Awhile back someone on Twitter asked who was going to be the Tom Wolfe of the Dark Enlightenment/Red Pill (I’ll find it and give credit in due time). I decided it might as well be me, and I’ve been working on it for some weeks now. It will probably be mid-summer before it’s published, but while we wait for the fruits here’s a sample (yeah, my fictional style is different, and yeah, it’s present tense and no, it’s not the final edit):
One of the best things about getting older is that the “amusement quotient” increases, almost geometrically…
I’ve made a few posts here about the writer Robert A. Heinlein and his immense influence on my weltanschauung; while in my maturity I don’t agree with everything he wrote and stood for, to my child self devouring his works circa 1971 he bestrode the world as a Colossus. His “juveniles” written from the late 1940s through the late 50s inspired a generation of bright young boys to put Americans on the Moon. He emphasized duty, honor, work, intelligence and grit, and his ability to draw the reader into strange new worlds and make them seem possible and, indeed, plausible, was unique.
The novella Gulf was quite unusual, for Heinlein or any writer, in its conception and execution. In the November 1948 issue of Astounding Science Fiction a letter had been published critiquing the…November 1949 issue. As editor John Campbell wrote:
“Generally, a desirable, practically attainable idea, suggested in prophecy, has a chance of forcing itself into reality by its very existence. Like, for example, this particular issue of Astounding Science Fiction.”
A good explanation of the “Prophecy” issue of the magazine is here. In the event, Heinlein was asked to write Gulf, having been given nothing but a title. The result was something that has fascinated me as much or more than anything else he ever produced, despite his multiple Hugo awards and best-sellers later in his career.
Gulf is available free (and legally) online now, so if you’re not familiar with it, here you go. You don’t have to read it to get the rest of this post, but I suggest you do. There are enough new, intriguing ideas in this brief novella to keep you thinking about it for a long time: an artificial, highly compressed, efficient and logical language (“Speed-talk”); a secret society of “Supermen” working behind the scenes to discover and regulate major scientific and technological discoveries; bar codes (in 1949!); but what I note here is focus, mental attitude, and what are now called “Dark Triad” traits and their usefulness in getting things done, rather than emoting and “virtue signaling.”
The details of the plot need not concern us, but if you haven’t read the story yet, our protagonist is one “Joseph Gilead” (pseud.), intelligence agent for a kind of future super-CIA. We begin cold, in the middle of a courier mission going bad:
When he had stepped out of the tube car he had been reasonably sure, first, that the persona of Joel Abner, commercial traveler, had not been penetrated, and, second, that the transition from Abner to Gilead had been accomplished without arousing suspicion. The pocket-picking episode had not alarmed him, but had caused him to reclassify those two propositions from calculated certainties to unproved variables. He had proceeded to test them at once; they were now calculated certainties again—of the opposite sort. Ever since he had spotted his erstwhile porter, the New Age runner, as standing outside this same drugstore his subconscious had been clanging like a burglar alarm.
It was clear not only that he had been spotted but that they were organized with a completeness and shrewdness he had not believed possible.
We’re bombarded these days with “scientific research” that purports to prove that we don’t actually make rational decisions about most things, most of the time; we make emotional, instinctual, subconscious decisions and then consciously rationalize and invent reasons for why they’re good. Perhaps this is true for most people, most of the time. However, instead of saying “that’s just the way people are,” should not we instead be taking action to improve on this ridiculously low standard of thought?
On to our next quote/lesson:
Joe, what is a man? What is man that makes him more than an animal? Settle that and we’ll take a crack at defining a superman—or New Man, homo novis, who must displace homo sapiens—is displacing him—because he is better able to survive than is homo sap. I’m not trying to define myself, I’ll leave it up to my associates and the inexorable processes of time as to whether or not I am a superman, a member of the new species of man—same test to apply to you.”
“You. You show disturbing symptoms of being homo novis, Joe, in a sloppy, ignorant, untrained fashion. Not likely, but you just might be one of the breed. Now—what is man? What is the one thing he can do better than animals which is so strong a survival factor that it outweighs all the things that animals of one sort or another can do much better than he can?”
“He can think.”
