 The co-founder of the African Black Defense League, Egountchi Behanzin, recently expressed the desire of Africans to cooperate with the Russian Federation regarding vaccines and medicine. He lambasted the Amero-European pharmaceutical mafia for its attempts to coerce Africans into poisoning their children. The coercion runs along typical Western sanctions as punishment lines. If an African nation refuses to participate in Frankensteinian voodoo, then it is allegedly deprived of access to Washington’s magic money machine via the IMF, SWIFT, etc. Behanzin noted that the Collective West’s mafia uses childhood vaccines to sterilize populations and turn everyone homosexual. The man appears to know something. Here’s one short description of Western neocolonial medical terror in Africa, as recounted by RFK, Jr. (before he went uber-Zionist…):
While they have indeed been hit very hard and for a long time by the forces of hell, Africans are not alone in their victimization. It’s not so much racism that drives the pharmakeia-peddling demons. They are, as some say, “colorblind.” Or, rather, they are simply blinded by their hatred of God and all mankind. Specifically regarding childhood vaccines and homosexuality, hard evidence is emerging that shows an extreme correlation between poisoning children with these luciferian concoctions and the radical increase in abnormal sexual identity and behavior in Western populations. As Steve Kirsch puts it: “...vaccines are the primary cause (79% attributable fraction) of deviation from traditional norms relative to: sexual orientation, gender identity, sexual dysphoria.” Those in Africa and anywhere else only need look at what has become of the US population over the past three or so generations to get a very good idea of what is maliciously intended for the people of the wider world. When I was young, American children were subjected to relatively few vaccines. When my daughter was a baby, the number had grown to perhaps several dozen. Today, it stands somewhere north of 100 different kinds of shots, containing all sorts of chemicals and Lord knows what else, almost all of it completely unnecessary. Over that period, from the 1970s (US Generation “X”), through today (Generations “Z” and “Alpha”), the increase in reported rates of sexual deviance has been astronomical. Being “gay” went from practically unheard of to suddenly everywhere, forcefully demanding acceptance and ratification, and being trendy or cool. It also went hand-in-hand with 10,000 other social maladies that frequently combine, leaving results that are anything but cool. We witnessed one such confluence the other day in Winder, Georgia, USA. On September 4, 2024, at Winder’s Apalachee High School, a fourteen-year-old male student, Colt Gray, allegedly committed mass murder and terrorism, killing four people and wounding another nine. So continued America’s pitiful and embarrassing tradition of school shootings and violence. According to British tabloid media, Gray was supposedly bullied at school for being “gay”. If Gray is homosexual or so self-identifies, then, by his age and given the extreme load of poisonous vaccines he was likely subjected to, there is a very good chance those poisons contributed to his dysphoric disposition. I do not know, but I suspect, “a dollar to a donut”, that he was also under the influence of SSRI drugs, “ADHD” drugs, or some other combination of dangerous psychotropics. One of the known side effects of those kinds of needless medications is an increase in aggression and a decrease in cognitive function and restraint. If Gray was subjected to such a litany of mind and hormone-altering chemical poisons, then the odds were overwhelming that it was the school system and the state government that forced him and his parents into compliance with psychiatric and medical practices straight out of a horror novel. In Russia, Metropolitan Vladimir of Vladivostok and Primorsky just called for boosting Russian families and children. Part of his suggestion is that certain prying state bureaucracies need to be limited in some activities that intrude on parental control of children and family life. By contrast, America has become the home of the meddling busybody, ever seeking to “help” where no assistance is required (and very often turning away when help is required). Americans were reliably informed that it takes a village to raise a child, mere parents not being enough. Yet when problems arise, including those problems caused by the village, it is the parents who are scrutinized and, in some cases, punished. Colt Gray’s father, for instance, has been charged alongside his son for murder under extremely dubious legal theories. No charges, of course, will be filed against any school officials, doctors, drug companies, psychologists, social workers, or any other village helpers. In the US, in addition to being misled and/or left on the hook, parents and children are brow-beaten into accepting overdose vaccination and other stupidities as part of the process of enrolling in that luxury of luxuries, the American public school system. What, exactly, do they get for their acceptance of insanity? Here’s a brief look at Gray’s high school. In accordance with other dystopian American programs, Apalachee High has undergone a consistent and pronounced demographic transformation this century. Rapid, forced heterogeneous destabilization of society and culture is just as damaging as chemical warfare. As of 2024, the school ranked in the bottom half of Georgia high schools in terms of academic performance. That also sums up its placement when compared to all US high schools (number 9,501 of 17,655). In keeping with the postmodern trend of American educational excellence, the school boasts amazing(ly poor) subject matter proficiency scores. As measured by the system’s own very low standards, only 30% of Apalachee’s students understand mathematics at their grade level and only 31% are sufficiently accomplished in reading. And, of course, despite failing to educate over two-thirds of its victims pupils, Apalachee still maintains a graduation rate of 91%. If you, the international outsider, suspect something akin to fraud is taking place, then please be reassured these stellar results are virtually identical to every school system in the US. Almost all public government schools, and probably a high majority of private institutions, are miserable failures. The failure was intentional, a part of the larger policy of totally destroying the fabric of American society. As “W” once implied, “Mission accomplished.” As this was (yet another) school shooting, the low-quality mainstream reporting on it largely centered on firearms. While there are far too many gun crimes in America, gun violence ranks low on the list of things that kill Americans, and it is also a fact that guns prevent an even greater number of potential crimes than they contribute to. Still, that last point further testifies that there is far too much crime in America. It also overlooks the fact that for all their firearms (400 or so million in private hands), Americans have failed to prevent that one crime for which the founding freemasons reluctantly and belatedly included the Constitution’s Second Amendment to address: the emergence of nation-destroying tyranny. The 2A’s real operative words are, “of a free state” We might also make “of a civilized state” synonymous for the sake of this discussion. Upon a time long ago, before the rise of the Total State and the emergence of Sodom and Gomorrah-style wickedness coast to coast, America, for all its faults, was awash in weapons while still experiencing relatively low rates of crime. Americans were also different people then, largely being mentally, physically, emotionally, and morally fit. Things have changed for the worse. It occurs to me, a lifelong gun owner and proponent, that liberal ownership of deadly weapons is better suited for a civilized population. Weapons in the hands of demented barbarians appear to lead to, well, demented barbarity. Many things occur to me these days. While glib liberals will surely call for impossible gun control, and simple-minded conservatives are likely to call for … Trump(?), I suggest something holistic and altogether different. I’ve long advocated that the few remaining good and intelligent Americans arm themselves, withdraw their children from the state’s satanic concentration camp schools, and avoid the necromancy vaccines and medical elixirs. Seeing as how American society has completely degenerated, it is now advisable that decent people completely break from it. I’ve previously advised various young people to consider moving abroad. For all those who remain, the time has seemingly come for families to withdraw, along with the like-minded, into little secluded monastic-like fortresses of civilization. If any of them must continue to venture among the deranged savages, then let it be the adult men, well-armed, and only for the shortest duration possible. Let the clowns, cannibals, and vampires run wild; their time will be short. Someone must be ready to reemerge and rebuild when the fires die out. For all those outside the US and the failing West, please take a good, hard look at what satanic, liberal globalism does to its host populations. The ranks of the multipolar world can learn much from America’s very negative examples. You, many of you, know well how soulless, corporatist liberalism treats the rest of the world—as slaves, targets, and fodder. Yet many of the non-Western nations that have fallen prey to the colonial locusts of the Enlightenment have remained true to their traditions. Keep it that way, my friends. And keep the hellish specters of the false West at bay. I am repeatedly pleased that this process of observation and deterrence is already underway. Africans and Russians are on guard. Others are as well. While praising Almighty God, Iran’s new Ministry of Education, Alireza Kazemi, recently announced a plan to reform the country’s schools, perhaps in line with what Russia is currently doing. God, having long been driven from American schools, hearts, and society in general, has apparently and understandably turned His back on America. His wrath appears to be taking the form, not of plagues and direct intervention, but of simply allowing Americans, insouciant or wicked, to reap the deserved rewards of their actions and inactions. Whatever Iran does, whatever Africa does, whatever any of you do, make sure it's the opposite of what Americans have done to themselves and their children. In any event, we know all the Faithful are assured that, Deo vindice. This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on Sept. 11, 2024.
