Punk Rock Is Dead
and we're all Palestinians now.
Some really depressing video emerged from an incident at the Punk Rock Bowling festival in Las Vegas this week where a middle-age man made the unforgiveable fashion choice of showing up wearing a motorcycle club t-shirt with the SS logo on the back. I understand the man’s confusion at being attacked, since he was probably from the gen-x era when the counterculture actually embraced a bit of edginess instead of rigid ideological conformity, soy lattes and gender confusion. The people who self-identify as punks these days apparently consist of what we used to refer to as the Hot Topic crowd, and this transition from DIY chaos to commercial sterilization is what caused most of the old punks to become disillusioned and eventually leave the scene entirely. Ironically enough many of these expats chose off-grid homesteading lifestyles and achieved the ultimate form of rebellion by out-hipping the hippies. Meanwhile the scene evolved into a glorified Instagram filer with music about as inspiring as the Paw Patrol theme. Influencers can slide in and out of the “identity” whenever they need to spice things up for the simps that pay their bills. The whole point of the excluded excluding the excluders was lost.
For years I continued to hold on to the hope that the DIY spirit would return someday with no-name bands taking over abandoned warehouses after the next real estate crash, but the scene officially died for me in 2020 when Jello Biafra posted a video of himself taking the Government Flu shot. Over the next year most of my former anti-heroes bent the knee to corporate evil in order to get their “freedom” back, all the while browbeating the rest of us to behave like good little boys and girls and do what the government says. Or else.
It was also around that time the whole Nazi obsession started up. Intelligence agencies launched the Summer of Love psyop in order to harness the public’s frustration of having their lives hijacked by an obvious pandemic hoax and direct it toward an invisible enemy in order to sew chaos and overthrow the upcoming presidential election. The lack of actual Nazis didn’t matter, since the meaning of that word was quickly altered into a weapon against anyone who wasn’t 100 percent on board with the goals of the corporate color revolution. The Marxist magical power of turning anyone who disagreed with them into the worst people on earth produced highly addictive rage endorphins, and soon mobs were forming to burn down cities, assault senior citizens, and even murder people when possible. Meanwhile Soros-funded DA’s and an army of NGO’s stood by to make sure there was no accountability, thereby guaranteeing that the violence and chaos could carry on all the way through election season.
The beatdown in Las Vegas this week was the moral equivalent of a bunch of meth addicts revisiting their roles as state-sponsored terrorists in order to score some free drugs. What a shame that the Antifa kids forgot to wear their masks this time, especially now that the Feds are no longer looking the other way and doxing is has become a legitimate debate tactic (thanks to the radical Leftists). I imagine some of the attackers will be getting pink slips if not charges in the near future, not to mention the kind of treatment that makes one consider actually leaving the country. One of the most destructive characteristics of drug abusers is that they get into the habit of making bad decisions that feel really good at the time, only to wake up one day (if they are lucky) being forced to confront how badly they have destroyed their own lives. On the other hand plenty of them are down to take the express lane straight to the grave. They don’t want to be helped, and you shouldn’t waste any time trying to help them.
The really sad thing is that white kids have some very legitimate things to be angry about these days, specifically the fact that they are being genocided. We learned that much by the media’s reaction to the South African immigrants and Trump’s “ambush” of President Cyril Ramaphosa this week in the Oval Office. It’s a well established fact by any measure that the ANC is in the process of ethnically cleansing their country, and when mainstream media treats mass-murder as some sort of cultural misunderstanding then it should be obvious to everyone that the Great Replacement isn’t going to stop once they get enough votes to stay in power forever. Of course this also means the ruling class will eventually be purged as well, but they are far too concerned with getting arrested for treason at the moment and are desperately grasping at anything that might buy them a little extra time to maneuver.
All that being said, I’m very grateful to be living out in the middle of the Pacific as the world groans under the strain of the approaching Saturn Neptune conjunction and the hard reset that it indicates. Even though Hawaii is contending with our own version of an entrenched communist regime the majority of locals still possess the inherent survival instinct that comes with living in an archipelago. The first rule is simple: Never start a civil war on an island because there’s nowhere to run. History shows that island wars often become wars of attrition where most people end up dead, if not from the constant retaliatory skirmishes themselves then from the starvation and diseases that follow. It’s true that we have our fair share of delusional leftists who would rather die in a fire than admit they are wrong, but most locals know who the real enemy is and have lots of practice inventing new work-arounds to diminish the influence of the billionaire class.
The other benefit of living out here is that I understand what it’s like to be a minority, and I also have a unique opportunity to pass along some bits of Western Civilization that will hopefully prove to be useful for future generations. My particular brand of traditional occultism was never really popular among the dying new-age scene that wore out it’s welcome by chasing modern fads, so thankfully the old-school philosophy still has some serious fetishization potential once the perception of scarcity elevates it’s value. A lot of hard work will be required on my part to pass on the wisdom of the ancients as accurately as possible, but given the pace of the mRNA mass die-off it’s possible that one day I could be the only haole left who knows about this stuff. My game needs to be a lot tighter if the intention is to do my ancestors some justice, but it’s pretty clear after the synchronicities of the past few months that I no longer have a choice in the matter. Not unless I really enjoy suffering, which I don’t!
In the meantime let me make something abundantly clear to anyone who still doesn’t get the larger implications of embracing race war, and especially those who have been brainwashed into wiping out their own heritage. Right now it’s not your melanin content that matters, nor your language, religion, or the geographic location that you most strongly associate with. If you are reading this (and not a robot) then you are meat for the grinder. Palestine is the new model for humanity: surround, encroach, exterminate. We can’t beat the system playing by the rules, but we can out-weird the system by becoming unpredictable and therefore ungovernable. Rigid ideology and group-think are the traps which the hunter uses to ensnare us, and therefore we all need to finding something personally meaningful that reduces our participation in the collective insanity and build up our competence in that endeavor as quickly as possible.
Sometimes it takes a while for us to realize and accept the mission that the gods have chosen for us, but you will know when you’ve hit pay-dirt because of the systemic resistance. Officials will despise you and Normies will shun you, but your fellow weirdos on the path will quietly smile and nod. When enough of us start taking consistent steps towards freedom and stop participating in the democide then the real rebellion can begin. Feel free to choose the soundtrack that suits your revolution best.
As an old weirdo, perhaps I can contribute to the egregore of the upcoming survivor generation. I do an awful lot of dreamwork these days, because that's what happens. Sounds to me like you're operating with accurate perspective. What a relief to read!
Good to know I've achieved the "ultimate rebellion", having dropped out of the punk scene in 1983 and turning over the promotion of DIY local shows to another so I could move to the country and raise dairy goats. Still have the goats. Still have that punk attitude. Still doing my best to be ungovernable.