What does it mean when a man is “nice”? It sounds like a compliment, no? Well it’s actually an insult.
In short, it means that he’s polite; he smiles a lot…he’s not intimidating.
Nice indicates a surface greeting, a casual exchange. It’s equivalent to Southern hospitality. It shows that he’s learned the basic structure of human interaction. It’s like getting an award at school for attendance. You achieve the basic, which is nothing.
My dear readers, always remember this: GREAT MEN ARE NOT NICE.
A friend used to tell me, “When you meet a man, you should feel something pushing back against you. You should feel the energy of resistance.”
A great man is defined by his allegiance to lofty ideas, by his desire to pursue a passionate goal. His spirit is a guitar solo by Eddy Van Halen. His energy is red wine, spilling over the cup. He fires a cannon at the island of insecurity. He’s a captain on the ship of confidence.
And the great man’s enemy is the weakling – aka, the “nice” man. The “nice” man surrenders to the challenge, agrees to be ordinary. The “nice” man shuffles into the distance. His spirit is dejected and peevish. His energy is confusion. The best he can do is “nice”…because he has nothing else!
There’s an old cliche…”Nice guys finish last.” But it really means “Weak men are eventually exposed.” They can only hide for so long. Eventually, their dim lighting is replaced by the fires of a great man.
Six years ago, I lost a dear friend; his name was Dave.
He was 46, divorced, and had no children. His second marriage was on the rocks and he had recently lost his job. Dave was in a bad place, so he went home and overdosed on a combination of Soma and alcohol.
I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years. But for some reason, his death hit me the hardest. Dave had a beautiful laugh, a charming personality. His heart was deeper than the Grand Canyon. And to this day, I can’t believe he’s gone.
A week after he died, I had a dream about him. The phone rang, so I picked it up. He was on the other line, chatting away like normal. I waited for him to pause, but he continued. After a few minutes, I interrupted his story.
“Dave, are you still alive? Brother, tell me you’re still alive!”
The phone began to break up with static.
“I’ve got to go,” he said. “I’ve got to go…”
I woke up immediately. The dream was so real, so vivid. His voice was still ringing in my ear.
That was six years ago.
Male friendship is a sacred bond; it’s the backbone of a great nation. Unfortunately, its downplayed in today’s world. So much of the focus is on male/female dynamics – romantic love being the new altar of worship. What’s lost in this shuffle is the tremendous value of male friendship. The kinship that emerges between a band of brothers. I’m glad I’ve been able to experience it. And I’m glad that the Lord has placed excellent people in my path.
Yesterday, I watched Terminator 2 on the television screen of my gym. I reflected on how many times the movie has been replayed. Now I’m not a movie buff, but I must have seen it at least fifty times.
So the question hit me: Why do we only see Terminator 2? The first movie was excellent, and it was the original no less! So what gives? After pondering the question, the answer became obvious.
Terminator 2 is Continually Replayed Because it Promotes a Feminist Agenda
To the casual observer, this might sound crazy. They’ll point out that Terminator 2 has great special effects and high-action scenes. And both of these are true. Yet they’re overlooking an important point – movies are only promoted if they undermine the traditional Western family. Remember, we are in the middle of cultural “hot” war, and EVERYTHING has an ulterior motive. And I mean EVERYTHING.
To illustrate this point, let’s look at two photos. First, let’s looks at Linda Hamilton in Terminator 1:
Now Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2:
In the first movie, she is a woman you would marry; in the second, she’s a woman that would punch you in the face. In the first movie, she’s a woman you would protect; in the second, she’s a woman that would tell you to “fuck off”; in the first movie, she’s the mother of your children; in the second, her motherly kindness is gone.
The beautiful Linda Hamilton has been destroyed. She’s been replaced by an androgynous she-male that beats up men, fires artillery, and smokes a cigarette. In short, June Cleaver has been replaced with Rhonda Rousey.
Yet make no mistake about it – the success of Terminator 2 is entirelydependent on the original. The first movie had a red-pill theme that the public gravitated to: an Alpha male, protecting a feminine woman from danger. This is the universal, the true, and the timeless.
Feminism can only piggy-back on a previous work of greatness; it can never make its own. It can only cannibalize the popular: never create the timeless. We’ve seen the same formula with other franchises that surrender to feminism at gunpoint: Transformers, Ghostbusters, etc. The feminist goal is to slowly destroy everything, to leave a our culture in a smoldering pile of ashes. To slowly disassemble a work of greatness and replace it with an androgynous fantasy world.
