My SF is mostly S with a little F

My trilogy on the Overlords of Mars, which has been compiled into one omnibus you can get digitally or on paper (link for the amazon paper version is in the description at the link for the digital version) named Nazi Moon , has ben extremely well received by the few people that follow me, or found it and read it.

It’s a throwback to real hard SF, with quite a lot of human, emotional, (and yes some hardcore sex scenes too, because humans do that) and even romantic plot lines in, as well as quite larger plot lines, some of which are slow burners, and enough new tech and real life information that readers are pleasantly surprised (and often quite shocked) when they find out just how real a lot of the things I discuss in those books are.

And here is yet another point that proves that, along with all the other ones, (Psychotronic healing chambers, various weapons technologies, stealth technology, anti-g tech, etc etc) the technologies I describe in the books are not in fact fiction.

You just don’t know they already exist.

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Warning for the non-autistic: It takes a minute, but this post does get funnier and more interesting after the basics. Fellow aspies will enjoy it from the very first sentence of course.

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Regular readers here will hopefully have realised that in order to have a better, happier, more fun life, as a man, you should absolutely, never, ever, ever, show any mercy to feminists of any kind, and the duplicitous (which means that along with feminists, whole (((ethnicities))) are essentially perennially guilty until proven innocent by a literal miracle from God, while women in general are only given a pass because we need them to reproduce and despite being biologically engineered to deceive, they can still be quite sexy, funny, fun, and SOMETIMES, the “fooling us” can be quite fun too. You know when it doesn’t cause us to give up on life or go on a shooting spree, etc.)

Yes, I can give examples of the exceptions – wrt women. There is no hope for feminists, and I have yet to find a single example of the (((tribe))) that is redeemable. I posit that theoretically one might exist, but so far… nyet.

But… there is another creature that should always be stomped out of existence.

The Gamma “male”.

These creatures are insidious, toxic and have no positively useful function. Consider them the human equivalent of noxious vermin.

Why?

Because it is their kind that “supports” and “allies” with things like feminism and all the Marxist ideologies that all lead to a well paved road to Hell.

So that’s the highbrow reason.

The lowbrow reason is it’s fun to entertain yourself and others by pointing out the evil idiocy of these subhuman pathetic incels, and it is out patriotic duty to see they are so ridiculed that not even the sex-starved feminists will want to reproduce with them. This is how we prevent horrible mutations to enter the genetic pool of humanity people!

So pay attention.

The author of unclejohn’s Band , who I interact from time to time with outside of substack, once referred to something I do as: single datapoint pattern recognition, that —depending on context, the person observing it, their IQ, ability (or more often lack thereof) to do logic and so on— can in turn appear to be:

• The result of blind luck instead of calculated statistical best guess based on incomplete data.
• Magic
• Cheating somehow (having inside information or some secret (and probably illegal) method of gaining more data than others and so on)

What the average normie almost never sees or even has the capacity to understand is that when I make an observation that most people don’t see or think is absurd etc etc, it’s basically because my brain works quite a bit closer to the way the main character’s brain works in the film limitless than most people’s.

Yes, yes, I know, how arrogant of me, how dare I, blah, blah.

Listen: False modesty is not a virtue.

Now, that there ability of being able to discern a whole pattern from a single datapoint is not, in fact, magic.

It is a direct function of IQ.

It doesn’t matter if you “believe” it or not, the fact is that the factor they call g in intelligence measurements has statistically been proven to be a very good indicator metric of all sorts of factors that relate as a causation due to g thanks to the statistical level of correlation.

With respect to single data point pattern recognition, (SDPPR) it works on the basis of a person being able to have an awareness of an extensive dataset of information at any one time that is considerably superior to that of the average person. In THIS respect of it, you don’t need to have a genius IQ to do it. It has been demonstrated that a genuine expert on a topic, say painting for example, is able to tell a forgery at a glance. Even if it’s very well made.

And in this case, by “expert” I mean someone that genuinely has thousands of hours of experience with that specific thing. Not a diploma on a wall.

It’s why I’d always trust a farmer or a bushman to tell me if tomorrow will rain over a weather forecast. The computers invariably screw it up. A human whose livelihood has depended on the weather for decades will not.

So…

All that introduction to show why at times, on this blog, you will see people liken Cube Cubis guy get permabanned, or our almost inevitable next candidate below.

It’s because they are Gammas.

And… say it with me… they deserve zero mercy.

Why?

Because the world is better without them, and the only possible hope they (and the world) has of improvement is that they either:

a) find a way to rewire their entire nervous system (pro-tip: for Gammas this almost certainly means it can happen only as a result of existential level of pain where continuing life on that basis becomes intolerable), or

b) never reproduce and so their flawed and substandard genetics are not passed on to continue harassing humanity with their insufferable behaviour.

Since Substack glitches when you ban people and it still deletes their comments even when you specifically tell it not to, I am, out of the kindness of my heart, clearly, forced to explain the methodology of the Kurgan insta-permaban.

Basically, once you demonstrate yourself a gamma, you’re gone.

And because I can do that SDPPR thing really well (in general, but specifically on gammas) the gamma tells are seen from what a sniper would call “extreme long range”.

You see, I have been getting gammas to swallow their own tongue in impotent meltdowns online since the early 90s when the internet first appeared. So I have 30 years of data (online) and 56 years of it in the flesh, because it’s even more fun in person.

So, as an example, note this single comment by a gamma, that was posted as a reply to my own comment to someone else’s comment on this post of mine that really had nothing to do with space travel:

the comment about becoming a space-faring civilisation was essentially illustrative (though still real), and only tangentially related to the original post; nevertheless, the Gamma felt it was his time to shine, and so, he commented (all since lost thanks to the crappy banning bug of substack):

Now, before I go on to post my reply, try to see why and how you or I might determine this is without a doubt a gamma “male”.

Go in, it’s a fun exercise.

