Cowardice is failure to rise to the occasion. It happens to the best of us; it happens to the worst of us. Hiding behind an avatar and a screen name while blithely applauding the misfortunes of anonymous strangers, however—or wishing misfortune upon them—is lower than cowardice. True, I’m hiding behind an avatar myself, but I’ve got mouths to feed, and I’m not trolling anybody.
I’ve been heavily engaged with alt-right ideas for about five years now. Obviously, and like anything else nowadays, elements of this movement may be controlled opposition, but there’s a certain incredulousness to it as well, and the whole thing seems to portend societal breakdown in ways that are mostly unprecedented in living memory. The alt-right has certainly shed welcome light upon taboo ideas—more often its truths and not its falsehoods are what prove jarring to detractors, and that says a lot. But if the unhinged malice that’s plain to see online among the alt-right rank-and-file were ever to be transmogrified into real world behavior, it would have to be violently discouraged—at least by the likes of this here half-breed, no matter how legitimate the underpinning grievances are. Because I worship the God of the motherfucking Hebrews, and you don’t have to like me.
Speaking of grievances, I defy anyone on the alt-right to read my oeuvre and tell me I’m anti-white or, indeed, that I’m not pro-white; that I defend Jews reflexively or indiscriminately; that I’m in favor of Israeli dependence on US lucre, or of any other unfair transfer of goyische resources into the hands of bnei yisrael; that the respect I show to what is sacred to others of any faith is less than the respect I would ask that others show to mine; that I mischaracterize counter-arguments; that I sympathize one iota with the forces of sexual degeneracy or economic exploitation, or that I am insufficiently vociferous in my support for freedom of conscience and expression. But the alt-right only wants those things for itself—no sensible man would rather be a dissident under a fascist regime than under the present American oligarchy, and alt-right talk about distancing the movement from Blues Brothers-grade Nazism is just that: talk.
There is much of the alt-right worldview that I’ll readily concede. Nevertheless, in aggregate the alt-right is plainly a ressentiment rabble, and the fact is, ninety-nine percent of online political discourse is just lurid entertainment anyway. I like mental exercise as much as the next man, but how much of this shit has anything to do with putting food on the table? You have to be bored out of your gourd and rather empty as a person to want to take political yippity-yap to the next level.
Don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with racism prima facie as a worldview—the idea that there are innate, heritable racial differences and disparities that precede culture and are relevant in social relations. I’m not sure there’s really anyone who doesn’t believe this on some level. So if your skin’s thicker than papier mache you’ve got no excuse for being averse to expressions of racism that aren’t wholly malicious and intended to provoke superfluous violence. The funnier or more well-reasoned, the better, of course. In the famous words of Thomas Jefferson, “There is not a truth existing which I fear or would wish unknown to the whole world.” It is possible for a false narrative to simply be a snippet of truth, framed or decontextualized. But if it’s 100-proof, I say bring it on.
Political anti-Semitism, on the other hand, tends first of all to manifest in the form of prosecutorial briefs (framed) and litanies (decontextualized) worked up to a frothy lather (dopamine), the logic of which veers unmistakably toward physical aggression, so much so that any political anti-Semite who disavows a violent solution is probably either not serious about his ideas, or is being disingenuous about what he’d like to have happen. The conviction that the Jews in toto are the perennial antagonist in world affairs begs the question of what is to be done, and the answers tend to narrow themselves down considerably. So when you view the arrival at this conclusion as fundamental to fully informed civic engagement, you’re putting a target on my back. And you don’t fuckin’ know me. And one of the reasons you don’t know me is because I’ve never done you any harm. But I can, if you’d like.
Now, if you’re some anonymous person out clickity-clacking on the internet, the harm that is liable to accrue to me from your activities is negligible. But over time and in the aggregate, this may not always be the case. If so, you can certainly congratulate yourself for having an impact, and bask a bit in the glory of being a part of something bigger than yourself. You may indeed be part of a thousands-deep movement that’s making its way into the streets and winning scuffles with body-positive Antifa androgynes, but that does me no harm and (unless you’re one of the retweet-counting, shekel-grubbing attention whores leading the movement) it does you no good. So as long as you’re feeling smug about expending energy to make yourselves known in this manner, you’ll get no objection from me. Hell, I’ll fight for your right to assemble and have your say non-violently. If you’re attacked, by all means, defend yourselves—I don’t care against whom. But every one of those “kikes to the gas” comment threads that sticks in my craw is a chicken that’ll be home to roost the minute you ask for it in the real world. Because I’ve been there.