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
Forwarded from Aureus' Sylvan Bush-Arcadia
I am a legend in my own mind and in reality.
Forwarded from Αρυολογία☀️ (The Indo-Europeans)
Toil and risk are the price of glory, but it is a lovely thing to live with courage and die leaving an everlasting fame.
— Alexander the Great
#AryanProverbs
— Alexander the Great
#AryanProverbs
Forwarded from Censored Men
This idea came to me in a dream last night: road trip with a hauling truck to Afghanistan and back to buy an Soviet abandoned tank and sell it to a collector.
@RealLordMiles
@RealLordMiles
“My mother said
That I should buy
A barque with beautiful oars
To go forth with vikings.
Stand up in the stern,
Steer a shining vessel,
Set a course for a haven,
Hew down many foemen.”
—Egil’s Saga
That I should buy
A barque with beautiful oars
To go forth with vikings.
Stand up in the stern,
Steer a shining vessel,
Set a course for a haven,
Hew down many foemen.”
—Egil’s Saga