Category Archives: America

UPDATED (8/12/022): WATCH: My Talk With The ‘Jolly Heretic’ About The Future Of America

Africa, America, Anti-Semitism, Democracy, Judaism & Jews, Juvenal Early's Archive, Race, Racism, South-Africa

Dr. Edward Dutton of the popular “Jolly Heretic” podcast interviews me about my 2011 book, “Into the Cannibal’s Pot: Lessons For America From Post-Apartheid South Africa”; what it portends for America—has the tipping point been reached?—and much more.

Ed quipped that the book has held up “quite well.” I, of course, wrote “Into the Cannibal’s Pot” with a view to boldly outlining for Americans the contours of the anti-white society that will materialize in America if… if…

Alas, that society is upon us.

I suffer the usual glut of Jewy questions and taunts, but I get the last word. A spontaneous one-upmanship, if you will. But don’t go skipping to the end.

Still, Ed and I have a jolly good time of it. Watch:

UPDATE II (8/13/022): I have uploaded the video with Ed’s kind permission to my own YouTube channel. You can now watch the joust minus the offensive “Jewy” comments below it.

https://lnkd.in/gZeXmsuE

Nothing personal, Mr. Sheer. But I’m up to my eyeballs–had it!–with brooding, sour, judgmental puritanical scolds—species prevalent in North America—lying in wait to take offense at me, my jolly fun use of English (“off with her head!”)–and my persona; simply because it’s not flat-lining. The “F” word when used judiciously is fabulous. Ask D.H. Lawrence. Being an alive, if demure, personality among the walking dead isn’t fun.

UPDATE I (8/12/022): The Mercer fan page praises me for turning in a good performance and has some mild, fussy and unfocused words (the worst kind) for the Jewy stuff that occupied the segment.

Reply: You find “Jew, Jew, Jew” “boring”? What an understatement. Try enduring it for decades. As someone who has written in depth, well-developed works on the defining issues of the day, since 1998–I was having to speak not about my writing; but rather, to defend my character on the grounds that I was born Jewish; and in response to the  irrational hate of low-IQ, emotion-driven mouth-breathers for someone they don’t know.

Here is a simple statement from a man with an obvious urge to do the right thing and an ability to say the right thing:

Robert Dolan @UnzReview says:

She takes a lot of abuse here and never whines.
Her book is actually very good.
Everytime she writes a piece we get to hear about how she’s jewish…..as if we didn’t already know….
C’mon. Judge people by their work and their accomplishments.
Consider also the fact that the people facing the harsh (and usually unfair criticism) are public figures…..they have the courage to speak their minds in public and reveal their thoughts to the world at large, inviting not only social ostracism but financial ruin.

As to the comment about “financial ruin,” Robert gets it. My income—syndication dropped—was lost after I came out against the ConOink’s Iraq War in September of 2002. And burned as hot as molten lava against it for years. Dissident in 2001; dissident now. No change.

UPDATE III (8/13/022): Juvenal Early Dons His Shining Armor: 

A woman is lucky to have a friend such as Juvenal Early (nom de plume naturally), writer extraordinaire, and all-round fine human being. That my toil—and persona—inspires such a valiant defense in someone so kind and gifted means a lot—and offsets unkind cuts and slights from other quarters.

Oh, Jew! Jew! Jew! To paraphrase Scarlett O’Hara, is that all you guys ever talk about.

ILANA expressed herself in this long interview with all of intelligence, class, & erudition that she usually brings to her podcasts, and was, as always, great fun to listen to. But I’m afraid she didn’t speak to the issues I was hoping to hear about: CRT, black crime, the morass in Ukraine, the utter worthlessness of the GOP, etc. For that I blame the interlocutor, Mr Dutton. He seemed to be more interested, in the first half, to hear about South Africa, in the most minute details too, & we got a little bit more about tribal traits than we bargained for. Or perhaps that’s just me. ILANA has been in America for 20 years, & few writers understand better than her what’s happening here, & it was that I was led to believe would be the host’s agenda. But no, we got a lot of Xhosa & Zulu & Buthelezi—& the inevitable Jew questions. The patient lady rolled with the punches, & handled herself with aplomb.

