This is a small consideration I am to make about the phrase “Arbeit macht Frei” (Work makes free – work will free you), which was found in German refugee sites (concentration camps) during WWII.
The first thing we need to understand is the European concept of work. Europeans have seen hard working as noble and invigorating for centuries. Taking matters to your own hands, being useful, building things. This is what our people have always been good at. Look at the antique and ancient handcrafts, made with no technology, no plastic, only a man’s hands and his carving knife. Giant houses of splendid architecture built with no lorries and using, at the best, some levers to help them.
Work provides your family, work builds our villages and towns, work proves your worthy and fills your life with meaning. Work makes you noble and blesses you with great values, work builds your moral sense. Those who work hard achieve higher and have a better spirit.
Let’s take a look now at the profile of those who were sent to concentration camps: people of doubtful origins, people who liked making easy money (even at the expense of an entire gentile population), people who intentionally tried to pervert all of those good senses we need to survive as a race.
The solution the German people as any European people could possibly find was to purify them with work. Work to fulfill them with what they lacked. Work to make them understand the hardship and pleasure of building something with your own hands, to be a constructive person who had more in them than the simple desire for money, but a desire for honor.
Once they got all of that in them, they could be made free. Once they were taught the values European men judged indispensable for any living person, those values that prove you are worthy of our soil, they would be free. Not only free from the camps, but free from their past selves, those who were blinded by their greediness and laziness, to a brand new and fresh person, with high morale on themselves and no need to destroy in order to achieve.
So, here I am, proud to say: ARBEIT MACHT FREI!
Well, I am feeling really bad and I think expressing it to other people who might be going or have gone through it can make me feel better.
Here is the deal: I have a lot of family problems. I believe everyone thinks that’s just the normal stuff for a 19 year-old girl, right? I would think that too, but in my case, things go a little bit deeper than they should. The only family I have are my two brothers, my mother and my aunt and cousins (who live in another continent). The thing is, my older brother had a son when he was 20 and had to go to another country to work with his wife because they had nothing, no job, no responsibility, no money and no home –nothing to care for a child. That was about the same time when I was born, with one year of difference. My father was a drunk bag of retard by then, and he didn’t want me, so he left my mom. What happened was that my brothers and my mother worked together to raise me and my nephew. My brother told my mom to stop working so she could take care of me, and so she did. A little while after, my brother’s mother-in-law (my nephew’s grandmother) asked to take him with her and raise him, so it was only me and my mom.
Things went ok just like that, with my brothers working, the elder with his wife in another country, coming for visits every two or three years. Until I was 6. That’s when my mom and my brothers bought another house together, so my mom and I moved to this new house. My mom always used to drink, but when we moved it was getting worse.
On the second year of living in that house, my mom became a heavy drinker and everything went down a hole. We moved to more times and got where we are right now. This completely messed me up when I was a teenager, constantly losing everyone made me unable to deeply bond to people or really care for them –something I’m working on until this very day. I mistrust people, I’ve had several problems with depression, anxiety and nervous breakdowns and the only thing that made this better was my deep faith in Wotan, Frigga and Freya, who gave me strength to fight and be able to care for my mom alone since I was 6. Several times, I had to bathe her and put her to bed. Several times she left and I didn’t know if she would ever come back.
It was also about when I was 6 that my brothers started getting weird towards me. They were rude, they treated me in such a cruel manner I could not explain. They did that from my 6 to my seventeens. One day, the middle brother (the one who stayed here with no kids) simply stopped doing that and started talking to me. I can’t explain how great that felt for me.
This year, my brother came back from that other country. He always treat me poorly, he always says I’m a slut even though he knows I’m going out with my girlfriends and come back with their mothers by car. I have to deal with that, otherwise I’ll be kicked out of the house, and then where will I go? How will I live? I have no one but my brothers and my aunt who is in another country. I have no father and my grandmother died before I was born. There is no one to care for me. Knowing that, you’ll understand the next part and why I’m so terrified that I can’t even stop crying or leave this room anymore.
Yesterday, I was telling my mother not to leave the bathroom with too much hair because it was clogging the drain, that was in the morning, just before I went to work. I left. I worked the whole day. I got home by 22 P.M. and I just wanted to eat and go to sleep. So my brother (who spends the whole day eating, smoking, drinking and dirtying the entire fucking house like a dumbass pig in a farm) comes up to me and start telling me how I was an idiot for saying that, because I was “prissy” for saying that the fucking drains were getting clogged. So here is what: he is now a 40 year-old man, who accomplished nothing in his life even though he worked 20 years getting about 10-15 thousand a month and spent it all on useless shit who has now a balding head and still uses long hair. He thought I was saying that (about the drains) for him. He screamed at me until I had a breakdown and locked myself up in the bathroom and cried for 4 hours straight.
