A very Christmassy video by Morgoth:
Monthly Archives: December 2020
book report, Calm Before The Storm (Dave Hayes/Praying Medic)

Well, I came across Praying Medic aka Dave Hayes through my own Q researches, and decided to buy his first Q Chronicles book when I needed to add costs to get free Amazon postage on some booze. It’s a good read, self-published but very well-edited: I am normally irritated by typos and bad grammar in new, mainstream-published books, so Hayes’ book is testament to how much one can achieve with one or two pair of eyes, sans an expensive media machine.
Hayes writes much as he speaks, in a clear, intelligent, approachable style. The book is divided into chapters, e.g. “Admiral Rogers and No Such Agency”, “Huma and HUMA”, “The Clinton Foundation.” He’s clearly done his research, even as he carefully simplifies it into manageable chunks. It’s hard to isolate anything especially quotable, as it’s all much of a muchness, that is, lucid & no more complicated than it needs to be.
I would definitely recommend it for anyone new or reasonably new to Q. Even I, who have followed Q since early 2018, found new things to contemplate, so I dare say anyone save an utter Q-savant would benefit from the book. Hayes avoids anything too nutty (even if it is true) so it would also make a good gift for normies who are beginning to ask questions but don’t want the full Lizard People experience.

highlight from Sleazy P Martini
An especially amusing moment from Sleazy P. Martini’s lastest stream
https://youtu.be/CwtiUQJ7vXM?t=4536
From 1:15:37 seconds, to 1:16:11 on the Furry Question.
film report: Tenet
Christopher Nolan is one of the few living directors whose films I will try to see at the cinema, much as I hate: a) spending money on anything, and b) leaving my cell. In Covidemia I no longer need to go anywhere, since everything is now illegal, and so I streamed it, which is of course not illegal at all. Watching Tenet on my laptop was very different to a typical cinema outing: I ended up watching it staggered over three evenings as my energy is greatly depleted by my pointless, dispiriting, badly-paid labour, leaving me little concentration for films or books; however, I was able to find a version with subtitles for the first 2 evenings, which proved invaluable – for the last session I was doomed to watch it without subs and frequently understood nothing, not even what language they were speaking.
The unclear audio irritates, in moderation; by the third evening I’d given up on understanding or really liking the film and was watching out of pure bloodymindedness; I didn’t care how it ended, presuming that it would make no sense anyway. The film’s entire premise is “nothing will make sense, don’t even try to get it” and the almost inaudible dialogue is presumably part of that; either that, or Nolan is pushing for foreign language films by getting audiences used to subtitles.
A shame, as the dialogue I understood via subtitles was often good, e.g. the unnamed protagonist holding a gun to an Indian arms dealer’s head, inquiring about a type of ammunition:
Arms dealer: Why should I know who supplied it?
Protagonist: The combination of metals is unique to India, If it’s from India it’s from you.
Arms dealer: Fine assumption.
Protagonist: Deduction.
Arms dealer: Deduction then. Look, my friend. Guns are never conducive to a productive negotiation.
Protagonist: I’m not the man they send in to negotiate. Or the man they send to make deals. But I am the man people talk to.
The protagonist, played by John David Washington, is a black guy working I think for the CIA but unlike the real CIA he doesn’t assassinate conservative thinkers and overthrow democratically-elected governments during the day and kick back at night with child porn and cocaine; he seems to be some manner of CIA paramilitary who ends up investigating ammunition that is “inverted”, travelling backwards in time, and this opens a whole can of worms about time travel and the future reaching back into the past. After that it gets complicated.
In a sense it’s a temporal version of Inception’s complication, and I was happily resigned to not understanding everything. However, where Inception’s human element is comprehensible & interesting, I couldn’t fully engage with Tenet’s characters & motivation.
The casting is one problem. It’s mostly good but just a little bit off. I thought Washington was a good actor and casting a negro in an otherwise white film works well – he stands out, like a black king on a board of white pieces. He has some great moments, e.g. when some Russian bodyguards are going to take him to a restaurant kitchen for a beatdown, Washington radiates contained rage and the desire to inflict violence; and when he glares, it’s not some hood thug’s belligerence, it’s rather the controlled intensity of the professional. He’s a likeable and fine actor, the problem is when the film becomes, as it were philosophical, he just looks like a typical actor (i.e. not very intelligent) trying to look intelligent. There’s a particularly flat scene between Washington and an Indian woman called Priya, where she’s trying to explain the film’s temporal dynamics, and neither character seem to really inhabit the concepts; it really just feels like they’re repeating their lines and trying to emote. Of course it is difficult for an actor – most of whom are dumb – to simulate that moment of intellectual comprehension, when as it were a mental landscape opens up before one; Jeremy Brett could do it reliably well as Sherlock Holmes

and William Peterson manages it in the classic “you’ve seen these tapes” scene in Manhunter.

