Sunday, January 17, 2016

The Coming Muses of the Alt Right

The Alt Right, if it is to succeed as a metapolitical movement and change the course of the culture, it must become the culture. Go here to read at The Right Stuff.

Despite decades-long waves of decadent disinformation, whites are waking up. The Alt Right boasts of a successful year in 2015 and plans to move further this forthcoming year. We are fighting a war that transcends politics. It transcends culture. It transcends biology. Encompassing all of the above, the Alt Right is in a war for the heart and soul of the West- to regain the vitality of a once proud and mighty civilization not so far away (both past and future).

No war is fought through societal coercion. To win back civilization, one must assert their vision for it. Every great movement has its bard- the drummer who inspires in the hearts of his comrades the will to carry on- the poet who encapsulates the soul of the Nation. Greece had Homer. Britain- Shakespeare. The hippies- Woodstock. The Alt Right, as every early movement, needs its bards. T.E. Lawrence said “All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.” Artists are the dreamers of the day.

Up until the “New Hollywood”, the period from the late 60s through early 80s, American cinema had become old and stale as the result of the puritanical sterility of the 50s. Americans had grown dulled by the banality of watching married couples sleep in two separate beds and lawful authorities depicted as unquestionable heroes- all in the name of reactionary patriotism. Starting with Bonnie and Clyde, and an entire generation of filmmakers and artists (many of whom trained by the newly Frankfurtized university systemi) who grew up with the Kennedy assassination and Civil Right movement, American cinema would never be the same. In an increasing and unstoppable fashion, American social norms were being questioned- from the politics of American exceptionalism, to race relations, to gender roles. What could have been a reasonable challenge of the bourgeoisification of America, grew into an inversion when put in the hands of young and spoiled Baby Boomers who grew up with lives void of purpose. Awkward chastity was replaced by disillusioned nihilism under the guise of progressive idealism.

Fast-forward 50 years and the children of those Baby Boomers have become the establishment, and no different than the American reactionaries of past, they have become stuffy and stale. The average Hollywood films and television shows are alike- the cast is multicultural, but characterization identity-less. Gender roles have been abolished.ii Aside from Tarantino, a home-grown Gen-X L.A. liberal, racial slurs are not tolerated. Every other commercial consists of a passably attractive mulatto living in a picket white house- desperately teaching us “great unwashed”iii through increasingly less subliminal imagery that “we all bleed red”. Anything aside from this narrative is a rarity, and usually the work of an elite auteur or independent filmmaker. Meanwhile, America is more bourgeois than ever.

Something is in the air, though. While the majority of Americans are too dense to even interpret a narrativeiv, let alone know what a narrative is, a great many are waking up. They're beginning to see the blatant politically correct normalization of our culture.

To this reaction there must be an action. While past Rightist filmmakers such as John Milius made their mark in Hollywood with quasi-B films like Conan the Barbarianv or Red Dawn, and “morally fascist”vi films like Dirty Harry and Death Wish became hits- phrases like “Make my day”* entering the household lexicon- the small flicker of rugged Rightist masculinity left in cinema soon parodied itself out of existence with innumerable sequels and rip offs. James Bond is no exception.vii

This brings us to now. Visions and sounds muster conviction greater than any written word. Cinema is the ultimate Gesamtkunstwerk- the art of totally bullshitting an audience into entering a conjured world by evoking all of their art-perceptive senses. Cinema, through its manipulation of our voyeuristic impulses, possesses the power of altering our perception of reality. The only reason my ex-girlfriend used to harp on my racial consciousness is because every racially conscious white male she knew was an Illinois Naziviii- a two-dimensional caricature confined to a two-dimensional square in her living room. Hence, cinema is the prevailing art form of the day.

