Just today I discovered the videos of Steven Franssen about Daniel Mackler. Those who have been following what in this blog I say of Mackler, should not miss Franssen’s article here.

Franssen corroborates what I already knew: as a good New York Jew, Daniel Mackler (pic left) does not deliver his anti-natalist message to those populations with fewer resources that mistreat their children. He takes his message to what another New Yorker, Lloyd deMause, calls the “helping mode” of childrearing! That is to say, Mackler delivers his anti-natalist message to those who need it the least, which makes his (((motivations))) suspicious.

The Jewish Problem (Jewish authors):

Larry Auster’s unpublished chapter

Excerpts of Esau’s Tears

The Jewish Problem (non-Jewish authors):

Definition of anti-Semitism

The Culture of Critique’s Preface

Below this entry,​ the texts date from 2012 back​ to 2005.



I enjoy most things you have to say and I am forever grateful that I was sent to Alice Miller after watching your YouTube videos. I do however find most of your great work to [replicate] precisely that—Alice Miller’s. And those parts where you disagree you seem to be making broad over-generalizations and sticky conclusions.

The two reviews I have read on here also don’t give any substance to the books of which you reviewed. I think Cesar has a point. You seem to use this discussion to attack Miller, and not the points made in the book. You seem to be making a review on her integrity.

I also am unsure how you determine that you are completely enlightened. How can you know you are not making the same “hubris” assumption as Miller? Can anyone be fully enlightened? How can one determine when they are fully enlightened? And if you aren’t enlightened, then by your own words aren’t you abusing your readers? And did you abuse your past patients before your enlightenment?

As for the fact that Alice Miller has disclosed her whole life makes her easy to attack from someone that hasn’t… Also your attacks on procreation and whether or not parents can have children is rather mute, considering you don’t plan to have any and your stance on homosexuality.

Source: Amazon book reviews

Daniel Mackler (photo) is a pseudo-follower of Alice Miller. The very second post in my blogging career was precisely a piece debunking Mackler. While I have told me many times that it looks a bit silly to continue to debunk this guy, a book-review—what he said about Solzhenitsyn’s magnum opus—within a cornucopia of extremely frivolous book-reviews in Amazon by Mackler has moved me, again, to write about this man.

Even a superficial perusal of Mackler’s Amazon book reviews reveals how incredibly silly is the universe he inhabits. There are lots of reviews of Alcoholics Anonymous and in the comments Mackler confesses he spent years in AA therapy. Does this mean that he, who among his acolytes fancies himself as the Enlightened One, had substance abuse problems earlier in his life?

Mackler’s reviews of about two-hundred silly pamphlets and silly films reminds me the Stalinist apologist, Gorky, who in his younger years was an avid reader of the trash literature of his time. But Mackler’s review of Childhood’s End is absolutely ridiculous: he reviewed Arthur Clarke’s sci-fi masterpiece as if Clarke was writing non-fiction! Similarly, in one of his repetitive reviews of Miller’s books, Mackler said:

And then there is her intense anti-religiosity, and refusal to believe in God or support any form of therapy…

Apparently, according to Mackler we who don’t believe in the existence of real therapy or in a personal God, including Miller, are not yet as “enlightened” as he is. It’s worth saying that in the commenters section of Mackler’s review a commenter said that in that veiled review Mackler was really writing about him.

In his review of The Lord of the Rings, Mackler wrote:

I sometimes, felt, though, that he was metaphorically speaking about modern human races—black, white, Asian, etc.—when he spoke of the different “races” of Middle Earth, and that made me uncomfortable, because I didn’t feel the message was that enlightened.

Like millions upon millions of brainwashed liberals who subscribe a flawed post-Second World War narrative of history, Mackler cannot grasp the fact that defending the white race from extinction, one of the subliminal messages of J.R.R. Tolkien’s monumental novel (which incidentally I finished last week), is the most important task of our time. I have an entire blog on the subject and cannot explain here the details of this enormous task, akin to take the One Ring to Mount Doom for destruction.

But what irritated me to the point of deciding to write this entry was Mackler’s extremely disdainful views on poor Vincent Van Gogh, about whom I had already read three books, including the one that Mackler horribly reviewed:

This review is from “Dear Theo: The Autobiography of Vincent Van Gogh” (Paperback)

Here’s your unadulterated chance to see just how screwed up van gogh was. Letter after letter after letter sitting on the pity pot writing to his younger brother whining for money, crying for assistance, guilting his brother into supporting his art… his art habit… his art addiction. Ya know, after reading this book my perspective on van gogh changed. He struck me as an ultra-martyr (in the icky sense of the word), so big into self-pity. Now, having since read a little more of his history—screwy parents, etc, I have some more compassion for the guy and for why he was so screwed up, but these letters are honestly nothing short of tedious. One after the other, whining for money, then waxing eloquent about his art, which actually struck me often as quite manipulative—like he was justifying his existence and his productivity to theo.

Mackler’s charges against Van Gogh are baseless of course, as another Amazon commenter of his review readily pointed out. But the biggest shock was Mackler’s views about the Russian Revolution (actually, the Russian Holocaust), Lenin, and “the ideals of true [sic] socialism.” Like the Van Gogh case, at least Mackler acknowledges in his review of One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich that he is a “freeman” and Solzhenitsyn was a “slave” of the Soviet Regime. However, in his review of The Gulag Archipelago Mackler said:

Solzhenitsyn throws out the baby (The Russian Revolution, Lenin, and the ideals of true socialism) with the bathwater (Stalinism and reaction to the Revolution). He builds a long, tangential, and overall stilted case for lumping them all in together and pasting on top the label of evil—Evil Communism. If he’d only stuck with writing about his own experiences and those of his fellows, and not been so heavy-handed with the historical background information, this book would have been a knockout. Funnily enough, I think a modern editor could easily tease out this wheat (60% of the book) from the chaff (40%).

This reminds me another therapist (my chapter in Spanish here): one who agreed with my iniciative to write the story of how my parents abused me as a minor but vehemently asked me to stop my writing when I added a second chapter to my testimonial: a chapter exposing the obscene alliance of his colleagues with abusive parents!

Besides being a leftist who supports “the ideals of true socialism,” whatever that means, Daniel Mackler is ethnically Jewish. As Kevin MacDonald has demonstrated in his study of Judaism as a group evolutionary strategy, the horrific consequences of Bolshevism for millions of non-Jewish Soviet citizens (like Solzhenitsyn) do not seem to have been an issue for Jewish leftists. This pattern continues into the present with people like Mackler, who believes that exposing the crimes of communism is throwing out the baby (“true socialism”) with the bathwater. One of MacDonald’s chapters in The Culture of Critique is a must read to understand how common this moral blindspot among extreme liberal Jews, like Daniel Mackler, is undermining our civilization.

Perhaps the best way to respond to Mackler’s dismissive paragraph of the Archipelago is simply to quote some excerpts of the very first chapters to give the reader a bit of the flavor of what Solzhenitsyn’s work is all about. But first let me quote two non-frivolous readers of what many consider the most important non-fiction book of the 20th century:

“To live now and not to know this work is to be a kind of historical fool” —W.L. Webb

“When do you plan to campaign for a museum honoring the memory of the tens of millions of victims of Soviet terror? Why aren’t you outraged by the fact that not one has been built?” —Alex Kurtagic

Ok, here we go!

The astute way to present the Jewish Problem (JP) to a misinformed public—and yes: I include Mackler’s advice to the Aryan people not to reproduce as part of the JP—, is not to deny the Holocaust of Jews in 1942-1945, but to show the masses that they have been ill served by the mainstream media and Hollywood. So many movies depicting the Holocaust and zero about the Gulag can only mean that Hollywood’s masters have kept their gentile sheep in the dark. (As shown in my critique of Alice Miller, Nazism was largely a reaction to the Red Terror, which nationalist Germans perceived as Jewish Terror when the world was a little saner than today.)

The Gulag, as a subject, is so huge that it shocks me that despite the Cold War even the well educated Anglo-Saxons I have spoken to don’t know the meaning of Solzhenitsyn’s main metaphor in the term Gulag Archipelago (see map below). Here I’ll drop only one fact. In what some people call the “Russian Holocaust,” the Bolsheviks, overrepresented by Jews, killed more civilians than what the Nazis did in their death camps.

Since the overwhelming majority of Westerners ignore these facts it could be said without hyperbole that they are profoundly sleeping in the Matrix of political correctness (PC) and disinformation.

But was the Red Terror really Jewish Terror as the Nazis believed (and acted accordingly)? Thanks to MacDonald’s lead, Solzhenitsyn’s Two Hundred Years Together, a two-volume work on the history of Russian-Jewish relations, is being translated, step by step, in The Occidental Observer blogsite. The publishing houses in the US and the UK, including the universities presses, are such PC cowards that Solzhenitsyn’s last major work, published since 2001-2002 in Russian, had not been translated to English! However, before reading it I would strongly recommend the abridged version of Solzhenitsyn’s most important book (the longer version of The Gulag Archipelago, published in 1973 is either for scholars or Russians). If read in the context of MacDonald’s work, the abridged Archipelago could have the effect of taking the redpill.

When I was much younger the Soviet dissidents had to smuggle copies of Solzhenitsyn’s work into the Soviet Union. Today, totalitarianism has been inverted and it is us who are smuggling unauthorized translations of Solzhenitsyn’s last major work from Russia into the United States due to our PC deference to the philo-Semitic Zeitgeist.

The Gulag Archipelago (The Harvill Press, 1999). Abridged by Edward Ericson

Foreword to the Abridgement (excerpt)

If it were possible for any nation to fathom another people’s bitter experience through a book, how much easier its future fate would become and how many calamities and mistakes it could avoid. But it is very difficult. There always is this fallacious belief: “It would not be the same here; here such things are impossible.”

Alas, all the evil of the twentieth century is possible everywhere on earth.

Yet I have not given up all hope that human beings and nations may be able, in spite of all, to learn from the experience of other people without having to live through it personally. Therefore, I gratefully accepted Professor Ericson’s suggestion to create a one-volume abridgement of my three-volume work, The Gulag Archipelago.

Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn

Introduction (no ellipsis added between excerpts)

For a few decades the word Holocaust has served us well as a shorthand term for modern man’s inhumanity to man. In recent years a second such shorthand term has entered our working vocabulary: Gulag. This term comes to us not from a host of witness but from one lone man: Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, whose very name has become a household word around the world.

