In my latest video monologue, I speculate on the recent trend of quintessentially British spaces being overwhelmed by people of immigrant stock during the summer months. The pockets of ‘real’ or ‘true’ Britain that we regarded as ‘ours’ are perhaps reflective of a lingering mythology, or spiritual connection that the spread of managerialism and multiculturalism simply doesn’t recognise, or does, and seeks to strip from these places, intentionally leaving as reptiles slithering a de-territorialised wasteland open to all.

This, in my view, touches the heart of the crisis beyond economic or mere demographic raw data, namely, can we lay claim to anything as ‘ours?’

We dive into the intelligent and underrated 2000 film Thirteen Days about the Cuban Missile Crisis. How can rational actors following rational strategies create fundamentally irrational outcomes? What are the similarities or differences between Trump’s Iran stand-off and the Cuban Missile Crisis?

And is Pete Hegseth simply basing his persona on Hollywood incarnations of men such as Robert McNamara?

And much more!

On the British online right’s emerging respect for the hollow Prime Minister, immune to all pressures and criticism…

Mark is now on Substack, and you can follow him here.

Mark Collett

British Nationalist. Writer. Father.

I’m not usually one for offering commentary on electoral politics as it’s happening, so to speak, but local elections offer a glimpse of the country in the moment - a depressing glimpse, to be sure, like one of those microscope slides that show the bacteria under your fingernails.

Just to clarify for those outside the UK: the Local Elections decide who or what will handle routine administrative work, such as collecting bins, infrastructure, and housing issues, rather than electing MPs and deciding on the government itself. It is at this level that local “grassroots” parties push through the fresh green roots that will rejuvenate our glorious democratic tradition.

The results speak of fracturing, or old allegiances breaking and alliances crumbling.

The old Tory/Labour duopoly continues to be crushed under the weight of the policies they spent decades ramming down the British people’s throats.

My own views on Farage and Reform UK need not be repeated here, but the fact that they’re truly on the march represents perhaps why the party was needed by the establishment to begin with. Similarly, the grotesque Green Party fills a gap created by the dissolution of the Old Guard.

The clip above is not an anomaly but a harbinger of things to come. It is what is happening “out there” before the Westminster spin doctors and public relations departments can work their magic, making it more palatable to the British people.

The opposite of the Green Party fielding candidates that don’t even try to speak English is, of course, the Reform UK voter.

In my essay “Reforming Normies”, I wrote:

The current “Yookay” manifests the crisis that the British State finds itself in. It is not so much a problem with theory or ideology, all of which now ring utterly hollow and false anyway, but the subject population’s lived reality and material existence. The once abstracted “I would not mind if I were the only white person in a space” has become the very real and unnerving “I am the only white person in the space”.

The colossal surge in support for Reform reflects native panic, just as the Green Party has become an explicit vehicle for immigrants to access power. It is my opinion that both of these parties are astroturfed, yet their respective support bases reveal nascent sectarian divisions that will, and are, becoming existential in nature. So-called Muslim Independents are now projected to take 208 council wards, primarily leaving Labour because of their perceived lack of support over the Gaza issue.

If anything, the Muslims and Greens have underperformed in this local election. However, the trend is now clear: sectarianism has fully taken root and will become the all-encompassing driver of politics in the future.

The mainstream will continue to deny that people are increasingly voting in their own ethnic interest. We will endure excruciatingly dull debates on the NHS and “opportunities” because the core of the issue cannot be addressed within their frame of reference. The lies will continue, even as the nation descends into an intra-tribal power-grab.

A Note On Restore Britain

Rupert Lowe’s Restore Britain party mainly sat out the local elections, concentrating on their home ground of Great Yarmouth because they lacked the time needed to properly vet all the councillors applying.

Given that there’s obviously a huge wellspring of support for Farage’s Reform UK, the challenge for Restore is how to differentiate itself from it, particularly when we factor in the increasing drive toward a symbolic representation based on identitarian grounds. I say symbolic here because, until proven otherwise, that’s what Farage actually is.

However, there’s recently been much chatter online to the effect that Restore, like Reform, is already completely sewn up and in the bag for the Zionist lobby, like every other right-wing populist party. Lowe’s own statements and social media posts are certainly in keeping with that trend, while others in the party in senior positions have expressed opinions to the contrary.

The hot-take prediction economy means that many people wish to form a concrete view and, further, launch attacks on the party based upon that view. My personal opinion is that this issue hasn't been properly ironed out yet and could go either way. I expressed the view when the party started that Counter-Jihad style messaging and ideology would be a catastrophe, and there’s no shortage of people on Xitter gleefully posting screenshots of Lowe’s sympathetic views toward Israel in every replies section.

Unfortunately, the more demoralised the wider party becomes as they’re accused of being just another containment psy-op, the more likely they are to become demoralised and walk away.

Farage’s Reform is surging now, but we shall see that the future will be brutal toward warmed-over Thatcherism peddling individualism in a tribal Britain, and Restore Britain would do well to be prepared for that eventuality.

The Western way of life in the 21st Century is predicated on a model of infinite growth. Growth is maintained by inputs; one of those inputs is oil, another is human beings. The growth doesn’t always occur, and the people may not be optimal, but such a state of affairs merely requires more inputs as corrective measures. The line on the graph doesn’t always go up, but it should.