I don’t do drugs, the maximum I drink is beer and wine, I am no “slut”, as he claims me to be and I completed a course while finishing high school and now I work almost every day with one day off for every 6 of work. I can fluently speak two languages, I am in the middle of the third and in the basics of a fourth. I work hard so I can achieve my dream of going back to Europe with my own effort. I dream of having children so I can show them a world I didn’t see and they will show me a love I’ve never felt. But every time this happens, I feel like family means nothing at all. How can this exist? How can someone have your own blood and be such a piece of human garbage?
I just really needed to get this off my chest. Feeling better already. 🙂
I have lately seen many letting out their ideas on what really is art. I, too, have the feeling I should let out a bit of my thoughts on it. Unlike the other posts I have seen, though, I am not going to show what I consider to be a chimpanzee that got paint on its hands being called art. Here I show a piece of what I really feel like art and really touches my heart.
I will then present one of my favorite artists of all time: Theodor Severin Kittelsen.
You will find that Kittelsen was deeply in love with nature and the Norwegian mythology. Some of his pictures do not even have a deeper meaning, they are just beautiful scenes he felt deserved being portrayed. He has several works on trolls. Theodor was also engaged in showing history in his paintings. One of the most shocking of his works (to me) was “The Black Death” which consists of an old woman that brings death, based on the plague. It is so horrifying to me I can barely look at it. He was, is and forever will be amazing. Enjoy:
The nokken (Neck) is a shape-shifting creature that assumed the form of a white brook horse.
The Nokken (shape-shifting creature) in the lake.
Many artists are obsessed with one specific animal. I think Theodor’s were bears.
I often see him mixing creatures bond to nature with nature itself. For some reason I love it.
I couldn’t find a good translation for the title, but I found something like “Light beings capture shadow troll” -boldly self-describing.
This one gets to me because of the purity it inspires. It’s like they’re light itself. Plus, the fairytale of Valemon is a very cherished one to me. Worth reading.
These pictures should be more than enough to express why I love his works and why I feel like this should be saved for posterity and not those ridiculous laughingstocks being called “art”. It is outrageous and insulting to every single living person who knows how to hold a pencil, has eyes or a brain that some people call their shit art. Note that when I say shit, I don’t intend to use as an expression. There are people who literally call their excrement art. I won’t show you that. No one deserves seeing that and that doesn’t deserve to be seen by anyone. Instead, I’ll show beauty in order to see beauty.
“For the most beautiful things in the world come in a piece of paper: music. Anyone who thinks of another answer isn’t worth being someone.”
Within the vast range of common rants found in the leftist argumentation, there is one in particular which has always caused me a personal distaste: “Check your privileges.”.
What do they even mean by it? I believe they are trying to say white people, particularly men are being privileged in our society, thus have no rights to object in any matter whatsoever. I believe they mean that, by disagreeing with any of their controversial, nonsense, offensive demands, white people are being just spoiled little brats, who don’t check how much they have before talking about poor, suffering minorities’ struggles. That’s when my personal problem with this comes.
Let’s just have a check on my whole background, which describes the backgrounds of many whites around the world. My family was poor. Really poor. They were so poor they went through hunger. They were so poor they went through real deadly diseases without any medical aid. They were so poor the children had to use maize as dolls (yeah, ikr?). They were so poor they wore shoes made with potato sacks. That’s how poor my background is. That’s how poor the background of the huge majority of Europeans has been across ages since the christian domination. Italians and Irishes worked like slaves in the “new world”. We had no privilege. We never meant any more than the negro slave. The rich wouldn’t dare reproduce with us. They were disgusted by us and our poor blood.
I am not ashamed of this “poor, disgusting background”. I am, in fact, proud to know how much they sacrificed so I could be here today, living a comfortable middle-class life. But my life hasn’t been all so sweet. I, too, have faced poverty in a part of my life and it was awful. From 7 to 11 years old, my family dealt with a huge economic problem, so we lived with just the real basics. Plus, by that time my mother had a drinking problem (she never went aggressive, but it was still pretty ugly). In school, I was lonely and actually mistreated for being “too white” (later on this problem got bigger, but leave this for another time) and my life was going down a hole.
Now that I’m a gown-up, knowing well about suffer and poverty and the complete lack of privileges, I have to deal with an Estate-wide decision: the pro-active measures to include the less privileged ones with poor ancestry and background. It is fair to expect that European descendants (those who worked like slaves to build these countries) would profit from it, if facing poverty, right? Yeah, well… Wrong.
They forgot to mention that by “less privileged” and “poor background” they mean miscigenated and dark-skinned people only. Yes, that is right, if you prove you are from an indigenous/afro background or simply have dark skin, you are approved into Estate-founded scholarships, you are given bonus in any Federal contest and you are entitled to 20% of the jobs in any private company. Yes, they have no choice, 20% of its workers will be dark-skinned/miscigenated.
