The guns might have fallen silent on November 11th, 1918, but the impetus that set them off in the first place certainly didn’t.
But enough of such gloominess. Aren’t centennials fun? Whether it be a celebration of a hundred years of the ice cream sundae or of Kirk Douglas’s birthday, one can always find some sort of vacuous anniversary to pay the most facile of homage to when you really should be working instead. But on the surface, the centennial of the popular conception of the end of the First World War inculcates a more solemn mien. After all, it is the impetus behind the annual mini-vacations of Veteran’s Day in the US and Remembrance Day in Canada, and who could fail to be grateful for a day of couch-potato caprice right before the onset of another long cold winter? If it wasn’t for the troops, you might be looking for something to binge-watch on Netflix in German, yuh ingrate!!!
And make no mistake: not far underneath the somber drum solos, wreath-layings, and playing of ‘Taps’, there is still very much a smug self-assurance that Murika, once again, came galloping in to save the day from the sinister forces of non-Murika. One skirmish at Belleau Wood is worth a dozen Somme and Marne offensives put together, I guess. All the reserved chest-thumping on display is, of course, merely a warmup exercise for the gargantuan kegger we can expect in twenty-seven years’ time for the centennial of WWII’s end, when President Sasha Obama will no doubt encourage us to celebrate the great victory that gave Stalin a reason to go on living for another seven and a half years.
Most pathetic of all, though: these aren’t even pyrrhic victories being celebrated, but merely a masquerade that mindlessly wafts away long into the night while outside, the Red Death holds sway over all. For the only thing that ended on that November 18th was the first phase of a long, drawn-out war of demonic attrition that continues full bore into this current year.
With the notable exception of the antichrist Napoleon, prior to the 20th century it was considered a fool’s errand to attempt to foist a New International Order encompassing the panoply of Europe, thus bucking the ordained reality of the ‘balance of power’ dynamic held as holy writ till the Metternichs and Bismarcks began to depart from the scene. ‘Twasn’t for lack of effort on the part of utopians, though, and despite the failure of the French Communards after the Franco-Prussian War, their Gallic brand of idealized collectivization would provide sufficient romantic folderol to inspire Fabian-oriented idealists and their fellow (((travellers))) to create something similar in macrocosm. If it took a ‘little’ blood being spilled to bring this about…well, broken eggs and omelettes, and all that. And while it took 40+ years to get the diplomatic pressure cooker up to full boil via a series of baffling interlocking treaties and an English-German naval race never before rivaled in its ferocious competition, it all paid handsome dividends when Princip capped Franz Ferdinand and started those dominoes tumbling. But realistically, what could they hope to accomplish within a mere four years – a tiny passing of wind within the grandiose gastrointestinal turmoil that is the Marxist interpretation of history? Nay, centralized global tyranny cannot be established within a fortnight, and our enemies are nothing if not forward-thinking to a neurotic degree. Surely the Cause would be worth a generational struggle if anything ever was? Thus, the loose ends left by the end of WWI would be dealt with again in WWII (with a massive economic depression filling up the interregnum to ensure a fresh supply of naive meat for the western armies when the time was ripe) – which immediately led to a power vacuum which was subsequently picked up during the Cold War – which immediately left behind in its wake a void of purpose and of mission which was subsequently picked up during the War on Terror….you get the drill. And during all these supposedly separate and stand-alone epochs, the forces of internationalism have not once receded to any noticeable degree – it hardly matters if it has been the British Empire of the Soviet Union or the United States acting as chief torchbearer. The mighty subterfuge of militant Trotskyism on the march has always emerged triumphant.
Of course, you cannot exercise a wicked suzerainty upon a prostrate planet without making mincemeat out of one of the major hindrances to such a benevolent end – ethnic distinctions built upon the rock of Christianity. And what better way to embark upon this venture than by killing off the flower of Western European manhood beforehand? And for all of Woodrow Wilson’s lofty fourteen-pointed rhetoric about the primacy of ‘national self-determination’, he was among the worst offenders of this lot, with his enthusiastic overseeing of the creation of the polyglot conglomerate of Czechoslovakia and his tacit approval of the creation of the even more polyglot conglomerate of Iraq, to name two notorious examples. Little wonder, then, if modern-day cohenservative Presbyterians hold a rather thinly veiled admiration for the Presbyterian Wilson – he was one of their own in more ways than one! At any rate, this agenda of ‘sustainable Babelism’ has also continued unadulterated from 1918 up to the present time, with such fun-loving antics as the post-WWII mass German repatriation, the Mau Mau uprising, abortion on demand, and transgender awareness being merely a handful of the direct descendants of this humanitarian program of systemic Caucasian loathing.
Let us not overlook the financing mechanism for the Great War, either. After all, if lives are going to be held cheap, shouldn’t the shekels needful to send them into harm’s way be, as well? What better means to take the newly-incorporated Federal Reserve system of the United States for a test spin than via war debts? And oh, the windfall that was wrought! Turns out issuing war bonds for sale and paying out the proceeds with severely inflated fiat greenbacks later on was a lucrative little scheme – and implementing a ‘temporary’ income tax certainly didn’t hurt the shopping spree, either. Seeing the amazing amount of stuff that this ingenious bit of socialized counterfeiting could throw into the maelstrom in both this and the ensuing war, Britain, France, and Germany would go on to adopt a similar banking structure and pretend that their postwar ‘prosperity’ was entirely dependent upon Keynesian finagling of prime interest rates here, there, and everywhere also. As a result, centralized banking (and its related offshoot fractional reserve banking) are still very much in power today and still growing with malignant force. Thank the War Against the Kaiser for that, too.
So to sum up, no – 1918 never resolved a blessed thing. Indeed, even WWI can be construed as a mere continuation of the entire 18th-century Enlightenment campaign against Christendom, in order that ‘reason’ might prevail – and there’s nothing more reasonable than lying in a crater saturated with filth watching a rat chow down on your paralyzed and gangrenous leg. The pastoralism of old Europe was destroyed for one and all times, to be replaced with a new ‘sophistication’ in world affairs. And what is sophistication? An insistence on viewing everything through a relativist shade of gray – whether morality, financial solvency, standards of beauty, race, etc.
We are living under our own Hundred Years’ War, and it ain’t over by a long shot.
If you insist on laying a wreath for something this Veterans/Remembrance Day, lay one in mournful recollection of that fact.