Transcendental Titans

Revolt Against Modernity

Category: Technology

The Age of Apocalypses

Josef Rebell – Sea Storm at the Arco di Miseno

“But the peasants – how do the peasants die?” – Leo Tolstoy

The sky is falling. We are bombarded daily with dire warnings: the planet is dying, nuclear hellfire is imminent, the global economy is collapsing, and AI will at best make us unemployed, and at worst destroy the human essence of society. Politics has fragmented into a collection of competing doomsday cults, each offering its own dystopian apocalypse that must be acknowledged as the primary threat to humanity itself. Rather than galvanizing the masses to collective action to avert these imagined or real catastrophes, the public is increasingly succumbing to apathy and inaction, paralysed by the sheer multitude and enormity of the problems facing them and their perceived total lack of ability to ameliorate these crises. This downward shift in the collective consciousness has profound implications for those seeking to manifest change in the world. In such a period of mass neurosis, the demographic replacement of whites simply becomes one disaster amongst the myriad.

Often white advocates are frustrated that despite the replete and growing examples of the failure of multiculturalism from terrorist attacks to unmanageable and endless migrant flows, large sections of our people fail to acknowledge the problem. This is at best a partial truth. While it could be argued that in the 1980s or even the 1990s that many of our people were genuinely unaware of the problems of multiculturalism, or at the very least the true extent of them, in 2023 those living in true ignorance are a vanishingly small group. The question for those who have not accepted our credo is now no longer whether our claims that demographic replacement is occurring are true, but whether this matters more than the other pressing problems society faces. This conclusion will be anathema to many on the radical Right, who will state that it is self-evident that the extinction of our ethnic group is the most salient problem of our time, and all other problems are downstream of this. If we could simply regain control of the levers of power, all other problems could be overcome, the argument goes.

The inconvenient truth is that for many people, this line of logic is not self-evident. The connection between saving the white race and solving the crushing problems they face on a day-to-day basis is a tangential one. It is the case that huge numbers may well even agree with us that mass migration and demographic decline are grave social ills, but when faced with nosediving standards of living and economic prosperity, a rapidly degrading environment, and the prospect of global conflict this seems a secondary priority. Even the avenues by which action to avert demographic disaster might be taken seem doubtful and fraught with intractable problems. How can voting for nationalist parties be a solution when the electoral system itself has been called into question? What difference does the ethnic composition of your neighbourhood make if tyrannical technocrats can institute global lockdowns and trample the freedom of all, regardless of race? And what solution can white advocacy offer when the most important active war in the world is one which is intra-European?

Our political work must be informed by an understanding that globalisation is not only an economic process, but a psychological one. Where once the scale of reference for the average individual was local or national, in an interconnected world even the most parochial minds are not immune to thinking on a planetary scale. This shift has manifested itself recently in Elon Musk raising the problem of falling birthrates – not amongst whites, but as a global process heralding disaster not only in the West, but in countries as disparate as India, China, and Japan. It was not that long ago that aging populations and vanishing countries were spoken of as exclusively a problem inherent to dying Western societies, but now infertility has gone global as a trapping of modern materialism and its seemingly inevitable reproductive dysfunction. This has given rise to a deracinated pro-natal argument: a fall in global population will be a disaster for us all, and it will disproportionately affect higher-IQ countries.

This white noise has muddied the waters of our efforts to make the case that European countries should stay European. It is in part a function of an over reliance on purely utilitarian arguments which state we should save our ethnic group because we are statistically on the average more productive and more intelligent. If our arguments for our continued existence are solely based on materialist claims, they are open to relativist subversion. We must animate our people not only by logical and rational claims, but by also making metaphysical and emotional appeals. Our group is not monolithic; there is no single approach that will inspire every individual to urgent action. Our platform must be multifaceted and focus on activating a broad base.

We must also acknowledge we are being buffeted by tremendous countervailing psychologically demoralising and malicious attempts to prey on our racial sense of morality and fairness. While Elon may have positioned himself as the most well known pro-natal advocate, huge swathes of our people have bought into the idea that global population decline is in fact a desirable outcome, to save the planet from total destruction. In the infertility arms race we are simply ahead of the pack; we are making a Christ like sacrifice by lessening our own numbers to save humanity writ large. And we are doing so with total moral authority because whiteness itself has been vilified to the point that many of our people are deeply afraid of it.

It is not hyperbole to state that for a significant proportion of our group Whiteness itself is in fact another disaster, associated only with injustice, genocide, slavery, and oppression. While we can complain that this is a psychological operation foisted on us by malevolent outside groups with our worst interests at heart, this does not lessen the reality of the pervasiveness of this neurosis. Pointing out a fear is irrational rarely dispels that fear in the minds of those who have a deeply ingrained phobia. We cannot heal the souls of such people by impotently complaining that our enemies wage psychological war upon us, but only by winning this tug of war taking place in the shared imagination of our folk.

