sake, outside of those whom I am emotionally attached to, and appreciative of, and love dearly. That is the answer to those critics who may be suggesting I am trying to be some sort of savior, some sort of messiah, striving for a kind of “greater good”, where all is restricted out of necessity. This should shut the conservative cowards and idiotic reactionaries up. Might I suggest you go back to the office and the church, and keep your noses out of what you couldn’t possibly understand. And if they cry the leftist-sounding cries of “egoism” and “selfishness”, then I shall throw their hypocrisy back in their faces, eviscerating their weak, pitiful arguments. I am what they practice, without all of the empty justifications they use to synthesize their contradictions, rendering them schizo . Nor shall I deny that I balk at tradition, for their “traditions” are false, and not perennial in the slightest, not worthy of the allegedly “primordial” importance they give to them. To put tradition, real tradition, and the ways of the Cross, Crescent Moon, or Star of David in the same sentence…would be the most absurd of errors. They are flimsy, just like their followers. Born of an age and period most foul, most absurd, and most deadly. And if economic concerns are raised towards me even once, I shall burn the nearest bank to the ground. Fuck your dismal science. I wipe my ass with your dollar bills. I might set your house on fire next.

Speaking of the left, they will no doubt decry me as some kind of decrepit miscreant. Unconcerned with the working class (I do not deny this, for to have something in common with someone based on our similar wages, is as hollow as having something in common with someone based on race, or gender, or geographical location), who are stuck in a slumber, lulled to sleep day in and day out, no sign of awakening in them to be found, and who reject whatever does not fit their mold, for they are ignorant and just as bourgeois as the bourgeois themselves, having adopted their standards. Yes, the rampant oppression and enslavement is disconcerting and hard to watch, but when they let it happen to them, and make no attempt, none at all, to alleviate themselves of it, can you really feel so sorry for them? They’d rather wallow in their sorry state, in their victim status, than assert their will, take that power, and light everything on fire, like they should. To answer the inevitable question, no, I shall not sit around idly, waiting for a revolt to magically happen, and then strive for my liberation then. It’ll never come, and if it does, as history has shown, it will not come via your side. They wouldn’t risk being ostracized and becoming an outcast for the mere sake of principles, in the meantime. Their liberty, whenever that comes, is not my liberty. As I’m sure they’ll also find out, I do not wish to make work more enjoyable or bearable, either. Those are two concepts that cannot be reconciled. I do not want to have a stake in the factory I work in. I want the factory razed to the ground. Forget about equality, too, while you’re at it, dear reds. I will gladly resist any attempts to level, to make me one with the herd. It won’t happen. I’d sooner fight you the way commie scum are supposed to be fought (I’d gladly make Joseph McCarthy look like a goddamn socialist, if need be), than let you pull a fast one on me.

Some may deem me a madman. But this is a mad world we live in. Everything is topsy-turvy. A crooked, messy hodgepodge we live in. All that we want to save or resurrect is dead and gone. We’re living in the shadow of a dead god, and the new ones give us nothing at all but misery and strife. Therefore, why not embrace the chaos and madness? After all, chaos is the natural state of life. Life is not orderly and pretty. If it is, it is not in any way the human mind would be able to grasp it. It is gruesome, violent, and uncertain, yet this is also what makes it beautiful, joyous, and exciting.

I want that thrill to come back, while the powers that be want to choke the life out of life itself, until everything is as drab and dull as everything else.

I’d go as far as to say that I, and others like myself, are the only “sane” ones left (forget sanity, however, for it was invented to keep the nonconformist from being a threat to the easily frightened mob, by quietly tucking them away in a dark corner), and everyone else is crazy.

I GET UP (IN THE MORNING TO THE BEAT OF THE DRUMS)

Oh, how I envy you, bourgeois man. Mass-man. Mr. Satisfied.

Yes, it is true. I feel a pang of jealousy when I see you. I’m sure such a remark would just send that infinite self-assuredness soaring into great depths, wouldn’t it? Fill your wretched face with the most smug of grins, wouldn’t it?

But it is all for the reasons you would not consider.

You are not troubled by…anything. Because you do not think. A philistine, you are. I would contend you are incapable. And because of this, you are not disturbed by anything. You live in an idyllic bubble, pretending as if the world starts and ends with your little, perfectly manicured front lawn, surrounded by a white picket fence. As a result, you go about your day merrily, thoroughly unaware of the horror lurking beyond your gated communities.

