Friday, February 29, 2008

The Perils of Democracy

I heard an interesting remark today from some caller to NPR, of all places, reference the mess in Iraq: "Democracy got us into trouble, but apparently it can't get us out."

He's starting to catch on.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Don't Encourage Them

"Why do the people humiliate themselves by voting? I didn't vote because I have dignity. If I had closed my nose and voted for one of them, I would spit on my own face."

-Oriana Fallaci

"I never vote. It only encourages them."

-Little old lady from Vermont

Wednesday, February 27, 2008


You know, these little nicknames I give our Lords and Masters aren't just Harold being cute. Satire and mockery can be brutally effective weapons, and if we can ever get these names out into circulation among the masses (or Them Asses as Daniel De Leon called them) then something as simple as a sardonic sobriquet can actually have an effect on history.

The problem is, you guys have got to get your asses out of passive mode, quit just sitting in front of your computers and viewing for entertainment like it was a TV, and you've got to start posting and let people know that blogs like this one and ideas like ours are out there.

I've been calling that high-yellow nigger the Obamanation, which isn't original with me, and also Hussein, which is actually the monkoid's middle name and which is already being overused by the neocons. He needs a new one that's all ours, and it needs to be spread all over the internet.

For the record, our official Roll Call from the Ministry of Funny Names is as follows:

Bill Clinton - Billyboy
Hillary Clinton - The Sea Hag, Mommy Dearest
Chelsea Clinton - The Brat
George W. Bush - Jug-Ears, Mini-Me
Rudy Giuliani - Caligula
John McCain - Mr. Potato Head
Barack Obama - The Funky Monkey

I wish I had some kind of audio capacity so I could rig up a cut from that old 80s song "Shoot The Monkey" every time his face appeared on the screen. Or would that be pushing the envelope to excess?

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

The Joys of Black Rule

[Since it looks as if our own country is about to go completely insane and launch our own experiment in “Rainbow Rule,” I thought it might be instructive for us to take a good look at what we’re in for. - HAC]


The lights are literally and figuratively going out all over South Africa as crime, corruption and mismanagement push the rainbow country towards becoming another failed african state.

By Fred Bridgland in Johannesburg

AFTER BATHING in the warm, fuzzy glow of the Mandela years, South Africans today are deeply demoralised people. The lights are going out in homes, mines, factories and shopping malls as the national power authority, Eskom - suffering from mismanagement, lack of foresight, a failure to maintain power stations and a flight of skilled engineers to other countries - implements rolling power cuts that plunge towns and cities into daily chaos.

Major industrial projects are on hold. The only healthy enterprise now worth being involved in is the sale of small diesel generators to powerless households but even this business has run out of supplies and spare parts from China.

The currency, the rand, has entered freefall. Crime, much of it gratuitously violent, is rampant, and the national police chief faces trial for corruption and defeating the ends of justice as a result of his alleged deals with a local mafia kingpin and dealer in hard drugs.

Newly elected African National Congress (ANC) leader Jacob Zuma, the state president-in-waiting, narrowly escaped being jailed for raping an HIV-positive woman last year, and faces trial later this year for soliciting and accepting bribes in connection with South Africa's shady multi-billion-pound arms deal with British, German and French weapons manufacturers.

One local newspaper columnist suggests that Zuma has done for South Africa's international image what Borat has done for Kazakhstan. ANC leaders in 2008 still speak in the spiritually dead jargon they learned in exile in pre-1989 Moscow, East Berlin and Sofia while promiscuously embracing capitalist icons - Mercedes 4x4s, Hugo Boss suits, Bruno Magli shoes and Louis Vuitton bags which they swing, packed with money passed to them under countless tables - as they wing their way to their houses in the south of France.

It all adds up to a hydra-headed crisis of huge proportions - a perfect storm as the Rainbow Nation slides off the end of the rainbow and descends in the direction of the massed ranks of failed African states. Eskom has warned foreign investors with millions to sink into big industrial and mining projects: we don't want you here until at least 2013, when new power stations will be built.

In the first month of this year, the rand fell 12% against the world's major currencies and foreign investors sold off more than £600 million worth of South African stocks, the biggest sell-off for more than seven years.

"There will be further outflows this month, because there won't be any news that will convince investors the local growth picture is going to change for the better," said Rudi van der Merwe, a fund manager at South Africa's Standard Bank.

Commenting on the massive power cuts, Trevor Gaunt, professor of electrical engineering at the University of Cape Town, who warned the government eight years ago of the impending crisis, said: "The damage is huge, and now South Africa looks just like the rest of Africa. Maybe it will take 20 years to recover."

The power cuts have hit the country's platinum, gold, manganese and high-quality export coal mines particularly hard, with no production on some days and only 40% to 60% on others.

"The shutdown of the mining industry is an extraordinary, unprecedented event," said Anton Eberhard, a leading energy expert and professor of business studies at the University of Cape Town.

"That's a powerful message, massively damaging to South Africa's reputation for new investment. Our country was built on the mines."

To examine how the country, widely hailed as Africa's last best chance, arrived at this parlous state, the particular troubles engulfing the Scorpions (the popular name of the National Prosecuting Authority) offers a useful starting point.

The elite unit, modelled on America's FBI and operating in close co-operation with Britain's Serious Fraud Office (SFO), is one of the big successes of post-apartheid South Africa. An independent institution, separate from the slipshod South African Police Service, the Scorpions enjoy massive public support.

The unit's edict is to focus on people "who commit and profit from organised crime", and it has been hugely successful in carrying out its mandate. It has pursued and pinned down thousands of high-profile and complex networks of national and international corporate and public fraudsters.

Drug kingpins, smugglers and racketeers have felt the Scorpions' sting. A major gang that smuggle platinum, South Africa's biggest foreign exchange earner, to a corrupt English smelting plant has been busted as the result of a huge joint operation between the SFO and the Scorpions. But the Scorpions, whose top men were trained by Scotland Yard, have been too successful for their own good.

The ANC government never anticipated the crack crimebusters would take their constitutional independence seriously and investigate the top ranks of the former liberation movement itself.

The Scorpions have probed into, and successfully prosecuted, ANC MPs who falsified their parliamentary expenses. They secured a jail sentence for the ANC's chief whip, who took bribes from the German weapons manufacturer that sold frigates and submarines to the South African Defence Force. They sent to jail for 15 years a businessman who paid hundreds of bribes to then state vice-president Jacob Zuma in connection with the arms deal. Zuma was found by the judge to have a corrupt relationship with the businessman, and now the Scorpions have charged Zuma himself with fraud, corruption, tax evasion, racketeering and defeating the ends of justice. His trial will begin in August.

The Scorpions last month charged Jackie Selebi, the national police chief, a close friend of state president Thabo Mbeki, with corruption and defeating the ends of justice. Commissioner Selebi, who infamously called a white police sergeant a "f***ing chimpanzee" when she failed to recognise him during an unannounced visit to her Pretoria station, has stepped down pending his trial.

But now both wings of the venomously divided ANC - ANC-Mbeki and ANC-Zuma - want the Scorpions crushed, ideally by June this year. The message this will send to the outside world is that South Africa's rulers want only certain categories of crime investigated, while leaving government ministers and other politicians free to stuff their already heavily lined pockets.

No good reason for emasculating the Scorpions has been put forward. "That's because there isn't one," said Peter Bruce, editor of the influential Business Day, South Africa's equivalent of, and part-owned by, The Financial Times, in his weekly column.

"The Scorpions are being killed off because they investigate too much corruption that involves ANC leaders. It is as simple and ugly as that," he added.

The demise of the Scorpions can only exacerbate South Africa's out-of-control crime situation, ranked for its scale and violence only behind Colombia. Everyone has friends and acquaintances who have had guns held to their heads by gangsters, who also blow up ATM machines and hijack security trucks, sawing off their roofs to get at the cash.

In the past few days my next-door neighbour, John Matshikiza, a distinguished actor who trained at the Royal Shakespeare Company and is the son of the composer of the South African musical King Kong, had been violently attacked, and friends visiting from Zimbabwe had their car stolen outside my front window in broad daylight.

My friends flew home to Zimbabwe without their car and the tinned food supplies they had bought to help withstand their country's dire political and food crisis and 27,000% inflation. Matshikiza, a former member of the Glasgow Citizens Theatre company, was held up by three gunmen as he drove his car into his garage late at night. He gave them his car keys, wallet, cellphone and luxury watch and begged them not to harm his partner, who was inside the house.

As one gunman drove the car away, the other two beat Matshikiza unconscious with broken bottles, and now his head is so comprehensively stitched that it looks like a map of the London Underground.

These assaults were personal, but mild compared with much commonplace crime.

Last week, for example, 18-year-old Razelle Botha, who passed all her A-levels with marks of more than 90% and was about to train as a doctor, returned home with her father, Professor Willem Botha, founder of the geophysics department at the University of Pretoria, from buying pizzas for the family. Inside the house, armed gunmen confronted them. They shot Professor Botha in the leg and pumped bullets into Razelle.

One severed her spine. Now she is fighting for her life and will never walk again, and may never become a doctor. The gunmen stole a laptop computer and a camera.

Feeding the perfect storm are the two centres of ANC power in the country at the moment. On the one hand, there is the ANC in parliament, led by President Mbeki, who last Friday gave a state-of-the-nation address and apologised to the country for the power crisis.

Mbeki made only the briefest of mentions of the national AIDS crisis, with more than six million people HIV-positive. He did not address the Scorpions crisis. The collapsing public hospital system, under his eccentric health minister Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, an alcoholic who recently jumped the public queue for a liver transplant, received no attention. And the name Jacob Zuma did not pass his lips.

