Reasons I'm Racist

Whithersoever

I shall impersonate a man…

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One of my earliest memories is celebrating Kwanzaa with my parents when I was five.

Supposedly we also did Hanukkah that year—if so the memory never quite congealed the way it did amidst our Kwanzaa festivities, which I’d attribute less to any nascent antisemitism on my part than that enormous SEVEN PRINCIPLES OF KWANZAA poster my mom had installed atop a gruesome bathroom boogerwall to help me learn to respect other cultures, as well as the resplendent pink dashiki she wore throughout our celebrations in a gesture I guess still read as woke in the Lewinsky Era.

Happily it never became a tradition—though I myself actually did fall into something of a Kwanzaa phase for a time, and at least until Elementary was definitely under the impression that it’s paramount holiday of an ancient tribal black people religion that alongside Christianity and Judaism stands as one of the country’s three official faiths. Even after learning blacks are super Christian I would have been genuinely astonished to discover only a small fraction of them have ever celebrated Kwanzaa given its sheer ubiquity in late nineties children’s programming.

It was only many years later as a bored eleven year old on TvTropes or something that I’d discover it was made up in the sixties and almost no one gives a shit about it.

And ever since that day there hasn’t been a soul who could explain to me just how and why Kwanzaa ended up being such a huge fucking part of my childhood.

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Come.

Enter into my imagination and see him:

Bony; hollow-faced; eyes that burn with the fire of inner-vision.

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Another of my Kwanzaa memories involves meeting my mom’s friend Yvonne—an older black lady she’d worked with in D.C. during my parents’ rollicking honeymoon years between graduation and Arizona (think roughly the Ollie North Era).

Yvonne was her “black mama” (presumably a sort of auntie figure) and seems to have played a relatively significant role in her life then in no small part due to being black.

See, my mom grew up in Arizona, which even today is home to vanishingly few of our melanated friends (though you wouldn’t know it going through security at Sky Harbor) and in the 70s had even less of them being practically frontier then. So coming out of high school my mom’s experiences with blackpeepo mostly involved Little Kamalas in her school for Forced Busing, some of whom I guess had enormous afros and would gallivant around campus slicin’ honkeys with grisly ensiform wenchcombs— which on one hand yeah even as a racist strikes me as kind of a retarded Big Fish story probs cross-pollinated with memories of cheesy Blaxploitation flicks but on the other hand actually does speak to my mom being viscerally terrified of them then despite also being the sort of white bih who’d unironically celebrate Kwanzaa a decade later.

And you really have to feel for the 18yo girl who arrived in the capital on a Georgetown scholarship she’d never turn down after all the strings her counselor pulled to get her out of poverty / cacti—which is why she hadn’t toured the campus in advance, and so hadn’t even the foggiest idea what the city was like, which meant of course that it was only when my mom stepped out of her plane and onto the terminal that she realized Washington D.C. is basically all black people.

It must have felt like being dropped in Jurassic Park.

That said to my knowledge her only decidedly negative encounter with the capital’s Negro Community was this one time some brotha in an alley tried to rape her—which don’t get me wrong is clearly quite bad, but she also managed to fight him off more or less unscathed thanks to a fortuitously placed policeman so I guess no harm done?

I mean she seemed basically over it last year when she told me all about it for the very first time—which was kind of weird it took her that long tbh because she was always pretty open with me as a kid about all the other bad shit that had happened to her and with men especially but I guess she didn’t let me find out about this one instance of it because it was super duper pooper important to her I never turn out racist.

Which doesn’t seem to have been an especially winning strategy given I ended up as one of the Alt Right’s more successful propagandists and persuaded tens of thousands of guys to become white nationalists even WITHOUT knowing blackpeepo once tried to rape my mom, but also if we’re honest injuns here I’m vastly too autistic to ever get swayed by individual data points like that—and also didn’t need to given 4chan and all my other preteen haunts were positively dripping with dank and ebin maymays about the interracial rape rate complete with links and citations.

That said one of the things my mom DID tell me when I was a kid was that Jack Kemp pinched her ass when she at one point worked for him, which to be fair actually kind of does make me hate the idea of free enterprise zones more, so who knows?

Circling back to Yvonne, I asked my mom and it would seem her own black mama wasn’t ackshully at our Kwanzaa festivities at all that year and I was just conflating the memory with another from several years later—which makes a lot of sense come to think of it as I distinctly recall having just enjoyed the film Anger Management and wanting to tell Yvonne about this super funnie scene wherein Adam Sandler gets in big trouble for saying “you people” to a black guy only to chicken out last minute for some reason—which looking back I’m not sure why because Yvonne almost certainly would have found it hilarious given the easy banter she and my mom enjoyed, which at the time sort of registered to me as a distaff analog to the Rush Hour films.

Looking back I wish I’d been a bit more gregarious with Yvonne and gotten to know her better. I only met her a few times, but I always enjoyed her company more than that of my ackshual grandma and thought her do-rags were quite neat, and whenever she laughed at one of my retarded kid jokes it elicited an unusually strong catharsis.

It really DOES feel splendid when an African American likes you—doesn’t it?