“I fed you that answer; no prize for it. Okay, you pass yourself off a man; let’s see you do something. What is the one possible conceivable factor—or factors, if you prefer—which the hypothetical superman could have, by mutation or magic or any means, and which could be added to this advantage which man already has and which has enabled him to dominate this planet against the unceasing opposition of a million other species of fauna? Some factor that would make the domination of man by his successor, as inevitable as your domination over a hound dog? Think, Joe. What is the necessary direction of evolution to the next dominant species?”
Gilead engaged in contemplation for what was for him a long time. There were so many lovely attributes that a man might have: to be able to see both like a telescope and microscope, to see the insides of things, to see throughout the spectrum, to have hearing of the same order, to be immune to disease, to grow a new arm or leg, to fly through the air without bothering with silly gadgets like helicopters or jets, to walk unharmed the ocean bottom, to work without tiring—
Yet the eagle could fly and he was nearly extinct, even though his eyesight was better than man’s. A dog has better smell and hearing; seals swim better, balance better, and furthermore can store oxygen. Rats can survive where men would starve or die of hardship; they are smart and pesky hard to kill. Rats could—
Wait! Could tougher, smarter rats displace man? No, it just wasn’t in them; too small a brain.
“To be able to think better,” Gilead answered almost instantly.
I fed you that answer; no prize for it.
Illusions and Their Discontents
And so we have an odd situation in which both sides of the debate are in deep illusion, even if one side is right and the other is wrong. The illusion is that one side is obviously correct – and the belief that you could see that too, if only you would spend a little energy looking into it on your own. If you hold that belief, no matter which side you are on, you can be sure you are experiencing an illusion.
Adams also talks a lot about hallucinating certainty, about how when it comes to persuasion, emotion/ beats tribe/ beats mere facts.
But none of this ought to apply to Heinlein’s homo novis, who by definition must think better, a whole lot better, than the average emotionally driven tribalistic LDD (Little Deluded Dupe), and not just about one thing but about many things, about reality.
As convincing a persuader as Scott Adams is, I’m not convinced by radical subjectivism. We don’t live in an “illusion” after all, though most live, much of the time, “inside their own head.” I’m still of the solid conviction that the world is hard, and you are soft; that if you jump off the Empire State Building, you are going to die. If you’re really lucky, you won’t look so bad afterward…
Mostly you won’t be so lucky.
There is indeed a Gulf, between a Peter Thiel and the “average” #AltRight shitposter doing it for lulz (i.e., emotional reasons), between a John von Neumann and a professor of “Womyn’s Studies.” Many of our “cognitive elite” are elite in only their specialized disciplines, though. Picture Einstein and his childish socialism.
Of a Vital and Necessary Hardness
Thinking better has never been and never will be replaceable. Neither will the “Dark Triad” traits of Psychopathy, Machiavellianism and Narcissism–properly understood. I touched on this in an earlier piece, The Good Psychopath, the Dark Triad Man and Me, and won’t go into detail here, but it struck me when reading Gulf how Gilead exhibits these traits, always at the appropriate time:
Mrs. Keithley pursed her lips. “Frankly, I do not expect to learn anything from her. I may learn something from you.”
The leader of the two men looked questioning at his mistress; she motioned him to go ahead. The girl stared blankly at him, plainly unaware of the uses of the equipment he had gotten out. He and his partner got busy.
Shortly the girl screamed, continued to scream for a few moments in a high adulation. Then it stopped as she fainted.
They roused her and stood her up again. She stood, swaying and staring stupidly at her poor hands, forever damaged even for the futile purposes to which she had been capable of putting them. Blood spread down her wrists and dripped on a plastic tarpaulin, placed there earlier by the second of the two men.
Gilead did nothing and said nothing. Knowing as he did that the tube he was protecting contained matters measured in millions of lives, the problem of the girl, as a problem, did not even arise. It disturbed a deep and very ancient part of his brain, but almost automatically he cut that part off and lived for the time in his forebrain.
Consciously he memorized the faces, skulls, and figures of the two men and filed the data under “personal.” Thereafter he unobtrusively gave his attention to the scene out the window He had been noting it all through the interview but he wanted to give it explicit thought. He recast what he saw in terms of what it would look like had he been able to look squarely out the window and decided that he was on the ninety-first floor of the New Age Hotel and approximately one hundred and thirty meters from the north end. He filed this under “professional”.
This is hard-edged stuff. The very fate of the world is at stake, but I’m sure your average 2017 Ivy League undergrad would diagnose Gilead as a monster. He ought to at least break down into sobs, vomit, and need drugs and therapy for the PTSD, afterward.
