I noticed a couple of WP link-in’s from a tag which was a term used by David Myatt (pathei mathos). When I looked at the results page I found that my blog had #2 and #3 in the results.
People seeking information on those terms should find the blog of DM and more knowledgeable people than myself. Out of respect for DM and his Numinous Way I have removed those tags and therefore my blog from the tag results page.
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Missionary madness
Sweep up culture w/ a broom
Trashing ancient ways
Is par for the course
It’s fucking rude
To think that you’re above
The laws of nature, what a joke
Purple sashes feeding masses
Smoke on which to choke
I might be a monkey
When it comes to being holy
Fundamental hatred
Get down on your knees and
You’ll never burn me
You’ll never burn me
I will be your heretic
You can’t contain me
I am the power free
Truth belongs to everybody
When I talk about being a noble savage, I’m not claiming that I’m part of any authentic American Aborigine culture. It simply wasn’t passed down to me and the only way to reconstruct it is synthetically.
When I talk about being a noble savage, I’m talking about my genetic heritage. In the same way that my Aborigine genes have shaped my body, they have shaped my mind.
For example, my peak experience happens around too fast and includes a sense of precision. Kenny Loggins sums it up in his song the Danger Zone:
“You’ll never say hello to you until you get on red line overload,
You’ll never know what you can do until you get it up as high as you can go.
Right out on the edge is always where I burn to be,
The further on the edge, the hotter the intensity.”
The men in my family has always had an inexplicable need for motorcycles. It’s a family tradition we knew about but nobody talked about. It was just there.
My grandfather was known for riding a horse “like a trick-pony rider” and being able to shoot anything.
My ancestors were known for hunting with bows and arrows on horseback.
I can’t say what it was like or what it meant to them. Culture shapes experience as evolution shapes the brain. I have the brain, not the culture.
Living cultures are mostly non-verbal. It’s not so much in the words we speak, but in the order and structure of our lives, as we live it and the environment we live it in. It’s transmitted through spatial relationships, vocal tonality, facial expressions, body position, gestures and a million other things I can’t get from a book.
As I’m beginning to study American Aborigines, I’m not looking to duplicate their culture. I’m looking deeper for genetic patterns which may have been passed down to me.
Sinister is a well chosen word. No other word can describe what it means to me.
In general it means ‘ominous’ or ‘scary’. That’s about as far as the average wanna-be billy bad ass gets with it.
Sinister also has another meaning in heraldry. If you were to take a shield and divide it right down the center, one side would be ‘Dexter’ and the other ‘Sinister’.
Shields are two sided objects. Which side is ‘Dexter’ and which side is ‘Sinister’ is dependent on which side you’re looking at and that depends on if you’re wearing one.
For the Homo Hubris, anyone who doesn’t bow down to them is Sinister.
For the Magian, anyone seeking truth beyond that of the Magian is Sinister.
For the Mundane, anyone with a pulse or purpose is Sinister.
For the human Predator, anyone with personal honor is Sinister.
That’s their view, not mine. From my side of the shield, I see it as nobility.
Mundanes are mundanes because they have no sense of professionalism. And professionalism, in the workplace, is personal honor.
I’ve heard some of us say that we need the mundanes to do such lowly things as farming. If mundanes did our farming, we’d starve because mundanes would farm just as they live their lives — by doing just enough to get by — right on the edge of subsistence farming. And that’s in a situation where they have to farm or die.
There is no future for peasants. Only noble farmers who understand interdependence. There’s farmers among the noble but there’s no peasants.
Right now, mundanes are the bane of any kind of professionalism. They abhor it. They slack off as much as they can and always leave one of us to take up the slack and often the blame for their bullshit. Our personal honor alone makes the ‘working’ mundane feel that his status quo of slack is threatened. Our desire and drive to excel exposes their fantasies of self-important masturbation. In both these cases they gang up like jackals to get the noble fired as soon as possible. The manager / boss never seems to notice that he just fired his best person… but then again, what can you expect from a mundane boss who spends his entire shift jacking off in his office?
Mundanes are a disease. We need mundanes about as much as we need AIDS.
So, I’ve been thinking. What would happen if someone got enough nobles in a business to have enough numbers to cull the mundanes off the payroll?
It’s not a city or a town, or a neighborhood. It’s a foothold, and it would be the most profitable, well run business in the country, and a training exercise for those interested in starting businesses that employ nobles.