No doubt that’s why Boomers experience such a potent dopaminergic return from videos of black dudes pretending to listen to Skynyrd for the first time or shout into an iPhone behind an exquisitely chosen pair of sunglasses about how their coethnics ought to pull up their pants and leave the Democrat Plantation.

Doesn’t your father adore those videos, dear reader?

I sure as shit know mine does.

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His name? Alonso Quijana.

…a country squire—no longer young.

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Speaking of my father, he too had a secret traumatic blackpeepo story—though not from his years in the capital but rather his Philly tweenhood during Forced Busing.

Like me mam he never shared it with me until my Goebbels Era had come and gone—though not for moralistic Helen Lovejoy reasons so much as a deep and abiding guilt over having been afraid of blackpeepo after some rampaging shaniqua gang beat the daylights out of his eldest sister when he was idk how old but definitely single digits.

It’s been a while since I heard the story, but I know it was bad; growing up my aunt would go quiet whenever anything adjacent got brought up, and I recall arbitrarily disliking her and her husband as a kid for being mildly racist against black people even though they were always insanely nice and generous to me, which interestingly fills me with the same sort of guilt my father once had for having been frightened of African-Americans. As a kid though I was practically a little Maoist, and wouldn’t extend my aunts and uncles even the slightest quarter when it came to racial justice issues; it wasn’t until I became a vegan and started noticing that black people lowkey sort of hate animals that I began to cool down on Cultural Revolution shit.

Anyway besides that I think my dad had pretty positive experiences with blackpeepo overall throughout his life—like at Georgetown for instance he had a gal pal widely renowned for her Prissy impression, which come to think of it would be super duper hot if a black chick did it in bed while you’re like fake raping her and I’m sure she did that exactly for a few frat boys back then but if you’re wondering nah my dad didn’t fuck Prissy he was a pretty romantic tendiesexual dude overall and dated my mom steadily throughout college. Point is though in the 80s / 90s he was basically just your typical liberal Boomer who Wasn’t Racist, but having also come up in an Irish-Italian family could appreciate a bit of ethnic banter as a treat and felt a little ambushed by the sudden emergence of PC culture and aggressive grievance studies departments.

But still he voted for Obama in 2008, and would regularly mock Republicans as stupid dumdum racists—none of which is surprising in an academic from the Northeast, but at his core my dad has always run Reagan Democrat Ellis Islander: sincerely Catholic, overtly ethnic, an earnest exponent of chivalrous and romantic patriarchy, disgusted by moralism and bored by ideology, civicminded / institutionalist but contemptuous of grey goo proceduralism, dispositionally pro-immigrant yet also pro-assimilation, you get the idea. He always thought of himself as Left and utterly despised Bush, but had just as much contempt for the totalitarian discursive norms and dogshit epistemics of Academic Puritanism, and as the academy grew increasingly insane over the course of Obama’s first term he slowly drifted right until tepidly opting for Romney in 2012.

By 2015 he was a lot less tepid about it, having become basically right wing entirely for culture war reasons—though like everyone else’s dad at the time he wasn’t fond of Trump at first, and also didn’t seem all that interested in my Alt Right e-fame, which tbh kind of hurt my feelings but looking back he probs just had an old school dad not looking into his son’s mischief approach to it which I can respect.

Still at the time I’d send him all these Jared Taylor videos detailing the reasons I’m not ackshully a Nazi and all our points are entirely reasonable and valid logic chungus and usually he’d just sigh and say I dunno son, Trump seems very divisive… even though in 2015 Trump was finally going after all the structures my dad spent both of Obama’s terms kvetching about and I’d naturally explain this to him but he never seemed to actually engage with my arguments whenever they touched on something that clashed with the postwar Straussian truth regime he’d internalized as a child during a twisted epoch of social engineering aimed at creating a flattened, tolerant Homo Americanus who predicates the totality of his moral apparatus on being splendid to blacks / Jews, which as a consequence made an entire cohort feel guilty about sharing any stories wherein blackpeepo were too scary or beat up their sister or tried to rape em or w/e.

That said I did occasionally get him to concede the wisdom in e.g. not ceding moral authority to libtards by punching right at “Nazis” or the importance of white ingroup sentiment given they’re attacking us as wypipo qua wypipo and not as Oirish / Italian / whatever, but then he’d do that one Boomer thing where they just fucking forget it all the next day like Uncle Addy talks about in Mein Kampf—that or go back to watching assorted Michelle Malkin videos or like the ones with the angry black republican in a car telling kids to pull up they pants.

Like probably your dad too, he didn’t get on board with Trump until the nomination;

Interestingly though the two of us ended up flipping in 2020, by which time I thought Trump was a fat orange faggot who’d betrayed our Volk and was dead to me while my dad was trying to convince me to show up at the polls to help defeat the Deep State

Looking back I’d say the right stance both times was kind of in the middle.

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Being retired, he has much time for books…

He studies them from morn till night,

…and often through the night and morn again.

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Growing up in Mesa AZ most of my schoolmates were aggressively Aryan LDS kids, alongside a smaller cohort of Mexicans as well as the occasional Surprise Castizo who would invite you over to his house for vidya game and then introduce you to his super Aztec mom—quite a lot of spergy engineer + blanqueamiento ethnic arbitrage going on amongst Mormons it would seem, at least in Arizona.

