Lockhart's Top LaFonds Volume 90

Good morning friends!


Axe training and fighting is a topic in an upcoming podcast, too!

Ancient Irish poetry, this is all new to me, very beautiful.

How to bring the mindset of a fighter into your life for less fighting, more peace.

A climate update from the person most unlike Greta Thunberg on earth.

A Colin Flaherty and MurderBowl update.

Is adoption another American value that comes from Native Americans?  What other cultures of people in the world actively seek other people's children to raise as their own?

The train people do not want James prophesying over their precious rails.  US will never be Japan or China.

Latecomers to Christianity adopted the most efficient and austere forms, and the preceding cultures were more effectively removed, thank you, James, for answering my question!

James helps us understand the cultural dynamics of our new Technological Dark Age.

The tranny wars have opened up the boxing front.

Movie fight review, an improvised fight scene.

James seems like a caveman sometimes because he is a human in a post-human world, and therefore, one of the best among us.  So happy to have a new friend from the future Belligerent State of Appalachia, another grocery, stabbing and wench expert too!

An absolute treasure trove of videos!!!

(c) 2019 Lynn Lockhart

Starter Pack-Crackpot Podcast 64

Hello friends, this short episode is an introduction to James's writing in several genres, featuring the books that I, with my vaginal authority, have selected for your enjoyment.

The Crackpot Podcast features James LaFond, who has written so many books it literally took me months to count them, and Lynn Lockhart, an obsessive book counter.

Audio:




BitChute:

YouTube:

0:01:55  James LaFond Starter Pack, and main BOOKSTORE
0:15:55  Reverent Chandler
0:21:45  Masculine Axis
0:27:35  Cracker-Boy
0:37:39  The Violence Project
0:42:40  Big Ron's Baltimore
0:49:20  White in the Savage Night


(c) 2019 Lynn Lockhart

Lockhart's Top LaFonds Volume 89

I think it's still Saturday.  I got a lot of sun today, so I'm a little fuzzy.

Thank you, James, so much for this lovely dose of fresh, ripped from the headlines, fiction.  I missed it!

This Corn Pop story has actually endeared Joe Biden to me.  What's going on is that Joe's brand of wokeness is outdated and he hasn't updated his programming to the newest iteration, such an update would surely freeze the operating system and a factory reset is out of the question.  Joe has been talking about outreach to black families to help them rise up (90s era anti-racism), where the current thinking is that the power of the state must be brought down on white men to crush them.

Many of our kind will watch these videos and feel a Chuck Norris rule of the mind.  They can't see it.

Women's lib, Paleface Indian style, I like it.

Back in my serious office job days I used to document harassment to preserve my own sanity and told all my bosses that I loved the job and would never quit, so they were all quite shocked...

James, you and Zman are in good company, Heartiste has long written about "good whites" and "bad whites" and this was also discussed on the forum where I found your website, mpcdot.com. 

Polymachus is a big brain fella, that's for sure.  Stand back in awe as these gentlemen take it apart and put it back together.

My children were menaced by a pair of massive pitbulls at the beach today.  The mulatta dyke who owned them could not keep both on leash.  I picked up my smaller child and stepped repeatedly between my larger child and the dog.  She moved down the beach and lost control again, this time, I was armed with the heavy plastic handle of a large sand shovel.  A Paleface man nearby got up from his repose to grab the leash of the loose dog and hand it to the woman.  The three beasts then left the beach and I walked off the adrenaline.

(c) 2019 Lynn Lockhart

Lockhart's Top LaFonds Volume 88

Your weekend links are very late, I was busy surfing and swimming and sunbathing all weekend.

I believe in blood memory but I am extremely skeptical of the "science" backing it up, as these are mostly focused on extending the effective grifts based on certain practices that ceased in 1865 and other events that occurred approximately 70 years ago in Europe.  All us Palefaces have forest dwellers and grasslanders in our bloodlines. 

James is learning how to be a Paleface Indian in the high country.

Introducing a new correspondent on combat and living out of the scope of our governmental and corporate overlords.

Ummm, 10 shots of tequila? Ay caramba!

Portland is in open rebellion to the rest of Oregon, as well as DC.  No one will do anything.

The must-watch video of 2019.

This video is good, too.  I think towards the end, the young fellow has a knife in his left hand also, does anyone else see that, around 0:36.

Corporate policies are turning to "family" structures, to lure and retain Millennial employees who don't have families of their own.

The scale of the pharmaceutical experiment being performed on the American people is staggering.

I agree, Mexicans would not put up with student-on-teacher beatings.

Beware insidious peace.

James LaFond FAQ - why don't you own a gun?

James LaFond FAQ - why don't your books have illustrations?

