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.

1/ Pat Buchanan’s "State of Emergency" issues a dire warning: America’s borders are vanishing, its identity fracturing, and its leaders abandoning sovereignty for profit and ideology. With the republic in freefall, the question looms—can it be saved, or is the hour too late? 🧵👇 2/ The Nation in Crisis

In "State of Emergency," Patrick Buchanan delivers a searing critique of America’s unraveling, driven by decades of demographic upheaval, unchecked immigration, and political cowardice. The very idea of the United States as a sovereign nation is being erased alongside its borders, he warns, as our elected leaders abdicate their responsibility to protect the republic.

For Buchanan, no nation can endure without clear borders, a common language, and a cohesive ethnocultural identity. Yet, these pillars are crumbling. Since the passage of the 1965 Hart-Celler Act, which radically transformed the demographic makeup of the nation, America has seen an unprecedented influx of immigrants, primarily from non-Western nations. While previous generations of immigrants assimilated into a shared American identity, today’s waves arrive under policies that prioritize diversity over unity. The result, Buchanan argues, is cultural fragmentation rather than integration.

This demographic shift is not accidental but a deliberate consequence of elite policy. Politicians, corporations, and ideologues have prioritized cheap labor and multiculturalism over preserving the integrity of the American nation-state. Sanctuary cities, porous border policies, and the refusal to enforce immigration laws have accelerated this decline. By ignoring the cultural and economic consequences, leaders have left the working and middle classes—those who rely most on national cohesion—to shoulder the burden of this transformation.

Buchanan warns that the erosion of a shared identity and the collapse of enforcement at the border are leading to political and social chaos. Without drastic action, these trends threaten to dissolve the republic itself. A nation that abandons its sovereignty, he argues, cannot long endure as a unified people. Instead, it becomes a hollow shell, vulnerable to internal division and external exploitation.

1/ For 15 years, Rhodesia's embattled military defied sanctions, communist guerrillas, and global scorn—delivering a masterclass in counterinsurgency

Ferocious, innovative, and relentless, let’s dive into the tactics and units that made them unstoppable 🧵👇 The Rhodesian Military: Forged in Fire

The Rhodesian Security Forces (RSF) were born of necessity—and necessity, after all, is the mother of invention. Strangled by sanctions and surrounded by hostile neighbors, Rhodesia’s response was nothing short of remarkable. Scarcity drove innovation, and necessity molded an army capable of punching far above its weight. Every soldier was trained to perform multiple roles, and every asset was pushed to its limit.

The RSF was composed of three primary branches, each tailored to address the unique demands of the conflict:

The Regular Army, which included the Rhodesian Light Infantry (RLI), an elite commando force known as "The Saints," whose small-unit tactics and discipline made them legendary. Alongside them were the Rhodesian African Rifles (RAR), a predominantly African unit led by white officers, known for its cohesion and effectiveness in the bush.

The Special Forces, encompassing the Selous Scouts—masters of deception and psychological warfare who operated undercover to infiltrate and dismantle insurgent networks—and the Rhodesian Special Air Service (SAS), experts in cross-border operations, raids, and sabotage.

The British South Africa Police (BSAP), a hybrid police-military force that held the line in rural areas, where insurgent activity was at its peak. Their dual mandate meant they conducted both law enforcement and counterinsurgency operations.

We will discuss these units in more detail below in the posts below.

Sanctions forced the RSF to innovate. Modern weapon systems were inaccessible, so they refurbished outdated rifles, modified aircraft like the Dakota C-47 for troop drops and bombing runs, and even developed improvised ordnance, such as “bouncing bombs” designed to detonate in guerrilla camps hidden in dense bush. Soldiers were expected to multitask: a rifleman might also function as a medic, a radio operator, or even a demolitions expert.

Despite these constraints, the RSF developed revolutionary tactics that set them apart from their enemies.

The most famous of these was Fireforce, a helicopter-borne rapid-reaction strategy that transformed counterinsurgency warfare. The Rhodesians were among the first to use helicopters for troop deployment and close air support. Under Fireforce, Alouette III helicopters, supported by Dakota aircraft for paratroop drops, could respond to enemy sightings within minutes. The helicopters would land “stop groups” to block escape routes, while “sweep groups” closed in on the enemy. This coordination allowed small, highly mobile teams to neutralize much larger insurgent forces with minimal casualties.

