Tere’s decadent family
Teresa has two brothers: Jorge and José. In the island I met one of them, and Tere talked a lot about the baby of the other. Of the three siblings only one of them, in his middle or late forties, has bred: a single baby when I visited the island. According to Tere, only until her father died her brother decided to reproduce. His former reluctance to do it had been a vengeance because of the father’s abusive conduct long ago: he didn’t want to give his (now late) father any grandson.
The other brother, the one that I met, was even worse for the survival of our ethnic group. Like Tere, he has zero kids. I also met his good-looking wife, a blond and slim woman. Like many other Europeans this comparatively old couple refuses to breed.
If Europe will die it’s precisely because of people like Tere’s family. In fact, that family is a perfect paradigm to understand not only Spain’s decadence, but also Europe’s decadence in general. It goes without saying that—the truth that made Tere so mad at me—if Europeans stop having children, they will gradually dilute to the point of extinction. The Third World newcomers from different ethnic groups who are massively arriving have a very different national project. Wouldn’t it be the ultimate irony that the Moors reconquered Spain?
Europe’s decadent ethos was manifested in a dinner I shared with Tere, her non-reproductive brother, and their elderly mother in a Las Palmas restaurant. This brother has a handsome job in the bank and lives in a privileged zone of the island (unlike “La Feria” neighborhood where I lived, where, without a car, it was a pain in the ass to reach my beloved beach). Speaking freely, the banker informed me that, as a hobby, he used his time to travel throughout the world recounting his adventures in diverse countries, including exotic African countries. Since the first days in the island I learned that some of Tere’s friends did exactly the same: instead of using the money of their well-paid professions to rise families, they have absolutely zero descendants. They used their resources for international travels or for mundane pleasures avoiding all commitment with the future of our civilization.
“Nations are born Stoic and die Epicurean,” wrote Will Durant about a decadent Rome which practiced infanticide because it didn’t want to have children anymore. Europe has fallen into a nihilistic Epicureism and is moving inexorably toward its demographic dilution. This said, unlike Tere her canary acquaintances were very kind people, far kinder than the inhabitants of Mexico City that I see everyday. Unlike Tere, these Canary people didn’t gnash their teeth when listening to someone talk about Western decadence. They do what they do because that is the fashionable ethos in Europe. Likewise, and also unlike Tere, her friends and relatives and neighbors that I met weren’t far leftists. One of her neighbors even listened my badmouthing about Negro and Moor immigration into the Canary islands, and she agreed.
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On July 22, 2009 an angry Tere rushed into my bedroom. She had just seen my entry quoting Fjordman, a Norwegian blogger in the counter-jihad movement. In the living room Tere had just exclaimed something when she found, reading my blog in her laptop, my translation of a Fjordman paragraph before rushing into my room to confront me.
The above-mentioned woman with whom I’d talked about Negro immigration (not a girlfriend, just a friend) that I met in Las Palmas knew of my misfortunes with Teresa. She told me that she should respect me; that if people are politically different, the simple thing to do is to keep the distance; not crossing over the line of direct confrontation.
I iterate that Tere knew the internet addresses of my blogs and of my YouTube channel. Even remaining silent about my last video or entry she found them in order to immediately take issue with me. Her intromissive attitude was so evident that, like a scolding mom, she asked me to remove the links that connected my webpage to my blogs! She asked that more than once. She hated every link between my anti-psychiatric activism, which she liked, and my political ideas.
Obviously I didn’t remove the links. By the way, the Fjordman phrase which provoked Tere when she rushed into my bedroom is so true. Today, Amsterdam and Rotterdam resemble more Islamist enclaves than European cities and, like Tere’s own family, the native Dutch are diluting their ethny more and more…
Europe is no longer Europe. It looks more like what Fjordman calls Eurabia. If Tere reaches old age she will surely witness, and even suffer, the sad truth that Fjordman was right.