The Tropical Paradise

[Striped_Pyjama_Boy_Nietzschean]

What are the tropics?

There's variety of life in the tropics found nowhere else, and if we hold to the presently fashionable ideas about the universe, the tropics are the one volcano of life in a dead waste land.

Life can become itself in the tropics, without the pressure of a cold winter. The tropics do not only release you from winter. There one can find bliss. See the recent examples of Houellebecq's novel Plateforme, Alex Garland's The Beach (with accompanying Danny Boyle film) and BAM. While la littérature française has the search for a tropical paradise as a perennial theme.

But I do not believe that what these books search for is only a luxurious country of freedom. Instead, I say, they seek the Grail.

Scholars have shown how Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness is really an instance of the Grail legend. Does Kurtz not find youth in his moral liberty?

The Grail being a font of life is a country of freedom.

When we look at attaining eternal life in this world, we think of life extension from Silicon Valley; but even if the brain's vitality were refreshed, would the mind's be? A collection of geriatrics in youthful bodies watching boomer TV forever.

Better to be "exterminate all the brutes" Kurtz and live in freedom forever.

Can the Grail be found in the mind, not only on earth? To have passed through all, to have experienced all, and yet die an innocent in luxurious freedom.

[Nigel Carlsbad]

In Herman Melville’s Typee Mr. Melville delineates the Edenic lifestyle of the Typee cannibals whom can spend most of their days in blissful leisure. From similar accounts like this the legend of the topic islands of the pacific have represented to Western Man Greek life without the need to sustain oneself on the labor of one’s inferiors. A return back to the garden and to be freed from toil. 

But in the depth of this paradise we find man whom resembles Adam little. For he is still fallen in a way. The Typee cannibals were a bellicose group who were feared for their martial prowess among the other islanders on the island. Even without need for war in paradise Polynesian man still sought it out. It seems that the drive to violence is man’s most universal trait.

I ask whether the mere eating of human flesh so very far exceeds in barbarity that custom which only a few years since was practised in enlightened England:—a convicted traitor, perhaps a man found guilty of honesty, patriotism, and suchlike heinous crimes, had his head lopped off with a huge axe, his bowels dragged out and thrown into a fire; while his body, carved into four quarters, was with his head exposed upon pikes, and permitted to rot and fester among the public haunts of men! The fiend-like skill we display in the invention of all manner of death-dealing engines, the vindictiveness with which we carry on our wars, and the misery and desolation that follow in their train, are enough of themselves to distinguish the White civilized man as the most ferocious animal on the face of the earth.

This intrigues a certain inquiry. Is the Christian ideal of paradise truly correct? Is paradise truly to live without work alone? There exists a similar paradise to the type Polynesian man lived that he would have loved with equal ardor, Valhalla. Norse man dreamt of Valhalla, an afterlife that promised eternal glory until Ragnarök when they will march out of its many doors to fight in aid of Odin against the jötnar. In the tropics we see not Eden or the Christian ideal but rather Valhalla and the pagan ideal.

The White mans quest for the tropics are his quest for Valhalla, however contradictory it may seem. [Image: https://i1.sndcdn.com/artworks-kmiyeuuhZ...00x500.jpg]

[synesth]

This intrigues a certain inquiry. Is the Christian ideal of paradise truly correct?

Before Paradise stands an angel of fire. Heaven is the fruit of a life full of struggle. Perhaps not a barbaric, pointless struggle, a struggle for its own sake, but the christian life is a struggle. The modern church claiming it is nothing but "muh I'm saved from sin" misunderstands it completely.

Life needs struggle for survival, but what about death? Death is stillness. Death is rotting. Death is mold and yeast. The miracle of Christ is that beyond the life of struggle - that when you are literally dead and rotting - a life of peace and prosperity awaits.

[august]

"To Africa!" I said to myself. "The further the better."

Life can become itself in the tropics, without the pressure of a cold winter. The tropics do not only release you from winter. There one can find bliss.

