"[W]hen every gibbet is red with blood; when every bayonet creaks beneath its ghastly burden; when the ground in front of every cannon is strewn with rags, and flesh, and shattered bone-- then talk of mercy. Then you may find some to listen. This is not the time." 1.
Speaker in the first debate of the Oxford Union.
Michaelmas Term, 1857.
Atrocities tend to bring out the worst in people. On Sept. 11, 2001 we witnessed ebullient Muslims cheering the news of the carnage of their fellow religionists, and in the days and weeks, now in the years following, we witness the moral and intellectual squalor of the Left soaking in self-righteous indignation at the subdued wrath of our nation in its tepid actions against the primitive world in its death-throes. We as a nation restrain ourselves to the point of further antagonizing those who attacked us, bringing out further hatred of our effeminacy and effeteness, further hatred of our simpering, posturing, hand-wringing falseness that caused their rage against us to begin with. No one likes to be conquered; but to be conquered by emasculated Modernist males in full-blow drag-queen drama is to enrage to the point of hysterical self-annihilation. The further antics of the drag-queens on the public stage is only further inducement to the masculine Muslim world to kill all in the decadent and humiliating West. The atrocity of 9/11 is our disgusting reaction: not our mad violence but our transvestite application of empathetic make-up to the cynical clown face of the West mincing and smirking at the devastated primitive world. The outrage of 9/11 is in the West not taking the step needed to conquer and to punish and to rule my main and male force those who demand it, as should we. To be patronized further by fools, to patronize those we should have beaten senseless, that is the atrocity. Life demands life: the Modern West returned vital life with low parody of the Metrosexual condescender. Humiliation upon humiliation. Rage demands wrath. We returned with cloying poses of concern, with sentimentality and masochistic moralisms the expected and needed vengeance of men harmed and outraged. We played false to the genuine. "This is not the time." This is the time for violence, reasoned.
"I have heard things said, and seen them written of late, which would make me almost suppose that the religious opinions of the people of [the West] had undergone some sudden change; and that instead of bowing down before the name of Jesus, we were preparing to revive the worship of Moloch."
Benjamin Disraeli. Speech at Newport Pagnell.
September 1857. 2
Disraeli spoke of the sanguinary chatter of the English. He spoke of the realities of retribution in India against those who wantonly slaughtered women and children, against unarmed men. Today he would speak of Moloch turned inward, weeping and wailing and crying in fits of self-righteous masochistic moralism.
Without right Reason guiding Man to practical order in the world of men there will come a time of terrible retribution beyond the nightmares of the nervous. When the lies of the drag queens of moralisms finally sicken even the most placid bourgeois in his quiet study, then will come a time of outrage unrestrained. Then:
"As cruel as covenanters without their faith, as relentless as inquisitors without their fanaticism, these sanguinary creatures, from the safe seclusions of their desks, utter stridulous cries as they plunge their pens into the seething ink, and shout out 'Blood, more blood!' with the unfailing energy and thirst of a Marat or St. Just. 'We want vengeance!' they cry-- 'We must have it full; we care not if it be indiscriminate. We are not Christians now, because we are dealing with those who are not of our faith; rather we are of the faith and followers of him who preached "The study of revenge, immortal hate!"*
William Howard Russel, special correspondent of The Times in India. May 1858. 3.
It will have been seen as a tender mercy had we unleashed our might against the primitives on 9/12/01. Now, friends, you find Marats buried deep in their studies, waiting. There is worse to come. Comes the Terror.
The lie that is moralism in the West is the lie that will bring forth the truth of extermination of the primitives. "We are all guilty!" No, we will all be guilty only after the facts of our studies in revenge are marked. The velvet covered lies of velvet fascism will not cover the shame and the gore of our reality. We have done right, as have our enemies. To smash the rotten beneath the feet of power and to triumph in glory is to raise the hatred of the defeated, and rightly so. Macbeth must kill to be sacrificed for the order to follow. It is the nature of Nature. To pervert the course of Humanity is to waste entirely that which should have been pruned. Nature raised Macbeth, and we, in a bowdlerizing fit of sentimentality, have perverted the plot. Now, rather than sacrifice Macbeth we will exterminate the primitives whole later. For shame. We are all guilty!
