“For our generation walks as in Hades, without the divine.”
~ Friedrich Hölderlin

"I am not the great thinker of the age. I am its sacrifice."
Every last man, think this.

A most intriguing look into Aryan myth and initiation through the symbol of the sword. Specifically in this video Schwerpunkt looks into commonalities between the Germanic and Scythian-Turkic-Hunnic cultures and how, when they met in continental Europe during the Migration Era, a certain spiritual current was rekindled that contributed to the development of the Mystery of the Grail and the rise of the chivalrous Middle Ages.

💥📚 New Book-Review!

The Germanization of Early Medieval Christianity by James C. Russel

🔹Indo-European Religion vs Christianity
🔸The Power of the Christian God
🔹The Christian Pantheon
🔸The Germanisation of Christianity
🔹The Christianity of the Middle Ages
🔸Religiocultural View of War
🔹The Situation in Greece and Rome
🔸Conclusion

📖 Read the review here: https://thegoldenone.se/2023/02/05/the-germanization-of-early-medieval-christianity/

"Thus we may speak of a state of an involutive latency of the Nordic tradition. But as soon as contact with Christianity and with the symbol of Rome occurred, a different condition ensued; this contact had a galvanizing effect. In spite of everything, Christianity revived the generic sense of a supernatural transcendence. The Roman symbol offered the idea of a universal regnum, of an aeternitas carried by an imperial power. All this integrated the Nordic substance and provided superior reference points to its warrior ethos, so much as to gradually usher in one of those cycles of restoration that I have labeled 'heroic' in a special sense. And so, from the type of the mere warrior the figure of the knight arose; the ancient Germanic traditions of war waged in function of Valhalla developed into the supranational epic of the 'holy war' or crusade; a shift occurred from the type of the prince of a particular race to the type of the sacred and ecumenical emperor, who claimed that the principle of his power had a character and an origin no less supernatural and transcendent than that of the Church.

This true renaissance, however, this grandiose development and wonderful transformation of forces, required an ultimate reference point, a supreme center of crystallization higher than the Christian though Romanized ideal, and higher than the external and merely political idea of the Empire. This supreme point of integration was manifested precisely in the myth of the Grail's regality, according to the intimate relation it had with the several variations of the 'imperial saga.' The silent problem of the Ghibelline Middle Ages was expressed in the fundamental theme of that cycle of legends: the need for a hero of the two swords, who overcomes natural and supernatural tests, to really ask the question: the question that avenges and heals, the question that restores power to its regality.

The Middle Ages awaited the hero of the Grail, so that the head of the Holy Roman Empire could become an image or a manifestation of the Universal Ruler; so that all the forces could receive a new power; so that the Dry Tree could blossom again; so that an absolute driving force could arise to overcome any usurpation, antagonism, laceration; so that a real solar order could be formed; so that the invisible emperor could also be the manifest one; and finally, so that the 'Middle Age' (medium aeveum) could also have the meaning of an 'Age of the Center.'"

- Julius Evola, The Mystery of the Grail

By god, Socrates, I'll tell you exactly what I think [of getting old]. A number of us, who are more or less the same age, often get together in accordance with the old saying ["God ever draws together like to like"]. When we meet, the majority complain about the lost pleasures they remember from their youth, those of sex, drinking parties, feasts, and the other things that go along with them, and they get angry as if they had been deprived of important things and had lived well then but are now hardly living at all. Some others moan about the abuse heaped on old people by their relatives, and because of this they repeat over and over that old age is the cause of many evils. But I don't think they blame the real cause, Socrates, for if old age were really the cause, I should have suffered in the same way and so should everyone else of my age. But as it is, I've met some who don't feel like that in the least. Indeed, I was once present when someone asked the poet Sophocles: "How are you as far as sex goes, Sophocles? Can you still make love with a woman?" "Quiet, man," the poet replied, "I am very glad to have escaped from all that, like a slave who has escaped from a savage and tyrannical master." I thought at the time that he was right, and I still do, for old age brings peace and freedom from all such things. When the appetites relax and cease to importune us, everything Sophocles said comes to pass, and we escape from many mad masters. In these matters and in those concerning relatives, the real cause isn't old age, Socrates, but the way people live. If they are moderate and contented, old age, too, is only moderately onerous; if they aren't, both old age and youth are hard to bear.

Plato, Republic 329a-d

This is true for Empire as well. The height of Rome for instance was during the Pax Romana, the era of great Imperial order beginning with the reign of Caesar Augustus until the end of Marcus Aurelius'. Youth may be an idealistic state, but the result of a good youth is that later, in maturity, the ideal is actualized.

Nowhere does truth appear with such brutality as in war and justice. In the face of such overwhelming force the individual is cut out from being, divided from the simple movement of himself. The will is driven out into the elements.
In war, there are marching songs, drumming which gives order to thunder – certainty and direction are formed over and above the will, so that it does not separate from itself too early. Then, at that very moment of the highest decision, the music gives way to silence – an order appears before which no artistic understanding can express itself. Only fate and judgement remain. The will experiences its second death.
If truth wants to be known, one's perspective will be shaken to the core with the utmost violence, until this violence becomes the entirety of the world, until one is but a fissure within a storm, an earthquake, a collapsing mountain. A slow erosion may be the most forceful of all judgements. This is the essence of tragedy and apocalypse – the world is reversed, the brutal decision of law imposes itself upon all men until the final perspective can hold out. It is uprooted, freed.
Nemesis – behind her, the earth a spectre.