Were The Gulag Archipelago to be even more widely read than it has been, it would, I believe, make an indelible impression on the modern mind and have a salutary effect on the whole world. Here we have the greatest horror story of human history—in quantitative terms, at least (the comparable toll in China having not yet been calculated)—and, although it happened during our lifetime, most of us do not even know about it.

This work was written especially for future generations of Russians. It is these readers in particular who need to know, in as much detail as possible, the truth of their history. This abridged text is designed for the general reader, not for the scholar.

At Solzhenitsyn’s own suggestion, I have eliminated much of his personal story, though parts of it I treasure too much to drop.

Needless to say, I take responsibility for any errors of omission or commission. I hope only that any mistakes which I have made do not interfere with the transmission of Solzhenitsyn’s words to an audience which I believe desperately needs to hear them.

Edward Ericson

Author’s Note (no ellipsis added between excerpts)

And the Kolyma was the greatest and most famous island, the pole of ferocity of that amazing country of Gulag which, though scattered in an Archipelago geographically, was, in the psychological sense, fused into a continent—an almost invisible, almost imperceptible country inhabited by the zek people.

And this Archipelago crisscrossed and patterned that other country within which it was located, like a gigantic patchwork, cutting into its cities, hovering over its streets. Yet there were many who did not even guess at its presence and many, many others who had heard something vague. And only those who had been there knew the whole truth.

In this book there are no fictitious persons, nor fictitious events. People and places are named with their own names. If they are identified by initials instead of names, it is for personal considerations. If they are not named at all, it is only because human memory has failed to preserve their names. But it all took place just as it is here described.

This book could never have been created by one person alone. In addition to what I myself was able to take away from the Archipelago—on the skin of my back, and with my eyes and ears—material for this book was given me in reports, memoirs, and letters by 227 witness, whose names were to have been listed here.

What I here express to them is not personal gratitude, because this is our common, collective monument to all those who were tortured and murdered.

Chapter 1: “Arrest” (no ellipsis added between excerpts)

How do people get to this clandestine Archipelago? At ticket windows or at travel bureaus for Soviet or foreign tourists the employees would be astounded if you were to ask for a ticket to go there. They know nothing and they’ve never heard of the Archipelago as a whole or of any one of its innumerable islands.

Arrest! Need it be said that it is a breaking point in your life, a bolt of lightning which has scored a direct hit on you? That it is an unassimilable spiritual earthquake not every person can cope with, as a result of which people often slip into insanity?

The Universe has as many different centers as there are living beings in it. Each of us is a center of the Universe, and that Universe is shattered when they hiss at you: “You are under arrest.” The gate behind us, the gate to our past life, is slammed shut once and for all.

It is an alien, brutal, and crushing force totally dominating the apartment for hours. And nothing is sacred in a search! During the arrest of the locomotive engineer Inoshin, a tiny coffin stood in his room containing the body of his newly dead child. The “jurists” dumped the child’s body out of the coffin and searched it. They shake sick people out of their sickbeds, and they unwind bandages to search beneath them.

For those left behind after the arrest there is the long tail end of a wrecked and devastated life. And the attempts to go and deliver food parcels. And this means once and for all: “No right to correspondence”—and that almost certain means: “Has been shot.”

They take you from a military hospital with a temperature of 102, as they did with Ans Bernshtein, and the doctor will not raise a peep about your arrest—just let him try! They’ll take you right off the operating table—as they took N.M. Vorobyev, a school inspector, in 1936, in the middle of an operation for stomach ulcer—and drag you off to a cell, as they did him, half-alive and all bloody.

And even in the fever of epidemic arrests, when people leaving for work said farewell to their families every day, because they could not be certain they would return at night, even then almost no one tried to run away and only in rare cases did people commit suicide. And that was exactly what was required. A submissive sheep is a find for a wolf.

Universal innocence also gave rise to the universal failure to act. Vanya Levitsky: “Every honest man is sure to go to prison. Right now my papa is serving time, and when I grow up they’ll put me in too.” (They put him in when he was twenty-three years old.) The majority sit quietly and dare to hope. Since you aren’t guilty, then how can they arrest you? It’s a mistake! They are already dragging you along by the collar, and you still keep on exclaiming to yourself: “It’s a mistake. They’ll set things straight and let me out!” Others are being arrested en masse, and that’s a bothersome fact, but in those other cases there is always some dark area: “Maybe he was guilty…?” But as for you, you are obviously innocent! You still believe that the Organs are humanly logical institutions: they will set things straight and let you out.

Once a person was arrested he was never released. Some still have hopes of a favorable outcome to their case and are afraid to ruin their chances by an outcry. (For, after all, we get no news from that other world, and we do not realize that from the very moment of arrest our fate has almost certainly been decided in the worst possible sense and that we cannot make it any worse.)

I myself lugged a fifth suitcase with no great joy since it contained my diaries and literary works, which were being used as evidence against me. My cellmates—tankmen in soft black helmets—hid nothing. They were three honest, openhearted soldiers—people of a kind I had become attached to during the war years because I myself was more complex and worse. All three had been officers.

“Out for toilet call! Hands behind your backs!”

I was bursting with indignation that some ignoramus of a master sergeant dared to give orders to us officers: “Hands behind your backs!” But the tank officers put their hands behind them and I followed suit.

Back of the barn was a small square area in which the snow had been all trampled down but had not yet melted. It was soiled all over with human feces, so densely scattered over the whole square that it was difficult to find a spot to place one’s two feet and squat. However, we spread ourselves about and the five of us did squat down. Two machine gunners grimly pointed their machine pistols at us as we squatted, and before a minute had passed the master sergeant brusquely urged us on:

“Come on, hurry it up! With us they do it quickly!”

Chapter 2: “The History of Our Sewage Disposal System” (no ellipsis added between excerpts)

Although I have no statistics at hand, I am not afraid of erring when I say that the wave of 1937 and 1938 was neither the only one not even the main one, but only one, perhaps, of the three biggest waves which strained the murky, stinking pipes of our prison sewers to bursting.

Before it came the wave of 1929 and 1930, the size of a good River Ob, which drove a mere fifteen million peasants, maybe even more, out into the taiga and the tundra. But peasants are a silent people, without a literary voice, nor do they write complaints or memoirs. This wave poured forth, sank down into the permafrost, and even our most active minds recall hardly a thing about it. It is as if it had not even scarred the Russian conscience. And yet Stalin (and you and me as well) committed no crime more heinous than this. And after it there was the wave of 1944 to 1946. But in this wave, too, the people were of the simpler kind, and they wrote no memoirs.

But the wave of 1937 swept up and carried off to the Archipelago people of position, people with a Party past, yes, educated people, around whom were many who had been wounded and remained in the cities… and what a lot of them had pen in hand!

It is well known that any organ withers away if it is not used. Therefore, if we know that the Soviet security organs, or Organs (and they christened themselves with this vile word), praised and exalted above all living things, have not died off even to the extent of one single tentacle, but, instead have grown new ones and strengthened their muscles—it is easy to deduce that they have had constant exercise. This action was, in fact, explained openly (Latsis, in the newspaper Red Terror, November 1, 1918):

“We are not fighting against single individuals. We are exterminating the bourgeois class. It is not necessary during the interrogation to look for evidence proving that the accused opposed the Soviets by word or action. The first question which you should ask him is what class does he belong to, what is his origin, his education and profession. These are the questions which will determine the fate of the accused. Such is the sense and the essence of Red Terror.”

A decree of the defense Council on February 15, 1919 (the meeting was evidently presided over by Lenin), suggest that the Cheka and the NKVD take hostages among the peasants of those regions where “the cleaning of snow from the railroads does not proceed quite satisfactorily” and noted that “these hostages be executed if the cleaning is not completed.” In other words, free people were simply arrested and executed immediately…

The practice of arresting students began in 1921. In the spring of 1922 the Patriarch Tikhon was arrested and two resounding trials were held, following by the execution of those who had publicized the Patriarch’s appeal. Metropolitans and bishops were arrested, and, as always, in the wake of the big fish, followed shoals of smaller fry: archpriests, monks, and deacons. They arrested and sentenced active laymen. The circles kept getting bigger, as they raked in ordinary believers as well, old people, and particularly women, who were the most stubborn believers of all. As Tanya Khodkevich wrote:

You can pray freely
But just so God alone can hear.

(She received a ten-year sentence for these verses.) A person convinced that he possessed spiritual truth was required to conceal it from his own children. In the twenties the religious education of children was classified as a political crime under Article 58-10 of the Code.

In 1929, also, those historians who had not been sent abroad in time were arrested… It even reached a point of such confusion that men and women were imprisoned in the same cells and used the latrine bucket in each other’s presence—who cared about those niceties? Give up your gold, vipers! The interrogators had one universal method: feed the prisoners nothing but salty food and give them no water. Whoever coughed up gold got water. One gold piece for a cup of water!

In sheer size this nonrecurring tidal wave (it was an ocean) swelled beyond the bounds of anything the penal system or even an immense state can permit itself. There was nothing to be compared with in all Russian history. It was the forced resettlement of a whole people, an ethnic catastrophe.

This wave was also distinct from all those which preceded it because no one fused about with taking the head of the family first and then working out what to do with the rest of the family. On the contrary, in this wave they burned out whole nests, whole families, from the start; and they watched jealously to be sure that none of the children—fourteen, ten, even six year old— got away: to the last scrapings, all had to go the same road, to the same common destruction. (This was the first such experiment—at least in modern history. It was subsequently repeated by Hitler with the Jews.)

In 1941 the Germans went round Tagnrog, cutting it off so swiftly that prisoners were left in freight wagons at the railway station where they had been brought to be evacuated. What should one do with them? Certainly not set them free nor leave them to the Germans. Oil tank trucks were rushed to the station, and the wagons were drenched with oil and set on fire. All the prisoners were burned alive.

Chapter 3: “The Interrogation” (no ellipsis added between excerpts)

What had already been regarded as barbarism under Peter the Great, what might have been used against ten or twenty people in all during the time of Biron in the mid-eighteenth century, what had already become totally impossible under Catharine the Great, was all being practiced during the flowering of the glorious twentieth century—in a society based on socialist principles—not by one scoundrel alone, but by tens of thousands of specially trained human beasts standing over millions of defenseless victims.

