Oslo, Pozlo

My bus arrived in Oslo at 830, but, it might as well have been any other time of day. At this time of year, the Norwegian sky never rises beyond a dull gleam. I managed the transition correctly this time, and boarded a city-bus, bound for a stop in an obscure suburb where my host had arranged to meet me. The ride lasted half an hour, ample time for me to ruminate on the wisdom of electing to book a room with a total stranger. The bus’ route alternated sharp left with sharp right turns, all the while going up a steep hill. As it did, I delved ever farther into the Norwegian countryside.

Or really the suburbs, but European suburbs are not a proper Suburbia. Sidewalks are rare, and they are never cream-colored concrete, but asphalt or gravel. They are also messier. Despite the Nords’ well deserved reputation for cleanliness and order, certain aspects of the American Dream elude them. The areas between the road and a property’s fence is often unkempt. The houses, while often alive with gay colors, seem discordant with the grey roads, grey sidewalks, and the ever grayer sky.

I found myself in this dim world, well past 9, on a Thursday night. Alone. Despite what I thought had been the plan, my host had left me to my fate. Of course my cell plan only worked in Sweden. And obviously I hadn’t bothered to draw a map from the bus-stop to her house beforehand, when I had had access to the glorious Google. Not that any of this was all that big of a deal. It was cool, but not cold, and I have certainly slept outside before. Although usually not while sober. Or I could not be a lazy, stingy fucker, gather up my shekels, and ride back into town to find a hostel. But honestly I felt safer roughing it in the ‘burbs. It’s Norway for godsake.

Right! Norway! I can trust pretty much anyone, and they’re guaranteed to trust me. After all, this is Europe’s Minnesota. So, for the first time in my life, I stuck a thumb out at a passing car. It stopped. I asked the driver–a grey-bestubbled man of about 40 years–if he would be so kind as to help me unfuck myself. He responded in crisp English, deducing where I was supposed to go from my meager clues. Armed with an address and idiot-proof directions, I cast aside my roughing-it fantasy and set out for the last leg of my journey.

Onnolee is a total SWPL. Just like my mother. Here I was, 5000 miles from America, and I met another middle-aged, middle-class woman who drinks wine, abhors violence, wants to protect the environment and is terrified of Donald Trump. Even her house looked like my mother’s. Naturally I was quite relieved. This meant three nights of not having to sleep spooning my backpack and its precious contents. But her SWPLdom has made for some funny moments. One morning, I noticed on the kitchen billboard a remarkably detailed hand-drawing of three WWII-era weapons: the MP-40, MG-42, and PPSH. I was impressed, and complimented the drawings’ accuracy. She apologized, and said it was her six-year-old son’s. “I hope it’s just a phase.”

Norwegian autism rages on.

Norway is more based than far-gone Sweden. The government is far stingier with healthcare, and less friendly to the Hadji hordes. The country looks like the America of my childhood–all white, except the inner city and certain unfortunate settlement zones. Like any white person, it has been my habit to avoid such areas.

So, a slave to habit, I spent my first two days in Oslo doing white things. Friday I walked around town for several hours and went to the Armed Forces Museum. Military history museums are great because 1) weapons 2) no faggots allowed. I was hoping for a full-wing exhibit on the SS divisions “Der Wiking” and “Nordland,” complete with a memorial to the fallen, a special exhibit on Operation Frühlingserwachen, maybe even a veteran meet-and-greet. Sadly that didn’t pan out. But I was not too disappointed. They had some pretty grisly-looking artifacts of Norwegian life in the bad-old-days.

A cured and stuffed specimen of Homo Norwegiensis Antejudaeicus. Skis and rifle in hand, cigar in mouth, bayonet fixed. It is long, hard and shiny.

And apparently Norway has had an on-going thing with Sweden. Who knew?

