Once Aryan Skynet Goes Live It Doesn't Matter Who Pulled The Switch
Do you feel like an outcast in most facets of daily life for refusing to check your privilege, opting instead to act in your own interests? Regardless of your particular ideological bent, do you often find yourself feeling alienated and on your own even within white identity or related dissident movements, forever at odds even when surrounded by supposed allies? With corporate, state and academic propaganda pulsating at you nearly 24 hours a day on every frequency, the act of tuning out the echoes and going off to explore thoughts on your own terms is to select a path many people are too comfortably entranced to traverse. The race realists, futurists, nationalists and anti-consumerists are among today’s last stalwart non-conformists, navigating outside of society’s social and artistic taboos. For better or worse, eating ass is perfectly acceptable on network TV, and gibberizzle has become the unofficial language of today’s most celebrated sportsball figures and pop stars…but if you merely express the mildest aesthetic preference for Western Civilization, just watch how fast the squares cube up to box you in, until no one can hear your screams but the UPS man.
Beatnik Fascism isn’t some way out new ideology(do we really need any more “offshoots” at this point?) or a lame (((Goldbergian))) revisionist attempt at retroactively defining Kerouac, Burroughs, (((Ginsberg))) and the rest of the beat generation as crypto fascists(even though many of them are now considered “white” supremacists and misogynists by contemporary social justice hall monitors equipped with current year measuring sticks.) In the end, the beats were just artists doing their own thing who happened to inspire a cultural movement. Rather than wasting the book’s meager space dredging up Kerouac’s vintage anti-semitic slurs, Beatnik Fascism presents itself as a collection of imaginative(and sometimes humorous) poems for the non-conformists of today. Just as the beats were people who didn’t assimilate into the post WWII, industrialized America of the 1950’s and decided to hit the road in search of kicks, racially aware whites now live an alien existence in our own cities and towns. We’re the scattered and stubborn holdout actors in the post Cold War, globalized, transnational corporate PC shitshow that’s currently playing in dying mall theaters everywhere. The bizarre poems in Beatnik Fascism convey our experiences and challenges for the future, on an abstract level rather than through a conventionally political framework. We’re seekers too after all, in search of our collective identity and a means to cultivate it.
Beatnik Fascism is available in paperback and ebook format. Just buy it. It’s only a few bucks. Even if you hate poetry, you can strategically leave the book lying on the coffee table, and it might be useful for triggering your annoying, busybody neighbors when they pop over unannounced(or your square family members for that matter.) There’s even a poem about Harambe, that wild yet gentle creature who managed to go-ape without chimping out(but still got needlessly iced by a cold humanoid anyway.)
For more info, check out this interview on The Stark Truth podcast, with Robert Stark.