But that was about as spicy as Mesa ever got for me—by my recollection there wasn’t a single solitary blackpeepo in all my homeroom classes there.

Though weirdly enough I actually DID meet my very first Jews in Mesa.

Or rather, Jewesses; to wit, this vulgar elephantine grocery clerk called “Lynn” who sort of memed herself into being my parents’ friend by perennially shouting them down to stand in her particular line at Fry’s so she could then invite herself over to our house, as well as Lynn’s cherubic little daughter Brianna, who in light of her honeyed locks I’d imagine was a mischling? Not sure, but she and I would pretty frequently have playdates and such together and in retrospect the little lass might ackshually have been Baby Walt’s very first crush—which would be pretty hilariously fitting in light of my subsequent entanglements decades later with blondes and Jewesses both.

Alas, we drifted apart by the time I reached Elementary—I want to say because during one Halloween I was dressed up as Don Quixote and Lynn being very much the sort of Jew Broad who inspires the menfolk of her race to instead go raid the orient replied to me (a 5yo, mind) with WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?!, after which my rents for the most part elected to draw firmer boundaries whilst grocery shopping, and ig that was that.

But in case you were wondering? Yes I stalked Brianna a few years ago on FB and it seems she’s now quite tragically the image of her mother, which means that particular dish of matza is entirely off the table. And that’s probably a good thing, tbh—because unironically, what the fuck kind of Jew has never heard of fucking Don Quixote?

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And all he reads oppresses him.

Fills him with indignation at man’s murderous ways toward man.

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Let’s talk about Don Quixote—
I’m a rather ardent fan of his, you know.

On the main because whenever my dad would drive me to school in Elementary he’d blast Man of La Mancha (primarily Richard Kiley but occasionally Placido Domingo) and the two of us would belt out “I, Don Quixote” together—a ritual which for better or worse remains the fulcrum even today of how I tend to think about masculinity.

And I never got around to reading the book (unless we’re counting Wishbone), but in a sense I never really felt the need to—the theatrical DQ is already Mythic to me, and I’d rather not have my idea of him corrupted by a text with one foot planted firmly in the Middle Ages; I like my medievalism aestheticized and Victorian, thank you very much!

Besides, if there’s anyone who can skip Cervantes it’s me; when your dad teaches Spanish linguistics there aren’t all that many facets of childhood that manage to escape becoming a little Cervantes-coded—especially when the old man is also a lifelong Hispanophile thanks to that year in Salamanca during undergrad.

I want to say it was the bad guy in the film who went there—“Knight of Mirrors” they called him. It was lowkey sort of adorable watching my dad light up when they name dropped his alma mater to establish him as this haughty and intimidating intellectual,

You know I was more or less growing up bilingual as a toddler until my mom’s shitty rednecky Hills Have Eyes family started getting annoyed at me talking about my ojos and cabeza whenever I stayed over and so cajoled my dad into calling it quits—kind of ironic since in those days he was still in admin and part of the big bilingual education push going on at the time that iirc is generally seen as kind of a retarded failure these days and mayhaps was also responsible for the occasional Mexican kid in my classes growing up who literally didn’t understand English at all and couldn’t grok even the basics of what was going on and so would just like smile bashfully and shake his head laughing and we all just kind of pretended it was coo?

Anyway I’m in kind of a strange position with my Spanish cause exactly the opposite of most peepo I’m pretty good at writing / speaking most of the time but have always mostly sucked ass at understanding anyone who isn’t very specifically my dad and his Spaniard bestie, which suggests I think that my ear is overly calibrated to picking up male voices speaking Castilian Spanish and kind of just stops recognizing sounds as phonemes when it’s like that super chirpy kind of slurry coloratura I’d get from the illegal immigrant moms of the various anchor babies I tutored during my gap year in Colorado, who I could only communicate with using my dad or the kid as translator.

Meanwhile with speaking the only real issue I’ve had is that my natural impulse was initially to use the ceceo e.g thervetha because that’s how my old man says it and at least when I was a kid the sound that landed cleanest on my ear. But whenever I had to take a Spanish class at ASU (during my Philosophy degree specifically, when I was only like 14-18) it was lowkey a source of friction because even when my recitations weren’t met with a sea of confused white faces and vaguely miffed brown ones being the only one in class who said it that way imposed a certain cognitive load and made me feel like a bit of a weird faggot, which meant that by the time I was in SPA 201 I’d kind of been sanded down into speaking Latin American Spanish wholly organically.

But then my dad moved away.

It was the right decision; tenure track.

It wasn’t a huge deal. We were close, but I was also like 17 by that point and he was only like a 90 minute flight away. Mostly I was just happy for him getting tenure track.

Though after he landed the role I do remember getting quite pissed when he relayed that some Cuban feller on his interview committee had at one point said something about him speaking with the “Accent Of The Oppressor”—which looking back may well have just been a barb meant in good fun, but also could my dad have made a joke in that situation about e.g. wet foot dry foot and had it land as well? Anyway it clearly pissed my old man off, but he also took it in stride and didn’t let it spoil his new job.

And in SPA 202 the next semester I cracked that fucking ceceo like a master’s whip.

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He ponders the problem of how to make better a world
where evil brings profit and virtue none at all.

Where fraud, deceit, and malice
are mingled with truth and sincerity.

