Begging and choosing

True to form, the ‘migrants’ from Central America who are massing at our Southern “borders” are making the usual demands.

These people are at worst, invaders and thus by definition criminals, or at best, they are beggars and chancers, with an arrogance that doesn’t befit their status. When you are trying to force your way into someone’s home, you are in no moral position to issue ”demands” to those whose hospitality and wordly goods you crave.

This situation need never have developed, if only our folk — I mean, everyday people, not our so-called leaders — had not been too willing to look for the best in everyone, even those whose intentions are not good.

These too-trusting, too ‘nice’ people may not be the majority amongst White Americans, but they seem to typify the response of a lot of us towards Hispanic people in general. Think of it: our history records that we have for a long time had a mutually hostile relationship with many of our neighbors in Latin America, most especially Mexico. Yet we’ve stood by ineffectually as increasing numbers of Latin Americans have come here, legally or otherwise, ostensibly to ‘help’ us with picking crops or doing other such manual labor.

Since the reign of political correctness has been established, more and more Americans have been taught lies and feel-good ‘brotherhood’ platitudes while back in the realm of reality, Latin Americans continue to show animosity towards us, while many well-intentioned White Americans still believe in the ‘hard-working, family-oriented’ stereotype promoted by George W. Bush and his ilk. Due to this pollyannaish, inclusive tendency of many White Americans, intermarriage between Hispanics and Whites have become more common in recent years, most often between White men and Hispanic women. Our folk have become more accepting of this in part because of the relentless propaganda preaching ‘colorblindness’ and the usual ”all one race, the human race.”

With the huge influx of Latino immigrants, many of us have gradually become more complacent about it through sheer familiarity, even in places which until fairly recently had few to no Latinos resident there.

Exposure to ”diversity” does inure people to the presence of many different ethnicities, and thus our innate wariness of outsiders is weakened, and because people can find some trivial way in which outsiders are ‘really just like us’ under the skin, we have become much more tolerant, to the point of being complacent and jaded about being increasingly surrounded in our country.

There is a somewhat heightened sentiment lately against this perpetual influx of Latin Americans, but for many White Americans, the only objection they can muster up is that the immigrants are mostly illegal. Somehow many people can’t get the message that the problem is immigration per se, not ”legal vs. illegal.” If someone had told me, some 12 years ago when I first began blogging, that in 2018 so many White Americans would still not get it, and would still be harping on the ‘legal vs. illegal’ red herring, I would not have believed it. Why is it that so many Americans are still stuck on that point, repeating it ad nausaeum, like parrots? Media lies and propaganda are a large part of the reason, but maybe it’s something in Americans, whether in our natures or in our upbringing and culture, that predisposes us to be pushovers for ‘victims’ or underdogs, or to think that learning to speak English will erase any significant differences between us and Hispanics, or any other immigrant groups.

We see similar processes taking place throughout all European and European-descendant countries, not just our own.

If I say that we are too trusting, too nice, too eager to ‘get along’ with everyone, can it be innate in us, this behavior? Certainly our forefathers, even up until mid-20th century, were not so ‘welcoming’ and passive, so it can’t be a genetic thing.

Regardless of the cause of this enfeebling of our society, and our inability to envision simply ‘sending the migrants home’, we will have to recover our forefathers’ strength and their determination to put their folk and their land ahead of the supposed obligation to foreign peoples who brazenly demand we surrender our land and our children’s future. The moment of truth is now; do we submit to the demanding, hostile beggars at our borders or will we choose our own people, putting them and posterity first?

Celebrating our independence

I trust you all enjoyed a pleasant Independence Day, though with each year the question “just what we are celebrating?” insistently recurs in my mind.

For a lot of Americans it seems as though we are celebrating just out of habit, or just for the sake of celebrating — with the customary fireworks, barbecues, parades — but for some of us the day has assumed overtones of mourning — mourning what has become of our country, mourning for what should have been but now is not.

If we choose, we can look back at the genuine accomplishments and heroism of our forefathers in creating this country, though it seems fewer Americans each year are inclined to do that. Cynicism on the part of many on the right is the order of the day, and I seem to see as much bitterness towards our forebears from the ‘right’ as from the left. No matter which way you cut it, that is sad. No matter how wrong America has gone in this ‘grand experiment’ that we call our country, is there really any comfort in denouncing the Founders of this country? Does it serve any useful purpose? I say it doesn’t; if we are truly ethnonationalists or ethnopatriots there has to be something in our history and our folk that we can love and defend. Of course we have to separate our nation (and our folk; they are one) from our government, which does not represent us, nor does it seem to care about our safety and happiness.

But must we trash the past and the people who made our country? I can’t take part in that, though I am decidedly not one of those people the right (and left) disparage as ‘patriotards.’

Even the use of names like ‘patriotard’ is an example of jaded cynicism, something I dislike, especially if I find it growing in my own heart.

Pat Buchanan, in a very good article, asks the question of whether we are still a nation. In my opinion it’s one of the best things he’s written lately, though I often felt he did not ‘go far enough’ in the past in addressing some issues.

I think most of us would agree that the country, as we know it today, does not embody a true nation, a people descended from a common ancestry and with shared history and culture. But there is still a core, a remnant, that exists. Those who are part of this know it, and it is to this that we should and must be loyal. Cynicism and bitterness are not motivating influences; instead they seem to lead to apathy and resignation, and to a perverse kind of superiority feeling based on being above the simple-minded ‘normies’ or ‘Murkans.’ Nothing positive can be built on this.

I don’t know what the future of this ‘Republic’ of ours holds; I am sorry to say I am not as optimistic as I once was (though my optimism was always cautious and tempered by realism). I don’t know that we have any cause to celebrate on Independence Day except to remember our forebears and their great efforts and sacrifices for our benefit, and the fact that their posterity failed to ‘keep’ the Republic they created for us is to our discredit, not theirs.

 

Remembering ‘vanishing’ America

Porter at Kakistocracy has a very evocative post titled In Memoriam, consisting of images of the ‘old America’. Don’t miss it.

The many beautiful photos show what a rich and yes, ‘diverse’ life we had in this America in the pre-multicultural days. Those pictures are very much in keeping with the theme of my old blog; I think the inspiration I have lost since then is due to the lack of that anchor in the past. It’s easy to lose one’s moorings in this bizarro world in which we live. We need the past; without that to hold onto, we are amnesiacs.

There are always the cynics who say ‘you can’t live in the past; you can’t turn the clock back’, but without some image and some ideal to which we can look for inspiration, it’s hard to want to go on with this existential struggle we find ourselves in.

Maybe we can never have our (and yes, I said our) America back, not the America that existed in those photos, and in the memories of those who were alive then, but it’s an image we can cherish, imperfect though it was. All is not lost, although it may seem so at times.

America as it was, the real America, the old America, lives as long as there are those of us who were part of it still here, and as long as there are some who still honor what that country was. America, as Walt Whitman said, is you and me.