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by Tejji

sábado, 25 de octubre de 2014

A race of the devil

by Rafael Castela Santos
taken from
of Saturday, June 27,2014.
translated from the Spanish by Roberto Hope

I stumbled upon a very interesting article on the slavery (in the literal sense, not just in the political-economic sense) which the English imposed upon the Irish. If you dive into the link, you will see how the English call the Irish, “Irish Iberians” (literally) and you will find out what kind of idea they had (and to a large extent still have) of them. “Irish Iberians” which they regard as inferior, just as they consider negroes. This slavery began in the seventeenth century, when protestantism had already taken root firmly in Great Britain. Such rubbish cast upon the “Irish Iberians” can only be generated by swine of the worst kind.

What they truly hide under the racist cloak is a deep and festered hate against the Catholic faith. Religion annihilated, matter of these last 200 years, a filthy racism still remains where they consider us, Catholic Celts and Celtiberians, as inferior races, hogwash.

I do not understand the stupid admiration some of my fellow Hispanics (Lusitanian and non Lusitanian) have for these “Anglo-Teutons”, as they call themselves; maybe more tilted the Portuguese towards the Anglos and the Spaniards towards the Teutons. These races have been the races of revolution par excellence and above all others. There is where Protestantism ripened; there is where the Enlightenment was plotted (the Aufklärung; the damned Aufklärung, of Lessing, Semier and Wolff, preceded by Leibnitz) and the French Revolution, where – by the way – there was much more decanting from London to Paris than what is usually explained in history textbooks. They destroyed philosophy with their idealisms, their nominalisms and their utilitarianisms. They broke up Christendom, depriving it of Grace.

I am indebted to the British for many personal reasons, and I do not hide it nor do I want to be ungrateful. Without Chesterton, I would not be what I am as a person, and I owe him much, very much, as I owe much to Belloc and to Father Vincent McNabb. Distributism was born in England, a doctrine of economics in which, as I get advanced in years and in gray hair, I see as the most solid possibility of an economic order when the Judgment of the Nations completes the deserved purge that this Novus Ordo requires. And also, in the old Roman province of Britannia, Cardinal John Henry Newman was born, who has become one of my models in these last years. I will not be ungrateful to the British nor will I commit harakiri, as it is plenty what I have imbibed from these English Catholics and, to a lesser extent – but also relevant – from North American Catholics such as Orestes Brownson, to cite just one. Not to speak of literature, since in that field, my anglo saxon leaning is absolute.

But one cannot forget the historical facts brought about by the “anglo-teutons”. They, so pure and blonde, so tall and with eyes so blue, always against the “Irish Iberians”, for them a synonym of Catholicity. There are the Northern Erie counties invaded and subjugated by the “Anglo-Teutons”. There are still Gibraltar, the Malvinas (Falklands), the little Guyanas and the little Belizes. There, with the shameful Methuen, they left proof of their treatment, customary by the way, of a supposed ally (and I say supposed because they do not have any allies, and their sole assumption are their interests, usually with an arm in Pluto's pigsties). There, history records the attacks against La Coruña, Faro, the Canary Islands, Cartagena de Indias and Menorca. There, their idolatry for a satanist pirate as was Francis Drake, precursor of their favorite activities, which they no longer do with peg leg and hook, but keep carrying out wearing Armani suits in the City. There, their torpedoing of Christianity, the sabotage of the Portuguese Empire and the destruction of the Spanish Empire carried out by them, There, they gave proof of the cultural genocide carried out in the Philippines, or of their usurpation and destruction of Mexico. There, the epistolary correspondence between Queen Victoria and that filthy Bismarck, guru of the anti-Catholic Kulturkampf, always conspiring against Catholicity.

The list is incredibly long, but the “Anglo-Teutons” have always the same and only central theme: to destroy Catholicity.

I am more and more convinced every day, that anglo-saxons (on both sides of the Atlantic) are a race of the devil. They are, as Father Leonardo Castellani once said, the race par excellence of the Fifth Empire, that of the Antichrist, That of Satan.

What happens is that my view is neither racial nor racist; notions of which I have little or no regard as constructors of societies or motherlands. Since my world vision is Catholic, I do not believe either in that thinking of filthy races or of inferior races (which in any case, seen what we have seen, would fit the “Anglo-Teutons”; not the “Irish Iberians”). That same Catholic world vision sustains me in the deep conviction that even the most loyal servants of Her Majesty and of Her Satanic Majesty, may be redeemed. That, I hope and in that, I trust. In prophesies as that of the Holy Curé of Ars, who saw an England already without world power, but converted into an island of sanctity and wisdom, full again of monasteries and centers of learning,

That is the England I love: the Catholic England. That deeply monastic medieval England. The other one, the protestant one and all of its epiphenomena and derivatives, is detestable and is known by its deeds – and its writings. If all of us in a greater or lesser degree are guilty of the mess and the very deep global crisis affecting us today, the “Anglo-Teutons” are more than any other, and such sad honor post in Hell belongs to them.

May God wish that their conversion reduces their conceit, as stupid as is full of sin, of the sin of pride in that asinine variant of racial superiority. Their contemporary history, beyond their material successes often built on mass despoliation and assassination, is nauseatingly sulphurous. If they do not convert, their place par excellence is a certain sulphur lake mentioned in Sacred Scripture. There they will surely feel in the home of their father, the true lord of the Fifth Empire.

At the moment, and also after the Judgment of Nations, we the “Irish Iberians” have the intention of staying in this valley of tears. With our Douros, our Toros and our Guinness. With our Rosary. With our marvellous art. And looking at Christ the King as we pray to the Most Holy Virgin Mary to intercede for us ... and for them. So that they may convert, of course. And so that they abjure such drivel against the “Irish Iberians”.

And awaiting Heaven, our definitive Homeland, which appears to us somewhat more pleasant than the sulphur lake which the minions of the Fifth Empire seem so much to aspire.

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