#ALL OF MY PROGRESS AND COINS AND KEYS THAT ID SAVED UP

[waluigisgaybf]

JUST SAW A COMPILE OF ALL THE OUTFITS AND SPRITES FOR THE MODERN THE ARCANA STORY AND THEYRE FUCKING KILLING ME

I AM LOOSIJG MY MIND- I NEED TO GET MYSELF PLAYING AGAIN SO FUCKING BAD!!!!!!

[calextheneko]

Mario Maker 2 Self Promotion: Super World and Sky Tower Saga

So getting back into Mario Maker 2 and for those who don't know I freaking love Mario Maker. I currently have 80 levels uploaded in the second and forgot how many I have uploaded in the first. Never as many cause I never got enough likes to expand my upload pool in that one. Glad 2 through that mechanic in the trash.

Anyway, this post is just to blow my horn and talk about some of my favorite levels I've made. I'm far from the best or most popular level designer but I do put my heart into them! If any strike your fancy it means the world to me if you play them! So let's go on.

First off if you want to find me and pull up all my levels

Creator ID: GKP-1RT-HNG

Can use that to pull up my profile. If you see the name Calex and my little guy wearing the cat suit you got the right one!

So first up, my Super World found on my profile.

This follows basic 8 world progression, made in the Super Mario world style. I did my best to make it feel like a Mario game while adding in some unique twists. Worlds 1-6 have four stages including a boss stage, and world 7 and 8 have 5 levels including boss stages. I try to stay true to form with fighting the Koopalings and progressing but giving them unique mechanics or battlefields to fight on to freshen the fights up.

The levels start on the super easy side as I've attempted to scale the difficulty up as you progress through the worlds. I'd say world 7 is where you notice a big bump up.

I recently redid the final level of it 8-5: Seat of the King. Mainly, while I liked the original version the boss fight with Bowser took way too long. I wish they had a way to adjust his HP. So I updated it so Bowser will get damaged much, MUCH more quickly, as well as adding in a couple secrets that can let you skip round 1 with him. It's not nearly as hard, but I'll take fun over difficult any day of the week.

Most of the levels I'm proud of are later in the games as I made them more complex as part of turning the difficulty up. 7-1: Blast Off! might be my favorite of the set. As for hardest, for me personally I think 8-4: The Koopaling's Last Dance! As it contains rematches with each Koopaling that you fought throughout the game and then a fight with Bowser Jr. I put two checkpoint flags right on either side of a pipe for this one so you can reactivate them any time you want to save your progress in this level.

I could gush about each level but there are 40 of them total in the Superworld so going to move on so we're not here all day.

Sky Tower Saga

Sky Tower Saga is a series of levels I made back before the game had Super Worlds using the Mario 3 layout. Sky Tower Saga contains much more and often difficult twists on its boss fights and each of the levels has its own boss.

Sky Tower Saga is a five level collection that basically tells the story of Mario's journey to Sky Tower after it mysteriously appears in well, the sky, and his effort to stop Bowser from seizing the tower's strange powers for himself.

Sky Tower Saga Part 1: Journey

Course ID: 402-DQ9-LSG

Journey has you start in a winter themed level, as you platform your way along before reaching the Tower's entrance. Once inside you climb the first few floors before facing Boom Boom. This level is the only completely normal boss fight in the series, as it serves as a warmup level before you enter the tower proper. So Boom Boom has no mechanics. There is sadly a Soft Lock in it, there's an area you can go down under after hitting a P Switch and find a 1-up. But if you don't have the Super Leaf then it's not possible to get back up and eventually you die once the P-Switch runs out.

Sky Tower Saga Part 2: Ascent

Course ID: 1DT-J87-6RF

Ascent where the series starts using vertical levels as you climb higher and higher into the Tower. This level also has far more secrets in it than the first, including eight key coins that if you gather you can unlock a special bonus door right before the boss fight. You can also use the key to skip the boss fight if you want, but kind of ruins the fun. Up to you if you want to get through faster or if you want to fight it! Whatever you feel like! But the fact the boss can be skipped is why I later stopped using red coins in boss stages to prevent that. I just like putting in secrets for people to find. XD I feel it makes things more fun.

Anyway, this time the boss fight is against a Flying Boom Boom but now we start to have new mechanics introduced. This fight has a time limit beyond the actual course timer. As the fight continues one of the walls will closely close in giving you less and less room to move around in. You need to defeat Boom Boom and unlock the exit door before the wall closes in completely and squashes you flat. I left the timer very generous.

I designed it by using a Bill Blaster as the wall. It doesn't shoot anything, but I put it on a conveyor belt that tries to carry it right. However there are switch blocks in the way blocking its progress. Below it is a shell that is fired onto a conveyor belt that tries to carry it right but the shell is shot left making it travel very slowly. At the end of it is a Switch Block. So each time it hits the block the Bill Blaster is released from a switch block and moves right. Meanwhile the shell is quickly delivered back to where it started before bouncing and slowly moving towards the switch again. During the fight you can see it moving so you can see exactly how much time you have before the wall moves again.

Sky Tower Saga Part 3 Secret

Course ID: K47-5M0-5RG

Sky Tower stretches so high into the sky you start to leave the atmosphere. As a result any time you are physically climbing the outside of the tower there will be less gravity. Thankfully it seems the Mushroom Kingdom invented artificial gravity so inside you're fine.

Once again we have red coins to unlock a secret room as you travel up. And once again it can be used to skip the boss fight if wanted. But surprise twist! There are two boss fights! More on that in a second.

Secret introduces something important in the form of the three Fire Orbs with wings that will be seen again. These are used to represent an entity called Tower Soul who will be a problem in a later stage, but for this one you just get a glimpse of them. Meanwhile, the challenge takes in the form of scaling the place while managing the lowered gravity. There is also a snake block to ride, but don't worry there's a two-way pipe right before it so you can exit and re-enter if you fall off and need to respawn it.

As for the fights. It's Bowser Jr with a round 1 and a round 2 against him. The first round is simple, some Throwmps slam down activating an on and off switch which drops Bowser Jr and two red Bill Blasters into the room. You have to hit Bowser three times while dodging homing Bullet Bills and you're done. But round 2 things kick up a bit. Bowser Jr is now protected in the safety of the Tower and you must fight him while dealing with the Tower's defenses. Your only platform is a seesaw that goes up and down but this is to your benefit once you realize what you need to do. You need to jump on Koopa Troopas and then shoot their shell into a small hole where they'll travel down and hit Bowser Jr. If you stand on the left side of the seesaw it will form a perfect ramp that you can slide the shell along right into the hole instead of having to jump into the air and fire it. While you continue to fight the tower will release other defenses including buzz saws so watch yourself as you take it down. This fight is good training for a future fight that's a much bigger problem.

Sky Tower Part 4: Apex

Course ID: W7B-R7W-XKG

Finally you reach the apex of the tower. But as you reach the top, you will find none other waiting for you than Bowser! Charged up with the Tower Soul the entire Tower is now at his command as he attempts to destroy you!

Once again, up in space so low gravity when climbing the exterior of the tower, but most of the platforming takes place in the interior as you climb up the last few floors. Beware of Bullet Bills as they'll be a constant threat when you climb. When you have to charge forward towards a Bill Blaster remember to look for holes in the area you can jump or duck in to dodge the bullets. Also, as you navigate flying beetles and other surprises there might be a chance to grab an unintended upgrade along the way.

Apex is where the red coins stop as I realized I was undermining the levels, as well as this is where you face a much bigger threat for the boss. Bowser himself is the boss fight this time. When you finally make your way up to him, the arena will look familiar. You fight Bowser in the same was as you did in Mario 3, but with a slightly simplified arena. Naturally a you can guess from the previous fight this is just a warmup for the real fight.

