A Blind Spot


No doubt my distaste for democracy as a political theory is, like every other human prejudice, due to an inner lack-to a defect that is a good deal less in the theory than in myself.

In this case it is very probably my incapacity for envy.

That emotion, or weakness, or whatever you choose to call it, is quite absent from my make-up; where it ought to be there is a vacuum.

In the face of another man’s good fortune I am as inert as a curb broker before Johann Sebastian Bach. It gives me neither pleasure or distress. The fact, for example, that John D. Rockefeller had more money than I have is as uninteresting to me as the fact that he believed in total immersion and wore detachable cuffs. And the fact that some half-anonymous ass or other has been elected President of the United States, or appointed a professor at Harvard, or married to a rich wife, or even to a beautiful and amiable one: this fact is as meaningless to me as the latest piece of bogus news from eastern Europe.

The reason for this does not lie in any native nobility or acquired virtue. Far from it, indeed. It lies in the accidental circumstance that the business I pursue in the world seldom brings me into very active competition with other men. I have, of course, rivals but they do not rival me directly and exactly, as one delicatessen dealer or or clergyman or lawyer or politician rivals another.

It is only rarely that their success costs me anything, and even then the fact is usually concealed. I have always had enough money to meet my modest needs and have always found it easy to get more than I actually want. A skeptic as to all ideas, including especially my own, I have never suffered a pang when the ideas of some other imbecile prevailed.

Thus I am never envious, and so it is impossible for me to feel any sympathy for men who are. Per corollary, it is impossible for me to get any glow out such hallucinations as democracy or Puritanism, for if you pump envy out of them you empty them of their very lifeblood: they are all immovably grounded upon the inferior man’s hatred of the man who is having a better time.

One often hears them accounted for, of course, in other ways. Puritanism is represented as a lofty sort of obedience to God’s law. Democracy is depicted as brotherhood, even as altruism.

All such notions are in error. There is only one honest impulse at the bottom of Puritanism, and that is the impulse to punish the man with a superior capacity for happiness-to bring him down to the miserable level of “good” men i.e., of stupid, cowardly and chronically unhappy men. And there is only one sound argument for democracy, and that is the argument that it is a crime for any man to hold himself out as better than other men, and, above all, a most heinous offense for him to prove it.

What I admire most in any man is a serene spirit, a steady freedom from moral indignation, an all-embracing tolerance-in short, what is commonly called good sportsmanship. Such a man is not to be mistaken for one who shirks the hard knocks of life. On the contrary, he is frequently an eager gladiator, vastly enjoying opposition. But when he fights, he fights in the manner of a gentleman fighting a duel, not in that of a longshoreman cleaning out a waterfront saloon. That is to say, he carefully guards his amour propre by assuming that his opponent is as decent a man he is, and just as honest-and perhaps, after all, right. Such an attitude is palpably impossible to a democrat. His distinguishing mark is the fact that he always attacks his opponents, not only with all arms, but also with snorts and objurgations-that he is always filled with moral indignation-that he is incapable of imaging honor in an antagonist, and hence incapable of honor himself.

Such fellows I do not like. I do not share their emotion. I cannot understand their indignation, their choler. In particular, I can’t fathom their envy.

And so I am against them.

H.L Mencken

From THE SMART SET, April 1920.

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The Revolutionary Simpleton

NPG x6534,(Percy) Wyndham Lewis,by George Charles Beresford

Wyndham Lewis in Time and Western Man (1927) on a species of leftist creature that still plagues the earth:

Aside from the hack or small professional of revolution, there is (and one of his habitats is the art world) the revolutionary simpleton. He is not the enthusiast of the will-to-change at its source, but only of its surface-effects, on the plane of vulgarization. Almost all Tories are simpletons—the simpletons of what passes with them for ‘tradition,’ we could say (as is proved conclusively by the way in which they have defended themselves—how they hastily close all the stable doors long after the horses have all disappeared; also by their rare instinct for closing all the wrong doors, behind which there were never any horses).
But the revolutionary simpleton, too, is a well-marked figure, found here and there.
His characteristic gesture is the opposite to that of the Tory simpleton.
He opens all doors, as it were—whether there is anything inside or not. He exclaims; he points excitedly to what he believes to be the herds of wild horses that are constantly pouring out of the doors flung dramatically open by him. We look where he points, and occasionally observe a moke or an old hack crawling forth. So he serves at least to advertise our terrestrial emptiness.

