Breed The Secret Design To Maintain Racial Inequality Among The Despised Classes

by William Chasterson

  Tremendous economic development leads to a change in the social structure of the animals. There arises the unskilled general laborer. His most noteworthy characteristic is his inability to ever be in a position to found an existence of his own. He is propertyless in the truest sense of the word. His old age is a torment and can barely be called living. Masses of animals numbering in the millions, moved from the wilderness to larger cities. They earned their survival as laborers in newly established industries. The working and living conditions of the new class were absolutely miserable. The more or less mechanical transference of the wild animals working methods to the new form was by no means suitable. The work done by these animals could not be compared with the exertions, which the unskilled general laborer has to perform. Thus, the fifteen-hour working day ceased to be bearable. This is because every minute was exploited to the fullest. The result of this senseless transference of the old working hours to the new industrial activity was unfortunate in two respects. The worker's health was undermined and his faith in a higher justice destroyed. To this was added the miserable wages on the one hand and the employer's vastly superior position on the other. At this point the separation of worker and employer seems complete in all fields of life. How far the inner Lumpefication of our breed has progressed can be seen from the contempt that is accorded to manual labor. This hatred of work is not Cuyamongan. It took the foreignization of our life, which was in truth a Lumpefication, to transform the old respect for manual work into disdain. Thus, there comes into being a new class enjoying very little respect. One day the nation must address a critical question. Do they possess the strength to articulate this new class into general society, or will the social differences broaden into a chasm?

  The Lumpen sees an opportunity for unlimited corruption. While organizing methods of animal exploitation, he approaches the very victims of this exploitation and becomes the leader of their struggle against himself. ‘Against himself’ is only figuratively speaking; for the great master of lies understands how to make himself appear to be the pure one while loading the blame on others. Since he has the gall to lead the masses, it never even occurs to them that they are about to suffer the most infamous betrayal of all times. Scarcely has the new class grown out of the general economic shift than the Lumpen, realizes that it can open the way for his own further advancement. He hopes to find the road to his own domination in the worker's struggle for existence. From now on the worker has no other task but to fight for the future of the Lumpen breed. Unconsciously he is harnessed to the service of the power, which he thinks he is combating.

  The Lumpen approaches the worker and gains his confidence by feigning pity with his fate and even indignation at his lot of misery and poverty. He takes pains to study the various real or imaginary hardships of his life and to arouse in him a longing for change. With infinite shrewdness he fans the need for social justice, into hatred against those who have been better favored by fortune. He gives the struggle for the elimination of social evils a very definite philosophical stamp by establishing the animalist doctrine. By presenting it as inseparably bound up with a number of socially just demands, he promotes its spread. The animalist encourages hatred toward decent animals who strive to fulfill demands which, seem from the outset unjust and impossible to fulfill. Under this cloak of purely social ideas truly diabolic purposes are hidden. Yes, they are publicly proclaimed with the most insolent frankness. This theory represents an inseparable mixture of reason and madness, but always in such a way that only the lunacy can become reality and never the reason. By the categorical rejection of the personality and hence of the nation and its racial content, it destroys the elementary foundations of all animal culture which is dependent on just these factors. This is the true substance of the animalist philosophy in so far as this figment of a criminal brain can be designated as a 'philosophy.' With the shattering of the personality and the breed, the essential obstacle is removed to the domination of the inferior being, the Lumpen. Precisely in political and economic madness lies the sense of this doctrine. For this prevents all truly intelligent animals from entering its service, while those who are intellectually less active and poorly educated in economics hasten to it with flying colors. Even this movement needs intellectuals for its existence, so they are sacrificed by the Lumpen from his own ranks. Thus there arises a pure movement entirely of manual workers under Lumpen leadership. Their apparent aim is to improve the situation of the worker. But in truth they work for the enslavement and destruction of all non-Lumpen breeds. The general pacifistic paralysis of the national instinct of self-preservation is transmitted to the broad masses. Added to these two weapons comes a third and by far the most terrible, the organization of brute force. As a shock and storm troop, animalism is intended to finish off what the preparatory softening up with the first two weapons has made ripe for collapse. The shrewd Lumpen takes the oppressed animals under his wing. Gradually he becomes the leader of the trade-union movement. He is not interested in eliminating social evils in an honest sense, but only in training an economic storm troop, blindly devoted to him, with which to destroy the national economic independence. The conduct of a healthy social policy will consistently move between the aims of preserving the national health on the one hand and safeguarding an independent national economy on the other. But for the Lumpen struggle, these two criteria cease to exist. He desires, not the preservation of an independent national economy, rather its destruction. Consequently, no pangs of conscience can prevent him as a leader of the trade-union movement from raising demands that overshoot the goal. The fulfillment of these demands is either impossible for practical purposes or means the ruin of the national economy. Moreover, he desires to bring forward a broken-down herd of animals capable of being subjugated. When he raises demands of the most senseless kind he knows full well their practical fulfillment is impossible. His motive is not to bring about an improvement in social conditions but to ignite a wild incitement of the masses. He circulates propaganda adapted to the intellectual horizon of the least educated animals. Its function is not to lead animals out of the swamp of a base mentality, but to cater to their lowest instincts. Since the masses are as mentally lazy as they are presumptuous, the results are speculative. The propagandists wage a fanatical and slanderous struggle to tear down everything, which can be regarded as a support of cultural elevation. Above all, it hammers away at the characters of all those whose ability and genius in themselves seem a danger to the Lumpen. To be hated by the Lumpen it is not necessary to combat him. It suffices if he suspects that someone might even conceive of combating him in the future. His hostility is assured to anyone who is not spirit of his spirit. Since the Lumpen is the attacker anyone who resists him passes as his enemy. The means used to break such reckless but upright souls is not honest warfare, but lies and slander. Here he stops at nothing to destroy his enemy. The ignorance of the broad masses about the inner nature of the Lumpen, make the resister an easy victim for the campaign of lies.

