The Homo and the Negro Page 4

  Evola adds:

  The latter will be directed first of all to the conquest of the principle of immortality, and then to the total stable nature, no longer transitory or deteriorating . . . by which the human manifestation is established within the realm of becoming.70

  Immortality! Yes, indeed:

  Loki’s Way gives us the opportunity for individual immortality. It means using the very structures that are in place to satisfy the replicators and which sustain collective immortality for our own benefit. We are literally making a u-turn; the very things that sustain the immortality of the collective must be used against the norm to achieve a permanent, discrete and individual self.

  This, of course, is extremely difficult and confronting and accordingly the path to immortality is one that only a few will attempt and less will achieve. It is hard to conceptualize just how radical such a process must be. The best way is to seriously consider that absolutely everything you believe, feel and think could be wrong. Your tastes, choices, preferences, likes and dislikes are all conditioned. Nothing about your life is authentically real. It is as though you were conditioned as a government agent and everything you believe to be true about yourself, your life, your career even your family is simply brainwashing. The truth about the human condition is really that terrifying. Most will find such a scenario so frightening and so personally confronting that it is easier to look away and find fault with this book than to wake up and smell the coffee. (p. 58)

  What Evola calls alchemy or The Royal Art, Wulf calls . . . sorcery:

  What is sorcery? Sorcery is a means by which an individual is able to wrench control of the evolutionary processes to become individually aware and immortal. He or she becomes a discrete, isolate intelligence which exists beyond the confines of the collective processes of eternal re-occurrence. . . . Within Loki’s Way this change is the transformation of human to post human through the focusing of the Will. (p. 61)

  The bit about the Will reminds us that Evola was compelled to treat Crowley with some respect, despite his deplorable life and personality, as someone who Knew Things. Wulf goes Evola one better and brings in Crowley explicitly.

  Another thing he brings in explicitly, and much to my heart, is the Männerbund, which Evola only relatively briefly discusses. Wulf connects the dots between the historical Männerbund and the esoteric path to individual immortality followed by the elite—in contrast to the common fate in store for the followers of the Vedic “path of the fathers,” Evola’s realm of society beneath the State, my own contrast of Family Values and Wild Boys. For Wulf it’s replicators versus Sorcerers.

  The Männerbund or Warrior Band is the origin of the esoteric path, because the latter is, au fond, a battle; which Wulf explains, typically, in equal parts Sufism and Dawkins:

  Memetic eugenics is the process whereby we weed out unworthy memes and replace them with memes which will help us evolve. This is what Loki’s Way is all about. We dissolve conditioning and replace it with memes which are conducive to our own process of godmaking. This book is a meme, bringing esoteric traditions in line with science and hopefully awakening the small number of people with the potential to become more than what they are.

  Sorcery is found in many ancient traditions. In the Norse we can see that the warrior ethic was an expression of the battle against the flawed aspects of the emotions and psyche to achieve a true Self which would enter Valhalla. The berserker or warrior is a great “type” of the seeker for the Overman. An even more intriguing example is in Sufism where the concept of Jihad is interpreted in a unique way. The outer form of Jihad is a just war but the inner form of Jihad, the more significant, is against the false and flawed aspects of the personality. This model of the internal battle where we wage a sacred war against genes, memes and frames to achieve a Self is an expressive and poetic way to represent our sacred quest. (p. 66)

  So, paradoxically, only the Warrior Band, the Group, can provide the context for true individuation:

  This is one of the reasons cell, unit or Männerbund work is so significant, it keeps you grounded and stops the fragments of the ego from influencing your worldview. A good group of fellow working sorcerers can bring you to earth quick smart! (p. 95).

  We might also suggest, this self-selected group that never the less valorizes individual male excellence—thus, androphilic if not homosexual—is the solution to the paradox that Michael O’Meara has observed: the White race contains an overemphasis on the individual against society, which, while contributing to our creative dynamism, can be exploited by our enemies to render us uninterested in or even hostile to concern for our own race.

  This warrior elite, devoted to realizing a higher principle, is the origin of the Traditional Aryan State, which is oriented to a transcendent principle, in contrast to the common herd and its promiscuous “wants” and “needs” (think: peasant frivolity vs. the Templars) and thus also the social stratification characteristic of Aryan society (p. 72):

  The sorcerer and warrior both have the potential to become Overman via different means or by combining paths. Loki’s Way is the modern equivalent of [Georges Dumézil’s] first function combined with a warrior ethic. It can be applied via the mode of the lone wolf, with a blood brother or in a Männerbund. The teaching level of the sorcerer and warrior is esoteric and left hand path. (p. 74)

  At this point, the story takes a turn that may give the average reader a turn himself, but not our Constant Readers:

  As organic and social memes are dissolved new forms of sexuality and emotional bonding needs to be created. Every man has androphilic potential, it just has to be activated and directed. Since the transition to the Overman is unnatural and works against the normal evolutionary process which favours reproduction then the focus must be on same-sex bonding. (p. 112)

  I am not suggesting that every screaming queen or muscle-mary is a spiritual warrior or engaged in Platonic love. I am suggesting that to cultivate a unique form of androphile friendship based on esoteric ideas is the highest form of relationship and for the Overman naught else will do. (p. 109)

  Which leads to chapters discussing both historical traditions from India to the Norsemen, and modern theorists from Edward Carpenter to Hans Blüher to Jack Malebranche. Especially important are his careful dissection of the various “models” of homosexuality that have gone into creating the modern notions of “homosexual” and “gay,” and analyzing their usefulness for the Left Hand Path.