Everything which is described as ‘radical’ or ‘rebel,’ or which palpably can receive that label, and reach its destination, excites him, in rather the same way that ‘scarlet sin’ and suggestions of Sodom or Lesbos, or worse, thrill the sex-snob, schoolboy, curate or spinster of stage tradition—the latter the authentic affinity of the revolutionary simpleton.

This personage is, in one word, a romantic—that is the essential diagnostic for his malady. He is sick for things he has never experienced, or which he is incapable of experiencing—as the schoolboy, or the curate or spinster of stage tradition, is sick for highly-flavoured, ‘wicked’ or blood curdling exploits and adventures.

The revolutionary simpleton is a deathsnob; though generally the most inoffensive and often engaging of people himself—the sort of man who would hurt a fly, and say boo! very truculently, to a goose; mammock a butterfly; or, with motor gloves and a fencing casque, swing a small cat by the tail. Nothing but the thought of the great danger that so-called ‘revolutionary’ art runs from this attractive simpleton would persuade me to open my lips about him, he is so nice, so pleasant. I am not able to give you paradigmatically, in the concrete, this theophrastian booby.

Generally he is obscure; he is an Everyman, necessarily an abstraction to some extent. Every one is more Everyman now than in a less populous time, and in everybody now alive a proportion of ‘revolutionary simpleton’ makes them a sort of feeble compass, dragged subtly to one centre. Their souls’ form may be bent towards the West, they are nevertheless ‘carried towards the East’; and, become smooth and spherical to order, the destiny of all spheres overtakes them: they— Subject to foreign motions, lose their own. And being by others hurried every day Scarce in a year their natural form obey.

Some, however, are simpler than others, and at the same time have ‘revolutionary’ written all over them. These are the authentic revolutionary simpletons.

So though no outstanding, easily identified, person is supplied with this treatise by way of illustration, look round you, and Nature will make up for the deficiency; you will not have to look far to see some fool blossoming, in orthodox red. With the revolutionary simpleton, where most people find a difficulty is in believing his simplicity.

But the simpleton does exist. I have known several quite guileless true-believers, often quite gifted people.

But put before the following kind of man, and you will have the pattern of what I am attempting to describe: one who is very much the creature of fashion, reverencing the fashionable fetish of the ‘group’ or of any collectivity, with many excited genuflections and an air of cystic juvenile incontinence; great crowd-snob, the portentous vociferous flunkey of any small crowd whatever, the richer the more afraid he is of them; regarding all creative work in opportunist terms of a conformity to the fashions of this crowd or of that, the nearest to him at the moment—blind to the fact that all fashion is imposed on a crowd from somewhere without itself, in opposition to its habits, and belongs to it about as much as a hired fancy-dress; frightened and scandalized by the apparition of anybody who opposes any group or collectivity whatever; who believes snobbishly in any ‘minority,’ however large and flabby, provided it can satisfy him it is not a ‘majority,’ and who is always with the majority without being aware of it; his poor little easily ‘blowed’ machine panting to be there in time, punctual at all the dates of fashion, remarked in the chattering van at all her functions; flying hatless and crimson when he hears an egg is to be broken, not particular as to whether it be an eagle’s or a tom tit’s; very truculent but very sweet and obedient in fact; advancing any kitchen-maid’s sickly gushed out romance, provided she only calls her baby-boy her ‘bastard,’ and can be patronized (By himself and the reading-crowd he addresses) because she has never learnt how to spell, and so can be discovered, as you discover things in disused lofts or in gutters, or in that case a scullery; advancing the fruit of the dead past as new, and when knowing what in the present is false, fearing to denounce it, because it is momentarily current, and he trembles at the shadow of the law; such a nice, simple, timid ‘revolution’-loving man is what you should have in mind.

But the revolutionary simpleton is everywhere. It is important not to fix the mind on any particular figure. It is the thing, rather, incarnated on all hands, that it is my wish to bring to light.

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Gutters Foaming With Blood – Denial and Inversion


Observers of the news will have, of late, been made aware of several of those delightful little vignettes we are periodically treated to as a result of Western Europe’s policy of colonising their own countries with hostile 3rd world populations.

