Friday, May 23, 2008


It has been said by some that they would not walk across the street to hear live music, but they would gladly walk a mile out of their way to avoid live music. I’m even worse. I’d like to systematically exterminate the jazz musicians of the world.
I know a lot of negrophiles will bristle at such a sweeping condemnation.
Put simply, jazz has its roots in Afro-Cuban music—the kind where they monotonously beat on tom-toms, hopped-up on hallucinogens and whatnot, inviting possession at the behest of a witchdoctor (see, for instance, the rites of the Orisha of the Yoruba in Haiti, Dervish sects or the Macumba). As Evola says, it is “primitive and collective in character” (164).
See a video of an Orisha dance:

Move over Beethoven:

The mindless drug use associated with jazz is another one of its perks as a musical genre: “The frequent use of drugs both by performers of this music and by the enraptured young people is also significant, causing a true, frenetic “crowd mentality,” as in beat or hippie sessions in California involving tens of thousands of both sexes” (164).
Here’s the product of such behavior:

Where I differ with Evola is that he praises the spiritual background of Jazz’s roots and argues that the differentiated man can use Jazz as a sort of palliative for dealing with the modern epoch. The only thing I can use Jazz for is to torture myself.


Blogger Mr. Obsidian said...

While I don't really care for any of the "music" you posted, I will say that the Miles Davis bit is somewhat more interesting than the first two videos (both of which rendered me hostile in a frenetic, road-rage manner of sorts). But surely, Noel, all cultures are equal! The feckless, sporadic drumming from the second video is obviously and objectively no different from say, Mendelssohn's Opus 30, No. 6.

What's that? I should report to the "Spaßofen" immediately? Well, alright...

May 23, 2008 at 8:31 PM  
Blogger Noel said...

FYI, those furnaces were harmless crematoriums. The camps were a place of much Belustigung...for the guards, at least.

May 24, 2008 at 2:55 PM  
Blogger Mr. Obsidian said...

Of course!

Many a placid weekend was spent playing "bayonet baby toss" -- a precursor to the modern (and tamer) game of horseshoes.

May 24, 2008 at 4:38 PM  
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