The Greatness of Henry Ford Was in His DNA

I’m reading My Life and Work by Henry Ford. It’s important to read the autobiographies of GREAT MEN: primary sources being superior to secondary ones, generally speaking.

In a revealing part of the story, he discusses the first time he ever witnessed a machine other than a horse-drawn carriage. He was sitting on a wagon with his father when he saw a primitive road engine passing by. Ford—only 12 at the time—was mesmorized. Without any coaxing, he approached the engineer and began asking questions in order to learn more:

The engine had stopped to let us pass with our horses and I was off the wagon and talking to the engineer before my father, who was driving, knew what I was up to.

Nobody pushed him to learn more…he did it himself. No social programs were created to help him “find his passion”: the passion was already inside of him. In short, nature is stronger than nurture. You have a destiny with greatness or you don’t.

Note that many children would be apathetic in the same scenario. They’d be dreaming of a toy, staring at a cloud, or thinking of a fantasy. Others would be interested, but would remain seated. But not Henry Ford. He was pro-active, jumping at the opportunity to challenge his intellect.

The greatness of Henry Ford was written in his DNA.

See Related Article: You Either Have Ambition or You Don’t

You Have to Support the Prejudice of Your Spouse If You Want to Stay Happily Married

Everybody has a prejudice. For some, it might relate to a group of people: blacks, whites, Jews, Muslims, etc. For others, it might relate to a topic: abortion, adoption, patriotism, etc. The prejudice comes from years of personal experience. And by the time that person becomes an adult, the prejudice becomes ingrained in their personality. If you remove the prejudice of the individual, you remove an important aspect of their personality.

Again, everybody has at least ONE prejudice.

If you want to stay happily married, you have to support the main prejudice of your partner. You can’t play the contrarian: “Yes honey, but…” Or, “I don’t think you’re considering the following…” Only a fool would contradict their spouse in this regard.

They supported the prejudices of one another for 50 years

My wife has a prejudice against a certain group of people. But she is not alone…every woman that I’ve dated has had a prejudice of some sort! So I never contradict her. I either agree with her or remain silent. And she does the same for me; she understands the bias I have on certain topics and she never contradicts me in this regard.

The secret to marriage is being able to respect the discrimination and bigotry that lies in your partner.

Relationship experts will tell you the opposite. They’ll tell you to overcome your bias, to live in a cotton-candy universe. They’ll repeat the globalist agenda of the day…all the while ignoring the realities of marriage. In short, they reserve the right to be secretly prejudiced, yet they want you to remove yours.

Remember: If you want to stay happily married, you have to support the prejudice of your partner.

See Related Article: What’s the Most Pathetic Love Song of All Time?

In Appreciation of “Sleepwalk”

Todd Clayton does a great job on this version of “Sleepwalk”: a classic instrumental tune that conjures up feelings of tranquility, desire and sadness. I remember the first time I heard the song. It transfixed me and I was drawn into its web. The popularity of the song shows that I am not alone in that sentiment.

Enjoy your Saturday, my friends. Remember that God is good…even if the world if often clouded with darkness.

See Related Article: The Grunge Musician Was a Puppet for the Globalist Agenda

Hitler’s Bar Mitzvah

I’ve noticed that conspiracy theories are like a drug addiction. It starts with a little hit….a small injection on a Friday night. Perhaps an enthralling two hours of JFK by Oliver Stone. The mystery leaves you with a cerebellum rush! But then addiction deepens. You start overdosing on false flag theories, Reptillian shape shifters, and space aliens in Egypt.

From there, it’s a only a short jump to another outlandish theory – Hitler was Jewish. I’ve heard this bandied about on the internet. And the other night, a neighbor of mine repeated this idea. I just nodded (it’s best not to disagree with people you see on a regular basis). Save the arguments for things that matter!