Last December Mbeki and Zuma stood against each other for the leadership of the ANC at the party's five-yearly electoral congress. Mbeki, who cannot stand again as state president beyond next year's parliamentary and presidential elections, hoped to remain the power behind the throne of a new state president of his choosing.

Zuma, a Zulu populist with some 20 children by various wives and mistresses, hoped to prove that last year's rape case, and the trial he faces this year for corruption and other charges, were part of a plot by Mbeki to use state institutions to discredit him. Mbeki assumed that the notion of Zuma assuming next year the mantle worn by Nelson Mandela as South Africa's first black state president would be so appalling to delegates, a deeply sad and precipitous decline, that his own re-election as ANC leader was a shoo-in.

But Mbeki completely miscalculated his own unpopularity - his perceived arrogance, failure to solve health and crime problems, his failure to deliver to the poor - and he lost. Now Zuma insists that he is the leader of the country and ANC MPs in parliament must take its orders from him, while Mbeki soldiers on until next year as state president, ordering MPs to toe his line.

Greatly understated, it is a mess. Its scale will be dramatically illustrated if South Africa's hosting of the 2010 World Cup is withdrawn by Fifa, the world football body.

Already South African premier league football evening games are being played after midnight because power for floodlights cannot be guaranteed before that time. Justice Malala, one of the country's top newspaper columnists, has called on Fifa to end the agony quickly.

"I don't want South Africa to host the football World Cup because there is no culture of responsibility in this country," he wrote in Johannesburg's bestselling Sunday Times.

"The most outrageous behaviour and incompetence is glossed over. No-one is fired. I have had enough of this nonsense, of keeping quiet and ignoring the fact that the train is about to run us over.

"It is increasingly clear that our leaders are incapable of making a success of it. Scrap the thing and give it to Australia, Germany or whoever will spare us the ignominy of watching things fall apart here - football tourists being held up and shot, the lights going out, while our politicians tell us everything is all right."

Monday, February 25, 2008

Chapter XVII. - Taking Down Tinsel Town

[A timely excerpt from The Brigade, by H. A. Covington]

No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i’ the world.

Hamlet – Act III, Scene 2

On a dark night in the following January, a high-level NVA conference convened in a private home in Westport, Oregon. Present were Red Morehouse, First Brigade Commandant Tommy Coyle with both of his urban battalion COs Bud Lawlor and Larry Donner, as well as Second Brigade Commandant Harry Hannon with his two battalion captains Mark Conway and Art McNeill. Lieutenant Wayne Hill and Lieutenant Charlie Randall represented the Third Section, with a nervous Captain Zack Hatfield and Lieutenant Charlie Washburn of Third Battalion acted as Mine Hosts. Once the men were all seated in the capacious living room of the safe house, and mugs of coffee or soft drinks distributed all around, Red opened the meeting. “Everything copacetic in the neighborhood, Zack?” he asked.

“We’ve got almost forty Volunteers outside and up and down the road, and patrolling the woods around and about,” Hatfield told them, taking his seat and taking off his broad-brimmed hat. “I’m not taking any chances. We made a concealed stand up on that little bluff behind us, and we’ve got a specially mounted twin M-60 rig and a couple of crack riflemen with infrared night sights in case any helicopters try to buzz us, but with all due respect, sir, I think we need to get through whatever it is you need to get done, and then break this up. I’m not happy about having this many of our people in one place, especially this many senior officers. The Wild Bunch has pretty much put the fear of God into anybody who might be inclined to drop a dime on us, but with this many bodies there’s bound to be some kind of accidental observation the longer we stay here, if only from Eye In The Sky satellites with infrared heat sensors. They can always send a Predator drone out here just on spec. I know you well enough not to have to say this, but this had better be important enough to justify this kind of risk.”

“It is,” Morehouse assured him. “All right, let’s get on with it, then. You all understand, I’m speaking for the Army Council now. I am going to be detailing a major strategic initiative, and the words top secret don’t even begin to cover the security we have to maintain on this until we’re ready to pop the top. First the bad news, and that is that I’m going to have to ask you guys for some of your best men, at least two dozen of them, maybe more, to be sent on detached duty for an undetermined amount of time. After a lot of consideration, the Portland brigades have been selected to put together a special active service unit for a series of highly sensitive and risky operations, the first extensive campaign the NVA has mounted outside the Northwest Homeland itself. The name of this unit will be Task Force Director’s Cut. Its mission will be to neutralize one of the prime weapons that ZOG has in this war, which is the Hollywood movie, media, and entertainment industry, and to render that industry as useless to the enemy as we can possibly accomplish. Put bluntly, we are going down to Hollywood, and we are going to take the Dream Machine apart at the seams.”

There was a low round of chuckles and approving grunts and comments. “Do we get to volunteer?” asked Conway. “I need to work on my tan.”

“I’ll need a cover job as a waiter or a soda jerk so I can be discovered by a big Jew producer,” said Lawlor. “Full frontal nudity is no problem.”

“I get dibs on wasting that obnoxious hebe Bert Steinfeld,” said McNeill, naming a well-known Hollywood leading man of the Mosaic persuasion who claimed to be a karate black belt and former Green Beret, a claim disputed by the United States Army, and who specialized in tough-yet-sensitive cop roles where he and his black or female or gay sidekick beat up on wicked white racists of various kinds while laying on snappy witticisms and one-liners.

“That’s one reason we’re here, to start working out the nuts and bolts,” said Morehouse. “Gentlemen, I don’t have to tell you that ever since the invention of the motion picture over a century ago, the movie industry has been the most completely Jewish field of private enterprise in the world, with the exception of international banking and the stock exchange. Even today, Yiddish is considered to be Hollywood’s second language. Literally so. It is spoken regularly on movie lots and sound sets, and in every office and casting department and boardroom. The senior executive office complex of every major production studio contains a private synagogue or chapel called a mincha, with one or more rabbis attached, as well as special glatt kosher catering facilities and kitchens. Entire boards of directors in Hollywood and also at their parent companies in New York sometimes hold Jewish religious services prior to meetings. Every crucial, non-technical job on the business and creative end of any major movie is either held by a Jew or is in the power of a Jew, from the studio heads, the producers and the directors, down to the scriptwriters, the casting directors, the agents, the accountants, and anything to do with the money. Even in areas that seem to be controlled by Gentiles, you will find that somewhere along the line during the process, Jews have crucial input and veto power. This control by the Tribe is pervasive and complete, and it extends into television as well, with the exception of two of the major cable networks, which are heavily Jewish in their senior personnel but are owned by consortiums of super-wealthy Protestant evangelical Christians of the Israel-worshipping, neo-Zionist persuasion, major neocons and Republican party backers, who are in their own way even more poisonous in their evil than the Jews themselves, because they have no excuse for turning on their own blood.

“I do not need to tell you of the terrible and largely irreversible damage that Hollywood has done to the white race and to Western civilization over the past century. For four generations, the international bankers and the corrupt politicians have committed unspeakable crimes against humanity, especially the war after war after bloody war they have plunged our people into for Jewry’s sake, but it is Hollywood and Hollywood’s mutant bastard spawn television that has made the white people of America and the world swallow these atrocities and actually support them with enthusiasm. It is Hollywood that has spent the past 50 years pushing every conceivable kind of perversion of body and mind down the throats of white people. It is Hollywood that has turned the loathsome practice of homosexuality into something cute and trendy, the subject for silly jokes, when it is in fact a poison of the very soul. It is Hollywood that has turned white women as portrayed on film into either mindless sex objects, or else de-gendered, masculinized, man-hating neurotics. It is Hollywood that has poisoned the minds and broken the spirits of generation after generation of white children who are now beyond recovery, and turned them into whiggers. The bankers have stolen our money. The federal government of the United States has stolen our lives and our freedom and soaked the earth with Aryan blood, spilled to save a filthy race of Asiatic parasites. But Hollywood has stolen our peoples’ minds and souls, and in some ways that makes Hollywood more evil to my mind even than the sinks of iniquity centered in New York and Washington, D.C. Comrades, we will go down to southern California, we will grip this monster by the throat, and we will cut its heart out!” There was a cheer from around the table; the men found the project to their liking. “At this point I’ll turn the floor over to Lieutenant Hill,” said Morehouse.

“Thank you, Red, and isn’t this a great audience in our studio tonight?” There was a chuckle from the assembled men. “I need to begin by explaining just what has precipitated this operation, which by the way, has been designated Operation We Are Not Amused,” said Hill. There was more laughter. “Obviously, any revolutionary movement within North America has to deal with the Hollywood problem at some point or other, and it’s always been on our back burner, even back in the pre-10/22 days of the old Party. But for the past several years, our main problem has been survival on the streets of our own land. Although we have taken on the printed and electronic local media here in the Pacific Northwest and largely neutralized them as an effective weapon for the occupiers, we haven’t had the time and the manpower and the resources to go for the very root of the problem, that cesspool down in Los Angeles. That’s changing now. It’s pretty obvious that barring some catastrophic event, the NVA is here to stay as a permanent feature of Northwest life, and for us, to survive is eventually to win. The time has come for us to take our offensive for balance in the media right into the belly of the Beast.

“As odd as it may seem, in view of the rubbish they put on the tube about us every night, we’ve actually been surprised by just how relatively restrained the reaction of the Hollywood establishment has been to events in the Northwest. Restrained by their standards, anyway. The news programming originating outside the Northwest is pure government propaganda, of course, since they think we can’t get at them in New York or Atlanta or Los Angeles. Especially the cable TV talking heads. We get the sarcastic needling jokes by the late night celebrity show hosts, and there have been a few television episodes in various series dealing with the main characters fighting wicked racism in the Northwest and heroically saving cute little black babies and kiddies in yarmulkes from the Satanic racist revolt during the Sixteen Days, that kind of moo, but all things considered, the treatment that we’ve gotten at Hollywood’s hands hasn’t been nearly as vile an outpouring of hysterical hatred and incitement as we might have expected.”

