Every tribe of American whites has its Urheimat. The Urheimat or â€œproto-homeland” was, for decades, a key concept in Indo-European linguistics. It was always assumed that any group of related peoples had a common ancestral language, and a common, ancient homeland. Pinpointing these homelands absorbed a lot of time, effort and careers. Where was the Aryan Urheimat? Once the Aryans broke up, where did each of the linguistic sub-families evolve?
In recent decades, the Urheimat concept has taken a lot of flak. Scholars pointed out that the idea assumed that languages and peoples must have moved into their current lands–that they did not develop in situ. Spengler was one such sceptic. But here I must break with my Master. The Urheimat is a reasonable assumption. Plenty of examples exist on record. American Blacks have an Urheimat, so do Whites. Even the Amerindians, despite the SWPL bleating, are not autochthonous.
American Whites are the most interesting case, as usual. Because of our rich, intraracial diversity, white subgroups can be traced back to specific regions of Europe. This phenomenon is well documented for Anglos–apparently scholars can discern folkways that mark The Eternal Wessexer distinct from The Eternal Northumbrian, even 400 years after their migration to North America. But the phenomenon goes beyond them.
Europe is a patchwork of white Urheimats. Scandinavia is the proto-homeland of Upper Midwesterners. Germany is the Urheimat of Ohioans and Chicagoans. It is intuitive, then, that one would find proto-New Jersites in Sicily. The folkways are all there–the anger, the pugnacity, the sun-burned sweatiness. Riding a bus to Mt. Etna, I kept bursting out laughing. The driver was a typical guido–he kept shouting at passengers–at first I could not figure out why, because his dialect was as preposterous as that of his American cousins–but once I attuned my ear to it, I realized he stayed in this excitable mode no matter the circumstances. The British girl sitting next to me didnâ€™t get it. I gave up trying to explain. Iâ€™m here to save the White Race from being inundated by refugees, not to rescue the British character from its aboriginal defect.
The Angless was in an even more humorless mood than her kind are known for–it was Brexit Day. â€œIâ€™m not European anymore,â€ â€œAll educated people voted â€˜remain,â€™â€ â€œNigel Farage is a coont.â€ I donâ€™t really care about Brexit, it is a symbolic victory for us at best. But that did not stop me from gloating. I noted the classless nature of her accent. I showed her Nigel Farage memes. I wondered how I spoke more Italian than her–Iâ€™d been in country a week, she since November. I was scandalized that she did not know what ancient Mesopotamia was. I said all this aloud. Good thing Iâ€™m not â€œeducated.â€
I admit, I have always had an inferiority complex toward them. I admire their hauteur. I always felt the allure of their educational routine–the philology, the bloodsport, the hazing-by-persnicketry. Over the years I managed to acquire a grounding in each, but without ever developing anglophilia like the common cuck. The Germans are still way cooler.
The British wouldnâ€™t be so much of a problem if they just stayed in their Urheimat. Their Spirit is an especially dangerous one, as it combines the Faustian will-to-infinity and their own brand of cosmopolitan rootlessness. But the British have an even more effective means of spreading their spiritual corruption–The English language. Learning English is the single worst thing that can happen to a people. It strips a peopleâ€™s meme-complexes, leaving their minds utterly exposed to internationalist corruption. The commoner the knowledge of English, the more susceptible a people is to the POZ. The Nords have it the worst. The English and Germans are close behind. The Italians are, in large part, unaffected. The Anglo is not so much Eternal as he is expansive.
English is about as different as a language can be from Proto-Indo-European. The latter was â€œsynthetic,â€ mutating the endings of words to express grammatical relationships. English claims, in what is obviously a move to seize the terminological high-ground, to be â€œanalytic.â€ Where else have I seen that term used as the exclusive purview of the Eternal Anglo? But whatever. Synthetic languages are superior, and the British admit it. That is why they subjected generations of school boys to beatings for, say, using an ancient Greek verb in the perfect rather than the aorist.
Speaking English really gets me down. Every thought I have in this earthless medium drills into me, reminding me that I am torn from my Urheimat. And worse, like most Americans, I have more than one proto-homeland. My blood feels at home in Germany and Calabria (that backwater since the death of Pythagoras). I should speak Indo-European, or, failing that, Greek and Old High German. I have tried to remedy this by learning foreign languages. The problem is, due to my Faustian will-to-infinity, I want to learn all of them; and, due to my lack of a true Urheimat, I cannot prioritize one over the others. Maybe I am an Anglo after all.