Helping Beth With Her Homework
[I recently received an e-mail from a girl in high school who is doing one of these silly "diversity" classes and got an assignment to "contact someone different from you, learn how they think and try to understand their point of view," that kind of PC crap. Ms. Smith somehow found my e-mail address and contacted me. (See below.) I assume she's White, since she can actually spell correctly. In response, I sent her the attached article, which some of you may not have read. - HAC]
From: Elizabeth Smith
Sent: Wednesday, March 18, 2009 6:05 PM
To: Northwest Net
Subject: Re: Still Doing Your Project?
I was just hoping to learn a little more about your stance on racial issues. How did you come to think like this? Do you consider yourself a racist? What are your views? Do you treat people differently? Just a little bit of insight on the way you think. Thank you for helping me!
[April 20, 1999]
Dreaming The Iron Dream
by H. A. Covington
Comrades and Brothers:
As the last summer of this most terrible of centuries begins, I find myself thinking of a day in early summer twenty-eight years ago.
On that day, having completed my last final exam and thus my last day at Chapel Hill High School, I walked up to my car in the parking lot on a hill beside the school. I stopped at the summit of that hill and turned, looking back at the buildings, remembering all that had occurred there over the past three years. In that moment I made a silent vow to myself that I would devote my life to ensuring that someday, no White boy or girl would ever again have to go through what I had to go through in that place.
To my frequent amazement, this vow of mine I have kept through almost three decades of chaos and madness. The century draws to a close and it is not inappropriate, I think, for us as a group to pause for the few remaining months of it and assess where we have all been and what we have done.
Many years ago an author named Norman Spinrad wrote a book called The Iron Dream. The book was not a very memorable one, a kind of literary joke, purporting to be what Adolf Hitler would have written had he emigrated to the United States after the Beer Hall Putsch and become a science fiction writer in New York.
Yet the phrase has stuck in my mind. I think it is a very good one, very descriptive of the kind of vision that National Socialism has for Aryan mankind. National Socialism itself might be said to be an Iron Dream, a vision of a world and a human identity that endures like the hard metal instead of decaying like mere flabby flesh, and where the soul of man is hard and strong instead of weak and vacillating.
The Iron Dream is the hidden, instinctive soul of our mighty race; it lurks beneath the surface of the mind and desire of every White man and woman ever born, for it is the gift of the God or gods who forged our people from the ice and snow and granite of the vast forested expanse of our ancient homeland.
All my life I have dreamed the Iron Dream. I do not know why; some are simply born out of step with their time, I suppose. Even as a child I understood that things around me weren't right somehow, that this was not the way life is supposed to be.
Always I have been haunted, obsessed by a vision of a world very different than the one which I grew up in, an all-White world with very different standards and priorities. A world of strength and valor and glory, full of all the qualities and virtues and experiences which have been so deliberately bred out of us by Judaic materialism. When I was young I had an idealized view of the past, (all White faces, of course) but I had no idea of what this brave new world should be like in the future, until I discovered and understood the true meaning of Adolf Hitler, the Third Reich and National Socialism.
I have served the Iron Dream since that time because for me there was no other conceivable path. Every opportunity which presented itself for me to conform (and there were many) I rejected out of hand. It would not have been so hard. Like the ancient Domitian, all the power structure asked was that occasionally, I burn a small pinch of incense on the altars of the false gods of Judaism and materialism. But never once in my life have I burned that small pinch of incense which would have been my ticket into the wonderful world of money and consumer goods---that symbolic gesture of submission which would have meant, among other things, that I would have a medical insurance policy when I reached age 45.
At age seventeen, I recognized a racial, moral imperative which demanded my full attention and dedication, and I have submitted to it without question ever since. Not the usual twentieth century life story, to be sure, or at least not very common since 1945. "Making my peace with the system", a phrase I have actually heard used in the past few years by some people who were once active in the resistance, is something which simply never occurred to me. I talk about Holy Aryan Poverty, and possibly some of you think I am making a virtue of necessity. I am not. If I had it all to do over again I'd change some things, sure, but I would take essentially the same path I have taken. I have never looked back.
Taking Up The Burden
I have spent a large portion of my life making demands on you people-collective, generic "you", those of us who are racially conscious and who know the truth. I am forever asking you to do things that you do not wish to do. In essence I have demanded, and continue to demand, that you come up to my standards.