I refer, of course, primarily to the murder of British Soldier Lee Rigby in Woolwich, South London and the attempts by immigrants in Sweden to beat the world record attempt for ‘most cars set on fire’ currently held by Africans in France.

By now the reaction of the ruling class to these types of events is completely predictable.
David Cameron typified it saying:

“This was not just an attack on Britain and on the British way of life, it was also a betrayal of Islam and of the Muslim communities who give so much to our country. [exactly what they give he didn’t specify – he probably didn’t mean child grooming gangs and 12.5% of the prison population]…this country will be absolutely resolute in its stand against violent extremism and terror. We will never give in to terror or terrorism in any of its forms [yet we have IRA terrorists sitting as members of parliament].
Second, this view is shared by every community in our country

– not every member of every community though, clearly.

The general consensus of the political class was that this attack, just like the 7/7 bombings, had absolutely nothing to do with them whatsoever. Before Rigby’s body was cold, London Mayor Boris Johnson said it was wrong to link the murder of a soldier with British foreign policy and that “The fault lies wholly and exclusively in the warped and deluded mindset of the people who did it” before proceeding to go off grovelling to Muslims.

Foreign Secretary William Hague took the time to express his horror and disgust that fanatics would kill someone in the streets and attempt to mutilate the victim’s corpse just before he headed off to an EU meeting to (successfully) argue for the lifting on an arms embargo on the Syrian rebels in order to supply weapons to fanatics who kill people in their streets and then mutilate their corpses.

Meanwhile in Sweden (and all-but ignored by the likes of the BBC for several days), rioting broke out, perpetrated by ‘Swedish youths’ following the shooting by police of a deranged, machete wielding immigrant, an act of oppression to which obviously the only reasonable response was to set fire to cars and schools.

The powers-that-be were at a loss as to the causes of the conflagration:
“There is no answer” being the considered opinion of one Stockholm police spokesman, the sight of Somalis enriching Stockholm by trying to turn it into Mogadishu seemingly never prompting the questions as to why inviting the people who turned Mogadishu into Mogadishu in the first place into the country was a good idea or why anyone should be surprised when they try to do the same thing in their new land.

The responses to these and other acts of ‘cultural enrichment’ serve to illuminate the nature of the liberal capitalist, ‘multicultural’ state and the mentality of its ruling elites:

Following the Woolwich murder the forces of the state leapt into action to protect the public by arresting English people for making non-PC comments on the internet
and sending counter-terrorist police to raid the homes of nationalists.

Swedish authorities, instead of suppressing the disorder, decided not to use the police to confront rioters. It was seen as much more important for the state to exert its power to enforce order by issuing parking fines to people who had had their cars torched by ‘youths’. In a repeat of what happened in areas like Eltham in London during the riots of 2011, it was only when indigenous, working class men began patrols to prevent the rioters destroying their neighbourhoods that Swedish police were ordered to confront anybody, eager to prevent these Nazis from perpetrating such atrocities as defending their property and preventing crime.

Multiculturalism is striking for the sheer amount of cognitive dissonance and lying its defence demands:

After days of exaggerating a backlash against Muslims, the British media were beside themselves with excitement when a ‘Somali Cultural Centre’ and then an ‘Islamic College’ were set ablaze under suspicious circumstances, news presenters almost soiling themselves with glee when it was reported by police that witnesses had seen the letters ‘EDL’ painted on the side of the ‘cultural centre’ (why anyone would spray graffiti on a building they are about to burn down is anyone’s guess).

In reaction to the apparent arson attack on the ‘cultural centre’, the local MP repeated the standard line that this was an ‘attack on the whole community’, just as we had been told that the Woolwich murder and previous outrages had been an ‘attack on the whole community’.

This is clearly absurd – as is the constant refrain of the clerisy that the ‘far-right’ is a threat to life and liberty of just as serious a nature, or worse, than Islamic terrorism or other immigrant crime.

But life in the post-modern liberal state provides no shortage of absurdities:

Muslim terrorists explicitly cite the West’s aggressive, neo-jacobin foreign policy and wars as the reason for their action – this, we are supposed to believe, is totally untrue and that these people are simply deranged.

British authorities, following the vandalism of war memorials in London, hastily covered over the spray painted word ‘Islam’ presumably so no one would know what the motivation of the vandals was.

7500 people are murdered in Germany by aliens (mainly Muslim or nominally Muslim Turks) but Germans are told that it is they who are the problem since they are yet to rid themselves of Nazism.

When indigenous Britons are attacked by Asians, the media cannot even bring itself to describe the victims as “white girls” without using scare quotes.

When immigrants from the 3rd world, most of them in Sweden as a result of that nation’s asylum policy, go on the rampage it is because the Swedes and their “discrimination and racism“ are at fault, despite providing these ingrates with a standard of living far higher than what they could expect in their motherlands.

When a mentally ill woman shouts abuse directed toward other ethnic groups nothing ever happens…

…so long as the person doing the abusing is black (as any frequent user of London’s public transportation system can attest to). If they are white then they will be remorselessly hounded and bullied by the forces of the state until they admit their guilt and recant their heresy all the while smug middle class leftists and ethnic hypocrites prove their moral righteousness by howling on social media for the witch to be burned because the incident was filmed and put into the public domain.

The reflexive response to any bug in the multicultural program is, first, to deny the reasons for their occurrence and, second, to invert both the causes and the importance of the actors. The primary agents of disorder are demoted to freakish perpetrators of disconnected phenomena while the group who must bear the brunt and pay the largest part of the (butcher’s) bill of the socialisation of the costs of diversity become the actual problem in the eyes of ruling elites and their media and far-left collaborators.

Favoured minority groups must always be portrayed as victims. The ideological underpinning of political policy is never at fault. Policies that, by any logic-based evaluation, cause the conditions for social strife are never to blame.

Inter-ethnic tensions and concomitant disorder are used by the ruling class to crack down on native dissent.

Whatever problems are caused by extreme social heterogeneity the only option offered is more of it, creating a state of affairs akin to deliberately turning up the heat on a pressure cooker and then blaming it on a victim of the resulting explosion.

Anyone who has paying attention to recent history will have noticed that our humanitarian interventions/wars of aggression in the more benighted parts of the planet always result in large numbers of immigrants (presumably seeking refuge from our humanitarianism) entering the West to become permanent residents. That they often bring with them the kind of violence and barbarism they are ostensibly escaping is apparently not a problem anyone should be exercised about – even if their lives are negatively impacted by such things.

The more we interfere in foreign concerns and with the historic configuration of our own societies the worse the impact is on our nations, an impact which is easily measurable though routinely denied. Anyone protesting about their ethno-cultural dispossession will be ostracised, financially ruined, prosecuted, imprisoned or physically attacked by state supported ‘anti-fascists’. The architects of this dystopian world order are protected under the aegis of the state security apparatus; typical of how these people insulate themselves from the consequences of their actions, as their media cheerleaders and other bien pensant left-liberals do when they typically choose to live far away from the ‘enriching’ ‘diversity’ they have helped inflict on others.

We are told that what we see happening is, in fact not what is happening and that it is more than likely that the opposite is happening. Causes are denied and /or inverted.

Every incident, every problem caused by ruling class policy justifies increasing the power of that class and its state. Power which it then uses against its own people. In this and a myriad of other ways, the consequences of present liberal policy present opportunities for various sectional interests at the expense of the majority.

It may be worth noting that, according to every single one of the major philosophies of government, including those which underpin the liberal democratic state, we have reached the stage where the destruction of the political system and the class it sustains is completely legitimate – due to the undermining of the well-being of the demos from whom it supposedly derives legitimacy.

Whether that has any bearing on anything or not, this is imperative if the West is to survive:

The liberal order must be destroyed.

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To Pyrrhus In Heaven – Remembering Major John Pitcairn At The Battle of Bunker Hill

English: A photomechanical, halftone color pri...

English: A photomechanical, halftone color print depicting the Battle of Bunker Hill. Source image has been cropped to remove borders. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Break and let the Marines through!”  Cried a gruff Scotsman’s voice through the smoke and fog at the foot of the crimson-stained hill.

“If they won’t get out of the way we’ll bayonet the buggers!”