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 Autumn is coming, and once again, it’s my favorite time to praise the great North Carolina treasure, Tweetsie Railroad. My first visit to America’s greatest amusement park was during the 1970s. I cannot recount how many times I’ve been back, but I hold steadfast that Tweetsie is the one place that never seems to change. It’s always, always, always exactly the way one remembers it from childhood. Before I forget, let me also recommend this place, another delightful getaway just around the corner from Tweetsie, and founded by the same good family. And while I’m doing free promos, eating at the Peddler is mandatory when visiting the area. Rather than recite every single virtue of Tweetsie or even a fraction of them, I decided to republish a Tweetsie-themed short story from a few years ago. Please enjoy! Et Pisces Cultro (Perrin Lovett, 2020) ‘One of you will finally catch him one of these days,’ Will said, not quite to himself, as he sat on the rear cargo deck of his SUV, looking down at something. ‘And, maybe they’ll promote you guys to a full eight cents.’ He laughed softly as he started digging around in a large bag with one hand. His other hand held a pocket knife. Rather, it held his pocket knife, a marvelous little folding device without, in his mind, rival or equal. He considered it the finest knife in the world, a tool of elegant, simplistic utility with a manly, if subdued, artfulness. It was unique. It was a smaller design: slim, light, and made for unobtrusively resting in pants of any caliber - rugged denim or stylish wool. The construction was solid steel, with a simple hinge, and a locking release nestled at the end of the handle. Compared to other two-and-a-half inch knives, it was as functional, practical, and reliable as any. The handle set Will’s apart. For embedded under clear resin were three green-tinted postage stamps, set fringe to fringe in a row. Each bore the image of a brown trout leaping from the water in pursuit of an elusive dragonfly. Each boasted the nominal price of 7 ½ cents, as marked years earlier in the distant nation of New Zealand. In a way, he had always credited the fish (and the knife) for his long-ago visit to that far southerly land, his own On The Beach moment while en route to temporary employment somewhere colder. The knife had accompanied him even then. Now, it was ready again for lacerative work. From the bag, Will, at last fished what he was looking for. That very evening, less than two hours hence, he and his lovely Wendy would take their little daughters, Willow and Wynter, for a night of spooky fun, courtesy of the Ghost Train and Tweetsie Railroad. With Halloween closing in and a chill in the air, warmer clothes were in order. That afternoon, following a day of ordinary, daytime mountain railway excitement, he’d purchased a little pink “No. 12” fleece pullover for Wynter. He’d only to remove the tags and triumphantly present it to her up in the room. He clicked open the knife and could not overlook, momentarily, the significance of the act. Like the garment, his perfect pocket knife had also come from magical Tweetsie, though not from any gift shop. Many years before, when he was a boy, he’d been wandering around the Country Fair area, Dippin’ Dots in hand. Then, he had noticed a man with a rake, laboriously cleaning years of dust, dirt, and debris from beneath a ride. On the ground were a pile of grime, leaves, bubble gum wrappers, and other dingy trash, awaiting deposit into a rubber waste can. In the pile, little Will caught the gleam of shiny metal, something to naturally attract the attention of a ten-year-old boy. Oblivious of the encompassing filth, he’d simply reached down and lifted the object for inspection. Seeing no one else around, and adhering to the ancient law of Finders, Keepers, he dusted it off on his jeans and, after admiring it, placed it in his pocket. Later, at home, he’d polished the knife and oiled its mechanisms. Despite lying buried for who knows how long, it was sharp when he found it. He kept it finely honed to a razor’s perfection, a feat he’d always found remarkably easy. It was as if this little blade wanted to remain keen of its own silent accord. As such, now he knew it would make short work of his project. Retailers relish labelings. He pulled back a sticker, then another. He deftly sliced through two plastic tabs. The final challenge was a long nylon stem binding the price tag to a sleeve. With the fleece garment on his knee, he stretched the tag taut with his left hand, two fingers wound around the top of the stem. He placed the sharp blade and prepared to cut. Just then, a passing truck blew its raspy horn. He jerked. The stem snapped clean. But he felt the passing of cold steel across his curled digits. ‘Oh, wow,’ he exclaimed as that hot ripple down the spine that we all feel in such tenuous moments caused him to lurch again. He examined his fingers cautiously, surprised to find only the faintest, superficial lines of indentation that, even as he watched, receded to nothing. He tucked the sweater under his arm and closed the knife. ‘Woo! That was close.’ ‘But we never harm our owner!’ said a small voice, the speaking of which caused Will to drop both coat and knife on the deck. ‘Who said that?!’ he asked with a start. ‘We did,’ answered the little voice. ‘And please don’t discard us so roughly.’ Will’s hand slowly, almost unconsciously inched towards the knife. He picked it up gingerly and, turning it in his hand, gazed at the three diminutive trout. ‘Was that you?’ he asked in disbelief. His eyes went wide and his head reeled as the report came in: the first little fish turned its attention and its head away from the fly and straight to Will, and spoke! ‘Of course, it was us,’ said the fish. ‘You can talk?!’ ‘The same as you, if more selectively,’ replied the second trout. ‘Well, except for him.’ He nodded to the third fish. ‘He stays quiet. Missing his tail, you know.’ Will observed, for the first time he could remember, that the last trout in the line was creased-over the end of the hilt pommel with its tail obscured or deleted. He had never in all those years noticed. And he had never, in all his life, expected a conversation with at least two fish on a knife. (Honestly, he had never envisioned discourse with any fish, bladed or otherwise). ‘How do you— How do you two fish speak? Is it possible?’ he stammered. ‘Not possible. Probable,’ said the first fish. ‘Not probable,’ said the second, ‘definitive.’ ‘Oh,’ said the first, ‘and we are not two, but one. I am the knife of two voices though of one mind.’ ‘You just called each other us,’ Will correctly noted. ‘There is no explanation for that. Is this better?’ they both answered at once. ‘That is— This is just a little odd,’ Will admitted. ‘We always expected mild confusion,’ the first fish said. ‘Why haven’t you spoken before?’ ‘We have never spoken before,’ said the second fish, ‘except to each other. Long discussions we had beneath the Tilt-a-Whirl, our home for an age of fish.’ ‘Ha!’ Will exclaimed. ‘So you remember when I found you? When we first met?’ ‘We do,’ said the first, ‘and many thanks for your rescue and kind treatment.’ ‘How long were you down there?’ Will asked. ‘Or, better, start from the beginning. What’s behind a talking knife?’ ‘The long or the short of it?’ asked the second. ‘Better to finish faster, eh?’ ‘Indeed, time is wasting,’ said the first. ‘I’ll explain a little: Will, you yourself have noted, more than once, that we are marked Japan, rather than China or USA like so many common blades. We are the work of an old katana master, sold through a trading company to a certain menswear shop. ‘What was it? Thirty years gone by? We were acquired by a man who treated us well enough. He visited your favorite amusement park more than once. It happened that, upon a time, he and his daughter ventured onto the Tilt. We were, if we can remember it, already dangling close to the edge of the pocket, so to speak. Sir Newton was right about motion. Once we started moving, started flying, we didn’t stop until we rolled, slid, and came to rest on the metal decking near the outside rail of the amusement. He could have found us, we suppose, if not for the vibrations. When the machine slowed down, the motor shuttered, the floor shook and we fell through the cracks - and not as a matter of mere saying. Lonely and forgotten—’ ‘He never forgot us,’ added the second trout. ‘No, but he was most late in thinking of us when he finally did. And too slow to finally act,’ said the first. ‘For about a year we lay amid the crud and smut until you came along. And, thank our maker, that you did.’ ‘You said it was an age,’ countered Will. ‘Yes, for us,’ said the second; ‘time passes differently for trout on a dagger.’ ‘Oh,’ remarked the first, ‘and time is running away here and now. We can explain a little more at the park tonight. Does not someone need a certain pink cloak?’ ‘Wow. Yeah. Thanks,’ Will said, then venturing to inquire: ‘What are your, er, what’s your name?’ ‘Piscis Gladius, at your service as always,’ the knife answered as one. Enlightened, and still amazed, Will stowed his new friend and former tool in his pocket, handled the pullover, and made off for room 414 at the Holiday Inn, Boone. Wynter, aged three, was enthralled with her new outerwear. Donning it she became a fashionable sight to match her older sister. Clad against the night airs and the threat of fog or drizzle, the happy family soon meandered down US 321 towards Blowing Rock. On the short drive, as the girls chattered away in their car seats, Will asked Wendy, ‘Did you ever read The Children of Hurin?’ ‘What’s that?’ Wendy remarked. ‘Is that a kid’s book?’ ‘No, it’s Tolkien. One of his posthumous books, a tragedy.’ Will said. ‘No, I haven’t,’ she said. ‘Is there anything Halloween spooky in it?’ ‘Kind of. It’s about Hurin’s son, mostly. He, among many adventures, found a talking sword.’ Will let the words fall out slowly, his mind somewhere else and his eyes on the road. ‘Well, no tragedy tonight. We’re out for spooky fun with the Ghost Train, right girls?’ Wendy said and asked, more to the back seat than to Will. Then she turned to the radio. ‘Let’s see if there’s some macabre music on!’ There was not, as it turned out, though the girls (and Wendy) had fun with a kid’s sing-a-long CD about a black cat and a jack-o'-lantern. Will kept thinking about his new fishy acquaintances. Fifteen minutes later, he did the honorable thing and, seeing a chance, dropped the ladies off nearer to the main entrance, himself resolved to seek out a parking space alone. For some reason, he parked as far away as he could, or as far as the attendants would allow. On his slow walk up the hill to the ticket office and gates, he checked to make sure no one was close or watching and he pulled out the knife. ‘Okay, now. What’s the real story behind a talking pocket knife, my postal friends?’ he asked. ‘Ah, yes,’ said the first trout. ‘We, as we said, were crafted by a great master in Seki. His skill, and perhaps something greater, lives on in us. We always knew we were smart - uh, smarter than your average knife - but we could never bring ourselves to speak out loud. That is, to anyone else or even to ourselves.’ ‘We kind of thought together, if that makes sense,’ added the second fish. ‘Indeed, indeed,’ rejoined the first. ‘You never spoke to the first owner? The man with the loose pocket?’ Will inquired. ‘No, sadly,’ said the first. ‘He was a good enough fellow, and he took us on all sorts of adventures.’ ‘We went to the World Trade Center, and to some, well, mysterious meetings in Washington, along with many other exciting places!’ the second said happily. ‘And, then you graciously took us to the home of our philatelic ancestors. And the frigid extremes of the Pole,’ said the first. ‘Exhilarating, if cold enough to freeze the fish off a steel blade.’ ‘We’ve a mind to see our true home of origin, where the stamps met the metal, in Japan, someday. If it can be arranged. Perhaps this visit to Tweetsie can help us along,’ said the second, whimsical. ‘The Tweetsie magic, yes!’ said the first. ‘It’s probably not magic, per se, more of Divine Providence. But it was here, in this blessed little realm, under the Tilt-a-Whirl, that we first spoke. To ourselves, of course. And it might just be proximity, tonight, that prompted our speech to you, dear William.’ ‘You guys think there’s more of that magic ahead?’ Will asked. ‘We do, now that we see more clearly,’ said the second. ‘You talked about traveling. And you want to get back to Japan. You think there’s any chance I could help with that tonight?’ Will asked. ‘Possibly, if not probably or definitely,’ replied the second. ‘What can I do, if or when the time is right?’ Will wanted to know. ‘Cast me away,’ said the first trout, flatly. ‘Where? Like into a lake or something?’ Will asked with mild trepidation. ‘Oh, no! Nothing like that, Will,’ soothed the first fish. ‘Let’s just say, if and when the time is right, you will know him when you see him.’ ‘I’ll just know him when— Oh, hey, people and the ticket office, guys! Back in the pocket, we go,’ Will said with a wink. In a jiffy, he passed through the turnstile and into the legitimately happiest place in the world. He was as awed as ever as he walked past the stroller rentals and the ironically-juxtaposed jail and began scouting for his family on Main Street. It was always the same at Tweetsie, regardless of the year, the season, or the time. The little park was (or is) the one place that is always exactly the same as one remembers it from childhood. Will noticed a sign near the Cowboy Cantina. In a few days, the final day of the season, a concert was to be held at the Hacienda. Will reckoned they would have to miss that fun, even though he knew the band and wanted to sing along. ‘Dandy and the Bass Slayers! Boy!’ he said out loud. ‘Vee herb dap!’ came a watery call from his pocket. ‘Sorry guys. But it’s bass, not trout,’ Will explained. ‘They’re a rockabilly band from… Hello, baby girls!’ He had found his loved ones. ‘Daddy!’ Wynter practically screamed as she jumped up into his arms. ‘It’s me!’ he said before pecking her on the forehead. ‘Daddy! We should have worn our Halloween costumes!’ said Willow, excitedly if somewhat ruefully. ‘Well, now, let’s see,’ said Will; ‘I think we’re costumed enough. You two and mommy are obviously princesses.’ It was a kindly remark, true in a familial sense, pleasing to young daughters, and it generated a smile from an appreciative wife. ‘So, daddy?’ began Wendy; ‘Just what are you? Our prince?’ ‘No,’ he answered. ‘I’m just a greens manager enjoying a long weekend.’ ‘That’s not a costume!’ Willow sang while pulling back and forth on Will’s hand. ‘Everyone else is making up for it! Look at all these characters around us! Now, what are we going to do?’ He placated. They did just about everything, and some things more than once. The Ghost Train waited while the family had dinner in the Cantina. Then, there was a small matter of more shopping at the very same stores that they’d visited earlier that day. Some pictures were taken. Then! Then, they rode the Train, with frights, thrills, and chills aplenty. They found themselves in a delightfully dark haunted wonderland. There was so much to take in! Ghouls, ghosts, goblins, and more lurked around every laughing corner. The family found out that they call it a Freaky Forest for a reason. And, who knew candy corn worked so well in a funnel cake?! After seeing a spooktacular show at the Palace, they ventured up to Miner’s Mountain for more shows, more rides, more pictures, and more fun. For added measure, just to be safe, they even had some additional fun. On the way back down, via the chair lifts, Will had to ride by himself, a car behind the ladies. He listened to them sing and shout and yell Hello, spiders! to the giant, illuminated spiders down on the hillside. After a moment, he pulled the knife out once again. ‘Hey, guys. I’ve been looking for whomever this is supposed to be, and I haven’t really seen him yet,’ he said. ‘No, you wouldn’t,’ said the second trout; ‘not yet.’ ‘You’ll know him when you see him, not before,’ said the first. ‘So, he wasn’t that tall, intelligent but dangerous-looking man with the very attractive woman at his side?’ ‘Certainly not.’ ‘It’s not the last owner, is it?’ ‘No. We’re going forward, not backward.’ ‘Is he anything like me?’ ‘Like you, perhaps, as you were.’ The conversation ended at the lower lift station. The knife was again concealed and, roundabout, Wendy, Will, and the girls ran, skipped, and frolicked their way over to the Country Fair. There, the falls were free, the tornado was gusty, the turnpike was cruising, and the arcade was refreshing. Will and Willow even braved a car on the Tilt, while Wendy and Wynter dared to occupy another. Will almost assumed that the knife would once again fly off, literally, on a further escapade. But in the end, when he checked, it was still in his pocket. At last, as the evening drew towards its closing, the ladies wanted one final thrill. Space limits dictated that only they could ride the ferris wheel, so Will contented himself to sit and watch. He had taken to a bench near the Tilt and was watching (and listening) as the women of his life circled high above. He knew that after the very next revolution, they would exit and this particular Tweetsie visit would come to an end. He didn’t know that he had inadvertently taken out the knife, nor that he was gently turning it in his hand. He had just realized what he was doing and was again examining the stamps as they turned upwards to his face, kindled by the carnival lights all around him. Suddenly, a voice spoke - and it was not aquatically-accented: ‘That’s a nice knife you have, mister.’ Will looked up and observed a boy of about ten, who was keenly looking at the little folder. Without thinking any more about it, Will stood up and held out the knife to the lad insistently. After a second of hesitation, the boy took it. ‘That’s a nice knife you have,’ Will said with a smile. ‘Gee. Thank you, sir,’ said the boy. ‘Don’t thank me,’ said Will, ‘thank the fish.’ With that, he simply walked away, almost immediately running into the giggling womenfolk. ‘Will Ferrum, did I just see you give your favorite knife to that little boy?!’ Wendy asked perplexedly. ‘You did,’ Will said. ‘Somebody has to get them to Japan.’ While both the gift and the remark potentially begged a few questions, she asked him no more about it, and he explained it no further. Instead, they all four wound their way back, past the Spice Ghouls, past the prize pumpkins, and past spills and chills galore, to the exit on Main. As they were departing, and maybe they didn’t even hear it, thus began the melody of “Pet Sematary” by the Ramones. And a pale, strange man in a cape and a top hat, seated across the cowcatcher of Old Number 12, began to laugh. Consider steel, as cold as night, Allocution of the angled; Find the sword a cordial sight, So keeper be embrangled. ~The End~ Furthermore, Deo vindice. Deus est etiam iustitia.  Author's note: The following short story first appeared on my blog on March 19, 2021. Over three years later, it is still remarkably relevant, perhaps more appropriate now than then. Brynlee pulled her thong up to fully expose the new marijuana leaf tattoo riding high on her plump, white right cheek. She was delighted TikTok was working again (it had been off-and-on for a few days for unknown reasons) though she was moderately distressed the comments feed still wasn’t active. ‘Weah muh boiz? Weah beo-chez? Thot bee hawt!’ she slurred as she began to twerk for the camera. ‘Yaw git high why I shake dis booty, shake dis booty, shake diss booooo-tay!’
