I Live Again!
Lent is now well and truly behind us, and now we look forwards among other things the Feast of Saint John the Baptist and also the Feast of the King Saint Olaf. The weather is warmer, and the days longer.

I have decided that once again things will change, though this time only a few things have been overturned completely. Globus Cruciger has arrived dead on arrival, the substack that was to carry that name has now been renamed "Leidangen" after the form of military organization known to the old Norwegian realm and its people. I also wish to inform you that this channel is now going to host primarily shortform content of a much more private nature. Most if not all forms of long, in-depth content will from now on be found at either my substack or my youtube, the links to which you can now find in the denoscription.

I wish to end this message with a simple hope that this year so far has been fruitful. As always; God bless you all, sommer is soon upon us.

Olav's Return.

One of the lessons of the mythical world is that there is no certainty in destruction, 'the abandoned altars give birth to demons.' Defeated men, defeated lands may live on, haunt us or erupt in a curse. We see this in the myth of Cadmus and the old practise of salting the earth – the enemy persists in the soil. When the nomos is defeated the autochthonous forces are released.

We can assume liberalism has its own powers in this regard, the death of Rousseau's solitary walker lives on in other ways – the monarchomachs persist most strongly in the lands in which monarchy and even royalism have been eliminated. It is to be expected that the defeat of liberalism in the West will not remove its underlying forces, we see this already occurring. Forces will continue to erupt around the world from liberal myths, and perhaps the greater danger is democratic man himself, the Bronze- and Iron-souled figure who levels the earth in his own image. Deprived of the myth he will feed on carrion. What ends in our time may only be the beginning for another land, then the wind may shift towards us.

Dead men live on in dragon's teeth, their forces may be sowed at any time. We should remember that liberalism conquered most of the world, with gigantic altars that remain unknown even today. One should be prepared to face impossible monsters and demons.

https://news.1rj.ru/str/ImperiumPressOfficial/1760

If you won't move into the Content House on Aarvoll's land with 7 other young men, stop virtue signaling about praxis and taking action.

https://youtu.be/SA9Rr8MUfMg

Don't you hear the stirring from the deep,
From the cold, dark cells under peaks so steep?
The prisoners have found the chains are gone,
Now who will it be to seize the new dawn?
The old ones have lost their vigor and light,
The older still rise again in the night!

As little flowers,
which the chill of night has bent and huddled,
when the white sun strikes,
grow straight and open fully on their stems,

so did I, too, with my exhausted force;
and such warm daring rushed into my heart
that I—as one who has been freed—began.’

- Dante

Either life is a liturgical repetition, a continual affirmation of creation’s goodness, or it is Sisyphus pushing his boulder up the hill.

The key concept of Jünger’s theory is Gestalt; by this, he means a whole that includes something greater than the sum of its parts.

A person is greater than the sum of atoms, a family is greater than the union of a man and a woman, and a nation is greater than the sum of citizens living in the same territory.

All human history is a struggle of Gestalts. Jünger claims that ‘man, as a Gestalt, belongs to eternity’.

"My garden gives me more certainty than any philosophical system."
~ Ernst Jünger

One can toil in the realm of words endlessly to no end, but an afternoon tending one's tiny patch of the realm of Life is invaluable.

The respite of a taste of autumn amidst the sweltering summer—midsummer's winter.
The refreshment the salt of the earth grants the mountain steam—earthern water.
The holy man who realizes justice will only be brought by his own hands—warrior in the priest.
The man who allows himself to be enraptured and forever molded by a work of art—femininity in masculinity.
The outlaw who turns on his own when they commit truly evil acts—Olympianism in Titanism.
The lightning bolt of glory flashing in the darkness of modernity— Golden Age within the Kali Yuga.

The greatness of these fleeting moments are harmonies within the eternally churning alchemal operations of Nature, and all of them are lost when one is blinded by compartmentalized and dichotomous thinking. How could one perform the Great Work without first performing the lowest works? How could one stand as a king before God without first being a peasant before the world?

The channel has been created. It bears the generic and probably WIP name of "Nordic Tolkienist". https://news.1rj.ru/str/NordicTolkienist

The King of Thule (1896) by Pierre Jean van der Ouderaa

There was a king in Thule,
Was faithful till the grave,
To whom his mistress, dying,
A golden goblet gave.

Nought was to him more precious;
He drained it at every bout;
His eyes with tears ran over,
As oft as he drank thereout.

When came his time of dying,
The towns in his land he told,
Nought else to his heir denying
Except the goblet of gold.

He sat at the royal banquet
With his knights of high degree,
In the lofty hall of his fathers
In the castle by the sea.

There stood the old carouser,
And drank the last life-glow;
And hurled the hallowed goblet
Into the tide below.

He saw it plunging and filling,
And sinking deep in the sea:
Then fell his eyelids for ever,
And never more drank he!



Der König in Thule (The King in Thule).
by Goethe (Translated from german by Bayard Taylor)