Whenever I have a lot on my mind, I go out on the front porch, light up my pipe, and watch the sunset. It’s my favorite spot in the world. I’ve many good memories there. It’s a place of comfort and safety. I’m able to think about my darkest problems surrounded by hope (and a beautiful dogwood that’s in full bloom).
I’ve been smoking a lot lately, especially since that American Renaissance conference.
I’m concerned with the bickering and pettiness in our movement.
I beg the pardon of my irregular readers who may not know who “our” refers to in the above sentence or what “movement” I’m talking about. I’m not sure myself, really. There are so many factions, divisions and organization, it’s hard to keep up with them all.
If there’s anything tying them together, I’d say it’s a general idea that “race” (whatever that ends up meaning) is an important element in life, so much so that it plays a part in our interpretation of history, ourselves presently, and our future. But that’s not really a defining characteristic either, especially for us Christians who do not read all of history or life in terms of race, but rather, if you’ll allow me to speak ambiguously, we see in terms of Christ.
Since we have a “Christocentric” view of history, we realize the importance of family and nation and we especially realize the importance of our own European nationality and the part we’ve played in history. We’re proud of it and love our ancestors and love our (hypothetical in my case) children enough to see that they have a thriving future.
Call us what you will, it’s an unfortunate fact that for now, we’re on the outside of society, looking in. We are unwelcome observers and if we dare interact with Liberaldom (aka Satania, aka contemporary Western society), we must do so in disguise. Our opinions are not tolerated; our contributions, unwanted. Our job is to wither away and die. Either that, or get baptized into the new world order in one of various ways, including either marrying a negro or giving our children away to negros.
This, we will not do, so we become underground men, launching our criticisms against Satania’s outer walls, looking for occasional cracks in the mortar. We’ve become dissidents.
Now, this isn’t news for the Dissident. We’ve long ago accepted our place in society. We’re doing the best we can with what we have. But, there is a problem with being outside and it’s affecting us as a movement. When society is in the cross-hairs, every bit of it is dissected and examined critically. We become self-conscious of everything we do.
For example, I was speaking with a group of very fine dissidents that included a few ladies. I used the vernacular “you guys” during the conversation, and was reproved. “We’re not guys!” I agreed, of course, and immediately knew my fault. I had never considered that Satania had influenced my speaking habits.
Another example. I was having a few drinks with some dissident pals, when I ordered a Budweiser. “You can’t drink that!” I was told, “…they contribute to the negro college fund!” Ok, I thought, so I ordered a Corona instead. “But that’s a Mexican drink!” my friend objected.
Now, I can deal with culling pop-rhetoric out of my speech, but you don’t come between a man and his beer. That was a little too much.
I don’t want to argue about what etiquette to follow and what not. I’m more concerned with the fact that, since we’re dissidents, we have no overarching social-order from which to derive our sense of social norms and self-confidence. We’re despised at the outset, so we’re always in a position of weakness when we approach society or each other. At least, that’s our default position.
It takes a brave person to live outside the boundaries society has placed him in. That’s why dissident movements are so awkward. We refuse to play the role Satania has written for us. But if we’re not scoundrels, then who are we?
Each dissident defines himself differently and they’re running all over the place. There’s no “society” to hold us together and teach us norms. It’s hard to know how to act because we learn “how to act” from society — and in this case, society is Satania, so we cannot learn from it.
When lots of people are running all over the place, there’s bound to be collisions. The two collisions of etiquette I mentioned above are mild examples. Sometimes, fights break out and feuds are started. I have a friend who is a leader in a white-nationalist organization. He’s always organizing events and rallies. He tells me about how hard it is to get all the various groups in his area working together. None of them can get along. There is a lot of friction, infighting and dramatic conflicts of personality. One Klan group wants to fight another and they both hate the skinheads and they’re all mad at the Christian Identity folk, and on and on it goes.
This phenomenon is multiplied a hundred fold in blogs, web forums, and chatrooms across the internet, where the mitigating influence of face-to-face meetings is absent and keyboard warriors attack with fervor.
There’s no social-fabric holding them all together.
What can be done?
I’ll tell you what I do although I wont claim it’s a solution for everyone.
I look to old-Europe and its social order. That’s the society that I want to learn from. I’ll play the roles Walter Scott makes for me. I’ll be the men Jane Austen writes about. I’ve found that when someone has a strong sense of social-duty and etiquette, it’s contagious. Other dissidents are desperately seeking help in defining themselves and they’ll latch onto any safe port in the storm.
Old Europe is the world I’m trying to keep alive, so the least I can do is live in it.