The Hive and racial purity

There is a new kid on the HBD block.

That lovable and inquisitive group of bloggers which span all manner of beliefs and values while simultaneously sharing a common premise which can be summarized as such: humans, in their various ethnic and colorful incarnations, while still being guided by grand and underlying evolutionary forces common to all of us, nevertheless still differ in temperament, values and intellect by virtue of the color of their pigment and the composition of their body. In other words, a person’s ethnicity reflects a very strong indicator of short-term evolution towards differentiating traits. The fact that Black people are great athletes or that Asians are academic elites is not an environmental fluke. These traits are not a result of the confluence of various environmental factors. HBDers essentially attribute much of our behavior to inherent genetic, ie evolutionary, forces which are buried within the ancient biological code that dictates ethnicity.

The HBDers are quite an interesting crowd and I find myself concurring with many of their beliefs, even though much of what they believe clinically tells me that because I’m of Hispanic ethnicity, the most useful purpose I can ever serve (or am genetically capable of) is mopping up bathroom floors or maybe burping stranger’s babies.

This new kid on the block. In the HBD blogosphere.

His name is Planet Grok and he’s proven to be quite the cuddly yet standoffish and precocious little tyke.

Planet Grok is relatively new, and as such, rather unencumbered by any sort of weighty reputation. He has not loftily earned a proud level of respect to sustain (as yet). He can be candid and wittily offensive. One of his first tasks as a full-fledged member of the blogosphere was to launch an assault on fellow HBD-adjacent blogger, Obsidian.. Good times ensued.

Obviously Grok was intent on making a splash, a big, funky and genetically programmed splash. His unencumbered nature differentiates him for now. Not for the weary of heart nor sensitive of soul, it requires great amounts of courageousness (or masochism) for me to trollop through Planet Grok, especially since Grok-land seems to specialize in the debasement and ridicule of Hispanics above all other groups of “color.” In fact, in one recent post, he went so far as to publicly indulge in a private game many “race-conscious” folks love to play which involves constructing a checklist and hierarchy in which reviled minority groups are assembled into a pyramid of ascending stereotypes. The exercise in this post involved listing the Strengths and Weakness of various ethnic groups. Listed last were “native American Hispanics” (curious and very telling nomenclature, no?). Grok began by listing several weaknesses; in the space reserved for strengths, he listed a simple question mark. That was it.

Yeah, I love to be singled out for my tremendous and ethnically notable gift of sub-mediocrity!

Let’s move on…

As usual, the comments you find scattered throughout the blogosphere make this march through the human cognitive mindfield worth the trip. A precarious journey. Many times when I’m struggling for inspiration, all I need to do is take a comment tour of various blogs to liven up my mind, spark the creative shell where my brain resides.

I wasn’t even looking for it. I first read the comment in an email alert I subscribe to.

The comment was strikingly aggressive and grouchy, while at the same time dryly hilarious. A racial dirge possible only in this world of cerebral racists. I’m not clear on the propriety of reprinting a full comment here, but I’ll give it a shot since this is one comment that deserves a wonderful dose of publicity (not that this blog will necessarily supply anything of the sort… ).

The great thing about Grok and his blog’s virginity is the lack of restraint he can get away with. His stage is very wide (or in this case, white) and he can get away with printing such comments:

As I read, I shifted gears.
Shifted them.

I realized something. This isn’t about race anymore.

Race is but a symptom, an ingredient.

You see, if you read Pseudothyrum’s comments, you may realize…

The Hive.
Time to unearth the Hive Manifesto.

Read Pseudothyrum’s comment. He (she?) is detailing the road map, the trajectory of racial evolution against the context of my theoretic Hive-ization of modern man.

Pseudo’s postulation is inarguable, the way I see it.
As the purity of any race is diluted, dissassembled by a larger constituent invader. It loses its former strengths, its inherent domninant traits.

However, on the flip side, it also loses many of its normallly recessive weaknesses. The dilution and miscegenation that Pseudo speaks of is at once a blessing and a curse.

A world of widespread and extensive racial purity is the antithesis of The Hive. For The Hive blurs and blends and creates half-tones. The Hive will not tolerate individuality, it will not tolerate dominance. And it will not tolerate recessiveness either! The Hive breathes and lives transitory halway-ness.

Human mental advancement drives technology. Technology drives the Hive.
For technology enables and expedites the demands of the Hive. And as the Hive’s assembly accelerates, the drive to accelerate furiously compounds. The Hive’s growth is exponential.

The Hive is old as mankiind.

Even though Pseudo, and many other true believers in the HBD community, believe, miscegenation has lead to the ensuing weakening of strong human genetic lines. This is but one facet of the Hive. The blurring, as I’ve mentioned previously.

The blurring and increasing indistinguishableness of the Hive’s human participants presents itself as one large, subservient massive flood of humanity servicing the masters, the Queen Bee.

And dismaying to the HBD group, so too will our physical and intellectual identities blur and merge.

For the HBDers decry the loss of excellence, the absence of pinnacles of individual achievement. The Hive asks that we all achieve together, and in so doing, sacrifice our own personal sense of pursuit of excellence for the sake of the Hive.

Pseudo’s lament, while not unusual, is burdened by a sense of implicit helplessness akin to the act of erecting a small straw fence in the face of a onrushing buffalo stampede.

The Hive is real. It is not magic. Accelerating behind the powerful forces of modernity and its technology, it seeks to withstand the rebellious stands of a few garrulous souls battling bravely to disrupt the uniform architecture of the Hive.

Of which HBD is the most minute speck.