Ryan Landry, a.k.a. Son of Brock Landers, in his latest Wiermerica podcast makes the point we on the dissident right need to be thinking about children’s stories and juvenile literature. As we look to replace other corrupt institutions, this is probably among the most important, yet most neglected.

It’s importance is obvious when one takes their eyes off the latest outrage breaking on Twitter, and looks to the future. As Landry discusses, children’s fiction, like virtually all media, belongs to the progs, and so teaches prog narratives. “Trouble is coming,” he rightly says. We’re already in the midst of a civil war that has remained low-casualty only because one side is actively waging it. What happens when that changes?

It be nice when that time comes, Landry comments, for our children to have stories to use as a guide. Things that speak to Roman virtues like strength and honor, or else other classical European themes. Things that either in a realistic manner or by allegory demonstrate a healthy, adaptive way to make the choices they’ll face in life.

Basically, something better than the Churchianity narratives the elevate weakness at the cost of all else, and prog narratives that plant seeds for your children’s future degeneracy.

Myth and Belief

Landry’s main focus is stories of the past. This is the sort of tale that would naturally go directly to a kid’s sense of myth and belief. He notes there are lot of children’s stories that could be set during the Crusades, in a Greek city-state, or even in Bronze Age Europe. Where we come from, who we are—those things that inform right and wrong, and that’s what these stories would be about. We might call this foundational myth and belief.

But there’s another side of myth and belief, one that Landry either deliberately or not doesn’t mention: the future.

A people need not only a sense of where they have been, but where they are going to have a full sense of meaning in their lives. A past is crucial because it gives form, but a future is necessary because it gives purpose.

We might call this visionary myth and belief, and it’s a terrific place to find children’s stories, especially for boys.

Have Spaceship, Will #MAGA

Children’s stories set in the future can speak to all those virtues that Landry stresses. Traits like strength, excellence, honor, and courage will all be necessary to replace the present’s order. And so they are fine themes for a story set in a future dystopia that desperately deserves overthrowing.

But those same virtues would also be necessary to preserve a future one would actually want to live in. A future like the one maybe you yourself envisioned as a kid. Full of adventure on spaceships, sparkling cities, and robots that were anthropomorphic friends rather than drones bringing death from above. A place of order, family, and good people. The story’s drama might come when an outside threat or internal traitor seeks to ruin the beautiful world our protagonist’s ancestors worked so hard to build. Now it’s his turn to defend it.

So if you’re a writer and are one of those deplorable alt-righters, perhaps write something where a child hero fights for a society that actually means something. A community and people worthy of their efforts. It would show kids a positive vision of the future to work towards, and lessons about what is sometimes necessary in order to keep it.

Aren’t There Non-Pozzed Stories Already Out There?

Well, sure. There are classic tales of the past, such as the 1883 version of The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (reviewed recently here). For the future, there’s always Robert Heinlein’s catalog, or something like Ender’s Game.

The human preference for novelty, however, isn’t limited to fresh memes. We all crave the new thing, something that speaks to our moment. Young children are perhaps more open to old stories, but many of those tales came from a time when society was still decent enough that it didn’t teach boys to hate themselves, or White kids to hate their group. Many of those old stories, good and fun as they are, might not be able to adequately teach lessons necessary for a child to protect themselves against prog degeneracy.

And that’s why it’s important for all you alt-writers out there to pen those kids new stories of their tribe’s noble past, and its spectacular future.


First Post

In 1902, Theodor Herzl published Altneuland, or “The Old New Land” in English. The book was a utopian novel imagining a Jewish state:

The novel tells the story of Friedrich Löwenberg, a young Jewish Viennese intellectual, who, tired with European decadence, joins an Americanized Prussian aristocrat named Kingscourt as they retire to a remote Pacific island […] in 1902. Stopping in Jaffa on their way to the Pacific, they find Palestine a backward, destitute and sparsely populated land, as it appeared to Herzl on his visit in 1898.

Löwenberg and Kingscourt spend the following twenty years on the island, cut off from civilization. As they stop over in Palestine on their way back to Europe in 1923, they are astonished to discover a land drastically transformed. A Jewish state officially named the “New Society” has since risen as European Jews have rediscovered and re-inhabited their Altneuland, reclaiming their own destiny in the Land of Israel.

While essentially an ethnostate, Herzl’s Altneuland was, per Wikipedia, a technologically advanced, cosmopolitan society where Arabs enjoy full rights and its Jewish inhabitants generally followed European cultural customs.

Of course by mid-century, a Jewish homeland had been realized. Naturally, the ethnic and religious harmony Herzl fantasized about never came to be, but so what? The point of literature like Altneuland isn’t to accurately prognosticate the future. Rather, it is to popularize certain myths and beliefs—the predicates of any meaningful societal change.

Whatever else, the book certainly nailed the myth and belief part. And behold—Jews today have a country that serves their collective interests, protects them. Loves them.

Would that we all did.

Toward a New Old Land

For millions of us in the West today, our counties do not serve our interests. I would go so far to say that in most cases, they hate us. How else to explain a system that imports millions in violation of the written laws? That taxes money we could have spent on our own children, and uses it to support and buy the votes of our replacements?

Hence this blog and its imagined “New Alt Land”. “New” in the sense of being forward looking, and of having broken away from the unworthy, corrupt regime currently in place. “Alt” both in the sense of being an alternative to the self-inflicted decline we presently suffer in the West, and in the German translation of that world meaning “old”. “Old” here is an acknowledgement of our ancestors, and traditions—evolved behaviors and social arrangements based on understood truths about the human condition. Living in accordance with such conditions, a society would celebrate strength, beauty, excellence, and community, instead of the opposite of those things as we currently do.

The “alt” part also works as being AltRight, which rejects White self-hatred. It rejects that the only shared identity one can have must revolve around things that can be bought at a mall. It rejects that we have to live like this—which in Current Year America is as utopian a belief as one can have.

Exploring Myths and Beliefs

It took mainstream conservatives decades to figure out that culture is upstream of politics. That’s true, but it doesn’t go far enough. Because upstream of culture is the mind. The mind runs on myth and belief, the fire that gives it will sufficient to compel action in the real world, and to give those actions focus.

So here we’ll play around with ideas relating to myth and belief. In a way, I see this as reverse engineering problem: What would be necessary for us to believe in order to achieve a society worth raising our children in?

How would we have to see the world? See ourselves? What would its religion(s?) have to look like? What traditions would we have and why? What stories would we have to tell ourselves? What stories would we tell our children?