I’ve actually read Mein Kampf. And from that book, it’s pretty clear that Hitler hated the Jewish people. He discusses  – in great detail – the reason behind his hatred. He provides a number of examples, anecdotes, etc. But nowhere in the book does he mention a Jewish uncle, a bar mitzvah, or a circumcision. His autobiography, not to mention the history of WW2, should be ample proof that he hated the Jews.

We could discuss the implications of the theory in detail. Was WW2 a globalist hoax? Was Hitler a planted stooge, put into power by the world banking industry? Or was the entire war a theatrical front…an event that never even existed? All of these questions are pointless, of course.

Conspiracy theories are rarely about the conspiracy; they’re mostly about the theorist and his quest for power.

The conspiracy theorist is trying to subvert your knowledge. He’s trying to convince you that your ideas cannot be trusted. To use a Manosphere term, he’s trying to gaslight you. By inserting false information about the past, he can make you question your own sanity. And when the confusion reigns, he can assert his power over you.

Now I’m not stubborn or pig-headed. I’m willing to learn new things, or to deepen my knowledge. But outlandish theories require proof! We need examples, anecdotes, or studies. We need empirical evidence.

Show me photos of Hitler’s Bar Mitvah and I’ll believe that he was Jewish.

See Related Article: Photos of Dallas: Then and Now

 

On the Birth of Minor Styles (My Son)

Minor Styles arrived on Saturday. My wife was feeling dizzy so we went to the doctor to check it out. After a series of exams, we heard the news – the umbilical cord was choking Minor Styles. Long story short…time for an emergency C-Section.

The good news: I have a healthy baby boy. We pulled him out before any damage was done. He is 6.5 pounds and my kingdom has added a noble prince:

Welcome to the world…my prince.

 

On Robbie Robertson’s Version of “Broken Arrow”

Robbie Robertson is not a great singer, per se. Note how most of the vocal duties in The Band were carried by Levon Helm or Rick Danko. However, his voice is serviceable: it’s more of a conversational tone than an operatic one.

However, sometimes a song is just made for a singer…and “Broken Arrow” was made for Robertson.

Sure, Rod Stewart did a great version. And Stewart is the more professional singer with the amazing, raspy tone, etc. (We won’t talk about the Phil Lesh version). I love Phil, but he’s not a singer.

For my money, Robertson’s version is the best one – it has that extra “spark.” And he wrote it after all!

Often times, only the original composer can channel the emotional center of a song.

See Related Article: Is “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac a Song About Stalking?

Richard Wagner on the Difference Between a True Artist and a Journeyman

Words from the master, Richard Wagner:

“The true artist finds delight not only in the aim of his creation, but also in the very process of creation, in the handling and moulding of his material. The very act of production is to him a gladsome, satisfying activity…” 

So what is the artist…very simple! Like Wagner said, the “true artist” is a man that delights in the process of creation. His poetry is the reflection of a lofty soul; his opera is the heroism of an UberMan. His canvas is the infinite imagination.

The great artist is a GREAT MAN. He is Bach, Beethoven and Shakespeare. By his work, he affirms the summit of human potential. Generations pay tribute to his art: they visit the house that he was born, the bed in which he slept, etc. His life history will become a source of inspiration.

The great artist is a GREAT MAN. He is Bach, Beethoven and Shakespeare.

And what of the journeyman? The degenerate postmodern. The huckster of socialism, communism and feminism. The money-grubbing hack!

Wagner spells that out for us:

“The journeyman reckons only the goal of his labour, the profit which his toil shall bring him; the energy which he expends, gives him no pleasure…he is never present with his work in spirit, but always looking beyond it to its goal…”

The journeyman is a prostitute. He does the art for money – not for love. Don’t be confused by the momentary success…by the applause that he gains from a corrupted press. He’ll be forgotten soon enough! When his job is done, he’ll be cast in the fires of anonymity.

The next whore will take his place.

