Friday, September 29, 2017

Ep 10 Charlottesville & Trails

Welcome to Episode 10 of the Crackpot Podcast.  This is the last episode taped prior to James' trip and this is the first time I have nothing on deck since we started this.  If you are a fan of the podcast, please note that we are planning to resume taping once our schedules permit.  Special thanks to BobCatMaster for suggesting the main topic and to Tony Rooster for the photo of the poster found in Red Portland below:

Photo courtesy of Tony Rooster

Part 1, Charlottesville:

On seeking battle
On giving battle
The Anabasis of Xenophon
The importance of group cohesion
How do you build up your masculinity
Mayweather vs. MacGregor
Boxing, stickfighting, rugby, football
Stoics, Spartans, silence
Kent State
Propaganda not battle
Media manipulates footage
On naked war, Pankration psychology
Armored ball cap
Eye protection
Gloves, open hand strike
Light colored shirts show blood
On cohesion, pig echelon, rugby
NO to white supremacy
Explorer of the body of lies
Don't fight in the streets!

Part 2, starting approx 1:03:37, Trails:

Trails: Big Ron & Ishmael
Big Game in the West vs urban Baltimore
Gorilla Wall Paul
Advice and experience from veterans
Drug trade with Afgahnistan
Quiet, friendly hero in his environment

(c) 2017 James LaFond & Lynn Lockhart

The Sea Daddy Saga: OSHA Would have Executed our Asses

Conclusion of the Sea Daddy Saga

And we would have deserved it. We went over the line, but that is what those lines are for.

The Wachs saw is a hydraulically driven circular saw that ran on a geared track that went around the pipe and would drag the thing along this cutter. There was another cutter that you could use in a non-flammable situation that had a burning torch. They walk around a section of pipe underwater and do a very precise cut, such clean cuts that you can almost see your reflection off of them.

The diver had made the final hookup [on the articulated “stinger” pipe which trailed the barge], had burned a couple of holes at the end of the pipe that he could rig so they could hook up the crane and start recovering the section of pipe. Then they lashed it to the side of the barge with chains and they went to cut off the first stick and made the cut, when they should have deployed the Wachs saw, but they decided to use the burner and the fire got good enough inside of the pipe—this is an oilfield pipe-laying barge—and coughs this ugly shot of flaming phlegm and the genius hoses it off the deck into the water, which had a quarter to half inch of live oil floating on the surface. Of course all the wooden bumpers on the barge are all burning, the water is burning.

We are 20-30 miles of the coast, in sight.

It’s flaming up and the fire we were interested in, which was the barge fire, was basically in the middle of the barge. We were in the rear of the barge so the fire had to work its way to us. There is the little control shack in which I’m sitting, next to hundreds and hundreds of pressurized gas bottles, which would all explode, flammable and non- flammable and you’d blow a chunk out of the barge, You would lose structure, the crane might collapse, the potential for real disaster was there.

All of the ship personnel are running for the standby boat and almost capsizing that. The standby boat is a tugboat and a lifeboat. We were short-handed, any one you are calling for assistance is piling on this boat, which is likely to sink.

I’ve got all the divers in the rescue capsule, looking out through their port at the flames coming at them and they were very quiet, had nothing to say, all these atheists in the fox hole suddenly seeing Jesus. It wasn’t going to go quick.

They’re in a rescue chamber which had flotation on it and you crane it over the side, assuming the crane was still working. So what you wind up with is they are floating around in this thing and they would have to stay at pressure.

They can’t come up quick, so they’re there for the ride, since the standby boat, which would ordinarily save it, was fixing to get capsized. Very likely they could have been left there alone with us in the bottom and/or swimming for our lives.

The Boss generally sat in the captain’s office, with a huge picture window so he could see the deck. He was sitting there reading something. He had this huge, native-made, ornate chair that he sat in, kind of like a throne, in his underwear and t-shirt in the AC. He’s the skipper. The various supervisors would come up into the office and sit in these inquisition chairs and ask for permission to do what they wanted to do and he would yay or nay it. He was a petroleum pontiff.

Now this situation was so bad, that Silas, his servant came to him and said, “Boss, your better put your pants on for this one.”

The skipper was a large individual, a big guy. I could just picture him in his britches. The sight had to be far more egregious than that Brit in the daisy dukes.

The tenders are going around getting the missing hoses that had been being used to run an air-powered water pump. They recovered the hoses and setup and were fighting the fire on these batter boards from the deck. I was just monitoring the presence of the fire. It had gotten to us—just about time to kick them [the divers in the pressurized habitat] over the side and start worrying about us surviving.

At home I have these little tags that are all shriveled from fire, which were all attached to oxygen hoses. The tags were melting and the hose was next and then you would have had a horrible explosion.

I kept the duct-tape tags, with a flag sticking out. Those were our tags, little chunks of duct tape were melted and burned on one end of our tags, the melting and burning that would have melted the jacket of the high pressure hose that the gas was traveling through and that would have led from one thing to another. Once the outer jacket was burned away the hose would begin to loose integrity and burn and that would have been the point of no return. We didn’t quite get there and I didn’t want to forget that, so kept my trophies to this day.

But the tenders put it out.

I can laugh about it now.

We were all glad to see it put out.

I can’t think of a single extreme sport that would get that extreme for you. You could go out on a mountain bike and scare yourself to death—but this was some big monster-piece-of-shit that could eat you.

But there was still the fire on the water.

The coon-ass guy in the anchor tower recognized that the barge was blocking the wind, so he started cranking the barge and we pulled away and the big pile of oil fire sailed away. You can’t make this blanket condemnation of coon-asses, because some of them are pretty slick. The guy that decided to burn the pipe instead of using the Wachs saw was a coon-ass, and the guy that read the wind and got us out of there was a coon-ass.

The wind was blowing in the right direction and just wasn’t quite our time, I guess.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Wyman Park Dell: Gloria Victis

James, I was surprised by how this series that you and Mescaline Franklin made affected me.  I have never had any more than an average interest in the Civil War.  I felt affronted by the mobs and motions to desecrate Civil War monuments mostly on aesthetic grounds, and of course, an instinctual aversion to smelly antifa mobs and whatever it is they say they want.

As the videos unfolded, I could see that you played the part of a latter day Plato, walking the grounds with your acolyte as you reached back into Plato's own era to reveal the meaning carved into the very landscape you trod.

You had covered this ground before, in the piece your wrote for Counter Currents in February of last year, Iron and Paint.  Readers should view that article for your careful descriptions of the statuary and to contrast the images of the park in winter with the summertime videos.  Lee and Jackson appear in deep shade in mid summer, and wrapped in the skeletal fingers of leafless trees on a misty winter's day.  You give the following caution, which is the strongest argument against dismantling these monuments, and which you have ably demonstrated in the video series:

One must be careful not to isolate individual works of art that comprise larger municipal monuments, as these entire parks are often integrated metaphoric schemes, which were conceived in the context of a general education that no longer exists.
You go on to describe the bond between Jackson and Lee and the significance of that bond to the composition of the monument.  The piece is a perfect companion to the video series, and all viewers are strongly encouraged to read it, and the accompanying piece posted on your main site.  I will not recapitulate them here.

James, of all the lurid video related to the events in Charlottesville and other antifa-attended riots, the one that disturbed me the most was of a mob in Durham toppling and then beating a Confederate statue as though it were a detested criminal caught in the midst of a vile act.  The two inscriptions briefly visible in the video state "DEDICATED MAY 10, 1924," and "IN MEMORY OF THE BOYS WHO WORE THE GRAY."  As noted with respect to the Lee Jackson monument, there is no mention of slavery, no mention of the Confederacy.

That this level of opprobrium could be summoned by a group so far removed from the original conflict suggests to me that this group, bravely attacking an inanimate object made in the form of a long vanquished enemy, is unrelated to either the Union or the Confederate side of the Civil War.  These Civil War monuments were created by the victors, or by the defeated under the grace and sanction of the victors, as tokens of reconciliation.  They are now being destroyed by an entirely different group, a third party which has conquered the victors of the Civil War and is intent on humiliating the defeated side of that war and, in a way, erasing the victorious side so that they can take its place.  It is as though a second civil war has already ended, and the conquerors are already busy rewriting the history books, just as pretenders have done since the ancient Pharaohs of Egypt altered the hieroglyphs describing their defeated rivals, and through the 20th century, when Mao directed university students to destroy ancient Chinese treasures in the name of continuous revolution.

Today's university students are tasked with destroying any legacy of white heterosexual men and they are well on their gleeful way.


Lynn, thank you.

Don't expect me to top that.  I will add that the statues of Confederate men of old have committed a terrible crime:

They, by being, suggest that things were not as simple in the past as they are now, that there was a time in this country when mankind was not strictly divided, as it is today, into a small free-speaking group of evil dissenters arrayed against a vast monolithic society of goodness and perfection, but that once upon a time, where now blooms the Garden of Secular Eden, forces beyond the ken of men placed them--good and evil both--at odds, side-by-side and face-to-face, forcing them into hellish warfare in which a young evil strove against an elder evil, one in the name of tradition and the other in the name of progress, both with the same undying animus, to snuff out the human soul.

View the entire 10 part video series at the Wyman Park Dell playlist at my YouTube channel, and use the Wyman Park Dell tag to see all the related blog posts.

(c) 2017 Mescaline Franklin, James LaFond & Lynn Lockhart

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

A Well of Heroes: Two

Literary Impressions of the Prose and Verse of Robert E. Howard

Fantasy and Horror writer, James LaFond reviews the subtext and heroic themes of Robert E. Howard’s works of pulp fiction and tribal myth, including extensive discussions of the hero in myth, history and literature.

Available in paperback.

The White House around the Corner

Mid Morning in Dindustan

I took a walk today, Monday, 1:55-2:30 pm, September 25, 2017, from Caucasian Avenue to the 7-11 on Harford Road and Glenmore, a nice stroll, where I passed the house pictured above.

18 months ago this man, who has waved to me, but whom I do not know, four houses down from where three hoodrat thugs tried to stop my Lili Hun and almost got run over, one block from where I was attacked by a pitbull, two blocks from where a woman was strangled 9 months ago, two blocks from where four thugs began piling out of a car on me this time last year but thought better of it after I armed myself, barred the front door, his back door, his basement windows and door and his ground floor windows. He also placed an American flag in the window of that small basement door and hung one from the garage eve just to the left of the green SUV in this picture.

Today, as I walked home by his place at 2:28, I saw that the flags are gone, that the house is open and being renovated, with a gutting dumpster in the driveway in front of the green door…

Another man is gone.

The photo serves as the inside cover of the book below, which I decided not to put on the cover for his privacy’s sake. The house is on the corner of Sefton and Mary.

Dawn in Dindustan: Conducting the Moral Autopsy of a Nation

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Sunday, September 24, 2017

James LaFond HQ: Parts 10 & 11

Take a last look at James LaFond's potentially endangered living arrangements.

Part 10, Photos:

The Harm City Charmer shows you his friends on the bus and how to hold a pencil for lethal effect.

Part 11, Daily Gear:

James shows off his footwear and backpacks of choice.

(c) 2017 Lili Hun, James LaFond

‘No Man Comes Home from War’

Kong: Skull Island

Kong was one of the most enjoyable and least Politically Correct movies in recent years. The plot is right out of Edgar Rice Burroughs, combining elements The Land that Time Forgot and Pellucidar [his hollow earth] with H.P. Lovecraft’s To the Mountains of Madness.

An uncharted island in the middle of a perpetual electromagnetic storm system is home to ancient, massive lifeforms.

Two fighter pilots are downed here in 1944, A Japanese and an American, obviously taken from the movie Hell in the Pacific.

The scene then shifts to the eve of the fall of Saigon and a paranormal researcher played by John Goodman seeks the secrets of the Island.

For security, a troop of U. S. Army Air Cavalry are charged with helio-insertion and then they run into a Japanese style King Kong, a beast so big that the Empire State Building would have never supported his weight. The best part of the movie for Ishmael and I was watching the U.S. Army helicopter troop get annihilated by a massive, manlike creature. If Kong downing the bi-plane in the original movie was your favorite moment, then you get ten minutes of that in Kong!

Our glee at the slaughter of a human-piloted machine army was so brutally adolescent that it caused some soul searching, with us agreeing that what we were cheering for was masculine defiance in the person of Kong against the machine forces of modernity. Certainly, the few remaining American men will be hunted like coyotes by Home Land Security, the FBI, ATF and DOD before the century is out.

Goodman plays a convincing role.

Samuel L. Jackson, as a hard ass Colonel gives one hope as he dives into the bad guy role rather than the martyr and sage rolls usually written for A-list black actors.

The best role was John C. Riley as the marooned aviator from WWII.

The supporting cast was good and the female eye-candy of a quality targeting a Japanese audience, with some Jap super-babe incongruently wielding an assault rifle.

The leading man and leading lady stayed with the convention established by the first movie.

Kong: Skull Island, bringing together a round dozen of movies and pulp authors into one brutal adventure, is, on one hand, a sign of these unoriginal times and on the other hand an indication that mankind still identifies more with a hairy brute than with the sissy, soul-stealing matrix that feeds upon us.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Mangina Season

Resist the Activation of Your Drone Clitoris

Masculinity has it fallow seasons, both lesser and greater. Do not fall prey to the systemic emasculation offered by our sick, quibbling society. Below are two of the most pervasive pitfalls of our age.

The National Felony League

From September through January every year, as winter falls over the nation, so does winter come to manhood, as the majority of American men gather in gaggles great and small in faux worship of the most childish and obnoxious celebrity athletes that our irradiated Gaia has managed to spawn from her puss oozing womb of mongrel nations.

If you view a football game, do so as a mechanical study, not as a fan, sidelined from life, his passion leashed in abject passivity rendered superficially masculine in the eyes of this toxic anti-culture only because men, when behaving like women, cheering on the masculine paragons they would like to be dominated by, are louder than women, and therefore somehow appear manly, as if a cartoon rendering of Mister McGoo represented the stern genius of Confucius.

Alt-Right Bitch Parading

The recent revolt against deracination, cultural obliteration, masculine eradication and semantic tyranny has drawn Right-thinking men into protest and support marches in which they are compromised in every way. In a world where you cannot say what you think or believe, it may seem like a form of masculine expression to argue in the streets; playing at petty war may seem masculine. However, protest parading is intrinsically feminine and meant to build sympathy for the physically powerless marchers in the same way as neighbors might sympathize with a battered wife and vote to pass a law permitting her access to the proxy force of the government.

The entire democratic process is a form of emasculation, with voting the best fertilizer for cultivating the citizen’s delusion that he is empowered, when in fact his very casting of a ballot disempowers him. Protesting and other such whining vigils are merely nooses for dissidents hung from the yardarm of the ship of state in hopes that some fool might place his head into it and jump.


Jack’s Garden

Earlier this year Jack Donovan wrote a much criticized essay on Alt-Right politics and racial identity activism in the face of our looming homogeneity, in which he closed by suggesting that a man build something, build himself, make his own way, rather than insisting in a say granted by the beast that ever lies. It occurs to me now at this remove that Jack was vaguely predicting the Alt-Right Waterloo at Charlottesville.

A man should not seek from the hand that keeps him.

A man should take the world by the throat and wring from it truth and lie.

To paraphrase the searing answer my favorite serial killer once gave, standing at the precipice of his extermination, when asked if he had any final regrets:

“That the world had but one neck, so I could ring it!”

-Carl Panzram

Now, that was a man, that is a hero by the ancient definition. He was evil and he was not a good citizen. But he was no worse than the world that raped him in the cradle—better in fact, because he raped and killed men, one on one, rather than the systemic degradation and mental mutilation afflicted upon the thinking individual by the mass media state and its puppeteers.

Find the Panzram in you and then take that animus and forge it into something good rather than the devouring growth within that ate him alive.

Many have taken the better road.

It can be done.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Social Media Updates for James LaFond

Comments for James from YouTube:

Lance asks for a basic footwork video, James responds:

When next I get in front of a camera I will do a basic footwork video.
Thanks for your interest.

and FaceBook:

Astrid writes:

Hey James, interesting analyses in this and the similar post.  Training from 2 martial arts lineages connected to him (1 under the aforementioned Sifu Clark, as you know), I hadn't heard this perspective.  I'm not sure I believe that it's that clear-cut when considering his weaknesses at the bags, etc, but the arguments are pretty sound none-the-less.  I especially enjoyed the videos you included, they're fascinating. 

James responds:

Thank you, Astrid,
Since I'm a coach and not an instructor I tend to veer away from technical possibilities and look at the durability and adaptability of the combatant. This is not always the best way. I can tell you that there would be a simple way for an untested martial artist like Lee to beat a bruiser like Duran--spear him in the eyes! Finger jabs followed by groin kicks.
take care and give Sifu Clark my best, please

Follow James LaFond on Facebook and Lynn Lockhart on YouTube

Friday, September 22, 2017

Wisdom of the Khan

‘What’s Different about Women for Older Guys and What’s the Same?’ A Man Question from Steevo

What is different about women in my pain-wracked dotage?

When I was a young man, one would endeavor to get a woman drunk so that she would have sex with you.

Now, one gets a woman drunk so that she will pass out and the need for sex will pass from her pretty lips with an adorable whimper.

What remains the same?

A woman’s scent has always been an intoxicant for me, far beyond any physical drive to join with her, a thing of its own, a sweet sub-smell, which ironically waxes more delicious when she is afraid.

I enjoy the sweet taste of a woman’s fear just as I am rendered aggressive by the reek of a man’s fear. A man in abject fear, especially, stinks with a pungent bitterness that makes the hackles on my nape prickle.

Yes, the scent of a woman remains a fine pleasure.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

The Sea-Daddy Saga: The Canoe Desruction Team

The Soldiers

The soldiers were up on the helideck so they could see the entire vessel. They were national troops, not elite troops. I imagine they were useless troops that they sent out there. But they had real guns with real bullets and they played with them, so they were actually a danger. They were stoned all the time and had Walkmans they would listen to. I almost had them talked into letting me fire the [30 caliber machine] gun a few times. But they must have had to count their ammunition, so I never got to do that. There were four of these soldiers. They never caused any damage, but they injected this attitude into the situation that there was this loose-cocked cannon that could go off anytime. The security they were providing wouldn’t have worked out very good if it was needed. There was a ticking time bomb effect and I was glad to see them off, because they weren’t there all the time. But the canoe killers were.

The Stinger

This is a large, articulated device made of steel tubing, a large welded assembly. Picture a finger that had, instead of two joints, maybe eight and all were movable. You could cause this thing to achieve the proper angle to contact the seabed. If you get the angle wrong it could break, a really important device and you need people working on it that really know what they are doing, a lot of potential for disaster. The stinger trails the barge and may be curled up like scorpion’s tail or floated in the water.

There was one small boat, similar to the canoe people—pirates, basically—who had attempted to come abreast when the barge was moving. There had been people in it. But as we sailed along the empty boat was twirling around the stinger as it dragged along in our wake, not a soul in sight.

The Shackles

There were at least three or four canoe killers on any shift, all big goons, anyone of them could have gone into the NFL. They had authority over any national on board [meaning the deckhands]. There were probably eight of the warriors from the tribe we had hired—and what better job for a warrior generally just kept order among the nationals.

The nationals did all the hard work, dragging the big cables, rigging the crane loads, welding, burning, the duties any seaman would do on a vessel.

The shackle is a U-shaped implement that has a straight pin across the bottom that closes and you use it to attach two cables together. These are made from good steel and the size depends on their rating. When you get up to a fifty-ton shackle, they weigh several pounds, some of them weighed 30-40 pounds so the small size to weight ratio made them a very good missile.

The canoes were wood dugouts, powered by paddles [an engine is the kind of thing the government would have], water-logged, so the hulls were actually soft, so when you dropped a heavy weight on them it would punch through them like paper. They were strong from the bottom, but weak from above. They would usually come out in pairs, grapple onto the side of the ship and the boarders would swarm up to grab some things. The other canoe would hang back and see if all went well. If it did, they would swarm in also and grab everything that was not nailed down. But if they saw a shackle attack they were gone. The larger shackles were used by the Canoe Destruction Team to sink the dugouts, which would go right to the bottom.

Some of these people could not swim. For those who could swim, there were smaller steel shackles to drop on them and send them to the bottom. I witnessed one shackle attack and heard of others. Once you are at a certain location, word gets around and the pirates come out, but once you kill a few of them they don’t come back.

If you kill them right out of the gate that just discourages people. The actual valuation of human life is not really there. They were using an old Russian cargo plane and the maintenance wasn’t there. They were using it for passengers and the hydraulics failed, causing the back loading door to open, and 80 of these people were dumped into the jungle. It was just a blurb in the newspaper. Imagine if that happened in the United States, dumping 80 innocent citizens across the landscape—so there’s the upside of civilization.

You might ask why the soldiers wouldn’t take care of these canoes with their 30 caliber machine gun. But it was actually just an intimidator. When it came down to killing people they preferred doing it with shackles.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Crackpot Podcast Episode 9: Masculine Taboo, Masculine Axis

LaFond's unpaid intern has been hard at work maxing out her aging laptop's processing resources and suburban DSL upload speeds to bring you Episode 9 of the Crackpot Podcast:

Masculine Taboo Survey
Slave girl survey coming soon?
Early Taboo Survey results
Are surgeons psycho?
The need for a few cavemen to remain in society
Crackpot climate change theory
What does it mean that giant ice cubes are floating through the ocean?
Understanding slavery
Do you own your own life?
War on drugs
The Great Society
Societal development and boxing
Masculine Axis
Why destroy American society?
Their demonstrations of valor and resilience in WWI & WWII
People should have to struggle

The Hunt for Whitey

Recognizing and Surviving the Condition of Anarcho-Tyranny

BobCatMaster says The Hunt for Whitey is "chilling and surreal."

Available in paperback and Kindle edition.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

The Sea-Daddy Saga: Working off the African Coast

The Obnoxious African American

You would always have one of these guys that would be over the top and seemed to get off lording it over these [African] people who had nothing. He would have photographs on him so that he could show someone a picture of his car, or house, something they would never have and he treasured so little that he kept the picture in his sweaty coveralls—hideous, directed bigotry, picking on people that were weaker than you.

They had segregated eating areas. He went down to eat with his brothers and found out they were eating things he could not eat and, more to the point, they all wanted to kill him. These [deckhand] riggers are eating with their work knives and the place is filled with guys with daggers by their plates.

Once, we brought in a different tribe to work, and they ate with us, because if they went into the indigenous galley, they would literally kill each other. That was just the way it was. So these guys would have to eat in the white side. I saw very little hatred of black people over there. We didn’t mind them eating with us, but our food didn’t suit them. It was segregated but it wasn’t. It was not from segregationalist feeling, but just because it wasn’t practical.

There was absolutely no theft [by indigenous deckhands] on the barge, not so much as a bar of soap. The captain ruled that village and they saw what happened to the guys in the canoes.

The one African American comes upstairs, a tall, noble-looking and loud person. He couldn’t operate quietly, so he came into our galley and says that they’re are eating shit down there. He was so unpleasant that you couldn’t talk to him. He managed to insult the black men in the kitchen, telling them they should be working on their own, not slaving away for The Man, basically a racial agitator. There is no sense in sending him home, for he would be replaced by another like him. The majority are just making money, but some brought their attitude with them and all the Africans hated the black Americans and found them intolerable—jumped up too much by half. That particular fellow stayed in the wheelhouse, because he wasn’t safe anywhere and he would play solitaire on the computer. If he had to work on his gear, he’d run down and tell his assistant to finish it and run back up, hoping no one would ambush him.

Bioko Island, Equatorial Guinea

The Brits, the first thing they do, any time they find themselves in a tropical environment, is take their britches off. Bioko Island is where the first King Kong movie was made, one of the homes of the Mountain Gorilla. The island itself is a series of volcanic cones. One top of the major volcano was blown off in antiquity and there is a beautiful lake in this crater. The Russians used to use it as a beach area. They will give you a gorilla tour and part of the tour was this recreational place, a nice building, where you could walk through these echoing corridors, like the final scene of a movie where you’re walking through these abandoned halls, haunted by the spirits of these isolated Russians, a psychically powerful place to be, a gorgeous beauty and this decay. The trail of another bunch of white guys that pulled some crap off and went on home and all is left is their spore. There are rotting planes the Russians left at the end of the strip—pretty historic.

The British guy: he was a typical, cocky diver, good shape, strong guy, with his daisy duke shorts and hiking boots—they just do that, put on shorts. He was outraging public decency, acting like he was on the Riviera. You can’t do that—probably never met a religious person in his life so he didn’t understand it.

We were walking around the town in these Daisy Dukes. We turn up a street. The dwellings are better, a nice view, you can see the Ocean. We are passing this particularly large, freshly-painted place with a tall wall, with a large central gate, big enough for a limo to pull through. There was a sub door down in the corner and these four elite looking soldiers come out. They were snappily uniformed, berets, all had identical Rayban sunglasses, pressed uniforms, brass and boots shined, obviously security troops, not field troops, armed with the latest in “rattle” guns, H&Ks, I think.

They are expressionless, not mad, not sad, totally expressionless and they snatched him up and marched him out of there quick. I started to say something and one of them looked at me and I stopped saying. They kept him for two days for outraging the public decency. The company went and paid some money and promised he’d learned his lesson and wouldn’t wear Daisy Dukes no more.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Forturne Favors the Bold

‘All against All’

Grace & Steel Ep. 88 - Good News, Bad News

The largest change in human history was the birth of nation states circa 5,000 years ago. The balance of history has been an endless, blood-drenched and toil-rooted procession of states erasing tribes, empires subduing states and the various waning and waxing empires employing the mechanisms of the state to erase vestigial tribal identities, and cannibalizing the state itself in order to establish various versions of universalist world order, from the Pax Romana, Islam, Christendom, Mercantilism, Communism and finally global American capitalist hegemony.

At 14 minutes Kevin Michael Grace makes an excellent case for ethnic homogeny equating to prosperity, in the looming shadow of American race replacement, leading to savage retribution.

2Kevins is my favorite political/social commentary show, and in a balanced yet passionate fashion they have let the young men cast adrift in the moral wastes of Modernity know that they are facing life as either the victim of race war or a combatant in the same macro-politically engineered ethical holocaust.

I write often of the need for ethnically identified men to avoid being sucked into the staged aspects of the race war that have been set up to destroy and discredit them. However, if you are under 40 years old, you can bank on facing an open, national scale race purge—not just by mobs—but by paramilitary groups. One day, those squads and platoons of Antifa and BLM goon-clowns will be augmented and superseded by Islamic militias, tens of thousands of federal agency personnel and thousands of mercenaries—the military contractors currently serving overseas.

The point is, the choice to fight will be replaced by a choice to wear a mind collar or defiantly die.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Wyman Park Dell, Parts 6, 7, 8 & 9

In these videos, James and Mescaline examine the Lee Jackson Monument, since removed from Wyman Park Dell, and discuss the importance of the placement of the statue, the symbolism of various elements of the design and inscriptions, and the consequences of the statue's removal.

Wyman Park Dell 6:  Lee, Jackson, This City Doesn't Deserve You Guys

Wyman Park Dell 7:  Low Intensity, Post-Modern Civil War

Wyman Park Dell 8: Straight as the Needle to the Pole

Wyman Park Dell 9: So Great is My Confidence

(c) 2017 James LaFond, Mescaline Franklin & Lynn Lockhart

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

So His Master May Have Him Again by James LaFond

A History of Runaway White Slaves in Plantation America: Part One

Did you know that the story of black bondage in Early America, as horrible as it was, quite literally paled in comparison to the more than 200 years of white enslavement? The African slave trade in North America did not begin in earnest until 1678 and would not outstrip white slave shipments until 1740. Did you know that when George Washington served as President in Philadelphia there were as few as 100 black slaves in that city, where it was illegal to hold blacks for more than six months, in the Quaker state of Pennsylvania, which held over 200,000 whites in bondage for terms of 7-14 years? It was for this very reason that the founder of his nation chose to free his black slaves and replace them with Germans. Did you know that the first slaves in English speaking America were Welsh-English colonists intentionally marooned on Roanoke Island and then enslaved by Indians? Then welcome to the savage world that American Historians have lied about for nearly 100 years—welcome to the land were people were literally “planted” so that others might own them.

Available in paperback.

The Mind Curtain

Taking Risks, Setting Limits, New Limits and Giving Notice

I do not have a risk-taking personality.

I have forced myself to take risks as a discipline to try and erase the babyhood from my soul.

Many people think my pursuit of fighting arts has been senselessly risky. However, my trade as a grocer has caused nearly all my debilitating injuries, has in fact ruined me. Gunk is collecting in my lungs already from decades of working in coolers and freezers.

Before going on to describe the mechanical damage, I must fess up to the major risk I have been taking since age 31, not sleeping, which has crashed my metabolism and has put and kept weight on me which is exacerbating the structural damage. My doctor told me last week, at a glance, how many hours’ sleep I’d had in the past 24 and correctly guessed it was two. My average sleep is still at four hours, with me going more than 24 hours without sleep three times a week. In the past 72 hours I have slept 8.5. I have no regrets, having lived two lifetimes in less than one, but I wish to be able to continue writing and maintain independence.

I have grossly exceeded normal industry work rates, which are low and I believe half of what a person should do. I am also working with more intelligence and doing my own physical therapy, so will reduce my labor years’ equivalent by two thirds for these two factors.

For instance, this past Wednesday night, in 4 hours I freighted 178 pieces. The men I work with freight 140 pieces in 8 hours which is currently the industry bench mark. Realistically it should be 200 in 8 hours. I expanded my work rate so I could get home and write.

Mechanically my body stress is based on the following:

12 years at 3x the median grocer work rate: 36 years
5 years at 6x the median grocer work rate: 30 years
8 years at 5x the median grocer work rate: 40 years
4 years at 4x the median grocer rate: 16 years
7 years at 2x the median grocer work rate: 14 years

This totals an equivalent of 136 years working at the standard rate of a grocer, most of whom hang in there for 40 years.

My 136 year equivalent gets reduced to 45.3 years, which places me at the end of the trajectory.

Beyond that I know my body well and when I went into work this past Friday night I knew I was done, the curtain is coming down. With a twice blown disc, a bad hip, and the meniscus tearing in both knees from all the squatting, I’ll be lucky to make it to December 31, which is what I promised my boss when he came in. I am not going to work myself crippled and be unable to defend myself. This may yet be the case. I may blow something out before New Years, it’s that bad. And Larry did ask me to put my 2 weeks in on January 1 so he could pay me for the coming years’ vacation.

It’s a hand shake deal, I reduce my annual income from $12,000 to $3,000 beginning next year. I should be able to manage an upward trajectory from there, probably giving boxing lessons at a karate school to buy groceries.

The reasoning is sleep. My doctor insist that sleep deprivation is now taking the major toll and since I refuse to scale back writing to sleep I will scale back money making, sleep 6-8 hours a day and write faster and with fewer errors.

The important thing is that I do the honorable thing. Larry has been good to me, so I let him know hours after I made the impulsive decision, giving us enough time for me to train a replacement, a kid on the crew that would like more hours, hours that I’ve largely been turning down, a kid that can now have one of the rare full-time slots with benefits left in retail food—dairy lead.

I’m seeing this move as good for what everyone needs in their lives right now. Whatever happens, I’m done working in supermarkets after 4.5 months. If the writing fails I’ll live behind a grocery store before I work in one.

It’s time to move on to the final, productive act of my part.

Thanks, Larry.
James, September 10, 2017

(c) 2017 James LaFond

James LaFond HQ: Parts 7, 8 & 9

Come see the cerebral side of the Crackpot's home: his extensive library and personal research notes.

Part 7, The Library:

Part 8, The Research I:

Part 9, The Research II:

(c) 2017 Lili Hun & James LaFond

Sunday, September 17, 2017

James LaFond YouTube Roundup

Hello readers, viewers and listeners,

Perhaps you have noticed that each time you visit YouTube, or search YouTube for your favorite videos, things appear in a rather scrambled order.  In order to address this problem, and to satisfy my compulsive organizational urges, I have created the following summary of all the material on my channel, as well as James' interviews with other parties.  Series and those podcasts that appear in multiple parts will link to playlists.

I will update this post as more content is added.

Crackpot Podcast Episodes:

Episode 28 YouTube. Episode 28 mp3.
Episode 27 YouTube. Episode 27 mp3.
Episode 26 YouTube. Episode 26 mp3.
Episode 25 YouTube. Episode 25 mp3.
Episode 24 YouTube. Episode 24 mp3.
Episode 23 YouTube. Episode 23 mp3.
Episode 22 YouTube. Episode 22 mp3
Episode 21 YouTube. Episode 21 mp3.
Episode 20 YouTube. Episode 20 mp3.
Episode 19 YouTube. Episode 19 mp3.
Episode 18 YouTube. Episode 18 mp3.
Episode 17 YouTube. Episode 17 mp3.
Episode 16 YouTube. Episode 16 mp3.
Episode 15 YouTubeEpisode 15 mp3.
Episode 14 YouTube. Episode 14 mp3.
Episode 13 YouTube. Episode 13 mp3.
Episode 12 YouTube. Episode 12 mp3.
Episode 11 YouTube. Episode 11 mp3.
Episode 10 YouTube. Episode 10 mp3.
Episode 9 YouTube. Episode 9 mp3.
Episode 8 YouTube. Episode 8 mp3.
Episode 7 YouTube. Episode 7 mp3.
Episode 6 YouTube (playlist). Episode 6 mp3.
Episode 5 YoutTube (playlist). Episode 5 mp3.
Episode 4 YouTube (playlist). Episode 4 mp3.
Episode 3 YouTube (playlist). Episode 3 mp3.
Episode 2 YouTube. Episode 2 mp3.
Episode 1 YouTube (playlist). Episode 1 mp3.

Other Lynn Lockhart Channel:

Wyman Park Dell Civil War Monument (playlist).
James LaFond HQ tour (playlist).
Training videos.


Interview with Kevin Michael Grace of 2Kevins.
Interview with the Roaming Viking.
Roaming Viking excerpt: Origins of Boxing.
Interview with The Rebel Yell.
Beyond The Wire, interview with Myth of the 20th Century
Second interview with the Roaming Viking.
Sports, Ritual Hegemony with Myth of the 20th Century.
Interview on writing with Robert Stark.
LA Riots with Myth of the 20th Century.
Interviews with some anonymous guy, many topics.
Malcolm X with Myth of the 20th Century.

See also, training and fight videos at the Modern Agonistics link at

(c) 2017 Lynn Lockhart

How Police Help the Thugs, Crackpot Podcast Episode 8, James LaFond & Lynn Lockhart

Welcome to Episode 8, enjoy!

How police help criminals
Uncle Crush & corrupt magistrates
Big Nate
Crazy Mark
Ghetto Grocer diplomacy
The justice system/prison system
Bar security
The pink assault rifle
BTG Photos
Police protect gangsters from one another
Night time attacks in daylight
Sikh liquor stores
Respect for elders
Z-man & Skittle
Michael Brown
Summer of love in Silicon Valley
7th grade desert island marauders
BGF -- prisons, policing, etc.
Opiates death spike in Baltimore
Literacy in Baltimore

Saturday, September 16, 2017

The Mind of Mescaline Franklin by James LaFond

The Awakening of a Paleface Ethnocist

An awakening mind, Mescaline Franklin is the Aryan Resistance name of a young white nationalist who drove into Baltimore one summer afternoon seeking an audience with a little-known crackpot indie writer, best regarded for his dissertation on stabbing people with improvised weapons. The man who would take the best street name in the Alternative Right knew he was walking the earth in the time when his ancestral enemies were pulling down the shroud of night. The grandson of a man who fought the World Order on the Russian Front an age ago, now living across the river from the towers of power that pulled the strings of that World Order, he knew he had to spread the word of “dissent not consent” among working white men. Toward that end he would journey to the nadir of urban blight on a monthly quest to hone his persuasive edge on the knuckle-dented head of End Time America’s most prolific outcast, growing incipient strands that formed a simple, defiant creed.

Available in paperback.

Habitat Hoodrat: Yo-Nation by James LaFond

Harm City U.S.A., 2016-17

Yo Nation is a survey of geeks, thugs, freaks, killers and the meek as they experience cultural freefall in the moral vacuum of Baltimore City, Maryland, better known to its inmates as Harm City. In Harm City there are vacancies aplenty as over 12,000 residents flee with eyes wide shut each and every year.

See also the companion volume: Habitat Hoodrat: Ho-Nation.

Available in paperback.

Friday, September 15, 2017

The Sea-Daddy Saga: The King Barge

Sea-Daddy is a senior gentleman from Faulkner’s country, who speaks with the considered cadence of Shelby Foote and the wit of George Carlin.

Boutique Companies and Texas Hats

It’s a thing, where pampered wealthy guys stand around and compare their holdings, so to speak, what they own and how cool it is. The smart ones would sell out immediately. The dumb ones would hang on and be exploited for a year or two and then sell to one of their friends.

The divers, the rules of diving, “if I ever had one like it, it’s mine.” Divers will steal and they do it instinctively and feel no guilt. They can rationalize any reason for stealing that you can imagine. They are ruthless and there is a competition as to who can steal the most. It’s like a gonif, [a Yiddish] word, a thief and dishonest, but kind of cute, so it’s okay, an interesting word that describes those guys.

The Barge

It’s 400' by 80' and most of the living quarters are below waterline. It is where the lower level workers stayed. If you had a little rank, you could get above deck accommodations, for lack of a better term, “officers,” company men. The engine rooms, galleys, recreation rooms, showers, all that stuff, is below the waterline and we called it steerage. The people that lived there didn’t call it steerage, they called the people that didn’t live their assholes.

I was an LST, Life Support Technician, responsible for the welfare of the divers when they were stored in the system and in the water, that they had the right breathing media. Temperature and humidity had to be controlled very closely. If you took a thermal image of a guy breathing helium, you will see that he’s expelling a lot of heat. One or two degrees one way or the other and he might freeze or burn up. If you let the humidity get high you can have skin conditions. Then there is the carbon dioxide that had to be controlled, tracking and controlling that trend.

The hardest thing of it all was to picture the actual universe you were controlling and the idea of controlling these spaces with different pressures, how you bring them together and separate them. The manipulation of space is hard to wrap your head around. You have this semi god-like attitude where you can make it rain or snow and you have to keep these people alive as you watch their mental degradation as the days stack up, and you might have to talk to their supervisor about giving them a day off. You might have a horrible home situation that factors into their attitude, so you have to be very conscious of your tone of voice. You are one of only one or two people they will talk to. The voice coming through the speaker tube has to be just right or it will piss them off—have to be like a smoothed-voice FM jockey, a tech/shrink/medical observer—and you have to be able to entertain them, be able to tell them something ridiculous that will make them laugh. They know you’re manipulating them, but if you do it with finesse they appreciate that. You have to sell yourself while you are saving them. I guess the only good thing about it is you got paid well enough and had the opportunity to save someone’s life, more important than anyone, a genuine change of value, timeless value, unaffected by the customs of society. You have totally left that beach society and are in this highly concentrated, exotic society. Not an elite group but a competent group, and mere competence can be elite these days.

Being a Sea-Daddy

Well, it’s an actual recognized position that’s not written down anywhere, a traditional thing. If you are somebody’s sea-daddy there is a certain amount of responsibility laid on you for that kid, because some people are so horrible you don’t want to be in that position, don’t want that weight on their head. But if he’s a good kid with potential and you think you can steer him, it is to your advantage to help him become more competent, and if he is a good one that looks likely, you best befriend him and help him out, because he might be signing your check in five years. These tenders had a habit of rising in the business—if you couldn’t save their life you could maybe save their career. Maybe when you’re old and grey he’ll say, “He wasn’t so bad, I’ll give that old fucker a job.”

It’s an extra duty and I can take it or leave it depending on my mood.

The Crew

Superintendent, in charge of job: this fellow was an old Southern boy who lived in the adjacent coastal village. The entire village was essentially his. He was the bwana.

Each shift, day and night, will have a supervisor running the dive. You are running the system and are limited to helping the supervisor.

The divers are all actually your superior, but they’ll lay respect on you because you’re wedded to the hip of the supervisor.

The tenders are the bottom of the list. Divers may or may not be valued more than the techs. More important than anyone is the equipment technician.


I think it’s a hopeful thing that people can buy servants in this day. I was never anything more than a servant. In some parts of the world you can buy a servant to do laundry and get your meals, check for mail, plus they clean up your room.

Silas and the Boss

In Africa, in the village, the Boss has a mansion, the whole village depends on this guy, has a mansion with servants, joy girls, and he has Silas. He was the Boss’s servant and would lord it over the crew and be obvious about it. They all hated him, he was like a caricature of a sneaky house servant. He treated everybody with contempt, white, black, German, French, American, a wicked little man. If he was being nice to you, you knew he was moving into position to screw you over. He got people fired off the deck.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Wyman Park Dell Civil War Monument, Parts 4 & 5

In Parts 4 & 5 of this series, James and Mescaline approach the Lee Jackson monument, noting the significance of its placement and setting.  James goes on to describe the impact of modern industrialization on warfare, tracing the lessons of the Civil War forward to World War I and World War II, through to the invasion of Iraq.

See Part 1, and Parts 2 & 3.

Part 4, A Heroic Class in Charge:

Part 5, Christians & Gentlemen

(c) 2017 Mescaline Franklin, James LaFond & Lynn Lockhart

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

James LaFond HQ, Parts 4, 5 & 6

Learn more about the Crackpot's state-of-the-medieval-art home defense system, and watch for an unscheduled appearance by the Khan.

James LaFond HQ Part 4, Yurt Defense II:

James LaFond HQ Part 5, Yurt Defense III:

James LaFond HQ Part 6, The Softer Side:

(c) 2017 Lili Hun, James LaFond

Have Your Beer at Home

Assessing John Q. Citizen's risk profile: A Man Question from Shep

Do you have any stats or anecdotal evidence about the most common violent crimes/situations that the average middle-class family man in a demographically-average U.S. city would be faced with?

Is John Q. Citizen in Yourtown, USA more likely to be carjacked, braced by a dindu for his wallet, confronted by an angry drunk, or…


Shep, I have no numbers on this, only anecdotes. We should break it down by lifestyle.

-Men who have a physical job usually face, at least once during their life, a potentially violent disagreement with a coworker on or near the workplace.
-Men who work in retail always face workplace altercations with thieves, robbers or the insane, from among the customer base, on a fairly predictable basis, depending on the demographic.
-Men who work at night in any urban area are commonly targeted for stickups or carjacking. Most never happen. But understand that most men have been assessed as a potential victim.

Generally, getting around is where a man runs into the most strange men who might potentially target him.
-Mass transit use is the highest risk, with stickups, strong-arm robbery and race-based predation an ever present threat.
-Walking brings the same risks as mass transit, but with a much reduced frequency.
-Driving, for anyone, puts them at risk of the above, but at a much lower frequency and may be warded against with much certainty through awareness. The additional risks for a driver are the area being traversed, and his own behavior. One can be drawn into a road rage situation anywhere. Typically carjackers target the weak, the unaware and those distracted by a driving job like being a cabbie.

-Drinking in public and then being marked for stickup, robbery, or other crime is a man’s highest risk, so have your beer at home.
-Self-medicating with illegal drugs puts one in the highest risk category for attacks by criminals and cops and is the single best life style choice to avoid.


Shep, the overall variable facing men today is whether or not race purgers and recreational criminals will target us for cohesion-building and masculinity-affirming violence. This is the single fastest growing aspect of the violence-scape across America, with certain populations of violence-prone people now living in close proximity to peaceful people whom they have been conditioned through media manipulation to hate. So, when gearing up for your day of agency, family stewardship and decency, one must be on the lookout for packs of roving adolescents trying to reinvent a notion of manhood based on our society’s materialistic view of social justice and race-based glory-crime.   

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Breaking Windows

Considering the Human Eye in Combat

Just about every woman I have known deeply enough to have serious conversation has named the eyes “the windows of the soul.” I gather this is a common belief, one that I share, which vexes me, having grown so smug in my apartness.

This week I viewed a conversation between Joe Rogan and Bas Rutten, in which Rutten was speaking of the fact that the eye is not a magic bullet in combat and you had better not poke the eye of some caveman like him who has you in a dominant position.

This requires an address from a coach who advocates spearing and raking the eyes in a survival situation. Rutten was discussing poking and gouging, which puts you in the grappler’s game.

I have trained with guys that were so strong, that if you started digging around in their eye they could just snap your bones. I also once protected myself from a furious attempt to crush my throat on the steel blade of an upturned dolly by scraping an eye, my would-be murderer only permitting me a one-finger scrape before adjusting his hold and maintaining his determination to kill me. This is covered in detail in Thriving in Bad Places.

In Being a bad Man in a Worse World, I cover attacks against the eye, which should be strikes from an oblique angle for shocking the brain and ripping open the eye ball.

What I would like to discuss here is the tactical facility of using eye contact in pre-combat situations.

Keeping one eye on someone while using the other for peripheral detection of an accomplice or third party is something I can only do from left to right, by turning my left side to the primary threat or target, keeping my left eye directed at him, while utilizing my bony beak to divide my vision, scanning with my right eye. Practicing this for more than a minute causes a headache. My left eye is damaged and has no real peripheral vision so I’m no good on this from that side. This provides a more subtle form of pre-sucker punch setup.

If you are not close enough to be hit and he seems like he is ready to go, a sharp look to the side—as if you are startled by something suddenly appearing to your side—has worked for me. Do not turn your head even a little or he will belt you. This is a good one if you are about to bum rush, not punch.

Mentally weak people are easily cowed through cold, hard eye-contact from just beyond touch range. Maniacs, however will often attack precipitously over such eye contact. Emasculated dindus and whindus will generally begin wolfing at this point, which will permit you to drift away with your eye on them while they go about saving face by running their mouth.

