Thursday, June 15, 2017

Rapespawn Kult




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Wouldn't it be terrible if hordes of foreigners with an insanely violent desert religion descended on Europe and completely took it over? They've already taken leadership of many prominent locations; indeed, the central authority itself seems to be utterly beholden to these warriors of the so-called prophets.

After the sin, in the long age of dying, we are condemned to relive the nightmares we deserve. We are at once the eyes and fists, and under the eyes and fists, of the Rapespawn Kult. How jealous, the ravening hound, when it sees that it may one day lose its master's greatest favor! The most soothing words of praise; the scraps from the finest cuts of table-meat; the vigorous stroking with a loving hand, are no longer given to the aging husky, who has nearly ceased to serve his purpose. How bitterly the hound glares at the largesse shown his unwanted successor, and not even his own pup. How scathingly the bitch loathes her feisty replacement. And how quickly, with what totality, they forget their own glorious days, when the sled was theirs to pull; the pigeon theirs to fetch; the master's boots theirs to lick!

Dying Europe recoils in its schizophrenically hateful worship of the caliphate which hunts it. Children lie dead in the streets, unavenged; preening Muslims squat atop marble statues, encouraging the embrace of constant despair; woman after woman is raped to a bloody death, and the mouths and rectums of untold thousands of young boys are again for sale to roving Semites and their Negroid pets at a rate that makes it seem the old Roman tribute payments have returned.

What if these horrors were forgotten? In the mulatto future, Europe crumbles into North South Africa. The remaining pale-skins are raped and slaughtered out of existence by hordes of people too stupid to contemplate the end of cell phones, electricity, and even food, all of which will vanish once a legacy of verbose Obamas is all that remains of what once was. The carefully safeguarded Sino-Slavic or Sino-Semitic empires gain primacy. Though lacking in innovation, they are masters of the world, being the only ones who can maintain and duplicate some of the lost technologies from the days of myth. History will then show that the first humanoids appeared in China in 120,000 B.C. The United States of Europe, ravaged by an endless succession of detroitian financial crises, blames its troubles on eastern exploitation, Gangesifies the Thames, and turns all large buildings into tenement housing. What remains of its economy relies on Russian slave factories and global sex-tourists. Professional Brazilian scatophages and dogfuckers are driven out of business by the U.S.E.'s desperate teens, while Filipino ladyboys riot in protest at the low rates charged in yellow Europe. Saulchou Wongsis, the revered son of a Chinese father and an Israeli mother, discovers neuroweb evidence that Confucius was born of a virgin in the Year of the Redeemer, which is to occur only once every fifty millennia in the revised Chinese calendar. The world congress of anthropologists demonstrates conclusively that the Great Wall of China was built to protect Asia from the homo erectus invasions of more primitive peoples.

The megaliths of the old west, long stripped of their copper wiring and overgrown by plant or sand, remain a cheerful mystery. Young Chinese students might someday wonder, "How did they do all that with, like, only reed-sandals and maybe a domesticated auroch or two?" But they won't wonder that hard. It's just prehistory. Still, it's cool how some of the things seem laid out like grids, or how they might kinda line up with the stars.

Europe has never stopped fantasizing about what it did back in the war. The Semite's Eldridge-Cleaverian delight at muh-dikkin and/or mutilating white women and children is, indeed, horrible. Like a deathbed confessional, it behooves Europe to attempt to recover its own past--to understand its own horrid source, and the crimes it carries. Not in any way to legitimize the Semites, who dearly deserve the return of an idyllic Vlad Dracul with unlimited resources, but to understand for the sake of past and future. Our collective stupidity is as vast as our loss of memory; there are still mixed rapespawn Euros today who lament the "fall" of Rome at the hands of "the Huns," when in fact the Huns were attempting to preserve civilization against the predecessors of Pope Francis and Angela Merkel.

This is not the province of most, nor of many, for the lines are long passed away. The physical totality of younger Terra is almost wholly gone, except perhaps in childhood snippets in rare parts of the globe, for it was a coveted catch. As natural blond and blonde will perish for the same reason, so too have outward traits of the old world been eaten and spent. There are, though, a few traces of mentality here and there: unrequested, unpredictable throwbacks. That is the song we may try to hear.

When it came time to film Lord of the Rings, Europeans faced a problem: there was almost no one left to portray Tolkien's mythological Europeans. All the shorter-statured peoples, and the great, thick, terrifically strong peoples, had been wholly exterminated, and the closest remaining parallels were a tiny proportion of defective throwbacks who suffered from inexplicable "diseases" defined by "improper" genetic plans for what we now consider standardized growth patterns. More particularly, and perhaps more sadly, no one was left who could reasonably play Tolkien's naturally beardless, youthful yet wise-eyed, beauteous "Valar." Witness:





(For purists, Csokas' hair dye, and both his and Weaving's five o'clock shadows, have their darker moments in which they fully cast down their concealer and stand proud, but their fans' uploads seem to try to reflect favorably.)

