Green Beans

What is love? Is it simply a chemical imbalance in the brain? Is it infatuation?

Compadres, love is so much more…

I have loved many women: Silvia, Josefina, Teresa, Leticia, Evita, Alejandra, Gabriela, Rosa, Araceli, Margarita, Maria, Adora, Adriana, Esmeralda, Jacinta, Tequila, Jesusa, Maricela, Ana, Paca, Dominga, Prozalda, Jonweldi, Vigilia, Fallita, Aania, Nestabeardia, Tralfandra, Lupercalia, and many more who I can’t recall. Each one of them held my being as if it was their own. My soul was entwined with all of them.

A strong Latino man is complete with his weaker female counterpart, and there were innumerable wondrous counterparts. I penetrated their hearts like Zorro’s truculent blade of love. To say that I was a Don Juan is understatement. There was no Latina skirt left impermeable from my machismo. They flocked to me. They yearned for me.

However, the void that I felt deep down wasn’t satisfied. Latina women weren’t cutting it anymore. I needed someone better to share my heart with. Someone who could appease my insatiable virility.

Drawing my memory back into childhood I remembered an image on Telemundo. Such graceful beauty, unmatched in contrast to Latinas… Then my neurotransmitters jolted and I spoke her concupiscent name: Alison Doody! Oh, how my heart raced whenever Indiana Jones was on Telemundo. Such Irish flair and friskiness! I required an Irish woman pronto to deflower with my virile salsa.

If you think about it, the Irish and Latinos are very similar aside from pigmentation. Both have large religious families, enough income from labor to put food on the table, and grande livers to consume large quantities of Corona/Guinness! The perfect match!

Compadres, go forth and make green beans! Miscegenate with the Irish!


Winds of Fate

“Evidence” is a leftist plot to subvert natural hierarchy amongst intellectual masters. Rather than recognizing that correctness, like intelligence, is an inborn and thus hereditary trait; modernity seeks to legitimize the constantly-unbalanced search for truth that so characterizes this stage of the Kali-Yuga.

Unlike (leftist) academia, the Right knows that truth can never be found in the bottom of a test tube, nor in any other form of empirical observation. If a person is capable of perceiving correctness, then such an individual becomes a Correct One whose ability to mentally pierce the veil between this material plane and a higher firmament is beyond reproach. Such individuals must automatically assume authority over the confused masses and guide them to an understanding of eternal truths, lest they become lost in the constructions of their abstractions.

By asking for “evidence”, the leftist reveals the dolorous flaw in his soul: an inability to intuitively comprehend the unshakable and perennial laws that govern this strata of existence; as above, so below. Just as he cannot understand truths outside of his conception, he will never reach a proper understanding of his place within the intellectual hierarchy; and must, for the sake of all our fates, be restrained from further damaging the erstwhile ascendancy of Western conservative thought.

Gun Control? Ban Them Instead

Firearms are for gutless cowards who are too puerile to watch the life leave their opponents from the whites of their eyes. In greater times, combat was  the domain of men, it required tact, upper body strength and a spine. Warriors of the past reveled in the  stench of victory, the smell of blood drenched iron and steel.

The cowardice of modern combat disgusts me. “Besting” an opponent from a distance. Bombing him from the air. It is no wonder females have entered the military across the west. War, despite producing body counts, is all but pacified, steralized and stripped of meaning and opportunities for spiritual growth.

When I see an image of a soldier holding his rifle and dressed in camouflage, I see the image of a weakling. He hides in his environment from the enemy and suprises him with sudden death courtesy of a bullet shot from yards away. How can such individuals be called warriors?

The men and woman serving in contemporary armies are not heroes, they are only murderers. These hordes of wimpanzees take pleasure in killing after conditioned into drones after months of what passes as training – acquisition of cosmetic muscles and crowd conformity. True Warriors do not take pleasure in taking life they do what they must, what ones duty requires. The battle and battle field itself is a microcosm of Reality – this is what a hero craves. The gun-clingers crave only to end life, because they hate themselves, civilization and Reality.

