Majorityrights Central > Category: Art & Design

My advice is to treat everything you have learned in higher education exactly as you treat everything you have learned from Christian teaching, excepting only that, knowing of it, one might investigate the damage that it has visited upon the life of our race.  It is useful to analysis.  But do not seek to re-interpret and apply any part of it creatively to the European existential question.  The philosophy of our peoples’ life has not yet been written. - Guessedworker

My learning comes not from what was then called “The Tower Library” when I first came there, renamed the W.E.B. Dubois Library after the Mulatto Marxist, at the demand of liberally protesting students, which included classmates of mine (I rather wound up hoping that the library would tip over and fall onto our department’s Machmer hall which was right near the library to one side below).

In this bit of recent “advice” from GW, I find some exoneration for the vitriol and rebuke that I’ve visited upon him - starting when some tipping point was reached in his dismissiveness. I already had strong reason to believe that politeness and respect would not work to stop him from trying to minimize, misrepresent, dismiss and bury what I’ve brought to bear. But that statement confirms it for me.

And with it, that there are total inaccuracies in his concept of where what I’ve learned comes from. Inaccuracies that suit the stereotyping of his autobiography.

I have called attention to a feature of GW’s autobiography - the non-academic David who is going to singularly slay the entirety of the academic Goliath, preparing the ground for his foundational and comprehensive world view of the requirements of European peoples - an utterly grandiose aspect of his autobiography that was formed in reaction to YKW academic abuses of social organization and advocacy.

As I have explained, I am very sympathetic to this and, in fact, returned to graduate school for the purpose of defending White men in response - my thinking at the time, that it would be from an approach of scientific foundation - the very word “pragmatism” was repulsive to me and it took Pearce’s calm and sympathetic advice that I did not like mere pragmatism, to calm me down. He added, that we are pragmatists because we have to be. If you follow the pragmatist line of reasoning to its conclusion, even our ideals and our pursuit of our depths are pragmatic - though it is not my purpose to defend the pragmatists but rather to illustrate where I was coming from and how I was helped around. I believe Pearce’s teaching would hold that pragmatism, literally, would be short on prefigurative force, if not contextual or implicative force, where perhaps it should not be over emphasizing practical force, practically speaking.

To negotiate the post modern condition, he and his colleagues, along with grad students, would focus on the need to manage coherence, coordination and mystery. Coordination would be the feature that would require a more basic, universal language to negotiate.

GW said that I made the wrong choice to not follow up foundational science. GW is wrong. While it is good and necessary for some of our people to study cognitive science, that is not what our advocacy and its philosophical underpinnings most require at this point - we’re under attack psychologically, yes, but our concerns are deeper than that, we need more of a social perspective to look at the deepest problems, as we are under attack as a species, group system, a race - largely a matter of social classification as Pearce would show:

W. Barnett Pearce

Sexists, racists, and other classes of classifiers: Form and function of “...Ist” accusations

by Julia T. Wood and W. Barnett Pearce

An “. . . ist” accusation indicts an individual as a racist, sexist, or other “. . . ist” whose thoughts and/or acts discriminate on the basis of class membership. The self‐reflexively paradoxical structure of “. . . ist” accusations precludes refutation, but response is possible. Pragmatic and moral implications of alternative responses to “. . . ist” accusations are evaluated.

Quarterly Journal of Speech, Volume 66, 1980 - Issue 3. Brief provided by Taylor & Francis Online

In late 1989, I wrote to W. Barnett Pearce to discuss his work and how it might resolve problems that I was struggling with. Noting my struggles with accusations of ‘racism’ and ‘sexism’ - and having compassion! - he sent me this article, so on target and deft in the manner which it handled my concerns, that it demonstrated unequivocally that his was a discipline that I needed to be apprised of. Indeed, this article provided two of the most important clues for my WN advocacy. The first being that ‘race’ is (in an important regard) a matter of classification - at very least being treated as such by people who mattered, particularly by our foes, but also by our people, where they know what is good and necessary for them. Secondly, as the blurb above hints at, our antagonists can always shift its paradoxical structure to their anti-White agenda:

Viz., if you say, “no, I don’t discriminate based on race, sex, etc., I judge everyone on their individual merit”, then they can charge you with being disingenuous, willfully ignoring “the long history of discrimination, oppression and exploitation of these groups.”  But then, on the other hand, if you take the measure of saying, “ok, lets take that into account and use, say, affirmative action to help these groups into positions in which they are under-represented”, then you are classifying and discriminating thereupon, hence a racist by definition.

