Bronze Age Pervert - Bronze Age Mindset

BRONZE AGE MINDSET

AN EXHORTATION

BY

BRONZE AGE PERVERT

This book dedicated to the memory of Dean Dejana, a spiritual brother, a Sardinian giant of high vision, man of superhuman physical strength. You were too strong for this world, friend. Be reborn in a better timewe meet again, we fight together!

Cover illustration by owen cyclops @WesternIdentity

VICTORY TO THE GODS!

PROLOGUE

This is not book of philosophy. It is exhortation. I hardly have anything to say to most who arent like me, still less do I care about convincing. This is account of my reveries. I tried to put, as brief and simple as I could, the thought that motivates me and the problem faced by life in ascent and decline.

I was convinced to write this book by certain frogs who told me, Is it not a shame that hucksters are multiplying lies, and jizzing their filthy doctrines into receptive minds everywhere? Perversions lame onesare born by the thousands and haunt, like myriad cripplette midgets in halls of mirrors, they haunt the world, books, the internet. Minds are lost. If you wait any longer everything will be pounded to garbage, there will be nothing leftit will all turn, the whole world will turn to a Bulgarian rest stop lavatory. But have you seen the movie Midnight Express andand how did it make you feel?

I was roused from my slumber by my frog friends and I declare to you, with great boldness, that I am here to save you from a great ugliness.

If you look around eyes of some people you see a kind of demented energy. Its pure anger or lust for power with nothing more. I hate to dirty these pages with mention of names of nobodies in our time. But if you see photo of Hillary Clintong or Adam Schiff with his eyes bugged out on stims and antidepressants or who knows what, you know what I mean. There is a crease around the eye that tells it, it looks like cyborg gone off-script, these people have an inhuman gaze and are vehicles for something else. You see this also in the chiefs of the EU bureaucracy with tiny moleman eyes behind small glasses, and the tiny lenses that reflect light. You see it in the dead robot eyes of the new hue-man automatons running government departments, the DMV, the brutal zombies running the security in airports or hospital health care rooms under vicious yellow fluorescent lights.

I wanted to expose the grim shadow of a movement that is hidden behind events of our time and from before. This is a great power that acts like a ghost. It hides in its own darkness and it has been absorbed by the lands and the peoples so that you cant really see it anymore. There is just an eldritch quality embedded in things and on some faces. The same was said of Hades. Some said he would feel a great shame when some other god drew back the veil on the underworld so all the vile things that are there could be seen. Is this Hades of our time capable of shame? I heard also of such things being under the sea, the disgusting and frightful things revealed when the sea recedes before a great storm. I will draw back the curtain on this Iron Prison and show you where it is you really live

The secret things show in dreams. Heraclitus say, All the things you see awake are death, all the things you see asleep are sleep. He was trying to be coy! In his day many gods, clove-footed satyr, and other things showed themselves to men in dreams.

Spiritually your insides are all wet, and theres a huge hole through where monstrous powers are fucking your brain, letting loose all your life and power of focus. You dont see yourself as you really are, but maybe some nightmare can show it to you. I am here to show you the way out.

There was Empedocles, a philosopher, man of high vision. He jumped into volcano Aetna in Sicily because he knew he would be reborn as a god. Now imagine yourself in front of rim of Aetna. Its dry and sandy. You feel the heat but is not like you thought it might be. Is not Romantic. Is just hot, dry, you cant breathe, and the smell of infernal sulfur and wet earth and even worse things triggers an old memory or instinct in you to run. Youre brought to face with a vehemence and brutality of rock and you start to feel dizzy staring in. Molten rock in your nostrils and its not just that it scares you. If it were great fear, that could be a spur to action. But it fills your nostrils with banality and dullness of plain molten dust, you see gray and black. It reminds you of torrid summer afternoon by abandoned gas station, you are stranded on dirt road, choked by heat and so much dust. You see flames in the hole but it lacks the romance of fire as you imagined it. Is this it? It seems like nothing to you, because to your eye its nothing. So you pull away from it. Youre not reborn as a god, you remain a mule. Your lying mind now comes up with many thoughts about why its right to pull back. Why, of course! Theres a nice meal to have, a glass of wine. Maybe theres a girl waiting. Her pussy is warm and inviting. Empedocles was deluded.

No, dont jump in Aetna or Mauna Loa or Puyehue or Eyjafjallajkull, Titans of the world, even if you get yourself to do it, it wont work now. These portals are closed for ages. But! Other doors are closed to you too. What Mount Aetna was to Empedoclesis there something like that to you? Is there something like that at all anymore?

Life has a thing inside it that reaches beyond itself. This is intergalactic worm, I cant say here, you must wait. But if you dont reach beyond yourself you are dead! Most of mankind is the walking dead.

I tell you other story. In Stone Age man appears, very strong shoulders, with club in hand. He is believed by the people to be a son of some godof a mortal woman who cucked her husband with a god. As child he already displays superhuman strength. When he grows he goes into the deepest wild to fight great cave lion. He emerges from cave with skin of lion on his back. Lion had been eating and working terror in the people, but now he wears this terror on his shoulders. He carries lion mane on head, lion pelt on back and a great club in the hand. This man comes to be worshiped by the people: his progeny become lines of kings, of Sparta and many other places. What was his act of foundation? He slaughtered monsters, he made the seaways known to man and tamed the rock-face. But dont forget the lion-skin on his shoulders. This was lion of Nemea. Do you understand what Nemesis is? There is in nature a great purgative function. You know about monkeys who switch sex in certain times. In lake of some reptiles, when they overpopulate it and there is a surplus of refuse, there is trigger in nature: a monster is born to them. A lizard many times the size of a normal one is born, who deals out destruction and culls the lake. The Greeks believed in this great power and worshiped its justice. In Bible it appears as allegory of the Flood, which in fact refers to the irrepressible spirit of the Sea Peoples, and the divine justice they brought to cities whose life had grown pointless, and a great ugliness on the world. You bring lion cub into the house, but Aeschylus say, it will become a priest of doom when it reaches age: in nature there is irrepressible force. Its violence against the surfeit of populations is divine justice. Its destruction of the feeble designs of reason, the pointless words of manthis is beautiful. This what the power of Nemesis means: few are chosen to wield it, fewer realize they are chosen or know what to do with it. When Hercules puts on the power of Nemesis on his shoulders he becomes hero who makes the world tame and safe for cities of real men. But that was in his time, and ours is an age of surfeit. It is different function. The star of Nemesis is sure to return, and it must already be burning inside some of you.

In the Bronze Age men had life and force, and I already see, far on the horizon of our world, but the glimmer is surely theremay it not be a mirage!I see this spirit returning surely in our time. Piratical bands and brotherhoods will take to the seas, and not just to the seas. The enemies of Western man and the enemies of beauty are to learn just what was meant by a piratical race, a nest of pirates like the Chinese thought of the Dutch on first meeting them. I want to prepare you to receive this old spiritold spirits are moving, from behind the reeds the silhouette shimmers against a river in late summer, and I see already men who know how to honor such uncanny old friends.