Hot eye-contact, works best at close proximity if you have overwhelming psychological or physical strength and your rear and flanks are secured. Keep in mind that such close range grilling can trigger sucker punches from a crafty antagonist and is, legally, assault, for which you might be charged in a court of law, or even arrested if you don’t cool down around a responding cop. This shows wisdom on the part of the courts as eye-to-eye grilling is a highly successful and much used form of intimidation.

The most effective way to use the eyes against dangerous men is to make and maintain neutral eye-contact while seeking superior position and maintaining time and measure by subtly shifting angles, one sucker step at a time. This often tires and confuses the confrontational personality.

With the exception of hot, close eye-contact, little to no conversation, no insults, no arguments and preferably the mystery of cold silence will break the resolve of most confrontational antagonists and many predatory aggressors before contact.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Monday, September 11, 2017

American Empire & The Valley of ...

Wyman Park Dell Parts 2 & 3

James LaFond and Mescaline Franklin continue their observations of Wyman Park Dell in Baltimore.  See the Part 1 here.

Part 2: American Empire

Part 3: Valley of ...

(c) 2017 James LaFond, Mescaline Franklin & Lynn Lockhart

James LaFond Headquarters: Parts 1, 2 & 3

James has invited his readers into his secret lair on Caucasian Avenue in Baltimore.  Come inside the Toxic Treehouse, the Yo-Resistant Yurt, the Bullet-Blocking, Blade-Bristling Building....

(c) 2017 Lili Hun, James LaFond

James and Lynn talk Fiction Crackpot Podcast Episode 7

Welcome, friends, to long awaited Episode 7 of the Crackpot Podcast with James LaFond and Lynn Lockhart.  In this episode, we talk fiction, writing it and reading it, with a few digressions along the way.

Website uncertainty weighing on James' mind
World building as a fiction writer
Obsessive fans of complex worlds
Moby Dick, The Pale Usher
The Worm Ouroboros, through Ch. 1
English literature
Innocence of children in English society
Greek myth and literature in the wrastling (The Worm)
Fiction reading is so stressful
Risk taking & masculinity
Some Charlottesville talk
An example of heroism in Baltimore
Impulsiveness Conan vs committee meetings
Star Trek TNG
Link to the crazies beating a statue
End of the world literature
Planet Buzzkill
Bimbos at the end of the world
Back to The Worm, with the monkey-tailed ambassador
Could we interview the Khan?
Current events -- Charlottesville
Crackpot explanation for this insanity
James Damore

(c) 2017 James LaFond & Lynn Lockhart

The Taboo Hand

Cultivating the Elite Warrior in You

Do you have a desire to be counted a dangerous man?

If you do not, then your reticence has consigned you to be counted as less than a man according to the martial ethos from which many of us are descended, if only through our great-grandmothers having been raped by the cruel conquerors by which much of our patrimony descends through the ages.

Listening to the edited and reposted interview with Cory “The Roaming Viking” Bracken I have finally decided that I should advocate boxing as character development tool for the neo-masculine leadership.  Boxing should definitely be part of your man-gearing training.

The idea of the taboo hand of the long-armed Indo-European deity [pictured on an Illyrian vase in the 600s BC], the sun god [Apollo Helios] being the patron god of boxing, the sacrificial nature of Hellenic boxing and the strict prohibition on causing the death of your opponent, it is plausible that these are all, to a certain extent, derived from the natural aversion of the human to accept probing contact around the eyes.  This natural aversion to being stricken in the face renders normal people almost helpless in face-to-face combat with the trained and experienced boxer.    

Illyrian Boxers, from a bronze engraving, early 5th Century
Joseph Bellofatto, The Gods of Boxing

At 15 minutes we begin discussing a style of one-glove boxing, I would reference the utility in modern criminal altercations of slapping with one hand and punching with the other; it may indicate that the one-gloved boxing I discuss depicted in ancient Thera was not sacrificial but rather a practical application.

Even if boxing only develops the ability to keep your eyes probing down range while under fire, it is of great utility.

We will cover the issues with eyes in a combat environment in another section.

(c) 2017 James LaFond

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Pillagers of Time by James LaFond

A diverse team of time-travelers are tasked with recovering lost genes and genius’ from the deep past. 16th Century Seneca Child Savant Three-Rivers, the first person recovered from the past, and the time-traveler that originally contacted him, become suspicious of their sponsors’ motives and begin a chronological insurrection.

Available at the James LaFond site store.

Being a Bad Man in a Worse World by James LaFond

Fighting Smart: Boxing, Agonistics & Survival

Being a Bad Man in a Worse World is a three part handbook for the postmodern man:

-Boxing, learning in the gym and ring
-Agonistics, fighting with blades and sticks
-Survival in the streets of America during its escalating race war.

Available in paperback.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Union Memorial, Wyman Park Dell, Baltimore

Last month, before the events in Charlottesville on August 12, before the ensuing outcry against Confederate statuary, before the unannounced removal of the Confederate Monuments in the early darkness of August 16, James LaFond and Mescaline Franklin walked together in Wyman Park Dell, Baltimore.

James shared his knowledge of the Classical myth and symbolism displayed in the monuments, and Mescaline recorded video and audio as they examined the Union Soldiers and Sailors Monument.

(c) 2017 James LaFond, Mescaline Franklin, Lynn Lockhart

James LaFond on Rebel Yell

James was interviewed by the gentlemen at Rebel Yell a couple of weeks ago.  They discuss military history, James' fighting history, Baltimore's iconoclasm and continued cataclysm, white identity, white slavery, Magna Carta, Templar conspiracy theories, and more.  Listen all the way to the end for the song.

Malediction Song by James LaFond

Rise of the Nords: The Prequel to Reverent Chandler and NightSong of the Nords

More than 500 years after an attempt to counter global warming via the deployment of solar shield satellites plunged Earth into a precipitous Ice Age, the rapid cooling of mankind’s habitat is no longer a subject for debate, but rather a question of faith. As the crusading order of the Maledictine Creed seek to cleanse Mankind of its voluminous guilt and wash the world of sin, those men who have heard the call of the Old Gods sung by the North Wind seek a savage reckoning. This is the brutal prequel to Reverent Chandler: The Saga of Fend, told in three parts: Malediction Song: Rise of the Nords, Hammer of the Cumber Clans: The Patrimony of Est, and The First Cull: The Patrimony of Fend.

Available in paperback.

Good Morning, Dindustan! by James LaFond

Urban Life at the End of Caucasian Time

In Good Morning Dindustan! James LaFond, discoverer of Dindustan, examines the new aggression paradigm in Urban America, in over 100 articles. The author’s primary focus is on the anarcho-tyranny experiment known as Baltimore, Maryland, pilot city of the future—and it could be your future, so pay attention, Cracker. With articles by Lili Hun and Jeremy Bentham and Ishmael.

Available in paperback.