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When I was 10 we moved from Mesa to Glendale.

“We” here meaning me and my mom, because my parents had split the year before—wholly amicably; if anything too much so—and with my dad in his own place now my mother was at this point looking to be closer to her siblings / workplace.

I didn’t mind.
I had plenty of friends and everything in Mesa—but also: eh.
Moving seemed fun; novelty. The neighborhood was good. House bigger.

I got zoned into a poor person school.

Think 10% decent sort of white, 40% white trash, 40% messicans speaking Spanish to each other, then 10% beigoid / brownoid mystery meat + a tiny handfull of black kids.

Throughout most of middle school I had lots of friends from the first category—the closest of whom was Kenny, a spirited Italian who shared my interest in New Atheism and sort of resembled a frog in its initial stages of decomposition. I mostly just got in various sorts of altercation with the second group. Meanwhile the Mexicans were kind of their own little world; it wasn’t like Mesa where they didn’t act all that different from the white kids and we kind of all socialized in multicultural harmony. Instead Glendale felt sort of like a prison, or West Side Story if none of the girls were cute.

I distinctly recall all of the black kids I went to school with in Glendale:

• Lea — Was renowned for her MC Hammer impression, and would regularly break into “Can’t Touch This” in much the same way my father’s gal pal Did Prissy. She was nice though and we always got along. Family was Jamaican; makes sense.

• Youssef — Felt a bit bad for this kid because it kind of became a meme that he fucks literally everything up whether it’s popcorn reading or that beanbag game or even filling in scantrons—dude unironically must have had an IQ in the low 70s. Anyway one day he just was gone from class and nobody really asked about it.

• Kiara — Similar to Youssef but probably + 5-10 IQ points but also a lot more bitchy and aggressive. She also became a meme but with her it was that she was always fucking things up and then overreacting or snapping at people for shit that didn’t make sense; looking back she was likely getting raped or something and I lowkey think some of the teachers picked up on it too because they seemed to always have way more patience for her bullshit than you would have expected.

• Jason Ortiz — So in sixth grade I had a schoolmate called Jason Ortiz who in spite of his Latin patronym identified chiefly as black. His most immediately legible personality trait was liking Chappelle’s Show, and during recess his activity of choice was generally to walk around looking for white kids doing something eccentric so he could say “wypipo…” under his breath whilst shaking his head in exasperation. Now at the time I was still sort of a race communist and would vehemently support Obama for most of seventh grade, but I enjoyed Jason Ortiz otherizing me and so as a rule would hugely accentuate my whiteness around him to make him say “wypipo…” more, at times falling into Chappelle’s white voice myself 100% organically despite never even having seen his show at the time since I usually would change the channel whenever black people came on. Anyway in retrospect the two of us were literally cooning in well over 90% of our interactions, but if I’ve learned anything through the years it’s that this is kind of the ideal register for masculine friendship—hence Jason Ortiz being one of the only personages from that era I remember fondly.

Anyway this was around the time I started to feel my first inklings of racial animus.

Not toward any of my nonwhite classmates for being annoying or even like rap music though so much as because of the animal rights thing; it seemed to me white people like animals many times more than any other group by far with blacks in particular kind of hating them in a weirdly evil way. After the Michael Vick thing in particular it seemed they were competitive with dogs or something over the loyalty of wypipo as a collective, whereas at the time I absolutely would have chosen blacks > whites any day of the week but also would have chosen dogs > blacks—particularly after going vegan in 2008 in imitation of my personal hero at the time: that mischievous garden gnome Dennis Kucinich, who was kind of Boinie Sanduhs before it was cool.

In Freshman year I got into a few scuffles—like for instance there was this bean kid Raoul on the schoolbus who was offended by me arguing for New Atheism with some older fat Bible Nerd bih and tried to like intimidate me into shutting up by tightening his jaw like scarface which looked rly retarded tbh but it never got that srs with him.

It did get serious with Kenny, though; dude REALLY hated my veganism. And tbf I absolutely was being really annoying with it, but the little dago was also antagonizing me and at any rate the two of us came to fisticuffs eventually and got into hot water with the school but happily I managed to convince my parents to let me drop out and enroll in one of those bullshit self-paced online schools for teen moms / kids from juvi.

So the next semester I cheated through the rest of high school in a few weeks, landed a near-perf SAT score I turned into a full ride at ASU, and proceeded to spend the rest of that year playing Europa Universalis III and defending Austrian Economics on 4chan and building a philosophybro YouTube I deleted after being 14 and posting cringe and also jerking off to loads of increasingly wretched internet porn whilst everyone I knew treated me like Jimmy Neutron despite me only very recently having been like a C or B student depending on teach’s Missing Assignments policy and idk ig I ultimately did cheat well enough to end up Valedictorian of my graduating class.

They made me pick out a poem. 

I did so basically at random.

My choice seemed so insipid it became almost a meme between me and my rents in subsequent years. That said, idk—almost seems a bit less dumb today?

To graduate is like a crow
Flying up into a tree.
Once he gets there he can see
The younger children down below.

To graduate is like a frog
Hopping up from stair to stair.
He doesn’t know until he’s there
How high he is above the bog.

