towards art but push them
away from art into their revolting, sentimental vocal and instrumental
applied art, which is bound to repel their pupils. There is no cheaper artistic taste than that of teachers. Right from primary school, teachers ruin the pupils' artistic taste, they drive all art out of their pupils from the start, instead of elucidating art, and especially music, to them and making it a lifelong joy. But then the teachers are preventers and destroyers not only in matters of art, the teachers have always, all in all, been the preventers of life and existence, instead of teaching young people how to live, of deciphering life for them, of making life for them into a truly inexhaustible wealth of their nature, they kill it in them, they do everything to kill it in them. Most of our teachers are miserable creatures whose mission in life seems to consist of barricading life to the young people and eventually and finally making it into a terrible disillusionment. After all, it is only the sentimental and perverse small minds from the lower middle class which push their way into the teaching profession. The teachers are the henchmen of the state, and seeing that this Austrian state today is a spiritually and morally totally crippled state, one which teaches nothing but brutalization and corruption and dangerous chaos, the teachers, quite naturally, are also spiritually and morally deformed and brutalized and corrupt and chaotic. This
Catholic state has no understanding of art and hence the teachers of this state have none, or are supposed to have none, that is what is so depressing. These teachers teach what this Catholic state is and instructs them to teach: narrowmindedness and brutality, vileness and meanness, depravity and chaos. There is nothing the pupils can expect from these teachers other than the mendacity of the Catholic state and of the Catholic state's power, I reflected while observing Reger and simultaneously, through Tintoretto's
White-Bearded Man, gazing into my childhood. I myself had these dreadful unscrupulous teachers, first rural teachers then urban teachers, and again, in turn, urban teachers and rural teachers, and I was ruined by them well into mid-life; they ruined me for decades to come, did my teachers, I reflected. They gave me and my generation nothing but the hideousness of the state and of a world spoilt and destroyed by that state. They gave me and my generation nothing but the repulsiveness of the state and of a world marked by that state. They gave me, just as the young people of today, nothing but their unreason, their incompetence, their dull-wittedness, their brainlessness. My teachers have given me nothing but their incompetence, I consider. They have taught me nothing other than chaos. For decades ahead they have, with the utmost ruthlessness, destroyed in me everything that had originally been in me to be developed, with all the potential of my intelligence, for the sake of my world. I myself had these appalling, narrow-minded, degraded teachers who have a thoroughly low opinion of human beings and of the human world, the lowest opinion decreed by the state, namely that nature must always and regardlessly be suppressed in the new young people and eventually killed for the purposes of the state. I too had those teachers with their perverse recorder playing and their perverse guitar strumming, who forced me to learn a sixteen-stanza Schiller poem by heart, which I always felt to be one of the most terrible punishments. I too had those teachers with their secret contempt of humanity as a method
vis-à-vis their powerless pupils, those sentimentally grandiloquent henchmen of the state with their raised forefinger. I too had those feeble-minded mediators of the state, who several times a week caned my fingers with their hazel switch until they were swollen and pulled my head up by my ears so that I never overcame my secret fits of crying. Today the teachers no longer pull ears nor do they cane pupils' fingers with hazel switches, but their sick mentality has remained the same, I see nothing changed when I watch the teachers marching past the so-called old masters with their pupils, they are the same people, I reflect, as I had, the same who ruined me for life and destroyed me for life. This is how it has to be, this is how it is, the teachers say and they do not tolerate the least opposition because the Catholic state does not tolerate the least opposition and they leave their pupils nothing, absolutely nothing, of their own. These pupils are simply force-fed with state refuse, no differently from the way geese are force-fed with maize, and the state refuse is forced into their heads until these heads are chocked. The state believes that
the children are the children of the state and it acts accordingly and has, over the centuries, produced its devastating effect.
The state in fact gives birth to the children,
only state children are being born , that is the truth. There is no free child, there is only the state child, with whom the state can do what it pleases, it is the state that brings the children into this world, their mothers are merely made to believe that they bring their children into the world, but
it is the state's belly from which the children come , that is the truth. Hundreds of thousands come out of that state belly each year, as state children, that is the truth. The state children come into the world from the state belly and they go to the state school, where they are worked on by the state teachers. The state gives birth to its children into the state, that is the truth, and it retains its hold over them. Wherever we look we see only state children, state pupils, state workers, state officials, state pensioners, state dead, that is the truth. The state produces and permits only state people, that is the truth. Natural man no longer exists, there is only state man, and where natural man still exists he is persecuted and chased to death and/or turned into state man. My childhood was to the same extent a beautiful as it was a cruel and horrid childhood, I now reflect, when, being with my grandparents, I was allowed to be a natural person, whereas at school I had to be a state person, at home with my grandparents I was a natural person, at school I was a state person, half a day I was the natural person and half a day the state person, half a day, in the afternoon, I was a natural and hence a happy person, and half a day, in the morning, I was a state person and hence unhappy. In the afternoon I was the happiest, and in the morning the unhappiest person imaginable. For many years, in the afternoons, I was the happiest person that can be, and in the mornings the unhappiest, I now reflect. With my grandparents at home I was a natural happy person, down there at school, in the provincial town, I was an unnatural unhappy person. Walking down into the provincial town I was walking into (the state's!) unhappiness, walking home towards the mountain, home to my grandparents, I was walking into happiness. Walking up the mountain to my grandparents I was walking into nature and into happiness, walking downhill into the provincial town and to school I was walking into un-nature and unhappiness. In the morning I went straight into unhappiness and at noon or in the early afternoon I returned to happiness. School is the state school, where young people are turned into state persons and thus into nothing other than henchmen of the state. Walking to school I was walking into the state and, since the state destroys people, into the institution for the destruction of people. For many years
I walked from happiness (of grandparents) into unhappiness (of the state) and back again, from nature into un-nature and back again, my whole childhood was nothing but this toing and froing. Amidst this childhood toing and froing I grew up. But the victor in this diabolical game was not nature but
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