In 1952 Anna Skripnikova was undergoing her fifth imprisonment, and Sivakov, Chief of the Investigative Department of the Ordzhonikidze State Security Administration, said to her:

“The prison doctor reports you have a blood pressure of 240/120. That’s too low you bitch! We’re going to drive it up to 340 so you’ll kick the bucket, you viper, and with no black and blue marks; no beatings; no broken bones. We’ll just not let you sleep.”

She was in her fifties at the time. And if, back in her cell, after a night spent in interrogation, she closed her eyes during the day, the jailer broke in and shouted: “Open your eyes or I’ll haul you off that cot by the legs and tie you to the wall standing up.”

As early as 1921 interrogations usually took place at night. And there was an airtight cork-lined cell in which there was no ventilation and they cooked the prisoners. A participant in the Yaroslavl uprising of 1918, Vasily Aleksandrovich Kasyanov, described how the heat in such a cell was turned up until your blood begin to ooze through your pores.

Then in the years 1937-1938, in view of the extraordinary situation prevailing (the specified millions of admissions to the Archipelago had to be ground through the apparatus of individual interrogation in specified, limited periods, something which had simply not happened in the mass waves of kulaks and nationalities), interrogators were allowed to use violence and torture on an unlimited basis, at their own discretion. For the first time in human history the calculated torture of millions was being undertaken.

In the Novocherkassk NKVD, Yelena Strutimskaya was forced to remain seated on a stool in the corridor for six days in such a way that she did not lean against anything, did not sleep, did not fall off, and did not get up from. Six days! Just try to sit that way for six hours! People could be compelled to kneel in the interrogator’s office or the corridor for twelve, or even twenty-four hours. (The interrogator himself could go home, sleep, amuse himself in one way or another—this was an organized system; watch was kept over the kneeling prisoner, and the guards worked in shifts.) What kind of prisoner was most vulnerable to such treatment? It was a good method to use with women. Ivanov-Razumnik reports a variation of it: Having set young Lordkipanidze on his knees, the interrogator urinated in his face! And what happened? Unbroken by anything else, Lordkipanidze was broken by this. Watch shows that the method also worked well on proud people.

Then there is the method of simply compelling the prisoner to stand there, and if he goes to sleep and falls over he is given a kick and straightened up.

Sleeplessness, which they quite failed to appreciate in medieval times: They did not understand how narrow are the limits within which a human being can preserve his personality intact. Sleeplessness (yes, combined with standing, thirst, bright, light terror, and the unknown—what other tortures are needed?) befogs the reason, undermines the will, and the human being ceases to be himself, to be his own “I.” (As in Chekov’s “I Want to Sleep,” but there it was much easier, for there the girl could lie down and slip into lapses of consciousness, which even in just a minute could revive and refresh the brain.) A person deprived of sleep acts half-consciously or altogether unconsciously, so that his testimony cannot be held against him.

Sometimes, as a refinement, instead of making the prisoner stand up, they made him sit down on a soft sofa, which made him want to sleep all the more. (The jailer on duty sat next to him on the same sofa and kicked him every time his eyes began to shut.) Sleeplessness became the universal method of the Organs. The prisoners were forbidden to sleep even one minute. Whoever was undergoing interrogation got no sleep for at least five days and nights. The above method was further implemented by an assembly line of interrogators. Not only were you not allowed to sleep, but for three or four days shifts of interrogators kept up a continuous interrogation.

As long ago as 1933 this was one of the ways they tortured S.A. Chebotaryev in the Khabarovsk GPU. They locked him in a concrete alcove in such a way that he could neither bend his knees, nor straighten up and change the position of his arms, not turn his head. And that was not all! They began to drip cold water into his scalp—a classic torture—which then ran down his body in rivulets. They did not inform him, of course, that this would go on for only twenty-four hours. It was awful enough at any rate for him to lose consciousness, and he was discovered the next day apparently dead. He came to on a hospital cot. They had brought him out of his faint with spirits of ammonia, caffeine, and body massage. At first he had no recollection of where he had been, or what happened. For a whole month he was useless for interrogation.

[The] bridling, also known as “the swan dive”: This was a Sukhanovka method—also used in Archangel, where the interrogator Ivkov applied it in 1940. A lone piece of rough toweling was inserted between the prisoner’s jaws like a bridle; the ends were then pulled back over his shoulders and tied to his heels. Just try lying on your stomach like a wheel, with your spine breaking—and without water and food for two days!

Is it necessary to go on with the list?

Chapter 4. “The bluecaps” (no ellipsis added between excerpts)

“Just give us a person and we will create a case!” That was what many of them say jokingly, and it was their slogan. What we think of torture they think of as a good work. The wife of the interrogator Nikolai Grabishchenko (the Volga Canal Project) said touchingly to her neighbors: “Kolya is a very good worker. One of them didn’t confess for a long time—and they gave him to Kolya. Kolya talked with him for one night and he confessed.”

You have a power over all the people in that military unit, or factory, or district, incomparably greater than that of the military commander, or factory director, or secretary of the district Communist Party. These men control people’s military or official duties, wages, reputations, but you control people’s freedom. From the moment you don that heavenly blue service cap, you stand higher than the publicly acknowledged power.

The girl is blushing all over and in tears. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the case,” she protests. “Yes, it does, speak up!” If you want, she’ll demonstrate with her body. She has no way out. In your hands you hold the punishment cell and her prison term.

To know what it meant to be a bluecap one had to experience it! Anything you saw was yours! [But] let everyone ask himself: “If my life had turned out differently, might I myself not have become just such an executioner?” Twenty-year-olds, we marched in the ranks of those born the year the Revolution took place, and because we were the same age as the Revolution, the brightest of futures lay ahead.

It would be hard to identify the exact source of that inner intuition, not founded on rational argument, which prompted our refusal to enter the NKVD schools. It certainly didn’t derive from the lectures on historical materialism we listened to: it was clear from them that the struggle against the internal enemy was a crucial battlefront, and to share in it was an honorable task.

Still, some of us were recruited at that time, and I think that if they had really put the pressure on, they could have broken everybody’s resistance. So I would like to imagine: if, by the time war broke out, I had already been wearing an NKVD’s officer’s insignia on my blue tabs, what would I have become? So let the reader who expects this book to be a political exposé slam its covers shut right now.

If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.

Socrates taught us: Know thyself! Confronted by the pit into which we are about to toss those who have done us harm, we halt, stricken dumb: it is after all only because of the way things worked out that they were the executioners and we weren’t. Just how are we to understand that? As the act of an evildoer? What sort of behavior is this?

We would prefer to say that such people cannot exist, that there aren’t any. It is permissible to portray evildoers in a story for children, so as to keep the picture simple. But when the great world literature of the past—Shakespeare, Schiller, Dickens—inflates and inflates images of evildoers of the blackest shades, it seems somewhat farcical and clumsy to our contemporary perception. The trouble lies in the way these classic evildoers are pictured. They recognize themselves as evildoers, and they know their souls are black. And they reason: “I cannot live unless I do evil. So I’ll set my father against my brother! I will drink the victim’s sufferings until I’m drunk with them!” Iago very precisely identifies his purposes and his motives as being black and born of hate.

But no; that’s not the way it is! To do evil a human being must first of all believe that what he’s doing is good, or else that it’s a well-considered act in conformity with natural law. Fortunately, it is in the nature of the human being to seek a justification for his actions. Macbeth’s self-justifications were feeble—and his conscience devoured him. Yes, even Iago was a little lamb too. The imagination and the spiritual strength of Shakespeare’s evildoers stopped short at a dozen corpses. Because they had no ideology.

Thanks to ideology, the twentieth century was fated to experience evildoing on a scale calculated in the millions. This cannot be denied, nor passed over, nor suppressed. How then, do we dare to insist that evildoers do not exist? And who was it that destroyed these millions? Without evildoers there would have been no Archipelago. That is the precise line the Shakespearean evildoer could not cross. But the evildoer with ideology does cross it, and his eyes remain dry and clear…

In that same period, by 1966, eighty-six thousand Nazi criminals had been convicted in West Germany. And still we choke with anger here. The fact that the murderers of our husbands and fathers ride through our streets and we make way for them as they pass, doesn’t get us worked up at all, doesn’t touch us. That would be “digging the past.”

Meanwhile, if we translate 86,000 West Germans into our own terms, on the basis of comparative population figures, it would become one-quarter of a million. Why is Germany allowed to punish its evildoers and Russia is not? What kind of disastrous path lies ahead of us if we do not have the chance to purge ourselves of that putrefaction rotting inside our body? What, then, can Russia teach the world?

Someday our descendants will describe our several generations as generations of driveling do-nothings. In keeping silent about evil, in burying it so deep within us that no sign of it appears on the surface, we are implanting it, and it will rise up a thousandfold in the future.

Chapter 5: “First Cell, First Love” (no ellipsis added between excerpts)

How is one to take the title of this chapter? Out of all the cells you have been in, your first cell is a very special one. All your life you will remember it… those days when you rethought your entire life. But it was not the dirty floor, nor the murky walls, nor the odor of the latrine bucket that you loved. For a week or a month you had been an abandoned waif, alone among enemies, and you had already said good-bye to reason and to life; and you had already tried to kill yourself by “falling” from the radiator in such a way as to smash your brains against the iron cone of the valve. Then all of a sudden you are alive again. And reason returned to you.

And that was the purpose of silent Sukhanovka: to leave the prisoner not a single moment for sleep, not a single stolen moment for privacy. You were always being watched and always in their power. But if you endured the whole duel with insanity and all the trials and loneliness, and had stood firm, you deserved your first cell! And now when you got into it, your soul would heal.

I had been dueling for four days with the interrogator, when the jailer, having waited until I lay down to sleep in my blindingly lit box, began to unlock my door. I heard him all right, but before he could say: “Get up! Interrogation!” I wanted to lie for another three-hundredths of a second. One night of undisturbed sleep was more important than all the fates on earth! And I lay there. Interrogation still pending over me, but how far it had retreated!

And there was no reason to be bored with my companions. They were people to listen and people with whom to compare notes. The old fellow with lively eyebrows—and at sixty-three he in no way bore himself like an old man—was Anatoly Ilych Fastenko. There was much in Fastenko I could not understand. In my eyes, perhaps the main thing about him, and the most surprising, was that he had known Lenin personally. Yet he was quite cool in recalling this. (Such was my attitude at the time that when someone in the cell called Fastenko by his patronymic alone, without using his given name—in other words simply “Ilych,” asking: “Ilych, is it your turn to take out the latrine bucket?” —I was utterly outraged and offended because it seemed sacrilege to me not only to use Lenin’s patronymic in the same sentence as “latrine bucket,” but even to call anyone on earth “Ilych” except that one man, Lenin.) Observing my enthusiasm, more than once Fastenko said to me insistently: “You are a mathematician; it’s a mistake for you to forget that maxim of Descartes: ‘Question everything!’ Question everything!” What did this mean—“everything”? Certainly not everything!

When, in the spring of 1943, recruiters from the first Byelorussian “legions” put in an appearance, some POWs signed up with them to escape starvation. Yuri went with them out of conviction, with a clear mind. Yuri became lieutenant in the German Army. In all, Yuri spent three weeks in our cell. I argued with him all these weeks. I said that our Revolution was magnificent and just; that only its 1929 distortion was terrible. He looked at me regretfully, compressing his nervous lips.

On May 2 a thirty-gun salute roared out. That meant a European capital. Only two had not yet been captured—Prague and Berlin. We tried to guess which it was.

That victory was not for us. And that spring was not for us either.

Chapter 6: “That Spring” [The concealed history of forced repatriation to the Soviet Union]

Along with them [a big wave of civilians that flowed into the Archipelago] were seized no less than one million fugitives from the Soviet government —civilians of all ages and both sexes who in 1946-1947 were perfidiously returned by Allied authorities into Soviet hands […]. Not until 1973—in the Sunday Oklahoman of January 21—was an article by Julius Epstein published. And I am here going to be so bold as to express gratitude on behalf of the mass of those who perished and those few left alive. One random little document was published from the many volumes of the hitherto concealed case history of forced repatriation to the Soviet Union.

That spring of 1945 was, in our prisons, predominantly the spring of the Russian prisoners of war. Not only war prisoners passed through those cells. A wave of those who had spent any time in Europe was rolling too: émigrés from the Civil War; the “ostovtsy”—workers recruited as laborers by the Germans during World War II. It was the war prisoners who constituted the bulk of the wave.

“The Motherland has forgiven you! The Motherland has forgiven you!” and snared them the moment they reached the frontiers. It would appear that during the one thousand one hundred years of Russia’s existence as a state there have been, ah, how many foul and terrible deeds! But among them was there ever so multimillioned foul a deed as this: to betray one’s own soldiers and proclaim them traitors? Then, under the most just social system in the world, came the most just war of all—and all of nowhere millions of traitors appeared, from among the simplest, lowliest elements of the population. How is this to be understood and explained? Capitalist England fought at our side against Hitler; Marx had eloquently described the poverty and suffering of the working class in the same England. Why was it that in this war only one traitor could be found among them—but in our country millions?

The Vlasov men.

In addition, there were a few volunteer anti-Soviet units, made up of former Soviet citizens but under the command of German officers. The Lithuanians were the first to start supporting the Germans (understandably so: we had really hurt them beyond endurance in just one year!). Then the Ukrainians formed a voluntary SS division, and the Estonians joined a few SS units. In Byelorussia there was a people’s militia fighting against the partisans: 100,000 men. When the Germans conquered our southern regions, the number of volunteer battalions increased: there was a Georgian one, an Armenian one, a battalion of the Northern Caucasus peoples, and sixteen Kalmyk battalions. During the German retreat from the Don region, about fifteen thousand Cossacks followed the German army. The Briansk region had twenty thousand armed men. They called themselves “The Russian National Liberation Army.”

Vlasov made public appearances in the theaters of Smolensk and Pskov, both filled to capacity; he spoke about the goals of the liberation movement and then proceeded to declare openly that national socialism was unacceptable for Russia but that, on the other hand, it was impossible to overthrow the Bolsheviks without the Germans. Those were the last months during which millions of Soviet people were still out of Stalin’s reach and could fight against the Bolshevik slavery and organize their own independent existence.

But there was a gap between the Russian and the Western conscience which exist to this day. The West was fighting only against Hitler, and for this purpose all means and all allies were good, the Soviets above all. Not only could the West not concede that the Soviet people might have their own purposes which did not coincide with the goals of the Communist government; it did not want to admit any such thought, because it would have been embarrassing and difficult to live with. It is a tragicomic fact that on the leaflets which the Western allies were distributing among the anti-Bolshevik volunteer battalions on the Western front, they wrote: “We promise all defectors that they will be immediately sent back to the Soviet Union.” We soon discovered that they really were Russians fighting against us and that they fought harder than any SS men.

The West simply has to understand that Bolshevism is an enemy for all mankind. But the West did not understand at all. In World War II the West kept defending its own freedom and defended it for itself. As for us and as for Eastern Europe, it buried us in an even more absolute and hopeless slavery. But nobody heard that squeaking. Most of the America military commanders were amazed to learn about the existence of Russians who were not Soviets; they thought it quite natural to hand them all over to the Soviet state. The ROA [Russian Liberation Army] not only surrendered to the Americans; it implored them to accept its capitulation and begged for one thing only: the promise that Americans would not extradite them to the Soviets.

In Yalta Churchill and Roosevelt had signed the agreement to repatriate all Soviet citizens, and especially the military, without specifying whether the repatriation was to be voluntary or enforced: How could any people on earth not be willing to return to their homes? The nearsightedness of the West was condensed in what was written at Yalta.

The English turned over the Soviet army command a Cossack corps of forty to forty-five thousand men which had fought its way to Austria from Yugoslavia. The extradition was carried out with perfidy which is characteristic of British diplomatic tradition. The Cossacks did not grow suspicious when they were asked to turn in their weapons, on the grounds that this was necessary in order to standardize their equipment. On May 28… [Chechar’s note: Solzhenitsyn describes in this paragraph how the Allied forces extradited these Russian people, against their will, to Stalin.]

They could not even shoot or stab themselves to death, since all their weapons had been taken away. Some jumped off the high viaduct into the river or onto the stones. The hearts of the British were not troubled, nor were their democratic minds. British tanks and soldiers arrived. The British soldiers started beating them with rifle butts and clubs, grabbing them and throwing them into the trucks, including the wounded, as if they were packages. Entire families sought death by throwing themselves into the river. Meanwhile, the British units in the neighborhood pursued and shot at the fugitives. (The cemetery where the people who were shot or trampled to death and buried still exists in Lienz.)

But even that was only the beginning. During all of 1946 and 1947 the Western allies, faithful to Stalin, continued to turn over to him Soviet citizens, former soldiers as well as civilians. It did not really matter who they were as long as the West could get rid of this human confusion as quickly as possible. People were extradited from Austria, Germany, France, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, from the American occupation zones, and from the territory of the United States as well.

Now, a quarter of a century later, when most of the Vlasov men have perished in camps and those who have survived are living out their lives in the Far North, I would like to issue a reminder, through these pages, that this was a phenomenon totally unheard of in all world history: that several hundred thousand young men, aged twenty to thirty, took up arms against their Fatherland as allies of its most evil enemy.

Those who stayed behind

November 10, 2011


My parting word to Alice Miller’s fans

Any Miller fan who honestly faces my approach to psychohistory described in the fourth book of Whispering Leaves (WL), finds himself in the middle of a bridge. In fact, he’s between two completely different territories: the content of this blog (call it Country M for Miller) and the content of my other blog, The West’s Darkest Hour (call it Country N for nationalists).

Crossing over the suspension bridge, from the findings of Alice Miller and Lloyd deMause to defending the West against an ethnocidal war, is truly staggering. But precisely my fourth book of WL helps the adventurer to move from one country to the other while keeping some calm among the sides of the chasm. However, as this blog is basically for those who have already read my WL, I’ll refrain from further explanation and go straight to the point.

The fans of Miller and deMause trapped in Country M are contributing, through their ignorance of what’s happening in the world, to the escalation of child abuse due to massive non-Caucasian migration into the West and their astounding reproductive rates: ethnic groups that abuse their children more than us.

Anyone who’s trapped in Country M has no perspective to see what the treacherous elites, through their social engineering, are perpetrating in our nations. I shall mention the names of the Miller fans that stayed behind me:

Daniel Mackler. In mid-2006 I called the attention to this New Yorker, the victim of a Jewish mother, about Islam and the Muslim treatment of children. When, after long discussions in his forum Mackler didn’t answer honestly my points, in 2007 I became more impatient. But Mackler never faced the implications of psychohistory, in spite of the fact that deMause lives also in NY and despite my insistence that he should familiarize himself with psychohistorical literature. In 2008 I lost all patience and in early 2009 I exposed Mackler as a false follower of Miller. Note that originally I was courteous to Mackler, and only when he repeatedly ignored my arguments I exposed him.

Dennis Rodie. Rodie is a Dutchman I don’t hate as I hate the self-righteous Mackler. But Rodie is one of those typical ultra-liberal Europeans who pose as saints to be photographed next to black children (immigrants to Sweden, where he lives). Rodie is willfully ignorant that the immigrants are the main perpetrators of rapes on native Swedish women, as well as notorious abusers of children of color.

Like millions of European ultra-liberals, Rodie’s case is hopeless. The unconscious ideology that he and Mackler subscribe is not, as they claim, to protect children but liberalism (cf. this excellent article by Larry Auster about liberalism: the secular religion that is killing us).

Kerry Watson (also a deMause fan) has used several sockpuppets in Rodie’s forum, including “Bookish” and “Bernard.” The son of an Egyptian Muslim woman who abused him as a child and a native Englishman, Watson is a typical grumpy that gets upset about everything. He got pissed with me since I became critical of those who claim to be protectors of children—including CCHR, deMause, Breggin and others—when in reality all of them failed to side the child properly (remember my chapter critical of deMause in my book). Obviously, because of the Egyptian blood running in his veins, “Watson” will never agree with me that we have to expel thousands upon thousands of Muslims that have invaded the UK, where he lives.

Andreas Wirsén (also a deMause fan). This young Swede hates me. He has hated me since I confronted him with his apathy about doing absolutely nothing to save the West, not even reading the literature I indicated him about the havoc produced in Sweden through the immigration engineered by his government.