See Related Article: Richard Wagner on the Difference Between Greek and Roman Art

Richard Wagner on the Difference Between Greek and Roman Art

Richard Wagner has a fantastic essay called “Art and Revolution” (1849). The very idea is ahead of its time, for we now understand that modern art (as well as postmodern) were used to undermine the foundations of Western civilization. For the essay however, Wagner writes about the artwork of two great civilizations: Greek and Roman. He champions the Greek approach to art, while ridiculing the Roman expression.

He begins by praising the drama of ancient Greece:

“The deeds of gods and men, their sufferings, their delights…here they became actual and true. For all that in them moved and lived, as it moved and lived in the beholders, here found its perfected expression…such was the Grecian people in its highest truth and beauty.”

Well put. The complexity of Grecian drama is readily apparent. While other cultures were throwing mud at one another, the Greeks were performing elaborate plays: music, costumes, and brilliant prose! It’s little wonder that they are held in such high esteem.

The brilliance of the Greek theater is held in high regard…and rightfully so!

He then mocks the debased entertainment of ancient Rome; in particular, the bloodthirsty events of the Colosseum:

“…they opened not to the gods and heroes of the ancient myths, nor to the free dancers and singers of the sacred choirs! No! Wild beasts, lions, panthers and elephants, must tear themselves to pieces in their amphitheatres, to glut the Roman eye; and gladiators, slaves trained up to the due pitch of strength and agility, must satiate the Roman ear with the hoarse gulp of death.”

Good points.

Truth be told, this is not art. 

Wagner is forcing me rethink my opinions on history.  Truth be told, I’ve always had a preference for Roman culture over Greek. I love the stoic philosophies, the sordid plays, and the iconic architecture. Perhaps I’ve been influenced (in a subtle or direct way) by the historical fictions of Hollywood.

The Major has always had a preference for Roman culture…but Wagner is making me rethink my position.

Wagner makes a valid argument; Greek drama was on a superior level and it should never be compared to a degenerate display of entertainment. Remember that art is a high expression of humanity; the display of a great mind and spirit. We should always revere its power…to hold it in high regard! For art is what separates the Prince from a plebeian and the great civilization from a forgotten one.

Once a culture begins to celebrate degenerate art, it soon becomes degenerate as well.

See Related Article:  The Soft Genocide

 

A Classic Response On “To the Man Who Will Love Me” (Ode to HullViking75)

A writer named Hullviking75 has a wonderful way with words. One of his greatest tirades can be found  in the “comment” section of a recent article on Thought Catalog: the article is called “To the Man Who Will Love Me”. For those who don’t know, Thought Catalog is a left-wing site that specializes in feminist word salad.

Here’s a little of the original article: Take notes, men…if you wanna date the author, you’ll need to learn the following:

1. Be kind.

My heart is fragile and has been hurt many times before. Know that I am a Cancer which means that I cry, I hide in my shell, and I feel more than anyone else.

---

2. Be gentle.

Speak to me softly. Push my hair off of my face. Lightly touch my cheek and gently kiss my hand. Be gentle with your actions and gentle with your words. Remember that I am sensitive, which means that my heart is also fragile.

There’s more to the  list: seven items in total. But I’ll spare you the details. In short, the writer (named Elizabeth Ryan) has a list of demands for the prospective suitor!

Here was hullviking75’s response...flipping the script as it were:

(clears throat) TO THE BIRD WHO WILL LOVE ME NEXT…

1. BE UNDRESSED
When I come home from work, be ready in the boudoir, completely nude, smothered in exotic, sensual oils; moan like Donna Summer to show your appreciation of my lovemaking skills. Women have treated me like dirt, see, so by the law of averages, you will be different.
2. BE COMPLIANT
Dress as a bunny-girl to feed me spoonfuls of exotic fruit; sing softly to me Minnie Riperton’s ‘Loving You’ as you run your fingers through my chest hair, for I was born under the sign of Cancer too and my ego needs stroking every bit as much as yours, probably more so.
3. REMIND ME THAT I AM THE KING OF YOUR UNIVERSE
See, sometimes, I forget what a great guy I am and it’s your duty to remind me. I really am the best game in town and don’t you forget it, babe. And I look absolutely fucking great! Sit at my feet as you waft me with a palm leaf on hot summer nights and I’ll remind you just how lucky you are to have me.
4. BE PATIENT
There are, you see, things in my past that… Ah, you don’t want to know. Sniff… Just gimme a minute to compose myself… I’ll be all right… Really… Hey, I’m sensitive, okay? As a Cancerian too, and a man – meaning anything you can do, I can do better -, I can cry you under the table, and you’ll have to mollify me. You’ll have to make the world go away, get it off of my shoulder, say the things you used to say, and make the world go away. I don’t know if I can ever trust a woman again and that’s your responsibility to ameliorate. I am a Cancerian and therefore as delicate as a porcelain figurine, so you’d better be good to me or I just might end it all and on your head be it. You might think you’re Ophelia, but I’ll see you and raise you one.
5. ACCEPT THAT I’M A SELFISH GIT
I love steak Diane, moules mariniere, wild mushroom veloute, salted caramel cheesecake, all washed down with lashings of Southern Comfort… So be a good girl and get me these things – like, NOW!
6. BE CONSIDERATE
I need it. I crave it. Slippers warmed in front of the fire. Make me a hot toddy when I get the man flu. Bankrupt yourself treating me on my birthday. Pick fruits of the forest and bake me pies with a song in your heart. Read to me my favourite D.H. Lawrence novels. Send me a surprise to the office where I work so that my colleagues can witness first hand just how much you think the sun shines out of my arse. Make up a playlist of all the songs that remind me of you, like ‘Under My Thumb’, ‘Peaches’, ‘Whole Lotta Love’ and ‘I Can See for Miles’. Fondle me as I drive. (Bleep) me in the rain and then tuck me up in bed with tea, lemon and honey to ward off the consequences. Climb up to my room with a box of chocolates and a rose between your teeth, because I love dopey gestures too and now that we’re all equal, it’s your turn. Tell me how I fill up your senses, like a night in a forest. Love me as though your whole life depended on it. Take me on a starlight ride through Jupiter and Mars. Swear your undying devotion to me in front of a paying audience so they can all laugh at you.
7. BE YOURSELF
Be dumb. Be blonde. Be yourself. Be. Just be. But be who I want you to be, which is all you really can be and that’s all that really matters. As long as you serve my every need, that’s all I could ask for. I love you because you’re in my power, but you’re immaterial really; I’m the one that counts. I chose you and you’d better believe it – you cannot get away from me!!!

Now, see how silly you are? Still, I shouldn’t be making mock. Your feelz are all our feelz – we’re all Cancerians now. There’s not a dry eye in the house…

Bwa-ha-ha! Hysterical…LOL.

We have some brilliant people on the internet. We refer to them as shitlords. I give a trophy to HullViking75…wherever he is!

See Related Article: Why Did Bill Nye Become a Feminist?

Is It True That Nobody Cares?

The other day I was listening to a crazy woman. She was ranting about some bullshit, really. Her mouth was moving and the bile was flying out. During her tirade, I was completely apathetic (Zero Fucks Given as they say); moreover, my sentiment was shared by the people that surrounded her – nobody else gave a shit either.

I was happy.  Thank God her words were being ignored! She was talking to the sky, basically…and her complaints were falling into an Ocean of Apathy. But then I realized a horrible thing: the same could be said about me.

That when all is said and done, nobody cares about my passion or my life’s work.

Perhaps the Major is more eloquent, more poetic, etc. But at the end of the day…it might be the same result. Nobody cares. The only people that care about me are my family and a few close friends.

The ax swings both ways….for better and for worse.

See Related Article: It’s Better to Be Simple and Happy Than Complicated and Miserable