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“It makes no difference to me whether Eumeswil is ruled by tyrants or demagogues. Any man who swears allegiance to a political change is a fool, a facchino for services that are not his business. The most rudimentary step toward freedom is to free oneself from all that. Basically each person senses it, and yet he keeps voting.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil

“Our city teems with sons who have escaped their fathers in a similar way. Usually, this remains obscure. The Oedipal relation­ship is reduced to a malaise between individuals. The loss of esteem is inevitable, but people get along with one another.

Moreover, I am troubled less by my background than by the respect that my old man demands on the basis of his paternity. He cites a credit that is not his due: the fact that fathers, rulers, professors once lived and deserved this name. Nowadays, that is nothing but a rumor.

When he swaggers, I sometimes feel like reminding him of the map room and the tricks he harassed my mother with. She shel­tered me from him in her cavern just as Rhea shielded her Zeus against the gluttonous Cronus.

Naturally, I avoid making this chess move; I am aware, here too, of imperfection, which torments me. There are truths that we must hush if we are to live together; but you cannot knock over the chessboard.

I owe my restraint partly to Bruno, whose course also covers magical and even practical conduct. He said: "If the words are about to flee your lips, then reach toward the left side of your chest for your wallet. You will then save your joke; it will accrue to your capital. You will feel your heart."

That is how I act with my dad. At such times, I am even over­come with benevolence. This is also my advice to Vigo when he wants to parry hateful criticism by giving tit for tat.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil

“The fact that I forgo having a father precisely because I do not recognize him as my genitor is an altogether different matter. I seek a man for whom I can feel respect. This is possible even in Eumeswil, albeit exceptional. One finds spiritual foster fathers. The bonds one forms with them are stronger than those of blood.

Of course, such a statement must be handled with care, for a material substratum will always be present. In this respect, one owes one's father the link to an infinite network. In the act of procreation, he celebrates a mystery that is unknown even to him. His intrinsic nature might perish in it. Thus, we could be more closely related to an uncle or a distant forebear than to him. Genealogists and also biologists are familiar with such surprises; they often shatter their system. The genetic burden is endless; it reaches all the way into the inanimate world. It can bring forth creatures that died out long ago.

This digression may indicate why I prefer adoption to natural kinship. The fatherhood becomes spiritual; we are chosen rela­tives and not natural ones. Thus, Eros must also prevail in spiri­tual kinship; adoption is a more sublime repetition of godfather­ing. We pick the godfather, the pater spiritualis; and he recognizes himself in us—he accepts us. That is a contact to which we owe life, albeit in a different, an—I dare say—immortal manner. I do not wish to speak of the heart; this is not the right place.

My birth and the surroundings in which I was put may explain why I felt this kinship with three academic teachers, three profes­sors. If I had had a vocation for craft, art, religion, war, I would have had different models—and different ones again had I opted for a criminal career.

During the tuna fishing, I watch the rais and his fishermen performing the drudgery; their obedience is simply the equip­ment of the trust that binds them to him; he is their leader, they have elected him. More fatherhood is to be felt here—even when he treats them severely—than when I sit with my old man, who swims in stagnant waters.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil

“Dalin will not get very far. Such types try to hoist a boulder that is much too heavy for them. They are crushed when it slides back. Moreover, they draw attention; often they fall victim to the first cleansings. They do not know the rules, they even scorn them. They are like people who deliberately drive on the wrong side of the road and want to be applauded for doing so. The anarch, in contrast, knows the rules. He has studied them as a historian and goes along with them as a contemporary. Wherever possible, he plays his own game within their framework; this makes the fewest waves. Thus, Dalin's liquidation would presumably be consistent with the system that he defied. But that is not the basis for my legitimation. One might erroneously assume that I take bloodshed lightly. Not by along shot! I simply stay free of moral judgments. Blood has its own laws; it is as untamable as the sea.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil

“Mulling it over that evening, I had to agree with him. Dalin embodied the anarchic nihilist, a type that is not all that rare. What was special about him was that he not only reacted with a general malaise, he also thought about it. Of course it made a difference whether he shot someone from the front or from the back—a difference not in the effect, but in the self-affirmation.

I have noticed that a cat will turn up her nose at a piece of meat if I hand it to her, but she will devour it with gusto if she has "stolen" it. The meat is the same, but the difference lies in the predator's delight in recognizing itself.

The anarchic nihilist is not to be confused with the socialist revolutionary. His aversion is not toward one person or another but toward order per se. Asocial and apolitical, he represents the destructive workings of nature. He would like to accelerate them. Compared with even the modest methods of our tyranny, Dalin seems like a kind of Don Quixote tilting at windmills. What was accomplished when a train derailed, a bridge exploded, a depart­ment store burned to the ground? True, one has to see this in different terms—say, as a paltry sacrifice to the delight of the powerful Shiva. A chemist seldom knows precisely what he is doing.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil

“The anarch learns how to read and write if and when it pleases him. Many children are drawn to a book by innate curiosity. Charlemagne was still illiterate after many years of ruling his tremendous empire. Even when associating with scholars like Alcuin and Peter of Pisa, he had not gotten very far with writing; after all, he had more and better things to do. It is unlikely that Homer knew how to write; the letter inhibits free singing. At any rate, caution is indicated when a boat leaves the sea and glides into the canals—the most dangerous thing of all is numbers. As a historian, I depend on the written word; as an anarch, I can do without it.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil

“The carnivorous man recognizes the existence of the world of slaughterhouses, warfare, bloodshed. If he denies them, then he is sitting on the wrong horse. He must give up either his beefsteak or his thinking. On the other hand, the world lives on erroneous ideas. Here in Eumeswil, one sees tremendously potbellied sheiks who would not hurt a fly. Yet someone somewhere is slaughtering and thinking for them, too.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil

“They found no mischief in me. I remained normal, however deeply they probed. And also straight as an arrow. To be sure, normality seldom coincides with straightness. Normalcy is the human constitution; straightness is logical reasoning. With its help, I could answer satisfactorily. In contrast, the human element is at once so general and so intricately encoded that they fail to perceive it, like the air that they breathe. Thus they were unable to penetrate my fundamental structure, which is anarchic.

That sounds complicated, but it is simple, for everyone is anarchic; this is precisely what is normal about us. Of course, the anarch is hemmed in from the first day by father and mother, by state and society. Those are prunings, tappings of the primordial strength, and nobody escapes them. One has to resign oneself. But the anarchic remains, at the very bottom, as a mystery, usually unknown even to its bearer. It can erupt from him as lava, can destroy him, liberate him. Distinctions must be made here: love is anarchic, marriage is not. The warrior is anarchic, the soldier is not. Manslaughter is anarchic, murder is not. Christ is anarchic, Saint Paul is not. Since, of course, the anarchic is normal, it is also present in Saint Paul, and sometimes it erupts mightily from him. Those are not antitheses but degrees. The history of the world is moved by anarchy. In sum: the free human being is anarchic, the anarchist is not.”
― Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil