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Crusaders like Cortes and Pizarro, Fernando de Soto, Drake and Raleigh, Magellan and Balboa equal in daring, intelligence, magnitude of spirit, resourcefulness and achievement any of the great men of the Greeks and Romans. The story of the heroic age of exploration remains to be told in full, and maybe one of you one day will make big book or big movies. I say also now: for those who seek to make a difference and have some artistic or visual bent, movies are the golden key to the minds of the many. What Mel Gibson does is worth a thousand books or “activisms” for your side. Learn to make movies, if you can, and you can start with video. In any case, there is just one great epic that tells the story in its proper form, the great poem of Camoes, a man born to piracy and high adventure. This man lost an eye in war in Ceuta against the Moor; he then lived as a brigand and vagabond in imperial Lisbon, getting into one duel and fight after another, composing poetry, getting drunk. His mother saved him from prison, but he was pressed into service in the colonial navy and army. He arrived in Goa and from there participated in many adventures, military and diplomatic, as a man of low rank but high spirits. All the while he was writing his great poem the Lusiad, and when he was shipwrecked off the Mekong with his Chinese girlfriend, he carried the text of this timeless work above his head to save it from the water. No one reads it anymore, and his life would make a great movie. But he is right that the voyages of these new crusaders equal any great expedition even from the myths and legends of the past. Here we have Jason’s Argo made anew, and not just once, but in every one of these nations of the West. England’s glory during these years might never be equaled again by any people. Even the kings of Portugal, who started the age of colonization and exploration, had English blood. The Gothic restlessness of the steppe shook in the lords of Iberia with a Titanic energy. Before the great voyage to the Orient of Vasco da Gama, spies—and I mean just one or two men—went alone on expeditions in Egypt and down the Red Sea, into the heart of Arabia, fearlessly, incognito, to collect information crucial for the coming expedition. Perched on the beaches of the great Eurasian mass, these men went, in just a hundred years, from sailing a few almost-rafts that they barely knew how to navigate, to explorers of new worlds and founders of global empires that lasted for centuries. You must understand how amazing this feat was: there was no tradition of seamanship in Portugal or Spain, let alone France or England…it all had to be done from scratch. Do you know at all to respect the sea? If you’ve ever traveled a ferry on even a relatively calm sea like the Adriatic, on a windy day a large modern ferry, as big as a city block…it will swing right and left. You won’t be used to it. The Atlantic has waves ten feet or more as a matter of course and these men were traveling on wooden ships with 15th Century tech; you must be crazy to have no awe of this. For romance of the sea you should read Melville. Columbus is celebrated, yes, but there were others who were even greater than him, or at least his equal, and few know about them. They don’t receive the glory they deserve because, first, many of the writers who could have done this were prejudiced against their strong religious faith and their piety: you see, most of the modern glorifiers of antiquity usually had an axe to grind against Christianity or the Church, so they didn’t want to promote these men, or admit that the champions of the faith were the most shining exemplars of the classical man in our time. Even Nietzsche stays away from them and, in a moment of weakness, speaks nonsense about the “superiority” of the Aztecs. On the other hand, the Church has been embarrassed about these men. More than anyone else they spread its power and gospel through the world, and even before that, they saved Europe itself from the Moors and the other threats. They’re the direct descendants of the crusaders who liberated Spain and other parts of Europe. The Church doesn’t want to admit that once Ferdinand and Isabella cleared Spain of the enemies of Christ, God blessed that nation with a century of prosperity and pre-eminence, and gave it the foundation of world-empire. But the Church was embarrassed by them, by the conquistadores, by their cruelty and their pagan love of vitality and action, so it tried to disavow them while making use of their strength. So their story remains largely untold, although it’s one of the peaks of history and of manly achievement. Few understand the voyages, for example, of even one of the most famous among them, Vasco da Gama and how in many ways it exceeded the feats of Columbus. This man circumnavigated Africa and found the sea route to the Indies—what Columbus had actually set out to do (or so the story goes…I believe Columbus had some secret maps…) Such voyage was attempted long before by the Phoenician Hanno, but no one knows what really came of that. The travel was difficult. When you reach a certain point of the West African coast you can’t just continue to hug along it…you have to pull out to the west and swoop around—this is likely how South America was discovered. Do you know what starvation, scurvy, and tropical disease is? Do you understand tropical heat? Sure, some of you might, but know that off the West Africa coast, when a wind blows in your