When you are done, compare it to my own result, which is encompassed in this response, which might otherwise get lost once he comments again and gets permabanned:

Note that the checking on his profile to verify that he is a “reader” and not a “doer”, was done purely for the purpose of proving my point for this post. I had no need personally to “verify” what was already obvious to me, but I did knowing that the result would be telling a bit more of the story for those that did not have the same gigantic dataset of pathetic gammas I obviously have residing in my unconscious at any moment in time.

In fairness, my response above does not show all the working out (in fact only a small part of it, mostly in point 5, which as I said is not even a necessary one for me to make).

The reasoning (insofar as I can explain a process that is largely unconscious) is something like this:

• Georgy latches on to a peripheral side issue as if it was the central aspect of the entire conversation, when it clearly is not. Why does someone do this? Several reasons: a) to hijack the conversational topic to one that he prefers in order to make it about him b) because he judges others by his own metric and assumes a peripheral side comment is going to be an inaccurate sound-byte that can be criticised for flaws (as almost the entirety of his “knowledge base” is susceptible to because he is a superficial creature that uses sound-bytes to try and appear “smart” and “well-educated” a “sophisticated individual” instead of what he is: a sophist). c) to show he is a “matter expert” on that side issue and hence “demonstrate” how smart and educated and funny and just oh-so-darn-clever, in the (deluded) expectation that everyone will clap. Instead of see him for the insufferable, obvious, pedantic, ignorant moron with delusions of adequacy that he is.

The above alone is already enough to convict him, but there is plenty more, to wit:

• He brings up the criticism on what he thinks is his undefeatable “gotcha!” in an absolutist sense —which is idiotic because firstly most things are not absolutes anyway, and secondly, specifically on a topic as vast as humanity being space-faring, the very idea that such a proposition is good or bad in an absolute sense is well beyond idiotic, we are now far and deep into properly retarded territory. This person is irredeemably stupid. Perennially so. Iguanas from the mesozoic are more intelligent and capable of intellectual discourse than this specimen.
• The criticism is on a topic he has obviously not only not even had the remotest of knowledge ever hit his one brain cell. It is also a proposition that he has spent exactly zero seconds even contemplating. This is already obvious for the reasons given in the bullet point immediately above, but also separately because, as it happens, if you were going to actually think about the proposition of humanity in space at all, for even a second, you would naturally imagine the how (rockets? Anti-gravity tech? Something else?) and that alone would inform not a conclusion, but if anything else more questions, making the absolutist question even more retarded. Secondly even if you skipped this part and went to the ethical/moral/practical aspects of it (ignoring the how, somehow) once again, you would immediately come up with an almost infinite number of reasons why being space faring would be good. At minimum, it would increase the chances of humanity continuing to exist even billions of years from now when our sun pops (let’s avoid the technical terms for now, this is already autistic level length), so any cursory exploration of the topic already comes to a conclusion that is the opposite of his absolute one.
• As his “proof” of his absurd “conclusion” he refers to someone else’s work, which he figures is obscure enough and yet sounds “highbrow” enough to put him in what he assumes will be perceived as an “intellectual and erudite spotlight”, instead of the “poltroon faking it badly in front of a trash can fire” that it does. I would not be surprised if he has never actually read nor watched the play. In fact I would bet even money he probably only saw parts of it, probably on youtube, and “concluded” things from reading a summarised version of it, possibly in a tik tok comment.
• He further refers to Faust and “faustianism” because once again, he imagines this makes his sound intelligent and well educated. Most people have heard of the book/opera/play/even comic book called Faust. But almost none of them have actually read it. But don’t worry. Neither has he. In his mind he thinks you will go: “Faust…Some highbrow thing by a German guy right? Oh so this guy MUST be a smart and well educated peruser of the arts!!” That is how this pathetic imbecile imagines his mentioning Faust will make him look.
• He has no idea what the actual message of Faust is. Nor Christopher Marlowe’s version of it. Nor, indeed the basic premise of what a “faustian” deal is. Clearly. Because the use of the term, in relation to the topic of humanity becoming space-faring or not, is really nonsensical and not even applicable.

All of which conclusively proves that the entire comment is produced only to try and massage his pathetic ego, which takes a beating daily from even just the side-eye glances women give Georgy since he was even remotely close to puberty. Because he was an insufferable little cringe-feat even as a child, and as an adult he makes ovaries dehydrate at fifty paces.

So you see, it is not magic. It is simply the ability to correctly place a datapoint within a sea of probability, where your life experience and knowledge base, has various “islands” of likelihood.

I hope this was at least entertaining if not educational.

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My six year-old son, has demonstrated a preference for long-term thinking from an early age. When his sisters would devour any treat given on the spot, at age three, he would already ask if he can save part of his for later. Which he did religiously, eating the rest of it the next day.

Which inevitably brought on the typical squealing “gimmes” of “unfairness” from his short-time preference female siblings, who like a boat-load of illegal immigrants would demand double rations of what they had already scoffed, with he apparent memory of goldfish.

Needles to say, in Kurglandia this attitude was met with the equivalent of live fire round from the border patrol. Soon enough, the sisters of gimme realised they would need to revert to mere silent seething, or, in the case of the smarter one, sidling up to her brother and sweetly asking him if he would oh so kindly give her a little piece of (which he usually, but not always, did, and a small one at that).

I have no doubt that failing some tragedy that boy will be surrounded by female attention when he grows up; despite having the social manners approximating those of a rabid bull with an enjoyment for charging at flags. Red, green, yellow, flags in general, and with or without Matador and no hesitation to ram the matador anyway even absent flag. Thing is though, he absolutely does not mind the quasi-ostracism that goes with it, and he’s perfectly capable of making fast friends with other kids when it suits him. I watch from afar, shaking my head at the inevitability of genetics.