You guys are making me blush, but more importantly, another James LaFond FAQ - how to find suitable training wherever you live, and train with improvisational weapons.

Going to battle is not as traumatic as the waiting and uncertainty.

A didgeridoo is a noise maker, like a vuvuzela. 

Take a plunge into etymology and Plantation America psychology.'

Ahab practices Plantation economics and social structure at sea, just like the other Puritans did on land.

Both school conditions and work conditions are intentionally made to be aggressively unpleasant.

I can't believe I'm saying this but, yes, I admit, the Hodge Twins are cute, but their talking gets on my nerves pretty quick. 

When cops kill oppressed individuals, it's friendly fire, I LOVE this.  There is a very good discussion here about talking, will go into this on a podcast.

Attention!  Your precious fur baby is in DANGER. 

James is always on the lookout for improvised weapons testing.

Let James be your guide in getting to know Robert E. Howard.

John Paul Barber is encouraging the boss in his fitness efforts! (If you like boxing talk, rejoice, John Paul Barber will probably join us for another Crackpot Podcast in the coming months!)

I hereby invite Confederate gentlemen to invade, conquer and rule over California.  There is great real estate here and some nice people (me and mine). 

(c) 2019 Lynn Lockhart

‘The Iron Harp’

James LaFond's impression of Dark Valley Destiny: The Life of Robert E. Howard by De Camp, De Camp & Griffin, Bluejay Books, 1961-83, 402 pages.

Imagine if you were a boy who was very different in outlook, born out of time if you will, brutally beat up in early elementary school, sickly in middle school years, and then, when you had grown strong and smart and the bullying stopped, you found out that school and its brain-washing teachers did not interest you—but you were told by society that your way out of the local world you didn’t fit into was through more school, and seated jobs, even though you had come to be a physical man.  Imagine having well-read parents who told stories and encouraged you to do the same, and thence wanting to be a writer.  This would, and had, with early writers, ignited a wanderlust, a feature that would become the centerpiece of Howard’s fantasy characters, but which he couldn’t engage in without abandoning his mother as she slowly died.  Now return to imagining that you are Howard, or his spirit and that three school-teacher, money-maker types, two of them Yankee academics, decided to write your story according to the incestuous theories of the perverted coke head Sigmund Freud.

Dark Valley Destiny is a biography of a counter-culture traditionalist written by the very sissy church-ladies of modernity who extinguished his stripe of writer.  The book went through many editions, is very strong on local East Texas history and biographical detail, and was focused as a commercial venture on the Conan character, as the lead author was the editor of that resurrected body of work—with CONAN the largest word on the cover.  This book is by fits and turns excellent and disgusting, with the authors obviously jealous of Howard’s natural ability yet wishing he had taken their academic course instead, in awe of the money he posthumously put in their pockets yet declaring that he would have served the world better as a book keeper or accountant, dismissive of much of his work as trash and seemingly wishful that he would have been like them and made no lasting imprint on the human consciousness.

Most disturbing were the authors’ constant insistence that the Howard family, troubled, with a sick mother who cock-blocked her son relentlessly as she died, was the problem with Robert, the reason why he committed suicide.  There are many things revealed and swept away as unworthy of consideration, such as Robert’s brutal experience being bullied in early grade school, which is nicely illuminated with a quote by Texas author Larry McMurtry and then forgotten as they accuse Howard of making up imaginary enemies later in life when in fact he had experiential reasons for suspecting that he would be attacked someday.  Such blindness is the gift of cozy modernity, a life of bookish ease in which one is not rudely reminded of the seething cruelty lurking just below the surface of human society.

Robert’s parents had fallen out early, very displeased with each other, and had molded the family unit to focus on their son, their joy, both of them immensely proud of him and eventually dependent upon him.  Robert became very strong swinging a sledge against a post every day, singing and shadow boxing on county roads and typing away at night.  He bought the car that took his mother to clinics, paid her bills and became a partner in financing the family with his father who openly loved him and was obviously the model for the fierce, black-haired blue-eyed warriors such as Kull, Kane, Bran Mak Morn, Black Vulmea and Conan.  His father was also a generous man, a doctor who treated patients on the promise of produce while his mother wanted the womanish things that only money may buy.

He had a lifelong obsession with suicide, lived like a visitor on this planet and wrote of suicide longingly in no less than 7 works.  Yet the authors blame his suicide on his parents, zeroing in on his father, who brought people over to watch Robert, who hid one of his guns and to whom Robert declared calmly that he would be killing himself and that he knew his father—heroized in so many tales—had the mettle to go on with life.  Robert seems to have been tender about his discussion with his father and shot himself in the head before his mother expired to trick the suicide watch.  Besides, the sickly boy had grown into a bull of a man with a quiet resolve and was not going to be deterred.