Grab the Fire Flower after round 1, it will make your life much easier, I promise. For fight 2, you'll be facing Bowser in a Fire Car, but you have a Fire Car of your own. If you grabbed the Fire Flower you shoot three fireballs instead of one which will make things much easier. Dodge Bowser's attacks and take him out with your own fireballs to proceed forward! However, Bowser is probably the smallest worry you'll have at the moment. The Tower Soul will be seen flying around the map damaging you if it impacts you, as well as there are tons of cannon balls being fired. Navigate the maze of obstacles carefully as you fight Bowser and finally finish off the fight... Except, not quite. At the end of the level you'll see though Bowser is gone, Tower Soul remains.

Sky Tower Saga Finale: Soul

Course ID: 5S2-81B-XGF

It's the final level. With Bowser defeated Tower Soul has gone berserk. If the tower is left unchecked its destruction power will spread to the Mushroom Kingdom. Are you ready to fight an entire freaking tower? Cause you're fighting an entire tower. Or at least the heart of it.

This is a boss stage, no platforming to get here. Instead, you get some power ups and then are instantly thrown into a battle with Tower Soul. That's right, the final boss is a completely original thing instead of being Bowser again! I know it turns out I am capable of originality at times!

Now then...This is what the Bowser Jr fight earlier was practice for. You will see the Tower Soul inside a huge contraptions once you step into the heart of the tower. The ticket is once again to kick shells into a small opening so that it can damage the tower. But it's going to be much harder this time. There's no ramp you can shoot it up through. Now you'll need to either throw the shells from the air, jump up to the hole or time it perfectly off a moving platform to get a hit in. Each time you land a successful hit you'll see the tower start to fall apart as bricks fall from overheard.

This fight took a long time to design and went through a lot of versions. First I had to get it to actually work so that you could get a key for defeating a thing the game doesn't regard as an actual entity. I hit an enemy that's never visible on screen but is killed right after you land your final hit on Tower Soul. That enemy holds the key so that's how I made it look like defeating Tower Soul gives you the key. After I got this working though the fight was too insanely hard. So believe it or not this is the tuned down version of it. Keep aware of the threats around you and practice your timing with shells until you earn victory.

But the level isn't over yet. The Tower Soul flees as the entire tower begins to collapse. It's time for a Metroid this place is gonna explode escape sequence with some fun music. But, how do you escape Sky Tower? Well... You'll see when you get there. Defeating Tower Soul is the hard part the rest of the level is super easy and I don't want to spoil the fun of what's happening.

Anyway that's stuff about my Super World and Sky Tower. I may post more of these with other levels I worked on and their course IDs as it goes on. We'll see how it goes. Will also be trying to come up with some new level ideas cause the itch to make levels is bugging me like crazy now. Thanks for taking the time to listen to me rant, and super special thanks to anyone who plays any of the levels too!

[void-knights]

The Arcana Review* Edited!

[ID: Banner image featuring the text "The Arcana Review" along the bottom. In the background images of the six romanceable characters in this game.] (TL;DR at the end)

So it has been a while since I have written a review about a game. However, "The Arcana" had been recommended to me so many times, I finally decided to try it out. This is just my opinion, of the game. [Edit 1. It has been brought to my attention that all my issues could be fixed by modding the game. Yes. Yes it could. But I do not like these sorts of workarounds because these sorts of workarounds should not have to exist.] Pro: ✔ The Art is incredible, it's such a pleasing and cohesive style. ✔ The music is wonderful. ✔ The writing is good, I do truly love the world that they have built and the characters living within the world. ✔ The theme of the Tarot Cards is wonderful, it's not just a one-off gimmick like I had assumed it would be. ✔ Choose your own pronouns, She/Her, He/Him, They/Them. ✔ LGBT romances. ✔ Free to play Cons:

❌ Gambling mechanics exist in this game for you to earn premium currencies. Wish somebody had warned me (an addict) about that in this "visual novel". ❌ The cost of the premium currencies (keys and coins) of this game ❌ The sheer time investment if you cannot afford to pay. ❌ The fact that you have to watch thirty-second plus advertisements to get 50 coins (which isn't a lot). ❌ If you can't pay the price of the currencies or have watched five advertisements for 250 gold coins (which isn't much) and have used up all your keys for the day (yes twenty-four hours) then you either have to wait until the next day OR hope that Nix Hydra (the company) is doing a special social media event for you to earn even more coins/keys.

The company in response to other people's complaints (reviews on Google Play Store) actually suggests looking on their social media for these special events or doing "daily events" which is gambling. Which as an addict is not good!

I need to point out how expensive this game is! It infuriates me!

I am more used to visual novels that I can pay a flat rate for. I pay £20 and I get the complete the story, maybe there will be paid DLC for a further £5 but even then that is fucking cheaper and less time-consuming than this game. Unless you are willing to spend obscene amounts of money you cannot sit down with this visual novel/game and play through an entire romance route in one day. You cannot play it on your time, you have to wait if you cannot pay. To give an example: I played Lucio's route. To unlock "Special events" that I thought were just standard romance moments between you and the character in these types of visual novels you can pay anywhere between 150-275 coins per event. I calculated the cost of Lucio's route (only his route there are six routes each with a good/bad ending) and his two endings. (This does not include paid bonus content and additional content. Just the main story romance story route) 6975 gold coins. For one route. One character. Once you paid for it you have it. To "Save money" you can "buy a book" (which is essentially a chapter of this story) for 350 gold coins, that permanently unlock that book. This means you spend 4900 gold coins to permanently unlock all the chapters of this story. (This rate do not include the ending, but I cannot afford to pay for keys, so I am waiting for more free keys. I do not know if you need to pay anything in the endings.) But what does that mean? To put in context, if you do buy gold coins, you would have to pay for a bundle of coins.

7500 coins would cost me £93.99 3000 coins would cost me £35.99 1500 coins would cost me £18.49 750 coins would cost me £8.99 375 coins would cost me £4.59 150 coins would cost me £1.79 This is for one character. There are six characters. Six. On top of that, you get (I assume) 3 free keys in a 24-hour period by waiting 3 hours for each key to be given to you. You might get more in a 24-hour period. I don't know. But you need a key to unlock a "book" and yes you can buy keys with money. 5 keys would cost me £1.59 14 keys would cost me £4.29 30 keys would cost me £8.49 65 keys would cost me £16.99 If you want to unlock all the books at once, you would need to buy the 14 key package. All the keys do is let you progress the story. But once you have read through a route, I believe you can go back and re-read it for free. So no, you do not have to spend that money again if you want to re-read the character route. So let us say I buy 5250 gold coins plus the 14 keys that would cost me £67.76. For one character route, if I want to unlock all the romantic moments/memories. Otherwise, I can just plough through with the basic bare-bones romance. I did actually pay for 1500 gold coins to unlock some of these romantic moments, and they are significantly better than the free stuff. I would have to spend in excess of £400 to unlock all the character routes in their complete form, If i wished to experience this game like a visual novel and read over the weekend. OR I could wait for those 5 adverts to return, earning 250 gold coins for the cost of maybe 3 minutes of my time and wait 3 hours for each new key or hope that Nix Hydra is doing a sale on keys/coins. To put this in context, I was also recently recommended "When the Night Comes" by Lunaris Games. While I prefer the art of "The Arcana" When the Night Comes allows me to play a complete game. I paid £9.47 (the base rate, you can offer to pay more if you wish) for a complete story which included bonus side stories. As for the gambling mechanics THAT NOBODY WARNED ME ABOUT!!! Though I should have expected it from a free game, I never expected to see it in a visual novel! It just pisses me off that so many people recommended this game. It truly is a good story/characters/world and I love Lucio. But fuck! Don't give me that "You don't have to spend money" crap. I know that. But do you seriously expect people to invest so much time and wait just to unlock the next chapter of a story?!!!