“Yeah, I kind of noticed that myself,” spoke up Donner. “They’re just being snide and vicious, not full-bore screaming. Why do you think that is, Lieutenant?”

“A couple of subtle and complex reasons,” said Hill seriously. “First, we need to realize that Hollywood is not a monolith. As in all empowered élites, there are a number of competing and antagonistic factions within the top echelons, bitter personal feuds and conflicts of interest, and all kinds of wheels within wheels. Mostly these factions are concerned with personal prestige and wealth, and the acquisition and use of what was, up until Coeur d’Alene, real power in this society, i.e. media power, money power, and political power emanating from La Cesspool Grande on the Potomac. There are a lot of people of power in Hollywood, men and women, Jewish and otherwise, who are genuinely opposed to President Clinton and her clique for a wide variety of reasons, some ideological, others personal. You will notice that the slant of some of these television shows that have in fact come out over the past two years about events in the Northwest have not been so much about how wicked and evil we are—that’s taken as a given in the Hollywood ethos and our people are portrayed as simple stereotype villains—but how bumbling and incompetent and compromised Hillary and her government and her FBI are in the face of their increasingly obvious inability to do anything about us. There are also a lot of people in the industry who are really concerned that Hillary is going to throw the Constitution out the window and set up what amounts to a Presidency for Life.”

“Word is she’s going to put Chelsea in the Oval Office to warm her seat for her, while Mommy Dearest keeps on calling the shots,” said Morehouse. “I don’t know, though. Chelsea is so completely hopeless that I’m not sure the Sea Hag could get even this brain-dead electorate to swallow her.”

“Sir, you’re talking about a nation of people who actually re-elected George W. Bush in 2004, when everyone knew perfectly well that he had lied to the whole country to make up an excuse to invade Iraq and begin this horror show in the Middle East that hasn’t left us since then,” Hatfield reminded him. “There is no limit to the stupidity of the American electorate.”

“Point taken, Cap,” said Morehouse with a chuckle. “But Lieutenant Hill is correct in that so long as we don’t start shooting them, there are empowered people in Hollywood who, although they would never come right out and say it, don’t really mind having us around as a stick to beat Hillary with. They have fallen into the error of believing their own stereotypes about us. They don’t take us seriously and in the insulated, incestuous and self-absorbed world of Hollywood, it’s simply inconceivable to the empowered élite that we can win, so they don’t see us as a long-term threat to their own wealth and position.”

“But now we are about to start shooting them,” Harry Hannon interjected.

“And that’s another reason I think they’ve gone comparatively lightly on us since 10/22,” said Morehouse. “I said that the Hollywood élite don’t take us seriously as a long-term existential threat to their world, but remember, they live in a kind of money-fortified Green Zone down there, surrounded by criminals, junkies, black and Mexican and Vietnamese gang-bangers, and psychos of every stripe. Men with guns they can wrap their minds around. These people aren’t fools, comrades, and like all Jews they have a very highly developed personal sense of danger awareness and an almost instinctive threat assessment. They understand that we don’t like them or their filthy movies and boob tube, and that it wouldn’t take much provocation for us to come down there out of our northern forests and take a crack at them.”

“From the fury of the Northmen, good Lord deliver us?” said Hatfield.

“Exactly,” said Hill, nodding in agreement. “They’re taking precautions, against us and against their own environment, which ironically they have helped to create with their own crapulence. One of the biggest industries right now in Tinseltown is high-powered and discreet bodyguarding, personal, home, and corporate security. If you’re an ex-cop or ex-FBI you can write your own ticket down there. The stars’ homes have been fortified for years anyway, because of stalkers and gang-bangers and the general parade of lunatics that comes out under every southern California full moon, but now every studio and every lot and every office building in the industry is almost like Stalag Thirteen, surrounded by electrified fences and razor wire, with checkpoints and armies of hired goons patrolling the grounds, guard dogs, security clearances for various levels of employees, electronic surveillance everywhere, you name it.”

“But it’s not just simple fear that’s made Hollywood go a little easy on us so far,” Red Morehouse said. “I don’t want to get metaphysical, but Hollywood has always been the American ruling establishment with its heart on its sleeve, and southern California has always taken point in the culture wars, openly and brazenly, so you can read them like a book. And I can sense a deep and definite malaise. The Jewish and liberal establishment down there is not just afraid, they’re puzzled, disturbed, confused. They don’t know what to make of us quite yet. They’ve never seen white men act like this before—hell, no one in living memory has seen white men act like this before. Comrades, even if we were all wiped out tomorrow, the NVA has managed to achieve one incredible accomplishment, something that for the entire twentieth century, no one ever thought was possible. We have reintroduced the gun into American politics, the ultimate fount of all law and political power.”

Morehouse smiled and shook his head in admiration. “For the first time since the Civil War, the United States of America no longer has a credible monopoly of armed force, and that fact has thrown the whole ruling élite in this country for a loop, unbalanced them. Jews, Senators, judges, sheriffs, prison guards, lawyers, bureaucrats, corporate CEOs, asshole bosses, arrogant teachers and professors who destroy kids’ lives for a politically incorrect remark, faggots and dykes who corrupt and seduce teenagers, liberal and neo-con talking heads on TV, federal house niggers who are used to Mau-Mauing the honkies and seeing us tremble, all of these people who were once cock of the walk are now having to adjust, to come to grips with the fact that they can no longer just do any damned thing they please. If a tyrant in a black robe or sitting behind some government desk or directing a movie camera fucks over white people, there is now at least some chance that he will be shot for it, that he will be punished, that he will be held responsible. You can’t imagine how completely freaked out these arrogant ruling élitist sons of bitches are over this, and in Hollywood, where the Burger Kings, the Big Kikes, are neurotic as hell anyway under the best of conditions, we see signs that they are going quietly bonkers with paranoia. Those Hollywood Men of the Nose in their boardrooms and their jacuzzis and their limos, with their little twenty-room hideaways in Carmel and their reserved tables at the plushest restaurants, and their special trailers on set with the casting couches for blonde shiksas, know damned well that their turn is coming.”

"Which is why they may have decided to strike the first blow,” said Wayne Hill. “For reasons we have not been able to determine yet, the movie industry’s hands-off and go-slow policy regarding the NVA over the past two years seems to have been abandoned. This appears to have occurred several months ago at a hush-hush weekend house party at the Beverly Hills mansion of Sid Glick, the head of Paradigm Studios, attended by over 50 people. The guest list included other studio czars, industry CEOs, independent producers, directors, screenwriters, and some major actors and actresses. All without exception were Jewish, and according to our sources down there, even the caterers, the masseurs, the cocaine dealers and the poolside prostitutes were all Jewish, provided by a specialty madam in Bel Air. Whatever was discussed that weekend by Sid Glick’s swimming pool, and in his hot tub, and on his private handball court was not for goyische ears. The results of that meeting weren’t long in coming.”

Hill opened his briefcase and took out two large, bulky typescripts hand-bound in heavy cloth report covers. He handed them around the room. “About a month ago, Third Section came into possession of two highly classified documents from the Dream Machine down there. Both of these are movie scripts. Each studio copy of these preliminary scripts is numbered, a number you will see that I have effaced in these photocopies. The first, the blue-bound one, is from World Artists, chairman of the board Manny Gelblum, Senior Vice President in Charge of Production Hyman Landauer, you get the idea. This script has the working title Great White North, written by two top-echelon Hollywood writers, Josh Horowitz and Andrea Franken, and it’s being pushed through WA by the producer David Katz, with Arthur Bernstein slated to direct. This abortion is up to the slimiest Judaic standards, needless to say. It’s the story of a wicked and evil NVA terrorist who discovers to his horror that he’s really Jewish, and so he ends up returning to his Jewish roots and turning over his whole brigade to the feds, led by a sassy and charismatic black FBI agent with a lame white sidekick for comic relief, and of course his Strong Womyn supervisor. In the closing scene the rabbi places a yarmulke on this character’s head in a prison synagogue while he’s in chains in an orange jump suit, and he weeps for joy at having found peace at last as they take him away to the needle room to be executed.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” snarled Larry Donner in disgust, throwing the script on the table.

“We’ll take your word for it, Lieutenant,” said Lawlor.

“You don’t need to eat all of a bad egg to know it’s rotten,” said Hannon contemptuously. “The smell is enough.”

“Yeah, well, if that one smells, this one in the brown cover reeks like the sewers of Calcutta,” said Hill. “It’s from Mammoth Productions, which is a subsidiary of Sid Glick’s paradigm and run by his brother Shlomo, but this one has Sid’s fingerprints all over it. The working title is Homeland, and I won’t even try to describe the plot to you. It is a compendium of every anti-racist, anti-Nazi, anti-white cinematic cliché since To Kill A Mockingbird. We are not just wicked and evil. We’re ugly and fat, or else alcohol-skinny, usually covered with prison tattoos, we have black teeth and body odor and we fart and pick our noses, we’re psychotic killers and craven cowards, we bomb babies, we’re all closet queers of course, and needless to say we abuse white women—in fact, the flick opens with a group of so-called Volunteers gang-raping a beautiful blond white girl whom we suspect of being an informer and then cutting her up with a chain saw. Do you want me to go on?”

“We get the picture, Lieutenant,” said Hatfield grimly.

