Crippling the King: Leftism in the Light of a Consciocentric Classic

Dystopian novel? No! Instruction manual? Yes! Those two questions are about George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949). The two answers are from the kind of people Orwell was satirizing in the novel. Britain presently has a government full of people like that. It’s the Labour government of the gray grasper Keir Starmer, the Black buffoon David Lammy and the hectoring harpy Jess Phillips. Are those three in politics because they love Truth, Goodness and Beauty? No! Are they in politics to pursue and abuse power? Yes!

Gray grasper, Black buffoon, hectoring harpy: the Labour leftists Keir Starmer, David Lammy and Jess Phillips

Power is what truly interests and motivates those at the top of the left. That’s why leftists have been so successful in co-opting and corrupting so many institutions, from the media to the universities, from the Church to the military. Leftists are unburdened by any concern for truth, logic or reality, by any need to fulfil their promises or benefit those they claim to care about. Take the British Labour party. It was founded, as its very name proclaims, to champion and protect the working-class. But the Labour grandee Roy Hattersley has openly boasted that in the 1960s he refused to work for what “a clear majority of my [working-class] constituents, and most of the country, undoubtedly wanted — the repatriation of all [non-White] immigrants.” And the Labour grandee Maurice Glasman has openly lamented “a terrible situation where a Labour government was hostile to the English working-class” in the 1990s. Yes, it was a terrible situation. But it was also an Orwellian situation:

Even the names of the four Ministries by which we are governed exhibit a sort of impudence in their deliberate reversal of the facts. The Ministry of Peace concerns itself with war, the Ministry of Truth with lies, the Ministry of Love with torture and the Ministry of Plenty with starvation. (Nineteen Eighty Four, Part 3, chapter 9)

In modern Britain, the Labour party is “hostile to the working-class,” the Conservative party seeks to destroy, not to conserve, and the Liberal-Democrats believe neither in freedom nor in democracy. That’s Orwellian. A novel first published in 1949 is still fully relevant to British politics in 2026. Why so? Because the kind of leftists Orwell was satirizing back then are still around right now. They love power and hate Truth, Beauty and Goodness. But what is the point of power for leftists? Here is the answer supplied in Orwell’s novel by the inquisitor O’Brien as he tortures and lectures the protagonist Winston Smith in the perma-lit cellars of the Ministry of Love:

[O’Brien said:] “The real power, the power we have to fight for night and day, is not power over things, but over men.”

He paused, and for a moment assumed again his air of a schoolmaster questioning a promising pupil: “How does one man assert his power over another, Winston?”

Winston thought. “By making him suffer,” he said.

“Exactly. By making him suffer. Obedience is not enough. Unless he is suffering, how can you be sure that he is obeying your will and not his own? Power is in inflicting pain and humiliation. Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.” (Nineteen Eighty Four, Part 3, chapter 3)

There’s a shorter way of saying all that: Power is about crippling the King. But who is the King? I’m not talking about Chuck the Cuck or Elvis or any other mundane and material monarch. Instead, I’m talking about the King of the Universe. But I’m not talking about Jesus either. No, I’m talking about this King:

The most important thing in the universe can’t be seen, touched, tasted, smelt or heard. No scientific instrument can detect it or measure it. Indeed, everything that science knows and understands about it could be written on the full stop at the end of this sentence. Then again, from the scientific point of view there is no reason whatsoever for it to exist. The universe could — and for billions of years seemingly did — get along perfectly well without it. What is it? It’s consciousness, of course. Without it, you have nothing. With it, you have everything — the myriad sights, sounds, scents, sensations of human existence. All the thoughts and emotions. And the ability to transcend the material. Consider this example of simple logic: If A = B and B = C, then A = C. Such logic applies throughout space and time, although its enactment within your brain occupies a mere speck of space and blink of time. (“Magnissimum Mysterium: Pondering a Huge but Hidden Factor in Politics and White Nationalism,” The Occidental Observer, 19th February 2022)

All of that is why I insist that Consciousness is King. And the crippling of consciousness is, I’d suggest, the central theme of Nineteen Eighty-Four, which is what I’d call a consciocentric classic. That’s why O’Brien proclaims this leftist lie there: “Nothing exists except through human consciousness.” (Op. cit., Part Three, chapter 3) Nineteen Eighty-Four is centered on consciousness and on the second of what are, for human beings, two of the most significant things about consciousness. The first is that we can’t ever explain it in ourselves. The second is we can easily alter it in others. For me, the most interesting and important of all philosophical and scientific questions is this: “How does consciousness work?” But that question is interesting in part because, so far, it’s been intractable. Trying to explain consciousness is like trying to kiss the sun. Anyone can try it, but no-one is going to succeed. Consciousness is at once the most intimate and most elusive phenomenon in the universe. We’ve all got it (or have we?), but no-one has come within a million light-years of explaining it.