Nietzsche said "In art man enjoys himself as perfection."ix Nietzsche believed the artist is a man who uses his will-to-power, not in the service of shaping reality, but to become lord of an imaginary world. While this may seem rather masturbatory or voyeuristic to some, never forget that many of man's greatest achievements sprang forth from his myths. Before the Wright brothers there was Daedalus. Before Apollo 11 there was Jules Verne and Georges Méliès.xxi Where would retail stores and their sliding doors be if it wasn't for Star Trek? The fact that T. E. Lawrence, the author of the quote atop, is best known for his namesake filmxii, testifies to the power of myth. For decades the Left has artificially constructed multicultural ensembles on television screens, convincing Americans that diversity is a commonplace occurrence. For better or worse, art distorts reality. It can also be utilized to provide men with a vision for the future- a blueprint for the less visionary among us. Men must dream before they do. The job of the artist is to make men dream.

What will the history books say? What kind of music will our children listen to? The two are really the same question. As the Alt Right marches its way through human events in these coming years and takes its rightful place at the forefront of the West's political (or more importantly, metapolitical) future, we must confront these questions. What will an Alt Right future look like? What heroes will our children dress as on Halloween? Again, the same question. If we are to take our culture back we must make the culture. We can save the West. We can give birth to a Renaissance greater than the last. We can travel into the final frontier. But before we do those things we need our bards and drummers to make men dream again.


Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Drive: Film Analysis

Film analysis of Drive originally published here at Counter-Currents Publishing. The 10th most read post of January 2016.