The political class will tinker with policies that reduce or seek to replace the energy inputs, or swap the inflow of people from one part of the world with another, but the arrow flies straight, and the direction of travel is absolute.

In the United Kingdom, the system has cushioned itself against uncomfortable political shocks by containing the extremes of both the left and the right, imbuing them with policies and ideas that would not prove existential to the system writ large.

Still, the nationalist, or dissident right, routinely flirts with ideas that would indeed prove existential for the system, though perhaps not so much for the people. Implementing policies that would not merely halt the inflow of people but actively seek to create an outflow of millions would, as mainstream pundits are eager to point out, make the debt unsustainable and cause an economic calamity.

An aging population with an upside-down pyramid structure cannot make the line go up, and by definition, it is not growing but shrinking. Of course, these dynamics could correct over the long term, but fundamentally, these policies are more than the current system could maintain, and it would die.

The question is, should we care?

To argue that, on the contrary, mass deportations would result in an economic boon is to argue within the logic of the current paradigm. The question would arise as to how the colossal national debt would be paid, or if the burden should be passed onto a far smaller and older population, and there would be a temptation to simply renege on any obligations and absorb the pain that would follow.

Naturally, this does not even begin to mention the massive civil unrest, geopolitical isolation, and pariah status that would inevitably be imposed on the United Kingdom.

We begin to see, then, why the current regime dedicates itself to locking out such a politics from the system; it isn’t “restorative” but revolutionary in its outcomes.

If the continuation of a distinct people becomes the ideological centre rather than economic growth and consumerism, the system’s ontological priors are reversed, and hardship can be justified for the greater good. Fewer consumer goods in exchange for a nation upon whose streets a teenage English girl can walk in safety is a relatively small price. Hyperinflation, not so much, though long-term demographic trends can be viewed with such horror that pretty much anything can be justified to avoid that outcome.

Yet it is the scrubbing out of the system’s first principles and replacing them with new ones that creates a revolution, not “reform”. This is not to say that eating curry or tomatoes in January should be banned, but rather that the population’s ability to do so would not form the philosophical spine of the new, revolutionary regime.

Iran is a revolutionary state in the truest sense, and has paid the price for it. Indeed, Iran, unlike revolutionary states such as 18th-century France or Bolshevik Russia, rejected atheistic secularism and returned to God, in essence, reforging De Maistre’s Great Chain of Being in the height of modernity. What resulted was a widely despised nationalist theocracy openly contemptuous of Western liberalism and materialism.

Wars were endured, attempts at internal subversion thwarted and ruthlessly punished, unending sanctions packages absorbed and worked around. The term “rogue regime” is interesting here because it begs the question “rogue relative to what?”

Bertrand de Jouvenel wrote that revolutionary regimes, because of their chaotic nature, “liquidate weakness and bring forth strength”. Far from liberating the people, the revolutionary state will inevitably expand its bureaucracy and managerial apparatus massively, even if only to deal with its myriad enemies within and without.

Similarly, the revolutionary state will have to become comfortable with establishing “escalation dominance” over its enemies, both internally and externally.

To state that you’re willing to endure economic hardship to attain a homogeneous population is to escalate the discussion into unfamiliar and unnerving territory for the current paradigm. It is to raise the stakes, to say that you will not barter or bargain over the first principle.

It was demanded of Iran that it bend the knee to Zionist and American hegemony, and it refused. However, it is now clear that, despite what Western news agencies reported, becoming a nuclear power was not a core principle of the Iranian regime; sovereignty was.

Sovereignty meant more to the Iranian regime than capital inflow, consumer goods, or even pharmaceutical products. To maintain it, the nation had to become a fortress, both physically and psychologically.

The revolutionary state’s willingness to endure greater hardship and violence means it is better prepared for escalation than a hegemonic order seeking to secure itself or tie up loose ends.

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The war between Israel/America and Iran has produced a remarkable state of affairs where Iran was forced to choose between surrendering its sovereignty or choking out the world economy, and chose the latter.

Thus, the regime has escalated to such a degree that the hegemonic order of neoliberal globalism is itself now being strangled and potentially permanently ruined, and it all stems from a revolutionary fervour with a set of core beliefs external to the hegemon’s.

The Right In Disarray

Before Donald Trump’s second term, the so-called “Dissident Right” was a somewhat passive online network of people sharing ideas, memes, and videos that, while often incoherent, did, in fact, agree upon a set of core principles.

It was acknowledged that, for example, racial differences were real, that the replacement of white people across the West was well underway, and that what was referred to as “Clownworld” or “Globohomo” was nothing but a nihilistic economic zone sapping the vitality and life-essence out of everyone. Nothing was agreed upon more than its opposition to fighting “forever wars” and “dying for Israel”.

If real-world networking and organisation were difficult and rife with infiltrators and “Feds”, the nature and scale of the problem were at least commonly understood and agreed upon.

Trump’s second term has smashed this consensus to pieces.

Now, wars for Israel were reframed by MAGA influencers as embodying the Anglo-Saxon spirit of conquest. They weren’t conned and lied to; they’d simply adopted a cold Machiavellianism and pitilessness that justified smacking the “browns” around. Indeed, at a higher level, it could be explained by the need to keep BRICS Third Worldism boxed in.

