The Intolerance of the Tolerant and of the Tolerated

2008-JUL-10

"... ability to separate a person from their beliefs, to like someone regardless of whether you disagree with or even hate what they stand for."

I believe this to be a serious mistake, because if you could perform such a separation, then the person might as well not be part of the group you hate, yet they are, and shall remain so, regardless of your friendship with them. In a real sense, they become a liability to you (due to the potentially corrosive presence of their group's thoughts in your conversations with the individual, and due to the individual's personal knowledge of you, which comes from those conversations, and which might be passed on to the group), whereas your acceptance of the individual only strengthens the group, because, in effect, you have accepted a small portion of the group, in the guise of the one individual, thus, in some small way, legitimizing the group's existence.

For example, I know a few Christians. I've been extremely nice to them, even bending over backwards to explain how my concept of the universe (which is called Digital Physics, which is based on cellular automata, and which originated with the book Rechnender Raum, by Konrad Zuse, the Nazi who invented the world's first, fully automatic, programmable computer, the Z3) might fit in with their god's "plan" for me, but their response is basically to treat me as if I had just told them that everything they believe is totally nuts. The point is that there is no appeasement to be had. After they realize that I cannot be "saved", there is no way to get along with them. Logic and reason, if they ever had these things, has left them, and no matter how nice I am to them, they will never see me on the same level as they are. In fact, I might as well be gum on the bottom of their shoe, for their god doesn't allow them to show any humanity to me.

I've tried to figure out why a person like me (who can be very nice and empathic, who tries hard to understand how these people think, and who attempts to attain some sort of compatibility with them, within a reasoned and logical framework), always gets treated as an enemy. My conclusion is that there is a very important, fundamental difference between me and them, one which cannot be bridged, in any manner. That difference is that I continue to explore the universe, with an open mind, ready to completely change my life, should I discover some deep, verifiable truth, whereas they are done exploring, because they live solely by the revelations they have received from their god. To me, everything is possible, but to them, only what their god says is possible.

You absolutely cannot be real friends with an individual, who is strongly connected to a group, whose basic tenets are diametrically opposed to your own individual ones. You can sugarcoat these relationships of yours as much as you like, but if you were to spend even a single day with these so-called friends of yours, particularly in some sort of tense situation, where amorphous beliefs need be translated directly into real-world action, you would quickly find major cracks in whatever bonds you think you share with these people. These supposed friendships of yours are delusional, at best, and dangerous, at worst. It is ridiculous to believe that whatever philosophical detente you think you have reached, between your beliefs and those of the individual's group, is somehow genuinely usable and stable.

The only reason these people are friendly towards you is because you seem safe to them. If you were to suddenly become an armband-wearing, street-marching, speech-making, book-burning Nazi, they would not be so keen to separate your individuality from your group's beliefs. The apparent tolerance you have here goes only one way, from you to them. In the extreme, like for when you join some real, visible group, the illusion that these people tolerate your group beliefs would be easily broken, and you would see them for what they are, fake friends.

Don't be such a pussy. There's a reason cats and dogs don't have sex, no matter how much they sniff each other's butts. I'm not being mean. I didn't just write more than 700 words to be mean to you. I wrote this because it genuinely bothers me how these people say positive things to you, but very likely don't actually mean any of them. There can be no separation between the group and the individual whose nature strongly resembles that of the group.







A scorpion and a tortoise became such fast friends that they took a vow that they would never separate. So when it happened that one of them was obliged to leave his native land, the other promised to go with him. They had traveled only a short distance when they came to a wide river. The scorpion was now greatly troubled.

"Alas," he said, "you, my friend, can easily swim, but how can a poor scorpion like me ever get across this stream?"

"Never fear," replied the tortoise; "only place yourself squarely on my broad back and I will carry you safely over."

No sooner was the scorpion settled on the tortoise's broad back, than the tortoise crawled into the water and began to swim. Halfway across he was startled by a strange rapping on his back, which made him ask the scorpion what he was doing.

