[From “A confession”]

On the day of the attempt on Donald Trump, I went to talk to the woman to whom I referred in my article[…]
I don’t write about news like the attempt because I don’t consider it important[…]
I would like to confess that I have long since been able to fall asleep only by imagining nuclear mushroom clouds over the major capitals of the West due to a strategic war with Russia. Mixing the symbols of Martin’s novels with Tolkien, if Washington is Mordor, the capitals of the major Western countries are like various Isengards. What nobler thing could there be than to wish that these centres of ethnocidal power against the Aryan, along with Mordor, be incinerated?

A skirmish like yesterday’s means nothing from the point of view of the old man holed up in a cave far from the Wall contemplating the historical past[…]Someone might tell me that in a nuclear conflagration, the Aryan baby could thus be thrown out with the dirty water and that although it is healthy to want eight billion Untermenschen to die in the nuclear winter, perhaps the same number should die better gradually, through energy devolution, so that the surviving Aryan has the chance, through our forums, to realise that only the religion that Uncle Adolf bequeathed us saves

But that is not what emotions tell me, especially when trying to sleep or waking up in the night. In those moments only wishing that those mushroom clouds were already over the enemy cities calms me down[…]
The only thing that calms me, and I speak of that César now fully awake, clear-headed and out of bed, is that thanks to a slow apocalypse (due to peak oil) billions of obsolete versions of humans will be wiped out in the next hundred years. It reminds me of what Eduardo Velasco wrote from page 162 to the end of On Exterminationism when we read about an Aryan couple who, after the end of the world, will thirst to live to repopulate the Earth