Editor Note: this is a severely truncated version of 'My Philosophical-Ideological Journey; a Short Course on the Developments Regarding the Various Facets of my Thought' (found here), dealing only with the most exclusively Leftist political matters. Eschewed are the Preface, some chapters, and the Appendices.
I. Ten Weeks that Shook My World
1. The Ruback Revolution and its Failure
My beginning as a proper revolution-loving Leftist began, much as the 1917 Glorious October Revolution did upon Battlecruiser Potemkin, in Middleschool McHenry in the eighth grade of 2015. In the role of Czarist captain: Molly Ruback, a Spanish teacher who was a Falangist and unapologetic admirer of Franco (having a care never to mention Hitler, Mußolini, or the großer historical context).
This insufferable teacher took choosing favourites to a whole new level, ignoring the rest of us except to give out punishment or orders. The day that, for an activity, made English forbidden, indeed quite verboden, marked her Winter Palace episode. This decision came after what had already caused much grumbling from her nationalist propaganda history of Spain that she forced us to watch. She was handed a Menshevik jail-free card, but like the Mensheviks themselves, stayed true to the war for Spaniard nationalism. To get around the forbidding of our national speech, Ic handed out to my friends sheets with Dutch words and phrases, which to Ruback’s annoyance we spoke, and I had begun also wearing a ‘liberty cravat’ a few days before, a two-by-three French flag tied in two knots, end tucked in to my dreß-shirt. The official meaning of it I told was to represent the fight for liberty, equality, and fraternity which was our cause, but there was also the unvoiced benefit that a French flag turned counter-clockwise vertically forms another nation’s flag, one with a ‘history’ against Spain.
All of this got me sent to the office for lunch detention, and to quickly wrap up the personally leß important scenes of the event, was later given an after-school detention for creating a maßively popular, much signed petition for the principal to review her [Ruback’s] actions, and to basically make her lighten up the many unpleasant grievances reported in the letter. The conniving Bill Ferny in our midst was one supposed friend Trevor McAllister (who would years later make up lies about me to defend a hardcore neo-Nazi friend of his, who had aßaulted me because I was a ‘fuckin’ Commie-Jew’) had reported us to the dean and a Physical Education teacher supervising lunch that day.
2. Trotsky Lied: but I was Blind
Trotsky had erroneously led me to believe that the studentry was an advanced revolutionary force, claß-conscious enough to readily fight Stalinist teachers, yet after the detentions those students not of my friends did not merely abandon me, but treated me like a social pariah. Trotsky had also lied to me on a more subliminal point: he said that nationalism was solely a foreboding and powerful magic of the Dark Lord Stalin, but it is rather plain to see in retrospect that this student rebellion was reliant on nationalism for its maß appeal. No one bar myself cared about the undertones of the French Revolution and Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, they forstood that a dumb Spaniard was attacking them as Anglo-Saxons and other Western European speakers of said speech. Only the former did I so immediately recognise, though I could not then hold Trotsky to account. It must have been those damn Stalinist students, in service of their vile Master’s dark throne and his wicked subordinate officers, the teachers. Who are Stalin’s most servile slaves according to Trotsky (and so myself)? The bureaucratic middle-claßes and the rednecks (well, Trotsky called them peasants, thus I equated the past’s ‘peasant’ with the more contemporary Confederate stratum ‘redneck’). The dawn of the Great Cultural Revolution Against Redneck Stalinism was born.
II. The Great Cultural Revolution Unleashed
1. The Unsichtbaren Front: a Struggle against the Maßes
During this period of covert struggle, the unsichtbaren Front (invisible/espionage/propaganda front) took on the most significance. There was no more contact with, enlightenment of, nor faith in, the maßes, who were from then on considered hostile Stalinist scum, the sworn fiends of socialism (as opposed to the vanguard party of the proletariat, id est in Trotskyist parlance really the Trotskyist intelligentsia). One might say that policy towards the maßes transitioned from Aufklärung, to Aufklärung. From this isolation from the Vulgars, I would experience a profound, and profoundly silent, cultural awakening, especially after having read The Intellectuals and the Maßes by John Carey (I carried a meßage somewhat opposite of his away).