Fear not; the point of this essay is not to argue in favor of the existence of "elves," or any other of Tolkien's mythical creatures. This one is suggesting, rather, that Europe has a powerful and abiding passion for extinct varieties of bipedal mammals, which may or may not correspond in any way to ancient or modern fiction poetry or prose. Formally, academically, one best views the obsessions of modern Europeans as idealized sociobilogical or sociocultural memories of one or more predecessor species and/or subspecies driven to extinction.

What will likely prove more troubling for many Europeans, though, is not the laughable suggestion that their history is grossly incomplete (though that will indeed suffice for some, perhaps most). Rather, it will be for such moderns to see themselves in the same light as the Mongoloid savages who broke apart and despoiled and then forgot about the megaliths left by the "sky gods" in the Americas. The pre-Columbian myths of many American cultures included references to the blond-haired peoples who came from the sky, or over the water, and built things and had amazing technology (which might have only been sailing ships, metallurgy, wheels, and masonry), then vanished. Scholars a century ago, and less-cowardly scholars today, attest that these myths are indications of pre-Columbian Europeoid travel in the Americas, and as a means of explaining the Europeoid genetic admixture found in some American Mongoloids, as well as the fact that the peoples encountered after Columbus did not understand architecture or sailing or the wheel, even though their sky-gods had been able to build stone megaliths. Whether you wish to entertain such notions or not, the racialist implication for today's white nationalist or European nationalist is similar: the reason Europeans fantasize about comparatively godlike peoples is because they, too, savaged and/or outbred a predecessor race/species whose achievements they could worship at, but not then duplicate nor maintain.

Consider again Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. We shall discuss this in some detail to help establish popularly-recognized trends which, we will soon see, are duplicated across a wide spread of European art. A problem with making LOTR films using human actors has always been the unavailability of anyone attractive enough to play Tolkien's elves. No men still live, and but few women, who could even approximate the wistful fey nightmares that had filled the jealous imaginations of many rapespawn centuries. Tolkien's "elves" are a fantasy derived from his telehistorical memory. They are beautiful, longer-lived, and more patient and wise than humans; they are hairless but for the scalp and upper face, resistant to disease, and slender and longer-limbed yet stronger and faster and more coordinated; they have better eyesight and superior intelligence; and, they are remembered as being uppity, exclusive, and possessing "magic." They share all of these traits with the exterminated peoples of the ancient Americas. Even 2017 Terran archaeological and genetic science is able to find similar evidence across the Atlantic: indications of the movement of violent feather-dancing tribes of Siberian Mongoloids who migrated by foot, eventually encountering blond-haired peoples who'd settled across the ancient Americas. The land-migrants slaughtered the sky gods for pretty prizes, thereafter regressing to seasonal (or handouts, theft, or paycheck-to-paycheck) survival, foot-based travel, and animal-skin tents. Once all those pretty prizes were gone, the Siberian migrants--like modern Europeans--had left only rapespawn offspring and myths of impossible magic and beauty, which they enviously claimed as their own undiluted heritage.

For the purposes of our current hell, what makes elves distinctive is their women: their women, besides being lithe and beautiful and hairless and disease-free, are utterly hot and superior to human women. Elrond Halfelven is Tolkien's fantasy in this regard, being the mulatto-esque offspring of a human conqueror who bested an elven maiden. Elrond mates with a full-elven woman to produce an overwhelmingly-genetically-elven offspring, Arwen, who is the reward for the rugged, hairy, full-human warrior Aragorn.



This is the modern Europeoid's telehistorical memory saying, essentially, "Where da white wimminz at?" The Evenstar fades, and the elves leave the world and pass into the west, so that Aragorn may breed them out of existence. As a result, the magic is gone. No more pointy ears and clear complexions means the future will be diseased, hairy, and gradually darker. With sad irony, Tolkien speaks of saving Middle Earth from the creepy little goblins (Semites) and the big black Uruk-hai (Negroids), even as he is enthralled with the beauty of the death of the elves. The elves will fade. Those elf maidens who stay behind with "Refugees welcome!" signs will lose their grace to the ready pricks of the men of Gondor and Rohan. It is all too fitting that, as the age comes toward an end, the daughters as well as the sons of men will be, in turn, fucked to death by the orcish hordes.

Lest Tolkien's work be seen as an aberration, consider the western canon. (Un?)Lucky Anchises gets to bed Aphrodite. The power balance works more to human sexual favor, though, in contemplating not goddesses, but nymphs: the childlike forest-folk of Greek myth who are so desirous to human men. Like comparing (modern) European women against Negroid or Semitic women in the eyes of Negroid or Semitic men, the fae prizes of old Europe are superior mates. Fey women were (or, if you prefer, "are described as being") superior to "white" women in the sense of being more attractive, lower testosterone, smaller and more slender, younger for longer, softer and sweeter of voice, more comparatively vindicating of their partner's masculinity, and more likely to produce more intelligent, healthier offspring. Western history/fiction tends to, like race-denying taunters today, portray the fey sperm-recipient as really "wanting it."


-Greek Nymphs

Everywhere that Europeoids have been evinces the cultural legacy of these myths. The literary shrine maidens of Japan--secretly the spirit-children of the god of the old mountains--who are overcome by lust and seduce a young human pilgrim to steal his seed, are complemented globally by the various succubi of other European, Arabian, and Asian myths. This trend continues to today, where adult heterosexual and homosexual dating patterns tend to form aggregate male/female, and seme/uke or top/bottom, patterns based on racial background, e.g., Asian men date Afro women and Euro women less often than Euro men date Asian women, and Afro men partner with Euro women more than Euro men partner with Afro women. When all white women are gone, they may have the honor of being mythologized like their fey predecessors. What is now, "Elves and gremlins and faeries are make-believe, duh," will in time become, "Dey grue blonde hair wit-out no gene thair-py? Das bullshit, man!"

(These arrangements dominate in homosexual culture as well, such that it becomes an issue of concern for supposedly race-blind Social Justice Warriors. When Euro men and Asian men date, why is the Asian almost always the sexually subordinate partner? Given the current victim-based hierarchy, it is no problem if Euro men who date Afro men are almost always the submissive partner, but the Euro/east-Asian distribution is of great concern to many. Even among supposedly egalitarian "gays," the notions of body size, body-part size, testosterone, and racial bodily or facial features, determine majority social patterns in ways that are troubling to true believers.)

Let us consider more modern examples, all drawing from the same ultimate sources as the Greeks, the Han, the ancient Arabs, and Tolkien: the Europeoid obsession with the doomed prize-women, and of the replacement of the woman's race by virile human men. Games Workshop produces its own medieval fantasy game with many dozens of accompanying books, all filled with mystical elves and half-elves (all half-elvenkind individuals have "human" as their other half, despite the availability of numerous other races with which the elf hotties could theoretically mate), but more interesting is Games Workshop's futuristic variation, Warhammer 40K, wherein instead of elves, there are "Eldar," a mystical dying race who passes the shaping of the galaxy's future on to humanity. A matching role exists in Blizzard Entertainment's Starcraft series, where the Protoss--an advanced race of psychic-mages with slender, hairless, long-lived telekinetic females--die out, leaving the galaxy in human hands.



Besides being replete with hot mixed elf girls (as ever, the high elves have died out somehow), Blizzard's medieval product line, Warcraft, offers more-nymphish draenei females.



Human genetic domination over superior-yet-dying races is presented more civilizationally in futuristic settings. The blending of sexuality and blood-achievement is usually more overt in the realm of high fantasy. Terry Brooks' 1977 Sword of Shannara features the half-elven Shea Ohmsford, the only man who can save the world, by virtue of his elven blood, which gives him a connection to ancient elven technology magic, the elfstones. These Stonehengian relics can protect him from the demons that have overrun the world since, well, since the elves were largely killed off somehow. If his dad hadn't screwed that delicious elf maiden all those years ago, everyone in the world would have died.

Brooks' later Magic Kingdom for Sale - Sold! is far more explicit in its presentation of this ideal. In the latter narrative, a wealthy older European-American lawyer, Ben Holiday, travels through a magic portal to another world, where he meets a young and beautiful forest maiden named Willow who demands his sperm:



Willow later bears Ben's mixed offspring, whose vigorous Euro humanity is able to help overcome the darkness that Ben imagines to have plagued the realm of mere forest-folk. The parallel here is strong and obvious: between the way Ben experiences the seduction of ownership, and the mindsets of elderly Anglo-Roman lords who preyed visits to the child-daughters of Celtic hamlets once newly-Christianized jihadists had cleared away prior societies.

1984's Dragons of Autumn Twilight, too, screams its racial memories in Tanis Half-Elven (yep, they actually named the male author's self-insertion that), who uses ancient mystical elven magic to lead men to save the world, where wussy pure-elves have failed.