When Dr. Dutton turned to the listeners’ questions, it became really evident that the fix was in. The first 3 questions came from the same guy. And they all had something to do with the so-called JQ. The rest of the questions were of a similar mouthbreather sort. The final question posited one those hypothetical situations that is completely irrelevant to the way we live now (& will be living a millennium from now), something about a world where Jews can’t hold office. ILANA’s jolly “Fuck off” was triumphant & completely appropriate, under the circumstances. It shouldn’t have been, but it was the best moment in the whole 98 minutes.

ILANA is an individual, coming at issues from an individualist’s perspective. At one point, she did say that, as far as identity was concerned, she was an Old Testament (she would call it the Hebrew Bible) Hebrew, with all that that implies with respect to embracing the truth, & raining hellfire down on your enemies. I thought that was pretty cool. Certainly an original perspective. She’s always been an original, you know. I scarcely know where the second-handers would be without her.

Now a lot of you will say how she ignores the elephant in the room, doesn’t say who’s behind all the evil in the world. You have the right to do so, & it’s a testament to Mr Unz’s love of free speech that you can do it here in the most colorful & imaginative ways possible. Personally, I get the enjoyment of a weekly wager with a friend, who also reads ILANA’s columns. We each try to guess how many JQ questions will turn up in the Comments before the next column is posted. The loser buys. We’re both getting pretty soused.

FRED REED: Manners. Aplomb. Deboneurtude.

America, Culture, FRED REED, Gender, Journalism, Music

FRED REED on journalism when it was a trade dominated by tough, rough men, who hung out with bikers and bar-fighting Brunhildes

Let me tell you about aplomb. I don’t mean watery New-Age aplomb, suitable for a fern bar. I mean the real article, forty-weight, that you could lube a diesel with.

This was in the early eighties. I was still a staff writer on Soldier of Fortune magazine. This was years before Craig, the staff artist, killed himself riding drunk on his motorcycle somewhere outside Boulder. (He died, everyone said, as he would have wanted. Horribly.)

In those days Craig and I hung out for a while in the Berkeley Bar in a bad section of Denver. Craig was a big, baby-faced street fighter out of Chicago with a Special Forces past and a mean streak. He mostly drew skulls. He also like the Brandenburg concertos, and used to listen to them at his easel with headphones built into a World War II leather flying helmet.

The Berk was the home pit for the Sons of Silence, a bad biker club. If you haven’t been in dives like this, don’t start now. They swarm with huge bearded bozos with tattooed eyeballs and missing teeth and slow ominous grins and the IQ of a camshaft. You get the impression that they are evolving, but just not as fast as the rest of us. They’ll hurt you. Either they like you or you’re jelly. They don’t worry about consequences. They can’t remember them.

The Berk had Formica wood tables and smelled like a weight room. Rows of bottles waited patiently, but not for long, behind the counter and corpulent biker babes lolled about like stranded elephant seals. No one else did. When you have a biker clientele, you don’t have any other kind of clientele. Craig and I were guests. I had sold Bob Brown, the editor of Soldier of Fortune, on a story about the warm patriotic urges of the Sons, who didn’t have any. The Sons were charmed. They might get on the cover. They knew they would never get closer to significance.

It was cold enough to freeze the personals off an iron dog and dirty snow gleamed yellow under the streetlights. We showed up in Craig’s pickup truck, wearing our credentials: cammies, antisocial T-shirts (“Happiness Is A Confirmed Kill”) and jump boots. A Tribal Meeting followed, heap big pow wow, talk’em. Craig and I sat in a booth with Torque, the honcho, and a brain-fried guy called Lurch, and Mountain Jerry, who was a pretty Tarzan replica with long golden hair like Rapunzel and gold-flecked eyes that spoke of psychopathy and bone fractures. He sort of looked through you.

