A fell cauld wind wis sauchin ower the muir as the bonny wumman gart her wey tae tryst her jo. For the necht wis Februar the fowerteen, an aabody kens at’s the necht for luve.
She wis winsome eneuch, tho the first blush o youth, it maun be said, was left ahent her a lang while syne. A body mecht hae speirit at himsel how comes a lass o sic natral attractions hidnae been wad this mony a lang year.
At last she reached the spot ablow an auld aik whaur she an her jo hiv met this necht mony mair years nor either of them wad care tae hink on. Her jo wis aaready there, a puckle fashit, ye mecht hink, wi the wye he wis stridin up an doon, his een flashin faniver he luikit up.
“Ah, here you are, at last,” he intoned, as the lass presented hersel.
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Featured Image: Restenneth Priory, Forfar, Angus, Scotland. Pic by Rod Fleming
The name of King Jan III Sobieski of Poland is one that every European should know and speak with pride.
In September 1683, the city of Vienna was near to collapse. For months, it had been under siege by the Islamic hordes of the Islamic Ottoman army. Every day now, starvation and surrender grew closer. The city had long since run out of horses and pets to eat and even rats were few and far between now.
Worse, the Viennese knew that other Europeans had been the instruments of their doom. Swiss Calvinists had begged the Turks to attack, so that they could sweep away Catholicism. It beggars belief that Christians could call down the hounds of Islamic hell on their fellow Europeans, but that they had, hoping, no doubt, to negotiate some deal, a reward for their treachery, that might spare them the scimitar or a lifetime of submission to the foul creed of Islam.
The city’s defenders, listening in its basements, could hear the scrape-scrap of pick and shovel as the enemy’s sappers undermined them. Soon they would plant another huge mine and blow up a section of the city’s curtain wall, breaching it and allowing the enemy in. Nobody in Vienna was under any illusion as to what would happen then: the men would be tortured and killed or enslaved, the women would be raped and killed or enslaved and the children slaughtered. The behaviour of triumphant Islamic armies was well known.
Today, the Twelfth of September, was the last. The government of the city knew it. The people knew it and worse, the enemy knew it. They were ready: their final attack was to come on the twelfth of the month. There was nothing left. Vienna would fall. Without a miracle, Vienna must fall, and with it, Europe.
Not for the French the quaint Anglo-Saxon habit of neighbouring towns staggering their half-days—or even taking half-days in the first place.
On Monday, the whole of France is as dead as that chap they poisoned on St Helena. You know the one. In fact, I think he was responsible for it. And of course, the reason is quite fair; all the shops are open on Saturday so that the people who don’t work in shops can do their shopping, and why should the commercants and their staff not enjoy a proper two-day weekend?
“No,” I cried, and summoned up the best of my then limited French, “Cas d’urgence!”
But this made no impression on the battle-axe, who shook her head again, pointed to her watch and mouthed “Quattors heures et demi.” Whatever my emergency was, it would h
ave to wait another 150 minutes.
Aghast as she began to turn away again, and now completely at a loss for words, I was once again reminded of the sheer brilliance of my wife in situations like this. Knowing that she could not hope to plead her case in French, she had slipped over to the car, unstrapped Calum, and now appeared with him in her arms; when she knew she had the dame’s attention, she lowered the towel wrapped around him to show the lad’s bare bottom, and just said one of the few French words she knew by heart, because she needed it so often. “Couches!”
One thing the guidebooks never bother to tell you about France is also one of the most important of all that you should know. In fact this piece of information is so important that my imparting it to you, as I am about to do, is worth the price of the book of all this. So perhaps, if you’ve borrowed this from a friend, you should skip to the next chapter right now. (I jest.)
So what is this invaluable knowledge that no-one should travel in France without first having assimilated? Just this:
Everything Shuts At Twelve. For Two Hours. At Least.
That’s it. Outside of the major metropolitan cities like Paris and Lyon, and maybe even Marseilles these days, if you ain’t got whatever it is you were looking for by the time the midi rings, you can forget getting it until two o’clock at the earliest.
Believe me, you will not be in France long before you realise how much this immutable chronology affects life.
Christianity has pagan origins. This has been known for hundreds of years and is easily proven.
The pagan origins of Christianity and for that matter Judaism and even Islam have fascinated me for many years.
What does ‘pagan’ mean?
The term pagan comes from ‘paganes’, a Latin word meaning country person, or in other words, not a city sophisticate. It was coined by the Romans and curiously, later became attached to the principal Graeco-Roman cults, of the Olympian gods and goddesses, as well as others.
The irony is that Christianity itself has pagan origins and we’ll be discussing them. This video is a basic taster but there will be many more.
The origins of Christianity lie far back in time, even before civilisation first appeared in Mesopotamia in the fourth millennium BC. Naturally, our first recordings are from after that, because previous cultures did not write and so their mythologies were oral traditions. But the earliest religious mythology can be traced forward to Jesus, directly.
The story of how we evolved what became the most successful religion ever, still dominant today, is fascinating. Christianity is fundamental to Western culture and remains powerful within it. That culture has been responsible for the greatest triumphs of humanity in the sciences, the arts, philosophy and economics. No other culture has even come close.
In an era where this culture, the most successful we have ever invented, is under constant attack, we should re-examine its roots. When we do we will find a great. all encompassing universality.
