I have been writing something all my life. Be it prose or poetry, I got hooked on lining up my thoughts horizontally using subjects and verbs as weapons, very early. Most was negligible. But that doesn’t matter to one driven to do this “writing” thing. I even had some stuff published in periodicals of various sorts over the years. It’s fun for me. Like a “poser” author.
I even declared it as a major in college. Well…English Lit, for a couple years. Took creative writing courses. Learned the proper way to communicate using the written language. I didn’t use much of what I learned…but you have to know the rules to break them effectively, I think. So many things got in the way, however. Mentally weak, I guess. Too much so, to set aside the temptations of life long enough to pursue writing as a real vocation. Oh well, maybe in my next life. But wait.
Out of the blue I got an offer for a book deal. Wow. A publisher friend-of-a-friend offered to put out a collection of my essays from this site. I then started to learn how many concessions are required to sell your prose. Change this. Add to that. You can’t say that. Arrange this differently…ad frustratum.
It became a forbidding business deal…or more like a poker game. “I’ll see your title, and raise you a foreword”.
So much of this took place in a short span of negotiations, that I began to wonder exactly what it was of mine that I was about to allow to be published. I understood, for example, the two-year ordeal that Harper Lee went through with editors to get “Atticus” on the bookshelves. I think it can become like that. A work, an idea…can be a battle to get to print. Battles, I have enough of. But it did give me the idea, after eventually turning down the original offer to have my stuff printed as a book…to self-publish. It’s a new century after all. We don’t have to kowtow to a(kosher) publishing establishment that have their own ideas about the story you want to tell. So, I gave it a shot. Not easy, I can tell you. I have instantly gained a great deal of respect for editors and am learning that book marketing people don’t just sit around on their hands in their chosen vocation. I am learning a lot through this experience and I’m sure there are more lessons to come. But I am doing it.
So I finally got this book printed. I am the publisher. I couldn’t be happier with the contents. The advantage of self-publishing is that everything you want…you get. This can also be a drawback. I have gone through several horribly time-consuming total revisions just to get this project where it is. And now I learn that to market it anywhere other than here, I have to do an entirely new revision to make it align with industry standards mechanically, concerning definitive margin size, page numbering codes, software backups…etc. I figure I will jump off that bridge when I come to it. And it looks like I am just about to.
So far the sales are astounding me. Way more than I expected already and the book hasn’t even been in print a week. Neat! To those of you that have already purchased my little foray into publishing, I thank you sincerely. To those that are aware of it, but are waiting for reviews…they are starting to roll in (review attached at bottom).
I’m going to break my arm from so much self-back-patting here…but I actually sat down and read my book…and I liked it. Me. The guy that doesn’t much care for my own writing after the fact. The guy that always thinks that I could have said it better. I actually got a charge and quite a few chuckles out of reading my own book! I know…what hubris. What inflated self-adulation, huh? Well, I am going to allow myself this tiny bit of pride…just this once.
But my self-assessment goes deeper than that. It is also the statement that I am trying to make. Take or leave my prose styling, you gotta acknowledge the sheer in-your-face-ness of the book. And I’m also a bit proud to have made my contribution to fighting the jewish powers that be and marketing it in “their” world. For that is the statement I am attempting with this latter-day effort of publishing my thoughts on paper. And no matter how many copies are distributed over time, I can rest assured that I haven’t just jabbered in the cyber-netherworld about doing something tangible(as I am wont to do)…I am doing it. And sometime in the future, my family will be sitting around the Thanksgiving dinner table… and I won’t mind if they remember the crazy guy by the book(s?) he published.
Now at this point I have a few accolades to pass out to my friends. I want to thank all that have helped me in this effort, by linking my book on their sites. I am humbled by the support I have gotten from: Veritas, Les Visible, Noor, Kenny and Dr. Lasha Darkmoon. These folks are true friends by going out on a limb for me and hawking my wares without even having read the book. I am truly grateful for the trust they have placed in my publishing mission, sight-unseen. You don’t come across people with such confidence in others every day. I thank you all…and hope my effort does not disappoint your followers that purchase the tome through your suggestion. If there is anything I have always lacked, it is the ability to self-promote. It is nice to know that others will do that for you. Again…thank you.
How Dare I: Collected Essays On The Destructive Force of Judaism
A book review of TJ Chaney’s long-awaited volume of essays on the Jewish Problem. Better known to his friends as “Timster”, TJ Chaney has written a series of essays that will help to illuminate the darker corners of the Jewish psyche, thereby causing consternation in certain quarters and increasing this talented writer’s slowly growing notoriety.