The authors continued to suggest that Howard was dependent on his mother, that she made him weak, misinterpreting the evidence they show, that he did not ever argue with her, quietly did as he pleased against her wishes, nursed her, keeping vigil by her bed and conducting hospice care all night, transported her and regarded her quite obviously as a vulnerable dependent under his care, despite her passive-aggressive attempts to keep him from seeing young women.  Hester Howard was a shit mother in many ways, but she supported her son in his creative work, unlike most modern mothers who stand as gatekeepers and invalidators against their son’s dreams.

Isaac Howard, while as shit a husband as his wife was a shit wife, was devoted to her care regardless and also to the development of his son, of whom he was obviously proud.  When young Robert, bent on suicide, tenderly informs his father that he is strong enough to go on and asks where he will go when Robert is gone, his father, in his response, says that he will go were his son goes, revealing that the 30 year old son had become the leader of the family, more than its focus—this reader keeping in mind that his parents were in their 60s.  Robert E. Howard seems to have only remained among the living to keep from hurting his mother, and he never lived to see the age of his parents when he was born, having lived less than half their spans.

According to those he left behind, Howard, though strange, was kind, giving and helpful and always gave more to a relationship than he got, with vast spans of quiet politeness, punctuated by occasional loud song, incessant typing, public shadowboxing and moments of acute paranoia about whatever memories or demons haunted him. He was a man who dated a beautiful willful woman for many long hours and never tried to have sex with her although she said of him that he was a passionate kisser.  Howard’s life, reads to this reader as a visitation by a soul unfit for his time and place yet dedicated to those who shared his exile space.  Loyalty to Howard was a talisman.

This reader is indebted to the wretched authors of Dark Valley Destiny for their work and forgiving of their twisted opinions, for they wrote when the world that Howard somehow intuitively knew was a lie, was in its glory season, its fat time of fleeting plenty borne on false wings, and they its delicately budding fruit of delusion.  Howard’s biographers come off as the lotus eating zombies of various dying cities he wrote of in his fiction.

Howard was deeply sensitive about death and suffering in others yet longed for his own end.  As a person who tried to will myself to suicide every night as a teenager as I sat in bed with my knife, unable to bring myself to do the thing because of the image of my mother crying hysterically over my gutted body, I can empathize with someone as out of place in life as Robert E. Howard, and also with him not wanting to hurt his mother by way of his departure while also assuming his father could handle his death.

To close with some of Howard’s suicide poetry, typed moments before his suicide:

All fled—all done, so lift me on the pyre;
The feast is over and the lamps expire.

And from The Tempter:

“Who are you?” I asked the phantom,
“I am Rest from Hate and Pride.
“I am friend to king and beggar,
“I am Alpha and Omega,
“I was councilor to Hagar
“But men call me Suicide.”
I was weary of tide breasting,
Weary of the world’s behesting,
And I lusted for the resting
As a lover for his bride.

Throughout Howard’s own work suicide is considered as the last honorable act of the doomed, a taking away of oneself from the fields of humiliation which some experience in life.  For a postmodern look at a Howard like character, I would suggest the movie Phenomenon, starring John Travolta, the story of a socially awkward rural man stricken with an odd insight that set his mind to racing.  Howard’s prodigious output as a writer and considering his age, his odd jobs and the care of his mother and time spent musing alone and in company, suggests that his mind might have been locked into some kind of overdrive, which may have driven his death wish as much as his sense of being a man out of place and out of time.

Thanks to Nero the Pict for the loan of this important book.

(c) 2019 James LaFond

Doctor Dread-Crackpot Podcast 63

Good people get fed up, so says Doctor Dread.  I really enjoyed speaking with David, a perfect gentleman, yet a man who relishes putting limbs back together in the OR as much as he enjoys wrenching them apart in the gym.  David and I talked (the Crackpot was unavailable) about his history with the combat arts, his friendship with James, growing up in Baltimore, the ups and downs of a libertarian point of view, the medical field under Obamacare, what may lie ahead, gender issues and more.  We have many more topics to cover, such as pain management, the opioid crisis, coaching a high school team, and with James in the conversation, the talk will surely turn to cavemannish relationship anecdotes and advice.  I hope we get to talk again very soon.

The Crackpot Podcast features writer, fighter and central node for an amazing circle of friends, and Lynn Lockhart, a sleep deprived mother slave.