Of course, whenever something shatters that stifling dogma of yours, breaches the containment of your perfect world, with its perfect system of bile-producing nausea, sends it crashing into oblivion, then the madness sets in. And you retreat even harder back into that shell, don’t you? Otherwise, the psychosis would set in. You would go mad from the revelation.

And since you do not think, you therefore, do not feel. You may play at emotion, yes. Imitate it, wear some sort of mask that resembles the words we’ve prescribed to various feelings. But I don’t think you really…experience true joy, or sadness, or fear, or love. It may either be beyond your capabilities, or it is something you won’t allow for yourself. Either way, you don’t really feel.

Since you are not prone to either thinking or feeling, you are able to blend in. Be perceived as what the mobocracy calls…normal. Perfectly indistinguishable from the assembly line of persons that the death machine that is our current mode of existence manufactures day in and day out. The matrix is something you’re perfectly content to live within. You never unplugged from it, so you never know the utter wrongness of it. Nay, you don’t even come close to the edges of it, you vulgar beast.

Everything which you champion is a thorough rejection of the real.

Due to your love of mobocracy, your propagation of it, you have a want, nay, a need, to strangle the life of a heretic, an individual, a blasphemer. You, you assailing robots, reprogrammable and able to be switched out, one for the other, want to reduce everything to your level. Drag everything down into that swirling vortex where all light goes dark, and all becomes one with the crushing weight of a thousand suns, burning out whatever life came into contact with your world.

Therefore, the individual is rendered null and void. A stifling conformity is put in place, where anything different, anything that doesn’t fit into the narrow doctrine, is destroyed, snuffed out. Heretical, it is deemed, and heresy, it is treated as. Blasphemy of the highest, most absolute variety. Either extinguish your Self totally and definitively, or simply…face death.

Of course, since there are no individuals, all are one. Not composed of the same essence, flowing from the same wellspring. No, no, that is not what you mean. You mean, in the most literal sense, a degrading sort of sameness. Exactly alike, in all respects. Maybe, perhaps, superficially different. But, at the core, carbon copies of each other. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so sickened, so thoroughly, by variety. It wouldn’t cause bile to rise in your throat.

Epitomize modernity, you do. With its wretched equality, its boorish plutocracy, its meandering dullness, its absolute negativity and contempt, unable to put forth positive values, only blindly negate, saying no to any and all things. You claim to loathe postmodernism, but you embody it to a frightening degree. Naturally, since creations always rebel against their creators. It is only the way of things.

Individuality, because it was negated, mysticism, spirituality, that most individual of things, is burned away, consumed in flames, and therefore, despite your pompous posturing about your nauseous traditions, you are soulless heathens, atheists of a fervent variety.

Because you do not think, or feel…you are not.

Protest it all you may like, you are not real. You are…a fake.

As a result, I envy you. To a staggering degree. A part of me wishes I could be a bourgeois beast like you. Another face in the crowd, who engages in the same mundane thoughts, actions, feelings, worries, likes and dislikes, as you. Sadly, I cannot. I simply cannot. I can’t compel myself to become one with your life, your weltanschauung. And thus, a certain poisonous jealousy sometimes arises within my heart, possessed by a silly want to be like you.

It would surely be very convenient, wouldn’t it? To float through life, as a mass-man. Never rise above the multitude. How easy and carefree it would all be.

Then again…who says I want an easy life? Who says I want a carefree one?

Once more, I am reminded of why I make no effort to join your ranks. I exist among you, but I do not mingle, unless it be necessary for me to do so. I try not to let your vicious taint ruin my soul. I cannot afford to be consumed and eaten away at by your hateful corruption.

I observe, and I interact, but I do not feel for you, or your world. Not genuinely. I wear a mask. Put on a coat and a hat to endure the bitter coldness that surrounds me when I step foot into your domain. Like a chameleon, I blend in when I must. But it is not infinite. I cannot do it indefinitely. After all, I need to breathe. You, who were born without lungs, wouldn’t know of that, would you?