Such an analysis may or may not be true, but it can hardly be described as revolutionary opposition to Clownworld. A system that, a mere 18 months ago, openly and proudly discriminated against white people and whose Civil Rights Act undergirds copious anti-white legislation, is suddenly worth fighting and killing for.

Whatever anger and resentment that existed has been pulped and used as filler in the latest batch of patriots defending Israel.

Small surprise, then, that many view Iran with a degree of sympathy. After all, here is a nation that has genuinely revolted against the hegemonic order. Iran’s defiance becomes a proxy for the impotence of dissidents in the West, ground down by lies, corruption, false narratives, and containment.

The bitter irony in all of this is that, depending on how hard the landing is, the pain inflicted upon the West resulting from wave after wave of energy shortages, inflation, low crop yields, and civil unrest, will create conditions not too different from those that would have occurred under a rejection of the status quo.

However, the core principle remains the same: Do we survive or not?

We are not a system, but a people. We were a people before oil refineries and logistical hubs, before high-yield fertilisers and just-in-time supply chains, before Amazon data centres and the invention of the telephone, the steam engine, the printing press, political correctness, or World War II.

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This month, I read through my essays and speak about the emerging theories that try to explain the unraveling of the world around us. Is Trump playing the long game against Lloyd’s of London, or is it the Revenge of the W.E.F?

I also discuss how YouTube hates its users and creates disincentives for creators.

Thanks, as always, for all the support.

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A recurring theme of 1990s Hollywood is the soul-sapping tedium of what today we might describe as “normiedom”. Unlike in 1970s-era media, the institutions of power are usually portrayed as morally sound and reasonably honest (The X-Files notwithstanding). Professional, though technocratic and dull. Unlike the 1980s, however, the American Dream is hollow.

A population armed only with leaf-blowers, driving through relatively crime-free suburban estates featuring affordable houses the size of castles, is today looked upon with teary-eyed nostalgia, a “look what they took from you!” lament that the 90s were a Golden Age.

It wasn’t that the system was evil, but that it was boring and lacked any meaning beyond consumerism and the 9-to-5 treadmill of paying for a mortgage and pension package. As Tyler Durden says in Fight Club:

We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War’s a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives.

The 1994 James Cameron/Arnold Schwarzenegger shoot-‘em-up True Lies is ostensibly an action film about secret agents chasing down generic Iranian terrorists who are trying to get a nuke (I know), but really it’s fixated on the era’s existential questions.

Arnie, somewhat laughably, presents himself to the world as a banal computer salesman, content with his nice house, wife (Jamie Lee Curtis), and teenage daughter. By night, he’s a James Bond clone gunning down international crime and terror syndicates. Meanwhile, not being aware of her husband’s ultra-masculine secret, Jamie Lee Curtis is becoming sexually frustrated and depressed by the humdrum nature of their lives.

In an amusing but farcical plotline, Curtis engages in an almost-but-not-quite affair with a slimy used car salesman, Simon (Bill Paxton), who pretends to be a secret agent. Thus, everyone is lying to everyone else, but the common denominator between them all is that everyday life is dreadfully dull and to be viewed with contempt.

Indeed, it is implied throughout that the wife of a man with a boring job might be justified in having sexual encounters with more exciting men.

This aspect of 90s pop culture fascinates me, not just because I grew up in it, but also because from the perspective of the 2020s we can look back on it and see the fractures and fault lines that were not apparent at the time. In an age when the 90s are viewed fondly as an era just before everything went to hell, the decade can seem extraordinarily self-indulgent and spoiled, at least in terms of media.

It’s as if the game of civilisation had been completed, the end of history reached, and all anyone wanted to do was moan about the lack of excitement and purpose, to navel gaze while listening to the Smashing Pumpkins.

The system of government worked well enough, houses were affordable, most people were white, and you had access to a vast array of goods and services before the negative impacts of neoliberalism bit too deeply.

A degree of contempt nested within the stability, a resentment that, having reached the end of the rainbow, all that was on offer was a larger lawnmower and a six-pack of Bud in the garage.

True Lies is the end of Schwarzenegger’s Golden Age as a Hollywood action star. It wasn’t that he was too old (he was 46) but that the action movie itself had devolved into self-parody. In the final act of True Lies, when husband and wife are engaged on the real mission to thwart the Iranian terrorist plot, Curtis quips that she “married Rambo”. This was a trend in action movies that began with Die Hard, whose script is littered with references to other action films and stars.

Now, you no longer merely had the protagonist in an action film; you had a protagonist who was aware of himself as an action hero and offering meta-commentary on it.

This little trick works well in narrative terms because it means the hero has more in common with the viewer, as both are outside the medium, looking in.

However, over time, this descended into self-parody, which is exactly what True Lies is and why Schwarzenegger’s career went downhill in the 90s.

The highly-successful 80s action movie gradually died in the 1990s because people became bored with the formula and sought ways to break it apart, deconstruct it, and make fun of it — just like they did with everything else.

