Of Faith, Folk & Perspective:
An Essay with a Volta
Juleigh Howard-Hobson
1,420 words
There’s a lot of despair lately. The folk — as a genetically identifiable people — is endangered. Our folkways are all but lost. Our attempts to reconnect are perceived as racist, xenophobic, and worse. Our sacred symbols have been flagged as hate icons. Our native lands are no longer recognizable as such. The calls to the Islamic faithful ring out over the graves of our ancestors, while here in the outposts where I am located, the grocery aisles have discarded liverwurst and pumpernickel in favor of Vietnamese salad wraps.
We, as a folk, are subjected to modern life in all its negative lessenings. Our contemporary lives are set in the midst of too much of everything — too many people bringing too much over-fishing, over-farming, over-polluting, over-encroaching, over-marketing, over-extending . . . over-crowding . . . Hyperinflation, food shortages, gas shortages, urban areas where even the police do not enter without back up, shored up next to mass media images and sounds coming at us in a never ending stream from billboards, magazines, shopping carts, the sides of buses, the sides of buildings, clothing, televisions, computers, radios, headphones, cell phones . . . jangling, rapping, throbbing, blaring in obnoxious colors with obnoxious messages designed to sell us or tell us the next thing we need to buy or need to know. Very very little of it is life enhancing. Very very little is designed to be.
Our histories, our classics, our ways of thought, our heroes, our foods, our outlooks, our values, our art, our own places in this world . . . all are threatened. Without a past, does a people have a future? The way it feels, our future is nothing now but an ugly empty march into uglier meaninglessness . . . and then extermination–if not as a whole species, then most probably as a folk.
Sometimes it feels bleak.
But — is it really bleak, or does it merely feel bleak? I pose this question in all sincerity because somewhere, deep inside me, I suspect this: we are being made to feel it’s all over but the crying (which we are doing right now and will in itself be done shortly) . . . because if we feel it long enough, we’ll believe it. And when we believe it . . . we’ll have it.
I will not believe that we as a folk, as a people, as a race are close to the brink — at least not more than we ever have been. (I’m talking ever: black plague, pole shifts, witch hunts, you name it). I grew up in the ’70s. I grew up soaking in a fetid deluge of end times . . . the end of the rivers (remember the water conservation movement?), the end of the eagles (remember the DDT articles in the papers?), the end of tuna fish sandwiches (I think they are still talking about that one), the end of big trees, family farms, the ozone, the rain forests, the whales, the oceans, pandas, polar bears, elephants, white people, poor children in Third World countries. . . .
I also grew up – at the same time and at the same level of saturation—amidst all sorts of other things that were going to either bring about world peace (have a Coke and a smile) or world damnation (acid rain): McDonald’s, carbon 14 dating, feminism, trips to the moon (rumors that there were no trips to the moon), partially hydrogenated soy bean oil, fluoride, radiation, high fructose corn syrup, global warming, plastic everything . . . and don’t forget the bees. I am talking about both the African Killer Bees that were going to sting us all to death, and the hive collapses of the honey bees that were going to starve us all to death with lack of pollination . . .
Nothing happened like they said it would. There are still pandas. There are still poor children in Third World countries. No one is particularly radiated. No one is stung to death. All those kids who ate all those bowls of sugar cereal right through the ’70s and ’80s are now my age and still (for the most part) alive and kicking. With, presumably, their teeth (that were going to rot out of their heads). There are still white people. There are still rivers. There are still millions of Asians making plastic crap in badly ventilated factories and eating poorly regulated foods who are not diminishing in number like they ought to be if plastic, bad air, bad food, and panda endangerment did the things to us like they said they would.
I used to worry about so many things. Fears would loom large, then get pushed back into less intense lumination (as opposed to illumination) by newer looming fears. Mad cow disease was replaced by e-coli. Carjacking was replaced by wilding was replaced by flash mobs. The loss of the ozone was replaced by loss of homelands was replaced by loss of entire civilization. Y2K was replaced by 2012. Black power by La Raza by Imam Centers . . . all coming to grab me and kill me and replace my race. Soon.
I don’t buy any of it anymore. I don’t. It’s been half a century of various looming fears coming into my consciousness and wandering about in the foreground and then in the background of my head . . . and, so far, I’m not seeing what they told me to be very very scared of.
