A Lesson in Decline

A stone’s toss away there is a memorial park boasting the “Danish Village Archway.” Now, according to the naming of the town of Denmark the Americans after the Revolutionary War were often very keen to European affairs and named their town in solidarity with the Danes whose city Copenhagen had been bombed. Most assuredly the nomenclature had nothing to do with a rush of immigration from Denmark at around the same time.

As it went, some thousand or so Danes immigrated to the Portland area around this time. They held onto their traditions, established little Danish Lodges to a Danish Brotherhood. Churches were built, in Lutheran style of course. One such Church, as it goes, I’ve driven past on my way to this job or that. The Danes of Maine, Daines if you like, also held whopping cultural events which drew impressive crowds.

The Danes were not alone, of course. There came also Swedes and Norwegians and Finns from the Nordic Bloc countries. Maine specifically sent for more Norwegians on account of their logging prowess, asking for “more of those wood people.” Unsurprisingly this led many of them North, toward the County. I’ll note with a smile that in recent years I’ve seen a bit of a burgeoning Norwegian pride around Portland. I’ve counted a dozen or so Norwegian flags either in number sticker or pole format. This doesn’t include other paraphernalia like “Norwegian pride” stickers or simply “Norge” as bumper plates or stickers. So I’ve seen a rise in Finnish sentiment too.

But nothing Danish. The second European civil war seems to have killed Danish patriotism. As the story goes, following the war, Danish-Americans voluntarily dropped the hyphen. They wanted to be good players. I believe that story. I know a handful of Danish families. Their assimilation into (post) Anglo-Saxon, or WASP culture was so thorough that they often consider themselves as having stopped being Danish. Some identify readily as Anglo-Americans, or whatever term you like. A few in my bubble are actively researching what it could mean to be Danish in this context, but their parents and sometimes even grandparents had done precisely the opposite.

Now all that’s left of their cultural imprint that I can see is an archway leftover from a motel struck up in the style of Ribe, a village where the architect came from. So for number of reasons my trip to the Dane Gate was sobering. First is, as it goes, I’ve been there before. It’s not that I’d have none because the Dane Gate was moved to the Memorial Park later. The park was the last place I saw my grandfather alive before the disease that took him did its work. My grandfather, coincidentally, had employed a number of Danes when he owned and ran a local mill.

I find it sobering because it seems to me to be a clear lesson in what happens when your roots are, not only ripped up, but then neglected after transplant. There among the commemorative cherry trees stands the Dane Gate bearing very strange fruit indeed. One should make sure to water their roots, how else does one tend the tree of life?

Of course the Danes are not alone. In New England the founding stock of this country is estimated to account for less than a quarter of the population. I’ll wager the gross estimate is similar elsewhere, on average. Like with the Danes, true Yankees (English stock tracing back to Old England) think of themselves first as Americans and maybe later as hyphens. It’s not hard to see what follows. Your average Yankee claims that the Founding Holidays are for everybody – and they can be, but it should be remembered that everybody else was not there when we came. The average Yankee builds his home according to the fashion of the day, which is determined by magazines printed Away.

The essential culture of New England has every potential to be swallowed up in the sea of “progress” and kept “alive” as a poorly resuscitated thing for gawkers to do their best at. And then those few Yankees left can go be tourists in the land their ancestors made and think, ‘huh, this all seems familiar.’

A solution is to raise your children accordingly. There was a time where parents could count on the culture surrounding them to imprint itself on their children. This time is gone. There is no “culture” in the System (schools, TV, etc) which is not hostile to your ancestors’ culture. 100 years ago, history was a collective enterprise of the deeds of your father’s or the host nation which hosts you. Now? It is a free-for-all concerned with studying foreigners to spare their petris dish feelings. The argument is made that history had been exclusive, but it still is.

Culture has been thoroughly revealed as existing only where the people are. Reliance on The System ensures that your progeny resemble what “they” want and not necessarily what you want. It is not hard to pass culture onto children. It’s much easier than arguing with a woman. Children are sponges. They’re made to learn. Their brains don’t have as many closed circuits as we do. They will grow, neural pathways develop. Future culture will be in those closing circuits, whether you like it or not. And since the federal government has long determined it wants the prevailing culture to be sludge, we see failure among the citizenry to tend to itself reflect in a monstrous descent into highly public degeneracy, and monstrosity.

If having children meant your genes were good enough to pass on, than why wouldn’t the culture that’s in your blood be? Why do we need to pretend to teach our kids that being a disassociated drone is some civic virtue when civilisation as a whole makes nobody happy?

