Forwarded from Diary of an Underground Ronin
"To lose oneself completely in these distant times, one must be a poet - or a painter - on a late summer day in the south, and a glass of sunny wine in one's head. Then you see these millennia before you, in the middle of a landscape like a fairy tale. If you only ponder them at your desk and strain your poor logic, the glow of these early times will never shine on you."
— Spengler
— Spengler
Forwarded from 🔱 𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐔𝐒 🌲
”And we—we bear loyally what is apportioned unto us, on hard shoulders, over rugged mountains! And when we sweat, then do people say to us: ‘Yea, life is hard to bear!’”
Friedrich Nietzsche | Thus Spake Zarathustra.
Friedrich Nietzsche | Thus Spake Zarathustra.
Forwarded from 🔱 𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐔𝐒 🌲
”Beloved Pan, and all ye other gods who haunt this place, give me beauty in the inward soul; and may the outward and inward be at one. May I esteem the wise alone wealthy, and may I have such abundance of wealth as none but the temperate can carry.”
Plato | Phaedrus: Socrates’ prayer.
Plato | Phaedrus: Socrates’ prayer.
Forwarded from The Apollonian 2
The shaping of reality, and the insight into it, are both therefore intimately related in the vocation of the poet. This visionary quality of the poet’s inspiration, however, has been seen as similar to other types of divine inspiration, and as on a continuum with them. Plato distinguished four types of maníai or frenzy, and the corresponding deities by whom each frenzy was imparted: love, inspired by Aphrodite; poetry, inspired by the Muses; the mysteries, inspired by Dionysos; and prophecy, inspired by Apollon.
The Poet as God-Seducer by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus
The Poet as God-Seducer by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus
Forwarded from 🔱 𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐔𝐒 🌲
”We have become too civilized to grasp the obvious. For the truth is very simple. To survive you often have to fight, and to fight you have to dirty yourself. War is evil, and it is often the lesser evil. Those who take the sword perish by the sword, and those who do not take the sword perish by smelly diseases.”
George Orwell | Looking Back on the Spanish War.
George Orwell | Looking Back on the Spanish War.
Forwarded from 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔸𝕤 𝔽𝕦𝕔𝕜 (Tiger)
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2014 vibes...
Forwarded from RISING RACE
“[In Italy] It was impossible not to resist the Marxist delusions and the mad implementation of these delusions openly and fully on the soil where not only the great Roman Empire but also a new culture and civilization was born over twenty centuries ago. which gave the life of the whole of Europe and beyond its borders a completely new direction, and in the most significant period of history to bear its mark. A period that has not yet ended, and with what characteristic will history be marked for a long, incalculable and unpredictable long time. The land of Cato, Cicero, and Caesar had to give Mussolini.”
— Ante Pavelić
— Ante Pavelić
Forwarded from HOOA
New substack post is up.
“They entered the town in a light rain falling. The horse nickered and snuffed shyly at the hocks of the other animals standing at the stall before the lamplit bagnios they passed. Fiddlemusic issued into the solitary mud street and lean dogs crossed before them shadow to shadow. At the end of the town he led the horse to a rail and tied it among others and stepped up the low wooden stairs into the dim light that fell from the doorway there. He looked back a last time at the street and at the random windowlights let into the darkness and at the last pale light in the west and the low dark hills around. Then he pushed open the door and entered.”
—Cormac McCharthy, Blood Meridian, Chapter XXIII (twenty-three)
https://hooafury.substack.com/p/the-last-pale-light-in-the-west
“They entered the town in a light rain falling. The horse nickered and snuffed shyly at the hocks of the other animals standing at the stall before the lamplit bagnios they passed. Fiddlemusic issued into the solitary mud street and lean dogs crossed before them shadow to shadow. At the end of the town he led the horse to a rail and tied it among others and stepped up the low wooden stairs into the dim light that fell from the doorway there. He looked back a last time at the street and at the random windowlights let into the darkness and at the last pale light in the west and the low dark hills around. Then he pushed open the door and entered.”
—Cormac McCharthy, Blood Meridian, Chapter XXIII (twenty-three)
https://hooafury.substack.com/p/the-last-pale-light-in-the-west
HOOA: Will to Write
The Last Pale Light in The West
Impact and synthesis of Cormac McCharthy's Blood Meridian