melodies for mass murderers — Strategic Culture

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Even though genocide rapper Simon Bikindi, the Rwandan Michael Jackson as he was called, was highly ambiguous in his lyrics, his conviction for war crimes is highly relevant to what Pussy Riot, the French Olympians and other proponents of hypocritical hate speech within NATO are doing today.

Bikindi’s lyrical content, anchored as it was in local lore, is the antithesis of the Peace & Love Hippy music of the 1960s. “It is the duty of all Muhutu to arise and exterminate all the cockroaches” doesn’t quite strike the same chord as San Francisco, written in 1967 at the height of the Vietnam genocide.

In short, the International Criminal Court ruled that while rap songs like Bikindi’s “I hate Hutu” sent a message to all listeners, his core audience knew full well that the genocidal “work” they were being asked to do involved slaughtering all the Hutus who were helping the Tutsis subjugate the Hutus.

Although Bikindi pointed out that the government had ordered him to write the songs he was accused of long before the genocide began, and that he had a relationship with Angeline Mukabanana, a Tutsi, and that she in turn testified that Bikindi hated no one and was simply an opportunist looking for money, the CIA pranksters in The Hague gave him 15 years, even though they agreed that his lyrics were notoriously difficult to decipher.

Given that all three of Bikindi’s major compositions were composed, produced, and recorded prior to the 1994 genocide, it can easily be argued that the Rwandan government cynically used Bikindi’s music to further inflame tensions between Rwanda’s two main ethnic groups. The NATO victors thought otherwise and beat him up; in a chilling warning to all of us who are targeted by NATO’s hateful evangelicals today, scholar Martin Cloonan argues that because Bikindi’s Twasazareye transformed “from simple hate speech to a demonstrable element of a consciously deployed call for genocide,” Bikindi deserved the lengthy sentence he received, even though he played no part in that transformation.

Although Bikindi objected that he was being tried for exercising his freedom of speech, no one would deny that Bikindi was very talented and that his raw talent helped make his songs a fixture of the political rallies and extremist radio broadcasts that played a crucial role in fueling the 1994 genocide. While the same argument could be made about the rock music Yankee soldiers listened to while hunting Vietnamese turkeys, no one in their right mind could make that defense for the interconnected Russian, Irish, and French idiots we’re talking about now.

The Russian group Pussy Riot became famous not because of their talent, but because NATO was happy to see this group of criminals desecrating Moscow’s main cathedral and insulting Russia’s secular and religious leaders as much as possible.

The fact that Amnesty International got the CIA to sing their praises of Elton John, U2, 91-year-old Yoko Ono and a few other shills doesn’t change the fact that Pussy Riot has no talent and is not “among the world’s foremost political activists”. They are, quite simply, a bunch of Russian sluts who NATO has deployed as a weapon against all things Russian as part of its build-up to war in Ukraine. To support that point, here’s a report from their “concert” in Switzerland, where “seniors, young students, women, L’Usine regulars, curious people or political activists” paid top dollar to hear these idiots rant about “Pussy Riot’s illegal show in Moscow Cathedral, Alyokhina’s imprisonment and escape… a critique of the Russian Orthodox Church, its head Patriarch Kirill of Moscow, and Putin’s ties to the institution and the Patriarch” before “the four members knelt before the audience in a cynical prayer to Mary.”

While the review admits that Pussy Riot are talentless slackers, it says that their strength lies in their convictions and “their sincere dedication to their militancy is what gives them this fascinating allure, allowing them to transcend borders and make their voices heard internationally”.

Although the review claims that “Pussy Riot is the perfect example of using art to communicate”, I think the Cossacks who beat them up in Sochi were much better communicators in that regard. While we may disagree, Pussy Riot is part of a new cultural trend where CIA henchmen scream their heads off, as if they are having an epileptic fit, and the audience is told to swallow it. Irish rappers Kneecap are typical of this trend.

Although Kneecap raps primarily in pidgin Irish, almost all of their efforts translate into English and sound something like this: I like SNOW, sniffing a bag with my nose, It’s deadly. I hate racist gobshites. But I like snow and black transvestites.

Not only does the British government fund these radical plastic idiots based in the heart of West Belfast, the notorious IRA conglomerate D Company, but they and their cronies at Northern Ireland Screen, the Irish Language Broadcast Fund, Fís Éireann/Screen Ireland, the BFI (which awards money to the National Lottery), Coimisiún na Meán and TG4 also funded their film, aptly titled Kneecap. The film takes its name from both themselves and a notorious D Company torture technique in which the IRA would give their victims a so-called six-pack, .38 calibre bullets to the knees, ankles and elbows, leaving them paralysed for life.