[Edit 2. So I time travelled! I do not know if this affected the outcome for my daily 'spin the wheel' results. But it took me almost three months to collect enough free coins. You earn the least amount I think 70 coins on day 1 and 240 coins on day 7 after day 7 it resets to 1. It took me over 2 months to collect enough coins to permanantly unlock all of Lucio's chapters. Including the coins I bought with actual money. You also earn 1 key every three hours. So yeah.] TL;DR | No I do not recommend this game. Fuck this expensive shit. Great art, story and characters though.

[u-gemini-login]

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         The UI for Gemini account is amazingly simple that draws in both progressed and amateur financial backers.

         It opens up the getting to entryway to a greater commercial center alongside making buys fast and simple.

Are there any destructions of Gemini Login?

Two explicit focuses have been noted under the cons of this remarkable digital currency trade stage:

         When firmly observed, Gemini login account holders need to pay a lot higher expenses in contrast with the market costs.

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End

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[wisherbysharlight]

YOOOOOOO MY FREN........ THAT TROPEY BEACH AU IS GIVING ME L I F E RIGHY NOW!!!!! id love to hear some of the other LAMP scenes you mentioned...... as well as any angst you didn't include............ 👀

HELLO NEW FREN HERES 1.5k WORDS OF CREATIVITWINS BEACH AU ANGST WITH BONUS EPILOGUE TO SOFTEN THE BLOW

Tw for not exactly abusive parenting? Just kinda toxic. -Roman has known since he was 3 that his parents expected a lot from him Sit up straight and be polite and be nice to Mommy and Daddy's friends and we'll let you play on the beach later 

  -Remus always had the same expectations, but to a lesser degree. Roman was already the Golden Child after all, an 'heir and a spare' and all that nonsense But if Roman was good, then they got to go to the beach, and Remus liked the beach too, so he put up with being Slightly Worse so his brother would look even better 

   -Their roles solidified when Roman woke up to Remus sitting straight up in bed, white as a sheet, and turning to him with haunted eyes. Remus couldn't talk, that night. But his parents did take him to talk to a really nice lady named Ms. Picani((yes i AM making emile a legacy therapist)) who taught him that many people are subjected to nasty thoughts but that doesn't mean they were bad 

Their parents called him imaginative. Remus felt like it sounded like a curse next to when they called Roman creative

-So Remus and Roman both wore a mask. Roman pretended to give a shit about meetings and mergers and getting a law degree and taking over for his parents. Remus pretended it didn't hurt when they told him he could be "whatever he wanted" but laughed when he said CEO

Remus didn't think his parents even know the dichotomy they created. Roman was bitterly sure that they did. They clung closer to each other, spending every spare hour out on the water, their surfing prowess unquestionably on the same level and keeping them from turning on each other

-Remus quietly helped Roman stay awake in school when he stayed out all night sitting and waiting for the perfect waves to catch. Roman quietly fed Remus the information he learned when their dad had him sit in on "man to man" chats with other leaders.

-When they turn 14 they both tell their parents in no uncertain terms that they will absolutely be working at uncle Thomas' restaurant like Remy did when he turned 14, thank you very much. Their parents think it's a good lesson in responsibility. The twins think its a great reason to get out of the damn house.

-They drag their friends along with them. Virgil becomes a junior lifeguard with a passion Roman had yet to see in him, watching over everyone like a hawk. Logan gets to read under an umbrella. Patton is charming as hell as a bus boy and he and the twins quickly become waiters despite technically being too young(they just can't carry the alcohol for two years)

-There's still stuffy dinners that alternate with nights alone just the two of them in the house as their parents jet set around the world, but now they have somewhere to be every single day Thomas Actively encourages them to use the private beach for surfing when they have time off, and they love it because they can just grab their boards on their lunch breaks and go

-It is out on these lunch break surf and chats that a plan falls into place, as it normally does, when Remus just says the first thing that comes to his mind Roman knows what he wants now, and so does Remus, and who better to get it than the Creativitwins(coined by Patton, LOVED by the twins)

-By the time the Main Timeline happens(when they're all 18) the brothers have Solidified the plan 

They've both enrolled at the same elite school(much to their parent's condescending surprise, seeing as how Remus' grades are actually better than Roman's), both majoring in business, but they swap majors without telling their parents. Remus takes Entrepreneurship and Business Analytics, and minors in pre-law, and Roman takes Management.

-Roman knows, deep down, that once the jig is up he might lose all the money they put away for him. So, when he sees that there's an amateur competition on the island with enough prize money to get them both through at least a few semesters of school he leaps at it

-He trains Non Stop. He hasn't told LAM about the plan and they get super duper concerned about him 

-Thomas and Roman end up in a screaming match because Roman is clearly not sleeping and when Remus can't get through to him he sends Thomas and tells Roman he’ll handle their parents

This is when it comes out that Thomas is living Roman's dream that he feels he doesn't deserve, feels like he's failed as the Golden Child and hasn't earned the right to go after what he truly wants

At the Same Time Remus has shown up in Roman's place to a Very Important Dinner because he knows its just time to let the cat out of the bag. His father pulls him aside and tells him that he cannot afford any "outbursts" and that this is a "very serious meeting". Remus gives a sickly sweet grin and goes in anyway, smoothly makes rounds to say hello to all the customers who come to the resort and is joking and laughing with three of them within 15 minutes. His father is so taken aback he actually doesn't hear one of his other colleagues ask if he's alright.

Janus shows up to back him up about 30 minutes in and Remus brings him around to introduce, and the two of them charm the pants off of the few people they hadn't met yet, forcing the Twin's parents to confront their own biases against their son. Roman turns his phone off so he won't see his father calling. Him Remy and Thomas are having a disney marathon, anyway

-Roman doesnt go home til morning. When he gets there, both his parents are sitting at the table with Remus. They all have tears in their eyes and look like theyve been there all night. He'd gotten the text from Janus when he turned his phone on, knew that it had gone well, or he'd be genuinely concerned. The first thing his father says is, "We're sorry"

They have a discussion, and it feels a little bit like the business discussions he always sits in on, slightly stiff and with everyone still not really comfortable with each other, but at the end his mother hugs him for the first time in what feels like years and tells him she's proud that he worked so hard towards what he really wanted, and that he reminds her of herself at his age trying to break into the business world, and he cant truthfully say that isn't the best thing he's ever heard in his life

-Their parents arent perfect. Remus will say something slightly off kilter and they will visibly wince before they can correct themselves. Their mother will still attempt to baby Remus and put Roman on a pedestal. Their father will still turn to Roman for his opinion before Remus. They both pitch a fit when Roman insists on transferring to a local school to save money. But there's progress made.

-And on the day of the competition, Thomas comes up to Roman when he stops by the restaurant to get Luck with a key on a lanyard that says "Thomas Sanders Beach Emporium - Surf and Swim Shop". He'd purchased the small surf shop next to the resort from a local who'd wanted to move inland. 

"Ro, I know you still want to go to college and that's fine. But know you are the only one I want running this, even if I have to wait." 

Roman bursts into tears IMMEDIATELY and Patton has to hug him for like a full 20 minutes to calm him down

-And then, as we all know, THEY WIN THE COMPETITION. And they don't need the money for college anymore, so they take it and give it all directly to Thomas for the shop, and the twins own it together but Roman runs it while Remus is off being one half of the Ultimate Power Couple on the mainlaind

And Now That You’ve Survived the Angst Train, here’s EPILOGUE

-Roman takes over the surf shop as soon as he graduates, of course. 