The voice and the voyeurism

But if no-one can explain consciousness, anyone can alter it, both in themself and in others. I’m altering your consciousness right now through the medium of language. But if you want, you can turn me off, as it were. You can stop reading and never give my blathering another thought. That isn’t true in Nineteen Eighty-Four. Ordinary citizens can never turn off the blathering of the Party. Or escape its gaze:

The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way. On each landing, opposite the lift-shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.

Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. (Nineteen Eighty Four, Part 1, chapter 1)

In Nineteen Eighty-Four, you can’t turn off the voice of the Party and you can’t escape the voyeurism of the Party. In other words, the Party is always in your consciousness. That’s where egomaniacs and megalomaniacs want to be: always at the center of your world just as they are always at the center of their own. Jews and “transwomen” are like that, which is part of why Jews and translunatics are so prominent in leftism despite being such small minorities. The narcissism and vengefulness of Jews and translunatics are also things that those two groups pursue through leftism. The original Narcissus merely wanted to gaze on his own face in adoration. The narcissists named after him want you to gaze at adoration at their faces too. And if you don’t gaze, if you don’t accept their adorability, they want to punish you. In other words, they want to cripple your King — to permanently mar and mark your consciousness. That’s what the Party does to Winston in Nineteen Eighty-Four:

“Do not imagine that you will save yourself, Winston, however completely you surrender to us. No one who has once gone astray is ever spared. And even if we chose to let you live out the natural term of your life, still you would never escape from us. What happens to you here is for ever. Understand that in advance. We shall crush you down to the point from which there is no coming back. Things will happen to you from which you could not recover, if you lived a thousand years. Never again will you be capable of ordinary human feeling. Everything will be dead inside you. Never again will you be capable of love, or friendship, or joy of living, or laughter, or curiosity, or courage, or integrity. You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves.” (Nineteen Eighty Four, Part 3, chapter 2)

In short, O’Brien is telling Winston that the Party will cripple his King. When O’Brien says “you,” he means “your consciousness.” The Party will always be in Winston’s thoughts, always fouling his emotions — always be part of his consciousness. And Winston could never have escaped that fate, because he is in effect playing a role chosen for him by the Party, which was aware of his rebellion from the very beginning. Indeed, there are hints in the novel that he’s been hypnotized into heresy, that the Party has written a script for him to read just as it’s prepared a stage for him to act on and be secretly filmed and photographed on.[1] Winston thinks that he’s found a private room without a telescreen where he and his fellow rebel Julia can live and love away from the Party’s control and the Party’s scrutiny, even if only for a few months. But in reality the room is a trap prepared for them by the Party. And at one point the Party sardonically inserts itself into Winston’s consciousness there, gloatingly foretelling what awaits him at the Ministry of Love:

[Julia] suddenly twisted herself over in the bed, seized a shoe from the floor, and sent it hurtling into the corner with a boyish jerk of her arm, exactly as he had seen her fling the dictionary at Goldstein, that morning during the Two Minutes Hate.

“What was it?” he said in surprise.

“A rat. I saw him stick his beastly nose out of the wainscoting. There’s a hole down there. I gave him a good fright, anyway.”

“Rats!” murmured Winston. “In this room!”

“They’re all over the place,” said Julia indifferently as she lay down again. “We’ve even got them in the kitchen at the hostel. Some parts of London are swarming with them. Did you know they attack children? Yes, they do. In some of these streets a woman daren’t leave a baby alone for two minutes. It’s the great huge brown ones that do it. And the nasty thing is that the brutes always——”

“Don’t go on!” said Winston, with his eyes tightly shut.

“Dearest! You’ve gone quite pale. What’s the matter? Do they make you feel sick?”

“Of all horrors in the world — a rat!” (Nineteen Eighty Four, Part 2, chapter 4)

Yet it wasn’t a real rat or a real hole: it was a member of the Thought Police wiggling a toy rat through a fake hole. The Party was in Winston’s consciousness, but he wasn’t conscious that it was the Party. That kind of game with consciousness — “I know what this really means, but you don’t” — appeals to a certain psychology. It’s both sardonic and sadistic. Blacks working in restaurants and similar places play that game when they contaminate the food of Whites with spittle, mucus, urine and feces: “We know that this is more than food, you honky mofos, but you don’t!”[2] And Jews played the game when they secretly rigged explosives in the pagers used by members of Hezbollah in Lebanon: “We know that these are more than pagers, you anti-Semitic scum, but you don’t!” It’s debatable whether the booby-trapped pagers were a legitimate tactic of war. It isn’t debatable whether Israelis and their supporters took sadistic pleasure in the slyness and cunning whereby Israel mutilated and maimed its enemies. They certainly did take sadistic pleasure in it and the psychology of that sadism is explained in Nineteen Eighty-Four.