Along with that article, Pearce sent me another one regarding The Problematic Practices of Feminism: An Interpretive Critical Analysis, Communications Quarterly, 1984, with Sharon M. Rossi - which I found ironic, that being the exact name (same year as well) of the girlfriend of mine who drove me to psychic melt-down.

Anyway, the (very helpful) gist of that article, which I’ve noted several times before, is that within the context of liberal feminism, even a well intentioned man can always be put into the wrong:

You can always be treated as either a wimp or a pig, no matter what you do as a man.

If you try to treat her with deference, gentleness, help and respect, then you can be looked upon as a wimp and a condescending patriarch who does not respect her strength, agency and autonomy.

On the other hand, if you treat her as one of the boys, respecting her toughness and autonomy, then you can be looked upon as a pig, a male chauvinist pig, not respecting the special quality of her gender, but rather a male chauvinist pig, projecting the hegemony of your patriarchical world view over all and everyone.

* Note: while Pearce had compassion on me for what he might deem as unfair overcompensation on behalf of people of color, neither he nor his colleagues should be construed as “racists” nor endorsing my political activism and philosophical positions across the board - that would absolutely not be true.

And part of the problem of GW’s mis-assessement also stems from a STEM mentality, a predilection that he shares with Bowery, a predilection that essentially wishes that engineering, science and philosophy were practically the same endeavors. Not so much need for the “ought” corrections of the social world, we primarily need to find and describe what is, single out and fix any broken link. Compounding problems of STEM type predilections, is the head start this perspective has had through the internet, a STEM created medium to begin, amplifying this perspective (already amplified, as it tends to pay in the market, while social concern, not necessarily).

But it’s worse than that in terms of any concern for holistic philosophy and advocacy.

GW’s situation both as an ensconced Englishman and boomer who derived some benefit - economic and the satisfaction of free enterprise - from the other side of the controlled opposition from cultural Marxism - viz. some sort of “objectivism” - contributes to a confirmation bias that independent success of individuals and nations is basically a matter of freedom from all that superfluous and unnatural social advocacy stuff - which from his perspective on Jewish laden academia, is seen as possibly serving only liberalism and misdirecting notions of choice, where English emergence is the only legitimate default.

And it is worse still than that in terms of holistic, systemic philosophy in advocacy of our homeostasis, its recovery.

My learning comes not from visiting lecturers to the campus, Cornell West and the S.P.L.C.‘s Morris Dees - who spoke of his case to bankrupt Metzger for “vicarious liability” ..lectures brought on by the university to quell racial tensions being raised by I can’t imagine the likes of whom.

The luxury (compared to American Whites) of being able to say with stronger conviction, “here in my ancient homeland, with my people”, has afforded more confidence to double down on his STEM predilection and patch up a modernist, “natural” reaction (Modernity is also largely STEM in origin) to abuses of post modernism - and, he has received support in this reaction from other groups in reaction, groups that I’ve ousted from this platform and who, therefore, seek to bury the world view that I advance.

This has given GW more confidence than he should have in a modernist philosophy and a wildly inaccurate and disrespectful disposition toward what I bring to bear. Spontaneous reactions were brought out in me - in moments when I finally could not believe that he would stop trying to mute, minimize if not dismiss what I was bringing to bear.

Disconcerting though my spontaneous eruptions may have been to a tipping point in the level of utter disrespect for what I’d brought to bear by the very host of the site, I’ve taken solace in the fact that I was asked to take the site in a direction that I saw fit. I had and still have confidence that is fine for several reasons.

Through experience, I’ve come up with a philosophical framework to form the basis of advocacy for European peoples in coordination with other peoples and natural systems.