In his 2004 documentary The Power of Nightmares, Adam Curtis depicted the era as a mixture of comfort and Prozac, luxury and existential dread. A market-driven consumer paradise where goods were sold that emboldened the sense of self and individuality within the masses. Everybody was special and unique, and psychology became yet another monetised function that made each person feel that their needs and frustrations were theirs alone, even if millions were receiving the exact same treatments and diagnoses.

According to Curtis, the neoconservative movement in America felt the need to inject a new “Great Other” into the cultural psyche to fill the void created by the collapse of the USSR.

A cultural artifact such as True Lies carries all of these tropes. It is perhaps not surprising to learn that Hollywood was dripping the “Iranians with nukes” narrative into the media landscape as long ago as 1994, but they were. Moreover, in an age before political correctness had fully extended its talons, stereotypes and planting the idea of a generic Middle Eastern terrorist coming to explode nuclear bombs within the heart of the American dream, was not done with much subtlety or sophistication.

The central question of how to fill the void remained unanswered. Fighting them over there so they didn’t have to be fought in a Marriott hotel set-piece was all well and good, but it’s hardly surprising that people would begin to question the foundational pillars of the society itself.

True Lies is a mere switch your brain-off daft action film, but the “lies” are indeed the convenient fantasies constructed to give life meaning and purpose. It’s no surprise that, at the end of the 90s, American Beauty would seek to tear down the fabric of this monotonous existence, and The Matrix would depict it as entirely fake and question the nature of reality itself.

It can be argued that the groundwork for “woke” was planted in 90s nihilism. As in the action movie, the culture became increasingly self-critical and deconstructive, turning back on itself as its own assumptions and myths lost their authority.

Watching True Lies recently, two jokes told by lecherous, comedic side characters left a sour taste in my mouth. One scene depicts Arnie using military-grade goggles to catch his 14-year-old daughter stealing money. His partner and friend quips that she’s likely stealing the money to pay for an abortion, and that she is being brought up by Axl Rose and Madonna. In another, Bill Paxton remarks on Jamie Lee Curtis’ good looks by saying she has an “ass like a 10-year-old boy”.

In both instances, Arnie has to play the role of the put-upon conservative dad at a loss to understand the lewd, weird, and even perverted jibes of unpleasant, greasy side characters.

Fundamentally, the true believer in the 9-to-5 therapeutic system of capitalist managerialism couldn’t do anything except express confusion and repulsion at the undermining of traditional mores.

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The world of the carefully curated design for life was only ever waiting for a slight nip and tuck to corporate and political incentive structures, and the outlining of degeneracy and nihilism could become an official diktat.

To rewatch these somewhat forgotten relics of 90s culture as they are, not as nostalgia dictates, is akin to studying small larval creatures that will eventually become a swarm of civilisation-consuming slugs - to such a degree that people would yearn for the security offered by its predictability and boredom.

And the question of finding meaning within this structure remains unanswered.

Some stray thoughts on the impending supply chain shock and the curious lack of concern among everyday people. Can the problems be fixed by more narrative management and twiddling at some dials? Or am I just struggling to grasp reality in an ocean of information?

I recently watched an interview with John Mearsheimer discussing the Iran War in which he expressed his concern that the Jewish people, rather than merely the “Zionist Lobby”, will be blamed for the debacle. Mearsheimer’s now-famous book, The Lobby, detailed the extent and political power of Israeli-aligned power players in shaping American foreign policy objectives, and their sprawling network of censors and incentives to ensure that everyone stays in line and doesn’t ask too many questions.

Those questions are certainly being asked now. As I noted to Millennial Woes recently, we seem like squishy moderates on the issue compared to what people with far greater platforms than ours routinely say.

When I first began consuming content on the “JQ” around 2013, YouTube was a far freer, less restricted place, though actual white nationalist content didn’t amount to much more than perhaps two podcasts and five articles a week. William Luther Pierce’s monologues, mash-ups of Hitler speeches and documentaries questioning events in World War II, were commonplace. A documentary on the history of Hollywood and the content of the movie industry, called An Empire of Their Own, made an impression on me, as did Kevin MacDonald’s Culture of Critique.

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In this month’s round-up, I read through March’s articles and offer some thoughts on the growing animosity between Europeans and Americans. Despite the venom being spewed online, I still don’t actually consider myself anti-American, but that doesn’t mean I stay silent while the Trump movement goes insane.

My stream Auron on Spengler’s Second Religiousne…

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On the day Donald Trump descended his golden escalator in 2015 and announced to the world that he was running for president, the world knew that we were in for a good show. Left-liberals had a perfect embodiment of a villain, and right-leaning conservatives and nationalists finally had a great, loud, politically incorrect champion.

The idea that politics was mere entertainment was not new when the Trumpian age began, but there can be little doubt that the TV show aspect came to the fore. Indeed, the hallmark of the Trumpian age is that there was almost nothing outside of the sales pitch and the various narrative threads. The comparisons to Jerry Springer or professional wrestling were both legion and entirely accurate. There were storylines instead of strategy; heel-turns and enemies of the week rather than ideology. There was even the archetypal three-act structure of New Hope, backlash and defeat, followed by triumphant return.

