“Something evil is afoot in this country.”
That’s how my late father-in-law put it, two and a half years ago, not long before he died. On his deathbed, his withered body ravaged by heart and kidney failure, as well as other maladies, he distracted himself from his pain by watching a lot of television news.
It was the beginning of the scam-demic––the global imposition of false, draconian solutions to the very real illness of the Wuhan ’flu, both engineered by Xi Jinping and the godless, gormless gits of the Chinese Communist Party, damn them all. Despite all this (a truly fiendish global plot, worthy of a James Bond villain), Donaldus Rex, the most popular president since Reagan or maybe even Theodore Roosevelt, was surging ahead on all levels, and the hapless, flailing Democrats couldn’t locate their collective gluteus maximus with both hands in the dark. They were preparing to nominate Joe Biden––an evil, clueless, senile non-entity, who truly put the “vice” in “vice president”––as their nominee for the White House.
It was all so comically surreal. The Dims had no one; no one. Biden was being put up by his silly party as the sacrificial lamb that would inevitably be defeated by Donaldus Maximus. Everyone knew that. It was a slam-dunk. Dr Helmuth Norpoth, the noted German professor at Princeton, who’d accurately predicted every presidential race since Tricky Dicky in 1968, had already said, back in January, 2020, that Trump’s chances of re-election were well north of 90 per cent.
Of course, he did win, beating Crazy Joe by better than four to one, as European media outlets (beyond the control of the American Deep State) reported by carrying the real story. But like the good Maoists that they are, committed to defending everything false and ugly and confusing foul with fair, the congenitally mendacious Dims claimed that anyone pointing out their emperor’s nakedness was delusional. Yet of course the precise opposite is true. Show me anyone stupid enough to actually believe Clueless Joe, a man whose “rallies” couldn’t fill a convenience-store carpark in Asheville, honestly won the election without help from CCP computer-hackers and their water-carrying Democrat lackeys, and I’ll show you a hopeless idiot. This was a Chinese-sponsored coup d’état, top to bottom and pure and simple, unique in our political history as it involved the wholesale takeover of our political apparatus and branches of our own government (the departments of justice and defence, the CIA and FBI and more) by a hostile foreign government upset with Trump’s America-first policies.
Repealing the NAFTA was a thing of enormous significance. But usually, Trump only took baby-steps in the right direction. Still, even that was too close for Chinese comfort.
A keen eye and penetrating insight
My father-in-law’s body had betrayed him. But his formidable mind was still clear, and he watched all of this Democratic chicanery being prepared in agonising slow motion on those nauseating 24-seven “news” channels. A classic New York City Jewish agnostic intellectual who attended high school with Carl Sagan, my father-in-law was a brilliant and philosophical man. World-travelled and bilingual (he spoke French so fluently that he passed for a native when he visited Provence, staying in a gîte, 10 years ago), he spent more than 40 years teaching psychology at a major university, so he understood the human mind. And he knew how easily manipulated most people are.
A self-described progressive liberal of the FDR/JFK mould, he’d voted Democrat ever since his days in Korea and the Eisenhower-Stevenson race of 1952. But following Trump’s righteous victory over the palpably evil Lady Macbeth in 2016, my father-in-law had experienced something of a conversion: a thing we never thought we’d see. He’d made a real volte-face, realising that his party, the old party of FDR and JFK, was now quite dead, having been utterly replaced by unhinged, dangerous, delusional Marxists, anti-American subversives and bona fide terrorists.
It didn’t happen overnight. The process began when the Hippies glommed on to the Democrat platform of George McGovern in 1972, and things were ratcheted up every year thereafter. Hippies saw something special in Carter, who was weakness personified (“A man of monumental littleness,” as Theodore Roosevelt observed of John Tyler), merely because his hair covered the tops of his ears, and he could quote Beatles lyrics. By 30 years ago and the time of Slick Willie, himself a former sign-carrying, protesting, hairy Hippie, the countercultural connexions were obvious. And by the time of Jug-Ears Obummer (“Navy corpse-man!”), such sins were positively celebrated.
