14 May 2013
Let's be clear: I'm not one. A gentleman, that is. Although, I'm frequently mistaken for one. It must be my smooth manners and elegant bearing. But inside, as I'm the first to concede, I'm a fucking barbarian who longs to shed the blood of our foes. Violence, after all, works. In this, I admit, I'm leagues ahead of my contemporaries, most of whom still don't understand what's happening, and therefore a bit isolated. But that's a topic for another day. Although I adhere to several of the behaviours on this list--firm handshake, eye contact, stand up straight, well-groomed, punctuality--the rest of the items seem fashioned for hollow-chested Christian chaps. As I've written before, the code of the gentleman was designed by weaklings to hobble stronger, more violent men. It is a truth unacknowledged by most that the survival of our civilisation will require the application of force and violence. As it stands, the gentlemen of the West are hardly up to the task. The situation demands an alternative code of values.