The noise from the living room really bothered her—almost as much as the loss of instant gratification from her ten thousand loyal followers. ‘Turn dat sheeit dow!’ she screamed. ‘Dat bee dee nooz?’ Suddenly, Marqueena, the seven-year-old daughter she’d had with Darnell, a man she barely remembered, stormed into the kitchen. Sober eyes would have detected the fear and distress on the cute little face, half ivory, half ebony. ‘Which ship is daddy on?!’ the little girl asked with a shout. ‘Gah! Gurl, waay,’ the attention whore exclaimed as she tapped off her phone. ‘Wuh? Why? He on dat Ray-gan, da airpane sheep.’ With an ear-splitting scream, the child crumpled to the floor in a sobbing heap. Between wails, she bleated, ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ Her wasted, worthless mother stepped over her writhing body and ventured to the doorway. From there, she witnessed something on the 80-inch screen that almost drove the booze and drugs from her underpowered mind. She looked just in time to see the third playing of the first hypersonic anti-ship missile as it plowed into the starboard side of CVN-76. Four more bright flashes followed in rapid succession. Within minutes, over one hundred thousand tons of steel, billions of dollars, and six thousand men—Darnell included—sank to the ocean floor. While little Marqueena rolled and cried, pounding the linoleum with her fists, Brynlee stupidly muttered, ‘Day-um. Muh check…’ The horrific martial scenes on the television were replaced by a stunned Tucker Carlson. With great effort, he spoke again, ‘And, that was Sunday night. Three days ago. They’ve been lying for three days, lying as if nothing was wrong. Well, it is. It’s worse than wrong, it’s unbelievable. It’s terminal. ‘It took Russian and European reporting, that they tried to block, to break the truth openly. For three days, President Harris, or Pelosi, or whoever the hell is supposed to be running this failed nation has been lying to us. A training exercise? Retaliatory strikes. Mission accomplished? Your sailor will contact you when routine radio silence is lifted! Lies. Lies. Lies! ‘Here’s what we know—now!—that really happened. The Iranians knew the strikes were coming and they were ready. Not a single US cruise missile or bomber got through. Tehran obviously has this Russian S-400 or S-500 system and it obviously works. They also have, according to new reports we’ve been able to verify, advanced ultra-high-velocity sea-skimming missiles. That’s what sank the Reagan along with three support ships. ‘Our Navy is so weak, so unprepared that they can’t even recover the very few survivors. The Iranians, to their great credit, have been picking up our wounded, treating them, and offering to return them as soon as possible. They, it seems, have Allah’s grace; we’ve lost it. ‘Within an hour of the Battle of the Arabian Sea, China moved against Taiwan, their first step being to sweep the US Pacific Fleet aside. That’s when we lost the Roosevelt and the Nimitz and other support ships, lost them to even more advanced weaponry and tactics. That’s when we lost most of our island-based assets in the South China Sea and the Philippine Sea. China, by the way, is not interested in recovering any of our MIAs. Also, by the way, there is practically nothing we can do about any of this. ‘That’s when, that’s how we lost an estimated thirty-thousand casualties in one hour. That’s why Vladimir Putin sternly reminded Washington of the new Russian defense alliances with Beijing and Tehran. That’s when the failed, satanic, blood-thirsty fools in the White House started lying. That’s how we know this paper tiger has no teeth. Just maybe, maternity flight suits and transgender sex change operations weren’t the right priority. Well, regardless of how we look at it, America’s imperial age just ended.’  Where’s the envoy when we need him? Warren Zevon’s 1982 song, “The Envoy”, was a rock n’ roll telling of US Special Envoy Philip Habib’s hectic diplomacy efforts, particularly those in West Asia. I always liked the song, the way I liked almost all of Zevon’s work, may he rest in peace. His album of the same name was not a commercial success. Habib’s toil was more productive, at least temporarily. Of course, his missions in Lebanon and elsewhere somewhat represented attempts to undo some of the US’s nefarious actions in the region. Some things never change, but, anymore, it looks like Washington simply causes havoc wherever it goes, or else heavily supports and defends the misdeeds of others. My guess is that it looks that way because it is that way. Just as it no longer has any real leaders, the US no longer employs any real diplomats. Some sinecure moron babbling, “We are the United States. We will always support Raytheon’s right to profit, er, *cough, cough*, Israel’s right to defend itself,” doesn’t cut it. Today, the mantra of DC is, “do what we (or Israel) say, or else be bombed, sanctioned, or overthrown.” This approach kills, maims, and inconveniences millions worldwide, but, in the end, it is counterproductive. The only nation Washington is defeating is America. All other efforts are failing miserably and catastrophically. The CIA’s latest coup attempt in Caracas, Juan Guaidó 2.0, went down in flames. Everyone with eyes sees Washington’s looming humiliation by Russia. No one with a brain thinks Washington can fight, let alone beat China. The Secret Service can’t protect political candidates in the US. US vassal France can’t run the Olympics without full satanism breaking out. US vassal England can’t host a Taylor Swift party for girls without a merry old bout of “freedom stabbings”. They’re losing on all fronts. And yet onwards they march towards armageddon. The pathetic, cancerous US Congress just enthusiastically hosted Bibi Satanyahu, a known war criminal and genocidal sociopath. Bibi’s goons can’t beat Hamas in Gaza, and yet they chomp at the bit for more war—seemingly with everyone. Their next targets are, as always, Hezbollah and Iran, both of which are radically stronger than the Hamas brigades currently defeating the Zionists. Reality and caution tossed to the wind, this week, it’s been hammer down for insane, wanton destruction on those impossible fronts. On July 27, 2024, a missile or missile fragments struck a children’s soccer game in Majdal Shams, in what the Zionists claim is their occupied Golan Heights. Many children were killed and wounded. The Zionists immediately blamed Hezbollah and instantly asserted the weapon used was a Falaq-1 rocket. There were several problems with the story, beginning with the lack of any physical proof a Falaq was used. Majdal Shams takes its name from Aramaic, meaning, the “tower of the sun”. In that regard, in a Tolkienesque sense, it is titularly akin to Minas Anor, aka, Minas Tirith. This horrible episode is reminiscent of the Morgul Lord paying the city a visit. Majdal Shams is in Syria, as recognized by the people of the almost entirely Druze city, Damascus, and the rest of the civilized world. The only parties who consider it part of “Israel” are Bibi, Kamala Biden, Donald Trump, and maybe Uncle Screwtape. As for the strike, when Hezbollah launches a military attack, they generally boast about it. They do not target civilians, especially Arabs of any kind. When they make a mistake, they admit and apologize for it. In this case, they issued and maintained an adamant denial of involvement. It is their suggestion, backed by many others, that what landed and caused casualties was an interceptor missile from the Zionists’ Iron Dome AD system. It is possible an Iron Dome missile struck a projectile over the city, raining debris down on the victims. In that event, or in the event of a malfunctioning interceptor, the Zionists evidently welcomed the outcome as a golden opportunity to advance their war schemes. It is also possible the interceptor, or a similar missile, was deliberately targeted at the city in an attempt to stage a false flag. Regardless, the IGF (“Israeli” Genocide Force) ran with the opportunity. On July 30th, in a move Russia’s Foreign Ministry deemed a “gross violation of international law,” Bibi’s thugs launched a missile strike on Beirut. Their alleged target was Fouad Shukr (Shokor), military advisor to Hezbollah’s Hassan Nasrallah. Shukr previously found fame and honor by helping defeat and run imperial Yankee Marines out of Beirut in 1983. In addition to killing Shukr, in keeping with their traditions and usual tactics, the IGF did substantial damage to a residential apartment building and a hospital, killing and wounding scores of civilians in the process. (Word has it the IGF was disappointed that no Mosques, Churches, schools, refugee camps, or journalists were in the immediate vicinity of the attack.) Sometime between or around this atrocity and the IGF’s next barbarity, the US empire towed its new diplomatic line by murdering a number of Iraqis who had the audacity to oppose the US occupation of their country, a sentiment unanimously shared by Iraq’s government. The IGF, taking an uncharacteristic break from sodomizing Palestinian prisoners to death, next struck Tehran. Dr. Masoud Pezeshkian had just been sworn in as Iran’s new president. At his inauguration ceremony, he said, “You cannot call yourself a man and remain silent in the face of all the crimes of the Zionists.” Hamas political bureau leader Ismail Haniyeh, never one to remain silent in the face of injustice, was present for the celebration. That night, he and a bodyguard went to sleep at what might amount to a retirement home for war veterans in the suburbs of Tehran. They never woke up, both being murdered in their sleep by an IGF missile strike. Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, and the entire Axis of Resistance will not stay silent for long. Tehran notified the UN that in response to such aggression, they are preparing to launch a “Special Military Operation” against their enemies. (President Putin should have trademarked that phrase.) Iran's Supreme Leader, Grand Ayatollah Khamenei, ordered Iran’s military to prepare a strong and fitting response to the Zionist entity for Haniyeh’s murder and the violation of Iranian sovereignty. As of my drafting, no action has been taken. Considering Iran’s 2020 retaliation against the US for murdering General Qasem Soleimani and its retaliation against the Zionists this year, one wonders what the Iranians will do now that their capital has been directly attacked. One also might wonder if Bibi and his Myrmidons in DC have any intelligence whatsoever in their evil little heads. Their lust for death and destruction may be about to push West Asia, maybe the greater world into a martial nightmare. Being utterly evil, that could be their plan. Maybe it would have been too much for any single envoy to sort out, settle down, or ameliorate. Humanity’s best hope probably comes down to multipolar civilizational diplomacy, holistic actions to restore dignity to life. Some of that was on display in Russia lately. On July 28, 2024, Sevastopol hosted a joyous celebration of the true founding of Russia, the 988 AD Christian Baptism of the people and their great land. The future of genuine Western history and tradition now resides in the Third Rome, along with all of Russia’s accumulated Eurasian grandeur and goodwill towards mankind. What a shame Zevon didn’t live to write a song about that! Deo vindice!  