Fireforce alone accounted for thousands of insurgent casualties and redefined asymmetric warfare. However, tactical brilliance wasn’t enough to counter Rhodesia’s geopolitical realities. The communist insurgents, buoyed by foreign support and a steady influx of new recruits, could absorb losses that Rhodesia simply couldn’t.

1/ Patrick Buchanan’s "A Republic, Not an Empire" is a bold indictment of U.S. imperial overreach. Endless wars drain wealth, fracture the nation, and hasten collapse. America must choose: restore the Founders’ republic or share the fate of fallen empires—decline and ruin. 🧵 2/ America: A Nation Fulfilled, Not an Empire in Waiting

All empires eventually exhaust themselves, and America is no exception. In "A Republic, Not an Empire," Buchanan begins with a fundamental truth: America was never meant to be an empire. From its founding, the republic prioritized self-governance and sovereignty. Its territorial expansion through conquest and negotiation—culminating in the mid-19th century with the realization of Manifest Destiny—secured its borders and solidified its national identity. Unlike the ceaseless imperial ambitions of the Old World powers, America's strength lay in its ability to consolidate, unify, and flourish as a stable republic. This design for stability—not conquest—is central to Buchanan’s argument.

Yet, in the post-Cold War era, America has veered dangerously off course. Buchanan warns of a drift toward imperial ambition—not in pursuit of territory, but of ideological dominance. Interventionist elites, intoxicated by the fantasy of global hegemony, have recast the United States as a “knight errant” crusading for abstract ideals like “human rights,” “freedom,” and “democracy.” These lofty banners, Buchanan argues, are rhetorical weapons wielded to justify wars that bring no tangible benefit to ordinary Americans.

The Korean and Vietnam wars serve as cautionary tales. Neither conflict defended America’s sovereignty or vital interests. Instead, they drained resources, shattered national cohesion, and left a generation disillusioned. Buchanan underscores their corrosive effects: a fractured ethnocultural identity, eroded trust in government, and the gradual decay of the confidence that once fueled America’s rise.

Buchanan invokes George Washington’s "Farewell Address" as a prescient warning. Washington, observing the endless rivalries of European powers, urged the fledgling republic to shun foreign entanglements. This wisdom, rooted in self-restraint and independence, is what Buchanan calls America to rediscover.

Modern leaders, however, have abandoned this founding principle. Instead of rebuilding a collapsing infrastructure, revitalizing industry, or safeguarding cultural unity, they squander wealth and energy abroad. America’s roads crumble, factories close, and cities decay as its leaders chase imperial illusions. Buchanan draws a grim parallel: like Napoleonic France and overstretched Imperial Britain, America risks succumbing to the same fatal hubris—exhaustion, decline, and collapse.

Buchanan’s proposed solution is timeless and urgent. “The nation that abandons empire finds itself again,” he writes, arguing that America must reclaim the wisdom of its founders: sovereignty, restraint, and an unwavering focus on the republic’s welfare. Today, this call to action is more relevant than ever. Decades of interventionist folly have left America fractured and weakened. By embracing a foreign policy rooted in realism and self-preservation, the republic can chart a path back to strength, stability, and unity—avoiding the fate of history’s fallen empires.

1/ Like Pat Buchanan in America, Enoch Powell was the greatest Prime Minister Britain never had. His "Rivers of Blood" speech wasn’t hysteria but a prophetic warning. He foresaw the chaos of mass immigration and dared to speak the truth. Let’s explore why he was right. 🧵 2/ The Duty of Statesmanship

Enoch Powell’s shadow looms large over British history because he dared to speak uncomfortable truths. In 1968, in a modest Birmingham hotel, he delivered a speech that would define his legacy. Misquoted as “Rivers of Blood”—a phrase he never uttered—the address was a warning, not an incitement.

At the time, there were no protests, no cries to silence him. That came later, as his predictions began to manifest. For the Left, Powell became as radioactive as Mosley or Irving. For others, he remains a prophet whose words echo louder with each passing year.

