Bikers of the Steppe
Jason Lupus and Brendan Heard.
In ancient days on the Eurasian steppe, horse-back conquerors brought conquest and fear everywhere they roamed. They revered lightning gods, wore cattle-leather, and terrified the steppe with the thunder of hooves and horns of war.
Today motorcycle gangs are the remnant ghostly manifestation of this spirit, conquering the strange alleyways and desert roads of the evil techno-edifice, refusing to be the sedentary slaves to bourgeois bureaucrats. The only element they lack is a more rigorous and colloquial mytho-poetic conception of the cosmos, though many have a zen or even Christian concept of godhood, a more specific cult might be allowed to form if they were unshackled from FBI surveillance and settled influence for a series of generations. Then might form a road-world connected to immortal deities, the spirits of dead motorcycle heroes, and the elementals of a parallel empire of open highways, populated by roadside temples.
While the motorcycle is associated with outlawry and banditry, the bike clan has an association with warrior codes, and thereby a kind of quasi-knighthood, albeit an individualist, psychedelic, and sensationalist one. But being free and being ready to fight and not answering to a master is how they respect the order of the gods, as nomadic warriors. A freedom the steppe charioteers must have felt.
What our biker clans of today need is more time and freedom to develop, as did The Macedonians, the Scythians, the Etruscans, to turn inward and husband an even tougher (higher) ascetic. A mytho-poetic perspective which connects the steppe to heaven. These knightly bikers need the straight line and the points between to conquer the sedentary squares, and consecrate the road behind as captured territory.
“In opposition to what psychiatrists, psycho-analysts and ‘social workers’ think—in a society, a civilization, like ours, and, especially, like that of the USA—one must in general admit that the rebel, the being who does not adapt, the a-social being, is in fact the sanest man.”—Julius Evola, “Youths, Beats & Right-Wing Anarchists”