So I guess we're going to say June 12th now, just like we say October 7th, January 6th or September 11th. Am I doing this right?
Forwarded from National Association for Retarded Children (Quirijn van Winkeelsmid)
Forwarded from Nathan Damigo
Like the US support for White South Africans, the support for Irish against "hate speech" laws is based on Ireland's objections to the Israeli genocide in Gaza. No similar support has been given to Germany, Australia, or any of the other European countries where pro-White dissidents have been imprisoned or fined for opposing their genocide. The moment the Irish government pivots on Israel is the moment the Judeo-Capitalist regime in Washington will drop its support to Irish dissidents.
So no shit there I was, June of 25. Mid-year of mid decade. We were no longer coming down off the 2010s, nor was there any sign of what shape the 30s would take. In a lot of ways, we felt we were living in the midst of the collapse the previous decade predicted, but for the most part, we were too close to it to really see it. Natural disasters, nuclear wasteland, tyrannical ruling class, zombies, whatever, all of it had been a metaphor for the imminent end of the illusion, and now here it was. Not gritty bands of survivors, but an endless grid of isolated individuals, so traumatized by the pandemic that they never left their quarantine cells. The lamest apocalypse possible. We could barely stand to talk to each other anymore, and a lot of the younger ones never even learned how.
For the most part, we were just trying to get by day-to-day. We were still waiting for the era to take on its own distinctive flare just like the '70s, '80s, '90s, but it hadn't happened yet, and there were no signs that it was going to at all. There was nothing new to watch, nothing to listen to, nothing to read, and sometimes nothing to eat. Our $8 value meal now cost $17, and it didn't even taste like it used to. Most of the youth were pretty sure they would never marry, own a house, retire, or even have a job to retire from. Social media had consumed the culture and given nothing back, and now AI was showing up to finish the job and consume the economy as well. In hindsight, it was starting to look like maybe the world really had ended in 2012 after all. And then they started trying to get us into a war...
It was at that moment, right about Midsummer of '25, that I realized what decade I was living in. It was rock bottom. The end of the old order. It wasn't being pushed to the edge. It wasn't at the tipping point. It wasn't even in free fall anymore. It was on the ground, in thousands of pieces. There would be no gluing at all back together, and it would be foolish to try. There would be no more riding the Tiger; it already lay obliterated at our feet. The only thing left for our generation was to sweep it up and toss it out, because something was going to replace it whether we liked it or not, and we had to act fast if we wanted any say at all in what that new thing would be.
New myths were being written at that time, make no mistake. But that's just the thing about myths, nobody sits down and writes them all at once; we were too close to it to see it. When you're a game piece, it's hard to see the board. But what we did have, even though there was no present for future, was a past full of human achievement. We didn't feel it yet, but while we were being surrounded by so much soullessness, we were getting very good at detecting Souls. Maybe more so than any other generation before, we learned to recognize the real, because we had missed it so much. We knew that's what we wanted, and we were starting not to care how good the imitation was. In fact, we were already learning the scent of the imitation, and we were truly beginning to hate it.
Mortality. That was real, and we knew it. Music with mistakes, that was real. People with gaps in their teeth. Art that was reaching for beauty, but not quite breaching the gates of perfection. Wisdom. Love. Fighting. Dreaming. Laughing. Getting old. These things were real, and because they were real, we held fast to them. You only have the rights you're willing to fight for.
That's what the '20s really blessed us with: the bare minimum. It was the end of what we could physically put up with. We finally knew what we were, because anything we could have pretended to be had melted away in front of us. Heroes don't pop up because they heard a fiery speech, or saw an inspiring movie. Most of the time, they don't pop up at all, and are really just people doing what they have to do to survive, because in whatever setting, that point had been reached. We would never again be the stars in our own shows, just people whose instinct compelled them to act. And so, act we did.
It was a hell of a time to be alive.
For the most part, we were just trying to get by day-to-day. We were still waiting for the era to take on its own distinctive flare just like the '70s, '80s, '90s, but it hadn't happened yet, and there were no signs that it was going to at all. There was nothing new to watch, nothing to listen to, nothing to read, and sometimes nothing to eat. Our $8 value meal now cost $17, and it didn't even taste like it used to. Most of the youth were pretty sure they would never marry, own a house, retire, or even have a job to retire from. Social media had consumed the culture and given nothing back, and now AI was showing up to finish the job and consume the economy as well. In hindsight, it was starting to look like maybe the world really had ended in 2012 after all. And then they started trying to get us into a war...