-Patton becomes a Divemaster/Ocean Archeaologist and gets to spend all his time in the water 

-Logan becomes an Oceanographer who creates super detailed and beautiful diagrams 

-Virgil becomes a marine biologist specializing in rescue and release and they buy a house across the street from the restaurant

-Remy takes over the restaurant and Emile opens a practice right on the island and Remile live in the apartment above the restaurant

-Dukeceit move inland towards the city so Remus can get his MBA and Janus can have some Night Noise and Janus gets his law degree and they are a Power Couple 

But they always take at least a month where they are either off or working remotely and rent a house on the same block as Remile and LAMP and surf and hang out at the restaurant and beach and relive that One Summer Of Pure Happiness and Freedom

[dherzogblog]

songs/17

Hey everyone. Welcome back. In a break with tradition I expanded this year’s playlist well beyond the 80 minute limit of a CD.  in addition, and let’s be honest here, I did have some extra time on my hands to listen to music in 2017. So for your listening (and reading ) pleasure I present 1 hour and 50 minutes of the good stuff from the past year. I know, I know, it’s a lot. So is this blog for anyone who actually tries to read it. I’ll promise to try and get it back under control next year, but in the meantime…. enjoy! PS- Click on the bold type below for the music, extras and surprises.

Ride with Me- The Mavericks My theme song for 2017. This year was all about travel and figuring out what I was going to when I grow up. I checked ALL the boxes on the travel end, while the latter remains a work in progress. As the year began and I found myself “unencumbered”, I literally told Noreen to keep her bags packed. A few weeks later the always dependable Mavericks echoed my thoughts with this tune singing: “I gotta go… a whole world to see. So pack your bags up baby, Come along and ride with me “. And ride we did. From Havana to The Grand Canyon, Tokyo to Tel Aviv,  Motown to Muscle Shoals and many places in between, It was trains, planes, and automobile’s across thousands of miles with Noreen and as well as some good friends. It was nothing but good times, and I was so grateful for the opportunity.

No Particular Place To Go- Chuck Berry In 1973 a concert film entitled “Let The Good Times Roll” was released. It was a document of the then popular Richard Nader Rock & Roll revival shows that filled Madison Square Garden regularly. The film featured performances by Bo Diddley, Little Richard, Fats Domino, The Shirelles, and Chuck Berry. It was an era of great popularity for the vintage rock sounds of the 50′s. American Graffiti, Happy Days, Sha Na Na, and even The Beach Boys had helped usher in a “oldies” music revival. It was “retro” and” throwback” before  anyone coined those terms. And it proved that music that was once considered disposable as well as the exclusive domain of pimply teenagers had true enduring appeal. At the time Chuck Berry was riding the wave of his somewhat regrettable “My Ding A Long” novelty single. That song, as well as the 50’s/60’s revival in general is probably what got my 12 year old self into the theater. It was incredible to watch Little Richard climb all over the stage in a frenzy, his androgynous image predating Bowie, and his frenzied stage antics providing a blue print for Prince. Then there was Bo Diddley all in black, strutting the stage with his signature guitar chugging like a freight train, and Chuck Berry duck walking the crowd into a frenzy, it all had me mesmerized. Upon seeing the film, I was so blown away I went back to see it a second time just days later. It was the only way to see it again back then. The acts were all well past their prime and were considered mere “oldies” acts at the time. Berry was not yet 50. (He wouldn’t have been old enough to play Desert Trip) For me, it was a crash course in rock history helping me understand and process almost everything I heard after.

Champagne Corolla- Justin Townes Earle More Songs About Cars And Girls. JTE covers a lot of ground on this outing. He’s 8 albums into his career, and stepping out of the long shadow of his father. 

How to Boil An Egg- Courtney Barnett One off single from Australian singer songwriter making her return to the list. More messy, jangly musings on Millenial angst. She returned later in the year with a full length album with in partnership with Kurt Vile.

On The Rock- Bash & Pop Speaking of jangly and messy, Replacement Tommy Stinson delivers one of my favorite songs of the year. Good fun.

Bad Art and Weirdo Ideas (Quiet Slang)- Beach Slang The original version of this song appeared on the songs/15 list. James Alex the band’s leader starting touring under the moniker Quiet Slang last year. This EP contains some remakes as well as covers recorded in a “Quiet Slang” setting that includes strings. I loved this song the first time around, and even more so now.

Slow Me Down- Jess Ware  This year’s model. Yet another of the UK’s seemingly endless supply of soulful female vocalists. I love a good torch ballad.

Brand New Me- Aretha Franklin and The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra I’m normally suspect of these types of projects. Too gimmicky. Messing with these seminal records borders on sacrilege, But it being Lady Soul, along with some of my very favorite songs I gave a listen. Pairing classic Aretha vocals with brand new backing from London’s Royal Philharmonic Orchestra  these reboots seem to reach for something else. Imagine them as part of an Aretha Franklin Broadway jukebox musical or the lush soundtrack to an Aretha biopic.  And while this particular cut doesn’t have the low key swing of the original, it does have it’s own big, brassy charm. Cinematic orchestration aside, these Aretha vocals remain stone cold classics in any settings. 

At The Breaking Point- Zeshan B Remarkable debut from an Indian Muslim soul singer out of Chicago. The album, recorded in Memphis, is a mixture of obscure R&B , and retro feel originals expertly capturing a mid sixties soul vibe. Sung in three different languages , including Punjabi, the disc also features a great rendition of George Perkins Civil rights song “Cryin In The Streets”

Feeling Alive- Earl St. Clair This young man from Alabama delivers a positive and upbeat message in a modern R&B setting. Plus, I am totally down with the sentiment: “My friends say I should live a little, gotta say yes more”. From his gospel influenced singing to the fiddle heard near the end, their are echos of the deep south felt throughout.

Sweet Love- Wizkid Slinky exotic riddims from this Nigerian hip hop artist

Skin and Bone- Phil Cook I don’t know much about this guy. From north Carolina by way of Wisconsin. His previous record (this was a one off single) was mostly performed in an acoustic country blues/gospel vein. This track reminds me of a late era Sly Stone groove meeting conscious hip hop. The message is right on time, so “clap your hands”.

Birds Of A Feather, We Rock Together- Vulfpeck Vulpeck are back with all their funky, eclectic, quirky charm intact. You not be be able to get the title refrain out of your head after hearing it once. 

Brutal- the Expanders “Man say it brutal out deh”. Perfect description for the world at large in 2017. This Southern California unit specializes in rekindling the spirit of 70’s roots reggae, specifically the unique sounds of the eras classic vocal trios. This is a faithful remake of the Itals track from 1981. Original Ital Ronnie Davis died earlier this year. 

Ladies Nite- Bootsy Collins It’s ladies night in America folks. Bootsy always knows what time it is. O.G.Funk style.

My Old School- Steely Dan (Walter Becker) When I got to college in the fall of 1977, Steely Dan’s Aja was just about to hit record shops. It was an immediate smash upon being released. Prior to that release I knew their pop hits, but not the LP’s to a large degree. I really loved Aja. I was a big jazz funk fan and it had a lot of that influence. Later that school year, during the blizzard of 78, I have vivid memories of that record blasting from nearly every dorm room stereo and radio as we were cooped up for days on end. My next door neighbor in the dorm (from Worcester/“"Woostah" Mass) was a true Steely Dan fanatic. He considered Aja a bit of a sell out on their part.  He insisted I listen to the 5 albums in their catalogue that proceeded it. So I did, borrowing from his collection one LP at a time. I liked them all, especially the magnificent Katy Lied. But the song that always stayed with me was My Old School. A funky (and and not a bit bitter) anthem with a blast of horns straight from E Street topped off with an unforgettable sing a long chorus. As of this printing the Becker estate is now suing Fagen. California might fall into the sea just yet, and but no one is gong back to their old school.