A major feature of my platform which gives me confidence is that it holds up and makes sense consistently of what is going on.

Despite that, another aspect that gives me confidence in my position is the fact that the notion of “correctability” - i.e., Praxis takes us into engagement with the input of others, where it is not only welcome - it is a built in requirement (particularly where it mirrors good will toward our group interests). This is “my ownmost innocence”, to turn Heidegger on his head for a moment.

Some people will try to say that because this platform rejects, for the most part, Christianity, Nazism, Jewish input, scientism (a susceptibility not only of modernists, but also neo trad types - incl. women who see beta males everywhere and see them as dead wood who need to be killed off) and wild conspiracy theories, that I am not open to input. That’s not true. These positions are rejected for what should be obvious reasons for those interested in fostering the interests of European peoples. And they have other places to go, whereas a WN platform that rejects these things exists only at Majorityrights.

My learning comes not from W.E.B. Dubois’s mulatto supremacism, which proposed that an African American “feminine man” who, in joining with the more “masculine” Teutonic would produce a common human/American civilization by a racial division of labor.”

But what many of those adhering to these world views have in common and have in common with GW, I believe, is that they are reacting to Jewish abuse - academia being the generating house of misrepresentations, gross distortions in theory of social organization and advocacy, which has become more and more blatantly anti-White social advocacy (it was blatant even thirty years ago).

I have called attention to GW’s autobiography, a significant part of which was formed in reaction to YKW academic abuses of social organization and advocacy.

I understand his reaction, as I have said, I went back to academia with the intent of pursuing a graduate career in defense of White men, not for any mere practical reason, but on the basis of foundational science.

GW said that I made the wrong choice to not follow up foundational science, and GW is wrong. While it is good and necessary for some of our people to study cognitive science, that is not what our advocacy and its philosophical underpinnings most require at this point - we are under attack psychologically, yes, but our concerns are deeper than that, we need more of a social perspective to look at the deepest problems, because we are under attack as a species, a group system, a race.

Now let me revisiit GW’s statment:

My advice is to treat everything you have learned in higher education exactly as you treat everything you have learned from Christian teaching, excepting only that, knowing of it, one might investigate the damage that it has visited upon the life of our race.  It is useful to analysis.  But do not seek to re-interpret and apply any part of it creatively to the European existential question. The philosophy of our peoples’ life has not yet been written.

While I can’t presume that his misrepresentation of where my knowledge comes from doesn’t come from the bad will of his business competitor world-view and/or the other antagonistic world views that spur him on, lets give him the benefit of the doubt for a moment and presume it is sheer misunderstanding - I will clear away the inaccuracies in his concept of where what I’ve learned comes from.

I spent the first three decades of my life learning from experience what it was like to be antagonized as a White man, without the backing of a particular group, not Italian, not Polish and certainly not as an English man in England. What I’m saying is that my racial circumstance was even more radical in its existential circumstance and requirement - the absolute need to understand what is requisite.

...

My undergraduate major was Fine Art, so even though my academic requirements at Tufts were comparatively minimal, happily for me, since that’s all that I could cope with, what Jewish influence there would not be heavily enmeshed in by me - again, because I could not process the liberalism that was only gaining in America at that time - given only ostensible reprieve by Reagan’s (((paleoconservatism))) - my response to liberalism and its advocacy in that moment was to take on a semblance of identity politics in Theory of Soviet Foreign Policy with an adviser to President Reagan (viz., with a non-Jewish expert on Soviet / Polish relations; true, the texts were (((Adam Ulam and Dimitri Simes))) but what was I going to do with this information anyway?); I took religion courses for my social requirements, trying to practice pure Christianity, but fortunately these courses planted the seeds that the bible might not exactly be the word of god, but the work of many all too human hands, and it was a phase that I would totally throw off once the stress of university was over.

Christianity had been the basic recourse that my family had shown me in response to liberalism (though it was not discussed, just go to church and Sunday school and shut up).