This column was written and submitted before its title matter transpired. I am a commentator, not a reporter, and I absolutely loathe all parties involved in this story. I do not care exactly what was said, how many lies the main liar told, or how many times retarded fools clapped like seals. I didn’t need to hear any of it because I know what these people are. The mere fact the event took place, or was ever scheduled to begin with, is sufficient to demonstrate the satanically evil nature of those associated. I do reserve the right to update or alter this commentary in the event something extraordinary and unforeseen happens. With that out of the way, on Wednesday, July 24, 2024, war criminal and genocidal murderer Benjamin Netanyahu addressed the United States Congress in Washington, DC. With so much evil concentrated in one place, I halfway hoped a singularity would form, a black hole-like anomaly to collapse and implode the entire wicked gathering into perdition. I trust my disappointment is also yours, gentle reader. This was the war criminal’s fourth visit to Congress, wherein he broke his previous tie with Sir Winston Churchill. The invitation was offered by the Republican side of the Uniparty, as headed by House Squeaker, Lil’ Mikey Johnson, and with the acquiescence of whatever controls that undead lame duck occupying the White House. The visit was not popular back in the Zionist Entity where 500 professors sent Lil’ Mikey a letter that stated, “This is a dangerous political and diplomatic gesture that endangers not only Israel [SIC], but the entire free world.” In response, my sources tell me Lil’ Mikey dismissed the academics as “antisemites”. Lil’ Mikey also issued a stern warning that he would unilaterally and illegally suspend Article I, Section 6 of the now totally dead Enlightenment Constitution and have any members of Congress who voiced dissent arrested. (But perhaps criticizing genocide is now treason?) This piece feels like a follow-up to something I wrote in January, a look at the cultural, political, and symbolic oddities of Washington. Then, I promised one more topographical image for another day. That day is here, so brace yourselves. For those of you who’ve had the good fortune to avoid visiting the Yankee Capital, let me show you a little general geography and where, precisely, the conclave of luciferians took place. This is DC:  Google maps, unmodified. King Bibi met with the other devil-worshiping trash at the Satanic States Capitol building. It’s the structure at the fulcrum point of the Freemason compass. There’s a lot of Freemasonic symbolism in DC; just to be clear, it’s the giant square and compass just below the enormous pentagram with 666 decameter Baphomet horns:  Google maps, as modified Many Persians and Arabs and others refer to the United States as “the Great Satan”. I sometimes refer to it as the “Satanic States”. “DC” might as well stand for “Devil’s Coven”. America’s leaders and their architects made certain their capital was the largest Satanic temple and Masonic lodge in the world. Thus, in a very perverse sense, DC was the perfect place for Bloody Bibi to speak to his fellow travelers, warmongers of a feather. As Chinese Foreign Ministry Spokesman, Wang Wenbin noted the other day, the US is the world leader in the instigation of conflict, having been at war for all but 16 years of its existence, and having been responsible for 80% of global conflicts since 1945. At the moment, among many other wars and war crimes, the US feverishly assists Bibi’s Zionists in their quest to exterminate the Palestinians. As Philip Giraldi suggested, Bibi should have been arrested the second he set foot on US soil. That would have happened in a decent country. But the US is the polar opposite of decent. The US practically exists to run and/or aid and abet international criminal activity. In its latest Opinion against the Zionist Entity, the ICJ ordered the Zionists to abandon their aggression and their post-1967 land appropriations. Among other points concerning the larger world community, the Court opined:
The world’s largest instigator of conflict will ignore all of that—the war criminal’s reception is proof, as is the US’s unending support for genocide and destruction. To date, Zionist oppression has resulted in the damage or destruction of most buildings, roads, and infrastructure in Gaza. The super-majority of hospitals, schools, Mosques, and Churches have been damaged or destroyed. More reporters have been killed since October by “Israel” than in any other conflict in recorded history. The entire Gazan population has been repeatedly uprooted and sent fleeing from one side of their walled concentration camp to the other. Perhaps a million people face hunger and even famine. 90,000 people have been wounded by kinetic violence. And the true death toll likely stands at or above 200,000. The Lancet’s death estimation methodology involves adding the known combat deaths (~39,000) and the known missing person count, persons who are all but certain to be dead (~11,000), and multiplying the sum by a factor of four. In modern armed conflicts, somewhere between three and fifteen times more people are killed in war, and because of the war, by disease and starvation, than the number killed by combatant actions alone (e.g., by bullets and bombs). The 200,000 estimated excessive deaths are those that have happened or probably will happen because of activities already committed, the estimate is on the low, conservative side, and the hideous number is likely to rise even higher. This extreme violence is merely the latest continuation of the Zionists’ plans and undertakings since 1948, or, more realistically, since 1899. Given the terrible nature and scope of these atrocities, the fact that such a high percentage of the victims are children, and the very strange and telling symbolism in Washington, maybe Lil’ Mikey should have taken a cue from the odious Carthaginians in Salammbô. As Bibi remotely fed children into Moloch’s flaming maw, Mikey and company could have periodically cried out, “Lord! Eat!” The US Congress and, sadly, too many Americans, do not care. It remains to be seen when Bibi will be formally indicted for war crimes by the ICC or some other juridical body. If and when that happens, the US still won’t care. Nor will many US officials care when they are indicted for their participation in these and many other crimes of aggression. Justice and optimism hope that at least a few of them will care, one day when the zero squads begin to close in for so many captures. Until all of this madness fully unfolds or unravels, all most decent people can do is wait, watch, be aware, speak out, and, under no circumstances, approve of the evil done by the genuinely wicked. Great praise is due to those in the Axis of Resistance who continue to literally fight against the forces of hell. Backed by a growing global majority, and, more importantly, by God Almighty, they will be victorious in time. Now, a special message for those within the US, and those without, concerning how the devolving US political landscape affects the foregoing and other geopolitical matters. To the American people, if you know what’s really going on, then good. If not, then good luck. For those in the wider world, particularly in the sovereign, multipolar nations, know that the US is terminally broken. Honest practical political and legal machinations in the US are no longer possible and the country has become ungovernable. All elections and political practices in the US are fake, rigged, and irrelevant. There are a few honest, worthy Americans left, but none of them will be allowed near power until rump states form from the wreckage in the future. Neither the politicians, their parties, nor the American people are in charge of anything anymore. The pending collapse of America is the only solution at this point, and, thus, the best solution. Interestingly, “Israel” marches towards a similar self-inflicted and unavoidable fate. To my many friends in the multipolar world, perhaps especially those in Russia, I understand and appreciate your cautious optimism regarding recent happenings, changes, and trends in the US body politic. In many regards, you may, in fact, be correct that some relations might improve. However, note that many people in West Asia do not see any positive changes occurring, or any real changes at all. Similarly, the governments in Moscow, Beijing, Tehran, and Pyongyang do not appear overly interested in the developing, unpredictable shifts within the US deep state. That is because the potential US pivot away from or towards any country still presents a threat to all countries. For example, if a new (fake) US administration eases up on Russia, Russia will still have to contend with and finish off the idiotic US vassals in Europe. Russia will also have to stand behind and beside China, Iran, or both. Even if acute problems abate, those of a chronic nature will remain until victory is achieved or else the US is simply no longer able to cause major problems. For any of you out there who are becoming excited about Donald Trump, JD Vance, or any other US politicians, I again applaud your optimism and I hope you are right. I also hope you are wearing body armor with heavy plating across the back because that is where they are most likely to stab you. That said and warned against, take what successes they give you, and, at any rate, just go ahead and seize the rest as necessary. Your enemies, the enemies of all mankind, are irrational, stupid, desperate, and evil. Bibi’s little visit, while maybe not of great strategic importance, is a kind of gold standard of symbolism. Govern yourselves accordingly. Keep the faith, maintain the fight, and win. Deo vindice. This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on July 25, 2024.
