THE Virginia governor’s wife leading students around the governor’s mansion made the mistake of asking a teenager to imagine the experience of a slave:

The tour guide handed raw, prickly cotton to some young black students who were part of a group visiting the oldest operating governor’s mansion in the country, one that was built with slave labor. She asked them to imagine what it would be like to be a slave picking the crop.

What made the request only more shocking, a mother of one of the children said, was who was asking it: Pam Northam, the wife of Ralph S. Northam, the embattled governor of Virginia, who is trying to repair his relationship with African-Americans after a scandal over a racist yearbook photo and an admission of wearing blackface.

But, taking all this seriously if you can (more and more the news reads like it was written by bright 14-year-olds and the normal adult has to strain to adopt the same mentality and immaturity just to understand what is going on), wouldn’t Mrs. Northam have been wrong to have handed the cotton to a white student?! (more…)

  IN THE ANCIENT and evil past, men were men (even when they wore frou-frous) and women were women. It's true! Horrible!

  "THE thing now with modernist art that has dominated for so long is that we have no more art. Most museums of modern art for me could be closed down without any interest. My test is always this: if you take a piece of so-called modern art and you put it next to the dumpsters and rubbish in the courtyard and it is taken away, it’s not art – because anyone with any sensitivity or any intelligence will recognize a work of art. It has something more about it than just rubbish. This is where I come to the parallel of music and architecture. Building a very large complex is symphonic work. If you build a large complex over twenty or thirty years – like building a town – you need some discipline which is going to ensure that there will be harmony of parts despite the contrarianism of the users who are going to inhabit it. You need some simple discipline, which can be understood and shared by a large number of people. That is what traditional architecture was about; and that is why we have these incredible treasures of traditional architecture still surviving, despite the will to deform or to destroy them or to wipe them out." --- Leon Krier, "The Fear of Backwardness"

  "[T]HE DIVINE must work within me in the same conditions as the human does now. Like the needle of a compass the soul must be set and magnetized so as to point constantly towards God, and finally to be fixed on Him. Then I shall have reached perfection, and I shall go to God as easily, as readily, I was about to say, as naturally, as I now go towards myself. Oh, when will this be? . . . In fine, there is almost an entire subversion to be made. My whole life has to be more or less revolutionized: my thoughts, feelings, and actions have to be turned upside down. It is the deep and radical modification of my hitherto too human manner of seeing, loving, and acting. I must form new notions about everything, new feelings about everything, and a new behaviour with regard to everything. The old man must be stripped off once for all and the new man must be put on. How deep are these simple words : seeing, loving, and seeking God in all things, and all things for God ! . . . Without knowing or reflecting on it, by the inclination of my nature, I have come to see, love, and seek everything for self. The place unduly assigned to my own satisfaction must now be given to the glory of God. What a work ! It is only when the latter…

  IN RECOGNITION of Black History Month, let's remember just how tragic the effects of revolutionary music, degenerate movies and pornography have been on American black communities since these musicians of the 1940s performed. Warning: There is immodesty from minutes 1:30 to 1:40. (Don't miss the harpist at the end!)  

SOME THOUGHTS from the Z blog:

Because I am not insane, I assumed the Jussie Smollett caper was a hoax as soon as it made the news. It ticked all the boxes of a hoax. The alleged victim was a black Jewish homosexual, who makes a living as a drama queen. The alleged incident happened in Chicago, where the last racist redneck was last seen in the 19th century. The incident happened in a part of town that caters to deviants like Smollett, not MAGA hat wearing Trump supporters. Again, only a nut would accept the story at face value.