Powell’s view of statesmanship was grounded in realism, not sentimentality. “The supreme function of statesmanship is to provide against preventable evils.” For him, mass immigration wasn’t moral progress—it was a reckless gamble with Britain’s future.

His opposition was pragmatic: a nation’s stability depends on shared values, language, and traditions, upheld by a cohesive ethnocultural core, by one united people. Introducing vast, unassimilated alien populations risks shattering that fragile unity. Powell understood this; his critics dismissed it.

“Numbers are of the essence,” he warned. It wasn’t immigration per se but its unprecedented scale that alarmed him. Mass immigration isn’t a tap to turn off when tensions rise; it transforms the social fabric irrevocably. Britain was sleepwalking into demographic fragmentation.

For Powell, cowardice masked as tolerance was the gravest sin of leadership. A true statesman doesn’t pander or appease—he foresees and acts. Powell’s words were not for 1968 but for the future he feared: a Britain that would no longer recognize itself.

1/ Up until recently, might made right. The right of conquest—ownership through force of arms and military victory—was the ultimate arbiter of who owned what land, shaping borders and civilizations. Yet only one civilization has renounced it, much to its detriment: the West. 🧵 2/ Since time immemorial, the victor in combat has claimed the spoils—land, resources, and sovereignty. Known to the Greeks as "spear-won victory" (doriktetos), this ancient principle evolved into what we call the right of conquest. The Chinese termed it "mandate by force" (qiang quan), echoing their pragmatic view of power and legitimacy. This principle, indifferent to the justice of the war or the morality of domination, formed the backbone of international relations for millennia.

The Romans famously invoked the right of conquest to justify their dominion. After annihilating Carthage in the Third Punic War (149–146 BC), they annexed its lands and created the province of Africa. Caesar's triumphs in Gaul (58–50 BC) further demonstrated this doctrine, as military success transformed foreign territories into Roman provinces.

Non-Western powers embraced the same ethos. The Umayyad Caliphate's invasion of Iberia in 711 AD, spearheaded by Tariq ibn Ziyad, overthrew the Visigothic Kingdom. Through sheer military might, they established al-Andalus, where Islamic rule persisted for centuries, rooted in the spoils of conquest.

The point is clear: until the aftermath of the Second World War, military victory was universally recognized as the ultimate arbiter of territorial ownership. Conquered peoples understood this reality—if they sought to regain independence, they had to do so through the only path history respected: the hard way, through force of arms.

1/ History is no stranger to politics—it has shaped fact and truth for centuries. But now, it’s a weapon of destruction, leaving the truth bloodied and broken. Nowhere is this assault more absurd than in Afrocentrism and its wildest lie: the myth of an African Cleopatra.🧵 2/ Before we dive into Cleopatra, let’s talk history—not history itself, but how we write it. Sounds dull? Maybe, but it matters. Historiography is the craft of weaving scattered facts into a narrative, revealing as much about the authors as about the past, where facts are objective, verifiable pieces of information, and truth is the broader, often interpretive understanding of those facts. It shapes not just what we know but how we see the world.

In Western civilization—the birthplace of rational inquiry, historical method, and objective truth—history has long been a cornerstone of stability and identity. For millennia, what Western societies upheld as right and true served as a guiding force, preserving their civilization through continuity and order. But today, history is a weapon, repurposed to dismantle the very civilization it once preserved.

The battleground is historiography, and the war is ideological. Revisionist narratives like Afrocentrism now dominate, rewriting history to serve modern anti-Western political agendas. Academia, once the guardian of truth, has surrendered to political dogma, discarding objectivity in favor of ideology. The balance between fact and values has been obliterated, leaving ideology in its place. Among its boldest fabrications? The myth of an African Cleopatra—a brazen lie designed to rewrite the past. Now that that's out of the way, let’s set the record straight.

1/ History is a battlefield, and the West is under siege. Fairytales like the myth of "the noble savage" and the "stolen land" narrative are historically false, weaponized for the purposes of politics and control. Let’s cut through the lies and uncover the reality. 🧵
2/ The Myth of the Noble Savage: A Critique of Romanticized History and Politicized Narratives

The Western intellectual tradition has long grappled with the concept of the "noble savage," a trope symbolizing the supposed purity and moral superiority of pre-civilized peoples living in harmony with nature. This idea, most famously articulated by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, suggests that humanity, uncorrupted by the inequalities of civilization, thrives in a state of idyllic simplicity. However, both historical evidence and anthropological studies decisively refute this idealized vision.

