If you want to preserve your culture and values, that fundamentally requires segregating out incursions of incompatibility. Whether it is meticulously scrutinizing your daughters’ suitors or mass racial profiling, discrimination is an inescapable part of your worldview. Abandon this, and you surrender the possibility of a holistic philosophy. It means that there is an unyielding and ever rising tide of social progressivism, technological serfdom, and critical theory to measure your worth against mollusks and flowers and molds. It means that every living being should be reprogrammed and exsanguinated – the very flame of your essense to be blown out, and what remains must prostrate itself before the arid horizon envisioned by a bureaucratic, all-encompassing web that makes up Satan’s neurons. The ghost-in-the machine is the Anti-Christ – it is collective impotence with paradoxical movement. It is random noise cloaked by the symphony of banalities. It is the weight of absence heralded as evolution, and a bloom of decay masqueraded as renewal. In a way that seems to teeter on the brink of lunacy, simply uttering a slur is the simplest way to subvert this problem. A solitary utterance – “nigger, nigger, nigger” you hear it echo, can lift the veil enough to see through the camouflage. The difference between a Flat-Earther, a garden-variety 9/11 Truther, NWO sceptic, UFOlogist, and a real antisemite or race-realist lies in their willingness to articulate truth – “I judged them by the content of their character”, acknowledging through intuition shadows stretching toward malice. “But that is hate”, the abridgement treads towards fibbing to forget where we started. If you want your culture to endure, you must love it more fiercely than others’… right?

When your father took you to the playground, do you think he loved you or the other kids there more? “Me obviously”. Does that mean he hates the other kids there? “No obviously”. It is because you are kin. ~Apr 10, 2021

If even the faintest aroma of “hate” sends you reeling, perish. It is 50,000 BC and you are offering up your pigs and daughters so as to not offend your invaders. The man holding the spiked mace above your head hasn’t read Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Time to die.