Similarly, once the hoax was made plain, I knew the believers on the Left, by which I mean everyone on the Left, would go through the usual phases that they always pass through when confronting disconfirmation. (more…)

  IN a health food supermarket the other day, I noticed in front of me in the check-out line a woman with a huge assortment of of organic vegetables and fruits. There were turnips and sweet potatoes and apples and avocados, to mention a few, each one picked out separately. Everything was blameless. There was not a single transgression against healthy eating. The woman was very thin and spent more than $170. She looked to be in her late fifties, so it was unlikely she was feeding a whole family. And yet there was one jar of baby food -- mashed, organic carrots. Perhaps that was for some vegetarian elixir, a magical potion that when mixed with other virtuously-produced vegetables and fruits could extend life indefinitely. Two days later, I had breakfast in a diner --- one of those highway restaurants where each plate of food would be enough to feed four people in bygone years. The chicken and waffles came with a mountain of sizzling, fried drumsticks. Most of the items on the menu would supply half the recommended daily calories for a grown adult. One adorable boy sat before his huge platter of eggs and potatoes. He was about eight and he looked happy, very happy. He was also seriously over-weight. A couple who had eaten got up to leave as we were waiting for our food. They were wearing tent-like T-shirts and sweatpants. What else could they wear?…

PERSONS who keep themselves low in their own estimation and love to be considered of little account and despised by others please God in the highest degree; and, therefore, He willingly lowers Himself to them, pours upon them the treasures of His graces, reveals to them His secrets, invites and draws them sweetly to Himself. Thus, the more one lowers and abuses himself before men, the more he rises and becomes great in the sight of God, and the more clearly he will, one day, behold the Divine Essence. --- Thomas à Kempis

THE interesting Victorian advice book, Home Whispers to Husbands and Wives (The American Female Guardian Society, New York; 1859) by “Melva” contains some wise words on the important subject of the “fretful wife.” Victorian writing is flowery and effusive compared to modern style, but it often expresses passion and common sense. How many fretful women have given homemaking a bad image — and indirectly encouraged the feminist revolt? We will never know. Surely many. The only appropriate response to this essay for fretful women is — to fret about being fretful.

FRET, fret—scold, scold, from morning to night, in haste or leisure, when it rained or the sun shone; Mrs. More always found something to find fault about, something to dislike.

She began it when she was a child; her mother fretted and she learned the art. She practised her lessons well as she grew up. She carried the habit with her into the home of her married life, and scarcely kept it out of sight during the honey-moon. After she became a mother, she found occasion to fret every day and almost every hour of her life, till she came to be the most accomplished fretter that we knew.

She was handsome—at least she might have been, but fair and regular features will look ugly, when the scowl of peevishness mars them. She was smart, and efficient in the management of her domestic afi’airs. Her house was a model of order, and the Ways of her household were well looked after, but I have seen more comfort, where there was less system. She was intelligent and when the demon, that enthralled her, slumbered for a little, and her fine features were irradiated with the smile and glow of social cheerfulness, she would seem to be a most engaging woman. She was self-sacrificing. Her ease and preferences she would yield to the good of others, but the most precious offerings she laid on the altar of love, she would baptize with the unholy waters of fretfulness and complaint, till the valueof the benefaction was wholly lost, or greatly marred to the recipient. (more…)

    

JUDGING from the universal, ecstatic acclaim his death at the age of 85 has prompted in seemingly every organ of the major media, his highly cultivated image as a black-clad high priest, the hyper-extravaganzas he made of fashion shows, his Babylonian worship of his cat, his disordered sexuality, his political comments, his entourage of “Karl’s boys,” including a child — his “godson;” his closeness with the trashiest of celebrity idols, his disdain for “curvy” and “fat” women, his celebration of androgyny, his movies portraying repressive Europe giving birth to multiculturalism, material excess and orgies; his famous secrecy and his success in creating a global empire which throttled competitors, the fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld was an insider like few people are. He was certainly at the very apex of the sordid powers behind, and in front of, the scenes.

Did he make some beautiful and even feminine clothes in his lengthy career? Yes, he did.

Was he talented? Undeniably.