With the pain of the utter communicological confusion of my family and of that society, art, including the beauty of White women, was my first recourse in terms of sustaining motivation. Then when I realized in my undergraduate career that that was not going to be sufficient for a man trying to cope with the liberal world, I fell back on Christian religion to cope with my undergraduate academic years. I got through while embarrassing myself trying to defend that stupid religion against people with vastly superior resources to me. But to give myself credit, I did learn that it was not THE moral order and I moved on.

A major lesson I learned from academia was what a burden it was to be told what I was required to read. Once I graduated, it was a great moment of liberation - I not only had a key to learning, through erudition, but now I could read what I wanted and needed.

And I would later learn that without the solid guidance that a scholar can provide, that there could be a lot of wasted time reading material that was off the mark of what would be most incisively helpful.

So my field of inquiry and learning moved inefficiently from art, to religion and… the first subject matter that I started reading outside of university on my own was, of course, psychology. Carl Jung was first. Then some Jews, yes, Freud and Gestalt (Fritz Perls), Rollo May, most of it not very helpful but at least suggesting that there could be some empirical anchoring, means to self advocacy and guidance.

Then a truer learning experience as I read along these things at work, my first girlfriend, who would fly off the handle screaming at the suggestion that maybe she didn’t need to scream at me, that I was a nice guy, willing to work things out, despite the fact that I had a family that screamed at me (among other communicological pathologies), so I didn’t need more of it.

This caused me to see a psychologist as Sharon was a bitch (by her own admission and words) who was going to help inspire me by destroying my mind. In fact, when she sensed that I would be quite content to break up with her, she reappeared at my desk with hands clasped in a plea that I not break up with her - so she could really lower the boom and finish my mind off, so I would find.

I needed the psychologist very badly in order to try to keep it together.

During these few years in the mid 80’s, I gleaned a little something from Heidegger and took his advice, as I’d said, to put my perspective into a historical time line and this was when I began my critical revision of the Maslowian Hierarchy, seeing the significance of the hippies in relation to feminism, Maslow’s story of Actualization and its negative implication of modernity and the systemic runaway of the American project - a rupturing of the first and most essentially human perspective, social systemic homeostasis; and how this (((American story))) of ‘being all you could be in individual human potential in the land of opportunity’ was opposed to Aristotelian Actualization and its emphasis on optimality and human nature, to be augmented with a post modern furthering of his emphasis on the difference of praxis (social world) and its requirements in circulating inquiry of phronesis (practical judgment).

I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

READ MORE...

Although we might wonder, even if we were able to do away with Abrahamic religions, would this not attenuate the signal of the sheeple destined for a mystery meet future? I.e., would we lose a clear signal of those we want to separate from? Perhaps that is not our greatest concern as the genes and our agency speak loudly.

Some images speak loudly too - just impossible to resist.

     
Kermit Alexander’s punt return for nearly a touchdown suddenly crystallized several factors of my burgeoning masculine identity (I was only 9) and bonded it strongly with the Los Angeles Rams in a moment on Monday Night, October 26th 1970.

I was not completely oblivious to the fact that he was black nor even entirely without trepidation for the long term implications of siding with blacks - just a few years before it was Malcolm X who said that blacks were going to rule me, which of course I did not want - there were the black riots which burned Newark and killed some dozens in 1967; and there were the “chocolate nurses”, whom I naturally did not identify with, and did not like, but surrounded me in the hospital when I was admitted for my tonsillectomy.

Oh, perhaps I exaggerate the exhilaration, elation and importance of this moment of Monday Night Football, under the spotlights which gleamed off the Rams and Vikings cool, streaking helmets, but I think not - even though it was but one moment and episode among a mass of factors which would misguide me for a few teenage years into mis-identification. I was devastated that the Rams were stopped in that episode on the goal line against the Vikings - The Vikings, who had been to the prior Super Bowl. But I was now hopeful and determined that “we” could play with them - and furious that my parents made me go to bed; miserable to wake up to find the Rams lost.