Heart Of The City- Los Straitjackets In 17 years I’m not sure I’ve ever included a rock instrumental. Los Straitjackets remain the premier purveyors of that long forgotten genre. On their latest the band tackle’s the great Nick Lowe’s canon. Super rockin fun all the way through.

Jackpot- Nikki Lane Stylish Nashville rebel with a great voice, rolls the dice and comes with a twangy and rocking winner

A Little Pain- Margo Price A slice of country soul heaven from alt country’s it girl.

Living In The City- Hurray For The Riff Raff On her latest outing band leader Alynda Lee Segarra embraces her Bronx bred Hispanic roots moving ever so slightly away from the alt country sound of previous albums. This track splits the difference nicely. 

Here Comes My Girl- Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers I vividly remember both the first time I saw Tom Petty perform, as well as the last time. The first was in Madison Square Garden as part of a tremendous line up at one of The No Nukes Shows headlined by Bruce Springsteen. The under card was pretty strong that night. Bonnie Raitt, Peter Tosh, and Gil Scott- Heron. I was a fan of all the acts and had seen them all play live, save Petty. I was not sure what to expect from Petty that night. At that time he had three songs garnering airplay and scratching the Top 40. There was the Byrds like “American Girl”, the AOR ready “Breakdown”, and the taught, urgent energy of  “I Need to Know”. That track had me wondering if The Heartbreakers might just be another skinny tie band. In addition there was the slight confusion because punk rocker Johnny Thunders band was also named The Heartbreakers . So I wasn’t exactly sure what I was about to see. His short dispelled any notions of a the act being new wave flash in the pan. It was clear Petty was more straight ahead rock classicist. The release of Damn The Torpedoes just a few weeks later would confirm that. Petty had arrived and was thrust onto the charts and into the big leagues. I was never a huge fan. I loved the best albums and ignored the others. I never found him a great live performer, but always left his shows happy. The songs were great and the band was top notch. Somehow despite his nuanced low key approach he became an unlikely MTV video star. He made continually great clips and they dominated the channel. Despite that, he never did promotions and contests, was rarely interviewed, and his managers did not work us nearly as much as his superstar peers. He toured regularly and always seemed to have a clip in rotation. He was the every man rock star, not bigger than life, not overly political, just writing great songs, hanging with The Wilbury’s and doing his thing. It felt like he was was always there, but he never was. A huge star, yet somehow in the shadows. Hence I rarely ever came face to face. My one memory is standing on stage at Live Aid next to him, and then Heartbreaker drummer Stan Lynch as they waited like anxious school boys to see the reunited Led Zeppelin. They could not have been more excited, anxiously awaiting the set to begin. The band hit the stage and started too play. It was a disaster, just awful. Half way through the second song Petty threw Lynch a sour look. In a flash they were gone, back to the artist compound. They could not bear to watch. I saw Petty perform for the last time just ten days before he passed. I was in the first row at The Hollywood Bowl. Early on I remarked to my wife “He doesn’t look good” (although truthfully, did he ever?). His energy seemed good, and his demeanor upbeat, but he was pasty and wan. He stumbled crossing the stage a few times, took some quiet puff of a cigarette hidden on the drum riser. And he was doing a weird thing with his mouth/lips/teeth. But honestly my reaction was not unlike running into a friend you haven’t seen in a bit where they did not look their best. Like everyone else, I was shocked when I heard the news. When all is said and done for me, it was the songs. Lyrics clear and concise, monster melodic hooks, classic influences and great production.  Petty had a chip on his shoulder for sure, but it fueled the hope, ambition, and longing in his best songs and allowed him to achieve pop perfection over and over.

Gentle On My Mind- Glen Campbell 1968. I listened to what ever WABC played on the radio. Around that time there were three sappy and saccharine pop hits that always managed to make my cynicism free, nine year old heart ache with melancholy. The country soul of “O.C Smith’s. “Little Green Apples”, the maudlin mush of Bobby Goldsboro’s “Honey”, and the gorgeous,”Gentle on My Mind”. 1968 turned dark quickly with the assassination of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, the simmering controversy around the Vietnam War, and a divisive presidential election. The bright sunlight of The Summer Of Love disappeared as quickly, as did this type of 60′s pop (and psychedelia for that matter). Campbell continued to write mainstream and country hits, star in his own prime tine TV series (”Hello, I’m Glen Campbell!”), and later become tabloid fodder with his drama and drug fueled marriage to country bad girl Tanya Tucker. All of this conspiring to obscure the fact that he was a truly a tremendous songwriter and performer. I was moved recently watching the heartbreaking documentary “I’ll Be Me” which chronicles his battle with Alzhiemers on his final tour. Its well worth a watch and adds to the story of this somewhat overlooked legend.

Tupelo- Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit Beautiful ballad from the ex Drive By Trucker. A great album overall as well.

Transformation- Van Morrison If this sounds familiar, that’s probably the point. This track echoes back to Van’s great mid 70′s albums. It’’s smothered in enough tupelo honey, crazy love and  celtic soul to turn on your electric light and send you into the mystic. I’m gonna guess you’re all ok with that.

Midnight Rider- Allman Brothers Band  (Greg Allman) CLICK HERE for my earlier Greg Allman post (REVISED AND UPDATED)

Find Yourself- Lukas Nelson and The Promise of The Real Willie’s son and band fresh off the road deliver a promising set. This southern soul track recalls classic’s like William Bell’s “I Forgot to Be Your Lover”, and Delaney and Bonnie’s version of “Everybody Loves A Winner. That plus the pedigree gets my interest. Willie clearly raised him right.

 What Would I Do- Lizz Wright The elegant and soulful Lizz Wright delivers plenty of grace on her latest set of well chosen covers like this Ray Charles gem.

Have You Heard Anything From The Lord Today- Cody Chestnutt Elusive and genre hopping Cody Chestnutt returns with only his fifth album in over 15 years.  Better known within the industry than out, he always delivers something interesting. This time it’s a little bit of a little bit of faith.

Not Dark Yet- Shelby Lynne& Alison Moorer Two of country’s finest voices, and sisters, finally team up for an entire album. This is one of my very favorite latter day Dylan tunes, and they sing it beautifully. I was haunted by their version the very first time I heard it and have played it quite a bit since. I’ve always interpreted the lyrics to be the final reflections of someone getting ready to meet their maker. As 2017 brought some very tough days, there were times I couldn’t help thinking of it as a reflection of the state of our union and the planet. “It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there” I thought to myself once too often. Here’s to a better 2018. Here’s the whole thing on Spotify: songs/17 The Herzogs wish you and all of yours the very best. Look forward to seeing you in the new year. xo dh Los Angeles, December 2017

[beholdthewatcher]

Statement #01202003a

A continuation of The Cullenfield Incident, regarding the events of 20 March, 2020. Statement recorded by subject, 21 March, 2020.

Archivist’s note: This report has been split into parts for the sake of readability and due the sheer volume of information gathered in the span of the two consecutive days they concern. See Statement #01202003b for further information.

The second day of my…well, I suppose I should say our investigation began with my being woken up due to the sound of Marcus’ footsteps as he got ready for the day barely a few hours after falling asleep--our investigation the day before had taken us well into the following morning. Being that I am already a somewhat early riser, assuming I sleep at all, it was something of an interesting change.

