Monday 26 June 2023


"If one distorts faith in Christ by uniting it with the goals of this world, the whole meaning of Christianity will at once also be destroyed and the mind will necessarily fall prey to unbelief." Dostoyevsky

"Everything ends this way in France — everything. Weddings, christenings, duels, burials, swindlings, diplomatic affairs — everything is a pretext for a good dinner." Jean Anouilh

“To eat well in England you should have breakfast three times a day.” Somerset Maugham. But steak and kidney pudding and lemon meringue pie are sublime.

"I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout."
William Butler Yeats, The Song of Wandering Aengus

"The British leave the EU not as narrow-minded snobs but proud democrats who no longer want to put up with the EU's flaws." Die Welte, 26 June 2016

From 27 June, 2016.


  1. Self Made Man by Norah Vincent

    Miz Vincent recently committed suicide in some evil Swiss death chamber, so I decided to check out her most famous book. I’ll admit it, I read the thing based on a (sympathetic) 4chan meme about her. She was a mannish lesbian who dressed up like a man, and got into shenanigans. She hung out with some working class dudes at titty bars and a bowling league and found out she rather liked them and thought they were more decent humans than most of her chick friends. She also attempted to date women as a man and found out that it’s difficult to be a man, and that a lot of single women (particularly the 30-somethings) were useless emotional toddlers who were absurdly self absorbed and saw others as emotional hankeys rather than other people. Of course, the ones who weren’t emotional toddlers probably noticed she was a chick posing as a dude and didn’t go out with her, but all her bad dates will be amusingly familiar to anyone who has ever been out with an American woman in her 30s from the tinders. Other forays, a crappy sales job, a monastery and a “Robert Bly” men’s retreat. She then lost her marbles, having a good old fashioned nervous breakdown and gives her conclusions, which are that being a man is a lot of work (duh) and that men aren’t in touch with their feelings -with the assumption in mind that men would be better off if they were. One of the things she didn’t seem to have the self awareness to notice is all of her venues were some kind of extreme outskirts of manhood -effectively the nerdy table at high school. I mean, if I were looking for “the patriarchy” -which it seemed she was, strip clubs, bowling leagues and monasteries are unlikely places to search for them. I guess the reality is high functioning male circles are a place she’s basically never going to find because as she realized, she couldn’t be a high functioning male. She was an interesting and honest but fucked up person, and it’s really a shame she couldn’t pull it together well enough to, like, not kill herself. I guess a man would say something like that. This isn’t a book I’d recommend unless you’re particularly interested in the topic or want to redpill a particularly deluded shitlib. To be honest it seems to be written for people with the IQ of celery. I suppose her audience is dimwitted teenage girls with blue hair who are contemplating a septum ring. I enjoyed it anyway as a quick read.

    Book reviews by Scott Locklin

    1. "To be honest it seems to be written for people with the IQ of celery." Hee hee.