Pressing forward, a Major, bound for glory led his three hundred Royal Marines and advanced towards the rebel redoubt atop Breed’s Hill.  Stepping over their comrades, some writhing and clawing at their scarlet coats, searching frantically to gauge the severity of their wounds while many others lay dead already, they pushed onward.  Before them, another line of infantry was slowly pushed back and, upon waving his sword he ordered his brave boys to press on.  And then, suddenly, without warning, he gasped and found himself stumbling back into the arms of a Lieutenant.  His eyes, in horror darted around in his head, swift flashes of mud-encrusted leather shoes, bloodstained grass and a billowing surge of smoke that hovered o’er the scene played before his vision.  His mouth became instantly dry, but in his confusion, he could not bring himself to ask for water.  He knew he had been hit.  The Lieutenant, distraught, let out a thundering moan.

“Dear God!  He howled.  I have lost my father!”

John Trumbull's painting depicting The Death o...

John Trumbull’s painting depicting The Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker Hill, 1775. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As he was carried back behind the lines, he could hear Colonel Nesbitt’s gallant men of the 47th forming up, their bayonets poised as they, with extreme haste, made their way headlong to the rebel position.  The ferocity of their cheer as their voices boomed in unison was almost deafening over the ever louder crack of the fusillade that poured from the rebel lines, but it filled his veins with a joy that overcame his senses, fading as they were.  He died but hours later, the .48 caliber ball still lodged in his breast.  He was Major John Pitcairn of the First Royal Marine Battalion.

Hailing from the town of Dysart, in Fife, Scotland, Major John Pitcairn served with distinction in Canada during the Seven Years War and in the American Revolution.  He was loved and deeply admired by both loyalists and rebels, and was known for his charm and profound sense of honour.  Through the volatile atmosphere which cursed the American colonies, particularly in Boston, the hornet’s nest of rebel activities and sentiments, he remained ever devoted to King and Country and aspired to be instrumental in preventing an all-out rebellion.

Perhaps one of the best examples of his noted charisma were the frequent social gatherings he would host at the home of local tailor and Sons of Liberty sympathizer, Francis Shaw, with whom he was quartered with, which he held mainly for purposes of exchanging differences in opinion on the situation in Boston in a civilised manner.  He quickly became known as a sort of mediator, a peacemaker between rival locals who were at each other’s throats.  Whereas some within the army remained bitter and resentful of having been sent to the colonies to deal with the rebel upstarts, Pitcairn tried desperately to maintain close friendships with even the staunchest of rebel sympathizers, seeing it as mere differences of viewpoints between peoples of kindred blood and a shared, common history.  He is even remembered as having prevented a grave duel between Shaw’s own son and a young Lieutenant.

English: Major John Pitcairn

English: Major John Pitcairn (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Despite his efforts at keeping the peace, Pitcairn, with a heavy heart soon found himself landing his Marines at Charlestown that bleak afternoon on June 17th.  He’d already witnessed the Battles of Lexington and Concord just two months before when his horse had been shot from under him on Lexington Common.

Much to the shock of General Thomas Gage’s forces, the rebels had constructed a redoubt in the middle of the night on the crest of Breed’s Hill.  And it was there, on that hill where he caught the ball of a long rifle and tumbled back into the embrace of his son, William, joining the ranks of the other 225 red-coated souls who lost their lives on that summer day.

At the cost of 1,054 casualties, the British had taken the ground.  General Sir William Howe would replace Gage, taking command of all British forces and capturing New York City, successfully driving General George Washington out.

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On The Happenings In Paris


NI OUBLI! NI PARDON! (Photo credit: strassenstriche.net)

France is once again the scene of impassioned protests as French antifa and members of the far Left cluster up at Saint Michel fountain and the city’s Latin Quarter to condemn the recent killing of antifa skinhead (thus far, no MSM source out there, that I have come across has revealed the fact that Meric, himself was a skinhead, whilst they are quick to point out that his killers were) and to call for a nationwide ban on “far-right groups and organizations”.  And of course, as expected, socialist president Francois Hollande couldn’t agree more on those demands.

But I’ve noticed something.  Something that, naturally was to be expected from the MSM.

No more are we hearing much news on the killers of Drummer Lee Rigby, are we?  In fact, we’re hearing plenty of clamorous moanings and public sobbing from the same leftist ilk that made excuses for Muslims all across Britain and the continent for celebrating his death and hailing his murderers as heroes.  It comes of no surprise that it’s a river of tears and eardrum-rattling wails from the same breed of upstarts who unabashedly praised the monthly bombings of Golden Dawn’s headquarters over the last few years.

