In our Männerbund, if I have a special ministry beyond my appointed duties it is my interest in the spiritual domain. Somebody has to have it. I have become an unofficial guru in this niche. So it goes by circumstance, not necessarily by choice, as I do not particularly crave power, authority or prestige. Nevertheless. Here I find myself, in the last place I would expect – as a cornerstone to a broken and abandoned little temple that is slowly coming back to life.
It is no longer a hypothesis, but a reality. In some few weeks I will be travelling to administer birth rites. Two brothers have children they want baptised into ‘the’ Pagan faith. For one man, Pagan means Asatru, for another it means pre-Christian and European. That is a milestone. I am both honoured and afraid. So. What exactly does that mean? In the context of our Männerbund? The package I am attempting to sell my brothers, what informs my writings and the classes I offer internally, is the intent to reactivate a sense of Syncretic Aryosophy. My path would be easy, were it not for the fact I have others to help along the way now. I would be perfectly happy to say that Pan Germanism is my religion and that this is where I shall stay.
I live in a fallen world. So do my brothers. They don’t have a clear path. So neither can I. That is not what is needed. What is needed is someone who seeks to harmonise the disparate elements that inform the consciences of our brothers. Whether you like it or not is immaterial to my concerns, but what informs the conscience of every brother is a spiritual pulse.
For the sake of convenience I prefer to approach spirituality in the conventional, or, dare I say traditional, sense. That is, metaphysical, metacultural. I prefer the lens which offers transubstantive options. I prefer mystery. I thrill to the riddles, the kennings, the pieces to a haunted puzzle that aeons have failed to solve – and I promise, I will fail to solve it too. I prefer to see us as links in a chain, with destinies, with parts we are offered to play. I believe in this, I believe every man is afforded his lot and has a last, best destiny. He may cooperate with the forces of Fate, be that Wyrd over Nornir, be that Fata over Parcae or whatever the Greeks set over Moirai. Or he may choose to be stalwart in his reticence and succour misery and angst.
But. I also believe destiny is genetic. It is as inborn as my bloodtype. Probably more inborn, because I don’t actually know my blood type. I digress. While I suspend my disbelief and confess I have no framework to judge the metaphysical, I can hold fast to my beliefs without appeals to the afterlife, or even the Gods. I hope for their cooperation, but I am ultimately driven by my conscience. Time will tell if this is wise or foolish, dead men tell no tales, but if my soul lives to tell it, I shall know. Or shall I? I know my conscience. I know my path which I have marked, and the course which I have set. I have my brothers who shall go with me for a way – how long they go, I cannot say. I know how far I shall go with them, and that is to the end. Hopefully, and let us pray, that it is a happy end.
So, here I come to this. There is a false dichotomy between science and religion. Always and everywhere. Liars rule the roost. And you can’t be sure I’m any different, so hit your books, my friend. It is understandable why there is such a divide. A spiritual man is not hard pressed to see how science has been weaponised. He sometimes fails to see that modernist science, especially in the social sectors, is just another religion. Evolution is a gospel which promotes odd ends. Evolution naturally promotes diversity and equality. Why? You know why. We’re past all that then. In many circles evolution is blanketly denied. I see no reason for this to be the case.
In general I think abject denial is poor form. I can’t disprove anything anymore than I can prove it, really. Do I trust evolution is real because some guy in a white coat says so? Nope. Do I trust God is real because some guy in a black robe says so? Nope. Do I believe everything is hopeless because some dope in a fedora says longcoat tribe are liar? Nope, and nope.
Until fairly recently, ideas of evolution were incorporated fairly seamlessly into European spiritualties. You will note my pointed language. Normally I try not too terribly much to offend the Christians and leave them alone, but in this case I speak to natively themed religions existing prior to the syncretisation of Christendom. And when I speak of Evolution I have no interest in monkey bones and dinosaurs. These are ideologically useless in a political system, clearly, as evidenced by the fragmentary weaponisation of Evolution which resembles firing off birdshot in a China Shop to catch the bull. Evolution as far as I care to embrace, is the improvement of a lineage, family, clan, tribe or nation over the concourse of generations. A son should improve from the father, and expect his son will improve from him. A man should seek to elevate his family. A family should benefit and therefore improve a clan. Generational decay should be eliminated. Eugenics, planning for future success in esoteric and exoteric sectors, is Evolution. Fossils need not apply.
First of all. Evolution, loosely defined, can instigate feelings of perfectibility. We want this. We need this. I tend to think that the White Race of today is very obviously not representative of the at this point mythical Aryan of the past, those Sons of Gods who did great deeds. The reason I believe this is that I have studied considerable research and evidence which seems to indicate there were the “Old European” stock already settled by the time of the Aryan invasion from outside Europe. Thereabouts it would seem the “White Race,” is a hybrid of two White Races with varying degrees of admixture. This is, of course, an evolution. Many theories abound. Too many and too tiresome for me to list in full bore.
So. As we are not Aryan, what then? The idea of Evolution allows for us to in time and through concentration develop the secondary characteristics necessary to transcend our current sorry state. No doubt this was the idea behind the glorification of the Aryan in the first place. It need not be a sad and nihilistic statement if we are not where we ought to be, for nothing worth fighting for every begins where it ends, much less end where it begins. The Mythic Aryan was a product of evolution and adaptation.
Does that delineate the reality of a traditionally spiritual intermediary? Of course not. It is that kind of limited and asinine thinking which leads to nihilism, dysgenics and inbred toothless hicks who think meth is a perfectly acceptable answer to the political question. Spirituality is a part of a people, it therefore evolves with them. The stories they told betray a semblance of evolution, anyway. I have discussed this in part in the conclusion to Season 1 of my Lorecast series. I have discussed it through my papers on the Venuses.