But this is just by way of introduction. At times. He acts so barbarically that one would be forgiven for thinking he might be a bit retarded. Including me. However, it is clear from his questions at what I call our “philosophy time” that he’s far from unintelligent. He started about age 3, when bedtime came, while his sisters enjoyed a story or something along those lines, he would talk to me about all sorts of disparate topics with rather profound questions. Astronomy, theology, life in general, friendship, love, he would delve into topics most adults shy away from. He asked about God, Jesus and how it all works repeatedly. He asks me to take him to Church regularly. Which is you see the level of “Christian charity” he exhibits daily, you would think might be a ruse to burn down the tabernacle. But again… I can hardly judge the boy. He does have my DNA in there, after all.

The other day, when it was just the two of us in the car (another philosophy time), completely unprompted, he said:

“Dad, when I die I am going to ask God where He comes from.”

Me: “Uh… okay…” And thinking: What. The. Fuck?!?!? He’s six!

YV: “Because we can’t ask Him while we’re alive. He doesn’t tell us. But after we die we get to see Him, and I am going to ask Him where He comes from. Because I want to know.”

Now, keep in mind, I have not had any kind of theological conversation where I told him what I think happens after we die, never brought up the origin of God, etc.

YV: “ Because we can’t know where God comes from when we’re alive, right dad?”

Me: “Uh… yeah…right. I mean… I think He was just always there… but yeah, I don’t know.”

YV: ( calm and confident, looking back out the window ): “Well, I’m going to ask Him.”

Me: “Okay son. That’s a good question. I’m Curious to know the answer too.”

Except in a half-century of time I have on him, the question never came up for me. I just accepted it as a given from observation of reality at some point, but I never seriously pondered the question.

Anyway, this is not the story I wanted to tell you. This is just preamble, because like my daughter exhibited Venetian style thinking in one of our car journeys, so did he last night.

We went to get pizzas for the family and he came with me and as usual we started philosophising because he has endless questions about all sorts of unlikely topics. I forget how we got to the topic, but it went like this:

YV: “So intelligence is important.” ( A statement, not a question )

Me: “Yes, it is, but more important is your character. To be honest with yourself is the most important thing.”

YV: “What do you mean? People lie to themselves?”

Me: “Unfortunately yes, son. All the time. Some people are so crazy they lie to themselves that they are a girl when they are a boy, or that they are a dog or something else.”

YV: “They are not lying, though. They know. They are pretending.”

Me: ( out of the mouths of babes and all that ) “Yes, you’re right. But they will lie to themselves about other stuff, like thinking that they are a good person when they are not really, or thinking they are honest when they are liars, and so on.”

YV: “But why do they do that?”

Me: “A lot of people are pretty stupid, son.”

YV: “No. They’re not pretty stupid. They are stupid, stupid.”

I was left kind of speechless, and for a second started to think maybe he means pretty…as in… I didn’t get to finish the thought…

YV: “I don’t mean pretty like… you know… beautiful. I mean pretty like when you mean…”

Me: “sort of?”

YV: “Yes. Like that.”

Me: ( reflecting a few seconds ) “Well… I can’t argue there son, you have it right.”

YV: ( smiling with that cheeky smile he knows is a partial troll ) “Is it because I’m intelligent dad?”

Me: ( Laughing ) “Yes son, you sure are.”

And he is. Regardless of the fact some throwback gene to raiding Vikings more often than I’d like makes him behave like a berserker on hallucinogenics.

Still.

His ability to cut to the direct point, ignoring all social conventions, is definitely a trait that like the siren song we people of the Sea have within, rises from the waters of the Serenissima.

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This short video has 13,000+ replies, all basically saying the same thing.

As I have said previously, the only women that will have husbands and children will be the ones that understand the replies are exactly what the problem with women is, take that on board, and evolve to a version of the female that consciously and willingly embraces her femininity, along with the duties of being a woman and wife, of her own free will and does so joyously, because she actually has managed to evolve the capacity for objective, logical, reasoned, thought followed by personal accountability.

Enjoy.

This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here

So… I grew up on, and read Jonah Hex comics in the 1980s and it was without a doubt my favourite comic book character. Mostly because the psychology of the character was very much similar to my own and he didn’t take prisoners when it came to dealing with bad guys. None of that “a hero never kills” nonsense. Jonah Hex blew bad guys away in every issue with grim efficiency and sometimes a touch of dark humour.

Jonah Hex had been gifted a rare pair of .44 Whitneyville-Walker Colt Dragoons with ivory handles early on in his story arc.

As a matter of historical fact, there were only about 1100 Colt Dragoons ever built, and the Whitneyville-Walker version was even rarer, with only about 240 being built.

But as it happens, these revolvers were also shown in the comic as using the standard cartridges that most associate with single action revolvers. The problem is that the colt dragoons were black-powder weapons, so this would have seemed to be an error on the part of the writer of the comic book (and in fairness, it probably was).

However… I was aware that the 1851 Navy, which is probably one of the prettiest revolvers ever made, which also was a black-powder revolver, did have conversions made to take cartridges. These were generally known as Richardson conversions.

What I have only recently become aware of however, is proof that not only did the original Colt Dragoons also have conversions applied to them, but so did at least some of the Whitneyville-Walker ones.

The extraction rod in this case (above) would have been a separate tool not integrated into the revolver.

A modern version of the conversion, from Uberti is shown above and below.

An original without conversion both above and below

Now… astute readers will be aware that we still have a problem concerning the Jonah Hex revolvers…

And it is… I don’t seem to recall if there was ever a panel showing him reloading his guns, but I also am sure I don’t recall him doing so with a separate little rod to extract the spent cartridges.