For let us not forget, Meric is being labeled by every source out there as simply, a “leftist”.  Well, that could denote quite a colourful array of things, couldn’t it?  They deliberately paint him with an innocuous brush to divert attention from the fact that he was, more specifically, antifa.  He was a member of Action Antifasciste, known to us in the Anglosphere as Antifascist Action, a loose organization of aggressive, hostile, deeply and emotionally disturbed leftist thugs who have, from their inception been notorious for initiating and taking part in physical violence and brutish, cowardly acts against those they deem as “neo-nazis”, which would basically include anyone who doesn’t tow the multicultural line and embrace diversity on every degenerate level.  I mean, after all, this is the same clownish crowd that deems neocons like Sean Hannity and Anne Coulter as “neo-nazis”.


ANTIFA STENCIL (Photo credit: seven_resist)

No, Meric wasn’t just your run-of-the-mill left-wing, unkempt, oily-haired peacenik calling for an end to MSG-based food products and bullying in the public schools.  They can spin it however they like to suit their agenda, but the reality is that Meric was part of an organization that has never and will never have qualms about utilizing the apish tactics of brute-force violence to get their message across.  It should be once again noted that Meric and his crew of friends were in a Fred Perry store in Rue de Caumartin.  But again, no mention that he was a red, “anti-racist” skinhead, which anyone even remotely familiar with that scene would know full well that he, based on that flashing red clue was.  Antifa are rooted in violence.  There are hundreds of them locked up behind bars (where they belong) in Germany alone.  They are still carrying out acts of violence in Greece nearly every week.  And in France, Meric’s home country, they have an extensive history of violence and many, unsurprisingly have criminal records.

As far as the young Meric’s humanity is concerned, I truly feel for his family and find it sad that the life of someone so young ended in such a violent way, sentiments that, doubtless few on his side of the fence would feel for any one of us had we been on the receiving end of such brutality.  But as far as France is concerned, and the rest of the Western world, none of these atrocious acts should come as a surprise, and none of the acts of violence and murder carried out by the Left against nationalists should be swept under the rug and forgotten.

It has been said before by many in nationalist circles, but allow me to once more state what should be overwhelmingly obvious to everyone of every political persuasion:  none of these tragedies would be happening if whites, who comprise only around eight percent of the world population, had their own nations free of the destructiveness of multiculturalism and rot of a never-ending and deliberately designed influx of Third World immigration.

Market, Paris 18e

Market, Paris 18e (Photo credit: Tom Spender)

It has to be said that while we do not condone acts of violence, we are certainly not surprised by any of it, and the key to ending it is giving us back our countries.

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On The Multiculti Payroll

I first saw this on AmRen the other day and it honestly didn’t surprise me, a blue flyer that reads in black print, “SUMMER JOBS:  Teach Tolerance, Fight Hate Groups, Seek Justice!  Pays $1,420 to $2,260/mo FULL TIME/CAREER  Call Sam: 215-564-0361

‘Hmmm, I thought.  That slogan sure sounds familiar!’

I’d heard from several friends that a few campuses in the Mid-Atlantic and probably other parts of the country have had “community organizers” affiliated with the SPLC handing out flyers to locals and students alike.  So…tell me again how the radical Left isn’t the status quo, as they are trying so desperately to convince all of us that they are on the defense and under the boot of some imaginary white oppressor Archie Bunker boogeyman?  I’m having a devil of a time trying to figure that one out.  At any rate, I urge anyone made aware of this to call the number and engage in honest, civil debate with Monsieur Sam about what he thinks constitutes a “hate” group.  Surely, if, by the very definition he would include La Raza, Code Pink (openly admits it does not allow men to take leading roles in its group) and, the obvious, itself, because as far as any advocate of freedom of speech and the freedom of association is concerned, no finer, more shining example of a hate group could exist under the sun than the Southern Poverty Law Center, then he would remain consistent with the ideals he’s upholding and summarily resign his position.  But somehow, I don’t expect that to happen.

