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Our Champion
On Masculine Bonds Beyond the Vaginal Horizon


Words matter.

What we do to them matters even more.

Today we have lost the actual vision of championship in the morass of modernity.

A few nights ago I sat at a table occupied by Keith, Dennis, Nero the Pict, InTheseGoingsDown, Ulric Kerensky, Manny Soprano [who seems taller without Brazilian bimbos crowding about him in high heels] and Sean, our champion, in the old sense, in the only sense that matters.

Our champion offered a number of toasts after his victory in the cage and it occurred between my ringing ears that we engaged in a now unusual act of segregation, as all-man gatherings are in no way sanctioned outside of fantasy football, that a table of like-minded men is deeply taboo amongst the sissy ranks of a society that rarely pictures a man outside of a feminine support role. Examine a selection of TV shows, newscasts, commercials [most importantly, newscasts and commercials] and also movies and it will be seen that the feminine is inserted everywhere. Women together, on their own, is a celebrated trope in cinema as it once was for bands of men—but no more. Even a band of heroes must now have a female warrior.

The ancient Hellenes, who are responsible for developing the concept of the hero and heroics as we once understood it, had their houses split by gender. Other societies have used many different traditions for segregating men and women and girls and boys, largely based around activities.

A reading of military history up until the Late Middle Ages supports the idea that the most successful war-making societies before the advent of industrialization shared three elements in respect to gender which proved advantageous:

-1. Men and women had distinctly exclusive spheres of group action and repose, each with gender exclusive economic activities and sacral rites.

-2. The individual man and woman had their own spiritual and personal life together, a bond sanctioned and bounded but not intruded upon, by the society.

-3. Women, individually and in organized and disorganized groups, had the moral authority to influence masculine action outside of coercive social channels, but via a purely inductive form of agency, the ability to inspire heroic action through elevation rather than subjugation and punish cowardice through humiliation, best exemplified by the practice of Spartan women demanding of their sons to die in combat rather than retreat, but also crucial to the cult of chivalry [arguably responsible for European colonization of much of the world]. This dynamic was present in various Stone Age and Iron Age societies currently under consideration.

This brings us back to the sullied nature of the prize-fighting championship, an economic place-holding position in a hybrid political-commercial sporting world which has been utterly hijacked [in the 1880s] by capitalist and government interests, from the organic masculine fraternities which birthed the sports themselves. This cultural appropriation has been conducted for the twin purposes of profit and cultural negation. In the era of the London Prize Ring, every combatant was a champion, the champion of the cause that was his fraternity, his club, his gang, his race, his neighborhood and ultimately his nation. The advent of national championships was the death knell of sports as fraternal binding agents for men, and the repurposing of these once sacral activities into diversionary phenomena for further addling the identity of the mindless masses.

As Civilization dies one broken soul at a time until that day when it is disemboweled of the ghosts it has eaten, men involved in combat—and nothing else—can, each team of them, have their champion, the man that was taken from us all almost 150 years ago when a blubberous newspaper publisher set himself up as the false god of heroes in a bid to elevate a single money-earner and thereby erase a thousand others from the ever-dimming mind of the passive collective.

Most of us sitting at that table were hurt helping our best man take that brutal stage, a man who had taken it for the old reason and new what it was that he held in his clenched hands.

Notes on Sponsors

My dozen or so sponsors are sponsors of a moral kind, who support the entire dissident presence by posting online honest content not aimed at our manipulation but simply as a gift of information. These people are not financially supporting my crimes against ascendant inhumanity and often disagree with me on many things.

Read contrarian counter-intelligence at http://www.ronaldthomaswest.com

Add Comment
MannyNovember 16, 2018 11:58 PM UTC

I watched Sean’s fight again on the Lancaster Agonistics Youtube page. He was looking good and dominating the other fighter. Congrats to him again.
Bruno DiasNovember 14, 2018 8:08 PM UTC

Great work James. Missed your word, oh White Shaman of Violence.
responds:November 14, 2018 11:39 PM UTC

Thanks Bruno.

In sparring, every time he tapped me with a jab, my nose sounded like a Styrofoam cup getting stepped on. I'm not worth a shit in the ring anymore so I'm glad to help someone else.