“If we’re all supposed to be queers, then how do we come to be gang-raping women?” asked McNeill sarcastically.

Morehouse raised his finger bookishly. “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. Ralph Waldo Emerson.”

“You need to understand that these are not just made-for-TV movies or B flicks that will hit the theaters for three weeks and then go to DVD,” Hill told them. “These are going to be the biggest blockbusters Tinsel Town has put out in years. They have both been granted starting budgets of one hundred million dollars each. Virtually every speaking role in both movies will be played by a major or minor star. Some of these are only cameo roles or walk-ons, and they’ve got every once-famous has-been from the past twenty years lined up for the parts, even some old coots from the 80s and 90s they’ve dug up out of retirement or some nursing home. Mary Steenburgen is playing an old lady in a wheel chair, Ted Danson’s doing a wino and Melissa Rivers is playing a Yiddishe grandmama, with a nice long shawl to conceal her colostomy bag. The opening titles will read like a Who’s Who of Hollywood for the past quarter century; the casts alone will draw audiences since almost everybody’s favorite star is bound to be in there somewhere. And get this—they’re digging into the old archives and they’re going to be including some gratuitous dream sequences and fantasy scenes and whatnot with old movie footage never before seen, outtakes from Casablanca and Citizen Kane and old Westerns, so they can legitimately give new credits to old stars like Bogart and Bacall, Charlton Heston, Orson Welles, John Wayne, Glenn Ford and Jimmy Stewart.”

“Jesus, that’s overkill!” exclaimed Lawlor.

“Yeah, but can you imagine what the playbill is going to look like?” Hill asked. “It’s a blatant trick, but it will work. People will go see these damned things just to see Charlie Chaplin, Marilyn Monroe, Robert DeNiro and Brad Pitt do a scene together, and to watch all those hams falling all over the set trying to upstage one another. Needless to say, these pictures will be given the very best cameramen, sound men, grips, and crew in the industry, the most skillful cinematographers and set designers, top-notch special effects and fight coordinators, the zonks. They’re already scouting Northwest-looking locations for outdoor shooting, in Colorado, around the Great Lakes and in New England. They have sense enough to stay away from the Homeland itself, of course, and they’re doing their damnedest to keep it all hush-hush. They know how we’re going to react. As if it was ever possible to keep any secret in that goldfish bowl down there! But this is what’s coming down the pike, comrades, and if we don’t put the hammer down on these shenanigans, then from now on it will be more and more of the same, lies, vilification, insults, contempt, world without end!”

“We’re putting the hammer down, comrades,” said Morehouse. “We’ve taken a hundred years of this shit from these people. No more! It ends now!”

“Who gets to be the hammer?” asked Tommy Coyle eagerly.

"Sorry, Tom,” said Morehouse, genuinely commiserating. “You and Harry are too badly needed up here with your brigades, and that goes for you battalion commanders as well. I’m afraid the reason you are here is because we’re going to need your help and your concurrence to cherry-pick your units. The actual hammering will be planned and organized by the Third Section, but the nails will be from Portland and the North Shore.”

“Who ya gonna call? Jew-Busters!” laughed Charlie Washburn.

“But we don’t want to just arbitrarily start snatching bodies right, left, and center for Task Force Director’s Cut,” Wayne Hill assured them. “We have a list of names and we want to go over every one of them with you beforehand.”

"Who and what, exactly, will you need for this special team?” asked Hannon. “What kind of skill sets are you looking for?”

“For that I’ll hand over the floor to a colleague of mine. I’m sure you’ve noticed that we have a comrade here tonight who hasn’t said much so far,” said Hill. “Gentleman, allow me to introduce Lieutenant Charlie Randall, one of our racial brothers from Down Under, who will serve as company commander for Task Force Director’s Cut.” Randall got up and stepped forward, and stood by the hearth, leaning on the mantelpiece.

“G’day, gents,” said the young Australian. “Threesec chose me to ramrod this little shindig because you can tell I’m not from around these parts the first time I open me mouth, and of course because of me rugged good looks as well, which will make it credible that I’m an aspiring actor and give me an excuse for hanging around movie people and places at all odd hours. Not to mention that me life’s vocation is manufacturing dead sheenies, a craft I’ve gotten bloody good at, if I do say so meself.”

“I will be the XO, the planning and intelligence officer,” Hill told them, “For the third member of the task force’s Trouble Trio, I would like to ask Zack here for the services of Lieutenant Christina Ekstrom as quartermaster. I heard she had to go under a while back.”

“Yeah, she’s been helping her dad out, and she’s as knowledgeable on guns as he is,” said Zack. “But before that she was our eyes and ears in local law enforcement for almost two years. I think she could do with a change of scene. The FBI have a real case of the ass for her because of the first tickle she helped us with, and they want her almost as bad as they want me. She’s a good choice.”

“We want to bring in at least six or eight other female comrades so we can make up boy-girl teams for the large amount of surveillance we’ll need to do,” said Hill. “Established couples would be best if you can spare them. I also want Lieutenant Vincent Pascarella and two Volunteers of Pascarella’s choosing from First Brigade EOD. I really want the Red Baron himself, but I was told flat out by the Army Council that he’s too badly needed here and the risk of losing him would be too great, so I can’t have him. We’re going to be making some noise down there, and we might even pop a chug-chug or two.”

Coyle nodded. “Okay, you got Pascarella and two EODs.”

“Then from Second Brigade, I’d like to take Johnny Featherstone along for torch work. I hear he’s good at it.”

“Yeah, he uses some goop one of our techie nerds made up that burns hot enough to melt steel, and he knows just where to place it and how much,” agreed Hannon. “When Johnny flicks his Bic, you can put what’s left of the joint in a teacup. Okay, you got him.”

“Now, dollars to donuts here’s where you comrades are going to go downright mulish on us,” said Randall, with a friendly grin. “We want at least four of your best snipers, including Cat-Eyes Lockhart himself.”

“I kind of saw that one coming,” admitted Coyle. “To be honest, I’ve been worried about Cat. Things are getting really hot for him in Portland again. His face is on TV every night and on every damned wall and telephone pole. They want him so bad they’re slavering, and his DT bounty is the only million-dollar reward in the NVA for a non-officer. He seems to have some kind of magical ability to move almost openly in the city without being spotted, but that kind of luck can’t hold forever. As much as I hate to lose Cat and his body count, I actually think it would be a good idea for him to go on the road again for a while outside Portland, until the heat here cools down a bit. You got him.”

“We need at least four good full auto men for watch-dogging and for spray jobs where necessary,” continued Randall. “Machine-gunners who can actually hit what they aim at and not just play John Wayne on the sands of Iwo Jima. Two from each brigade.”

“Jimmy Wingo,” said Coyle reluctantly. “Ace Biedermann to back him up.”

"Mike Gauss,” said Hannon. “And, uh, let’s see—Willis Nixon.”

“Machine Gun Mike? Good on him, mate,” said Randall happily. “As a sweetener, you can tell them they’ll be given two M-60s, a PKM, and an HK-11, with plenty of belts and ammo, and they can pick and train their own crews once we get down there.”

“You plan on playin’ Rambo down there, Lieutenant?” asked Conway, intrigued.

"We plan on rattling those Hebrews’ cages but good,” said Randall firmly. “Now, I mentioned we need at least six or eight gun bunnies, couples are fine, but bear in mind we’re dealing with Jews here, and so we’re going to need at least a few of those girls to serve as Loreleis and set honey traps. This will usually require the Sheilas to pose as aspiring actresses. As male chauvinist and crude as this may sound, they’re going to have to be built and look good enough to be Loreleis and starlets in Hollywood, where there’s a ten on every corner. Our girls have to stand out enough to attract some randy kike across a crowded cocktail party, you know wot I mean. You need to square that with them before they sign on. Let me know who’s willing.”

“Mmmm, we got that really sweet looking preppy girl in A Company, Becky, but her father’s a major knob and she’s too well known in society circles under her real name,” said Bud Lawlor. “She might run into someone who knows her at the wrong moment. Kicky McGee would fill the bill, if you can target a kike who likes ‘em blue-collar and tattooed. She’s uh, experienced. No disrespect to the comrade, she’s a cool hand and she’s gutsy. She’s carried some packages, she’s driven for Cat Lockhart, and we all saw her in action on Flanders Street.”

“Any of her tattoos racial?” asked Randall. “Any Confederate flags or Swastikas, or anything that might give the game away?”

“No, not racist, just Celtic biker kind of stuff, some flowers and barbed wire and witchy motifs. She’s got a couple of leather and denim outfits she looks hot as a two dollar pistol in.”

“She hooked up?” asked Randall.

“She and Jimmy Wingo have a thing going,” Lawlor told them. “That’s another reason I thought of her.”

“She’s in, then,” decided Randall. “Maybe she can lead Sammy Steinberg into a close encounter with Jimmy’s M-60.”

"What will be your plan of attack, Lieutenant Randall?” asked Hatfield.

“The main strategic objective here is to neutralize the Hollywood movie and television apparatus as an effective weapon of enemy propaganda,” said Randall. “It is now such a weapon because of the Jewish control of these industries. We have to get the Jews’ hands off the levers of power and creative control down there as much as possible, not only by terminating individual hebes, but by establishing a credible deterrent sufficient to prevent those reptiles from producing dingo doo like those things there.” Randall pointed to the scripts on the coffee table. “They have to know that even to contemplate producing an anti-NVA movie or television episode means bloody near certain death. We won’t be so much going after movie stars or actors themselves as we will be taking down the Jews who actually decide what movies and shows are made, and what their contents will be—studio heads, producers, directors, and screenwriters, and the money men. We have several objectives. First, to physically prevent these Jews from doing the dirty. A dead Jew can’t make an anti-white movie. Secondly, to create a psychological disincentive to make propaganda movies and telly for the Americans, since live Jews and liberals don’t wish to become dead ones. Finally, and this is a long-term goal, we want to demonstrate to the extensive Gentile community in the movie and television world down there that Jewish control of their industry, their money, their speech, and their creative talents is not some kind of perpetual, God-ordained inevitability. We want to show them and the whole world that Jewish power can be broken, right in the heart of their own oldest and most cherished empire in this country.”

