But it’s a horrifying book. I remember a guru of some kind (not an actual Sikh Guru) sitting on the deck of a ship and women taking turns masturbating him. I remember the ending. It’s a horrifying book – made a big impression on me. I bet I still have that copy although it might be in a box. Freaked me right the hell out.

And it’s happening right now, in Europe, in Greece, in Hungary, at the Chunnel. How long will Europe resist the pressure? They’ve been rather weak-willed since, what, 1900 or thereabouts.

Greece has no money, and hardly any government.

I suggest that the curious read the book and decide for themselves.

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” ~ Inigo Montoya

At least not anymore.

Also present was a rather large number of white women, married–like é‰lise, for example–to gentlemen of color. Everyone listened to what they had to say, though a few whites were noticeably less than enthusiastic, seeing them as symbols of the death of the race. A number of years before, Ralph Ginzburg, the famous American publisher, had printed a series of photos in his magazine Eros, which had caused not a little ink to be spilled. They showed an interracial couple–white woman, black man–in various stages of nude embrace. With a caption that read as follows: “Tomorrow these couples will be recognized as the pioneers of an enlightened age, in which prejudice will be dead and the only race will be the human race.” Yes, that’s what it was all about. And everyone listened with an almost religious awe, because, in point of fact, they spoke in the name of death. Only a white woman can have a white baby. Let her choose not to conceive one, let her choose only nonwhite mates, and the genetic results aren’t long in coming. (In the first provisional government, by the way, é‰lise was named Minister of Population …)

…

The great nameless mass was quite another matter. The dismal fauna of the Third World battalions, from the slums of Paris. And I have to point out that, moments ago, when I questioned whether anyone guessed how serious all this was, these certainly weren’t the ones I meant. They’re all there, every one. “The Chief,” with his troop of rat-hole blacks and his white advisers (from the ragtag priest to the militant tough); Cadi One-Eye himself, and his whole entourage; Mamadou, still grinning from ear to ear; and all the kinky-haired, swarthy-skinned, long-despised phantoms; all the teeming ants toiling for the white man’s comfort; all the swill men and sweepers, the troglodytes, the stinking drudges, the swivel-hipped menials, the womanless wretches, the lung-spewing hackers; all the numberless, nameless, tortured, tormented, indispensable mass … They don’t say much. But they know their strength, and they’ll never forget it. If they have an objection, they simply growl, and it soon becomes clear that their growls run the show. After all, five billion growling human beings, rising over the length and breadth of the earth, can make a lot of noise!

That’s what American citizens so resent. It never should have happened. There was no vote to allow 10% of Mexico to move here.