Counter-Currents
Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Berlin
1,328 words
I consider social media the biggest pestilence on the culture since the opioid crisis. . . and before that, the mass-dosing of the populace with antidepressants. . . and before that, the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965. . . but social media is good for a few things.
For one, it permits me to advertise my latest articles and books and podcast appearances. For another, it’s the best way in world history to reconnect with people who’ve dropped out of your life for entirely benign reasons.
Enter Miss M — a New York Jew who can’t go five minutes without reminding you that she’s a New York Jew. Imagine Bettie Page with Ashkenazi features. A few days ago, she found me on one of the very few social media platforms that I use.
In the late 90s while I was imprisoned, Miss M used to send me pictures of herself (fully clothed ones — naked ones couldn’t get past the censors there) and friendly letters that revealed she was literate, funny, and irreverent.
She was around 20 back then, while I was pushing 40. At the time, I was mostly known for being a violent maniac, which has never hurt my prospects with the ladies. In fact, I never got much action with the ladies at all until I was widely known as a violent maniac. Female psychology is a strange and sick thing.
When you’re surrounded by nothing but male piss and sweat for over a year, any kind of female contact — even in a written letter — is welcome.
There had never been the merest hint of sex talk between us, but now she tells me — 22 years or so after the fact — that the pussy knows what it wants, and that’s why she wrote me back then, and that, duh, I should have realized that.
I only met her in the flesh once — around 2001 in Manhattan when she was already married and I was arm-in-arm with another Jewish girl who, as luck would have it, could never shut up about being Jewish and all the persecution and suffering her people had been forced to endure, despite being acutely aware that her background was much cushier and less trauma-laden than mine.
It appears that Jews never get tired of being Jews, despite all the pain they say it causes them.
The last time Miss M and I swapped any messages was around 2011, and she was bursting with glee about the “Iron Dome” and how it was protecting Israel.
She’s been with her husband for over two decades. He’s a retired Irish NYC cop who, long before retirement age, seems to have been granted a permanent leave of absence and a lifetime pension for PTSD. According to her, neither one of them has a full-time job, and they both travel the globe endlessly, which must be nice when you’re only in your mid-40s.
But it didn’t take her long to start kvetching about how fucked-up Trump was and how Jordan Peterson, Tony Robbins — what? — and Gavin McInnes had helped to soil the culture with their toxic maleness.
I told her that black women outlive white men in the US — which is a fact and has been at least since the early 1970s — and that I’m sick of the endless browbeating.
She took the hint and quickly switched to another topic.
She told me that she recently tried explaining the 1990s to a 30-year-old girl and was greeted with a blank stare. I replied that the 90s were when you could disagree with someone and not lose your job or have them try to murder you.
You can buy Jim Goad’s Whiteness: The Original Sin here.
And that was true — back in the 90s, there was at least a sense that we were on common ground in America — that from coast to coast, despite ideological or genetic differences, at least the country felt like one solid chunk of land.
Another thing about the 90s was that no one who was remotely hip ever talked about politics.
She asked when I was going to come see her in NYC, which seemed rather forward for a happily married woman who’d been informed that I was married and, for the first time in my life, was deliriously happy as a result.
She inquired where she could catch up with my latest writings and creative efforts. I tried to tell her where I was working — one place being Gavin McInnes’ paywall video site Censored.TV — but the message wouldn’t send. So I removed the reference to Censored.TV. It still wouldn’t send. Then I removed the term “Counter-Currents.com,” replacing the names of both sites with [REDACTED], and the message finally sent.
I noted that we live in a world where people shit their pants over Trump but don’t seem the least bit concerned that Big Tech won’t allow me to tell someone where I work.
I offered to send her some of my newer books so she could catch up on my writing. In return, she offered to send me a picture of her tits.
I told her — in a joking way because I’m intimately familiar with how women react when you straightforwardly reject their advances — that it was obvious what she was doing. I said this was clearly part of some Mossad honeytrap against me when I was happy with a woman for the first time in my life.
Regarding the offer of free books, she told me that I’m a real mensch, which is a word, she informed me as if I didn’t already know, that her “Ashkenazi people” use.
It occurred to me that as a “Nazi,” I’ve never once used a phrase analogous to “my European people” with her. I never browbeat her about the rampant anti-white bilge constantly pumped out by Jewish-owned media companies.
I said that it’s always amused me that the dominant strain of Jews has the word “Nazi” in its name.
She agreed and then switched the topic to travel. She asked me if I’d ever been to Germany — of course.
I told her I’d only been in Europe once — in 1985 for six weeks after graduating from journalism school. I wasn’t impressed with London or Paris but absolutely loved Berlin, Amsterdam, and Italy.
Maybe it was the fact that I said something positive about Berlin that set off the alarm on her Ziological Clock.
She pecked out a message about the history of European anti-Semitism and how the Jews insisted that a certain church building in Europe be kept standing just as a shame-inducing testament to how horribly the Europeans treated Jews.
