Carlos Kenneth Chudwell: The Reactionary SyndicalistOriginal language: English
Original publication: 1790s (fictional)
Written by: George Kenneth Chudwell (fictional)
Translated by: N/A
License of this version: Unknown
Other language versions: N/A
Link to PDF: N/A
Other links: N/A
Carlos Kenneth Chudwell: The Reactionary Syndicalist is a old book created by George Kenneth Chudwell (1740-1800), the nephew of Carlos Kenneth Chudwell.
- CHAPTER 1: First Steps
- CHAPTER 2: Reactionary Society of Chudwell
- CHAPTER 3: The Revolutionary Killers
- CHAPTER 4: The Eternal Reactionary Fight
First Steps
It was on November 8, 1689, when my uncle, Carlos Kenneth Chudwell, was born. I'm writing this a month after his death on October 6, 1796, at the age of 106. He lived longer than his doctors expected. My uncle received regular care and was assassinated by revolutionaries who stabbed him in the stomach, leading to his death a day later.
My uncle often told me, "never trust someone who wants you to change," which is why I became a reactionary and a unionist like him. My mother, my uncle's sister, told me everything about him, although she provided a rather brief biography. Therefore, I researched more about my uncle, whom I admire greatly. I delved deeply into his life. In fact, while researching in his diary, I read that he eradicated corruption. I'm sure he did eliminate corruption!
Not only that, but I also read in his diary that crime decreased by 60% during 1770 and 1780. Even my uncle states in his diary that he put an end to the dissident faction. Undoubtedly, my uncle, Carlos Kenneth Chudwell, was a reactionary, unionist, and popular king.
If only they hadn't assassinated him in that revolution...
His early steps into politics were when his father, Peter Kenneth Ürhem, died when my uncle was nineteen years old. And since his father passed away, my uncle Carlos Kenneth Chudwell assumed the position of Monarch of the Kingdom of Benvaska. Those were his first steps in politics, governing a country at a very young age.
The Reactionary Society of Chudwell
The Reactionary Society of Carlos Kenneth Chudwell—my uncle—was based on a hierarchical society where the State and the Church went hand in hand. Homosexual marriage was prohibited as it was deemed against God's will.
In the Reactionary Society of Carlos Kenneth Chudwell, the motto of Benvaska was "Only God and the King," as Benvaska was then a monarchy where criminals or those who disobeyed the King were executed by hanging. In fact, according to Article 16 of the constitution of the Kingdom of Benvaska, the military, police, and guards had the right to end the life of any individual deemed a threat. In other words, if someone was an atheist, they were to be executed, or if they behaved strangely, they were to be executed.
We must reinstate the Reactionary Society of Carlos Kenneth Chudwell in order to restore the old Benvaska. We must put an end to those disgusting revolutionary murderers of the Federal Party, especially Ernesto Lavalier, who killed Carlos Kenneth Chudwell with his weapon. We must react. We must establish Reactionary Syndicalism. Whoever is reading this must react against the Federal Party.
We understand that the traditional monarchy—and only the traditional monarchy—should be the system of our nation. We will combine monarchism with corporatism for the sole purpose of ending the Revolution. We will be monarchists, and we will be absolutists.
I understood two things from my uncle:
- We need a traditional and absolute monarchy.
- We need a government filled with syndicates.
And those are the two principles of Reactionary Syndicalism.
One of the problems with the dissolution of the monarchy is that now they judge you for everything. I remember once I went out into the street screaming and started burning my clothes: that made people call me crazy, and I got arrested.
The Revolutionary Killers
The damned revolutionaries... Damnit revolutionaries...! The damned revolutionaries killed my uncle Carlos Kenneth Chudwell. Is there any reason? —you might wonder—. And no. No reason at all! Those swine killed my uncle. They deserve death! Just as my uncle said: "Never trust in changes," and he was right! Changes—whether fast or slow—are bad. Tradition must be upheld. The damned revolutionaries killed my uncle and threw me in jail for not burning my clothes in public. Is it wrong to burn clothes...? —I wonder—. And no, I don't think so.
So, it's the revolutionaries whom I hate and despise because they've taken away my free thinking — by killing my uncle — and robbed me of my freedom — by locking me up for burning my clothes. And now, what's left? Are they going to take away my bread too? Believe it or not, they are impoverishers. And yes, I know that even though poverty has decreased, and I still live in my mansion, it doesn't mean they're not impoverishers. I won't argue why they are impoverishers because... because I already know, and if I know, it's true!
Moreover, they lowered inflation. I don't know what inflation is, but it surely was something good! Also, they brought those free schools. Surely they want to impoverish us with those schools. Yes, definitely! And why does no one talk about them killing my uncle? I mean, he was my uncle, and yet they didn't talk about him; instead, they celebrated when he died. Do they know he was a good man? Yes, he was. Yes, he was. Yes, he was. Yes, he was. Yes, he was. Yes, he was. Yes, he was. YES, HE WAS. YES, HE WAS. YES, HE WAS.
The Eternal Reactionary Fight
This is a poem.
In ancestral eras, where steel sliced through the air,
an ancient society, fertile in its desire to conquer.
The roar of war, an anthem of bravery,
where valor was woven with threads of madness.In the veins of the past, violence danced,
a love for strength, where blood painted.
Souls forged in the flames of battles,
where cruelty and power were medals.Ancient society, heart of steel and hatred,
where strength ruled, and the weak were spoils.
In the dark maelstrom of chaos and dominion,
a violent, fierce, and divine love is exalted.War cries like ancient chants,
where brutality was a prodigious art.
The shadows of the past, an echo of longing,
a ruthless love for the ancient spear.On the threshold of time, the clamor resonates,
for an era that has passed but lives with fervor.
May this poem, like a leaf in the wandering wind,
reflect only shadows, not the vibrant present.
When the reactionaries fight and shout:
Long live Benvaska and long live Carlos Kenneth Chudwell!
Unite, reactionaries!