Doubtless, any answer you get upon calling this bleedingly anti-white fellow will involve dancing around the question and from him prompt a series of laughable mental gymnastics that attempt to justify and rationalize efforts to vilify and silence white traditionalist-minded people and particularly white, straight males, but the answer should be entertaining nonetheless.

It has to be said that I do not condone nor encourage harassment of any type, as that is the dishonourable and cowardly behavior they more often than not employ with pride upon us.  What this organization needs is to be questioned and shown their blatant hypocrisy which, again, they will likely justify, but the issues must be addressed.

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Birthday Anniversary of King George III

On this day, June 4th, 1738 George III was born at Norfolk House, St. James’ Square in London.  George was perhaps what we would refer to today as an extremely gifted child.  History, agriculture and constitutional law were among his favorite subjects as a student.  Unlike his two Hanoverian predecessors, whom many people actually resented for their German extraction, he spoke English as his first language and was proficient in his ancestral German as well.   He was twenty-two years old when he was crowned on September 22, 1761, and it is said that the people were so enthralled on the day of coronation that many carriages had collided into one another on their way to Westminster Abbey.

King George III (in coronation robes)

King George III (in coronation robes) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

George III is perhaps best known for losing the American colonies, the kingdom’s most successful and treasured, but he was not at direct fault.  Though the fact is largely ignored, especially in contemporary American historical texts, history has absolved him of all responsibility in the development of the much despised Stamp Act and other parliamentary acts that followed, all of which he, contrary to popular belief, did not create.  He staunchly defended the war in the colonies and was determined to prevent full independence, but he was met with brutal criticism by his Whig adversaries, most notably Charles Fox M.P. and even his own son, the Prince of Wales, who was known to mingle and consort with Fox and his friends.  The fact remains that the animosity felt by American rebels during the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783) had much deeper roots that stretched back at least two decades prior to the advent of revolutionary and republican sentiments that swept the colonies.  He was a favorite target of Whig criticism, and was perpetually blamed for advocating unconstitutional measures.  On the contrary, George was perhaps the first king in Britain’s history to support the primacy of parliament.  He had a reputation for the meticulous and careful manner in which he read all government papers, which irritated the Whigs to no end, and always maintained a keen interest in parliamentary affairs.  He founded the Royal Academy of Arts and was the first monarch to directly contribute to scientific endeavors, as science was one of his strongest passions.  But perhaps the greatest attribute for which he should be known was his modesty and genuine nature.  He truly loved his people, and was often referred to as “Farmer George” for his love of agriculture and by the fact that he traveled little, perhaps less frequent than any before him, spending most of his life in southern England.

King George III lived and reigned during a heavy and perhaps one of the most turbulent times in the history of the British Isles.  His was the era of the peak of the Enlightenment, the alarming rise of republicanism, the brutality and terror of the French Revolution, and the uncertainty and uneasiness of the Napoleonic Wars.  In addition to this turmoil, perhaps one of the greatest known stresses on the king was the question of Catholic emancipation, which he and prime minister William Pitt The Younger disagreed on bitterly.  Prime Minister Pitt wanted to extend certain rights and eventually bring full emancipation to Catholics, while George III maintained his stance that to do so would violate his coronation oath.  It was during this time that, sadly, he suffered a harrowing bout of illness that historians today strongly believe to have been porphyria.  He would recover, only to suffer a relapse during the Regency Era, and again after the Napoleonic Wars.  The disease, aside from the terrible muscle and abdominal pain it caused, also brought on spells of delusional behavior, and some of the claims that have been recorded include fits of hallucination, excitable outbursts and severe delirium.  At one point, his behavior became so bizarre and erratic that he was put into a strait jacket and locked up behind bars in several apartments in Windsor Castle.

After a small period of recovery, in 1802, at which time he saw to the singing of the Treaty of Amiens that made peace with the French, George III suffered another relapse of illness.  He became so delirious that he would talk nonsense for hours, sometimes two or three days straight and, at one point, was unable to hold normal conversations or even go for walks.  After his wife, Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz died in 1818, he seemed unable to comprehend this or, at times even remember who she was.  In 1820, his mental illness progressed and he became severely blind.  He died on January 29th, 1820.

We honour and remember his life on this day, the 275th year anniversary of his birth, June 4th, 2013.

God Save The King!

English: George III of the United Kingdom whil...

English: George III of the United Kingdom while Prince of Wales (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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