  Cowardice causes the upper classes to turn their backs on the attacked animal while the broad masses stupidly believe the lies. Fear of the animalist weapon descends like a nightmare on the minds of decent animals. They tremble before the terrible enemy thus becoming his final victim. State domination now seems so assured that he can openly call himself a Lumpen again. He ruthlessly admits his ultimate national and political designs. A section of his breed brazenly owns itself to be a foreign species. It is a sign of their rising confidence that at a time when one section is still playing the Cuyamongan, Fostorian, or Klieven, the other has the audacity to come out as the Lumpen breed.

  How close they see approaching victory is reflected by the hideous manner in which relations with other species takes on. With wicked joy in his face, the Lumpen youth lurks in wait for the unsuspecting female. He defiles her with his blood, thus stealing her from her breed. With every means he tries to destroy the racial foundations of the breed he has set out to subjugate. Just as he himsel
f systematically ruins female animals, he does not shrink back from pulling down the blood barriers for others on a large scale. It was the Lumpen who brought the mixed breed into Cuyamonga, with the clear aim of ruining the hated Thoroghbred Feline breed. He presumed to throw it down from its cultural and political height in order to rise as its master. However a racially pure breed that is conscious of its blood can never be enslaved by the Lumpen. In this world he will forever be master over bastards and bastards alone. And so he tries systematically to lower the racial level by a continuous poisoning of individuals. In the organized mass of animalism he has found the weapon that lets him dispense with democracy and in its stead allows him to subjugate and govern the animals with a dictatorial and brutal claw.

  He systematically works for revolution. Thanks to his international influence he weaves a net of enemies around species who offer too violent a resistance to attack from within. He incites them to war then plants the flag of revolution on the very battlefields. In economics he undermines the states until the social enterprises are taken from the state and subjected to his financial control. In the political field he refuses the state means for its self-preservation. He destroys the foundations of all national self-maintenance and defense. He destroys faith in the leadership, scoffs at its history, and drags everything that is truly great into the gutter. Culturally he makes a mockery of natural feeling. He overthrows all concepts of beauty, sublimity, nobility or goodness. He instead drags animals down into the sphere of his own base nature. Tradition is ridiculed, morality defined as obsolete, until the last frame work of a nation in its struggle for existence have fallen.

