by Glenn Fairman 6/23/16
In simpler and perhaps more enlightened times, every warrior defending hearth and home who had ever taken the field knew well that the battle won is first enjoined in the mind. Moreover, one does not risk life or death for a cause that did not first resonate like thunder in the deepest arena of soul. The defender instinctively understood that his quest was just and that his way of life, however tainted or meager, was worth the price he was willing to purchase with his life. All he had ever desired was behind him, and what lay beyond the grim frontier was alien and anathema. In the deepest crevice of his being, he presumed that courage, both moral and physical, was the optimal response, and that abandoning the cup that had been passed to him was an abomination more terrible than any dragon that might lie ahead. Bear with me, for I shall return to this theme later.
In the contemporary West, we have discovered that It doesn’t require a strong draught of delusion to believe a lie – but little sips spaced over the span of a sheltered and privileged adolescence. The household gods are forsaken not in a day, but over a generation, and the Shekinah Glory of Yahweh in the Holy of Holies only dissipated when the worship of a people, who waxed proud and luxurious, became barren. In our grievous day, our civic tablets and the source of their power have been replaced with new modes and orders akin to graven images. And like all idols, they are variations on a lie.
To aid in the acceptance of a lie, the children’s patrimony must be sewn with salt. Ancient virtues must be incrementally replaced with even older vices. Laws must be multiplied until the first things have passed beyond memory or because they sour the sophisticated palate. Old rivals and enemies then become fellow travelers, while loyalty to men sharing the once hallowed vision are cast off as rotted garbage — along with books, philosophies, heroes – anything bringing to mind that the Golden Age dwelt behind them and not ahead. Indeed, any judgment that would dare call into question the dignity of liberalism’s effeminate revolution – their new project of man – must be condemned as retrograde blasphemy.
The god of this American age is unquestionably man, and though pockets of believers still exhibit a saline effect on the preservation of the ancient and now arcane liberties, the mass of them are passing through the colander of time as the wheat is winnowed from the chaff. And if man is god, then liberalism is his presumptive gospel from which he will attempt to evangelize the world. The tricky part – whether the world will consent to be “born again,” is of little consequence to the evangelical left. In their blind ardor, they are inoculated to the knowledge that a sizeable percentage of the earth would relish their deaths; but their dispensation of good intentions grants them a curious boldness – if foolhardiness can be reckoned as courage. In light of this Progressive call to faith, a revision of Ephesians 6 was required to pass muster for a silly age:
“Wherefore, take unto you the peaceable armor of liberalism, that ye may be able to fundamentally transform the West, and having done all to abase yourself before the State, or evade abhorrence by the foreign one:
Kneel therefore, having your loins girt about with the sacrament of abortion, and having on the breastplate of tolerance;
Have your feet shod with the preparation of our new gospel of Moral Equivalence;
Above all, hold fast to the shield of indoctrination, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of Christendom.
And finally, put on the helmet of relativism, and the magic wand of multi-culturalism, which is the word of Man manifested as god — one and true.”
In the final accounting, all idols reveal themselves to be brute lumps in the Day of Testing. When the Ashdodites carried the Ark into Dagon’s temple, the morning light revealed that their god had fallen on its face – its hands and feet broken as if to say that the thoughts and labors of idolaters would not stand. So it is with our idols. The Cult of the Collective’s lie is that it is self-sustaining, but eventually the edifice crumbles when the wealthy depart and those who remain consume their seed corn and starve. The Cult of the Collective’s lie is that it can be morally satisfying, but its dependency ultimately fashions the lowest caliber of human. The Cult of the Collective’s lie is that a world citizenry will bring peace and understanding, but in reality it will usher in war and the most heinous form of tyranny the world will ever know. And the Cult of the Collective’s claim that it will bring spiritual renewal is its greatest lie: for its pacifism is born of nihilism and a host of deceptions that will bleed any enchantment from life – making even the act of self-defense and the preservation of one’s own as pointless as rescuing cattle from a packing plant.
The Cult of the Collective’s lie is that it is self-sustaining, but eventually the edifice crumbles when the wealthy depart and those who remain consume their seed corn and starve.
In returning to my opening theme, it is quite incomprehensible that northern Europeans, with the blood of Vikings pumping through their veins, should stand as sheep while their women and children are savaged by roving Islamic rape gangs. The once-vaunted Arab hospitality, we have heard so much of, apparently does not reciprocate to the kafir when they open their homes in welcome. In a much nobler age, these “beasts” would have been dispatched while their carcasses rotted in the sun, providing a grim exhortation to those refugees whose haughty venom far exceeded their poisoned well of gratitude. The insanity of admitting an ever increasing brood of vipers into one’s homeland, either as the penance for purchasing petroleum or as a kick-start to the dream of a World Homogenous State, can be laid directly at liberalism’s elites who believe that integrating toxins into the cultural water supply is good business. Yet, one needn’t think long and hard to evaluate whether this fast track to civilizational suicide will bring the preferred dividends when one’s ten-year-old Irish daughter is required as the completed set of Burka-wearing foursome.
One does not need to wear the prophet’s mantle in these latter days in order to decipher the writing on the wall concerning radical Islam. Indeed, its diabolic belligerence, aimed unapologetically towards a blood-spattered colonization of the West, (once deemed the tainted fruit of conspiracy theorists) has now proved as real as a child’s hand held over a gas flame. Yet, the dark evangelization of liberalism as Mohammad’s handmaiden continues apace, as it strains against ancient gnats while bomb-vested camels saunter through the needle of its shallow eye. No longer able to abide sound doctrine, a traitorous elite and its propagandized thralls view their Fathers’ wisdom as an obstacle to secular paradise; just as it perceives an impending Islamic scaffold as its own personal Jacob’s Ladder.
Liberalism’s lofty claim that it elevates mankind to a plateau of greater reason, compassion, freedom and morality is as viable in the Muslim world as newborns abandoned in a serpent’s nest. Yet, this idyllic vision was not composed on the filthy streets of Mosul 2016, but from the relative safety and comfort of a Christian civilization’s now nearly vacant temples. But alas, the rainbow’s brief advent has faded under a deluge of blood. Today, any such hallucinatory pretense of progress reels in confusion, because puffed up minds could no longer believe in the existence or resilience of evil, nor envision that the goddess of “egalitarian compassion” could be strangled in a chador stained ruby red. To wit, contemporary liberalism has proven itself a most dangerous haunt of fools: not because they yearned for their own account of The Garden, but because they insisted that all men would unquestionably desire it too.
Glenn Fairman returns from the wilderness and writes from Highland, Ca.
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