It was at that moment, right about Midsummer of '25, that I realized what decade I was living in. It was rock bottom. The end of the old order. It wasn't being pushed to the edge. It wasn't at the tipping point. It wasn't even in free fall anymore. It was on the ground, in thousands of pieces. There would be no gluing at all back together, and it would be foolish to try. There would be no more riding the Tiger; it already lay obliterated at our feet. The only thing left for our generation was to sweep it up and toss it out, because something was going to replace it whether we liked it or not, and we had to act fast if we wanted any say at all in what that new thing would be.
New myths were being written at that time, make no mistake. But that's just the thing about myths, nobody sits down and writes them all at once; we were too close to it to see it. When you're a game piece, it's hard to see the board. But what we did have, even though there was no present for future, was a past full of human achievement. We didn't feel it yet, but while we were being surrounded by so much soullessness, we were getting very good at detecting Souls. Maybe more so than any other generation before, we learned to recognize the real, because we had missed it so much. We knew that's what we wanted, and we were starting not to care how good the imitation was. In fact, we were already learning the scent of the imitation, and we were truly beginning to hate it.
Mortality. That was real, and we knew it. Music with mistakes, that was real. People with gaps in their teeth. Art that was reaching for beauty, but not quite breaching the gates of perfection. Wisdom. Love. Fighting. Dreaming. Laughing. Getting old. These things were real, and because they were real, we held fast to them. You only have the rights you're willing to fight for.
That's what the '20s really blessed us with: the bare minimum. It was the end of what we could physically put up with. We finally knew what we were, because anything we could have pretended to be had melted away in front of us. Heroes don't pop up because they heard a fiery speech, or saw an inspiring movie. Most of the time, they don't pop up at all, and are really just people doing what they have to do to survive, because in whatever setting, that point had been reached. We would never again be the stars in our own shows, just people whose instinct compelled them to act. And so, act we did.
It was a hell of a time to be alive.
WOTAN - AND WHY HE MATTERS FOR THE 2Ist CENTURY!
Wotan? For us, in the age of space travel and computers?
Absolutely. We are his Folk, his blood, his spiritual children. We don't live in ancient Germania; we live in the present, with our eyes on the future as well as our glorious past. Wotan looks over us as surely as he did our ancestors. Our connection to him transcends space and time. Like any good chieftain, he wants us to be strong, and wise, and to serve our Folk. He whispers to you in your deepest soul, as he did to our heroes and heroines - listen in your heart, in the first babbling of your newborn babes, and in the wind in the night.
Call him Wotan, Odin, Woden, or Wodhanaz - in these times of strife and degeneracy, he calls us to become more than we are. Glory and acclaim waits for those who earn it!
The Spear - essentially, the "field manual" for Wotan Network - can be ordered from Lulu as an actual book or in PDF form, or you can order it directly from me at [email protected]. Signed copies of my earlier book, Asatru: A Native European Spirituality are also available along with other, smaller works; inquiries welcome.
Wotan? For us, in the age of space travel and computers?
Absolutely. We are his Folk, his blood, his spiritual children. We don't live in ancient Germania; we live in the present, with our eyes on the future as well as our glorious past. Wotan looks over us as surely as he did our ancestors. Our connection to him transcends space and time. Like any good chieftain, he wants us to be strong, and wise, and to serve our Folk. He whispers to you in your deepest soul, as he did to our heroes and heroines - listen in your heart, in the first babbling of your newborn babes, and in the wind in the night.
Call him Wotan, Odin, Woden, or Wodhanaz - in these times of strife and degeneracy, he calls us to become more than we are. Glory and acclaim waits for those who earn it!
The Spear - essentially, the "field manual" for Wotan Network - can be ordered from Lulu as an actual book or in PDF form, or you can order it directly from me at [email protected]. Signed copies of my earlier book, Asatru: A Native European Spirituality are also available along with other, smaller works; inquiries welcome.
WOTAN - GOD OF THE GERMANIC PEOPLES!
He has been called Odin, Woden, Wodan, Wodhanaz, and a myriad of nick-names...High One, Father of Victory, Lore-Master, Stirrer of Strife...but always he is the father-God of the peoples we call Nordic or Norse, Germanic, or Teutonic, and we are his kin.