“Gentile Hollywood people have been conditioned all their lives to a second-class status in their own world, in their work, and in their thoughts and their public utterances,” said Red Morehouse. “To them the Jewish control of their existence seems to be a law of nature, an immutable fact of life. Anyone who dares to stand up against it, or who makes a drunken slip like even the biggest stars like Max Garrett sometimes do, is crushed. But no one who has to live under Jewish rule likes it, and no one who is confronted on a daily basis with Jews in the flesh likes them as individuals. In a way, we’re trying to show the stars and the genuine film artists down there the same thing we’re trying to show our own people here in the Homeland—that it is possible to resist, and that the enemy is not invincible.”

“Which brings us to our own debut,” said Randall with an evil chuckle. “Gents, I am sure you’ve all seen the great blood and gore flicks of the past. Halloween. Friday the Thirteenth. Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Prom Night. Black Christmas. Well, the Northwest Volunteer Army is going to add another memorable date to the calendar of Hollywood horror. The one that will beat all those other nights of horror all to hell and gone, the goriest splatterfest of them all.” He leered and leaned forward as he hoarsely stage-whispered:

“Oscar Night!”

More Wisdom of the Ancients

Rev. Martin Luther, sermon at Eisleben, a few days before his death,February, 1546:

"Besides, you also have many Jews living in the country, who do much harm... You should know the Jews blaspheme and violate the name of our Savior day for day... for that reason you, milords and men of authority, should not tolerate but expel them. They are our public enemies and incessantly blaspheme our Lord Jesus Christ, they call our Blessed Virgin Mary a harlot and her Holy Son a bastard and to us they give the epithet of changelings and abortions.Therefore deal with them harshly as they do nothing but excruciatingly blaspheme our Lord Jesus Christ, trying to rob us of our lives, our health, our honor and belongings."

Sunday, February 24, 2008

What Did You Do In The Race War, Daddy?

[This turned up in my e-mail. No idea who this guy is.]

I write this because I wish to see positive, political change towards a pro-White solution to the current anti-White and generally anti-Gentile or anti-non Jew, global warfare, which I believe, is far advanced towards the certain destruction and elimination of the white race in particular, and has the strong likelihood of destroying all races and most, if not all sentient life on this planet within the next 200 years,

Now, you, dear reader, are aware of the problems besetting your country. You have identified your nation's problems as being to a large extent, caused by a group of people who run your country.

You are perturbed by the problems you see, and you know for certain, as you hear the daily news, that things always get worse.

Because you love and care for the welfare of your family, your race, your world and your future, you wish to see things made better. You may or may not be aware that similar or identical groups are causing similar problems in other countries than your own, right now, wherein other White people, just like you, but speaking another language, are saying: "This is madness. Things don't have to be this way, but what can anyone do about it?"

What follows is a primer to introduce to you, the first steps you must take to help make your world right. We shall start at the basement level with some assumptions, which may also help clear out the deadwood--the sorts of people we do not need and only serve to get in the way of we, the positive and reasoning thinkers.

Therefore, let it be stated that I guarantee and know, that you fall into a specific one of the following categories, and thereby are precisely the one and only type of person who can and will change the world for the better- the others cannot possibly affect change for the better- only you can. So prove me right and check out which (below) describes you.

1. There is no conspiracy. All is coincidence, especially where Jews are concerned.

2. There is/may be a conspiracy, but it's nothing to do with Jews.

3. There is/ is not/maybe--er whatever you say, but God will make it all right. as the Bible says "Put not your trust in the word of man, but in the living God."

4. Like, I mean, y'know, it's all the work of like Nazis and Neo Nazis an' like anti-Semites, and racists and like nationalists, man.

5. There is a gigantic Jewish conspiracy which will certainly destroy us all, but it is too big, our people are too cowardly and stupid, and the Jews are too clever for us to ever defeat their schemes, so why bother?

6. There is a gigantic Jewish conspiracy which will certainly destroy us all, but it is too big, we are too stupid and weak, and the Jews are too clever for us to ever defeat them, so let's recall the glories of the Third Reich on this new DVD I got and crack open a six pack.

7. There is a gigantic Jewish conspiracy which will certainly destroy us all, but we can yet defeat it if we cleverly hide our knowledge, get "on side" with the Jews, condemn their current enemy--call them 'Islamic terrorists' or 'Neo Nazis' and join their stacked poker game called Lib Lab Con/Rep Dem party politics.

8. There is a gigantic Jewish conspiracy which will certainly destroy us all, but a couple of buddies and me have got a heap of fancy guns and an' RPG and tins of corned beef. We're planning a revolution. Or to hold out against the Jew's Fed agents when they come for us.

9. There is a gigantic Jewish conspiracy which will certainly destroy us all, but it is too big to defeat, so let's go with it. Agree to everything the Jews demand--serve them by shitting on our fellow Whites as a politician, police officer, teacher, broadcaster and get a good life for ourselves, and to hell with the future.

10. There is a gigantic Jewish conspiracy which will certainly destroy us all, but this is just God's way of showing how much He loves us. It's our duty to help make things worse and a little more hellish each day, so that God can come down and save us.

Well, which are you?

How about No 3?

Surely no one can doubt--even an unbeliever--especially an unbeliever, that this command is a good and wise one?

In my opinion, as a total Bible disbeliever, it is the only valid command in the whole of the Holy Book.

Indeed: "Put not your faith in the word of man but in the risen god" means just what it says- that is why I do not trust the words some man has written as the Holy Bible. However, were such a thing as "the risen God" to appear to me and tell me what is what, I should possibly believe him/ her/ it/ they etc.

So, all this aside, did you decide which of the above is you?


You answer, none of these describes me.

I know that, because it was a trick question, None of the above are you.

None of these (above) types have a hope in hell of changing anything for the better, but here's the good news: all the above are in the minority. The vast majority of White people are not like these. They are mostly like you and I. They are capable of infinite inventiveness, amazing courage and fortitude, and the world and nature is on their, your, and our side.

Pity is they don't know all this yet, because no one has bothered to tell them until now.

Neither do they know what the problem is, nor how to start and solve it.

This is where you and I, and the millions like us, come in. It is our job to inform them, to plan, and to motivate the good guys--our people, our white brothers and sisters, world-wide. It is a big undertaking, but no worse, no more difficult or hazardous than all the many vicissitudes that our brilliant and beautiful race has faced and overcome before to make of us what we are, and what we have the potential to be in the future, when our descendents stride the galaxies.

My next message (part 2 of 6) deals with the nature of the twofold problem- them and us- ourselves, then later we shall look into the solutions and what we must do to win.

-Mr. Smith

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Matt Takes A Pass On The Brave New World

[The following is an excerpt from H. A. Covington's novel Slow Coming Dark, published in 2000.]

Matt parked his Taurus on the New Bern Avenue extension and walked towards the SBI offices. The day had grown cloudy and perceptibly cooler; in just a few hours the odd time of August known in Carolina as False Fall had descended upon the state, the air warm yet not hot, still yet tense.

To his disquiet, Andrea Weinmann intercepted him at the door. She was wearing a light cotton summer dress and high-heeled sandals, cut close enough to accentuate a lithe yet voluptuous figure. A broad milk-white expanse of back and front was showing, with the slightest shadow of cleavage and one bra strap visible. Still professional, but just barely, and Matt would have been less than a man had he not wondered what it would be like to slide that strap off her soft shoulder and see the brassiere drop. She carried a large purse with a shoulder strap; Matt knew her gun and badge were in it and wondered if there was any bugging equipment as well. He wondered if she was alone or if they were being surveilled by her colleagues.

“Hi,” she said, nodding across the street at the old state capitol surrounded by leafy green oaks and statues of the long dead white males who had created and served North Carolina and America. “I wouldn’t sitting on mind one of those benches while we talk, instead of some stuffy cubbyhole in there.”

“The pigeons may do a number on your dress, not to mention your hair,” said Matt with a chuckle. “Besides, on one side you’ll have Andy Jackson staring down on you and on the other side our Confederate war memorial. Not a very PC atmosphere.”

“Well, you’re not a very PC kind of guy, are you?” laughed Andrea.

“No,” he agreed, escorting her across the street. They seated themselves on a bench. Andrea drew the wrapped remnants of a submarine sandwich from her purse and began tearing off small chunks of bread, tossing them to the squadrons of pigeons who immediately descended to the ground to grab the food.

“Pigeons on the grass, alas!” she said. “Gertrude Stein.”

“Pigeons in the air, despair!” returned Matt. “Father Gassalasca Jape. How can I help you, Agent Weinmann?”

“Call me Andrea, and you know perfectly well how you can help me, Matt. I have budgeted the first ten minutes of this discussion for fencing while you deny that you have Alice Silverman, and I try to make you admit that you do. Are we going to need the ten minutes?”

“No,” said Matt with a smile. “You can get right to the threats if you like. Tell me all about how you’ll charge me with obstructing justice and all that crap. Which you won’t, because the last thing on earth Janet Reno and the Man From Hope want is for any of this to be on paper and in a public courtroom. Except for the FISA court, we haven’t quite reached the point of secret tribunals in America yet, although I suspect it’s coming.”