It seems like white poor people don’t need any aid or pro-active measures. After all, they have all of those laws helping them already, just like that one, uh… What was it again? Well, I’m sure we’ll find something as soon as we cross the bridge to Terabithia or find the end of the rainbow.
Let’s just ignore it, then. After all, we’re good today, aren’t we? I mean, all measures that can help people are welcome. I am sure people will eventually notice it’s wrong to make all of these moves to help improving the life of all indigenous, miscigenated and afro-descendants and just leave white people behind. They will change those laws and include us, right? Yeah, well… Wrong. Not only they ignore that, but when people started noticing how unfair and single-sided those measures were, do you know what liberal lefties said?
“It is easy for you to say things like that, since you’re white. Check your privileges before you talk about those measures.”
Thinking about it, yes, I am so sorry that in the last 50 years a small portion of the white group, contained specifically in western Europe and parts of America and Oceania have lived well after our last 1960 years of poverty, suffering, lethal epidemics and war.
I am so sorry that after watching my life go down a hole two times I would dare think I deserved the same rights as every other citizen in the country.
How dare I say I am proud of my background, seeing how amazing and fantastic (not to mention far better) those other peoples are.
I should really worship them and kiss the ground they step on, right?
Let us discuss the Christian view of a woman: the useless, the meaningless, the being that is worth no more than a horse. What living human on earth could possibly be fine with that? With knowing that the ones who suffer most with wars are women and horses? With knowing that being sexually abused is considered our fault, because we dress provocatively, walk provocatively or even have provocative eyes -things men use to blame us for their uncontrollable corruptness.
These men I talk about are, of course, the men who follow Abrahamic religions. The man who trades women like coins, who uses them as sex slaves, who sees them as good for no more than bearing his male children, who carry his name. This man sees honour only in himself, not in his family. His family is meant to bow for him. The women have to obey him no matter what, because that’s what they’re born for. His male children must carry on his legacy, growing up to know women mean less than men.
There is, though, another type of man: the pagan man. The pagan man believed the world was both a man and a woman. He believed the world was a balance, a family of deities, each carrying their own tasks, tasks only they could fulfill. There were the female deities. Deities that represented not only fertility or motherhood, but bravery and fight. Deities that were not only behind male deities, but stood beside them. Deities that gave them wisdom, council and could foresee their future. These female deities represented everything women meant to men. Everything a woman personificates to a man was in those female deities. The strength, the tenderness, the care and the struggle.
In pagan societies, men were also the ones to deal with the army and fighting, whereas women could not enter it most of the time. The reason for this is different from the Abrahamic one. Supposing all men die in war or hunting, who is going to lead the tribe on? Who can deal with the small children, can find food with less risks and knows about medicinal plants? Women could. A man can fertilize many women, but a woman can only have one child every nine months, and to every child she has to take about a year of care before she can safely give birth again. Who is more valuable, from the tribe’s point of view? Women were. This did not mean women were always forbidden to enter the army or going hunting, but this was an exception, for most women knew they had to save themselves for a greater good. They knew how to fight and hunt, because they were taught to, but they had another task only they could accomplish.
Today it is hard to differ a woman from a man, but this is because our women forgot who they are. They are not the Abrahamic slave. They are the pagan warrior. The ones who could gently care a child and bravely hold a sword. I have struggled with this for many years too, but now I remembered. I don’t need to choose between being strong or being a woman. I have to be strong in order to call myself a woman. I know my place and that does not mean I am submissive, that means I am irreplaceable.
For all of my life, I have been influenced by the European traditions in my family. Since I’m 1/4 German and 2/4 Italian and 1/4 Austrian, the biggest influence is the Italian one. I have spent my childhood learning about family, tradition and I have been taught what the role of the man is. From my German and Austrian lineage, the strongest traits I have are the tough ways of two of my grandparents (being that my grandmother by my mother’s side was Austrian and my grandfather by my father’s side was German) which were very hard-working and focused people. They were very diligent about working and hated losing time they could spend advancing work. From the Italian side (the majority) I have got the handcrafting, the cooking and the herb using, as well as a lot of life concepts too.
Now, both these sides suffered horrors when they left Europe. They were promised a temporary work, and if they worked hard enough here, they would be sent back to Europe, receiving lands to live off of. However, once they got here, they realized they were fooled. Their names were registered wrong, they didn’t speak the language, the people who lived here didn’t like their “racial background” and they barely had where to live. The men had to work as slaves. Real slaves. They got beaten and had almost no salary at all. No one cared for them. Their families had to deal with near starving conditions of poverty. That’s something real, something from my family. My mother had hard times as a child and saw her family go through serious periods of hunger.