I’m seeing something else though. What I’m seeing is a pattern. A pattern of over-whelmingness. If you have a generation growing up learning about how very limited their future is, because of how gravely ill their world is, you will get a generation that is not going to be that interested in long range plans . . . for anything. Why bother to save our folk if we are going to die of dirty water? Why bother to save the waterways if we are doomed to radiation sickness? Why bother with anything, really, it’s all going downhill and we are the last of it all. No more trees, no more bees, no more us.
Well, we were the last until that damn Generation Y came along. Then Generation Z. I think we’ve gone back around to Generation A now . . .
And still here we are. Are there fewer of us? Are there more of us? I don’t know if that matters, because the thing is — we are still here. Along with the tuna. And the pandas. Pandas who drink water.
Shouldn’t it all be gone by now? I mean, really think about it — who, reading this, hasn’t spent his or her life under the impression that the rain forests are horribly threatened and are being knocked down as we read? Five acres every minute, wasn’t it? I don’t know about your calculations, but . . . I grew up thinking that we had a certain sized planet that didn’t grow. For there to be still more rain forest left, after 30 years of hearing about how it is being razed, we would have to have access to more rainforests . . . or more land. Or both. I don’t know, maybe we do. Maybe, though, just maybe, those rainforests weren’t getting hit as badly as they were being made out to be. Maybe I didn’t have to forgo the Brazil nuts throughout the ’80s.
Don’t get me started on the tuna sandwiches I missed.
In the light of all this, I refuse to be disheartened anymore. I refuse to live under the ever-present threat of mass extinction of who I am, whether it is my folk or my planet going belly up under me. I refuse to continue to participate in squandering the forces of energies that can be spent on higher things than listening to teeth gnashing about the news that comes out of agenda-filled multi-cultural mass media world news headquarters. You can if you want to — and I suppose some of you will — but finally, after a life time full of pointless fears, vague uneases, and worries about so many things that I couldn’t do anything about anyway, I’m done.
I don’t think it’s as bad as they want us to think it is. I don’t think it ever was. I don’t think it ever quite will be. Difficult sometimes? Sure. Troublesome? Of course. Do we need to protect our borders, avoid rabid dogs, and wash produce before we eat it? Yes. Bleak and hopeless and worsening every day with nothing but planetary (maybe even universal) doom and massive human termination — most particularly for us — ahead . . . ? No, not at all.
Note
“Volta” is a term used in formal poetry. It refers to the place in a sonnet where a sudden change of direction occurs.
12 comments
Three cheers. The best thing I ever did for myself was cancel television and avoid nihilists.
There is a place for despair though. Once you are out of it, there is no going back.
“Racism is the fastest grown trend in the White community right now, and for good reason. We need to do all we can to promote this hopeful step in the right direction.”
-Rev. Jed DeValleyism, “Racism isn’t a sin- it’s an instinctive prayer for White survival,” 2008
Well said. How often do we hear that long-term planning, via millennia spent suffering the Ice Age, is what separates us from the rest of humanity? Seems then that the best way to make us indistinguishable from the rest of humanity is to take that unique trait from us.
Destroying the White-built environment and culture that erects the barriers that protect White privilege is the primary agenda of our hateful enemies.
That’s why everything is now UGLY, because if White Humanity sees beauty, “racism will rear its ugly head”.
“But the grand secret of the separation, or the separate existence, of the races, is the Love of the Beautiful, that instinctive and innate feeling wisely implanted by the Creator in us; it will forever and ever keep the higher race distinctive from the inferior races.”
-John Campbell, Negromania, 1851
Sometimes we feel optimistic. Sometimes pessimistic. That’s the nature of feelings – to change. That’s why statistics, science, and logic have a role to play. Looking at it objectively, we have great reason to fear as we will soon be a minority in most of our lands. We can feel optimistic or pessimistic, but this is the simple fact – if things don’t change or get changed. I’d say things look pretty pessimistic. Species do go extinct – ask the Dodo if you can find one. And Whites once lived deep in Western China but now – not one. We will go extinct if trends continue as they are.
Of course this Fact should inspire us to action not acquiescence and despair.
I like this essay because it expresses something that I have felt every since I was a kid: apocalypse fatigue. The fact that our people do face extinction tends to get drowned out in the chatter of other dire predictions. We really do need other ways to motivate our people besides desire long-term predictions, true as those are in our case.