  The [Uranian] model was popularised by both Ulrichs and Hirschfeld and ultimately proves wanting. It confuses intersex and transgenderism with homosexuality. While this is not surprising due to the early period of their work it is still a view popular today. It seems an ongoing slur in a culture which devalues women and sees them as “less than men” to associate men who take the passive sexual role as female. It could be argued that this identification has its roots in misogyny and was later fed by Judeo- Christian thinking. Many also believe that the idea of seeing a homosexual as a woman in a man’s body led to the medicalization of homosexuality which continued right through to the 1960s.

  The Intermediate Sex model [Carpenter] is significant as the shaman, priest and androphile warrior existing outside the normal structures of the society. At the same time I think we need to be careful using the term third or intermediate sex as it infers a state which is not quite one or the other, rather than as one which is both. The masculinist model of Brand and others (it is also found represented in the work of Jack Malebranche today, Androphilia) is appealing and certainly relevant.

  Personally I we think we need to develop a new model for our sexuality hence terms like Androphilia and the Männerbund need to be understood in a new way. This is especially significant since we are talking about same-sex relations in terms of a unique goal not as an everyday preference. For the Männerbund androphilia is a special form of “sacred” bond which is expressed between warriors; it is also initiatory.

  All comrades have a male and femal
e side and clearly since they are working to transcend human restrictions would have no problems exploring passive or active sex roles. The genders within us, so to speak, represent a great source of power and we may use cross dressing or passive techniques for Seidr work but also have no issue with being warriors for Galdr (active runic sorcery) or even in battle. (p. 129)

  I think Wulf is on to something important here. All of the existing “scientific” and especially “historical” models seem skewed against the correct understanding of the telos of esotericism being to transcend by uniting male and female, active and passive, etc.

  [P]rohibitions against same-sex relations hence the fear of homosexuality comes from an alien desert religion and has little to do with our traditions. . . . Many of these same phobias were passed down into Christianity and Islam. Many traditions had a very different attitude to same-sex relations prior to their infection by Christianity. Japanese Buddhism had a strong homoerotic element as did the Samurai, it was only Christian missionaries that did away with such traditions. Sadly many of the Eddic references to same-sex relations are negative but that is to be expected considering they have come down through the hands of Christian scribes! (p. 219)

  One could add here Daniélou’s similar comments on the importation of Victorian and modernist prejudices into Hinduism, as quoted in chapter three above.

  A careful reading of Guénon would lead one to infer that all “Traditions” are products of the Kali Yuga, early, to be sure, but still of the Dark Age. Therefore one might well find some misunderstandings of the wisdom that was being recompiled after the chaos of the last cyclical turn. Combined with the necessarily elite and secret nature of the esoteric path, it should be no surprise that there should be no adequate understanding of male bonding publicly available even in Traditional sources. Here, at least, we find ourselves agreeing with Wulf’s project to “make anew” Tradition: “Each form of the modern world represents a degeneration of the Perennial Tradition . . .” (p. 168).

  And quoting Crowley:

  Behold! the rituals of the old time are black. Let the evil ones be cast away; let the good ones be purged by the prophet! Then shall this Knowledge go aright.—Liber AL vel Legis II:5.

  In this verse we are given clear instructions about how to deal with the old schools of magic, esotericism and their formulae. The “old time” are the Older Aeons. These rituals are black, that is they should not be used until reassessed by New Aeon formula. Since most are based on the sacrificial image of the Dying God they must be purified and cleansed.

  Those which cannot be changed will be disposed of, those that can be purified can be adapted. As discussed throughout this book, Traditional forms of spirituality must be radically re-examined both in terms of Loki’s Way. Old age fertility rites must be cast away, let the blood brotherhood of Set and Horus Reign!

  A close reading of the passages in Evola’s Hermetic Tradition mentioning “androgyne” would show that the process involves the male becoming and then dominating, becoming so as to dominate, the feminine energies, a process he gives the provocative name “philosophical incest.”

  Also useful would be a reading of the essay from UR, “Serpentine Wisdom,” reprinted in his Introduction to Magic,71 in which Evola, under a pseudonym, mocks those with a “muscle-bound” understanding of power, and advises them to take on the “power of the feminine” (yes, Evola!).

  Later chapters feature a fascinating discussion, new to me, of occult warfare via Aeonic Magick and Time Sorcery and the attempts of Evola, Crowley, and even H. P. Lovecraft to tap into eternal principles in order to literally re-create the conditions of the primordial state in our modern age.