Speaking of la littérature française and the search for a tropical paradise, I want to raise the Celinian perspective. Not quite that of bliss, but the opposite: indiscriminate disgust, pessimistic and consuming revulsion. Perhaps the anti-romantic. Whether or not it's correct is subject to one's personal view, but it could be an attempt to remain completely honest with oneself, no matter the costs. 

So the whole landscape was mine! I'd have all the time I needed, I thought, to study the surface and the depths of this leafy immensity, this ocean of red, of mottled yellow, of flamboyant hams and head cheeses, magnificent no doubt for people who love nature. I definitely didn't. The poetry of the tropics turned my stomach. The thought of all those vistas repeated on me like tuna fish. Say what you like, it will never be anything but a country for mosquitoes and panthers. And not for me.

It's fitting irony. Only Bardamu, being who he truly is, can leave everything he knew on a whim to start anew in a place that couldn't be more unlike that which he departs from -- the further the better -- only to find himself sickened by the lot of it all the same. 

But I do not believe that what these books search for is only a luxurious country of freedom. Instead, I say, they seek the Grail.

[...]

The Grail being a font of life is a country of freedom.

In the tropics, one "can find bliss." One can... but will he? What was Bardamu looking for? I don't see it as happiness. He's too smart for this. He wanted an escape -- yes, anyone who reads the book can pick up on that. But I like this idea of The Grail. Freedom. I think he finds it there in the tropics, even if he is not so obvious about telling us so:

Ah my mother's adages weren't about honesty. As I remembered opportunely, she used to say when burning old bandages: "Nothing purifies like fire!" A mother leaves you something for every turn of Fate. You just have to take your pick.

The time had come. [...] It happened after sundown. The flames rose impetuously. Wildly jabbering, the villagers gathered around the blaze. [...] Though drenched, it burned very thoroughly to the ground, merchandise and all ... No more accounts. The owls and leopards, toads and parrots must have been flabbergasted. It takes something to impress that crowd. Like war with us. Now the forest could come back and cover the wreckage with its thundering leaves.

The meaningless toils of everyday life, gone. Purified by fire, the forest can run its course once more; its trees are free to live again. Maybe this was a moment of bliss after all, however fleeting.

[Striped_Pyjama_Boy_Nietzschean]

This intrigues a certain inquiry. Is the Christian ideal of paradise truly correct? Is paradise truly to live without work alone? There exists a similar paradise to the type Polynesian man lived that he would have loved with equal ardor, Valhalla. Norse man dreamt of Valhalla, an afterlife that promised eternal glory until Ragnarök when they will march out of its many doors to fight

I do not yet see the possibility Nigel, of showing that achieving the tropics implies a Valhalla, nor has it been shown to be impossible.

The ice wastes of the North, although having fewer living beings than in the warmer parts of the planet's surface, nonetheless, are competitive for food and shelter, with nature and with other animals. I do not believe it has been established that competition there is less than in the tropics.

I am interested in measuring the different kinds of "pressures" life faces in varying environments.

[Striped_Pyjama_Boy_Nietzschean]

I want to raise the Celinian perspective.

Ah, yes, I should have remembered Céline. A most interesting example, as with Nigel's "tropical Valhalla" above.

Perhaps the anti-romantic.

Not to say that you imply the contrary, but I did not intend for the OP to be Romantic.

I like reading speculation, but the OP contains my scientific investigations of the subject. I wrote only what I can demonstrate.

My field of investigation is a little wider than for the natural sciences, as I am willing to examine historical evidence, ideal forms, experience, etc.

[Zed]

A sweltering humid and hot shit jungle - or this?

[Image: https://travelnunavut.ca/wp-content/uplo...medium.jpg]
[Image: https://th-thumbnailer.cdn-si-edu.com/gP...0x1126.jpg]
[Image: https://peakvisor.com/img/news/Nunavut.jpg]

[Handi]

A sweltering humid and hot shit jungle - or this?