After taking the time to render ourselves passably awake, we went to the local coffee shop, Coffee, to acquire breakfast. The streets were somber, and even for this early in the morning, there was a strange near-lack of traffic of any sort on the streets; I counted only three cars en-route to our destination, and only eight people in the shop itself once we’d arrived. Even yesterday at a similar time, there were quite a few more people than that. The overall air seemed disquieted as well, and it was with a rather slow-growing but certain dread in my stomach that I spilled my sleep-weary self into a booth and asked Marcus to order food from the bleary-eyed barista at the counter.

I only learned Erica’s name once she was dead. It’s…silly, I suppose, but I will admit a small amount of regret for not asking for it the day before, when she was telling me of the town; I very well might have been one of the last people to have a conversation with her.

I intend to remember her as best I can, at any rate. While I know the probability of Marcus and I finding all five coins in the span of a day was likely on the verge of microscopic, I still feel as though I might’ve saved her, somehow. Living in memory is better than total death, I suppose.

At any rate, it became clear that two deaths in as many days had taken the town from talking of strange occurrences to fearing for the safety of their families and friends. Sharing my findings and thoughts with Marcus, we agreed to split up to cover more ground on our search: I was to head to the nearest branch of the Apex Timber Company [hereafter referred to as ATC] to see if I could locate where the rest of the wood from this tree went, while Marcus was to head to the latest crime scene to see if he could discern anything regarding where her coin might have ended up. Given Marcus’ reticence towards motor vehicles and my own feelings regarding Erica, this split made plenty of sense.

After finishing breakfast, wishing Marcus luck, and quickly looking up the directions to the closest branch of the ATC, I picked up my motorcycle from the safehouse and drove out that way. 

It was a rather large, industrial complex in the middle of a decent stand of woods, with dirt parking spaces marked by bits of logs. Parking my motorcycle, I went inside and was promptly stared at by the four people at the front desk. Judging by their surprise, they weren’t expecting too many folks to be showing up at the crack of business hours. Regardless, I spoke with the first of these receptionists (once again forgetting to ask for a name, I really must get better about that).

Some polite introductions on behalf of the Wesley family led to this man checking my driver’s license as a form of ID. This, in turn, led to a rather humorous (to me, at least) exchange wherein he eyed my license with suspicion at the newly-present gray streaks in my hair, to which I responded with the simple truth: “I have a very stressful job.”

Paperwork in order, he then told me what I already knew regarding the circumstances of the tree’s removal, even going as far to comment on the quick turnaround between the missed payment and it being cut down. From there, he told me that a portion of the wood (naturally) went to Cullenfield, but that he wasn’t allowed to say. After gently persuading him by saying it was a matter of great importance and that I would more than willingly keep tales of his involvement to a minimum, this kindly receptionist scrolled down the list of information.

And scrolled.

And scrolled some more.

He then left me alone for quite some time--so long, in fact, that when I heard the blare of police sirens, I (admittedly rather hastily) assumed he had called them to the site. Feigning only my nonchalance, I went to the door and tracked their progress…away from both town and the building itself. After offering my apologies to the receptionist (as he’d returned while I was investigating), he gave me easily thirty pages of information regarding what I could only assume was the distribution of the wood.

Giving him my earnest thanks, I began the drive back to the safehouse. While en route, I received a text, which I read only once I’d arrived safely--everything forbid I give Levi a reason to criticize my motorcycle anymore.

‘Coins look they can move--Burton’s coin went back to the Crossroads. Someone’s inside. Meet @ Safehouse.’

With that cheerful note, I began to wonder if Erica’s coin was still in the hospital morgue with her body, or if it had already set to looking for its next victim. Musing aside, it was obviously Marcus, and being that I had already arrived, I set to trying to decipher the ledger I’d been given. The emphasis there lies on trying, as I quickly realized the entire document was written in shorthand I barely understood. Quite some time passed, all of it fruitless until I tossed the whole of the document onto the nearest flat surface in my frustration. Because my luck has a sense of irony and humor, it was that action that allowed me to find the document’s ledger key, wherein I could see that my helpful receptionist had circled one of the many two-and-three letter keys representing specific shipments: CCT, or ‘Cullenfield Center Tree’.

This in mind, it soon became clear that within the first half of the document alone there were easily ten locations that the wood from this accursed tree had been sent. Perturbed, I sent an email to Levi, with Marcus arriving shortly thereafter.

As the hour had grown quite late, we set about Cullenfield doing some reconnaissance, ending with dinner at the Ham Hock, a local diner. Our intent was to end the night with going to the Crossroads and trying to obtain the missing coin in as unobtrusive a manner as possible. Partway through our meal, it occurred to me that, in the miasma of reconnection with my brother and the single-minded focus I get on a hunt, I had become rather blissfully unaware of the sensation of being watched.

So realizing, I became vengefully aware of just how foolish that was: the feeling returned to me with all the intensity of an audience during the opening night of an opera, and fear took the nape of my mind in its teeth and shook it like some prey animal to be stunned.

I threw down what I hope was enough money to pay and fled, madly dashing anywhere, everywhere to flee from those eyes, those hateful, accursed eyes that will not stop following me, will not stop watching me.

Bitter fate once again had a laugh at my expense: I wound up, a concerned Marcus in tow, in front of an optometrist, its stylized eye sign watching me struggle against my fear with what my frantic, gulping breaths could only recognize as amused and active malice.

I made us late to our six o’clock appointment, naturally. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so, given he’s a local, Mr. Stubin was there as well. If his conversation with Dewey, apparently the name of the bartender, was any indication, not only had Mr. Stubin came into contact with another coin, but Dewey had given the coin belonging to the late Keith Burton (the first victim) to the man in question, only for it to show up after his death on the counter where he was sitting. Dewey then further explained he’d felt responsible for Burton’s demise, as he’d given the coin to him because Dewey had felt like he’d earned it for being nice.

In an attempt to try and earn the coin in a similar matter, both myself and Marcus offered to help Dewey behind the bar, as he seemed particularly dazed. I even went as far as commiserating with my similar experience regarding Erica...but, well, I suppose I wasn’t entirely surprised to leave empty-handed after a night of playing pool and waiting for something to happen. Marcus and left the bar shortly before close, sitting on a nearby bench to stake out the bar, as Dewey had likewise said the coin was still in his cash register after the incident with Mr. Burton.

We passed our watch with my pestering Marcus for details regarding his life in the four years I’d assumed him dead. He’d moved out to Washington, working as a handyman in between letters and postcards telling him to go on a job. Prior to that, on the night of our separation, he’d had to suffer the consequences of the attack that claimed our adoptive parents’ lives--after driving off the werewolf that bit him, a Wesley hunting team nearly killed him, only to be dissuaded for...various reasons. They instead brought him to the Branching Eyre and set him up with a job. In this way, our two stories aren’t too terribly different: a strange first encounter, followed by an induction into the world.

The family experiments on him. I didn’t ask him if he’d consented to that. I’m almost certain the answer is a firm ‘no’, just as he’d not asked to be turned. They aim to test the limits of his more monstrous form, and do experiments once a year. Last year it was testing a “pellet of silver”, which caused him to almost kill a man out of a sense of self-preservation. Complete blood transfusions and starvation likewise don’t work. There wasn’t an experiment this year.

As with all things regarding Marcus, our new partnership, and the way our family operates, I find myself...pensive, and not entirely in the way an impartial researcher should be. Certainly, there is an aspect to Marcus that is monstrous, but I find it hard to believe that, short of self-defense and instincts overruling his mind, he might ever kill someone. He is little different from your average man or animal this way--most prefer to be left to their own devices, and will not actively hunt down their fellow man or beast, except as survival dictates. 

That much should make my thoughts on the family’s treatment of him clear, particularly in combination with the many other things I have learned of his circumstance in previous conversations.

