Power Cults

Everybody knows about bioleninism, ok. It’s a power cult. It’s a group of people who’ve coalesced around the idea of sacralizing power held by the cult and its leadership.

A cult is when members care about status inside the cult far more than status outside it. They’re willing to look like low-status clowns to outsiders. For a good enough cult, like Islam or the Marine Corps, or the Mafia in the old days, they’ll die. And they won’t betray it. You need them not to betray it.

A good power cult is a hell of a thing. Look at radical Islam: They’ve got garbage for human raw material, but they’re a force to be reckoned with.

We can talk about how it operates, as Spandrell does. But the big question is how do you bootstrap such a thing? How did they get theirs off the ground?

The right has no effective power cults. The USMC is a cult, but not that kind of cult, and it’s not ours either. “Muh 3%” is not a power cult. The right sacralizes principles or goals, which is the dead end western communist parties used to be trapped in, always splitting and squabbling over theology. (btw I think our narrative of the left is a bit wrong: The mutant virulent antifa/tranny strain took over. This isn’t what anybody had in mind in 1965. The American left wasn’t a power cult in 1965).

In a way, that means we’re not evil like Nazis, successful Communists, or the power cult Rod Rosenstein serves, sometimes called the Cathedral. So that’s nice. But we’re losing. It’s probably decades too late to start figuring out how to start organizing, but I guess it beats rotting in front of the TV.



Feminism is the belief that every time some dizzy bitch somewhere in the world has a negative emotion, somebody, somewhere, should be made to pay until she feels better. The punishment could range from mild annoyance to prison time; the details don’t matter.

The fact that they’re the source of their own negative emotions, and that nothing ever makes them feel better anyway, are the least of the many problems with this idea.

Feminism is the radical and self-refuting notion that women are adults.

“In days of gold we dreamed on the heather”

Fine verse from Lucius Somesuch.

“Tonight we writhe in highwaisted pleather…”


A poem written by Lucius Somesuch, originally posted by him at Chateau Heartiste and in the comments on my blog yesterday. 

In days of gold we dreamed on the heather
Beneath Heaven’s broad splendor that brightly shone.
Tonight we writhe in highwaisted pleather
Frantically doing things best left undone.

My locks are coiffed to tres chic perfection,
My alabaster limbs with glitter flicker.
My glassy gaze gives strangers an erection,
My thoughts are distant, on liquor, twitter.

Time threatens furrows, the prudes would warn me
And Beauty’s prime prances ‘fore an open grave,
And the Air’s Dark Prince muses to harm me,
But the beat goes on, and tonight I rave.

What have I to do with maidenly prudence
Or with the matron’s fond worrisome cares?
Why should I sit all alone and rue? Dance!
I’ve got left before me many fine years!

The Invisible Worm wings on the blast

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Hamster on Two Wheels

So I’m at the BMV this morning getting my motorcycle endorsement on my license, and when I leave there’s this poor hopeless fat girl with short hair sitting there with a 3/4 helmet (looks hip, if you don’t mind shattering your teeth, nose, and jaw in a crash). I get out the front door and the only thing in the lot with two wheels is a shiny new red Stella scooter with a temp vanity plate that says “DAMSEL”.

Cute little scoot, for a girl. But… “DAMSEL”… I’m sure she was a perfectly nice girl, within the limits imposed by her environment, but… oh, Jeez.