“We don’t like the press,” Torque said. So what? Nobody did. I didn’t. Torque had a face like a gorilla’s armpit. “You can do your story. SOF’s a righteous mag. Righteous.” I guess it was a recommendation. Like having Carlo Gambino say that you were a Really Good Person.
“We do what we can,” Craig said.

Lurch just stared at his beer with his mouth hanging open. He didn’t actually drool, probably because he couldn’t remember how. I figured he had smoked too much brass polish or sniffed some bad glue.

During this prayer meeting, Lurch had An Idea. You could tell it was bubbling up inside him. His jaw closed slightly and a crazed focus came into his eyes. He was going to say something, as soon as he figured out what. His head came up. Yes, an idea. He almost had it.  And then it left him. He collapsed with a soughing sound, like a punctured tire. Gone. A Real Idea, probably the unified field theory. And it got away. He stared sorrowfully at his beer. Eeyore of the Bikers.

We went back to the tribal thing.

Manners, though. This is about grace, elegance, and aplomb. Yeah.

Later we were boozing at the bar, doing what women call male bonding. It means talking to each other. I was chatting with Mountain Jerry. Craig was talking to some guy farther down the bar and drinking peppermint schnapps. Which was amazing on two counts. First, that the Berk had such an effeminate candy-ass yuppie-swine liqueur. Second, that Craig would drink it in a biker bar. It was grounds for execution.

Thing was, Craig was scary. He’d cripple you. You sensed he was ready to rock-and-roll, and you really didn’t want to rumble with him. Some guys you leave alone. The Sons could smell it. About then one of the biker babes got into it with the barmaid. I don’t know what the raison de guerre was. The challenger was a gas-station Brunhilde like a sack of potatoes, except potatoes have better skin. Shrieking ensued. Barmaids in motorcycle hangouts do not back down. You could tell this one wasn’t a Latin professor at Bryn Mawr. She screamed obscenities in a florid cloacal gush. The potato sack gave as good as she got.

The bikers ignored them and kept drinking. Jerry and I were discussing social encounters in rural bars in West Virginia, where we both came from. The chief instrument of intercourse in those regions was the pool cue. It was simple and direct and provided the hospitals with a brisk business.

Over Mountain Jerry’s shoulder I saw the challenger’s arm flash forward. She was throwing a bottle at the barmaid. Either her aim was bad or the barmaid ducked. Bottles shattered behind the bar and the mirror pretty much exploded. Slivers rained down on me, but missed my drink.
Mountain Jerry never flickered. He grinned his slow mean golden grin and said, “Git it on.” And kept on talking. He was amused.

The bar top glittered with glass fragments. The barmaid was about to leap over the bar to do battle with Spud Sack. Screaming continued. Nobody paid the slightest attention. Down the bar I saw Craig absently, without looking, pull a sizable sliver of glass from his schnapps without interrupting his sentence. He dipped a finger to see whether more shards awaited. No. All was well. He lifted the glass and drank.

That’s aplomb.

Read Fred’s Books! Or else. We know where you sleep.

******************************************

FRED REED describes himself as [previously] a “Washington police reporter, former Washington editor for Harper’s and staff writer for Soldier of Fortune magazine, Marine combat vet from Viet Nam, and former long-haul hitchhiker, part-time sociopath, who once lived in Arlington, Virginia, across the Potomac River from the Yankee Capital.”
His essays “on the collapse of America” Mr. Reed calls “wildly funny, sometimes wacky, always provocative.”
“Fred is the Hunter Thompson of the right,” seconds Thomas E. Ricks in Foreign Policy magazine. His  commentary is “well-written, pungent political incorrectness mixed with smart military commentary and libertarian impulses, topped off with a splash of Third World sunshine and tequila.”