Trump’s uncanny knack for creating new perceptions of reality through force of personality and bombast often seemed to contain reality itself, like sitting in the cinema and becoming so engrossed that you forget who you’re with, or where you’re sitting. The last ten years were a bewildering storm of imagery and iconic photos of Trump. The “fight, fight, fight” defiance post-assassination attempt, the mugshot, the sombre, gloomy walk toward a podium in an aircraft hangar, Trump barking at the boy mowing the lawn.

Yet, ever gnawing in the back of the mind, at least, was the question of where this would all end. Would Donald Trump simply shuffle off to play golf after the second term? Would he be impeached at some point? Would he enact the mass deportation schemes?

Fundamentally, we now see that the final act of the saga is ending more like a tragedy. The war with Iran has untethered Donald Trump’s nemesis, his greatest foe: hard material reality.

The Venezuela escapade that preceded the Iran war was typically Trumpian - no casualties, amazing visuals, cartoonish bad guy snatched, back in time for cornflakes. This Tom Clancy-style derring-do likely increased the administration’s confidence to take the next step, to go for the Big One.

Unfortunately, the nature of the bear trap that Trump has ensnared himself in is entirely his belief that he could talk, shout, and post on social media his way out of any situation. Some of the old magic still lingers, such as manipulating markets through statements to quell their panic, but that’s dwindling.

The idea that you can announce negotiations that aren’t actually happening, to sway public opinion, now seems farcical and insulting. Demanding “unconditional surrender” because of its connotations with World War II and Eisenhower also falls flat.

The military bases remain wrecked, the military personnel remain dead, critical supply chains remain blocked, and Iran’s hypersonic missiles remain active. The Epstein Files could be ignored or tampered with or downplayed, but a farmer’s inability to spray fertiliser on his crops cannot, nor can empty petrol nozzles.

The Trumpian Age, as a grand saga, is becoming a tragedy and a cautionary morality play. It is the story of a supreme narcissist who came to believe that he could flout the laws of nature and physical constraints through sheer force of personality, like a wizard or an illusionist, conjuring memetic spells to hypnotise his legions of followers. Yet the nature of the bear trap negates any such rhetoric or bluster because it is tethering MAGA to a different form - a different, harder existence.

A fork in the road stands before the American Government. One road leads to a full retreat, defeat and flight from the chaos it created, leaving Israel to fend for itself and facing a rout from the Middle East and severe loss of prestige on the world stage. The almighty petrodollar would be brought into question, and therefore also America’s ability to accrue endless debt.

Alternatively, it is the road toward escalation, a full-blown invasion, and stacks of body bags in what would undoubtedly become a bloodbath that could fail anyway.

No anecdotes can change this, no funny little dances, no lambasting allies as cowards and no sad utterances that America can simply leave, nothing can change the paucity of options.

During and after Trump’s last presidential run, his loyalists took to telling naysayers to “get in the crystal”. Yet it is now quite clear that it is Trump and his loyalists who inhabit a separate astral plain.

The options available to Trump within the confines of his own mind seem infinitely more rosy, less existential, and less real. In this fantasy realm, Iran acquired Tomahawk missiles and fired them at their own girls’ school. Iran is on its last legs, and the rebels will storm the offices of the state at any moment. It’s just a matter of time before the fleets of other countries arrive in the Strait of Hormuz to form a grand coalition - under Trump’s sovereignty, of course.

Trump’s version of vainly ordering long-lost Panzer divisions into battle is to regurgitate patter and old one-liners, to do the funny little dance from the rallies one more time.

This, all the while, Trump himself becomes a meme via Iranian AI propaganda.

The man who once held perceptual reality in his hand now finds himself crushed in the grip of physics.

But then again, the same could be said for the West writ large. The postmodern reality television era was only possible in times of plenty, when the circus encompassed everything because we never had to think about the bread. But as fertiliser stocks deplete, inflation soars, and policies emerge to ration fuel, the desert of the real will return.

The intricate lattice of supply chains, critical infrastructure, energy demand and supply, and just-in-time economic models has, like Trump, been revealed as a fragile sham.

Millennial Woes joins me for a lengthy discussion on the Iran War. We discuss the changing discourse around Zionism, the incoherent messaging from the Trump administration, the justifications for the war, Europe, energy, and how this chaos might be resolved, and much more.

Find Millennial Woes substack here:

Millennial Woes

A Scottish guy pontificating about the world we are living in, and heading towards.

It appears that severe economic strain and crippling energy prices are now baked into the near future. I am a pessimist by nature; studying Spengler’s The Decline of the West merely formed an intellectual and philosophical underpinning for what I felt in my gut. Why were great works of art and musical symphonies a thing of the past? What was the eerie hollowness inherent in a zeitgeist that only concerned itself with money?

A difficult question arises if one forms one’s worldview on the premise that things will only get worse, not better. Namely, what is to be done? Or what can be done? Are there no political solutions? What if we were all materially better off?

A few years ago, I wrote an article asking whether the West was an elephant tottering around on fragile stilts. While my focus was primarily on internet cables rather than energy supplies, the disconcerting truth that our technological marvel of modernity is propped up on flimsy balsa-wood foundations has re-emerged amid the war in Iran.

