RAPTURE #2: The Power of a Word, that Can Destroy us All

WRITER: Matt Kindt 

ARTISTS: CAFU & Roberto De La Torre

COLORIST: Andrew Dalhouse

PUBLISHER: Valiant Entertainment

RELEASE DATE: June 21, 2017



I do not waste my time reviewing comic books that do not deserve to be reviewed. That time, for me, has gone.

I will not sit down, and write out another scathing review for a regressive comic book that is pushing, and praising, all of the evils that are currently plaguing the western world. I’ve done that already, and if you want to read those reviews, they are here, on my blog, and you are welcome to check them out.

Today, I look for solutions, not problems. I write my own stuff, and if you want to look at it just go onto Amazon and type ‘Mark Anthony Pritchard’ and ‘Red Pill Tales from the Alt-Right.’ I write about solutions, with positively and hope for real change. Let the problem writers continue to do their thing, because if at this point they are still writing about problems, it’s doubtful that solutions will ever be coming from anything that they write.

Comic books, as we all know, are predominantly leftist, and so the chances of finding solutions within their pages are rare, but still I look, hoping for a spark, for something that is addressing the problems, and occasionally, just occasionally, I find it.

Is Matt Kindt, writer of Rapture #2, a leftist? Looking at his twitter page it’s unclear. I assume that he is, but he’s also smart enough not to alienate over 50% of his potential readers by posting silliness about Donald Trump. He uses twitter to promote his work, and that’s undoubtedly the safest thing to do. Expressing anything that, even accidentally, promotes a (dare I say it) ‘right-leaning’ point of view in the comic book industry, would be heresy to leftist consensus, and you would be subjected to a weaponised ‘word’ that can destroy a career.

Let’s talk about that word, because in ‘Rapture #2’ the use of a word as a weapon is a central theme of the book. Here’s how it works. The comic book villains utter a word, a word that paralyses the heroes into passivity, allowing the villains to attack, and to defeat the heroes.

Now, let’s look at the real world parallels.

I live in the UK, a country that is currently being subjected to Islamist terrorist attacks. Every time one occurs, with blood, guts, and dead bodies littering the streets and concert halls, the response, from the mainstream media, the political establishment, and those on the left (they are the same people) is always the same. They tell us to carry on as before, to come together, to light candles, hashtag support, and repeat that it’s not ALL Muslims who are doing this, so we mustn’t criticise the Ideology that is causing it.

And if the people do criticise that ideology, what happens? The media, politicians, pop-stars, and cultural leaders use one word to pacify the population into helpless passivity, and that word is- ISLAMAPHOBIA.

One word can destroy a country. That is what is happening here in the UK, and all over Europe as well.

Does Matt Kindt understand this? I do not know, but what I do know is that in ‘Rapture #2’ he is saying something that cannot be said in liberal/progressive circles. For that alone, I applaud him, and recommend (to everybody reading this review) that they purchase an issue of this superior comic book.

The art (with it’s beautiful colouring), the characters and the story itself in ‘Rapture #2’ are all excellent, but that is not why the book is essential. Enjoy the surface, enjoy the prettiness, but think on the deeper meaning, think on what is being said here, think on the UK, on Europe, and the power of a word that can destroy us all.


Rating: 10/10 (Essential reading)

VON - Dark Gods: Birth of the Architects (Join me on the Mountain Top)

Musical accompaniment is needed for the disaster movie of our times, as we witness western societal collapse into moral and cultural relativism, and the inevitable consequences befalling a society that no longer has any shared moral or spiritual bonds to shield it from attack. ‘Dark Gods: Birth of the Architects’ by ‘VON’ is an essential gift to the watchers of this ongoing, self-inflicted farce/tragedy, a moment in time where we can witness the fall of an entire civilisation. Unfortunately for us, that civilisation is our own, and the collapse, enabled by the left, pushed in schools, colleges, boardrooms, and on our television/movie screens, books, comic books and newspapers, is happening right NOW.

Listen to the sounds of decay, as VON take you back to where it all began, with mother, choices, and the reawakening of demonic forces that were there from the very beginning of humanity. In self-satisfied, virtue signalling deference to evil we invited them back in, allowed them to feed, and now, sated, they have began to set fires to our hollowed out institutions, accelerating the collapse of all that was built by men far better than ourselves. 