Boy, when they said “never forget,” they weren’t kidding.
Did I need this? I’m supposed to just casually accept the guilt-tripping?
I typed out an angry message.
I said that I find Jews worse than Catholics with the endless shaming.
I said that the two World Wars arranged by bankers left about 100 million Europeans dead.
I mentioned the 45-55 million dead European civilians from World War II that no one ever seems to mention — especially the fact that 45 is a much larger number than six.
I told her that just like blacks, Jews seem saturated with the sort of ethnic self-interest that they absolutely demonize in whites, but if I’d dared to bask in my racial identity like she does, the FBI would open a file on me.
But instead of diving into yet another tiresome internet argument, I blocked her from my profile.
It would have been fun to continue talking about the 1990s and serial killers and Satanism and why I prefer early 1970s British glam rock to punk rock and why Eddie Cochran was superior to Elvis, but the clock has seemed to run out on such conversations.
I once read that debates are only useful if you and your opponent share the same goal. Clearly, she and I don’t share the same goals. It would be like arguing with someone who speaks another language.
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22 comments
Can’t say I was familiar with you or your work in the 1990s; presume that was when you still believed the basis of most conflict was class rather than race. I realize I’m not like most people because I shun all social media and have not looked up a single person from my past. As a matter of fact, I long ago cut off contact with the few I had kept up with. While I was never known as a “violent maniac” and my basic character has not changed, my worldview has undergone such a dramatic shift that I would have nothing to talk about with most of those I knew when young and stupid. Your reminiscence reminds me that 1) Most of us did some stupid things; 2) Some of us grow up not merely grow old; 3) Jews are solipsistic, neurotic nuts. Congratulations on cutting a potential cancer out of your life and awareness.
“…when you still believed the basis of most conflict was class rather than race.”
It’s not an either/or question. I still believe class is tremendously important and that one of the hugest failings of the “Dissident Right,” or whatever they’re rebranding it as this week, is its open contempt for poor and working-class whites. It’s probably the main reason they’re unable to build a coalition worth a shit.
Point taken. I place race first as the cause of conflict but have come to accept the importance of class as I’ve grown older and seen the country and the world outside the liberal suburban bubble I was raised in.
Jews are the only group of people I’ve ever known to have their demeanor instantly change upon hearing that a person is German whether it’s through hearing their name or direct admission after being asked what their ethnicity is. You could be hitting it off with them having a pleasant conversation then, upon realizing you’re German, suddenly act like you personally betrayed them and treat you like you’re Satan himself. Lord help you if you ever find yourself in criminal court with a jewish judge with a blatantly German surname, I had one who compared my case to the Nuremberg Trials and then proceeded throw the book at me. For my part I told him that my great uncle was in the SS and that I inherited his homemade kosher soap bars, it was pretty funny but admittedly it really didn’t help my situation- not that I gave a shit anyway.
Some yenta in heat DM’s you out of the blue offering to send nudes. Yet uses the opportunity to beat you over the head about her ethnic group and their sorrows. Chutzpah.
I’m tempted to think getting the nudes first before blocking and then forwarding to her husband would’ve been the funnier route. But knowing those “New York City” types, HE would probably sue!
Saying “yeah, send me a picture of your Jewish bazooms” would have been a betrayal of the only sane and kind woman I’ve ever been with: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10157418248758355&set=pb.515598354.-2207520000
Larry David needs to do a Curb episode where Jim Goad is some buxom Jewess’ plus one at a Passover seder.
Among the many wise things Samuel Huntington wrote was a taxonomy of relationships. He applied it to nations but it works just as well for any other kind of connections, including eros and romance. Ethical expectations and obligations must be keyed very specifically for each category.
A. true friends who will be with us and we with them through thick and thin
B. opportunistic allies with whom we have some but not all interests in common
C. strategic partner-competitors with whom we have a mixed relationship
D. antagonists who are rivals but with whom negotiation is possible
E. and unrelenting enemies who will try to destroy us unless we destroy them first.
The tricky ones are those who masquerade as one but actually behave as the other. The Kings and Queens of Crypsis excel at this game, as your Yiddishe “admirer” proved. As they always do.
At the risk of seeming frivolous, can Mr Goad please explain how Eddie Cochran was better than Elvis?
Great Cochran songs: C’Mon Everybody; Completely Sweet; Pink Peg Slacks
Great early Elvis recordings: That’s Alright; Rip It Up; Just Because; I’m Left, You’re Right, She’s Gone; Mystery Train; My Baby Left Me; Lawdy, Miss Clawdy
Great post-Army Elvis: Working on the Building; I’ll Remember You; That’s Someone You Never Forget; Good Time Charlie’s Got the Blues; Tomorrow Is a Long Time; You Asked Me To; Until It’s Time for You to Go; Make the World Go Away
And great in its own Vegas way: Suspicious Minds
By the way, Elvis was technically Jewish, by maternal descent, and during his formative years his family lived beneath an Orthodox rabbi in a two-family house. Further, much of his inner circle, the so-called Memphis Mafia, was Jewish.
