1/ Immigration isn’t an economic issue—it’s political. A nation is defined by its people, not GDP or "diversity." Policies that prioritize profits and demographic change over identity destroy heritage, trust, and unity. America must reclaim its sovereignty and future. 🧵👇 2/ America: A Nation, Not a Marketplace

We often hear the refrain from those on the "right" that America is a nation, not a marketplace. But what does this truly mean?

A nation is far more than an economy—it is a people, bound by shared heritage, culture, and identity.

Reducing immigration to an economic debate strips a nation of its essence, transforming it into a soulless marketplace where citizens and immigrants alike become interchangeable units of labor. This materialist view erases the fundamental questions that define a nation: who we are, what unites us, and what future we will secure for our people.

The current "discussion" around H-1B visas epitomizes this betrayal. Framed as a debate over wages and productivity, it ignores the deeper cultural and political consequences. Pitched as a way to attract "the best and brightest," the program has become a tool of corporate greed, displacing loyal White Americans with cheaper foreign labor.

Wages stagnate, opportunities disappear, and the dignity of the American workforce is sacrificed for GDP growth. Meanwhile, the ethnocultural costs—fractured communities, diminished trust, and eroded national identity—are dismissed entirely. These are not just economic concerns; they are existential ones. Who belongs in this nation? Whose interests are being served? What legacy will endure?

This fixation on economics distracts from the greater threat: H-1B doesn’t just exploit labor—it accelerates demographic and cultural displacement, undermining the unity and identity of America’s founding population. This is not merely a policy issue; it is a question of survival.

Economic policy, including immigration, must serve the people—ensuring their prosperity, preserving their heritage, and safeguarding their future. A nation is not a workforce to be exploited or a market to be harvested; it is a homeland for its people, and its policies must reflect this truth.

This betrayal is emblematic of a new strain of "left-wing capitalism," where corporate greed aligns with the ethnic ambitions of those seeking to reshape America into something resembling their own homelands, displacing its founding people in the process. Together, they erode the bonds of trust, kinship, and identity that make a people strong and unified.

Immigration is not just an economic issue; it is inherently political. It dictates power, identity, and survival. Aristotle and the ancients understood this, warning of the dangers posed by divided populations. Tyrants exploit diversity, fracturing the unity of a people to weaken resistance and consolidate control.

And so, we turn to diversity and its demographic impact. Diversity is lauded as immigration’s greatest strength, but under scrutiny, it fails to unify. Instead, it corrodes trust, fractures cohesion, and weakens the foundation of a thriving, harmonious, and secure nation.

1/ "The Age of Entitlement" by Christopher Caldwell exposes how the Civil Rights Revolution created a rival constitution—tearing apart American identity, traditions, and freedoms. Essential reading for anyone seeking to understand America’s decline and the West’s unraveling.🧵👇 2/ "The Age of Entitlement": A Blueprint for America’s Betrayal

Christopher Caldwell’s "The Age of Entitlement: America Since the Sixties" delivers a sharp critique of how America’s foundational principles—and the people who built them—were subverted and replaced by a system prioritizing ideology over heritage, bureaucracy over freedom, and diversity over unity. It is both a historical analysis and a call to action for those who value identity and legacy to grasp what is truly at stake.

Caldwell argues that the Civil Rights Revolution of the 1960s created a "Second Constitution," displacing the original American framework. Rooted in affirmative action and political correctness, this rival framework dismantled freedoms of association, speech, and the longstanding meritocratic principles that defined American—and Western—civilization.

Western civilization’s success lay in its ability to elevate the best and brightest to positions of authority based on ability and performance. This approach embraced hierarchy rooted in competence over inherited privilege, fostering a culture of excellence and social mobility. However, under the guise of addressing so-called “historical injustices,” the Regime implemented diversity mandates and mass immigration, fundamentally reshaping the nation’s cultural and demographic identity to the detriment of its historic majority.

Caldwell reveals how the Civil Rights Act became a catalyst for sweeping societal transformation. The once-dominant ethnocultural identity of America’s European-descended majority, forged through blood, sweat, and sacrifice, was recast as oppressive. This redefinition fueled policies and narratives that eroded their standing, actively contributing to their dispossession and ethnocultural erasure.

What began as a call for “justice” devolved into a campaign to fracture the nation’s cohesion. As the ancients understood, tyranny thrives by creating a divided, heterogeneous population—one easier to control and more loyal to the Regime than to a unified people or nation.

Like all revolutions, the Civil Rights Revolution extended far beyond the law. From the Sexual Revolution to modern corporate wokeness, its ideological project sought to replace America with a globalized society where individuals are reduced to interchangeable cogs in an economic machine, prioritizing elite profits over the nation’s continuity and posterity.

The result has been deepening division and alienation, as policies promote demographic—and therefore cultural—fragmentation over unity, eroding the shared identity that once defined the Historic American Nation.

Rejecting sanitized myths of a “good” Civil Rights Movement, Caldwell reveals its outcomes as the inevitable result of its founding principles. Systems rooted in Enlightenment values—equality and universalism—whether contemporary democracy or outright communism, pursue abstract ideals detached from reality and the natural order.

Elites—politicians, academics, corporate leaders, and the intelligentsia—exploited these changes for power and profit, reshaping the nation while leaving its historic majority increasingly disoriented, marginalized, and powerless to secure their future.

Caldwell’s work exposes the Second Constitution as the harbinger of modern America’s demographic decline, cultural disintegration, and division. More broadly, it underscores its role in the collapse of the West itself, as America—for better or worse—has been the driving force shaping the Western world’s orientation since 1945.

1/ Liberalism claims neutrality, but it is anything but neutral. Beneath its facade of freedom lies a totalitarian agenda—one that transforms the West, all erases distinctions, and imposes a worldview as absolute as any ideology it attacks. 🧵👇 2/ At its core, liberalism promises liberty, equality, and neutrality—a world where people are free to choose their own paths without interference.

But this promise is a sleight of hand. It masks a project that dissolves people & cultures, flattens hierarchies, and commodifies life itself.

It destroys.

1/ “Democracy is a false idol—a mere catchword and illusion of inferior classes, visionaries, and dying civilizations.”

Let’s discuss the worldview of the brilliant H.P. Lovecraft.

A Thread 🧵👇 2/ "The Shadows Over Modernity": A Political Reading of Lovecraft

For many contemporary, liberal-minded pearl-clutchers, the true horror in H.P. Lovecraft's work is not confined to the shadowy corners of Arkham or the depths of the cosmic abyss but lies in his worldview—an uncompromising critique of modernity that defied the egalitarian dogmas of his time. Far from being the escapist musings of a misanthropic recluse, Lovecraft’s body of work reveals a mind deeply engaged with the tectonic shifts of early 20th-century civilization. His fiction, brimming with existential dread and cosmic indifference, often reflected his broader civilizational and political anxieties.

Lovecraft’s lesser-known works, such as "The Horror at Red Hook" and "The Street," are particularly illustrative of his civilizational concerns. "The Horror at Red Hook" conveys Lovecraft’s anxieties about the demographic and cultural transformations of early 20th-century New York, portraying a neighborhood engulfed by sinister occult practices and what he saw as the destabilizing effects of foreign, non-Anglo influences. Beneath its supernatural narrative lies a critique of unchecked immigration and urbanization, which Lovecraft associated with the erosion of traditional Anglo-American society. It is, at its core, a symbolic confrontation between an established order and the disruptive forces of modernity.

Similarly, "The Street" embodies Lovecraft’s Spenglerian view of civilizational decline. The story recounts the demise of a once-prosperous street, constructed by noble forebears, as it falls to neglect, demographic transformation, and violent revolution. Through this narrative, Lovecraft expresses his disdain for what he perceived as the destruction of Western ethnocultural identity under the pressures of egalitarianism and cosmopolitanism.

These stories, and many others—spanning more than 60 major published works—transcend horror, serving as politically charged reflections on what Lovecraft viewed as the existential and cultural crises of his time.

He aligned himself with cultural critics who viewed capitalism and Marxism as two sides of the same materialist coin, each reducing mankind to a mere economic cipher. Rejecting both ideologies, he championed an aristocratic hierarchy rooted in tradition, excellence, and order—a framework he believed essential for preserving civilizational vitality and resisting the decadence inherent in democratic and socialist systems.

1/ Walter F. Otto’s "The Homeric Gods" reveals a world where life itself is divine, action is sacred, and heroism defines a man's worth. It challenges the sterility of modernity, summoning us to reclaim the ancient virtues of courage, dignity, and the pursuit of greatness. 🧵👇 2/ The Divine Nature of Homeric Life

I’m often asked about Homer and the world of his "Iliad" and "Odyssey." To understand these works is to step into a world profoundly different from our own—a world where life was seen as divine, action as sacred, and greatness as the measure of man. Few capture this essence better than Walter Otto in his "The Homeric Gods."

Otto brings the ancient world vividly to life, offering a portrait unclouded by modern assumptions. For the Greeks, life was neither a burden to escape nor a sin to atone for—it was to be embraced in its full beauty and terror. There was no promise of redemption, no salvation from suffering. The gods demanded not piety but boldness, judging man by his deeds, his strength, and his ability to transcend mediocrity.

This ethos could not be further removed from the values of modernity, which exchange nobility for comfort and heroism for the empty rhetoric of equality. Otto’s work invites us to confront this contrast, calling us to rediscover the ancient virtues of courage, action and excellence.

In Homer’s world, to live without striving was not to live at all.

1/ Equality is the most destructive lie of our age. It masquerades as a moral virtue while eroding the foundations of civilization. Beneath its facade lies a corrosive force that denies excellence, reduces ambition, and flattens everything noble into mediocrity. 🧵👇 2/ Nature abhors equality. Everywhere, from the mountains to the oceans, from the animal kingdom to human societies, we see hierarchy, distinction, and order. To impose equality is to wage war against the very structure of life itself.