Oslo’s city center is like anywhere else in Europe. After a while you get bored of the trafficless thoroughfares lined with French boutiques, hemmed-in by street artists and flooded with Arabs. And I don’t mean the cosmopolitan, ancient-heritage Iraqi/Gypo kind. I mean the burqa’ed, make-up becaked Camel-trash that has enough petro-dollars to shop in to European cities that aren’t Paris. God they’re nauseating. But I don’t want to get sidetracked. The Oslo Muzzies will get an article of their own. So, having drunk my fill of the same-old-same-old, I resolved to find some food.

“Reindeer Meat and Whale Stakes” the sign said. In English though, so obviously for tourists. I was not expecting the authentic Norwegian peasant experience, this being 21st century Oslo–POZlo. I’ll take reindeer meat no matter the presentation. But as I perused the outrageously overpriced menu, I detected something remiss. The decor was somehow off. Each table had a rose–a fake rose. A lot of stuff was brown. The curtains were overdone. RUSSIANS! Sure enough, the hostess and the other girl were speaking Muscovite. I got up, put my menu back in the pile, and said “dorogoi”–“expensive,” making full use of Russian’s economy of words. The girl was lying back in a chair, smiling, nonplussed. I guess she was expecting that.

I walked across town again, finally giving in and paying $11 dollars for a damn beer. Consumer goods in Scandinavia sell for outrageous prices. Must be all the regs. I walked out onto the cobblestone street and took a bench. Oddly I was drinking more to remedy my thirst than my sobriety. As I did, I noted my (mostly) white co-imbibers. Ah, yet another reminder of home–bobos are the same the world over.


Stay tuned the next installment of Race-Tour 2016: “Oslo’s Muslim Ghetto: A Photo Essay.”


The End of History is About to End

We were born at the end of history. Our parents told us to go to college, and then settle back into cruise control for the sweet sunset at the end of the ride.

We’re Bobo’s. SWPLs. Middle-class apparatchiks. The Managerial Class. The Comfortable Ones.

But as my colleague Greg frequently pines, “I’m horny for the race war.” 

We would have that job, that decent car and house after a few years of saving up and we would meet that special someone in college. If we were really artsy, we could become rockstars and BMX semi-pros. If we were feeling rebellious, we could agitate for some social cause in college- like the Boomers had done in the 60’s. We had it all laid out for us, inshallah.

But none of it seems to be working out anymore, praise be to God.

I feel that I speak about much of the alt-right when I characterize us as middle-class discontents. Our problems only really started when we rejected the principles and values of our more well-adjusted peers on a subconcious level. Something wasn’t clicking and we started looking for answers. We choked down the red-pill and came out of our adolescent purgatory understanding the depth of our generation’s betrayal.


Meanwhile, in the world around us history has started to reassert itself, and the long nap following the collapse of the CCCP has ended.  Sleepy and dazed, some of us are starting to wake up and detect a new scent in the air. Things are changing, but a bit too slowly for some…

The incubation stage happened online. We got our hands on forbidden literature, played with dangerous ideas, and honed our arguments on a Salasus Secondis internet containment planet of debate. Since then, we have started to make our way out of the containment boards and forums of the internet, those dark recesses of free speach that the censors were barely aware existed.

Now we’re harassing journalists, holding conferences, and attending massive rallies for the TrumpenFuhrer. Things look good.

But mostly things just seem to be getting worse. And as they do, the normies seem to just double down on escapism and moral signaling behaviors. Unbeknownst to the uninitiated, there were other cesspools swirling away from the public eye on places like Tumblr, and Something Awful (just to name a few.)

A different mass of disenchanted middle-class snowflakes,  found meaning in their petty post-modern lives by creating victim complexes for themselves. They too have exploded onto the political arena, and are a product of middle-class ennuie as much as they are influenced by ideas peddled by the Eternal Merchant. The last year and a half has seen a rapid convergence of several factors, with the left leading an actual modern day cultural revolution, and the alt-right emerging as a virulent reaction.