There is indeed a Gulf, between a U.S. Army Ranger and a Social Justice Warrior, even, perhaps, between a Rex Tillerson and a John Kerry. My examples are not perfect, but I’m sure you get the point.
Us “HBDers” understand well that the thinking part of homo novis is mostly genetic and not very amenable to training. The attitude part, the detachment from crippling and useless sympathy, the maximization of one’s physical assets, are.
As you can tell, I have a special fascination with this story and again, urge you to read it. If not, well, take the previous paragraph under serious advisement.
As of today, the blog is retitled “Sanity in the Diamond Age.” While I still have a distinct fondness for the term, and the ideas, of “Neoreaction” and “NRx” I don’t find myself so interested in writing about them at present.
— neovictorian23 (@neovictorian23) November 18, 2016
UP FRONT: This is not a detached, completely objective review of something in which I have no personal stake, like Michael Howard’s The Franco-Prussian War or Phillip Wylie’s Generation of Vipers (both of which are superb; you should read them). Instead this review is from someone invested in the book in question, not monetarily but philosophically.
Think for yourself.
In brief, The Nine Laws has four main parts: 1) The revelation and explication of the Nine Laws, and a detailed essay on each; 2) The Dark World and [what is?] the Dark Triad Man; 3) Training, and; 4) The Arena of Blood and War (that is, the world of today). But before any further detailed description of the main text, we consider the foundational preface, which was posted in full by Vox Day upon the release of the book. Since it’s also available in the “Look Inside” free access portion of the book on Amazon, see it below. Read and mentally enfold. It will avoid the necessity of my providing any detailed introduction: Continue reading
For those youngsters out there who don’t remember the beautiful, carefree internet days of the early 20’oughts, “Fisking” (or, through long use, “fisking”) is a point-by-point refutation and/or analysis of some piece of writing that, in the view of the fisker, is so inaccurate or outrageous that they just can’t let it go. The eponymous Robert Fisk gave us the verb in a rather roundabout way; in 2003 David Pryce-Jones wrote in The Spectator that
‘fisking’, mean[s] the selection of evidence solely in order to bolster preconceptions and prejudices. Just as cardigans or mackintoshes are named after an inventive individual, so fisking derives from the work of Robert Fisk, the Middle East correspondent of the Independent, stationed these many years in Beirut.
Shortly thereafter, though, “fisking” came to mean the line-by-line analysis, criticism and refutation of a piece of “journalism” full of “preconceptions and prejudices” as exemplified by Mr. Fisk. It was often a tool of bloggers on the right as they made their ways and reputations pushing back against the narrative that the US wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were failing, but really it was an equal opportunity pastime, for those with the gumption to hack through dense terrain.
This all came to mind when I read Michelle Goldberg’s Fear, Anxiety, and Depression in the Age of Trump. Continue reading
The Olympics is a very fertile field for analysis of culture, aesthetics and HBD, amongst other things.
Claire Stevens at Amerika Blog reminds us how beauty in women’s gymnastics has shriveled since Nadia and 1976:
The difference between today’s overly muscled globalist equal person and the relative health and strength of athletes of yore is alarming. The emphasis now is on power and strength, and today’s female gymnast does a mostly masculine performance that lacks any artistry. This shift from Western aesthetics to a rote repetition of stunts reveals how far the Olympics has fallen.
For example, Laurie Hernandez performs more dance moves, and has dutifully memorized and executed all of the “tricks” from the list of successful Olympic wins, but the routine does not hold together as anything more than a demonstration.
I sampled the televised Rio Olympics and noticed the same thing, being old enough to have watched Nadia Comaneci score the “perfect 10” on live television back in 1976.
(There was nothing live on NBC in this Olympics; they delayed everything to prime time and selected things that would get ratings in the US. No drama, Team USA-centric, and uninspiring. And the ratings still sucked).
The same aesthetic is evident elsewhere, as in “figure” skating at the Winter Olympics. First, they don’t even do “figures” anymore, because it doesn’t make good television, and second, any artistic aspects are minimized; it’s all become merely a test of who can land a number of “triples” without falling down. Blech
What a society most values in sports and entertainment shines a merciless light upon it. The Romans started out with mock battles and hero-gladiators, and generations later went into ecstasy at seeing people torn apart by wild beasts. Americans have loved the intricate planning, strategy and straight-up violence of their football since the Gilded Age; Europeans and South Americans love “The Beautiful Game” featuring almost no scoring and guys fake-writhing on the ground when their foot gets stepped on.
