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. . . I can hardly wish any man better than he would seriously consider what he does with his time; how and to what ends he employs it; and what returns he makes to God, his neighbor, and himself for it. Will he never have a ledger for this? This is the greatest wisdom and work of life. — William Penn (more…)
You can pre-order Greg Johnson’s The Trial of Socrates here.
You can pre-order Greg Johnson’s The Trial of Socrates here.
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Part 2 of 2 (Part 1 here)
The following is an excerpt from Greg Johnson’s forthcoming book, The Trial of Socrates, which is available for pre-order at a $5 discount from now until its release on June 30. See here for details.
Socrates’s Flight to the Logoi
Socrates literally calls his second-best method his “second sailing,” which is an allusion to a comment made earlier by Simmias: (more…)
Edvard Munch, Melancholy (1894)
Edvard Munch, Melancholy (1894)
1,151 words
During a livestream on July 2, 2022, I was asked what advice I would give to people who are contemplating suicide. Hyacinth Bouquet transcribed my answer, which I have edited. I want to thank her and the original questioner. (more…)
544 words / 2:07:29
The one and only Rich Houck was host Nick Jeelvy‘s guest on the latest broadcast of The Writers’ Bloc, where they discussed Yukio Mishima’s My Friend Hitler — a play about politics, friendship, and doing what is necessary — and answered listener questions, and it is now available for download and online listening.
Topics discussed include:
00:04:00 Yukio Mishima’s play My Friend Hitler
00:09:00 Who is Richard Houck?
00:12:00 Nick and Rich reflect on what it means to be a lawyer (more…)
Salvador Dalí, Perpignan Train Station
Salvador Dalí, Perpignan Train Station
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Part 3 of 3 (Part 1 here, Part 2 here)
With Young Virgin Auto-Sodomized by Her Own Chastity, Dalí returned to his paranoiac-critical concerns (i.e., autoeroticism), but now transformed. The paranoiac origin is Dalí’s obsession with Vermeer’s The Lacemaker, which in turn he believed to “consist” in rhinoceroses’ horns. (more…)
Grand Duchess’ last Twitter profile pic.
Grand Duchess’ last Twitter profile pic.
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Earlier this week, I woke to devastating news: A longtime friend of mine, Robin, whom I had met while I was an undergrad — at the same time that I first began writing things that would eventually find their way to Counter-Currents — had passed away. My old friend’s son contacted me by phone and informed me that she had left us a few days before, and that he had wanted to let me know since she’d mentioned our friendship to him previously. (more…)
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Author’s Note: In a recent livestream, Mary Ann asked, “Did you have a midlife crisis? What did you learn?” Hyacinth Bouquet transcribed my answer, and I cleaned it up a bit. I want to thank Mary Ann for her question and Hyacinth for her help.
Seven Spotted Lady Bird Beetle by Robert N. Taylor
Seven Spotted Lady Bird Beetle by Robert N. Taylor
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The following is an excerpt from Robert N. Taylor’s upcoming book Psychonautica, as mentioned in the interview with him published at Counter-Currents last week.
“DOM appeared on the streets in the 1960s under the name of STP and it proved to be for quite a while my hair shirt or, as Albert Hofmann would say later about his discovery, LSD, my problem child.” — Alexander Shulgin, Pihkal, a Chemical Love Story (more…)
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Part I here, Part II here, Part III here, Part IV here, Part V here, Part VI here, Part VII.1 here, Part VII.2 here, Part VIII here
A successful nationalist movement cannot be guided by free-market orthodoxy. For over two centuries the principles of free market economics played a crucial role in Western countries. (more…)
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Do not believe the poster of this 1952 film. Do not. Wait ‘Till the Sun Shines, Nellie, isn’t the pleasant, bubbly, Technicolor singfest that is promised, although the song with all its nostalgic sentiment is there. Its appearances, however, evoke sadness and regret, much like old family photos tend to.
The action begins in the 1890s aboard a train chugging to Chicago, carrying Ben Harper (David Wayne) and Nellie (Jean Peters). (more…)
Like most illustrations of this kind, Death seems to be having a grand ol’ time.
Like most illustrations of this kind, Death seems to be having a grand ol’ time.
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The half-light of an autumn evening reflected off the Old River and into the face of the boatman. Over and under each subtle ripple and eddy, his eyes darted here to there so quickly that his gaze seemed fixed. As if he took in the whole broad sweep of the Thames with a hungry look-out. Next to him, and charged with steering the dinghy, stooped a young girl, his daughter. She “watched his face as earnestly as he watched the river. But in the intensity of her look, there was a touch of . . . horror.” (more…)
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I took a rare day off on Memorial Day, but it had nothing to do with mourning dead American soldiers. Naturally, this didn’t stop me from being bombarded by the endlessly treacly and corny “conservative” online finger-wagging about how I need to honor all the dead soldiers who ostensibly shed their blood to protect my freedoms. (more…)
“Death found an author writing his life. . .” from Edward Hull’s Danse Macabre, 1827.
“Death found an author writing his life. . .” from Edward Hull’s Danse Macabre, 1827.
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It always sounds silly to me when people tell the dead to “rest in peace.”
Practically speaking, don’t you have to disturb their rest to tell them that? It makes about as much sense as nudging someone who’s snoring to say, “Hey — HEY! Wake up and go to sleep.” (more…)