So far, it has been mostly online, but there comes a point where you just can’t keep doing SWPL things and “hiding our power level” all the while. The ennuie of the middle-aged man feeling the loss of his country, and the ennuie of the young man condemned to have his future robbed from him are fuel to the rising fire. Our little run-ins with Antifa will continue, as will the desire to “do something.”

Who know, maybe we can even expect to see torch lit parades starting very soon in sleepy, complacent and sedated America. But only if the well-to-do wing  of the alt-right is willing to get its bow-tie and tassle-shoes dirty by rubbing shoulders with the “proles.” (There is no hope of Gramscian infiltration for you, lads.)

History is made when marginalized groups of people (whether self-percieved or actually so) decide to make a play, and challenge the status quo. Needless to say, the status quo in the United States and Western Europe was so comfy for so long, it was hard to see any fundamental changes happening any time soon. But the changes came, spurred by the left and intent on changing society from the lib-dem status quo that we inherited. They have been largely successful in positioning Western society (especially in W. Europe) slightly to the right of Mao Zedong. The cultural marxist vision lies at the end of a long-arching pendulum swing to the far left.

In that sense, the Alt-Right is just the next swing of the political pendulum, the next revisionist force that will kickstart history and save us from the petty bourgeoius middle-class homeostasis that the West has found itself in since the end of WW2. A group of angry young white males find themselves marginalized by society…and history shows us what will happen next. Our tactics may change, as may our leaders, but one thing is for sure: the discontent that is felt by a significant minority of the Gen X and Millenial Generation will not go away. It is our job in the alt-right to channel this feeling of ennuie and malaise into the restoration of our civilization and steer away from the self-destrucive storm that has been concocted by the left. We’re the glitch in the system, the rounded off decimal of Pi that everyone wrote off and forgot about…We’re foul-mouthed brutes, sex-crazed fiends, arrogant racists, raving fanatics…and we’re going to kick off the long-awaited renaissance of European civilization. Our Reconquista will be like nothing that came before us. It may take awhile to realize our aims, but the alt-right is just the beginning of a new project. We are not bound to one election cycle because we believe in the forging of a new identity for the European peoples.
…and for our people we will struggle, we will sacrifice, and we will never slacken.

Let’s stop being comfortable, and lets start making history again.



Jet-lagged and horny for Racewar

Jet-lagged and horny for racewar, I went for a 1am stroll around downtown Stockholm. I didn’t find what I was looking for. Everywhere was deserted. I had expected more from this place, even on a weekday night. But there was not a Muslim to be seen. I found myself walking by a massive stone building–a bombastic relic of Sweden’s former majesty. It felt like the White House–only three times bigger and not dumpy. Maybe it was the king’s residence.

It looked important

Regardless, no one would have stopped me if I had strutted up to the front door and slept on the stoop–no soldiers, no cops, not even a groundskeeper. Only when I tried to short-cut my way through a grandiose alley did I encounter three drunk-sounding cops in stupid yellow outfits who, upon noticing, gave me a “hej! odele odele,” which I assume was their attempt at “fuck off guy.”

Out back there was also an elongated igloo with a man/woman sign on it. It looked like a bombproof sauna. Perhaps this was the Swedish government’s way of encouraging degenerates to do their dirty work out of public view. Although, with the proper motivation, I’m sure we could put such things to much more suitable uses.

The tranny oven in fired up and ready.

As I walked around “the palace,” a soulless techno-throb cut through the crisp night air. As I approached its source, it occurred to me that when I was younger, I would have felt immense jealousy for all of the partiers–drinking and dancing with a chance to fornicate. But now it was different. I’ve had my fill of all that. Tonight I felt like Beowulf coming to Heorot, the full of happy drinking and feasting,  its dwellers forcing themselves to forget the menace lurking beyond the fen. I was not tempted. My lust stirred only for great deeds.