face it’s not a relief: it’s like a hairdryer going off in your face, nonstop. And yet he reached India, he found spices, he found monkey, he made the Zamorin submit with big guns. His investors made thousands of percent return. Just seven years later another conquistador returned, Almeida, with a great armada that tore a swathe of destruction along the Indian Ocean. He burned down Mombasa, though outnumbered, because of the arrogance of its Arab rulers—imagine the stench that must have wafted as far as Japan! This man defeated a huge armada of Ottomans, Arabs, Mamelukes at the Battle of Diu, to avenge the death of his son: and this was momentous time. Space itself on our world changed. The great overland routes of trade were now outflanked by the seafaring nations of western Europe, which from this moment began to dominate the Indian Ocean and the Pacific. Do you understand America had a great destiny in this design as well? When the colonists founded Jamestown, let’s say there were no more than two hundred or two hundred and fifty years from that act to the time of Commodore Perry: the American people had tamed the continent and pushed their way to Asia across the seas in no time at all. It would have happened even faster if they hadn’t been hampered by the domination of England…once they gained their independence their expansion was very fast (the Constitution, the ideology, the doctrine of rights, is all so much nonsense and has nothing to do with any of this…it barely all even lasted through the lifetimes of the founders of America, who were seeking merely dominion and freedom of space to expand). The great destiny of America had always been the conquest of the Far East and the domination of China, which obsessed the leading minds of that time. All of this has now been forgotten and America’s great fate has been thwarted—at least for now. What do you know then of men like this, or of Afonso de Albuquerque who followed Almeida, who captured Hormuz and Muscat with seven ships, who opened the way to the Spice Islands of legend? I prefer as usual not to talk of such men: they are so far from your possibilities that the example is almost depressing. I want to encourage you again with someone else from this age, a man more to my taste, and more within the realm of what is possible, of what is about to become possible again. This is the brilliant right-hand-man of Cortes, Pedro de Alvarado. He was a man of knightly family from southern Spain, but had fiery red-blond hair, which amazed the Mexicas: they believed he was a child of the Sun, and called him Tonatiuh, the mane of the sun. He was of boundless courage, carelessness, and also boundless cruelty. Cortes left him in charge briefly in Tenochtitlan where he massacred all the Aztec nobles in the Great Temple during a banquet…for no reason at all. During the battles he distinguished himself by insane charges into the thick of the enemy by which he was outnumbered by hundreds to one: yet he never lost heart, he went right for their garish flower-decorated lieutenants and cut them down, striking fear into the multitude. Don’t believe the lies about gunpowder. Guns were very basic at this time, and on many occasions the Spanish didn’t have guns at all. The armor, the pikes, the Toledo steel blades, the discipline and know-how from decades of fighting the Moor—all of this was far m
ore important. And above all, bravery and daring, the same that led Pizarro to take down an empire with a retinue of thirteen men. What I want to say about Alvarado, though, is this: once conquests were made, he never stopped. His thirst for space, for new worlds, for new conquests, was without end. In his letters you see this is his only interest. Though made governor of a huge area—the present-day states of Guatemala, of Honduras, these are his creations—he nevertheless showed no interest at all in ruling them. He squeezed them of whatever money he could, never paying any taxes back to Spain, and always planned new adventures and new conquests. This man was a born pirate: right before his death he was planning a great expedition for the conquest of China and the Spice Islands. Alvarado was a nemesis to civilization, and this is right and good. God sends such men to chastise mankind. I want you to be like this: to listen to these instincts in you. When he was put in charge of territory, Alvarado could have very easily settled down to the life of a governor; most men would. Enticed by the prestige and honor, they would play the part: then also, their vanity would fool them into thinking that they could govern well. Well, maybe you can govern well, or maybe you can’t. But Alvarado knew what he was. And he didn’t try to be more than one thing. Be one thing. Single-minded purity of purpose is true manliness. He knew he was a born beast of prey, and never pretended to be more or less than this. This self-assured sense of who he was made him insanely attractive even to the natives he oppressed and massacred: despite his cruelty, they couldn’t help being drawn to his charm, his lofty manner, his outrageous magnificence. They worshiped him as a god. The other Spaniards were in awe as well. You must see that nature blesses all men who have faith in their own blood and in their instincts…nature blesses them with such magnetism. Alvarado is the avatar of our new age, and I predict this: within fifty years a hundred Alvarados will bloom from deep in the tropical bestiary of the spirit. They will sweep away the weakness of this world.
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Bob Denard shows that the spirit of Bronze Age pirate can exist also in our age. It can flower complete and unedited. You have no excuse! This man may not be what you expect. How different he is from the pretentious bureaucrats we see, the politicians with their high-flown language, their tedious moral preaching, their careful self-positioning, timidity, and the drudgery to which they subject themselves. Men who embrace high-flown moral principle in public are usually looked down on by many regular people; they can smell the bullshit from far away. He started out as a regular soldier with the French in Vietnam, but he was court-martialed after he burned down a bar—part of a dispute, you see. Some men chimp out by writing a complaint, others by getting in a bar fight, others by burning down the building. After this he wandered around Africa, finding odd jobs in the employ of local nabobs and potentates, all of them utterly corrupt and incompetent. He said once something like, “It’s important never to be ‘ambitious.’ Men of ‘ambition’ are losers. Act and feel like a winner and good things, friends, and victory will come.” He took part in adventures all over Africa: coups in Benin, the Congo, secessionist movements like in Biafra (the French styling on English Nigeria) and so forth. His greatest feat was to overthrow the government of the Comoros four times. Each time France had to send special forces to the islands to dislodge him. Otherwise he would have surely become a hereditary ruler. He had many wives and won many properties by the power of his hand. At the end of his life…well…this life lasted too long. He should have died in defense of his territory, younger, and without descending into the dementia and pain that took him in old age. France repaid his service with persecution; no longer needed to fight communists in Africa, his vainglory and ferocity became a liability. Now, if you need great moral elevation, if war must be in the service of a good cause, you can consider his service in Congo, in Katanga and then against the Simba rebels. At Stanleyville he, along with only a handful of other white mercenaries, freed thousands of hostages from rape and sure massacre at the hands of the savage Simbas. In many ways he defended whatever residues of civilization remained in Africa after decolonization. In this last venture he was joined by a man of similar temperament, the Colonel “Mad Mike” Hoare. This is another great example of the modern rebirth of Bronze Age vitalism. And another example of why you’re a fag. An Irish-English dandy, he was a gentleman among soldiers, but a man before being a gentleman: he remained throughout his life single-minded, brutal and cool-headed in the middle of conflicts where he was outnumbered thousands to one, swamped by the demented zombi hordes of the tropics. This man understood communism for what it was: the infestation of vermin he was tasked to exterminate, a biological event, not an ideological, political, or historical one. After the war in Burma he made a living working on safaris and then, like Denard, gaining experience in the service of various African governments. He led an elite unit of mercs in the Congo, and in the same operation with Denard, was responsible for relieving Stanleyville and saving a hundred nuns and missionaries from rape and torture. Thereafter he led many missions in Africa, a new frontier. He was later involved in an aborted coup on the Seychelles. Failure is not dishonorable, as long as you are making a great gamble for great gains. It isn’t right to judge such people by the “justice” of their cause. Some of you spergs and almost all of the half-educated class think when Nietzsche talks about “beyond good and evil” that he’s making some grand proposition about there being no possibility to evaluate men or events. Morality is absolute necessity for the people. There is the other morality, that reveals a biological hierarchy. Just the same, a different standard applies to huemans, and a different one to the true men who are willing to live in danger, and who don’t care for their animal lives. Men like Denard and Hoare are a great attempt on the part of nature itself: they show that even in our age there are men who yearn inscribe their wills in bronze for the ages, who want their terrible creations to endure for centuries. They should be judged by what they were willing to risk in their spirit—and also by the unequaled rush they all must have had, inside them, as they pursued their high aims. Even just a few years ago Margaret Thatcher’s son Mark was given a sentence in South Africa in 2005 for an attempted coup in Equatorial Guinea. He was ratted out and caught at the airport. You must understand that the meddlesome little cretinoids who run the West always put a stop to great plans and great actions. They’ve ended many promising adventures through their snooping…they’re tattletales, always watching, never sleeping, always whispering. Gallant men, who live under the sign of the lion are stopped before they can act. A different way is necessary. But I mean to say, don’t be fooled: in our age too men of adamantine character exist, who fight like Capaneus before Thebes, ready nude with fire in arm to burn down city. They appear now as villain, now as hero to the people, but you must learn to forget just this desire of the people and yearn rather to live dangerously and do great deeds, for good or evil. The danger of our time is not that it makes people bad, but that it makes everything small and afraid. Neall Ellis in his trusty Mi-24 Hind helicopter held off the rebels in the Sierra Leone civil war, singlehandedly, and saved innumerable lives. There’s little glamor in his job, and in the end it didn’t matter: but on his trusty flying Hind steed he must have felt like a beast of prey swooping down on the enemy. He worked for company, Executive Outcomes—a name that might make you think of second-rate consulting company in office park. But this was merc company that ended the civil war in Sierra Leone and threatened to establish a new order all over Africa. For this reason they were stopped by the UN, by gangs of international lawyers and financiers who fear the power of the new Sea Peoples. How long can they hold off such men from their destiny? In the Rhodesian war, you had companies of a few white farmers, raised in the bush, who ambushed armies of Zambia and Mozambique many thousands strong. They would attack with stealth, stalking them, inflict frightful casualties, and escape unharmed. Many such stories: look up Nyadzonya raid. The potential for adventures and conquests like European man has rarely experienced in the past still exis
ts, and I have no doubt that in the coming years such opportunities will become ever more frequent. The great Leviathan will falter, sooner or later. The coming age of barbarism will not be owned, as so many of you urban cucks fear, by the gangbangers and the unwashed hordes of the teeming cesspools of the world, but by clean-cut middle-class and working-class vets, men of military experience, who know something about how to shoot and how to organize. The fools who think oligarchs will be able to control these men for very long should look to the fortunes of the Sforzas and many others, and remember that money is no match for force of arms combined with charm.
When Theodore Roosevelt was I think close to seventy years old, he went on expedition to the Amazon, then mostly still unexplored: he called it one last chance to be a boy. This expedition led to his death; and it was a good death. He followed in footsteps of men of power like Lope de Aguirre…and never lost the yearning in his heart for Eldorado.
Bronze Age Mindset Page 14