As he lay there in his hospital bed, watching the endless cycle of relentlessly depressing news, my father-in-law was aware there was something demonstrably evil going on in America and throughout the West. From Mad Maxine Waters and the Chinese-funded terrorists of “Black Lives Matter” and similarly destructive elements, all of whom should be locked up and thrown under a jail, to the nauseatingly ubiquitous Hitlery Clinton, who has never possessed the grace or sense to know when to leave the stage, and Clueless Joe and Kamel-Toe Harris, an airheaded whore who quite literally slept her way to the top, the Democrat party is so bereft of any shred of decency that nobody in his right mind could possibly support it. Only by being propped up by CCP dollars does this leaky ship stay afloat.
Why do the commies support the Democrats and all such factions throughout the ailing American Empire and the weakened West, what remains of Christendom? Simple. The commies and the libs have common foes: they both hate America and the West. One day, once the commies have destroyed the West once and for all, they will thank the libs and then politely ask them to move against the wall that they may be quietly shot.
And as they’re dying, probably the last consoling thought passing through the collective empty head of the libs will be:
“But at least, thank Ford, no one could ever say we were ray-cisss!”
Not always this way
There was a time when Democrats were not a bunch of America-hating freaks. For long decades, they championed the working man. They gave us labour unions and the eight-hour working day, amongst other good things. But then, predictably, the labour unions became hopelessly corrupt, co-opted by organised crime, and the defence of the working man became a matter of mere lip-service only. By the past two generations, the Democrats metamorphosed into something grotesque and unrecognisable––something provably anti-Christian and truly wicked: the party of feminazism, baby-killing and sodomite “rights,” which are of course “really wrongs,” as Catholic social critic Dale Ahlquist has observed. Ahlquist adds that the whole “hip to be queer” push is honestly “just a fad,” marketed to the gullible in a satanic attempt at normalising the objectively abnormal.
If you want a picture of what the modern Democrat party has become, look no further than the infamous “drag-queen story hours” foisted upon unsuspecting children and the push to administer strange drugs to pre-pubescent kids in order to deny the sex that God and nature ordained they should have at birth. These latest modern perversions come straight from the pits of Hell, promulgating one of the Four Sins That Cry to Heaven for Vengeance.
As Dr Joseph Berger, Canada’s pre-eminent psychiatrist, has said, “There is no such thing as a ‘sex change.’ There is such a thing as mutilation. But we cannot honestly change the biological cards we’re dealt at birth. To be convinced that one is somehow a woman, trapped inside a man’s body, is to suffer from delusion. And we don’t treat the delusional with surgery.”
But don’t tell that to Democrats. Liberals are extremely good at seeing things that just ain’t there, and they will browbeat you until you––publicly, at least––accept their delusions:
“I’m Peter Pan! And if you don’t accept that I am Peter Pan, you’re a bigot and a ray-cisss!”
Again, God help.
Mid-terms are crucial
I just voted.
I’m getting old, and my plumbing and I hate long queues for anything, so I’ve taken advantage of early-voting options for some 20 years now.
I voted a straight Republican ticket, as it was the only thing I could do. Sure, I wasn’t wholly happy with this, and I held my nose when voting for some of these idiots. But again, such is our only option. The alternative is death: the culture of death and indeed the Anti-Culture; the relentless foe of America and the West.
Mind you, as a Traditionalist (ultra-conservatives, somewhere to the right of Louis XIV), I am the implacable foe of liberalism of all stripes, and I have no illusions about Republicans. I bristle whenever they or their detractors hijack the word “conservative” as a descriptor. Truth is, Republicans and Tories can be just as liberal as the Democrats and Labour loonies they oppose. What we’re honestly talking about is an internecine conflict within Post-Enlightenment Masonic liberalism: what is sadly the default setting of the modern West.
We’re talking about buckets of dung. Some are painted blue, others red. Yet they remain buckets of dung nonetheless, and I don’t mean to malign dung! At least, unlike politicians, it has its uses. Probably much better in one’s flowerbed.
Indeed, but for the weakness and tolerance (which is not a virtue) of Republicans, Democrats would not even exist. It has perennially been the laissez-faire weakness of Republicans, in permitting the very existence of a political opposition, that has allowed the Democrat-Hippie cancer to metastasise until now it threatens our very civilisation itself. It’s Poli-Sci 101: you don’t allow any opposition to exist. You give your opponents the Pinochet treatment. The 20th century’s greatest, most effective leaders––from Salazar to Franco––have distinctly understood this.
