Robert E. Lee is supposed to have said, “It is well that war is so terrible, or we would grow too fond of it.” But when I look around at the wreckage of what now passes for Western culture, when I see the ongoing degradation and decline of Western civilization, I cannot help but think that perhaps peace is more terrible still.
Seventy years of relative peace and prosperity has made our young men hedonists and homosexuals, cravens and cowards who are more inclined to literally emasculate themselves than demonstrate even a modicum of courage. Seventy years of relative tranquility and safety has made our young women into shameless sluts and whores, barren harridans and harpies devoid of self-respect and self-control.
What has peace done for our morals, for our arts, for our sciences? What has peace done for our universities, for our churches, for our moribund civic and social institutions? What has peace done for our nations, invaded by pagans and barbarians and prostrated before them, too helpless to even complain, let alone resist? What has peace done for our minds, our souls, even our bodies, fat, bloated, soft, and weak?
Is it possible that too many generations of peace and pleasure have proven to be little more than an enervating cancer on our culture? Is it possible that peace is more terrible than war?
If these are the fruits of peace, then peace is a dreadful thing. If this is truly the best that peace has to offer, then for the sake of Man and Western civilization, let there be war.