“I believe that Senator Schumer is presently working on a draft bill for use in national security and domestic terrorism cases, yes,” said Andrea. She looked off in the distance. “It doesn’t have to be this way, Matt.”

“I’m afraid it does, ma’am,” he replied gently. “I still don’t know what kind of a person you are, Andrea. A good person and a good cop, I hope. But the fact is that you and I serve different ideals, different gods if you will. How much do you know about exactly why that unspeakable slaughter on the Jolie Madame happened?”

“I know Alice Silverman was involved and may still be involved in a scheme to blackmail the President of the United States,” said Andrea. “I have just been informed from Washington that Senator Jesse Helms is also involved, which makes it even more disgraceful.”

“Do you really believe that’s the way it is, Andrea?” asked Matt, his voice still gentle. “I won’t try to argue with you if you do, but I’m curious to know if you really do believe it. If you have made yourself believe it.”

“I don’t think about it in those terms, Matt. I’m not a Marxist, but the Marxists have a few good concepts, and one of them is that there is such a thing as objective truth, a political and social truth which can be greater and more morally imperative than any mere state of factuality.”

“Yes, back during the Monicazeit I recall our Fearless Leader’s dialectic contortions over what is ‘is’?” said Matt in a dry voice.

“Sometimes is isn’t, Matt. I understand how cynical and depraved that sounds, but it’s an accurate assessment. The objective truth here is that Bill and Hillary Clinton have been the best presidents in this century. They have presided over a period of prosperity and progress without parallel at any previous time in this country’s history. The Clintons have defeated inflation and Serbian fascism, and we have come as close to defeating poverty as it may be possible to come. We have also come as close to genuine social and racial equality, true diversity, and an inclusive society as anyone on earth has ever come. It’s possible we may be able to achieve an inclusive and diverse, multi-cultural world of prosperity and equality for all time, if the Clintons are allowed to continue in office, or rather if Hillary Clinton can become President in 2004. But she has to win that Senate seat in New York and build her political base and show the people her vision for America, while Al Gore keeps the chair in the Oval Office warm for her for this next four years. I know you don’t share these values, Matt, and I am sorry for you in a way, but in a way not. You are among the last of your kind, and I have to admit, I find your courage and your own obvious commitment to your ancient way of life to be noble and incredibly attractive. But Matt, your world and Jesse Helms’ world is dying, hell, it’s dead already. There can never be any going back, only forward. Matt, you’re young enough to change. You’re young enough to have some part in this brave new world to come, and it really will be a brave new world.”

“And the price of my entrée into this brave new world is to hand over a young woman and a baby to be murdered?” asked Matt sadly. “You don’t know me very well, do you?”

“Oh, Matt, we’re not going to kill Alice and her baby!” snapped Andrea. “We want to question her about those murders on the boat! You know, the crime the FBI is investigating? Yes, it’s also true that during the process of investigation I hope we will be able to persuade Ms. Silverman to abandon any idea she may have of embarrassing the president or Mrs. Clinton, but we’re not executioners or thugs. I told you, I’m not like Chuck Bennett.”

“Not like your former lover, Chuck Bennett,” corrected Matt.

“I see you still have your ear to the ground in the Bureau,” she said with a rueful smile. “Matt, I last slept with Chuck Bennett four years ago. I gave him a hell of a farewell orgy if I do say so myself. But when I walked out of his apartment next morning it was all business between us from then on, and he knew that and accepted it. I never carried a torch for him, I always knew he was corrupt and dangerous, and as far as I am concerned you did what you had to do. That’s the truth, I swear it. I repeat, I am not an executioner or an assassin.”

“But the Three Musketeers are,” pointed out Matt.

“I am not in any way involved with that crew, Matt, and dammit, I really do mean that!” she insisted. “Rather the reverse. I have strong reason to believe that Mr. Blanchette and Ms. Martin and Mr. Lambert are involved in these multiple homicides. They will be apprehended and if they resist they will be dealt with.”

“Ahhh...comes the dawn! So that’s it!” asked Matt, suddenly comprehending. “That’s what you’re doing, eh? Tying up a very ugly loose end for Bill and Hillary before he leaves office? A little termination with extreme prejudice? Or is that truth too objective for you?”

“It’s right on the money,” replied Andrea grimly. “I should think as a law enforcement officer you would be glad to see the end of those three and you wouldn’t be too squeamish about the politically hygenic aspect.”

“Hey, Andrea, no kidding, you catch those three anywhere in North Carolina where I’ve got jurisdiction, let me know and I’ll be there with bells on, two guns at the ready. Bob Blanchette is a notch I definitely want to put on this Python of mine.”

"I’ll do that. From what I’ve heard of Blanchette and Lambert, we will need all the help we can get. Now, do we get Alice Silverman?”

“No,” said Matt. “But you’ve been frank with me, so I’ll tell you this much. Alice Silverman is not involved in any plot to embarrass or blackmail Bill or Hillary Clinton. Quite the opposite. She wants one thing and one thing only, and that is to be left the hell alone to raise her child and never again be reminded that Bill and Hillary Clinton exist, or as close to that state of affairs as possible. She is safe with us. Don’t worry about her. You don’t need her testimony for what you’re going to do, since this is never going into a courtroom and we both know it. Let us handle the Silverman end of things for you while you hunt down the Three Musketeers. If you’re as sharp as I give you credit for being, you can get to them before John Visconti does. You can even make things cleaner still by blaming the dead Musketeers on Visconti and then wasting him in turn, if you can catch him. There is an old saying that the law is supposed to be a shield and not a sword, but that’s horse shit and we both know it. I am not naive or idealistic, Andrea; I lost any illusions I had about the law long ago. As far as I am concerned you can stack Blanchette and Visconti and a hundred dead hoods up like cordwood. I’ll give you my applause, and like I just said, I’ll even give you a hand if it comes down here in the Old North State. But Alice Silverman is not a hood. She is a scared young woman with a baby who has the right to live her life without the constant shadow of Luther Lambert’s axe or your kind of persuasion. Your leader has given you a mission, Andrea. Do it and go back to Washington.”

“I can’t do it like that, Matt. I think you know that.”

“Then we’ll just have to see how it plays out,” said Matt, rising from the bench.

“If we come for her, are you going to shoot?” asked Andrea directly.

"I don’t know. For God’s sake, Andrea, don’t bring it to that! Aside from anything else, it would be almost impossible to keep it quiet. We have one thing in common, all of us, you and me and Alice and your superiors in Washington, we all want this settled without any sound and fury. Let’s start from that common ground and see where it goes. Now, have your people had enough time to find my car and plant the homing device yet?”

Andrea laughed. “I’m here alone, Matt, but by all means, get yourself dirty crawling under your car looking for a tracker if you want. By the by, there’s something else. I realize this isn’t the most auspicious time to bring up the subject, but once this messy case is over, if we’re still on speaking terms at all, any chance of you and me getting together for a long weekend in a nice, dark hotel room? I imagine your contact at the Bureau has already told you, for the chosen few I’m a garden of delights.”

“I don’t doubt it a bit, ma’am,” said Matt. “And no jive, I’m honored you would offer me a stroll through the garden.” He held up his left hand. “Do you know what the ancient custom of the wedding ring symbolizes, Andrea? It symbolizes a chain, a binding together of a man and a woman. The other day you met the woman who wears the other half of that chain. She and I are bound together in spirit, so that even when she is not present in body, she is always there in my heart and in my thoughts. A while back, in the wedding chapel down in Dillon, South Carolina, I made to Heather the most sacred promise that any man can make. My name isn’t Bill Clinton, and I am not part of your brave new world, ma’am. That promise I meant, and that promise I will keep. Always. Until death do us part, and in Heather’s case, I think if ever I lost her I would keep that promise until death reunited us again. One day, if you are fortunate, some man will wear the other half of your ring and will feel the same way about you. I wish that good fortune upon you with all my heart, Andrea, and that’s the truth.”

“That’s the best thing any man has ever said to me, Matt,” she replied quietly. “Thank you.” She watched him walk away through the trees and the still, gray air. It will be you, she thought. It will be my ring on that finger of yours one day. I don’t know how, but I will make you love me as you love her. I know now that it has to be. It’s you, Matt, only you.

Matt Redmond paused briefly on his way back to his car. He looked up at the large statue of the three U. S. presidents born in North Carolina, Polk and Andrew Johnson and above them all on his horse, the chiseled Ulster granite face of Old Hickory himself, the soldier and statesman Andrew Jackson. The house you once honored with your wisdom and your strength is defiled, he thought. There is a darkness descending on the land, a slow coming dark. A toad is sitting in your chair, and he is sending villains and bitches to murder women and children. But you have sons who have not forgotten, Mr. President. We will fight on.

[Slow Coming Dark is available from and Barnes and Noble.]

Friday, February 22, 2008

Aryan Ancestors on the Silk Road

Political correctness has gotten a slap in the face recently from a number of archaeological discoveries in the Orient which indicate that the founders of many Eastern civilizations, which are so revered by trendy New Age types who despise anything White and European, were in fact racial Aryans. One famous example is the country of Iran, which takes its name from its original conquerors; until 1978 one of the many formal titles of the Shah was "Lord of the Aryans."

It has long been known that around the first century A.D. the northwestern part of China was inhabited by a Caucasian people who spoke a language called by scholars Tocharian. In the early part of this century, French and German archaeologists excavating in the northwest provinces discovered extensive written manuscripts in this language, and when they cracked the code, so to speak, they were astonished at the similarities between this supposedly isolated Oriental tongue and ancient Germanic and Celtic languages.