I didn’t feel that frisson of intellectual discovery & comprehension in Tenet, and I think it’s because of the casting – none of the actors could simulate real intelligence.
Another problem, as regards the human element, is the, I suppose, “love interest”, played by Elizabeth Debicki: she has a repellent coldness and self-satisfaction to her, so whenever anyone turned their back to her, I expected her to whip out a stiletto and attack like a shrieking Italian. She just looks like a snake, and indeed her character acts like one throughout. I often find Nolan’s female leads unlikeable at best, repulsive at worst. Debicki evinces a clear facial bifurcation, that is, one side of her face is doing something very different to the other:

Serial killer stuff. I found her not merely unlikeable but repellent; every time her character appeared all of my Psycho Woman alarms went off, which is probably due to Debicki, not the character or direction, at least judging from a quick Google Image search of her in other roles & public appearances.
The rest of the cast is however very good, Kenneth Branagh is meaty & horrifying as a Russian villain, who as a Russian villain should know better than to trust any woman played by Elizabeth Debicki; and Robert Pattinson of Twilight fame is superb, nervy, seedy, knowing, inhabiting various roles in one character.

The soundtrack (by Ludwig Göransson) is also fitting, a weird syncopated rush as if time is folded upon itself in micro-packets of sequenced alteration.
The visuals, as ever with Nolan, are great, fantastical, unreal; his London is the London of most Hollywood films: clean, white, Georgian (in reality the city looks more like Mogadishu today). It’s a film one can really enjoy, I think so long as one knows what to enjoy: if I watch it again I’ll try to ignore Elizabeth Debicki’s repulsive face, and definitely have subtitles, and let my mind roam free over the fields of time and impossibility.
book report: War As I Knew It (General Patton)

