To the readers, followers, and fellow-travelers on this long strange trip,
If I’d been told a year ago that I would have an audience reading my Substack articles, over three-thousand followers on twitter, and had been the sole guest on the Academic Agent’s Cigar Stream, I wouldn’t have believed it. If I’d been told a year ago that all of my friends now were those whose content I watched and admired, learned from, or who learned from my own content, my disbelief would have been total. Regardless, a year has passed, and all of the above is true.
About this time last year, I was beginning my senior year in university and spending entire days and nights in the Library. I had returned from an eventful summer at a variety of military installations, where I had been hit by the double-barreled dilemma of the fall of Kabul and the simultaneous announcement of an inevitable vaccine mandate. The former could not be solved. For the latter, I contented myself that it would resolve itself. But when it did not, I was forced to make a choice, the consequences of which still have not been fully realized.
It was these circumstances which compelled me to begin writing my thoughts. When one is caught between this unrealest of unreal cities which silicon portals transport us to, and a real life rather dull, gray, and boringly sterile, expression remains a necessity for those dysfunctional enough to need such. So, in a dreadfully unoriginal move, I entered a saturated market with yet another Substack newsletter.
Initially, my effort was as null as my success. My military training conflicted with this nascent “Movement’s” lack of structure, so I attempted to fill in the gaps using the only thing I believed I could bring to the table, Army Doctrine. Of course I gave it up upon realizing that I was far outside of my depth, and that there was no real coterie to organize or that I was capable of organizing even if there were.
So instead, upon hearing about my future mentor, Thomas777’s Sci-Fi story, I decided to take my own crack at National Socialist Fiction (despite my own Liberalism.) The results, once again, were corollary to my effort (or lack thereof) and once again I went back to the drawing board. It was around this time that the U.S. event was announced in Nashville.
Despite knowing I had a drill weekend, I was the first individual to buy a ticket. Upon learning that speakers were being considered, I’d submitted a topic within fifteen minutes of buying a ticket. Much to my shock and surprise, my topic was accepted, and I immediately knew that in order to meet the demands of such an audience, my effort would need to drastically increase.
Increase it I did, attempting to write a speech that could best encapsulate my adolescent worldview at the time in order to present it in as inspiring a way as I possibly could. It was here that a chance hosting of the great Thomas777 on Mr. Academic Agent’s channel led to a crossing of fates. Following the stream, I reached out to him and thus resumed a friendship like it’d been on pause my entire life. His assistance and guidance was invaluable in the preparation of the speech, which all present at the U.S. event swear to me was well received.
It seems from there the source of my success began. I was introduced to another mentor, Mr. Christopher Sandbatch, whose melancholia was and is directly inverse to Thomas’ conviction. Yet the two represent the greatest among both general lines of thought within this nascent collection of regime rejects who if not rejected would be leading said regime to a dominance yet unknown, and to the stars yet untouched.
Since that cold Sunday afternoon in February, my notoriety has increased in both ways I intended and ways I did not. I’ve made among the best friends I’ve ever had in the past few months, joined by sentiment and dissatisfaction, yet finding a common humor in between all of it that the pretenses of internet lingo begin to be dropped in favor of the casual regarding reserved for friends met in real life. Such has compelled me into the deepest back-country searching for esoteric secrets I find are not so esoteric upon finding them.
In terms of content, I’ve established a niche and an unpopular choice of politics. Whether your sensibilities favor my worldview or my demeanor you are most welcome to either. There’s more than one way to like a man.
I only believe this to be the first in a lifetime of years given to this, whether it be a movement, a cause, or just an extended collection of friends with similar humor, experiences, and sentiments. This thing is my entire life, has been my entire life, and I would have it no other way. Even amongst the women who attach themselves to this thing do I hope to one day find the mother of my children, and I believe God intends such for all of us who desire it for the right reasons.
It has been a long ride. I started as a formerly Christian Vedic Pagan, became a Pagan who believed in Jesus, and now I’m a Christian keeping his Paganism at bay while his Janus-face looks both ways. I hope to resolve this dispute before I die, in a way with finality. I too started as a true believer in the United States, then as a hater of what it’d become and a believer in something else, yet now I’ve come back to the love of what it once was, is now (if hidden,) and what it could still be.
The whole time, however, I have remained Paul Fahrenheidt. Through ups and downs I have not yet lost myself, and I hope that the losing myself in the past was the full extent of the limited circumstances of losing myself over this entire lifetime I’ve been gifted. I thank God for giving me what he was given me, and I pray I will never be anything but.
To all of you, whether longtime readers or recent additions, I must give you my completist and sincerest gratitude for taking the time and effort to make known your enjoyment of what I do. So long as there remains a single soul who enjoys what I do, I will keep doing it. I am not a hard man to find or to get in contact with, and my door and DMs remain open to anyone who wishes to use it.
May God guide and keep all of you.
I remain your most humble and obedient servant,
– Paul Fahrenheidt