by Roman McClay
Christ, as Nietzsche pointed out, was a slave’s god. But the Philosopher had not pointed out why, he thought.
Christ was the highest ideal of the men born of the democracy of sex; of patrimony; of the primogeniture of this new mankind. Christ was the genuinely highest ideal of beta males. He was kind, forgiving, redemptive; he sought elevation of the individual -each containing the light of God equally- and the ramification of the equality of man.
All were equal before God, Christ had said, and this mode of being was what pulsed in the low-iron blood of weak men made so by the lack of vigilance of the kings of yore. The ancient kings had failed to prevent such men from breeding , Isaiah thought as the taxonomic, genetic and religious texts all layered like thin, translucent leaves of the Bible itself on his mind.
Thousands and thousands of pages of data showed him that when the great kingdoms from the steppe, or Sumeria, or the levant, collapsed sufficiently to allow beta male breeding to increase exponentially, that then the God that sprang forth after millennia of the marital gods from Mars to YHWY -by then- this usurper, this lamb of God, this gentle Jesus, meek and mild was by then truly the highest ideal of such men.
Men, Isaiah thought, made of weak genes, began to need a forgiving god, and that new religion spread as slavery spread. As the old kingdoms failed, the great men were subsumed by greedy men that bred slaves for money, tawdry commerce and corrupt dealings to lighten their own loa d . They grew fat on the labor of other men. Fiat currency and slavery bloomed as the imperial nations grew like fat ticks on the diseased blood of a weakened beast.
Once great lineages of men abandoned their own martial gods to enrich themselves, and sewed the seeds of their own destruction, as they turned more and more men into slaves in lieu of corpses; manure. They ought, Isaiah thought, to have killed nine out of 10 of those they captured in raids, but they myopically kept them alive to be beasts of burden to make their own lives easier . They made themselves soft and this hardened the muscles and hearts of the slave. How could a noble man not see the doom in this?
Was it not slaves of Rome that first became quorum for Christ, the first numbers, weight, divisions of men with slave bodies, slave minds, and a slave god now as their hero ? Isaiah asked. It was the corruption of Rome, the corruption of the Attic Greeks, who brought forth Christianity; Greek, he then thought, the language of the Christian Bible in fact.
“Commerce,” Isaiah said into the room. And it was commerce that led the colonists to breed slaves so that they outnumbered white southerners 10 to one, Isaiah shook his head in contempt; it was the ratio of sheep to men in New Zealand. And who took to Christianity faster than the southern slaves? he asked himself.
Master and slave both now, since Rome, since Constantine, married under one God, one ideal, one hierarchy of values: weakness and forgiveness and turning the other cheek.
Isaiah thought it might be a joke it was so obvious, so clearly destructive to the tao that had allowed mankind -and chimps- to survive at all. The martial gods before Christ had a hierarchy of value based on vigilance, smashing all incipient plots, no forgiveness, and never giving a disloyal man a second chance. This was encoded in the alpha chimps that survived, and absent in the insouciant chimps who were overthrown in a beta putsch . Machiavelli knew the code: men should be either treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries .
This was the endogenous alpha code, his mode of being; it had no need of being taught , Isaiah thought, merely sanctioned . The inmate had said this was how he felt at each turn, to give all his love or all his hate to each one he met; he knew no middle way; and yet it was only his hate that was stayed too many times to count. He knew the code on his body and declined to listen and instead heard the State and this God of Christ behind it. Until, Isaiah remembered, when he had read Yahweh and found sanction for his vengeance at last.
Men were no different that the beasts or gods: it was the weak, the willing-to-forgive weakness, the ignoble men, men with no honor nor iron in the veins, it was the insouciant king who thought more of commerce, wealth and luxury who was usurped in the north and the east and the west. For hundreds of thousands of years man’s mode of being was clear: might makes right .
And their gods exemplified this ideal.