  The reader may find himself feeling a bit overwhelmed with all this somewhat theoretical discussion. The last third of the book balances this out with several chapters of “Sorcery in Practice,” the “many forms of sorcery and many models for recognizing the associations between our own inner world and that which is beyond” (p. 205) ranging from runes to sexual sorcery.

  The reader must have realized by now that no mere review could do justice to the contents of this rich and important book. I hope they will have also realized that the solution is to get their hands on this book for themselves. It is essential reading for those in the modern world who would “decide whether to be a nithing or coward or nothing, a member of the herd or crowd or a hero, a warrior, a comrade of the Männerbund” (p. 240).

  Counter-Currents/North American New Right

  September 23, 2011

  SIR NOËL COWARD, 1899–1973

  Noël Coward

  The Noël Coward Reader

  Ed. Barry Day

  New York: Knopf, 2010

  “The only thing that really saddens me over my demise is that I shall not be here to read the nonsense that will be written about me and my works and my motives. . . . There will be lists of apocryphal jokes I never made and gleeful misquotations of words I never said. What a pity I shan’t be here to enjoy them.”

  —The Noël Coward Diaries, March 19, 195572

  “White”

  —from a list of things with “style,” solicited

  from Sir Noël for an ad by Gillette razor blades.

  One is so used to today’s notion of the artist as an outsider, tortured or haughty as the case may be, or perhaps proudly degenerate, that it can come as a shock to find, or recall, that the artist has usually been, and more importantly seen himself as, a productive and grateful member of society, whatever its flaws; even a patriot.

  Ah, but what of the homosexual artist? Surely here we can find a true outsider. According to the victimology of the Left, life “before Stonewall” was one long uncut period of gay-bashing and oppression, subtle or overt.

  The point of such a mythology is to convince the homosexual that by accepting the manufactured “gay” identity, and thus contributing to the Left’s project of destroying and reconstructing Western civilization, he will be rewarded with both vengeance now and a bright future in an entirely new gay-friendly world.

  Well, it wasn’t that way, and it needn’t be that way. As the late English New Right theorist Alisdair Clarke put it:

  After the 1967 de-criminalization in the UK, homosexuals faced a choice between re-integrating with European civilization in a way not possible for 1,500 years (i.e., since the Jewish heresy of Christianity infiltrated the Roman Empire), or siding with the Marxist, Maoist, New Left enemies of European civilization, the ones who brought “Gay Liberation” from Manhattan to London. Instead of taking up our traditional responsibility of defending and glorifying our civilization, as did so many homosexuals in the past like Frederick II and von Humboldt, we supported of those who would destroy that very same civilization.73

  In this context, it may be instructive to examine the case of Sir Noël Coward, “The Master,” who practically invented the idea of “The Englishman” in the 20th century, as an example of such full-hearted, un-ironic “defending and glorifying our civilization.”

  Was Coward a “conservative”? It seems odd to those who remember him, if at all, as the campy cabaret entertainer of the ’50s and ’60s. When Coward’s Diaries were published in 1982, Variety was puzzled: “It’s a bit startling to discover that Coward was a ‘political reactionary,’” quoting his views on Suez: “The good old imperialism was a bloody sight wiser than all this woolly-headed, muddled ‘all men are equal’ humanitarianism which has lost us so much pride and dignity and prestige in the modern world.”74

  Rather than accepting such loaded terms as “reactionary,” we can certainly designate Coward as a “conservative” or “man of the Right” as Paul Gottfried has recently defined the term:

  The Right by its nature is anti-egalitarian and favors hierarchy over the idea (or chimera) of universal individual equality. It is also committed to preserving organic institutions in which families and communities can survive. It is profoundly skeptical of any scheme that seeks to advance some notion of human perfection
, and especially in the modern world, the Right should be fighting doggedly against social engineering and leveling.75

  Jere Real reviewed the work of Coward back in 1976 and came to the same diagnosis, but with this useful caveat:

  [A] conservative may desire simultaneously order in society and the toleration of personal non-conformity, he can doubt the existence of equality in the abstract but hope for the greatest variety in human experience. This combination—the orderly society combined with considerable expression of individual eccentricity—exists in our time, almost as nowhere else, in the England of a writer such as Noël Coward.76

  With the publication of The Noël Coward Reader, which chronologically mixes excerpts from his public work and private diaries and letters, we can now take a synoptic look at six decades of artistic public work and private rumination and not only see that Coward deserves, as Real suggested, Russell Kirk’s sobriquet, Bohemian Tory, but also some idea of how he came to be that way.

  The Reader is a big, well-organized, finely-produced volume, but it suffers from a couple of odd flaws. First, it claims that “to date, there has never been a Noël Coward reader; this is the first”; in fact, The Cream of Noël Coward

  was published in 1996 by the Folio Society.77 One might claim this was a “limited edition,” but it is still easily available online for half the price of the Reader. More importantly, although the Reader is three times larger, it ignores Not Yet the Dodo, which as we will see is Coward’s most explicit discussion of homosexuality, the artist, and society; it even claims that A Song at Twilight from the previous year is “the only time he touched upon the subject of homosexuality in his work” (Reader, p. 546). What could explain this curious omission?