Undoubtedly, one of the most magnificent racial souls that ever walked the Earth once thrived on Greek soil. From their genes, they created immortal works that still bear witness today to a luminous, creative power. The figures of Pallas Athena and Apollo are the expression of a pure, exalted race that revealed a glimpse of the divine through its art. It was this Greekness that draws us to the West, a homeland of the spirit, born from Nordic essence. Yet even then, the Greek character carried a vulnerable point, a certain softness and imagination that made it susceptible. The Greeks stood with one foot in Asia and the other in Europe, a dangerous condition that threatened the purity of race and spirit. So what had to happen came: raw Asian skepticism and dark superstition toppled the ancient gods from their Olympus, and with them fell the racial foundation of this once-proud people. The Greeks perished because of their pitiful traits. Their moral essence had grown too old and rotten to withstand the onslaught of foreign mentalities and foreign blood. What we today call Greeks is merely a sad remnant, an echo of that former greatness. Only a few individuals still bear witness to that racial soul that once created the immortal works of sculpture and architecture. Anyone walking with open eyes through the streets of Greece today sees not the heirs of Pericles, but a people fragmented and eroded by countless influences. Dark figures and the legacy of Asian influences have reshaped the once heroic visage. History is relentless: where race mixing happens, culture dies and a people sinks into insignificance. Ancient Greece perished through the shame of mixed blood.