Napoleon Chagnon’s groundbreaking work on the Yanomamö tribe of the Amazon provides a sobering counterpoint. Far from being paragons of peace, the Yanomamö lived in what Chagnon described as a "state of chronic warfare." Violence permeated their social structures, manifesting in inter-village raids and brutal chest-pounding duels. Chagnon’s research revealed that aggression was not an anomaly but a driver of evolutionary success, with violent men often achieving higher reproductive success through securing more wives and offspring. His findings, though controversial, aligned with fields like sociobiology, which argue that human behaviors—including violence—are deeply intertwined with natural selection. Violence, far from being an external imposition, is endemic to the human condition, shaped by both biological imperatives and cultural contexts.

Despite academic backlash, Chagnon’s work underscores the fragility of the noble savage myth. Romanticized depictions of indigenous peoples often omit the complex, and sometimes harsh, realities of their societies. Rousseau’s vision of innate goodness was a philosophical ideal, an abstraction, and not an anthropological truth.

1/ Pat Buchanan’s "Death of the West" is more than a book; it’s a prophetic call to action. He exposes the forces tearing apart our civilization—from cultural and moral decay to demographic decline—threatening to erase the West. For those who value our future, let us discuss!🧵 2/ First and foremost, Buchanan’s prescience is rare in a political world plagued by short-sightedness and ideological blindness.

Like past visionaries, he was ostracized for seeing what others couldn’t or wouldn’t. Buchanan dared to confront the forces that would spell America and the West's undoing, forces visible even then to those willing to see.

The media and establishment savaged him, dismissing his warnings as extreme, yet his insights stand vindicated today. Buchanan’s diagnosis is direct and unflinching: the West is dying, and its wounds are self-inflicted, inflicted by an elite establishment mired in arrogance and self-interest.

1/ Trump’s 2024 win was a landslide—312 electoral votes, the popular vote, and Congress back under GOP control. Yet the RINOs are already scheming to undermine him from within. Why would the party betray its own leader at this critical moment? Here’s what’s really going on.🧵 2/ Within hours of the election results, Mitch McConnell made his move to curb Trump’s influence, as Tucker Carlson (@TuckerCarlson) pointed out. McConnell’s swift scheduling of a closed-door Senate leadership vote wasn’t routine—this was a calculated maneuver, an engineered coup. By sidelining Trump’s influence from the outset, the GOP establishment made clear they weren’t interested in uniting behind him or his America First agenda. This secretive ballot allows senators to subvert Trump’s direction without public scrutiny, a protection for the old guard who fear Trump’s base and his agenda for government reform. For McConnell and his allies, this isn’t just politics; it’s an internal campaign to stop Trump’s hand in reshaping the party and restoring a traditional conservative vision that prioritizes American interests over foreign entanglements and corporate lobbying.

1/ "Breaking the Deep State." It’s time to burn it all down. Let's examine President Trump's plan to dismantle it.🧵 2/ Before we begin, let’s define the "deep state"—admittedly a "boomer-tier" term, but one that captures a harsh reality. The deep state refers to an entrenched network of unelected officials, career bureaucrats, and intelligence operatives who act as a shadow government, wielding power beyond the reach of elected authority. It has grown since the early 20th century, solidifying after World War II with the creation of institutions like the CIA and NSA under the dubious banner of national security.

Over decades, these agencies have amassed unchecked influence, acting autonomously and often outside democratic control. Presidents may come and go, but these agencies remain, steering policy and undermining elected leaders. This permanent power center undercuts the very spirit of America.

The bottom line: it has to go, and soon.