  Now begins the final revolution. In gaining political power the Lumpen casts off the few cloaks that he still wears. The democratic animal's Lumpen becomes the blood-Lumpen and tyrant over breeds. He exterminates the national intelligentsia. Robbing the animals of their natural intellectual leadership makes them ripe for the slave's lot of permanent subjugation. Kliev offers the most frightful example of this kind. Here the Lumpen killed or starved about thirty million animals with positively fanatical savagery in order to dominate a great breed. The end is not only the end of the freedom of the animals oppressed by the Lumpen, but also the end of the parasite himself. After the death of his victim, the parasite sooner or later dies too. If we review all the causes of the former Cuyamongan collapse, the most decisive remains the failure to recognize the racial problem and especially the Lumpen menace. In heedlessly ignoring the question of the preservation of the racial foundations of our breed, the old rulers disregarded the sole right, which gives life in this world. Animals that allow themselves to be bastardized, sin against the will of Nature. When their ruin is encompassed by a stronger enemy it is not an injustice done to them, but only the restoration of justice. If a breed no longer wants to respect the Nature-given qualities of it’s being which is rooted in its blood, it has no further right to complain over the loss of its earthly existence. Everything on this earth is capable of improvement. Every defeat can become the father of a subsequent victory. Every lost war can become the cause of a later resurgence. Every oppression can bring about the forces for a new spiritual rebirth as long as the blood is preserved pure. The lost purity of the blood alone destroys inner happiness plunging animal forever into an abyss.”

  Hannibal hadn’t directly answered any questions regarding the alleged atrocities and the chairman didn’t even get to inquire about the secret weapon. Nevertheless he had used up all of his allotted time and even went overtime. Leaving the chairman in a state of confusion Hannibal turned and walked off the stage in the same way I had done earlier. A jolt of terror shot through me as I thought I noticed Hannibal glance at me with the corners of his mouth ever so slightly raised. It happened so quickly that even to this day I’m not completely convinced that it wasn’t just my imagination.