My point is furthered in Terminator 3. The feminist elements were feeling cocky at the success of Terminator 2. So they grabbed the reigns and tried to make the Terminator a woman. What happened? The movie flopped at the box office.
Terminator 3 is rarely played on television for the following reason – the machinations are clearly exposed, and they look ridiculous. The feminist plot for destruction of America has to be carefully couched. Whenever it’s exposed, it shrinks like Wicked Witch of the East being hit by a pail of water.
Movies are an art form; and art is the passionate offerings of a people. It represents their highest humanity, the expression of their emotional greatness. Currently, the people of American are under assault in this regard. Every great piece of art we have is being targeted by (((them))).
We are in a hot war and the stakes have never been higher.
Chris Cornell died a few days ago. The lead singer of Soundgarden was famous for pioneering the “grunge” sound, which rose to popularity in the 1990s. Sadly, Cornell committed suicide. Even sadder is that he now leaves behind two children.
Cornell is the most recent “grunge” musician to committed suicide, or to die from a drug-related overdose: Kurt Cobain, Scott Weiland, etc. Unfortunately, it’s becoming a reoccurring event.
A lot of people are commenting on Cornell’s death. Some are talking about depression, others about about drug abuse. But several points are missing, so let’s take about what nobody is willing to say:
1.) Grunge musicians were only popular because they promoted nihilism
The “angry young man” shtick was purposefully promoted by music executives (most of whom are Jewish). These executives have a specific goal – using music to destroy the edifice of Christian America.
The lyrics are the most important part of grunge. Now some people will disagree, saying that they only listen to the instrumental parts of a song: guitar, drums, etc. This viewpoint is a common for musicians, who tend to focus on the structural elements. But there’s an old saying in Nashville: “They come for the beat; they stay for the lyrics.” This is so true. Remember that the average fan cannot play the drums – but they can sing along. So the average person will “connect” with a song by singing the chorus in the car, in the shower, etc.
The Weltanschauung of grunge is nihilism. And nihilism encourages the destruction of the individual. Just take a look at the titles of the famous grunge hits: i.e “Black Hole Sun,” “Rat in a Cage,” etc. They all encourage a hopeless perspective. How many people have learned to hate life by singing these songs? How many people have overlooked the glory of God in favor of a bleak landscape? Too many I’m afraid.
1.) It Takes Millions of Dollars to “Break” an Artist; Thus, Record Labels Carefully Plan Who They Want to Promote and Why
Do you think that a musician is famous by accident? Of course not. It’s takes millions of dollars to “break” an artist. Here’s a rundown of the funding that a rock band will require:
Money needed for radio payola (funds paid to a radio station to play their songs)
Money needed to record an album
Money needed for touring: hotels, food, gas, etc.
Money needed for promotional materials: print, digital, etc.
This is a short list. As you can see, the charges pile up. Before you know it, a rock band has put a million dollars on the company tab.
Rock bands are a major investment. Therefore, the investors have to approve the message. This would not be a problem, generally speaking. However, today’s record executives are obsessed with the destruction of American youth. So everything they do is aimed at cultural genocide. Everything they do is the fulfillment of their unholy desires. The executives only invested in grunge music because it served a greater aim – to create a culture war against Christianity.
The grunge musician was a puppet for the globalist agenda. He was given the microphone for a specific reason – to pour nihilism into the souls of Christian men and women. To kill the passionate spirit of a generation and replace it with hopelessness.
In the 1960’s, men were encouraged to take LSD and drop out. In the 1970s, men were encouraged to snort cocaine and hang out at Studio 54. In the 1980s, they were encouraged to become aggressive rebels and listen to punk rock. And in the 1990s, men were encouraged to become suicidal depressives. The music changed, but the song remained the same.
Are you starting to see the common denominator? Are you starting to see what we’re up against? All of our musical heroes were useful idiots, serving their diabolical masters. They believed they had “made it to the top.” In reality, they were allowed to be there.
Instead, I provide people with advice on how to overcome obstacles. In addition, I listen to advice from others on how to overcome obstacles.