If you want to live a dull and boring life and die ignorant in bed, don’t buy this book! It’s not for you. But if, on the other hand, you are ready to experience the shock of the new and feel a tingle of excitement run down your spine from ideas that are as original as they are outrageous, then this is the book for you.
Buy it, borrow it, steal it, but whatever you do — READ it!
— Lasha Darkmoon
HOW DARE I: Collected Essays on the Destructive Force of Judaism, reviewed by “J”
Until my path crossed with TJ Chaney’s, I was conditioned to believe the MSM’s “ideal” of what an anti-semite is supposed to be.
Images of pissed off burly guys and women with “tudes” about the state of things. Loners. People who are angry for uncertain (usually racist) reasons and ambitious to a dangerous fault for the same wrong reasons; essentially, those who should be ostracized. You know, the ones your mother warned you about.
I never really had any use for such conversations. Or such people. Hatred, division, racism, greed, violence and all their filthy cousins and relatives are nothing but poison. Period.
You can love people, but not their actions.
I’ve always been quite cautious about jumping on wagons. Generally, they are moving too fast, and I don’t have all my shit packed. But that’s beside the point. My introduction to TJ was happenstance at best.
I stumbled onto his path and decided to stay for a bit. Least give him a shot. He sounded intelligent. But I wasn’t buying what he had to say. Even today, I am skeptical. I can’t make the leap. Yes, I am afraid of heights, but that’s nothing to do with it. I just wanna make sure the cause I am jumping for is all it seems. Cause if I’m gonna get hurt or die from the impact at the bottom, it better be worth it or I’ll be very unhappy.
Intrigued is the only word that comes to mind at the moment. He dropped names, like Corrie, Frank, King, and on and on. It was the world according to TJ. And I wasn’t buying it. Don’t get me wrong, I was fascinated. But the pieces wouldn’t fit right in my head, or my heart. What do you mean the history books aren’t accurate? People lie? Really? (Ok, I’m not THAT naïve, but it can be a shock when you learn things aren’t right and those in charge of telling you the right thing are mistaken or purposely misleading.)
On the surface, the stories he told made sense, but the longer I would think about them the more twisted the avenues became and all sorts of cracks and (what I perceived to be) potholes would emerge. There was NO WAY I could come to terms with a huge Master Plan. Not something this intricate. So blatantly obvious, yet somehow still subtle, to the oblivious public.
I have faith in the Human Race, but none of us have that kind of time on our hands. Tell them what they wanna hear, not what they need to know. First came the blog. Then, long discussions. And, now, the book.
“An attempt to lead you down a twisting path to that place of my understanding of all things judaic.”
We are all busy with our lives. Gazing into the funhouse mirrors (television, advertisements, movies, blah blah blah) I see how this Influence TJ speaks of could be left to fester … but … where to begin to understand?
The collected How Dare I essays are a great place to start. Exploring the deeply rooted ties through his eyes; TJ’s made a study of watching the Monster mature to the beast manning the Veil.
I applaud his courageous statement in the face of what he terms to be a cult-like racism disguised as religion. There’s definitely something amiss. But I’m still not convinced of an all encompassing Master Ideal . . . Complete with a lil Mini-Me; his pinkie finger poised to the corner of maniacal lips stifling the stereotypical Evil Laugh.
The Essays offer a crisp look through the eyes of an all but casual observer. From early experiences to present day, TJ offers a good mix of angles, perception and possibilities. Make no mistake, the words he’s penned are more deeply rooted than mere tangents and musings. I don’t doubt he is onto something, but I ask for more.
I own no silverware. I refuse to be spoon-fed.
I don’t care if the words fall from the lips of the most revered, well-known personality in the world. And, fortunately or unfortunately, however one chooses to look at it, TJ is no different.
I invite all those who feel the same to give the Essays a chance. Hop, skip, jump or read straight through. Whatever the case, I know you will walk away with a starting point, something that strikes a cord. That cord may not be in tune initially, but sleep on it and revisit.
Use your hands and dig. Use the Essays as they’re intended. A jumping off point.
TJ is not your teacher.
He is not my teacher.
In fact, I don’t think he even holds a teaching license if you wanna get technical about it.
He is merely an observer who has found the courage to speak up.