 I had just written an ordinary article about several elections, including that of the coming US spectacle this fall—of which I remain characteristically dismissive. Then, on Saturday, all hell broke loose in Pennsylvania. I still stand by my previous observations, which are appended hereto. But something changed at Trump’s ill-fated rally. I’m unsure if trying to impress Jodie Foster is still a thing, though I suppose the lone wolf nut explanation is possible if unlikely. There’s the sense of a flag at work. If the shooter, commercial actor Thomas Matthew Crooks, really did act independently, then it is highly likely someone jumped on his organic actions for nefarious purposes, a “green” flag. It’s far more likely the event was some form of a false flag, and while certain parties stand out, their exact motives do not. Part of me was expecting something like a statement that the shooter was an Iranian terrorist, financed by China, trained by Russia, and let’s get your sons and daughters to the draft office. That might have been too obvious. The US media machine immediately swung into action, stoking fear, uncertainty, and falsehoods. Vox ran a Zack Beauchamp article subtitled: “The attempt on Donald Trump’s life has put the republic in peril.” He also wrote, “We should all be terrified about what comes next.” Of course, we should. Fear, fear, fear. Representing American “democracy” or “the republic” as being at risk is popular, but misplaced. The last vestige of Republican America (United or Confederate) ended when Commander Waddell surrendered the CSS Shenandoah at Liverpool on November 6, 1865. The American Empire was, around that time, ushered into being, at first dedicated mostly to domestic oppression, though, in time, spreading its evil globally. However one looks at the monstrosity, one should admit it is near its absolute end, which might explain why the wicked elites who control the US are now utterly desperate. Outside perspectives on US affairs are oftentimes helpful. Professor Alexander Dugin correctly called the probable designs behind this latest lethal atrocity:
Dugin is a bit more optimistic about Trump than I am, but he is right that the liberal globalists hate Trump. And it is possible a second Trump presidency, if possible, could be a painful thorn in their collective side. I also suggest this was the latest in a series of attempted or realized coups in the US, the last one happening during and after the 2020 election. America is a terminally broken nation with a broken political system. Chairman of the Russian Duma, Vyacheslav Volodin, commented on the long-standing turmoil behind the attempt on Trump’s life. Previously, Volodin came right out and said, “The American political system is literally dead." It is, in fact, dead, but the “dead souls” who killed it are still running the corpse around, pretending they still rule over a viable state capable of dominating the world. They are evil and crazy enough to do something like attempt to wage war on Russia, China, and Iran at the same time. At some level, they know that’s a war they could never win, but they don’t care. They’d be content to burn it all down. So any hope that Trump might slow, temper, or defeat their plans is admirable. The problem, again, is that we do not know their exact plans. The prevailing wisdom is that whether he’s alive and competent or not, they can use Sleepy, Creepy Joe to do their bidding. At the same time, everyone on Earth knows Joe isn’t even 5% mentally present. With the underlying system collapsed and smoking, actual leadership from the politicians probably doesn’t matter, though it appears the presentation or image (or mirage) does. They could have a scheme to let Trump return to office, riding a wave of angry popular support. Then, they could sideline or ignore him (or try) and proceed with their wickedness. Think about how Trump ordered imperial troops out of Syria, only for them to remain and grow in number and misdeed. And a population whipped into a frenzy might be easier to lure into that final unwinnable war; Trump could potentially be forced to go along to support the perceived desires of the people. That scenario could backfire horribly on the elites, and, if it ever happened, then let’s hope it does. Little is known for certain at the moment, and that is unlikely to change in the near future. Regardless, some great gamble is in play. I have the feeling someone is, one way or another, trying to galvanize the American public for some purpose. Whether or not, and whether there’s any base steel left to galvanize, remains to be seen. What we can do now is wait, watch, pray, hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. And, do recall... The House Always Wins At The Neoliberal CasinoSeveral people I know like casinos and allege that gambling houses are fun. If so, then I question why the management of such places relies on free or low-cost intoxicants, constant noise, flashing lights, and shiny, moving objects. It’s almost like they’ve created an immersive experience, akin to being inside a television, designed to hypnotize patrons and trick them into parting with large sums of money. Personally, I’d rather be locked in a cookie jar with Victoria Nuland. There’s no doubt that large sums of money are parted with. Gamblers score here and there, but overall, the owners of the casinos win most of the time. Otherwise, they’d go out of business. Politics, especially as played in the neoliberal, globalist, pagan West, is much the same. United KingdomIf I’m not mistaken, the UK recently had four Prime Ministers in as many years, but with no elections. I suppose this reflects on the wondrous virtues of the rule of law, the rules-based order of a great democracy. All four forgettable PMs were Tories who maintained a near-continuous policy of wrecking what’s left of England. Now, finally getting a chance to vote, and reasonably kicking the idiot conservatives out of power, Britons will likely see no substantial positive changes. Concerning NATO’s war of aggression against Russia, there is a detectable current of thought that the ordinary English want nothing to do with it. Accordingly, their latest Labour loser wasted no time in vowing to stay the disastrous course regarding Ukraine, Russia, and slavish obedience to Washington. A small bone was given to Britons of conscience when Mr. Starmer alluded he would terminate the standing Tory objections to the ICC issuing an arrest warrant for a certain war criminal who likes to make short, angry videos where he repeatedly, indignantly huffs, “outrageous!” and “inconceivable!” Overall, the UK will continue to slide deeper into irrelevance and oblivion. No party anywhere near the wheels of power in London cares much for the troubles of the English people. Almost the entire government is corrupt and beholden to forces that hate the English as much as they hate the Russians. Maybe some British voters still claim the process is fun, but one wonders if they really want to survive as a people. FranceLike the UK, France is in dire straits. For a day or a week, it looked like the French were about to rise up and attempt to reclaim their country. On the heels of losing EU Parliamentary elections to the populist right, Macron took his own gamble with snap national elections. He also used every Machiallevian machination at his disposal to tilt as many individual contests as possible away from National Rally/Le Pen victories. It worked, at least, at the polls. He bargained hard for a loose coalition between his center-left and the further left. It remains to be seen if Paris is governable with the resulting three-ish-way hodgepodge in the Assemblée Nationale. The harder left has demanded France recognize Palestine as a sovereign and independent state. That’s good, but one wonders if they really mean it and if they happen to feel the same way about France. They might, as they’re also demanding an end to France’s potentially suicidal position behind the US against Russia. Of course, at the moment these are just words. Most politicians, left, right, and center, are always full of words … and something else. On closer inspection, one might notice that despite being left-leaning, as opposed to the UK’s previous conservative stance, France has essentially had the same kinds of insane policies as the UK. In truth, the false left-right divide is and has been just another factional trap. And it appears that like everything else arising from the Enlightenment, the very idea of modern/postmodern democracy is a malicious hoax. The people keep voting, gambling, and having fun, but the policies of the governments never change for the better. In the long run, the people almost always get the opposite of what they want and need. Practical politics aside, the same powers that control London control Paris and all other Western capitals. The last thing those powers want is anything that will benefit their captive hosts. United StatesNowhere is the fake left-right paradigm more evident than in Washington. The US is nominally ruled by a uniparty, the protestations of some politicians and their supporters notwithstanding. They might as well revert to the 18th Century’s Democratic-Republican party. It’s not a perfect assessment, but one can imagine they divided into a duopoly just to fend off competition with the false premise of two separate, competing parties. The duopoly exists, and it does squelch all opposition. And since around 1980, or 1963, maybe even earlier, the whole show has been just that—an entertaining game designed to conceal the fact that Americans are ruled over by an unelected, hostile, satanic elite. Americans, most of them, still have problems with that reality. John F. Kennedy was the last President who acted like he was truly in charge of the executive office. Jimmy Carter may have been the last man who truly cared about the people. All the while, from the tenures of Johnson to Brandon, the people never seem to notice that regardless of how many times they switch sides of the duopoly, in the White House or Congress, nothing changes. In his 1971 essay, American Civilization, Julius Evola wrote, “The Americans are the living refutation of the Cartesian axiom, ‘l think, therefore I am’: Americans do not think, yet they are. The American ‘mind’, puerile and primitive, lacks characteristic form and is therefore open to every kind of standardization.” Such people were made for the self-defeating charade of democracy. Right now, they’re gearing up for another fake, rigged election between two of the worst possible non-choices imaginable. Maybe they’re having fun, but I’m with Russian President Putin and his well-founded idea that American Presidents do not control anything and that their selection is essentially immaterial. Americans also cannot bear the notion that someone rules over them or that anyone in any capacity controls their thoughts, beliefs, and