Wed, Sep 16, 8:32 PM (2 days ago)

Hey you old hobo,

I caught a nasty jab in the right eye a few weeks ago and while nursing it came too late to the realization to ask myself "how clean exactly is this rag".

Which means I was blind for almost a whole week on that eye, something that rarely happens. I figured in the past that cooling down a black eye or direct hit with ice packs was only making it worse. Now after healing up from a left eye wounding that almost took a whole year I have to cope with a right eye wounding that when you woke up someone stabbed you right in the eyeball with a scever or something. I can't take hits

anymore like when I was 19.

[It is time to do more shadow and bag work and less sparring, and if this is from fighting, less fighting. You can still improve with less contact once you have banked the contact hours and have that as a reference point.]

Anyway I wanted to talk to you about the mindest of the raped slave that I encountered recently and frequently. The attitude of relative right and wrong, rule breaking and bending morality.

I'am somebody who realy puts weight on the rules and customes of a place because breaking them or in some cases just scratching them creates a riff in which barbarism and anarchy can pour itself. Rules are important. The alternative is toddlers heads on pikes, simply because I would be ready to go there.

So most people in modern society are mentaly not able to uphold any sort of rule or moral standard and find a justification for it that I associate with a raped or abused woman. They break a rule, a seemingly inconspicuous rule, and they build up from that the justification for all sorts of shittery that goes back to "yeah well I didn't raise a fuss

when I got fucked up the arse so i can fuck other people up the arse". A woman gets beaten by a shithead husband so she hands it down to the little ones. "oh it all happend to me thats my justification".

Its one thing when you hear it from some abused skank who thought she could play house with a guy with facial tattoos, its another when you hear it from grown men who have no conception of right or wrong, which I mean in a germanian property sense and not in a moral sense, because these men are just surrogate bitches. They see the world the way a woman sees a household. This is a general degeneration of character and morality and all I can do is stand there like the Road Warrior "just move away and there be an end to the horror" because the way to toddler heads on pikes is spiked with the false intentions of bitch men.

And these subhumans wanna make you as nasty and misantrophic as they are themselves.

-Teutonic Fist

Sir, I do not normally write beyond the fields of research and experience. But, since you have ripped off the coffin lid of Civilization, I might at least voice my suspicions.

The more I read Robert E. Howard's contention—through fantasy fiction—that civilization is corrupting, unnatural, morally compromising and doomed, the more what is going on in my country makes sense. I place were bums used to sleep on the street earlier this year, Portland, Oregon, I am soon returning to. My friend there told me that where we walked to get soda pop with his children, an everyday working man was dragged from his car and shot and killed just for not making overt worship of feral savages parading about as the new lords of the city—these are not rioters, but the savages waiting in the wings to pounce upon the Civilians as soon as the watchdog cops are demoralized or busy elsewhere. With a 20-hour response time for a shooting, the only hope is the morality of barbarism:

-to fight the enemy as a killer beast, not to love him like a brother

-to never turn the other cheek unless it is giving you a tactical option to retaliate

-to recognize that rendering unto Caesar what is Caesars is to grab your ankles and beg for an existential, unlubricated boning

In our society, after nearly 2,000 years of glorifying passive acceptance of authoritarian abuse, whenever that authority—brittle as it is—winces, draws breath, staggers or looks away, then the hyenas and jackals among us rise to fill the gaps left by the dogs of the State where, in ages past, a barbarian would have stood—which is to say an unapologetic actionist who derives the moral authority for his actions from only one source, his willingness to risk life and limb.

Drawing justification for action based on past suffering, is the bitch option, the deep feminine rape mind of the perpetual slave soul. That is why Big Lisp Martyrs and other victimology cults serve only to invalidate false social contracts and leave open the door for the worst among us—the subhumans—to feast on the still wheezing beast Civilization. This, in turn, will open the door for the best among us, those few who are not mind slaves, not looking to a sissy or a ϲunt in an office chair or behind a podium or pulpit to justify our survival actions.

Over a hundred earthquakes shook the Rockies last week.

Record numbers of hurricanes are deluging the gulf coast.

Forest fires are still raging in the far West.

Mudslides will come.

This winter record snows will blanket many areas of this sloth-infested continent.

I see Western Civilization as a broken glass—cracked in many places and leaking, but not yet shattered. Rather than repair and refill the utopian glass, my hope, is that an old grey storm will pour reality into it and burst it into shards and send them tumbling down the stairs of Time until they are dull polished pebbles on some distant shore, far away from this corrupt, simpering abomination, this sloth-worshipping nation, this Distaff Whore.