While I may envy you, I also loathe you, and my loathing tempers my envy. Sure, I wish I could simply sink into your venomous waters, swept away by the currents and bashed against the rocks and riverbed, so that I may finally become normal and “sane”. But I am constantly shown the horrific banality and dreadfulness of that existence. How it would be the equivalent of descending into the dark, damp doldrums, and that, while I may have thrived in it, had I remained plugged in, so to speak, once unplugged, to go back in would be the equivalent of murderous torture. I’d be screaming in agony, desperately craving release from the nightmare. My soul would maim itself, and everything else, to crawl out of the malevolent prison it would find itself in.

Do not mistake my envy for a form of respect or admiration. I thoroughly hate you. Despise you. Never, ever, shall I bow to your altar. The lowest form of life is to be found in you, if you could even call yourself…life, at all.

Thanks to my hate, neither of us shall have to endure each other’s company.

THIS IS NOT PARADISE

It reeks of sweat, grime, and filth. The dingiest of backwoods churches could not compare the foul gathering of excrement here in this monstrous place. And even when brightly illuminated, it is still dark and invoking of despair. It is akin to a prison. Yet, they say it is liberating. Tell me, what is the difference between this variety of man, and those who inscribed upon steel gates,”arbeit macht frei”?

The altars are the production lines. Its gospel is the noisy racket, the grinding of rusting belts, turning gears, and nails struggling to hold everything together. The words being whatever the lines carry, out for the lambs to consume like wheat and grass. The throne is the manager’s office. He’s not called the “manager”, or “boss”, is he? No, he’s called “The People’s Production Supervisor”. In truth, he’s little else but a monarch.

The guards? Knights by another name. They’ve morphed into the very swine they took to the streets to kill so long ago. Sworn to protect the property of “The People’s Commune”. What is that property? A lot of things. But most importantly, you. And your fellow individuals. Oh yes. You are part of the factory. Its concrete walls having made you one with them all.

Just go ahead and try to assert your independence, your will. The bullets will turn you to Swiss cheese. You are a slave. Ownership of yourself is a foreign concept. After all, no one shall own anything anymore. That is the decree. Not even their own bodies and souls. The only thing can ever truly own.

You are free to do as you please. As long as it doesn’t step on the toes of your comrades. Your freedom ends where theirs begins. Vice versa. Consequently, no one knows where to tread. Where can they move? All of them are in fear of being tread upon by the only one who can tread at all. The monarch. Sorry, I meant “The People’s Production Supervisor”. Big difference, I know.

There’s a little red book. It is your Bible. Read it daily. To remind yourself that this is Heaven. All of humanity’s hard work has led to this one glorious moment. Even if the whole experiment is going to come apart at the seams. It already is. You can see it.

You want to escape. But where can you go? The only passage, the one of the forest, was decimated long ago. They know freedom lies within the trees, amongst other critters, free from the toil of the smokestacks. One of the prophets, a beady eyed, bespectacled…thing…who quelled an uprising in Ukraine, in a time long ago, said that this was necessary for the Heaven to come about. So, too, was it decried for the self-hating Jew. The one who gave birth to all of this. That’s why the fields are dead, so homes for more people can be made. More lots for vehicles. Maybe another factory. Another encampment for the kni-I mean, poli-I mean, “People’s Guardians”. Yeah, there we go. And that’s why the animals are kept in pens. Nothing shall be free, or alive.

VIEW FROM NIHIL

God is dead, God is dead. Yes, his corpse is paraded about and maneuvered like a morbid puppet being manipulated by a cryptic ventriloquist, but make no mistake; the stench of rot lingers heavy in the air. Because God is, in fact, dead. We did kill him. Butchered him, and desecrated him. We refuse to bury the body, because we cannot accept the reality of the situation. However, the facts are still undeniable. Jehovah is dead.

Travel to any church. Be in the presence of the pious. And ye shall see. The foul odor shall overwhelm thy nostrils to an insufferable degree. All you will be able to detect is the scent of a long-perished deity.

Pretend all they may wish, their God is dead. Even as they madly, inanely, seek God. “I seek God! I seek God!”, screaming incessantly for his revival, for him to come back.

He never will.

He never can.