"Doing?" answered the scorpion. "I am whetting my sting to see if it is possible to pierce your hard shell."

"Ungrateful friend," responded the tortoise, "it is well that I have it in my power both to save myself and to punish you as you deserve." And straightway he sank his back below the surface and shook off the scorpion into the water.







2008-JUL-26

"Ahh, you're back?" -- That's like asking an incontinent invisible man if he's still in the room.

Be tolerant? Yeah, right. He says, in his journal entry about you: "No matter what your first impression of someone may be, you cannot be quick to judge anyone." Uh-huh. He must be excluding himself from the set of "you", as do all who make such rules, because he was certainly quick to judge me. I posted the exact same comment there, as I did here, to which I got the following response, as well as my comment being reported as spam.

"Sorry, but I don't appreciate spam in my comments, no matter what shape it's in." -- My first post in a week, and that's what I get. Wow, what an ass. Oh, sorry, I meant: intolerant ass. Out of 60 comments, mine was the only spam. He doesn't appreciate spam? No, what he means is that he doesn't tolerate those comments, which he chooses to perceive, at any given moment, as spam.

My response: "That wasn't spam. It was a test to see if you really are what you say you are. Congratulations. You failed. Also, I don't take kindly to people, especially of the so-called "tolerant" variety, reporting my comments in a manner which can cost me my account. You could have just hidden it, Mr. Tolerance. You talk about how it's okay to see a swastika on here, but apparently, it isn't, even when the context itself is tolerant, which should have been apparent from the avatar I used. Don't expect to hear from me again, mostly because you are no better than the anti-Nazi crowd."

His response: "Your comment was spam. There was absolutely no purpose of provoking discussion in your comment, it was merely a mosaic of avatars. I wouldn't have allowed it if it was a swastika or a flower."

I see that my above assessment, of how he perceives comments, is correct, particularly given that he never specified what he would consider to be spam. His fleeting tolerance of you is as amorphous as his cloudy definition of spam. The self-styled "tolerant" are not your friends. They are no better than the intolerant, and maybe even worse. Do you recall what I wrote to you in the forum? I stand by everything I said there, and in this situation, the following part specifically applies.

"The only reason these people are friendly towards you is because you seem safe to them. If you were to suddenly become an armband-wearing, street-marching, speech-making, book-burning Nazi, they would not be so keen to separate your individuality from your group's beliefs. The apparent tolerance you have here goes only one way, from you to them. In the extreme, like for when you join some real, visible group, the illusion that these people tolerate your group beliefs would be easily broken, and you would see them for what they are, fake friends."

You are currently in favor with these people because all you do is talk about NS, and only in its pure form, but as soon as you take any sort of action, you will fall out of favor with everyone, except those who are diehard, White NS. Action requires dilution of the pure form, because those who preach any ideology must get their hands dirty, when they finally decide to practice what they preach. For example, it is highly unlikely that a White NS country could be effected, without lots of people getting hurt or killed, on all sides. Enjoy your popularity with the "tolerant", while it lasts, because you will most certainly lose it, in stages, when you decide to do something, anything, concrete.

I posit that when you show, seek or accept tolerance, you not only reveal some of your weaknesses, but you also reinforce them, and you not only succumb to lies, but you also become an unknowing carrier of them. In a brief attempt to prove my thesis, I'll end this comment with the following, non-sequential, non-contiguous, heavily-edited, mostly-pertinent excerpts from Savitri Devi's "Trotz".







[In 1949, Savitri Devi was arrested, in Cologne, for distributing National Socialist propaganda. She went before a military tribunal, in Düsseldorf, and was sentenced to three years in Werl prison, where her cell was searched, and the manuscripts of her unfinished books "Gold in the Furnace" and "The Lightning and the Sun", as well as the finished manuscript of "Impeachment of Man", were seized. She was told that if they contained anything objectionable to the authorities, they would be destroyed.]

I heard a noise in the key-hole, and turned my head towards the door. To my delight, it was Fräulein S. "Do you think you know me enough to be able to tell when I lie and when I speak the truth?" asked I. "I can guess your natural reluctance to lies," replied Fräulein S. "But I know, also, that you are a genuine Nazi. That is enough. In the interest of the cause, you are capable of anything. You have proved it, now, once more."

