(This is my Author’s note from the latest collection of ramblings. Get it via the links below.)
Music fills the room as I attempt to write this introduction to this second collection of my very own home-grown writings, ravings, rants and ramblings.
Staring out the window, I see grey rubble, busted concrete, stones and bricks… pure destruction on the construction site.
Grey skies. Cold winds. A not insignificant threat of rain.
Grey buildings silhouetted against the grey sky.
An end-of-the-world feeling eats its way through everything. Blame Corona-chan for this apocalypse sensation; locking us down, forcing us into self-isolation to appease the beast and keep the viral pandemic at bay, subdued and somehow controlled.
Though, of course, for a pseudo-hermit such as myself, nothing much has changed excepting that a lot of businesses are closed… and the mail is even slower than usual.
What a year 2020 turned out to be, and as early as this! It does not bode well for the remainder of the year. What a fucking let-down this whole thing is, man.
Originally, I wrote an author’s note for this collection back in December of 2019, planning for a release in February or March of 2020. Things got in the way, however – external happenings over which I had no control, forcing a later release-date.
Hopefully all will now go as planned, and this collection of contrarian ramblings will find its place in the overflowing bookshelves of distinguished and scholarly gentlemen and ladies of culture, class and good breeding sometime in the merry month of May, 2020.
Yet, who the hell knows anything any more?
Nothing is ever certain. Over night, things became even more uncertain.
Hopefully I will manage it this time, as I won’t then be forced to write another introduction to these ramblings. Though, admittedly, being a sufferer of chronic keyboard-diarrhoea such as I am, writing an introduction is not a problem.
Ending it is.
I do not talk much, but by God do I write much.
Probably too much, come to think of it.
Oh well, that can’t be helped.
The ramblings within were originally published on my blog ( https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/ ) from January through December of 2019.
2019 was a remarkably rough year for me, with illness and pains and stress and struggles and trials and tribulations galore. More like than not, this is reflected in the ramblings within.
For better or for worse.
There are some pieces I did not include in this collection. Some of them ended up as being very repetitious. This may very well be all fine and dandy for a blog updated on a weekly basis. Not so much for a book, in my humble opinion.
Those who have followed the blog and/or my channels on YouTube and BitChute may perhaps notice that the “Why I am an Anti-feminist” series is absent from this collection. There is a simple reason for this: I aim to publish them in a volume for themselves.
Such a professional rambler am I.
Just gotta clean them up first, using all the professionalism granted me from my furious attempts at iron-willed self-discipline.
As we all should well know: the most important thing with a book is having a snappy title and an eye-catching cover.
I have yet to figure out either for the anti-feminist series.
The insides don’t matter any more. Our cultures suddenly decided that judging a book on its cover was the way to go.
Contradicting all prior wisdom and knowledge in the process.
I can not stand identity-politics at the best of times. Now, at the worst of times, I find I really and truly abhor it. Superficial traits has become the only thing that matters. And it is so cheap, so simple, so naive and so – ultimately – dehumanizing. Reducing people to their genitals, the colour of their skin and their sexuality is way too fucking quick-and-easy.
No wonder it got to be as popular as it is. We are losing our ability to focus, to concentrate, to spend any amount of time on anything.
Everything has to be quick, easy, simple and superficial… plastic and synthetic. Identity-politics is the product of a society gone astray, devolving into hedonism, decadence, debauchery and simplicity.
NOW it happens.
And NOW it is gone.
Nothing happens between the NOW and the NOW. Nothing substantial. Nothing that can be grasped, held and enjoyed. Straight from the NOW and straight onto the next NOW. With no thought about what consequence, if any, the NOW has on anything. Particularly not on the NOW.
Now we find ourselves in the grip-and-claw-and-teeth of a global crisis; a pandemic, in fact. The chickens come home to roost. NOW has suddenly become there, then, what, where and when. It is remarkably strange to experience. And I am curious to see what the outfall will be, curious to see if our priorities will shift when this crisis is over and done with.
Suddenly, there was something real and not imagined or manufactured to fight.
The brave solipsist warriors of moral virtue and navel-gazing social justice have no imagined and manufactured ill to fight any more. There is something true, something real, something substantial knocking at the door… something with real consequences… something worse than the latest Iphone being too big for the tiny hands of women; something more terrifying than the horrendously sexist air-conditioning.
Only time will tell what happens next. And what a time it will be!
In the meantime, I hope you will enjoy reading this book. I enjoyed writing the ramblings within very much.
Remember: it is quite alright to recommend it to friends and family as well.
How in the world am I supposed to feel like a true and proper professional writer, even if my writings is the product of naught but a humble thought-crime salesman, if I did not push my ramblings by proxy on unsuspecting victims of said thought-crimes? I hope you will enjoy the ramblings within. They are best enjoyed with a bottle of red wine, a glass of Xanax and a rusty chainsaw. As is how life is always best enjoyed.
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- Moiret Allegiere, 12.06.2020