That said… the way the handguns were drawn, at least here below,

would seem to indicate that the original black powder lever had been left intact on the guns (as they are in the Uberti conversions). It’s a bit of a reach because the revolver is not drawn correctly anyway, it is drawn as a more modern colt with extraction lever integrated and not with the block of rectangular metal in which the black-powder tamping down lever was integrated, but… on the plus side, the “tube” under the barrel is clearly not an extraction lever either as it is just a metal rod without the lever or housing for the extraction rod, or related “nub” to “grab” it with a finger. See a regular colt army below.

Notice the housing with spring and “nub” on the lever to be able to pull the ejector rod into the chamber of the round being pushed out. All things absent from the gun on the cover of Jonah Hex number 76.

So… this would seem to indicate that Jonah must indeed have used a separate extraction rod not integral to the pistol in order to reload his guns. This in any case makes sense because the design of the Dragoon would make the extraction lever linked to the barrel impossible anyway, as can be seen in the difference of a colt single action army with integrated extraction lever below.

Notice that even from this side, you can still see the lever’s little “nub” that allows you to “grip” it with a finger and pull it towards the chamber so that the rod pushes out the spent cartridge in it. The fact this is not shown in the cover of JH 76 makes it just plausible that Jonah is in fact using a separate extraction rod, even if we never see it.

The later (apocryphal, bad, evil) reboots of Jonah Hex by Dark Horse comics do tend to draw his guns more accurately as colt dragoons for the most part, but we don’t really care about these vile caricatures of a favourite character. They may not be as vile as the Star Wars “prequels” but you know how it goes.

A last point is that these handguns weighed about 4.5lbs each (about 2kg) and Jonah always had the pair of them, plus his belt with cartridges in it and his bowie knife and usually a little satchel that may have held money, tobacco, or both. So he always had a pretty heavy weapons load on him, with at least a minimum of about 5kg to cart around pretty much everywhere just on handguns, holster and ammo. That’s 11lbs for you yankees. If you have not lived with a gun in your holster daily, you might not appreciate how heavy that is. Then again, he didn’t have to worry about carrying concealed, which helps make things a bit more comfortable, and having a pair of them would at least balance things out a little.

Anyway, here you now have just a HINT of the level of Nerdy Autism I can get into. You don’t want to know the background data I built for my SF series like Nazi Moon , that a reader will never see, just to make sure the stuff I wrote was physically plausible and possible. Trust me… even though I don’t present as such, there really is no doubt I have just a “tad” of aspieness.

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I do think it will self correct

This post is definitely on the far end of the speculation curve. In other words, I could be completely wrong. However, I don’t think I am, and I have a pretty solid record on predicting large scale trends.

I mean 30 years ago I predicted the trend was to enstupidate people to the point they will hook themselves up to VR porn and feeding tubes and never leave home. We’re not really all that far from it now.

Reading this article , he puts the current (global) crashing of birth rates squarely at the foot of feminism as the absolute main culprit.

I can’t really say he’s wrong, except I would look at the cause/s of feminism and if you do… well, you come up, as every single time, with the (((usual suspects))).

This bit was also nice to read:

Even feminists are surprised by Amish women and the family unit – ‘At first glance Amish women appear to live under the domination of a male patriarchy legitimated by traditional religious teaching. Yet Amish women exhibit an unexpected self-confidence and strength.’24 The self-confidence speaks to the duplicity of the feminist movement. It has gaslit society to believe that a woman at home is a meek, cowed woman. It was the never the case in the past and not the case now.25

So the trend anyway is that only strongly religious groups that curb female “empowerment” are actually bucking the trend.

He doesn’t discuss Sedevacantist Catholics (the only actual Catholics left), probably because he has no idea about them, but I assure you, we are bucking the trend too. Three sede families at a get-together will have over 20 children there. Our churches are growing and with young families with children.

So what’s happening? Are we chaining our wives to the kitchen sink, taking their shoes, and forcing babies into them?

No.

These are women that have chosen God, marriage (for life), and family, which means children. As many as possible.

So how do I see this going?

Well… it might take time. I might not see it in my lifetime. It may be a hundred years or more, and those who make it might not necessarily all be my progeny (though they have a better chance than most), but I think things (in the West/Caucasian lands) will split into three options.

Orcs and Goblin NPCs

These ones die out. The LGBT-faggots/trannies/bestiality freaks. They are not reproducing, and although they do “reproduce” by grooming and infecting children with their perverse mental illness and degeneracy, they are one economic collapse and a few mild apocalyptic war scenarios away from being literally hunted down in the wasteland of the ruins as vermin.

Standard NPCs

These will continue to be the cucked majority and will generally lose out to third worlders, infertility or non-replacement reproduction and having pets instead of children. They are not really consequential other than possibly helping their specific ethnic DNA go largely extinct through gradual replacement.

The 1950s Present Day Pulp Fiction Heroine

This is a shift of quasi utopic proportions I have been vociferously advocating for since my tender teenage years. That is, women that adapt, evolve, become more logical and objective, and somewhat less solipsistic, and thus consciously make a choice to prioritise marriage, family, and children.

These are intelligent, capable, hard-working, and more often than not, very feminine women.

They will be the kind of woman that will have 7 kids and homeschool them and do a better job teaching them algebra than a teacher in the nearest school would. They will be able to cook meals with healthy ingredients that their families love, and also be able to hold their own in a conversation about genetics, physics or music. Or whatever unexpected hobby they might have.

The lady that runs the blog Ballerina Farm is a prime example. These are the heroines of 1950s pulp fiction that can fly a spaceship in an emergency, ride a horse, and fire a sixgun effectively. Only to be awesome mothers and wives in their day-to-day lives.

I genuinely think it is a naturally self-correcting issue. In the long term at least, in the way that nature invariably works: slowly.

So, don’t despair young man. And remember: as men, you might not always remember to not stick your dick in crazy, as the saying goes, but even so, while everyone can see how the odd escapade with a drama queen with daddy issues can happen, there is simply NO EXCUSE for putting your dick in a feminist. And one can only hope that the acid environment of doing so melts you dick away if you do.