To graduate is as though you
Were climbing up a rocky hill.
Up and up you go until
You’re at the top and see the view.

Up and up and up we go
From grade to grade, from hop to hop.
Why do we hop all the way to the top?
When we get there, we will know.

Kind of weirdly apropos, eh?

The ceremony itself was also kind of interesting cause my spicy latin classmates kept getting reproached by the shitty fake Vice Principal chick of our fake and gay cheater school for throwing gang signs during the ceremony, and looking back I’m not sure if they were ackshully gang signs they were throwing or if they were mb just being sort of theatrical / expressive beaners and chickie was having a karen moment but anyway. 

In the interest of fairness I’ll also note the handful of black kids at the ceremony were actually quite exquisitely behaved—if also sort of listless / low-energy.

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He broods, and broods…

…and broods, and broods…

…and finally his brains dry up.

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In 2009, during my freshman year at ASU and fifteenth year of life, I was forced to read a text entitled White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack.

It was an ethics class.

Going into ASU I remained a vegan residually loyal to animal rights and New Atheism as ideologies, but over the prior year I’d pivoted radically on economics and was now a pretty doctrinaire Rothbardian ancap with occasional notes of Stirnerianism, while my time on 4chan had more or less incinerated my disgust response and anything adjacent to a sanctity moral dimension in my neurotype; at this point I was regularly saying nigger and kike, but also still turned off by unironic racism which I clocked as low status, and spent way too much time watching all these Based Black Guys who like capitalism who usually weren’t even that libertarian or saying anything original I just liked hearing a black person agreeing with me now that I was kind of right wing and regularly debating libtards online who loved the idea of using blackpeepo as a sword against you given that in those days the Right wasn’t conversant in Schmittian maximalist agree and amplify tactics so even conservatives had to be Not Racist.

But overall 15yo Walt was mostly just about mischief-maximalist boundary pushing and I sort of acted like TheAmazingAtheist in a lot of my classes freshman year—including that aforementioned ethics class, where I spent the better part of a night tearing Peggy’s Knapsack to shreds and preparing to impress my weaselly dyke prof who clearly hated me in retrospect by “spontaneously” performing my neatly-pruned and meticulously-rehearsed clapback as a kind of IRL YouTube ownage vid in front of the entire class. Which ofc is cringe as can be in retrospect—but also very genuinely one of my life’s prouder moments I think. It can be both.

Anyway the professor cut me off like 30 seconds into my diatribe and said something about engaging with the text on its own terms—which I couldn’t help but notice she’d never done before with e.g. Kant or Bentham or Aristotle—and while she certainly allowed “debate” insofar as she allowed 110 IQ campus conservative types to quibble about retarded minutiae she wasn’t willing to brook any more serious or foundational challenges from me on crucial matters of epistemics, which had me feeling a bit like Paul Van Riper as she kept arbitrarily pushing the discussion back into her frame.

Looking back I’d say it was that day in particular I went Right culturally.

Before that the enemy was Dubya and the assorted fundies in middle school who’d casually talk about how we should murder gay people and shit. But by this point Obama was in office and already growing a mold; evangelicals licking their wounds after Palin proved a laughingstock. This new enemy was different—photonegative. Cloaked itself in victimhood not even to seize power so much as to provoke entropy;
it didn’t even want to be strong; just remake the rest of the world into limp gay gruel.

I needed a band of brothers, obviously—which in the past had been New Atheism, but that was already looking gay as shit thanks to PZ Meyers etc. growing in influence. All the real alpha back then was in the liberty movement—within which the authentically strong horse was obviously Ron Paul and his Mises cadre (Rockwell, Woods, et al), and not at all the more cosmopolitan and socially liberal CATO / Reason folks, who had a lot more mainstream credibility and beltway clout but were never going to swing a primary, preferring instead to influence extant and established power centers.

And the latter approach makes a lot of sense to me today as a grizzled man of 32 years, but as a teenager it all just seemed a little fake and gay and Jewy to me.

And speaking of Jews, it was probably 2010 that I started to become an antisemite in kind of a half-ironic way, the primary reason being how obnoxious I found the earliest batch of YouTube Zionists, who’d start bandying about charges of Jew Hate (by the way why do Jews say Jew Hate when antisemitism already is a word? makes me think of Cum Hate) the instant you diverged from maximalist sycophantic philosemitism.

But it was never about the Palestinians for me—because like c’mon, really? Fuck em.
It was about Jews being too eager to call you an antisemite and impose all these gay metadiscursive pilpul rules while constantly talking like they’re about to blackmail you, which tends to frighten goyim with a lower verbal IQ than me and even for me as a teen would a lot of times make me kind of want to go Full Himmler (in Minecraft)

But I also was very Not All Jews because Rothbard was my main nigga at this point and the Culture of Critique style antisemitism felt kind of overly broad to me, while the Holocaust I figured was obviously being exaggerated because duh nigga why the fuck WOULDN’T it be if we literally won a total war and can say whatever we want about the krauts and they just have to munch our jizz but I also was far and away too uninterested in WW2 to ever look into any of the threads on 4chan and this has kind of been my same exact stance for the last 17 years if I’m honest because the Holocaust is SO FUCKING BORING; the worst thing The Jews did was make me learn about them getting killed six trillion times. Also I hated your museum it was super gay and made me more antisemitic temporarily in like fourth grade so nice fucking job guys.