This is beautiful. There has been a lot of talk lately about the need for this movement to not only criticize modern society, but also paint a picture of something better. The first step of attracting people to our cause is to inspire hope. We need more pieces like this.
A word on voluntarism: “The Future is indeed within us and is woven by ourselves. Not being fixed, like the Past, it can be transformed by our own efforts. The Reparable of the present soon becomes the Irreparable of the future. The action of Chance, that is to say, of unknown causes, is considerable in the march of events, but it has never yet stopped a nation from deciding its own fate.” Gustave Le Bon, The World Unbalanced (London: Unwin, 1924), p. 12.
I like this spirit of happy defiance a lot!
The media are always full of serious MORALITY, about victims and sufferings and hardships and sincerity. To undermine their story, we should not pit our seriousness against theirs, because the then we accept their framing of issues. No, let us accept to be happy devils. Then we step out of the box the media have framed us in. We do not try to untie the moral Gordian Knot, we slice it with a sword, just like Alexander.
This is a kind of “gay wickedness”, which is very uplifting. For example, saying to some PC-guy: “Yeah, sure, the white race is evil and is dying out, whatever you say… But now that you are here, could you just help me to put this nice portrait of Uncle Adolf on the wall? You know, he just looks so handsome in his blue uniform! It goes so well with those beautiful blue eyes…” and then: “Why don’t you laugh? Don’t you understand a joke?”
There are people with a certain mentality of “active pessimism”. In the long run we are all going to die anyway. Certainly the White race as we know it won’t make it forever and ever. Someday any known race and culture will have disappeared from this planet, even the Chinese and the Jews. That’s not even “pessimist”, it is a fact. And in any age we live in there will always be some threat, some plague, some treason, some injustice, some mongol invasion, some disaster, some end of the world coming ahead. There is always an enemy, and always an excuse for slaughter. There won’t be any golden age where everything stops for good and lives happily ever after. Decline and fall is perennial, even for our enemies. So, what’s new under the sun? Now we can relax and start doing our stuff. If we can create something now in our lifes it is as good as anything future generations will maybe achieve. If they fail, even more so. In fact there is no alternative. We must walk on where we stand.
Come to think how each of us alive now is an unlikely result of a long chain of ancestors making it through wars, famines, disasters, flood, earthquakes, plagues, disease, fear, massacres, violence, wild animal attacks, bad weather….
THEIR GOAL IS GENOCIDE. OURS. WHAT’S YOURS?
If you read the metahistorians, you realize that any single event, no matter how tragic, is simply a ripple on the broad waters of the Mississippi. What helps us to harness the power of the Mississippi, and bend it to our Will, is the ability to comprehend what is happening in the abstract, while moving steadily forward in building the better world.
Most of us do not want to do this, and most of us get what we deserve. This is the synthetic Reality formed for us by our Enemies, placing us in their service. An important element of this is demoralization, as described by Yuri Bezmenov.
I think I can see this clearly in reading the analyses of how the people of Germany used the NSDAP Cultural Moment to express their dreams, manifest their Destiny, and move forward toward the stars.
In our country, the Children of the Sixties, the long-planned harvest of the Frankfurt School, hate America and the White Race reflexively, and this generation will pay the price for that. The demoralization took too well, and is manifested in hedonism, described as the triumph of despair over Destiny.
This is what we must overcome, and can do so fairly easily, by choosing not to be victims. Listen to the speeches of Jonathan Bowden, and you can just feel the absolute sense of certainty, righteousness, and joy, that flows from him while he is speaking.
I suspect there is a Reason for that, and it is a very good reason, indeed.
I would like to tie this into the mindset of those who came before us, who hoped someone, somehow, would save us from ourselves. DeWest Hooker, for example, or, well, the list goes on.
Nobody is going to do for us what we chose THIS Incarnation to do.
If we are fortunate, one generation gets Uncle Adolph, one generation gets Yockey, and the generation that follows gets the occasional Elder of the Druidic Order of the Pagan Priesthood.
If we can accept this good fortune, we should nurture the soil from which such will be able to help guide us forward in the future. Sending money to counter-currents, each and every month, is as excellent place to start.
What’s In YOUR Future? Focus Northwest!
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