1/ "For Aristotle, democracy is possible only within homogeneous ethnic groups, while despots reign over fragmented societies." This captures the spirit of Aristotle’s "Politics," written 2,300 years ago—wisdom America and the West must revisit in order to save our civilization!🧵 2/ The quote above comes from Guillaume Faye’s "Why We Fight," a powerful articulation often misattributed to Aristotle himself. Yet it captures the essence of Aristotle’s Politics ("Πολιτικά"), where he explores how democracy relies on a cohesive citizenry. For Aristotle, a stable society begins with a unified "ethnos" (ἔθνος)—a people whose distinct values and culture arise from a shared historical and evolutionary experience, shaped over generations. A culture, and thereby a nation, springs directly from its people and their vision for the future. Faye channels this conviction: "A multi-ethnic society is thus necessarily anti-democratic and chaotic, for it lacks philia, this profound, flesh-and-blood fraternity of citizens. Tyrants and despots divide and rule; they want the City divided by ethnic rivalries. The indispensable condition for ensuring a people's sovereignty accordingly resides in its unity. Ethnic chaos prevents all philia from developing."

Aristotle further elaborates on this concept in Politics, categorizing six types of government based on whether rulers pursue the common good or self-interest. When a single man governs justly, he embodies kingship ("basileia," βασιλεία), the noblest form of one-man rule; if he rules selfishly, he devolves into a tyrant ("tyrannos," τύραννος). Similarly, aristocracy ("aristokratia," ἀριστοκρατία) serves all under virtuous rulers but degenerates into oligarchy ("oligarchia," ὀλιγαρχία) when it serves the interests of the wealthy alone.

When the many rule for the common good, Aristotle calls this a polity ("politeia," πολιτεία), a mixed constitution and the most stable and desirable form of government. A polity balances democratic and oligarchic principles, drawing strength from a robust middle class that upholds justice ("dikaiosyne," δικαιοσύνη) and social harmony. In contrast, democracy ("demokratia," δημοκρατία) arises when the majority rules in its own interest, redistributing wealth at the expense of cohesion and encouraging factionalism.

Both democracy and oligarchy serve single classes, eroding the welfare of the "polis" ("πόλις," city-state). Democracy becomes a vehicle for the poor to exploit the wealthy, undermining justice and civic unity ("philia," φιλία), while oligarchy entrenches the power of the wealthy, deepening social divisions. Though livable, both forms compromise "areté" ("ἀρετή," virtue) and the common good. Their leaders often lack "phronesis" ("φρόνησις," practical wisdom), falling prey to factionalism and instability.

Thus, Aristotle envisions the polity as the highest attainable form—a government grounded in moderation ("metrios," μέτριος) and civic friendship ("philia," φιλία), harmonizing the virtues of both the many and the few to forge a just, enduring society. This unity relies on an ethnoculturally cohesive citizenry; as Faye argues, in a multi-ethnic society, philia disintegrates, allowing despots to exploit division. For Aristotle, as echoed by Faye, the polity demands a unified, ethnoculturally cohesive citizenry.

1/ The "Metaphysics" of Martin Heidegger:

Martin Heidegger argued that Western metaphysics inevitably leads to nihilism. By reducing "Being" to objective frameworks, metaphysics strips existence of intrinsic meaning, pushing thought into a crisis. Let's discuss! 🧵 2/ Nihilism and Metaphysics as Allies, Not Opposites:

Nihilism, the collapse of values and shared meaning, is usually seen as metaphysics’ opposite. But Heidegger contends that metaphysics itself, through objectification, actually breeds nihilism.

1/ Written in 98 AD, Tacitus' "Germania" offers a rare glimpse into the lives of early Germanic tribes. Its journey through the centuries, marked by controversies and rediscoveries, tells a story as compelling as its content. Let’s explore! 2/ Authored by the Roman historian and aristocrat Cornelius Tacitus (c. 55–c. 117 AD), only a fragment of his extensive writings has defied time’s erosion. The surviving works divide into major compositions—"Histories and Annals," which chronicle the upheavals of Rome from 14 to 96 AD—and the minor works: "The Dialogue on Orators," "Agricola," and "Germania." Tacitus held influential offices, serving as quaestor in 79, praetor in 88, consul in 97, and later as governor of Asia (modern-day western Turkey) from 112 to 113. His position within Rome’s elite offered him invaluable insights into the Empire’s political machinery and its provinces.

