The Clumsy, Big-Headed Front in the Culture War

Pundits of all stripes are falling all over each other trying to be the firstest or the loudest decrying the Redskins finally caving in to the demands of the Woke Mob to end their nearly 90-year tradition.  The clever-clever crowd ha also started taking bets on which mascot they will fail to effectively defend next with the Cleveland Indians, Texas Rangers, and even the Fighting Irish all in the running.

Even as they acknowledge the major point of all this talk, they complete miss the foundational assumption.  To whit:

This isn’t about mascots. It’s about tradition. Namely, American tradition.

(Brief aside: The European method of naming teams is hyper boring.  Galaxy?  Real?  Total snooze-fests.  Appropriate for the sport in question, but not the way of my People.)

The mascots are just one more front in a wider cultural war.  They, like the statue topplers and the church burners, are a symptom of a deeper rot – a loud and obnoxious hyper-minority who hates the American way of life and the American people, and are determined to do everything in their power to undermine any and all signs of an American culture.  The pioneer spirit was jettisoned back in the 1960s when the tastemakers decided that we were in fact a nation of immigrants.  These are methods by which we pay respect to our vanquished foes.  We pay tribute to their nobility, those whose ancestors vanquished foes of their own and chose to erase their memory from human knowledge.  We do so by honoring them and remembering their heroic and valiant, though ultimately doomed, resistance to our own heroic and valiant ancestors who tamed this land and brought to it the salvific grace of God’s mercy.

And that’s the crux of the matter – they don’t hate the Redskin name – they hate what we love.  Nothing, not even something as trivial as a team mascot, can be allowed to remain to remind the world of the American culture and shared history.  The newcomers little understand or care for such things.  They have an Internationale to sing and gulags to build and entire peoples to genocide via starvation.  Such reminders of the American spirit only get in the way.  And so, like statues of our Blessed Virgin Mary, they must be tossed on the ash-heap of history.

“You have no culture,” they chant as they set fire to all we hold dear.

This is what the Death Cult always does to secure a victory through backstabbery that they could never achieve through open conflict.  Demoralization is the name of the game, here.  A little bit from Schuman, writing about communist strategy way back in 1984 (heh).

Not for true reform, but as a means of attacking your very identity.  To encourage you to give up without a fight.

To stiffen your spine, remind yourself that they thought this would happen in 10-20 years.  The robust nature of the American culture has steadfastly resisted for nearly 60 years, and we have another 160 years of resistance within us at a minimum.  Hold fast.  The economic zombies have been after us for decades and we have not fallen.  Trust in God, Country, Nation, and Family, and we will resist for decades to come.  All this hullaballoo you see on the news?  That’s the rage-filled scream of the desperate, not the cold and calculating action of a serious threat to America.

Hold fast.

Sports is not my hill on which to fight.  Let the fans of the teams fight this one, and let them know that they have my support.

My hill is sci-fi and fantasy, down which I roll grenades into the massed forces of the sexual predators who dominate the NYC Publishing culture.  We have established a perimeter around the hill of adventure fiction, and recaptured ground long lost to the perverts who live beneath the shadow of Damon Knight.  If you’d like to lend a little support, I recommend this latest bomb.  The Penultimate Men presents a collection of post-apocalyptic works that revolve around rising from the ashes of destruction and building something better.  Get yourself a hard copy from  You won’t regret it.