As our nations are transformed by "modernity", "tolerance", "globalism", "diversity" and a never-ending assortment of buzz-words standing in for the same, there is an express and unmistakable effort to prevent anyone from finding an exit.
We see this in the political sphere, with the the portrayal of alternatives as terribly undesirable or unfeasible; we also see a distinct effort to glamorize the status quo (i.e. promote things like "modernity", "tolerance", "globalism" and "diversity"), while concealing what we are missing under it. But, for those who want a refresher of what otherwise could be, or are perhaps just overwhelmed by the destruction and decay of whatever is considered "normal" in the current year, I cannot stress enough: visit the Baltic. There, you just might see something that resembles a civilization - just as long as you get there before tourists pee on it.
In the Baltic, you might find bars where the last song of the night is patriotic, and everyone in the establishment stops what they are doing to sing together, and even hold hands. People also engage one another even if they are strangers - and no, I do not mean where 100 guys try to talk to the same, twenty-something female, nor do I mean the sort of engagement where that same female stops being ice cold and lights up as her ideal man appears, initiating the same pump-and-dump routine she had with another guy the other week; I mean genuine, interesting engagement for the soul, the sort of thing that restores one's belief in community.
The level of trust you might see is also something completely incomprehensible for a Westerner. For example, I once met a girl who spent about a minute talking to me before excusing herself for the bathroom, asking me to watch her purse which she had placed down on the seat next to me. Similarly, friends of mine never locked their doors. Incidentally, I once met an American in the Baltic who told me he had grown tired of all the crime in Chicago and had no intention of returning ever again. Whether his vision of not returning was possible fell on the shoulders of his girlfriend, who I believe was Estonian. But it all ties into the same theme: this is a better place.
While all of these moments were memorable, the crowning moment occurred once I had crossed the Estonian border and was near the lake district of Alūksne, in Latvia. I was at a going-away party. For most of the night, music had been blaring from a computer that was hooked up to a television. The songs were typical: imported American rap and pop, things that I had grown to abhor when hoping to experience something different. Now that the music was off, though, a young man came over and asked in Latvian if he could make a request. I explained that I could not understand, so he simply took the keyboard and typed something. Up popped a video from some kind of filmed cultural event, with people clapping and carrying flowers. In broken English, the young man started explaining to me that he had been there as a choirboy, and the group was about to perform a special musical number. I remember wondering what the other people in the room would think of what he had put on. I certainly did not have the heart to hear people making fun of it just because it was native culture and not linked to things glorifying New York, or Chicago, for that matter.
The young man quickly tried to explain how much the song meant to Latvians and, for him, it was an unforgettably breathtaking moment to have taken part in such a cultural event. Soon, the music began to escalate and he became really quiet. On the television screen, I saw something like this:
There were tears in his eyes. The others in the room had stopped talking. Men and women - in their twenties alike - had started singing along and to each other. Glasses were raised. I could feel the energy in the room and the pride. I started to tear too, as I took everything in. I was wondering why we Westerners could not have such beautiful cultural moments like that. Instead, we get Beyonce's ass-shaking, look-at-me culture and endless Afro-glorification at the Super Bowl - that is our big "culture moment", is it not? In any case, at that moment there in Latvia, nobody in the West had something more to envy. Nobody. It did not matter how rich they were, or how much coolness they could emulate.
I did not know what the song was about, even if I suspected that it had to do with Latvia's sovereignty. But I know now. I also know songs of its kind are being purged from YouTube under the platform's new Community Guidelines. Here is a another translation of the lyrics, in case you missed the "problem" with the them (hint: look for the bold text):
Furthermore, removing such videos would lead to a tremendous red-pilling for anyone who is Latvian and seeks them out, only to come across the infamously ugly "you sought naughtly content" box.
Which, in its context, basically means: "sorry, you cannot mention your people overcoming slaughter and oppression anymore if it means somewhere someone might then object to Brussels' overlordship and drowning your country in a sea of infinite migrants."
That said, and now that the video is safely parked at Bitchute, perhaps it would actually be advantageous to remind YouTube of its policy, and see if the mindless drones can be tricked into enforcing it against Saule, Pērkons, Daugava.
If their weapon is to ban us, why not fight fire with fire?
Here's to Latvia's awakening. Dievs, svētī Latviju! (God bless Latvia).
We see this in the political sphere, with the the portrayal of alternatives as terribly undesirable or unfeasible; we also see a distinct effort to glamorize the status quo (i.e. promote things like "modernity", "tolerance", "globalism" and "diversity"), while concealing what we are missing under it. But, for those who want a refresher of what otherwise could be, or are perhaps just overwhelmed by the destruction and decay of whatever is considered "normal" in the current year, I cannot stress enough: visit the Baltic. There, you just might see something that resembles a civilization - just as long as you get there before tourists pee on it.
In the Baltic, you might find bars where the last song of the night is patriotic, and everyone in the establishment stops what they are doing to sing together, and even hold hands. People also engage one another even if they are strangers - and no, I do not mean where 100 guys try to talk to the same, twenty-something female, nor do I mean the sort of engagement where that same female stops being ice cold and lights up as her ideal man appears, initiating the same pump-and-dump routine she had with another guy the other week; I mean genuine, interesting engagement for the soul, the sort of thing that restores one's belief in community.
The level of trust you might see is also something completely incomprehensible for a Westerner. For example, I once met a girl who spent about a minute talking to me before excusing herself for the bathroom, asking me to watch her purse which she had placed down on the seat next to me. Similarly, friends of mine never locked their doors. Incidentally, I once met an American in the Baltic who told me he had grown tired of all the crime in Chicago and had no intention of returning ever again. Whether his vision of not returning was possible fell on the shoulders of his girlfriend, who I believe was Estonian. But it all ties into the same theme: this is a better place.
While all of these moments were memorable, the crowning moment occurred once I had crossed the Estonian border and was near the lake district of Alūksne, in Latvia. I was at a going-away party. For most of the night, music had been blaring from a computer that was hooked up to a television. The songs were typical: imported American rap and pop, things that I had grown to abhor when hoping to experience something different. Now that the music was off, though, a young man came over and asked in Latvian if he could make a request. I explained that I could not understand, so he simply took the keyboard and typed something. Up popped a video from some kind of filmed cultural event, with people clapping and carrying flowers. In broken English, the young man started explaining to me that he had been there as a choirboy, and the group was about to perform a special musical number. I remember wondering what the other people in the room would think of what he had put on. I certainly did not have the heart to hear people making fun of it just because it was native culture and not linked to things glorifying New York, or Chicago, for that matter.
The young man quickly tried to explain how much the song meant to Latvians and, for him, it was an unforgettably breathtaking moment to have taken part in such a cultural event. Soon, the music began to escalate and he became really quiet. On the television screen, I saw something like this:
There were tears in his eyes. The others in the room had stopped talking. Men and women - in their twenties alike - had started singing along and to each other. Glasses were raised. I could feel the energy in the room and the pride. I started to tear too, as I took everything in. I was wondering why we Westerners could not have such beautiful cultural moments like that. Instead, we get Beyonce's ass-shaking, look-at-me culture and endless Afro-glorification at the Super Bowl - that is our big "culture moment", is it not? In any case, at that moment there in Latvia, nobody in the West had something more to envy. Nobody. It did not matter how rich they were, or how much coolness they could emulate.
I did not know what the song was about, even if I suspected that it had to do with Latvia's sovereignty. But I know now. I also know songs of its kind are being purged from YouTube under the platform's new Community Guidelines. Here is a another translation of the lyrics, in case you missed the "problem" with the them (hint: look for the bold text):
Saule, Pērkons, Daugava
(Sun, Thunder, the Daugava River)
The Sun goddess (Saule) placed Latvia
where the ends of the Earth meet -
the white sea and green land!
Latvia had the key to her gates.
Latvia had the key to her gates,
and guarded the river Daugava.
Foreign folk/strangers came and broke the gates
the key fell into the sea.
The thunder god (Perkun/Pērkons/probably Thor) hurled a blue lightning bolt
He took back the key from the devils.
Latvia locked up death alive.
The white sea, the green land!
Latvia locked up death alive.
The white sea, the green land!
The Sun goddess placed Latvia
by the edge of the white sea.
Winds stirred up the sand -
what can Latvia's children drink?
The water of life, the water of death
flowed together in the Daugava.
I dip my fingertip into the water
and feel both in my soul.
The water of life, the water of death.
We feel both in our souls!
The Sun goddess is our Mother.
Daugava - nursemaid of our pain.
The thunder god, who strikes the devils,
He is our Father!
The Sun goddess is our Mother.
Daugava - the nursemaid of our pain.
The thunder god, who strikes the devils,
he is our Father!
Saule, Pērkons, Daugava
Saule Latvi sēdināja
Tur, kur gali satiekas
Balta jūra, zaļa zeme
Latvei vārtu atslēdziņa.
Latvei vārtu atslēdziņa,
Daugaviņas sargātāja.