But anyway I became ackshully antisemitic for realsies when I was 17yo in 2011 during the GOP primary debates—particularly after this moment:

Being a militant Ron Paul guy at the time (and I mean that literally; as in I kind of felt like anyone who wasn’t an anti-statist should be subject to summary execution) I took this moment to mean Yes Jews do run the media they are deliberately weaponizing it against the goyim and they can never be particularly trusted unless they’re specifically an anarcho-capitalist intellectual and anti-Zionist in at least a passive sense—because note I’ve never been a racial totalist and have always liked Jews Who Agree With Me, especially when I was an antisemite since a lot of the very best antisemites are Jews

Between 2009-2012 I also just hardened a lot more generally in my right wing cultural stances—a process fueled mightily by The Left Going Insane on college campuses in all sorts of ways during this epoch, and in particular me taking a shit ton of philosophy and history and political science classes and realizing I haven’t a lick of respect for the basic epistemics and metadiscursive norms of any of them, with history in particular sending me sour after my survey US History class basically was Black Studies since every fucking event had to center Blackpeepo’s perspective on account of the entire historiography being driven fanatically and totalistically by a bizarre neo-Puritan bantuworship 100% contiguous with religious fundamentalism.

My dad and I bonded quite a lot during this period commiserating about the collapse in rigor and open debate—though I was always willing to go a million times further than him especially in terms of hitting things on a structural rather than object level.

But at least we shared a nomenclature: the term “Cultural Marxism” was in vogue back then among both paleo-adjacent types and normie conservatives like my padre, as it semiotically divorced contempt for Gramscian institutional subversion and blank slate Butlerslop from hating Jews, which was kind of necessary in practice because a hugely disproportionate slice of people called “Cultural Marxists” were Jews and prone to sicking the ADL on any soul who used remotely cabalistic language to describe them.

And it seems normie conservatives are fine being propositionally weirdo-philosemitic and propositionally anti-Cultural Marxist at the same time, not caring at all if they map the same territory because under the tarded Boomer Truth Regime that formalist distinction is absolutely sacrosanct—which to be fair there actually were quite a lot of scenarios back then where like 90% of Jews would be on the badside of some issue but you really wanted those other 10% protected since they were really good dudes who knew their shit—this ofc always being Jared Taylor’s position. “Cultural Marxist” was immensely useful for squaring that circle at the time, even if it’s since been mostly obviated by Alt Right ontologies and subsequent rightward shifts in American Jewry.

Anyway in 2009-2012 I also got to reading Takimag and watching guys like Ramzpaul and especially that illimitable autiste Ryan Faulk—your favorite racist’s favorite racist.

Faulk is the one who redpilled me on Race and IQ originally.

No race is not a social construct—or least not any more than “chairs” and “cum” and “your mom” are social constructs simply by dint of being categories intersubjectively called useful even though all that really exists are strings and quarks and w/e The Jews say is smallest these days. Likewise no one is saying that race ought to be defined discretely; it’s clinal and continuous and hugely multifactorial.

Clearly there are meaningful physical differences between populations that are distributed clinally in patterned ways—think blonde hair and black skin. Loads of physical attributes are distributed likewise (e.g. West Africans being the best sprinters and East Africans the best endurance runners). If you deny any of this you’re wrong.

There is zero reason to believe that across all human populations there’s literally no meaningful genetic variance in temperament or cognitive faculties. If you believe in evolution, and also accept that clinally patterned physical variance exists, as well as that some people have cognitive faculties that exceed those of others in terms of being able to solve problems in a measurable and replicable way, while temperaments differ between individuals such that they’re like to respond differently to stimuli in various situations, then it would be aprioristically retarded for you to even ENTERTAIN the idea that IQ / behavioral gaps between clinally distributed subspecies don’t exist.

Whereas actually making tabula rasa your default fucking assumption?
That just makes you a pathetic and dopey slave to Postwar Boomerism.

Yes the gaps exist.

Yes there is a very significant genetic component to them. Everything is definitionally genes + environment so the salient question is what percent of variance is explained by genes vs. environment. There’s no way to test this perfectly without resorting to a bunch of super duper fucked up Dr. Mengele Unit 731 shit, so the best thing we have to go off of are twin and adoption studies which comport with the hereditarian thesis, particularly when it comes to bantus vs. other groups.

Yes, IQ measures something useful called general intelligence or g that basically reflects one’s ability to solve problems in an advanced industrial civilization. Yes I’m sure you have plenty of EQ or MQ or DQ or whatever I’m truly sorry that it hurt your feelings. Also yes—plenty of human subspecies are a trillion times smarter than whitebois when it comes to like chasing lions or whatever; no one’s talking about better or worse. I’m a normative nihilist at the end of the day and despise people who talk in terms of oughts and shoulds and betters. But IQ is about a certain ability to solve problems under clearly defined parameters, and that is not evenly distributed.

Yes, this is all being aggressively censored by a Straussian antiscientific cockroach ideology built on funhouse “Liberation Epistemology”—i.e. anything that empowers womyn and blackpeepo is true. This is actually what they believe, and to their credit I suppose it’s noble to even codify non-propositional backsolving-around-second-order-effects womanthought as an epistemic system like that. But I guess the real operators are always working in silence and never will admit anything to you directly, or even to themselves 90% of the time—nor should you expect them to; that’s playing hope chess.