Jonathan Bowden argued that meaning arises from difference, or inequality. This insight cuts to the heart of Western decline: in our obsession with equality, we’re erasing the very distinctions that create value. What remains when we destroy the foundation of meaning itself? 🧵👇 2/ Value manifests in two ways: qualitative (unique, special) and quantitative (superior, measurable). Both depend on inequality. When distinctions vanish, so does value. Equality isn’t a leveling—it’s a void, consuming everything that gives life its meaning.

1/ Liberalism is the scourge of our age: it erodes identity, severs men from their roots, and reduces European man to a soulless consumer. Where the West once upheld truth and beauty, liberalism leaves sterility, decay, and a barren world where nothing endures. 2/ Liberalism is no mere set of policies or economic principles—it is the ideological engine of modern decay. It elevates the individual to the status of a false god, severing him from all that binds him to the eternal: land, kin, and faith. He is told he is “free,” yet he is utterly lost.

This liberal exaltation of the isolated individual robs him of all identity. He is stripped of belonging, cast adrift as a rootless automaton. The sacred bonds of family and community, which once gave life structure and meaning, are dismantled in the name of emancipation.

1/ S.C. Gwynne’s "Empire of the Summer Moon" offers no romanticized Wild West—it’s a land of shadows and terror, where survival isn’t a right but a fleeting victory against chaos. Here, civilization clings to the edge, and death, brutal and deliberate, is never far from view. 🧵👇 2/ Introduction: A Story That Writes Itself

First and foremost, "Empire of the Summer Moon" is one of my favorite books on the history of the American Wild West. S.C. Gwynne is a fantastic writer, whose gift for storytelling breathes life into history. He not only delivers this haunting tale of the Texas frontier but also authored what I consider to be the best biography of Stonewall Jackson, "Rebel Yell: The Violence, Passion, and Redemption of Stonewall Jackson." His ability to capture the scale of historical events while never losing sight of the human drama is unmatched.

S.C. Gwynne’s "Empire of the Summer Moon" is more than a historical account; it is literature that cuts to the bone, a narrative that overwhelms with its raw power. Gwynne himself might humbly deflect praise, citing the sheer grandeur of his subject — the rise and fall of the Comanche nation — as the book’s true genius. And he would not be wrong. The history of the Comanche is layered with action, contradictions, and existential questions that captivate the imagination. It is a story of stark brutality and epic resistance, one that shakes the foundations of what we think we know about civilization, savagery, and survival.

For nearly two centuries, the Comanche dominated the Great Plains, creating an empire that spanned modern-day Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, New Mexico, and Colorado. Their ascendancy was fueled by an extraordinary mastery of horseback warfare, which turned an otherwise isolated, nomadic people into a near-unstoppable force. By the 18th century, they had not only carved out their own territory but also disrupted the expansionist ambitions of Spanish, French, Mexican, and eventually American settlers. They became the single most formidable indigenous power in the region, feared not only for their unparalleled skill in battle but also for the ruthlessness with which they protected their domain.

This was a people who rejected the static hierarchies of European-style empires. Their society was defined by mobility, decentralized leadership, and a warrior ethos that left no room for weakness. Their rise mirrored the natural rhythms of the harsh, unforgiving Plains — unpredictable, violent, and wholly attuned to survival. Yet, their brilliance in adapting to the challenges of their environment came at a cost. The Comanche empire was a precarious construct, built on the spoils of war and the exploitation of surrounding tribes. Their power was sustained through constant raiding, taking captives for slavery or ransom, and the strategic annihilation of rivals.

Yet, what elevates Gwynne’s work is his refusal to tell readers how to feel. He offers no easy conclusions, leaving the Comanche’s legacy open to interpretation. Their story — an unrelenting, merciless clash of civilizations — is at once horrifying and awe-inspiring. The Comanche were both conquerors and eventually conquered, a people whose brilliance in warfare could not shield them from the ceaseless advance of industrial Western civilization. In "Empire of the Summer Moon," Gwynne confronts us with questions of race, violence, and civilization, daring us to reckon with the past as it was, not as we wish it to be.

1/ Renaud Camus names what others deny: the "Great Replacement," the demographic crisis reshaping the very heart of the West. Vilified by elites, he writes with unflinching clarity. His "Enemy of the Disaster" is essential for those who refuse erasure. 🧵👇 2/ Renaud Camus: The Man and His Origins

Renaud Camus' (@RenaudCamus) "Enemy of the Disaster," the first comprehensive English-language collection of his writings (2007–2017), brought to us by @VaubanBooks, grants a rare, unfiltered view into the mind of the man who coined "the Great Replacement." A term now central to debates on Europe’s demographic upheaval, it has been endlessly caricatured by hostile intermediaries who label Camus a dangerous "extremist" without engaging his work. In a world built on secondhand narratives and strawmen, this volume bypasses the gatekeepers, delivering his voice directly to the Anglophone reader.

Camus defies easy categorization. He did not emerge from the "far right," as his enemies lazily assert, but from the intellectual avant-garde. His early life placed him among the luminaries of French thought—figures like Roland Barthes, Louis Aragon, and Marguerite Duras. Camus’ initial rise to prominence was not in political commentary but as a writer exploring the artistic and social fringes. Camus was, at the time, a darling of leftist intellectual circles, moving comfortably in the salons of Parisian high society.

But the radicalism of his youth took a sharp turn. Like Pier Paolo Pasolini, Camus evolved from a cultural provocateur into a dissident confronting the existential threats to his civilization. His journey was not ideological so much as observational. Witnessing firsthand the unraveling of French society, he began to speak out against the forces responsible for its dissolution. This transformation—from celebrated author to ostracized figure—was inevitable in a world where dissent from the ruling orthodoxy is treated as heresy.

In the ideological architecture of modernity, opposition to the Great Replacement—a term that accurately names the demographic upheaval sweeping Europe—is the gravest sin. The avant-garde circles that once embraced Camus turned their backs on him. The elites who praised his prose recoiled when he applied his sharp intellect to defend France, its people, and its heritage. For the cosmopolitan class, Camus’ intellectual pedigree is irrelevant; his willingness to name the truth is unforgivable.

1/ Frank Herbert’s "Dune" critiques modernity’s worship of the machine and spiritual collapse. It’s a saga of power and tradition, where the future lies not in blind progress but in restoring the natural order that has shape mankind for millennia. 🧵👇 2/ Dune as a Challenge to Modernity

In "The Decline of the West," Oswald Spengler characterized Western civilization as "Faustian," driven by an insatiable yearning for the infinite and the eternal. This spirit seeks to conquer not only the material world but the cosmos itself, striving for what may ultimately be unattainable. "Man is a beast of prey," Spengler wrote, "and this beast of prey is the creator of all great things." This tension—between boundless ambition and the harsh realities of existence—lies at the heart of Frank Herbert’s "Dune." Herbert imagines a universe where mankind has transcended the Earth, colonizing distant stars. Yet this future is not the liberal utopia promised by modernity, where technological progress inevitably leads to utopian democracy and specious notions of equality. Instead, it is a world of hierarchy, power, and martial valor, reflecting Spengler’s insights into the deeper truths of Western civilization.

Modernity clings to the belief that technological advancement is intrinsically linked to liberal democracy. This ideology, solidified in the post-World War II era, portrays progress as the product of so-called "democratic freedoms," market economies, and egalitarian principles. The Cold War space race epitomized this myth, framing the technological achievements of the United States as a triumph of democracy over Soviet authoritarianism. Yet this narrative ignores the reality that technological progress is not confined to any one political system. The Soviet Union, for instance, achieved groundbreaking milestones in space exploration, nuclear technology, and military innovation under a rigid, centralized hierarchy.

Herbert’s "Dune" challenges this modernist dogma by presenting a vision of mankind's future that is distinctly anti-liberal. The galactic empire of "Dune" is ruled by aristocrats, fortified by feudal loyalties, and guided by ancient spiritual orders. Technological advancement arises not from democratic consensus or individual freedom but from necessity, hierarchy, and the disciplined efforts of specialized institutions. This portrayal exposes the fragility of the liberal-modern assumption that progress thrives only under egalitarian systems. Herbert’s universe demonstrates that enduring achievements often require structures that prioritize continuity, duty, and tradition over fleeting ideals of equality or comfort.

In this way, "Dune" aligns with Spengler’s critique of modernity. The Faustian impulse to transcend—to reach for the stars, both literally and figuratively—cannot be sustained by the short-term thinking or chaotic whims of mass democracy. Liberal systems, bound by election cycles and market fluctuations, more often than not prioritize immediate gratification over long-term civilizational survival. Herbert’s vision reminds us that the survival of mankind, particularly in the vast and unforgiving expanse of space, demands governance, ideals, and institutions that align power with responsibility and uphold the continuity of tradition.

The Faustian spirit, though it drives mankind toward the infinite, thrives not in the attainment of its ultimate goal but in the struggle itself. It is the quest for greatness—marked by sacrifice, hierarchy, and discipline—that defines the Western soul. Herbert’s "Dune" captures this truth with sobering clarity. It rejects the illusions of liberal modernity, revealing that the path of progress is neither easy nor egalitarian. Instead, it is a relentless, tragic pursuit of transcendence, one that demands the highest from humanity. Far from being a weakness, this struggle is the essence of the West’s greatness, a testament to its enduring will to strive for the stars.

1/ In "Our Southern Nation," Michael Cushman uncovers the South’s forgotten heritage: a society rooted in Europe’s colonial aristocracy, crushed by industrial modernity. It’s not just about history—it’s about reclaiming identity. A must-read for those unafraid of hard truths. 🧵👇 2/ Rediscovering America's Roots

Michael O. Cushman’s "Our Southern Nation: Its Origin and Future" offers an unflinching challenge to the bland, linear narratives of American history celebrated in mainstream discourse. Cushman makes no pretense of neutrality. He writes not as a detached observer but as a crusader for Southern nationalism—a chronicler of the South’s distinct identity and enduring influence on America. His work, unapologetic in tone and expansive in scope, confronts the controversial realities that modern historiography often glosses over or dismisses for reasons of convenience or ideology.