Even a disgusting tranny is right twice a day. Imagine staring at this for the rest of your life. Ever wonder why people from this part of the world are genetically unable to notice bugs?

Being steppe-forged, Europeans instinctively build life support systems to adapt any environment to our needs; that said, the Greenhouse is basically an outdoor Longhouse that churns out nothing but retarded mammy worshippers over and over again. There's nothing particularly attractive about it as an environment beyond the absence of ${thing I don't like about civilization}. And there's probably a reason for that absence.

[Lohengrin]

Imagine staring at this for the rest of your life. Ever wonder why people from this part of the world are genetically unable to notice bugs?

Being steppe-forged, Europeans instinctively build life support systems to adapt any environment to our needs; that said, the Greenhouse is basically an outdoor Longhouse that churns out nothing but retarded mammy worshippers over and over again. There's nothing particularly attractive about it as an environment beyond the absence of ${thing I don't like about civilization}. And there's probably a reason for that absence.

To expand upon your apt comparison, the jungle has brought forth nought but the telluric races whom you all know of as Negroes, Dravidians, Melanesians, Mesoamericans, and so on.  Any race capable of higher, abstract reasoning exist beyond such environments, as though leaving the Platonic cave.  I suppose Negroes outside the Congo Rainforest hold a slight more intelligence than those inside, but that's comparing the quality of faeces, it's all shit anyhow.  The jungle is an environment of rampant chaos, and the White man seeks order, to conquer, tame.  Perhaps that may be the beauty of it, the difficulty of such an endeavour.  Malodorous, cacophonous, lurid, nauseating, it's not an environment selecting for anything sublime, the possible exception of felidae.  It sparks immediate revulsion to the Aryan who finds solace in the tranquillity of more serene environments; the steppe, tundra, plains, the ocean surface.  Sufficient struggle and passion still transpire, but with enough room so as to not be immediately snuffed out by the overwhelming chaotic nature from sustained living there.  No one sojourns in Brazil or Equatorial Africa for leisure, but they do the Caribbean and the Pacific.  Is there anything worth taming?

I ask of you, reader, if Africa or Brazil are ideals to strive towards.  Ideally, I would keep the tropics as nature reserves where wildlife remain unperturbed by Negridic or shitskin encroachment.  For a transient venture into the unknown, as Bardamu or Livingstone are privy to, I suppose there's no harm done.  You're still exercising an inherent drive towards struggle and freedom, but I advise not leaving without your pith helmet.

[BillyONare]

The real white man biome is like Germany to Sweden. Mountainous, humid, and cold, with dense pines and snow on Christmas. You’re a tranny if you don’t like Winter Wonderland and skiing.

[BillyONare]

The Sound of Music type pastoral land is up there as well.

[Flanny O’Neal]

“The point of this thread was to lionize the tropics, not a discussion on why the white man should live in a colder climate.”

But on that note: 

“In the lower classes the increasing proportion of poor whites and "crackers" are symptoms of lack of climatic adjustment. The whites in Georgia, the Bahamas, and above all the Barbadoes are excellent examples of the deleterious effects of residence outside the natural habitat of the Nordic race.”

“This blond race can exist outside of its native environment as land owning aristocrats who are not required to do manual labor in the fields under a blazing sun. As such an aristocracy it continues to exist under Italian skies, but as a field laborer the man of Nordic blood could not compete with his Alpine or Mediterranean rival.”

If he’s right on the first and second points up above and it’s labor under a foreign climate that has a deleterious effect on the Nordic race, then if they live without this toil does the environment matter anymore?

[august]

To be honest, I don't understand some of the immediate reactions and responses to the question that Striped poses. Unless I'm misinterpreting something, this sentence, in my mind, stood as the crux of his post: "The Grail being a font of life is a country of freedom." Lohengrin suggests, and I think that he is mostly correct in saying, that the European "seeks order, to conquer, tame." It sounds familiar to, for example, the following: "Life is at most basic, struggle for ownership of space." 