The Vietnam war, where men were expected to die, feminism, that blamed men for everything, my family’s communicologial craziness and what was already society’s (((the media and academia’s))) anti-White prohibition against White identity, its crowning of blacks as what we now call the “untouchables” and Jews as taboo to even wonder about, let alone criticize.. some context and quite difficult for a boy hard programmed to like girls: yeah, I was starting to like girls, but of course not wanting to be deterministically beholden, at this point, to this situation - with all this context going against my identity and the need by contrast to identify with people who were on my side and who’d fight hard; given the hostility of my family and society, I needed some socially sanctioned identity, on my side, with those who’d fight.

NFL Films were a significant part of constructing a riveting identity, i.e., my entrancement into undue sports rooting in my teenage years.

Jack Snow sprinting for a touchdown in N.F.L. Films

Lets continue with the topic of sportsfanship, how we might illustrate and redirect the illusionary escape of illusionary observational objectivity and diversionary identity. It’s an important matter, leading to a cuckold identity if, as a habit, not broken (thankfully, I did).

Furthermore, by examining the romanticizing and compelling role that NFL Films play in identity creation, we might be able to take a few of its ideas for the building of our own identity creation.

Let’s examine the films then and a little more of what could lure one into sports enthusiasm during teen years and beyond. It is a fanaticism that we could rather use to fight on behalf of our own peoples.

Los Angeles Coliseum

The coaches, adults, were all business and made this seem like serious business

In sunny California, Hollywood, manly battle took place in cool uniforms..
.
Appreciation

Snow (number 84) was one of my favorites ...they actually had White wide receivers in those days - they were good, too.

The officials made it official

The timing had something to do with it, sure. As I’ve said elsewhere, the early 1970’s were a time when the Vietnam war was ending, the relaxed communal sense of Being being extended to White men was giving way to feminism - could be rabid, White man hating, feminism. My older sister was a cold feminist, when not a searing hot feminist, when not a disconcertingly light, breezy and trivializing feminist; my mother, when not having some sort of catharsis for herself through a breakdown and drinking, was usually hostile; if you knew my father, you could have some sense of why she was that way. I’m over that, and its not my point to complain, but to state the fact of why I needed some vicarious identity - which could neither so easily be had with my family nor with my (((diverse, multicultural society and its programs of forced integration.)))

OK, so, I was ripe for some escapism and masculine aggressive identification - a quasi serious thing, treated seriously by adults.

At the same time, through programs of school “integration”, by the school year of 1970 my homeroom teacher was black, and there were plenty of blacks in the integrated class of my local elementary school. But in 1971-72, the integration program bused me to Nishuane, a mostly black school - and a nightmare.

Again, this wasn’t long after Malcolm X declared that “the Honorable Elijah Muhammad said that the black man would rule” and not long after the black race riots in 1967 burned the nearby town where I was born, Newark; while it was taboo to take an identitarian stance against even saying anything about that, even then.

I’ve already mentioned a Bobby Murcer home run in September 1971 and the compellingness, the soothing reliability of baseball statistics, but there was something even more immediately mainlining into the older parts of the brain of the sports thing - NFL films.

I’m sure this kind of thing hooked many a kid, not just me.

In this I got a program, maybe what we’d now call a site, to identify with the venting of my spleen, my rage, will to action, to run, to identify with a tribe, to bask in the glory and to identify with, well, actually, White guys…..and we could share in widespread appreciation that was not forthcoming, personally, i.e., whereas we might otherwise not be given much support in identity (((to say the least))). In this quasi-identity, with our masculine strength alone and mere uniforms distinguishing teams [the players did not even come from the towns that “they played for!”] we could at least assimilate fighting for an identity together, not against our own - quite unlike my family, my (((American society))) and my Europe.

“The fearsome foursome”, Deacon Jones, Merlin Olsen ...the cool uniforms, winning ways, Roman Gabriel, exotic Los Angeles. I could identify fiercely with them. On Monday night, October 24 1970, my parents let me stay up late….almost..I got to see Kermit Alexander’s exhilarating punt return….the Rams were stopped on the goal line just before halftime. I was broken hearted, but optimistic that they could play the Vikings, they could win. I didn’t want to be torn away from the TV but my parents would not let me stay up..