"It may also be alleged against us that we have deposed kings and ruined the nobles...; but why should the world sigh over that result? Monarchs who always took wages, but seldom performed the work of governments and aristocrats who looked upon the authority as a personal right, and have never been able to comprehend what is meant by the sovereignty o f the people, are surely better out of the way. No Englishman in these days deplores the wars of the Roses, and would like to see the Cliffords and Warwicks restored again to life. France bears with calmness the loss of her old nobility; Europe at large makes steady contributions to the list of kings out of employment. Had the princess and rajahs of Hindostan been worth conserving, they would have retained their titles and power. The class speedily dies out in the natural course of mortality, and it is not for the benefit of society that it should be renewed." 4.
The Gnostic philistines pose and emote and display their finest falsities in gaudy glamor. 'Imperialism, it's a bad thing,' they weep. The paint runs in deep streaks, and the ugliness beneath is exposed to all who care to view it. Few do. Few can stand to examine closely the pitiful stupidities of the drag queens of moralism. Wrapped in velvet gowns of fascist philobarbarism, they stretch out their hands for cash and grab. "We are all guilty," they whinge, as they strut and simper and lisp, taking and scolding and scowling.
"Array the evil against the acknowledged good; weigh the broken pledges, the ruined families, the impoverished ryots, the imperfect justice, against the missionary and the schoolmaster, the railway and the steam engine, the abolition of suttee and the destruction of Thugs, and declare in which scale the balance lies! For every anna that we have taken from the noble we have returned a rupee to the trader. We have saved more lives in peace than we have sacrificed in war. We have committed many blunders and crimes; wrought evil by premeditation, and good by instinct; but when all is summed up, the award must be in our favour. And with the passing away of the present cloud, there will dawn a brighter day both for England and India. We shall strengthen at the same time our hold upon the soil and upon the hearts of the people; tighten the bonds of conquest and of mutual interest... the ryot lifted by degrees out of his misery, and made to feel that he is a man if not a brother, and everywhere heaven's gifts of climate and circumstance made most of." 5.
Just 150 years ago some few Sepoys rose up against the British in rebellion against imperialism and the loss of native privilege. It is right and just that they did so, as right as a jamb resisting the Spring flood. Those who have will keep what they can and what they may. In the course of time, the lost having lost, others take and do. It was only sixty years ago now that Indians and Pakistanis took charge of their native lands under their own rule independent of the British. Such is right. It is today that Indians act as colonialists of Modernity in India. In 1857 the day was life eternal. One hundred and fifty years later, the past is assimilated, and Modernity rules the waves of grain that feed the nation. India does not mourn the decayed Sepoy. He had his day. His day is done. That jamb is broken and the floe of the future moves on.
In the West we face a histrionic dance of dhimmis in drag emoting. Who is fooled by this foolishness? Mercy demands vengeance rightly conducted with Reason. Instead we find ourselves faced with the strident dramas of falsetto lispers railing against the just, the justice of the primitive's righteous rage and the justice of the powers of Nature moving. India today does not mourn the loss of the old any more than the sweet colonies of Confederate America long for Jefferson Davis' rule. Past is prologue. Even bolts of velvet cannot convincingly cover over the shame of fascist dhimmitude. It is time to sound the horn, to beat the brass. To the charge. The mercy of just war. This is the time.
1. Michael Edwardes, Red Year: The Indian Rebellion of 1857. London: Cardinal; 1975, p. 162
2. ibid: p.162
3. ibid: p. 166.
* John Milton, Paradise Lost. [From Satan's pledge.]
4. Edwardes: p. 158.
5. ibid: p. 158.