Wirsén has appeared from time to time in my blog to insult me with the crassest vulgarisms because I crossed from Country M to Country N. He also hates me because he cannot explain to himself how I exchanged Miller for Hitler (see my blog The West’s Darkest Hour). And how will he explain it if, like the others, he never properly analyzes the content of The West’s Darkest Hour? In other words, Wirsén’s hatred against my ideas is purely visceral. No arguments.

José Luis Cano-Gil (though Miller was his mentor he has published a translation of deMause’s seminal paper in his website in Spanish). Apparently, in this case there was a misunderstanding. Before Cano-Gil moved the domain of his blog to a website, in one of the discussion threads a comment of mine disappeared, where I defended myself from the attack of a deranged woman. I assumed Cano-Gil had deleted it. Then I reacted with precipitation believing that he had censored me (sometimes the bugs at Blogspot do naughty thinks like disappear comments).

At any event, so far Cano-Gil hasn’t said a word about my “bridge” which, he told me, he would consider. The last time I looked at his blog he still hasn’t mentioned anything about the massive non-white immigration in his country, Spain. In other words, for a protector of children who has made the transition from Country M to N, the priority is to remove the millions of European immigrants who are coming with infinitely more primitive forms of childrearing than ours. We don’t have resources to educate them all: that’s deranged altruism, i.e., liberalism. Expelling them is the only rational way. Those who do not promote the expulsion of Moors and Jews à la 1492 have not crossed my bridge (see a Prologue in my blog about the Jewish Question).

Jeff. This man, who I guess lives in California, maintains a forum where he signs his posts under the penname of “Becoming Other.” Jeff was the last of the Miller fans I met online, and in this blog I’ve included some entries about his radical thought. Like me, something horrible happened to Jeff with his father. However, unlike me Jeff avoids to confess exactly what happened.

Because of this, and just like the deranged woman I mentioned above, Jeff has transferred all his rage against his father’s culture (see this article). He’s worse than Mackler in one sense. When arguing with Mackler, at least he made a timid attempt to answer the psychohistorical data through which I tried raising awareness about the Moors. Jeff on the other hand stonewalled me by ignoring everything I said about it without a single argument. It’s true that, with his radicalism, Jeff is much more courageous than the others mentioned above. But he’s too locked into his subjective world, to the extent of losing elemental empathy in his relationship with others. (For example, Jeff saturated Rodie’s forum this year with many soliloquies that nobody answered, and at the same time he was surprised when Rodie simply deleted them.) Like Teresa, the deranged woman, Jeff has no remedy. The last time I visited his forum—and after seeing what he wrote I won’t ever do it again—, I learnt that Jeff wants still lower rates of reproduction in Germany, one of the countries that’s suffering the worst demographic winter among Aryans!

Jeff / Becoming Other is a traitor to the West, and a traitor to his race. See for example this comment of mine about such treachery.

Conclusions about my former countrymen

It’s true that in Country N I’m the only fan of Miller. But the nationalists, my new buddies since I left Country M, are aware of the need to expel from our lands these various people that, if we allow their continuing reproduction while at the same time dwarfing our birth rates (Danny Mackler’s psychotic advice), we will arrive to neither country M nor N, but to Eurabia.

Translated and slightly edited from Spanish (here).

On the basis of what Daniel Mackler (photo) wrote in his forum back in 2006-2007, I collected a few key sentences for my Amazon Books review. As stated in my previous post, this longer review got probably censored by Mackler but I reproduce it for this blog:

Unlike an academic book that Daniel Mackler coedited, and unlike another coauthored Mackler book with many authors, Toward Truth: A Psychological Guide to Enlightenment is Mackler’s most personal statement. Both in the book’s front cover picture and in its contents, Mackler’s “Enlightenment” concept is so central (“This is about my favorite subject, more precious to me than all the others, really”) that it merits an analysis of its own.

First question, is Daniel Mackler truly “enlightened”? As a child advocate, what strikes me the most about the books and writings of Mackler, including Toward Truth, is the fact that he gives no credit to Lloyd deMause, a well-known social thinker for his work in the field of psychohistory. DeMause lives in Mackler’s town and started to publish on abusive childrearing when Danny was a little kid. Of course, when one finds out that the ultimate conclusion of deMause’s psychohistory is that childrearing methods are even worse in non-western cultures, the reason for Mackler’s aprioristic dismissal of psychohistory becomes obvious.

Like most New York Jews of his age, Mackler is an extreme liberal who subscribes the post-modern fads of our suicidal Zeitgeist (of the books I’ve reviewed for Amazon, take a close look at my review of Preserving Western Civilization by Michael H. Hart). Mackler may not be fully aware but he unconsciously subscribes what anthropologists call cultural relativism. Mackler wrote:

This [deMause’s “psychoclass” concept], to me, accounts for the danger in just labeling another culture inferior, or labeling them totally “infanticidal.” It basically says that they are totally evil, vile, useless, and moronic—and that we have nothing to learn from them, whereas this might not always be the case. Likewise, it makes it too easy to idealize ourselves…

Of course, Mackler is ignorant of psychohistory. Neither deMause nor other psycho-historians say that the tribes are “totally evil” or “totally infanticidal”, and they never, ever idealize themselves.

When a New Age therapist like Mackler pursues “full internal connection” that purportedly culminates in “Enlightenment”, is he saying it’s possible to heal the real world through introspection without political action (yes: even war against inferior cultures, as the Romans erased notorious Carthage, which used to burn their children alive)? To put it bluntly, when confronted with conservative political thinking, Mackler distorts psychohistory and magically turns gruesome historical facts, like infanticide and child sacrifice among aboriginals, into navel gazing of his own body. Elsewhere Mackler wrote:

Chances are I’ll never make it to New Guinea [the home of a notorious infanticidal tribe], and they’ll never hear of me. My job—our job—as I see it, is to “reform the most regressive psychoclass” within ourselves, to heal within. Part of me is still primitive and regressed.

Mackler thus confuses the objective world where non-westerners abuse their children more than we do with his petty, New Age-ish subjective world. He is essentially saying that his job is to be free from his traumas within, as if such practice would put an end to the infanticidal behavior of New Guinea parents!

Infanticide at Oceania and in the surviving tribes of the world may not have a direct impact on our civilization. But since both women and children are badly mistreated in Islam, the ongoing massive migration of Muslims into Europe has become an issue.

This should be a no-brainer for genuine child advocates. But I am appalled by the fact that both Miller’s and deMause’s fans—including Mackler and even Mackler’s critics!—, are willfully ignorant of it. Here I cannot discuss the books by Bruce Bawer, Robert Spencer, Oriana Fallaci and many others. Suffice it to say that the collapsing demographics of white westerners are placing in great danger the child advocates’ cause and what deMause calls “helping mode” of childrearing. This is because, like Mackler himself, many potentially helping parents are refusing to breed. To boot, Muslim immigrants are breeding profusely, and they crave to impose Sharia Law in their adopted European countries—i.e., Koranic law, which mandates greater abuse on women and children than what we male westerners do.

A book written in… Mars?

It took Will Durant more than three decades to write the monumental The Story of Civilization. After finishing the ten volumes of the Story, it followed the essay The Lessons of History, which reflects both Durant’s erudition and his accumulated wisdom. I read The Lessons of History in 1996 and would like to quote some excerpts from one of the chapters, “Biology and History”. It resonates with the point I am trying to make against Mackler’s ethics (“My real point of view is about how horrible most [Western] parents are and why they shouldn’t have children, which I addressed in the Alice Miller paper”). Durant wrote:

So the first biological lesson of history is that life is competition. The second biological lesson of history is that life is selection. We are all born unfree and unequal. Nature loves difference. Inequality is not only natural and inborn, it grows with the complexity of civilization.

Nature smiles at the union of freedom and equality in our utopias. For freedom and equality are sworn and everlasting enemies, and when one prevails the other dies. Leave man free, and their natural inequalities will multiply almost geometrically, as in England and America in the nineteen-century under laissez-faire […].

Utopias of equality are biologically doomed.

The third biological lesson of history is that life must breed. Nature has no use of organisms, variations, or groups that cannot reproduce abundantly [like homosexuals, whom incidentally Daniel Mackler vehemently defends]. She has a passion for quantity as prerequisite to selection of quality. She does not care that a high rate has usually accompanied a culturally low civilization, and a low birth rate a civilization culturally high; and she sees that a nation with low birth rate shall be periodically chastened by some more virile and fertile group.

It is amusing to find Julius Caesar offering (59 B.C.) rewards to Romans who had many children, and forbidding childless women to ride litters or wear jewelry. In the United States the lower birth rate of the Anglo-Saxon has lessened their economic and political power. So the birth rate, like war, may determine the fate of theologies; just as the defeat of the Moslems at Tours (732) kept France and Spain from replacing the Bible with the Koran.

There is no humorist like history.

Compared to Durant’s Story, Mackler’s Toward Truth seems to have been written in Mars. The central problem is Mackler’s pet concept of “Enlightenment”, a state of mind that… Mackler himself defines! (“no dreams”, “no unconscious” and other similar stuff). Yes, it is Mackler the one who defines when a Caucasian person is enlightened enough and thus has the right to have children. Absurdly, Dan Mackler doesn’t preach to the Muslim immigrants to stop breeding; let alone has he suggested, like in some essays of Preserving Western Civilization, to expel them (and other Third World child abusers) from Europe and the U.S.

If Mackler’s “Enlightenment” or Thou Salt Not Reproduce ethic were just his personal decision for not getting married and having kids, I would not object. But Mackler is preaching to others: “they shouldn’t have children” (my emphasis). Yes, Mackler places his bar to get the right to breed so high that he believes that the Enlightened one, presumably the reproductive guy, will have no need to dream! Obviously if every westerner followed Daniel’s advice, both Western Civilization and the white race would go extinct. If psychohistory got its facts right, Mackler’s little utopia would leave the world’s children in far greater danger of being abused in the surviving non-white, non-western cultures.

How can we understand Mackler’s extraordinary mind? In Toward Truth: A Psychological Guide to Enlightenment, whenever Mackler speaks of the abused child he refers to him as “he”, while the abusive parent is a “she”. This makes me read his text between the lines.

Using his real name, Mackler has confessed in his YouTube videos that the perpetrator in his life was his mother. Curious… Couldn’t his distribution of gender roles suggest that the fuss he made on poor Alice Miller (presumably because her occasional sexual fantasy, not acts, toward her offspring) be Mackler’s own projection? What exactly his mother did to him when he was younger? Alas, Mackler has stated that he won’t publish his four-volume autobiography during our lifespan, where he discusses what happened to him. He wrote:

I have made certain decisions regarding keeping most aspects of my personal life personal […], so it might come across as hypocritical for me to pick apart the personal lives of others, and I sometimes feel a guilt about this. With [Ellie] Van Winkle, though, she has been dead for over five years, so I feel that is acceptable. Also, I have no intention of leaving my personal story untold forever. I have actually written a huge amount of it down, in excruciating detail, both in ways that tells the truth about my traumatizers and also tells the truth about the ways—both very healthy and very unhealthy—that I reacted to it. But I can’t see publishing it anytime soon—my thought is that it’s decades and decades away. Perhaps after I and many others have died. I don’t know.

Mackler is wrong. Toward Truth does not “take Alice Miller to the next level” as it says on the cover. It’s just the opposite. Unlike Mackler, Miller shared a lot about her intimate life. Andreas Wirsén has noted that statements such as the above are a step backwards from Miller’s soul-searching legacy. Don’t take my word for it. The proof in the pudding: just read Mackler’s books and compare them with Miller’s and see what do I mean.

I wanted to write a review debunking Mackler the very year that my beloved Alice Miller died. My conclusion is that child studies do indeed need to take her findings to the next level. But what we need is a saner turn, like merging Miller’s findings with psychohistory. I’ve written a book on this very subject (see sample chapter here), but the subject goes far beyond our present review.

Note of March 12, 2012:

And now, thanks to our complains, the reviews have been restored.

I have read the September 17, 2010 book-review in Amazon of the book by Mackler Toward Truth: A Psychological Guide to Enlightenment. The very title is imbued with the entrapments of the New Age. Below I quote part of the book-review I’ve just read in epistle form:

Hi Sylvie,

How are you? I finished reading the book and I agree with you to a great extent. By no means DM [Daniel Mackler] “takes Alice Miller to the next level” as it says on the cover and as he seems to see himself. There is nothing much new in this book that Alice Miller hasn’t already said, but in a much better, clearer and more convincing way. He has no real arguments to prove what he says and just repeats what he has read or heard elsewhere and adds some of his own personal points of view, which he has a right to of course, but which he shouldn’t present as general truths, for example his views on sex, relationships, abortion and having children or even keeping pets.

To me he seems a very frustrated person who has not overcome his own traumas as much as he thinks [my emphasis]. The whole book seems more like a personal diary, which may help him in his own personal quest to find himself, but I don’t find it very helpful for someone who is looking for a way out of his or her childhood trauma.

Before he works as a therapist or gives advice to others, he should get a lot of more things settled for himself, in my opinion. He touches a lot of general subjects and truths without getting deeper into any of them, unlike Alice Miller who concentrates on concrete cases and uses them to explain the general mechanism of how mistreatment affects the individual and the society.

Apart from that, I don’t really understand his criteria for enlightenment. Who defines when a person is fully, partially or not at all enlightened and thus has the right to have children for example? I think he generalizes far too much without giving convincing explanations for his opinions, which is ok, as long as it is just his opinion and not an expectation to others.

In general I don’t disagree with what he writes, because it’s obvious that his intentions are good and he wants to defend children. Maybe I wouldn’t go as far as you to call him abusive, I think it’s a question of definition, but I also found him confusing and not very precise, especially for people who read this book without knowing Alice Miller. I think he will rather confirm the negative options of people who reject or minimize the idea of the importance of childhood traumas than convince them. To me he seems to be a perfectionist and a puritan.

As to his language I found it simply horrible, hammering the same phrases over and over again into the reader’s mind, using anaphors (all the sentences starting with the same words) all the time (e.g., it comes as no surprise… if he is fortunate… he conceives… he imagines… etc.). This is the typical stylistic device used by a preacher or a politician who wants to convince his audience of something he has not completely understood himself, trying to give power to his words and to make up for the lack of genuine meaning. His style is demagogic, polemic and fanatic and he states a lot of common places and platitudes (something that he criticises in other writers). When I was reading the book, especially the first part, I visualized a fanatic man preaching to a big crowd. Besides I don’t like his distribution of gender roles, whenever he speaks of the abused child he refers to HIM as HE, while the abusive parent is always a SHE, the same when he speaks of the therapist: the (enlightened) therapist is always a HE while the patient is a SHE. I think this is just discriminating and sexist use of language, even if it is exchangeable, it’s quite significant.

[Paragraph unrelated to Mackler omitted. Note that Mackler himself has confessed in YouTube that his mother was the perpetrator in his childhood—cf. Wirsén’s point about post-Miller entrapments. Search for the phrase: “the author secretly smuggling out and reworking, often lying about and numbing, their abusive emotional childhood…”]

Back to DM I think his book is definitely not a great work of art, but whoever writes a book writes it from his or her own point of view, and it’s up to the readers what we make of it: if we like it or if we consider it worthwhile. Every attempt to make people aware of the connection between childhood dramas and the state of our world is good.

Conclusion: let’s write a better book, a more practical one that might really appeal to people who usually don’t read this kind of books.

Hope to hear from you soon.




Note of October 9, 2011:

The above review is gone! It looks like Mackler asked Amazon Books to censor this review from their site.

My own review was deleted from Amazon too, on the excuse that I quoted Mackler violating his copyright. Actually my review was removed twice! But then I re-submitted it without the quotations and, at least for the moment, this shorter version of my review can be read at Amazon.

Note of March 12, 2012:

And now, thanks to our complains, the reviews have been restored.

In memory of Alice Miller


Only thanks to you

Could I finally see
What was done to me

Below I translate today’s short obituary of a grateful follower of Alice Miller, the Spanish psychologist José Luis Cano-Gil. It contrasts dramatically with the ungrateful “followers” of Miller such as Daniel Mackler, whose website contains as to date no obituary about her decease.

Though this was expected from someone as egocentric as Mackler, something similar could be said of some ex friends of mine. They show no gratitude to Miller even after her decease. Unlike these ungrateful “sons” of Miller, here there are Cano-Gil’s touching words:

I just received an email with horrible news: Alice Miller IS DEAD. I am shocked. My mind is empty… The tears rise to my eyes… She is dead. Alice Miller. My spiritual mother. The spiritual mother of my work, my website, this blog… Of all of us.

Thank you, Mrs. Miller, for your tremendous courage and humanity… For your great wisdom, born—alas—from your own suffering… Thank you for the lighting guide, example and freedom experience you have given to all of us…

Admirable Alice Miller, courageous explorer of pain and truth, discoverer of routes beyond human shadows with our perpetual remembrance and gratitude: THANK YOU!

Rest, at last, in peace.

On Daniel Mackler

January 7, 2009

Daniel Mackler (click on the pic) is Jewish from his mother’s side, plays a guitar and used to practice psycho-therapy in New York. Amateurishly, he has also filmed an anti-psychiatric documentary.

An enlightened pal or a stupid man crush?

Dan Mackler used to be my best internet friend. Now I have distanced myself from him. In this post I will mention some of the reasons that moved me to part ways from Mackler and Dennis Rodie, another Alice Miller fan and critic.

In July 10, 2006 I received a wonderful email from an unknown person telling me that he loved my critical book-review of Peter Breggin’s Toxic Psychiatry in Amazon Books. The email made me feel immensely validated. More than two years earlier the “Breggin affair” had left me extremely upset and disappointed, as explained below.

In 2003 I submitted a paper for publication in the journal Ethical Human Sciences and Services, now renamed Ethical Human Psychology and Psychiatry, Breggin’s journal. My paper debunked biological psychiatry from the perspective of non-falsifiable hypotheses. It also mentioned in passing the trauma model of mental disorders, including the work of pioneers Theodore Lidz, Silvano Arieti, Ronald Laing and, of course, the more emotionally mature work by Alice Miller. What a shock for me was to learn that Lawrence Simon, Breggin’s editor, would accept the paper only if I eliminated the section concerning the trauma model. I conceded to remove mention of the late researchers Lidz, Laing and Arieti. But even after submitting this modified version the editor demanded that I removed all reference to the trauma model, including Miller and other 21st century authors. I refused. Since Breggin had written favorably about Miller in Toxic Psychiatry, I could not believe my eyes: that his editor abhorred the trauma model as much as the medical model of mental disorders (the journal specializes in debunking biopsychiatry). Even more shocking was that, after complaining to Breggin himself through various emails and printed letters—I even sent one of them thru FedEx to make sure he would receive it—, he hided himself behind a wall of silence.

You can imagine how vindicated I must have felt when, out of the blue, I got that Daniel email telling me that he admired my courage in exposing this scandalous situation in my book-review of Breggin’s. When in July 2006 I learnt that this unknown person who just contacted me, Mackler, happened to be a big Miller fan, I felt that I had met a sort of ideological twin, even though we never met personally.

Alas, the illusion did not last long… In those early days Mackler was anxious that I commented on his online essay “An analysis of the limits of Alice Miller”. I read it, but since I didn’t want to place our online friendship on peril, I emailed him my critique to his critique in a most gentle way.

As weeks passed on I started to realize that Mackler was not exactly the ideological soulmate I believed him to be. What by then I didn’t tell him is that after reading his Miller essay I felt uncomfortable. It seemed unfair that he wrote of how Miller presumably treated her son and daughter long before Miller reached her present state of maturity. It just didn’t seem right to focus on purported character flaws instead of the positive aspects of a living person who, with Lloyd deMause, are the discoverers of profound psychology. As I said, I repressed this feeling in order to maintain the online friendship. After some minor quibbles in Mackler’s forum I still thought that Mackler—who once advised a poster never to have sex with her partner!—could be a best friend. He actually signed all his very warm emails with the phrase “Your friend, Daniel.”

Mackler fancying himself the Enlightened Buddha. (In his forum Mackler acknowledged about becoming Enlightened: “This is about my favorite subject, more precious to me than all the others, really.”)