At its core, Cushman’s argument runs counter to America’s homogenized historical narrative. For Cushman, the South’s defeat in the Civil War was not merely the loss of a rebellious region—it marked the tragic downfall of a unique civilization rooted in an ancient and distinctly European colonial tradition. His thesis presents the South as a culture forged over centuries by European influence, standing in stark contrast to the industrialized North. This is not a defense of slavery—though Cushman extensively analyzes the institution’s justifications—but rather an exploration of the broader cultural and political order that defined the South.

In grappling with Cushman’s provocative work, it is necessary to compare it with two landmark studies in the field of American regionalism that are often championed by those on the right: David Hackett Fischer’s "Albion’s Seed" and Colin Woodard’s "American Nations." Fischer and Woodard, like Cushman, dismantle the myth of a unified American identity, emphasizing the regional fractures that stem from European colonization. Both works are invaluable. However, where Fischer and Woodard are measured and analytical, Cushman is bold and polemical. Where they stop at cultural analysis, Cushman ventures further—into political and civilizational arguments—asserting the South’s place within a broader European heritage.

1/ Christopher Priest’s "Fugue for a Darkening Island" depicts a fractured Britain overrun by mass immigration and civil strife. It is a grim lesson in liberal hubris, showing how demographic transformation erases identity and civilization itself. 🧵👇 2/ The Fugue State

A fugue is more than a musical term or psychological anomaly; it signifies fragmentation—of identity, memory, and civilization. Christopher Priest’s "Fugue for a Darkening Island" (1972), a dystopian science fiction novel, uses this metaphor to depict England’s disintegration under the strain of a catastrophic African migration and the demographic upheaval it unleashed. The title is not mere ornament. It embodies the novel’s central theme of collapse—personal, social, and national.

The novel exists in two editions. Priest’s 2011 reissue, heavily revised for modern "sensibilities," undermines the integrity of the original. In capitulating to political correctness, he sacrifices truth for acceptance, retreating into ideological conformity. This raises a fundamental question: can art remain honest in a censorious age, or must it bow to the zeitgeist? Priest chose retreat. We’ll explore this further later, but for now, let’s focus on the story and its central themes, particularly how they relate to our situation today.

1/ The modern West staggers amidst civilizational decline—fractured by hyper-individualism, polarization, and alienation. To chart a way forward, we must look back. Aristotle laid out the principles of human flourishing. What can his timeless vision teach us today? 🧵👇 2/ The West’s Forgotten Foundations

"Classics" once meant the study of Greek and Latin alone. Now it encompasses the foundational works of Western civilization—philosophical and literary—that shaped its trajectory. These enduring works elevate the mind and reveal truths vital to the West’s survival.

T.S. Eliot expanded this idea, describing the classics as an unbroken tradition binding Homer to the present—a "simultaneous order" of meaning bridging epochs. His call to revive this tradition was both a plea and a warning. Even in his day, the West’s grip on its heritage was slipping, a loss we now face in full measure.

Today, the classics barely whisper, their wisdom buried beneath the rubble of modernity. Shallow distractions and ideological noise drown out their timeless truths. If we let these ancestral voices fade, we inherit a barren cultural wasteland, severed from millennia of insight we cannot hope to recreate.

The West’s intellectual collapse is clearest in its rejection of the classics. Once pillars of true education, the works of Aristotle and Plato are now dismissed by self-styled progressives. This arrogance, typical of our age, blinds us to the eternal principles that anchor human existence. Without ancestral guidance, we drift aimlessly, like architects defying gravity.

We live with the wreckage of detachment. Politics are dysfunctional, communities fractured, and culture consumed by pathological individualism. Families and traditions—pillars of continuity—are replaced by vapid consumerism and fleeting pleasures. Rootless men drift, untethered from their inheritance.

In this chaos, the classics offer lifelines, none more so than Aristotle's "Politics." Unlike Plato’s lofty "Republic," dreaming of utopias, Aristotle speaks to reality—pragmatic, grounded, and rooted in human nature. He envisioned a society built on virtue, responsibility, and balance, warning against multicultural dissolution, the erosion of citizenship, and the drift toward tyranny.

Aristotle’s message cuts through modern noise, exposing liberalism’s vacuity and offering a path to coherence. To abandon him is to sever ourselves from wisdom and invite the collapse of the civilization we claim to defend.

1/ Jean Raspail's "The Camp of the Saints" is no ordinary novel—it’s prophecy. Written in 1973, it foretells a West paralyzed by guilt and overrun by mass migration. Once banned, now buried, its warnings ring louder with every headline. Let's discuss 🧵👇 2/ Jean Raspail’s "The Camp of the Saints" is more than a novel; it’s a work of prophetic truth. Like all really great novels, it captures timeless realities—in this case, a harrowing indictment of the moral and cultural rot infecting the West. Its dystopian narrative critiques unchecked immigration, self-destructive altruism, and the paralysis of Western civilization.