FRED’S BOOKS ARE ON AMAZON, HERE

FRED’S ARTICLES ARCHIVE

Killer Kink

Hardboiled is back! (The exclamation point is to arouse wild enthusiasm int the reader, a boiling literary lust.) Gritty crime fiction by longtime police reporter for the Washington Times, who knows the police from nine years of riding with them. Guaranteed free of white wine and cheese, sensitivity, or social justice.

The Quality Of Conservative ‘Thinking’: Almost As Childish And Flaccid As Progressive Pablum

America, Conservatism, Critique, Democracy, Propaganda, The Establishment, The State

LinkedIn is an intellectual desert like any other social media platform, where adults, ostensible grown-ups, ooze over the vacuous, rah-rah of silly children, waxing fat over the unfettered freedoms enjoyed in the USA.

Yeah, I like the word flaccid, as my friends keep noting. There is nothing like it to conjure how floppy is conservatism and its ordinary consumers. Thought mediates action. If you cannot conceptualize and think clearly about freedom (or lack thereof)—you can’t fight for it.

My impromptu reply:

What utter drivel, on the facts. Consider: As a dissident writer over 23 yeas, my written speech would be less imperiled in Putin’s Russia than it is in the USA today.

https://www.ilanamercer.com/2021/09/centralize-liberty-solution-wicked-woke-tech-part-3/

Have the Panglossians among us heard about financial de-platforming, en masse? Speech restrictions? Has the tom-tom drum passed on the news that some of my colleagues struggle to find a bank with ease?

We have just lived through three years during which the Pharma State has consolidated power as never before. On pain of taking the Covid jab, the state has de facto established license to shutter a subject’s business, deny him freedom of movement, quarantine, fire, and separate him from loved ones. Under Republican and Democrat reign alike.

Arrests of political opponents without due process have become more common in police state America than in Apartheid-era South Africa (which, as chronicled in “Into The Cannibal’s Pot,” was surprisingly legalistic and by-the-book).

The American Administrative, Surveillance and Security State is the most powerful and feared in the world. Ask the greatest libertarian alive, if barely: Julian Assange.

https://www.ilanamercer.com/2021/12/extradited-assange-fears-epsteined/

Pulease!

UPDATED (7/5/022): Independence Day Is Not About Firecrackers And Cookouts

America, English, Founding Fathers, Liberty, Nationhood, Political Philosophy, Secession

“notwithstanding the claims of the multicultural noise machine, the Declaration was as mono-cultural as its author. Let us … toast Thomas Jefferson—and the Anglo-Saxon tradition that sired and inspired him.”ILANA MERCER, July 4, 2019

The Declaration of Independence—whose proclamation, on July 4, 1776, we celebrate—has been mocked out of meaning.

To be fair to the liberal Establishment, ordinary Americans are not entirely blameless. For most, Independence Day means firecrackers and cookouts. The Declaration doesn’t feature. In fact, contemporary Americans are less likely to read it now that it is easily available on the Internet, than when it relied on horseback riders for its distribution.

Back in 1776, gallopers carried the Declaration through the country. Printer John Dunlap had worked “through the night” to set the full text on “a handsome folio sheet,” recounts historian David Hackett Fischer in Liberty And Freedom. And President (of the Continental Congress) John Hancock urged that the “people be universally informed.”

Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration, called it “an expression of the American Mind.” An examination of Jefferson‘s constitutional thought makes plain that he would no longer consider the mind of the collective mentality of the D.C. establishment “American” in any meaningful way. For the Jeffersonian mind was that of an avowed Whig—an American Whig whose roots were in the English Whig political philosophy of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

By “all men are created equal,” Jefferson, who also wrote in praise of a “Natural Aristocracy,” did not imply that all men were similarly endowed. Or that they were entitled to healthcare, education, amnesty, and a decent wage, à la Obama.

Rather, Jefferson was affirming the natural right of “all men” to be secure in their enjoyment of their “life, liberty and possessions.”