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The paying subscribers that haven’t seen a fitness post for two weeks may be wondering what is going on, or if I was just lying and some grifter. Well, neither, but I have absolutely failed for two weeks. Does it mean the weekly fitness posts will no longer happen? No. They will and this is one of them, but because failure is often more important a requirement than success (on the road to success, not in general) this post will be public. Complete with humiliating ritual of pictures.

Also because when you fail because you are weak, lazy, or a liar and usually all three, you should take a public whipping anyway. Self-flagellation in secret is just not good enough, boys and girls, so here is the Kurgan Kurganing himself. A world exclusive.

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The reasons people fail, especially at fitness stuff is essentially, as stated above, because they are either weak, lazy, or both and then they compound the issue by lying about it. To others mostly, but primarily also to themselves, and they do so knowingly.

What they come up with are EXCUSES. A word that really means OUTRAGEOUS LIES. It’s your brain doing the backwards rationalisation thing that is so familiar to women. It’s not ever YOUR fault really. It’s the weather, the fault of your gym, your clothes, the dog, anyone but you.

So, to show this process (which is not really my way) I will not tell you the EXCUSES I could use if I were that sort of liar:

I have been REALLY busy! No, really, listen:

• The tractor’s Tricia (giant grass/weed cutting tool) broke and I spent hours over the weekend with my friend trying to fix it.
• I had people come over for the olive tree maintenance.
• The regular work has been off the chart, which is good, but also takes away from my time.
• It’s summer and I tried to spend some more time with the wife and kids in the evenings.
• I have a couple of other projects on the go to research and am trying a new one out that needs a lot of historical research, and I still haven’t done the covers for the two books that I have essentially finished.
• You know there is random stuff on a farm that always needs attention.

And my health! My HEALTH!

• So about 30 years ago I had a car crash (some guy jumped a stop street at 2 am and I am absolutely lucky to be alive. If he’d hit me one tenth of a second later I would be dead. As it was his Range Rover took out the entire front of the little Toyota I was driving, wheels, engine and all.) As a result of that I have had some spasmed muscles in my neck that even ten years ago, a professional masseuse could not get the thin needles of western acupuncture to go into it even after an hour of massage. the needles bent as if they were made of string or were hitting bone. They were not, that area of my neck has been in an atrophied muscle lock for literally 30 years. But a few days ago, after several days of pretty constant pain I asked my wife if she could give me a massage, and somehow, she managed to make that part of my neck muscle actually click! I mean something finally released! I hardly believed it, but it did. The resulting shifting pain since has been quite exquisite (as it is once something like that old an injury starts to finally have blood flow through it again, it can take days or weeks before it’s functioning more or less normally again). And. hey, you wouldn’t want me to injure myself there again, would you, just for the sake of some push-ups or pull-ups or whatever, right? Right?!?
• Oh and my sleep! Let me tell you about my sleep pattern, being so messed up, partly because of work, partly because of my increasing issues with breathing through my nose which has a badly deviate septum due to being broken 4 times (two by own stupidity, and 2 in heavy “training”). I only sleep about 4-6 hours max in any 24 hour period and usually in 2 sets of 2-3 hours each. Today for example, I slept about 4 hours total, but I also had about 2 hours after yet another massage from my wife where I literally lay still in bed just breathing and concentrating on that shoulder/neck muscle injury and it improving. It’s a technique to fix injuries I detail in my Systema book, available on Amazon, in case you care.

I also have 6 kids and a wife and a farm and…

I could go on. I mean I don’t have any pets, but I could write about how the anxiety of the kids not having pets affects by mood and so the sera toning levels are off, and, and, and…

Now let’s look at the reality of things instead.

The Truth

The reality is that none of those things really matter. The shoulder neck injury does a bit, but even then I could be doing exercises that help/benefit it instead of just sitting on my backside typing away here.

To do 50-60 pushups, a couple hundred crunches and leg raises and to go do a few chin-ups on the bar I set up outside —even if I have to lather myself in poison first to avoid the carnivorous little no-se’em insects whose bites itch like the devil— and even if I add say 15 minutes on the training bike and if I were really going over the top another 10-15 minutes on the bag (which I still need to put up outside, though I am nearly there now) would take no longer than an hour.

And while it is a bit of a challenge to carve out an hour daily for myself, it is not impossible by any means. All it would take is some routine and organisation, which admittedly will be easier once school reopens, but that too is also an excuse.

So, what then, has prevented me from posting for two weeks?

My weak mind.

I have never tried to explain this to anyone before, especially not using words anyway, so we’ll see how this goes. I know that for me to get best results, I need my mind to be first in the right space. It’s a bit like writing. I recall Vox saying he writes his massive fiction books in 500-1000 word instalments. Not me. I may need to sit and do “nothing” (as it may appear to external observers) for a few days, then I can churn out a first draft in days of 15,000 words a day. I wrote the Systema book by writing its approximately 200,000 words in about 3 weeks of averaging 10,000 words or so per day.

I think it was Edgar Allen Poe that said a gentleman needs to know the art of being “lazy”. But by lazy he didn’t actually mean lazy. He meant the kind of apparent laziness a man does by sitting on his porch and looking to the horizon in silence.

I am no gentleman and no one has ever accused me of being one that I can recall, but I have had this skill since I was a child, and by my early teens I had come up with a name for it because I was tired of people asking me what I was doing, when I sat there silently for long periods of time. “Watching Clouds”, I’d reply. And in fairness, I distinctly recall lying on the sofa-bed of my small London apartment after my first divorce, some 20 years ago now, looking out the window at the still natural clouds then in summer, and spending an hour or two just, literally looking at clouds, my mind mostly empty of any real thoughts or contemplations. I remember that activity with a rare sense of peace and calm happiness that has been juxtaposed only by a bright light of active happiness once I broke through the pain or exhaustion barrier at Karate Gasshukus (day-long training events) or swimming training when I used to compete.

