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Revenge of the Technocrats
by Constantin von Hoffmeister
6 February 2005
Maya does not exist. Illusions do not exist, otherwise they would cease to
be such. Life is not an illusion. Life is matter - exclusively! History is
the constant struggle of matter. Whether in bad weather or sunshine, man is
not the origin (= not to be = never was, a long time ago in eyes that now
look in plastic rearview mirrors) and end-all of the historical process that
really has no end and no beginning. Who defines history but the creatures
who know how to jest about it? People do indeed desire opiates. Why not give
them the REAL thing instead of the spiritually filthy by-products of
metaphysical masturbation sessions?
Yes, I piss on metaphysics and religion and the esoteric and useless
mumbo-jumbo! I shit on it! I vomit on it! At the same time, however, I extol
its virtues by pointing out its limitations, meaning that metaphysics can be
beautiful and enriching when one realizes the sheer impotence of its
so-called powers of wannabe perceptive "veil-lifting" by taking it for what
it really is: a symbolical flower to put into the "living-room" of somebody
else's head, a pretty object of ejaculatory force (cathartic in nature, like
a pounding fuck). Why evacuate the big cities when they are not nearly big
enough yet? We need megalopolises spanning the globe. We need to speed up
environmental pollution, so that European man is forced to play the role
that suits him best, the role that he is obliged to take on if he wants to
emulate the legends that he himself created. We need to rid ourselves of
this puny Earth-bound existence. We must live exhausting lives, we must
work, we must rediscover the joys of mass exterminations - we must be
covered with oil, greasing the grey colossi of spaceships that will take us
into ever more zones ripe for colonization through flattening. The ideal is
the colorless city of cold drab darkness, monolithic scrapers of the
industrial clouds again reminding adapted European man that he is once more
only a cog in the MACHINE. Rise, o soldiers of the future! The whole
universe is anxiously waiting to get royally raped! HAIL the race that
devours others - laughing, burping, tunes of doom ringing in the advent of
gloom! After the eclipse, Pol Pot may again rise, but this time clad in
space-black-suit look, snazzy and worn.
I create my own nightmare world of ecstatic joy in which to play out my
sombre phantasies in light of regressive retrospection. I do not share the
(unfortunately) common view that Earth must be saved. This would be an
impossible task in any case if an asteroid the size of Seattle is hurtling
towards the Blue Planet. We would surely all perish. Aryan man, the organic
elite and nature's noblest creation, would be finished without having the
slightest chance of recovery or finishing the godly task laid out for him
aeons ago by the Abraxi. European man is always able to "improvise, adapt
and overcome." In a generation or two, European man on Mars would be taller
than his counterpart on Terra due to a lesser gravitational pull on the Red
Planet. Thus, another small step of evolutionary progress would have been
achieved. Indians, by the way, can cook excellent curries, but are hardly
able to build a civilization as magnificent as the one that they lost a long
time ago, due to miscegenation and the corruption of ancient Aryan
rationality. The future will be EVROPEAN or not be at all!
The noble savage is a lie. The beast as nigger as saint is still a beast.
Stone tools and wooden spears do not a rocket make. Fat lips on a naked
half-human are exterior symbols of a subhuman soul. Their ugliness makes
even bound feet on a Chinese noblewoman a heavenly sight. The noble Race is
the one that gives to those who need in order to advance and takes what it
deserves from those who can only beg and hunt. Progressive peoples despise
the animalistic instincts that prevail in the still damp and dark corners of
the globe. Indio animals wear no clothes. Their innocence is shattered due
to the lack of sufficient covering. Only fashionable clothes portray the
elegance of a civilized people's soul. Thus, progressive peoples regain
their honor (that was lost due to the evolutionary process and its resulting
de-unification) by displaying their superiority through the delicate choice
of textiles. Our European Earth is in danger of becoming re-primitivized. We
must, at all costs, recognize the danger that is inherent in the genetic
make-up of the monstrous and backwards invaders of our homeland. We must act
and expel or be reduced to wearing loincloths again!
CONSTANTIN VON HOFFMEISTER
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