Book Review: Breakfast with the Dirt Cult

This post has been a long time coming.

Though I’ve almost succeeded in cleansing myself of any and all redeeming qualities, I still have this nagging tendency to live up to the promises that I keep. As such, today I live up to a promise I made quite some months ago, and review reader Samuel Finlay’s book Breakfast with the Dirt Cult.

I realized fairly early on that this was a book written straight from the heart, as one of the earliest sequences covers the meeting of Tom Walton (a barely-disguised author avatar) and the stripper Amy, a sweet and lovable girl possessing a rich intellectual and emotional depth. It’s a starting point that not only invests you heavily into the narrative, but also softens you up nicely for the turbulence ahead.

The book is essentially a novelized autobiography, and so Finlay is able to layer the narrative with the type of male banter that only a veteran could write. It provides a nice bit of levity to the story, and it helps grease the process of reading through the various pre-deployment unit shenanigans (which were certainly entertaining, although they did admittedly constitute the slowest part of the book…the calm  before the storm, as it were).

“Specialist Bastick, take it easy on my doorframes in the barracks. They haven’t been used in a while so when you bring your fat chicks up you need to grease them first.”

I often find it hard to root for the main characters in the book I read, which is perhaps why I gravitate towards non-fiction so much these days. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that I didn’t have this problem with Breakfast with the Dirt Cult. The main character is, at his core, an honest and good-hearted person, which was no great shock to me, for in my brief correspondence with Mr. Finlay, I can attest that he is very much a good, honest, authentic person. It was impossible not to wish the best for him.

This, more than any other reason, was why I was wiling to review his book. Of course, his particular sense of humor didn’t hurt either.

Afghanistan in August is the geographic equivalent of trying to hump an angry, fat, red-assed baboon whilst sober.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t burst out laughing at that bit.

Were this just a book about picking up strippers and bantering with comrades, it would be an entertaining beach read. However, this is not just shallow entertainment. References abound to figures like Toynbee, Juvenal, and Ibn Khaldun, and many of the passages should have a special resonance to those across the broader alternative right.

So this was the glorious cause for which the feminists had fought. They’d struggled for, and won, a world where men were seen as the problem and women as the solution. Women were deemed inherently “right” and needed a man “like a fish needs a bicycle.” Men, however, were pigs, and were perceived as semi-functional retarded pariahs without a woman. A woman’s sexuality was good and healthy; a man’s, toxic and perverse. A woman could commit a wrong and the chattering classes would come out of the woodwork spouting Marxist bullshit to frame her as the victim rather than the perpetrator. A man, though, was guilty until proven innocent.

It’s this melding of the “high” and the “low” that made this work most intriguing to me. It oozes with the same sort of insights that Neoreaction prides itself on, while speaking from a position of being firmly rooted in the sort of down-to-earth common sense that is often absent in that which is more purely intellectual.

So long as the words were pretty and the cage was shiny people didn’t give a damn who held the key.

Is that not one of the most accurate assessments of power you’ve ever encountered?

The more Walton saw of the world, the more he found the classical thinkers to be a damn sight more sensible than the modern eggheads who held totalitarian wishful thinking as a civic religion.

At it’s core, Breakfast with the Dirt Cult is the story of a life journey. It is the story of a man who sees the world and realizes that so much is wrong with the way we do things, and yet is still powerless to do anything about it. I think many of you would be sympathetic to such a thing, and that is why I think that if you’re reading this blog, you would like this book.

Buy it here if you’re interested.

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