“The so-called 'Left-Hand Path' - that of Kaulas, Siddhas and Viras - combines the... Tantric worldview with a doctrine of the Übermensch which would put Nietzsche to shame... The Vira - which is to say: the 'heroic' man of Tantrism - seeks to sever all bonds, to overcome all duality between good and evil, honor and shame, virtue and guilt. Tantrism is the supreme path of the absolute absence of law - of shvecchacarī, a word meaning 'he whose law is his own will'." ― Julius Evola, The Path of Cinnabar.

“It is necessary to have “watchers” at hand who will bear witness to the values of Tradition in ever more uncompromising and firm ways, as the anti-traditional forces grow in strength. Even though these values cannot be achieved, it does not mean that they amount to mere “ideas.” These are measures…. Let people of our time talk about these things with condescension as if they were anachronistic and anti-historical; we know that this is an alibi for their defeat. Let us leave modern men to their “truths” and let us only be concerned about one thing: to keep standing amid a world of ruins.” ― Julius Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World: Politics, Religion, and Social Order in the Kali Yuga.

“We are born into this time and must bravely follow the path to the destined end. There is no other way. Our duty is to hold on to the lost position, without hope, without rescue, like that Roman soldier whose bones were found in front of a door in Pompeii, who died at his post during the eruption of Vesuvius because someone forgot to relieve him. That is greatness. That is what it means to be a thoroughbred. The honorable end is the one that can not be taken from a man.” ― Oswald Spengler, Man and Technics: A Contribution to a Philosophy of Life.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Campbell Jr. High School

This is one paragraph of the approximately 50-page introduction to Essays in Satanism.
I posted it to my old blog because I had a friend on the list who attended the same school with me!
My family moved to Florida in 1979, closing one chapter and opening another less pleasant chapter of my life. Daytona Beach itself was an interesting change, with its sleazy carnie-like atmosphere, tourist traps, biker gangs, and the drug pusher and prostitute infested boardwalk area. But overall, at this early stage, the most negative experience of Daytona Beach (and public schools in general) was attending the notorious Campbell Jr. High School. The grimy "campus" was located in the middle of a drug and crime-ridden ghetto housing project. The school was surrounded by eight foot chain link fences, capped with another three feet of barbed wire, giving it a distinct concentration camp appearance. The windows and doors of all the shoddy uniform duplex houses in this neighborhood were covered with protective iron security bars and heavy steel mesh. At the beginning of the year my mother attended "open house" with another mother – their car was stolen from the school parking lot and found several streets away on cinder blocks – completely stripped. The hall lockers had been so routinely vandalized and broken into that they just removed them altogether. You were expected to carry all of your school books and papers with you all day. The first thing I did was throw all of my books into my gym locker, which was shortly thereafter broken into and looted, so I never saw them again after the first week. Most of the windows were broken out of the classrooms. Some classrooms had no doors. During the all too common Florida flash storms, you would get literally drenched with wind and rain inside the classrooms. The "campus" was infested with fire ants, leeches, and mosquitoes. The school was about 70% black, so racially motivated hostility was a constant issue. Drugs and violence were ubiquitous. There were fistfights and assaults on an almost daily basis, between students and other students, and between students and teachers. There were at least two rapes that I recall, and robberies were routine. Fortunately, my friends and I were genetically ahead of the growth curve, physically larger than most kids in our grade, and we were trouble; we were the rowdy kids who drank, fought, and generally raised hell, so for the most part no one bothered me personally – although no one "graduated" unscathed. I remember the last day of school at Campbell; there were armed Daytona Beach Police officers at every hall corner, and police cars parked in every field adjacent to the campus because they were fully expecting some kind of "race riot."Although I did not participate in scholastic activities at all (my school record from this period scored literally straight I's - for Incomplete) it was definitely an education in human nature.

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