Pagan? No. I have met some neo-Pagans. As I said, every single one of them seemed like a small child playing a game of Let’s Pretend. They aren’t serious people. I can’t take them seriously.

As for me, personally? I have never seen a god, nor even heard a definition for the term that wasn’t at odds with logic, language, and what we know of the natural world, so I do not spend much time thinking about the concept. I read Mencken, Spengler, and Revilo P. Oliver rather more than Nietzsche or the Eddas, for whatever that is worth. What does that make me? That was a rhetorical question. I don’t care about labels.

Jesusism has its positive aspects, but they are nothing that did not exist among pagan Western cultures that preexisted Jesus and the Church for millennia, long before Jesusism–a foreign, Semitic splinter-cult–was imposed upon Europe’s people by the sword. And while, perhaps, it is possible that a temple of Jupiter in an Imperial Rome that survived longer might have condemned Giordano Bruno to be burned at the stake for his speculations about the stars, and they might have threatened Galileo Galilei with the same for heliocentric astronomy, at least they are likely to have couched their condemnations in terms of these concepts being offensive to their Gods, and spared their victims, and the population, from condescending claims that they were protecting the public good from dangerous witchcraft. Then, too, in Imperial Rome it was understood that human lives were not the priesthood’s to give or take, but, rather, the State’s, which might be a small improvement. Some Roman officials were as mad as any of the mad Emperors, but some were intelligent men who could have been reasoned with, which is more than can be said of Bellarmine and Madruzzo.

For this next bit I will, necessarily, paint in broad strokes, but hope that you take my point. Jesusism, or, rather, its high priests, taken in the aggregate over the past fifteen or sixteen centuries, seem to have an arrogant, grasping affinity for the levers of power that I find offensive, and historically I do not see quite so much of this in the pagan world. Popes for centuries declared themselves the final arbiters of all power in Europe. A thousand years ago, any shaman who strode into the palace of Harold Bluetooth and declared himself king of the world would have found himself hanging by his neck from the rafters before the laughter stopped.

In any event, as I said, I have never seen a god. It’s all so much swamp gas to me, but I hope I may be forgiven for noticing that followers of a certain Jew-derived faith that has become very powerful in the modern world have spent centuries demonstrating a most disagreeable sort of… oh, what’s that word I’m looking for? It’s an unpleasant trait, one combining arrogance and audacity. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Chutzpah. That’s the word.

But, to return to first principles: what I believe in is my people, who tamed the lightning, split the atom, and put a man on the Moon. I care about my people–White people. This is my race, my extended family. What encourages my people to flourish and protects them is good. What hinders or endangers my people is bad–and I count Jesusism, with all its talk of forgiveness and going to the cross as gentle as a lamb, obeying Caesar’s orders without so much as a word of reproach for your executioners, as a hindrance. What does not affect my people is not of interest to me. I don’t care about anyone else, not even enough to hate them, because hatred would require a level of interest and emotional investment that are not present. Factored into this is that the world has finite land and resources, therefore it is a zero-sum game.

If a nest of poisonous serpents were near your home, and one of them bit your child, destroying the nest and all others you could find would be the appropriate response. Elaborate oaths of revenge against one particular serpent would not be appropriate, productive, or rational.