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On Barbarism
Crackpot Mailbox: Viking Age Barbarian and LaFond Considering Our Anti-Frailing Nature
Tue, Dec 31, 2019, 1:58 AM (2 days ago)
Hi James, here is the draft preface to the book I am working on. Has a discussion of you. We could expand this.
In the future, I wouldn't mind writing a book about your work, literary biography sort of thing.
Heil og sæll,
VAB
Brief excerpts from: Preface to The Barbarian Reborn, by Viking Age Barbarian, forthcoming 2020 by Manticore Press.
In the previously published Manticore book, Zombie Apocalypse Now! Why the Collapse of Civilization is Nigh, by my barbarian brother from another genetically engineered mother, Thorfinn Skullsplitter, it was argued that the present-day cultural preoccupation with zombies and the zombie apocalypse, has more substance to it that just crude reductionist commercial exploitation. There is a deep structured, collective unconsciousness-based social angst about the stability and sustainability of modern Western, or now more generally, techno-industrial civilization...
... Three fellow travellers in the wild world of barbarianism are Bronze Age Pervert, Jack Donovan, and James LaFond, and for masculine honor, I need to acknowledge my intellectual and literary betters. Then, readers who may be frustrated with this book, failing in some way to climax, have alternatives, if they do not know of these writers and are still in an apocalyptic virginal state...
...James LaFond sees the system as already well advanced in decay, maggots eating the corpse of the West, his home town of Baltimore (“harm city”) serving as an exemplar of what is to come, soon. Chapter 1 below also gives a taste of this coming world of hyper-violence as well. In a myriad of superb, but vastly under-appreciated books, both fiction and non-fiction, Lafond has explored the same theme as BAP, namely how civilization has emasculating, castrating effects upon tradition manhood, turning men, once-warriors, of the Bronze and Iron and Steel Ages, into something we often know-not-what, in this age of estrogen, silicon and consumer softness...
...Lafond, in At the End of Masculine Time, sees civilization as a “Faustian matrix whereby the collective and individual souls of men are incinerated on The Altar.” The self-destructive nature of civilization was a view held to with varying degrees of strength by earlier masculine writers such as Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950), Jack London (1876-1916), Robinson Jeffers (1887-1962), H. P. Lovecraft (1890-1937), and the creator of Conan the Barbarian, Robert E. Howard (1906-1936), so James is in very good company.
...Lafond in his book Taboo You, gives a clear expression of the mindset of the modern barbarian: “I reject philosophy as the whining of old men and the fantasies of soft women hiding behind ideas. I am a barbarian. … I reject all faiths; all religions; all political ideologies; all economic models; all martial arts systems; all beliefs. I am a barbarian.”
-VAB

VAB, I would be honored to be the subject of a literary book and attach no stipulations and would be willing to sit for an interview.
I very much enjoyed this preface and will discuss one of the numerous topics you lay out for the reader, who will be well-served if he manages to get a copy of this work.
In your preface you bring up the idea of our civilized forms being ravaged in a savage end time by our canine pets turned feral.
I see this already in progress. For instance the rampant worship of African Americans as superior moral and metaphysical beings by the pallid hipster class of emasculated, non-procreating worms of Modernity, has already become such a process. The non-breeding social whore, who thinks of himself quite inaccurately in the purified term of "White," even when he runs from his rampaging human pets who he actually, functionally regard as being subhuman as he assigns no agency to their actions but sees them as his own avatar-like Gollum, the Civilized Sissy cannot help but bring his pets along, with the predictable result that he and his will be driven thence again, by their own feral pets.
Just as in the movie Planet of the Apes, I see the logical conclusion of the towering lie that is Modernity, imploding under its own corrupt weight and its ruins to be hunted clean of their fallen occupants by the devolving subjects of their domestication. Fully half of Robert E. Howard's Kull and Conan stories dealt from this vantage with Civilization. Actually, I would say the miscalculation implicit in Modernity, is that all folk may be civilized, which is as insane as declaring that all animals may be domesticated as household pets.
Thank God and may the Weak Fall and the Strong rise from the sputtering gutter called Civilization.
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bSiriusJanuary 2, 2020 4:10 PM UTC