I have done so not in my name, but in the name of the Fuhrer Adolf Hitler and in the name of generations of White children yet unborn, both of whom have the right to demand that sacrifice and that action from you. I have done and said things that have made you extremely uncomfortable. I have spoken aloud of things you feel are better left discreetly unspoken; I have pointed the finger and named names, saying "Thou art the man!" I will continue to do and say these things, because it is my duty to do so, because these things must be done and said and no one else will.
Fraud is the curse of our Movement, more than anything else the cause of fifty years of failure. Let me tell you how to spot a Movement fraud, in one easy lesson.
A Movement fraud demands only two things of you: your money and your applause. He never asks you to take any risk; indeed, he would prefer you did not, because if you lose your job you can't contribute money to him, can you? He never asks you to undertake any inconvenience. He never asks you to sacrifice or to endure persecution and pressure and loss and danger for the Aryan race; he convinces you that he will do all these things for you, that the Great Result can be achieved without you yourself assuming any part of the burden which history has placed on our generations of Aryan men and women. In this, the Movement snake oil salesman lies.
Nothing worth having is ever obtained without a struggle and without cost, and everything worth having is always the result of duty accepted and fulfilled. The Iron Dream can be made reality---indeed, time and again down through the centuries our people have made it a reality---but it requires blood and sweat and gold and tears, prison and death and long years of toil and grinding poverty. Anyone who does not tell you this is lying.
Above all things, National Socialism means duty. Duty to one's self, to be true to one's racial destiny. In this soft and supine era most White men run away from duty, will do anything to avoid it, for it is difficult and demanding and interferes with their television.
Yet throughout past ages, real men have always embraced duty, sought it out, made it the touchstone of their lives. Man without duty is a simply a pig wallowing in a trough, another form of animal life. Man without a higher duty to spiritual principle is a Jew.
To be a National Socialist---to dream the Iron Dream---is to become a servant of history, to take upon oneself the burden of deciding in what form human destiny will be shaped. To be a National Socialist means taking on not only responsibility but moral authority, the right to determine the fate of others, and that is a terrible duty to assume, one which frightens and horrifies most modern men. To be a National Socialist entails the courage to determine that this society is sick beyond saving, and that mercy itself requires its swift extinction.
To be a National Socialist requires cultivating the character, the intelligence and the moral strength to recognize the true issues at stake for our race and our civilization in the face of overwhelming public distortion and pressure to conform, and to accept the persecution and the hatred that comes with non-conformity.
National Socialism Vanquishes Fear
One of the first things that struck me at Chapel Hill High, when I began to observe racial reality at first hand, was how afraid the White students and teachers were of everything. They were afraid of the niggers physically, but more than that they were afraid of becoming involved, of making moral decisions based on what was right as opposed to what was expedient, afraid of taking a stand in the face of the liberal power structure against the blacks' violence and drugs and their destruction of the learning environment.
For the first time I ran into a phenomenon I was to encounter again and again in my adult life: everyone around me knew perfectly well that I was right about the blacks, but no one dared to stand at my side and battle with me against institutional wrongdoing.
White fear has always filled me with shame, for more than anything else, cowardice disgraces our heritage and degrades our Folk. I have striven to show other White people, by the example of my own life, that they can rise above it. I have often thought that one reason I have been unable to get any help is not because no one understands what is required, but because most people do in fact understand these things, and aside from all other considerations, they are terrified of the responsibility of taking upon themselves the burden of history.
The human reality is that most people simply do not have what it takes to be a revolutionary, and that is true in every era. But the fact that most people aren't up to the task doesn't mean that the task need not be done. Racial survival is something we cannot take a "pass" on. The racial extinction of the White man is not an option. Someone has to step forward, and I have always accepted the fact that, for whatever strange karmic reason, I have drawn the short straw in this life. Sometimes I have wished it wasn't so, but my duty station is assigned and I remain at my post.
The Western world has reached a turning point, by the steep stages of a crisis mounting for generations, a crisis brought on us through our own weakness and cowardice and sloth. Several times throughout this terrible century, in Rhodesia, in South Africa, in the American South, twice in Germany, Aryan man has attempted without success to resist the onslaught of the crawling chaos which is known under so many names---liberalism, socialism, diversity, Political Correctness, multi-culturalism, humanism, all the various nicknames under which Judaic Marxism and its twin brother Judaic capitalism disguise themselves. (Believe it, Marxism is still alive and well in the world today.)
We have resisted thus far without success, but that does not mean that we must cease to resist or that those of us who know the truth can ever resign from the struggle. I say to you again, the racial extinction of the White man is not an option, and anyone who accepts it as such to avoid the effort and danger of racial duty damns his immortal soul to hell.
The Honor of Racial Service
We as a people must acquire the will to survive the crisis of civilization, where that will is elsewhere divided, wavering, or absent. At issue is whether our sick and weakened society, which we call Western civilization and which is the sole product of the Aryan race, can in its extremity still call up men and women whose faith in it is so great that they will voluntarily abandon those things which men hold good, including life, to defend it.
To be a part of this process, to be a soldier in this world-shaking conflict, is not an onerous thing to be avoided, but an honor, the greatest privilege which can be granted any man or woman, and it is a destiny I would not have missed for the world. The pain that these past twenty-eight years have inflicted upon me is something I cannot even begin to describe to you, but I understood from the very beginning that such pain would be part of the price tag attached to doing my duty, and I accept it without cavil.
Some day you will accept it too, for despite my periodic dressings-down I know full well that you are not bad people, and that you perceive in your hearts that you, as well, have a share in this destiny.
However much they may deny it, there persists in every White man and woman a scrap of soul, some faint remnant of conscience. Few White men, no matter how sunk in the fleshpots of Jewish materialism, are so dull as not to understand in at least some part of their consciousness that the crisis exists. It is in fact a total crisis---political, moral, intellectual, religious, social and economic. Nothing more or less is at stake than the continued existence on this earth of people with White skins. You know this, and some day you will join me. This is inevitable, although I make no secret of my hope that it will be sooner rather than later.
Our Race Is Our Nation
National Socialists are bound together not only by a common devotion to our immortal Leader and his ideals, but by a bond of blood which reaches across the barrier of nations, differences of class and education, in defiance of every Jewish rule and tenet: OUR RACE IS OUR NATION.
This mighty faith in our own heritage and destiny will some day give us the power to move mountains, and the time will come when at long last we will move men as well. National Socialists are that fragment of Aryan mankind who have recovered our people's long-lost ability to hold convictions and to act upon them, to live, to die, and for our faith.
There is no greater human calling than to sacrifice one's life---either in death or in selfless lifelong devotion, poverty, and obloquy---to an ideal greater than the personal self. This is what National Socialism calls upon Aryan men and women to do. In these times of timidity, prosperity, and inertia this is not a popular message, but a few in every generation respond to it. For idealism is in our very genetic makeup, and however deeply we smother it in the material wealth and indifference of the Judaic world in which we rot, it will always shine through. The spark of the divine essence within our Aryan souls is still there. You feel it yourself, or you would not be reading these lines now.
I know full well that this summer, as occurred to me on that summer day twenty-eight years ago, all across this land there are a small number of young men and women who are looking back at the place where they have just spent some wretchedly miserable years, and they are dedicating their lives to a future where it won't happen again. I have already met some of this new generation and I hope to meet more of them some day, to give them the benefit of my experience and to let them know that they are heirs to the glorious l legacy of Hitler and Rockwell.
That legacy will come to fruition in the 21st century, and this will happen because a small band of us willingly gave up our places at the great consumer trough, our chances for what Politically Correct society calls "happiness", in order to answer the call of our racial duty. It is we who will vindicate our people before the bar of history, we small band of brothers and sisters who gave it all up to do what was right instead of what was convenient or what was socially acceptable. I would not resign my membership in this tiny elite for any price.
It's hell out here, people. It's dirty, it's shabby, it's dangerous, it's depressing, it's hard and brutal. And it is unspeakably glorious. Join me!
Join me! Let us dream the Iron Dream together, that someday the world may awake to that day of blood and fire and renewal which will usher in the greatest Imperium of mankind.
"This destiny does not tire, nor can it be broken, and its mantle of strength descends upon those in its service." - Francis Parker Yockey, IMPERIUM