  At lunch while my comrades ate, I found myself unconsciously thinking about Sabrina. I had decided that despite the humiliation I would no doubt have to undergo, I would tell her that I only wanted to be her friend. I reasoned that being only her friend was better than no relationship at all. I didn’t know how I would handle seeing her with other suitors but I convinced myself that the humiliation was worth bearing. Who knows, perhaps there would be a future opening in which she may give me another opportunity. All at once I was seized with self-loathing. “It’s all so degrading!” I thought to myself. Like the previous day, my comrades quickly devoured their meals while I slowly ate mine. As I anticipated, they departed early leaving me by myself. Frantically I began to look around me. Sabrina was nowhere to be found. As I sulkily turned back around to finish my meal I gave a start. Sabrina was sitting right in front of me. All at once I began going over in my head prepared words while at the same time readying myself for the accompanying shame. To my great surprise Sabrina spoke first. “Christopher, I’ve decided to give you another chance. I may have overreacted yesterday. If you still want to, I’ll allow you to be with me.” Her words struck me like a bolt of lightning. My face lit up and immediately the idea of being only friends seemed so absurd that I discarded it vehemently. “Yes. Of course I do!” I exclaimed. She smiled. “Your cute,” she replied stroking my whiskers. “Meet me in room number nine after the afternoon session. We should be able to talk without being disturbed.” I really did not expect this. I was suddenly so happy that I felt the need to offer her a token of my affection. I began to recount to her all of my innermost feelings, the way that I had suffered as a result of her rejection, even my decision to only be her friend. The thought occurred to me that she may despise me because of these confessions but I was so happy I couldn’t help myself. Sabrina affectionately pressed my paw and said, “I’ll see you this afternoon. Don’t keep me waiting.” The hours of the afternoon session passed as though they were only a few minutes. After the final speech, I found an excuse to break away from my comrades and made a beeline for room number nine. I was walking on air as I entered the room where Sabrina instructed me to meet her. I couldn’t help but be amazed at the change in my mood as a result of Sabrina’s message. “Is animal really that fickle?” I thought. “Matters of extreme importance to animalkind are being decided at this time. For better or worse the consequences of these decisions will likely affect all animals for generations to come. And yet, after receiving a few encouraging words from Sabrina nothing else seems to matter. The world can solve its own problems.” I wasn’t sure whether I should laugh or cry. I suddenly began laughing. “Animal is not a serious creature,” I said aloud. “These matters aren’t going to be solved by him.” As I was saying this, the door began to open. “Its Sabrina,” I thought and my heart began to beat rapidly. Grinning widely, I opened my mouth to speak when suddenly I gave a start. I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to beat any faster than it already was, in anticipation of seeing the object of my love. I was proved wrong as adrenaline shot through my veins and caused my heart rate to double. Terror gripped me as I all at once found myself cornered with no way out under the icy gaze of Field Marshal Hannibal. At this close range his large blue eyes proved to be more overwhelming than ever. With his eyes locked on mine he said, “I realize you weren’t expecting to meet me here but I thought I would take this opportunity for you and I to have a little chat.” With strenuous effort I forced myself to speak. “Where is Sabrina? If you’ve hurt her I’ll…” “You’ll what?” interrupted Hannibal. After a long pause he continued, “All your questions will be answered in due time, but first let me ask you a question Commander. What did you think of my speech?” A sense of danger filled my mind as I remembered Niccolo’s warning to never listen to the speciests. However this feeling was soon replaced with an even greater feeling of curiosity. I suddenly realized that if I was going to attempt to understand the thinking of a dedicated speciest, I could choose no better subject than Field Marshall Hannibal. I said, “You made an interesting hypothesis but I don’t agree with all the conclusions you reached.” For the first time Han
nibal departed from his serious demeanor. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Hypothesis? Zarathustra deals in reality my friend. Not fantasy. You have to admit the reality of your own eyes. If nature wanted us to mix, why did she make such strong barriers separating one being from another? Have you never asked yourself this question? Strenuous effort is required to go against these barriers and the result of this extra labor is not stronger but weaker beings. You have allowed your mind to be poisoned by this idea that it is possible to overcome nature.” I seriously pondered his argument as I could see the sincerity in his terrifying eyes. I asked, “Has that really been proved? You say that mixing breeds produces weak beings but in what ways are they weaker? From what I’ve seen they have the same capacity for growth as the so-called pure breed.” I shrugged. “Are there mentally and physically deficient mixed breeds? Of course there are. But I don’t believe this has to do with their blood. There are other factors at work including neglect of proper education and poor living conditions. In any event according to what I have seen, the same deficiencies exist in the so-called pure breed.” Indignantly, Hannibal began to raise his voice. “That is not true! The Thoroughbred Feline has no deficiencies!” Regaining his composure he continued, “I’m asking you to think logically. Zarathustra believes in you. He has been following your progress ever since you first set paw in Cuyamonga. He believes that you are meant for great things. You are wasting your talents with the animalists. There are only three groups you can be a part of. They are the culture founders, culture bearers and culture destroyers. We are the founders of all higher animal culture. Currently you are aligned with the culture destroyers.” Hannibal reached out his paw pleadingly. “I implore you to wake up. Look around you. Come over to Zarathustra’s side before it is too late.” Again I was impressed with the genuineness of Hannibal’s attempt to convert me. It seemed as if he really believed everything he was saying to me. The type of animal I always imagined believing in speciest philosophy was someone who was mentally