Relinquish your rifles and begin the cessation of worship at the altar of lead and powder. The image of a soldier is a graven one, burn it. Handguns belong in the heaps. Gun owners may as well cut off their phalluses and undergo female hormone therapy. Each round fired is emasculation. I leave you with an image of a true warrior and hero upon which to meditate and emulate:


Homo Correctus

Evolution, what it is? It is the mechanism by which organisms attain improvement. Natural selection is the method nature uses to separate the genetic wheat from the chaff.

The human race, under the malignant tutelage of Liberalism, has rejected these methods for self improvement and lowered itself beneath even ratkind. Choosing instead to scurry about urban centers, not unlike rats, aimless and blissfully immune to natural selection. He breeds without caution, and consumes without care. The air fills with noxious black fumes not unlike a plague of similar hue which was carried and transmitted by modern man’s likeness during the middle ages.

Once, men were virile and women were pure. They were invaders, conquerors and lovers. Lovers of reality, and of nature. They understood her kindness and thanked God for the gift of hardship; which propelled our species beyond mere subsistence.

Like our ancestors, we too must love nature and love her laws. 6,000 years is a drop in the bucket and a glimpse of how far we might go. We must embrace natural selection and rid our race of the deficient, diseased and dishonest. Reality is the most harsh judge yet is kind and nurturing to those who pass her rigorous trials.

Liberals are those who do not love their fate and struggle vainly to inoculate themselves with Rights, Redistribution and all manner of subsidy. They are safety seekers and comfort slaves. Heraclitus tells us that life is power. The Liberal seeks to make that power defuse to disarm the strong, to draw and quarter reality. It is no surprise that human evolution ceased in 1776 with a rejection of the power rightfully consolidated in the hands of the deserving few – The Royalty and the Nobility.

The result is a human being who will never achieve a more pure vision of reality. A human who puts thinking before being. A human who puts desire before accuracy. The Right embraces evolution because it seeks a better human being. The Right embraces the lessons of history transmitted by Tradition. The Right embraces life and leads the way to the next phases of human evolution. Let us embrace evolution and natural selection as the way to the Correct Man.

What will it be, dear reader, Viking or Vassal?

Which Way Western Amigo?

A great ditch entrenches our hearts, a ditch where our vitality is pushed to the wayside. This ditch was created by the Left to smother our potent fires.

The lowest common denominator as a means for survival has been ingrained into our society.

Where does true greatness dwell? Not publicly here. Not publicly now. Not publicly in these times.

When we scrape at the bottom of the barrel, we’re just left with gunk; crud and residue from something that once was. Something which had purpose.

I ask you Amigos not as an activist, but as an Amigo, too: which way western Amigo? The fall of our civilization looms over our sombreros.

Do you want the future to be a reign of our dissolution? Or do you want the future to be a brilliant bright star? Starlight in which no opaque fog from the Left can stop?

Amigos, the starlight has been within you all along.

Spoiled, the Burrito is, After Liberals Touch It

Last night I was drinking Corona while pondering the Cosmos. I brainfuck myself by chasing abstractions sometimes. It’s true that our abstracted headspaces are more beautiful than the world around us, nerve impulses from divinity itself. But, there must be a line drawn on the piña colada glass so you don’t indulge too much; rules to enforce limitations for the Bueno. You know, so you don’t go completely loco and convince yourself of unreality being reality.

Liberals have convinced themselves that their delusions are true. They all want the burrito but there’s not enough burrito to go around. They want to eat it without harvesting fresh ingredients for the next batch of burritos. They want the refried reward without doing the work to earn it. They just consume and consume… if they were left to their own devices they’d degrade the quality of burritos until it’s all refried mush. Nobody will have tasty burritos. Then they will move onto fajitas and spoil those too.

All Liberals must be squelched to save the quality of the burrito!