And with this fitness stuff, I have been sensing that. The need to get my head in the right frame before I begin. I think in part, it’s why my neck/shoulder has released. I don’t think I ever spent 2 weeks before with a mild but active constant unconscious drive to relax and find the right balance internally, despite the chaos outside of me being relatively constant.

My mind has always been the weak spot.

I recall once our karate instructor talking to all the black belts before a national competition event. He was telling each of us in turn what our strength and weaknesses were and how to maximise the first and minimise the second, and his observations were spot on. I was last in the circle of black belts that had gathered around him and I was curious what he would tell me, as his observations and been so absolutely spot on for the others. And it was just as precise when it got to me. He said:

“You… you’re unpredictable. When your head is right no one can touch you. And when it’s not right, you’re completely useless. And I don’t know what makes it right or not. You need to try and figure that out yourself.”

And it had always been the case. I remember years before this, on reading the Illiad I think it was, where at some point someone says “Don’t go into battle with bad blood, or else you’ll spill it.” It resonated deeply.

But even this, my need to get my head right is partly an excuse. Because if a gun was held to my head, I would get on with the exercises anyway. So even the truth of your reasons, if often half a self-deception.

And now for the final piece of brutal truth.

This is a still taken from a little video short that a lady we are good friends with send to my wife of her kids and family. Her husband walked in half-way and got captured. He was not holding his stomach in, posing, or otherwise trying to impress anyone, he’s just not the type to do so anyway. And he has 7 children, plus two more adult ones. So he hardly has any more time than I do. But you know what he has? An easy and unforced iron will.

The last time I saw him, a couple of months back, we all went to the park together with out respective retinue of children, and he firmly, politely, and easily refused to introduce any junk food into his stomach. It was not difficult for him or forced. It was just the causal discipline of someone that had made a clear choice. It is also no coincidence I think, that he actually is a gentleman, and a better Catholic than I will ever be.

The fuzziness, due to it being taken from the video (yes with his permission, or at least his wife’s!) actually does him an injustice.

And in case you were wondering, he too is 56. We are the same age.

So now, finally, the obligatory whipping at the post required in the public square for failure, here is me. I tried to have the same stance and did not try to “beautify” myself with any camera tricks or breath holding, etc. Brutal honesty when you fail is the minimum requirement.

Aside the unflattering eyes, caught in the midst of noticing two of our kids about to do something they have just been told to not do, so shifting from pleasantly calm to the imminent “What the hell are you doing?!” look, giving an overtone of psychopathy, you can see that there is a marked difference between my friend and I. Probably about 3-5 kg of “softness” that needs to be converted to actual muscle, and while the underlying general tone of my musculature is still decent, it’s not something you can see, unlike in his case. And instead of a 6 or 8 pack, I have the approaching dad-bod uni-belly.

So… take heed you fellow lazy, weak, self-deceivers…

Get in gear, or post your chubby selves online for all to point and laugh at!

The fitness posts will resume next week and be a weekly affair, usually Sunday or Monday.

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This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here

So… you know how James Bond in one of the earlier films is dancing with some woman he’s I think already bedded, and when an assassin tries to shoot him, he quickly spins her round so she gets killed and protects him from the bullet?

Pretty callous, right? But we can say with some clarity that she obviously was not the love of his life. Just another item on his plate. Not a particularly relevant one of course.

Well, now imagine being the woman married to that guy, even if we assume he really does love you. To say it has its challenges is probably understating it a little.

A recent conversation with the wife highlighted this…

But I should probably give a little background first —you know, just to stem somewhat the accusations of psychopathy and so on.

I don’t have a job that requires me to dress formally. Or even at all most days.

I have never cared at all what people assume, think or believe about me, to a degree that is probably hard for normal humans to relate to at all.

Efficiency, speed, and getting things done is more important than the how you do it for most things (but not all). Results matter more than methods, generally speaking.

So, when we go out, I can get the kids ready and in the car in about 15 minutes flat.

When my wife does it, time warps. It could be hours, days, moon phases can shift, who knows. So I try to stay out of the way until “near the end” which is a constantly moving horizon. Her “five minutes” can range from ten minutes to 45. Her “I just need to put my shoes on” can possibly entail getting prosthetics from Afghanistan.

And when at this point I am slowly starting to smoke (not cigarettes, rather, like the human torch, about to flame on) and am gently shoving kids towards the car, my wife will tend to say things like:

“Oh just a sec, I need to brush her/his/their hair!”

“Oh wait, she needs a different shirt.”

“Oh wait, his other shoes go better.”

Which drives me close to insane. Why?

Because I stayed out the way until now, you told me repeatedly we’d be done 10 minutes ago, and then you STILL have to do stuff?!

Now, I know this. I know this will happen, but it still irritates me.

Mostly because I have an (admittedly slightly pathological) issue with being late. On my own, in my life, I think I can count on one hand the times I have been late. Pointless? Sure. Unnecessary? Yeah, probably. Unreasonable given the way of the world? Undoubtedly. Ask me if I care about any of that? Fuck no. Because I don’t care if the rest of the world is composed by 99.999% of lazy, stupid fucks who can’t read a watch. I can. And I will continue to do so. Is that an irritating personality trait I have. No doubt. Do I mean to change it? Hasn’t happened yet. Not likely to happen very soon would be my guess.

Our conversation today was her basically telling me how frustrating and upsetting *I* am. this is more or less how it went:

Wife: “Why do you have to stress me out that way?”

Me: “ Because you had all the time and then it’s “just one more thing” about 15 times in a row. It’s like nagging.”

Wife: “What?!?! But you like me to look good when we go out, right?”

Me: “Sure.”

Wife: “And yet, you sometimes go out with your balls hanging out of your ripped trousers!” (Slight exaggeration. I always have underwear on, balls per se not on display gratis!)

Me: “So?”