A former SS man had once told me: "The first duty of a National Socialist is to be beautiful, physically, and on all planes." These words are worthy of an ancient Greek, words of an Aryan of all times. Also, my comrade, Herr A, who, without having served in the Waffen SS, is just as devoted a follower of Adolf Hitler as any of those who have, had once told me: "A National Socialist should have no weaknesses." These words I had remembered so many times since my manuscript, into which I bad put so much love, had been in danger of being destroyed. I reflected that, indeed, unless one had "no weaknesses", one could not be perfectly beautiful; that every weakness is a flaw in the steel of one's character; a tendency to sacrifice beauty to happiness, duty to individual ties, the future to the present, the eternal to the illusory; that it is a definite possibility of decay. Only out of flawless elements can living gods emerge. The man whose life is a thing of integral beauty, the man with no weaknesses is the man with no ties, who performs duty with ruthless thoroughness and with serenity.

It is difficult to be absolutely detached. Yet it is the condition without which the right action loses its beauty, and perhaps, sometimes also, a part of its efficiency. It is the condition without which the one who acts remains all-too-human; too human to be a worthy National Socialist. How far have I gone along that path of absolute detachment, which is ours? A German woman [Fräulein S.] who has struggled and suffered for the cause has done me the honor to consider me "a genuine National Socialist". How far do I deserve that honor, in the light of our eternal standards of virtue?" I meditated upon the way of absolute detachment, which is the way of the strong, in the light of the oldest known summary of Aryan philosophy, the Bhagavad-Gîta, and in the light of all I knew of the modern Ideology, for the love of which I was in jail.

The more I thus meditated, the more I marveled at the accuracy of the statement of that fifteen year-old, illiterate Hindu lad, who had told me, in glorious 1940: "White lady, I too admire your Führer. He is fighting in order to replace, in the whole West, the Bible by the Bhagavad-Gîta." "Yes," thought I, "to replace the equalitarian and pacifist philosophy of the Christians by the philosophy of natural hierarchy and the religion of detached violence, the immemorial Aryan wisdom!" Never had I, perhaps, been so vividly aware of the continuity of the Aryan attitude to life from the earliest times to now; of the one more-than-human truth, of the one great ideal of more-than-human beauty, that underlies all expressions of typically Aryan genius, from the warrior-like piety of the Bhagavad-Gîta, to the fiery criticisms of misguided pacifism and the crystal-clear exhortations to selfless action in Mein Kampf.

To "live in truth" is not scrupulously to avoid lies and deceit and all manner of "unfair" dealings, if these be expedient in the service of a higher purpose. It is to live in perfect accordance with one's place and mission in the scheme of things; in accordance with that which is called, in the Bhagavad-Gîta, one's svadharma, one's own duty. It is a race's own duty, its place and purpose in the general scheme of creation, that defines what are its rights. Never are the so-called "rights" of the inferior races to define the duties of the higher ones. The duty of the Aryan is to live consciously "in truth", ruling the rest of men, while raising himself, through detached action, to the state of supermanhood. The duty of the inferior races is to stay in their places. That is the only way they can also live "in truth", indirectly. Aryan wisdom understood that, long ago, and organized India according to the principle of racial hierarchy, taking no account whatsoever neither of "individual happiness", nor of the "value of every man as such".

Alone in our times, we National Socialists militate in favor of an organization of the whole world on the basis of those self-same eternal principles; of that self-same natural hierarchy. That is why our cause is the cause of truth. That is why we have the duty, and therefore the right, to do anything which is in the interest of our divine cause. I must, also, not feel sorry to break my word, and to repay the enemy's leniency with what the Democrats would call "cynical ingratitude". I am a fighter for the Nazi cause, openly at war with these people for the last ten years, and from the day I was able to think, at war with the values for which they stand. All is fair in war. All is fair in our dealings with that world that we are out to remold or to destroy. There is only one law for us: expediency.