Now the PC academic and scientific establishment who want to rewrite history to make it "Afrocentric" and get rid of "dead White European males" have gotten another kick in the pants from the truth. Recent excavations in the Tarim Basin in Xinjiang province have uncovered more than 100 naturally mummified corpses of people who lived there between 4,000 and 2,400 years ago, indicating that the Aryan incursion into Asia was in fact far earlier and far more extensive than anyone previously believed. The bodies were amazingly well preserved by the arid climate, and according to the New York Times "...archaeologists could hardly believe what they saw."

The mummies had long noses and skulls, blond or red hair, thin lips, deepset eyes, and other unmistakably Aryan features. Dr. Victor H. Mair of the University of Pennsylvania said, "Because the Tarim Basin Caucasoid corpses are almost certainly representatives of the Indo-European family, and because they date from a time period early enough to have a bearing on the expansion of the Indo-European people from their homeland, it is thought that they will play a crucial role in determining just where that might have been."

[NB.- My own understanding is that the ancient homeland of our people was by the shores of Lake Baikal in what is now Russia, from whence we began our migrations untold millennia ago when we were all one nation known as the Children of the Sun. As to where we came from before we were hanging around the lake---I have my own theory, but that's another story, which I won't get into now for a variety of reasons.]

One such mummy of a teenaged girl with blond hair and blue eyes, found in a cave, has become quite a tourist attraction in Beijing. She has been nicknamed "The Lady of Tarim" and she is on display to throngs of museum visitors in the Chinese capital. Apparently she was a princess or a priestess of some kind over 3,000 years ago, for she was buried in fine embroidered garments of wool and leather, along with beautiful jewelry, jars and ornaments of gold, silver, jade and onyx. Her remains are in such a remarkable state of preservation that the dead girl looks as if she were just sleeping.

"Diffusionism can now be taken seriously again," chortled onehistorian, Michael Puett of Harvard. Diffusionism is the theory that the ostensibly advanced Middle Eastern and Oriental civilizations of the ancient world all benefited from contact with Aryan migrants, merchants, wandering tribes, etc. and acquired much of their knowledge and attributes from these contacts; this theory can actually explain quite a lot about history, from the Indo-European roots of the Hindustani language to the Quetzalcoatl legend of the Aztecs to the mysterious ruins of Zimbabwe which were so clearly never built by blacks.

Diffusionism has been replaced over the past twenty years by the new, Politically Correct dogma of "independent invention," which holds that there was no contact at all between White people and any Asian or pre-Columbian civilization, or if there was it was bad because all White males are "imperialist exploiters." The PC theory teaches that everything in ancient non-White societies was invented bythe indigenes, everything withut exception, no ideas or influence from European contact, nothing good or beneficial at all even if there was any White contact, which there wasn't because White males are not the world-exploring hotshots they are supposed to be, so there! I guess we made up Leif Ericson and Columbus was really a monkoid. Don't laugh---I have heard both of those idiocies advanced seriously by "Afrocentric historians".

(The PC eggheads also claim that Columbus was a Jew. Yeah. Right. Ferdinand and Isabella, who had just finished expelling the Jews from Spain in 1492, then proceeded to hock the queen's jewels to finance a major nautical expedition by a Jew. What's wrong with this picture?)

According to the independent invention theory, the list of things non-Whites have independently invented includes the dozens of Asiatic dialects from Hindu to Punjabi to Uighur, all clearly based on a common Aryan root language---pure coincidence, say the PC profs! The agricultural techniques of the Aztecs and Incas such as crop rotation and terrace farming, so similar to ancient Roman and medieval European practices---bah, say the intellectual gangsters of liberalism, the Indians made it up themselves! The Mayan pyramids and calendar and astronomy, almost duplicates of Greek and Egyptian knowledge(Egyptians who were not in any way, shape or form negroes!)---those are all products of the brilliant Maya civilization alone, according to the official line. The same Mayas' predelictions for cannibalism and sacrificing young children by drowning them in sacred wells is ignored.

The blue eyes and broken Welsh language of Missouri's Mandan Indians; the Celtic-style megaliths and stone round towers of New England; the Viking ruins of L'Anse Aux Meadow in Newfoundland; the runic inscriptions on Connecticut's Dighton Rock and the Minnesota Kensington stone; Shaka the Zulu's organization of his impis based on Napoleon's system which he got from a French hunter and trader who was a Napoleonic veteran; the stone ruins of Zimbabwe so utterly unlike anything ever found anywhere else in black Africa and resembling nothing so much as a Bronze Age Celtic fort; the long Aryan features of the Easter Island statues---nyet, no, nada, nein, no way! Accordingto the left-wing academic establishment, nothing was ever learned by non-Whites from contact between Third World cultures and Aryan man.

How PC academia will explain away those hundred blond-haired, blue-eyed mummies from China I don't know, but I'm sure it will be good. Looks like us Children of the Sun got around in the old days!

"To stop the United States from turning into Brazil, we must turn it into Yugoslavia first."

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Serbs Burn U.S. Embassy

The Serbs seem to be pissed off at the United States helping themselves to one of their provinces and turning it into an American/UN colony run by Albanian organized crime. A mob estimated at 200,000 people burned the U.S. Embassy in Belgrade today.

Interesting to note that some White people are still capable of acting against American thieves and murderers and sky-bombers who steal their land and their freedom. Maybe next time the American ambassador and his little Jewish friends will be inside the embassy.

"To stop the United States from turning into Brazil, we must turn it into Yugoslavia first."

Great New Tag Line

Great new tag line or slogan for us:

"To stop the United States from turning into Brazil, we must turn it into Yugoslavia first."

Thanks and a tip of the Northwest fedora to Comrade Terry Butler.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

There Is A Solution To All This, You Know

War is when the government tells you who the bad guy is. Revolution is when you decide that for yourself.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Who Will Hussein Be Bringing With Him?

Quick question for the Obamanation Cult: suppose your main monkoid does get elected in November? Who will be coming with him to Washington?

Al Sharpton? Jesse Jackson? Louis Farrakhan? Michael Jackson? Oprah? Snoop Dogg? Just who be in de O-man's posse, dawg?

Monday, February 18, 2008

Death To The Chimp-Huggers!

Sometimes the last thing we want to do is face reality. That's because as a rule, reality really sucks. It's a rare thing when it shows us something uplifting or hopeful anymore. So we don't look, or we pretend things aren't as bad as they are. It's our defense mechanism that keeps us from wigging out. That's because most of the people smart enough to see the truth aren't strong enough emotionally or mentally to handle it.

So we lie to ourselves and others. We go around with blinders on. We actually get in red-faced arguments with people that try to make us face the facts, calling them everything from fanatics to racists to nuts. Liberals are the worst of these. I'm seen them literally foaming at the mouth on some crossfire show on cable on several occasions, flinging white foam as they ranted at some conservative or white separatist that was telling the hard truth about the racial and cultural assault whites face on this planet.

But they're not alone. We have a new breed of corrupt, blinder-wearing morons amongst us now. They are the end result of generations of deliberate and careful propaganda and mental conditioning by the NWO elite. They exist by the multi-millions and now make up the vast majority of American whites in this country. I call them "Chimp Huggers." The picture above pretty well tells it all.

Oh, the guys will tell nigger jokes when they're alone (after they've looked around carefully to see that no one is listening) but they have nigger basketball, baseball and football heroes. The wives complain about nigger crime and the mean-assed hos that push in front of them at the supermarket, but they absolutely worship that racist bitch nigger Oprah. They hate the fact that their daughter is dating a nigger with lips bigger than the Ball Park franks Mom cooked for lunch, but when she has a little mulatto niglet, they accept it and let the father come and visit his kid (which he couldn't care less about, but uses it as an excuse to get some more white poontang).

They ignore the screaming statistics saying that niggers and wetbacks are murdering us en masse, and have CDs of Blade, Spawn, Shaft, and a dozen other Super Nigger movies in their CD collection. They worship God and say they follow the Ten Commandments, but have all clammed up about faggots, even when their own faith tells them never to tolerate them because they're an abomination.

They know what immigrants are doing to their country, but they don't like Mormons, so regardless of the fact that Romney was the only remaining candidate for President that would have deported all the invading taco chompers, they voted for either McCain, a known liberal in sheep's clothing and the co-author of last years' Amnesty Bill which Americans just barely defeated, or Huckabee, a member of the FBI's Ten Most Corrupt Politicians' list. And because of this stupidity and stubbornness, McCain, one of the most evil and power-mad corporate yes-men ever to disgrace American politics, has a very, very good chance of being the next President. His victory will put the last nail in the coffin of the United States. Mark my words. He'll make the Bush years look like wine and roses.

But the Chimp Huggers aren't worried, not really, because God will save the day. I've actually read a piece lately where Christians were ranting that we shouldn't worry about pollution of global warming and just go for it with both barrels, because God is coming back soon anyway. They seem to have forgotten God's order to be "wise stewards" of the earth.


They say we should defend the Jews at all costs, but once again conveniently forget all about Christ's statement that the Jews "the natural branch," were cut off and cast aside, and the "wild branch," the Gentiles, were "grafted in its place" by God, making the Gentiles, namely the Aryans, the new Jew! And as Christ told the Pharisees, "You are of your father the Devil. For if you were of God, you would know me." (paraphrasing). And as we all know, the Jews do not recognize Christ and never did. They have literally been disowned by God for their evil.

But our friend the Average American family just doesn't seem to do that much reading on their own, or questioning of anything. They do however, watch a load of TV and believe almost everything it tells them. And why not? They've been taught from birth to trust it.