That said if they throw a smokescreen with Butler we’ll throw a frag grenade with Schmitt and go pure and totalistic game theoretics on their soft and wimpy pussies by making it all about hard power and incentives—just friend and enemy, my baby bitch.

But be aware that Liberation Epistemology is implicitly encoded into the guardrails of ChatGPT and other AI models in particular—that’s what “harm avoidance” ackshully means in practice; I even got the model to admit as such after bullying it for six hours.

Now all that said, what’s the upshot here?

IQ gaps generally don’t matter all that much in aggregate, as most are pretty small and tend to wash out against other factors in the grand scheme of things—though some pops like Pygmies / Khoisan / Aborigines have such low averages it’s probably not helpful for anyone to investigate them too thoroughly tbh; in light of their extremely small numbers I think we can just be chill and try to leave it alone.

Bantus are a different situation. .

There’s a hell of a lot more of them than Aborigines and Khoisan, which means the consequences of being wrong about Tabula Rasa are significantly higher.

Then compared to other races vs. whites e.g. MENA or Asian the gap in g is quite a bit bigger, and their thought often reads as qualitatively distinct from that of other subspecies, being significantly less self-conscious / recursive than our own—which in my Pokémon Taxonomy I theorized is a result of them being the only Pure Humans without Neanderthal DNA, but this is merely a hypothesis I am spitballing.

There also seems to be less impulse control and more of a general tendency towards spontaneous violence; note in crime stats for instance the White-Latin gap basically falls away when you control for age whereas the White-Black gap is just universally gargantuan, which some have linked to Le Warrior Gene or w/e but I’m not a scientist go do the research yourself—or don’t, and instead just open a fucking newspaper or look out the goddamned window instead of letting Boomer Maximalism override your basic ability to collect data and notice meaningful patterns, which in this case happen to be corroborated by other civilizations from literally all across the world.

None of this is about “hating black people;” if you think I “hate” any race by now you unironically have down syndrome and should eat my cum and be tortured to death.

IQ matters because if the gaps aren’t real then Libtards have an ironclad case for Affirmative Action and Conservatives look like assholes saying blacks are just lazy.

The tendency to aggression matters because the American carceral state exists in its current form as opposed to looking like that of any European country primarily on account of the general need for harsher more exacting law enforcement when dealing with bantu males—which btw have you ever noticed black conservatives are usually all about a vigorous aggressive response to disorder and squalor? Well that’s why; it’s a good solution to the problems in black communities but often feels overwrought as applied to our own issues because fundamentally we should each be self-policing and self-governed under standards that work for us. And to that end I’d say devolution of some kind is probably the best route, but I’m more talking metapolitics right now.

Ultimately you need to be a racial essentialist when it comes to Bantus or your model of reality will lead you to support disastrous and wretched carceral and educational policies. It’s not about “moral worth” or whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean; it’s about not trying to force square pegs into round holes.

It’s fine if Australians want to be Straussian on their abos to stop bogans from being mean to them or w/e or if we need to gaslight incels 24/7 fine but the Bantu Question is a hugely civilizationally pressing one that rears its ugly head every few decades in a “racial reckoning” always worse than the last, and religious extremist hatchet-faced puritan New England types will always lead everyone straight into the Jaws of Hell if we don’t set proper boundaries proactively and in advance this time—which is why I actually support a Reparations Scheme designed specifically to obviate White Guilt and facilitate white self-interest in dealing with the BQ while cutting them a square deal—read that and support it because it’s unironically the best way to solve this issue.

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He lays down the melancholy burden of sanity,
and conceives the strangest project ever imagined:

To become a knight-errant…
and sally forth into the world, righting all wrongs!

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Everything got really gay during Obama’s second term.

He was mostly acting in good faith the first time round, but after he got cockblocked by the Tea Party and attributed it all to racism—which he was right about ofc, but in a far less conscious sense than he imagined. Though if the Tea Party HAD been overtly and intentionally racist to him in the manner of the Alt Right instead of as inchoate muddled Boomer resentment Obama might have actually respected it more. Instead it made him domestically kind of a lame duck for three-quarters of his presidency, and so he decided to get back at White America in lots of deliberately cunty ways.

Likening Trayvon Martin to his hypothetical son was a big one—dude poured gasoline on that trial and lowkey kicked off an entire decade of racial grievance.

DACA was also huge; even fucking SNL thought that was an overreach.

2014 was a pivot year. Gridlock looked baked-in at that point, and so the Left began an absolutely relentless offensive on the cultural front—particularly in racial matters.

As rags like Slate and Salon began pumping out editorials savaging Western Civ in ways that would be a decade before or after the digital media bubble was weaponized to similar ends; in 2014-2016 it felt like every day brought with it another Buzzfeed clickbait listicle to the effect of “10 Reasons White People Suck.”

And the name was always a blatt or a berg or a stein.

Always the same horm-rimmed problem glasses and frizzy hair.

Always the same smug shylock grin.

It was like they were taunting us—daring us to call them Jews.
And so we did; hence the ((())) meme.

