Sagittarius Granorum

The Irish, Scottish and the Norwegians are the most tragic races in the world. The Japanese are in a wholly distinct category.

The simplest, most universally acceptible, arguement against the nationalists is that the very same beaurocratic men of machined matter which is now engaged in a socio-economic scheme of replacement migration in most Western European countries, are the selfsame ones that invented the nation-state as a concept in the first place. The grandsons of the very class of bourgeois beaurocracy which established their precious republican states - in spirit if not in practice - in the first place, did and do not need a jewish paymaster to flood the nation with "economic assets" and completely dependent, endebted, voters.

The Vendee is among our only reliable images.

"These various definitions are by no means directed at men solely: for women I will set up these same goals. Any woman willing to mark my advice shall know where to bestow her praise and honors, and, accordingly, on whom to bestow her love and respect, so that she will not rue the giving of her purity and devotion. I pray to God that good women may follow the proper mean. Modesty is a capstone over all virtues; I need not wish them anything better than that. She who is false shall win false praise. How durable is thin ice that gets the hot August sun? Lust so quickly will her renown decay. Many a woman’s beauty is praised afar, but if the heart within is counterfeit, I would praise her as I would praise a stone of blue glass set in gold. I count it no trifling thing if someone mounts a noble ruby, with all its magic virtue, in paltry brass. To such a jewel I liken a faithful woman’s way. Any one true to her womanhood I will not examine as to her complexion or the heart’s external roof, for if she is well protected within her heart, her praise will not be paid amiss." - Book I of Wolfram von Eschenbach's Parzival. The most ancient of secrets: the virtue of plain women. (I do of course realize that the good ritter's words carry significantly more weight than that.)

Be the Reaktion the liberals fear.

In particular, it is the belief in a materialistic-societal idea of "world progress" which animates some of the monsterousities we witness today. What was at first held with naive and innocent hope by some of the earliest thinkers of the enlightenment, turned at first to obsession with the Hegelians and then into a truly ugly, nihilistic form of spite around the late 1800s. Like a woman spurned by her lover, these poor souls, abused by their worship of fickle Lady Fortune's Favour, clinging to a flase promise of Earthly Paradise, will stop at nothing - absolutely nothing - to avoid seeing these three centuries of their precious progress be overturned in a mere three decades, and with that the hammer blow to their golden calf. All this monsterous effort, all of it to maintain the cult of the machine of dust and sugar. (I emphasised "-societal", because of course this is an aspect of the political.)

"The [warrior-]prince accordingly is the minister of the common interest and the bond-servant of equity, and he bears the public person in the sense that he punishes the wrongs and injuries of all, and all crimes, with even-handed equity. His rod and staff also, administered with wise moderation, restore irregularities and false departures to the straight path of equity, so that deservedly may the Spirit congratulate the power of the prince with the words, 'Thy rod and thy staff, they have comforted me.' [Psalm 23:4] His shield, too, is strong, but it is a shield for the protection of the weak, and one which wards off powerfully the darts of the wicked from the innocent. Those who derive the greatest advantage from his performance of the duties of his office are those who can do least for themselves, and his power is chiefly exercised against those who desire to do harm. Therefore not without reason he bears a sword, wherewith he sheds blood blamelessly, without becoming thereby a man of blood, and frequently puts men to death without incurring the name or guilt of homicide." - The Davidic Ethic as described by John of Salisbury.

11. And it was Roland the King's Friend, he was in great peril, «God, oh God, oh Mother Mary, they're pyring the sword from my hands!» Unclear as it is what exactly this is supposed to refer to, given the rather fragmentary nature of the ballad material, it likely has some connection to the early proto-chivalry ideal or preudomme of Hardiness, seeing as what preceedes this scene is precisely multiple examples of Roland killing heathens like "rye before the scythe", and a rather grusome detailing of how "the sun could not shine, because of the smoke rising from the blood of men."

23. Home did the great king [Charlemagne] come and they were all sat in red, he had full bags of silver and gold and all the heathens were dead. 24. "But why do you sit there drunk in silience and not in mirth? have you in the house of the dead laid out many good men?" 25. "You will not, o Queen, wonder at our conduct, for while we have gained the victory, the same has cost us Roland, the King's Friend and thereto many a valiant swain." A traditional end to the ballad of Roland and the Great King as it was recorded in the mid 1800s in the Upper Thelemark.