I forgot to tell you about the pygmies, the negritos. There were tiny people with arrow heads up to a foot long, barbed and serrated in every direction. The damage going in was nothing compared to what removing the damned things did. During WW2, the political conditions and militarization that I think the US mirrors more than the Nazis, the negritos sided with freedom lovers everywhere. They would slip into the Japanese barracks at night and remove every other head, silently. Japanese were going insane at the fear factor. They had no idea where to sleep the next night. The stealth of the negritos is legendary. When I lived there, once a year, near the 4th of July they would have a contest to see if the negritos could sneak on base and attain some objective or another. The guards at the gate, as you would expect had german shepard dogs. The negritos would slip in, take cartridges out of the guard's belts, take the plastic tips off their shoe laces, and a fucking chalk circle about the guard and his fucking dog. They broke into our house routinely, never stole anything, just made coffee, washed the cups and would go back out the window where they had cut the screen. We never heard a thing. Nothing. They never bothered us. There was no glass in the windows there, only screens and shutters, so it was easy to break in. I have loads of stories so will leave it at this. Here's my amazon review of the book..... 5.0 out of 5 stars Keeping a Good Head on Your Shoulders

November 7, 2017

Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase

I spent my formative years on Luzon. There were still headhunters then as well as pygmies, shamans, and practically stone age people. It's hard to convey to my contemporaries what that felt like. It was said they prized white heads. As part of the courting ceremony a head was placed on a stake in front of a potential mates place. Being white and living in the jungle, it was something always at the back of one's mind. It gives you exceptional situational awareness. This book brings a lot of it home.
responds:January 8, 2020 6:49 PM UTC

I love this!

Thanks.
bSiriusJanuary 2, 2020 4:00 PM UTC

When I was a boy I was a military brat. We lived in the P.I. Philippine Islands. More specifically on the island of Luzon. We were quite outside of Manila, beyond Baguio and somewhat near a village named Bilibago. It was the time of the Hukbalahap Revolution. There were also head hunters. Reportedly white heads were prized. We lived off the base, in the jungle near the sugar cane train tracks with a large railroad trestle as a river came through right nearby our house. I used to swim in the that river with the local kids and we'd jump off the trestle. One day a kid hit his head and died. The kids pulled him to shore, laid him on his back, closed his eyes, crossed his arms, and dove back in. They weren't about to let something as cheap as a human life, or as insignificant, spoil their fun. At the end of the day they carried him home. I learned a lot from that and them. I learned to relish the taste of dog meat and could definitely imbibe Fido to survive. Here is a link to a FREE amazon Kindle book about the head hunters of Luzon of which I lived near. What a funny life, huh? Oh, white heads were prized so my parents were a little worried as I said we lived off the base down a red clay road with about 3 other houses within a mile and a half of each other. There was a tiny corrugated metal Muslim house of worship....who said nothing while I climbed the tree next to it and banged on the tin roof with a bamboo pole singing jingle bells at the top of lungs while they were worshiping inside. Today I'd be set on fire and hung upside down from an electrical pole ala Mussolini. My mother heard the racket and came out just appalled at my lack of decorum. Back to my point. Heads were like currency. Heads on a stake in front of a compound was not unusual. A marriage proposal was in the offing. The more heads, the more honor to the father of the bride. Here's the damned book already: https://www.amazon.com/Head-Hunters-Northern-Luzon-ebook/dp/B004UJK7IC/ref=sr_1_1?crid=FGBCFLMIZ7TY&keywords=the+head+hunters+of+northern+luzon&qid=1577998053&sprefix=head+hunters+of+luzon+%2Caps%2C360&sr=8-1
responds:January 8, 2020 6:52 PM UTC

We need some of these Flip cranial collectors in Baltimore.