Remembrance Day: A Time of Anglobitch Hypocrisy

In Britain, November 11 is the annual Day of Remembrance for military personnel who died in the two world wars. That date marks the end of World War One, in which Britain lost a million men, the heaviest losses in its long history (though the medieval Wars of the Roses and later English Civil War killed a much higher proportion of its citizens). Poppies are duly worn by all and sundry and wreaths are laid at The Cenotaph and other important public buildings. In Britain and the Commonwealth (Canada, Australia and New Zealand) that conflict has the same impact on the public psyche as America's Civil War - a disastrous 'war to end all wars'.


The warrior's craft is intrinsically respectable and the bravery of Anglo-American troops commendable. Indeed, some military organizations from the Anglosphere have won eternal renown - England's New Model Army and the Confederacy's Army of Northern Virginia, to name but two. However, in the present socio-political context it must be said that no credible MRA should consider military service as a career option, for a number of reasons I will outline.

While First World War German recruitment posters emphasised comradeship and national responsibility, Anglosphere recruiting posters invoked women - appropriately enough, given Anglo-Saxon deference to women and their ubiquitous exaltation on pedestals. Further, women are a fitting symbol of the Anglosphere, since the Anglo-Saxon world is essentially a matriarchy in all respects - women have all the rights, no responsibilities and receive preferential treatment in education, before the law and throughout the media.

Despite the Anglo-Saxon focus on women in recruiting posters and other propaganda, Anglo women are notable for their absolute indifference to returning 'heroes'. Of course, this is a function of their sexual selfishness and unconscious contempt for men. When soldiers return home, where are those cheering, flag-waving maidens? The English World War One poet Wilfred Owen summed them up well:

Disabled

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim, -
In the old times, before he threw away his knees.
Now he will never feel again how slim
Girls' waists are, or how warm their subtle hands.
All of them touch him like some queer disease.

There was an artist silly for his face,
For it was younger than his youth, last year.
Now, he is old; his back will never brace;
He's lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry,
And half his lifetime lapsed in the hot race
And leap of purple spurted from his thigh.

One time he liked a blood-smear down his leg,
After the matches, carried shoulder-high.
It was after football, when he'd drunk a peg,
He thought he'd better join. - He wonders why.
Someone had said he'd look a god in kilts,
That's why; and maybe, too, to please his Meg,
Aye, that was it, to please the giddy jilts
He asked to join. He didn't have to beg;
Smiling they wrote his lie: aged nineteen years.

Germans he scarcely thought of; all their guilt,
And Austria's, did not move him. And no fears
Of Fear came yet. He thought of jewelled hilts
For daggers in plaid socks; of smart salutes;
And care of arms; and leave; and pay arrears;
Esprit de corps; and hints for young recruits.
And soon, he was drafted out with drums and cheers.

Some cheered him home, but not as crowds cheer Goal.
Only a solemn man who brought him fruits
Thanked him; and then enquired about his soul.

Now, he will spend a few sick years in institutes,
And do what things the rules consider wise,
And take whatever pity they may dole.
Tonight he noticed how the women's eyes
Passed from him to the strong men that were whole.
How cold and late it is! Why don't they come
And put him into bed? Why don't they come?


Let all young fellows consider these lines well. Anglo women won't reward a returning soldier with sex, especially if he is crippled or mentally damaged. Instead, they will handle him like a 'queer disease' (if they stoop to touching him at all). In Germany after World War One (and some experts consider Germany a part of the Anglosphere), young whores were stepping over legless heroes begging on the side-walk, for all their medals. More recently - last week, in fact - we had more evidence of the Anglo-American female's profound gratitude for male military sacrifice:

Wolverhampton cenotaph vandal's mum billed for £780

A mum who shopped her daughter for vandalising a war memorial was landed with a £780 bill to remove the obscene graffiti yesterday. The 14-year-old girl was given a nine-month referral order after admitting she sprayed the memorial with bright pink graffiti - daubing a crudely-drawn penis and the words "I love Luke x".

But after the case Royal British Legion volunteer worker Mike Morris claimed the sentence was too soft. Mike, 69, said: "Really she's not had a punishment, it's her mum that's had to bear it."

Veterans were reduced to tears by the damage to Wolverhampton's cenotaph last month. The girl was caught when her mum found a paint can in her bag. Passing sentence at the city's youth court, JP Sandy Gough told the girl: "I think it's a despicable act that you did at the memorial."

The girl, who cannot be named, said: "I'm disgusted with myself."

SOURCE: The UK Daily Mirror

Of course, that is just how women are. We cannot blame rats for living in a sewer. However, the self-aware Anglo-American male can use his knowledge of their selfish iniquity to negotiate a more constructive lifestyle for himself - one that avoids the tender mercies of the Anglobitch. Instead of wasting his time defending the misandrist Anglosphere, he must withdraw all consent from Anglo-American civilization and turn to new, foreign horizons for life, work and sex.

Increased male singleness across the Anglosphere has opened men's eyes to female insolence and ingratitude. When males were married or in relationships (or at least sought those outcomes) they could hardly afford such clear-eyed objectivity. However, the 'new male realism' has fed a number of post-feminist agendas, including the Men's Rights Movement. The old Anglo propaganda exhorting men to defend 'precious' Anglobitches is certainly wearing very thin - since female approval no longer matters, smart middle-class men across the Anglosphere now consider military 'White Knighting' the height of folly.

Indeed, those Anglo nations with active military commitments are lowering intellectual requirements for new inductees to near-subnormal levels. Not only is the Anglosphere witnessing a Marriage Strike in response to feminism, but quite possibly an Intelligence Strike too (somewhat akin to the elite's 'opt-out' in Ayn Rand's magnificent Atlas Shrugged).

Simply put, smart Anglo-American guys are no longer willing to risk life and limb for ungrateful, misandrist Anglobitches who despise men and deface war memorials. The word is out, as with marriage and chivalry: stay on the outside, never commit. In any case, contemporary wars to defend the Anglosphere are wars to defend matriarchal misandry, a Kulturkampf directed specifically against men. Why should men take part? It's women's agenda, let them fight for it. As ever for the Anglo-American male, progress depends on unlearning everything he has been told about Anglo women.