The 2019 horror movie Midsommar presented a folkish, bucolic, homogenous and traditional Swedish society as the setting for occult murder and inbred evil traditions, building on the demonisation of similar themes in the Wicker Man of 1973. It may seem laughable to those involved in dissident right politics that the traditional modes of living our ancestors enjoyed are scary to many of our people today, while multicultural cities where crime and terrorism are increasingly frequent are not, but nevertheless this narrative has warped the psyche of our people. This gets to the heart of the problem with our strategy. We can devote huge amounts of time and energy to pointing out racial crime statistics, individual acts of interracial violence, and examples of social breakdown and degeneracy, but ultimately, we have been unable to terrorise our people with messianic visions of disaster as well as our opponents have done. Put simply, we cannot move the needle in our direction by adding more woes to an already embattled and beleaguered collective consciousness. Our enemies are too proficient in wielding and distributing despair.

If we cannot win the battle to present the most convincing apocalypse, we must instead adopt another tack. We must strike back with the most potent weapons in our arsenal: hope and inspiration. In an epoch of disasters defined by the almost unanimous belief that nothing can be fixed, and everything will get worse, we must be the voice of spiritual renewal and racial resurrection. We must set our sights higher – we should not only make the nebulous claim that we will save our people, but also, we will make for them a world worth living in. If our enemies say that whiteness is only a force of destruction and evil, we must conclusively prove them to be liars by our words and deeds. If our flock is threatened by the howling of distant wolves, it is incumbent upon us to take up the role of shepherds, herding them away from dangers both imagined and real.     

In all that we do, we must emulate the example of Gabriele D’Annunzio in his daring 1918 ariel raid behind enemy lines over the city of Vienna, risking his life to drop tens of thousands of propaganda leaflets to a stunned and ostensibly hostile audience. We must embrace the theatre of the grand gesture which ignites the imagination of all who witness it. We must be a relentless whirlwind of energy and hope, delivering the unwavering message that we will not only secure our existence, but we will fix the economy, we will restore the environment, we will bend technology to our ends, and not become subservient to it. We will resolve the fratricidal conflicts of our age, and at the eleventh hour, we will save the world from disaster.

It may seem a fantastical and naïve approach to claim we will fix the world, when we are so far in the wilderness, lacking the power or resources to implement even one policy in our favour. Yet if our people are wracked by huge doubts, if their waking nightmares are so terrifying, half-measures are useless. We must take a defibrillator to the heart of our people; we must administer a psycho- spiritual EpiPen to a race in anaphylactic shock. Whiteness has been the organising principle and engine of history for millennia, it is not we who are the ones who are attempting the impossible by returning to this state of affairs, but our opponents who are doomed to failure by trying to remake the world without us. The genius strategy of European evolution has always depended on the explosive imagination of a few heroic individuals, and it is time for us to accept this mantle of responsibility once again. If our people cannot envisage a future for themselves, it is time for us to articulate one for them to believe in. In a world of rack and ruin, where all seems lost, we must be the lighthouse, the shining beacon, guiding our people home and out of their deep despair in The Age of Apocalypses.

The Death of the Tactile World

Many theories have been posited as the cause of the decline of the Western world, from demographic disaster and dysgenics to spiritual malaise and the death of Christianity. Yet while these phenomena are symptoms of our collapsing societies, they do not fully explain why we have embarked on our wholesale self-destruction. Could it be that we have let our world descend into rack and ruin, because we simply do not live there anymore? For the vast majority of the developed world cyberspace has supplanted reality. The metaverse is not a dystopian corporate dream, but in fact already a daily lived reality, one more powerful than the physical, tactile world we inhabit. Our Twitter feed, our Instagram followers, our bespoke media bubble, and big business algorithms are the dominant pillars of the modern psyche.

The observation that the internet has fuelled political polarisation is not a novel one, and it is easy to chart the acceleration of societal fragmentation in tandem with the rise of the smart phone and the app economy. We are engaged in an unprecedented psycho-technological experiment, with the levers of control firmly in the hands of a small unaccountable digital elite. They have perfected the art of manipulating human emotions, presenting the atypical as typical, magnifying outrage when needed, and minimising it when inconvenient. They have succeeded in quite literally rewiring the human brain, turning us into dopamine addicts. It is now being observed that IQ is declining because attention spans have been so severely impaired by the ever more sensational demands for our fleeting attention in cyberspace. Each iteration of the digital experiment has distilled the essence of manipulation into a finer and finer art. We have been seduced to abandon the real world for the pleasures of the simulated one.