The encapsulation of the feeling of the conservative man would be a picture in the style of "Wanderer above the Sea of Fog" by C. D. Friedrich. However, instead of the soft sublimity of a bourgeois adventurer on his daily walk into the mountains, it depicts a wounded shepherd turned soldier, fleeing with his lord, Prince Charles E. Stuart, from the battle of Culloden. He is looking over his shoulder as he rides off, looking one last time towards the distant battlefield where red-coated ants are now piling the slaugthered mass of highland warriors on mass funeral pyres. The scene is painted by the very same C. D. Friedrich, but in that instant possessed by the ghost of H. Bosch.

The drying up of any body of water larger than a puddle is to me what the injury and felling of trees was to Tolkien.

"It is the dead, not the living, who make the longest demands." The will to power as the longest demands of reason.

Of the French Revolution Nietzsche says that Napoleon is its justification. Of Homer, that he is the fatality of Hellenism, he is the great destroyer, but also the father of Pan-Hellinism. One has to wonder why such a rule does not apply to Christ.

We need today to free ourselves from the iron grip of this dehumanizing scientistic dogma. We need to rediscover the fullness of the corporeal world, replete with substantial forms and real qualities, and harboring deep within itself the mystery of what St. Thomas calls "the most profound element in all things." We have need of this discovery in every domain of life, including the scientific; but most especially, we have need of it in the spiritual domain. The fullness of the Christian life, in particular, demands a sacramental capacity on the part of matter which is totally inconceivable in terms of a reductionist ontology. There is no room for the Christian mysteries in a universe made up simply of fundamental particles. The deeper truths of religion have thus become unthinkable for us. In the final count, we know neither man nor the universe, because neither can be comprehended in separation from God; 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩, said Christ. To postulate, as we have, a self-existent universe productive of man, is to beget an illusion. Like the prisoners in Plato's cave, we are thenceforth confined to an illusory world, constrained to gaze upon a realm of shadows. Now, I surmise that of all the true philosophies—and I believe there are more than one—the Thomistic may be for us the safest and most efficacious means by which to effect the liberating intellectual rectification. Whosoever has sensed that "love is the unfathomable source of all causation" has already broken the chains; and whoever has grasped, even dimly, what St. Thomas terms the act-of-being, is well on his way. — Wolfgang Smith, The Wisdom of Ancient Cosmology

History will remember me as the black turk who hung Holdberg from a pine tree and strangled Lucretius with his own Natura.

Chat has been reopened. https://t.me/SagGranChat

Arthur Schopenhauer on popular literature

"Three kings rode out on the road to hell, and ravens rode on the gale. The night wind rang like an iron bell, and hissed with sleet and hail. Three kings rode out where the night wind runs, out onto death’s highway: The king of the Britons, the king of the Huns, the king of Norroway. The king of the Britons was crowned with gold, and rode a stallion white. Saying: 'All men go when they are told, but I go not in fright. A godly king who loved his folk and guarded them with his rod, And fire and gallows against themselves, will surely go to God.' The king of the Huns was crowned with steel, and rode a stallion red. Saying: 'Proud must my father’s spirit feel of me who crowned my head Halfway across a world in pain, which mightily I did win. So now I go home to my father’s fane, and not to the evil Djinn.' The king of Norway was crowned with wings, and rode a stallion gray. Saying: 'High and lustily my heart sings, for Odin guests me today. I died in bed, aye, but I hung full many a screaming thrall On Odin’s tree, with runes on tongue, so now I go to his hall.' Three kings rode out on the road to hell, and the bloody-breasted hound Bayed where the darkening waters fell icy beneath the ground. Three kings a final judgment won from the High Gods’ lips that day: The Devil took the Briton, the Djinn took the Hun, and Hela took Norroway." – Leslie Fish 🇺🇸 | The Ballad of the Three Kings 🎵

>"Carless Gallant" Typo... or not?

The Careless Gallant's Farewell To Sorrow, a mid-17th century song.