Setting the Tropics aside for just a moment, consider America. What is America? You hear shitlibs nowadays sometimes say, "America is an idea." To me, they are wrong on this, but not because of what they said, but rather because of what they left unsaid. There is perhaps no better example of the White man's struggle for ownership of space in modern times than both America and its forebear, Britain. It would seem that when America finally threw off the yoke of GB, she immediately emulated her mother country in pursuing her manifest destiny, her own desire for expansion, for ownership of space. But what happens when you go far enough westward that you find yourself standing on the shores of the Pacific with nothing left to "conquer" and nothing left to "tame"? You've taken everything that was for the taking, and everything is now owned space. You could go north... but that wouldn't be so fun. Or, maybe you could go south. I'm surprised America hasn't by now, but if it did, would we have it only go so far as to prevent exposure to the tropical airs that sit so nearby? Draw the hard line at Monterrey? 

This is why I referenced the story of Bardamu before. It's not the story of a country as a whole, but of a single man—like you or me—who has finally had enough of the suffocation caused by lack of space, that is, lack of freedom. As he tells us, he hated everything about Africa, but consider this: 

But in Celine’s book the main character, in his restless seeking in this trash world...he was looking for that hidden key, the true freedom into the expanse of open space that he could conquer. Where to find the frontier? There are many places, but path is not easy. In the nations, leisure from the slave state must be secured

What? Anyway...

I am willing to examine historical evidence, ideal forms, experience, etc.

This is not much of a direct comparison, as it is not exactly an experience of the "tropics". Nonetheless, Goethe's experience in Italy seems like maybe a useful example for part of what I am trying to convey. He writes of the country of the Neapolitan peoples: 

Naples is a paradise: in it everyone lives in a sort of intoxicated self-forgetfulness. It is even so with me; I scarcely know myself—I seem quite an altered man.

---

All tends to this one conclusion: that a highly-favored land, which furnishes in abundance the chief necessaries of existence, produces men also of a happy disposition, who, without trouble or anxiety, trust tomorrow to bring them what today has been wanting, and consequently live on in a lighthearted careless sort of life. Momentary gratification, moderate enjoyments, a passing sorrow, and a cheerful resignation!

---

If in Rome one can readily set oneself to study, here one can do nothing but live. You forget yourself and the world; and to me it is a strange feeling to go about with people who think of nothing but enjoying themselves.

To Northern Italians, these people would be seen as lazzaroni. There are wigger nationalists here that will say about the Southern European peoples: "Well, those characteristics sound a lot like those of niggers." Before any of them do, ask yourself whether the venerated and sanctified American trailer park trash live any differently. I will remind you that Goethe's purpose for his Italian travels was not to live, or become, like the people he came across, but to learn and develop himself, his own mind, by experiencing the places which were so foreign from his own home. I should add, it has also been said: "Animals walk around in a state of permanent religious intoxication. This is the natural condition of the mind and intellect, the moment-to-moment perception, of man as well." 

[Image: https://i.imgur.com/0FUikba.jpg]

[Image: https://i.imgur.com/XegpWrC.jpg]

"possessed with the feeling of the infinity of space. So to dream is really worth all trouble."

[Striped_Pyjama_Boy_Nietzschean]

Being steppe-forged, Europeans instinctively build life support systems to adapt any environment to our needs;

It's good that someone engaged with the geography rather than stating travel preferences.

I don't accept that Europeans are "steppe-forged" in the sense you mean. Even if Europeans came from the steppe in the distant past, that does not mean that they are specially adapted to that environment at the expense of all others. I assume you mean that while Europeans can live anywhere, due to hardiness gained through genesis on the steppe, that is not necessarily preferable. But I will reply to that properly in a different post.

the Greenhouse is basically an outdoor Longhouse that churns out nothing but retarded mammy worshippers

You are making normie assumptions about geography.

The tropics foster an array of life found nowhere else, so far as is known, in the universe. Such a fecund environment will undoubtedly give rise to base forms of life. It's analogous to the slight correlation of intelligence and sexual fetishes.