Letting the two hermaphrodites run in the “women’s” 800m (gold and bronze)
was obviously a huge breakthrough for SJWs and for genderfluidqueers.
The other “women” in the race were not so enthusiastic, but fuck ’em. they’re just beauty-standard-binary casualties and don’t matter:
Team GB athlete Lynsey Sharp was reduced to tears when asked about multiple intersex athletes in the Olympic women’s 800m final, after Caster Semenya beat her to the gold medal…
Sharp, 26, has addressed the subject before in an interview with the Daily Telegraph when she said “everyone can see” the difference between athletes with the condition and those without it.
“Everyone can see it’s two separate races so there’s nothing I can do,” she said earlier this summer.
“If you take away the obvious ones it’s actually really competitive,” she added.
All this was forced upon the track federation by an “International Court.” That’s what International Courts are for, right? If our elites had their way, “International Courts” would doubtless rule that deporting terrorists was a violation of “human rights” if done by the United States. I’m not sure if an “International Court” would forbid “cultural practices” like cutting off little girls’ clitorises, however. That’s a sacred ceremony of brown people, even though it would seem to violate “women’s rights.” Right now the victimology of “intersex” and trannies seem to have been elevated over all other victims, gays/women/blacks/Muslims, and even gay woman black Muslims. But that could change anytime. Fat people could very well make a sudden ascension, as long as they’re women. We’ll have to wait and see.
Speaking of hormones, a few athletes were caught doping and disqualified, but the Olympics can’t shake the perception that many of the winners are dopers, but with better regimes and timing than back in the bad old days. The entire Russian track and field contingent was locked out because the evidence was that doping in Russia was systematic and on a grand scale–but I find it hard to believe there isn’t better run, better concealed systematic doping going on elsewhere.
The Olympics is a Grand Festival of Human Biodiversity. As Steve Sailer points out, all the men’s 100 meter finalists were black, again. In fact, 72 out of 72 finalists over the last nine Olympics have been black. “I don’t think 72 out of 72 can be fully explained away as a social construct.”
Most Olympic events are exhausting to contemplate because of all the training that goes into them. But sprinters don’t have to work very hard, so they tend to have time on their hands. It’s basically a test of having God-given talent and not taking too few or too many PEDs, so it’s a fun lifestyle. That’s why they wear so much gold jewelry. The 100m dash is like the Plunge for Distance, except it’s for real.
Sailer also provides the fruits of his detailed research in to which races/nations/ethnics do well in which events:
It appears that the 800 meters is where everyone has a pretty fair chance, regardless of who their Mommy and Daddy were.
Though not if they’re women with normal testosterone.
The Greeks invented the Olympics and admired the competitors (all men) for their athletic (pseudo-military) prowess, and also for their physiques. Men and women of my acquaintance enjoy watching the Games in part because of the beautiful bodies. Normal, heterosexual men generally aren’t attracted to the female gymnasts (mostly tiny teenagers with little or no breasts).
However, some of the gymnasts put on a little weight in their 20s and are quite attractive.
Many of the female athletes have so little body fat that the instinctual part of the male mind thinks, “No way she can get pregnant!” and loses sexual interest. This type of female physique is decidedly “unnatural.”
Olympic swimmers, 1964:
A lot of guys like beach volleyball, mainly because of the outfits, or nearly complete lack thereof. Again, most of the women have low bodyfat and small breasts, but they all have great legs and great asses. Well, maybe:
All in all, despite the drugs, the cheating, the drug cheating, the preening, prancing asshole Usain Bolt, the bad judging (DON’T watch Olympic boxing unless you want to get pissed off), the crass commercialism, the multi-culti bullcrap, the shitty NBC television coverage, Bob Costas, and SJW-inspired dopey shit of various kinds, I still really enjoy the Olympics.
In 2020 they’ll be held in Japan, a clean, low-crime, well-run country that my son happens to want to visit more than almost anything. We’re already planning the trip.
Anyone want to join us and celebrate a Neoreactionary appreciation of Human Biodiversity?