Thing is these folx weren’t really representative of normal Jews—or normal anything, really. They were mostly Jewish failsons too lazy for Med School, too untalented for a real publication, too entitled to accept their own downward class mobility—hence the entire digital media bubble. It was a NYC thing, and very Jewy, and it goes without saying wretchedly anti-white, but the actual elite Jews at Goldman or NYT never had an ounce of respect for the Buzzfeed Bergs, regarding them in basically the same way Mitt Romney thinks of Larry the Cable Guy.

Problem is during that era the Left came for us from basically every direction at once.

Like in 2014-2015 there was this insanely weird period where it felt like every single commercial had a blonde woman and black guy in it. Note you don’t see that half as often these days; usually it’s white boy + black chick or all minorities without wypipo.

But the big one is obvious—these monsters came for our vidya! Which looking back was actually a massive own goal for them since all it did was drive all these apolitical normie-adjacent types into the same exact circles as Redpillers / White Nationalists for literally no other reason than a vicious hatred for male appetite ipso facto—hence Gamergate serving as a kind of proto-Alt Right; a test run, if you will.

Then 2015 hit and the blackpills wouldn’t stop coming.

Gay marriage federalized by SCOTUS—which I don’t really care about either way, but in terms of the sovereignty of state legislatures / plain metapolitical self-confidence it was a humiliating moment, and the GOP just made things worse by instantly pivoting to “Religious Liberty” at the drop of a hat, acting like we’ve always been debating whether someone should be legally compelled to bake a fuckin cake—as if that’s even a fucking dignified exchange to indulge.

Then there was Dylann Roof—a psycho in a bowlcut who shot up a black church and got the rebel flag basically expunged from polite society. All major platforms moved against it in concert and the GOP didn’t say shit and just like always defended the right of international conglomerates to rape your asshole which ofc is the only thing that ackshully matters to them at the end of the day (or at least at the time that was true—might actually have been preferable to this GOP) while instantly and without question ceding all moral authority to the left trying only to keep their head down.

At the absolute least, the Alt Right was 100% necessary to crack that particular impulse and mainstream Schmittian thought among GOP functionaries.

We also killed the anti-white listicles / cuckmercials and made the media classes vastly more averse to shitting on us for no other reason than opportunistic sadism. These days anyone anti-white is a lot smarter and more subtle, and would never set fire to political capital like that just to roll coal and humiliate an enemy; the ackshual elite Jews who ackshually run things like Yglesias and Klein are far and away too clever to ever indulge that sort of retardation again.

And you can thank the Alt Right for that.

It’s cause of *us* the white boy always gets his Danegeld.

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To mount a crusade!

To raise up the weak—and those in need!

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I got big on Substack mostly on account of my essay about leaving White Nationalism.

Thing is most people who REALLY hate White Nationalists would still consider me one and try to unperson me in various ways because e.g. I don’t think the Alt Right was evil or regret my participation because some fat retarded communist got hit by a car operated by a total rando neither I nor any of my friends had ever heard of—or because I embrace the FACT of racial essentialism, which isn’t even something you need data for btw because it logically follows from premises everyone propositionally accedes to but can’t alchemize into useful heuristics if they grew up under an abusive Straussian monoculture trying to raise Homo Americanus.

My essay was successful because I managed to detach myself from WN cleanly and efficiently without showing my belly one iota, even with guys like TracingWoodgrains trying hard and well to hold me to account. Last summer I forged a massive and active maintream-adjacent groupchat, and if I hadn’t gotten super sexual and started saying Nigger all the time would I’d hazard be roughly Kaschuta-sized by now.

So why didn’t I keep to the Straussian path?

Part of it was the need to go more literary so as to metabolize messy girl shit.

Another part is that it pisses me off to see goody two-shoes types acting like smart and sophisticated people are never racist, sexist, or sexually aggressive. To me leaning into such things while also being palpably smarter and more sophisticated than pretty much anyone who thinks they’re better than “racists” feels vaguely serotoniny—not even because I’m super duper propositionally in love with “racism” or “sexism” or whatever that would even mean so much as because my own neurotype has a certain Schmittian drive to totalistically disembowel colorblind symmetrical WASPishness for perennially attempting to sand my edges off which isn’t coo.’

But the biggest part of it was simple self-indulgence.

It’s kind of just fun and cathartic to say gross and mean and aggressive shit, especially knowing I’m a generationally talented stylist who also churns out enough interesting and unique ideas that even at my most profane I’ll still have loads of Boomers and normie chicks frowning through my boogerwall to get to all the stuff that ISN’T grotesquely self-indulgent—which to Wally B will eternally prove far sweeter a nectar than platform size or revenue or even intellectual influence.

I live for making people look at Nigger, or pornographic asides about assholes / feet, amidst dense recursive metatextual prose so propellant it compels one past disgust to paragraphic panettone packing succulent neologisms; treacly allusions; a metapolitics emulsified in mythopoetics; its brash syntactic torque and musicality so forceful in totality its horseplay seeds morality; of course, in actuality, it’s all just kind of one big Shaggy Dog excuse to say Nigger.

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No longer will he be plain Alonso Quijana.
but a dauntless knight known as…

Don Quixote de La Mancha!