COLD, ICE COLD

by Brett Stevens

Philosopher Nick Land talks about the transition that the West is currently experiencing as a shift from being nice to being more realistic. “Nice” is like bourgeois values: offend no one, befriend everyone, and always gesture vividly toward your acceptance of all people, behaviors and ideas.

Naturally, this niceness is fatal to any group because it opposes the idea of standards, as well as the basic notion of finding some things to be true and others not and therefore unacceptable as answers to certain questions. To be nice, one must believe that all people are basically the same and thus are “universal,” or uniformly good for the most part.

The problem with nice is that it is a form of competition. If your neighbors are nicer than you, you are seen as a less desirable business partner, mate, customer, friend, coworker, and seller. When one person on the block goes down the path of nice, the others must “keep up with the Joneses” and virtue signal their niceness as well.

HYPER-RACISM

by Nick Land

While I generally seeks to spread dismay whenever the opportunity arises, I cannot pretend to a huge obsession with what might be described as ordinary racism. When perusing the thought-crimes of the mainstream racist community, it is continually afflicted by a sense of overwhelming unreality. This is not (of course), because races do not exist, or do not differ significantly, or … whatever. The most politically incorrect cognitive position on almost every point of this kind is reliably closer to reality than its more socially-convenient and comforting alternatives.

The problem with ordinary racism is its utter incomprehension of the near future. Not only will capabilities for genomic manipulation dissolve biological identity into techno-commercial processes of yet-incomprehensible radicality, but also … other things.

GO SCOTLAND!

by Nick Land

Tribal politics excites the autobiographical impulse, which I’ll pander to for just a moment (without pretending to any particular excitement). My immediate ancestry is a quarter Scottish, and — here’s the thing — those grandparents were Wallaces. Seriously, they were these guys.

…but it’s my remaining three-quarters of mongrelized Brit that is leading this post to its destination. In particular, the 37.5% of English blood coursing through my veins is the part murmuring most enthusiastically for Scotland to vote ‘Yes!’ to departure this week.