How do you know those lower forms have always dominated the Greenhouse?

With the word "greenhouse": have you never noticed the feeling of disappointment on leaving the intense variety and stimulation of a greenhouse for the outside? With the outside being botanical gardens of no small interest.

[Striped_Pyjama_Boy_Nietzschean]

The real white man biome is like Germany to Sweden. Mountainous, humid, and cold, with dense pines and snow on Christmas.

The real White man's biome is the universe, i.e. no biome.

It's the same as White prisoners tolerating, or even preferring, solitary confinement, while browns...

I like pine forests too. Patagonia offers a pleasant landscape and the PNW is very nice indeed.

My aim, however poorly realized, was not to discuss those locations most charming to the culturally European, but instead to examine where life can be found in utmost variety and freedom.

The whites in Georgia, the Bahamas, and above all the Barbadoes are excellent examples of the deleterious effects of residence outside the natural habitat of the Nordic race.”

Do you go in for this "race determined by climate" idea? Breeding, selection and genetics point to the Nordics of lesser quality arising from interbreeding with various aboriginals and weaker elements in the founding stock. See the stability of the race in Florida and the northern part of Queensland.

it's not an environment selecting for anything sublime

The tropical environment is itself sublime. The "malodorous, cacophonous, lurid, nauseating" world that knows none of the boundaries enforced upon life in the deader parts of this planet.

No one sojourns in Brazil or Equatorial Africa for leisure, but they do the Caribbean and the Pacific.

Why do you care where normies or their friends in this sphere go?

Soldiers, writers, artists, all have made their home in the tropics; and if I may say so without going into particulars, they have chosen to do so because of the stimulation to the senses, to life, that is found there.

---

There are the darker races who huddle next to heaters and wrap themselves in big coats when a cool autumn breeze makes an appearance. There are also those of lighter skin who need AC in the summer of a temperate clime.

Exploration and colonization, with its attendant exploitation of the local resources, human and otherwise. They are the two most hated features of the race who have been described as "Aryan".

Realizing the tropics, is not about finding a pleasant place to live or a good destination for vacationing. Neither do I wish to "tame" or "break" what can assist. Yes, life support systems must be established; the same as on a space station in orbit or in an underground exploration tunneling vehicle. I only propose an equivalent means of exploration as in the latter examples, but one for a different objective.

[Matthew Jim Elliott Groyper]

There is perhaps no better example of the White man's struggle for ownership of space in modern times than both America and its forebear, Britain. It would seem that when America finally threw off the yoke of GB, she immediately emulated her mother country in pursuing her manifest destiny, her own desire for expansion, for ownership of space. But what happens when you go far enough westward that you find yourself standing on the shores of the Pacific with nothing left to "conquer" and nothing left to "tame"? You've taken everything that was for the taking, and everything is now owned space. You could go north... but that wouldn't be so fun. Or, maybe you could go south. I'm surprised America hasn't by now, but if it did, would we have it only go so far as to prevent exposure to the tropical airs that sit so nearby? Draw the hard line at Monterrey? 

This is why I referenced the story of Bardamu before. It's not the story of a country as a whole, but of a single man—like you or me—who has finally had enough of the suffocation caused by lack of space, that is, lack of freedom.

As soon as Europe finished dividing the world ennui and dissolution set in; Orwell had nightmarish visions of a world where colonialism succeeded, suburban villa-civilisation from Rangoon to Himalaya. The joy of space is not so much in owning as in conquering it; or perhaps the conquered space came at once to be owned by the law and so ceased to belong to the conquerors.

I like pine forests too. Patagonia offers a pleasant landscape and the PNW is very nice indeed.

I dream about southern South America, where the world ends amid twisted beech-woods and white driftwood scatters itself upon black shores; where a great castle looms out of the fog amidst the clashing of three oceans; where I sit and look forth over my cold kingdom, sole emperor of the South.

[Matthew Jim Elliott Groyper]

Patagonia just feels more European than anywhere else in the Americas. I've never been there, btw.