inferior. But standing before me was a cat with an above average intelligence and yet he appeared to be a true believer. I asked, “What does Zarathustra want with me?” Remembering Sabrina’s words I added, “Doesn’t he know I’m a mixed breed?” Hannibal grinned. “Christopher,” he said, using my name for the first time. “I want to let you in on a little secret.” Hannibal paused, with his icy blue eyes intently fixed upon me. “Zarathustra is not a pure breed feline. His mind is pure but his body has been defiled as a result of his ancestors’ lack of vigilance. Zarathustra understands that in these early stages of ethnic cleansing, the most important factor is that you have a pure mind.” Hannibal squinted at me. “Imagine yourself united with Sabrina. With her pure blood your children would be of much stronger stock than if you were to mate with a sub-animal. As long as your offspring strictly followed nature’s rigid rules eventually the Thoroughbred Feline would emerge in your lineage.” I Inadvertently wrinkled my brow. Picking up on this, Hannibal added, “Or if you change your mind and no longer want Sabrina, you can have your pick of whatever pure bred beauty you want.” I found this conversation rather distasteful. I thought, “If specieism is a morally superior philosophy than why are you tempting me with sensual desires?” After a brief pause I said, “I’m flattered that Zarathustra thinks so highly of me but I owe it to the common animal to stay the course.” At this Hannibal began to laugh sardonically. He retorted, “Do you really think that the animalists are doing anything beneficial for the common animal. You don’t even have a proper understanding of him. You feel that the way we handle the Lumpen is cruel. What you fail to see is that the current societal structure in Lumpenproletria is just as perfect as the societal structure in Cuyamonga. The only reason the Lumpens appear to be dissatisfied is because pacifists and animalists fill their heads with ridiculous ideas. They constantly compare their conditions with those of the Thoroughbred Feline. This is an unfair comparison because they are not equal beings. These comparisons can only result in frustration for the Lumpen as he vainly strives for the impossible.” Having heard about all I could stomach of this repulsive speech, I exclaimed, “That’s enough!” Hannibal was a bit taken aback. I continued, “The Lumpen is every bit as much an animal as the Cuyamongan. All animals are created equal.” Hannibal grinned and took a few steps toward me. He began wringing his paws together. He asked, “Why is it so hard for you to believe that some breeds are inferior to others? Earlier you admitted that animals could be affected by environmental factors like education and living conditions. I suppose it’s your contention that the prevalent birth defects and mental illnesses reported in Lumpenproleteria are as a result of this?” “It is,” I responded. Hannibal went on, “So If we were to take the entire population of Lumpens and transfer them to Cuyamonga and similarly transport all of the Cuyamongans to Lumpenproletria according to your theory we would immediately see a reversal in the conditions of both breeds?” “Well,” I pondered. “I don’t believe the change would be immediate. I imagine the role reversal could take a few generations.” Hannibal’s eyes widened. “Oh? But why wouldn’t the expected ‘change’ be immediate?” “Well,” I said. “The damage done to the individual may be irreversible but the damage done to the breed can be corrected with young healthy future generations.” All at once Hannibal began pointing at me accusingly just as he had done in my dream the other night. A tremor of fear passed through me. He said, “You’re trying to have it both ways. Is it the environmental factors or the blood that determines the outcome of the breed?” I knitted my brow. I had a feeling that I was being duped but I couldn’t immediately work out the deception. Before I had an opportunity to respond Hannibal continued his assault, “What about my argument concerning idealism and the willingness of the Thoroughbred Feline to sacrifice himself for the community? The Lumpen would never do this.” Exasperated I asserted, “First of all, the animalists seem just as ready to sacrifice themselves for the cause as do the speciests. In fact this seems to be the one ideology that both groups agree upon. They can barely wait for the first opportunity to throw their lives away for a ‘good’ cause. Secondly, I’m not convinced that this willingness to die represents idealism at all. In fact it seems like a tremendous waste.” Now it was Hannibal’s turn to frown. “Are you saying you don’t see the beauty in the sacrificial death of the noble Thoroughbred Feline for his country?” Passively I replied, “No. I don’t. I think his time would be better spent trying to understand life. And this idea of nobility that you speciests have… What makes the early Thoroughbred Feline noble but the Lumpen of today primitive? The more I think about it the more similarities I see between the two breeds.” Hannibal’s mouth dropped slightly open. Stepping closer to me he wrinkled his nose and bore his fangs. I looked around frantically but there was nowhere to run to. Hannibal gradually regained his composure. He muttered to himself, “I told Zarathustra this would be a waste of time.” Looking at me he declared, “Animal is something to be overcome! The industrial revolution and necessity of war impelled us to our current level of modernity. We need to move to the next level even if it means a blood bath!” He then sneered, “You animalists are all alike. Your doctrine is a mixture of 90% reason and 10% madness. Socrates fools his listeners into becoming believers by laying bare the inner workings of society to the minutest detail. After he builds a rock solid foundation of trust by revealing mysterious truths, his followers are then ready to accept whatever conclusion he comes up with. Socrates’ conclusions are so fantastical that under normal circumstances one would have to suspend their reason in order to accept it. His followers are all too willing to do this as they have been conditioned to swallow his lies hook line and sinker. I have been sent to deliver a message and I have delivered it. Just remember. Our side will be victorious whether you decide to join us or not. You can let us know your decision on the battlefield. If you stand with us when we invade the Union of Animals then Zarathustra will know where you stand. However if you stay with Socrates and oppose Zarathustra, you will
be wiped out along with the rest of the Union. Think about it!” Hannibal turned and walked out of the room. I stood in place for some time after he left waiting for my heart rate to return to normal.