Cocaine Pedos Bluster on

Simplicius does a perfect job of describing the absolute farcical puppet clowns that no one ever elected, in any country in Europe.

There really isn’t anything to add.

Except that these “people” (Parasitic, Evil, Obscurantist, Pedophiles, Losers, and Embezzlers) really should be used for terminal tests of machinery, medical experiments, and other such things that would in fact make them at least marginally useful.

Hell, use them instead of crash test dummies. At least they would provide some useful data then.

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As I do my work it’s inevitable the sounds of my children drifts up to me… like the little cherubs they are…

INT: Kitchen, Child n.2 (Monkey-10) is busy doing her online lesson of Italian with our friend Tony.

Child n.5 (Aryan Girl-2) definitely thinks SHE will discuss life, and the Universe and Everything with Tony.

Wife: Grabs Aryan Girl to bring her downstairs to the lounge. Aryan Girl is quite upset about it.

On her way back up to the bedroom, near my study, wife tell me:

“She farted on me!”

Me: “What?”

Wife: “She was so upset I was taking her away from talking with Tony that I saw her tense up her whole little body to do it!”

Me: (Laughs while thinking… ‘Tis Karma my dear, I was a well behaved and respectful child…’)

Later…

Monkey is finished with the lesson and the wife tells Tony if he has a minute Aryan Girl really wanted to say a quick hello. Keep in mind 30 minutes have passed…

Wife, carrying Aryan Girl on her hip, comes in view of the FaceTime Monkey was having with Tony…

Aryan Girl: (In excited and loud voice) “Tony! Guess what? I farted on Mommy!”

When the laughter dies down…

Wife: She told me she would tell you that when I took her away as she was so upset I was taking her away from the lesson.

Me: (Silently from my study… nods.) Wife’s concept is confirmed… the scatological side is obvious English… but the cold-plotting of revenge and harbouring of a grudge… yeah… Venetian.

On reflection, maybe I should not have done my few minutes of bagworm with the two youngest girls in tow today…

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That is: in the way that needs to be placed in an Asylum, to be clear.

I would also say, in totality of her whole completely idiotic article here , that she can suck my dick, but that is not true. Even if I were not married, or in the unlikely situation that my wife enthusiastically wanted her to do it, I would still not let Melissa go down on me.

Firstly because I think “she” is actually a tranny. Judge for yourself:

But even if “she” were just an overweight actual female, she will never deserve the honour of touching my dick; not even if she was the last woman on Earth.

Her entire bullshit screed is about how normal white people are basically racist for simply existing.

And she (of course) quotes an actual woman hating, racist, plagiarist and actual RAPIST, as her guru of choice. Yes, that disgusting fraud, Martin Luther King Jr.

And look at this:

In Wi$h Li$t, Swift cheekily admits that while most people dream of Balenciaga sunglasses and soccer contracts with Real Madrid, all that she – “the girl who has everything and nothing all at once” (Elizabeth Taylor) – wants is a simple life, the so-called American dream.

“I just want you / Have a couple kids / Got the whole block looking like you,” she sings about her fiancee, football star Travis Kelce.

People were quick to point out that, especially given the cultural climate, expressing a fantasy in which two Aryan-esque rich people populate a neighborhood with blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies is a little… insensitive, at best.

Listen you stupid bitch, I could not care at all about Taylor Swift or whoever she’s getting slammed by if you paid me to care.

But… she’s an American, living in America, banging another American. A country that WHITE PEOPLE took and own by right of mass-murdering conquest from the original inhabitants of it; which is how most people end up owning a specific territory —by killing everyone else in it.

As a result, blonde, blue-eyed people (which are far less than 5% of the global population of dark haired, dark skinned, dark eyed, people, not to mention the “yellow ones” that are also dark-eyed and dark haired) there get to make as many Aryan looking children as they want. I have six of my own and the only regret I have is not starting sooner so I could have twelve of them.

So, if you don’t like it, GTFO. Go live in Pakistan. I’m sure you’ll be welcome and your “sensitivity” about race will naturally show you just how right you are and everyone will clap.

But more importantly: it’s time normal people start to tell absolute freaks like Mel here that they need to Shut The Fuck Up.

And disappear. Hide. You are a disgusting freak and you should never be seen in public. Your opinion is trash and so are you.

There is a reason people like him/her/it were stoned to death in the past: genetic health.

Something got together with another abomination, and they “ mated ”. Like something out of a horrific manga. With tentacles.

And then Mel was shat out into the world.

Imagine if IT breeds again. The iteration of degeneracy may rip the fabric of space time.

We all need to start telling these abominations that they need to all move to a small island off the shore of Scotland. And stay there.