Never a platform to shy away from hyperbole, the Daily Mail carried this headline:

It is impossible to say whether this doomsday forecast will come to fruition, but at least some degree of pain seems unavoidable at this point. What the article will not mention, of course, is that the population is now highly “diverse” and, given enough strain, likely to fracture into ethnic and identitarian lines, drastically compounding the stress on society.

Here, we witness the agonising folly of creating a multicultural society lubricated with debt-wealth and childish ideals conjured up in focus groups. The truth of it is that multicultural Britain has never been stress-tested, not really. A homogenous country can withstand famines and wars, economic collapse, and cold, but a society divided against itself by government decree? A nation comprised of rival tribes and the wandering waifs and strays who washed up on the shore for lucre?

I’m a pessimist, but not a nihilist. To return to the question of what must be done if gradual decline is inevitable, like the changing of the seasons, the answer I came to long ago was that the damage and suffering must be mitigated as much as possible.

Pro-immigration advocates, such as Zoe Gardner, have already made it clear that no numbers of murders and rapes offset the alleged advantages of mass immigration, as she states here:

Drill down through sanctimony, and what Gardner is essentially arguing is that we must import foreign human biomass because we are not sufficiently replicating our own human biomass. If we fail to do so, then the “system” comes under duress. Fundamentally, the system of infinite growth and neoliberal economics must prevail, not distinct ethnicities. In this frame, humans are no different from the energy supplies currently burning in the sands of Arabia and the Persian Gulf, a resource or capital that greases the Globalist Tower of Babel.

Yet, we now see that the system is cracking at the macro level, regardless of how many immigrants we have paying for pensions and acting as human quantitative easing for the bond markets.

The already highly dubious merits of the pro-immigration argument become untenable if the raw infrastructure is in flames. All that remains are minority white towns and cities, poisoned with seething sectarianism and resentment. All for nought.

The argument that “you may not like immigration, but it keeps the system running” assumes that negative outcomes can be offset, but they now seem to be arriving anyway. The multi-ethnic tinderbox has thus created a situation worse than simply being poor, worse than facing “hard times”; it is a force multiplier of misery and strife.

It is true that a white-only UK would have too many old people relative to the young. It would be a challenge, it would be a struggle, but eventually, thanks in no small part to the housing stock being easily affordable due to a declining population, people would settle, and the situation would improve. There are worse things than being poor. There are scenarios that are infinitely worse than returning to the diets our people had in the 1950s; it’s just that so imbued are we with the spirit of progressivism that spells of hardship have become unthinkable.

The satanic bargain our civilisation has been built upon is that we can inhabit an eternal summer, the days will be forever long, the harvests rich, and the honey sweet. All it has cost us is our land, our future, and our souls. The very idea that we should lower expectations, make do, and retreat to restore our energy, is anathema.

Hard times are coming, whether because of the latest madness in the Middle East or some other, as-yet-unknown factor. What would have been hard times in a high-trust, homogenous society will instead be hard times alongside foreigners gaming the systems and the handouts based on their own tribal, in-group loyalties that have been expunged from the natives.

So what is to be done?

The answer that I have given for years is localism and trust networks.

A few years ago, I spent a few days clearing brambles and undergrowth from an old man’s garden. I knew him from the local pub. It wasn’t a big job, cutting back with shears, strimming and rough turning over of the modest patch of soil. A few weeks later, he suddenly appeared at my door with cardboard boxes stuffed with seed potatoes ready to be chitted. So many, in fact, that I didn’t have the growing space for them all. I could call it even here, a favour for a favour. Instead, I intend to bring him a basket of leeks, beans, and tomatoes in midsummer when I go to the pub.

Rather than wax lyrical about localism or growing vegetables, let us instead consider what has taken place between men entirely outside of the system.

1. Firstly, the isolating shackles of atomisation must be severed, and contact must be made with other men in the area

2. A common ground has been found through conversation, and a favour offered

3. The favour is subsequently reciprocated by the delivery of an abundance of goods

4. The foundations will, in the future, be built upon by a further exchange

5. With trust now established, further favours and services can be arranged. For example, the old man has a friend who is a retired mechanic, and he has a son who knows a lot about fixing computers.

Nothing grandiose is taking place here. There are no grand unifying theories or ideologies. It is instead the awkward, tentative steps back away from the isolated individual reliant on systems and the embryonic emergence of trust networks. It is what will bolster the native population in the face of imported tribalism (who are doing the same), what will survive when the stilts crack and splinter under the bloated bulk of the elephant.

It is what will remain when politics and everything else fail.

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Endeavour and I jump into the 2016 depiction of the origins of fast food giant McDonald’s. We discuss how McDonald’s rebranded patriotism, placing itself at the centre and creating a theology of capitalism.

Is hollowing out traditions and identity intrinsic to the nature of mass and scale capitalism? How can the political right claim to be conservative while also embracing dog-eat-dog economic models?

And much more…

The Retard War began on the 28th of February 2026 when the Americans bombed the spiritual leader of Shia Islam and 160 girls in an Iranian school. This was it, then. This was why the woke was put away, this was why Trump’s myriad legal challenges and court cases were mysteriously dropped. This, as ordained by God, was why Trump survived assassination. It wasn’t a “forever war”, because it wasn’t a war, it was a “special military intervention”, or a “precision strike mission”, or something.

