Savages. Filthy Savages. And Fallen Oaks.

I use the term "savages" rather freely, to denote the various aboriginal peoples and their rude habits. In our hyper-thenthitive age, people often look at me askance, as if in my calling someone a savage, I am calling them evil or less-than-human.

However, this is not the case at all. Half of my own ancestry is savage, and many of my countrymen are still savages, especially in the North (not to mention our swamp-dwelling cousins in the Netherworlds or our half-breed cousins on the island). Not all of my fellow Teutons are still savages, and we have the Patron of today's feast to thank for that (Danke Sehr, Heilige Vater Boniface). In fact, last year one of our tribe was elected to the most civilized office in the world. Pretty good for a bunch of unruly Barbarians from the other side of the Alps, which, as everyone knows, is not fit for human habitation.

Anyway, many years ago St. Boniface chopped down the Sacred Oak of Wotan. He ended up martyred for it, and his blood, mixed with a little bit of Roman culture that rubbed off on the aborigines up there, became the seed for a great faith and a great civilization. As I have been doing the research for my presentation on Giotto, I keep coming up with examples of the "revolutionary" traits of Giotto - from a hundred years earlier in Germany!

From scratching themselves en route to hunt Celts for sacrifice to a people who gave the world great art, architecture, music, machinery, science, poetry, all of this can be attributed to the civilizing elements of the Catholic Faith, seeded by the blood of St. Boniface.

However, the spores of savagery remained in pockets of soil that were somehow shielded from sunlight, where rot and decay fed them and allowed them to Reform. The first obvious sprouts of the mold of Satan were in the dark priest, Fr. Martin Luther. From those sprouts dropped the leaves that rotted, making the fertile soil for acorns of the Unholy Oak of Wotan. Further fertilized by the rot of the leaves of Protestantism, the Oak of Wotan grew and grew, eventually taking over the forest of Germany, under the leadership of a particularly poisonous druid whose name was a modernization of Atawulf, the Wolf Father, who saluted that which was celebrated from the mouth, in joy.

Even before the Oak grew to full strength in Neopagan Germany, those spores of savagery, like a toxic mold, spread throughout Europe and America, leaving a trail of death, democracy, endarkenment, degeneracy. The Eldest Daughter of the Church was laid low, left sickly, the butt of jokes, grasping on to what remains of her dignity, with what remains of her Catholic population.

The good knights of Europe and America finally went to battle the Druid Atawulf, but so infected with the spores themselves that, although they conquered the savages of Wotan (who probably did themselves in with visions of Gotterdaemerung), they allowed the Oak's nasty cousin to come in from the east, and when they went home, their children gave themselves over completely to Oak worship, although they call the Oak by names other than Wotan, rather Diversity, Tolerance, Acceptance, and they perform their twisted rites under its branches, especially in Massachussetts and California, but also in Spain (the horror!), in Denmark, in the Netherworlds.

Even in Churches dedicated to St. Boniface, you can find the Gospel of the Oak preached, even by wayward sons of St. Francis. A member of a penitential order denies the sacrament of confession so that his congregation can feel more comfortable in their Oak worship!

St. Boniface, intercede for us poor savages, though we deserve the axe ourselves! Let your Volk remember the seed of your blood and let one rise among us to chop down the Oak once again! Pray for us that God may cleanse Germany and all of Europe, in Europe as well as in America, of the spores of Satan, the Curse of Protestantism, the acorns of paganism!

We were all savages once, although it has been so long for some people that no one can remember what it was like for them to have been savages (which made them the target of the neo-savages). Some have climbed out of the forest of savagery recently and some are leaving the greatest civilization known to man to go back to the forest. When one has come out of the forest, one is out of the forest, and is of equal level of civilization to those who have been out of the forest for generations, and is in a better state than those who, bored, alienated by their own wretched philosophies, smug, and wanting an easier moral direction, crawl back into the woods of savagery and despair.

Those who were born savages, in a savage land, to a savage culture are in a better state than those who crawl back to savagery after knowing a better life.

St. Boniface, Pray for Us!