In fact we should make it a law. And then make sure they stay there.

There is no place for this kind of freak in any civilised society.

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You could gift someone an oil tin of the best olive oil on Earth , especially since it will likely be two years before we have any more for sale in the USA as this year’s harvest is essentially nil in the whole region.

Or you could go here and pick out a few books . Please note that in the description of the books you can also find the link to the Amazon paper version if you don’t want to read on your phone/kindle/digital neural implant.

Or go big, become a sedevacantist , buy property near me and help me build up the city-state that will survive any coming adversity thanks to a community of like-minded people that come together to build something free of the dystopic nonsense Clown World wants to impose on us all.

Or… go ahead and browse through the OG blog , its historical articles, or search for key words on it… totally free.

Either way, we are trying to prepare early for it this year.

And if I get the new chainsaw in time, I will also see to it we definitely have enough dry wood this year, though I think we are in a decent position, it never hurts to have more.

Whatever you are up to, wherever you are… I hope you are doing well.

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So… the EXCUSES (in whiny voice):

• I’ve been quite ill.
• So has the wife and kids, and at different times.
• The bureaucracy I had to deal with for various aspects of our lives is absolutely unreal and crushingly busywork.
• Work has been busy.
• I’m just getting my mindset right…

Ok. Now that I have done the whining, here is the reality:

Finally, today, I put up the home-made punching bag. And it’s awesome.

The two girls helped. First the 2 year old (Aryan Girl), and then the 4 year old (Piglet), and finally the wife too all had to help me because I could barely lift the damn thing with all my strength. But in the end it’s gone up, and it works really well.

Now, the black one, which my wife found (after I failed to find anything like it) is really holding up well, considering we had rain, hail, etc. It’s looking like it really is an outside bag after all. Not light either.

It hangs a bit lower so the kids too can get to it easily and in any case it’s pretty tall, so works fine for me too.

On the red one, see that home-made plastic roof thing? Well, I was cutting it out from the side of an old water tank (a giant plastic cube) and there is s spot in the middle where it is really thick and the craft knife just wasn’t going to be able to be pulled through it. I was busy scoring it repeatedly hoping to get through it, when the 2 year old says:

“Dad, cut it from the other side.”

Nothing quite as cool and humiliating at the same time as being proud of your 2 year old being literally smarter than you in that moment. So I did as he said and then bent the plastic and it snapped perfectly.

Anyway, I tested it for a few minutes and did a couple of pull ups on the chin up bar nearby. So you could say I “exercised” today.

Kind of like the fatsos on the grave-sleds in Wall-E when they try to walk.

Also, after it was up and I gave the thing a few punches to get a sense f it, the 2 yo goes:

“Dad, don’t punch the bag!”

To which I replied:

“Darling, it’s meant to be punched. That’s why it’s called a punch bag.”

She scoffed and then goes (I swear to God this is what she said, and yes she is not 3 yet):

“I call it a dumb bag.”

Which made me laugh, and so I asked, “Why do you call it that? Is it because you think the people that punch it a dumb?”

To which she nodded in her inimitable smile with that cheeky smile, and mouthed silently the word “Yes.” basically like calling me an idiot but rather diplomatically.

I have no idea where she gets it from, she’s scarily smart that girl.

Then of course Piglet wanted to punch the bags too.

The weird thing is that I first read about epigenetic probably close to a couple of decades ago, and since then, I have noted that all of my children have some innate ability at fighting. Be it punching, kicking, or wrestling. I genuinely did not ask them to pose or anything that is just one of 3 random pictures I took of them, but look at Piglet’s form. Left hand loaded up, leaning into it, but not of balance and directing the bag (it was swinging towards her after having been pushed) ready to catch that left punch head on.

And the little one gives scarily solid Systema style punches to my chin when we play fight.

Anyway, bag is up. Chin up bar is up. And I have taken a little 9 sessions of Tai Chi style movements up from a video on my phone, so I have no more excuses.

So we’ll see if/how I do anything by next week.

Please post your own wins or loser losses, like mine has been for several weeks now.

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Go here if you want to order one. Half of them have been snapped up by repeat customers already and despite practically zero advertising, I doubt these will last long. If you want one go here and follow the instructions there .

Especially since this year the olives were very few and not great quality, so it’s likely we will have zero oil this year, as we only ship absolutely premium product or nothing.