But Lagerfeld, who designed for Chanel and Fendi and made fashion lines for retailers such as Macy’s and H&M, also spread a true disdain for femininity and played a major part in creating the ugly, occult trampy-ness that is everywhere:

So enamored was he with the physique of the skinny, adolescent male, it is entirely plausible that many of Lagerfeld’s models in recent years weren’t women at all.  In any event, some of them certainly looked like men or boys in make up and dresses. The facial bone structure and body of Kristen McMenamy (strange name), to take one example, are highly masculine:

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  Only in Sleep Only in sleep I see their faces, Children I played with when I was a child, Louise comes back with her brown hair braided, Annie with ringlets warm and wild. Only in sleep Time is forgotten— What may have come to them, who can know? Yet we played last night as long ago, And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair. The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces, I met their eyes and found them mild— Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder, And for them am I too a child? Hear this poem by Sara Teasdale set to music in a choral composition by Latvian composer Ēriks Ešenvalds here:    

  HUMILITY, which Christ recommended to us both by word and example, ought to include three conditions. First, we are to consider ourselves, in all sincerity, worthy of the contempt of men; secondly, to be glad that others should see what is imperfect in us and what might cause them to despise us; thirdly, when the Lord works any good in us or by our means, to conceal it, if possible, at the sight of our baseness, and if this cannot be done, to ascribe it to the Divine Mercy, and to the merits of others. Whoever shall attain to this humility, happy is he! And to him who shall not attain it, griefs will never be wanting. -----    St. Vincent de Paul

MONIKA SCHAEFER is back in her home town of Jasper, Canada after having spent ten months last year in a German prison. She was convicted on several counts of “incitement to hatred” for making this video. In the video, she apologizes to her deceased German mother for blaming her as a child for the events of World War II.  She says Germans have been taught to despise their heritage. Schaefer was arrested while visiting Germany in December, 2017. With good humor and no real bitterness, she describes her arrest, trial and imprisonment here. German trials are not up to our legal standards in America. For one, there are no court stenographers or recording devices. Spoken testimony is not put on the record. Also, if a defendant says something politically objectionable in the course of defending himself, he may be charged with more crimes.

Schaefer is a violinist and a former Green Party candidate for local office. That this unimportant woman of no political consequence or wealth has managed to irritate some of the most powerful people on earth should be a consolation to us. For it demonstrates at the very least that ideas matter. She has said several times that she is glad for her experience in prison. It will be interesting to see if she is allowed to remain free in Canada. After all, we know the concept of forgiveness does not exist when it comes to modern thought criminals. There is nothing they can say, nothing they can do, short of complete and total retraction, to expunge their crimes. NOTE: I do not endorse everything the Schaefer siblings say. They sometimes slip into biological determinism. They do not have a comprehensive view because they do not grasp the divine plan for society.

At her blog, Schaefer attributes her interest in the events of World War II to another Canadian German, Ernst Zündel, who died in Germany  in 2017. He spent seven years in prison in Germany and Canada. (more…)

  DR. E. MICHAEL JONES discusses social engineering in America and Europe. Dr. Jones's interpretation of the heretical Vatican II Council is deeply flawed, but otherwise this is an outstanding interview.  

ALAN writes:

One day more than forty years ago, a friend and I were seated in a restaurant, working hard on pie, coffee, and conversation.  The Muzak was on, but it was not so loud as to be annoying.  At one moment a particular melody caught my ear.  It was a recording by Andre Kostelanetz, if I recall correctly, and it imparted a wonderful feeling of uplift.  I had heard it before but could not remember its name at that moment.  So I asked my friend, who was twelve years older.  He knew it immediately.  It was Victor Young’s composition “Stella by Starlight” from the 1944 motion picture “The Uninvited”.  He knew it partly because it is a beautiful melody and partly because ghosts were an element in that motion picture.  It was one of those moments that live in memory.

It was one of many such conversations in which we talked about ideas, philosophy, science, language, and matters on the borderland of science, like telepathy, ghosts, and haunted houses.  Our discussions ranged from hoaxes to J.B. Rhine’s work on ESP to C.E.M. Hansel’s critical assessment of that work to Borley Rectory, which was said to be the most haunted house in England.

The restaurant was demolished years ago and my friend died three years ago.  I had occasion to remember him and that moment in that restaurant when I watched “The Uninvited” several months ago.

I have searched in stores for old motion pictures the way other collectors look for old books.  It is a delight to find such gems on shelves filled with the motion picture rubbish of recent years:  Islands of decency in a vast ocean of effluvia. (more…)