25 thoughts on “A Lesson in Decline

  1. I recently had my DNA done and I have a 33.% was Scandinavian heritage. My fathers family MacKay- came over in the first wave of immigrants to Nova Scotia on the Hector in 1773. His lineage was pure Scottish blood both sides. He married my mom, whos linage was quite a mix on both side. I am was raised with my fathers strong Scottish culture in nonother than New Scotland ( Nova Scotia) Cape Breton to me exact.so no Scandinavian culture was ever apart of my life, This is how culture is lost.

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    1. That makes sense. Given what little I know of Nova Scotia. I would expect nothing less than a good Scotsman to want to preserve his culture. As I understand (as an outsider of course) The Cape has quite the traditional culture left, but I only really know about the music. I’ve even heard some folk still speak the Gaelic. Which must be quite the trip to hear.

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      1. Yes Gaelic is on the town names below the English. I learned Gaelic in school. The culture remains strong there: Bagpipes, Gaelic, kilts, highland dancing, and the highland games.

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      2. In a town called Old Orchard, which you might have heard about if you’ve been to the South of Maine, there’s a lot of Scots. Not with roots as strong as yours, I don’t think. But they have a very nice yearly festival by the beach which has all that then.

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      3. I haven’t been there but Maine is just hr away from where I currently live in NB, so if the border is uncomplicated this summer. I’ll get over for a look around.

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      4. But if you do make it out, might I recommend the town of Brunswick? It’s about twenty-thirty minutes away from Portland which is supposed to be the restaurant capital of America, although I don’t believe it. I think you’re better off in a small town diner where nobody will solicit you for change. Nearabouts Old Orchard is Saco where there’s a restaurant called “The Lucky Logger.”

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  2. We generally need a mechanisms (law, rules, social control, etc.) that prevent us from deviating too much from the right cause. So we can protect our race, culture, societies, countries and continue being the rightful leaders and role models on this planet.

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    1. I tend to agree. You know, I was listening to, I want to say, Patriotic Alternative from Britain over there. There was a lady, ReNouf I believe, giving a speech. In it she detailed something called the “Sax Plan” (good name) which would help reverse immigration related problems by simultaneously sweetening the pot for those leaving and actually working on the places they’re coming from so that they don’t want to flood here.

      I don’t talk about the other side of mass immigration often because I think it makes me look weak, but there are moral points to be made against it. It destroys the culture of those coming in awhile, but it also draws out the most capable specimens by default, which in turn leads to further decline in origin countries. The whole “brain drain.” And when you’re working with places that haven’t got as much brain to drain, well. What are we talking about in the Sub Sahara? A 70-80 gross national IQ?

      I’ll see if I can find a link to that speech if you’re interested. I guess it comes from a conference the British Nationalists had held.

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      1. Yeah, there is a reason to why preferential treatment always goes one way.

        It’s unfair that we always have to create a future for everybody else. If North and West Europeans stood together the rest of the world would be somewhere in pre-industrial age.

        We do help them and we could help them more, but maybe never enough. Until now, helping them have only lead to more of them coming.
        I am afraid most of them are too primitive and corrupt!

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      2. I tend to agree. If the absolutely pitiful decline of the British Empire teaches us nothing, it’s that Kipling’s poems weren’t a challenge, they were a warning.

        Generation after next the same damn thing happens. It’s decided that “we” cab save the world when everyone else failed. In a hundred years maybe, they’ll look back on this humanitarian nonsense and be able to say how badly it hurt literally everyone, and how suicidally stupid the solidarity we’ve extended the third world has been – especially when, most appallingly of all, you have people who feel more kinship with bones-in-noses than your racial neighbours. I’ve known people who were more upset about Canadian Tourism than Third World Immigration. Of course, nobody gets mad if you hate Canadians. It’s all cowardice, past a certain point.

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      3. Wait. Swedes are drunks? The only Swedes I’ve met, they chewed tobacco. Which I think is a little gross maybe. But in the end, not nearly as awful as weed. No, I agree. It backfires when Whites infight. I don’t mind ethnic jokes or anything, like I’ll laugh at the Irish and French and whatever. But I would much rather deal with Seamus O’Hooligan and Jacques DuFrogger than Ooga Booga McLiverstabby.

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      4. Alcohol is cheaper in Denmark, than Sweden and Norway. Danish nightlife is pretty crazy with “better” opening hours than other North-West European countries.

        Alcohol sales are still a lot more restricted in Sweden than Denmark and even more so in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s so Swedes going to Denmark to get drunk is a tradition.

        Plus Denmark/Copenhagen has airport, restaurants, shopping, museums, etc. on a higher level, than the rest of the North.

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      5. I like museums. I never liked bars. That’s a lie. Some bars are lovely. The folks in them often aren’t. I’d heard Denmark has a wild nightlife. Excuse me, I have to put on my Puritan hat now. It’s my genetic inheritance. My Odal, if you will. To be a dourpuss.

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