So sing along with VON as the world falls apart. Wail in despair at all that we have done, and how we took the architecture of western civilisation for granted, and so easily, lazily, apathetically, and with ignorance masquerading as virtue, gave it all away to ancient enemies, from the outside, and (to our everlasting shame) from within.

Dante in Hell, observes frozen traitors to their own people.

-To the nothing that we have become:


Atomised, so easily defeated into individualism, a bottom of the caged barrel concept, where trapped animals dig claws into the only companions that they will ever have.

Man built, listened to the enemy, and elevated the least worthy. Children reared by government strangers. Generation snowflake screams about safety, but can never be safe, in hashtag era of nailbomb inevitability, an era inheritance from boomer, into nihilism and relativism collapse.

Drugged children grow up into drugged adults, from Disney and Ritalin, to career, mortgage, debt, politics, television, and pills for anxiety and depression.

Why depressed? Why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel so empty?

Oh God twitter, why do you never reply to my lonely prayer call?

Dying boy, in bedroom, stasis the Internet, and fucking conspiracy theories. Daddy is gone, and mommy does not care. Free and independent, curtains drawn, in government containment camp he browses for answers, moribund, hidden from his neighbours, and the sun outside.

Councils and Bilderbergs rear political puppets that masquerade as choice, to the animals on the farm.

Hey George, Tony, Oh Tony.

Old left zombie re-birth. Rebel alliance, girls and blacks on television, movie screens, fuck it, you better say it now kid.

Boy, you better start talking. Friendless anyway, as end time looms, we all die alone.

Culled, easily, bedroom casualty, walking towards stickman, tax stick, electronic, the currency will kill us all. So easily convinced, but convenience is death. Annihilation sold as a benefit. We wanted it, invited the vampire in, and now she does what the vampire does, sucker, she sucks.

It all returns to mother, shielded from criticism by a word, and from velvet slippered choice we began to descend, into empowerment of weakness and guilt, so sowing the seeds of our own destruction. We did it all for her, but now look at what she has done to us.

Enemies invited in, by dear in power mother, as our new Roman Empire collapses, into relativism, dampened fires rekindled, old fires that were there from the beginning.

‘My truth’ means never a true word spoken, and Godless as we are, ‘truth’ becomes an opinion, and deceit cancers us all.

Oh, reap now, farmer of lies, for the harvest of no opinion truth is upon us.

From invasions, to conspiracies, compromise, convenience, tolerate the trucks of peace, death, into tombs of never was, with eternity pissing on the grave of a Godless, nihilistic, empty, divided people, judgement time is NOW.

So we, the culpable masses, we finally did it.

Stripped naked on the altar of progression, doused in Sunni petroleum, with Karl smiling from the pit below, a flame arose from the heart of us all, and western civilisation roared into flame.

In death, I spit out the fumes of burning corpse surrender, step outside of the flesh melting pain, into soul, with judgement hanging over what I have both seen, understood, and done.

Oh my God, here I am, waiting, it was so hot down there, and the people didn’t care, and the flames of self-deceit increased in temperature, slowly, then quickly, engulfing them all, and I could not help, though I tried, and I tried.

But now, my end begins, no more struggle, no more lines, they fade as judgement time is here, and eternity beckons before me, as lawyer word time finally ends, forever.


(‘Dark Gods: Birth of the Architects’ by VON: A soundtrack for the end of western civilisation, can be purchased, below. Buy it, and sit with me here, for a while, on the rise of Mount Purgatory, watching the city below, in all of it’s multicultural diversity, surrendered in hashtags and love, as it's culturally enriched with trucks, stabbings and nailbombs, and the people watch in paralysed impotence as everything that was built up through generations of sacrifice and courage is burnt to the ground, and all for the fear of a six letter word that silences us all.)

https://riseofvon.bandcamp.com/album/von-dark-gods-birth-of-the-architects-12-booklet-edition-digital-album

The climb had sapped my last strength when I cried:
"Sweet Father, turn to me: unless you pause
I shall be left here on the mountainside!"

He pointed to a ledge a little ahead
that wound around the whole face of the slope.
"Pull yourself that much higher, my son," he said.

His words so spurred me that I forced myself
to push on after him on hands and knees
until at last my feet were on that shelf.

Purgatorio, Canto XXXI: