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On Notoriety.

Operative E.O., work by Kevin S. Operative E.O., work by Kevin S.

Operation Werewolf, as stated from the beginning, is rabid resistance. A path that leads against the grain, toward massive personal upheaval and ordeal, and ultimately, to glory. This endeavor is done through through the reassembly of our willfully annihilated former selves into a new creation of iron and blood- not content to make little adjustments here and there until we have reduced ourselves to ash in the furnace of the great Black Work of Calcination!

During this beginning process, we adopt a mindset that deals in extremes. From the naked aggression of the Operation’s symbolism, to its often brutal tenets of unmerciful transformation, the pathway through the Gates of Iron is one of fire and conquest.

During this time, and through the contract the individual makes to this Operation by wearing the black Totenwolf flag, and swearing an allegiance to his higher self, his own potential, he will meet with that resistance on many fronts.

First, and most importantly, he will meet with resistance from self. From what we in the ongoing Operation refer to as the thrall mind, that inner weakness that seeks to control and enervate us with negativity, self defeating thoughts and actions, as it attempts to channel regular patterns of laziness and surrender within our brain and being. This thrall mind must be brought under the boot of our conqueror mindset, kept in chains, utterly beaten and dominated- no longer capable of raising his head to resist our overcoming.

We have discussed this self overcoming many times, and will continue to do so, but it is another type of resistance that we will touch on now.

This second resistance will be met from without. We have adopted a combative philosophy for good reason. We have adopted a provocative image for a reason. Nothing that has been done, or engendered by this relentless Operation has been by mistake, or without forethought.

This combativeness is integral to the first part of the Operation, because it is through resistance that kings are made.

Our disdain for comfort must permeate our being on all levels, and we must never fear confrontation, but embrace it as a part of a vital life lived with blood hot in our veins! One cannot put on the dread banner and turn his face away from confrontation or he is forever a slave, unworthy to wear the symbols of power and fury that we see as holy.

We will state this clearly: by an association with the Wolf-Cult as it exists today in its true form, that form which we call Operation Werewolf, worldwide, you embrace notoriety. Whether you will it or no, you have chosen to associate with a growing cultus that lives and breathes, that stains altars red with blood at every corner of the earth, awakening a fire that continues to grow and call to others.

If you are not prepared to see your reputation among the mob ripped to pieces, and wish to live a comfortable life free from challenge and pressure, free from accountability and harsh judgements, free from the threat of violence by those who oppose our ideals of strength and healthiness- stay in the village. Remain within the confines of Empire, both physically and spiritually, for it is the Wolf who grows up in the woods outside the walls!

No arguments! No explanations! No remorse or fear! Take accountability for your actions and choices and know that all associations and choices have repercussion. Stop pretending to be a victim when Empire decrees your flag outlawed, your cause unjust- this is a cult of the Father of Wolves, the Unknown Rider, and his people have always been outlaws, existing on the edges of accepted society, gnawing at the roots of what is already falling.

We exist by ourselves, for ourselves- but this does not mean that those who have accepted the visions of the dream-weavers, the technomancers and storytellers of Empire will not hate you. They will hate you, and they will do their best to make others hate you as well. Some doors will be closed to you forever, while others will open to strange new vistas and awful frontiers. You will meet wild men and outlaws, and swear oaths beneath our brother, the moon, and be a part of creating a new myth in which your part is as yet undetermined.

Take up the banner of strength, but do not be fooled into believing it can be held without challenge.

“Run from what is comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live.

Destroy your reputation. Become notorious.”

92!

-PW

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Hate

Written for Operation Werewolf by Joshua Buckley

The word “hate” gets thrown around a lot these days. If you dare to criticize the liberal-globalist-egalitarian world order, or if you voted for the guy with the orange hair and the small hands, than you are almost certainly a “hater.” You might even be a hater if you didn’t download the new Beyoncé album, or if you failed to binge watch the latest season of Orange is the New Black. Like the word “fuck,” the word “hate” is being divested of all meaning through overuse. But real hate—what I will call capital-H Hate—is not actually that easy to come by, at least not in the comfy, industrialized West (things might be different in some steamy, genocidal hot-house like Rwanda or the Congo). Capital-H Hate doesn’t fat-shame fat girls or refuse to bake cakes for gay weddings, and it has little or nothing to do with anyone’s “feels.” Capital-H Hate is the hatred that chops off your arms and legs before disemboweling you, rapes your woman while you watch, and sells your children into slavery. Liberals would do well to remember this the next time they declare that every Caspar Milquetoast-White guy who listens to AM talk-radio is a “hatemonger.”

As Jack Donovan has pointed out, real hatred involves a lot of emotional investment. To hate someone with a whole heart, you have to actually care about them. Most of us who have ever experienced the nasty break-up of a romantic relationship can probably attest to how closely intertwined love and hatred can be, and how quickly the one can morph into the other. Hatred also implies a sort of frustrated idealism. There is no reason to hate someone just for being who they are, unless you believe that they could somehow be different. You can save yourself a tremendous amount of misery by not falling into this kind of thinking. If you accept people as they are, and not as you imagine that they could be, then you can avoid the emotional expenditure involved in hating them, or the even greater emotional investment involved in trying to change them (which is the mistake humanitarian do-gooders make). The better course of action is to ignore them altogether, and to focus instead on keeping your own house in order. This doesn’t mean failing to notice people who constitute a legitimate threat, or who actively present themselves as enemies. But even in these circumstances, it’s best not to get too emotionally involved by letting yourself be consumed with capital-H Hate. As anyone who has participated in combat sports can tell you, the worst thing you can do in a fight is to lose your temper and start thrashing around like a madman. The cold, calculating killer with superior technique and a higher fight IQ is far more likely to dispatch an enemy successfully than the emotionally-overloaded fighter who has lost all semblance of control.

Real, raw, capital-H Hate is usually reserved for individuals. Very often they will be people who we trusted not to betray us, but who stabbed us in the back nonetheless (again, think of how easy it is to capital-H Hate an ex-lover). The idea that this kind of hatred could be extended to whole groups of individuals is beyond most people’s capacities. To give an example, I have known men who were self-described racists or who claimed to hate homosexuals, but who never personally mistreated a Black guy or a gay person in their entire life. In many instances, they could even show kindness or admiration towards members of these groups as individuals. This is a pretty clear indication that their supposed hatred was not of the capital-H variety, but something more like generalized disapproval. We might even call this lower-case-h hate, and it’s likely that this lower-case-h hate is what the chattering classes have in mind when they tar everyone with whom they disagree with the hate-brush. But like capital-H Hate, lower-case-h hate is often more trouble than it’s worth, especially when it’s directed at people who just are what they are. You might take tactical measures to avoid coming into contact with a snake, and you might chop the snake’s head off if it gets too close. But no right-minded person would profess to hate the entire class of snakes because it’s in the nature of a snake to bite.

Nevertheless, lower-case-h hate has its uses. Here’s a partial laundry list of some of the people I reserve my own most cherished (lower-case-h) hatreds for:

I hate anyone who claims that people are inherently noble just because they’ve been “oppressed,” or came out on the losing side of history. Conversely, I hate anyone who tells me that someone is automatically wicked simply by virtue of the fact that they are successful. I hate people who want me to feel guilty about the sins of my ancestors, but tell me that it’s ridiculous to feel pride in their accomplishments. I hate people who tell me its just as important to care about someone else’s children, in some part of the world I’ve never been to, than it is to care about my own. I hate anyone who tells me that I’m not “open minded” because I don’t agree with everything they say. I hate people who portray themselves as “rebels” and “free thinkers” when their opinions are exactly the same as those of the ruling class. I hate people who talk about “tolerance” but are completely intolerant themselves, or who never shut up about “love” when they’re just as hateful as the people they purport to criticize. I hate people who speak in empty platitudes and refuse to rationally defend their arguments, but condemn anyone they don’t agree with for being “ignorant.” I hate people who think that their own subjective opinions are synonymous with “progress.” I hate people who imagine that their sexual fetishes are going to change the world. I hate people who claim to be “anti-Establishment,” but who squeal to the media and the cops at the first sign of opposition. I hate these people because they are liars.

I hate guys who obsessively follow sportsball, and who swoon over other male athletes the same way pre-pubescent girls swoon over Justin Bieber. I hate adult men who spend all of their time playing videogames or watching movies based on comic books. I hate people who think Star Trek is profound. I hate anyone who’s ever been on a Disney cruise. I hate people that live in giant McMansions furnished with cheap Chinese crap, but who don’t own any books, music, or art. I hate people who only eat food out of a box. I hate people who pepper their speech with too many neologisms or, worse, lingo derived from texting. I hate people who watch too much TV (the average American asshole watches over five hours of television a day). I hate people who believe that the shit they see on TV is real. I hate people who think that “all things are considered” on NPR. I hate people who think that they’re smart just because they went to college. I hate people who tell me I’m not entitled to my opinion if I “didn’t vote” (and I didn’t). I hate anyone who likes music with auto-tuned vocals. I hate anyone who even mentions the play Hamilton. I hate people who travel abroad, then eat at American chain restaurants. I hate people who vape (unless they’re really trying to quit smoking). I hate these people because they are mediocrities.