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PROLOGUE

2023 EXT: (A children’s park): 4yo Young Viking is running, slips, rolls… it’s dogshit he slipped in and rolled in

2024 EXT: (Same park): 5yo Young Viking is running around on his scooter, jumps off, steps in… dogshit.

2025: EXT: (Sitting at the bar near the park, talking with a friend): A fat man with a small dog, walking in the park. No visible doggie bags. He walks off toward the park with the dog. My eldest daughter is here too. I task her with espionage. Follow the fat man. Find out about the inevitable dogshit. A few minutes later she return…

Scorpio Girl: His dog crapped. He didn’t pick it up. He’s on his way back.

Me: Nods. Waits for fat man to return. I get up as soon as I see him approaching and head rather quickly and meaningfully towards him. And I am ready to roll the fat man in his own dog’s shit.

“Are you going to pick up your dog’s shit? Or do I need to make you? Since my little son fell into dogshit twice since I have been here and that’s a park, not your dog’s toilet.”

FM: “Oh… well, I was going home to get some bags.”

Me: “Yeah I’m sure you were. Where’s your house?”

FM: “Uh… there (points).”

Me: “Alright, go get them I’ll be here waiting.”

FM: “Or what?”

Silly fat man, silly, silly fat man. He thinks I may be the average loudmouth wop. Or maybe he’s just stupid.

Me: “Or else you’re picking it up right now, with your face.”

FM: He’s a little stunned but he tries once more “You think so?”

Me: “I know so. Wanna find out?”

He’s very close to really being dragged across the park and having his nose rubbed in dogshit.

FM: “No, okay. I’ll clean it up.”

It’s a miracle. Almost as if violence always works. Amazing. World peace and 30 points in IQ gain in an instant.

Me: “Let’s see it then.”

The fat man goes to a trash bin, rummages in it, finds a plastic, uses it to collect his dogshit. I guess he’d also “forgot” he’d “run out” of bags at home.

I go back to our table.

Friend: “G… I know that guy… he’s my neighbour.”

It’s a small village everyone is someone’s neighbour.

Me: “So sue me, I skipped saying `Good morning`”.

Friend: Chuckles.

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***

Chapter 1 – The Stomp

***

EXT: Same Bar/Park area. It’s Boomer era songs night. Most of the village is there, plenty of kids running around the park, including our savages.

I’m in the toilet after a couple of drinks. I hear a banging on the door and the voice of my 2 yo Aryan Girl. I can’t make out what she says but she is a daddy’s girl and tries to follow me everywhere so I tell her through the door to wait a minute. When I am finished I open to door to see the poor thing standing on one leg, her other little shoe covered in shit.

Aryan Girl: “Dad, I have poo on my shoe.”

Me: Internally sinning against most languages on Earth. “I see that darling. Ok, sorry, come in here and we’ll try to clean it up.”

It’s hopeless. The shit is a soft/sticky, awful stench variety, it’s ingrained into the stitching of her little trainers. I carefully remove her shoes, check she didn’t track any into here, which she miraculously did not, place the shoes in a plastic bin after having wrapped them in toilet paper. I bring them out to the wife (she’s a hoarder, she may want to keep them. At least until she tries to clean them, I figure.)

Wife: “What happened? where are her shoes?”

Me: “In here. Covered in shit.”

Wife: “Oh dammit. How did she manage that?”

Me: “I dunno. I guess she stepped in dogshit. You know what people with dogs around here are like…”

Aryan Girl: “No, it was [Young Viking’s] poo.”

Me and Wife: Both stare at Aryan Girl. “What?”

Aryan Girl: “Yes. [Young Viking] pooed. There in the garden.”

Me: Face scrunching up into exasperation. “What the ffff….”

Wife: Looks at me with that look of desperation a woman might have when the Titanic is sinking and there are no more lifeboats, shaking her head. No words forming.

Me: Thinking: `Where is that little asshole, and does he still have his pants on?` to the tune of ♪♪Dark Clouds are Rising…♪♪

See Young Viking, running past. Grab him.

“Did you just take a dump on the grass?”

YV: With perfect innocence in his face “Yeah.”

Me: Total WHAT THE FUCK Face! No words.

YV: “I needed to poo.”

Me: “Where!?”

YV: Points to a corner of green that abuts near the museum and church, which is really just one medieval building. “There in that corner.”

Me: “Why?!” Second WHAT THE FUCK face.

YV: As if confused. “Because I needed to poo. It was too long to wait until we go home.”

Me: “What about the toilet in the bar? The one you always used before?!!?”

YV: With the look Archimedes had when he figured out volumes, just before he leaped out shouting Eureka. “Oh… yeah. I forgot.”

Me: “You forgot that we don’t just shit on the grass in public?”

[ Note: Apparently he managed it without any witnesses that were not blood relatives, as we later discovered. ]

YV: Silently looks at me. A window-licker wouldn’t blink.

