13 March 2011
I met my first Pagan, a young Odinist, at a Nationalist meeting 12 years ago in a Pimlico pub across the river from MI6 headquarters. A public school and Oxbridge graduate, he was clad in an old Barbour jacket, brown check shirt, slate cords, yellow paisley cravat, and brown brogues, with a short back-and-sides haircut straight out of 1930s British Lion casting. In other words, not at all what I had expected. We chatted a bit. A Roman Catholic from birth, I found the chap's views highly intriguing. At the time I was growing frustrated with modern Christianity, or what remained of it. Christian men struck me as weak, emotional, and effeminate. The modern Church's focus had shifted from the spiritual to the material; from saving man's soul, to raising the income level of the Third World by whatever means necessary. Abrahamic injunctions against certain behaviours involving food and sex seemed pointless, an absurd "No-saying" to life at odds with the European soul. Christianity's universal tenets of tolerance and pacifism, I perceived, are inadequate to defend a fractured West beset by worsening cultural clashes and civilisational threats. Today modern Christianity has been supplanted by a hegemonic liberalism attracting its own brand of intolerant, murderous zealot. Infected, compromised, and deformed by Judaic-nonsense, it is hell-bent on leading the West down a path of self-destruction and oblivion. But I am getting ahead of myself here. Do not be alarmed. I remain at best a cultural Roman Catholic--more Roman than Catholic at this point--with undiminished loyalty. I observe around me confused, helpless, rootless, deracinated individuals, who don't know what they don't know, who lack confidence because they lack identity. And that is the heart of the issue. For them and for us, I prescribe a radical return.