Then it came out our dispute about the Muslim world in one of the threads. For all Miller’s and deMause’s readers this ought to be a no-brainer; and I am appalled by the fact that, with the exception of psychohistorian Robert Godwin, both Miller’s and deMause’s fans are willfully ignorant of it. Here I cannot discuss the work of Bruce Bawer, Robert Spencer, Oriana Fallaci and others. Suffice it to say that current demographics of native Europeans are placing in great danger the child advocates’ cause and what deMause calls “helping mode” families. This is because, like Mackler himself, many helping parents are refusing to have kids in the Western world. To boot, the European Muslims are breeding profusely, and they crave to impose Sharia Law in their adopted countries once they reach numerical majority. Take a look at the grim stats in Mark Steyn’s America Alone. As stipulated in the Koran, Sharia law means treating women and children as they are being treated in theocratic nations such as Saudi Arabia or Iran. Besides Steyn’s, Bawer’s While Europe Slept is must reading to see my point. Bawer, a gay author who escaped the U.S. and fundamentalist Christianity only found far, far more abuse on women, children and homosexuals in Muslim enclaves, thereby demonstrating the reality of what deMause calls “psychoclasses”: some cultures are still more pathological than our culture.

The importance of this subject is paramount. But in his forum Mackler never got it, and in one of his web essays Mackler even blamed, to a certain extent, his country for the 9/11 Islamic attacks on New York. “How was it possible that I, who am not an American, felt more outraged about it than this New Yorker?”, I thought. But in the forum this “helping mode” man who refuses to have even a single kid thought I was some sort of islamophobic bigot. “Why pick on Muslims?” I was told, as if being concerned about how Islam treats women and children was an irrational phobia. I thought that after replying to his criticism by posting statistics of genital mutilation of millions of pubescent girls in the Muslim world, especially in sub-Saharan Africa, Dan would have second thoughts. But he continued to be soft on such practices.

By then I had posted in another threads of Mackler’s forum that I felt hate about the barbarous childrearing practices in ancient Tibet. It struck me that, although Dan said favorable things about my passion, he never shared an iota of my hate toward the perpetrators. Gradually, but unmistakably, every new thread and discussion in Dan’s forum revealed the gulf between two very distinct frames of mind. Dan is such a gentleman that it may be worth mentioning that Dennis Rodie complains that Mackler refuses to confront abusive parents in his therapy office.

Then it came the issue that I am a “total autobiographer” who has devoted his adult life writing about the pains that my parents inflicted on me and how, thanks to my enlightened witness Alice Miller I could heal the wounds. (Dan’s writings on the other hand could never be “witness” since, unlike Miller, he does not share his gut feelings about his parents.) In my writing I expose my brother’s vile negation of the abuse, and I sent emails of my exposé to my other siblings and some of my first-hand cousins. In his personal communications Mackler seemed to praise my courage somehow, but in his forum he labeled my autobiographical passion as “acting out.” How can a healthy speaking out be an unhealthy acting out, he did not explain. Moreover, Mackler seemed to contradict himself regarding the pivotal point in his essay on Miller. I am referring to his remarks on a phrase by Miller in the 1997 edition of The Drama of the Gifted Child where she called “hubris” further exploration of the self through autobiographical writing. Ironically, despite that phrase Miller has revealed infinitely much more about her tormented soul than Dan. This contradiction turned out to be the tip of the iceberg of a massive difference between Mackler and me. If Miller has taught us something it is that pure intellectual dissertation only represses the wounds we received as children. It goes without saying that every “enlightened” Miller fan, to use Dan’s pet word, speaks out publicly about his or her parents. But Dan Mackler never published specific anecdotes about his parents; and he has not explained us why.

At first I speculated in my silent self-conversations that he might depend economically from his parents. Did they pay Danny’s therapy office? I really don’t know. And how could I? Dan didn’t tell anybody anything really relevant about himself. He kept to himself to such extent that he even was reluctant to give his friend Rodie his New York address when Rodie self-published Dan’s essay on Miller (the former complained to me that he could not even forward copies of the book to Dan, the real author!). When several posters of his forum started to speak frankly about their sexual preferences, Dan did not say a peep about himself. We surmised he was gay only when he lost his temper after a provocative post of mine about “ugly males” kissing each other on the streets. The point is that, had I known that Dan was probably gay I wouldn’t have become so provocative.

To be honest I don’t know for sure if Dan is gay because he simply won’t tell. And why would Dan, like so many religionists, recommend celibacy as the way to spiritual “enlightenment”? What could have happened in his past sexual life to reach such extreme view? Also, why did he take issue with Miller because of her atheism and anti-therapy stance in a 2000 Amazon book review? Nobody knows. But the fact is that besides sex Mackler keeps most of his life to himself, especially what happened in his early youth. This strikes me not only as a contradiction for someone who picks on Miller for not exploring herself further through autobiographical writing, but a literary regression when compared to her. By definition, those who shy away from public confessions cannot be as integrated psychologically as they could if they dared to tell it all.

Why? In a long post a young Swede, Andreas Wirsén, explained it beautifully. He took issue with both Mackler and Rodie on this subject and I cannot match his words (see an edited version of Wirsen’s essay here).


I could easily expand this post to become as long as Mackler’s character-assassination essay on Miller. But I don’t have the time nor the motivation to do it. Presently I only want to find an editor for my book about a subject that is the most potent taboo in our society. Far much safer it’s to publish mere academic papers as Mackler did this very year with his psychology colleagues (books mentioned in Mackler’s website).

Since Mackler closed down his forum last month, perhaps out of his inner drive to censor all criticism about him, this article might fill a void. Though not overtly, Mackler and Rodie reject de facto psychohistory. These guys are not siding the child in a truly integrated way. They are actually siding the parents of the Third World and primitive cultures.

As I said, Rodie self-published Dan’s essay. He did it under the title Alice Miller: Discoveries and Contradictions, copyrighted in 2008 by Mackler with an ISBN (Stenungsund, Sweden: Annosidus Independent Press). In the preface of the book Rodie wrote:

“An Analysis of The Limits of Alice Miller” by Daniel Mackler is the first serious critique I’ve read on her. I admire Daniel’s courage to have written down the contradictions and shortcomings in her writings, without ever leaving the side of the child… Maybe in the future someone else will write “An Analysis of The Limits of Daniel Mackler”. That would be great.

Well my friend, I’ve just done that. And by not accepting psychohistory you guys have inadvertently left the side of the child. Everything Dan says in his terrible essay on Miller is irrelevant if compared to what millions of parents are doing in Third World countries, such as the one in which I was born.

Postscript of December 1, 2009:
A Prophet for a dying planet or an evil guru?

(revised in 2010):

A drawing that strongly reminds me the drawings of Silvano Arieti’s patients in the book Interpretation of Schizophrenia (note Dan’s name in it).

It’s about a year since I exchanged the last couple of e-mails with Mackler. In my soliloquies I have told myself hundreds of times how on Earth could I had taken someone like Mackler seriously. The guy is really singing songs from a locked ward. Just one example: During the present demographic Winter for the westerners in general and Caucasians in particular, homosexual Mackler recommends his hetero friends and acquaintances to have zero kids. That is: no more population replacement, only self-extinction, for the white people (i.e., the less abusive psycho-class in the entire world).

This Mackler stance is, of course, not only psycho. It is pure evil as explained by Scott Peck’s definition of evil.

If antinatalist ideologues like Mackler get their way in the next decades Europe will become Eurabia, conquered by the hordes of Muslims who are migrating into our soil. This means that child abuse will be infinitely worse in the future than in the present. It also means that Mackler, who fancies himself as “a Prophet for a dying planet” is part of the problem of child abuse, not part of its solution. Fortunately, Danny Mackler’s influence on society is about zilch.


Originally published at Blogspot.

A woman scolds Mackler

April 13, 2008

As will be shown in further entries, Daniel Mackler likes to censor criticism about him. In April 13, 2008 a woman, “Mimsy,” entered Mackler’s forum and took issue with Mackler’s essay “An Analysis of the Limits of Alice Miller.” Due to the fact that the same year Mackler closed his forum, I believe that Mimsy’s response to Mackler’s attack on Miller is worth reproducing here. Mimsy wrote:

New poster here.

Reading through I wanted to add some ideas that I didn’t see in other comments.

I mainly want to say that I think it’s totally reasonable of Alice Miller to be unresponsive to your [Daniel Mackler’s] essay and even dismissive.

Here is a woman who has spent much of her life swimming upstream, going against the flow, fighting against the going paradigm. Simultaneously, she is trying to heal her own wounds; she must feel awfully vulnerable much of the time. So here she is trying to stand up to constant criticism while at the same time carrying around all these unhealed wounds.

And here you come along and attack her, yet again. It’s true that you also say how much you have learned from her, how influential she has been for you. But your primary purpose with the essay seems to be to harp on how she’s NOT PERFECT.

Sorry for the all caps shouting, but I want to make a point that by writing your essay with this accusatory tone, you are practicing exactly the same sort of critical, judgmental behavior that you say is so damaging. Somehow you expect this wounded, damaged soul, Alice Miller, to be immune to your criticism; for her not to be sensitive to your attacks.

In my experience, people go deaf when they feel attacked. They don’t respond with an open-minded desire to learn. I imagine, given her life history and the fact that her theories are probably subject to constant criticism—at the same time that they are also praised by many—, she’s sensitive. Who wouldn’t be?

If I were you, I’d go back and try to read your essay with a mind to how it might feel to be Alice Miller and read your words.

Given the feelings that your essay might invoke in her, imagine her trying to remain detached and un-triggered by old wounds. No matter how successful you might be in remaining detached when people make comments, this doesn’t mean she should be able to be equally detached. She’s under constant fire, from all sides; she’s getting old, and probably worn out from the battle. Despite all her efforts, and all her insights, she hasn’t been able to truly get the healing she needs. She’s also a woman in a field where most of the heavy hitters have been men. Getting recognition and not being heard as “shrill” is a battle women have to face on top of everything else.

And you might think here about the fine line between detachment and dissociation, which you’ve mentioned elsewhere on other topics. I think there might be a little bit of a disconnect inside you about your ability to remain “dispassionate” and take on criticism, and recognizing that others (such as Alice Miller) may be still so painfully connected to the old wounds that they cannot be dispassionate.