I don’t have anything like that, because my family worked so hard they almost died (my grandfather actually died from pushing himself too hard). All I can have for them is gratitude, admiration and eternal love. They had to deal with so much emotional suffering. They were taken from their land, fooled, they lost contact with those who stayed, missing them day after day, not knowing of their parents and brothers. How much more did they have to suffer so people would stop saying that being white is being “automatically privileged“?
My family kept in a closed lineage, marrying mostly other Italians and Germans. There is even the story of a great aunt who married a Portuguese man and was expelled from the family. Yet, I am not in Europe -or, at least, not yet. I am so closely related to Europe in terms of blood that I have the right to a dual citizenship, which can bring me back there. I have many fears related to it. I am scared of failing. I am scared of not belonging here nor there. Maybe I don’t fit anywhere. Maybe the Europeans who love Europe as I do are gone. Even if that is the case, the only way of finding out is going back. My heart will never ease if I don’t go back to my roots. My pain has no other relief. We are bound to blood and soil and nothing can change that. Nothing will ever change me.
Lemon balm (Melissa Officinalis) is a common plant, found in the south and Mediterranean regions of Europe, but you can find it in just about any natural store. Just be careful to check if it is really the lemon balm, because many people mistake it by St. John’s Wort (Hypericum Perforatum), god knows why.
Caution: Large intake of lemon balm is not advised for people with low blood pressure. That includes pregnant women, who generally have many nuances in their blood pressure.
There are many uses to the lemon balm, some of them experienced by me. The effects are: relief of intestinal gas, calms the digestive system, chronic bronchitis, nervous system, colic, toothache and headache, also has a great impact on depressive disorder, works as a mild sedative, antibiotic, anti-inflammatory, cures common virus infections (e.g. flu), rheumatic pain and cough.
Wow! That’s a lot of good effects it has on you. It has been traditionally prepared as a tea, but can be added to juice and mixed and used in recipes of all kinds too. If you use the fresh leaves, just put two leaves (or one and a half) in your teacup and fill it with hot water and cover the teacup. Using the dry leaves, generally smashed, add about a teaspoon of them to your cup. There are no clear restrictions to the concentration you can use, but up to some point it’s just not going to be well mixed in the water and absorbed by you. If you desire to sweeten it, avoid using sugar. Use honey instead and you get the same effect on taste, but a less harmful one on you.
For babies: Babies have a lot of problems with intestinal gases they can’t release, and often cry a lot about it. As babies are more delicate, it’s advisable that you try making half the concentration used for the normal tea. Children sometimes are very sensible with things they will not have any problems with when older. It also may help your child calm down and sleep better and for longer periods at night. Avoid adding sugar.
For animals: The lemon balm tea can also get your animals rid of fleas. For that, you should add pieces of the stem and leaves to a mixture of water and alcohol -some people like adding salt. I add about 20 grams of lemon balm to 1L of water and 100mL of alcohol. Then, I just leave it in a glass recipient for three days and it’s ready to use. You should bathe your dogs/cats with it about every 14 days.
Many believe that the vast gardens full of roses in Europe were only for aesthetics, a simple wish of the noble. It’s not hard to find, though, that roses were registered by Pliny, the Roman writer, Charlemagne’s library contained medical books which mentioned the rose petals and, of course, ask your grandmother about it (unless she’s a late bloomer) and she will tell you all about it, because this knowledge is passed down generation to generation.
There are many properties to the rose petals that can help your body function better: they’re full of vitamins, they’re diuretic, they’re astringent et cetera. The rose petal tea will help cleanse your body, help with respiratory problems, relieve PMS (and some say even menopause symptoms), heal low-mood, scurvy, combat inflammations and it’s anti-bacterial -and those are just the confirmed effects, there are some that claim it to be anticancer too. The rose hips have many uses as well: vitamins B, C, E and K, linolenic acids, iron, magnesium, dietary fiber and calcium. It has been one of the main sources of vitamin C in Europe for a long time, before the mass buying of fruits from the tropics.
The hips can be eaten or made into jelly, jam, juice and anything that comes to your mind. They will be specially good for the children, as they have a special need the properties contained within the rose hips. The roses can be made by infusion or just by immersing the petals in the water and leaving them there for a while (I have seen few people who do this, but in times of need, it’s always a choice) and this will make the petals release their properties. If you wash your face and hair with it, you will start seeing a difference in quality within a few weeks. The rose petals are also anticoagulant and for that use you have to clean the petals, smash them and apply to the wound. Some say it’s better to just apply the petal tea to it, but I think it’s a better idea not to pour water directly into open wounds, for the sake of the wounded.
I find the rose specially connected to mothers, because it helps you care for your children and partner. It will also relieve muscle stiffness as it has relaxing properties -something mothers need a lot.