The final movement of Beethoven’s immortal Fifth Symphony (conducted by my new favourite composer, Herbert von Karajan, in the video above) is a heart-stopping finale to one of the greatest works of musical composition in all of human history. It is also, for me, the soundtrack of my personal struggle and triumph over adversity, and over the tenebrous terror and destructive falseness of Marxism, in all of its sonorous, resonant pathos. There is a reason why great artists like Shostakovich were persecuted by the degenerate Soviet regime, which knew not what to do with creative genius other than to stamp it into the ground with the bureaucrat’s iron heel. But like the weather-beaten flower that sprouts every spring, come what may, and arises from its seasonal, subterranean obscurity to bloom in triumph over the resentful rocks and soils of the earth, so has my soul escaped from its too-long intellectual and emotional captivity.
Who, after listening to a full rendition of any of Beethoven’s magisterial symphonies, or any other great work of classical music, will replace the heavenly harmonies and the stirring strings of these soul-shaking masterpieces with the inane chants and tuneless renditions of ‘Solidarity Forever’, ‘Bandiera Rossa’ and other ditties of socialist revolution at the nauseating indoctrination sessions that are regularly convened by Trotskyist cults? Someone who has undergone a heavy amount of brainwashing, perhaps. Alan Woods is fond of claiming that under capitalism, music has declined from the heights it reached during the 18th and 19th centuries. This is manifestly nonsense, but even if true, there is no reason to believe that a socialist society would see any sort of artistic flourishing. If the IMT ever seizes power, we are highly unlikely to see any new Beethovens. Quite the opposite.
To be a free spirit is hard but is always worth it. No price is too high. Now, the golden sun of life has arisen once more out of the mists of delusion and ideological confusion, and I am determined to fly up and away from decadence towards my radiant orb of fortune. And if, like Icarus, my wings melt and I fall, I will plunge into my sea-green grave, smiling, knowing that I at least dared to dream, and did not, like other men, remain mentally imprisoned by the trap of false conscience, false law, and false authority.