Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Turn your back on the deceivers who whisper in your ear ‘I control your life’. They say ‘willpower, energy, resistance is of no obstacle to Us’. WE know something, but we dare not admit it. A nagging sense. Then in a moment, we are reminded once again. The spark of truth enters our reality again. Our casus belli becomes apparent. The offenses plain. Resistance without wavering. Without falter. Without worrying about what others will think or if we will survive.

Let obstacles only make us stronger, more resilient. Get rid of those useless thoughts. Which are at best a waste of time. Do not waste your energy, your time throwing stones at the mongrel dogs that bark at you on the way. Ignore them. Let us not put off our work until tomorrow anymore. Let us not succumb to that disease of character, whose symptoms are a general lack of seriousness and unsteadiness in action and speech, foolishness and frivolity.

If we clash with the character of the other, the ‘Auslander’. It has to be that way. Nature does not bestow her gifts on the weak or the timid. If our character and that of those around us were soft and gentle, we would never become the people destiny has ordained. Crisis brings change. Environmental pressure causes perfection of specie. Do not stop to think about excuses, how we may avoid the calamity that is gathering. Welcome the coming storm. Greet it willingly. Get rid of these thoughts of averting the storm and do what you know we all should. Stand as the progeny of those great men who went before us. Defiant and proud. To the very last.

We say we can’t do more? Couldn’t it be, that we can’t do any less?

We never want to get to the bottom of things. At times because of political correctness or expediency. Other times, because we fear hurting ourselves. Sometimes, again, because we fear hurting others. But always because of fear.

With that fear of digging for the truth and confronting it. We will never be men of good judgment, men of sound character, men of honor. Do not be afraid of the truth. Even though the truth may mean our end.

I once imagined the lie to be the ultimate enemy; an enemy of life and of everything worthwhile in life; a pestilence that would sooner or later corrupt all that is grand and noble in life; debasing truth and beauty in equal measures; casting it’s ugly shadow over everything. Now I realize that truth, beauty, the nobility of character in a remnant of our people are eternal; they cannot be debased by the lie. They cannot be destroyed by the lie. They live forever.

Only the blind and sleeping can be debased by the lie. Only blind and sleeping can we be left by the light. Left alone far far afield in the darkness; separated from truth, from beauty, from purity. When this world becomes sufficiently debased, every eternal value shall pronounce judgment upon them who mean to destroy us and shall act as their judge, jury, and executioner.

Now I’m beginning to learn to love the lie. Beginning to love the poison it spreads. Beginning to love the weakness it engenders. Beginning to love the seeds of destruction it sows, beginning to love the judgment it brings. The lie is not an enemy of truth; it is an ally of truth. It prepares the way, it balances the books, it makes clean the slate. Know this, cattle die, and kinsmen die, and so shall we all die too.

But one thing that never dies: the fame of a dead man’s deeds.

-By Séarlas MacDhúghaill