There are many things hidden and magnified within the pages of this energetic and swift manifesto, & it builds again and again to crescendo. I will give away only a little — it really MUST be read.
A clear, blue sky, spangled with stars, will prove a homely and insipid object to eyes accustomed to the glare of torches, tapers, gilding, and glitter.
Savagery must rise. Individuality and diffuse cultural heroes warp modern attempts at the revival of true virile experience.
Understanding this timely and instructional work only as an action story, only a true description of a group of passionate men, and ignoring its context, which is described politically, socially and historically, leaves it still greatly edifying. Read this book.
Perhaps from amongst a healthy people uplifting stories will naturally occur, but we are no longer a healthy people. Therefore our Art — our Myth — must be salubrious, it must be moralising to us, and this must be consciously done.
Whilst riding the tiger, we must employ extreme engagement with modernity. Whether this means unfettered and insulting critique of anything unworthy of us, or an exaltation and uplifting of anything that is good, or more profoundly a seeking of exhilarating and meaningful experiences, it means we cannot sit back and await what comes next.
In the mind of the European, Religion must now be metaphorical in order to be entertained. This must be overcome. And it will suffice to say that if one is to philosophise with a hammer, one must ere know where to best strike the first blow.
We are told excruciatingly that our identity is inferior, or ridiculously that it does not exist; we are undergoing an erasure the likes of which only occurs during the ultimate downfall of an empire. And so our identity must be set out every chance we get.
Despite what you have been told by self-improvement blogs, it is not enough to only build your body amongst the machines and dead steel of the gym, for you are surrounded by the limping embodiment of multicultural decadence.
It is in no small terms a tragedy that the architecture of the European peoples has been reduced so far as to be a laughing stock of the world. Anything we create must be so void of beauty that one may suspect that is its only goal. It must be so plain and vacuous in terms of tradition, spirit, love and warmth, that one would think the architects of today intentionally wish to inflict pain upon the public.