The grand strategy was to prevent Iran from ever attaining the nuclear weapons programme that had been obliterated the previous year. As well as regime change, disarmament, and allowing Iranian women to post on OnlyFans. Soon after, the regime change section was walked back. What remained was the dedication to drag the wild-eyed mullahs and Islamo-zealots into the 21st Century and secular sophistication, at least according to God’s Chosen People and the Christian Zionists preparing for the Rapture and the world being bathed in whirling plumes of fire and death before Christ’s return.

The Retard War differed from previous sojourns into the sands of Arabia and mountains of Persia in that the post-Fukuyama End of History intellectual framing had been dispensed with entirely; instead, the Retard War ran on memes and slick edits of Hollywood franchises and HBO series. Secretary of War Pete Hegseth adopted the persona of cold technocrats from early-2000s shows such as The Bourne Identity or Tom Clancy films, but more so. It was a living, breathing pastiche of media depicting war planning decades ago, the fish finger to Baudrillard’s freshly caught cod. A copy of a depiction of a cliché based on Robert McNamara or Donald Rumsfeld.

It was no longer enough to talk matter-of-factly about assets or forces; the Retard War demanded “War-Fighters” and “Warriors”, because hyperbolic language plays better in social media algorithms.

The problem was that the Washington social media teams had entered the meme game just as the social capital of Zionism had reached rock bottom, and the general consensus online was that Israel was a warmongering lunatic state that had corrupted all of the institutions of power in America. In the face of such animosity, the greatest advocates of The Retard War simply reheated 20-year-old counter-jihad propaganda while posters online attempted a “might makes right” moral framing, thus the messaging was a gloopy porridge of both victimhood and will-to-power.

But nobody really cared.

The Retard War grand strategy was to decapitate the Iranian regime by killing an 86-year-old theocrat with cancer, in the hope that the disorganised masses would spontaneously rise up and coordinate a new government to replace the Revolutionary Republic. Alas, this plan was hampered by American and Israeli war-fighters killing any figureheads in Tehran and Donald Trump rejecting the (West’s) favourite substitute, the Shah’s son, Reza Pahlavi. Moreover, the Iranian state didn’t actually run on the whims of a Dr Evil Palpatine individual, but had a sprawling bureaucracy and civil service to keep the nation ticking over despite the bombs and assassinations.

Washington, having spent the previous month insulting, annoying, and threatening their own friends and allies in Europe over Greenland, was nevertheless somehow surprised by European reluctance to participate in the new Middle Eastern adventure. For their part, European nations feared the internal threat from the millions of restive Muslims they’d imported against the express wishes of their populations. Diversity was such a strength that geopolitical decision-making now had to consider the realities of historically insane immigration policies.

Except, of course, for the centre-right. In the weeks prior to the outbreak of the war, the British right had undergone a fierce debate in which parties such as Reform UK and the Tories tried to distance themselves from the “extreme” elements of the right who advocate mass deportations. To return Pakistanis to Pakistan was framed as unethical and inhumane. However, when the Americans and Israelis launched an unprovoked attack on a sovereign nation, such grandstanding immediately evaporated, and the British centre-right instantly demanded that we dive headlong into the conflict.

To the mainstream right, the idea of people being returned to the land of their ancestors is infinitely more abhorrent than high definition clips of little girls choking on pulverised concrete or being dragged out of rubble clutching teddy bears. The demographic apocalypse of the British Isles is for cranks and crazies.

The real adults are adopting faux Churchillian tones and feigning a grim determination to do what is necessary for Israel. Meanwhile, their deluded supporters are allowed to outsource their anger and frustration at atrocities such as the rape gangs and the pointed elbows of Britain’s expanding Islamic population. Bombs falling in Iran, which is also Islamic, allow for a sense of long overdue catharsis, and even if it’s misplaced and orchestrated for them, it’s something.

Of course, the collapse of a Middle Eastern country containing 92 million Muslims will create an unprecedented tsunami of displaced people washing up in the English Channel, and we still have a Labour government that will almost certainly settle them in the country, but who cares when we get to wrap ourselves up in WWII nostalgia and pretend to ourselves that it is 1939 all over again?

British boys from Carlisle, Dundee and Chichester may well face immolation by a Shahed drone in the arid mountains of Persia, but that’s a price worth paying to keep the most psychotic, corrupt and incompetent cretins in recent history content.

It does, however, seem to have dawned on the wider British establishment that this war is a Retard War and they’re not just looking at possible Islamic terror attacks or sleeper cells allowed in because of their own retarded and malicious refugee policies, but also to energy shortages and economic collapse. And even the Labour Party, unlike the British centre-right, isn’t stupid enough to wear that as a badge of honour.

On the broader world stage, one gets the impression that the war is the Götterdämmerung of MAGA and Trump. The betrayal is so staggering, so complete that it defies definition. It is, though, emblematic of a post-narrative, post-intellectual era in which the powerful can “just do things”; it’s just that in reality it isn’t Conan the Barbarian but a tattooed prick pretending to be Ed Harris collapsing the world so Israel can steal land and fulfil a grander project. The faux “might makes right” framing is utterly hollow because in 2026, everyone can see that the fox-like schemers and corrupters have the mighty leashed like a dog.