I wasn’t paying attention to his race in that moment, he was on my side, my team

That moment set off an adrenaline rush as lights gleamed off streaking helmets, followed by the frustration of losing to the Vikings, a threatening team in uniforms just as cool as the Rams. From the cold north, men in Viking helmets came to play men in Ram helmets. Fascination set in.

It is something of a challenge to provide alternatives to young White boys to the visual appeal and action of sports like football which blacks can do well (similar as the challenge of black musical ability and audio appeals, it even has some addictive properties).

I would remain fiercely loyal to my side and could not tolerate losing, fairly bad though Rams records were compared to the late 60’s and what was to come in the 70’s; even though the Vikings just about always got the best of them in the playoffs - and in excruciating manner.

In the 1974 playoffs, not only did White Rams fans suffer the indignation of having their team headed by one of the first black quarterbacks (And I didn’t like it. Quarterback, the helm leader, was always a firmly White position), but they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory against the Vikings, again thwarted at the goal line.

       
After starting hemmed at their own goal line, the Rams went the full length of the field to the Vikings goal line, where Harris threw an interception and the Vikings reversed fortune.

The Rams had a first down on the Vikings’ one-yard line at the time. The penalty made it second and six, but quarterback James Harris threw an interception into the end zone on the next play and the Vikings eventually won, 14-10.

       
James Harris, one of the first black N.F.L. quarterbacks, helps the Rams to lose again to the Vikings in the 1974 playoffs.

Full Episode: In 1974, the Rams should of played the NFC Championship game against the Vikings in 70 degree Los Angeles instead of -12 degree wind chill factor Minnesota. Both teams were 10-4, and the Rams had won their one regular-season meeting. Until 1975, however, the NFL rotated playoff sites, and it was the NFC Central’s turn to play host to the conference championship game. Forget about it being the NFC Championship game, name me any game that a team goes over 99 yards and gets no points and loses by 4 points. OVER 99 YARDS!!! That doesn’t happen in Pop Warner. This is what happened. In the 3rd quarter, the Vikings hold a 7-3 lead. A punt pinned the Rams inside their 1-yard line, but we moved out of danger to their 25. Then Harris hit Harold Jackson for a 73-yard gain. Jackson should have scored, but he was nudged out of bounds by Jeff Wright at the Vikings’ 2. One play later the Rams were less than six inches from a 10-7 lead. But Harris, who could have fallen forward for the go-ahead TD, switched to a long count.The refs said Hall of Fame guard Tom Mack flinched, costing the Rams five yards. Two plays later, linebacker Wally Hilgenberg intercepted Harris’ tipped pass in the end zone. The Rams had gone 99 yards and produced no points. We lose by 4 points. The Viking curse.

In 1976 the Rams got thwarted on the goal-line in the playoffs against the Vikings once again.

In the 1976 playoffs, the Rams returned to the dreaded frozen north for another NFC title game. The temperature at kickoff was nine degrees.

The cold didn’t seem to bother the Rams, who drove smartly down to the one-yard line, but then their luck—and maybe their confidence—froze. Knox sent wide receiver Ron Jessie on an end-around to the right, where Jessie was met at the goal line by a pack of purple defenders.

“He scored on the play,” McCutcheon said. “I saw the ball over the (goal) line, in the end zone. They spotted the ball like on the one-inch line.”

The Rams had cause to feel an ominous chill at that moment.

“We still had a couple of more plays to get the ball in,” McCutcheon said. “I think he (Knox) called a quarterback sneak with (Pat) Haden and some other play I can’t remember.

“That was really disappointing because we were one inch from the goal line, and that was the year we were running the ball so well—25-Lead, 44-Lead. I thought at that time we would certainly want to get the ball to one of our backs—preferably myself.

“I couldn’t believe the quarterback sneak. So (on fourth down) we decided to go for the field goal, and they block it and take it back 99 yards.”