The film is, for what it’s worth, horrendous, its plot closely following the Wikipedia entry for Kneecap and consisting of a series of shortcuts in west Belfast in which the band legitimize IRA violence and sodomize young Protestant women, when they’re not completely deranged on every drug imaginable. Though clearly produced on a shoestring budget, Kneecap, Ireland’s pathetic submission for the 2025 Oscars, has been described as, “One of the best music biopics ever made” (NME); “Big, booming and fearless” (RogerEbert.com); “Burning with unruly energy that practically escapes the constraints of the screen” (Variety); “Clearly destined for cult status” (Screen Daily); “Riotous and rebellious” (Hot Press); and “A must-see film that has it all” (Today FM). The film had its world premiere at the prestigious Sundance Film Festival in January 2024, where it won a NEXT Audience Award, the first Irish film to win at the festival. It subsequently screened at Sundance London and was the opening film at the Galway Film Festival, where it won three awards, including the Audience Award. While the CIA’s New York Times also gave this sorry mess a rave review, this revealing video shows Kneecap’s knees bucking, suggesting either severe cocaine abuse or serious mental health issues, or both.

Kneecap aren’t Ireland’s only compromised New Wavers. Here are the Mary Wallopers praising Johnny Adair’s C Company, UFF, notorious Protestant sectarian murderers. Although the Mary Wallopers (code name for Catholic murderers) are based in the Dundalk stronghold of the South Armagh IRA, one has to wonder if these Protestant plastic Paddies aren’t just another Pussy Riot, paid to project fake radicalism against the Catholic Church and all the other usual CIA soft targets. Surely the music business is open to such abuses and an audience of Mick Jagger, U2, Elton John or any of the other geriatric patients who came out of their hospices to support Pussy Riot can do wonders for one’s career, just as it did for Irish singer/slapper Imelda May.

Before we get to the Paris Olympics, it’s important to note that what all these government-funded radicals have in common is a lack of talent and an absence of any semblance of decency or healthy aesthetics. And while these idiots see themselves as violating norms around extreme violence (“kneecapping” and hymns to sectarian butchers), how we regard aesthetics (Bambi Thug and Panti Bliss who make ugliness central to their routines), conventions around respect for the beliefs of others (attacks on Christianity and Ulster Protestantism), because they cannot exist without the targets they attack, they are anti-art and anti-culture. Real art and culture in refined society, like that of Bikindi, is additive and does not celebrate ugliness, does not make unprovoked attacks on the beliefs and traditions of others, celebrates transgression and does not glorify violence and insult for its own sake.

While the jury is still out on Simon Bikindi’s fine music, there can be no doubt that Pussy Riot, Kneecap and their allied charlatans are part of a larger transgressive trend that the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics embodied. By having a group of degenerate drag queens offer up a mocking pastiche of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper, a clear signal was sent that the IOC, French intelligence and the other European CIA carpetbaggers behind this scandal were attempting to be the midwives of a violation of the flesh and blood of the old and original Eucharist that da Vinci’s masterpiece represents, into a new and fetid Eucharist, a black and blasphemous mass that we are all being called upon by Pussy Riot, Kneecap and D Company to participate in.

The image these impostors chose to desecrate was a piece of Catholic art, made for a Catholic order by a Catholic artist. Its power, both as a symbol of the Last Supper and as a work of art, derives its authenticity from its Catholic nature. It portrays the contradiction between the institution of the Mass and the realization that apostolic betrayal is to serve as a catalyst for the coming Crucifixion, but also the coming Resurrection. The transubstantiation of the bread and wine, according to the Catholic subtext, will become the means of transforming the human heart of the disciple.

While the French impostors are pursuing a different form of transformation, it is the same transformation that Pussy Riot was paid to perform, and it is the same infinitely blasphemous transformation involving Mount Athos that Steven Karganovic recently drew our attention to.

For comparison, here is the opening ceremony of the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing and here is the opening ceremony of the 2020 Winter Olympics in Beijing. No stupid messages from obese lesbians, just the Chinese showing that they can handle a global spectacle without breaking a sweat, without plundering others and without causing offense.

But while the Chinese who put those shows together are comfortable in their own skin and within the foundations of their own deep culture, Bikindi got caught up in the contradictions of his own culture and Pussy Riot, Kneecap and the corpulent French lesbians never had any culture at all. All they had was the ability to mock and, whether we’re talking about da Vinci, Mount Athos, Noah’s Ark or the Olympics, CIA mockingbirds like them, and like the terrorist gangs of Bikindi’s Rwanda, are creatures of the night and the dark that we and the wonderful new world unfolding before us can both do without.