Weimar in full swing: downtown Stockholm on a Wednesday night. Like palace guards in medieval Baghdad, the bouncers were all non-locals.

So after guzzling a Guinness while walking across the bridge back to my hostel, I fell asleep fully clothed on my crummy top bunk in my 6-man dorm.  None of this is ok. We have to stop the muzzies.

The next day I set out for Oslo. Normally I would have a plan, but I really want to improve my skills at spontaneity. So I boarded the first regional train I could find bound for Oslo (albeit with changeovers). A few months ago, I bought a Eurail pass for 17 days of travel. Theoretically I should be able to get on any train that isn’t an express without any fuss. This is how it had worked for me in Germany a few years ago. But here too, Sweden has to be a pain in the ass. Most of the trains require reservations. In the end, I got as far as Orebro before I missed a connection and had to suck it up and buy a real bus ticket.

Orebro is a second-rate city. I had to spend an hour and a half in this purgatory, apparently for the sin of not understanding how to use the Eurail application (btw, fuck anyone who says “app”). I walked 100 meters away from the train/bus terminal and I got a eyefull of Mogadishu. Well, not really The Mog, but a mash-up of Somalia and 1990s Canada. To experience this foul hybrid, I probably could have just gone to Minneapolis, but this was cooler. The whites and third-worlders seemed to be living in a funny detente. I sensed the tension, the depression, the want of asabiyyah. But, despite the gypsies outside every grocery store, race-war seemed far from imminent.

The first thing I noticed (after the swarms of thirdies) were the Mormons. In under 10 minutes I saw 2 pairs of panted-and-tied fags in raincoats doing cold-approaches on random non-Muslims.

The only thing between the Old Swedes [left] and the New Swedes [right] is a pair of Mormons.
My first thought was the same “fucking Mormans” anti-cultism that had made me suspicious of Mitt Romney in 2012, and that would later lead me to anti-semitism. But that’s another story. As I reflected, I realized that these Maroonies were on the same sort of mission I was, even if for them it was about helping people. They are going out into the ruins of The West to save what they can–healthy white people with middling IQs. Maybe their approach is the only way out. While I am busy trying to salvage Western Civilization for one last go at the stars, they are calmly laying the way for what comes after the inevitable Fall. Like Christians proselytizing Romans in the very shadows of the old temples, the Mormons know that, for Faustian Civ, all is lost. I guess they are focused on out-recruiting competing mystery cults and revving up for the doctrine wars that accompany the death throes of a great religious system.

I turned west and found the city center. A squat castle sat in the middle of a lake. Across the street was a bus stop. It started drizzling, so I walked up to the church. The interior was Gothic, simple, elegant and totally empty. The only other person inside was at the piano–tuning it. But he seemed to be knocking on the keys in such a way as to accidentally produce minor progressions. If it had been intentional, it would have been less eerie.

Orebro Castle. If you look closely, you’ll note the migrant sneaking out of the moor to the left of the statue.
Right across from the castle. This picture understates the diversity.

I had a satisfying sandwich at Subway and reported to the bus terminal and left for Oslo. I also decided to come back.

The Unbearable Whiteness of Being

There is a very Yuropoorean tendancy to eschew the “white” label. “We are French, and therefore nothing like those Belgians!” they proclaim. Its true, the French and Belgians are different…in theory…(sidebar: when was the last time you ever met a Belgian and not just some expat working in Brussels? Do Belgians even live in Belgium anymore??)

But as our Marxist professors are quick to point out in the Government department, nationalism or national self-identity is created as a response to “the other.” The need to rally against a common enemy creates a  shared temporary identity that the in-group latches onto. This is yet another liberal half-truth masquerading as fact, as I’m sure the astute reader will notice. There is more to national identity than rallying around a negative, there is in fact a positive, shared history, genetic similarity, etc.