The story begins with a famine in India. In desperation, a million refugees, led by a grotesque figure known as the "turd eater," commandeer a fleet of decaying ships and set sail for Europe. They bring with them not only hunger and disease but also an existential threat to the cultural and ethnic identity of the West.

Europe’s elites—politicians, church leaders, and the media—respond with blind enthusiasm. Cloaked in the insidious language of "human rights" and "universal brotherhood," they champion the invaders, dismissing any opposition as bigotry or selfishness. Centuries of liberal humanism, manipulated postmodern Christianity, and recent decades of Marxist ideology have left the West ideologically disarmed, incapable of defending itself against its enemies.

As the fleet nears Europe, the contradictions of this moral collapse become painfully clear. Leaders hesitate to act, fearing accusations of cruelty or racism. Sound familiar? It should because it's what’s happening today.

The refugees are not stopped at sea, nor are they quarantined upon arrival. Instead, the elites gamble the future of their nations on the untenable belief that such an influx can be absorbed without catastrophic consequences.

The consequences are devastating. France is the first to fall, its government overthrown by a radical leftist junta that turns the military against native resistance. Chaos reigns as rape, robbery, and destruction are sanctioned. Millions of Europeans flee their homes, while others cling to the hope that someone else will act to preserve their civilization.

The invaders, meanwhile, consolidate their power. Any pretense of diversity within their ranks is eliminated as they focus their collective strength on dismantling the remnants of Western society. The spectacle is watched with excitement by non-Europeans around the world, emboldened by the collapse of a once-dominant civilization.

Other European nations follow in France’s footsteps, collapsing under the weight of mass migration and elite betrayal. Switzerland, the last holdout, eventually succumbs to international pressure, marking the complete obliteration of the West.

Raspail’s narrative forces readers to confront the uncomfortable truths of Western decline. It is not merely an external threat but an internal sickness—a combination of cowardice, guilt, and ideological manipulation. The novel’s grim portrayal of the future is not just a warning but a call to recognize and confront the forces that seek to dismantle Western civilization and destroy its people.

1/ Julius Evola was many things, but above all, he was a revolutionary in the truest sense—a radical traditionalist who sought not merely the end of the current order but the rebirth of a new one. Let’s discuss. 🧵👇 2/ Tradition: The Pillar of Evola’s Philosophy

This essay serves as an introductory primer on Julius Evola, focusing on key ideas from "Revolt Against the Modern World," "Men Among the Ruins," and "Ride the Tiger." It does not aim to exhaustively cover his body of work. I will address his final work, autobiography, and what he considered his most important work, "The Path of Cinnabar," in a separate thread.

At the core of Evola’s philosophy lies Tradition—a metaphysical foundation that informs his critique of modernity and connects humanity to the divine. Far from being mere nostalgia for past customs or rituals, Evola’s Tradition transcends time and space. It represents immutable principles that structure the cosmos and reveal humanity's higher purpose.

While Evola’s conception owes much to René Guénon’s perennialist philosophy, it bears his unique interpretation. For Evola, Tradition is not a human construct but a revelation of divine truth—a sacred order woven into the fabric of existence. It binds the sacred and the profane, anchoring the temporal world in eternal principles.

Tradition manifests through a sacred hierarchy that reflects the divine order of the cosmos. Each individual, institution, and role occupies a rightful place, determined by spiritual and intellectual virtues rather than material concerns. Kings embody celestial authority, ruling not for ambition but as stewards of divine will. Warriors champion cosmic justice, defending the sacred order. Priests mediate between the earthly and transcendent, guiding humanity toward higher truths. This hierarchy ensures harmony, aligning human society with the eternal.

Evola contrasts this vision with modern egalitarianism, which he saw as denying natural distinctions and undermining sacred order. In a traditional society, leadership arises naturally from those endowed with spiritual insight, martial valor, and intellectual clarity—qualities aligned with cosmic principles. Power serves a higher purpose, flowing from the duty to uphold eternal truths.

Crucially, Evola viewed Tradition as a living force, enduring beyond the rise and fall of civilizations. While its forms may vary across cultures and epochs, its essence remains constant. From the Indo-European legacy to the Roman imperium and the medieval warrior-aristocracies, Tradition emerges as the axis uniting humanity with the divine.

For Evola, Tradition is the sacred law of existence, the axis mundi around which life must revolve to align with its higher purpose. To live by Tradition is to transcend the individual and temporal, participating in the cosmic order that elevates humanity toward the eternal. Far from being a relic of the past, Tradition remains a living reality, calling the discerning few to restore its rightful place as the guiding principle of life.

