© & ® Varg Vikernes. Do not reproduce, respect the copyrights.
A Burzum Story: Part XIV - Untamed Forever
Once upon a time I was a happy human being. Young, ignorant and innocent. Blue-eyed, honest and thoroughly good. In other words; I had not yet been "educated" by society. Like so many others though, I had been born in a world not built for me. I was born a free human being, a Stone Age hunter-gatherer of true European stock, wild and untameable like a wolf. I was not anything like the already domesticated people around me. So I observed them with wonder; what on Earth are they doing and saying, and why are they? Why do they care what others think of the clothes they wear, the music they listen to, the games they play? They were almost all desperate to "fit" in the molds of society. They wanted to be even more domesticated than they already were. They were auto-domesticating themselves, to use my wife's words. Why?
If you read on expecting to find an answer to these questions you can just stop right away; I still don't know the answer, save perhaps that I know that they do because they are domesticated creatures. Tamed. Broken. Spineless. Worthless...
Life would have been better, or at least much easier, for me personally if I too had become domesticated, but just like a wolf I cannot be. I am untameable. So I am constantly in conflict with the world I live in. It is built by and for the domesticated man and not at all for me. Now, If you read this there is of course a chance that you too are a free man, just like me; you are untamed and probably untameable. And of course you are for the same reason as I am; you are born a free human being of true European stock. We are not mongrels, and therefore we are untameable. The last bastion of hope for mankind as a species.
Rather than continue on that topic, though, I will explain why this is mentioned in context with Burzum. You see, Burzum came about not because I wanted to make music or indeed sought fame and fortune (as if I have any of that now...). No. Instead Burzum came about because I had nothing better to do. Nothing interested me. Nothing was worth working for or fighting for. And – dear Pagan God – I certainly did not want to spend the rest of my life amongst domesticated people. "Sheeple". Naturally I had a hope the world would be destroyed completely in a WWIII, so that we could start fresh and build something better instead on the ruins of the old world, and whilst waiting I played the guitars in my boy's room. But as we all know that hope was crushed when the Berlin Wall fell and the Soviet Union ceased to exist. All I was left with was that old guitar and nothing else to do.
I honestly wish I had done something else instead. Something more private. Something that I didn't need to share with the world in order to make a living of it. The only problem is that I really cannot tell what that could have been. It was already too late to enlist in the Waffen-SS, and those guys were pretty uniform, so I probably wouldn't have fitted in very well anyhow, and it was certainly too late to embark on a long-ship and teach those wanna-be-Jews elsewhere in Europe that Europeans are not supposed to kneel in front of any foreign false "gods", and especially not that Jewish criminal bastard son called Jesus.
Today I am in a sense back where I started; waiting for this world to be destroyed, not by a WWIII fought between the NATO criminals and the Warsaw Pact criminals, but by increasing unrest, rioting, civil war and eventually total collapse of all the institutions in our society. I fear it, because I don't think it will be a very easy change-over period for any of us, but I know that we need it, so I welcome it. Even the "sheeple" need it lest they will be destroyed by their Jewish masters. Of course the Jews will escape the sinking ship with all the gold they can carry, if they indeed have anywhere to go this time, but the rest of us, sheeple as well as good people, will suffer for a long time before it gets any better again.
So, my dear friends and enemies, I am stuck with my guitar, and I am forced by circumstance to remain a mere musician. Not a Nordic Warrior defending my kin and tribe. Not an SS-soldier fighting the lackeys of the Jews in the East or West. Not anything honourable, fun or noble whatsoever; just a mere musician... another damn musician. As if we haven't got enough of them already.