Can you cut her some slack? Not be so hard on her? She’s done amazing things. No one is perfect. Life is a series of course corrections.

And perhaps you might even consider what parts of your own unhealed wounds you are projecting onto her in your demands for perfection. Are you insisting that she be the perfect mother you never had? I would perhaps question your motives in writing your essay as a “critique,” rather than simply saying “Here’s what I learned from Alice Miller’s amazing work. And here are some ways that I think maybe we could go even further.”

Can you imagine writing what you did, extending her theories, going beyond where she went without attacking her in the process? If you were able to do this, I think she would feel validated, appreciated. You would be building on what she did do, what she did accomplish, rather than focusing on the areas where she was human and failed to be perfect.

If you choose to re-read your essay with an eye toward greater compassion toward Alice Miller, you might notice that using “Limits” in the title started off on the wrong foot to get her to listen to you with an open mind. You might do some word counts to see how often you use language that most people would perceive as critical if they were on the receiving end. Try to put yourself in her shoes.

And I realize you didn’t write the essay as a direct letter to her, and maybe never thought about whether she’d ever read it. You were processing your own needs, which is cool.

I think it’d be an interesting, and revealing, exercise for you to try to say what you think about her in a non-judgmental way.


(After I congratulated her for her courage
in the forum she responded:)

Hi Cesar,

I just find it maddening that out of all the millions and billions of authors out there who write about “problem children” and ADD and ADHD and labeling this and that and blaming children for behaviors that are clearly results of how they were treated by their parents… out of all these screaming, howling voices blaming the least powerful people in the world for their own misery… one voice goes against the tide and says, “No. You’re wrong. The children are not to blame; it’s the parents who are at fault.” Finally, one lone voice in the wilderness, against the eons of shaming and humiliation! And not only does she speak out, but she manages to make herself heard! And have some influence! Hallelujah! And so I look around for people who are trying to put some of Alice Miller’s ideas to work, and I google around, and lo and behold, here’s a website that appears to be all about Alice Miller and her principles. Cool!

And then what do I see? Criticism. The same shit (forgive me) that poisoned our childhoods that we’re all struggling so mightily to overcome, is being used against the very woman who has tried so hard to raise our awareness on the subject in the first place.

Gah! It makes me want to tear my hair out at the injustice of it. And your analogy of Newton [Newton’s genius despite his character flaws] is good, that’s a useful way to think of it.

Anyway, I don’t want to be all ranty. I just have been reading a lot of blogs in the last year or so (had never really known about them before that) and am getting really, really tired of the whole idea that criticism is necessary and a good thing.

And of course this is my own personal soapbox because criticism is my very own personal pet demon that tortures me every minute of my damn life. So I have strong feelings about it, which others may not share.


(On April 23 of the same year another
woman replied in Mackler’s forum:)

Cesar wrote: “I totally lost interest to defend Dennis’ book from being removed in the Wikipedia article because I changed my mind.”

Daniel Mackler and Dennis Rodie have really got it in for Alice Miller—like a couple of baying hounds snapping at her heels—but your position is ambiguous, Cesar. I think you would be wise to distance yourself from the fruitcakes unequivocally.


(I responded [edited]):

Hi Danielle,

My position was indeed ambiguous in the past, but not in the present. What I said above is true: in my book Whispering Leaves, which I’d like to publish in Spain, there’s no critique of Alice Miller. She and deMause are my two intellectual and emotional guides. But I do criticize deMause for reasons that I already explained in Dennis’ forum ad nauseam, and in the Wikipedia talk page (Satanic Ritual Abuse and other deMausean lunacies, like believing in 9/11 conspiracy theories).

In the past I desperately needed communication with people on many subjects. You can see that I almost have 400 posts in this forum. Alas, one of the terrible realities I have come up in life is that you cannot compel anyone to make a jump to a superior psychoclass.

Most people are totally stagnated in their psychoclasses: be it an almost psychotic one, a neurotic, a cultish or living with blind spots due to cognitive resistances—like those child advocates who don’t want to look into the sane side of deMause’s data because they are postmodern cultural relativists. For Dan and Dennis child abuse in the Third World, like bringing here millions of homeless kids, is a subject they will never see with due guts; I mean, by taking tough political action. At the bottom line they are de facto siding Third World parents and they will continue to do so until they die.

It is not that I’ll distance myself from Dan and Dennis but that, using a metaphor I’ve used before in this forum, we as “amphibians” have reached the shore thanks to the leading efforts of the first mutant, Miller (psychogenically, most humans are still navigating their passage in the Ocean). Unfortunately, most Miller readers stay near the beach and are afraid to explore the inland (psychohistory).

So I don’t plan to distance myself from them. We are already distanced by space: I left the shore when I learnt about psychohistory back in 2006. They will remain there until they die. Here, way above inland, I shall deal only with those who have the nerve to reach this stage.

Note of 2 November 2011:

Daniel Mackler never responded to Mimsy, Danielle or me. And that was my last post in his forum.

Wirsén on Miller’s fans

December 18, 2007

Note of 2018: This post has been slightly edited:

That the author is secretly smuggling out and reworking, often lying about and numbing, their abusive emotional childhood is something Alice Miller tends to imply when dealing with works of art: a mode of thinking we as her readers easily slip into, isn’t it? That Kafka’s work is basically explainable as an artistic dramatization of a child’s insecurity about his parents’ true agenda, that the vampiric women of Baudelaire’s poems are in fact his emotionally unavailable and seductive mother… —this is still the only opening to Baudelaire’s work I can stand, the only way in which I can read his work with interest.

In this way, artistic work after Alice Miller demands a new openness and consciousness in the producer. We can’t only chew and chew the unworked-through emotions from our childhood and find creative ways of repackaging them, then call it Art. It’s a new game now. All bets are off… Which brings us to the subject of this post: C.T.’s criticism of Dennis Rodie’s novel The Curse of the Third Rate Artist. Discussing this opens the larger subject of the differences in worldview and even temperament between the two writers.

First I must clarify that I think César is a very promising and interesting writer who in his work is attempting to take on very large themes, which are important to me also. As mentioned briefly above, I believe artists working after Alice Miller have a new responsibility to be conscious. To this, I will add the meta-perspective on history developed by Lloyd deMause, which says that the whole of human history, in particular its destructive aspects, is based on childhood abuse.

“The history of childhood is a nightmare from which we have only recently begun to awaken…” begins his most important work. Miller says as much, but not as systematically and not as clearly as to the development that has, despite everything, taken place. Put in this perspective, the emotional abuses and the stressful life situation that Martin Maag, the narrator of Dennis’ novel, was put through was just as destructive as it was, but less destructive and less producing of the kind of howling-at-the-moon stressful psychosis and magical thinking that the childrearing of the European Middle Ages produced.

The criticism of your novel which César wrote in the context of polemics around the subject of Satanic Ritual Abuse elsewhere in this forum must be read in this context. Dennis Rodie’s novel does not have the same meta-perspective as C.T.’s has, something which Mr. Tort from his perspective must see as weaknesses. Since I, myself, am interested in the approach to writing and the expansion of consciousness of which his writing is the physical trace, created for communication that C.T. is developing, I share in part his criticism. Let me, to make writing this post quicker and easier, quote the relevant part from a review-letter I wrote recently to Dennis Rodie after having read his novel The Curse of the Third Rate Artist.

[Note of the Ed.: Wirsén’s review of Dennis’ unpublished novel, a novel that by the way I printed and leather-bounded for my personal library, can be read in Dennis’ own forum. Daniel Mackler✡ on the other hand never shared his huge autobiography with anyone.]

Allow me to get personal for a while. For what I intend, and for the kind of writing I myself aim to produce, a perspective the world needs, I think César is a pioneer developing a new sport. His successes are mine, and even his failures will be valuable lessons. The way he dares to be expressively angry is inspiring to me, though for my own part I am unsure of the outcome. Perhaps by temperament (which can’t be helped), perhaps by lack of courage (which, if true, must be conquered) I cannot be that clear about my anger. On the other hand not anger, but sensitivity, seems to be the guiding star of Dennis Rodie’s novel. For me, the jury is still out and César’s, as well as Dennis’ future developments as a human being and an artist will give me the information I need as to whether this is the road I want to pursue.

César’s five-book work Hojas Susurrantes expands from angry letter to mother, through anti-psychiatric tractate to brutally honest (so I’m told, have not taken it on yet) autobiography, over to family history, to the chronicle of the bloody past of his nation into an assessment of the human race and where we are now, which is an expansion in a new direction of deMausian thought: the quick eradication of those who abuse and hurt children, thus stopping humanity from evolving into the best we can be. How César brings this off in his last book will be very exciting indeed to take part off. That much I know. Whether or not and to what degree I will agree is another of those questions where the jury is still out. On the negative part, he might be steering dangerously close to a new motivation for genocide, a new ideological twist on the old Nazi game.

Daniel Mackler, in his writing, seems to imply that there is a lack of what he calls “enlightenment” in C.T.’s exposing of his emotional life and his family’s. That this is unhealthy exhibitionism, and an unfortunate development of a tortured soul, rather than the pearl the clam produces because a grain of sand is torturing, cutting and carving at, its vulnerable pink flesh. To stop the hurt.

I lean toward César’s side in this conflict. I, myself, have ambitions as a major writer and find that, after assimilating the thinking of Alice Miller, works of art that are not intensely personal and honest to be unrewarding. Is Mackler suggesting that we keep our stories to ourselves and sit around healed in a lonely buddhistic state, when instead we could let our stories go out and make changes in the consciousnesses of the real world? As I said, I lean toward Tort’s interpretation, but as always the jury is still out. And I believe even Mackler can’t avoid looking at Tort’s work, like he has before with the psychological case studies or autobiographies—the motivation for writing which he finds emotionally doubtful—; can’t avoid looking at them as at a beautiful car crash, provided as entertainment for the Buddha from others’ flesh and blood. The Buddha floats around in the suffering of the world with a distanced face.

Everything I have written above must be read in the perspective that I found reading the writings of Daniel Mackler, C.T. and Dennis Rodie as a revelation and breathing with the life of a new integrated consciousness, pulsating with a true emotionality, which I have before found in the work of Alice Miller and Lloyd deMause and to which, once I’d tasted it, nothing else compares. This is the reason I care strongly enough about them to read and reflect on them, as well as writing this text.