15 December 2010
The one Christmas scene guaranteed to upset my natural fogey rhythm is that of a domesticated male following the lady out shopping, arms likely as not carrying various bags and parcels, a beaten look on his face. Poor guy. He represents what is wrong with modern men. The wretchedness of it all is enough to drive one to action. I want to grab the pathetic sod by the medium lapels of his Tweed jacket, shake him about a bit, and yell: “Wake up and grow a large pair, man!”
It is claimed by betweeded psychonauts that Americans are a uniquely materialistic people. I think it is true, but only up to a point. Because surely there is more going on than mere appreciation of objects for themselves alone; no, there is a certain psychology at play. In this most competitive of markets acquisitiveness is a form of status-seeking and certain brands are clear status markers. In this context it is the process or spectacle that matters, not the concrete thing itself, which may partly explain why Americans produce little of permanent worth.
A kind of religion prevails to a degree absent, I think, in other developed Western countries, and even here I think it is the public act of going to church that is significant, not the doctrine itself, which in any case is rarely observed with anything resembling traditional piety. People function according to patterns created by outlandish myths and outright lies, particularly those surrounding their fellow human beings and the future. They live according to fantasies sustained by unremitting propaganda directly suggestive of Soviet media machine. It is a fantasy world. It is a great 'No-saying' to life, a denial or rejection of reality and of human nature.
Where are the world-renowned shoemakers as found in Britain and Europe? Where are the bespoke tailors for which places such as Jermyn Street and Savile Row are famous? Where are the things of value? They do not exist here and never have done. Which is why I remain sceptical about this specific critique.
Holiday shopping means open season on unwitting consumers. It is like shooting a row of ducks in a very small pond. The common peoples of Western countries have been reduced after decades of conditioning to deracinated, cultureless beings, atomised consumer units, giant digestive bags, spiritually and psychologically helpless before the onslaught of the capitalist predator. The holidays are the product of manipulation of the volk traditions of a subject captive population. Consumerism is a false faith. What we face is a crisis of the spirit. We are in a spiritual war. Choose your mindweapon.
I repeat: “Wake up and grow a large pair, man!” Be a thug--not a gentleman. The cult of the gentleman, a product of late-stage Christianity undergoing fatal process of de-Teutonification, was designed by little twerps to weaken and control stronger chaps. Today, in the darkening hour of the crisis of impending immolations, what we need are fewer tubby gents clutching Bibles and more virile Dandies wielding AK-47s, sturdy stylish thugs living the archaic values. And ready to do whatever it takes, as it were. For the serious case--the Ernstfall--soon will demand it.