1/ Oswald Spengler’s "The Decline of the West" revives the ancient, cyclical view of history in a revolutionary way. Cultures and Civilizations, like living organisms, are born, thrive, and decline. His greatest contribution is shattering the modern myth of progress. 🧵👇 2/ An Organic Vision of History

Oswald Spengler’s “The Decline of the West” shattered the modern understanding of history by rejecting the prevailing myth of linear progress. For Spengler, history does not ascend along a straight, ever-improving path but unfolds cyclically, mirroring the life of an organism: birth, growth, maturity, decline, and inevitable death.

In Spengler’s framework, Civilizations and Cultures are not abstract or interchangeable constructs but discrete living forms—each a unique organism with its own internal logic, distinct expressions, and singular destiny. “Each Culture,” Spengler declared, “has its own new possibilities of self-expression which arise, ripen, decay, and never return.” Unlike the modern conceit of a continuous march toward universal enlightenment, history, as Spengler saw it, is a succession of self-contained cycles, each adhering to its own natural trajectory.

Spengler’s vision directly confronts the Western liberal conception of history as a triumphant, unbroken march of progress—from the Stone Age to the present. This conceit reached its zenith in Francis Fukuyama’s naïve proclamation of the “end of history,” which celebrated liberal modernity as humanity's final political and cultural form. Yet Spengler argues that such thinking is not only delusional but deeply alien to the worldview of most ancient and pre-modern civilizations.

Thinkers like Thucydides, Polybius, and Giovanni Battista Vico understood history not as a linear progression but as an ebb and flow governed by forces far beyond human control. Thucydides, in his account of the Peloponnesian War, illustrated the timeless patterns of power, hubris, and decline. Polybius introduced the concept of anacyclosis, the cyclical transformation of political systems from monarchy to tyranny, aristocracy to oligarchy, and democracy to mob rule. Giambattista Vico, writing during the Enlightenment, reinforced this cyclical view in “The New Science,” arguing that societies advance and regress through recurring stages of growth, maturity, and decay. These thinkers shared a vision of history deeply rooted in the eternal cycles of nature, a perspective that Western modernity has largely discarded.

The West’s belief in its own permanence and superiority, according to Spengler, represents an arrogant denial of life’s fundamental laws. Civilizations rise and fall, just as seasons change and as life inevitably gives way to death. The West, blinded by its faith in rationalism and progress, has refused to acknowledge its own organic limits—a denial that makes its decline all the more certain.

One may disagree with Spengler’s conclusions, but one cannot dismiss him. His critique remains a searing challenge to those who cling to the comforting but hollow illusion of perpetual advancement. The genius of Spengler’s framework lies in its immediacy: it reveals itself in the world around us. Anyone who observes the state of the modern world with Spenglerian clarity can see the truth of his insights.

Civilizations, like the living forms he describes, build monuments, empires, and systems of thought, but they are ultimately bound by the same organic rhythms that govern all life. What rises must fall. What blooms must wither. Spengler’s vision is a stark reminder that no Culture—least of all our own—is exempt from the cycles of history. The natural laws that birthed our greatness will just as surely preside over our decline.

1/ Reading Carl Schmitt is crucial for understanding modern politics. The Left implicitly grasps his insights on power, using them to dominate institutions like academia and media. They don’t want you to read him—which is exactly why you must. 🧵👇 2/ Carl Schmitt, the German jurist and political theorist, stands as one of the most incisive and controversial intellectuals of the 20th century. Renowned for works like The Concept of the Political and Political Theology, Schmitt's critiques of liberalism and his myriad insights into sovereignty, the state, democracy, and modernity itself remain as unsettling as they are illuminating. His ideas expose the ideological pretensions of modern governance, challenging the liberal orthodoxy that dominates contemporary political discourse.

Central to Schmitt’s thought is his most famous and far-reaching concept: the friend-enemy distinction. This principle forms the bedrock of his entire political philosophy, asserting that the essence of all politics lies in a collective’s ability to define itself through the clear identification of friends—those who share its identity, culture, and values—and enemies—those who threaten its existence or sovereignty. This distinction is not a metaphor or an abstract philosophical point; it is existential and thus very real. The enemy represents a genuine, concrete threat that demands recognition and, if necessary, confrontation. Politics, Schmitt argues, begins where this distinction is made.

Liberalism, with its fixation on universal peace, economic exchange, and moral relativism, recoils from the friend-enemy distinction, preferring instead to obscure it under the guise of "tolerance" and "progress." Yet in doing so, it denies the reality of conflict that underpins human existence and the state itself. Schmitt saw this rejection not as noble but as dangerous, for it renders liberalism incapable of grappling with power and sovereignty.

Ironically, while liberalism as an ideology refuses to acknowledge the realities of the friend-enemy distinction, the modern Left in the West has either knowingly absorbed Schmitt’s principles or, more likely, grasped them intuitively. Their dominance over institutions like academia, media, and culture stems from an implicit understanding of the political as an arena of conflict where defining and targeting the "enemy" is essential.