Actually, it was only 90, but old Rams still have nightmares of Viking Bobby Bryant scooping up Tom Dempsey’s aborted field goal attempt and racing toward the other end of the field. Jack Youngblood was so heartsick after the game that he couldn’t talk—literally couldn’t talk—for 15 minutes

While in 1977 it had been meteorological frustration, surprisingly, on the home turf…

               
The 1977 “Mudbowl” stuck the erstwhile viable Rams in mud and loss to the Vikings yet again

Coming back to the onset of my enmeshment in this identity in 1970, I had wanted to identify with black Deacon Jones and was glad when his fearsome play was on our side, but I couldn’t quite - I thought that he looked weird. I wanted rather to identify with Jim Bertelsen, Jack Youngblood, Fred Dryer, Roman Gabriel and Jack Snow.

Yet just another few years before I’d had fantastic temper-tantrums when having my tonsils out. I did not like the chocolate nurses.

I plead innocent besides - how was I to know who Kermit Alexander was and what he could come to mean to us… why should I believe that adults would let this happen, when what was happening by way of blacks was so obviously bad in terms of their hyper-assertiveness.

Who’d want to live with these people who burned Newark, made things so ugly, but nevertheless had the nerve to say that they’d rule us?

Unbeknownst to me, this was the football season following the Super Bowl (IV) played by the first majority black team - The Kansas City Chiefs. That is to say nothing, of course, of my nine year old awareness (lack thereof) of the (((egregious forces and purposes))) behind the 1964 Civil Rights Act, The 1965 Immigration and Naturalization Act, and the 1968 Rumsford Fair Housing Act…

My father told me that the Chiefs would “three-point-them (the Vikings)-to-death.” Place-kicker Jan Stenarud (3) and quarterback/holder Len Dawson (16) were a few of the minority of Whites on the Super Bowl winning Kansas City Chiefs - already, in 1970, a majority black N.F.L. football team, albeit the first one.

Whites playing the objectivist game gamely, but upended by first majority black team, Kansas City Chiefs, in Super Bowl III, January 1970.

By 1972 the war was ending and feminism, no longer constrained by the double standard of the (male only) draft and with it, the background need to grant some leeway to male protest for Being, came unhinged. I needed vicarious male identity more than ever.

Action against the San Francisco 49ers

N.F.L. Film’s style captured attention with Yoshi Kishi’s innovative editing, John Facenda’s deep voiced, stern narration and Sam Spence’s riveting music: With slow motion, fast motion, varied shots, bustling action and music, music of burly combat, “Sunday with soul” - that music so compelling to the emotions of a kid who wants his identity ultimately dramatized, ranging from the toughest, the most earnest quest, manly American quest, epoch exhilaration to dark, grim, wide ranging venture, and heartbreaking sympathy, “the game that got away” - while husky voiced narrators, John Facenda and Pat Summerall in particular, embellished the seriousness of it all. The music here, during minute 1:12 - 2:20, as background to a Redskins - Eagles game, is particularly intriguing: here it is by itself - “undercover man” - one of my favorite among these Sam Spence and William Loose tunes. “The Horse” was not included among NFL film songs, but was/is a marching band staple along the sidelines of high school games that achieves much of the same sentimental effect. And there was that Monday Night Football intro music.

...another compelling tune to add to the collection - starting second 017.

If GW wonders what Hitler had going for him to excite a stadium and crowds in the street, well he certainly had something going for him, he must have, because he didn’t even have war action going on at the time, let alone some of the things that the NFL has to draw-in and compel mass allegiance..

But while NFL Films served to seduce, corrupt and divert my identity for some time from better pursuits, it is also worth talking about how we might perhaps use some of its techniques to deploy to our cause.

At least it was something that people were paying attention to. It was not merely the moment when Kermit Alexander’s fast twitching muscle fibers sprinted toward the end zone ..it was that and much more..

Tommy Prothro, with grim adult discipline and sacrifice of hours of training before the glory of the fans arrive.

Fans

Cheerleaders and marching bands

There were massive stadiums packed with fans, pageantry, marching bands, cheerleaders…

Paul Brown, the mature display of serious business when the masses of fans did arrive.

Here they were, the L.A. Rams - an opportunity for the requisite, more objective identity for me: they were from far away Los Angeles, with a team that was coming out of the 1960’s with great records and an awesome manly reputation. My older brother told me that they had the “The Fearsome Foursome” - their defensive line featuring Deacon Jones, Merlin Olsen ..later Fred Dryer and Jack Youngblood ..with their cool names, add quarterback Roman Gabriel to that regard. They had the coolest uniforms too.