Wife: “ And what does that make us look like?!”

Me: “Name ONE TIME I left the house with you looking like a homeless tramp.”

Wife: “You do it all the time!”

Me: “No. listen to what I said: “with you””

Wife: (fuming – Grunts acknowledgement) “Still, so it’s ok for me to go out looking like a homeless tramp if I go out on my own?”

Me: “No.”

Wife: “Oh but it’s ok if you do it??”

Me: “Yes.”

Wife: “Why?!”

Me: “You need to ask? I’m a man. It doesn’t matter what I wear or if I even have clothes on. I went through the village in pyjamas pants looking for the bastard that stole the kids’ walkie talkie, I went to pick up cement, shovels, whatever with ripped dirt-covered clothing, and I can stroll through the village in my underwear too if I’m busy doing some random shit that requires it or I don’t want to waste time getting dressed up while I am still busy unblocking a drain or whatever. And NO ONE will think anything about it. And if they do, the next time they see me out with you guys they will realise, oh ok, he is not a homeless tramp, just occasionally goes out like one when he has other shit to do. You’re a woman. None of those rules apply to you.”

Wife: “ Ok fine, fair point, but you take the kids out looking like whatever!”

Me: “So? They are little kids. No one cares, and I certainly don’t care what anyone else thinks either.”

Wife: “So, you want me to look good, nails all done and everything, but the kids look like tramps?! Do you KNOW WHAT THAT LOOKS LIKE?”

And well… then I got it.

Me: “Oh… yeah…” And I burst out laughing. “Yeah, you’re right, it would look like you’re a superficial bitch that doesn’t give a shit about her kids. Sorry. You’re right. Won’t happen again.”

And it won’t.

And yes, it is basically a retarded perspective I have, because honest to God, that thought had never entered my head before that moment. When I go out with the savages I have for kids, I don’t really care if they are not looking like little GQ models. They tend to tear themselves and their clothes up every chance they get anyway, and I’m fine with that. The last thing I want is a bunch of over-civilised artefacts of so-called “civilised” society for my children. I want them to grow up knowing what matters and what doesn’t. And then ==much later— learning that thin veneer of etiquette required to stay out of jail and blend in with the empty shells of so-called “polite society”, but never be fooled into thinking any of that stuff really matters intrinsically . It may matter for your job, appearances, etc, but it’s not where your heart should ever be.

But of course, she’s right. Total neglect an unconcern for society as a whole is probably not the ideal way to go through life. Not that I’d know. But humans are pretty weak and fragile and I guess that way of being is not for most of them, and in any case, it’s probably a good thing for the kids to learn to at least have the basics of blending in with the rest of the human race. Because let’s face it, just 1% of my DNA in them is plenty to ensure that they will never really bow to authority outside of our house.

The point is, as obvious as her concern was/is to pretty much everyone who is not so dissociated from “society” as I am, it literally had never entered my head. I’m not stupid (quite the contrary) but it appears that somehow, in my 55 years here, I have so done away with the pointless things of life that I am probably straying quite deeply into territory that may have been okay in cave-times, or possibly crusading war parties, but might just be a little “lacking” in modern society.

I still think that’s for the best really, but the kids will have the “homeless fashion-chic” look only if I go out on my own with them from now on. i’ll think of it as training for them to learn to blend in with the zombies when we go out in public all together.

Now… if only I could get them to stop dropping trousers and doing their toilet wherever a convenient tree is, instead of asking to use the nearby facilities, I might actually have a chance at them not being hunted like animals once the 15 minute cities start going up, and before they have all retreated to the armed camps in the mountains.

This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here

On the previous post, this short thread raised an important point we must keep in mind:

Trying to avoid modernism by hiding the TV from your children, is a bit like trying to keep them shielded from the reality of the world.

That never turns out well.

My daughters want me to teach them how to punch and fight, never mind my son(s).

I think in part that is because I point out the realities of the world, teach them situational awareness and ask them at random times how they would react to X happening (X can be a good event, a bad event, a strange event, whatever. The point is to get them thinking and considering, as well as imagining and figuring out solutions in real time.)

The girls also are under no illusion of having magic girl-power that can beat up random men.

The point (and somewhat non-obvious analogy) is that you cannot beat globohomo by pretending it doesn’t exist. You need to face it. Then push it back in the closet under the rock it came out of, then set fire to the closet, dynamite the rock, and salt the land where it used to be. And teach your children to see and fight evil and lies wherever they occur. Make them aware of the fact that at least two major religions (and possibly three and more) on this planet think raping children, including babies as far as Judaism is concerned, is perfectly acceptable, as well as lying stealing or even killing people that are not of their religion. 1

Teach them the truth. And how to navigate in a world of liars, conmen, and thieves.

My parents never had to worry about me doing drugs. The reason was that what they did and who sold them and why was never hidden from me. Everyone I knew at school at some point tried drugs out at least a few times. I never touched the stuff. Never even got drunk. Why? Because doing so made (and makes), no sense. There is no upside to it. And if you have some weird masochist tendencies, then go join a martial arts club that’s serious. You’ll get stomped regularly and at least it will also teach you something that may well save your life one day.

Snorting cocaine on the regular will never do that.

This is why only Catholicism (the real pre 1958 one) counts. Because like it or not, admit it or not, every single strand of Protestantism is really just an idea you identify with. It is not really a belief you are willing to die for. It is not a truth you will rather end up dead than denying. It’s just a cultural club you were likely born into and like being a part of. It’s not something you’d willingly sell all your possessions, march on foot a few thousand miles, and then fight enemies of the faith to the death for. But that is exactly what Catholics did. To help a bunch of scheming cowardly schismatics that had defected from the faith 40 years earlier no less. Who then backstabbed them immediately after being saved by them. three times in a row. Then still whine today when the fourth time the Venetians sacked their city.

You don’t do that sort of stuff because of some culture-club you think sounds nice.

