The West has not been living naturally or rooted in reality for a very long time. Certainly almost all of my life.
I have always been acutely aware of this since childhood, because growing up in Africa from the early 70s and to a lesser extent rural Italy too, the distinction between necessary and desired, required and optional, possibile and difficult, and very, very, hard and impossible, along with the value of honour, courage and fear when the stakes are literally life and death.
Someone who has never hunted his food, built things with simple tools, learnt how to survive in the wild, and, even more importantly, taught his children to do it, cannot possibly understand the context, nor the importance of why such things translate into all sorts of everyday situations.
The mind games of office politics become wholly irrelevant to someone who has had people trying to punch him in the face almost daily for over a year and then periodically over many years. Or who went to work armed and not knowing what he would face, or hunting in places where the game and the environment itself have a real chance of killing you.
More importantly, living your days and nights with your family, you begin to see the absolute artificial state that the 9 to 5 grind —which often means 7 to 8— really is.
And even if, like me, your original family is scattered to the four winds, and you need to build your own and make it large, you begin to see the necessity, the absolute power of generations of your line building together.
It is, of course, impossible for any man to guide the path of his progeny, even while alive it is difficult, but after you are dead, certainly even more so.
My own line is somewhat of a miracle, for we come from a long, long, long, line of wild adventurers who had fast reflexes and quick minds more than wisdom. Frankly, we have been the continuation of merely one male son for at least three generations before my father. My brother and I too have one son a piece, and my half-brother another. So he has at least tripled the chances of our line continuing on and both my brother and I certainly have not inherited much wisdom either. Our ways are to survive the world, driven by a fire inside that does not care anything much for the world at all.
It is hard to survive the world without caring for it at all when weighed against your own internal compass. Hard in the sense that life will tend to be harder from a practical point of view, but compared to not having that internal compass, it is a joy. A simple walk along a pristine beach in excellent weather.
It is unfathomable to me how men without that inner fire pass their days. How do they face the mirror? Sleep at night? What do they dream of? What are their deepest hopes?
It is not with contempt that you realise that indeed, most of the world is composed of NPCs, but rather with sadness. What a world it would be if men were not cowards and refused the snivelling wormtongues that rule over their betters by deceit and lies and subterfuge and blackmail and all things corrupt and vile.
Can you even begin to imagine it?
Or do you think that being ruled by the Bill Gates, Epsteins, Rothchilds, Schwabs, Soros and their pudgy, soft, pedophile puppets IS the natural order of things?
Well?
Do you?
I do think this to be the natural order of this fallen world. It’s definitely not what man was designed for, but it’s what we get as a consequence of our corruption. We are told, repeatedly, that the way is narrow and hard.
The way is narrow and hard only because most are afraid to act as they know they should.