Me: “What did you wipe your ass with?”

YV: “Nothing.”

Me: I don’t have any hair left to pull out. “So you also probably have shitty underwear. Go to the toilet and wipe your arse. And check your underwear.”

He returns shortly thereafter, telling me happily his underpants are clean and now so is his ass. He also informs me the toilet paper in the toilet was finished but he resourcefully asked the bar owner for napkins.

I may have twitched.

Young Viking goes off again. One hopes not to shit in Church, or throw it at passerby’s because he may have seen a nature programme about monkey in captivity. Fuck knows.

Piglet: (the 4 yo, which incidentally also looks beautiful with curly locks, only brown instead of blonde, and IF she could stay clean/without food all over her face/clothing, surrounds, would be quite the angelic little girl) to the wife: “Mommy… [Young Viking] did a stinky turd in the garden there, and then Aryan Girl stepped in it!”

(She’s the family snitch.)

Wife: “Yes darling, we know. And where where you?”

Piglet: Happily! “Watching!”

Wife: Resignedly. “Of course you were,” then, turning to me: “I guess you can’t say much to the fat man with the dog now, can you, my love?”

Me: “I may have to apologise for any shit his dog has trodden into.”

***

Chapter 2 – Curing the Hoarding

***

Two days later

***

Wife: “What’s in that bag outside by the bins?”

Me: “Aryan Girl’s shitty shoes.”

Wife: “What? I though you cleaned those!”

Me: “They are not cleanable. But be my guest.”

***

Ten minutes later

***

Wife: Walks back in.

Me: Looks at her meaningfully, slight smile.

Wife: Defeated. “I binned them”

Me: Nods.

***

Chapter 3 – The Reveal

***

Weeks Later

***

It’s been a long day, wife asked we get pizza instead. Order was made, and to give her a break I take the three little beasts with me, Young Viking (YV – age 6), Piglet (P – age 4), and their sister, Aryan Girl (AG – age 2).

A propo of nothing, YV starts to talk to his sister that is sitting behind him in the car.

YV: “[P] do you remember when you shitted in those people’s garden ?”

P: Laughing hysterically “That was funny, [YV] and do you remember when you shitted in the garden in the park?”

YV and P: Both laughing hysterically.

Normally I would have told them to stop saying “shitted” but they had been indoors all day, they had been relatively good (no fires started, no pets killed, [the cats are semi-feral and quick] no crapping in the lounge or destroying anything valuable [that I knew of]). So I let it run… and so I discovered more…

AG: Suspiciously silent.

P: “And then you told [AG] to stomp your shit!” More hysterical laughter.

YG: “Yeah! And she did!” MORE HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER.

AG: Still silent.

Me: Silently to myself: What. The. Fuck…

P: “And when I shitted in the garden of those people daddy was scared he would slide into my shit, because it was so steep!” More hysterical laughter.

Me: “[Aryan Girl]…”

AG: “Yes Daddy?”

Me: “Did [YV] tell you to stomp on his turd in that garden area near the park?”

AG: “Yes.”

Me: “And you did it?”

AG: “Yes.”

Me: Turning to look at YV sitting in the passenger seat next to me. “You told her to do that?”

YV: Smiling. “Yes.”

Me: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

YV: Still smiling, “It was funny.”

Me: Thinking… Can’t fault his reasoning there, from his perspective. He’s kinda got a point. “I don’t think your mother will think it was funny. We had to throw her shoes away. You know that right? Do you think she will find it funny?”

YV: “No.” Waits a couple of seconds then adds: “But it was still funny.”

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EPILOGUE

INT: Later, at home. Kids in bed, sleeping. Me and the wife alone in the bedroom.

Me: “I wasn’t like that. They don’t get that behaviour from me. I was well-behaved and basically respectful of my parents. That’s your DNA.”

Wife: “No. It’s not just me. It’s you too.”

Me: “But no, babe, I wasn’t like that. Rebelliously not giving a shit like that… okay, poor choice of words. They clearly give a LOT of shit.”

Wife: “Oh yeah, the rebelliousness is from me. But I wouldn’t do naughty stuff if I knew I was gonna get caught and get in trouble for it.”

Me: “Yeah but they get caught all the time, it’s like they are not just evil, they are retarded too.”

Wife: “ No, they are not stupid it’s just they don’t give a shit. And the little one is the worst. You tell her she’s gonna get a spanking if she does it and she still does it and doesn’t give a shit even if she gets the spanking.”

Me: “But that’s what I mean, I wasn’t like that.”

