Negation of Self, Desolation of Soul

Lately, I have had a lot of thoughts about what the typical family life is and was like for the average White Gen Y. The bulk of my growing up was in the faux-boom of the 1990s, the last misleading spark of a dying era and civilisation, leading into the mild delirium that was the 2000s. My family was a fairly regular demographic blip on the radar: Ranging from between lower middle, middle, then to slightly upper middle class, mostly established within suburbia, caucasian, with two children, a boy and girl.

If there's a ying and yang in a family's siblingry, I was always the more quietly introverted and perceptive to my elder sister's explosively extravagant extroversion. Of course, both of these have these strengths, but, judging from my and others' experiences, I think there's a tendency towards older sisters resenting younger brothers for the parental shift of attention, the female ego not taking kindly to a new entrant soaking up all of her deserved affection and praise. In other words, having a younger brother is prime breeding ground for a ball-busting cunt.

The strategy of parenting for my full-time working Baby boomer elders was first and foremost, appeasement and distraction. Raising kids was more of an errand to run or delay; plomp him in front of the TV, distract him with video games and action movies, send him off to play a variety of sports he's shit at (and the dad can watch them, and latter boast of how much he hated it but went anyway, so you owe him). There I was surprisingly well behaved for most of my early years, considering how marginal of a punishment I would probably get, but I took to the Western ritualised routine of self-subduction eagerly. In that sense, I embraced the treasures of the depersonalised, self-absorbed materialist world of the consumer. A want unsatiated is just a product away.

As my sister and I grew older, the inter-generational differences became more noticeable. A juxtaposition of baby boomers' detached, greedy idealism and Generation Y's whimpering, near-instinctual desolated nihilism.

I always got the impression I was some kind of obstacle to my dad, a pothole in the road to swerve around, or some street constructions to cross the street from. My old man was the epitomy of the dejected Baby Boomer who embraced a token, perverted representation of the 1960s idealism, fantasies of bohemian Hippydom and smoking weed, and then onto the crack pipe of status and greedy materialism, which in the end, consumed and destroyed him. I learnt one thing from my old man that I think we can all learn from baby boomers, do not let your own decadence or escapism control and ruin your life, because it will. It's certainly doing the same to our society.

My mother was the opposite, an absorber of retarded Oprahian ideals of "the power of love"; unpragmatic, a force unto itself, deluded self-esteem boosting, a dereliction of reason and sense, an unhinged maternality unleashed in a world where true femininity is regarded as an unrestrained raw female emotion.

My parents owned a business which propelled them to financial comfort and then compensated their and our lifestyles consequently, soaking in the consumer, status worshiping lifestyle as a part of themselves, their being.
But then, the whole facade of prosperity came crashing down. Borrowing to pay for new cars, profit diminishing, lifestyle downsizing, and eventually going bankrupt once the house of cards collapses in a new, failed venture. The status driven neo-yuppie Baby Boomer who faces this massive shock to their ego and lifestyle will do one of two things: Break down and disintegrate (father), or take the blows, slow down, and eventually learn and adapt (mother). Either way, once you have that lifestyle, more than likely you will continue to submit to that religion. Especially when you lose it.

Things got worse, I got into a serious fight with the old man, who followed suit by calling the police on me to get me arrested and nearly put in jail, kicked out of home at seventeen without any world-weariness, money and few friends to turn to. A dozen or so separations and re-unions later, my mother followed suit, and slowly rebuilt her life, getting a cushy government job. My old man is the same place he's been for the last five years; unstable, unemployed and a perennial victim.

A few miscarriages later, my sister eventually had a baby with her boyfriend, and then, following suit of my parents, split up and re-united a couple times, only to settle at shared custody in the end. If anyone is holding out any hope for Generation Z, you won't find any optimism from me, the coddling, placating and self-absorptive tendencies of our generation's single mothers leaves much to be desired.

In a sense, my family history is more or less a representation of what plenty of the Young White Male of our times has to face, largely. It may not be as up and down and unstable (or it may be plenty worse), but the trend is consistent: a family with a detached or/and weak father, and an overbearing, over-represented mother, whom society embues with the "You go grrrl" idealism of post-feminist doctrine, all contributing to create an individual disconnected from his world, but on fire inside.

The Foaming Tiber of American Mediocrity

We can observe in the non-American Western world, that there is a subtle kind of cultural client state status to the hyper power. Materialist consumerism conquered and occupies nations worldwide, initiated in a sociological blitzkrieg. Indeed, we are taken by storm... a storm of shit. Endless, unrelenting, smugly self-satisfied shit.