Yes, it’s frivolous, and arguing about subjective taste is a fool’s errand. But here’s my take, anyway:
Elvis usually had songwriters. The only song he ever wrote that most people have heard is “All Shook Up.”
Eddie Cochran wrote nearly all of his own songs. There are also Eddie Cochran records where everything you hear was played and produced by him. Elvis had nowhere near that level of talent.
In my opinion, there isn’t a song Elvis ever sang that comes close to these Eddie Cochran songs:
Summertime Blues
C’mon Everybody
Twenty Flight Rock
Somethin’ Else
Nervous Breakdown
Jeannie, Jeannie, Jeannie
Cut Across Shorty
Little Lou
Teenage Cutie
Jelly Bean
My Way
Boll Weevil
Sittin’ in the Balcony
As far as conveying what it must have felt like to be young and wild in the wide-open, post-WWII 50s when the USA ruled the world, I think the only songwriter who came close to Eddie Cochran was Chuck Berry.
Jim, if Elvis wrote All Shock Up, it’s enough for me to call him a genius on teenage psychology. When I was in high school many moons ago, at a time when young guys have those raging hormones, I met the girl that Elvis describes in the song and he described her devastating effects on me with the utmost precision. lol
It’s true Elvis didn’t write anything, including “All Shook Up.” That was written by Otis Blackwell who wrote “Don’t Be Cruel” and “Paralyzed” and “Return To Sender” as well as Jerry Lee’s “Breathless.”
Elvis spoke admiringly of how “my competition” wrote their own stuff. He admired “Be Bop A Lula” for instance and loved Buddy and there’s no doubt he would have been knocked out by Eddie’s records. What they ALL agreed on was Chuck Berry.
If you’ve ever heard the “Million Dollar” etc. sessions, Elvis and Jerry Lee were getting into Chuck B-sides like “Brown-Eyed Handsome Man” and “Too Much Monkey Business” and raving about him.
It’s all “in the grooves” as they say in the business and a great record is a great record no matter how you get there. What Elvis AND Scotty and Bill and later D.J. Fontana did with “My Baby Left Me” and “Baby Let’s Play House” and especially “Hound Dog” bears almost no resemblance to the originals.
I’ll send you my Elvis CD -some of it live in ’55 and ’56- and put it in your “short” (“short” was slang for “car” for about a week in 1959) and crank it up and go cruisin’ with yer solid sender.
When you grew up Elvis was in jewel-encrusted jumpsuits.
Steve, I’ve heard the “Sun Sessions” and pretty much everything else he’s ever done. And when I was growing up, the only songs they played on the radio were from the Thin Elvis era, anyway. I think his best song was “(Marie’s the Name of) His Latest Flame.” Again, it’s entirely subjective, but I don’t think he can hold a candle to Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent, Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard, Buddy Holly, or Chuck Berry.
I will speculate that he has such an iconic status, people reflexively bark at you if you express the sincere opinion that he’s anything lower than The Undisputed King.
It reminds me of how people react when you say The Beatles sucked, which I say as often as I can.
And regarding “All Shook Up,” someone needs to notify the editors at Wikipedia:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Songs_written_by_Elvis_Presley
What did Elvis, Sun Ra, and Jerry Garcia have in common?
All were devotees of The Urantia Book.
Diving even further into waters I vowed not to swim, here’s Led Zeppelin doing justice to “C’mon Everybody” and “Somethin’ Else”:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDxPNtYWt34
In what category would you put 999?
Mmmm.
I think it’s time to lay Elvis to rest.
Mr Goad — You deduct points from Elvis for not writing his own songs, and yet it was your detested Beatles and Beach Boys who made song-writing chops a criterion for assessing musical acts. Did Sinatra or any top jazz performers write their own songs? I am all for dethroning the King, but it must be done legitimately.
You asked me a question which—at least at first—you admitted was frivolous. I answered, noting that musical tastes are entirely subjective. Then you want to keep arguing, as if there are actually right and wrong answers. Exactly how bad is your palsy?
This is why music geeks and movie geeks are insufferable. It may not have occurred to you that there are much bigger points in this article than whether or not Elvis was the best.
Hey — I was joking in good humor. I’m not an Elvis fanatic by any stretch. And as a NYer there’s not much you can teach me about Jews. Point taken, however. Any future comments on your articles will be in dead earnest.
I have always been amused that Jews, while wailing about WWII, at the same time have a never ending sexual attraction to Germanic looking men and women. It must really put their victim personality into a hyper-drive tizzy of some sort.
Nick Jeelvy’s crash course in obtaining she-Jew bazooms:
Be based.
Look vaguely Germanic (or Russian).
Wear a leather trenchcoat (optional).
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