So is the psychology — and sadism — of the surveillance state. Early on Winston ponders the three chutzpah-laden slogans of the Party: “WAR IS PEACE, FREEDOM IS SLAVERY, IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.” After that:

He took a twenty-five cent piece out of his pocket. There, too, in tiny clear lettering, the same slogans were inscribed, and on the other face of the coin the head of Big Brother. Even from the coin the eyes pursued you. On coins, on stamps, on the covers of books, on banners, on posters, and on the wrappings of a cigarette packet — everywhere. Always the eyes watching you and the voice enveloping you. Asleep or awake, working or eating, indoors or out of doors, in the bath or in bed — no escape. Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimetres inside your skull. (Nineteen Eighty Four, Part 1, chapter 2)

The Party is always in Winston’s consciousness, always watching him, always speaking to him. But he clings to the hope that Die Gedanken sind frei — “Thoughts are free.” As he will later learn, he’s wrong about that. The Party can get inside his skull too, can inflict pain on him not just indirectly, through his peripheral nerves, but also by directly interfering with the working of his brain:

Without any warning except a slight movement of O’Brien’s hand, a wave of pain flooded [Winston’s] body. It was a frightening pain, because he could not see what was happening, and he had the feeling that some mortal injury was being done to him. He did not know whether the thing was really happening, or whether the effect was electrically produced; but his body was being wrenched out of shape, the joints were being slowly torn apart. Although the pain had brought the sweat out on his forehead, the worst of all was the fear that his backbone was about to snap. He set his teeth and breathed hard through his nose, trying to keep silent as long as possible.

“You are afraid,” said O’Brien, watching his face, “that in another moment something is going to break. Your especial fear is that it will be your backbone. You have a vivid mental picture of the vertebrae snapping apart and the spinal fluid dripping out of them. That is what you are thinking, is it not, Winston?” (Nineteen Eighty Four, Part 3, chapter 2)

It wasn’t “really happening”: it was being “electrically produced.” O’Brien knows about the “vivid mental picture” because he put it into Winston’s head with the torture-machine he’s operating. Even more frightening in some ways is the mind-alteration machine O’Brien later uses. It can make Winston see four fingers as somehow five fingers, make him believe that the lunatic lies of the Party are luminous truths. I’ve written about that machine previously at the Occidental Observer, when I discussed the Jewish psychologists Amy R. Krosch and Sheldon Solomon.[3] I said that they and countless other leftists “would be delighted to use a mind-alteration machine against thought-criminals like those who write for and read the Occidental Observer.”

Amy R. Krosch and her krusading komrades “Catherine” Wall and Stephanie Tepper, whose “research interests holistically focus on bias and prejudice” and on “high-level social inequalities”[4] (images from Krosch Lab)

At present leftists can’t use mind-machines like that, but they can certainly try to alter your mind — to cripple your consciousness — in other ways. We are entering dark and difficult days, as the lunacies and lies of leftism begin to bear the poisonous fruit of societal collapse and civil war. Open conflict may soon begin between Whites and the incompatible, unassimilable racial and religious groups imported by the left to wage war on Whites and the West. But part of that war has always been waged against the minds of Whites. They want to cripple your King, to contaminate and corrupt your consciousness. O’Brien proclaims this in that consciocentric classic Nineteen Eighty-Four: “Nothing exists except through human consciousness.” That is a leftist lie, because there is an objective reality outside and independent of human consciousness. But O’Brien’s lie is based on an obvious truth: that nothing matters or has value except through consciousness, whether human, animal, alien or divine.[5] Leftists want to inflict their own misery and hatred of existence on healthy, happy Whites. They also want Whites to despair. Don’t let them do it. Don’t let them cripple your King.

Stonetoss offers some excellent advice visually, just as Nick Griffin offers some excellent advice verbally

[1]Years before he rebels, Winston dreams of hearing an unknown voice in a pitch-dark room that tells him: “We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness.” (Op. cit., Part One, chapter 2) He doesn’t understand the words, but the voice is O’Brien’s and alluding to the perma-lit torture-chambers of the Ministry of Love.

[2]This secret contamination by Blacks is a big but under-reported problem in America. I’m sure that it’s also a big but under-reported problem in other countries where Blacks and other non-Whites are serving White customers. Of course, some Whites do it too, both to other Whites and to non-Whites, but disgusting behavior like that is worse in racially mixed and resentment-filled societies.

[3]In the article itself, I said I wasn’t certain that Amy R. Krosch was Jewish. A commenter helpfully pointed out that “Sarah Gunther, Amy Krosch’s civil-law wife, works for the American Jewish World Service and donates to Jewish religious charities.”

[4]  All three of these heresy-sniffing academics are “LGBTQIA,” all three are possibly Jewish, and all three look both crazy and malevolent.

[5]Imagine a physically complex and active universe that does not contain consciousness and of which no consciousness is ever aware (or rather: don’t imagine it). How would such a universe differ from an empty universe or from nothing, pragmatically, phenomenologically and even ontologically speaking? It wouldn’t, I suggest.