Let’s me give you two examples:
A woman wants to lose weight. She can listen to a self-help guru, telling her to “just believe in herself.” Or, she can listen a personal trainer that provides a comprehensive fitness plan: a man willing to kick her ass every day with rigorous training. A man willing to push her to greatness, to fight through pain and sweat. The first individual is providing hope; the second is helping her to overcome an obstacle.
A man wants to become rich. He can listen to an enthusiastic speaker, telling the audience to “reach for the stars.” Or, he can read from the wisdom of millionaires: i.e. The Millionaire Next Door, The Art of the Deal, etc. Books that take away time from his pleasure-filled weekend. Books that force him to re-examine his wasted life. The first individual is providing hope; the second is helping him overcome an obstacle.
You get the point.
I refuse to be a “hope dealer.” I don’t sell the crack of platitude, the needle of self-help. I don’t peddle the cliche. I’m not here improve my self-esteem by telling pretty lies. I don’t need the Facebook likes or Retweets. I prefer the truth.
I refuse to sell a Pollyanna principle. Rose-colored glasses are too small for my face, too blinding for my vision. I’m not here to misdirect or to obfuscate. I don’t need a book deal, a record contract, or a tenure-track position. I speak the truth.
May the children of tomorrow hear my cry! And may they say one thing alone – he was a man that spoke the truth. He broke the chains in Plato’s cave, he pointed to a naked leader and yelled: “The Emperor wears no clothes!”
What can I say? Nothing more than what Nietzsche already gave us:
“…it is my ambition to say in ten sentences what everyone else says in a book — what everyone else does not say in a book.”
I prefer to help one person than lie to a thousand.
The Caribbean is named after the Carib Indians. They were the dominant tribe when the Europeans arrived in the Western Hemisphere (circa 1500 AD). The media, as well as Western academics, will rarely talk about the Caribs. So who were they really? And what were the like?
To find out the answer, I’ve been reading a book entitled A History of St. Kitts: The Sweet Trade by Vincent Hubbard. The book shines a light on the Caribs. Essentially, we learn about a psychotic group of individuals.
Here’s a brief rundown:
1.) Genocide and Bridal Theft
“…the Caribs had attacked and killed all the Arawak males and taken their women as slaves,” (p. 10).
“During wars there is good evidence that parts of the enemies’ bodies were eaten, the theory being that consuming these parts would impart the courage of the vanquished to the victors,” (p. 11).
3.) Animal Cruelty
“Giant iguanas five feet long and one feet thick were common. Unfortunately for themselves, they were not afraid of humans and were thus easily killed by running a sharp stick through the nostril into the brain as the Indians [Carib] did, or capturing their necks in a rope noose hung from the end of the pole,” (p. 2-3).
In short, the Caribs came to terrorize. We can barely fathom the devastation they brought to the people of the area: the Arawak, the Taino, etc. Can you imagine being an Arawak woman in the year 1450? One day, your village is attacked by the Caribs. Your husband and son are killed and then cannibalized. And then you become a sex slave to the men that murdered your family.
Growing up in the 1970s, I learned that Indians were a peaceful race that lived in harmony with the land. They were magical tribes that shared a kinship of brotherhood. They gathered in a land that overflowed with gentility and grace.
What a sham that was! In reality, many tribes were guilty of atrocities: they were warlike, brutal, and savage. The strong tortured the weak, the greedy plundered the innocent. There was murder, rape and bloodshed.
As we review these facts, we can see that modern Americans were fed a lie; we were told an alternative view of history. The reason for this should be obvious. We were told lies so that we could cultivate a hatred for our national history: i.e. animus toward white, Christian Americans. By cultivating this hatred, we could then be dangled from the puppet strings of Max Horkheimer.
To elevate…to affirm the highest passion of life. To place man atop his rightful place on the mountain of greatness. To expand on the glorious universe that hides within. Music is the general, riding a horse that gallops through the woods. Music is a child, running though a field of daffodils. Music is the raising of a victory cup, a celebration of the human spirit.
Music is not the debased; it’s not the “social protest” of a revolutionary. It’s not the whining of a half-man, unable to claim the ring of victory. It’s not a jealous lashing out. Music is not androgyny. It’s not about confusion, misdirection, or perpetual agony. Music is not a glorification of suicide.
Music is the victory celebration; it’s an affirmation of God in His glory. And to hear it, you have to slay demons. You have to strike down the forces of mediocrity. You have to lash out at the army of lies.
Once you embrace the passion, then the glory of music is yours!