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Up until the death of Lawrence Auster on March 29, 2013, thousands of devoted fans came to this website everyday, sometimes two or three times a day. They came for Mr. Auster’s brilliant political and cultural commentary. They felt that his unique combination of insight, combativeness, erudition, wit and warmth could not be found elsewhere. He is much missed and this site continues to draw many visitors each day. Fortunately, Mr.

Auster left this abundant archive and it is a generous gift to those who wish to explore it. It includes quick, trenchant analysis of current events; lengthy essays on a variety of subjects; elegant debate and a systematic philosophy of modern decline. The articles featured in the sidebar are especially important and relevant. Please feel free to quote from the material here. Those who wish to use longer excerpts may request permission. Auster was a “traditionalist” who is best known for his writings on immigration, race, Islam, Darwinism, politics and feminism. His book, “The Path to National Suicide” was a seminal work in the immigration restrictionist movement.

Lawrence Auster died today at 3:56 a.m., Eastern Daylight Time, at a hospice in West Chester, Pennsylvania. His death came after more than a week of rapidly worsening distress and physical collapse caused by the pancreatic cancer he endured for almost three years. On Monday evening, after arriving at the hospice in the late afternoon, Mr.

Auster read and responded to a few emails. He then closed his battered and medicine-stained Lenovo laptop for the last time. “That’s enough for now,” he said, holding his hands over the computer as if sated by an unfinished meal. He did not expect that to be the last. But the blogging career that stands out on the Internet and in the history of American letters as a tour de force of philosophical and cultural insight is over. Auster entered a state of sedated and sometimes pained sleep the next day, after a night of agony. He spoke no more than a few words during the next two days and died peacefully this morning after about ten hours of unusually quiet and mostly undisturbed rest.

Today I have received many emails that were sent to me starting Monday and I have replied to those few that were reply-worthy. It’s too hard to explain why I had not received them until today. In any case, please know that I am still alive, that my life as a Christian (though hardly a good one) continues, and that I am not in imminent danger of death. I am leaving the hospital probably tomorrow and within a week will probably be back at my friend’s home. Why am I not saying more about myself and my circumstances? It’s simply too complicated, given the objective situation, and too difficult, given my physical situation, to say more. This is a major symptom—the worst symptom so far—of the florid schizophrenic HAL-like destructive insanity of my Lenovo laptop with Windows XP.

Yet the event does not seem a total disaster resulting in the total loss of several hours of intense work. The public entry page itself has not seemed to disappear. When last I checked, a couple of minutes ago, it was. If the preceding hyperlink to the public entry works and still displays, the public page still exists.

The public entry can still be reconstituted. It is about my progress in the hospital. The entry address itself is (or rather it was; who knows how long will continue to exist?): I am copying everything to different applications for security. But because I cannot send an e-mail from the hospital and I don’t have a USB backup drive with me in the hospital I cannot instantly create a secure backup if the laptop proceeds to total breakdown. The laptop is in worse shape than my body, and seemingly far less responsive to treatment. But fear not: Alan M., who hosts VFR on his own backup site, does an automatic nightly backup of VFR. Yesterday morning—Wednesday morning—beset by innumerable physical problems, I went to the same emergency room at the same excellent suburban Pennsylvania hospital near my friend’s house to which I had gone February 11th, and, in the same manner as last month, was admitted to the hospital on the same day.

It was not until today that I had with me my laptop computer (though not entirely: I can get on the Web, but for some reason I cannot receive e-mail; hence my being out of touch). There is so much to tell about the many developments in my case over the last several days, or over the last three days, or over the last two days, that I would hardly know where to start. The only way to simplify the story to an account which would not be too complicated to tell clearly and non-confusingly given my present circumstances and present capacity—and without a larger effort than I am willing or able to make given my present desire and capacity—would be to write: “My condition has improved amazingly over the last two days. Since I was checked into the hospital yesterday morning, the simultaneous, multileveled, and overwhelming pains and discomforts that I had yesterday are all gone.” At the same time other problems, caused by the treatment itself, have appeared: I am feeling somewhat disoriented and I have occasionally experienced excess sleepiness. My medical team told me in advance of these possibilities. We are working together on fine-tuning the level of intravenous treatment so that it will adequately keep down the pain without in any way incapacitating me. * * * What you’ve read so far is what I originally posted just before midnight Friday.

But here’s one exception to the abstract generality of this post. Friday afternoon I was brought down from my third floor room to the lowest floor of the hospital, where a non-surgical team in the interventional radiation department punctured and drained with needles the ascites, which is fluid in the abdominal cavity. It’s funny, but I just realized that when I recently said that I do not relate to praying to God for material benefits for myself, I was contradicting what I was saying—and doing—just a few months ago. Sometime in the late fall, I had decided on certain prayers I needed to make, and I was making them. The first was that I straighten myself out with God before I die. The second was that I be able to complete my must-do projects, mainly writing projects, but also personal projects, before I die. (I think there was a third prayer, but I don’t remember what it was; maybe there were only two prayers.) I feel I have, through God’s grace, made amazing progress on the spiritual goal that I was praying for.