I now had almost the certitude that my manuscripts would be destroyed. Still, for a while, I forgot all about them in the joy and pride that I experienced as I weighed in my mind every sentence Colonel Vickers had addressed me: "You despise us and our justice, in your heart, where you sneer at the most elementary decent feelings, and where you have nothing but contempt for our standards of behavior." An intelligent man. He seemed no longer to believe, as he had so naively a week before, that I "cannot but" look upon any human life as more sacred than that of a cat. Perhaps he had read enough of my book to lose his illusions on that point, or perhaps someone had been kind enough to enlighten him. Anyhow, he understood me, and his words flattered me. His last sentence: "You are the most objectionable type of Nazi that I have ever met," was, in my eyes, the greatest tribute to my natural National Socialist orthodoxy yet paid to me by an enemy of our cause. I pointed out how our National Socialist wisdom is nothing else but the immemorial Aryan Wisdom of detached violence, thus justifying in the light of the highest Tradition, all that we did, all that we might do in the future. From the democratic standpoint, perhaps that is, after all, more dangerous and therefore more "objectionable" than the so-called "war-crimes" that I had not the opportunity to commit. Perhaps Colonel Vickers had merely made a statement of fact, implicitly recognizing the meaning of my attitude, the meaning of my whole life.

I closed my eyes, and brought before my mind the nightmare vision of the ruins of Germany; and I tried to imagine the hell that had preceded that desolation of hundreds and hundreds of miles; and the terror of the German people, of my comrades, of my brothers in faith, in the midst of that man-made hell. I also brought before my mind the Occupation, in and since 1945, in all its horror: the dismantling of the factories, the starvation of the people, the massacre of the holy forests; and the long-drawn systematic attempt at crushing the people's very soul, at "de-nazifying" them, through fear and bribery, through the monstrous trial of Nuremberg, and through all of the subsequent iniquities and cruelties. I thought of all that, and felt in my heart the same devouring thirst for vengeance which had been, from 1945 to 1948, the only feeling for the sake of which I had clung to life. Those appalling ruins were the ruins of our New Order, of the one thing for which I had lived. That endless suffering, that unheard-of humiliation, were the suffering and humiliation of people who believed in Hitler, the only people I looked up to, the only people whom I loved, in the modern world. Those men, fluttering convulsively, each one at the end of a rope, on that dismal morning of the 16th October, 1946, were the martyrs of Nuremberg, to the memory of whom I had dedicated my lost book, the closest collaborators of my Führer. In Europe, in America, people had gloated over them. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

I pictured within my mind the face of our Führer, stern, profoundly sad, pertaining to the beauty of things eternal, against the background of his martyred country, first in flames and then in ruins; also against the background of those endless frozen white plains, where snow covered the slain in battle, while the survivors of the Wehrmacht, of the SS regiments, of the Leibstandarte, that elite among the elite, driven further and further east as prisoners of war, went their way to a fate often worse than death. I burst out sobbing at the memory of that complete sacrifice of millions, offered as the price of the resurrection of real Germany, of Aryan man, the god-like youth of the world. I felt an icy cold thrill run up my spine, as an unsuspected power emerged from me. My mind went back to the unknown man of vision, who wrote down the beautiful myth, of the visit of Ishtar to the netherworld, where she entered naked into the chambers of the dead, to bring back to life her beloved, Tammuz, the divine youth who dies every winter, and who rises in glory every spring, as it is reported in the old Sumerian epic of Gilgamesh, seven thousand years ago. This helped me to realize, today, in captivity, that unless I willingly despoiled myself of everything mine, unless I looked upon nothing as mine, I could not work for our second rising. I then gave up all regret of my lost book: "Let them destroy it, if they must." And in an outburst of half-human, half-religious love, exactly as on the night of my arrest, when faced with the threat of disfiguring torture, I once again felt happy and invincible.

Savitri's own cover art, in which an Aryan loyalist salutes the Sun, as it rises behind the rubble of bombed-out Germany.