I Really like this song. Lady of New Tomorrow by Irish Stew of Sindidun. They’re a great band, a Celtic inspired Rock band from Serbia. Check them out. – https://www.youtube.com/user/IrishStewSindidun/
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The Last First Man
I’m seeing First Man tomorrow, I hope it’s as good as this review makes it out to be. Can’t wait!
Having not seen his entire filmography, I nonetheless feel comfortable asserting that Ryan Gosling’s raison d’etre is to make movies about the essence of masculinity. I am convinced this is a deliberate choice. Lars and the Real Girl, Blue Valentine, and The Notebook all touch on aspects of male romance and desire. Drive, Only God Forgives, and The Believer all illustrate different extents of male violence and duty. We’re all aware of the male-feels that Gosling depicts in Bladerunner 2049, and even the Oscar-bait film La La Land lets him show off male charm and suaveness. But it is Gosling’s role as Neil Armstrong in First Man where he embodies everything a man can and should be.
This is a movie all rightists needs to see, and it captures every element of the diaspora of ideas today. Neil is a hard working family man who has…
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This Is What I Believe
I believe it.
Work is living death. “Job creators” are murderers. America is Satan’s agent in the world, spreading the Antichrist gospel of “work ethic.” It must be annihilated. This is what I believe.
Trump, while fun when irritating people, is just one more Satanic agent pushing jobs, jobs, jobs. Entrepreneurs and hustlers are not human beings. They are demons. Their purpose is to propagate evil.
America treats these malformed creatures as gods. Steve Jobs was an archdemon whose food was human suffering. Bill Gates and his succubus wife Melinda save African children only to one day channel them into psychic pain extractors (schools) to devour powerful waves of anguish. Elon Musk, a retarded boy seduced by a Zulu witch and given unholy powers. Warren Buffett feasts on flagellated fetus fear, wallows in Wall Street worship from his Luciferian temple of false modesty built to defile an Omaha burial ground. Archdevil Maruk Z’huqq-h’r-Bhurrgh
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A Memetic Killshot: The NPC Meme
I love the NPC meme. It’s been fun watching it grow and seeing just how much it triggers some people.
The NPC meme is the best meme since Pepe. This thing has legs.
SJWs and generic unaffiliated shitlibs have two thermal exhaust ports: they are most vulnerable to mockery which targets their fears of being conformist suckups and of being unoriginal, predictable bores.
The NPC meme — a humanoid graphic which substitutes a blank ASCII face for expressiveness, to which is attached standard neolib boilerplate — is the sort of soulkilling reminder that the SJW hordes don’t think for themselves and lean on digestible anti-White pabulum to help them feel unique. It’s a clever repurposing of the autism slur to apply to social media consumed leftoids who mouth late night talk show shibboleths thinking it makes them renegades.
Once again, the fine volk at /pol/ earn the coveted Chateau Shiv of the Week for their NPC meme addition to the memescape.
PS How will you know the NPC meme has…
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The Last Flight of the White Man
“Our ancestors could channel that madness and throw themselves at the wilderness and the wild tribes of the earth, but what is left for us to explore? Born too late to explore the earth, born too soon to go to the stars, but born just in time to wonder how the hell we feel so lost, sad, and angry in such a bountiful society.”
“How then am I so different
From the first men through this way?
Like them, I left a settled life
I threw it all away
To seek a Northwest Passage
At the call of many men
To find there but the road back home again”
-Stan Rogers, “Northwest Passage”
“Nah, I’m just a white guy.”
– Beebo
F. Scott Fitzgerald in This Side of Paradise called summer “only the unfulfilled promise of spring…a sad season of life without growth”, but, like a bolt from the blue, one stolen plane and one young man’s life changed all of that. On August 10th, 2018, underneath an auspicious clear sky a young man by the name of Rich Russell, Beebo to friends and family, took to the air in a stolen Bombardier and carried with him the shattered hopes and failed dreams of a million silent white men. There was something magical…
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