But let’s take the standard libshit sophistry away from the statement as best we can and analyze it. Is it fair to say that there are push and pull factors that contribute to national identity, negative and positive associations? It seems emminently reasonable to me, but then I’ve been listening to Richard Spencer a lot lately…

There is pushback from old school patriots that seem unable to grasp this dichotomy inherent in national identity. They focus on the “positive” factor, drawing on history and national memory to ground their movement, but seem to struggle to understand the magnitude of the problem Europe faces in combatting the great “other.”

This often leads to fractious quarrelling and an unfounded sense of racial superiority that I see in dealings with little nationalists of little countries.  They seem to be offended by the fact that people lump them in under the category of “white.”


Its a misplaced superiority complex. And its this petty nationalism that is present among many Ukrainian nationalists, Polish nationalists, Croat nationalists (to name a few). Their great “other” is their immediate neighbor, and there is little sense of pan-white identity present in their nationalist movements. Sad!

But one thing these petty nationalist CAN rally around is their opposition to being lumped in as “white” by American patriots. Short-sighted to say the least…

It’s about time to embrace whiteness instead of running away from it. Here’s a gem I plucked from an American patriot:

When will you realizse we rally behind the white identity because that that is the part of us the attack. Whether youre belgian or not doesnt mean a rats ass to these jackals. To them, anybody with the right piece of paper can be Belgian. They only thing they see, and the only thing they hate about you is that you area member of the white race.

The rapid arrival of a hostile other is expediting the process, but we must be wary of the rise of a petty nationalism that does not take into account the context of the worldwide White dilemna. In that context, Britain’s desire to leave the EU to get away from the dreaded Polish Plumbers is either a subtle dog whistle or just typical Anglo 5th columnism. So is Scotland’s bizarre desire to leave the UK to just turn around and join the EU, (and also encourage more immigration). Examples abound, and all of them revolve around the idea that these people claim they are separate and different from people they are rather similar to when compared to the existential threat of the 3rd world invasion.

I’ll leave you with this from the same anonymous American:

Oh you think the brown hordes take any second to consider whether you’re Polish or Norwegian when they’re robbing you, raping your women and eventually replacing you? The only thing they see is that you’re white. They don’t give a single shit whether your particular nation colonisez them at some point or not. Cut the unfounded superiority complex you Europeans constantly try to pull. You act as if you’re somehow better or more enlightened than us because you dont self-identify as white. Here’s a little wake-up call buddy: you’re the same fucking “white guy” to these people as us mongrels you love to berate. Falling back onto “bu-but I’m French, Italian, etc” doesn’t mean shit to therse peopel. White is an umbrella term that describes the European race with all its unique ethnicities. That includes you. 

As has been aptly put by many on the alt-right, we can identify as one race and work towards fostering brotherhood and cooperation among ourselves without ruining the uniqueness of each of our nations and cultures.

The 2016 Pan-European Summer Race Tour

AI is pleased to announce that we will be traveling around Europe for the next two months. Our goal is to provide first-hand reporting on the ‘refugee’ crisis. As the summer heats up, the vapors are sure to infuse the animal spirits of our third-worlder nemeses. With any luck, we will be able to document it all for you. If, on the other hand, there is nothing wrong, Europe is fine, and no caliphate is imminent, we will be sure to inform you alt-righters to calm the fuck down and go back to your maturbatoria. We’re not holding our breath (even if you guys are). So it is with great excitement that we inaugurate The 2016 Pan-European Summer Race Tour.

Think of it as a postmodern crusade. In Chaucer’s day, a young aristocrat would lay out his steel-plate panoply, line up a couple barrels of bordeaux, and board the next boat to Lithuania to smash some Christianity into those proto-Indo-European linguistic bumpkins. But today, your typical warrior of God packs a go-ruck with a stack of underwear, a wad of charging cables and caffeine pills. He then sets out to smash the red-pill into the cuddly natives before they catch AIDS from the Skinnies.