And so it is with all things Clown World and Globohomo. You need to see the evil in them. After that, just like I would never shoot up meth, no matter what, you too will become immune to most of the programming that is being beamed at you 24/7.

And one of the first things you may notice is… well… what is known as “The Noticing”. Of “Early Lifers”; and small-hat wearers. And their proclivities.

That is why the Amish and the weird Finns won’t last. Their histories are but an eye blink in the scene of things. Not so Catholicism. Besides, it was Catholics (with a Pope and all, don’t forget, along with all the sacraments, transubstantiation and Holy Mass) that compiled the Bible. So, yeah… you’re welcome. Now, shed the lies you have worn like your skin all your life, get thee properly baptised, and join us.

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You don’t do that

This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here

This was a response to a comment thread by KD, on the post about my view on the childlessness problem everyone is apparently so worried about in the West.

I felt it was useful enough to reproduce the thread as a full post.

After reading my post and why I am not particularly worried, and what I mean by City States being part of the solution that I think will naturally occur, KD said:

The programming of the West is a beast that has been eating from the toes up. It’s tragic to be unplugged from it while watching the pure evil destruction unleashed on people everyday. There’s a good chunk of women that don’t know how to get there. They had no father’s and were most likely abused by a male relative or teachers growing up. Zero protection and zero guidance. The only ones around were the perverts taking advantage of damaged girls. Grooming them to become porn addicted sluts. Encouraging guys to become pump and dump guys. To further degrade an already destroyed psyche. That’s why destroying strong men was the first order. To remove the balls necessary for guidance and protection of their children. Then sterilizing women and putting them to work. Then women get used to transactional living so when it comes to marital values there is no perceived payoff thereby giving themselves free reign to be the sluts their programming is attempting to make them. They break vows to be with tony soprano or duke the sky diving dude because their programming makes it a transaction. Women aren’t supposed to operate this way. Their true role is so important that it’s the most corrupted and the least guided. Steadfast religious belief, specifically Sedevacantist, is the only way to provide the protective even harsh guidance for women. Because in their emotional eyes anything they don’t want or like will be a harsh. It’s already known we women have a particular problem with solipsistic habits. The current state of the world is what happens when women accept transactional living over spiritual living.

I replied:

Indeed. The difference is that in my experience, the Catholic women are pretty much choosing the “harsh” themselves and doing so in a very happy and conscious fashion. That’s the difference between true faith/belief, and a pretend version.

She responded:

I see what you mean by that difference. It explains the Churchians quite a bit.

And I thought it was a good opportunity to expand on the topic in a way I haven’t really done before:

I was baptised on ascension day 2017 and have now lived in Italy since 2021 in what used to be a very Catholic country until the usurpation of the Church by Satanists began to erode those values from 1958, but that remains part of the underlying cultural fabric still to this day in many respects. Even then it took me at least a year here and more like two, to be able to begin to see how deeply Protestantism has affected humanity, and always in a net negative way. A further mechanising and dehumanising of people. Catholicism places the human being in a central even if subjugate position. It is why the analogy with God being the Father is so apt. Your child, as a loving father, should obey you, not to satisfy your ego (as the gnostics try to imply, and the Satanists do for their master) but because your rules are there to protect, guide, and help him enjoy life the most.

The fact an Italian work force may be late because they stopped to have coffee on the way in is irritating to an anglo marinaded in protestant “efficiency”, but the same protestant efficiency will put you in jail for breaking some minor human law of no consequence. And the Italian workmen may stay on to work until midnight at no extra charge because they see you have small children and need the job done fast. Under Protestantism, the humanity is first diluted then lost, and all under the guise of “freedom” and “equality” and “diversity” and “fairness” in the Protestant zeitgeist.

Even Italians secularised for almost a century now still have a better grasp of the sexual dynamics between men and women and the raising of a family than anything I have ever observed in any of the Anglosphere countries, nor the Teutonic ones. The closest to it are the Russians and it’s a distant second at best with respect to raising a family, although at least in part, their women have learnt to be more objective than western women (with a 50-50 split of when that is a good thing and when it exposes them as monsters with little conscience that women can be in quite different ways from men). And keep in mind they have Eastern schismatic Christianity, which, erroneous as it is, is still light-years closer to the truth than the most pious of Protestant heresies.

It takes a while living as a Catholic even in a nominally Catholic country, to see the massive advantages of Catholicism over Protestantism, especially if, like myself, you tend to be focused on results instead of methods, efficiency instead of comfort, and so on. As a scout, I am used to discomfort, pushing through, and not giving up even against massive odds against me, but of course all of that brutalises you too, and makes you see those who will not, or cannot, as weak, cowardly, lazy, or a combination of all of those (rightly so mainly). But in taking time to perceive the subtleties and depth of Catholicism, you then become aware of the possibility of becoming less brutal, both towards others (easier) as well as yourself (less easy), while not only losing nothing or perhaps only very little in terms of “efficiency”, but gaining massively in both peace of mind as well as long-term positive results down the line. It is more likely for a Protestant mindset to “win” the battle and completely lose the war. For example by pushing through in his career and ending up in divorce court. While a Catholic is far more likely to win the war (with some much needed footnotes) by say not becoming a millionaire but having a happy and numerous family (the two things are not mutually exclusive by the way, the example is designed to make the average Protestant pause and reflect on the relative values he sees in each side of the example).

The footnotes are mostly that this is also a LOT easier to do this if you are surrounded by Catholics too, and harder to see (and by default lead) if you are the pioneer in your area. But the benefit is that a proper Catholic community can achieve results no other group of humans has achieved in human history. Just look at all the Catholic cathedrals and artwork littered around ex-Catholic countries. And if that level of faith and community were turned towards the stars, the fictional book The High Crusade may well happen at a speed and efficiency no one even suspects of being plausible, never mind possible.

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This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here