Helmet

Fred Dryer

Jack Youngblood

Jack Youngblood about to lower the boom

Fred Dryer making a sack with Youngblood in hot pursuit.

Roman Gabriel, a very cool name for the quarterback playing for the Rams in The Los Angeles Coliseum..

Roman Gabriel

Roman Gabriel vs Vikings in ‘70

Concern

Action vs Minnesota Vikings

Roman Gabriel vs. Minnesota Vikings in 1972

The Fearsome Foursome inveighs against The Philadelphia Eagles

While Youngblood (85) was my favorite on Defense…

Jim Bertelsen (45) was my favorite on offense..

Jim Bertelsen


Jim Bertelsen bolting past Atlanta Falcon defenders.

Now let’s step away from the Pattern, the Relationships and come back to the Episode and the Kermit Alexnder Moment…

The Moment in 1970

The Episode in 1970 - actually two episodes in succession: punt return; and then goal line stand.

Goal line stand episode begins with the Rams in huddle

Sportsfanship in that Episode..(they look like girls sent by mom to church choir practice).

..and see how the Relationships and Patterns of White objectivism unfolded, especially in (((context)))...

READ MORE...

In fact, a smooth and amazingly blended rainbow trout mask replica..

  for Carolyn..
                 
Particularly recommended for your listening pleasure are the cuts: Ella Guru
                              ...“here she comes walkin’, lookin’ like a zoo, high YElla Guru”
                          Hair Pie Bake2        Dachau Blues      She can’t go to the beach because her hands are too small.

Neon Meat Dream of a Octafish .. “mucous mules fox trot, tra la, tra la, tra la, tra la”...                                         

...but they are all quite good  

                              ...drives a cartoon..

             
Graham doesn’t want us exporting our American culture :(

     
A conspiracy theory of a conspiracy theory about hippies

    ..fast and bulbous           ..fast and bulbous                       ..and a tin tear drop.

READ MORE...

                       
                            A flat chest is infinitely better than implants…

A big nose far better than a character-depriving nose job..

READ MORE...

                                   
                “Wise men see outlines and therefore they draw them”

  D: Don’t be silly. I can’t draw a conversation. I mean things.

  F: Yes—I was trying to find out just what you meant. Do you mean “Why do we give things outlines when we draw them?” or do you mean that the things have out-lines whether we draw them or not?

  D: I don’t know, Daddy. You tell me. Which do I mean?

  F: I don’t know, my dear. There was a very angry artist once who scribbled all sorts of things down, and after he was dead they looked in his books and in one place they found he’d written “Wise men see outlines and therefore they draw them” but in another place he’d written “Mad men see outlines and therefore they draw them.”

  D: But which does he mean? I don’t understand.

  F: Well, William Blake—that was his name—was a great artist and a very angry man. And sometimes he rolled up his ideas into little spitballs so that he could throw them at people.

  D: But what was he mad about, Daddy?

  F: But what was he mad about? Oh, I see—you mean “angry.” We have to keep those two meanings of “mad” clear if we are going to talk about Blake. Because a lot of people thought he was mad—really mad—crazy. And that was one of the things he was mad-angry about. And then he was mad-angry, too, about some artists who painted pictures as though things didn’t have out-lines. He called them “the slobbering school.”

  D: He wasn’t very tolerant, was he, Daddy?

  F: Tolerant? Oh, God. Yes, I know—that’s what they drum into you at school. No, Blake was not very tolerant. He didn’t even think tolerance was a good thing. It was just more slobbering. He thought it blurred all the outlines and muddled everything—that it made all cats gray. So that nobody would be able to see anything clearly and sharply.

  D: Yes, Daddy.

  F: No, that’s not the answer. I mean “Yes, Daddy” is not the answer. All that says is that you don’t know what your opinion is—and you don’t give a damn what I say or what Blake says and that the school has so befuddled you with talk about tolerance that you can-not tell the difference between anything and anything else.

READ MORE...

Am I really seeing that?