On the Faustian Penguin

A parable of solitude, transcendence, and imperial will in the Antarctic.

James Doone on the metaphysics of a penguin who refuses the herd.

Quo Vadis Aptenodytes forsteri?

A huddled mass of Antarctic creatures stands in fear at the prowling horde of orcas seeking fresh meat around the feeding grounds. The penguins fear the hunters, but they risk the whales to feed on fish for their sustenance.

However, one stands alone. One Faustian being, one brave and solitary warrior, revolting against the modern world of the penguin technocrats with their bureaucracy and managerial regime. He stands tall and with a noble, masculine gaze away from the mass of the penguin hoi polloi and regards the tall Gothic spires of the mountain. As a true son of Hyperborea, he yearns for the spire reaching into the heavens. He feels the call of the adventurer to discover virgin lands. He wants to conquer the vastness of space… why? Because it is there.

The lumpenproletariat cannot understand this mindset of giving up comfort, luxury, softness and vice for a life, a journey, a crusade of suffering, hardship, and possible death, for the midwit seeks only base animal pleasure, whereas the ascetic seeks out the transcendental and the arcane. A penguin who cannot control his passions is a slave to him, whereas the penguin who masters his base instincts becomes a truly free being. The puny penguin mind cannot understand a life lived not for a full belly, or a comfy chair, or endless slop at fast food chains, but a life of self-sacrifice, for God, or for tribe, or for honour. The way of the Samurai is anathema to the lib.

The penguin knows his bushido—his way is the way of the warrior. This penguin shall go down in history. In the annals of the future, the progeny of man shall write great tales about this lone, determined crusader, giant among penguins, archon of his species. His road is tough, cold and harsh, for the life of a penguin is Hobbesian in its brutality. The penguin is forged in the Stalinist forestlands of the USSR-style landscape. In Vorkuta, penguins are all brothers. With no sword, nor map, nor lantern to guide him, brave stout pinguinus charges at the solid rocky mountain, some say to his doom, but those weaklings cannot grasp the vision and imperial will of the penguin.

This great primarch of penguins shall bring nature to heal, bring order to chaos. This penguin marches to the song of destiny. His muse is the challenge of victory. He goes to death and glory; he goes to fulfil his fate; he goes to a strenuous life; he goes to greatness. Be thou well, o pinguinus magnus. We Faustian men sit by our fires and think, How is the great penguin getting on on his journey? Penguin, we salute you.

In the grim darkness of the penguins’ future, there are only orcas.

— The Great Penguin

Orthodox Kyle on YouTube has a great video named Nihilist Penguin Is Actually Christian:

Addendum

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This meme of the penguin comes from a 2007 documentary by the German director Werner Herzog entitled Encounters at the End of the World.