A book published shortly after General Patton’s death, drawn from his war memoirs. It’s full of passages like this:
I decided to attack Casablanca this day with the 3d Division and one tank battalion. It took some nerve, as both Truscott and Harmon seemed in a bad way, but I felt we should maintain the initiative. Then Admiral Hall came ashore to arrange for naval gunfire and air support and brought fine news. Truscott has taken the airfield at Port Lyautey and there are forty-two P-40’s on it.
That is, solid workmanlike prose and a matter-of-fact, cool approach. I dare say the book would mean more to a military historian, however it’s perfectly engaging for the layman. There are some amusing moments, e.g. in Sicily:
The Mayor of the town, who was by way of being an archeologist, took me to look at these temples. When we came to the temple of Hercules, which was the biggest but in the worst state of repair, I asked him had it been destroyed by an earthquake. He said, “No General, it was an unfortunate incident of the other way.” When I asked which was the other war, he said that this temple was destroyed in the Second Punic War.
These moments take on more significance in the light of Patton’s apparent past life memories:
For all his bluff, no-nonsense manner Patton saw things in historical depth:
Furthermore, he sanctioned my plan to cross the XX Corps at Melun and Fontainebleau and the XII Corps at Sens. It was evident that when these crossings were effected, the Seine and Yonne became useless to the Germans as military barriers. The Melun crossing is the same as that used by Labienus with his Tenth Legion about 55 B.C.
He has the war-eye for detail, an appreciation for sound tactics:
Just east of Le Mans was one of the best examples of armor and air co-operation I have ever seen. For about two miles the road was full of enemy motor transport and armor, many of which bore the unmistakable calling card of a P-47 fighter-bomber – namely, a group of fifty-caliber holes in the concrete. Whenever armor and air can work together in this way, the results are sure to be excellent.
For all Patton’s deep theoretical and historical learning, he has a pragmatic closeness to things, a tactile simplicity:
He also said, and this was more to the point, that the easiest way through the Siegfried Line was the Nancy Gap. I had come to this same conclusion from a study of the map, because, if you find a large number of big roads leading through a place, that is the place to go regardless of enemy resistance. It is useless to capture an easy place that you can’t move from.
Not to mention a ruthless, clear-sighted approach:
On the sixteenth, Stiller, Codman, and I drove to Chartres, which had just been taken by Walker whom we met at the bridge, still under some fire. The bridge had been partly destroyed by a German hiding in a fox hole who pulled the detonator and blew the bridge, killing some Americans, after the leading elements had passed. He then put his hands up and surrendered. The Americans took him prisoner, which I considered the height of folly.
Only Patton could write something like this:
Christmas dawned clear and cold; lovely weather for killing Germans, although the thought seemed somewhat at variance with the spirit of the day.
One can see why some speculate that Patton reincarnated as Donald J. Trump. While the lives are in many respects very different – the New York businessman and the career soldier – a man like Patton most likely bore a multifacted, deep soul, which could just as easily manifest as a foul-mouthed, impolitic soldier, or a foul-mouthed, impolitic politician – both of genius, in their respective fields. And certainly, Patton’s ivory-handled revolvers are a very Trumpian touch.
when words should be taken out of circulation
Wittgenstein somewhere wrote that old words should be periodically taken out of circulation like debased coins. His aphorism came to mind as I watched this video by Thomas Wictor. It opens: “Breitbart goes full racist, Jew-hating white supremacist” and then shows Breitbart articles about Trump’s constant pandering to pretty much everyone except heterosexual white men. It’s apparently “full racist, Jew-hating white supremacist” to point out that Trump basically ignores the demographic that essentially was America (or a great part thereof) until very very recently.
I grow weary of words like racist, anti-Semitic, white supremacist. We should have a moratorium on such words for a generation or two. I would add “democracy” to the list, a word that has come to mean anything I like just as “fascism” now means anything I don’t like.
The rule should be, when connotation excessively outweighs denotation the word has become effectively useless.
a late note on Jordan Peterson
It is often asserted that Jordan Peterson is a Cabal creation and targets young, messed-up white men who might end up Sieg Heiling were it not for Professor Peterson; in this reading, a young white man, let’s call him Dave, is assaulted by BLM for the third time this week, and turns angrily to the internet, but instead of finding The Daily Stormer he finds Jordan Peterson, the grey-haired, sombre, squeaky-voiced Canadian professor, earnestly telling him to clean his room and forget about his group (his nation, his race, his culture, his family) and focus only on himself and his own personal well-being. Dave is thus saved from the terrible Far Right, that is, he is saved from caring about the destruction of his own civilisation and race. Dave now smiles blandly as his local community burns to the ground, as mosques replace churches and libraries, and Sharia patrols take over the neighbourhood, stuffing Dave’s sisters into black sacks to be gangraped by Mohammed and Jamal; Dave is sanguine & unaffected, for his room is clean and he has his life in order as per Jordan Peterson’s prescription.
That’s the idea, anyway. However, while Peterson was clearly intended to serve as a gatekeeper I find his biggest fanbase isn’t confused white males but rather white females. I only know one male who is a Peterson fan, and even he commenced his recommendation by saying that his wife was amazed & gushing over Peterson’s Cathy Newman interview. I had by that point concluded that the whole thing was theatre, that this ghastly journalist creature agreed to make herself look retarded in order to make Peterson look reasonable and moderate.
It worked well; I suspect it isn’t a wholly fraudulent interview, and that Newman was merely tutored to sound a bit more retarded & harpylike than usual. But as with Peterson’s initial public appearance:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OsWXBjY9W4
it all seems a little too perfect. Even before Vox Day got onto the Peterson Question, I’d concluded the professor was a Cabal creature; albeit not a wholly noxious or destructive one, for unlike Vox I think some of Peterson’s work is good (his pre-fame videos), but then the best weapons are an alloy of sorts.
I lost interest after Peterson’s rise to fame and expensive tailoring. Partly, his sudden eminence just seemed too evidently manufactured; partly, I realised he doesn’t know much outside of Piaget, Jung, Dostoevsky, and Disney films: he mentioned Dante’s Divine Comedy but couldn’t remember the name of the protagonist (it’s Dante); he hadn’t read the Bible but nonetheless made a lecture series called “the Psychological Significance of the Biblical Stories”, and so on. Once he started opining on everything under the sun his ignorance came to the fore; while the 1-book-a-year midwits might find him impressive I felt he was glib and uninteresting. So I was surprised to find so many women have fallen under his squeaky spell.
I would be curious to know if Cabal intended Peterson to attract women, or if it is an unintended side effect. In Germany I had a middle-aged (white) female colleague who even wore a Peterson t-shirt at work and gushed over how handsome and amazing he was. I was a little surprised, as while I enjoyed his pre-2016 lectures, he doesn’t strike me as remarkably attractive, and his squeaky Kermit the Frog voice gets on my nerves. I think the combination of evident intelligence (even while he’s surprisingly ignorant, and seems to have read virtually nothing), high verbal fluency, and physical frailty attracts a certain type of woman. That in itself says a lot about female nature today – a revulsion from normal masculinity, an attraction to the verbally adroit and frankly mendacious & superficial. After all, it was Eve who Satan seduced to sin; then she, Adam.