Ab Ovo Usque Ad Mala

The time has come to say good-bye.

This is something I’ve been planning for a while now.  The moment has come when I need to step away from this blog, step away from Neoreaction, and cast myself into the turbulent seas of whatever fate awaits me.

Yes, this is a finale that has been in the works for months. I was tempted to do it as soon as I realized that the time had come, but there were certain loose ends that seemed worth tying up.

6a00d83451576d69e201a5115e4a3a970cBesides, I do have a certain time-preference, and I knew that if I held out for a little while longer, I could complete the circle.

Do you know why today is that day that I formally leave this sphere? It is because today is the day that formally I entered it.

August 3, 2013: A Legionnaire emerges, ready to join the fight against the progressive scourge.

August 3, 2015: Donovan Greene takes wing.

There’s something magical about that, is there not?

Is this over? Is this truly the end? Words seem to fail at describing the distinctions. Nothing ever truly ends. The cosmic perturbations last forever.

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Book Review: The Long Way Home

Today’s book review comes from (where else?) the request of a reader. Sanne Wijker is a reader of mine who herself blogs over at athriftyhomemaker.blogspot.nl. She is the author of the book “The Long Way Home”. She dropped me a friendly e-mail asking if I’d give it a look. Me being me, I did.

Before I even made it to the table of contents, I found myself gazing at the lyrics of a Manowar song.

It actually did a pretty good job of setting the tone for what turned out to be a thrilling adventure novel.

The story begins with a brief introduction to the two central characters and allows for a steady glimpse of the fantasy world that Wijker has created. I quickly found myself taking a liking to the character of Lennart, though I had a sinking feeling that he was being set up to be an eventual antagonist, given that he was being presented as a cold and pragmatic figure. Needless to say, I felt great relief when it turned out that he was to be the main character of this tale after all.

“Oh, you are hopeless,” sighed Brian. “You never can be serious, never.
Think about your honor. That swine called you —.”

“An idiot, I know, but I think I can live with it, while in your opinion my honor demands me to challenge him to a fight, kill him and get executed. No, thanks. I don’t like the idea. I have only one year left to go and then I will be free as a bird and with money in the bank, too. I’d rather stay alive.”

It is hard not to like a man with perspective and restraint (and lest certain of my readers find that this description of Lennart paints him as an unsympathetic a hero, I would let them know that he very quickly comes to learn which moral lines he will and will not cross, and his pragmatism is often tempered by his unyielding adherence to his moral code).

Neoreactionary themes are not hard to find, if you’re into that sort of thing. Some of them were painted into the work with a hammer, not a brush.

“The locals made a pretty mess out of things, what with uncontrolled immigration leading to an ethnic conflict which they did nothing to prevent, irresponsible spending and all other ill-conceived policies; at least now they’ll get some semblance of order. I’m not going to lose my sleep at night because of it,” replied Lennart calmly. He ordered another drink.

Ever present in the background is the fantasy of well-run societies, which is a soothing indulgence that should resonate quite strongly with many of you.

This in mind, Wijker could learn to do with a bit of subtlety. Everyone is almost always unbelievably honest, and I do mean unbelievably. It frequently jumps out at you how pretty much no one in the book ever fails to be completely straightforward and direct when conversing with others. Still, if you take it as being a part of the world that has been built, it is not too jarring, though it never stops being a bit odd. Additionally, people sometimes behave in ways that don’t quite make sense, though it always moves the story along and so such oddities are quickly forgotten.

As for the actual plot itself, it winds and weaves and it only rarely fails to be absolutely thrilling. Though the record seems to skip on the phonograph every once in a while, the sound is crisp and smooth. This is an exciting story that was great fun to read. Bumps and twists and turns and oddities aside, the simple fact of the matter is that this is a rewarding book that when you finish it makes you feel glad to have read it.

Buy it here if you’re interested.

Finally, some housekeeping: While I’ve certainly enjoyed this unofficial “book review week”, I must announce that I am no longer accepting requests for book reviews, for reasons that are perhaps a tad bittersweet.

Regular programing will resume unless otherwise stated.

Book Review: Death of the Family

Not too long after sharing my thoughts on marriage, journalist Christopher J. Green decided to share with me the results of his own investigations on the matter. He sent me a copy of his book “Death of the Family” and asked if I would review it for my readers. 

