Tag: books

I’ve never had a book hit that many Amazon reviews before, so to see it happen in a month is rather pleasant. It’s also good to see that interest has remained high enough to keep SJWs Always Lie at #1 in the Political Philosophy category for the whole month since it was first published.

And speaking of reviews, Jan Weir of American Renaissance reviewed SJWs Always Lie. It’s a pretty favorable review, although the reviewer is subject to what I think of as Clemens Disease; I’m considerably less famous than Bono, after all, but I don’t often see articles about U2 that say “The pseudonymous singer, Bono (real name: Paul Hewitt Hewson). Anyhow, to the review:

While SJWs Always Lie is a highly entertaining read, I don’t want to leave the impression that it’s just a witty romp through the SJW jungle. It’s deadly serious about the damage SJWs can do to you and me as we try to get through our workday. One of their favorite venues for mischief-making is the Human Resources department, particularly in large companies that like to remind you from time to time that they have something called a Code of Conduct. This code is invariably vague, with lots of soothing phrases about commitment to equality, a “safe” workplace, and of course “diversity.” This is an open-ended invitation to all sorts of SJW mischief, which often takes the form of a whispering campaign against you, in which both accusation and accuser remain concealed from view. This has happened to the author, who eloquently describes the pit-of-the-stomach anxiety and confusion of being attacked by unseen assailants.

How to respond? Probably the most valuable part of the book is about what to do and not do if you’re attacked. Don’t apologize. Don’t resign. Fight back.

    Target the enemy at every opportunity. Hit them wherever they show themselves vulnerable. Play as dirty as your conscience will permit. Undermine them, sabotage them, and discredit them. Be ruthless and show them absolutely no mercy. This is not the time for Christian forgiveness because these are people who have not repented, these are people who are trying to destroy you and are quite willing to harm your family and your children in the process. Take them down and take them out without hesitation. If you have any SJWs working under you, fire them . . . .

Mr. Beale also proposes a long-term plan for SJW-proofing our society. I found this the most intriguing part of the book. It displays a level of sociological insight and gravitas that is quite different from the light, snarky tone found in other parts of the book and promoted on the book’s cartoonish cover. The author analyzes the deep rot that the SJWs have caused our institutions, explains how we have made ourselves vulnerable to their control, and tells what we can do to end this vulnerability. His suggestions are too extensive to summarize here, but inter alia, we are enjoined to: Build alternative institutions (e.g., home school your children, create alternatives to SJW-infested Wikipedia); defund and destroy their propaganda centers (e.g., ignore their entertainment media); deny them employment; keep them out of your organizations.

It’s a bracing call-to-arms, based on an honest concept of justice.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention that, like it or not, I am an American Indian (one brother is out on the rez this week, as it happens), and my great-grandfather did ride with Villa. Damn near got killed with him too. In fact, I was talking to one of my brothers today and he told me a funny story about how he was out raking his lawn recently and someone from his wealthy neighborhood driving by stopped his car and tried to hire him to mow his lawn. My brother wasn’t at all offended; when the guy tried to apologize, he said, “why would I be upset that you think I look Mexican? I am Mexican.”

I told him that he should have burst out crying and started a Patreon account; apparently that is the correct SJW-approved response to microaggressions these days.

Despite his height, that brother looks the most Mexican in the family; his equally tall doppleganger works at a Mexican supply store at which I bought a tortilla press last year. Ender actually thought it was his uncle for a moment and was extremely confused about what he was doing there. I look the most Anglo, obviously, whereas another brother looks sufficiently Indian that he was invited to join the American Indian group at his college by strangers.

Having written a book about speech and thought police, perhaps I’ll have to write a book about race police one of these days.

It’s interesting to go back and read books that made an impression on you when you were younger. Demian wasn’t the Hesse novel that made a big impression on me, that was Magister Ludi as the paperback edition I had then called The Glass Bead Game, but it was the first Hesse novel that I read and the one that drew me into becoming a moderately serious Hesse fan.

However, as much as I enjoyed the books, I did not understand the countercultural appeal of Hesse back then. I was too much a child of the 80s to grasp why Demian and Steppenwolf were so significant to the hippies and the other counterculturals who laid the groundwork for today’s SJWs, most of whom wouldn’t know Hermann Hesse from Rudolf Hess.

But I was reading Demian at the gym yesterday, and besides developing a newfound respect for James Franco, who wrote a rather amusing introduction to it, I began to understand both that historic countercultural appeal as well as the depth of literally Satanic evil intrinsic to the quasi-Gnostic philosophy expressed in the book. This passage, in particular, caught my attention:

Then, at that moment, a memory flashed up within me that almost took my breath away: on that ill-starred evening when my misery had begun, that moment with my father when I had, so to speak, seen right through him and his bright clean world and wisdom, and despised them! Yes, I had imagined on my own that I was Cain and bore the mark, and that the mark was not a disgrace but a badge of honor; I had felt that my wicked misdeed made me superior to my father, higher than the good and pious people in his world.

It’s not that I had thought it all through, clearly and analytically, at the time; it was just an emotion flaring up, strange stirrings that hurt me but at the same time filled me with pride. Yet all these ideas were contained in the feeling I’d had.

When I thought about how oddly Demian had spoken of the fearless tribe and the cowards, how strange his interpretation was of the mark on Cain’s forehead, and how marvelously his eyes, his peculiar, grown-up eyes, had lit up when he spoke, the vague thought passed through my mind: This Demian, is he not himself a kind of Cain? Why else would he defend Cain, if he didn’t feel like him? Why does he have such power in his eyes, and why does he speak so scornfully about the “others,” the fearful ones, who after all are actually pious and pleasing to God?

What can be more appealing to young men and women of little accomplishment than the idea that they are the chosen ones, that they are superior by virtue of their weakness and uselessness? What could better suit that collection of worthless parasites than an excuse to take pride in their barbaric rejection of constructive, civilized society? Sinclair’s misdeed was based on pure cowardice, and yet on the basis of nothing more than Demian’s baseless reinterpretation of the Cain story, his multi-faceted cowardice is transformed into heroism, even into a form of demi-godhood!

I didn’t understand this when I was 15. I took the concept of the “fearless ones” at face value, although fortunately I was not foolish enough to take the philosophy behind it seriously. I haven’t finished re-reading the book yet, but what I’m seeing is that Demian represents a proto-SJW perspective, although one that is considerably more educated and self-aware than modern SJWs because it is shaped in reaction to traditional Western culture and is therefore fully aware of what today’s SJWs do not know.

Hesse moved beyond this juvenile, reactionary, and self-deluded gnosticism in both Siddhartha and The Glass Bead Game, but the counterculture never did, not even when it became the popular culture. And if the philosophy is considerably more evil than I recalled, I have to say that the writing is even deeper and more insightful than I remembered.

It’s somewhat remarkable that a man capable of seeing so deeply into his own soul should then go so far afield philosophically, but then, perception is not analysis.