Wife: “Oh yes, that is you. I told you: it’s both of us. They got my rebelliousness and want-to-do-whatever-I-want-to-do attitude, and then it’s worse, because they also have your, I-don’t-give-a-shit, I’m-not-scared, I’m-going-to-do-it-anyway attitude.”

Me: The terrible realisation my wife is right dawning slowly on my face.

I wasn’t especially naughty or rebellious really, but if I got it into my head I was going to do something, no amount of threats or even actual consequences, would dissuade me.

She on the other hand couldn’t follow a rule if her life depended on it, but she would toe the line if there was appreciable consequences to being caught breaking it. She’s right. They got the worst/best of our attitudes towards authority, mixed them together and came up with a toxic, radioactive, anti-establishment approach to life on steroids.

Me: “… Well… maybe if the apocalypse happens… it might serve them well.”

Wife: “Or if they cause it…”

***

The Cherubs, asleep in their beds, look like the picture of childhood innocence and purity.

***

We console ourselves with the thought that some of the most Catholic people ever were crusaders, that lopped off heads, probably shat in Muslim gardens all over the Holy Land, and still one hopes they made it to Heaven.

Deus Vult. God’s Will be done.

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Having lived many years in Africa, this is one of the reasons I do love that continent, despite its many problems.

Oh, and long live the new King of Scotland! Scotland would do better under this guy than whoever is running things there now.

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Missy (whom I appreciate as a reader as she invariably gives a very needed female perspective on things I write about) made the following comment, which, as my brain is won’t to do, sparked a whole host of various thoughts and pathways. the result of which is the post below the image of her comment. Before you get tot hat though, it may be useful for your own purposes to read some other posts I had done previously on the OG blog. While they are nominally also about Orion (so you can see my view of him has never really deviated) the purposes of them was really far more to give you useful tools to navigate the dating/relationship/marriage scene.

I had written about Orion briefly over a year ago, and even then, you can see that right from the start, despite an apparently positive overall view of some aspect of his conceptualising relationships, my perspective was far beyond his. Although I do say so myself, if you are a woman that wonders why men “don’t respect you” or a man who is sick of “all the bullshit women come up with”, I sincerely suggest you read this whole post at the OG blog, as I truly believe it may give you a far more positive perspective on the opposite sex than you might currently have, as well as some pointers on what to look for in order to perhaps become more likely to find the right person for you.

I also did a follow on post that absolutely gave men the silver bullet as to HOW to get into a relationship with women in general , which apparently was (and remains) a non-obvious fact for most men. So you might want to read that too.

I also had a third post specifically on Orion that was longer, more subtle, and yet pointed out his main flaw rather clearly even then. This one is probably for the more intellectual among you, but may be useful. After all, if you are reading this I assume it’s either because you are curious about human relations with members of the opposite sex in general, trying to get into one, or improve the one you are already in, so… it may be worth your time.

Anyway, here is Missy’s comment that sparked all this off:

And here is the reply I had started typing before I realised it would be a post.

Yes, as I said to another commenter, it looks to me that his sexual desires outpaces his ability to fulfil them. I didn’t really comment on the rest of this video, but if you hear it through to the end he discusses (bringing in gay lifestyle as a counter-example) how (if we boil down his bafflegarble) he would like to have multiple sex partners without stigma. And this too is also a direct reflection of the fact he has yet to really understand the nature of a real relationship.

Once you remove the real purpose of a relationship (making and raising children, helping each other evolve as human beings, companionship, a shared future, etc etc [and yes, pretty much in that order]) “relationships” basically becomes sport fucking for fun and profit. And no matter how sporty a fuck you get with, sooner or later, you want to try riding a different ride. In terms of secularism, today that is mostly reduced to serial “monogamy” continuous “cheating” or an arrangement of swinging/hotwifing/cuckoldry.

If I had to guess I would say Orion would prefer to have an “Open” relationship in which he gets to “play the field”. In part driven by his sexual desire 1 and in part by the intellectual realisation that some men do live that way (and he thinks, if they can, why can’t I? which is really a kind of Gamma/Omega/slightly retarded-autistic trait that I have seen multiple low SSH men exhibit [thinking: “If *he* can so can *I*!” When the reality is, no you can’t]).

But he thinks in that way because ultimately that is all secularism has to offer.

Absent God (and then I HAVE to say, absent the Catholic God, and then I HAVE to say: the ACTUAL Catholic version, not the Novus Orco Freemason shadow) life is a pretty brutal affair.

I know because I lived that way for the first 42 years of my life. And I did “very well” insofar as what that realm has to offer. I didn’t care about material wealth as much as I did about certain skills, certain things I was curious about, and the pleasure of being with beautiful and sexual women, and I indulged those things deeply.