Stockholm Syndrome

My immersion in the battlespace was swift.  As soon as I walked off my plane into Stockholm’s Arlanda Airport, I spotted signs of the Decay. At first, I was a bit dazed at my surroundings–Arlanda is a mix of IKEA and a shopping mall at Christmastime. Everything seemed to glow in multi-colored lights. Maybe it was because I was hungry. I had not eaten since my bedtime vodka-tonic with melatonin  on the flight. So I bought a banana and a twist-pastry at 7-11 and sat down to soak it all in. Of course, then I noticed that the people were multi-colored too.

Almost as soon as I sat down, a blond Swedess took the table in front of me. In toe was her straight-haired, toffee-skinned toddler. I let out an exhausted eyeroll and shot back some coffee, too jet-lagged to care about racial hygiene for the moment. After all, this is what I came here for. I took another bite of my lame biscuit (a loaf-shaped pretzel, duplicitously laced with raspberry jelly), and tried to think about how I would get downtown.

But then things got diverse. The blonde’s blond friend showed up with her kid. Ooo, a playdate! And a perfect pairing, because the new child was also blue-eyed and toffee-skinned. Triggering, but not enough to overcome my brain’s preoccupation with its own functioning. The women weren’t really all that attractive anyway. (Don’t worry goys, next time I’ll get pics.) This being my first time in Scandinavia, I expected Uma Thurmans everywhere.  I don’t remember how, but eventually the mothers and their mischlings left me to fret about more immediate concerns.

Despite this little episode, I have so far been underwhelmed. Sweden is not in meltdown. I am not worried about frags crashing through my window tonight. Compared to what I am used to, things seem to be under control. Stockholm is beautiful–the old town looks like it has changed little since the early 18th century. Sweden skipped out on the last few wars, so it has not been repeatedly rebuilt, like other European cities of similar antiquity. Most Old Swedes seem just like SWPLs in the US. They carry on with their own kind, only having to ignore the gypsies on the street-corners and outside the supermarkets. No wonder the slow death of the West is only understandable in the abstract.

As the summer goes on, AI will bring you more sketches of Euro-life. If all goes according to plan, we’ll have stories of more than just encounters with post-modern tedium a la Camus.

More people with a brain will read this blog than your snarky little sign, stupid antifa!
Stockholm. More people with a brain will read this blog than your snarky little sign, stupid antifa.

A French Patriot Declares War

Eugene de Malphete, a true French patriot, declares war on the ideology of white ethnocide. Mssr. Malphete has appeared on AI before, in RED DAWN 11, where he discussed the European situation with G. Ritter and V. Law. In the following essay, he outlines the threats Westerners face, and what we can do to counter them:

The whole Occident is in trouble. Europeans have the same problems as exist in the United States of America. In fact, the POZ is even worse in Europe. If whites want to save themselves, we must realize the commonality of our problems. European and American patriots need to work together. But too often we do not understand that we face the same problems. Europeans’ fight is Americans’ fight too. So as a Frenchman, I would like to offer my take on the West’s issues, so that my American comrades might better comprehend our shared predicament.

Europe specifically faces three mortal threats: radical Islam, loss of identity, and disastrous political decision-making. All these factors lead to occidental submission and, eventually, the destruction of Western Civilization.

First, I intend to give a simple idea of our enemies’ political ideology, and to offer several illustrations of it. This ideology relies on the Strategy of Destruction and the Strategic Deconstruction Model. Then I will explain how these ideas have led to our current situation. In using the word “deconstruction” to describe the intentional dismantling of a culture, I follow French journalist Eric Zemmour, author of The French suicide (2014).

The Plan

Our enemies seek the destruction of the nation-state. The nation-state has 3 components: its People, its Geography, and its Leader, whether he is a king, prime minister or president. But nowadays, the people are no longer sovereign, their leaders do not serve the people’s interests, or even the interest of the state. Territories do not have borders anymore and governments obey to super-national political and legal entities such as the European Union and the European Court of Human Rights. By destroying the nation-state’s components, our enemy seeks to bring about the deconstruction of humanity.