Green embodies the principle that from tragedy comes a craving for understanding, as travails in his own life drove him to understand why the principles in which he had such faith had been so catastrophic for him. This personal tumult lead him down a rabbit hole that he had been unprepared for, and shocked him into putting together this work.

“Death of the Family” is the result of three years of research, and it clearly shows. The book presents an incredible depth of history and philosophy, and even though I was generally familiar with the point of view that Mr. Green was espousing, I still found myself learning new things on almost every page.

Interestingly, in Western nations, those with the highest divorce rates also have the highest suicide rates.

Chapter seven, in particular, was a wealth of new facts for me, although the lack of citations did make me somewhat wary as to how much I ought to believe.

Despite being incredibly informative, this is not an opaque work. Green’s writing is brisk and precise, and it makes this book a quicker read than initial impression might suggest. Before you know it, you’ve torn through and absorbed a remarkable amount of information. It may be a Long March through the culture, but you won’t find your trip through the pages of this book to be one.

The tactic they developed to dismantle Western Culture is referred to as “Critical Theory” and is described by Max Horkheimer as a social theory oriented towards critiquing and changing society completely, as opposed to traditional theory which is mainly focused on understanding or explaining it.

Overall, “Death of the Family” is a pleasant jaunt though history that both exposes you to new ideas while serving up enough dosage of comforting shibboleths such that even a hardened neoreactionary need feel no apprehension about sliding right in.

Nazism belongs very firmly on the left, slightly to the right of communism along with Fascism.

No enemies to the right, and all that.

Remember you discovered that the USSR was born out of revolutionary socialism? Gramsci’s theories now moved Marxism into evolutionary socialism.

The book gives an exemplary overview of the Cultural Marxist theory of Anglo-American cultural subversion and should be commended on that front. Yet, if that were all that this book were, it wouldn’t be getting a review. The attention it pays to the slow erosion of marriage and the results that this has on society is what really earns the book its commendation. It’s narrative on the degradation of marriage is sure to hit home for many who feel that their instincts are better suited for an entirely different time, and it magnificently drives home the point that the family truly is the bedrock of civilization.

Now, it was a little heavy on fnords at times, and there were certain points that were very deserving of a little push-back (Herbert Marcuse’s critiques of democracy — presented as reprehensible — will probably sound on-point to pretty much all of my audience), but a dispute in the mind of the reader should not constitute an indictment on the objective facts laid out in the book. This is a good quality work that reads well and is very informative. It does exactly what it set out to do and is, in my book, worth a perusal.

If you’re interested, you can buy a copy at deathofthefamily.com.

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.

The Peacock and the Raven

“You’re not the kind of person I would normally be attracted to. I mean, you’re a little full of yourself.”

“More than a little.”

“And you’re also not my usual type. You’re not as tall, not as rugged. You’re not as built, not as athletic. I usually go for guys who are more aggressive…”

“Rawr.”

“…But I still think you’d be really good in bed.”

The above, as always, comes from a recent conversation.

They say that everything in life is about sex, except sex, which is about power. It would make life a tad less contentious if everyone could agree on who said it first, but I suppose not everyone is capable of doing a quick Google search to see that it was Oscar Wilde, not Frank Underwood, who penned the original quote.

Millennials, am I right?

My dinner companion that evening was, sadly, not Oscar Wilde. Indeed, he was quite a bit less talented, though no less gay. He was also far less flamboyant, but I think this sprung merely from his utter inability to be anything more than mildly interesting or unconventional.

Decent chap, though. Worth heading down with to the local pub with for drinks and burgers. Honest chap. Authentic one. You know the type. One of those people who wouldn’t know how to be dishonest even if he tried. That was probably why, without even trying, I soon had him admitting that he would totally have sex with me if I was interested in that sort of thing.

People will always trip over themselves to spill their guts to you. It’s kind of funny, really. By the way, if you ever want to ensure that your secrets are safe, cultivate a reputation as an honest and open person. Only the very clever will ever suspect anything.

There’s a certain type of person who believes it to be the height of good conversation to share exactly what they think of you and then have you do the same for them. I can’t say I’ve understood this urge. I’ve never exactly been all that interested in what people think of me. I’ve always placed far greater weight on how they actually treat me.  Besides, people will always let you know what they think of you. They just rarely say it. If you have to ask someone directly what they think of you, all that you’re doing is admitting that 1) You’re vain and 2) you lack the ability to read their body, face, tone, choice of words, little tics, reflexes, and all the other subtle ways they reveal themselves.