I asked him if he wanted to be cured, and wasn’t at all surprised when he said he didn’t know. We’re both clinging to that which is strange about us; how could we not, when strangeness is all we’ve known? His curse is the same as my search, definitely unhealthy, yet so compelling that despite only having it for a mere fraction of our lives...it consumes us. It is us.

We fell asleep in shifts, after that, quiet discontent and a gladness for companionship our only blankets. Rather foolishly, admittedly foolishly, I had forgotten about the coins in my pocket, only to remember them once they suddenly grew warm to the point of burning through my clothing. Not literally, mind, merely in the sense of temperature. Taking them out of my pocket revealed orbs of shadow rapidly growing in size. Giving Marcus one, we made a tactical retreat into the nearest alleyway.

I pinned the flashlight’s glow on the one in my hands while Marcus shifted and began to claw at it. He cut his orb nearly in half, only to be stopped about three inches from the center. It grew faster out of rage or spite, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but was terribly irritating and inconvenient--it grew to the size of a cantaloupe, and wherever Marcus cut it, thin appendages (for lack of a better word, I’ll call them tentacles, though no words exist for just how...indescribable these ‘Shadow Creatures’ are capable of being) sprouted, some of which made retaliatory strikes against Marcus.

It was during one such attack that I remembered, very belatedly, but better late than never, that we were to be disposing of these coins with fire, copper nails, or another method, should we stumble across one. After shining the light on the orb in Marcus’ hand in a successful attempt to drive back the tentacles assailing him, I quickly relayed this to him. Fortunately for us both, he had a lighter in that ever-present backpack of his, and it soon made short work of both coins.

Strangely enough, both times while burning them, Marcus and I noticed little white flecks disappear into the coins. I am uncertain as to what this could mean, but it doesn’t presently seem to have caused any lasting issue that I discern, even days after the fact. I suppose I’ll have to keep an ear or...eye out.

Regardless, it was then, as we caught our breath and came down from the high of adrenaline, that Marcus and I heard the clatter and clang of coins falling to the floor within the Crossroads.

[End of Part 1.]

-Arden ⊙ Multa pars, una veritas.

[republicstandard]

Arbeit Macht Goy

In our travelling circles the question of the value of labor has been finely discussed. There are even subjunctions of the movement entirely dedicated to its cause; you have National Socialism and National Bolshevism, with individuated parties ranging in size and scope. The Traditionalist Workers Party is the most notable example that comes to my mind.

More often than not, the analysis directed toward the question of labor is (unsurprisingly) one of critique and pragmatism. It is noted, with acuminous alacrity, that a man’s identity is tied into and integral with what he does. It could be further said that a man *is* what he does. The main problem with this associative thinking being that when a man is, say, robbed of his work or his lot, than he shrivels up and blows away in the industrial gust.

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That, obviously, is a serious concern. To that end, many of our guys have, with beneficent intent, stipulated that man must have a core identity beyond mere work and lot. A man may work, he may be married, but he is more than that. One would, I think, be a fool or the worst kind of AmCap to legitimately and unironically argue that point.

However, there is an opposite side to that coin. In the wake of Modernism, in the wake of Post-Modernism and the increasingly futile isms that have come in their wake you delve increasingly, and by necessity, into the reactionary realm. I do not use the word flatteringly. In this case reactionism is a harmful influence, for it causes a pendular effect on the White psyche in which decidedly extreme outcomes are repeatedly traded in an utterly futile attempt to reclaim the now forgotten center.

You cannot reclaim the center from the extremities. You have to, and follow this revolutionary thought Brothers, meet it in the middle. What is the center? It is balance, equanimity, stability and consistency – overall. The center is not a particular ideological component beyond the necessity of having an even keel to retreat to, if for nothing more than to formulate your direction and directive. The center is a state of being. It is one of the major contributors to the formation of a lasting Folk Soul which have all been robbed us.

In the life of an individual man there are a collective of passing achievements that God or Nature, or Nature’s God have conditioned him to measure his worth and progress by. A man should have a stable, productive and contributory job. A man should have a stable, productive and cooperative marriage. A man should have a stable, positive influence in his selective community. These fulfill basic sociological needs as imposed by Maslow’s Hierarchy; they should also satisfy the ego of those who tout “common sense.” (As if there were such a thing.)

Evolution inclined man to labor. To the same degree that ideologically, society is owed the artist and philosopher, society is likewise owed structurally to the workingman. The workingman is the Greek Atlas to Rodin’s Thinker. The Workingman with his hands has built everything. I may begin with the house in which you sit, the chair upon which you read this article from. If you sit in your car and read this on a phone, the end is the same. There should be a degree of glory involved in the realization that we, workingmen, build the physical trappings of the world.

Of course, you may enter tragedy. The workingman is a slave to the capitalist system. There is little way around this. Unless you are some (((magnate))) of some kind or other, you are a slave. Even the (((magnate))) is a slave, for their worth is wrapped up in the acquisition of shekels. Your skills are utterly neglected: society refused to acknowledge the contributions of the worker. He has no respect. On the basic, preconscious sociological level, the implications cannot be overstated. A man who works with his hands uses his body. His entire physical being is his primary tool.

I am a carpenter. I enjoy decidedly real aches and pains – they are the primary reward for my efforts. Men who toil, they hurt. And pain, in the long term, can erode you. It can wear you down. When you go to bed in pain, and wake up in pain; day in and day out, come spring and winter gone, in pain, you begin to lose your sense of humour. A clever man like himself reminds himself that this pain makes him stronger, that he is better off than soft-palmed weaklings. And this is true, I endure what lesser men recoil at. An injury that would make me grunt, I have seen stop weaker men for the better part of a day. Workingmen are a breed upon themselves.

Yet, no credence is given to this. Our strength and our endurance have no merit in a victimocracy, nevermind the pain. Society values transvestites. Society values visible minorities of every stripe. The workingman knows his blood and sweat have paved the way for this pathetic spectacle. His efforts contribute to that mess. His taxes, the token of his hard work robbed by a greedy, filthy and unquestioning monetary (((system))). And what does the (((system))) do with his wealth? Redistribute it, of course.

There is no amount of niggling, dickering, mansplaining or Boomer TALKING LOUDER THAN THE OTHER GUY AND REMINDING HIM HOW WRONG HE IS EVEN THOUGH HE HASN’T SAID ANYTHING BECAUSE MIGHT IS RIGHTing that will change the fact that this is true, and proponents of welfare statery are wrong to imply their will in the form of such taxes without consent… and certainly without representation.

So the workingman shrinks into an abyss of ingratitude. He becomes angry, bitter, cynical and despondent, effete, and flagrant. Why wouldn’t he? He must put his body on the line to support a world that certainly neglects him, if it doesn’t outright hate him. After all, the White Workingman can count on this: to at some point hear about the evils of White “Supremacy,” White “Privilege,” and White “Advantage” while the blisters inside his calloused hands are festering, his knuckles bleeding and his migraine quite throbbing. He looks at his gnarly hands where his hard earned money should be, sees an ungrateful indigent in his mind that the government saw fit to redistribute his wealth to for “social justice.”

It is easy for the workingman to despair, in this world. If the White Workingman protests he is met with the battlecry of the Eternal Boomer which sounds a little bit like this: “I don’t care if you’re Black, White or Purple if you come here, speak English and work!” Yes. Work. The Workingman knows his lot becomes increasingly harder because of immigrant labor. He knows that his wage will probably be cut someday to keep that edge against the invading foreign, colored hoards. Yet he is preached to by a generation that has secured their existence and doesn’t have to fear so much the colored hoard they invited. If the workingman is clever he sees the irony in the infinite repeat of history that tells the story of a bloated fiscal oligarchy that is destroyed by the foreigners they invited to line their own pockets.