But once man let the weak breed that was when Christ was needed, a God for the weak and the sorry and enslaved. A democratic God for the highest virtue of this idea: each man a king, each man a wretch equally; the democracy of the soul.
Isaiah wondered how it worked at all; and for so long , he thought and was amazed as the phrase of Evola’s, aristocracy of the soul, populated his mind. But it occurred to him then, in .066 seconds, it was because of the nation-state itself. The nation-state from the Roman republic to the European kingdoms to the American experiment itself, they all needed a unifying creed, an ideal, something to hold it together. And a martial God, an Aeries, or Marduk or Yahweh, a Thor or Oðinn would not do, he surmised. A marital God would expect too much from the canaille, too much from the common man .
A marital God would make great men be great, He would demand it from man and all those below him. A marital God would never allow overbreeding for commerce, millions of slaves running amuck in the streets purely so the leaders could be rich. Wealth -in pre-Christian clans- would not be measured in talents of silver, but in the weight a man could shoulder for the tribe. The mind-set had to be different, Isaiah now saw, to keep so many weak people in line.
He saw the lumbering complexity of the large bodies of organisms compared to simple creatures, how single cells had worked for a billion years before life felt the need to grow. He thought too of some complex beasts like bacteria returning to simpler viral forms or the hippo going back to the sea.
A nation has too many people, and what happens when you add more and more people to anything: dilution, reversion to the mean. Even conversations grow dumber the more people you add. One on one conversations are always the most deep and true , Isaiah thought. What was more godlike than an author and one reader; one book in one man’s hand?
A nation must have a slave hierarchy, a weak god, an idealism of supplication and forgiveness and looking the other way. It was only under the protection and infantilization of the State, the mechanical alpha , Isaiah liked to call it, that man could afford to be so individualistic and base. Only under this massive, bloated structure of a republic, a democracy, a welfare-state -like those Sapolsky baboons under the largess of the human garbage dump- only under this could weak men thrive, grow fat, stupid and sire even weaker and more base children to fill the voodoo doll -the piñata - of the body-politic with the disgusting democratic equality of the Wrong.
And Christianity is what animated the occidental state, such an automaton, such a pin-cushion doll, such a soulless amalgam of weakness made strong by sheer volume and weight like a prey animal dead on its feet waiting to fall to the ground. The physicists would measure that deadfall as work, Isaiah thought ruefully.
Christianity is what made it all cohere at all. Like a patient damaged, broken, bent, riddled, engulfed in entropy and malady and beset by incessant pain stuffed to the gills on opiates so he can ambulate at all. The opiate was useful; and to remove it -to ween him- would kill the man, cause him to flail and act out; to go mad. But what nobody said -and what was obvious to Isaiah as all that data poured in- was that that pragmatic man, that ignoble State, that collection of broken parts and ruined mind, needed to die.
That even this God, as weak as he was, was now dead, killed by rationalism, science and the most disgusting types of corrupt men, was not problem but solution, Isaiah saw. For now the nation-state will collapse . “Yes,” he said, “the modern nation-state will collapse.”
From, he thought, the State will die from this fracturing and soggy melting as God’s blood laps at the shores; but that is good, because the State itself was the goddamn problem to begin with. It allowed too many weak people to survive the natural culling tha
t the old tribal ways instantiated in their noble, martial, and harsh ways . Sacrificial offers had to be made, and Cain’s had been found wanting.
He thought that the one caveat to all this was that he knew the helix of life moved up and down, as it torqued, rotated and revolved; it augured. A great return, meant that it would be one level up, so it may spiral and not run into its own maw .
Christ had been necessary because Job had caused Yahweh to become self-reflective for the first time in the history of the gods. God -the hierarchy of might makes right, the hierarchy of the animal creed- had not once apologized to Job for capriciously laying him low. God had only berated Job for daring to question His ways. He had shown off His power, not His reason, his prerogative not His counsel. God had said, might makes right, Job.
But, once Job himself was restored -as God did give him new offspring and bounty- what Job knew, God knew too, for both ontologically and psychologically God must know anything mankind knows. Man’s highest ideal must know the whole of man below.