This trend has not gone wholly unnoticed, often with humorous side effects. Thirty seconds' searching produced this plea:
Title says it all. I love the fantasy genre, and I also may or may not have a thing for Tolkienesque elves. Sigh. So in all my readings there were ample male human/female elf pairings, but none the other way around. What gives? As a straight girl, this is very disappointing. So are there are any books out there that have a male elf/female human as the main pairing? I'm willing to settle for subpairings if there's nothjng else, but come on, there's gotta be , right? Right? Guys? Fan-fiction is all well and good, but I'm looking for something more...comprehensive.
The angst here is understandable; her words parallel those of women in the black community wondering why so many black NFL millionaires choose non-black wives. There's a sad but generally unspeakable answer behind this question, subconsciously understood by most, as to why materialist self-interest would alternately work against the women of a conquering population, then the men of a conquered population. Neither fair nor far-off, in either case.

DC Comics' 1990 Sandman reboot, sold through Neil Gaiman, portrays a mixed Anglo-Semitic fantasy, wherein Gaiman's self-insertion Morpheus (modeled and drawn after the sequelizing agent's likeness) is visited by a delegation of Celtic faeries regarding the fate of a magical realm. The fey Cluracan offers his sister Nuala to Gaiman as a sex slave, but is refused by the superior Gaiman. British culture, in particular, has accustomed itself well to the "she was begging for it" and "their men are weak" retroactive justifications for stealing the isles and their females. This one has previously referenced the trend in Part 3 of the Potter Period series:
Harry is friends with Ron Weasley: an ugly, clumsy, unrefined, poor, uneducated, red-haired symbol of subjugated Britain's Celtic peoples, as subjugated by the Anglo-Saxon pawns of the Judeo-Christian masterminds of the assault on northwestern Europe. Ron Weasley has a large, messy family, and they serve as comic relief throughout the narrative, allowing Anglos to laugh at how stupid and backwards and messy, yet how warm-hearted and quaint, the Celtic survivors are. Appropriately for the patriarchy, Ron's pretty younger sister sights Harry and immediately wants to be taken away for mating and reproduction; she ends up bearing his offspring by the end of the tale.
DC's Gaiman-sequel to Sandman flatters the homosexual Euro, too, as to fae looseness and availability; besides attempting to sell his sister into sex slavery, Cluracan is portrayed discussing his own sexual liaison with a young Egyptian boy the night before (likely an interest stemming from the earlier-acquired portions of Gaiman's genome).

Throughout this age, the Rapespawn Kult has retained its obsession with the exploited women and children. Japan remembers them well, in part, as the pointy-eared Bondage Fairies, and its cultural honesty about childlike fey is a long-running trope in kabuki, manga, and anime. Sexualized "elf" girls in Japanese portrayals tend to have pointed ears that point sideways, rather than up. Otherwise, they are much the same as Europeoid elf-fantasies, possessing the same elongated beauty, realized mysticism, and eminently desirable, hairless, yet not-quite-human, faces and bodies. The most recent take on this may be Gerudo Link, of the Zelda franchise. This 1980s Japanese high fantasy series involves the repeated efforts of an ancient race of "high people," with pointed ears and magic, to save the world from a part-swine desert thief obsessed with gold and innocent Hylian flesh. Zelda seeks to further express the residual Japanese appreciation of the forms and features of the ones who were long ago driven, as Tolkien called it, to the Grey Havens. The poor old Catholic probably never realized that he was descended from those who had proudly scoured the Shire, and that he and his son Christopher were helping the mongrel majesties bring replacement invaders to supplant their own stolen burrows.

Perhaps the best way of indirectly acknowledging this longstanding cultural trend was perpetrated by Vladimir Nabokov, whose 1955 Lolita takes great pains to describe Dolores Haze as a "nymph" or "nymphet," and her male counterparts as "fauns" or "faunlets." Nabokov's genius, in each case, was in associating Humbert's hebephilia with the telegenetic erotic fantasies of many generations of modern Europeoids, who only in the young can find traces of what once drove them to success, and who created mythologies corresponding to desires that are here and now impossible to realize. Humbert's despondent existence, even after he has acquired the randy substitute-nymph, reflects our inability to ever again capture what we have destroyed. No quantity of Greek myths can replace them. And we are condemned always to remember incompletely--like an untraceable, recurring dream-instinct--the existence of the "evolutionary competitors" we were once so proud to kill and absorb on behalf of our dazzling masters.

The Enemy comes for us quite openly, now. Will we at least have the honor of some day being incompletely remembered? Or are our replacements even less interested in narrative quality and self-analysis than we are?

This one does not forgive what is happening now. This one only wishes to remember. Our imaginations in this age; our sense of our importance, and of the supremacy of our time, are overwhelming. We cannot see, we wish not to see, what we are, nor why anyone would come for us.

These are the ruins that we inhabit. We live the fate we deserve. The grace, and the magic, have gone.

1 comment:

  1. We come not to praise Whitey, but to bury him.

    ReplyDelete