But as always, I digress. Back to sex.

Homosexuality is interesting from an intellectual point of view because it often manifests itself as a sort of reductio ad absurdum of male sexual instincts (here is where I will give a hopefully unnecessary reminder that this blog has always operated under Glanton’s Law).

High emphasis on physical appearance. Strong drive for casual sex. A not infrequent tendency to view anyone and everyone within your target group as a potential sexual partner, without necessarily taking into account their sexual orientation.

My friend even seemed confused by the idea that you could be sexually attracted to someone for reasons other than their bodies. Needless to say, it was an amusing reaction from someone who had just admitted to me that he wanted to have sex with me because of my personality.

It’s always amusing to stumble upon the limits of someone’s self-awareness.

The human psyche is layers upon layers upon layers upon layers. Most people have no idea how deep they really go. That doesn’t mean they have all that many layers, though. Most people don’t. They just aren’t good at diving deep.

What was I talking about? Oh yes, sex. How amusing that I am so easily distracted by the thought of it, and yet trying to keep a blog post about it on track is so difficult.

Is this really about sex, though?

Is anything I ever write really about what I say it is?

Sex.

Interesting documentary. I recommend watching the whole thing if you have time. Here’s a choice quote worth digging into:

“For the most part, males display, females choose”.

For the most part. Is this true of humans? Not usually. Usually, human females are the ones adorning themselves in order to appear more attractive to the male of the species. The equation, however, cuts both ways when it comes to certain markers of status, such as muscles and material demonstrations of wealth and power. Display status markers, observe as females choose you by giving you the opportunity to initiate the mating dance. Everything really is better when you’re high status.

The best part about this documentary, however, is the bit when it tosses out the idea that certain types of sexual selection can lead to extinction of the species when the females get too invested in choosing attributes that are harmful for long-term survival. This is amusing at first, and then, like a bad aftertaste, it hits you that there’s no reason why humans would be exempt from this. The chills set in when examples of this, both historical and contemporary, start to come to mind.

It almost leads one to believe that restricting female mate choices in a system in which fathers and husbands rule over their wives and daughter might have some merit. It also leads one to the conclusion that if patriarchy constitutes a type of social engineering, then clearly not all forms of social engineering are necessarily harmful and/or leftist in nature.

I wish I had some snappy conclusion to finish this off, but I don’t, so let’s go with that old Nietzschean maxim:

The degree and kind of a man’s sexuality reach up into the pinnacle of his spirit.

Beyond Good and Evil, §75

A man’s entire personality is expressed in his sexuality, and a man’s entire sexuality is expressed in his personality. That is probably something worth digging into at a later time.

And hey, because this post was about sexuality, more aesthetics.

sunflower dress

This is a habit that is probably killing any pretense that might still have existed of my being a “respectable” neoreactionary blogger, but it’s too much fun not to whip it out every once in a while.

Follow the Dark

I found myself walking along an untrod path last night. The time must have been a little after midnight. Naught but a few lonely streetlamps lit up this path, this path so far from all human life save one. As I walked on, I began to wish that the lights would vanish, and that I could fully weave myself into the darkness spreading its wings all around me. As if by magic, the lights began to go out one by one as I walked by them, illuminating the path I had taken with a trail of darkness.

I reached the end of the road. I looked back and saw nothing but the night. I was at peace.

They say humans are a diurnal species. They say we rise with the sun and set with the sun. It certainly makes sense. Poor night vision. Questionable hearing. Fear of the dark. These are not the qualities we would expect of a nocturnal creature.

Haven Monahan over at Social Matter points out that beauty is not solely in the eye of the beholder, but that certain aesthetic preferences are hard-wired in humans, such as a preference for women in red. I too love a woman in red, but it is not just red that elicits a visceral response. It is also with black.

What is black? It is a color of foreboding. It is a color of evil.

Who wears black? Villains. Bad guys. Anti-heros. Misfits who wish to set themselves apart. Would-be succubi and incubi who wish to portray themselves as dark and mysterious.

Would Darth Vader have been as fearsome in a coat of red? Would Dobermans look nearly so menacing if they were bright orange? Why do we not portray vampires or witches in shades of vibrant yellow?

