I think I just typed out the opening page of a book.

[expatriot]

a philisophical written in a mythopoetic style on the foundations of conservative political ideology... tell me what you thinki:


Where lay the roots of conservatism, most certainly in the basest and foulest antediluvian instincts of beasts; that to gain and preserve power by domination are the holiest tenants of the ancestral godhead.

The conservative passionately defends the old institutions, customs and doctrines because the past fits his world view quite nicely; it supports his self-interests, either real or perceived. To the conservative, custom and habit are safe places of fetal comfort and any attack upon those dearly held structures are met with a desperate rallying cry to defend the antebellum hearth and home from the alien, the heretic, the radical and the Communist. This paranoid defense of the antique is either out of quite practical self-interests, the best example being those with comfortable estates who espouse a conservative ideology to fend off the socialist riff-raff from plundering his well-earned property. Yet conservatism is the most fanatic and maniacal when it springs forth from less translucent psychological recesses of the self; those sorry yet ferocious sort of henchmen which form the ranks of the conservative home guard, those who are by no means wealthy but who find an ideological anesthetic in the creed, an opium that soothes the wounds of economic and social alienation with a fantastic mythology that whispers to them coaxingly that they are the heirs of a divinely-backed empire which reigned in that forever golden era of the past, and then those sirens seduce them with the pledge that by their service in the beer-hall paramilitary they will be given the gift of the golden age once again. The poor ignorant lackeys, that narcotic drug of myth has bound them into the service of evil, they lash out at the foreigner and the Other for being the impurity which prevents their Holy Nation from being lifted up by the hand of God to the full attainment of heaven on earth. What perfect sheep they are for the king and capitalist their shepherd! With the innocence of children they are told tales of terror at bedtime of how phantom wolves have circled their nursery and threaten their mother’s bed. Yet it is the capitalist, the king, who whisper to them who are the true molesters which have slipped in through the cracked window, but these poor children listen! Your Father is away in heaven right now, they say, ‘you, my boy, are your Mother Nation’s only hope… rise up in her defense! Here come the invaders now! See how they prowl in the shadows… the socialist, the black man, the homosexual, the intellectual, the Mohammedan!’ Oh and these poor little boy warriors answer the molesters battle cry, all they ever wanted was a tribe to die for and a fertility goddess to suck her teat of nationhood.