We can but hope that this conflict comes to a close soon. Yet, it now seems that Russia and China are shuttling money, intelligence and weapon parts into Iran because they think the Great Retarded Titan has become ensnared in his own hubris - and as always, it will be poor white boys who die.

I do not want our people to be in any way involved with this mess, and so far, we aren’t, but neither do American boys from North Carolina, Virginia, or Ohio deserve this.

We all deserve so much more than this, the most Retarded War in History.

In this week’s monthly recap, I consider the month’s theme: a new age of sincerity and honesty, against the backdrop of Restore Britain, Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, and the new war in the Middle East.

Thanks as always for the support.

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Carl Benjamin, on the Lotus Eaters, recently compared the right-wing ecosystem in Britain to the Middle Ages, with various dukes and barons now expected to declare for either Restore Britain or Reform UK. There are, no doubt, a few sorry sods out there raising their banners for Kemi Badenoch, but in the social media ecosystem, it’s essentially binary.

After some initial confusion, streamers, bloggers, and podcasters are now moving to weaponise their platforms in defence of their champion.

It has come to my attention that a tweet I made just after the announcement has appeared on a few pro-Reform blogs:

Jack Hadfield, writing on the pro-Reform, Tory-Boy outlet Pimlico Journal, describes it as:

There are far too many who care only about signalling their ‘based’ credentials online, rather than implementing change in the real world. This commitment to being the ‘beautiful loser’ is represented best by this tweet which flew around the Lotus Eater sphere after Restore’s launch.

…This is an attitude which plagues the British Right. The perfect is the enemy of the good. Politics is not a game in which the loser receives a consolation prize and a pat on the back. The stakes now are too high. Either we take power, by whatever means, or we’re done for. A future where there is no right-wing government in 2029 looks incredibly bleak

The “beautiful loser” line was coined by Sam Francis in his essay, Beautiful Losers: Essays on the Failure of American Conservatism. The essay is a diatribe against the feebleness of mainstream Conservatism in the face of the mad dog left, their willingness to buckle and suck up the losses while being consoled with gigs in mainstream newspapers and television slots.

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Nigel Farage, who literally states that Islam will have to be embraced or defeat is inevitable, is the very essence of a beautiful loser, and those who follow him routinely fall for it again, and again, and again. Even if Reform UK wins an election in 2029, the country will not be saved precisely because the party is comprised entirely of the beautiful losers described by Francis.

Yet, even the idea that the Reform UK Party are mere losers is the charitable interpretation. In truth, it is a second defensive trench hastily dug by the Conservative Party, the beautiful traitors who wrecked the country in the first place.

Thus, there is no scenario in which “we” take power in 2029 under a Reform banner; there is simply a consolidation of the centre within a new containment zone.

The question then is what to do in the no-win situation we find ourselves in when we look clearly and honestly at the political battlefield.

I was not on the “Farage Train” before Restore Britain existed. I had given up on the idea of a political solution.

To posit “taking power by any means necessary” while in reality advocating for a party which will likely have Robert Jenrick as a leader in a few years is a bit of a howler, to say the least.

The grim reality is that we’re rats in a trap. It is indeed true that we’re running out of options; the choice before us is whether to remain in the trap and slowly die out, or chew through our leg and break free of it.

When Alex Phillips warns Young Bob to think carefully about his future, she’s signalling that there are consequences to moving outside of the containment zone - fewer slots in the GB News, Talk TV punditry, no gigs in the Spectator, no invitations to dinners in the Cotswolds.

Just turn away your gaze from the fact that Hope Not Hate vets the members, or that Farage openly despises the idea we exist as a distinct people, or the flood of Boriswave Tories replacing grassroots. Like Cowslip’s Warren in Watership Down, just scoff your face on the conveniently provided lettuce while pretending not to notice the shiny wire laid about here and there.

Did an Indian Buddhist with a Jewish husband endorsing a Sri Lankan Muslim promising he’ll defend Christian values make you raise an eyebrow? Just enjoy the fodder and don’t think about it.

The actual dividing line between the two parties isn’t policy, but trust.

Nobody forced or tricked Farage into filling up the ranks of Reform with Tories; he did so freely and enthusiastically because he views his base as gullible marks who had nowhere else to go. I sympathise with the Reform base more than Farage does, my own family are among them. Yet, despite the fact that it would be better to have a Reform councillor at the local level than a Green or a Labour councillor, when Farage thought the coast was clear and the base was locked in, the knife went straight into the backs of those who thought they were on an anti-Tory, anti-establishment ticket.

The danger of the actual Tory Party being reduced to “Zero Seats” or, at least, having their backs broken was that too much fertile ground was cleared on the right of British politics. Who knows what shoots may begin to sprout through the ground?

This, in my opinion, is why Reform UK exists. To fill space until, eventually and inevitably, folding back into the Conservative Party.

They aren’t trusted because they don’t deserve to be.

Restore Britain is something of a wild card, an unstable element that has been introduced to a tightly controlled system. This is not particularly complicated unless you have incentives to view it differently.

Most of us, however, are not too concerned about being dropped from GB News, the trendy Art-Ho network, or whatever…