I hate people that try to shame me for not “accepting” their bad behaviors and poor choices. I hate people who try to make a virtue out of their handicaps, instead of working to overcome them. I hate people who think Jesus loves them “just the way they are.” I hate people who are proud of the fact that they never read books. I hate adult men who think it’s okay to live with their parents. I hate people who don’t train. I hate people who aren’t conscious about the food and other substances that they put into their bodies. I hate people who use lack of money as an excuse for never doing anything interesting. I hate anyone who thinks “bullying” is a major social epidemic. I hate people who think that others are successful just because they’re “lucky.” I hate people who refuse to take their own side, and always try to understand the “perspective” of those who hate them. I hate people who think that the way to overcome their personality defects is by taking pharmaceuticals. I hate men that abandon their own kids. I hate these people because they are weak.

What all of these lower-case-h “hates” have in common is that none of the behaviors or attitudes associated with them are an essential part of anyone’s nature. Unlike someone’s race or sexual preference, they are all things that can be changed. But as I said above, it’s an utter waste to spend your life trying to fix other people: that’s what Christians and liberals do. The real reason to keep track of your lower-case-h hatreds is to better focus on the kind of person that you are endeavoring to become, as well as the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with. In this regard, these lower-case-h hatreds (and your own list will undoubtedly differ from mine) form the basis for another virtue that is also completely anathema to modern people: discrimination.

As for capital-H Hate, it’s a tricky business. No good comes from being consumed with it, and it can make you fight sloppy. But like all things in nature, it undoubtedly has its place. Perhaps you should keep a tiny bit of it secreted away in some dark, hidden corner of your heart. Then, in the hour of need, when a True Enemy rises up against you, it might give you that last little push that makes the difference between ultimate defeat and crushing, blood-splattered victory. In the meantime, bide your time, and try to be polite. Because I also hate rude people.

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Goals

Written for Operation Werewolf by Joshua Buckley

“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, during the eruption of Vesuvius, died at his post because they forgot to relieve him. That is greatness. That is what it means to be a thoroughbred.”

—Oswald Spengler, Man and Technics

A few weeks ago, I compressed the vertebrae in my neck and pinched a nerve. It’s not the first time I’ve done this. The last time, I fought too hard to get out of a choke in jiu-jitsu class and turned my head further than it was designed to go. This time, I’m not even sure what happened—it just crept up on me, as injuries often do. The upside is that—despite some tingling in my fingers and elbow—there’s not a lot of pain. The downside is that I’ve lost a tremendous amount of strength in my right tricep and chest. I expect that this will eventually resolve itself as the nerve works its way free (although in a small percentage of cases it apparently doesn’t), and I’ve been seeing my chiropractor in the hopes that he can help. But obviously, whatever progress I was making in the gym has ground to a screeching halt. I’m still lifting—this hasn’t affected my ability to do squats, or most bodyweight exercises—but it’s frustrating. Like most of us, I have a specific set of goals that I’m working to achieve, and this feels like a significant setback.

Of course, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t that big a deal. I’ve injured myself many times before, and I’m sure I’ll re-injure myself many times in the future. As one of my old jiu-jitsu teachers liked to say: “If you don’t train injured, you’ll never train.” But as I spend a lot of time mulling over how training relates to other aspects of life, this latest injury has forced me to think about how the goals that we set for ourselves can also trip us up, at least when everything doesn’t go according to plan. And

the truth—the cold, hard truth—is that ultimately, all of our goals will end in frustration. Age will rob us of our physical abilities, our mental acuity, our friends, and our family. Not only will we die, but we will very likely be forgotten. One day, the sun will burn out and the universe itself will simply pull apart, leaving nothing but cold, dead stars in its wake. This may sound extreme (I started off talking about a pinched nerve, after all), but that’s where all of our goals will get us, and there’s not a whole lot that we can do to change it.

So why should we care about anything? Why should we keep scratching and clawing to leave some mark on this doomed world, and to try to become something more than the eating-sleeping-consuming animals that we are? Why have goals in the first place?