Objective moral evil can never be allowed as a viable choice on a voting ballot. That we permit such things shows only how far the West has fallen. Indeed, we should not even allow the “right” to vote. Voting and the mere existence of political factions form the very quintessence of evil liberalism, which Holy Mother Church has perennially condemned as a sin. Hoi polloi, generally too stupid to know what is best for them, will nine out of 10 times vote for objectively wrong things at the ballot box. You cannot allow this; you cannot trust the common man to know what is best for him and how to vote, any more than you can trust your 5-year-old to back the station-wagon out of the driveway. The parallel is exact. The people may be good, but they need political strongmen to do their thinking for them.
As a Traditionalist, an integralist, a mediaevalist, a monarchist and a Dixielander (not opposing views but actually possessed of a divine complementarity), I know better than to swallow the Current Thing or to believe that something as inherently evil and anti-Christian as democracy somehow works. Democracy is a poison. The system is the problem, and I’m encouraged that these days, more and more people––especially ex-military types who’ve moved beyond Republicanism and republicanism––realise this. They realise that the American Revolution was a Masonic fraud and farce (as indeed all revolutions are) and that we’ve been blundering round in the wrong direction since 1776; indeed since 1517.
As St Pius X, the last pope to be canonised, said in 1906, “The true friends of the people are neither revolutionaries, nor innovators, but Traditionalists.” Unlike liberals, defending the false and ugly, we Traditionalists defend Truth and Beauty. As Mahler said, “Tradition is not the worship of ashes but the preservation of fire.”
Alas, most people are unable to appreciate such concepts. Thus we’re stuck with democracy. Like monkeys in a maze, people press the same, old lever yet expect different results each time.
Here’s a modest proposal: scrap democracy and take the countless billions of dollars wasted on this glorified high-school popularity contest on steroids and put ’em to a genuinely good use. Use those monies to feed, clothe and house the poor; you know, the stuff Jesus talked about.
I’d dearly love to go to war with an army of Templar knights and expunge liberalism from the broad face of the earth, once and for all. Alas, as someone said, you go to war with the army you have, not the one for which you might merely wish. And that means voting Republican.
There are true believers who get it. Rick Santorum is a good man; a long-time warrior in the fight against killing babies. I thrice voted for Ron Paul, who understands that America cannot and should not be the world’s policeman, getting needlessly bogged down in wars it’s no longer capable of winning. Vietnam and Afghanistan amply prove that. Rand Paul may not be as good as his dad, but kudos to him nonetheless for taking on that 82-year-old sawed-off garden gnome, Anthony Fauci, who really should rot in jail for the rest of his worthless life.
And best of all, there’s Trump himself; not truly a Republican, no. And that’s what makes him so great. Like Orson Welles’s Charles Foster Kane, he could honestly say:
“I am, have been and will be only one thing––an American.”
Ironic that a billionaire should best represent the interests of the people. But there you have it. And Trump is not Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos or Georg Soros, all of whom deserve to be locked away for life and have their personal fortunes expropriated for Christian charities. No, Trump––and I think Elon Musk, too, possibly––is made of better stuff. Trump represents the common man, and that’s why the welders, high-beam men and other construction workers who have built his skyscrapers love the man. For all his wealth, he is one of them.
My father-in-law understood such things, and he sympathised with such men.
“I didn’t want to ghettoise myself,” he once told me, explaining why he got the Hell out of New York back in the ’50’s and never looked back.
He was very fond of the great Jimmy Webb’s “Wichita Lineman,” as immortalised by the late Glen Campbell. As my father-in-law explained, the struggle of modern America is between the Wichita Lineman––the common, ordinary working man who gets things done and actually makes America work; the country runs on the sweat of his brow––and the evil, money-worshipping mavens of Wall Street and lunatic liberalism run amok. Democrats, in other words.
So get out there and vote Republican. Remember, you have no other choice.
And the Wichita Lineman is counting on you.
---The views and opinions expressed in “Traditionalism with Thomas Lark” are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Lincoln Herald.