Audio:




YouTube:

BitChute:

0:02:15  How did Doctor Dread get started in martial arts?
0:05:22  Doc's favorite book, writing
0:08:00  How did Doc become a doc?
0:13:27  Fell's Point, 1968 riots
0:18:50  Two James LaFond fans gush
0:21:24  Do you have to pick a side?
0:25:32  Baltimore
0:29:15  Meeting Heart
0:41:04  The medical field
1:03:40  Pathetic, despicable, DISGUSTING
1:11:45  Global cluster fornication of crap
1:21:30  Globalization of medical professionals
1:26:45  Being at war with reality

(c) 2019 Lynn Lockhart

Lockhart's Top LaFonds Volume 87

Weekend Links!



Many scientists are as inclined towards faith as the most zealous churchgoer.

A friend of the Crackpot has written a book of poetry.

If you want to understand slavery, why not hear it from the sources directly?

Philip K. Dick seems to have done a lot of drugs and generally had good results.

Melville draws the contrast between the world of the hunt and the world of the market.

Self-determination of peoples is only allowed if the people determine they want to be part of globo-homo.

Here's the chance to read something from near the end of a book in progress.

The most shocking part of our cultural and genetic replacement is that so many of the replacees are cheering it on.

James reviews a really nasty video.

Watch as James preserves the purity of his caveman brain in discussion with a really smart fellow.

No one can touch Baltimore in the Murder Bowl, pound for pound, bullet for bullet.

Banjo and James discuss diet and exercise.

(c) 2019 Lynn Lockhart

‘This Quilt of Night’

Creative Impressions of the Opening Chapter of an Epic Novel

A friend of Crackpot Industries has been kind enough to send me a sample of his first novel. Since I have enjoyed the peek into another writer’s vision, I will place my impressions of the opening scene of his epic tale in hopes that he might be able to extract a blurb from it that will do him some good in shopping the manuscript. I will follow with some advice on shaping his vision for the readership that awaits, because this kind of story has a readership that SITS now uninspired and cast adrift in the shadow of their forefathers’ betrayal. 

The most gripping passages:

“Tartarus is the void that all succumb to, if they choose the comfort of eventuality. To cease to move is to accept the pull of the forever falling anvil.” 

“His words were chopped in half by fits of bizarre giggling, his insane guffaws the executioner’s block of his wit, and his malice the blade.”

The storyline:

I very much like having a Greek-Roman soldier’s tortured soul as the protagonist. But be careful of what period of the Eastern Empire you set his earlier life in and be sure to preserve the tension between the Christian and the pagan. I’d suggest checking your work against Pagans and Christians by Robin Lane Fox and whatever Michael Grant [I read two titles touching this and cannot recall the titles] [Ed. note: Perhaps Constantine the Great: The Man and his Times, and The Fall of the Roman Empire?] has put out concerning the Eastern Roman Empire of the transitional period.

It’s about time that someone revisits the epics in fiction, and [title redacted] opens up a sack of unslain serpents that beg to be put to rest by an Aryan hero. The gods and the poets are not exempt from the attentions of the hero or the judgments of the Fates.  

Exposition:

Reduce the number of deities in the first chapter and don’t directly address their attributes but use inference. You really want to spoon feed current readers ancient metaphysics one element per chapter.

The best narrative element:

Your use of the ancient poet beckoning the slain hero from the afterlife is absolutely great. When you get a story hook this good, you want to trim down other elements and really ’roid this one up. The simplest place to start is permitting the narrative voice no exposition of the poet, no judgment of his work and limit the revelation these two aspects and any other exposition concerning the past lives of the poet and the hero to their interaction.

Writing an epic for postmodern readers:

There are few readers for any masculine fantasy or speculative fiction outside of military science-fiction. There are readers, but they will be people who already have a heavy reading load of non-fiction. Selling to overtaxed readers calls for releasing your epic in novelette or novella length in a cycle, which is also congruent with your mythic theme. Think in terms of Homer and Virgil, whose works were closer to pulp fiction of the 1920s and 30s than any postmodern novelist. You can put it all between two covers later in an omnibus. Tolkienesque pacing is something that now appeals generally to soy boys and babes.

Keeping your reader:

This is done by getting them to turn the page, so you need to write in a page format that approximates the printed page and/or reduce the length of any chapter like this that does not have action. The most important page to turn is the one to the next chapter, and you did that here. Now, you have to make sure you do this for every one or two pages. Writing guidelines that do not address this basic mechanic are full of shit. Once an indie author gets his reader, he really needs to keep him. If you’ve got 100,000 words, I’d break the content into 10 slim volumes [like the Aeneid] and then go back and trim the segments one at a time, with attention to page turning, with no thought of the next volume, trusting yourself to smooth the narrative as you go. Because you must keep your reader turning the page. Ruthlessly reducing word count is your best narrative weapon. What you have is fine, but go in and reshape it like every paragraph is an attempt to grab someone’s guts.

Good luck and thanks for the look ahead.  

(c) 2019 James LaFond