III. Trotskyism in Decay
After my national discovery of New England, there was once again a proletariat I might trust, and from there I could once more support the (New England Yankee) maßes. With me political beliefs now reconciled with my practical forstandings of said beliefs, it was at last time to confront Trotskyism.
As a Trotskyist, one is constantly reminded (by far superiorly learned Trotskyist elders) to remain clear of the black tomes written by Stalin, whose dark witch-craft shall corrupt one’s will from with their pages. Not even the advanced healing of Comrade Trotsky himself could cure the poisonous weapons of Stalin. Any real engagement on a neutral perception with the writings or doings of the Dark Lord would slowly turn one into a Stalinist, Stalin-lovers, worth neither letting live nor making dead. Obviously this mystical, quite rather fantastical bull-shite, began to fleck like paint on a lie. After having started to read the works of Lenin and Mao (Trotskyites have an odd relationship with Mao, not hating him like they do Stalin), questions in my head were raised, and inconsistencies betwixt Lenin and Trotskyism, and in Trotskyism generally. It was in this atmosphere that I happened upon an artefact of immense power… titled simply ‘Leninism or Trotskyism?’ by the Dark Master himself, J V Stalin. According to the date in the Amazon purchase history, I ordered my intriguing discovery on the Fifteenth of September 2016, and on the book’s back does it say ‘Made in USA, LY, Kentucky, 16 September 2016’. On the Third of August I ordered Stalin’s seminal Marxist-Leninist political manual ‘The Foundations of Leninism’ (ibidem). I do not well recall how I came about or why I was interested in the former work except from memory that this was of a spontaneous surprise, but the latter had a strong cause for its occurrence.
From the First to the Fourth of July, me mother and I were present at Socialism Conference 2016. This conference was supposedly set up by many groups, yet the near majority of them were Trotskyite ones run by the same persons or organisations as the larger ones. The only definitely independent organisation sponsoring the event was the CPUSA, and strangely enough, this was the single sponsor whose attendance booth (all of the sponsor organisations had one) nobody could direct us towards. Very suspicious concerning the overwhelming Trotskyite presence, and as I learned years after the fact, State Department contingent of conference management there, and it makes one wonder if these two Cold War allies didn’t team up once more to give ‘Stalinists’, or as I like to call them Actual Existing Communists (though this term hardly applies to the revisionist CP, they at least do not openly, proudly side with the arms of State and imperialism), the boot right at the very beginning of the conference? The conference was truly a learning experience. I at long last realised Trotskyism to be the counter-revolutionary petit-bourgeois trend in disguise that it always has been. Shady characters with unknown rises like Bhaskar Sunkara, who was dodgy and squirrelly as one would not expect of a seasoned Leftist organiser and head of a popular publication to be at all. The Trots droned on about how intelligent and great Trotsky and, don’t read whilst drinking- Karl Kautsky was! Not Lenin, but Kautsky! Indeed, they made Lenin out only to be a sympathetic protagonist of a tragedy, the story of how socialism was doomed to fail from day one in the USSR, how delusional poor Lenin was, and that typical vein of non-sense seen from covert anti-Lenin-ists. Apparently Lenin was simply ‘holding back the flood of Stalinist capitalism’, so to speak. The whole conference was one expencive (two-hundred dollars a ticket, if memory serves), wasteful charade. Lenin was barely mentioned, and always in that same tragic light of the ‘poor ald fool’, though the Trots dared not use those exact words, and always did they do this in