In this sense, the Left wields power far more effectively than the so-called "Right," weaponizing Schmittian insights to dismantle opposition while cloaking their maneuvers in the language of morality and progress. This tension between liberal idealism and the Left's pragmatic grasp of power provides the perfect entry point into Schmitt’s critique of liberalism’s faulty anthropology and its incompatibility with democracy.

1/ The Classics, the bedrock of Western civilization, are under siege. Modern academia weaponizes them for deconstruction, stripping them of their European soul. This is not scholarship—it’s an attack on our heritage, a campaign to sever the West from its ancestral roots. 🧵 2/ The study of the Classical canon is under siege, subjected to a deliberate campaign to subvert the foundations of Western civilization, European identity, and our ancestral patrimony. What was once a rigorous academic discipline dedicated to preserving and interpreting the enduring wisdom of ancient Greece and Rome—the cornerstone of European identity—has been co-opted to undermine the very heritage it once safeguarded. This is no academic evolution but an ideological assault aimed at erasing Western civilization and its people.

Modern academia no longer approaches the Classics as treasures of timeless wisdom. Instead, they are reframed as relics of a "problematic" past, accused of perpetuating oppression and inequality. This distortion denies their role as milestones of human achievement and reduces them to tools for ideological critique. By recasting the foundations of Western civilization as inherently oppressive, these narratives declare the modern world illegitimate—a world that, they argue, must be destroyed.

Donna Zuckerberg epitomizes this corruption. To her, ancient texts are not treasures of wisdom but weapons for advancing grievance politics, reducing the towering achievements of our ancestors to props in a tiresome tale of "White men versus the world."

This is no scholarship—it is a calculated cultural assault. The intellectual bedrock of the West is being hijacked, stripped of its wisdom, and weaponized against itself. The aim is clear: to delegitimize our heritage and replace it with narratives engineered to corrode its meaning and obliterate its power.

The evidence is undeniable—look no further than the flood of historical revisionism poisoning popular culture and rewriting the story of who we are.

1/ Thanksgiving is more than a day of feasting—it’s the story of a people who defied the odds, conquered the wilderness, and forged a new world. A testament to grit, faith, and the pursuit of greatness, it embodies the American spirit: born of struggle, shaped by triumph. 🧵👇 2/ Thanksgiving: A Celebration of Harvest, History, and Identity

Thanksgiving Day, at its core, is America’s reimagining of the ancient harvest festival—a tradition as old as agriculture itself. These rites, rooted in the Neolithic shift to settled farming, symbolized humanity’s triumph over nature—the taming of the earth to yield sustenance and life. Far from being mere acknowledgments of abundance, they were sacred affirmations of survival and continuity, forged in the crucible of necessity. Across the ancient European world, harvest festivals honored the deities and spirits believed to govern fertility and prosperity, binding communities to soil and sky in a covenant of toil and gratitude.

Among the Greeks, Demeter, the goddess of grain, was venerated in ceremonies that reflected the cyclical rhythm of life and death embedded in the seasons. The Celts marked their harvest with bonfires and feasts, acknowledging the land’s gifts before winter’s onset. In Persia, Zoroastrians celebrated Mehrgân, a festival of thanksgiving linking cosmic order with earthly sustenance. Yet it was in Europe—where Indo-European peoples refined agrarian systems and elevated the plow to a cornerstone of civilization—that these traditions found their most profound expression. Here, the harvest festival became a timeless emblem of the symbiosis between human labor and the fertility of the land.

In the rural communities of pre-industrial Europe, harvest festivals were more than celebrations; they were acts of collective gratitude, marking survival through the unpredictable trials of weather, war, and disease. These gatherings solidified social bonds and reinforced a shared identity, rooted in the enduring cycles of agrarian life. Songs, dances, and rituals mirrored the vitality of a people whose existence was still shaped by the raw forces of nature.

1/ Everyone has seen this now infamous—yet increasingly routine—tweet seething with ethnically charged animus and simmering resentment. But what are the broader implications for London—and the entire West? 🧵 👇 2/ Once the living, beating heart of Great Britain—the largest empire in history, spanning entire continents—London has been transformed into a rootless, cosmopolitan slum: a hollowed-out asset for foreign elites. Since the so-called Empire Windrush era, which began in 1948 when former colonial subjects from the Caribbean islands were encouraged and aided in their migration to the storied English Isles to fill perceived labor shortages (translation: elites seeking cheap labor), Great Britain and its major cities have undergone seismic demographic and cultural upheavals.

The unique character of English life—defined by centuries of tradition, cohesion, and a distinct cultural ethos—has been eroded, replaced by a deracinated, nihilistic simulacrum of what constitutes culture.

The city of Shakespeare, Dickens, Churchill, and Newton is now a glib, globalized financial hub: stripped of cultural depth, historical essence, and increasingly of the native Britons who built it. Sound familiar? Eerily familiar, in fact. That’s because it is.

This globalist social engineering has been underway for decades across the Western world. Globalism, not merely the natural interconnectedness fostered by technological progress but a distinct post-Enlightenment utopian ideology, has long wielded multiculturalism as its battering ram to subvert and transform Western nations.