Of course, the ignorant generation that will not see the plight of the younger is not safe in their hubris. The multicultural virus will spare no man. I shall tell you a tale that haunts me even as my callous crusted fingers press the keys that make this article. My Grandfather worked. He worked until he retired. His wife died, he remarried. By all accounts, he was a damned good American. He followed the rules. He donated a fair sum of money to civic causes he believed in. When he was young, he had served in the United States Navy. He had worked as an engineer. I am told he had passed several patents. But like many American he had his stresses. The long and short of it was this, his wife, when he developed Alzheimer’s, condemned him to nursing homes. And this I shall never forget: I went to visit one day. And there are days you know you’re in for trouble, sixth sense, if you will. Nurses were moving in on a scene. And there they were, huddled around my grandfather. His forehead was bleeding. He was hollering: “take me to the Embassy! I am a United States Citizen and I have rights! I don’t know what country this is, but I want to go home!” Oh, the mystery! The nurses all cobbled and cawed as I arrived. “What does he mean? I don’t understand!” I knew. It was obvious to anyone who isn’t a brainless shill. The nurse closest to him was blacker than coal, with space alien dreadlocks, and if she was capable of uttering a complete thought with proper English diction… she wasn’t. What was there to question? When you give a man with dementia a creature that in his honest mind doesn’t look quite right, like a foreigner than you will have a confused man! Astounding.

I have other stories in my arsenal, but let that be a lesson to White Men who think that their defensive posturing to the ‘moral’ authorities on race and relations will save them in the end… it won’t. Our (((greatest allies))) will make sure the last things you see are things you won’t. They will rob your pensions, destroy your retirement – they will then pay for the third world nurses that neglect you in a nursing home you didn’t choose.

Diversity, I’m told, *is* our greatest strength.

I’d ask my Grandfather, but I can’t, because he is dead. But you’re not dead, and theoretically, neither am I. So what do we do with all this depressing truth? It is something to bear in mind, something to help us keep track of all the factors. When some moron with a caved in head entertains the favourite American pastime of feigning ignorance to avoid the plight of being thought to agree with you, you may remind them why the worker suffers. Tell them stories. It might not make a difference, but we can’t let these pixie-faced, limp-wristed know-nothings get away thinking there’s absolutely no reason for a problem. Because they will – if you let them.

We are American Citizens. We have Rights. We will, all of us die. Some at home, some in a home, others, hell, at work. But we have a right to die in America. What did my Grandfather do to deserve feeling like he was abandoned to a third world country?

The average workingman today, though, has no overarching purpose. He did not see the bright, White America my Grandfather knew. So he passes his time for the reasons we have discussed, in indignity. Maybe he copes with alcohol, or drugs. I am told that the Opioid Crisis has reached unparalleled proportions. A comrade of mine by the name of Emil Kraepelin goes to distinct lengths to dispel the myths and educate our guys regarding this plight.

One of the major problems in the laborial sphere is a sense of manifold purposelessness. It is part and parcel with the blackpill phenomenon. You work for people with more money than you to give them things you can’t have. It is a sense of backwards thinking, the fault of early education and a poorly managed modern culture.

Here is my advice to White Workers. Keep this in mind. Learn a skill, learn a trade. You’ll have to start small. You’ll have to weather insult and injury. Keep heart. If the American Dream is ever going to be ours, than we have to start collecting bargaining chips. We need to do that now. The reasons for this are as diverse as the reasons for being depressed. If you learn a practical skill: carpentry, masonry, plumbing, wiring, than you become more solvent. The eternal call for working revolt has never changed. Without us, what would all the pampered, rich and effeminate do, exactly? Here’s a scenario: without leeching off our skill, the rich would die of sepsis in crumbling mansions that they can’t fix, squatting in a shallow hole they dug themselves because they couldn’t fix the plumbing. They would be reduced very quickly. They owe us, dearly.

The present system in which we live will not last forever. It cannot, by definition. When infinity immigrants have finished crippling the labour economy and all that’s left is coding… you will still have your skills. There will unquestionably be other citizens in a position to need you. And, if, God(s) willing we of our persuasion ever achieve a degree of separation… we won’t much be able to survive on coding, computers and being a generic Millennial or Zoomer, will we? No. Civilization is a complex organism that needs every single skill we have to maintain any modicum of resemblance to the comfort and complexity it presently yields.

Unless you want #VargNat now.

You learn a trade. If you’re good, you can go to work for yourself. It may not be immediate, and you might lose a little at first, but any degree of independence makes a difference. That independence makes a difference in your life. Working for someone else can eat your soul. Work for yourself? It’s a gamble. In the current year, there are no guarantees. But if you make a successful business name for yourself, you can hand that off to your children someday. That used to be part of the European Dream. Families inherit from familial progress. It is not impossible to reclaim that. I don’t think any of our ancient cultures ever intended us to live hand to mouth at the will of a globalist agency because ‘muh capitalism.’

If in mass numbers the Nationalists reading this began to take their own reins, rather than being self-hating service workers, became plumbers, electricians or what-have-you than we could, as a movement, increase pour capital gains. We could become self-sufficient. Right now, our bread comes from ZOG. Why is this bad? You know (((why.))) You place five of our guys in one County: one of them is a carpenter, one of them is an electrician, the other three are generic Millennials and Zoomers. The carpenter and the electrician can build business names independently, and even start to work together. Carpenters frequently call on electricians as subcontractors. Those other three chuckleheads? Why not hire them as apprentices. Now you have five of our guys collecting shekels directly, rather than having them handed off by some retarded system job.

Those same five guys, if the SHTF scenario ever happens, would be better off. They not only have friends, but vital skills. With their money they can support our causes. As our numbers grow tighter and larger, we can call on our guys, rather than some guy. That means money will begin to stay with us. This is important because the ability to hold onto material wealth is integral to any cultural reform. Skill and finance are bargaining chips much harder to resist than tattoos and memes.

But more than that, returning to the original point of this article, labour is part of a man’s identity. If you haven’t been proud of something you built with your hands, I’m sorry my friend, but you haven’t lived. I think I shall you another anecdote or two in this vein before I sign off and go make myself and my wife some bacon and eggs.

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On a job site, another client, brother to the one we were working for, came to visit. He talked a while before addressing me. “I wanted to save the work for you, because, you know, you’re so goddamn strong.” I couldn’t help but smile, and he went on to say, “ah, I’ll never forget seeing you carrying that big fucking rock up the hill. Nobody else could’ve moved it!” I won’t lie, and I don’t care if it marks me guilty for the sin of vanity. It feels good to know in some cases that my name precedes me. He’s told the story to others, I’ve heard him do it (while I was carrying big beautiful rocks.) On another job I did for a relative, there was concern moving this and that and the guy that hired me said, “don’t worry about the weight, this one’s stronger than an ox.”

So it goes.

It all brings us back to the Havamal. Cattle Die, and so do Kinsmen – God(s) know anyone over age 20 has seen more death than they care to. But we know what does not die: the name of a good man dead. I know that I want to be known as a keen philosopher when I die, but I shall settle for being another Sisyphus.

To a degree, pride cures pain. Knowing my work is appreciated, it makes it worth the while. Knowing my deeds are worthy of someone else’s time in the form of a story told to strangers (to me) is an incredible ego boost. That is why we are supposed to work: our skills are pooled into larger projects and our endeavors are to be respected. Our strength and skill are to be respected. We are not just workers and helpers. Without us, your service economy would have nothing to house it, your wealth would evaporate, and you would most likely not be here to undervalue us.

Something to think about.

from Republic Standard | Conservative Thought & Culture Magazine http://bit.ly/2OYUFbm via IFTTT

[bedouin-orion-blog]

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