Yet "Germania" holds a distinct place among his works. Not a typical book, it’s a terse but powerful treatise on the Germanic tribes. In contrast, Tacitus’ "Agricola"—a work of similar length—focuses on Roman Britain, specifically the conquests of his father-in-law, the general Agricola, who governed Britannia from 77 to 85 AD.

Since its rediscovery in the Renaissance, "Germania" has profoundly influenced Western understanding of early Germanic tribes. This text remains the most comprehensive ancient account on the customs, governance, and geography of the Germanic world, marking northern Europe’s entry into recorded history roughly five centuries after Homer and Herodotus documented the Greeks. It stands as a bridge between archaeology, oral tradition, and historical record, bringing to life a previously shadowed region.

Tacitus admires the Germanic tribes’ simplicity, valor, loyalty, and austere honor, a stark contrast to Rome’s indulgent imperial society, which he saw as a degraded form of the once-virile Republic. His perspective endures—some scholars note that in Tacitus’ works, only Agricola and the Germans are portrayed as possessing true virtue.

Tacitus’ understanding was shaped by various sources. By his era, knowledge of northern Europe had grown through firsthand accounts of military commanders, whose memoirs circulated in Rome, akin to Caesar’s Commentaries. Diplomacy also brought Germanic leaders to the capital and sent Roman envoys to Germanic courts. Meanwhile, Roman merchants, who ventured deep into Germanic lands, likely contributed their own perspectives, often as insightful as those of the soldiers and officials.

1/ "What is true, just, and beautiful is not determined by popular vote. The masses everywhere are ignorant, short-sighted, motivated by envy, and easy to fool." With that said, let's discuss Hans-Hermann Hoppe's excellent work "Democracy: The God That Failed." 🧵 2/ Hans-Hermann Hoppe’s "Democracy: The God That Failed: The Economics and Politics of Monarchy, Democracy, and Natural Order remains essential reading for anyone seeking to understand the forces of decay plaguing Western civilization. Although I am not a libertarian, Hoppe’s incisive critique of democracy captures the ideological and structural flaws undermining our society.

In Hoppe’s view, the state is a malign institution regardless of its form. Yet, monarchy—a system where authority is centralized and constrained within a single family or lineage—is comparatively less corrupt than democracy. His work presents a sweeping history of governance, moving from the organic hierarchies of aristocracy to the restrained power of monarchy, and ultimately to the anarchic exploitation of modern liberal democracy—a system that has swelled into the monstrous leviathan state we face today.

"Democracy: The God That Failed" makes two core arguments: first, that government is inherently harmful, parasitic, and should be abolished; and second, that monarchy, with its limitations on unchecked power, tempers the destructive impulses of the state far more than democracy, which actively encourages pandering, corruption, and short-sighted plunder. In Hoppe’s analysis, the transition from monarchy to democracy does not represent societal “progress” but rather a disturbing decline—a descent from restrained, ordered governance into chaos, irresponsibility, and decline.

1/ "Rhodesia will never surrender!" Meet PK van der Byl: aristocrat, eccentric, and soldier-statesman. Before Ian Smith sidelined him, PK was the iron backbone of Rhodesia—a living symbol of resistance against a world eager to see Rhodesia fall. 2/ Born in 1923 into one of the oldest Cape Dutch families in South Africa, PK van der Byl was an aristocrat to the core. Universally known as "PK" and sporting colorful nicknames like "The Tripod" for his notorious love of women and "The Piccadilly Dutchman" for his Anglicized style, he masterfully fused Afrikaner heritage with British elegance.

His father, Major Piet van der Byl, was a minister in Jan Smuts’s cabinet, while his mother hailed from a distinguished military family. Tall, striking, and sharp-witted, PK's devilish humor and flamboyant flair made him a larger-than-life figure wherever he went.

Aesthetics as Demonization and Demoralization

1/ Post-war Germany can be examined through the contrasting perspectives of Hans-Jürgen Syberberg, a German filmmaker and cultural historian, and Theodor Adorno, the Jewish-Marxist co-founder of the Frankfurt School.
2/ Syberberg observes that despite Germany's "economic miracle" following WW2, its culture, and people remains a hollow shell. German culture is engineered to be an exercise in humiliation to keep the German people in eternal bondage and servitude.