a superficial, reverential way, never bothering to discuß where in his theory he was wrong (and all of his ‘acceptable views’ were designated over to Trotsky). I have yet to see a Marxist-Leninist wank off Lenin or Stalin, et alia, to the fantastical level that Trotsky’s dead corpse has been by his followers. If anyone has a cult of personality, it is the Trots. One more important occurrence that happened to me was that an anarchist asked me how I could support a totalitarian Stalinist arsehole like… Josip Broz Tito. I argued with his ‘novel’ interpretation of Tito and Yugoslavia. At the end of the conversation, he practically said it would have been better for world communism if the Nazis had been able to annihilate the Yugoslav Partisans, and execute Tito. I had quite enough at this outrageous juncture and so replied to this in the only way befitting it: ‘hell ja, mein Volksgenoße! Sieg Heil!’. With my piece said, I quickly left the small room we were in. My first time bumping into a so-called Leftist who would, whether implicitly or explicitly, rather have the Nazis win instead of Stalin, Mao, Tito, and the Allied Powers, simply because ‘muh socialism easier to get over here!’, both stupid and selfish. It is nay wonder that after witneßing this shite-show, a pamphlet named ‘Leninism or Trotskyism’ appealed to my confused disposition, garnered my curiosity about the true nature betwixt Trotsky and Lenin, Trotskyism and Leninism.
V. The Five Month Plan to Bolshevise
I, having become disillusioned with Trotskyism and finding no acceptable salvation in the radical wing of social-democracy or the Industrial Workers of the World’s brand of anarchism (really anarchism period), delved into my very own political revolution, days that shook the world for my thinking. I shelved my Trotsky(ist) books in back, and brought my long neglected claßics by Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Mao to the fore-front. Being one of the sole good things to come of ‘Socialism’ (Trotskyism) Conference, I could add a few claßics purchased there to my still-minor personal library collection. Besides staying wary of the dark tomes of Stalin, we were highly encouraged never to read the claßics without consulting a Trotskyist guide before-hand, lest, in our aspiration to use this Stalinism for good, our hearts be corrupted with the power offered by the Staliet Union. Wise were these Trotskyite words, as read alone, there shall be no Trotskyist conclusions drawn. Having read ‘Leninism or Trotskyism’, and being taken aback by how accurately the pamphlet described what I had witneßed unfold at that ideology’s big conference, I decided that if Marx, Engels, and Lenin corroborated Stalin, then I would become a Marxist-Leninism, and join with him. But if Stalin was exposed by their tomes to be a manipulative Dark Lord of the Soviets, then I would adopt Leninistic-Marxism, or Leninism with no adjectives (I never did come up with a satisfactory name to rival Marxism-Leninism).
Thankfully, I need not have continued experimenting with naming schemes, for the claßics of Marxism on every page contradicted the Trotskyite dogma, and absolved the doctrine of Marxism-Leninism. I was at last unblinded by the bright Red dawn of the immortal ideological science. Ironically, this glorious transformation could not have happened (at least as soon) without Socialism Conference, and it caused me to read more Trotsky than I ever had previously as a Trotskyite, realising suddenly more as ach book I completed how many contradictions were present in Trotskyism, and just how much Trotsky’s views diverged and doctored from those of Lenin. In this proceß of de-Trotskyisation, I was aided along by the content of a YouTube channel named ‘The Finnish Bolshevik’. FinnBol’s videols and my growing library of Marxist-Leninist literature, claßic and contemporary, had altered nearly all of my political views, yet it also re-opened examination of my cultural theory.