This is the very philosophy Hillary Clinton explicitly disavowed during one of the mindless presidential debates of 2007. Asked by a YouTubester to define “liberal,” Hillary revealed she knew full-well that the word originally denoted the classical liberalism of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. But she then settled on “progressive” as the appropriate label for her Fabian socialist plank.

Contra Clinton, as David N. Mayer explains in The Constitutional Thought of Thomas Jefferson, colonial Americans were steeped in the writings of English Whigs—John Locke, Algernon Sidney, Paul Rapin, Thomas Gordon and others. The essence of this “pattern of ideas and attitudes,” almost completely lost today, was a view of government as an inherent threat to liberty and the necessity for eternal vigilance.

Jefferson, in particular, was adamant about the imperative “to be watchful of those in power,” a watchfulness another Whig philosopher explained thus: “Considering what sort of Creature Man is, it is scarce possible to put him under too many Restraints, when he is possessed of great Power.”

“As Jefferson saw it,” expounds Mayer, “the Whig, zealously guarding liberty, was suspicious of the use of government power,” and assumed “not only that government power was inherently dangerous to individual liberty but also that, as Jefferson put it, ‘the natural progress of things is for liberty to yield and government to gain ground.’”

For this reason, the philosophy of government that Jefferson articulated in the Declaration radically shifted sovereignty from parliament to the people.

But Jefferson‘s muse for the “American Mind” is even older.

The Whig tradition is undeniably Anglo-Saxon. Our founding fathers’ political philosophy originated with their Saxon forefathers, and the ancient rights guaranteed by the Saxon constitution. With the Declaration, Jefferson told Henry Lee in 1825, he was also protesting England‘s violation of her own ancient tradition of natural rights. As Jefferson saw it, the Colonies were upholding a tradition the Crown had abrogated.

Philosophical purist that he was, moreover, Jefferson considered the Norman Conquest to have tainted this English tradition with the taint of feudalism. “To the Whig historian,” writes Mayer, “the whole of English constitutional history since the Conquest was the story of a perpetual claim kept up by the English nation for a restoration of Saxon laws and the ancient rights guaranteed by those laws.”

If Jefferson begrudged the malign influence of the Normans on the natural law he cherished, imagine how he’d view our contemporary cultural conquistadors from the South, whose customs preclude natural rights and natural reason!

Naturally, Jefferson never entertained the folly that he was of immigrant stock. He considered the English settlers of America courageous conquerors, much like his Saxon forebears, to whom he compared them. To Jefferson, early Americans were the contemporary carriers of the Anglo-Saxon project.

The settlers spilt their own blood “in acquiring lands for their settlement,” he wrote with pride in A Summary View of the Rights of British America. “For themselves they fought, for themselves they conquered, and for themselves alone they have right to hold.” Thus they were “entitled to govern those lands and themselves.”

And, notwithstanding the claims of the multicultural noise machine, the Declaration was as mono-cultural as its author.

Let us, then, toast Thomas Jefferson—and the Anglo-Saxon tradition that sired and inspired him.

©2019 ILANA MERCER
SEE: “A July Fourth Toast To Thomas Jefferson—And The Declaration,” by Ilana Mercer, July 4, 2019

UPDATED (7/5/022): Thomas Jefferson & The Jacobins “From my reading of Dumas Malone’s 6 vol. Jefferson And His Times,” writes BAB writer Juvenal Early, “I’m to the point where Jefferson has just returned from France, where he’d witnessed the first few months of the Revolution. He had been there 5 years and he continued to detest the whole idea of the king, and was still much opposed to England. The England most recently of Edmond Burke and Dr. Johnson, as we know. So Jefferson was naturally inclined toward the Jacobins, very good friends with his fellow Mason the Marquis de Lafayette. Also a very reverent friend of that most radical of the founders (I think) Mr Franklin.”

So, yes, TJ was pretty radical by American standards when he joined Washington’s administration. He was even a little suspect in some corners, for having too favorable a view of the French Revolution. He would cool off on the Revolution later, I think. I’ve heard that. But I haven’t got to that part. A long way to go.