They mask their strategy with propagandistic claims such as::

  • That there is no need to inherit your own culture in order to become part of the national community. Rather, one must inherit the culture of others, in fact it must be transmitted to you, and the state should even encourage it!
  • That we must accept racial interbreeding and alien traditions and customs. We are compelled to tolerate and celebrate non-European religions, eating habits (Hallal, Vegetarianism, etc), and even languages (or just bastardizations of European tongues). Of course, the immigrants bring nothing in the way of new technologies, nor capital provisions–only cultural corruption.

This was the birth of what the Americans have called “multiculturalism.” Through this ideology, all cultures and all people are equal. Multiculturalism has, by the logic of Marxian dialectic, become a kind of communism.

The ideology uses different means to achieve the destruction of the nation-state:

  • The abolition of the concept of national preference. Thus, European citizens have exactly the same rights than foreigners from anywhere.
  • The moral and political enfeeblement of the People. We have been morally corrupted through mechanisms such as degenerate television programming and legalized vice. Our political degradation has been achieved via the abolition (restriction?) of the referendum, which until recently was the best means for the people to assert their will, and thereby resisting multiculturalism.
  • Xenophobia, racism, and anti-Semitism are held up as the ultimate evil.
  • The use of gross sentimentalism to distort the People’s historical memory. To achieve this end, the Strategy of Destruction relies on never-ending commemorations and public repentance for colonialism, the holocaust, racism etc. The maxim “Homo homini lupus est,” ie “A man is a wolf to another man,” has given way to “Europaeus omnibus lupus est.”

How did the Occident become susceptible to multiculturalist deconstruction? How could such a preposterous ideology seep into our thinking? Multiculturalism does not attack one’s reason, but one’s emotions and sense of morality. It exploits’ whites’ inclination toward guilt and shame. It also manipulated long-standing ideas about philosophy, sociology and history, in order to destroy the nation-state and its People.

I intend to write a series of essays to elucidate the “strategic deconstruction model” and how it has achieved ideological dominance over Western Civilization. The SDM attempts to remake man–by building a creature who will blindly follow the instructions given by the common ideology. This ideology is nothing less than a despotism of the mind.


Academic Interview 10: Cucking for the Singularity

Academic Interview 10: Cucking for the Singularity

All these goddamn materialists think the Singularity is just around the corner. But they have never considered the mind-body problem. And Neuroscience is a bunch of bull. Ritter and Singh cover Descartes and idealism, logic and linguistics. What does metaphysics have to say about an infinite and perfect artificial intelligence? The Singularity Cucks would have us believe it’s all just a matter of grey matter. They want us all cucking for the Singularity by engaging in quantum gambling and majoring in STEM.

Hey, sometimes even autistes can be retards.

Babylonian Philosophy? Part 3

Back to Part 2

A More Promising Approach

Mieroop’s work fails to define epistemology narrowly enough, and cultural relativism is to blame. Another problem is that, unless a philosophical treatise turns up in cuneiform, any evidence of Babylonian philosophy is indirect. But Mieroop’s quest for Mesopotamian philosophy is not hopeless. With superior method, we might yet uncover something of the Babylonians’ intellectual life. I propose three methods: (1) Using better-documented philosophical traditions as control variables, (2) comparing Babylonian religious and literary texts with the fragments of the Presocratics, and (3) analyzing the thematic development of Babylonian literature, insofar as it can be traced.

The first is the least ambitious method. It would use better-documented, philosophical traditions to evaluate claims about Babylonian intellectual history. The better-documented tradition would act as a control variable. Too bad Mieroop did not think of it, because this method destroys a core assumption of his thesis–that any complicated thinking presupposes epistemology. So then, is there civilization with complicated thinking, even systematic philosophy, but devoid of epistemology?