VI. Socialist Reckoning of Intellectual Activity
Up to this moment of ideological development, my cultural ideology was immensely anti-maßes. With the advent of a real Marxist basis, I could determine the claß-consciousneß and claß-character of the various strata in ‘the maßes’. One of the most veritably profound, palpably changes was in the way I forstood the claß of the majority of the studentry. For so long, I had equated what were really petit-bourgeois sub-urbanites with a stereotyped conception of the peasantry as rednecks (purviewed from my Trotskyism, I presume). Now my analyses, whilst still polemical, were material, id est sensical. I as well had to reckon with the fact that I was of an ideologically conscious advanced element of this very same claß. This is why I had fallen into the fear-mongering, even mystifying, dogma of Trotskyism, and why I thought my writing and I were better than any Marxist who had come before. I burned my autobiography in our back-yard fire pit, for it so disgusted me. To this day, I am a strong adherent of the Lenin-Stalin Biographical Principle: only petit-bourgeois egotists (anti-Communists) focus on such fruitleß endeavours as writing memoirs or autobiographies. This article is the first writing in five or six years that I have made about myself.
I was not useleß to the movement, however. I could do what petit-bourgeois intellectuals do best: write for the movement, and create a publication in which to distribute the writing. Again, I reached the conclusion that a publication was neceßary, but this time I knew the material, roughly speaking, to be the motive of its purpose. Thus, The Philosopher’s Interior (print edition) was had from my own hand and mind. The last detail about The Philosopher’s Interior of importance to my Ideological Journey, is that it once more demonstrated to me the unfaithfulneß and unreliability of petit-bourgeois, incapable of maintaining or developing even their friendships, which caused me to theorise about the nature and structure of friendships for a short time (the primary work on this will be included as an appendix, if I by chance re-discover it).
VIII. Tying up some Cultural Ends
I near forgot to answer the popular questions of the source for my uniformology and my linguistic endeavours! The former question has two predominant influences. As I mentioned in my national awakening, I looked at the Preußian and Deutsch aristocracies, and the nations they were the leader of, with positive approval. His Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm II appears to have had quite the natural inclination for uniformology as well. For make no mistake, I was destined to wind up there, the influences only served as social validation that I was correct and the grotesque middle-claßes were the degenerates in the wrong. The second influence came from Comrade Stalin and the Bolsheviks. Seeing those high and fold-down collar tunics, with shoulder boards of gold and/or colourful collar tabs, I knew at once that what the middle-claßes were selling us was scumbaggery and redneckery. There were even the flute bands of Ireland, Republican and Orangeist, dreßed in exquisite uniformeries. I would even make the historical claim, without any previous study on the matter, that if the NSDAP had been a typical Western republican party of centrist sensibilities, it would have still wiped the floor with the other degenerate middle-claßist Weimar parties, all thanks to its uniformology, street parades, and Nuremberg rallies. The aristocracy, if I may say, is the natural vanguard of the proletariat. Claß finds its constitution partially in culture. I recently gave a simple explanation on my following uniformology, which I shall include in the appendices.
My linguistic views were yet another commonality shared by the Spire of Woden and myself. I have long been yelling into a chamber of naysayers that English as it stands to-day will not survive, whether it be the coming yearhundreds or the collapse of the US Empire, unleß we take steps, any steps at this point, to reform it. There are many ways to go about this, and the Spire of Woden has taken a path of simultaneous Anglification and phonetification, with some vocabularial alterations and additions sprinkled in. We might also do as the Irish have tried with their speech, and teach pre-1066 English as part of compulsory education, spreading it around the land on signs, boards, and legal documents. I cannot streß enough that the Ghettovian muck pushed by the onlinified sub-urbanite middle-claßes can only destroy English faster. That is no solution, it is suicide. We could nationally switch to Deutsch or Swedish, but that would be the ruin of English, too. To think that the last remnants of the Speech of Beowulf now teeter at the edge of the historical void, is a sad testament to the destructive force of liberalism.
IX. An End if ever There were One
That is the conclusion of my Ideological Journey, besides the appendices. It has been full of developments, of that I know. From what I have learned, I consider myself more useful, more industrious, when alone. Left to my own projects, I am a wellspring of industrious ingenuity. My history here demonstrates so. This was truly an unexpected journey, when it was announced four weeks ago, and I practically abandoned my blog to finish it! Out of the frying pan and into the flame I go, into the lengths of the groß unknown…
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