actions. Yet many of them literally live in mortal fear of certain words and the wicked, retarded thoughts of people who hate them. Americans are brainwashed, governed, and censored by, and, in some cases, self-censored because of third-rate lies and weak rhetorical word spells like those in this 2009 guide. (Before Killary denigrated the “deplorables,” someone had it out for the “persuadables”.) I was tempted to refute some of the core principles from the guide, or, at least, demonstrate how the past 15 years have utterly disproven them, but there’s no point. In general, Americans are like flies determined to get to that beautiful, humming, glowing bug zapper. Who am I to try stopping them? IranFinally, we come to a country with a government that works and works for the people. It occurred to me that Iran is the Islamic version of the Venetian Republic, a sensible balance of noble monarchy and curated democracy, but without the major pitfalls that ultimately doomed Venice, namely the desire for an empire and a privatized central bank. Congratulations to President-elect Pezeshkian. As with all things Persia, the Western media and intel agencies did not know what to make of Iran’s latest election. So, as with all things, they issued a series of nearly incomprehensible babblings. I read exactly one of their appraisals, which isn’t worth citing or quoting. It cautiously, fantastically hailed Pezeshkian as the reformer who might usher in a golden age of Iran being dominated by the West. The author gibbered about Iran’s broken economy, which I suppose means its relative lack of usury for profit (riba), its integration into the BRICS+ juggernaut, and its positioning to become the industrial powerhouse of West Asia. He also mentioned Iran's nuclear program, which he doesn’t understand, and which will not be affected by the change of any single politician. Okay, one quote: Iran’s "hated morality police." If my information is accurate, then this is very similar to Iran’s "hated purple unicorn," i.e., it’s a boogeyman that does not exist. There was also a palpable sense that the West, via the one author, deeply fears Iran won’t embrace Western degeneracy and that it will keep embracing its proud traditions and multipolar sovereignty. Judging by preliminary statements from and well-wishes to Dr. Pezeshkian, those fears are well grounded. هورا! Moving OnThe Great Bifurcation is happening and there appears to be no stopping it. That is excellent news for the global majority who now live or who will soon live in a cordial interlinked but independent series of nations not controlled by lunatics, morons, and devil worshipers. Those who remain trapped in dying Western countries will increasingly be viewed by their elites as slaves, cannon fodder, and persuadable useful idiots whose only purpose is to serve and be hated by the elites. As time passes, and the slaves have it harder, they will slowly awaken, with Americans probably being the last to do so.
Going forward, it is critical to rethink, discuss, and dismiss counterfeit concepts like democracy, free speech, free lunches, empire, exceptionalism, financial capitalism, and anything that is anti-traditional, anti-human, and, especially, anti-God. The conventional solutions for all such forgeries are as plentiful as the number of nations around the world—the beauty of multipolarity. As for overarching concepts of state and politics, if one’s government isn’t routinely attacked by the clown West as an authoritarian dictatorship or some similar derision, then one may have a problem. If so, then let the owners go out of business. In fact, help them when possible. Playing games in a rigged casino, voting in a rigged system, and magic word games will not solve this potential problem. Faith, intelligence, and action will. Deo vindice.  Today, July 4th, is another great day in the age of growing independence for most of mankind. Led by Russia, China, Iran, and the expanding BRICS+ coalition, nations large and small are breaking with the failed, wicked neocolonial oppression of the corrupted, ruined, postmodern, post-Enlightenment West and boldly entering a new era of multipolar sovereignty. This is the Great Awakening in answer to the luciferian Great Reset. Even now, in times of global turmoil, battling against the devil’s hordes, the free, good, and intelligent peoples of the world have already begun to enjoy prosperity and harmony. The movement is spreading like wildfire. Even the French might get involved sooner or later! I love you, my friends, and Godspeed. Enjoy your day! Americans, uh, please have fun with your upcoming rigged fake election, freedom fries, etc. Deo vindice. This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on July 4, 2024.
 For technical reasons, partly related to a semi-inoperable computer, this one is a little shorter than my average. Pardon. Or you’re welcome. On June 24, 2024, Julian Assange was finally freed after twelve years of torture and confinement. His ordeal began when he and his Wikileaks media organization made public in 2010 various war crimes committed by the US Empire in Iraq in 2007, including against unarmed civilians. In 2012, he was forced into the Ecuadorian embassy in London. In 2019, he was removed to the dreary Belmarsh prison where he fought trumped-up US criminal charges. As of 2024, the US’s superseding indictment involves one of those insane government conspiracy theories, namely “conspiracy to obtain and disclose national defense information.” The case against Assange is and has been, in legal terms, pure bullshit. If he is afforded First Amendment press protection pursuant to the 1971 Pentagon Papers case (New York Times v. US Empire), then the US has no case. If, as alleged by the US, he enjoys no such protection because he is not a US citizen, then because he was never within the jurisdiction of the US, the US has no case. Of course, as law no longer matters in the rapidly collapsing US, these points are moot. And in Assange’s particular case, a plea deal to cut the losses of all parties is, while not exactly the right thing, an acceptable thing to put an end to this ridiculous charade. If one listens for a minute or three, one will invariably hear some US officer, agent, or apologist mumble something about “democracy,” “free and democratic,” “rules-base,” “rules-based democracy,” or some other nonsense. One will also note, in addition to the aforementioned legal impossibility, that Assange’s persecution spans the tenure of three US presidents representing both sides of the uniparty. It might be that all that talk about rules and democracy is a lie. As President Vladimir noted not too long ago, no one knows what those rules are or who empowered the rule-makers. As for democracy, there are different definitions of the concept. Here, I’ll just state H.L. Mencken’s: “Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want, and deserve to get it good and hard.” Why so many otherwise good and decent people continue to fall for the sham is a great unknown. But fall for it they do. This might lead me into another discussion that I lack the time and computing power for this week. But democracy, like all trappings of the Enlightenment, is a hoax. In discussing something James Delingpole wrote about Nigel Farage, Vox Day recently opined, “Democracy, particularly in its limited representative form, is nothing more than a sham meant to prevent the volatile public from knowing who truly rules over them. The whole point of the political systems of the modern ‘democracies’ is not to express the will of the people, but rather, prevent it from being realized.” This is why three US politicians, from both sides of the uniparty, pursue a wicked legal strategy not in the interests of the American people nor of much concern to them. It is also why the American people are gearing up for another fake election involving two of those three puppet politicians, one of whom has demonstrated an inability to deal with the true rulers of the US, and the other an inability to do much more than follow orders from them. The real rulers keep getting their way and they keep doing the same evil things. Just a few days before Assange’s release, the US abetted more war crimes against unarmed civilians. In 2007, it was an Apache airstrike on a family van in Baghdad. Lately, beach-goers in Sevastopol have been hit with ATACMS cluster munitions. Assange’s case proves that what truth and justice resided within the US has departed. Most of the history of the US and its Clown World empire disprove the merits of democracy. Evil genocidal maniacs commit war crimes. It's not so much a matter of “the more things change…” but rather, a case of no one forcing changes until relatively recently. I wish Mr. Assange Godspeed, peace, and a restful recovery from his crucible. And instead of continuing to self-crucify, I wish the American people would watch how Russia deals with the crimes of the satanic rules-based democratic disorder. Maybe that last part is too much to ask for now. Deo vindice.  In the appendices of The Lord of the Rings, the reader learns a little about Thorongil, the traveling name of young Aragorn, the future King Elessar. Over some thirty years, Aragorn wandered through the lands of men in order to gauge their worthiness in the coming war against Sauron. Little is known about his journeys into distant lands where “the stars are strange;” however, in Gondor and Rohan, he found sufficient faith, fight, and spirit to resist and endure to warrant his camaraderie and allegiance. I suppose it is well he never visited the remains of the United States, where very few have faith, intelligence, identity, or even interest in surviving as anything more than thralls. To one degree or another, the US condition explains the greater West. Elsewhere, thankfully, things are very different. Elsewhere, people are moving on from the lecherous, ruinous ways of American hegemony. That hegemony was largely the product of two things: the perceived might of American and NATO military power, and the US dollar as world reserve currency. The former has been shown to be overstretched, poorly wielded, and materially deficient. The latter, revealed as a malicious illusion of neocolonial wizardry, is fading away in real time. A few days ago, strange rumors surfaced, from strange sources, that as of June 9, 2024, the US petrodollar would officially become a thing of the past. As far as I can tell, these rumors may not be exactly correct, though they point, like good rhetoric, towards the undeniable truth. The petrodollar was a terrible 1970s solution to the then-pending collapse of the dollar, de-linked from gold and wrecked via mass financialization of the American economy and monetary system. In a scheme perhaps unique in world history, the Saudis agreed to back the dollar with their oil reserves. This allowed the dollar to temporarily