The singer Édith Piaf famously, and throatily, regretted nothing about anything. But the poet John Betjeman wished that he’d had more sex. And the economist John Maynard Keynes that he’d drunk more champagne. Me? I regret two things much more important than recreational sex or champagne. (more…)
“All the Devils Are Here!” The Great Storm & Shipwreck Story
It was a dark and soon-to-be stormy night on the Gulf Coast some years ago, when my other half and I sat on our porch chairs, gazing toward the sea. He held a cigarette — a bad (thankfully short-lived) habit he’d picked up during his year-long research sabbatical in Valladolid; paired with his fedora, I’m sure he knew that it lent him a (pretentious) air reminiscent of interwar Europe (more…)
The Daemonettes of Slaanesh & Woke Capital’s Very Own Monstrosities
You may be familiar with Warhammer Forty Thousand — 40K for short. It’s a fantasy universe originally created for tabletop wargaming. It has a large fan base, and like most other European-created alternate worlds, the woke mob has begun to howl for its transformation. Of course, management is happy to acquiesce.
The 40K universe is one of futuristic, grim, eternal war. The principal conflict in this dystopian universe is between the forces of Chaos and the Imperium of Man. (more…)
Throughout the United States and Canada, we have an animal called the beaver whose behavior reflects the best of our nature. Like much of our population in recent years, the beaver is stout, and not very photogenic. He has tiny eyes and a huge nose, bright orange teeth, and when on land has a waddling gait like a penguin. (more…)
Among those on the Right who address man’s relationship to the rest of the natural world, one finds a variety of approaches. There are the anthropocentric conservationists, who promote the “wise use” or prudent management of natural resources for future generations. There are the Social Darwinist varieties, (more…)
My ancestors arrived in the Tidewater region of this continent around 400 years ago, and lived and died almost entirely beneath the Mason-Dixon line. As a Catholic, a Southron, and an Anglo-American, I am filled with sorrow and impotent rage at the sight of my forebears being demonized by those who are so manifestly inferior to them. (more…)
The Birds Or: Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Coronavirus (But Were Afraid to Ask Hitchcock & Heidegger), Part Five
In the last installment, I began to explore the possibility that The Birds can be understood as an “existentialist” parable. I argued that the film depicts what Heidegger calls das Ereignis (the event): a sudden and fundamental transformation of the meaning of everything. (more…)
The Birds Or: Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Coronavirus (But Were Afraid to Ask Hitchcock & Heidegger), Part Four
We ended our last installment in the midst of the pivotal scene in the Tides Restaurant. There, we met Mrs. Bundy, a droll parody of modern, Western, pig-headed scientism. With arch condescension, she refuses to believe Melanie’s stories about the bird attacks. “Impossible!” Mrs. Bundy declares. “Their brain pans aren’t large enough. . . Really, let’s be logical about this,” (more…)
Cambridge: MIT Press, 2019
Loraine Daston’s Against Nature has two qualities that make it a good book. First, it is physically a good book: slim but well-bound, it fits comfortably in the hand and slides easily into the pocket. And there is more than tactile pleasure to be had. (more…)
The Birds Or: Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Coronavirus (But Were Afraid to Ask Hitchcock & Heidegger), Part Three
The police are called, and Mitch is asked to meet the sheriff at the Fawcett farm. Some detectives from Santa Rosa are going to join them there. Presumably, Mitch is expected to repeat his mother’s account of finding the corpse of Dan Fawcett, its eyes pecked out by homicidal birds. (more…)
There is something sinister in the springtime this year. Rather than a serving as a yearly reminder of rebirth and natural beauty, the blooming trees and emergent grasses wear the face of some ancient enemy, awoken from its long slumber. The spreading pestilence makes one long for the dormancy and stasis of winter.
This atmosphere of dread has infected every dimension of our lives. (more…)
Ten Questions for Radical Environmentalist Derrick Jensen, Part II
In my essay “What is the Metaphysics of the Left?” I identified the fundamental presuppositions underlying the Leftist worldview. In the present essay, I intend to build on that analysis by showing how it can enable us, with relative ease, to identify our own metaphysics, the metaphysics of the Right. In short, my approach is indirect: I intend to arrive at our own most fundamental presuppositions by, in essence, negating the metaphysics we reject and revile. (more…)
In a previous essay, “Towards a New European Palingenesis,” I argued that the first step towards returning to some semblance of civilizational normality begins with the Dissident Right’s realignment back towards the timeless principles of the natural world, namely hierarchy and order. (more…)
The hallmark of all revolutionary ideologies has been the forlorn attempt to create a “New Man.” Like Pygmalion, this “New Man” takes on the characteristics of whatever political ideology is currently en vogue. For want of a better, meta-historical term, the so-called “Right” has enjoyed marginally more success in this endeavor than other revolutionary movements. (more…)
Μετάφραση Greg Johnson
Μετάφραση στα ελληνικά: Ρωμανός
Δεν ξεχνώ ούτε μια στιγμή τους αγώνες της εποχής μας. Δεν ξεχνώ ούτε μια στιγμή τις μάχες του παρελθόντος που μας έκαναν αυτό που είμασθε. Δεν ξεχνώ ούτε μια στιγμή ότι το να υπάρχεις δεν σημαίνει μόνον να αφιερώνεσαι και να αφοσιώνεσαι , αλλά επίσης, να μάχεσαι. Ούτε ξεχνώ ότι η ζωή έχει έντονες στιγμές και ήρεμες στιγμές, χαρές και στεναχώριες.
Translated by Greg Johnson
Greek translation here
Not for an instant do I forget the struggles of our time. Not for an instant do I forget the struggles of the past that made us who we are. Not for an instant do I forget that to exist is not just to dedicate and devote oneself but also to fight. Nor do I forget that life has intense moments and calm moments, joys and cruelties.