For me at least, part of the answer is that we are here now, and there is very likely a reason that we are here, even if we don’t know exactly what it is. (For Heidegger, the most fundamental question is always: “Why is there something, rather than nothing?”) In fact, we very likely cannot know the answer to questions about the ultimate meaning of things. What we do know is the circumstances of our own particular existence, and with that knowledge at hand, we can begin to formulate ideas about what it is that we must do. Consider Aristotle’s idea that our own essence is something that we carry within us, but which must be worked out deliberately. As Alisdair MacIntyre explains it, what Aristotle is basically saying is that man is a functional concept, like a watch or a sword. A “good watch” is a watch that tells time correctly and a “good sword” is one that cuts quickly and cleanly. By the same token, a good man is a man who has actualized (or who is working to actualize) the potentials he was born with as a man. Of course, these potentials won’t be the same for everyone—Aristotle was no egalitarian. But all of us can benefit from making it our life’s work to cultivate our excellences.

In Norse mythology, and in paganism generally, the gods are also embroiled in the struggle to actualize their own highest potentials—which of course surpass anything we might be able to imagine. In this way, they serve as both allies and exemplars for humankind. Unlike the god of monotheism, the pagan gods are neither omniscient nor all-powerful. Like Odin, who sacrifices “himself to himself” in order to surpass himself, the gods must fight for wisdom and strength. On a mythic level, the ongoing battle against the thurses represents this as a war between the forces of consciousness and order and the forces of unconsciousness and dissolution. But there is another way that the gods of paganism are unlike the god of Christianity. They are mortal. As recounted in the Poetic Edda, most of the gods will die during the battle of Ragnarök, where they will fall fighting terrible enemies like the wolf Fenrir and the serpent Jörmungandr. Just like their human counterparts, all of their projects of self-realization and self-overcoming will end in defeat. Although some scholars have suggested that the Ragnarök story may have been influenced by Christian eschatology, I think a stronger case can be made that the tragic conclusion of the Edda is an essential part of its structure.

But how tragic is it, really? And can we really count the gods’ final act in the cosmic battle of Ragnarök as a failure?

The reason that the gods will fall in defeat is that there is ultimately a power even more overwhelming than the powers that they themselves possess: fate. We need not overcomplicate things by imagining this as something akin to predestination. In the broadest possible sense, acknowledging our own fate just means accepting the fact that we will die (I have discussed some of the implications of confronting our own death in an earlier essay). The fact that the gods will also die is significant not because it reduces all of their other actions to futility, but because it allows them to actualize what might be their highest potential of all: heroism. The Christian god is incapable of heroism because he is immortal, and therefore immune to risk. There is nothing heroic about fighting when you know that you cannot lose. On the contrary, fighting valiantly in spite of the fact that you are doomed to defeat is the very essence of heroism. This is not unlike what Nietzsche has in mind when he describes the Eternal Return. The rather unsettling notion that history repeats itself in a never-ending loop renders all of the Superman’s efforts at self-overcoming pointless. Yet for Nietzsche, the idea that the Superman does not give up in spite of this pointlessness is the ultimate affirmation of his heroic nature. Like the gods of paganism, the Nietzschean Superman requires that his efforts to actualize himself must end in perpetual frustration. Paradoxically, this is what enables him to reach his greatest potential, and to seize a higher victory from the jaws of every defeat.

Most of us will never be heroes in the way that Odysseus, or Achilles, or Sigurd are heroes—although some of us might get the chance. As the world around us continues to unravel, it seems more and more likely that heroes of this type will be needed. But regardless of what will happen in the future (and predictions that purport to tell us are worse than useless), it is our task to cultivate a heroic ethos now, even if the only war we ever fight is the war against our own lower selves. This means accepting the tragic dimension of life, and persevering with grim determination in the face of all adversity. It means that the Operation will not stop for pinched nerves or pulled muscles, broken ribs or busted teeth. Nor will it stop for any of the much more serious challenges that life will inevitably place in our paths. All of the roadblocks that thwart our individual goals only throw the larger goal into sharper relief, and make that goal possible. We will become who we are. And we will be heroes.

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The Mind of the Kshatriya Part 2.

Photo taken at Cheyenne Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

In the first article of this SERIES, Craig Williams discussed the concept of the importance of meditation on the mental state of the individual, and why it is crucial to anyone living a strong lifestyle.

The obvious counterpart to a healthy meditation practice is a healthy physical practice, but how are the two connected and how we can we make them more consonant in our lives, turning the mental and physical into a single ringing note of harmonized power?

The answer is that, like most things, the two are more connected than we might at first imagine.

Everyone who has ever exercised is probably aware of the “good feeling” it produces afterward, sort of an afterglow that is the effect of endorphins and other chemicals that the brain releases during cardiovascular exercise, but what is the lasting effect of exercise on our mental state?

Incredibly, studies show that engaging in 90-120 minutes of moderate to intense cardio work a week actually increases the size of the hippocampus in the brain- this is the part of our brain that is responsible for verbal memory and our ability to learn new things- these same studies show that slower resistance training, like weightlifting at a low level of intensity, does not produce these same results.

Further, cardio reduces something called insulin resistance, which allows us to then burn fat and build muscle more effectively. It reduces inflammation, deploys chemicals that combat fear, stress and anxiety, as well as stimulating the release of “growth factors,” which in turn positively affect the health of existing brain cells, the growth of new blood vessels in the brain, and the survival of new brain cells.

By raising our heart rates, we are pumping oxygen rich blood through our veins, which not only detoxifies the body, but allows a higher quality fuel to power the brain itself.

A study at Purdue University showed that of those tested who increased their fitness levels by 17%, the same individuals saw a 12 to 68% improvement in their ability to process information and make decisions, something that became known as “executive control,” showing that higher levels of physical fitness lead to an improvement in high level cognition.

Further studies demonstrated that the more complex a problem or idea was, the more of a beneficial effect cardio exercise had on it.

What all of this means, for us, is that by following a dedicated regimen of conditioning work, we will be achieving:

-Increased ability to learn

-Improved ability to remember and access information at a faster rate

-Improvement in fast and effective decision making

-Decrease in stress levels, anxiety, and other negative chemical effects

-An increase in the effectiveness with which our body burns fat and builds muscle

All of these things combine into making the mind a well oiled machine, all parts moving with speed and precision. A further benefit is that a high level physical conditioning will also allow the individual to become better at their chosen fields faster than those who do not engage in this work, thereby allowing them to surpass others who have been doing the same thing longer. The application of this idea in the area of physical combatives of any kind is easy to see- when two men of equal technique are matched, it will not only be the one who possesses the clearer mind, but the greater conditioning, that will achieve victory. Here we can understand that both of those things can be attained through mediation and exercise.

The practice of intense exercise quiets the mind, burning off excess nervous energies and releasing the chemicals conducive to a sound mental environment in which to meditate, reflect, plan, and learn new information and skill-sets.

As individuals who are engaged in a lifelong endeavor to make our bodies a temple housing the smokeless fire of our mind and will, we must utilize every tool to whet the edge of the blade of our practice.

To become true Kshatriyas, we must condition!

92.
-P.W.

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Dedication

Dedication.

Wake up. Thinking about dreaming about it.

Go through the morning motions, with that one thing running through your mind, just behind the eyes in the bathroom mirror.

The food you eat is fuel, gasoline in the motor to give you the energy that will take you further along the track towards mastery.

The time you have to spend working, hustling, that’s all just a simple means to an end- like a wrench that undoes the bolt otherwise holding you back from your passion.

Don’t sweat it. Just do whatever it is you have to do to make your thing happen.

Lunch break, “down time,” whenever other people are smoking cigarettes, talking about the latest episode of some T.V. show, shooting the shit- whatever it is the human crowd is doing these days: you don’t know.

You’re a machine, not a man. Hellbent in a single direction, all moving parts oiled and informed toward one major function. You dedicate those little moments to your craft.

Sketch, read, watch tutorial videos, use those precious little scraps to add to your fire, turning into a blaze.

Once these mundane obligations are discharged, your time in between is spent meditating on the work to come. Once engaged in it, you are focused and fierce, a burning love for each second spent with the object of your worship. Here, you are truly in the present, all past and future concepts forgotten, wrapped up in the ecstasy of self-creation. Like a lover’s embrace, time is made to stand still and only the action remains.

You make of it a monolith- the central pillar of your world, the axis mundi, that idol around which your personal religious cult is centered. You sacrifice to it, with time, blood, sweat and all those other things you could have done.

Following this, you reflect on your practice. Its strengths and weaknesses.

What you came away with, and in what realms the focus needs to tighten.

A journal is kept of this progress and insight, each word a prayer and rededication to this thing that has become your god, to refer back to in moments of insight and emptiness. Drawings and mental cues, tools of remembrance and sigils that inspire the mind to quickness and the hands to action- all saved here, like loaded dice in the game called life.

Thoughts are then put to rest, as the body and brain recover for the next Herculean effort. The wise know that recovery is as crucial to success as the action itself, and they remain in a perpetual state of inspired transition from rest to wakefulness, action to reflection- Learn, Apply, Improve, Repeat. Eternal.

92.

-P.W.