LAURA L. M. writes:

I’ve kept up with your work in the last two years as somewhat of a lifeline. I homeschooled my sons before and during the “lockdown” and did my level best to keep life as normal for them as possible. Still, the pervasive fear tactics made me grateful for your site to remind me there was more to the story than met the eye.

As the insanity winds down, I find myself looking at our nation. What a spoiled bunch of children we are. Such shallow lives we’ve led, with our focus on shiny objects and entertainment. I have lost interest in mass entertainment because I find it dull and filthy. No wonder we allowed this charade to continue for so long. It’s like being in a horror movie and our society enjoys horror movies.

I move forward, though. I prefer that to the alternative. Thank you for the dose of reality along the way. (more…)

THE FEDERAL Writers Project collection of slave narratives in the Library of Congress is a national treasure.

These first-hand accounts, assembled from 1936 to 1938 by interviewers hired by the Works Progress Administration, offer a realistic view of slavery in America, of a time when blacks and whites lived and worked together, for better or for worse.

Many slaves, while condemning slavery, attested to being well-treated by their masters. Many attested to being whipped. Many were honest about the faults and bad habits of their fellow slaves. In general, it’s hard to imagine these raconteurs partaking of the whiny tears and tantrums of today’s agitators. They often come across as earthy and wise personalities who tell their stories of slavery, war, greedy Yankees and post-war chaos without self-pity, envy or hatred. An early director of the oral history project was John Lomax, a white Southerner, who deserves great credit for insisting the narratives not be edited or censored in any way.

Ex-slave Millie Barber, of Winnsboro, South Carolina, was among those who shared her story. The most egregious part of her colorful narrative relates to her parents being separated on different plantations:

“Hope you find yourself well dis mornin’, white folks. I’s just common; ‘spect I eats too much yesterday. You know us celebrated yesterday, ’cause it was de Fourth of July. Us had a good dinner on dis 2,000 acre farm of Mr. Owens. God bless dat white boss man! What would us old no ‘count niggers do widout him? Dere’s six or seven, maybe eight of us out here over eighty years old. ‘Most of them is like me, not able to hit a lick of work, yet he take care of us; he sho’ does.

“Mr. Owens not a member of de church but he allowed dat he done found out dat it more blessed to give than to receive, in case like us.

“You wants to know all ’bout de slavery time, de war, de Ku Kluxes and everything? My tongue too short to tell you all dat I knows. However, if it was as long as my stockin’s, I could tell you a trunk full of good and easy, bad and hard, dat dis old life-stream have run over in eighty-two years. I’s hoping to reach at last them green fields of Eden of de Promise Land. ‘Scuse me ramblin’ ’round, now just ask me questions; I bet I can answer all you ask. (more…)

"IN times of desolation, God conceals Himself from us so that we can discover for ourselves what we are without Him." - St. Margaret of Cortona  

"A GENTLE KNIGHT was pricking on the plain, Yelad in mighty arms and silver shield, Wherein old dints of deep wounds did remain, The cruel marks of many a bloody field; Yet arms till that time did he never wield. His angry steed did chide his foaming bit, As much disdaining to the curb to yield: Full jolly knight he seem'd, and fair did sit, As one for knightly jousts and fierce encounters fit. But on his breast a bloody cross he bore, The dear remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead as living ever him ador'd; Upon his shield the like was also scor'd. For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had: Right faithful true he was in deed and word, But of his cheer did seem too solemne sad; Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. --- Edmund Spenser, The Faery Queen  

"IF ever you have a fit of sadness or trouble, remember that it is because you are still attached to life, or health, or some comfort, or person, or thing that you ought to forget and despise, that you may desire Jesus Christ only." — St. Claude de la Colombière (H/t: @TempusFugit4016)  

THOUGH I oppose the systematic defamation of the white race that is growing ever more intense by the day, especially now that even “nice whites” are considered racist and lacking in moral legitimacy as human beings, now that even a painting of apples or pears in a bowl is considered an expression of disgraceful domination of humanity, and though I believe it is my absolute duty to oppose this systematic defamation and that those deracinated whites who support it are committing nothing less than treason against their ancestors, I do not consider myself or call myself a “white nationalist.”

Not that anybody cares what this unimportant blogger calls herself. But let me explain. For the record.

To call myself a “white nationalist” would imply that 1) I hold the white race above all else 2) that my devotion to my nation is a kind of religion.

I call myself a patriot. That’s all, a patriot. (more…)

ALAN writes: When the central St. Louis Public Library opened in 1912 and for many years afterward, there were thousands of books in the building, but there were no screens in the modern sense of that word.  The only “screens” in the building were those that people — staff and patrons alike — carried with them in their head:  The “screen” of imagination, a phrase I use with extreme reluctance because it is so unfair to the capacity of imagination, which includes the capacity for conceptual thought, comprehension, reason, and memory. Today, a century later, there are more than 150 screens in that building, including those for staff, reference and catalog, those with Internet access for patrons, and six oversize screens used for cutesy, colorful, trendy, and always-politically-correct signs and scenes, the purpose of which is to “catch the eye” (or to assault the imagination, depending on one’s perspective). To glamorize the Here, the Now, the Concrete — represented on screens, is effectively to diminish the abstract, the conceptual, the past — represented in books with words. That is why Americans are now taught to incorporate screens into every part of their homes and lives.  It is all part of the calculated dumbing down that the late American patriot Charlotte Iserbyt chronicled extensively in her excellent work.  It is why books and magazines are increasingly designed to resemble comic books, and why libraries and bookstores are overstuffed with picture books for children: …

"THE rule of a tyrant aims not at the good of a community, but at the private advancement of the ruler .... who encourages dissensions and sedition in the nation subject to him in order to maintain his own control with more safety. For this is tyranny, since it aims at promoting the interests of the ruling power to the detriment of the nation." -- St. Thomas Aquinas  

A YOUNG WOMAN goes to her local "urgent care" center suffering from symptoms of the flu: fever, aches, congestion. She is "tested" for Covid-19. The test results are negative. But the doctor tells her -- this is a true story -- that she must have Covid-19: "It couldn't be anything else." This makes me wonder. Is it possible there is only one disease? Maybe every person who has ever died has died of Covid-19.  

"WHAT impressed you on seeing her was an air of candor, innocence, modesty and reserve that completely enveloped her and radiated from her through her eyes, her attitude and her bearing." -- Quoted in St. Bernadette Soubirous: 1844-1879 by Abbé François Trochu