It is hard to overstate the magnitude of this transformation not only on political discourse, but on society as a whole. Our lives have taken on a hollow, performative aspect as we do things not for ourselves, but to document them for others. Undoubtedly, the rise of China and its flood of cheap plastic products in part owes to the fact we no longer care about the quality of things we own in the real world; they serve only as utilitarian ends to allow us to get back online. We are now spending more time alone than ever, living vicariously through the parasocial relationships with our favourite streamers, podcasters, and content creators. Even when we are not alone technology has provided ample opportunities for us to atomise ourselves. When we travel on crowded public transport populated by alien and dysfunctional people, we can simply put our Air Pods in to ignore this inconvenient truth.

The end result of this constant diet of media consumption is mass passivity. We no longer live in the society of the spectacle because there is no coherent external society to identify with anymore. We live a totally atomised experience, in which the only choice we are granted is to select our next media hit to consume from an ever-changing smorgasbord of Netflix shows, microtransaction riddled video games, vacuous YouTube and Facebook videos and Onlyfans pornography. All anti-system political ideologies have been neutered by this process which replaces action with infotainment, while the new puppet masters of Plato’s cave hide our activities from the public through algorithmic manipulation.

Both mainstream and dissident commentators have largely failed to conceptualise this total sea change in the human experience and have no viable response to it. Crude primitivist critiques which implore that we should do away with technology and return to a purer state of nature will ultimately find no purchase. No technological innovation once unleashed has been willingly relinquished in human history; the genie will not be put back in the bottle. The traditionalist gurus who advocated total disengagement and a retreat to the land largely just ended up tweeting their nostrums with slower internet connections.

We are not in any case, fundamentally engaged in a battle with technology itself. Though the wisdom of a total reliance on devices dependent on rare earth minerals and increasingly scare semiconductors may be questioned, technology in itself is value neutral. It is the use it is put to that is paramount. We are ultimately involved in a struggle for the direction of our collective imagination, and this battle is not new, but in fact a perennial one.

Humans have always created other realms of dreams and hopes, that manifest themselves only partially in the real and physical world. When an illiterate medieval peasant gazed upon a stained-glass cathedral window he was transported to another divine plane, beyond the strictly temporal. For much of human history novels and letters served to externalise our waking dreams; to birth a collective consciousness that could persist beyond the span of a human life. Before the advent of the internet, cinema and television served the function of this other world, not at all reflecting reality but instead creating an alternative one which informed the physical world.

Yet all these technologies have suffered the same fate, to be corrupted and rendered ultimately spiritually sickening by the ruthless application of liberal and egalitarian values. When a technology has intellectual, ethnic, and economic barriers to its use it is a spiritually vitalising force. Writing bolstered us when it was the preserve of the learned class, the tool of monks and philosophers. In its infancy, television was predicated on the belief that it could be used to elevate the masses, through documentaries and informed discussions. It is not accidental that the first blockbuster movie, The Birth of a Nation, was a race-affirming inegalitarian exhortation. The early internet was the preserve of economic and intellectual elites, the finest Western minds of the time. There was a meritocracy in its limited usership, who were driven to push the technology to expand our consciousness and realise our dreams.

Paradoxically, when technologies are democratised, they necessarily become less free and are determined by the worst, rather than the best elements of society. It is not the case therefore that the internet has ruined society, but rather that liberal egalitarianism has destroyed the internet, in the same fashion it polluted and ultimately destroyed our connection to the tactile world. The internet was created as an escape pod, a promise for unfettered communication and communal dreaming for those disaffected by our already collapsing real world. Our white flight to cyberspace has sadly now come to an end, as the third worlding of the internet takes place, presided over by megacorporations hellbent on monetising, censoring, and narrative control.

Our response to this must be two-fold. Firstly, we must re-engage with the tactile world and break free of the pernicious and all-consuming hypnosis of an alien-controlled internet. We must take ownership of our own lives, and reimbue ourselves with a Heideggerian sense of authenticity, no longer performatively living for others, but living purely for ourselves and our people. At the present time, doing things in the real world is a revolutionary act. Yet it is unrealistic to expect we will simply unplug ourselves from the digital matrix completely however, especially as more and more functions of the real world become centralised there. We must then instead change our approach to the digital second world.

Despite all its corruptions and flaws, the internet still provides us with an incredible opportunity to network with the best of our people. We must reach out to other like-minded individuals and continue to keep the dream of our people alive. Together we can stoke our Faustian imagination and keep it burning bright, working towards the next great technology that will enable yet bigger dreams for us. This time, we must safeguard it against the encroachment of egalitarianism and debasing liberalisation. We must work together to imagine a future for us, by us, which complements rather than replaces our natural, tactile world.