“Of all the rewards that virtue brings, the greatest is glory. It is this alone which makes up for the shortness of our lives through the recollections of future generations. It enables us although absent to be present, and although dead to live. In short, it is this which provides the steps by which men may seem to climb as high as gods.” —Cicero in one of his defence speeches
Forwarded from Zentropa
« Qui a peur de la mort? Personne, ce serait inconvenant. Au contraire, il est de bon ton de la défier constamment, jusqu'au bout, mais sans outrecuidance ni forfanterie, le plus simplement du monde, comme si c'était chose sans importance, pas plus que de retourner une mauvaise carte au whist. Le courage étant la quintessence évidente de la vertu à éperons. Ce courage a été fabriqué pendant des siècles. C'est un legs des ancêtres maréchaux ou colonels et, tel qu'il est, il entre de soi dans cet univers du rituel et de l'étiquette qu'est l'Armée. »
Lucien Bodard
Lucien Bodard
Forwarded from Diary of an Underground Ronin
“Men ought either to be well treated or crushed, because they can avenge themselves of lighter injuries, of more serious ones they cannot; therefore the injury that is to be done to a man ought to be of such a kind that one does not stand in fear of revenge.”
— Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince
— Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince
Forwarded from Diary of an Underground Ronin
"And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!"
— Rudyard Kipling
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!"
— Rudyard Kipling
Forwarded from Halls of the Hyperboreads
Rome was built in a day. One day there was no Rome, then the next Romulus son of Mars founded his sacred city. Destiny was made manifest and an empire was born, all because on one fateful day one hero made one resolute action.
“All night we talk of this object. How much farther can it be? Beyond the Ganges, that we know. But how distant is that? No guide can tell us. I cannot overstate how this excites me. To stand where no man of the West has stood before! To behold that which none has seen! And forever to be the first!
Do you think me vain or self-inflated? Consider: What has almighty Zeus portioned out for man, save this earth? Heaven He has kept for Himself. But this sphere here, beneath this sky, we mortals may roam with naught to hem us but our own will and imagination.
I can see Earth’s Limit. It shines before my inner eye like a city of crystal, though I know, when I reach there, it will be but a shingly strand beneath an alien sky. No matter. It is Earth’s Ultimate, of which not Heracles or Perseus have dreamt, but only I.
What will I seize when at last I stand upon that shore? Nothing. I shall not even bend to pick up a stone or shell, but only clasp my mates’ hands and gaze with them upon the Eastern Ocean.
That is what I want.
That is all I want.”
—The Virtues of War by Steven Pressfield
Do you think me vain or self-inflated? Consider: What has almighty Zeus portioned out for man, save this earth? Heaven He has kept for Himself. But this sphere here, beneath this sky, we mortals may roam with naught to hem us but our own will and imagination.
I can see Earth’s Limit. It shines before my inner eye like a city of crystal, though I know, when I reach there, it will be but a shingly strand beneath an alien sky. No matter. It is Earth’s Ultimate, of which not Heracles or Perseus have dreamt, but only I.
What will I seize when at last I stand upon that shore? Nothing. I shall not even bend to pick up a stone or shell, but only clasp my mates’ hands and gaze with them upon the Eastern Ocean.
That is what I want.
That is all I want.”
—The Virtues of War by Steven Pressfield
Forwarded from Halls of the Hyperboreads
Beyond the Aryan-Mediterranean civilization of the West there is another which shares the Aryan root but with a very different Eastern aspect. The homeland of this Aryan-Mongolian culture is the vast central Asian steppe and great Siberia to its north; East Asia, though related to this Mongolian element, is distinct. While one may note shared 'Hyperborean' characteristics in the Aryan descendents of East and West there is something entirely absent in the East: the Atlantean-Mediterranean civilizational aspect. What lies in its place to add to the Aryan is something primordial, something distinctly anti-civilizational. Here it also differentiates itself from the far East Asians and their civilization.
This is the smoke from the smoldering embers of ancient Solar Hyperborea; a remnant of mammoth hunter ethos/genos. Recently the Steppe has acted as a battleground between East and West, but before that we find there the Great Polar North; the origin of the spirits of both East and West as we know them today.
This is the smoke from the smoldering embers of ancient Solar Hyperborea; a remnant of mammoth hunter ethos/genos. Recently the Steppe has acted as a battleground between East and West, but before that we find there the Great Polar North; the origin of the spirits of both East and West as we know them today.
Forwarded from Halls of the Hyperboreads
The Steppe is second only to the Civilization of the Reindeer in bearing the torch of Hyperborean legacy. It is no mistake that its endless plains birthed the Aryans. Like Attila and Ghenghis Khan before him, what Ungern sought to do was carry out the next step of the eternal cycle of East vs. West, to bring about another War of the Aryans. It is inevitable that the Rising Sun will bring dawn again to the decadent West, forcing it to rise up to excellence in martial necessity.
Forwarded from Der Schattige Wald 🇬🇱
"The fact is that there is no species aeternitatis. And not fortuitously. What there is, is the real, what composes destiny. And the real is never species, aspect, spectacle, an object of contemplation. All that is precisely the unreal. It is our idea, not our being. Europe needs to cure itself of its “Idealism”—which is also the only way to overcome all materialism, positivism, utopism. Ideas are always too close to our whim, are obedient to it—they are always revocable. We have, no doubt, increasingly to live with ideas—but we must stop living from our ideas and learn to live from our inexorable, irrevocable destiny. Our destiny must determine our ideas, and not vice versa. Primitive man was lost in the world of things, there in the forest; we are lost in a world of ideas which show us existence as a cupboard full of equivalent possibilities, of things comparatively indifferent, of Ziemlichgleichgültigkeiten. (Our ideas—that is, culture. The present crisis is less a crisis of culture than of the position we have given to culture. We have set it before and above life, when it ought to be behind and below life—because it is a reaction to life. We must now stop putting the cart before the horse.)"
~ José Ortega y Gasset
~ José Ortega y Gasset