Before the crisis of Job -of mankind before their breakdown of the bicameral mind- mankind had been unaware of the articulated idea of justice, of fair play, that God ought to be good in addition to powerful. Just as modern man doesn’t expect a hurricane to be good, pre-conscious man didn’t expect God to be good; man may have expected his fellow man to play fair but not the gods.
After the breakdown of the bicameral mind, after man becomes self-aware to such a degree than empathy blooms and booms in his brain with the same animating force as the Cambrian explosion itself, after man has a mind and metaphorized I , he expects God to be good, just, and honorable, too. Man invents universal justice in his mind, and it, like a leaf in the river between two lands -two hemispheres- passes him by, but remains in him as vision, memory, proof of some fruit-tree upstream. It’s evidence of a just God; an ideal that is real.
And once man -via Job - knows this, God knows it too; the ideal knows itself has thus failed.
And it was then that God sacrificed Himself by giving the world -as recompense- His only begotten son; he too abandoned on the cross. God showed penance; contrition, regret. Improvement in one domain: self-awareness.
Christ was the God not just of weakness, Isaiah thought, but of consciousness itself. Christ showed man, mankind -proved mankind- had the capacity to be self-reflective, thoughtful, repentant, and forgiving to those below him that weren’t as strong, smart, and noble as he. Some weakness was forgivable, for it was humble and it did not plot, and God knew this now: not all weak things must be destroyed; some may live if they promise not to reproduce, rejoin, reproach.
This was the one good thing in Christ, the God of self-reflection, awakeness, self-consciousness. Post-modern man, the new Tribalist, Isaiah thought, could take that into the future of the re-vivified tribal clan. The huge body of the nation-state could die, the massive juggernaut could die, be burned in a fire, but the seed of man’s consciousness would remain. In the fire the pinecone would open and the seed would emerge.
Mankind could return to alpha-dominated tribes, strong and warlike tribes, but with the seed of self-refection, the logos , the combination of the poetic-edda and the recursion of language back on the heart of man. Man would speak truth into the world to bring it forth, like black magjick , then the echo of his voice would redound to him too, bringing forth white light into his own mind and soul. The Great Return would collapse the State, the weak slave God of Christ would lift off the dead corpse of the State, but the soul of man would return to his martial, noble, regal ways.
Small, Isaiah thought, bands of tribal warlords, lead by great warrior-poets, men of grand genomes with the power of language borne of acute self-reflection, awareness, men awake, unencumbered by hesitation or irony or doubt, would again roam the earth, doing battle for supremacy, cleansing the earth of the haughty dross, the chaff, the weak genes, and the eco-system of man would return to a balance, with great men stuffing weak men through the threshing floor of the black sun to fuel its black light upon the white of the world.
36. Primitives
Warriors, who or where, fight who & where, and how they can
Blackhawk [Zendik, Wulf]
In other words, no dedicated information molecules exist separately from operation molecules
21st Century Evolution [Shapiro, James]
How many Spartiates are there? Enough to keep out undesirables
On Sparta [Plutarch]
I. 2017 e.v.
He stood up in the tub and looked out over 1.5 million acres of Colorado wilderness to the south. Taos, New Mexico was just visible to his south/southeast. He lowered his black underwear -no banding, no logos, no deviation from black- and relieved himself onto the edge of the slab that the hot tub sat upon, the pad he had poured, screed and troweled himself.
He had even mixed the crete by hand in a wheelbarrow with a flathead shovel because the mixer had been unable to start , he recalled.
The urine was neon yellow thanks to undigested vitamins he took by the handful. And his body began to feel cold from the winter air; the fog finally began to rise up from the valley and hem him in; he liked it; it felt like another wall between him and anyone else. Walls within walls , he thought with satisfaction.
He was finished with women as laid out in First Corinthians 7 ; and like 65% of the things he said, he stuck to it; which is 90% more than the rest of the species.