Today, most people associate Wotan with Richard Wagner's "Ring Cycle" operas, written in the late 1800's, featuring Wotan and his valkyries, or "shield maidens." More importantly, in 1936, psychologist Carl Jung wrote a masterpiece titled "Wotan." In this essay, he described Wotan merely as an "archetype in the collective unconscious" of the Germanic Folk. Later in his life, according to Miguel Serrano, Jung admitted that Wotan was indeed a reality, if an inexplicable one. (I can attest that he has pulled me out of life-threatening situations when the odds against my survival were indeed ugly.)
Wotan loves freedom, bravery, great deeds, wisdom - and his human Folk. Wotan stands with us, and I stand with him. Hail, Wotan!
Wotan Network: Carrying the banner forward. Read more in my book, The Spear. THROW THE SPEAR...OF WOTAN'S WISDOM! Pierce minds, not flesh. "The existence of our people is not negotiable."
The Spear can be ordered from Lulu as an actual book or in PDF form, or you can order it directly from me at [email protected]. Signed copies of my earlier book, Asatru: A Native European Spirituality are also available along with other, smaller works; inquiries welcome.
He has been called Odin, Woden, Wodan, Wodhanaz, and a myriad of nick-names...High One, Father of Victory, Lore-Master, Stirrer of Strife...but always he is the father-God of the peoples we call Nordic or Norse, Germanic, or Teutonic, and we are his kin.
Today, most people associate Wotan with Richard Wagner's "Ring Cycle" operas, written in the late 1800's, featuring Wotan and his valkyries, or "shield maidens." More importantly, in 1936, psychologist Carl Jung wrote a masterpiece titled "Wotan." In this essay, he described Wotan merely as an "archetype in the collective unconscious" of the Germanic Folk. Later in his life, according to Miguel Serrano, Jung admitted that Wotan was indeed a reality, if an inexplicable one. (I can attest that he has pulled me out of life-threatening situations when the odds against my survival were indeed ugly.)
Wotan loves freedom, bravery, great deeds, wisdom - and his human Folk. Wotan stands with us, and I stand with him. Hail, Wotan!
Wotan Network: Carrying the banner forward. Read more in my book, The Spear. THROW THE SPEAR...OF WOTAN'S WISDOM! Pierce minds, not flesh. "The existence of our people is not negotiable."
The Spear can be ordered from Lulu as an actual book or in PDF form, or you can order it directly from me at [email protected]. Signed copies of my earlier book, Asatru: A Native European Spirituality are also available along with other, smaller works; inquiries welcome.
Forwarded from Woden's Folk
"Look out at your children
See their faces in Golden Rays
Don’t kid yourself they belong to you
They’re the start of the Coming Race."
David Bowie.
See their faces in Golden Rays
Don’t kid yourself they belong to you
They’re the start of the Coming Race."
David Bowie.
Forwarded from Black Front Press
Available now !!
Wulf Ingessunu's THE HOODED MAN MYSTERIES: A NEW ORDER is now available to order. The book is 150 pages in length and costs just 24 EUROS with free postage to anywhere in the world. Our PayPal address is [email protected] and you can find more details below. Cover: Francisco Albanese Pastene
Wulf Ingessunu's THE HOODED MAN MYSTERIES: A NEW ORDER is now available to order. The book is 150 pages in length and costs just 24 EUROS with free postage to anywhere in the world. Our PayPal address is [email protected] and you can find more details below. Cover: Francisco Albanese Pastene
Forwarded from Black Front Press
HAVING published a large number of the author's works over the years we were naturally very excited to receive this latest title and, once again, Wulf has not disappointed his growing army of readers. Containing material written over the last few months, this volume has not been approached from the viewpoint of a scholar or academic, but from the perspective of a self-described Mystic-Warrior who relies on intuition rather than logic and the rational mind. "To know the Gods," Wulf explains, "we have to feel and experience the Gods." With detailed chapters on Robin Hood, Herne the Hunter, the Lore of the Forest, the Great Wars of the Gods, the Fusion of Opposites, Archetypal Myths, Bældæg Symbolism, the Void of Creation, the Servants of Darkness, the Mystery of the Firestone, the Role of the Arya, the Witchcraft Cult of the Waen, the ‘Krist of Atlantis’ and Aleister Crowley, the book ends with some mind-blowing conclusions that call for a total re-evaluation of Wodenist ideals.