Even as early as the 1920s in America, the seeds of consumerism were being sowed. Jewish marketer Edward Bernays, using the psychological know-how of his uncle Sigmund Freud to combine psychology and marketing to sell cigarettes to women, aligning liberty with smoking, and subconsciously aligning it with a challenge to male power. The power to propagandise was nothing new, but the desire and ability to do so via motivation to profit, this was largely a new phenomenon.

Now, the drive towards a more consumer-centric society might have been the inevitable evolution of surging production, (especially necessitated and began by the Industrial Revolution) a need to offload all these goods  to new markets, right? But the fix has become an addiction. Once the allure of cheap luxury items hit the taste buds of Mr and Mrs America, they were hooked, their palate changed permanently. It used to be more production and less consumption, now its no production and all consumption- to the benefit of certain entities.

All of this fits into a narrative- One of the latest incarnations of an endless will to provide the teeming, bursting masses with sufficient bread and circuses. We are units of labour or production in a neo-Marxist's air castle. A means to an end.

But gadget-fetishism and brand loyalty are not the only tools of subversion at hand, they are more of a vehicle for our compartmentalisation of both our lives and us as entities, a vehicle to distract and hedonize our attentions, and to cheapen and misdirect our characters.

A degenerating culture is one where complaining is a way to get things done. The victim narrative is a powerful cultural force, simply for the fact it encourages the masses to do nothing, and wallow in their socially subsidised, decadent mentality. Though, victimhood comes with a price. In adopting the right to void any responsibility for your actions, you must also resign yourself to a life of whimpering and whinging blanketed in a shallow demonstration of meek niceness (Unless you're a protected minority).

On television, the same tune is played. It is all but a indoctrinarian projector for the aforementioned victimhood narrative, watered down egalitarian ideals, the mangina archetype, models of artificial racial cohesion and miscegenation sponsorship, all  ready to be soaked in by the audience's vicarious eyes. Hollywood churns out a feast of decultured profit-maximisers, with no adequately digestible or unique message, but a series of replications of what has come, each new copy slightly louder and more obvious than the latter.

And what of the personification of all these decadent values and machinations? Generation Zero, castrated and largely disarmed of any connection to their heritage, culture, or even sound discernment, are psychologically cut loose, naive in temperament, to float adrift into a barren, vacant sea of subversive elements and media controlled by a hostile foreign elite, with no solid grasp on reality, no worthwhile role models and perpetual dreams of escape. The worse trait is one that is, to some degree, internalized by most White Westerners but especially in the young Whites, in that everyone, from all cultures, ethnic groups and religions, share the same ideas and ethics and sense of fair play as you, in your naive little corner, do:

How close-minded and racist our elders were! Why can't we all be equal, without reference to something as meaningless as skin colour! Ethnic solidarity my arse, only racist white men believe in that shit! 

Only a violent kick from Reality can obliterate that notion. Or can it?

Invoking the Procrustean approach, generation Y solidarity is dependent on your relative mediocrity to the group.  Because even if you have to lob a few legs and arms off, it's worth the price for equality. Anything that keeps you amidst the ranks of the bumbling herd. Intellectual pursuits are frowned upon or looked on with indifference, but fortunately, boundless hedonism is in.

But it's no wonder that our Generation Y and younger are in such a shabby state in the US, especially. The public education systems present ranges from a mediocrity factory to a leftist teacher's personal experiment (aslong as it is the Party Line, that is).

What of the old American virtues; ideals of liberty, justice and freedom? By subversion, the presence they have in the mainstream has largely morphed into nanny statism, prosecution-by-ideology and political correctness, with only a minority of committed loyalists upholding their true, unraped forms.

Present day America's declining empire may be the epicenter of materialistic individual culture, that has become a synonym for its power, but in a sense, we are all Americans now. For Europeans, being engulfed by the Romans was only a matter of geographical distance or your respective force, but in this age of mass-communications, being culturally conquered by the Judeo-Hollywood complex has proven to only be a matter of time, a matter of degree.

In essence, the American Dream has become a nightmare. If you are the average white American male who works hard, you have the right to have your wealth redistributed to hostile aliens, to get married to a pig who will probably divorce you and force you to pay her until you die, to send your children to a school where they will soon be racial minorities and can be sent home for wearing an American flag t-shirt, pay for a baby-boomer pension ponzi scheme you will probably never get yourself. Americans have been sold a pipedream, and until the masses truly realise that it is a mirage, and they're really in a civilisational desert, will things change.