The Smell of Desperation

It isn’t working and they know it.

It’s gotten so bad out there that you’re even seeing NormiCons calling for Americans to turn their backs on the foreign movies churned out by Hollywood.  They’re calling for more films by conservative film-makers for conservative movie goers.  Likewise with Marvel comics, Netflix shows (have you cancelled your subscription yet?), and a host of others.

Mind you, they are still stuck in the enemy’s frame of reference.  They won’t actively search the new crop of creatives for current projects already in the works.  Instead, they want a few new Mel Gibson’s to spring fully formed from the forehead of the MGM lion.  That’s not a reasonable or realistic hope, but it’s a start.  The scales are starting to fall from their eyes, and the bottom up cultural flow away from globalism and toward Americanism is happening whether they like it or not.

Because we’re better than that, here’s a couple quick links to projects succeeding on their own merits, by men laboring in the trenches, without help from the boys with the megaphone too big to share with the little guys:

  • Yesterday’s thumbs-up to Rob Kroese’s Counterfeit Sorceror for one.
  • Josh Howard’s T-Bird and Throttle is up to Book 3 of 4.  The first half of the series had big adventure, a light touch of pathos, and one of the best father-daughter relationships you’ve seen in media in a long time.
  • Philo’s adventures continue in the third book of the Yankee Republic series.  Fenton Wood is writing a new kind of Fantasy Americana unlike anything ever done before.  It’s a bit like Devil’s Dictum, but with a lot less cynicism and a lot more hope.  Imagine if Lake Woebegone was set on the East Coast and written by a young Harry Turtledove channeling the ghost of Robert Heinlein.  Or a more gonzo version of The Mad Scientist Club.
  • If you prefer giant stompy robots to cozy vacuum tube alt-history, then give your money to somebody that doesn’t hate you – Brian Neimeier’s Combat Frame X-Seed delivers the goods with that undercurrent of faith, hope, and charity that distinguishes real sci-fi from the pink slime vomited onto the market by the chuds who live and work in New York City.
  • The explicit Catholocism of the heroes of John C. Wright’s Nowhither shine like a beacon in the long dark night of sci-fi.  The WhitherVerse is an epic and sprawling multi-verse that all hinges on one unkillable nerdy lummox and his infatuation with the wrong woman.  As usual.

Truly, our cup runneth over.  Every black pill that you see contains a white kernel of truth that should remind you of the increasing desperation of Team Locust.  Three short years ago, they thought that had us beat, that their final victory was at hand, and now they have to resort to ever more brazen stunts to maintain the illusion of control.

They can write as many fascists out of their books that they want – their monopoly is at an end.  We have our alternatives.  Do your part to make them successful despite the deafening silence by the whiners of media’s designated political Washington Generals.

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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