People can easily see the nobility in ignoring your Darwinian impulses -many scientists from Dawkins to Weinstein had said so directly- but they only meant the violence and greed ; they certainly don’t expect a man to foreclose on the sexual desire that sinews and skins the meat of all men.
But, he was happy to give it up -he was a romantic, anyway- and didn’t like meaningless sex; he was like a woman that way. And relationships with women were impossible these days; they had too many options and it prevented them from submitting to a civil rule; and it made them unhappy as a result.
Name one woman you know that is happy , he thought, and I bet she’s a girl who’s been with only one man -her husband- and lives out in the middle of nowhere with no temptations to sin.
Man was not meant to have more than three choices in anything; and partners is certainly one of them . Cities and modernity have ruined relationships; and since everyone is in cahoots, everyone pretends this ain’t true. It’s a conspiracy toward sin; and this is what all men forget about sin: it harms you, not just God. Anyway, he thought, he was now at least out of this evil loop.
Jesse James had died at 34, Morrison at 27; Alexander almost made it to 33. Rimbaud just 39; Flannery O’Connor 34; Jack London 40. The list went on and on. All Great men died young or in ignominy. John Brown was hung by Lincoln and condemned by Hawthorn; and Brown was 1,000 times as great as both men conjoined.
Lyndon was 44 and had lived a good life, and so he would take as many more days as they’d give him, but he was playing with the house’s money now; so, he would be even more reckless than normal. This would make people grin if he happened to put it that way in mixed company. He was not known as a cautious man before this phase change into pure malice. He already had a reputation for chaos. He laughed at that. They had no idea how much he had restrained himself to date.
The rest of his days would be dedicated to revenge; vengeance was his only pursuit. It was a noble task he felt, and if you ruminated on it a bit you’d find it honorable too , he honestly felt.
Bad people proliferated in a liberal society; people lied and cheated and gossiped all without cease or governance. And any man who didn’t live that way was at a disadvantage; a disadvantage that could only be cured by following through with the talents and capacities he had and that they didn’t: martial and righteous force. The Horseshoe crab has the best immune system on the planet, the best defense, he thought, the white shark has the best offense in the game. Each organism must play to their strengths, and not try to play another beast’s game.
His enemies wer
e all beta males and females; weak people who had to lie, cheat and gossip to win; they had no size or strength or martial appetite; they couldn’t win on God-leveled ground. But since their weapons were legal -in the modern world- and his armature was not, then as prey they grossly rutted and as predator he was asked -told- to have none. They offered him the grass to eat. He asked, what about these sharp teeth?
It was an imbalance of nature and thus, axiomatically, immoral in his eyes. In his eyes, he saw as he looked out over the edge of his land, in his eyes, he was moral and they were immoral . One ought to linger on that longer than one might think is needed, he thought as he removed the underwear in toto ; he didn’t even know why he had worn it in the tub in the first goddamn place. There wasn’t a human within 50 square miles of him , he thought as he sat down naked and as unashamed as the Greeks.
You don’t let the deer and jackals breed exponentially and then muzzle and declaw the tiger; you don’t. God doesn’t, and yet man thinks he can do this very thing. Man’s law and social mores allow beta males and females to gossip and lie and cheat and rut without cessation while they swat the nose of the alpha male and tell him to embay and embalm his instincts toward justice and righteousness and nobility. Imagine God putting a muzzle on the White Shark and yet letting the Horseshoe crab to keep its defense! he thought with contempt.
He grew hot, overheated, in the tub some days; his allostatic and homeostatic regulation was not as consistent as he thought. Makes you wonder what’s going on in there, he thought. He rose from the tub and let the 30 degree air cool him off. His insides were mercurial, and he knew this had import for things larger than body temp . He stood up in the cold, merely his shins and feet in the 103 degree water, and steam -of course- lifted off the surface area of his large body that was never large enough. The slider window to his bedroom both allowed to pass through and reflected the hundreds of books that lined his northern wall.