In some ways, this is quite harrowing. Since God has monopolized the metaphysical realm, pushing away all other spirits and deities and heroes from other realms to the periphery, the metaphysical, for all intents and purposes, has been lost. No longer do the many-too-many, the all-too-human, have a pathway to the Divine. At best, the few, the bold, the brash, will have to seek alternatives elsewhere. More authentic traditions, which have never disappointed. Unfortunately, the masses are lost. Spiritually, they are left floundering, since what lead them to that ethereal plane is now gone, ripped away from them. Whether it be a good representation of it or not, that can be argued at a later date. But, it was…something. Through that, they might’ve heard some kind of calling. The layman, that is. The pneumatic need not worry, for they always will find a way to that animating spark, those rays of light that emanate from the dark depths (because all things were born in the gap; everything came from nothing, and all that is shall become all that isn’t, and vice versa).

Since the many-too-many have severed the chains that tie them to a metaphysical source, and thus are left to drown in a sea of woe, now rendered soulless husks who shamble about like vacant-eyed, slack-jawed walkers, running on the biological equivalent of autopilot, they begin to…act accordingly. Becoming deranged. Psychotic. Lost and wayward. Shaking and shivering as they tear at themselves and others with incredible ferocity. The metaphysical has fallen out of favor with them, and it now looks upon them as dross, scum, unworthy of its gifts. Banished, they are. And like lost children, desperately looking for their parents, they grasp and fight and claw and beg and scream for something.

But…it won’t ever come.

All of them shall cry out in vain, “God have mercy!”

But, well, God…he’ll be gone.

Let’s face it: the many-too-many are not desiring or wanting of freedom. Nay, the masses revel in their slavery, and wish for it, either subconsciously or consciously. The teeming herd, despite their protests and cries, want to be crushed and controlled and brainwashed, for they know nothing else. Actual, real freedom, would drive them into the pits of insanity itself.

Do not take away their idols, their god-men and kings. For what would they do without them? Crumble into dust, withering away like wilted flowers in winter time. Their shackles? Keep them locked to their ankles and wrists. Bind them, for that is what they want. Do not set them loose, for it will inevitably lead to their demise. Won’t it, won’t it?

Yet, perhaps this would actually be a blessing…

How much have the masses ruined?

When the populace makes something popular, the end result is mediocrity, which leads, eventually, to its total destruction and negation.

Too much of anything is never a good sign.

All of this stems from them not having innate need or even want to be in contact with the Divine (to the real Divine), to…Her. This, of course, explains their need to attach themselves to a demiurge, a false idol, that dreadful Jehovah, that abominable Yahweh. They demand a ready-made…thing. A useful fiction to comfort their aching souls and aching bodies. As I stated before, those who aren’t descended from the clay born sons of Adam, will need nothing from this tradition. Nor should they. For it provides little else than a restrictive bind that would destroy their uniqueness, their individuality. Crush it under the weight of beating wings and crucified martyrs.

However, since this was all swept away, like children who have been pressed under the thumb of authority for so long, subject to the whims of mad tyrants, they simply…do. With all of the reckless abandon of a cheetah trying to catch a gazelle.

You can’t expect millions who have known nothing but a single idea, to somehow not either go through an existential crisis that ends in horror or hedonism, or lash out in hurt and hate and sadness and mania.

Then comes the inevitable fact that they have to grapple with.

Divinity, as they knew and perceived it, as they were taught, was, at heart, a lie. A dirty trick, a phantom concocted to keep them from losing their minds. Even if their feeble “tradition” wasn’t snuffed out, they, in all reality, would’ve never known the divine. Not even close. At best, a barely-recognizable imitation of it. Certainly not its real essence. What they got was a fraud, a twisted deception. Naturally, when they realize this, and either they are already doing so, or at some point will, it either makes them double down even harder on their frail myth…or go mad from the revelation.

Which is why, to the common man, the death of God is nothing short of pure, nightmarish horror. As it should be. Their hideous light is snuffed out. That bad copy of Mithras, of Sol Invictus, lies perished in the blood-soaked halls of Heaven. Their guiding light, their star, is extinguished, rendered null.

And with it, all the morals attached to this fetid human debris.

Who, who, shall enslave them now? Where is their god-king? All of the little systems they so admired and relied upon, to what void have they descended into, churned up and digested, never to be seen again? “Please, please, come back!”, they cry out with tears in their eyes, quivering as they clasp their hands together.

“Come back…” They whimper.

