On the Alt-Right and Being Your Own Man

This Evil Has Many Axes

You’re reading a guy who spent half a decade languishing in one of the internet’s ghetto’s, poking the proto-SJWs until they finally ran him off for not conforming to the “Diversity Uber Alles” party line.  After a few months of wandering the internet wilderness, he somehow lucked into the counter-culture of disaffected types who happily dwell somewhere in that smeared venn-diagram that encapsulates the manosphere, alt-right, Trump Train, and OSR* gaming of both the RPG and wargaming variety.

A year or so later, I’m in the best shape of my life, working on a second (and third!) career, own a house, and am enjoying a new found freedom to let my little light shine on like a harvest moon.

Say what you want about a Cernovich’s hucksterism or Vox’s aloof megalomania or even a Roosh’s hedonism, those guys have done more to encourage a rock solid delta like me to push harder and get better, than all the SJW types put together. 

Forget John Galt, those guys are working like the devils to show me how to cut my Harrison Bergeron chains, all the while the Diana Moon Glampers of the world, like the one shown in the photo above, are busy cocking shotguns.  The alt right pushes average Joes to get better for themselves while the SJWs demand people get worse for their the sake of others.

The great part about the alt-right is the genuine diversity it contains.  You get everybody from raw hedonists to near Puritanical “white buns => white ovens” and hard-core Catholics who look askance at this new-age Vatican II silliness.  Aside from the sort of good natured head-butting between guys who subscribe to differing subcultures – the sort that occurs any time a group of guys gets together – the divisions matter far less than the common thread of, “Be your own man,” that runs through the lot of them.

Yeah, everybody is selling their own brand, but purity just ain’t our bag, baby.

So which one am I?  Like most guys in the counter-culture, I’m me.  The sense you get from reading most commenters in the various blogs is that everybody picks and chooses and builds their own identity that incorporates elements of each one.  In short, every man in the movement is his own man.  You can bet there’s more variety even among the Vile Faceless Minions of the Supreme Dark Lord than there is at any BLM meeting.

That’s just the sort of not-really-group that a horde of not-really-much-of-a-joiner types can get into.

We’ll leave the purity tests for the libertarians.

*Old School Renaissance.  Google it.

About Jon Mollison

Jon Mollison was weaned at the literary knee of Tolkein, Howard, Moore, and Burroughs. He spent decades wandering in the wilderness of modern genre fiction, wondering when the magic and wonder went out of the world of dragons and space ships. In his darkest hour, he encountered a wise man who handed him the open secrets to crafting works that emulate the stories of the great authors who built the genre. They are easily summarized in but two words: Regress Harder. Now one of the twelve champions of the Pulp Revolution, his self-published works represent a more direct lineage to the tales of action, mystery, romance, virtue, and pure unalloyed adventure than the bland imitations churned out by New York City publishing houses in recent decades.
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