Black is the color of evil because black is the color of night, and humans fear the night.

I’ve long suspected that the implicit bias against blacks that has been found in both whites and blacks at least partly derives from this innate apprehension when confronted with the dark.

Vampires. Hellhounds. Werewolves. The night plays host to all of our fears; a blank canvas upon which to scrawl all the horrors of our imagination. You will note that humans do not project the same madness upon the day. This should tell you much.

A species bred to fear the dark will always choose to walk in the light.

If you wish to make yourself more than just a man, you must learn to embrace the light of the dark.

The Sigma Point

Study hard. Be a good girl. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

You would do anything, Donovan.

Readers will note that this blog has drawn quite a bit more on personal experience and thoughts than it used to. That has been partly intentional, and partly unintentional.

I’m not too worried. This focus has led to some posts that I’m quite proud of, and it spices up these walls. Still, it’s something that should at least be acknowledged.

This isn’t to say that it’s going to be toned down, of course. It’s quite fun to let these little tidbits of my personality soak into my writing.

I think it has become increasingly clear (and not just to me) that the theme of this blog is “Fragments”. Sometimes that means fragments of an abstract nature, dealing with complex ideas. Sometimes it means drawing on personal experiences to develop certain concepts. Sometimes it means riffing on something I did in real life to make a point.

Fragments that may or not be part of a greater whole.

Speaking of fragments, quite some time ago I wrote this, claiming the term “Sigma Point” and proposing a big, grand idea. I never did get around to discussing it. Quite a pity. Part of that was that I am somewhat disorganized and I never did get my notes in order. Here’s a step toward remedying that oversight. Buckle your seatbelt, because this is going to get abstract:

  • The teleology of society is to perpetuate inequality
  • Cycles of upward and downward income mobility exert various cultural and biological selection pressures on the population
  • Assortive mating leads to genetic differences among higher class and lower class members of society (all societies develop some sort of social strata eventually)
  • What effect does this have on behavior? Need more data to know
  • Psychopathy. Does it get more prevalent over time? Or does it simply get rewarded more the more a society ages? Intuition is that the more corrupt a society a is (in the sense of Tacitus: having more laws, but also in having more and more intricate rules and social rituals), the more power and resources psychopaths will be able to acquire
  • Inclusive institutions (re: Acemoglu & Robinson) will almost always turn into exclusive institutions given enough time (note that this does not overlook that the reverse can also happen)
  • “Sigma Point” = that time in which society is run by a small group of elite who possess genetic, financial, and political resources that cannot be touched by the rest of the population. Imagine if the 1% of the 1% (of the 1%) literally had everything (gini coefficient of ridiculous) and were able to run circles around the masses such that they (the masses) were always doing exactly what the elites want them to do

Admittedly, these are just some of my notes (not all…there’s a good chunk still hiding away in my notebooks), they aren’t organized in the right order, and they don’t exactly flesh out the relationships between these things (basically, the idea is that as time goes on, these developments all reinforce each other, allowing societal entropy to develop at an exponential, not linear, rate), but I figure this is a good start. I’ll write more about all this if there’s an audience for it. I’m putting it out here now so that anyone who wants to can take the concept and run with it. There’s only so much I can do, after all.

Is it still a rough idea? Of course. I didn’t exactly work on it anywhere near as much as I said I would. Still, I think at this point it’s better to throw what I have out there than continue to keep sitting on it. Ten and a half months is plenty of time to procrastinate.

How accurate is this model? Like I said, it’s rough. Very rough. It requires quite a few prerequisites (social mobility, some form of assortive mating [even if not widespread, though this would limit certain affects, even if not all of them]…etc). Still, societal entropy, even though it can take different paths depending on the civilization, does seem to have a few principles in common (or at least, a few principles that occur more often than others).

Pushback on this would be appreciated, of course. Hell, if anyone kills the concept entirely, it might even be a bit of a relief.

Oh, and because I’m on a roll with throwing stuff out there, I’ll let this slip as well: I finally figured out the final answer to “What is Neoreaction?”. The only problem? It ties too much in with a bunch of work I’ve done under my real name, so discussing it here would put up too many dots that could potentially be connected. C’est la vie, am I right? I’ll try to leak the idea out somehow, but it might take some semantic trickery. Or just some strange e-mails with no context. We’ll see.