Continue reading Babylonian Philosophy? Part 3

Babylonian Philosophy? Part 2

back to part 1, on to part 3

Cultural Relativism

Mieroop suffers from cultural relativism, like much of academia. Cultural relativism (or just “relativism”) stems from the assumption that we cannot value any of the achievements of Western culture’s over the achievements of another culture. To do so would mean we have acted out of pro-Western bias. But what if the Western culture did achieve something of objectively higher value? Would acknowledging western culture’s qualitative superiority in that particular matter mean we are biased?

To the preceding questions, a relativist would answer that no such valuation is possible, that we cannot value cultural achievements objectively. And he would be right, at least regarding certain realms of cultural achievement, such as literature.  It is nearly impossible to compare one literary tradition to another. The scholar of literature faces all sorts of impediments: differences of tastes, language, historical and cultural references. Literary taste depends on culture and education, it is subjective.

But relativism is unhelpful in objective matters. It causes scholars to abjure making qualitative distinctions between the achievements of one culture and another, even in realms like mathematics and science that can be compared objectively. No one would assert that the ancient Egyptians attained a higher level of mathematics than the medieval Muslims. That is not to denigrate the Egyptians, of course their Muslim successors attained greater heights because “they stood on the shoulders of giants.” But claiming that the Egyptians invented trigonometry would be ridiculous. Like mathematics, epistemology belongs to the objective realm. Certain methods of discerning truth are better than others–they can be more or less systematic, and lead to more accurate results. So while it is difficult to weigh the relative merits of, say, Greek and Chinese literature (a subjective assessment), it is not difficult to judge the Greek philosophical achievement as superior to the Somali.

Continue reading Babylonian Philosophy? Part 2

Babylonian Philosophy? Part 1

A Review of Philosophy before the Greeks: The Pursuit of Truth in Ancient Babylonia by Columbia Professor Marc van de Mieroop. (Note: This review originally ran in November 2015 at The Ritter Review, a blog set up by Greg Ritter before the founding of AI. We have reason to believe that the author has read it and reached trigger-factor 5. This is what happens when you exclude all the smart people from academia. heh).

by Gregory Ritter


Like many in academia, Columbia professor Marc van de Mieroop brings up a fascinating question, then manages to bungle his answer. In Philosophy before the Greeks: The Pursuit of Truth in Ancient Babylonia he asks whether the ancient Babylonians developed epistemology. Epistemology, or “theory of knowledge,” is the study of knowledge, or as Plato defined it, true, justified belief. It has been regarded as central to all philosophy since ancient Greece. Because they developed epistemology, the Greek philosophers have held a unique place in intellectual history—indeed, for centuries, Western scholars have considered the Greek contribution to be fundamental. If the Babylonians got to epistemology before the Greeks, intellectual history will have to be entirely rewritten. Mieroop argues that they did, that the Babylonians had a developed theory of knowledge. But no one has discovered evidence of such, despite the hundreds of thousands of cuneiform tablets discovered since the mid-nineteenth century. So Mieroop’s thesis is quite ambitious. He offers several arguments in its support. The attempt is noble, but the conclusions are outrageous. This failure can only be attributed to an unimaginative method and an inexplicable ignorance of basic philosophical concepts. In these shortcomings, his work is an example of academia’s over-specialization and relativist groupthink.

Mieroop’s thesis has three major defects. First, he does not understand what epistemology is. Second, he overstates his case by failing to make a qualitative distinction between the rigorous Greek search for truth and Mesopotamian pre-philosophic learning. Third, he claims to disagree with earlier scholars’ assessments, but manages to reach to the same conclusions, albeit dressed up in cultural-relativist garb. This last defect, his cultural relativism, is the cause of the first two. Relativism prevents him from recognizing that the Greeks’ philosophical achievements were of higher quality. He magnifies the Babylonian intellectual achievement by a herculean effort at blurring categories, leading to his argument’s internal contradictions. Continue reading Babylonian Philosophy? Part 1