In amazed gratitude I’ve written several times about my sense of greater closeness to Jesus. In any case I was wrong in saying I did not like to pray for material benefits for myself. As I noted, Joel LeFevre wrote to me last week in response to my request for someone to give me his contact information. He told me that he hadn’t written back to me when a couple of years ago I wrote to him repeatedly on an urgent matter (the which Mr.

LeFevre had created and maintained, had disappeared from the Web) because his server had a problem for a while. Well, I assumed based on his answer that the problem was fixed now. But today I wrote to him on another important matter, and once again the e-mail bounced back with the message that “The following addresses have delivery problems.” To paraphrase the bard of our time, how many times can a man’s server stop people from communicating with him?

UPDATE: Joel LeFevre has responded, giving me his alternative e-mail addresses. Someone sent me a group e-mail today, and I sent her this reply. I have sent many e-mails similar to this one over the years, but this time I decided to post it: If you are sending an email to multiple recipients, you should not put their names and e-mail addresses in the cc line. That way everyone on the list is included by force in a group he doesn’t know (including you—I don’t know you); and, worse, if people reply to the e-mail, everyone on the list starts getting e-mails from people he doesn’t know, which is very annoying.

The addresses of the recipients should go in the bcc line, not the cc line. This is basic email etiquette. Lawrence Auster. Posting entries, adding comments to entries, and revising entries has become incredibly difficult. It takes at least twice the time it ought to, because my three-and-a-half-year-old Lenovo laptop with Windows XP keeps doing unwanted and bizarre things.

If I were to catalogue those things in detail, you would be astounded. I think the laptop is slowly breaking down and going maliciously berserk, like the computer HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey. At the same time I am extremely reluctant to move my work to my new Asus laptop with Windows 7 or get some other computer, because the time and effort needed to learn and get adjusted to the peculiarities of a new computer would be greater than that involved in continuing to work with my present laptop, as bothersome as that is. But a possible solution occurs to me.

Yesterday I finally sent to the publisher the chapters in Part One of my book, and some of chapters of Part Two. The book is tentatively conceived as having three parts. I want to tell in detail this story, because it also involves the very bad, Job-like, many-sided state of suffering under which I was toiling all Friday night, and also several hours on Saturday morning when I was doing this work.

The suffering included the intense gut pain (around 70 percent of the unbearable pain I had in late January / early February which was ended by the first nerve block), which suggested to me that the second celiac plexus nerve block, administered on Wednesday, was not working, which in turn suggested to me that my functional life was close to over, because the doctors’ next step would be morphine. But since around noon Saturday—24 hours!—there has been no gut pain, suggesting that my functional life will last at least a couple of months more, giving me the time to finish my must-do projects, Amazingly, the only serious physical problem I’ve had over the last day is serious bodily weakness, making it difficult for me to move. Even the bad pain down the entire esophagus and the accompanying great difficulty experienced in swallowing (including swallowing the many pills I take each day), which started this past week, and which we learned is a standard result of the radiation treatment, has mostly ended due to a liquid medicine that restores and protects the mucus lining of the esophagus. So, my Job-like suffering has become simple suffering, and it’s not that bad.

I will try to write that entry later. It will accomplish two things at once: it will have specific information on the progress of my work and also specific information on the evolution of my health status, which various readers have asked for, but which I haven’t provided in some time. (Note: see in the comments a reader’s correction of my speculation that the poor, talented students of which the Times is speaking are primarily blacks.) But if, as the Times, these students do not even know of the existence of better colleges in America, and they have absolutely no aspiration to attend any schools that are outside their local area, how smart and talented could they be? They appear to have very small horizongs and little knowledge of and little curiosity in the world. Don’t very smart people tend to have large horizons? My guess is that the Times is doing its usual rationalizations for the intellectual and other deficiencies of blacks.

I did not read the entire article,but I’d say that it’s fair possibility that it ends up asserting that these students are culturally and geographically isolated by racial discrimination and by the lack of special federal programs that inform them of the existence of better schools..The eternal top-priority project and moral obligation of Liberal America (America 2.0)—at unlimited cost in societal effort, taxpayers’ money, and orchestrated white guilt—is to render blacks in general as functional as whites in general. And that will never happen. And no one who makes his living in mainstream America dare say it.

: In response to the announcement that the cancer I have survived for three years has spread to the brain, readers sent me an extraordinary outpouring of letters of appreciation and anticipatory farewell that makes me feel I’m the most fortunate man on earth. Nero 7.5 Download Gratis Italiano Per Windows 7. : The sacralization of blacks in our culture is both the opposite of what blacks deserve, and the principal expression of white Americans’ will to national and racial suicide.: VFR’s revised and expanded version of John Derbyshire’s sensible advice to his children (and to all non-blacks) which got him dismissed from National Review. : For the last eight months I have intended to tell readers about a certain personal situation, but kept delaying doing so, though some readers have been aware of it.