Drive, the 2011 award-winning art-house crime thriller, is a modern retelling of the story of the knight in shining armor who saves a damsel in distress from the clutches of evil. Being modern, however, this is not a fairy tale that ends with “. . . happily ever after,” for the modern world cannot offer happiness for the heroic.
The film opens with a handsome young Nordic man (Ryan Gosling) driving through the dark streets of Los Angeles, alone in his 1973 Chevy Malibu. The Driver is never named. He is a silent loner in the tradition of the Man with No Name. A Hollywood stunt driver by day, he is a calculating getaway driver by night. His rules are simple: he will wait for five minutes. If you show up during that window, he will drive. He won’t wait any longer. He won’t assist you. He drives. That’s it.
Early in the film the Driver meets the young, white, seemingly-single mother Irene (Carey Mulligan), who lives in the same apartment building as the Driver with her mixed race son Benicio (who’s half Hispanic). There is mutual attraction, and a relationship begins to bud. This ends, however, when Irene reveals her husband Standard (Oscar Isaac) is getting out of prison soon, and for the sake of her son, she has chosen to stay with her husband.
Despite being friend-zoned, all goes well for the Driver until a Jewish mobster Izzy (Ron Perlman), who goes by Nino to sound Italian, blackmails Standard to rob a pawn shop for him as payback for prison protection. The Driver, who would otherwise let a prison rat like Standard go through with the heist alone, decides to drive for Standard, for the sake of Irene and Benicio.
As is mandatory in such films, the heist goes awry. Standard is killed by the pawn shop owner, and the Driver is left in possession of $1 million in stolen money. Izzy calls on his fellow Jewish mobster, Bernie Rose (Albert Brooks), to clean up the mess. The Driver must die, because he has the money and because he can tie the robbery to Izzy.
By breaking his rigid rules out of altruism, the Driver is thrust into a world of needless chaos and killing. Such actions are reminiscent of modern day liberals, who, out of altruism towards outsiders, have opened Pandora’s box, destroying their formerly successful societies.
Throughout the film the Driver dons, like a suit of armor, a retro silver bomber jacket with a large golden scorpion embroidered on the back. This symbol hearkens back to an old fable:
"A scorpion asks a frog to carry it across a river. The frog hesitates, afraid of being stung, but the scorpion argues that if it did so, they would both drown. Considering this, the frog agrees, but midway across the river the scorpion does indeed sting the frog, dooming them both. When the frog asks the scorpion why, the scorpion replies that it was in its nature to do so.[1]"
Like the frog, the Driver’s well-intentioned sensibilities are used against him by less virtuous creatures. His decision to ignore established well-reasoned rules for the sake of keeping together a family results in his almost perfect world crumbling apart.
But the Driver is determined not to let Bernie and Izzy win. First, he drowns Izzy, then calls Bernie up, asks him if he has heard the story of the scorpion and the frog, and tells him that Izzy didn’t make it to the other side. The Driver is no longer the frog, he is the scorpion, but he does make it to the other side.
Then the Driver meets with Bernie, who offers him a deal: return the money and Irene and Benecio will be safe. The Driver, however, will have to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. Minutes later, as the Driver pulls out the bag of money from his trunk, Bernie stabs him from behind. The Driver, however, is wise to the mobster’s propensity for betrayal and stabs him in the throat, killing him. Like many European men today and throughout history, it is only after he is wounded that he is ready to fight and win.
This confrontation recalls the stab-in-the-back of post-WWI Germany. Germany did not lose the Great War but rather was betrayed by disillusioned citizens led astray by Jewish anti-German propaganda. More important than historical circumstances, however, is the origin of this myth. The “stab-in-the-back” is a reference to the ancient Germanic myth of Siegfried, the quintessential hero of Germanic society, who is literally stabbed in the back by the half-dwarf Hagen (the dwarves, as depicted in Wagner’s Ring, being symbolic of Jews).[2]
The Driver is an archetypal Siegfriedian hero. He is a man without fear, a man who keeps his cool under pressure. He gallantly defends the weak. He is a “real hero,” as the song at the end of the film suggests. But the Driver lacks Siegfried’s innocence. He is, after all, a criminal. Both are literally stabbed in the back by dwarven foes. But, unlike Siegfried, the Driver saw it coming and survived – whereas the dwarves did not. Like Siegfried, the Driver is capable of great physical violence. But his innocence is wedded with cunning, which saves him in the end.
The Driver’s world in L.A. is incompatible with the honor code of a real hero. It plays by different rules. The Driver could have let Standard go alone, assuming he would either die or face imprisonment again, therefore allowing the Driver to once again pursue a relationship with Irene. But this doesn’t even cross his mind, because he is incapable of harboring deceit. The Driver, like honorable whites today, exists in a world that exploits his values at his expense–ultimately threatening his very existence. The Driver is seen as just another animal to be used and discarded by the kosher powers that be. In the name of honesty and family he allows his woman to leave him, ending his chance to pass on his blood. In the modern world his values are inverted.
Irene, whom the Driver saves at one point by kicking in the head of a hitman sent to kill her, responds with terror. Her knight in shining armor has turned out to be a violent savage according to her warped, modernized mind. She doesn’t respond by giving her dragon slayer a kiss, but stares in absolute fear of him. Does this event not illustrate the current predicament of the heroically-minded white man today, whose women are taught to berate him as a sexist reactionary Neanderthal, despite his efforts to do what his instincts tell him, namely to protect them from evildoers who would defile and destroy them?
It is no wonder the Driver has been living a life of isolation. How many young single men reading this review can relate to him as they’re forced to find camaraderie among a bunch of fellow nameless and faceless bloggers. I, for one, have lost valued relationships for my embrace of traditional gender roles and rejection of today’s standards of “polite society.” Many men choose — wrongly, in my opinion — to “Go Their Own Way.”
The film ends as it started – with the Driver, having survived a near fatal knife attack, driving alone into the night. This time, however, he is driving away from the corrupt world of crime and chaos, leaving behind the stolen money, Bernie Rose’s corpse, and, therefore, any breadcrumbs connecting the whole affair to him.
Unlike the Driver, we can never really walk away from the hostile anti-culture we currently inhabit. We will always be looking over our shoulders unless we face and slay our dragons and dwarves. Going our own way is not enough. A real hero does not merely walk away from a fight and say “fuck it” (or, in the case of MGTOW, “don’t fuck it”). He walks away when his quest is finished.