But the pneumatic, they shall not shirk in the absence of YHWH. Matter of a fact, it shall be a moment of great celebration, for the death of God was what they were craving this entire time. Slowly, yet surely, working towards the destruction of that putrid old man. While the masses descend into a collective psychosis at God’s absence, those who found nothing but wretched, pathetic groveling at the feet of a dirty, wicked tyrant, shall begin to revel in their true freedom. It could be argued that God had suffered a demise much earlier, but, eventually, the minds of the many-all-too-many will awaken to the reality that they have sought to deny for so long: God is dead. And what they’ve been holding onto was little else but a stinking cadaver, trying to fool themselves, trying to trick themselves, into God somehow sprouting back to life.

A new age, a new cycle, shall dawn upon us all.

Refreshing and renewed, the world, in this age, shall perhaps not be so blackened, so grey, blotted out by the shadows of a decrepit Israeli.

Oh, how they shall fall into the arms of denial. Trying to relieve those glory days of the past where God was not but a screaming figment of their dull imagination. Feebly and hopelessly attempting to turn back the clock to yesteryear. Believing that if a certain set of circumstances were to arise, then all would be well again. Right, right? Hardly…and deep down, they know this to be the case.

You see it a lot in this day and age. All of them, trying to act as if their great lie didn’t come to an end. It infuriates them to be told otherwise, let alone think it. “No!”, they yell. But underneath that bravado, is pure fear.

“What if they are right? What if God is truly gone?”

“Say it isn’t so!”

Delusional, that’s what they are.

Even from behind the grave, YHWH still cracks the whip over their backs. And even in his absence, they still spill their blood for him, scarring and rending their flesh in his name.

It would appear…that they have a hard-on for the ill-preserved body of whatever it is that truly seek (if they, indeed, do truly seek anything at all). Move on? You dare tell them to move on? Balderdash. Like a grieving mother at the grave of her prematurely deceased child, they will not move on. Never…never.

Yet, unlike the mother torn apart by her child’s departure from this world, this breed of human will try and dig up the shriveled carcass, lusting over their ideal image of it. Perhaps even try to sodomize and sexually defile it. Because their love is not actually love. More of a perverse obsession, a demented attraction born out of their loins, not their hearts. Disrespecting it far more than their invisible enemies ever could…

Us, who are not perturbed in the slightest, will defiantly say, “to hell with the past!”. What have the words of dead man and dead idols got to do with us? Absolutely nothing. These old forms and old ways, we shall leave them to the wastebaskets of history, crushed under the ever-turning wheel that grinds up all things and all people into dust, where nothing, no man or era or civilization, is safe. We didn’t want them anyway. To live in the past; what misery.

Of course, this is not to say the past cannot teach us things, for there are truths everywhere that will always be eternal and valid. But only that which stood the test of time, should be allowed to ring in the ears of the coming generations.

Did Jehovah stand the test of time? I think not.

Nor did his teachings, his lies, his empty words, his hollow promises, his foul rules and sinful schools.

He was but a mere two-millennia long fad, a fluke in the grand scheme of wyrd.

I implore, to any who may have even the slightest inkling…

Forget the past.

We shall be deemed heretics, by those infected by the disease known as “pastism”. Riddled with a grotesque need to “go back”. Go back? Fuck all that. It’s not happening. Wishful thinking at best. No amount of pining for opulent monarchs and gaudy churches will magically bring back that which you love most. And, in all honesty, I would say that you most likely want to appearances back. Not the spirit. Pretenders, posers, fakes. More detestable than the scum who actually believe.

But it is no matter. They shall die, while we, we shall live. Gloriously and without limit or concern for the petty doctrines espoused by the diabolical trio.

To be called a heretic by them would be a high honor.

“Damn right we are heretics! We are in league with your devil! Howl foul mockery at your bastard sand prophets, your crosses and crescent moons and fiendish stars!”

As it currently stands, upon the edge of the abyss it looms. Therefore, it is our duty to push it, and hard. Leave it to the swirling vortex. Make war upon whatever is left of these ridiculous notions, these festering disease, these causes for brain and soul rot. Burn it, burn it, I say. We shall use the remains of it to warm our hands in the coming darkness, in the eternal night. Our feet shall trample upon all that you hold dear. If you wish to leap into the void with your emaciated Nazarene, we shall not stop you. Matter of a fact, we encourage it.

Restart…

Reset…

Iron beginning…

Begin again…