It used to be supposed that there were root races. This idea was heavily trafficked by the Theosophists, who seem to have influenced or been influenced by Guido von List who also discussed them in some of his papers. These root races do not necessarily appear to have been created traditionally, but modified. This of course is a sentiment echoed by many spiritual tales. In the Greek stories, man was there, but Prometheus taught him to walk upright, unlike the ape he was. In Norse, man was there, but Odin had to breathe life into him to draw him out from the plants.
In any case, man went from base matter to apotheosis. This was a seminal point of mythology. That while man has a body doomed to dust, he has a soul that can soar with the Gods. This underlying pulse drove him to improve, to evolve. If he had no such impulse, no Will to Power, he would be like every other animal who is content to eat, shit and die. Alas alack, some men are, and these are Untermensch.
Yes. This is Eugenics. But this is no bad thing. Let the dead bury themselves. Who said this? You know who. The dead shall bury themselves. We who seek the cover of life, must cover ourselves in glory. This requires reaching out our arms as wings, and with outstretched fingers pulling in beginning and end. Spirituality is part of this, it informs culture, of course. But so is evolution. Our ancestors improved their lot. They embraced tradition while preparing it for the future. We can succeed an Aryan destiny and control the maniples of destiny, but it requires concentration within our ideological camps.
Two dimensional forms of thought need to be exchanged for depth perception, the willingness to examine layers, to vivisect ideology and perform esoteric surgery. Our legacy is vast, and it is timeless. Our roots have been pulled, but their tendrils course through our veins and terminate in the fingertips and capulets which always reach for home. Robbed, our duty is to build a new home. So it goes.
In a sense I think it is similar to women, since I have mentioned my Pan-Germanic sympathies. Women are another hot button in dissident circles. Sometimes I feel like we have been reduced to the spiritual level of Moslems, a step away from having to dust off Grandma’s winter sheets with the floral pattern and throw them over the heads of all women because men have been turned into simpering imbeciles. There is nothing more aggravating than dealing with a braindead chauvinist. If men aren’t blaming women for their problems, they’re busy being angry that women can’t fulfil their unrealistic expectations. Of course, American boys were never taught how to play with girls, and when those boys never grew up, of course they don’t know how to handle women.
Very simple arithmetic seems impossible. Men expect a man’s logic from woman. He is infinitely disappointed. Is this to say women cannot be logical? No. But the irony stands. Frustrated men go on to join MGTOW and become the pathetic equivalent of cat ladies. An evolutionary perspective fixes this too. Rather than be a spiritual conservative and saying it can never change, look at what was, what is and then what can be. Life and being can and should be seen as an organic continuity. The past does not cease to be, it changes and becomes present, what was always was, but now is a different form of then. That’s all. Evolution. Naturally.
In Germania women had a quality of life hardly fathomable until much later. Roman women enjoyed certain rights in excess of what their Greek cousins claimed. Celtic women had remarkable freedom. However, the Germanic woman, with her natural dignity, and at times haughty pride, paints a pretty picture on some base level modern man knows he wants. He wants that marriage wherein the proud woman counterbalances the brave man. Except, you know… Clown World.
Sadly, the ideal of the Germanic marital world is not universally tenable. We do not live in a Germanic world. If my German friends have been truthful when they tell me, not even the Germans live in a truly Germanic world anymore. I cannot say, I have not been to Germany – or even Germantown. But I have been to New England, why not, I was born here. We have a lot of Irish here, and culturally bastardised Anglos. The idea of the Celtic marital mould has been bastardised and turned into the equal-opposite of what feminists think men do. The popular stereotype of the Irish lass has become an irritating headstrong faux warrior princess, with the reality resembling more of a material girl. She gets to be uppity because she read Angela’s Ashes and realised that the previous incarnation of Irish woman was the suffering saint. So now she exacts her revenge by being annoying and irrational, given all this privilege with no idea of what to do with the responsibility. Emancipation, indeed. Whatever. Point is. Everyone is struggling.
Men dropped the ball by propping women up with false ideas and strange expectations. Now you have Trad Wives trying to return to tradition, except in many cases one is hard pressed to determine what that tradition is. They are still waiting for the kind of men that compel women back to a natural mould. As long as men are uncertain creatures, why should women be different?
This generation is not going to be perfect. Six years into our relationship, Mother and I are still working out the kinks. We have a son now, and communication is more important than ever. But one of the things that my wife gets hung up on is the difference between being a good listener and telling me she’s a good listener, telling me she wants a strong household head, and then letting me do my job. We romanticise the past to the frustration of the present. I suppose I could abuse my role as Paterfamilias and simply tell my wife how it will be, rather than spend the requisite number of years explaining fine points and then waiting for her experiences to confirm what I have said. This kind of patience seems unnatural. But it is better than force, force is resented. This seems difficult to many men, who enjoy employing force because of the temporary illusion of power it gives. Except they frustrate themselves and complain endlessly about women.
Nothing about any of that is organic. But. This generation has to be its own guinea pig so my son’s generation has a better chance. My Gods, two thirds of the men in my chapter of our Männerbund have terrible prospects for the future. In their thirties, no children and still dating. How many years is it going to take to undo the damage of online dating? Most everyone I know says online dating is a sham and a lie, Heavens know when I did it, in 2013, it was a joke. Now everyone is a disgusting supertramp. Or so we think because this is what we see.
Ironically, the ‘theory’ of evolution as modernity has it requires a leap of faith, and so does the evolutionary Aryosophy that has fascinated the various European/White races. Nevertheless, accounts must be taken, and we must plan for the future with actions, beliefs, customs and culture – every one of these leaves a ripple in the genepool.
Anyway. No vast right wing autism here. Just a few thoughts to keep my mind sharp while I research for my Lorecast.
The Serpent's Loft 