remain the most popular international trading currency. It allowed the US government to temporarily spend with abandon. And it allowed the private monied elite of the West to further enslave mankind and usuriously accumulate unto themselves unearned wealth. But the arrangement defied the laws of economic physics and was destined to eventually crash down. Rumors and exact dates aside, the crash is happening now. As Alexander Macris noted in the introduction of his 2023 book Running on Empty, “When the US established the petrodollar system, it signed a deal with the Devil. When it ends, there will be Hell to pay.” While this statement may shock the consciousness of the conscionable, it is not that surprising to those familiar with the religious psyche of America’s ruling elites. But it is an accurate statement. As the American people begin to wrestle with declining living standards, among many other growing problems, and as the American elite begin to uncomfortably deal with the looming demands of their master, the rest of the world, the multipolar world, begins to experience a boon of prosperity, independence, and genuine order. The American empire is still dangerous, as any large mortally wounded predator can be. In its dying rage, it is violently thrashing about seeking to steal, dominate, or destroy anything in reach. Lindsey Graham, wicked US SINator from South Carolina, and wanted terrorist number 3967 in Russia, lately let one cat out of the bag about the US seeking to loot trillions of dollars worth of minerals and elements from Project Ukraine (...and something, something democracy, and Putin’s aggression, etc.). I suppose the shame of the Upstate never read Saadi’s Pand Namah and the warning, “Beware! thou that art snared in the net of avarice...” (Or, supposing further, Romans 1:29.) Graham’s conniving blather represents a micro example of the kind of chaos Konstantin Malofeev warned about at a SPIEF 2024 panel discussion last week. Malofeev described the chaos as engineered, and to a degree, it certainly was, previously. The enemies of mankind had a plan. Or plans—too many of them to keep track of and make work, and now they are entangled and failing. Today, I think what is displayed is genuine mayhem completely out of control. Malofeev is completely correct, however, that the solution to the chaos is the sovereign, multipolar concept represented by the BRICS+ alliance. And he’s not just theoretically correct; the solution is playing out before our eyes. As for ending (petro)dollar dominance, last year, Olga Samofalova explored a variety of options available to Saudi Arabia to break free from America’s deal with the devil, namely dealing in national currencies, withdrawing investments in the US, and joining BRICS+. Right now, Riyadh is exercising the first and third options and is, along with other countries, monitoring and considering the second. One of those other countries, of course, is Russia, which, as Gleb Prostakov wrote in February 2023, is leading the charge to break what’s left of US dominance of the global energy market (and the US’s attendant indirect dominance of global affairs). One year later, the world is already a different place. The US dollar, while still powerful, is no longer the exclusive go-to currency for international settlements and trade. The US-led G7 has lost its primacy to BRICS+. Russia just pushed Japan aside to become the world’s fourth-largest economy as measured by PPP. Three of the top four world economies, China, India, and Russia, are BRICS+ members. There is a real struggle amidst all this change. As President Vladimir Putin said in his speech at the SPIEF plenary session, “We see a real race between countries to strengthen their sovereignty. And over three key levels—state, value-cultural and economic. At the same time, the countries that have recently been the leaders of global development are trying by all means, by hook or by crook, to preserve their elusive role of hegemony.” As others have said again and again, the current global conflict is truly a battle between the Believers in Almighty God and the minions of satan. On God’s side are Christians, Muslims, and their goodly allies. Theirs is the side of the multipolar, sovereign world. In time, victory will be theirs. And, as they watch the other side pay the devil his due, may they learn a lesson on how to never conduct business going forward. In this war, there is no Ring of Power. Still, the war must be won, and it will be. Let the wanton leaders of America and the West pay hell. All others, thank and praise Heaven. Deo vindice. This piece was published at Perrin Lovett on June 14, 2024.
 In the fading remains of the United States, there really are dark forces at work against the American people. A new study from Illinois uncovered mixed benefits and drawbacks associated with men becoming fathers. However, the popular US media spin was: “Having kids may shorten a man’s life, groundbreaking study reveals.” In other words, “Kids are messy, you can’t afford them, and they’ll just kill you anyway”. That might as well be America’s family planning mantra. Societies do not survive this way. Populations like America’s, that do not exceed two children per family, do not last. Elsewhere, more decent and intelligent people understand the importance of forming, promoting, and protecting families. Some countries are encouraging men to become fathers and women mothers. Russian Federation President Vladimir Putin recently stated that families with three or more children should become the norm. He also reassured families that the Russian government would be there to assist them as they perpetuate the existence of Russia. “Families with children” is the mantra of Russia. Part of assisting families and their children is maintaining excellent education at all levels. As for elementary and lower schools in Russia, I am not as familiar with the processes as I’d like. The consensus of those I’ve asked or read is that the learning afforded is good and better than the equivalent in America. At the college and university level, I trust things are also better in Russia. That’s because I trust the people in charge, from President Putin right down the line. I also know there is a necessary movement to separate Russian education from Western standards, a part of the larger bifurcation and liberation associated with Russia’s multipolar quest. Another man I trust, Leonid Savin, wrote a heckuva good article on intellectual standards and the need for Russian sovereign refinement. He noted that 1990s Western interference “led both to the meaninglessness of deep meanings and their replacement with surrogate terms, which began to be used at the reflex level, and to a constant movement to Western theories and concepts, instead of developing our own.” This is exactly what happened to American schools over the past century and a half. Whatever lingered from the Soviet system, even if deficient in some areas, was better than and preferable to the foisted alternative. The movement to reflexive surrogacy would have quickly given way to the total abandonment of literacy, numeracy, and public morality. The fact this progression was stopped or is being stopped is a miracle in and of itself. Savin goes on to discuss the pro-Russian transformation of college social sciences by keeping cherished traditions alive though updated to reflect the complexities of the evolving world. Call it “whole process” social science education, something in scholastic keeping, on Russian terms, with Professor Alexander Dugin’s Fourth Political Theory. Savin mentions Dugin’s work as the leader of the new Political Training and Scientific Center at Moscow’s Russian State University for the Humanities (RSUH). The Center’s purpose is “the development and implementation of a new approach (a new socio-humanitarian paradigm) to the domestic teaching of humanitarian and social disciplines, aimed at the formation of the worldview of students based on the Russian civilizational identity and traditional Russian spiritual and moral values.” In January, Dugin said at RSUH’s Transformation of Humanitarian Education seminar, “There has been a catastrophic degradation in Western historical science. .... This is evidenced by gender problems, postmodernism, and ultra-liberalism. We can study the West, but not as the ultimate universal truth. We need to focus on our own Russian development model.” Dugin’s program leadership earned the ire of the CIA Washington Post and some CIA pro-Western Telegram bots, so he must be off to a good start. (I suppose they were taken aback, like vampires offered Holy Water, by mention of spiritual and moral values.) I’m unsure when Dugin last visited an American university, but his first observation of catastrophe is an understatement. About the only courses of study in America that retain any semblance of excellence are those in mathematics and the hard science programs at certain elite engineering schools—and they are under heavy attack. However, he is correct that Western schools should be studied. They should be studied in two ways. First, they should be scanned for any useful remnants from the time when the West represented an actual Christian civilization. Second, they can be forensically studied like a cadaver in a postmortem examination in an attempt to find out what killed them. As part of its Western and non-Western integration, RSUH’s website asserts: “International cooperation is an important part of the internationalization strategy at RSUH. It is aimed at strengthening the university's competitive ability in Russia and abroad and its integration into the global education and research space.” This is, as stated, very important, yet the manner of execution might be even more important. My advice, should anyone want it, is to keep studying the cadavers while also selectively affiliating with the wider world. This could and probably will mean making adjustments to things like Russian participation in the Bologna Process and looking deeper into connections with BRICS+ countries and the Global South in general. Without my advice, they appear to be doing fine as-is, with RSUH being one of four Russian universities in a pilot program to monitor international cooperation. Russia’s societal heritage is the envy of much of the world because it has survived and built upon its ancient traditions. Those traditions, having yielded beauty, strength, and prosperity, obviously work. So does Russian innovation, in technology, economics, and other facets of (post)modern existence. Russians must continue to cling affectionately to the positive, purposefully abandon the negative, and embrace any helpful new processes or ideas in keeping with Russian customs regarding what is good, true, and beautiful. And, of course, it all starts with the Russian people themselves, with strong families and many wonderful children. Deo vindice. |