Sveši ļaudis vārtus lauza
Jūrā krita atslēdziņa.
Zilzibeņu Pērkons spēra,
Velniem ņēma atslēdziņu.
Nāvi, dzīvi Latve slēdza,
Baltu jūru, zaļu zemi.
Nāvi, dzīvi Latve slēdza,
Baltu jūru, zaļu zemi.
Saule Latvi sēdināja
Baltas jūras maliņā
Vēji smiltis putināja
Ko lai dzēra latvju bērni?
Saule lika Dieviņami,
Lai tas raka Daugaviņu.
Zvēri raka, Dieviņš lēja
No mākoņa dzīvūdeni.
Dzīves ūdens, nāves ūdens
Daugavā satecēja.
Es pamērcu pirksta galu
Abus jūtu dvēselē.
Nāves ūdens, dzīves ūdens
Abus jūtu dvēselē.
Saule mūsu māte,
Daugav' – sāpju aukle.
Pērkons velna spērējs
Tas mūsu tēvs.
Perhaps YouTube will realize that it is wise not to purge videos for Saule, Pērkons, Daugava; after all, the song's lyrics do recall painful memories of Latvia's foreign occupation, which can stand in the way of its cooperation with a pro-European/anti-EU/Visegrad bloc force (see also: Visegrád Post), especially if Russia is involved. In that way, the past keeps us divided against one another instead of united against globalism and the mechanisms that are destroying us all.(Sun, Thunder, the Daugava River)
The Sun goddess (Saule) placed Latvia
where the ends of the Earth meet -
the white sea and green land!
Latvia had the key to her gates.
Latvia had the key to her gates,
and guarded the river Daugava.
Foreign folk/strangers came and broke the gates
the key fell into the sea.
The thunder god (Perkun/Pērkons/probably Thor) hurled a blue lightning bolt
He took back the key from the devils.
Latvia locked up death alive.
The white sea, the green land!
Latvia locked up death alive.
The white sea, the green land!
The Sun goddess placed Latvia
by the edge of the white sea.
Winds stirred up the sand -
what can Latvia's children drink?
The water of life, the water of death
flowed together in the Daugava.
I dip my fingertip into the water
and feel both in my soul.
The water of life, the water of death.
We feel both in our souls!
The Sun goddess is our Mother.
Daugava - nursemaid of our pain.
The thunder god, who strikes the devils,
He is our Father!
The Sun goddess is our Mother.
Daugava - the nursemaid of our pain.
The thunder god, who strikes the devils,
he is our Father!
Saule, Pērkons, Daugava
Saule Latvi sēdināja
Tur, kur gali satiekas
Balta jūra, zaļa zeme
Latvei vārtu atslēdziņa.
Latvei vārtu atslēdziņa,
Daugaviņas sargātāja.
Sveši ļaudis vārtus lauza
Jūrā krita atslēdziņa.
Zilzibeņu Pērkons spēra,
Velniem ņēma atslēdziņu.
Nāvi, dzīvi Latve slēdza,
Baltu jūru, zaļu zemi.
Nāvi, dzīvi Latve slēdza,
Baltu jūru, zaļu zemi.
Saule Latvi sēdināja
Baltas jūras maliņā
Vēji smiltis putināja
Ko lai dzēra latvju bērni?
Saule lika Dieviņami,
Lai tas raka Daugaviņu.
Zvēri raka, Dieviņš lēja
No mākoņa dzīvūdeni.
Dzīves ūdens, nāves ūdens
Daugavā satecēja.
Es pamērcu pirksta galu
Abus jūtu dvēselē.
Nāves ūdens, dzīves ūdens
Abus jūtu dvēselē.
Saule mūsu māte,
Daugav' – sāpju aukle.
Pērkons velna spērējs
Tas mūsu tēvs.
Furthermore, removing such videos would lead to a tremendous red-pilling for anyone who is Latvian and seeks them out, only to come across the infamously ugly "you sought naughtly content" box.
Which, in its context, basically means: "sorry, you cannot mention your people overcoming slaughter and oppression anymore if it means somewhere someone might then object to Brussels' overlordship and drowning your country in a sea of infinite migrants."
That said, and now that the video is safely parked at Bitchute, perhaps it would actually be advantageous to remind YouTube of its policy, and see if the mindless drones can be tricked into enforcing it against Saule, Pērkons, Daugava.
If their weapon is to ban us, why not fight fire with fire?
Here's to Latvia's awakening. Dievs, svētī Latviju! (God bless Latvia).