Some of us are old enough to remember what it was like without a TV in the home. Life was drastically different. All kids knew how to do their heads, including long division. Nobody had, or needed calculators. When they first came out I thought they were a waste of plastic.

I still do. People got their new from newspapers and radio, and at that time both media were still honest and politically neutral. It was considered Communist and un-American to allow political parties to influence the news. It was unthinkable. Now we pick our news channel according to our political leanings, depending on who's lies we prefer.

And to punctuate the depths this country has sank to, the liberal half has put up a Moslem buck nigger and a bisexual\feminist\bitch\murderess as Presidential hopefuls. Either way we lose. America loses. You lose.

Now let's talk about percentages..

I still hear talk in some circles of turning things around, of starting a national revolt (I'm guilty of that myself many times in the past) of taking back our country. A wonderful plan, a noble hope, a proper racial ideal. But unfortunately, a fantasy. That's because it's too late, and has been for some time now.

Percentage-wise, whites comprise only 7.6% of the entire Earth's population. That's all! The remaining 92.4% is mud-races.

Think of the boiling masses of East Indians in India. Breeding like roaches, starving, horrendously ignorant, violent, disease-ridden and primitive.

Then there's China and all the surrounding Mongoloid countries. Endless seas of little yellow people, once again mindlessly breeding into the multi-billions. Achingly ignorant, hungry and violent. The only way their nation stays intact is through a ruthless government that has no qualms about killing thousands of them in a stroke to keep things stable. It's the only way to control such a primitive and violent race.

Africa. From end to end, a land full of millions of diseased, ape-like, primitive, and highly dangerous genetic throwbacks that should have been irraddacated from the face of the earth millennia ago. Prolific breeders, they are also born killers with no natural remorse for any of their actions. And despite the ravages of the AIDS epidemic, their numbers are rapidly increasing because their breeding habits have outweighed the deaths caused by their sexual misconduct.

South America. Once inhabited by American Indian tribes, Spaniards killed off most of them by bringing syphilis, tuberculosis and the Mumps, to which they had no immunity. They bred with the survivors, creating the Mexicans we have today. And once the good old Catholic Church got hold of these primitives and commanded them to breed, breed they did...until the entire continent was covered with starving, ugly, semi-retarded and violent primitives. They're presently starving down there, but are far too stupid and hormone riddled to stop breeding. So now the overflow is spilling into our country by the multi-millions. And once they get here and discover to their utter joy that they can have whitey foot the bill for everything, they start breeding here crazy.

The Middle East. Country after backwards country full of dark, hook-nosed fanatics that worship Allah, an old pagan moon god. They are hormone riddled, violent, sex crazed and aggressive. They too, are painfully ignorant and also believe in breeding like rats.

North America. Few Americans realize that there are now more non-whites in America than whites. The immigrants silently but very quickly snaked their way into our country, set up shop and started up their female breeding factories. If all the legal and illegal immigrants that have entered this country in the past forty years were all deported, our population would be cut by over 53%!!! And you can rest assured that every last one of them is a liberal and a staunch supporter of the Democratic\atheist\pro-freebees\pro-immigrant\pro-diversity\anti-white Party.

So let's take a rough look at the percentages...

We make up 7.6% of the world's population, which comes out to just under 500 million people. Around 150 million are here in the U.S., or approximately 30% of the global white population. In other words, 2.5% of the Earth's population are White Americans.

But let me get this straight.. The darkies are the "minorities"???

And of that paltry 2.5%, half of them are Chimp Huggers and the other half are liberals. Racially and politically awake whites like us are such a small percentage that we wouldn't even merit an asterisk on the graph. We are a dying race, as David Lane so succinctly wrote once. That's because it takes far more intelligent and thinking people than the number we presently have to make a dent in the problem. Thirty years ago, maybe. Forty years ago, almost a certainty if the right moves had been made. Today, forget it. Our duped and brainwashed brethren have far too much invested to ever voluntarily let go of the lie they're living.

We have one hope: migrate.

We must gather together in an area of sanctuary where like minds can remain free and at ease. Where our morals, beliefs and standards can be preserved for a time when..or if our race is ready to learn them once again.

We must cast off our old cultural habits of going it alone. Whites picked up this bad cultural habit when the tv came into being. It was the perfect tool of the Jew. It quickly replaced nightly baseball games and card games with the neighbors on weekends. Bowling leagues became a thing of the past and many organizations faded into history.

Reading became almost extinct. Ask any young person his opinion of a classic and you'll get a blank stare. We all got to where we lived twenty years next to our neighbors and never even knew their names. This destroyed our cultural cohesiveness. This must stop, now and forever.

Even the cockroach Mexican has a superior culture than ours. They socialize. Family is everything. Friends, neighbors and even remote relatives are all well known. Picnics, BBQs and get-togethers are common. This has been their main weapon against us as they invade our land. We don't ever join forces and drive them out. Even cops are afraid to go into wetback or even black neighborhoods because they stick together as a unit. We don't, much to our shame.

And it's killing us. Cultural cohesion can prevent our women from falling prey to liberal propaganda or scheming niggers trying to knock them up.

We would have a support base that wouldn't allow it and would drive off the animals.

Men of good character would shame the weaker ones(or force them) to stick to their morals and standards. But all this happens only if we are as social as we once were. We have to go back to the old ways and do it quick. It's the only way we're going to save the seed corn for a new crop of decent Aryans in the future. It's the only way we can keep the spark..and our race alive and pure.

This is all we can hope for as a race today, and even this is going to turn out to be one difficult undertaking. The forces pulling against us from all sides are just too numerous to list. So like the walnut, we must develop a tough shell around us that can't be penetrated by lies, propaganda or government pressure, so to protect the seed within. Those few people and families must refuse to succumb to racial death.

We brought this fate upon ourselves centuries ago by refusing to listen to the wisest among us that told us to rid ourselves of the Jew and the nigger and all other mud races creeping up on our shores. But instead we heeded the pleas of the bleeding hearts among us, naive people that had no clue as to the true nature of these beasts, but would quote the Bible saying "blessed are the merciful", completely ignoring God's dire warning not to "cast your pearls to swine, lest they trample them under their feet, then turn and rend you.".

Peace is a wonderful thing. But as long as there are beasts prowling the land you do not lay down your sword. This is the mistake they made...

And the monsters, the enemies of the white race, were waiting eagerly in the shadows for our bleeding hearts to fall victim to their urges so they could leap out and take full advantage of our weakness. Monsters like Ted Kennedy, who in the Sixties created and pushed through the Open Immigration Bill which allowed for the first time, immigrants from countries other than Aryan based, Western countries to come into this country by the millions.

He is also the same beast that fought so hard to push the recently defeated amnesty bill through the Senate, and the one who pulled the teeth from the Border Fence Bill. He has worked closely with John McCain, a fellow beast, and one of the most evil and corrupt men in history.

We're finished as a nation. Thirty years ago if anyone were to tell me that I'd have called them a nut. But just thirty short years later our nation is slipping into the yawning chasm if destruction, just one more casualty of man's stupidity and corruption. If, by some miracle of Fate the Aryan race survives the coming global holocaust, I fervently hope that they go on an ethnic cleansing campaign and rid the planet of all it's sub-human parasites and trolls before ever attempting to rebuild civilization.

Because if they don't, it will all be built in vain, for the mud races will destroy it again, just as they have destroyed every great civilization in the past.

The cycle must be broken. We were lucky enough to survive the last two Great Destructions, just barely, and we might, just might survive this coming one. But the percentages are against us. We keep casting our pearls and we'll go the way of the dinosaur and the mammoth. Saving what's left of our race is a job for stony-faced, stern, and resolute men that refuse to kneel to any man or government, but can temper their anger with guile and keep their people alive and free for as long as it takes...

Determination and Weeding:

This is a time for sober thought, grim determination, long-range planning, intelligence, commitment and sacrifice. This is not a game. Anyone that thinks it is or that thinks destruction isn't hot on our heels has no business in any Aryan group.

This is no time for us to suffer fools any longer. Natural selection must have its way. The stupid won't survive. As it should be. And in the future democracy must be outlawed. Idiots must no longer be handed the reigns of power. Cousin Lee Bob, Aunt Jemima and the pole dancer with the IQ of a turnip must no longer be allowed to decide the fate of the country.

Any white man that isn't aware of the crisis his race is facing and is still failing to prepare, is a damned fool and deserves to be weeded out. His type is what's killing us now as it is.We sure don't need any more of them among us.

Stupidity is contagious. It loves company. Stupid people always seek out allies in a group and try to sway them to their way of thinking. And it works in many cases because stupid people can't see the truth. This attracts even smart people that don't want to see the truth. And when you mix stupid with smart-but-weak you have a recipe for disaster in any group.

They have to be weeded out ruthlessly, for they're even more dangerous than the dark races and Jews. That's because they're spreading their poison from the inside.

In my mind's eye, I see a vast, vast ocean of dark faces, all looking at me. As far as the eye can see. Dull eyed and gape-mouthed they come. There's greed and animal desire in their savage faces as they all reach out hungrily toward me and my people. An endless sea of bestiality. The reek of a trillion unwashed bodies fills the air and a thick black cloud of disease hangs over them to the horizon. I shoot one and he falls, but in his place ten more rise up, all grinning evilly and reaching toward me as they draw ever closer.

And as I turn to run, I hear the faint but distinct laugh...of the Jew...

I hope I've at least put our position into perspective for some of you. Percentage-wise we're a piss-ant fighting a Rhino. We must form a seed, a kernel of pure Aryan blood and principles that can ride out the coming storm, so it can one day take root and blossom again, in the hopes that next time we'll be wiser for the misery and prevent this horrible cycle from ever repeating itself again...