The fact that Christianity has pagan origins should neither come as a surprise nor should it be seen as a challenge to either Christianity or the cultures informed by it. While they might not be perfect, these cultures, which originated in Europe and were developed by European men, remain the most seminal and power ever to have existed; and at their heart is the Goddess, she who both gives and takes life and who begat Jesus Christ himself.
The Philippines is steeped in folklore and mythology. The very air seems supernatural at times and even today, Filipinos firmly believe in the supernatural creatures which also populate their country. Best known of these are Aswangs and Engkantos.
Many of these beliefs certainly date from the pre-colonial period and before the establishment of Catholicism as the dominant religion. Prior to this, the Philippines was not a unitary polity, but was made up of many small kingdoms and tribal areas. These all seem to have believed in a somewhat similar form of Animism but were all brought together under one faith and one colonial rule, by the Spanish.
Manila is huge. Apart from Manila itself, the conurbation of Metro Manila includes other cities that would themselves be enormous by any other measure: Makati, Pasig, Quezon, Cavite, and others. So transport is a major part of Manila life. But this is Asia, and unlike Europe, there is no organised public transport. There are no service buses, no trams or metro systems oganised by local government. Everything is run privately, and the sheer amount of private transport provision is staggering.
Given that I have not yet see anyone carrying a passenger on his shoulders, and horse-and-cart solutions are reserved for the tourist area of Intramuros, the old part of Manila, the most basic, though not always the cheapest, means of transport is the gloriously named ‘pedicab’. This is a bicycle with a side-car.
The main problem with this solution, leaving aside the thorny moral issue of whether it can be right for a 14-stone Scotsman and an admittedly much lighter Filipina to be push-biked around by a sweating 9-stone Pinoy, is the complete lack of suspension on these contraptions. Since the roads in Manila resemble the Somme after a barrage, this means a bone-jarring ride that risks lumbar impaction.
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My dear sister, it is some years since last I heard from you now. I am worried, my dear. There you are, far away, outside the loving matriarchy, where you would be safe and never oppressed. I don’t even know if you receive my messages, but again, as I do every year at this time, I write to you, womyn to womyn.
Today, things are very different from what you had become used to in the years BM (Before Matriarchy). You were used to the not-womyn roaming freely and oppressing womyn at every turn. You were used to them having the vote and a political voice. But the problem was that allowing them a political voice also allowed them to exercise their masculinity and through that their violence. Society could not progress as long as we allowed not-womyn to influence it.
To combat this, it became necessary to strip the not-womyn of executive power and to replace them with womyn. This was always the purpose of the Feminist movement, following the words of the Great Prophet Karl Marx (PBUH) and his Holy Priestess Gloria Steinem.
Hello. From today readers will see big changes in Rod Fleming’s World. Up till now it has been a fairly disorganised collection of essays on subjects I find interesting, or did at the time. From now on it will be more focussed.
Although the URL will not be changed, the title of the site will now be Rod Fleming’s Men’s World. This reflects a change of perspective rather than philosophy.
A brief history of Rod Fleming’s Men’s World
Rod Fleming’s World began ten years ago now as a travel site, initially discussing life in France, though it included other areas, including religion, politics, and sex and gender. This last has been the subject of many articles. However there is a need for a more definite focus, because the War on Men is gathering pace. Across the Media, men are being silenced, shut down, their presence disappeared — all the usual tricks of the Constructionist Left, which today has adopted feminism as its weapon of choice.
Rod Fleming’s Men’s World supports free speech, individualism, courage and masculinity.
Sun, sky, skin, swimsuits. Highly recommended.
Men and their interests
Rod Fleming’s Men’s World supports men and their interests. We support young men who are trying to find their way in a world run by feminists who detest them. We support women who actually are women, born female or otherwise, which obviously does not include feminists. We will feature them on a regular basis, I hope you enjoy. Some of the imagery may be reserved behind a paywall, because it’s too hot. The site will be more of a magazine rather than occupying a specialist niche, but its focus will be men’s interests and their rights.
Rod Fleming’s Men’s World will have articles on motorcycling, photography, yachts and sailing, cars, DIY, music, guitars, films, books and obviously, sex. After all, what man is not interested in that!
There will be articles on politics, religion, the supernatural, fantasy worlds and history. The last in particular is being ruthlessly revised by the Left to exclude or vilify men.
Rod Fleming’s Men’s World will cover Art too, because of the attack on Western art being mounted by feminists and also because men like art too; it is not solely a feminine interest. And of course, most artists throughout history have been men. There is a correlation between the colonisation of the art world by women and its descent into meaningless piffle. A sophisticated man needs to be able to see through that and appreciate real quality. We will help.
Hot hot hot
Rod Fleming’s Men’s World completely supports HSTS transsexuals, because they’re nice, they deserve it and they’re hot. We deplore the activities of masculine male Autogynephilic transvestites and their assault on both women and true transsexuals. Despite a decade of being attacked and stabbed in the back by he-men pretending to be women, Rod Fleming’s Men’s World will not back down. You can put a narcissistic freak in an Admiral suit and call him she, but he’s still a man.
If you would like to help by contributing articles or ideas, please contact me via the form below.
Aghast as she began to turn away again, and now completely at a loss for words, I was once again reminded of the sheer brilliance of my wife in situations like this. Knowing that she could not hope to plead her case in French, she had slipped over to the car, unstrapped Calum, and now appeared with him in her arms; when she knew she had the dame’s attention, she lowered the towel wrapped around him to show the lad’s bare bottom, and just said one of the few French words she knew by heart, because she needed it so often. “Couches!”
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