Which is why I developed various skills to a high level where I am in fact, without a doubt, and without exaggeration, in the top 1% of people who indulge in those skills (martial arts, hypnosis, understanding of the human neurology related to both, a grasp of some aspects of supposed ESP functions) and in all honesty, in several of them quite probably am in the top 0.1% if not 0.01% 2

But as far as the indulging in the female form went, I never remained jaded. An intrinsic link to reality that some might call faith, even long before I was any kind of religious, inevitably told me there was a reason, and a good reason, for any situation or event or series of them that appeared illogical or wrong in some overall aspect of life. On some level I knew it was me processing the information erroneously that was the problem, not nature itself. I just had the wrong or at least an artificial perspective that needed to re-align with reality, nature and ultimately God too (even if at the time my concept of god was very far removed from a personal one that specifically cared about any of us individually or even more absurdly, me in particular).

This link, for all that Orion implies he is looking for it, he does not have. He is blinded by the material aspect of life, while I, even at my most atheistic, was always at the very least a fatalist. I have never made any relevant decision in my life based on mere materialistic logic, in fact, quite the opposite. I have always followed the numinous, the unseen but felt, the sense of what felt right to me despite the “evidence” of boomer logic, financial prospects, materialistic benefits and so on.

On some level, I never trusted material reality, or even my own eyes more than I trusted what I felt in the quiet depths of my heart. Not the emotions, not the ephemeral sensations or passions, but the calm, silent knowing that resides in our deepest part of who we are.

Maybe not everyone has the ability to sense that at all times, certainly we all make mistakes when we ignore it or suppress it, which as all humans make errors I did too at times, but overall, if I sit still inside, and sense, I know which direction I should go, and hard as it sometimes is, doing so inevitably ends up being the better decision overall. I can’t speak to those who can’t sense that aspect of themselves, it is an absolute mystery to me how such people even exist. It would be like asking me to understand a species of human that somehow lives without breathing.

I do think living and being raised in an environment that is raw and natural, as I did in Africa, certainly helps in that regard, and perhaps it was also the general boomer absence of parenting aside the most basic rules that did it too, I can’t say, but I also believe most of that ability is innate. I do think we all have it, but some people seem to be cut off from it. In my opinion, mostly due to believing the lies of the secular world and its traps and lies.

If you could see the truth of reality, the baseline of it, a layer of it that sustains all that is actually here and you see and touch and think about, it is a level that is non-physical, a realm that is sustained only by the very real prospect of love. A word that Orion absolutely has no understanding of. See how he talks about Christ in the video I linked to in the previous post. Orion is lost. Lost in secularism. Lost in materialism. Lost in the brick and mortar world he inhabits without ever knowing what or who created things that way and what the way out of the cage is.

I can critique his personal failings all day, as anyone intelligent can of most people, but that’s not the point. The point is Orion is missing that fundamental self-knowledge of who he really is what he really can and can’t do, and why.

In a simplified version: As a kid I would have loved to become an astronaut. But… the reality is that my assumptions about what that entailed to achieve were not even as wrong as my assumptions about what it would be like to actually be an astronaut. And in retrospect, had I tried to be on that path, my life would have been absolutely awful. Orion is like the kid that still is trying to be an astronaut, but he hasn’t got the prime essence to be one, the skill for it, or really, the purpose for it.

For all that Orion gives “sound advice” to men who are struggling with relationships, the reality is that he’s really only perpetuating an advanced form of secularism, that, as always, is very alluring, but ultimately leads you down a path that descends to Hell. Yes metaphorically, but also in reality and spiritually if you care to know.

But my point here is not a religious one per se . The way of Orion leads to pain, ultimately. And failure.

You would be far better off reading the notes this lady posts and trying to really process them honestly.

Anyway, I hope this helps some of you get off the yellow-bricked road to the lies behind the curtain and onto the hard and narrow path of Truth.

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Orion Taraban is pretty much everywhere on YouTube. He has many shorts and also longer form videos all under 20 minutes or so, focussing primarily on relationships.

I haven’t watched many of his videos, although probably more of them than most YouTubers; my time is very limited, so I’ve would say in total, over the last year or so, I probably heard maybe a few hours of his stuff, say a handful or so.

I did however, listen to this specific video in full.

It is clear from it that he used to be or has:

• In a religious community
• Had his heart broken multiple times
• Is a self-admitted “recovering” romantic
• Been rejected multiple times
• Rather conflicted about women and pedastalised them which he admits was one of the hardest things to get over, and he assumed to be upfront with women about being attracted to them would be “disgusting” to them

I would also add that he is:

• Clearly intelligent
• Interested in metaphysics, physics, probably astronomy (from other videos of his)
• He self-admittedly stated he thinks he was not less intelligent or less attractive than his friends who were doing better with women
• He states outright that he approached relationships and figuring out women as a scientist by “running the data” and building a model “based on outcomes”
• Says he went on some 300 first-dates

And I would guess, (but it’s an educated guess), that:

• He became mostly a secularist based on trying to figure out relationships based on what I would call “worldly” metrics, which yes, are factual, but… relationships aren’t a science project
• He is a very intellectual guy, seeking the truth. Not just in relationships, but in general.

But here is the thing: About 34 minutes in or so he talks about how he recently approached a woman and said hi, my name is Orion, and made a gesture of putting his hand out (as in to proffer a handshake).

There are MANY other tells he has that I have noted over the videos of his I have seen, but this one gesture absolutely solidified what I had already surmised about him.

Despite all his intelligence, his work on himself, his 300 plus dates, Orion just has poor game. And I’m sorry to say it’s a sort of genetic thing, or perhaps you can ascribe it to Vox’s SHH, but Orion, despite his intelligence, with is probably in the 140+ territory, his earnest seeking and so on, is not, and never will be an alpha.

He would not be able to lead men into combat (or anywhere else in any decent numbers). He is not a beta/bravo/lieutenant type, as I don’t see him necessarily follow someone else at this stage in his life, though he may have had mentors in his earlier days. I would place him somewhere between a high Delta and a Sigma but in a limited fashion. that is, his singular pursuit of truth in his own fashion (varied as that pursuit may be) is a very Sigma trait, but he simply does not have the charisma, personal magnetism or frankly the looks of a Sigma. 1

His approach, after 300 dates is still amateurish and replete with a kind of radioactive sense of things that will turn off most women and especially any woman that has a sense for the kind of half-savages that are enticing to women even when they deny it.

Even the way he describes being rejected is how a woman turns away from a dead end. While every man faces rejection in his life, I honestly cannot recall a time when it was as bland and flat as that. I have been politely told they had a boyfriend (which was not always enough to prevent then ending up in bed with me later by the way). I have been told “No!” with a sneer of contempt on their face, and in one instance, before I had even said anything at all, as I went to ask a woman that was clearly distressed if she was okay, she put her hand up in a stop kind of motion and said “Don’t even try!” which made me smile because I really wasn’t going to hit on her at all, she just looked like she was suicidal and I thought she might need a word. But hey, maybe that snarl of assumed pre-empting of flirtation with rage kept her from leaping off London Bridge, who knows.

The point is that Orion looks soft. Like a squishy toy. I doubt he has ever been in a fistfight. He certainly doesn’t look like a killer (or at least not the sexy kind, if you know what I mean. I could see him being a really disturbing kind of predator, you know the type, but that’s precisely because those kind of predators are soft, weak, and go after only the smallest and weakest prey of all. And by the way I am in NO WAY implying he is that sort of guy, I would absolutely bet he is not and be shocked if I were wrong.)

The thing is, that I doubt Orion will ever find a happy relationship.

He has abandoned the concept of a Christian God —which is a good thing since the version he was presented with is the corrupted, heretical, fake, nonsensical Protestant version, or the fake, impostor-run “Catholic” one, or the schismatic, icon-laden, “attractive to Americans because it looks like it has some history” Easter “Orthodox” one.

I am certain he has never looked into proper Catholicism, much less 1958 Sedevacantism of the Totalist persuasion, and in fact, despite his intelligence, seeking for truth and so on, I assume he would not likely give it a second glance (also because it would take quite some time to really see and realise what actual Catholicism is like and how much it has been perverted since 1958. And I would bet he would think it’s a waste of time.

But the net result of that is that he floats in some transcendental meditation Deistic kind of “God” idea that I am at least somewhat familiar with (not his specific version which is unknown to me, but the generally stoic Zen-Agnostic-Shintoist type of view I had for most of my life).

That is not conducive to a good relationship. Mostly it’s suitable for the single life, be it monastic or serial fornicator that I was. It’s not sustainable in a lifelong relationship.

I am truly convinced that while there are obviously people that do stay married a lifetime, if it were possible to do a study of proper actual Catholics (as opposed to “nominal” Novus Ordo catholics) and compare them to any other of the fake “Christian” religions, the Catholics would score higher of couples that stay together for a lifetime. there are of course a few odd cults were the divorce rate is also low, I think Mormon and the Amish traditionally also tend to have longer lasting unions.

Here is a (rather dubious) “study”, but it’s what I found:

You’ll see that among the “Christian” religions, Protestantism fares the absolute worst (which includes the Born Again etc etc), but Mormon and Jehovah’s witnesses are in that cultish sphere While I think the “Orthodox” are in many ways less corrupt than the Novus Ordo “Catholics” but their sample size was also about 5% the size (or less) of the “Catholic” sample, and it was noted that practicing “catholics” (still Novus Ordo) divorced even less. I am fairly sure if a separate look at Sedevacantists was done, the divorce rate there would be comparable to the low end numbers.

The study is also deceptive because the Muslim late was previously placed at 31% but the number reported in the table is for a much smaller sample size for this version. And the Wicca/Pagan and Atheist essentially hardly ever qualify as being married, so those tiny numbers that do, being counter-current to their whole belief system, are likely odd ducks that may well stay together for a lifetime.

The point is that absent a purpose for marriage that is based in reality, your marriage is unlikely to last.

Wonder how I know? I am on the third wife. And this one I married as a baptised actual Catholic in Church. The other two, with all the good will in the world simply could not function, because the “purpose” of those marriages was my (and their) hedonistic pleasure in and with the other person and the “relationship” was based on that primarily and perhaps even solely on it.

The true purpose of marriage is to make and raise children. And while my current and final wife and I may have “stumbled” onto this with absolutely no guidance from any “tradition” in either of our families, perhaps because we each already had a child each, we had somehow already realised “we” as individuals were NOT the primary purpose of our own lives. And when we got together and soon had the first pregnancy, that shared concept of “we” being kind of the side-characters in the story, not the actual main characters was already there in each of us if separately initially (I mean, in film terms the husband and wife would be the main “actors”, but the plot of the story would actually be wholly centred on their children).

The joining and finding a way to “mesh” that sense of the children being the primary purpose was again, anything but simple or easy, because again, neither of us had any personal history that was even remotely useful in that regard, since both sets of our parents are boomers and being the most absurdly selfish generation that ever lived, you bet that their “marriages” collapsed in a hailstorm of fire driven by personal egos, hedonism and me-me-me-me boomer fuel.

For all the pain that Orion may have gone through in his life, and I do believe it was probably quite a lot emotionally, And for all that he took on the task of “figuring it out” from a brutalistic “science” point of view, in this regard, Orion is barely out of his mid-twenties in comparison to where I was at his age. Nor has he ever had the natural instinct of a dangerous savage that I had from a very young age, no doubt also due to the savagery I was brought up in.

There is a difference between a man that reads a text book on military tactics and tires to apply them to his life, and a man that has crawled through barbed wire while being shot at in no man’s land and —having survived it and not being irreparably damaged by the experience— how he will apply those lessons to his life.

Orion is a 7 at the very best if he’s brushed up nice in good light, otherwise I’d say he’s a 6 and even that might be generous. It’s not that women are super into the looks of a man, but his softness shines through. If he went crazy at the gym and buffed up and became harder, and took up a martial art seriously, he could definitely make himself a solid 7. It’s not so much he is a 6 or 7 it’s the TYPE of 6 or 7 he is. It’s a soft one. And a woman is likely to be more attracted to a hard and rough 5 than she is to a soft 6 or even a 7 (depending on the woman of course, but I feel Orion would like a fairly passionate one, and that’s how those ones tend to roll).

The very concept of “offering my hand” to a woman when I have just walked up to her to show interest, simply never even entered the antechamber of my mind. In fact, I doubt I ever even spoke before seeing how she looked at me after I made eye contact, and within a second or two I knew if I could go forth (and not necessarily succeed, but at least have enough interest I could) or if to not bother at all.

I feel sorry for Orion really, because I think due to his intelligence, he is unlikely to realise his approach lacks a fundamental concept that determines everything else under it: God. The real one. The one people went on crusades for. Not because they were simple, or brainwashed, or stupid. But because they absolutely BELIEVED!.

So I would suggest to him to find that. And you can’t find that sitting in a comfortable chair friend. You probably need to be in a foxhole or something close to it before you do. And at 40, you better hurry up before your life is consumed like a wet fuse, burning out with a fizzle and no bang.

And no, your fame and your money are not a good substitute for it. They only make it harder to find the true truth about relationship.

But I do wish you well Orion. I hope you make it. I really do.

And if you ever read this Orion, it’s not a hit piece on you. I sincerely hope you get the point and correct accordingly, but I also needed to write it because a LOT of young men get a bit too jaded by your advice, good though it can be in many respects, but the underlying foundation is not as solid as you, or they, imagine. Not at all.

May you find God soon, and may your find be a gentle one, for I know how it is when it is not. Glad, and eternally grateful though I remain for it.

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This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here